


Daughter-in-Law Wanted

by Cumberiffic (2Angie2)



Category: Benedict Cumberbatch - Fandom, British Actor RPF, Real Person Fiction, Sherlock (TV) RPF, Sherlock BBC
Genre: British Actor RPF - Freeform, DaddyBatch, F/M, Humor, RPF, Romance, Sexual Content, Sherlock (TV) RPF - Freeform, Swearing, sherlock bbc - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-24
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2017-12-21 04:30:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 181
Words: 1,470,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/895834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2Angie2/pseuds/Cumberiffic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wanda Ventham decides to take matters into her own hands to ignite her son's love life.  </p><p> </p><p>DISCLAIMERS:  Note that this is an original work and the plot and all original characters are my sole property.</p><p>This work is completely fictional in every way, shape and form! Creative writing is my hobby.  I do not personally know any of the people written about in this story.  All personalities depicted are purely a figment of my imagination. The story itself is inspired by various interviews and written articles that Benedict has done over the years. I have taken liberties with altering timelines and some character relationships to fit the plot line</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The story starts off in between the pilot and first season of Sherlock in late winter 2009. Benedict has been single for approximately 2 years in this universe.

  
"I wonder if she's gone yet," sighed Wanda Ventham as she stretched and put down the book she was reading. She looked at her watch.  "It's getting rather late, and Benedict has to be on set early tomorrow."  
  
Wanda's husband of 33 years, Timothy Carlton, paused from arranging pink and white hyacinth blooms in a large crystal vase and fixed his wife with a look.  "I dare say I think you'll be the very first to know when the interview is over."  He chuckled and added, "I wouldn't be in such a hurry.  I suspect our son is less than pleased with your…performance."  
  
Wanda huffed as she took off her reading glasses.  "I only meant well, Tim.  I really don't think Ben will hold a grudge.  I was just..."  
  
"Doing what you thought would help him find a wife," finished Timothy.  
  
"She’s got to have connections in London.  Surely she knows of someone or someone who knows someone.”  Wanda frowned and bit her lower lip.  “All I want is for him to find a bird.  He doesn't have to marry her.  Just someone to make him happy and give us grandchildren!"  
  
"Marriage would be nice," commented Timothy.  He pursed his lips and studied his arrangement.  "I think some more greenery.  What do you think?"  
  
Wanda got off her lounge chair to inspect the arrangement.  She moved around a couple of the flowers and stood back to admire it.  "Perfect!  Your hyacinths are beautiful."  
  
"Like you," Timothy smiled and kissed her gently on top of her head.   
  
They both looked up as the back door to the house suddenly banged opened.  Their son, Benedict, strode outside onto the terrace with a scowl on his face.   
  
“Hmm…he looks miffed to me,” muttered Timothy under his breath. “He’s not going to let it go.”  
  
“Did the journalist leave, dear?,” asked Wanda pleasantly.  
  
“Yes, about ten minutes ago,” replied Benedict curtly as he crossed the brick terrace towards them. His light blue eyes looked darker and flashed with annoyance.  
  
“Nice woman.  Her choice of wine was splendid,” said Timothy.  “Did it go well then?”  
  
Wanda poked her husband to shut up.  “I’m going in to make us tea before you have to leave,” she said to Benedict.  “I have a special pudding. Banoffee pie. Your favorite,” she added.  With that Wanda picked up the vase and started towards the house, confident that she had escaped a confrontation with her son.  She was wrong.  
  
Benedict blocked her way.  “Mum, I'm leaving tomorrow. We need to talk about what happened upstairs…”  
  
Wanda looked up at him and smiled slightly.  “Oh, if you mean about my owl collection, I really…”  
  
“No!” Benedict cut her off angrily. “ Please don’t play coy. I’m talking about your storming into the room to practically plead with that poor woman to find me a..a…bird…as you call it.  I’m 32 years old, Mum - a grown man, for Christ’s sake!  Do you know how that sounded?  Like I can’t find a woman to date - like no one wants me.  It made me look pathetic!”  
  
“I don’t see what was wrong with that, Ben,” retorted Wanda.  “I only wanted to help you.  I figured a writer like her would have lots of connections.”  
  
Benedict ruffled his curly hair, which had been dyed chestnut brown for the Sherlock pilot.  He narrowed his eyes at her and raised his voice in exasperation, “You really don’t see what was wrong with that, do you?  Dad?”  He looked at Timothy for support.  
  
The sound of a ringing phone came from inside.  Benedict stepped aside, allowing Wanda to enter the house to answer it.  He spread his hands helplessly and looked at his father, who let out the breath he had been holding in relief.  
  
“Why? Why does she do this to me?  Can you tell me?  When I took her shopping last week she asked the butcher if he had a daughter, for fuck's sake!  I’m afraid to go anywhere with her.  I can’t even begin to imagine what she does when I’m not around…” Suddenly he broke out into a spot on imitation of Wanda:  “Oh, Mr. Jones, you see my son, Benedict, is 32 and doesn’t have a bird.  He has a few peculiar habits, but I’m sure he’d make your daughter very, very happy. Let me show you his picture.”  
  
Timothy laughed at Benedict’s imitation of his wife and patted him on the shoulder.  “First of all, she literally glows whenever she speaks of you.  It takes her a good while to list all your virtues. She can recite every play, radio show and telly program that you’ve done. Then she pulls out an eight by ten glossy of you dressed as Sherlock.”  
  
Benedict grimaced.  
  
“I assure you it’s done with only the best of intent. Your mother loves you very much, Ben.  She is aware that we are all getting older.  Emily and Jennifer are grown women now, so she’s looking for a new crop of grandbabies to spoil.”  
  
Benedict sighed, “I can’t just go out and get anyone pregnant, Dad.  It has to be the right woman.  I want someone to be my life partner, not just an incubator for grandchildren.”  
  
“Benedict!” called Wanda.  “Your driver's on the phone.”  
  
“I’m going to clean up.  I’ll be in soon.  Try not to argue with your mother,” said Timothy as he picked up the garden tools.  
  
Benedict shook his head and headed back to the house.   
  
“She’s probably asking my driver if he has a daughter,” he said to himself.


	2. Chapter 2

After washing up in the potting shed, Timothy Carlton entered the house and paused to listen.  Silence.  He smiled to himself and went into the kitchen to find Wanda stirring a thick, white sauce in a copper pot on the stove.  There was a bowl of shredded cheddar cheese on the counter next to her.  
   
“Welsh rarebit, yes?” he asked, peeking into the pot.  
   
Wanda added a generous handful of the cheese and kept stirring.  “Uh-huh,” she nodded.  “Sunday nights call for something comforting.”  
   
“All’s quiet then?” Timothy ventured as he helped himself to some of the cheese.  
   
“So far.  He’s still on the phone so I’m hoping he’ll forget about it.”  
   
Timothy munched on some more cheese.  “Mmmmm.  I like this one.  Nice and sharp.”  He swallowed and reached for more cheese.  “Don’t believe for a moment that you’re out of the woods yet.  Ben can be very persistent.”  
   
Wanda swatted his hand away from the cheese.  “Keep eating and you’ll be grating more, sir.”  
   
“Shall I lay the table?”  
   
“Thank you, yes,” replied Wanda, adding the remainder of the cheese to the pot.  "And after supper you can lay me!” she added with a wink.  
   
“You're such a saucy woman!” Timothy laughed heartily.  “Literally and figuratively.”  
   
The couple laughed and exchanged a hug.  
   
As Timothy was setting three places at the small round table, Benedict came into the room.  Wanda looked up and noticed that his expression had softened somewhat.  
   
Benedict got a glass and filled it with water.  He leaned back with his slim hips against the cabinets and sipped at the water.  Timothy noted his son’s gaze was on his mother, who was doing her best to pretend all was well.  Timothy knew it was not.  
   
“What time is your driver picking you up?” asked Timothy, attempting to steer the conversation.  
   
“Tomorrow, late morning.  I forgot to check my mobile so I didn’t know my call time was changed.   I don’t have to be on set until after lunch.  At least that’ll give me time to sleep and study my lines.”  
   
Wanda added a teaspoon of dry mustard to the pot, followed by a touch of Worcestershire and some white pepper.  She stirred the sauce as if her life depended upon it.  After tasting and deciding it spiced to her satisfaction, Wanda spooned the cheese sauce carefully onto some toasted crumpets.  
   
“Looks like paste,” observed Benedict, wrinkling his nose.  
   
“Don’t be so cheeky,” admonished Wanda as she put the sandwiches under the broiler to brown the tops.  “Aren’t you the one who can never get enough of this - or is that my other son?”  
   
Benedict laughed and set down the glass.  He walked over and gave Wanda a hug.  “It’s my evil twin,” he said in a deep, menacing voice.  “He loves posh cheese on toast.”  
   
“Well then tell him to get the tomato chutney out of the fridge,” she instructed watching the bubbling sandwiches carefully.  
   
“Mum, we have unfinished business…” began Benedict gently as he set the jar on the table.  
   
“Can’t this wait until we’ve had our supper?” interrupted Wanda.  
   
“Your mother's right, Ben,” said Timothy.  “Let’s try and enjoy our meal.”  
  
  
  
  
Benedict sat on the couch with his script, going over his lines for the next day.  His father sat at the other end sipping a mug of steaming Earl Grey tea.   
  
“The kitchen's not so big that it should take so long for her to tidy up,” remarked Benedict to Timothy.  “She’s avoiding me,” he added as he stretched his long legs out and yawned.  “It can’t take that long to cut up a bloody pie!”  
  
“I’d be avoiding you too,” replied Timothy.  “She knows she’s overstepped her bounds.”  
  
“Well, this is the first and last time I’m doing any interviews in the house.  Next time I’ll have Karon arrange it in a café.”  Benedict closed the script and flung it down on the couch.  
  
“Good idea,” laughed Timothy. “That way you can only embarrass yourself.”  He looked up in time to catch Wanda poking her head out to see what they were up to.  He waved at her, and she ducked back inside.  
  
“Be right back.” Timothy rose and went into the kitchen.  Wanda was busy stirring demerara sugar into two mugs of tea.  He looked at her and shook his head.  
  
“I do believe Rome was built quicker than the time it’s taking you to get the pudding out.  Nice try, love, but he isn’t moving.  You're going to have to come out sooner or later.”  
  
“Shit,” she said.  “The way he kept yawning I was certain he’d go up early.”  
  
“Just go and face the music.  Let him have his say and listen this time – really listen.”  Timothy returned to the living room carrying two slices of banoffee pie.   
  
Wanda finally came out of the kitchen with two mugs of tea.  She placed one on the coffee table in front of Benedict and sat across from him in a large, overstuffed armchair.  She took a small sip and pursed her lips, prepared to do battle.  
  
“Okay, then.  Just what did I do that was so God-awful?” she asked Benedict.  “Is it a crime to want your child to be happy?”  
  
Benedict leaned his head back on the couch and huffed.  He looked up and shook his head.  “Christ on a crutch!  You’re not getting it!  I appreciate your concern, Mother. But I don’t need any help finding a suitable girlfriend.”  
  
“Humph!  So you say…” began Wanda.  
  
“Mother!” Benedict sat forward and raised his voice.  "I do say!"  
  
“Okay, let’s not get excited.” Timothy raised his hands to shush them; but both his wife and son ignored him.  
  
“How many successful dates have you had in the past six months – and don’t count that stuck up, skinny-ass ginger you brought around to tea.”  
  
“What was wrong with Jillian?”  
  
“Everything.”  
  
“She was beautiful!”  
  
“If you like giraffes, I suppose…”  
  
“She was very intelligent.”  
  
“Could have fooled me.  She thought Indonesia was an illness.”  
  
Benedict bit his lip.  His eyes flashed angrily.  
  
“Audra was definitely marriage material.”  
  
“Audra?”  
  
"She was a solicitor."  
  
“The blonde who looked like a Afghan hound?”  
  
"No, Mum."   
  
“Oh, yes.  The one who put your father in hospital with food poisoning.”  
  
“She was trying to impress you with her homemade sushi.”  
  
“Chicken needs to be cooked.”  
  
Mother and son stared at each other, both wanting to end the disagreement yet not wanting to give in to the other.  Timothy watched the identical ice blue eyes searching for understanding. Benedict sighed deeply and spread his hands in mock surrender.  
  
“It's not always easy to meet someone.  I don’t like going into clubs and chatting someone up.  Well, sometimes I do. But not all the time!  Most of the time these women are looking for…instant gratification…you know...living in the moment.  I don’t want a steady diet of that.  I want to find my soul mate…it’s just that my work is keeping me so busy that I don’t have time like I used to.”  
  
Wanda smiled.  “And this is where I can help!”  
  
“NO!” Benedict shouted, jumping to his feet.  “No, no, no, no, no!  I appreciate your concern, Mum, I really do. But I need to do this myself.  Please stop asking all your friends if they have a woman for me.  Please stop asking strangers. And _please_ stop giving out photos of me in the Sherlock costume.  They were just promotional photos for the pilot.  Who knows if BBC will even pick it up?”  
  
Wanda looked hurt. She put her head down and sniffed. “I love you, Benedict.  I only want the best for you.”  
  
Benedict knelt down beside her and spoke softly. “Please understand - it makes me feel like an unpopular child who needs his mummy to find him a playmate.”  
  
Wanda looked at him, tears in her eyes.  She nodded.  
  
“I’m going to bed.  I’m exhausted,” said Benedict finally.  He hugged her,  gathered up his script, pie and headed up the stairs.  
  
Wanda wiped her eyes and got to her feet.  
  
"You know there is something to be said for arranged marriages."  
  
"I'll help you cleanup," offered Timothy.  
  
A little while later Benedict's parents exited the kitchen.  
  
"I do believe it's time for me to collect my reward for being so helpful," teased Timothy playfully as they climbed the stairs.


	3. Chapter 3

The small 17th century crafter’s cottage was silent. Benedict was lounging on his single bed, clad in blue-and-white striped sleep pants, a white tee and re-reading the same paragraph for the fifth time. He yawned and lay the script across his stomach. Since coming upstairs to his tiny room, Benedict had spent the better part of two hours studying his lines, and he was starting to feel sleepy.

He gazed around the room, trying to refocus his eyes from the small print of the script. This had been his bedroom since he was 12 when his parents had purchased the 6-room, 2-story cottage in Gloucestershire as a weekend retreat. He smiled as he recalled how different it had looked back then…like a typical adolescent boy’s room full of dark wood, model spaceships and floor-to-ceiling shelves lined with all sorts of books and old toys. 

When he went away to Manchester University, he had given his mother permission to redecorate the room, as he had every intention of living on his own once he graduated. And redecorate it she did. It was as if he wasn’t coming back - ever. Benedict had been shocked at how light and airy it was the first time he laid eyes on Wanda’s handiwork. There were delicate white lace curtains framing the window. His bed now sported a brass headboard. Wanda had chosen a floral patterned duvet in shades of pink, green and white. The sheets and pillowcases matched the duvet. Benedict felt as if he were sleeping in a flower garden. His friends had teased him unmercifully about having a girl’s room. 

Then there was the piece de resistance: there was a shelf high up on the wall across from his bed that held part of Wanda’s collection of stuffed barn owls. Their faces perpetually seemed to watch his every move. Benedict especially hated it when he was attempting to have a wank, which he was often fond of doing once his parents had gone to bed. At times, he had felt so self-conscious that he had climbed up to turn them facing away so as they could not witness his secret nocturnal activities. He chuckled aloud at the times when his mother had come in to clean his room and asked him why her owls had been turned around. Benedict would only shrug innocently and change the subject.

Benedict stretched out full length, his six-foot frame now too long for the bed. His feet slightly hung over the edge. He closed the script and put it on his bedside table and stifled another yawn. No wonder his ex had hated staying over. 

 

 

He recalled the first time Olivia had come to spend the weekend at the cottage. It was during their second year at Uni. After dinner, Benedict had rushed upstairs as soon as he felt a decent amount of time had passed and prepared the room for an evening of what he thought would be hot sex. He was sadly mistaken.

"This is so romantic, Ben!" said Olivia approvingly as she scanned the room with a smile. She noted that the duvet had been turned down to the foot of the bed, and the pillows had been fluffed up against the headboard. There was soft jazz music coming from the clock radio on the bedside table. Her favorite scent, lavender, wafted from a chunky candle, filling the room. There were two wineglasses on the dressing table and her boyfriend of almost two years was standing next to the dressing table, clad only in his baby blue cotton boxers. "Want to tell me what all this is about?" she asked playfully removing the band that held her honey blonde hair in a ponytail and shaking it out. 

"Um...getting ready for bed?" replied Benedict innocently. He was about to uncork a bottle of white wine.

"Are you planning to gargle with the wine, then?" she said teasingly.

"Of course not!" he said with a nervous laugh. "I thought we'd have a nightcap before turning in." He winked suggestively at her and smiled.

Olivia walked over to the bedside table. She gestured to the lube and unopened pack of condoms. 

"It doesn't look like you're planning to go to sleep just yet. I'd venture to say that you're hoping to get laid." She smiled widely at him then re-fluffed one of the pillows.

Benedict filled the glasses and brought one over to Olivia. Again he smiled.

"What do you think my chances are?" he asked as he nuzzled her neck.

"I'd say excellent. Especially if you promise to do what you did the other night," she said as she sipped the wine. "Unless you'd rather we study for the upcoming exams." 

"Fuck the exams. I'd rather study you," he said as he lifted her blonde hair to kiss her neck. 

"I'd rather you'd study me, too." 

She sat on the bed and put the glass on the bedside table after draining it. Benedict locked the door. He crossed the room to the bed and took a long swallow of wine. He wiped his lips with the back of his hand and placed the glass next to hers. He removed his boxers and lay on the bed on his side. He gently stroked her back. His penis was getting harder by the minute and was throbbing in anticipation of her touch.

"Aren't you going to take your clothes off?" he asked in a low, husky voice. "Or shall I do it for you?"

Olivia laughed and fixed him with a playful look. "I'm feeling lazy. You do it."

Benedict pulled her down to him and began to kiss her. She immediately began to hug and kiss him with equal fervor. They began to giggle as he tried to climb on top of her without falling off the side of the bed. Their movements caused the bed to bounce under their weight. The springs squeaked loudly as they moved around.

"Shit, Ben, this is the noisiest bed I've ever been in!" Olivia whispered as Benedict tried to get her jumper over her head. "Be careful you don't fall off the side."

"Be quiet!" he whispered back. "I almost got the damn thing...just move your arm over your head. Jesus, Liv! That was my eye you almost poked out."

There was barely any room for the two of them in the tiny bed, and getting her clothes off was proving to be a challenge. The more he tugged at her jeans, the more she giggled and squirmed. Finally, as he pulled her jeans off, one of the slats supporting the mattress came out, tipping the mattress. Benedict fell to the floor with a loud thud, dragging a squealing Olivia off the bed and down on top of him. They both began to laugh hysterically. 

There was a brisk knock on the door. They tried to contain their laughter.

"Is everything alright in there?" Timothy's concerned voice came from the hallway.

"Yeah, Dad. The mattress slats shifted and the bed fell. We're sorting it out." 

"Do you need help?"

Benedict jumped up and pulled Olivia to her feet. She was nearly doubled over with laughter. "No!" he yelled. "We're fine. It's all fine! We're going to sleep now. Good night!"

They both stood and took a couple of minutes to compose themselves. Then they lifted the mattress back onto the slats.

"It could have been worse," Benedict pointed out.

"I don't know how much worse," Olivia said as she put the duvet and pillows back on the bed.

"It could have been my Mum rather than Dad. She would have told us to keep the acrobatics to a minimum."

Benedict and Olivia climbed back into the bed and lay side-by-side. It was a tight fit. They looked at each other and started to giggle again.

"Now, where were we?" asked Benedict.

"You were just about to make sweet love to me," she replied with a smile. "Quietly", she added.

"Let me get the light," said Benedict as he rolled onto his side to turn off the lamp.

Olivia suddenly sat up in bed and poked him in the ribs.

"Hey!" he exclaimed. "What was that for?"

"Bloody hell, Ben! What in God's name are those?" she asked, pointing to the stuffed barn owls up on the shelf across from the bed.

"Oh, Mum collects barn owls..."

Olivia poked him again. "I fucking well know what they are, Benedict; but why in the hell are they turned around like that?"

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck and hesitated before answering. He felt his face redden and took a deep breath and said in a rush, "Okay. I - I don't like when they're staring at me. I wouldn't be comfortable with them watching us shag."

Olivia covered her mouth to keep herself from laughing out loud. Her shoulders shook.

"You know, Ben, you're completely nutters! Now put the bloody things in the closet."

After that night, up until their final breakup, it had been a joke between them that the owls had to be turned around whenever they slept over. 

 

 

Benedict set the alarm clock and picked up the script. He paced around the room, going over his lines one last time. Satisfied that he finally knew them, he packed away the script and got out his luggage from under the bed. He went to the closet and surveyed the contents. Some things had already been worn, telling by the wrinkles. A couple of jumpers and shirts lie on the floor that he had just tossed in after a late night when he was too tired to hang up anything. With a sigh, Benedict stuffed his duffel bag with whatever clean clothing he could find and packed another bag with his toiletries. He put his iPod and mobile to charge. It was getting late and he needed to get some rest. 

Benedict got into bed and turned out the light. He covered himself with the duvet. Moonlight streamed through the lace curtains, softly illuminating the room. He closed his eyes and tried to drift off. Soon he found himself thinking about the girl he had seen in the tube station. He had noticed her walking in front of him when he got off the train at Oxford Circus. She was tall with short blonde curls and a lovely, voluptuous figure. Benedict had been particularly taken with her walk. It was a very confident walk. Head held high, back straight, her hips undulated from side-to-side as she made her way towards the escalator. She was wearing strappy, black stiletto heels and a black dress made of a clingy jersey fabric. He was trying to decide if she was wearing knickers or not as they boarded the escalator to the street. She got on several steps ahead of him, and Benedict found himself treated to a bird's eye view of her red lace thong. It was the first time he hadn't minded the long ride up to the station.

The sight had rendered several erotic fantasies over the past couple of weeks. Soon Benedict found himself with a throbbing erection. He unbuttoned his sleep pants and his hand found its way to his penis. He began to stroke himself slowly and rhythmically as he visualized her firm, plump buttocks. 

_I'd better get some tissue before I have a mess, he thought._

Benedict opened his beside drawer and got a wad of tissue to contain his ejaculate. He lay back down and began to stroke himself again, enjoying the pleasurable sensations. This time his eyes were open, and he noticed the moonlight falling across the faces of the owls. They seemed to be staring right at him. They looked almost cross. Benedict got up and took the footstool from his closet. He climbed up and found himself face-to-face with the stuffed birds.

"Okay, mates - for old time's sake," said Benedict as he began to turn the owls around.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the kind kudos and comments! Hope you enjoy reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it.

The next morning Wanda and Timothy woke up early.  They were busy preparing to return to their rooftop flat in Kensington.  Timothy had a recurring role in a period drama for the BBC and would be needed in the next couple of episodes. This would keep him busy for the next month or so, depending on how much screen time he was given.  Wanda's agent had set up an audition for her in a small supporting role in a new West End play but the backing had fallen through.  She would have plenty of free time on her hands while her husband was working.  
  
Wanda had packed up a small amount of clothing that they wanted to bring back with them and was now going through the kitchen cabinets and refrigerator.  Some things weren't perishable and could remain until they returned.  The rest would be taken back to London or binned.  
  
"Car's packed and filled with petrol," announced Timothy as he entered the kitchen.  "Radio reports light traffic on the M4.  We can leave whenever you're ready."  
  
Wanda poked her head out from behind the refrigerator door.   
  
"I'm just about done here.  Then we can go as soon as Ben leaves."  
  
"Speaking of Ben, any sign of him yet?  It's getting late," said Timothy, looking at his watch. "His driver's due to collect him soon, yes?"  
  
Wanda shook her head as she poured the remnants of some soured cream down the sink.  "In about fifteen minutes or so.  I know he was up late. I heard him when I went to the loo around midnight."  
  
"Ben takes after me.  He likes to run his lines aloud," said Timothy proudly as he opened the breadbox.  "I find it helps with getting the dialogue down pat.  Where's the other half of my chelsea bun?  Ah, here it is."  
  
"Ben wasn't running his lines," retorted Wanda with a smirk.  "He was having a wank.  I heard him moaning."  
  
Tim paused, bun midway to his mouth.  "Wanda Cumberbatch!  You were eavesdropping.  Have you no shame, woman?" he demanded.  
  
"Don't be ridiculous, Tim.  These walls are so thin you can hear everything."  
  
"Must have been awfully loud," Timothy mused, taking a bite of the bun.  "This house has very solid construction."  
  
"Our son is a lusty little thing, bless him," said Wanda with a wink.  "Just like his father."  
  
Timothy cleared his throat and changed the subject.  "Do you want to take this loaf of granary bread?"  
  
"I was going to make Ben some toast," she replied.  "If he can get his bum moving."  
  
The blackbird announced the hour from the lounge clock. Her bird clock was one of Wanda's favorite finds.  A different bird represented each hour - and each hour had its own distinctive birdsong.  
  
"Hmm...ten according to the blackbird. It really is getting late," said Timothy.  "I'll go up and wake him." He popped the last bit of bun into his mouth.  
  
"Not to worry. There have been signs of life.  I heard the shower running and plenty of swearing, so he'll be down soon," said Wanda.  
  
"Fancy a coffee while we await Sir Benedict?" asked Timothy.  He wiped his sticky fingers on a paper towel.   
  
"That'd be lovely," replied Wanda as she emptied the fruit bowl into the cooler.  
  
"Can you make it three, Dad?" asked a disheveled-looking Benedict from the doorway.  His curly hair was still damp from the shower, and he wore pale blue jeans that were ripped at the knees, a faded gray Manchester sweatshirt and well-worn black canvas trainers.  He was carrying a large duffel bag, his laptop case and a smaller messenger bag.  Benedict plopped them on the floor and went to inspect the contents of the fridge.   
  
"There's nothing in here but jams, pickles and mustard!" he said grumpily.  "What happened to all the food?"  
  
"Dad and I are heading back to Kensington as soon as you go. I can't leave anything that's going to go bad.  There's cereal in the pantry or granary bread."  
  
"How long will you be in Bristol?" asked Timothy as he poured three mugs of coffee.  He added one spoon of white sugar each for him and Wanda and two of the demerara sugar for Benedict.  
  
"Pembrokeshire," corrected Benedict. He took a bowl and filled it with Weetabix.   
  
"Did the milk survive the purging of the fridge?" he teased.  
  
"Yes," replied Wanda.  "In the cooler."  
  
“I’m going to miss having a driver once the movie’s wrapped,” Benedict said sadly as he sniffed at the milk.  “Are you sure this is still good?  It smells a bit off to me."  
  
Wanda took the carton from him and sniffed.  "It's fine." She added some to her and Timothy's coffees.   
  
"I worked at a perfumery.  My sense of smell is very keen."  Benedict frowned, took the carton from her and sniffed at the milk again.  "I still say it smells spoilt. I don't want to get food poisoning.  It's a long drive to Pembrokeshire."  
  
"Six months working in a perfume store in Piccadilly hardly qualifies you as Chanel material.  Now, stop fussing. It's fine," insisted Wanda.   
  
Benedict munched on the dry cereal.  
  
Timothy took a sip of the coffee and nearly spat it out.  "Christ, Wanda, this is bloody awful!  How much did you put in?"  
  
"I didn't."  She took a sip and made a face.  "Oh my. It's kind of like Turkish coffee...thick and strong."  She looked into the cup and swirled the contents in disgust.  
  
"I set up the coffeemaker before turning in," said Benedict.  "I've been experimenting to get just the right strength."  He tried the coffee and smacked his lips with satisfaction.  "Brilliant. Six spoonfuls it is!  Better than Caffe Nero."  He took another sip. "Now this is proper coffee!" he announced with pride.  
  
His parents exchanged looks and poured theirs down the sink.  
   
Timothy patted Wanda on the shoulder. “I'll treat you to a proper coffee at motorway services.”  
  
"How long do you expect to be gone, dear?" Wanda asked Benedict.  
   
“Two weeks at the most,” he replied, grabbing two bananas from the cooler to take with him.  “Is that all that’s left?  Just fruit and granary bread?” He kept on rummaging.  “What happened to the banoffee pie?”  
   
“It’s gone, I’m afraid,” said Wanda.  “I’ll make another one when you come back.”  
  
Benedict laughed.  "You don't make it, Mum. You buy it at Borough Market from the stand that sells all the different cheesecakes."  
  
"Seems your secret's out, Wanda," laughed Timothy as he washed the few dishes that were left.  Benedict got a tea towel and began to dry them.  After he finished, he put everything away.  Then he took the cooler outside and put it in the car for Timothy.  Wanda cleaned the sink and Timothy sat quietly at the kitchen table.  
  
 “I’ve got to start moving into my new flat,” Benedict announced when he came back inside.  “Maybe I can get my friends to help me paint when I get back.  I've helped them with all sort of things in their homes - so I'm thinking of calling in the favors.”  
   
“Is there a lot of work besides the painting?” said Timothy.  “I’m still good with a paintbrush.”  
   
“Thanks, Dad, but no." He ran his long fingers through his damp hair.  "I really want you and Mum to see it when it's all finished. It's nothing that I can't handle. It's practically move-in condition."   
  
Benedict sat and thought for a minute, running his fingers across his lips.  "Well, actually the wood floors could use a bit of refinishing. They're just a tiny bit scuffed in the lounge... well, maybe more than a little," he laughed nervously.  "I could cover it up with an area rug, I suppose.  A good general cleaning would probably suffice…the grout in the loo does needs to be scrubbed…there's some mold.  Mold can't be good to breathe in, can it?" He fretted and tugged on his earlobe.  
  
Wanda and Timothy exchanged worried glances. Neither of them had seen the flat yet.  Benedict had decided to buy a flat when the cost of his rental had gone up to more than he could afford.  He finally selected a place after searching for almost three months, and both parents were beginning to think that their son had bitten off more than he could chew.  
  
Benedict drummed his fingers on the table and continued:  "The porcelain in the tub has a couple of chips. The kitchen faucet does drip, so I'll just replace it.  I think it's too old to repair. Oh yeah, the windows are bare. I'll definitely need to cover those.  At least the stove looks brand new.  Can you believe the owner's wife never cooked anything in it? I’m going to have to rent a van to move my furniture from Adam’s garage."  He paused to take a deep breath.  
  
"With my work schedule, it's starting to get overwhelming.  I start filming Creation when I get back.” He rubbed the back of his neck in a nervous gesture.  “Then I’ve got some BBC4 radio programs to do.  I'm still waiting to hear from my agent if Sherlock was picked up. God, I don’t know what I’m going to do.”   
  
He frowned, rocked back in his chair and sighed deeply.   
  
Timothy noticed Benedict biting his lip - a sure sign that he was stressed and nervous. He again considered suggesting that he and Wanda help their son get the place in shape but thought better of it.  Once Benedict's mind was made up nothing short of a miracle could change it.  
   
Wanda steepled her hands under her chin and pursed her lips.  “Well, if you had a bird, she could take care of all this while you worked.  You certainly can't do all that alone.  Ben, you need someone to take care of you and the flat.  Someone who’s going to make sure you’re eating right and getting enough rest.”  
   
Benedict suddenly sat up straight.  He paused to stare at her.  He looked from his mother to his father and back again, blue eyes flashing angrily.  “Jesus Christ. I can't believe this. Here we go again.”  
   
“Someone who’s going to do the laundry and sew up those ripped knees on the jeans you're wearing, for one thing—"  
  
"It's the style, Mum."  
  
"And be supportive of you!”  
   
Benedict gritted his teeth. “When I last looked, I already had a mother.”  
   
“I mean a girlfriend…wife…lover...partner! It doesn't matter which.   You know damn well what I mean, Benedict Timothy Carlton Cumberbatch!” exclaimed Wanda, raising her voice and stabbing the air with her finger. “Don’t be so cheeky.”  
   
“Wait.  So I'm wrong for being cheeky." Benedict held up his hands in mock surrender. “The solution's so obvious I don't know why I didn't think of it myself!  You’re not describing a wife or a girlfriend, you're describing a maid.  That’s what I’ll do!  I’ll hire a fucking maid with all the money I’m not making!”   
  
Benedict pushed his chair back and leapt to his feet. “No!  Mum, this has got to stop.  This is driving me insane!" he yelled in exasperation.  "I'm not seven anymore!"  
  
There came the sound of someone knocking on the front door.   
   
Timothy banged his fist on the table, causing both his wife and son to jump.  
  
 “ENOUGH!” he roared.  “Wanda, Ben's a grown man and needs to live his life. Stop meddling.  Benedict, stop being so damn fucking cheeky to your mother! She only has your best interests at heart.”  
  
"Well, I don't hear any opinions from you," scoffed Wanda, tossing her head.  "You sit there and say nothing."  
  
"That's because I can't get a word in edgewise between the two of you!" Timothy sighed in exasperation.  
  
Benedict and Wanda looked at Timothy.  Timothy felt the two pairs of blue eyes focused on him.  He cleared his throat.  
  
"I think the problem is we've been cooped up together for the past few months in Kensington while you were waiting for the paperwork on your new place to get sorted."  
  
"I haven't been home the whole time," pointed out Benedict peevishly.  "I've spent two months up in Pembrokeshire filming Third Star. I go out a lot when I'm home.  It's not like I sit in the flat all the time, for fuck's sake!"  
  
"I realize that, Ben," Timothy said.  "The truth is you're used to living on your own.  We're used to living on our own. Isn't that so, love?"  He looked at Wanda.  
  
She nodded.  "There's a lot of truth to that old saying - you can't go home again."  
  
There came the sound of knocking on the front door again.  
  
"Now, add to the mix that we've just spent four very long days together here.  We all know it's close quarters to say the least.  It was different when you were younger, Ben.  Now you're an adult who needs his own space and privacy."  
  
Benedict looked sullen.  Wanda looked defeated. Timothy felt the bile rising in his throat.   
  
There came the sound of pounding on the door.  They all jumped.  
  
"Fuck!  It's Alfred!" Benedict rushed to gather up his luggage. "I'll be right out," he shouted as he slung the bags over his shoulders.  "Where in the hell did I put my fags?" He felt around in his pockets.  "Oh, yeah.  Got them."  
  
Timothy sighed audibly.  “Ah, saved by the driver.”  
   
Benedict kissed Wanda on the cheek.  “Look, I'm sorry for getting cross but Dad's right. We're getting on each other's nerves." He rubbed the back of his neck.  "Please just let me find my own – bird.  Love you.”  
   
“Love you, Benedict,” said Wanda, hugging him close to her.  “Have a good shoot, dear.”  
   
Benedict hugged and kissed Timothy on the cheek.  
  
 "Don't worry. I'm going to talk to her tomorrow. This will pass," Timothy whispered in his son's ear.  He straightened up.  "I have a quick call to make then.  Seen you soon."  With that Timothy disappeared into the back room.  
  
Wanda followed her son to the door.  She watched Benedict start down the walk, shifting the weight of his bags.  It had been her intent to simply wave to the driver and say hello, but the thought that had been deep inside her all morning was threatening to come bubbling to the top at the sight of Alfred.  
  
 _What harm could it do to mention it, Wanda?  It's a long drive and will give them something to chat about.  Should I?  Tim wouldn't approve, but all the same...when an opportunity presents itself..._  
   
Before she knew it, Wanda had called after her son.  
  
 “Did you know, Ben, that Alfred has two single daughters?  One's at Oxford and the other's a barrister!  Each one a beauty.”  
  
Benedict felt the hairs prickle on the back of his neck.  He stopped dead in his tracks. He slowly turned around and walked back towards his mother.  "Might I ask how you came to know this?" he asked in a low growl.  
  
"Well, the last time Alfred came to collect you, you had overslept.  All I did was invite the poor man in and make him a nice bacon butty and a cuppa. I certainly couldn't ask him to sit in that car and wait for God knows how long."  
  
 _This is a fucking nightmare and I'm the star!  thought Benedict._  
  
Benedict felt his left eye begin to twitch.  He rubbed at it.  
  
"We got to chatting while he was eating. It's quite normal to talk about one's children," continued Wanda nonchalantly.  "He told me all about his daughters and showed me their photos."  
  
Oh, how I doubt that. She asked to see their photos.  
  
Benedict felt the blood rushing to his head, and his face started to burn with anger.   He turned on his heel and strode back down the walk.   
  
 _Okay...that wasn't so bad.  I bet he'll ask about the girls, thought Wanda_  
  
Benedict tossed his bags into the open boot of the car, and slammed the lid down with such force that the car shook.  He suddenly turned to his mother and threw up his hands in defeat.   
   
“For fuck’s sake, Mum, why don’t you just put an ad in Craigslist for a bird for me?!”  With that, Benedict climbed into the car and slammed the door shut before the driver had a chance to close it for him.  
  
Wanda watched the car drive away.  She frowned and folded her arms.  
  
"Well done, you!" came Timothy's voice from behind her as he patted her on the shoulder. "I guess you're mighty pleased with yourself."  
  
Wanda started at the sound of his voice, cheeks burning with embarrassment.  
  
 _Shit, he heard the whole thing. He was supposed to be on the phone._  
  
"So, ready to lock up then?"  He was holding her purse out to her.  
  
She looked up and took the purse.  "Yes. Thank you, love."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Wanda was gazing out the window as Timothy drove the car along the Motorway towards London.  He wondered what was wrong.  Usually, his wife was quite chatty during car trips and the time always passed quickly.  He adjusted the radio volume and glanced sideways at her.  She sat sipping at her coffee, seemingly deep in thought.  
  
"You've been very quiet since we left the house," said Timothy.  "Pence for your thoughts?"  
  
Wanda took another sip of the coffee and sighed.  Benedict's final words to her had been playing over and over in her mind.  An idea had been born - a very good idea if all went to plan.  
  
 _“For fuck’s sake, Mum, why don’t you just put an ad in Craigslist for a bird for me?!”_  
  
Wanda Ventham patted her lips with a napkin and smiled at her husband.  
  
"Oh, just thinking about a little project I want to start once we get home."


	5. Chapter 5

 

Wanda Ventham poured water into the clear glass bud vase and added the red rose the florist had brought. Every Monday morning since they had been dating, Timothy had arranged for a perfect single red rose to be delivered as a token of his love. Being they had gotten home late Monday afternoon, Timothy had changed the delivery to Tuesday morning. Wanda placed the vase on the end table in the lounge next to her favorite chair, so she could enjoy the fragrance while reading or watching television. The romantic gesture never failed to make her smile and be thankful that she was fortunate to have such a thoughtful and loving husband.  
  
“Ah, there you are,” said Timothy as he came into the lounge. He was dressed and ready to head off to the studio for the script read-through. He bent down and took a sniff of the rose. “This one is particularly fragrant,” he remarked as he took his wife in his arms and kissed her gently on the lips. “Good morning, darling.”  
  
“Yes, it is a good morning.” She smiled up at him, her ice blue eyes sparkling. “It may be raining outside but your rose never fails to brighten my day!”  
  
“Oh, it’s raining then?” he asked as he released her and looked out the window. It was indeed raining heavily. “Damn. Looks like the tube for me. It’ll be impossible to get a cab in this weather,” he sighed.  
  
“Come and have some breakfast before you go,” suggested Wanda, going into the kitchen. She ladled some hot porridge into a bowl and topped it with chopped apples and walnuts. The final touch was a heavy sprinkling of cinnamon and demerara sugar. She set it before Timothy and brought him a mug of coffee that she had added milk and white sugar to.  
  
“This looks good and smells even better.” Timothy added some milk to the cereal and stirred it in.  
  
Wanda smiled to herself as she got her own bowl of cereal and sat across from him. Timothy never failed to compliment her on whatever she cooked for him, no matter how simple. Timothy even praised her kitchen disasters. She counted herself fortunate that her husband and son were not picky eaters.  
  
Timothy raised the mug to his lips and inhaled deeply. He took a sip and nodded approvingly.

“Now this is a proper cuppa!” he proclaimed, savoring the hot brew. “Unlike our son’s idea of coffee,” he added with a smirk.  
  
“Oh, his coffee is godawful!” agreed Wanda. “It's like espresso on steroids. I can't stomach it no matter how much milk and sugar I put in." She shivered at the memory of Benedict's extremely strong coffee. "Every night he sets it up for autobrew before I have a chance to.”  
  
“One of the few things he does do on time." Timothy snickered.  
  
They ate in companionable silence for a few minutes. The only sound was that of the rain hitting the kitchen window.  
  
“I’m thinking of roasting a chicken tonight,” said Wanda. “Or would you fancy something else?”  
  
“Why don’t we go out?” countered Timothy. “I shouldn’t be home much later then say, half past six. We can try the new Italian place on Kensington High Street next to the cleaners. This would be the perfect night for it.”  
  
“You don’t have to ask me twice,” Wanda said, taking a swallow of coffee. “Should I invite Diana and Geoff to join us then?”  
  
Timothy shook his head and reached out to give her hand a quick squeeze.

“I was thinking just the two of us would be nice. Call me selfish, Wanda, but I’d like your company all to myself.”  
  
Wanda frowned slightly over the rim of her mug.

“Somehow I sense there’s a bit more to it than that. Something on your mind, Tim?”  
  
No sooner had the words left her mouth then she knew it was a mistake.  
  
Timothy hesitated before speaking. “ I would just relish a quiet meal after this past weekend of non-stop bickering between you and Benedict.” He looked at her meaningfully.

 _Blimey! I should've known he would say his piece sooner or later, thought Wanda._  
  
Wanda quickly rose from her chair and cleared the table. She rinsed and put the dishes into the dishwasher. She thought about the events of the weekend. Timothy was, unfortunately, right. How she hated when he was right! Since Benedict had temporarily moved back in, the arguments had been more frequent. The more she thought about it, Wanda realized she had been the catalyst for these rows. It still pained her that she had caused Benedict to leave in a huff the day before.

 _If only I could just keep my mouth shut! Fat chance of that happening. I shall never wonder where Benedict gets his loose tongue._  
  
“So, have you nothing to say for yourself? I find that very hard to believe."  
  
Wanda looked over her shoulder. Timothy was leaning back with his still-slim hips against the white mica cabinets while he finished his coffee. He looked very much like Benedict when he stood like that. She knew he would stay there until he answered her. Timothy was as still as Benedict was fidgety.

Wanda wiped her hands on a tea towel and turned to face her husband. She tucked her graying blonde hair behind her ears and pushed her sleeves up over her elbows. She smiled nervously and spread her hands in a helpless gesture.  
  
“I don’t know what gets into me, Tim. I really don't. It was wrong to badger him in front of the journalist. I kept thinking to myself that surely she would know a nice bird…maybe she had a friend or knew someone who had a friend. I just popped into the room to ask her when he left to use the loo. It was just an innocent inquiry. Who knew he’d come back so quickly? Benedict is many things - but quick isn't one of them. I know I shouldn’t nag him about settling down and having children. I realise it's a sore spot with him, but…” She paused and studied the black-and-white check patterned tiles on the floor.  
  
"But?” Timothy prodded with the slightest touch of impatience. He put the empty mug on the counter.  
  
“We’re not getting any younger. I’d like to be able to enjoy our grandchildren before we have to go to the Old Actors' Home.”

"For God's sake, Wanda! That's really quite enough!" Timothy said sharply. His hands gripped the edge of the countertop behind him, knuckles white. “May I remind you that you have enjoyed grandchildren! You have two beautiful granddaughters from your marriage to James.”  
  
Wanda looked up. There was sadness in her eyes.

“Yes, that's absolutely true, Tim. I have loved every minute of being a grandparent. I adored helping Tracy take care of them and watching them grow up. Now Emmy's at Uni, and Jen's almost done with Secondary School and will be taking her gap year. I miss having a baby to fuss over. Most importantly, I want you to have grandchildren of your own to bond with. Benedict is our son together. It’s his children I want us to be able to enjoy together. Wouldn't it be wonderful to see the Cumberbatch bloodline continue? It pains me that you're missing out on something so special.”

 _Ah, so that's it, thought Timothy. She's worried that I'm missing out by not having grandchildren of my own._  
  
“Tracy always made sure I was part of her daughters' lives. The girls have always treated me as if I were their grandfather,” Timothy pointed out. ‘And I love Tracy for that. I'm satisfied with that. I understand that you want me to have grandchildren by Benedict and why it's important to you. There's nothing that would please me more than to see the Cumberbatch name carried on, but we're just going to have to be patient and see what the future brings.”

_Sometimes the future needs a little help, thought Wanda. Just a little push._

"I always thought by now he and Olivia would have been married with at least two kids," said Wanda sadly. "None of the others he's brought home since the break up have been worthy daughter-in-law material."

Timothy pursed his lips and thought for a minute.

"Anna was nice. I liked her," he offered.

Wanda rolled her eyes.

"That's the bird who didn't eat whenever she came to dinner. I was getting a complex that there was something wrong with my cooking. She tasted everything, but ate nothing."

"You're a brilliant cook! I recall Ben mentioning that she just didn't have much of an appetite."

Wanda rolled her eyes again.

"Olivia suited him," she stated. "They would have made beautiful children together."

"Maybe so, but it didn't work out..."

"Humph! I still say she was jealous of his career...his star rising and hers stagnant."

Timothy shook his head and took a deep breath.

"There are two sides to every story, Wanda. Benedict's not perfect. Olivia's not perfect. We've heard both versions of the breakup and the truth lies somewhere in between."

"I still liked her," insisted Wanda, her hands on her hips. "I also liked her family," she added. "There are times when I don't think Ben should be with an actress. It avoids competition."

"We're in the same profession and we get along brilliantly," observed Timothy.

"That's because I'm such an easy-going person," said Wanda with a wink.

"Wanda, my pet, you're many things - but easy-going isn't one of them!"

He ran his hand through his thick, silver hair and paused for a moment to collect his thoughts before steering the conversation back on track.

_I will never again wonder how Benedict can constantly wander off-topic. His role model stands before me._

"I'm going to say this one final time," said Timothy raising his voice slightly, desperately trying not to lose patience. "Please listen and let me finish. We're on the same side, darling. We're both in agreement that we want Ben to find someone who will make him happy beyond his wildest dreams. I concede that his dating choices have been less than stellar."

_Ah ha! Deep down inside, he thought I was right! Wanda smiled to herself triumphantly._

"Now, with that said...."

_Bloody hell! I'm not out of the woods yet._

"Ben has to make time to meet women. He has to date at his own pace. Along the way he's going to have dating successes and disasters. Then one day, the right one will come along, and we'll get our grandchildren. It's as simple as that and most importantly - none of our business."

Timothy took Wanda by both arms and looked into her eyes.

"Wanda, Ben loves you very much, but you can't push him like this. He sees it as humiliating when you intervene on his behalf. Haven't you noticed that when you tick him off, he only digs in his heels? Lord knows you love him with all your heart and feel protective of him. You're his mother and that's perfectly normal."

_Now I know where Ben gets his wordiness from, Wanda thought._

"But if you continue to bicker with him, it will only drive him away," admonished Timothy. "Is that what you hope to accomplish?"

"Of course not!" exclaimed Wanda. Tim's words had upset her.

"I couldn't bear that." She was silent for a minute and sighed deeply. "Okay, I see your point. I won't mention it again."

"Good. Now, I'm off to the studio," said Timothy kissing her soundly on the lips. "Any plans for today?" he asked as they walked to the front door.

"Just catching up on the laundry. Maybe I'll have a putter on the computer afterwards."

Timothy shrugged into his raincoat and took his umbrella from the stand in the hallway.

"Enjoy your day, my love."

"You, too," she said.


	6. Chapter 6

Timothy Carlton selected a quiet corner table in the Nordic Bakery in which to have his lunch.  He set down his tray, which contained a gravlax-and-cucumber sandwich on dark rye bread with mustard-dill dressing and a bottle of blueberry juice.  While he ate, he removed his mobile phone from his pocket and checked the messages he had received.  They were all from Benedict.  
  
 _Must be calling every time he has a break, he mused. Patience has never been one of his strong points._  
  
Timothy munched some of his sandwich and hit the speed dial for Benedict's mobile.  His son answered on the first ring.  
  
 _"Dad, I've been trying to reach you all morning!  Then the last time I called and tried to leave a message your mailbox was full.  I didn’t want to risk calling the flat 'cos Mum’s there and — "_  
  
"I know, Ben.  I got all twenty of your messages, which is why my mailbox was full.  There was no need to panic.  I always return your calls as soon as I can.  Did you forget that I'm at the script read-through today?  The director asked everyone to set their mobiles on vibrate."   
  
Timothy sighed. "Believe me, I felt your presence all morning. It was like having a hip massage." He massaged his temples. "How's the shoot going, then?"  
  
 _"I'd say very well, actually. We’re having a great time.  Hattie's given me nothing but positive feedback.  We've been out here filming since dawn because a storm’s expected by teatime. I did forget about the read-through.  Sorry I kept ringing you. I thought you were out of range, or perhaps in the tube.  I wanted to make sure we had a chance to talk without Mum around."_  
  
Timothy finished chewing and swallowed.  He took a sip of his juice.  
  
"Ben, at times you can be a persistent pain in the arse - and this is one of them."  
  
There was silence on the other end.  
  
Timothy drank some more juice and waited.  
  
More silence.  
  
 _Sir Benedict must be miffed, he thought._  
  
He took another bite of the sandwich.  He eyed the cinnamon rolls in the display counter.  They looked very good.  He imagined they tasted even better.   
  
"How's the weather up there?" Timothy said finally. "Rain's let up here for the most part."  
   
 _"Sunny so far,"_ replied Benedict.  There was a touch of irritation in his voice.  _"It rained quite a bit last night, so there's a lot of mud. My feet feel wet even though I've got waterproof boots on.  Maybe my feet are just sweating from the thick socks. I'm not sure!  We’re staying in these little plastic tents.  Everything just feels so damp and chilly.  I hope I don't catch a cold!  I need my voice."_  
  
"I know we've discussed this before, Ben.  You can only catch a cold from a virus," explained Timothy patiently as he finished off the sandwich.   
  
 _"I don't know about that."_  
  
"Trust me. You won't."  
  
Silence.  
  
 _Maybe I'll bring back one of those cinnamon rolls to the read-through, thought Timothy.  It would go well with a cup of tea later on._  
  
 _"Dad, did you talk to Mum yet?"_  
  
Timothy finished his drink and switched the mobile to his other hand.  
  
"Yes, this morning."  
  
 _“And?”_  
  
“She promises to mind her own business.”  
  
 _“That’s it?  That's all she said?  Jolly good, then.  She was driving me crazy. Thank you for sticking up for me.  I appreciate it - really.  You don't know what all those arguments were doing to me.  I thought my ulcer was going to come back.”_  
  
Timothy pulled out the roll of Bisodol and popped one into his mouth.  He swallowed and cleared his throat.  
  
“Don't play the martyr.  You're not without fault here, Benedict.  You contributed to the bickering,” he said.  “You need to control your temper and try to understand what's motivating her before getting on your high horse.”  
  
Benedict sighed loudly.  
  
 _“I somehow knew this was going to come back to me.”_  
  
“Benedict, have you ever given any thought as to why your mother is so hell-bent on finding you someone nice?’  
  
Benedict clucked his tongue and sighed again.  
  
 _“Well, let’s see. She wants to see me hooked up with a woman, excuse me – a bird – so she can have more grandchildren. Of course this bird has to meet her ridiculously high expectations without giving a flying fuck about what I might want in a relationship.”_  
  
“Really?” asked Timothy feeling a bit annoyed. “Is that what you think?”  
  
 _“Um, yeah. That’s what I think.”_  
  
“Humph. Well, my boy, you don’t.”  
  
 _“Don’t what?”_ asked Benedict peevishly.  
  
“Think!” said Timothy.  “Christ, Benedict, you're so much like your mother at times it scares me."   
  
There was silence.  
  
Timothy glanced at his watch.  He still had some time left before he had to return to the studio.  
  
 _“I give up, Dad.  Enlighten me, please.”_  
  
 _He can be so impatient and cheeky sometimes, Timothy mused, Wanda's right about that._  
  
“Ben, there's a couple of issues.  First, your mother’s instincts are to protect and nurture you – regardless of how old you are. It saddens her that you don’t know the happiness that comes from having a family of your own.  It was a great disappointment to her when you and Olivia broke up. To both of us, for that matter.”  
  
 _“It was necessary,”_ said Benedict matter-of-factly.  _“Neither marriage nor kids were an option at that point in our lives. I just can’t pull a family out of thin air, Dad, no matter how much I may long for one,”_ he added wistfully.  
  
“No, you can’t.  It takes time, Ben. You just have to keep reminding yourself that she’s only acting out of love.  Be patient with your mother. I can assure you that there was never any malice intended.”  
  
Silence.  
  
Timothy could visualize Benedict scratching his head as he mulled his words over.   He watched the girl at the counter place a tray of fresh cinnamon rolls in the showcase.  The cinnamon scent wafted through the bakery cafe.  
  
 _“What you say does makes sense,”_ Benedict said after a couple of minutes had past.  _“That’s one issue.  You mentioned two.”_  
  
“Apparently I’m the other issue.”  
  
 _“You?”_  
  
“Yes.  Your mother is concerned that I don’t have grandchildren of my own.”  
  
 _“What about Tracy’s girls?  You’ve always been involved in their lives as far back as I can remember.  They even call you Grandpa. Surely that counts for something?”_  
  
“Of course it does, Ben.  I've always thought of them as my granddaughters.  I tried explaining it to your mother, but she feels very strongly that I’m missing out by not having any grandchildren by you.”  
  
 _“Christ,”_ mumbled Benedict under his breath. _"Back to me again."_  
  
“To sum up the way your mother sees it, the three of us are a family.  Her fondest wish is for you – our son together – to find a mate and have children.  Then not only will your mother and I have grandchildren together, but that way the Cumberbatch name lives on.”  
  
 _“You use Carlton as a surname,”_ pointed out Benedict. _“Are you sure you want Cumberbatch to live on?”_  
  
“Don’t be a wisearse!” snapped Timothy.  “You know damn well I only use Carlton as a stage name.  I’m Timothy Cumberbatch in every other phase of my life.”  
  
Benedict laughed.  
  
 _“I was only joking, Dad.  May I remind you that I don’t use a stage name? I’m perfectly happy as a Cumberbatch.”_  
  
“Touché,” laughed Timothy.  “Do you understand where your mother's coming from now?”  
  
 _“Yeah.  I think I do.  I’m glad you told me.  I really feel like a dolt for yapping at her all weekend.  I’ll give her a call later to apologize.”_  
  
“Glad to hear it,” said Timothy with a sign of relief.  He checked his watch.  “I’d better ring off now.  I’m due back at the studio in ten minutes.”  
  
Timothy heard a voice in the background shout _“Benedict, you’re wanted on set!”_  
  
 _“I’ve got to go, Dad. Talk to you in a couple of days, then.”_  
  
Timothy got up, binned his trash and bought a cinnamon roll to take back with him for tea.  He hummed as he walked back to the studio, feeling most pleased with himself that he had finally gotten through to his wife and son.   
  
  
  
 

  
  
  
After Wanda had closed and locked the door behind Timothy, she crossed the room to the desk and turned on the computer.  It took her an hour to go through and respond to her emails.  Her agent had offers for a commercial and a radio drama.  She would accept both of them.  There was an invitation to a christening party, which she declined due to a prior engagement.   Her friend, Liz, who lived in Paris, had written to announce that her son's wife was pregnant for the third time.  There was an attachment showing a photo of the ultrasound.  Wanda sent an email of congratulations.   
  
Lastly was a link to an online album of holiday photos from her friend, Judith, who had just returned from a family trip to Euro Disney with her daughter and her family; Wanda spent almost an hour looking at them.  
  
 _If this gets any more heart-warming, I may vomit, she thought._  
  
The last photo was a group shot of the whole family in front of Sleeping Beauty's Castle.  Everyone was wearing matching Mickey Mouse T-shirts and mouse ears.  
  
 _Oh, bloody fucking hell!  I want to do that one day!  At the rate Benedict is going, we'll never get the chance._  
  
She imagined herself and Timothy on such a trip with Benedict and his family. They would all be wearing matching Winnie-the-Pooh T-shirts with "Cumberbatch Family Trip" printed on the back.  _If only it were true..._  
  
Wanda was jolted out of her reverie when the phone rang.  It was a wrong number.  She sighed and typed a hasty response to Judith's email.   
  
Next she browsed the Guardian with every intention of catching up on the news. Before long, she found herself on Craigslist. Wanda had promised herself that she wouldn't actually carry out her plan, but she was curious as to what the ads looked like.  Her fingers somehow acquired a mind of their own and soon she was reading the personal ads.  After several minutes, Wanda found herself on the brink of making a decision.  
  
 _What to do? Tim would be furious. What if Ben found out? It wouldn't be good.  No, mind your own business, Wanda.  Let nature take its torturously slow course._  
  
She thought about Liz's grandchild's ultrasound.  
  
 _If I had one, I'd put it in a frame on the piano._  
  
Then Judith's family photo flashed in her mind.   
  
 _I would make it into a Christmas card._  
  
She couldn't get the happy faces and the adorable baby out of her mind.   
  
 _Shit. If only Tim could experience the joy._  
  
Wanda found that the decision was surprisingly easy to make.  
  
The phone rang.  It was her one of her closest friends, Una Stubbs.  
  
 _"Fancy some company for lunch?"_  
  
"I'd love it!" replied Wanda happily.  "I'm dying to run something past you. I'll make us a salad nicoise, no olives for you."  
  
 _"Sounds fine. I just pulled an apple crumble from the oven and it has your name on it.  Is one o'clock good?"_  
  
"Excellent! I adore nothing more than your company and your apple crumble.  See you then," said Wanda as she rang off.

  
  
Wanda Ventham opened up a new Word document and began to type:  
  
 **Wanted:  Daughter-in-Law**  
  
  
  
  
  
  
   
   
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My heart-felt thanks to my ever-so-patient proofreader and editor, L-Chan! Sherlock would be lost without his blogger, and I'd be lost without you! XX


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The relationship depicted between Wanda Ventham and Una Stubbs is based only a tiny bit on some articles/interviews. It is fictional for the most part.

Una Stubbs stood behind Wanda, peering over her shoulder at the computer screen. Una and Wanda had been close friends ever since they had met on the set of Mister Ten Percent.  Wanda had played the part of Kathy and Una the part of Lady Dorothea in the comedy film back in 1967. The two had hit it off immediately and became friends.  They still lived in the same section of Kensington and had sons the same age.  
  
"Give me your honest opinion," said Wanda, excitedly looking up at her friend.  
  
"Hmm...I don't care much for the color.  I'd suggest a foundation with pink overtones.  Your skin looks too orange."  
  
"That's not what I meant, Una!  Look here," Wanda gestured impatiently to the computer screen.  "I'd like you to read this."  
  
Una put on her reading glasses and read the text on the screen aloud:  
  
  
  
 ****

 **Daughter-in-law Wanted**

  
  
 **Are you tired of travelling life's journey alone?  Are you tired of fruitless searches to find the right man?  Are you ready to reap the rewards of a happy relationship?**  
  
 **If you have answered 'yes' to any of these questions, look no further.**  
  
 **Prospective mother-in-law seeks mate for 32-year-old never-married son.  If you are an attractive, single, non-smoking female, 25-35, with a zest for life; my son is the man for you.  You will find him handsome, intelligent, sensitive, down-to-earth, ambitious, passionate, kind-hearted, hard-working, trustworthy and fun-loving. He is Harrow-educated, with University and Masters degrees.**  
  
 **The right candidate must be friendly and outgoing with a strong sense of family values and morals.  University degree or higher required. Good listening and conversational skills are essential. Sensitivity, good manners and a sense of humor are necessary. Compatibility is very important, therefore, you must be interested in music, literature and the arts. Must be competent at maintaining a household and good at maths. Willingness to bear many children. Cooking skills and fashion sense a plus. Sexual experience optional.**  
  
 **If my son sounds like the perfect man for you, and you meet all the requirements; I can assure you that you will have nothing to lose by contacting me.  What you will gain is a loving, devoted, family-orientated partner to travel through life with together in bliss and harmony!**  
  
 **Send resume, medical history and photo to WNDAVC@gmail.uk**  
  
  
  
  
Una removed her glasses and stared at her friend in disbelief.  
  
"This is surely a joke, yes?" She peered down her nose at Wanda.  
  
"Not at all."  
  
"Please tell me you didn't post this."  
  
"Not yet," replied Wanda.  "I wanted your input first."  
  
Una leaned over and looked at the computer screen again.  She ran her tongue over her lower lip.  
  
"I believe you have described Prince Charming and Cinderella quite well."  
  
"Una! Be serious!"  
  
"You certainly don't need my opinion."  
  
"And why not?" asked Wanda, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"Well, it's obvious you should be consulting the Pope or a breeder - because you're describing either a saint or a cocker spaniel."  
  
"Really, Una, be serious!" scoffed Wanda, waving her hand.  
  
"I am being serious.  Does Timothy know about this?"  
  
"Of course not!" exclaimed Wanda with a horrified expression.  "He'd never understand."  
  
"Wanda Cumberbatch, I can't believe you would actually do something this crazy.  Have you lost your bloody mind?" Una shook her head. "Timothy will hit the ceiling if he finds out, and I don't even want to think about what Benedict's reaction will be!"  
  
"Una!  You've been listening to me all afternoon!  Did you not understand the problem?" asked Wanda in exasperation as she swiveled around in her chair to face her friend.  
  
Una removed her glasses and folded her arms across her chest.  
  
"I listened to your every word, love.  Benedict's feeling broody but is either too busy to find a bird or the ones he does find are rubbish.  You want Timothy to have his own grandkids, and you're jealous of everyone else's. Is that it in a nutshell?"  
  
"Yeah." Wanda nodded as she twirled a strand of hair around her finger. "That's it exactly."  She looked away for a moment and then back at Una.  
  
"I never realized just how jealous I was until you said it. God forgive me, but I am...blimey, that makes me sound horrible."  
  
Una pulled up a chair and sat beside her. She patted Wanda's hand.  
  
"You're not horrible, Wanda.  You're becoming impatient about things you have no control over."  
  
Wanda leaned back in her chair and sighed.  
  
"I'm tired of looking at ultrasounds and holiday photos. Tim and I are getting older everyday.  Ben keeps dating these empty-headed dolly birds.  I know the type of woman he needs more than he does, yet I'm torn about placing the ad."  She paused to take a deep breath. "What do you think I should do?"  
  
"I think you should get a puppy."  
  
"I don't want a puppy, Una.  I just want to help Ben find a nice bird so he can get on with his life!"  
  
"Do you want my opinion or not?"  
  
"Yes!  You know I value your opinion," said Wanda, crossing her legs.  
  
"I think Ben's doing fine without your help. He has plenty of friends, and from what you tell me a decent social life. He's bought his own place up in Hampstead. He's been working steady - and that speaks volumes for an actor.  Your Ben is very talented, Wanda.   All he needs is that one big break."  
  
"Then he'll never have time to meet anyone!  Besides, he's the one who gave me the idea in the first place. I'm just acting on his suggestion," said Wanda, casting a sideways glance at her friend.  
  
"I'll bet you a hundred quid that wasn't what Benedict meant at all," said Una.  "Now, stop worrying so much! Relax and concentrate on your upcoming gigs.  Fate will lead him to the right bird eventually."  
  
"Fate is taking too leisurely of a pace to suit me," said Wanda.  She paused for a moment, appearing to study a pen she had picked up off the desk.  
  
Una said nothing.  She waited.  Her friend seemed to be at odds with herself.   
  
Finally, Wanda looked at Una and smiled.  
  
"I just want to give fate a little poke."  
  
"And how, may I ask, do you plan on doing that?"  
  
"Well, I'm going to pick the best candidates from the ad responses and interview them."  
  
"Interview them?"  
  
"How else will I be able to weed out the unqualified ones?"  
  
"Where do you intend to conduct these interviews - not here, certainly?"  
  
Wanda bit her lip and shook her head.  
  
"It wouldn't be a good idea to do it here.  I never know when Tim's show may wrap early or if Ben's going to pop in. I'd have a hell of a time trying to cover my tracks."  
  
Wanda indicated the screen again with her pen.  
  
"So, what do you really think of it?"  
  
Una put on her glasses and looked over the ad again.  
  
" _Maintaining a household_ ," she read aloud.  "I suppose you're going to bring a vacuum and ask them to hoover the carpet?  _Cooking skills a plus_.  Are you going to ask them to submit their signature dish for you to taste? I suppose you could take home a sample and feed it to Ben to gauge his reaction."   
  
Wanda made a face.  Una paused and held up her hand.   
  
"On second thought, any bird worthy of your Ben must be able to make a banoffee pie. That is his favorite, yes?"  
  
"You're making fun of me," sniffed Wanda with a toss of her head.  "Don't be cheeky."  
  
Una continued reading aloud.  
  
" _Good fashion sense_.  Now that actually might be helpful."  She paused and puckered her lips.  "You forgot to mention that he can be moody, temperamental and a touch neurotic."  
  
Wanda looked miffed.  
  
"Ben, moody?  Surely not!  He's a deep-thinker is all."  
  
"Wanda, I've known Ben since he was a toddler.  He can be moody."  
  
"Well, he's certainly not temperamental."  
  
Una giggled.  "What would you call it then?"  
  
Wanda thought for a moment.  
  
"He's very sensitive.  That's a good quality to have in a person."  
  
"Having a meltdown on a set isn't being sensitive.  Actually, it's more like a prima donna. I believe directors call that _temperamental_."  
  
"Birds would kill to have a man like him."  
  
Una laughed. "Or wind up killing him!"  
  
Wanda frowned at her.  
  
Una did her best to contain her laughter.  
  
"You can't sit there and tell me he isn't neurotic, Wanda."  
  
Wanda huffed and glared at Una.  
  
"Ben's not neurotic. Absolutely not."  
  
Una fixed her with a stare.  
  
"No?"  
  
"Not at all," insisted Wanda.  "He can just get a tad anxious or nervous or.."  
  
"Neurotic," finished Una.  
  
Wanda looked at Una.  She sighed.   
  
"I concede the point.  Maybe he is - just a bit."   
  
Una leaned over and gave Wanda a hug.  
  
"I'm sorry, love.  As a mother of a still-single son, I really do understand and sympathize with your frustration, but I think you're sailing into dangerous waters if you do this."   
  
"So I take it you're going to let me set sail alone?"  
  
Una sighed and rolled her eyes.  
  
"I should let you drown, Wanda; but I won't.  Are you sure I can’t persuade you to change your mind?”  
  
"Not at all," confirmed Wanda.  
  
The phone rang.  
  
"Right, then.  Let me have another look while you get that," said Una, moving into the chair that Wanda had vacated.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
 There was nothing but the sound of static.  
  
"Someone has a bad connection.  All I can hear is static," announced Wanda as she returned to the desk.  
  
"Let's see," said Una frowning, lips pursed.  "For one thing, it's too long."   
  
"Really?  I pared it down quite a bit as is," said Wanda.  
  
"If it's too long, no one will read it.  It has to be shorter and more to the point."  
  
"Oh," said Wanda.  "And I always thought Tim was the wordy one."  
  
"You both are," laughed Una.   
  
Wanda looked genuinely surprised.  
  
Una read the ad again and tapped the screen.  
  
"I like the beginning.  It captures your interest.  However, the description you have of Benedict is too lengthy.  It also makes him sound too good to be true..."  
  
"That's because he is," said Wanda smugly.  "Ben's going to make some bird very, very happy."  
  
"Spoken like a true mother," said Una as she ran a spell check.  "Just pick a couple of these adjectives to describe him. Then let him sell himself once you introduce them."  
  
"Nooo!!  I can't introduce them - it has to look like a chance meeting!" Wanda exclaimed.  "Benedict would never agree to meeting someone I found in a want ad."  
  
Una stared at her friend and shook her head slowly.  
  
"Oh, Wanda Cumberbatch, what a tangled web we weave."  
  
The phone rang again.  Wanda got up to answer it.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
" _Hi, Mum_ ," came Benedict's voice from the other end. The connection wasn't the best.  " _Can you hear me now_?"  
  
Wanda smiled.  
  
"Ben! So that was you before. I'm having some trouble hearing you.  Sounds like you're in a wind tunnel."  
  
 _"Close,"_ chuckled Benedict.  _"I'm in my tent.  It started pouring again, and the wind's picked up.  We had to wrap early."_  
  
"How's the filming going?"  
  
 _"Slowly.  There's been lots of rain here,"_ he replied.  _"It's so damp in this bloody tent," he complained.  "I hope I don't catch a cold."_  
  
"You can only catch a cold from a virus," Wanda pointed out.  
  
"Perhaps you should add 'nursing skills helpful'," remarked Una over her shoulder in a stage whisper.  "You know how he gets."  
  
Wanda covered the phone and spoke to Una.  
  
"Not a half-bad idea."  
  
"On second thought, it makes him sound either sickly or like a hypochondriac," said Una as she made some changes to the text.  
  
Wanda snickered.  
  
"Better not then."  
  
 _"Mum?  Are you there? Who are you talking to?"_  
  
"I'm right here, Dear.  Una came over for lunch, and we've just been chatting for ages."  
  
 _"Mum, can you ask Una if she's heard anything from Sue Vertue about the BBC picking up Sherlock?"_  
  
"Una, Ben asks if you've had any news about the Sherlock pilot."  
  
"Not a word," responded Una.  "These things can take time."  
  
"Nothing yet," said Wanda.   
  
 _"Mum, look, I really called to apologize for yesterday's outburst and for making the weekend miserable.  I've been really stressed out over everything lately.  I don't mean to take it out on you and Dad. I'm sure you know that, but it needs to be said.  I would love nothing more than to be a husband and father.  I look at you and Dad sometimes and think why can't I be that lucky? It'll happen sooner or later, so we're both just going to have to be patient.  Easier said than done, I know. I should be glad that you both care so much about my happiness,"_ said Benedict, his voice thick with emotion.  _"So, thank you for caring, okay?"_  
  
"Dad and I are here for you whenever you need us.  Just a phone call away," replied Wanda, twisting the phonecord.  She started to tear up.  
  
 _"I know,"_ he said. _"No matter what happens, I can always count on your love and support.  That means everything to me."_  
  
"I'm glad you called," said Wanda.  "I feel so much better now."  
  
There was a lot of static on the line.  
  
Benedict cleared his throat. _"So do I.  I'm losing the signal, Mum.  I'm having trouble hearing you now.  I'll call when I get back to the base house.  Give Una my love and tell her I plan to follow up with Sue Vertue as soon as I get back. Love you."_  
  
"Will do and love you, too," said Wanda, as the connection was lost. "Ben sends his love," she said to Una as she took a tissue to wipe away a few tears that had escaped from her eyes.  "He plans to contact Sue Vertue once he's back from filming."  
  
"He's a good man, Wanda," said Una with a smile.  "We'll find him someone."  
  
Wanda composed herself and went back to sit beside her.  She was now more determined than ever to take a chance on playing with fate.  
  
 "Now, what do you think I should take out?"  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Benedict put his mobile away, feeling substantially better about clearing the air with his parents.   He pulled the scratchy wool blanket closer around his shoulders.  They were filming on location, and the cast was roughing it.  There was barely enough room for him to stretch out in his tent.  The rain had started up sooner than expected, forcing everyone to seek shelter.   The wind threatened to push open the flap that served as the door to the tent.  Benedict crawled over and made sure the flap was secure.  Then he put on a knit cap, pulling it down over his ears.  He opened a peanut butter granola bar and munched on it, while sipping from a bottle of water to wash it down.  He was enjoying playing the role of cancer-stricken James, however; there was a part of Benedict who was longing for the filming to be over.  Then he could concentrate on moving into his new home.   
  
 _The first thing I'm doing is buying the biggest bed that will fit in the master suite.  I'll have to take measurements when I get back.  A king-sized bed would be lovely.  I'll finally have plenty of room, he thought._  
  
He decided to call his friends upon his return and ask for their help in making the necessary repairs and general clean up.  Benedict was sure it would take no more than a couple of weekends, as the flat wasn't all that big.  He knew his mates wouldn't refuse him, as he had helped each of them with improvements in their own homes.   
  
Benedict tossed the blanket aside and zipped himself into the flannel-lined sleeping bag. He closed his eyes for a moment and visualized himself lying in the large bed he planned to buy and smiled.  He would have a warm, down-filled duvet and several plump pillows.  The bed linens would be made of the softest cotton he could afford. Benedict considered splurging on a set of deliciously smooth satin sheets for when he invited a date to sleep over. The headboard would be padded; so he could sit up comfortably in bed and read. Satisfied with his plan, Benedict switched on the battery-operated lantern, picked up his script and began to study his lines for the next day.   
  
Suddenly his mother's voice popped into his head.  
  
 _"So now that you have this big bed, who are you going to share it with?"_  
  
 _Oh, fuck me,_ he thought and tossed the script to the ground.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"I do think we've got it this time!" said Una.  She sat back in her chair with a satisfied expression.  
  
Wanda read the ad aloud:

  
  
 ****

 **Daughter-in-law Wanted

**

  
  
**Are you tired of travelling life's journey alone?  Are you tired of fruitless searches to find the right man?  Are you ready to reap the rewards of a happy relationship?**  
  
 **If you have answered 'yes' to any of these questions, look no further.**  
  
 **Mother seeks mate for handsome 32-yr. old son, who is intelligent and kind-hearted. Hard working, yet fun-loving.  Harrow-educated, with University and Masters degrees.**  
  
 **Looking for an attractive, non-smoking female, 25-35, with a zest for life. The right candidate must be friendly and outgoing with a strong sense of family values.  University degree or higher required. Good listening and conversational skills essential. Good manners and sense of humor necessary. Interest in music, literature and the arts helpful. Competency at maintaining a household. Willingness to bear children. Cookery skills a plus.**  
  
 **You will have nothing to lose by contacting me.  What you may gain is the perfect partner to travel through life with!**  
  
 **Send resume and photo to WNDAVC@gmail.uk**  
  
  
  
"What do you think now, Admiral?" Una asked her friend.  
  
"It's perfect! Anchors aweigh!" said Wanda as she clicked on **POST AD**. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're going to make a time jump of a few weeks here. Third Star has completed filming, Benedict is doing Creation in this timeline and he's finally moving to his own flat.

Benedict Cumberbatch rolled over and smacked the off button on the alarm clock that sat on his bedside table. It was seven o'clock in the morning, and the last thing he wanted was to leave his warm bed.  He rolled onto his back, waiting for the grogginess to clear from his mind.  
  
 _Fuck, nightingale o'clock already!  Time to drag your arse out of bed, Benedict._  
  
He suddenly sat up and ruffled his once-again-auburn hair. There was a slight chill in the air that caused goose bumps to form on his bare forearms.  
  
 _Christ, I'm thinking in bird clock now. Wait - the bird clock's in the country.  I'm in Kensington. For fuck's sake! What's wrong with me?_  
  
Benedict flopped back down and adjusted the quilt around his upper body. He yawned and fought the urge to fall back asleep.  Benedict loved how cozy and snug he felt in the bed he had slept in since he was a child.  No matter how old he got, he always felt comfortable and secure in the Kensington flat. It was home.  
  
 _I remember when they used to talk about turning this room into an office. I wonder why they haven't yet?_  
  
Benedict snuggled deeper under the quilt and yawned again.  Sleep could overtake him so easily.  
  
 _How can they make this an office when I keep moving in and out?_  
  
Benedict gazed over at the clock and groaned loudly.  If left to his own devices, he would happily sleep until noon or better.  However, today he had a very good reason not to sleep in. Today he was moving into his new place.  Benedict could scarcely believe he finally owned the flat of his dreams.  He looked at the set of keys on his bedside table and reached over to touch them.  The feel of the cold metal pleased him.  
  
He smacked his forehead as the reason his parents had kept his room intact dawned on him.  
  
 _Oh, you're so, so stupid, Benedict.  Of course they aren't going to turn this room into an office.  They're keeping it like this so when you have kids, they can come for sleepovers. Fuckity fuck fuck!_  
  
Benedict lay still, listening.  The flat was quiet.  He could smell coffee and bacon.  Knowing his mother there would be a fry up waiting for him. He threw back the covers and got out of bed.  He padded over to the window in his sleep socks and touched the now cold radiator below it.  He shivered and hugged himself.  Benedict always felt cold regardless of the season.    
  
 _Once I'm in my own flat, I'll always be warm and toasty.  I'll crank up the heat as high as I want and light the fireplace whenever I feel a chill. What a treat that will be!_  
  
 Benedict raised the shade.  The day had dawned partly cloudy. He gazed up at the neighboring hotel windows.  He couldn't make out anything going on in the rooms during daylight hours.    
  
The three-bedroom flat Benedict's parents owned occupied the top floor of a four-story mews house that was in the shadow of the Royal Garden Hotel in Kensington.  As a child, Benedict had been fascinated with watching the hotel guests in whatever rooms he could see into at night.  His parents had liked that the house was a short walk to Hyde Park, the tube and shopping.  As a child, his mother had taken him to play in the park almost every day.  When Benedict got older, he and his parents would visit Kensington Palace and their gardens.  They often took afternoon tea at the Orangery, which was always a treat for him.  
  
Benedict hastily stripped the bed and put the bed linens in the bathroom hamper.  He showered and dressed in old jeans and a white, paint-splotched T-shirt.   He finished emptying his wardrobe into a cardboard box, leaving out a navy blue zippered hoodie in case he felt cold.  His old white canvas trainers were still under the bed.  He picked up the box and left the room.  
  
As he walked down the hallway towards the lounge, he could hear the sound of typing.  Instead of being in the kitchen, he found his mother sitting at the computer, pounding away at the keyboard.  The printer was busy spitting out paper.  In fact there appeared to be quite a few sheets already printed out.    
  
"Morning, Mum," said Benedict as he dropped the box on the floor near the foyer.  "You're awfully busy.  Is Dad gone already?"  He walked back towards the computer to see what was on the screen.    
  
Wanda had nearly jumped out of her chair upon hearing Benedict's voice.  She quickly minimized the window she was working in.  
  
"He left at half past six," she responded, frantically trying to stop the printer.  "He had a very early call."    
  
The printer spit out one last page and came to a halt. Benedict could not make out what she was printing from where he was standing.   He edged closer to the desk.  
  
 _Holy Christ!  What is he doing up? He never gets up this early on his day off.  Why start today?  I was counting on no interruptions until noon at least._  
  
"You're up early," she remarked as she hastily gathered the papers off the printer and shoved them in one of the desk drawers.    
  
Wanda made an effort to keep the irritation out of her voice.  "I would have thought you'd want to sleep late on your day off."  
  
"I'm meeting Adam in Hampstead.  I'm bringing the rest of my stuff over today.  Tonight I sleep in my own place!" Benedict announced excitedly as he leaned over his mother and kissed her on top of the head.  
  
"Well, this _is_ a big day for you, and I don't want to waste your time.  Off you go then!" Wanda said cheerily.  "Give my love to Adam."    
  
 _'Off you go then?'  No 'let me make you a nice fry-up, Benedict?'  No 'how soon can Dad and I visit your new flat, Benedict?'  That's not like her at all.  She knew I was moving in today. She's been dying to see it. Something's not right._

  
Benedict took out a lip balm from his pocket and ran it over his lips.  Then it dawned on him.  
   
 _Oh ho!  It's too early for this, Benedict. You're still half-asleep. She's looking to get rid of you.  There's something going on that she doesn't want you to see._  
  
He looked at the now blank computer screen.    
  
"What are you up to?  I could hear you typing all the way down the hall. You rarely touch the computer," Benedict said, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.    
  
Wanda swiveled around in the chair to face him.  She glanced nervously at the desk drawer to make sure that it was completely shut.  When she looked up, Benedict's gaze was focused on the drawer.  
  
 _He's always been so nosey. Ever since he was small.  Always minding everyone else's business, bless him._  
  
"Just catching up on my email," she said as nonchalantly as possible as she pushed the sleeves of her jumper up over her elbows.  
  
 _Benedict licked his lips and smiled at her indulgently._  
  
"Hmmm. I think you don't want me to see what you're doing, Mum," he said teasingly.  "That's how I used to react whenever you or Dad came across me doing something I didn't want you to see."  
  
"Oh, for God's sake, Benedict, don't be silly!  I have nothing to hide."  
  
 _Actually I have quite a bit to hide.  I need to distract him, she thought._  
  
"I thought you were meeting Adam?"  
  
"I am, but not until half past blackbird, as we say in bird clock," he said with a laugh.  
  
Wanda wanted to bang her head on the desk.  
  
 _Why?  Why does he always get chattiest when he's not supposed to!?_  
  
"You're not looking at pictures of naked men again, are you?" asked Benedict playfully.  
  
His smile widened as he leaned over to select a silver foil-wrapped Baci from the candy dish on the desk.  He carefully unwrapped it.  
  
"I promise not to tell Dad.  Cross my heart."    
  
He made an X over his chest and popped the dark chocolate-covered hazelnut confection into his mouth. "Mmmm."  
  
Wanda got up and smacked him lightly on the arm.  
  
"Oh, for fuck's sake!  You've a memory like an elephant.  There was nothing unwholesome about it.  I was just reading an article on the Olympic men's swim team that time - they weren't naked! They were wearing Speedos."  
  
Benedict chewed thoughtfully and swallowed.  He smiled even wider so his dimples became visible.  He raised an eyebrow at her.  
  
"Oh, I'm not so sure about that, Mother.  I don't recall seeing swimsuits. I definitely recall seeing willies."  
  
 _You've got to nip this in the bud now, Wanda, she thought._  
  
"And I know willies when I see them."  
  
"Well, since you're hell bent on taking a trip down memory lane, why is it that whenever we're in the country I find my barn owl collection all facing the wall?"  
  
Benedict tried to suppress a laugh.  He sucked in his cheeks as he looked down at his feet.  
  
 _Oh, she's good.  She misses nothing.  Can't put anything over on her._  
  
 "Haven't a clue.  Must be the cleaning woman."  
  
"I don't have a cleaning woman."  
  
Benedict and Wanda looked at each other. Both were trying hard not to laugh.  
  
"Stalemate?" Benedict offered with a grin.  
  
"Agreed," said Wanda, smiling up at him.  
  
Benedict noted she turned to make sure the screen saver was on.  Then she picked up her empty coffee mug and started to walk towards the kitchen.  
  
 _She really doesn't want me to know what she's doing. This is going to kill me!_  
  
"So, what are you really doing on the computer?" Benedict persisted.  
  
Wanda stopped and turned around.  He was looking at her with a smirk.  
  
 _Bloody hell!  He should have been a barrister, thought Wanda._  
  
"If you must know, I'm thinking of writing my memoirs.  Satisfied?"  
  
Benedict regarded her with a bemused expression.  
  
"Not entirely.  This is news to me.  How long has this been in the works?"  
  
 _No criminal would survive his cross-examination._  
  
"We're only in the discussion stage right now."  
  
"What does Dad think?"  
  
"He doesn't know.  I want to wait and see what happens.  If it comes to fruition, then I'll tell him.  I thought it would make a nice surprise."  
  
Benedict indicated the desk drawer with his chin.    
  
"Are those notes on the book that you put away?  If so, I'd love to read them."  
  
 _I need to get the Hound of Baskerville off the trail._  
  
"Nope.  Just some new recipes that I want to try. That's enough for one day, Barrister Ben," she said dismissively.  "Sorry to disappoint you, but I've nothing scandalous to hide.  Now come and have some breakfast before you leave.  I'll make you a fry-up."  
  
Benedict chuckled at the mention of 'Barrister Ben'.  It was a childhood nickname his parents had bestowed upon him whenever he asked too many questions.  
  
"Okay.  Time to hang up my wig," said Benedict with a laugh as he followed her into the kitchen.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Half an hour later, Benedict was on his way to the tube station.  Wanda cleaned up the kitchen and went back to the desk.  She would now have the remainder of the day to herself in peace and quiet.  Wanda set down her mug of chocolate mint tea and opened the desk drawer.  She removed all the resumes and photos she had printed out.  It took her several minutes to put them back in order.  Once that was done, she opened the window on the computer and started to read the last of the emails she had received:

  
  
 **Dear Future Mother-in-law:**  
  
 **Today is you and your son's lucky day.  I am a perfect woman who possesses psychic powers. My mother has consulted my star chart and it shows that I meet all of your requirements.**  
  
 **However, before I make a commitment I need to know your son's birth date and time of birth so my mother can consult his star chart to see if we are compatible.  Please be aware that she may also wish to do charts and palm readings on the whole family as well.**

  
  
Wanda took a sip of the tea and shook her head.  
  
 _And I don't have to consult the star charts to tell me that this is not your lucky day,_ thought Wanda as she hit the delete key. _Blimey! This isn't as easy as I thought it would be._  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Adam Ackland stood in the doorway of Benedict's bedroom, holding the last of the cardboard boxes.  
  
"Where do you want this one?" Adam asked Benedict, who was busy heaping the contents of a box into his dresser drawers. He gestured that Adam should place the box on the side of his bed that was next to the wardrobe.  
  
"There's fine. It's just clothing.  This way I can unpack it right into the wardrobe."  
  
"I'd take a good look before I did that. Most of these are wrinkled," Adam said, looking inside the box.  "Don't you believe in folding anything?"  
  
Benedict walked over and peered at the pile of clothes that lay helter-skelter in the box.  He rummaged through them and shrugged.  
  
"No.  They should be fine. The wrinkles will come out once I hang them up."  
  
"Not always," commented Adam.    
  
Adam watched as Benedict returned to stuffing his underwear into the dresser drawers.    
  
"Motherfucker!  I can't fit everything in!  Nothing's changed!  I still have the same amount of clothes and drawer space.  What the fuck is wrong?"  
  
Benedict slammed the drawer shut and looked in dismay at the T-shirts that he couldn't fit in.  His impatience was getting the best of him. He pinched the bridge of his nose between his index finger and thumb.  
  
"Where in the fucking hell am I going to put all this, Adam?"    
  
"You know, Ben, if you took the time to fold things properly, you'd be able to fit everything in with no problem. Stop ranting and look."  Adam walked over and folded the remaining T-shirts flat and placed them in a drawer.    
  
"See, you can fit in twice as much. Shouldn't be a problem now."  
  
Benedict sighed as he tugged the drawer, which was now stuck from his forcing it closed.  
  
"You're going to break the bloody drawer pulls," said Adam.  
  
"I need something to try and wedge it open so I can stick my hand in," grunted Benedict as he felt himself breaking into a sweat.  
  
"Bugger off, Ben. Your hand's too large. Hand me the screwdriver and let me have a go at it."    
  
It took Adam less than a minute to open the drawer.    
  
"There! Christ, you Harrow boys are useless."  
  
"You can be such a knob.  I hate it when you're right."  
  
Adam laughed.    
  
"Your problem is you're always rushing about.  You need to slow down and take your time is all."  
  
"For fuck's sake, you sound like my mum."  
  
"Speaking of your mum, Alice and I ran into her the other day in Harrods' food hall," said Adam as he folded up the empty boxes to bin.  "She was asking me all about NDAs.  I told her Dennis is the one she needs to be asking 'cos he's a solicitor. What does she need an NDA for?"  
  
"NDAs?" repeated Benedict with a frown.  "Non-Disclosure Agreements?"  
  
 _Oh, it must have something to do with the secret book deal.  Watch what you say, Benedict._  
  
"She's thinking of writing her memoirs."  
  
 _Shit.  Your mouth filter isn't working well today._  
  
"Ah, that makes perfect sense.  Well done, her!"  
  
"At least she didn't ask if you had a bird for me," Benedict laughed.  
  
"No, she asked my wife," Adam said with a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea how or where Benedict and Adam Ackland met, so for the purposes of this story, they are childhood friends and grew up together. There isn't much information on Adam in articles etc.; so his personality etc is how I imagine him to be.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting a bit earlier than usual this week, as I was so excited to share this chapter. I had such a good time writing it. This chapter was never meant to be. It just wrote itself. There is a lot of flirting between Benedict’s parents. I recently heard the song they dance to, and it reminded me of how I imagine they feel about each other.

Wanda Ventham opened the oven door and placed the casserole dish of macaroni cheese on the center rack to bake.  She closed the door and set the timer for 45 minutes.  There was a crisp green salad chilling in the fridge that needed to be dressed with the balsamic vinaigrette she had prepared earlier.  Wanda quickly lay the dining room table and went back into the kitchen to retrieve two wine goblets.  She came back out and placed them on the table. Hopefully, Timothy would remember to bring home a bottle of red wine.   
  
The wine was part of Wanda's plan to make sure Timothy fell asleep early, so she could continue with her work.  Three glasses and he’d be dozing off in no time. She had spent most of the day in a studio doing a voiceover for a cosmetic commercial. This had caused her to fall behind on her quest for a suitable daughter-in-law. Wanda checked the clock again.  
  
 _He won’t be home for an hour.  That will give me time to pick out the best candidates. Perhaps a little music would be nice while I work,_ she thought.  
  
Wanda put on her favorite Frank Sinatra CD in the background as she returned to her work at the computer.  Frank was singing ‘The Lady is a Tramp’. Wanda hummed along with him.  
  
The ad Wanda had placed on Craigslist had gotten her a handful of responses. She found them equally split between obvious pranks and those who simply weren't qualified. Wanda had been profoundly disappointed and considered re-writing the ad.  Then she recalled that the same thing had happened when she tried to sell an old armoire online. The problem was Wanda had chosen the wrong days to run her ad.  The ad had run when readership was at its lowest.  Wanda decided to run it again when readership was at its peak.  This time the responses had been much better - quantity and quality-wise.  It had taken Wanda the better part of a week to pare down the responses to eight potential mates for Benedict.  She was feeling very encouraged and congratulated herself on how well things were now going.  
  
Unfortunately, Wanda did not hear Timothy unlock the door to the flat over the music.   
  
"Hello there!" he called out, putting his keys on the entrance hall table along with the bottle of wine his wife had asked for.  
  
Silence except for Frank Sinatra loudly singing that he was in the mood for love.  
  
"Did you finish the commercial?" Timothy asked as he removed his coat and hung it in the hall wardrobe.  "I smell macaroni cheese.  It must be Friday night then,” he joked.  Wanda made either macaroni cheese or fish and chips on Friday nights. There were no variances.   
  
Wanda didn't acknowledge that she had heard him.  She was busy making notes on some papers that she had spread out before her on the desk.  
  
 _That explains it.  She doesn’t know I’m home.  She can't hear me over the music,_ Timothy thought.   
  
"Wanda?" Timothy raised his voice slightly as he placed the wine bottle on the dining room table.  He noted the table had been laid with their best china, silver and crystal glassware.  There were candles waiting to be lit and a vase filled with a mixed bouquet of fresh flowers.  
  
 _Romance is in the air tonight,_ he thought happily.  _It’s too early to celebrate our anniversary though – that’s nearer the end of the month.  There’s nothing like a little romantic dinner to nourish a marriage._  
  
“Wanda?” he tried again.  
  
Wanda kept up with her writing, singing along softly with Frank Sinatra.  Timothy watched her and smiled.  No matter what her age, he still found her as beautiful as the day they had met.  He loved that she could be sweet and loving one minute, then sassy and feisty the next.  Wanda had truly kept him on his toes all these years, and Timothy had thoroughly enjoyed every minute.  He found her as sexy as ever.   
  
Timothy caught himself smiling like a newly smitten lover. His wife still had the power to melt him with one glance.  
  
“You still bewitch me, my love,” he said mostly to himself.   
  
 _And now, Frank, I need you to sing softer,_ thought Timothy as he went to the CD player and adjusted the volume control.  
  
The song finished as Timothy approached the desk.  Wanda felt a presence behind her and looked up to find her husband smiling at her, his eyes twinkling.  Her face flushed and she looked panicked.  
  
"Tim.  Wh- wh- what are you doing here?" she stammered.  
  
Timothy looked puzzled.  He leaned down and cupped her chin to kiss her.  
  
"For starters, I happen to live here."  
  
Wanda checked her watch.  
  
"You're much earlier than expected," she said, trying to cover the papers with her arm.  
  
Timothy looked at her quizzically.   
  
“Expecting another man are we?” he teased.  
  
Wanda appeared flustered.  Her face flushed bright red.  
  
 _If I didn’t know better, I’d think she was annoyed that I’m home,_ he thought.  
  
“I thought I’d have until at least six to get dinner ready.  I-I wanted to make things a bit special.  You usually call me when you’re going to be earlier.”  
  
"I finished my scenes for the day. I thought I’d surprise you this time. Shall I go out and have a walk around then?"  
  
"Oh, don't be so silly," she said with a short, nervous laugh, as she quickly put the papers in a folder and shoved it in the desk drawer.  “Let’s enjoy our evening.”   
  
Wanda quickly composed herself.  She rose from the chair and led Timothy by the hand towards the center of the lounge.  Frank Sinatra had started to sing "It Had to be You".  
  
 **It had to be you, it had to be you**  
 **I've wandered around, finally found somebody who**  
 **Could make me be true**  
 **Could make me be blue**  
 **And, even be glad just to be sad thinkin' of you**  
  
She smiled flirtatiously at Timothy as she stroked his cheek.  
  
"I believe Frank is singing our song," she said.  "Dance with me, love?"  
  
Timothy smiled and took her in his arms.  
  
"How can I refuse such an invitation from the most fetching woman in the room?"  
  
 **Some others I've seen**  
 **Might never be mean**  
 **Might never be cross**  
 **Or, try to be boss**  
 **But, they wouldn't do**  
  
Wanda laughed and looked up at him. Her husband still had his good looks. If anything, she thought he looked even more handsome with his full head of silver hair.  She loved how his eyes always sparkled when he looked at her.  Of all the men Wanda had known, Timothy was the one who loved her and indulged her no matter what.  He had proven to be her perfect match. Wanda had been hesitant to begin a serious relationship with him after one failed marriage, but he had convinced her to give love another try.  While her first marriage had been hell, this one was heaven.  
  
 _And to think I resisted marrying him,_ she thought.  _What a fool I was to put him off so long._  
  
 **For nobody else gave me a thrill**  
 **With all your faults, I love you still**  
 **It had to be you, wonderful you**  
 **It had to be you**  
  
Timothy kissed the top of her head as they danced.  He knew he wasn’t perfect and neither was she; but they were very well suited to each other.  They made each other laugh and supported each other through good times and bad.  Of course there were rows along the way, but the issues were always resolved amicably. Most importantly, they always saw eye-to-eye on the things that truly mattered. It had taken him a few years to convince her to marry him. They had been together for seven years and had been trying to have a child.  When Wanda became pregnant, Timothy had pushed for marriage. It had taken awhile, but she finally gave in.  He had thought his heart would burst with happiness the day they were married.  However, that was nothing compared to the joy he had felt when Benedict was born three months later.   
  
 **'Cause nobody else gave me a thrill**  
 **With all your faults, I love you still now**  
 **And it had to be you, it just had to be you**  
 **It had to be you**  
  
Frank Sinatra had stopped singing.   
  
The couple ceased dancing and gazed into each other's eyes, still wrapped in an embrace.  
  
“Now what, handsome?” Wanda asked him in a low, sultry voice.  
  
She saw him studying her.  Wanda knew that look very well.  
  
Timothy pursed his lips and pretended to think.    
  
“I’d rather fancy a shag before dinner, if you’re up to it.”  
  
Wanda continued to lean against him and smiled up at him, tracing his lips with her finger.  
  
“I do believe you are already up to it.”  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Wanda tied the belt of her black and pink-flowered, floor-length silk kimono around her waist and regarded her husband, who sat up in their bed, leaning against the pillows with his eyes closed.  
  
"How's your back?" she asked with concern.  
  
Timothy sighed and opened his eyes.  Wanda caught a flicker of pain in them.  
  
"Sad to say, but I think we'd better retire that position," he said.  
  
"Such a shame!  You rose so admirably to the occasion!" she said with a mock pout.  "I'll get you some Paracetamol.  Be right back."  
  
"I'm thinking of something stronger, but I'll have to take it with food."  
  
Wanda suddenly tapped her forehead with the palm of her hand.  
  
"Shit!  I forgot that I had macaroni cheese in the oven."  
  
Timothy smiled lazily.  
  
"I'm sure it's still fine."  
  
"I have an idea!  Let's have a picnic dinner right here.  I'll get the food, and we can pop in a DVD and relax."  
  
"That sounds perfect."  He gestured to her to come to his side of the bed.  "Now, come and give me a hand."  
  
"Oh, you naughty, naughty man!"  She laughed.  "I thought your back hurt."  
  
Timothy took the sheet off and swung his legs over the edge of the bed.  
  
"It does hurt.  I meant can you help me get up."  
  
"Oh, but I did...not more than an hour ago."  
  
Timothy couldn't help but laugh.  He winced and held his back.  
  
"Stop with the double entendre, woman!  It hurts when I laugh."  He paused to look at her.  She looked much younger than her years in the soft glow of the lamplight.  "How I do love you, Wanda.  You make me feel like I'm 30 again."  
  
Wanda blushed slightly and smiled as she got his robe from the wardrobe and went to his side of the bed.  
  
"And you are still as lusty and vigorous as a 30 year old, bless you."  
  
Timothy laughed painfully as she helped him off the bed and into his robe.  
  
"I will graciously accept that compliment even though we both know better.  Let's go see what's become of your famous macaroni cheese."  
  
  
  
   
  
Several minutes later, Wanda and Timothy stood at the kitchen counter, looking down at the casserole dish.  
  
"We certainly can't eat this.  It's all dried out," said Wanda turning up her nose in disgust.  
  
"I'm sure it's fine," countered Timothy.  "Maybe if you just stir it up from the bottom or add some cream to it."  
  
Wanda sunk a serving spoon into it.  It was like a brick. She was having trouble moving it around.  
  
"Well, it's not fine this time. I'd say it's a lost cause.  There isn't a drop of sauce left. No amount of cream can revive this. The bottom's burnt to a crisp."  
  
"I'll call the Indian takeaway.  Fancy a curry?" asked Timothy.  
  
"Chicken, please," said Wanda.  "How's your back?"  
  
"Starting to feel better," he replied. "Standing seems to help. It must have just been a back spasm."  
  
"Jolly good then! I'll break open the wine," said Wanda taking down two wineglasses.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
The cab ride to Kensington had taken an eternity in Friday night traffic. Normally, Benedict would have taken the tube but there had been delays system-wide.  He got off the lift and unlocked the door to his parents flat.  He had a bottle of champagne and was, as he was fond of saying, 'totally over the moon'.   
  
 _Hope they haven't had dinner yet. I should have called, but I want to surprise them,_ he thought.  
  
"Mum!  Dad! I've got great news!" he shouted as he closed the door behind him.   
  
Silence.  
  
 _Motherfucker!  I hope they didn't go out._  
  
He shrugged off his jacket and sniffed the air.  
  
 _Macaroni cheese.  Well, of course, Benedict.  It's Friday night._  
  
Benedict walked into the lounge and saw that the table was laid for dinner.  
  
 _Splendid! They haven't eaten yet._  
  
Then he took a closer look at how the table had been laid.  
  
 _Table's laid rather fancy for Friday night dinner.  Fuck!  Did I forget their anniversary?  No.  A bit too early yet.  Guess Mum felt like fussing._  
  
He started for the kitchen.  He could hear his parents' laughter from within.  Benedict found them barefoot and clad in their robes.  Their hair was messed up, as if they had just gotten out of bed.  They were standing at the kitchen counter drinking wine and taking turns feeding each other roasted red pepper humus on sesame crackers.  Timothy had just finished licking a bit of humus from Wanda's finger.   
  
Timothy and Wanda looked up at their son.  Benedict noted that they looked like two kids who had been caught with their hands in the biscuit jar.  
  
 _Jesus!  What did I walk in on?  Oh, Benedict, they weren't expecting to see you. Shit._  
  
His mother quickly checked that her kimono was tied securely and giggled.  
  
"Oh, helloooo, Ben!  Would you like some wine and hum...us?"  
  
 _She's tipsy.  Holy shit._  
  
Timothy glanced at Wanda and stifled a giggle of his own.  
  
 _Him, too?  Maybe I should just leave?  No, pretend you didn't notice anything out of the ordinary, Benedict.  Be cool._  
  
"Hi Mum, Dad!" he smiled at them and placed the champagne in the fridge to chill.  "I hope I didn't interrupt anything."   
  
He anxiously looked from one parent to the other, suddenly regretting his choice of words.   
  
Timothy had taken a sip of the wine.  He snorted into his glass, looked at his wife and patted her shoulder.   
  
"Is he interrupting anything, darling?  I don't think so.  I do believe we were done."  
  
Wanda poked his arm.  Benedict could see she was trying to hold back a laugh.  She cleared her throat and adjusted the long sleeves of her kimono.  
  
"Yes, yes.  Quite done.  As done as we're going to be." She looked meaningfully at her husband.  
  
"But not as done as your macaroni cheese," hooted Timothy.  
  
They both held onto each other as they laughed.  
  
 _Christ, they're off their faces.  What the fuck?_ thought Benedict.  
  
"No," replied Timothy, catching his breath.  He paused to collect his thoughts.  "We were just having a little post...  
  
"...exercise snack," finished Wanda, still giggling.  
  
Benedict noticed his mother's makeup looked at bit smeared and his father's lips had traces of her lipstick.  
  
 _Oh, Benedict, you fucking dim-witted dolt.  I get it now, and I think I need a drink._  
  
Benedict helped himself to the remainder of the wine and surveyed the situation.  He needed to get some food into them.  He rubbed the back of his neck.  
  
"I take it you haven't had dinner yet?"  
  
Wanda and Timothy finally stopped laughing and looked at each other.  
  
"Your father called in a curry, but they are taking forever to come," said Wanda looking at the clock.  "Others have come quicker here tonight, but I can't say the same for the curry." She clapped her hand over her mouth in mock horror and then winked at his father.  
  
Benedict noticed his father had a very relaxed look about him.  
  
 _Good fucking God,_ thought Benedict as he drained his wineglass in one gulp.  _This will teach me to call first whenever I want to visit._  
  
Timothy put down his wineglass and scratched his head.  
  
"Now that you mention it, I don't think I called it in."  
  
"Not a tragedy.  Let me ring them up.  Ben, do you fancy staying for a curry?" asked Wanda as she went to the phone.  
  
"Mum, wait!  I'd like to treat you and dad to dinner tonight."  
  
Wanda stopped and looked at Benedict.  His ice blue eyes were shining with excitement she hadn't noticed before. He could barely stand still.  
  
"Did I see you put a bottle of champagne in the fridge?"  
  
Benedict took a deep breath and smiled.  He rubbed his left shoe against the back of his right calf.  
  
"Yes, I sure did.  We have something to celebrate."  
  
Timothy and Wanda exchanged glances.  They suddenly didn't seem as drunk as he had thought.  
  
"Care to share it with us?" Timothy asked with a raised eyebrow.  
  
"Yes, but first I need you both to get dressed.  I made us a dinner reservation at Bumpkin.  If you hurry we'll just be able to make it," said Benedict as he rubbed his hands together.  "I'll tell you all about it when we get there."   
  
"How about a hint?" asked Wanda, folding her arms.  
  
 _Jesus, not now!_ thought Benedict.  
  
"Nope. I'll tell you once we're settled at the table."  
  
"You've had a offer on that movie...who was the director again?" asked Timothy rubbing his back.  "My mind's a bit fuzzy from the wine."  
  
"We're going to be late," said Benedict, tapping his watch impatiently.  
  
His parents exchanged looks and burst out laughing.  
  
"Look who's suddenly concerned about being late," said Timothy.  
  
"Ben, you'll be late to your own wedding when the time comes!" added Wanda.  
  
"Guys, please?"   
  
Benedict shifted his weight from one foot to the other.  
  
Wanda rolled her eyes.    
  
"Benedict, please stop being so bloody mysterious!  Just tell us what it is!" she demanded.  "You know I hate surprises."  
  
Benedict gave in and smiled proudly at his parents.  
  
"I spoke with my agent this afternoon.  The BBC loved the pilot.  As a matter of fact, they have commissioned three 90-minute episodes.  You're looking at the new Sherlock Holmes!"  
  
"Benedict, this is wonderful news!" exclaimed Wanda clapping her hands together. "We're so proud of you.  You'll be the best Sherlock Holmes yet."  
  
Wanda and Timothy surrounded him in a hug.  
  
"Congratulations, son!" said Timothy, clapping Benedict on the back.  "I have a feeling this show is going to change your life."  
  
"I'll certainly be busier than ever, but it's all good," said Benedict.  "I'm so ready for this!"  
  
Wanda Ventham wiped tears of happiness from her eyes as she hugged her son close and kissed his cheeks.  
  
 _Time to interview those birds, Wanda. Before they fly away._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt my darlings deserved a playful, romantic interlude. Hope you enjoyed it.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Several days have passed. Benedict suffers from a mouth filter malfunction.

 

Benedict Cumberbatch stood at the breakfast bar in his kitchen, pouring coffee into a ceramic mug.  He added two cubes of demerara sugar and a bit of cream before carefully stirring it.  It was seven o'clock in the morning, and sunlight filled his kitchen and lounge area.  Benedict blew on the coffee's surface to cool it a little before taking that first welcome sip.  
  
"You didn't have to get up, Benny.  I could've let myself out," said his date of the night before.  "I just want to make sure I get to the office extra early for that meeting I was telling you about last night."   
  
Benedict paused mid-sip to look at her.  
  
 _Benny?  She called me that last night in bed.  I hate that nickname._  
  
"It's all fine, Beth.  I wanted to make you breakfast," he said with as much cordiality as he could muster at that hour of the morning.   
  
He placed four slices of white bread in the toaster.   
  
"Don't you have wheat bread?" she asked with a frown.  
  
 _Do I detect a note of disapproval here?_  
  
"No.  I haven't had time to do any food shopping this week," he replied. "I've been working almost every day until late."  
  
 "White bread is nothing but empty calories."  
  
 _Then don't eat it, he thought, feeling slightly irritated from the night before._  
  
She took a sip of coffee and grimaced.  
  
"Do you always make espresso in the morning?"  
  
Benedict turned and frowned at her.  
  
"It's not.  It's just regular coffee," he said.   
  
 _Why does everyone ask me that?_  
  
Beth looked down at her cup.   
  
"You could have fooled me. Don't be offended, but this is bloody awful!"  
  
"No offense taken.  Fancy tea instead?"  
  
 _Patience is a virtue, Benedict.  Make the damn tea and turn on your mouth filter._  
  
"Please," she said pushing the mug away in disgust.  "As long as it's decaf," she added as she tapped her long manicured nails on the counter.  
  
Benedict looked at her nails and winced.  His back was sore from where she had scratched him the night before.  He made a mental note to put more antiseptic ointment where she had drawn blood.  
  
"Sorry, no decaf, I'm afraid," replied Benedict switching the electric kettle on.  
  
"Water will be fine. Bottled, not tap - if you have that, of course. The water is so polluted in London I don't even like to wash in it."  
  
 _I wonder what she washes in?  Oh, that's right.  She has filters on all the faucets. Just shut up and drink your coffee, Benedict.  Don't answer her even though you want to._  
  
"You just used my shower," he pointed out.  
  
 _And didn't bother to clean it, he thought._  
  
Beth laughed nervously and looked down at her nails.  They were dark maroon.   
  
"I had to make an exception.  I certainly didn't want to go around smelling like sour...well, you know what I mean."  
  
 _Yes, I know exactly what you mean, thought Benedict grumpily._  
  
The sound of her nail tapping filled the air.   
  
 _I should have suggested we do each other's nails before we got started last night.  I would have cut them down to the quick. Then she would have thought I had a weird nail fetish._  
  
Beth got off the high stool and walked over to the back window in the lounge that overlooked the Heath and London's skyline.  
  
"I so envy your view, Benny.  I have a shit view of an alley in Notting Hill."  
  
"It's not that bad," Benedict said as he started to butter the toast.   
  
"No butter for me.  It has too much saturated fat."  
  
 _Jesus.  How can she eat like that?  She did the same thing at The Ivy last night.  No butter, no dressing, no salt, no sauce, no sugar, no cream, no liquor and no pudding._  
  
Benedict cut the dry toast in half and put it on a plate for her.  He spread his already buttered toast with orange marmalade.   
  
The kettle whistled.  
  
"Kettle's boiled.  Are you sure you don't fancy some tea?"  
  
"Okay.  I would hate for the water to go to waste."  
  
 _Yes, heaven forbid we should waste the polluted water.  She probably deems it safe because it's been boiled._  
  
Benedict stifled a sigh and poured the water over a tea bag.  He dunked it a few times. He looked at the box the tea had come in.  
  
"It's organic tea," he said helpfully.  
  
She turned around to look at him.  He was removing the tea bag from a mug.   
  
"Don't you use loose tea?"  
  
"Not when I'm in a hurry."  
  
"I also use honey in my tea.  You do have honey don't you, Benny?"  
  
Benedict opened a cupboard and pulled out a jar of honey.  He saw immediately that there was only a crystallized coating on the bottom of it.  
  
"So sorry, but I'm afraid I've run out," he said holding up the empty jar for her to see.  
  
"Oh, silly Benny!  Putting away empty jars in your cupboard," she giggled.  "You can be such a clot!"    
  
Benedict set the plates down on the breakfast bar with a bang, causing Beth to jump.  
  
"I have white and demerara sugar."  The words came out harsher than he had intended.  
  
She looked at him with raised eyebrows.  
  
"Demerara sugar is only partially refined," added Benedict. "It has a nice caramel note."  
  
She clucked her tongue and shook her head disapprovingly.  
  
"I'll drink it black," she said crossing the room to take her seat on the stool.  
  
Benedict remained standing behind the counter opposite her.  He suddenly had the desire to distance himself.  
  
 _If she wants to drink it black, let her._  
  
"A little sugar isn't going to hurt you, Beth," he said, pushing the sugar bowl across the countertop towards her.  
  
Beth studied the small cubes of white and brown sugar in the bowl and pushed it back towards him.  
  
"Benny.  Dear heart. You know I'm trying to eat healthy," she said with feigned patience as she patted his hand. "You could learn something by watching how I eat."  
  
 _Yes, I'm learning the way not to eat._  
  
"I need to you to start paying more attention to what you put into your body.  I work very hard at living as healthy as possible."  
  
 _It seems to be a full-time job. How miserable._  
  
"You do want a healthy girlfriend, don't you?" she asked as she took a bite of the toast.  
  
Benedict almost choked on his toast.  
  
 _Three fucking dates and you're my girlfriend?_  
  
"You do want that, don't you?"  
  
 _I don't think I care,_ he thought as he sipped his coffee and stared out at the Heath.  
  
"Benny?  Did you hear what I just said?"  
  
Benedict focused his attention on her and frowned.  
  
"Please don't call me Benny," he said testily.  
  
Beth pouted and leaned across the counter to tousle his hair.  Her long nails caught in his sleep-mussed curls, causing him pain. She saw him wince and quickly pulled back.   
  
"Why not?  I think it sounds cute.  Benedict is such a mouthful -- and so old-fashioned."  
  
"I prefer Benedict," he said with irritation as he rubbed his sore scalp.   
  
Beth rolled her eyes at him.  
  
"If you insist, Benedict."  
  
"Marmalade?" He offered her the jam jar.   
  
Benedict noticed that she looked at it longingly.  He knew she was tempted.  Then she shook her head.  
  
"Commercial jams have too much sugar and preservatives."  
  
 _Let it go Benedict.  Don't answer her._  
  
Benedict turned the jar around in his large, slender hands and read the ingredients to her.  
  
"First ingredient is oranges.  Fruit is healthy, no?  Let's see: water, sugar, and pectin.  Nothing bad that I can see."  
  
"I distinctly heard you say sugar," she said.  "Also, I heard pectin."  
  
Benedict could feel his irritation building.  
  
 _Why do you feel the need to open your mouth?  Just mind your tongue and eat your bloody toast._  
  
"You need sugar to make it sweet and pectin thickens it. Pectin is perfectly fine."  
  
She sipped her tea and smiled at him indulgently while she absently tapped her nails on the counter.  
  
"Oh, my silly-dilly Benny."  
  
 _That's fucking **it**!_  
  
"Benedict.  Please."  
  
"Benedict.  How you love your sugar!  Sugar is so bad for you, Benny."  
  
 _I really need to stop talking to her. I need to just shut up and get this meal over with and her out of here._  
  
Alas, Benedict found that despite his best efforts Beth had pushed him over the edge.  What little was left of his mouth filter was quickly forgotten.   
  
"Beth, first of all, please stop tapping your nails. _Tap tap tap_ all the fucking time!  It's driving me crazy.  You should cut them back a bit. Did you realise that when you scratched my back last night, you drew blood?  I've got your bloody nail marks on my back! And I don't even want to get into the biting. Secondly, please stop calling me Benny.  I told you I detest that nickname. No one calls me that!  And you need to stop depriving yourself of food.  Eating is one of life's pleasures.  I don't think you're getting much pleasure from eating the way you do."  
  
Beth looked miffed.  
  
"It's better than your smoking, Benny.  When are you going to stop for me?"  
  
Benedict pursed his lips and looked at her with narrowed eyes. She had really hit a nerve this time.  
  
"I'm not. I enjoy smoking sometimes. I'm not a heavy smoker," he said in a low growl.  "Is there anything else I do that pleases you, _darling_?" he added sarcastically as he wiped his lips on the paper napkin and crumpled it.  
  
 _Why the fuck am I justifying my smoking to her?_  
  
Beth took a bite of the toast and chewed.  She suddenly sensed she had pushed the envelope.  
  
"Oh, don't be so grumpy, Benny!  Your toast is better than your coffee," she laughed, trying to lighten things up.  She quickly ate the rest of the slice of toast and drank her tea.  "Well, I hate to eat and run, but.."  
  
 _Thank God, Benedict thought as he played with the crumpled napkin._  
  
"Oh, think nothing of it," he said as pleasantly as possible. "Let me just throw some clothes on and I'll give you a ride to the tube."  
  
"As long as it isn't on your motorbike.  I hate motorbikes.  They're so dangerous. You could get killed! We really need to sell it, Benny. Maybe we can put an ad in the Guardian and get rid of it quickly.  Then we can go on holiday to Capri with the money."  
  
Benedict stared at her.  
  
 _You will go before my bike does,_ he thought.  
  
"I can take my car.  It's not a problem."  
  
"Oh, you don't have to, Benny -- I mean Benedict."  
  
 _Benedict!  How fucking hard is that?_  
  
"I'll walk - it's not far and I can use the exercise."  
  
Benedict walked Beth to the front door and opened it for her. He kissed her lightly on the lips.  
  
"Good luck today.  I'll call you soon," he said rubbing the back of his neck, trying to ease the start of a stress headache. "Cheers then."  
  
Beth looked up into his beautiful ice blue eyes.  She knew deep down that this was the last time that she would see him.  She reached out and stroked his cheek. He noticed her grimace at the feel of his morning stubble.  
  
 _I guess I should have shaved.  Shame on me._  
  
"It's okay, Benny -- Benedict.  I know you have no intention of calling me.  I can sense when a relationship is going to work and when it isn't.  We aren't meant to be.  I want to eat to live and you want to live to eat. Your lifestyle is very harmful. I don't want to be tied down caring for a sick husband when we get old. Cheers."  
  
With that she turned and went down the steps and disappeared down the street.  She didn't look back.  
  
  
  
  
Benedict closed the door behind her and went up to his bedroom.  He looked at the rumpled cream-colored satin sheets in disgust before going over to his dresser to check his mobile phone.  There was one text message from Adam.  
  
 _How'd it go last night?  Alice wants to know if we're still on for dinner Friday? We can't wait to meet Beth.  A._  
  
Benedict stripped the sheets off the bed and tossed them on the floor.  He sat cross-legged on the bare mattress and responded to the text:  
  
 _You have a long wait.  B_  
  
 _What happened?  A_  
  
 _The Ivy was wasted on her. Everything had too much fat, sugar or salt.  It'll just be the 3 of us Friday. B_  
  
Benedict wrinkled his nose in distaste as he sniffed the strong perfume that lingered in the air.  Her scent was so overpowering he had almost gagged at times the night before. He opened the window to air out the room.  As he put a clean fitted sheet on the mattress, his text alert went off.   
  
 _Too bad, mate.  Did you get laid at least? A_  
  
Benedict thought about the night before and laughed bitterly.  He didn't feel like going into all the details.  He quickly typed a response.  
  
 _Let's say it wasn't the best shag I've ever had.  B_  
  
 _No such thing as a bad shag. ;-)   A_  
  
Benedict shook his head and typed his response.  
  
You weren't there.  Believe me, it was sorely lacking. Literally. B  
  
 _Even when it's not perfect, it's still damn good.  A_  
  
 _Bugger off. Of course you have good sex. You're happily married. I want to have sex like that.  Now fuck off and go to work. B_  
  
 _I am at work.  A_  
  
 _I was hoping for a bit more detail.  A_  
  
 _Piss off. I'm in a mood. B_  
  
 _I can tell.  Was it something I said?  A_  
  
 _Put the mouth filter on, Benedict.  Don't kiss and tell. Even if he is your best friend._  
  
Benedict sat there and thought about what had transpired.  He cringed at the memory and began typing his response.  
  
 _You want details? Here are your bloody details. She's not into oral. Body fluids disgust her. Her nails are like daggers and she's a biter. My back's all scratched up and I've got bite marks on my arse and inner thighs. Good thing I'm not doing any nude scenes.  B_  
  
There was no immediate response.  
  
 _Satisfied? B_  
  
 _More than you apparently.  :-p  A_  
  
 _Sod off, fucker.  Don't you have a movie to direct? B_  
  
 _We're waiting for the star to get out of makeup.  The knob was late again.  A_  
  
 _She kept tapping her nails.  Tap, tap, tap.  I wanted to rip them off. B_  
  
There was no response from Adam.  
  
 _She kept calling me Benny.  B_  
  
 _Benny? OMG...  A_  
  
 _She had the bollocks to say my name is too long and old-fashioned. There's nothing wrong with my name.  B_  
  
 _Actually I think I rather like Benny. It's kinda cute.  :-)    A_  
  
 _Prick.  B_  
  
 _Lucky for you I have thick skin or my feelings would be hurt. A_  
  
Benedict finished making up the bed.  The text chime went off.  
  
 _She's not worth getting your knickers in a twist over. A_  
  
 _I jumped for joy when she left.  B_  
  
 _I've been called back to set. Knob must have arrived. Talk later. A_  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Benedict spent the rest of the morning doing laundry and tending to his rooftop garden.  When he returned downstairs, he heard the landline ringing.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
 _"What's your schedule like today?"_ asked Timothy.   
  
"Hi Dad.  I have an audio book at four so I'm pretty much free for the next couple of hours.  Do you have something in mind?"  
  
 _"I'm in the area and thought we could have a quick bite before I head back to Chelsea for a late afternoon shoot. How about that pub near your place?"_ Timothy asked.  _"The Stag, isn't it?"_  
  
Benedict looked at the clock.  He could toss the last load of laundry in the dryer and head out.  
  
"Yeah.  The Stag.  I'd like that," replied Benedict.  "How's one o'clock?"  
  
 _"See you then,"_ said Timothy.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Father and son sat across from each other in a booth in the pub.  They had just finished their burgers and chips and were chatting over the remnants of their drinks. Timothy had a ginger beer and Benedict a Diet Coke.   
  
"I was thinking of taking your mother to the Ivy for our anniversary," mused Timothy.  "We haven't been there in a while."  
  
"I was there last night with Beth," Benedict said taking a swallow of his soda.  "The service was top-notch. The food was superb.  I wish I could have said the same for the company," he added rolling his eyes.   
  
Timothy leaned back in the booth.  He'd noticed his son's sour mood the minute he walked into the pub.  
  
"This is the first time you've mentioned Beth.  Have you been seeing her long?"  Timothy asked gently.  
  
Benedict laughed bitterly as he drew small circles in the condensation that had formed on his glass.   
  
"No, Dad.  You could say it was over before it started.  Last night was our third and final date."  
  
Timothy frowned.   
  
"Sorry to hear it didn't work out.  Good thing you didn't mention you were dating someone to your mother."  
  
"Oh, God, no," said Benedict running his fingertip around the lip of the glass. "After the last time, I promised myself I wouldn't tell Mum anything until I'm actually in a serious relationship."   
  
"Good idea," nodded Timothy.  "At least you weren't sleeping with her yet."  
  
Silence.  
  
"Oh," said Timothy looking down at his glass.  
  
More silence.  
  
"I should never jump to conclusions.  That's what all these years of living with your mother has done to me," chuckled Timothy.  "Sorry for overstepping my boundaries, Ben.  It won't happen again."  
  
Benedict looked down at his hands, pretending to study them.  Then he looked up at his father.  He started to open his mouth then closed it.   
  
"Is there something you want to say?" asked Timothy quietly. "Nothing said at this table will be repeated to your mother.  You have my word."  
  
"She spent the night," began Benedict.  
  
"You're an adult, Ben.  I'm not here to pronounce judgement on you.  I'm here to listen if you want to talk. That's all."  
  
Benedict nodded and took a now cold chip off his plate.  He dipped it in malt vinegar and nibbled on it.   
  
"All morning I kept going back to a conversation you and I had when I was 17.  It was when I developed a really serious interest in girls," Benedict said with a slight smile.  "Do you remember it?"  
  
Timothy smiled fondly at his son and nodded.  
  
"Of course I do.  It was right after I caught you feeling that girl up in the garage."  
  
"I wasn't very smooth then, was I?" commented Benedict running his hand through his hair.  "God, it seems so long ago."  
  
"I took you out walking in Hyde Park, and we had the talk about the birds and bees again," said Timothy.  
  
"I recall it being much more explicit than the first time we had the talk."  
  
"Oh, it had to be," said Timothy.  "You were champing at the bit to have your first shag.  I needed to make sure you understood that you just didn't go out and shag for the sake of shagging.  I wanted you to understand that there was more to it than just physical pleasure."  
  
Benedict nodded.   
  
"Yeah.  At first, I didn't think you knew what you were talking about.  I was on a mission to lose my virginity - and I did once I got to Manchester.   Sex in itself is great, and I did my share of  - as you put it - sowing my oats."  
  
He paused to look at his father.  Timothy's face remained impassive.  
  
"Sorry, if this is makes you uncomfortable, I can shut up," Benedict offered.  
  
Timothy gestured that he should continue.  
  
"When I met Olivia and fell in love, that changed everything. It was the first time I think I really understood what you were trying to convey to me.  Since the split, I've had one serious relationship and a lot of casual ones.  It hit me this morning when I woke up."   
  
 _Time to turn the filter on, Benedict.  He doesn't need to know about the biting and scratching._  
  
"The sex itself was okay.  It feels great while you're doing it; but afterwards I felt nothing."  
  
Timothy shifted in the booth and nodded.  
  
"Even though she was there, I still felt alone when I woke up.  There was something missing. The feeling of being in love was missing.  I had no feelings for Beth other than pure lust.  Hell, I can satisfy my lust with a good wank," Benedict laughed bitterly.  "So, I decided to stop seeing her."  
  
Timothy finished his ginger beer.  
  
"You're not saying anything, Dad."  
  
"I don't think I have to.  I think you've expressed yourself quite eloquently."  
  
Benedict nodded and took another sip of soda.  
  
"Sex without love is meaningless to me at this stage of my life, Dad."  
  
"Good to know that talk wasn't wasted," Timothy said.  "I always thought that you let my words go in one ear and out the other."  
  
Benedict rubbed the back of his neck and laughed.  
  
"To be honest, they did at the time.  It was only as I got older and had different kinds of relationships that I truly began to understand what you were trying to tell me. For whatever reason, it really hit home after last night.   I see how much in love you and Mum still are.  I mean, Christ, you're still shag..."  
  
Benedict abruptly stopped speaking.  
  
Timothy raised his eyebrows questioningly.  
  
"Never mind.  What I mean is that you two have such a good marriage.  I'm so jealous - I want to find someone who makes me feel the way you feel about Mum.  I only hope to have a marriage half as strong as yours is.  I want it so bad some days I can taste it, and today is one of those days.  I really do know my luck's bound to change, it's just taking so damn long. You know I'm not very patient."   
  
Benedict took a deep breath and let it out slowly before continuing.  
  
"I'm also not telling you all the gritty details about last night. I'll just say that she's really into biting and scratching. She fucking wounded me!"  
  
 _Say nothing Timothy.  Say nothing at all. You don't want to know what goes on in his bedroom.  It's none of your business._  
  
They sat in silence as the busboy came and cleared the table.   
  
Benedict reached into his pocket and extracted his wallet.  
  
"Trust me, she wasn't daughter-in-law material," he said with a wink as he signaled for the bill.  "Anyway, thanks for listening to me ramble on."   
  
"Ramble on whenever you like, son," said Timothy Carlton feeling very proud that a lesson taught so long ago had finally been learned. 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted Benedict and Timothy to have a serious father/son chat and show a more mature side of Benedict's personality.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is Wanda's luck about to run out?

Wanda Ventham sat down at the desk and pulled out the folder containing the paperwork for her twenty finalists from the ad responses. She and Timothy had gone to visit an old friend of theirs in hospital that morning.  Then he had gone to meet Benedict for lunch in Hampstead, while she had returned to Kensington to get her hair and nails done. Wanda knew that Timothy had a late afternoon/early evening shoot in Chelsea, so she would be alone until after dinner at least.   
  
It was very quiet in the flat. Wanda got up, approached the CD player and went through the stack of CDs.  
  
 _Remember, Wanda, just don't play it as loud as the other night._  
  
Wanda put on a Tony Bennett CD and went to make a pot of her favorite chocolate mint tea while Tony sang about losing his heart in San Francisco.  
  
Wanda reviewed the resumes and looked over the notes she had made the night Timothy had walked in on her. So many of them had looked promising. Just as she was looking at the resume of a nurse at St. Bart's the doorbell rang.  
  
Wanda closed the folder as she got up. She crossed the room and pressed the intercom:  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"I have a delivery for Mrs. Wanda Cumberpatch from Harrods."  
  
Wanda sighed deeply.  
  
 _It's really not that difficult of a name! Cumber. Batch._  
  
"It's batch – CumberBATCH. I'll be right down," said Wanda as she shook her head and went downstairs to collect the package.   
  
While Wanda was downstairs, the phone rang. The answering machine picked up with Timothy's recorded message:  
  
 _Hello, you have reached the Cumberbatch residence. Kindly leave a brief message after the beep and we'll be pleased to return your call._  
  
 _"Wanda? Are you there?"_ asked Timothy. _"I wanted to let you know that filming's been cancelled. The director has the vomiting bug so I'll be home in a tic. How about we go to the cinema tonight?"_  


Wanda came back upstairs with her package. She was so excited to open the package that she took it directly into Benedict's old bedroom without noticing the blinking light on the answering machine.   
  
 _Let's take a look to make sure it's the same one I ordered online,_ she thought.  
  
Wanda excitedly opened the box and unwrapped the crimson cashmere dressing gown and matching slippers she had ordered for Timothy for their anniversary. He always complained that his silk robe was too light and his terry cloth robe too heavy. She held up the robe and carefully inspected it and then the slippers.   
  
 _Oh, it's so soft, yet lightweight and warm at the same time. Perfect! The color will look stunning on him. He's going to love the slippers, too._  
  
Satisfied that there were no damages, she carefully re-folded the robe and wrapped it back up in the tissue paper. She got out a scissors from the small desk Benedict had done his schoolwork on and removed the price tags.  Then she took out the gift box that was included and unfolded it. She lay the robe and slippers in the box, and put the cover on.  
  
 _I think I'll do up the gift wrapping now,_ she thought.  _I've got the time._  
  
Wanda slid the plastic gift wrap box out from under Benedict's bed and wrapped it in blue-and-white striped paper. She even took the time to make a matching blue bow rather than use one of the pre-made stick-on ones. She went back into her bedroom to get the card she had purchased and wrote it out. Finished, Wanda slid the box with the gift wrap supplies back under the bed. Then she went into her bedroom and placed the gift and card on the back shelf of the walk-in wardrobe where she kept her handbags.   
  
Unfortunately, Wanda didn't hear her husband call out that he was home.   
  
 _Okay, that's done. Now let me get back to finding a bird for Ben._  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Timothy entered the flat to the sounds of Tony Bennett singing about love for sale. He noted that the volume was lower than the other night. He also noted that the message on the answering machine hadn't been retrieved. His wife must have been in one of the back bedrooms.  
  
"Wanda, I'm back," he called out.   
  
Silence.  
  
 _Maybe she's having a lie down._  
  
Timothy went over to the CD player and turned it off.  
  
 _Shut up, Tony._  
  
Timothy stretched and looked around the lounge.  
  
 _I don't feel like watching telly. I don't feel like reading either. I think I'll have a putter on the computer and check what's playing at the Odeon._  
  
Timothy walked over to the computer. The screensaver had come on showing a family photo of him, Wanda and Benedict taken in Greece during the Christmas holidays. He plopped down in the chair and noticed that Wanda had made a pot of tea. He was thirsty and finished off the still-warm tea from her mug as he placed the folder that was on the keyboard to the side. A couple of pages fell out and slid under the desk out of his reach.  
  
 _Bollocks! I'd better get the grabber so I don't have to get down on my knees, because I'll never get up,_ thought Timothy as he headed into the kitchen. _I hope it's somewhere easier to find then the last time I needed the blasted thing._

 

 

As Wanda walked down the hall to the lounge, she noticed that Tony Bennett had stopped singing.  
  
 _Why aren't you singing to me, Tony? I thought you were going to keep me company!_  
  
Wanda headed over to the CD player and found it was off.  
  
 _It must have switched off automatically,_ she thought.       
  
Wanda put the player back on and returned to the computer. She saw the folder was now to the right of the keyboard.  
  
 _Hmm. I could swear I left that folder on top of the keyboard._  
  
Wanda shrugged and placed the folder in front of her. She opened it to look at the nurse's resume again, but it wasn't on top.  
  
 _Oh, how I hate interruptions! Now I'll have to go through this pile again to find her._  
  
She frowned and brought the tea mug to her lips as she turned the pages.  Wanda kept tipping the mug, but there was no tea hitting her lips. She finally looked down into the mug. It was empty.  
  
 _Bloody hell! What in God's name is happening? I could swear the mug was almost full. You're working too hard, Wanda._  
  
Wanda shrugged and rolled her neck around. She hit the enter button to get back to the new response she was reading. This one was from a teacher in Hoxton.   
  
Suddenly, nature called.  
  
 _Blimey, what a time to have to go take a wee! I'm drinking too much tea.  Just when I was ready to sort this all out once and for all._  
  
She got up and trudged down the hallway to the bathroom.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Timothy returned to the lounge, grabber in hand and noticed that the CD player was on again.  
  
"Ah, you're up! I left a message on the answerphone that we should go to the cinema tonight. I'll check to see what's playing, shall I?"  
  
He bent down a bit and was able to easily retrieve the pages he had dropped with the grabber. He looked at them. One was a resume for a girl who was a nurse at St. Bart's; the other was a headshot of a girl named Claire Tompkins. Timothy put them back on top of the folder that had since been moved back to its original position.  
  
 _Why would she be looking at resumes and headshots? It's none of your business, Timothy. If she wants to tell you, she will._  
  
Timothy sat down with the intent of checking movie times. He hit the enter button to get the screensaver off and saw that there was an open email on the computer screen, addressed to Wanda at an address he had never seen before. Just as Timothy was about to minimize the screen so he could go on the theatre website, his hand froze on the mouse.  
  
It was the subject line that caught his attention:  
  
 _ **Response to your Craigslist ad: Daughter-in-law Wanted**_  
  
It suddenly became very clear to Timothy Carlton what his wife was up to.  
  
  
  
  
  
Wanda walked down the hall into the lounge to find her husband sitting at the computer. The floorboard creaked under her weight as she froze in her tracks. Horrified, Wanda took in the scene before her. Timothy was sitting at the computer, reading her email. She saw that the resume and headshot were on top of the folder in plain sight.   
  
 _Where did he come from? Oh, fuck me,_ she thought.  _I wonder what he's thinking._  
  
Wanda didn't have long to wait, as Timothy whirled around in the chair to face her. She felt her heart skip a beat and her palms grew sweaty. His eyes were dark and flashing, mouth set in the same grim line as Benedict's when he was angry. He crossed his long legs, sat back, looked her over from head to toe and said nothing for several minutes.   
  
Finally Timothy gestured to the computer screen.  
  
"Response to your Craigslist ad: Daughter-in-law Wanted," he said in an icy tone of voice. "I'm most interested to hear about what is obviously your ad, my love," he added sarcastically.  
  
Several minutes passed in tense silence.   
  
 _Think, Wanda, think!  At least he hasn't read the bloody ad yet._  
  
Unfortunately, Wanda was coming up blank under her husband's piercing gaze.  
  
"Want to tell me what this is all about?" he asked, voice rising ever so slightly. "No? I didn't think so. Shall I look up the ad myself, then? It will only take me a minute," he said as he swiveled back to face the computer and opened a new window.   
  
"Oh, it's not entirely what you think, Tim," she began in a small voice.  
  
Wanda didn't go any further as she could see that he had the ad up on the screen in under a minute. She watched as he read it, her heart pounding in her chest.   
  
 _"Are you tired of travelling life's journey alone? Are you tired of fruitless searches to find the right man? Are you ready to reap the rewards of a happy relationship?"_ Timothy read aloud in disbelief.   
  
"Dramatic, yet it does demand your attention," he muttered.  
  
 _"If you have answered 'yes' to any of these questions, look no further."_  
  
He glanced back over his shoulder at her. "You sound like a used-car salesman."  
  
"Oh, you don't need to read any more," Wanda began to protest weakly.  
  
"I can hardly stop now that you've got my attention, my pet! _Mother seeks mate for handsome 32-yr. old son, who is intelligent and kind-hearted. Hard working, yet fun-loving.  Harrow-educated, with University and Masters degrees._ I'm surprised you didn't put that he leaves the loo seat down! 'Graduated with honors' would have been a nice touch."  
  
Timothy shook his head and took a deep breath before continuing to read:  
  
 _"Looking for an attractive, non-smoking female, 25-35, with a zest for life. The right candidate must be friendly and outgoing with a strong sense of family values. University degree or higher required. Good listening and conversational skills essential. Good manners and sense of humor necessary. Interest in music, literature and the arts helpful. Competency at maintaining a household. Willingness to bear children. Cookery skills a plus._ Well, you certainly covered everything. Did you get even one response?"  
  
"Fifty-seven, actually," replied Wanda proudly.  
  
"Oh, you must be pretty chuffed with yourself."  
  
Wanda started to speak but he cut her off.  
  
"I can't believe I'm reading such rubbish, Wanda! What would anyone think after reading this – that our son is a desperate man whose mother has to find him a suitable mate!"  
  
Timothy banged his fist on the desk.  
  
Again Wanda started to speak, but he held up his hand to silence her.  
  
"Let's see, and now for the big finish: _You will have nothing to lose by contacting me. What you will gain is the perfect partner to travel through life with!"_  
  
Wanda stared at her husband's back for what seemed an eternity.  Finally, he turned to face her. His face was a mask of anger. In all the time they had been married, she couldn't recall seeing him this upset – except for the time Benedict had been caught smoking weed in the garage.  
  
Timothy sat in barely contained fury. He took several deep breaths and when he spoke, his voice was low and controlled.  
  
"Well done, you! I do think you have outdone yourself this time, Wanda. I also think you owe your perfect partner an explanation of this folly," he said, drumming his fingers on the arms of the chair.  
  
Wanda stood still, heart racing, trying to think of something to say that would circumvent the inevitable explosion of temper from her husband.   
  
The sound of the landline ringing startled both of them.  
  
For once in her life, Wanda Ventham was overjoyed to hear the phone ring. She quickly turned and headed over to answer it – however, her husband's cold voice stopped her in her tracks.  
  
"Let the answerphone get it."  
  
"It could be something important..." began Wanda.   
  
The machine picked up and Timothy's greeting could be heard.  
  
"Oh, look. We already have a message," she said, noticing the blinking light of the message indicator.  "Don't you think—"  
  
Timothy was suddenly by her side. He reached over her, picked up the phone and slammed it down, disconnecting whoever had called.  
  
"I left the message. If you'd taken the time to listen to it you would have known I was coming home early! That's why you're in this pickle."  
  
The phone began ringing again.   
  
"What if it's my sister or Ben? What if one of them is hurt or sick?"  
  
Wanda fixed her husband with a meaningful look. He threw up his hands in disgust.  
  
"If it's important, we'll pick it up."  
  
Benedict's voice was heard after the tone.  
  
 _"Mum? Are you home? It's me. I just called but the answering machine cut me off. Anyway, as you can hear, it's all right now or I wouldn't be talking to you. I was wondering if you were going to be home later. I'm done for the day and thought I'd stop by with a takeaway to keep you company while Dad's working. I'll bring extra so Dad can eat when he gets home. It really would be a treat for us to have dinner together. Oh, and I also have some rather exciting news to share with you. I'm just so over the moon right now.  No, Mum, I don't have a bird, if that's what you're thinking."_  
  
They could hear Benedict chuckle at his own wit.  
  
Timothy rolled his eyes.  
  
"Damn you and your fucking long messages, Benedict!"  
  
Wanda shushed him so she could listen.  
  
 _"I was thinking of getting a Chinese or maybe Thai?  Then again, I know how much you like Greek. I could go to the place that has the gyro sandwiches and the baklava. The only thing is sometimes Dad gets heartburn from the gyros, so maybe that isn't such a good idea. Maybe Italian would be better. I could pop over to Prezzo and get us Italian burgers. Those were really good, remember? They had crispy prosciutto, mozzarella cheese and garlic mayonnaise. The buns had a polenta crust. Mmm!  Last time we had the salads on the side, oh, but Dad likes their calzone. Better still, I could go to both places and then everyone's happy!  Unless you'd rather have Chinese. Which do you fancy? I don't have a particular preference. We could even go out if you'd like. Well, of course you can't answer me 'cos you're obviously not home, and here I am talking to you as if you were...."_  
  
Wanda rolled her eyes.  
  
"Oh, no. It's one of those messages."  
  
Timothy had sat down at the dining room table. He banged his fist on the table and shook his head.  
  
"God help me but I don't have the patience for his flapping about!" Spittle flew from his mouth onto Tony Bennett.  
  
"Shush! I'm sure he's almost done," said Wanda, quickly wiping the case.  
  
 _"I got a call from John today about a new playwright who's doing a drama at the Old Vic in late summer. It's a short run so I could do it before filming for Sherlock starts. There's a great part for an unfaithful husband that John thinks I'd be perfect for. I dropped by his office and picked up the script and read it as soon as I got home. I'm really over the moon about it.  I know I could bring the character to life. There's some humor in it... Oh, fuck – what a prat I am. I've just told you my news. Anyway, guess who I heard from today?  Remember James Rhodes? We went to Harrow together. Surely you remember him..."_  
  
"He's not hurt or sick. He's just suffering from terminal berkishness," said Timothy through gritted teeth. "Cut him off."  
  
Wanda ignored Timothy. She sighed and shook her head.  
  
"Bless him. Do you remember how anxious we were for him to start talking?"  
  
"Vividly. We couldn't wait for him to utter his first words, and now he doesn't stop – not even to take a bloody breath! For fuck's sake!"  
  
Timothy rose, went over to the machine and turned it off as Benedict prattled merrily on about his friend's concert.  
  
"Now, where were we?" He rubbed his hands together.  
  
Wanda's mobile rang. When Timothy picked it up off the desk and checked the caller ID he groaned in frustration.  
  
Wanda chuckled. "The Hound of the Baskerville has tracked me down, I take it?"  
  
Timothy had lost all patience. He pressed the button to answer the call.  
  
"Jesus Christ, Benedict, stop calling! What in bloody hell is so damn important? We've already heard you recite War and Peace to the fucking answerphone! Are you sick or hurt in any way?"  
  
 _"I, um, just wanted to come over and keep Mum company while you were at work. What are you doing home?  I thought you were filming. Is now a bad time?"_  
  
"Yes. The worst possible. We'll call you back. Cheers."  
  
Timothy put the mobile onto the desk and looked at his wife.  
  
"I believe you were about to regale me with an explanation?"  
  
  
  
  
  
Benedict Cumberbatch stood in front of the Marble Arch tube station entrance, holding his mobile phone as commuters made their way around him. He wore a very puzzled expression on his face.  
  
 _He hasn't sounded this mad since the night I cocked up the gearbox in the Mini Cooper. What did I interrupt this time?_  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this chapter! For fans of BBC Sherlock, please note that I've started a new story here – [Selling Holmes.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/992296)


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We last left Wanda and Timothy on the verge of a showdown, let the game begin! ;-)

  
Wanda Ventham stood, locking eyes with her husband in the lounge of their Kensington flat. Timothy had caught her red-handed.   
  
She quickly went over her scant options.  
  
 _Damn, the only thing left to do is tell the truth and let the chips fall where they may._  
  
"Tim, I—" she began quietly.  
  
Suddenly, Timothy hoisted himself out of the chair and offered it to her.  
  
"You know, Wanda, I just realised I don't want to hear it. I don't think I care.  I've got a fair idea of what's going on, but I've just decided that I'm better off not knowing the gory details."  
  
Wanda looked at him, dumbfounded.  
  
"Why the sudden change of heart?" she asked incredulously.  
  
"Simple. What I don't know can't be extracted from me by Barrister Ben – when he finds out. And he will find out, Wanda. Mark my words. The question that remains is when," Timothy said.  
  
"As you were, then!" He indicated that she should return to the desk.     
  
Wanda watched his back as he disappeared into the kitchen. As she sat listening she could hear rummaging around in the cabinets and refrigerator. Satisfied that the storm had passed and counting herself very lucky, Wanda lay out the photographs across the desktop and began to match them to the corresponding resumes. The sound of ice tinkling against glass caught her attention.  
  
Timothy had returned to the lounge, carrying a tray which held a large pitcher of Pimm's and lemonade, a glass and a plate of assorted cheese wedges and table water crackers. He placed it on the coffee table, sat down with a grunt, picked up the television remote and turned it on. Then he poured himself a drink and took a healthy swallow.  
  
"Ah! That hits the spot!" he said, smacking his lips in satisfaction as he surfed the channels, finally settling on the news.  
  
"Ooh, what a brilliant idea! Our first Pimm's of the season," said Wanda, clapping her hands together. "It looks divine."  
  
Timothy sipped at his drink, ignoring her.  
  
"Aren't you going to share?" Wanda held out her empty tea mug with a saucy wink.  
  
Timothy continued to watch the news. He drank some more and helped himself to a wedge of gouda cheese on a cracker.  
  
 _"No!_ I'm planning on drinking this whole bloody pitcher myself. That way it'll help me forget what just happened," he said without looking at her.  
  
Wanda sighed.  
  
 _I'm not totally out of the woods yet._  
  
Usually they drank Pimm's and lemonade in the summer, but the spring weather had turned unusually warm over the past couple of days.    
  
"You'll get pissed if you drink that whole pitcher and I can't carry you to bed," she said with a touch of annoyance. "How about you come over here and give me some of that Pimm's – being you drank my tea?"  
  
She held out her mug towards him again.  
  
Timothy slowly rose from the couch and approached her with the pitcher.  He took the mug from her and filled it, making sure to get some of the cucumber slices in it. As he handed it back to her, he caught sight of the photographs Wanda had spread on the desktop and looked them over.  
  
"She's rather pretty, isn't she?" he said, pointing to one of the photos.  
  
"Her name's Naomi Blankenship. She works for a marketing firm near Liverpool Street."  
  
Wanda watched as Timothy picked up Naomi's resume and began to read it. She took a sip of the cocktail. It was so strong it made her shudder.  
  
"My God, you were heavy-handed with the Pimm's!"  
  
"Is there any other way?" asked Timothy with a sly smile.  
  
Wanda smiled back at him, feeling the tension between them starting to melt away.  
  
"Right you are – as in all things," she said. "I think we'd better eat some of that cheese before we get pissed again."   
  
Wanda got up and went to fetch Timothy's glass and the plate. When she turned around, she found that he had moved onto her chair and was studying another photo.  
  
"Tell me about this one," he said.  
  
Wanda pulled up another chair and sat beside him.  
  
"Elizabeth Cooper-Jones."  
  
"What does she do?"  
  
"A florist. Lives in South Kensington."  
  
"Local girl. She can do her own wedding flowers," he commented dryly.  
  
Timothy took a swig of his drink. He put down the photo and shook his head, then looked up to see his wife watching him with a mischievous look in her ice blue eyes. He knew that look too well.  
  
"I don't want you to get the wrong idea, Wanda. I was just looking at their photos! I am in no way condoning what you're doing."  
  
"Nor should you," said Wanda placidly. "You made it very clear that you don't wish to get involved, and I respect your wishes. Now – off you go!" She made a shooing gesture at him and he vacated the chair.   
  
Timothy carried his drink back to the couch. He settled back against a pillow and watched the news program; however, he found himself unable to concentrate. In Hampstead he'd left the pub feeling sad for his son. In fact he'd spent the entire tube ride back thinking of possible solutions to Benedict's problem. It pained Timothy that his son seemed to be unlucky in love. A little voice in the back of his mind whispered that perhaps his wife's approach wasn't so bad.   
  
He found himself replaying Benedict's words over and over in his mind:  
  
 _"It was only as I got older and had different kinds of relationships that I truly began to understand what you were trying to tell me. For whatever reason, it really hit home after last night. I see how much in love you and Mum still are. You two have such a good marriage. I am so jealous – I want to find someone who makes me feel the way you feel about Mum. I only hope to have a marriage half as strong as yours is. I want it so bad some days I can taste it, and today is one of those days."_  
  
Suddenly, Timothy found himself thinking of his friend's daughter who had recently divorced – a nice girl with a small child. He could give his friend a call and ask if she was seeing anyone.  
  
Timothy felt for his mobile phone in his pocket.   
  
 _I'll just pretend to go out for a walk and ring up Graham. Wanda would never find out._  
  
Then his conscience caught up with him.   
  
 _What in the hell do you think you're doing, Tim? You're acting just like Wanda. Take your own advice and stay out if it. Let Benedict sort out his love life for himself. Fate is bound to bring him together with someone sooner or later. His time will come._  
  
Timothy clicked off the television and watched Wanda as she compared two photos side-by-side at the desk. His heart broke as he remembered the sadness on Benedict's face in the pub.  
  
 _Fate doesn't need a push. It needs a fucking shove_ , he thought.  
  
Timothy rose and sat beside his wife. He smoothed her hair and kissed her lightly on the lips.  
  
"Oh, my darling Wanda. I don't mean to be so cross with you. To tell you the truth, I had an epiphany of my own today."  
  
Wanda frowned and looked into his eyes quizzically. Then it dawned on her.  
  
"You had lunch with Ben today. Did he say something to cause this... _epiphany_?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.  
  
Timothy picked up one of the photos and looked at it. He cleared his throat.  
  
"He said quite a bit, actually."  
  
"Doesn't he always though?"  
  
"He said enough to give me pause just now," said Timothy thoughtfully. "What's her name?"  
  
"Donna Saint James. I really liked her response. Rather mysterious."  
  
Timothy looked closely at the photo. The woman had chestnut brown hair and a soft fringe over large, hazel eyes.  
  
"Her teeth are very straight – braces, I bet," said Wanda.  "She's not drop-dead gorgeous. I'd call her...cute."  
  
"She has nice dimples," Timothy added. "But what did you mean by a mysterious response?"  
  
Wanda showed him it:  
  
  
  
 **Dear WNDAVC:**  
  
 **I would very much like to meet the woman behind such a creative and intriguing ad. Not only do I wish to learn more about your son, but you as well. Please contact me so we can set up a mutually convenient time to meet. I will be happy to answer any questions you may have at that time.**  
  
 **Looking forward to your reply.**  
  
 **Regards,**  
 **Donna Saint James**

  
  
  
"She finds my ad creative and intriguing!" said Wanda proudly. She held her head high. "I like her already."  
  
"Flattery will get you everywhere," said Timothy dryly. "Where's her resume?"  
  
Wanda bit her lip and frowned.  
  
"Well, that's why I said 'mysterious'. There isn't one. She just sent the email and photo."  
  
"Interesting." Timothy stroked his chin. "I don't like it."  
  
"Well, there are many more for us to look over before we decide which to interview," said Wanda, eating a slice of cucumber.  "I'm trying to keep it to the best dozen."  
  
Timothy glanced at her sideways and took a sip of his drink. "Darling, you keep saying _us_ and _we_. I don't recall saying I was going to take part in this half-cocked scheme of yours."  
  
"But you've not said no," said Wanda with a toss of her head.  
  
She picked up another photo.  
  
"Emma Middleston. I think this one has a lot of potential. Good looks and qualifications."  
  
Timothy leaned towards Wanda and looked at the photograph. This one was a stunning woman with chin-length, curly reddish-blonde hair and green eyes.  
  
"She looks a bit stern," he said.  
  
"She's a doctor in private practice. An obstetrician. Lives in Islington." Wanda replaced the photograph on the desk. "She must like children if she delivers them."  
  
Timothy shook his head.  
  
"She'd never be home. Babies are born at all hours of the day and night – not to mention surgery and hospital rounds. Our Ben can be away for several weeks at a time. Who would watch the children?"  
  
Wanda laughed and poked her husband gently in the ribs.   
  
"That's where we come in! Who's getting ahead of himself now?"  
  
"You're right," Timothy said. "Let's add her to the list." He took a pad and scribbled on it.  
  
Wanda blinked. "What list?"  
  
"A list of the girls we're definitely going to interview."  
  
" _We_?" Wanda raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "Correct me if I'm wrong, Tim, but you don't approve of what I'm doing! You said it was rubbish!"  
  
 _You've got him now, Wanda._ _Time to close the deal._  
  
"You need to make up your bloody mind!" she pressed him. "Are you going to help me give fate a tiny little poke or not?"  
  
Timothy refilled Wanda's mug and his glass, dividing the cucumber slices between them.  
  
"I have no intention of helping you give fate a tiny poke. We're going to give it a bloody good shove!"  
  
Wanda rose, sat on his lap, covered his face with kisses and hugged him close.  
  
"Timothy Cumberbatch, this is why I love you."  
  
Timothy hugged her back and laughed, "I feel like I've just sold my soul to the devil."  
  
He raised his glass in a toast.  
  
"To fate," he said with a grin.  
  
"To fate," she agreed.  
  
They clinked their glasses together.  
  
  
  
  
  
Wanda stretched and yawned. "That didn't take very long. I think we've got it all sorted out."  
  
"I'm surprised they answered so quickly," commented Timothy as he sipped his Pimm's. "Anxious to meet their perfect partner, no doubt."  
  
"It was my brilliant ad that captured their interest. I just need to get some more headshots printed – and before you say anything, I'm not using the _Sherlock_ promotional ones. I couldn't use them if I wanted to!"  
  
Timothy chuckled. "Ran out, did you?"  
  
Wanda sighed. " _Your son_ demanded I give them back."  
  
"Not to worry. I can get you some current ones," Timothy said through a wedge of Jarlsberg cheese. "He's got them saved on this very computer."  
  
Wanda pulled up the Excel spreadsheet of her interview appointments.  
  
"That computer course was the best thirty quid I ever spent." She typed in the last appointment. "There! We're going to have a busy week ahead of us."  
  
Timothy leaned over to review the schedule, nodding his approval.  
  
Again Wanda perched on his lap. She kissed him lightly on the lips.  
  
"I'm so happy you've come over to the dark side," she teased.  
  
"I just hope we're not going to regret it."  
  
"Perish the thought!" Wanda laughed. "I've taken all sorts of precautions. What could happen?"  
  
Timothy patted her arm. "I think today was a fine example of what can happen in spite of the best precautions."  
  
"That was Tony Bennett's fault! I didn't hear you come in."  
  
"Benedict could find out, my pet. You know how nosy he is. Once he gets hold of something, bless him, he won't let go."  
  
Wanda grimaced. _Yes, I know all too well._  
  
Timothy smiled and brushed her hair back. He kissed her jaw and purred, "How long has it been since we had a good snog?"  
  
Wanda laughed throatily.  
  
"Oh, I'd say a couple of weeks. Why, are you trying to seduce me?"  
  
He laughed and kissed her earlobe. "Yes. I've thought of nothing else with your glorious bum settled on my lap."  
  
Wanda's mobile rang.

The pair looked at each other.  
  
 _"Benedict!"_  
  
Wanda cleared her throat and picked up the phone while Timothy returned his attention to kissing her neck.  
  
"Shit! We forgot all about him. Hello, Ben?"  
  
 _"Hi, Mum. Is everything okay? It sounded like you and Dad were having a bit of a domestic!"_  
  
"Oh! It's, er, all fine! All couples have domestics. Think of it as a summer thunder storm passing through, love."  
  
Wanda giggled and swatted Timothy's hand from under her skirt.  
  
"Not now!"  
  
 _"Mum? Are you sure everything's all right? Can I come up?"_  
  
"Benedict, you don't have to ask permission. This is your home." She broke into another fit of giggles. "You still have your keys! You're always welcome!"  
  
"Just not now, damn you," murmured Timothy, continuing to lavish attention on Wanda's neck.  
  
 _"I'm downstairs. Be right up!"_  
  
Wanda rang off and gave the phone a withering look.  
  
"Tell your soldier to stand down. The sergeant's on his way upstairs."  
  
 _Bugger.  It takes the soldier awhile to leave the guardhouse these days as is_ , thought Timothy.  
  
"Shit! We'd better hide all of this," he said.  
  
Just then the door opened.

 

  
  
Benedict walked in to find his mother sitting on his father's lap at the computer desk. There were half-drunk cocktails and a cheese plate that was mostly crumbs.  
  
 _Odd place for them to be having cocktails._  
  
Benedict noticed his father's face was flushed, his mother's hair a bit disheveled.  
  
 _Oh Christ, please not again! And I called this time! My parents see more action than I do. I'm sodding pathetic!_  
  
"My, you're quick," said Wanda as she began to close all the open windows on the computer.   
  
Benedict detected a bit of annoyance in her voice.  
  
"I did tell you I was downstairs. The lift takes less than a minute." He frowned. "Are you _sure_ I'm not interrupting anything?"  
  
"No!" Both answered simultaneously.   
  
 _Annoyance. I definitely detect annoyance. They want me to leave._  
  
Benedict watched as his father hastily stuffed papers into a folder and handed it to his mother.  
  
Wanda shoved the folder into a desk drawer – the same drawer he'd caught her storing recipes in. Both parents had a guilty look about them.  
  
 _My arse they're looking at recipes! Could they be looking at porn? No. Don't be a clot, Benedict. But they're definitely hiding something. Maybe I should go..._  
  
Benedict coughed.   
  
"I really can come back later or tomorrow," he said anxiously.  
  
Wanda stood up and glanced down at her husband's lap. Discreetly (though not discreetly enough to escape Benedict's horrified notice) she fixed her skirt.  
  
"Well!" She smiled brightly. "Everything looks to be back in order! Anyone for dinner and the cinema?"  
  
 _Shit! She was checking out his crotch. I definitely interrupted something._  
  
Benedict smiled tightly, his face flaming. "If you're sure," he said. "How does the Spaghetti House sound?"  
  
Timothy nodded. "Fine. We haven't been there in a while." He rose from the chair and headed to the bathroom. "I just need a minute to freshen up."  
  
"Jolly good, then," said Wanda. "I'm just going to take these in the kitchen." Humming, she began to gather up the glassware and the cheese plate.   
  
Benedict helped himself to the remaining wedge of cheddar and a cracker. "Bloody hell, did you two drink all that Pimm's?" He looked at the empty pitcher and laughed. "I think you were trying to get Dad drunk and I ruined it!"  
  
 _Yes, you did_ , thought Wanda as she took the tray and turned to go to the kitchen. "It wasn't a full pitcher," she called over her shoulder.  
  
Benedict chuckled and placed the pitcher on the tray.  
  
"I'm sure it packed a wallop. You can never accuse Dad of skimping on the liquor. I'll check and see what's playing at the Odeon." He sat down at the computer.  
  
In her haste, Wanda had forgotten to close her email. Her inbox loomed large on the screen.  
  
"Hey, Mum? Did you get a new email address? WNDAVC? How come you didn't tell me? Is it for your secret boyfriends?"  
  
Wanda nearly dropped the tray.   
  
"It's a correspondence pertaining to my memoirs," she said quickly.  
  
Benedict smiled teasingly as he swiveled to face her. "You're being awfully mysterious, Mum."  
  
"And you're being awfully cheeky!"  
  
"I'm not being cheeky. I call it being curious!"  
  
"I call it being nosy," retorted Wanda. "This isn't the first time I've caught you reading my emails."  
  
"And I've caught you reading mine." Benedict scoffed.   
  
The two sets of ice blue eyes locked. Neither said a word.  
  
Benedict crossed his long legs, leaned back and steeped his hands underneath his chin.  
  
"Who's Donna Saint James?"  
  
 _Shit! Persistent little soul he is._  
  
"She's my literary agent."  
  
Benedict's eyes lit up. "Did she offer you a book deal, then? Did I catch you and Dad celebrating? Ooh, would you mind terribly if I read it? I'll keep it to myself! Promise." He turned to start reading before she could answer.  
  
 _Bless his nosy little heart. I've got to nip this in the bud and fast._  
  
Benedict saw out of the corner of his eye Wanda bring her foot down on the computer cord. It powered off.  
  
 _For fuck's sake! She did that on purpose. She didn't want me reading the email!_  
  
The two sets of ice blue eyes locked again.   
  
"Oops!" Wanda exclaimed, her hand over her mouth in a rueful gesture. "I'm so clumsy sometimes! Be a love and plug that back in, Ben?"  
  
 _That should put an end to your snooping for now, Barrister Ben!_  
  
"Yeah, no problem." Benedict rose and stooped to plug the cord back in.  
  
His low-slung jeans rode down. Wanda gasped.  
  
"Good gracious, Ben! Are those love bites on your bum?"  
  
 _Oh, fuck me! Jesus Christ!_ Benedict leapt up with a squawk. His face was beet-red as he quickly regained his dignity – though he suspected very little remained.  
  
 _What do I tell her? That my crazy date liked to bite? Why did I wear these damn jeans? Because they were the first things I pulled out of the dryer, fuck it! Think carefully before you speak, Benedict! Anything you say will be held against you forever!_  
  
Wanda tried to stifle a giggle and failed. "Don't worry, love. I'm not going to tease you about it."  
  
Benedict's sigh of relief was audible.  
  
However, Wanda wasn't quite done with him yet.  
  
"I promise not to tell a soul! But if I were you I'd bin those jeans, dear."  
  
Benedict detected a smirk at the corners of her mouth. _Bloody hell! She's actually enjoying this. Why in fuck did I have to come over? She'll be telling this story for years_ , he thought miserably.  
  
Wanda noticed that her son hadn't uttered a word since he'd plugged in the computer.  
  
 _Finally, he's at a loss for words. How refreshing!_  
  
"Really, Ben!" she added wickedly, unable to resist. "What if you had to bare your bum for the camera?"  
  
"Point made and taken," muttered Benedict crossly as he booted up the computer.  
  
Timothy returned. Both mother and son turned to glare.  
  
He hesitated. "What's going on? Did I, ah, miss something?"  
  
"No!"  
  
Wanda went placidly into the kitchen. Benedict appeared preoccupied with searching for movie schedules. However, tension hung heavily in the air like a balloon about to burst.  
  
Timothy shuddered. _Damned glad I wasn't here for whatever that was._  
  
Meanwhile, Wanda smiled to herself as she loaded the dishwasher. Humming pleasantly, she added some liquid detergent and started the machine.  
  
 _How nice to have Barrister Ben on holiday!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally I had not intended to have Timothy become embroiled in Wanda's plot. However, as I was writing the confrontation, it just seemed natural that he would want to take part in her "quest for the perfect bird". Another big thank you to L for your suggestions and editing!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're going to have a little time jump. Wanda and Timothy have been busy interviewing bird candidates. They are now down to the last three on their list. Benedict has completed filming Small Island and is busy doing radio dramas, audio books and auditions.

 

"Aren't you ready yet?" called Timothy Carlton as he turned off the TV set and finished tying his tie.   
  
"You're certainly impatient today," said Wanda as she came out of the walk-in wardrobe and slipped on her black jacket. "How do I look? Is it too business-like?"  
  
Wanda wore a black skirt and a long-sleeved bright turquoise top that brought out the color of her eyes.  There was a turquoise, lavender and black print scarf around her neck.  Her black leather pumps were medium-heeled. The only jewelry she wore were her wedding rings and large mother-of-pearl earrings.  
  
Timothy nodded approvingly. "My, my!" he said. “You look like you're meeting a hot date from Craigslist.”   
  
Wanda ignored him. She fiddled with one of her earrings. "I don't know why I suddenly feel nervous. I had no trouble sleeping.”  
  
"That's true. I could tell from the snoring."  
  
Again Wanda ignored him and applied her lipstick.  
  
Timothy looked in the mirror above the dresser to check his tie. He wasn't happy with the way the knot came out and begun to retie it.  
  
"Perhaps because you're meeting our three most promising candidates?"  
  
" _We_ are meeting the most promising candidates," Wanda corrected as she began to adjust the other earring.  
  
"You're doing the interviewing. I'm observing -- from a short distance away."  
  
Wanda winked at him in the mirror. "Backing out already?”  
  
"Absolutely not!" exclaimed Timothy indignantly.  
  
"I thought the original plan was for us _both_ to do the interviewing.” Wanda sniffed in mock indignation. “Somehow it evolved into me doing the interviewing while you have a nice snack, read the paper and eavesdrop!"  
  
Timothy caught her eye in the mirror and suppressed a smile. "This is your show, darling.” He kept fiddling with his tie. “It's your ad these women have responded to and it's you they're expecting to meet -- not the prospective father-in-law. How would it look if I were to suddenly show up?"  
  
"They'll have to meet you sooner or later,” she retorted.  
  
"If that's how you feel, then you might as well invite Ben to join us!"  
  
Wanda stared at him. "I see your point."  
  
"Besides, I also look upon this as a mission to try all the different pastries at Paul's! I dare say I'm well on my way to having tasted them all, and I'm particularly fond of the palmiers." He smacked his lips and waggled his eyebrows.  
  
Wanda sighed and began to brush her hair while Timothy put on his sports coat.  
  
"Here, let me," Wanda said as she turned to him and straightened his tie. "You look very distinguished."  
  
"Thank you. Flattery will get you breakfast at Laduree."  
  
Wanda picked up the folder containing the resumes and photos and put it in a large black leather tote bag.  
  
"I'm not at all hungry and I've got three meals ahead of me! Whose idea was it to interview this group over a meal?"  
  
"Yours," rejoined Timothy. "You said this would enable you to check out their table manners. I rather like the idea. To be honest, I was getting tired of meeting over coffee."  
  
"Care to tell me what your covert surveillance technique is going to be this time?” Wanda rolled her eyes. “Laduree isn't big. It only has a handful of tables that are quite close together."  
  
Timothy beamed. “I'll be happy to demonstrate.” He picked up a newspaper, opened it to hide his face and peeked round at Wanda. "I'm going to sit close by. My back will be to the girl and I can hear everything," he explained.  
   
"I see. Same old technique." Wanda put her brush away and straightened her jacket. "You have, I hope, a backup plan for Quince and the Orangery? The tables are configured so you have to sit beside us."  
  
"Even better!" Timothy refolded his newspaper. "That way I can see and hear everything."  
  
"I hope this works. We've invested so much time in these birds," said Wanda as they headed for the foyer. "One of them has got to be what we're looking for."  
  
Timothy smiled at his wife and held the door open for her.  
  
"Show time!" 

  
  
  
  
  
Wanda and Timothy stood just inside the entrance to Laduree. They walked through the store and scouted the tables in the art-deco black and white room in the back. All the tables were in a side-by-side configuration.   
  
"Looks like we go directly to Plan B," said Timothy.  
  
"How about up there?" suggested Wanda as she pointed to a small balcony that overlooked the front of the store.  "More private and quiet than this room, I'd say."  
  
"Perfect. We should have a good view of the door from up there," agreed Timothy as they approached the greeter.  
   
"Bonjour, Madame et Monsieur. How many?"  
  
"Three. We'd like to sit upstairs, please," responded Timothy.    
  
The greeter led them upstairs and gave them two tables for two that had been pushed together. When he left, Timothy pushed the tables apart by a foot.  Wanda sat facing out. Timothy did likewise at the table next to her. The area was done up in red and the small round wooden tables had comfortable red velvet armchairs.   
  
"Oh, this is a good spot. We'll be able to see her when she comes in," said Timothy.  
  
The server quickly brought menus and water. Wanda told him she was waiting for someone to join her while Timothy pretended to be alone and unfolded his newspaper.  
   
"She's late," huffed Wanda, checking her watch. She tapped the dial for emphasis. "It's quarter past nine already."  
  
"Jolly good! She'll fit right in with Benedict. They can be late for everything together." Timothy chuckled behind his paper. "Who are we not-so-patiently waiting for?"  
  
"Jessica DeHaviland. She's the actress from Camden. We're meeting her here because she has an early morning audition a few blocks away."  
  
"Two auditions in one day," mused Timothy. "A job _and_ a husband."  
  
"Glad to see you're enjoying yourself," huffed Wanda.  "I still don't like the idea of Ben hooking up with an actress if it can be avoided."  
  
"Are you still bothered by that?"  
  
"A little. I'm trying not to be, but the warning bells keep going off."  
  
Timothy took a small sip of his water. "There's nothing wrong with our relationship."  
  
"We're the exception."  
  
They sat watching the door as several people came in at the same time. None of them appeared to be Jessica DeHaviland.  
  
"Did you see those pastries when we came in?" Wanda turned her attention to the sweets displayed in the counters below. "Would it look bad if I just had a hot chocolate and a plate of macarons?"  
  
Timothy lightly touched Wanda's forearm and pointed to the door. "Look. I believe our bird just flew in." That woman was obviously looking for someone.  "That must be her."  
  
Wanda frowned and looked at the headshot in her folder.  She angled the photo so Timothy could look at it.  
  
"It's her, but she doesn't look too much like her photo," she said.  
  
"She's much prettier in person," said Timothy.  "Maybe it's not her. You described yourself to her, yes?"  
  
"Of course I did!  I shouldn't be that hard to pick out. How many women with dyed blonde hair wearing brightly-colored scarves could there be here?"  
  
Wanda observed the woman, who was wearing a wrinkled beige dress and bright magenta shrug sweater over it.  She was swaying alarmingly on high-heeled mustard colored shoes.  She had a royal blue hobo bag slung over her shoulder and carried a purple portfolio.  Suddenly, she looked up, spied Wanda and waved.  Wanda beckoned to the woman to come upstairs and join her.   
  
Timothy smiled widely at Wanda.  
  
"Don't say it," she hissed.   
  
"It won't bother her that Benedict doesn't believe in ironing."  
  
"Stop!"  
  
"She looks like a rainbow. He won't be able to count on her to help him dress, either."  
  
"How about you use your acting skills and pretend you don't know me?"  
  
The woman approached the table and smiled brightly at Wanda.  Wanda offered her hand and noted that Jessica had a blinding white smile.  
  
 _Tooth whitening,_ thougth Wanda.  
  
"I'm Wanda. Thank you for coming."  
  
"Thank you for picking me," Jessica said in a deep, sultry voice.  "Sorry I'm late, but the fucking prick who ran the auditions kept me for last! I hope the next one goes better than that!  The fucker knew I had another appointment! Anyway, I've got to use the loo, so I'll be right back."  
  
Timothy and Wanda watched as she tottered off to the restroom.  
  
Timothy smiled widely at Wanda.  
  
"Please don't say it," warned Wanda, raising her hand.  
  
"She even sounds like Benedict AND swears. I'm really liking her."  
  
"Shut up, Tim."  
  
"However, I might have trouble telling which one was calling on my mobile.  Her voice might actually be deeper than Ben's."  
  
Wanda shot him a withering look as the server approached.   
  
"I'm ready to order," Timothy said briskly to the server. "Plain omelet and chips, tomato juice and cafe Americano."  
  
Several minutes later the server returned with Timothy's coffee and juice.  He opened the newspaper and pretended to be absorbed in it.  
  
Once Jessica had settled at the table, Wanda turned her attention to the hovering waiter.  
  
"I'll have a chocolate pistachio croissant and hot chocolate," said Wanda. "Please feel free to order whatever you fancy, Jessica."  
  
Wanda heard her phone's text chime go off.  
  
 _That's an awful lot of chocolate first thing in the morning._  
  
Wanda glimpsed at her husband.  He was frowning disapprovingly. She quickly typed back a text.  
  
 _Bugger off._  
  
She could hear Timothy cluck his tongue beside her.  He put his mobile back in his pocket.  
  
Jessica considered Wanda's invitation for a moment and then placed her order.   
  
"I'll have an omelet with ham, mushrooms, cheese and tomatoes.  An order of chips and a croissant with raspberry jam, too.  To drink I'll have an orange oolong tea and large fresh orange juice."   
  
"Healthy appetite," Timothy mumbled as he sipped his juice. "Eats more than Benedict, too."  
  
Wanda picked up her mobile and smiled pleasantly at Jessica.  
  
"Please excuse me for a moment."  
  
Wanda began to text furiously and hit send.  She noticed Timothy squirm when his mobile vibrated in his trouser pocket.   
  
Timothy took his time removing his phone and looked at the text.  
  
 _I heard that. Be quiet. You're distracting me._  
  
Jessica smiled at Wanda and then beckoned to the server.  
  
"Can I also have a pain au chocolat - they look so good."  
  
Wanda's text alert went off.  
  
 _Bet you five quid she eats more than Ben. I do think she's taking advantage of a free meal._  
  
Wanda caught a glimpse of Timothy smiling as he added cream and sugar to his coffee.   She set her mobile phone on vibrate.  
  
Once the server had gone, Wanda opened her folder and set an NDA in front of Jessica.  
  
"I'll need you to please sign this before we begin."  
  
Jessica picked up the NDA.  She appeared to study it carefully.  
  
"Why should I sign this? I'm not going to say anything. What are you afraid of?"  
  
"Because this is a very confidential conversation, and I don't want it being broadcast over the Internet," said Wanda sternly.  
  
Jessica glanced around the room and laughed nervously.  
  
"Believe me, Wanda, I'd die if anyone found out I had stooped this low to find a man.  I guess your son feels the same way, otherwise why would he have his mother try and find him a wife? As you like."  
  
Jessica shrugged and made a production of signing the papers with an overly exaggerated flourish.  She noticed Wanda watching her. Wanda caught Timothy watching out of the corner of her eye.  His shoulders were shaking from trying to suppress a laugh.  
  
"I always sign things as if I'm giving an autograph. It keeps me in practice."  
  
Timothy coughed and began to text.  
  
Wanda felt her mobile vibrate under her hand.  She ignored it until the server brought their drinks.  Then she took a glance.  
  
 _This just keeps getting better and better!  What self-respecting actress would practice her autograph?_  
  
Timothy noticed that Wanda's cheeks had reddened slightly.  
  
Just then the food arrived.  Jessica tucked in like she hadn't eaten in a week, and Wanda took a dainty bite of her croissant.  What she really wanted was to shove it in her mouth and order another one.  
  
"I love their food!  This is such a treat!" Jessica exclaimed as she chomped on her omelet.   
  
Wanda noticed that Jessica ate with her mouth open.  The actress was not making a good impression so far.  
  
"You look different from your photo," Wanda observed as she poured some hot milk into the thick, rich, melted chocolate.  
  
"Oh, yeah.  I have to get new headshots," said Jessica around a mouthful of half-chewed food.  "My parents gave me a new nose for my birthday, Botox for Christmas and teeth whitening for my Uni graduation."  
  
Wanda felt her mobile vibrate.  She glanced over as Timothy chewed a mouthful of chips.  He was trying very hard not to laugh.  
  
 _Ben will never be at a loss for gifts.  He can give her a tummy tuck after the children are born - what an anniversary gift that would make!  Maybe a face lift for their 25th._  
  
Jessica quickly finished her food and moved onto the croissant.  She ate it in two bites and licked the chocolate from her fingers.  Then she slurped her tea and burped.  
  
"Oh, my.  She hoovered that up fast. So much for the table manners." thought Wanda as she glanced at her mobile, which had vibrated.   
  
 _Not only did she just prove she can eat Ben under the table, but at record speed.  You can pay me the five quid later. LOL._  
  
  


  
  
James Rhodes and Benedict Cumberbatch extinguished their cigarettes before entering Laduree.   
  
"I thought you had quit this nasty little vice of ours," said James.  
  
"I have for the most part.  I only took a few drags.  I haven't smoked in the morning for a long time - you're a bad influence," laughed Benedict.  
  
James fixed him with a puzzled expression and scratched his cheek.  
  
"Then that was a mirage at the pub the other night! I could swear you were doing your best to keep up with me."  
  
"I didn't want you to smoke alone. If you had really been paying close attention, you would've noticed that I only took a couple of drags each time I lit up."  
  
"You're a better man than I," laughed James.  He held the door open for Benedict. "After you, mate."  
  
Benedict and James walked into the store and over to the macaron display counter.   
  
"I won't be long," said Benedict. "I need to get a replacement box for my parents' anniversary."  
  
James stood with his hands in his pockets and frowned at Benedict.   
  
"Replacement box?  What was wrong with the ones you bought last week?"  
  
Benedict shrugged and smiled bashfully.  
  
"Um...nothing.  They were quite delicious, actually."  
  
"You mean to tell me you ate all of them?" James giggled loudly.  
  
The two women in the queue in front of them turned to glance at Benedict.  
  
"Shhh!  No.  I didn't!" exclaimed Benedict.  He moved closer to his companion and lowered his voice.  "If you must know, yes, I ate all of them."  
  
"How many were in the box?"  
  
"I got two of each flavor."  
  
"That's a lot of fucking macarons."  
  
"Tell me about it.  I was nauseous afterwards."  
  
James regarded him with an amused expression and playfully smacked his arm.  
  
"Shame on you for eating your folks' gift!"  
  
The women turned and looked at Benedict disapprovingly.   
  
"Shhh!  You're making me sound like an awful person!"  
  
"I thought you would've had better self control. Someone who can only take two drags on a fag should be able to control himself when confronted by the temptation of a few macarons, no?"  
  
"I hadn't intended to.  I was reading and thought I'd just taste one.  It was the salted caramel one - delicious."  
  
"Oh, that is a good one," agreed James pushing his glasses up on his nose.   
  
"Before I knew it, I had tried the coffee and chestnut."  
  
"I like the rose and pistachio ones myself."  
  
"Those were good, too.  Before I knew it, I had eaten the whole fucking box! Tomorrow is their actual anniversary, and they're not going to be home; so I want to drop it off this afternoon."  
  
"Nothing like the last minute, eh, Cumberbatch? Time management was never one of your strong points," teased James.  
  
One of the women had turned to look at Benedict again with disapproval in her eyes.  Then she whispered something to her friend, and they both laughed.  
  
 _I've got to shut him up.  Now, they're laughing out loud at me!_  
  
"Piss off, Jimmy!"  
  
James would not be thwarted.  He was having too much fun at his friend's expense.  
  
"Your retorts lack creativity.  I know you can do better than that. The other night you came out with some word combinations that made even me blush."  
  
One of the women looked back over her shoulder at them.  
  
"Fuck off, wanker," hissed Benedict.  
  
"That's a bit of an improvement, but I sense your heart's not entirely in it."  
  
Finally, it was Benedict's turn.  He smiled at the pretty girl behind the counter.  
  
"Bonjour, I would like two boxes of macarons, s'il vous plait. One's for a gift. Tes yeux sont comme deux beaux choux ronds," he added with a devilish wink.  
  
"You must like cabbages alot, Monsieur," she said cheerfully and added under her breath, "Dumb wanker."  
  
He heard James laughing beside him.  
  
  
  
  
  
Timothy finished the sports section and folded the newspaper.  He ate some more omelet and chips. Wanda was extolling Benedict's many virtues to Jessica, when he looked down below and froze, fork midway to his mouth.  
  
 _I must be seeing things._  
  
Timothy blinked and looked again to be sure.  
  
 _No! What on earth is he doing here?_  
  
Wanda felt the phone vibrate beneath her hand.  
  
"Excuse me. My husband's home with a cold."  She took a look at the message.  
   
 _Don't look now, but Ben's downstairs with James Rhodes at the macaron counter._  
  
Wanda looked up in a near panic.  Her face had blanched.  
  
"Is your husband okay?" asked Jessica with concern.  
  
Wanda craned her neck to look downstairs.  It was indeed Benedict standing in front of the macaron counter making a purchase. His close friend, James Rhodes, the concert pianist, was beside him saying something that had them both laughing.   
  
"Oh nothing," replied Wanda distractedly as she typed a response to Timothy.  She hoped Jessica wouldn't notice.  "My husband can't find the throat lozenges."  
  
 _Maybe they just came in to get some macarons and they'll leave._  
  
 _Don't count on it.  You know how those two love to eat.  They should have been food critics._  
  
Timothy and Wanda worriedly watched as the pair conversed below and then headed towards the counter where they served coffee and sweets.  
  
"Bollocks!" muttered Wanda under her breath.  
  
  
  
  
  
James stood with his hands on his hips, looking longingly at the various pastries in the display case.  Benedict joined him as soon as he finished paying.  He was holding a shopping bag.  
  
"Fancy a coffee and pastry?" asked James.  "They look so good."  
  
Benedict looked at the luscious looking offerings in the display case.   
  
"We just finished breakfast a little while ago," he lamented.  "I'm still full."  
  
"My sweet tooth is aching for a St. Honore Rose Frambroise.  We can each get a coffee and share one," suggested James hopefully.  "I promise to stop with the teasing, even if you are a first-class wanker."  
  
Benedict ignored him and read the description aloud:  
  
"'Puff pasty, choux pastry, light rose petal cream, raspberry compote, fresh raspberries and rose water Chantilly cream.'  Wow, wow, wow.  I think I may want my own."  
  
"I thought you were full from breakfast?"  
  
Benedict laughed and patted his stomach.  
  
"I'm such a tart when it comes to sweets.  There's always room.  Are you sure you have time?  I'm not meeting my agent until noon."  
  
James looked at his watch.   
  
"I don't have to be at the Steinway store for another hour.  Let's make it quick."  
  
"We can sit at the counter," suggested Benedict.  "Then we can continue our chat."  
  
  
  
  
Wanda and Jessica spent the next half-hour in conversation over a second round of hot chocolate and tea.  Wanda was asking the questions, and Jessica was providing the answers Wanda wanted to hear. Wanda was getting the distinct impression that the woman's answers had been carefully rehearsed.  She also noticed that the woman kept staring at her.  
  
Timothy pretended to read his newspaper as he kept watch over Benedict and his friend below.  They were busy chatting away over their coffees and eating pink pastries.  
  
After the server had cleared the empty plates, Wanda noticed that Jessica was still staring at her.  She was now beginning to feel somewhat uncomfortable.  
  
"Can I ask you something, Wanda?"  
  
Wanda looked at her.  
  
"By all means. Go ahead."  
  
"Are you Wanda Ventham, the actress?"  
  
Timothy loudly cleared his throat beside her.   
  
Wanda hesitated for a second having been blindsided by the question.  
  
"Yes, I am."  
  
"Oh my God!  My father loves you!  He's seen everything you've ever done.  When I was little we used to watch you on Dr. Who.  Just wait until I tell him I met you! Wanda Ventham!  And you're still alive!  He won't believe it!"  
  
Wanda heard Timothy snicker beside her as he folded up his newspaper.  He signaled for another refill of his coffee.  
  
"You can't tell him.  You just signed an NDA.  This meeting is secret."  
  
Jessica laughed and waved her hand at Wanda.  
  
"Oh, please!  Does anyone really take those DNA things seriously?  How about you give me your autograph and your secret's safe?"  
  
"It's an NDA," corrected Wanda as she adjusted her scarf around her neck.  
  
"Whatever. So how about it? You would make my Dad so happy!"  
  
"I suppose."  
  
Jessica removed a pen and blank sheet of paper from her bag and offered it to Wanda to sign.  "My dad's name is Mervin."  
  
Wanda felt the phone vibrate under her hand.  
  
 _It's been awhile since you've given an autograph, don't you want to practice first?_  
  
Jessica carefully patted her lips on the napkin, folded it and took out her mobile.  She cleared her throat as she watched Wanda write a message and autograph.  
  
Wanda didn't have to look at the phone to know Timothy had sent a text. She gave the paper back to Jessica and looked at the phone.  
  
 _I see you're gave him the deluxe edition - autograph AND message.  Well done, you!_  
  
"Would it be too much to ask for a photo, Wanda?"  
  
Suddenly, Timothy leaned over, wearing his most winning smile.  
  
"Excuse me, Miss.  I couldn't help but overhear.  I'd be happy to take a photo for you," he said holding out his hand to Jessica.  
  
"Oh, thank you!" exclaimed Jessica handing him her camera phone.  "My dad just won't believe it!"  
  
She scrambled out of her chair and squatted down beside Wanda's chair.  After fluffing her hair, she leaned in close to Wanda so their heads were side-by-side.  
  
Wanda glared at her husband.  
  
"Smile, ladies!" instructed Timothy as he aimed the camera.  He looked at the photo he had taken and then offered it to Jessica to approve.  "I think it came out rather well."  
  
"Yes!  It did!  Can we get just one more of you alone?  Would you mind?"  
  
Wanda opened her mouth to protest, but Jessica had handed the camera back to Timothy, who smiled at her and winked.  
  
"Of course not!  Okay.  One-two-three-smile," said Timothy as he took another photo. "Oh, may I just say that I'm also guilty of being a big fan of yours, Miss Ventham."   
  
Wanda smiled thinly and nodded.  
  
"Would you like me to take a photo for you?" Jessica asked Timothy excitedly.  
  
Wanda stared at her husband and willed him to shut up.  It didn't work.  
  
"That would be brilliant! If that's all right with you, Miss Ventham?" Timothy asked.  "My wife won't believe it either.  She's probably your biggest fan."  
  
 _You're going to be sorry, Timothy._  
  
As Jessica handed the phone back to Timothy, he felt a sharp pain in his ankle.  He immediately shot his wife a look.  
  
Wanda sat there serenely sipping her hot chocolate.  
  
  
  
  
"There is someone that I want you to meet," began James as he swallowed a bite of his pastry.  He glanced sideways at Benedict.  
  
Benedict raised his eyebrows questioningly as he chewed.  
  
"Someone who is of the female gender?"  
  
James smiled so his deep dimples showed.  
  
"Might be."  
  
"Will she be at your concert?"  
  
"There's a good chance. I met her at the Steinway Store last week while I was practicing. She stopped to listen to me, and then we got to chatting. We wound up exchanging numbers, so I'm currently in the process of gathering up the courage to ask her out. We really seemed to it it off, so I'm feeling pretty encouraged.  By the way, I have your tickets.  Let me give them to you before I forget."  James reached into his pocket and pulled a small envelope containing two tickets.  
  
Benedict looked them over and put one back on the counter.  
  
"I'll only be using one," said Benedict as he took another forkful of pastry.  
   
James' face wore a puzzled expression.     
  
"You're not bringing anyone then? What about the marketing exec you've been seeing?" inquired James as he signaled for more coffee.  "Her name's Beth, if I recall."  
  
"Nope.  I ended it. I told you at the pub."  
  
"You told me a lot at the pub.  Sometimes it's hard to keep up with you."  
  
"She basically thought my lifestyle was dangerous and harmful to my health."  
  
"Well, it is," James deadpanned.  "But who am I to throw stones? I smoke my fags down to the filter."  
  
 _Don't remind him, Benedict.  Let it lay. You'll regret it. Keep it to yourself._  
  
Benedict sighed deeply.  
  
"She was the biter."  
  
James started to giggle and slapped his hand down on the counter.  "YES!  Oh my God! The biter!  How could I forget? Do you still have the welts on your arse?"  
  
The server looked at them as she poured more coffee for James. There was a couple beside them who were trying not to look at them.  
  
"Shut up!" said Benedict.  "For fuck's sake - the whole place doesn't have to know."  
  
"Sorry," James was trying very hard not to lose it.  His eyes were starting to tear up. "See, I did listen."  
  
"I'm very proud of you," said Benedict sarcastically. "Since you're so damn  cheeky, go on. What else?"  
  
"Tapped her nails incessantly. Bitched that you only had a white bloomer. Didn't share your love of caffeine.  Shamed you for not having a full jar of honey. All healthy, all the time," James recited.  
  
"The very one."  
  
James shook his head. "Fuck her - not literally.  I'm not sorry to hear then. That didn't last long, did it?"  
  
"Nope.  I had to break it off or I was going to kill her.  Prison's not an option for me," laughed Benedict harshly.  
  
James pushed the ticket back towards Benedict.   
  
"You've got plenty of female friends, Benedict.  Why not ask one of them?  If all fails, ask Ackland to go.  Did it ever occur to you that you might meet someone between now and the concert?"  
  
Benedict rested his index finger on his upper lip and pondered the question.  
  
"It would take an act of God to find the right girl.  In the interim I've decided to keep celibate."  
  
James spat his coffee all over the counter. The server pretended not to see the spill.  He and Benedict began to mop up the coffee, both trying and failing not to laugh.  
  
"Shame on you! I can't take you anywhere!" exclaimed Benedict in mock horror.  
  
"Jesus!  You might have warned me not to drink if you were going to tell me that!"  
  
"Ah, but then it wouldn't have had the desired affect," declared Benedict, laughing.  
  
James rolled his eyes.  
  
"That'll never happen.  You're such a perpetually horny bastard."  
  
Both men giggled.  
  
The server looked at them again as she placed the bill in between them.  They ignored her while attempting to compose themselves.  
  
"I think she wants us to leave," said Benedict dryly.  
  
"Please take the other ticket," said James. "You never know what can happen between now and then."  
  
Benedict took the ticket back and put it in the envelope with the other one.  
  
James picked up the bill and opened his wallet the same time that Benedict did.  
  
"Let me get it," said Benedict holding out his hand.  
  
"Next time," said James as he got off the stool.  "I'd better get going.  I hadn't realized we talked that much!"  
  
As they walked towards the front of the store, James happened to look up at the balcony.  He stopped and poked Benedict, who was eyeing one of the pretty servers.  
  
"Hey, isn't that your parents, Benedict?"   
  
Benedict's eyes followed where James was pointing up at the balcony.  It was indeed his parents sitting up there.  His mother was talking to another woman and his father was reading the newspaper.  
  
"I wonder what they're doing here?"  
  
"Breakfast?" said James sarcastically.  
  
Benedict looked puzzled for a moment, and then realization came over him.  
  
 _Oh, it must be about Mum's memoirs.  Don't tell him._  
  
"I bet she's discussing her book deal."  
  
James looked surprised.  
  
"Your mum's writing a book?"  
  
"Yeah.  I'm not supposed to say anything, but she was approached to write her memoirs.  I know her agent and that's not her.  Maybe that's the ghost writer," said Benedict.  "I guess things are moving along so she told my dad."  
  
"Well done her.  Let's go up there, so I can say hello and offer congratulations," said James.  
  
"No, we can't go up there!" said Benedict tugging James' arm.  "I wasn't supposed to tell you about the book, and besides I want to surprise them with the macarons.  I don't want them to see me."  
  
James shrugged and headed for the door.  
  
"I understand. Give them my love."  
  
"Absolutely.  I plan to stop by this afternoon as soon as I'm done with the rehearsal."  
  
  
  
  
An hour later after Jessica had thoroughly quizzed Wanda about acting and her career, the couple found themselves in a cab on their way to the next interview at the May Fair Hotel.  Wanda sat back with her eyes closed.  
  
"I'd say that went rather well," said Timothy sarcastically.   
  
"Says you," snapped Wanda. "Don't be flip, Tim.  I wasn't supposed to be giving her acting tips."  
  
"My ankle still hurts where you kicked it," complained Timothy as he rubbed his ankle.  He looked at the photo Jessica had taken of them with his mobile.  "I think we came out rather well, don't you?  We could make it this year's Christmas card."  
  
Wanda took the mobile, looked at the photo and handed it back to him.  
  
"I look angry."  
  
"You were."  
  
Wanda ignored him.  
  
"She came off fine when I was interviewing her.  I was starting to warm to her. Then I realized that something wasn't quite right."  
  
"That's because she was acting and not very good at it.  I wasn't kidding when I said she was going to audition for you," Timothy said taking her hand in his and kissing it.   "The bad thing is she's always on.  She'd probably act in bed, too.  Ben doesn't need that."   
  
"Speaking of Ben, I never would have expected him to turn up like that.  We were lucky he didn't see us," said Wanda as she rummaged in her handbag for a breath mint.   
  
"Don't be so sure.  I could have sworn that James saw us."  
  
"They would have come up to say hello if he had.  James has lovely manners," said Wanda.  "And Ben would never ignore us."  
  
They rode in silence for a few minutes until Wanda broke the silence.  
  
"I think I'm afraid to meet the next one. "I hope she's better than Jessica."  
  
"Perhaps you should have brought along some of your headshots to autograph, you never know when you're going to come across another Dr. Who groupie."  
  
"Shut up, Tim.  Please. If you don't want both of your ankles to be black and blue. "  
  


 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My daughter and I had lunch at Laduree. The location I describe is in Harrods. I had the raspberry cake that Benedict and James had and it was delicious. I don't know James Rhodes. His personality is based on his tweets and interviews, the rest is a figment of my imagination. I picture him and Benedict bringing out the inner child in each other.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanda meets a force to be reckoned with. AKA Bird#2

 

Wanda Ventham and Timothy Carlton strolled into the opulent lobby of the May Fair Hotel, heading towards Quince Restaurant. The restaurant was moderately crowded when they arrived; however, having had called ahead and made reservations, they managed to get two side-by-side tables in a quiet corner.  
  
Once they were settled at their respective tables, Timothy took out his reading glasses. He picked up the menu. "We're a bit early."  
  
"I thought we were going to be late," said Wanda, quickly checking her makeup in her compact.  "I wasn't expecting a bloody detour at Waterstones!"  
  
"I needed something to read. I'm sick of the paper." Timothy perused the drinks menu. "And unlike _someone_ , it takes me all of five minutes to select a book!"  
  
"It was half an hour, Tim! And you wonder Benedict always loses track of the time. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree."  
  
Timothy coughed and changed the subject. "Nice place." He glanced around the room approvingly. "Very posh – with posh prices to match, I'm sure."  
  
"Oh, stop it, you—" Wanda suddenly leaned over and gripped Timothy's arm. "Look!" she whispered excitedly. "Over there on the right! Isn't that John Grant?"  
  
Timothy looked over. Indeed it was Benedict's agent, sitting alone at a table for two. The empty place was set with a menu.  
  
"It's fairly obvious he's waiting for someone."  
   
Wanda and Timothy exchanged horrified glances.  
  
"Heaven forbid!" Wanda fanned herself with the menu. "Ben didn't say anything about lunching with John this week."  
  
Timothy mopped the sweat that had suddenly appeared on his brow. "Darling, Ben doesn't tell us everything that goes on in his life. You're just jumping to conclusions." He set down his handkerchief. "John has plenty of other clients. What are the odds?"  
  
Wanda suddenly stiffened. Her arm gripped Timothy's like a tourniquet. "I'd say one hundred percent!"  
  
 Benedict stood at the entrance to the dining room, looking lost.  
  
"Fuck!" Timothy put his head in his hands. "What were the chances?"  
  
John waved at Benedict, who hurried over to the table without seeing his parents. The two men shook hands. Timothy and Wanda let out the breath they'd both been holding when—to their relief—Benedict sat with his back to them.  
  
"Thank God!" said Wanda. "He didn't see us and I doubt John will notice."  
  
"There's nothing we can do about it anyway," Timothy added with a sigh.  
  
Wanda laid her mobile on the table and rummaged in her tote. "And try not to text me. It's too obvious."  
  
"My mobile is set to shut up." Timothy grinned cheekily. "Happy?"  
  
Ignoring him, Wanda removed a folder from her tote and held a photo out to Timothy for inspection.  
  
Timothy adjusted his glasses. "Refresh my memory. What's her name?"  
  
Wanda beamed. "Samantha Alden-Thomas. Lives in St. John's Wood. Went to Wycombe Abbey for starters. Degree in business management from Oxford. According to her resume, she also has a Master's from Cambridge in business."  
  
"Posh. That's pretty impressive," said Timothy as he glanced over at Benedict and his agent, both of whom appeared to be engrossed in the lunch menu. Benedict said something and the two laughed uproariously.  
  
"So we know she's got the brains to keep up with Ben," Wanda was saying.  
  
Timothy snickered. "Right. She can fill out his VAT and do his taxes."  
  
"Her resume sounds too good to be true. I don't want to get my hopes up," said Wanda with an anxious glance at her watch. "It's noon already."  
  
"And I do believe she has arrived," Timothy said, opening his book.  
  
Samantha was tall and slender. Her blonde hair was cut into a fashionable chin-length bob, and Wanda noted with satisfaction that her two-piece suit was obviously bespoke. From the expertly-applied makeup to the understated jewelry, everything about her spoke of perfection and good taste.  
  
"Would you look at her! She can certainly give Ben fashion advice," said Wanda under her breath. "She's perfect!"  
  
"Looks like a Stepford wife," muttered Timothy.  
  
"What was that, sir?" asked a server who had materialized seemingly from nowhere; he looked very nervous.  
  
"Oh, er! A knife," stammered Timothy, quickly dodging Wanda's foot. "I dropped my knife."  
  
Samantha stopped and glared at the server. "Wallace, these guests have been sitting here far too long without beverage service," she said coldly as she indicated Wanda and Timothy.  
  
The server's face reddened. "They've only just got here," he protested.  
  
"I think not! They had a reservation for noon and arrived at 11:45. I saw them walk in. Clearly you weren't at your station."  
  
"I–I–" Wallace stammered, his face reddening further.  
  
"Our policy is to greet guests _immediately_ with water. You've already failed to give them the optimum Quince experience," said Samantha with icy contempt, her eyes flashing. "You are relieved of your station. We shall discuss this unacceptable behavior at three in my office—if you can be on time!"  
  
Wanda couldn't help but gawk. Her heart went out to the embarrassed young man. _Good lord! I could see her dressing down Ben like that if he were late for a date!_  
  
Ignoring her audience, Samantha continued, "Never forget that this is _the_ May Fair and we have the highest standard to uphold. Customer satisfaction is paramount." Her nostrils flared as she looked the young man up and down. "Your shirt's wrinkled. You can borrow an iron from housekeeping on your way out."  
  
Wanda shuddered. _Ben's aversion to irons won't go over well either!_  
  
Timothy had picked up the drinks menu again. His brow furrowed.  
  
"Send over Marian to take care of these two tables. Gratis. I'll take it out of your pay."  
  
Wanda's phone buzzed. Samantha was too busy with the server to notice.  
  
 _Jolly good! Free lunch for us!_ Timothy shot her a big smile.  
  
 _Is that all you can think about?_  
  
 _Have you looked at the menu?_  
  
Wanda glanced across at Timothy with a worried expression. He put his mobile back in his pocket.  
  
"That will be all, Wallace," said Samantha dismissively as she turned her attention to Timothy.  
  
"I'm so sorry you weren't treated properly, sir. I'm Samantha Alden-Thomas, General Manager of the May Fair. Please accept my profound apologies and enjoy your meal on the house." She offered Timothy a blindingly white smile and her hand. His arthritic knuckles screamed for mercy in her vice-like grip.  
  
"Thank you," he said, wincing.   
  
Wanda couldn't quite suppress a chuckle.  
  
Samantha released his hand, beamed and went over to Wanda. "Samantha Alden-Thomas."  
  
"Wanda Ventham," replied Wanda, offering up her hand to the slaughter.   
  
 _Christ! I hope I can use my arm after this._  
  
Wanda caught Timothy's shoulders shaking out the corner of her eye.  
  
The new server approached Timothy; he ordered the lobster tail-and-claw salad and a Quince martini.  
  
Samantha took the seat opposite Wanda. "Well, I'm very glad we could meet in person. I believe my resume speaks for itself. I'm in a bit of a crunch as I have a meeting at two, so let me start off by asking you some questions—"  
  
"Actually," interrupted Wanda, "I still have some questions for you."  
  
Samantha looked taken aback. "Really? As you like, then. Let's order some lunch first. Marian?"  
  
Marian, who had been hovering close by, immediately came to stand by Samantha's side. "What can we get you, Madam?"  
  
Wanda perused the menu for a moment. She glanced over at Timothy's salad. It had large, succulent chunks of lobster and avocado that he seemed to be relishing immensely. Her mouth watered.  
  
 _She's paying. I might as well live it up!_  
  
"The lobster tail-and-claw salad sounds good. And a Black Pearl Bellini, please."

  
"I'll have the same," instructed Samantha. "Have the kitchen expedite the order."

 

  
  
  
  
The server placed the crispy soft-shell crab and langostine risotto in front of Benedict and the bouillabaisse in front of his agent.  
  
Benedict placed the contract he'd been reading off to the side and turned his attention to the plate before him. "This looks amazing."  
  
John raised his glass of white wine in a toast.  
  
"To the success of _Sherlock_. May it be a mutually profitable experience for us both!"  
  
"Cheers," said Benedict with a smile. They clinked glasses.   
  
The two men sipped their wine. If Benedict wasn't much of a wine connoisseur his agent certainly was – John had spent a good five minutes educating him on the particular wine they were drinking.  
  
"I wish I were as knowledgeable as you about wine! I only know if it tastes good," laughed Benedict as he cut into his crab. The crispy coating crackled pleasantly and the sweet scent of crab filled his nostrils. He forked up some risotto and speared a piece of crab. "Mmm! Better than amazing."  
  
"I'm hardly an expert, Benedict. I learned by asking the sommelier to recommend their favourite. I've seldom been disappointed," said John with a smile.  
  
Benedict indicated the final revision of the contract with his head. "I can scarcely believe you got me that much money."  
  
"Thank you. Beryl Vertue is a force to be reckoned with."  
  
"She was such a sweet woman when I auditioned at her flat! She made me tea and biscuits."  
  
John smiled and shook his head as he swallowed a mouthful of halibut. "Appearances can be deceiving. She's a tigress when it comes to negotiating. The Moffats and Mark Gatiss were also present." He chuckled. "I needed a stiff scotch by the time we were done."  
  
Benedict sipped his wine and took another mouthful of crab and risotto. The risotto was nice and buttery and the juicy langostino pieces were cooked to perfection.  
  
"I see they want me to maintain a certain weight," he said carefully as he cut up some more crab. "It's less than I weigh now."  
  
"Sherlock is very lean."  
  
Benedict looked mournful. "I'm going to have to watch what I eat."  
  
"It'll be worth it." John spooned up more bouillabaisse. "This show has the potential to be a big hit, and ultimately your big break."  
  
"They also want me to grow my hair and dye it dark. And I'm not to touch it afterward!"  
  
"Mm. They won't yield a bit on that, though you do have some input as to the actual shade. Sherlock's a creature of the night and you must look the part," John said as he pulled a Mont Blanc pen from his jacket.  
  
Benedict made a face. "What if I want to do something else during that timeframe?"  
  
"If you're doing voice work that hardly matters, Benedict."  
  
"What about that play we've discussed? _A Season for Love_."  
  
"That's what you pay me for. If you get the role – and you are perfect for it –I'll tell them that you can't alter your hair due to a commitment. They'll have to take you as is." John winked. "Trust me."  
  
Benedict nodded and kept eating. He sipped some more wine. Then he indicated the contract again with his free hand.  
  
"Do you realise they want me to grow it even longer than the pilot?"  
  
"Yes. They want a more...Byronesque look."  
  
"Shit," muttered Benedict. "I'm going to look like my mum."  
  
"I could think of worse women to look like" John chuckled and wiped his mouth on his napkin. "Your mum's still an attractive woman. Speaking of which, isn't that her over there?"

  
  
  
  
  
Wanda handed Samantha a copy of the NDA. It took her what seemed like ten minutes to read it over, and when their drinks arrived Wanda sipped hers gratefully.  
  
"This looks to be in order," said Samantha briskly as she signed the papers and gave Wanda back her copy.   
  
"Thank you." Wanda tucked the paper in her tote. "Now, do you have experience running a household?"  
  
Samantha gestured to her surroundings and laughed as if Wanda had lost her mind. "Well, I _am_ the General Manager of the May Fair Hotel. If I can run a hotel, I can certainly manage a household." She smiled condescendingly.  
  
"How many children would you want?"  
  
"Two would be my limit. Spaced two years apart."  
  
"Would you stay at home with them? My son is often away on business."  
  
"Heavens, no! That's what live-in nannies and boarding schools are for!" laughed Samantha. "I would never dream of giving up my job."  
  
"Do you cook, Samantha?"  
  
Again Samantha laughed. "Only when I absolutely have to. So, let's say for our purposes I cook upon request!" She gave Wanda a conspiratorial wink.  
  
Wanda saw Timothy open his book as he sipped his second drink. He smacked his lips, took a forkful of his salad and washed it down with some ice water.  
  
"Does your son cook?"  
  
"Oh, yes. He even has a small repertoire of recipes."  
  
"Right." Samantha leaned across the table conspiratorially. "So, just between you and me...why _are_ you interviewing prospective mates for your son? What's wrong with him?" She tucked her hair behind her ear. "I can deal with some defects, but let's have it up front."  
  
Timothy choked.  
  
Wanda sat up straight and bristled. _"Excuse me?"_  
  
Her tone sent a cold chill down Timothy's spine.  
  
 _Fucking hell. Benedict spotting us won't be the problem. Wanda's wrath will!_  
  
"There is nothing wrong with my son!" Wanda shot back angrily. "He's very busy so I'm giving him a hand!" She sat up straighter. "May I ask why you answered my ad? What's wrong with you?"  
  
 _Christ, tactful as usual,_ Timothy mused as he beckoned the server to order pudding and coffee. He'd had his eye on a rich-looking chocolate fudge cake.  
  
Samantha looked taken aback. She blushed but quickly recovered.  
  
"It's the same with me. I'm too busy to go out and meet anyone. I thought this way might be faster and easier."  
  
Wanda smiled at her coolly. "Touché."  
  
Samantha resumed her line of questioning and Timothy groaned.  
  
 _If they get together I'll have Barrister Ben **and** Barrister Betty to contend with!_  
  
"What does your son do for a living?"  
  
"He's an actor."  
  
Samantha frowned and raised a perfectly-plucked eyebrow.  
  
"Is he a working actor?"  
  
Timothy looked up and felt the blood drain from his face.  
  
 _Wrong thing to ask her,_ he thought as Marian served him coffee and cake.   
  
"Problem?" asked Wanda, her voice rising dangerously.  
  
"It could be. Let me be frank, Ms. Ventham. I make a very good living, but I have no intention of supporting your son while he sits around waiting for his next job."  
  
Timothy stopped fixing his coffee when he saw the gleam in his wife's ice blue eyes. He knew that look very well – Samantha was wading into dangerous water.   
  
 _Hell hath no fury like an insulted mother._  
  
"Excuse me, but my son has had steady work since he graduated from LAMBDA!" Wanda said haughtily. "He had an agent lined up before graduation. As a matter of fact, he just landed the lead in a new version of Sherlock Holmes."  
  
"May I ask his name?"  
  
"Benedict Cumberbatch."  
  
Samantha giggled. "I'd be embarrassed to be with a man with such an awful name! It is a stage name, isn't it?"  
  
Wanda sat up ramrod-straight and glared daggers at Samantha. Timothy could swear he saw smoke coming out of her ears.  
  
"Cumberbatch is my husband's surname! It's a perfectly fine and noble name. We took great care in choosing the name Benedict to go with it!" Wanda said indignantly, now on the verge of shouting. "We like it very much."  
  
Samantha sipped her drink thoughtfully. "He'd have to take mine. I'd never go through life as a Cumperbatch."  
  
Wanda grit her teeth. "Cumber _batch_!"  
  
"Sounds like a vegetable," Samantha said under her breath.  
  
Wanda sipped her drink icily.  
  
Timothy sipped his coffee, wishing he were somewhere else.  
  
The tension continued to hang in the air.  
  
Just then, Timothy noticed that Benedict's agent was pointing to them and Benedict had turned round to look. They smiled and waved to Timothy, who waved back with a tight smile.  
  
 _Just what we didn't need! Now he'll come over to see what's going on under the pretense of saying hello. Then I can explain how his mum and I thought it would be nice to find him a mate since he apparently can't do it himself and this woman is being interviewed for the position of his wife!_ _Holy fucking hell!_  
  
Finally Samantha spoke. "I've never heard of him. What has he done?"  
  
 _Oh, no,_ thought Timothy. _She's going to regret she asked._  
  
Mollified, Wanda smiled proudly and cleared her throat. "Since you ask..."  
  
It took Wanda over ten minutes to recite everything that Benedict had done to date while Timothy sipped his coffee and enjoyed watching Samantha try not to squirm from boredom.  
  
Finally, she held up a hand to silence Wanda. "Right! I believe you, Ms. Ventham. He's a _working_ actor. Do you have a photo?"  
  
"Oh, yes!" Wanda eagerly opened her folder and pulled out Benedict's headshot.  
  
Timothy continued to eat his cake whilst keeping an eye on Benedict's table, where he and his agent had gone back to whatever it was they were discussing. Suddenly he saw Benedict turn to look at him. He was holding his mobile and pointing to it. His face affected deep puzzlement.  
  
 _Oh, Christ! He's been texting me and my bloody mobile's on silent._  
  
Timothy removed his phone from his jacket and read:  
  
 _What's going on? Mum looks ticked off. B_  
  
 _They're just having a spirited discussion is all! D_  
  
 _Mum looks like she wants to deck her. B_  
  
 _There's always that possibility... D_  
  
 _Shall I come over? B_  
  
 _Only if it comes to fisticuffs, which I doubt. Stay where you are. It'll pass. Nothing to worry about. Slight difference of opinion. Enjoy your lunch. Regards to John. D_  
  
Timothy turned his attention back to his wife.  
  
Samantha had taken the photo and was studying it with amusement. She guffawed, looked up and handed the photo back to a surprised Wanda.  
  
"I see the problem now! Your son isn't very good looking, is he? Rather like a horse – such a long face. The eyes are creepy, too – almost preternatural-looking. He should consider fixing those teeth. The lips are very odd...how can I put this?" She wiped her eyes. "Are those tattoos or does he wear makeup? There's something rather unnatural-looking about your son. He's just not my cup of tea – no offense!"  
  
Wanda leapt to her feet. The table rocked precariously, causing glassware and china to crash to the floor; shards flew in all directions. All eyes in the dining room were suddenly on them.  
  
"Offense taken! I have never been so insulted! This meeting is over!" snapped Wanda.  
  
She packed up her tote in a huff and started to flounce off when she noticed that Timothy wasn't behind her. Rather, he was sitting at his table, placidly eating a slice of chocolate layer cake and drinking coffee as if he had all afternoon. She tried to catch his eye and he turned a page in his book.  
  
 _Bloody hell, he's not moving! Traitor! And I'm not done with Ms. Manager of **the** May Fair!_  
  
Her jaw clenched, Wanda stomped back to the table where Samantha was giving new instructions to the server. She leant down and hissed, "My son's too good for the likes of you, you snobby bitch!"  
  
Samantha's mouth hung open.  
  
"Coming, Timothy?" Wanda boomed in a voice that carried throughout the dining room.   
  
Samantha looked at Timothy, who smiled shyly and shrugged his shoulders before following Wanda past Benedict's table and out the restaurant.  
  


  
  
  
Benedict watched as his parents left the restaurant in a hurry while a server cleared the table.  
  
"Your mum certainly was angry," John said quietly. "Do you want to go out and see what's up?"  
  
 _That was an understatement,_ thought Benedict as he rubbed his thighs nervously. _It must be to do with the book deal._  
  
He thought for a minute and shook his head. "I think I know what happened but I'm not at liberty to say anything."  
  
John watched as the busboys continued to clean up the mess Wanda had left in her wake. He shrugged it off and returned his attention to Benedict's contract.  
  
"Okay. So, are you ready to sign? I heard Martin Freeman's already signed his," said John, offering the pen to Benedict. "Can't have Watson without his Sherlock."  
  
The server appeared with the coffee service and two chocolate creme brulees. He poured the hot brew into their cups. Benedict added cream and two lumps of demerara sugar to his coffee, then stirred it thoughtfully.  
  
"My mum's going to write her memoirs. She met with her ghostwriter this morning. That woman must be the literary agent."  
  
John looked up from his chocolate creme brulee. "I'm sure Wanda will have plenty of good anecdotes, but things didn't appear to be going smoothly."  
  
"Yeah. It actually looks like the book deal may have fallen through," said Benedict as he signed the contract. "The last time she got that angry was when a critic said I was horse-faced."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Well done, you!" said Timothy angrily, taking Wanda's arm once they had left the restaurant. "I thought you were going to knock the table over when you jumped up like that! She'll probably hunt you down and have the hotel solicitor present us with a bill for broken china and crystal. You're lucky there were no paparazzi lunching there or you would've had plenty of free publicity – and I'm not talking about the positive kind."  
  
"She was an arrogant, pompous bitch!" Wanda yanked her arm free. "She said my Benedict had a horse face! How dare she!"  
  
"I realise that. There's nothing worse than having your child insulted," Timothy soothed. "But she's not worth losing sleep over, Wanda. She was like a brigadier general. Ben certainly doesn't need a woman like that!"  
  
Wanda sniffed and flung her scarf dramatically over her shoulder as they headed for the exit.  
   
"By the way, that cake was scrumptious! So moist and delicate. I wish you could have tasted the frosting. It was like fudge. Pity I had to leave it." Timothy sighed mournfully.  
  
Wanda stopped and put her hands on her hips. "How can you talk about cake when that awful woman insulted your son's looks? He looks very much like you, you know."  
  
Timothy looked at her quizzically.  
  
"Does that mean I should feel insulted by proxy?"  
  
"Well, you and Benedict _do_ look alike."  
  
"I'm not insulted," said Timothy as they walked outside. "Besides, you think I'm nice-looking and that's what counts."  He smiled and squeezed her hand.  
  
Wanda smiled at him and squeezed back.   
  
"You know, Ben does look a bit like you too," Timothy added. "He's got your creepy preternatural eyes."  
  
Wanda laughed. "Oh, you."  
  
"By the way," Timothy held his hand out for a cab, "I assume you've forgotten your horse-faced child is still in the restaurant, lunching with his agent?"  
  
Wanda tapped her forehead with the heel of her hand. "Blimey! You're right. Do you think he saw the commotion?"  
  
Timothy rolled his eyes. "It was rather hard not to, love. You made quite the scene."  
  
"Damn. I'm surprised he hasn't come after us."  
  
"I wouldn't have come after us. I would have pretended I didn't know us," said Timothy sadly. "Here's our cab."  
  
Timothy held the door open for Wanda and gave the driver their address in Kensington.  
  
She patted his hand and got in. "I'm sorry you had to leave before you finished your pudding, Tim, but look at it this way – you can have all the cake you want at the Orangery. They have a spectacular sweets table. We're meeting the last one there at four. There's just enough time to go home and have a lie down before we meet her. Lord knows I could use one – and maybe another drink."  
  
"Damn! The first two were so promising I forgot there was a third."  
  
"I know." Wanda leaned back and shut her eyes.  
  
"You know, we don't have to go through with this, love," Timothy said quietly, sliding close to her.  "You can postpone or even cancel the tea. It's not like Benedict will ever know."  
  
Wanda thought and shook her head. "No. I feel I owe it to Ben to see this through. After meeting those two I completely understand his frustration!"  
  
Timothy gazed out the window at the passing scenery. He sighed, turned to her, smoothed her blonde hair off her forehead and kissed it.  
  
"Okay. We'll soldier on. Someday when we're putting our grandchildren to bed, I can tell them the story of how their parents met."  
  
Wanda smiled warmly at him. "You're so sentimental, Tim. That's what I love about you. And Benedict has that same quality about him." She snuggled into his shoulder. "And just what are you calling this story of yours?"  
  
"I'll call it the story of Goldilocks and the Three Birds."  
  
  
   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The depiction of Benedict's agent, John Grant, is purely fictional. Also, the play mentioned, 'A Season for Love', is purely a figment of my imagination.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the lovely comments and kudos! They are greatly appreciated. And now...Wanda meets Bird#3

 

Timothy Carlton and Wanda Ventham strolled arm-in-arm through Hyde Park towards Kensington Palace and the Orangery. Timothy noted his wife seemed to be in a particularly foul mood.  
  
"Feeling chipper after your lie down, are we?" Timothy smiled thinly.  
  
"I'm completely knackered.  I just couldn't drop off - I was so wound up from our counterproductive day," said Wanda.  
  
"Tell me about it.  I was the one sharing the bed with you.  All you did was toss and turn.  I was starting to get motion sickness," complained Timothy.  
  
"Fuck it!  You can do this interview. I'm not ready to do battle with another dolly bird," snapped Wanda peevishly.  
  
Timothy stopped to look at his wife.  
  
"You can't put the understudy into the show without a dress rehearsal. No way in bloody hell are you throwing me under the bus so you can then drive over me when I cock it up. I think not, my pet."  
  
"I've had breakfast with the world's worst actress and lunch with a general.   Wouldn't one be jaded after that?" Wanda sighed disgustedly.  
  
"May I remind you that hope springs eternal?" Timothy said gently. "Not to mention you may encounter more fans.  I brought along some of your headshots just in case."  
  
Wanda huffed and continued walking, ignoring the fan comment.  
  
"You only say that because you like the afternoon tea at the Orangery."  
  
Timothy smiled and nodded.  
  
"I have to have something to look forward to. Especially since you deprived me of my pudding at lunch."  
  
"And what do I have to look forward to?  Another crazy bitch who calls our son a horse-face and doesn't believe acting is a noble profession?"  Wanda's voice was starting to carry. "Maybe if I'm really lucky, I'll get another one who looks like she slept in the clothes dryer and eats like a pig."  
  
Timothy put his index finger to his lips.  "This is not a test to see how well you can project your voice in public, Wanda.  I assure you that you do a fine and splendid job of it."  He took her by the arm again.  "Now, buck up and let us endure."  
  
Wanda shook her head. "I'm the one enduring.  You're the one enjoying an eating tour of half the bloody city!"  
  
Timothy threw back his head and cackled.  "May I remind you, my love, that this was your idea!"  
  
Wanda fixed him with a look. "Why didn't you stop me?"  
  
Timothy looked at her incredulously.  His face turned red and he wagged his finger at her.  
  
"Wanda, please don't start-" he began.  
  
 _I hate it when he's right._  
  
"You're right, Tim.  I'm knackered and overreacting. I'm sorry," apologized Wanda.  
  
"I do love it when I hear those words - 'You are right, Tim'.  They give me such a warm, fuzzy feeling.  Care to tell me again?"  
  
"I think you've heard it enough already today.  I hope this interview goes better than the last one," lamented Wanda.  
  
"Come on!  We're early, so we'll have plenty of time to prepare ourselves for the onslaught. This is the last one. We'll try and make the best of it."  
  
The couple turned onto the path to that led to the Orangery.   
  
"I wonder if she's going to be late or on time," mused Wanda.  
  
"I'm hoping for on time. Do we have reservations, Wanda?"  
  
"Yes for two separate tables.  The man I spoke with assured me the tables would be next to each other."  
  
Timothy held open the door for his wife, and they entered the large, bright room.  The Orangery was busy with tourists and locals alike.  
  
"Ah, look at the sweets table!" said Timothy.  "I'm going to have a hard time deciding - bloody hell?"  
  
Wanda had pinched Timothy's forearm and pulled him closer to her. He looked around the room.  
  
"Please don't tell me its Benedict."  
  
"No! Look!  Over there on the left, near the potted tree.  That's her!"  
  
Timothy's eyes followed the direction Wanda had indicated.  The woman was standing in profile, gazing outside at the gardens.  It was indeed the woman whose photograph Wanda had shown him in the flat.  
  
"Christ, she's early!" exclaimed Wanda in horror.  "I thought we'd have a few minutes to prepare!"  
  
"Off you go then, Goldilocks. I'm off to inspect the cakes trolley!" chuckled Timothy, gently pushing her in the woman's direction.  
  
Timothy went up to the check in podium and was immediately taken to his table.   
  
 _Soldier on, Wanda.  This was your idea after all._  
  
Without hesitating, Wanda approached the petite woman.  Wanda judged her candidate to be roughly the same height as she was.   Her straight chestnut brown hair skimmed her shoulders, the ends curled neatly under.  Wanda noted that her clothes were of good quality and fit well.  When she turned, Wanda could see her hair was layered around her face with a soft fringe.  
  
Wanda considered leaving for a brief moment, then her conscience got the better of her.  
  
 _You can do this one more time.  Do it for Benedict's sake. Do it for your and Timothy's future grandchildren._  
  
Wanda took a deep breath and plastered a smile on her face. "Excuse me.  Are you Donna Saint James?"  
  
The woman looked at Wanda.  Her large eyes were hazel with flecks of gold and green. She smiled and nodded at Wanda.  
  
"Yes I am!  You must be Wanda.  How nice to meet you," she said warmly as she clasped Wanda's offered hand. "I've been looking forward to this all day."  
  
 _She's American.  I wasn't expecting that, thought Wanda._  
  
"As have I. Let's get settled in so we can have a proper chat, shall we?"  
  
The seater led the way to their table, which was indeed next to Timothy's. He appeared to be engrossed in a book.  Donna sat in her chair, letting her huge shoulder bag drop to the floor.  Unfortunately, it landed on Wanda's foot with a thud.  
  
"Ouch!" exclaimed Wanda, looking under the table. "That's one heavy bag you've got there. Are you usually in the habit of carrying bricks around?" She rubbed her sore instep.  
  
"Oh my!  I'm so sorry, Wanda!" said Donna quickly picking up the bag and putting it close by her feet. "It is rather heavy. I always wind up dragging around more stuff than I need."  
  
 _Holy Christ!  Where have I heard that before? Benedict's constantly schlepping around unnecessary things_ thought Timothy.  
  
Donna got up and inspected Wanda's foot, which looked a bit red but wasn't swollen.  
  
"I'll be fine," said Wanda.  She glanced over at Timothy, who rolled his eyes at her.  She felt her phone vibrate under her hand and looked at his message.  
  
 _Well, this interview certainly started off with a bang.  How's the foot?_  
  
 _I'll live, unfortunately, to do this bloody interview. I can't imagine what she's got in there. It reminds me of when Benedict overpacks for a trip._  
  
Wanda looked up to watch as Donna scooped the ice cubes in her water glass into her napkin and twisted it.  She handed it to Wanda with an apologetic smile.  "Here.  Put this on your foot so it doesn't swell."  
  
"Thank you," grimaced Wanda as she placed the makeshift ice pack on her instep.  
  
Donna then moved one of the extra chairs at their table beside Wanda.  "Why don't you try elevating your foot?  It helps prevent swelling. I have some Tylenol you could take for the pain."  She bent over, retrieved the bag and began rummaging around in it. "Wait a minute, I think I might have an elastic support bandage in here."  
  
Wanda and Timothy exchanged looks.  
  
"Please don't bother.  The icepack is working wonders. Are you a nurse?" asked Wanda hopefully.  
  
"Oh, no.  I was a Girl Scout.  I had to take a first aid course to get my badge," replied Donna proudly.  "I probably should have been because I like helping take care of people when they're sick or injured."  
  
Wanda felt the phone vibrate.  
  
 _Her knowledge will come in very handy when dealing with Ben. Maybe he would finally believe that colds are caused by a virus if she showed him her badge._

  
  
  
  
  
A few minutes later Wanda and Donna were perusing the menu. Timothy, at the table next to them, continued to look absorbed in his book.  Apparently, he had already placed his order.   
  
"Please feel free to order whatever you fancy," offered Wanda.  "My family and I dine here often. Everything's good."  
  
Donna closed her menu.  
  
"I've never been here, so I'd like to leave it to you to choose for me."  
  
Timothy looked up from his book.  
  
 _I thought I heard an American accent.  We need to know if she's here permanently.  I wouldn't want Ben to wind up in a relationship with someone who's not going to live here._  
  
"Do you have any food allergies or dislikes?"  
  
"No allergies, and I like just about everything," she said.   
  
Timothy was smiling.  
  
Wanda's phone vibrated under her hand.  
  
"Excuse me."  
  
 _We'll sort out the wedding invites when we get home, shall we? Stop grinning like the Cheshire Cat or did your injury affect your brain? I'm sure the other shoe will drop shortly. She'll be showing her loony side before we know it.  They all did._  
  
"So sorry.  My husband's home with a nasty cold, so I've been keeping in touch with him."   
  
Donna nodded understandingly.  
  
Wanda quickly typed back a message to Timothy.  
  
 _I'm just trying to be optimistic. I have nothing to lose except my other foot._  
  
 _In that case, I think I rather enjoy playing the role of the pessimist._  
  
A three-tiered tea tray was placed on Timothy's table along with a pot of Earl Grey tea.  He smacked his lips in anticipation.  
  
"Oh, that looks wonderful!  Is that the traditional afternoon tea?" Donna asked.  
  
"Yes."  Wanda proceeded to read aloud from the menu:  "An assortment of sandwiches, scones and pastries. It also comes with tea."  
  
"Sounds perfect," said Donna.  
  
"What kind of tea would you fancy? Unless you'd rather a coffee."  
  
Donna took a quick look at the menu.  
  
"I'd like to try the Darjeeling and China Black blend.  I actually prefer tea to coffee. When I do drink coffee, it's usually flavored."  
  
Wanda felt the vibration under her hand.  
  
"Excuse me."  
  
 _Indulge me, as I've decided to be a bit optimistic now. She's a tea drinker! What luck! She'll never realize what awful coffee he makes. He can buy some of those flavored syrups and add it to hers.  At least he can make a proper cup of tea._  
  
Timothy looked over and smiled at her, while Wanda was preoccupied with placing the order with the server.  Donna returned the smile and quickly lowered her eyes.  
  
 _Be careful, Tim.  She's watching you. Try not to be obvious._  
  
"Out of all the responses I got, yours was the most intriguing due to its lack of information," began Wanda.  
  
Donna smiled nervously and bit her lower lip. She took a deep breath.  
  
"I believe a resume is for a job application. I'm not here for a job interview.  I'm here to meet a nice guy and hopefully live happily ever after with him."  
  
Timothy looked up at Wanda.  _My, that was a bit blunt,_ he thought.  
  
"On second thought, I probably should have sent one. I don't want you to feel as if you're in the dark. Please feel free to ask me whatever you'd like, and I'll be more than happy to answer."  
  
 _Decent recovery_ thought Timothy. _Ben would have kept waffling his way out of it._  
  
Wanda studied her with hands folded on the table.  
  
"Why is a cute bird like yourself responding to a personal ad?"  
  
Donna frowned.  
  
 _There's an abundance of bluntness to go around today_ , thought Timothy as he turned a page in his book.  
  
"Bird?  I'm not familiar with that expression."  
  
Timothy smiled and poured himself another cup of tea.  
  
"It means a young woman.  I guess I'm stuck in a 1960's time warp," explained Wanda with a giggle.  
  
The conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the tea tray and tea.  The two women spent a couple of minutes perusing the selections.   
  
"I'll be mother," offered Wanda as she leaned over towards the teapot.  
  
"Oh, no!  Please let me do it!  You need to rest your foot," said Donna anxiously as she picked up the teapot.  The teapot was much heavier than it looked, and even though she had to use both hands, Donna wound up overfilling Wanda's cup, spilling some onto the table cloth, narrowly missing the older woman's hand.  
  
 _Shit!  Now, she's going to burn me,_ thought Wanda as she sat there helplessly.  _Had I known, I would have had an iced tea._  
  
"Wow, this is such a heavy teapot, but it's not as heavy as my bag," joked Donna.  
  
Wanda didn't laugh.  She felt her phone vibrate.  
  
 _That was a close call.  If I were you, I'd keep my hands off the table._  
  
Donna slowly decanted the tea into her own cup.  
  
Wanda looked in her cup.  Donna had neglected to place the tea strainer on the cups, so there were plenty of loose tea leaves floating around.  
  
Wanda felt the phone vibrate under her hand.  Timothy was grinning from ear-to-ear.  
  
 _She didn't use the tea strainer! LOL I guess you can read the tea leaves when you're done and see if she's daughter-in-law material._  
  
 _Hopefully, I'll live that long.  Lord knows, she may wind up killing me first._  
  
Donna removed a small plastic bottle of hand sanitizer gel and used it.  She noticed both the man and Wanda watching her in fascination.  She offered it to Wanda, who politely declined.  
  
"I like to keep as germ free as possible," Donna explained. "You never know if people are sick or where their hands have been. It does cut down on colds."  
  
 _I guess I fall into the she doesn't know where my hand has been category_ , thought Wanda with amusement.  
  
Wanda nodded and continued to watch her.  Timothy stopped reading his book and started to text.  The lines around his eyes crinkled with merriment.  
  
Wanda instinctively looked down at the phone.  
  
 _You know, I could have personally vouched for where your hand has been.  I could have assured her that you washed it afterwards._  
  
 _Stop being so damn cheeky, Tim!_  
  
 _Ben will certainly approve of her. She's got everything he could need inside that mystery bag of hers._  
  
 _I can't wait to see what else she pulls out!_  
  
 _She's just as neurotic about germs as he is.  They can mount their crusade against germs together. We can fill their Christmas stockings with those little bottles. LOL._  
  
"Sugar?" Wanda offered the sugar bowl to Donna.  It contained both white and brown cubes.  
  
Donna added two lumps of demerara sugar to her cup.  
  
"I love the brown sugar.  It gives the tea a rich, caramel flavor," smiled Donna as she stirred.  
  
The man at the neighboring table cleared his throat loudly.  
  
Wanda felt Timothy's text.  
  
Once again, Donna looked over at Timothy.  He quickly looked back at his book.  Wanda took a sip of her tea and frowned.  
  
"Excuse me."  
  
 _How's the tea? Maybe you should just ask for another cup and pour it back through the strainer.  I don't want you to choke on those tealeaves before you've had a chance to read them.  I really have a keen interest in what our future holds. BTW have you noticed they like the same sugar? I think I died and went to heaven._  
  
 _Don't die on me yet, Tim.  We're not done. A lot can go wrong._  
  
Donna watched as Wanda floated a thin slice of lemon in her tea.  She took a couple of slices and squeezed them into her cup.  Unfortunately, as she pressed the slices together, a bit of the juice squirted into Wanda's eye.  
  
"Oh, bloody hell!  My eye!" Wanda took her napkin and blotted her eye the best she could.  Her eye began to tear.  
  
Donna looked beyond horrified.  "I'm so, so sorry!  Let me get you a Kleenex."  She leaned down to get her bag again.  "I might also have some eye wash in here."  
  
"No!  Please.  I'm fine.  It was just a bit of lemon juice," Wanda said trying not to squint.  Her eye burned from the acidic juice.  She dipped her napkin in the water glass and dabbed at her eye gently.  
  
 _What else can go wrong?_  
  
The mobile vibrated.  
  
 _Are you all right?_

_Yes.  Barely._

_I'd suggest you have a look in your compact then, as you look like you a raccoon.  Your eye makeup's run._  
  
Donna slumped in her chair, sipped her tea and frowned as Wanda pulled her compact out of her handbag.  
  
"I think I should have used the tea strainer.  I've got tons of tealeaves in my cup, so I know you must, too.  I'm sorry, Wanda."  
  
Wanda tried her best to smile at her.  "It's quite alright.  You're nervous is all. I'll get us some fresh cups."  Wanda flagged down the server to get clean cups.  Then she quickly fixed her eye makeup.  Her eye was bloodshot.  Satisfied that this was the best she could do, Wanda helped herself to one of the ham and mustard sandwiches.  
  
"So, Donna, what brings you to London?"  
  
Donna didn't seem put off by Wanda's probing questions.  She took a salmon sandwich and took a bite.  Then she patted her lips with the napkin before answering.  
  
"My work brings me here. I've been living in London for the past six months.  I've been consumed by work, so I have little free time. It's been hard to meet someone decent.  The few dates I have had were not - shall we say successful."   Donna placed the tea strainer over her cup and watched Wanda decant the tea into her cup before continuing. "One night after yet another date gone wrong, I found myself looking at the personal ads in Craigslist when I should have been looking for a Sous Chef. It caught my attention immediately.  I thought it was very cleverly worded."  
  
Wanda sat up straight and sipped her tea. She was feeling very flattered and glanced over at her husband with a slight smirk.  
  
 _And he had the bollocks to call my ad 'rubbish'._  
  
Timothy's ears perked up as he slathered an orange scone with clotted cream.  
  
 _Did she just say Sous Chef?  Is she a chef? Maybe she owns or manages a restaurant. That would make sense. Ask her if she's a chef, Wanda!_  
  
Wanda took one of the warm scones and cut it open.  The faint orange scent wafted up.  
  
"Oh, that smells delicious," commented Donna.  "I must try one."  She took a scone and sliced it in half.  Then she broke off a small piece and tasted it.  
  
"May I ask where home is?" inquired Wanda as she sipped her tea.  
  
"New York City, originally. London for the time being."  
  
Donna spread a layer of the strawberry jam over the layer of clotted cream.  Then she took a bite. "Oh my, this is to die for!"  She licked her lips and took another bite.  "London truly is scone heaven. These are very good.  I often get ones at home that are more like big biscuits, so I started baking my own."  
  
Wanda's phone moved on the table from the vibration.  Donna looked at it.  
  
"Excuse me."  
  
 _She bakes her own scones.  I bet she's a pastry chef.  She can bake her own wedding cake and all our birthday cakes. Maybe she owns a bakery! Stop stuffing your face with the bloody scones and ask her what she does! Do I have to feed you the damn questions, woman?_  
  
 _Bloody hell! Stop texting.  You said this is my show, so let me run it.  I know what to ask._  
  
"If your husband needs you home, we can meet another time, Wanda," suggested Donna.  
  
"Oh, no, perish the thought, my dear.  He just couldn't find where I keep the throat lozenges, the silly man."   
  
Timothy looked up in annoyance.  He picked up his mobile and sent a text.  
  
 _I'm not a silly man!  I think I take offense!_  
  
Wanda smiled and dashed off a response to Timothy.  
  
 _Bugger off, silly man. You're distracting me! Eat your tarts._  
  
Timothy looked at his phone and shook his head in obvious amusement.  He noted that Donna kept watching them like a hawk.   
  
"What do you do for a living?" Wanda was asking.  
  
"I'm a food critic.  I write a weekly column called 'Tasty Travels' for the London Tribune."  
  
Wanda was genuinely impressed.  
  
"Now, I recognize your name. You really raked Jamie Oliver's new restaurant over the coals last month.  We couldn't stop laughing."  
  
"It was well-deserved, and I meant everything I wrote," said Donna.  "Don't get me wrong, I don't like having to give a bad review.  It's part of my job."  
  
 _Interesting.  We had dinner there and couldn't stop raving about it,_ thought Wanda.  
  
"Do you miss New York?  It must get lonely being away from home."  
  
Donna finished her scone before answering.  
  
"Frankly, I've been too busy to miss it much. My sister and brother-in-law are living here for a year."  
  
"How nice that you have family here! What do your parents do?"  
  
"Mom's an attorney. Her firm specializes in entertainment law."  
  
 _Good grief!  A solicitor!  What luck!_ Thought Wanda.  Benedict would have an in-law, who would watch his back if he had work in the States.  
  
"What does your father do?"  
  
"He works for the New York Times."  
  
"He's a reporter, then?"  
  
"He's one of their film critics."  
  
 _Interesting.  He would probably love Ben and give him nothing but good reviews_ , thought Wanda.  
  
Wanda glanced over at Timothy.  He had stopped eating and was no longer smiling.  
  
Wanda's phone vibrated, but she dare not look at it.  Instead she refilled their teacups and indicated the top tier of the tea tray, which was filled with delicious-looking sweets. "Try one of the pastries, Donna.  The Orangery is famous for their sweets."  
  
Donna looked up at the offerings on the tray.  She spied a cannoli that was surrounded by a jam tart and small chocolate cake with a gold crown on top.   
  
"Would you like to share the cannoli?"  
  
"Yes, that would be lovely," replied Wanda.   
  
Before Wanda could react, Donna had taken her knife and reached up to cut the pastry in half.  The shell was very crisp and hard to cut.  Donna pressed down hard with her knife, sending half the cannoli, the jam tart and chocolate cake flying off the plate.  Her eyes widened in horror as the airborne sweets landed on Timothy's table - the cannoli piece plopping into his cup, splashing tea on his tie and white shirt.  The jam tart came to rest upside down on his book and the chocolate cake landed on his lap.  
  
Donna jumped up from her seat and went over to Timothy's table.  
  
"Oh my God! Please accept my apology! I am so, so, sorry, sir!  Here, let me help!"   She took her napkin and dipped it in the water and handed it to Timothy.

 _I'm so, so sorry seems to be a running theme here,_ Thought Timothy.  
  
Timothy stood up.  The chocolate cake fell onto his shoes.  He looked at Wanda, who shook her head at him and rolled her eyes.  
  
"For fuck's sake," he said as he took the offered napkin from Donna and began blot his shirt.  "Thank you," he said half-heartedly.  
  
"Son of a bitch," Donna muttered as she went back into her bag.  "Wait.  I think I have something to help."  
  
 _Christ!  She needs to stop helping. Now what's she's getting out?_ Thought Wanda.  
  
A server came over to clean off the table.  
  
"Here, sir.  If you use this on your shirt, the stain won't set," said Donna as she handed Timothy a small packet that said 'Resolve Stain Remover Wipe'. "These work great.  Just dab it on the stain.  It'll remove most of it. Then wash your shirt and tie as soon as you get home."  
  
Timothy did as Donna suggested and saw that the wipe did indeed work. "Thank you.  I'll be sure to tell my wife to get some of these." He looked over at Wanda meaningfully.  
  
Donna had moved on to trying to remove the jam tart from the book.  Unfortunately, the pages were stained red from the strawberry jam.  She stared at the ruined book.  "Motherfucker!" she spat.  "I apologize for making such a mess.  Please let me buy you a replacement book."  
  
"It's fine, Bene--I mean, miss.  It wasn't your fault.  These things can happen," said Timothy smiling slightly at her.  "Please go back to your table and enjoy your sweets.  Just try not to cut anymore of them in half."  He winked at her in an attempt to try and make her feel better.  
  
Donna sat back down at the table.  She looked at Wanda, who was busy eating a slice of lemon drizzle cake.   
  
"I don't know what to say, Wanda.  I'm not accident-prone.  It just seems like everything is going wrong.  I'm afraid I'm not making a very good impression..." her voice dropped to a whisper.

Wanda was concerned that the woman was going to have a meltdown in the middle of the dining room.  
  
"It's okay, Wanda," Donna said, swallowing hard. "Why don't you call your husband and see how he's feeling - I'm going to use the ladies' room.  I'll be right back," she said as she quickly got up from her chair.  
  
As soon as Donna was out of earshot, Timothy looked up from cleaning the chocolate cake off his shoes. He shook his head.  
  
"Fucking unbelievable! We've only been here 45 minutes, and in that time she manages to injure your foot and eye, and ruins my shirt, book and shoes. I'm not sure we're going to survive the rest of the interview intact."  
  
Wanda looked towards the restrooms and sighed.  "Poor dear probably went to the restroom to have a cry.  She looked mortified. You know she didn't do any of it on purpose, Tim.  Just bad luck is all."  
  
"She'll wind up killing Ben.  Did you notice that she's a tad on the neurotic side?  The thought of the pair of them together frightens the hell out of me! We'll have neurotic grandchildren.  I don't think I've the patience for that."  
  
"You really are doing a fine job of being a pessimist, Timothy.  All this aside, I am starting to warm to her."  
  
Timothy sat for a moment, collecting his thoughts.  He leaned closer to Wanda.  He took a deep breath and patted her hand.  
  
"Okay.  I'll try and put a more positive spin on this. Actually, I was hoping she'd leave her bag so we could see what else is in there.  I've never seen so much shit!"  
  
"Of course you have.  Whenever your son packs to go on a trip."  
  
"Well, if they get together, they'll need an entourage to help with their luggage.  She doesn't strike me as a light packer."  
  
"You did hear her say she's a food critic?  The one who writes the column in the Sunday paper.  I bet we could tag along when she does reviews.  Food critics always go out in a group so they can try a wide variety of dishes.  Ben would love that, and I think he might just fancy her. Fate is smiling down on us!"  
  
Timothy shook his head and frowned slightly. "I don't think you should be planning the extended family vacations just yet. She hasn't asked any questions about Benedict."  
  
Wanda pursed her lips. "Maybe I shouldn't tell her he's an actor - look what happened at lunch."  
  
Timothy cleared his throat. "As you have been constantly reminding me, this is your show; so I'll leave it to your better judgement."  
  
"Thank you," said Wanda.  "Don't worry.  I know what to tell her."  
  
"Before I forget, I've noticed that she keeps watching me," commented Timothy.  "She either finds me wildly attractive or suspects that you and I are texting each other."  
  
"You're old enough to be her grandfather, so I'll assume the latter," said Wanda.  "We'll compare notes once she's gone."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Benedict Cumberbatch sighed and pocketed his mobile.  He had tried to reach his parents several times with no luck.  He stood in front of the mews house in Kensington with their anniversary gifts.  
  
 _That's weird.  They should be home.  I'll just go up and leave the gifts._  
  
A few minutes later, he was in the flat.  Benedict hung up his cardigan and called out, "Hello?  Anyone home?"  
  
Benedict listened.  There was no response.  Nothing but dead silence greeted him.  He took a quick tour of the flat and found that it was indeed empty.   
  
 _Looks like they haven't come back yet.  I'll just leave these._  
  
Benedict placed the box of gift-wrapped macarons and an envelope containing an anniversary card and two theatre tickets on the dining room table where he knew his parents would be sure to notice them.  
  
 _Now that's all sorted out, I'd better get going._  
  
As Benedict turned to leave, he caught sight of the computer desk. His eyes focused on the drawer that he had been dying to look in.  
  
 _This is my chance.  I can have a quick peek at what mum's been hiding._  
  
Benedict walked over to the desk and put his hand on the drawer pull. The drawer wouldn't budge.  
  
 _Bloody fucking hell!  It's locked!  She never locks that drawer. There must be something interesting in there that she doesn't want me to see._  
  
Benedict went into the kitchen and retrieved his father's toolbox.  He sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the desk and opened it.  He rummaged around in the box until he found a lock pick.  
  
 _Ah ha!  There you are!  And mum thinks I knew nothing about you.  All those years she used to pick the lock on my desk drawer. The woman was in too many spy shows._  
  
Benedict's mobile rang.  He took a look and saw that it was his ex-girlfriend, Olivia Poulet.  
  
"Hi, Liv!  Sorry I haven't had time to ring you back."  
  
 _"I was starting to feel offended, but I just reminded myself how much you like playing phone tag,"_ she chuckled.  _"What's up? And don't tell me you are!"_ she teased.   
  
Benedict and Olivia had remained close friends after their breakup.  He cushioned the mobile between his neck and shoulder so he could work on the lock while they talked.  
  
"Yeah, well, actually...everything's going great.  I wanted to ask if you fancied going to dinner with me and the Acklands to celebrate.... my... getting ....Sherlock," he grunted as he tried to turn the pick in the lock.  "Damn it."  
  
 _"Did I catch you sitting on the toilet, Ben?  You can call me after you're done."_  
  
Benedict burst out laughing.   
  
"NO! For fuck's sake, Liv!  I'm not in the loo.  I'm trying to pick this fucking lock on my parents' desk. You remember the one they keep the computer on."  
  
" _They never kept that drawer locked."_  
  
Benedict grunted again.  "Well...they.... do... now."  
  
 _"Are you sure you're not on the toilet? You used to do it to me all the time."_  
  
"It was a simple matter of multi-tasking! I do recall...you...calling me when you were having a wee a few times."  
  
 _"I think you're not eating enough fiber and don't want to admit it."_  
  
"Stop being a twat."  
  
Olivia laughed.  _"Sorry, couldn't resist.  Give me the details."_  
  
"It's just that there's a folder I need to see in the drawer.  Mum's going to write her memoirs.  Well, maybe not.  She had quite the row with her literary agent at the May Fair. The table almost went over - there were broken plates and glasses everywhere.  She caused quite the scene.  You know how Mum can get when someone crosses her.  Anyway, she's got notes on the book hidden in here; and I want to read them.  I don't know what...almost got it... the big...just a little bit more... secret is..." he grunted again.  
  
 _"There are some things about you that I don't miss, Ben.  Those were not the details I was asking for, you knob.  I was talking about the dinner!_  
  
"Oh.  I thought. Never mind."  
  
Olivia kept laughing.  _"You're still so fucking nosey, Benedict!"_  
  
"Curious, Liv.  I'm curious.  What's wrong with that?"  
  
 _"You think you're curious.  Trust me, love. You're nosey. Now, where's the dinner?"_  
  
Benedict sighed deeply.  
  
"Next Friday night at Barbecoa.  It's in that new mall near St. Paul's.  Proper Aged Steaks and American-style barbeque."  
  
 _"I've read the review in the Tribune.  Sounds yummy. What time?"_  
  
"Seven...motherfucking lock!"  
  
 _"You mean seven thirty."_  
  
Benedict's efforts were finally rewarded with a click.  He wiped the perspiration off his brow and smiled.  
  
"No.  I really do mean seven."  
  
Olivia snorted.  _"We're talking Benedict-time here, you mean seven-thirty. Let me look at my calendar - wait a minute.  Oh, shit, wish I could, love, but I've got plans that night."_  
  
"Change them.  Pleaaassse. It's important to me."  
  
 _Christ, did I just whine at her?  Yes, I did.  Pathetic, Benedict, really pathetic._  
  
 _"As much as I'd like to, I really can't.  I've got a date with Roger.  Remember I mentioned him the last time we talked?"_  
  
Benedict scratched his head.  "To be honest. No. But I'm shit with names."  
  
 _"How true that is! He's the actor I told you about.  It's the first time we've been able to coordinate schedules."_  
  
"Oh."  
  
 _Why do you feel jealous, Benedict?  It's been over two years since the breakup. You're not in love with her anymore.  You love her as a friend.  You're not jealous of her.  You're jealous of the new relationship. She's moving on and you're not. You miss being in a relationship._  
  
 _"Tell you what?  Let's meet up for lunch at Cecconi's next week and have our own little celebration,"_ she suggested. _"I'll text you what day and time and take care of the ressie."_  
  
"Yeah.  That would be fine. I need to check my schedule. I'll text you what days are best for me.  I'm looking forward to it."  
  
 _"Me, too.  I'll leave you to finish your pooing in peace then,"_ she teased as she rang off.   
  
Benedict put the pick back in the toolbox.  He smiled triumphantly as he pulled the drawer open.  To his dismay, there was nothing but two empty manila folders labeled "resumes" and "photos" in his mother's neat hand. He did not see the small piece of paper that fell out of one of the folders when he removed them.  
  
 _That fucking figures!  She must have put them somewhere or else taken them with her._ He looked at his watch.  _I don't have the time to search her other favorite spots._  
  
Benedict put the folders back in the drawer and slammed it shut.  He got to his feet and turned to leave.   
  
 _Shit!  She's going to know I've been picking the lock. I need to lock it so she won't know what I did. I hate it when she calls me Barrister Ben._  
  
Benedict quickly returned to the desk and looked in all the drawers for the spare key.  Lucky for him, it was in the one of the bottom drawers.  He locked it and sighed deeply with relief.  
  
Then he noticed a small slip of paper by his feet.  It must have fallen out of one of the folders.  Benedict turned it over and recognized Wanda's handwriting:  
  
 ** _Good try, Barrister Ben, but not good enough._**  
  
  
  
  
  
As Donna returned to the dining room, she noticed that Wanda was engaged in conversation with the man at the next table.   
  
 _I'll be damned!  They do know each other. Oh, Donna, there's nothing going on.  They were just chatting while you were gone - probably having a good laugh about your little mishaps. I could swear they were texting each other, but it has to be a coincidence.  The man was definitely listening to our conversation.  He's probably just nosey.  I have such an over active imagination._  
  
Timothy looked up to see Donna approaching the table.  
  
"Shit!  She's back awfully quick. She's seen us talking," whispered Timothy. "I can't stay here. I've got an idea.  Just play along like we're doing improv.  I'll be reading on a bench outside."  
  
Donna took her seat and smiled at Timothy.  Timothy opened his wallet, put down cash on the table and got to his feet.  He looked at Wanda and smiled.  
  
"It was lovely chatting with you. I'll leave you to your tea.  Remember to try the Victoria sponge cake. It's delightful.  Have a nice day, ladies," he said and with that he left the restaurant, book in hand.  
  
Donna and Wanda watched as Timothy made his way out of the room.  
  
"He's been watching you ever since we sat down.  I think he likes you," teased Donna with a smile.  "He's such a distinguished looking man and what a nice voice he has. He could be an actor."  
  
Wanda blushed and turned off her mobile.  
  
"I don't know about the actor part, but he is rather handsome.  Bloody hell, listen to me! I'm a married woman!  Now, were there any questions you had for me, dear?"  
  
"Well, for one, I'd like to see what your son looks like.  Did you bring a photo?"  
  
  
  
  
  
  
An hour later Donna Saint James and Wanda Ventham stood on the path in front of the Orangery. All of Wanda's questions had been answered to her satisfaction, and she was feeling very optimistic.  
  
"I really enjoyed our tea, Wanda.  Thank you for a lovely afternoon," said Donna.  "I hope to hear from you soon.  I'd love to meet your son.  He sounds very interesting."  
  
Wanda smiled and clasped her hand. "We did have a nice chat! I think you and my son would get along splendidly.  I'm going to need time to check his schedule and figure out how to make it look like an accidental meeting."  
  
Donna slung her bag over her shoulder and frowned.  
  
"'Accidental meeting'?  What do you mean?"  
  
 _Bloody hell! This is the tricky part! Thought Wanda._  
  
Wanda bit her lip and tucked her hair behind her ears.  
  
"My son has no idea I'm doing this," she blurted out.  
  
Donna regarded the woman before her with a raised eyebrow.  
  
 _Holy shit!  Her son doesn't know!  Turn around and walk away now, Donna.  Walk now and walk quickly. There are other fish in the sea._  
  
"I don't know if I want to get involved in this," she began cautiously. "Is there something wrong with him that you're not telling me? If there is, I need to know now. I don't want to deal with any more nuts. I also don't want to get mixed up in a lie."  
  
Wanda wrung her hands.  
   
 _For fuck's sake!  Why do they always ask what's wrong with him?  Like he's damaged goods!   Okay, Wanda, you're an actress - act!  No.  Don't act.  Just tell it like it is._  
  
"All right then.  I'm going to be totally honest with you, Donna.  I really like you and think you would hit it off with my son.  I guarantee you that there's nothing wrong with him.  He is exactly as I have described him to you.  I'll email you his photo when I get home.  He just has a frightfully busy schedule and no time to meet anyone worth having a relationship with."  
  
 _Take advantage of those acting lessons, Wanda._  
  
"My son's the one who gave me the idea to place an ad in the first place.  One day we were discussing his situation, and he told me to go place an ad in Craigslist."  
  
 _He told her to go place a fucking ad for him? Good lord!  Her son is lucky that she's so open-minded, and they can discuss things like that.  I could never discuss something like this with my mom.  I would be treated to a rant on all the jerks I've brought home._  
  
 _Wanda, you're going straight to hell for bending the truth. Tell her the truth and what motivates you._  
  
"At first, I had no intention of actually placing an ad, but then I thought about how he yearns to be in a loving relationship.  So, I did it. He doesn't know I went through with it. What harm is there in not telling him that I gave fate a little push on his behalf?  You both have so much in common!  If you and he get along and wind up together, what's wrong with that?  You're happy.  He's happy. My husband and I get grandchildren. Your parents get grandchildren.  Everybody's happy.  I see it as helping to bring two very nice people together."  
  
Wanda flashed her most winning smile.  
  
 _She's putty in my hands. Give her your best BAFTA-winning performance._  
  
 _He doesn't know!  Oh, that's bad. Don't say anything else, Donna.  Just thank her for the tea and leave. Don't get in over your head._  
  
"Then why not tell him what you just told me?"  
  
 _Bloody fucking hell!  She reminds me of Benedict and not in a good way._  
  
"Because my son can be very old-fashioned about some things.  He wouldn't see it as helping him."  
  
Donna pursed her lips and smiled knowingly at Wanda.  
  
"In other words he'd see it as your butting into something that doesn't concern you.  You're afraid he'll be angry if he finds out."  
  
Wanda remained silent.  
  
 _Beyond angry is more like it.  He'd disown me._  
  
Donna stood there eyeing Wanda.  She idly toyed with the gold bracelet she was wearing.  Wanda could only guess that she was trying to make up her mind.  
  
 _Leave while you still can, Donna.  Don't get embroiled in this scheme.  Don't agree to meet her son.  What if you do fall in love with him and he finds out?  You'll have a divorce on your hands. What if you had kids with him? You'll never ever hear the end of it from Mom and Dad.  Just thank her for tea and be on your way._  
  
"Wanda, I should walk away and forget we even had this meeting. This is one of the wackiest schemes I've ever heard.  However, I've spent over two hours in your company, and I find that I like you very much.  I think you'd make a great mother-in-law. I'm impressed with your devotion to your son.  He sounds like someone I would get along with.  I think I do understand why you did what you did.  Your way of going about finding him a mate may be unorthodox; but I'm completely sure you're acting out of love for him.  My instincts are seldom wrong."  
  
Wanda nodded and tried to hold back her tears.  The young woman understood.  
  
Donna took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  
  
 _You are really taking a chance, Donna. A lot of people can get hurt, including you._  
  
"Please give me a call when you've figured out how we're going to meet and email me his photo."  
  
Wanda smiled and gave her a hug.  Donna hugged her back.  
  
"I promise you won't be sorry!"  
  
 _I hope not,_ thought Donna.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Timothy Carlton sat on a bench halfway between the exit from Kensington Gardens and the Orangery engrossed in his book.  
  
"Hello handsome.  Good book?" asked Wanda as she sat beside him. "It certainly smells good. I hope you read the pages before they were covered with strawberry jam."  
  
"Yes, I did. Actually, I started to fear you couldn't pay the bill and were washing up.  You've been talking to her for quite awhile."  
  
"There was a lot to say.  I can tell you one thing: she can be every bit as wordy as Benedict, bless her. She wasn't happy when I told her about arranging an accidental meeting; but I gave one of my BAFTA winning performances."  
  
"You don't have a BAFTA."  
  
"Neither do you. It was a figure of speech."  
  
"Did it bother her that Ben's an actor."  
  
"I didn't say that in so many words.  Especially after the reaction I got from Samantha.  I told her he worked for the BBC.  Sherlock will be on the BBC, so technically he works for the BBC."  
  
Timothy rolled his eyes.  "Not a good idea, but it's done. What was her reaction to his photo?"  
  
"Can you believe I couldn't find the bloody thing?  It must have fallen out of the folder when I left the May Fair in a rush."  
  
"It was more like a huff, but who am I to say?"  
  
"She asked me to email her Ben's photo.  I'm not so sure it's a good idea after some of the reactions I've gotten.  I think he's so much more handsome in person.  I really wish I had another of the ones of him dressed as Sherlock."  
  
"You're going to have to send one of what he really looks like," said Timothy.  "Preternatural eyes and all.  I will agree that he's better looking in person."  
  
Wanda looked at Timothy and patted his cheek.  
  
"She said you were very distinguished-looking and thought you were sweet on me," she said.  
  
"That's because I am," he responded with a wink.   
  
  
  
  
  
Donna Saint James put her camera back in her bag after taking some more photos of Kensington Gardens.   
  
 _Mom and Dad would love it here. I'll email these when I get home._  
  
As she walked along the path to the exit, a thought came to her.  
  
 _Jeez, how dumb you are Donna!  You spent a whole afternoon talking with this woman, and you didn't even think to ask what her son's name was!  I wonder what he looks like.  I hope he's not a troll.  Oh, well, I guess I'll find out soon enough. Come to think of it, you don't even know her last name._  
  
Donna exited the gardens and started down the wide walkway that led to the street so she could catch the tube.  All of a sudden, she noticed an older couple sitting on a bench near the Orangery. They looked very familiar. As she got closer, she recognized them.  
  
 _It's Wanda and the man who was sitting next to us!  She said she was going right home to take care of her sick husband._  
  
Donna quickly ducked back behind some bushes and watched Wanda and Timothy, who were deep in discussion on the bench.  Wanda reached out to pat Timothy's cheek and he laughed and winked at her.  Then they exchanged a brief kiss on the lips and got up to leave.  They began to walk in her direction arm-in-arm.  Donna stepped back a bit further. She could hear their conversation as they walked past her.  
  
"I'm going to the chemist to pick up the prescriptions.  Then I'll head for home," Wanda said to her companion.  "I don't even feel like making dinner I'm so full."  
  
 _Oh my God.  She didn't seem like the type to cheat on her husband.  You just never know!_  
  
"I couldn't eat another bite," the man responded.  "I think I'll have a hot bath and turn in early with a DVD."  
  
"See you soon then," said Timothy as he kissed Wanda on the lips. "Love you, my darling."  
  
"Love you, too!"  
  
Donna watched as they walked out of the park and headed in separate directions.  
  
 _Holy cow! They're having an affair!  He was texting her all the time she was talking to me. Her poor husband. Home sick and she's kissing this man. What in the hell did you get yourself into, Donna?  You should have just turned around and walked in the other direction._  
  
Donna kept mulling over the conversation while she rode the Central line back to Blackfriars Station.  
  
 _Well, it's not like I'm going to date her.  It's her son I'm interested in.  What she does is her own business.  If you hadn't snooped, this wouldn't have happened. I'm going to put this out of my mind. I hope I don't have long to wait to meet her son, she thought. He really does sound like the man for me._  
  
Little did Donna Saint James and Wanda Ventham know that fate had it's own plan.  
  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I gave a lot of consideration in choosing a career for Donna in order for her to fit in with Benedict's life style as realistically as possible. I finally decided to make her a food critic. I also thought it would make a good match being my version of Benedict (and I think the real one, too) is a foodie, not to mention my own interest in food! :-) The London Tribune is a fictional newspaper.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you to everyone for hanging on for this long! So, without further delay - Benedict finally meets his match - or does he?

 

Benedict Cumberbatch emerged from the St. Paul's tube station into the remnants of the Friday night rush hour. He rushed up the stairs. Quickly weaving his way in and out of pedestrian traffic, Benedict checked his watch – it was half past seven and he was almost thirty minutes late to dinner with the Acklands. Tonight was supposed to be their long overdue celebration of Benedict's landing the role of Sherlock Holmes.  
  
Benedict entered Barbecoa, surprised to see Adam and Alice not already waiting for him. Slightly out of breath, he approached the podium. Two young women were busy checking in newly-arrived diners.  
  
Finally, the taller of the two spoke to him. "Hi, do you have a reservation?"  
  
Benedict rubbed the back of his neck. "Um, yeah. I'm meeting friends for dinner, and I want to know if they've checked in?"  
  
"What name is the reservation under?"  
  
"Cumberbatch. For a party of three."  
  
She scrolled through her list of reservations, then frowned and did it again. "Are you sure it was for seven?"  
  
"Quite sure." Benedict craned his neck, trying to see the screen. "I made the reservation myself."   
  
"Do you have the confirmation number?"  
  
"Er...no. I forgot to write it down," he said with a slightly nervous laugh.  
  
The girl sighed and looked down her nose at Benedict. "You should always make a note of your confirmation number. It helps us find the reservation quicker."  
  
The man next to Benedict shook his head in disbelief and said, "Blimey, how can you not take a minute to write down a bloomin' number?"  
  
Benedict smiled sheepishly. "I was in a hurry that morning."  
  
 _Shut up, Benedict! He could give two shits why you didn't write it down. He thinks you're an arsehole – and he's correct._  
  
He drummed his fingers on the podium, painfully aware of the queue forming behind him. "CUMBERBATCH. It's C–Charlie, U–Umbrella, M–Mother—"  
  
The girl held up her hand to silence him. "Got it." She studied the computer screen and elbowed her co-hostess. They looked from the screen to Benedict accusingly.  
  
"I'm afraid your table is no longer available. No one's checked in or called to say they'd be late and it's been thirty minutes."  
  
Benedict rubbed his face. "Shit."  
  
The couple behind him sighed loudly in annoyance and Benedict heard a none-too-pleased voice directly behind him: "This is ridiculous. I shouldn't have to wait while they sort him out!"  
  
Just as he'd started to shift uncomfortably, the other hostess took pity on him and beckoned him over to her side of the podium. Rubbing his neck, he leaned over to watch as she studied the evening's bookings.  
  
She pursed her lips. "If your party gets here in the next twenty minutes, I can give you a table. However, you must vacate it by nine-thirty. What was your name again?"  
  
"Cumberbatch."  
  
She typed and Benedict saw a note come up next to his name. He craned his neck, trying to read it to no avail.  
  
"What does that say?" He pointed to the screen.   
  
"You mean you can't read upside-down?" she teased.  
  
Benedict laughed. "Not yet."  
  
"It says you're a friend of Jamie and we should let him know whenever you have a reservation."  
  
Benedict picked up a pen from the podium and twirled it between his fingers. "Is Jamie here tonight?"  
  
"Yes." She beamed her finest customer-service smile. "I'll send word that you and your guests will be dining with us. Just let me know as soon as you're all here." She dismissed him with a wave of her hand and turned her attention to the next group of diners.  
  
Benedict looked out at the mall. There was still no sign of the Acklands.  
  
 _That's odd. They're never late._  
  
He pulled out his mobile and saw that he'd forgotten to turn it back on when he left the studio.  
  
 _Fuck me! I bet they're running late and left me a message._  
  
Turning on his mobile, he saw there were three messages from Adam.  
  
 _"Hey, Ben! I've been trying to reach you but your fucking phone is off. Give me a call as soon as you get this."_  
  
 _"Ben, I just got off the phone with Alice. She's taking Jon to the doctor and I'm going to meet her there"._  
  
Benedict felt queasy. Jonathan was his three-month old godson, and he loved the child as if it were his own. He impatiently forwarded to the last message.  
  
 _"Give me a call as soon as you get this."_  
  
His hands trembling and his mind conjuring up all sorts of scenarios, none of them good, Benedict rang back. Adam picked up on the second ring.  
  
Benedict ran a fretful hand through his hair. "How's my godson? I forgot to turn on my mobile and just got your messages. I don't know what's wrong with me sometimes—"  
  
 _"The doctor said it's just a cold and not to worry. He assured us that babies always run higher fevers than adults. It's pretty high though,"_ Adam said miserably.  
  
"Yeah, but it's his first cold," Benedict sighed.  
  
 _"Exactly,"_ said Adam. _"He's been sneezing and fussing. His little nose is all stuffy. Alice and I are just a wreck. It's breaking our hearts to see him like this."_  
  
"I'd feel the same way – I do feel the same way. He's my godson! Can I do anything?"  
  
 _"Thanks for the offer, but it just has to run its course. Alice and I don't want to leave him so we're going to bow out of dinner. Hope you understand, Ben."_  
  
"Adam, don't be a dolt. I understand completely. When Jon's better, we'll meet up for dinner."  
  
Adam sighed with relief. _"Thanks for understanding, Ben.  Have a drink for Alice and me."_  
  
 _I may have several after the day I've had,_ thought Benedict.  
  
"Give Jon and Alice a kiss from me. I'll call tomorrow to check on him. Don't hesitate to ring me if there's anything I can do."  
  
 _"I will. Enjoy yourself, mate,"_ said Adam as he rang off.  
  
Benedict returned to the podium. He smiled ingratiatingly at the hostess who had promised to squeeze him in. She was chatting with a server. They ignored him.  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
The girls gave him a withering look.  
  
 _Oh, Benedict, you interrupted their little chat about whether the bartender is single or not. ...Too bad._  
   
He returned the pen to the podium. "I won't be needing the table after all. My friends just left a message that they can't make it."  
  
 _I really wanted to eat here.  I'm so fucking hungry!_  
  
Benedict looked at the girl pleadingly; she avoided his eye. "Is there anything available for one?" he tried. "I don't mind eating at the bar."  
  
Meanwhile, the other hostess had returned to the podium with a stack of menus. Her bad mood seemed to have improved and she offered, perhaps to placate him, "There's an empty high top table across from the bar. It's communal, though. Would that be all right? It has a great view."  
  
Benedict nodded his assent. "That's fine. Lead the way."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Wanda and Timothy had just finished lunch at their favorite restaurant in Gloucestshire and were headed back to their cottage.  
  
Timothy stopped at a traffic light. "You're awfully quiet," he broached. "At first I thought the food wasn't to your liking, but you hoovered up everything." He glanced sideways at her and grinned. "I don't know if I ever told you, but my mother always said that Wanda has a hearty appetite. You'll never go hungry if you marry her. And she was right."  
  
Wanda stared out at the countryside and said nothing.  
  
"Are you feeling all right, pet?"  
  
"That new server they hired is grating on my nerves. If he looks at my empty plate and says, 'well done, madame!' one more time, I'm going to belt him."  
  
"Hmm...I don't know about that. I rather think you fancy him."  
  
Wanda stared in puzzlement. "Why would you say that?"  
  
"You give him the look. The one that never fails to drive me mad with desire."  
  
Wanda giggled. "And what look is that? It certainly can't be this one." She crossed her eyes and stuck out her tongue.  
  
Timothy glanced at her, then returned his attention to the road. He said with a laugh, "Not that one, though it is a close second. I'm talking about the one that makes you look all smoldering and vamp-like."  
  
"This one?" Wanda winked, tossed her head back and peeped coquettishily at Timothy from under her eyelashes.  
  
Timothy grinned and patted her hand. "That's the one. It never fails to get my attention  – all my attention." He waggled his eyebrows and leered for emphasis.  
  
"That look is reserved exclusively for you, love. The look I gave the server was more...like this." Narrowing her eyes, Wanda gave her most frosty glare.  
  
"That's it! What do you call that look?"  
  
"My bugger-off-you-sodding-dolt look."  
  
"It's not having the desired effect, then. He keeps praising you!" Finally the car behind them beeped and Timothy continued on across the intersection.  
  
Wanda sighed and patted Timothy's thigh. "You never fail to make me laugh, Tim. I was feeling a bit anxious is all. I still have to sort out how he's going to meet them."  
  
Timothy turned the corner. "Personally, I'd like a weekend off from your little project. I thought we'd go back and watch a film."  
  
" _Our_ little project," Wanda corrected.  
  
He sighed. " _Our_ little project."  
  
"That's better. Don't try to get out of this, Timothy Cumberbatch. You're in up to your eyeballs."  
  
"I prefer to think of you being up to your eyeballs, while I'm only up to my waist.  You're the one who set this in motion by placing your catchy little ad."  
  
Wanda laughed and clapped her hands together. "Oh, you should have seen the original  – it read like War and Peace! I made Benedict sound like an absolute saint."  
  
"Of that I have no doubt," muttered Timothy as he approached the cottage.  
  
"Then Una pointed out that it desperately needed paring down. I'm afraid I can't take all the credit!"  
  
Timothy blinked as he pulled into the drive and turned off the motor. "Una? What does Una have to do with this scheme of yours?"  
  
 _Shit! Wanda, you have a big mouth. He wasn't supposed to know about Una._  
  
They entered the cottage and hung up their coats.   
  
 _Let me try the cuppa distraction. That always works._  
  
Wanda went into the kitchen, put the tea kettle on and busied herself pulling mugs from the cupboard; Timothy followed after locking the door.  
  
 _She thinks a cup of tea and some biscuits will distract me!_  
  
Timothy leaned against the counter, folded his arms and watched Wanda fill the teapot with hot water to warm it. "Right. Kettle's on, pot's warming and I'm waiting. How is Una involved?"  
  
 _Damn! He can't be distracted today._  
  
Wanda watched the kettle as it began to steam. "It's as I said before: she fixed the ad. Then I showed her the responses. She was very helpful," she added brightly.  
  
Frustration erupting in him with all the force of a freight train, Timothy threw up his hands and began to pace around the kitchen table. "For fuck's sake! How many bloody accomplices do you have?!"  
  
"No need to get excited, love." Giving Timothy a wide berth, Wanda reached for the canister and added three spoons of darjeeling to the pot. "At first she didn't want any part of it—"  
  
Timothy shook his head. "I can't believe what I'm hearing." He rolled his eyes. "Is there anyone else I don't know about? The butcher? Ben's agent, maybe? Tracy and the girls?"  
  
"No," Wanda said quickly. "Just Una, and she won't say a word!"  
  
Timothy sat down heavily. "Christ on a crutch! I don't want to be around the day Benedict finds out."  
  
Wanda poured the tea into two mugs and soothed, "He won't. You worry too much." She added milk and sugar and handed one to Timothy, who accepted with a sigh and stood to look out on the garden while he sipped.  
  
"Let's not involve anyone else, Wanda. The less people who know the better."  
  
Wanda leaned against him. "You're right, Tim."  
  
"What did you say?"  
  
"That you're right."  
  
"Ah, music to my ears! I find it quite a turn-on, you know?"  
  
Wanda patted his bum and smiled up at him, her eyes sparkling. Timothy looked down at her with a question in his eyes. He felt her hand lightly stroke the length of his zipper and he couldn't help but smile naughtily.  
  
 _God, how I love this woman in spite of her faults._  
  
Wanda said in a low voice, "We've got the whole house to ourselves, handsome. I think we could both use a good shag. I'll meet you upstairs."  
  
She walked away, her ample hips swaying, then turned and winked at him.  
  
Timothy smirked as he followed her to the stairs. "Only if you promise that the owls won't watch."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Donna Saint James got out of her cab and checked her watch for the tenth time that hour.  
  
 _Shit! I'm so late! Why did they have to hire such an asshole? I can't believe the bastard spent two hours on special holiday articles when it's months away! All he did was talk, talk, talk!_  
  
Donna's cell phone rang. It was her sister, Carly.  
  
"Hi."  
  
 _"How's the new boss?"_  
  
"Awful! He's an arrogant dick who loves to hear himself talk. He hated all three of the proposed holiday trip destinations, and he hated my suggestion to review London restaurants that serve family-style Christmas dinners. If he knows so much, he shouldn't have bothered asking us!"  
  
 _"I hope you didn't argue with him."_  
  
"I didn't!" exclaimed Donna indignantly.  
  
 _"Oh, that's a relief!"_ Carly sounded relieved.  
  
"Much," Donna added quickly.  
  
 _"Donna, he's your boss! You need to practice being more diplomatic."_  
  
"I couldn't sit there and listen to him rip apart three perfectly good destinations! You would've done the same."  
  
 _"I've got to go. Please don't argue with Jamie. Just listen carefully to what he has to say before engaging foot in mouth."_  
  
"Fine! I promise to stuff a breadstick in my mouth if I get the urge." Donna rung off and hurried inside.  
  
  
  
  
  
Benedict was feeling very sorry for himself.   
  
 _Today's been a fucking disaster! What else could go wrong?_  
  
He'd woken up late for Rumpole and found himself stuck on a tube train for over an hour while a broken signal was fixed, then received a dressing down in front of the cast and crew by the producer for being late. The only ones happy were the crew, who were to receive overtime pay.  
  
Then he'd heard back from his agent about a part he wanted badly. Foolishly, he'd thought that hearing back so soon could only mean they wanted to offer him the part. But as Benedict listened to the message, he'd found to his dismay that the producer thought he wasn't right for the role.  
  
The only bright spot in his day was having dinner with his dear friends, and now they weren't coming. He'd have that drink in Adam's honor after all.  
  
 _Or two or three,_ he thought sourly.  
  
The restaurant was very modern inside. Benedict sat at a high-topped table in front of  floor-to-ceiling windows that afforded a wonderful view of Saint Paul's.  
  
 _I hope no one else comes. The last thing I want right now is company._  
  
He was jolted from his reverie by the perky server. "Hi, I'm Kelly and I'm going to be taking care of you tonight! Welcome to Barbecoa! You won't need a menu because Jamie's going to cook for you. He'll be out to say hello as soon as he can. Would you like a drink?"  
  
Benedict looked her over. She was tall and slim with large breasts that he found his eyes glued to. Her ponytail bobbed when she moved.  
  
 _I wouldn't mind if you took care of me – and not in the way you mean._  
  
He looked through the drink menu and smiled at her. "I'll start with a Peach Tean-ni and some water, please."  
  
  
  
  
  
Donna made her way through the crush of people to the podium. The taller of the two hostesses greeted her with a blinding smile. "Can I help you?"  
  
"I'm Donna Saint James. I had an appointment with Mr. Oliver but I'm very late because—"  
  
The girl cut her off with the air of someone who had heard it all before. "I've heard all the excuses, so save your breath, love. Jamie got your message. Let me tell him you're here. I'll be right back." She sighed as if the weight of the world were on her shoulders and flounced off.  
  
Donna stood to the side and waited, feeling her face flame.  
  
 _It's her lucky day I'm not here to review or she'd find herself being written up for her sassy attitude._  
  
The hostess returned, smiling cautiously. "Jamie apologizes that he can't come out. We're slammed right now. He said to have a seat and enjoy dinner on the house. He's going to cook for you himself."  
  
"All right. I haven't eaten since breakfast, so I'm more than ready for dinner," said Donna with a smile.  
  
 _Ha. He must be afraid after my piece on Comfort._  
  
"I don't have a regular table right now, but there's room at one of our communal high tops. Is that okay with you?" Without waiting for an answer, the hostess grabbed a drink menu and started to walk.  
  
As they passed the large open kitchen, Jamie looked up from his sauté pan and offered a half-smile. There was a man already seated at the table, facing the window. The girl indicated that Donna should sit next to him.  
  
Before she could rush off again, Donna stopped her. "Can I have some water? I'm very thirsty."  
  
"Of course. I'll have the server bring some immediately."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Benedict sat, sipped his martini and looked out at St. Paul's. The sun was just starting to set and the cathedral was bathed in a golden light; the overall effect was soothing, and between the drink and the scenery he found himself finally starting to relax.   
  
Suddenly, he was aware of movement to his left. A woman was attempting to sit on the stool beside him. She appeared to be having difficulty, but finally hiked herself up with some effort.  
  
 _Oh, fuck. Just what I didn't want!_  
  
Benedict heard a creak. The stool tipped alarmingly towards him and the woman's shoulder bumped his elbow, causing a sizeable portion of his drink to slosh over his hand and onto the tabletop.  
  
"Christ!" Benedict said through gritted teeth. “It's not my fucking day, is it?” He blotted the drink off his hand, slapped the damp napkin onto the table and mopped despairingly.  
  
Instantly Kelly was by his side. “I'll do that, sir. It will be my pleasure to get you a fresh drink and napkin.” She was off, rushing across the floor with the near-empty glass and soiled napkin before he could say anything further.  
  
Donna righted the stool and caught her breath. _That was a close call! I need a drink!_ She set her handbag down on the floor. Just then, the man next to her crossed his ankles and his trouser leg rode up.  
  
I've never seen such ugly socks! They've got all kinds of little owls on them! And purple and yellow stripes!  
  
She whipped out her phone and furtively snapped a picture.  
  
  
  
  
  
Benedict cast a sideways glance at the woman who had almost knocked him off the stool. She was fiddling with her mobile seemingly without a care in the world.  
  
 _Cheeky bitch! Won't even apologize. If I weren't a gentleman I'd knock her on her arse._  
  
He cleared his throat and affected a high-pitched falsetto:  
  
“Oh, I'm SO terribly sorry for knocking into you and spilling your lovely cocktail! I'll buy you another one, shall I?”  
  
Donna stopped reading the drinks menu and looked up at him quizzically.  
  
“Excuse me? Did you say something?” _Good God. I just sat down. I hope he's not trying to hit on me._  
  
“Nothing. Nothing at all,” muttered Benedict sourly. _She's probably touring London alone. Trying to pick me up, I'll bet!_  
  
Donna turned her attention back to selecting a drink. _Wonderful. I'm sitting next to a nut who talks to himself. I attract them all._  
  
“Oh, silly me for forgetting my manners and not apologizing to you!” Benedict said in the same silly voice. _Bloody fucking hell! She's ignoring me!_  
  
Donna banged the menu down on the table and turned to Benedict. “Is there a problem? You're obviously trying to get my attention.”  
  
Benedict glared. “Yes, in fact there is! You waltz in here, practically knock me over, spill my drink – which I was really enjoying, by the way – and all you can do is sit there and text on your bloody mobile like nothing happened!”  
  
Benedict stared at her. She stared back.  
  
"I have no idea—" she began. _What? I didn't touch him!_  
  
 _Clueless cow, he thought with mounting irritation._  
  
“Forget I said anything!” Benedict said, waving at her dismissively.  
  
Donna shrugged and began to text. Benedict drank some water and ever so subtly leaned to the left until he could steal a peek at her screen. It didn't take much since they were sitting fairly close together at the small table.  
  
 _I've got a real asshole sitting next to me,_ she was busily texting.  
  
His mouth gaped open in shock. _How dare she call me an asshole! She doesn't even know me._  
  
Benedict righted himself and circled the rim of his water glass with his index finger.  
  
Donna looked up at him with narrowed eyes. _Did I just imagine that?_  
  
"Excuse me, but did you just look at what I was typing?"  
  
"Of course not!" scoffed Benedict, rubbing the back of his neck. "Why would I care what you're typing?" _Shit! She caught me._  
  
"Because you're obviously being nosy. I saw you lean over."  
  
She tossed her hair dismissively and returned to texting, purposely angling the screen away from him. Benedict craned his neck, but couldn't make out anything on the screen.  He leaned a bit closer. She shot him an annoyed look and turned away on the stool.  
  
 _Damn! Oh, Benedict, now she probably thinks you're nosy and weird. I just want to see what she's typing about me!_  
  
Donna shot off another text:  
  
 _Not only is this guy an asshole, but a nosy one as well_  
  
Benedict looked hurt. "You really aren't going to apologize, are you?” _No manners! Mum wouldn't like her._  
  
Donna stopped texting and looked at Benedict. She ran her tongue over her upper lip as if trying to decide what to say, if anything. _He IS talking to me! What I would give for earplugs right now._  
  
She glanced around the room. All the tables were occupied. Benedict also glanced around the room.  
  
 _Shit. She's not going. You're stuck with her, Benedict. Just don't say anything more and make the best of it. Maybe she's just here for a quick drink. Very quick._  
  
 _Shit. Stuck with the annoying dick. Let me put him in his place._  
  
Donna spread her hands in mock surrender. “Okay! I apologize from the bottom of my heart for whatever it is you think I did. Now please leave me alone so I can eat my dinner in peace. I've reached my bullshit quota for the day,” she added with irritation in her voice.  
  
 _And I've reached mine! Turn on your mouth filter and just enjoy your evening like you planned. On second thought, how dare she be so cheeky! Fuck the mouth filter. I have feelings, too._  
  
"You're not the only one who's had an appalling day," began Benedict. "My day—"  
  
Perky Kelly chose that moment to return with a fresh drink and napkin for him. She also had a a glass of water for Donna and a carafe of water. Kelly set the water on the center of the table and gave Donna the same overly-perky spiel about taking care of her.  
  
 _Good! Something to occupy his mouth with. I get the feeling he'd keep talking at me till the restaurant closed._

 

  
  
Benedict took a healthy swallow of the peach-flavored drink. What he really wanted was food – and soon. He noticed the woman had stopped texting and was looking at his drink.  
  
 _I bet she orders a white wine. Women always order white wine because it's low in calories or some such rubbish. Such a romantic view, and I'm sitting here with a self-absorbed American on holiday. What a waste!_  
  
"Can I get you a drink?" Kelly asked Donna.  
  
She pointed to Benedict's glass. "What's that?"  
  
"A Peach Tean-ni. Green tea infused Hendricks, Crème de Pêche, lychee and egg white," Kelly recited with great enthusiasm. "It's one of our most popular drinks."  
  
 _And they're so good I'm going to drink heaps more,_ thought Benedict as he smacked his lips. _Better not get pissed, though. There's no telling what'll come out of my mouth!_  
  
"I'll have one of those," said Donna. "Light on the liquor."  
  
Benedict smirked. _Not a drinker. I'd like to see her with one of Dad's drinks. He doesn't know what 'light' means._  
  
A few minutes later, Kelly returned to the table bearing food and Donna's drink. She set a bread board in the center of the table.   
  
"Naan, Tuscan Italian brushed with garlic butter and New York-style pumpernickel. We also make the butter in-house," Kelly rattled off. "It's topped with sea salt." Then she put down a starter plate between Donna and Benedict. "Crispy pig cheeks with piccalilli, chive and lamb's lettuce salad. Enjoy!" With that she scooted off.  
  
Their stomachs both growled loudly at the same time.  
  
Donna began to pull the plate with the pig cheeks towards her, her mouth watering.  
  
Benedict frowned. _What the fuck?_ Asserting himself, he smiled thinly. "Excuse me, but that's my starter you're about to eat."  
  
Donna looked at him. She felt her face go red. "Sorry," she muttered as she pushed the plate towards Benedict.  
  
"Ah, so you do know how to apologize." Satisfied, Benedict slid the plate in front of himself. "This looks delicious," he added as he inhaled appreciatively. "Mmm!"  
  
With a flourish he placed his napkin in his lap and helped himself to some of the crispy pig cheeks and salad. "Mmm." He took a bite and closed his eyes in rapture. "Oh, extraordinary."  
  
Donna felt herself grow annoyed. _Smartass! If the tables were turned, I'd offer to share with him._  
  
Kelly bounded over with a drink for Donna and fresh one for Benedict. "How's everything tasting?"  
  
"Amazing!" Benedict enthused. He patted his lips with his napkin. "One of the best things I've ever had in my mouth."  
  
Donna rolled her eyes and Kelly regarded them with puzzlement before returning to the kitchen.  
  
 _Well, at least I can eat the bread._ Donna leaned across the table to reach for the bread and watched as her napkin fluttered to the floor in disgust. "Damn," she muttered as she began to reach down. The stool wobbled dangerously. "I hate these stools."  
  
"Please! Just let me get it. It's easier for me," said Benedict with irritation as he hopped down and retrieved the napkin. He handed it to her.  
  
"Thank you," she said grumpily as she placed the napkin on her lap. "These stools are a challenge for shorter people."  
  
"Tell that to the tit who designed the place," Benedict shot back with a sneer.  
  
"I'll be sure to tell my sister you said so."  
  
Benedict's mouth dropped open and his face reddened.  
  
 _Fuck me! That was a bit much. Why did I have to say that? Apologize, Benedict. Show her your Harrovian manners._  
  
Before he could reply, Kelly returned with another starter and placed it on the table between them.  
  
 _This one must be mine! Yay!_ thought Donna happily.  
  
"Lamb skewers with minted pea and broad bean purée. Enjoy."  
  
Donna finished her water and reached for the carafe. She refilled her glass.   
  
Benedict's eyebrows rose fractionally. _Bloody hell, now she's drinking my water!_  
  
As she went for the bread board, Donna noticed that the water carafe had moved slightly to the right. Benedict appeared to be blissfully eating his pig cheeks. When she rearranged her napkin on her lap and looked up, the water carafe had moved a few inches closer to Benedict.  
  
Her nostrils flared. _I really have to write a column on communal tables and what can happen when you wind up sitting with a greedy pig!_  
  
Donna leaned over and took the water carafe. She poured herself a glass, drank it down, and set the carafe out of his reach.  
  
Benedict looked at her and shook his head. _I must make a note not to sit at communal tables. I wish I could draw a line down the center!_  
  
Donna took a forkful of minted pea and broadbean puree and chewed. It was delicious. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Benedict move the water carafe towards his plate.  
  
 _Good God! I don't have patience for this shit. He didn't even order that water!_  
  
As she went to take the carafe, Benedict deliberately moved it out of her reach. "What are you a, bloody camel?" he taunted, laughing. "I've never seen anyone drink so much water. Why don't you just order your own?"  
  
"Excuse me, but the server brought the water at my request," Donna said indignantly. "I haven't had anything to drink all afternoon and I'm very thirsty. So if it's all right with you—"  
  
Benedict pushed the carafe back towards her. "Please," he said sarcastically. "I wouldn't want you to die of thirst." _Give her the fucking water and maybe she'll float away!_  
  
"Thank you!" she spat. "You know, I don't have to justify how much water I drink to you."  
  
Benedict took his mobile from his pocket and texted Adam:  
  
 _I really hate you right now. I'm stuck sharing a table with a bitch who thinks everything on the fucking table is her property. B_  
  
He looked up to find Donna straining to read his screen. Meeting his eyes with a guilty expression, she quickly lowered her own and went back to eating. Benedict drained his martini and signaled for another; unable to sit still, he began to jiggle his leg up and down.  
  
Donna found herself distracted by the movement and glanced down. _There go the owls again! This one obviously dresses in the dark._  
  
Benedict saw that she was staring down at his feet with an amused expression. _For fuck's sake! Why did I wear these? Because they were the only clean socks you had, Benedict. I must start keeping up with the laundry._  
  
Donna was furiously texting with a big smile on her face. Benedict leaned slightly towards her, but still couldn't make out what was on her screen. Her smile grew wider and he leaned out a bit further, but it was no use.  
  
 _Damn! I need to get closer. I know she's texting about me._  
  
He was finally able to make out some of the words. _Jesus, do I see the words "owl socks"? Just a bit more..._  
  
This time Benedict leaned out a bit too far. He felt himself start to tilt and feared the worst: the stool was going to go out from under him and send him crashing into his table mate. Unfortunately, he was right.  
  
"Hey! Be careful!" Donna cried, holding out her arm to steady him.  
  
"Motherfucker!" Shakily, Benedict regained his balance. "And why are you texting about my bloody socks of all things? Do they not have socks in America?"  
  
Donna looked at him with feigned innocence. "I wasn't."  
  
"Yes, you were. I saw you." He reached for his trouser leg. "I'll give you a better look, shall I?"  
  
"You're the most annoying person I've ever come across!"  
  
Benedict shook his head in amazement and smirked. "I could say the same about you."  
  
Their eyes locked. Benedict raised an eyebrow at her in question. Donna raised her eyebrow back.  
  
Sighing, she finally relented. "Okay! I did text about your socks, if you must know. To my sister. They made me laugh. I think they're cute."  
  
Benedict looked at her with an incredulous expression on his face. _What she really means is "why the fuck would you wear those out?" She can tell I'm not a Savile Row man. I would be if I had the money! She probably thinks I get dressed in the dark._  
  
They ate in silence for several minutes, then Kelly returned and placed two small china plates on the table.  
  
 _Oh, good, bread plates!_ thought Donna. _I really want that bread_. Unfortunately, the bread was out of her grasp.  
  
 _I'm going to have to ask Mr. Owl for help._  
  
She huffed and looked at Benedict. "Could you please pass the bread board?"  
  
Benedict looked at her with a frown. "Um...no. That was brought out for my enjoyment." He wagged his finger at her. "You're a very greedy girl, aren't you? You seem to want everything I have."  
  
Donna snapped, "Stop being so damn greedy yourself and pass me the bread! It's for us to share. That's why she gave us bread plates! What is it with you? First the water and now this!"  
  
"This isn't America!" he shot back. "They don't serve gratis bread here. Those aren't bread plates. They're for sharing the starters."  
  
Donna opened her mouth, then quickly shut it. She looked down at the plates. _Now that he mentions it, they didn't give us bread plates when I was here to do the  review. I had to ask for them. They gave us plates to share the starters._  
  
 _Oh._  
  
Benedict and Donna looked at each other as the meaning of the plates dawned on them.  
  
 _We're supposed to share all this food!_  
  
Kelly bounced over to them. "Jamie asked me to check on you two. How are the starters?"  
  
Benedict mumbled, "Everything is extraordinary.'"  
  
"Yes, please thank him for the appetizers," echoed Donna, cringing.  
  
Kelly retreated to the kitchen and the pair looked at each other again.  
  
 _He knows Jamie!_  
  
 _She knows Jamie!_  
  
Benedict cleared his throat and picked up a plate. "So, how about some bread?" The corners of his mouth turned up in a small smile.  
  
Donna shook her head. "If I can offer you some water," she said with a slight laugh and shifted uncomfortably on the stool, causing it to wobble and nearly tip again. Quickly Benedict reached out and steadied it.  
  
"Thank you. I feel like such a fool." Her cheeks were red from embarrassment. "I really thought I was going to wind up in your lap this time."  
  
 _That wouldn't be such a bad thing,_ he thought as he took his first really good look at her.  _Oh, Benedict, always thinking with your knob._  
   
"I promise not to move any more tonight." She smiled at him. It was a very nice smile.  
  
Benedict found himself returning the smile. He offered his hand to her. "Since we keep rescuing each other, we may as well introduce ourselves. I'm Benedict."  
  
"I'm Donna."   
  
   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, a big thank you to my lovely editor and proofreader, L-Chan, for all your help and patience in getting this chapter just right! xxxxx 
> 
> I know nothing of Adam Ackland's family, except that he has a wife named Alice and that Benedict is godfather to his children. Everything pertaining to him is a figment of my imagination.
> 
> I wanted to be heavy on the "Sassy-Batch" in this chapter, as I can visualize Benedict having a side like that. I was hoping to balance it with his dorkiness. 
> 
> The water carafe is taken from a real life incident where I witnessed two colleagues actually do this! LOL! 
> 
> My daughter and I had dinner at Barbecoa twice and the food, drinks and service were all wonderful. In reality the staff was very nice and accommodating. The area where Benedict and Donna sat was across from the bar. All the tables had a great view of Saint Paul's Cathedral. The peach-tini really was very good, but unlike Ben we only had one. :-)
> 
> Barbecoa and the mall it's in actually opened in late 2010, but for the purposes of this story, I opened it in 2009.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Benedict and Donna's "Getting-to-Know-You" dinner continues....

 

Donna Saint James took Benedict Cumberbatch's large hand in hers and shook it.  His warm skin was soft and smooth to the touch.  Donna had never seen such long, slender fingers on a man.    
  
 _No calluses. Nails trimmed and clean. I wonder what he does for a living._  
  
"Nice to meet you, Benedict," she said suddenly feeling shy.   
  
Benedict liked the way her small hand fit in his.  He took note of her short, red manicured nails and that she wore a gold ring with a ruby heart on her right hand.  
  
 _No engagement or wedding rings. I wonder if she’s in a relationship. Could that ring have any significance?_  
  
"Likewise," said Benedict with a smile.  "I apologize for being so stroppy earlier.  I'm not normally like that.  My day was particularly horrendous, and I just wanted to be left alone."  
  
"I don’t know what came over me!" Donna exclaimed. "I had such a lousy day, and all I wanted was some water..."  
  
"Lot's of water," chimed in Benedict teasingly.  
  
"Yes, lots and lots of water.  I almost laughed when you called me a camel because I was so damn thirsty - I felt I had been on the desert."  
  
"Shall we eat this before it gets cold?" Benedict suggested.  He took an empty plate and placed a generous portion of the pig cheeks on the plate and offered it to Donna.  "These are just brilliant!  I couldn't stop eating them."  
  
"So I heard," Donna said with a slight smirk as she glanced at him sideways.   
  
"Would you like to try the lamb?  I only tasted the pea and bean puree, but it's amazing!"  
  
"That would be lovely," replied Benedict as he unconsciously rubbed his right thigh.  
  
Donna spooned half the puree onto his plate.  She carefully picked up the wooden skewer with the intent of simply sliding off half the lamb cubes onto Benedict's plate with a knife. Unfortunately, the tightly-packed meat wouldn’t budge no matter how hard she pushed.  
  
 _Damn, I can't get these frigging things off the skewer.  Why can't chefs just take the meat off for presentation?  Why make the poor customer struggle?  Good thing I'm not doing a review of this dish..._  
  
"Gosh, I can’t get this meat off the skewer,” Donna grunted as she tightly gripped the knife, impatience getting the best of her. "I'm going to give it one last try before I give up."  
  
Benedict stopped buttering a piece of pumpernickel bread, as he suddenly sensed disaster looming. "Would you like me to try and..." he began.  
  
Before Benedict had finished his sentence, Donna had savagely pushed at the meat with all her strength.  This caused the cubes to slide off the skewer with such force that they became airborne and came to rest at an amused Jamie Oliver's feet.  The 'flying' lamb cubes had garnered the attention of those sitting around them. Donna covered her mouth with her hand and looked at Benedict, eyes wide in horror. Benedict stared dumbfounded at his hand, which was now covered in the puree that the lamb had been resting on.  
  
"Oh my God! I'm so sorry, Benedict!"  Donna cried as she quickly wiped off his hand with her napkin. “I suppose I pushed a tad too hard."  She suddenly had the urge to laugh at the absurdity of the situation.  
  
Benedict snickered, "I'd say that's rather a bit of an understatement.”  He leaned close to her and said in a low voice.  “If you were petitioning for Jamie to rename the dish 'Flying Carpet Lamb Kebabs', that was a stonker of a demonstration.”  
  
Donna snorted.  “After that fiasco, he’ll probably ask us to leave!”  
  
They looked at each other and began to giggle uncontrollably.  
  
The server ran to clean up the mess as Jamie approached the table. "Does this mean you didn't care for the starter?" he asked Donna spreading his hands in mock horror.  "All you had to do was send it back. I was under the assumption that you prefer using words as your weapon, rather than the food itself."  
  
Benedict's ears perked up.  _Words? Weapon? What does he mean?_  
  
"I didn't get a chance to taste it.  The meat was too tightly packed on the skewers," replied Donna icily. "Customers shouldn't have to work for their dinner, Mr. Oliver."  
  
"Then lucky for me that you're not working tonight," said Jamie with a laugh.  "So much for my just-off-the-grill presentation! However, you make a valid point. I'll instruct the cooks to remove the meat from the skewers from now on when plating."  
  
Benedict glanced sideways at Donna. _Bloody hell! She’s a cheeky little thing, bless her._  
  
Jamie took a deep breath, smiled and offered his hand to Donna. "Now that the meat prep's been sorted out, please call me Jamie. Sorry I couldn't come out sooner. Fridays are one of our busiest nights."  
  
Benedict continued to watch the interaction between Jamie and Donna.  _Maybe she’s an inspector?  He’s acting a bit cautious around her._  
  
"I apologize that you had to wait for me," said Donna as she accepted a clean napkin from the server. "I'm afraid my boss suffers from diarrhea of the mouth! I pride myself on always being ontime."  
  
Benedict felt himself bristle a bit at her comments even though they weren't aimed at him. _She'd love you, Benedict. You’re perpetually late and never know when to shut up._  
  
"Some things can't be helped," shrugged Jamie.  He patted Benedict on the shoulder and perched on the remaining empty stool. "I didn't ask you here to dress you down, Donna.  I actually wanted to thank you for the pukka review you gave Barbecoa last month."  
  
"That’s very kind of you," smiled Donna, starting to relax.  "You earned it.  I meant every word."  
  
Benedict’s mind was racing. _She's a  food critic! I read all the reviewers’ columns, so I must know who she is. What’s her last name? Oh, Benedict, you're such shit with names._  
  
Jamie Oliver gave Donna a half-smile. "What I want to discuss is the not-so-stellar review you gave of my new restaurant, Comfort."  
  
 _The othe shoe drops. I should have known_.  Donna sighed deeply. "You earned that one, too.  I also meant every word."  
  
“Oh, you’re the critic who gave Comfort that awful review last week.  How could you not like the food?  Everything was spot on the night I went with my parents,” Benedict piped up.  
  
Jamie smirked at Donna.  Then he beamed at Benedict and nodded as if to say:  'See, people liked it!'  
  
Donna scowled at Benedict as if to say:  'Who asked for your opinion?'  
  
 _Shut up, Benedict.  You weren’t part of the conversation. You irritated her.  Let’s not go back to square one.  He pretended to look out the window._  
  
Kelly arrived with another drink for both Donna and Benedict, who took a large sip of his drink.  She whispered something to Jamie, who nodded and said,"Tell Damien I'll be right there."  Then he turned his attention back to Donna. "We'll talk more later. I hope you enjoy the rest of the meal."  
  
Jamie got off the stool and finally exchanged hugs with Benedict.  
  
"Hey, mate! Didn’t mean to slight you. Your reservation was for three. Did your friends finally tire of waiting for you?"  
  
 _Did he have to mention that time management is not my forte? Now, she'll think I'm not only weird and nosy, but irresponsible._  
  
Donna gazed at Benedict, whose face had blushed bright red.  He squirmed on the stool. _They're friends! He must be one of those people who are always late.._  
  
"No. My godson's sick.  First cold," Benedict replied, rubbing the back of his neck. "They didn't want to leave him."  
  
Jamie nodded understandingly. "I have smalls at home, so I know how that is. He'll be fine in a few days.  Anyway, Kelly tells me you've been spilling drinks all over the place. What's with that shit?" he asked teasingly.  
  
"I'm afraid your sodding stools are to blame."  Benedict shot back in a mock serious tone.  "We both almost took quite a tumble on them. Then I would've sued your arse off. Lucky for you I was here to rescue the lady."  
  
Donna noticed the twinkle in Benedict’s eyes, and he winked at her.  She realized he was teasing.  
  
 _What interesting eyes he has.  Light blue with maybe a touch of green. I think I also see a bit of brown in the right one.  They remind me of someone, but I can't place who it is._  
  
"Well, you need to take that up with my designer.  It was her sister who picked the stools," laughed Jamie pointing to Donna.  "My God, where are my manners?  Donna, this is my good mate, Benedict Cum...."  
  
"We've already introduced ourselves," interrupted Benedict abruptly. He fixed the chef with a pointed glare, rolled his eyes and inclined his head in the direction of the kitchen.  _Now, please leave me alone with her, so we can talk._  
  
Donna noticed that Benedict was drumming his fingers on the table with an air of impatience. She was also feeling somewhat frustrated and caught herself glancing towards the kitchen.  _Please go back to your kitchen and cook, Jamie! Just when things were about to take a turn for the better. Now, Benedict probably thinks I'm a bitch._  
  
There was a flicker of realization in Jamie's eyes as he realized that Benedict and Donna wanted him to leave. He cleared his throat.  
  
"Cool! Glad you two are getting along then!" said Jamie happily as he retied his apron around his waist. "There was a miscommunication with the server.  The expeditor thought you two were together, so he had everything sent out to share.  Hope that wasn't a problem."  
  
"Perish the thought," replied Donna with a wave of her hand.  "We're both adults."  _We just had a little territorial war going on over the bread and water._  
  
She fixed Benedict with a meaningful look.  They exchanged a knowing smile.  
  
"Not at all," agreed Benedict.  "It was fairly obvious to us."  _It was almost the Battle of Dunkirk all over again._  
  
"We'll chat later!" Jamie said to Donna.  He patted Benedict on the shoulder again.  "I'll send out your mains in a bit.  As you were then."

 

  
  
Not more than a minute later, as if on cue, Kelly appeared with a small plate of steaming lamb cubes that were not on a skewer.  
  
Donna watched as Benedict shared the meat between the two plates. She cut into a cube and ate half of it.  She imitated Benedict's earlier groan of pleasure.  "Mmmm.  Perfectly cooked. As it damn well should be."   
  
"I would think so," Benedict said smugly.  "Being you're obviously a food critic - and one he's wary of.  Frankly, I'd be afraid to send out anything to you that wasn't perfect."  
  
Donna took a sip of her drink and smacked her lips. "The whole point is that the chefs aren't supposed to know I'm reviewing their restaurants."  
  
Benedict ate some of his lamb. _She's watching me eat.  Why? I'm not doing anything out of the ordinary._  
  
Donna suddenly realized she had been staring and quickly lowered her gaze. _He has impeccable table manners._  
  
"Man I ask who you work for, Donna?  That's surely not a secret being your name’s on your column."  
  
"The London Tribune.  I write the "Tasty Travels" column for the Sunday edition.  Occasionally, I do special columns, and I get to travel outside London on someone else's dime. It's great fun, and I love that I’m not tied to an office. I can work from almost anywhere."  Donna saw the immediate recognition in Benedict's eyes.  
  
 _OH YES!  She’s the acid-tongued critic, who started writing about six months ago.  I love her reviews, especially the bad ones!.  For the life of me, I still can't recall her last name. I'll look it up on the internet when I get home._  
  
He smiled coyly at her. "I have to confess to being a fan.  I read your column almost every week.  That's why I was looking forward to coming here tonight.  I actually found myself dreaming about the pulled pork on the waffle after reading your description," Benedict gushed.  "I'm rather bad with names, so I didn't realize who you were. Your photo isn't in the paper."  
  
 _Well done, Benedict! You've just babbled on like a star-struck fanboy.  Christ, what a tit you are._  
  
Donna sipped some of her drink.  _Phew!  At least he likes my column._  
  
"I don't have them post my picture because the paper wants me to dine as anonymously as possible.  I never give my real name when I make the reservation." Donna paused to take another sip of her drink.  "When I first started out, I quickly learned that using my real name only alerted the staff that I was coming in.  They would pull out all the stops to make sure I got nothing short of a perfect meal," she laughed.  
  
 _He has such sensual lips. I bet he's a good kisser. God, this drink is making me hot!_  
  
Benedict finished his drink.  He circled the rim of the glass with his index finger while listening to her.  
  
 _There's something sweet, yet sassy about her that I think I fancy._  
  
Benedict swept his gaze over her from the feet up, taking in every detail. Then he realized Donna was looking him over every bit as intently.   
  
Their eyes met and they quickly averted them.  
  
 _Stop watching her, Benedict.  You're acting like a school boy with a crush._  
  
 _Why do I feel attracted to him?  He's dorky and talks too much._  
  
 _Do I have a crush on her?  It's too soon for feelings like that to develop. We just met for fuck’s sake._  
  
 _I haven't felt like this since high school. I wonder what he's thinking?_  
  
 _Maybe it's not too soon, Benedict. You've got those pleasant tingly feelings in the pit of your stomach._  
  
 _I think I actually like him a little...maybe more than a little.  Even if he has poor taste in socks._  
  
Benedict cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck.  He felt uncomfortably warm.  "What makes a person want to be a food critic?" he asked as he unbuttoned his shirt cuffs and rolled up the sleeves to just below his elbows.  
  
Donna studied his bare forearms, while she thought of a response to his question.  _His body hair is so light, I can barely see it. I like that he doesn’t seem to have alot of it._   She pursed her lips as she thought how to respond to Benedict’s question.  
  
"Well, the obvious reasons are that I love good food, and I love to eat it.  I feel going out for a meal should always be treated like a special occasion.  It bothers me to see people get ripped off for lousy or mediocre food and service.  People deserve to have an optimum dining experience whether they patronize a Michelin-star restaurant, casual cafe or their local pub.”  
  
"So the food critic's mission is to steer people in the right direction when choosing a place to dine," commented Benedict as he rubbed his thigh.  He smiled widely at her. _Stop grinning like an idiot – you just regurgitated what she said.  You’re acting like a pupil eager for praise from the teacher._  
  
Donna returned the smile and nodded. "Exactly.  And most importantly, I want to warn people to stay away from the truly awful places."  
  
"Sometimes critics are wrong," pointed out Benedict as he ran his hand through his hair.   "I've gone to places that were positively cruicified, yet I enjoyed them immensely."  
  
"Name one."  Donna challenged him.  
  
"Comfort."  
  
"I had a feeling you were going to say that,” smirked Donna.  
  
"I'm very curious as to what you didn't like about it. That's the one review of yours I missed.  My parents and I dined there and had an extraordinary experience.”  
  
“I’d rather not rehash it tonight. If you want the gory details, you can find my review online,” began Donna.  “Let’s just say that I had been looking forward to it and was extremely disappointed.”  
  
Benedict blinked. "You thought it was that awful?  Really? My dad's fried chicken was juicy and crispy - he didn't even need a knife to cut it. We never had chicken that was so succulent. That cracker coating was amazing.  The mash was creamy and buttery.  I thought it was a nice touch to have the pat of butter just melting into them. Mum had the Yankee pot roast, which was fork tender.  The gravy was just right, very velvety and went well with the veggies and mash."  
  
 _He sure can talk!  Maybe he's a teacher. I could visualize him lecturing college students. I could listen to him talk all night.  What a beautiful voice he has.  He could read me a bedtime story and kiss me goodnight with those lips.  Jesus!  What are you thinking, Donna? You just met him. Remember, you have Wanda's son warming up in the bullpen._  
  
“We ate two baskets of those flaky buttermilk biscuits and that divine cornbread...”  
  
Donna burst out laughing and touched his hand.  
  
"I don't mean to interrupt you, Benedict, but are you sure you're not a food critic?  You're making me want to go back there after listening to you rave about it.  I feel like I was at a different restaurant."  
  
"I'm quite sure," Benedict laughed.  "I was just illustrating that reviews are purely subjective."  
  
"And you're right. There are times when I'm wrong, and I’m not afraid to go back and give a restaurant another chance – especially when I get emails saying that a place is good.  I like nothing more than to get emails from people saying they've enjoyed one of my recommendations."  
  
 _Maybe I should invite her to revisit Comfort with me.  That would be asking her out, Benedict.  Do you want to ask her out on a date?  I think I might. I want to be sure. Why am I so damn indecisive?  If Dad were here, he’d say I was waffling, and he'd be right._  
  
Donna watched as he gazed out at Saint Paul's Cathedral and thought about the conversation with Jamie Oliver.  Suddenly, the part about the spilled drink hit her.  
  
 _Donna!  You dumb ass!  You must have knocked over his drink when you first sat down!  That's why he was acting like that towards you._  
  
Donna nervously licked her lips and looked at Benedict.  She took a deep breath.  
  
"Forgive me, Benedict, but I have a feeling I missed something earlier.  When you were talking to me when I first came in - what exactly did I do to make you so angry?"  
  
Her comment startled Benedict.

 _Why is she bringing that up now? Ah. She really doesn't have a clue. Just say it was nothing. There's no need to elaborate.  She's actually turning out to be a nice person.  Don't ruin it._  
  
"It's not important, Donna.  You accidentally bumped my arm when you jumped up onto the stool, and my drink spilt. I apologize for acting like such an arse."  
  
Donna reached out and patted his hand.  
  
"No, I'm the one who should say 'sorry'. You had every right to be annoyed.  I was so caught up in my own drama, that I didn't realize I had bumped into you."  
  
Benedict liked the feel of her hand on his.  He looked her over again.  _She's very cute.  Not the type that usually turns me on, but I definitely feel a strong  attraction._ "I wasn't any better.  I took out my crap day on you.  How about we call a truce and pretend the first part of the meal didn't happen?"  
  
“Truce.”  
  
Donna watched him rub his leg and caught herself smiling. _He sure does love to rub his leg! It must be a nervous habit.  He's not the most handsome man I've ever seen, but there's something about him that's quite attractive._  
  
"So, what do you do for a living, Benedict?"  
  
"I'm an actor."  
  
Donna's face briefly clouded over.

 _Oh no! Mom and Dad would just love it if I brought home another actor.  I wonder if Dad's heard of him?_  
  
 _She doesn't look thrilled.  Probably thinks I'm perpetually unemployed._  
  
Donna rested her chin in her hand. "Have you done anything I would have seen?" _And please, God, don't let it be one of those films Dad really hated._  
  
Benedict drummed his fingers on the table and thought for a moment. "Probably not.  All of my work has been in the UK.  I've done lots of theatre, some made-for-telly movies and a few indie films. I use things like audio books, radio, adverts and narrations to fill in the gaps.  I've been quite lucky that I've been actively working since I graduated LAMBDA.  Ninety percent of the UK acting pool is unemployed, so I consider myself fortunate beyond words."  
  
Donna smiled to herself. _Oh, somehow I don't think he's ever beyond words!_   "May I ask how it is you know Jamie?"  
  
"We met on the set of a film I was doing. He was doing the catering," Benedict explained as he finished his portion of the starter.  
  
"What was the name of the movie?"  
  
"Hawking.  It was a BBC biopic of Stephen Hawking."  
  
Donna made a note to look it up when she got home.  
  
Kelly suddenly arrived with the mains:  
  
"Pulled pork shoulder served on a waffle, barbeque sauce and coleslaw, which is one of my favorites," she announced putting a large plater onto the table. "Lightly smoked duck breast.  Orange, blueberry and watercress salad with pomegranate dressing, also one of my favorites,  and beef shortrib with worcestershire glaze, duck fat chips and creamed spinach, which really is my absolute favorite."  She looked at Donna and Benedict.  "Can I get you a refill on your drinks?"  
  
"Not for me," said Donna.  
  
 _I think I've had my limit tonight, thought Benedict. I'd much rather talk with a clear head._ "No, I'm fine."  
  
"Okay.  Let me know if there's anything I can get you.  Enjoy!" and with that Kelly bounced away.  
  
Benedict rubbed his hands together. "The pulled pork!  Jamie must have been reading my mind."  
  
"Now you can stop dreaming about it," teased Donna. "You can do the serving this time, Benedict," she added with a grin as she handed him one of the clean dinner plates.  "Then if the pork gets away from you, we can tell Jamie to rename the dish 'When Pigs Fly on a Waffle'.  
  
 _Nice sense of humor. I like the way she uses my whole name.  She doesn't try to use a nickname right off._  
  
"Sure. I'll be mother," he said laughing.  
  
Donna watched him portion out the food. _That's such a quaint expression.  Where did I just hear it?_  
  
  
   
  
  
Wanda Ventham paced back and forth in the lounge of her country home.  She had been trying to arrange accidental meetings between Benedict and the chosen girls without much luck.  Timothy sat on the couch with his laptop looking at the excel spreadsheet his wife had made up.  
  
"You're going to wear out the carpet, the same way you did me, my love.  Come and sit," said Timothy patting an empty space on the couch beside him.  "Shall I make us a fresh cuppa?"  
  
Wanda ignored him and kept pacing.  She threw up her hands in exasperation.  
  
"Who knew it would be so bloody hard to arrange accidental meetings?" she exclaimed. "He's got so many things lined up, it's hard to keep track of.  He looks at me with a funny expression every time I ask him what his plans are.  I think he's getting suspicious."  
  
Timothy chuckled. "Perhaps its the way you're going about it: Where will you be Wednesday afternoon around two, Ben? What time will your rehearsal be over, Ben?  You usually go around to Parliament Hill Market at eleven, don't you, Ben? I think that would make even me wonder. You've not been very subtle.  Did you ever hear back from Tessa?"  
  
Wanda stopped her pacing. "Yes, I forgot to tell you. We need to cross her off the list.  She called to report that things started out encouraging at the poetry reading.  She even managed to snag a seat beside him.  However, when he started to talk to her afterwards, things went downhill."  
  
"Sad to hear. Was it a mouth filter malfunction or did he just prattle on?"  
  
"Guilty of prattling, I'm afraid.  She basically said he was a nice enough chap but didn't shut up the whole time.  She said she couldn’t go through life not being able to get a word in edgewise. What's wrong with him?"  
  
Timothy shrugged.  "I’ve been asking myself that since he was first able to put sentences together.  You’ve got to admit that he’s certainly mastered the fine art of prattling.”  
  
Wanda stared out the window, hands on hips. "I'm thinking of sending Jessica over to Parliament Hill Farmer's Market on Saturday.  Ben will be there to do his food shopping, so that would be a good place to bump into someone."  
  
"You're forgetting something," said Timothy as he plumped the pillow behind his back.  
  
"What?"  Asked Wanda, turning to face him.  
  
"I don't like Jessica, but aside from that and her hideous table manners, she's perfect for him."  
  
"What makes you think I like her?"  
  
"All that adolation!  You are, after all _the_ Wanda Ventham.  I'm afraid to think what would happen if she found out I was _the_ Timothy Carlton. Did it ever occur to you that her mother might be a huge fan of mine?”  
  
“In a word: no.”  
  
Timothy sighed dramatically. “ I don't know if I'd be able to handle all the attention at this age."  
  
Wanda stared at him as if he had grown two heads. “If I recall, she had no idea who you were.  She only asked you to take that awful photo of me grimacing.”  
  
“I prefer to think of it as your smouldering sex-bomb look.” Timothy pursed his lips and sighed. "Perhaps I need to have some of my headshots printed. I think I’ll make a note of that.  Hmmm.. I should probably also practice my autograph. You never know when you'll be asked for one. I mean look at you!  Who would have thought Jessica..."  
  
"Stop with the teasing, Timothy.  I'm trying to be serious here."  
  
"I really do love it when you show your jealous side. It's quite sexy."  
  
Wanda rolled her eyes as she pushed her sleeves up over her elbows. "I’m not jealous.  However, you're right about Jessica. We don't especially like her; but Ben just might.  You can’t account for taste.  Look at that awful biter he went out with."  
  
Timothy fixed her with an incredulous expression.  
  
"He told you about the biter?"  
  
"Humph! So he did tell you!" Wanda scoffed.  "And you didn't think to tell me, Tim.  When did he tell you?"  
  
Timothy held up a hand. "I believe I asked the question first.  When did he tell you?"  
  
"He didn't have to.  I saw the bite marks on his bum by accident when he bent over."  
  
"Oh, for fuck's sake - they were on his bum?"  Timothy shook his head.  "He didn't say where - he just mentioned the biting. He was worried about getting germs from her when she broke the skin. I told him to wash carefully and use some antiseptic ointment.  There are some things about our son’s love life that I don’t need or care to know."  
  
Timothy grimaced and adjusted his pillow again.  Wanda came over and straightened it out.  She perched on the arm of the couch  
  
"There.  Better?"  
  
"Yes.  Thank you.  Now, where were we, pet?"  
  
"Jessica. We were about to take her out of the running."  
  
"I'm not so sure you want to do that, Wanda, unless you really are jealous that her mother might fancy me.  Personally, I think you rather like the idea of having a fan for a daughter-in-law."  
  
"Oh, for fuck's sake, Tim!  I could care less."  
  
"Just think - you would be the Trophy Mother-in-law."  
  
"Shut up, Tim."  
  
"You'd be the envy of all your actress friends."  
  
"I mean it.  Shut up. Please."  
  
"Though I fear I may be overwhelmed with jealousy whenever her father would come around.  He's such a huge fan of yours.  I can't promise that I'd be able to contain my legendary temper."  
  
"Oh, bloody hell!  What temper?  You're the epitome of calm and placid."  
  
"I can only imagine the sheer joy and relief he felt when he found out you were still alive."  
  
"Please keep the monologue to yourself."  
  
Timothy noticed the corners of her mouth beginning to give way to a smile.  
  
"I bet he has your photo framed and hung in his office, so he can brag that his daughter met _the_ Wanda Ventham.  He'll be overwhelmed to be part of our family.  I can just visualize Christmas - especially if her mother turns out to be one of my fans. I do have them, you know.  All of us gathered around the table here, gorging on your famous turkey dinner, as Jessica tweets the bite-by-bite commentary."  
  
Timothy and Wanda could not contain their laughter any longer.  
  
Wanda playfully punched him in the arm.  
  
"Now, cease with the teasing, Timothy Cumberbatch!"  
  
"By the way, if I haven’t told you, I'm also glad you're still alive."  
  
"What's gotten into you?  You're really on a roll today!  I think you should ask your agent to book you on Graham Norton, being you've embarked upon a second career as a comic."  
  
"I'm just trying to lighten things up.  You've been working so hard on this little project. I dare say you're sounding a bit desperate, Wanda."  
  
"You're right.  However, I'm also not that desperate that I need Jessica in our lives. Let's send Frances to Parliament Hill.  She's a nice, normal teacher."  
  
Timothy stiffled a yawn and stretched.  "Have I ever mentioned that sex makes me sleepy?"  
  
Wanda smiled at him.  "I think you'd better go make that cuppa. Coronation Street's on tonight."  
  
"Samantha did email to say she’s reconsidered and would give Ben a chance."  
  
Wanda glared at Timothy.  
  
"I read her email.  Did you somehow miss the part that said if he really were as ugly in person as the photo, to forget it?"  
  
Timothy deleted Samantha and Jessica off the list. "Well, we have Donna Saint James left. I thought you had already contacted her."  
  
"She's been the hardest to pin down. Apparently, she helps her sister out with their catering business when she’s not out reviewing restaurants."  
  
"You told me her sister designs restaurant interiors."  
  
"That's right.  She also has a catering business on the side that Donna's a partner in. Carldonn Creative Catering.  It's in Paternoster Plaza, near Saint Paul’s. I took a walk past it Wednesday. They also sell a limited selection of food to the lunch trade from the the offices and flats in the area."  
  
Timothy smiled widely.  
  
"Perfect.  She and Ben can cater their wedding at cost."   
  
Wanda huffed.  "Alot you know. The bride's family pays."  
  
"I'm afraid you're behind the times," laughed Timothy.  "Nowadays the couple usually pays or the parents split the costs. We should have our agents try and line up some more jobs."   
  
"Call me old-fashioned, but I still say the bride's family should pay for everything,” Wanda said, nose in the air.  
  
“I prefer to call it cheap.”  
  
“How about frugal then?”  
  
“Sounds like a dance from the sixties.”  
  
“That was the frug, Tim.”  
  
“I think I might actually like thrifty.  How about if I call you thrifty?”  
  
Wanda laughed and patted his hand.  “Thrifty, it is!”  
  
Timothy scratched his head.  "Who payed for our wedding?"  
  
"We did."  
  
Timothy raised an eyebrow at her.  
  
Wanda shook her head and laughed. "Point made and taken.  I hate it when you're right."  
  
"And I love to hear you say that I'm right.  How about once more for old time's sake?"  
  
"I think I've said it enough for one day." Wanda plopped next to him on the couch.   
  
Timothy put his arm around her shoulders. "So, did you go into Carldonn Creative Catering or just walk past several times in an effort not to garner attention?"  
  
Wanda hesitated.  
  
 _Bloody hell!  He's just like Benedict.  Always gets back on track._  
  
"Well, actually, it was lunch time.."  
  
Timothy stared at her.  
  
"We've been married for 33 years, so don't think you can put something past me, Mrs. Cumberbatch. Of course you did."  
  
"Fine! I was hungry, so I went in and bought a sandwich and a coffee to have outside.  They have a few tables.  Her sister, Carla, waited on me. She was very sweet.  The food was also quite good.  I had to wait ten minutes in a queue just to get into the store."  
  
"I suppose you introduced yourself as her sister's prospective mother-in-law?"  
  
"Of course not! How would that look?"  
  
"Like you were being nosy, which you were."  
  
"Curious.  Not nosy."  
  
"If you say so, Ben.  I never realized how much you enjoy playing spy. Perhaps your agent can pitch a miniseries to the BBC starring you as a mature Mata Hari.  Then we could offer to pay for Ben's wedding with all that money, so we won’t look too thrifty."  
  
Wanda ignored the jibe and returned to their original conversation.  
  
"I'm thinking we could send Donna to the Tate Modern.  Ben was talking about going to the new Van Gogh exhibit that's opening next week.  He loves their fine dining restaurant, so he'll most likely go up for a bite and a drink. What do you think?"  
  
Timothy typed a note onto the spreadsheet and nodded.  "Sounds like a fairly solid plan to me, as long as he doesn't drag one of his friends with him.  Why don't you call Donna then?  She really seemed  interested in meeting Ben from what you told me."  
  
Wanda pursed her lips.  "I don't think we have to worry. He usually goes to exhibits alone. To be honest with you, I did like her best."  
  
"As did I," agreed Timothy.  "Let's forget about Frances, I think Donna's our best bet for a match. If the Tate Plan doesn’t work, we can always send Donna out to Parliament Hill as a backup plan."    
  
"Let's just hope, Benedict likes Donna as much as we do," said Wanda, fingers crossed.  She picked up her mobile and dialed the number Donna had given her.  She put her hand over the mouthpiece. "I'm getting her damn voicemail.  I'll try again later. Now, I can use your help upstairs in Ben's room.  When I was cleaning, I found my barn owls in his closet.  Can you help me arrange them back up on the shelf?"  
  
"Of course," said Timothy getting to his feet.  "And I thought you were going to tell me you found half his wardrobe under the bed.  He's always mucking around with those owls.  The least he can do is put them back out before he leaves.  It was easier when he just turned them around.  I never did understand why he has to do that.  They're just inanimate objects."  
  
Wanda fixed him with a look.  
  
"For God's sake, Tim!  Do I have to lay it out for you, dear?  We've discussed this before."  
  
Timothy paused as they climbed the stairs. He shook his head and laughed.  
  
"Oh.....No, you don't.  I would have thought he would have outgrown that by now. He's not twelve."  
  
"Heavens no!  He didn't really start that until he was 16 or 17, he was such a late bloomer.  He had a lot of lost time to make up for. Still such a lusty little dear, bless him."  
  
"Bloody hell!  That's not what I meant at all!   I meant I thought he would have gotten used to the owls being in his room after all this time is all."  
  
"Apparently, not."  
  
Wanda and Timothy exchanged glances, shrugged and went into the bedroom to restore the owls to their rightful perch.  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I don't know Jamie Oliver, nor does he own a restaurant called 'Comfort'. The friendship between Benedict and Jamie is also purely fictional - as far as I know. I am only a fan of his television shows and cooking style. 
> 
> 2\. This was an extra long chapter because I won’t be posting next week due to Thanksgiving!


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! I feel so humbled - over 10,000 hits - a huge thank you to everyone for reading! I so appreciate all the lovely comments and kudos!   
> Benedict and Donna's roller coaster getting-to-know-you dinner continues. Wanda and Timothy continue with the master plan.

 

Benedict Cumberbatch patted his lips, folded the napkin and placed it on the table.  He stretched, patted his comfortably full stomach and smiled at Donna. "I think I've had more than enough."  
  
Donna looked at the remnants of the dinner platter and nodded in agreement, as a busboy cleared the table.  The platter was just about empty, save for a few scraps here and there. "We certainly gave it our best effort,” she laughed.  
  
“That we did, and then some!” he concurred.

_It's refreshing to see a woman who's not afraid to eat and enjoy food._  
  
"I take it you would’ve approved of the offerings then?" asked Benedict with a sly smile.  
  
Donna rested her chin atop her folded hands. “You mean if I were working?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"I would give everything a very good review."  
  
"Except the kebab preparation."  
  
"Absolutely.  It would be my duty to mention that."  
  
"You're a tough critic."  
  
"I prefer to think of it as keeping the chefs on their toes," Donna said with a wink.  
  
Benedict rubbed the back of his neck and laughed nervously. "I'm glad you're not a film critic.  I'd be worried one day you'd rip my work to shreds."    
  
 _Oh, but my father is.  Be very afraid if you come up against him._  
  
Donna cleared her throat and took a sip of water.  She caught herself smiling at him – again.   _I need to stop smiling so much.  He’ll think I’m flirting with him.  Maybe I am just a bit. He looks so cute and boyish in this lighting. I would love to just lean over and give that thick, curly hair of his a good tousle._  
  
"Don't look now, but our server is bouncing over with a huge sundae," Benedict stage-whispered behind his hand.  
  
Donna turned to look and shook her head. "She does bounce quite a bit, doesn't she? I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone walk on their tiptoes like that.”  
  
Benedict nodded approvingly, as he looked Kelly over, “Yeah, everything just sort of jiggles around.” _Quite nicely, too,_ he thought to himself.  
  
Donna noticed Benedict’s eyes sweeping over Kelly, finally coming to rest on her breasts.  
  
 _Somehow I doubt he means bouncing in the way that I do._  
  
Benedict realized that Donna had caught him ogling Kelly’s breasts.  He swallowed and began to sputter, “Erm. Yeah. Her ponytail kind of bobs up and down and her...”  
  
 _Oh, shit, Benedict!  You’ve been caught, and you’re trying to waffle your way out of it.  Donna’s not stupid.  She knows exactly what you mean. You’re an arse. Just shut up, turn on your mouth filter and stop looking. It’s not like you haven’t seen tits before.  He ruffled the back of his hair and rubbed his thigh._  
  
Donna enjoyed watching the blush slowly creep up Benedict’s neck to his cheeks.   
  
 _Here we go again with the thigh rubbing! He looks like he wants to crawl under the table.  Jeez, why do guys have to be such jerks? I’m talking about the way she walks, and he’s referring to her breasts. Does he really think I don’t notice how he stares at her every time she comes near?_  
  
Kelly placed a tall ice cream sundae glass in between them, along with two long handled spoons.  She beamed as she stood back and prepared to describe the contents:  
  
"The Ultimate PB &J Sundae," she announced proudly.  "Chocolate, vanilla and peanut butter ice creams.  Valhrona chocolate fudge sauce.  Fresh strawberry sauce.  Peanut butter marshmallow fluff, brownie chunks, Chantilly cream and caramel popcorn.  Everything is made in-house. This is my favorite of all the puddings! Enjoy!"  
  
"I've noticed that everything is her favorite. I bet they grow the strawberries in-house," chuckled Benedict when Kelly was no longer within earshot.  "They must have a little window box somewhere to plant them in."  
  
"House-made and homemade are overused.  My favorite is 'handcrafted'. Of course the food is handcrafted!  Someone has to make it, so anything can be labeled handcrafted.  That cracks me up whenever I see it," Donna snickered.  
  
 _I think Mum and Dad just might like her. I could hear them chatting away in the lounge in Kensington. No, let’s be realistic here. I could hear Mum firing off a million prying questions – yet she has the nerve to call me Barrister Ben! After an hour of that, if Donna hasn’t left by then, Dad can knock her out with one of his potent cocktails. She’ll certainly need a drink after spending an evening with Mum. I know I sure as fuck would, bless her._  
  
Donna inspected the sundae and smacked her lips with delight.  "I loved this sundae when we had it during my review. I promise you, this is better than sex!  I almost ate the whole one last time. I had to fight my brother-in-law off."   
  
A horrified look immediately came over her face.  
  
 _Now, why did you make that stupid sex comment, Donna?  He's going to think you're coming on to him.  No more booze for you tonight._  
  
Benedict gazed at her with hooded eyes.  He smiled lazily at her.  
  
 _It would have to be pretty fucking amazing to be better than sex!  I would love to make her forget all about putting ice cream in her mouth.  Christ – I need to get laid._  
  
Donna pondered the two spoons.   
  
 _Oh, oh.  Jamie expects us to share this.  I really want that sundae, but I certainly don’t want his germs. How do I know where his mouth has been? I need to get out of this gracefully. Ah, I’ll just ask for an extra plate and hope he doesn’t feel insulted._  
  
Donna was about to request an extra plate, but Kelly scooted past too fast to get her attention. _Damn.  Just try not to eat where he puts his spoon._  
  
Benedict sighed. "I hadn't planned on eating anything else, but I have a terrible sweet tooth.”  
  
“Me, too!” said Donna.  “Dessert is my favorite course.”  
  
He picked up one of the spoons hesitatingly. “This really does look luscious."  
  
 _I hope she doesn't have a cold or anything like herpes.  I'm all for sharing if we were together, but we're not.  I don't really know her. I wonder if I can catch anything really bad from sharing?_  
  
Benedict suddenly put down the spoon and removed his mobile from his pocket. "Excuse me for a moment, Donna.  There's an important text I forgot to send."  
  
Donna watched as he sent off a quick message.  He held his mobile so she couldn't see what he was texting.  Less than a minute later a response came back.   He read it and furrowed his brow.  
  
Kelly returned with a fresh carafe of water for the table.  
  
"Could we have an extra plate, please?"  Benedict asked.  
  
“Can we please also have an extra serving spoon?” Donna added.  
  
Kelly fixed them with an odd look and shrugged.  
  
"Sure.  Be right back."  
  
Benedict and Donna stared at each other.  
  
 _She thinks I’ve got germs!_  
  
 _He thinks I've got germs!_  
  
  
  
  
  
"What did he want?" asked Timothy with a sigh as he settled into bed and switched on his reading lamp.  
  
Wanda looked at him through the mirror as she slipped the pale blue satin robe over the matching nightgown.   "He wanted to know if you could get anything really awful from sharing ice cream out of the same dish with someone."  
  
Timothy put on his reading glasses and opened his book to where he had left off.   "I wonder what he'd do if we weren't so readily available all the time? I feel like we're his medical information hotline. What did you tell him?"  
  
"That it's a good way to get glandular fever or worse. Remember when he had it at Manchester?  Poor Ben was so sick. The fever lasted for weeks. The doctor said it was from working too hard."  
  
Timothy peered up at her over his glasses and scratched his head in puzzlement.  
  
"Are you talking about someone else named Ben?  I only ask because our Ben didn’t work very hard at all during his first year – unless you consider all that partying he did hard work.  Then I will agree that no one worked harder.”  He shook his head. “Trust me, Wanda, there are many ways he could’ve gotten it, but from hard work wasn’t one of them. Olivia was the culprit.”  
  
“Nonsense.  She was in perfect health.  He must gotten it from someone preparing food in the canteen who had it.”  
  
“It was Olivia.  They were sharing more than food, Wanda."  
  
Wanda huffed and began to brush her hair. "Well, it's one of the ways to get it.”  
  
"If I recall, Olivia had it before she met Ben but was still a carrier when they got together at Uni.  The doctor said the germs were still present in her saliva, so he picked it up from either kissing, eating off the same utensils or their lovely habit of sharing a cigarette and a drink.  Therefore, he didn’t get it from working too hard.”  
  
 _Oh, bloody hell!  How he loves to prove me wrong!  He would have made an excellent barrister.  I could just see him presenting his case at the Old Bailey._  
  
Wanda stopped brushing her hair to consider what her husband had told her. “Now that you mention it, I do recall the doctor telling us that.  Anyway, I told him to play it safe and ask for an extra dish."  
  
She caught sight of Timothy’s reflection in the mirror.   He was sitting with arms crossed, smirk on his still handsome face.  
  
“Does this mean you’re not going to tell me I was right?”  
  
Wanda inspected her hair in the mirror.  “Quite right.”  
  
“Do you mean I’m quite right or did you mean quite right as in you’re not going to tell me I was right?”  
  
“For fuck’s sake, Tim!”  Wanda banged her brush down on the dresser in exasperation.  “Can you _alway_ s be right?”  
  
Timothy resumed reading his book, wearing a self-satisfied smile.  “Yes, I can and nothing warms the cockles of my heart more than to hear you say it.”  
  
"I’d like to warm your cockles,” muttered Wanda crossly.  
  
“Did I just hear you offer to warm my...?”  Timothy waggled his eyebrows at her.  
  
“Your cockles, not your cock!” snapped Wanda as she took off her robe and placed it at the foot of the bed.   
  
“You know I was reading that as women get older, their sex drive gets stronger.  I think you have proven this to be true many times over.”  
  
“Do you think it's too late to call Donna about meeting Ben?" asked Wanda, changing the subject as she climbed into bed beside him.  
  
Timothy closed his book and glanced over at the bedside clock, which was a much smaller version of the bird clock they had downstairs in the lounge.  It was a quarter to ten.   
  
"It's just about nightingale o’clock as we like to say here in the country, so I'd call now if you're going to.  Coronation Street starts as soon as the bird sings, so keep it brief."  
  
Wanda picked up her mobile and punched in Donna's number.  It began to ring.  
  
  
  
  
"Mmm... I love the peanut butter fluff," purred Benedict.  "You're right, this might actually be better than sex." _Though I really, really like sex, too._  
  
"I actually didn't mean that," Donna giggled nervously. "It was a poor attempt at a joke." _It was a very poor AND very dumb attempt._  
  
Benedict cocked his head at her and raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I think you did mean it," he said in a playful tone.  
  
Then he noticed her cheeks had reddened slightly, and she was looking down at the table.  _For fuck’s sake, Benedict!  You really have a talent for knowing exactly what not to say. Now she feels uncomfortable._  
  
He cleared his throat.  “I'm just teasing you, Donna.  I know what you really meant."   
  
Neither of them said anything for several seconds. Then Benedict heard a barely audible sigh of relief from Donna.  He felt better when she looked up to meet his gaze, the sparkle back in her eyes.  
  
"So, you're a psychic as well as an actor," mused Donna.  "Are you doing anything now?"  
  
"Well, I haven’t done many seances lately, but if you’re interested in having your palm read....”  
  
Donna shook her head and laughed.  “I mean with your acting!”  
  
“Audio books and adverts, mostly,” said Benedict. “I'm waiting to hear back on a couple of auditions. As a matter of fact, I'm going to be doing a modern version of..."  
  
Donna's cellphone rang.  She looked down at it and frowned slightly. She didn't recognize the number.  
  
"Do you mind if I take it, Benedict? I always get nervous when I see numbers I don't recognize being I'm so far away from my parents."  
  
"Please. This way I can eat all the peanut butter fluff while you're talking."  
  
Donna smirked at him as she answered the call.  "Hello?"  
  
"Hi Donna, its Wanda Ventham.  I hope it isn't too late."  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Yes, that PB&J sundae was one of the best ever desserts. Sadly, it no longer seems to be on the Barbecoa menu.  
> 2\. My editor and proofreader has been ill, so I've been on my own for the last chapter and this one. My apologies that it is taking longer than usual.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The getting-to-know-you evening continues with a series of crazy phone calls.

 

Donna Saint James suddenly sat up ramrod straight, her eyes wide and dropped her spoon on the table, which startled Benedict momentarily.  She felt herself starting to panic.   
  
_Oh my God! It’s Wanda!  Talk about bad timing. It's been two weeks since we had tea and now she calls?  I thought she forgot about me. She must have a meeting set up so I can meet her son.  I really need to take this call to see what's going on._   
  
Donna cast a wary glance at Benedict.  He was eating some fudge sauce off his spoon and studying her with curiosity.  There was a tiny bit of fudge on the corner of his mouth.  
  
 _Jesus Christ, I've never seen anyone eat like that. There's something very sensual about him.  I **so** want this guy._   
  
_"Hello? Donna? Are you there?"_ came Wanda's voice.  
  
 _Calm down, Donna.  He doesn't need to know who you're talking to, but you can’t just ask him to leave. Excuse yourself and take it in the ladies room. You just met him.  It's not like you're dating him.  He's just a dinner companion.  It's Wanda's son you want to date._  
  
 _“Donna?  Can you hear me?”_  
  
"Yes,” she replied hesitatingly. “If you'll just hold on for another minute."  
  
 _"Did I interrupt something?"_ asked Wanda.  _"If so, just ring me back as soon as you can.  I finally figured out how you and my son are going to meet."_  
  
"No! Not at all. I just want to go where the reception is a bit better. Hang on."  
  
Donna looked sideways at Benedict.  He appeared to be occupied with the peanut butter fluff, but she knew better.  He was hanging on her every word.   She desperately wanted to talk to Wanda, yet didn't want to appear rude in front of him.  Donna began to reach down for her handbag as she tried to get off the stool.  The stool began to move, and she stopped.    
  
_Oh holy hell!  Friggin stool. I’m stuck here!_   
  
Benedict had observed the change in Donna’s demeanor as soon as she answered her mobile, and his curiosity was peaked.    
  
_She seems rather nervous.  It's obvious that she needs to take this call but isn't comfortable talking in front of me.  Time for a loo break before she kills herself trying to get off that stool._   
  
Benedict quickly placed his napkin on the table and got to his feet. "Please stay and take your call. I'll be right back," he whispered to her as he headed to the mens room.   
  
As soon as his back was turned, Donna let out the breath she hadn’t realized that she’d been holding.   
  
_Thank God he finally had to pee!  And he called me a camel.  I was beginning to think he was the camel after all the liquid he drank tonight!_  
  
  
  
  
  
Timothy listened as Wanda asked Donna Saint James if she liked Van Gogh when his mobile rang.  Wanda shot him a look.  Timothy recognized the number, picked it up and nodded affirmatively at Wanda, who rolled her eyes.  
  
"Hello Ben.  I thought you were out with Adam and Alice tonight."  
  
 _"Things didn't work out entirely as planned, Dad.  Jon's sick, so they cancelled.  I decided to stay and have dinner.  So, what are you and mum doing out there all alone in the country?"_  
  
Timothy watched as Wanda animatedly laid out the Tate Modern game plan for Donna.  
  
 _Oh, just another quiet Friday night in Gloucestershire. I'm listening to your mother arrange an accidental meeting with the girl we hope will one day be your wife, but aside from that nothing special._  
  
"Nothing special.  Just passing the time until Coronation Street starts."  
  
Timothy listened to Wanda ask Donna if she had seen Benedict's photo.  
  
 _“Dad?  Are you there?”_  
  
"Yes, shall we expect you for Sunday lunch then?"  
  
"I haven't thought that far ahead," replied Benedict nonchalantly.  
  
 _Of course you haven't, silly me,_ thought Timothy.   
  
Wanda covered her phone's mouthpiece and whispered to Timothy, "She can't open the bloody file with Ben's photo.  Any idea why?"  
  
Timothy covered his mouthpiece and whispered back, “Not a one.  Perhaps the file got corrupted.  Just tell her what he looks like, but leave out horse-faced.”  
  
 _“Dad?  I’m having trouble hearing you.  Did you say something about horses?”_  
  
“Um..Yes.  Your mother’s been trying to talk me into taking up horseback riding again.  It’s a pity we get such awful mobile service out here in the country. Did you hear back on those auditions yet?”  
  
As his son was giving one of his long-winded responses, Timothy returned his attention to his wife’s description of Benedict to Donna.  He covered the mouthpiece with his hand and whispered to her.  
  
"Don't forget to mention that he resembles a Greek god.”  
  
Wanda froze in mid-sentence and stared at him in bewilderment. “Bloody hell? What are you babbling about?”  
  
“When we first met, you did say I looked like a statue of a Greek god, and you’ve pointed out to me only recently that Ben looks very much like me.”  
  
 _“Dad?  Did I just hear you mention something about Greece?”_  
  
“Yes, another thing we’ve been batting around.  Your mother has always had a keen interest in Greek sculpture, and I thought we could quench her insatiable thirst for knowledge with a quick trip to our vacation home.”  
  
Timothy flinched and suppressed a laugh when Wanda leaned across the bed and hit him square on the head with one of her pillows.   She stuck her tongue out at him.  
  
 _“It’s hotter than hell this time of year, Dad.  Why don’t you just go in the winter?”_  
  
Timothy was really enjoying himself.  He smiled at Wanda and whispered,   “Don’t forget to tell her that he has your creepy preternatural eyes.”  
  
Wanda tossed a pillow at his head, but missed.  
  
“That was rather lousy aim, Wanda, considering the close quarters in this bed!” taunted Timothy with a big smile.   
  
_"You sound muffled, Dad.  What did you say?"_  
  
"Your mother wants to have a pillow fight is all. The country air brings out the feistiness in her."  
  
There was silence on the other end.   
  
_"Well, I should be getting back to my table.  I was just killing some time in the loo."_  
  
 _Killing time in the loo? I might as well ask why. He's going to tell me anyway._  
  
Timothy sighed. "Why?"  
  
There was silence on the other end.  
  
 _Interesting. He's never at a loss for words.  Something's up._  
  
 _"It's a rather long story..."_  
  
Timothy let out another sigh.   
  
_All of his bloody stories are long._  
  
 _"But I don't have time to go into it now."_  
  
 _God smiles down upon me._  
  
 _"The short of it is..."_  
  
 _No such thing as short in his vocabulary._  
  
 _"I met this girl, and she had to take a phone call.  I wanted to give her some privacy."_  
  
Timothy sat up straight, curiosity peaked.  He tuned out Wanda’s conversation with Donna, so he could concentrate on his son’s words.   
  
_Blimey!  That's a first. Short AND wants to give the lady privacy.  Normally, he would have stuck around to eavesdrop._  
  
 _"I'm seriously thinking of asking her to have dinner with me at the Tate Modern next week.  The Van Gogh exhibit is having a preview for museum members only next Friday night.  Actually, I think I may have mentioned it to you and Mum."_  
  
 _Did he just say he plans to go to the Tate Modern on a date? This is going to put a crimp in Wanda’s plot._  
  
"Well, I'm certainly looking forward to hearing all about it," said Timothy.  _I’m more interested than you’ll ever know._   
  
_"Please, Dad, whatever you do, don't tell Mum.  You know how she gets. She'll be looking to book the church. I haven't totally made up my mind yet about the date. I mean I'm pretty sure I'm going to ask her, but I'm not completely sure. I fancy her, but I just met her tonight. I'm just about back at the table. Got to go. Cheers."_  
  
"Forever waffling," mumbled Timothy to himself as Benedict rang off.   
  
  
  
  
  
"The coast is clear, Wanda.  I can talk now," said Donna as she watched Benedict walk away.  He looked to be six feet tall and was very slender except for his bottom, which was on the ample side.  His snug black jeans hugged it in a most pleasing way.  
  
 _What a fine looking butt he has. I wouldn't mind giving it a little squeeze – or two._  
  
 _"Do you like Van Gogh, Donna?"_ asked Wanda.  
  
"Very much."   
  
Donna tipped the sundae glass towards her plate and scooped out some more of the partially melted confection.  She stole another look over her shoulder to make sure Benedict was out of sight.  Suddenly, she felt something cold and wet on her hand. When she turned her attention back to the plate, she found to her horror that she had scooped the dessert onto her hand and the table.    
  
"Shit!"  
  
 _"Did you say something, Dear?"_  
  
"Oh, no. I wasn’t paying attention and  just spilled something. Hang on a minute."  
  
 _Why am I not surprised?_ Thought Wanda.   
  
Donna hastily took her napkin and wiped the ice cream off her hand.  Then she quickly began to blot the melted dessert off the table. One napkin wasn't enough so she took Benedict's napkin and finished cleaning up.  She folded the napkins so the mess wasn’t visible and placed them on the table as she looked around for Kelly to get clean ones.  She returned to her conversation with Wanda.  
  
"Um, yes, I do like Van Gogh. Very much."   
  
_"Excellent. So does my son!  There's a temporary Van Gogh exhibit opening at the Tate Modern Friday night that he's plans to attend," explained Wanda. "Starry Nights is going to be on display, and he wants to see it badly."_  
  
"That is truly his masterpiece. I've seen it at MOMA many times. I didn't realize the exhibit was on tour. I'd love to see it again. How do you know he's going to be alone?  He may take along a date or a friend."  
  
 _"He always goes alone and likes to have a drink and dinner afterwards at the restaurant on the fifth floor.  My husband and I think it will be the perfect place for an accidental meeting."_  
  
"Certainly sounds like a good idea," agreed Donna.  "I'll need to know what time he'll be there."   
  
"Excuse me for one minute, Donna. My husband’s trying to get my attention."  
  
Donna heard the sounds of excited muffled conversation on Wanda's end.  
  
 _"Donna, my husband just pointed out that it's a preview for museum members only. Our son has a membership."_  
  
"That’s a problem.  I'm not a museum member, Wanda, so I can't go in. I'm not going to stake out the exhibit all day until he shows up."  
  
 _"Not to worry. We have a couple of choices.  You can be outside the exhibit and strike up a conversation when he comes out - maybe ask him what he thought of it.  Better still, you can follow him upstairs to the bar. Then when he has a pre-dinner drink, you'll sit right next to him. I have no doubt that he’ll find you attractive and strike up a conversation.  I'll find out the time and let you know.  Did you get the photo I emailed?"_  
  
Donna nervously glanced back over her shoulder.  Benedict was nowhere in sight.  
  
"Yes, but I couldn't open the file.  I still have no idea what he looks like or what his name is for that matter.  I really need to know these things.  I just can’t strike up a conversation with any 30-something guy who comes out of the exhibit!"  
  
There was the sound of more muffled conversation coming from Wanda's end.  Finally she came back.  
  
 _"I don't understand why you couldn't open it.  Anyway, you'll know him when you see him. He's tall and thin with ginger hair and blue eyes. I think he's quite handsome, but I've been reminded many times that I'm partial," Wanda laughed heartily._   
  
"What's his name?"  
  
 _"Ben."_  
  
"As in Benjamin?"  
  
Donna glanced back to see Benedict fast approaching the table.  He was stuffing his mobile back in the front pocket of his jeans.   
  
_Shit!  That was quick._  
  
 _"No, as in Ben-"_  
  
"I've got to go now, Wanda.  Please keep in touch!" Donna said in a rush as she cut the connection before Wanda could finish.   
  
Benedict smiled and pulled his stool a bit closer to her as he sat down.  He noticed that she appeared rattled, as if he had returned at a bad moment.   
  
"Not bad news was it?" He asked softly.   
  
"No.  Nothing like that."  
  
He patted her hand.  "Just take a deep breath.  Fancy a drink?"    
  
"I wouldn't mind a hot cup of tea," replied Donna.  "Unless you have to be somewhere?"  
  
"Nope." _There's nowhere else that I'd rather be right now._   
  
Before she could stop him, Donna watched in dismay as an unsuspecting Benedict settled onto the stool, picked up his napkin and shook it open without looking at it.  
  
“NOOOO!”  Donna exclaimed as she reached out to grab the napkin from him.  “Don’t use that nap...”  
  
Benedict felt something cold and wet land on his lap.  He peeled back the napkin to see his jeans covered in melted ice cream and toppings.  He looked up at Donna, wearing a quizzical expression.   
  
“Aren’t you full of surprises!  The last thing I expected was a booby-trapped napkin. Was it something I said?”  
  
Donna sniffed and pretended to study her hands.  _Why do these things always happen to me?  Just when we were getting along!_  
  
“I’m so, so sorry, Benedict!” She began in a barely audible voice. “I was trying to scoop out some of the sundae onto my plate, and I wasn’t paying attention because I was on the phone.  Then all of a sudden, there was this big puddle of melted ice cream on the table.  I used our napkins to wipe it up and....”   
  
Benedict lightly touched her hand in an effort to try and ease the tension.   
  
“I get the picture.” He began to clean off his jeans with the clean side of the napkin.  “It’s okay, Donna. It’s time these jeans were washed.  You must have sensed they needed a cleaning and were just helping matters along.” He teased and winked at her, making her feel better instantly.    
  
She smiled gratefully at him.  
  
“I’m glad you’re not angry, Benedict.  If you wouldn’t mind handing me my bag, I’ve got something that will keep the stains from setting.”  
  
Benedict leaned down and picked up the huge brown leather bag. “Christ, this is heavy! You could break someone’s foot, if you dropped it the right way.”  
  
Donna thought back to the day she had tea with Wanda at the Orangery and had dropped the bag on the older woman’s foot.  _Poor Wanda!  I almost broke her foot._  
  
“Well, it’s not quite that heavy, but it could cause a sore instep.”   
  
Benedict watched in fascination as she rummaged around in the bag and finally pulled out one of the stain removal packets she had described.   
“May I ask just what in the hell do you have in there?”  
  
“Oh a little of this, and a little of that.  Some makeup, some sundries. Not really all that much.”  
  
“I suppose you wouldn’t have something for sticky fingers?” Benedict joked as he displayed his fudge-covered fingertips.  
  
Donna beamed triumphantly and reached into her bag.  “I sure do!”  She pulled out another packet and offered it to him.  “Here you go!  This hand wipe will do the trick!”  
  
“Thanks!” said Benedict as he ripped open the packet and cleaned off his hands.  “You’re a handy person to have around,” he joked.   
  
_Well, at least he doesn’t hold a grudge.  That’s a good quality,_ she thought in relief.    
  
Donna idly watched as Benedict tore open the other packet and patted the small square over his jeans.  Her thoughts wandered to her conversation with Wanda.  
  
 _Well, at least I know her son’s name is Ben Ventham and what he looks like,   I'll look him up on the Internet when I get home._  
  
  
  
  
  
Timothy turned off his mobile at the same time Wanda turned off hers.  He picked up his pillow and aimed it at her.  
  
"Ready for our pillow fight?"  
  
Wanda ignored him.   
  
"You weren't playing fair, darling.  I was on the phone."  
  
Wanda rolled her eyes, laughed and heaved one of her pillows at him, barely clearing his head.  Timothy took aim and watched his pillow bounce off Wanda’s head and land on the floor.  
  
"If we're going to make this a Friday night ritual, I think we should get a bigger bed so we have a larger playing field," suggested Timothy.  He cleared his throat. "I don't know if you realize it, Pet, but you told Donna your last name was Ventham."  
  
Wanda had gotten out of bed to retrieve Timothy's pillow and tossed it back at him.  "Yes, I did it on purpose."  
  
Timothy fluffed his pillows behind his back. He regarded her with a frown.  "Are you suddenly ashamed of being a Cumberbatch?  I fear I may have to take offense."  
  
"Says he who uses Carlton whenever it suits him," reminded Wanda with a smirk.  "Ventham was easier than getting into the whole Cumber-mess with her. I did want to finish before Coronation Street."    
  
Wanda settled back against the headboard, picked up the remote and turned the telly on. She looked very pleased with herself.   
  
"Anyway that went well!  Donna's on board with the Tate Modern plan for next week. All I have to do is find out what time Ben's planning on going.  I'm not going to worry about the exhibit itself.  She can follow him up to the restaurant when he comes out. I'd say it would be some time in the late afternoon."  
  
"I hate to burst your happy little bubble, but while I was on the phone with the groom-to-be, he mentioned a curious development."   
  
"There's always a development when Ben's involved. Did you ask him if he's coming up for Sunday lunch?"  
  
"Yes, and it was the farthest thing from his mind."  
  
"Why is that?"  
  
Timothy picked up the remote and turned off the telly.  He turned to face his wife.  
  
"It’s a good thing you have Parliament Hill Market as a backup plan in mind. Because to loosely quote from one of my favorite movies: Houston, we may have a problem."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided this was the perfect chapter to use Benedict's famous line about what he would do if he met the future mother of his children. :-)
> 
> I posted this chapter a bit early due to the upcoming holidays, as I don't know how much online time I'll have in the next couple of weeks!


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Getting-to-Know-You dinner ends. Will Benedict finally make his move?

 

Benedict Cumberbatch and Donna Saint James were still chatting away when Jamie Oliver approached the table.  He sat at the empty stool with a mug of black coffee.  He regarded Benedict and Donna.  
  
"I hate to have to interrupt your conversation, but we'll be closing shortly.  As nice as it is here, my staff is rather fond of going home."  
  
Benedict checked his watch.  It was almost twelve thirty.  He and Donna had been talking for hours.  He couldn’t believe how quickly time had passed.  He had been pleased to discover that they had many shared interests.  Benedict found her adventures as a food critic quite entertaining. He thought her very charming and was disappointed that the night had to end.   
  
Donna had enjoyed listening to Benedict speak about acting. She admired his passion for and commitment to his profession.  He also had a wicked sense of humor that appealed to her.  She was surprised to find that they had so many common interests. Donna was mesmerized by his rich, baritone voice. There was something very sensual about him, yet he still had an air of innocence.   
  
"Then I will take my cue and be going," Benedict chuckled as he got off the stool.  He shook hands with Jamie. “Thank you for a delicious meal. Let’s get together soon.”    
  
Benedict held out his hand to help Donna off the stool. “Shall we?”  
  
Jamie raised his eyebrows and looked at Donna.  
  
"You’re forgetting something. We haven't had our chat yet, Donna.  That was the sole purpose for my dinner invitation.  So we could discuss your review. It won’t take long. Could you excuse us for a few minutes, Benedict?"  
  
"Yeah, of course. I'll just make myself scarce."    
  
Benedict surveyed the vacant tables.  _Let’s see, which of theses tables will allow me to sit close enough to hear them, yet not appear obvious._ He quickly selected a table and removed his mobile from his pocket.   
  
  
  
  
Donna tossed her hair back and drank some tea.  She quickly peeked over her shoulder to see where Benedict had gone.  He was sitting at the next table with his back to her.   
  
_Why am I not surprised that he picked a table that's close enough to hear everything?  He's a piece of work.  Looks like he's busy texting for now.  Good._  
  
Donna shook her head and returned her attention to Jamie, who had noticed the same thing.  The pair smiled knowingly at each other.  Then the sandy-haired chef pulled a sheet of paper out of his apron pocket and unfolded it.  He placed it on the table and smoothed the wrinkles out of it. Donna saw that it was a printout of her review.  He gestured to it.   
  
"I want you to know that part of me has been dreading this conversation.  I found myself on the verge of canceling out several times, but your review is eating away at me – excuse the pun.  I need to understand what influenced some of your comments, so I can make it better."  
  
Donna folded her hands on the tabletop. "I’m sorry you’re not happy, but I write it how I taste it; and not all of the food tasted good. Frankly, had my mom served food like that to my dad, there would have been a divorce."  
  
"Ouch!  That was rather harsh,” Jamie laughed bitterly. “All right then, let’s start with the highlights of your not-so-lovely introduction."  
  
Donna heard Benedict move his stool closer to hear them better. She turned her head to find that there less than a foot in between them.   
  
Jamie rolled his eyes, cleared his throat and began to softly read from the review.  
  
  
  
Benedict was feeling a bit frustrated that he couldn’t clearly hear what Jamie was saying.  He realized that they were speaking in low voices on purpose, so he wouldn’t be able to hear the conversation. Disgusted, he took out his mobile.  He saw that Adam had left him several text messages.  
  
 _Can't wait to hear about the territorial bitch you had dinner with.  A_  
  
 _It's not fair keeping  me hanging after a comment like that.  A_  
  
 _Next time I have a juicy tidbit, I’m keeping it to myself. A_  
  
Benedict laughed to himself and texted Adam:  
  
 _Are you still awake?  B_  
  
Adam responded almost instantly.   
  
_I shouldn't respond to you after you had the bollocks to text that you hated me. I’ve been your best friend all these years and that’s how you treat me? I’m deeply offended, not that you give a shit.  A_  
  
 _Stop being a cock. B_  
  
 _I should stop being a cock?  That's open to debate Bendydick. A_  
  
 _I sincerely apologize and to make amends, I offer my babysitting services, so you and Alice can have a night out. How does that sound? B_  
  
There was no response from Adam.  
  
 _How about two nights out? Better? B_  
  
 _Much.  Now, I'm in desperate need of some entertainment, and you're just the person to give it to me.  I'm in the nursery, sitting in a rocking chair with a sick baby sleeping on my chest. I'm afraid if I move; I'll wake him.  A_  
  
 _How can you text like that?  B_  
  
 _Very carefully. You'd be surprised what I’m capable of when I’m yearning for company - even yours. BTW, I've been staring at the starscape you painted on the ceiling for the past hour.  You're quite the artist. :-)  A_  
  
Benedict paused to listen to Donna and Jamie's conversation.  They had raised their voices slightly, but he still couldn’t make out what they were saying.  He carefully moved the stool as close to Donna as he dared.  Then not quite satisfied, he leaned back and accidentally made contact with her back.  He immediately sat up and moved the stool forward a bit, noticing that she had leaned across the table and lowered her voice even more.   
  
_Hello?  Are you still there? I just paid you a compliment.  Have you forgotten your manners? I could swear they were rather keen on that at Harrow.  A_  
  
 _I’m here.  Just a bit distracted is all.  Thank you for your more than generous compliment. B_  
  
 _No need to kiss up being I called you out.  A_  
  
 _Bugger off.  I really loved painting the room. I wish I had more time to devote to drawing and painting. Where's Alice? B_  
  
 _Sleeping.  We're taking turns. Though I sense my turn is going to last the duration of the night. A_  
  
Benedict paused once again to listen to what was going on between Donna and Jamie, but they were talking too softly for him to make out much of anything.   
  
_Hello? I fear I've lost you again. A_  
  
 _No.  I’m here. Jon's feeling better then? B_  
  
 _Either that or he's exhausted from crying.  We've got the humidifier on, and I can tell you that it's doing wonders for my sinuses.  Now tell me about this woman!  A_  
  
Benedict hesitated.  _How much should I tell him?_   
  
_I wound up staying here for dinner. B_  
  
 _I already knew that. You're still there? How many courses did you have?  A_  
  
 _It's a long story.  B_  
  
 _I'm not going anywhere.  I'm a prisoner in this chair until he wakes up. You have my complete and undivided attention.  A_  
  
 _Just a minute.  B_  
  
 _I sense that I don't have your complete and undivided attention.  Might you be eavesdropping on another conversation? A_  
  
 _I’m trying to, but to no avail. It appears the discussion is over; so I’m going to sign off. I'll text you details later.  Promise. B_  
  
 _Your parents were wrong to call you Barrister Ben.  They should have called you Nosy Nick.  Cheers. A_  
  
 _Let me leave you with a tidbit. Cherchez la femme.  ;-)  B_  
  
  
  
Jamie and Donna had spent the better part of half an hour discussing the review. Finally, after coming to an understanding on both sides, the chef yawned, folded the review back up and tucked it into his pocket.  Donna watched as he drained his coffee mug.    
  
'I'm really wasn’t trying to give you a hard time, Donna.  I just wanted to understand why you wrote what you did, and now I do.  Alot of it wasn't easy to hear, but I think I've got an idea as to what went wrong.  Now, I can make corrections."  
  
Donna smiled with obvious relief.  
  
"You know, Jamie, it’s rare for a chef to take the time to ask me about a bad review.  Many just read them, curse me out and go on.  Some do take the criticism and improve things, which benefits their business. I feel sorry for those who don't take the opportunity to try and turn things around."  
  
Jamie got off the stool and offered his hand to help Donna down.   
  
"Well, I don’t want to keep you any longer.  I'm going to get my staff together, and we're going to make it pukka.  I'm hoping you'll come back and give Comfort another try.  I appreciate you're coming in to talk with me."  
  
"That's good to hear," said Donna as they shook hands.  "You're an excellent chef and restaurateur. I'm impressed that you care about your business, and I promise you that I’ll make a return visit."  
  
  
  
  
Benedict and Donna walked out into One New Change Mall.  All the shops and restaurants were closed.  It was now after one o'clock in the morning.     
  
"I'm glad that you and Jamie got to sort out the review," Benedict said as they walked towards the down escalator.    
  
"Why were you listening to our conversation?"  
  
Donna’s frank question had caught Benedict by surprise.  He felt totally flustered, as they stood side-by-side on the escalator.   
  
"Um. I wasn’t really trying to listen. That would’ve been eavesdropping.  I wouldn't dream of doing such a thing," he replied nervously, as he rubbed the back of his neck.   
  
Donna looked up at him and smirked. "Yes, you were.  I saw you move your stool so you could hear what we were saying.  Then you leaned back into me – I know I didn’t imagine that! You're not as good at stealth as you think you are, Benedict."  
  
Benedict snickered slightly and zipped up his black leather jacket as they got off the escalator. He took his time adjusting a gray wool scarf around his neck while desperately thinking of something clever to say. All he could come up with was, "As you say in America - I take the Fifth."  
  
Donna gave him a knowing smile as they took the next escalator down.   
  
“Good try, but I’m afraid you’re guilty as charged, sir.  You can’t waffle your way out of this one. You were doing your best to listen in, and I caught you twice.  Even Jamie saw what you were up to.”

Benedict's face reddened slightly.   
  
_Shit! Well done me.  My curiosity got the better of me this time.  Christ, how I wish I could rewind the night.  I would have done so many things differently. I’m bad tempered, impatient and overly curious – she would never fancy the likes of me. Just admit it and move on._   
  
Benedict sadly spread his hands in resignation. “Yeah, I admit that I was dying to know what was going on, but you were talking too softly for me to make out much at all.  My...um..quest for knowledge sometimes gets me in trouble. Like now. I never should’ve done that. I hope you’re not angry with me.”  
  
They rode the last escalator down to the street level in silence.  The tension was getting to Benedict. He felt sick to his stomach.  He wasn’t quite sure if she was actually angry with him or not. He bit his lower lip and thought of what he could say to break the silence, but Donna beat him to it.   
  
“I’m not angry, Benedict,” explained Donna as they walked along to the exit.  “To tell the truth, I’m every bit as nosy as you are. I’ve always been like that.  My parents were fond of saying that I should’ve been a detective because I was always snooping around.”  She saw the corners of his mouth turn up in a smile. “They even used to call me Sherlock Holmes!” she added with a self-conscious laugh.    
  
Benedict glanced at her bashfully.  “My curiosity can be insatiable at times.  As a matter of fact, my parents nicknamed me ‘Barrister Ben’ because I was forever asking questions and sticking my nose where it didn’t belong when I was little.”  
  
Donna chortled and then sighed deeply.    
  
“Unfortunately, I haven’t changed much; but at least my parents no longer refer to me as Sherlock.”  
  
“Count yourself lucky, Donna.  I’m sad to say that I’m still known as ‘Barrister Ben’ at times, but I suppose I’ve earned it.”   
  
“Well, don’t we make a fine pair!” Donna giggled as she gently poked Benedict’s arm.    
  
Benedict found he liked the contact. “Mr. and Mrs. Nosy,” he added with a grin.   
  
“Yes!  That would definitely be us,” agreed Donna, continuing with the silliness that had taken hold of them. “With a house full of little nosy ones just like us trying to find out what’s in the boxes under the Christmas tree.  Could you just see it?”  
  
 _Yes, I think I could see it, actually,_ thought Benedict.   
  
They arrived at the exit to the street and Benedict pushed open the door for Donna.  She could see that the area was deserted.  There seemed to be no cabs or buses around.   
  
“Since the tube's shut down for the night, I thought we could share a cab," Benedict suggested.  "Where do you live?"  
  
"Oh, I don't need to take a cab. I live in one of the new apartment buildings on this side of the Thames.  It's right by the Millenium Bridge, so it's just a short walk through Paternoster Square," said Donna as she gestured in the direction of the river.   
  
Benedict frowned slightly. "Actually, I'd feel better if you'd let me either walk with you or share a cab.  Paternoster Square is rather deserted this late."  
  
Donna thought it over and quickly reconsidered.  "Okay.  I'll share a cab.  Where's home for you?"  
  
"Hampstead Village.  It's north of the city.  My flat is very close to Hampstead Heath!"   
  
"I've never been to Hampstead Heath."  
  
"Well, then you must come and visit me," said Benedict as he kept his eyes peeled for a cab.   
  
_That sounded like I asked her out.  Oh, Benedict, so smooth you are not..  That's wasn’t the way I was going to do it._  
  
 _Did he just ask me out? I’m not sure if that’s an actual invitation.  He suddenly looks very nervous, as if he wants to say something_.  
  
Benedict paused to study her. She was a good deal shorter than he was. He bit his lower lip and smiled.  
  
 _Tell her you had a good time and want to see her again._   
  
"Donna, I had a lovely time once we got everything sorted."  
  
Donna felt tingly inside and a bit excited by his words.   
  
_He really did have a good time!  Could he be interested in me?  Maybe he's going to ask me out?_  
  
Benedict felt the butterflies in his stomach begin to flutter.   
  
_Why does asking for a first date always have to be so awkward?_  
  
"I enjoyed being with you, too, Benedict. It turned out to be quite a fun evening. Where else can a girl have flying meat, travelling water carafes and sit on death-defying stools all in one night?"    
  
_I think she likes me. I wish my heart wasn't beating so damn fast._   
  
He cleared his throat and shifted his weight from foot to foot. "Donna, I was wondering if you'd like to go out on a proper date with me?"   
  
_There.  I said it.  Now, the agony until I get her response._   
  
She favored him with a dimpled smile.  "I'd like that very much, Benedict."  
  
Benedict extracted his mobile from his jeans pocket and handed it to her.  "If you'd be so kind as to put in your number so I can ring you..."  
  
"Sure, and you can give me yours," said Donna, reaching into her handbag and handing him hers.  
  
"Do you know any other Benedicts?" he asked almost shyly.  
  
"No. Why?"  
  
"I've got such a long last name, its easier to just put in my first name."  
  
Donna looked up from typing her information. "I don't know about that.  My last name is pretty long.  It's Saint James. Ten letters.  I could abbreviate the Saint to ST, but my parents wanted us to spell it out completely. They think it sounds more sophisticated.  What's your last name?"  
  
 _Here we go.  Wait until she hears it._  
  
"I do think I've got you beat. It's Cumberbatch.  Eleven letters.  Sounds a bit like a fart in a bath, doesn’t it?" Benedict said with an embarrassed laugh.  “I can never say it on a Monday morning.”  
  
"Cumberbatch," she repeated.  "Benedict Cumberbatch.  That is a mouthful.  Why did you choose that for a stage name?"  
  
 _For fuck’s sake!  Why does everyone think that?_   
  
"It's not a stage name.  I was nee Cumberbatch. When I became an actor, my Mum wasn’t keen on me keeping it.  I had a stage name for a brief time, but when I switched agents, he thought my actual name was more memorable."  
  
"And a very memorable one it is," agreed Donna as she finished putting in her number.   
  
"It's a very fluffy old name," added Benedict as they exchanged phones.   
  
"I think it's a nice fluffy old name."  
  
"You wouldn't if it were yours. Trying to make any type of reservation is quite a challenge."  
  
 _Don't be so sure. If I were going to marry you, I'd take your name in a heartbeat. What are you thinking, Donna?_  
  
A cab approached and Benedict hailed it. They rode in silence to the address Donna had given the driver.  The ride was less than ten minutes.  Donna paid the cabby for her part of the ride, after refusing to allow Benedict to pay.  Then Benedict asked the driver to wait as he walked her to the entrance to the apartment block.  It was a beautiful, modern-looking building right on the bank of the Thames.   
  
"I'll ring you during the week," he said taking her hand in his.  He lightly rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand.   
  
Donna felt a shiver up her spine. She wondered what it would be like to kiss those perfect cupids bow lips.  He was contemplating her closely as if trying to make a decision.  His eyes looked almost green in the light that bathed the front of the building.   
  
"I look forward to it," Donna said giving his hand a gentle squeeze.  
  
Benedict suddenly leaned down and brushed her cheek with a quick kiss as he squeezed her hand back.  
  
"Good night, Donna."  
  
"Good night, Benedict."  
  
Benedict waited as she let herself in the building. He got back into the cab and gave the driver his address in Hampstead. He took out his mobile to check his messages. The butterflies were slowly subsiding and his heartbeat was returning to normal.  Benedict was feeling elated that the evening had ended on such a high note. He took out his mobile and texted Adam:  
  
 _Are you still starring in the Prisoner of the Rocking Chair? B_  
  
There was no response. Benedict smiled to himself and sent his friend a text.  
  
 _Sorry I had to cut it short before.  To sum it up, the territorial bitch turned out to be anything but. It was a comedy of misunderstandings that we were able to sort out.  We talked for hours, and I really fancy her.  She's agreed to go on a date with me.  I'm completely over the moon!  Talk more tomorrow. Cheers. B_  
  
Benedict leaned back and closed his eyes.  He liked the fact that she was the first woman who hadn't made fun of his last name.   He smiled to himself, and allowed his mind to wander.   
  
_Donna Cumberbatch.  It has a rather nice ring to it._  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will be posting the next chapter asap, which is a special Christmas chapter. Please keep checking back for it!


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is my Christmas gift to all my lovely readers – an extra long chapter! 
> 
> Two characters have Christmas dreams: One that’s a bit naughty and one that’s not-so-nice! Lots of fluff, a bit of smut and a touch of angst abound. Enjoy!

 

It had dawned the perfect Christmas day in Gloucestershire as far as Wanda Ventham was concerned.  A light blanket of pristine, powdery snow from overnight covered the garden.  Benedict had arrived the day before with his family in tow, so they could all trim the huge seven-foot live spruce together.   
  
After cuddling with their grandchildren in a failed attempt to keep them from waking their parents, Wanda and Timothy had given in and gotten out of the warm bed to rouse their son and his wife. The smalls had assured her and Timothy that Father Christmas had come while they slept. Soon everyone was downstairs in the lounge opening gifts whilst eating a quick breakfast of coffee and Chelsea buns.  Timothy had made his surprise appearance as Father Christmas and handed out some extra gifts (that he had supposedly found in the bottom of his sleigh) to his unsuspecting four-year-old twin grandsons and eighteen-month-old granddaughter.   
  
Afterwards, they had all gotten dressed to attend church services in town. Wanda had felt truly blessed as she listened to the vicar’s sermon regarding a hope for peace on earth and showing good will towards your fellow man.  
  
Once the service concluded, the parishioners gathered outside to briefly chat and exchange holiday greetings before heading home or into the parish hall for tea and special holiday refreshments. Wanda and Timothy stood by proudly with their grandsons, Timothy and Benedict, while their son held court at the bottom of the church steps.  Benedict happily chatted, signed autographs and posed for photos with everyone who had stopped to pay homage to the Oscar-winning actor, director and producer.  His wife, Donna, stood dutifully by his side, holding their daughter, Wanda Pauline.  It warmed Wanda’s heart to see her hand-picked daughter-in-law gaze up at her son so adoringly.  
  
“See how lovingly she looks at him, Tim!  She just trembles in his presence!” exclaimed Wanda.  “If that isn’t love, I don’t know what is.”  
  
“Well, apparently you don’t, so allow me to enlighten you, pet.  She’s shivering because it’s so bloody cold out here.  She’s giving him a let’s-go-inside-you-dolt-before-I-freeze-my-tits-off look,” corrected Timothy.  “And I can’t say that I blame her.”  
  
“Nonsense!  Not with that heavy mink coat he gave her this morning.  She’ll be sweating in no time,” scoffed Wanda.  “Ben’s looking very well this morning.  His cheeks have such a rosy glow.”  
  
“They’re not rosy. They’re chapped from the wind.  Can we please just go inside the parish hall while he’s doing the meet and greet?  The smalls are getting cold and impatient.  I sense a mutiny on our hands soon.”  Timothy indicated the now fidgeting twins.  
  
Wanda bent down to address the boys.  “Timothy, Benedict, let’s go inside the church hall for a bit while your daddy talks to his fans.  I bet the vicar’s wife has some hot chocolate and Christmas biscuits!”  The boys nodded happily.  
  
“Let’s make sure Ben knows we’re going inside, so he won’t panic when he doesn’t see us,” suggested Timothy, guiding them towards Benedict and Donna.  “I haven’t forgotten the time he called the police the day I took them to the bathroom at Tesco without telling him. That wasn’t how I envisioned myself being featured as the Daily Mail’s top story.”  
  
Wanda gently poked his arm. “Look at how he makes eyes at Donna, bless him!  He’s so in love with her!”  
  
Timothy shook his head and laughed. “You’re eye-reading radar is a bit off this morning.  He wants her to take Wanda Pauline over to us.  The child is turning into a Popsicle.”  
  
“You know, Tim, placing that ad all those years ago was the best thing I could have done,” mused Wanda.  
  
“ _We_ could have done.”  
  
“ _I_ placed the ad.  _You_ joined forces with me later on.”  
  
As they approached the small group, surrounding Benedict and Donna; Timothy urgently tugged on Wanda’s coat sleeve and indicated a woman who had just finished speaking with the vicar and his wife.  
  
“Speaking of those good old days, I do believe I spy an unwanted blast from that not-so-distant past.”  
  
“Who?” asked Wanda as she strained to see who her husband was talking about.  
  
 _Bloody hell!  It can’t be!  Of all people!_  
  
Samantha Alden Thomas had just descended the steps of the church, eyes sweeping over the congregation. She was bundled up in a full-length sable coat and matching hat.  Her huge, pear-shaped diamond earrings glittered in the bright sunlight.  She was with an older man and woman, whom Wanda judged to be her parents.     
  
“Shit!  Maybe she won’t remember us,” Wanda whispered to Timothy.  
  
“Don’t count on it.”  
  
Wanda felt a sinking feeling in her stomach as Samantha’s gaze landed on her.  The woman’s face broke out into a wide smile as she lifted her hand to wave a greeting at Wanda.  
  
“She’s seen us. Crap!  She’s waving at me!”  
  
“Do you have a headshot with you?  I bet this time she’ll ask you for an autograph..”  
  
Wanda huffed and did her best to smile weakly at Samantha, feeling her heart start to pound.  Samantha made a beeline for her and Timothy, while the older couple she was with headed for the parish hall.   
  
“Wanda Ventham! I’d know you anywhere. And you’re still looking so  glamorous at your age, bless you! What’s your secret?”  
  
 _My secret is a touch up at the hair salon every five weeks and lots of age-defying makeup. Cheap flattery will get you nowhere,_ thought Wanda. _Though it is rather nice to hear._  
  
“See, I told you! She really is a fan!  Let me check my jacket. I might have a pen on me,” muttered Timothy as Wanda’s heel came down on his foot.  “Ouch!”  
  
“Sorry, love,” she said under her breath.  Then loud enough for Samantha to hear, “Forgive my clumsiness, sir!”  
  
“It’s been a long time since our first meeting,” Samantha said, extending her gloved hand. “I was only wondering what had become of you the other day.”  
  
Wanda heard Timothy whisper from behind her, “I might organize a fan club for you in my spare time to keep your fan base updated on your whereabouts.  She probably thought you were dead.”  
  
Wanda stepped back, again making contact with Timothy’s foot.  She heard him curse behind her. Then she winced at the still strong grip the woman still had.   
  
 _Shit!  Swearing already Wanda after you’ve taken communion? What is she doing here? Act.  Pretend you don’t know her and leave._  
  
“Unfortunately, I don’t remember how it is I’m supposed to know you,” said Wanda quickly as she looked around for Timothy, but he and the twins had suddenly disappeared. “Your face is a bit familiar, but I can’t place it.”  
  
 _Traitor Tim must have gone into the parish hall to get warm and guzzle hot chocolate, while leaving me here to defend myself!_  
  
“Of course you do!  We met at the Mayfair Hotel about eight years ago.  I never forget a face.”  
  
 _Give up and acknowledge her, Wanda.  You don’t have a choice.  If you deny it, she’ll keep insisting. You don’t need to attract attention, especially Benedict’s._  
  
“Oh, yes.  Now, I remember you.  I didn’t know you were part of this congregation.”  
  
 _And had I known, I would have changed churches._  
  
“I’m not, but my parents are. I only have a minute, but I just wanted to say hello and wish you a happy holiday.”  
  
 _Fine.  Now, wish it and wish it quickly!  Then get the hell out of here before Barrister Ben decides to join us and begin a cross-examination._  
  
Wanda’s eyes searched for Timothy and saw him standing behind a tree with the twins, making frantic motions at her.  The twins were giggling as they thought their grandfather was playing a game with her.  Wanda looked in the direction he was pointing in and almost gasped in horror.  
  
Benedict’s group of fans had disbanded.  He and Donna were walking over to join them.  His long strides were closing the gap between them quickly, as Donna trotted along after him trying to keep up.  
  
“Well, it was nice to see you again, Samantha.  Happy Christmas,” said Wanda brusquely.  
  
“Oh, isn’t that your son, Benedict Cumberbatch?” asked Samantha, flashing a smile in Benedict’s direction.  “I should have gone out with him when I had the chance.  I can’t believe how famous he’s become! Oscars and Emmys and Baftas! To think that I once called him horse-faced.”  
  
 _Among other things, you bitch. You didn’t think much of his career back then._  
  
“Yes, it is; but we really must be going...”  
  
It was too late as Benedict had reached them.  He smiled at the blonde-haired woman.   
  
Donna caught her breath, eyed Samantha up and down and handed her daughter to Wanda.  “I think you two should go inside and warm up. It’s too cold to stand around while he talks and talks and talks,” she whispered.  
  
 _As much as I want to, I can’t risk going inside and leaving them alone with her.  God knows what she’ll say.  I wish Tim would come out and take Wanda Pauline._  
  
“Hello,” Benedict said cordially to Samantha.  “I’m Wanda’s son, Benedict.  This is my wife, Donna, and our daughter, Wanda – named for her Gran,” he chuckled good-naturedly as he indicated Wanda.  
  
 _This is not good. I need to end this quickly before she has the chance to say anything.  I’ll just say we have to get back to the house._  
  
Samantha shook his hand, and Benedict’s eyes widened at her fierce grip.  “Samantha Alden-Thomas.”  
  
Benedict looked at Wanda and grimaced slightly.  He rubbed his gloved hand and returned his attention to Samantha.  “Pleased to meet you, Samantha. So, exactly how do you two know each other?”  
  
“We met at the Mayfair awhile back,” said Wanda dismissively.  “You know, Ben, I’ve got a turkey in the oven; so we have to get going right now before the house burns down,” she laughed nervously, while tugging on his coat sleeve.  “It was nice seeing you, Samantha!”  
  
Unfortunately, Benedict hadn’t budged an inch.  He and Donna exchanged worried looks.  
  
Donna looked puzzled. “What in the heck are you talking about, Wanda?  We’re going out for dinner. There’s no need to rush.  You have plenty of time to talk to your friend.”  She held out her arms to take her daughter back from Wanda.  “I’ll take her inside.”  
  
 _Oh, yes there is, you dumb daughter-in-law!  There is every reason to rush! And she’s not my friend!_  
  
Samantha eyed Benedict up and down as if he were a prime steak and she hadn’t eaten in months.  “I sure was wrong about you.  You certainly have aged well.  Like a fine wine.  I shouldn’t have been so cocky that day in Quince.”  
  
Wanda noticed that Donna’s eyes suddenly narrowed.  She peered at Wanda quizzically over the top of her daughter’s head.  
  
Wanda glanced at Benedict. She recognized the look in his eyes.  It was as if an alarm had gone off. Her eyes frantically searched for Timothy, but he was still no where to be seen.  
  
“What do you mean by that?” asked Benedict.  “You do look familiar, but I can’t exactly place you.”  
  
“I had responded to your mother’s ad in Craigslist for a daughter-in-law about eight years ago.  She interviewed me over lunch at Quince, and let’s just say it ended with a bang!”  
  
 _Let lightning strike me dead now.  He’ll certainly remember my toppling the table._  
  
Benedict’s ice blue eyes met his mother’s.  Wanda could see that he was beginning to put two and two together.  
  
“Now that you mention it, I do remember seeing you at Quince with my mother.  I thought you were Mum’s literary agent...”  
  
Samantha cackled as she lightly touched Benedict’s arm.  “Heavens, no!  She was trying to persuade me what a fine catch you were, but I wasn’t hearing of it.  I thought you weren’t particularly attractive and an unemployed actor to boot. How wrong was I?”  She turned to Donna.  “Darling, you’ve got yourself a real prize!  Did you respond to her ad, too, or did you meet him on your own?”  
  
Donna’s face turned several shades of red.  “I...um...we met at Parliament Hill Farmer’s Market.  We bumped into each other at the fresh pasta stand.”  
  
“That’s where she wanted me to accidentally bump into him!” exclaimed Samantha gleefully.  “She told me that she was sending out all of her candidates to have a chance meeting with him.  Then hopefully he’d fancy one of us.” She paused to catch her breath from laughing so hard.  
  
“Candidates?” Benedict asked Donna in a low voice.  “Candidates for a wife?  For me?  You were a bloody candidate?”  
  
Donna adjusted her daughter’s hat. “Well, I don’t know if candidate is the right word, Ben.  I was more like a....”  
  
Wanda continued to watch speechless as her worst fear unfolded before her eyes.  She tried to silence Donna by making a ‘button your lip’ motion, but Benedict caught her.  
  
Benedict’s lips narrowed into a thin line, as he took his daughter and held her close to his chest.  Wanda could just about see steam coming out of his ears.  “Donna?  Is that true? Did we meet by accident or did you answer her personal ad?”  
  
Donna put her head down and quickly glanced at Wanda under her eyes.  “Maybe.”  
  
“Maybe?”  Benedict raised an eyebrow at her.  “We’ll discuss this later.”  
  
Samantha suddenly pointed at Timothy, who was standing next to the vicar with the twins and chatting away as if he hadn’t a care in the world.  “There’s the man who was sitting at the next table that day.  I kept thinking he was a stranger, but then I caught him texting you.”  
  
Wanda smiled weakly. _Blimey! So much for subtlety.  I had no idea she noticed. Well done us._  
  
Benedict smiled thinly.  “Pray tell, I wonder who that man could have been?” he addressed Wanda, voice dripping with sarcasm.  
  
“On past reflection, it had to be your father,” snickered Samantha.  “Oh, my, I was so angry at the time; but now, I find it too funny for words."

_If it's too funny for words, then just shut the hell up! She's going to tell this story to the bitter end. My goose is cooked!  
_

"...Your parents scheming to find you a wife behind your back.  A famous star like you!  Well, it does seemed to have worked out.  Happy Christmas to you all.  Nice to finally meet you, Benedict.”  Samantha leaned in close to him and whispered, “Feel free to look me up if you ever get divorced.”  She opened her bag, tucked a business card in his coat pocket, winked at him and sashayed away.  
  
Donna glared at her back and then looked up at Benedict, who seemed lost in thought.  She bit her lip, looked meaningfully at Wanda and shrugged.  
  
Wanda wrung her hands and swallowed hard.  She began to laugh hysterically.  “Oh, you don’t believe her, do you, Ben?  She’s just joking with you.  She has a fabulous sense of humour!”  
  
Benedict handed his daughter off to Donna.  The little girl began to fuss at being passed back and forth between the grownups like a football.  “Take her inside and get her something warm to drink.”  
  
“Brilliant idea!  We could all warm up,” chirped Wanda in a desperate attempt to end the conversation.  She started to follow Donna.   
  
“Not so fast, Mum.” Benedict put his hand on her shoulder. He bent down so that he and Wanda were eye-to-eye.  When he spoke, his voice was low and full of venom.  
  
“I frankly don’t see the humour in a man being made a fool of by his mother. You’re lucky we’re on hallowed ground here.  You have alot of explaining to do once we get back to the house.”  
  
  
   
  
A log fire crackled merrily in the field stone fireplace.  Just a few minutes ago, Wanda and Timothy had been sitting in front of the hearth toasting marshmallows with their grandchildren. Wanda had mistakenly thought Benedict had decided to let things slide when they had arrived home after a sumptuous Christmas feast at their favorite restaurant.  Everyone had enjoyed themselves immensely. No further mention had been made of the Samantha debacle.  
  
Upon their return to the cottage, Benedict and Timothy had retired to the study to enjoy a Cuban cigar and a brandy, while Donna had disappeared upstairs to put the smalls down for a nap and to call her parents in the States.  Wanda relaxed by the fire, book in hand, a box of chocolate-covered caramels by her side, thanking her lucky stars that the incident at the church seemed forgotten.  The smalls had napped for two solid hours and woke refreshed and ready to play with the toys Father Christmas had brought them.  
  
Wanda felt particularly relieved when Benedict and Donna had gone up to his old room supposedly for a lie down, leaving her and Timothy to play with the children.  She had been lulled into a false sense of security, which was soon marred by the reappearance of Benedict and Donna. Her son was primed and ready for the confrontation she had been dreading in the back of her mind all those years.   
  
All hell had broken out within minutes of his first words, “Now, mother, we have some unfinished business to discuss...  
  
  
   
  
Wanda Ventham now stood in the lounge of her Gloucestershire home, tears streaming down her face.  Her eye makeup had run and her Santa hat had fallen off, forgotten on the floor.  
  
"I can't believe you would actually do such a thing!" yelled Benedict at the top of his lungs as he paced back and forth in front of the Christmas tree.  "Did you think I'd never find out? What did you take me for - a complete arse?"  
  
"Stop swearing in front of the children and keep your voice down, Benedict!" hissed Donna as she ran to close the window that had been left open in the study to clear out the cigar smoke.  "The neighbors will hear you!"  
  
"I don't give a motherfucking shit who hears me!  Let all of Gloucestershire hear that my own mother is a conniving liar!" Benedict shouted, nostrils flaring.  
  
Wanda wiped her eyes, spread her hands helplessly and looked pleadingly at Timothy.  He was sitting in his armchair cracking nuts, seemingly oblivious to the row going on in front of him.  
  
 _Can’t count on him for support, the traitor! Once again, I’m on my own.  I should’ve known he would do this._  
  
"We did it for you, Ben!  We just wanted you to be happy.  All we did was help you find a beautiful and loving wife, who has given you three adorable children. Aren’t you happy?"  
  
Benedict ceased pacing. "By the way, you can make that four children.  Donna just told me we're expecting a baby in the summer," he said proudly.   
  
Wanda blew her nose and smiled.  “Oh my!  Another small!  How wonderful!  Tim, did you hear that?  We’re going to have another grandchild!”  
  
"However, you will never know this one," spat Benedict, crossing his arms.  
  
Donna crossed the room and took her husband by the arms. She shook him.  "Hush, Benedict! Give your mother a chance to explain herself."  
  
 _What the fuck?_ Thought Wanda, blinking in surprise.  _She doesn’t need to do her share of explaining? She was in on it, too!_  
  
Benedict looked from his mother to his father.  "Well?" he demanded testily. “What do you two have to say for yourselves?”  
  
Timothy shrugged as he put down the nutcracker.  "I want to go on the record that it wasn't my idea in the first place. She's the brains of the outfit," he said pointing at Wanda.   
  
Wanda stared at Timothy in disbelief.  "Traitor!” she cried. “How can you stand there and pretend you had nothing to do with this?"  
  
Timothy pretended to study the pattern on the carpet while whistling ‘Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas’ softly.  
  
"Oh, this is just fucking great!" exclaimed Benedict as he pulled his arms free from Donna’s grip.  He rubbed the back of his neck.  "Both my parents going behind my back..."  
  
"Ben, I don't think this is the time and place," interrupted Donna sternly.  “Do it when the children aren’t around and put a filter on the swearing.”  
  
Benedict’s face was a mask of fury.  "Yes, it is!  My family has been lying to me for the past eight years!  And for someone who isn’t an actress, you played your part quite well, my darling wife.”  
  
"That's not the issue here, Ben! You need to forgive your mother and let bygones be bygones.  She only meant well, even if it was a lie." Donna reached out and patted the side of his face lightly.  "Please, Ben, don't make a scene.  The children are listening!"  
  
Benedict looked down at his twin sons, who were playing on the floor. They had been building a tower of blocks for their sister, who stood ready to place the last block on top.  Now, they had stopped and were all staring up at him with a mixture keen interest and fear. Benedict bent down to pat their heads and assure them that everything was going to be alright.   
  
He rose and placed his hands on his slim hips and resumed glaring at Wanda.  
  
 _I won’t let him intimidate me!_ thought Wanda.  _I can turn the tables on him and be Barrister Beryl._  
  
"You didn't answer my question, Benedict.  Are you happy?" demanded Wanda, regaining her composure.  
  
"Of course I'm happy!  I'm deliriously happy, Mother!  Can’t you see just how fucking happy I am?" he roared, voice dripping with venom.  “I can’t imagine a better Christmas present than finding out that my marriage is built on a lie!”  
  
"See, you admit that you’re happy! Then why make such a fuss?" challenged Wanda, hands also on hips. “You wanted a wife, you’ve got one.  You wanted children, you’ve got three and one on the way. Honestly, Benedict, you’re so dramatic sometimes. Stop being so stropy and count your blessings.  It’s Christmas for God’s sake!”  
  
Their ice blue eyes locked.  Finally, Benedict looked away.  
  
“You know I’m right,’ said Wanda haughtily.  
  
Timothy coughed.  
  
Benedict suddenly slammed his fist on the end table, causing all the ornaments on the tree to shake and rattle.   The twins cringed and his daughter began to wail. Donna knelt down to soothe them the best she could.  
  
“Hush, Benedict! Stop all the yapping and swearing!  You’re upsetting our children!”  
  
Benedict paused to take a breath, considered her words briefly and resumed his diatribe at Wanda.  
  
"It's the lie I can't get over!  Everyone lied to me!" he bellowed.  
  
“Benedict, you’re going to strain your voice with all this yelling,” warned Donna.  “Or did you forget you have your final performance of Macbeth tonight?”  
  
Benedict shut up like a clam.  
  
"I didn't want to be a part of it, but she seduced me," insisted Timothy as he pointed at Wanda again.  "She kept giving me 'the look' and promised sexual favors in return for my cooperation."  
  
"I told her I didn't want to lie to you," chimed in Donna, getting to her feet.  "She talked me into it!  She made it sound like it was no big deal.  I was wrong to believe her. I was coerced."  
  
Wanda shook her head in disbelief at her husband and daughter-in-law.  "How can you two stand there and lie?  Neither of you had any problem with the plan."  
  
" _Your_ plan," corrected Timothy.  “I always told you one day he’d find out.”  
  
"Yes, _your_ plan," agreed Donna.  “I was totally innocent.  I thought he knew all about it and approved.”  
  
Wanda looked at Benedict, flabbergasted.  "And you believe them?  They are just as much a party to it as I was!"  
  
Benedict shook his head, eyes flashing.   
  
"Sorry, but I can't live with this, Mum."  He turned his attention to his children. "Let's put the toys away. Daddy’s got to be back in London for work tonight," Benedict said quietly, as he got down on his knees and helped them put the blocks back in the toy box they kept in the cottage. He whispered to them reassuringly and hugged them.  "Let's go," he said finally, rising to his full height and gesturing to Donna.  
  
"We're leaving now, Donna. I don’t want to be late.  As a matter of fact, as soon as we get home, I'm calling the realtor in LA and telling him that we'll be buying that house in Beverly Hills after all."   
  
He shook his head in disgust at Wanda and Timothy.  "I don't want to live anywhere near you two."  
  
Wanda's eyes filled with tears again.  She felt as if she had been stabbed in the heart.  "Oh, please, Benedict!  Don't say that!  You wouldn't move away from us!"  
  
Benedict threw his head back and laughed scornfully.  "Oh, I wouldn't?  Try me, Mother!  We'll be settled in the States by the end of next month."  
  
"It's her fault, and I'm to suffer?  Please reconsider son!  They're my only grandchildren!" Timothy pleaded.  
  
Benedict shook his head sadly as he bundled his daughter into her coat.  His voice sounded a bit rough.  
  
 "As far as I'm concerned, I no longer have parents; so don't try and contact me.  I don't want my children to have anything to do with either of you.  If you send any gifts or mail, they will be returned unopened, rest assured. Happy fucking Christmas indeed!"  
  
Benedict dramatically slung the diaper bag over his shoulder, picked up his now crying daughter and stormed out of the house.   
  
Donna quickly dressed their sons and followed Benedict, holding onto their chubby hands.  She looked back at Wanda and shook her head at her disapprovingly.  
  
"This is what happens when you don't tell the truth, Wanda.”  
  
Timothy raced towards the door and pleaded with Donna.  
  
“But what about me?  You can surely convince him that I had no part in her scheme!”  
  
Donna laughed haughtily. “I'm sorry, Tim, but my loyalties lie with my husband. I’m not going to risk a divorce because of you two.  I live a charmed life with your son.  He treats me like a queen. Merry Christmas.”  
  
“The Wicked Queen!” shouted Wanda as Donna slammed the door shut. “I knew I should've picked Jessica.  She never would have turned on me like that!”  
  
Timothy sneered at Wanda. "You had to go through with your carefully crafted plan of deceit, didn’t you?  Now, thanks to you, we have no son and no grandchildren. Maybe it's time for a divorce."  
  
Wanda began to sob hysterically.  "Oh, no.  God, please don't let this be happening! I only meant well!  Please don't leave me, Tim!  I couldn't bear losing my whole family!"  
  
  
  
  
"Wanda?  Wanda!  Darling, are you alright?"  Timothy's voice asked with concern as he shook her awake.  
  
Wanda bolted upright in bed, sobbing and her heart pounding.  She was covered in a cold sweat and shaking uncontrollably.  
  
Timothy wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. "You were having a nightmare is all," he said as wiped her tears away with a tissue. He gently kissed her cheek and smoothed her hair.  "Take a deep breath and relax.  It was just a bad dream, love.  I'm right here. Nothing bad will happen.  I promise,” he said soothingly.  
  
Wanda blew her nose and nodded.  "It was an awful dream, Tim.  I'm so glad it wasn't true." She took a deep breath and allowed him to comfort her.  
  
"Want to tell me what it was about?" he prodded gently.  "Was I in it? Was Ben in it?"  
  
"Yes, but I really don't want to talk about it, Tim.  The important thing is that it wasn't true."   
  
After several minutes, Wanda felt ready to try and get some sleep. She kissed Timothy goodnight and hunkered down under the covers.  Unfortunately, she could still remember the dream in vivid detail.   
  
"Traitor," muttered Wanda as she turned over onto her side and fell asleep.   
  
Did she just call me a traitor? Wondered Timothy Carlton as sleep overtook him.

  
  
  
  
  
Benedict entered his flat, still feeling elated that Donna Saint James wanted to see him again.  He undressed, brushed his teeth and prepared to go to bed.   Unfortunately, sleep didn’t come easy to him.  His mind was racing and re-playing the events of the evening. He rolled over and stared at the clock, which was showing almost three am.   
  
 _I must be overtired. Maybe a bit of telly will help me to nod off._  
  
Benedict picked up his remote and scanned the channels, but there was nothing on that he wanted to watch.  Disgusted, he got up and looked through his DVDs, but nothing caught his interest.  Then he spotted some old VHS tapes that his parents had made over the years.  He pulled one at random and popped it into the old TV/VCR combo that he kept in his bedroom.   
  
After getting comfortable in bed, he hit ‘play’ on his remote.  To his delight, it was a tape that had been made when he was no more than twelve.  It was their first Christmas in the Gloucestershire cottage. Benedict fondly recalled how he and his father had gone into town and picked out a live tree, which was too tall for the smaller-than-average doorway.  Once they had cut off some of the bottom, they had all decorated it together.  His mother had been particularly proud of her popcorn and dried fruit garland.  Benedict smiled upon seeing the train set that circled the tree.  There was also footage of Wanda’s elaborate  Christmas Eve turkey dinner with all the trimmings, the table laid with her best tableware and decorated with a festive centerpiece of holly and Christmas greenery, flanked by tall red and green candles.  He enjoyed the part when his always proper Gran Pauline got tipsy on Timothy’s potent spiked eggnog and was singing Christmas carols off key.  Benedict laughed out loud at his uncle’s poor impression of Father Christmas, though at the time, he thought it brilliant.  
  
The scene suddenly changed to Christmas morning.  Just the three of them sat around the tree doing their stockings and his younger self was busy opening a pile of gifts.  That was the year his parents had given him a guitar and a new bicycle.  Benedict plumped up his pillow and scooted down under the duvet as he watched the familiar faces of family and friends who had gathered in the tiny crafters cottage later on that day to wish them well.  Before he knew it, he was drifting off to sleep as part of the night’s conversation played back in his mind:  
  
 _“Well, don’t we make a fine pair!”_  
  
 _“Mr. and Mrs. Nosy.”_  
  
 _“Yes!  That would definitely be us! With a house full of little nosy ones just like us all trying to find out what’s in the boxes under the Christmas tree.  Could you just see it?”_  
  
  
  
  
The sound of the doorbell buzzing woke him.  Benedict opened his eyes, but he found he wasn’t in his bed.  Instead he was lying on the couch in his lounge and the old Christmas classic, ‘Miracle on 34th Street’, was playing on the television.  
  
 _How in the hell did I get here?  I was in bed watching an old family Christmas tape._  
  
Benedict shook his head to clear the fog from his mind and rubbed his eyes.  The fireplace was lit and there was a live Christmas tree decorated with fairy lights and brightly colored glass ornaments.  His old train set was chugging around the base of the tree and there were nicely wrapped gifts piled next to the hearth.  The air smelled distinctly of pine and cinnamon.  As he walked over to examine the tree closer, the doorbell buzzed again as if someone were impatiently leaning on it.  
  
 _Christ!  Who could it be at this hour? Probably some wanker home late from a holiday party and thinks this is his house._  
  
He sighed and stomped over to the intercom and pressed the talk button.  
  
“Yes?”  
  
 _“Special delivery for Mr. Benedict Cumberbatch,”_ announced Donna Saint James’ voice.    
  
“Donna?”  
  
 _“Are you going to buzz me in or are you going to let me stay outside until I freeze into a block of ice?”_  
  
“Oh my God, no!  Not at all! Come up!”   
  
Benedict hit the button for the lock release and quickly checked his appearance in the entrance hall mirror.  He ran his hand through his sleep-mussed hair and noted his beard stubble was now visible.  He was clad in a pair of navy blue cotton sleep pants and maroon T-shirt.   He heard Donna’s footsteps on the stairs and swung open the door to greet her.  
  
“Did I wake you?”  
  
“Not really.  I was just dozing on the couch while watching an old movie.”  
  
“Good.”  She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him passionately.  “I just spent twenty pounds on a cab so I could have one of your kisses, so I expect my monies worth!”  
  
“My pleasure,” Benedict murmured as he deepened the kiss and began to unbutton her coat.  He pressed his tongue against her lips, hoping that she would take the hint and part hers.   
  
“Uh, uh!  Keep your hands to yourself, Mr. Cumberbatch!” Donna mock scolded him, smacking his hand away.  “I want to keep my coat on. I’m still freezing.”  
  
“I’d be happy to warm you up,” said Benedict as he continued to kiss her.  “Take off that coat, and come sit by the fire. I’ll make you a hot cup of tea.”   
  
“I don’t want tea.  I want more kisses, but not by the fire.”  
  
“You’re supposed to be on a plane to New York to spend Christmas with your family!  What happened?”  
  
Donna smiled and pulled him close to her so their bodies were pressing against each other.  She stood on her tiptoes and whispered in his ear,  “I forgot that I didn’t give you your Christmas present.  I couldn’t bear the thought of you being all alone on Christmas without a present from me to open.”  She traced his lips with her index finger and kissed him hard.  
  
Benedict leaned down and kissed her again.  He inhaled her scent – she smelled like peppermint. “Well, you’re a bit early. Tomorrow is Christmas Eve.”  
  
“It’s way past midnight, so it’s technically Christmas Eve.  Now, you wait here while I get your present ready.”  
  
“Where is it?  I don’t see anything,” Benedict began.  “Oh, it must be in your huge handbag!”  
  
“Maybe.  Maybe not,” teased Donna as she headed down the hall towards his bedroom.   
  
Benedict started to follow her, eager to see what she had for him.  She stopped at the door to his room, turned to face him and held up her hand.  Benedict could swear he heard the faint tinkling of bells.  
  
“Stay there!” she commanded.  “I’ll tell you when to proceed.”  With that she disappeared into his bedroom, slamming the door behind her.  
  
“Are you sure I can’t get you a drink or something?” he called out to her as he edged closer and closer to the bedroom door.  One of the floorboards suddenly creaked under his foot, giving his location away.  
  
 _Bloody hell! I must get these damn floorboards replaced._  
  
“No thank you!  I don’t need anything from you just yet.  Now, be patient, Benedict!  Go back to the living room and stay there.  I can hear you walking in the hallway.  You’re not as good as stealth as you think you are.  I just need a few more minutes, and I promise to make it worth your while.”  
  
 _What in bloody hell could she be up to?  How long can it take to remove a box from her handbag.  On second thought there must be an awful lot of crap in there to go through._  
  
Benedict reluctantly returned to the lounge and paced around the room.  He paused to look out the window.  The London skyline was lit up and looked beautiful against the darkness of the night. He went to the fireplace and poked at the logs so the embers would continue to burn.  
  
“I’m ready when you are!” Donna called from the bedroom.  
  
Benedict padded barefoot down the hall and carefully opened the door to his room. As he peeked in, Donna’s coat came flying through the doorway and landed over his head, blocking his view.  He quickly removed it and surveyed the scene before him.   
  
Donna was kneeling in the middle of his bed, which was now covered in red satin sheets.  She was clad in a red velvet bra that had a sprig of mistletoe covering the front closure.  There was a small candy cane tucked into her cleavage.  The matching red velvet thong was held together at her hips by two black leather belt buckles.  She was wearing a Santa hat, trimmed in white fur and jingle bells, on her head and seductively licking a larger candy cane.  
  
“Merry Christmas, Benedict.  How about a lick?”  
  
 _Sweet Jesus!  If this isn’t the best present I’ve ever gotten! This definitely trumps the bike._  
  
He pulled off his sleep pants and T-shirt as he quickly made his way across the room to the bed, almost stumbling from his mounting desire.   He watched as she gave the piece of red and white striped candy a long, sensuous lick.  Her hazel eyes met his as she flicked her tongue over the end of the candy cane and sucked on it.  
  
 _I’d like nothing more than to give you several licks – and I’m not talking about the bloody candy cane,_ he thought as he climbed onto the bed and planted a searing kiss on her now ruby red painted lips.  
  
She returned his kisses with equal fervor, running her hands through his curly hair as she ground her hips against his.  He caught sight of them in the mirror above his dresser, which only fueled his desire.  His hair was disheveled and her lipstick smeared on his mouth.  Her milky breasts threatened to spill out of the bra cups as her hands roamed over his body.  
  
Donna slowly pulled his pants off to reveal his now throbbing erection.  “Ooooo...and this must be my present,” she said with a wink as she ran her fingers up and down his length very gently.  “Mmm such a thoughtful gift - designed with my pleasure in mind. And from the looks of it, you obviously had me on your mind when you selected it.”  
  
She paused to bend down and lick the pre-cum that had begun to seep from his slit. “Mmm such a tasty present it is, too.  Do you know you have very, very smooth skin?  It’s as smooth as this velvet,” she purred as she placed his hand over her velvet-clad breast.  
  
 _Holy fuck!  Yes, that’s what I need – to be fucked, holy or not._  
  
Benedict leaned down and removed the candy cane from her bra with his teeth, burying his nose in her cleavage.  Her skin smelled of the peppermint. He held the candy between his lips, and she leaned in to take a bite.  Their lips met, their mouths filled with the candy.  Donna continued to stroke him and then increased the pressure as he groaned in ecstasy.  
  
He chewed and swallowed the candy.  “You are quite the imaginative one!” he breathed.  He could feel his pulse racing.   
  
“Aren’t you going to unwrap me?” Donna asked with a mock pout.  “I am _your_ gift after all.  Don’t you want to play with me?”   
  
Benedict unhooked her bra and removed the thong as he lavished kisses all over her face and started to work his way down her neck towards her breasts.  “Oh, yes.  I want to play with you more than anything..."

  
  
  
  
The sound of his text alert echoed in the room.  Benedict groggily sat up and stared at the rumpled pale blue cotton sheets that covered him. The red satin sheets were gone.  Donna was gone.  It was spring and the alarm clock was showing that it was almost ten o’clock in the morning. A beam of sunlight streamed in through a break in the drapes.  He realized he was still rock hard and took a couple of deep breaths while waiting for the erection to subside, which it showed no signs of doing anytime soon.  
  
 _Fucking hell!  It was a dream! But what a delicious dream! I need to take care of this hard-on._  
  
Benedict flopped back onto the bed and switched his mobile to silent.  He placed some tissues on the bed beside him.  Next, he removed his clothing from the waist down and lay back.  He began to slowly stroke himself as he imagined what would have happened had the text chime not awakened him.  
  
He could visualize Donna moaning as he parted her legs and licked her folds. She would taste and smell of peppermint with a faint hint of musk.  Her hands would be tangled in his hair, gently pulling at his sensitive follicles the way he liked it.  Benedict would have sworn if pulled the right way, his follicles had a direct nerve path to his cock.  Normally, he would take his time to savor the pleasurable sensations, but he needed – wanted a quick release.   
  
Benedict increased the speed and pressure of his strokes as he imagined bringing her to climax with only his tongue. His breathing had quickened considerably, and he felt the pre-cum on the tip of his cock. He began to vary his strokes from base to tip and swirling around the head to give it a gentle squeeze, all the while groaning and gasping as he became more and more excited.   He knew he wouldn’t last much longer.  
  
As he paid attention to the head with his thumb, he fantasized about Donna giving him a blow job.  He heard himself moan loudly with pleasure as he imagined her deep-throating him and swallowing his cum.  The fantasy was vivid enough that he felt himself on the verge of climax.  He rubbed along his frenulum and shuddered as he felt the familiar ecstasy of release.  
  
Benedict remained still for several minutes, catching his breath and enjoying the afterglow of his climax, which had been very satisfying.  He picked up the tissues and wiped off the sticky semen that was on his lower belly and genitals.

  
_If she were really here, she’d probably have some kind of wipe for after sex cleanups, he chuckled to himself._  
  
Benedict took the used tissues and dropped them in the wastepaper basket he kept near his bed. He smiled to himself. The dream had been so vivid, he was having trouble shaking it.  
  
 _Better check my texts._  
  
He took his mobile off silent mode and checked his messages.  There was one from Adam.  
  
 _Congratulations! Maybe your romantic prospects are finally starting to look up. A_  
  
He quickly typed a response to his friend.  
  
 _I think you might be right about that! How’s Jon this morning? B_  
  
 _Much improved! I’ve got lots of errands to do today, so Alice suggested we meet for a quick lunch. It’s my reward for staying up with Jon most of the night. ;-)  How about we meet at the Stag around noon?   A_  
  
 _Sure, but I’ll probably be a bit late. You know how I am.  B_  
  
 _Only too well.  A_  
  
 _Got to go.  I’ve got this awful craving for a cup of peppermint tea.  B_  
  
 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to do something 'Christmasy', but right now the story is in the Spring 2009 timeframe. So, I decided that a couple of holiday-themed dream sequences was the closest I was going to get. I hope everyone enjoyed it. 
> 
> I’ll be away for the holidays, so the next chapter will be posted after New Year’s. 
> 
> Happy Holidays to all!


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanda and Timothy suddenly find themselves with a flock of birds to worry about. The Cumberbatches wind up taking a detour to never-ending waffle-land.

 

Wanda Ventham finished spreading chocolate fudge frosting on the cake she had baked for her granddaughter, Emily. Picking up a piping bag filled with pink butter cream frosting, Wanda carefully wrote "Happy Birthday, Emily" on top of the cake. Once that was done, she arranged six pink butter cream roses around the curlicue script to her satisfaction. Finally, Wanda stepped back to admire her handiwork.  The cake had come out far better than she had hoped, and Wanda was feeling quite chuffed with herself.  
  
"Well done, Mum!  You could give the local patisseries competition!" said Benedict as he entered the kitchen applauding. He was clad in a white terry cloth bathrobe, hair still damp from showering. Wanda beamed as he inspected the cake closely. "Chocolate cake with cherry filling?”  
  
“Of course!  Emmy’s favorite.”  
  
“I'm also sure it tastes as good as it looks," he added while looking hopefully at the bowl of leftover fudge frosting.  
  
"I knew that cake decorating class would come in handy," laughed Wanda as she passed her son the bowl. “I know you won’t want this to go to waste.”

"Yes, tart that I am for licking the bowl!  It makes me feel like a kid again!"  
  
Wanda smiled to herself as she watched him scooping the remnants of the frosting onto his finger and licking it off – it brought back fond memories of when he was little.   
  
"I do hope Emmy likes it. She has no idea I made her a cake, so don’t say anything."  
  
“I _can_ keep a secret, Mum,” Benedict mumbled through a mouthful of frosting. "Mmm. Very tasty.”  He washed his hands, rinsed the bowl and placed it in the dishwasher. “She'll be over the moon that you did this for her. What time is Dad expected?”  
  
Wanda began to gather the ingredients to make salad dressing.  “I’m hoping within the hour.  He had one last scene to do before wrapping for the day.”  
  
“Shall I ring his mobile and see if he’s done then?”  
  
“I don’t think there’s any need. Everything’s under control,” Wanda replied as she minced a garlic clove.  “It’s been nice having you around today, Ben.  I appreciate your help with the hoovering and making the starter for tonight.”  
  
“And I appreciate your hot water,” laughed Benedict as he put his arms around Wanda and gave her a hug. “It’s the least I can do. Thanks for putting up with me the last few days.”  He kissed her soundly on the cheek.  
  
“If you want, you can continue showing your appreciation by getting the drinks tray ready.”   
  
 _“Ah a’m at yur ser-veece, Madame,”_ Benedict said, affecting a rather bad French accent.  _“Do you fan-cee anythin spay-chal?  Ah a’m not in mon pere’s catagoree, but ah can meex a fair-lee raspectabowl dreenk.”_  
  
Wanda stopped mincing and looked up at Benedict with a puzzled expression that often reminded him of one of her stuffed owls.

“If I must say so, that’s one of the worst French accents I’ve ever heard!”  
  
“That’s because it’s supposed to be bad,” Benedict smiled.  Then he went back to the accent, _“What-evar is Madame’s play-sure, Ah would be 'appy to make.”_  
  
Wanda shook her head and laughed.  “You had me there.  I thought you had forgotten your French studies.”  
  
“Pas du tout! Maintenant. Quel genre de boisson vais-je fixer pour Madame?” Benedict asked her in perfect French.  “Mieux?”  
  
“Oui! Beaucoup! Tres bien mon fils.”  Wanda paused to consider her options for a moment. “As long as it isn’t Pimms and lemonade – that’s your father’s specialty.  How about whiskey sours?  I can’t remember the last time I had one.”  
  
Benedict frowned and pursed his lips as he inventoried the contents of the liquor cabinet. “I can.  It was at the Ivy.  We agreed they make the best, and I guarantee you that mine won’t compare.  Besides Emily will be the first to tell you that whiskey sours aren’t cool. I think a birthday celebration calls for something a tad more creative.”  He moved some of the bottles around. “Ah ha!  This will do nicely!” He said, removing the bottles of tequila and Triple Sec.  “I’ll mix up a batch of margaritas.  That’ll certainly be festive.  What do you think?”   
  
“Jolly good, then!  Just don’t be over generous with the liquor, not that I mind a drink with a kick; but I don’t want the girls getting pissed.”  
  
“I’ll just put in what the recipe calls for,” said Benedict, opening the fridge and peering inside.  “Do we have any simple syrup?”  
  
Wanda laughed.  “Are you kidding me? Of course we do!  Your father always has it on hand for drinks.”  She stood beside Benedict and pointed.  “Here it is – on the door. Right next to the brown sauce.”  She handed him the jar.   
  
Benedict washed, cut and juiced some limes. “Mum, I was wondering if you and Dad could do me a huge favor tomorrow?”  
  
Wanda was slowly whisking extra virgin olive oil into a mixture of red wine vinegar, the minced garlic and dry mustard.  “Just name it.  What do you need?”  
  
“I’m scheduled to have my hot water heater replaced in the morning, but I also have to be at a cast meeting at Hartswood Productions about _Sherlock_ at nine. Could you and Dad come over and wait for the plumbers? If you have plans that’s fine.  I can reschedule.”  
  
Wanda added some salt to the dressing.  “Of course we can!  I know it’s not always easy for you to take a detour to Kensington, and you can’t keep taking cold showers, dear.”  
  
 _Well I can, but for different reasons than you think, Mum._  
  
“We’ll take the tube.  That should get us to Hampstead around eight. Is that too early?”  
  
Benedict finished rimming the large cocktail glasses with salt and placed them on a silver tray to set.  “That’s fine.  I’ll have plenty of time to get there by nine.”  
  
 _My money says he won’t be getting up until we arrive._ Thought Wanda, suppressing a laugh.  _I’d be shocked if he were ready to leave._  
  
“I really, really appreciate this,” Benedict said as he took out the large glass cocktail pitcher and carefully measured out the tequila, Triple Sec, limejuice and simple syrup.  He stirred it and set it in the refrigerator to chill.  
  
“Hello?” called Timothy from the lounge.  “I’m finally here, no thanks to the director-from-hell.”  
  
“We’re in the kitchen, Tim,” replied Wanda, adding some finely chopped shallots to her dressing.  She gave it a taste and offered the spoon to Benedict.  “I think it needs something, but what?”   
  
Benedict paused to taste as he walked past.  “Definitely needs more pepper.”  
  
“Unfortunately, your brother-in-law isn’t overly fond of pepper,” said Wanda sadly.  “If it were up to me, I’d put in some more.”  
  
“Oh, let’s be brazen and throw caution to the wind, shall we?” laughed Benedict, picking up the pepper grinder and giving it a few turns over the bowl.  “Derrick just hasn’t acquired a taste for it yet.”  
  
“The man’s fifty-four.  If he hasn’t learned to like it by now, he’s never going to,” quipped  Wanda.  
  
Benedict winked at Wanda and gave the grinder a couple of additional turns. “And aren’t you the one who always told me that we’re never too old to learn? Let’s think of this as a pepper appreciation lesson.”  
  
Wanda whisked it in, and they both tasted it.   
  
“Definite improvement, don’t you think?” asked Benedict.  
  
“Perfect!  You were right.  It needed more pepper.”  
  
“Humph! I see you’re not afraid to tell _him_ that he’s right,” sniffed Timothy as he entered the kitchen, still wearing his makeup from filming.  “I got here as soon as I could.  Damn Director just had to have another take and then one more at a different lighting angle, which turned into two more,” he complained as he kissed Wanda lightly on the lips.  “Hello Darling.  What can I do to help?”  
  
Wanda glanced around the kitchen and pursed her lips. "Ben and I have everything under control.”  
  
Timothy blinked upon seeing Benedict busy preparing the drinks tray in his bathrobe.  “Well, Ben, this is a rare treat!  You’re on time.  Could it be because you given up bothering to dress?”  
  
“Miracles do happen, Dad,” Benedict smirked, as he cut some lime circles to garnish the drinks with.  “Actually, I came over early, so I could use the shower.  I still don’t have hot water.”  
  
 _Of course you don’t.  It’s only been two weeks since your water heater crapped out. It’s a mystery to me how he sets his priorities._  
  
Wanda’s mobile rang, and she excused herself to take the call from her agent  in the lounge. Benedict regarded his father, who looked a bit out of sorts.  
  
“You feeling okay, Dad?”  
  
Timothy sat down heavily on one of the kitchen chairs. “Just a bit knackered.  I’ve been on set since seven and don’t have the stamina that I used to is all.”  
  
Benedict snorted.  “That’s not what I heard Mum tell Una today,” he said under his breath as he took the seat opposite his father.  
  
Timothy looked up with curiosity.  “I may be knackered, but I assure you that my hearing is still excellent.  What did your mother tell Una?”  
  
“Nothing really,” began Benedict, red-faced.  “Just that you’re a very...hard worker and that acting really is very, very hard work and most people don’t realize it and...”  He paused, rubbing his thigh, while searching for an out.  
  
 _Oh, Timothy, why do you punish yourself like this?  You’ve already got an idea as to what she must have said.  Maybe you just enjoy listening to his waffling his way out of it?_  
  
Timothy leaned forward, resting his arms on the tabletop.  “Go ahead, as you were, Ben.”  
  
“She was just saying to Una how pleased she is that you always seem to put out – I mean put your best foot forward when you’re working.  You know what I mean?”  Benedict stared at Timothy hopefully, as he drummed his fingers on the tabletop.  
  
Timothy shook his head.  “Haven’t a clue. You’ve lost me, I’m afraid. Could you elaborate a bit?”  
  
Benedict resembled a deer caught in the headlights. _Fuck me!  When will I learn to keep my mouth shut?_   He cleared his throat and stroked his chin.  
  
“She meant that you’re very good at following the Director’s instructions to make sure she’s – I mean he’s – you are working with a male director, aren’t you? – totally satisfied.  With your prowess – I mean work.”  
  
Timothy smiled to himself. _Shame on me!  I do enjoy listening to him drag himself deeper and deeper into the mire!  Shall I let him keep going or shall I give him an out?_  
  
Benedict ran his hand through his hair, which had just about dried into soft curls.  He gazed at his reflection in the glass-fronted dish cabinet and impatiently pushed the errant curl off his forehead, only to have it fall back.  
  
“I think I know exactly what your mother meant!” Timothy smiled proudly.  “Remember, Ben, it’s important to keep your woman happy. It not only reinforces the relationship, but also does wonders for the male ego –which  benefits from some extra care and feeding when you get to be my age.” He winked at Benedict, who grimaced.  
  
 _For fuck’s sake!  Why does this happen to me? Because I have a big mouth._ Benedict shook his head and rubbed the back of his neck. “Christ! None of my friends’ parents carry on like you two do!”  
  
Timothy looked perplexed, but said nothing.   
  
“I’m sorry, Dad!  I don’t know what got into me.  It’s good that you and Mum have always felt so completely comfortable discussing just about anything with me...I like that we all express ourselves so openly with each other all the time.  I guess that’s why we’re so close.  I’m actually really glad that you and Mum...” he paused as he searched for the right words.  _How to say this? Still shag? No. Too flip. Still fuck? Definitely not. Too cheeky. Still have sex? Too clinical...._  
  
“Are such hard workers,” Timothy finished with a bit of a smirk.  
  
“Yeah, that’s a good way of putting it,” sighed Benedict, as the landline began to ring. “I think I’ll just get that.”  The ringing stopped as he started to pick up the receiver.  He saw the light indicating the phone was in use.  “Mum’s got it.”  
  
Timothy went to inspect the cake.  “She did do a beautiful job on this cake. I can tell that she put her heart and soul into it.  The woman loves her family and will do whatever it takes to make us happy. You’ll be a lucky man if you find someone who’s half as brilliant as your mother is.”  
  
Benedict noted how his father beamed when speaking of his mother. It gave him a warm feeling inside. He nodded silently in agreement.  Then he arranged the glasses on the drinks tray and placed it in the refrigerator to chill.  
  
“I was just asking Mum if you wouldn’t mind coming over to my place tomorrow to wait for the plumbers.  They’re finally going to install a new hot water heater. Normally, that wouldn’t be a problem, but I’ve got a cast meeting that I can’t miss for _Sherlock_ ,” Benedict explained to Timothy.   
  
“If your mother says it’s fine, then it is,” Timothy chuckled.  “We were only going to lunch and to the matinee of _Les Miserables_.”   
  
“Wait a minute!” exclaimed Benedict.  “Mum didn’t mention you had theatre tickets!  I will definitely reschedule it.  I know how much you both enjoy that show.”  
  
“Ben, the tickets were freebies from my agent. We’ve already seen the show twice. It’s more important that you have hot water.”   
  
 _Because if you don’t get that sorted out, you’ll never stop coming over here to shower at all hours of the day and night._  
  
Wanda returned to the kitchen, wearing a huge smile. “I’ve been asked to do the commentary on the _Doctor Who DVD "Image of the Fendahl_ ".  The other call was Tracy.  They’ve just about finished with their shopping and will be heading straight over.  She thinks they’ll be here by half past six.”  
  
Timothy yawned and stretched.  “Wonderful news, Darling.”  He looked at his watch. “I should have just enough time to have a nice, hot bath and relax a bit.  Maybe I’ll treat myself to a short lie down afterwards.”  
  
Benedict hit his forehead with his palm. “SHIT!  What in the fuck is wrong with me?  I was in such a hurry this morning, I forgot to bring Emily’s gift!”  
  
Wanda and Timothy exchanged looks and rolled their eyes.  
  
 _Where shall I begin?_ Thought Timothy _. Silence is golden in this case._  
  
 _That is too tempting to answer,_ Thought Wanda. _Better not start or you won’t stop._  
  
“I just don’t know how I get sidetracked. If I leave now, I can get it and be back in time for dinner.”   
  
  
  
  
  
Once Benedict had dressed and left, Timothy opened the refrigerator and peered inside.  He removed a large plastic container, took off the lid and sniffed at the contents.  
   
“What’s in here? Smells damn good.”  
  
“That’s Ben’s starter.  He made roasted butternut squash soup. It gets heated and topped with a dollop of crème fraiche and a sprinkle of nutmeg.  He let me taste it, and it’s divine.”  
  
Wanda scooped out a bit for her husband to taste.  
  
“It’s good cold,” said Timothy. “You taught him well, pet.”  
  
“I’m glad he likes to cook for himself.  At least I know he’s not eating takeaway all the time.”  
  
“Like I did before I met you,” laughed Timothy as he removed the tray of nibbles that Wanda had prepared.  He helped himself to a crostini spread with black olive tapenade.  
  
“That’s for later!” scolded Wanda, tapping his hand lightly.  “Didn’t you have a tea break?”  
  
“I’m starving. We didn’t break for lunch until late.  I didn’t want my appetite spoilt for your lamb roast, so I didn’t eat. By the way, you should’ve given me fair warning that Benedict was here. Just when I stopped believing in miracles, I come home to the surprise of my life.  How in the devil did you manage to get him here so early?”  
  
Wanda put on her oven mitts and opened the oven to check on her roast.  "I didn’t have to do anything.  He needed to take a shower is all. We have hot water and he doesn’t.”  
  
“You’re probably right; but I suspect your roast lamb and homemade birthday cake are also great motivators.”  
  
“I suspect that our shower having hot water was the real motivator,” said Wanda.  She sighed and looked down at her feet. “Anyway, he assures me that this will be the last time.” She looked up at him, opened her mouth and hesitated.  
  
Timothy looked at her. “Is there something else you want to tell me, Wanda?”  
  
“Is your heart set on seeing _Les Miserables_ tomorrow? Ben asked if we could go over to his place while the new water heater is installed. He normally wouldn’t bother us, but he has a meeting about _Sherlock_ and…”  
  
“No, my heart isn’t set on it; as we’ve already seen it. It’s more important that he gets his hot water back. Why don’t you offer the tickets to Una?  She’ll also be at the meeting, so he can bring them to her.”   
  
“That’s a brilliant idea! I’ll call her while you’re in the bath. I’m sure she can find someone to go with her.”  
  
“Now let’s hope Ben can get to Hampstead and back in time for pudding,” Timothy laughed as he watched Wanda baste the roast with the pan juices and check the meat thermometer.  
  
“I’d say another hour and this should be done. Then it’ll need time to rest.”  Wanda closed the oven door and turned to face him, while removing her oven mitts. She was smiling brightly.  “Timothy Carlton Cumberbatch, did I hear you say that _I_ was right before?”  
  
“Actually, I said you were _probably_ right.  It’s not the same as being _totally_ right, which is what _I_ usually am.”  
  
Wanda rolled her eyes and opened a jar of mint jelly.  She spooned it into a serving dish.  “Humph!  It’s the same thing, but I’m not in a mood to debate you.  You’re just feeling stropy from work and no food.”  
  
Timothy nodded and smiled.  “You know what?”  He leaned down and whispered in her ear. “You are one hundred percent right about that.”  He took Wanda in his arms and pushed a lock of hair behind her ear.  
  
“Well, it’s rather nice to hear those words come out of your mouth for a change!” she laughed and hugged him. “I think I could get used to hearing that!”  
  
“Don’t.  Because I certainly don’t want to spoil you.”  
  
Wanda playfully swatted his backside.  “I think you could use a nice, stiff drink.”  
  
“You are right again!” Timothy put the nibbles tray back in the refrigerator and removed the pitcher.  He sniffed at the contents. “What are we drinking?”  
  
“Margaritas.  Ben thought it would be nice to change things up.”  
  
Timothy took a tall glass from the cabinet and poured himself a sample of the cocktail.  He swallowed and grimaced. “Ugh!”  
  
“Not good?” asked Wanda as she walked over to join him.  
  
“Tastes like fairy pee,” scowled Timothy as he handed her the glass.  “Try it. Our son doesn’t know how to mix a proper drink.”  
  
Wanda drank the remainder and smacked her lips. “Tastes fine to me.  Of course, it does lack the famous Timothy Cumberbatch kick.”  
  
Timothy patted her hand. “Not to worry!  I can remedy that!”  
  
Timothy retrieved the tequila and Triple Sec from the liquor cabinet.  He opened the bottles, poured half of each of them into the pitcher and stirred.  Once that was done, he filled his glass and took a taste, smacking his lips in approval.   
  
“Now that’s a drink with some spunk!”  He offered the glass to Wanda.  “Let me know what you think. I can always add more.”  
  
Wanda took a sip and coughed.  “Oh my! That’s a kick alright!” she whispered hoarsely and coughed again.  “It’s more than fine the way it is, Tim.  We don’t want to get everyone pissed before dinner.”  
  
“Good.  Then if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to have my bath and a quick lie down before the Peacocks arrive,” announced Timothy, “but before I go, I think I’ll take along an aperitif for the road.”  He quickly drained his glass and poured himself another one to take with him.    
  
“There’s one little thing that I wanted to mention,” began Wanda, as she began to cube her pre-pared potatoes into a pot.  
  
Timothy placed the pitcher back in the refrigerator and turned to his wife.  He leaned back against the cabinets and sipped at his drink.  
  
“Mention away.”  
  
“When Tracy called, she also wanted to warn me that Emmy’s bringing along her friend, Heather.”  
  
Timothy frowned at her.  “Is that all? We already knew that.”  
  
“What Tracy only found out during tea was that Emmy's planning on trying her hand at a bit of matchmaking.  She’s hoping that Ben will fancy Heather.”  
  
Timothy sighed and took another sip. “Just what we didn’t need to complicate matters.  If I recall correctly, she’s young, quite pretty and has brains.”  
  
“That’s the one. She and Emmy are roommates. I’m not too worried, as I think she’s too young for Ben.  I pretended to be interested, so Tracy wouldn’t get suspicious.”  
  
“Actually, _that_ was a good idea.  If you were to try and put a damper on the plan, Tracy would know right away something was up.”  
  
Wanda brought the pot to the sink and covered the potato cubes with water.  “I’m more worried about the bird Ben met at the restaurant.  Has he said anything more to you about her?”  
  
“Not a word, which isn’t like him.  I’m thinking more along the lines that he’s forgotten about her.  He’s been preoccupied with going on auditions and using our hot water.”  
  
“I wish we could find out what happened without coming right out and asking him.  Only you can do that, because I’m not supposed to know.”  
  
“And I have no intention of asking him. It will only arouse suspicion if I do and lead to an unpleasant cross-examination by Barrister Ben.  However, it would be normal coming from you, but as you just pointed out, you can’t.”  
  
“I guess we can only keep our fingers crossed,” said Wanda as she put the pot on the stove and turned it on.  “And hope for the best.”  
  
“You know, Wanda, it might not be a terrible idea if we were to encourage Ben to date Heather in case things don’t work out with Donna Saint James. We’re putting all our eggs in one basket.  So, Heather’s a bit younger than Ben...”  
  
“She’s the same age as Emmy – that’s a huge difference, Tim!” interrupted Wanda. “They won’t have much in common.”  
  
Timothy waved her off. “Age shouldn’t matter all that much.  Why look at us!  We’re a May/December romance and get along splendidly.”  
  
Wanda scoffed at Timothy.  “I’m only four years older than you!”  
  
“And I have benefited from the wealth of your vast life experiences.”  He winked at her.  “When I think back on those sun-kissed days in Greece,  I felt like Dustin Hoffman in the Graduate, and you were my fetching Mrs. Robinson.”   
  
As Timothy Carlton walked out of the room, he felt the oven mitts hit his back.  
  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to cut this chapter in half, as it was getting too long. This is almost a 'bridge' chapter.
> 
> The expression “fairy pee” is a very seldom-used slang for a light, fruity alcoholic drink. I had first heard it used in an old British sitcom called "Keeping up Appearances", and it always made me laugh. 
> 
> I also wanted to pay homage to a couple of things - hope everyone found them. :-)
> 
> I'm also posting update announcements on my tumblr: mariwhether.tumblr.com


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time to meet the rest of the family. A Tipsy Timothy waffles-for-his-life during a potentially dangerous cross examination by Barrister Ben. Donna makes a decision that may change the game.
> 
> I'm also posting update announcements on my tumblr: mariwhether.tumblr.com

 

Benedict Cumberbatch hurried out of the High Street Kensington tube arcade and headed towards the bus stops.  There were many buses letting off passengers, so he had trouble spotting his sister and her family. Suddenly, the sound of a familiar female voice stopped him in his tracks.  
  
"Benedict!  Over here!"  
  
Benedict turned to see his half-sister, Tracy Peacock, and her family behind him.  They appeared to have just gotten off a bus and were laden with shopping bags from various stores in London.  Tracy was Wanda's daughter from her first marriage to James Tabernacle and seventeen years older than Benedict. She and her husband, Derrick, had two daughters, Emily and Jennifer.  Jennifer was preparing for her gap year, while Emily was in her third year at University. Tracy was an antique frame restorer and had a small shop in her Wiltshire home not far from Wanda and Timothy's country retreat.  Benedict walked back to meet them.  He kissed and embraced his sister warmly.  
  
"Tracy!  Good to see you!"  
  
"You're looking well, Ben!"  
  
Benedict shook hands with his brother-in-law, Derrick, who had taken the day off to celebrate his daughter's birthday.  Derrick was a Regional Manager for an electronics firm and was constantly travelling.  
  
"Derrick!  It's been awhile. How are you?"  
  
"I'm fine, but my feet are killing me.  We've been trooping around London since ten," he grimaced.  "Emmy requested a shopping spree for her birthday, so we got an early start and took the Overground into the city."  
  
"What Derrick's neglected to tell you is that we took lunch and frequent tea breaks, so it's not like he's been on his feet all the time," pointed out Tracy with a smirk.   
  
"We even let him sleep in one of the chairs at Selfridges while we were getting express manicures!' laughed Jennifer, as she gave Benedict a hug.  
  
"When we were done, we found him snoring!  Everyone was quite amused, except for Mum," added Emily with a giggle.  
  
Benedict gave his niece a big hug and kissed her on both cheeks.  "Happy Birthday, Emmy! Sounds like you've had a full day so far."  Benedict surveyed all the shopping bags they had.  "Did you leave anything in the stores for others to buy?”  
  
“Always teasing, Uncle Ben!” Emily giggled nervously. Benedict noted that she appeared a bit anxious.  “There’s someone who I’d like you to meet.”  
  
Benedict caught sight of a short, slim girl with long, honey-colored hair standing slightly behind his niece. Emily turned and suddenly pulled the girl forward, almost jerking her off her feet.  
  
"Uncle Ben, this is Heather MacPherson.  We're roommates at Uni.  Heather, this is my uncle, Benedict Cumberbatch."  
  
Heather and Benedict shook hands.   
  
"Nice to finally meet you, Benedict.  I've heard so much about you from Emmy," said Heather with a flirtatious smile.   
  
Benedict liked the way her eyes crinkled when she smiled.  They were big blue eyes, framed by large, royal blue rimmed glasses that made them look even bluer.  
  
 _Emmy's never mentioned her before. She’s quite the looker._  
  
Finding himself feeling slightly self-conscience. Benedict cleared his throat and returned the smile. "You are at an advantage then, Heather. Emily's never told me about you."  
  
 _Why did I say that?  Pleased to meet you would have been better._  
  
Emily rolled her eyes.  "I don't have to tell you everything, Uncle Ben.  Isn't it more fun to unravel a mystery?"  
  
"Yeah. It is."  
  
 _Speaking of unraveling, I wonder what she looks like under that jacket?_  
  
Benedict suddenly remembered the gift he had for Emily and handed her a bright magenta shopping bag, topped with pink tissue.  "This is for you. I hope you like it."  
  
"Thanks!  I can't wait to get to Gran's to open it!" Emily peeked inside the bag and showed Heather the beautifully wrapped gift.  "My uncle’s famous for his gift wrapping.  You would think a professional did it," she boasted.  
  
Benedict smiled proudly. "I learnt how to gift wrap while working in a perfumery to save money for my gap year trip to Nepal.”  
  
"Nepal?  That sounds fascinating!  I want to hear _all_ about it!" exclaimed Heather.  "My gap year was spent working in a bank and was very boring.”  
  
"I'd be happy to tell you sometime," replied Benedict with a non-committal smile.  He noticed Emily poke her friend in the ribs.  
  
 _Oh, no.  I hope she’s not trying to set me up with her roommate._  
  
Suddenly, Tracy's mobile began to ring. "Anyone care to guess who that might be?"  
  
"Gran!" Jennifer and Emily said at the same time.  
  
"I vote for Wanda," chimed in Derrick, checking his watch.  "We must be a minute late."  
  
"Mum," sighed Benedict.  "Calling for a status check."  
  
"And right you all are," laughed Tracy shaking her head.  "Hi, Mum!  Yes, we just got off the bus and are on our way. Yes, Heather was able to join us. Yes, Ben's with us.  We met him coming out of the tube. No, I haven’t had time to mention it, but he’s not totally obtuse. See you soon."  She rang off and tossed her mobile in her handbag.  
  
The group began to walk towards the mews house.  Benedict sidled up to his sister.  "What didn’t you have time to mention to me?"  
  
Tracy took his arm and started to laugh.  "How you would feel about dating Emmy’s roommate, of course!”  
  
  
  
  
Donna Saint James was happy to get a seat when the double-decker bus stopped in front of the Kensington High Street tube station.  It was rush hour, and she had stood for quite a while.  Donna was on her way to meet some co-workers to review a new Japanese restaurant, and the bus would drop her off much closer than the tube.  The seat was on the upper level, and Donna gazed out the window while the passengers disembarked.  Quite a few people were getting off.  She watched a family of five busily taking inventory of all the shopping bags they had on the pavement. The mother suddenly called out to someone who walked past her.  Donna started when the man turned around, waved at the family and began walking back towards them.  
  
 _It's Benedict Cumberbatch!  I was wondering what happened to him.  He said he was going to call me this week!_  
  
Donna felt her heart begin to pound.  As Benedict drew closer, she knocked on the window and waved, but he didn't seem to notice or hear her.  She watched as he hugged the family and began to chat with them as the bus pulled away.  
  
 _I bet that's his family!  He has very nice-looking parents.  They look the same age as Mom and Dad.  His three sisters are also very cute.  I wonder if I should call him?_  
  
Donna took out her cellphone and scrolled through her contacts list to the one labeled “Benedict”. Her finger hovered over the key to place the call.  
  
 _It's Wednesday already, and I haven't heard from him. I could just call to say hello and maybe that will jog his memory. On second thought, I’d better not do that.  It will make me look desperate to see him, which I’m not.  Perhaps ‘desperate’ isn’t the right word. Maybe he changed his mind and has no intention of calling me. I really was hoping he did. I was looking forward to seeing him again. I best leave it to him since he’s the one who asked me out in the first place. He’ll either call or he won’t._  
  
Donna was also feeling disappointed as she hadn’t heard back from Wanda Ventham either.  She scrolled down through her contacts until she came to “Wanda Ventham”.   
  
 _Perhaps I should call Wanda and see how she's doing with the Tate Modern meeting.  That might look pushy though. It's better to just wait it out and see what happens.  I suppose she hasn't been able to find out what time her son's going yet. She said that he works for the BBC, so he’s probably one of those busy executives. That would make sense.  So, I’ll just practice being patient, which I am not._  
  
Since the dinner at Barbecoa, Donna had spent alot of time on the internet doing research.  To her delight, there was some information on Benedict Cumberbatch.  She had skipped the interviews, reviews and biographies in favor of programs he had appeared in.  She had been able to find several movies and spent every evening watching one of them.  So far, she had seen _Hawking, Starter for 10, Stuart: A Life Backwards,_ and _Atonement_.   Donna was pleasantly surprised that the man was so talented and was captivated by his performances.  That night she planned to watch a movie entitled, _To the Ends of the Earth_.  
  
Unfortunately, Donna couldn’t find anything on the mysterious Ben Ventham.  The men who had come up as a result of her Internet search didn’t quite match the description Wanda had given her.  They were either in the wrong location, wrong profession or didn’t have red hair and blue eyes. She only knew what Wanda had told her about her son.  Donna was still curious to meet him, but found she wasn’t as curious since meeting Benedict Cumberbatch.  She was feeling torn and a bit guilty about it and wished she had someone to discuss the situation with. Donna had purposely not confided in her sister, Carly, that she had responded to Wanda’s personal ad or about her encounter with Benedict Cumberbatch at Barbecoa.  
  
 _I’d love to tell Carly about Wanda, but she’d think I was crazy.  She wouldn’t understand why I answered the ad.  It would only set me up for a lecture, which I don’t want. Maybe I’ll tell her about Benedict if he ever calls, but that isn’t looking too likely._  
  
Donna sighed and sat gazing out the window at nothing in particular when her phone rang. It was a number she didn't recognize.  
  
"Hello."  
  
 _"Hello, Donna.  I don't know if you remember me. It's James Rhodes."_  
  
Donna frowned. _James Who?  The voice is familiar, but I can't place the name or the number._  
  
"Gosh, I don't mean to sound rude, but I don't recognize your name or number..." Donna let her voice trail off.  
  
 _"That's because I'm calling from my land line.  We met at the Steinway Store in Marylebone awhile back.  I was using their rehearsal room to practice, and you had ducked in to get out of the rain."_  
  
Donna recalled how she had been caught in a sudden storm without an umbrella and went into the Steinway store to browse until it passed.  She had come across the cute, bearded, dark-haired musician playing one of the concert grand pianos and had stopped to listen.  
  
"Yes, now I remember you!  You played the most beautiful rendition of ‘Hall of the Mountain King’ that I ever heard, so I asked you for an encore."  
  
She heard what sounded like a giggle.

_“You really are too kind.”_

Then came the sound of him clearing his throat.

_“Afterwards, we wound up chatting for quite a bit and exchanged numbers.  I was hoping we could meet up and have a coffee Saturday afternoon."_  
  
Donna paused for a moment to consider his invitation.  
  
 _He was very chatty and a lot of fun.  Why not meet him for coffee? What harm could there be in that? No one else is calling me, so why not? He might turn out to be someone I'd want to date._  
  
"I'd like that very much, James.  Anytime after one is fine. Where shall we meet?"  
  
  
  
  
Benedict and Timothy sat alone in the lounge while the women busied themselves with cleaning up the remains of Emily’s birthday dinner.  Derrick had excused himself to return some business calls in Wanda and Timothy's bedroom.   
  
Timothy suspected that he had passed tipsy and was well on the way to being drunk after downing two of his vastly ‘improved’ margaritas on an empty stomach. It also wasn’t helping that he had enjoyed a couple of glasses of wine with dinner.  He was feeling extremely relaxed and uninhibited.  Unfortunately, he was also having trouble keeping his thoughts completely coherent.  
  
"So, Ben, have you heard back yet on those auditions you were telling me about?"  
  
"Yes, I got callbacks for both Turning Point and Burlesque Fairytales!  John's been ironing out the details.  Looks like the Turning Point will be in the summer.  Burlesque Fairytales is moving along quite quickly. The first read-through is next week. Once I'm done filming, I can squeeze in some other things like Cabin Pressure and Rumpole.  Then Sherlock starts near the end of the year."  
  
"Jolly good!" exclaimed Timothy.  He stifled a burp. "Things are going very well for you professionally, Son, as I always knew they would."  
  
Benedict looked slyly towards the kitchen and affected his mother’s posture and mannerisms.  
  
"If Mum were here, she's say: Now, if we could only say the same for you personally, Ben.  We really must find you a bird!" he added in a perfect imitation of Wanda.  
  
Both men guffawed.   
  
Benedict quickly put his finger to his lips with a shushing sound and motioned with his other hand for Timothy to lower his volume.  “Shush!  She’s going to hear us!”  
  
 _Wanda wouldn’t find Benedict's imitation of her as funny as I do._  
  
Benedict glanced warily at the entrance to the kitchen.  There was no sign of anyone having heard them.  He leaned back, stretched out his legs and crossed his ankles.  He ran his hand through his hair and sighed with relief.  
  
“That could’ve been rather unpleasant had she heard us.”  
  
“Oh, do you think for one blasted minute that I’m afraid of your mother?” Timothy scoffed as he waved his hand dismissively at Benedict. Then he paused to listen.  There were just the normal kitchen sounds and low volume chatter, punctuated with occasional laughter.   
  
Benedict gave him a toothy grin.  “Yes I do.”  
  
“Bollocks!  We have a very open and honest relationship.  We’ve always felt we could tell each other anything.”  
  
 _Except for when she placed an ad in Craigslist for a wife for you and only told me about it after I caught her._  
  
“There was only that one time recently when she placed the ad for a guurrll.”  The last word was slurred by a belch.  
  
 _What the fuck? Did I just say that out loud? Why did I even bring that up? I hope he didn’t hear me!_  
  
“What ad, Dad?” asked Benedict, curiosity suddenly peaked.  
  
 _Shit!  Think, Timothy!  Think quickly!  Remain calm.  Act!  You’re a good actor – act your way out of this!_  
  
“The one for that old armoire.”  
  
“We don’t have an old armoire.”  
  
“Of course we do.  The one in the Glouces-ter-Glowster-shire…the one in the country house.  You know the one.  It’s in the study.  That cabinet where we keep the telly and electronics hidden.  She’s decided to sell it.”  
  
Benedict stroked his chin.  He looked truly puzzled. “Why would Mum want to sell that?  It’s an antique.  I remember when we found it at the antique shop on Camden Road.  She was beyond thrilled.”  
  
 _Christ on a crutch!  I’m stuck here alone with Barrister Ben, and I’ve had more to drink than I should’ve.  I need to be careful how I answer him._  
  
“Actually, you’re right.  I think those drinks are affecting my memory.  It was something else she wanted to sell, but I don’t recall what the devil it was.  Anyway, what were we just talking about?”  
  
Unfortunately, Benedict, true to his nickname of Barrister Ben, was not to be distracted from his line of questioning.  
  
“You started to say something that began with a ‘g’.   Does that jog your memory?”  
  
Timothy swallowed hard and pretended to pause to consider.  _Bloody hell!  I was going to say girl, but I can’t tell him that.  What begins with a ‘g’?_  
  
Benedict was studying him closely, arms folded behind his head. Timothy could feel a bead of perspiration form on his forehead.  
  
“It wasn’t a ‘g’,” insisted Timothy. “I remember clearly now.  I didn’t start to say anything that began with a ‘g’.  _You_ must have heard wrong.”  
  
Benedict shook his head and helped himself to a milk chocolate-covered cherry from the candy dish.  
  
 _Oh good.  If his mouth’s full,  he can’t cross examine me._  
  
Benedict chewed thoughtfully and swallowed.  He licked his lips and perused the other chocolates in the dish. Finding nothing else that caught his fancy, he resumed his position on the couch and eyed Timothy.  
  
“Oh, I definitely heard something that began with a ‘g’.  Not to worry, Dad. I’ll just ask Mum when she comes out.”  
  
 _Bloody hell, NO!  I don’t need Wanda to find out that I slipped up. I’ll never hear the end of it.  Think, Timothy, you dolt!  Something that begins with a fucking bloody ‘g’!_  
  
“On second thought, I believe it was that electric griddle she wanted to sell.  Yes, that’s it.  It was the griddle. I can’t even remember the last time she took it out. She never uses it.”  
  
Benedict scratched his head.  “I doubt it was the griddle. She always uses it to make pancakes and crepes. As a matter of fact, she just used it today to make the blinis for the nibbles tray.”  
  
Timothy held his head.  He was miserable, but was determined not to get caught.   
  
 _I’m a rubbish actor. Maybe I should pretend to pass out....then he’d only resume this line of questioning once I came to.  There’s no escaping Barrister Ben._  
  
“It had to be the barbeque grill then.  We don’t use it that often.”  
  
“We use it all summer, Dad.  Unless she was thinking of getting a new one?”  
  
 _Okay.  That’ll work,_ Thought Timothy. A new barbeque grill it is!  
  
“That was definitely it!  Your mother was thinking that if we got a better one, we’d use it more often.”  Timothy replied happily, snapping his fingers.  “You know how fond she is of a good grilled burger.”  
  
 _I swear on all that is holy that I will never drink a fucking margarita ever again!_  
  
Benedict shifted on the couch and tapped his lips with his index finger.  He nodded, seemingly satisfied with Timothy’s response.  Then he removed a lip balm stick from his pocket and glided it over his lips.  
  
 _Ah, the prosecution rests_ , thought Timothy with relief. _I can now relax._  
  
He was wrong.  
  
Benedict pursed his lips as he put the lip balm back in his pocket.   
  
“Somehow I just don’t think that was the word.  It sounded more like a person word.”  
  
“Person word?  What in blazes are you talking about, Benedict?”  
  
“You know – when you put an ad in the paper for a person. Like a plumber or a painter. Now, what begins with a ‘g’?”  
  
A wave of giddiness swept over Timothy.  _I feel like Bilbo Baggins with the Gollum!   I’ll tell him she was going to hire a Gollum to take him out for asking too many God damn questions. Ha ha ha!_  
  
Then all of a sudden, a plausible scenario came to Timothy Carlton.  
  
“Silly me! I now remember it as clearly as if it were yesterday. Your mother was looking to hire a gardener for Glouces-Glowchester-tershire.  Where ever it is we have the country house.”  
  
“Gloucestershire. And we have a gardener, Dad.  Did Chester quit?”  
  
 _Act, Timothy. You’re an actor.  Convince him._  
  
Timothy shook his head sadly. “No.  Your mother isn’t happy with the way Chester has been cutting the grass, and you know how she is once she sets her mind to something.” Just like you, apparently.  
  
Benedict smirked.  “Oh, yes, I do indeed.”  
  
 _And now I need to nip this in the bud before I totally lose track of what I’ve told him._  
  
“Well, now that everything’s been sorted to the court’s satisfaction, Barrister Ben, what in the devil were we talking about in the first place?” asked Timothy a bit sternly.  
  
Benedict cleared his throat and smirked.  
  
“How you’re afraid of Mum’s wrath.”  
  
 _Holy fucking hell!  Back to that?_ Timothy could feel the beginning of a migraine headache coming on.  _I did ask for that, didn’t I?_  
  
“I’m not...afraid, Ben.  Afraid isn’t the right word.  It’s just that I don’t like...”  Timothy’s mind felt fuzzy as he searched for a coherent explanation.  
  
“You don’t like dealing with her wrath,” finished Benedict.  “I’ve been around you two long enough to know how you operate.  You bide your time and keep silent when you disagree with her because it’s just not worth having a row with her because you know you can’t win!”  
  
“I’d say that’s true eighty percent of the time.”  
  
“Hell, she does it with me. You’re much better at it than I am.”  
  
“I would hope so.  I’ve been dealing with her far longer than you have.”  
  
“I can’t hold my temper the way you do – and I admire that.  You’re just bloody great with her – up to a point.  Then when she pushes the envelope, BOOM!”  Benedict made a gesture as if something had exploded.  “Then everything calms down as if nothing happened.”  
  
 _Well, not the last time.  I wound up getting pulled into the scheme, but you wouldn’t want to know about that.  Well, you would want to know, but we don’t want you to know.  God help me, am I starting to waffle just like him? I need a good, strong cuppa._  
  
Timothy frowned and considered Benedict’s comment.  
  
“Ben, marriage is a delicate balancing act at times. I know when it’s important to speak my mind and when it’s not.  Sometimes it just isn’t worth having an argument over something that isn’t going to change.  Most of the time she comes to her senses and realizes that I’m right – believe me, there are no sweeter words.”  
  
“No sweeter words than what?” asked Wanda, coming out of the kitchen.  “Though I have a sneaking suspicion of what they might be.”  
  
Timothy grinned:  “You are right, Tim.”  
  
“I need to borrow your lighter for a couple of minutes, Ben, so we can light the candles,” Wanda said. “We’re out of matches.”  
  
“Sure.”  He removed it from his pocket and handed it to her.   
  
Wanda took the lighter, then leaned over to take one of the pillows off the couch.  She smacked Timothy over the head with it and left the room.  
  
“Your mother sure has grown fond of pillow fights as of late.”  
  
Benedict shook his head and smiled.  “You two are such a treat to watch.”  
  
 _He wouldn’t think that had he caught us the day when I found out about the plan. If he found out, he’d be placing his own Craigslist ad for new parents._  
  
“As I was about to say, afraid definitely isn’t the right word. Wary is more accurate. No, actually, tolerant is what I am.  I’m very patient and tolerant.  So, I’m definitely not afraid of her!”   
  
Timothy shook his head to clear it.  _Jesus, I have been waffling away just like he does.  I wonder how he sees himself?  He must have an idea what he does...I’m pretty pissed and can recognize it._  
  
Benedict squirmed as his mobile vibrated in his pocket.  “Feels like I have a message.”   
  
 _Ah, my sentence has been suspended!  Bless whoever the kind soul is who delivered me from this never-ending interrogation!_  
  
Benedict saw that he had a text message from James Rhodes.  “It’s James.”  
  
 _Bless him.  I should put him in my will. Hopefully, they’ll text until it’s time for the pudding; and I can escape._

_“_ Give him my best,” said Timothy as he got up to use the loo. 

_And I really mean that from the bottom of my heart._

  
  
  
  
_Guess who has a coffee date with a pretty girl on Saturday? J_  
  
The girl you were telling me about at Laduree?  B  
  
 _The same!  I finally got up the nerve to make the call.  J_  
  
Shame on you!  That was awhile ago.  Did she remember you?  B  
  
 _Mostly.  J_  
  
 _(looks down at trainers in embarrassment)  J_  
  
You’re such a knob! Good thing you didn’t wait any longer – LOL!  I’m glad she’s accepted your invitation.  I don’t know if I would have. B  
  
 _You would have jumped on my invitation, tart that you are for free food. J_  
  
That’s because you know all the best restaurants in London.  B  
  
 _I was going to ask her to dinner, but thought having a coffee would be better to start off with.  J_  
  
Coffee dates are good.  Especially for you. B  
  
 _For me? Meaning….?? J_  
  
It doesn’t give you alot of time to fuck up that good first impression you surprisingly made.  B  
  
 _Bugger off you cheeky bastard.  Still celibate? J_  
  
I don’t kiss and tell. B  
  
 _I’m proud you’re keeping your hand to yourself. J_

  
I’m at a family dinner in Kensington. Cake is imminent. Dad sends his best.  Bx

  
_Regards to the family! Have some cake for me.  J <3_

  
  
  
  
Timothy rejoined Benedict in the lounge and plopped back down in his favorite chair. Benedict noticed that his father had retrieved his partially-filled wine glass from the dining room table.  
  
“What in the fuck were we talking about, Ben, before all this talk of who’s afraid of Wanda’s wrath started?”  
  
"You were saying that you were glad things were going well with my acting. Seriously, thanks for the vote of confidence, Dad.  Your and Mum's support mean the world to me," said Benedict.  
  
“And you mean the world to me and to your mother and to us,” Timothy hiccuped.  “Excuse me. I hope you know what I mean because I’m not sure what I mean anymore.”  He laughed and smacked his knee.   
  
Benedict regarded his father with a raised eyebrow. “How much did you have to drink, Dad?  You’re acting a bit pissed.”  
  
Timothy crossed his legs and looked up at the ceiling while considering Benedict’s question.   
  
"Me?  Pissed? I wouldn’t say completely pissed because I’m having moments of complete and total clarity. I just had a couple before dinner...then a couple more with dinner. Then I had one in between somewhere…unless I’m thinking of now. You might have a point.”  
  
“Yep.  You’re pissed.  I can always tell,” laughed Benedict.  
  
“And you’re not?” scowled Timothy.  “You had your share!”  
  
Benedict stretched out his long legs and rested his head on the back of the couch.  He pondered his condition for a moment. 

“If I’m anything, it’s pleasantly tipsy,”  he giggled.  “Mum always uses that phrase: pleasantly tipsy.  It kinda rolls off the tongue.”  He imitated Wanda’s voice: “Pleasantly tipsy.”  
  
“If your mother were in here, she wouldn’t find it funny; but she would be very proud of you getting those gigs.  She might even shed a tear or two.”  
  
Benedict had closed his eyes and yawned.  “I’m suddenly feeling so sleepy.  I think I’ll just rest my eyes until Mum’s ready for cake and presents.”  
  
Timothy watched Benedict for a couple of minutes when a thought occurred to him:  
  
 _I wonder whatever happened with that woman he met at the restaurant last week?_  
  
“Ben, not meaning to sound like your mother; but what was all that about last week?"  
  
Benedict’s eyes remained closed.  "What do you mean, Dad?"  
  
Timothy took a deep breath. He wished he had some strong coffee so he could sober up.  
  
 _I mean I'm about to try to find out if you asked that woman out, so we know what to tell Donna Saint James._  
  
"I’m talking about when you placed that strange nocturnal call from the restaurant loo. You were talking about a girl you had met and were thinking of asking her out. I was just wondering if you ever sorted it out. Just curious.  Surely, you of all people can understand..."  
  
Benedict’s eyes flew open and grew wide as sudden panic set in.  He sat up and grabbed his mobile from his trouser pocket.  
  
"FOR FUCK'S SAKE! I’m such a tit! I totally forgot to ring her to make plans!  I've been so caught up with my work.  I bet she's forgotten about me - or worse she probably thinks I'm a cheeky arsehole!"  
  
 _Well done, Timothy! You didn’t think that one through, no thanks to the booze. He had forgotten about her and now you’ve gone and reminded him.  That will surely cock up Wanda's plan. Now, I understand why I should let her handle these types of details. The woman’s right!_  
  
Benedict's voice was rising.  He put his head in his hands. "She probably won't even take my call now!  Hell, she probably doesn't even remember who I am!  I bet she's deleted my number out of her mobile! I've let so much time pass - it's not that I forgot about her.  I've had dreams about her almost every night, but I'm sure you don't want to know about those..."  
  
Timothy cleared his throat, suddenly feeling a bit more under control. "No, I really don't."  
  
Benedict nervously rubbed his hand along his thigh and down his leg. "I have the tickets for the exhibit.  They're at home right where I can see them so I won't forget.  I just forgot to call and invite her to go with me!  What a fucking knob I am!  I can't believe I did this.  How could I be so stupid?"  
  
 _Don't answer him, Tim.  It would take too long to explain and you’re not exactly on your game tonight._  
  
"What am I going to do, Dad?  I really think I fancy her.  She's not like the others - there's something special about her."  He was now jiggling his leg up and down.  
  
Timothy folded his arms across his chest.  He could smell coffee brewing and hear the clatter of dishes. The women would be out to serve the pudding momentarily.  He shook his head in an effort to clear the cobwebs.  
  
 _How do I advise him? I have two choices. I can either tell him to forget it and not bother calling this woman back, which will make Wanda's job that much easier; or I can encourage him to call the woman and ask her out, which will not make me popular with Wanda. Donna Saint James is lovely, and I'm sure he would fancy her, but I don’t like putting all our eggs in one basket.  I don't know what this other woman is like, but he does seem rather smitten with her. I haven't seen him like that in a long time. Wouldn’t it be better to have too many birds to choose from than just the one? Especially one that he chose himself.  I wish my mind were clearer right now._  
  
“Dad? What would you do?”   
  
Timothy looked towards the kitchen and quickly leaned towards Benedict.  
  
"I think you should go outside and ring her," said Timothy quietly as Emily and Heather came out of the kitchen and began to lay the table for pudding.  
  
 _Then if she tells you to go to hell, your mother and I have a very lovely alternate._  
  
Benedict bit his lower lip and got up.  "Thanks, Dad.  I'll be right back."  
  
"We're going outside for a quick smoke, Grandpa," announced Emily as she and Heather finished with the table.  "We'll be back in a couple of minutes."  She gave her friend a meaningful look that Timothy caught.  "Want to come with us, Uncle Ben?"  
  
Emily’s moving forward with trying to set up her friend with Ben. Heather's been making cow eyes at him all during dinner.  
  
Benedict looked at his niece and her friend as if they had grown two heads.  
  
 _Shit!  Now they want to go outside and smoke? I was going to go outside and call Donna!_  
  
"Um..No.  I quit.  You two go ahead," he said, obviously annoyed.  
  
"You quit again?" cried Emily in disbelief.  "You never completely quit! Just come out and have a drag or two.  That way you and Heather can get to know each other better."  
  
Benedict clenched his left hand into a fist and lightly pounded the arm of the couch in frustration.  
  
 _I know her, for fuck's sake!  I sat next to her at dinner.  We talked the whole time. I told her all about Nepal until there was nothing left to tell!  I know all about her biology paper.  I know all about her chemistry professor. She's very smart and funny, but we don’t really have much in common._  
  
He pasted a fake smile on his face. "I'm really trying to stay off the fags, Emmy."  
  
Timothy noted the two girls exchanged a disappointed look as they left the flat.  _They’re not happy but on the other hand, thank goodness Ben doesn’t appear to be interested in Heather. That will please Wanda to no end._  
  
"Don't take long, Emmy.  Gran baked you a very special birthday cake!" Benedict called after her.  "She worked all day on it!"  
  
Emily stopped and turned.  Her face split into a big grin.  "Gran's made me a cake? Her cakes are brilliant!" She grabbed her friend by the arm and quickly left the flat.  
  
Timothy wagged his finger disapprovingly at Benedict and clucked his tongue.  
  
"I'd tell you to put your damn mouth filter on, but it's too late."  
  
"I don’t know why I said that, Dad!  It just popped out. It was supposed to be a surprise."  
  
"Not anymore."  
  
Benedict's cheeks flushed.  He bit his lower lip and looked towards the kitchen.  "Where am I going to go? I need to make this call!"  
  
"Just go in my bedroom," Timothy said helpfully.  
  
"I can't!" Benedict hissed.  "Derrick's in there calling half the UK.  You'd think they could fucking do without him for one fucking day!"  
  
"Use your old room," suggested Timothy.  "The walls are thin, so just keep your voice down."  
  
"Don't I know it!" smirked Benedict, as he rubbed the back of his neck.  
  
Father and son exchanged knowing looks.  
  
Tracy breezed out from the kitchen with a small shopping bag in hand.  "Don't mind me, I'm just going to use your old room for a bit,” she said to Benedict. “I need to wrap a last minute gift for Emmy that I bought today. I don't want to disturb Derrick's phone calls."  
  
 _Of course you don’t!  That’s what I always hated about this flat – no privacy!_ Benedict threw up his hands in disgust as his sister disappeared into his room.  
  
Timothy gestured towards the hallway leading to the bedrooms.  
  
"When all else fails, you can always use the loo. It's a bit echoey in there, but it works in a pinch."  
  
As Benedict got to his feet, Jennifer rushed out of the kitchen.  "I’m going to use the loo to give my boyfriend a quick call.  Just knock if you need to use it."  
  
Benedict growled with frustration. He looked at his father. “Bloody hell! Has this family gone crackers around me?”  
  
"There's always the coat wardrobe as a last resort," suggested Timothy, inclining his head towards the entrance hall.  
  
“I suppose it’ll do,” sighed Benedict.  “I just hope she remembers me.”  
  
 _Too bad this girl isn’t Donna Saint James,_ Thought Timothy. _That would solve everything._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very little has been written about Wanda’s daughter, Tracy Peacock, and her family. It is common knowledge that her daughter, Emily, eventually became Benedict’s Personal Assistant. Their characterizations are completely fictional, as I know nothing of their personalities. Tracy’s husband, Derrick, and daughter, Jennifer, are completely fictional characters in every way, shape and form.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Donna gets her first voice mail from Benedict. Timothy suffers a major mouth filter malfunction, no thanks to Tia Maria. An unsuspecting Tracy sets sail into dangerous waters.

 

Benedict Cumberbatch sat cross-legged on the floor of the coat wardrobe and rang Donna Saint James’ mobile.  He noted that his hands trembled, his heart raced and his mouth had gone suddenly dry as he waited for her to answer.  
  
 _“Hi, you have reached the voicemail of Donna Saint James....”_  
  
 _Damn!  She’s not answering!  Maybe she’s talking to someone._  
  
He waited in the dark for several minutes before impatiently hitting the redial button.  
  
 _“Hi, you have reached the voicemail of Donna Saint James....”_  
  
 _Maybe she saw my name and number on her caller ID and doesn’t want to talk to me.  Maybe she decided I was weird after all.  Maybe she’s annoyed that it’s taken me so long to call. Bloody hell!  I wish she’d pick up!_  
  
Benedict could hear his family gathering in the lounge and knew he didn't have long before one of them came to retrieve him.  He tried again to no avail.  
  
 _Where could she be?  Maybe she’s working and doesn’t want to take calls?_  
  
Suddenly, the door to the cupboard opened to reveal a bemused Tracy.  
  
"Now, if this isn't like old times! How about ringing off and joining us? It's time for pudding.  Emmy's sure going to be surprised when she sees Mum's masterpiece."  
  
 _I wouldn't count on it,_ thought Benedict miserably.  "Be right there."  
  
He called Donna one last time and got the voicemail.  This time he left a message.

  
  
  
  
Donna Saint James and her colleagues parted company after their dinner at the Japanese Restaurant.  She got on the double decker bus and was able to get a window seat downstairs.  The evening had gone well. Not only did she have a date with the cute concert pianist for Saturday afternoon, but also the small restaurant had turned out to be a hidden gem.   
  
 _This will be an easy review. Not one thing we could find fault with, and the owners were so charming. I think I'll write it up when I get home._  
  
Suddenly, Donna’s cellphone chimed, alerting her that she had messages.  She scrolled down her screen and felt her heart skip a beat:  
  
Missed Call from Benedict   020-2224-3592   20:36pm  
Missed Call from Benedict   020-2224-3592   20:45pm  
Missed Call from Benedict   020-2224-3592   20:58pm  
  
Message from Benedict   020-2224-3592   21:15pm  
Message from Benedict   020-2224-3592   21:20pm  
Message from Benedict   020-2224-3592   21:25pm  
  
 _OH, No!  I had the damn ringer set to off!  Benedict’s been trying to reach me!  He didn’t forget me after all!_  
  
Donna's heart was palpitating as she called her voicemail to retrieve Benedict's messages.  His now familiar rich, baritone voice brought a smile to her face.  
  
 _"Hi Donna. I hope you remember me. It's Benedict. Benedict Cumberbatch. I wouldn't think with a name like that, I'd be hard to forget. But, if you did, perhaps you may recall my owl socks? I’m sure those would be hard to forget.  Ha ha ha! In case you actually don’t remember me, we met at Barbecoa last Friday night.  I was the man you shared that extraordinarily epic dinner with.  I'm sure you do now!  Anyway, I want to apologize for taking so long to call you.  I assure you it wasn't done intentionally by any means. I had it on my mind all week to call you, but things got a bit hectic.  I had alot of auditions and sort of lost track of the days..."_  
  
The message cut off.  
  
Donna started to laugh.  
  
 _Oh my.  He's quite the long-winded little message leaver, isn't he?_  
  
She saved the message and pressed play to get to the next one.  
  
 _"Hi Donna.  It's Benedict Cumberbatch again.  I think your mobile cut me off.  Anyway, I hope you don't think that I'm like this all the time, because I'm not.  I'm perfectly capable of keeping track of things.  I try and keep myself organized, but sometimes it just doesn't work. My friends are always teasing me that I need to hire a personal assistant to keep track of my schedule for me."_  
  
Donna loved the sound of Benedict's deep chuckle.  
  
 _He's so damn dorky, yet there’s something so seductive about that voice. I wonder if he realizes how sexy he sounds?_  
  
 _"I hope you've had a good week so far.  Your column on Sunday about the seafood restaurant in Notting Hill was quite enjoyable. I’m fond of seafood, so I’m thinking of giving it a try based on your review. It’s been a rather extraordinary week! I've had some callbacks, but I'll tell you about them another time."_  
  
The message cut off.   
  
 _Shit!  Get to the point, Benedict!  He's going to fill up my voicemail box with one message!_  
  
Donna saved the message and pressed play to get to his last one.  
  
 _"Hi Donna.  I'm back. It’s Benedict. I don't have alot of time, as I'm at a family birthday dinner.  I may have already mentioned that.  Anyway  I'm actually sitting here in the coat wardrobe in the dark, so I can have some privacy.  Ha ha ha! Anyway, I was wondering if you'd like to go with me to the Tate Modern Friday afternoon.  There's a Van Gogh exhibit that's set to open Saturday, and they're having a preview for museum members on Friday night.  I’m a member, so I was able to get two tickets for an eight o'clock entry.  I thought we could meet up and see some of the exhibits first, then have dinner before seeing Van Gogh.  Please ring me back and let me know how this sounds to you. Cheers."_  
  
Donna Saint James hit return call and hoped that Benedict would answer.  
  
  
  
  
“Happy Birthday to you,  
Happy Birthday to you,  
Happy Birthday, dear Emmy,  
Happy Birthday to you!”  
  
“Make a wish, Love!” Instructed Wanda as Emily stood over the cake, a huge smile on her face.  
  
“Make it a good one!” added Jennifer.  “Like a trip to Euro Disney!”  
  
“That’s what you’d wish for,” Emily laughed. “The point of this is for the birthday person to wish for what they want, Jen!”  
  
 _Mum would wish for a girlfriend for Ben,_ thought Tracy.  
  
 _If it were my birthday, I’d wish for Donna Saint James to be my daughter-in-law_ , thought Wanda.  
  
 _Mum would wish for a bird for me,_ thought Benedict. _I’d wish for Donna Saint James to call me back._  
  
 _I’d wish for Emmy’s uncle to pay more attention to me_ , thought Heather.  
  
 _I’d wish for this bloody night to be over already_ , thought Timothy.  
  
Emily closed her eyes, leaned forward and blew out the candles on the first try.  Everyone applauded and wished her well.  
  
Wanda handed her granddaughter the special knife that was only used to cut birthday cakes.   “Since it’s your birthday, you get to make the first cut.”  
  
“I really hate to cut into such a beautiful cake!  You went to so much trouble, Gran!”  
  
Wanda looked pointedly at Benedict.  “Pity it wasn’t a surprise.”  
  
“Nothing is sacred where my brother is concerned,” laughed Tracy.  “He couldn’t keep a secret if his life depended on it.”  
  
Benedict felt his cheeks redden.  “I can keep a secret.  I’ve got plenty of secrets that you don’t know about,” he said defiantly, nose in the air.  
  
Tracy began to pass plates containing slices of cake around the table.  “Go ahead, tell me one,” she challenged in an amused tone.  
  
“My friend, Adam’s planning .....”  Benedict stopped and glared at his half-sister.  “You’re trying to trick me.”  
  
“I don’t have to.  The ‘challenge’ works every time!”  
  
Derrick went into the lounge and came back with a bottle of Tia Maria  coffee-flavoured liqueur.   “I bought this today to liven up our after dinner coffees.”  He opened the bottle and offered it to Timothy.  “Care for a shot, Tim?”  
  
Timothy pushed his coffee cup towards Derrick.  “I’ll take a double, please.”  
  
“This is the best cake ever, Gran!” said Emily around a mouthful of chocolate cake.  “Thank you for making it for me!”  
  
“You’re welcome, and I’m glad you like it.” Wanda sighed and looked at Benedict sideways.  “If only it had been a surprise.”  
  
Timothy, who was sitting beside Derrick, pulled the Tia Maria next to him and topped off his coffee.  
  
“No worries, Gran!  I still didn’t know what it looked or tasted like – “  
  
“I’m sure given more time, you would have,” said Wanda sarcastically.  
  
Emily got up and gave Wanda a reassuring hug. “It was still a surprise. Don’t be cross with Uncle Ben, Gran. I’m not!”  
  
Benedict felt his mobile vibrate in his pocket.  He removed it and peeked at the caller ID.  It was Donna Saint James.  He quickly patted his lips with his napkin and jumped up, nearly knocking his chair over.  
  
“Excuse me. I’ve got to take this call.  It’s very important.”  
  
As he hurried down the hallway to his old room, he heard Timothy’s slightly slurred voice from behind him.  
  
“Is it that guurll, Ben?”  
  
  
  
  
  
Benedict slammed the door behind him and answered the mobile. He perched on the edge of his old bed.  Between shaking hands and heart  thumping with anticipation, he dropped the mobile on the wooden floor.  
  
 _Motherfucker! I hope she doesn’t hang up!_  
  
 _“Hello?  Benedict? Are you there?  All I can hear is clattering...”_  
  
“Hi Donna.  I dropped my mobile.  So sorry.”  
  
 _“I’m the one who should apologize for not returning your call sooner. I was reviewing a restaurant, so I had my ringer off.  I just got your messages, I mean message.”_  
  
 _Shit.  My message was too long.  She probably thinks I don’t know when to shut up._  
  
 _“... I wanted to call you back before it got too late.  I hope I’m not interrupting anything. I know you said you were calling from a closet during a family dinner.”_  
  
Benedict heard her laughing softly at the other end.  _She must really think I’m a prat. I never should have said I was sitting in a wardrobe._  
  
“It’s fine. We were just having coffee and pudding. I desperately needed a break,” he laughed.  
  
 _“You’re not back sitting in that dark closet, are you?”_  
  
“No.  I switched locations. I’m actually in my old room.  I’m at my parents’ flat in Kensington.”  
  
 _“Are the acoustics in that closet any better?”_  
  
Benedict laughed and ruffled his hair.  “Well, aren’t you the little tease? I’m sitting on the bed.”  
  
 _I like that she’s not afraid to joke with me so soon. It’s refreshing._  
  
So, Donna, you said you got my message...”  
  
 _“I just wanted to let you know that I’d love to see the Van Gogh exhibit and have dinner.”_  
  
“Brilliant! How about we meet in front of the river entrance on Queen’s Walk about two?  That’ll give us time to have a wander around the other exhibits before dinner.  I have timed tickets for Van Gogh at eight, so we’ll have plenty of time for a leisurely dinner.”  
  
 _“I’m really looking forward to it!”_  
  
“Me, too.  Do you remember what I look like?”   
  
 _That was a dumb question, Benedict.  Why did you ask that?  A piss-poor attempt at trying to be cute and clever._  
  
Donna could hear the playful tone in his voice.  _Ah, he’s attempting to flirt a bit!_   She smiled to herself.  _I should tell him: Hell yeah!  I’ve only been watching your movies every night before I go to sleep.  I think I know what almost every inch of you looks like, except for your privates._  
  
 _“Yeah.  I’m pretty sure I’ll recognize you.  But just in case – will you be wearing your owl socks?”_  
  
Benedict chuckled deeply. “Um, nope. I really don’t wear those out in public.”  
  
 _Normally, I bet he wouldn’t be caught dead in them,_ thought Donna.  He had no clean socks that night and had to wear them.  
  
 _“They really were cute. I wouldn’t hold it against you if you wanted to wear them,” she teased._  
  
“They were a gag gift from last Christmas.  My mum is an avid collector of barn owls and tucked a pair into my stocking. I only wear them at home.”  
  
 _“Owls?  Your mother keeps owls for pets?”_  
  
 _What kind of person keeps owls for pets in central London? Thought Donna. They must be in a coop up on the roof – like Mary Poppins and the pigeon lady!_

“Heavens no!  Mum’s owls are stuffed.”  
  
 _Even worse....a woman who collects stuffed birds.  Good gravy!  His mother certainly didn’t look like the type who would do that, but you can’t tell by appearances._  
  
 _“Oh... What an....unusual hobby. Does she stuff them herself or does she have a taxidermist do it?”_

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck.  _Shit!  She thinks mum’s crackers, and they haven’t even met yet.. She’d certainly understand once she met Mum...maybe._  
  
“They’re for display.  She buys them already... uh...already..prepared.  She finds them in stores,  car boot sales, jumble sales.”  
  
Donna let out the breath she had been holding.  
  
 _Thank God!  I envisioned her going out into the woods and shooting owls for sport.  Best we get back to the date discussion before I find out something else I didn’t need to know_.  
  
 _“Do you remember what I look like, Benedict?”_  
  
 _Ah, she’s playing along with me!  Oh, yeah, I remember every inch of you.  And I can’t get that red velvet lingerie set out of my mind. Or candy canes!  All I can think about are bloody candy canes!_  
  
“Yeah.  Dark-haired, hazel eyes, stunning dimples when you smile, about half a foot shorter than me, fond of candy canes.”  
  
 _Candy canes? What an odd thing to say, Thought Donna._  
  
 _“Benedict, did you just say I was fond of candy canes?”_  
  
 _For fuck’s sake, did I really say that?  Christ. I need to be careful._  
  
“Forgive me.  I still have the Christmas owl socks on my mind,” Benedict laughed nervously.  “I meant to say that you seemed to like mint alot.  You had mint tea that night.  Then when we had that mint and bean puree under the lamb kebabs, you mentioned that the mint made the flavour pop.”  
  
 _Hmmm...I don’t remember saying that, and I had Earl Grey tea. He’s trying to waffle his way out of something...I wish I knew what!_  
  
 _“You must be thinking of somebody else. I don’t recall saying that at all.  I also had Earl Grey tea,” Donna said, trying not to laugh._  
  
 _I can’t waffle my way out of things with her. Lesson learnt, Benedict._  
  
“You’re right.  My Mum likes chocolate mint tea actually, and....”   
  
Benedict was interrupted by a brisk knock on the door.  
  
 _There’s no where to hide in this damn flat!_  
  
“Hang on just a minute, Donna.  I’ll be right back.”  
  
He covered the mouthpiece. “I’m on the bloody phone!” He growled.  
   
Jennifer pushed open the door a bit and stuck her head in. She gave him a half-smile.  
  
“Sorry to interrupt;  but if I were you, I’d come back to the table.  Grandpa’s bragging about how well your career’s going; so the discussion of finding a proper bird for you won’t be far behind!”  
  
Benedict rolled his eyes. “Motherfucker.  Yeah, I’ll be right there.  Thanks, Jen.”  
  
 _“Is there something wrong with your mother, Benedict?”_  
  
 _Oh, where would you like me to start?_  
  
“Nope.  She’s fine.  I’m being missed back at the table is all”  
  
 _“It’s okay if you have to go Benedict.  I’ll see you Friday afternoon. Good night!”_  
  
“Good night, Donna!”  
  
  
  
  
  
Benedict rang off and hurried back to the table in time to hear his father finish telling the others about the callbacks he had had.  He plopped down in his seat and winked at Jennifer.   
  
“Ben, how wonderful that you have those two new gigs!  I’m so proud of you!” Gushed Wanda as she cut herself another slice of cake.    
  
“Thanks, Mum.”  
  
 _And now I’ll wait for the other shoe to drop._  
  
Benedict sat and drummed his fingers impatiently, as he waited for the love life discussion to begin. He didn’t have long to wait.  
  
“Now, if only you had birds flocking to you like the gigs are...”  
  
“Oh, for fuck’s sake! You don’t know everything that goes on in my personal life, Mum!” Benedict snapped as he accepted a fresh cup of coffee from Tracy.  
  
Wanda sat and ate her cake, while watching him like a hawk from under her eyes. He glanced over at Heather. She was taking it all in and flashed him a sympathetic smile.  
  
 _Jolly good, Mum, as usual.  Now, Heather thinks I’m just a pathetic sod who can’t get a date._  
  
“That’s enough, Wanda!” Scowled Timothy as he added some more Tia Maria to his coffee.  “I don’t fancy a rehash of what a pity it is that he’s all alone.”  
  
Tracy smiled at her half-brother.  “I feel so bad that there’s no special someone in your life yet, Ben.  I take it you haven’t been dating then? It’s such a shame that a wonderful chap like yourself has such trouble finding a nice girl to go out with.”  
  
Benedict sipped his coffee in an effort to control his temper. _I really do like being an only child._  
  
Emily chimed in. “You know, Uncle Ben, life is funny sometimes. The right person could be sitting right under your nose, and you don’t notice.”  Her dark blue eyes met Benedict’s across the table and she inclined her head slightly towards Heather, who had a big smile plastered on her face.  
  
Benedict noticed that Emily and Heather had not-so-subtly elbowed each other and were watching him intently.  He took another sip of his coffee and smiled at Tracy.  
  
“I appreciate your concern, Tracy; but there’s no need.  I am actively dating.”  
  
Wanda paused with fork midway to her mouth and sat up straight. _He’s dating?  Christ!   I have to find out more about this! Timothy can get as angry as he wants._  
  
“Who have you been dating?” Piped up Wanda, eyes wide.  “You didn’t say anything about dating any birds to me!”  
  
Benedict glared at Tracy across the table.  “Next time, please ask me in private. Now you’ve started the never ending poor-Ben-can’t-find-a-bird discussion.”  
  
“I’m sorry, Ben,” mouthed Tracy.  
  
“Well, he can’t,” Wanda said, waving her fork in the air.  “You have no idea how many dolly birds he’s brought home to us over the past year!  One worse than the other.  One didn’t eat, the other almost poisoned Tim with raw chicken sushi....”  
  
“What kind of nut uses raw chicken in sushi?” asked Tracy in disbelief.  
  
 _Let me nip this in the bud,_ Thought Benedict, feeling the aggravation begin to mount.  
  
“I’m just casually dating.  There’s no one special, Mother.  Don’t you think I would have told you by now?”  
  
“No.  Apparently, it’s the only time you can keep a secret!  And let’s not talk about that nasty biter!”  
  
“You’re right, Mum.  Let’s not,” Benedict sneered, as the hold on his temper began to slip away.  
  
Their ice blue eyes locked.  After several seconds, Wanda put her head down and returned to eating her cake with a renewed gusto.  
  
Benedict noted that he was the unwelcome center of attention. Emily and Heather had covered their mouths to stifle giggles.  Jennifer’s eyes were bugged out in disbelief, mouth gaped open. Derrick and Tracy had exchanged horrified looks.  Timothy yawned and sat back in his chair.  
  
“You know, Mum. Ben will find a girl sooner or later.  Didn’t you always tell me that there’s someone out there for everyone?” Tracy asked, trying to diffuse the potentially volatile situation.  
  
Wanda looked up from her cake.  “Yes, I did tell you that, but you were sixteen at the time.  You had your heart set on that rugby player; but there were other boys who wanted to date you. Ben’s twice that age with no prospects in sight!  Timothy and I don’t want to be living in the old actors home when he finally gets down to giving us smalls.”  
  
“That’s not totally true,” piped up Timothy from the head of the table.  “There _is_ a prospect.”  
  
Wanda froze, not quite sure she had heard him correctly.  She blinked and stared at her husband.  _What in bloody hell did he just say?_  
  
Wanda quickly took action.  She got up and went to Timothy’s side.  She bent down and hissed in his ear, “You’re pissed, Tim!  Now, shut up!”  She giggled nervously and said for the benefit of the others, “You don’t know what you’re talking about!”  
  
“I most certainly do,” Timothy insisted loudly.  “What about our prospect...our little....”  He belched and made a shushing noise at Wanda.  “Secret.”  
  
Wanda looked panic-stricken, but managed to recover quickly.  “Oh, that secret!”  She made eyes at Heather and laughed conspiratorially.  “We won’t say a word to Ben about it, will we?”  
  
Benedict filled his empty coffee cup with Tia Maria and took a healthy swallow. He rolled his eyes at Tracy.  
  
“Girls, why don’t you help Gran by clearing the table for her?” suggested Tracy, casting meaningful glances at Jen, Emily and Heather.  “We best be going soon.”  
  
Once the girls were in the kitchen, Tracy got up, sat beside Benedict and took his hand. “I’m really sorry.  I didn’t realize what a sensitive topic this has become.  Mum was right about one thing, Ben, there is a special someone out there for you.  Your paths just have to cross.”  
  
“Or you make their paths cross,” said Timothy as he motioned for Benedict to refill his coffee cup with the liqueur.  
  
“Tim, you’ve had more than enough to drink,” Wanda scolded Timothy, as she poked him in the ribs. The bile was starting to rise in her throat.  
  
Unfortunately, Timothy was not to be silenced. “You just give fate a big, old shove in its fat arse...” he continued.  
  
Wanda felt all eyes on them.   “Shut up, Tim! For the love of God!  Shut the hell up!” She whispered in his ear urgently.  “He hasn’t been this pissed in a long time,” she said to her curious audience with a forced laugh.  
  
 _For fuck’s sake!  He’s going to blow our cover!  It’s almost like my nightmare coming true!  I’ve got to get him out of here before he says anything else._  
  
“How about letting Derrick and I take you to bed, Tim?” asked Wanda, gesturing to her son-in-law.  She tugged Timothy’s arm for him to get up.  
  
“I’m not one bit sleepy,” protested Timothy, pulling his arm away.  “I want to stay and talk.”  
  
“No, you don’t.”  
  
“Oh, but I do.  I’m having too much fun watching you squirm.”  
  
Benedict stared at his parents with narrowed eyes.  
  
 _What the fuck is going on between them?  Something’s not quite right.  Mum’s acting very strange all of a sudden.  It’s none of your business, Benedict.  Stop being nosy for once. Talk to Tracy.  You don’t see her that often._  
  
 Benedict shook his head and squeezed Tracy’s hand.  
  
“It’s fine, Tracy.  You were just asking out of genuine concern.  How were you to know that the subject of my love life is like stepping into a minefield?”  
  
“You’re just too touchy, Ben,” grunted Wanda as she continued to tug Timothy’s arm.  “We love you and only want to see you happy and settled.”  
  
Benedict rolled his eyes and waved his hand as if conducting an orchestra.  “Thus the lecture begins....again and again and again.”  
  
“There’s a nice young bird in the kitchen,” whispered Wanda.  “Why don’t you go talk to her?”  
  
 _Anything to get him out of the room before Barrister Ben begins to question!_  
  
Timothy laughed out loud.  “You make her sound like a turkey ready for the roasting pan.”  
  
“...She’s single, intelligent and....”  
  
“Too young for me, Mum,” Benedict whispered back. “I’m not interested.”  
  
“Jolly Good then! He doesn’t fancy her. That must be a load off your mind!” Timothy said to Wanda. “One down, one to go.”  
  
Wanda quickly covered Timothy’s mouth with his napkin.  “You’ve got a bit of frosting on your mouth, Love.  Let me get it for you.”  She leaned close to him and whispered angrily in his ear.  “I’m not kidding!  Bugger off!  Now!  Not another word.”  
  
Timothy pulled her hand away.  “Are you trying to smother me, woman?  Now, stop that!”  
  
Wanda giggled nervously and folded the napkin. “He gets so silly when he over indulges!”  She looked at Benedict.  “As you were, Ben.”  
   
“I appreciate your concern, Mum; but I can sort out my own love life.”  
  
“No you can’t!  You’ve proven that over and over again,” scoffed Wanda.   
  
“Have you considered internet dating?” inquired Derrick pleasantly.  “Someone I work with used one of those services.  He had very good luck.”  
  
“Thanks for the suggestion, Derrick; but I’m not keen on finding my life partner that way,”  Benedict replied curtly.  
  
“Are you talking about Thomas in accounting?” Tracy asked Derrick, who nodded affirmatively. “Oh, Ben, he met a fine woman that way!” she exclaimed.  “They’re so happy!  I wish we could convince you to give it a try.”  
  
“I don’t think so,” began Benedict.  “I’ve got...”  
  
“A bird isn’t just going to drop from the sky into your lap one day!” Wanda scoffed, pushing her sleeves up over her elbows.   
  
“Unless she were dead,” interjected Timothy laughing. “Then you wouldn’t want her!  You need one to fly into your lap or is it fly onto your lap?!”  
  
 _This is like a bad sitcom that needs to be cancelled!_   Benedict finished his Tia Maria and got to his feet.  “It’s been an interesting evening, but I’ve got to be up early tomorrow.”  
  
“We should be leaving, too,” said Tracy pushing her chair back.  “I don’t mean to sound pushy, Ben, but I was just thinking that maybe a coffee date with Heather wouldn’t be a bad idea.”  
  
Benedict shook his head in disbelief.  “Now, you sound just like Mum! How many times must I say this?  I just want everyone to back off and let me sort things out for myself in my own way.”  
  
“Which is the slow way,” added Wanda with a toss of her head.  “You need to be more aggressive, Benedict.”  
  
Benedict stopped and threw up his hands.  “You know, I told you a few months ago when we had this conversation that maybe you should go place an ad for me in Craigslist for a bird being you know it all!  Well, why don’t you go ahead and find me the perfect woman?  Then let me know what time to be at the church.”  
  
Timothy snorted and stood up, swaying on his feet. He waved his hand dismissively.  “There’s no need, Son.  Your mother’s already gone and done that!  The ad is called ‘Daughter-in-law Wanted’ in case you want to read it.”  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to take a minute to thank everyone for all the lovely kudos and comments that have been left on this story! You all make my day! :-)


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of Timothy’s spilling the beans. Benedict and Wanda play tug of war. Donna watches To the ends of the Earth and sees Benedict’s end.

 

For Wanda Ventham, it was as if time had stood still after her husband’s revelation that she had in fact placed an ad in Craigslist for a wife for her son.  She took a deep breath and tried to calm her racing heart.   
  
The girls had come out of the kitchen and stood gazing at Timothy as if they didn’t know what to make of his comment.  Tracy and Derrick had frowned and exchanged puzzled looks.  Benedict stood, hands on hips, staring at Wanda as if not quite sure what to make of what he had just heard.  
  
Wanda gulped and opened her mouth.  She had no idea what to say.  What came out of her mouth was a loud, barking, nervous laugh that sounded akin to a seal.

“Oh for fuck’s sake! That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard!  Timothy you’re so sodding pissed you don’t know what you’re saying!”  
  
Timothy snickered and flopped back down in his seat.  “Oh, yes, I most certainly do.  I’m not pissed.  You placed that ad, and I caught you.  I caught you red-handed!”  
  
“Really, Tim!  Can you imagine me doing something like that?  That’s such rubbish!” Wanda exclaimed, hands fluttering aimlessly about.  She kept trying to stifle the barking  laugh without much success.  
  
“Oh, Grandpa!  Gran would never do such a thing!” Squealed Jennifer.  “She doesn’t even use the computer except for emails.”  
  
Emily clapped her hands together and began to laugh.  “Can you imagine if you really did such a thing?  Uncle Ben would be so mad at you, Gran!”  
  
“That’s so funny!  I’ve never heard of anyone doing that for their son!” Heather giggled and held onto Emily for support as they laughed. “Can you imagine how humiliating that would be if it were true?”  
  
 _Yes, I can fucking well imagine it more vividly than any of you will ever know!_ thought Wanda. _I need to diffuse this quickly! _  
  
Tracy studied her mother closely and frowned. “Are you alright, Mum?  You look like you could use a kip.”  
  
Wanda felt light-headed and quickly sat down hard on her chair.  She kept cackling hysterically and waved her hands about. __

“Oh, my!  Yes, could you only imagine that?  Ha ha ha!  Timothy, you have such a wicked, wicked sense of humour, you dear cheeky bastard!”  
  
 _I might actually kill you once you sober up!  I wish I could stop laughing!_  
  
Benedict bit his lower lip and crinkled his nose.  He locked eyes with Wanda, as if searching for the truth.   _She wouldn’t dare to do something like that...would she?_  
  
 _Oh my God!  He suspects that Timothy’s telling the truth!  I have to convince him otherwise!_   Wanda barked out another round of hysterical laughter.  
  
Suddenly, Benedict started laughing along with them.  “You really had me going there, Dad!”  He went over to Timothy, who had fallen asleep, head slumped on his chest.  “Come on, Dad, time for bed,” he said softly.  “Derrick, can you give me a hand?”  Benedict began to take Timothy under his right shoulder, while Derrick took him under the left.   
  
“I’ve got him!” Shouted Wanda as she got up. “I can manage.  There’s no need to help me.”  She pushed Derrick aside and pulled on Timothy’s left arm. “I do it all the time!”  
  
“That’s ridiculous, Mum!  Derrick and I can take him.  He’s too heavy for you to manage.  You’ll hurt your back!” exclaimed Benedict, pulling on Timothy’s right arm.  “Now, please let him go.”  
  
 _Damn you, Benedict!  I can’t risk him saying anything else!_   “I said let go of him, Ben. _Please_. I can manage just fine without any help from you or Derrick.”  
  
“Please let me help, Wanda.  Ben’s right,” chimed in Derrick.  “He’s too big for you.”  
  
Wanda pulled harder as Derrick made another attempt to intervene. “I can do it, Derrick.  Thank you!” she hissed while tugging Timothy’s arm.  
  
“Stop pulling at me you idiots!” bellowed Timothy suddenly, shaking his arms. “I’m not a fucking pawn in a tug-of-war game!”  
  
Startled, Wanda and Benedict both let go at the same time, causing Timothy to slide off the chair and onto the floor. He looked up to see his son and wife glaring at each other, then peering down at him with sheepish grins threatening to form on their faces.  
  
“What the fuck are you two dolts doing to me?  Wanda, stand down and hand me the ice bucket.  I need to heave – NOW.  Then let Ben and Derrick help me to bed. I need a lie down.”  
  
  
  
  
Wanda dashed into the kitchen, still laughing uncontrollably.  They heard water splashing in the sink and the sound of cabinets being opened and closed.  
  
“What’s wrong with Gran?” Emily asked Tracy.  “She’s behaving very strangely.”  
  
“I’ve never seen her act like that!” added Jennifer with concern.  “Maybe she’s worried about Grandpa.”  
  
Tracy frowned and motioned for the girls to go into the lounge.  “How about packing up all the gifts and getting ready to go home?  Emmy, please check the Overground Schedule to see when the next train departs.  Tell your dad that I think we should take a cab to Paddington Station to save time.”  
  
  
  
  
Meanwhile, Wanda was pacing about the kitchen frantically.  
  
 _I hope Tim just passes out on the bed and doesn’t say anything more to Benedict!   What will I do if he does?  I’ll keep denying it and cut out his tongue tomorrow!_  
  
  
  
  
Benedict and Derrick managed to get Timothy undressed and into his pajamas without too much resistance.   
  
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen him quite this pissed,” mused Derrick.  “And I’ve been part of this family for over twenty-five years.”  
  
Benedict smirked, “I’ve seen him come close, but this tops it. He’s going to feel it in the morning.”  
  
“Let me get him a couple of Paracetamol and some water.  I’ll be right back,” said Derrick as he left the room.  
  
Benedict sat at the edge of the bed, gazing down at Timothy.  It had been a bizarre end to an otherwise fairly pleasant evening.  He smoothed back Timothy’s hair from his forehead.   
  
 _I wonder if there’s any truth at all to what you said about Mum placing an ad on Craigslist?  Mum’s pulled out all the stops so many times on trying to match me up, nothing would surprise me. She certainly was acting as if it were true._  
  
Benedict’s thoughts were interrupted when Derrick brought over the water and two pain reliever tablets.  
  
“It’s been an odd night,” Derrick mused, handing the glass and tablets to Benedict.  “I don’t envy him in the morning. I’d better go call a cab then.  Cheers, mate.”  He patted Benedict on the back.  
  
“Derrick, do you think it’s possible that my mum actually went ahead and placed an ad for a..?  
  
“Benedict, I’ve known your mother for years, and I know just how strong-willed she can be when she’s got her mind set on something.   Believe me, there have been times when I’ve wanted to deck her.  I seriously don’t think for a minute she’d do that. For one thing she’s not computer savvy. And for all her bravado, she would never risk a rift with you or Timothy. Actually, the thought of her doing such a thing is quite amusing.”  
  
“I guess you’re right.  She doesn’t have the computer chops to do that anyway.  Safe trip home, Derrick.”  
  
Benedict gently shook Timothy, “Dad, you need to wake up so you can take these Paracetamols.  That way you won’t have as bad of a hangover tomorrow.”  
  
Timothy opened his eyes and looked up at his son. There was concern written all over Benedict’s face. Deep down inside, Timothy was aware that he had said something he shouldn’t have, but couldn’t remember the details. He struggled to sit up, finally allowing Benedict to help him.  Timothy swallowed the pills and washed them down with the water.  
  
“I have this sneaking suspicion I’m going to live to regret this tomorrow,” Timothy groaned loudly.  He turned over onto his side.  
  
Benedict chuckled.  “I’d say it’s a sure bet. Mum’s looking none too happy with you.”  
  
 _Hmmm...if I ask him what happened, I’ll only get cross-examined.  Better to wait until tomorrow and face Wanda’s wrath than his never-ending questions._  
  
“Dad?”  
  
“Hmmm?”  
  
“I feel silly asking this, but did Mum really place an ad in Craigslist?”  
  
Timothy felt chilled to the bone and suddenly quite sober.  
  
 _SHIT!  I must have said something about the ad!   For fuck’s sake!  Act, Timothy, act!_  
  
The only response Benedict received was soft snoring from his father.  
  
“I’m jumping to conclusions. You had too much to drink is all.  I know sometimes I say crazy stuff when I’m pissed. That’s just too over-the-top, even for Mum,” said Benedict aloud to himself as he adjusted the covers over Timothy.  “Good night, Dad.  I love you,” he whispered as he left the room.  
  
Timothy Carlton rolled over onto his other side and let out the breath he had been holding.  _Well done me!  I can act while pissed!_ He thought happily as he fell into a deep sleep.  
  
  
  
  
  
“Sit down, Mum, and get control of yourself,” said Tracy brusquely as she entered the kitchen and got Wanda a glass of water from the sink.  “What’s wrong with you?”  
  
“Nothing,” huffed Wanda, smoothing her hair.  “I just hate it when Tim drinks too much and acts like a complete arse.  He has no idea what he’s saying!”  
  
Wanda sat at the kitchen table and gulped down the water in an effort to compose herself.  Tracy sat across from her, saying nothing.  Finally, Wanda was starting to feel calmer than she had in the dining room.  She looked up to find her daughter staring at her with a bemused expression.  
  
“Want to tell me what’s really going on, Mum?”  
  
“There’s not that much to tell really!” replied Wanda, nervously running her hand through her hair.  
  
Tracy crossed her legs and sat back in her chair.  “Oh, I think there’s plenty to tell.”  
  
 _Don’t tell me she’s going to start with the Barrister Ben routine!  I can only handle one!_  
  
“Look, Tracy, I was just angry that Tim got pissed in front of the girls and was spouting off at the mouth about all kinds of nonsensical things. I don’t want them to get the wrong idea, especially Heather.”  
  
Tracy sat and listened to Wanda, weighing her mother’s words carefully.  
  
“You know how your brother can get.  The last thing I needed was for him to actually believe any of that rubbish Tim was saying.”  
  
“I don’t think it’s rubbish at all.”  
  
Wanda smiled.  “Good...Timothy...”   She stopped short as the meaning of Tracy’s words suddenly registered.  
  
“I think you really did place that ad, and you’re terrified that Benedict will find out.”  
  
Wanda took a deep breath.  “Tracy, there are some things you’re better off not knowing.”  
  
Tracy sat forward and spread her hands on the table. “Jesus Christ!  It is true! Why would you do such a thing?”  
  
“Please don’t ask me.  Just leave it be.”  
  
“I can’t believe Timothy would approve of such a scheme!”  
  
Wanda rolled her eyes and huffed. “Why does everyone call it a scheme? It’s a plan!  Scheme sounds so devious...”  
  
“And it’s not?  What should I call it then?” Tracy paused and looked up at the ceiling as if deep in thought.  Then she leaned across the table. “I call it conniving behind my brother’s back.  I want to know everything. Start from the beginning.”   
  
Wanda reached across the table and patted Tracy’s hand. “You can’t be a party to this, Love.  There are already too many people involved, and in this case the more is not the merrier.”  
  
“Bloody hell, Mum!  Just how many people are in on this scheme - plan?”  
  
“Three.”  
  
“That’s three too many.”  
  
“It’s been brought to my attention.”  
  
Tracy ticked off on her fingers, “Well, obviously you and Timothy – who’s the other person?”  
  
“My friend, Una Stubbs.”  
  
“Una?  How in the hell did she get mixed up in this?”  
  
“She knows your brother since he was born, and she feels bad that he has trouble with birds.  She helped me write the ad.”  
  
“Can I see this ad?”  
  
“No. It’s stopped running.”  
  
“You didn’t keep a copy?’  
  
“Certainly not. I destroyed all evidence after Benedict came snooping around one day while we were out. He almost caught me once, but I told him I was thinking of writing my memoirs. His curiosity still wasn’t satisfied; so I hid everything in a locked drawer. Luckily the day he picked the lock, I had taken all the papers along with me.”  
  
“He’s almost as good at picking locks as your are,” pointed out Tracy with a bitter laugh.   
  
 _Mum’s only telling me part of the truth.  She may have destroyed the physical evidence, but I bet she has password-protected computer files. I remember when she took that computer course.  She knows much more than she lets on._  
  
Their eyes met for several seconds.  Tracy shook her head.    
  
“Jesus.  I still can’t believe you did this, Mum!”  
  
“I just did it to give him a jump start.  I meant no harm.  Tim and I only want the best for him.”  
  
Tracy sighed deeply and adjusted the cuffs on her blouse. 

“Mum, Ben really doesn’t have trouble getting girls.  You were spoilt that he was with Olivia for so long.  You took it for granted that they would marry and have kids.  I know you guys are sad that it didn’t work out between them, but sometimes things happen for a reason.  Didn’t your mum always tell you that? Remember how hopeless you felt when things didn’t work out between you and Dad. By closing that door, it enabled Timothy to come into your life, and look how happy you two are.  I think it’s only natural that we all want to give him a hand in finding a girl, but we all need to back off.  I speak for myself when I say this as well.  Sooner or later, Ben’s going to meet the perfect woman for him – without anyone’s help.  I think part of the trouble is that he’s too damn smart for his own good.  Alot of the women he dates are no where near as intelligent as he is. He needs to meet someone who’s his equal.”  
  
Wanda smiled slightly and nodded.  
  
“Why are you smiling like that, Mum? Could it be because you may actually agree with me for once?”  
  
Wanda got up and went to see if anyone was within hearing distance.  She sat down and pulled her chair closer to Tracy’s.

“I’m smiling because I did find a bird, who Tim and I think will be perfect for him.”  
  
“Mum, have you been listening to anything I’ve been ....”  
  
Benedict sauntered into the kitchen with the empty glass, and both women abruptly stopping talking.  “Am I interrupting anything?”  He looked from one to the other inquisitively.    
  
“YES!” snarled Tracy.   
  
“NO!” exclaimed Wanda, glaring daggers at her daughter.   
  
Benedict shrugged and placed the glass inside the dishwasher. “Well, if anyone’s interested, Derrick and I got Dad settled into bed. He’s sound asleep.”  He leaned against the cabinets with folded arms.  
  
“Ben, Mum and I were in the middle of something.”  
  
“We were finished. You can stay.”  
  
“Hardly!  Ben, do you mind?”  
  
“I think I’ll be going.”  With that Benedict kissed his sister and mother goodbye.  
  
Tracy resumed questioning Wanda as soon as he was out of hearing range.  
  
“Do you mean to tell me that women actually answered this ad?”  
  
“I had well over fifty responses,” replied Wanda proudly.  “Of course we didn’t interview them all.”  
  
“You interviewed some of these women?”  
  
“Just the most promising ones.”  
  
“You’re right.  I don’t think I want to know anymore about this.”  
  
“You already know most of it.”  
  
“Great! Now, I’m an accomplice.”  
  
“Please promise me you won’t say anything to Ben! Tim and I have high hopes for this bird.”  
  
“I won’t, but I want you to promise me that you’ll stop meddling in his love life.  His affairs are his own business.  Okay?”  
  
“I promise I won’t meddle, but first, I have to make sure he and this particular bird get together somehow.  Then I’ll back off.”  
  
Tracy shook her head.   “I shudder to think what would happen if Ben finds out about this scheme - plan of yours.”  
  
Wanda’s face clouded over momentarily as she recalled her nightmare. “I’m well aware of what could happen, but it won’t.”  
  
“I wish I had your confidence, Mum. Anyway, I have a train to catch.  Thanks for everything. I’ll call you tomorrow.”   Tracy hugged and kissed Wanda goodbye.  “Remember what I said!  Leave things alone!”  
  
Wanda drank another glass of water and sighed. _She would have made a great barrister.  Antique frame restoration is wasted on her._  
  
  
  
  
Donna Saint James returned home to her apartment that over looked the Thames and South Bank.  She thought about the events of the evening while she removed her makeup and brushed her teeth.  
  
 _Who would have thought that I would have two dates by the end of the night? Perhaps my luck is about to change.   I’m looking forward to spending more time with James.  He seems like a very nice guy._  
  
Donna opened her lingerie drawer.  After pondering all the different sets she had collected, she finally slipped on a short, white pique cotton nightgown trimmed in alencon lace and a matching robe.  She looked at her reflection in the mirror.  
  
 _Oh, Donna!  Why do you go out and buy all these beautiful lingerie sets when the only one who gets to see you in them is you?  I do like the way they make me feel...all pretty and sexy.  I’ll just keep my hopes up that one of these guys turns out to be the right one for me.  Then there’s always Wanda’s son to consider. I just wish we could find a way to get together soon.  I think I need a little treat._  
  
She went into the kitchen and prepared a large cup of hot cocoa, topped with a large, vanilla-bourbon-flavored marshmallow.  Her thoughts soon turned to Benedict Cumberbatch.  
  
 _I’m so happy that Benedict finally called.  I was so worried that he wasn’t interested in me.  I can’t wait to see him again.  He was so cute on the phone.  Enough pining over him, Donna! You’re acting like a lovesick puppy.  Time to do some work._  
  
Donna sat down at her computer to write her column for the Sunday paper, which didn’t take long at all.  When she was satisfied with her review, she emailed it to her editor.   
  
 _It’s still early, so I can continue with my private Benedict Cumberbatch film festival!  I think I’ll watch that made-for-TV movie. It’s three parts, but I should probably be awake enough to make it through part one at least._  
  
Donna had downloaded a copy of ‘To the Ends of the Earth’ from 2005.  She settled on the couch with her cocoa and began to watch it. Donna enjoyed the first part of the film very much, especially the simulated sex scene his character had with one of the girls on the ship.  Donna began to feel very hot and set the cocoa aside as Part One came to an end.   
  
 _God, that was arousing! I need to calm down or I’ll never be able to sleep. Maybe I should forget this and do some reading first.  Perhaps a nice, boring cookbook._  
  
The second part was called ‘Close Quarters’.   
  
 _Should I start it now or wait until tomorrow? I was really enjoying it. Maybe I’ll start it and see what happens._  
  
The second part of the movie opened with Benedict’s character suffering from a skin rash.  Donna eyes widened in anticipation as one of the ship’s officers came to his cabin to inspect the rash.  Benedict’s character appeared naked, in his bunk with a sheet covering him from the waist down.  
  
 _Hmmm. Nice chest and arms. He’s lean, but I detect upper body muscle.  Shoulders are just wide enough.  I wouldn’t have guessed that his arms were so nice.  I bet he swims_.  
  
The officer pulled up the sheet to inspect Benedict’s character’s inner thighs, which were supposed to be made up to have a rash. Donna found herself on the edge of her seat as the camera panned in on his legs.  
  
 _Oh my, oh my.  Look at those thighs!  Those are very nice legs from what I can see. He’s definitely a swimmer. I’d bet anything on it. I wish they would have shown a little more. Why did they have to stop there?_  
  
There was some dialogue about fresh vs. salt water, with the end result being that Benedict’s character had to do his laundry and shower outside in the rain with special soap made for salt water.  
  
 _Ah, my lucky night! A nude scene!  If only the camera would go a bit lower..._  
  
To her disappointment his lower half was hard to make out due to  shadows.   
  
 _Damn!  Why did they make him cover his privates with his hands?_  
  
Then the camera panned down a bit more as he began to shower and do his laundry.  
  
 _Hmmm.  His butt looks nice, but I wish it were clearer. He really does have great legs!_  
  
Donna’s heart had started to beat faster as she watched him out on the deck, washing himself in the moonlight with just his large hands:

  
  
 _**She suddenly envisioned herself on the deck, in the private shower area, with nothing on but a towel.  His character looked up at her with a coy smile.** _  
  
_**“Care to join me, Miss Saint James?  The rain water is very warm and soothing.”** _  
  
_**“I don’t know, Mr. Talbot.  I do have a reputation to protect,” she giggled and batted her eyelashes at him flirtatiously.** _  
  
_**He stopped soaping himself and looked her over lasciviously.** _  
  
_**“You have my word as a gentleman, that I would do nothing to compromise your reputation – unless you wanted me to.  Do you want me to?”  He winked at her and smiled.** _  
  
_**Donna slowly swept her gaze up and down his body deliberately. He regarded her with a raised eyebrow. She stepped a bit closer to him.** _  
  
_**“I really wanted a shower before the rain stops.  I want to wash my hair. It’s been such a long journey already...”** _  
  
_**Benedict’s character held out his had to her.  “I promise it will be the best shower you’ve ever had.  No one will ever know.”** _  
  
_**Donna blinked. “Mr. Talbot, are you trying to seduce me?”** _  
  
_**“Yes,” came that deep chuckle from within his chest. “How am I doing?”** _  
  
_**“Very well indeed,” replied Donna as she stepped even closer. The thin towel was now soaked from the rain and clung to her curves like a second skin.** _  
  
_**“Come.  Allow me to wash your back,” Edmund offered.** _  
  
_**Donna approached him and turned her back towards him. He quickly removed the towel and flung it in the corner.  She could feel his large hands rubbing the soap lather onto her back.  He had a very gentle touch.  She closed her eyes and imagined his hands moving lower and lower until they cupped her buttocks.** _  
  
_**“Simply lovely,” he purred.  “Will you allow me to wash your hair, Miss Saint James?”** _  
  
_**“Mmm hmmm,” Donna hummed in agreement.** _  
  
_**Donna felt his hands as they worked the shampoo – that had materialized out of nowhere – into her hair.  He massaged her scalp, while planting soft kisses around her neck.  He nibbled at her earlobe, causing her to moan. Then he stood back and allowed the rain to rinse her hair clean.** _  
  
_**Donna suddenly wanted to see all of him. She turned and looked down; but his crotch area was hidden by the shadows.** _  
  
_**“Step into the moonlight, Mr. Talbot,” she said.  “I’d love to see what the shadows are hiding from me..”** _  
  
_**Edmund obediently stepped out of the shadows.  Donna focused her imagination on what his privates looked like.** _  
  
_**“My, you have a very generous package, Mr. Talbot.”** _  
  
_**He smiled smugly, then indicated the foreskin that covered his cock.  “Care to unwrap the package, Miss Saint James.”** _

  
  
Donna reached over and took a swallow of the forgotten cocoa, which had cooled down considerably.  The marshmallow had partially melted into a tasty vanilla foam on top.   
  
 _Good gravy!  I’m having a fantasy about Edmund Talbot or is it really Benedict I’m thinking about? If only they’d give me a good shot of his butt. I’d be forever grateful._  
  
Finally, Benedict’s character finished and ran naked back to his cabin, treating Donna to a full view of his buttocks.  She found the sight to be very erotic.  
  
 _Oh my, oh my!  This is better than I imagined!  And I thought he had a fine-looking butt in those jeans.  I’d love to see it in person._  
  
Donna replayed the shower scene again.  She was feeling very aroused, and her hand had wandered between her legs.  Before she knew it, she was lying back and continuing her fantasy about Edmund Talbot as she teased her clit with her fingertip:

  
  
 _**Edmund’s hands rubbed up and down her sides, applying the lather to her body.  He stroked her breasts and gently pulled on each of her nipples, causing waves of pleasure to shoot through her.** _  
  
_**“Doesn’t it feel heavenly to be out here, in the moonlight, just us in the shadows, Miss Saint James?” he whispered into her ear.** _  
  
_**“Yeesss,” Donna was finding it hard to respond as her desire increased.  She took his hand and placed it on her lower belly.  “Please, Mr. Talbot...Edmund.   Touch me...all over.”** _  
  
_**“It will be my pleasure to give you pleasure,” he said in a low, seductive voice as he reached down to caress her vulva.  “Good?”** _  
  
**_“Yes,” she panted.  “Lower!”  She could imagine that he was rubbing his huge hardened cock against her lower back.  He groaned in pleasure as he kissed her jaw roughly._ **  
  
**_His fingers found her clit and began to rub it in a circular motion.  “Still good?”_ **  
  
**_“Yes! Faster, please Mr. Talbot...Benedict.... faster! Mr. Talbot!! BENEDICT!”_ **

  
  
Donna’s climax caught her by surprise.  She realized she had called out ‘Benedict’ and shuddered at the vividness of her fantasy.  
  
 _We haven’t even had our first official date yet, and this is how he affects me.  God help me!_  
  
She sighed deeply as she studied his face on the TV screen.  He wasn’t handsome in the classic way, but there was something about him that she found very, very attractive.  
  
 _I think I need to see that shower scene one more time...._ Donna smiled to herself as she hit the back button on the remote control.  
  
  
  
  
Benedict was sitting up in bed re-reading his old collection of Sherlock Holmes stories before going to sleep.  It was partly for research for his new role as the iconic detective and partly for pleasure.  Benedict had not read the works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle since he was a child, and it was like revisiting an old friend.  Tonight he was reading The Hound of the Baskervilles.  
  
 _I think I’ve just read this paragraph for the third time...why can’t I concentrate?_  
  
Benedict closed the book and put it back on his bedside table.  He plumped his pillows and lay back.   He found his thoughts drifting to his conversation with Donna Saint James.   
  
 _I think I’m excited about our date.  I need to tell someone!_ Benedict got up to get his mobile off his dresser and turned it back on.  He decided to share his news with James Rhodes.  He sent a quick text:

  
  
_Are you still up?  B_   
  
_Have you forgotten I have insomnia? I’m always up.  How was the family gathering? J_   
  
_One of the strangest we’ve had yet.  Dad got pissed and Mum was acting like Lucille Ball in an old I Love Lucy episode where Ricky catches Lucy in one of her hair-brained schemes. Something weird is going on, but this time  I think I’m better off not knowing. B_   
  
_Want to come over?  I just got some new DVDs we can watch. J_   
  
_Thanks but I’m already in bed.  I wanted to share my good news with you. B_   
  
_?  J_   
  
_You’re not the only one who has a date with a pretty girl this weekend.  ;-D  B_   
  
_That’s brilliant, mate!  Can’t wait to hear all about her.  J_   
  
_Let’s do a catch-up lunch next week.  I’m already thinking of asking her to your concert.  B_   
  
_Aren’t’ you glad you listened to me and kept the extra ticket?  Anyway, I’m looking forward to meeting her.  Could things finally be going our way in the romance department?  J_   
  
_We can only hope.  If all goes well, maybe we can double date one night.  B_   
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going on a short hiatus, as I was diagnosed with pneumonia yesterday. I'll be back as soon as I'm feeling better!


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timothy faces Wanda’s wrath. Wanda’s tries to make plans with Donna.

 

  
Timothy Carlton paid the cab driver and followed his wife up the steps to Benedict’s flat. His head pounded with every step, courtesy of a hellacious hangover. They had spent the ride from Kensington to Hampstead in silence.  Wanda impatiently pressed the doorbell, and Benedict buzzed them in immediately.  
  
“Perhaps he’s taken to kipping out on the floor in the entry,” Timothy mused.  “He never answers that fast.”  
  
Wanda pointedly ignored him as they climbed the stairs to the second floor flat.  
  
“It certainly is refreshing and better than waiting on the steps for fifteen minutes,” said Timothy in a female voice, attempting to imitate Wanda.  
  
The only reaction from Wanda was continued silence.  
  
 _This isn’t a good sign.  I thought for sure she’d start talking by now. I just wish my head would stop pounding before the inevitable confrontation._  
  
Benedict had left the door to his flat open for them.  They found him in the tiny kitchen, making coffee in a pair of jeans and long-sleeved navy and light blue striped cotton v-neck jumper.  His hair had dried into soft curls, which he had combed back off his face.    
  
“Good Morning! We’ll have some nice, hot coffee in a couple of minutes.”   
  
_Hot, yes.  Nice, no.  I was hoping he would be running too late to make it,_ thought Wanda grumpily.    
  
_For once, I can use his strong coffee_ , thought Timothy, as he took a seat at the end of the breakfast bar, which had room to seat three people. “I could definitely use a cuppa after last night.”  
  
“Humph!” snorted Wanda as she dropped her handbag on a chair.   She approached Benedict and finger-combed his curls onto his forehead.  “I like your hair like this. Fringe becomes you.”  
  
“I have to grow it alot longer for Sherlock,” he lamented, pushing the curls up and off his forehead.  “It’s going to make me crackers keeping it tamed.”  
  
Benedict noticed that Wanda sat at the opposite end of his breakfast bar, away from Timothy, leaving an empty seat in between them.   
  
_Shit.  They always sit next to each other. They’re having a domestic. I hate when they have domestics. Thank God they don’t have them often._  
  
“Thanks again for coming,” Benedict said to his parents. “The plumbers just called to confirm they’ll be here by ten at the latest or as we like to say in Gloucestershire, nightingale o’clock.”  
  
Timothy barely chuckled, and Wanda said nothing.   
  
_This is bad.  Usually she smiles when I use bird time.  Okay. I’ll move on to offering them breakfast._  
  
Benedict cleared his throat before continuing.   
  
“Have you eaten? I can make us some breakfast. I’ve got some time before I have to leave.”  
  
Wanda smiled thinly. “No.  That would be lovely, but don’t go out of your way on our account...”  
  
 _Bloody hell!  I don’t have the patience for a domestic AND the martyr routine this morning._  
  
“I’m not going out of my way, Mum.  I’m making myself something to eat,” replied Benedict as patiently as possible.   
  
“We just don’t want to be a bother...”  
  
“I can speak for myself, Wanda,” Timothy snarled. “Whatever you’re having is fine, Ben.”  
  
Benedict leaned back against the countertop, arms folded as he gritted his teeth and waited for the storm between his parents to pass.  
  
Wanda sniffed with annoyance, nose in the air.  “Seems you like to speak for everybody – even when you don’t know what in the hell you’re talking about.  I can speak for myself, thank you.”  
  
Timothy smirked and gestured with his open palm towards his wife. “Ah, she can speak!”  
  
Wanda rolled her eyes.  “I wasn’t speaking to you.”  Then she smiled at her son. “Some breakfast would be lovely, Ben.”  
  
Benedict stopped gritting his teeth and did his best to return the smile.  
  
“So, now that we’ve determined who’s talking and who isn’t, what can I get you?”  he asked sarcastically.   
  
“Bread and jam is fine if you have it, Dear.  There’s no need to toast it if you’re pressed for time.”  
  
 _Well, I wasn’t pressed for time until the great breakfast debate began – to eat or not to eat?  Hold your temper, Benedict, and make her the motherfucking toast._  
  
Wanda got up.  “Excuse me. I’m going to use the loo.”    
  
Benedict watched as she flounced off down the hallway.  He shook his head and groaned.  Then he poured three mugs full of the dark, rich coffee and set one in front of Timothy.  He offered cream and sugar to his father before adding two cubes of demerara sugar to his own along with a generous splash of cream.  Benedict indicated the direction Wanda had gone with his head.    
    
“If it got any colder in here, I could make iced coffee. I detect the silent treatment in progress.”  
  
“Yes, Sherlock, you do,” replied Timothy as he added cream and one cube of white sugar to his coffee. “Those were the only words she’s uttered this morning.  I fear a full out row will ensue once you leave.”  
  
“All I ask is that you two keep the shouting to a minimum.  Bob sleeps until  early afternoon.”  
  
“Who’s Bob?”  
  
“Bob owns the flat below me.  He works nights as an overseas stock trader.”  
    
Benedict eyed Timothy as he put four slices of wheat bread in the toaster.  
  
“You look like absolute shit, Dad.”  
  
“I feel like it.  I’ll never drink on an empty stomach again. Lesson learnt the hard way. And before you ask, yes, I do fear her wrath this time.”  
  
Benedict waved his hand dismissively as he laid the counter with plates, paper napkins and cutlery. “You’re only guilty of drinking a bit too much is all and saying some off-the-wall stuff.”  
  
 _That’s what I need to find out.  Exactly what off-the-wall stuff I said.  There’s a fuzzy memory of my saying something about the ad being placed, but I have to be careful around Barrister Ben._   
  
Benedict set out a jar of strawberry jam and a plastic tub of butter. “I don’t understand why she’s so angry this time.  It’s not like you were out in public and got papped for dancing on a table or something equally scandalous.”  
  
“No worries there.  I’m too old to get up on a table!” Timothy chuckled sardonically.  He blew on the surface of the coffee to cool it before taking a sip.  “If this were espresso, I’d proclaim it excellent.”  
  
“Pretend it is, Dad.  Do you need some aspirin for your head?”  
  
“That would be paramount to my being able to hold my own in a row with your mother. I feel like my head’s going to fall off.”    
  
Benedict removed a small plastic bottle of aspirin from one of the cabinets and put it on the counter in front of his father. Timothy took two and washed them down with coffee.  Benedict stood across from him, watching him intently.   
  
“I don’t know if you remember, Dad; but at one point you said that Mum had gone and placed an ad for a girl for me.”  
  
The warning bells went off in Timothy’s head.  
  
 _NO!  Just when you least expect it.  The return of Barrister Ben._  
  
“I did? How about that? You never know what someone’s going to say when they’ve had too much to drink.”  
  
Benedict drank some of his coffee. “You know at first I really started to entertain the notion that she had gone and done it; but then I realized that you would never allow her to do such a thing.”  
  
 _Especially when it was a fait accompli._   
  
“Then after talking with Derrick, it dawned on me that it was too crazy – I mean Mum certainly doesn’t have the computer chops to do anything like that....”  
  
 _Alot you know.  She got an ‘A’ in that computer course she took. She knows more than all of us put together._   
  
“...then I realized that you were probably saying that to stop the row that had started between us.”  
  
 _Brilliant!  That’ll work.  I said it to stop the row.  I couldn’t have come up with a better excuse myself._   
  
“Exactly,” agreed Timothy.  “You know how I hate to see when she goads you about being single.  She was going full tilt last night.  I figured an outlandish joke would cut the tension.”  
  
Benedict laughed.  “That it was!  You had everyone going for a minute.  Then we realized you were joking.”  
  
 _Okay.  We’ll let him think that for the time being....heaven help us if he ever finds out that Wanda went and called his bluff._   
  
The toast popped up, and Benedict spread two golden brown slices with chunky peanut butter and drizzled honey over it.  Timothy spread butter on his and topped it with strawberry jam. Both men munched on their toast in companionable silence.   
  
_Christ, I never realized how noisy toast could be_ , thought Timothy miserably. _I should have gone with yogurt.  There’s nothing noisy in yogurt, but then he would have eaten toast anyway; so it’s a moot point._   
  
Benedict’s eyes kept darting towards the hallway. Wanda still hadn’t come out of the loo.  He shook his head.   
  
“She’s probably checking to see if I gave it a proper cleaning, bless her,” sighed Benedict as he brushed crumbs from his fingers.     
  
Timothy nodded his head in agreement.  “I’d venture to say that you’re right.” He paused to drink some coffee. “ _Is_ it clean?”  
  
“Of course it is!” replied Benedict indignantly. “I clean it once a week. I just did it....okay, it was last week.”  
  
Wanda finally came out of the loo and took her seat at the end of the counter.  Her son put down two slices of wheat bread to toast.  
  
“Did the loo pass inspection, Mum?”  
  
“Really, Ben!  Don’t be so cheeky! I just used it for my business.  Do you think I’d waste time looking in your tub and vanity?”  
  
 _Yes, I do; and you probably inventoried the contents of my medicine chest while you were at it._  
  
“I’ve also got orange marmalade, if you fancy it, Mum.”  
  
“Strawberry jam is fine, dear.  I won’t starve.  Don’t you need to get going?” Wanda clucked at him, as she looked pointedly at the clock.    
  
She got her handbag and removed a small envelope, which she handed to him.  “These are the Les Mis tickets for Una.”  
  
“I’ll make sure to give them to her as soon as I see her. I’ll call you later to see how the installation’s going,” said Benedict as he finished his toast, gulped down the remainder of his coffee and put the soiled dishes into the dishwasher.  “Make yourselves at home!” He called over his shoulder as he dashed out of the flat.   
  
Once Benedict’s footfalls faded on the stairs, Timothy and Wanda sat at opposite ends of the breakfast bar, eating their toast in silence.  Wanda surveyed the contents of her mug and got up to toss it in the sink.  Timothy reached out and took the mug from her.     
  
“He makes the best espresso in Hampstead,” quipped Timothy sarcastically.  “And the worst coffee in England.  Today I need lots of strong coffee and this is just the place to get it.”   
  
Wanda filled the teakettle and switched it on.  She began opening the cabinets and scanned the shelves, searching for tea.  
  
“Hmmm peanut butter, almond butter, sunflower seeds, hot chocolate mix, instant coffee, ground coffee, coconut water, raspberry vinegar. It’s a mystery why he’d keep his teapot in here and no tea. I wonder where in the hell he does keep it?”  
  
“I’d start with that blue ceramic canister labeled ‘tea’ next to the stove,” smirked Timothy as he sipped his coffee.  
  
“I wasn’t talking to you,” snapped Wanda, opening the canister and removing a bag of builder’s tea.  She  looked at it and frowned. “I’m not in a mood for builder’s tea.  I know he has other kinds...”    
  
Wanda opened another cabinet and perused the contents.

“This must be the sweets cabinet. Chocolate digestives, ginger nuts, Jammie Dodgers, custard creams, jelly babies, Kit kats...apparently aspirin, Panadol and Bisodol also belong in the sweets cabinet.”  
  
The last cabinet contained dishes and glassware.  However, Wanda’s search came to an end when she looked up to see an assortment of loose teas on the top shelf. 

"Here we are!  Why is everything important on the top shelves?”  She muttered, hands on hips.  
  
“Perhaps because he’s tall and that would be eye level for him. Tell me which tea you fancy, and I’ll get it down for you.”  
  
“There’s that irritating voice again!  I’m still not talking to you.”  
  
“Ah, you’ve taken up talking to yourself then. I guess that way you’ll always be right.”  
  
Wanda poured the boiling water over the tea bag and waited for it to brew.  She glanced over at Timothy, anger flashing in her ice blue eyes.  
  
Timothy got up and put his dish and mug in the dishwasher.  He added sugar and cream to the second mug of coffee and turned to face his wife.  
  
 _Let the long journey to forgiveness begin, Timothy._   
  
“I’ve had enough of the silent treatment, Wanda.  I feel like complete and utter crap.”  
  
“I hate to agree, but you said it first.”  
  
“Let’s just get it over with then, shall we?  Go ahead – tell me what I’ve done to earn your ire.  I barely remember Derrick and Benedict getting me to bed.  I also have this hazy memory of saying some things, but that may have been a dream.”  
  
Wanda sipped her tea and narrowed her eyes.  She took a bite of her toast and pondered what he said.  

“You really don’t remember what you said, do you?”  
  
Timothy crossed the room to look out the window at the Heath.  “I don’t know how he can stand all this bright sunlight. He needs to invest in some shades or drapes.”  He turned to look at Wanda. “In answer to your question, no, I don’t.  I was hoping you would enlighten me.  All I know for sure is that it was something bad.”  
  
Wanda took a bite of her second slice of toast.  “Bad doesn’t begin to describe it! You told everyone that I had placed an ad in Craigslist for a bird for Ben!  I couldn’t believe you’d let that slip!  Our cover blown in front of the whole family!”  
  
“Fuck.”  
  
“Yes, that sums it up nicely.”  
  
“I _really_ did that?”  
  
“Yes. You blurted out just about everything except her name,” replied Wanda around a mouthful of toast.  She washed it down with a swallow of tea.  
  
“Give me the details, I can take it,” Timothy groaned as he flopped down on one of the armchairs and held his aching head.   
  
Wanda finished her breakfast and then proceeded to act out Timothy’s faux pas over the next several minutes, leaving nothing out.  When she was done, she took a bow.  
  
“Ta-dah!”  
  
“Under different circumstances, I’d applaud your performance. I do remember you scurrying about like a cat who had a bucket of ice water dumped on it.”  
  
“I don’t scurry.  I was simply pacing while trying to think of how to cover your tracks!” said Wanda indignantly.   
  
Timothy gave her a smug look. “I beg to differ, but that was an excellent example of panic-stricken running about aimlessly, if I ever saw it.”  
  
“Amazing what you suddenly choose to remember.”  
  
“...and I definitely remember your screeching like a hyena.”  
  
“That was hysterical laughter,” huffed Wanda.  
  
Timothy raised an eyebrow at her.  
  
“Alright.  Perhaps that was a bit on the hysterical side.”  
  
Timothy took a roll of Bisodol tablets from his trouser pocket and took two. He offered them to Wanda, who also took two.   
  
“I also recall with vivid clarity the impromptu game of tug-of-war that you and our son were playing with me – like I was a bloody rag doll.  Thank you both for letting me go so I could wind up on the fucking floor.”  
  
“Well, you did shout at us to let go.  We were only doing what you asked.”  
  
Timothy shook his head.  “Emmy’s friend must have thought we were awful people.”  
  
“The girls were taking it in their stride until you threw up in my crystal ice bucket.  It wasn’t one of your finer moments,” smiled Wanda.  “I wish you could have seen their faces.  They were appalled.”  
  
“I can believe that,” chuckled Timothy.  “I was appalled I had to resort to that.”  
  
Timothy and Wanda sat quietly for a few minutes.   
  
“I’m surprised that Barrister Ben didn’t seize the opportunity to begin a cross examination,” commented Timothy as he massaged his temples.   
  
Wanda sat on the armchair opposite him.  “Oh, don’t think for one moment that his curiosity wasn’t peaked.  I could see it in his eyes.  He started to wonder if it might be true when the girls started to laugh and say what a preposterous idea it was.  He must have reconsidered that we wouldn’t do such a thing....”  
  
“ _I_ wouldn’t do such a thing.  You, on the other hand, jolly well just might and did, might I point out...”  
  
“...yes and _you_ relish every opportunity to point it out, Tim.”  Wanda sighed deeply.  “At least we’re safe for the time being. Thank goodness Benedict was distracted.”  
  
Timothy crossed his legs and shut his eyes.  “Not entirely, pet.  Barrister Ben made an appearance in the bedroom.  He thought I was sleeping; but he did ask Derrick if he thought it were true.”  
  
Wanda looked horrified.  “NO!  What did Derrick say.”  
  
“From what I remember, he wasn’t buying into it and tried to convince Benedict that the whole idea was rubbish.”  
  
“Bless him.   He’s gets an extra nice birthday gift this year...”  
  
Timothy held up his hand.  “I’m not done yet.”  
  
“There’s more?”  
  
“Yes.  After Derrick left, Ben gave me some Panadols and then asked me if it were true.”  
  
Wanda held her head in her hands.  “Just when you think you’re out of the woods with him...”  
  
Timothy got up and sat on the arm of her chair.  He patted her arm.

“Not to worry, Wanda.  I handled it perfectly.  In spite of all of the booze I had consumed, I managed to give a very convincing acting job.”  
  
“What did you tell him?”  
  
“Not a damn thing.  I pretended to fall asleep and started to snore,” grinned Timothy.   
  
“Well done you!”  exclaimed Wanda as they high-fived each other.   
  
They sat laughing for a couple of minutes.    
  
“There’s more I’m afraid,” began Timothy.  “Ben asked me this morning about the ad.”  
  
“For fuck’s sake!  He let’s nothing go – like a dog with a bone, bless him! What did you tell him?”  
  
“He’s convinced you’re computer illiterate, so you wouldn’t have the capability to place an ad.”  
  
Wanda laughed and pushed her sleeves up over her elbows.  “He should know that I was top of my class,” she said proudly.  
  
“Then he said he realized that I was making a joke to cut the tension and stop the row between you two.  I agreed in order to keep the peace and preserve our scheme.”  
  
“ _Plan_!”  
  
“Plan, scheme - whatever. How about secret?  I like secret. Our secret’s still safe.”  
  
They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes.  Wanda took his hand in hers and gave it a squeeze.  
  
Timothy shook his head and smiled.  “Christ, I still can’t believe I did that.”  
  
“Believe it.  I was there. I have never felt such panic in all my life, Tim.  It was as if that damn nightmare I had was going to come true!”    
  
“Nightmare?  You mean that dream you had that you didn’t want to tell me about.”  
  
“One in the same. Basically,  Benedict found out about the ad and disowned us.”  
  
Timothy massaged his temples.  “Unfortunately, I could see that happening if he did find out; but as long as it just remains you, me and Una; I think we can avoid any further damage.  We’ll have to remain extra vigilant, and I need to stay away from booze on an empty stomach.”  
  
Wanda bit her lower lip.  “Well, there’s one more person in our elite group.”  
  
“Who?”   
  
“Tracy.”  
  
Timothy opened his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger.    
  
“Wanda, my pet, love of my life and mother of my adored son: why in the hell did you tell Tracy?”  
  
“I didn’t.  She figured it out.  I was hysterical in the kitchen, and she just knew from my reaction that what you had said was true.”   
  
Timothy leaned forward and put his head in his hands.  “Christ on a crutch!  She’ll tell Derrick for sure.”  
  
“No, she won’t.  I didn’t tell her every bloody detail; but what she does know would incriminate her.  She doesn’t want to be involved and made me promise not to meddle in Ben’s love life.”  
  
“Too late for that, I dare say.”  
  
Wanda shrugged.  “Anyway, I told her as soon as I made sure he met the bird we selected, I’d back off and let nature take it’s course.”  
  
 _Don’t tell her that you encouraged him to call that other woman.  You don’t know whether he spoke with her or not._   
  
Timothy cleared his throat and looked about the room. “Speaking of our chosen bird, I wonder where the Tate tickets are?”  
  
Wanda gleefully rubbed her hands together and got to her feet. “I’ll take the bedroom, you take the kitchen and lounge.  I already took care of the loo.  The only thing I found in there was mold.”    
  
“I really don’t think we should be rifling through his things, Inspector Clouseau.”  
  
“And why the bloody hell not?  He thinks nothing of snooping through our things!  He’s been like that since he was a small, bless him.”  
  
“I wonder where he gets it from?” mused Timothy as he looked about the kitchen.   
  
_He did say he they were in plain sight, so he wouldn’t forget._  
  
Suddenly Timothy spied the tickets under a magnet on the refrigerator.   
  
“Call off the search, Inspector!  I found them! They were right here under our noses!”  
  
Wanda was by his side in a flash.  She examined them closely.  
  
“Two timed entry tickets for tomorrow night at eight.  I wonder who the other ticket is for?”  
  
 _I guess I’d better say something, but I’ll leave out the part where I encouraged him to call her._   
  
“Remember that woman he was telling me about in the restaurant loo?  He may have called her.”  
  
“You don’t know for sure?”  
  
“No.  That’s what he was doing in the coat wardrobe.  He was trying to call her.  I don’t know if he reached her or not.”  
  
“Damn.  You’re going to have to ask him.”  
  
“Me?”  
  
“Yes, you.  You’re the one he confided in, so you’re the one who should ask him.  He doesn’t think I know, remember?  I need to know what to tell Donna Saint James.  If we don’t take action, she’s going to forget about him.  I don’t want to have to place that ad again!”  
  
“Wanda?  Where are you going?” Timothy asked Wanda as she headed back down the hallway. “We found the tickets.”  
  
“I didn’t get a chance to look in his bedroom.”  
  
The front door buzzer rang.  
  
 _Saved by the bell,_ thought Timothy.     
  
“That’ll be the plumbers. I’ll deal with them,” said Timothy as he got up to let them in.  “How about making us a pot of real tea to go with some of his biscuit collection?  We’ll go sit upstairs on the rooftop terrace while they’re working. We’ll listen to the church bells and do some bird watching. It’s a nice day for it.”  
  
  
  
  
Wanda surveyed the tea tray she had prepared for her and Timothy to share up on the rooftop terrace.    
  
_Tea. Biscuits. Spoons. Sugar. Mugs. Napkins. Ah, I almost forgot the milk!_   
  
Wanda found a small white ceramic pitcher shaped like a cow and filled it with milk.  When she went to return the milk carton to the refrigerator, she closed the door harder than intended, dislodging one of the magnets.  The papers under it scattered onto the floor.  
  
 _Shit!  I just hope I can get up again once I’ve collected all these papers._   
  
Wanda easily retrieved the papers and began to sort them on the countertop.  One of them caught her eye.  
  
 _Well now!  What do we have here?  This looks like a schedule of sorts._  
  
To Wanda’s delight, it was a printout of the current calendar month with Benedict’s handwriting scrawled into and around the date boxes.    
  
_Perfect!  This is just what I need to figure out accidental meetings!  Now, if only I could read his bloody writing.  I think I’ll just make a copy on his printer and take it home.  I can decipher it later._   
  
  
  
  
  
Two hours later, Benedict’s new hot water heater had been successfully installed.    
  
“I think I’ll call him and let him know the plumbers are finished,” said Timothy.    
  
Wanda paused to listen.  “You can tell him in person.  I hear him on the stairs.  I’ll find an excuse to leave the room, so you can ask him about the tickets.”  
  
The door to the flat opened to reveal Benedict, carrying a pizza box.   “Thought you two could use some lunch.”  
  
“Brilliant!” laughed Wanda. “Waiting around makes one work up an appetite.”  
  
“They’re done,” said Timothy.  “From what I understand, it’s a separate tank from the heat, so you’ll never run out of hot water.”  
  
 _They’re sitting on the couch together. Thank God the domestic seems to be over,_ thought Benedict.   
  
Benedict grinned as he set the box on the breakfast bar counter. “That’s the idea! I’m going to celebrate with a nice, long, hot bath tonight.”  
  
 _Music, candles, orange-ginger scented bath oil…such a pity I have no one to share it with._  
  
“You’re looking better, Dad.”  
  
“Headache’s just about gone.” Timothy said.  “I hope you got pepperoni.”  
  
“Half pepperoni for you, half mushroom and sausage for Mum,” replied Benedict.  “I’ll eat either one.”  
  
“You’ll have to excuse me for a minute.  I drank too much tea,” Wanda headed off toward the loo.   Halfway down the hallway, she turned and made eyes at Timothy.  
  
Timothy got up and followed Benedict into the kitchen. He opened the refrigerator and removed three cans of Diet Coke.  When he closed the door, he pretended to notice the Tate tickets.  
  
“You’re going to see Van Gogh then?”  
  
Benedict smiled widely and lowered his voice. “Yes, and I’ve got a date!  The woman I was telling you about called me back and accepted my invitation.  I’m so over the moon, Dad! I have such a good feeling about her; but I’m going to take it nice and slow.  I just don’t want to jump into anything right away, you know?”  
  
 _My that was easy!  I didn’t even have to ask him. Mission accomplished!_  
  
Timothy nodded approvingly. “Jolly good idea, Ben.  Don’t push it and let nature take its course.  It’s either meant to be or it isn’t.”  
  
Benedict sat on a stool.  He ran his index finger along his upper lip. “I wish I had your patience. I don’t want to come on too strong and scare her away, but I don’t want to waste my time on someone who doesn’t share the same long-term goals as I do.”  
  
“Then I suggest you don’t mention wanting to get married or having kids until you’ve been dating for a bit. If you bring it up too soon, you’ll come off sounding needy and desperate.  I think you’ll know when the time is right.” Timothy clapped him on the shoulder.   
  
Benedict looked towards the hallway. “Please don’t say anything to Mum yet.”  
  
The bathroom door creaked and quickly shut. Timothy and Benedict exchanged amused glances and began to laugh.  
  
“Forever eavesdropping,” sighed Benedict. “She must be pissed off that we were talking too low for her to hear.”  
  
 _The pot calls the kettle black again._  
  
“You can come out now, Wanda!” called Timothy.   
  
  
  
After lunch, Wanda and Timothy took the tube back to their flat in Kensington.  They had spent a good part of the trip discussing what to do about Donna Saint James, but hadn’t decided on a definitive course of action.  Upon arriving home, Timothy sorted through the mail and paid some bills online.  He looked up as his wife came into the lounge with an armful of towels that she had removed from the dryer.   
  
“Lots and lots of bills, but only one meager paycheck,” Timothy announced disgustedly.  “But that’s the acting business – some months we have plenty of money and others not so much.  Like this month. I need to find something else to do.  Perhaps we should start a professional match-making business.”  
  
“You’re putting the cart before the horse.  Let’s see if we manage to pull off our first attempt without being disowned,” said Wanda, as she began to fold towels on the dining room table.  “So, what do you think I should tell Donna Saint James?”  
  
“Well, we know Plan A is out because he has a date. My vote is to go for Plan B. Tell her to meet him at Parliament Hill Market on Saturday morning.  He usually goes around eleven. It’s not that big of a market, so she should be able to find him easily. We’ll try emailing another photo of him that hopefully she can open.  He’s such a creature of habit that he goes to the same stands every week, in the same order. I think she should wait around near Flour Station’s stand.  He never fails to go for one of their Chelsea Buns.”  
  
Wanda continued to fold towels. “There’s another option. He took that call from Waterstones’ while we were eating lunch.  A book he ordered on Van Gogh came in, and he’s hot to pick it up tomorrow after his costume fitting for Burlesque Fairytales. I heard him say that he’d be in around eleven. She could be in the bookstore and accidentally bump into him there.  You know Ben, he’ll have a look around while he’s there.  He never just picks up something and leaves. She could trail him easily.  I also think it’s a more controlled setting than the market.”   
  
Timothy smirked.  “You are the head of this organization, love, so I defer to you to make the decision.  I’m going to change and go to the Garrick Club for a game of pinochle.”   
  
Wanda handed him a stack of towels to place in the linen closet on his way to their bedroom.  She sat down on the couch and called Donna Saint James’ number on her mobile.  Donna answered on the fourth ring.  
  
 _“Hello. This is Donna Saint James.”_  
  
“It’s Wanda Ventham.  How are you, Donna?”   
  
_“Fine, Wanda. How about you?”  It certainly took her long enough to call!_   
  
“Couldn’t be better.  I’m calling because I finally got hold of my son’s schedule and have a plan for an accidental meeting.”  
  
 _Damn!  She’s calling about the Tate Plan, and I have a date with Benedict!_  
  
Wanda noticed that Donna hesitated slightly before responding.  
  
“I hope you’re not calling about meeting your son at the Tate Modern, because I already have plans for tomorrow night.”  
  
“No.  That didn’t work out.  I’ve got another plan in mind.”  
  
“Great.  Fill me in.”  
  
“Friday morning he’s going to be at Waterstones Book Shop in Picadilly around eleven to pick up a book he ordered.”  
  
 _I’ve got a manicure and pedicure that morning.  Then I have to meet Benedict at two.  That won’t give me enough time to do both._  
  
Wanda noticed that Donna hesitated slightly once again before responding.  _Now what?  Don’t tell me she has plans in the morning!_  
  
“Unfortunately, that’s not going to work, Wanda.  I’ve got plans in the morning, so eleven would be cutting it close – even if he’s on time..”  
  
 _Which he won’t be, bless him. Bloody hell!  Let’s go to the backup plan,_ thought Wanda as she began to get frustrated.  
  
 “Not a problem, Donna.  I have a backup plan.  He’ll be at the Parliament Hill Farmers Market in Hampstead on Saturday Morning.  He goes around eleven and visits the same stands every week to do his food shopping.”  
  
 _Shit.  I’ve got a coffee date with James Rhodes at one thirty._ Donna did some quick calculations in her head.  _There’s not enough time to do both without getting stressed._   
  
Again, Wanda noticed a hesitation before Donna replied.  _Now what?  Let me guess - she has plans._  
  
 _“Gosh, I don’t know what to say, Wanda.  I’ve got something set up for Saturday afternoon.”_  
  
 _All of a sudden she’s the belle of the ball! I need to think positive. Maybe we can still make this work._  
  
“What time?”  
  
 _“One thirty.”_  
  
“Well, if you’re at the market by eleven and make contact with him right away, you can still have time to do both.”  
  
 _Wanda’s getting a bit pushy now.  There’s no way I can do both._   
  
There was another hesitation before Donna spoke.   
  
_“I don’t think that’ll work, Wanda. Even if your son is on time, I still have to find him. Then we have to strike up a conversation.  That doesn’t leave me enough time to get from Hampstead back to Marylebone.  It’s a forty minute tube ride at best.  That wouldn’t give me enough time to talk with your son.  I’ll feel under pressure.”_  
  
Donna heard a barely audible sigh at the other end of the phone.  
  
 _Did Wanda just sigh?  Well, well, she’s not happy.  What does she expect when she gives me next to no notice?  I’m not going to sit home and wait for her to figure our her son’s schedule._   
  
“I understand, Donna. How about we try meeting at the market the following week?  I’ll just make sure he’s got nothing planned and let you know.”  
  
 _“Okay.  I just ask that you try and give me more notice.  Had I known sooner, perhaps I could have juggled things around.” Except my date with Benedict.  I wouldn’t miss that for anything!_  
  
 _Donna should only know what he’s like when it comes to his idea of time management!  These two plans were the closest I could get to a sure thing. Damn!_  
  
 “I’ll try but it’s not always easy to pin him down,” Wanda laughed nervously.  “By the way, I’m going to send you another photo of him in a different format.”  
  
 _“Please understand that I can’t put my social life on hold while I sit around waiting for you to call, Wanda. No offense.”_  
  
“None taken, Dear.”  _I’m lying. I’m not only offended, but I’m so fucking frustrated right now I could scream!_  
  
 _“I’m glad. I look forward to hearing from you soon, Wanda!  Take care.”_  
  
“Bye.”  Wanda rang off and tossed her mobile onto the couch in disgust.  “Hells bells!  I fucking can’t believe it!” she shouted and punched a pillow.   
  
“What on earth did the pillow do to you?” inquired Timothy as he entered the lounge. “I thought we had specifically reserved Friday nights for our pillow fights.”  
  
Wanda punched the pillow again and flung it angrily onto the couch.  
  
“I thought you’d be on cloud nine right about now,” Timothy ventured.   
  
“Well, I’m not,” fumed Wanda.  “I’m in prospective daughter-in-law hell.  Can you believe that she has not one, but two dates?”  
  
“Dates?”  
  
“Yes! Dates!  All of a sudden she’s so popular.”  
  
“Did she actually come out and say she has dates?”  
  
“Not in so many words, but if there is one thing I can do, it’s reading between the lines.”   
  
“In all fairness to her, you did take your time getting back to her. You can’t expect her to put her life on hold while she waits for your call.”  
  
“Bloody hell, Tim!  That’s what she said!”  
  
“That’s because Donna and I obviously think alike. She’ll be the perfect daughter-in-law, because she’ll always take my side.  I can tell.”  
  
“Not in my dream she didn’t,” Wanda scoffed.  “She sold you down the river.”  
  
Timothy kissed her on top of the head and handed her a pack of cigarettes he pulled from his jacket pocket.  ‘Here.  I think you could use one.”    
  
“I thought we made a pact to quit.”  
  
“We did, but sometimes I need one.  Like today.  I’ll have it on my way to the club and that’ll be it for a long time.”  
  
Wanda wrinkled her nose.  “I’d love one, but I’ll feel guilty afterwards.”  
  
“We’re going to hell anyway for butting into Ben’s life, so we might as well enjoy ourselves on the way.”  
  
She removed a cigarette from the pack.  “I’ll have it on the roof later.  Seriously, what are we going to do, Tim?”  
  
“Well, I can tell you what I’m going to do.  I’m going to the club as planned.”  And with that Timothy headed out of the flat.   
  
“Traitor!” Wanda called out after him.       
  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you lovely readers for all the kind wishes! I'm much better and back writing. This chapter was extra long as a way of thanking everyone for being so patient.


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Benedict and Donna waffle their way through their first official date.

  
  
Donna Saint James had dressed carefully for her date with Benedict Cumberbatch. After trying on three outfits, she had finally selected a black and white print skirt with a long-sleeved, black sweater belted over it.  Her black leather pumps had ankle-straps and medium heels, so she’d be able to walk around the museum comfortably.  At the last minute, she had decided to ditch her large brown handbag in favor of a small shoulder bag.  
  
It was a sunny, warm Spring afternoon with a light breeze blowing off the Thames.  Donna was early and had arrived at one-thirty.  She decided to take a stroll along the riverwalk to keep from being nervous.  Afterwards, she tried her best not to pace in front of the museum entrance, so she would appear calm and collected.  Unfortunately, she was anything but.  Her stomach was filled with butterflies at the anticipation of seeing Benedict again.  She took out a small mirror to check her makeup and hair. Nothing had changed since leaving her apartment. Satisfied that she still looked presentable, Donna checked her watch again.  
  
 _It’s almost two-thirty.  He did say two.  I hope he’s not one of those perpetually late people....or worse, I hope he’s not going to stand me up!_  
  
“Donna!”  
  
Donna’s heart began to race as she turned to see Benedict coming up the walk towards her.  He was dressed in bleached jeans and a bright yellow T-shirt, topped with a dusty rose-colored corduroy jacket. There were chunky-looking black boots on his feet.  
  
 _Oh my!  That is one very interesting outfit. I promised myself I wouldn’t look at his socks no matter what, but I wonder if he’s wearing normal ones. Too bad I won’t be able to see because of those boots._  
  
“Hi Benedict!” The butterflies in Donna’s stomach were fluttering at an all time high as he approached her.  She nervously smoothed her hair and shifted her bag to the other shoulder.  
  
 _Oh my gosh!  Is he going to kiss me or shake hands?  Maybe I should offer my hand first, but I’d really like a kiss from those gorgeous lips....I’ll let him make the first move._  
  
Benedict felt as if his stomach was going to bottom out upon seeing Donna again.   Her face broke into a wide smile, and he felt that she was genuinely pleased to see him in spite of the fact that he was late.  Benedict always knew when Olivia was displeased with him for being late.  He could spot her special ‘pissed off’ face (that was reserved for him alone) a mile away, not to mention the inevitable row that would ensue once they were together.   
  
 _She’s as cute as I remember.  I like her taste in clothes.  Thank God she left that monstrosity of a handbag home. Should I shake hands or kiss her?  A handshake seems so formal, and we’ve already spent time together. I’ve already kissed her, and this is really like a second date;, so I probably should kiss her.  Should I kiss her on one cheek or both?  I don’t want her to think I’m too forward. Maybe I shouldn’t do anything. Shit!  What to do? I need to make a decision quickly._  
  
Benedict leaned over and greeted her continental style with a quick gentle kiss on both cheeks.  “You look very pretty today.”  
  
 _She’s blushing.  I think that was the right greeting.  Well done me!_  
  
Donna noticed when he pulled away, his cheeks were flushed.  “It’s good to see you, Benedict.”  
  
 _The perfect greeting. It looks like he enjoyed it, too. I’d love to feel those lips in a full-on kiss._  
  
He gave her a shy smile as he rubbed the back of his neck.   “I hope you weren’t waiting long.  There were extensive delays on the Northern Line, so I decided to take my bike.”  
  
Donna blinked in surprise as they began to walk towards the museum entrance. “Wow!  I’m impressed. That must have been a long ride.  I don’t think my legs could hold out pedaling for that long.”  
  
“Heavens, no!  Not that kind of bike,” Benedict chortled. “I was referring to my motorbike.  I took it to save time, but the search for parking negated any time I might had gained.  I’m usually late, but this time I wasn’t.  I really intended to be on time, and I was - up until I arrived at the tube station and found out there were long delays because there was a train stalled between stations.  So, I went back home and got my motorbike.  When I turned it on, the fuel gauge was on empty, so I  had to stop off to get petrol before heading into London.”  He looked at her hesitantly. “ I’m truly sorry. I don’t want to start our date off on the wrong foot.”  
  
 _For fuck’s sake, Benedict – shut up! Why did you tell her all that? A simple, ‘there were delays so I took my motorbike’ would have been sufficient.  It wasn’t a good idea to tell her you’re always late either.  What was that going to accomplish?_  
  
Donna smiled at him. “And you haven’t, Benedict. Actually, I was a little early, so I took a walk along the river to pass the time being it’s such a nice day.”  
  
 _Ah, ha! Just as I suspected.  He’s a perpetually late person.  He’s also quite the little waffler._  
  
 _Hmmm...I bet she’s one of those people who are always early._  
  
“Shall we?” Benedict gestured that they should head into the museum.  “Have you been here yet?”  
  
“No.  I haven’t had time, so I’m counting on you to be my tour guide,”  Donna replied eagerly.  
  
Benedict held open the door for her to enter.  “It will be my pleasure.  I’ll make sure you see all the highlights before dinner.”  
  
“I’ve read many good reviews about their restaurant.  Have you dined here before or is it your first time?”  
  
“I come here quite often. The food is wonderful, as is the view.  I think it’s one of the most romantic views in London.”  
  
“I’m also looking forward to seeing VanGogh.”  
  
Benedict suddenly stopped in his tracks and palmed his forehead.  “Shit!  The tickets!  I think I left them at home.  I changed my clothes three times because I couldn’t decide on what to wear.  I finally went back to what I put on in the first place.”  
  
 _Oh this is too good to be true!  He was concerned about his appearance as much as I was. That is so sweet._  
  
Donna touched his arm reassuringly. “You’re not alone, Benedict.  I also changed outfits three times."  
  
Benedict did a double take. “Really? That makes me feel so much better!  I  wanted to look extra nice being it’s our first date....well, it’s technically our first date; but it feels more like a second date.  It’s hard to figure out sometimes what to wear...I didn’t want to look too formal, yet I didn’t want to look too casual....”  
  
 _Looks like he opted for the ‘mostly casual’ look today.  I shudder to think what ‘too casual’ looks like._  
  
“...I usually don’t waste an enormous amount of time putting outfits together.  I’d prefer to have extra sleep time, so I tend to pull out the first clean thing I can find.”  
  
 _I can believe that. And what a fine and splendid example of it stands before me._  
  
Benedict rubbed the back of his neck and chewed on his lower lip.  
  
 _Shut up, Benedict!  You’re babbling away about things she doesn’t need to know.  Stop being scatty and look for the motherfucking tickets instead._  
  
“I can’t recall where I put the sodding tickets.  I know I had them,” he mumbled more to himself than to Donna.  
  
Donna stood by and watched as he impatiently went through his jacket pockets.  Nothing.  He checked his jeans pockets.  Nothing.   Finally, he checked his T-shirt pocket.  Nothing.  
  
 _Hmmm...this isn’t bearing well.  He’s the type who sleeps until the last possible minute and then runs around swearing as he selects his outfit directly from the dryer.  I can actually visualize it. I bet he’s wearing mismatched socks under those boots._  
  
Benedict clenched his fists by his side and groaned in exasperation.  
  
“Bloody hell!  They’re not here!  I had to have left them under my fridge magnet.  I’ve got to go back home and get them...at least I know where they are; so I shan’t be long.  Can you ever forgive me? If you don’t want to wait here, I totally understand or maybe you could start looking at the exhibits without me.  I shouldn’t be more than an hour back and forth....as long as there isn’t much traffic. Then I have to find parking again.  I prefer street; but I think I noticed a car park a couple of blocks from here.  I can always just pop in there. But if the tube delays have been sorted, then I’ll just hop back on the tube. Wait!  You can come with me – I think I’ve got an extra helmet in the storage compartment. Then you don’t have to wait by yourself. Have you ever ridden a motorbike?”  
  
 _Holy cow!  He’s making me dizzy with all this waffling. Why doesn’t he look in his wallet – wouldn’t that be the obvious place?_  
  
“By any chance did you put them in your wallet?” Donna asked quietly.  “That’s where I always put my tickets.”  _Unless you also left your wallet at home, which wouldn’t surprise me either._  
  
Benedict pulled his wallet out of the front pocket of his jeans and opened it.  His face lit up as he extracted the two tickets.  “Thank God!  You know I actually do put tickets in my wallet.  I think I just got a bad case of first date jitters.”  
  
 _Why did I tell her that? So far you told you that you’re habitually late, could care less about what you wear and like to sleep in  Now, I’ve come across as a complete dolt who can’t keep track of his tickets. Well done me. I need to turn on the mouth filter.  Less said the better._  
  
“It’s okay, Benedict.  Everyone gets first date jitters. I’ve had them all day.”  
  
“You have?”  
  
“Yeah.  I think it’s only normal.”  
  
Benedict smiled bashfully at her as he tucked his wallet back in his jeans.  He noticed the butterflies had calmed down, and he suddenly was feeling more at ease with her.  
  
“So, how about we start with some Salvador Dali then?”  He asked as he stopped to get two museum guides and handed one to Donna.  
  
“Lead the way, Mr. Cumberbatch.”   
  
  
  
  
Benedict was true to his word and made sure Donna had seen all the highlights of the Tate Modern before it was time for their dinner reservation.  He had proven to be an interesting guide, as he knew quite a bit about modern art.  She found that the time had passed quickly, yet they didn’t rush.  As they stood waiting for the lift to take them up to the restaurant, Donna’s stomach rumbled very loudly.   
  
 _Oh, no!  Why now? Food is only minutes away.  I know he had to have heard that.  This is mortifying!_  
  
“My stomach is fond of reminding me when it’s time to eat,” Donna said half-jokingly, half-apologetically.  
  
“Mine was doing the same thing while we were looking at that short film about Dali,” Benedict confessed.  “I was sure you heard.”  
  
“That was you?” she giggled.  “I think you get the award for loudest stomach.”  
  
He shrugged and smiled.  “Yeah.  I was running around and forgot to eat, so I’m starved.”  
  
 _He forgets to eat, bless his little heart.  No wonder he’s so thin. I don’t think I’ve ever missed a meal._  
  
The lift door slid open, and they walked in.  They were the only passengers. Benedict pressed the button for the sixth floor.  
  
“I never forget to eat,” said Donna, rolling her eyes.  “I always look forward to stuffing something new and exciting in my mouth.”  
  
 _Why did I say that? That sounded like a double entendre.  I didn’t mean that at all. I meant that I like to eat.  He’s going to think I’m flirting with him, not that the thought hasn’t crossed my mind._  
  
Benedict’s eyes widened, as he ran his tongue across his lower lip.  He had a partly perplexed, yet partly amused expression as the lift door slid open to reveal the sixth floor. He looked at her sideways as she walked off the lift.  
  
 _Is she flirting with me? I wouldn’t mind helping her out. Actually, I’d love nothing more than to feel her lips around my...._  
  
Donna coughed slightly.  “I was talking about putting food in my mouth.”  
  
 _Shit!  That sounded worse than my original comment. Now, he knows that I thought it sounded risqué. Maybe he didn’t even think I was flirting with him in the first place..  I bet he thought it was an innocuous comment or that I was making a joke. Now, I’ve gone and drawn attention to it._  
  
“Another poor attempt at a joke, I’m afraid,” she said with a self-conscious laugh.  
  
“I knew what you meant, Donna. Though I must admit that I _really_ enjoy your accidental double entendres,” said Benedict with a sly smile.  “The restaurant’s this way.”  
  
 _Change the subject, Donna.  Tell him you saw him and his family._  
  
“By the way, I saw you Wednesday night on Kensington High Street; but you didn’t see me,” ventured Donna as they walked along.  “I was on a bus outside the tube station, and you were greeting some people who had gotten off my bus.  I knocked on the window, but you didn’t see me. Was that your family?”  
  
A look of disappointment crossed Benedict’s face.  “No, I didn’t see you!  I wish I had.  That was my sister and her family.”  
  
 _Ah, ha!  That was his sister.  She has to be in her fifties, so his parents must be in their seventies.  Benedict must have been a surprise._  
  
  
  
  
The Sixth Floor restaurant was sleek and stylish with floor-to-ceiling windows, unpolished oak floors, and plain black tables and chairs. The hostess led them to a center window table for two, which was set cattycorner, so Benedict and Donna could sit beside each other and look out across the Thames at Saint Paul’s Cathedral and the surrounding area.  
  
“What a beautiful view!” exclaimed Donna, as Benedict held out her chair. “You were so right, Benedict.  It’s a very romantic setting.”  
  
 _Oh my God, it feels so good to sit down,_ thought Donna.  _These shoes are not as comfortable as I thought._   She reached down and quickly loosened the straps as she set down her bag, so she could slip her feet out and wiggle her cramped toes.  _AH.....that feels heavenly._  
  
“It’s a different view of Saint Paul’s than what we had last week.  Think of it as seeing it from all angles,” said Benedict as he pointed across to the various apartment blocks.  “You probably can see your flat from here.”  
  
 _Damn, I’ve got a pebble or something in my boot. Fucking thing is between my toes.  I’ve got to get it out before it drives me mad_ , thought Benedict impatiently as he tried to shift his foot in his boot.  
  
Donna carefully studied the skyline.  “Yes, there it is!  To the right of the Millenium Bridge.  Its the building that juts out a bit.  It almost looks like a triangle.”   
  
Benedict carefully shook his foot under the table and felt the pebble move away from his toes only to get stuck under his heel.  _Bastard._  
  
Donna removed a tiny plastic bottle of yellow hand sanitizer from her bag. “Care for a squirt?” she asked Benedict.  “It’s just as effective as washing your hands.”  
  
 _Great idea_ , he thought.  _She certainly is prepared for anything and everything._  
  
“Please.”  He held out his hand and Donna squirted out a small dollop.  
  
Benedict sniffed as he rubbed it over his hands.  “It smells like buttered popcorn.”  
  
“You have a good nose.”  
  
“I worked in a perfumery while saving up for my gap year trip,” Benedict said proudly.  “I’m fairly accurate at identifying scents.”  
  
They took a few minutes to study and discuss the menu while waiting for their server, who was chatting at the serving station.  The man finally strolled over once his conversation was over.  He was very tall and thin with white-blond hair and a pale complexion.  His solemn expression reminded Benedict of a cadaver.  
  
“Good evening.  I’m Fredrick. I’ll be your server tonight.  Water?” he asked in a low monotone.  He stared out into space as if he were bored.  
  
“Yes, please,” replied Donna.  
  
“Still or sparkling, Miss?”  
  
“Still.”  
  
“I’ll have....” began Benedict.  
  
With that he was gone before Benedict could finish his sentence.  
  
“Good thing I didn’t want sparkling,” he mused.  
  
“He probably thought we drank the same kind. Shush, he’s coming back!”  
  
The server placed a glass of water in front of Donna.  
  
“Have you decided on drinks?” Fredrick asked in the same monotone.  
  
“I’ll have a _Tough Nut to Crack_ ,” Donna said with a slight titter. “Cute name for a drink.”  
  
“Excellent choice, Miss.”  The corners of his mouth turned up ever-so-slightly.  
  
“I’ll have a gin and tonic with lime and lemon,” replied Benedict.  “And some still water, too, please.”  
  
Fredrick glanced down at Benedict and sighed as if he had made an excessive demand.  Then he sauntered away as if he had all the time in the world.  
  
Benedict leaned closer to Donna.  “Was it something I said?”  
  
“Perhaps he didn’t care for your choice of drinks.  He clearly approved of mine,” she replied in a teasing tone.  “He even cracked a smile at me.  Didn’t you see?”  She imitated the server’s poor attempt at a smile.  
  
“That wasn’t a smile.  He probably had gas. I feel as if I were bothering him.”  
  
They chatted about the view for a few more minutes until Fredrick returned with their cocktails.  Benedict noted that his gin and tonic came with only a slice of lime.  However, his glass of water had a slice of lemon in it.   
  
 _I guess he doesn’t approve of lemon in gin and tonics._  
  
Benedict extracted the lemon slice from his water glass with a fork and put it in his gin and tonic.  He looked up at the server and smiled thinly.  
  
“Now, there’s no need for you to go back and get me lemon.”  
  
 _My goodness... he has a bit of a bitchy side,_ thought Donna.  _Interesting, but not unwarranted given the situation._  
   
“My apologies, Sir. Are you ready to order?”  
  
“Yeah, I think we are,” Benedict replied and Donna nodded her agreement.  
  
“What can I get for you, Miss?”  
  
“I’ll have the scallops to start and the walnut gnocchi for my entree.”  
  
“Very good choices.”  
  
He looked at Benedict.  “Sir?”  
  
“I’ll have the soup for my starter and the duck for my main.”  
  
Benedict noted a barely perceptible crease in Fredrick’s brow.  
  
 _Seems he doesn’t approve of my choice of food or drink._  
  
“Will you be having wine, Sir?”   
  
Benedict raised an eyebrow questioningly at Donna.  “Fancy some wine?”  
  
“Yes, whatever you’re having is fine with me.”  
  
Fredrick looked down at Benedict expectantly.  “Sir?”  
  
 _Shit!  I don’t know that much about wine.  I bet she knows more than I do.  He’s smirking at me.  He knows that I don’t know which wine to order._  
  
Benedict picked up the wine list and pondered it again.  He rubbed the back of his neck.  
  
 _For fuck’s sake!  There are so many to choose from!  I guess a red would go with both dishes.  Champagne would be safe and festive....but Donna might think it was over-the-top for a date.  However, it would show her that I think she’s special._  
  
The server’s sigh was barely audible as he shifted from one foot to the other.  
  
 _The motherfucker’s getting impatient.  Maybe white would be the best choice.  Everyone seems to like white.  No, on second thought, I think the red.  I wish the bastard wouldn’t stare at me like that._  
  
“Shall I come back, Sir?”  There was the tiniest touch of amusement in Fredrick's voice.  
  
Suddenly, Benedict remembered his conversation with his agent at the May Fair.  He handed the wine list back to the server and smiled smugly.  
  
“I’m _really_ having a tough time choosing between the reds.  Which do you recommend?”  
  
Fredrick puffed up a bit and smiled ingratiatingly at Benedict.  
  
“May I heartily recommend the Moulin-à-Vent 2007 from Beaujolais, France, Sir. It comes from the Domaine Richard Rottiers vintners. I’d like to add that 2007 was a particularly good year for Beaujolais.”  
  
 _Oh, the bastard is really enjoying this.  He knows I don’t know shit about vintages._  
  
“That was a good year for a Beaujolais,” agreed Donna enthusiastically. “I’ll try a glass of that.”  
  
Fredrick looked at Benedict questioningly.  
  
“Likewise, please.”  
  
 _I must remember to thank John for the tip.  He saved my arse. Maybe if this works out, Donna can teach me about wine._  
  
“I’ll put your orders in right away, Sir.”  Fredrick said in the same monotone and wandered off in the direction of the kitchen.  
  
“Christ, he sure is the opposite of our server from last week,” commented Benedict dryly.  “She was stuck in top gear, and he’s stuck on idle.”  
  
“He’s probably just a very low key person,” observed Donna.  
  
“Well, compared to the one we had last week, he’s practically dead.”  
  
“I think you’re jealous that he likes my choices better.”  
  
“He has all the charm of a cadaver. I feel like Lurch is serving us.”  
  
Donna burst out laughing. “Stop that! You really are an evil man, Benedict!”  
  
“I try not to be.  Really I do.”  
  
Donna smirked at him.  “Sorry, you can’t convince me after last week.  You are positively wicked, and I love it.”  
  
“Part of my problem is that I just say whatever pops into my head.  I need to stop and think sometimes rather than just blurt out something that’s going to get me in trouble.”  He glanced at Donna from under his eyes.  
  
“Join the club.  I tend to do the same thing.  My mother used to tell me to take a deep breath and count to five before I open my mouth.”  
  
“I thought the saying is to count to ten.”  
  
“That applies to holding your temper.”   
  
“I see.  Christ, we really are so much alike it’s scary.”  
  
Donna pursed her lips and cocked her head at him.  “Is that a bad thing?”  
  
“Not at all.”  
  
Donna held up her glass to admire the deep maroon color of her drink, which was a mixture of cherry liqueur, amaretto and apple juice.  “This looks and smells wonderful!”  
  
Benedict picked up his gin and tonic.  
  
“Fredrick didn’t want you to have lemon,” she teased.   
  
“I think that’s obvious. However, he technically did bring me the lemon, albeit in my water.”  
  
They both laughed and looked into each others eyes.  
  
 _He has such beautiful eyes.  They look green in this lighting._

  
 _I like the way the gold in her eyes sparkles with she smiles._  
  
Benedict held up his glass to her.  
  
“To beginnings.”  
  
“To beginnings.”  
  
As they were about to clink glasses, a young couple walked up and addressed them in Spanish while pointing excitedly at the cathedral. Benedict looked quizzically at Donna.  
  
“I haven’t a clue as to what they’re saying, but I’d guess it has something to do with St. Paul’s.”  
  
“My high school Spanish is rusty, but I’m pretty sure they want to take a photo of the cathedral,” said Donna.  “I don’t mind, if you don’t.”  
  
Benedict set down his glass. “It’s fine with me.”  
  
Donna nodded their assent and spoke a few words of Spanish to them.  
  
The couple squeezed in front of the table and took turns taking at least a dozen photos while Donna and Benedict attempted in vain to continue their conversation.  The man was having a hard time with his camera.  Benedict was about to intervene when Fredrick suddenly appeared, took the photos and politely asked the couple to leave.  He shook his head at Donna and Benedict.

“Some nights are worse than others.  Just chase them away.”  
  
Donna and Benedict exchanged worried looks after the server was out of earshot.   
  
“Has this happened to you before?” Donna asked with concern.  
  
“No, but I always ask for a corner window table because it’s more private. The hostess probably thought she was being nice by seating us here because it’s a prime location – not only for the view but apparently for taking photos.”  
  
Donna observed that the couple sitting two tables away from them were having the same problem with a group of French tourists.  They appeared as distressed with the situation as she and Benedict must have looked.  
  
“Have you ever been to Walt Disney World, Benedict?”  
  
“We went when I was ten. British Airways had a special holiday package that my parents couldn’t resist,” he replied. “I was thrilled because we got to stay in the hotel that the monorail passed through.”  
  
“Did you go to the Living Seas Pavilion at Epcot and eat at the Coral Reef restaurant?”  
  
Benedict ran his hand through his hair and thought for a moment.  “I remember finding the aquarium fascinating. We didn’t eat there. I never would have sat still that long for table service when there was so much to see and do.  Why do you ask?  Would you prefer to go there?  It’s a bit late to change our dinner plans,” he teased in effort to lighten up the situation.  
  
Donna laughed, then sighed.  “Not at all. Tonight reminds me of whenever my family ate at the Coral Reef. The dining room has these massive picture windows, so you can see into the aquarium while you eat.”  
  
“Sounds like a beautiful setting,” commented Benedict.  "And a great way to keep kids occupied while they eat."  
  
“It is, and my parents always arranged for a table up against the windows so we would be entertained while they had a quiet meal. Then people who weren’t sitting by the windows got the idea to send their kids down to do pretty much the same thing that is happening here tonight.”  
  
“Christ.  Even at Disney World,” sighed Benedict shaking his head.  “How did your father handle it?”  
  
“He chased them away, and he wasn’t nice about it either,” Donna snickered.  
  
 _I can’t tell him that he made such a scene, we wanted to crawl under the table.  Dad takes shit from no one and isn’t quiet about it._  
  
“Now, on the other hand, my mom would simply send for the manager and have them handle it.”  
  
 _Because Mom doesn’t want to be bothered with anything on vacation.  She wants and expects to be catered to completely. Her motto is nothing or no one will come between her family and a perfect vacation experience.  We got alot of complimentary desserts and meals thanks to that attitude. Soooo embarrassing ._  
  
“Your mother sounds more like me,” observed Benedict.  “I don’t like scenes.”  
  
 _Please!  You are nothing like my mother – and thank heaven for that or I wouldn’t be sitting here with you!  I used to cringe at those words ‘get the manager please’._  
  
“Then one day my parents realized we could sit on the next level in a cozy booth with all of us facing the window and still enjoy the fish without the pesky tourists.”  
  
Benedict glanced behind him. “Unfortunately, there is nothing like that here.  We can always leave.  There’s a more casual cafe downstairs.  Would you prefer to go there?  I don’t want the evening ruined.”  
  
Donna took his hand in hers. “If you think we should leave, I have no problem with that.  The most important thing is that we are together and enjoying each other’s company.”  
  
 _I’m not going to make that decision.  Even though I want to impress her, I think she needs to be in a setting that makes her comfortable._  
  
“What do you want to do, Donna?”  
  
 _Oh, he wants me to make the decision. He’s worried that I’m not having a good time. His parents brought him up to be a gentleman.  If I don’t answer him, we’ll go back and forth all night I suspect._  
  
Donna was still holding his hand.  “I really like the ambiance up here, I’m looking forward to the food, and I even like Fredrick.”  
  
Benedict grimaced and pulled his hand away with a mock pout.  “Fredrick?  Now, I think I’m starting to get a bit jealous.”  
  
Donna smiled and winked at him.  “I assure you that you have nothing to be jealous about.  I only have eyes for you.”  
  
 _And she’s going to melt me into a puddle of jelly right here...I love to be romanced by a woman._  
  
“You’re a fan of the old standards. Yes?”  
  
Donna held up her hand to indicate the speaker in the ceiling.  “I have to give credit to the Tate’s choice of background music.  Listen....”  
  
Benedict paused.  He could barely hear the song over the din of the restaurant, which was ‘I Only Have Eyes for You’:   
  
 **Are the stars out tonight?**  
 **I don't know if it's cloudy or bright**  
 **'Cause I only have eyes for you, dear**  
 **The moon may be high**  
 **But I can't see a thing in the sky**  
 **'Cause I only have eyes for you.**

  
  
“You were cheating, Miss Saint James.”  
  
“I was inspired, Mr. Cumberbatch.”

  
  
 **I don't know if we're in a garden**  
 **Or on a crowded avenue**

**You are here, so am I**  
 **Maybe millions of people go by**  
 **But they all disappear from view**  
 **And I only have eyes for you**  
  
  
 Benedict cleared his throat.  “Does this mean you want to take your chances and stay here?”  
  
“As long as Fredrick remains our server.”  
  
Benedict sat back and snorted.  “Donna, you are absolutely charming the trousers off me.”  
  
“Isn’t the expression, charming the pants off me?”  
  
Benedict covered his mouth and kept laughing.  “Ummm...nope. You’re in the UK.  Pants are what we call underwear. Trousers are what you call pants.”  
  
 _And if you said the word, I’d drop both for you. If she only knew how fucking horny she’s making me._  
  
Donna’s face flushed.  “Yikes...I didn’t mean that!”  She covered her mouth and giggled.  “Oh my, I need to get a book on the differences in our expressions.”  
  
“Now, _that_ is a paramount idea!” Benedict finally got his laughter under control.  “So where were we before we were interrupted by those cheeky tourists?”  
  
“We were making a toast to beginnings and about to touch glasses.”  
  
Benedict nodded and raised his glass to Donna. 

"To beginnings. Cheers."  
  
"To beginnings. Cin cin," said Donna clinking her glass against Benedict's.  
  
They took a sip of their drinks and exchanged shy smiles.  
  
Benedict absently circled the rim of his glass with his index finger.

"You’re Italian then?"  
  
"Mostly,” replied Donna.  “My dad's half English and half Italian.  My mom's Italian. Both American-born. What about you?  You recognized the toast."  
  
"My mum's sister lives in Italy with her boyfriend, so we visit often. My parents are English, though there may be some German on my Dad's side as well. He never was able to definitely find out.  How’s your drink?"   
  
“It’s one of the best concoctions I’ve ever had. Would you care to taste it?”  
  
Benedict regarded the glass. She was holding it out for him to take a sip. _The hell with germs!  I suspect we may be sharing more than saliva eventually._ He leaned over, took a sip and smacked his lips.  “That’s really delicious!”  
  
Benedict laughed to himself as he noticed Donna had managed to turn the glass; so she was drinking from the other side where his lips had not touched.  _I shouldn’t laugh because I would have done the same._  
  
Fredrick soon returned with their starters.  Donna had seared scallops with cauliflower, bacon and a touch of saffron.  Benedict had the parsnip and pear soup with pistachio crumble.  After a couple of bites, Donna realized that Benedict was watching her closely.  
  
“Is everything alright with yours, Benedict?”  
  
“Yes, it’s very good.  I was just wondering if you approach meals like a critic when you’re not working?”  
  
“I try not to, but it’s very hard.  I automatically start to rate all the components of the dish.  If I were actually doing a review, I would write that these scallops are perfectly cooked and absolutely recommend this dish to my readers.”  
  
All of a sudden they heard a loud voice bellow from behind them.   
  
“Just stand over there, Becca; and I’ll come ‘round the other side,” instructed a very tall, very heavy, sandy-haired man with an American accent.   
  
A young red-headed woman, who had to be Becca, gave Donna a half-smile as she squeezed past so she could get right up close to the window.   
  
“We’ll only be a moment.  My husband and I are on our honeymoon and would love a picture of the view.”    
  
The husband loomed over Benedict, who was blocking his way.  “I can’t quite get past you.  If you wouldn’t mind getting up and moving a bit so we can take our picture; we’ll let you get back to your meal.”  
  
Benedict put down his napkin and got up so the man could pass him.  The couple tried to take a selfie, but the photo didn’t come out as they had envisioned.  They did it again to no avail. Finally, the husband held out the camera towards Benedict.  “Being you’re just standing there....would you mind?”  
  
“Oh, no.  Not at all.  Good thing I like cold soup,” Benedict muttered, voice dripping with sarcasm.  “Smile on the count of one-two and three.”  He snapped the photo and showed Donna the result.  “What do you think?”  
  
The photo looked washed out due to the sun that was beginning to set in the background. There was a reflection of Donna eating her scallops with gusto in the foreground and Benedict standing beside her, holding the camera.   
  
“What an interesting style you have,” Donna remarked. “It looks like something they would hang in here.”  
  
Becca peered over Donna’s shoulder and made a face. “Oh, that’s not very good.”  She poked Benedict’s arm. “Can you do it again?”  She rolled her eyes at her husband and pointed to Donna and Benedict. “They’re in our picture.”  
  
Benedict sighed, his patience was beginning to wear thin.  “The lighting at this time of day doesn’t lend itself to clear photos unless your camera has certain lighting adjustments that yours doesn’t seem to have.”

 _Cheap disposable camera - what in the hell do they expect?_   _Vogue-quality photos?_  
  
“Well, maybe if you both got up and stood over there, we can get a better shot,” suggested the husband, pointing across the room.   “Then we won’t have to worry about either of you ruining the photo.”  
  
Benedict handed the camera back to Becca.  “No, we can’t.  In case you haven't noticed, we’re trying to have a date here.  I’m not here to act as your photographer,” Benedict fumed.   
  
 _Last week we had flying food, this week we’re battling tourists,_ thought Donna. _Never a dull moment when we're together._  
  
Benedict and the husband stared at each other.  Neither was moving, and Donna was beginning to get worried.  She slid on her shoes, sidled up to Benedict, tugged his sleeve and whispered in his ear.   
  
“Maybe I can go find Fredrick to take their picture...”  
  
“Absolutely not,” said Benedict, indicating that she should sit back down.  Donna sat and said nothing even though she wanted to tell the couple off in the worst way.  Benedict patted her shoulder and  turned his attention back to the husband.  “I’m sorry, but could you please leave us to enjoy our starters before they get cold.”  
  
The couple looked taken aback, then exchanged shrugs and squeezed past Benedict and Donna.   
  
“So much for _friendly_ Londoners,” scoffed Becca, loud enough for Benedict, Donna and the rest of the dining room to hear. Everyone was looking over to see what had transpired.  
  
Fredrick came over and offered to reheat their starters, as Donna took the opportunity to slip her shoes off again.  He shook his head at Benedict.  
  
“I wasn't joking, Sir, when I told you to chase them away before they have a chance to get between you and the window.  Once they do that, they won’t budge until they’re done.”   
  
Benedict sighed and nodded.  Once Fredrick had gone, he placed his napkin back on his lap and took a swallow of his drink.  “I’m really sorry about this, Donna.  I feel just awful.”  
  
“It’s not your fault.  I’m impressed as hell that you were able to control your temper this long.  I don’t think I would’ve been able to.”   
  
“That’s because I’ve had plenty of practice dealing with my mother,” said Benedict sarcastically.  He immediately regretted uttering  the words as soon as they left his mouth.  
  
 _Why did you have to tell her that?  Now, she’ll think Mum is an awful person._  
  
 _Hmmm...do I detect a domineering mother here?_ Thought Donna as she sipped her drink. She studied Benedict over the rim of the glass.  He looked uncomfortable.  
  
Benedict rubbed the back of his neck. “What I meant to say is that she can be a bit.... _strong-willed_ at times.”  
  
 _He means she’s a pushy broad.  I have my share of experience with my own strong-willed mother.  I don’t know if I can deal with two._  
  
“We get along famously, really, we do.  Just sometimes we have spirited debates...”  
  
 _She knows all his pressure points and exactly which buttons to push._  
  
Benedict rubbed his thigh and noticed Donna had frowned slightly.  He took a sip of his drink while he thought of something else to say.  
  
“You know, it’s the usual parent-adult child issues.  Everybody has them,” he laughed nervously.  
  
 _There’s a bone of contention between them.  I wonder what it is? I need to hear more about the Owl Lady._  
  
Donna’s train of thought was interrupted by the return of Fredrick with their starters.  He wagged his finger at Benedict.  
  
“Don’t be afraid to chase them away,” he admonished Benedict again.  “You must do it before they try and wedge themselves in.”

Donna whispered, "They should have signs that say:  Don't Bother Diners Seated at Window Tables."

"Or you'll be tossed out on your arse," finished Benedict.  

They both started laughing. "We'd better eat these before someone elses decides the have to have a photo of Saint Paul's," said Donna as she picked up her fork.  
  
Luckily, Donna and Benedict were able to eat their starters without being bothered.  Fredrick cleared the table and promised to return with their mains shortly.  The conversation flowed easily between them, and Donna found her thoughts returning to Benedict’s mother.   
  
 _I really want to know more about  the Cumberbatches._  
  
“So, tell me about your family, Benedict,” prodded Donna gently.  
  
“Well, my parents are absolutely wonderful, and I love them to bits.  I’m an only child, so they loved the fucking life out of me. They made me feel confident about the world.... Not entitled.... Just like I could step into it and investigate it. They have been totally supportive of me and whatever decisions I’ve made. I value their unconditional love...I’ve always felt very loved and protected...secure.”  
  
“It’s refreshing to hear a man speak so warmly and lovingly of his parents. They sound like very special people, Benedict.” Donna said as she drank some water.  Then she frowned slightly.  “However, I’m confused about one thing.  You just said you’re an only child, yet you said I saw your sister at the bus stop.”  
  
Benedict laughed lightly. “Technically, Tracy is my half-sister from my mum’s first marriage.  I’m the only child from her second marriage. Tracy was seventeen when I was born, so she was already out of the house.”  
  
“That’s a big gap.  Are you two close?”  
  
“Yes and no.  She’s very busy with her job and family; so I don’t see that much of her.  I’m actually closer to her daughters because they’re only a little younger than I am.”  
  
“Are your parents retired?”  
  
“Semi-retired is a better description.  They’re still working.”  
  
“May I ask what they do?”  
  
“They’re actors.”  
  
 _Actors?  The whole family? Like the Douglases or the Baldwins?  I’ve never heard of any Cumberbatches._  
  
“How interesting! A family acting dynasty! I bet they were so excited when you followed in their footsteps.”

 _Not excited in the way you're thinking.   Dad almost had a stroke and Mum kept insisting that I had to be a barrister._   _It was almost as bad as the night I cocked-up the Mini Cooper's gear shift._  
  
Benedict took a sip of his drink and shook his head.  “Not really.  They sent me to public school so I could become a barrister.  The last thing they wanted me to be was an actor."

 _Public school .  I believe that's a fancy and expensive private prep school_ ,thought Donna. 

"Why is that, Benedict?"

"Frankly, acting isn’t the most secure of professions.  You never know when or where your next paycheck is coming from.  The hours also aren’t conducive to an active social life. Right now I'm in between jobs; so it's relatively easy for us to go out.  However, you'll notice the difference in my availability once I start working again.”

 _That was a nice way of his warning me of what's to come should we keep seeing each other._  
  
“Do your parents do movies or are they stage actors?”  
  
“They do it all – film, stage, telly, radio.  They have always referred to themselves as ‘jobbing actors’ because they took whatever work they could get to save up to afford me a public school education.  My Gran also contributed, so I was able to go to Harrow, which is an all-male boarding school.  My parents tried very hard to steer me away from acting, but as you can see, it didn’t work.”

 _Whoa!  Harrow!  That's very impressive._  
  
“Were your parents in anything I would have seen?”

 _And Mum and Dad call me Barrister Ben...she certainly asks alot of questions...just like me._  
  
Benedict thought for a moment.  “I doubt it. They have appeared primarily in British productions.  Neither of them is what you would consider famous, though they are highly respected actors here.  Luckily, they were able to maintain a decent standard of living doing what they loved.”  
  
Donna crossed her legs and rested her stocking-clad foot on Benedict’s leg just above his boot.  He suddenly straightened up with a surprised look.  
  
 _Oh shit! That was his leg.  He’s really going to think I’m flirting with him._  
  
 _Was that her bare foot I just felt?  This one is quite the cheeky little tease...and I think I am loving this._ _Maybe I should rub my foot against her leg._  
  
Benedict stared at Donna, uncertain how to react, when he realized there was a boy of no more than ten years old standing beside him expectantly. The boy looked nervous and was holding a camera.  
  
 _Well I sure as hell know he’s not waiting for a  photo of me!_ _Like anyone would want one - that'll be the day._  
  
“Do you want to ask me something?” Benedict inquired, trying to be as pleasant as possible, knowing in his heart what the child wanted.  
  
 _This man is a saint.  I really admire his ability to control his temper,_ thought Donna.  _I should strive to be more like him._  
  
“Um, excuse me, but can I please just take a photo for my class project?  If not, it’s okay.”  
  
Donna turned to see the boy’s family lined up behind them, smiling encouragingly at him.  She patted Benedict’s arm.  “Oh, why not?  Everyone else has.  At least he’s being polite about it.”  
  
Benedict smiled and nodded at the boy. “Go ahead.”  
  
 _And this will give me a chance to get that pebble out of my boot._  
  
Benedict surreptitiously unzipped his boot and eased his foot out of it while Donna was chatting with the boy’s mother, who was starting to encroach upon their space.  He leaned down and shook the tiny stone out.  
  
 _Almost done.  Now, to get it back on before she has a chance to see my sock._  
  
When he looked up, the whole family had somehow gathered in front of the window, as Donna snapped their picture.  She held out the camera for him to view the photo.  Benedict quickly straightened up, looked at the photo and nodded his approval.  The family thanked them several times and left.  
  
“I do admire your self-control, Benedict,” said Donna.   
  
“What self-control? I was screaming inside,” he half-joked.  
  
Suddenly, Fredrick appeared.  This time he was actually smiling.  
  
“Excuse me, Sir; but….,” he began.  
  
“I know.  Chase them away.  We just don’t have the heart to do it,” sighed Benedict miserably.   
  
“I wanted to let you know that your mains are ready to be served.  If you two will just follow me,” Fredrick gestured to the right with his hand. "Glenny will bring your drinks."  
  
Benedict and Donna looked in the direction that the server had pointed to see that there was a vacant table for two that had been set up in the corner in front of the window.   
  
“I can't thank you enough, Fredrick,” said Benedict as he fumbled with his boot.  “I really appreciate it.”

 _He definitely gets an extra twenty quid for this...Christ, I need to get this fucking boot on before she sees…_  
  
Donna slid her shoes back on and bent down to fasten the straps.  To her joy, she found herself with a birds eye view of Benedict’s foot, which was clad in a light pink sock with red hearts and little purple owls dressed as cupids.  
  
“Oh my God!” She gasped in delight.  _More owls!  I had only dared to hope; but this is just too good to be true!  He must have them for all holidays!  This really is too funny!_  
  
Benedict leaned down, crammed his foot into the boot and zipped it up as fast as he could, but it was too late.  He knew from the gasp that Donna had already seen his sock.  
  
 _I must make it a point to buy more black socks tomorrow._  
  
Donna Saint James was grinning from ear-to-ear as Benedict Cumberbatch sheepishly followed her to their new table.  
  


 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I first saw the outfit Benedict wears for his first date on the “What are you Wearing Benedict?” tumblr. 
> 
> 2\. The scenarios of the tourists bothering Benedict and Donna are based on what I actually witnessed when dining at the Tate Modern. At first, we were disappointed that we didn’t get a window table. However, as the meal progressed we watched in horror as those with the center window tables were constantly bothered by people taking photos. Alot of time people wouldn’t even ask – they would just squeeze in front of the tables. We were thankful to be seated where we were – and we still had a great view. The servers had to keep chasing the tourists away. 
> 
> 3\. The description of what goes on at the Coral Reef Restaurant at Epcot is based on experiences I have had with my family. Lesson learned. Sit on the tier above. 
> 
> 4\. Benedict’s description of his parents was partially taken from one of Caitlin Moran’s interviews.
> 
> 5\. Lurch is the butler in the Addams Family TV Show/Movies.


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all: A big thank you to all my lovely readers for taking time to leave kudos and comments! It truly makes my day :-)
> 
> Donna and Benedict’s first date continues with the discussion turning a bit serious with the harbinger of things to come. Meanwhile, Wanda’s attempt to do some ‘work’ is foiled by an unsuspecting Timothy.

 

Benedict Cumberbatch and Donna Saint James got settled in at their new table as Fredrick brought their mains. Another server had brought their wine and water glasses.

“For Miss, ricotta gnocchi with Swiss chard, roasted mushrooms, tomatoes, toasted walnuts and shaved parmigiano reggiano,” announced Fredrick as he placed the steaming dish before Donna with a flourish.

“Thank you. This looks fabulous,” she said, inhaling the delightful aroma.

“Sir, your pan fried duck breast, braised baby onions, parsnip and Swede. Is there anything else I can get for you?” Fredrick asked as he placed Benedict’s plate in front of him.

“I think we’re fine. Unless you need more water Donna?”

She looked up at Benedict with a start. There was a twinkle in his eye. “I’ve got plenty.”

Once Fredrick was out of earshot, Benedict grinned at her.

“Sorry, I couldn’t resist.”

“Naughty man. Let’s just hope your duck doesn’t fly away.”

“I promise I’ll do my best to keep it under control.”

“Mmmm...this is delicious,” said Donna. “How’s yours?”

“Excellent. I’ve had this before.”

They both ate in silence for a couple of minutes.

“Tell me about your family, Donna. I know you have a sister here in London.”

“My sister is living here for a year. As you know, she designs restaurant interiors. We’re also partners in a small scale catering business, called Carldonn Creative Catering in Paternoster Square."

"How nice that you have family here! Is she older or younger than you?"

Donna laughed and put her fork down.

"Neither. We're twins."

She took out her cellphone and showed Benedict a snapshot of herself with a pretty girl, who was taller than Donna and had a mane of long blonde curls and dark blue eyes.

"This is Carla. We're fraternal twins, not identical. Twins run in our family. I'm hoping that when my time comes to start a family, I have twins, too. I love being a twin. It's such a unique relationship."

_She wants to have children! Now I don’t have to ask. And twins run in her family.! Wouldn’t it be wonderful to have twins if things were to work out between us. I'd be so over the moon._

"Do you have any other siblings?"

"An older brother, Kenneth." Donna scrolled to another photograph. "Here he is with his wife, Scarlett, and their twin daughters, Melanie and Melissa - they're identical."

_The twins didn’t skip a generation! The odds are fairly good that if we had children, we might have twins. Benedict, you’re getting ahead of yourself. Calm down._

"Tell me about your parents."

Benedict noted that she hesitated for a moment, then she scrolled to another photo. It showed a handsome couple in their mid-50's. They were much younger than Wanda and Timothy. The mother looked as if she could be Donna's older sister.

"These are my parents. Mom's an attorney - her specialty is entertainment law. Kenny and Scarlett are junior partners in her firm."

_Entertainment lawyers! If things worked out that could prove to be helpful if I had work in the States._

"What does your father do?"

"He’s just been promoted to Arts and Leisure Editor for the New York Times," Donna replied proudly.

“So you followed in his footsteps as a journalist. Your parents must be over the moon."

Donna smirked. “My dad was thrilled when I got my master’s in Journalism. My mother was hoping I’d become a lawyer.”

Benedict laughed. “Another thing we have in common. Parents who wanted us to be lawyers."

“And we both wound up pursuing our dream jobs.”

"Is your sister single?"

"No. Carly's married," replied Donna scrolling to yet another photo. "No kids yet," she added.

The photo showed her sister with a handsome man with wavy dark brown hair and wire-rimmed glasses. "My brother-in-law, Steven." said Donna, as she ate a forkful of gnocchi.

"What does he do?"

"He's a doctor."

"General surgery?"

"Steven just completed his residency at New York Presbyterian. His specialty is orthopedics. As a matter of fact, he's here on a fellowship at UCL for a year. He's the nicest person. My parents adore him. He and Carly met while we were working at Walt Disney World in their college program. Those were good times!"

Benedict sipped his wine. "I bet that was a fun place to work."

"Some of the happiest times of my life were spent in those theme parks. My parents are vacation club owners with lots of points, so we can go whenever we want."

Benedict chuckled to himself. _Wouldn’t Mum love her. I can just hear her now: You’ve hit the jackpot, Benedict! Twins run in her family! Not only will we have access to free legal and medical advice, but discounted Disney vacations as well! She’s a food critic! I bet we could tag along when she does reviews. Free meals at the best restaurants in London. Food critics always go out in a group so they can try a wide variety of dishes. Fate is smiling down on you! You must marry her!_

“You seem to have a very nice family, Donna.”

_Mostly. Carly and Kenny are great. However, Mom and Dad do have their moments..._

“Do you have any pictures of your family, Benedict?”

Benedict rummaged in his trouser pocket.

“Yeah, loads.” He frowned. “Shit. I don’t have my mobile. I must have left it home when I was changing jackets.”

 

 

Donna and Benedict had finished their mains without incident and were waiting for dessert to be served. The sun had set and there were some stars twinkling in the darkened sky. The conversation had flowed easily throughout dinner as if they had known each other for a long time. Fredrick approached their table and served their desserts. Benedict had apricot & vanilla cheesecake with hazelnut crumble and lemon verbena ice cream and a macchiato. Donna had dark chocolate mousse with pistachio and white chocolate sorbet and white peony tea.

“Oh, my God...this chocolate mousse is divine...so smooth and creamy. Would you like some?” Donna asked Benedict.

His eyes lit up. “I was hoping you were going to offer. I’d love a taste.”

Donna took the extra spoon the server had left and scooped some of the mousse onto Benedict’s plate.

“How about some of the gelato?”

“I never turn sweets down, tart that I am,” he chuckled.

Donna tried to cut into the ball of gelato, but found it was frozen solid. Jeez, gelato’s not supposed to be this hard. Seems they scooped it, coated it in white chocolate and re-froze it solid. They should have taken it out of the freezer for a bit. Lucky for them I’m not working tonight. This would definitely be points off.

“It’s like a rock. There’s a frozen chocolate shell on it that I can’t break into.”

“Let me help,” offered Benedict.

He took his fork and tried to spear the gelato, but the ball flew off the plate and onto the floor where it rolled to a stop by the servers station.

“Christ! I can’t believe I did that!” blurted out Benedict as he anxiously looked around them.

The absurdity of the situation made him want to laugh in the worst way.

“You were worried about flying duck before. I bet you never considered that the gelato would be the one to grow wings.”

“Oh, no! We’re having a rerun of last week!” Donna exclaimed, covering her mouth with her hand in order to stifle the laugh that was bubbling up inside her.

Their eyes met and neither could contain their laughter any longer.

“This time I have to take the blame. I thought my fork would just sink into the fucking thing,” he tittered as he wiped a tear from his eye.

“This was nothing after last week,” she giggled. “If it makes you feel better, I really don’t think anyone noticed.”

“Take a look behind you,” instructed Benedict, leaning towards her. “We’re the talk of the dining room.”

Donna turned to see all the servers looking in their direction along with the people at the tables surrounding them.

“Oh.”

“I don’t think they get too many tables trying to bowl with their gelato balls.”

“My mother would have been appalled at us,” mused Donna.

_Then she would have sent for the manager to instruct him on how it should have been served and how lucky he was that no one was hurt or he could have had a law suit on his hands. Then we would have had free dessert._

“Mine would have been more concerned with getting a replacement,” laughed Benedict. “That’s where I get my sweet tooth from. I’ll ask Fredrick to bring you another.”

“Oh, no. It’s fine, Benedict. Really,” said Donna, touching his sleeve. “Tell you what. I’ll have a bite of your cheesecake instead.”

“It’s wicked good.” Benedict sliced his cheesecake in half and pushed it onto Donna’s plate.

“Thank you,” she said taking a bite. “This is yummy. It’s got such a rich, silky texture....mmmm.”

_Why does she make food sound so sexy? I want to take her under the table._

As if on cue, Fredrick appeared with a small dish holding another gelato ball, which he placed in front of Benedict.

“Perhaps this one will be easier to manage, Sir,” he said looking pointedly at Benedict, whose cheeks reddened.

“Shall I take another stab at it or would you like to?” asked Benedict.

Donna ate another bite of cheesecake and indicated Benedict should cut it with a wave of her fork. “Go right ahead. You did such a good job with portioning out the cheesecake, I’m willing to risk it.”

Benedict took his fork and knife and cut the ball in half fairly easily.

“Success!” he exclaimed, as he carefully balanced the gelato on his fork.

He held it up to put onto Donna’s plate. Donna picked up her plate at the same time he moved to place the gelato on it. They collided and the gelato was knocked off Benedict’s fork onto the edge of the table where it fell off, seemingly in slow motion, landing on Donna’s foot with a plop. Benedict stared under the table in disbelief.

_How in the fuck can this be happening to me? I never have accidents like this when I eat!_

“Arrggghh, that’s cold!” cried Donna, bending down to remove her shoe. “This one was much softer inside.”

She began to wipe the gelato off her foot with the napkin.

“Let me help,” said Benedict bending down and reaching for her shoe.

“There’s no need, I’ve got it,” Donna insisted as she reached for her shoe to wipe it off. “Eat your dessert, Benedict. It’ll only take me a minute.”

Benedict had beaten her to it and wiped the shoe clean with his napkin.

“Allow me,” he said as he held out the shoe for her to put her foot into it.

“That’s very sweet of you, but I can do it,” Donna insisted, trying to take the shoe from him.

“Don’t be silly, Donna. I’ve already got it,” he persisted. “Please give me your foot.”

Donna’s face reddened as she lifted her foot towards the shoe.

“Please don’t judge me.” She looked down and fiddled with her hands in her lap.

Benedict inspected her foot. Her toenails were painted in black and white cow print pattern. The large toe had a tiny black and white cow on it. The cow was quite detailed with a bell around it’s neck and eyelashes.

_Ha ha ha! And the cheeky little thing's got the motherfucking nerve to poke fun at my owl socks?_

Benedict grinned widely at Donna as he eased her foot back into the shoe and fastened the strap for her.

_He thinks I’m crazy. Why couldn’t I just have had them painted red to match my fingernails?_

“Stop smiling like that, Benedict. Your face is going to crack.”

He chuckled deeply as he straightened up in his chair.

“I think your toe art is rather cute.”

“Not anywhere near as cute as your owl socks. Now, those are beyond cute.”

Benedict rolled his eyes.

“I had to wear them because my other socks were still wet. I would have been late had I waited for the dryer to finish.”

_Late? Doesn’t he mean later than he already was? Does this man realize he was already half an hour late? He had no other socks? He obviously does his laundry when he runs out of clothes._

“Shit. I don’t know what to say, Benedict...you with your owls and me with my cows.”

“Hmmm...how about together we have a barnyard?” he quipped.

“I’m so embarrassed. I really happen to like cows. I’ve always liked them. I know it’s a bit weird.”

“I’m not one to judge. I have a mother who likes barn owls for fuck’s sake!”

Their eyes met across the table. Both of them wanted to laugh in the worst way.

“Moo,” Benedict teased in a low voice. The he covered his mouth to hide his laughter.

“You are such an evil man!! Stop that!” She laughed along with him. “Okay, now that the cow’s out of the bag, so to speak, what do you like, Benedict Cumberbatch?”

He smiled and winked at her over the rim of his coffee cup. “You.”

 _My God. I could fall for this man so easily,_ thought Donna.

_I feel so over the moon right now. I want to lean over and give her a good and thorough snogging._

They finished their desserts in companionable silence, while enjoying the view.

“That was a delicious dinner,” said Donna. “Good choice, Mr. Cumberbatch.”

“Thank you. I’m very happy that our server took pity on us and changed our table.”

“That was quite a memorable experience, to say the least,” mused Donna.

“I was thinking of it more in terms of unnerving,” added Benedict.

Donna added sugar to her second cup of tea and stirred.

“It dawned on me that what we experienced must be like that for celebrities all the time when they dine out…you know, people always coming up to them for autographs and pictures. It must be very hard to deal with interruptions all the time…like you said..unnerving.”

Benedict sipped his coffee. “Well, I wouldn’t know because I’m just a jobbing actor, so you’ll never have to worry about that when you’re with me.”

“No one’s ever bothered you for autographs?”

“Not in the sense that you’re referring to. I’ve had people come around to the stage door to meet the cast after a play to get their programs signed. Sometimes they want a photo. I’m always happy to oblige them because it’s positive feedback. It’s an extraordinary feeling to know you’ve done a good job and very flattering at the same time. The only other experience I’ve had with fans would be whenever I’ve walked a red carpet at a premiere, which I haven’t done often. That’s quite different from the stage door.”

Donna rested her elbows on the table. “What is that like? I’ve only seen red carpets on TV, but I imagine it must be nerve-wracking for those walking it,” she mused.

“Absolutely! It’s such an extraordinary experience, yet it’s mind-boggling at the same time. Flash bulbs everywhere – people yelling at you to look this way or that way. Sometimes you have to do interviews with the press. The fans line both sides of the carpet. Most of the time I’m available to sign or take photos if anyone is interested. The few times I’ve done them, I find myself shaking like a leaf. I also have to turn on my mouth filter to make sure I don’t say anything I’m not supposed to. When I get nervous, I have a slight lisp that sometimes comes out, so I have to be careful. Thankfully, I have my publicist, Karon, with me most of the time, so she acts as my guide and gets me through these things. Now, after saying all that, I don’t really find the attention a bother at all. It’s always gratifying to find out your work’s appreciated, so I’m happy to do it.”

“I bet being famous like Brad Pitt or Jude Law must be very difficult to maintain any modicum of privacy,” said Donna. “I don’t know if I could live like that. I like being able to move around under the radar – so to speak.”

Benedict finished his coffee. “Perhaps one day, I’ll catch a break and find out. After all it is the goal of an actor to become well-known for his work.”

“Be careful what you wish for, Benedict. You never know what something’s really like until it happens to you.”

 

 

Timothy Carlton and Wanda Ventham had returned home from a night out with their friends at their favorite restaurant in Gloucestershire, followed by a film at the local cinema. Their closest friends, who also happened to be Benedict’s godparents, were spending the weekend with them at the cottage.

“That was a very enjoyable evening,” said Timothy as he closed the bedroom door behind him and began to undress.

“We don’t see enough of Claire and Bernard since we started spending every weekend here.”

“It was alot of fun, wasn’t it?” agreed Wanda as she turned down the bedspread. “We need to make it a point to invite them out more often. I do hope they’re comfortable in Ben’s old room.”

“As long as they don’t move, they should be fine,” chuckled Timothy as he finished buttoning his pajama top. “If we hear a thump in the middle of the night we’ll know one of them has turned over.”

He got his dressing gown from the closet and shrugged into it. “Be back in a tic. I’m going to brush my teeth and use the loo.”

As soon as Timothy left the room, Wanda opened her handbag and pulled out the copy of Benedict’s work schedule that she had made at his flat.

_This is exactly what I need to coordinate Ben’s accidental meeting with Donna! Now, I’ll be able to see what he’s doing for the next three weeks. I think I’ll go downstairs and put the information onto a spreadsheet. I can probably come up with several ways for them to meet. Then I’ll just email it to myself, so I can access it from anywhere._

The bedroom door suddenly opened to reveal Timothy. She could see Claire behind him in the hallway.

_Shit!_

Wanda hurriedly put the paper behind her back. She smiled at him.

“My, you are quick as a bunny!”

“Claire just asked me if we had a couple of spare pillows. She didn’t want to go snooping around Ben’s room.”

“There should be two pillows in the chest in front of Ben’s bed.”

Timothy left the room. Wanda could hear him talking to Claire in the hallway. She waited until she heard the water running in the bathroom.

_Now, let me see what’s on here._

Wanda unfolded the paper and studied the schedule, which was a monthly calendar, covered in Benedict’s nearly illegible handwriting.

_Bloody hell! It’s hard to believe he used to get good marks in penmanship. I’m going to need time to sort this out! No wonder he’s always late! He probably can’t decipher his own writing. What a mess this is! I can’t tell what belongs in each box. His writing overlaps all over the place._

Wanda sat quietly for a few minutes trying to make sense of the writing.

_Okay. I think I understand what belongs in each box. Should he ever become famous, he’s going to need to hire a PA to keep track of him._

Once again the door to the room suddenly opened and closed, startling Wanda. It was Timothy. He removed his dressing gown and slippers and got into the bed.

_Where did he get this sudden burst of energy from? It usually takes him a good twenty minutes to get ready for bed._

Wanda quickly stuffed the paper into the pocket of her robe. She sat before her dressing table and began to brush her hair. Timothy snuggled down under the duvet and sighed contentedly.

“I’m completely knackered. I don’t think I’ll need more than five minutes to fall asleep. Aren’t you coming to bed?”

_Good. Five minutes is excellent as I’m getting impatient to get to work._

“Oh, I’m not sleepy yet, so I think I’ll go downstairs and read for a bit,” said Wanda, putting down the brush and heading for the door.

“There’s no need for you to go downstairs, pet. You can keep the light on your side on. I don’t mind.”

_What in blazes? I need to use the laptop, which is downstairs.._

Wanda huffed. “Then why do you get stropy whenever I try to read in bed and you want to go to sleep?”

“I don’t. You must be sleeping with another man.”

_Damn! Why does he suddenly want me to stay?_

“Don’t be silly, Tim. I’ll only keep you up. It’s not fair to you,” Wanda said, stifling a yawn.

“See, you are as knackered as I am! Stop being stubborn and lets have a cuddle.” He patted the mattress next to him.

_Jesus! I want to work on that spreadsheet, but he’s not going to take no for an answer. I’ll just get in bed and as soon as he falls asleep, I’ll quietly slip out._

Wanda took off her robe, tossed it on the foot of their bed and climbed in beside Timothy. He wrapped his arms around her, and they shared a goodnight kiss. Wanda rested her head on his chest. The room was bathed in pale moonlight coming through a couple of blind slats that hadn’t completely closed. Wanda reached up and ran her hand through Timothy’s still-thick hair.

“You know, you really do look like that Greek statue since your hair’s gone almost white,” she mused. “You were such a handsome young stud then, and here you are still in your prime and as sexy as ever.”

Wanda heard Timothy chuckle and yawn beside her.

“Says you.”

“Says me.”

“Goodnight, Mrs. Robinson.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. The menu at the Tate Modern has changed since my visit, however, I had the gnocchi that Donna eats and it was exactly as described! Yum! 
> 
> 2\. I have no idea who Benedict's godparents are - Claire and Bernard are total figments of my imagination.
> 
> 3\. Thy flying gelato story is based on a real-life incident when I was having lunch with a friend. It was an absolutely mortifying experience at the time. LOL.


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Benedict and Donna’s first date ends in a wild ride. Wanda endures the cuddling-from-hell thanks to her lack of hormones.

 

Benedict Cumberbatch and Donna Saint James had wandered around the Van Gogh exhibit until it was time for the museum to close for the night.

“Fancy a ride home on my motorbike?” Benedict asked as they stood outside the museum. “The car park is just a five minute walk, but if you prefer I’d be happy to walk you home. It’s such a beautiful night either way.”

“I’ve never ridden on one; but I’m game,” Donna replied enthusiastically.

_I’ve always wanted to try riding a motorcycle. How bad can it be? I don’t want him walking back and forth across the bridge. He’s the type who wouldn’t let me walk home alone either._

Benedict felt excited by the prospect. _I like that she’s not afraid to try new things and experiences!_

“Jolly good then! The car park is just down the road,” Benedict beamed at her. “I think you’ll love it! Nothing but the rush of the wind and the stars above us. It’s almost like flying.”

_Flying? Without a nice metal tube surrounding me? Shit...I hope not. I was hoping he’d say it’s like riding a bicycle but a bit faster. More like a moped. Give it a try, Donna. You’ve been wanting to do this for a long time. It’ll probably be alot of fun._

“That was such an interesting exhibit,” said Donna as they walked along.

“That it was,” agreed Benedict. “It also served as a bit of research as I’ve been offered a role in a TV film about Van Gogh.”

Donna stopped. “Really? Who will you be playing?”

“The man himself,” replied Benedict. “I like the script, so I’m pretty sure I’m going to accept the offer.”

“I’m impressed,” said Donna. “Congratulations. When would the filming start?”

“They’re talking November/December time frame. I’ll have to be on location for a couple of weeks at least,” replied Benedict.

_I never considered that he’d be working outside the country, but I guess that’s part of the job._

They finally arrived at the car park. Benedict paid for parking, while Donna waited patiently beside him. She noticed that the attendant didn’t move to get the bike.

“Okay. It’s right over here,” said Benedict, indicating that she should follow him.

Donna stopped short and gawked at the large, black and chrome motorbike.

_My God – that’s one huge fucking machine! Donna thought. I thought it would be smaller._

“What kind is it?” she asked as she timidly approached it.

“A Honda CBF600. I just got it. It’s a real beast!” smiled Benedict as he opened the back storage compartment. “I promise you’re going to love it!”

Donna peered into the deep compartment that was attached to the back of the bike. It was filled to the brim, the space mostly taken up by two helmets.

“You sure can get alot of stuff in there,” she observed.

“Yeah. It’s quite roomy in there. Okay, I need you to wear this,” said Benedict taking off his pink jacket. He held it up so as to help her into it. Donna saw that his T-shirt was short-sleeved.

_It wouldn’t be right to wear his jacket. I’ve got a sweater on, and he only has that light T-shirt on._

“Oh, I ’m not cold at all, Benedict,” Donna protested. “My sweater is quite warm. Please keep your jacket on.”

Benedict continued to hold the jacket.

“It feels much colder on a bike than it actually is, Donna. You will appreciate it once we get going.”

“Won’t you be cold?”

“Nope. I’ll be fine.”

_I have a feeling if I don’t take it, we’ll be here debating all night._

Donna acquiesced and allowed him to help her on with the jacket. Benedict next removed a bright yellow vest with reflective tape on it from the storage compartment.

“This goes over my jacket. It will enable you to be visible in the dark.”

Donna put on the vest. The jacket was too big for her, but the vest fit perfectly. She could smell his cologne on his jacket. It was a nice, warm yet fresh spicy scent with a touch of citrus.

_It’s such a nice smell. I have to ask him what it is one day._

Benedict slipped into his own yellow vest and next pulled two helmets from the storage compartment.

“You definitely need to wear this,” he said, handing one to her. “It has a built in two-way microphone so you can talk to me. Now, give me your bag. It’s not safe to ride with it dangling off your shoulder.”

Donna reluctantly handed him her handbag. She watched as he squished it in.

_My poor faux Kate Spade bag! Even if you are a knock-off, I hope you’ll still be able to retain your shape when this is over._

“It just fits. Good thing, you didn’t bring that huge monstrosity you had last week,” he laughed as he closed and locked the compartment. “It never would have fit in here.”

_Monstrosity? How can he say such a thing? I love that bag! It may not be the real thing, but it’s still a great knock-off. It’s my daily lifeline. I’d be lost without it!_

Donna looked a bit miffed.

_Oh crumpets!  I insulted her two thousand pound Louis Vuitton bag. Shame on me. It’s still ridiculously big for someone so small. Need to watch what I say._

Benedict helped her put on the helmet and adjust the chinstrap. Then he put his on and made a couple of adjustments. Suddenly, she could hear his voice clearly in her ear.

“Can you hear me, Donna?”

“Perfectly.”

“Brilliant. Please feel free to talk to me during the ride,” he smiled at her widely. “Are you ready then?”

Donna returned the smile. “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

Suddenly, Donna had that same nervous yet excited feeling in the pit of her stomach as when she went on a roller coaster, but it was ten times worse.

_Pretend you’re going on Space Mountain. You like Space Mountain. No need to act like a wuss in front of your date, Donna. You’ll be fine._

Benedict swung his leg over the bike and straddled the seat easily. He pulled a pair of leather gloves from the vest pocket and put them on. He raised the kickstand and stood the bike fully upright. He indicated that Donna should mount it from behind him.

“Ready for you to board, Miss Saint James!” He smiled at her encouragingly.

_Oh my! It’s much taller than I thought. How in the hell do I get on it?_

“It’s like mounting a horse. Easiest from the left side,” Benedict said. “Use the footpegs and my shoulders for stability.”

_He’s kidding, right? This motherfucker is huge. I’ve never ridden a horse either. There’s not much room behind him. And I’m wearing a God damn skirt and heels._

Donna took a deep breath and was able to mount the bike with a minimum of fuss. She made sure to tuck her skirt tightly around her legs the best she could to prevent it from blowing once they started.

_This is as good as it’s going to get. Now, let me buckle my seat belt. Hmmm...I don’t see one._

“Benedict, where are the seat belts? I don’t seem to have one.”

Benedict’s deep voice rumbled through the speaker, sounding slightly amused.

“That’s because motorcycles don’t have them.”

Donna swallowed hard. “Why is that? If we’re in a crash then wouldn’t we get thrown off and into the air?” 

“Because the accident survival rate is much higher if you don’t wear one. A motorcycle is a single-track vehicle with two wheels, which is prone to tipping over and sliding into and underneath the obstacles which it hits. It has to do with the laws of motion.”

“Oh.”

“Please don’t worry, Donna. Nothing’s going to happen. We’ll actually be traveling at pretty low speeds. Shall we get going then?”

“Okay.”

“Just a few reminders so we have a smooth ride. Keep your feet on the foot pegs at all times. Wrap your arms around my waist...yes, like that. Now, once we start moving, pull your knees in and squeeze your thighs onto the bike. Allow your body to move with mine and remember that we lean into any turns together. When we come to a stop, keep your feet on the foot pegs. Okay?”

_Sure. Only he could give a crash course in how to ride a motorcycle, and make it sound like we’re going to have sex. Where is my mind? Am I ready? Fuck, no; but it’s now or never._

“I understand. Hold on tight, squeeze my thighs, lean with you and don’t take my feet off the foot pegs."

Benedict patted her hands that were resting on his midsection. His voice was very soothing in her ears.

“It’ll be fine, Donna. Just relax and enjoy the ride. I’m a very safe driver. I’ll take good care of you. Promise.”

 _You can do this, Donna. Just relax and do what he said. You’ve ridden all kinds of roller coasters and love the adrenaline rush. This is the same thing except you can both get_ _killed.  Do you trust him or not?_ Donna swallowed hard again. _Think positively! Yes, I really do trust him._

“I'm ready, Benedict!”

Benedict turned the key and the engine roared into life. “Hold on!”

_Man, that’s loud –even with helmets! I can feel the vibration._

Benedict revved the engine and the bike began to move slowly out of the car park and onto the street. Donna felt a bit of exhilaration start to replace the anxiety.

_So far, so good. I can do this! It’s kind of fun._

Benedict guided the bike slowly along the streets, and Donna found it easy to follow his instructions. The wind chill felt pleasant in the warm spring night, and she was able to enjoy the sights.

“You’re awful quiet. How are you doing?” came Benedict’s voice through the speaker.

“I’m fine. Trying to pick out landmarks.”

“We’re just about at the bridge. If you look right, you’ll see Tower Bridge. If you look left, you’ll see the London Eye. Most of the things you’ll recognize will be to the left. Saint Paul’s is pretty much dead on.”

As they approached Southwark bridge, Donna noticed more traffic than they had encountered on their route from the car park. She could also feel the bike shift gears and begin to pick up a bit more speed. Every time Benedict quickly swerved to change lanes, she felt her stomach bottom out.

_These cars seem so big from this perspective and so close to us. If we get hit by one, we don’t stand a chance._

“You’re going faster,” Donna commented a bit nervously. She further tightened her grip around him.

“This is nothing! You’re going to feel like we’re flying in a minute! Hang on to me tight, Donna!”

Donna could hear the mounting excitement in Benedict’s voice.

_He really loves this. I think I may throw up._

All of a sudden they were picking up speed as they made their way onto and across the Southwark Bridge. The scenery sped past faster than Donna could take in. She was thankful the bridge was one lane in each direction, so they wouldn’t have to change lanes. The wind chill had also picked up substantially. Donna closed her eyes and squeezed Benedict’s midsection as tightly as she could. She thought she could feel him shivering.

“Ummm...could you loosen your grip just a bit, Donna? Please. Trust me, you are in no danger of falling off. If you do, I promise I’ll come back for you,” he chuckled.

Donna loosened her hold on Benedict ever-so-slightly, then tightened it again when they went over a bump in the road.

His voice purred in her ear. “Isn’t this extraordinary? You can see the full moon on the right.”

_Oh, I don’t know if extraordinary quite captures it. Holy Crap! This is way faster than Space Mountain! I hope it’s over soon. He can look at the moon and tell me about it later. On second thought why is he looking at the frigging moon? His eyes should be on the road!_

“Are you okay, Donna? I need you to loosen up your hold a bit. I’m having trouble breathing, ” he grunted.

“Yes...I’m still fine...I’m sorry for hugging you so tightly. It just seems like we’re going really fast...”

“We’re only going twenty five miles per hour, but it feels a lot faster than it is. It’s absolutely exhilarating! Isn’t it the best feeling ever?!”

_Space Mountain goes twenty-eight miles per hour. How can this be slower? Perception. Open your eyes and try to enjoy it._

Finally, the bike slowed down as they exited the bridge and came to a traffic light. Donna let out the breath she had been holding and loosened her grip on Benedict.

Benedict took a couple of deep breaths.  _Ah! Air! That’s better!_  

“Thank you. We’re almost there, Donna. Just a couple of more minutes,” Benedict patted her hands.

The minute the light changed, Donna once again tightened her grip on Benedict’s midsection. She heard him grunt in discomfort.

_Jesus! She’s going to crush my ribs at this rate._

Before long, Benedict had pulled the bike up in front of her building and turned the motor off. She was still holding onto him tightly.

_This feels rather nice, if only I could breathe....she can let go now._

“You can relax now. We’re at your place. Donna?” Benedict noticed she didn’t move. “Donna?”

Donna found she couldn’t move her arms or legs. All she could manage was some incoherent babbling.

“Yes! Home....that’s great. That was just like a thrill ride....it was the most chilling...I mean thrilling ...experience...almost like being on a roller coaster. It was just thrilling...and so fast. Very, very fast.”

_Bollocks! She’s frightened. Why didn’t I just walk her home and go back for the bike?_

Benedict gently removed her hands from the vice-like grip she still had around his waist.

“Relax your legs, Donna. You don’t want them to cramp,” he said softly.

Donna took a deep breath and felt her legs let go of the bike. She let her arms fall to her sides and sat still behind him.

_Oh, Benedict, you really cocked it up this time. She’ll never go near the bike again._

“You need to get off first, Donna. The same way you got on,” Benedict prodded gently.

As Donna got off the bike, her skirt slid up revealing a generous expanse of leg for Benedict to feast his eyes upon. She quickly pulled down the skirt and adjusted it.

_He’s looking at my leg in a very non-subtle way. I hope that’s all he can see._

_That is a very nice looking leg. Stop looking, Benedict. You’re making her uncomfortable. Be a gentleman._

Donna felt a wave of relief as her feet hit the pavement.

_Ah, terra firma! How I longed to be on you. Would it look weird if I got down on my knees and kissed the ground?_

Benedict put the kickstand down and got off the bike. Donna was standing there, arms hugging herself. There was no doubt that she was shaken from the experience. He quickly removed his helmet and gloves before unfastening the chinstrap of her helmet. She took off the helmet and handed it to him without saying a word. Benedict noticed her hands were shaking slightly and lay the helmets on the ground, so he could gather her in his arms.

“It wasn’t my intent to scare you, Donna. I was hoping you would like it,” he said softly as he held her close and smoothed her hair. He could smell her shampoo, which was lavender and lime-scented.

Donna allowed him to comfort her and gratefully leaned into his warm embrace. He absently stroked her hair.

_Ah, this is very nice. He’s so sweet and considerate. I could stand here all night._

“I won’t ask you to go on it again. We’ll take the tube or a cab next time,” he whispered into her ear.

Benedict’s warm, minty breath gave her goosebumps. She snuggled closer to his chest and heard the steady beating of his heart. Then Donna felt him plant a barely discernible kiss on top of her head.

_Now that it’s over, I don’t think it was really that bad. It was like the first time Dad took me on a roller coaster. I felt the same way. Then I couldn’t wait to get back on. That Benedict certainly is a good little hugger._

Donna straightened up and pulled back from Benedict’s embrace. She regarded his concerned expression as she slowly removed the vest and jacket. The fear she had felt on the bike was quickly evaporating.

“I won’t lie to you, Benedict. I was scared shit when you started across the bridge. Now, with that said, I gauge whether or not I was really scared by whether or not I want to do something again.”

“And do you?” He asked timidly as he removed the vest and put on his jacket.

“Hell, yeah! I’d love to do it again...the right way. With the right clothing and all. That way I’m prepared.”

_What a relief! She’s really okay with it and wants to do it again. That’s a good sign._

Benedict placed the extra helmet and vest in the storage compartment and locked it. He handed Donna her handbag, which luckily was no worse for it’s wild journey. The he put the vest back on over his jacket.

_None of the women I dated liked my motorbike, except this one. I’m so over-the-moon right now. I need to stop smiling – I must look like the Cheshire Cat. She’ll think I’m creepy._

Donna slung her bag over her shoulder.

_Aww...he’s so happy that I wound up enjoying the ride. I love his dimples and the way he looks like a little boy when he smiles like that._

_I wish tonight didn’t have to end, thought Benedict as they walked up the steps to her building. I want to see her again._

_I wonder if I should invite him in? Maybe not. It is only our first...second date. I had such a good time. I hope he asks me out again._

_I want to kiss her goodnight…should I kiss her on the cheek or the lips?_

_I wonder if he’s going to kiss me goodnight. Should I kiss him back?_

“You’ll have to give me the addresses of those book stores you were telling me about at dinner, Benedict. It sounds like the perfect way to spend a rainy afternoon."

_An opening to ask her out again! Seize the opportunity, Benedict!_

“I’d be happy to take you on a tour of the London bookstores tomorrow.”

_He wants to see me again!!! Yea!!! Oh, no. I have a date with James Rhodes tomorrow._

“I’d love to, but I have plans for tomorrow, Benedict.”

Donna noticed the startled expression on his face, which quickly vanished as he regained his composure.

_Plans? I wonder if she has another date? Not a big deal, Benedict. Try Sunday as an alternate._

“Are you free Sunday? It’s supposed to rain. We could browse the bookstores then go for a proper Sunday lunch…”

“Yes! That sounds like fun. What time?”

“I’ll meet you in front of the Leicester Square tube station at eleven.”

_That means anywhere from eleven-fifteen to eleven-thirty, Donna thought. Benedict time seems to be totally different from time as the rest of the world knows it._

“I had a wonderful time, Benedict. Thank you for a marvelous evening.”

He took both her hands in his and gazed into her eyes.

“As did I...best first date I’ve ever had.”

His voice was low and sounded like smooth melted chocolate. Donna’s heart skipped a beat as he slowly leaned down and gave her a gentle kiss on the lips. His lips were warm, soft and delightfully plump. He tasted like the chocolate mints they had shared in the Van Gogh exhibit. She immediately responded and kissed him back.

_Oh, Lord...he has such succulent lips...._

_Christ, I want to take her right here on the steps._

“Goodnight Benedict. See you Sunday.”

“Goodnight Donna. Sleep well.”

Benedict Cumberbatch smiled to himself as he rode his motorbike back to Hampstead. The first date had gone very well indeed.

_I’ll have to text Rhodes as soon as I get home that I’ve got a second date. I hope he’ll do as well as I did on his date tomorrow._

 

 

Wanda Ventham lay in the bed, waiting for her husband to fall asleep. They were still nestled in each other’s arms, and Wanda was beginning to feel warm from the combination of a flannel nightgown, post menopausal night sweats and her husband’s body heat. She felt a bead of perspiration form on her forehead...then another. Before long she was uncomfortably warm.

_I need to get out of this bed and soon. Damn night sweats! Why did I wear flannel tonight? Because Tim said that it’s always cooler in the country. He was wrong. And he thinks I wear all those flimsy thin strapped nighties because I’m being a flirt. I need to be cool. It’s a matter of survival!_

Wanda willed herself to remain still for a couple of more minutes. She could feel the back of her neck getting moist from sweat.

_Hell’s bells! That’s enough_

“Tim, I need you to move over. I’m getting hot,” whispered Wanda as she poked him in the side.

“You’ve always been very hot,” Timothy mumbled with a smile and reached down to pat her backside. “But I’m knackered. Maybe tomorrow we’ll have a bubble bath when Claire and Bernard go for their walk.”

_Oh, for fuck’s sake! I’m roasting like I’m on a spit, and he thinks I want to shag him._

Wanda gently picked up Timothy’s arm and rolled onto her side away from him. Unfortunately, Timothy also rolled onto his side towards her and gathered her against him in a spoon position.

_NO! I’m going to suffocate. This would have been fine thirty years ago, but not now. Now I know what it feels like to be a pig in a blanket._

Wanda lay quietly as the sweat began to soak through the high collar of her nightgown. The sweating was also beginning under her breasts and moving down her body. She felt like she was trapped in a furnace.

_OH, I hate that wet feeling. He really needs to move. If he really were that Greek God, I’d have a nice, cool marble statue to cuddle up to. I can’t stay here much longer....!_

“Tim, darling. Please roll over. I feel like I’m sleeping in a crock pot.”

“Mmmmm....Why are you making stew? I’m not at all hungry,” he mumbled in his half-asleep state.

Wanda not-so-gently moved his arm off of her.

“Now, just turn over, Tim, for fuck’s sake. My nightgown is getting sopped!”

Timothy obediently turned over onto his other side, away from her.

“No. No. I’ don’t want you to make any old slop. Stew is fine then. I’ll wait,” he murmured. “Wake me when it’s tea time.”

_AH! Relief!_

Wanda rolled onto her back and tossed the covers off of her and onto her husband.

_I’ll just wait a couple of more minutes while I cool off._

She lay still, enjoying the coolness of the room. Suddenly, Timothy rolled onto his back, tossing the covers back onto Wanda. He flung out his arm, trapping Wanda’s hair under it.

_For fuck’s sake! I can’t move without waking him._

“Call me when the stew’s done, pet,” he mumbled.

 _I’m just about medium rare now!_   Wanda thought miserably as the sweat ran down her face. She felt like her body was on fire.

Wanda resolved to wait until Timothy was in a deep sleep before trying to extract herself. She had never felt so uncomfortable.

_How long can it take him to fall asleep? Now, I’m beginning to understand why couples have separate bedrooms._

Wanda sighed with relief as Timothy turned on his side towards her, releasing her hair. Unfortunately, he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close.

“My beautiful Wanda. I love you so,” he mumbled.

“I love you, too, Tim. Goodnight, love. Sweet dreams and please go to sleep....now.”

_I’m going to buy him one of those full body pillows for Christmas and install a ceiling fan for myself._

Wanda waited patiently for the sound of Timothy’s snoring before she was able to move his arm from around her. She slid out from under the covers and sighed inwardly at the delicious cool air.

_Damn! I felt like a steamed Christmas Pudding._

She quickly put on her slippers and headed downstairs to the room they used as a library. It only took Wanda a few minutes to get the laptop set up. She went into the kitchen and poured herself a cold ginger beer over ice to sip while she tried to make sense of Benedict’s schedule.

_I think I’ll tackle the easy part first. I’ll set up the spreadsheet._

Wanda set up the spreadsheet, which she labeled ‘Ben’s Schedule’. Then she searched around the desk for the schedule.

_Bloody hell! It’s in the pocket of robe, which I left upstairs on the foot of the bed._

“Looking for this, Wanda?” asked Timothy from the doorway.  Her robe was over his arm, and he was holding up Benedict’s schedule. “I woke up to use the loo and noticed you were missing. I thought I would bring down your robe as it’s getting chilly in here.”

_Damn! I’ve really got the knack for getting caught._

Wanda sat up straight. “You searched my pockets?”

“Didn’t have to. The paper fell out and Ben’s scribble caught my eye.”

Timothy shuffled across the room in his sheepskin slippers and draped the robe over Wanda’s shoulders. Then he pulled up another chair so he could sit beside her. He leaned his elbow on the desk and cradled his chin in the palm of his hand.

“Do I want to know how this came into your possession?”

“It depends. You might want to reserve judgement until you hear what happened.”

She held out her hand for the paper, but Timothy sat back and folded his arms. Wanda noticed that he did not make a move to return the paper to her.

“Go ahead. Judgement’s being reserved for the time being.”

Wanda smiled and took a long swallow of her ginger beer. “If you recall, I was making us tea to have on Ben’s roof terrace. Well, when I got the milk, I closed the door of his fridge a bit too hard.....”

“...dislodging the magnet this paper happened to be under,” finished Timothy, shaking his head.

“Exactly!”

“Are you sure you didn’t help it to fall?”

“Absolutely! For once fate was working with me,” said Wanda with a toss of her head.

“Go on then.”

“There were quite a few papers under that magnet, and they were scattered all over the floor. I picked them up, and as I was putting them back in their place...” 

“After reading through them.....”

“Of course I was! How often do I get an opportunity to ....WAIT A MINUTE, Timothy Carlton! You’re accusing me of snooping.”

“Call it what you like, pet. Reading, snooping..and you wonder where our son gets it from. He comes by it naturally.”

“Ben was always such a curious little boy,” Wanda said defensively.

“Who has grown into a very nosy adult. Like his mum.”

“Are you quite finished?”

“Mostly. For now anyway.”

“Then I’ll continue. I couldn’t help but notice what was on the papers as I put them back up.”

Timothy rolled his eyes skeptically. “Of course you couldn’t help it.”

“I noticed the one you’re holding onto for dear life. This is just what we need. Now, we’ll know exactly where he’ll be.”

“Unless things change.”

“Well, that’s a given.”

“Ben is going to notice that his schedule is missing, Wanda. He’s not stupid. He’s going to know that you took it,” pointed out Timothy.

Wanda laughed and clapped her hands together.

“That’s where you’re wrong! I made a copy of it on his printer and put the original back under the magnet. He’ll never know.”

Timothy laughed and spread the paper out on the table. He helped himself to a swig of her ginger beer.

“Well done, you! Now, let’s get to work.”

“Bloody hell! You’re not angry?” Wanda asked in a perplexed tone of voice.

Timothy winked at her. “Of course not. Remember, I came over to the dark side of my own accord. You’re not only beautiful, but brilliant, Darth Vader!”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I know absolutely nothing about motorcycles, but I do know Space Mountain goes 28 mph. Yes, I’m a lover of all things Disney. LOL!  
> 2\. Anyone catch the R Kelly "Genius" and Jaguar commercial references?  
> 3\. I have no idea what the actual time frame was for "Van Gogh: Painted With Words" nor where it was actually filmed. If anyone knows where it was filmed, please send me a message.


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> James and Donna have their first date. Wanda and Timothy get an unhappy surprise for dessert.

 

Wanda Ventham and Timothy Carlton sat in the back of Patisserie Valerie on Marylebone High Street. The couple were having a lunch break before finishing their Saturday shopping. Wanda was munching on a toasted cheddar and tomato sandwich on granary bread. Timothy had a bowl of split pea soup with chunks of ham that came with a side of fresh bread and butter. They both were drinking hot Darjeeling tea.

“All we have left is picking up the dry cleaning and stopping at the butcher’s to pick up my order,” announced Wanda as she crossed off the tasks on her shopping list. “Then we’re free to do as we please!”

Timothy buttered a chunk of bread and sighed.

“Just in time to put everything away and get dinner started.”

“We did have alot of errands today, didn’t we?” lamented Wanda. “I thought we would have finished before lunch.”

“We fell behind looking at all those paint samples for the lounge. However, I have a suggestion that I think you’ll approve of. Why don’t we try and get a booking at the Lobster Pot and then catch a film? This way we get back some of our free afternoon and dinner is taken care of.”

Wanda smiled at him over the rim of her cup and took a sip of  tea.

“I like how you think, Mr. Cumberbatch. Now, I’ll have time for both a manicure and pedicure.”

“And I will be home in time for the cricket match on the telly. It’s a win/win for all,” laughed Timothy. “Have you decided on a color for the lounge then?”

Wanda shook her head. “I changed my mind. The wallpaper’s still good.”

“We’ve had that wallpaper since we moved in back in the seventies.”

“I know. I still really fancy it though. Maybe next year. Anyway, how about sharing a pastry?”

Timothy finished his soup and sat back in his chair.  “No need to twist my arm when it comes to sweets. Any one in particular tempting you?”

Wanda thought for a moment. “Anything as long as it’s chocolate.”

“I need to refresh my memory, so I’m going to up front to have a look at the offerings,” said Timothy, getting to his feet. “Ah! It feels good to stand up and move around. My back was getting a bit stiff.” He rubbed his lower back.

“Off you go then! Stretch that back. I want you nice and limber for later on. I promise you’ll forget all about your back.”

Timothy raised an eyebrow at her. “And why is that?”

“Because you’ll be too focused on what’s happening to your front.” She winked saucily at him.

Timothy felt himself blush at his wife’s words as he noticed the two young girls sitting at the table next to them giggle. As he passed, he heard them whisper to each other.

“Isn’t that cute? She still has the hots for him! They must be as old as my grandparents!”

“To be honest with you, I find him rather sexy. I’d love to run my hands through that thick, silver hair!”

“I know what you mean. I’d do him in a minute. I could swear I’ve seen him on the telly, but I can’t remember where.”

Timothy grinned to himself as he made his way to the front of the restaurant, feeling very chuffed about the girls comments.  There was a bit of a swagger in his step.

_You’ve still got the old Carlton magnetism, Tim! How about that?_

The text chime alert on his mobile went off as he approached the display counter. It was Wanda.

_Perhaps we should get into the habit of bringing along **your** head shots. You never know when you’re going to run into one of your groupies.  ;-p_

_Bugger off, woman! Be careful or I’ll have my way with you as soon as we get home. You won’t get past the lounge._

_The dining room table??????_

_I was thinking more in terms of the coffee table. It’s a lot lower._

_Why you delightfully cheeky man! You can count on it. xxxxxxxxx_

 

 

Wanda continued to eat her sandwich and drink her tea as Timothy headed to the front of the cafe to peruse the scrumptious-looking pastries in the display case. A few people had entered the store and had queued behind him. He was vaguely aware of a young couple standing next to him, who were also deeply engrossed with inspecting the baked goods.

_Let’s see, Wanda fancies chocolate. Perhaps one of those chocolate eclairs or a slice of the double chocolate cake. Which one shall I get? They all look good. Maybe I’ll get both. I’m sure we’ll be more than capable of finishing them._

One of the counter girls smiled at Timothy. “I’ll be right with you, Love. Trouble making up your mind?” she laughed as she boxed an order to go.

“Yes, I may be forced to take one of everything,” he said teasingly in response.

All of a sudden, Timothy felt a slight tug on his sleeve, and a familiar voice behind him said, “They’re all good; but I’d go with the double chocolate cake myself, Tim.”

Timothy turned to his right to find James Rhodes standing beside him.

 

  
Donna Saint James arrived at Patisserie Valerie promptly at one-thirty to find James Rhodes already standing outside. The handsome pianist waved and smiled warmly at her, displaying his deep dimples.

_Holy cow! He’s already here. I bet he was early. Oh, I do like that!_

“Hi James! Your directions were perfect. As you can see, I had no trouble getting here.”

“Splendid! It’s lovely to see you again, Donna! Are you ready for some of the best cake in Marylebone?”

_She’s prettier than I remember. I love that light scent she wears. I just wish my heart would slow down now so I can fucking hear myself think._

_Gosh, he does have the cutest dimples. He looks like he's thirteen when he smiles.  He's acting almost bashful today.  Maybe he's nervous.  Heck, I'm a bit nervous._

Donna laughed as James held the door open for her. “I’m always ready for cake!”

“That makes two of us,” he concurred. “I’m an absolute tart for sweets.”

Donna noted that James was dressed in new black jeans and a lightweight gray and black striped pullover jumper. His feet were clad in black trainers.

_He’s dressed nicely enough. Everything matches. I bet he’s weaning normal socks, too._

The pair entered the busy bakery cafe along with another couple and queued behind a tall, older man with wavy silver hair, who was preoccupied with the cakes in the display case. Donna was amazed by all the different varieties and found she couldn’t make up her mind.

“Everything looks good! This is going to be a tough decision. What do you recommend, James?”

James laughed and frowned slightly. “Afraid I’m not going to be much help here. I’m torn between the Double Chocolate Cake Slice and a Coffee eclair myself.”

Donna pointed to one of the cake slices. “Do you have any idea what’s in the Selva slice?”

James smiled proudly. “Now, that one is brilliant! It’s chocolate sponge layered with whipped cream, zabaglione custard and bits of fresh fruit. Chocolatey, fruity and creamy all at the same time. It satisfies all your cravings in one bite.”

Donna snickered. “I’m guessing you’ve had that one before.”

“Oh, maybe once or twice,” he giggled, cheeks reddening slightly. “Actually, it’s one of my favorites. You can’t go wrong no matter which you pick.”

“Then that’s what I’ll have: a Selva slice and the Earl Grey tea. What are you having?”

James bent down to take another look at the cakes. He ran the tip of his tongue over his upper lip. Finally, he smiled and nodded to himself.

“The double chocolate cake is calling to me. I think I’ll have that and a double espresso.”

Donna noticed James closely studying the older man, who had straightened up and was speaking with the counter girl. He smiled and slightly inclined his head of long dark curls towards Timothy.

“He’s the dad of one of my best pals, ” James whispered. “I wanted to be sure before opening my mouth.”

James gently tugged the man’s sleeve and said, “They’re all good; but I’d go with the double chocolate cake myself, Tim.”

The older man turned around, and Donna Saint James found herself face-to-face with the man she knew as Wanda Ventham’s lover.

 

 

Timothy Carlton found the sleeve tugger to be Benedict’s friend, James Rhodes. However, he didn’t expect to also see Donna Saint James standing behind James. As soon as they had made eye contact, Donna had immediately looked away, pretending to be engrossed in the overhead beverage menu on the wall behind the counter.

_Oh my God! He looks just like the man from the Orangery! I need to get a better look to be sure. Maybe he just resembles him. There are plenty of tall silver-haired men in London. I’m jumping to conclusions. What are the odds that James would know him?_

_That’s Donna Saint James! Could she be here with James? No. She must have come in after him. Ben hasn’t mentioned that James was going out with anyone that I can recall._

“Well, fancy meeting you here, James!” Timothy reached out and warmly clasped the younger man’s offered hand.

“At first, I wasn’t completely sure it was you; but your voice gave you away,” said James.

James turned and motioned for Donna to come forward. He stepped aside, allowing her room to move closer so he could introduce her to Timothy.

“Donna, I’d like you to meet my mate’s father.”

Donna stood beside James, finally getting a good close-up look at Timothy. She was at once dumbfounded and panicked.

_It is that man from the Orangery! The one who’s having the affair with Wanda! Oh, my God! What am I going to do? Be calm, Donna. He has no idea you were spying on them. He just associates you with being that klutzy girl in the restaurant who nearly ruined his clothes and injured his lover._

James made the introductions: “Tim, this is Donna. Donna, Tim.”

_So, Donna is with James. I wonder how in the hell they came to be acquainted? Is this a simple ‘friends catching up over a coffee’ or something more? Wanda’s going to want to know. Thank God her back is to us. She’d be texting me a list of questions to ask James. I supposed I could ask him myself if she leaves us alone. Perhaps I should ask Ben instead. He’d definitely know._

Timothy offered his hand to Donna and smiled graciously.

“So we meet again; but this time under proper circumstances.”

_Shit. He remembers me. I guess I would be hard to forget after that afternoon._

Donna flashed a friendly smile at Timothy and shook his hand.

“Yes, it is nice to be able to put a name to the face.”

James’ face wore a perplexed expression as he looked from one to the other.

_What the fuck? Did I miss something here? They seem to know each other, yet don’t seem comfortable in each other’s presence. I wonder what their circumstances are?_

James pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose. He tried his best to sound casual, “You two know each other then?”

Donna and Timothy smiled at each other, cheeks reddening.

_I guess you could say we know each other, James. Wanda posted an ad on Craigslist for a wife for Benedict and Donna responded. We conducted the interview at the Orangery. I was playing James Bond at the next table, when Donna accidentally covered my clothes in whatever was on the sweets tray that day. This was after she nearly blinded my wife with lemon juice and broke her foot with that valise-sized bag of hers that she’s carrying – accidentally also. By the way, Ben, of course, has no idea what’s going on; so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention any of this to him._

Donna could feel the tension growing between her and Timothy.

_Oh, we sure do know each other, James! I was dumb enough to answer his paramour’s ad for a mate for her son. Your friend’s father was sitting at the next table pretending he didn’t know her; but afterwards I discovered that they did know each other by spying on them from behind some bushes. And before you get the wrong idea, no I usually don't make it a habit to spy on people.  Anyway, from the look and sound of it, they know each other in the biblical sense!_

Timothy stood still, hands in pockets and cleared his throat.

“We were sitting at neighboring tables at the Orangery last month,” he said simply. “Sometimes people get to chatting, you know how it is.”

Donna smiled in what Tim thought was relief and nodded in agreement. He watched as she fiddled with her bracelet.

Two counter girls approached Timothy and James for their orders. Donna watched them nervously. 

_Okay, now what do I do? Do I just try and get away or do I mention my faux pas and apologize again?_ wondered Donna as she bit her lower lip. She noted that there wasn’t quite enough room to squeeze past Timothy without acknowledging him.

Timothy finished ordering and paying before James did. He turned to Donna while he waited for his order to be prepared.

“Funny how paths can crisscross, isn’t it?” he chuckled.

Donna looked down at her shoes then up at Timothy. His hazel eyes were sparkling with good humor and kindness. She could detect no malice.

_Gosh, his face reminds me of Benedict’s in some way. If I didn’t know better, I’d say they were related. I have to stop thinking about Benedict and concentrate on making amends with this man. I really don’t want him to think I’m a nutcase._

Donna lowered her voice a bit, so James wouldn’t overhear her. He was busy joking with the girl behind the counter.

“I’m still really sorry about what happened at the Orangery. Did the stains come out of your clothes?”

“Every last one. That little stain remover wipe of yours did the trick. My wife’s been looking for them ever since,” replied Timothy. “She was quite impressed.”

Donna quickly opened her bag and pulled out a small packet of the wipes after rummaging around for a minute. She handed them to Timothy.

“You can only get these in the US; but here are some more, in case you need them. My parents mail them to me all the time. I’ve got plenty at home.”

James had finished paying and had turned his attention back to Timothy and Donna’s conversation. He noted that the tension between the two had somewhat dissipated.

“Thank you, Donna. My wife will be very pleased.”

Donna noticed that the cafe was getting fairly crowded and there weren’t many open tables left.

“James, I think I’ll get us a table while you wait for the cake.”

“Good idea. I’ll join you in a couple of minutes.”

“Nice meeting you, Tim,” said Donna with a smile.

“Likewise,” replied Timothy with a slight nod of his head.

Donna quickly scanned the cafe and spied a table for two in the front, not too far from the display case. She sat down, facing the mirrored wall; so she could watch James and Timothy on line behind her.

“Are you here alone, Tim?” James asked Timothy as he gazed around the room.

_Here’s your chance, Timothy. Make Wanda proud._

“No. Wanda’s at a table all the way in the back. We stopped in for a quick bite while doing errands, but you can never leave here without having pudding. So is Donna a friend of yours? She’s quite lovely.”

James turned to see where Donna was sitting. He smiled shyly at Timothy.

“Isn’t she though? Actually, this is our first date. We met at the Steinway Store one rainy afternoon. She came in to get out of the storm, and I was practicing in their recital room.”

_Christ, I don't want to ask this question, but Wanda will certainly kill me if I don't._

"Has Ben met her yet?"

"No.  He knows I'm seeing someone is all.  He'll ...."

“Here’s your cake, Love. Enjoy it!” The counter girl handed Timothy his tray. “Next!” She called to the man behind James.

_Damn!  Just as he was going to tell me more. I'm pretty good at interrogation.  I got my answer:  Ben hasn't met her._

“I believe that’s my cue to not hold up the queue. Take care, James. I hope all goes well then. Wanda’s going to be over the moon when she hears.”

“Thanks, Tim. So do I. Enjoy your pudding and give my love to Wanda,” smiled the pianist. “Stop by our table on the way out, and I’ll introduce her to Donna.”

_Oh, Wanda would love nothing more, I’m sure. I’m going straight to hell for lying. Wanda’s going to be many things when I tell her that Donna’s dating James, but over the moon is not going to be one of them, thought Timothy as he pondered how he was going to break this news to his wife._

 

  
Wanda swallowed the last bite of her sandwich and patted her lips with her napkin while she waited for Timothy to return with their pudding.

_That was almost as good as the cheese toasties at Borough Market. I think I’ll refresh my lipstick while I have a moment. I’m sure the butter must have smeared it, and I don’t fancy looking like a clown._

Wanda opened her handbag and pulled out her lipstick and mirrored compact. She reapplied her lipstick and blotted it on her napkin to set it. As she checked her hair in the mirror, she caught a familiar reflection. Wanda thought her eyes were playing tricks on her.

_Is that Donna Saint James sitting up front?_

Wanda moved her compact so she could get a better look, and it was indeed Donna Saint James sitting at a table for two perpendicular to hers.

_What an opportunity! I can sit down with her and discuss the details on meeting Benedict. Fate is smiling down on me today!_

Wanda quickly closed the compact and tossed it and the lipstick back into her handbag as Timothy returned and set the tray in the center of the table. He sat down, leaned forward and grabbed Wanda’s arm as she started to get up.

“What are you doing? I’ll be back in a couple of minutes, Tim. Eat the cake while I’m gone. There’s an opportunity here that I need to seize!”

“Sit down, Wanda!” he whispered urgently. “There’s something I need to tell you first.”  
  
Wanda sat back down on the chair. “What in bloody hell has gotten into you, Tim?”  she asked impatiently.

“What is this opportunity you’re so hell-bent on seizing?”

“I don’t know if you saw, but Donna Saint James is here. I want to go talk with her is all.”

“Don’t turn around just yet, but there are two reasons why you can’t do that.”

Wanda huffed. “You’re wasting valuable time! I don’t know how long she’s been here.”

“Not long at all. Now, please listen to me carefully before you go flouncing off half-cocked. First of all, you can’t risk her seeing us together. If she does, she’ll know I was eavesdropping on the interview at the Orangery. Do we really want to have to explain that before she’s even had the chance to meet Ben? In case you've forgotten, she was already suspicious of us.”

Wanda sighed and put her handbag back on the floor. “Right you are....as always. I’ll just sit here with my back to her. With my hair up in a twist today a lot of the gray shows, so she probably won’t notice me.”

“That’s right. Last time she saw you, your hair was down and it was a lot blonder,” Timothy agreed.

“It’s a good thing I decided to let the blonde colour fade. I can’t be a dolly bird forever,” Wanda lamented. “It was getting to be too much to keep up with.”

“I suppose this makes you a dolly hen,” quipped Timothy as he cut the cake and eclair in half.  

“Smart-ass doesn’t become you, Timothy,” snapped Wanda as she accepted a plate of cake from him.

“Rest assured, in the barnyard of life, I’ll always be your cock,” he purred in a low voice, as he leered at her.

Wanda rolled her eyes and took a bite of the cake. “I’ve always loved your dirty mind.” She chewed and swallowed. “Mmmm...good choices. Now, tell me what she’s doing.”

Timothy watched Donna and James talking and laughing animatedly in the front of the store. It bothered him to see it more than he wanted to admit to himself.

_Bollocks. It should have been Ben sitting with her.  Fate is pushing back at us._

“Tim, what’s going on? You also said there was another reason,” prodded Wanda as she took a bite of the eclair.

“That I did. Donna Saint James is here with James. He introduced us while I was ordering the pudding. He said....”

“James?”

“Ben’s friend, James Rhodes. Apparently, .....”

“I know who you mean! What is she doing here with him?”

“I’ll tell you when you’re done interrupting me, pet.”

“Sorry.”

“James told me they’re here on their first date.”

Wanda dropped her fork and stared at her husband in disbelief. “Bloody fucking bollocks!”

“That’s what I said...to myself, of course.”

“How in the hell could this have happened? Does Benedict know?”

“Our good friend ‘fate’ brought them together at the Steinway store, and no, Ben only knows that he's dating someone.”

“More like our traitor friend ‘fate’. Good Lord, can it get any worse?”

“Oh, absolutely. James wants to introduce you to Donna on our way out. Bless him and his Harrovian manners.”

“Damn Harrow and their obsession with good manners! What are we going to do, Tim?”

“There's really nothing that we can do in this case. We have to sit back and let nature take its course. Oh, by the way, these are for you with Donna’s compliments,” Timothy extracted the stain removal wipes from his pocket and placed them on the table.

“She’s such a kind and thoughtful bird.” Wanda picked up the wipes and placed them in her handbag. She carefully turned and watched James and Donna talking. “I’m betting a hundred quid that it doesn’t work out. She’s not his type. James needs someone who’s as into music as he is. Donna’s more well-rounded.”

Timothy smiled. “She certainly is from what I’ve seen.”

Wanda gently slapped his hand. “Bugger off! I’m not talking about her figure. I’m talking about her interests.”

“But of course,” said Timothy innocently. “Now, getting back to topic, this is one time where I’m going to agree with you. I don’t think she’s his type either. He needs to be with a musician. Pretend you didn’t see them and contact her tomorrow to confirm the plan to meet Ben next week. I'd lock down Saturday at the market before James has a chance to introduce them or worse still, ask her out again.”

“Agreed, but this is one time I’d really love to give fate a good, swift kick in the arse.”

“And I’d be more than happy to help you,” added Timothy. “Let’s just hope James doesn’t start telling Donna about us, or worse yet that she has to use the loo.”

Wanda looked around frantically. “Where’s the loo?”

“Behind us. Donna would have to pass right by us to get to it.”

“Shit,” said Wanda.

“Let’s hope not,” quipped Timothy as he ate some chocolate eclair.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have never eaten at Patisserie Valerie, but I've gone inside to take a peek. It is a mecca for cake lovers. :-)


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things begin to ramp up this week! Donna and James’ coffee date continues. Wanda is spotted. Benedict plans dinner and winds up unintentionally inspiring James.

 

Donna Saint James took a small sip of her tea and laughed at James Rhodes’ joke about a glow-in-the-dark rabbit.  
  
“You’re quite the humorist.  I always thought classical musicians were very serious people.”  
  
“We do have a reputation for being serious and boring. However,  I will only admit to being serious about my music.  I’ve learned to take life as it comes and most importantly to enjoy it.”  
  
James groaned inwardly. _Why did I mention boring?  Maybe she didn’t notice yet. No, she had to have heard that. She’s probably thinking that I’m quite right about that._  
  
“Well, you certainly are anything but boring!” laughed Donna.  “I can’t remember when I last laughed this much.”  
  
 _Well, actually, I can.  Whenever I’m with Benedict, but that’s a bit different.  We wind up in wacky situations to laugh about.  Yet Benedict has that dry, wicked sense of humor.  He and James are similar in some ways, yet very different. I need to push Benedict out of my mind and concentrate on this sweet man before me._  
  
James blushed as he stirred a bit more sugar into his espresso. “I wasn’t exactly fishing for compliments...”  
  
“Sure you were,” teased Donna.    
  
James raised his hands in mock surrender. “Fine.  I admit it.  I can be terribly insecure at times.  Please feel free to flatter me all you’d like.”  
  
“That’s hard to believe.  I was only thinking how self-assured you are.”  
  
James almost choked on his espresso and began to giggle.  “Christ – are you trying to kill me?  I don’t think anyone has ever said that about me.”  
  
 _Oh, James, stop giggling like a love-struck school boy.  I can’t remember when I was last around someone who makes me this giddy. I’ve got to get hold of myself._  
  
 _He’s a little uncomfortable.  I’ll change the subject_ , thought Donna.  
  
“You were right.  This is very good cake.  I’ll have to remember to come back next time I’m in the area,”  Donna said.  
  
“Next time you need a cake fix,  I’ll take you to Laduree.  Macarons to die for.”  
  
James suddenly started to laugh at the memory of him and Benedict that morning in Laduree.  
  
“As a matter of fact, I’ve got a great story about Tim’s son!  We had met for breakfast one morning and afterwards he asked me to walk over to Laduree with him.  He wanted to buy his parents a box of the macarons to go along with their anniversary gift...”  
  
 _Oh, how sweet of Tim’s son!_  
  
“...so, we go in and we’re standing in the queue – there’s two older ladies in front of us.  First of all, you have to understand that my mate is perpetually late.  He also saves everything for the last minute, so I decide to entertain myself by having a go at him in the queue....”  
  
 _Hmmmm...there’s a lot of these perpetually late men in London. Must be something in the water._  
  
“...anyhow, I teased him about that, which earns him these withering looks of disapproval from the women. I've found there’s never any need to quiz him, as he always comes out with what he doesn’t want you to know.  Before I knew it he confesses that he’s buying a replacement box of macarons for his parents.  I, of course, ask him why; and he tells me he decided to taste one and wound up eating the whole box.  There must have been at least forty of the mini ones in that box!”  
  
“Oh, my God! That’s an awful lot of macarons!” exclaimed Donna laughing.  
  
“...I kept on making a right meal of teasing him about it; and those two women are standing there taking in the whole conversation, and you can just see that they think he’s an absolute dick. Meanwhile, he's dying a thousand deaths trying to get me to stop busting on him.”  
  
James paused to wipe tears from his eyes from laughing so hard.  He held up one finger while he composed himself.  
  
“Wait.  I save the best for last.  Do you understand French, Donna?”  
  
“Oui.”  
  
“Brilliant!  You are really going to wee yourself.  So, when it’s finally his turn, he notices that the counter girl about to serve him is rather fetching.  Most of them are French and absolutely lovely.  Anyway, he not-so-subtlely looks her up and down and then says to her in his best broken French:  Bonjour, I would like two boxes of macarons, s'il vous plait. One's for a gift. Tes yeux sont comme deux beaux choux ronds, he adds with an attempt at a most debonair wink.”  
  
Donna covered her mouth with her napkin and guffawed.    
  
“NOOOO!  Oh, please tell me he didn’t tell her that she had eyes like two beautiful round cabbages!”  
  
James was laughing so hard, he could barely speak.  He removed his glasses to wipe them off and nodded his head.  
  
“Yes, he most certainly did.  The tit had no idea what he had said to her!”  
  
“Oh, my Gosh!  I can’t stop laughing!” cried Donna.    
  
James held up his finger again.  
  
“Still not done.  The ending is fucking paramount!”  
  
Donna blotted her eyes.  “Okay.  I’m ready when you are....I can’t wait to hear what her reaction was.”  
  
James licked his lips and started giggling again.    
  
“Ready?”  
  
“YES!” laughed Donna.  “Please tell me – my sides hurt!”  
  
"She looks him square in the face, smiles and says most pleasantly in a French accent:  You must like cabbages a lot, Monsieur. Then I hear her mutter under her breath in the Yorkshire dialect: Dumb wanker."  
  
Donna cackled, “That is one of the funniest stories I’ve ever heard, James! Your friend sounds like an absolute hoot.  I can’t imagine someone eating all of those!  He must have some sweet tooth.”  
  
“You don’t even want to know some of the sweet-eating binges he’s been on,” James laughed.  “I love sweets, but he’s far worse than I am.”  
  
“So, how did you meet Tim’s son? Were you school mates?”  
  
“Yeah.  We met at Harrow.  He was a year behind me.  I was just thinking, he told me about another place that just opened near Saint Paul’s – Bea’s of Bloombury.  They’re famous for their fairy cakes.”  
  
“Fairy cakes?”  
  
“Cupcakes to you.”  
  
“You seem to know all the patisseries in London, James.”  
  
“That I do.  Seeking out good food is my life’s mission, besides my music, of course.”  
  
Donna finished her tea.  “Would you like to accompany me on my next restaurant review?  I think you’d really enjoy it.”  
  
 _Holy fucking Christ!  She’s asking me out, and we haven’t even finished our first date yet?  Score, Rhodes!  I think I may actually feel a bit light-headed. I’m feeling all teary-eyed again._  
  
“How lovely of you! I would love nothing more, Donna!  When is it? ”  
  
“Monday night at Bar Boulud.  It’s in the Mandarin Oriental Hyde Park. I have a reservation for seven-thirty.”  
  
James thought for a moment.  “I’ll make sure to practice my arse off all day, so I can take a break for dinner.”    
  
“Oh, that’s right.  Your concert is Tuesday night.  I don’t want to distract you.”  
  
James smiled at her.  “You are a most lovely and welcome distraction.  I can’t practice twenty-four-seven.  Even obsessed musicians like myself need to relax a bit.”  
  
“It’s a date then,” smiled Donna.  “By the way, I’m going to ask my sister and her husband to join us.  The more mouths, the more dishes I can taste.”  
  
“That’s fine with me,” said James as he ate some cake.  He felt as if he would explode with happiness.  
  
 _She wants me to meet her family!  This is really going too well. I must be dreaming!  Now seems to be a good time to ask her how she knows Tim._  
  
“Donna, can I ask how it is you know Tim?  I couldn’t help but notice you handing him some kind of packet and was wondering what the back story was.”  
  
 _No, you can’t but you did; so now I have to tell you.  Damn.  Only tell him as much as you have to, Donna._  
  
“I was having afternoon tea at the Orangery with a friend.  It’s such a nice venue inside.  Have you been there?”  
  
 _I actually answered a personal ad for a husband and was being interviewed by his mother. I was feeling sorry for myself that I couldn’t meet any nice guys._  
  
“Yes, it’s an absolutely lovely setting.  I’ve been there many times,” agreed James as he drained his espresso and smacked his lips.  
  
“As you probably know, the tables can be close together there.  Tim was sitting alone at the table next to us reading his book....”  
  
 _Little did I know that she was his lover in reality at the time.  I just thought he was a nosy man, listening in on our conversation.  But then I noticed that they were both sending text messages that seemed to coincide with each others. I feel so bad for his son, who probably doesn’t even know.  What I really need to do is stop passing judgement and mind my own business.  For all  I know, Tim's wife could be a real bitch; and he finds solace with Wanda._  
  
 _How odd that Tim would be taking tea without Wanda_ , thought James.  
  
“....and then I went to cut a cannoli in half to share with my friend.  The shell was very crisp and when the knife finally penetrated the shell – poof!”  
  
Donna demonstrated with her hands what happened.  “It went flying off the plate, taking two other tarts with it.”  
  
The corners of James’ mouth began to turn up.  “That could happen to anybody.”  
  
 _True.  But I neglected to tell you that I almost broke the instep of my prospective mother-in-law and inadvertently squirted lemon juice in her eye prior to that. I thought I had blinded her._  
  
Donna felt her cheeks redden at the memory.  “Some of it landed in his teacup, splashing tea onto his tie and shirt. Another piece wound up on his book and the other I believe fell onto his lap and slid off onto his shoe.”  
  
James covered his mouth with his hand, attempting to stifle a giggle.  Donna could see that the corners of his eyes were crinkled in merriment and starting to tear up.  
  
“Go ahead, James.  Let it out.  It’s alright,” Donna smiled at him.  
  
“Oh my fucking God!  I don’t mean to laugh, but that’s just hysterical! I can imagine Tim sitting there – all posh in his suit and tie wearing his pudding.”  
  
 _It wasn’t funny at the time.  I went to the bathroom to cry.  I was so embarrassed._  
  
James wiped tears from his eyes.  “I can just picture Tim’s face.”  
  
 _Oh, I bet you can’t.  You had to be there.  It’s imprinted in my memory though.._  
  
“Actually, he tried his best to take it in stride. He was a complete English gentleman with the traditional stiff upper lip.  You could hardly tell he was pissed off.”  
  
“Just like the posh gentleman that he is,” mused James.  “Yeah, he wouldn’t make a scene.”  
  
 _Okay, so you could visualize it._  
  
Donna took a deep breath, relieved that James didn’t seem to think her daft.  
  
“I had these stain removal wipes in my bag, so I gave them to him to keep the stains from setting.”  
  
 _I’ve got to tell Ben this story, he’ll absolutely wee himself._  
  
James sat, stroking his beard.  “I noticed that you were taken aback a bit when I introduced you.  For a minute I thought you were considering bolting for the door.”  
  
 _That’s because I was._  
  
Donna sighed. “He was the last person I was expecting to meet today.  Never mind the fact that he’s the father of a friend of yours.”  
  
“That really is a funny story, Donna.  Thanks for sharing it with me,” said James as he reached out and patted her hand. “It’s the kind of thing that happens to all of us.  As a matter of fact, as soon as I get us a refill, I’ve got a story to tell you from my days at Harrow. It’s equally embarrassing, I assure you.”  
  
“No, let me,” said Donna getting up and taking his cup and her empty teapot. “Another double espresso?”  
  
“Please.”  
  
  
  
  
Wanda was savoring a bite of the decadent chocolate cake, when Timothy suddenly picked up her handbag and shoved it at her.    
  
“Donna just got up and went to the counter to get drink refills.  Leave now before she sees you!”  
  
Wanda looked behind her.  Donna was indeed standing online with her back to the room.  She gathered up her jacket and took the bag from her husband.  
  
“What about James?  It would be rude not to stop and say hello.”  
  
“His back’s to you.  Just go and go quickly.  This isn’t the time to make a dramatic exit.”  
  
“But he's facing the window!"

"His head's down.  He's probably fiddling with his mobile, so the odds are he won't notice you. Just go quickly!"

I’ll meet you on the corner nearest the tube.”  
  
“Will do,” said Timothy as he scraped her cake onto his plate.  “Now, off you go then!”  
  
Wanda quickly made her way down the aisle towards the exit.  Luckily, James was preoccupied with his mobile phone.  Donna’s back was towards her.  
  
 _Just a few more steps, and I’ll be out of here, thought Wanda. __  
  
  
  
  
James Rhodes used the time while Donna was getting their drink refills to check his messages.  Among them was an email message from Benedict:  
  
 **Subject:  Need your advice on where the best place would be to take a date out for a nice Sunday lunch. Not a pub exactly – maybe a casual restaurant.**  
_  
  
 _Christ, I do love how he puts his messages in the subject line. Let me send him a text reply._  
  
 _Are you around?  J_  
  
 _Having a soak in the tub.  All this hot water is pure bliss. B_  
  
 _Are you alone?  J_  
  
Why do you ask?  Care to join me?  ;-p   B  
  
 _Just checking to make sure you haven’t broken your vow.  J_  
  
 _Bugger off.  B_  
  
 _I’ve just got a minute.  On date with pretty girl in cake nirvana. J_  
  
 _Where is she?  B_  
  
 _Getting us drink refills. J_  
  
 _She’s already waiting on you hand and foot?  Well done, you wanker.  B_  
  
 _She insisted. It must be the charm that I don’t know I have.  ;-O   J_  
  
 _Stop degrading yourself.  How’s it going?  B_  
  
 _Surprising well.  I’ve already got a second date – she asked me – and I’m going to meet her family! It’s almost too good to be true.  I’m in such a state – I desperately need to get hold of myself.  J_  
  
 _I suggest you wait until you’re in the privacy of your own home. B_  
  
 _(Sighs deeply and chooses to ignore prick’s cheeky comment)  J_  
  
 _What do you need?  J_  
  
 _You’re not the only one whose doing well in the dating arena. I’ve got a third date tomorrow. We’ve decided the night we met counts as a date. B_  
  
 _Congrats! You obviously kept your mouth filter on the whole time.  Well done you. J_  
  
 _I’m going to ignore that. I need a nice place for Sunday lunch.  Casual.  Not too expensive. B_  
  
 _I’ve got just the place! You might even know it as it’s in your old neighborhood. Maggie Jones off Kensington High Street...rustic, yet warm and cozy.  Brilliant English comfort food.  Ask for the two top upstairs in the corner with a view of the street.  It has a bit more privacy. J_  
  
 _Perfect. Good idea. I’ve been there many times.  Thanks.  I’m really over the moon for you!  Bx_  
  
 _Same, Mate!  Jx_  
  
  
  
  
Donna Saint James stood patiently waiting for the counter girl to refill her teapot with hot water.    
  
 _Things are going very well.  He really is alot of fun. Definitely different from Benedict, yet they’re both rather intense and focused types._  
  
Donna gazed at her reflection in the mirror behind the counter.  Then she spied James busy texting on his cellphone.  
  
 _I wonder who he’s texting.  Probably telling someone about my encounter with Tim. I’m sure that story will make the rounds of his friends.  I can tell he’s the gossipy type, bless his little heart._  
  
She absently watched as an attractive older woman with her hair in a French twist hurried down the aisle towards the exit when a man roughly the same age rose from his table, effectively blocking her way.  
  
“Excuse me.  May I pass?” the woman asked brusquely.  “I’m in a terrible hurry.”  
  
“Just a minute, Madam.  Don’t get your knickers in a twist.  I’m going,” replied the man with a touch of annoyance in his voice.  
  
“I have an appointment....” the woman continued, sounding almost in a panic.  
  
“You should leave yourself more time then,” the man admonished as he finished gathering his things up.  
  
Donna did a double take as the woman nervously looked right at her.  Her ice blue eyes locked with Donna’s hazel ones.  
  
 _That’s Wanda Ventham!   I almost didn’t recognize her with her hair up and so gray.   Oh, my God!  She was here having a rendezvous with her lover, who I just met.  I bet he told her that I was here, so she’s trying to leave before I see her.  Oh, it’s too late for that, Wanda!  I know your little secret._  
  
As Donna smiled through the mirror and raised her hand in greeting, the man stepped aside for Wanda to pass.   Wanda lowered her eyes and quickly left the cafe as if she didn’t know Donna.  
  
 _Well, well.  She definitely didn’t want to be recognized. How very interesting._ _Mind your own business, Donna.  Let it go.  Wait for the drinks and put it out of your head.  Tim may have a very good reason for being with Wanda - after all, she is very attractive and fun.  His wife could be making his life a misery at home._ _I wonder if James knows his friend’s father has a lover on the side?_   _Most likely he wouldn't know that._

  
  
  
  
  
Wanda let out the breath she had been holding as she stood in front of the cafe.  Then she turned right and headed to the corner where she and Timothy planned to meet.    
  
 _Bloody fucking hell!  I know she saw and recognized me.  Why is everything going wrong?_  
  
  
  
  
  
Timothy took his last swallow of coffee as James Rhodes walked up the aisle towards him.   Timothy waved and James stopped alongside the table.  
  
“Just popping off to the loo and thought I would say hello to Wanda.”  
  
“Oh, she had an appointment and had to leave in a rush.  I thought she would have said hello to you on her way out,” said Timothy with a concerned frown.  
  
“I was on my mobile texting with Ben as a matter of fact.  She may not have wanted to bother me.”  
  
“I’m sure that was it,” said Timothy as he got up.  “Take care, Jimmy. Good luck on your concert Tuesday night.”  
  
Timothy walked down the aisle and noticed that Donna Saint James was watching him.  He went over to her table.  
  
“It was nice actually meeting you, Donna.  Enjoy the rest of your weekend.  I’m off to meet my wife...,” said Timothy with a smile as his text chime sounded.  He pulled out his mobile and looked at the message from Wanda:   
  
 _Do you plan on coming out anytime soon? I could have walked back and forth to the butcher by now._  
  
“.....who is at this very moment checking on my whereabouts,” he chuckled as he deleted the message.  
  
 _I’d be checking on your whereabouts too, you two-timer!_  
  
“Don’t forget to give her the wipes,” smiled Donna.  “You never know when you may need one.”  
  
“I won’t.  Thanks again.”  
  
Donna watched Timothy leave the cafe and head in the same direction that Wanda did.  
  
 _I really wish I knew the real story of how things are with his wife.  He’s sitting here having coffee with Wanda when he should be with her.  Something's not right here.  He really seems like such a nice man though._   _Mom and Dad would be calling me Sherlock by now.  I have to stop dwelling on them and focus on my date._  
  
“You look deep in thought,” said James as he sat down beside Donna.  
  
“I was just thinking what a nice day it is,” she smiled at him.

 _I was just sitting here thinking about how complicated life can get._  
  
James adjusted his glasses while he decided how to best ask Donna if she’d like to continue their date.    
  
“Since it’s such a nice day, I was wondering if you’d fancy a walk in Regents Park.  It’s not far from here, and the flowers are beautiful this time of year.  Then we could get a bite to eat after that.  I know a cozy little restaurant in Kensington that I think you’ll like.”  
  
“That sounds wonderful.  What’s the name of the restaurant?  I just did a review of one in Kensington last week.”  
  
“Maggie Jones.”  
  
  
  
  
Wanda stood on the corner, tapping her foot. She checked her watch for the tenth time.    
  
 _Where in the heck is he?  Maybe he stopped to chat with James on his way out.  James can be every bit as chatty as Benedict._  
  
She took out her mobile and sent a text message to Timothy.  There was no response.    
  
Finally, Timothy came out of the cafe and strode towards her.    
  
“What took you so long?”  
  
“I wanted to finish your cake and my coffee.  You know how I hate to waste.”  
  
“You ate my bloody cake?”  
  
“I most certainly did.  It was even better than my half.  There was more frosting on yours.”  
  
“I really can’t believe you sat there and finished off all the pudding while I was waiting out here.”  
  
Timothy took her arm and led her back towards the tube station.  “It would have looked peculiar if I ran out right after you, particularly since our prospective daughter-in-law caught sight of you.”  
  
“Shit.  I knew it.  I’m assuming you saw that my way was blocked; so she had ample time to notice me.”  
  
“That she did.  She started to wave to you, but you were already well on your way out.”  
  
“I pretended that I didn’t know who she was.”  
  
“Bad idea.  She definitely knows it was you.  I could tell by the expression on her face and the way she looked after you.  You’re going to have to play it by ear the next time you make contact with her.  Hopefully, she won’t even mention it.”  
  
“Are you forgetting that she’s very much like Benedict?  She’ll mention it. I have no doubt.  Right now I’m more concerned that she’ll ask James about me.  What do you think?”  
  
“I rather doubt it.  She didn’t actually see us sitting together or interacting in any way; so there’s no need for her to be suspicious.”  
  
Timothy took out their oyster cards so they could pass through the tube turnstiles.  He patted Wanda’s shoulder.  
  
“Don’t look so glum, Love.  What’s the worst thing she could find out if she does decide to quiz him?  That we’re actually married to each other?”  
  
Wanda shrugged and laughed.  “I suppose it’s better than letting her think we’re having an affair.  Could you imagine that?”  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Anyone catch the nod to Sherlock?  
> 2\. In this universe, Benedict studied French in school and can pretty much get by - except when he was trying to flirt with the counter girl at Laduree.  
> 3\. Next week the paths will continue to converge....stay tuned!  
> 4\. A huge THANK YOU to darling reader, Reading Bennie, who found another Sherlock nod that I hadn't realized I had written.


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Donna and Benedict have an adventure at the bookstore. Wanda and Timothy share some black humour and prepare to send Donna another photo of Benedict.

 

Donna Saint James had arrived at the Picadilly Circus tube station fifteen minutes early.  She stood inside at the appointed exit and waited patiently for signs of Benedict Cumberbatch.  It was raining and chilly outside, so Donna had opted for jeans, a cuddly pink angora sweater and waterproof boots.  She topped her outfit off with a long, hooded, black rain coat to keep her clothes dry while walking outdoors.  
  
 _I wonder if I should get us coffee or tea to warm up? I could certainly use a hot cup of tea, and I bet Benedict would appreciate one.  But, if he’s late, it’ll just get cold and defeat the purpose. I’ll wait until he gets here.  Then I’ll suggest we get something._  
  
Donna gazed out at the rain pouring down and the Londoners going about their business shrouded in rain gear, most heads covered with umbrellas.  The sky was overcast and gray, and the gusts of wind made it feel colder than it was.  
  
 _Good thing I invested in decent rain-wear.  I never realized I’d be using it so often!  This would have been a good morning for sleeping in.  I wouldn’t be surprised if Benedict  decided to catch a few extra winks._  
  
Donna’s text alert went off.  It was her sister, Carly:  
  
 _Why are you out so early on such a miserable day?  I wanted to return the blouse I borrowed but you were already gone. C_  
  
 _I have a date to tour the hidden bookstores of London.  :-)   D_  
  
 _Another date?  Same guy as last night?  C_  
  
 _Nope.  Same guy as Friday night.  :-)  D_  
  
 _I can’t keep up with your social calendar these days.  C_  
  
 _My social life has always been feast or famine and now it’s time for feasting! LOL  D_  
  
 _Bon appetit!  ;-p   C_  
  
  
  
  
Donna looked at her watch and groaned inwardly as the minute hand crawled past the meeting time.  
  
 _I really hate waiting. My fault though – I’m always early, so I wind up waiting longer than I should.  Now, if I were meeting James, he would have been waiting when I got off the train. I have a feeling I could date Benedict for ten years, and he’d never be on time.  I need to practice being more patient._  
  
Donna passed the time by thinking about what a nice date she had had with James Rhodes the day before.  After their afternoon treat, they had continued their date and gone for a long walk in Regents Park.  All the spring flowers were in bloom, and Donna had taken photos to send back home to her family.  The time had flown as they proceeded to exchange information about their families, schooling and work.  They had shared many amusing anecdotes that kept them laughing.  The pair had thoroughly enjoyed each others company.  
  
However, there were two things that Donna found she did not have in common with James.  One was his great love and devotion to classical music.  Donna liked it well enough; but he had a deep-seated devotion that went far beyond her interest.  She could see how his love of music might be all-consuming at times.  The second was his smoking habit.  Donna was allergic to tobacco smoke. While taking a break on a bench, James had asked if she minded if he smoked.  Donna had to tell him about her allergy. He completely understood so they compromised.  Whenever James felt the need to smoke, he would go off a ways so as not to bother her.     
  
After their walk in the park, they had taken a cab to Maggie Jones’.  Over a delicious dinner of Rocket salad with cheddar cheese and mushrooms, followed by juicy, medium rare filet mignons with buttery mashed potatoes and roasted asparagus; they continued their getting-to-know-each other conversation.  James was quite the talker, and Donna enjoyed hearing him tell a story.  While they were sharing an order of bread and butter pudding with custard for dessert, James had invited Donna to his concert on Tuesday night at the Ambassadors Theatre.  She had happily accepted his invitation to the concert and a late supper with some of his friends afterwards. Donna was particularly excited about meeting Tim’s son, who James said would be there and sitting beside her.  
  
James had been a perfect gentleman, and they exchanged a sweet, yet lingering goodnight kiss at her door. Donna decidedly liked how his soft beard tickled her chin.  James was a very good kisser; but not as good as Benedict was.  Benedict’s kiss had left her feeling tingly, a bit giddy and almost light-headed - like a glass of champagne.  James’ left her feeling warm and happy -  like a cup of hot cocoa with colorful marshmallows.  
  
 _I shouldn’t be comparing them.  After all, this was our first date. I need to kiss Mr. Rhodes a few more times to make a fair comparison._  
  
Donna checked the time.  It was eleven-twenty.    
  
 _Looks like Mr. Cumberbatch is late again. I bet today he’ll be wearing full-out casual.  Maybe he’ll be wearing socks with clouds and raindrops and little owls carrying umbrellas._  
  
“Good Morning, Donna!”  
  
Donna turned at the sound of Benedict’s deep baritone voice.  He was dressed in charcoal gray jeans, black leather lace-up shoes and a black raincoat. She could see that he was wearing a dark purple turtleneck sweater underneath. There was a large folded umbrella hanging from a strap over his forearm; and he was carrying two Styrofoam hot cups.    
  
“I thought you might fancy some hot tea to warm you up,” Benedict leaned down and kissed her on the lips.  To his delight, he felt her respond immediately and held the kiss so as to savor the contact a bit longer.    
  
“You must have read my mind. Thank you,” Donna smiled warmly as she accepted the cup from him.   _You read my mind on both accounts – the tea and the kiss._  
  
“Earl Grey with milk and two demerara sugars,” Benedict recited proudly as he drank some of his.  
  
“You have a good memory, Benedict.”  Donna took a sip through an opening in the lid. “Mmmm...perfect.”  
  
 _It was easy being we like our tea the same way,_ Benedict thought with amusement.  
  
“Ready for your tour then?  I’m afraid the weather turned out worse than originally forecasted.”  
  
“I’m as water and wind-proof as I’ll ever be!”    
  
“Brilliant.  The first store is just around the corner.  We can bring our drinks with us.  The owner doesn’t mind,” said Benedict as he handed his cup to Donna to hold.  “We’ll use my umbrella.  It will easily cover us both.”  
  
Once outside, Donna carried the cups while Benedict held the large umbrella over their heads, his free arm wrapped around her shoulder as they walked.  She was feeling rather content.  
  
 _I’ll have to forgive his tardiness.  He greeted me with such a nice kiss and even brought me tea just the way I like it.  That was very thoughtful.  I also like how he puts his arm around me.  I could get used to this._  
  
Benedict found himself enjoying the closeness as they walked along to the bookstore.  He had caught her watching him with a slight smile on her face.    
  
 _I have to remember to invite her to James’ concert Tuesday night.  I can’t wait to introduce them.  He’s definitely going to approve of her!_  
  
  
  
  
Four hours later, Benedict and Donna sat shoulder-to-shoulder on a cozy couch in a musty old book store in a lane near Charring Cross.  It was their last stop before heading out to Maggie Jones’ for a late Sunday lunch.   Benedict was over the moon with the way the day had gone so far.  He had set two alarms to ensure he would be on time to meet Donna at the Picadilly Circus tube station.  In reality he was twenty minutes late, but Donna didn’t seem to mind.  She was definitely pleased that he had brought her tea and remembered how she liked it.  They continued to share his large umbrella as they went from bookstore to bookstore, making purchases in some but not in others.  Benedict was pleasantly surprised that they shared the same eclectic taste in literature.  It was nice to sit beside her and do some reading while taking a break from browsing the shelves.  
  
Benedict glanced at his watch and made a show of re-crossing his legs. He had taken great care in dressing that morning.  His black socks were visible when he sat, and he wanted to be sure that Donna had seen them.  Benedict had briefly considered wearing a pair of the owl ones as a joke but decided against it.  He closed the book he had been reading and waited patiently as Donna finished the chapter she had been deeply engrossed in.    
  
“I think I’m going to get this one,” she gestured to the book on her lap.  “I’m really enjoying it.”  
  
“We’ve been reading the same book,” Benedict laughed as he held up his copy of the book.  “I was also planning on buying it.”  
  
 _He could have read it out loud to me.  I would have loved that...especially the love scenes.  Then I would have wanted to take him on the couch._  
  
“I’ll let you read it after I’m done,” said Donna.  “There’s no need for us to buy the same book.”  
  
“Allow me to buy this one.  You’ve already bought quite a few today,” he indicated the vinyl tote bag of books that Donna had purchased during their tour of the bookstores.  
  
Donna smiled and nodded in agreement at him.  “You’re on.”  
  
“I’ll probably finish it tonight.  Reading is my bedtime tipple.”  
  
“Tipple?  I’m afraid I’ve never heard that word before.”  
  
“It means something you do right before going to sleep.  For some, it’s a hot or alcoholic beverage. I prefer to read a bit.”  
  
“Me, too.  I always read a couple of chapters before bed.”  
  
 _Unless I’m watching one of your movies. Tonight Amazing Grace is on the bill._  
  
“It’s time to head over to Kensington for lunch,” Benedict said.  “I’ve got a table booked for four o’clock.”  
  
Donna got up and straightened her sweater that had ridden up, treating Benedict to a flash of exposed midriff.  “There’s one more book I want to get.  I’ll be right back.”  She headed to the shelves behind them while Benedict took inventory of the books they had selected.  
  
Donna quickly went to the spot where she had seen the book that had originally caught her eyes while browsing.  It was an old store and the new and used books were piled helter-skelter all over the shelves.  Some books were placed correctly on the shelves, yet others were stacked horizontally, while many were randomly strewn about – even on the floor.  
  
 _Now, where is it?  I really need to get it down before Benedict sees it. I wouldn’t want him to get the wrong idea._  
  
Donna’s eyes roamed over the various titles until she spied it on an upper shelf:

  
  
**“Spicy Holiday Sex Tips From a Dominatrix”**

  
  
_What luck!  I’ve been dying to read this since it first came out two years ago.  The reviews made it sound so interesting._  
  
Donna turned to see what Benedict was up to behind her.  He was busy tallying up the books in his basket and making a pile of what he did and didn’t want.  
  
 _Good.  He’s preoccupied.  Now, where was that little step ladder?  I need it to reach the book._  
  
The step ladder turned out to be at the end of the shelf.  Donna retrieved it and climbed up onto the top step.  She reached out, but couldn’t quite grab the book.  
  
 _Damn!  I can’t ask Benedict to get it.  What would he think of me?  I’m also a bit embarrassed to ask the man at the counter to get it down because he’ll think Benedict and I are into that. Then Mr. Nosy Benedict will come over to see what I’m getting._  
  
Donna looked around and spied a long-handled grabber pole standing against the wall.  
  
 _Perfect!  Just the tool I need._  
  
She climbed down, took the pole and proceeded to climb back up to get her book. Unfortunately, it was taking her longer than anticipated to remove the books that were horizontally stacked on top of the one she wanted.  Finally, after moving the books around, Donna was able to try and retrieve her book.  
  
Benedict finished sorting through his books and got up to put back the ones he didn’t intend to buy.  When he turned, there was Donna up on the ladder reaching for a book on a fairly high shelf with a long-handled pole.  Her jumper had ridden up, so her jean-clad bum was exposed along with a good portion of her midriff.  
  
 _What a lovely little bum she has!  Nice and rounded.  I wonder what kind of knickers she fancies? Maybe the low cut ones? Hmmm, I don’t see any telltale lines. Could it be she doesn’t wear any?  I could stand here and enjoy that view all day._  
  
“Son of a bitch!  Damn book!” Donna swore as she stood on her tiptoes at the edge of the ladder’s top step, trying to grasp the book with the grabber.  
  
Benedict saw that she was having difficulty.  He also noted that some of the books she had carelessly piled to her left were starting to slide.  He rushed to her side and tried to take the pole from her.  
  
“Donna!  You’re going to fall and get killed!  Let me get it!”  
  
 _OH NO!  Where did he come from? Just what I didn’t want to happen!_  
  
Donna kept a firm grip on the pole.  “I’ve almost got it, Benedict.  Thanks for the offer.”  
  
“Please allow me to get it, Donna.  You’re tipping the ladder.  Don’t you feel it?”  His voice sounded truly alarmed.    
  
“No,”  Donna grunted as she made one last attempt to get the book.  “Let me give it one last try. Ah, got it! Oh my God, this fucking ladder...”  
  
Benedict saw the ladder begin to tip and grabbed Donna around her bare waist to steady her.  He liked the feel of her smooth, warm skin against his hands.  
  
His action startled Donna, and she turned quickly to face him, pulling down her sweater and inadvertently knocking over the stack of books on her right with the pole.  
  
“What are you doing, Benedict?  Your hands are freezing!” She yelped.  
  
“Watch out!  Cover your head!”    
  
Benedict quickly lifted her off the ladder as the books on the left continued their slow motion slide off the shelf.  They had barely missed getting clobbered by the books her pole had knocked over on the right.  
  
Donna dropped her prized book as she and Benedict were suddenly surrounded by an avalanche of paperback and hardcover books that they tried to stop in vain.  The pair stood dumfounded at all the books at their feet.  A lightweight paperback had landed on top of Benedict’s head, only to slide off onto his feet.  
  
“Are you alright, Donna?”  
  
“Just a little shaken up.  You?”  
  
“Yeah.  Just a bit startled.  Sorry about my hands, they tend to get cold easily.”  
  
“Ahem! I expect you two will be tidying up that mess you made?”  Came the voice of the obviously annoyed clerk from behind them.  
  
“Of course we will,” said Benedict.  “It was an accident.”  
  
“I’m so dreadfully sorry,” added Donna.  “We’ll put them all back.”  
  
The clerk snorted and shook his head. “I close up at six.  That should give you more than enough time.”  He shook his head in disgust and went back to the counter in front of the store to read his book and finish his chip butty.  
  
Benedict rubbed the back of his neck as they surveyed the mess.    
  
“Where’s the book you wanted?” he asked.  
  
“Somewhere on the floor. I dropped the damn thing,” replied Donna in disgust.  
  
“Next time, please ask me to help you.”  
  
“Point made and taken.”  Donna sat down on the floor and began to sort through the books.  “Wait! I’ve got an idea.  Be right back.”  She jumped up and rushed off towards the back of the store.  
  
Benedict began to pick up the books that were scattered all around him.  They were all cookbooks.  
  
 _Hmmmm...Sweet and Savory Scones, Rutabaga: the Misunderstood Vegetable, One Hundred Recipes for the Dark Chocolate Lover.  Why am I not surprised? A food critic would be drawn to cookbooks._  
  
“Look what I found, Benedict! This will make it easier!”  
  
Benedict looked up to see Donna pushing a metal cart towards him.  “We can gather up the books and stack them on here.  Then all we have to do is roll it to the shelf.”  
  
“Then I’ll hand you the books to put back on the shelf,” suggested Benedict.  “It shouldn’t take us too long.”  
  
“Sounds like a plan!”  
  
 _Now how do I find my book in this mess without him seeing it?_  
  
  
  
  
Wanda Ventham and Timothy Carlton had just returned to their Kensington flat from Sunday lunch at St. Martin in the Fields’ Cafe in the Crypt.  
  
“There is nothing as festive as having Sunday lunch in a crypt at our age,” mused Timothy as he hung up their wet raincoats on the coat rack in the entrance hall.  
  
“Oh, stop that!  You kept raving about the food,” scoffed Wanda as she went into the lounge and turned on their computer.  “You even helped to finish my main.”  
  
Timothy shivered and put on his blue cardigan jumper and buttoned it halfway. “I wanted to make sure you had room for pudding is all. I was doing you a favor.”  
  
Wanda also found herself shivering.  “It’s a bit chilly in here.  Could you please light us a fire?”  
  
“Of course.”    
  
Timothy crossed the room to the gas-powered fireplace and turned on the ignition.  The clay logs began to glow as the flames leapt up.  
  
“Seriously, pet, the food was excellent.  It was the atmosphere that I found a bit depressing. I kept visualizing Sunday lunch in eternity with Saint Martin himself presiding over the kitchen.”  
  
“You never found it depressing before, Tim,” Wanda laughed.  “As a matter of fact, you often suggest we go there.”  
  
“Possibly because my arthritis is acting up today, no thanks to this dreadful rain.”  
  
“Well, I prefer to think of it as a warm and cozy atmosphere,” said Wanda as she pushed her sleeves down over her elbows and tucked her hair behind her ears. “Remember how delightfully cool it is in there during the summer?”  
  
“Just like a funeral parlor.”  Timothy scoffed.

He returned to the foyer to fold the umbrellas and put them back in the blue and white china umbrella stand.

“I half-expected to see signs stating:  coffin discounts with daily special or embalming upon request,” Timothy quipped.  “All that stone and marble is depressing on a rainy day.”

  
Wanda snickered, “How about free confessions with coffee refill?”  
  
“I do rather like that one,” chuckled Timothy. “Mine were rather depressing.”  
  
Wanda rolled her eyes and sat down at the computer.  “Aren’t you in a mood then!  My intention was not to depress you.  You never said you didn’t like it there.  You’ve always said how good the food is at the churches and what good value it is.”  
  
Timothy winced and held his lower back. “Sorry to be so stropy, Love.  I think the benefit of a heating pad and a lie down will do wonders for my back and mood.”  
  
“I agree.  I was also just thinking that you never complain about the crypt at Saint Paul’s.”  
  
“Saint Paul’s crypt is nice and cheery compared to Saint Martin’s.  It’s lighter and not as dark.  They also bake a better Eccles cake.”  
  
Wanda stared at him.  “Well, that’s a first.  A cheery crypt.  Well,  I liked that it was so nice and quiet in there today. No school groups to run amok or tourists with their flash photography.”  
  
“I had considered the fact that you wanted to go there because you were hoping that by some chance your fan club would be having another meet.”  
  
Wanda turned to face her husband with narrowed eyes.

“Oh, you really are stropy this afternoon!  I think you’re jealous that those young men remembered me from playing Virginia Lake – the reruns of course.”  
  
“What I remember is that they were shocked that you were, as they put it – ‘still around’….”  Timothy grinned at her slyly as he warmed his hands by the fire.  
  
“They weren’t a fan club!  They were here on a business trip from Blackpool.  As a matter of fact they couldn’t have been much older than Ben.”  
  
“I thoroughly enjoyed watching you autograph their napkins, but dare I say the lipstick kiss was a bit over the top...”  
  
Wanda tossed her head and turned back to the computer screen. 

“You can tease me all you like, Tim. It was still a nice way to spend a rainy afternoon, enjoying a delicious and  – as you are fond of saying – thrifty meal in a cozy atmosphere with my loving husband.”  
  
“You said I was stropy.”  
  
“You said you were stropy.  I said you were in a mood. Now, I’m going to do my best to ignore your foul temper and do something important.”  
  
Timothy grimaced as he attempted to straighten up.  
  
“What’s on the agenda for the rest of the day, Milady?  If you don’t need me, I think I’ll go have a snuggle with the heating pad and practice perfecting my grumping.”  
  
“I was hoping you could help me with emailing Donna Saint James another photo of Benedict that will actually open before you head off to the Land of Nod.  I still can’t figure out why that file was corrupted.”  
  
Timothy walked over and took a seat beside Wanda.  “I haven’t a clue. You’re the computer genius.”    
  
Wanda and Timothy read over the help section of their Photo Shop program for several minutes.  Timothy finally sat back in his chair and crossed his legs.  
  
“What am I looking for?” asked Timothy.  “It’s all Greek to me.”  
  
“Oh, wait!  I think I found out what the problem is," Wanda exclaimed.  "I wasn’t naming the files properly.  I was adding an extra ‘x’.  Donna’s program, which is different from ours, was showing that the file was corrupted.”  
  
Timothy nodded approvingly.  “This is why you’re the computer whiz in the family, and you've got the certificate to prove it!”  
  
“I thought you were going off to the bedroom to have a pout.”  
  
“It’s more fun pouting with you.” Timothy started to laugh. “And _you_ also asked for _my_ help.”  
  
Wanda began to scroll down the list of folders in their directory, looking for the ones that would have photos of Benedict that she could send.  Finally, she stopped the cursor on one of the folders named ‘Wanda Headshots’.  
  
“Here it is!”  
  
Timothy frowned.  “Aren’t those your headshots?”  
  
“Yes and within this folder is a sub folder with Ben’s headshots, including the one of him dressed as Sherlock that I’m so fond of.”  
  
“Hold it just one minute, Sneaky Sue.”  Timothy covered Wanda’s mouse hand with his to prevent her from opening the file.  “I was under the distinct impression that Benedict gave you explicit instructions not to ever give out that Sherlock photo because it was a publicity shot.”  
  
“You’re quite correct. The show’s been picked up though, so I see no harm in using it now....”  
  
Timothy frowned.  “Oh, Wanda, I see a lot of harm...”  
  
Wanda interrupted him.  “However, being he made such a fuss about the photo,  I promised not to give it to anyone.  I have no intention of sending Donna that photo...”  
  
“Well, I’m relieved to hear that...”  
  
“...the way it is.  I’m going to just crop out the Sherlock costume and send his face.”  
  
Timothy shook his head.  “I won’t be a party to this, Wanda.”  
  
“That’s fine.  Go have your lie down while I do all the work. Off you go then!”  
  
“His hair's dyed almost black in that photo, and it’s longer than it is now.  I don’t think it looks that much like him,” said Timothy.  “What is it about this particular photo that you’re so smitten with it?”  
  
Wanda smiled.  “Simple. I think he looks mysterious and handsome in it.  That dark, curly hair....his porcelain skin. His cheekbones are so sharp and those gorgeous blue eyes of his just seem to be looking right through to the depths of your soul.”  
  
“Sounds like you’re describing Lestat the vampire. When he starts filming Sherlock, take him with you to have lunch at the crypt.  I bet he could easily pick up a bird there.”  
  
“I will have to crop Martin Freeman out of the photo.  I wouldn’t want Donna to mistake him for Ben.”  
  
“Well, I think Ben looks sinister, especially the creepy preternatural eyes.  He was too thin when that photo was taken.  They even had to dye his eyebrows. You’ll have to explain that he really has auburn hair and is a good stone heavier.  Just my two pence.  Do what you like.”  Timothy pushed back the chair as Wanda opened the folder. “I’ve lived with you long enough to know that you’ll do as you like anyway. As you were then.”  
  
“Hell’s fucking bells!” Wanda exclaimed, banging her fist on the desk. “When did he have time to do this?  This was a bloody password-protected file!”  
  
Timothy leaned over her shoulder and examined the screen.  The folder was devoid of all photos, except for a word document labeled:  For Mum   
  
“Are you telling me he hacked into your file?”  
  
Wanda huffed.  “Believe it or not, he did.”  
  
“I’m impressed.  It must have been when he was coming in and out to use our shower.”  
  
Wanda held her head in her hands.  “All his nicest photos were in there!”  
  
“Being he already guessed it, what was the password?”  
  
“Sherlocked.”  
  
Timothy covered his mouth to keep from laughing.  
  
“If he were twelve, I’d ground him for a month!” cried Wanda, shaking her head in anger.  
  
“Well, he’s almost thirty-three; and he happens to be right.”  Timothy indicated the file with his chin.  “So, don’t you want to know what’s in there?”  
  
Wanda opened it and she read the sentence aloud:

  
**Good try, Mum, but not good enough!!**

  
Timothy guffawed and slapped his thigh.  “Well done, Ben!”  
  
“Ha!  He thinks he can outwit me – we’ll just see about that!” Wanda said gleefully as she returned to the main screen.  
  
Timothy frowned and rested his chin on her shoulder.  “What are you doing?”  
  
“I’m going to restore my files from the recycle bin.”  
  
Wanda clicked on ‘recycle bin’ and looked at the file names.  The photo file was not there.  
  
“What the fuck?  If he deleted it, it should be in here.  I’m the only one who cleans out this file.”  
  
“I believe that one is for you,” Timothy smirked and pointed to another word document labeled:  For Mum Rev A.  
  
Wanda opened the document and read the contents out loud:

  
**I bet you thought I'd forgotten about the recycle bin - not a chance in hell!**

  
  
  
  
  
“So what's the title of the book you lost, Donna?” Benedict inquired as he scooped up an armful of books.   “That way I can keep an eye out for it.”  
  
 _How sweet of him, but I can’t tell him the title.  He’ll think I’m a crazy, wild woman in bed...not that I’m boring...well at least I don’t think I am...I hope I’m not._  
  
Donna pursed her lips as she placed some books on the cart.

“I can’t remember the exact title, but I’ll know it if I see it.  I won’t die if I don’t find it – it’s not important, Benedict.  It was just something that I wanted to read as a lark.”  
  
“Do you recall the author’s name?”  
  
“I think the author’s name began with a ‘J’...I wish I could recall the whole name.”  
  
“Was it a used or new book?”  
  
“Definitely used.”  
  
Benedict went through the books already in the cart.  “Well, at least we know it’s a cookbook.”  
  
 _What in the hell is he talking about?_  
  
Donna nonchalantly poked through the books that Benedict had placed in the cart while he was bending down to get more.    
  
 _Ah, they are all cookbooks!  I’m saved!  I found an oddball among the cookbooks!_  
  
Then she sneaked a peek at him as he was rummaging around in the books.  
  
 _God, that perfect butt of his sure is distracting...in AND out of clothes. He’s also wearing plain black socks today. I like how he made sure I saw them. He’s such a cutie. Ha ha ha._  
  
Benedict straightened up suddenly, as Donna quickly averted her eyes and bent down to pick up more books.     
  
 _Was she staring at my bum?  I think she may have been,_ Benedict thought with amusement.  _I’m flattered but don’t understand what she finds so fucking fascinating about it._  
  
“Donna, what did the cover look like?”  
  
 _Holy hell!  Now I understand why his parents call him Barrister Ben.  He’s not going to let this go.  Let’s see...what could I tell him? Well, Benedict, there was a photo of a dominatrix dressed in a black leather bustier, holding a red rose between her teeth and a riding crop over her lover, whose body was covered with rose petals, blood smears and small chocolate hearts for Valentine’s Day – not to mention his huge erection. Hmmm....is lover the right word? Probably not. Customer? I think it’s customer.  I don’t want to lie to him outright..._  
  
Donna put the last of the books onto the cart.

“I definitely recall roses and chocolate hearts.  I’m pretty sure it had to do with Valentine’s Day.”  
  
Benedict pushed the cart over to the shelves, while Donna climbed onto the stepladder.  Once she was on the top step, he began to hand her books.  
  
“Keep the piles short, that way there’s no chance of them falling again,” suggested Benedict.  “Oooo! Now, here’s an interesting title:  How to Fall in Love with Fish All Over Again.”  
  
Donna found herself laughing as Benedict read some of more amusing book titles to her.

“Some of these are a hoot!  I don’t think the authors are taking into consideration how ludicrous they sound.”  
  
She heard Benedict giggle behind her and cough.

“I do believe we’re done with cookbooks for the time being.”  
  
Donna put her hands on her hips and surveyed the books she had carefully stacked.

“Really?  It seemed like there were a lot more than this.”  
  
Benedict held out two books to her.  “What I meant was there are no more cookbooks...now we seem to be into a..... different area.”  
  
“Let’s see which area we’re in,” mused Donna as she accepted the books from him.  She almost dropped them as she read the titles aloud.  “Sex for One.  Anal Sex for Beginners.  Advanced Karma Sutra Positions.  Jesus.”  
  
“We’re both adults.  There’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” Benedict smiled up at her, his eyes carefully studying her face for her reaction.  
  
Donna was suddenly aware of how near to her Benedict was standing. She could feel the heat radiate off his body.    
  
 _I thought he said he’s always cold. I certainly can feel the warmth from him. I love when he lowers his voice like that...all silky and sexy sounding._  
  
Donna glanced at him and caught herself fluttering her eyelashes at him.

“I absolutely agree with you. Sex doesn’t make me uncomfortable at all.”    
  
 _Did I just bat my eyelashes at him?  From the expression on his face, I didn’t manage to achieve a neutral expression.  I hate when he watches me so closely like that.  It’s like he knows what I’m thinking.  He knows my thoughts are less than pure._  
  
Donna felt her cheeks getting hot.  
  
“Sex is a normal and very enjoyable part of life,” Benedict commented, as he held her gaze.  
  
Donna noticed his voice had dropped a bit more.  It sounded almost husky. His pupils were slightly dilated.  He moistened his lips with his tongue.  
  
 _Yes, and I want to enjoy that part of life with him!  Jesus, does this man realize how I just want to push him down onto that couch and ravish him to hell and back?  I am so hot right now.  It’s that damn voice of his....and he smells so nice._  
  
“That it is. It’s very, very enjoyable,” Donna replied with a slight smile.  She cleared her throat and held out her hands to him for more books.  “Find any other interesting titles?”  
  
Benedict shuffled through the remaining books.  
  
“Here’s a funny one:  How to Put That Spark Back in Your Love Life Using Electricity.  Christ, I don’t know if I like the sound of that one,” Benedict laughed merrily.  “How about this one:  Mutual Masturbation Made Easy.  I, for one, never found that particularly difficult, but who am I to judge?  What do you think? Wait!  This is the best one yet:  Achieving Mutual Orgasm in a Sex Swing...in small letters below the title:  This is Nothing Like Your Kids Swing.  Can you imagine putting one of those up and then the ceiling caves in?”  Benedict held his sides as he laughed.  
  
 _Oh, Lord. Imagine being at his mercy in a sex swing.... I’m going to die right here among the books if Benedict keeps reading me these titles.  He’s really getting a kick out of them.  He’s apparently taken part in mutual masturbation...actually he seems pretty unfazed with this.  His face shows no signs of being embarrassed.  I guess he’s fairly comfortable with his sexuality, which is a good thing._  
  
“Donna?”  
  
 _I bet he has sex with the lights on and the covers off.  Gosh, I bet he’s a real devil in bed.  I wonder what he looks like when he comes completely undone?  I’d love to see his face – all sweaty and pink.  I wonder if he’s a moaner?  I bet he is. I bet he holds nothing back. My face is burning and my panties feel a bit damp.  I need to check them. I hope they have a bathroom._  
  
“Donna?”  
  
 _I’m certainly not a prude.  I shouldn’t worry that he’ll think I’m loose.  I need to relax and joke with him.  I actually like that I could talk to him about sex and not feel embarrassed. That’s the key to great sex – being comfortable enough to talk to each other about it._  
  
“Umm..Donna?  Can you hear me?”  
  
Suddenly, she felt him gently shake her arm. She blinked and looked into his ice blue eyes.  There was concern in them, and the pupils were no longer dilated.  
  
“Did I make you uncomfortable?  I’ll stop reading the titles.”  
  
“No. Not at all.  Like you said – we’re adults and can certainly appreciate adult humor.”  She laughed and noted he visually relaxed.  
  
“Good. I’m glad to hear that. Anyway, I think I found the book you wanted.  It has roses and chocolate and a very...ahem...aroused-looking gentleman.”  
  
She looked at his outstretched hand.  The title on the spine of the book made her sputter and start to choke:  
  
 **"Spicy Holiday Sex Tips From a Dominatrix"**  
  
  
Their eyes met and locked.  
  
His eyes twinkled with good humour.  
  
Her eyes registered panic.  
  
 _That’s the book!  The look on her face is priceless.  She didn’t want me to know.  I bet she’s quite the sweet and spicy one in bed....just like my fantasies.  Maybe I could coax her to do that to me on Valentine’s Day...if we were to wind up together. Though I think I would pass on the blood letting.  I wonder what the Christmas Chapter is about?  If it has anything to do with elf lingerie and candy canes, I’m going to be all over her. Benedict felt a slight tightening in the crotch of his jeans.  For fuck’s sake – now is not the time for a hard-on!  I need to distract myself for a bit._  
  
 _He knows it’s the book.  Damn him!  He’s really getting into playing Sherlock Holmes.  I need to act like a grown woman and take it in my stride.  There’s nothing wrong in my wanting to read this book.  It’s not like I plan to hit him with a riding crop...yet...if he keeps asking me nosy questions, I may have to reconsider.  Donna paused in her thoughts as her gaze wandered over and focused on Benedict’s crotch. Well, well, is that a bit of a  bulge I see in his jeans?_  
  
 _Motherfucker!  She just looked at my crotch.  She knows I’m getting turned on._  
  
Benedict blushed and looked up at the shelf.  “I think you’ve piled the books as high as you safely can.  Let’s switch places.”  
  
Donna took the book from him and smiled at him.  “Thanks for finding the book, Benedict.  I’ve read many good reviews of it and think it would make a fascinating read – just not before bed,” she giggled.  
  
“Will you lend it to me when you’re done?” he asked as he got up on the step ladder.  
  
“Of course.”  
  
Donna picked up the last of the books and the title of the top one made her titter.  
  
“Find a funny one?”  Benedict asked as he straightened some of the books on the shelf.    
  
“Oh yeah, the top one,” Donna replied as she placed the books in his hands.  
  
Benedict read the title:  
  
 **"How Best to Hide an Inconvenient Erection"**  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Thank you to lovely reader, Ella, for planting the idea to have Donna explore the realm of being a dominatrix in an upcoming chapter. 
> 
> 2\. Anyone catch the Sherlock references?
> 
> 3\. All the books titles mentioned are a figment of my over-active imagination. 
> 
> 4\. The book store is partially modeled after one I visited in Washington DC, and one in New York City. Donna knocking over all the books is based on a real life incident where a woman in the Washington DC bookstore was too stubborn to let my husband get her book, and they all came tumbling down around us.


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Benedict gets a surprise he hadn’t counted on while in Barrister Ben mode. Donna and Benedict do a little verbal dancing at dinner. Timothy sends Donna a photo of Benedict. James offers dating advice to Benedict.

  
  
Benedict Cumberbatch silently congratulated himself that in spite of an avalanche of books, it looked as if he and Donna Saint James would arrive at Maggie Jones’ on time for their late lunch booking.  He was even more pleased to find that the rain had let up upon exiting the Kensington High Street tube station.  
  
“I love the quaintness of this area,” remarked Donna as they walked along the wet pavement towards the restaurant.  “Is this close to where you grew up?”  
  
“Yeah.  My parents’ flat is less than a five minute walk from here,” replied Benedict.  “They bought the top floor of a mews house for three thousand pounds before I was born back in the early seventies.  It wasn’t the best area, but it was what they could comfortably afford at the time.”  
  
“How big is it?”  
  
“There’s just enough room for the three of us. It has two bedrooms, one bath, combination lounge/dining room, small eat-in kitchen.  Most importantly, it has a small garage and access to the rooftop.  It has the most amazing view of Kensington.  You can see the Palace and the gardens. We tend to treat it as our own private terrace,” Benedict said with a fond smile.  
  
 “Sounds very much like your typical New York apartment.  It’s hard to believe this was once a downtrodden area.  Everything looks so prosperous and trendy.”  
  
“Trust me.  It wasn’t be nicest or safest neighborhood. Fortunately, Kensington has come a long way since then.  My parents could now get quite a substantial sum for their flat if they were to sell it, especially with the lift and garage.”  
  
“Have they considered moving?” Donna asked.  
  
“Nope. They wouldn’t think of leaving. My mum loves that flat so much that  she hasn’t even changed the wallpaper since they moved in.”    
  
 _Not the brightest comment, Benedict.  Now she’ll think Mum let the place get run down inside._  
  
“It’s not that she let it get run down or anything like that at all. My mum hasn’t redecorated because she’s happy with the way it looks – I mean everything is very clean...it’s just that...”  
  
“She’s confident in her sense of style and sees no need to change it.  That’s a good thing. My mom’s the complete opposite,” lamented Donna. “She loves nothing more than to redecorate the house.  She does one room at a time.  It always seems like the house is in a perpetual state of reconstruction. One of her best friends is an interior designer, so that doesn’t help.  There have been times when I thought I was in a stranger’s home.”  
  
Donna watched as Benedict shifted the shopping bags full of books they had bought from one hand to the other.  He had refused several times to allow her to carry the heavy bags.  
  
 _His hands must hurt by now!  I wish he’d give in and at least let me carry my own.  I’ll give it another try._  
  
“How about letting me carry one?  You’ve been schlepping them around all afternoon, Benedict.  I don’t feel it’s right.  Your hands must hurt like hell by now.”  
  
“Absolutely not. They’re too heavy for you to carry. Please stop worrying about my hands - they are fine.  Really.  I’ve had plenty of opportunities to set them down. Besides, we’re almost there,” said Benedict.  “We make a left at the church and then another right at the next corner.”  
  
“I always keep a map in my handbag. There are so many twisty streets and lanes in London that I get lost easily.  I’m used to Manhattan’s grid...unless I’m all the way Downtown, then all bets are off.  Even I need a map,” Donna laughed as she looked up at the building to see what street they were on.  “I’m still getting used to the street signs being on the buildings here.”  
  
They rounded the corner and Donna almost stopped dead in her tracks as she recognized the block they were on.  
  
 _I know where we are!  James and I were in this area just last night._  
  
“Here we are! Maggie Jones. They serve some of the best food in Kensington.”  
  
Benedict was pointing to a familiar brick building with a bright blue painted storefront.  There were window boxes with colorful flowers and the sign above the door identified it as Maggie Jones’ Restaurant.  
  
 _This is where James took me to dinner last night.  Oh no....I hope no one remembers me._  
  
Benedict opened the door for Donna, who passed through into the restaurant just as the rain started up again.  She found the decor with all the dried flowers, rustic furnishings and decorations quite charming.  The atmosphere was even darker and cozier in the gloom of the rainy afternoon.  The woman at the podium was busy on the phone taking a reservation. Donna immediately recognized her.  
  
 _Oh, shit!  It’s the same woman from last night.  She knew James, and they were joking around.  He even introduced me as his date.  I hope to God that Benedict isn’t known here._    
  
Donna managed to stand behind Benedict, so the woman wouldn’t notice her right away.  
  
 _I bet they get so many people in here that she’s not going to recognize me from last night.  Today I’ve got my hair back in a ponytail, so I look a bit different. I hope. Perhaps I could scoot past her to the restroom and join Benedict at the table, so she won’t see me._  
  
The woman rang off and literally beamed at Benedict.  They exchanged a hug and kisses on both cheeks.  
  
“Hello, Millie.  You’re looking lovely as always.”  
  
“Benedict!  How nice to see you! Here for Sunday lunch with your parents?”  
  
 _Just my luck!  He’s a regular._  
  
“No.  I’m here with a date,” Benedict replied as he turned towards Donna. “Donna, this is Millie, the proprietor of this fine establishment.”  
  
Millie hesitated for a moment and smiled at Donna with recognition.  “Well, it’s nice to see you again!  You know you’re doing something right when you get repeat customers.”  She gave Donna a wink when Benedict wasn’t looking.  
  
Donna smiled at the older woman.  “You certainly are.  I was raving about it in an email to friends this morning.”  
  
Benedict and Donna exchanged looks.  Benedict barely lifted an eyebrow at her.  Donna quickly lowered her eyes and studied her shoes.  
  
 _I’m busted.  She remembered me from last night.  James introduced me the same way. She must think I’m dating all the single men in Kensington.  With my luck, I’ll get the same waiters, too. I hope she doesn’t say anything else._  
  
The night before, Donna and James were seated upstairs at a small wrought iron table in a corner.  Their table was by a window which overlooked the street. Donna liked that the table was set a bit away from the others, so there was a sense of privacy.  The food had been wonderful, the waiters had been lots of fun; and she had enjoyed James’ company greatly.  
  
Benedict noticed that Donna suddenly seemed uncomfortable and preoccupied with her shoes.  
  
 _Seems Miss Saint James has been here before.  Normally, I would assume it was to do a review, but she’s acting odd. If I didn’t know better, I’d say Donna wanted Millie to shut up and stop talking._  
  
Millie consulted the floor plan and nodded to herself as she used a magic marker to place an X over a square that represented a table.  Then she smiled at Donna.    
  
“Let’s see… last night you were upstairs, so how about sitting down here for a change?  I have a nice little booth in the back,” Millie said, picking up two menus and leading the way to a small dining area in the rear of the restaurant. There were four booths with seating made from tall church pews.  “It’s nice to have some privacy on a date.”  She winked at them.  
  
Benedict frowned slightly as he helped Donna off with her raincoat.    
  
 _Last night?  Donna was here just last night? Who was she here with? Perhaps she really was working or out with friends. Surely, Millie would’ve mentioned friends.  I need to find out more about this._  
  
 _Thank you, Millie, for letting the cat out of the bag.  Now, Benedict knows I was here last night.  I’ll bet that I get to see Barrister Ben in action before our orders are placed._  
  
“How are your parents, Benedict?” Millie asked as they got settled in the booth. “I haven’t seen them in awhile.”  
  
“They’re fine.  Both of them have been working, so their hours are kind of odd.  They’ve also been spending their weekends in Gloucestershire recently.”  
  
 _Oooo maybe they’re making movies or a TV show!  What could be in Gloucestershire? wondered Donna as she arranged her raincoat and handbag beside her on the bench._  
  
“Give them my best.  Enjoy your lunch,” Millie said, patting Benedict on the shoulder.  Then she not-so-subtlety poked Donna with her elbow, winked and returned to the front of the house.  
  
 _I guess she approves that I’m dating two men at the same time. Good thing Benedict and James don’t know each other.  I couldn’t even imagine what would happen if they did and found out I was dating them both._  
  
 _Well, Millie, good thing you’re not in the spying business.  I caught the wink-nudge to Donna.  What in the fuck was that all about? I’ll burst if I don’t find out, but  I must be careful as to how I approach this._  
  
Donna glanced across the table at Benedict, who appeared to be deeply engrossed in the one-page menu.  Donna noticed that he was rubbing his thigh and biting his lower lip.  
  
 _Benedict’s never been this quiet.  He looks a bit...agitated? He’s definitely not happy.  Maybe he suspects. He’s dying to know why I was here and who I was with last night.  Shall I tell him that I had a date?  There’s nothing wrong with that. After all it’s the truth.  It’s not like we’re in a committed relationship. I’m allowed to date more than one person at the same time._  
  
“Everything sounds so good.  I can’t decide between the pork or the roast beef. Which would you recommend?” Donna ventured in order to break the silence.  
  
Benedict pursed his lips and put down his menu.  He looked mildly peeved as he leaned back in the booth.  
  
“Why didn’t you tell me you were only here last night?”  
  
 _Ah, the cross examination begins...I’m going to do my best to make light of this. I definitely don’t want to get into an argument with him._  
  
“I didn’t know it was a _requirement_ to tell your date your whereabouts the previous evening!” Donna said with mock indignation. “Is this something new in the book of dating rules that I’ve missed?” She demurely rearranged her napkin on her lap.  
  
Benedict noted the touch of sarcasm in her voice. He didn’t laugh.  Instead he casually drummed his fingers on the edge of the table.  
  
“We could have gone someplace else, Donna.  Why would you want to eat the same food two days in a row?”  
  
 _He’s being serious.  He doesn’t find me funny. I’ll stick to the truth as he needs to know it._  
  
“I didn’t know this was where you made the reservation, Benedict.  How would I know that, unless you told me -  which you didn’t.  I didn’t say anything because it doesn’t matter to me if I eat here two nights in a row.  I enjoyed the food and the atmosphere fascinates me. I’ll have something different – the menu has plenty of choices.”    
  
Benedict sat stoically, drumming his fingertips on the table.  He returned his gaze to the menu.  
  
 _Okay.  He’s still in pout mode.  Let me try to cheer him up again._    
  
Donna leaned across the table and whispered, “I would hate to be the one who has to dust all this stuff!”  She pointed discretely to all the bric-a-brac on the walls and hanging from the ceiling and giggled.  “Can you imagine?  It must take the poor person hours!”  
  
Benedict’s ice blue eyes bore into her.  His fingers stopped drumming.  
  
“Were you doing a review?”  
  
 _Crap! The cross examination continues....I can’t joke my way out of this. It’s really none of his damn business.  I need to put a stop to this now or he’ll be doing it all the time to me._  
  
“No, Benedict. I wasn’t working.  I was on a date, if you must know – and it seems you must - and this is where he chose to take me.  I’m sorry if it wasn’t okay with you, but I am free to date other people.”  
  
Benedict’s handsome face registered both shock and surprise at her words.  
  
 _Christ!  Stab me in the heart, why don’t you? What a cheeky little thing she is.  It never dawned on me that she would date two men at the same time. I wonder who the prick is and what he’s like._  
  
“Of course you’re free to date whomever you please.  My personal preference is to date one person at a time.  I like being able to concentrate on someone and really get to know them,” Benedict commented stiffly as he made sure his silverware was perfectly aligned with the edge of the table.  
  
 _Oh, don’t try and make me feel guilty, Benedict.  It’s not going to work._  
  
“Well, _I’ve_ done it and haven’t had any trouble,” countered Donna. “People do it all the time!”  
  
Benedict pondered the placement of his butter knife.  “Frankly, I don’t know how you can keep us both straight.”  
  
 _Oh, no!  He’s fishing for information on James.  He looks so sad and even a tad jealous.  I guess he actually thought I was only going out with him.  I don’t want to hurt him.  Now, he’s making me feel guilty. It’s hard to stay cross at him for long._  
  
“If it makes you feel better, Benedict, I only went out with him once.  I’ve now gone out with you three times. And before you say anything, I consider the night we met our first date.”  She smiled warmly at him and reached out to pat his hand in consolation.  
  
 _Gosh, I like him so much.  I can’t bear to see him like this....but I like James, too. He’s such a fun little ball of energy!  I just don’t know him as well as Benedict. I’m not going to stop seeing James because Benedict doesn’t approve.  I want to see if anything develops between us.  If it’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s keep your options open._  
  
Benedict sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.  “I owe you an apology, Donna.  I overstepped my bounds.  You have every right to date whomever you please.”  
  
Donna rose and went to sit beside him in the booth.  She turned sideways and gazed deeply into his eyes.

“I really like you alot, Benedict.  I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”  
  
“I really like you alot, too, Donna.”  His voice was low and throaty as he traced her lips with his fingertips.  
  
 _I just hate that you went out with someone else.  I’m jealous of someone I don’t even know.  He could be a really nice chap.  I have to push these feelings aside and concentrate on the time we have together._  
  
 _I wish he could just take me now.  Right here in this damn booth. This man just oozes sexuality and seems barely aware of it._  
  
Benedict impulsively leaned in to give Donna a slow, gentle kiss on the lips.  Donna gently pressed her lips to his and felt him part his lips just a bit.  She added some pressure and slightly parted her lips. The tips of their tongues tentatively touched, then flicked against each other.  
  
 _My God…this feels heavenly.  I wish I could take it a little further, but we’re in public,_ Thought Benedict.  _She always tastes like peppermint – just like in my Christmas dream._  
  
 _He tastes like those chocolate mints he always has. His lips are so soft and smooth._  
  
“Mmmm...I could kiss you all day,” Donna murmured as they broke the kiss. “You put so much feeling into your kisses…”  
  
“I feel the same way,” he breathed.  “It’s like a drug I can’t get enough of.”  
  
 _What did I just tell him?_  
  
 _She feels something for me._  
  
 _He feels the same way._  
  
Benedict reached up and touched her cheek with his thumb and gently caressed it.  Donna brought up her hand to cover his. Benedict’s hooded ice blue eyes studied her closely.  
  
“I think you better return to your side of the table or I’m afraid I may snog you senseless,” he said in a husky voice.  
  
Donna leaned closer to him and lowered her voice as she moved her hand to run her index finger over his Cupid’s bow lips.

“Oh, I’m not afraid at all. Maybe after lunch you can come back to my place, and you can continue to...what did you call it?”  
  
“Snogging.”  Benedict could feel his trousers getting tight in the crotch at the thought.  
  
 _Perhaps I should have bought that book.  I need to calm down. Maybe a drink._  
  
“Snogging,” repeated Donna thoughtfully.  “That’s a cute term,” she said as she got up and sat down on her side of the table.  “It sounds so much nicer than.....”  
  
“Good Afternoon!  I’m Jimmy, and I’ll be your server!” said a cheerful young dark-haired man as he placed a ceramic bowl of pickled vegetables and a small plate of butter on the table.  “Hey Benedict, mate!  How are things? Where are Mum and Dad?”  
  
Donna felt a flash of panic. _Oh, fuck.  It’s the same waiter as last night. I have the worst luck._  
  
“It’s nice to see you, Jimmy.  Everything’s fine.  My parents are on their own today,” replied Benedict.  
  
“Tell ‘em I send regards then.  Now, what can I get you to drink?”  Suddenly, he did a double take as he recognized Donna.  “Well, hello again, Love! Remember me? I took care of you and your....,” he looked at Benedict quizzically. “…Friend last night!”  
  
 _Double fuck.  Not only does he remember me, but he remembers that I wasn’t alone.  At least he referred to James as a friend._  
  
Donna smiled.  “Yes, I do remember you and your awesome service.”  
  
Jimmy actually blushed.  “You’re too kind, Love!  How about something to drink then?  I could get you that special Pimms cocktail you had last night.  Same bartender’s on duty; so between both of us, we’re sure to remember what was in it.”  
  
 _What an excellent memory he has, bless his little heart.  Just what I don’t need._ “I think I’ll have some still water,” said Donna.    
  
“Same for me,” added Benedict.  “Maybe a large carafe would also be a good idea.”

Donna fixed Benedict with a look, which he pretended to ignore.  
  
“Have you made up your minds?  We pretty much just do roasts on Sundays,” said Jimmy.  
  
 _Let’s see if he’ll discuss food now,_ Donna sighed to herself.  
  
“What are you thinking of having, Benedict?  I was looking at the roast beef.”  
  
“You had the filet mignon last night, Love.  Perhaps you should consider the roast stuffed chicken,” commented Jimmy, pointing to the item on the menu.  
  
Benedict ignored the waiter and looked at Donna. “The roast beef’s my favorite.”  Then he smiled at Jimmy.  “We’ll both have the three-course roast beef set please.”  
  
“You can never go wrong with our roast beef.  It’s always juicy and rare. Now, you both need to pick a starter,” continued Jimmy.  “The soup of the day is beef barley – just right for a cold, rainy day.”  
  
Donna pondered the menu for a minute as Jimmy looked over her shoulder.  
  
“You had the rocket salad last night, Love. Try something different.”  
  
 _Good gravy...he’s going to remind me of everything I had last night._  
  
“Hmmm...I think I’ll try the Stilton mousse.”  
  
“That’s exactly what I would have picked,” said Jimmy with a grin of approval.  “It’s outrageous. Have you had it recently, Mate?” he asked Benedict.  
  
“Yeah.  I’ve had it many times and can vouch for it being absolutely delicious,” replied Benedict.  
  
“Are you going to have one, too, then?”  
  
“I’ll have the venison terrine,” said Benedict. “It’s good to change things up sometimes.”  
  
Another young man appeared beside Jimmy holding a large basket of fresh-baked breads.  He looked as if he could have been his twin.

“Hi I’m Gary!  I’m here to help ole’ Jimmy out. May I offer you some hot bread? Just out of the oven. We have white and granary today.”  
  
 _Oh, no!  I remember him from last night, too! They apparently work as a team._  
  
“Granary, please,” replied Donna quietly, trying not to make eye contact.  
  
Gary stared at Donna.  “Weren’t you here last night? Your hair was down.”  
  
“Yeah, but she was with a different bloke,” laughed Jimmy as he headed back to the kitchen to place the order.  Then he stopped and placed his hands on his hips to address Donna, “....unless you’re one of those restaurant reviewers who’s back for another go at us.”  
  
 _Good Lord!  I really hope Benedict doesn’t say anything about what I do. I want to come back here and do a review._  
  
Benedict let out a loud laugh – much louder than normal.  He looked like he had a secret he was dying to share.  Donna gave him a look, and he quickly composed himself.  
  
“I was on a date last night....same as tonight,” clarified Donna.  “Maybe I’ll try a slice of the white bread, too.”  
  
“Jolly good, love! I remember last night you stuck to the Granary.  The white’s excellent, too,” Gary giggled as he placed two slices of bread on Donna’s plate and patted her on the shoulder.  He leaned close to her ear and whispered, “Juggling two men at once, bless you!  If my late Gran were here – may she rest in peace – she’d tell you that it’s always good to have a spare man in case one goes wonky on you!”  
  
Donna felt her cheeks burning and put her head down.  She wanted to crawl under the table.  Then she heard Benedict chuckle quietly.  
  
“So, uh, could you please pass your spare man the butter?”

  
  
  
  
  
Timothy Carlton entered the lounge to find Wanda still working on the computer.  
  
“Isn’t this where I left you?”  
  
Wanda looked up.  “Yes, it is.  Did you have a nice lie down?”  
  
“Excellent!  I feel like a new man.  Have you made any progress?”  
  
“I sure have!  I’ve gone through a lot of Ben’s photos from our collection and found a couple that will work.  I just had to do a bit of cropping.”  
  
Timothy pulled up a chair.  “Can I see?”  
  
“Of course!  I’d love your opinion,” replied Wanda.  “Let me show you the originals first.”  
  
Timothy watched as she opened up a window to show a photo of Benedict sitting on a bench beside James Rhodes in Hyde Park.    
  
“He looks good there,” observed Timothy.  “You’ll have to do a lot of cropping to get rid of James’ arm from around Ben’s shoulders.”  
  
Wanda frowned.  “I know.  I spent half an hour trying to edit that photo, but I think it came out well.  It’s down below. See the tabs labeled Ben Park1, Ben Park2 – those are the ones.  I saved four different versions.”  
  
Timothy nodded as Wanda opened each one so he could study her handiwork.  “I must say you’ve done a remarkable job, Darling.  I’d never know that James was originally sitting next to Ben. You could safely send any of these.”  
  
“Now, the other one is my favorite of the two.  It’s Ben at Adam’s wedding.”  
  
Timothy looked at the original.  The photo showed Benedict and Adam standing side-by-side at the altar of the church, dressed in formal wedding attire.  Benedict had served as Adam’s best man.  
  
“Oh, I do like this one, Wanda.  It should be easy to crop Adam out as they aren’t touching.”  
  
“They’re on the bottom under the tabs marked Ben Wedding.  I even made a couple of Adam alone to send to Alice.  He looked so handsome that day.  I’m sure she’ll appreciate them.”  
  
Timothy kissed her cheek.  “That’s very kind of you.”    
  
The phone rang and Timothy got up to answer it.  He brought the cordless phone over to Wanda.

“It’s Tracy.  She has very exciting news to share with you.”  
  
“I wonder what it could be.  Did she tell you?” asked Wanda as she closed the open photo tabs.  
  
Timothy held his hand over the mouthpiece. “Of course, but she wants to tell you herself.”  
  
Wanda smiled, took the phone and got up.  “Bet you five quid Derrick got another promotion. I’m going to take this in the bedroom and have a lie down afterwards.  Would you do me a favor and send one of the wedding photos I cropped to Donna Saint James?  The email is in the drafts, all you have to do is attach one of the photos – I think the second wedding one is the best – and send it off to her.”  
  
Timothy went into the kitchen and poured himself two fingers of his single-malt Talisker whiskey over ice.  Then he sat in the chair Wanda had vacated and located the email in the drafts folder.  He hit ‘add attachment’ and looked at all the picture files his wife had made.  
  
 _Bloody hell, there’s so many of them.  I’m not going to sit here and open each one.  She said to send the second one, but that one’s named Ben Wedding 4.  She had to have meant the second one she did in that group, not the second file._  
  
Timothy Carlton selected the photo marked Ben Wedding 2, hit ‘open’ and emailed Adam Ackland’s wedding photo to Donna Saint James.  

  
  
  
  
  
“The Stilton mousse was delicious,” remarked Donna after the remains of their starters had been cleared away.  “You haven’t steered me wrong yet, Benedict. You have a good palate.”  
  
“I’ve always enjoyed good food, I have my mum to thank for that,” said Benedict, helping himself to some of the pickled carrots and radishes.  “She happens to be a brilliant cook; and yes, I’m definitely biased.”  
  
“Just a little,” laughed Donna.  
  
“Her rule was that I had to try everything.  There was no coddling at our dinner table.  I ate whatever was put in front of me without bitching.  She taught me to appreciate everything – even offal.”  
  
Donna started to laugh.  “I admire that!  My mother is the exact opposite of yours.  She runs a diner.  My dad and brother can be very picky eaters, so she caters to their likes and dislikes.  It’s just ridiculous.  Some nights she would cook three different meals!  Lucky for her Carly and I ate everything.”  
  
“That would never happen in my house,” smirked Benedict.  “I remember one night my best friend, Adam, stayed for dinner; and Mum made chicken livers.  He started to whine and make faces, and Mum said ever-so-pleasantly:  Oh, but you haven’t had chicken livers like mine yet!  You must give them a try – one mouthful; and if you don’t like it, that’s fine.”  
  
Donna laughed at Benedict’s imitation of his mother.  
  
 _Gosh, his imitation reminds me so much of somebody I know, but who?_  
  
“What did Adam do?”  
  
“Well, he would never even consider making a fuss, so he soldiered on and took a taste.  Then he took another one.  He now eats it – but only the way my mum prepares it.”  
  
“And how is that?”  
  
“She fries up Spanish onions, white mushrooms and lots of streaky bacon.  The bacon has to be a bit crispy. Then she adds a splash of  sherry wine vinegar to take out that funky taste liver can have.  She serves it on a bed of wild rice.  It’s actually quite tasty.”  
  
“That does sound good.”  
  
Benedict took a sip of water and steeled himself.    
  
“Are you free Tuesday night, Donna?”  
  
 _Oh no.  That’s the night of James’ concert. I’ve already committed to him._  
  
Benedict noticed a flash of genuine disappointment cross her pretty face.  
  
“I’m so sorry, Benedict; but I have plans Tuesday night.”  
  
 _Shit! I guess that bastard beat me to it.  Damn whoever he is._  
  
“However, I’m free the rest of the week,” she added with an encouraging smile.  
  
Benedict thought for a moment and pulled a folded sheet of paper out of his trousers pocket.  He spread it out on the table and studied it closely.  Donna could see that it had been typed, but there were hand-written notes all over it. 

“I’ve got rehearsals tomorrow and Tuesday.  Wednesday and Thursday we’re filming.  I’m off Friday, so how about Thursday night?  I’m not in all the scenes, so I should finish early.  We could catch a film and then go to a pub.”

 _Holy shit!  That's how he keeps track of his work schedule?_  
  
“I’d love that!  I haven’t been to many pubs.”  
  
“How about you pick the film then, and I’ll pick the pub?”  
  
“Is there any particular film you’d like to see, Benedict?”  
  
“Nope.  I’m easy.”  He drank some water.  
  
Donna raised an eyebrow at him.  “Oh, really now?”  
  
“Christ!  I meant to say easy to please.”  
  
 _No, I lie. I can be a very easy lay, especially when it’s been so long since I’ve been laid._  
  
Donna raised both eyebrows at him and began to giggle.  “I get the message.  You’re easy _AND_ easy to please.  I promise not to forget.”  
  
 _What I wouldn’t give to show you how I’d like to please certain parts of you right now._  
  
Benedict rolled his eyes. “Stop that!  I think I’ve been hanging around with you too much.  You’re a bad influence on me, Donna Saint James.  I’m starting to spout double entendres!”    
  
“I’ll try and curtail it. I would never want to be a bad influence on you.”  
  
“Heavens, no!  I don’t want you to change.  Your accidental double entendres are one of the many things that I find so charming about you, Donna.”  
  
He reached out and covered her tiny hand with his.  It felt so comfortable, as if he had been doing it for years.  He rubbed his finger over the heart-shaped ruby ring on her right hand that he had been curious about.  
  
“Your ring is very pretty,” Benedict commented with a casual air.  
  
 _Oh, he wants to know who gave me the ring, and what it signifies.  He gets an ‘A’ for effort._  
  
“My parents gave it to me for my sixteenth birthday.”  
  
“Your birthday is in July then?”  
  
“No.  It’s in November.  November 20th.  Why?”  
  
“Rubies are the birthstone for July.”  
  
“Topaz is my birthstone.  I just happen to love rubies, though, so they gave me a ruby ring instead. You’re very knowledgeable about birthstones, Mr. Cumberbatch.”  
  
“Not really.  I just happen to know that rubies are the birthstone for July because my birthday is in July.”  
  
“Ah, so you have a birthday coming up next month?”  
  
“Yes, on the nineteenth.  My thirty-third.”  
  
 _He’s hoping I’ll now tell him my age.  I’ve nothing to hide._  
  
“I’ll be thirty in November.”  
  
Benedict nodded and ate some bread.  Donna spread her slice of granary with butter and munched on it.  
  
 _I’ll make a note of his birthday when I get home. Now, it’s time to get back on track.  How he loves to wander off topic.  What was the name of that movie Dad just reviewed?  He actually liked it. Ah, yes – now I remember it._  
  
“How about we try and see the _Taking of Pelham 1-2-3_ with Denzel Washington and John Travolta?  My dad saw it and recommended it.”  
  
 _To me and all his readers....it was one of the few movies he didn’t find too many faults with so far this year._  
  
“That would be fine,” said Benedict.  “Would you excuse me for a moment?”

  
  
  
  
  
Benedict used the loo, washed his hands and took out his mobile.  He rang up his pal, James Rhodes, who answered on the first ring.    
  
 _“Hello, Ben.  I thought you were on a date?”_  
  
“I am.  I’m in the loo at Maggie Jones.”  
  
 _“This is why I love you so – your willingness to share everything with me.  Even your need to take a wee. I hope it comes out well.”_  
  
“Let me finish you wanker.  I don’t have much time!”  
  
 _“I’m all ears.”_  
  
“I’m not bothering you?”  
  
 _“Well...yes and no to be honest.”_  
  
“And you have the bollocks to call me indecisive?”  
  
 _“I was practicing, so yes you interrupted me in that regard.  However, I was getting knackered; so I was about to take a break.  So, in the end - no, you’re not bothering me.”_  
  
Benedict could hear the sound of a match being striked as James lit a cigarette.  
  
“I wanted to tell you that I won’t be needing the extra concert ticket.”  
  
 _“Your pretty girl rebuffed you then?”_  
  
“She’s got plans.”  
  
 _“In other words she’s got a date with someone else?”_  
  
“Exactly.”  
  
 _“That fucking sucks.  You know for sure?”_  
  
“Yeah. She told me she was seeing someone else.  Probably some dumb fuck not worthy of her time.”  
  
 _“I’m sure you’re right, but now you have to prove to her that you’re better than the dumb fuck is and worthy of her affections.”_  
  
“True.”  
  
 _“Ben?”_  
  
“What?”  
  
 _“Um..this is where you’re supposed to say:  what am I to do, Jimmy?”_  
  
“Don’t have to. I know exactly what you would say.”  
  
 _“You do?”_  
  
“I do.  Allow me to put your knackered little mind at ease. I already asked her out for another night.  We’ve got a date Thursday.”  
  
 _“Why in the fuck did you call me then?”_  
  
“I missed the sound of your voice.”  
  
 _“I think you’re a totally insecure dick who really values and wants my advice.”_  
  
“Let’s not get completely carried away here, shall we?”  
  
 _“Are we having one of those sarcastic chats to nowhere while we wait for you to move your bowels or do you really want my view on this?”_  
  
“I’m going to chalk up your cheekiness to pre-concert nerves.”  
  
 _“It must be. I’m having trouble hearing you though.  Did you want to ask me something, Ben?”_  
  
“I really, really want your opinion.  So, what do you think, Jimmy, asks the insecure dick?”  
  
 _“I think it was a brilliant move – exactly what I would have suggested. You have to make sure you keep inviting her out.  You could ask her over to your place and make her dinner.  You're a right amazing cook – make that chicken dish you’re so good at. I find chocolate fondue is always a hit for pudding.  Show off for her!  Aren’t you recording Cabin Pressure next Sunday?  Invite her to see you act. Your portrayal of Martin Crief is hysterical.  How about a picnic in one of the parks?  All the flowers are in bloom. I can personally vouch for Regents Park, as I took my pretty girl there yesterday.   A boat ride on the Thames is a very romantic thing to do. Cocktails on a rooftop bar.  There are lots of things you can do.   Don’t give this guy a chance to get his foot in the door so to speak.   You don’t want this wanker to get one up on you.”_  
  
“I don’t intend to.”  
  
 _“Good.  I’ll do whatever I can to help.”_  
  
“What do you want me to do with the ticket?”  
  
 _“Return it to will call and put my name on the envelope.  Unless you want to ask someone else?”_  
  
“No.  I don’t want to see anyone else.  I’m over the moon with the way things are going, Jimmy.  She’s very special, and I could very easily fall in love with her.”  
  
 _“You’re making me feel all warm and fuzzy inside, Ben.  I might have to go have a cry when I ring off.”_  
  
“I was just thinking, maybe I’ll ask my niece, Emily, if she wants to go.”  
  
 _“Do it!  Emily’s good company.  Listen, my pretty girl will be there.  She’ll be sitting in the seat next to you.  I told her one of my best friends will be sitting near her; so please introduce yourself.  I know you’re going to like her.  She’s sweet and lovely with a good sense of humour. My heart goes pitter-patter when I’m with her.”_  
  
“Christ....listen to us! How pathetic are we? Two love sick clots!”  
  
 _“I think it’s nice that we’ve both been struck by cupid’s arrow. Anything else I can do for you, Romeo?”_  
  
“You already did.  You listened to me and gave me good advice.”  
  
 _“Don’t forget your vow.”_  
  
“What vow?”  
  
 _“Oh, how soon you forget!  Tsk tsk. The one of celibacy that you took!  I would hate to hear that you stumbled and fell off the wagon into the hay and took a roll in it while you were at it.”_  
  
“I assure you I remain chaste....”  
  
 _“Did you say chaffed, as in too much wanking?  Try some lube next time.”_  
  
“I’m fucking frustrated as hell!  Now bugger off.  I mean it.”  
  
 _“Knowing how horny you always are, I would have expected that by now you would have shamed yourself and broken your vow.”_  
  
“You really love torturing me, don’t you?”  
  
 _“It’s only because you have this lovely knack for bringing it upon yourself!  No matter how bad things get, you always manage to one up me, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart.”_  
  
“I really need to turn on my mouth filter and keep it on.”  
  
 _“That’ll never happen.  You love to blab as much as I do.  See you Tuesday then.  Don’t forget Grand imperial afterwards. We'll all be fat and happy on dim sum.”_  
  
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, Jimmy; and I can’t wait to meet your pretty girl.”  
  


 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. This is my homage to the wacky servers we had at Maggie Jones’. I have not used their real names. They were two of the most laid-back, fun servers I’ve ever had. The food was great there. When my daughter ordered a Pimms Cup, they had a meeting about how to make one. Seems the bar tender wasn't familiar, so they came up with this really tasty concoction.
> 
> 2\. Anyone catch the Cabin Pressure reference?


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Benedict plays spy and is caught. Secrets on both sides are revealed during a tension-filled dessert at Donna’s. There are lots of conflicting emotions in this chapter.

  
Donna Saint James was patiently waiting for Benedict Cumberbatch to return from the restroom, when her text chime went off.  She opened her handbag and saw that it was James Rhodes:  
  
 _How’s your day been?  JR_  
  
 _Exhausting, but fun!  I had a tour of the hidden bookstores of London.  DSJ_  
  
 _If there’s one thing we have an abundance of in London, it’s bookstores.  JR_  
  
 _My tote bag is filled to the brim with my purchases.  DSJ_  
  
 _Hope you left some for other customers to buy!  ;^)   JR_  
  
 _I’m a firm believer in stimulating the economy.  :-D  DSJ_  
  
 _I’m a firm believer in stimulating other things besides the economy. ;^)  JR_  
  
 _Aren’t you supposed to be practicing for your concert?  DSJ_  
  
 _I’m taking a coffee and smoke break.  Bach is giving me a headache, bless him. JR_  
  
 _I don’t have much time.  I’m waiting for my dinner companion to return.  DSJ_  
  
 _I shouldn’t really be taking a break.  LOL   JR_  
  
 _I’m looking forward to Tuesday night!  Is Tim’s son still coming?  DSJ_  
  
 _He’ll be sitting next to you.  Unfortunately, the girl he’s dating couldn’t make it.  JR_  
  
 _Oh, that’s too bad.  Is she sick? DSJ_  
  
 _Apparently, she’s also seeing someone else.  He’s quite smitten with her, and is a little down about it.  He said he’s looking forward to meeting you.  JR_  
  
 _I’m looking forward to meeting him, too.  Don’t worry, I’ll cheer him up!  DSJ_  
  
 _I appreciate it.  He’s a very fine chap.  I know you two will get along famously.  I’ll make sure he sits by us at dinner, too.  JR_  
  
Just then Gary rounded the corner with some heated, empty dinner plates and placed them on the table.  
  
 _I’d better go, James.  I sense dinner is about to be served.  Good luck with Bach!   Sweet dreams.  :-D  DSJ_  
  
 _Of you, I hope.  ;^)  Night!  JR x_  
  
  
  
  
Donna put her phone away and looked up to see Millie, standing there with some extra napkins, which she laid on the table.  
  
“I thought you two might need some extra serviettes. Sunday roasts tend to get messy with all that gravy,” she laughed.  “I’ve seen people actually using their hands....very Henry VIII.”  
  
“Thank you,” said Donna with a smile.  “I’m really looking forward to it.”  
  
“Have you known Benedict long?”  
  
Donna thought she saw the shadow on the wall across from her suddenly disappear with a jerky movement.  It looked like someone had been walking, stopped short and moved back into the shadows.  The profile looked very much like Benedict’s.  
  
“Not very.  We’re still in the getting acquainted stage.”  
  
“He’s such a love, bless him.  Too bad my daughter’s married.  He’s very good to his parents.  Loves children. Such a respectful and hard-working young man.  He would have made a dandy son-in-law.  Any girl who gets him is very lucky.”  
  
 _That almost sounded like an endorsement for Wanda’s want ad.  Ha ha ha!_  
  
Donna smiled.  “He is pretty special.  Something just clicked between us the first night we met.  Benedict is a fine gentleman.  It’s hard to find a man with integrity and fine manners.”  
  
 _He just can’t dress himself for shit sometimes. He looks nice today, though. Must have been a lucky accident._  
  
Millie threw her head back and laughed.  “He’d better have the best manners on earth after his parents spent all that money to send him to bloody Harrow, Love.”  
  
 _Harrow’s tuition should have included courses in ‘How to Dress for Success’ and ‘The Importance of Being on Time’._  
  
“Have you met his parents yet?” Millie asked, as she leaned against the pew seat.  
  
“Oh, no.  Not yet.  It’s too soon,” replied Donna bashfully.  
  
“Well, when you do, you’re going to just love them.  There’s nothing posh at all about them.  Very down-to-earth people for actors.”  Millie looked over her shoulder and lowered her voice.  “His mum is one of those who likes to eat the potatoes with her hands.  Likes to dip them in the gravy, bless her, and the father...”  
  
 _How funny is this? Good for his mother that she’s not intimidated or afraid to dirty her hands!   We never knew that you could eat corn on the cob with your hands until we saw other people doing it.  My mother used to cut off the kernels so we wouldn’t get dirty or break our braces.  She even eats spare ribs with a fork and knife.  Wouldn’t I love to see her and Benedict’s mom together at a backyard barbeque._  
  
“....is absolutely the most adorable person. Actually, he’s the posh one.  Comes from a rather prestigious family, but you’d never know it.  He’s such a soft-spoken gentleman and clearly adores his family.  They are the loveliest people.  You can just feel the love between them when they’re together.”  
  
“They sound nice.  Benedict speaks very highly of them.”  
  
Donna noticed what looked like the profile of a head with curly hair in the shadows across from her.  She turned to get a better look but the seat back was way too high for her to see if anyone were directly behind her.  
  
 _Son of a bitch! I’d know that retrousse nose and those curls anywhere!  That’s Benedict silhouette!  He’s listening to our conversation!_  
  
“Well, I’d better be checking on my other customers or I won’t have a business,” Millie laughed.  “I hope things work out for you and Benedict.  The man you were with last night seems perfectly dear; but I’ve got a soft spot for Benedict.  He’s so very fond of you, dare I say. His face just lights up around you.  I can see the adoration in his face....and yours.”  
  
 _Is it that obvious?_   thought Donna, as she twirled a strand of hair around her finger, while Maggie left the alcove.    
  
“Hey, Benedict!  I’m going to have to ask you to either move your sorry arse or help me serve dinner cause this tray’s flippin’ heavy!”  came Jimmy’s booming voice from behind her.  
  
“Oh, so sorry.  I was...erm... just...just going back to my seat,” stammered Benedict as he walked around the corner and sat down across from Donna as if nothing had happened.  
  
Donna noticed how happy and relaxed he looked.  
  
 _My, my!  What a change in Mr. Cumberbatches’ mood.  Now, he has confirmation that I really like him. I love how he pretends that he wasn’t eavesdropping._  
  
“Ah, looks like lunch is here,” Benedict said with a contented smile, rubbing his hands together. “I’m absolutely famished.”  
  
Jimmy and Gary placed a steaming platter of rare roast beef and Yorkshire pudding on the table, followed by bowls of roasted new potatoes, cauliflower with cheese, peas with bacon and sautéed spinach.  Last but not least was a gravy boat containing a thick, home-style onion and beef gravy.    
  
They filled their plates and began to eat.  
  
“Excellent,” proclaimed Donna.  “I’m supposed to do a column on Sunday roasts in the near future.  I’m definitely going to come back and do a formal review.”  
  
Benedict cut into his Yorkshire pudding, “You’ll get no argument from me on the quality of the food here.  However, in my humble opinion, my mum still makes the best Sunday roasts.  Hers are positively epic.”  
  
“Spoken like a true blue son.  My brother swears my mom is the best cook in Gramercy Park – even better than his wife, who is an outstanding cook in her own right.”  
  
Donna took a mouthful of roast beef and watched Benedict as he ate.  
  
 _How serenely he’s sitting here, enjoying his meal, full of confidence and looking a bit too pleased with himself.  I really want to say something to him.  If I don’t call him out on this; and we wind up together, he’ll always be doing it._  
  
Donna helped herself to some more cauliflower and set the dish down a bit harder than normal to get his attention. However, Benedict was oblivious, as he was absorbed in assembling the perfect bite of beef, pudding and gravy on his fork.  
  
 _Bless his little heart. So unsuspecting, so smug._  
  
“Benedict?”  
  
He looked up from his plate quizzically.  “Mmm?”  
  
“The next time you plan to eavesdrop here, I suggest you stand back a bit more than you were  – your profile kept distracting me during my conversation with Millie.  Unless, of course, you were auditioning for a role in shadow puppetry,” said Donna picking up the bowl of peas nonchalantly.  “Care for some peas with your humble pie?”  
  
Benedict blushed furiously.  He opened his mouth and closed it again.  Then he smiled knowingly at her and shook his head. “As I seem to be saying alot lately: point made and taken. I think I’ll pass on both.  I need to save my appetite for later on.  I don’t want to be stuffed.”  
  
“Why?  Do you think we should take our dessert to go and have it at my place?  The apple crumble with custard will probably travel best, and I can make us.....”  
  
Donna stopped as she realized that Benedict was now smiling very seductively at her.  He reached across the table, took her hand in his and leaned over to lightly graze his lips over her knuckles. His lips felt like warm velvet.  
  
“Did you mean you’d rather have dessert here?” Donna asked weakly. “I’m not sure I’m following you.”  
  
 _Actually, I’m not sure I can think clearly at all right now. Those damn gorgeous lips._  
  
“Apple crumble is the _last_ thing on my mind. I’m talking about when we get back to your flat, and I snog you absolutely senseless, you cheeky, cheeky girl,”  he purred in a low voice.  Donna could swear she felt the vibrations through her hand.  
  
 _Relax, Donna.  He's flirting.  Enjoy it and flirt back at him.  You know you want it as much as he does._  
  
Donna picked up her water goblet and took a sip.  She looked at Benedict over the rim and smiled playfully at him.  
  
“I’d like to see you try.”  
  
“I love a good dare, so I’ll give it my best shot. Promise.”

  
  
  
  
  
After getting their dessert to go, Benedict and Donna rode the tube back to Blackfriars Station and walked to her apartment building.  The rain had finally ended, and the sun had made an unexpected, but most welcome appearance.  It was just about seven and it was still light outside.    
  
“I understand that as it gets closer to summer, the daylight hours are longer here like at home,” said Donna.    
  
“Yeah.  It’s already starting. You’ll notice that by next month and early July, sunset is around nine-thirty.  However, the bad part is that sunrise is around five; so blackout shades are a necessity if you intend to sleep past then.”  
  
 _Oh, I bet you have blackout shades,_ thought Donna.    
  
“I love the extra daylight hours!  I can get so much more done,” she said. “I’ve always been an early riser.”  
  
“I like winter when sunrise is later – around eight o’clock,” Benedict said.  “I enjoy being able to get up and watch it over the Heath.  It’s a real treat – it’s so beautiful. I also love sunset.  Sunrise and sunset are such transitional times.”  
  
They approached her apartment building.  It was a tall, ultra modern building with floor-to-ceiling windows that afforded views of either the Thames or Saint Paul’s and the city behind it.  Donna had a river view.  
  
“We’re in luck – the doorman is on duty! I hate having to fumble with this keycard,” said Donna as a short, heavy-set man opened the lobby door for her and Benedict.  “Thank you, Peter,” said Donna as she led the way to the lift.  “They just changed over to keyless entries – even on the apartment doors. Makes my bag all that much lighter,” she laughed.  
  
 _That bag can use all the help it can get_ , Benedict laughed to himself.    
  
The lobby was furnished in expensive leather furniture groupings and there was a concierge desk with a gray-haired man sitting behind it, who waved to Donna as they passed by. Once in the lift, she pressed the button for the twelfth floor.  
  
“My sister and brother-in-law live on the tenth floor.”    
  
Benedict noticed that there were sixteen floors in the building.  The ride up was quick and smooth.  When they exited the lift, he noted that there were three flats per floor.  Donna’s flat was located the farthest from the lift, 12C.  She used another keycard to gain entry.  
  
“Welcome, to my temporary home!”  
  
Benedict walked into a medium-sized open floor-plan that was flooded with bright sunlight from the floor-to-ceiling windows that lined the wall, giving a spectacular view of the Thames and South bank.  He could see the Globe and the National Theatre if he looked one way and the London Eye if he looked the other.  The building was triangle-shaped and Donna’s flat was where the two sides met, affording her with such breathtaking views.

  
The flat itself was decorated in shades of dove gray, charcoal gray, black and white with red accents.  There was lots of leather, chrome and glass.  The decorations were ultra modern.  There was a huge flat-screen television and a fire place of white-washed brick. Benedict thought the flat had a decidedly masculine feel.  The lounge area was on the right side and the dining area was on the left, with the decent-sized work kitchen set along the back wall. The kitchen was stainless steel with black appliances.  There was a hallway that obviously led to a bathroom and bedroom.  
  
“I’ll take your coat,” said Donna, holding out her hand.  
  
Benedict removed his raincoat and handed it to her.  “This is just extraordinary!  I love the view!”  
  
“It is nice.  The view was what sold me on it,” said Donna as she hung up their raincoats in the foyer coat closet.  
  
“This must have cost a fortune,” Benedict commented as he strode around the lounge, taking everything in.    
  
Donna went into the kitchen and set the takeaway bag containing their dessert on the black and gray marbled granite countertop.    
  
“It isn’t as expensive as you would think.  I pay only nine hundred pounds a month to sublet this place.”    
  
Benedict did a double take and whistled softly.  “That’s a steal considering the newness of the building and the area.  Did it come furnished?”  
  
“Completely. This is a bit too modern for my taste.  The only thing I had to bring were my clothes and a few personal knick-knacks.  The man I sublet from had gotten a year’s contract to work in Saudi Arabia.  He’s in the oil business.  He was more concerned that I take good care of his things rather than how much money he could get.”  
  
“No doubt,” chuckled Benedict as he crossed the floor to take a seat at the countertop that had six high black lacquered chairs.  He ran his hand along the cool granite. “I like the long seating space.  It’s like having your own little sushi bar, yes?”    
  
“It’s great for entertaining while I cook.” Donna said as she unpacked the takeaway bag.  “Ooh...they gave us an extra tub of the custard. I love custard anything!”  
  
“Millie knows what a tart I am for custard, so they always tuck in an extra when I do a takeaway.”  
  
“I’m going to put this in the oven on low to warm,” Donna said, turning on the oven and placing the tin foil container inside.  Then she put the custard in the refrigerator.    
  
She turned to find that Benedict was already back in the lounge area, inspecting the huge flat-screen TV and all the DVDs that were neatly stacked in the storage space underneath it.  
  
“Would you like to watch something while we wait?” Donna asked as she got out some plates and teacups for dessert.  “Feel free to choose whatever strikes your fancy.”  
  
Benedict went through the titles as Donna rummaged around in the cutlery drawer for spoons and forks.    
  
“How about _Casablanca_?” he asked over his shoulder.  “It has everything:  adventure, romance and one of my favorite songs – _As Time Goes By_.”  
  
“I didn’t know Marco had that in his collection. It’s one of my favorites, too,” replied Donna as she busied herself with setting the dining table for dessert.  “I’m warning you now that I tend to cry at the end.”  
  
“I have a confession to make.  I always find myself tearing up at the end, too,” said Benedict with a nervous chuckle.  “However, I do want you to know that I happen to be very secure in my masculinity.”  
  
 _Oh, I’m very secure about your masculinity,too, Benedict,_ thought Donna.  
  
“No worries.  I’ve got plenty of tissues for both of us,” Donna laughed.  
  
“ _Casablanca_ it is then!” Benedict said as he switched on the TV and the DVD player.  He was impressed that they were both state-of-the-art.  
  
 _Christ!  To be able to afford something like this one day.  Looks like she already has a DVD inside._  
  
As Benedict picked up the remote control, Donna realized that she had left the DVD player on, so it automatically would go back to what she had been watching previously.  
  
 _OH NO!  He’s going to see that it’s one of his movies!  The one where he’s running around nude on the ship!  Son of a bitch!   I forgot to take the damn fucking thing out!_  
  
Donna dropped the cutlery onto the glass table top with a loud clatter.  Lucky for her, it didn’t break. She ran around the table and dashed towards Benedict in an effort to abort what was about to occur.  
  
 _I’ve got to get him to turn that off before it starts to play.  I hope I don’t have to try and take it from him.  I can’t let him see that I’ve been watching his movies, especially this one!  Lord knows what he’ll think of me._  
  
Donna rushed up to Benedict and grabbed hold of his arm.  He looked startled by her behavior.  
  
“You know, Benedict,  I’m thinking that perhaps some music would be more romantic.  Do you like to slow dance?  I love nothing more than......”  
  
Unfortunately, Donna was too late. All of a sudden, Benedict was watching himself take a shower on the deck of the ship in the movie _To The Ends of the Earth_.   He dropped the remote in shock onto the polished wooden floor.  
  
“For fuck’s sake!” he exclaimed, eyes wide in surprise.  Then he looked down at Donna, who was still holding fast to his arm.  
  
Donna could feel her face turn beet red.  She slowly met his gaze, which was one of puzzlement.  
  
 _Tell him the truth, Donna.  Then let it go.  It’s none of his business why you chose that particular movie. He has no idea that you love that particular scene and watch it over and over._  
  
Donna took a deep breath and smiled shyly at him while she wrung her hands.  
  
“Well, since you _are_ an actor and I hadn’t seen anything you had done; I thought it would be a good idea to become acquainted with your work. Every night I try and watch a different movie, so I can catch up to your current work.  I happened to be in the middle of this one now.”  
  
 _There! No need to tell him that you worship his fabulous, sexy backside._  
  
Benedict watched himself run across the deck, buttocks totally exposed to the camera.  Donna saw him shudder and grimace while he retrieved the remote and hit ‘stop’.  His posture had visibly stiffened, and his cheeks and neck were slowly reddening.  
  
“Christ...of all scenes,” he said quietly as he shook his head.    
  
 _Why he’s embarrassed!  Who would have thought with a body like that?_  
  
“I was really enjoying that movie, Benedict,” Donna offered.  “I had just gotten to this scene...”  Her voice trailed off as she realized that it was no use.  
  
Benedict knelt down and resumed fiddling with the DVD player.  Then he sat back on his heels and looked up at her with a flabbergasted expression on his handsome face.  
  
 _Fuck.  He’s just noticed that it’s on replay._  
  
“You have that scene set to loop, Donna.  Why in the hell would you want to watch my fat arse over and over?”  
  
 _It’s truth or fib time.  I don’t want him to go around believing he has a fat bottom.  I never realized how self-conscious guys can be about their bodies. He’s certainly has nothing to be ashamed of._  
  
Benedict sat on the edge of the white leather chaise lounge, which was big enough for two.  Donna had often fantasized of cuddling on it with him, but now all she felt was a deep burning pain in her chest.  He rubbed his thigh vigorously as he appeared to study his shoes.   His face was still red and even started to look a bit blotchy.  
  
Donna went over and sat on the floor at his feet.  She reached out and took both of his huge hands in hers.  She rubbed the backs of them with her thumbs and then placed gentle kisses on the backs of them.  
  
“For what it’s worth, Benedict Cumberbatch,” she began softly. “I don’t think you have a fat bottom at all.  I think it’s absolutely perfect...and whether or not you choose to believe me, I think you have a very sexy body, too.   That’s why I set the scene to loop...so I can appreciate it.”  She smiled disarmingly at him.  
  
 _There.  Now he knows I find him sexy and desirable. Let him judge me._  
  
Benedict felt his stomach do a flip flop at her words. _Could I be so lucky that she really does fancy me? I don’t know what to think…is she giving me a signal?  Bloody hell!  This is like something I would do, only I don’t have any film of her...just my wicked fantasies!_ He thought with a twinge of amusement.  _I need her to understand why I reacted like that._  
  
Benedict sighed and slowly got to his feet. He paced around the room as he spoke. Donna removed her shoes and crawled up onto the chaise lounge.  She sat with her feet tucked under her.   
  
“I’ve never been comfortable doing nude scenes, Donna.  I only do them if I feel they’re integral to the plot; and in this film I felt it was.  I absolutely won’t do full frontal...I prefer to keep my bits private.”  
  
Donna nodded.  “I can completely understand that.  I wouldn’t be comfortable with all the cast and crew watching me naked either.”     
  
Benedict smiled slightly, as he rubbed the back of his neck.  “In reality they don’t.  It’s basically a closed set.  Besides the actors, who are directly involved in the scene, the director, a cameraman and one member of the lighting crew are the only other ones allowed on set.  The actors wear robes, which we don’t remove until the last minute.  If it’s a bed scene, you can get away with wearing pants under the sheets.  I did that in _The Last Enemy_.  However, there was a scene where my character gets out of the bed to answer the door.  He’s supposed to be nude and puts his pants on with his back to the camera.  In order to maintain my modesty, I wore a cock sock to cover my bits while facing the wall.”  
  
 _The Last Enemy.  I have to make a note to download that one._ thought Donna.  
  
“They try to make it as comfortable for the actors as possible. I do my best to make the actresses playing my love interests as comfortable as I can.  There’s nothing romantic at all about doing a love scene in front of a camera, surrounded by hot lights, knowing your every move is not only choreographed, but being watched and recorded as well.”  
  
“You still have nothing to be self-conscious about, Benedict. You have a _very_ nice, fit body,” Donna commented.  “I’m totally serious.”  
  
 _And I bet your bits are very nice and fit, too._  
  
“Well, thank you for the compliment.”  He cleared his throat, allowing her comments to put his mind at ease. “May I join you?” he gestured to the chaise lounge.  
  
Donna smiled and moved over. “There’s plenty of room. It’s meant for two people.”  
  
Benedict slipped off his shoes and lay down beside her on his back.  Donna turned onto her side to face him.  “Do you ever watch your films at home?”  
  
“Never. I must confess that I absolutely hate watching myself on screen.  I always see what I should or could have done better, in addition to my physical flaws.  I feel my bum looks too wide and my left nostril too large,” he laughed bitterly.  “I guess that makes me a bit neurotic and hypercritical.”  
  
“There are some things you do that make you a bit neurotic, but being over-critical of your performance and looks is pretty normal, I would think. There are parts of my body that I’m not thrilled with,” said Donna.  
  
 _And what I wouldn’t give to see them, so I can judge for myself,_ thought Benedict. _I’m willing to bet there is nothing wrong with your body._  
  
Donna absently reached up and twirled one of his auburn curls on her finger.  
  
“Please be careful! I’ve very sensitive hair follicles,” he said, tensing up.  
  
 _Okay let’s make that more than a bit neurotic....sensitive hair follicles?  I’ve never heard of such a thing._  
  
Donna frowned at him.  “Exactly _how_ sensitive is sensitive?”  
  
Benedict carefully extracted her finger from his hair.  
  
“If you were to run your hands through my hair and tug like this...”  He took her hand and demonstrated.  She watched him grimace. “...it causes me great discomfort and even pain. You could have me on my knees in no time.”     
  
Donna nodded understandingly as he moved her fingers through his soft, silky auburn curls.  
  
 _Oh, Carly would never believe he’s giving me lessons on how to run my fingers through his hair.  Lord, help me. I’m not going to last the night at this rate._  
  
“Now, if you touch my hair like this...”  Again he took her hand and demonstrated how to touch his scalp and moved her fingers through his hair in a slightly different way.  “...I find it extremely pleasurable...if my scalp is massaged in just the right way...like this....” He adjusted the position of her fingertips and showed her how to apply pressure to his scalp as she rubbed it.  “....it is pure.... bliss. I can’t even describe how wonderful it feels....it’s like these sensations of pure pleasure shoot directly to my...”   He stopped and gave her a sly smile.   “Well, you get the idea.”  
  
Donna noticed that his eyes were slightly hooded and his face looked very relaxed and almost dreamy.  _Oh, he really likes this...he finds it a definite turn-on. Who would have thought that his scalp is one of his erogenous zones?_  
  
“I believe you were threatening to snog me senseless, Benedict,” Donna whispered as she moved closer to him.  
  
Benedict turned on his side to face her.  He moved so his face was within an inch of hers. She could feel his warm breath and smell his spicy, yet citrusy cologne.  
  
“That wasn’t a threat.  It was a _promise_ ,” he said in a low voice as he cupped her chin.  He kissed her slowly and deeply, parting her lips with his.  He paused to murmur, “I’m going to take _very_ good care of you.”  
  
Donna responded to his kiss by further deepening it.  She felt him gently glide his tongue along her lips and then into her mouth.  She gently sucked on his tongue.  Before Donna realized it, she had run her fingers through his hair; and was very gently massaging his scalp.  She heard him gasp and moan with surprise and pleasure.  
  
“Am I doing it correctly, Benedict?” Donna asked as his kisses suddenly became more heated.    
  
“Yes, oh yes.  More...Christ, this is _so_ fucking erotic...I can’t believe you are such a quick learner.   My God....”  he whispered as he pulled her into an embrace. His hand slowly wandered down her back and paused.  "I also have a fondness for _your_   adorable bum.  I hope it’s alright if I do a little...exploring.”    
  
Donna noticed that he was breathing had become heavier.  
  
“Yes,” she barely breathed.  
  
 _Touch me anywhere you want for God’s sake and touch me soon! Between the legs would be especially nice,_ she thought, passion continuing to mount inside her.     
  
“Good. Thank you. I’ve been dying to do this all day,” he said softly as his hands ghosted over her bottom and he cupped each denim-clad cheek and squeezed gently.  
  
 _Ah, I do feel knickers!  There must be nothing to them._ _I'd love to have a little peek._  
  
 _Careful, Donna. This train is starting to move a bit fast now, and it’s your fault for encouraging him. Think with your head and not with your clitoris.  However, I’ve got clean sheets on the bed...and a fresh pack of condoms just in case._ _I hate feeling so conflicted._  
  
“Am I making you feel good, Benedict? I want to make you feel good.”  
  
Benedict broke the kiss and nipped a tiny bit at her lower lip, being careful to use his lips rather than his teeth.   His ice blue eyes were glazed over with lust.  
  
“Too good...If I feel any better, I risk having a mess in my pants.”  
  
 _Oh, oh....just from touching his hair and scalp?  I think I’d better calm him down before things go too far.  I want him very much, but it’s too soon for us to sleep together. We’re still getting to know each other. We’re both getting carried away in the heat of the moment, which I started._  
  
Donna relaxed her fingers and extracted them carefully from his silky hair.  She made her kisses slower and softer.  A low moan escaped his lips. She studied his flushed face.  His eyes were shut and his lips were swollen and pink.   She finally stopped kissing him and rubbed her nose against his.  
  
“Better?”  
  
“Define better.”  
  
“Have you calmed down?”  
  
He laughed lightly and briefly pressed his crotch against her hip.  Donna could feel the bulge of his erection.  She was sorely tempted to reach down and touch it.  
  
“What do you think?”  
  
 _Mom would say: Don’t start anything you don’t intend to finish, Donna.  Then he’ll think you’re a cock tease.  That, unfortunately, would apply in this case._  
  
“Mmmm…it feels like a ‘no’ to me.”  
  
 _And a nice-sized one at that_ , she thought.  
  
“I’m feeling so good right now, Donna,” his voice was low and husky.  Then he took a deep breath to further calm himself. “As much as I desire you, it’s too soon, isn’t it?  We need to be sure about our relationship before leaping into bed.”  
  
 _I promised myself I’d wait until I fell in love. I’m just not quite there yet,_ he thought sadly.  
  
“I hate to agree with you this time, but you’re right, Benedict.  I’m also sorry for leading you on like that."  


"And I certainly did my part to encourage you. I didn't try to slow things, because a part of me didn't want to," he whispered.  


"We’ll know when the time’s right,” Donna said softly.  
  
Benedict sighed deeply and opened his eyes to look at her.  He smoothed her hair off her face and kissed her gently. She could see barely see the blue/green hue in the slowly fading sunlight.  His pupils were almost completely dilated. Donna planted a light kiss on the tip of his nose, which turned up slightly at the end.  She continued to study it closely.  
  
“What are you looking at with such intensity? Is there something on my nose?”  
  
“You’re right.  One of your nostrils is larger than the other.”  
  
There was a knock on the door.  
  
Donna and Benedict both started and sat up.  They looked at each other as if they had been caught doing something they shouldn’t had been.  
  
 _Damn!  It’s got to be Carly. She’s got awful timing!_  
  
 _Why am I anxious?  Perhaps this throbbing boner has something to do with it. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. We’re two consenting adults enjoying a good snog._  
  
“Are you expecting anyone?” Benedict asked hesitantly.    
  
“No, but it could only mean it’s someone in the building because I certainly didn’t buzz anyone in.  I bet it’s my sister.”  
  
Donna got up, took a pillow off the couch and tossed it at Benedict, who was busy smoothing down his unruly curls.    
  
“So you can cover the evidence,” she said looking pointedly at his still-visible erection.  
  
“Thanks,” he said as he stood and quickly adjusted himself in his trousers.  
  
Benedict grabbed a tissue and wiped the traces of Donna’s pink lipstick off his mouth and nose.  Then he sat down on the couch, carefully arranged the pillow over his lap and folded his hands over the pillow.  
  
“How’s this?”  
  
“That looks a bit obvious,” commented Donna as she quickly redid her ponytail. She looked in the foyer mirror, making sure all the ends were smooth and tidy.  
  
“Would you rather I hide in the loo until she leaves?” snapped Benedict, as he peeked under the pillow.  “It’s not like I can pull a bloody plug and it automatically deflates.”  
  
Donna looked through the peephole to see her brother-in-law, Steven, standing in the hallway holding a plate with what looked like raw hamburger patties.  She glanced back at Benedict, who had turned on the TV.  
  
“It’s my brother-in-law,” Donna whispered loudly. “Ready?”  
  
Benedict nodded and gave her a thumbs up.  
  
“Hi Steve!  Where’s Carly?” Donna said brightly as she opened the door.  
  
“Hi Donna. She’s downstairs putting the finishing touches on dinner. Our stove decided to stop working; so I was wondering if I could grill our burgers here.”  
  
 _I can’t say no to him.  They wouldn’t do that to me. Besides this is better than if Carly were the one to come up.  She’d ask Benedict a thousand questions._  
  
“Sure,” said Donna, standing aside so her brother-in-law could enter.    
  
“I won’t be long...we like them rare.”  Steven stopped short upon seeing Benedict sitting on the couch.  “Oh, I had no idea you had company, Donna.  I’ll just go. We can microwave the burgers.”  
  
Donna closed the door behind him. “No, you won’t. Microwaved meat is disgusting.  Like you said it will only take a few minutes to grill those.”  
  
Steven smiled at Benedict and made a bee-line towards him.  He offered his hand to Benedict, who rose up from the couch, still holding the pillow casually in place.    
  
“Steven Cipriano.  I’m Donna’s brother-in-law.”  
  
“Benedict Cumberbatch,” said Benedict as he shook Steven’s hand.  
  
“Benedict is my boyfriend,” added Donna with a shy smile.  
  
Donna noticed the immediate looks of surprise on both Steve and Benedict’s faces.  
  
 _Boyfriend?  She thinks of me as her boyfriend.  I’m truly over the moon!_  
  
 _Donna has a boyfriend?  Carly never mentioned it.  I bet she doesn’t know. No wonder Donna has that deer-caught- in-the-headlights look._  
  
“Nice to meet you, Benedict.”  
  
“Same.”  
  
Steven glanced down at Benedict’s crotch and made his way across the room to the kitchen area.  He wore a smirk on his handsome face.  
  
 _It’s pretty obvious that I interrupted something.  They weren’t just sitting on the couch watching TV or talking.  I’ve been there.  I know the old cover the hard-on with the pillow trick. And both of them have swollen lips._  
  
Donna had already started the grill for him and got out a spatula.  She made sure the temperature was on high.  
  
 _I never should have said boyfriend, but I didn’t know what else to call Benedict.  I should have said friend. Boyfriend implies commitment.  Now, Steve’s going to run downstairs and tell Carly that I had a guy with a strange name up here who was trying to conceal a hard-on.  Then she’ll tell Mom and Dad later on Skype._  
  
“Do you need salt and pepper?” Donna eagerly asked Steven as he put the burgers on the super hot grill. The meat began to sizzle immediately.  
  
“Yeah. Thanks.”  
  
Donna handed him the salt cellar and the pepper grinder.    
  
“Have you two been together long?” Steven asked pleasantly, as he seasoned the meat.  
  
“Not too long,” replied Benedict nonchalantly from the couch.  
  
“A few weeks,” piped up Donna.  
  
Steven glanced sideways at Donna.  “Carly didn’t tell me you were seeing anyone,” he whispered to Donna in a low voice.  
  
“I was planning on telling her soon,” she whispered back to Steven, who smiled knowingly.  “Please let me be the one to tell her.”  
  
Steven nodded and whispered, “Your secret’s safe with me.”  Then he raised his voice so Benedict could hear.  “Something smells apple-y,” he observed, sniffing the air.  “Did you bake a pie?  Donna bakes one of the best apple pies I’ve ever had, Benedict. She puts caramel in it and walnut streusel on the top.”  
  
 _That sounds divine_ , thought Benedict.  _Maybe she’ll bake me one someday._  
  
“Oh, that’s our apple crumble.  It should be ready,” said Donna as she turned off the oven and removed the dessert to a trivet.  “We were so full from lunch that we took our dessert back here."

"We needed time to get the digestion going," remarked Benedict, patting his flat stomach.

 _I have no doubt that you did,_ thought Steven with amusement.  _I can't even imagine the questions if my wife were here._

"Would you care for coffee or tea with your crumble?” Donna asked Benedict.  
  
Benedict stretched and got up.  All evidence of his erection was gone.  “I think I’ll have a cuppa.”  
  
 _Cuppa?  Oh, he means tea.  I hope._  
  
“What kind?  I have regular, decaf, Earl Grey and chocolate mint.”  
  
 _Regular?  What the fuck is regular? I’ve never heard anyone make reference to regular tea_ , thought Benedict.  _Better stick with something safe._  
  
“Earl Grey would be lovely.”  
  
Steven flipped the burgers over.  “Do you have any onion powder, Donna? That might be good on the burgers.”  
  
“Here you go!”  Donna went to her spice rack and extracted a bottle.  
  
 _Steven’s not saying much.  I can tell when he’s uncomfortable.  He knows he interrupted something.  Poor guy._  
  
“Donna tells me you’re a doctor,” ventured Benedict as he sat one of the stools.  
  
“Yes. I’m an orthopedist.  Just starting out actually,” smiled Steven as he sprinkled onion powder on the burgers.  “I’m here on a fellowship for a year. Then we'll see what happens.”  
  
Benedict watched as Donna filled an induction teakettle with water and turned it on.  She opened a cabinet to get out two tea bags from a box of Twinings Earl Grey tea. Then she removed a teapot from another cabinet.    
  
 _Bloody hell! She’s not going to warm the teapot?  That’s not good. Just shut up and don’t say a word, Benedict. Talk to her brother-in-law.  He seems like a nice enough chap. He had no idea what he was walking into.  You never know, one day he may be your brother-in-law, too._  
  
“How do you like living in London then?” Benedict asked Steven.    
  
“I like it very much. The thing I like best is that it’s so easy to get around that I don’t need a car.  It’s similar to New York, yet different.  Have you been abroad?”  
  
Donna poured the boiling water into the teapot and added the two teabags.  
  
 _She put teabags in a teapot, which hasn't been warmed?  Christ!  Mum would just cringe._  
  
“Several times.  I’m absolutely in love with Manhattan,” smiled Benedict as he watched Donna dunk the bags a few times and take them out of the pot. “It’s an extraordinary city. There’s so much to do there.  It’s one of my favorite places to go on holiday.”  
  
 _For fuck's sake!   She's a food critic , yet she knows shit about the proper way to brew tea?  She just dunked those bags for a minute.  How does she expect to get any flavour out of them?_  
  
Steven placed the cooked burgers onto a clean plate that Donna had given him.  “Carly will bring it back next time she comes up.”  
  
“Not a problem, Steve.”    
  
“Well, it was nice meeting you, Benedict.  Thanks for the use of Marco’s grill, Donna!  I’ll let myself out.”  
  
Donna took the custard out of the refrigerator and poured it into a glass bowl to microwave until it was warm.   Benedict helped her bring the dessert to the table.  Donna poured the tea and placed a small bowl of demerara sugar cubes on the table along with a pitcher of milk.  The pitcher was shaped like a cow.

 _That doesn't surprise me in the least. I bet if she could, there would be cows all over the place._  
  
Benedict added milk, two sugar cubes and stirred, hoping for the best. Then he picked up the teacup and saucer and took a tentative sip, trying not to spit it out.  
  
 _I think this may well be one of the worst cups of tea that I’ve ever had.   It tastes like slightly bergamot-flavoured hot water. Ugh!  I’ve got to teach her how to brew a proper pot of tea if we’re going to be together._  
  
Donna took a sip of her tea and smacked her lips in approval, causing Benedict to wince.  The corners of her mouth were turned up slightly in a smile.  
  
 _Ah!  Just right!  I was so worried I wouldn’t be able to make a decent cup of tea for him._  
  
Benedict watched with amusement as Donna ladled the warm custard sauce over her apple crumble.    
  
 _She actually thinks she’s made a good cuppa!  Hopefully, her coffee is better. Next time I’ll try her coffee. Americans usually know how to make decent coffee._  
  
“This is heavenly,” she said as she chewed round a mouthful of custard and crumble.  “I need to get their recipe.  It’s not overly sweet.”  
  
Benedict licked some custard off his spoon.  “Your brother-in-law seems like a nice enough chap.”  
  
Donna passed the custard to Benedict, who helped himself to more.  
   
“Oh, Steve’s great.  He’s like having another brother.”  
  
“You told him that I was your boyfriend.”  
  
Donna’s face turned red.  “I’m sorry...I didn’t mean to infer so soon that we were more than friends.  I should have said we were just friends.  I mean technically we really are friends at this point. Really good friends who enjoy kissing a lot...”  
  
Benedict smiled indulgently at her over the rim of his teacup.  “Really good friends, who were vigorously making out on the chaise lounge.”  
  
Donna returned the smile.  “I thought we were snogging. Isn’t it the same as kissing.”  
  
“Snogging to me infers lots of kissing - especially French kissing, which I'm a huge fan of.  Making out to me implies more than kissing. We were well-past just kissing, Donna.  We were well on our way to....exploring new...”  
  
“I know,” interrupted Donna, as she took a bite of her crumble.  “Making  your scalp happy.”  
  
Benedict steeled himself and raised the cup and saucer to finish his tea.  “I’d say my scalp was more than just happy.  I think it was just about overcome with joy.  I’ve never had a woman touch my hair just right.  It was quite enjoyable.”  
  
Donna sipped her tea.  “Then I’m glad to have been of service to your scalp.  Would you like more tea, Benedict?”  
  
“Oh, I’m fine. I’ve got a long tube ride home.”  
  
They finished their dessert as the sun set.  Donna cleared the table as Benedict pulled the drapes closed.  He walked over and leaned his elbows on the counter as he leered at Donna.  
  
“Since you are apparently a bit confused, would you care for a demonstration of snogging versus making out?”    
  
Donna Saint James smiled widely as she came around the counter and led Benedict back to the chaise lounge by the hand.  
  
“Absolutely. Please consider me your rapt pupil, Mr. Cumberbatch.”  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I saw the building that Donna lives in while walking along the Thames towards the Tate Modern. It looked like a tall, narrow glass triangle. There were photos of the flats online, and the views were just incredible.
> 
> 2\. I have no idea how much it really is to sublet a fully furnished flat in London. 
> 
> 3\. I’m also not quite ready to have Benedict and Donna go to bed yet. I want the sexual tension between them to keep building.
> 
> 4\. I just did a re-write, thanks to lovely readers, Annie and Leigh, for pointing out some errors in the story line - my apologies to anyone who became confused. The perils of writing a complicated story line. :-(


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Donna finally gets Benedict’s photo from Wanda and experiences conflicting emotions. Time to briefly meet Donna’s parents. Wanda finds an unwelcome surprise after her lie down, which causes a showdown.

 

Benedict Cumberbatch smiled to himself contentedly as he shrugged into his raincoat.   The remainder of the evening had gone very well, and he was feeling very over-the-moon indeed.  
  
“So was I able to adequately convey the difference between snogging and making out?”  
  
Donna giggled as she watched him button his coat.    “More than.  You are a fine teacher, and I fully intend to get an ‘A’ from you.”  
  
“Good.  This way you’ll be prepared should I stop by to give you a surprise test then.”  
  
“I’ll need to keep up my studies to make sure I don’t forget anything.”  
  
“Yes, you will.”  
  
“Maybe you could be my study buddy.”  
  
“Are you asking for extra help?”  
  
“There’s always room for improvement, don’t you think?”  
  
“Actually, I thought you had already earned your ‘A’ tonight – particularly in the art of scalp massage.”  
  
“I accept your compliment, Mr. Cumberbatch.”  
  
Benedict leaned down and held her face in his large hands as he kissed her lightly.  “I meant every word,” he murmured.  
  
 _I feel like I’m standing on the edge of a building...one push, and I could fall in love with her.  I want it so badly....to be in a loving relationship again; but I need to take it slow._  
  
Benedict removed a navy blue wool scarf from his coat pocket and wound it around his long, slender neck.  Donna reached up to adjust his collar and rearranged his scarf.  She patted his chest and smiled up at him.  
  
“There. You’re all bundled up and ready to brave the brutal spring elements.  Where are your gloves?”  
  
Benedict frowned and narrowed his eyes at her.  
  
“I suspect you’re making fun of me.”  
  
Donna covered her mouth with her hand.  
  
“Maybe just a little.  It’s warmed up quite a bit since the sun came out earlier.”  
  
Benedict shrugged.  “I can’t help it if I’m always cold.  I’ve always been like that.”  
  
“You were pretty hot before,” Donna smirked.  
  
“That was a _different_ kind of hot,” he said with a laugh.  “By the way, being you’re so curious, my gloves are in my other pocket.”  He pulled out a pair of black leather gloves.  “I packed away my down-filled ones for the season.”  
  
She playfully stuck her tongue out at him.  
  
“Be careful of the snow drifts.  I would hate to hear that you got stuck and froze to death in front of Blackfriars tube station.”  
  
Benedict pulled Donna against him and kissed her hard.  “I never realized what a little smart ass you can be, but I find it very enticing.”  
  
“I’ll see you Thursday night?”  
  
“Yeah, but I hate waiting that long to see you again.  How about I ring you if I can fit in a lunch?  Sometimes we can get up to a two hour break. It’s just rehearsal, so it’s not like I’m in makeup and costume and have to hang around.”  
  
“Give me a call, and if I can meet you, I will.  Now, how about my goodnight kiss, Benedict?”  
  
Benedict smiled and kissed her deeply, their tongues coming together to play in each others mouth.  He broke the kiss and pressed his forehead against hers.  
  
“Mmmm. That was a very nice kiss, Benedict,” sighed Donna.  
  
“It was my pleasure.”  
  
“Can I please have another one?”  
  
“Aren’t you the insatiable one, but since you asked so nicely....”  he leaned in for another kiss.  
  
They hugged each other briefly after they broke the kiss.  He patted her back.  
  
“I’ve got to go.  I have to stop off at my parents before I head home.  They’re holding some mail for me. Goodnight, Love.  Sleep well.”  
  
“You, too, Benedict.”  
  
Donna closed and locked the door behind him.  She leaned back against it with a huge smile, her heart beating fast.  
  
 _He called me Love!_

  
  
  
  
  
Donna finished cleaning up the kitchen and got ready for bed. She crossed the room to the desk where her laptop was set up. The desk was in front of the wall of windows and provided her with a beautiful view of the Thames and surrounding area during the day.  At night, she could see all the buildings lit up. Donna turned on her laptop and pulled the drapes open a bit. Tonight she could see some stars twinkling here and there.  
  
 _I haven’t checked my emails all day.  I’d better see if I have anything important.  Then I’ll call Mom and Dad on Skype and see how things are in New York._  
  
Donna signed in and looked over the contents of her inbox.  The first message was from Wanda Ventham.  The subject read:  Photo of Ben.  
  
 _Yea!!!  Wanda said she would try sending another photo of her son.  I hope I can open this one.  I’m not going to get my hopes up.  She’s tried twice already with no luck._  
  
Donna read the message before attempting to open the attachment:  
  
  
 **Dear Donna,**  
  
 **My apologies for taking this long to get back to you.  My husband and I finally figured out why you couldn’t open my attachments.  It had to do with the way I was naming the files and your program not being able to recognize it.  It’s all sorted out now.**  
  
 **Anyway, attached is a photo of my Ben taken at his best friend’s wedding two years ago.  He served as the Best Man, so that’s why he’s in formal attire.  I do hope you’ll find him as handsome as I do – but that’s a mother’s prerogative.  LOL!  Even though the photo is two years old, Ben still looks the same as he did that day.**  
  
 **Let’s plan on your going to Parliament Hill Farmer’s Market on Saturday morning, as we discussed on the phone.  I have also attached directions to the market using the Northern (black) line.  It’s an easy walk from Hampstead Station.**  
  
 **Ben always goes around eleven, and his last stop is always the Flour Station Bakery stand for a Chelsea bun.  I’m sure you’ll have no problem recognizing him, especially if you are able to open the file – Ha ha ha!   He’s rather tall, so he shouldn’t be hard to find in a crowd.**  
  
 **Ring me up anytime if you have any questions or concerns.  Looking forward to making this happen; so we can become mother and daughter-in-law!**  
  
 **With warmest regards,**  
  
 **Wanda Ventham**  
  
  
 _Gosh, she is just adorable...even if she is an adulteress. Okay – here goes!_  
  
Donna crossed her fingers and clicked on ‘open attachment’.  To her delight the file immediately opened to reveal a tall, broad-shouldered young man with wavy, strawberry blond hair and blue eyes wearing an expertly-tailored tuxedo.  His face was round, and he had an adorable smile that revealed even white teeth.  There was a look of playfulness in his eyes.  
  
 _Well, well!  Hello Ben Ventham! Aren’t you hot!  I guess since he has more red in his hair; she just says he has red hair.  He doesn’t look anything like Wanda.  I guess he must favor his father._  
  
Donna printed out a copy of the photo on her color printer to take with her to the market on Saturday.  Then she saved the attachment to her photos file.  Donna leaned back in her chair and studied the photo closely.  
  
 _I don’t know what to do.  I really like Benedict a lot – there is definitely something starting to develop between us.  Something deep...I feel as if we’re bonding...like soul mates. Tonight's also proven that there’s a strong sexual attraction – there’s a lot tension between us.  However, I thought the same thing about Roy and look where that got me._ _I also have James to consider.  He’s also very nice, and we get along terribly well.  I need to spend more time with him before I make an intelligent  decision.  I don’t want to jump into anything like I did with Sean or brush him off before getting to know him like I did with Peter._  
  
 _Then there is always the possibility that Benedict and James could both turn out to be jerks in the end.  Only time will tell.  I need to follow Mom’s advice and keep all my options open. I haven’t committed myself to either of them yet, though I must admit to being partial to Benedict. There’s just something about him that makes me feel so alive and happy inside. If only Wanda had been able to set up something sooner, then I wouldn’t have gone out with Benedict in the first place.  Now, the tables are reversed and James is also in the picture.  What should I do?_  
  
Donna continued to look at Ben Ventham’s photo and thought quietly for several more minutes, carefully weighing her options.  Finally, she came to a decision.  
  
 _I’m the one who answered Wanda’s ad and expressed an interest, so I owe it to myself and to her to follow through on this.  If Ben turns out to be all she says he is, then I’m going to have a very hard choice to make._  
  
She quickly typed a response to Wanda:  
  
  
 **Hi Wanda,**  
  
 **Thank you for sending the picture of your handsome son, Ben.  I was pleasantly surprised upon opening the file and am looking forward to meeting him in person more than ever!**  
  
 **As planned, I will be at Parliament Hill Farmers Market Saturday morning.  I plan to arrive around ten thirty.  This will give me time to walk around the market and see where the best place to 'bump into him' will be.   I also appreciated the list of stands and the directions that you attached.  That will come in very handy as I get my bearings.**  
  
 **I’ll let you know what happens as soon as I can on Saturday.  Wish me luck!  Please give my best to your husband.  I hope he has since recovered from his cold, and I look forward to meeting him one day.**  
  
 **Best regards,**  
 **Donna Saint James**  

  
  
  
  
Donna closed out of  her email and saw that her parents were on Skype.  She put in a call and their faces immediately filled her screen.  Neil and Antonia Saint James were sitting side-by-side at their dining room table with the laptop positioned in front of them.  Donna could see the typical Saint James Sunday dinner spread on the table consisting of pasta, salad, bread and the delicious red wine that her Popi Anthony made in the cellar of his house in Astoria. Donna could almost smell the food, and seeing her parents gave her a warm feeling inside.  
  
“Hi Mom!  Hi Dad!  I see I called just in time for dinner,” Donna teased.  “Where’s my plate?”  
  
“Cavatelli and meatballs tonight,” replied her father, holding up his plate to the laptop camera so she could see better.  “The best in New York City.”  
  
“Gosh, that makes my mouth water,” commented Donna.  “I feel like I’m sitting with you thanks to Skype.”  
  
“We had breakfast with Carly and Steve, while they were having their lunch.  Now, we’re having dinner with you before you go to sleep,” Neil laughed.    
  
“Where’s Grandpa?” asked Donna.  Neil’s father was a widower and had lived with Donna’s family since she was in high school, while Antonia’s parents lived in Astoria.  
  
“At the movies with Mrs. Baum,” replied Neil.  
  
“Tell him I miss him, and give him a kiss from me!”  
  
“So tell us what’s new, Muffin.  We haven’t heard from you in a few days,” asked Antonia, taking a forkful of salad. “We were getting worried, but Carly said you’ve been going out a lot.  Have you met anyone interesting?”  
  
“Well...”  
  
“Is there someone your father and I need to meet?”  She raised an eyebrow quizzically at Donna.  “We can easily book a flight and come over for a weekend.”  
  
Donna laughed to herself.  _If only you knew that I have three potential suitors in the dugout, you'd be checking British Airways for flights to London._  
  
“Not really, Mom,” replied Donna.  “Just doing some casual dating here and there and keeping my options open.”  
  
 _Now, I’ll sit back and let the lecture begin._  
  
“Smart girl!  It doesn’t pay to get tied down too soon. I think it’s a good idea that you’re dating different men. You need to be one hundred percent sure before making any kind of commitment, and before you do that you need to take the necessary precautions.....”  
  
“I always keep fresh condoms in my nightstand, Mother.”  
  
 _No one’s been using them, but they’re there just in case._  
  
“Jesus Christ, Donna!  There are some things your father and I don’t need to know.”  
  
 _In a word:  Bullshit.  You were fishing, Mom.  I’ve been on your witness stand before._  
  
Antonia cleared her throat.  “I was referring to the need to check out their ...”  
  
Neil touched his wife’s wrist.  “Toni, this court’s in recess for dinner.  Have another meatball. They’re especially good tonight.”  
  
 _Good try, Dad; but it won’t work.  She’s going to pursue this until she gets a satisfactory answer._  
  
“I wasn’t talking about birth control, Muffin.  However being you brought it up....”  
  
 _No, I didn’t!  Well, I guess I did technically.  I was just being a wise ass.  I should have anticipated this._  
   
“....condoms can break, so I’d recommend using the pill. It’s far more reliable, in my opinion.”  
  
“I’ll worry about that when and if I enter into a serious relationship, Mom.”  
  
Neil patted his wife’s forearm and said gently, “The jury finds you guilty of meddling, Toni. You’re taking over and telling Donna how to handle her love life.  Take it easy. I’m sure we’ll be among the first to know when there is someone she wants to tell us about.”  
  
 _I guess you can’t take the lawyer out of the woman.  I’d love to see Mom and Barrister Ben in the same room._  
  
Donna smiled to herself as she watched her parents exchange glances.  
  
 _They just kill me.  Whole paragraphs must pass between them.  They are so in tune to each other, they don’t even need to talk out loud sometimes.  Dad knows she’s about to go into cross examination mode._  
  
Donna’s mother smiled placatingly at her father and took a sip of wine.  Her father shrugged and gave Donna the look that meant : _Be patient, it will soon be over_.  Then he returned to eating his pasta.  
  
“What kind of men have you been dating? Are they English or did you find Americans?  If you date an Englishman, there will be cultural differences. Are they self-supporting?  You don’t want to wind up with another unemployed actor on your hands.  It’s important that they are financially stable. Well, I can always check into things for you from here.”  
  
 _Jeez Louise!  Time to hang up before we get into an argument._  
  
Donna’s father looked sideways at his wife and rolled his eyes at Donna.  He shook his head as he helped himself to a chunk of crusty Italian bread.  
  
“Toni, time for the prosecution to rest,”  he said firmly as he looked into her eyes.

Donna's mother helped herself to more salad and another meatball.  She began to eat, which signaled the end of the questioning for the time being.  
  
“Mom, in answer to your question: They’re all British,  I have had no problems with them culturally, and there’s no one special.  If there is, you and Dad will be among the first to know.  Now, I’d much rather hear about what’s going on at home.”  Donna smiled at her father, who winked at her. “So how does it feel to be the new Arts and Leisure Editor for the New York Times, Dad?  Do you miss being an entertainment critic?”

  
  
  
  
  
Wanda Ventham woke up from her lie-down feeling very refreshed.  She stretched and noticed that Timothy had left a note for her on his pillow:  
  
  
 **My Darling Rosie,**  
  
 **Have gone to fetch us a chicken tiki masala and some samosas in case we’re feeling peckish later.  I’m also hitting up the ice cream parlour for some chai ice cream to round off the meal.**  
  
 **With love,**  
 **Hugh**  
  
  
Wanda laughed at the reference to the married couple they had played in a sitcom called _Next of Kin_.    
  
 _He’s such a love.  I’m such a lucky woman to have married him.  I think I’ll go lay the table and brew some Assam tea to go with the food._  
  
Wanda walked down the hallway and noticed that it was dark in the lounge.  The only light she could see spilled in from the kitchen.  
  
 _Tim must be on his electricity conservation high horse again.  The bill was a bit high last month.  It wouldn’t hurt to meet him halfway, I suppose._  
  
As she made her way through the lounge into the kitchen, Wanda had a funny feeling as if she were being watched.  She filled the teakettle with water and set it on the stove to boil, while getting out dishes and cutlery. Wanda found she couldn’t shake the strange feeling as she fetched the teapot and cups.    
  
 _I know I’m alone, but I felt like I was being watched when I walked through the lounge. I never did like being in the dark...even when Tim is home.  I always prefer all the lights on.  My imagination is getting the best of me._  
  
Wanda pushed her sleeves up over her elbows and rubbed her arms until the strange feeling passed.  She busied herself with laying the table, when she stopped and sniffed the air.  
  
 _Blimey!  Is that cigarette smoke I smell?  It seems like it's coming from the lounge._  
  
Wanda put down the glass she was holding and took a broom out of the storage cupboard.  She walked on tiptoes to the archway leading into the lounge. Her hand hovered over the light switch, as her skin prickled.  
  
 _This is stupid, Wanda.  There’s nobody here. Timothy’s off getting supper is all, and you’re getting jumpy in the dark for no reason.  It must be someone smoking downstairs that you smell...but we’ve never had that problem before.  Maybe someone is smoking in the emergency stairwell?  That’s never happened before either.  Besides, all the owners have agreed that this is to be  a non-smoking building._  
  
The light from the kitchen cast deep shadows across the semi-darkened lounge.  Wanda stood at the doorway and peered in, allowing her eyes to adjust to the dark, hand ready to hit the light switch.  The fine hairs on the back of her neck stood up as the tension mounted. She took a couple of tentative steps into the lounge.  
  
 _Don’t tell Timothy about this whatever you do.   You’ll never hear the end of it.  You’re really acting like a silly old lady._  
  
Wanda sniffed and frowned again.  
  
 _For fuck’s sake!  The smell of smoke is stronger in here._  
  
Wanda suddenly noticed the faint, red glow of the end of a cigarette in the darkness.  
  
“Tim?”  
  
“No, Mother.  I was wondering when you were going to notice me,” came Benedict’s deep voice from the darkness.  
  
Wanda switched on the lights.  Benedict was sitting in one of the arm chairs, long legs crossed.  He was holding a cigarette in one hand and a tumbler of whiskey in the other.  
  
Wanda threw the broom down and held her chest to still her pounding heart.  
  
“For fuck’s sake, Benedict Timothy Carlton Cumberbatch!  You gave me such a fright!  What in the hell are you doing sitting in the dark?  Are you trying to kill me?  And there’s no smoking in the building!  Put that damn thing out before we have to pay a hefty fine to the other owners!”    
  
Benedict looked sullenly at her and took a deep drag on the cigarette.  He held the smoke in his lungs and then slowly let it out in rings towards the ceiling.  He smiled as if pleased with himself, but his eyes were not smiling.  
  
“Glad to see you haven’t lost your talent for that.  Now please put the fucking thing out or I’ll come over there and do it myself!  And you won’t like the way I do it.  I don’t know what’s gotten into you.....”  
  
She stopped and regarded her son closely.  His face looked drawn and tired.  His eyes were rimmed red as if he hadn’t slept or had been crying.  Wanda wasn’t sure which.  She slowly approached him.  
  
Benedict took one last drag on his cigarette and snuffed it out in the empty crystal candy dish that Wanda kept on the end table.  She noticed that the tabletop was littered with silver foil Baci wrappers.  Benedict drank some of the whiskey and let out a harsh laugh.  
  
“Happy now, Mother?  I put it out!” he said sardonically.  
  
Wanda stood, hands on hips, not quite sure what to make of her son’s behavior.  
  
“Ben, is everything alright?  Are you sick?”  
  
Benedict sat stoically in the arm chair and sipped some more whiskey as his ice blue eyes studied her.  He smacked his lips and turned the glass around in his hands, studying the deep, amber colour.  
  
Wanda walked closer.  She could smell the liquor on his breath.  
  
“You’ve been drinking.”  
  
“Very astute observation, Mother.”  
  
“Don’t be cheeky with me. Are you pissed?”  
  
Benedict re-crossed his legs and pondered the question.  He held the glass up to the light and swirled the amber-coloured liquor around.  
  
“Hmmmm...pissed?  A term that can mean two very different things....it can mean drunk.  Am I drunk?  Ummm...no. Actually and unfortunately, I’m perfectly sober.  I wish to hell that I was drunk.  Now, on the other hand,  pissed can also mean annoyed or angry.  Am I pissed in those terms?  I’m afraid so.”  
  
“What happened?  You know you can always tell me anything, Ben.”  
  
Benedict got to his feet and crossed the lounge to sit at the computer, taking his glass of whiskey with him.  He moved the mouse and a photo of himself taken at Adam’s wedding filled the screen.  
  
“I really like how you look in that photo,” began Wanda with a smile.  “It’s one of my favorites, which is why I thought I’d make it my screensaver.  I was also thinking....”  
  
Benedict cut her off abruptly.  “How many girls did you send this to?”  
  
Warning bells went off in Wanda’s mind.  
  
 _Shit.  He’s been snooping around.  He must have let himself in while Tim was out, and I was having a kip. Let me try to nip this in the bud._  
  
“Why in heavens name would I send out that photo to anyone?" scoffed Wanda. "It was taken two years ago!  Really, Ben!  You’ve got to stop jumping to conclusions.”  
  
Their eyes locked for what seemed like an eternity.  She could tell he was trying to make up his mind as to whether she was telling him the truth.  
  
Finally, Benedict broke the silence.  He looked at Wanda with narrowed eyes.  
  
“You’re quite sure about that yes?”  
  
“About what?”  
  
“That you haven’t been sending out my photo to women without my permission.”  
  
“Quite sure.  I absolutely would _never_ do such a thing.”  
  
 _There’s a special chair waiting for me in hell...._  
  
“Prepared to swear on a stack of bibles then?”  
  
“Stop being ridiculous, Benedict!”  
  
“You won’t because you know you’re lying to me. You’re afraid the roof will cave in on your head,” laughed Benedict bitterly. “I just want to know why you can’t leave me to sort out my own motherfucking life.”  
  
 _He knows. Time to try the attack method and see if he backs down._  
  
Wanda stood, nose in the air, hands on hips and glared at her son.  
  
“I think I’ve heard quite enough from you tonight, Barrister Ben!  How dare you sneak into this flat and snoop around on my computer and then have the gall to question me as if I’m some kind of criminal mastermind on trial at the Old Bailey?”  Wanda said indignantly with a dramatic toss of her head.  
  
“How dare I indeed,” smirked Benedict, taking a sip of the whiskey.  “I was on my way home from a date – yes, a date, Mum! Can you imagine that I was actually capable of getting a date on my own?”  
  
He closed the photo file and hit the print screen button.  The printer began to spit out a sheet of paper.  He watched it in silence until the print job was complete.  
  
“Anyway, I decided to stop in and see you and Dad.  I let myself in and found you asleep and Dad’s note.  I didn’t want to disturb you; so I came in here to have a putter on the computer until he returned.”  
  
“Why didn’t you ring us up or just ring the bell when you got here?”  
  
Benedict stretched and crossed his legs.  He rubbed the back of his neck and began to laugh in frustration.  
  
“Aren’t you the one who always tells me that this is still my home and I’m always welcome – is that no longer the case then?”  
  
“Of course this is still your home, and you _are_ welcome to come here any time you fancy.”  
  
Benedict smirked.  “Well, aren’t you a fine lesson in contradictions!  Ring us up first. Don’t ring us up first.  Ring the bell. Don’t ring the bell and come right up.  Christ!”  
  
 _Okay Wanda. He’s got a point there._ _Though the more I think about it, I think I would prefer some warning._  
  
“In spite of what _you_ think, I wasn’t snooping on the computer. I didn’t need to.  Dad must have been using it, so when I moved the mouse, my picture appeared on the screen.”  
  
“Bullshit.  You may not have been snooping at first, but I know how you’re unable to resist an open email box or file.”  
  
“Just like you, Mum.  God help me, I take after you.”  Benedict laughed harshly.  
  
It suddenly dawned on Wanda what had occurred.  
  
 _Oh, fuck.  Timothy sent the email to Donna Saint James and left the attachment open.  Well, at least he didn’t see the email._  
  
Unfortunately for Wanda Ventham, she couldn’t have been more wrong.    
  
Benedict sat very still and continued to watch Wanda.  Finally, he reached over to the printer and pulled off the sheet of paper.  He began to read out loud from it:  
  
  
 **"Dear Donna,**  
  
 **My apologies for taking this long to get back to you.  My husband and I finally figured out why you couldn’t open my attachments.  It had to do with the way I was naming the files and your program not being able to recognize it.  It’s all sorted out now.** "  
  
“May I ask who is this Donna you’re writing to?”  
  
 _Damn, Tim!  He also left my email box open, of course he read my mail, bless him. He loves nothing more than to read other peoples’ emails.  I think it will go better if I say nothing._  
  
Wanda crossed her arms over her chest and said nothing.  
  
“Ah, taking an oath of silence then?  How convenient.  Seems like this has been going on for awhile has it?”  
  
Wanda remained silent.  
  
Benedict frowned and continued reading:  
  
 **"Let’s plan on your going to Parliament Hill Farmer’s Market on Saturday morning, as we discussed on the phone.  I have also attached directions to the market using the Northern (black) line.  It’s an easy walk from Hampstead Station.** "  
  
Benedict shook his head at Wanda sadly.  
  
“No Google map with directions to my flat included?  That way if she misses me at the market, she can simply wait on my steps until I come home.  I wonder what the plan would be for that?  I return home to find her lying on the pavement in front of my house. She pretends that she’s succumbed to the brutal heat that we don’t have this time of year. Of course, she would need to get out of the sun.  I feel bad and take her up to my flat for a cold drink of water.  Let’s see. Knowing me, I’d probably insist she have a lie down on the couch to rest up, which would lead to us having a nice chat. Then I ask her out, and we miraculously fall in love!”  Benedict snapped his fingers together.  
  
“Stop being so damn cheeky, Benedict.”  
  
Wanda re-crossed her arms and looked towards the kitchen, nose in the air.  
  
“I’m disappointed in you, Mum.  You’re usually so bloody thorough.”  
  
Benedict cleared his throat and continued reading:  
  
 **“Ben always goes around eleven and his last stop is always the Flour Station Bakery stand for a Chelsea bun.  I’m sure you’ll have no problem recognizing him, especially if you were able to open the file – Ha ha ha!   He’s very tall, so he shouldn’t be hard to find in a crowd.”**  
  
“Pity.  You missed another opportunity.  You could have included all of my measurements, including my dick.”  
  
Wanda tossed her head and started to walk towards the kitchen.  
  
“Crude doesn’t become you, Benedict. You know, I really don’t have to stand here and listen to this rubbish.”  
  
Benedict held up his hand.  “Wait!  I want to read you the big finish – in case you’ve forgotten.”  
  
 **“Ring me up anytime if you have any questions or concerns.  Looking forward to making this happen; so we can become mother and daughter-in-law!”**  
  
“This is so heart-warming that I could just puke.”  
  
Benedict crumpled the paper into a ball and tossed it onto the computer desk as he got to his feet.  
  
 _Alright. He’s got me over a barrel.  I’ll try reasoning with him._  
  
“Ben, why don’t we sit down and discuss this over a cuppa....”  
  
“I think not, Mother....”  
  
“Alright!  Over a whiskey then.  I’ll just refresh yours...”  
  
“There’s nothing to discuss....  
  
“Au contraire!  There’s plenty to discuss....”  
  
“......I can’t believe you’ve gone behind my back and done Lord knows what....”  
  
“Honestly, Ben, it wasn’t anything that awful....”  
  
“..... and I don’t think I want to know.”  
  
“Oh, Ben, if you could only meet Donna!  She’s perfect for you,” exclaimed Wanda crossing the room to the computer.  “Just let me show you her photo.  I know you’ll be as taken with her as your father and I were during the interview.”  
  
“Dad was in on this, too?”  Benedict spun around to face Wanda.  
  
“He wasn’t at first, but then he realized that this seemed like a safe and practical way of going about finding a bird for you.”  
  
“I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that Dad was a willing party to this scheme of yours....”  
  
“ _Plan_.  Scheme sounds so damn devious....”  
  
Benedict rubbed the back of his neck.  He tossed back the remainder of his whiskey.  
  
“You _both_ interviewed her then?”  
  
“Well, how else were we going to get to know her?  I couldn’t just have you meeting a complete stranger after all...”  
  
“Christ all fucking mighty!   I can’t take any more of this –  I don’t know what to call it – meddling?”  He rubbed the back of his neck.  “This is absolutely incomprehensible to me how you and Dad could....”    
  
Wanda smiled.  “Think of it as good-natured meddling, Dear.”  
  
“Enough!” Benedict shouted, throwing up his hands.  “I’ve reached my bullshit quota.  I can’t stand these rows anymore.”  
  
He removed his key ring from his trousers and began to remove keys. Wanda recognized the keys to the Kensington flat.  
  
“What in blazes are you doing, Ben?”  
  
“I’m making sure that you’ll never have to worry about my coming around without being invited any more.”    
  
“Those are your house keys, Benedict.”  
  
Benedict laid several keys on the desk.  He pointed to them as he spoke:  
  
“Here.  Since I won’t be needing these anymore:  The keys to the downstairs door, our flat door and the garage.  These are for the front, back and garage doors in Gloucestershire.  Last but not least, these are for the front and back doors of the villa in Greece.  My key ring is soooo  much lighter now.  I should have done this ages ago.”  
  
“I don’t want your keys, Benedict!  Don’t you think you’re overreacting just a bit?”  
  
“No.  If anything I’m grossly under-reacting.  Believe me, I’m screaming inside the likes of which you’ve never heard.”  
  
“You need to calm yourself.  You don’t want the ulcer to come back, do you?  Just sit down and let’s discuss this quietly.”  
  
“I think I’ve already said that there’s nothing to discuss,” Benedict said through gritted teeth.  “As for my ulcer...” he cringed and patted his stomach. “Too late.”  
  
“Take your keys back. Please.”  
  
Benedict sighed.  “I’ve already told you that I won’t be needing them. ”  
  
“How will you get in when you want to visit?”  
  
“I don’t plan to be visiting, so there’s no need.”  
  
Wanda pushed the keys across the desk towards him.  “Ben, please take back your keys, this is just spiraling out of control!”  
  
“Yes.  You have never been more right, Mother.  This whole thing is out of control, and I no longer wish to be a part of it for my own sanity.  I strongly suggest you don’t add my name to the holiday cards this year.”  
  
Benedict stormed across the lounge to the door, let himself out into the hallway and slammed the door behind him.   
  
Wanda ran after him, but he was already on his way downstairs in the lift.  She dashed to the window in time to watch him exit the house and start walking down the street towards the tube station.  Fat, hot tears were falling down Wanda’s still-pretty face.  She opened the window and called out to him.  
  
“Benedict!  Please come back!  I’m so sorry this happened!  Can't we please talk about it?  We love you!”  
  
All she got was the sight of his further retreating back.  
  
Wanda went to the desk and picked up the cordless phone.  She dialed Benedict’s mobile number.  All she got was a recording:  
  
 _The number you have dialed is not in service.  It may have been changed or disconnected.  Please check with your provider._  
  
She next dialed Benedict’s flat in Hampstead and got the same message.  
  
 _He must have rang up the phone company and arranged for different numbers while I was sleeping!_  
  
Wanda tossed the phone aside and flung herself onto the couch, sobbing uncontrollably.  Finally, when she thought there were no more tears to shed,  Wanda sat up.  She took a tissue and wiped her eyes and blew her nose.  On the end table, next to the tissue box, was a framed photo of her and Benedict when he was four years old.  His hair was white-blond, and he was smiling up at her adoringly as she held him in her arms.  The tears started up fresh all over again.  Wanda reached for the photo and hugged it to her chest tightly.  
  
“Oh, God, how selfish could I have been? What have I’ve done in the name of love?”  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Wanda Ventham and Timothy Carlton played the roles of Rosie and Hugh Buckingham in “Next of Kin”. They were hilarious, and episodes can be found on You Tube.  
> 2\. Does anyone know if cars in the UK normally have manual or automatic transmissions?  
> 3\. Not quite sure what color Adam Ackland's hair is. I've seen photos where it looks blond, then there are photos where it looks reddish blond. In this chapter we are pretending that he's strawberry blond.  
> 4\. Please note that the interval between chapter postings may start to be longer than one week. As this convoluted plot line begins to unravel, I need to take my time to ensure continuity to the best of my ability.  
> 5\. I’ll be on vacation next week, so the next chapter will be posted the following Sunday. Happy Holidays!


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of Wanda's confrontation with Benedict. Wanda and Timothy debate the pros and cons of coming clean. James gives Benedict more dating advice. Benedict and Donna have a strained lunch, as neither puts their best foot forward.

Wanda Ventham woke up from her nap with her face in a tear-soaked pillow.  Her heart was pounding, and she was sweaty and confused.  The bedside clock showed it was almost nine.  
  
 _My God!  I’ve been asleep for almost four hours. What an awful dream that was!_  
  
Wanda climbed out of bed and padded across the hall to the bathroom.  Her face was puffy, and her makeup smeared from crying.  She removed her makeup, scrubbed her face and applied some moisturizer and eye cream.    
  
 _These bad dreams are getting more frequent.  I wish there was a way to stop them!  Timothy seems to have no trouble sleeping.  I must ask him if he’s ever bothered by dreams of Benedict finding out about our plan._  
  
Wanda examined her reflection in the mirror as she brushed her graying blonde hair back and caught it in a low ponytail.    
  
 _You still look damn good for seventy-four, Wanda. You just need to lose a bit of weight…alright, more than a bit.  Now, let me see about putting a snack together.  I’m feeling a bit peckish._  
  
Wanda smoothed the duvet on the bed and fluffed the pillows.  She changed her pillowcase and changed into her pink silk lounging pajamas before leaving the room.  As she walked down the hallway, she paused to look at some of the photos of Benedict when he was younger that lined the walls.  
  
 _Look how blond he was! He was so adorable when he was a small.  Always so happy and gregarious!  Tim and I are lucky that he’s grown into such a fine man._  
  
The only light in the lounge was from the computer desk lamp.  It cast the room in deep shadows.  Wanda hesitated in the doorway.  She suddenly felt a sense of overwhelming déjà vu.   It was very much like her dream.  
  
“Tim?”  
  
No response.  
  
 _He’s either up on the roof having a smoke or in the kitchen._  
  
As Wanda passed the computer, something caught her eye.  She almost tripped over herself as she abruptly came to a halt in order to take a good look at the desk and computer screen.  As she moved closer, she spied a half-empty tumbler of whiskey on the desk.  Benedict’s photo as best man at Adam’s wedding was on the screen, and a copy of the email she had sent to Donna Saint James was in the printer tray.  
  
 _This is very odd.  It’s exactly like my dream.  All I need is Benedict to complete the scenario._  
  
“Ben?” she called out tentatively. “Ben, are you here?”  
  
Wanda stopped and sniffed the air.  
  
 _Bloody hell!  Is that cigarette smoke I smell?_  
  
“Timothy? Benedict?”    
  
Wanda slowly walked towards the archway that led into the kitchen, pausing only to switch on the lamp that sat on the end table.  Someone was definitely moving around in the kitchen.  She detected some low swearing and muttering as she got closer.    
  
 _Benedict was smoking and drinking whiskey in my dream.  This is just like my dream.  Could I still be dreaming? Perhaps I’m not awake at all._  
  
Wanda pinched herself as a tall shadow passed by on the wall beside her.  
  
 _Fuck!  That hurt.  I’m awake.  Benedict must be here!  Oh my God!  This time I really am caught.  It’s time to face the music, Wanda._  
  
Wanda took a deep breath and strode purposefully into the kitchen to find Timothy removing a tea ball from their teapot.  He was wearing earbuds and an ipod hung around his neck.  He was humming and swaying to whatever music he had on.    
  
Wanda sighed and sat down heavily on one of the kitchen chairs as Timothy turned around to place the teapot on the table that had already been laid for supper.  He smiled at her while removing the earbuds.  
  
“There you are!  Have a nice lie down then?  You looked so peaceful that I didn’t have the heart to wake you.  I was just listening to the Beatles. Shall I put them on speaker? It’s the _White Album_ – one of your favorites.”  
  
“Frankly, I wish you had woken me.  I had a God-awful lie down.  I’m surprised you didn’t find me thrashing about and having a good cry,” Wanda said sadly.  “I actually dread going to sleep lately.”  
  
Timothy set the teapot down and sat beside Wanda.  He took her hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze.  
  
“Dreaming of Benedict finding out again?”  
  
“Yes.  The dreams are getting more frequent.”  
  
“Care to tell me about it?”  
  
Wanda sighed deeply and pushed her sleeves up over her elbows.  “The theme is basically all the same.  He catches us one way or another....”  
  
“He always seems to catch _you_.  Unless, this time I was your co-star.”  
  
“This time was particularly scary and realistic.  I found him in the lounge.  He was smoking and drinking your Talisker single malt in the dark.  He had found the email with the best man photo that I sent to Donna Saint James.  It was ugly.  We had words, and he gave me back his keys to all our homes and left.”  
  
“I hope he didn’t drink up all my Talisker.  That stuff’s expensive.”  
  
“Stop trying to make light of it, Tim!  Don’t you ever dream about him finding out?”  
  
“I can’t say that I have, Wanda.  I think it’s because I often think about it during the day.”  Timothy rubbed her hand and kissed her cheek.  “It’s a dream, Darling, nothing more.”  
  
“It was so realistic though!” exclaimed Wanda, shaking her head. “And when I walked into the lounge just now, it looked exactly as it did in the dream.  I even smelt cigarette smoke...actually, I still do...,” she added with a frown.  
  
Timothy laughed and slapped his knee.  He gestured to the teapot.    
  
“What you smell is Lapsang Souchong.  The tea leaves are smoked.  I thought it would go well with the Chinese takeaway I ordered.”  
  
Wanda carefully lifted the lid off the pot and sniffed.  She wrinkled her nose in distaste.  
  
“Blimey, I hope it doesn’t taste like it smells!  Anyway, I would have sworn on my life that Benedict was in the kitchen.”  
  
Timothy spread his arms wide and gestured to the empty kitchen. “Well, as you can see, he isn’t here.  He continues to remain blissfully ignorant to our plan.”  
  
Wanda rose and got a glass of water, which she drank down with two Paracetamols.  She put the glass in the dishwasher and leaned back against the counter.  
  
“I’ve been doing alot of thinking about this, Tim; and I think you’ve been right all along. Sooner or later Benedict’s bound to find out.  I keep thinking the later it is, the worse the repercussions will be.”  
  
Timothy ran his hand through his thick, silver hair as he considered his wife’s words.    
  
“Possibly.  As I told you before, the less people who know, the less the odds are of his finding out.  You and I certainly aren’t going to tell him.  Tracy won’t from what you tell me, and whenever does he see Una?”  
  
“He’ll be working with her soon on _Sherlock_.”  
  
“I doubt she would say anything, and I trust you have sworn her to secrecy.”  
  
Wanda gazed out the kitchen window for a minute, seemingly deep in thought.  
  
“Wanda?  Are you with me, Love?”  
  
“No, Una won’t say a word.  Ben’s like a son to her.  She just wants to see him happy and settled, as do we all."  Wanda walked over to sit beside Timothy.  “Maybe we should just forget this whole thing.”  
  
“After all the effort and time _we_ put into this?  Just when we’re about to execute _our_ master plan and see it come to fruition?  I have no doubt that Benedict will absolutely adore Donna Saint James once he meets her.  And now _you_ want to toss out _our_ plan like it was yesterday’s rubbish?  Are you daft, woman?”  
  
“I notice the sudden use of ‘ _we_ ’ and ‘ _our_ ’,” smirked Wanda.  
  
Timothy smiled widely at her.   He stood up and massaged her shoulders.  
  
“My, your muscles are tight. I think you’ve got a case of cold feet is all.”  
  
“It’s more like cold feet with a huge helping of guilt thrown it.  I’m the mum here – I’m supposed to be the one who dishes out the guilt!” laughed Wanda bitterly.  
  
“And please allow me to say that you’re absolutely brilliant at it,” laughed Timothy as he kneaded her shoulders.  
  
“For whatever reason, the guilt trip always worked better on Tracy. Actually, I don’t recall having to use it on Ben too often.  ”  
  
“You didn’t need to, which is funny considering we both spoilt him rotten.  Ben’s always been very kind and considerate towards us.”  
  
The couple remained quiet for a few minutes as Timothy continued to massage Wanda’s back and shoulders.  “Better?”  
  
“Infinitely!  Seriously, on second thought I think we should go ahead and let them meet at the market.  Then we’ll tell Benedict everything once he’s hooked and tells us about her.”  
  
Timothy stopped his massage.  He threw up his hands and began to pace across the floor.  
  
“Wanda Ventham Cumberbatch, you haven’t thought this through.  Telling Benedict will absolutely ensure that your dream _will_ come true.  He will not take it kindly at all.  This is why you’re having nightmares.  Your subconscious knows what the outcome will be should he ever find out. It must always remain our secret.”  
  
Wanda nodded and sniffed.  “You’re right.  I doubt he would thank us.”  She removed a tissue from her pocket and dabbed at her nose.  
  
“That’s putting it mildly. I would think more in terms of an all-out row, ending with his storming out of here, followed by a period of estrangement most assuredly.”  
  
Wanda’s eyes began to water.  “My, aren’t you a little ray of sunshine.  I thought you were trying to soothe my guilty conscience.”  
  
“You know our son has quite the temper when sufficiently provoked, and I dare say no one is better at provoking it than you, pet.”  
  
“I don’t mean to,” said Wanda, wiping her eyes.  
  
“I know, but we need to soldier on with the plan and let nature take over.  Once they’ve met, our job is done.  We sit back and wait for the engagement announcement.  Then just think of all the fun that awaits you – an engagement party, wedding planning, a hen party, baby showers, baby sitting and Euro Disney trip planning with the grandchildren.”  
  
Wanda blew her nose.  “I’m hope they have more than one child. Donna said she definitely wants a family.”  
  
Timothy snickered. “Given the way Benedict seems to excel at everything, I have no doubt that once he starts procreating, he’ll not want to stop until they’ve got a half dozen smalls running about.”  
  
“And what if they don’t hit it off?  _We_ like Donna; but there’s always an off chance that Benedict might not fancy her or vice versa.  One of them could be having a bad day when they meet.”  
  
“Well, I think we’ve seen her at her worst,” chuckled Timothy.  “And she wound up charming the pants off of us.”  
  
“Our goal is for her to charm Ben’s pants off,” smirked Wanda.  
  
“I’m not particularly worried if things don’t go to plan.  You’re forgetting our surprise alternate. It seems our son had a rather successful date today,” Timothy said with a smile.  “He called me while he was walking home from the tube station.”  
  
Timothy noticed that Wanda suddenly perked up at hearing his words.  
  
“That bird he met at the restaurant?”  
  
“Yes, that one.  Ben’s quite taken with her.  You know he may not even give Donna Saint James the time of day if his head’s in the clouds over this one.”  
  
The front door buzzer sounded.  
  
“And that is our Chinese takeaway,” announced Timothy as he fished his wallet out of his pocket and headed into the lounge.  “Hope you’re a bit more than peckish.  I got wonton soup, spring rolls and chicken with green peppers and black bean sauce.”  
  
“Sounds fine, Love.  We can always have the leftovers for lunch tomorrow.”  
  
 _Hmmmm....I wish there was a way I could find out more about this bird he’s seeing.  I think I’ll tell him to pop around for dinner one night next week so I can pick his brain._  
  
  
**************************************************************************  
  
Monday Morning:  
  
  
Benedict Cumberbatch was happy to get a break after rehearsing Burlesque Fairytales all morning.  After a successful read-through, the director had decided to move up the rehearsal and filming schedules.  Everything was going well, but Benedict had been on set since seven and was looking forward to having a couple of hours to himself.  It had taken him a long time to unwind after his date with Donna Saint James, and he had not gotten a full eight hours sleep.  Thus Benedict woke feeling more than a little grumpy.  The constant idea of trying to somehow squeeze in lunch with Donna had caused him to flub a couple of lines. Benedict went back to his dressing room and checked his mobile for messages.  There were several texts from Donna Saint James and James Rhodes:  
  
 _Just wanted to say Good Morning and wish you luck on your first day of rehearsal!  D_  
  
 _I just had a great idea for another romantic date, should you require one.  Why not ask your pretty lady to see a show at the Globe, followed by dinner at the Swan.  J_  
  
 _I’m about to go into our Monday morning staff meeting, so you won’t be able to reach me until we get a break.  My new boss doesn’t allow cellphones in the meetings.  He says they’re a distraction.  He can be such a prick!  D_  
  
 _BTW, I miss your lips.  D_  
  
 _You know a romantic picnic on Primrose Hill is always nice.  Carluccio’s packs a brilliant lunch basket, which I’m sure you know.  Hyde Park is also nice. Suggest a nice, snuggly blanket in case you get horny and can’t keep your vow.   J_  
  
 _Just got a bathroom break!  I have exciting news!  My column on the best of family-style Christmas dinners in London has been shelved.  I’m going to be doing a special holiday article on Christmas dining in New York City.  I am so pumped for this!  This means I get to spend Thanksgiving at home with my family!  D_  
  
 _You could take in a film at the Electric Cinema and cuddle under the blankets – just remember your vow.   ;^p   Then dinner at the OXO Tower Restaurant.  J_  
  
 _Another bathroom break, which I initiated!  LOL! Can you believe the jerk asked me if I had a bladder control problem?  I just drank alot of tea this morning, and it goes right through me.  OMG – that’s TMI.  Sorry. :-(  Looks like we’ll be breaking for lunch soon.  I hope we’ll be able to meet up.  Please call or text me.  D_  
  
 _If you can bear to part with some of the money that you’re always bitching you don’t have– get a Cupid’s Capsule on the London Eye.  Pricey and ever-so-corny, but worth it I hear.  Then follow up with dinner at the Ivy.   J_  
  
 _If you won’t spring for the capsule and insist on being cheap, then dinner with a view – I know how you love the Tate Modern – go when it’s open late and you can view the latest exhibits for free.  J_  
  
 _How about an overnight in a fancy hotel room with a soaking tub for two followed by breakfast in bed the next morning?  I only suggest this if you plan on breaking your vow.  J_  
  
 _Should you decide to break your vow, I’ve got plenty of romantic getaway ideas!  I’m just waiting for the opportunity to use them on my pretty girl.  I just ran out of coffee and fags, so I really should be getting back to rehearsing now.  As you were.  Jx_  
  
 _I’m now on my way to lunch…alone.  D_  
  
Benedict checked his watch.  The last message was only five minutes old.  He rang Donna’s mobile.  She answered on the first ring.  
  
 _“Hi Benedict.”_  
  
 _Well, well, somebody’s anxious.  How did she know it was me?  Oh, you’re such a dolt, Benedict.  You put your name and number in her bloody mobile. She has caller ID.  She knew it was me._  
  
“I’m done with rehearsals until half-past two.  They’re doing some quick re-writes.  Where are you headed?”  
  
 _“I was actually on my way to M &S to get a yogurt and fruit.  Then I was going to find a bench so I could sit outside and do some reading.  It’s so nice and warm today.”_  
  
“Can you meet me at a place called Viet Noodles?  It’s on Greek Street in SoHo. Take the tube to Tottenham Court Road.  It’s a short walk from there.   I figure it’s halfway between the Tribune and the studio.  Don’t worry if you find a queue, it moves quickly.”    
  
 _“It certainly sounds better than yogurt and fruit. I’m heading to the tube now.”_  
  
“Likewise. By the way, I miss your lips, too,” he added almost shyly.  
  
 _“Hurry up then, because I plan on showing your lips just how much I missed them for dessert!”_  
  
  
  
  
Donna Saint James rounded the corner onto Greek Street and quickly scanned the storefronts for Viet Noodles.  The block was short and the restaurant was beside a Chinese restaurant called YMing that was painted bright electric blue.  
  
 _Oh, it’s the one with the line out the door.  That’s always a good sign. I also don’t see Benedict.  Not a surprise and not a good sign.  I’d better get on line and hopefully the wait won’t be too long. He did warn me there might be a line._  
  
Donna got on the end of the line and waited as patiently as she could.  The line was moving steadily, and she soon found herself at the head of the line twice.  Unfortunately, the hostess wouldn’t seat her unless Benedict was present; so Donna returned to the end of the line.  She continued to read her book in an effort to curtail her growing impatience.  Suddenly, her cellphone rang.  The caller ID showed that it was Benedict.  
  
“Hi Benedict.  Do you think you’ll be here soon?” Donna noticed a large group in front of her was called in.  This suddenly left her with only a couple standing between her and the head of the line.  
  
Benedict sounded a bit winded, as if he were rushing. _“I’m so sorry, Donna!  I’m running a bit late. Hang on a minute.....”_  
  
His voice trailed off, and she heard him yell:  _“TAXI!”_ Then she heard him get in the cab and tell the driver where he needed to go.  
  
 _Jeeze Louise! What happened to the tube?  He’s just leaving now????  He’ll never get here. I can’t afford to get back late._  
  
 _“I’m back. Sorry about that, Donna. Hold on one more second?  Sir, if you take a right at the light, and then take the sharp left you’ll find it’s a short-cut. Donna? I’m back now.”_  
  
 _Holy cow!  He’s giving the cabby directions.  I would find this funny if I weren’t so irritated._  
  
“I guess you decided to take a cab?”  
  
 _“Yeah.  I’m in the cab now.  It should only take a few minutes.  It’ll be faster than the tube this time of day.”_  
  
 _What a surprise! At least he thought to call and tell me this time. Good thing I’m here to be the place holder while he cabs over.  It must be nice to just waltz up and find your table is ready._  
  
 _“Is there a long queue?_ ” He asked hesitantly.  
  
“Yep.  You were right about the line. I’ve been on the end of it twice now. Being you’re not here yet, they keep sending me to the back of the line.  I’m just about at the entrance again.  Are you close by?”    
  
 _I would hate to have to lose our place again.  If he’s much later, we’re going to have to make other plans. I only have a little more than an hour left before I have to go back._  
  
 _“There’s almost always a queue, but it’s worth it once you get inside.  I’m just about there, so if they call you in; tell them I’m right behind you. That way they won’t send you to the back of the queue.”_  
  
 _Good gravy!  He’s not even here yet. They’re not going to seat me.  He’s such a strange man.....I should have stayed where I was and had my nice yogurt.  Lesson learned.  No meeting Benedict for lunch when there’s a time factor involved._  
  
“Benedict, I’d hurry a bit more, there’s only two people in front of me,” said Donna as she hung up and returned to reading her book.  
  
 _Damn.  I bet he’s not that close.  Now, I’m going to look stupid when they call me._  
  
“Miss?  Your table’s ready _again_!” announced a young girl from the doorway.  
  
Donna looked up from her book.  She was once again at the front of the line.  
  
 _She’s talking to me.  Great.  And he’s still not here._  
  
Donna smiled sheepishly at the girl.  “Well, my friend is...”  
  
“Right here,” Came Benedict’s deep baritone voice from behind her.  “I told you I was right behind you.”  
  
Donna turned and looked up into his ice blue eyes.  They looked very light in the bright sunshine, framed by long ginger lashes.   He leaned down, and they exchanged a brief kiss.    
  
“How about sitting down and finishing your snog at the table?  You’re holding up the queue, Mate,” snapped the man behind them, who was obviously also pressed for time.  
  
“Sorry,” Benedict said as they hurried into the tiny restaurant.  
  
“Now, I understand why there’s a line,” commented Donna as they got settled in at their small table for two.  “There must be ten tables in here.  Um, just so you know, I also don’t have much time left.”  
  
“I’m really, _really_ sorry. I hadn’t planned on being late. I remembered that you liked the mints I always have, so I ran into Fortnum and Mason as we were passing by,” Benedict smiled and handed her a small shopping bag that he had been carrying.    
  
Donna peered inside.  There was a small box of Fortnum and Mason’s special dark-chocolate covered icy mints that she had developed a taste for.    
  
 _How thoughtful and kind of him.  He remembered how much I enjoyed them.  I will forever associate those mints with him because he always tastes like them. I don’t want to be cross with him, but Jesus – I’ve got a job that I need to be back on time for. Just say thank you, Donna._  
  
Donna smiled at him. “Thank you, Benedict.  That was very sweet.”  
  
“I figured it would only take a minute to pop in, but there was this cow at the register who decided to add a box of biscuits to her order; so she took her bloody sweet time going all the way to the back of the store to find the fucking things.  What should have only taken a minute, took forever.  Before I knew it...”  
  
“You were late,” Donna stated simply.  “Good thing I had a book to keep me company.”  
  
 _Shit.  She’s not happy with me. If I keep doing this, she’s going to dump me. Mints or no mints._  
  
 _He sure does apologize alot.  Good grief. But it was still such a nice gesture.  He seems to be an impulsive little darling. He makes it hard to stay angry at him for long…but still._  
  
The waitress approached their table.  Donna noticed she gave Benedict a huge, toothy smile.  
  
“It’s nice to see you again. What can I get you?  The usual?”  
  
 _She knows him.  He’s obviously a regular._  
  
“It’s nice to be here!  Yeah.  I think I’ll have the usual,” Benedict replied with a smile.  
  
“What’s the usual?” asked Donna.  
  
“Raw beef salad and the special spicy pho.”  
  
The girl continued to smile at Benedict.  “Diet Coke to drink?”  
  
 _If she smiles any wider, her face is going to crack.  She likes him._  
  
“Diet Coke and some water, please. Donna, do you know what you’d like or do you need more time?”  
  
“I had plenty of time to study the menu while I was waiting for you.”  
  
 _Ouch.  That was a low blow. I need to get my shit together better._  
  
 _That was awfully bitchy of me.  Now, he looks hurt.  I need to watch my mouth and be more tolerant.  Patience is certainly not one of my virtues. I have to accept that he’s one of those chronically late people if we’re ever going to be in a serious relationship....just like I’m going to have to accept the fact that James is a smoker, should we get together._  
  
Donna smiled at the waitress.  “I’ll have an order of pho and a Diet Coke, please. Oh, and we’re in a hurry,” she added, looking pointedly at her watch.  
  
 _Jeez!  Why did I have to say we’re in a hurry?  I guess I’m still a bit pissed off. Maybe because the new editor likes nothing more than to call out those who return late from lunch break?  I can’t risk making him angry. I need my job!_  
  
“The service here is pretty fast,” commented Benedict, rubbing the back of his neck.   “You should have plenty of time to eat and get back to the paper on time.”  
  
“It is what it is,” said Donna matter-of-factly.  “I hate gulping my food down, so I will just take what I don’t finish to go.”  
  
 _I need to put something in my big mouth before I continue to say something else annoying and ruin everything.  Ah, the soda is here.  I’ll just shut up, drink my Diet Coke and let him do all the talking. That I know he can do with no problem._  
  
 _Shame on me.  I’ve ruined her lunch break.  All because I was late.  I should have gotten her the candy when I had more time, but I was passing right by the store.  Who knew that it was going to take that long?  I just wanted to make her happy._  
  
Benedict started to reach for her hand across the table, but Donna quickly picked up her book and put it into her handbag, along with the mints.  
  
 _Did she not notice that I wanted to hold her hand?  It seemed like she jerked it away rather suddenly.  She’s never avoided physical contact with me before. Oh, Benedict, stop imagining the worst and try again._  
  
When Donna finished arranging the contents of her bag to her satisfaction, Benedict reached over and took her hand in his.  He felt greatly relieved that she didn’t try to pull away. He caressed the back of her hand with his thumb. She looked into his eyes, as if trying to read his mind.  
  
“I know you’re not happy that I’m always late, Donna.  I _sincerely_ apologize.   It’s not that I don’t care about you or do it on purpose, I just seem to always lose track of time...I’ve always been like that. My mother will tell you that I was almost two weeks late when I was born,” he gave her his best disarming smile.  “Which probably explains why I was such a large baby.  I hung around in utero too long...I guess it was too comfy in there,” he joked. “Mum doesn’t let me forget what hard work it was giving birth to me.  She said it was like pushing out a turkey.”  
  
Donna raised her eyebrows.  She looked momentarily startled, then seemed to regain her composure. “Exactly how much did you weigh?”  
  
“Nine pounds, two ounces.”  
  
Donna snorted and sprayed a mouthful of soda onto their hands.  “Jesus!  You were huge!”  
  
 _Shit! I just spat Diet Coke all over his hand.  How classy, Donna.  I want to crawl under the table and die._  
  
Benedict covered his mouth with his other hand to stifle a laugh.  “Okay, I really _do_ understand you’re not pleased with me for being late; but did you have to spit on me, too?”  
  
“Oh, stop it! You’re so damn sassy!  You always make me laugh when I shouldn’t,” Donna giggled.  “I’m so sorry, Benedict! I’m just mortified.”  
  
“You’re rather sassy yourself, Miss Saint James, which I absolutely love about you.”  
  
Donna looked at him.  “You’re not mad?”  
  
“Not in the least. Are you?”  
  
“Not any more.  I’m sorry for being snippy.  Unfortunately, I’m a very impatient person and not proud of it. I should have explained that my new editor is a stickler about punctuality.  He loves nothing more than to read you the riot act for being as little as five minutes late. I’ve seen him fire a columnist for being ten minutes late to a meeting, and the poor guy had a perfectly valid excuse. We're all being extra careful while he's getting to know us.”  
  
“Guess I would have been fired a long time ago!” joked Benedict.  “Seriously, Donna, you need to tell me these things, okay?  Had I any idea, I’d never have stopped for the candy.  I would never want to be responsible for your getting sacked.”  
  
Donna smiled at him. “Fair enough, and I’ll try and be more understanding of Benedict Time.”  
  
Benedict watched intently as she bent down and began rummaging through her bag.    
  
 _That bag is positively terrifying! Maybe she has a roll of paper towel in there.  She’s got everything else it would seem. God, what I’d give to have ten minutes alone with that bag._  
  
“Looking for serviettes are you?”  Benedict teased.  “There’s plenty on the table.” He indicated the napkin holder on the table.  
  
Donna snorted again as she pulled out some tissues and began to blot their hands.  “These are softer; and no, I don’t make it a habit to carry napkins.”  
  
“Perhaps you should reconsider and add some sheets of paper towel then.  You never know when you’ll get the urge to spit on me again.”  
  
“You’re a real wiseass today.”  
  
“That’s because you bring out the best in me.”    
  
The waitress brought over their food and looked at them as if they were crazy.  
  
“She’s been watching us,” whispered Donna.  “She thinks we’re nuts.”  
  
“So has everyone else around us.  I suppose we might be,” remarked Benedict thoughtfully, as he unwrapped his chopsticks.  “What is that saying about like attracting like?”  
  
Donna suddenly pointed to his chopsticks.  “Wait!  Use this before you touch anything,” she exclaimed as she pulled out her hand sanitizer.  “I got my saliva on your hand.  You don’t want my germs.”  
  
Benedict leaned across the table with a devilish gleam in his eyes.  “That is a lost cause, I’m afraid.  We exchanged quite a bit of saliva last night.  Our germs have already been thoroughly mingled,” he whispered with a smug smile.  
  
“Oh.  I never considered that,” said Donna with a perplexed look on her face.  
  
 _I really hope he’s not sick or has anything bad like herpes. He’s right. It’s too late now._  
  
“I assure you, I’m germ-free, Donna.”

"As am I," she added quickly.  
  
Benedict let out a loud laugh as he took the bottle and squirted a dab into the palm of his hand.  He sniffed his hands and put the bottle on the table.  
  
“Ah...do I smell roses today?  Now, I smell like a bloody flower garden.”  
  
 Donna snickered as she finished wiping up the soda from the table.   She also used some of the hand sanitizer.    
  
“I like all kinds of scents.  I thought something floral would be nice for spring.”  
  
“Maybe you should try some more neutral scents if we’re going to be hanging out together,” he teased. “My favorite is the one that smelled like popcorn, though the cinnamon one was rather nice.  It evoked memories of my mum’s kitchen at Christmas.”  
  
“I have pine, peppermint and gingerbread scents for Christmas.”  
  
 _I bet you do,_ thought Benedict with amusement.  _I can’t wait to smell what the summer brings._  
  
Benedict ate some of his beef salad, as Donna tried some of her pho.  He picked up some of his beef salad in his chopsticks and held it out to Donna to taste.  
  
“You have to try this, it’s amazing.”  
  
 _He already ate off those. How would it look if I used mine to help myself?  It would look rude.  I could say I don’t like raw beef, but he knows I’ve had it if he’s read all my reviews._  
  
Benedict stared at her.  Then he laughed and rolled his eyes at her.  “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Donna!  Your tongue spent a good part of last night in my mouth.  There’s not an inch that you didn’t explore to my great pleasure.  I think we’ve reached the point where we can risk eating off each others utensils.”  
  
Donna felt herself blush.  She looked down at the table then up at him.  He was smiling widely at her, eyes twinkling with amusement.  
  
 _He has a valid point there.  Looks like we’ve now progressed to sharing food._  
  
Donna leaned over and accepted the food off his chopsticks.  She chewed slowly and savored the complex flavors.  
  
“Oh, this is absolutely scrumptious....the texture and the flavors just pop! There’s a distinctive flavor that I can’t quite put my finger on.  It’s in the pho, too.  Do you have any idea what it is?”  
  
Benedict continued to eat his salad.  “It’s our saliva,” he deadpanned.  
  
Donna sighed and allowed him to feed her another taste of his salad.  “Your point has been made and taken.  I’m being silly.”  
  
“You are a very silly girl, and I love it.”  
  
 _I could just let myself go and fall in love with her....I almost said ‘and I love you’.  It’s too soon.  We need to grow and nourish the relationship some more._  
  
 _He looks so dreamy-eyed and pensive.  I wonder what he’s thinking._  
  
Benedict pushed the empty plate aside and started to eat his pho.  “They make a special fish paste sauce here.  That’s what gives everything that extra zing.”  
  
Donna looked at her watch and sighed sadly.  “I’m going to have to leave soon.”  
  
“I wish we had more time together, but I’m also due back at rehearsal.  It’s my fault, and I deeply apologize for my chronic lateness.”  
  
“It’s alright, Benedict.  I apologize for being short with you before.  My temper tends to flare quickly, but it cools down pretty fast.  I so love the fact that you cared enough to bring me a special treat today.  I’m impressed as hell that you remembered how much I liked those mints. I appreciate that you called to let me know you were running late rather than not knowing what’s going on.”  
  
 _She’s not really angry with me!  What a relief! Now, I can ask her about James’ concert.  Maybe if I plead my case just the right way._  
  
Benedict laid down his chopsticks.  He poured the rest of the soda out of the can into his glass.    
  
“Donna, is there anyway I could persuade you to cancel your plans tomorrow night and go out with me instead?”  
  
Donna looked up from her bowl, noodles hanging out of her mouth.  She quickly slurped them up, chewed and swallowed.  
  
 _What? Is he kidding?  I’m going to James’ concert tomorrow night. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.  I promised James I’d be there.  What makes him think he can ask me to change my plans just like that?_  
  
Donna put down her chopsticks, propped her elbows on the table and folded her hands.  “No, Benedict, there isn’t anything you can say or do.  I’ve had these plans, and they can’t be changed.  Besides we have plans for Thursday night.”  
  
Benedict sighed and crinkled his nose at her. “It’s just that one of my best friends gave me tickets.....”  
  
 _Oh, that sounded like whining, Benedict.  Don’t whine.  It’ll only turn her off.  Olivia hated whenever you did that._  
  
 _I love when he crinkles his nose like that -  it’s so cute; but it’s not going to work this time._  
  
“Benedict, I’m afraid you’re going to have to go without me to whatever it is that you have tickets for.  I appreciate that you offered, and I’m flattered that you want me to come so badly; but I can’t.”  
  
 _I’ll give sad and disappointed a try.  That usually works better than whining._  
  
Benedict gazed at her sadly with puppy-dog eyes, his lower lip forming a slight pout.    
  
 _Jesus!  I hate when he does that.  It’s worse than the cute nose crinkle.  I could so easily cancel and say I’m sick; but I also really want to hear James play.  This is an important night for him; and I’m honored that he invited me.  Be strong, Donna.  Resist Benedict’s charms._  
  
“I’ll see you Thursday night, okay?”  
  
“I suppose.”  
  
“Please stop pouting, Benedict.”  
  
Benedict smiled thinly.  “I don’t pout.”

_Of course you don’t.  I’ll just humor him._  
  
 _Am I pouting?  I’m not aware of it.  I thought that was me being sad and disappointed. Shit! I need to work on my sad and disappointed more._  
  
“Thursday night we can review the highlights of snogging versus making out if you’d like,” smiled Donna as she took her handbag and stood up.  She stole a quick peek under the table at his feet. He was wearing red and pink polka dot socks.  
  
“I was out of owl socks today. I hope you’re not too disappointed,” chuckled Benedict.  
  
“This sounds crazy, but I think I actually look forward to seeing them,” laughed Donna.  “I’ve got to get back to the paper, Benedict. Big Brother's watching the clock.”  
  
Benedict started to get up.  “I just need to pay...”  
  
Donna patted his arm.  “Please don’t get up.  Finish your pho.  Thanks for the delicious lunch.  Call me tomorrow when you have a break.”  
  
She leaned down and kissed him gently on the lips.  He kissed her back, parting her lips with his slightly so he could gain access.  He felt tingles all the way down his spine to his feet as the tips of their tongues briefly touched.    
  
“You should be aware that we may have just swapped some saliva,” observed Benedict dryly.  
  
“As long as it’s yours.  I’ll take the risk,” winked Donna Saint James as she left the restaurant.  
  
Benedict watched Donna walk away, hips slightly swaying.  
  
 _God, her bum looks gorgeous in that slim skirt.  Someday....._  
  
He felt a bit disappointed that he couldn’t convince her to break her plans and go out with him.  He pondered his choices as he slurped his noodles and drank the broth.  Benedict wiped his lips on a napkin and took out his mobile.  He rang his niece, Emily.  
  
 _“Hello?”_  
  
“Hi Emmy! It’s Ben.”  
  
 _“Hi Uncle Ben!  I thought you were in rehearsals.”_  
  
“I am.  I’m still on my lunch break.  I was wondering if you’d like to accompany me to see Jimmy in concert tomorrow night with a late supper afterwards.  I’ve got an extra ticket, and I know you enjoy classical music.”  
  
Emily hesitated.  _“I’d really love to, but I should be finishing up my paper that’s due Friday.”_  
  
“It’s only for a couple of hours.  You don’t even have to come out and eat with us.  I’ll make your excuses, and I know Jimmy won’t mind.  He’d be happy to see you in the audience.”  
  
 _“Where’s the supper going to be?”_  
  
“My, aren’t we all about the free food.”  
  
 _“I’m just curious.”_  
  
“Hmmmm...curiosity does run in our family. Grand Imperial for late night dim sum.”  
  
 _“Ooooooo...I think you’re persuading me.”_  
  
“Perhaps I should have mentioned dim sum before the concert.”  
  
 _“You’re a terrible tease, Uncle Ben! Now, why is it that a handsome man like you wants to take his niece to the concert? There must be some lovely woman out there who you’d rather take as a date yes?”_  
  
“Erm...if I tell you something in confidence, do you promise not to repeat it to Gran?”  
  
Emily giggled on the other end of the line.  _“Oh, oh...this can only mean it has something to do with a woman.  Tell, tell, please.  I swear on all that is holy that I won’t breathe a word.”_  
  
“There’s someone I’ve been seeing.”  
  
 _“Do I know her?”_  
  
“No.”  
  
 _“I was hoping you had secretly gotten back with Olivia.”_  
  
Benedict sighed deeply.  “I’ve told you a hundred times that’s _not_ going to happen.  Anyway, I asked this woman to go; and it turns out she has plans.  Today we had lunch, and I asked her to reconsider.  Unfortunately, there was no budging her from her decision.”  
  
 _“Is it because she’s going out with someone else?”_  
  
“Yeah, I’m not the only one she’s dating. There’s a prick out there somewhere competing for her affections.”  
  
“People don’t like to get tied down right away, Uncle Ben.  They want to explore all their options. I’ve been dating three different guys since last year. There’s no need to make a commitment so soon.  I’m having a great time! You really need to loosen up and give open dating a try.”  
  
 _Out of the mouths of babes.  Christ.  She has no idea how badly I want to be tied down, and I really think Donna’s the one I want to be tied to._  
  
“The long and short of it is, I have an extra ticket and don’t feel like going alone. You fancy classical music.  Not to mention all the dim sum you can eat. How about it?”  
  
 _“Hmmm...free food for a starving student, plus awesome entertainment – not to mention your company. You talked me into it, Uncle Ben!  Fuck the paper.  I’ll finish it Thursday night.”_  
  
“That’s my girl!  I’ll email you the name and address of the theatre.  I’ll wait for you in the stalls bar, and we’ll get a drink before the concert.”  
  
Emily laughed.  _“More like I’ll be waiting for you in the stalls bar!”_  
  


 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Benedict mentioned in an interview that Viet Noodles is one of his favorite places. I have never been there.  
> 2\. I haven’t a clue how movie rehearsals work. We’ll pretend Benedict gets a lunch break for the purposes of this story.  
> 3\. I wanted to show Donna and Benedict’s not-so-nice sides because let’s face it – no one can be loveable and perfect all the time.  
> 4\. Anyone catch one of my favorite Cabin Pressure lines?


	37. Chapter 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Benedict and Donna attend James’ concert. Twisting paths converge with surprising and unhappy results. There is a lot of crisscrossing of characters’ thoughts in this chapter, so hold on tight!

  
  
Donna Saint James walked into the Ambassadors Theatre in the West End feeling very much on edge. She was feeling a combination of excitement at hearing James play and nervousness at meeting Tim’s son.  The opulent red and gold lobby was fairly crowded as Donna milled about before deciding to use the bathroom prior to the concert’s start.    
  
 _Maybe I’ll give Benedict a call to say hello, thought Donna as she impatiently  waited in the long line to use the toilet.  Just like at home.  Always a long line for the ladies room, yet no line for the mens room._  
  
Donna had last seen Benedict at Viet Noodles the day before and still found herself missing his company.  They had spoken briefly in the morning when he had a break in filming and exchanged some texts. She longed to hear his silky baritone voice. Unfortunately, there was no signal downstairs in the bathroom; causing her to huff and toss her cellphone back in her handbag.  
  
“Don’t you just hate it when you have time to kill and can’t get a signal?” asked a voice from behind her.  Donna turned to see a short, slender girl with long, honey-colored hair.  The girl wore a pair of bright blue-framed glasses, which brought out the blue of her eyes. Donna guessed her to be college-age.     
  
“Yes, I do,” Donna laughed.  “And it’s very frustrating.”  
  
“It’s almost as bad as waiting for someone who is perpetually late,” sighed the girl.   “My date is already fifteen minutes late; but to be fair, I was warned about him.”  
  
 _Gosh, there’s more than one Benedict out there and the poor thing must have one.  They should come with warning labels._  
  
“I can sympathize with you there, also.  There’s nothing worse.”  
  
“Especially when you’re the one who’s on time!” the girl giggled.  
  
“Isn’t it always like that?” mused Donna.  
  
The bathroom matron beckoned to Donna that a toilet was vacant.  
  
“Enjoy the concert, then,” the girl said to Donna with a smile.  
  
“You, too; and I hope you don’t have to wait too much longer for your date.”

  
  
  
  
  
Benedict Cumberbatch checked his watch as he hurried from the Leicester Square Tube Station towards the Ambassadors Theatre.  He had texted his niece, Emily, to wait for him down in the stalls bar.    
  
 _Not bad, Benedict!  You should arrive in plenty of time to buy Emmy a drink and get to your seats before curtain._  
  
Benedict entered the crowded lobby and made his way towards the downstairs stall bar.  The small lobby was densely packed with people trying to make their way inside to the theatre.  The staircase to the ladies restroom and stalls bar was lined with people going up and down.  As Benedict waited patiently on the landing for a clear step, he spied Donna Saint James coming up the stairs towards him.  He quickly stepped aside and waited for her to reach the landing.  
  
 _My God, it’s Donna!  My night has been made!  I wonder where she’s sitting? She appears to be alone, but the prick could be sat down already or he could be anyone of these guys surrounding me._  
  
“Donna! What a nice surprise!” exclaimed Benedict as he took her gently by the elbow and guided her to an empty space against a wall.  
  
“Benedict!” Fancy meeting you here!”  
  
Benedict’s heart raced as he watched her face visibly light up at the sight of him. He leaned down and gave her a peck on both cheeks.  He was pleasantly surprised when she pulled him into a brief hug, which he gladly reciprocated.  
  
“Are you alone?” he asked as he slyly glanced around the lobby.  
  
“Benedict, I had no idea this was what you had tickets for,” laughed Donna as she cocked her head and fixed him with a look.  “Now, you know I’m not alone.  Well, I’m sitting alone; but I’m not actually alone.”  
  
 _What in the fuck does that mean?  Either you’re alone or you’re on a date?  How can it be both? OH, you are such a dolt, Benedict!  That bastard she’s seeing probably works backstage.  James will know.  He knows everything._  
  
Donna looked up at the lobby clock.  “I think we’d better find our seats – the concert starts soon.”  
  
“I have to find my date first. When you so graciously explained to me that you had other plans,  I invited my niece to join me,” explained Benedict, as he scratched his earlobe.    
  
 _Your sarcasm isn’t lost on me, Benedict.  I was a bit  - what’s that word he uses? – ah, yes, cheeky -  with you yesterday. You’re not happy that I’m on a date. Message delivered._  
  
“We’re supposed to meet in the stalls bar.  Come down so I can introduce you, and I’ll buy you a drink.”  
  
Donna hesitated.  _I really want to buy a program and get settled in my seat._  
  
“I’m really not thirsty, Benedict.  How about we meet here in the lobby after the concert, and you can introduce us?  Which niece is here?”  
  
Donna noticed that he rubbed the back of his neck, as if he were uncomfortable. His ice blue eyes darted around the lobby trying to spot her.  
  
“I’m with Emily tonight. She’s the one we had the birthday dinner for the night I called you from the coat wardrobe.  We’ll meet back here then, and you can introduce me to your date being he’s not sitting with you.  Cheers,” said Benedict abruptly as he turned and disappeared down the stairs.  
  
 _Well, that was fucking uncomfortable!_ thought Benedict as he descended the stairs.  _You’d hardly know we were so intimate just the other night.  We’re getting so close, I can’t believe she’d want to see someone else.  I can’t wait to see what the prick looks like.  I bet he’s a sound guy or stage hand.  Shit, he could even be the director or one of the producers. First,  I need to find Emmy and our seats.  I almost forgot that James’ date will be sitting in our row.  I need to collect my manners so I can make a decent impression._  
  
  
  
   
  
Donna had noted the sad expression on Benedict’s face and made her way towards the door that led into the theater.  
  
 _That was rather awkward!  I didn’t know whether I should have kissed him. He greeted me more like a friend than a boyfriend.  Then again we haven’t exactly discussed that. Benedict is dying to check out the competition. He is really uncomfortable that I’m here with someone else. He’s wearing the pouting face.   Well, at least Benedict won’t know James personally. Wouldn’t it be funny if Benedict knew Tim’s son?_  
  
Donna glanced back over her shoulder to see if Benedict and his niece had come up yet.  There was no sign of them.  
  
 _Once the concert’s done, I’m supposed to meet James at the stage door; so that will be the end of any further anxious situations.  I’ll meet Benedict and his niece and chat for a few minutes. Perhaps I’ll even bring Tim’s son along, if he turns out to be nice.  That would help to diffuse any tension. I bet Tim’s son was invited to the dinner since he and James are old friends.  I should have thought to ask his name._  
  
Donna took one last look around the lobby before she got to the entrance.  Still no sign of Benedict.  
  
 _Benedict looks very nice tonight.  I love his camel and brown tweed jacket with the brown trousers.  He looks so very cuddly in that camel turtleneck.  His long neck just lends itself perfectly to a turtleneck. He must be caught up on his laundry. Ha ha ha. Everything looks very put together.  Even the cream-colored scarf.  Always with a scarf -  I guess he’s feeling cold._  
  
Donna bought a program and entered the theater.  Her seat was all the way down in the front.  It was the fifth row and in the center; affording her with a perfect view of the stage.  The seat on her right contained a very tall, older man, with medium brown hair and droopy-looking eyes, who smiled and said hello to her.  
  
 _He certainly can’t be Tim’s son.  He’s too old._  
  
The seat to her left was empty.

  
_I’m so excited that I can’t sit still!  I can’t wait to meet Benedict’s niece and Tim’s son.  I wonder if he looks like Tim?_

  
  
  
  
  
  
By the time Benedict reached the stalls bar, the area had pretty much cleared out as people had returned upstairs to take their seats. He gazed around the bar, but there was no one near it.    
  
 _Bloody fucking hell!  Where is Emily?  Maybe she went upstairs to have a fag before the show?  Maybe she’s in the loo?_  
  
Benedict pulled out his mobile and checked it.  There was no signal down there.  His impatience was mounting.  
  
“Bloody hell!” he muttered angrily to himself. “How am I _ever_ going to find her?”  
  
“Hi Benedict!  I was wondering where you were,” said Heather MacPherson; who was suddenly standing at his elbow.  “I’ve been waiting for over half an hour.”  
  
Benedict blinked and stared into Heather’s blue eyes uncomprehendingly.  
  
 _What in the hell is Emmy’s roommate doing here?_  
  
“Um, where’s Emily?” asked Benedict, sounding a bit annoyed.  “I’m supposed to be meeting her here.  She never mentioned that you would be joining us. Do you have a ticket?”  
  
Heather giggled.  “Originally, I wasn’t supposed to.  Emily’s maths professor wound up giving them extra work, which she has to do tonight.  It was a last minute thing; so she asked me if I wanted to take her place and keep you company.”  
  
Benedict opened his mouth, then quickly closed it.  He studied her with narrowed eyes.  
  
 _This reeks of a set up.   I don't believe Emmy has extra work. She plotted with Heather to take her place.  Well done, Emmy; but you didn’t take into consideration what my reaction would be.  What really pisses me off is that Emmy knows I’m seeing someone, but I guess she assumed Heather could change my mind._  
  
Heather felt uncomfortable as Benedict’s handsome face clouded over.  She felt her cheeks redden.    
  
 _Damn! So much for Emily and her idea that her uncle should try open dating without his knowing.  He suspects she planned this.  He’s not happy about it either.  I can see him clenching his jaw. I need to say something!_  
  
“Emmy also knows how much I adore classical music,” added Heather, now looking a bit nervous, as she shifted her weight from foot-to-foot.  “It happens to be my favorite type of music.”  
  
 _Oh, I just bet it is,_ thought Benedict miserably, as he rubbed the back of his neck.  _Such a coincidence! This is just bloody well wonderful! Just what I didn’t want!!!_  
  
Heather’s eyes briefly locked with Benedict’s. She could see the anger in them. She was feeling more uncomfortable by the minute.  
  
 _Why did I let Emmy talk me into this?  She said he was already going out with someone.  I doubt he’s going to start to fancy me and forget her after just one evening._  
  
Heather began grasping for things to say.  “I...uhm...I’m a fan of James Rhodes.  I bought his CD, _Razor Blades, Little Pills and Big Pianos,_   when it came out in February.  He’s absolutely brilliant!  I was shocked when Emmy told me you two were mates...and then when she couldn’t come tonight and asked me to take her place....well, how could I say no?”    
  
Benedict was fuming. _Very easily:  No._    
  
“I just wish that Emmy would have called to let me know there was a change in plans...” Benedict trailed off.  He could see that Heather knew he wasn’t happy.  
  
Heather hung her head and looked at the floor.  “I’m sorry, Benedict.  You’re right.  Emmy should have told you.  We just thought that it would be fun to surprise you.”    
  
 _Oh, I sure was surprised. I can’t even begin to tell you how livid I am actually. I could just piss myself from all the fun I’m not having right now._  
  
 _He’s surprised, but not in a good way.  I’d better back out of the dinner._  
  
Heather’s face was red.  “Emmy told me there’s a dinner afterwards, but I can’t go to that.  I need to get back to the dorm early.”  
  
 _She knows I’m not happy.  Where are your manners, Benedict?  I do believe I checked them at the door as soon as I saw Heather and figured out what was transpiring here. Take a deep breath and make the best of it, Benedict.  At least you aren’t alone._  
  
“Why don’t you see how you feel after the concert.  Perhaps you’ll be hungry and change your mind.  Have you eaten?”  
  
“I had a small spinach salad with grilled chicken.  It’s one of the better things you can get at the Uni’s canteen.”  
  
 _For fuck’s sake! Lunch was hours ago.  She must be famished._  
  
Benedict ran his tongue over his lower lip and removed the two tickets from his wallet.  He studied them as if he had never seen them before.  Then he looked down at the young girl before him as her stomach gurgled loudly and did his best to smile warmly at her.    
  
“I can’t have you sat in the stalls with a growling stomach.  Let’s get you a snack to tide you over before the concert starts, shall we?” he asked Heather, as he took her elbow and guided her towards the concessions counter.  
  
 _Okay.  Maybe this will work.  I’ll flirt just a little with him._  
  
Heather smiled widely at him and batted her eyelashes.  “I won’t lie.  I’ve had my eye on the extra large box of caramel popcorn and a large Coke.”  
  
 _I’ve also had my eye on you, you adorable man; but I can wait.  I’m patient._  
  
Benedict stared at her and started to giggle.  _Well, I was right about that.  She’s certainly hungry._  
  
 _Oh, oh.  He must think I’m being a pig. I’m just so damn hungry._  
  
“We can share,” Heather added quickly.  “I’m germ-free,” she added.  “Emmy said you’re wary of germs.”  
  
 _I bet we can.  I’m sure you want to share more than popcorn. And if I do anything to encourage you – no matter how small - you’ll be looking for wedding gowns by next week.  I am so pissed off  right now, I can’t see straight. Wait until I get Emmy!  This reminds me of something Mum would have orchestrated.  She’s spending too much time with her._  
  
  


  
  
  
Donna Saint James sat in her seat and eased off her high heels as she read the program for the night’s concert.  
  
 _Ah, that feels better.  These shoes are too tight. I kept thinking the leather would stretch, but not as much as I had hoped.  I’d better throw them out when I get home._  
  
Donna’s text chime went off, alerting her that there was a message.  It was from her sister, Carly:  
  
 _How’s your seat?  C_  
  
 _Great!  Fifth row, center. Plenty of leg room.  It has to be a house seat that the performers get for family and friends.  D_  
  
 _Tell James we said good luck or break a leg or whatever one is supposed to say.  C_  
  
 _It’ll have to be after the concert.  He’s backstage and it’s set to start in about ten minutes.  D_  
  
 _Steve and I had such a good time with him last night.  That was one of the most fun reviews we’ve gone on.   I hope he’s a keeper!  C_  
  
 _That was only our second date.  Tonight’s the third.  D_  
  
 _Mom and Dad would love his quirky sense of humor.  C_  
  
 _Mom would tell him to shave off the beard, cut the hair and have the tattoo removed. LOL  D_  
  
 _I meant to ask you about the tattoo.  What does it say?  C_  
  
 _Sergei Rachmaninov.  It’s in Cyrillic lettering. D_  
  
 _How fitting for a pianist. You’re probably right about Mom. C_  
  
 _Sadly, he smokes. A lot.  It may wind up being a deal-breaker.   D_  
  
 _Maybe you can reform him. Anyway, have fun!  C_  
  
As Donna was about to turn off her cellphone, it rang.  It was Benedict speaking in a low voice:  
  
“It’s Benedict. Where are you sitting? I can’t seem to find you.”    
  
“I’m in the fifth row, center.  There’s a very tall man with brown hair on my right and two empty seats on my left.  I hope I get a nice person on my left.”  
  
Benedict chuckled.  “Oh, I think I can absolutely  _guarantee_ that.  I’ll be right there.”  
  
Donna looked up to see Benedict and the girl from the bathroom standing at the entrance to her row.  He gave her a slight wave while they waited for the people already seated to make room for them to pass.

  
  
  
  
  
  
Benedict and Heather walked down the aisle, looking for their seats.  Heather sadly noted that he was making no attempt at conversation with her.  
  
 _This was such a bad idea!  It didn’t seem so at the time though.  He was so nice to me at Emmy’s birthday dinner.  He talked and talked, and we had so many good laughs.  He seemed to  fancy me.  I wonder what I did wrong?_  
  
“Which stall are we in, Benedict?” Heather noticed that Benedict was suddenly preoccupied with his mobile and looked up with irritation that she had bothered him with her question.  
  
He sighed deeply. “Erm...let me see.  They’re house seats, so I know it’s pretty close to the front,” he frowned as he studied the tickets.  “Um...yes, we’re in Stall E, seats nine and ten.”  
  
 _Good thing I’m here to act as the guide,_ thought Heather crossly.  _He had no idea where we were sitting. He’s really been acting like a dickhead.  If he wasn’t Emmy’s uncle; and I didn’t fancy him so much, I’d tell him to sod off!_  
  
“Fancy a program, Heather?” Benedict asked in an off-handed way.  
  
“Yes.  I have money.  If you could just open my bag. I’ve got twenty quid rolled up on the bottom...”  She stood sideways so he could open the bag that hung from her shoulder.  
  
Benedict pulled a fiver out of his wallet. “I’ve got it, Heather.  Really.  There’s no need...”  
  
“You don’t have to, Benedict....”  
  
“Pleeeeasssse, Heather.  I want to.”  
  
Heather did a double take.  _Did he just whine at me?  He did! I can’t believe he actually whined at me!  I could never take a steady diet of that, Emmy’s uncle or not._  
  
Benedict huffed and waited impatiently to buy her a program.  Heather noticed his eyes nervously scanning the audience as they waited for their turn.    
  
 _He’s looking for someone.  He’s been jumpy and anxious since he walked into the bar.  I know he doesn’t want to be with me.  He probably wishes I’d just leave.  Maybe one of his posh friends is supposed to be here and he’d rather talk to them._  
  
“Here you go,” Benedict absently held out the program to her.  
  
“My hands are full right now.  I’ll take it when we sit down,” said Heather as they walked a bit more.    
  
Just about everyone was seated, and Heather sighed with relief as she stopped in front of Stall E.  “This is our stall,” she said wondering how she was going to maneuver down the row with her huge box of caramel corn and soda.  
  
However, Benedict wasn’t listening to a word she had uttered.  He had rung someone on his mobile, and whatever the person on the other end said made him smile.  Then he looked across their stall and smiled ever wider.  He gave a little wave to someone already seated in the stall.  
  
 _Benedict doesn’t even know I’m here, nor does he care.  However, there is someone here whom he seems to be most interested in.  His face just lit up like a bloody Christmas tree when he looked down the stall.  Now, he only has eyes for whoever he just waved to.  His face is going to crack if he smiles any wider._  
  
Heather craned her neck to see who Benedict was so enthralled with.  It was the dark-haired American woman from the bathroom.

  
  
  
  
  
  
Donna smiled and waved to Benedict.  She watched his face as it clouded over briefly.  He then indicated to the girl that she should move into the row and take the seat beside Donna.  The girl shook her head and said something to him.  
  
 _How cute.  He seems to be wrestling with the idea of who should be the one to sit beside me.  Good manners dictate that she should enter the row first.  Oh, oh.  Not so cute. They’re having a debate. Neither of them look happy.  The people who stood up and are waiting for them to pass don’t look very happy either.  Oh my God! They’re arguing about which of them is going to sit next to me.   The lady in the second seat and the man standing in the aisle  just said something to them._

  
  
  
  
  
  
“Go ahead, Heather,” said Benedict indicating that she should enter the stall ahead of him.  
  
 _If I go in first, he’ll assuredly be leaning all over me to talk to her.  Wait!  Is that Derren Brown I see sitting near our seats?  Oh, I’d love to sit beside him.  Let Benedict sit next to his American friend._  
  
“It’s okay, Benedict.  You can go in first.  I might have to get up and use the loo during the performance.”  
  
“Not if you’re in the middle of the row.  They’ll be pissed at you for having to get up.  Don’t drink all that soda at once.  Just sip at it.”  
  
“I’ll definitely have to use the loo after the concert then.  If I go in last, I won’t have to wait for you to get up.  I can just dash off so I don’t have to wait in a long queue.”  
  
“You can’t just dash off from where we’re sitting.....”  
  
“I know you’d rather sit next to your friend, whoever she is,” sneered Heather. “Besides, I rather fancy sitting next to Derren Brown – I just love him!  Maybe I can get his autograph.”  
  
Benedict gritted his teeth as he rapidly lost patience.  “I know.  Everyone just loves Derren,” sneered Benedict.  “I’ll get it for you.  He’s a friend.  Now, please sit down like a good girl,” he said curtly.  
  
“Excuse me?  That was rather cheeky!  Leave your posh manners at home did you?  You can just bugger off!” said Heather sharply, voice rising.  
  
“Frankly, I don’t care if he left them on the bloody tube.  I just want to sit down!” complained the man who had been seated on the aisle and gotten up for them to pass.  
  
“Shhhhh, Heather!  You’re attracting attention!” snapped Benedict.    
  
“Sir, can you please just park your bum in either one of those bloody seats?  Then you can argue amongst your selves until the concert starts for all we care. We’re getting tired of standing here while you’re debating as if you were in Parliament!” exclaimed an angry woman who had been sitting in the second seat.  “We’re not going to stand here all night waiting for you two to sort out who is going to sit where.”  
  
“I’m not particularly fond of standing out here in the aisle,” added the man, who was standing beside Benedict.  “Either sit down or go to the lobby to finish airing your dirty laundry.”  
  
Heather smiled graciously.  “We’re sorry.  Go ahead, _Dear_ ,” she said giving Benedict a little shove towards the stall.  “And don’t you dare forget my autograph,” she hissed at him.  
  
As Benedict passed by Derren Brown, the illusionist smiled up at him and shook hands. “Always a pleasure, Benedict.  When James told me you were coming, I knew we’d be in for a treat.  I just didn’t realize he meant pre-show entertainment.”

  
  
  
  
  
   
  
Donna watched as Benedict entered the row.  He paused to greet a man two seats down from her, whom he addressed as ‘Derren’, and came to sit in the seat beside her.  Whatever disagreement he had had with the girl seemed to be over.  He looked so happy – as if he would burst.   He gently patted her hand and whispered in her ear.  
  
“I told you that you’d have a nice seatmate,” Benedict smiled smugly at her and winked.    
  
“Yes.  You did guarantee me,” laughed Donna quietly.  “Now, where is he?” she teased, as she pretended to look around.  
  
“Feeling cheeky tonight are we?” asked Benedict as he crossed his right leg over his left.  
  
 “Hello, Benedict!  James told me you’d be here,” said the man sitting beside Donna.  
  
“Excuse me,” Benedict said to Donna as he leaned over to shake the man’s hand. “How are you, Stephen?”  He also addressed the man beside Stephen, “Cheers, Daniel.”  
  
“Very well,” Stephen replied.  He then looked at Donna, who had leaned back as far as she could in her seat, so they could chat.  “My apologies, Love. It wasn’t our intent to smother you,” he laughed heartily and patted her arm.  
  
“No problem,” she replied.  
  
“Donna, this is my friend, Stephen Fry,” said Benedict.  “Stephen,  Donna Saint James...my...”  
  
 _Girlfriend?  Friend? Pal? Woman I might be falling in love with?_  
  
“.....dear friend.”  
  
Donna stared at Benedict, eyebrows raised in question.  
  
 _Hmmm...I’m a dear friend.  I thought I qualified for more than that after Sunday night._  
  
“A pleasure,” said Stephen Fry, taking Donna’s hand and kissing it lightly.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Meanwhile, Heather’s text chime went off. It was Emily:  
  
 _How’s it going?  Having fun?  I bet he was surprised? ROTFL   E_  
  
 _Fucking awful! Your uncle’s been acting like a complete and utter twat. I’d leave if it weren’t that Derren Brown is sitting right next to me and Stephen Fry is a few seats down the stall!  I told him I expect him to get me autographs being they’re his friends.  H_  
  
 _I think that’s because it reminded him of something my Gran would do.  He tends to sulk, but gets over it quickly.  It’ll all be fine.  Give him a chance. Turn on your charms, and he’ll forget all about that woman he’s been pining over. Call me after its over.  E <3_  
  
Heather settled herself and tapped lightly Benedict on the arm.  He was whispering in the American’s ear, and they were both giggling like they were back in secondary school.  
  
 _What’s wrong with him?  I want to read my program, and I also want to know who this woman is that he seems so interested in.  She’s the one he was looking all over for.  Maybe she’s  one of his actor friends or even a writer or director.  He seems to fancy her, though._  
  
Heather took a deep breath, and tapped Benedict on the arm a bit harder as she leaned out of her seat a bit to get his attention.  
  
“Excuse me, Benedict?  Can I _please_ have my program?”

  
  
  
  
  
  
“Well, you were the last person I expected to sit here,” began Donna in a whisper, as she leaned close to Benedict.  
  
“Is that a bad thing?” asked Benedict, raising an eyebrow at her.  “Were you hoping for someone better?  I can assure you that Prince William will not be here.”  
  
“No, not at all!  It’s always nice to have company rather than sitting by yourself is all I meant. Having your company is an unexpected bonus.”  
  
Benedict leaned closer to Donna, so their heads were touching.  “I’m really glad that we’re able to sit next to each other.”  
  
Suddenly, he felt a hand tapping insistently on his left arm; followed by Heather’s voice:   “Excuse me, Benedict?  Can I _please_ have my program?”  
  
Benedict rolled his eyes.  _Ah, the ever-present-Heather intrudes into my personal space!  I’m calling Emily as soon as I get home.  If I didn’t know better, I’d think Mum had arranged this._  
  
Donna indicated Heather with her head and touched Benedict’s hand lightly.  “I do believe  your niece would like her program, Benedict.”  
  
Benedict finally turned his attention to Heather.  “Here you are,” he said as he handed her the program.  “Erm ..Heather, this is Donna Saint James.  Donna, this is Heather...”  
  
What in the fuck is her last name? My mind is a total blank.  Wait a minute...it’s an Irish last name.  
  
“....Erm....MacInerny...no...McIntosh...nope....McAvoy.  Ha ha ha!  That’s definitely not it. I’ve got an actor friend named McAvoy.  Christ, I’m such rubbish with names.”

Donna narrowed her eyes and looked from Heather to Benedict and back again.  
  
 _And what a fine and splendid  example he’s giving us.  He’s really waffling this time...I can definitely hear his lisp. He doesn’t know what her last name is?  How can you not know a family member’s last name? Wait a minute.  Something’s not right.  I thought he said he was bringing his niece, Emily.  This girl’s name is Heather.  This is the girl I was chatting with in the bathroom, and she was waiting for her date,  who was always late.  She was talking about Benedict. What gives here?  Now that I take a good look at her, she’s definitely one of the girls who got off the bus in Kensington that night.  I’m confused.  If she’s not his niece, then she’s either a friend or a date.  They aren’t giving off ‘friend’ vibes.  That can only mean one thing – he’s on a date with her!_  
  
For the first time in a long while, Donna Saint James felt a twinge of jealousy.  
  
Benedict’s face had turned beet red as he fumbled for the right name. Heather looked at him accusingly, and Donna was staring at him with a bemused look on her pretty face.  
  
 _Shit!  Donna’s really  enjoying this.  No.  Now, she looks miffed. She must have realized that Heather isn’t my niece.  Heather isn’t too happy with me right now, either. By now she must have realized that I have a more than platonic interest in Donna.   I wish I could just leave and lick my wounds in private.  I could use a cigarette and a whiskey right now._  
  
Heather sighed deeply as if the weight of the world were resting on her shoulders.  Then she rolled her eyes dramatically and leaned around Benedict to offer her hand to Donna.  She spoke as if Benedict weren’t there.  
  
“Well, Benedict’s certainly right about one thing.  He’s rubbish with names.  Ha ha ha!  My last name’s MacPherson.  Heather MacPherson.  Nice to meet you, Donna.”  
  
Heather turned her gaze on Benedict.  “We got to talking while on queue for the loo earlier.  While I was waiting for what felt like forever for you,” she added, voice dripping with sarcasm.  
  
 _Smart ass,_ thought Benedict. _Oh, Emily, you have a lot to answer for._  
  
He heard Donna quietly clear her throat and snicker beside him.  
  
 “A pleasure to meet you, Heather.” smiled Donna.  “And all this time I thought he only had trouble comprehending time.”  She looked directly at Benedict and smiled even wider.  
  
“Showing off your cheeky side tonight, Donna?” Benedict whispered into Donna’s ear gruffly.   “I might have to curtail your snogging privileges for such a wiseass remark.”  
  
Donna tossed her hair back and returned to reading her program as if Benedict hadn’t uttered a word.  There was a smile pulling at the edges of her lips.  
  
Heather leaned back in her seat with a self-satisfied smile and crossed her legs.  Unfortunately,  her foot knocked over the large cup of soda that she had placed on the floor between her and Benedict.   She watched in horror as the plastic cover came off, causing cold Coke and ice cubes to spill over onto Benedict’s left foot and was flowing merrily across the floor towards Donna.  
  
  
  
  
  
Donna sat engrossed in reading her program, when something cold and wet seeped under her feet at the same time that Benedict literally jumped in his seat with a slight yelp.  
  
“Bloody fucking hell!” he growled at Heather.    
  
“Son of a bitch?!  That’s cold!” Donna exclaimed as she looked down at her stocking  feet.  “Damn!  Where did this come from?”  
  
“Oh, crumpets!  I knocked over my soda!  I’m so sorry!” exclaimed Heather as quietly as she could.  “Please forgive me.  I’ll get someone to clean it up!” She began to get up.  
  
Benedict quickly held her arm down. “It’s okay, Heather.  It was an accident,” he said as soothingly as he could.  “Someone’s already notified an usher. He’ll bring a mop in a minute.”  
  
Benedict noticed that not only did he have the attention of most people in their stall, but also the ones in front of them.  Some of them had also been the unlucky recipients of Heather’s icy cold beverage.  Derren Brown sat texting, shoulders shaking with laughter.  Stephen Fry had lifted his feet and was looking to see the direction the soda was taking before putting them down.    
  
Donna was preoccupied with searching for something in her handbag. “Damn it...where is my...ah, here it is!” she said triumphantly as she extracted a tiny red flashlight and turned it on.  
  
I wonder if she has a pair of mens socks in there, wondered Benedict.  He grimaced as he felt the dampness seep into his left sock.     
  
Donna began to rummage around in her bag with the flashlight.  
  
“Did you get hit by the deluge, too?” She inquired sarcastically.  
  
“Good thing my legs were crossed, so only my left foot took the brunt of it.  Heather spilled her soda.  It was an accident.”  
  
“I realize it was an accident.  I just wish I hadn’t taken my shoes off,” lamented Donna.  _That’s what I get for taking my shoes off.  I need to stop doing that._  
  
“Here.  This will sop up the worst of it.”  Donna handed Benedict a few sheets of folded paper towel.  
  
“I was only joking when I told you to consider carrying paper towel yesterday,” he snorted.    
  
“And I actually thought it was a very good idea, so I folded up a few sheets when I got home.  Aren’t you glad that I did?”  
  
Benedict nodded as he bent down to unlace his wet shoe. “Very glad.”  He suddenly hesitated before taking if off.  
  
 _Wait until the lights go down, Benedict, or she’ll see and you’ll never hear the end of it.  She’s probably been waiting for something like this to happen again._  
  
“Is  your sock dry?”  
  
“Mmmm...maybe the left one’s a tad damp on my instep.”  
  
“Why don’t you take off your shoe, so it can dry during the concert.”  
  
“I will.”  
  
Donna paused as she finished wiping off her feet and shoes.  She noticed that Benedict hadn’t moved an inch.  He was obviously waiting for her to go back to reading her program.   She smiled to herself as the usher quickly mopped up whatever was left of the the remaining soda.  
  
 _He doesn’t want me to see his socks! Dare I hope? Oh, I need to see if my suspicions are right._  
  
Benedict noticed Donna craning her neck as she leaned forward to try and get a look at his foot.  
  
 _Oh fuck it!  She suspects._  
  
Benedict eased off his shoe, and Donna was rewarded with a glimpse of brown and orange striped socks with little owls wearing yellow raincoats and holding green umbrellas.  There were blue raindrops and white clouds scattered on the socks.  He heard a barely inaudible gasp.  
  
“You should have worn those Sunday, when we had rain,” Donna smirked.  She covered her mouth with her hand to keep from laughing out loud.  
  
“May I use your flashlight for a moment?”  
  
“Sure,” Donna handed him the flashlight and then immediately regretted it.  
  
 _Oh, crap!   He remembered my toes from the night at the Tate Modern!_  
  
Benedict bent over and shined the beam of light directly onto her toes.  He clapped his free hand over his mouth as he inspected Donna’s toe nails. They were painted gray.  Each toe had a tiny brown branch with two green leaves painted on them except for the large toes.   Each one was adorned with a fuschia owl sitting on a brown tree branch with two green leaves.  The little owls were wearing a most pleasant expression and had long eyelashes.  Benedict burst out laughing, straightened up and leaned over to whisper in her ear:  
  
“Hooooo  Hooooo.  A wise old owl told me you spend way too much time at the nail salon.”  
  
Donna poked him gently with her elbow.  “Hoooo  hooo, to you, too.  You’re such a wiseass, Benedict.”  
  
“I’m the wiseass?”  
  
“Okay.  I confess. I love your owl socks, and I look forward to seeing if you’re wearing them.  They’re so damn cute.  When I went to get my nails done, I saw the sample and just had to have owl nail art,” Donna began to giggle.  
  
Suddenly, the announcement that the concert was about to begin was made.    
  
Benedict and Donna finally were able to stifle their laughter.  Donna felt Benedict grope for her hand as the lights went down.  He gave her hand a slight squeeze once he located it.  He felt her return the squeeze.  She knew his intention was to hold hands during the concert, but it didn’t feel right to Donna.    
  
 _I’m James’ date tonight.  It would feel like cheating._  
  
Donna gently disengaged her hand and placed it on her lap.  Benedict looked a bit taken aback by her action, but appeared to quickly recover.  
  
 _She feels uncomfortable holding hands with Heather nearby. She definitely must think Heather’s my date.  I’ll have to remedy that after the concert._  
  
“Hope you enjoy the concert, Donna.  By the way, James Rhodes and I are old friends.  We went to Harrow together,” whispered Benedict.  “We had lost touch for awhile, but we’re back together as close as ever.”

Donna felt as if her stomach was going to bottom out at Benedict's words.

_Holy shit!  Benedict and James **do** know each other! _  

_And I'm dating both of them!_  
  
  
  
  
  
  
James Rhodes nervously paced back and forth across the stage waiting for the signal that the show was about to start.   He wore jeans, a jumper and trainers rather than a formal tuxedo to keep the atmosphere casual, which was his preference. James stepped close to the curtain and parted it slightly so he could look out at the audience without being seen.  
  
 _Pretty much a sellout from the looks of things!  Brilliant!  Now, I need to take a deep breath and calm down – like that’s going to happen anytime soon!  Too bad I can’t smoke in here. I could really use a fag._  
  
James’ eyes roved over the house seats, searching for his family and pals.  His family was sat in the best seats, of course.  His parents and sister were beaming with pride, which made his heart swell with happiness.  Robert, his best friend, was sitting next to his manager and his wife. Then James spied Derren Brown and his partner, Mark, in the row behind his family.  Stephen Fry and his partner, Daniel, were easy to pick out due to Stephen’s height.  James’ close friend and fellow musician, Hattie, was also in the audience sat beside Daniel.  Finally, he spotted a cute blonde girl with blue glasses seated in-between Derren and Benedict.  
  
Blimey! That’s not Emily.  I wonder who she is?  Could Ben have actually brought a date? OH!  Wait a minute, James, you’re slow on the uptake without nicotine.  That must be Ben’s pretty girl!  She must have cancelled her plans after all. She looks about the same age as Hattie.  Jolly good for him!  
  
Finally, James focused on Benedict and Donna Saint James.  They were whispering to each other and laughing like old friends.  The sight caused him to break out into a grin.  His nervousness was temporarily forgotten.  
  
 _I’m so fucking chuffed that Ben introduced himself to Donna.  They seem to be getting along quite well.  I knew they would hit it off.  I’m so glad I could just tear up!_  
  
James quickly removed his mobile from his jeans and sent off two brief texts, as his director called out to him from the wings:  
  
“James, it’s time!”  
  
James Rhodes nodded, put away the mobile and took his seat at the beautiful Steinway Grand Piano.  Everything was working out so well, he felt he would burst with joy.

  
  
  
  
  
  
Both Donna Saint James and Benedict Cumberbatch received a text message at the same time as announcements were being made to switch off all electronic devices and to remain silent:  
  
Donna smiled when she saw it was from James:  
  
 _Glad to see you and Ben have introduced yourselves.  He’s a splendid chap.  JR_  
  
Donna frowned and studied Benedict’s profile in the darkened theater, something else was bothering her when it hit her like a ton of bricks:  
  
 _Not only is Benedict  James’ friend from Harrow, but he's also Tim's son!_

  
Then another thought washed over Donna as the curtain went up and James began to play a selection from Chopin:  
  
 _Benedict’s dad is having an affair with Wanda Ventham!_  
  
Benedict cast a sideways glance at Donna and winked at her.  Then he checked his text message before powering off his mobile:  
  
 _Am so chuffed that you and my pretty girl are getting along!  Can’t wait to meet yours later on.  She’s quite lovely from what I can see - such blue eyes!  Jx_  
  
Benedict looked up at the stage.  It was obvious that his friend had been watching them from behind the red velvet and gold braided trimmed curtain.  Benedict suddenly felt a lump form in his throat as the realization set in.  He felt like he couldn’t swallow:  
  
 _For fuck’s sake!  Donna is James’ pretty girl! He said I would be sitting next to her._  
  
Benedict swallowed hard and shook his head, as he reached in his pocket for a chocolate mint.     
  
 _We’re dating the same woman. How cocked up is this?_  
  


 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Note#5 is a bit of a spoiler – be warned)
> 
> 1\. James Rhodes actually performed at the Ambassadors Theatre in 2011. For the purpose of this story, I’ve added a fictional concert there in June 2009.
> 
> 2\. I’ve never been inside the Ambassador Theatre, so my description is purely fictional.. I did research the layout on the internet. I have no idea if food is sold in the theater and allowed at the seats.
> 
> 3\. I have no idea what goes on or how many backstage helpers they have at piano concerts. 
> 
> 4\. Derren refers to James’ pal, Derren Brown. Mark refers to Derren Brown’s partner. Daniel refers to Daniel Cohen, who was Stephen Fry’s partner at the time this story is set. I know nothing of Derren Brown or Stephen Fry’s personalities except from what I’ve seen in online interviews or read. My portrayal of them is purely fictional. 
> 
> 5\. Hattie refers to the woman who eventually becomes James Rhodes’ his real-life fiancee, so I guess this is a spoiler. Well, this is a story about Benedict after all. The only thing I’ve read about her is that she’s a musician. 
> 
> 6\. ‘Razor Blades, Little Pills and Big Pianos’ is one of James’ excellent albums.
> 
> 7\. For the purposes of this story, Heather knocks her soda over to the right – in reality it would probably miss Donna completely and just flow into the row in front of them, but I needed it to reach her so we could have another sock gag. :-)
> 
> 8\. James has made mention of a “best pal” on twitter, but that’s all I know of him. Therefore, his name will be Robert, and his personality will be purely fictitious for our story.


	38. Chapter 38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all - Happy Mother's Day to all my fellow moms who are celebrating today!
> 
> Things get uncomfortable for many after James’ concert. Benedict and Donna have a steamy confrontation. Benedict attempts to deal with his jealousy. Wanda stumbles upon interesting information after answering a mobile, while Timothy hears a waffling confession on the roof. James’ gets the surprise of his life.

  
  
Benedict Cumberbatch slowly made his way out of the theatre to the lobby once the concert had ended.  The concert had been a great success, and James had received a standing ovation and request for an encore.  To Benedict’s complete dismay, James had opted to perform _Hall of the Mountain King_.  It wasn’t the composition itself that Benedict didn’t approve of but the way James bashfully dedicated it to: “a special, pretty lady in the audience – she knows who she is.”   Benedict eyes had immediately locked onto Donna, whose face had turned several shades of red.  She gave James an embarrassed smile and sat down without a word.  Benedict felt a pang of jealousy in his chest as he sat in his seat.   
  
_What a wanker!  Special, pretty lady in the audience – I could just vomit.  I can’t wait to see them together.  Actually, I can wait.  I don’t think I can handle it.  Perhaps I’ll just take Heather out for a burger and bring her back to the dorm, where I can then cheerfully throttle Emily._   
  
Donna quietly followed Benedict out of the row and proceeded him up the aisle towards the lobby.  Neither of them had uttered a word. Heather, on the other hand, was close on the feels of Derren Brown and his partner chattering about how much she enjoyed the concert.   
  
As the crowd thinned, Donna was able to step aside to allow Benedict to walk beside her.  He had been unable to keep his eyes off her snug black knit dress and the way it hugged her curves in all the right places, particularly her backside.  
  
“By the way, you look lovely tonight, Donna.”  
  
“Thank you.  I think you look very handsome.  Brown looks well on you. It enhances your hair color.”  
  
Benedict was caught off guard by her compliment and felt himself blush.  “Thanks.  So… erm… how are your feet?”  
  
Donna grimaced.  “Sticky.”  
  
“I would have thought you’d have an extra pair of stockings in your bag,” smirked Benedict.  
  
“I do.  I’m going to change them in the restroom.  How are your feet doing?”   
  
_Silly me for even voicing such a thing. She probably has extra knickers, too._  
  
“The soles of my shoes are sticking to everything. Aside from that, fine.”   
  
_Oh, Benedict. You just lied to her. Shame on you. What you should have said was:  One of my best friends just dedicated a song to a woman I just found out we are both dating.  How should I feel? I’m pissed off._  
  
They soon entered the lobby, which was filled with people.   Heather came to stand on one side of Benedict and Donna the other.   All three could feel the tension in the air.    
  
 _Alright, Benedict, act like an adult and make conversation. I really wish Heather would leave me alone with Donna for a few minutes, so I could explain that she’s not really my date, even though it appears that she is.  On the other hand, maybe it would be good for Miss Saint James to think Heather is a ‘real’ date – for a little while at least._  
  
“Did you enjoy the concert?”  
  
“Yes!  Very much!  He was wicked!” exclaimed Heather.  “I could listen to James play all night!”  
  
Donna nodded in agreement.  “He’s quite an accomplished musician.  I’ve never been a huge fan of classical music; but hearing James play has certainly won me over.”  
  
“I love how he dresses so casually and makes jokes in between songs,” added Heather.  
  
“That was very unexpected, but that’s what makes him so entertaining,” commented Donna.  “I love nothing more than being surprised!”  
  
 _I wonder if you’d praise my acting like that,_ thought Benedict, as a wave of jealousy washed over him.   
  
“Do you _really_ feel that way?” asked Benedict, raising an eyebrow at Donna.  
  
 _Oh, oh.  He’s referring to our finding out that I’m dating both of them._  
  
Donna looked Benedict in the eye and smiled wickedly.  “I absolutely _adore_ surprises of _all_ types, Mr. Cumberbatch.  That’s what makes life so very, very interesting.”  
  
 _What the fuck am I missing here?_ Thought Heather, as she looked from one to the other.  _Oh, she must be talking about when I spilled the soda.  That certainly qualifies as a surprise._  
  
“How did you like his encore dedication?” Heather asked them excitedly.    
  
 _I didn’t_ , thought Benedict.   
  
_I was absolutely touched_ , thought Donna happily.    
  
“I thought it was so adorable.....” continued Heather.  
  
“Not the word I would have used to describe it,” muttered Benedict under his breath.   
  
He noticed Donna had started to smile proudly.  _Nauseating is more like it.  Look how proud and flattered she is._   
  
Donna felt herself blush again.  “Well, I for one, was not expecting him to mention me.......”  
  
Heather babbled on as if Donna hadn't uttered a word. “.....The girl was sat right in front of you – the blonde with her hair in a messy bun,” Heather said to Donna.  “She looked like she was going to die, but how could you not just want to melt? That James is such a romantic!”  
  
Donna looked as if she had been struck. A frown wrinkled her brow.  
  
 _What the fuck?  I thought he was talking to me!  He was looking right at me when he said it._  
  
 _Ha ha ha!  Look at her face!  She thought he was talking to her. That’s hysterical!_   Thought Benedict.  _I feel like celebrating now!_   
  
“Surprise!” said Benedict just loud enough for Donna to hear. 

Donna glared at him.   
  
“Derren Brown told me her name is Hattie, and she’s a musician, too.  James has apparently been hanging out with her a lot,” Heather said in a low voice.  “I don’t know if it’s public knowledge or not, so don’t say anything.”   
  
Benedict’s face registered confusion, anger then amusement.  
  
 _Oh, he’s a right bastard!  All this time he’s moaning that he can’t find a nice girl, and he’s dating two right under my nose.  He can have Hattie, whoever she is.  I want Donna all to myself.  I’ve also just realized that I’m horribly jealous.  I should be ashamed.  He’s one of my best friends._  
  
Benedict watched with amusement as Donna tried to inconspicuously gaze about the nearly empty lobby.  
  
 _Ah, she’s looking to see if Hattie is here or backstage.  Looks like she’s backstage with James.  Seems Miss Saint James isn’t fond of being the ‘extra woman’.  Now, she’ll understand why I only date one person at a time.  It’s too stressful, especially where they turn up at the same event._  
  
Donna soon realized they were the only ones in the lobby, except for Stephen Fry and his partner, who were engaged in a conversation with a couple in their thirties.    
  
 _James is dating someone else besides me?  I don’t believe it!  He meant that encore for me!  He knew that song was special to me.  He was playing it the day we met._  
  
“So, now what?” asked Heather, folding her arms across her bosom.  “Aren’t we supposed to go out to dinner with James?”  
  
 _Damn!  They’re going to the dinner, too!  Well, of course they are.  Benedict and James are good friends,_ thought Donna miserably.  _I guess Hattie will be there, too.  I wonder if those two other men are going with their partners?  They all seem to be friends._   
  
“We’re going to wait for James to join us here.  Then we’ll catch a cab to the restaurant,” Benedict explained patiently as he consulted his mobile.  
  
“He told me to meet him backstage after the show,” began Donna in a small voice.  “I was just going to ask you how to get backstage...”  
  
“Well, seems like plans changed.  According to this text, there are too many people backstage,” said Benedict brusquely.   
  
“How long could that take?” asked Heather.  “It’s not like he has to get changed or anything.  He was wearing jeans and a jumper.”  
  
“He’s probably receiving family backstage....”  
  
Heather giggled.  “You make him sound like royalty, Benedict!  I love when you talk like an actor.”  
  
 _Well, possibly that’s because I AM an actor_.  Benedict bit down on his lip as he saw Donna turn her head, trying hard not to laugh. 

“His parents are here and will go backstage for a bit of private time along with his manager and anyone else he invited.”  
  
 _Hmmm…well he invited and un-invited me,_ though Donna peevishly, as she checked her cellphone to find a similar message from James to wait for him in the lobby.  _I’m also willing to bet it’s because Hattie’s back there with him._  
  
“Why didn’t he invite us then?” asked Heather.  “Aren’t you and James good friends, Benedict?”  
  
 _Christ!  Now, I understand why my parents call me Barrister Ben when I ask too many questions._  
  
Benedict summoned up all his patience, which wasn’t much.  He smiled indulgently at her.   
  
“You can’t invite _everyone_ , Heather.  Only very special people to you go backstage – there’s not a whole hell of a lot of room to entertain guests in this theatre.  You’re not there to make an evening out of it.  It’s just a quick visit to compliment the performer.  However, it’s a bit different if you’re in a large venue like the National Theatre or the Barbican Centre.  They have private areas for performers to entertain family and friends.  The National has a Green Room bar where you can have a drink and chat.”  
  
Donna was looking out the door as Benedict merrily waffled on about the different theaters in the West End that he had been in.  
  
 _Good gravy, he can talk anyone into the ground. He’s right though.  Not everyone can go backstage.  I could have told her that in one sentence._  
  
However, Donna's head whipped around as some of Benedict’s words hit home, causing her to frown.  
  
 _Wait a minute.  I was invited backstage.  Then I was un-invited.  I should be there! I’m James’ date for God’s sake!  Well, I guess I now know how I rate!  Benedict’s right though – it’s probably cramped back there....I shouldn't let it bother me, but it does.  That couldn’t be the reason. Oh, I know! I bet he’s not ready to introduce me to his parents yet.  That would make sense, but then why is Hattie there – if she’s there?  I’m just guessing that she’s there._  
  
Benedict’s long-winded explanation was starting to bore Heather.  She stifled a yawn and stretched.  “So, James should be here soon then?” Heather persisted.  “I’m really hungry.”  
  
“Not _quite_ as soon as you’re thinking......”  
  
“How would you know what _I’m_ thinking, Benedict?” Heather scoffed.  “All you’re doing is fucking talking! Come up for air, why don’t you?”  
  
“Is _expecting_ a better choice, Heather?” Benedict asked peevishly. “If you don’t want me to talk to you, then stop asking me so many fucking questions!”  
  
 _Gosh, this is fascinating!  After the show entertainment!_   Thought Donna gleefully. _I wish I could have heard what they were saying before the show._  
  
Benedict looked at Donna.  She was using her program to hide her mouth; but her hazel eyes were sparkling with merriment.  
  
 _She’s enjoying our bickering.  Christ!  I’ve no patience left!_   
  
Heather huffed.  “Bugger all.  You’re stropy tonight, Benedict. What happened to your posh public school boy manners?”  She snapped.   
  
Benedict simply glared at her.  Then his temper got the best of him.

“I am not posh!  I’m....”  
  
“A complete dolt,” finished Heather simply.   
  
Benedict continued to glare at her, but kept his mouth shut.  
   
 _Oh, oh...she hit a nerve,_ thought Donna.  
  
Donna’s text chime sounded.  She quickly opened her bag and removed her cellphone.  There was a message from James.  
  
“James just sent me a text.  He’s going out back to sign some autographs.  He said he won’t be too long,” she said before Benedict had a chance to respond.    
  
“In that case, I’m going out for a smoke,” said Heather.  “Join me, Benedict?”  
  
Benedict saw the inquisitive expression on Donna’s face upon hearing Heather’s invitation.  She appeared to be waiting anxiously for his response.  
  
 _I know she’s not a smoker.  I remember her saying she's allergic to tobacco smoke, so I’ve been extra careful when I’m going to be around her._   _James smokes like a chimney, so I don’t understand how she could be with him._   
  
Benedict shook his head. “No thank you, Heather. I don’t smoke.”  
  
 _At this time.  And one day I’m going to cock it up and either smoke in front of Donna or someone is going to tell her. I’ll deal with it if it comes up.  I haven’t had a cigarette since that morning I was with James at Laduree, so I really can say I don’t smoke.  I am going to have to start again for The Turning Point, so I guess she’ll find out then..._  
  
“Smoking area’s in the back of the theatre on the left.  There’s a sign,” Benedict blurted out.  “Off you go then. You may even find James there!” he laughed.  “I don’t think he can last half an hour without a fag.”  
  
Donna frowned as she carefully studied Benedict’s face.    
  
 _Well, Benedict certainly knew where the smoking area was. I bet he’s a reformed smoker.  Why else would she have asked him?  As long as he remains reformed it’s not a big deal to me.  I’ve never smelled or tasted it on him._   
  
Heather shrugged. “Be right back,” she said as she flounced out of the lobby.   
  
_Ah, alone at last!_ Benedict sighed happily and turned his attention to Donna, who suddenly wore a worried expression as if she had been cornered.  
  
 _Oh, no!  I’m alone with Barrister Ben.  He knows that I know, and I know that he knows.  This is not conducive to a pleasant conversation.  I wish James would get his ass here pronto._  
  
Donna pursed her lips and hefted her handbag over her shoulder. 

“Well, I’m just going to go downstairs and get a bottle of water.”  
  
“The bar’s closed.”   
  
_Damn.  He’s right.  Well, good thing I always have to pee._  
  
“You know what?  I think this would be a good time to use the bathroom,” said Donna as she turned to head for the stairs.  
  
“I’ll be waiting right here.   We have a lot to talk about when you’re done.”  
  
  
  
  
  
  
“I love it up here, Grandpa!  It’s like having your own little private paradise in the middle of London!” exclaimed Emily Peacock as she surveyed the garden Timothy had created on the roof of his mews house in Kensington.   
  
“I’m glad you approve,” said Timothy.  “You’re always welcome to come up here anytime.”  
  
“When did you add all the fairy lights? I love how bright it is now!"  
  
“Ben and I put them up last month.  It seemed silly that we couldn’t sit up here at night because there was only that one light by the door.  Now, we can entertain out here.”  
  
Timothy had begun his project by installing a short privacy fence around the perimeter of the roof.  There were various sizes of decorative containers holding flowering plants and three small trees that provided some shade.  Over the years, Timothy had added a covered-kettle style barbecue grill and glass topped dining set that had its own large umbrella for shade.  There were two lounge chairs with a small table in between them.  Emily walked over to inspect the new boxed in herb garden.    
  
“This is very impressive, Grandpa!  How many types of herbs do you have?”  
  
Timothy retrieved his clippers from the tiny potting shed he and Benedict had assembled from the garden center.  He scratched his head as he tried to recall how many he and Wanda had planted.   
  
“Don’t quote me, but I do believe we originally wanted twenty, but settled on ten due to the size of the box.”  
  
"Here, let me do it , Grandpa," Emily took the clippers and bent down to cut off some tarragon for Wanda to use in her sauce.  She placed the tender shoots in a bowl and straightened up.    
  
“Grandpa, can I tell you something?  A not-so-good something...”  
  
Timothy glanced sideways at Emily.  She looked worried as she pushed her straight blonde hair back behind her ears.    
  
“You can tell me anything, Emmy.  What’s the trouble?” he asked as he went over to sit on one of the lounge chairs.  “Step into my office and have a seat,” he said, indicating with his hand that she should sit in the chair beside him.  
  
“It’s something I did on an impulse.  Something I never should have done.  I just feel awful.”  
  
“I promise not to judge you.  Take a deep breath and tell me your troubles, Love.”  
  
Emily flopped down on the chair and folded her arms behind her head as she leaned back and looked up at the sky.   
  
“Now, I know why Uncle Ben loved it up here so much when he was a small.  Jen and I love the stories about how when Mum was still living here, she used to baby-sit him while you and Gran were working.  My favorite one will always be when Mum had her friends over, and they brought Uncle Ben up here in his pram so as not to bother them.  Then it started to snow, but they were so busy chatting that they forgot about him.  Mum said when they realized it was snowing, she was afraid Uncle Ben had froze to death up here, but lucky for her he just had a touch of frost nip.  She sat him on the radiator, trying to thaw him out before you and Gran got home.  I remember her saying he was happily sitting in his pram smiling at the snowflakes.”  
  
 _It must be a Ventham family trait that they always manage to drift from the subject at hand,_ thought Timothy with amusement.  
  
“Promise me you’re not going to waffle much longer, Emmy.  Wanda’s waiting for her tarragon, so I figure we have only a few minutes left before she sends out a search party,” Timothy said gently in a teasing tone.   
  
Emily sat up and began to laugh.  “My God!  I didn’t even realize I was doing it!”  
  
 _No.  None of you do._  
  
“So, what is this terrible thing that you did?”  
  
Emily took a deep breath.  “I set Heather up on a date with Uncle Ben.”  
  
 _Okay, not the brightest idea; but at least it’s not something truly awful._   
  
Timothy laughed with relief.  “Is that all?  That’s not exactly a surprise.  I know Heather fancies him, and you weren’t all that subtle about trying to match them up the night of your birthday party.”  
  
Emily hesitated.  “Uncle Ben didn’t know he was being set up.  It was a surprise.”  
  
“Oh.”  
  
 _It must have been quite a surprise then. Benedict must have loved that._  
  
“He called to ask me if I wanted to go with him to see Jimmy Rhodes in concert tonight.   At first I said yes, but then I got to thinking about it...”  
  
 _Christ on a crutch!  That’s where they all go wrong in this family.  They think too damn much._  
  
“I know how much Heather fancies Uncle Ben.  She talks about him all the time and is always asking me questions about him.”  
  
 _Ben’s first real fan girl._   
  
“I tried so hard to set them up at my birthday dinner.  I’m sure you noticed...”  
  
 _Everyone noticed.  I don’t think there was anyone who missed it, except for your father, who spent most of his time on the phone calling half of Europe._   
  
“Do you think Uncle Ben noticed, Grandpa?”  
  
Timothy nodded.

“Yes, Emily.  He noticed and wasn’t very happy about it at the time.”  
  
Emily hit her forehead with the palm of her hand.

“How dumb was that? Heather and I thought we were so smooth about it.”  
  
 _Very dumb. I would call it many things, but smooth wasn’t one of them. I was completely off my face and noticed it._   
  
“But he was so nice to her at dinner.  They seemed to hit it off so well.  They talked and laughed.”  
  
“You forget that your uncle happens to be a very good actor, Emmy.  He was also raised to be a gentleman at all times.  I’d venture to say that he was being tolerant of Heather because he didn’t want to hurt your feelings or be rude to her.”  
  
“Shit.”  
  
“Well put.”  
  
“There’s a bit more.  Something I’m not supposed to tell Gran.  I swore to Uncle Ben I wouldn’t say anything, but I can tell you, right?”  
  
 _The word secret has absolutely no meaning in this family.  I must be the only one who can keep one.  Must be another Ventham gene gone awry._  
  
“Go ahead.”  
  
“Uncle Ben is dating someone – I have no idea who she is....”  
  
 _Well, I do and you can rest assured that I won’t be telling you.  It has to be the girl he met at the restaurant._   
  
“He had asked her to the concert, but it seems she already had a date with someone else.  She believes in open dating...”  
  
“What’s open dating?”  
  
“It means going out with more than one person.  Like me.  I’m dating three different guys.”  
  
“Oh.  That sounds tricky to me.”  
  
“I told Uncle Ben that maybe he should give open dating a try.”  
  
 _Christ on a crutch.  He can’t manage his time as is, and now she wants him to try and manage dating more than one woman? I couldn’t even imagine that. The thought terrifies me._  
  
“Of course, he didn’t seem too keen on the idea; so I let it go.  Then when I got back to the dorm, I got to thinking...”  
  
 _There she goes with that thinking again....thus an idea was born – and a bad one._   
  
“...and thought if Uncle Ben gave open dating a try, he’d come to see what I was talking about and wind up liking it.  He’d have so many more options that way instead of sitting home pining away for this one girl.”  
  
“I don’t mean to play devil’s advocate here, Emmy; but should Ben wind up fancying Heather, would you still want him to see others then?”  
  
Emily blinked and shook her head.

“Of course not!”  
  
 _Let the other shoe drop, Timothy.  Give it a moment.  She’ll realize how cocked  up her plan is._  
  
“Oh. Shit. I really went and done it this time, Grandpa!”  
  
 _Sounds like a right mess._  
  
“When Heather came back to our room, I told her what happened and suggested that she go in my place.  Then she’d have him all to herself and maybe something would finally click between them.  She knows he’s seeing somebody, but we figured he might come around.  It didn’t hurt to give it a try.”  
  
“And she went along with this because she still fancies Benedict.”  
  
Emily nodded and smiled.  “Exactly!  I decided I’d tell Uncle Ben that I had gotten a lot of  maths homework suddenly, so I sent Heather in my place being she likes classical music and happens to be a fan of Jimmy’s.”  
  
 _She definitely takes after the Ventham side.  I doubt the Tabernacles have it in them to concoct such convoluted schemes.  Wanda’s sister is the same way. My wife would be so proud if she knew.  My head is whirling with all this information that I didn’t need to be privy to. For fuck’s sake, this kid can waffle with the best of them._  
  
“You haven’t mentioned this to Gran, have you, Emmy?”  
  
“Just that Heather was going on a date with someone she really fancies and things didn’t start out too well.”  
  
 _That’s enough to peak Wanda’s interest. Why do I put myself in these situations?  Because I care too much._  
  
“Care to fill me in?  Whatever you tell me will remain between us.”  
  
Emmy started to laugh.  “This is like going to confession, Grandpa.”  
  
“Just call me Father Timothy,” he laughed.    
  
“All I know is that Uncle Ben wasn’t happy to see her and was being a total prat to her.  She said it was like he was a different person.  I told her that he sulks; but gets over it quickly.  She wanted to leave, Grandpa!”  
  
 _Oh, I have no doubt that Benedict went into full stropy-mode when he realized he had been duped.  I know too well how he is when he gets in a mood.  Heather should have trusted her instincts and left.  However, I’m more concerned about Wanda...she’s going to want to know more.  And if she finds out Ben is Heather’s cheeky date, there will be no peace until she finds out every last detail. Then of course, she'll want to discuss it with Ben._... _though lecture is probably more accurate._   
  
Timothy got to his feet. 

“Emmy, I think we’d best be getting downstairs before Heather has a chance to ring you back.   The worst thing that can happen is that your Gran finds out that it’s Ben who Heather is out with....especially if she hears that all is not moonlight and roses.”  
  
 “I’m so sorry, Grandpa.  I didn't think this through. I never gave a thought to what Uncle Ben’s feelings would be.  I just wanted him to be happy.”  
  
 _And that’s the problem.  Everyone thinks they know how to make my son happy, and sadly, I now fall into that category._   
  
Timothy patted her back.  “I think you owe your uncle an apology at the very least, Emmy.  Deep down inside he’ll realize that you only had his best interest at heart.  Now, with that said: please let him find his own dates and let him decide if open dating is for him.  I also think you need not mention anymore about this date to your Gran.”  
  
As they went down the stairs, a thought came to Timothy Carlton.    
  
 _i wonder if Donna Saint James is at that concert?_    _If she's dating James, it would make sense that he would invite her._

Suddenly, Emmy tugged Timothy’s sleeve as they neared the kitchen.  They could hear Wanda’s voice talking to someone.  It was apparently Heather:  
  
“Oh, no!  I am shocked that Benedict would be nothing less than a complete gentleman at all times.   This is dreadful, my dear.  Tell me all about it,” said Wanda soothingly.   
  
“What are we going to do, Grandpa?”  
  
“You’re going to take your call, and I’m going to wash some herbs.”  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Heather MacPherson stood outside the Ambassadors theatre, cigarette in one hand and mobile phone in the other.  She had decided to quickly ring back Emily with a status report.  Unfortunately, she got more than she bargained for.

 

  
  
Wanda Ventham was at the stove in her kitchen in Kensington, stirring a mixture of butter and flour into a roux.  She was making the base for a sherry cream sauce for the roast chicken she had prepared.  Wanda checked her timer.  The roux was just the right colour.  
  
Suddenly, Emily’s mobile began to ring and vibrate on the kitchen table.  Her granddaughter had been on pins and needles since she had arrived.  Finally, after a bit of gentle probing, Emily had told Wanda and Timothy that her roommate, Heather, had finally gotten a date with someone she had fancied for a long time. From what tidbits Wanda was able to extract from Emily, the date hadn’t started off on the right foot.    
  
Oh, that must be Heather checking in with news of that arse she’s out with.  Poor thing.  She should have come here and had dinner with us instead.  
  
Wanda removed the pot from the heat and answered the mobile.   
  
“Hello? ”   
  
_“Emmy?”_  
  
“No, it’s her Gran.  Heather, is that you?”   
  
_“Yes, Mrs. Cumberbatch.  Is Emmy there?”_  
  
“Absolutely.  She came over to have dinner with us.  I’ve been mobile sitting while she’s up on the roof with her Granddad.   They’re picking some tarragon from my herb garden.  Apparently, she’s most anxious to hear how your date is going.”  
  
 _“You know about the date then?  Wow, I can’t believe Emmy told you.  She wasn’t going to at first, because she didn’t want to upset you.  It was just going to be a secret between us.”_  
  
 _Hmmm.  Upset me?  Now, what about Heather’s date could possibly upset me? There’s more to this date than Emmy’s willing to say.  Perhaps Heather will be more forthcoming._   
  
“Oh, yes.  She’s been going on about it since she arrived!  Tim and I are so caught up in it that we can’t wait to hear what’s going on.”  
  
Wanda could hear sniffling and then Heather began to cry outright.

_“Oh, Mrs. Cumberbatch, I just can’t believe he’s being such a dickhead – oh, excuse my mouth.  I mean I don’t feel right talking about him being he’s your son and all; but Benedict’s just being such an arse.   It’s like his has this evil twin side of him....”_  
  
Wanda Ventham almost dropped the mobile as she digested Heather’s words. _Bloody hell! She’s talking about my Benedict?  My son with the impeccable manners? What the fuck?_  
  
 _“At first we thought it would be fun to surprise him, but he was pretty stropy from that point on.  He barely spoke to me; and when he did, he wasn’t very pleasant.”_  
  
Wanda finally found her voice.

“Oh, no!  I am shocked that Benedict would be nothing less than a complete gentleman at all times.   This is dreadful, my dear.  Tell me all about it,” said Wanda soothingly.   
  
“I believe that call is for Emmy,” said Timothy from the kitchen entrance.  
   
Emily stood beside him, holding a bowl containing the tarragon.   She placed the bowl on the table and rushed towards Wanda to take back her mobile.    
  
“I’m going to be up on the roof.  Call me if you need me.”  
  
“Take all the time you need, Emmy,” said Timothy.  “Your grandmother and I have plenty to talk about.”  
  
 _Shit!_   Thought Wanda miserably.  _This is definitely not going to be a pleasant conversation._  
  
  
  
  
  
Donna Saint James stared at her reflection in the mirror of the ladies lounge. The last thing she wanted to do was leave the pleasant and quiet surroundings.   
  
_Okay. I know Benedict’s out there waiting for me. There’s no way he would have the patience to wait up there this long.  I’ve done everything I can think of:  I’ve peed, changed stockings, washed my hands, touched up my makeup and fixed my hair.  I can’t stay in here much longer,_ thought Donna, as she fiddled with her watch and bracelet.   
  
“Madame, I’m afraid it’s time for me to lock up,” said the attendant with a kindly smile.   
  
Donna nodded, left a tip and bid the woman a good evening.  As she left the lounge, there stood Benedict, leaning against the opposite wall, just as she had anticipated.  He had just opened a bottle of still water.  Donna walked over to stand in front of him.  Benedict took her by the elbow and steered her to a quiet corner of the now-empty bar area.  Donna perched on the arm of one of the comfortable chairs that were up against the wall and plopped her handbag on the seat.    
  
 _He wants to talk about James and me.  Shit.  This is one conversation I don’t want to have, but I didn’t do anything wrong.  I just can’t succumb to his charms every time we’re about to have a confrontation._  
  
“Did you think I would just go away and pretend nothing’s going on?”  
  
Donna shook her head.  “Of course not.”  
  
Benedict held out the bottle of water to her. 

“It’s room temperature and germ-free. I assure you my lips haven’t touched it.”  
  
“For God’s sake!  Stop teasing me!” Donna accepted the bottle from him. “I thought the bar was closed.”  She immediately drank down half of it without pausing.   
  
“It is, but I know the bartender.  He was at the Royal Court the same time I was doing _Rhinoceros_ and _the Arsonists_ there.  I told him how thirsty you get, and he took pity on me. Sorry, he had no cold ones left.  Room temp is better for the voice anyway.”  
  
“Yeah, you’re right about that. Thank you, I was so thirsty I didn’t care if it were boiling water,” she chuckled and handed the bottle back to him.    
  
Benedict drank the remaining water and put the bottle in the used plastics bin. He rubbed the back of his neck and looked around the bar, making sure they were alone.   
  
“Well, this is _quite_ awkward.  I don’t really know what to say,” he began hesitantly.  
  
 _Oh come now, Benedict!  If there’s one thing I’ve learned about you, it’s that you will come up with plenty to say no matter what the circumstance._  
  
“I’m not going to lie and say I’m happy that you’re dating both James and me,”  Benedict said, rubbing his hands together.    
  
“How long have you known?” Donna crossed her legs and adjusted the hem of her dress, which threatened to creep up her thighs.   
  
Benedict paused to study her shapely legs and then glanced at his watch.   
  
“I’ve known about an hour and a half.  I realized it as the curtain was going down.  Earlier in the week,  James told me I’d be sat next to the woman he had been dating.  He was so fucking excited that we meet, and I was so fucking excited for him. I hadn’t seen him that happy in a long time, and I was over the moon for him. I had no inkling it was you until that awful moment when everything came together.”  
  
“When did he tell you he was seeing someone?”  
  
Benedict ran his hand through his auburn hair while he thought.

“It was a couple of weeks before we even met.  Christ!  I remember him telling me how he met you in the Steinway Store.  I was so chuffed for him.  Now.....”  
  
Donna stood up and moved close to him.  She took his hand, but Benedict pulled it away as if he had been burned.  
  
“...I don’t know how I feel.”  
  
“I really don’t know what to say, Benedict.  I’m as confused as you seem to be. You are both such sweet guys.”  
  
Benedict narrowed his eyes at her.  “Well, Donna, you wouldn’t be confused if you were only dating one of us, would you now?  I’m not confused in the slightest....”  
  
Donna raised her had to silence him. “You just said you don’t know how you feel.  Isn’t that the same as being confused?  I know it must be hard being you two are friends.....”  
  
Benedict licked his lips.  Then he pulled himself up to his full height as he began to rub his thigh furiously.  He seemed to be trying to decide how to respond to her.  
  
“Right now what I’m feeling is over whelming, completely selfish, motherfucking jealousy,” he hissed as he leaned in close to Donna.  “I want to be the _only_ man you date.  I don’t want you to date anyone else – especially not one of my closest friends!” he cried in exasperation.   
  
Donna put her head down.  She was at a loss for words.  Benedict had moved closer to her – so close she could hear his ragged breathing and feel his warm breath on her face.  Finally, she found her tongue:  
  
“But I have a right to date more than one person at the same time, Benedict – just as James does and you do!  I’m sorry if it makes you uncomfortable....or unhappy.....or ...causes you such strife.”   
  
Donna was determined to hold back the tears that had threatened to form. A part of her wanted to tell Benedict to go to hell, yet another part wanted to end things with James before they had even begun.  Could it be she was starting to fall in love with the man before her?  Then Donna thought of James’ boyish dimpled smile and how much she enjoyed his company. She felt torn, guilty and sad all at the same time.  Donna was starting to wonder if Benedict was right when it came to open dating.   
  
“I’m very fond of James, yet I always find myself drawn to you,” she said in a hoarse whisper.  “I feel closer to you, Benedict.  I suppose it’s because I know you better and have spent a lot more time with you.  Yet, I feel I want to give James a chance, too.  Is that so wrong?”  
  
“I have such strong feelings for you, Donna.  Feelings that are intensifying with each and every day,” Benedict said quietly. “I want to be the _only_ man in your life – I long to hear you say those words to me....that I’m the only one.”  
  
With that, Benedict took Donna roughly by the arms and pulled her against him for a deep, searing kiss that made her dizzy.  It was unlike any kiss they had shared so far in their relationship.  His soft, plump lips were hot and a bit moist.  He deftly parted hers to gain access to her mouth. Donna relaxed into the kiss and allowed him entry.  He sucked on her tongue and nipped at her lower lip.  Then he broke the kiss to lavish hot, moist kisses along the exposed area of her jaw and neck. The raw pleasure she felt caused her to try and move her hips against him, but she could barely move.  
  
“Stop, Benedict...please...it’s not right.  I’m here as James’ date tonight....and what about your date? This isn’t fair to her,” Donna said softly as Benedict ran his hands through her hair.    
  
He leaned in again and kissed her hard.  “Are you jealous of Heather?”  
  
“Yes,” Donna whispered.    
  
He paused and looked into her eyes.  Her pupils were dilated. Donna noted that he was smiling at her in an almost evil way.    
  
“Good,” he murmured.  
  
Benedict gave her another hard kiss as he pressed his body as close to her as he dare.  She returned the kiss with equal passion and touched his scalp just the way he liked it. The heat radiated off of him, and she heard a low, almost guttural sound deep in his throat.  Donna could also feel the start of what felt like an erection against her stomach. There was something almost primitive about it, as he returned his attention to her lips.  
  
“Surprised?” he asked in a low, seductive voice that rumbled right through her.   
  
“Yes...yes...and I hope _you_ like surprises, too, Mr. Cumberbatch,” she whispered into his ear, lightly flicking his earlobe with her tongue.   Donna managed to reach around and squeezed his bottom for all she was worth.    
  
Benedict moaned and stiffened.  He pulled back and looked at her with a half-smile, when he suddenly released her and climbed the stairs to the lobby, leaving Donna standing alone - panting and wanting so much more.   
  
  
  
  
  
Benedict paused near the top of the stairs to catch his breath and collect himself.  From his vantage point he could see that James had arrived.  He was standing in the lobby, talking animatedly with Stephen Fry and his partner.  Hattie stood by James’ side, laughing at something he had said.  Derren Brown and his partner were in a group that consisted of  James’ manager, his wife, Heather and James’ best friend, Robert.  Benedict noted that Heather’s eyes looked red as if she had been crying.  He felt a pang of guilt.   
  
_I need to stop acting like a complete tit and treat Heather the way she deserves to be treated.  I’ve been such a fucking misery tonight, it’s a miracle she hasn’t taken a cab back to the dorm.  Lord knows what she’s told Emmy, and I know she’s had ample time to ring her up._   
  
Benedict could overhear James talking about everyone taking cabs to the restaurant.  Heather didn’t even look around for him.  Apparently, she was more interested in trying to wedge herself in the same cab as Derren Brown and Stephen Fry.  He heard James say something about waiting for him and his date and that he’d meet them at the restaurant.  
Everyone filed out to the street fairly quickly to hail cabs.

Finally, the lobby was empty, except for James, who stood with his hands in his pockets waiting patiently.  
  
 _Poor sod hasn’t a clue_ , thought Benedict.  _I can play it two ways.  I can just tell him the truth and let nature take its course or I can let him think that Heather’s my pretty girl – as he would put it.   If I keep my mouth shut, it’ll be up to Donna to tell him. I wonder if she would? What’s the right thing to do?_  
  
Benedict finished climbing up the stairs and sauntered over to James Rhodes.  He did not hear Donna quickly mounting the stairs behind him.   
  
“Extraordinary performance, Jimmy,” said Benedict, giving his friend a brief hug and patting his back.  
  
James smiled at him.

“Thanks, Ben.  I’ve been waiting for a loo call,” he teased.  “Are we all settled then? Ready for dim sum?”  
  
Benedict didn’t say a word.

_Which way is kinder?  Bloody hell, we’ve been friends all these years – that accounts for something, doesn’t it?  Don’t I owe him the truth? I don’t want to hurt him though....”_  
  
“I guess Donna’s still down in the loo then?” James asked as he checked the time on his watch.  “One of the great mysteries of life – why women take so long in the fucking loo,” he mused.   
  
Benedict said nothing. James could sense that something wasn't quite right with his friend.  
  
 _Hmmm...Ben seems to be in a mood tonight.  I wonder what’s wrong?_  
  
James rubbed his hands together.

“So, how about introducing me to your pretty girl while we wait for Donna?”   
  
Benedict looked James up and down like a predator stalking its prey.  James could tell by his friend’s demeanor that something was definitely bothering him.  Benedict pursed his lips and sighed.   
  
“There’s no need.  You already know her.”  
  
James was completely taken aback by Benedict’s words.  He certainly would have remembered meeting the cute blonde girl with the blue glasses that he had seen in the audience.   
  
“Oh, I beg to differ, mate.  I’d remember meeting her," James chuckled.  "Now, how about telling me what’s on your mind.  You seem rather out of sorts.”  
  
  
  
  
  
As Donna Saint James reached the top of the stairs, she saw Benedict and James standing in the middle of the lobby, staring at each other.  The tension in the air was so thick she was immediately aware that something was about to happen.  
   
James looked thoroughly perplexed, as she heard him say to Benedict:  
  
“Now, how about telling me what’s on your mind.  You seem rather out of sorts.”  
  
“I’m just peachy,” responded Benedict in a disgusted tone.    
  
James shrugged. “Alright then. Don't tell me. I can take a hint that it's time to change the topic."  He smiled at Benedict. "So. How did you and Donna get along?  What did you think of her? Isn’t she wonderful?” James asked excitedly.   
  
Benedict didn’t respond. He kept staring at his friend, as if trying to come to a decision as to how to best answer James’ questions.  Suddenly, he began to laugh.  It was a bitter laugh.  He finally strode over and clapped James on the back.  
  
“Remember the conversation we had about the dumb fuck who is dating the woman I’m seeing?”  
  
Donna felt the bile rising in her throat.  She feared the worst was about to happen.    
  
 _Holy cow!  He’s going to tell James._   
  
Donna hurried across the lobby towards them.  It was like watching a train on a collision course in slow motion, yet she had no idea what she would say once she reached them.  
  
James nodded and laughed.

“I sure do.  Why? Did you manage to find out who the dumb fuck is?”  
  
“Yep,” replied Benedict popping the ‘p’.  “It turns out the dumb fuck is you.”  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Not sure if restroom attendants are the norm in London theatres and whether they accept tips. They do in NYC. I don’t recall any at the National or the Noel Coward; but I think there may have been at the Globe. 
> 
> 2\. I read the story of Tracy leaving Benedict out in the snow when he was a baby in an interview. 
> 
> 3\. The intervals between chapter postings may get longer as I struggle to maintain continuity as the plot begins to unravel. :-)


	39. Chapter 39

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let the competition begin! James finds out he’s not Donna’s only suitor. Wanda and Timothy find out what they need to know. Donna regrets guiding James and Benedict down memory lane during an uncomfortable cab ride. Dinner at the Grand Imperial has a rocky start.

  
  
James Rhodes looked deep into his friend’s almond-shaped, ice blue eyes, not quite sure he had correctly registered what Benedict had just said.  He blinked twice, opened his mouth and closed it again.  
  
“Heather is not my pretty girl, Jimmy.  Donna is,” Benedict said.  
  
James was absolutely astonished at what Benedict had just proclaimed.  Benedict stood beside his friend, hands shoved in his pockets and rocked back on his heels.   He appeared to be waiting patiently for it all to sink in, but deep down inside Benedict was anything but.  
  
James stroked his beard as he studied Benedict.  _Blimey!  I’m the dumb fuck!_   
  
Both men stood perfectly still while waiting for the other to break the silence.  Finally, James took a deep breath, licked his lips and frowned at Benedict.  
  
“Let me get this straight.  You and I are dating the same girl, yes?”  
  
Benedict nodded.  “It appears we are.”  
  
“Her name is Donna. Donna Saint James?  About 162 centimeters tall,  petite,  chestnut hair, hazel eyes, heart-melting smile?”  
  
“Yep.”  
  
“Would you _please_ stop popping the motherfucking ‘p’?  It’s annoying, Ben,” snarled James.  
  
“As you like, Jimmy.”  
  
James began to pace back and forth in front of Benedict.  
  
“She’s a food critic?  Hails from New York City?  Lives in Riverside Terrace near Millenium Bridge on the Saint Paul’s side?”  
  
“One and the same, I’m afraid.”  
  
James stopped his pacing and threw up his arms.  
  
“How long has this been going on?”  
  
Benedict chuckled.  “This is what I love about you.  You’re always in a musical frame of mind. Isn’t that the title of a Gershwin song?”  
  
“Yes, it is.  Now, _please_ stop waffling and answer my fucking question, Cumberbatch,” James snapped.   
  
Benedict puckered his lips and rubbed the back of his neck. He was glad that everything was out in the open, but now the worst part was still ahead of them.  Part of him felt bad that James was obviously not taking the news well; but then again, neither was he.  Someone was going to wind up getting hurt in the end.  
  
“Well, let’s see.  You apparently met Donna first at the Steinway Store, but didn’t ask her out right away.  Remember? You were mustering your courage to make a move.  Then a couple of weeks after we stopped at Laduree to buy macarons for my parents, I met her quite by accident.  We hit it off and have been dating ever since.  It didn’t dawn on me until we were waiting for the concert to start.  You had me sat beside your pretty girl, and Donna was the one sitting next to me.”  
  
“This is so fucking cocked up, I can’t believe it! You and I fancying the same woman!”  
  
“Either can I. What are the odds of this happening to us? We don’t even have the same taste in women,” said Benedict as he ran his hand through his hair.  “Until now,” he added bitterly.   
  
 “If this weren’t happening to us it would be funny as shit – but it is!  This is like a bad romantic comedy!” exclaimed James, shaking his head in disbelief.    
  
James had been completely blindsided by the revelation and needed time to process the information just given to him.  He removed a handkerchief from his pocket, took off his glasses and slowly cleaned them.   
  
  
  
  
  
Donna Saint James stopped short of the two men she was dating as Benedict uttered the words she had been dreading to his friend, James Rhodes:  
  
“It turns out the dumb fuck is you.”  
  
Donna stood and watched the conversation unfold before her. She was feeling more and more nervous as their words became heated.  Neither man had noticed that she was near enough to hear them.    
  
 _Oh my god! Look at James’ face.  He’s completely floored.  I hope they don’t fight!_  
  
Donna waited patiently until James finally put his glasses back on.  
  
 _It’s time for me to make my presence known or they’ll think I’m eavesdropping, which I am._   
  
Donna quickly walked over towards James, who smiled widely at her.  
  
 _Should I hug him?  Kiss him? This is very uncomfortable.  I was just kissing Benedict downstairs in the bar. I feel awful about that  -  I should have resisted Benedict’s advances, but instead I was all over him like we were two kids making out in a back alley._   
  
James made the decision easy for her as he quickly bridged the gap between them and opened his arms to her.  
  
“You look radiant, Donna!” he said as he hugged her tightly. “Thank you for being so patient.”  
  
James pulled back and kissed her on the lips, as Benedict looked on with what Donna thought was mildly veiled disgust. James finally broke the kiss and brushed back a lock of her hair.   Donna noted that he held the kiss much longer than he normally would have.  He tasted of mint and tobacco. She also caught a whiff of cigarette smoke emanating from his clothing and hair.  Her eyes began to water.  
  
 _Apparently he’s showing off for Benedict.  Good thing he wasn’t down in the bar earlier. Now, that was a show.  Shit, my eyes are watering from the smoke residue._   
  
“Oh, Donna!  I’m so sorry about the smoke.  I thought I had had enough time to properly air out,” apologized James sheepishly as he frantically searched his pockets for his handkerchief.  
  
“Here, this hasn’t been used,” offered Benedict as he quickly handed Donna his clean handkerchief.  “It must be awful having a tobacco smoke allergy. There’s nothing worse than the smell of stale smoke on someone.  I, for one, cannot tolerate it.”  
  
James nearly gave himself whiplash from turning his head so quickly to glare at Benedict in disbelief.  Benedict stood beside Donna, quietly making sympathetic comments to her about smoke.    
  
 _Oh, for fuck’s sake!  Ladies and Gentlemen:  Benedict Cumberbatch is playing the role of the saintly reformed smoker tonight.  You fucking wanker! You love nothing more than a cigarette or Cuban cigar, and you always reek of stale smoke!  Donna should only know,_ thought James angrily.  _I should call him out on it; but it’ll only serve to make me look like the petty one.  She’ll find out soon enough, when he has to start smoking again for that play he’s going to be in._  
  
“Thank you, Benedict,” said Donna as she carefully blotted her eyes.  “And thank whoever invented waterproof eye makeup!”  She neatly folded the handkerchief and returned it to Benedict’s jacket pocket.  
  
James flashed Benedict a knowing look.  Benedict smiled innocently at him and rubbed the back of his neck.  Donna focused her attention on James.   
  
“You were just wonderful, James,” said Donna.  “I had such a great time.  Thank you for the dedication,” she added with a sideways glance at Benedict, who now wore a smug expression on his face.  “It was an unexpected surprise.”  
  
 _Oh, I can’t wait for him to tell her it wasn’t for her.  Ha ha ha!_ Benedict was starting to enjoy himself.   
  
“It was my pleasure, Donna.  I meant every word,” gushed James as he looked over her head at Benedict pointedly. “I’m so glad you enjoyed it.”  He winked at Benedict.  
  
Donna tossed her hair back and looked at Benedict with an I-told-you-so smirk. Benedict’s face dropped, and he clenched his jaw.   
  
“You are just too sweet, James,”  said Donna, as she gently patted his bearded cheek.  
  
“Not as sweet as you are, Love.” 

James blushed.  Then he slyly looked sideways at Benedict and ever-so-slightly dipped his head at him, as if to say:  " _Top that!"_  
  
 _Oh, fuck me! I really may have to vomit this time,_ thought Benedict.  _Heather was wrong, and Donna’s enjoying every minute of this.  The more I hear, the less I find I’m not a fan of surprises._   
  
Benedict watched with growing interest as James was attempting to lean closer to Donna and trying to sniff her without being caught.  
  
 _What the fuck is he doing? Oh!  He must have smelt my cologne mingled with hers!  Wait until he realizes I was also kissing her only a few minutes ago._  
  
James caught another whiff of Donna’s perfume and frowned to himself.   
  
_There’s something a bit off with her perfume tonight.  I don’t recall it being that heavy on the citrus or spice.  It’s almost like she’s combined it with another fragrance...it smells a bit masculine. Wait a minute….No.  I must be imagining it._  
  
Suddenly, James stared at Benedict, who was pretending to study the posters that lined the lobby wall.  It had become apparent what had happened to the pianist.   
   
 _Jesus fucking Christ!  She smells just like Attimo – that’s Ben’s cologne. She smells like him!  And do I detect traces of her lipstick on his lips?_  
  
James’ dark brown eyes roved from Donna’s lips to Benedict’s.  There were in fact traces of her red lipstick on his mouth.  He watched as Benedict nonchalantly pulled the handkerchief from his pocket and made a show of wiping the lipstick from his cupid’s bow lips.  Donna’s face had gone scarlet, and she shrugged when James’ eyes came to rest upon her.   
  
_Shit!  James figured out we were kissing!  He saw my lipstick on Benedict’s lips and smelled his cologne on me._  
  
Donna wrung her hands and looked at James guiltily.   
  
“We were down in the bar talking, and all of a sudden it just happened!” Donna blurted out to Benedict’s glee.  “It was just one of those things....we were talking about....stuff.....and then...all of a sudden....we weren’t...”  
  
The corner of Benedict’s mouth began to turn up in a smug smile.   
  
“Well, fuck me!  This is like having a three-some without getting off!” spat James in disgust.  He quickly removed his handkerchief and blotted his own lips as Benedict looked on in amusement.  “You right bastard,” he muttered.   
  
Benedict rolled his eyes.  “I’m none too pleased either.  To think we’ve both been kissing the same...”  
  
James put up his hands.  “I get the picture and _really_ don’t need any more visuals.”  
  
Donna sighed and spread her hands in surrender.  “I don’t know what to say, James.  I feel awful that this happened. It’s not like we planned it....”  
  
 _I feel awful that this happened, too!_ , thought James.  _I’m standing here in the lobby totally oblivious,  while Cumberbatch is busy snogging my date in the stalls bar._  
  
Donna looked to Benedict for support and noticed that he quickly averted his eyes.   _Well, well.  He’s certainly not going to be any help here.  Why do I keep talking?  I need to shut up.  It’s like I’m rubbing it in and making it worse for James._  
  
 _And they say I don’t have a mouth filter?  Keep talking, Donna.  What you are saying is perfect!_ laughed Benedict to himself.   
  
In spite of herself, Donna continued to merrily waffle on in an attempt to soothe James' bruised ego.

“It really did start off innocently, James.  Benedict and I had no idea the other one would be here.  Then I realized Benedict was Tim’s son, which made him your school chum.  Benedict thought he’d be sitting beside your date, which was me.  He had no idea you and I were dating until that moment.  Then after the show we went downstairs and wound up in the bar to talk things out.  One thing led to another and before we both knew it, we were kissing. Isn’t that right, Benedict?”  
  
Donna turned to find Benedict busy comparing the time on his watch against the clock in the lobby.  
  
 _Oh, no you don’t, Mr. Cumberbatch.  You’re not going to just stand there and pretend you weren’t a part of this._  
  
“Benedict?” Donna raised her voice.  
  
Benedict looked at her with raised eyebrows.    
  
“It would be nice to hear from you,” chastised Donna.  “I don’t think I should be the only one to do all the talking here when you were right there with me...”  
  
“Actually, I thought that since you were doing such a fine and splendid job of explaining the situation, there was no need for me to chime in.”  
  
Donna fixed Benedict with a withering glare.  
  
Benedict cleared his throat and shrugged.  
  
“Erm...yes.  It’s all true, Jimmy, except that I’m guilty of making the first move.”  
  
James didn’t acknowledge Benedict’s comment.  Instead he turned to Donna.  
  
“It’s no one’s fault, Donna,” said James as he patted her back.  “How were we to know that we’d be attracted to the same woman?  It happened, and we have to find a way to sort it out between all of us.”  
  
“I’ve never been in a situation like this...” began Donna.  
  
“If you didn’t believe in open dating, this wouldn’t have happened in the first place,” Benedict said petulantly to Donna.    
  
 _I don’t want to jeopardize my friendship with James because of this,_ Benedict thought as he looked at James over Donna's head.   
  
_He’s really over the moon for her,_ thought James sadly, _but I think I might be, too.  This is like a nightmare. I really don’t want to ruin our friendship over this._   
  
“Excuse me.  We’re going to close up now, Jimmy,” said the Stage Manager.  “Brilliant show.  Hope to see you back again.”  
  
“Oh, yeah.  Thank you for the use of your lovely venue,” said James, shaking the man’s hand.  “Everything was perfect.”  He looked to Benedict and Donna. “Shall we?”  
  
“I’ll hail a cab,” volunteered Benedict as he strode out the door, looking rather chuffed with himself.    
  
“Finally!  We have thirty seconds of quality time.  Shall we make the most of it then?” laughed James as he pulled Donna close to him and gave her a gentle kiss.    
  
James had murmured something else into Donna’s ear, but she didn’t hear it.  She was too busy blotting her eyes and focusing on the deep bellow of Benedict calling out, “Taxi!!”   
  
  
  
  
  
  
“I suppose I’m in trouble again,” began Wanda Ventham as she removed the chicken from the roasting pan onto a white china serving platter.  She covered it with tin foil to keep warm while she resumed making the tarragon sherry cream sauce.    
  
“Actually, you’re not – for once,” said Timothy as he brought the bowl of tarragon to the sink and began to rinse it off for her.  “The only thing your guilty of is trying to obtain additional information.”  
  
“I just wanted to do a bit more probing.”  
  
Timothy held up a hand.  “Ah, but you don’t have to, Pet.  Do you forget that Emmy has the ever-curious Ventham blood running through her veins?  She’ll get the whole story from Heather and being she also has the Ventham can’t-keep-a-secret blood running through her veins, she’ll tell us during dinner.”    
  
Wanda scoffed as she handed him a tea towel to dry the tarragon.  “Bugger off.”  
  
“You’re welcome.  What else can I do to help?”  
  
Wanda handed Timothy a knife and a small cutting board.  “Mince the tarragon, please.  I hope you’re right about Emmy.”  
  
“By mincing, I take it you mean you want little bits of tarragon.  You forget I don’t watch Gordon Ramsey. Now, in case you haven’t noticed,  Emmy is just like Ben.  She’ll be telling us everything before she’s taken her first bite.”  
  
“Well, you’ve certainly changed your tune,” said Wanda as she put the pot containing the roux back on the stove.  She fired up the burner.  “Normally, you’d tell me that we need to let things take their own course.”  
  
Timothy blotted the excess water from the herbs.  “And normally I would, but I think we need to know if Donna Saint James was invited to the concert, or did you forget James Rhodes’ coffee date with her?  I, for one, would want to know; as it can have an affect on Saturday’s plan.”  
  
“I never considered that.  If Donna’s there and they meet at the concert tonight, there’s no need for her to go to Parliament Hill Market...unless they hit it off and she wants to be under his nose,” smiled Wanda as she stirred the roux. "Which is never a bad idea."  
  
“And if they don’t, well then it’s over before it began,” lamented Timothy. “What else can I do?”  
  
“If you wouldn’t mind fetching the salt and pepper grinder, that would be grand,” replied Wanda, as she slowly added the heavy cream and reserved pan juices to the roux.  “You know, I still can’t believe Benedict would behave like that! It’s so unlike him.”  
  
Timothy retrieved the salt and pepper per his wife’s instructions.  “Not when his buttons have been pushed, and from what I gather, it didn’t take much tonight.”  
  
“How about letting me in on it.  All I know is that somehow Heather went to James’ concert with our son and isn’t happy with his behavior. She also mentioned something about a surprise. Did Benedict actually ask her to go with him?”   
  
“No.  Ben invited Emmy to the concert.  After she said yes, it dawned on her that she could send Heather in her place – without telling Ben.  That was the surprise. It went downhill from there.  Now, you know as much as I do.”  
  
 _Actually, that’s all you need to know for now._  
  
“Hell’s Bells!” exclaimed Wanda as she stirred the tarragon into the sauce.  “No wonder he’s angry.  I don’t blame him.  Emmy never should have done that.”  
  
 _Once again, the pot calls the kettle black!_ thought Timothy with amusement.  _Wanda’s probably annoyed with herself for not having come up with a similar plan._  
  
“You’re right, Gran.  I shouldn’t have,” said Emily as she entered the kitchen.  She began to lay the kitchen table.  “Heather was heading out to the dinner.  She said the concert was brilliant.  She's going to share a cab with Stephen Fry and Derren Brown.  She's so excited about it that's all she can talk about. Uncle Ben promised to get her autographs later on.”  
  
“What’s become of your uncle?” asked Wanda with raised eyebrows.  
  
“Heather said he was too busy talking with his friends.  She did say that James is such a romantic - he dedicated his encore to his girlfriend, Hattie.”  
  
Timothy and Wanda exchanged looks.    
  
“Hattie?” Timothy repeated. 

“I didn’t know James had a girlfriend," chimed in Wanda.  
  
“Well, according to Heather he does,” said Emily as she folded the serviettes and placed the stainless steel flatware on the table.  “Heather said she’s adorable.”  
  
“Did she mention anyone named Donna?” Wanda inquired casually as she filled the gravy boat.   
  
“Not that I recall.  Just Hattie.  Oh, I almost forgot!  I have a bottle of wine that I left in the lounge.  I got white to go with the chicken.  Be right back.”  
  
Wanda and Timothy smiled at each other with relief.  
  
“She’s not there – thank God!” sighed Timothy.  
  
“I’ll second that,” added Wanda.  “Now, we can go ahead with the Parliament Market meet up with our minds at ease.”   
  
  
  
  
  
Donna Saint James found herself sandwiched in between Benedict Cumberbatch and James Rhodes in the back of a cab headed for the Grand Imperial Restaurant in Victoria.  There was quite a bit of traffic, so the ride seemed to be taking forever.  The atmosphere in the cab was very tense, as no one had uttered a word since Benedict had given the driver their destination.  James was staring out his window at the passing scenery, chewing on a stick of spearmint-scented gum.  Benedict was leaning against his door, index finger resting on his upper lip while his other hand absently rubbed his thigh.  Both men were obviously enveloped in their own thoughts.  
  
 _I wish one of them would say something. This is awful. I feel like Yoko Ono.  Maybe I’ll try and make conversation to lighten the mood and get their minds off of this mess._  
  
“So, you two met at Harrow?” Donna began pleasantly, looking from one to the other.  
  
Silence.  
  
 _Jeez Louise.  Don’t all answer at once.  I know they must have heard me.  I’m not that dainty and soft-spoken. Let’s try it again._  
  
Donna raised her voice a tiny bit. “Exactly how did you two meet?  Were you roommates?”  
  
Silence.  
  
 _Enough brooding, gentlemen. This isn’t an episode of ‘Angel’._  
  
“Hello?  Am I the only one in this cab?” Donna asked loudly.   
  
The cabby rolled his eyes at Donna in the rear view mirror and shrugged.    
  
 _He must think they’re both ill-mannered jerks. He may be right...._  
  
Benedict stopped looking out the window and turned his attention to Donna.  
  
“Please forgive my bad manners, Donna.  I was preoccupied with my own selfish thoughts.  What did you say?”  He took her hand and rubbed the back of it with his thumb.  
  
Donna and Benedict heard James snort loudly in his corner as he tried in vain to stifle a laugh.  
  
 _He’s not preoccupied – the motherfucker was sulking is all,_ thought James as he rubbed his beard.  
  
 _Cheeky bastard,_ thought Benedict. _I bet Donna hasn’t seen that side of him yet. Unfortunately, she has seen that side of me._   
  
“I’m terribly sorry, Donna.  My mind was elsewhere when it should have been on you,” said James patting her other hand.  “I don’t want you to think I’m an inattentive date.”  
  
It was Benedict’s turn to snort.  Donna caught him rolling his eyes.  
  
 _He must have been plotting his next move. Jimmy thinks he’s so clever, but I saw him kiss Donna in the lobby right before they followed me outside._   
  
“In answer to your question, we met during Ben’s orientation at Harrow,” replied James, pushing his glasses up on his nose.  “We were never roommates.”   
  
“We lived in the same house – the Park,” added Benedict.  “Jimmy was a year ahead of me.”  
  
“Did you guys like being at a boarding school?”  
  
“Yes, actually,” replied James.  “It was a beautiful atmosphere.  It was definitely a privilege to go there.  Lucky for me that I went on partial scholarship and my parents were able to afford the balance.”  
  
“I was there on an art scholarship. It was like Hogwarts,” laughed Benedict.  “Seriously, though, I just loved it.  It was such an extraordinary experience.  Being an only child, it was like I suddenly had all these brothers," he said fondly.  "I must take you to see it sometime.  It's a very picturesque drive. We can take my motorbike and have a picnic along the way.”  
  
James peered around Donna at Benedict with narrowed eyes, then he sat back and gazed out the window, shaking his head.  
  
“Bloody hell, Ben!  It’s a twenty minute ride tops from Hampstead on the M1. What's so picturesque about that? You plan to picnic at the fucking Travel Plaza?  You make it sound like its halfway to friggin’ Cardiff, on a country road meandering through the Cotswolds countryside,” James quipped.   
  
“I don’t know how fast _you_ drive, Mate;  but it’s longer than twenty minutes from Hampstead. I would estimate forty-five minutes depending on traffic,” scoffed Benedict as he looked over Donna's head at James.  "I didn't always take the M1.  I know a backway that takes longer, but happens to be _very_ picturesque."  
  
“Was that in your Mini-Cooper with the cocked up gearbox then?” asked James with a twinkle in his eye.  “If so, I’d certainly believe it. You know I’m still amazed to this day how you managed to do that and still live to tell the tale.”  
  
 _I’ve no plans to tell the tale either,_ thought Benedict. _But I have this awful feeling that you’re going to._  
  
“What happened to your car?” asked Donna innocently.  
  
 _Why did she have to ask?  Because she just like me, and I would have asked. Let me give her an abbreviated version before Rhodes has a chance to chime in with his two pence._  
  
 _Oh, this is fun going down memory lane with them!_ Donna thought happily.  
  
“Let’s just say I had a late night and drove over a large rock in the driveway,” replied Benedict reluctantly.  “It broke the gearbox of my car.”   
  
James began to laugh and looked at Donna.  “We were out clubbing during a Uni break, and he was pissed....”  
  
Donna looked at Benedict disapprovingly.  “You were driving while drunk?”  
  
“I was pleasantly tipsy is all.  I was well within the limits to drive safely.”  
  
It was James’ turn to roll his eyes.  “Okay, for the sake of the story, we’ll say that old Ben here had a bit too much to drink,” he stage-whispered to Donna behind his hand.  
  
“I was legally sober,” insisted Benedict.  
  
James frowned at Benedict disapprovingly and shook his head. _Oh, let me humour the clot. But no matter what he says, he was pissed.  Actually, we were all pissed that night._  
  
James sighed.  “I will agree that you weren’t _totally_ off your face.”  
  
“Thank you for the correction,” said Benedict in a peevish tone.  “I had trouble seeing clearly in the dark – the light over the garage was out if you remember,” he said to James.  “And I had trouble....”  
  
“The street lamp was on in front of your house.  Bright as could be.  Adam and I had no trouble seeing the rock, and we were also pleasantly tipsy.  The bloody thing is immense! Don’t you remember? We yelled:  Ben, watch out for your mum’s fucking rock!”  
  
 _He needs to shut the fuck up.  Donna’s going to think I always go around driving when I’ve had too much to drink.  I only did it that one time._   
  
Benedict looked at Donna.  “My Mum had this large rock on the side of the driveway for decorative purposes....”  
  
“Actually, you drove over the Belgian block border first.  The rock was behind the border. I distinctly recall your driving us over the Belgium blocks just before you went over the rock, which was huge.  We can call Ackland – he’ll corroborate what I’m saying.”  
  
 _And I have no doubt that Adam would enjoy nothing better_. “Let’s not and say we did, Jimmy,” snapped Benedict.  
  
“Then what happened?” Donna prodded gently.  _This is getting interesting._  
  
James leaned forward so he could look at both Donna and Benedict. “Well, after driving over the Belgium blocks, he hits this huge motherfucker of a rock and took out the whole gearbox!”  
  
Benedict rolled his eyes.  “It wasn’t that big of a rock,” he sniffed.   
  
“It was more like a boulder,” James snickered.  He looked at his watch.  “It’s still not too late to call Ackland.”  
  
“Piss off, Jimmy,” said Benedict.  “I couldn’t see the driveway clearly in the dark, so I drove over the rock and the fucking car chose to drop dead.  No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get the bloody transmission to shift is all.  The car was toast. The end.”  
  
James wagged his finger at Benedict.  “That’s not the whole story, Ben.”  He looked at Donna.  “Anyway, as he said, he drives over the boulder – I mean rock – and the car won’t budge.  Now, Ben’s in a complete panic that his parents are going to hear all the noise and come down.”  
  
“I was terrified I’d never get another car. That was my Mum’s old Mini and my first car,” explained Benedict. “Go ahead, Jimmy.  You’re making such a right meal of this, you might as well finish the story,”  He added sarcastically.   
  
“After what seemed like forever; Ackland finally gets the clutch working.  Ben shifts it into second gear and succeeds in going back over the bloody rock, totaling the gearbox. It went right through the fucking floor!  There was smoke everywhere!”  
  
“Bollocks! I don’t remember any smoke,” Benedict said testily.    
  
“Trust me, there was plenty of smoke!”  James said to Donna. “To this day, Ben, I still don’t understand why you drove back over it.  I would have tried to go around it, but I guess you weren’t thinking clearly after all that you drank.”  
  
Benedict’s face reddened.  “I fail to see the humour in this, Jimmy.  It was an accident,” he said to Donna primly. "It could have happened to anybody."  He glared at James over Donna's head, willing him to shut up.   
  
_Okay, Donna.  Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea to take a trip down Memory Lane.  Benedict’s clearly embarrassed and James is reveling in it._   
  
“Ben, I thought your dad was going to kill you that night right in the fucking driveway!” laughed James, slapping his thigh.  “Christ – the look on his face was priceless.  Standing there in his pajamas and his nose was twitching like a bleedin’ rabbit! Remember?”    
  
 _Christ, Jimmy!  What other humiliating anecdotes are you going to bring up when you're finally done with this one?_  
  
Suddenly, Donna had a very vivid mental picture of posh and proper Tim standing in the driveway, and it made her giggle.    
  
“I bet it was the same face he made when I spilled all the cake on him that afternoon!” Donna blurted out.   
  
Benedict stopped to look at her in puzzlement as realization overtook him.  
  
“You’ve met my dad.”  It was a statement rather than a question.  
  
“Yes,” Donna nodded as she continued to giggle.  “Actually, we’ve met twice. The first time was a quite a calamity!”  
  
“Oh!  You’re the one who spilled the tea and sweets on him at the Orangery!” exclaimed Benedict in a low voice.  
  
Donna bowed to him.  “The very one.  I felt so bad.  He was so sweet and understanding, but I knew deep down inside he wanted to smack me.”  
  
“Jesus.”  Benedict gazed out the window.  The corners of his mouth had started to turn up.  “Jimmy told me the story.  Then I asked my dad about it – I think you seriously scarred him for life.  He was quite taken with your handbag though,” added Benedict with a smirk.  
  
Donna patted her large handbag.  “Not in a good way, I’m sure.”  
  
“Actually, no.  He couldn’t stop talking about all the things you had in it. Christ, I should have made the connection, but he never used your name.  He just kept saying 'this girl at the Orangery',” said Benedict.  
  
 _I knew Tim was watching and listening to me that whole time.  He and Wanda were texting each other right in front of me!  Poor Benedict.  I bet you don’t know that I was having tea with your father’s lover when this happened._  
  
James coughed and started to giggle.  “Wait a minute!  Then this means you’re the girl who was at Barbecoa!”  
  
Benedict grinned at him over Donna's head and nodded.  “That was her.”  
  
Donna frowned slightly at Benedict. _He told James about the night we met?  What in the hell did he tell him?_  
  
“She’s the one you said was a camel and spilled the drink on your hand....”  
  
“It wasn’t all that funny....” interrupted Donna, feeling a bit miffed.  
  
“Oh, yes it was!” laughed Benedict.  “Well, not at the time.  I wanted to deck you with those cheeky comments of yours.”  
  
Donna turned to face him.  “You were no better with your snotty insinuations and flip remarks, Benedict.”  
  
“You were texting about me to your sister, for fuck’s sake! Was that nice?”  
  
“You did the same!  I caught you!” countered Donna.  
  
“At least I didn’t take a picture of your clothing.”  
  
“What the fuck?  Somehow you neglected to tell me about that!” exclaimed James with delight.  
  
Donna and Benedict stared at each other and began to laugh.  
  
“He was wearing the cutest little owl socks that night.”  
  
“Like these,” said Benedict as he pushed up his trouser leg so James could see his socks.  “They were a joke gift from Mum.  I only wear them at home and ....”  
  
James started to laugh.  “Oh, please spare me the I-only-wear-them-at-home explanation.  You’re wearing them because that’s all the clean socks you have left.”  He looked at Donna.  “This is a result of his only doing laundry when he’s bang out of clothes.  Well, I guess we know what you’re doing tomorrow, Ben!”   
  
_Well done, Jimmy.  What else can you embarrass me with?_  
  
Donna smiled smugly at Benedict.  _Just as I suspected!_  
  
James looked at Donna.  “You hid the melted ice cream in his napkin and it got all over his jeans!”    
  
“I thought he was done eating,” said Donna defensively.  “Who knew he was going to pick it up again when he came back from the bathroom?”  
  
James wiped a tear from his eye.  “You two were arguing over who the starters belonged to!  Oh, Christ, that was funny.  Ben imitated you to perfection.  I seriously almost peed myself a little by the time he was done.  I never put two and two together that it was you until just now!”  
  
 _How nice he can do an imitation of me,_   thought Donna.  _Wait until I next get a chance to touch his scalp...._   
  
“My favorite memory of that night was when Donna cut into the lamb kebab, and the motherfucking thing literally flew off the plate and landed on Jamie Oliver’s feet!” continued Benedict laughing, as tears formed in his eyes.  “I wish I had a picture of the expression on his face.”  
    
_Well, Mr. Cumberbatch didn’t leave out a thing.  He told him everything, bless his little heart and big mouth.  Wait - he forgot the stools.  I remain with some dignity intact._   
  
Benedict suddenly looked thoughtful.  He gave Donna a gentle smile and touched her hand.  “I will always remember when you first sat down,  you weren’t paying attention and the stool tipped you over onto me.  I guess I can say that you literally fell for me.”  He winked playfully at her.  
  
Donna nodded and returned the smile.  _There goes my dignity, but who cares, he's such a romantic._ “It was quite a night. I’ll never forget it either.”  
  
James Rhodes suddenly felt like a third wheel, as the couple beside him continued to gaze into each others eyes.  He also felt more than a little jealous.   
  
  
  
  
  
Donna Saint James was grateful that the remainder of the cab ride was uneventful.  Both Benedict and James sat in their respective corners, gazing out the windows, as Donna sat in between them with her hands folded demurely in her lap.    
  
All of a sudden, Donna watched as Benedict’s large hand began to move towards her.  
  
 _Good grief!  He wants to hold my hand in front of James?  What’s wrong with him?_  
  
Then Donna caught movement from the corner of her eye as James’ hand began to move towards her just as furtively.  
  
 _These two have got to stop,_ thought Donna as she refolded her hands close to her waist.  She watched in amusement as neither man looked to see where his hand was heading.  Instead they both pretended to concentrate on the view outside of their respective windows while moving their hands closer and closer to Donna’s lap.  
  
James reached out and grasped Donna’s hand in his, pleased that he could do it without looking.   
  
_How cold and smooth her hand is,_ thought James as he caressed the back of her hand with his thumb.  _But I don’t recall her hand being so much larger than mine!_  
  
Benedict felt around blindly until he clasped Donna’s hand in his and gave it a squeeze.   
  
_Shit!  I don’t recall her having hair on the back of her hand!_  
  
Donna sat there watching the two men take each others hand, thinking they had hers.  She did her best to stifle a laugh as both men realized something wasn’t right and turned their heads to find that they were holding each others hands.  
    
“Jesus fucking Christ!” exclaimed James to Benedict. “You’ve got the coldest fucking hands I’ve ever felt!”  
  
Benedict immediately jerked his had out of James’ grasp as if he had been burned.  
  
“I never realized just how hairy your hands were until now! You should do something about that, Mate.”  
  
“If you two would prefer to sit next to each other, I can trade places with one of you,” giggled Donna.   
  
“Smartass,” Benedict snapped at her.  
  
“Very funny, Donna,” sneered James.  
  
 The cab finally came to a stop in front of the Grosvenor Hotel.  The Grand Imperial restaurant was inside and had an entrance from the street.     
  
“That’ll be six pounds,” announced the cabby.  
  
As James felt in his jeans pocket for his wallet, Donna noticed that Benedict already had some bills folded in his hand.  
  
“Here you go. Thank you and please keep the change,” said Benedict as he opened the door.    
  
“Thank you, sir!”  The cabby was apparently very pleased with Benedict’s tip.   
  
“Let me split it with you,” offered James as he opened the door on his side.”  
  
“Nope.  My treat,” insisted Benedict, who quickly got out and extended his hand to Donna to help her from the cab.  “Donna?”  
  
“I believe she’s my date this evening,” countered James as he held out his hand to Donna.  
  
“There’s no traffic on my side, Jimmy.  It’s safer.”  
  
Donna sat in the middle of the cab’s backseat looking from one to the other.  It was almost comical the way Benedict and James were standing on either side of cab with outstretched hands.    
  
 _Damn!  They’re starting up again.  Just when they were starting to laugh – even though some of  it was at my expense._  
  
The cabby rolled his eyes at her in the mirror.  Then he turned to Donna.  “Next time, if I were you, Miss, I’d leave them both at home and go have a nice dinner by myself.”  
  
Donna smiled at the cabby.  “Not a bad idea, sir!  Sorry they’ve been so...testy. Have a nice evening!”  
  
 _Well, there’s no contest here.  Tonight I’m here as James’ date, so I’ll go with him._  
  
Donna slid across the seat towards James and allowed him to help her out of the cab.  Benedict waited and fell into step beside her and James, who had taken her arm.  Once again, Donna found herself trapped in the middle.  As the trio mounted the steps to the restaurant’s entrance, Donna spied Benedict and James casting a furtive glance at each other over her head.  Benedict was frowning, and James was smiling smugly, as he held onto Donna's arm.  
  
The entrance to the restaurant had a revolving door, flanked by two normal doors. As they neared the entrance, both men rushed to open separate doors for her.  
  
 _Damn!  They just about tripped over each other that time.  This has to stop._  
  
Donna Saint James smiled serenely at them both and used the revolving door to enter the restaurant.   
  
  
  
  
  
The Grand Imperial Restaurant was done in black and gold with huge marble pillars and beautiful floral displays in oriental motif vases.   As James approached the podium, Donna took Benedict by the arm and led him so he wasn’t near James.  She beckoned Benedict to lean down so she could whisper in his ear.  
  
“I’m hoping you’ll do your imitation of me Thursday night.  It seems to have been quite a hit with James.  I can hardly wait to see it for myself,” hissed Donna. “Is there nothing you didn’t tell him?”  
  
Benedict blushed.  “For fuck’s sake! We’re mates, Donna!  We got to chatting over burgers and beer one night.”  
  
“You have a big mouth, Benedict.  Some things need to remain between a couple.”  
  
“OH, now we’re a couple, are we?  If we’re a couple, why are you here with him then? You can’t have it both ways, Donna.  I’m not playing the open dating game.”  
  
“Says he who is here on a date with a girl young enough to be his kid sister?  I think we both need to do some serious thinking and then set aside some time to discuss our feelings.”  
  
Benedict counted off on his long, slender fingers: “First of all, I can explain about Heather.  Secondly, I already made my feelings clear, and I thought you had as well....”  
  
“Well, tonight I’m here as James’ date, so I just ask that you respect that.”  
  
“Did you have to kiss him in front of me, Donna?” asked Benedict with a wounded look.   
  
“It’s normal to kiss your date in case you forgot.”  
  
“You kissed me in the bar while he was upstairs,” snickered Benedict.  “And I wasn’t your date, as you’ve reminded me.”  
  
“It wasn’t like that. You grabbed me!  It was just.....”  
  
“Was it better when I kissed you?”

_Damn him and those magnificent cupid's bow lips!  They should be outlawed._

"Well?  I asked you a question, Donna."  
  
“Damn it all!  Of course it was.  No one has ever kissed me like you do, Benedict,” Donna admitted with a twinkle in her hazel eyes.  “You can be such a seductive  bastard.”

Benedict gave her a self-satisfied smile.  
  
“Our table is ready,” said James brightly as he came to join them.  “The others are already sat.”  
  
“I’ve been looking forward to having dinner here,” said Donna excitedly as she followed the host to the table.  “I read that they have a Chinese-inspired afternoon tea here.  It’s definitely something I’d like to try.  Have either of you had it?”  
  
Neither James nor Benedict acknowledged her comment.   
  
_Jesus!  Again with the silent treatment?  What’s wrong with these two? I thought all was on its way to being what passes for well._   
  
Donna turned around to discover that she was the only one following the host.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
“Wait a minute, Ben.  We need to talk,” said James as he laid his hand on Benedict’s arm.  
  
“This isn’t the time or the place, Jimmy.”  
  
“Yes, it is.  It will only take a moment.”  
  
Benedict crossed his arms across his chest.  “Go ahead.”  
  
 _Crossed arms equals closed mind.  He forgets I have a degree in Psychology,_ mused James.   
  
“We’re both interested in the same woman and unfortunately we’re both dating her.”  
  
“And? Tell me something I don't already know.”  
  
“And we can’t have her come between us, Ben.  I don’t know about you, but our friendship means too much to me to have it destroyed by jealously.”  
  
“I’m not jealous.”  
  
James regarded him with raised eyebrows.  “Are you quite sure about that?”  
  
“Okay.  I admit it, I’m jealous.”  
  
“As am I.”  
  
“I hate it.  I can’t bottle up my feelings, Jimmy.  I really have intense feelings for her.”  
  
“I know.  I can see it in your eyes and on your face.”  
  
Benedict sighed. “I always wear my heart on my sleeve. What do you suggest we do then?”  
  
“Act like adults and let the lady decide which of us she wants to be with.”  
  
“Agreed,” said Benedict as he pulled James into a brief hug.  “I’m sorry for being so stropy in the cab.”  
  
“It’s alright, Ben.  I was no better. Let’s put it behind us and enjoy our dinner.”  
  
  
  
  
  
Donna found the rest of the group already seated around a large black lacquered table with matching chairs.  The seats had gold silk pillows and the table was set with a snow-white table cloth and plain white china.  The white napkins were folded like fans.  Donna also noted that there were three empty chairs.  She looked behind her, but James and Benedict were still at the check-in podium.  Heather was seated beside Derren Brown and one of the empty seats.  Her face glowed with excitement.  
  
 _I guess Benedict should sit next to her.  Then that means I’ll have to sit in-between them again.  Maybe I should let James sit next to him, and I’ll sit next to...Hattie.  Shit. I don’t want to sit next to her._  
  
Stephen Fry acted as host and introduced Donna to those she hadn’t met yet.  Finally, after acknowledging everyone, Donna sat in the center chair and adjusted the gold silk pillow behind her back. Not less than a minute later, a smiling Benedict and James plopped down on either side of her.  James thanked everyone for coming and the server appeared to take their drink orders.  
   
“I’m going to try the Pear and Ginger cooler,” said Donna reading from the drinks menu.  “Pear vodka with fresh crushed pears, ginger, lemon and honey water...mmm.  Sounds refreshing. How about you, James?”  
  
To her dismay James was already engrossed in conversation with Hattie about the concert.  From what she could hear it was something about the way the piano was tuned.   She turned to find Benedict looking at her.  
  
“I think I’ll have a glass of the plum wine,” he said to the waiter.  “That should go well with Asian food,” he said to Donna.  
  
“We’ll have the special assorted dim sum for the table,” James said to the waiter.  “Fried and white rice, too. Is everyone good with that?”  
  
Everyone nodded their agreement, and the waiter headed off to the kitchen to place the order.   
  
“I’m so hungry, I don’t know if I can wait much longer,” Heather commented to Benedict.  “I could eat the serviette.”  
  
Benedict took a chocolate mint from his pocket.  “Here.  This will tide you over until the food is served.”  
  
“I don’t like mint.”  
  
“Sorry, then I can’t help you,” Benedict said dismissively as he turned towards Donna. “It’ s my last one. Would you care for it?”  
  
“No need.  Someone gave me my own supply,” Donna smiled and winked at him.  “Wait one minute,” Donna said as she opened her handbag and pulled out her hand sanitizer.  She automatically squeezed some in Benedict’s waiting hand before using it herself.    
  
 _How cute!  He was waiting for it._  
  
 _Christ!  I do believe I’ve been trained._   
  
Benedict rubbed his hands together and wrinkled his nose in distaste.  “Roses again.”  
  
“I only saw you yesterday.  It takes time to go through one of these bottles. From now on, I’ll use the rose at home.”  
  
“What is that?” asked Heather, tugging on Benedict’s sleeve.  
  
“Hand sanitizer.”  
  
“It smells divine!  Just like a rose garden.”  
  
Donna leaned across Benedict.  “Care to try some, Heather?”  
  
“Oh, yes!” replied Heather eagerly as she accepted the bottle from Donna.  
  
Benedict smiled to himself as everyone noticed the sanitizer and the little bottle quickly made the rounds of the table.  _Good, next time she’ll have to bring a different scent._   
  
  
  
  
“I do believe this is done for,” said James as he handed the empty bottle back to Donna and immediately returned his attention to his manager. Donna noticed that Hattie also seemed friendly with James’ manager and his wife.  Apparently, they had all recently gone out together to dinner.  She gazed around the table, everyone was engaged in conversation.    
  
 _They all know each other for a long time and seem to be some how connected to the entertainment industry.  Musicians,  actors and whatever Derren Brown is...I feel like I don’t belong in this world.  It’s funny that Heather’s having no problem fitting in.  Just look at her chatting away with Stephen Fry and his  partner as if she’ s known them for years._  
  
Then Donna noticed that Benedict was also watching Heather’s easy interaction. She leaned her head against Benedict’s shoulder and whispered in his ear.  
  
“Looks like our dates have forgotten about us.”  
  
Benedict took a sip of his wine and smiled at Donna.  
  
“Jimmy is quite the social butterfly at these things.  Once he’s chatted with everyone, he’ll come around and then you won’t be able to get rid of him.  Now, Heather was never my date in the first place.”  
  
Donna smirked.  “So did she just invite herself and show up?” she asked with a touch of sarcasm.  
  
“Not quite, but you’ve got the general idea.  When you turned down my invite, I decided to ask my niece, Emily to join me.  I really was expecting Emily tonight.”  
  
Donna rolled her eyes.  “So your niece changed her mind and decided to send Heather in her place – like a surprise?”  
  
 _Oh, please spare me the bullshit, Benedict.  You invited the cute, young girl and now your embarrassed that you treated her like crap and now she’s not paying attention to you._   
  
“That’s exactly what happened,” said Benedict.  “I found Heather waiting for me in the stalls bar with this half-assed story about how Emmy had suddenly gotten a lot of school work that just had to be done tonight.  They’re roommates at Uni and thick as thieves.  Apparently, Heather is a fan of James and classical music in general.”  
  
“You should give your niece the benefit of the doubt, Benedict, until you have time to talk with her.  Look at it this way: the ticket didn’t go to waste, Heather got to hear James perform, you didn’t have to be alone, and I wound up sitting next to a very nice guy, who gave me a most...invigorating kiss.  I’d say it’s a win/win for all of us.”   
  
“Believe me, I’d much rather had been alone – and before you get the wrong idea - I’m not talking about you.”  
  
Donna looked startled.  “My, Mr. Cumberbatch.  That’s a bit harsh!  Heather seems like a perfectly nice girl.”  
  
Benedict sighed.  “Actually, she’s a very nice, intelligent and all-around lovely girl.  It’s just that since Emmy’s birthday dinner, the two of them have been scheming to set me up with Heather.”  
  
Donna sipped her drink.  “Ah, I see.  Your niece wants to set up her single uncle with her best friend. Not an unheard of scenario.”  
  
“Not only his niece, but his whole bloody family!” laughed James, who had overheard the end of the conversation.  “His mum, bless her, will stop at nothing to find Ben the right bird.  You should hear some of the stuff she’s done to him – in his best interest, of course.”  
  
Benedict’s face turned crimson.   James had also managed to get the whole table’s attention.   
  
_I swear by all that is holy, if he opens his mouth to regale everyone with one of my mother’s well-meaning schemes, I’ll fucking deck him._   
  
_Should I tell them about Wanda and her Craigslist ad?_ wondered Donna.  _It's such a funny story, and I bet Benedict’ s mother couldn’t top that if she tried.  Ha ha ha!  Oh wait.  Then they’d wonder why I was looking at such ads.  I’d have to leave out the part about my answering the ad.  Maybe this isn’t such a good idea.  It will make me sound like a desperate woman._  
  
“Hope everyone is hungry!” announced the waiter as he placed a huge platter on  a rotating tray in the center of the table.    
  
“I do believe you’ve been saved by the dim sum!” said Donna Saint James, poking Benedict Cumberbatch gently in the ribs.  
  
  


 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. We will pretend that the Grand Imperial has two doors, plus a revolving door in between for the purposes of this story.   
> 2\. The afternoon tea at the Grand Imperial is unique and delicious. All Chinese sweets and savories.   
> 3\. I have greatly embellished the Mini-Cooper story, which Benedict told on Top Gear. I have no idea how gearboxes work or don’t work.   
> 4\. Angel refers to the Buffy the Vampire Slayer spinoff about the ever-brooding vampire, Angel.


	40. Chapter 40

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Benedict and James escalate things during dinner, as tension mounts to an all-time high.

 

In the years to come, Benedict Cumberbatch, James Rhodes and Donna Saint James would refer to what went on during the night of the concert  simply as “The Competition”.  All three would immediately know what it signified and would share a hearty laugh. However, at the time, it was anything but laughable to them....  
  
*************************************************************  
  
Benedict Cumberbatch eyed the platter of dim sum hungrily.  The waiter was just starting to go into his spiel about how all the dim sum before them were lovingly made by hand by a famous chef from Hong Kong.  He watched as Donna sat at rapt attention, taking it all in.  She unobtrusively took out her mobile and sent a quick message to someone.  
  
“Shame on you for texting while he’s going on about the purity of the oil they use for deep frying,” Benedict mock scolded Donna. “As if I could give two shits.”  
  
“You’re right.  I shouldn’t have. I’m taking notes about the dim sum for future reference.  Even though I _am_ interested in what he has to say, this is the kind of crap he should have been telling us before James ordered. It’s intended to influence your decision as to what to eat,” whispered Donna behind her hand.  
  
“Well, I’m ready to tuck into the serviette at this point. I wish he would have just plunked the bloody tray down and left.  I haven’t eaten since lunch, and I’m ravenous,” Benedict whispered back.  “It’ll be cold by the time he’s done.”  
  
“Shhhhh...he’s going to hear us. It’ll be okay as long as he keeps everything covered. You should do what I do.  When I know I’m going to have a late dinner, I make myself half of a sandwich to eat before I leave.  Works every time. I’m ready for dinner now, but not starved,” suggested Donna.    
  
“I did offer you some of my caramel corn, Benedict,” chimed in Heather.  
  
“Jesus!  He needs to shut up and let us eat,” James whispered to Donna, who smiled and nodded.  “I haven’t eaten all fucking day.”  
  
 _Don’t these men eat regular meals? No wonder they’re both so thin,_ thought Donna.  
  
“If you had said something, James, I could have had something ready for you when you came around to pick me up,” said Hattie, touching his forearm. “Or I could have gone out to get you a sandwich rather than waiting around backstage.”  
  
Donna’s eyes bore into James, but he only seemed to have eyes for Hattie.  
  
 _He picked her up, and she got to hang out backstage. I’m supposed to be his date, and I took the tube and was told not to come backstage.  What’s wrong here?_  
  
Benedict almost choked on his plum wine.  _How many dates does the wanker have for tonight?_   _Christ, I certainly underestimated him all these years!_  
  
“Oh, I wouldn’t have been able to eat a thing, Hattie...I get so uptight before a show,” laughed James nervously. “But you’re such a love to offer.”    
  
Donna and Benedict noticed that James suddenly looked a bit uncomfortable.  His face had considerably reddened as he nervously tapped his chopsticks on the table.  
  
Benedict leaned close to Donna and whispered into her ear.    
  
“How does it feel to be the spare woman?” he asked sarcastically.  
  
“I really wish you’d keep your wiseass comments and questions to yourself, Benedict,” hissed Donna, clearly annoyed at what she had just found out.    
  
The waiter, realizing that he has lost the attention of some of his audience, smiled graciously and began to quickly uncover and point out all the different varieties of dim sum to the hungry diners:  
  
“We have steamed pumpkin and seafood dumplings, crispy vegetarian spring rolls, honey barbeque pork pastries, pan fried rice ball with dried shrimp, spinach and prawn dumplings, minced duck in lettuce leaves, deep fried sweet and sour wontons, crispy wild mushroom croquettes, crab meat long bao and chicken sui mai with black truffles.  I will also be bringing bowls of our special fried rice and jasmine rice.”  
  
“I can’t wait to sink my teeth into those dumplings!” said Heather as she eagerly began to fill her plate.  “This is all-I-can-eat, right?” she paused and asked Benedict, who nodded indulgently at her.  
  
“Tea, Ladies?” Benedict asked Heather and Donna.  “I was thinking of ordering the Honey Phoenix Oolong.”  
  
Heather nodded her agreement as she munched on a pumpkin dumpling.  
  
“Mmmm  mmmmm. These are soooo good!”  She put one on Benedict’s plate. “You’ll really like these. They’re so full of flavor. Oh, and try one of the spring rolls and let me know if they’re any good,” Heather added as she plopped one onto Benedict’s plate.  
  
“I would love some tea,” replied Donna.  “Have you tried the duck in the lettuce cups, Benedict?”  
  
“No, my mum hasn’t given me one yet,” he quipped indicating Heather with a slight incline of his head.  Benedict helped himself to one of the lettuce cups and took a bite. “Yes, it is marvelous.” He finished the cup and drank some wine.  
  
Everyone at the table was thoroughly enjoying the dim sum.  Donna noticed that James’ attention was primarily focused on Hattie and; to a lesser extent,  his best friend, Robert.  She bit into a crispy spring roll and tried not to allow her temper to get the best of her.  
  
 _I need to stop watching them or everyone will soon realize that I’m not happy with James right now.  Now, that I think of it, Stephen Fry introduced me as James’ friend, rather than his date.  Oh, James, I think you’re playing games and walking a very thin line right now,_ Donna thought as she spread a bit of hot mustard on her spring roll _._  
  
Benedict gently touched her forearm to get her attention. “Erm, Donna, I was just thinking about our cab ride...”  
  
Donna looked up from her spring roll. _Good gravy! I was trying to put that out of my mind!_  
  
“You mentioned that you met my dad more than once.  The first time being at the Orangery.  I was just curious about the other times.”  
  
 _Of course you are!  And if I were you, I’d be curious, too._  
  
Donna helped herself to one of the barbeque pork pastries.  “I only met him one other time. James and I met at a cafe for coffee one Saturday afternoon after the Orangery debacle; and your dad was there, too.  That was when we were properly introduced.”  
  
 _I’ll just leave out the part about your dad having an obvious rendezvous with his lover in the back of the cafe._  
  
“Oh, so you must have met my mum then.”  
  
 _Poor thing was probably home cleaning the house while your father was relaxing with Wanda._  
  
“I don’t think she was there, Benedict.”  
  
“Impossible,” Benedict chuckled.  “My parents are joined at the hip – especially when they’re doing their Saturday shopping.”  
  
 _A lot you don’t know. Shit!  What should I tell him?  He’ll certainly ask James....if they’re still speaking by the end of the evening._  
  
“Your dad was alone when James introduced us.  Maybe she was sitting down already.  I don’t know,” said Donna.  “Granted, I would have loved to have met her...”  
  
 _Oh, oh.  Did that sound pushy?  I don’t want to give him the wrong idea._  
  
 _Is Donna ready to meet Mum?  She seems like she wants to.  I don’t know if I’m ready for her to meet Mum yet.  One has to build up to it gradually._  
  
Benedict nodded as he ate some of his wild mushroom croquette.  “It certainly is a small world,” he commented thoughtfully.  
  
“I remember your telling me that your dad is an actor.  Have you ever worked together?”  
  
“No, but I hope we get the opportunity someday,” he said wistfully.  “He’s a fine actor.”  
  
 _When I get home I must remember to look up Timothy Cumberbatch. I’ve certainly never heard of him. I could picture him acting in a drama or a sitcom._  
  
“How about with your mom?  She’s an actress, too, if I recall correctly.”  
  
“Sadly, no.  I think it would be great fun to work along side both of them.  They are extraordinary actors, and I have learned much from them.”  
  
“Maybe you’ll get a chance in the future,” smiled Donna.  _I need to look up the mother, too; but I need her name._   “What is you mom’s....”  
  
Heather mumbled something through a mouthful of spring roll to Donna and Benedict, who frowned at her.  
  
“Neither of us could understand a word you just said, Heather.  Could you please tell us again – _after_ you’ve taken the time to swallow.  We’ll wait.”

Heather chewed thoroughly, swallowed and sipped some of the Chinese beer she had ordered before repeating her comment.  
  
“I said that I loved your dad in the _Scarlett Pimpernel_.  He looked so sexy! Emmy cringes whenever I say that, but it’s true!”  
  
Benedict looked as if he would choke.  _Why did I have to ask her to repeat herself?_  
  
“And he’s still a sexy beast!” Heather laughed as she scooped out a healthy portion of the fried rice onto her plate, leaving it virtually empty. “That thick, wavy silver hair and those hazel eyes – he’s still in great shape for his age, too.”

 _Damn.  No fried rice for me to_ night.  I can't believe she almost ate the whole frigging bowl!thought Donna. 

 _Some things you are better off not knowing, Benedict,_ he thought as he signaled the waiter for more rice _.  It’s like those middle aged men who still have a thing for Mum. Shut up and pay attention to James and Hattie. There’s a lot of potential here for the shit to hit the fan._  
  
 _The Scarlett Pimpernel?  I know I’ve seen that movie.  I’ll have to re-watch it to see if I can spot the young Tim Cumberbatch,_ thought Donna.

As if on cue, another server placed a large, fresh bowl of steaming fried rice on the table just out of Donna's reach.   
  
“Rice, Donna?” Benedict passed the bowl of rice to Donna, as Heather looked on.  
  
"Oh, yes, please.  Now, I can finally taste it," Donna replied, mouth watering.  
  
Donna took the large, ceramic bowl from Benedict, which was heaped with the delicious looking fried rice that was studded with egg, shrimp, roasted pork bits, green and white onions, bean sprouts and peas.  It was much heavier than it looked and difficult to hold with one hand.  Donna leaned the edge of the bowl onto the table and tipped it towards her plate. It was hard to see what she was doing.  
  
“Damn, this is heavy,” Donna muttered to herself as she eagerly scooped some onto the table, missing her plate completely.  She passed the bowl to Heather and then noticed the mound of rice on the table next to her plate.  It was also much more than she intended to take - practically half of the contents of the bowl.

"My, I had no idea just how hungry you were," quipped Benedict.  A smile was tugging at the corners of his cupid's bow lips. "Perhaps I should get another bowl."  
  
“Oh, shit.”  Donna looked around to see if anyone had noticed. Those sitting nearby had definitely noticed her faux pas and were trying not to laugh.  "I think I needed another plate..."  
  
“No problem!  Let me help you, Donna.  I’ve done this before,” said Heather loudly, who grabbed Donna’s plate and held it against the edge of the table while she scraped all the rice across the table cloth, heaping it onto the plate with the fork while leaving a brown trail of soy sauce and grease on the snow white tablecloth.  
  
“Thank you, Heather,” said Donna in a small voice, cheeks burning with embarrassment.  
  
“You’re welcome.  This reminded me of an article I was reading last week about a place in the States where the meal is dumped onto the tablecloth and everyone eats off of it. Seriously. I can’t recall where...do you know where it is?”  
  
Donna nodded. “You’re thinking of a crab boil.  It’s a regional specialty.  Baltimore in Maryland is most famous for it.  The tables are covered with butcher paper and the steamed crabs, potatoes and corn are turned out onto the center of the table. Everyone takes a mallet, cracks the crabs and eats with their hands. It’s messy and a lot of fun.”  
  
“I’d love to try something like that,” said Heather.  “Maybe one day I’ll get to go there and see for myself.”  
  
“You know, all you had to do was ask for an extra plate if you didn’t have anymore room on yours,” snickered Benedict.  “I even would have let you eat off mine, being you’re no longer afraid of getting germs from me.”  
  
“Shut up, Benedict.  Please,” said Donna through gritted teeth.  “Everyone’s looking at me.”    
  
“Oh, for fuck’s sake! No one’s looking at you!”  
  
Suddenly, the server, who had been replenishing everyone’s water, was standing over her, looking at the ruined tablecloth in disgust.  He quickly left and returned with a clean, white serviette.  
  
“Allow me, Madame,” he said, as he shook open the napkin with a flourish and laid it on the table to cover the stain.  “There.  Would Madame care for a clean plate?”  
  
“Yes, please,” replied Donna thinly.    
  
“I do think the overly dramatic shaking out of the napkin got everyone’s attention,” quipped Benedict, trying to curtail a laugh.  
  
“Just what I didn’t want.  Jesus.”  
  
 “Oh, stop being so stropy, Donna.  It was just an accident,” Benedict said with a wave of his hand. “It could have happened to anyone. You need to relax and laugh it off.”

The server returned with a large dinner plate and set it before Donna with a small bowl.  Everyone else at the table had medium-sized plates. Benedict bit his lip and looked down at his plate, shoulders shaking with laughter.  
  
“Did he have to do that?”  
  
“It could have been worse,” pointed out Benedict.  “He could have wound up with flying rice landing on his shoes or worse on my shoes.”  
  
Donna started to smile at him as she thought of their restaurant calamities.  “Then between my rice and Heather’s soda, your shoes would have had a complete meal. Point made, Mr. Cumberbatch. Could you please help me with the rice?”  
  
The meal continued without further incident. James had returned his attention to Donna, and Benedict had made sure to include Heather in his conversation with others at the table.  
  
“This is some of the best fried rice I’ve ever had,” Donna said to Benedict enthusiastically. “Could I trouble you to scoop out a bit more for me?”  
  
“Of course.”  He smiled as he picked up the bowl to portion out some for her.  “Your plate or the table?”  
  
Donna rolled her eyes at him and began to eat her rice. Benedict sat back and studied her while finishing his plum wine.  
  
 _I love watching how much she enjoys her food. I need to ask her out again before Jimmy does.  Let’s see...I wonder what we could do that would be different from just dinner out?_  
  
“Jimmy, I loved your encore dedication.  It just gave me goosebumps,” began his manager’s wife.    
  
“Such a sweet thing to do,” added Derren Brown.  
  
“You must have felt so honored,” Derren’s partner, Mark said as he looked in Donna’s general direction.  
  
Benedict watched with amusement as both Donna and Hattie seemed to puff up with pride at his words.  
  
 _Oh, how very interesting!  Hattie seems to think the dedication was for her!  I wonder how Jimmy’s going to handle this?_  
  
“Well, I was so very touched...,” began Donna with a blush.  
  
“It took me completely by surprise!” giggled Hattie at the same time.  
  
James sat with his head bent as he focused on eating a rice ball as if his life suddenly depended upon it.  Benedict watched as his friend’s cheeks began to redden again.  
  
 _Well, well.  All of a sudden he chooses now to take a vow of silence?  This will not do,_ thought Benedict as he poured himself some tea.  
  
Heather paused with her chopsticks in mid-air.  “Oh, Hattie, I thought it was the most romantic gesture ever! How thoughtful to have your boyfriend tell the world how he feels, yet in a private way.”  
  
Benedict smiled to himself as he watched James shift uncomfortably in his seat.  _And to think I didn’t want Heather to stay. I love how she’s just getting him in deeper and deeper._  
  
Hattie beamed.  “It certainly was – and totally unexpected!”  She leaned over to give James a kiss on the cheek and smiled at him adoringly. “He’s such a thoughtful and considerate man. I’m very lucky to have found him in the Steinway Store that day.”  
  
Benedict snorted into his teacup, as Hattie gently patted James’ face.  
  
 _Well, fuck me!  There’s a lot going on at the Steinway Store. Not only is he practicing piano, but also his pickup lines!_  
  
“So the Steinway Store is your preferred spot to pick up women then?” Benedict asked innocently, as he peered around Donna at James. “Why haven’t I thought of that?”  
  
Everyone at the table laughed at Benedict’s words.  
  
James leaned forward in his chair to stare at Benedict, who smiled serenely at him.  The pianist was seething.  
  
 _What the fuck happened to our truce? Cumberbatch wants to play games, I’ll play,_ thought James angrily.  
  
“Probably because you prefer going to Laduree and pretending to be French in order to woo the counter girls from Yorkshire,” shot back James in a voice, dripping with sarcasm. “There’s nothing like telling a woman she has eyes like two round cabbages – unless you meant her tits.”  
  
Everyone at the table was thoroughly enjoying the pretend banter between James and Benedict, except Donna who had a sneaking suspicion that the two men meant every word they had uttered.  Her curiosity was at an all-time high.  
  
 _Okay, so James met Hattie at the Steinway Store, too.  Now, what’s this about Benedict and Laduree?  Sounds very interesting, but I’ll leave that for another time.  Benedict’s face is red from the neck up. Whatever happened must have been very embarrassing to him._  
  
Stephen Fry smiled at Hattie, who was glowing from all the attention.  “I know if I were a young woman, I’d be over-the-moon to have the man in my life dedicate a song to me as a declaration of his feelings.  That was an absolutely lovely thing to do.  Well done you, James.”  
  
James smiled bashfully and took a sip of tea.  “Awww it was nothing, really...”  
  
James’ friend, Robert, smiled warmly at the pianist and raised his teacup to him.  “To romance! And to my best pal, Jimmy, who is a fine example of a man who does his best to keep it alive!”  
  
“To romance!  To James!” everyone raised their teacups and drank.  
  
Benedict and Donna exchanged furtive glances.  
  
“Please, stop!  You’re embarrassing me, Rob!” protested James.  He quickly looked down at his plate as if he had found something fascinating on it.  
  
Donna found her temper beginning to get the best of her.  _They have it all wrong, and that little dick is letting everyone believe that the dedication was for her!  What the fuck is up with that? Is he afraid of incurring her wrath or is he trying to play both sides of the fence? I’m not going to let him get away with this._  
  
Benedict shook his head in disbelief. _You right wanker!  You’re not going to own up to which of the ladies you really dedicated the song to. I’m going to have to do something about that. Its time to force the confession out of the tit._  
  
Before Donna could open her mouth, Benedict patted his lips with his napkin and leaned over the table so James could see him clearly.    
  
“Excuse me, Jimmy; but didn’t you tell me in the lobby that the song was dedicated to Donna because that was the song you were playing in the Steinway Store the day you first met.....”  
  
 _You cheeky bastard!  Putting me on the spot in front of all my friends! I just needed a little time to figure out what to tell Donna, so she wouldn’t be angry with me._  
  
“.....and it was a favorite of Donna’s?  Isn’t that right, Donna? Please feel free to correct me if I’m wrong.”  
  
Donna smiled widely at Benedict, who winked at her.  “Yes, that’s exactly how it happened.”  
  
 _Benedict to the rescue!  He doesn’t approve of how James is **not** handling this.   _  
  
Hattie stopped smiling.  She peered around James to look at Donna, as if she were first seeing her.  Then she glared at James as what had happened sunk in.  James sat, elbows on the table with his hands steepled under his chin.  He was beginning to fidget in his seat.  
  
“Oh!  The encore was for you then?” Heather asked Donna loudly.    
  
All eyes moved from Hattie to Donna.  Donna suddenly felt Benedict’s hand pat her knee in encouragement under the table.  She placed her hand on top of his.  
  
“I was under the impression it was,” replied Donna.  “James?”  
  
Benedict smiled at his friend over Donna’s head.  _And now it’s time to come clean, Jimmy._  
  
“Did Donna and I misunderstand you, Jimmy?" chimed in Benedict. "I really was under the impression that the encore was dedicated to Donna – no offense, Hattie.  It’s just that Donna and I were in the lobby and Jimmy told us it was...”  
  
 _I suppose this is my payback for the cab ride,_ thought James miserably. _Cumberbatch paybacks really are a bitch. I just had to tell the story of the gearbox fiasco._  
  
“No, you understood just fine, Ben.  Sorry, Hattie, but the encore was meant for Donna.”  
  
All eyes were now focused on Hattie and James. James kept licking his lips. He removed his glasses and cleaned them on the napkin in order to stall for time while his brain worked frantically trying to come up with a plausible explanation that wouldn't anger both women.  
  
 _And now I’m going to go curl up into a ball and die from embarrassment.  Thank you, Cumberbatch._  
  
Hattie’s face was beet red. “Please excuse me. I have a terrible headache,” she said as she hastily rose and banged the chair leg down on James’ foot.  “I’ll see myself out,” she spat at James, whose face was contorted in pain.  
  
“Ow! Shit! That hurt!” exclaimed James as he rubbed his foot. He quickly pushed back his chair and followed Hattie out of the restaurant.  
  
Donna patted Benedict’s hand.  “My hero.  I was starting to think I was in the Twilight Zone, and it didn’t happen.”  
  
“I can’t believe he took so long to admit it,” said Heather.  “What a prick!”  
  
Benedict leaned back in his chair and looked from Donna to Heather.  “And that, Ladies, is a prime example of open dating gone awry.”    
  
Heather shrugged and went back to her crab long bao.  “You make a good point, Benedict.  Dating more than one person at the same time doesn’t always pay. Too much potential for things to go wrong.”  
  
“As we just witnessed here,” agreed Benedict, staring at Donna.    
  
Donna met his gaze.  I-told-you-so was written all over his face.  He gave her a smug smile.  
  
 _Crap.  Benedict really does have a point. This was a case of open dating backfiring.  Poor Hattie.  She must be humiliated, not that I wasn’t, too.  And James...he must be.... Hmmmm,  I don’t think I care how he feels.  He brought it on himself. If it hadn’t been for Benedict opening his mouth, I’d be the one on my way home._  
  
“You’re right, Benedict,” Donna said with a slight smile.  “Could you please pour me some more tea?”  
  
“My pleasure.”  
  
 _Well, that certainly felt good to hear.  Now, I truly understand how Dad feels whenever Mum tells him that._  
  
Stephen Fry addressed Donna from across the table.  “Jimmy told us you’re a writer for the London Tribune.  May I ask which department you’re part of?”  
  
 _Well, at least he honored my request and didn’t say I was a food critic._  
  
“Arts and Leisure.....” began Donna.  
  
“She’s a food critic,” finished Benedict. “Donna writes the Tasty Travels column in the Sunday edition.”  
  
 _Thank you, Benedict.  And now the review of the meal will begin...._  
  
Donna found herself the center of attention as soon as the words left Benedict’s mouth.  It seemed that everyone present were regular readers of her column, and they peppered her with nonstop questions about her job.  It seemed everyone had their own opinions of the food and wanted to compare notes with her.  When the server returned with a replacement platter of dim sum, Benedict used the lull in the conversation to change the subject to politics.  While the table debated a recent change in the VAT tax, Benedict leaned over to whisper in Donna’s ear.  
  
“I realized after I had said it that I shouldn’t have,” said Benedict sheepishly.  
  
 _Those words should be carved on a plaque and hung in his house._  
  
“It’s okay.  A lot of them were familiar with my name already, you just helped them make the connection quicker.  It’s not that I don’t like talking about my job, it’s just that sometimes I want a night off from it.  Don’t you ever get tired of talking about acting?”  
  
Benedict pondered her question and shook his head.  “Nope.”  
  
 _Of course you don’t.  Silly me._  
  
  
  
  
  
After a conspicuous absence of thirty minutes, James Rhodes slunk back into the restaurant alone.  He would only say that Hattie wasn’t feeling well and took a cab home. No one said another word about the concert, and the conversation soon returned to normal. Donna noticed that the pianist was suddenly paying a great deal of attention to her.  
  
 _I wonder if Hattie told him to go to hell?  I would have. I still may._  
  
“Donna, I want to apologize for what happened before,” James began in a low voice.  “I didn’t want to hurt Hattie’s feelings or yours.  It was just a very uncomfortable situation....”  
  
 _Oh isn’t he just the picture of sincerity. Bugger_ , thought Benedict.  
  
“If you were dating one or the other, this wouldn’t have happened,” muttered Benedict, just loud enough that James and Donna heard him.  
  
James leaned back in his chair and snapped at Benedict behind Donna’s back. “Sod off.  This is none of  your fucking business.”  
  
 _Oh, no!  They’re going to start bickering again.  I need to shut them both up. What happened to their good manners?_  
  
“Yes, it is,” sneered Benedict. “I’m dating her, too.”  
  
“No.  It isn’t, Benedict,” hissed Donna angrily.  “This is between James and me.  Please stay out of it.”  
  
Donna noticed that the rest of their table mates were still talking about VAT taxes, seemingly oblivious to the drama going on between the trio.  She turned to regard James, who looked worried.  
  
“I’ll chalk this up to poor judgement on your part tonight.  I hope it won’t happen again, James,” Donna said sternly to him. “No one makes a fool of me twice.”  
  
“As long as you’re involved in open dating, it’s going to happen time and again,” chastised Benedict as he toyed with his chopsticks.  
  
 _It’s time to stop harping on the perils of open dating, Benedict. You’ve made your point so many times that I could scream!  I will not answer him and hopefully, he’ll stop,_ thought Donna as she chose to ignore his barbed comment.    
  
“I give you my word that it won’t.  Thank you for forgiving me, Donna. Really,” said James with a dimpled smile, as he crossed his heart. “Cross my heart. It means a lot to me.”

 _Oh for fuck's sake!_ Benedict rolled his eyes at James over Donna's head.  
  
“Now, lets put it behind us, James, and move on!” said Donna briskly. “Isn’t this dim sum delicious?”  
  
James smiled smugly at Benedict over Donna’s head as he ate a pumpkin and seafood dumpling.  
  
 _He’s feeling cocky right now because she forgave him.  I would have told him to piss off,_ thought Benedict irritably.  
  
As they continued to eat, Benedict recalled some of the advice James had given him about winning over Donna:  
  
 ** _“... You have to make sure you keep inviting her out......Aren’t you recording Cabin Pressure next Sunday?  Invite her to see you act. Your portrayal of Martin Crief is hysterical.... You don’t want this wanker to get one up on you.”_ **  
  
_No, I definitely don’t_ , thought Benedict.  
  
“Donna, I’m recording a radio program Sunday afternoon for BBC4.  It’s a comedy called Cabin Pressure. Would you fancy coming to the studio to be part of the audience?”  
  
Donna smiled and nodded with enthusiasm. “Yes!  I’d love to see what goes on behind the scenes of a radio show.  We don’t have anything like that at home.  What is Cabin Pressure about?”  
  
“Well, it’s about a small charter airline; and I play the captain. This is our second season.  So far, it’s been well-received; and it’s such a treat to do,” replied Benedict proudly.  “The cast is extraordinary.  Afterwards, we can get a bite to eat.”  
  
James’ had been chatting with Robert, who had moved into Hattie’s now vacant seat, when his ears caught the conversation between Benedict and Donna.    
  
 _Seems Ben is taking my advice after all.  Let’s see, what days am I free the rest of the week?_  
  
James nonchalantly removed his mobile phone and consulted the calendar. _Excellent!  I’ve got plenty of time free the rest of the week. Just one meeting with my manager and some practice sessions._  

His own words of advice rang in his ears:  
  
 ** _“... You have to make sure you keep inviting her out. You could ask her over to your place and make her dinner......... You don’t want this wanker to get one up on you.”_**  
  
 _No, I sure as shit don’t,_ thought James.  
  
“I’d like to invite you to my flat for dinner tomorrow night, Donna.  I’ll cook.....”  
  
Benedict began to laugh and clapped his hands together with glee.  “Oh for fuck’s sake!  You can’t cook – you bring in takeaway and pass it off as your own cooking!”  
  
 _You’re not playing nice, Ben_ , thought James testily.    
  
“....and we can watch some films.  I just got some new DVDs.”  
  
“How boring,” muttered Benedict in a low voice. "I would have taken you out to a _real_ cinema."  
  
Donna stared at Benedict.  _What the fuck?_   I’ll just ignore his comments.  
  
“Tomorrow night's fine, James.  I look forward to it.”  
  
 _Now, let’s turn the tables and see if Mr. Owl can cook._  
  
Donna turned to Benedict.  “So, Benedict, do _you_ know how to cook?”  
  
Benedict nodded eagerly. “Yes! I enjoy cooking very much. I have a small but tasty repertoire of recipes that I like to make.  Care to sample my cooking Saturday night?”  

James shot him a withering look over Donna's head.  Benedict pointed a long index finger at him and smiled.  
  
“Let me check my calendar....” Donna pulled out her cellphone.  Benedict watched as a frown crossed her pretty face.  
  
 _Let’s see. Saturday is the day I meet Wanda’s son, and I absolutely will not cancel that. I need to fulfill my obligation to her.  If everything goes perfectly, I should be done by mid-afternoon. That will give me time to go home and change. I doubt Wanda’s son would ask me out for that evening.  Coffee that afternoon is the best I can hope for, even if I have to extend the invitation.  I should be able to go to Benedict’s for dinner.  I’m also dying to see where he lives._  
  
“What time shall I come over?” Donna asked brightly.  
  
“Six. I’ll email you my address and directions when I get home.”  
  
“Six it is.”  
  
Benedict smiled triumphantly at James over Donna’s head and winked.  
  
 _There’s Saturday lunch,_ thought James. Oh, Borough Market would be brilliant!  Ben likes to sleep in, so I’ll nab this slot.  
  
“Have you been to Borough Market, Donna?”  
  
“Not yet, but I’ve heard wonderful things about it.”  
  
“We can go Saturday morning – you can spend hours there.”  
  
“I’m so sorry, James; but I’ve got plans Saturday.  My day is pretty much taken up,” said Donna apologetically.  
  
 _And motherfucking Cumberbatch has her tied up for dinner and most of Sunday._  
  
“Are they open any other days?” Donna asked. “We can go another day. My schedule is fairly flexible.”  
  
“Yeah.  How about Friday? We could meet at lunchtime.”  
  
“Sounds perfect.  I’ll bring my appetite,” laughed Donna.  “And my market basket.”  
  
“That’s a bad time to go.  It will be like a zoo,” chimed in Benedict.  “I’ll be happy to take you when it’s less crowded.”  
  
“I’d like to see _you_ get up that early,” snickered James.  
  
The busboys came to clear off the table.  Within minutes the waiter returned with a sumptuous-looking platter of puddings:  
  
“Hope everyone saved room for pudding!  We have apple fritters, banana fritters, custard bao and waterchestnut tart.  All made in-house by our renowned pastry chef from Shanghai.”  
  
“What can I get you, Donna?” asked Benedict, taking her plate in hand.  
  
“I think I’ll try one of each. After all, they do have a renowned pastry chef; so it’s my duty to taste all of them.”  
  
James did his best to hide his temper, which was rapidly coming to the surface.  _She’s my date, and he’s fetching her pudding.  What’s wrong with this picture?_  
  
James cleared his throat.  “Ahem.  Tea, Donna?”  
  
 _I’m suddenly starting to feel like a ping pong ball,_ Donna thought.    
  
“Thank you, James; but Benedict already poured me some while you were talking.”  
  
Benedict winked at James over Donna’s head, as he ate a custard bao.  
  
James scowled back at him.  
  
 _I’m going away for a few weeks to film, so I need to make sure I see enough of Donna before I go,_ thought Benedict.  _I know he’s going to take up all her time while I’m gone. Jimmy mentioned a boat ride on the Thames. That sounds romantic, but when?_  
  
“We could go for a boat ride on the Thames Thursday night,” suggested James.  
  
Benedict did a double take. _Christ!  The bastard beat me to it, bless him!  Oh, wait a minute, he said Thursday. Ha!_  
  
“Sorry, Mate; but the lady’s seeing me Thursday night,” snickered Benedict, leaning around Donna.  
  
James thought he had discretely flipped Benedict the bird behind her chair, but Donna caught it.  Benedict not-so-discretely returned the rude gesture behind her chair, which she also saw.  
  
 _Oh my God!  Enough already!  They’re acting like they’re in high school._  
  
Donna noticed that now the whole table was trying not-so-discreetly to keep up with what was taking place between the three of them.  Their volume had risen substantially as the situation was escalating.  The only one who didn’t seem interested was Heather, who was taking photos of the food to email to Emily.    
  
Donna held up her hand and hissed at Benedict and James under her breath.  “Gentlemen, please!  Between the two of you, I’ve got the remainder of the week filled.  I do need some time to myself.  I appreciate all of your kind invitations, but we need to take it easy. You’re not in a competition to see who can book the most dates!”  
  
 _Yeah, right.  A lot you don’t know about men,_ thought Benedict as glowered at James over Donna’s head.  
  
 _We sure as shit are in a competition_ , thought James as he returned the glower.  
  
 _Apologize and look humble, Benedict.  She’ll know if you’re not. She always knows._  
  
“It’s certainly not _my_ intent to smother you, Donna,” said Benedict with a sad look as he gently patted her hand.    
  
“Then what would you call it?” challenged James as he leaned in towards Benedict, dark brown eyes flashing.  “You haven’t come up for air!”  
  
Benedict took Donna’s hand in his and crinkled his nose at her.  “It’s just that I’m leaving Monday afternoon for a location shoot.  I’ll be gone three weeks and was hoping to see as much of you as I can.  I’ll miss you _terribly_.  If I appear greedy for your company, it’s because I am.”  
  
James rolled his eyes.  _Clever, Cumberbatch.  Playing the I’ll-be-away trump card. Well done, you._  
  
Donna pursed her lips and thought for a moment. “Then we definitely need to get together before you leave.  Maybe breakfast Monday morning or an early lunch?”  
  
“Perfect,” said Benedict.  He grinned at James over Donna’s head as if he had won the lottery.  
  
“Did I just hear you say you’re doing a film, Ben?” asked Stephen Fry.  
  
“It’s an ITV drama series, based on Agatha Christie stories,” replied Benedict.  
  
“Which one are you doing?” asked Derren Brown.  
  
“ _Murder is Easy_.”  
  
“Oh I love Miss Marple! I’ve read all of Agatha Christies’ books! Which character are you playing?”  Donna asked excitedly.  
  
“Luke Fitzwilliam.  He’s a former police detective.”  
  
“I have a great idea!  I have to do a column on breakfasts next week, and I’ve got a place called the Duck and Waffle, that I’m scheduled to try.  This way you can help me review.”  She winked at him.  
  
“It’s a date.”  
  
Suddenly realization hit James Rhodes.  _Why am I getting my knickers in a twist?  He’ll be away for three weeks! Go ahead, Cumberbatch, feel free to  date her all week.  I’ll have her all to myself once you’re on location, Mate,_ he thought happily.  
  
Benedict Cumberbatch suddenly did not feel as cocky as he did when he noticed that James had returned his complete attention to his dessert as if nothing had happened.  It was the tranquil smile his friend wore that suddenly unnerved him.  
  
 _Why did he suddenly stop like that?_ thought Benedict. _Oh, fuck! He realizes that he doesn’t have to compete with me for Donna’s attention.  I’ll be gone three weeks, so he figures he can have her all to himself._  
  
  
  
   
  
The remainder of the dessert course had proceeded without any further drama. Donna made it a point to join in the other conversations around her as she had grown weary of James and Benedict’s competing for her attention.  Once Benedict had successfully made his dates with Donna, he finally turned his attention back to Heather.  He found that Heather could have cared less, as she was having a most enjoyable time chatting with Derren Brown, Stephen Fry and their partners.  Finding out that James’ best pal, Robert, was single had been an unexpected bonus.  Heather had pulled out all flirting stops and seemed to be making good progress towards getting a date.  
  
Benedict Cumberbatch and James Rhodes were feeling anxious as the evening came to an end.  Donna Saint James had the start of a headache.  She was actually glad when the time came for James’ manager to settle the bill.    
  
Everyone gathered outside the restaurant and said their farewells. Heather announced that she was sharing a cab with Robert.  Finally, only Benedict, James and Donna remained standing outside on the pavement.    
  
“I had a very interesting and fun evening,” Donna said to James.  “Thank you for inviting me.”  
  
“It was my absolute pleasure,” replied James with a dimpled smile.  “Let me get us a cab.”  
  
“Taxi!” bellowed Benedict, raising his hand to hail a cab.  
  
 _Oh no, you don’t, Cumberbatch!_   thought James testily.  _The lady’s riding with me and only me this time._  
  
A black cab rolled up to the curb.  James immediately opened the back door and indicated that Donna should get in.    
  
“There’s really no need for a cab,” said Donna.  “I’ll just take the tube.  You live in the opposite direction, James.  I don’t want you to go out of your way only to have to double back again.”  
  
“She’s right, Jimmy.  Why don’t you take the cab, and I’ll take the tube with Donna,” offered Benedict, moving towards Donna.  
  
James frowned.  “Um, you live off the freaking Northern Line.  How is that anywhere close to Blackfriars?”  
  
Donna patted Benedict’s arm.  “James is right.  You live the farthest away.  You should take the cab, Benedict.  I’ll take the tube.”    
  
“Do you want a cab or not?” asked the cabby in an irritated voice.  “I’m not going to sit here all bloody night whilst you bicker. Sort yourselves out for the love of Christ and make a decision before I leave you all here!”  
  
“My apologies, Sir.  We’ll only be a minute,” said James.  He turned to Donna. “It’s not a problem for me to escort you home, Donna.  I _want_ to do it,” said James.  “Besides you’re _my_ date tonight,” he added looking pointedly at Benedict.  
  
“There’s no need for you to feel _obligated_ , Jimmy,” said Benedict.  “It would be my pleasure to see Donna home safely.”  
  
Jimmy held up his hand.  “I’m obligated to make sure _my_ date gets home safely.”  
  
“It’s not a problem for me to relieve you of that obligation.”  
  
 _When did I become an obligation?_ wondered Donna. _These two need to chill out._  
  
“It’s not an obligation in the way that _you’re_ twisting it, Cumberbatch.”  
  
“Whoa hoa here! Gentlemen!  I’m perfectly capable of getting myself home safely,” said Donna with annoyance.  “I don’t need either of you to act as my escort.”  
  
James and Benedict paused to look at her as if she had grown two heads.  
  
 “We would feel better if one of us were with you on the tube. It’s too late to be taking the tube alone,” explained Benedict.  
  
“You’re _my_ date, and I _want_ to see you home safely,” added James.  “Ben’s right. It really isn’t wise to ride the tube alone this late.”  
  
“I’ve taken the tube alone much later than this," insisted Donna.  "There will be plenty of people on it.  Wait!  I have the best idea!  Why don’t you two share the cab?  You’re kind of going in the same direction.  James can be dropped off first and Benedict can continue on to Hampstead,” she suggested.  
  
Both men frowned and shook their heads.  
  
“We’ll all take the cab,” announced Benedict as he walked around to speak with the cabby. “The lady is going to the Riverwalk Terrace Flats, then my friend gets dropped off in Marylebone, near Regents Park; and I’m going to Hampstead, near Parliament Hill.”  
  
“I don’t think so,” said James angrily.  “You keep forgetting that Donna’s _my_ date tonight, so _I’ll_ be the one to escort her home, Cumberbatch. You can take the tube or another cab.”  
  
“What I suggested makes perfect sense,” scoffed Benedict as he walked back around the cab and approached James.  “Cabs aren’t easy to get this time of night. We’ll split the fare, if it makes _you_ happy.”  
  
“What would make _me_ happy is for you to get your own motherfucking cab.....”  
  
Donna stood on the sidewalk watching the two men bicker as if she weren’t there.    
  
 _I think I’ve had quite enough of this for one evening,_ thought Donna, as her head pounded from the tension. _They are stressing me to hell and back._  
  
Donna quickly climbed into the cab and pulled the door shut behind her, while Benedict and James continued their heated debate – totally oblivious to her actions.    
  
“Riverwalk Terrace Apartments, please,” she said to the cabby.  “It’ll be just me.”    
  
The cabby nodded, quickly pulled away and merged into the traffic.  
  
“Yes, Miss; and if you don’t mind my sayin’ bloody good choice!  I would have left them there, too.  They should be ashamed of themselves, two posh public school boys arguing like that over a lady. Jesus. Bet they went to Eton.”  
  
“Harrow,” replied Donna.  
  
“Jesus.  That’s even worse,” commented the cabby, shaking his head.  
  
Donna Saint James turned and looked out the back window as James Rhodes and Benedict Cumberbatch suddenly realized what had transpired.  She relished the looks of utter surprise on their faces as the cab drove away without them.  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Murder is Easy was actually done in 2008, but for the purposes of this story and universe, it’s being filmed in 2009 and I'm sending Benedict away for three weeks. 
> 
> 2\. Riverwalk Terrace is a totally fictional luxury apartment building, where Donna and her sister live.
> 
> 3\. We used to frequent a Chinese restaurant where the owner used to cover any spills with a clean napkin and would make quite a show of it. LOL!


	41. Chapter 41

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Donna meets her new neighbor. Benedict and James waffle the remainder of the night away. Realizations begin to surface.

  
  
Donna Saint James leaned her head back on the seat and closed her eyes as the cab made its way towards her apartment complex.  She could hear the text alert chime going off in her handbag.  It had to be Benedict and James sending messages.  Finally, after several minutes, she pulled out the cellphone with a sigh and looked at all the texts that had accumulated:  
  
 ** _I totally understand why you left.  Cumberbatch was acting like a total prat. J_**  
  
 ** _I hope you aren’t angry with me...it wasn’t my intent to upset you.  I only wanted to do the proper thing and escort you home.  B_**  
  
 ** _The burk is incapable of comprehending that you were my date tonight.  I’ve been trying to explain to him that I should have been the one to see that you got home safely.  J_**  
  
 ** _And BTW I never consider seeing my dates home safely as an obligation.  It’s something that I WANT to do.  J_**  
  
 ** _I felt I was doing Jimmy a favor by offering to take you in the cab.  He has to go across town and must have been totally knackered after the concert. What was so bad about that??  I was only concerned for his health and well-being. Does that make me an awful person???  B_**  
  
 ** _Can you believe he’s got the bollocks to tell me that I’m knackered and should go home to bed?  He’s doing me a favor by taking you home!  He knows I’ve got insomnia, so I’m not hitting the hay anytime soon.  I’m still so wired from the concert.  J_**  
  
 ** _Please call or text me when you get these messages.  I want to make sure you got home safely.  I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you.  B_**  
  
 ** _Text me that you’ve arrived home safely...I’m worried.  :^ ( >    Jxx_**

  
  
Donna shook her head and deleted the messages from her phone.  
  
 _I can’t even believe they’re still at it and texting me the blow-by-blow._  
  
She quickly typed a text to James:  
  
 _Cab pulling up to the complex.  See you tomorrow night.  D_  
  
Next was a text to Benedict:  
  
 _Home safe and sound. See you Thursday.  D_

  
  
  
Donna paid and tipped the cabby.  She entered the lobby of her building and found one of the two elevators already on the ground floor.  She quickly got inside and pressed the button marked 12 for her floor and waited for the door to slide closed.    
  
 _I’m sure glad tonight is over!  I think I’ll take a nice bubble bath and go to bed.  With my luck, I’ll probably have nightmares about them wrestling in a vat of fried rice!_  
  
“Oh, Miss! Wait! Could you please hold the lift for me?” called out a man’s Irish-accented voice.  “I’m almost there!  Just another minute!”   
  
Donna saw a large cardboard box with denim-clad legs and black canvas trainers coming towards the elevator at record speed.  Whoever it was, seemed to be having trouble seeing over the box, causing it to sway alarmingly from side-to-side.   
  
“There’s no need to run, I’m holding it!” she called out to the stranger.  
  
The box entered the elevator and the owner dropped it on the floor with a grunt.  Donna found herself looking into a pair of large long-lashed, dark chocolate brown eyes. These deep-set eyes were framed by thin, almost straight eyebrows.  Donna was mesmerized by these expressive eyes, which strangely reminded her of a puppy.  The owner was a young man with straight, dark brown hair that had been combed off his face.  Now, it was hanging in limp strands, which he pushed back off his high forehead.  An old, faded black T-shirt over well-worn jeans covered a slender body. His arms were nicely-muscled as if he worked out.    
  
The man rubbed his lower back and leaned against the wall as he caught his breath.  His handsome face was covered with stubble – whether it was a fashion statement or he hadn’t bothered to shave, Donna had no idea.    
  
“Bless you!  This was my last trip, and I couldn’t bear to lose the momentum,” he smiled at her gratefully.  “Otherwise I fear I would have collapsed in the lobby and just stayed put for the night.”  
  
“I’m sure Ralph would have helped you,” said Donna.  “He’s the best doorman!”  
  
“Oh, absolutely.  He was indispensable all day, but I think he’s gone home now.  There was someone else I didn’t recognize, and I didn’t want to be a bother.”  
  
“That was Tom.  He’s the night doorman. Which floor do you want?” asked Donna.  
  
“Twelve, please.”  
  
“Good choice because that’s where we’re headed.”  
  
“Oh, so you must be one of my neighbors then!  I’m Andrew Scott.  Twelve B.  I just moved in today,” he said offering his hand to her after wiping it on his jeans.  “I’m a bit dusty from lugging around boxes all day, I’m afraid.”  He blushed.   
  
Isn’t he a cutie? There’s something very boyish about him, and I just love his accent.   
  
“Donna Saint James.  Twelve C,” said Donna.  “Nice to meet you, Andrew.”    
  
  
  
  
Donna Saint James and Andrew Scott rode the lift to the twelfth floor in companionable silence, except for the sound of Donna’s text chime repeatedly sounding.  Andrew glanced furtively at her handbag a couple of times, silently willing the text chimes to stop.  
  
 _Well, I guess she’s not about to answer that anytime soon.  She’s certainly popular, but doesn’t look all that pleased about it.  I wish she’d put the frigging thing on silent mode. I can’t even hear the lift muzak._   
  
_I wish they’d stop with the texts already!  They just don’t give up!_   
  
Donna shifted uncomfortably from foot-to-foot.  Her new neighbor was trying not to study her too closely in the corner security mirror, but failing. Their eyes met and Andrew quickly averted his eyes.   
  
_He keeps watching me through the mirror. I wonder why?_  
  
 _Fuck!  She caught me looking at her.  I need to start a conversation. We’re neighbors after all.  Let’s see if she can take a hint.  I’ll aim for being subtle._  
  
“Someone seems to be trying to reach you in the worst way,” Andrew commented with a half-smile. “I hope it’s nothing important.”  
  
“Unfortunately, it’s no one I care to be reached by,” said Donna wearily.    
  
 _It’s got to be Benedict.  He should only have the same stamina in bed that he does when texting...Damn him!_  
  
“Why don’t you just do what I do and turn the damn thing off!” laughed Andrew, hoping that Donna would take the hint.  “That way no one can bother you.  It’s quite liberating actually,”  he added.  
  
Donna grimaced ever-so-slightly and ignored the comment.   
  
_Okay, Andrew, time to shut your mouth.  She doesn’t find it funny. Study the nice ceiling tiles._  
  
Andrew noticed that the lift had stopped twice on the way up with the door sliding open each time to reveal no one.  
  
“Does this happen often?”  he asked with a touch of concern.  
  
“Sometimes people hit “up” when they really want to go “down” and vice-versa.  Think of it as getting the local tonight.”   
  
Donna pulled out her cellphone and glanced at the text messages.  They were all from James and Benedict.  The most recent one said:  
  
 _You’re not really angry with me, are you? : -(    B_  
  
Donna could visualize his face.  He’d be giving her his sad eyes and his cute retrousse nose would be crinkled up. Those glorious cupid’s bow lips would be in full pout. She huffed and turned off the cellphone.  
  
 _Fuck you, Benedict!  That’s my problem!  Always fucking Benedict on my mind.....always wanting to fuck Benedict is another problem...make that a distraction._

  
  
The next several texts were from James, pleading his case in a variety of ways:  
  
 _I **f we can all meet up tomorrow morning, we’ll explain everything.  How about coffee with Ben and me?  J**_  
  
 ** _I take that’s a no. Can we tempt you with an offer of breakfast, too? J_**  
  
 ** _How about coffee and/or breakfast with just me?  J_**  
  
 ** _‘Looks at photo of you pleadingly.’  J_**  
  
 ** _I really hope you’re not holding out for coffee with just Ben...my ego is very fragile right now.  J_**  
  
 ** _I promise you can have all the cake you can eat.  ;^) >  LOL   J_**  
  
 ** _Not funny?  J_**  
  
 ** _‘Shoots self in foot.’  :^0 >   Jx_**

  
  
This was followed by a barrage of texts from Benedict:  
  
 ** _Can I call you now? B_**  
  
 ** _If not, I really do understand; and it’s okay.  B_**  
  
 ** _I guess you didn’t like the idea of meeting for coffee or breakfast with us tomorrow.  B_**  
  
 ** _We can meet somewhere (without Jimmy) – where ever you’d like.  B_**  
  
 ** _I promise not to tell him.  B_**  
  
 ** _Jimmy and I are on our way back to his flat to talk things out.  We think you should know this.  Cheers.  B_**  
  
 ** _We acted like total dicks and are very sorry.  We hope you won’t hold it against us...it’s just that we both have grown very fond of you.  B_**  
  
 _ **I’m particularly fond of you, more than he is.  B** _

  
  
Finally, Donna had had enough.  She switched off her phone and dropped it into her handbag.  
  
 _Ah!_ thought Andrew.  _I was sorely tempted to take the bloody thing from her and stomp on it._   
  
“You’re right, Andrew.  What I don’t read, won’t continue to bother me.”  
  
“I promise that you’ll thank me for this in the morning.  Now, you can sleep with a clear head and read those messages with a fresh perspective tomorrow,” said Andrew.    
  
“Or after reading them, I might just decide to toss the damn thing into the Thames.”  
  
“Now, that’s a bit drastic,” laughed Andrew.  “Mobile phones are expensive to replace.”  
  
Donna smiled thinly at him.  “Sometimes drastic measures are called for when one is sufficiently aggravated.”  
  
Andrew nodded. Note _to self:  She’s a tough one.  Don’t piss her off._  
  
“So, have you lived here long then?” asked Andrew in an attempt to make small talk.  
  
Silence.  
  
 _Okay.  She seems preoccupied.  Maybe another day she’ll want to chat._  
  
 _I just wish everyone would live me alone! I know he means well, but I just don’t feel like talking anymore tonight_  
  
Donna could feel the tears welling up inside.  She sniffed in an effort to curtail them.  
  
 _Please just let me make it to my apartment without crying.  I don’t want my new neighbor to see me at my worst._  
  
“Around six months or so,” replied Donna in a slightly shaky voice. “I’m subletting for a year.”  
  
“It’s a beautiful building.  I have to pinch myself as a reminder that I’m really living here.  The views are amazing – even from the loo.  I can sit in the soaking tub and look out at Saint Paul’s,” raved Andrew.   
  
Donna swallowed hard as the elevator finally came to a stop at their floor.  “Yeah, and the amenities are well worth it,” she sniffed.  
  
Andrew noticed that her hazel eyes were threatening to spill tears.   
  
_Oh no.  Sounds and looks like she’s going to cry. I hope it wasn’t something I did or said.  It must be whatever’s going on with those bloody text messages. My guess is a rocky romance._  
  
“Are you okay, Donna?” Andrew asked gently as the lift door slid open.   He bent over and picked up the large box.  “You look a bit upset if you don’t mind my sayin’.”  
  
Donna shook her head that nothing was wrong as she held the door open for him to get through with the box.  Andrew looked at her hesitantly.  
  
“If you’re sure then. I’m right here if you need anything...to talk. I stay up pretty late.” Andrew passed her and walked to his flat, which was the first one off the lift. “Well, thanks for holding the lift for me; and it was nice meeting you, Donna.”  
  
As Andrew tried to balance the box on his hip while attempting to remove his keycard from the front pocket of his jeans, Donna’s voice blurted out from behind, startling him.  
  
“No!  I’m not okay!”   
  
Andrew dropped the box on the floor and turned around to find Donna standing directly behind him, tears streaming down her face.  
  
“You just scared the ever lovin’ crap out of me, Donna!”  
  
“I’m sorry.  I just had the one of the worst dates of my life!”  
  
“Holy shit, Darlin’!  We can’t have you standing out here crying your eyes out!”  He quickly unlocked the door to his flat and motioned for Donna to follow him inside.  “Come in and let me make you a cuppa.  Then you can tell me what happened.”  
  
“Oh, no! I couldn’t impose on you. We only just met...”  
  
“Of course you can.  Isn’t that what neighbors are for?  I insist,” Andrew pushed the door open and said to her over his shoulder, “Just promise me you won’t mind the mess.”     
  
Donna entered the apartment, as Andrew placed the box near the open kitchen.  She closed the door behind her and rummaged around in her handbag for a packet of Kleenex.  
  
 _Damn!  I think I used up all my Kleenex at the restaurant._   
  
Andrew watched her digging around in her bag for tissues with great amusement.   
  
_I don’t know how in the hell she can find anything in that bag – it’s like a valise. It’ll be easier for me to find my tissues.  I know I packed them._  
  
Andrew held up a box of tissues that he had quickly extracted from one of the many boxes that littered the floor of the living room.  It was marked “LOO” in  neatly printed block lettering.    
  
“I knew they were here somewhere!” Andrew said triumphantly as he offered the box to a still sobbing Donna. “Lucky for us that I do have seating in the kitchen.”  
  
Donna took a tissue, wiped her tears and blew her nose.  “Thank you,” she said in-between sobs as she gazed around the apartment.   
  
“Think of the decor as early cardboard for now,” Andrew said in a teasing tone of voice.  “Tomorrow the furniture gets delivered and then it’ll look like an IKEA showroom.  In the meantime, these high chairs came with the place.  Have a seat, and I’ll make us that cuppa.”  
  
Donna walked over to the breakfast bar and sat on one of the tall padded chairs.  The layout of Andrew’s apartment was exactly the same as hers, only his view was of Saint Paul’s and the surrounding city.  She blew her nose again and blotted her eyes.    
  
“Gosh, what an awful first impression I’ve made!  I’m so sorry for the meltdown. I just realized my message chimes must have been driving you mad. I should have put it on vibrate.  I apologize for being inconsiderate.  I never do things like this, Andrew.”  
  
“It’s all fine.  Really. There’s no need for an apology,” Andrew said soothingly as he filled an induction kettle with water and turned it on.  “Maybe one day I’ll be the one sat in _your_ flat, crying _my_ eyes out.”  He  extracted two new Styrofoam cups from a plastic bag that was lying on the counter. “I haven’t had a chance to unpack the dishes yet. I hope paper is okay.”  
  
“Oh, yes.  I feel bad for keeping you from unpacking.”  
  
“Don’t. I’ve been at it since six, so I assure you I’m more than done for the day,” said Andrew as he picked up a tin of tea leaves from the counter.  “Is English Breakfast alright?”  
  
“Yes, it’s one of my favorites.”  
  
“Good.  That’s all I have right now!” he laughed.  “I haven’t gotten around to restocking the pantry yet.”  
  
Andrew filled two tea balls with the loose leaves and put the tin in one of the cabinets.  He removed a box of whole wheat crackers from a cardboard box on the counter, which apparently contained some food.  
  
He opened the box and offered it to Donna, who politely declined.  Andrew stuffed one in his mouth.  “Forgive my lack of manners, but I’m famished.”  
  
She watched as he went to the refrigerator and returned with a small carton of milk and a block of cheddar cheese, which he proceeded to cut into wedges.  Then he moved a paper plate of fresh fruit in front of them and waved his hand over the spread.  
  
“There! That’s everything I’ve got for now. I haven’t eaten since lunch, so I’m going to dig in.  Please have a little something,” he said, taking a banana. "I hate eating alone."  
  
“Thank you,” said Donna as she took two crackers and a wedge of the cheese.  
  
“I was hoping that little sandwich shop in the square was open late, but they close early.  Have you been there?”  
  
“Paul’s?”  
  
“No.  I can’t recall the name.  It’s diagonally across from Paul.  It’s a catering place, but they sell brilliant sandwiches.  Lace curtains framing the window and the biscuits and puddings are displayed on fancy china pedestal plates.”  
  
Donna smiled. “Carldonn Creative Catering.  My sister and I own it.  We usually close around 3 or 4 – as soon as the food runs out.  I’m glad you like it.  I know my sister will be happy to hear.”  
  
Donna noticed that Andrew wasn’t wearing a wedding ring.  There weren’t any personal affects scattered about the apartment as of yet.  She watched as he finished brewing the tea and chattered incessantly about what a great area it was.   
  
_He certainly is cute, and I love his accent.  Definitely works out from the look of his arms and shoulders. Nice, tight jeans; but not a lot of butt.  I wonder if he’s single? He can’t have any kids as this is just a one bedroom apartment._  
  
“....I keep thinking wouldn’t it be fantastic to land a job at the National – then I could literally walk back and forth to work across the Millenium Bridge!”  
  
“What do you do, Andrew?”  
  
“I’m an actor,” he said, placing a cup of tea in front of her.  He came around the counter to sit beside her on one of the chairs.  “So, what happened tonight that got you so upset?”  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Across town in a newly-renovated fourth floor flat in Marylebone, which boasted a gorgeous view of Regents Park, Benedict Cumberbatch and James Rhodes sat side-by-side on an old tartan plaid sofa.  Their stocking feet were resting on the coffee table, as they sipped from shot glasses of Glenfiddich whiskey.  James was smoking his second cigarette since they had arrived.   
  
“You could use a new couch,” remarked Benedict as he shifted in hopes of finding a more comfortable spot.  “The springs in this motherfucker are shot.”  
  
James laughed and indicated where he was sitting.  “I don’t notice it as much because I always sit in the same spot.  However, you’re right; and I’ve made plans to go furniture shopping next week. I promise that a replacement sofa will be high on my list.  Anything to ensure the comfort of your bum when visiting.”  
  
Benedict glanced at him sideways. “Who are you going with?  Your mum?  Sister?”  
  
James smiled slyly at his friend. “You just want to know if I’ve invited Donna to go with me.”  
  
“Have you?”  
  
“No.  Actually, Hattie’s coming along to help me with the decorating. That’s what took me so long to come back to the table.  I was in – negotiations.”  
  
Benedict let out the breath he had been holding in relief, as James took a final drag and snuffed out his cigarette butt in an ashtray on the end table beside him.   
  
_Excellent!  Just what I’ve been hoping for.  More Hattie, less Donna is his life equals good for me._  
  
“We shouldn’t be negotiating our way out of tough spots with women at our age,” smirked Benedict.  “It brings me back to my Uni days at Manchester when Olivia and I first got together – and _not_ in a good way.”  
  
“Perhaps negotiating wasn’t the proper word,” mused James, staring up at the ceiling.  “It was more akin to....”  
  
“...unashamedly begging for forgiveness because you behaved like a complete knob and don’t want to end the relationship,” finished Benedict with a bitter laugh.  “Your sorry arse got tripped up in your open dating shit.”  
  
James looked at his friend and nodded as he burst out laughing.  “Yeah.  I’d say that pretty much summed up what happened.  I can be sodding pathetic when it comes to relationships with the opposite sex.”  
  
“Make that: we’re pathetic,” corrected Benedict, as he knocked back the remainder of the whiskey and smacked his lips.    
  
“I don’t think we’re actually pathetic.  We’ve both had successful relationships in the past, Ben.  I think we’re just used to being in long-term ones.”  
  
“True.  You were married for quite awhile, and I was with Liv so long that it might as well have been a marriage – the two short....erm.... breaks notwithstanding.”  
  
James pondered Benedict’s words.  “We were content in our comfort zones, and it takes time to build up a new relationship to that point.  We’re also fairly impatient men, so it isn’t easy for either of us.”  
  
“We expect – we want – too much, too soon out of our relationships,” observed Benedict as he rubbed his index finger over his upper lip.  
  
“I think it’s that we just don’t enjoy the dating game. We want to move past all the ritual bullshit as soon as possible.”  
  
Both men sat in silence for a few minutes to consider James’ words.  
  
“You were with Anna for almost a year, Ben.  That certainly counts as awhile.”  
  
“Yeah, I suppose it does; but technically _‘we’_ were in a relationship for six months. _‘She’_ was in it alone the rest of the time, sad to say. I wasn’t even trying to make it work at that point.”  
  
“Perhaps if you had put more effort into it when things started to turn sour, it would have gone somewhere,” James mused quietly.  “I liked Anna alot.  She was good for you.”   
  
“Shit, I wish you'd stop trying to pacify me with what-could-have-been. That was a relationship going nowhere,” Benedict commented with a soft sigh. “Everyone saw it but me.”  
  
James picked up a pack of cigarettes from the coffee table and offered one to Benedict, who declined with a wave of his hand.  
  
“Actually, you and Anna were a classic rebound relationship,” pointed out James as he lit up and inhaled a lung full of smoke.  “And I think deep down inside you knew from the start it wasn’t going to work for the long haul.  She, on the other hand, thought she could make you forget Olivia.  I believe Anna did love you.”  
  
Benedict laughed sardonically.  “I hated being out there dating again. I just wanted the security of being in a relationship. We both tried so hard to make it work at first, but it was useless.  What was worse was that Anna knew it,  but kept up the pretense even though she soon realized I wasn’t really in love with her.  I was in love with the idea of being in love.  I shan’t make that mistake again.”  
  
“So.  Here we sit.  You and me – now in our thirties – still discussing the perils of dating and pratfalls of relationships.  I feel like we’re catching up on a break from Uni.  Christ, has it been that long?”  
  
“Yeah, it has,” replied Benedict, crossing one ankle over the other. “The funny thing is that as one gets older, it should get easier because we’ve already done it before.  We’re experienced men – not schoolboys who are dating novices. Shit! Dating should be like riding a bike.  When you get back on after not riding for awhile, everything falls into place. Why I was thinking the other day while walking on the Heath – have you been there recently? All the flowers are in bloom....”  
  
“Ben.”  
  
“Hmmmm?”  
  
“Shut the fuck up.  You’re starting to waffle.”  
  
The whistling of the teakettle sounded from James’ kitchen.   
  
“Ah, kettle’s boiled,” said James as he got to his feet and padded to the modern galley-style kitchen to prepare the tea. “Your choices are Early Grey, Earl Grey or Earl Grey,”  he called out to Benedict.  “Sorry, but there’s no decaf allowed in this flat.  My lifestyle is very unhealthy – it’s filled with white sugar, tobacco and caffeine.”  
  
“Errrm...I think I’ll go with the Earl Grey,” yawned Benedict as he rubbed his forehead.  “So, why am I here again? Those two shots of whiskey are starting to go to my head.”  
  
“Because the cabby told you Regents Park was the end of the line for you, and the tube’s stopped running. By the way, you're welcome to sleep here if you don't want to take the night bus back to Hampstead.”  
  
Benedict nodded slowly and began to laugh. “Can you believe the wanker refused to take me to Hampstead?”  
  
“After all the bickering we were doing in his cab?  Ben, we were arguing nonstop over the texts we were each sending to Donna. I wouldn’t have wanted to take you to Hampstead either.”  
  
Benedict sighed. “I suppose we’re lucky he took us here. I was afraid he was going to drop us off in one of the not-so-fine areas of London and bid us a jolly good night and good luck.”  
  
James returned to the lounge with a tin of dark chocolate and caramel-covered biscuits and placed it on the coffee table, “In case you’re feeling peckish.”  
  
Benedict rose from the couch, stretched and followed James back into the kitchen.  He leaned against the cabinets, arms folded across his chest.   
  
“I now recall it was my suggestion to come up so we could sort things out....especially after the cabby refused to take me home.”  
  
“He was probably afraid you were going to talk to him all the way to Hampstead. I thought the real reason you wanted to come up was because I happen to make a brilliant cup of tea.” teased James.   
  
“That, too,” grinned Benedict. "I also think I'll take you up on your offer to sleep over. I'm too knackered to take the bus."

James set out cream and white sugar on the countertop.   
  
“Man, do you realize that I’ve now used my psych degree several times tonight?  My folks would be very proud to know it isn’t going to waste,” chuckled James. “Sometimes I fancy myself as a shrink, but I’d much rather play piano for a living.  However, by playing shrink with you, it enables me to have the best of both worlds.”  
  
“I’m always glad to be of service,” smirked Benedict. “Exactly how are _you_ feeling after tonight’s performance, Dr. Rhodes? And I’m referring to the one that took place _after_ the concert.”  
  
James checked the timer for the tea and sighed.  “Like a complete arse. Particularly when Donna got into the cab and left us arguing on the pavement. You?”  
  
“Pretty much the same.  It was as if I were having an out-of-body experience.  I was watching myself do and say things I normally wouldn’t have. I kept hearing your voice in my head, dispensing all that dating advice; and I was determined to follow it and monopolize as much of Donna’s time as I could.”  
  
James nodded his head and stroked his beard.  “I also knew I was saying things that I shouldn’t – make that wouldn’t have under normal circumstances -  but it was as if I were possessed by this evil twin who had to get one up on you...I had this weird compulsion to take my own advice.”  
  
“All for the affections of a woman,” mused Benedict.  
  
“A lovely woman,” added James with a smile.   
  
“An _extraordinary_ woman,” corrected Benedict wistfully.  
  
“Whom we are both interested in,” finished James sighing heavily.  
  
The tea timer rang and James decanted the tea into mugs, one of which he handed to Benedict, who helped himself to milk and sugar.  Benedict took a sip of tea and smacked his lips.  
  
“You may not be able to cook, but you do make the perfect cuppa.”  
  
James rolled his eyes as they returned to the lounge and plopped down on the couch.  “Oh, come now!  It’s not that hard to make a decent cup of tea.”  
  
Benedict started to laugh.  “I take it Donna hasn’t made you tea yet?”   
  
“Why? No good?”  
  
Benedict shuddered at the memory of Donna’s Earl Grey tea.  
  
“It was bloody awful – the worst cuppa I’ve ever had, bless her!  Cold teapot, bagged tea, brewed for maybe thirty seconds – and to think she’s a fucking food critic for Christ’s sake!  Her palate should be able to distinguish properly brewed tea.”   
  
The two man laughed heartily as Benedict did a perfect imitation of Donna making the tea.    
  
“Bloody hell.  I have to remember to ask for coffee if I’m ever in that situation then,” giggled James. “As you were, mate.”  
  
“How are we going to handle this problem, Jimmy?”  
  
James sipped some tea and pursed his lips.  “I’m going to be completely honest with you, Ben.”  
  
“I would expect nothing less,” said Benedict, nibbling on a biscuit.   
  
“I’ve always liked the concept of open dating – which you have made plain several times tonight that you do not.  I always found it a great way to make comparisons between different women and help me decide if there was one person that I wanted to focus on.”  
  
Benedict rubbed the back of his neck.  “You accuse me of waffling? You’re beating around the bush. Do you intend to pursue Donna or not?”  
  
James looked taken aback by Benedict’s blunt question.  “It’s not that simple, Ben.”  
  
Benedict shrugged and rolled his eyes. “I don’t understand what isn’t simple.  Either you’re interested in her or you’re not.”  
  
“As you’ve found out, I’ve been seeing both Donna and Hattie.  Actually, I’ve been seeing Hattie a lot longer.  We had started out as friends.  Being musicians, we have so much in common; and something just clicked and romantic feelings began to develop. Then I met Donna in the Steinway store, and I felt something click again.  I want to explore my relationship with Donna to see if there’s more to it than simple friendship.  There’s nothing wrong with that, Ben.”  
  
“You can’t have your cake and eat it, too,” scoffed Benedict.  “It’s not fair to them, and it’s not fair to me.  I have developed very intense, very deep feelings for Donna...”  
  
James narrowed his eyes as he stared at Benedict over the rim of the mug. “Are you in love with her?”  
  
“I think so.  All the right feelings are there.  I just don’t want to rush it,” replied Benedict.  “And I’m also pretty confident that she feels the same way about me.”  
  
James sat still, sipping his tea, while taking in all his friend was telling him.  
  
 _I fear he may be right.  I saw the way they look at each other, and the way they interact. It’s almost as if they already were a couple.  It reminds me of the way I act with Hattie sometimes.  I wonder if Ben’s taken things to the next level?_  
  
“Have you slept with her?”  
  
“That’s none of your business,” snapped Benedict, tucking a foot underneath him.    
  
James looked taken aback at his friend’s abrupt response.  “There’s no need to be so damn stropy.  It’s not like we’ve _never_ discussed our sex lives before. I’ll take that as your vow remains intact then.”  
  
Benedict sat scowling on the couch, sipping his tea.  He didn’t say a word.   
  
 James sighed, shook his head and smiled slightly.   
  
“If it means anything to you, I haven’t been intimate with her either.”  
  
Benedict smiled inside.  _I knew it.  I’m the one Donna wants, and he’s leaning towards Hattie.  He needs to sort it out in his own mind to his satisfaction before he’ll admit it._   
  
“I’m honestly torn, Ben.  I fancy both of them.  However, with that said, I’m pretty sure that Hattie would win hands down, should I be forced to make a choice,” said James.  “Are you going to force me to make that choice?”  
  
“Nope.  I think we both need to step back and let Donna decide which of us she fancies.  You already know how I feel.  I think your problem is that you’re favoring Hattie, but want to make sure she’s the one before relegating Donna to ‘friend’ category.”  
  
James sighed and shook his head.  “I don’t recall your taking a psych course at Manchester.”  
  
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.  I took two psych courses,” said Benedict proudly. “Jimmy, you’re up to your neck in this open dating shit and don’t know how to get out gracefully.  That’s why I think you should try and see as much of Donna as you can – without being overbearing - while I’m away on location. This way you’ll know what your feelings towards her really are.”  
  
James dropped the biscuit he was holding into his tea.  “Really?”  
  
“Yeah.  You need to sort your feelings out as much as Donna needs to sort hers.  I won’t be around to be a distraction.”  
  
“Interesting idea, Cumberbatch,” said James pensively, as he fished the biscuit out of his mug.  “I need to take it easy though.  We completely overwhelmed her tonight.”  
  
“That we did.  She must hate us both after our performance in the cab and restaurant.”  
  
“Hate’s a strong word, Ben.  I prefer to think that she considers us annoying pricks at this point.”  
  
“Annoying pricks says it all,” commented Benedict as he ate a biscuit and licked the chocolate off his long, slender fingers.  “I know one thing for certain.  I don’t want this to come between us – our friendship is very important to me.”  
  
“Agreed,” said James.  “As long as we keep things in the proper perspective and not smother her.  This bloody competition of ours is ridiculous.  I need to do some serious thinking while you’re gone, Ben.”  
  
“I’m confident that everything will work out for the best for both of us. We’ll probably look back at this night in years to come and laugh our asses off,” said Benedict, as he raised his mug to James.  
  
“To our friendship and the end of the competition.”  
  
 _You don’t realize it, Jimmy; but Hattie’s in love with you, and you’re starting to feel the same way.  You just enjoy playing the game with me._  
  
James clicked his mug against Benedict’s.  
  
“To friendship, love and finding our life partners.”  
  
 _You’ve got it bad, Ben; and I’m quite sure on some subconscious level Donna Saint James has already chosen you...the same way I know deep down inside that I’ve probably already chosen Hattie._   
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Andrew Scott has been added at the request of my daughter. Hope you like the way I wrote him! <3  
> 2\. Andrew Scott’s personality is based on what I’ve read/seen in interviews. The rest of it is a figment of my overactive imagination.  
> 3\. Benedict seems to have dated Anna Jones in the late 2011 time frame, but I’m moving it back to late 2008/early 2009 to fit my universe’s timeline.


	42. Chapter 42

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Andrew gives advice and is grilled by Donna. The night ends with Donna and Benedict finding themselves on the brink of a change in their relationship after a very waffling and steamy Skype call.

  
  
Donna Saint James finished her tea.  “You really make a good cup of tea, Andrew.”  
  
“Would you care for some more, Darlin’?”  
  
“No.  I have to get some sleep tonight.”  
  
“I hope you feel better now that you’ve gotten it all off your chest.”  
  
“I do, and I appreciate your listening, Andrew.  I’ve noticed that you’ve been very careful not to make any comments though.”  
  
“That’s right.  I only make comments upon request.  It keeps me out of trouble that way,” Andrew winked and smiled at her.  “Are you formally asking for my opinion then?”  
  
“I sure am.”  
  
Andrew stretched and moved his shoulders around.  
  
“Even if it’s not what you want to hear?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.  
  
“Especially that.”  
  
“Well....they both sound like right bastards.  I’d probably tell them both to go fuck themselves. There’s nothing worse than two friends competing for the affections of the same person. It can get too messy and destroy the friendship.  I’ve even seen where the new relationship suffers strain because of it.”  
  
Donna looked aghast and began to laugh.  “You certainly don’t believe in sugar-coating it, do you?”  
  
“And why should I?”  Andrew exclaimed.  “They treated you terribly, Love.  You’re not a toy to be argued over.  I fucking loved that you took the cab home and left them to sort things out. I truly applaud that.”  He clapped his hands to make his point.  
  
Donna giggled. “I wish I had thought to snap a photo of their faces.  It was priceless.”  
  
“Well, shame on them.  They need to mind their manners when it comes to treating a lady properly.”  
  
“They both went to Harrow,” commented Donna dryly .  “I guess dating isn’t covered in their curriculum.”  
  
Andrew’s eyes widened.  “Holy Mary!  They’re public school boys then?  Well, they certainly should know how to act.”   
  
“Why does everyone have a reaction like that?  Its just a fancy college prep school as far as I can understand.”  
  
“I’m from Dublin, so it’s hard for me to explain.  It’s more a cultural or class thing.  Posh versus non-posh.  Most of the boys who go to Harrow or Eton come from posh or well-off backgrounds.  They have money and privilege and often go on to have successful careers in law, medicine, politics or finance.  They tend to get teased alot.  I’m afraid I’m not explaining it very well.  I think you’ll understand it better once you’ve lived here awhile among the English.”  
  
“No, you’re doing a fine job of explaining,” said Donna.  “My dad’s half English, so I’ve heard a bit about the public schools and class issues from him and my grandparents over the years.”  
  
“Can I ask what profession these blokes are in?”  
  
“One’s an actor and the other’s a concert pianist.”  
  
Andrew nodded.  “Can I ask their names?”  
  
Donna frowned.  “I don’t think so...”  
  
“I won’t say a word, Darlin,” said Andrew as he touched her forearm to encourage her.  “I was just wondering if I knew them.  We entertainers often travel in the same circles.”  
  
Donna considered his words for a moment.  _What are the odds that he would actually know them?_  
  
“The pianist’s name is James Rhodes.  He plays classical pieces.”  
  
Andrew thought for a minute and shook his head.  “Never heard of him. I’m more of a rock n’ roll guy.”  
  
“I bet you’ve never heard of the actor, either.  His name is Benedict Cumberbatch.”  
  
“Benedict!” Andrew’s face broke out into a wide grin.  “I know Ben.  He’s such a lovely and sweet man.  We met when he came backstage to compliment me on a show I was doing in the West End.  Ben’s done alot of brilliant theatre work and is an absolute joy to watch.  He was also fantastic in _Hawking_.  Ben’s a very talented actor, and I think he’ll go far.”  
  
 _Oh, oh.  Why did you tell him the names?  Who would have thought he’d know Benedict?  There are so many actors out there.  I wonder if they’ve worked together and are close friends?_  
  
“Have you ever worked together?”  
  
“Not yet!  However, I’m happy to say that we’re about to.  I just can’t tell you anything about my role, as I’ve been sworn to secrecy by the writers and producers.”  
  
“You’re going to be in _Murder is Easy_?”  
  
“Unfortunately, no.”   
  
“You’re playing the brother in the Van Gogh movie?  Let’s see....It’s called _Van Gogh:  Painted With Words_.”  
  
“I wish!”   
  
“Oh, wait!  I know – you’re in _Burlesque Fairytales_?”  
  
“That’s already in rehearsals.  All I’m doing for the next week is pulling this place together.”  
  
“This is making me crazy!”  
  
“How do you think _I_ feel?  I’m the one who can’t talk about it!” Andrew spread his hands and exclaimed in exasperation.  
  
“Did they make you sign an NDA?”  
  
“Of sorts.”  
  
“You’re infuriating, Mr. Scott!”  
  
“I do try my best,” he giggled mischievously.  “I’d love to tell you if I could, but I really can’t.”   
  
Donna bit her lip and thought about all the projects Benedict told her about.  
  
“Ah!  I know!  You’re in that play -  _The Turning Point_!”  
  
“The two-character play about Winston Churchill and Guy Burgess?  I auditioned for the part of Guy Burgess, but they offered it to Ben.”  
  
“You’re playing the part of Winston Churchill?”  
  
Andrew pulled a face and gestured to himself.  
  
“Not all the makeup and prosthetics in the world could turn me into Winston, I’m afraid,” he snickered.  “I don’t mean to be so mysterious, but you’re just going to have to wait and find out.”  
  
“Benedict will tell me,” teased Donna.  
  
Andrew pondered her words for a minute and shook his head.    
  
“Oh, I don’t know about that, Donna," he said seriously.  "He’s not supposed to say anything about it either. If there’s one thing I know about Benedict Cumberbatch -  it’s that he’s a consummate professional.  If it’s top secret, he won’t utter a word. He would never let the producers down.”  
  
 _I’m sure that’s probably true, but I know something about Benedict that you don’t.  He has overly-sensitive hair follicles.  I bet I could get him to tell me anything._  
  
“I haven’t even told my own family,” continued Andrew. “Can you imagine how hard it is not being able to tell your loved ones something that you’re just bursting to tell them?”  
  
Donna looked out at the night sky and thought.  Then it hit her.  The one project Benedict seemed to be the most excited about.   
  
“Of course - It's so obvious!  I should have realized it straight off the bat. It’s _Sherlock_!!!!  You’re going to be in _Sherlock_!  I know there’s alot of hype and secrecy surrounding it from what I’ve read.  I bet you’re going to be Watson!”  Her eyes flashed with growing excitement.  
  
Andrew ate a wedge of cheese and shook his head.  “Sorry, Darlin’ can’t tell you a thing.”    
  
“It’s _got_ to be Watson.  Benedict is playing Sherlock, so Watson makes perfect sense.”  
  
“Believe whatever you’d like, but there are other roles in the show besides Watson.”  
  
Donna frowned.  
  
“It has to be Watson!” she exclaimed. “You’d be a perfect Watson.  I could see you and Benedict together, sitting in Baker Street and solving crimes."  
  
“Okay then.  If that’s what you choose to believe - Watson it is.”  
  
Donna slapped her palm on the countertop with glee. “I knew it!”  
  
Andrew wagged a finger at her. “You know _nothing_.  I didn’t confirm whether I was or wasn’t.  I didn’t even confirm that I’m actually _in_ the show.”  
  
Donna pouted slightly. “You’re really not going to tell me, are you?”  
  
“No.  I’m not,” laughed Andrew as he ate some more cheese on a cracker. “Now, _seriously_. Please stop asking me – I’m never going to tell you.”  
  
“Okay.  I give up,” said Donna, raising her hands in mock surrender.    
  
“You know, you’d make a good Sherlock yourself, Donna.  You remind me of a barrister actually....”  
  
 _Yikes!  You need to watch what you say, Donna.  He thinks you’re being too nosy.  I need to stop being a pest._   
  
Donna smiled. “My mother’s a lawyer, so I tend to question like she does.  I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”  
  
“Oh, I’m not uncomfortable in the slightest.  This has actually been kind of fun.  It’s good practice for dealing with the press.”  
  
 _Why do I think that was not meant as a compliment?_  
  
 _Time to turn the tables, Andrew.  She’s asked enough questions for one night._  
  
“I know you’re a caterer, but I have a feeling that’s not all you do,” said Andrew, peeling a banana.  “Now, tell me the truth:  Are you a solicitor or a barrister?”  
  
“Neither,” giggled Donna.  “I’m also a writer for the London Tribune.”  
  
“Now, _that_ sounds like a fascinating job.  What do you write about?”  
  
 _Here we go.  He’ll either know right away or not have a clue._  
  
“Restaurants.  I’m one of their critics.”  
  
Andrew held up his hand as he blotted his lips on a piece of paper towel.  “Wait...wait.  Don’t tell me - I know who you are!  You write the ‘Tasty Travels’ column on Sundays. I just remembered where I’ve seen your name.”   
  
“Yes. That’s me.”  
  
“How cool is that?  Your column is just brilliant! I love your writings – especially when you don’t fancy the place.  I’ve had some of my best laughs ever reading your column on a Sunday morning over coffee.  You know, this will sound a bit sick, but every week I actually hope you’re not going to like the place.”   
  
“Why does everyone say that?”  
  
“I think it’s because anyone can write a review full of praise; but dissing a place is a whole other game.  I imagine you have to be careful as to how far you go...”  
  
“Yeah, I have to try and balance it out.  I really do make an honest attempt to find something positive to say; as I don’t want to be too damning.  However, I’m not going to steer my readers to a truly lousy place.  In those cases, I just damn away without guilt.”  
  
“God, I loved how you ripped apart Jamie Oliver’s restaurant.”  
  
 _Why is that the one everyone remembers?_ _Probably because Jamie's a celebrity chef._  
  
“It was just brutal – so full of sarcasm.  I couldn’t stop laughing. I also made a mental note not to _ever_ go there.”  
  
 _I need to get myself over there to do a return review.  I promised Jamie._  
  
“In all fairness, I plan on returning to Comfort and give it another try.  I met with Mr. Oliver – at his request – so he could understand what went wrong and try to correct it.  He’s a wonderful restaurateur, and his heart is in the right place.”  
  
“I sense that you really like what you do.”  
  
“It’s a great job – I really love it.  Next week’s column is going to contain Bar Boulud.  I went last night with friends, but I’m afraid you’re going to be disappointed as I could only rave about it.”  
  
“I’ll put it on my list of places to try then.  So, if I got this right - you’re dating both this James Rhodes and Benedict?”  
  
“For the time being.  As I was telling you, this whole open dating business is getting too complicated. I’m going to have to make a decision in order to keep my sanity.”  
  
Andrew smirked.  “It doesn’t seem very complicated to me, Darlin. I’d say from the way you talk about Benedict, he’s the one your fancy most.”  
  
Donna stared at Andrew over the rim of her mug.  “I do have to admit that I have a soft spot in my heart for him.”  
  
Andrew laughed.  “I’d say you have more than a soft spot for him.”  
  
 _Who am I kidding?  I’m falling in love with him.  I don’t think I could love James like that....I think I just love him like a friend.  My feelings for Benedict are very different._  
  
“Well, even though I don’t know Mr. Rhodes, I must say Ben’s a fine man.  Very smart, funny, warm, generous, kind and caring. He’s excellent boyfriend material. Christ – did you just hear me?  I’m sitting here extolling his virtues like I’m his mother.”  
  
Donna thought back to the ad Wanda Ventham had written about her son, Ben; and the subsequent conversations they had had.  
  
“I’d say you’re not _quite_ in the prospective mother-in-law category yet, but you’re working on it.”  Donna grinned at Andrew.  “Time will tell, which if either, I decide is the man for me.”  
  
 _I’m giving myself three weeks to figure out how James and Benedict fit into my life.  Though why do I think I already know what the outcome will be?_

  
  
  
  
  
Benedict Cumberbatch climbed into bed and began to study his lines for the next day’s filming.  His back had vetoed sleeping on James’ couch, and he had wound up calling a cab to take him back to Hampstead. Every now and then, he’d glance over at his silent mobile phone.  He wanted to text Donna again, but was trying to control the impulse.   
  
_I can’t stand that she hasn’t further acknowledged my messages.  I only know that she got home safely.  How am I going to get any sleep without setting things right between us?_  
  
Benedict inserted his bookmark in his script and placed it on his bedside table. He stared again at his mobile as if willing it to chime.  
  
 _Fuck it!  I’m going to give it one last try._  
  
Benedict picked up his mobile and rang Donna’s number.  It went directly to her voice mail.  
  
 _Damn!  She turned it off!  That means she doesn’t want to be bothered. Unfortunately, she never gave me her land line number._  
  
Benedict went to the kitchen to get a glass of water, which he was in the habit of keeping on his bedside table.  On his way back to the bedroom, he paused at his desk to check on the progress of some music he was downloading onto his laptop.      
  
 _Perhaps I’ll just do a little web surfing before bed.  I can order that bistro set for the roof garden.  I believe it was in stock last time I looked._   
  
Benedict decided to check his emails first.  The first few were some jokes from James.  There was an email from Adam giving him a few dates to baby-sit his godson so he and Alice could have a night out.  The last one was from Wanda, asking him if he had time for dinner before he left for filming.  She also reminded him that she would soon be starting a film, which would take her on a location shoot for a couple of weeks.  Then it dawned on Benedict that he was really looking to see if Donna had sent him an email.  Sadly, there was nothing.  
  
Suddenly, Benedict saw Donna’s Skype name pop up in the lower right-hand corner of his screen, indicating that she was signed in.    
  
I wonder who she’s Skyping with so late?  Oh, most likely family or friends in the States.  They’d still be up.  Should I just say hello?  I wonder if she would keep the camera on so I could see her?  
  
Benedict sat, tapping his fingers on the desktop wondering if he should take action.

  
  
  
  
  
“It was good to chat with you guys, too!” Donna said to her brother and sister-in-law as she signed off from their Skype conversation.  
  
Donna had called her brother, Kenny, to say hi and had gotten the added bonus of seeing her twin nieces at the same time.  It was just after dinner time in New York, so the conversation didn’t last too long.    
  
Donna stretched and started to sign out of Skype, when a box popped up alerting her that she had a caller with an unfamiliar user name:  
  
 **BTCCmber71976**  
  
It was one she had not recalled seeing before, but Donna quickly figured out who it was.   
  
_It’s Benedict.  If I recall, his birthday is July 19th.  Should I answer it?_  
  
Donna got up and went to look in the foyer mirror.  She realized she was suddenly both nervous and excited at the prospect of seeing him.   
  
_Hmmm...hair in neat topknot, no makeup and sexy satin nightgown and robe. Not too shabby. At least someone gets to finally see my lingerie – ha ha ha!  I really shouldn’t answer it after the way he and James behaved.  Perhaps I should just hear what he has to say and then cut the connection...but that would be bitchy and part of me wants to talk with him in the worst way. I hate that we parted like that._   
  
Donna sat down in front of her laptop and adjusted the camera before she answered the call.  Suddenly, there was Benedict sitting at what looked like a roll top desk.  There was a lamp on in the background, casting him in soft shadows. She could see he was wearing a light gray, short-sleeved T-shirt along with a sheepish expression.  
  
“Hi.  I couldn’t sleep and saw you were signed in.  Am I interrupting anything?” he asked timidly.  
  
Benedict eyed Donna up and down.  She was sitting at the desk in her lounge area.  Her face was devoid of makeup, and her chestnut hair was gathered up in a topknot.  What really held his attention was the emerald green satin nightgown.  It was low cut and Benedict was treated to the sight of her cleavage.  He could just make out her nipples through the thin material when she moved.  A matching kimono-style robe barely covered her shoulders.    
  
 _Christ, if that’s how she looks every night when she goes to bed, I’d consider myself a lucky man – should we get together. She looks so young and sexy...if only she could bend over a bit towards me._  
  
“I was just chatting with my family and was getting ready to go to sleep.  I don’t recall exchanging Skype addresses with you,”  she frowned.  
  
“It’s on the business card you gave me for Carldonn Creative Catering.”  
  
“No, it isn’t; I would never put that on a business card,” countered Donna firmly.  “That’s too personal to put....”  
  
 _Good thing you thought to have it handy, Benedict. She’s quite the little skeptic._  
  
“You wrote it on the back for me,” Benedict held up the business card and turned it over so Donna could see her own neat handwriting on the back.  “The night we were at the Tate Modern.”  
  
“Jeez, I don’t recall doing it!”  
  
 _He’s looking at me as if he were starving and I was a steak.  He must like my nightwear.  Oh, the nightgown is a bit revealing for a Skype chat, let me fix that._  
  
Donna nonchalantly wrapped her robe around her so that only a bit of her neck was exposed and tied the sash around her waist.   
  
_Damn.  She realized I was staring. I’ve got to stop being so obvious._  
  
Donna caught herself staring at his bare arms.  She liked the ropy veins and how his arm muscles were visible whenever he moved.  
  
 _She’s staring at my arms...I wonder what’s so fascinating about them?_  
  
“It was right before the gelato became airborne and went rolling across the floor towards the waiters station.”  
  
“Now, that was a night to remember,” she laughed.    
  
Donna noticed his eyes looked a bit darker than normal.  
  
“ _Every_ night we’ve been together has been a night to remember, Donna,”  he said in a low voice.  To her ears it almost sounded like a purr.  
  
“What a sweet thing to say, Benedict.”  
  
 _Gosh, that voice goes right through me.....shit – I’m supposed to be mad at him._  
  
“I meant _every_ word, and I hope we have many more nights together in the future to remember,”  He looked at her through hooded eyelids.   
  
_He’s going to apologize for tonight.  The man knows exactly what to say to melt my heart._  
  
“There’s Thursday to look forward to, Benedict.”  
  
“Yes....I plan to snog you senseless after we leave the pub,” he said in a slightly lower voice.  
   
“I’ll make sure not to drink too much.  I want to be able to participate with a clear head.”  
  
 _Hmmm...Mr. Cumberbatch wants to flirt.  Okay, I’m game..._  
  
Donna took her hair out of the topknot and shook it out.  It cascaded around her shoulders.   
  
“And there’s Saturday...” she added as she smiled seductively at him.   
  
“Yes....I’m going to cook you a very _memorable_ dinner...with a very _special_ pudding.”  
  
 _My God!  That voice of his just rumbles right through me.  It is just going to be the death of me.  He could tell me what the weather’s going to be and make it sound like a pornographic novel._   
  
Donna tossed her hair back and leaned towards the screen.   
  
“Oh, I _love_ dessert – it’s my favorite course.  Can you give me a little hint?”  
  
Benedict smiled and leaned forward in his chair, so he was sitting on the edge of his seat.    
  
“Okay.  I’ll indulge you _this_ time. You can ask me one question, so make it a good one!”  
  
She sat still, pretending to think of a question.  Her face was the picture of innocence.   
  
“Is it something firm that gets warm and gooey when I suck on it?”

  
Suddenly, Benedict was no longer on the screen.  Donna could hear him swearing in the background.   
  
“Bollocks!! For fuck’s sake! Motherfucking chair!” He bellowed in disgust.  
  
Donna watched with curiosity as his chair seemed to roll itself back into place.  
  
“Benedict?  What happened? Are you hurt?”  
  
Two large, slender hands appeared on the edge of the desktop as Benedict hoisted himself up off the floor and back into view of the camera.  
  
Donna clapped her hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh. 

_He was so startled by my answer that he fell off his chair._   
  
“Are you okay?” she asked innocently twirling a strand of hair around her finger.  
  
Benedict arranged himself back in the chair and ran his hand through his hair.  
  
 _That was no innocent double entendre,_ thought Benedict. _Oh, how she loves to play with me._  
  
“I’m fine. The...erm...chair is on wheels, and I guess I was sitting a bit too close to the edge....damn fucking thing just kind of rolled away.....”  
  
Donna crossed her legs and sat with her elbow on the desk and the tip of her index finger in her mouth.

“So, did I guess right about the dessert?”  
  
Benedict rubbed the back of his neck and looked at her.  
  
“Jesus, Donna...do you realize how... _erotic_..... that sounded...to me?”  
  
Donna paused to consider his words, then she shrugged.

“I didn’t think it did. Anyway, would you like me to be more specific?”  
  
 _Bullshit.  You know exactly what you’re saying. If you get any more specific, I’m going to have to give myself a hand job before bed. Oh, well, what the fuck._  
  
“Please.”    
  
Donna noticed his voice sounded a bit hoarse.  
  
“Is it one of those chocolate-covered, caramel-filled vanilla ice cream bars that have a touch of cayenne pepper in them?  The ones I reviewed from the Hot n’Cold Ice Cream Company in Notting Hill?”  
  
“Nope.”    
  
Donna noticed that Benedict had regained his voice and had a twinkle in his eyes.   
  
“Pity.”  Donna pushed out her lower lip in a mock pout.   
  
“Does it _have_ to be an ice cream bar?” he winked at her.  
  
“Oh, no.  I like _warm_ desserts, too...especially ones that are _gooey_ in the center and _ooze_ – like a chocolate lava cake.  Do you have something else in mind?”  
  
 _Two can play this game_ , thought Benedict.  
  
“Yeah, I can _absolutely_ produce....a pudding that oozes all the goo you care to eat.  I think you’ll find it pleasantly warm on your tongue and the taste sweet, yet salty at the same time....”  
  
Benedict noticed her eyes had widened.  
  
“... but unfortunately, you are going to have to wait until Saturday night to find out what it is.”  
  
“You’re such a tease, Benedict!”  
  
“Christ, Donna!  And you aren’t?”    
  
“I thought you enjoyed a little harmless flirting...”  
  
Donna noticed that he quickly glanced down at his lap and shifted uncomfortably in his chair.   
  
“I do, but you’ve been positively shameless tonight, Donna!”  
  
 _And I’m so hard, I can’t stand it._

_Ugh! My panties feel damp._  
  
“I can’t wait to see you do your radio show Sunday.  It will be my first time seeing you act in person....”  
  
 “Yes.”  
  
“And Monday....you’re going to help me review the Duck and Waffle...”  
  
“...yes...”  
  
Donna noticed his voice had gotten slightly lower and rougher with each uttering of the word ‘yes’.    
  
 _He definitely should be doing audio books of bedtime stories – adult bedtime stories. I would be the first one on line to buy them.  It’s getting warm in here thanks to my flirty mouth and his voice._  
  
 _I really can’t sit here much longer.  I need to change the subject and get back on track. I’m supposed to be apologizing for acting like an arse._   
  
Benedict finally cleared his throat.  
  
“All teasing aside, I really wanted to talk to you before I went to bed.  I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive my actions tonight.  It was very childish and inappropriate.  I let jealousy cloud my better judgement.  You’re a grown woman, and you’re free to date whomever you fancy. Please accept my most heartfelt apology.”  
  
 _I really should tell him to fuck off, but suddenly I no longer want to.  It no longer seems important to me. Making amends is._  
  
Donna took a deep breath and looked at him. Then the words tumbled out of her mouth before she even realized it.   
  
“I wasn’t going to answer your Skype call, because I didn’t want to talk any more to you tonight.”  
  
 _Why did I say that?  I have such a damn big mouth.  Everything just comes to the top and spills out like a fountain._  
  
To her relief, Benedict smiled and playfully waggled his index finger at her.   
  
“Ah, but you _did_ answer my call.  I think you _did_ want to talk to me.”  
  
He knows I want to know what happened between him and James because I’m every bit as nosy as he is.  If he were in my shoes, he’d do the same.   
  
“Yes, I did; because in the end my insatiable curiosity won out.”  
  
“I think you didn’t want to go to bed while you were still mad at me,” observed Benedict. “You wouldn’t be able to rest properly until we sorted things out between us.”  
  
“Don’t flatter yourself, Benedict!” Donna said brusquely.  “I can _guarantee_ that I won’t lose any sleep over you.”  
  
 _That was a petty and dumb thing to say, Donna. You just hate it when he’s right.  Jesus – it’s as if he can read my mind sometimes._  
  
Benedict held up his hand.  “I’m afraid you misunderstood me, Donna. What I meant is that you don’t seem to be the type of person who can fall asleep easily once you’ve been upset by someone or something...you like to clear the air.  I know I’m that way.”  
  
Donna threw up her hands.  
  
“Okay, I admit it. I was _dying_ to know what happened between you and James.”  
  
 _Why did I say that? Look at his face! He’s very amused._   
  
“My, you _are_ a _very_ nosy girl, aren’t you?” laughed Benedict as he lazily  stroked his upper lip with his index finger.  “I don’t know if I should tell you or not...”  
  
“I’m _not_ nosy, Benedict!  I’m curious.  I just want to know if all is well between you and James.  I couldn’t bear to think I’ve come between two good friends.”  
  
Benedict rolled his eyes.

“Humph!  Now, who’s flattering themselves?”  
  
Donna’s cheeks reddened.    
  
“Touche! I meant that I wouldn’t want to be the cause of your friendship breaking up....you know what I mean!”  
  
Benedict sat back in his chair and crossed his legs.  She could see he was wearing pale blue sleep pants. They appeared to be made of very light cotton, and she could see the tone of his flesh underneath. He smiled at her and shook his head.  
  
Donna looked at him incredulously.

“You’re not going to tell me, are you!”  It was more a statement than a question.  
  
 _I want to set things right between us, not push her away,_ thought Benedict.   
  
“We had a long talk and agreed to carry on as we had been before we found out we were both dating you. There are no hard feelings between us.  So, am I forgiven, Donna?”  
  
Donna sighed deeply and smiled at him.

“I’m so relieved to hear that. Your apology is accepted, Benedict.  You know I can’t stay angry at you for long.”  She hesitated and bit her lower lip. “And in return I hope you’ll accept my apology for flaring up at you.... and being ....overly curious.....”  
  
He smiled back at her, feeling greatly relieved.

“Of course I do. You and I are so much alike when it comes to being..... curious.”    
  
They both laughed.    
  
Donna looked down at her hands.  “I also didn’t mean to be a....as my mother would say... cock tease.  My piss-poor attempt at flirting got a bit out of hand...I’m sorry.”  
  
“A little adult teasing in a relationship can be _quite_ nice,” replied Benedict.  “I also am the one who started it.”  
  
Donna just nodded and absently tapped her fingers on the desktop.   
  
_Are we in a relationship?_   _This is news to me...._  
  
“I have a confession to make,” began Benedict.  “I couldn’t stand the thought of your being pissed off at me.  I needed to set things right between us.”  
  
“I have one to make, too, Benedict.  I am so happy that you called.  I was wondering how I was ever going to get to sleep after all that happened tonight.”  
   
“Donna, you don’t always have to call me Benedict. Please feel free to call me Ben if you’d like – my family and closest friends often call me that.”  
  
She regarded him with raised eyebrows.  “Does this mean, I’ve made it to the close friends category?”  
  
Benedict uncrossed his long legs and leaned in close to the screen.   
  
“I think you know deep down inside that I consider you much, much _more_ than just a close friend, Donna,” he spoke his words very carefully and distinctly.   
  
Donna felt chills and her heart was racing. The rumble of his voice went straight to her loins, causing her to squirm in her chair.  
  
 _Oh my God...he really does have strong feelings for me. I’m not imagining it._   
  
She could barely nod her head.

“I feel the same way about you, and I’m also sure you realize that.”  
  
Benedict smiled at her.  His heart was pounding so hard, he could scarcely concentrate.    
  
“Good.  We’ll talk again after we’ve both had more time to think.”  
  
“You can count on it,” she breathed softly.  
  
“Good night, Donna.”   He blew her a kiss.   
  
“Good night, Ben.”  She returned the kiss.  
  
Donna Saint James and Benedict Cumberbatch both sat back in their respective chairs sensing that a lot of unspoken feelings had somehow passed between them.  They both went to bed feeling elated and that they were on the verge of an important step in their relationship.  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. The Hot n’ Cold Ice Cream Company in Notting Hill does not exist. It’s a figment of my imagination.   
> 2\. I have no idea how Andrew Scott and Benedict Cumberbatch actually met.   
> 3\. I have no idea if Andrew Scott ever auditioned for The Turning Point, but he did in my universe  
> 4\. I gave Wanda and Timothy the week off. They will be back next week. I don’t see the point in putting characters in for filler, they need to advance the plot line in some way – even if it isn’t readily apparent to the reader.


	43. Chapter 43

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Donna encounters the Ventham Family in Paternoster Square. An unsuspecting Adam becomes embroiled in Wanda’s thrist for information. We meet Donna’s sister, Carly and one of her favorite customers. 
> 
> (There is a lot of switchback in this chapter, as there is a lot of action happening at the same time that is being seen from different points of view. I’m using ***** to separate the different POVs. This should make it easier to read. This was a very difficult chapter to write.)

  
  
Thursday morning Donna Saint James stood in the kitchen of Carldonn Creative Catering arranging chocolate chip, oatmeal raisin and peanut butter cookies on a white plastic tray that had been covered with a paper lace doily.  Once done, she stood back and admired her work.  
  
“There. The cookie tray for the bankers' lunch is ready for delivery,” she announced to Maria, the Executive Chef.  Donna had been helping with the lunch order for the Citibank branch in Paternoster Square since the store opened.  “I already took care of the sides, so that just leaves drinks and sandwiches.”  
  
“Great!” exclaimed Maria.  “George and I are just about done with the sandwich platters.  All Karl has to do is add the beverages, pack it up and deliver. We’ll have no problem making their noon-time delivery.”  
  
Donna nodded and walked down the hallway to the office she shared with her sister, Carly.  She quickly ducked inside to check her cellphone for messages.  So far, the week had been very busy both professionally and personally.  Wednesday morning a large bouquet of mixed spring flowers had arrived at the Tribune from James.    
  
The card had read:  
  
 **I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive my folly of last night. I promise to make it up to you tonight!**

**“crosses heart”**

**James xxxx**  
  
Later that morning two dozen, long-stemmed red roses had arrived at the Tribune for her.  Donna had been especially delighted with the large ceramic vase the flowers had come in.  The sky blue, hand-painted vase was decorated with black and white cows grazing in a green pasture with daisies scattered about.  She knew before reading the card that they were from Benedict.  
  
The card was signed simply:  
  
 **Moooooooo**  
 **Always, Bx**  
  
Donna’s curious co-workers had quickly gathered around her cubicle to admire the  arrangements. They were very interested in hearing who Donna’s mysterious suitors were.  Most of them knew she was dating, and Donna had been careful not to give out too many details.  She preferred to keep her private life to herself for the time being.  
  
She removed her cellphone from her bag and saw that there were two messages.  One was from James, saying he would be lunching with his manager and then in a meeting most of the afternoon about doing a concert series in Brighton.  The other was from Wanda Ventham:  
  
 _“Hi Donna, it’s Wanda Ventham.  Please give me a call as soon as you get this message.  There’s been a change in my son’s schedule that I wanted to share with you.”_  
  
Donna hesitated before hitting ‘return call’.  
  
 _Part of me almost hopes that the plan has fallen through.  I’m so torn between James and the feeling that I’m on the cusp of something serious with Benedict. He gave me permission to call him “Ben” last night.  I get the impression that only special people are allowed to use that nickname. Do I want to add another man to the mix?  I want to follow through with Wanda’s son, but what’s the sense if Benedict’s the one I really want to be with? To be fair I haven’t even given Wanda’s son a chance.  Let me call her back and see what the scoop is. She’s such a nice lady, and I owe it to her._  
   
“Donna?” came her sister’s voice from the front of the store.  
  
“Coming!”  
  
Donna pocketed her cellphone and pushed the swinging door that separated the front of the store from the office, lavatory and kitchen in the back.  Her fraternal twin sister, Carly, was busy arranging sandwiches in the display case in time for the lunch crowd.    
  
“What’s up?”  
  
“How’s the Citibank order coming along?”  
  
“Almost done.  The bankers will not go hungry today thanks to our speedy team.”  
  
Carly smiled and nodded.  She was taller than Donna and slimmer with a mane of curly blonde hair that hung past her shoulders when it wasn’t tied back for sanitary reasons in the store.    
  
“Excellent!  I’m just about done here.  Is the rice pudding finished?”  
  
“Almost.  Karl and I portioned it out and put it in the blast chiller.  It’ll definitely be ready in time for lunch.  Wait until our customers see that the surprise ‘pudding’ really _is_ pudding!”  
  
Donna went outside and retrieved the large sandwich board upon which they listed their small daily menu.  She wiped off the breakfast items and began to list the available offerings for the day as Carly called them out to her:

  
  
"Today’s Homemade Soup  & Sandwiches:  
  
Chicken soup w/fresh spring vegetables & wild rice  
Dilled shrimp salad, rocket lettuce, Roma tomatoes on whole wheat wrap  
Smoked chicken breast, crispy bacon, arugula, Swiss, fig jam on olive roll  
Calzone with ricotta, fresh mozzarella, Italian sausage, broccoli rabe  
Roast beef, aged Cotswold cheddar, caramelized onions, spinach, horseradish cream on focaccia  
  
Sides:  
Asian coleslaw, Nona’s potato salad, Fresh fruit salad  
  
Desserts:  
‘Surprise’ Daily Pudding, Assorted Cookies, Choco-Cherry Brownie Bites."

  
  
Donna stepped back and admired her printing.  “I think we could use a larger board.  Your descriptions are too long.”  
  
“We agreed my descriptions are what attracts a lot of customers in. Besides this one is so heavy, we can barely manage to move it around.”  
  
“Yeah, we did agree on more tempting descriptions.  However,  I still think a slightly larger board would be helpful.  I’m going to price them out later. Maybe I can find one made of lighter material than this chalk board.”  
  
“How was your date last night?” Carly asked as she closed the refrigerated case and poured two cups of coffee for herself and Donna.  "I want you to try this.  It’s from the London Coffee Company.  I think we need to change suppliers. I’ve been getting complaints on the quality of the coffee.”  
  
“I had a very nice time.  James invited me over for dinner at his place.  You should see where he lives!  It’s in a recently renovated Georgian terrace house that they sectioned off into apartments.  He has a one bedroom with the most spectacular view of Regents Park.  Everything inside is so modern and new.  It’s just beautiful. All he has to do is get some new furnishings. After dinner, we watched a DVD and talked over espresso and cannoli.”  
  
Carly added cream and sugar to the cups and stirred.  “Well, well! He plays piano _and_ cooks?  I’m impressed!”  
  
“Don’t be.  He couldn’t cook if his life depended upon it.  I never saw anyone with so many takeout menus in my life!” Donna laughed.  “He keeps them in a three-ring binder on his coffee table. We had Lasagna Bolognese from a place that delivers.  It came with bread sticks and a tossed green salad.  What are we drinking?”  
  
Carly handed Donna a Styrofoam cup.  “This is organic toasted hazelnut. So how was James’ idea of home cooking?”  
  
“It was actually pretty good for takeout,” laughed Donna as she sipped the coffee.  “Mmmm this is much better than the coffee we’re using.”  
  
“Glad you approve.  I’ll prepare an order for regular, decaf and five flavored packs that we can rotate – a daily special.  How does that sound?”  
  
“Good.  Let me get this board set up outside, while you take care of the coffee order,” said Donna as she propped the door open and dragged the sign outside.  
  
 _What a gorgeous day it is!  I can’t wait to see Benedict tonight!  I better call Wanda back before I forget._  
  
Donna poked her head inside the store as soon as the board was set up.  “I just have to make a phone call, Curly Carly.  Be right back.”  
  
“You can leave the door open so we can get some fresh air in here,” said Carly.  “It’s so nice today.”  
  
Donna walked around the corner, away from the store, so she could have some privacy. She scrolled to Wanda’s message, hit ‘return call’ and waited while the phone rang.    
  
 _“Hello?”_  
  
“Hi Wanda.  It’s Donna.”  
  
  
  
************************************************************  
  
Wanda Ventham sat at an outside table for three in front of Paul’s Patisserie in Paternoster Square, waiting for her late-morning coffee.  Wanda had spent the better part of the morning in an old rehearsal room three blocks away.  She had been taking part in the read-through of a movie she was going to begin filming called _Asylum_.    
  
Wanda had been thrilled to win the supporting role of Bridie Straffern.  What was even better was that she’d be working with her old friend, Joss Ackland, who happened to be Adam’s grandfather. Joss was going to play her character’s husband, Dr. Jack Straffern. Adam had also been hired as the Second Assistant Director for the film.    
  
The read-through was already well underway when there had been an interruption in power, plunging the building into darkness.  Therefore, the director had suggested that the cast take a break while the power company was summoned to make the necessary repairs. Wanda, Joss and Adam had headed over to Paternoster Square to get a coffee at Paul’s, which always had a long queue of customers.  
  
 _I wish Donna Saint James would return my call while I have some time to chat_ , thought Wanda.  _If they come back with the coffee, I’ll have to excuse myself.  I can’t let Joss or especially Adam overhear anything I say to her.  I also have to remember to tell her that Benedict will be away on a business trip, rather than filming a movie in case actors aren’t her cup of tea.  I know she’ll just love him regardless, but I can’t risk another reaction like Samantha’s. One day that snobby posh bitch will regret she didn’t give my Ben a chance._  
  
Wanda’s mobile suddenly came to life.  The caller ID showed that it was Donna Saint James.    
  
 _Thank God!_  
  
“Hello”  
  
 _“Hi Wanda.  It’s Donna.”_  
  
“I appreciate your getting back to me so quickly,” began Wanda as she looked in Paul’s window to see Adam and Joss just about ready to make their selections. Adam turned and gave Wanda a thumbs up, which indicated they still had the pastry she wanted.  “I don’t have alot of time, so let me be brief.”  
  
 _“Go ahead, Wanda, I’m all ears.”_    
  
  
  
*************************************************************  
  
  
  
Donna absently gazed in the shop windows as she walked around the maze of alleyways within the square, listening to Wanda:  
  
 _“The good news is my son will be at Parliament Hill Market Saturday.”_  
  
 _Okay, so far, so good...._ thought Donna.  _At least the plan still appears to be intact._  
  
 _“The bad news is that he’s leaving on a business trip Monday, so it’s important that you make a good impression straight off the bat.”_  
  
“How long will he be away?”  
  
Wanda hesitated.  
  
 _Shit!  She’s just like Benedict with the questions – always asking something I’m not prepared to answer when I don’t want them to.  Lord knows, they really are meant to be together.  Then they can question each other all the time._  
  
Donna heard what sounded like Wanda clearing her throat.  
  
 _“He has to make several stops...”_  
  
 _Travel Plaza stops certainly count as stops.  I’m sure there will be more than one location that they’ll be filming at...I remember Benedict saying they would be filming in an old church and a few old houses in the town.  Let her deduce whether I mean cities or not.  Let her think he’s going to several cities._  
  
 _“...so he’ll be gone for awhile.  I believe he said a couple of weeks....could be longer.”_  
  
Donna stopped in front of a potter’s shop, as one of the items on display in the window caught her attention.  
  
 _That’s my cow vase!  Benedict must have bought it here and had the florist fill it with the flowers!_    
  
As Donna excitedly pushed open the door to the shop, she remembered Wanda was on the other end of her phone.  
  
“Oh, well, yeah...it sounds like he’s going to be very busy, Wanda.”  
  
 _She sounds distracted,_ thought Wanda with relief.  _Less questions that I have to dodge._  
  
“Is he visiting BBC affiliates?”  
  
 _But not distracted enough,_ thought Wanda with disgust.  _I need to answer her...OH!  I know what to say!_  
  
 _“You could say that,”_ replied Wanda, crossing her fingers.  
  
 _Miss Marple runs on a BBC station so technically he’s working for the BBC. It’ll do for her to think that for now._  
  
 _“The bottom line is, Donna, that he’s going to be away for awhile, so hopefully, you’ll capture his fancy, and he’ll ask you out for that evening or Sunday.”_  
  
Donna closely examined the vase.  It was indeed hand-made and hand-painted in the display studio in the back of the store.  The price tag showed Benedict had paid one hundred and fifty pounds for it.  Donna quickly did the pounds to dollars conversion in her head.  
  
 _Hmmm...he paid roughly $240,_ she whistled softly. _This is not a cheap vase.   He definitely went out of his way to find something hand-crafted, so that the flowers would have special meaning...that’s what I find so endearing about him._  
  
 _“Donna, were you just whistling? Can you hear me?_ ” came Wanda’s voice from the cellphone.  
  
  
************************************************************  
  
  
Wanda began to panic as she saw Joss paying at the counter, and Adam gathering up the tray to come out to join her.  Once out the door, they were only steps away from being able to hear her conversation.  
  
 _Hell’s bells!  She’s not answering me.  She’s preoccupied. Reminds me of Benedict at times when his head’s in the clouds._  
  
“Donna, were you just whistling? Can you hear me?”  
  
Nothing.  
  
Wanda huffed and shook her head.  Then she heard Donna’s voice.  
  
 _“Oh, sorry, Wanda.  I believe I already told you that I have plans Saturday night and now I’m booked up all day Sunday.”_  
  
 _Shit.  I remember her saying Saturday night was booked, but I didn’t know about Sunday.  Bless her, she’s such a busy little bird; but she needs to be busy with my Benedict._  
  
“Yes, you’re right. You did tell me about Saturday night.”  
  
 _“Can I ask you a question, Wanda?”_  
  
 _Just like Benedict.  It’s frightening._  
  
“Of course, Dear...”  
  
 _“Why is your son going food shopping if he’s going away?”_  
  
Wanda Ventham noted her time was up as Joss and Adam exited the patisserie and approached the table.  
  
  
  
***********************************************************  
  
  
Donna left the shop and began to circle back towards the store.  She made sure to take a brochure of the products produced in the pottery shop and left the owner several coupons that had an offer for a free muffin with the purchase of any beverage to keep on his counter for customers. In exchange, Donna had several discount coupons for the pottery shop to keep on the counter at Carldonn.  
  
“Why is your son going food shopping if he’s going away?” she had asked Wanda.  
  
 _I have to remind myself that she doesn’t know Benedict,_ Wanda smiled to herself. _He loves to take along treats on a car trip, bless him._  
  
 _“Since he’s driving, he’s taking along a cooler to keep some fresh fruit and other snack items in.  It’s often hard to find decent food on the road. I bet it’s the same in the States.”_  
  
“Yeah, it is.  My mom would always pack snacks for us whenever we took a car trip,” said Donna.  “Look, I’ll do my best.  If all goes well, perhaps I’ll suggest your son and I go for coffee if he doesn’t ask me first.”  
  
 _Oh, this is what I like about her – she’s not afraid to make the first move!  Benedict would like that. It would be good for his ego, too,_ smiled Wanda to herself.  
  
 _“Brilliant idea!”_ exclaimed Wanda.  _“I’m sure he’d be flattered if a beautiful bird asked him to join her for a coffee.  Oh, well, sorry for being short, Donna;  but I’ve got to ring off.  Good luck, and we’ll talk Saturday!”_  
  
Donna was startled by the change in Wanda’s voice.  Not only did it sound as if Wanda were on the phone, but right next to her.  She rounded the corner to enter the store and saw that she was not imagining it.  
  
Wanda Ventham was almost directly across from her, sitting outside of Paul’s Patisserie at an umbrella-covered table.  She was putting her cellphone away as a bearded man, roughly the same age as Wanda, sat beside her at the table.  The man had longish snow white hair and appeared to be tall and heavy-set.  They were sitting with their heads together looking at something on a cellphone.    
  
 _Shit!  It’s Wanda!  I bet that’s her husband sitting with her! I can’t have her see me.  She’ll think I’m spying on her!_  
  
Donna dashed into the store, knocking over the sandwich board in the process.  It fell to the pavement with a loud clatter and the chain that held the board together got caught on her shoe.  She frantically pulled the board after her until it lodged in the open doorway.    
  
 _Son of a bitch!  I don’t want Wanda to see me!!!  Damn shoe!_  
  
Wanda and her companions had looked up to see what the commotion was about. Fortunately, she had just missed Donna disappearing into the store.  All that remained was the sandwich board wedged in the doorway with a shoe tangled in its chain.  
  
  
*************************************************************  
  
  
“Joss, I can’t tell you how much I’ve been looking forward to working with you and Ian again,” said Wanda as she drank some coffee.  “It’ll be like old times!”  
  
“I was just saying the same thing to Adam not more than five minutes ago,” laughed Joss Ackland as he bit off some of his almond croissant.  
  
“This is like a dream for me,” Adam said to Wanda as he broke off a piece of his raisin and pastry cream escargot.  “...to be able to work with Ian McKellen, Natasha Richardson, you and Grandpa.  I’m totally star struck!”  
  
Wanda fixed him with a look and laughed. “ _Me_?  I certainly don’t expect you to be star struck around me, Adam Ackland – after all the time you’ve spent in my home?”  
  
“True.  I’ve spent alot of time with you – you’re like having a second mum, Wanda,” smiled Adam as he took his mobile out of his shirt pocket.  “By the way, Alice sends thanks for the photos you emailed from our wedding of Ben and me. We hadn’t seen those before. It was very thoughtful of you.”  
  
“You’re both more than welcome. It’s too bad you had all that red in your hair that day.  I much prefer your natural color.”  
  
Adam ran his hand through his blond hair.  “It couldn’t be helped. The director wanted me to look more like a ginger.  At least now that I’m into directing, I no longer have to worry about crap like that.”  
  
Joss tapped his grandson’s left hand.  “Where’s your wedding ring?  I notice you keep feeling for it.”  
  
Adam laughed.  “At the jewelers. I’m having it made a little bigger.  I put on a bit of weight, and it was feeling tight.  It should be done by Monday, but I miss it.  It’s like a part of me.”  
  
“How’s Jonathan?” asked Wanda.  “Ben said he’s getting so big.”  
  
Adam smiled warmly.  “He’s such a delight.  I’ve got some new photos of him that I took when Ben came over for dinner last night. As a matter of fact, there are a couple of Ben feeding him, which I’ll email to you and Tim.  We could not have picked a better godfather for Jon.”  
  
“I hear Benedict’s doing very well, Wanda,” commented Joss as he sipped some coffee.  “Adam keeps me posted on all the work he’s been getting.  I have no doubt that he’s going to get his break one day soon.  It’s just a matter of his landing the right role. You and Tim must be very proud of him.”  
  
Wanda gushed.  “He’s been working steady ever since he graduated from Lamda. Tim and I are so happy that things seem to be falling into place for him professionally...”    
  
 _Here it comes_ , thought Adam with amusement as he ate some of his pastry and washed it down with coffee.  
  
“....now, if we could only say that for him _personally_. Hopefully, he’ll soon find the right bird; so he can settle down and give us some grand babies,” sighed Wanda meaningfully as she broke off a piece of her warm chocolate pain. “Tim and I aren’t getting any younger.”  
  
 _Ha ha!  I knew it!  I could have said it along with her word-for-word, bless her. Thank God, Ben’s not here,_ thought Adam.  _I guess she’ll be asking Granddad if he knows of anyone next.  Let me find these photos so we’ll be spared._  
  
As Adam scrolled through his mobile for the photos, an idea came to Wanda.  
  
 _Hmmm...Adam is Benedict’s best mate. He must know about that bird Ben’s been dating.  I’m sure Ben tells him everything. Let me try the letting-him-think-I know-something approach._  
  
“So what do you think about this new bird Ben’s been seeing, Adam?” Wanda asked nonchalantly, as she toyed with her paper serviette. “I believe he said her name is Jessica DeHavilland.”  
  
Adam looked up from his mobile.  His face resembled a deer that had been caught in the headlights. Warning bells went off in his head, and he felt a chill down his spine.  He shifted uncomfortably in his chair.  
  
 _Oh, bollocks!  This is a trap!  She’s trying to get me to tell her the name of Ben’s girlfriend. Very clever of her for trying to extract information from me on Ben’s love life.  Ben specifically said he hasn’t said a word to Wanda about Donna.  Just Tim knows he’s seeing someone, but that’s all. Ben’s been keeping this one close to his waistcoat. Hell, I just know what he tells me about Donna, which hasn’t been all that much._  
  
Adam smiled at Wanda as he grasped for straws.  “Well!  At least _you_ know her name!  Ben hasn’t even told me that much. Ha ha ha!  It’s Jessica, huh?  Nice name.  Do you know what she does?  I thought he said she was a teacher, but I may be wrong.”  
  
Wanda’s ice blue eyes stared at Adam, searching for a sign to see if he were telling the truth.  Adam appeared the picture of calm as he sipped his coffee while meeting her gaze. It was the barely noticeable twitch in his left eye that gave him away.  
  
 _Shit. My damn eye is twitching.  I can feel it betraying me. Wanda knows I’m playing with her.  Why do mothers always know these things?_  
  
 _You get an ‘A’ for effort in trying to turn the tables on me, Adam Ackland.  That also wasn’t very convincing.  I can’t believe Ben didn’t blab all the details to you.  You are like two peas in a pod. I have to be careful.  Adam will go back and repeat this conversation to Benedict first chance he gets. Let me try the truth._  
  
“No.  I haven’t a clue as to what she does.  Like I said before, I don’t even know her name for certain.” began Wanda with a sad look.  “He tells Tim and I so little, that I was hoping you could shed some light on this mystery bird of his.”    
  
Wanda looked at Adam hopefully.

Adam could feel the panic beginning to slowly build inside of him.  
  
 _Christ – this is nerve-wracking! I need to tread carefully.  I don’t know how Ben does it.  No wonder he gets so stressed sometimes!_  
  
“Wanda, I can honestly say that I probably know less about this girl than you do.  As with you, Ben hasn’t been too forthcoming with information. He told me this time he wants to take it slow and be sure before he says anything.”  
  
Wanda’s patience was starting to wear thin. _Oh for fuck’s sake! We both know better than that, Adam Ackland.  And to think I dressed your cut knees and took you all over with Ben when you were smalls....Back to direct questioning then._  
  
“Have you and Alice met her?”  
  
 _Shit. She’s not buying that I’m in the dark.  She knows better, bless her.  Stick to the truth, Adam._  
  
“Not yet.  We are supposed to get together and go out to dinner when Ben gets done filming Miss Marple.  Alice and I are looking forward to it. I’m betting that he’ll bring her around to meet you and Tim soon.”  
  
“I’m sure Adam’s right, Wanda,” piped up Joss.  “He’s never been one for keeping secrets from you.”  
  
 _Hmmm...there’s alot you don’t know,_ chuckled Adam. _I’m the keeper of most of his secrets, and some of them would make you cringe._  
  
“Did Ben mention what she does for a living?  I think he said she was a advertising executive – but there’s been so many that I can’t keep them all straight!” Wanda laughed.  “I’ve been too busy studying my script.”  
  
 _Jesus Christ.  I just asked her that question!  Oh, she’s good. Ben was so right about her.  I have to be careful before she trips me up._  
  
Adam let out a nervous laugh.  “You know what’s funny?  I’m in the same boat as you, Wanda!  He’s dated so many women that I’ve forgotten what she does.”  
  
Wanda looked annoyed. _He said he didn’t know what profession she was in not more than five minutes ago.  Now, he forgot what she does.  Which is it? I think I now understand why he gave up acting._  
  
 _Bollocks!  She doesn’t believe me. I need to redirect the conversation back to Jonathan._  
  
Joss drank some coffee.  “I’m glad to hear that Benedict may be settling down soon.  He’s been alone too long.”  
  
“Tim and I are praying this works out.  We just want him to be happy.”  
  
“I have a strong feeling it will,” said Adam as he found the photos he was looking for.  “I haven’t seen Ben this over the moon about anyone since Olivia. He can’t stop talking about her – her looks, her personality, her great job.  I really wouldn’t be surprised if he brings D...her home soon.”  
  
A big shit-eating grin crossed Wanda’s face.    
  
 _Thank you, Adam!  Just what I need to know.  So, my boy is serious about the restaurant bird, whose name begins with a ‘D’.  That’s good enough for now. Donna is going to have her work cut out for her._  
  
 _Motherfucker!  She caught me. Ben doesn’t want them to know that Donna may be the one. I almost said her name – thank God I caught myself in time._  
  
“Is she an actress or in the business?” asked Joss.  “I think someone in the business would be good for Benedict.”  
  
 _Oh, no!  Now you’re going to jump onto the bandwagon, Granddad? I can’t keep both of them at bay much longer. I’ve already said more than I should have._  
  
“Ah!  And here are the photos of your great grandson....” began Adam in a last-ditch effort to distract Wanda and his Granddad from further discussion of Benedict’s love life.  “Just keep scrolling down while I go back inside to get another coffee.  Anyone else care for a refill?”  
  
Joss and Wanda both shook their heads and began to look at the photos.  
  
“He’s so precious!  Looks very much like his daddy,” mused Wanda.    
  
“Do you now? I think he favors Alice more,” commented Joss.  “He does have Adam’s colouring...”  
  
A loud clatter of a sandwich board hitting the pavement startled them as they were looking at Adam’s son’s photos.  Wanda and Joss stopped and turned their attention to the direction of Carldonn Catering.  The sandwich board was seemingly stuck in the doorway with a shoe tangled in it.  Adam rejoined them at the table with his coffee.  He was laughing out loud, as were others who were also seated outside to witness Donna’s calamity.  
  
“Must have been the wind,” commented Joss.  
  
“What wind?  It’s perfectly still,” scoffed Wanda.     
  
“It was neither,” chortled Adam.  “I saw what happened as I was getting my coffee. If you weren’t watching closely, you would have missed it. Some girl, who was in a hurry, knocked it over and dragged it after her as far as the store entrance, where it got wedged in the doorway.  Her shoe got tangled in the chain, so she just left it there.  Can you imagine someone being so klutzy?”  
  
Wanda had a sudden flashback to the day she had met Donna Saint James at the Orangery.  She smiled knowingly at Adam as she took a bite of her chocolate pain.  
  
“Actually, I could very well imagine that, Adam.”  
  
  
*************************************************************  
  
  
Once inside the store, Donna Saint James stood back far enough so she could see outside, yet not be seen in the store.  She took a deep breath and sighed heavily as she let it out.  
  
“May I ask who you’re hiding from?” inquired Carly as she watched her sister with a combination of curiosity and amusement.  
  
“No one,” snapped Donna as she moved a bit closer to the large display window to stand behind one of the heavy lace curtain panels that framed it.  
  
“Donna, you do realize that you’re only wearing one shoe? I could swear you left the store wearing two,” Carly chuckled.  
  
“Yeah, it’s stuck in the sign outside.  I’ll get it later,” replied Donna distractedly.  “I don’t think I can be seen through these curtains...what do you think, Carly?”  
  
“I think you’re nuts.”  
  
“What a nice-looking family she has...I can’t _believe_ she’d cheat on her husband like that,” mumbled Donna.  
  
“What did you say?”  
  
“Nothing.”  
  
Carly shook her head. “I’d better go outside and fix the sign, while you continue your covert surveillance.”    
  
Donna watched her sister set the sign back up outside. She looked at the window and gave Donna a thumbs up as she returned to the store.  Donna’s shoe lay just outside the door, forgotten about. The two young women stood looking out the window into the square. After a minute, Carly poked Donna.  
  
“No one can make out who you are through the curtains. Want to tell me who we’re spying on, Sherlock?”

“Stop it!” growled Donna. “See the attractive older couple sitting in front of Paul’s on the right.  The man has white hair and woman is pretty with blonde hair?”

  
_Jeez Louise!  She’s a blonde again!_  
  
Carly stepped closer to the window and looked in the direction Donna pointed in.  
  
“Oh, that’s Wanda!  She comes in here sometimes at lunch – usually with her friend, Uma or is it Una?  I’m not quite sure which it is.  They are the cutest things.  One day last week Wanda brought her husband in.  You would just love them.”  
  
Donna frowned and indicated the large man sitting beside Wanda. “Is that the man she came in with?”  
  
“Heck no! He was thin with silver hair and hazel eyes – very distinguished looking.  I believe she called him ‘Tim’.  I have to ask Maria to be sure – she was helping me behind the counter that day.”  
  
 _I just can’t believe this!  Wanda came in here snooping around and had the audacity to bring her paramour with her!_  
  
“Did she introduce him to you as her husband?”  
  
“No.  They just came in, and she did most of the talking -  just like she always does,” laughed Carly.  “Wanda does love to talk.”  
  
“Was there anything about their conversation that would lead you to think they were....not husband and wife?”  
  
“It was very busy, so I didn’t have time to chat.”  
  
“Do you recall if he was wearing a wedding ring?”  
  
Carly blinked at her sister.  “For God’s sake!  Enough with the questions, Donna!  You should have been a lawyer! You sound just like Mom.....”  
  
Donna felt a sudden rush of excitement as she watched a tall, young man with blond hair come out of the patisserie with a hot cup and sit at the same table as Wanda and her companion.  Donna immediately recognized him from the photo Wanda had emailed her, even though his hair was now a different color.  She squeezed her sister’s arm.  
  
“Ouch!  That’s my arm you’re squeezing, Donna!”  
  
“Oh my God!  It’s _him_!  It’s really _him_!” Donna exclaimed, covering her mouth, hazel eyes wide. “He’s even better looking in person!”  
  
“Who are we getting so excited about?” asked Carly in frustration.  
  
“See the guy who just sat with Wanda and her husband?”  
  
“You don’t know for certain if that’s her husband, Donna!”  
  
“Oh, yes I do!  _Please_ believe me when I tell you that man is her husband and the younger one is her son, Ben.  Her son looks just like his father – take a good look, Carly!”  
  
“Damn it, Donna!  I feel like a jerk spying on these people.  Wanda’s one of my customers....”  
  
“Oh, come on now, Dr. Watson. You know you love to unravel a good mystery as much as I do,” teased Donna.  
  
Carly stepped as close as she dared to the window and carefully studied the two men, who were busy sipping coffee and eating pastries. Then she pretended to re-arrange the cookies in the window display.  
  
“You’re right. They do look very much alike. There’s definitely a family resemblance.  It’s funny, but Wanda never mentioned having a son.”  
  
 _You should only know!_ thought Donna.  _She was brokering for him on Craigslist, and I was dumb enough to answer her ad...and that’s only the beginning._  
  
“Wanda’s son _is_ very handsome,” commented Carly.  “I also don’t see him wearing a wedding ring. I wonder if he’s single?”  
  
“Definitely,” said Donna quietly.  “He’s an executive for the BBC. He has such a sweet smile, doesn’t he?”  
  
 _His hair was strawberry blond in the photo Wanda sent. Now, he’s blond.  I guess he dyes it. I think I prefer him as a blond. I wonder which is his natural color? I can’t tell by his father, and Wanda definitely dyes hers._  
  
“Hey, wait a minute!  How do you even know Wanda and her son?” Carly asked Donna with a raised eyebrow.  “And if that man sitting with her is really her husband, then who was that man she introduced me to as ‘Tim’?”  
  
The shop door opened and a tall, slender man in his mid-thirties strode in.  He was wearing faded jeans with a blue and red plaid shirt over a black T-shirt, worn blue trainers and had a large backpack slung over his shoulders.  His thinning hair was a nice shade of red, which matched the beard on his face. He took off his sunglasses and smiled at Carly.  
  
“Morning Carly!  I just thought I’d breeze in and ask if you could please hold an order for me to pick up later. Probably right before you close – if that’s alright? I even promise to be on time,” he smiled and winked at her.  
  
“Sure, Mark,” Carly smiled as she gave Donna a ‘this-conversation-is-not-over-yet’ glare.  
  
Both women returned to the counter.  Donna noticed the red-haired man was studying her closely.  After a minute or two, he cleared his throat and held out Donna’s shoe to her.  His blue gray eyes twinkled with amusement.  
  
“I found this lying outside the door, and being you’re the one walking about wearing its mate, I can only deduce that this is your shoe, Cinderella.”  
  
Donna’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment.  
  
“Thank you,” she said, accepting the shoe and putting it back on.  “Does this make you my prince?” she teased, placing both hands over her heart.  
  
“Alas, my dear, I’m afraid I’m already spoken for,” he said with mock sadness.  
  
“Mark, this is my sister, Donna.”  
  
Mark laughed good-naturedly and offered his hand to Donna. “A pleasure, Donna.  It’s so nice that our paths finally crossed.  If I recall, you’re Carly’s twin.  I’d never have guessed – fraternal twins, obviously.  I’m Mark Gatiss, I always come in at the last minute looking for takeaway supper – especially when it’s my night to cook.  Today, I thought I’d shake things up and come in early; so I could have a bigger selection.”  
  
 _Saved by the customer_ , thought Donna happily.  
  
“Are you working in the area today?” asked Carly as Mark studied the board of the day’s offerings that was also posted up on the wall behind the counter.  
  
“We’re filming a few blocks to the east of Saint Paul’s.  We’ve been here since five, so I feel as if I could use a nice long lie down,” Mark mused.  “Looks like the weather will be holding in our favor, so we’re just going to soldier on until we get all the shots we need.  I’m confident I’ll be back by four at the latest.”    
  
“Are you an actor?” Donna asked.  
  
“Among other things,” replied Mark with a laugh.  “Today, I’m wearing my script writer’s hat.”  
  
“Mark’s one of the writer’s for Dr. Who,” explained Carly.    
  
 _Oh, Dr. Who! I remember Grandpa used to watch it with us all the time_ , thought Donna.  _I wonder if Carly told him her grandfather and husband are Dr. Who fans?_  
  
Donna’s cellphone began to ring.  It was her boss at the Tribune.  
  
“Excuse me,” she said to Carly and Mark as she went to the back office.  
  
  
*********************************************************  
  
“Well, I just got a text that part of the building has power restored.  Unfortunately, not the part the rehearsal room is in.  They’re not sure how much longer, so I’ve got to go back and see if I can help find us another space,” said Adam, as he finished his coffee. “I’ll send you both a message as soon as we’re ready to resume. Until then, enjoy your leisure time.”    
  
“I think I’ll use the time to catch a cab and pay a brief visit to a friend of mine in hospital,” said Joss.  “I’ll see you both later then.”  
  
Wanda slung her bag over her shoulder.  “I’m going to do some shopping for Benedict’s birthday. There’s nothing I like better than shopping,” she said with marked enthusiasm. “I think I’ll check out those stores in the New Change Mall.”  
  
Adam and Joss kissed Wanda goodbye on both cheeks.  Wanda began to cross the square and glanced in the window as she approached Carldonn Creative Catering.    
  
 _That looks like Mark Gatiss.  I think I’ll go in and say hello._  
  
  
  
*************************************************************  
  
  
  
Donna rushed out of the back room, just as Mark Gatiss was handing a credit card to Carly to pay for his order.  She was all in a tizzy.  
  
“Carly, I’ve been summoned by my editor.  I have no idea why, but a last minute meeting’s been called in thirty minutes.  I’ll be back as soon as I can,”  Donna said in a rush, as she took a peek out the window to see what the Ventham Family was up to. They were still sitting at the table, drinking coffee as if they had all the time in the world.  
  
 _This certainly would be a great opportunity to meet her son.  Maybe I’ll just walk over and say hello; but then Wanda will start talking, and I’ll be late for my meeting. Though that may not be the best idea.  She was very adamant that I meet him accidentally because she’s afraid he’ll be angry that she’s trying to set him up.  I could call her and ask her what she thinks...._  
  
“You know, I think I’ll take some of those brownie bites back to the set.  Can you fix me a box to take with me?” Mark asked, as he sipped a cup of green tea. “I’ll need enough for forty people.”  
  
“I’ll give you whatever we have left, Mark,” said Carly. “I’ll be right back.  You’ll have plenty of time to make your meeting,” she said to Donna as she disappeared into the back.  
  
 _Wait!  I can’t go out the front door!  Wanda’s son must have seen me trip on the sign and drag it when he was coming out of Paul’s..  He was really laughing and had to have told his parents what happened.  Half of the square saw my faux pas.  Oh my God!  What if he recognizes me at Parliament Hill on Saturday?  Maybe he didn’t get a good look at my face.  Damn! I’ll just deal with it if it happens.  I’d just better leave things the way they are and head over to the Tribune.  I’ll go out the back door as soon as Carly comes back._  
  
Mark’s mobile rang, and he immediately took the call.  He wandered over to  the window in order to get better reception, as he chatted with someone named “Steven” about changing a shooting location for the next day.  
  
Donna continued to gaze out the window at Wanda and her family, while tapping her foot impatiently and willing her sister to expedite matters.  All of a sudden, Wanda’s son took a phone call; and they all got up from their table.  
  
 _Good!  Now, if only Carly would hurry up with the friggin’ brownies, I’ll be off and no one will have seen me._  
  
Donna watched as both her husband and son kissed Wanda goodbye on both cheeks and headed off in opposite directions.  To Donna’s horror, Wanda turned and began walking towards the store.  
  
 _She’s headed this way!  I hope she’s not going to come in to talk to Carly!_  
  
Suddenly, Wanda and Mark lifted their hands at the same time to wave at each other through the window.  He beckoned her to come into the store.  
  
 _Shit!  They know each other?  How can they know each other? He’s an actor/writer, and she’s a housewife who places ads in Craigslist for her bachelor son when she’s not meeting her lover. Son of a bitch!  He wants her to come in here._  
  
Mark finished his call and strode towards the door to greet Wanda.  
  
 _If Wanda sees me, she’ll know I was the klutz who knocked over the sandwich board.  She thinks I’m clumsy as is after what happened at the Orangery. This will only reinforce it. How embarrassing!  I can’t let her see me.  I have to get out of here now!_  
  
“All ready, Mark!” said Carly as she came through the swinging door and placed the tray of brownies on the counter, just as Wanda and one of the cashiers from M &S entered the store.    
  
Donna quickly backed through the swinging door, pausing to listen to what Wanda and Mark were saying.  Then she quickly turned and ran smack into George, the Sous Chef, who was carrying a large tray of rice pudding in foil ramekins that were destined for the display case. Unfortunately, her large handbag had gotten caught in the door, and was trapped on the other side.  
  
  
***********************************************************  
  
  
“Wanda!  How nice to see you!  Always looking so young and lovely,” exclaimed Mark warmly, as he hugged and kissed her on both cheeks.  
  
“Flattery will get you everywhere, Mark!” laughed Wanda.    
  
The cashier approached the counter and smiled at Carly.  “Hi, I’m Lorraine from M&S.  I just started there and was putting together a lunch order.  Your line’s been engaged, so I decided it was easier to walk over.  Everyone wants to know what the Surprise Pudding of the Day is?”  
  
 _Karl must have been on the phone again.  How many times do I have to ask him to use his cellphone instead of the blasted landline?_   thought Carly with annoyance.  
  
“Oh, you’re in for a real treat today...” began Carly as a huge crash came from just inside the doorway leading to the back of the store.  Everyone came to a standstill and looked at Carly, who ran to see what had happened.  
  
“What in the hell is going on.....”    
  
Carly stopped dead in her tracks as she surveyed the scene before her.  
  
George and Donna sat on the floor, surrounded by ramekins of rice pudding.  Most of the creamy dessert was either on George or the floor.  George was glaring at Donna, and Donna looked as if she wanted to crawl into a corner.    
  
“I was about to bring the pudding out when she just backed through the doorway like a bloody blind bat out of hell, and we collided!” exclaimed George, as he got to his knees and began to collect up the ramekins.  
  
“Jesus!  Now, what are we going to do?” demanded Carly, as she shot a withering look at her sister. “I have a customer outside asking what the surprise pudding of the day is.  What am I supposed to tell her?”  
  
Donna winced and spread her hands in apology.  “I’m so sorry! Just tell her the surprise is that there is no pudding today.”  
  
“You need to watch where you’re going, Donna!,” admonished George. “Carly, we really need to have a window put in the door so we can see when someone’s about to go in or out,”  he added grumpily.  “Or spy on what’s going on in the shop. This is the third time this has happened.”  
  
Karl came out of the kitchen with a mop and shook his head.  “Maria said it sounded like there was a mess out here and a mop would be needed.  She was right.”  
  
Carly retired her apron. “I trust it’s too late to make another batch of rice pudding, George?”  
  
“Yeah.  The pudding takes too long.  It has to bake slowly in a Bain Marie, then it has to be chilled.  I suppose I could make a stovetop version, but it will still need time to set up and chill.”  
  
“How about more brownies?” Carly asked hopefully.  
  
George got to his feet and shook his head.  “There isn’t enough time to make a batch of brownies in time for lunch.  I just used up the last of the baking powder. We’ll just have to stick with what we have left, which are biscuits.”  
  
  
  
************************************************************  
  
  
“There certainly is a lot of excitement going on here today,” giggled Wanda as she tried in vain to hear what all the commotion was about in the back.    
  
“Did you see that clumsy girl who knocked over the sign and dragged it with her as far as the doorway?” asked Lorraine.  “I work at M&S and saw the whole thing from my register.  It was so funny, I couldn’t stop laughing.”  
  
Mark smirked, “I guess I arrived too late for the pre-show. Sounds to me like there was a collision of sorts in the kitchen.”  
  
“As a matter of fact, that’s who caused whatever happened back there,” continued Lorraine.  “It was the same girl.  She backed through the door as if she were running from the devil.  Then came the crash.”  
  
“Damn, I was too busy chatting on the phone,” lamented Mark. "But I do know who you're talking about.  I rescued her shoe from outside."  
  
“Too bad I missed it,” added Wanda.  
  
The door to the back swung open, and Carly smiled sheepishly at Lorraine.  
  
“I’m afraid the surprise is that there is no surprise pudding today,” she said lamely.  
  
  
  
*************************************************************  
  
  
Donna stood near the door, listening to the conversation between Wanda, Mark Gatiss and Lorraine as she wiped the pudding off her hands. Her sister was busy reviewing her options with George, as Karl mopped the floor.    
  
 _Damn, this stuff sure is sticky! I need to wash my hands. Karl’s blocking the way to the bathroom. I need to get a wipe...._  
  
Donna looked around for her handbag, but it was no where to be seen.  
  
“George, did you see where my handbag wound up?”  
  
George pointed to the swinging door that Carly had just passed through.  “It got caught in the door when you turned around.  It’s in the shop.”  
  
 _Shit!  I’m sure Wanda will recognize my bag!  She knows I’m part owner of the business with Carly.  She knows first-hand that I’m a klutz.  I want to just die right here. She won’t want me for a daughter-in-law after this.  Then I’ll be free of my self-imposed obligation._  
  
  
*************************************************************  
   
  
“What happened back there?  Is everything alright, Dear?” Wanda asked Carly with concern.  
  
“It seems my sister was on a collision course with the swinging door and the pudding was a casualty.  By the way, Lorraine, it was rice pudding. We’ll make another batch for tomorrow.”  
  
Mark started to chuckle, as he sauntered over towards the swinging door and picked up Donna’s large handbag that had been pushed to the side when Carly went through the door to investigate the calamity.  
  
“I feel like the Fairy Godfather today! I get to rescue Cinderella’s wardrobe twice,” said Mark as he picked up Donna’s bag and placed it on the counter.  “My God, this has to be the _heaviest_ bag I’ve ever held!  What in bloody hell does she keep in there?”  
  
“All kinds of useful stuff,” replied Carly. “I used to tease her, but you’d be surprised how handy it is at times.”  
  
Wanda carefully studied the handbag.  
  
 _I’d recognize that handbag anywhere.  It belongs to Donna Saint James.   Carly only has one sister – and that’s Donna!   This means Donna was the one who knocked down the sign. She probably saw me and thought I would continue to think that she’s clumsy....well, actually, I do.  Now, she’s ashamed to come out and get her bag because she knows I’m here. When things like this happen, it makes me question why I’m so keen on matching her up with Benedict._  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Wanda Ventham and Joss Ackland played husband and wife in a 2005 movie called Asylum, which was pretty scary and worth watching. For the purposes of this story, we are moving the filming to 2009.
> 
> 2\. Adam Ackland is the second director for Asylum in my universe. In reality, he had nothing at all to do with the film. He was an actor briefly according to IMDB.
> 
> 3\. I’m not sure if Ian McKellen, Joss Ackland and Wanda Ventham ever worked together prior to Asylum, but for the purposes of this story, they have. 
> 
> 4\. One New Change Mall, actually opened in late 2010. However, I opened it a year earlier for the purposes of this story. :-)
> 
> 5\. Mark Gatiss’ personality is partially taken from interviews and videos I’ve seen of him. The rest is totally how I imagine him to be.
> 
> 6\. Happy Father's Day to all dads!


	44. Chapter 44

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adam fills Benedict in on his conversation with Wanda. Donna and Carly spy on a rendezvous between lovers in church. Benedict takes Donna to her local. Wanda ambushes Timothy on the balcony. 
> 
> (Once again I’m using ***** to indicate the switchback between Donna and Carly eavesdropping on Wanda and Tim’s conversation, which is happening at the same time. NOT an easy thing to do!)

  
  
Benedict Cumberbatch was pleased that he was officially done with filming his scenes in _Burlesque Fairytales_. Everything had gone exceptionally smoothly and a couple of his scenes had been done in just one take.   The director had been very happy with Benedict’s performance, and now Benedict was done with his part in the film.    
  
 _Now I have plenty of time to shower and get ready to meet Donna at the pub. I hope her day went as well as mine did.  She had texted me that her editor was having a meeting – I hope it was nothing bad._   
  
Once back in his dressing room, Benedict removed his costume and sat at the dressing table in his pants.  He took a jar of makeup remover and slathered it all over his face and neck, making sure to get under the hairline.    
  
 _I wonder how Donna’s dinner with Jimmy went last night.  He hasn’t called or texted me, which is not like him at all.  He loves nothing more than to regale me with every last detail of his dates._  
  
Benedict wiped off the cream with a tissue and went to the sink in the small bathroom to wash his face.  As he dried his face on a towel, a thought came to him.  
  
 _He’s avoiding me because it was Donna.  He’s not comfortable talking to me about what happened last night.  It’s killing me to know....I’ll just casually find a way to work it into the conversation tonight at the pub._  
  
Benedict’s thoughts were interrupted by his mobile phone ringing.  He saw it was Adam Ackland.  
  
“Hi Adam! Done with the read through already?”  
  
 _“The fucking read through never started!”_ came Adam’s voice, which was laced with irritation.  _“First, they lost power to the bloody building.  Then half of it came back on – not our half, of course.  Then David, tasked me with finding another room we could rent out for the afternoon, but that didn’t work out.  He was less than pleased as he had to let everyone go with pay and let me know it.  So, here I am walking to the tube station to head home where I’m loved and appreciated.”_  
  
“I’m sure you’ll find solace in the arms of your lovely wife,” said Benedict, as he grabbed two fresh towels from the pile that had been left for his use.   
  
_“As long as Jon isn’t cranky.  Everything’s different once children come along, Ben.  Now, Alice and I have to make time to make out,”_ he laughed. _“Spontaneity is gone for the time being, but I’m not complaining. He’s such a delight! Are you done shooting for the day?”_  
  
“Everything went so well I’m completely done.  I was just getting ready for my pub date tonight with Donna.  This will be her first time visiting one.”  
  
 _“As you were then.  We’ll talk tomorrow.”_  
  
Benedict checked the time on the dressing room clock. “I’ve got a little time to chat, otherwise I’ll be too early.”  
  
Adam laughed. _“Heaven forbid you should show up anywhere early. You do have that reputation to maintain.”_  
  
Benedict ignored the good-natured jab. “I still can’t fucking believe what happened Tuesday night.  Honestly, do you and Alice think I over reacted?”  
  
 _“I’ve got to tell you that I’m really happy I wasn’t there, Ben.  As you could see, Alice and I were speechless when you told us what went down last night. Neither of us is a fan of that open dating crap.  Someone’s bound to get hurt, and we don’t want it to be you.”_  
  
“I don’t want it to be me either,” said Benedict softly.  “I just hope Jimmy and I can maintain the truce while we wait for Donna to sort things out for herself...” his voice trailed off.  
  
 _“Do I detect a ‘but’ coming?”_  
  
“Yeah.  I’ve been doing alot of thinking, and I’ve decided that I’m going to press the issue just a tiny bit tonight when we go back to her place.”  
  
 _“Be careful, Ben.  If you give her an ultimatum, it could backfire and drive her straight into Jimmy’s arms,”_ warned Adam.  _“From what you’ve told me, Donna sounds like she’s pretty headstrong.”_  
  
“She is,” sighed Benedict.  “You know sometimes she reminds me of my mother.”  
  
 _“Speaking of your mother,”_ began Adam, clearing his throat.  _“While we were waiting for the power to come back on, I had a coffee with her and Granddad...”_  
  
“Oh, God, please don’t tell me she started in with my poor son can’t find a bird,” cringed Benedict, putting his head in his free hand.    
  
 _“Not exactly...”_  
  
Benedict sat up straight.  “Did she ask Joss if he knew of a bird for me?  Oh, please don’t tell me she....”  
  
Adam tapped on the mouthpiece. _“Benedict!  Shut up for one motherfucking moment and let me finish, please! It was nothing like that.”_  
  
There was a pause as Benedict took a deep breath and composed himself.  
  
“Sorry.  I’m just so conditioned to react that way. I’m listening, Adam. Please continue.”  
  
 _“You know how she tries to trick you into telling her something you shouldn’t?”_  
  
“I know it only too well.  It’s like playing a game of cat and mouse, which  unfortunately, she usually wins,” sighed Benedict. “The only one she won’t dare do that to is my dad.”  
  
Adam hesitated.  
  
“Oh Christ!  She did it to you, didn’t she?” asked Benedict with a sinking feeling in his stomach.   
  
_“Well, in a word, yes.  Granddad gave her the opportunity, and she just ran with it. We were sitting outside of Paul’s having a coffee when he innocently  asked how you were doing, and it just went from there.  I’ve got to give her credit.  By the time she finished with me, my head was spinning.”_  
  
Benedict’s stomach felt queasy.  “Exactly, what was she probing for and what did you tell her?”  
  
 _“She let on that she knew about Donna....”_  
  
“For fuck’s sake!  How did she know? I never said......”  Benedict felt panic rising.   
  
_“Would you please be quiet for fuck’s sake and let me finish!  She was being very clever trying to make me think she knew that you were dating Donna.  Then she pretended she’d forgotten Donna’s name and what she did for a living....”_  
  
Benedict was all ears as Adam relayed the entire conversation to him.  Once done, he shook his head and took a minute to digest what his friend had told him.   
  
“Oh, how very clever indeed!” exclaimed Benedict.  “Pretending to be forgetful. Mum would never, _ever_ forget _any_ detail I told her about someone I was dating.  Her brain is like a filing cabinet – everything neatly stored and catalogued until needed.”   
  
_“I feel awful that I let it slip that you were dating someone special, and she tricked me into confirming it,”_ said Adam. _“She’s trying her damnedest to find out more about the girl.”_  
  
“Not to worry, mate. I’m not mad. Mum just excels at surreptitiously gathering information.  Dad always said she should have been a spy and worked for MI6.”  
  
 _“I also wanted to assure you that I said nothing else to her about Donna.  I played dumb and made a clean get away,”_ Adam laughed. _“All she knows for sure is that you’re involved with someone. Period. No name or occupation was mentioned. Anyway, I’m at the tube.  Talk later.”_  
  
“I really appreciate the heads up, Adam. Please thank Alice again for a lovely dinner last night and give my godson a kiss from me.”  
  
 _“It was good to spend some time with you.”_  
  
“Thanks to you and Alice for listening to me.  I appreciate it.”  
  
 _“You would do the same for me.  Cheers,_ ” said Adam.    
  
“Cheers.”  
  
Benedict got in the shower and let the hot water run over his body, hoping the heat would relax the tense muscles in his neck and shoulders. As he  shampooed his hair, he kept replaying the conversation with Adam in his mind.  
  
 _How in the hell did Mum know I’m dating someone? She just knew I was casually dating here and there.  I’m sure she didn’t just make that up to try and bait Adam.  She knows something, somehow._  
  
He rinsed his hair and began to soap his body.  Then it occurred to him who had told Wanda about his dating someone.   
  
_Holy Christ! It’s Dad! He’s the leak for fuck’s sake!  Why did he tell her I was seeing someone?  He’s the only one who knew besides Adam, Jimmy and Emmy...I can only imagine what Mum would think if she found out Jimmy and I were both dating Donna. Not one of them would ever tell her for fear of interrogation. It was definitely Dad.  Mum probably sensed he was hiding something and somehow got it out of him.  Bloody hell!  I need to have a serious talk with him then.  I’m not ready to tell Mum until things are totally sorted out between Donna, Jimmy and me._   
  
When Benedict was done with his shower and dressing, he still had some time to kill; so he left the studio and placed a call to Timothy from a Cafe Nero, where he sat sipping an espresso.  
  
 _“Hello?”_  
  
“Dad, it’s me.  We need to set aside some time for a talk.  Can you meet me for breakfast Saturday morning?”  
  
 _“I can barely hear you, Ben.  I’m in Saint Paul’s.  I’m meeting your mother for tea in the crypt, so she can hide from her fans.  I’ll ring you back when we’re done.”_  
  
  
  
  
  
“Wow, that was quite a lunch rush!” said Carly as she and Donna walked across Paternoster Square towards Saint Paul’s Cathedral.  “I’m exhausted.”  
  
“Sorry, I missed part of it,” said Donna. “In just a few minutes you can rest your weary bones in Saint Paul’s where it’s nice and cool and enjoy a hot cup of tea.”   
  
“How did the meeting with the editor-from-hell go?”  
  
“Fantastic! Actually, he’s not so bad after all.  We’re all starting to warm to him. My Christmas dining in New York trip has been approved; so I’ll be home for Thanksgiving.  Mom and Dad will be thrilled,” replied Donna as they mounted the steps to the cathedral.  “Now, they’ll have all of us home – unless Steven can’t take a few day off.”  
  
“I’m sure he can. His supervising doctor is very understanding about American holidays.”  
  
The two women entered the massive cathedral.    
  
“It’s gorgeous in here!” exclaimed Carly. “And huge!  It looks bigger than St. Pat’s.”  
  
“This is where Charles and Diana were married,” pointed out Donna.  “The view of London from the top is magnificent. It’s quite a climb though.”    
  
“So where is this cafe?” asked Carly as she continued to gaze around the massive house of worship.  
  
“This way. Now, keep an open mind.  It’s downstairs in the crypt.”  
  
“Afternoon tea in a crypt.  How charming,” said Carly sarcastically, as they made their way downstairs to the cafe.  “Maybe once we sit down you can tell me what’s going on with Wanda and this son of hers.”  
  
  
************************************************************  
  
  
Timothy Carlton rang off his mobile and put it in his pocket, as he entered the cafe in Saint Paul’s Cathedral.  He glanced around, but Wanda was no where to be seen.  
  
 _That’s odd.  Wanda’s rarely late.  I guess she got held up somewhere.  I’ll just get us a table and wait for her._  
  
Timothy chose a table for two next to one of the thick white support pillars in the seating area and sat down to wait for his wife.   
  
  
************************************************************  
  
  
“Everything looks delicious here,” said Carly as she surveyed the display case of baked goods.  The cafe was set up like a cafeteria with a separate seating area. “You’re the critic, so what do you recommend we get?”  
  
“A lavender shortbread cookie and a slice of the lemon drizzle cake,” replied Donna without hesitation.  “Don’t forget we’re here so you can taste the tea.  My favorite is the white tea with apricot and elderflowers.”  
  
“The tropical green sounds good to me,” said Carly as she pondered the different kinds of tea bags set out in a basket.  “Something different from plain green tea.”  
  
“How about I get the food, and you find us a table? There’s a large group out there looking for seating.”  
  
“Will do,” said Carly as she walked off towards the seating area.  
  
Donna took a peek at her cellphone as she waited in line and was pleased to see she had reception.  She was even more pleased to find three messages from Benedict:

  
  
_I’m completely done with filming. Can meet you at 5:00pm if you’re free.  B_   
  
_I’ve been thinking about you all day.  B_   
  
_Can’t wait to feel your lips on mine again. Text me if you can meet me earlier.  B_

  
  
Donna looked at her watch.  It was three fifteen. She had plenty of time to go home and change. Donna was also confident that Benedict would be late regardless of the time he promised to be there.  She sent him a response:  
  
 _Busy, eventful day, but I’ll be there at five. If you’re on time, I’ll show your sensitive hair follicles some serious appreciation later on.  D_  
  
Donna was surprised when he immediately returned the text.   
  
_What an interesting incentive....what happens if I’m late?  B_  
  
How fond of pain are you?  D  
  
 _It depends on what you have in mind!  I can be quite open minded....  ;-)   B_  
  
Sounds like we’re picking up where we left off the other night.  D  
  
 _Doesn’t it though?  Can’t wait to hear your ideas then. I suspect you’ve been reading that dominatrix book.  :-0   Cheers.  B_

  
  
Donna paid for the food and tea and immediately spotted Carly sitting at a table next to one of the wide pillars that supported the ceiling of the vast hall in the dining area.  She sat down heavily with a sigh.  
  
“It feels good to sit down.”  
  
“Sure does.  Who were you texting?” asked Carly as she put the teabags in the pots of hot water.  “I can barely get a signal down here.”  
  
“And you have the nerve to call _me_ Sherlock? How in the world did you see me from here?”  inquired Donna as she cut the cake and placed half on her sister’s plate.   
  
Carly pointed to the wooden divider behind them, which had sections with open slats.  “A combination of good eyesight and openings in the divider.”  
  
“I was texting my date for tonight if you really must know,” said Donna as she dunked the teabags.  “He wanted to meet up earlier than planned because he was done with work sooner than expected.”  
  
Carly frowned. “This is not James we’re talking about I take it.”  
  
Donna shook her head.  “Nope. Somebody else.”  
  
“And?”  
  
Donna broke the shortbread and gave Carly half.  “He’s just someone I’ve been seeing casually. When and if there’s more to tell, I’ll tell you.”  
  
“Steve and I really like James.  Are you going to let him say hello to Mom and Dad on Skype soon?”  
  
“When I’m at a point in the relationship where I feel it’s appropriate to do so, I will,” snapped Donna.   
  
_Certainly not after what happened Tuesday night_ , thought Donna.  
  
“I’ve no plans to rush into anything, Carly.  I’m not even thirty,” continued Donna in a huff. “I don’t know why you guys are always pushing me to get married?  I’m not quite ready to make a commitment to anyone yet.”   
  
_However, I have a strong feeling that Benedict is going to ask me for one soon.  He keeps dropping subtle hints._   
  
Carly held up her hands in mock surrender.  
  
“I just asked if you were going to let him say hello, Donna, not if you had baby names picked out yet.”   
  
Donna poured out the tea and added two sugars to her cup.  
  
“I just want to be sure before I go around introducing anyone to them, Carly.  You know how they get.  I’m sorry for being so snippy.”  
  
Carly nodded thoughtfully as she ate some of the shortbread.  “I appreciate the reminder.  You’re absolutely right in not wanting to introduce them to James yet.  It’s been five years since Steven met the Neil and Toni Show.  I’ve forgotten what they’re like with prospective in-laws,” she laughed.  
  
“I haven’t – not for one minute! Mom and Dad seem normal to us because we grew up not knowing any better. They’re not!  Poor Steven and Scarlett. I felt so bad for them when you and Kenny brought them home to meet them,” lamented Donna. “I bet the FBI and CIA don’t investigate their prospective employees as thoroughly.”  
  
“In the end both Steven and Scarlett survived and Mom and Dad love them to death. You worry too much. When your time comes, you and your man will get through it, too,”  Carly laughed. “Think of it as a right of passage.”  
  
“Says you,” grumbled Donna under her breath. “A passage into hell.”  
  
“Mmmm...the lavender goes nice with the buttery shortbread.”  
  
“It’s the tea I’m interested in your opinion of,” said Donna, glad for the change in subject.  “Here.  Try some of mine.”  
  
“I really like mine.  Try it.”  
  
The sisters exchanged cups so they could taste each other’s selection.    
  
“Oh, these are really good.  You were right,” Carly said as she looked at the teabag.  “There’s no name on it.  How do you know where they get it from?”  
  
“I had asked twice, but they didn’t want to tell me.  Then the last time I was here, I saw the box behind the counter.  They use the London Tea Company.”    
  
“Donna, I think we’ve found a new supplier. This has been a good day – new coffee and new tea suppliers.”  
  
“I’ll place an order tomorrow.”  
  
Carly ate some lemon cake and looked around.  
  
“You know, it is very soothing down here.  Cool, quiet – I thought it would be weird, but it isn’t.  Now, I understand why you come here sometimes.”  
  
“You thought it was going to be creepy because it’s in a crypt,” teased Donna.  “It’s anything but.  They also have a great gift shop. It’s on this level.  We’ll pass it on the way out.”  
  
“Yeah, I did think it was going to be – hey, isn’t that Wanda?” asked Carly, pointing to the area across from them.  
  
Donna dropped her fork and looked around.  “Wanda?  Where? I don’t see her.”  
  
“There – by the next pillar.  She seems to be looking for someone.”  
  
“Wanda!  Over here!” called a man’s voice from behind Carly.  
  
Donna froze as she knew that voice.  She peeked around her sister to see Timothy Cumberbatch sitting at a table that was partially obscured by the pillar behind Carly.   
  
Both Donna and Carly watched as Wanda came around and sat in the seat beside Timothy.  Luckily, thanks to the acoustics, they were able to hear their conversation quite clearly.  
  
“I don’t think they have a clear view of us because of the pillar,” said Donna in a low voice.  “Move your chair over here, and you can see them better.”  
  
  
*************************************************************  
   
  
“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” Timothy said to Wanda as she leaned over him and kissed him on the lips.   
  
“Afraid of being seen with me?” mock pouted Wanda as she sat in the chair beside him.    
  
“Never. You get more beautiful with each passing year,” Timothy said taking the shopping bags from her and setting them down on the floor.   
  
“And you always know exactly what to say,” she laughed. “That’s why I love you so much.”  
  
“I was getting worried that you were going to stand me up,” teased Timothy he took her hand in his and kissed it. “I was fearing you might have found something more interesting to do with your afternoon than sip tea in the shadows with me.”  
  
Wanda giggled and used her thumb to wipe some lipstick off his mouth.  “I would never do that to my favorite tea date in the world. I’ve been looking forward to this all afternoon.  I’m just so chuffed that I was able to get away.”  
  
“I think you just like dining in crypts,” laughed Timothy.  “That way no one will recognize you. However, if you’re caught, I’m prepared,” he held his jacket open so she could see the thick pen in his inside pocket.  
  
“Oh, stop, you!” scoffed Wanda, playfully swatting his arm.  
  
“How did it go today? I wasn’t able to slip away and call you earlier.”  
  
“It was a bloody waste of time.  The power went out in the building, so we went out for a coffee to kill time.  Then they said they’d call us when it was back on, but it never happened.  Anyway, I got some shopping done for the birthday boy,” she laughed.  “And I even picked up a little surprise for you.”  
  
Timothy began to rummage in the shopping bags.  “I don’t see anything.”  
  
“It’s in the pink and white polka dot bag.  I’ll model it for you later.  Now, how about if I get our tea? What sort of pudding do you fancy?”  
  
“I’d rather have another one of your hot kisses and skip the tea,” said Timothy, waggling his eyebrows at Wanda.  
  
“My, my, aren’t you the feisty one this afternoon,” she said giving him another kiss. “Normally, I’d take you up on your proposition; but I’m starved and would like my tea first.”  
  
Timothy smiled at her.  “Before you go, pet; I’ve been thinking that we need to take a short romantic getaway from London – not to Gloucestershire.  I mean how about somewhere near the sea like Hastings?  We can get a little cottage where no one can bother us.  I saw an advert for a special two night rate. We can leave on a Friday afternoon and be back in town by Sunday night. Do you think you can get away?  I don’t want to upset the apple cart.”  
  
“Well, I certainly don’t want to upset David.  I’ll have to think of something to tell him.  I just can’t say that I’ve decided to run off on a holiday at the last minute with no explanation. He’ll be working with the others over the weekend, so I don’t think I’ll be missed.  Maybe I’ll say that my sister isn’t feeling well, so I want to see her for a couple of days.  What do you think?”  
  
“I hate to lie.  Maybe we should just postpone it until he’s done with you.”  
  
“Nonsense! I’d love nothing more than a quiet, romantic holiday with my favorite man.  Let me mull our options over while I’m on the queue.  What’s your pleasure, Love?”     
  
“Well,  you could do what you did last time we were together.  I really enjoyed that.  We just have to take it easy with my back...”  
  
“That’s not what I meant you lusty little dear,” laughed Wanda.  “I’m talking about your tea!”  
  
“I’ll have the white tea with the apricots and a slice of Victoria sandwich.”  He reached into his pocket, took out his wallet and handed Wanda some notes.  “They also have the lemon drizzle today. We can share if you’d like.”  
  
“I’m easy. Be back in a moment, Handsome,” Wanda said with a wink as she got up and headed for the serving area.   
  
  
***********************************************************  
  
  
“That’s _definitely_ her husband,” whispered Carly.  “He’s the one who came in the store with her.  I don’t know who the two men from this morning were, but Tim’s definitely her husband.”  
  
“Well, they aren’t acting like they’re married,” scoffed Donna.  “It sounds like there’s some serious flirting going on if you ask me. I’m telling you again that the white-haired man she was with this morning is her husband and the younger man with the blond hair is their son.”  
  
“Oh, for God’s sake, Donna!  You have such an over active imagination.  Don’t Mom and Dad show affection towards each other in public?  They still hold hands and kiss each other in front of us,” argued Carly. “Don’t Steven and I?”  
  
“Shhhh!  Did you hear what he just said to her? He asked her if she was afraid to be seen with him.  Then he said she likes crypts because no one will recognize them – see, that _proves_ they’re in hiding!” insisted Donna. “I wonder what was in his jacket. Maybe it’s a gun!”  
  
“Nonsense. They’re just teasing each other,” whispered Carly.  “You will never convince me that Wanda is having an affair with that man.”  
  
“Wanda isn’t the innocent you think she is, Carly,” spat Donna. “How disgusting – having a lovers’ rendezvous in a church, of all places!”  
  
 _Poor Benedict.  His father carrying on in public with Wanda, and he thinks his parents have such a good marriage.  Good grief._  
  
“I hope Steven and I are like that when we’re their age,” sighed Carly wistfully as she watched Timothy and Wanda exchange another kiss.  “How romantic they are.”  
  
“Shhhh...listen!” commanded Donna.  “He just asked her to go away with him.  Okay?  Satisfied?”  
  
Carly suddenly frowned as she listened to the exchange between Wanda and Timothy.  She looked at Donna, eyes wide.  
  
“Jesus.  You may be right after all, Donna.  David must be her husband – the man with the white hair.  Tim just said he doesn’t like to lie, so what do they think they’re doing? From what Tim said about her getting more beautiful with each passing year, it certainly sounds as if they’ve been doing this for awhile.  However, something inside me still wants to give them the benefit of the doubt.”  
  
 _I wonder how long this affair has been going on?_ thought Donna sadly. _Her family looks so nice.  I feel sorry for her son – I bet he has no idea either._  
  
“Oh, _please_! I know what I’m talking about!” hissed Donna.  “You heard every word I did. Look at them! They are _definitely_ having an affair – why else would they be sitting behind a pillar in the corner like that?  Because they don’t want to be seen!”   
  
“We’re sitting in a corner behind a pillar,” commented Carly dryly.  “And we aren’t hiding from any body.  Unless, there’s something you’re not telling me?”  
  
“It’s Wanda!  I can’t let her see me,” said Donna quietly, as Wanda got to her feet and disappeared into the serving area.   
  
Carly looked puzzled. “Why not?  Donna, you’ve been acting strange since this morning.  What’s going on?”  
  
Donna grabbed her handbag, jumped up and kissed her sister on top of her head. “It’s a long story, Curly Carly.  I’ve got to go before Wanda comes out and walks past us.  I’ll talk to you tomorrow!”  
  
“Have fun tonight!” said Carly to her sister’s retreating back.    
  
  
  
  
Benedict Cumberbatch found Donna Saint James standing outside of the Golden Fleece Pub facing away from him.  He walked up behind her and put his arms around her waist as he whispered in her ear.  
  
“Bet you never thought I’d actually be on time, did you?”  
  
Donna started then realized it was Benedict as she got a whiff of his cologne.  She relaxed in his arms and giggled as she looked up at him.  “Only in my wildest dreams,” she murmured as he leaned down to kiss her gently.   
  
“You have wild dreams about _me_?”  Benedict asked skeptically with a raised eyebrow. “I’d love to hear about them sometime.”  
  
 _Oh, you should only know!_   thought Donna. _And they’re getting wilder._  
  
“Maybe one day I’ll tell you _my_ dreams if you’ll tell me _yours_ , Benedict.”  
  
“I’ll share them with you now, if you’d like.  After all, you are the star of most of them,” he said with a wink.     
  
 _Why did I say that?  I wouldn’t put it past him to actually tell me!_ Donna felt herself blush.  “I’m flattered...I think.”  
  
“You’re supposed to be.  This way I’m hoping you won’t be too cross with me when you realize I’m late again,” he winced.    
  
He gave her that little smile she so loved, especially when he crinkled his nose.   
  
“Holy cow!  I thought you were teasing me, Benedict; but you really _are_ on time,” praised Donna as she checked her watch. “I’m impressed!”  She beamed at him.  
  
 _What the fuck is she talking about?  It’s five-fifteen.  I’m late._  
  
Benedict looked at his watch and frowned.  “Erm...what time does your watch show?  Mine shows five fifteen, so technically I’m late.” He held out his wrist so she could see it.  
  
“Your watch is slow.  Mine says it’s just about five minutes after,” said Donna.  “I consider this on time for you; therefore, your scalp has a lot to look forward to.”  
  
“Ah, that’s brilliant! So, ready to have your first pub experience?” Benedict asked as he opened the door to the pub for her.  
  
“I’ve been looking forward to it all day!”  
  
“Let’s grab a booth, and I’ll get us some drinks first,” said Benedict as he led her to the back of the pub and sat in a cozy wooden booth with padded seats near an old stone fireplace.    
  
“It’s really nice in here. I’m very excited,” Donna said as she looked at the drinks menu.  “What are you drinking?”  
  
“I think a pint of the  Hackney Gold.”  
  
“I’m not a huge fan of beer,” said Donna.  “I’ll get something else.”  
  
“Can you give me an idea? Would you fancy wine, cider, soda? I need to tell the bartender more than ‘something else’,” laughed Benedict, getting to his feet.    
  
“Where are you going?”  
  
“Drinks and food are ordered and paid for at the bar.  I’ll bring the drinks back, and a server will bring out the food,” explained Benedict.  
  
“How about if I get this round?” asked Donna.   
  
“Absolutely not.”  
  
“Why not?  You always pay.  Please let me this one time?  I would feel better, and I can look around to see what they have up there.”  
  
Benedict sat back down.  “If you insist. Don’t forget to tip the barkeep.”  
  
“I do insist.  I’ll be right back,” smiled Donna, as she got up and headed to the bar.  
  
Benedict watched Donna walk away in her snug jeans.  He could tell by the way she very slightly swayed her hips that she knew he was watching her.  
  
 _Such a little flirt she is. She has such a nice bum.  I can’t wait to get back to her place.  I could use a good thorough snog tonight.  I’d love to ask her if she wants to be in a committed relationship, but I promised myself that I’d wait until she made up her mind.  I wonder what she would do if I did ask?  Perhaps I’ll see how things go, and I’ll broach the subject at her place._  
  
  
  
  
Donna was surprised how crowded the bar area had become.  It was as if all the local offices had let out and emptied into this one pub.  The bar was lined with people three deep, drinking and trying to place orders for drinks and food.   
  
_Jeez.  No wonder Benedict wanted to get the drinks.  It’s so crowded in here. He’s tall and can see over most of these people.  I guess I’ll just wait here until I can squeeze in._  
  
Donna looked around as she waited her turn.  There was a family behind her at a table having their dinner.  The daughter was drinking something that smelled fruity.  Donna noted that the bottle was labeled as cider.   
  
_Oh, it looks like they have regular cider, too!  I’ll get that._  
  
Finally,  Donna was able to reach the bar.  The harried barmaid smiled at her.  
  
“What can I get for you, Love?” she asked briskly, wiping her hands on a towel.  
  
“A pint of Hackney Gold.  And a cider that isn’t hard.”  
  
The woman strained to hear Donna over the din of the loud music and people chattering about her.  
  
“What kind of cider? We don’t have Hargroves.”  
  
“Soft cider. Sparkling is o.k. if you have it,” replied Donna, raising her voice.  
  
“They all sparkle, Love.  What else did you say?”  
  
“I’d like a bottle of soft cider please.”  
  
The barmaid frowned and cocked her ear towards Donna.  
  
“We don’t stock Sofia’s either.”  
  
Donna heard the man behind her sigh loudly.  “Bloody tourists can never make up their minds!” he muttered. “They should read the drinks menu first and find out how things are done here before taking up the barkeep’s time when others are waiting – and know what they fancy!”  
  
Donna felt her cheeks get hot.  “Whatever you have that’s soft and sweet...like when you go apple picking,”  she said quickly.   
  
The barmaid still had trouble understanding exactly what Donna wanted.    
  
“I’ve got Kopparberg and Bulmers, Love,” she said as she pulled Benedict’s beer into a mug.  “Kopparberg is sweeter, mixed with berries.”  
  
 _That sounds good,_ thought Donna.  _All you have to do is ask. I’m pretty thirsty, so I’d better get enough to keep Benedict from having to get up and down. I’ll get something to munch on, too._  
  
Donna nodded.  “That sounds good.”  
  
“Speak up, Love, the bloody music makes it tough to hear you.”  
  
“I’ll take a pint of the Kopparberg and a basket of potato chips – I mean crisps -  please,” said Donna.   
  
“Praise the Lord and all that is holy!  She finally made a bleedin’ decision!” muttered the man behind her.  
  
  
  
  
Timothy Carlton opened the sliding glass door and stepped out onto the balcony that was off the lounge of his Kensington flat. He closed the door behind him and placed the mug of coffee he had been carrying on the table of the small bistro set. Timothy had just finishing uncovering the table and two chairs that they kept on the balcony for the summer season.  He and Wanda enjoyed having their morning coffee at it while reading the papers. There was a nice view of their street, and a partial view of Kensington High Street.   
  
Timothy pulled out a packet of cigarettes from his shirt pocket and removed one, along with a box of matches.  
  
 _Neither Wanda nor my doctor would be too chuffed that I’m having a fag, but once in awhile won’t hurt me anymore than I probably already am.  I so enjoy having one with a coffee._   
  
Timothy lit up the cigarette and savoured the heady flavour of the tobacco as he took his first drag.  He pulled out one of the two metal chairs from the small bistro set and positioned it so he could watch the street and see if anyone entered or left the mews house.  
  
 _Perfect!  I’ll be able to see Wanda as she’s coming back from the doctor._   
  
Timothy sat sipping his freshly brewed coffee and smoking, as he admired the blooming petunias in the many flower boxes that were up set against the railing.    
  
 _This year’s blooms look particularly large this year,_ thought Timothy with pride. _Wanda will be very pleased. Well, I’d better return Benedict’s call and see what’s on his mind._  
  
Timothy took out his mobile and rang his son back, hoping the conversation would be a short one but knowing better.   
  
  
  
  
Benedict sat back in the booth, waiting for Donna to return with their drinks.  
  
 _I wonder what’s taking her so long?  There must be a crowd at the bar.  Damn.  I know I should have gone up there.  She must be standing there letting everyone go in front of her because she’s so small.  Christ! I hope she didn’t spill everything and is waiting for another round._  
  
His mobile began to ring.  Benedict looked to see that it was his father.  
  
“Hello Dad.”  
  
 _“Sounds like you’re at a party,”_ quipped Timothy.  
  
“I’m at the Golden Fleece, having a beer and some pub grub.”  
  
 _“Sorry.  Didn’t mean to disturb you.  Just ring me back when you get home.”_  
  
“I’m not sure when I’ll be home,” replied Benedict truthfully.  “I’m just waiting for my date to come back with our drinks.”  
  
 _Oh, Benedict, such a big mouth you have.  He’ll go and tell Mum I’m out on a date, as soon as he rings off._  
  
 _“Jolly good then.”_  
  
“Is everything alright, Dad?”  
  
 _Bless him.  That head just serenely floats in the clouds some days,_ thought Timothy as he took a drag.  _His mind must be on his date._  
  
 _“Well, I’m returning your call,_ ” chuckled Timothy. “ _What’s on your mind, son?”_  
  
 _Such a loaded question I ask,_ mused Timothy, and I’m sure to be punished for it.   
  
“Oh, yeah,” said Benedict, sounding a bit startled. “That’s right.  I did. Sorry – I’m just a bit preoccupied.....”  
  
 _Of course you are. I wonder what her name is_.  
  
“......I wanted to know if you could meet me for breakfast Saturday morning so we could have a little chat.  Nothing’s really wrong....”  
  
 _Nothing’s really wrong. That translates to something is wrong, and I sense I’m the one in hot water,_ thought Timothy.   
  
_“Ben, I can always make time for a father and son chat.  Where and what time?”_  
  
Benedict thought for a minute.  _I’ve got to get up early, clean the flat and go to Parliament Hill Farmer’s Market as soon as it opens to shop for dinner._   
    
“How about the Coffee Cup in Hampstead Village?  I have a lot to do Saturday – I’m having a friend over for dinner that night, so could I ask you to come to me?”  
  
 _Hmmm.  That’s Benedict-speak for:  I have a hot date coming over for dinner, my flat is a mess, I have no idea what I’m cooking and need all the time I can get,_ thought Timothy with amusement.  
  
 _“Date night with James is it?”_ Timothy teased.  
  
 _Why did I ask him that?  Wanda would have asked him that.  Holy Christ, I’m getting just like her._   
  
Benedict hesitated before answering.  “Erm...nope.  Not James. I’ll fill you in over breakfast.”  
  
 _I bet it’s the girl he met at Barbecoa. Well, at least he’s confirmed that he’s going to the market, that will make Wanda happy. Donna Saint James will have her work cut out for her that morning. Perhaps I could shadow him after breakfast and watch it all unfold.  What am I thinking?  That’s exactly what Wanda would do.  I better not tell her where I’m meeting Benedict for breakfast or she’ll try and talk me into playing spy._  
  
“Dad? Are you there?”  
  
 _“That’s fine.  Your mother and Claire have a day booked at the hair salon, starting with massages and facials; so I’ve got plenty of time,”_ replied Timothy. _“What time shall we meet?”_  
  
“Nine,” replied Benedict, as he saw Donna walking back to the table trying to juggle two large mugs filled to the brim along with a basket of crisps. “For fuck’s sake! Erm, Dad, hang on a minute....I need to avert a calamity.”  
  
 _Or you could ring me back after you’ve averted the calam_ ity, thought Timothy, _but that would be too easy._  
  
Benedict dropped his mobile on the table and quickly closed the gap between him and Donna.    
  
“Oooo, it’s going to spill all over!” exclaimed Donna with a giggle.  “Help me!”  
  
“I got it!” said Benedict, quickly taking the heavy glass mugs from Donna as some of the beer sloshed over the rim of the mug onto his shoes.  
  
“Thank you!” said Donna with a smile of relief.  “That was the longest walk of my life, trying to balance all that.”  
  
“Careful.  The floor’s wet.  I don’t want you to take a tumble,” said Benedict as they sat down at the table, facing each other.    
  
“I feel so bad that some of the beer got on your shoes, Ben.”  
  
“It was only a few drops,” said Benedict as he used one of the paper napkins to wipe off his shoes.  He was wearing black canvas trainers, and the beer had already soaked through.  
  
 _I’ll just toss these in the wash when I get home.  It was time to do the laundry anyway._  
  
“How about if I get the next round?”  
  
 _"Hello? Benedict?  Hello?  Are you there?"_  
  
Donna and Benedict both stared at his mobile, which was lying on the table.  
  
“Did you just leave whoever you were talking to in the middle of a conversation?” asked Donna in disbelief.  
  
“Shit!” cried Benedict, as he grabbed the phone.  “Hello, Dad.  Sorry about that. I had to help get the drinks sorted.  Now, is nine good for you?”  
  
 _Saved by the beer!_   thought Timothy happily.  
  
Donna blinked and almost dropped one of the chips she was about to take a bite out of.  
  
 _He’s talking to Tim! I wonder if he knows Benedict is here with me? He should only know that I saw his dear father not less than two hours ago kissing his paramour and discussing romantic getaways in a church!_   
  
_“Nine’s fine by me.  As you were then, Ben. Cheers,”_ said Timothy.  
  
  
  
  
Timothy sighed and flicked some ashes into one of the flower boxes.  
  
 _That wasn’t so bad, and I wound up gathering some useful information. Not bad for a five minute chat._  
  
“I was wondering why my petunias were thriving so well this year.  It must be the cigarette ash,” came Wanda’s voice from behind him.  
  
Timothy was so startled that he dropped his cigarette into his coffee.  
  
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.  Where did you come from?”  
  
Wanda snickered. “Well, if I have to explain _that_ to you.....”  
  
“Bugger off, and I mean that in the nicest possible way...”  
  
“Somehow I doubt it...”  
  
Timothy surveyed the contents of his mug in disgust.  “You've ruined my coffee.”  
  
 “You shouldn’t be smoking anyway,” scoffed Wanda.  “We made a pact years ago, remember?”  
  
“Yes, and you are right, but....”  
  
Wanda looked up at the sky and smiled contentedly, “Ah, those words are music to my ears!”  
  
“You know first-hand how hard it is to quit.  We don’t – notice I say ‘we’ because I’ve caught you, too – fall off the wagon too often.  How about cutting me some slack, pet?”  Timothy gave her his most winning smile.  
  
“I just have. This was your last one. Hope you enjoyed it. We really have to make an effort for our health. Besides - Ben’s quit.”  
  
“I wouldn’t bet any money on that.” Timothy held up the pack of Marlboro Light cigarettes.  “Whose cigarettes do you think we’ve been sneaking?”  
  
Wanda took the pack from Timothy and examined it.  “Ugh!  I knew they didn’t taste right.  All this time I thought they were stale. They’re the bloody low tar ones.”  
  
“I nicked them from him when he was monopolizing our shower during the ‘Hampstead Hot Water Shortage’, which was of his own making,” explained Timothy. “I had an awful craving one afternoon and was too lazy to go down to the News Agent to get some; so I helped myself.”  
  
“Not nice, Tim.  Didn’t Ben notice?”  
  
“No.  I figured since he was using this as a part-time hotel, he might as well leave some sort of gratuity for housekeeping,” smiled Timothy.    
  
“Such an evil man you are, Timothy Cumberbatch; and I love it!”  
  
Wanda put the cigarette pack in her jacket pocket and took Timothy’s mug.  
  
“I’ll get us both a fresh coffee, Love.”  
  
“What about the fags?”  
  
“Not to worry. I’ll find a nice home for them in the trash bin.  I’ll be back in a minute, and you can tell me what Ben had to say.”  
  
  
   
  
“Cheers. Give my love to Mum,” replied Benedict as he rang off.  Donna noticed he turned off his mobile and put it in the front pocket of his jeans.  
  
Benedict raised his mug and smiled at Donna. “So, what shall we drink to?”  
  
“I know!  To my first visit to a pub!” Donna answered happily, as she raised her mug to clink against his.  
  
Benedict Cumberbatch smiled and winked at Donna Saint James.  
  
“To your first pub experience – may it be a fun evening for both of us.”  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. There is a small cafe in the crypt area of Saint Paul’s cathedral, where I had afternoon tea. I can vouch that the lavender shortbread and white apricot elderflower tea were quite delicious. 
> 
> 2\. The ‘David’ Wanda refers to is David Mackensie, who was the director for Asylum. 
> 
> 3\. The Golden Fleece Pub is located on Queen Street in Bank. I have never been inside it, so the description is purely fictional.
> 
> 4\. I read that one orders food and drink at the bar in a pub. Please forgive me if this isn’t correct. I did not have time to visit a pub while in London.
> 
> 5\. For the purpose of this story, we will pretend the barmaid poured two bottles worth of cider into Donna’s mug. I haven’t a clue if they actually would do that or not. 
> 
> 6\. Being a non-smoker, I know nothing of tobacco products or smoking.
> 
> 7\. The Saint Pat’s that Carly refers to is Saint Patrick’s Cathedral in NYC


	45. Chapter 45

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Donna finds out about hard cider the hard way, causing Benedict’s plans for the evening to change. Wanda and Timothy exchange information.

  
Benedict Cumberbatch and Donna Saint James clinked mugs and took a  healthy sip of their drinks.   Benedict smacked his lips and offered his mug to Donna.  
  
“Try some. It’s one of the best British beers around,” he said proudly.  
  
Donna took a sip of the beer and grimaced.

“Ugh!  It’s not cold.”  
  
“Of course not!  We prefer to drink our beer at room temperature here,” said Benedict with a chuckle. “You’ll get used to it. Give it another try,” he said encouragingly.  
  
Donna took another sip and shivered.

“Sorry, but I still think it needs ice.”  
  
“You wouldn’t be able to appreciate it properly with ice, Donna,” mock-scolded Benedict, as he handed Donna one of the menus.  “It’ll only dilute the flavour. What are you drinking?”  
  
“I decided to get apple cider.  Sorry if that makes me a wimp,” she replied, holding out the mug to him. “It’s very good. Would you like to taste it?”  
  
“Yeah,” Benedict took the offered mug and drank some. “Ah, that is very nice indeed. I like the raspberry and black currant mixed with the apple.”  
  
 _Wow! This cider sure does pack a punch. I bet it has more alcohol than my beer._  
  
Donna removed her bottle of hand sanitizer from her bag and automatically squirted some into Benedict’s outstretched palm.  He rubbed his hands together and sniffed.  
  
 _Jesus!  She really does have me trained, doesn’t she?_  
  
“I detect orange and a hint of ginger.  Nice change,” he commented wryly.  
  
“You really do have a good nose for scents,” remarked Donna.  “I’m impressed.”  
  
“The six months I worked in a perfumery pays off again,” he said proudly, handing Donna the menu.  
  
They took a few minutes to peruse the menu, while munching on the crisps.  Benedict was dying to know how her date with James had gone.  
  
 _Let’s see how much she’ll tell me about her date with Jimmy._  
  
 “So, how was dinner last night?” Benedict asked nonchalantly, as he rubbed the back of his neck.  
  
“Nice.  We had Italian takeout and watched some DVDs,” responded Donna offhandedly, eyes fixed on the menu.  
  
 _Nice?  That’s it?  Just nice? I knew she’d be bored!_  
  
“Jimmy has a beautiful apartment....”  
  
 _So, now she’s calls him Jimmy. He must have found out I told her to call me Ben, so he had to jump on the bandwagon.  The little wanker, bless him._  
  
“The view of Regents Park is spectacular. I felt like royalty sitting out on his balcony with my after dinner amaretto.”  
  
“I’m not surprised that you had to take to the balcony. I bet his flat reeked of cigarette smoke.  How on earth did you stand it?”  
  
“Funny...now that you bring it up, I didn’t detect any smoke at all.”  
  
Benedict chuckled.  “He must have given the place a good airing out before you got there because he was smoking in his flat the night I was there.  As a  matter of fact he has ashtrays scattered all over the place.”  
  
Donna looked up at Benedict, who had been watching her closely.  He smiled sheepishly at her and put his head down, pretending to study the menu.  
  
 _Okay, Benedict.  Enough questioning.  This is all I’m telling you._  
  
“How about sharing some small plates?” suggested Donna, deftly changing the subject.  She drank some cider to wash down the potato chips.  
   
 _This is really good cider.  So refreshing and fruity!_  
  
 _She’s drinking that cider as if it were water._  
  
Benedict nodded as he scanned the menu. “If we get four plates, they throw in an order of chips.”  
  
“Great.  How about we each pick two plates?  You go first.”  
  
“Alright then.  The scotch egg and the potted duck with cornichons and toast. Which do you fancy?”  
  
“Shepherds pie fritters and the prawns with chili, garlic and olive oil,” replied Donna. “I saw the prawns on another table when we came in, and they look scrumptious.”  
  
Benedict got up.  “I’ll go place the order.  Be back in a few minutes.”  
  
“Fine.  I’ll catch up on my phone messages,” said Donna as she drank some more cider.  
  
 _Christ! For someone who’s not a drinker, she’s just about gone through that pint.  I’d best get her some water to drink in between._  
  
“Shall I get you another cider while I’m up there?”  
  
Donna looked at her mug, which was less than half full.

“Yes, please. You know how thirsty I always get, especially with salty chips and French fries.”  
  
  
  
  
By the time Benedict returned to the table, Donna had finished her cider.  He had two mugs in each of his large hands.  He placed one of cider and one of still water in front of her. She noted he had another pint of beer and water for himself. Benedict sat down and pushed his cardigan sleeves up over his elbows before helping himself to some crisps.    
  
“Food’s been ordered.  The server will bring it around in a bit.”  
  
Donna took a sip of the fresh mug of cider.  
  
 _I wish I could ship some of this home for Thanksgiving.  I think this would be a nice change from the plain cider that Mom serves every year. The kids would certainly get a kick out of the bubbles._  
  
“Mmmm...this is _really_ tasty.  I’ve got to buy some to keep at home.”  
  
Benedict drank some beer and ate a couple of crisps.  Donna was listening to the music and bobbing her head while sipping her cider.    
  
 _Last night I  had a dream that Donna and I were married.  We were having a picnic on the Heath with our two children. We were having such a glorious time and then Donna surprised me with the news that she was pregnant again._  
  
 _It was such a good idea to come here! Too bad they don’t have live music and dancing here.  I’d love to dance_ , thought Donna.    
  
“Do you like to dance, Benedict?”  
  
Benedict nodded.  “Yeah.  I adore dancing.”  
  
“How about going to a dance club when you get back from filming?”  
  
“That would be brilliant!  We’ll make plans for the first Saturday night I’m back from filming.”  
  
 _I bet he’s a good dancer.  He’s got the body for it.  I could just see him out on the dance floor, shaking that gorgeous butt of his and swiveling those hips._

  
Benedict circled the rim of his mug with his index finger as he watched Donna.  
  
 _I really wish I knew what her actual views are when it comes to settling down and having children. I know she’s fond of them, but sometimes people don’t want children of their own. I’ve been so damn broody lately, and my impatience is starting to get the best of me. Dad cautioned me about bringing the topic up too soon, but I don’t want to waste my time with someone who doesn’t share the same goals as I do. I need to know how Donna feels._  
  
Benedict took a deep breath and smiled at Donna.

She smiled back at him.  
  
“So, where do you see yourself ten years from now?” he asked as he rubbed the back of his neck.  
  
Donna’s smile slowly faded as she regarded him with narrowed eyes.  There was a slight frown on her pretty face.  She felt as if he had thrown a bucket of water on her.  
  
 _Holy cow!  The famous where-do- you- see- yourself- in- ten- years question finally rears its ugly head.  Why do guys love to ask that question? They always find a way to sneak it into the conversation.  I hate being put on the spot like this. I think I need to turn the table on him._  
  
 _She doesn’t look happy that I asked that question, thought Benedict miserably. Why didn’t I take Dad’s advice and let it be? Because I’m an impatient dolt._  
  
Donna pursed her lips.  “Oh, Benedict, I’m not overly fond of being put on the spot like this. How about _you_ go first and tell me where _you_ see yourself in ten years?” she challenged.  
  
 _This will buy me some time to think of a good, yet honest response._  
  
Benedict surprised her as he responded immediately.

“Personally, I see myself happily married to the love of my life, living in Hampstead in a beautiful home with lots of windows, a large garden and a roof terrace with a view of London. My home will be filled with love and children. Professionally, I hope to carve out a niche for myself as a successful actor with a variety of challenging and interesting work. Your turn.”  
  
 _My God that was quick.  Well, I can’t fault the man for knowing exactly what he wants out of life._  
  
Donna cleared her throat.

“Okay. I also see myself married with a family....”  
  
 _So far, so good!_ thought Benedict happily.  
  
“.....I’d definitely hope to have a Disney Vacation Club membership.”  
  
 _What the fuck? Does this mean that’s the only place she wants to go on holiday? I’d rather try and see as much of the world as I can. I’m not going to worry about that right now.  That can be negotiated._  
  
“...... I definitely see myself with one of those cute little fluffy dogs....”  
  
 _I’d love to have a dog if I had the space and time to take care of one.  However, I’d like a large dog that the kids and I could romp with on the Heath. I suppose if we had a large house, we could compromise with two._  
  
“...and working at the New York Times as the editor of their Sunday Leisure Section alongside my dad, who would surely be promoted to Editor-in-Chief by then.”  
  
 _Fuck.  Everything was dandy until we got to the living in New York part._  
  
Benedict felt he stomach twist in knots.  He had never considered the option that Donna would want to return to New York permanently.  
  
 _Why am I so surprised?  She’s an American.  Of course, she would want to live in her mother country. I just need to know if she really means that._  
  
“Would you _ever_ consider residing anywhere else?” he asked timidly, while rubbing his thigh.  “I mean if you met someone here, who had their work here and either couldn’t or wouldn’t want to relocate to the States? Would that be a problem?”  
  
 _Oh, oh. There’s some serious thigh rubbing going on under the table.  He’s very nervous. We really are getting into something serious here.  He’s talking about us.  I wish my heart would stop fluttering and my head felt clearer.  He looks so vulnerable. I’m going to continue to be totally honest with him._  
  
“If my husband’s work were elsewhere; and he couldn’t or was totally opposed to relocating to New York permanently, then yes, I suppose I would if it were the only way we could have a life together....”  
  
 _Excellent! She’s such an understanding woman!_  
  
“... and as long as we could make regular visits to my family and they to us....”  
  
 _I’m sure I’ll get along with her family. She’s such a lovely person, there’s no reason to think they would be anything less. I will make sure that any house we buy will have a guest room._  
  
“We can go whenever you want, and my in-laws would always be welcome in our home.”  
  
“.....I also would _never_ give up my US citizenship.”  
  
“I would _never_ ask or _expect_ you to!” blurted out Benedict.    
  
Donna looked startled.    
  
 _What the fuck did I just say to her?  My mouth filter must be out of order tonight._  
  
 _Oh, oh. Look at his face.  He realizes he shouldn’t have said all that,_ thought Donna. _That question always causes too much dancing around, and boy, we just did some tango. I’m exhausted._  
  
“Actually, I expected you to say that you envisioned yourself as a rich and famous actor with a mantel full of awards in your living room,” mused Donna.  
  
Benedict blushed.  “As long as I have interesting work that continues to challenge me and allows me to grow as an actor, I’d be satisfied to be able to just live comfortably. I don’t need the trappings of a celebrity to be happy. Fame isn’t important to me.”    
  
Donna reached out and squeezed his hand.

“I think we both got our answers to questions that have been milling about in our heads.  Let’s just continue as we were and see where life takes us.”  
  
Benedict had downed a good portion of his beer to steady his nerves. He smiled and nodded gratefully at her.

“Thank you for your honest answer, Donna.  I appreciate it.”  
  
That was when the affects of the alcoholic cider suddenly began to really kick in for an unsuspecting Donna, who was still under the impression that she was drinking non-alcoholic cider.  
  
“You have foam on your lips!” Donna pointed out with a giggle. “If we were alone, I’d lick it off you,” she teased, batting her eyelashes at him.    
  
 _Gosh, two sips of beer; and I’m feeling awfully brave and flirty.  Good thing I didn’t get a beer for myself or I’d be all over him._  
  
Benedict reached for his napkin, as he regarded her with a raised eyebrow.  
  
“You really _are_ such a naughty girl, Donna.  Someday I’m going to make sure you follow through on one of your wicked comments.  Then you’ll think twice about flirting with me so shamelessly in public.”  
  
Donna reached across the table, wiped some of the foam off his lips with her index finger and sucked it off.

“Somehow I doubt it,” she said smugly.    
  
“Doubt what?  That I’d follow through or that you’d think twice before opening that gorgeous mouth of yours?”  
  
“The latter,” Donna laughed, as she took her napkin and leaned across the table again to blot his lips.  “I just can’t help myself sometimes.  It’s like my mouth has a mind of its own.”  
  
 _I wish he really would follow through for once!  I think I’m ready to do more than just kiss and do some touching through clothing. I wish I weren’t so giddy!_  
  
Donna gave him a mock pout.

“Actually, it’s _your_ fault for having such sexy lips, Benedict.”  
  
 _I cannot wait to go back to her place.  I’ve got plans for that white leather chaise lounge, but first we’re going to have a serious talk._  
  
“Erm....I was wondering. When we go back to your flat..... if we could have a bit of a serious talk,” began Benedict a bit hesitantly.  
  
Donna looked up from the potato chip basket with alarm in her eyes.

“Is there anything wrong?”  
  
“Oh no.  No.  Nothing’s wrong.  Everything is fine. _Really_.  I just want to talk is all.”  
  
 _Now what in the hell is that supposed to mean?   He wants to have a serious talk about what?_  
  
“Well, do you think you could elaborate just a bit?” asked Donna with a frown and slight burp. “Excuse me. You know, Ben, I find the word ‘serious’ a bit upsetting.”     
  
Benedict shook his head.  “Nope.  This is not the kind of thing that I wish to discuss in public.”  
  
 _I wonder if he’s going to ask if he can spend the night? I bet that’s it!  He’s finally going to make his move.  Finally, my condoms will get some use! Unless, he doesn’t want to go out with me any longer because of what happened with James. That would just crush me. I thought things were going so well._  
  
Benedict noticed that tears had suddenly begun to form in her eyes.  
  
 _What in the hell did I say?  She looks like she’s going to cry. She must think I don’t want to see her anymore._  
  
A server walked up to their table, carrying a large tray of food.  
  
“Hi!  How is everyone tonight?”  
  
 _Hungry,_ thought Benedict. _And please for fuck’s sake, just leave the food and us alone quickly. I have a melt-down to avert._  
  
“Ravenous,” he replied with a fake smile.  
  
“Fine,” said Donna in a small voice that was barely audible. 

Benedict noticed that she appeared to be upset.  
  
 _Bollocks!  I’ve upset her.  I didn’t mean to._  
  
The server began to set the plates on the table, taking time to briefly identify each one as he set it down.  
  
“Scotch egg, chips, prawns, shepherds pie, potted duck.”  
  
 _Brilliant! Now be gone,_ thought Benedict.  _I need to assure her nothing’s wrong._  
  
“Oh, and before I forget, here’s some ketchup for the lady,”  said the server, placing a small stainless steel cup of ketchup in front of Donna. Benedict watched as a tear fell from her eye, rolled down her cheek and into the ketchup.  
  
 _That Benedict is so considerate.  He knows I like ketchup with my French fries. I wish I didn’t want to cry...I don’t know why I do?  I just wish he’d tell me what he wants to talk about. Can it get more serious than talking about the future? I just wish my thoughts weren’t so fuzzy right now.  I vow never to touch beer again._  
  
Once the server was out of earshot, Benedict sighed with relief.  He looked deep into her hazel eyes and wiped a tear off her cheek with his thumb.  
  
“Donna, I give you my word that I don’t have anything bad to tell you. I would _never_ wait until after we’ve shared a pleasant evening together. It’s all good. Promise.”  
  
Donna smiled and nodded, feeling relieved.

“I believe you.  Boy, am I hungry. I only had some cake for lunch and a yogurt.”  
  
“Now, this is what the server at the Grand Imperial should have done. Drop it and leave. We’re fully capable of sorting out what we ordered.”  
  
Donna helped herself to a bit of everything, as did Benedict.  She put down the plate of chips and shook her finger at him.  
  
“Shame on you, Benedict.  Aren’t you in the least bit interested in where your food is sourced from or how it’s prepared?”  
  
Benedict gazed up at the ceiling, pretending to seriously consider her question for a minute.  
  
“Erm...Nope.  Not in the slightest.”  
  
“You’re teasing me!”  
  
“I don’t wish to be regaled with every last detail of where the food came from, how it was prepared or what the credentials are of who cooked it. I can get most of that information just from reading the menu descriptions.  I don’t need someone to rehash it.”  
  
Donna hiccuped, drank some cider and fixed Benedict with a look.  
  
“ _Really_?  That’s hard to believe coming from such a mutually inquisitive person such as yourself. I would think you would find it fascinating hearing all about the dishes you were going to consume.”  
  
Benedict sprinkled his chips with some salt and malt vinegar.

“Frankly, I don’t give a piss if this salt was sourced from Tesco.”  The corners of his mouth threatened to turn up into a grin.  
  
“Well, I love hearing all about the food,” said Donna, as she bit into a shepherds pie fritter.  
  
“That’s because it’s your job,” countered Benedict, spreading some of the potted duck onto a toast point. “Mmm...luscious!” he rolled his eyes back as he savoured the duck.  
  
“I really find it hard to believe that you don’t care about what you put in your mouth.  I care very much about what goes into mine.”  
  
Benedict fixed her with a meaningful look.

“I care very much about what goes into _my_ mouth....and _yours_.”    
  
 _Is he talking about oral sex? Crap, my head feels so woozy – I bet it was that taste of his beer.  He has to be hinting – I know he was the other night when we were on Skype.  We both were dancing around the topic.  That’s what he wants to talk about!  He wants to have oral sex._  
  
Donna stared at Benedict while he ate some Scotch egg.  Finally, he met her gaze with a twinkle in his eyes. She noticed that his eyes looked very green in the pub lighting.  
  
“You’re right, Donna. I was teasing you. I do find all that information interesting, except when I’m starving and my food is in jeopardy of getting cold while they prattle on.”  
  
“Ha ha ha!  You really had me going there!” she giggled and drank some more cider.   “I think I know what you want to talk about later....and it might be okay with me.  I’ll have to think about it a bit.”  Donna winked at him and stifled a burp.  “Oh, my!  Excuse me. All the carbonation is catching up with me!”  She giggled some more, burped loudly and clapped her hand over her mouth.  
  
 _Why can’t I stop giggling? It’s like someone else has taken over my body...._  
  
 _Holy shit! I think Miss Saint James is getting pissed on all that cider she’s been drinking, thought Benedict. You would think she was drinking water._  
  
“I have a strong feeling that we’re not talking about the same thing...” began Benedict, pushing the glass of water towards her. "Have some water."  
  
Donna leaned across the table and leered at him as he drank some beer.  
  
“You’re going to ask me to go down on you tonight, aren’t you?”  
  
Benedict choked and spewed beer on the table.  He flushed and coughed as he tried to compose himself.  
  
 _Jesus fucking Christ!  Did I just hear her correctly?  She wants to give me a blow job later?_  
  
Benedict coughed to clear his throat and began to sputter.  
  
“Well....I’m....I’m...I’m at a loss for words.....Erm....”  
  
“Now, _this_ is a first!” Donna cackled.  “Never thought I’d see the day when _you_ were at a loss for words.”  
  
 _No. Don’t raise your hopes or your prick,_ Benedict. _This is the liquor talking, not Donna.  She would never act like this normally._  
  
She took his large hand in hers and drew lazy circles in his palm.

“If you play your cards right, I’ll let you go down on me, too.”        
  
 _Okay. Now, this is definitely the cider talking.  She would never be this brazen – it’s too soon in our relationship to be discussing fellatio and cunnilingus over dinner._  
  
“Donna, I’m flattered by your offer; but that wasn’t what I was referring to.  There is something else we need to sort out before we can embark on a physical relationship.”  
  
 _I can’t believe I’m saying this.  I’ve dreamed about this so many times, and now I’m the one saying not yet,_ thought Benedict sadly.  _But it’s the right thing to do. It would just be too easy. I absolutely will not take advantage of her._  
  
Donna jerked her hand away and sniffed. She looked as if she were about to cry.

“You don’t want me?”  
  
“For fuck’s sake!  Of course I want you....more than anything.  The timing is just wrong,” said Benedict in a low voice.  “Can we please talk later in private or maybe tomorrow would be better?”  
  
Donna banged the table with her fist, causing the plates and cutlery to clatter.  The couple directly across from them looked over.

“Then what _do_ you want to talk about? You’re making me crazy, Benedict! I hate not knowing!”  
  
“Our relationship and where it’s going,” Benedict blurted out.  “I can’t stand not knowing for sure where I stand in your life...in your heart.”  
  
 _Well done me.  I had to open my big mouth.  I need to turn my mouth filter on before we wind up having the conversation now.  She’s not sober right now, and she’s getting loud. We’re starting to draw attention to ourselves._  
  
“Are you starting to sing that song again, Bene..Ben....do your parents realize just how long your damn name is?”  Donna paused as she counted off the letters on her fingers.  “Eight freaking letters to write every time you sign something. It must be a bitch when you write out Christmas cards.....”  
  
“I really don’t do that many cards.”  
  
“Can you imagine what it would be like having to sign your _whole_ name if you become famous and have to sign autographs?  That’s nineteen freaking letters!  Hell, I’d just sign BC and be done with it,” she laughed, slapping her thigh.  
  
“I’ll worry about it when and if it ever happens,” Benedict scoffed.  
  
“You know I thought you were going to leave me alone to make up my own mind about who I want to be with!  Stop badgering me!” Donna said testily.  “I want you to just be quiet now and not say anything – okay?”  
  
 _Okay.  She went from a giggling drunk to a nasty one.  I’ll just shut up for  now.  I think I’ll keep to the one pint.  If I drink the other, I’ll get pissed.  We both don’t need to be pissed. That will only guarantee that we’ll wind up in bed._  
  
Donna raised her mug to Benedict.

“To the sounds of silence!” 

She lifted the mug to her lips and drained the contents.  Then she burped and giggled as she covered her mouth.

“Shit!  So, so, so, so, so sorry, Bene...dick. I meant to say ‘dict’. You’re definitely not a dick...I mean you have one, and I’m sure it’s a nice one....”  
  
“It’s fine.”  
  
Donna smiled widely at him and looked pointedly under the table at his crotch.  
  
 _Next she’ll be asking how big my dick actually is._  
  
Benedict sighed.  
  
“I meant it’s fine if you feel the need to belch, Donna.  We all do it.”  
  
“Hey!  Listen!  They’re playing that old Simon and Garfunkel song _‘Sounds of Silence’_? It was from the sixties, I think.”  
  
“Yeah,  I remember the song,” replied Benedict.  
  
Donna began to sing along softly:  
  
 **“Hello darkness, my old friend**  
 **I've come to talk with you again**  
 **Because a vision softly creeping**  
 **Left its seeds while I was sleeping**  
 **And the vision that was planted in my brain**  
 **Still remains**  
 **Within the sound of silence”**  
  
 _My God!  She has a beautiful voice – I had no idea she could sing!_  
  
“You have a lovely voice, Donna. Maybe you could finish the song for me at your place....”  
  
Donna kept singing away as if he weren’t there. She was getting louder:  
  
 **“In restless dreams I walked alone**  
 **Narrow streets of cobblestone**  
 **'Neath the halo of a street lamp**  
 **I turned my collar to the cold and damp**  
 **When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light**  
 **That split the night**  
 **And touched the sound of silence”**  
  
 _This is not good.  For someone who wanted silence, she’s getting pretty loud._ Benedict rubbed the back of his neck and looked around to see if anyone was paying attention to them.  So far, only the two couples directly across from them were watching. _Thank God it’s loud in here._    
  
 **“And in the naked light I saw**  
 **Ten thousand people, maybe more**  
 **People talking without speaking**  
 **People hearing without listening**  
 **People writing songs that voices never share**  
 **And no one dared**  
 **Disturb the sound of silence”**  
  
“Ready to leave, Donna?” asked Benedict, as he started to get up and held his hand out to her to help her out of the booth.  “I know I am.”  
  
Benedict noticed that Donna’s loud singing had now captured the attention of all those around them.  Everyone was smiling and seeming to enjoy Donna’s impromptu performance.  
  
 _Jesus!  They must think she’s part of the fucking entertainment or they realize she’s shit-faced and are enjoying my discomfort. I’ll know for sure if they start dropping gratuities on the table._  
  
 **"Fools", said I, "You do not know**  
 **Silence like a cancer grows**  
 **Hear my words that I might teach you**  
 **Take my arms that I might reach you"**  
 **But my words, like silent raindrops fell**  
 **And echoed**  
 **In the wells of silence”**  
  
 _Fuck me! I feel like a complete fool standing here with my bloody hand extended. I wish she’d hear my words and take my damn hand. I need to get her out of here now, but it doesn’t look like the human juke box is going to stop until the song is over._  
  
“How about a coffee?  I can make us a pot at your place, and you can sing for me,” Benedict tried one last time, sitting down beside her.  “Or we could get pudding somewhere. How about one of those spicy ice cream bars in Notting Hill that you’re so fond of?”  
  
 _Please God, just let us get out of here before we attract any more attention! Isn’t this motherfucking song going to be over soon? How many bloody lyrics did Paul Simon write for God’s fucking sake?_  
  
 **“And the people bowed and prayed**  
 **To the neon god they made**  
 **And the sign flashed out its warning**  
 **In the words that it was forming**  
 **And the sign said, "The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls**  
 **And tenement halls"**  
 **And whispered in the sounds of silence”**  
  
 _Finally!_   thought Benedict in relief.  _And now we can make a quick exit._  
  
“Come on, Donna.  Time to get you home!”  
  
Suddenly, everyone around them burst into a round of applause for Donna. A couple of guys even whistled.    
  
“Ooooo, Ben!  They liked my singing!”  
  
Donna jumped up on the seat of the booth, smiled proudly and took a bow. She swayed alarmingly on her high heels. Benedict quickly pulled her back down onto the seat.    
  
“Oh my, that was _so_ much fun!” exclaimed Donna.  “I could just sing _all_ night long!"

_I have absolutely no doubt that you could, but not on my watch!_

Donna giggled furiously as the next song came on, which was _All Night Long_. "Hey!  Listen to that! What a coincidence - the radio is reading my mind...."

"It's really not, Donna. Trust me on this."

"Isn't _All Night Long_ that song Lionel Ritchie made famous?  I know that one, too. Wanna hear it?"  
  
“They don’t really do karaoke here,” explained Benedict quietly.  “It’s just meant to be background music.  So! Are you ready to go then?” he asked hopefully.  
  
Donna regarded him with a puzzled expression.

“What about my coffee?  You offered to get me coffee and dessert.  Doesn’t the offer still stand?”  
  
“Of course it does,” replied Benedict, running his hand through his hair.  “I thought we could have it at your place...you know...we can spend some quiet time together.”  
  
Donna leaned against him and gazed up into his beautiful eyes.

“Your eyes look sooooo green tonight.  Like cats eyes. Meeeooooowwwww.”

She rubbed up against him like a cat and purred softly.  
  
Benedict looked at her with pleading eyes, while crinkling his nose at her.  
  
“We can take our time at your place....and...erm...and relax and enjoy each others company...in privacy.”  
  
Donna guffawed and lightly slapped his chest.

“Oh, you are _really_ anxious for me to go down on you, aren’t you?” she asked in a loud voice. "You horny little devil!"  She giggled uncontrollably.  
  
Before Benedict knew what had happened, Donna had grabbed his shirt with both hands and pulled him down to give him a hard, wet kiss that ended with her sucking on his tongue.  
  
“My poor horny Benedict! You must be patient. You don’t get _anything_ until after I’ve had my coffee and dessert – _here_.”  
  
Benedict cleared his throat and rubbed his thigh furiously.  He took the small dessert menu and slapped it on the table in front of Donna, who blinked, then squinted at it.  
  
“Which of the puddings do you fancy, Donna?” Benedict asked impatiently.  
  
Donna picked up the menu, trying hard to focus.  It took her less than a minute to decide.  
  
“Let’s see.  Oh! The dark chocolate and hazelnut brownie, with white chocolate sauce and banana ice cream sounds divine!  Let’s share that.”  
  
Benedict felt her hand lightly ghost over his crotch.  He could feel the familiar tightening in his nether region begin and tried to will it away as best he could.    
  
 _Fuck me!  Why now? Why when she’s totally off her face does she offer to rock my world? And in public no less!  Let me get the motherfucking coffee and pudding and be done with it!_  
  
“I’ll go place the order now. I’ll be right back with the coffee,” said Benedict as he got to his feet. 

_I’m willing to bet she takes her coffee the same way I do._

“Cream with two demerara sugars, right?”  
  
Donna nodded. 

_We’ve never drank coffee together before, how did he know how I take it?_  
  
To Benedict’s dismay, Donna then reached across the table and helped herself to Benedict’s untouched second beer.  
  
“No sense in letting this go to waste!”  
  
He watched in horror as she added ice to it and took a long swallow.  
  
“Oh, much, much better!” she proclaimed smacking her lips.    
  
 _I’d better get that fucking coffee into her as fast as I can. She needs to drink more water, so she won’t get dehydrated._  
  
“See you in a minute,” said Benedict, as he started to walk towards the bar. He turned to look at her. “Please try and drink some water rather than the beer.”  
   
“I’ll be right here, waiting for you and your gorgeous ass,” said Donna seductively, blowing him a kiss.  “I might even give it a little squeeze when you come back.”  
  
“I’ll be back as fast as I can, Donna.”  
  
“Benedict! You're such a wicked man...I know you love having your butt squeezed. Maybe you should fix your hard-on first so nobody notices it,” she loudly called out after him.  
  
 _I might be better served, if lightening were to just strike me now,_ thought Benedict as he glanced down and was thankful his shirt was long enough to cover his crotch area.  
  
  
  
  
Unfortunately, Benedict found quite a crowd at the bar.  After waiting not-so-patiently, he ordered the pudding and got two mugs of coffee with cream and two demerara sugars.  He quickly made his way back to the booth and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw that Donna was gone.  
  
 _Where in fucking hell did she go?_  
  
Benedict peered into Donna’s side of the booth and saw that her handbag was missing.  He felt panic beginning to well up inside as he put down the hot coffees.  He rubbed the back of his neck frantically, while looking about the dining room.  
  
 _Maybe she went to the loo, or maybe she just left and headed home.  I can’t have her wandering around London at night off her face like that.  God knows what could happen to her....._    
  
Benedict jumped when a hand squeezed his left butt cheek.  He whirled around to see Donna stretched out on the bench on his side of the booth, using her handbag for a pillow. She smiled up at him lazily.  
  
“Ha ha ha!  I bet you thought I left!”  
  
“The thought did cross my mind,” Benedict said with relief.  His knees felt weak, and he sat down heavily opposite her.  He peered at her under the table. "Why are you lying down? Do you feel sick?"  
  
“I had to pee - really a lot! I won't sit on the seat because of the germs, but you don't have that problem because you stand when you pee - right?"

Benedict nodded.  "Yep, I stand.  It's easier I suppose."

"You shake your dick when you're done - right?"

Benedict nodded. "Yep."

"Have you ever considered blotting the tip of your dick with toilet paper instead?"

"I can't say that I have...."

"You really should think about doing that, Ben. Much neater than shaking I would think."

Benedict sighed. "I'll take your suggestion under consideration the next time I have to use the loo."

"I squat, but I kept losing my balance, so I got a bunch of paper towels to cover the seat because I couldn't get my seat covers unfolded...."

_Jesus Christ! Do we really need to know about each others bathroom habits?_

"Hey Ben!  Guess what happened when I was done?"

"Did you...erm...try and flush the kitchen towels and flood the loo?"

"How did you know!?!" she shrieked with laughter. "I think you must be psychic, Ben!"

"No, it was just a wild guess."

"Shhhhh....don't tell anyone, but when I flushed the toilet the fucking paper towels wouldn't go down!  I kept flushing, but the water just kept rising. Finally, the water came up and over the toilet - it's all over the floor! What a fucking mess in there! You should have heard all the other ladies scream when the water was running all over the floor...they were jumping around trying not to get their shoes wet. ......Oh my God!  It was soooo freaking funny!"

"It will remain our secret. Now, let's go home."

"But I didn't finish answering your question and we didn't have our pudding yet...."

_Holy shit!  Is this how I sound when they say I'm waffling?_

"So, I ran out of the bathroom and lost one of my shoes!  The lady over there with the too tight jeans....."  Donna pointed to a woman sitting three tables away. "She picked it up and tried to give it to me, but I thought she was coming after me because I flooded the toilet so I ran back here to hide in the booth."

"And?"

"Well, what do you think?"

"My idea well has run dry, I'm afraid."

"I ducked in here on your side and waited, but nothing happened.  I don't know where my shoe is."

Benedict raised his head to look around and saw her shoe on the table. "Here it is.  She left it here for you."  He took it and handed it to Donna under the table.

_I'm so glad I was at the bar and missed all the excitement._

"So, you can imagine after all that I started feeling so very, very sleepy.....that I thought I would just lie down here and rest my eyes for a minute,” she yawned. “I wanted to be on your side of the booth, so I would feel close to you while you were gone.”  
  
 _Jesus fucking Christ!  I’m having a conversation with her under the table. How bloody weird must this look? I have to get her out of here. Maybe I should get the server to pack up the pudding._  
  
The server appeared with their pudding and placed it on the table.  He started when he noticed Donna lying on the bench seat and looked at Benedict with a concerned expression.  
  
“Is she alright, Mate?” he asked hesitantly.  
  
Benedict nodded.  “She’s not used to drinking. Could we have the pudding wrapped up to takeaway?”  
  
“OH NO!  Not on your freaking life!  The ice cream will melt!” exclaimed Donna, as she popped up into a sitting position, nearly giving both the server and Benedict a heart attack. “There’s nothing worse than melted ice cream,” she added seriously.  
  
Benedict smiled thinly at the server.

“I guess we won’t be needing the takeaway after all.”  
  
He watched as Donna attacked the pudding with gusto.  “This is delicious – have some!”  She held out her spoon to give Benedict some.  He opened his mouth so she could feed him.  
  
“Mmm...You’re right! It’s ridiculously good,”  he said picking up his own spoon.  
  
They spent the next few minutes drinking their coffee and eating the luscious dessert. Finally, Benedict laid down his spoon, leaving Donna to finish off the warm white chocolate sauce.  
  
“As soon as you’re done with that, I’m calling a cab and taking you home to bed.”  
  
Donna Saint James paused from licking the chocolate sauce off her spoon and grinned at Benedict Cumberbatch.  She plunked the spoon down, picked up her bag and got out of the booth on unsteady feet.  
  
“The hell with the dessert. I’d much rather eat you than chocolate sauce.”  
  
  
  
  
  
“Here we are!” said Wanda as she came out onto the balcony with two mugs of steaming coffee.  She placed one in front of Timothy and sat on the chair opposite him.  
  
“Thank you, Love.  I do make superb coffee, even if I must say so myself,” commented Timothy, smacking his lips.  “What did the doctor say?”  
  
“My blood pressure is down and my blood work was in the acceptable range for a person of my advanced years.  In two words: still alive,” she replied with a laugh.  
  
“Glad to here it.  I want you around for a long time,” smiled Timothy.    
  
“And I want me to be around, too.  That’s why we’re stopping the smoking once and for all.”  
  
Timothy rolled his eyes.  “Lord, how I hate to say it...”  
  
“Wait!” Wanda grinned and cupped her hand around her ear.  “Go ahead.  Say it!”  
  
Timothy sipped his coffee and sighed softly.  “You’re right, Wanda.”  
  
“Oh, how I _do_ love to hear you say those words!” she exclaimed, placing a hand over her heart.  “I may just swoon.”  
  
“Now you know what a thrill it is for _me_ to hear those words coming from _you_ ,” he chuckled.  “We should think about dinner, I suppose.  Do you fancy going out?”  
  
Wanda shook her head.  “I’ve got a tuna casserole heating in the oven.”  
  
“How very seventies,” quipped Timothy. “You haven’t made one of those in quite awhile.”  
  
“Coupled with iceberg lettuce and salad cream..."

"Reminds me of the dinners you made when we first got together."

"I was known as the 'Casserole Queen of Kensington' back then.  Just consider it my salute to retro,” joked Wanda.  “The real reason is that it was easy to throw together before I left this morning.”  
  
“I’m sure it will be delicious. Not every man can boast that his wife cooks like a restaurant chef.”  
  
“That’s what I love about you, Tim.  You’ve always been so easy to please.”  
  
Timothy took her hand and kissed it.

“And you can find out first hand just how easy I am after dinner.”  He looked into her ice blue eyes and waggled his eyebrows.  
  
“Still feeling feisty are we? I do love it when you’re randy. I’m a lucky woman to have you in my life.”  
  
Timothy drank some more coffee.

“You’re making me blush, Wanda.”  
  
“Okay.  We can talk about something else.”  
  
 _Why do I think changing the topic was a bad idea?_  
  
“What did Ben have to say?”  
  
 _This is why.  Shit.  What and how much to tell her?_  
  
“Oh, not much really.  He’s done with his part of the filming and ready to go onto the next thing.  The Miss Marple episode.”  
  
Wanda frowned.  “Sounded to me like you were making plans to meet him.”  
  
 _She has such excellent hearing, bless her. Just like Benedict.  Now, how much should I tell her?  I don’t want to turn this into a circus, yet I am her partner in crime.  I promised Benedict I wouldn’t say anything, but she does know about the restaurant bird._  
  
The couple looked at each other and sipped their coffee. Timothy was feeling torn.  
  
 _Who does my loyalty lie with?  My wife and partner or my son? That is the question. For fuck’s sake! I sound like Hamlet. I wonder if Shakespeare had such problems with his family?_  
  
 _He’s not saying anything.  I know he heard me.  Benedict obviously has something on his mind and needs to confide in Tim.  Maybe I’ll tell him what I got out of Adam today and that will encourage him to talk....or I’ll get a lecture on the importance of not quizzing our son’s adult friends._  
  
Timothy kept watch over the street, which was empty.    
  
 _I need more time to think.  Let me ask her more about her day._  
  
“I trust everything went well with the table read then?”  
  
“Yes, even though we didn’t get too far. Joss and Ian send their best,” replied Wanda. _This could be an opening._

  
“And tell them likewise tomorrow,” said Timothy.    
  
They sat and looked at each other while continuing to sip their coffee.  
  
“You do make an excellent coffee, Tim. Better than Starbucks.”  
  
“Thank you, Darling. I’ve been thinking of applying to Starbucks for part time work. I can show them how it’s done.”  
  
“Oh, bloody hell!  This is so damn awkward!” said Wanda, putting down her mug.  “I suspect you’re grappling with whether to tell me something or not, Timothy Cumberbatch.”  
  
“And I sense the same from you, Pet.”  
  
Wanda pushed her sleeves up over her elbows.

“Alright, but hear me out first, before you come down on me......”  
  
“I prefer it when you go down on me first,” smirked Timothy.  
  
“Very funny.  I really do need to talk to your agent about getting you on Graham Norton.  I think you’ll be surprised that I actually have quite a bit to report.”  
  
 _Nothing surprises me when you’re in Barrister Betty mode_ , thought Timothy.  
  
“While we were waiting to hear about getting another rehearsal hall, I joined Joss and Adam for a coffee at Paul’s in Paternoster Square.”  
  
 _The scene for the interrogation has been set._  
  
“We were just chatting when Adam thanked me for the photos of him at his wedding....”  
  
 _And then an idea was born. Poor unsuspecting Adam._  
  
“And I got to thinking....”  
  
 _And that’s when the trouble always starts – when they think._  
  
“.....Adam’s Benedict’s best mate, and they must confide in each other...”  
  
 _Oh, I suddenly see where the train is headed._  
  
“...so, Adam would definitely know about any birds Ben’s been dating.”  
  
 _Yes!  I was right. I’m sure the poor sod didn’t even see the Wanda Express coming down the tracks._  
  
“I hope to God you were gentle with him, Wanda.  You can be pretty brash once you start ...gathering information. Did you opt for straight interrogation or cat and mouse?”  
  
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Tim! You make me sound like Mata Hari!” scoffed Wanda.  
  
Timothy continued to smirk at her over the rim of his mug.  _I knew we were watching too many Avenger episodes back in the sixties._  
  
“Please continue, Mrs. Peel,” said Timothy waving his hand at her.  
  
Wanda threw up her hands in defeat.

“There’s no hiding from you, Steed.  I used the cat and mouse technique.  And let me tell you that Adam was more than up to playing with me, bless him.  He was being quite cheeky, but I got the best of him....”  
  
 _Of that I have no doubt, my love. Adam had no idea what he was up against. The Wanda Express cannot be derailed once it’s left the station._  
  
“Tim, you should have been there – by the time I was done, he was a bit rattled....”  
  
“Somehow I doubt he was a bit rattled,” smirked Timothy, as he sat patiently and listened to Wanda further regale him with the conversation as it unfolded.  
  
  
 

  
“What do you think?” Wanda asked when she was done.  
  
 _The Wanda Express rolled right over him and then backed up for good measure._  
  
“I think Adam probably could have used a good, stiff drink after that.  I also think our son is definitely serious about the restaurant bird, whose name begins with a D and has a good job.”  
  
“There’s more,” laughed Wanda.  
  
“ _More_?  I say, you did have an eventful day?”  
  
“I spoke with Donna Saint James today to confirm Saturday.”  
  
“All’s set with that then?”  
  
“Yes, though sometimes I wonder about her – you know, whether she’s really right for our Benedict.”  
  
“Why the sudden change in tune?”  
  
“Well, it’s just that she did the strangest thing this morning...” began Wanda.  
  
  
  
  
  
Timothy and Wanda sat laughing after she had finished her story about Donna and the sandwich board and what had transpired in Carldonn afterwards.  Timothy wiped his eyes on his sleeve to stop the tears from rolling down his face.  
  
“Good Lord!  I can’t believe that!  Now, I see what you mean about her,” Timothy said.    
  
“It’s funny when you’re watching her do something wacky like that, but when it’s done to you, it’s a whole other matter,” said Wanda.  “I really do like her, Tim; and I know she’d get along famously with Ben; but I’d hate to see her hurt him – accidentally, of course.”  
  
Timothy sat quietly and nodded his head.

“Being the recipient of her klutziness, I know first hand what you mean.”  
  
“As do I!” added Wanda.  “She almost blinded me with the lemon and broke my foot with that bloody handbag of hers!”  
  
“She’d still make a lovely daughter-in-law,” commented Timothy wistfully.  “In spite of her never-ending mishaps.”  
  
Wanda nodded in agreement.

“Now, what else did Ben have to say before?”  
  
 _Bless her, she’s just like him or vice versa.  I’ll share what I can._  
  
“He invited me to breakfast on Saturday morning while you’re off for your day of beauty – not that you need it....”  
  
“You always know exactly the right thing to say, and you will be rewarded for your efforts later,” smiled Wanda as she winked at him.  “Now, as you were.”  
  
“Seems our son wants to discuss something with me....”  
  
“What did you do?”  
  
“I didn’t do anything that I know of!  Maybe he just needs to chat is all.”  
  
“I bet he wants to talk about the bird!” said Wanda excitedly.  
  
 _I can safely tell the truth at this point._  
  
“Maybe.  I don’t know.  He didn’t say.  All I know is that he was calling from the Golden Fleece in Bank.”  
  
“Probably out having drinks with friends....unless he was on a date.  Did he say?”  
  
 _Jolly good!  I can continue with the truth. This is a cake walk._  
  
Timothy shook his head.  “Yes, but he didn't say who he was with.  It was very hard to hear.  You know how it can get in pubs.”  
  
“Where are you meeting him?”  
  
 _Ah, now we get to the tricky part.  I’ll continue with the truth._  
  
“The Coffee Cup in Hampstead, and before you ask – yes, he plans on going to the market afterwards, so everything is confirmed with Operation Parliament Hill.”  
  
Wanda jumped up from her chair with glee and began to pace back and forth on the small balcony.

“Well done you! What an opportunity this is!”  
  
 _Somehow, I had the feeling you’d say that. I need to make a decision. I can be strong or cave in. I know what she wants me to do._  
  
“After breakfast, you can follow him to the market and see what happens between him and Donna Saint James!  You can take photos on your mobile and email them to me!”  
  
 _Like hell I will! That’s crossing a line. Benedict would be appalled if he were to catch me._  
  
Timothy got to his feet and took his wife by the arms.  
  
“I’ve thought very carefully about it, Wanda.  It _is_ the perfect opportunity.  I’ve seriously considered following Benedict; but I’m not going to.  Let Donna Saint James execute the plan.  If it’s meant to be, it’ll be. I hope you understand - and please don’t be cross or badger me about it.”  
  
Wanda sighed as the kitchen timer in her pocket pinged.  
  
“Dinner is ready.  Let’s eat,”  she said simply.  
  
 _Once he’s made up his mind, it’s almost impossible to sway him. I’ll give it one last try and throw in the towel for now.  I hope Fate brings our plan to fruition._  
  
Wanda slid open the balcony door and glanced back at her husband before stepping into the lounge.    
  
“I suppose you’re right, Tim; but part of me really wishes you’d reconsider and follow him.”  
  
Timothy didn’t answer as he gathered up the two mugs and followed his wife back into the flat.  
  
 _Oh, Wanda, my darling. All this posturing for nothing because we both already know deep down inside that I've already reconsidered following Benedict._  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. A scotch egg is a hardboiled egg that has been covered in sausage meat, bread crumbed and then deep fried. I have never had one.
> 
> 2\. The Avengers was a show about secret agents that aired back in the 1960’s. The two main characters were John Steed and Mrs. Emma Peel, played by Patrick Macnee and Dame Diana Rigg. 
> 
> Special Note: The next chapter (Chapter 46) will be posted on July 13th, as I’ll be on vacation for the July 4th (Independence Day) weekend. Happy 4th to all those who celebrate!


	46. Chapter 46

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Benedict gets a drunken Donna home and tries to get her to bed.

  
Benedict Cumberbatch quickly flagged down the server, pressed a fiver into his hand and asked if he would be kind enough to hail them a cab.  Donna stood beside the booth, swaying a bit as she tried in vain to steady herself.  
  
“Oh my...my legs feel like rubber,” said Donna, gripping the edge of the table to help balance herself.  “It’s gonna be a long walk to the exit.”  
  
“Please let me help you,” said Benedict, as he got to his feet and took her gently by the elbow.  
  
Donna shrugged away.  “I’m perfectly able to walk out of here by myself, Benedict.  I just needed a minute to get myself together,” she said indignantly.  
  
“As you were then.”  Benedict gestured that she should walk in front on him.  
  
 _I’ll just make sure to stay close behind you, so I can catch you when you  take a tumble,_ thought Benedict.  
  
Donna dramatically slung her handbag over her shoulder and after taking a couple of tentative steps, proceeded to attempt walking at full speed.  Unfortunately, her legs went out from under her; and Donna wound up on the floor before Benedict had time to react.  
  
“Shit!” she shrieked as she landed on her bottom.    
  
“Are you hurt?” Benedict asked, squatting down beside her.    
  
Donna remained still for a moment, as she took stock of herself.  
  
“Thanks to all my natural padding, I’m fine,” she laughed as she patted her bottom.

  
Then Donna reached out and began to pull up the leg of Benedict’s jeans.  
  
“What in blazes are you doing?”  
  
“I wanted to see if you were wearing your owl socks.”  
  
“No, I’m not.” 

He quickly let her see that he was wearing dark navy blue  socks with purple stripes.  
  
“Those are boring socks compared to the owls.  I miss the owls,” Donna said sadly.    
  
“I’ll make sure to wear a pair Saturday night.”  
  
“Let me guess.  Since you’re cooking, I bet the owls will be wearing chefs aprons and hats,” she guffawed.  
  
Benedict helped her to her feet and took her by the arm.  “Erm...no.”  
   
“Did anyone see me fall?” she asked in a low voice.  
  
 _Just everyone in the first floor dining room, but not to worry._  
  
“Nope.  No one noticed. I think you should lean on me at least, so you don’t lose your balance and wind up on that pretty bum of yours again.”  
  
Donna pulled her arm out of his grasp.  
  
“You’re treating me like I’ve had too much to drink, Benedict.”  
  
“That’s because you _have_ had too much to drink,” countered Benedict patiently.  
  
 _You’ve had enough for both of us and then some._  
  
“Nonsense!  I just had some of your beer.  I’m perfectly sober and fine and....well, other things.  I just can’t think what they are now.”  Donna cleared her throat and straightened up to her full height.  “I’ll show you! Watch me walk a straight line!”  
  
 _Some of my beer?  You drank the whole second pint by yourself.  I’m amazed you can stand. What in the hell did you think you were drinking all night?  Water? That cider was stronger than the beer. I’m not going to argue with her when she’s like this._  
  
Donna tossed her head back defiantly and began to totter away from Benedict, who noted that she was definitely not walking in anything that even remotely resembled a straight line. Suddenly, she turned around and smirked at him.  
  
“See!  I can walk just fine. Tell you what:  I’ll race you to the door. I dare you to try and catch me!” Donna chortled as she whirled around with the intention of breaking into a run for the door.  “Ready. Set. Go!”  
  
This time Benedict anticipated what was going to happen and was at her side as she tripped over her own feet.  He was able to catch and steady her with no problem.  
  
 _There’s no way she’s walking out of here under her own steam. Time to take matters into my own hands._  
  
“Donna, _please_ listen to me.  You’re off your face, and I need to get you home....”  
  
“I’m not off my....what was that you said?  My face?  I’m just horny and want to be alone with you...if you know what I mean?”  Donna nudged him in the ribs and winked at him.  
  
 _Why is this happening to me? Why does she have to be pissed?_  
  
“I have a cab waiting outside. Now, I need you to put your arms around my neck,” said Benedict quietly.  
  
Donna did as he asked and leaned her head against his neck.  He felt her lips on his neck planting soft kisses along it.    
  
“I’m so tired all of a sudden,” she yawned.  “Can I go back to the booth and rest my eyes for a minute?  I just need to lie down so the room stops spinning.”  
  
“You can rest in the cab.  Just hang onto me, and you’ll be able to relax in just a few minutes.”  
  
“I thought you wanted to snoog me or snoodle me or what in the hell is that word you always use for kissing?”  
  
“Snog,” replied an amused Benedict as he scooped Donna up in his arms, carried her through the pub, out the door and into the waiting cab.  “We can snog all you want when we get back to your place.”  
  
 _But that’s all we’re going to do.  I will not take advantage of you, as tempting as it is._  
  
As soon as the cab had driven away from the pub, Donna leaned her head against Benedict’s shoulder and fell fast asleep with his arm around her. Benedict leaned his head back on the seat and soon found himself starting to doze.

  
  


  
  
“Here we are,” said the cabby as he pulled up to the front of the Riverwalk Terrace Block.  “Do you need any help getting her out?  She looks passed out cold to me.”  
  
“A case of too much cider,” replied Benedict as he gently moved Donna off his shoulder.  “I can manage her,” he said as she fell over onto the seat into a lying down position.  
  
The cabby let out a hearty laugh.

“Yeah, that cider can knock you on your arse if you’re not careful. It’s happened to me a few times in my life.”  
  
 _She’s already been on her arse once tonight,_ thought a bemused Benedict.  
  
Benedict handed the cabby the fare and a gratuity.  Then he leaned over Donna and gently patted her cheek.  
  
“Donna, you’re home.  Time to wake up. How are you feeling?”  
  
Donna opened her large hazel eyes and squinted up at him. Then she blinked a couple of times.  
  
“Home? I thought we were going to Notting Hill for ice cream? You said we could go and get those yummy ice cream bars with the chili in them.”  
  
“You already had ice cream – it came with the pudding,” responded Benedict, trying not to laugh.  “Don’t you remember?”  
  
Donna scrunched up her face and frowned at him.  
  
“It was banana, right?”  
  
“Yeah, and you enjoyed it very much.  You even enjoyed mine.  Now, we need to get you upstairs to your flat and into bed.  Take my hand....”  
  
Donna giggled and playfully batted his hand away.  
  
“What a wicked man you are Benedict Cumber...catch - no, don't tell me...batch. You just can’t wait to get me into bed.  I find this side of you very enticing...and ever-so-sexy.”  
  
 _You should only know how wicked my thoughts can be, especially when they concern us being intimate with each other._  
  
Benedict caught the cabby looking skeptically at him through the rear-view mirror.  
  
 _Oh, Christ!  He probably thinks I’m just trying to get her upstairs so I can get laid._  
  
“You _sure_ about that, Mate?  She really seems out of it.”  
  
“Yeah, I’m sure,” said Benedict. “Thanks for the offer.”  
  
Donna started to let Benedict pull her up, then stopped him. She put her hand to her head.  The world was spinning around her.  
  
“Oh...wait a minute.  I can’t focus.  Does this mean I have to get up again...and walk....all the way to the door?”  
  
Benedict smiled at her.  “Nope.  Just put your arms around my neck, like you did in the pub; and I’ll do the rest.”  
  
“Okay.  I can do that,” said Donna as she sluggishly put her arms around his neck and buried her face in the crook of his neck while deeply inhaling the scent of his cologne.  
  
“You always smell so nice and clean,” she muttered, rubbing her nose against his neck and sniffing him.  “What cologne are you wearing?”  
  
“Attimo by  Salvatore Ferragamo.”  
  
“Mmmm...it's spicy and citrusy with something else I can’t identify.....”  
  
“Balsam.”  
  
“It’s very, very, very sexy.”  
  
Unfortunately, as Benedict began to pick her up, Donna’s arms fell limply to her sides as she started to drift off to sleep again.  
  
“She’s gonna be like a bloomin’ dead weight, she is. Are you _sure_ you don’t need help with her?” the cabby asked again.  “I can get her feet while you take care of the rest.”  
  
“Nope. It’s fine.  I really do appreciate the offer, but I’ve got her,” said Benedict as he went to plan B.

  
  
  
  
  
Benedict was more than grateful when Tom, the night doorman, saw him coming and rushed to open the door to the building for him.  A groggy Donna was slung over Benedict’s left shoulder, cave man style, with her front half hanging down his back.  His left hand rested just under her bum, while he used his right to hold her legs against his chest.  Her huge handbag was slung over his right shoulder.  
  
“I’ll be happy to help you with Ms. Saint James, sir,” Tom said.  “Does she require medical assistance?” he asked with genuine concern. "I can buzz Dr. Cipriano in 10C, he's her brother-in-law."  
  
“Nope. No need to bother the doctor. She just had a bit too much to drink is all,” replied Benedict.  “If you could please call the lift for me, that would be great.”  
  
Tom quickly walked ahead of Benedict and rang for the lift, which fortunately came by the time Benedict had reached it. Tom held the door open while Benedict went inside with Donna and leaned in to press the button labeled ‘12’ for Donna’s floor.    
  
“Please feel free to call down if you change your mind, sir,” Tom offered.  
  
“I will,” said Benedict as the door to the lift slid shut and began its ascent to the twelfth floor.  
  
“Where are we going?” asked Donna.  “Can you please put me down, Benedict.  I feel like Wilma Flintstone.”  
  
Benedict gently set Donna down and dropped her handbag on the floor.  She leaned against the wall, as he massaged his sore lower back.  
  
 _Christ, she’s a lot heavier than she looks. That motherfucking bag must easily weigh ten pounds.  She must carry bloody bricks in it._  
  
“Are you okay?” she asked with concern.  “You’re rubbing your back.”  
  
“Yeah. My back’s a bit sore. I will ask you for a couple of Paracetamols when we get into your flat,” replied Benedict.  
  
“I have a heating pad you can use or I could give you a back massage. I'm very good at that. Then we can snoggle each other,” she giggled.  “Or snuggle.  We can snoggle and snuggle if you’re up to it. By then I'd bet you'd be up.  If you’re a very good boy, I might even snoodle your noodle,” she snickered.  
  
“And here we are,” said Benedict, as the lift stopped and the door slid open.  
  
He turned to find Donna sitting on the floor of the lift.  She put her hand across her stomach and looked up at Benedict.  
  
“I think I feel sick....like I'm going to throw up.”  
  
Oh, bloody fucking hell!  Now, she’s going to puke in the lift.  Let me get her into her flat and to the loo.  
  
“Pardon me if I’m not gentle, but it’s paramount that I get you to the loo.”  
  
“You want me to do you in the bathroom?” eyes wide, as she asked incredulously. “If this is some kind of kinky toilet fetish thing you...”    
  
Without another word Benedict quickly picked up Donna and headed towards her flat as fast as his feet could carry them.  He felt her dry heave.

 _No! Not here in the middle of the fucking hallway!  Just a few more seconds._  
  
“Hurry, Ben...I’m going to throw up.”  
  
“Okay. We’re here,” said Benedict as he stopped in front of her door and put her down.  “Now, I just need your keycard...” he impatiently held out his hand. "Well? Donna, please! I need it now!"  
  
Donna leaned against the wall and stared at him.  
  
“Where’s my bag, Benedict?  My keycard is in there!  _You_ had my bag.  What did you do with it?” she wailed.  "I feel so nauseous...like all the food is going to come up."  
  
 _Oh, bloody fucking hell,_ thought Benedict in exasperation as he looked around him. _What in the fuck did she do with it?_  
  
“I thought _you_ had it,” he said irritably.  
  
“There’s no need to get snippy,” she huffed. "You're being very stroopy, as you like to say."

"The word is pronounced stropy."

"Whatever!"

“Stop playing games with me! What did you do with your bag, Donna?” he asked, impatience growing by the minute. “This isn’t funny!”  
  
“I'm _not_ laughing. You definitely had it!"

"I think I'd know if I had your damn bag," Benedict snorted sarcastically as he spread his empty hands. "The thing is almost as big as you are!"

"Wait!  _You_ left my bag in the elevator!” cried Donna accusingly.  “You took it off your shoulder and threw it on the floor."

"I did NOT throw it down."

"Hurry! Someone can steal it!  It has all my stuff in it!”  
  
Benedict suddenly realized to his great annoyance that she was right.  
  
“For fuck’s sake!”  he growled in anger, clenching his fists at his sides.  
  
Donna looked a bit green.  “Please hurry, Benedict!”  She bent over, holding her stomach.  “I need to get to the toilet – NOW!”  
  
“Wait!  I’ve got it!” called a familiar voice from the direction of the lift.  
  
Benedict looked up to see Andrew Scott jogging towards him with Donna’s handbag.  Donna stopped holding her stomach and waved limply at Andrew.  
  
“Andrew, you’re the last person I expected to see tonight,” said Benedict.  
  
“I can say the same about you, Ben. I just moved in Tuesday,” explained Andrew. “I’m in 12B,” he added as he pointed to the door to his flat.  
  
“Thank you so much!” said Benedict taking the handbag from Andrew.  “I had visions of it taking a trip down to the lobby or worse.”  
  
“You’re lucky I saw what happened then,” laughed Andrew. “I was happy to do it.”  
  
“Where did you come from?” asked Benedict, as he looked towards the lift in puzzlement.  “You weren’t in the lift...”  
  
“I was in the recycling area.  I was just taking out the rubbish,” said Andrew, pointing to an alcove located near the lift. “This is so much better than having to go outside.  Just a quick trip down the hall and its sorted.”  
  
“Hi  Drew!” said Donna, who was leaning against the wall for support.  “Can I call you Drew?  I like it better than Andrew or Andy.”  
  
“Whatever tickles your fancy, Darlin’,” laughed Andrew, stroking his chin.  
  
“Andrew’s my neighbor,” she said to Benedict. “You know each other.”  
  
“Yes, we do,” smiled Benedict patiently.  
  
“Drew’s going to be in _Sherlock_ , too,” Donna said to Benedict.  “I know he’s playing Watson, but he won’t tell me.”  
  
Andrew rolled his eyes at Benedict and shrugged.  "I tried to explain that we signed NDAs, but she wasn't buying that."

"She can be very persistent when she wants information," smirked Benedict.  
  
“Drew also rescued my handbag from an awful fate,” Donna said to Benedict with a giggle. "You were ready to let it ride down to the basement!"

"Is there a basement in this building?" Benedict asked Andrew, who nodded affirmatively.

"That's where the indoor pool and exercise room are," replied Donna with a yawn.  
  
Andrew and Benedict exchanged glances as Donna closed her eyes and started humming to herself.  She slowly began to slide down the wall.  
  
“A bit pissed are we?” giggled Andrew, inclining his head towards Donna.  
  
“I’d call it much more than a bit,” laughed Benedict.  “She’s totally shit-faced.”  
  
“I can hear you both talking about me,” snapped Donna, eyes closed.  “I’m not drunk!  I’m just feeling very happy...and tired.”  
  
 _Well, at least she’s not feeling sick any longer,_ thought Benedict thankfully.  
  
“Need any help getting her into bed?”  
  
Donna’s eyes flew open.  “I don’t do threesomes, Drew, no matter how sexy you are.  You can both forget it!”  
  
“We’re talking about getting you inside so you can have a lie down is all, Darlin,” said Andrew, trying not to laugh. “Our motives are pure as the driven snow, I assure you.”  
  
“I’d better get her inside, Andrew.  She wasn’t feeling well,” said Benedict.  “I don’t want to risk her soiling the carpet in the hallway. Thanks again.”  
  
“My pleasure. If you need me, I’m right down the hall,” said Andrew as he pointed towards his flat.    
  
Benedict set the handbag on the floor beside Donna, who had slowly slid down the wall into a sitting position.  She sat with her head bent towards her chest.  
  
“I need your keycard to open the door, Donna.”  
  
 _Shit! She’s asleep again. Looks like the puking crisis is over for now. Well, I guess this is my golden opportunity to see what exactly is in her bag._  
  
Benedict sat on the floor cross-legged and pulled the heavy handbag onto his lap.  He rubbed his hands together in anticipation, opened the zipper and peered inside. The bag was packed full of all kinds of items.  
  
 _Let’s see...where would she put a keycard?  Her wallet is the obvious place. Ha ha!  I sound just like Sherlock Holmes now. Wouldn’t Moffat and Gatiss be chuffed?_  
  
Benedict began to rummage around in Donna’s handbag.  He was having trouble seeing everything.  
  
 _Where’s that little red torch she had the other night? Bloody hell! The only way I’m ever going to find her wallet is to take some of this shit out._  
  
Benedict began to eagerly pull out the contents of Donna’s bag as he searched for her wallet.  
  
 _What’s this? Okay....tissue packet, the hand sanitizer of course...what could be in this little tin?...oh, the mints I gave her....these are some kind of cleansing wipes....loo seat covers? Christ! I remember when Mum would send me off to school with those._  
  
Benedict pulled out a pink flowered plastic bag and carefully unzipped it.  
  
 _Hmmm....this must be the first aid bag, he chuckled to himself.  Plasters, antibiotic ointment, elastic bandage, cotton buds, cotton balls, tweezers, Tylenol, Tums, Imodium, sunscreen...she’s prepared for all sorts of disasters... dental floss, travel toothbrush, toothpaste....no wonder her breath is always so fresh...what in the hell is this?  Oh, a collapsible travel cup – that’s genius!  Women things...tampons, sanitary towels...for fuck’s sake – it’s like having a portable travel section from Superdrug with you._  
  
There was another bag, which was a smaller version of the medical bag.  
  
 _Ah, this must be the beauty bag....at least they are all sample sizes...blush, mascara, lip gloss, lip stick, lip balm, moisturizer, hand lotion....compact mirror....brush, comb...hair elastics....nail file...nail clippers...oh, now this is a good thing to have – a small sewing kit....Christ, Olivia and Anna didn’t carry around half this crap with them!_  
  
Benedict zipped the bag closed and saw yet another pouch.  He quickly opened it.    
  
 _Tights and what looks like a spare pair of knickers.  I wish I had time to take a better look at those...but where in the hell is her wallet?_  
  
Benedict frowned and scratched his head as he looked inside the near-empty bag.  
  
 _Looks like a small note pad and pen....key case...travel-size brolly. Ah, here’s the torch...which  I no longer need.  Maybe the wallet’s in one of these zippered compartments.....at least I found her mobile._  
  
Benedict paused to examine her mobile and gasped as he found himself staring at his owl-sock clad feet.  
  
 _Why in the fuck is she using a photo of my feet as the wallpaper???_  
  
He looked over at the sleeping Donna.  Then it hit him.  
  
 _Of course...this is from the night we met, and she took the sneaky photo of my owl socks. She’s sentimental...I’d be a bit happier if it were a photo of me; but we’ve never taken any of each other._  
  
Benedict looked at all the items scattered on the floor around him and shook his head in frustration.  He ruffled his hair with both hands and rubbed the back of his neck.  
  
 _There’s just one more place to look.  If it’s not there, that means she left it at the bloody pub._  
  
He unzipped the last compartment to find a wallet and coin purse that was shaped like a brown and beige cow, which made him smile.  
  
 _Thank God! Just when I thought I’d have to go back to the pub and leave her with Andrew._  
  
Benedict quickly opened the wallet.  There was some money, an oyster card, international drivers license, medical insurance card and a variety of credit cards.  However, there were no keycards for the building.  
  
 _What the fuck? There should have been two keycards – one for the entrance to the block and one for her flat. This doesn’t make sense. Could she have left them inside the flat?  Maybe she took them out when I wasn’t at the table and forgot to put them back._  
  
Benedict put all the items back into the empty bag and quickly zipped it shut.  Then he leaned over and gently shook Donna.  
  
“Donna, I need you to wake up.  I’ve been through your whole bloody bag, and wallet; but I don’t see your keycard.”  
  
Donna opened her eyes and smiled lazily at him.  She leaned towards him and ran her index finger down his nose and tapped the tip of it playfully.  
  
“That’s because I put them in the front pocket of my jeans, silly man.  It makes it easier to get to.”  
  
Benedict shook his head in disbelief.   “Bloody hell!!! Why didn’t you tell me that in the first place?” he asked in exasperation.  
  
Donna sniffed.  “You’re yelling at me.  This is our first fight....”  
  
 _Patience, Benedict, she’s pissed.  Let it go.  Just take the bloody thing and get inside.  Besides, you now know what’s inside that bag of hers and why it’s so damn heavy._  
  
“I’m _not_ yelling at you.  May I please have the keycard, so we can get in then?”  
  
“It’s in my left-front pocket. You can get it,” she suddenly giggled and scooted away from him.  
  
 _Jesus fucking Christ!  I guess I’m going to have to get it.  Now, she still thinks we’re playing games._  
  
Benedict moved closer to Donna and gingerly put his hand in her pocket.  His hand was large and it was a tight fit. He felt around until he located the two plastic cards.  
  
 _Ah!  Here they are!_  
  
Donna suddenly began to squeal loudly with laughter and smacked his hand through her jeans.  
  
“Stop that, Benedict!!!!  It tickles!”  
  
“If you would just stop squirming for a minute and let me get my hand out,” he pleaded.  
  
Donna squealed even louder as he moved his hand again, and started to roll over and away from him.  He felt some pain as his hand was being turned unnaturally.  
  
“Stop moving, Donna! For fuck’s sake – you’re going to break my bloody hand!  It doesn’t turn that way!” he yelped as he grabbed for her hip to pull her back towards him.    
  
Unfortunately, this only prompted an ear-splitting shriek from Donna.  
  
“I said stop that, Benedict!!!  _Now_!  It tickles!”  she laughed, holding his hand fast against her.  
  
“Shhhh....the whole floor will hear you!  _Please_ be quiet!” he hissed.  
  
Benedict heard the sound of the door to one of the other flats open.    
  
 _Oh, fuck me!  Just what I don’t need._  
  
“Please let my hand go, Donna.  Someone’s heard you.”  
  
“You put your hand down my pants!”  she said indignantly.  
  
“You’re the one who told me to put it there!” he snapped.

The door to 12A flew open to reveal an annoyed-looking couple in their forties, who ventured out into the hallway. The woman glared at Benedict, hands on hips.  The man held a cricket bat, which he waved menacingly at Benedict.  
  
“What in the hell is going on out here, Donna?  Do I have to call the concierge?” he asked angrily.  
  
“Do you think you two could wait until you get into the bloody flat?” sneered the woman.  “We don’t need this sort of thing in a building like this.”  
  
Benedict was totally flustered.  “I’m...Erm...trying... trying to get her keycard so we can go into her flat, but she’s off her face...”  
  
“I AM NOT!” Donna insisted angrily, as she held Benedict’s hand firmly in place so he couldn’t move it.  
  
“Is this man bothering you, Donna?” asked the man with concern as he took another step towards Benedict.  
  
The woman touched her husband’s arm.  “Take a good look where their hands are, Art.  That’s foreplay if I ever saw it.”  
  
“A lot she knows,” mumbled Benedict.  “There’s nothing funny going on...”  
  
“She screamed at him to stop,” insisted Art.  “Looks to me as if she’s trying to stop him.  Call down to the concierge, Gracie. Let him get it sorted.”  
  
The door to Andrew’s flat opened.  He and another man stood in the doorway, looking out at Donna and Benedict with amusement.  
  
“My, such a ruckus!” said the man beside Andrew.  “If I had known the soundproofing was so...”  
  
Andrew raised a slender hand to silence his companion.  
  
“It’s been quiet as a church, Stephen. I swear. This is the first time I’ve heard anything,” he said quietly.  Then he walked towards Benedict, waving at the couple. “Evening Art, evening Gracie.”    
  
Andrew stopped in front of Benedict and Donna, arms folded across his chest.  Stephen came up behind him after also greeting the older couple, who had come to stand on either side of Benedict.  
  
“Everything alright, Ben? Sounds like someone’s enjoying herself,” he giggled, as he inclined is head towards Donna. "You okay, Darlin'?"  
  
“Please accept our apology,” Benedict said to everyone, feeling his face redden.  “She doesn’t know what she’s saying.”  
  
“Yes, I do! He’s trying to get my keycard out of my pants because I didn’t feel well and his hand tickles,” blurted out Donna.  “There’s nothing weird going on at all!”  
  
“Yet,” she mumbled under her breath to a bewildered Benedict.  
  
“Look, I can personally vouch for him,” said Andrew to the couple. “He’s a great bloke, really.  They’re together - he’s her boyfriend.”  
  
Donna and Benedict exchanged looks.  Donna looked as if she were about to correct Andrew.  
  
“Don’t say a word.  Just smile,” Benedict hissed at Donna. “Its better if you let them think that.”  
  
“Andrew and I work together,” added Benedict with a smile.  
  
“Benedict’s wasn’t  hurting me at all.  It’s just that I couldn’t get the keycards out of my jeans pocket, and he was helping.  I’m very ticklish,” said Donna. "It's my fault. I didn't mean to disturb you."  
  
The couple exchanged glances and shrugged.  
  
“Just keep it down when you’re in the hallway then,” said Art. “No hard feelings?” he asked Benedict, about to offer his hand but seeing it was still trapped in Donna's pocket. Benedict blushed and nodded that all was fine.  
  
“We know how it is when you’re first in love,” said Gracie.  “But it’s best to keep your hands to yourselves until you get inside.  There are security cameras everywhere.” She pointed to a camera in the center of the ceiling.  "The concierge can see everything."  
  
“I’m sorry.  It won’t happen again,” said Donna as the door to the lift opened to reveal Tom, the night doorman.    
  
“Holy hell!” grimaced Benedict.  “What now?”  
  
“Just checking that everything’s okay up here.  The concierge saw a lot of commotion on the security camera and asked me to come up to check if a bobby was needed.”  
  
“Nothing’s wrong, Tom,” said Art.  “We’re just having a get acquainted chat is all.”  
  
The others nodded in agreement.  
  
“Good night then,” smiled Tom as he went back to the lift.  
  
Once Art and Gracie had returned to their flat, Andrew and Stephen bid Donna and Benedict goodnight.  
  
Benedict rubbed his nose and looked at Donna with a raised eyebrow.  
  
“Are you going to release my hand now so we can go into your flat – without disturbing the neighbors again?”  
  
Donna nodded and giggled as she let go of Benedict’s hand.  He slowly slid his hand out of her jeans, as she covered her mouth so as not to laugh out loud.     
  
He let out the breath he had been holding and got to his feet.  The first keycard he tried opened the door.  Benedict picked up the handbag and slung it over his shoulder, as he offered his free hand to Donna to help her up.  
  
“Can you get up?”  
  
“I think so...no....oh no....I’m feeling sick again.”  
  
Benedict quickly slung Donna over his free shoulder and entered the flat, closing the door behind him with his foot.  It was just after eight-thirty, so there was still some daylight left.    
  
 _Christ, I feel like it’s midnight. The bedroom and loo should be right down that hallway past the kitchen._  
  
“Stop carrying me around like a sack of potatoes!” Donna groaned.  “That’s really making me feel sick.”  
  
Benedict headed into the black and white tiled bathroom and sat Donna down on the floor in front of the commode.  The lid was already up. He took a tissue and lifted the seat up so she wouldn’t soil it if she puked.  
  
“Why are we in here?” Donna asked suspiciously as she eyed the toilet bowl. “Oh....wait...you have some kind of kinky thing about the bathroom...I’m not going to....”  
  
Benedict stood with his hips leaning back against the vanity, arms crossed. He sighed deeply. 

“I promise you that I find _nothing_ even remotely erotic in this bathroom that would get me off,” he said with a wave of his hand.  
  
“What about me? Don’t you find being with me erotic?” Donna looked hurt by his comment.  
  
 _Jesus.  Why? Oh why?  I need to get her into bed now!_  
  
“Oh course I do, Donna; but under different circumstances.”  
  
Benedict squatted down so he was eye level with her.  “I thought you were feeling sick and wanted to use the loo, yes?”  He raised an eyebrow at her questioningly.  
  
Donna shook her head and patted his cheek.  “I don’t have to now. I’m really glad about the bathroom.  I thought you got turned on...”  
  
“Well, I don’t,” Benedict said brusquely. “Off to bed then.”

He scooped her up bridal style and carried her across the hallway into the large bedroom.  
  
She began to giggle again and playfully smacked his chest.  “My, my, my...you sure are horny tonight....”  
  
 _Care to bet on that?_ thought Benedict. _My goal is to get you into bed so you can sleep it off while I watch over you._  
  
“...and so per...persis...”  Donna burped loudly. “Oh, ‘scuse me.  Persistent is the word I wanted to use.  Did I want to use that word?  You’re good with words, Ben...Bene...whatever your name is.”  
  
“Ben was fine,” he shook his head and tried not to laugh.  
  
The bedroom was large with black lacquer furniture.  It was decorated in the same black, white and gray hues as the lounge.  However, instead of red accents, there were royal blue ones.  A large window overlooked the river and Globe theatre beyond on the South bank.  Benedict sat Donna down on a black leather armchair by the window.  He placed her handbag on the small table beside the chair.  
  
“I just want to get the bed ready.  Be one minute,” said Benedict as he tossed the royal blue throw pillows onto the light gray upholstered bench that was in front of the bed.  He began to fold down the dark gray duvet that covered the bed.  
  
“Boy, you don’t give up, do you?” Donna asked, eyes closed.  
  
“I assure you that my actions are purely out of concern for your welfare.  I wanted to make sure you got home and to bed safely.  I have no ulterior motives. Promise.”  
  
Donna opened her eyes and frowned at him.  “Does this mean you’re going home and leaving me alone?  I don’t feel very good.”  
  
“Absolutely not. I’m going to stay with you in case you get sick.”  
  
Benedict pulled down the top sheet and fluffed one of the pillows.  He crossed the room to sit on the ottoman in front of her.    
  
“Give me your feet, so I can take your shoes off.”  
  
Donna smiled at him and batted her eyelashes.  “Ooooo so you’re going to undress me in the chair....that’s a different approach.”  
  
Benedict removed both of her shoes and set them off to the side.  Then he removed her socks and put them on top of her shoes.  
  
“Those go in the hamper in the bathroom.”  
  
 _She’s not too pissed to give orders._    
  
“I’ll take care of it once you’re asleep.  Now, into bed you go,” Benedict picked Donna up and approached the bed.  “Which side do you sleep on?”  
  
“Right. I like to be near the bathroom because I pee a lot at night. I drink a lot of water.”  
  
“That, I know firsthand,” Benedict chuckled.  
  
“You’re making fun of me.”  
  
“Nope. Just teasing you. Drinking a lot of water is good for you.  This way you won’t feel it as much come morning.”  
  
Benedict lay Donna on the bed on her side and pulled the sheet and summer-weight blanket over her.  He leaned over and kissed her on the forehead.    
  
“What won’t I feel?  I want to feel you!” She reached out and tried to touch his crotch.    
  
“I’m talking about the hangover you’re going to have in the morning. Since you drank a lot of water, it won’t be as bad.”  
  
Donna frowned at him.  “I’m not drunk.”  She rolled over onto her back and closed her eyes, yawning loudly.  
  
 _Of course you’re not, bless you._  
  
“I need you to turn on your side, Donna.  It’s important,” said Benedict gently prodding her with his fingertips.     
  
She didn’t budge.  
  
The more he prodded, the more Benedict saw that it was of no use.  
  
Suddenly, Donna’s eyes snapped open.    
  
“Why? If you’re thinking of fucking me from behind....”  
  
Benedict rubbed the back of his neck.  “I have no intention of doing that at this time...”  
  
“What the fuck?  You mean you _like_ doing it......”  
  
 _Oh Benedict, turn on your mouth filter.  That was a piss poor choice of words._  
  
“Donna.  Please listen to me. This isn’t the time to be discussing our likes and dislikes of sex positions...”  
  
“You’re the one who keeps bringing it up!” she snarled.  
  
 _It’s the liquor talking.  Take a deep breath, Benedict, and try to reason with her._  
  
“You need to be on your side in case you really _do_ get sick and have to puke.  I don’t want you on your back  -  you can choke,” he said a bit sternly.  
  
 _I probably shouldn’t have put it that way....she might get scared in her condition.  I have this funny feeling Donna’s never been this pissed before._  
  
Donna bolted upright in terror.  
  
“I don’t want to choke!”  She began to cry.  
  
 _Christ! A crying jag.  What next? This one was my fault._  
  
Benedict sat on the edge of the bed and gathered her in his arms.  He stroked her hair.  
  
“Donna.  Listen to me. Please.  I’m serious. That’s why you need to sleep on your side – so nothing happens if you do have to puke.”  
  
“Please don’t let me die in my own vomit!” Donna cried, tears streaming down her cheeks.  
  
“I promise that nothing will happen to you, Love,” said Benedict holding her close. “That’s why I’m here.”  
  
He kissed her gently as he rubbed circles on her back to soothe her.  She smelled of her slightly sweet perfume, but tasted of beer and banana.  After a couple of minutes, her sobbing subsided and her breathing became regular.    
  
“Okay.  Can you lie down on your side for me?” he asked quietly.  
  
Donna gulped and nodded.  “Oh, my God.  The room is spinning.” She flopped back down on the bed, and Benedict was able to easily roll her onto her side, facing him.  “Make the room stop spinning....ugh!”  
  
“Just close your eyes and try to relax,” he said in that deep baritone voice of his.  He leaned down, smoothed her hair off her face and kissed her forehead.  “Good night, Donna.  I’ll be right here if you need me.”  
  
“You’re the best, Benedict.  I’ll take care of you as soon as I have a chance to sleep a bit, okay?”  She said, eyes closed.  “I’m going to suck you until you scream for mercy.”  
  
 _God, I only wish.  How many men would have the bollocks to take advantage of her?  There’s no way I’m going to let her touch me in this condition.  We would both regret it tomorrow._  
  
Benedict looked around the room. There was a flat-screen TV mounted on the wall across the room from the bed.  He didn’t see the remote anywhere.    
  
 _Doesn’t everyone keep their remote out?  Maybe it’s in one of the bedside tables._  
  
Benedict opened the drawer of the nightstand on the right and began to take inventory of its contents:  
  
 _The ever-present bottle of hand sanitizer,_ he chuckled to himself. _Maybe she likes to snack in bed._  
  
 _Tissue box - this may come in handy later if she gets ill,_ thought Benedict as he placed the box on top of the nightstand.  
  
 _Personal cleansing towelettes....probably for post-coital cleanups. Ultra thin condoms – not my preferred brand, but I guess they would do nicely in a pinch. What’s in this box?  Ah, a tube of KY jelly lubricant._    _Hmmmm...the condoms and lube appear to be recently purchased and haven’t been opened yet.  Looks like Donna did have plans for us after all.  It wasn’t just the liquor talking._  
  
 _Oh, what’s in here?_ Benedict pulled out a blue paisley drawstring bag and took a peek inside.  It contained a battery-operated vibrator. _Oh, I do like that she uses a vibrator.....she isn’t afraid to pleasure herself. I wonder if she’s open to using sex toys? Anyway, no remote but very interesting._  
  
He rubbed the back of his neck and went around to the other side of the bed to check the nightstand.   There was a television program guide and two remotes – one for the TV and one for the DVD player that was on a shelf beside the dresser. There was also a copy of _Shogun_ by James Clavell that Benedict removed from the drawer.  As he thumbed through it, he found a bookmark marking her place.  
  
 _I can do some reading or watch some telly.  Maybe I’ll read.  This book sounds interesting. I don’t want to go in the lounge.  She’s obviously never been this pissed before, so I want to be nearby if she gets sick._  
  
Benedict made himself comfortable in the black leather armchair, took off his shoes and put his feet up on the ottoman.  He covered his lower half with the crocheted throw that was draped over the back of the chair.  Then he switched on the reading lamp.  He began to read the book until Donna’s voice interrupted him. She was half sitting up, leaning on her elbows for support.  
  
“Why are you sitting all the way over there?”  
  
“Because this chair is nice and comfy, yet close enough to you if you need me,” replied Benedict.  “How about some water? You need to stay hydrated.”  
  
Donna shook her head.  “I’m not thirsty.”  
  
 _Well, that’s a first!  Bless her._  
  
“I thought you were going to sleep here.”  
  
“I am. I’m going to sleep right _here,_ ” Benedict indicated the chair.  
  
“Why can’t you sleep _here_?”  she patted the empty space beside her. “In bed with me.”  
  
Benedict shook his head.  “Nope.  That wouldn’t be right. I’ll be fine here.”  
  
Donna held her head and dropped back onto the pillow.

“Oi!  The room is spinning.  I hate that feeling. I think I’m going to be sick...”  
  
 _Fuck!  I’d wish she’d puke already so I can get some sleep myself! Patience, Benedict.  Be patient and kind._  
  
Benedict was instantly at her side with the waste bin he saw next to the dresser.  He stroked her hair and indicated the bin he was holding in front of her.  
  
“You can use this if you’re going to be sick.”  
  
She started to snore softly.  
  
 _Okay – false alarm number four was it?_  
  
Benedict began to walk back towards the chair. He placed the waste bin back by dresser.  
  
“Please don’t leave me, Ben,” Donna whimpered.  “I don’t want to be alone. Can’t you sit here?”  
  
 _Whatever it takes_....Benedict thought glumly.  
  
Benedict collected the book, the TV remote and took one of the pillows off the bed.  He placed the pillow against the side of the bed and sat on the floor, back against the pillow, book on his lap.  The shaggy white area rug provided enough cushioning under his bum.  
  
 “Is this close enough?”  
  
“Yes.  Thank you. You’re so sweet.”  
  
“Get some rest, Donna.”  
  
Benedict made it through the first chapter of the book when he heard Donna’s voice again.  
  
“Benedict?”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“I can’t sleep with my bra on.  It feels uncomfortable, and I’m having trouble with the clasp.  Can you please take it off?”  
  
 _Fuck me!  Oh, yes, I sure can take it off.  I’d fucking LOVE to take it off, but I won’t because it wouldn’t be the proper thing to do._  
  
“Nope.  I don’t feel I should be doing that, Donna.  Now, try and get some sleep.”  
  
He heard her huff in annoyance behind him as he returned to reading the book.  Benedict found the book very interesting and soon became immersed in it when he felt something light land on his head.  He reached up and pulled it off to find it was Donna’s pale blue lace bra, which was still warm from being on her body.  Benedict could smell her perfume on it as he looked it over.  
  
 _Very nice indeed. One of those low cut ones that show plenty of cleavage.  Christ!  Why does she have to be off her face?_  
  
He lay the bra down on the floor beside him and returned to the book.  
  
“It goes in the hamper.”  
  
“Of course it does. With the socks. I’ll take care of it later.”  
  
He went back to reading the book.  
  
 _What the fuck?_  
  
Benedict sucked in his breath as he felt Donna’s finger tips gently kneading his scalp just the way he liked it.  He let out a soft moan and found himself eye-to-eye with her. She had crawled over to the edge of the bed and was gently playing with his hair.  
  
“What are you doing Donna?” he asked hoarsely.  
  
"This is my way of thanking you for taking care of me."

Donna moved so she partially hung over the edge of the bed.  Benedict could feel her breasts against his shoulders as she kissed his neck and continued to massage his scalp.  He put down the book, closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the pillow.    
  
 _I guess a little scalp massage wouldn’t hurt,_ he thought.  _I’ll just make sure it leads to nothing else. It’s all about self-control. I’ll have to be strong for both of us because God knows what in the hell is going on in her mind._  
  
“Mmmm...this feels incredible,” he sighed after a few minutes of pure bliss.  
  
“Benedict?”  
  
“Mmmmm...a little harder please...to the right,”  he murmured, enjoying the feelings that were beginning to be felt in his groin.    
  
“Benedict?”  
  
Donna abruptly pulled her fingers out of Benedict’s hair, causing him pain as they tangled in his curls.  
  
“Owww!” he winced. “Why did you stop just when I was starting to feel so good?”  
  
“Because I feel _really_ sick.”  
  
Benedict sighed deeply.    
  
 _Of course you do.  Make this the sixth time.....good thing the waste bin is right here....fuck!  I left it by the dresser.  Oh, not to worry - she’s not going to toss any way.  It’s probably just a little vertigo again._  
  
Benedict Cumberbatch should have heeded Donna Saint James’ sixth warning as he heard her violently retch behind him and felt the warm vomit cascading down his neck and shoulder.  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. This is what Donna’s coin purse looks like: https://img1.etsystatic.com/017/1/8980278/il_340x270.554027881_4xpl.jpg
> 
> 2\. Stephen is Andrew Scott’s supposed partner, actor and playwright Stephen Beresford. I cannot confirm this one way or another; but in this universe they will be partners, and Stephen will be very successful.
> 
> 3\. Donna’s famous handbag: http://www.luxuryexchange.com/shop/images/uploads/LV%20babylone/DSC02901.JPG


	47. Chapter 47

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The night ends with a revealing dream for Donna. I’ve also been putting out some clues about the future in prior chapters – there’s more in here. 
> 
> Warning: More mention of sickness in this chapter.

Benedict Cumberbatch stood in front of Donna Saint James’ refrigerator, looking for a snack as he was feeling a bit peckish.  He was actually quite surprised that he even had an appetite after what had transpired in the past two hours.  
  
 _Christ!  That was a trying couple of hours. It wouldn’t had been so bad had I not put the waste bin out of reach.  Lesson learnt. I’m just going to think of tonight as good practice for having sick smalls one day._  
  
It had taken Benedict that long to clean both himself and the bedroom after Donna had finally finished emptying the contents of her stomach onto them.  Somehow, Benedict had managed to peel off his soiled clothing.  He pulled the partially soiled top sheet off the bed and used it to wipe off the worst of the puke from himself and the rug without retching himself.  
  
Benedict had changed her bedding, wearing only his pants and socks, while Donna sat on the bedroom floor crying and apologizing for making such a mess. A part of him was thankful that she had been too out of it to notice his state of undress. After reassuring Donna several times that it wasn’t her fault, Benedict had been able to get her to rinse her mouth and drink some water before coaxing her back into bed. He sat on a clean section of the white area rug, trying not to gag at his own stench as Donna finally drifted off to sleep.  
  
Once he was certain Donna was fast asleep, Benedict loaded the soiled bedding into the washer and found some rug cleaner/deodorizer in a closet in the laundry room. Luckily, he was able to clean the puke off the white rug, and was satisfied that the flat owner would be no wiser as to what had happened.    
  
Unable to stand himself, Benedict went into her bathroom, where he stripped off the remainder of his clothing and turned on the shower.  He stood under the large rain showerhead, enjoying the hot water as it cascaded down his body.  He soaped himself with her vanilla almond body wash and used her shampoo and conditioner, which was from the same collection of bath products.  As he dried himself off, he realized that Donna wouldn’t have any clothing that would fit him, so he wrapped a large dry bath sheet around his waist to make due.  
  
Benedict cleaned up the bathroom and took his soiled clothes to the laundry room.  He placed the wet bedding into the dryer and stuffed his clothes along with Donna’s bra and socks in the washer. Then he padded off to the kitchen in search of a snack.  
  
There was a large covered glass jar on the counter that held delicious-looking biscuits.  Benedict removed the top and the aroma of peanut butter filled his nose, making his mouth water.  He helped himself to one as he filled the induction tea kettle with water.  The biscuit was indeed peanut butter, studded with roasted peanuts and what seemed to be large, flat peanut butter chips. The biscuit was crispy on the edges, yet soft and chewy in the middle. He went back to the jar for another as he waited for the water to boil.  
  
 _This is the best peanut butter biscuit I’ve ever had. These are definitely not store bought.  Donna must have baked them herself.  My God – I could eat the whole jar.  Wouldn’t it be nice to come home to a jar of home-baked treats like this all the time?_  
  
Benedict took two more biscuits and then opened the cabinet where he recalled Donna kept her tea.  He reviewed the selection.  
  
 _Let’s see...Chocolate mint...no....not really in the mood for that.  She still has the Earl Grey and the decaf English Breakfast.  What’s this?  Lipton tea. It seems to be a standard blend of orange pekoe and black tea – this has to be from the States.  I bet this is what she meant by ‘regular’ tea.  Ha ha ha!  She has regular and decaf.  I think I’ll try a ‘regular’, Benedict mused as he took a tea bag and put it in the mug he had warmed with hot water._  
  
He next opened the refrigerator and surveyed its contents.    
  
 _Hmmm...what am I in the mood for?  Something savory to have before I eat all the biscuits.  Don’t need two of us being nauseous._  
  
There was a covered dish that contained a few pieces of cold, fried chicken.  Benedict removed a drumstick and nibbled on it as he continued to peruse the contents of Donna’s refrigerator.    
  
 _Oh, what’s in here?_  
  
Benedict removed a pie pan that was covered with a piece of tin foil.  He placed the pan on the countertop and removed the foil to reveal a pie with a walnut streusel crumb topping that had pieces of caramel melted on it.  Half the pie was missing, but Benedict could clearly see apple slices.  
  
 _Apple pie!  This is the pie her brother-in-law was raving about.  I must try a slice.  I wonder if she has cheddar to put on top of it?_  
  
He finished the chicken and returned to the fridge.  He next found that Donna stored her cheese in a plastic container.  There was a hunk of aged Cotswold cheddar.    
  
 _Brilliant!  She knows what type of cheese to buy...I’ll only have to educate her on proper tea and how to brew it._  
  
He cut off a slice and decided to warm the wedge of pie he had cut in the microwave, while he ate a chicken breast.    
  
Once everything was ready, Benedict sat at the breakfast bar and enjoyed his snack.  After cleaning up the kitchen, he took a peek in the bedroom to check on Donna.  She had rolled over onto her right side and was facing away from him.  He adjusted the covers over her shoulders and retrieved the book he had been reading.  Then he stopped in the laundry room, removed the now dry bedding and replaced it with his wet clothes.  He quickly folded the bedding and stored it in the linen cupboard.  
  
 _It’s getting a bit chilly in here, thought Benedict rubbing his bare arms.  I can’t sleep in a bath sheet all night. I need to cover up more._  
  
He pursued his lips as he pulled out a set of flannel sheets, one fitted and one flat.  They looked brand new.  He selected the flat sheet and unfolded it.    
  
 _This should work!  She’s really got that air con cranked up full blast. Wait until she comes to dinner Saturday night and finds out I only have fans. I’d better warn her._  
  
Benedict smiled to himself as he put the towel he had been wearing in the hamper and wrapped himself in the sheet.  It smelled nice and fresh and felt soft and cozy against his bare skin.  He returned to the bedroom and settled himself into the arm chair to do a bit more reading. Before he knew it, Benedict eyelids were feeling heavy; and he had fallen asleep only to be awakened by Donna’s voice.  
  
“Benedict?”  
  
“Mmmm?”  
  
“Can you do me a favor?”  
  
“Of course.  What do you need?”  
  
Benedict half-opened his eyes and gazed across the room at her.  Donna was reclining in a half-sitting position, resting on her elbows.  She squinted at him in the dimly lit bedroom.  
  
“Are you wearing one of my winter sheets?”  
  
“Yep.  I was feeling a bit of a chill from the north wind,” he joked, as he pointed his index finger towards the cool air blowing from the air con vents in the ceiling.  
  
“It’s summer for God’s sake!” exclaimed Donna. “If you’re that cold, just adjust the climate control.  It’s in the living room, on the wall by the bookcase.” She leaned forward and peered closely at him. “Where are your clothes?”  
  
“In the dryer. I hope you don’t mind that I used your washer and dryer. My clothes and I were covered in puke...”  
  
“Are you wearing anything under that?”  
  
“Nope.”  
  
She flopped back down on the bed, sighing loudly.    
  
“Damn!  Just my luck! I hope this light-headedness goes away soon....I feel like I’ve been in the Mad Hatter’s Tea Cups several times in a row. Ugh!”  
  
 _I think the bloody alcohol is finally starting to wear off a bit.  She’s starting to make some sense again._  
  
“Donna?”  
  
“What?”  
  
“What’s the favor you wanted to ask me?”  
  
 _Please don’t let it be that she wants me to join her in bed.  I could not do that...I’d love nothing more, but I don’t think I could trust myself._  
  
“Can you please make sure to wake me by nine?   I have to meet James tomorrow at Borough Market, and I don’t want to be late for our lunch date.”  
  
Benedict felt a sudden twinge of jealousy in his chest, as he recalled the night at  Grand Imperial when he and James kept trying to out do each other with asking Donna out on dates.    
  
 _How could I forget that the wanker made a date with her for tomorrow?  And now she wants me to make sure she gets there on time, so she can be with the likes of him? I don’t think so. Oh, Benedict, you need to tamp down the green-eyed monster and do as she asks._  
  
“Okay,” he agreed grudgingly, as he covered himself with the throw and slouched down further in the chair. Benedict found himself feeling very stropy at the thought of taking on the responsibility to make sure Donna was on time for her date with James.  
  
 _It would be such a pity if she were to sleep in, but I’ve already promised to wake her....’try’ and wake her._  
   
“Goodnight, Benedict.”  
  
“Goodnight, Donna.”  
  
Benedict Cumberbatch closed his eyes and fell asleep as he fantasized of ways to sabotage Donna’s date with James.  
  
  
  
  
Donna Saint James sat beside her father, Neil Saint James, in the white Rolls Royce that was parked in front of the Church of the Epiphany on East 21st Street in Gramercy Park.  She was wearing a beautiful Vera Wang wedding gown and a Swarovski crystal tiara held the cathedral-length veil on her head.  The bridal party had just gone into the church’s lobby to await the go ahead to begin the processional. Donna’s brother, Kenny, rushed out of the church, down the steps and opened the door for Donna and her father to get out.  
  
“It’s time!” Kenny said with a huge smile as he leaned in.  “Hope you two are ready to be the center of attention.  The church is packed!  I even think some tourists sneaked in to watch.”  
  
Donna beamed and nodded eagerly. _I can’t wait to walk down the aisle!_  
  
“So, are you ready to get married?” asked Neil.  
  
“You bet I am!” exclaimed Donna as she gave her hand to her brother to help her out of the car.  The full skirt of the gown billowed around her as she stepped out onto the sidewalk.  
  
“You look gorgeous, Sis,” smiled Kenny as he leaned down to kiss Donna on the cheek.    
  
“Thanks, Kenny.”  
  
The ever-present photographer began to snap pictures as Neil stood in front of Donna.  She noticed her father was wearing a slight frown on his face. He opened his mouth, shut it and finally decided to say what was on is mind.  
  
“Are you _sure_ you want to go through with this?”  
  
“Absolutely!” exclaimed Donna.  
  
Neil did not look entirely convinced. He took a deep breath and tried again.  
  
“It’s still not too late to back out, Muffin.”  
  
“Why on earth would I do that, Daddy?”  
  
“I think Mom and I already went over that...”  
  
“Then why start this all over again?”  
  
“Dad, everyone’s waiting...” began Kenny tapping his Rolex watch for emphasis.  “The ceremony is due to start in five minutes.  The flower girls are starting to throw their rose petals at each other and one of the ring bearers tried to put the rings up his nose....also, you know how Mom is about punctuality.”  He turned and dashed back into the church.  
  
“I never thought being Head Usher could be such a stressful job,” laughed Neil, shaking his head.  “You should see him in the court room, he’s the epitome of cool and calm.  Now, where were we?”  
  
“You were trying to talk me out of getting married.” Donna touched her father’s cheek. “Please believe me when I tell you that I’ve never been more sure of anything.”  
  
“Alright then.  If you’re _absolutely_ sure....”  
  
“I _am_ , Daddy. I want this marriage to take place very much! Everything is going to work out – you’ll see!”  
  
“I suppose Kenny can always handle the divorce, but I imagine it would be very complicated given the circumstances.”  
  
“Please stop!  There’s no way I’m ever going to want a divorce!”  
  
Neil shrugged and nodded in acquiescence. “Then I’ll shut up and forever hold my peace.  Let’s get this show on the road.” He kissed her cheek and pulled the blusher veil over Donna’s face.  “You look beautiful, Donna. Just like your mother on our wedding day.”  
  
Donna blushed.  “Thank you, Daddy.  I love you,” she whispered, tears threatening to form in her eyes.  
  
“I love you more,” he smiled and wiped a tear out of his eye.  
  
“Stop that, you two!  She’s already had her makeup retouched once when Mom made her cry,” scolded Carly as she handed Donna her bridal bouquet of white and red roses and began to arrange her train and veil.    
  
 _That was because Mom was still trying her damnedest to talk me out of this!_ _I felt like I was in the courtroom, and she was pleading her case to the jury!_ thought Donna angrily.  _I will NOT let anything spoil my big day!_  
  
Neil held out his elbow for Donna to take.

“Time to marry you off!” he said with a smile.  
  
As Donna, Carly and Neil walked up the steps and towards the church’s entrance, a couple kissing in the deep shadows made by the church’s tall spire to the left of the door caught Donna’s eye.  Her father’s attention was also caught.  
  
“For the love of Pete!  Would you look at that?” Neil Saint James said in a low voice.  “Right in the shadows of God’s house.”  
  
Donna stopped to get a closer look at the couple, causing Carly to trip and stumble behind her from the sudden stop.

“It’s one of my groomsmen!” she exclaimed.  
  
“Donna!  Keep walking!  I almost stepped on your train and veil!” warned Carly from behind her.

Carly adjusted Donna’s train and veil before looking in the direction that her sister and father were.

“What are we holding up the wedding to look at that’s so  fascinating?”  
  
“I can’t see his face because she’s wearing such a damn big hat! Who in the hell wears hats like that nowadays?” Neil inquired. “The church stopped requiring head coverings years ago.”  
  
“The English, Dad. Have you forgotten part of your roots? We have a whole left side of hat-wearing women from England sitting on the Grooms’ side,” replied Carly.  “She must be one of them.”  
  
The doors to the church lobby burst open to reveal a harried-looking Kenny.  
  
“We’re ready to begin the processional!  But we can’t start because one of the grooms’ father’s isn’t accounted for!”  
  
“For God’s sake!  Who cares?” demanded Carly, looking irritated.  “The only father who counts is standing right here - spying on that couple making out in the shadows, I’d like to add.”  
  
“Whose father is missing?” asked Donna with growing concern as her brother joined them.  
  
 _Why do I suddenly have a sneaking suspicion that I know who is behind that big, pink hat?_ Donna thought with growing dread.  
  
“Benedict’s fucking father is missing!” cried Kenny, as he wrung his hands. “He was in the vestibule only a few minutes ago, then he got a call on his cellphone and vanished.  Let me see if the asshole is around back.”  With that he jogged off and disappeared around the side of the church.  
  
“Please don’t tell me _she’s_ here,” said Carly with mounting irritation.  
  
“He wouldn’t dare to bring that woman to your wedding!” scoffed Neil as he peered towards the shadows. “Then again, I only met Benedict’s father twice. Terrible actor. Do you really think that he would have the nerve to invite his trollop here?”  
  
“Dad, we’re talking about a man who meets his lover in churches,” pointed out Carly.  “I saw it with my own eyes at Saint Paul’s Cathedral.”  
  
“If it is them, they must have some kind of weird church fetish,” observed Donna dryly.  
  
Kenny returned, muttering angrily to himself.  He stopped in front of the group and threw up his arms in exasperation.  
  
“God damn it!  I just knew something would go wrong!  You would think these people could just stand still and wait...but NOOOOO they have to go walking about.  I should have nailed Benedict’s fucking feet to the floor...all he’s doing is pacing and rubbing the back of his neck, and then I found the other idiot up in the choir loft inspecting the organ. I thought perhaps he was going to entertain us with a Beethoven sonata while we waited for Benedict’s father to decide to honor us with his presence....”  
  
Kenny paused in mid-rant and looked about frantically.  He cupped his hand around his mouth and shouted, “Has anyone seen the groom’s fucking father? Hello?”  
  
“Shush!  Kenny!  You’re in front of a church,” hissed Donna. “Stop swearing for fuck’s sake!”  
  
Neil and Carly exchanged worried glances.  
  
Then Carly carefully stepped around Donna and moved closer to the couple in the shadows.  Suddenly, the woman backed away to reveal a disheveled-looking Timothy Cumberbatch. She poked her father and Donna to take a look.  
  
“It’s Timothy!”  
  
“Groom’s fucking father is present and accounted for, Kenneth!” bellowed Timothy sarcastically with a wave towards Donna’s brother.  He bent over to whisper urgently to his companion.     
  
“Is that his paramour?” whispered Neil, looking at the figure in the shadows that was clad in a bright pink suit.  “His wife is only a few feet away in the vestibule, and he’s carrying on like they’re alone.  How am I going to explain this to Matt and Marvin?  That one of your fathers-in-law is carrying on with a floozy right under his wife’s nose?”  
  
“I’m sure Father Matt’s heard it all during confession, Daddy,” remarked Donna.  “I doubt there is little that would surprise him.  Same with Rabbi Marvin.”  
  
“It’s hard to say....” said Carly, craning her neck to get a better look. “She’s got blonde hair like Wanda.”  
  
Donna stared at the mystery woman in the shadows, who gave a very loud laugh and swatted Timothy on the bottom.  
  
“I don’t have to see her.  I’d know that laugh anywhere.  It’s Wanda,” spat Donna angrily as Timothy approached them.  
  
“Oh, you look lovely, Donna! Simply lovely!” exclaimed Timothy taking her hand and kissing it.  “Just like a fairytale princess!”  
  
“Yeah, yeah, yeah – my sister looks like just like Cinderella, and I’m the Mad Hatter. Now, can you please get your ass in the church so you can pretend to be a loving husband and walk your wife down the frigging aisle before I have a stroke!” commanded Kenny, running back into the church.  
  
Timothy nodded at Kenny.  “I’ll be right there, Kenneth. You really do look beautiful, Donna,” he reiterated with a warm smile. “And to think we’ll be family in just a few minutes.”  
  
“Poor Benedict!  Does he know you’re out here carrying on like a smitten schoolboy with his teacher?” Donna snapped. “Don’t bother lying to me, Tim. That’s Wanda Ventham in the shadows. I recognize her laugh.”  
  
“How could you, Mr. Cumberbatch?” demanded Carly.  “Spoiling my sister’s wedding day like this?”  
  
Neil looked over his shoulder at the woman in the shadows, then he turned back to his daughters.

“You mean that really _is_ the shameless hussy you were telling me about?”  
  
“She’s not a hussy, though she is rather shameless,” commented Timothy with a chuckle.  
  
“Oh, Tim, how could you do this to me and worst of all to Benedict!  He’ll be beside himself when he finds out,” cried Donna.  
  
“Not to worry, Donna.  Wanda and I were going to tell him after the wedding at the reception,” laughed Timothy. “Benedict will grow to love Wanda like a mother, once he’s accepted the idea.”  
  
“Wanda isn’t welcome at our reception,” said Donna sternly.  “I’ll have her thrown out.”  
  
“But what about your wife?” asked Neil, clearly shocked.    
  
“Oh, I doubt it will come as a total surprise to her,” explained Timothy smoothing his silver hair down. “Wanda is one of my wife’s best friends. Ben knows her since he was a small.”  
  
“NOOOO!” cried Donna.  “I can’t believe you would do this to us!”  
  
“Pleaasssse, Tim!  I need you in here to escort your wife down the aisle – it’s your family’s turn,” shouted Kenny dashing over to grab Timothy by the elbow, almost yanking the older man off his feet.    
  
“Wait.  Here take this and wipe the lipstick off your mouth at least,” said Neil Saint James handing his handkerchief to Timothy.  “Let’s see if we can maintain some sense of decorum here – how about trying to act for a change and play the role of the dutiful husband for the sake of Donna and Benedict? You can break the news to your son after he returns from the honeymoon.”  
  
Timothy nodded in agreement and blew a kiss to the woman in the shadows as his disappeared after Kenny into the church. “See you later, Love! I’ll text you.”  
  
“Oh, and by the way, your last movie stank like rotten fish!” Neil called out  after him.  “You need to retire, Cumberbatch!”  
  
Donna and Carly exchanged horrified glances.  
   
“I have an awful feeling the reception is going to be reminiscent of the Hatfields and the McCoys,” commented Carly.  
  
“Now, where did his strumpet go?” asked Neil, adjusting a cufflink.  
  
The three looked back just in time to see Wanda Ventham disappear down the steps, large pink hat partly obscuring her pretty face.  
  
  
  
  
Five minutes later Donna and Neil stood in the vestibule of the church, awaiting their cue.  Finally, they heard the strains of the Wedding March, and the double wooden doors opened so they could begin their walk down the aisle to the altar.  
  
“Nervous?” Neil asked in a low voice as they began to take their first steps.  
  
“A little,” whispered Donna. “I never realized just how large this church actually is.”  
  
“Just smile and remember that this is the most important day of your life -  one that you’ve looked forward to since you were a little girl.”  
  
Donna smiled at everyone as she and her father slowly made their way down the long white-carpeted aisle, which had been strewn with red rose petals.   The church was very modernistic in design, and the futuristic white and red floral arrangements complimented it perfectly.  The left side was packed with the Grooms’ families and friends.  Some of the men on that side were wearing yarmulkes. Donna caught sight of Heather MacPherson sitting next to Hattie on the grooms’ side of the church.  Both women glared daggers at her.  
  
Finally, they arrived at the altar railing and came to a stop.  There was a canopy of white and red flowers set up on the altar, to be used as a Chuppah. Father Matt, who had baptized Donna and Carly in that very church, stood on the right side. On the left side, stood Rabbi Marvin Finkelstein, a close friend of Neil and Antonia.  Donna’s mother, dressed in her judges robes was going to officiate at the mostly civil ceremony.  
  
Her Honor Antonia Saint James smiled at the congregation and cleared her throat.    
  
“Who gives this woman in marriage?” she asked in a firm, loud voice.  
  
“I do,” responded Neil in a slightly emotional tone.  
  
Benedict Cumberbatch and James Rhodes stood side-by-side in front of the altar.  Both men were wearing contemporary black tuxedos, crisp white dress shirts and shiny black patent leather shoes.  Each man wore a small white rose in his lapel, and James wore a white satin yarmulke on his head. As soon as Neil spoke, both grooms came to stand before Donna and Neil.  
   
Neil turned to his youngest daughter, as he pulled the blusher veil back over her head and kissed her cheek.  
  
“You’re _absolutely_ sure about this?” he whispered in her ear.  
  
“Yessssss,” Donna hissed through clenched teeth.  
  
Neil shrugged.  “I give this woman to these men.”  
  
Neil held out Donna’s hand and both James and Benedict clasped it. Suddenly, Neil covered James and Benedict’s hands with his and looked both of them in the eyes.  
  
“If either or both of you make my daughter unhappy in _any_ way, you’ll be hearing from my lawyer, who will just happen to be your brother-in-law,” Neil said in a menacing low voice through gritted teeth. “Keep in mind that he hasn’t lost a case yet.  And I assure you both that I will make it my life’s mission to personally review every concert, CD, play and movie that you two ever have the misfortune to do – and when I’m done, the only place that will hire you is a chippy.”    
  
Neil let go, stepped back and smiled widely at the two grooms.  
  
“Just so we’re all on the same page,” he said with a snide smile.  
  
Benedict and James exchanged concerned looks over Donna’s head.  
  
“We won’t disappoint you, Neil,” smiled James.  
  
“Donna will be very happy with us, Neil,” chimed in Benedict.  “Promise.”  
  
Then the grooms each took one of Donna’s elbows and led her up the steps to the altar.  Benedict was on her right and James on her left.  Father Matt and Rabbi Marvin smiled pleasantly at the threesome, as Antonia began the ceremony, which was a civil one with blessings to be given by each of the clergymen afterwards.    
  
“If there is anyone present who knows why these three should not be wed, let him or her speak now or forever hold their peace,” said Antonia, who bit her tongue, as she looked out across the congregation hopefully.  
  
Donna felt her father’s eyes boring into her from behind.  Neil Saint James had not been a supporter of Donna marrying two men, and she had been fearful that he would try and stop the wedding at the last minute.  
  
 _Heather and Hattie better keep their mouths shut,_ thought Donna. _Kenny certainly paid them enough to._  
  
“No takers?” Antonia mumbled under her breath. “Damn.”  
  
“ _Enough_ , Mom!” hissed Donna through her clenched teeth.  “Please move this wedding along already!”  
  
 _Before one of them decides to speak up and forfeit the hush money!_  
  
After what seemed like an eternity, Antonia sighed and continued with the ceremony.  
  
Finally, it was time to exchange vows.  The two ring bearers stepped forward with their white velvet pillows, so the best men could take the rings to hand to their grooms. Each pillow held a gold wedding band and a thin platinum band set with diamonds and rubies.  The gold rings had been engraved:  
  
 **Ben, Donna, James 6/29/09**  
  
Antonia’s gaze swept over Benedict, James and Donna.  Donna noticed she had scowled at her grooms:    
  
“Do you James William Edward Rhodes take Donna Marie Saint James to be your wife?”  
  
“I do,” said James softly, brushing a tear from his eye.  
  
“What did you say?  I couldn’t hear you!” snapped Antonia impatiently. “And if I couldn’t hear you, no one else did.”  
  
James turned several shades of red as Donna squeezed his hand reassuringly. 

Benedict smirked and rolled his eyes, earning a glare from his bride.  
  
James cringed. “I said I do, Ma’am,” he said in a loud albeit shaky voice.  
  
“That’s _Judge_ or _Your Honor_ -  _not_ Ma’am,” corrected Antonia haughtily. ‘I am many things, but a Ma’am I am not.”  
  
“This is some honor,” muttered Benedict in a barely audible voice.

"Stop trying to humiliate him, Mother!" hissed Donna.

"So sorry. That was not my intent, Muffin."

Antonia smiled condescendingly at Donna and turned her attention to Benedict.  
  
“Do you Benedict Timothy Carlton Cumberbatch take Donna Marie Saint James to be your wife?”  
  
Benedict paused dramatically to take both of Donna’s hands in his.  He kissed both of them and looked deep into her hazel eyes.  Then he kissed her forehead.  
  
“Any day will do, Benedict,” sighed Antonia.  
  
Benedict smiled at Donna and cleared his throat.  
  
“I, Benedict Timothy Carlton Cumberbatch most certainly do take you, Donna Marie Saint James to be my wife with all my heart and soul forever and ever,” he said clearly and distinctly, voice easily carrying so all could hear.  
  
“Now, Father Matt if you would.....” began Antonia.  
  
However, Benedict was not done with his vows and continued speaking as if Antonia had said nothing.  
  
 “....I promise to do my part in this marriage to make sure you are happier than you could ever dream.  I assure you that every day that you are married to me will be filled with joy.  I will make sure to only accept roles that will allow me to work close to our home so we won’t have to be separated..."  
  
Antonia glowered at her future son-in-law and raised her voice.

“I believe Father Matt would like to bless the rings now.”  
  
Benedict simply ignored her, as he still wasn't done with his vows.  
  
“...I promise you that we will purchase a Disney Vacation Club membership at the resort of your choice.  I will remain faithful to you and promise to make sure that you will have the best sex of your life whenever it is your turn to be with me, which will be Monday, Wednesday, Friday and Saturday....”

"Bloody hell!  You get laid on four days and I only get laid on three?  That's _not_ what we discussed mate," piped up James in anger.

"James, be quiet, please.  We'll discuss this later," snapped Donna.  
  
“Benedict, we only have the church booked for thirty minutes,” hissed Donna through her teeth.

Benedict smiled at Donna and cleared his throat for his dramatic finish.  
  
...and as God is my witness, you will never go hungry or want for anything....”  
  
“Thank you, Scarlett O’Hara,” snapped Antonia with finality.    
  
“Ah, excuse me, but I vow to do the same!” chimed in James.  “Who in the hell said you could say so much, Cumberbatch; and I only get one line?” he asked Benedict indignantly.  
  
“Brevity, Benedict, please,” pleaded Donna impatiently.  
  
“You were always such a bloody showoff,” muttered James in disgust.  
  
“I love when he talks like an actor!” piped up Heather from the pew.  
  
Antonia rolled her eyes. “Always the actor,” she mumbled wearily.  
  
“And a bad one at that....just like his father,” smirked Neil loudly, causing a titter in the congregation.  
  
Antonia clapped her hands together.  
  
“Order!  Order in the church, please. Now, moving right along...do you Donna Marie Saint James take Benedict Timothy Carlton Cumberbatch and James William Edward Rhodes to be your husbands?”  
  
“You don’t have to take both you know,” Antonia stage whispered.  “Just say the word.”  
  
Donna cleared her throat and looked daggers at her mother.  
  
“I do – take _both_ of these men to be my husbands.”  
  
“Kenny’s got annulment papers prepared just in case,” Antonia added. “For one or both of them.”  
  
Antonia stepped aside so Rabbi Marvin could supervise the exchanging of the rings, after Father Matt had blessed them. Donna had moved the six-carat, emerald-cut diamond engagement ring that Benedict and James had purchased together onto her right hand. First, James slipped a thin diamond and ruby wedding band on her finger. Then Benedict slipped an identical one over it so it gave the appearance of one ring.  Donna gave Benedict his ring first, then James his.    
  
After this was done, Father Matt spoke of love and commitment and blessed the marriage.  Then Rabbi Marvin took a glass of wine for James, Benedict and Donna to drink from. Once that was done, James stomped on the glass to a round of applause and mazel tovs.    
  
“By the authority vested in me by the State of New York, I now pronounce you husbands and wife,” pronounced Antonia.  “Ladies and Gentlemen, may I introduce for the first time: Misters and Missus Benedict and James Cumberbatch-Rhodes. You may now kiss your bride, Gentlemen.”  
  
“Alright then, let’s see who gets to kiss Mrs. Cumberbatch-Rhodes first,” giggled James, taking a coin out of his pocket to flip.  
  
All of a sudden, the doors to the church flew open and in ran Ben Ventham, dressed in grooms wear identical to that of Benedict and James.  He was followed by his mother, Wanda Ventham, holding onto her huge pink hat so it wouldn’t fall off.    
  
“Stop this wedding! _Immediately_!” yelled Wanda, huffing and puffing as she ran up the aisle after her son.  “There’s been a breach of contract!  I need a lawyer tout suite!”  
  
“I’m a lawyer!” piped up Kenny from his place at the altar.  
  
“Stop the wedding!” Ben Ventham shouted, as he approached the altar.  “These three do not belong together!”  
  
“Well, aren’t you the cheeky one!” said James sarcastically. “To come busting in here thinking you can ruin our wedding.”  
  
“Sorry, but you’re too late,” smirked Benedict holding up his left hand so Ben Ventham could see his wedding band.  “We’re already married.”  
  
“Where were you half an hour ago when I needed someone to stop this debacle?” demanded Antonia.  
  
“Mum!” Benedict and James both exclaimed.  
  
“Enough Mother!” sneered Donna angrily. “I think you’ve said quite enough for one day.”  
  
Ben Ventham mounted the altar steps to stand before the threesome.  
  
“You didn’t even give me a chance, Donna!”  Ben Ventham said taking her by the arms and shaking her.  “I know I can make you far happier than either of these blokes can.”  
  
“If only you had met him at Parliament Hill Farmer’s Market, like you promised, you would know that he’s right,” said Wanda, shaking a finger a Donna, her voice seething with anger. “Instead you cancelled on me.”  
  
“What is the meaning of this?” demanded James angrily, hands on hips.  
  
“Just who in the hell are _you_?” spat Benedict.  
  
“My daughter’s late savior,” muttered Neil Saint James, who had joined the group on the altar. “Thirty minutes too late.”  
  
“I’m Wanda Ventham’s son, Ben,” explained Ben with a smile.  “My wonderful, caring mother placed an ad in Craigslist for a wife for me, and Donna responded...so in a way you could say that I’m here to collect my bride.”  
  
“Piss off, fuckwit!” shouted James, fists clenched at his sides.  “I beg to differ, mate; but she’s _our_ bride.”  
  
Benedict held up his hand to silence James.  He turned to Donna as he rubbed the back of his neck.  
  
 “You did _what_?”  
  
“It was nothing really, Benedict,” began Donna quietly.  “There’s no need for either you or James to be concerned.....”  
  
“She answered my ad for a wife for my Ben,” explained Wanda, butting in. “Now, do the proper thing and have this sham of a marriage annulled so my son can have what’s rightfully his.”  
  
“Bollocks!” thundered Benedict.  
  
“Bullshit!” shouted James.  
  
“Gentlemen!” admonished Father Matt.  “Please curb your swearing! After all, this is a church.”  
  
“Why don’t we all go into the sacristy and talk this over peacefully,” suggested Rabbi Marvin. “Rather than making a scene in the church.”  
  
“I’m not _anyone’s_ possession!” said Donna angrily, stepping in between her husbands and Ben Ventham. “I’m perfectly capable of making up my own mind.”  
  
“I’m not so sure about that! Maybe you can explain to us why you married two men then?” inquired Hattie, climbing the steps to confront Donna.  
  
Donna looked around at all the accusing faces now surrounding her. She felt light headed and dizzy.  
  
“I just couldn’t decide,” she said meekly.  
  
“Let me make sure I understand this. You stooped so low as to answer a personal ad?” scoffed James, scratching his beard in puzzlement.  “While you were dating us?”  
  
“This must be some sick joke,” Benedict said under his breath to James. “Donna would never answer a personal ad.”  
  
“It was before I met either of you.  I was lonely and disenchanted with dating, and one night I was looking for a sous chef for Carldonn....  
  
“You were looking for dates instead of sous chefs?” asked Carly in bewilderment.  “For God’s sake, Donna.  No wonder we wound up with George! You were too busy scheming with Wanda behind my back rather than help me find a competent sous chef?”  
  
“Who said I was incompetent? I’ve won awards for my cooking!” exclaimed George the sous chef from the second pew.  “No one has _ever_ sent back my food!”  
  
“Shut up!” Everyone yelled at George.  
  
“We weren’t scheming.  We were making plans,” scoffed Wanda, nose in the air. “There’s a difference, you know.”  
  
“Please let me finish!” interrupted Donna.  “Anyway, I was looking for a sous chef and then somehow I just happened to come across Wanda’s ad...”  
  
“...in the want ads for chefs then,” finished James.  He shook his head in bafflement.  “I don’t know if I buy into that, Donna.”  
  
“My ad was in the ‘Situations Wanted’ section,” clarified George, patting the arm of the girl sitting beside him. “I already have a girlfriend. Molly. She's right here sitting with me. I don’t give a fig where Donna was looking, but I need to make it clear that I wasn’t listed in the personal ads.”  
  
“Shut up!” Everyone yelled at George.  
  
Benedict rubbed his index finger over his upper lip.  “Erm...are you a chef then?” he asked Ben Ventham.  
  
“No.  I’m the Vice President of BBC’s Programming Development,” Ben said proudly.  
  
“My son makes two million quid a year,” announced Wanda proudly.  “You should see the ten-bedroom home he has in Islington - with an indoor pool and full gym.  His garage has a Rolls Royce, Jaguar, Mercedes Benz and two Lamborghini's. He owns a vacation villa in the south of France and is a Disney Vacation Club member...”  
  
“Ooooo...which resort?” asked Donna excitedly.  
  
“The Animal Kingdom Lodge in Walt Disney World,” replied Ben Ventham.  “It’s my favorite.”  
  
“Mine, too!” exclaimed Donna. “Could we go there for our honeymoon?”  
  
“But of course,” said Ben Ventham.  “I can book us the Presidential Suite. It has plenty of bedrooms and has a marvelous Savannah view.  Just think – we can sit on our private balcony and watch the giraffes in the mornings.”  
  
Benedict and James both looked at Donna as if she had grown another head.  
  
“And you didn’t think to tell us about it?  Did it ever occur to you that James and I might be interested in how you went shopping for a husband on Craigslist?” asked Benedict, voice dripping with sarcasm. “This is positively terrifying!”  
  
Donna blushed.  “It was no big deal. I got bored looking at the chefs resumes and wound up reading the personal ads.  When I came across Wanda’s, I thought it sounded very interesting, so I responded.”  
  
“All hoopla aside, she backed out of our commitment!” said Wanda coming to stand by her son.  “She was supposed to meet Ben, but changed her mind.”  
  
“I wish she had changed her mind about all of them,” murmured Antonia.  
  
Wanda tapped Kenny on the shoulder. “You’re a lawyer, can I sue your sister for breach of verbal contract?”  
  
“Well, I’d have to have a substantial retainer and do some research,” began Kenny. “Perhaps we could discuss this in detail at the reception over a drink?”

"She's not welcome at our reception!" shouted Donna.  
  
“How could you do that to the poor bugger?” James asked Donna as he indicated Ben Ventham.  “I kind of feel sorry for him.”  
  
Benedict rubbed his thigh and wrung his hands.  “Do you realize this whole scenario is just preposterous, Donna?  I don’t think I can live with James and this sodding excuse for a man.”  
  
“Hey!  Wait just a damn minute, now!” said Ben Ventham, shaking his finger in Benedict’s face.  “You need to bugger off. I’m not sodding in any way, shape or form, you dick. I resent the way you’re treating me.  I may not be posh like you.....”  
  
“I’m _not_ posh,” insisted Benedict, with a toss of his head.  “I’m middle class.”  
  
“You know, I can prevent you from doing _any_ work for the BBC,” said Ben Ventham with a scowl.  
  
“No loss,” added Neil Saint James.    
  
“Actually, he’s part posh,” corrected Timothy, mounting the steps to the altar to join the group.  “I come from a posh background.  His mother didn’t.”  
  
“That’s a crock of crap if ever I heard one!” exclaimed Ben Ventham, stepping closer to Benedict.  “You and your fancy boarding school.  I have a good mind to knock you on your posh arse.”  
  
“Stop threatening my pal!” yelled James, shoving Ben Ventham aside.  “He’s _not_ posh. And it shouldn’t matter what in the fuck anyone is.”  
  
Ben Ventham snickered, “I’d like to see you try, mate!” And with that he shoved James in return so the pianist lost his balance and fell on his backside where the crushed glass lay.  
  
“Owwwww!  I think I’ve got glass in my arse!” howled James.  “Is there a doctor in the church?”  
  
“Right here!” yelled Steven Cipriano as he mounted the steps.  “I need to get him into the Sacristy, so I can take a look. Carly, I need you to call an ambulance. Stat. Father Matt, do you have a medical kit I can use in the interim?”  
  
“Yes.  I’ll get it for you, Doctor.”  
  
“I see blood!” squealed Donna.  “He’s bleeding, Steve!  Do something!”  
  
Steven and three ushers quickly carried James into the sacristy so he could tend to his wounds.  
  
“How _dare_ you push my best friend around!” Benedict took a swing at Ben Ventham, who easily ducked it.  
  
“By the way, Jimmy can sue Mr. Ventham for assault and battery,” Kenny said to Donna.    
  
Ben Ventham sneered at Benedict.  “It appears they failed to teach you boxing at Eton,” he taunted.  “All that tuition money gone to waste on you two ponces.”  
  
“Harrow!” exclaimed Benedict.  “We went to motherfucking Harrow!”  
  
“Everyone! Just shut up!  _Please!_ ” shouted Donna.  “I’m sure the four of us can work something out.  I never meant to hurt you, Ben...it’s just that these two...”  
  
“I don’t want to hear anymore!” said Ben Ventham, covering his ears as he turned his back away from Donna. “You would rather spend the rest of your life with an arrogant posh Tory actor and a timid little piano player who smokes like a chimney.”  
  
Benedict held up his hand.  “I’ve already told you - I’m _not_ posh, and I’m _not_ a Tory!” he thundered.  
  
“Well, James does smoke,” said Donna. “But I insisted he sign a contract stating that he wouldn’t smoke in the house or my presence.”  
  
Wanda slowly circled Donna like a shark.  “You should have given my son the chance he deserved,” she said in a menacing voice.  “You would have found him to be better than these two burks.”  
  
All of a sudden, Heather MacPherson came up behind Donna and shoved her.  Donna lost her balance and fell on her bottom.  She heard her veil rip and her tiara came off and bounced down the steps.  
  
“If you had stayed with James, then Benedict could have been mine!  You are such a selfish little tart!” she shrieked as Benedict helped Donna to her feet.  “I don’t want your hush money,” she said to Kenny, flinging a check at him.  “I just want to say my piece!”  
  
“That’s right!  As if one man isn’t enough for you!” chimed in Hattie, who came stomping out of the sacristy. “I’m the one James should have married!  We are totally devoted to music.  Hell, you can’t even tell the difference between Chopin and Beethoven.”  
  
Tears streamed down Donna’s face as she touched Ben Ventham’s cheek.

“I am so sorry, Ben...maybe we can add you onto the marriage license....”  
  
“Now we’re talking!” cried Wanda happily clapping her hands together. “Can you add him on as the third husband?” she asked Antonia, who nodded her head.  
  
Neil Saint James looked flabbergasted. “You want _another one_ , Muffin?”  
  
“Hold it!” shouted Benedict, stamping his foot.  He stared at Donna, ice blue eyes flashing in anger.  “You can’t have three husbands, Donna; and I’m starting to think that having two was a mistake.”  
  
“I think you’re right, Benedict,” agreed James, who was being carried out on a stretcher to a waiting ambulance. “You have to make a choice, Donna.  Which one of us do you really want?”  
  
“I can’t make up my mind!” cried Donna as she blew her nose on her veil.  “I want all three of you – we can make it work – I know we can.”  
  
“I think you should have taken only one husband, but what do I know? I’m only your mother after all,” scoffed Antonia, adjusting her judge’s robe.    
  
“Things will be so much easier with one husband,” added Neil.  
  
“Antonia’s right.  You need to choose one of us,” said Benedict.  “We’ll divorce the odd man out.”  
  
“Agreed,” said James.  “So which of us do you really want, Donna?” he asked as he took a cigarette from his jacket pocket and lit it.  
  
“Well, she certainly won’t want you smoking all the time,” smirked Benedict.  
  
“If I’m not the chosen one, perhaps you would consider taking me as a lover,” suggested James hopefully.  “I’ve been told I’m a ball of fire in bed.”  
  
Hattie glared at him as she removed the cigarette from his mouth and snuffed it out on his hand.  
  
“Owwwwww! What the fuck?” yelped James in pain. “I need my hands to make a living!”  
  
“Ooops,” said Hattie innocently.  “Was that your hand, Jimmy? So sorry!”  
  
“I’m the one you really want,” said Ben Ventham, walking slowly towards Donna.  “You know you do!”  
  
“Besides if you pick him, you get me as a mother-in-law!” chimed in Wanda with glee.  “We can go shopping and have tea together.”  
  
“But you’ll lose me as a father-in-law,” pointed out Timothy sadly as he stood by Wanda and joined hands with her.  
  
“Not if you divorce her and marry me!” suggested Wanda with a wink, as she pointed at Timothy’s wife.  
  
“Well, who do you really want, Donna?” asked Benedict.  
  
Donna’s head was whirling as she tried to make up her mind. Benedict, James and Ben’s faces kept flashing before her eyes, as she covered her ears to keep from hearing them all trying to persuade her.  
  
Suddenly, it became clear as day to Donna Saint James, as she caught sight of Benedict bending down to retie one of his shoes.  His trouser leg rode up, exposing his black sock. To Donna’s delight, his sock was covered with little owls dressed as brides and grooms with wedding bells. She threw down her bouquet and walked over to stand before Benedict Cumberbatch.  
  
“I want _you_ , Benedict Cumberbatch!  I always have,” she said grinning up at him.  
  
Benedict leaned over and kissed her so hard, Donna thought she would surely swoon.  “Hello, Mrs. Cumberbatch,” he whispered when their lips finally parted.  “Let’s skip the reception and go straight to the honeymoon!”  
  
Hattie patted Donna on the shoulder.  “Excellent choice, if I must say so myself,” she smiled as James was carried out of the church.  “I hope you can arrange for an annulment as soon as possible, so I can marry James,”  she called back over her shoulder to Antonia, as she followed the stretcher.  
  
Benedict offered his arm to Donna.  “Shall we go then?”  
  
“I don’t think so!” Heather MacPherson flounced over and spun Donna around to confront her.  
  
“Well, I’m glad to see _someone’s_ happy with your choice – I’m _NOT_!” she screamed at the top of her lungs.  “I wanted Benedict to myself.  It’s _not_ fair!  You could have chosen Ben Ventham!  Why did you do this to me?  Was it because of the rice incident at Grand Imperial? I saved you from embarrassment!  I scraped it all off the table so no one would see what a mess the famous food critic made!”  
  
As Donna opened her mouth to defend herself, Heather picked up Donna’s bridal bouquet and began to hit her over the head with it.  
  
“I hate you for doing this!  I hate you!  I hate you - you bitch! Hate you, hate you.....” she howled.  
  
  
  
  
Donna Saint James slowly opened her eyes and tried to focus on her surroundings.  She was lying on her back in the king-sized bed in her apartment.  All she knew for sure was that her head was pounding, her stomach felt queasy, her mouth was dry; and she felt like crap in general.  
  
 _Why am I so thirsty?  My mouth tastes like shit.  Ugh!  I must have a sinus headache.  Why can’t I move? I’m so tired. Maybe I have the flu?_  
  
Donna pulled herself into a sitting position, pushed her pillow against the headboard and leaned back.  Her head felt like it had cotton stuffed in it and the pounding was worse when she sat up.  She took a deep breath and took stock of the situation.  
  
 _Gosh, I don’t remember too much about last night.  Benedict and I had dinner at the pub...I remember singing?  Benedict was here.  He put me in bed....I wonder if he’s still here?_  
  
Donna saw her shoes on the floor next to the armchair by the window.  The box of tissues was sitting on her nightstand and the wastebasket had been moved beside her bed.    
  
 _I’m still wearing last night’s clothes....except for my bra.  I wonder what happened to it?  Did Benedict take it off?  Did we do anything?  Oh my God – I need to know what happened and get some Tylenol into me.  I must really be sick._  
  
Donna dragged herself out of the bed and steadied herself by holding onto the nightstand.  The smell of coffee and frying bacon wafted into the bedroom.  She could hear faint humming and what sounded like Sigur Ros playing softly from her sound system in the living room.  
  
 _That sounds like Benedict – he’s still here. I know he likes Sigur Ros._  
  
Donna turned to study the bed, and concluded that she was the only one who had slept in it.  One of the pillows was missing.  
  
 _What an awful dream I had last night!  However, one good thing came of it.  I now know that Benedict is the one I want to be dating exclusively.  I’m done with open dating, and I’m going to tell him as soon as I can get myself together._  
  
Donna grimaced at her reflection in the mirror on the wall.  Her hair was mussed and her makeup smeared all over her face.  She was starting to feel a  bit queasy again.  
  
 _UGH!  I look like something the cat dragged in as Nona would say._  
  
Donna Saint James gathered some clean clothes together and made her way to the bathroom to make herself presentable.  The one thought in her mind that made her smile was that she had decided Benedict Cumberbatch was without question the man for her.  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I have no idea what James Rhodes’ middle name(s) is (are), so I improvised.
> 
> 2\. I made my own hash of the wedding ceremony, combining a little bit of Catholic, Jewish and Civil. After all, it is Donna’s dream. :-)
> 
> 3\. The Mad Hatter’s Tea Cups refers to a spinning ride in both Disneyland and the Magic Kingdom at Walt Disney World.
> 
> 4\. The Church of the Epiphany really does exist on East 21st Street in the Gramercy Park section of NYC (where Donna’s parents live).
> 
> 5\. James Rhodes is Jewish, therefore the yarmulke and chuppa.
> 
> 6\. Donna is Catholic.
> 
> 7\. I believe Benedict Cumberbatch is Anglican (Church of England) and not a Tory – if any of my lovely UK readers know, please speak up. 
> 
> 8\. Donna’s Vera Wang gown, but with a red tulle belt: http://www.davidsbridal.com/Product_Ball-Gown-with-Asymmetrically-Draped-Bodice-VW351007_Bridal-Gowns-Personalize-Your-Look-Color-Accents
> 
> 9\. Donna’s tiara: http://www.stem-florists.co.uk/Large%20Wedding%20Portfolio%20photos/Tiaras/Crystal/Burgundy%20&%20AB%20Crystal%20Tiara.JPG
> 
> 10\. Presidential Suite at Walt Disney Worlds’ Animal Kingdom Lodge:  
> http://jefflangedvd.com/2011/04/disneys-animal-kingdom-lodge-royal-asante-presidential-suite-tour-walt-disney-world-photos-video/
> 
> 11\. I recently posted Chapter 7 of my other story: Selling Holmes, which is Sherlock story. Feel free to check it out. Here is the link:  
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/992296/chapters/1960489
> 
> 12\. The Hatfields and the McCoys were two feuding families in the Southern US - the feud was legendary and lasted for decades.


	48. Chapter 48

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This week an extra long chapter in honor of Benedict’s 38th birthday and to celebrate the one year anniversary of my posting the first chapter of this story!!! 
> 
> My deepest and heartfelt thanks to all my lovely readers whose support continues to encourage me to continue with this labor of love. :-) 
> 
> *********************************************************** 
> 
> Benedict has a dream, which only reinforces his insecurities about James. Carly and Benedict get off on the wrong foot.

  
Benedict Timothy Carlton Cumberbatch stood off to the side at his wedding reception at Barbecoa watching James Rhodes and their wife glide effortlessly around the dance floor to the Bee Gees song _How Deep is Your Love_.  Even though he and James had agreed to share Donna Saint James as their wife, it still bothered him just a bit. Benedict grimaced as the other dancing couples stopped to watch James gracefully spin Donna and dip her in the center of the floor.  Everyone cheered and applauded.  James gave a dimpled smile, blushed and bowed; while Donna giggled, curtsied and whispered to her new husband before kissing him soundly on the lips.  
  
“I think you could use this, judging by the scowl on your face,” said Adam Ackland, handing Benedict a flute of Dom Perignon champagne.  “I honestly didn’t think I would see the green-eyed monster surface so soon after the ceremony.”  
  
Benedict accepted the champagne flute and took a small sip, as the band began to play _(I’ve Had) The Time of My Life_.

“Is it that obvious?”  
  
Adam nodded.  “To me it is, but then I’m your best friend, so I’m attuned to your many miserable moods. The groom should not be jealous of his wife on his wedding day.”  
  
“If he’s sharing his bride with another man, he is,” Benedict sipped more champagne, feeling it warm his throat as it went down.  He looked at the glass longingly. “I shouldn’t be drinking anymore, I don’t want to be off my face on my wedding night.”  
  
“I can’t even imagine how you’re going to pull that off,” mused Adam, glancing at his friend sideways. “I think I would have booked a two-bedroom honeymoon suite – if there is such a thing.” He raised his eyebrows questioningly at his friend.  
  
Benedict remained silent, engrossed in the action on the dance floor. James had twirled Donna around and lifted her as she squealed with delight.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!  He’s been watching _Dirty Dancing_ again!” said Benedict, rolling his eyes. “Hasn’t anyone told him that he’s a piss sorry substitute for John Travolta?”  
  
“He’s more like James Revolta,” quipped Adam, shaking his head. “Mr. Rhodes is acting quite the show off tonight.”  
  
“I may seriously have to puke in one of those flower arrangements behind us,” said Benedict, rubbing the back of his neck.  
  
Adam poked his friend in the arm.  “Now, are you going to answer my question about the honeymoon suite or continue to sulk and ignore me?  My feelings are very easily hurt you know.”  
  
Benedict remained silent, lips drawn into a straight line.  He clenched his jaw, eyes glued to the couple in the center of the dance floor.  
  
“Well, _is_ there?” Adam probed with a raised eyebrow, as he poked Benedict again to get his attention.  
  
“Nope.  We have a standard honeymoon suite with one king-sized bed,” sighed Benedict.  “It was Donna’s idea that the three of us should bond from the start.”  
  
“Jesus!  I really don’t think I could do that...I mean....everyone together....,” exclaimed Adam, sounding horrified.  “That would be like you and me in bed with Alice.”  He paused and shook his head adamantly. “No. I couldn’t do that, no matter _how_ fond I am of you.”  
  
Benedict gave his friend a sideways glance. “Don’t all those times we played pirate in the playground count for something?”  he chuckled.    
  
“No,” replied Adam firmly. “Not even all the times when we sneaked spliffs in your garage.”  
  
Benedict sighed and shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

“Speaking of spliffs, I could use one now. I’m feeling more and more...”  
  
“Twitchy,” finished Adam. “You’re definitely getting twitchy, Ben.”  
  
“Do you have any?”  
  
“Of course not!  That was years ago.  Alice would have my head.”  
  
“I could really use something to take the edge off,”  Benedict whined.  
  
“As your best man, I can’t have the groom getting all twitchy because he’s starting to work himself into a jealous rage. That’s why I brought you a nice, cold glass of champagne to take the edge off. Now shut up and drink it!”  
  
The band had struck up another Bee Gees tune, _More Than a Woman_.  The other dancers shouted for James and Donna to dance again.  
  
“Not only has the dick been watching _Dirty Dancing_ , but it seems he’s also been watching _Saturday Night Fever_ ,” quipped Adam.  
  
Donna blew a kiss to Benedict as she whirled past him, and James did likewise.  Benedict pasted on a fake smile and blew a kiss back to his bride.    
  
“I hope the wanker wasn’t expecting me to blow him a kiss! Maybe I should get pissed tonight,” mumbled Benedict angrily.  He brought the flute to his lips and let the bubbles tickle his nose.  
  
“I have to admit that Rhodes is surprisingly light on his feet,” commented Adam. “I don’t _ever_ recall him being so graceful whenever we went out dancing.”    
  
“Just look at the tit - waltzing my wife – our wife - around the dance floor like he’s Fred Astaire,” said Benedict testily, gesturing towards James. “I bet the prick took dancing lessons, so he could show off just for tonight. He could _never_ dance like that!  He’s been out there for such a long time – you would think the motherfucker would be knackered by now.”  
  
“Come on, Ben. They haven’t been dancing all _th_ at long.”  
  
Benedict looked at his watch.  “Bollocks! He’s been dancing with her for the past half hour!  When’s my turn?”  
  
“You had your turn.  You’ve been dancing with Donna for most of the night, I might add,” corrected Adam.  “You know, I’ve been thinking you may be right about the dance lessons. Look how adept he is; and I’ve also been thinking...”  
  
“My father would tell you that thinking is a dangerous pastime,” laughed Benedict bitterly. “Oh, fuck me!  This is a party, and I’m going to party.” He tossed back the remainder of the champagne and set the flute down on an empty tray as a butler passed by.  
  
“Are you sure you’re doing – did – the right thing, Ben?” asked Adam with growing concern.  “This whole shared marriage idea....” he let his words trail off as Benedict shot him a withering look.  
  
“There was no other way she would have me, Adam!  Donna couldn’t make up her mind.  She kept insisting that she loves us both equally and that we can all co-exist happily under the same roof.”  
  
Adam smirked.  “Remains to be seen.  I’m afraid tonight will tell the truth.”  
  
Benedict huffed as he crossed his arms to watch James pull Donna closer to him as they slow-danced to the Bee Gees _How Deep is Your Love?_. They were both laughing and seeming to have a very enjoyable time as they gazed into each others eyes.  
  
“For fuck’s sake!  Almost all the songs are from the _Saturday Night Fever_ soundtrack.  Who in bloody hell’s idea was that?” asked Adam, scratching his head in puzzlement.  
  
Benedict sighed deeply.  “Probably Rhodes’ dancing instructor.  Look over there.  Next to the potted palm at the edge of the dance floor.  The tall man with the long face and ginger hair, wearing the tacky white vintage disco suit, pink shirt with the wide collar and white patent shoes...”  
  
“Oh.  I thought he was one of your cousins...”  
  
“Piss off!” snapped Benedict.  “Watch closely.  Every now and then, Jimmy looks off towards him; and the man gives him some kind of hand signal or does a little dance step.”  
  
Adam and Benedict focused on the man for a few seconds.  Suddenly, Adam noticed James gaze intently at the man in the white suit and felt Benedict suddenly grab his forearm and squeeze it.    
  
“There! See?  He just did it!  Like this.”    
  
Benedict expertly imitated the dance step that the man had done. He stopped, spread his hands and grinned.  “And that’s how it’s done!”  
  
“You mean he’s being coached?” asked Adam incredulously.  
  
“Yep. Can you imagine?” Benedict snickered.  
  
“That’s motherfucking priceless!” Adam roared with laughter.  
  
“And if I weren’t so fucking angry, I’d find it very funny.”  
  
Adam noticed that Benedict’s lips threatened to turn up, and he suddenly guffawed along with his friend.  The two men laughed until tears formed in their eyes.  
  
“This is fucking absurd!” snorted Adam.  “I can’t believe he’s doing this!”  
  
“I can’t wait until I get him alone later,” smirked Benedict.    
  
“Whoa!  Too much information, Ben!” said Adam, holding up his hands.  
  
Benedict rolled his eyes.    
  
“Oh, fuck you!”  
  
“Please, Ben.  One man at a time.”  
  
Benedict ignored Adam.  
  
“What I meant was, I bet Donna has no idea what’s going on,” clarified Benedict. “When we’re alone, I plan to bring it up in front of Donna and humiliate the shit out of the cheeky bastard.”  
  
“My humble advice, for what it’s not worth is: don’t get petty, Ben.  Just suck it up.”  
  
“No fucking way will that ever happen!” snorted Benedict at Adam’s double entendre.  “Good one,”  he patted Adam on the back.  
  
“My job as Best Man  is to keep my groom happy.”  
  
The two men stood side-by-side, smiling slightly as they watched Donna and James continue to dance as the band began to play _If I Can’t Have You_ by the Bee Gees.  
  
“Look!  Donna’s positively glowing! Did she look that happy when she was dancing with me?” Benedict asked in a petulant tone.  
  
Adam smiled and nodded.  “Yeah, she did.  I might even venture to say that she looked happier with you, Mate.”  
  
“I didn’t realize it was part of the Best Man’s duties to lie to the groom,” said Benedict sadly.  “I bet Robert was telling Jimmy the same thing when I was dancing with Donna.”  
  
Adam patted Benedict’s shoulder. “Then Robert would be the one who’s lying.  I know what I saw Ben, and I still say Donna favours you over Rhodes.”  
  
“Then why did she have to marry both of us?”  
  
“Oh, Benedict!  Here you are!” exclaimed Wanda, rushing over to join them.  “I’ve been looking all over for you.”  
  
Adam patted Benedict on the shoulder again.  “I’ll leave you two alone to have a mother-son chat.  My crystal ball shows that Alice wants to dance.” He leaned over to kiss Wanda on the cheek.  “You look lovely tonight, Wanda.  See you both later.”  
  
Wanda stood back to admire her son in his morning suit.  
  
“You really do make a very handsome groom, Ben!  The mother-son dance is coming up soon.  Since we’re doing everything in alphabetical order, we’re up first.  It’s too bad Georgina got stropy and put her foot down about separate dances.  I wanted to do the dance together; but she just had to have the dance floor all to herself with her son.”  
  
“Well, Mother, Jimmy does have to get his money’s worth from all those dance lessons he took,” scoffed Benedict.  “That’s why Georgina wants him to be the center of attention.”  
  
Wanda fixed her son with a startled look.  “Really?”  
  
“Yep.  To add insult to injury, the prick’s dance instructor is here to coach him.  The man over there,” replied Benedict, pointing to the ginger-haired man.  
  
“I thought he was one of our guests on the Cumberbatch side.  He resembles you.”  
  
“Sorry to disappoint you, Mum.”  
  
Wanda paused to watch as James twirled Donna around and picked her up and slowly made a circle while he held onto her.  Then he set her down and they joined hands as they began to rotate in a circle, faster and faster.  The other dancers stopped and made a circle around them, cheering and applauding the couple.  
  
“Would you look at him?  Dancing out there just like a professional. I must say that he got his money’s worth,” said Wanda, obviously impressed.  
  
 Benedict cleared his throat.  “So, getting back to the Mother-Son dance, what song did they settle on?”  
  
“ _You are the Sunshine of My Life_.”  
  
“And what are we dancing to?”  Benedict asked.  “I hope it’s nothing too sentimental...I tend to cry at these things as is.”  
  
“ _In My Life_.  You know how I love the Beatles,” replied Wanda with a smile.  
  
 _Christ! I get misty-eyed just hearing that song on the radio.  I’m going to cry my eyes out._  
  
“I wish we had their song.  It’s a bit more upbeat,” said Benedict longingly.  
  
“It would have been my first choice, too, to be honest.  However, when the cow carried on that we had to have two separate dances, I insisted that we do it in alphabetical order then.  Cumberbatch trumps Rhodes, so after we finished sorting it all out, we go first while she got first dibs on the song.”  
  
Benedict frowned and clenched his jaw in annoyance.  Wanda linked her arm with his and reached up with the other to pat his cheek.  
  
“This is absolutely ridiculous, Mum.”  
  
“Well, we had to make a compromise somewhere, Ben. That’s what happens with in-laws,” she sighed and shrugged.  “By the way, are the Rhodes’ considered my in-laws, too, then?”  
  
“No, Mum.  They’re not considered mine either.  Just Donna’s parents.”  
  
Wanda threw up her hands.  “This has got to be the most complicated wedding I’ve ever been to!”  She began to tick off on her fingers:  “Two grooms, two best men – and that Robert gave one of the longest speeches ever!  He kept going on and on about how wonderful Jimmy is and how he managed to triumph over adversity.  Why your father fell asleep!"

"Truth be told, Robert's speech made me cry, Mum.  It was quite touching."

"You're just soppy, Benedict," laughed Wanda.

"I prefer to think of myself as sensitive and sentimental."

"In other words: soppy."

Benedict shrugged.  "I suppose I am...."

"Now, Adam knew how to make a Best Man speech. Short and sweet."

"Personally, I felt it was a bit short.  When I served as his Best Man, mine was a bit longer."

Wanda stared at Benedict. "You call half an hour a bit?"

"You exaggerate, Mum!" laughed Benedict.

"You had the largest wedding party I've ever seen," continued Wanda. "Two ring bearers, four flower girls – were four bloody flower girls really necessary, Ben?  Twelve groomsmen, three officiates for the ceremony, twelve brides maids, two chief bridesmaids – why did Donna have so many attendants?”  
  
“She had to match the number of groomsmen. Jimmy and I each had six.”  
  
Benedict was relieved when he caught sight of Timothy coming towards them.  
  
 _Thank God!  He’ll distract her before I go outside and throw myself under the first fucking night bus that comes along...._  
  
Wanda continued to prattle on.  “........look at all these guests! Why I don’t even know most of them!”  
  
“That’s because two-thirds of them aren’t ours,” laughed Benedict.  
  
“Let me tell you, Benedict,” Wanda whispered.  “That was the oddest wedding meal I’ve every had!  I’ve never had three tastings of each course.  Matzo ball soup....”  
  
“That was for Jimmy’s family...”  
  
“.....Italian Wedding Soup.”  
  
“That was for Donna’s family...”  
  
“..Consommé with foie gras dumplings...”  
  
“That was for our side.”  
  
“Oh.  That one was the best.”  
  
Benedict smiled indulgently as Timothy reached them and put an arm around Wanda’s shoulders and hugged her.  
  
“What are we talking about?”  
  
“The weird wedding meal,” replied Benedict sarcastically.  
  
“Oh, I thought it was delicious and great fun,” said Timothy.  “Jamie Oliver did himself proud. We got a chance to taste something from each background.  Everyone is just raving that it was genius! Who’s the Grumpy Gus that was complaining?”  
  
Benedict indicated Wanda with a slight nod of his head.  
  
“Dad, allow me to introduce you to Gus.”  
  
Timothy stared at her.  “Really, pet?”  
  
“Don’t get me wrong, Tim.  Everything was superb.  I love that Jamie closed the restaurant and transformed it into such a smart wedding venue.  I just thought it was...disjointed somehow.  It should have been all Italian cuisine or all barbecue or whatever.  Just keeping with one theme.  This wedding has just been nutters. I wish I could think of something positive....”  
  
“Three times as many gifts,” chimed in Timothy. “Three delicious wedding cakes.”  
  
“Ours was the best,” commented Benedict. “You can’t go wrong with chocolate, toffee and bananas.”  
  
“What you both said is true. Those are definite positives,” said Wanda.  “But the cake cutting ceremony was a right mess.  Everyone feeding each other cake.  It reminded me of a Roman orgy!”  
  
“No, _that_ happens later,” muttered Benedict in disgust.  
  
Timothy poked him.  “You wanted this, Benedict.  You made your bed, and now you’ll have to lie in it with both of them.”  
  
“Look on the bright side, Dear. You might find it very erotic and fun,” said Wanda with a wink.  “I’ve always wondered what a threesome would be like...”  
  
“And I’m afraid you’ll have to die wondering,” snapped Timothy.  “That’s not my cup of tea.”  
  
“Neither is it mine,” sighed Benedict.  “But if this is the only way for me to have Donna as my wife – then so be it.”  
  
Wanda frowned.  “How will we know which grandchildren are ours?”  
  
“Jimmy and I will take DNA tests once any babies are born. It’s the only way I’ll know which are mine for certain.” Benedict rubbed his hands together nervously. “Well, I’m done with being verbal.  Time for dancing – with my wife,” he said as he strode purposefully onto the dance floor to cut in.  
  
The band began to play _Jive Talkin_ ’ by the Bee Gees.  Benedict pretended to playfully push James aside and began to dance with Donna. He snapped his fingers and swiveled his hips to the beat, as the guests stood around them and clapped their hands to the music.  
  
“You’re quite sexy on the dance floor, Mr. Cumberbatch,” Donna said to him with a sly smile as she danced closer to him. Benedict smiled down at her as she grinded her hips up against his. "I can't wait to see what you can do in the bedroom."  
  
************************************************************  
  
Benedict suddenly found that the dance floor had somehow morphed into a hotel corridor in the Savoy Hotel.  He was standing in front of the honeymoon suite with James and Donna, each flanking him.  Donna draped herself around him and kissed his neck, then her hand reached down to stroke his crotch.  Benedict pulled away.

“Later,” he growled. “Let’s get in the bloody room first.”  
  
“Don’t be stropy, Ben. You can’t get in the room without the key, which I’ve got.  Can you move your arse over a bit?” asked James with a bit of irritation as he dangled the key in front of his face and tried to shove Benedict over with his hip.  
  
Benedict finally moved, and James unlocked the door to the honeymoon suite.  He opened it and peered inside, as his hand found the light switch.    
  
“Oh, this will do very nicely!” he said, propping the door open with the box of chocolate Grooms Cake that he had.  “Shall we, Ben?”  
  
“I’ll take her shoulders, you take her feet,” Benedict instructed James, who nodded in agreement.  
  
“What are you two talking about?” demanded Donna, looking from one to the other.  
  
“Carrying you over the thresh hold, of course,” laughed Benedict. “That is what the groom is supposed to do.”  
  
“It’s a fine and splendid time-honoured tradition,” added James with a wink.  
  
“You’re _both_ going to do it?” Donna asked in a perplexed tone.  “You’re going to take turns carrying me into the room?”  
  
“Heavens no!” giggled James.  “We already discussed how we’re going to handle it.”  
  
“We each get to carry over half of you,” Benedict said with a sly grin.  He rubbed his hands together.  “Off we go then!”  
  
“Jolly good! On the count of three then,” said James.  “One – two – three.”  
  
Donna let out a cry of surprise when Benedict put his arms under her shoulders and clasped them firmly around her middle, as James picked her up by her ankles at the same time. They looked at the doorway.  
  
“Erm...what do you think?” Benedict asked James.  
  
“I think head first.  Yeah, you definitely should go first,” replied James.  “Be careful not to drop her.”  
  
“Hey!  I feel like a sack of potatoes!” Donna exclaimed as her husbands carried her through the doorway and into the lounge area.    
  
They deposited her unceremoniously on the couch.  Then James and Benedict hurried off to take a quick peek in the bedroom.  
  
“We’ve been married ten hours and already the romance is gone,” sighed Donna, sitting up on the couch and removing her headpiece and veil.  
  
Benedict and James came back into the room.  
  
“It’s just as we saw on-line,” reported Benedict. "You're going to be over the moon, Darling."  
  
“A king-sized bed and huge loo with a soaking tub for two and walk-in shower.  All three of us will fit in the shower, but we’ll have to take turns in the bath,” James said excitedly.  
  
“I’m not bathing with you,” mumbled Benedict, taking off his jacket and tossing it on the back of an armchair.  
  
“I do believe this is where we consummate our marriage,” announced James, as he sat beside Donna and took her hand, kissing it tenderly.  
  
“Not on the couch,” chimed in Donna.    
  
“I mean in there, silly girl!” James indicated the separate bedroom with his thumb.  “We need to do this to be legally married.”  
  
“You make it sound _so_ romantic,” muttered Benedict, as he emptied his pockets. “Christ only knows how I’m going to get it up.”  
  
James snickered.  “Not my problem, mate. My pump has been primed and ready since we left the night-do.”  
  
“Well, if you two can entertain yourselves for a few minutes, I’m going to freshen up,” said Donna removing her heels and getting to her feet.  She paused to kiss both of them on the lips.  “I’ll see you two in the bedroom in say – half an hour!”  
  
Benedict and James exchanged looks as Donna disappeared into the master bedroom and closed the door behind her.  
  
“She said thirty minutes. We’ll each take fifteen to ready ourselves. There’s another bathroom out here.  I’ll use it first then,” said Benedict as he got down on his knees to rummage through his jam-packed suitcase looking for his pajamas.    
  
 _Let’s see....clean pants would be a must as I’ve been sweating.....but perhaps I can forgo those since I’m going to shower anyway...or maybe just pants with a dressing gown.... Nope. Not romantic enough, shows no imagination....I could just wear the dressing gown. That makes me look too eager. I think I’ll go with the white silk pajamas and no pants or dressing gown...that’s sexier...I hope._  
  
“Jimmy, erm... what are you wearing?”  
  
 _I can’t believe I just asked him that....I sound like Emmy when she’s always asking Heather what she’s wearing._  
  
Benedict heard the click of the bathroom door locking behind him. Then came the sound of the shower, and James loudly singing an Italian aria off key. He looked up and pounded his fist into the clothing in the suitcase.  
  
 _He’s a right bastard!  He snuck in on me while I was looking for my pajamas!  I did say I was using it first.  He’d better clean up afterwards._  
  
After ten minutes, the door to the bathroom opened and James strode out, freshly showered and shampooed.  He was wearing the white slippers and  terry cloth robe provided by the hotel. He flopped down onto the couch, tucked his legs underneath him and picked up the TV remote.  
  
“That’s what you’re wearing on your wedding night then?” asked Benedict incredulously. “The complimentary hotel robe and slippers?  My, isn’t that seductive as hell. You’re sooooo imaginative,” he smirked.  
  
James paused from surfing the channels. “You’re not the one I’m trying to seduce. Why shouldn’t I wear these? They come with the bloody room, which cost us a small fortune. Besides I’ve got a surprise on underneath, but not for your eyes,” scoffed James, nose in the air.  
  
“I’m going to see it eventually,” countered Benedict with a sneer. “Or did you forget this marriage is a threesome.”  
  
“It’s nothing you haven’t seen at Harrow,” snickered James.  “Everything is still in the same place.  I just changed things up a bit as a surprise and bought special pants for the occasion.” He resumed surfing the channels with an amused expression on his face.  “However, it will be interesting to see if she prefers her men cut or uncut.”  
  
Benedict froze, hand on the bathroom door knob.  “What in the fuck are you talking about? Why should it matter?”  
  
“Well, my guess is she’ll be happier with me, as most males in the States are cut and our wife is American. I’m willing to bet she’s never seen an uncut willy.”  
  
“I doubt she’ll even notice,” snarled Benedict.  “Once things get started.”  
  
James smirked as he stretched out his legs and crossed his ankles.

“I hope so for your sake, Ben.  Some women are turned off by it, you know.  They don’t find the foreskin attractive.  Donna may think you’re packing a sausage,”  He tittered as he selected a channel.  “Oh, look! It’s you!  There’s a rerun of _Fortysomething_ on.  My, my...how young looking you were when that was filmed.”  
  
Benedict folded his arms and laughed harshly.  
  
“Donna may think you’ve got an acorn buried in that hairy black forest you’ve got there...if she can even find it!” he taunted.  
  
“Please! I assure you that she won’t have _any_ trouble locating _my_ cock. I don’t keep it under wraps like you do.  I man scape. It’s the latest thing and supposedly much more sensitive to touch.” He glanced at Benedict sideways with a smirk on his face.  
  
Benedict looked momentarily startled.

“Christ.  I think I’m going to be sick.”  
  
“I told you I changed things up. You’ll see for yourself.  It’s actually quite attractive...though it hurts a bit when they pull the wax off.”  
  
“Fuck me!”  Benedict went into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.  
  
“No way in fucking hell!  Just the wife!” yelled James as he selected a travel program about Brazil.  
  
  
  
   
After getting himself ready, Benedict peeked out of the bathroom to find James still lying on the couch watching the telly. However, he had removed the white robe and was just clad in a pair of white cotton boxers with red hearts on them.  
  
“Are those leftover from Valentine’s Day then? For fuck’s sake – that’s how you go to your marriage bed?  In your bloody pants?”  
  
James frowned and looked down at himself.  “Nope.  No man period this month.”  
  
“Piss off,” snapped Benedict. “I just thought you’d put a little more into your appearance. Though I suppose the hearts are your idea of being sexy.  Well, let me tell you they’re not.  I find them very tacky and a complete turn off.”  
  
“Jolly good then. You’re not the one I wish to entice.” James turned off the telly and eyed Benedict up and down.  He whistled softly. “Well, don’t you look like one of the apostles in those flowing, posh, see-through silk pajamas,” he laughed.  “If only your hair was long...Donna might mistake you for Jesus...”  
  
“Shut up!” snarled Benedict.  
  
James continued to look Benedict up and down.  “No offense but those pajamas are as wrinkled as your forehead.”  
  
“I barely had enough room in my luggage to take the necessities,” retorted Benedict.  
  
James shrugged. “It’s a pity that such an expensive room didn’t come with an iron.”  
  
“There’s an iron on the shelf in the bedroom wardrobe.”  
  
“What a shame it doesn’t work then!  If I were you, I’d call the front desk and complain. They can send up a new one before Donna’s ready for us.”  
  
“Actually, I don’t know if it works or not.”  
  
“Of course you don’t, bless you.” James laughed.  “That’s my point.  You can’t be bothered looking all nice and pressed even on your wedding night, yes? Forever the slob, Cumberbatch.”  
  
“At least I didn’t count on the hotel to provide me with my wedding night attire,” Benedict scoffed.  “Now, don’t you think it’s time we....got things... over with.”  
  
“How about we set the mood for her? Instead of bursting into the room and jumping on her bones right off,” suggested James, as he sat up. “A little romance goes a long way, Ben.”  
  
“Bugger off, Jimmy. I had no intention of doing that.”  
  
James pointedly stared at Benedict’s crotch and smirked. “ _You_ may not have, but your body betrays you, Man.  I believe that’s your sausage peeking out of it’s casing.”    
  
Benedict gazed down at his partial erection and decided to ignore his friend’s barbed comment.  
  
“I’ve got some romantic music on my iPod we can play in the background,” offered James. “Take a look and see what strikes your fancy.”  
  
Benedict picked it up off the table and scrolled through the titles. 

“Bloody hell!  They’re all songs from your albums.”  
  
James smiled widely at him. “Most people find classical piano music very relaxing, romantic...and sexy.”  
  
“I noticed that your manager sent up a cheese and fruit tray.  How about we open that bottle of Highland Park 30 Scotch that Adam and Alice sent to have with it?”  
  
“Brilliant idea!” said James getting off the couch. “We also have the Grooms’ Cake.  Now, all we need is some ice for the whiskey.”  
  
“I didn’t notice an ice machine on this floor,” observed Benedict.  “It must be on the floor below us.”  
  
James took the ice bucket and extended it to Benedict. “Well, off you go then.”  
  
“I’m not going.  I’m going to fix the cheese tray.”  
  
“Like hell you are, Cumberbatch!  All you have to do is remove the plastic wrap and take the cake out of the bloody box.  I’m not properly dressed – I can’t leave the room like this.”  
  
Benedict crossed the room to the desk and surveyed the change he had dug out of his pocket.  He selected a pound coin.

“We’ll flip.  Heads or tails?”  
  
“Elizabeth, please,” said James, stroking his beard in amusement.  
  
Benedict flipped the coin and growled in disgust.  He showed James that Queen Elizabeth’s head was face up on the coin.    
  
“Bollocks!”  
  
James picked up the white terry cloth robe and tossed it at Benedict.  
  
“As I said before: off you go then.  Think of it this way, Ben.  It’s your turn to wear the robe; so you’ll be getting your moneys worth, too. Donna and I will be in the bedroom....preparing for your return.”  
  
Benedict paused, door knob in hand.  “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” he said crossly.  
  
James smiled pleasantly.  “I wouldn’t dream of it, Mate; but the wife may have other ideas.”  He winked at Benedict.  
  
Benedict rushed to the lift, which was taking it’s sweet time coming to his floor.  He stood tapping his foot impatiently, wishing he had thought to wear his slippers. Disgusted with waiting for the lift, he raced down the hallway and took the emergency stairs two at a time down to the next level, stubbing his toe twice.  Unfortunately, the ice machine was located as far away from the stairs as possible. To make things worse, Benedict had found a man filling a large cooler with ice when he got there.  He paced back and forth impatiently for ten minutes until the man finished.  Finally, Benedict filled the ice bucket and quickly retraced his steps, having decided against the slow lift.    
  
Benedict put his hand in the robe pocket and felt around for the room key.  
  
 _Bloody hell! The motherfucking key’s in the room.  For fuck’s sake!_  
  
Benedict knocked on the door to the suite to no avail.  Neither James nor Donna came to let him in.  He padded down the hallway to an alcove where he found a house phone.  He dialed the room number, only to find it engaged.  
  
 _The wanker must have taken it off the hook!  I’ll just ring Donna’s mobile...no.  I can’t because my damn mobile’s also in the room.  I guess I’ll have to get the concierge to let me back in._  
  
Fifteen minutes and two slow lift rides later, Benedict was finally back in his room.  He noticed that it was very quiet and the door to the bedroom was closed.  He removed the robe and crossed the room with the ice bucket.  
  
 _I wonder what they’re doing?  The cheese platter and cake are gone, as are the extra glasses and the whiskey.  I guess they were feeling peckish and didn’t want to wait for me.  I hope it always isn’t going to be like this..._  
  
Benedict eased open the door to the bedroom to find James and Donna already in bed, clothes strewn about the floor, wrapped in a tight embrace and kissing passionately.  James had removed his glasses and hadn’t noticed Benedict had entered the room.    
  
Benedict cleared his throat loudly and slammed the door behind him.  Donna and James immediately jumped and sat up in bed, both seemingly out of breath.  Donna pulled the sheet up over her heaving breasts.  They were both sweaty.  
  
“Hmmm...looks like you two started without me. I guess it was something that couldn’t wait, yes?”  
  
James and Donna exchanged knowing looks.  Donna’s face had turned a bright shade of red.  James leaned back against the headboard and smiled serenely at Benedict.  
  
“Some itches need to be scratched immediately,” mused James with a shit-eating grin.  
  
“Actually, Ben, we’ve just finished,” said Donna quietly. “You were _spectacular_ , Jimmy!” she gushed. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to walk tomorrow.”  
  
James smiled at Benedict, as he slowly cleaned his glasses with a tissue and put them back on.

“As you just heard, I was more than able to satisfy our wife.  I suppose it’s your turn to show us what you can do.”  
  
Donna studied Benedict closely and shrugged.  Then she poked James in the ribs and giggled.

“Oh, I don’t know about that, Sweetheart.  Ben’s going to have a tough act to follow!”  
  
Benedict stalked across the room angrily, and dragged a naked James out of the bed and into the lounge. He tossed the white robe over his friend’s head.  
  
“Sorry, Jimmy, but when I do love scenes, I always insist on a closed set.  See you in the morning,” he laughed uproariously as he slammed the door behind him and locked it.  
  
Benedict peeled off the white pajamas as he slowly made his way to the bed. Donna smiled up at him and patted the empty space beside her.    
  
“Come, husband.  Claim me as your wife,” she said in a seductive voice as she pulled Benedict down on top of her, wrapping her arms and legs around him.  
  
Benedict eagerly pressed his throbbing erection against the entrance to her vagina.  
  
“Exactly what I plan to do,” he said in a hoarse voice.  
  
“My God!  Your huge!  So much bigger than Jimmy!”  
  
Benedict smiled.  “You’ll soon find out that bigger really is better,” he said as he parted her legs gently and inhaled her scent.  “Did he use protection?”  
  
“Of course.”  
  
Benedict sneered. “Good. I’m going bareback.  I want to make the first baby with you.”  
  
“Oh, Ben.  I love you so!  I want nothing more than to give you a baby on our wedding night!”  
  
Benedict entered her and moaned as the wet softness of her vagina surrounded him.  “I love you, Donna.  I’ll make you forget him.  I promise I will be good to you,”  he moaned as the pleasurable feelings began to engulf him.  
  
“Ben!  Donna!  Open this door!  We agreed it would be the three of us!” yelled James as he pounded on the door.  
  
*************************************************************  
  
  
Benedict Cumberbatch turned over onto his back and took a deep breath. He was aware of a partial erection that was begging for his attention.  
  
 _Thank you, God!  It was only a fucking dream.  Good thing that can’t happen in real life_ , he thought with relief.  _I don’t really want to jerk off here though._  
  
Benedict momentarily shielded his eyes with his arm from the bright sunlight that flooded the lounge of Donna’s flat.  After trying to sleep on the armchair in her bedroom to no avail, Benedict had given up and gone to sleep on the white leather chaise lounge.  He was suddenly aware of someone knocking on the door to the flat, followed by the doorbell.  Benedict leaned over and picked his watch up off the floor. It was six o’clock.  
  
 _Who in the bloody hell is up this early!  I can’t even see straight._  
  
“I’m coming!” yelled Benedict as he stood up, stark naked and started to walk towards the door.  
  
 _Oh, Benedict!  You can’t answer the door like this.  Where in the hell did the sheet go?_  
  
Benedict went back to the chaise lounge and retrieved the warm, flannel sheet.  He wrapped it around him the best he could and thankfully noticed that his erection had subsided, and he was flaccid again thanks to the chilly air con.  He went to the door as the knocking started up again and seemed to intensify.  
  
 _I didn’t hear the lobby buzzer, so it’s someone who lives in the building. Maybe it’s Andrew, checking to see if I need anything._  
  
Benedict peered through the peephole in the door.  A very pretty young woman with curly blonde hair cascading down her shoulders and back was staring back at him with stormy dark blue eyes. She did not appear to be happy.  
  
 _I’ve seen her before....but I can’t place where._  
  
Benedict unbolted and opened the door.  He smiled at  her shyly.  
  
“Can I....erm...help you, Miss?”  
  
“Where is Donna?” the woman asked bluntly. “She was supposed to meet me in the lobby at six.  She’s never late.  Who in the hell are _you_?”  
  
“A friend.”  
  
“I want to see Donna!” demanded the blonde-haired woman. “Where is she?”  
  
“I’m not just going to let anyone in here...”  
  
“Please step aside so I can come in,” she said in an alarmed tone of voice. ‘Please.”  
  
Benedict stood his ground. “May I ask just who in the hell are _you_?”  
  
“Her sister.  Now, please get out of my way,” replied the woman, pushing past Benedict and into the flat.  
  
Benedict stumbled, but managed to stay erect and keep the sheet wound around him. He was surprised at her strength, as he closed the door.  
  
 _Shit!  It’s her sister! That’s why she looked familiar. I can’t remember her name.  I wish I wasn’t such rubbish with names!   Donna showed me her photo. She’s married to the doctor I met that first time Donna invited me back here. Carol!  Her name is Carol.  No.  That's not it. Claire. Nope. Chrissy. Yes! I think that’s it._  
  
Donna’s sister quickly moved into the foyer and started towards the bedroom.  
  
“Donna?  Are you alright?” she called out in a worried tone.  
  
However, Benedict was easily able to intercept her, blocking her way.  
  
“Shhhh!!!  Wait!  Please don’t go in there, Miss. I assure you Donna’s fine. She’s just sleeping.  I don’t want her rest disturbed.”  
  
The blonde stared at Benedict, hands on hips.  “Well, that’s too bad. She needs to get up.  We’ve a business to open in time for breakfast, and there are lunch orders she promised to help fill.”  
  
Benedict chuckled.  “There’s no way in hell that she’s going to be in _any_ shape to get up and help you at Carldonn after what happened last night.”  
  
 _Carldonn. The business is named after both of them. That’s it! Her sister’s name is Carla...Carly. I really am getting into a Sherlock mindset. Well done, me!_  
  
Carly huffed and rolled her eyes.  
  
“For God’s sake!  Please spare me the details of your sexual escapades!” she said sarcastically. “I don’t really care what you have to say or think.  I just want to make sure that Donna is alright.”  
  
“Oh, it’s not what you think!” exclaimed Benedict.  “We aren’t lovers.  I slept out here.” He indicated the chaise lounge near the wall of windows.  
  
Carly could see that there was a bed pillow and throw from the couch still on the lounge chair.  She stared at Benedict and then looked him up and down with a frown.  
  
“You’re wearing a sheet.”  
  
 _So observant. She reminds me of Donna, bless her._  
  
Benedict pulled the sheet tighter around himself and smiled again in an attempt to diffuse the tense situation.  
  
“My clothes are in the wash, so please pardon my appearance.”  
  
Carly stood with arms crossed in front of her chest.  She regarded Benedict as if trying to make up her mind about him.  
  
“You don’t own a washer?”  
  
“Of _course_ I do.  Its just that after Donna got pissed at the pub last night, she got sick and puked all over me, so I had to wash my clothes here.  I could hardly leave her alone in the state she was in.  Besides, I also couldn’t very well ride the tube smelling of puke now, could I?”  
  
“My sister has never been drunk in her life!  She’s just a social drinker.”  
  
Benedict guffawed.  “Then I assure you that your sister was _extremely_ sociable last night.”  
  
“Jesus. I just want to see her!” Carly quickly tried to sidestep Benedict so she could gain access to the hallway.  “I swear I’ll hurt you if you don’t move.  I have a brown belt in karate and will be more than happy to give you a demonstration if I have to!”  
  
“I want you to promise me that you won’t wake her,” said Benedict defiantly as he swiftly blocked her way. “She needs her rest!”  
  
“What’s wrong with you?  Did you not hear me? I have a brown belt in karate that I’m not afraid to use, not to mention that Donna is my sister; and I have every right to look in on her!”  
  
“Well, I’m in love with her; so I also have a vested interest,” blurted out Benedict.  “I repeat: she needs her rest.  I don’t care who you are – sister or not - you will not disturb her,” he said in a menacing tone of voice that made Carly visibly shiver.  
  
Carly opened her mouth and shut it.  She appeared to be digesting what Benedict had just revealed to her.  
  
 _OH, Benedict, what did you just say?  You just confessed your love for Donna to her sister before you’ve had a chance to even tell Donna.  Well done me.  I really cocked that up._  
  
Carly took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“How about if I just look in on her?  I give you my word that I will not wake her. I’ll just feel better if I can see her for myself.”  
  
 _That’s because you don’t trust me. Maybe she thinks I’m some kind of axe murderer or rapist? After all, I am a total stranger as far as she’s concerned walking around in a sheet in her sister’s flat._  
  
Benedict stepped aside.

“Go ahead.”  
  
Carly approached the door to Donna’s bedroom and carefully opened it.  She went to stand by the bed and looked down at her peacefully sleeping twin.  Benedict came to stand beside Carly, watching over Donna.  Carly noted the loving look on Benedict’s face, as he smoothed Donna’s hair back off her forehead. Then he leaned over to adjust the covers around her shoulders and kissed her gently on the cheek.  Carly touched his arm to indicate they should leave the room.  Benedict closed the door behind them, and they returned to the kitchen area.  
  
“Thank you,” said Carly, tucking her curls back behind her ears.  “I have to say she looks like absolute hell,” she snickered.  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so disheveled...not even as kids!”  
  
Benedict nodded.  “It was a rough night...for both of us.”  
  
“Care to fill me in?”  
  
“Why don’t you have a seat at the breakfast bar. I’ll make us a coffee and tell you all about it; but first, we need to introduce ourselves properly.  I’m Benedict Cumberbatch,”  he extended his hand to Carly, who finally broke out into a huge smile as she shook it.    
  
“Carla Cipriano.  Everyone calls me Carly.  Let me call my chef and tell her I’ll be late,” she said picking up the landline and punching in a number.  
  
Benedict filled the coffee maker with cold water while Carly made her call to someone named Maria.  Then he went in the refrigerator where he recalled seeing a container of Kona coffee.    
  
 _Jolly good!  Not decaf.  Not the best way to meet the family, but I’ll do my best to win her over.  Hopefully, her parents will be easier._  
  
  
  
  
An hour later, Carly and Benedict were laughing like old friends over the story of what had happened in the pub and afterwards.  To his relief, Benedict had found Carly to be exactly as Donna had described her.  She was actually very friendly and easy to talk to.  
  
“Fancy another coffee, Carly?”  
  
Carly covered the opening of the mug and shook her head.

“No.  I’m fine.  I appreciate you’re sharing this with me, Benedict.  I’ll be able to hold this over her head for years to come,” she laughed.  
  
“Donna never said you were so evil,” teased Benedict.  “Though I’ll probably do the same.”  
  
“Now, who’s being evil?”    
  
Their eyes met, and they both laughed.  Suddenly, Carly stared at Benedict as if seeing him for the first time.  Then she lowered her eyes and smiled as if she was harboring a secret.  
  
“Something wrong?” Benedict asked with a raised eyebrow.  He quickly rubbed his eyes, checking if there were sleep in them.  Thankfully, there wasn’t any.  Then he looked down at the sheet, making sure his bits were still covered.  
  
“I just realized who you are!  You’re the guy with the owl socks from Barbecoa!”  
  
 _That’s right.  Donna emailed her the picture of my socks that night._  
  
Benedict smiled thinly.  “Yeah, that would be me.”  
  
Carly glanced down at his bare feet.  
  
“Sorry to disappoint you, but I was wearing normal socks last night.  The owl socks were just a Christmas gift joke from my mum.”  
  
“Of course they are. I have to tell you my favorite pair so far are the ones with the umbrellas!” Carly giggled.  
  
Benedict looked startled.  _She’s just like Donna in some ways. My darling must have taken a photo when we were at the Grand Imperial, bless her._  
  
Carly took a sip of coffee. “I had no idea that your relationship was so serious. I’ve been under the incorrect impression that my sister’s been playing the field all this time.”    
  
Benedict pursed his lips. “If I tell you something in confidence, do you promise not to tell Donna that I told you?”  
  
“Of course.  You’ll find that I’m the opposite of my sister in that regard.  Your secrets will die with me, Benedict.  Cross my heart!” she said, crossing her heart.  
  
 _How much shall I tell her? I really hope she can keep a secret because I know that Donna can’t...but then neither can I._  
  
“I haven’t told Donna how I feel yet.  I was going to broach the subject last night, but things didn’t work out, no thanks to the cider.  I’ve been in a couple of serious relationships that didn’t work out, and I want to be sure this time before I make any commitment....particularly a permanent one.”  
  
“You told me you’re in love with her.  That sounds like you already made the commitment on your end. Unless you’re bullshitting me....” Carly regarded him with a raised eyebrow.  
  
Benedict reached down to rub his thigh.  “I’m not, Carly.  I do love your sister, and I’m pretty certain she feels the same way. Erm...has she said anything to you about me?”    
  
Carly watched as he then rubbed the back of his neck.    
  
 _He’s certainly a nervous one.  I think I like him.  Mom and Dad will eat him for breakfast though. That’s one meeting I don’t want to be at._  
  
“Actually, she’s said very little about you. That’s why I was so taken aback when you answered the door. Especially since you are only wearing a sheet,” she added.  “That’s pretty strong circumstantial evidence.”  
  
 _Shit!  That was mom talking! Donna would get a kick out of that._  
  
The expression on Benedict’s face was one of hurt.  
  
“Why? Would you have been equally surprised if James Rhodes answered the door in a sheet?”  
  
It was Carly’s turn to look surprised.   “You know about James?”  
  
“We’re close friends.  We went to Harrow together....”  
  
“Does Donna know this?  Shit!  Well, she would have to, I suppose!”  
  
“We all know about each other. We found out Tuesday night when Jimmy had his concert.”  
  
 _What a tangled web my sister weaves....I wonder what else she’s hiding from me? There must be something wrong with him...._  
  
“How long have you and Donna been dating?”  
  
“Since the night we met at Barbecoa. We consider that our first date.”  
  
 _Now, I know my sister hasn’t been seeing Jimmy that long at all.  It’s interesting that Donna's been much more open about him.  I also wonder how Wanda’s son fits into the picture – there was something crazy going on with that, too._  
  
Carly’s head was spinning. She massaged her temples as she tried to process all the information that Benedict had given her.  Then a question came to her.  
  
“By the way, Benedict, what do you do for a living?”  
  
“I’m an actor.”  
  
 _Bingo! I knew there had to be a reason. Holy shit. No wonder Miss Sherlock Holmes is being so secretive!  Wait until Dad hears about this...she’s dating another actor.  He threw the last one out of the house, and Mom made him cry.  I wonder if Dad is familiar with Benedict’s work? I certainly can’t ask him  - that will open up a whole can of worms, and they’ll get on the next plane to London to check him out. Then Donna will disown me and rightfully so.  I have to research him tonight.  Benedict Cumberbatch.  What an awful stage name._  
  
“I see. So, what’s your _real_ name?”  
  
 _That was a pretty unenthusiastic reaction. Do I detect a bit of disapproval as to my choice of profession?_   thought Benedict, as he finished his coffee.  There was definitely a look in her eyes, but I don’t know what it meant.  
  
“Benedict Cumberbatch _is_ my real name. I was nee Cumberbatch,” he responded with a trace of annoyance in his voice.  
  
Carly tried her best not to snicker.  
  
 _I like his first name; but what an awful last name!  Donna Cumberbatch. I can’t wait to see Mom and Dad’s faces should this relationship come to pass._  
  
“Well, I’ve got to get to my store.  We’re catering a business lunch for a law office.  I guess I’ll be seeing you around, Benedict.”  
  
“I hope so.  It was nice to finally meet you.  Maybe we can go out to dinner with you and your husband one night soon.  He seems like a nice chap, and I’d love to hear more about his fellowship.”  
  
 _He’s met Steve?  Steve didn’t say anything about meeting Benedict to me._  
  
“How do you know my husband?”  
  
 _Fuck me!  I bet I wasn’t supposed to say that.  Well, now she knows._  
  
“We met a few weeks ago when he came up to grill some burgers.”  
  
 _Oh, Steven.  You have a lot of explaining to do when you get home._  
  
Benedict walked Carly to the door and they shook hands again.

“I’m glad we got everything sorted out, Carly.”  
  
“Me, too, Benedict.”     
  
“I really do care for Donna very deeply and hope we can make a life together.  I assure you that my intentions are sincere.”  
  
“I can see that.  You’re a nice man, Benedict.  My sister would do well to stick with you.”  
  
 _I can also see Mom and Dad giving you the third degree.  You won’t last an hour with them.  You’re too damned nice._  
  
“It’s all up to her.  Jimmy and I have decided to give Donna some space and let her make up her own mind.”  
  
“As they say:  May the best man win,” smiled Carly Cipriano as she left the apartment.  
  
 _Yes, and I fully intend to,_ thought Benedict Cumberbatch with a smile as he shut the door behind her.  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I have no idea if James Rhodes can dance or not, but I thought it would be fun if he could become a disco king in Benedict’s dream.
> 
> 2\. I have no idea what James Rhodes’ mother’s name is. I thought I read somewhere that it was Georgina, but I can’t verify it. 
> 
> 3\. My favorite line of Tim's that I always use (where Benedict says "thinking is a dangerous past time") stems from my favorite lines between Gaston and his sidekick, Lefou, in the song, Gaston from the Disney Classic Movie "Beauty and the Beast": 
> 
> Gaston: LeFou, I'm afraid I've been thinking  
> Lefou: A dangerous pastime  
> Gaston: I know.
> 
> 4\. I used all the song titles from the old disco movie classic, Saturday Night Fever, as I felt the titles help to convey how Benedict's growing jealousy is being fueled during the reception.


	49. Chapter 49

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Benedict's jealousy causes him to take matters into his own hands. Donna deals with her first hangover. James vows revenge.

 

The alarm on Benedict Cumberbatches watch went off, waking him from a sound sleep.  After Carly had left, he had decided to have a lie down on the chaise lounge and fell back into a deep sleep.  It was just about nine o’clock. Benedict groaned and covered his eyes with his arm.  
  
 _OH, fuck!  It’s still so damned early.  I just want to sleep, but I can’t. I promised Donna that I would wake her so she wouldn’t miss her lunch date with Jimmy at Borough Market. That’s real bollocks!  I have to wake her so she can go on a date with another man._  
  
Benedict threw off the blanket and realized that he was still wrapped up in the flannel bed sheet.  He got to his feet and padded barefoot across the floor and down the hallway to Donna’s bedroom.  He pushed open the door and peered inside.  Donna was sound asleep on her side, curled up into a ball.  Benedict sat on the edge of the bed and gently tapped her shoulder.  
  
“Donna, it’s nine.  Time to get up,” he said, shaking her gently.    
  
Donna did not budge.  Benedict frowned and rubbed the overnight stubble on his upper lip with his index finger.  
  
 _It really is such a shame to wake her after last night, but I did promise._  
  
“You’ll be late if you don’t get up,” he said, prodding her hip with his index finger.  
  
Donna just burrowed down further under the covers and sighed contentedly.  
  
 _Hmmmm...this isn’t working.  I could roll her out of the bed, but that would most likely piss her off at me.  I really wish I could let her sleep._  
  
“Donna, Jimmy will be waiting for you at the market.”  This time he lowered his voice as he ever-so-lightly shook her shoulder.  “Time to get up.”  
  
“Go away!” Donna grumbled as she turned over, pulling the covers tightly around her.  “I want to sleep!”  
  
 _She heard me!  Must remember that she has excellent hearing._  
  
Benedict tapped his chin with his index finger as he thought about his dream of the night before.  
  
 _If Donna were to miss the date, she could spend part of the day with me then.  I just have to be at RADA this afternoon for the Cabin Pressure rehearsal.  Jimmy would only stay home and practice, so it wouldn’t be as if his day were wasted. Shit! I’m scheming just like Mum. Dad would be appalled.  Hell, I think I may be just a bit appalled at myself._  
  
“Are you sure?” he asked very softly as he leaned over her to kiss her earlobe.  “You’ll miss your lunch.”  
  
No response.  
  
Benedict smiled and walked around the bed and sat on the other side, facing Donna.    
  
 _Actually, I don’t think I’m appalled in the slightest. If she doesn’t get up, what am I to do?  I certainly can’t force her.  Oh, fuck it.  I’ll give it one last try, so my conscience will be clear._  
  
“Donna, would you rather spend the day with me or have lunch with Jimmy?”  Benedict’s voice was so soft he could barely hear himself.  
  
“I don’t give a shit!  Now, just go away!” she hissed and kicked out her foot, missing Benedict’s testicles by mere inches. “I’m sooooo tired, and I don’t care about lunch!”  
  
 _Well then.  Who am I not to respect her wishes? Go away and go away I shall._  
  
Benedict smiled widely and chuckled quietly as he left Donna’s bedroom, making sure to close the door behind him.  He rubbed his hands together in anticipation of the pleasant day ahead of him.  
  
 _Now, I think I need to take a wee and make myself presentable._  
  
Benedict went to the bathroom, where he relieved himself and took a long, hot shower.  He went through the vanity under the sink and came upon a bag of disposable razors.  There was shaving cream in the large medicine cabinet that hung over the vanity along with all kinds of makeup and beauty supplies.  Benedict shaved and blew his hair dry, not bothering with his usual finger-combing of his unruly curls.  Another look in the vanity revealed a package containing new travel-size toothbrushes.  He helped himself to one, so he could brush and floss his teeth.  It took him a bit longer to locate her antiperspirant, which he was relieved to find was unscented. A quick check of the dryer provided him with dry clothes, so he was able to get dressed. His stomach growled loudly as he made his way to the kitchen. It was now ten o’clock.  
  
 _Time to make some breakfast, but perhaps I should call Jimmy and tell him Donna’s under the weather?  It would be cruel for him to go all the way from Marylebone to Borough Market only to find out she’s not coming – especially since I know her situation. I’d certainly want to know.  Let me think on this a bit._  
  
  
  
  
  
Donna Saint James teetered on unsteady legs across the hallway into the black and white tiled bathroom.  She had noticed that the washer and dryer were both going and adding to her headache.    
  
 _Why in the hell are these fucking appliances so loud? Benedict must still be here and is doing laundry...that is just so nice of him.  I'll be sure to thank him after I die._  
  
She went into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.  
  
 _Arrggh!_   Donna grimaced, as she rubbed her temples.  _That did little to help my aching head.  Owwwww!  Her full bladder was reminding her that it was well past the time for her to empty it.  I really need to pee._  
  
Donna looked at the toilet. The seat wasn’t in its usual down position.    
  
 _I guess Benedict used the toilet. I should probably wipe off the seat before I use it. Mom would say I have no idea if he has anything, so better to be safe than sorry. If only my head would stop pounding._  
  
She began to lean over to open the vanity doors to get her disinfecting wipes and suddenly felt nauseous.  
  
 _Oh, I need to stop being so neurotic about germs. His personal hygiene seems impeccable. I don’t think I care at this point,_ she thought as she plopped down on the seat to urinate. _I was all primed to suck his dick last night, so does it really matter? Wait!  Did I give him oral last night?  Oh, Jeez....I need to find out as soon as I can think of a subtle way of asking._  
  
  
  
  
  
It was now ten fifteen, and Benedict Cumberbatch stood at the hob in Donna’s kitchen melting two pats of butter in a medium non-stick fry pan.  He was famished and had decided to make himself a large bacon omelet and rye toast.  As Benedict was about to pour the beaten eggs into the foaming butter in the pan, he thought he heard the bathroom door slam shut.  He removed the pan from the heat and walked down the hallway.  He could see from the doorway that Donna’s bed was empty.    
  
 _Ah!  She’s up!  I wonder how she feels.  I’d better check on her._  
  
Benedict raised his fist to knock on the bathroom door, when he heard the toilet flush.  Then came the sound of running water in the sink.  
  
“Donna?” Benedict rapped lightly on the door.  “Are you okay?”  
  
All he could hear was mumbling and something that sounded like ‘motherfucker’.  
  
“I’ll take that as a _no_ ,” he chuckled.  
  
He heard her turn on the shower and more unintelligible mumbling.    
  
“I’ll be making breakfast if you need me then,” he said turning to go back to the kitchen.    
  
“Benedict?” came her voice from behind the door.  “Are you still here?”  
  
Benedict stopped and returned to the door. “Yeah. Are you feeling sick?”  
  
“I was wondering if you could please hand me some towels – two bath would be good and a wash cloth.  The towel rack is empty, and I’m not dressed.”  
  
 _Bloody hell!  Not only did I forget to put the seat down, but I forgot to replace the towels I used.  Shame on me,_ thought Benedict, as he opened the door to the linen closet and carefully removed the requested towels from the neatly stacked piles. _It never fails to amaze me how someone can waste so much time stacking these bloody things by size and color._ _It reminds me of a display in Harrods._

“Okay. Here they are,” he turned the knob, but the door was locked.  “Donna?”  
  
“What?”  
  
“I’ve got your towels, but the door is locked.”  
  
“I know it is. I locked it for privacy.”  
  
 _Oh, for fucks sake!  I’m not going to look._  
  
“You shouldn’t lock it when you feel sick.”    
  
“I always lock it.”  
  
 _Why does that not surprise me?_ he thought.  
  
“I never lock it.  
  
 _Why does that not surprise me?_ she thought.    
  
“Just leave them on the floor.”  
  
“Nope.”  
  
“Excuse me?”  
  
“Please unlock the door.  What if you lost your balance and fell?”  
  
He heard what sounded like a loud thud, followed by swearing.  
  
“Donna!?!”  
  
“Like I just did?  I see your point.”  
  
“Can you get up?  I can break down the door....”  
  
“No!  Give me a minute to pull myself up off the floor.......Okay......I’m up.  Nothings broken.”  
  
“I know. You have plenty of natural padding,” laughed Benedict.    
  
“Excuse me?  What did you just say, Benedict?” snapped Donna.  
  
 _Shit! I get it now. It’s only funny when she says it.  Turn on your mouth filter, Benedict._  
  
“Just that I like your mattress cover. The quilted padding is nice and comfy.  I’m going to go out and buy one...”  
  
 _He means my butt.  He’s repeating my joke from last night.  I’ll let it go._  
  
Benedict heard her unlock the door.  As he went to turn the knob, the door swung open a bit, and Donna stuck her hand out for the towels from the dark bathroom.  
  
“Oh, for fuck’s sake! Turn the light back on before you wind up on your arse again.  I respect your need for privacy in the loo,” he huffed.  “Please give me more credit than that.”  
  
Donna squinted at him through the crack in the door, as she flicked the light switch.  She held one of the bath sheets in front of her.  “I’m sorry.  I didn’t intend to hurt your feelings, Benedict. I feel so sick.  I don’t mean to be bitchy.  I just want to shower, brush my teeth and go back to bed,” she moaned.    
  
 _There’s no way in hell that she’s going to meet Jimmy. What a pity, Benedict. It’s up to you to take care of her._  
  
“So, you’re not going out then?”  he asked innocently.  
  
“Hell no!  I just want my bed and some hot tea...perhaps a slice of dry toast....maybe with a little butter...is that bacon I smell?”  
  
“Yep.  I’m making a bacon omelet.”  
  
“Maybe some bacon to go with the toast.”  
  
 _She’s actually hungry?  Food is the last thing I want when I’m hungover._  
  
“I’ll have that ready as soon as you’re done in here. Then once you’re settled in, I’ll head home; so I can get my script for the _Cabin Pressure_ rehearsal.”  
  
“Oh please don’t leave!  If they emailed you the script, you can print it out here. I’d love for you to stay and keep me company.”  
  
 _Brilliant!  She really does want me to stay.  I didn’t hear her ask me to call Rhodes to come over and take care of her.  Ha!_  
  
Benedict smiled.  “Yeah, I can do that. It would be my pleasure to keep you company.”    
  
 _But first, I’d  better ring Jimmy and break the date._  
  
  
  
  
  
James Rhodes' day could not have gotten off to a better start.  The pianist had been thrilled he had managed to get five hours of sleep and woke feeling fairly refreshed at six.  After showering and getting dressed, James brewed a pot of strong coffee and lit his first cigarette of the day.  He sat on his balcony in the brilliant sunshine reading the paper while drinking his coffee and smoking until the timer went off to remind him that it was time for piano practice.  
  
Before James knew it, three hours had passed by in a flash.  He checked his watch and saw that it was time to head out to meet Donna at Borough Market.  A note on his refrigerator reminded him to stop at his manager’s office and the bank along the way.  He stuffed his wallet, keys, cigarettes and lighter in his pockets. As James headed for the front door, his mobile began to ring.  He pulled it from his pocket and saw that it was Benedict.  
  
“Hey, Man! How’s it going?”  
  
 _“Morning!”_  
  
“Listen. I’m going to have to ring you back, Ben. I was just on my way out.  I’ve got a lunch date with Donna at Borough Market, and I need to make a couple of stops first,” said James in a rush.  
  
 _“Well...erm...that’s why I’m ringing you,”_ began Benedict hesitantly. _“I know this is going to seem a tad odd...”_ his baritone voice trailed off. _“...but I’m sort of calling you on her behalf.”_  
  
 _Blimey!  I’ll say this sounds odd,_ thought James, scratching his beard.  _I wonder what game he’s playing._   _No, don’t jump to conclusions, Jimmy – hear what he has to say first._  
  
“Why?  Do you suddenly fancy coming along with us, and Donna said you had to ask for my permission?” asked James playfully.  
  
There was no response of any kind from Benedict.  
  
The pianist suddenly found himself on the alert and suspicious of his friend’s motives.  
  
 _If he really does fancy coming along, I’m going to tell him to go bugger off. I’ll try teasing him again._  
  
“Or did you suddenly get a hankering for one of those huge meringues that are the size of my head?”  
  
 _And if you did, I’ll bring you back one, but no fucking way in hell are you tagging along, Cumberbatch._  
  
Again, there was no response of any kind from Benedict.  
  
 _Okay...this is something that’s no doubt going to aggravate me.  I can sense it by the way he’s not joking around with me._  
  
He heard what sounded like Benedict taking a deep breath.  
  
 _“I’m calling to let you know that Donna won’t be able to meet you today.”_  
  
 _What the fuck?  Did I hear him right? **He’s** ringing me to break **my** date with Donna?_  
  
James cleared his throat.  “I wasn’t aware that Donna had hired you to act as her social secretary.  When did this happen?”  
  
 _“Don’t be flip, Jimmy.  I’m calling because Donna’s under the weather. I didn’t want you to go out to Borough Market and think you were being stood up when she didn’t show.”_  
  
 _Now, this is more than a tad odd.  All of a sudden Cumberbatch is her self-appointed conduit?  I would have expected Donna to ring or text me herself if she weren’t well._  
  
“I appreciate your concern for my feelings, Ben.  Now, how about explaining to me how you happen to be privy to this information?”  
  
 _“I’m at her flat.  I stayed the night.”_  
  
James sucked in his breath sharply and let it out through his clenched teeth.  
  
 _Wait a minute. He took her out last night to her local.  I guess things went really well if he broke his vow. I think I may be sick after I ring off.  Bastard wasted no time in bedding her._

“What in the fuck are you trying to tell me, Ben? Did you ring me to brag that you’re no longer celibate? Just spit it out and stop waffling around!” James snarled impatiently. “We’re adults.  I can handle it.”  
  
 _“I’m not waffling, and it’s not what you think, Jimmy.  Apparently, Miss Saint James can’t hold her liquor, but thinks she can.  We went to the Golden Fleece, and she got pissed on cider and beer....not a pretty thing to behold. You can trust me on that. Anyway, I finally got her back here - which was no easy task -  where she proceeded to get sick and puke our nice dinner up all over me and her bed.  I spent the remainder of the night cleaning, washing and putting her to bed before I wound up sleeping in her lounge. So much for the romantic time you were obviously envisioning.”_  
  
James chuckled to himself.  _Sounds extremely unromantic to me.  Poor sod. Good. This call is giving me great pleasure all of a sudden._  
  
“How is she this morning?  Pretty bad, I’d imagine.”  
  
 _“Trying to cope with a vicious hangover, and not succeeding.  She said the only place she’s going today is back to bed.  I thought I was doing you a favor by letting you know.”_  
  
 _His explanation seems perfectly plausible, yet somehow it pisses me off on some subconscious level that he was the messenger.  I guess he’s telling me the truth._  
  
“Can I at least say hello to her?”  
  
Benedict hesitated.  _“Erm....she’s sleeping like a stone, Jimmy.  I’ll tell her that you rang.”_  
  
 _What kind of motherfucking rubbish is this? I didn’t ring you, you tosser.  You rang me up. Something’s not quite right here. He sounds nervous.  I bet he’s rubbing the back of his neck....no, the thigh.  This is more like a thigh rubbing conversation._  
  
James heard what sounded like Donna’s voice in the background.  
  
 _“Who are you talking to, Benedict?”_  
  
 _Bollocks! She’s not sleeping.  She’s up. He can’t stay there all day because he’s got a Cabin Pressure rehearsal in the afternoon.  Perhaps I can still salvage part of the day after all._  
  
“Ben, sounds like Donna is up now.  Please put her on so I can say hello and reschedule our date.  Maybe she’ll be up to going out later on.....”  
  
 _“Hello? Hello?  Can you hear me?”_ Then came the sound of what sounded like Benedict tapping the phone with his finger nail.  
  
“Yes, you prat.  I can hear you loud and clear.”  
  
 _“I can’t make out anything you’re saying. All I hear is static. Helloooo?”_  
  
“Stop shitting me, Cumberbatch. There’s nothing wrong with the connection!”  
  
 _“Hellooooo? I’m having trouble hearing you. Are you there?  If you can hear me, we’ll talk soon. Cheers!”_ said Benedict, ringing off quickly.  
  
James Rhodes stood dumbfounded, looking at his mobile.   
  
 _I can’t believe the knob cut me off like that.  He didn’t want me talking to Donna and rescheduling our date._  
  
  
  
  
  


Benedict pocketed his mobile and returned to making breakfast.  He hummed happily to himself as he put the bread in the toaster and brewed a pot of Earl Grey tea for Donna. Then he opened the refrigerator to gather ingredients for the filling. 

_Oh, Benedict, that was so wrong of you to do that to Jimmy....shame on you. Why did you do that?  You have a gentleman’s agreement to let nature take its course.....You‘re even the one who encouraged him to date her. Then why did you call off the date without asking Donna’s permission first? Because she’d probably kick my sodding fat arse for even suggesting such a cheeky thing._

Benedict stood in front of the open refrigerator, staring into space.

_If Mum were here, she’d be telling me to stop air cooling half of London and shut the damn door._

As soon as the toast popped up, Benedict removed the four slices of rye bread, lightly buttered them and cut the toast into triangles. He could still hear his voice berating him in his mind, as he set the breakfast bar with two place settings.

_Oh, Benedict you know very well why you did that...you were jealous because of that fucking horror of a dream you had.  You still don’t want him dating her regardless of the stupid pact you made.  Why? Because you are hopelessly in love with her and need to get a commitment before your ulcer returns with a vengeance._

Benedict opened the refrigerator and once again perused the contents.  He was angry with himself.

_Fuck me.  That’s exactly why I did it and part of me isn’t sorry that I did._

Benedict took out the milk for Donna’s tea.  He grimaced as he looked to see what kind she bought and shook his head.

_For fuck’s sake – skim milk.  A food critic should have full fat milk. At least she has cream, I’ll just use that in her tea.  The bacon is done, so let’s see....maybe I’ll add some cheese in the omelet. I’m feeling in the mood for cheese all of a sudden._

He opened the container where Donna kept her cheeses wrapped up like perfect little Christmas packages.  There were three:  the cheddar he had had the night before, Comte and Pecorino Romano.  

_The Comte should go well with the bacon.....Why in the hell does she wrap like this?  A layer of plastic wrap, a layer of tin foil, then a plastic bag.... I don’t feel like doing all this re-wrapping......I’ll just shove this back here.  She won’t notice right away.....OH, here’s the full fat milk!  Just when I was getting worried about her._

“Benedict?  Who were you talking to?” came Donna’s voice from behind him.  “I could swear I heard you talking to somebody.”

_Shit!  She heard me talking to Jimmy.  Why do I always get caught at these things?  Okay...remain calm, Benedict.  Keep your head in the fridge and pretend you didn’t hear her._

Benedict opened the vegetable crisper and found some chives along with several kinds of mushrooms.  There were white button, shitake and cremini.  He pretended to be very interested in them.

_She must be standing right behind me.  I can smell her perfume and feel her eyes on me._

Donna stood watching Benedict rummage around her refrigerator, hands on hips.  She had somehow managed to shower and get dressed in spite of how she felt.  Now, exhausted from her efforts, Donna wanted to crawl into a hole and go back to sleep.

_What a perfect butt he has.  I guess I’m not that sick if I can still appreciate it....such a distraction!  Could I have imagined him on the phone? This is the second time I’ve asked him that question, and still no answer.  I must be crazy...or he didn’t hear me.  Oh, what the hell. I don’t think I give two shits right now.  I need some Tylenol._

_She seems to have given up.  I think I’ll use some of the button mushrooms._

Benedict turned to find Donna looking in one of the cabinets.  He smiled at her and immediately got a glass of water and shook three aspirin tablets out of a small bottle that was on the counter.

“Good Morning! How do you feel?”

“Like I’m going to die. Where in the hell did I put the Tylenol?” she mumbled, rubbing her forehead. “Arrrggghhhhh!”

“That isn’t what you need for a hangover,” remarked Benedict setting the glass and tablets on the breakfast bar.  “You need aspirin.”

Donna turned to look at him.  She was dressed in a well-fitting navy blue track suit with a light blue camisole under the partially zipped up jacket. She also noticed Benedict not-so-subtlety eyeing her up and down.

_How nice to see a woman in a track suit that fits properly.  Olivia always wore such baggy ones you couldn’t tell what her figure was like underneath._

Donna outwardly cringed as his gazed wandered down to her feet.  His lips started to curve up into a smile, and his ice blue eyes twinkled in merriment.

_OH NO!  Why did I wear these?_

The black and white ballet style slippers on her feet sported cow heads.

“What the fuck?  You’ve even got bloody cow slippers!” he guffawed.  “I shudder to think what other cow paraphernalia you’ve got hidden around here!”

“Shhhh!  Can you please laugh just a little quieter?  I’ve got the most vicious sinus headache imaginable...or maybe it’s a migraine or the flu.” Donna massaged her temples.

“Come and sit.  I’ve made you some proper hot tea,” Benedict crossed the kitchen to pour her a mug, adding cream and demerara sugar. “Do you think you can manage some toast? You should try and eat something.”

“Why do I need aspirin?  I don’t have any,” Donna moaned as she sat at the breakfast bar and rubbed her forehead. “I don’t have the strength to go out and get any either.” She folded her arms on the counter and rested her head on them.  “I’ve never felt so sick...maybe I should call my brother-in-law, Steven...he’s a doctor...he'll know what to do.”

Benedict smirked as he sat beside her.  He planted a kiss on the top of her head and patted her freshly washed and dried hair, which smelled of vanilla and almonds.

“I might be contagious, Ben! You shouldn’t get too close to me.”

_She called me Ben.  I like that she’s getting comfortable with doing that._

“I can guarantee that you’re not contagious, nor do you require a doctor for what ails you.  You have a nasty hangover and aspirin is proven to be better for your liver than acetaminophen.....”

“You speak from experience, I take it?” came her muffled question.  "You sounded just like a commercial."

“Actually, I did a voice over for an Anadin advert last year,” he chuckled.  “Seriously,  I’ve had my share of hangovers.  Best thing is to plan before you even start drinking.  You’ve got to space your drinks and have a glass of water in between so you don’t get dehydrated.  Eating also....”

“Sounds like you have quite a wealth of experience to draw from,” she snorted.

“Don’t be cheeky, Donna. I’m trying to help you feel better.”

She raised her head to look up at him.  “But I don’t have a hangover!" she insisted. "What did I drink that would cause me to feel like this? Did you ever consider that I might have a bad case of food poisoning?  I just had some apple cider and a bit of your beer.  I’ve never been drunk in my life!”

Benedict stared at her and laughed to himself.

_Bloody hell!  Not only did she manage to get dressed and do her hair, but she’s got her makeup and jewelry on.  Amazing.  I’m lucky if I can crawl out of bed when I have a hangover to use the loo._

Benedict pushed the glass of water and three aspirin tablets towards her.

“We ate the same things, and I’m fine.  Please believe me when I tell you that you were off your face.  Take this and let the aspirin work its magic.”  
  
“Are you trying to overdose me?  Two is the maximum dosage,” fretted Donna as she read the bottle that was on the counter.  
  
“I have no such intentions,” Benedict laughed.  “Now, trust me – and yes, I know this from personal experience.  Three will do the trick.”  
  
Donna finally took the aspirin and washed them down with water.  
  
“Where did you get these?” she asked turning the bottle around in her hand.  
  
“Andrew donated them.  I went across the hall to see if he had any.  He felt sorry for you after last night.”  
  
Donna stared at him as she remembered a commotion in the hallway and something about a keycard, and Benedict’s hand stuck in her front pocket.    
  
“What in the hell happened last night? I recall bits and pieces, but my thoughts are all jumbled.”  
  
Benedict got up and went around the bar to make his omelet.  He turned on the gas to heat the butter in the pan again.  He cut two thin slices off the hunk of cheese and crumbled the bacon he had previously fried.  
  
“You drank a pint of hard cider, followed by a pint of my beer last night. You were absolutely pissed, and I had to carry you out of the pub. Don’t you remember?” He asked as he wiped off the mushrooms with a damp cloth, gave them a rough chop and added them to a small bowl.  
  
Donna frowned, as she helped herself to a slice of toast.  “I remember asking for soft cider...”  
  
“Then the barkeep misunderstood you. They don’t serve soft cider in pubs, Donna.  It’s all hard.  That cider you drank had more alcohol than my beer.”  
  
“No wonder I felt like that – all woozy and happy and....what’s the word I’m thinking of?”  
  
 _Horny.  I was definitely horny.  I wanted to go down on him in the worst way, and I wanted him to return the favor. Good gravy._  
  
Benedict added the mushrooms to the butter in the hot pan and sautéed them for a minute.  Then he poured the eggs over them and waited another minute.  Then he ran a spatula around the edge of the pan, allowing the uncooked egg mixture to run underneath the cooked portion.  He grinned at her.  
  
“The word that comes to my mind is _amorous_.....not that I minded....”  
  
“I came on to you?”  
  
He put the cheese on the eggs and sprinkled the bacon over the top.  
  
“Yep...rather strongly, I might add.”  
  
“Did we do anything.....more than....kissing...or what we usually do?” Donna asked timidly.  
  
Benedict shook his head, and his tone was serious when he answered her.    
  
“Nothing happened. I would never take advantage of a woman in that state.  It wouldn’t be respectful.”  
  
“Thank you.  I appreciate that you truly are a gentleman, and that I can trust you implicitly.”  
  
Benedict nodded his thanks at her and went back to the omelet.    
  
“Just one question:  what happened to my bra?”  
  
“You took it off, when I refused to.  You were adamant that you weren't going to sleep in it, but I didn’t feel it was appropriate for me to remove it."  
  
“Oh.”  
  
“I put it in the washer along with your socks.  They should be dry by now.”  
  
“Thank you, Ben.  That was very nice of you.”  
  
She watched Benedict as he cut the chives into small pieces and sprinkled them over the set eggs.  He waited a minute for the cheese to finish melting.  Then he folded it in half with the spatula and pushed it out onto a plate.  
  
“Voila!  The perfect omelet, and no flipping was necessary in its creation.”  
  
“That smells wonderful,” said Donna as she finished her toast and helped herself to a slice of Benedict’s. “I didn’t realize how hungry I am until now.”  
  
Benedict set the plate in front of her.  
  
 _I really can’t believe she’s got an appetite._  
  
“This is your omelet,” protested Donna.  “I couldn’t.”  
  
“Please.  I can make another one.”  
  
“I’m just going to have a little taste.”  
  
Benedict busied himself with refilling her tea and making more toast.    When he turned around, Donna had eaten most of his omelet and the remaining toast.  
  
 _Bless her.  If Gran Pauline were alive, she would say Donna has a hearty appetite just like Mum._  
  
“Mmmm...where did you learn to make an omelet?  It’s perfectly cooked.”  
  
Benedict beamed as he put the hot toast down in between them and poured himself the last of the coffee.    
  
 _I am so chuffed that I managed to reap praise from a food critic. I just hope I can continue to impress her tomorrow night with my Tuscan chicken._  
  
“Claire, my godmother, who happens to be an extraordinary cook.  I don’t have a huge repertoire of recipes, but I can manage to keep from going hungry.  I can’t exist on takeaway every night like some people can...”    
  
Donna put down the fork and ate some toast. “Like James, for example.”  
  
Benedict helped himself to a slice of toast and picked up her fork to eat the remainder of the omelet.  It amused him that she had left him three bites. Donna looked at him sheepishly and shrugged.  
  
“I’m sorry.  I ate most of your breakfast. You’re a good cook, Benedict.  I’m looking forward to dinner tomorrow night more than ever.”  
  
“It’s fine.  I’m glad you’re able to eat anything at all. Fancy another one then?”  he asked.  “I can whip one up in five minutes or less.”  
  
Donna held up her hand and patted her stomach.  “Oh, no.  I’m stuffed.  I’m one of those people who can always eat no matter what.”  
  
 _I still can’t believe that she ate most of that omelet and two slices of toast after last night.  I’m lucky I can get crackers and water down the next day without puking it back up._  
  
“Why don’t you relax in the lounge while I clean up.”  
  
Donna got off the chair and took her tea into the lounge.  She fanned herself with her hand as she went over to inspect the climate control setting.  
  
“Gosh, it’s hot in here!  Did you turn it down?”  
  
“I turned off the air con because it was freezing last night,” replied Benedict.  
  
He watched as Donna adjusted the dial and heard the low hum of the air con kicking in.  She sat on the couch and covered herself with the throw that she kept on it.  Before long he felt the cold air coming out of the ceiling vents and shivered.  
  
 _Good thing I don’t live here.  We’d be having a row over how cold to keep the flat all the time.  She likes it much colder than I do._  
  
“So, now that I’m feeling a little more like myself, care to tell me exactly what I did last night?”  
  
Benedict looked up from loading the dishwasher.  “Are you sure you want to know?  Some of your behavior was truly cringe-worthy.”  
  
“Sure. Why not?  As long as I didn’t throw up on you or make an ass out of myself singing in the pub or coming on to you in public.”  
  
Benedict snickered as he refreshed his coffee.  
  
“I believe the term they use in American baseball is you’re three for three, Love.”

  
  
  
  
  
Donna Saint James put her head in her hands after Benedict Cumberbatch had finished regaling her with what had transpired the night before. He had acted out every last thing that had happened with great finesse and assured her that he left nothing out.  
  
“I’m so sorry, Benedict.  You must have been so embarrassed to be seen with me!  I can’t believe I acted like that,” she groaned.  “I’m going to have to apologize to the neighbors.  Andrew must think I’m awful. I’m never touching hard cider again!”  
  
Benedict patted her hand and sat down beside her on the couch.   Donna snuggled close to him, and he put his arm around her as she covered his lap with the throw, which he was thankful for as he was getting chilled.  
  
“You lose your inhibitions when your pissed.  It was kind of funny.  Well, now it is.  It wasn’t then.”  He leaned down to rub noses with her Eskimo style.  
  
“Are we snoodling or snoggling?” she giggled.  
  
“If you give me a kiss, I’ll consider it a snoodle,” he giggled along with her.  “I believe one has to shed one’s clothing for a proper snoggle.”  
  
Donna kissed him on the lips.  “I love your gorgeous lips!”  
  
He returned the kiss.  “Mmmm...that was a very nice snoodle.”  
  
“Ben, how do you act when you’re drunk?”  
  
“I’ve been told that I’m fairly pleasant and talk a lot more than I already do.”  
  
“Gosh!  That’s hard to believe,” Donna smirked, as she cuddled against his chest.  
  
Benedict ignored her. “I also tend to get sleepy and nod off.”  
  
“Hmmm....I get amorous, and you want to sleep.  Bad combination for a couple.”  
  
 _A couple._   Benedict felt butterflies in his stomach.  _Is she starting to consider us a couple?_  
  
 He chuckled. “You were very cute actually.”  
  
“I’m really sorry about the flirting getting out of hand.  I don’t know what to say....how can I make it up to you, Benedict?”  
  
“I’ll take a rain check on that blow job you kept offering once things are sorted between us,” he blurted out with a straight face.  
  
Donna stared at him.  She looked both horrified and intrigued by his comment.  
  
 _Okay...she doesn’t find that funny. It was definitely the liquor talking  last night._  
  
Benedict coughed and laughed to hide his embarrassment.  “I was teasing you, for fuck’s sake!”.    
  
 _I wasn’t teasing, but now is not the time to push the issue._  
  
 _Oh, oh.  He’s not teasing.  He means it.  If we become a couple, he’ll get his blow job and then some._  
  
Donna yawned and rested her head on his shoulder. “I’m starting to recall some of our conversation.  We were having a pretty serious talk, and you said you wanted to come back here and talk some more last night.  What’s on your mind?”  
  
“Not now.  You’re not feeling one hundred percent, and I don’t want to have a serious talk until you’re back on your game.  We’ll talk tomorrow night – and I promise it’s nothing bad.”  
  
Donna nodded and glanced at the kitchen clock.  She frowned and ruffled her hair.  
  
“Wow!  It’s almost noon...and I have the weirdest feeling that I have to be somewhere....I’d better check my calendar.”  
  
 _Tell her, Benedict, before she realizes!  It has to come from you. The worst thing would be to not tell her and she catches you in a lie.  Never lie._  
  
“You don’t have to check your calendar. You were supposed to meet Jimmy at Borough Market for lunch today,” said Benedict off-handedly.  “You asked me to wake you at nine, but you chased me away.”  
  
Donna bounced up off the couch.  
  
“Oh my God!  You’re right!  I’m supposed to meet Jimmy for lunch at Borough Market!  Shit! Shit! Shit!  I’ve got to call him.  Christ, he’s going to think I’m an irresponsible moron.”  
  
“There’s no need to ring him, Donna.  I took care of it.”  
  
Donna was looking about for her cellphone and froze at Benedict’s words.  She turned and peered at him through narrowed eyes.  
  
“Excuse me, but what exactly did you take care of, Benedict?”  
  
 _Oh, oh...the aspirin is working. She seems more like herself._  
  
“Well, since you were so out of it, I rang Jimmy and told him you wouldn’t be meeting him.”  
  
Donna forgot about the phone and stood over Benedict, hands on hips.  She did not look pleased with him.  
  
Benedict suddenly felt very warm and his heart started to race.  
  
 _Fuck. This is not good.  She looks like she’s about to lose her temper._  
  
“Gosh, maybe my brain is still pickled from all the alcohol, but I could swear that you just told me that you took it upon yourself to cancel my date with another man. Do I have that right or did I imagine it?”  
  
Benedict’s face flushed and his neck reddened.  He began to rub his thigh.  
  
“Erm....”  
  
Donna began to pace back and forth in front of the couch, her face a mask of concentration as if trying to recall something.  
  
“Erm...I can explain....”  
  
“Wait a minute!” She held up her hand to silence him.  “I remember what happened...I asked you to wake me at nine so I would have time to get ready.”  
  
Benedict nodded.  “That’s right and then.....”  
  
“You didn’t wake me!  You let me sleep!” Donna shook her finger at Benedict.  “You did it on purpose so I would miss my date because you’re jealous!”  
  
Benedict sprang up from the couch and towered over her.   He did not like being called out, especially when he was feeling guilty about his actions deep down inside.  
  
“That’s not true, Donna!” he barked, ice blue eyes flashing.  
  
 _Well, part of it is; but you don’t need to know everything....like how my heart really wasn’t in it when I tried to wake you...make that I didn’t try very hard to wake you at all...because my heart aches whenever I think of you with Jimmy._  
  
“I did get up at nine and tried to wake you several times; but you chased me away,”  he continued in a testy tone.  
  
Donna scoffed and waved her hand dismissively.  “That’s hard to believe.  I get up early every morning and bounce out of bed.  I’m a morning person. Every one comments on just how pleasant I am in the morning.”  
  
“Well, believe it; because you were anything but pleasant this morning!  You insisted that you wanted to sleep and asked me to leave you alone. You were quite adamant about it as my balls will testify.”  
  
“What in the heck are you talking about?”  
  
“I was sitting beside you; and you kicked out at me, almost hitting me in the balls.  It’s a good thing that I have quick reflexes or children would not be on my future agenda.”  
  
 _Children...we talked about children last night.  Marriage, too. And living arrangements.  I think I know what he wants to talk about tomorrow night. He wants to have a serious talk about the future – our future._  
  
“It wasn’t up to _you_ to call James and break our date.  That was _my_ responsibility.”  
  
“Would it have been better to let the man go all the way to Borough Market and wait for you to show up while you were sleeping it off?  I knew about the date already – its not like it was a secret. He’s my friend, so I thought it would be the right thing to let him know or would you have preferred I let him wait around at the market for hours until you showed?”  
  
 _Hmmmm...not bad on the fly, Benedict.  That sounded pretty sincere. Let’s see if she buys it._  
  
“I hardly think he would just wait there for hours.  You grossly exaggerate, Benedict.  James would have called to see what happened. He knows how punctual I am.”  
  
“Probably,” Benedict muttered under his breath.  
  
 _No sale!_ thought Benedict miserably.  
  
“No, not _probably_. James is definitely the type who would call me if I were as much as fifteen minutes late.”  
  
“Don’t I know it for a fact,” commented Benedict dryly.  “He’s done it to me enough times.”  
  
“That’s because punctual you are not. The bottom line is you shouldn’t have done that – I realize you thought you were doing me and Jimmy a favor; but a part of me still feels deep down inside that you acted primarily out of self-interest and jealousy.  It was none of your concern, Benedict; and I’d appreciate it if you would mind your own business.”  
  
 _Time to throw in the towel, Benedict.  You can’t waffle your way out of this one._  
  
“You’re right, you know.  I was jealous.  I wanted you to spend the day with me, not him.  I should have left things alone. I’m sorry for upsetting you for what its worth, Donna.”  
  
“Let’s chalk it up to jealousy causing misguided intentions on your part.”  
  
Benedict burst out laughing and Donna raised a quizzical eyebrow at him.  
  
“I didn’t mean to laugh, but you sounded just like a barrister!”  
  
“That’s because my mother is a lawyer...I guess some of her has rubbed off on me.”  
  
 _God help me!_ thought Donna.  _Mom’s not exactly a person one wants to emulate at times._  
  
“Now, I need to call James and straighten everything out with him; so if you don’t mind, I’m going to need some privacy.”  
  
 _What the fuck?  After all that, she’s throwing me out?  I just cocked up everything! Why didn’t I just mind my own business for once?_  
  
Benedict looked crestfallen as he got up.  “I understand.  I have to go to that rehearsal anyway.  I’ll see you tomorrow night then or do you want to cancel it?”  
  
Donna was looking behind the pillows for her cellphone and stopped.  
  
“Where are you going? What are you talking about, Benedict?  I don’t want you to leave. I’m just going into the bedroom to make the call.  Why don’t you use the time to print out the script so you don’t have to run back and forth to Hampstead?  Let me sign onto my laptop, and you can use it while I’m on the phone.”  
  
Benedict’s face brightened.  “So you’re still coming to dinner then?”  
  
“Why wouldn’t I?”  
  
“Well, you seemed pretty angry just now; so I thought you may not want to come over....or see me...”      
  
Donna laughed and pushed Benedict back down on the couch.  She kneeled on the couch beside him and hugged him tight. She could feel him tremble slightly and hear his heart hammering inside his chest.  Then she gently stroked his cheek as she spoke.  
  
“Oh, Benedict, just because we had a disagreement, doesn’t mean it’s the end of the world.  I suspect we’ll have many others, too.  It’s part of the getting-to-know-you process.  And once we know everything there is to know about each other, there will still be conflicts at times.  No relationship runs one hundred percent smoothly.  You are such a dear, dear man; and I appreciate everything you did for me last night and this morning!  You were kind and considerate and absolutely wonderful to me.”  
  
“I thought for a minute that you wanted to break up...well, not that we’re in anything to break up,” he said softly. “Are you sure about tomorrow night?”  
  
“Of course, I am!  Especially after that killer omelet! I wouldn’t miss your cooking or the pleasure of your company for anything in the world...especially your surprise dessert...and our talk.  You can go to your rehearsal from here and when you get back, we can go for a walk and have some dinner. I’ll probably be a few minutes,” Donna wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him eagerly.  
  
Benedict instinctively deepened the kiss and pulled her close to him.  Their lips parted and their tongues explored each other’s mouths. Finally, they came up for air, foreheads pressed together.  
  
“That should hold you until I’m done,” said Donna with a wink, as she got up. “Might you have any idea where my cellphone wound up?”  
  
“In your handbag,” Benedict replied absentmindedly as he went to the desk and switched on her laptop.  A popup window asked him for a password. “What’s your password?” he asked innocently.  
  
Donna’s face reddened.  “BovineLuvr1120.  Don’t judge me.”  
  
Benedict burst out laughing. “Oh, my darling – it’s too late for that!”

  
  
  
  
  
Once Donna had left the room, Benedict practically collapsed onto the desk chair with relief.  He felt as if a catastrophe had been averted and said a silent prayer of thanks for the reprieve.  He signed into his email and sat back to wait as the script pages began to spit out of the printer.  
  
Benedict’s eyes wandered over the shortcut icons on Donna’s desktop.  There was one labeled “BEN” that immediately caught his eye.  He surreptitiously glanced over his shoulder to make sure he was still alone and clicked on the folder.  A pop up window asked him for a password.  
  
I wonder what she has in there about me that has to be password protected? I’d love to know what’s in there.  Perhaps I’m just flattering myself and BEN is an acronym for something that has nothing to do with me.    
  
Benedict tried to think of passwords Donna might use, but nothing unlocked the folder.  As he was about to click on the folder marked “Photos”, he heard Donna call him from the bedroom.  He got up and went to see what was wrong.  She was sitting cross-legged on the black leather armchair, fiddling with the zipper of her handbag.    
  
“Do you think you can get this open?  I seemed to have gotten the zipper stuck in my drunken stupor last night.”  
  
Benedict took the bag from her and tried to pull the zipper, but it wouldn’t budge.    
  
 _Fuckity, fuck, fuck!  I was the last one in her bag – I zipped it shut after I put back her keycards!_  
  
“Grrrr....this motherfucker’s really stuck fast,” grunted Benedict as he kept trying to pull it.  “Arrrgghhhhh......something must be caught in it...grrrr....like the bloody lining.”  
  
“I love that bag!” said Donna sadly.  “It goes everywhere with me.”  
  
Benedict continued to pull to no avail.  “Damn!  I don’t want to force it.”  
  
 _And I don’t have the money to replace an expensive bag like this right now – it must cost over two thousand pounds easy._  
  
“Please give it one last try,” begged Donna.  “I need to get at my stuff.”  
  
Benedict summoned all his strength and gave the zipper one last good tug. This time he succeeded in getting it open, except it came off the track and some of the teeth broke.  The zipper was ruined and the lining that had been caught in it was ripped.  
  
“FUCK!  I’m so, so sorry, Donna!  I’ll pay whatever it is to have it repaired. I’m the one who closed it last – I must have caught the lining in the zipper.  Empty it, and I’ll bring it to Louis Vuitton first thing tomorrow – they have a store on New Bond Street.”  
  
Donna laughed.  “Oh, there’s no need to bother with that!” she exclaimed with a wave of her hand. “This isn’t a real Louis Vuitton bag! I _wish_ it were, but there’s no way I could ever justify paying twenty-five hundred dollars for one.  This is a very good knockoff I bought off a guy on 32nd Street back home for fifty bucks.  It’s served me well over the years, and I feel I got my money’s worth.  I’ll get another one when I go home for Thanksgiving.”  
  
 _Thank God she isn’t high maintenance after all._  
  
“What will you use in the meantime?”  
  
“I’ve got another one in a different pattern,” Donna said going to the closet and taking it off the top shelf.  “See! They look like the real thing, don’t they?”  She removed her cellphone from the old bag. “I’m going to call Jimmy now.  Then I'm going to take a nap after you leave and hope I wake up hangover free.”  
  
“Yeah. I'm willing to bet Louis Vuitton would have trouble telling the difference, too,” replied Benedict as he left the room, feeling extremely relieved on many levels.

  
  
  
  
  
Later that afternoon James Rhodes was still fuming over his conversation with Benedict Cumberbatch as he lie on his couch, trying to distract himself with an old _Ghostbusters_ film and Chinese takeaway.  Finally, he turned off the DVD player in disgust and went out onto his balcony for a cigarette.    
  
 _I appreciate that Ben thought to ring me; but I don’t like the way he went about it.  Even though Donna rang to let me know what happened,  I still wonder if she were as angry with him as I am? If I were her I wouldn’t be too happy to find out that one of the men I’m dating took it upon himself to cancel my date with the other. She just made it sound like it was perfectly fine with her. Bullshit. The wanker must be so relieved that he got away with it._  
  
James gazed out at the people going about their business in Regents Park, but his thoughts kept returning to his conversation with his pal.   
  
 _Ben must be right pleased with himself that I’m the odd man out today, and he’s got her all to himself – hungover or not. Well, we’ll see about that!_  
  
James finished his cigarette and went back into his flat.  In his bedroom was a small envelope stuck into the frame of the large mirror that hung over his dresser.  He opened the envelope and examined the contents. His face split into a huge grin as he visualized the scenario.  
  
“You want to play games, Cumberbatch, I’ll play,” said James Rhodes to himself.  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I have no idea what the real rehearsal process is for Cabin Pressure. I’m assuming there is one before the show is recorded. In this universe the cast meets a day or two before the actual recording.
> 
> 2\. There is a guy who sells extremely convincing designer bags in Koreatown in NYC. The selection is small – six to ten bags of different high-end designers. Supposedly, they are “seconds”, but who really knows?
> 
> 3\. Donna’s cow slippers: http://www.kaboodle.com/reviews/multi-coloured-cow-slippers
> 
> 4\. I've heard Benedict use both call and ring interchangeably when referring to phone calls; so I took the liberty of having him use both.
> 
> 5\. I gave Wanda and Timothy the week off, but they'll be back next week
> 
> 6\. Next week is the start of the Parliament Hill Farmers Market chapters.


	50. Chapter 50

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Benedict has breakfast with Timothy. Donna and Benedict have a revealing conversation. Timothy makes a decision. 
> 
> Note: There will be a lot of switch back for things happening at the same time, so I’ll be back to using *********

  
  
Timothy Carlton arrived at the Coffee Cup on Hampstead High Street  promptly at nine o’clock fully expecting not to find his son waiting.  He was not disappointed.  
  
 _I should have come at nine thirty and made him wait for me for once, but that’s the time he’ll most likely show up._  
  
Timothy opted for a table outside since the day had dawned sunny with a very light breeze. He sat facing the street and ordered a freshly squeezed orange juice and a Cafe Americano while he waiting for Benedict to arrive.  He opened his newspaper and began to scan the headlines when his mobile began to ring.  
  
 _Let’s see, is it Benedict telling me he’s late or Wanda having another go at convincing me to spy on Benedict? Since Benedict never realizes exactly how late he is until he’s arrived, my money’s on Wanda._  
  
Timothy looked at the caller ID.  It was Wanda.  
  
 _Just as I thought. They are both so predictable, bless them._  
  
*************************************************************  
  
  
Donna Saint James exited the Hampstead tube station at nine o’clock and stood off to the side to get her bearings.  She re-read the directions that Wanda had emailed her and consulted a map she had printed out.    
  
 _Hmmm...the market doesn’t open until ten, so I’ve got some time to kill.  I think I’ll take a leisurely walk down the high street and stop in one of the cafes to have some tea and use the bathroom.  Then I can take a bus or walk to the market._  
  
As Donna headed uphill on Hampstead High Street, she was impressed with the quaint, seemingly perfectly-preserved Georgian Village. She felt as if she had stepped back in time. The village sat atop a hill, and Donna found the high street to be an elegant promenade lined with boutiques, shops, cafes, restaurants and pubs.  There was a hodgepodge of  narrow cobblestone streets and picturesque cottages leading off the high street that she made a mental note to come back and explore. Soon Donna found herself attracted to a red and white-striped canopy over a small cafe called the ‘Coffee Cup’.  
  
 _Oh, I think I’ll stop in here for a cup of tea_ , thought Donna.  
  
All the outdoor tables were taken, so Donna went into the cafe and sat at a booth where she had a good view of the street. She had not noticed Timothy Carlton, who now had his back to her, reading his paper and talking on his cellphone.

  
  
*************************************************************  
  


“Hello?” said Timothy, answering his mobile.    
  
He had not noticed Donna Saint James, as she walked right past his table into the cafe and sat in a booth facing his back.    
  
 _“So how’s it going?”_ came Wanda’s chipper voice.  
  
“What do you think?”  
  
 _“You’re waiting for our son, who’s always late; so you’re having a coffee while you read the paper to pass the time.”_  
  
“Excellent deduction, Mrs. Holmes; but you forgot the orange juice.”  
  
 _“My crystal ball doesn’t work in the salon,”_ Wanda chuckled.  _“I do hope Ben’s not too late!  I’m so anxious to hear what he wants to talk about.”_  
  
 _Of course you are. However, I bet you’re even more interested in what happens after breakfast, which is why you just called me. I’ll just sit back and wait for the sales pitch._  
  
Timothy checked his watch.  “They’re running late for your appointment, yes?”  
  
 _“No.  Claire and I are lying here with our mud masques on and having aromatherapy....lemon verbena, which is quite lovely!  Claire also opted for the waterfall sounds, so she’s wearing noise-canceling headphones. As a matter of fact, I can feel the masque starting to tighten; so I won’t be able to talk much longer.  Can’t risk cracking it.” __  
  
 _Such a pity.  Oh well._  
  
“I certainly wouldn’t want you to crack it, Pet; so I’ll just ring off then.  Give my love to Claire. Che....”  
  
 _“Hold it!  I didn’t say I couldn’t talk at all yet...I can still talk through my teeth.”_  
  
 _God smiles down upon me.  He must really enjoy my life._  
  
 _“I know I promised myself that I wouldn’t say another word...”_  
  
 _Why do I sense you’re about to break said promise?_  
  
 _“...but, should you change your mind, Tim -  and I’m not in any way telling you that you should....”_  
  
 _Of course you are.  I know when I’m being given orders after 33 years of marriage, no matter how subtle you may think you are._  
  
 _“ – but should you change your mind, please remember to take pictures of the meeting.”_  
  
 _Pictures?  Has she lost her bloody mind? Perhaps I should tell her that I’m still on the fence.  No.  She will only say something to push me off.  I can’t justify doing that to Benedict.  Let me pretend he’s here, so I can ring off._  
  
“Oh, I think I see Benedict now...yes...that’s definitely him,” said Timothy.  “I’ll talk to you later then...”  
  
 _“I’d like to say hello to him, Tim.  He’s been trying to reach me.”_  
  
 _For fuck’s sake!  How long does it take that damn masque to harden?_  
  
“Well, he’s not quite here yet.  He’s coming down the street. You know how he dallies.”  
  
 _“He isn’t anywhere near you, is he?”_  
  
 _She always knows.  Sometimes I wonder whether she really does have a crystal ball hidden away somewhere._  
  
“Well, I’m sure he is near...nearish.  I hope.”  
  
 _“Tim, listen! Please! This is important:  if you should go and decide to take photos, make sure to get their faces.  I don’t want to see their backs, in case I decide to make them a scrapbook about how they first met....”_  
  
 _She’s talking like I’ve just about made up my mind in her favour.  I might as well let her prattle on because once she starts there is no stopping her._  
  
“While you’re at it, don’t forget to include a copy of your want ad and Donna’s response.  I’m sure Benedict will love showing that to their children one day. Too bad the stains came out of my tie, you could have cut and pasted a square of the material in the scrapbook....”  
  
 _“Ha ha.  Very funny,”_ scoffed Wanda.  
  
“....and had I known you had developed a penchant for scrap-booking, I would have encouraged you to save one of those lemon slices that she almost blinded you with.”  
  
 _“Oh, bugger off, Tim!   You know, I was just thinking....”_  
  
  _I so hate it when they start to think.  I can only imagine..._  
  
 _“....you could pretend that I forgot to get something for dinner, and you could accidentally bump into them and invite them to tea!”_  
  
 _No, I couldn’t have imagined that one in a hundred years._  
  
“Wanda, I really don’t think that’s.....”  
  
 _“ ......Then you would have to ring me up immediately, so I can make a booking at the Orangery for tea. It’s such a lovely atmosphere and both Donna and Ben will be comfortable there. Four o’clock should work...”_  
  
 _And she wants to return to the scene of the crime with both of them. Jesus!_  
  
“Fancy another go at getting blinded by a bloody lemon slice or being crippled by that ridiculous handbag then?  Or do you intend to book the same table you interviewed Donna at for old time’s sake? Perhaps you can get me the adjoining table, and I’ll just pop home to get the book I was reading that day.”  
  
 _“Hells bells, Tim!  Stop being cheeky!”_  
  
“Wait!  I’m becoming more inspired by the moment. We can act out the entire meeting for Benedict with Donna as the guest star. I’d bet our son would be extremely impressed with the seamless way you – I mean _we_ – handled everything. I could ask our server to take photographs of the whole thing.  I don’t know about you, but I’d certainly want a picture of his face after that...for the scrapbook, of course.”  
  
 _“Very funny, Tim. I’m laughing so hard, I can barely catch my breath.  I’m definitely calling Susan first thing Monday to suggest she add you to the agency’s roster of comedians.”_  
  
“I really don’t think it’s a good idea, Love.”  
  
 _“Of course it is!  Comedians get paid quite well from what I’ve heard.”_  
  
“I was referring to afternoon tea.”  
  
 _“Did you leave your sense of adventure home?”_  
  
“Yes!  It’s home along with your good judgement!  Now, please stop pressuring me, Wanda!  I can barely understand you, and anyway he’s _really_ here now, so I can’t talk,” bellowed Timothy as he rang off.  
  
“Oooo it’s a bit early in the morning for a domestic, Dad,” chided a bemused Benedict as he sat across from Timothy and placed his market basket on the pavement.  “I’m not quite sure all of Hampstead heard you.”_

  
  
*************************************************************  
  


Donna sat sipping her English Breakfast tea while reviewing the list of stands that were at the market.  She paused to check her watch for the tenth time.    
  
 _I wish I weren’t so nervous about meeting Wanda’s son.  I’ve never done anything like this before...it’s really like picking up a guy.  Maybe instead of pretending to literally bump into him, I should follow him to a stand.  Then while I peruse the produce or something, I’ll try to draw him into a conversation about the market or ask him how to cook something. Wanda did say he can cook. Oh the more I think about this, the more I wonder if I’m doing the right thing._  
  
All of a sudden, Donna’s attention was drawn to what sounded like a voice raised in anger from just outside the cafe:  
  
“Yes! Along with your good judgement!  Now, please stop pressuring me, Wanda!  I can barely understand you, and anyway he’s here now, so I can’t talk!”  
  
 _Holy cow!  I know that voice!  That’s Tim Cumberbatch!  He’s shouting at Wanda._  
  
Donna carefully put down her tea cup and peered in the direction the voice had come from.  There at a table for two right just outside the doorway, sat Timothy Cumberbatch with his back to her.  He was shaking his head in what she took for disgust.  He had apparently just hung up on Wanda.    
  
 _Holy crap!  I must have walked right by him while he was engrossed in the newspaper. How lucky was I?  I wonder what she’s pressuring him about to make his so angry?  He seems so even-tempered. Maybe she wants him to leave his wife for her? Who is here?  I don’t see anyone. Maybe he just said that to get off her off the phone. Poor Benedict. How awful not to know that his father is having an affair with Wanda. I wonder if he even knows Wanda? It’s none of my business.  I need to concentrate on my accidental meeting with Ben Ventham._  
  
As if on cue, Benedict strode into view and sat across from his father.  
  
 _It’s Benedict!  And he has a market basket!  Shit!  I bet he’s going to the market with his father.  Oh, no.  This is the worst possible thing that could happen._  
  
Donna leaned forward and strained, but she could barely make out the conversation.  
  
“Oooo it’s a bit early in the morning for a domestic, Dad,” said Benedict to Timothy, who just shook his head in disgust.

  
  
*************************************************************  
  


Timothy shook his head in disgust.  “Oh, you have _no_ idea.  Some days I could just scream, and this is one of them.”  
  
“It’s really too early for that,” Benedict laughed.  “However, I do have a suggestion.  I find that a good primal scream does wonders to relieve the tension – just make sure all the windows are closed first.”  
  
“I prefer a couple of fingers of Talisker when it gets that bad.”  
  
Benedict opened the menu. “Let’s order and then you can tell me what’s on Mum’s agenda for you today?”  
  
 _I could, but you’d never believe it; or what’s worse you just might and then you’d be looking for a replacement set of parents,_ thought a bemused Timothy as he perused the menu. 

  
*************************************************************  
  


To Donna’s annoyance, four teenage girls came in and sat behind her chattering loudly about an upcoming trip to the seaside they were planning.  She could no longer hear what Benedict and Timothy were talking about.  
  
Benedict was wearing khaki pants with a short-sleeved, button-down blue chambray shirt.  His feet were clad in black canvas espadrilles with no socks.  His auburn hair was tousled-looking, and he hadn’t shaved. He had hooked a pair of sunglasses into the V of his shirt.  
  
 _Yikes! The shirt and pants definitely could use a touch up with an iron.  No socks?  Damn!  I love his socks. I like how he looks with his auburn stubble. It’s kind of sexy._  
  
Donna watched the two men discuss the menu and subsequently place their order. When Timothy turned his head sideways, Donna could definitely see a resemblance. The girls behind her showed no sign of shutting up any time soon as they contemplated taking the tube to Oxford Street to do some shopping for swimming costumes.  
  
 _Shall I get up and say hello?  Tim does know who I am, and I’m sure Benedict has told him about us by now.  Oh, wait.  I can’t do that.  I almost forgot my secret mission. I can’t let either of them see me. I'm going to have to be careful while walking around the market. I guess I’ll just have to sit here until they leave._

  
  
*************************************************************  
  
“I’ll have the scrambled eggs with smoked salmon and an order of toast and Marmite,” Benedict said to the server.  “What do you fancy, Dad?”  
  
“Kippers on toast and another Cafe Americano.  You can put that all on one bill please.”  
  
“Make that two Cafe Americanos, and I’ll take the bill,” added Benedict.  
  
“I wish you’d let me pay for once,” said Timothy when the server had gone to place their order.  
  
Benedict smiled.  “I want to, Dad. You’ve treated me most of my life, now it’s my turn.”  
  
Timothy folded his paper and drank some orange juice.  “Going to Parliament Hill then?”  he asked, indicating the market basket on the floor.  
  
“Yep.  I have to buy things for dinner tonight and for my trip.”  
  
 _Okay.  That’s good.  He’s still going.  Never hurts to verify these things._  
  
“What’s up with Mum? I can count the times I’ve heard you yell at her in public.”  
  
Timothy sighed.  “It wasn’t yelling.  It was....my piss poor attempt at trying to derail the Wanda Express before it left the station. Unfortunately, I was too late.”  
  
Benedict started to laugh.  “Oh, that doesn’t sound good.  You only use that terminology when she really pisses you off.  I hope it had nothing to do with me.”  
  
Timothy rolled his eyes.  “Of course it did, but you’ve probably already guessed the topic; so there’s no need to rehash it.  Besides, you asked me here to talk.  So talk.”  
  
 _And now I can sit back and relax while he waffles his way through to the point,_ thought Timothy as their breakfast was served.  

  
  
************************************************************  
  


Donna Saint James wanted nothing more than to slap muzzles on the girls behind her as they continued to loudly plan their day.  Finally, she got up and switched seats, so her back was to the door.  It was a bit closer; but unfortunately, she still had trouble hearing what Benedict and Timothy were saying.  
  
“What’s up with Mum?”  
  
“.....Oh, that doesn’t sound good.”  
  
“......you’ve probably already guessed the topic and there’s no need to rehash it.”  
  
 _There must be trouble between Tim and his wife.  Benedict obviously knows, too.  I wish I could get him to open up to me about it.  I’d love to tell him about Wanda unless he suspects or Tim has confided in him._

  
  
*************************************************************

  
“It’s been so long since I’ve had kippers, I forgot how much I fancy them,” said Timothy Carlton taking another large bite of his breakfast.  “I have to ask your mother to lay some in.”  
  
Benedict ate some smoked salmon and eggs.  Then he drank some coffee as he watched his father eat.  He put down his cup and steepled his hands, elbows resting on the table.  
  
“Adam called me Thursday...”  
  
 _And the curtain rises on Act One. Thank goodness Wanda already gave me a head’s up._  
  
“Mum was having a coffee with Joss and Adam during a break at the table read and before Adam knew it, she was interrogating him about my love life. Poor chap probably needed a drink when she was done with him.”  
  
 _So far, as expected.  Nothing new here. No one interrogates as thoroughly or as sneakily as Wanda can._  
  
“I’m used to her doing it with the family, but when she starts doing it with my friends, I really have to take issue. We’re not kids anymore, Dad. We’re grown men. It’s not like we’re sitting in the kitchen after school, and she’s trying to find out who really caused the row in the canteen over tea and scones.”  
  
Timothy ate some more kippers and toast.  “Have you discussed this with her?”  
  
Benedict spread some Marmite on his toast. “Mum’s avoiding me because she’s crossed the line and knows I’m not too chuffed with her.  I’ve left three messages on her answerphone.  I called the house this morning, and she brushed me off rather curtly saying that she had to meet my godmother. So, I was hoping you’d have a word with her on my behalf.”  
  
“She and Claire are spending the day together.”  
  
 _And you should count your lucky stars that Mata Hari is busy because if she wasn’t, she would most likely be sitting down the street at Starbucks waiting to tail you to the market._  
  
Benedict finished his toast and wiped the crumbs off his hands with the serviette.  He sat back and circled the rim of the coffee cup with his index finger.    
  
 _That couldn’t be everything.  There must be more to it than that.  I’ll just bide my time and wait for the other shoe to drop, because it will,_ thought Timothy. _It always does._    
  
“You know about the girl I met at Barbecoa.”  
  
“Yes,”  Timothy nodded as he removed his pillbox from his pocket.  
  
 _And so it drops....the curtain rises on Act two, bless him._  
  
“And that I fancy her and asked her out during Emmy’s birthday dinner.”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Mum obviously knows that I fancy this girl from what Adam told me.”  
  
Timothy took his morning medication and chased the pills down with some water.  He tucked the pillbox back in his pocket.  
  
“Ben, let me explain.....”  
  
Benedict raised his hand for Timothy to allow him to finish.  
  
“I don’t need to know the particulars. I have a fairly vivid imagination and can pretty much guess what happened.  I realize that your loyalties lie with your wife.”  
  
 _Oh, you have absolutely no idea, my boy.  I’m your mother’s partner-in-crime through thick and thin with this scheme – plan - of hers – of ours._  
  
“Mum saw Thursday as a golden opportunity to pump Adam in order to find out more about the girl – like her name and profession...”  
  
“When you think about it, Ben, Adam didn’t really give her that much information.”  
  
“....and just how serious the relationship is.”  
  
Timothy crossed his legs and regarded his son.  
  
“You’re probably not going to like what I’m about to say, Ben; and I’m surprised at myself that I feel the need to say this.”  
  
“Why do I get the feeling you are about to take Mum’s side?” scoffed Benedict with a frown.  
  
Timothy smiled sardonically and spread his hands.  “Because I am. Believe me, Ben, I never thought the day would come when I’d find myself on the same side of the fence as your mother when it came to your personal affairs; but here I am.”  
  
“Bloody hell!” muttered Benedict, rolling his eyes.  “I was counting on you to talk to her. You’ve always supported me on this issue, Dad!  Why the sudden change of heart?”  
  
 _Okay.  Here goes.  Time to try and find out some information by being subtle or what passes for subtle in this family._  
  
“It’s only natural for parents to be curious about who their child is dating. Just because I’m not as vocal on the subject as your mother is, doesn’t mean I’m not any less interested or curious about this girl. You don’t need me in the mix, too. I choose to stand by and call the shots as I see them, but this time – I wonder if you’re the one causing the conflict by being so fucking mysterious.”  
  
Benedict sat quietly and searched his pockets.  “Shit.  I left my fags home.  Do you have any? I could really use one.”  
  
“Your mother and I quit years ago.”  
  
“Stop trying to bullshit me!” Benedict cackled.  “You confiscated my last pack of Marlboro Lights when I was staying over.”  
  
“And they’re bloody awful.  If you’re going to bother smoking, at least buy the full tar ones,” said Timothy curtly.  
  
Benedict fiddled with his sunglasses and sighed.  “Well, I’m going to partially satisfy your curiosity, and you have my blessing to share this with Mum.  I’ve been more than casually dating the girl from Barbecoa....”  
  
“Whose name begins with a ‘D’ – don’t look at me like that, Ben.  Adam’s the one who slipped with that morsel of information.”  
  
“As a matter of fact, she’s the only one I’ve been seeing since that night in April.  We see each other several times a week and speak and text every day.”  
  
“You’ve been steadily dating someone all this time and don’t tell us?”  
  
Benedict wagged his finger at Timothy. “Now, you sound just like Mum.”  
  
“Sorry. A side effect of being married to the woman for as long as I have.”  
  
“I didn’t want to say anything until I was sure things were serious. Mum will be all over me as soon as she hears as is.  She’ll expect a full report – background, education, family, any prior relationships.  And that will only be the beginning.  Next, she’ll want to invite her parents over for a Sunday lunch, so she can scrutinize them.”  
  
Timothy chuckled and drank some coffee.  “I have to admit, that is exactly what your mother will do.  I remember the poor Poulets at the interrogation dinner. Olivia drank so much wine to steady her nerves, you had to carry her out to the car afterwards.”  
  
Benedict laughed.  “Then it will be.”  He did a perfect imitation of Wanda:  “So, when are you planning to propose, Ben?  You know the pergola on Primrose Hill would be perfect.  Don’t wait too long now.  You don’t want your bird to fly away! You need to give us some grandchildren before we go to the Old Actors’ Home!”  
  
The two men laughed uproariously at Benedict’s mimicry.  
  
“You know your Wanda imitation gets better every time I hear it,” commented Timothy.  “Then again you’ve had 32 years to perfect it.”  
  
Benedict ruffled his hair and grimaced.  “You know...sometimes...back in the far corners of my mind...I wonder if maybe I should have encouraged Mum to write a wife wanted ad for me. Then I could post it on one of those websites like Craigslist.”  
  
Timothy choked and spit the coffee onto the table.    
  
“Dad!  Are you okay?”  Benedict patted his father on the back.  
  
Timothy wiped his mouth with his serviette and coughed.  “I’m fine.”  
  
 _I lie.  I’m not fine.  I feel panic starting to well up inside my gut._  
  
Benedict wiped up the coffee with his serviette. “I didn’t mean to do that to you.  I know it’s an absolutely outlandish idea.”  
  
 _Not as outlandish as you seem to think._  
  
“Can you imagine Mum writing a personal ad for me?”  
  
 _Yes, I can; and she did a fine and splendid job of it, I might add. You would be chuffed as could be – once you worked through the anger that would ensue._  
  
“To be honest with you, Ben, I _can_ imagine her doing that.”  
  
Benedict laughed and slapped his thigh.  “The funny thing is, so can I!  I bet she would be brilliant at it, too.”  
  
 _Brilliant doesn’t even come close to describing it. You have no idea just how well she’s handled this.  The plan was expertly conceived and executed so far. The woman could be a professional matchmaker._  
  
“She’d probably want to screen the candidates for me – could you picture her conducting interviews?”  
  
 _I don’t need to picture that.  I was there for all of the interviews. All conducted with the expertise of a Human Relations Manager except for the near-riot at Quince with the not-so- lovely Samantha Alden-Thomas.  How funny is it that you were at the scene of the crime for two of them but had no idea what we were up to?_  
  
Benedict sighed wistfully.  “Just think how easy it would be.  Mum does all the work, which she would consider an absolute labour of love; and then all I have to do is go out on a date. Voila!  Love at first sight, and we all live happily ever after!”  
  
“Ben, your mother is absolutely brilliant at whatever she sets her mind to do. And if you truly wanted her to find you a wife, she’d be more than up to the task.”  
  
 _And how easy would that make my life if you actually said yes? We could come out of the closet and discuss the whole plan openly._  
  
Benedict stopped laughing. “I was joking, Dad.  _Really_.  I didn’t mean any of it.  I was just thinking aloud.”  
  
 _And that’s when the trouble starts – when they start thinking. Enough frivolity for one morning._  
  
 “Are you serious about this girl, Benedict?”  
  
“You’re definitely hanging around with Mum too much,” teased Benedict.  “I’m very serious about her, Dad. I haven’t felt like this since Olivia. There’s just one little problem.”  
  
 _Isn’t there always a little problem? Why am I not surprised? The curtain goes up on Act Three._  
  
“Please don’t tell me she’s married.”  
  
“Oh, no!  She’s definitely single.  It’s just that she’s open dating.”  
  
“Explain.  I’m not familiar with the term.”  
  
“It means you basically date whomever you fancy – it could be several people at the same time.”  
  
“Sounds terribly complicated and a sure-fire recipe for possible heartbreak.”  
  
Benedict rubbed the back of his neck.  “It can be...it is actually. You see she’s dating someone else besides me....someone I happen to know.”  
  
Timothy went to drink some juice, but his glass was empty.  
  
 _He knows his competition.  How very interesting._  
  
“Oh, now I understand why you’re not anxious to discuss the girl with us. Should things fall through, there would be no living with your mother.”  
  
“Exactly.”  
  
“At least you know your competitor.  That should make things easier – like predicting his behaviour”  
  
Benedict nodded as he rubbed his thigh.  “Yeah.  It has actually. It’s been a trying experience...he’s open dating, too.”  He folded his soiled serviette and tossed it on the table top in anger.  “What irks me is that he’s also seeing a wonderful girl, who is just perfect for him.  Part of me thinks that the wanker actually enjoys being in competition with me.”  
  
“Do Mum and I know him?”  
  
Benedict stared at Timothy for a few seconds as if trying to decide whether he should answer.  He licked his lips nervously.  
  
 _Oh, my son! Your silence speaks volumes.  Wanda and I obviously know the bloke._  
  
“Yeah, and that’s all I’m saying for now.”  
  
 _That was enough. Hmmm...he’s got a few single friends left.  Tertius, Mark – no, Mark’s getting married soon, James, Daniel, Nick. I wonder if it’s one of them or a more casual acquaintance whom we all know?_  
  
The server brought the bill, and Benedict checked it over.  He removed his wallet and placed some notes on the table.  
  
“She’s coming over for dinner tonight, and I plan to ask her for a commitment then.  I don’t want to keep wondering how I measure up to this guy anymore.  I want to pursue the relationship, because I think we can have a lovely future together...a home, children – everything I’ve ever wanted.”  
  
“Do you have any clue as to how she feels?”  
  
Benedict smiled brightly.  “I’m _fairly_ sure she feels the same way about me. I’m just not certain if she’s ready to be part of a couple yet.  God knows I am!”  
  
Timothy nodded.  “I’m glad you’ve been taking this slow enough.  This seems like a sensible next step.”  
  
“I’m in love with her, Dad,”  Benedict blurted out.  
  
 _Ah, this changes everything.  He’s in love.  It won’t matter if Donna Saint James sprinkles fairy dust on him now.  Wanda will be upset at first, but once she realizes the odds of finally having a daughter-in-law are in her favour, she’ll come around._  
  
Timothy nodded again.  “Then I agree that you should make your move tonight.”  
  
“If all goes well, I want you and Mum to meet her as soon as possible. That should permanently derail the Wanda Express.”  
  
Timothy patted Benedict on the shoulder. “Good try, but the Wanda Express will always find uncharted territory to explore.” Timothy smiled.  “You know your mother will be ecstatic, but I think she would like to hear the news directly from you.  I’m not going to say anything more except to confirm that you’re seriously dating someone.”  
  
“Sounds reasonable.  If D...she... agrees to be in a committed relationship, I’ll pop over to share the news; and we can discuss when you two can meet her.”  
  
Timothy shifted in his seat, and Benedict found himself looking into the window of the cafe.  Sitting at a table facing the door was Donna Saint James.  His heart began to pound in his chest, and he furiously rubbed his thigh.  Their eyes met for a brief second as the server brought Benedict his change.    
  
 _What in the hell is Donna doing here!_  
  
“Erm....I have to use the loo, Dad.  Be back in a minute.”

  
  
  
*************************************************************  
  


 

After only being able to catch a word here and there, Donna Saint James returned to her original seat and waited for Benedict and Timothy to finish their breakfast.  She watched as the server brought the bill to Benedict.  
  
 _Great!  They’re done.  Now, he can pay the bill; and I can get out of here once they’re gone._  
  
However, to Donna’s dismay, the pair kept talking and talking.  
  
 _Good gravy!  Tim talks as much as Benedict does.  Like father, like son.  I’ve got to get going to the market so I can figure out where to bump into Ben Ventham._  
  
Suddenly, Timothy moved his chair a bit; as the server returned with Benedict’s change.  Donna found herself staring right at Benedict, whose ice blue eyes suddenly lit up in recognition of her.  

_Shit.  I’m pretty sure he saw me. What am I going to do?_

  
  
*************************************************************  
  


Benedict stood up and pocketed the change, as he spoke to Timothy.    
  
“Erm....I have to use the loo, Dad.  Be back in a minute.”  
  
Timothy sat quietly, mulling over what Benedict had told him.  
  
 _So Benedict and one of his mates are dating the same girl.  It has to be one of his closer friends, because it really seems to be bothering him. I doubt he would be that upset over an acquaintance._  
  
Timothy watched a couple as they sat at the table beside him in an effort to distract himself from where his mind wanted to go.  However, his mind kept returning to what Benedict had said.  
  
 _Now, I know for a fact that Jimmy Rhodes had a coffee date with Donna Saint James.  Wanda and I both saw them together that Saturday.  Jimmy even introduced us.  He said it was their first date, and they met at the Steinway Store. Now, Ben would certainly know if Jimmy were seeing someone; and he would have shared the information with us by now. That was quite awhile ago.  Benedict is withholding information until the situation gets sorted out...unfortunately those are the pieces of the puzzle I need most._  
  
Timothy picked up Benedict’s market basket and reviewed the shopping list inside it:  
  
Roaster chix, cut up, skin on  
Garlic/Onions/Thyme/Lemons/Potatoes/Apples/Pears/Bananas  
EVOO  
Loaf semolina bread  
Salad greens  
Black Olives/Stilton cheese/cherry balsamic dressing

Choc cake/chantilly cream/cherries/fudge sauce  
Fags/lighter fluid  
Astro Glide  
Durex Real Feel  
  
  
 _He’s making Wanda’s famous Tuscan chicken.  That will definitely impress his date. It looks like he plans on two puddings – one for her and one for him,_ Timothy thought sarcastically.  
  
Timothy opened his newspaper and found he couldn’t concentrate on what he was reading.  
  
 _I just wish I could stop thinking...that’s how the trouble starts, and it applies to me, too!_  
  
Timothy Carlton frowned as an idea was born in spite of his best efforts.  
  
 _Jimmy Rhodes is still single and went out with Donna Saint James once that I know of. For all I know, it could have been a one-shot date. And for all I know they could still be dating._  
  
 _Ben and Jimmy are friends.  They can also be competitive._  
  
 _Ben’s girl believes in open dating.  Ben’s friend likewise._  
  
 _I don’t know if either Jimmy or Donna are involved in open dating, but they could be._  
  
 _Ben’s girl’s name begins with a ‘D’.  Donna begins with a ‘D’._  
  
 _Could it be possible that Donna Saint James is the girl Benedict met at Barbecoa?_  
  
 _No. That doesn’t make any sense at all._  
  
 _Donna Saint James has the photo of Benedict that I emailed her.  Surely she would have recognized him as the man she’s dating.  However, she’s going to the market today to bump into Benedict, therefore she’s not the girl from Barbecoa._  
  
 _The girl from Barbecoa has to be someone else._  
  
 _It would be interesting to see how everything plays out rather than waiting for her to call Wanda later on._  
  
 _Shall I throw caution to the wind and do a bit of spying at the market? I know what Wanda would say:  Hop to it, Tim!_

  
  
*************************************************************

  
Benedict strode into the cafe just in time to see Donna disappear into the alcove where the bogs were located.  He stood outside, arms folded and leaned on the wall across from the door to the ladies room.    
  
 _She had to have seen me.  We looked right at each other. Could she be hiding on me?_  
  
He could barely make out the sound of the flushing toilet and water running in the sink.  Then came the sound of the hand dryer.  
  
 _Good. She’ll be out soon. Then I can ask her what she’s doing here._

  
*************************************************************  
  


Donna looked at her reflection in the restroom mirror, as she reapplied her lip gloss and checked her hair for the third time.  She took out the elastic and redid her high ponytail, taking care to position the daisy on the elastic so it could be seen.  
  
 _I wonder if they left by now?  It’s getting stuffy in here, and I have to get to the market so I can have a look around before Ben Ventham arrives._  
  
She slowly opened the door and stuck her head out to see if Benedict and Timothy had left.  To her great relief the table was empty.  Donna smiled and stepped out of the bathroom, closing the door behind her.  She jumped when she realized there was a man leaning against the wall, apparently waiting for her.  
  
“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” said Benedict with a lazy smile.  
  
“Benedict!  What a nice surprise!  It sure is a small world,” exclaimed Donna, as they exchanged a kiss on the lips.  “What are you doing here?”  
  
 _Now, we’ll see just how good of an actress I can be._  
  
“I was about to ask you the same thing,” Benedict replied, as he looked her over.  
  
 _I like her yellow sundress.  Shows off her shoulders and clings just enough to her tits. The bare legs are also very nice with the sandals. She’s got tiny daisies painted on her toes to match the ones on her dress._  
  
 _He’s looking me up and down.  Could he be anymore obvious?_  
  
 _Shit!  She caught me looking at her body._  
  
“You look very lovely today, Donna.  Very summer-like.  I especially like the flowers on your toe nails.”  
  
 _Tell him thank you and make a quick exit before he returns to his line of questioning._  
  
“Thank you.  I guess I’ll see you later....”  
  
“So, what did you say brings you to Hampstead?”  
  
 _I didn’t, and I can’t tell you. Gosh, the longer I know him, the more I understand why his parents call him Barrister Ben._  
  
Donna impatiently adjusted the shoulder strap on her handbag.  
  
“Oh, I had nothing to do this morning, so I thought I’d take a ride up here to see what Hampstead was like....”  
  
 _Then I’m going to the market to try and pick up a man in order to satisfy my obligation to his mother who ran an ad in Craigslist for him that I answered._  
  
“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming up?  I would have been happy to show you around the village.”  
  
 _Damn, he’s a good little cross examiner._  
  
“I knew you had a lot of things to do today, so I didn’t want to bother you.”  
  
“You’re _never_ a bother to me.  I would have made time.”  
  
“I came up on an impulse actually...I thought about it, then changed my mind.  Then when it looked so nice out this morning, I decided what the heck! It’s such a cute little village.  I feel like I’ve stepped back in time.”  
  
“That’s why I like living here so much,” said Benedict.  “It’s an oasis from the hustle and bustle of Central London.”  
  
“I’m going to check out some of the other shops, so I’ll see....”  
  
Benedict rubbed the back of his neck and frowned.    
  
“I thought you and your sister have a catering business to run.  Did you leave her alone today?”  
  
“We don’t have any catering jobs this weekend, so we’re closed. Most of our business stems from catering office lunches and foot traffic in the area during the week.”  
  
“You know, I could have sworn you saw me before. I was sitting outside having breakfast, and it seemed as if we looked right at each other.”  
  
 _He knows, and he knows that I know that he knows.  I can’t fool him._  
  
 _She’s being coy with me.  She saw me and she knows that I saw her, too._  
  
“So, are you getting ready for tonight? I imagine you must have lots to do.”  
  
“Erm...I’m just going to finish up my shopping now, actually,” replied Benedict as he checked his watch. “I’m mostly done. I’ve only a couple of stops to make.”  
  
 _Jesus.  You’re such a liar, Benedict. You’ve got a whole bloody list with nothing crossed off yet. The butcher, bakery, Parliament Hill market, Sainsbury, Super Drug, the dry cleaners.  Then back home to clean up the mess in the fucking flat, do the laundry and then I can first start cooking. I'm getting exhausted just thinking about it._  
  
“I’m really excited to try your cooking after that delicious omelet you made. What can I bring?”  
  
Benedict smiled at her.  “Just yourself.  Oh, before I forget....I suggest that you wear something light weight and comfortable. Actually, what you’re wearing now would be perfect. I’m afraid you’ll find my flat isn’t as cool as yours.”  
  
“Okay.  I’ll leave you to your errands,” said Donna as she quickly kissed him on the cheek and turned to leave.  “See you later!”  
  
 _Bollocks!  Dad’s still here.  I’m not ready to tell him that Donna’s the girl I met at Barbecoa.  He only knows her as the clumsy girl from the Orangery._  
  
“Wait!  You can’t go...yet.”  Benedict grabbed Donna by the arm, pulling her back.  
  
Donna turned with a look of puzzlement on her face.  “Why not?  You miss me already?” she teased.  
  
“Yes...erm...no.  Well...it’s just that....”  
  
Donna raised her eyebrows questioningly at him.  
  
“Come here,” said Benedict taking Donna by the arm and leading her to an empty booth.  He gently pushed her down on the seat and sat across from her. “I’m not alone.”  
  
“You look like you’re alone to me.”  
  
“For fucks sake! Stop playing with me, Donna!  I know you saw me having breakfast, and you know I wasn’t alone.  Why did you hide from me?”  
  
 _Well, I now know that I’m a lousy actress. Damn.  That’s a loaded question. What am I going to tell him?  Gee, Benedict, it’s like this:_  
  
 _...right before we met, I answered a want ad that this nice woman placed on Craigslist for a wife for her son. She wanted to meet me, so she set up an interview at the Orangery, which is how I came to accidentally spill all the desserts on your father, whose misfortune was to be sitting at the table next to us. What you don’t know, is that your father was pretending to read a book while eavesdropping on the interview. It seemed to me like they were texting each other, but I dismissed it as sheer coincidence.  Then afterwards I find out that this woman and your father are having an affair because I was nosy and spying on them from behind the bushes in the Kensington Palace gardens. Your father probably thinks I’m the most accident-prone girl in London. Especially, after how I inadvertently injured his lover with a lemon slice and my handbag.  Anyway, I’m not here to see the village.  I’m here to accidentally bump into this woman’s son at the market, because I promised her that I would. I don’t really want to, but I feel I owe it to her.  So, do you still want to date me?_  
  
“Donna?  Why aren’t you answering me?”  
  
“You’re right. I saw you, Benedict,” said Donna holding up her hands in mock surrender. “You were having breakfast with your father. I was going to come over and say hello, but thought better of it after what happened at the Orangery.  I don’t think I’m his favorite person,” she added sadly.  
  
Benedict took a deep breath and let it out.  “Thank God!  You have no idea how happy I am that you didn’t come over.”  
  
 _Oh, no! Benedict must have told Tim about us. I know that James told Benedict the story of what happened at the Orangery, and Benedict subsequently discussed it with Tim.  I can only imagine what Tim thought upon learning that his son is dating the Klutz of Kensington? The poor man must have been horrified.  I need time to turn things around and show him I’m really not like that.  But first, I need to straighten things out with Wanda and her son._  
  
Benedict nervously looked towards the exit to the cafe and nodded as he rubbed his thigh furiously.  
  
“I don’t want to introduce you to him right now....well not introduce because you already know each other...sort of.  I mean... I don’t know what I mean. Bloody hell! I just know that I don’t want you to see him right now. Fuckity, fuck, fuck!”  
  
Donna frowned and looked down at her outfit.  “Why don’t you want him to see me?  Are you ashamed of me?”  
  
Benedict patted her hand.  “Of course not!  It’s just that I’m not ready to tell my parents about us _yet_.  You and I need to sort some things out before I even consider doing that.”  
  
“Your parents don’t know about me?”  Donna asked incredulously.  “Your father has no idea that you’re dating the girl from the Orangery?”  
  
“Fucking hell, no!”  
  
 _Part of me is relieved, yet part of me is a little pissed off that he told them nothing._  
  
“Just to clarify - your parents have absolutely _no idea_ you’re seeing anyone at all?”  
  
“Do yours?”  
  
“I asked first, Mr. Cumberbatch.”  
  
“Not exactly.”  
  
“What kind of half-assed answer is that?” exclaimed Donna, shaking her head and rolling her eyes.  
  
“Shhhhh!  Please don’t roll your eyes, Donna!”  Benedict sat, tapping his fingers on the table as he searched for the right words. “It’s not what you think. It’s  rather....well....it’s... it’s complicated.  Very complicated.  Let’s just say that whatever I tell my dad will find it’s way to my mum, and I don’t want her to know _anything_ until things are completely sorted out.  She can be....nosy.  No.  I mean difficult.  No.  I mean overly curious when she gets a nugget of information about my love life.”  
  
 _Oh, he's in rare waffling form today._

Donna smiled thinly at Benedict.  
  
 _Okay.  This translates to:  I keep my love life to myself because my mother can be a real pain-in-the-ass once she finds out that I’m going out with someone. She jumps to conclusions, starts planning the wedding and suggests baby names._  
  
“It has nothing to do with you specifically, Donna.  It’s just that Mum can get a bit carried away with these things.”  
  
 _Okay.  Change that from **can be** to his mother **is** a real pain-in-the-ass. She and my mother would probably get along famously._  
  
“I hope you understand the position I’m in.”  Benedict gave her that cute little smile and crinkled his nose at her.  “And forgive any cheekiness on my part.”  
  
Donna sighed deeply and squeezed his hand.  “I understand all too well, Ben.  I’m afraid my mom sounds fairly similar to yours;  so in response to your question:  No, my parents don’t know about you either....and probably for the same reasons.”  
  
Benedict’s mobile phone chimed.  He pulled it out of his pocket and looked to see who the caller was.  
  
“It’s my agent.”  
  
“You’d better take it.”  
  
“I’ll ring him back later. I’m going to go now.  I’m surprised Dad hasn’t come after me.  I’ll see you tonight, and we’ll talk then!”  
  
“I can’t wait!  I’ll hang out here for another few minutes.”  
  
Benedict got up and bent down to kiss her.  “Until tonight then.”

  
  
*************************************************************

  
Benedict left the cafe to find Timothy sitting on a bench under a tree a few stores down.  He was fast asleep with Benedict’s empty market basket on his lap. Benedict gently shook him by the shoulder.  
  
“Dad?  I’m sorry I took so long.”  
  
Timothy yawned, blinked and looked at his watch.  “My back was getting stiff, so I got up to move around.  Then I sat down to finish the paper and nodded off.  What in bloody  hell took you so long?”    
  
 _I certainly can’t tell him that I’ve been explaining to Donna about why I don’t want to put them together just yet._  
  
“Erm....I guess I need to add more fiber to my diet,” Benedict replied shyly.  
  
Timothy nodded.  “According to your mother and my doctor, that’s never a bad idea.”   He stretched and got to his feet.  “I’m off to catch the tube home then.”  He patted Benedict on the arm.  “I’m happy for you, son; and I hope the girl says yes.”  
  
 _That way I don’t have to worry about whether you and Donna Saint James click.  However, I think I’ll hop on a bus to the market and see what happens for myself.  And if things do work out by some miracle, jolly good for us all then!_  
  
Benedict quickly embraced Timothy.  “I’ve got to stop in at the butcher and order a chicken for tonight before I head over to Parliament Hill.  I’ll ring you and Mum tomorrow if everything goes well.”  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I've never been to Hampstead, so descriptions and/or geography is either based on things I have read or are a product of my imagination.
> 
> 2\. The Coffee Cup does exist in Hampstead.
> 
> 3\. This chapter was very complicated to write, as things continue to unravel...I apologize for any errors in continuity that may occur. 
> 
> 3\. Next week is Part One of Parliament Hill Farmers Market!


	51. Chapter 51

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Operation Parliament Hill Part One: Paths cross and converge as Donna, Timothy and Emily go to Parliament Hill Farmers Market. Benedict decides to call in a favor. Wanda attempts to monitor things from the spa.
> 
> Note: There is a lot of switchback to show events happening at the same time, so I’m using ****** again.

  
Timothy Carlton sat on a bus headed for Parliament Hill Farmer’s Market enjoying the passing scenery, when his mobile rang.  As expected, it was from Wanda.  
  
“Greetings from Hampstead, Team Leader! I’m pleased to report that everything is going smoothly here at Mission Control.  Operation Parliament Hill is underway!”  
  
 _“Very funny, Tim! I’m going crackers wondering what’s been going on! How was breakfast?”_  
  
“Delicious. It’s really too bad you couldn’t join us. I had kippers and toast with freshly squeezed orange juice and two cafe Americanos.  Before you ask,  I made sure to ask the server for skimmed milk rather than cream. Your son hoovered up scrambled eggs with smoked salmon and granary toast with Marmite as if he hadn’t eaten in days, bless him.  He only had one cafe Americano with cream and no sugar because they were out of his special brown sugar, so that made him a bit stropy.  I think he may have had two glasses of water, but I wasn’t keeping count.”  
  
 _“Don’t be cheeky, Tim!  You know what I mean.”_  
  
“Oh, silly me!  How could I leave out the best part?”  
  
 _“Which was?”_ prodded Wanda gently.  
  
“Breakfast cost me nothing.  It was Ben’s treat.”    
  
 _“Stop torturing me, Timothy Cumberbatch!”_  
  
“What was that?  I’m having trouble hearing you.”  
  
 _“I’m speaking quietly because I don’t want everyone to hear what I’m saying!”_  
  
“Why? I thought we were on a secure line.  Shall I whisper, too?”  
  
 _“Tim!”_  
  
“I never would have expected the salon to tap their lines, so I didn’t think to speak in code....”  
  
 _“Tim!_ ” cried Wanda in exasperation. _“Stop teasing! I don’t have a lot of time before I have to ring off!”_  
   
“Aren’t you and Claire having a good day so far?”  
  
 _“Of course we are!  We’re done with our facials and massages. We’re just waiting for the manicure and pedicure room to be readied is all.  Claire’s off getting us some kind of detoxifying green drink with spinach and watercress. Now please stop waffling and tell me what Benedict had to say.”_  
  
Timothy smiled to himself.  _Once her nails are done, she won’t be able to call or text me for awhile.  Good._  
  
“Well, he’s getting ready for his big date tonight.  He’s cooking her dinner at his flat.”  
  
 _“I hope she has a hearty constitution or does Bikram yoga - it's going to be bloody hot today.  His flat will feel like they're eating inside the oven. Now, how about some more details?”_  
  
“Well, I don’t know if he’s making a starter, but he is making your famous Tuscan chicken for the main along with a salad and some kind of chocolate dessert.  And before you ask, I only know this because I saw his grocery list.”  
  
 _But I’ll leave out the part about the lube and condoms for the time being._  
  
 _“Was there bread on his list?  He really needs to serve a nice, crusty bread with that dish so the juices can be properly mopped up. I wish I had been there.  I would have told him to buy bread.”_  
  
 _Oh, Wanda!  Had you been present, you would have told him a lot more than to just buy a bloody loaf of bread._  
  
“It’s not like he showed me his list. I just happened to have the opportunity to review it while he was in the loo.  It was just sitting in his empty market basket begging to be read, so I indulged it,” laughed Timothy.  
  
 _“You’re a good spy, Tim. I just wish he had thought to buy a loaf of bread. I always serve bread with that dish.”_  
  
“You can rest easy, Commander.  Now that I think of it, Ben did have bread on his list. I just neglected to properly report it. Will this affect my commission?”  
  
 _“I’m so chuffed that he really does love to make that dish.  It’s his go-to dinner whenever he has company to impress. Was there wine on the list? He really needs to have wine with a romantic dinner.”_  
  
Timothy checked his watch.  The market was now open.  _Where in the hell is Claire with that damn juice?_  
  
“No.  No wine.  Ben always has a bottle or two on hand, so I wouldn’t worry.”  
  
 _“I wonder what kind of dessert he plans to make?  Did he say what he was making, Tim?”_  
  
Timothy laughed. “Wanda, all I can tell you is that he had chocolate cake, cherries and chantilly cream on the list.”  
  
 _“So, this tells us she likes chocolate and cherries."_

"No, that tells us that _he_ felt like having chocolate and cherries."

_"Did he say if it’s the bird from Barbecoa?”_  
  
 _Okay.  I’m allowed to tell her that._  
  
“Yes, it is.  Any more questions, Commander?”  
  
 _“Where is he now?”_  
  
Timothy looked at his watch again. _Hard to say.  He got started later than he expected to._  
  
“I’d say by now he’s at the butcher.  Then he was probably going to head over to the market. I’m thinking he’ll be there by noon...I’m talking Benedict time here.”  
  
 _“What do you mean by ‘probably’?”_ asked Wanda in a concerned tone.  
  
“He had quite an ambitious list of places he wanted to go to.  He didn’t tell me what order he was going in, but he’s definitely going to the market.  As I mentioned, he even had his market basket with him.”  
  
 _“This concerns me.  You know how Ben tends to get distracted. He may not get there until right before the market closes.”_  
  
“Well, it’s a good thing the market is only open until two.  He won’t be able to flit around too much.”  
  
 _“Poor Donna will have to amuse herself while she waits for him.  I hope she doesn’t get disgusted and leave if he’s too late,”_ fretted Wanda.  _“Maybe I should ring her and let her know that he could be late.”_  
  
“I hate to be blunt, Love; but if Donna’s going to be with Benedict, she’s going to have to accept the fact that he’s always going to be late.”  
  
 _“Unless she can change him.  She’s spunky like that.  I could see her trying to train him.”_  
  
“And I can see him balking. That will never happen. We’ve had him for the past 32 years and couldn’t change him.  Olivia had him on and off for twelve years and couldn’t change him.”  
  
 _“Sad, but true,”_ lamented Wanda with a sigh. _“You can’t change a leopard’s spots.”_  
  
“I’m sure Donna is a team player and will stay until the bitter end or in other words:  the arrival of our son.  I don’t think she’s the type who gives up easily once she sets her mind to do something.  I’m proud to call her a member of Operation Parliament Hill.”  
  
Wanda was quiet for a bit before speaking again. _“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous about this meeting, Tim.  I had a nightmare that Donna knocked down one of the stands and missed Ben completely.”_  
  
 _OH, I sure could picture that happening!_   thought Timothy.  
  
“Stop worrying, Pet. It’s out of our hands now. You need to relax and enjoy your spa day and let our friend Fate take over. Hopefully, Operation Parliament Hill will go as planned.  Benedict and Donna will meet. She will charm the pants off him – literally, I hope, so we can have grandchildren.  Then he’ll forget all about the Barbecoa girl, and we’ll have a hand-picked daughter-in-law in no time. And most importantly, Benedict will have no idea and live happily ever after in blissful ignorance.”  
  
 _“Will you be coming home straight away then? Claire and I should be out of here around three or four.  We get a spa lunch served to us right after our manicures and pedicures. I’m hoping it’s not kelp and seaweed salad.”_  
  
Timothy hesitated before answering her.  
  
“No.  I’ve decided to take a walk on the Heath.  It’s been awhile since I’ve done that, and it’s a nice day.  I’ll probably stop for a bite of lunch on the High Street on my way back to the tube station.  There are plenty of places to get a sarnie.”  
  
 _“You know, Tim, you’ll probably walk right past the market or close to it.  You can always get a sarnie there; and while you’re at it, perhaps you could have a peek to see what’s going on?”_ suggested Wanda.  
  
Timothy huffed to himself.  _The Wanda Express has left the station. How much shall I tell her?  Ben said I could tell her that’s he’s serious about the Barbecoa girl, but I’m not ready to tell her yet.  It’s best that I go and conduct my covert operation without her knowledge.  I can always file a complete report with her later._  
  
“I’ll take your suggestion under advisement, Commander; but I’m not wasting my whole day waiting around for Ben to turn up.  You know how he can be when it comes to time management.  I’m thinking of stopping by the Garrick Club to play cards this afternoon.”  
  
 _“Well, have a good time then. Claire just said they’re ready for us. Cheers.”_  
  
Fifteen minutes later, the bus stopped in front of the entrance to Parliament Hill Farmers Market.  Timothy Carlton got off and stood behind a phone booth while he readied his makeshift disguise.  He pulled out the navy blue cap that was folded up inside his trousers pocket and put it on.  Then he donned his sunglasses and headed off into the market with his newspaper folded up under his arm, mobile phone in hand as he wandered around in search of Donna Saint James.  
  
  
**********************************************************  
  
  
Donna Saint James had been walking around the Parliament Hill Farmers Market for a good half hour.  She had no trouble locating it using Wanda’s directions.  Just as indicated, the market was held in the playground of the William Ellis School, which was at the edge of Hampstead Heath.  There were roughly fifty or so stands on the playground selling all kinds of fresh meats, seafood, juices, dairy products, produce and baked goods.  The market had opened the previous year and seemed to have garnered quite a following.  
  
 _I wonder if Wanda’s son is here yet?  She mentioned that he always goes to the Flour Station stand to get a Chelsea bun.  I think I’ll head in that direction. I passed it on my way in._  
  
Donna continued to peruse the various stands and found herself caught up in tasting samples of heirloom tomatoes at a produce stand called the Tomato Stall, which specialized in tomatoes when her cellphone rang.  
  
“Hello?”  
  
 _“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’ve been avoiding me,”_ said Carly. _“This is the third time I’ve tried calling you today. I came upstairs around eight  so you could give me your opinion of the cherry crumb muffins I made, but your cute little neighbor, Andrew, informed me that you had gone out very early.”_  
  
 _Damn,_ thought Donna.  _I hope she didn’t quiz Andrew about what happened to me on Thursday night.  I only left her a brief message that I had a mild case of  food poisoning._  
  
“Isn’t Andrew a honey?  He’s the nicest guy. We’ve really hit it off,” said Donna. “I met him the night he moved in.”  
  
 _“So he told me.   He also said you two are exercise buddies.”_  
  
“Um..yeah.  We are when we our schedules coincide. We try to meet down in the exercise room whenever we can find time.  It makes the workouts go so much quicker when you have company.”  
  
 _“Yeah.  He said it’s hard because he’s an actor and works unconventional hours.  He told me he’s going to be in a play called Cock in November and offered me tickets if Steve and I are interested.”_  
  
 _I didn’t know that!_ thought Donna.  _I knew he had the audition.  He must have just found out he got the part. I’m so happy for him!_  
  
 _“He said he’s leaving for Croatia to film a movie called The Duel next week.”_  
  
“Boy, you sure did find out a lot in such a short time, curly Carly!”  
  
 _“Actually, we chatted for about an hour or so.  Being you weren’t home, and the muffins were still warm, I gave them to him.  He insisted I join him for a cup of tea. He’s quite the conversationalist.”_  
  
“Andrew’s very chatty for sure,” agreed Donna.  
  
“ _He’s not as chatty as your friend, Benedict, though.”_  
  
Donna almost dropped her cellphone.  She was speechless.  
  
 _Benedict?  She knows about Benedict? I bet Andrew said something._  
  
“Donna?  Are you still there?”  
  
 _“Um...yeah.  May I ask how it is that you know Benedict?”_  
  
“Friday morning when you weren’t in the lobby ready for work, I was worried something was wrong; so I called your cell, but it went right to voice mail and your landline was ringing into oblivion.  I decided to go upstairs to check on you...”  
  
 _NOOOO!   She went to my apartment, and he was there.  Knowing Benedict he answered the door....oh...my....God.  He had no clothes on.  Why didn’t he tell me Carly came up looking for me?_  
  
“I forgot to turn the ringer on the landline back on.  I had it switched off because I had this jerk drunk-dialing me Wednesday night ...”  
  
“ _I knocked on the door, and this red-headed Englishman with the most gorgeous blue-green eyes and one of the most seductive voices I’ve ever heard in my life, opens your door wearing one of your flannel sheets and tells me you’re still in bed sleeping....”_  
  
 _Oh, no.  This is the worst possible scenario! I need to go some place where I can talk in private!_ thought Donna as she quickly turned from admiring a large wicker display basket of mini heirloom tomatoes and headed off, thoughts whirling in her head as to how to explain things to her sister.  
  
 _“What was I to think, Donna?  A total stranger answers your door, clad in only a sheet and....”_  
  
“Wait!  Miss!  Stop!  Watch your bloody bag! It’s caught on my tomato basket! You’re going to.....oh, bloody hell!”  
  
Donna was so preoccupied with what to tell her sister that by the time she registered the warning from the man at the Tomato Stall stand, it was too late.  Her huge handbag had caught onto one of the basket’s handles containing the colorful tiny tomatoes. Before she could react, the basket had already been dragged off the table and its entire contents had spilled out and were rolling all over the ground.  
  
  
  
************************************************************  
  
  
Timothy Carlton stood pretending to contemplate the freshly made pasta at the Pasta E Basta stand as he watched Donna Saint James sampling the tomatoes at the Tomato Stall stand across from him.    
  
 _Where in the hell in Ben?  I’ve been following her for the past hour and no sign of him.  Well, at least it appears that she’s enjoying herself._  
  
Timothy rolled his eyes as his mobile rang.  He was not at all surprised to see that it was Wanda, as he walked away from the stand, making sure he could still see Donna.  
  
“Major Cumberbatch here.  How may I serve you, Commander?”  
  
 _“Stop being cheeky, Tim!”_  
  
“I thought you were getting your nails done and couldn’t touch anything.”  
  
 _“My fingernails are done. They used the quick-dry nail varnish. Now, they’re working on my feet.”_  
  
“And you’re ringing me because....you missed the sound of my voice?”  
  
 _“I was just thinking....”_  
  
 _Ah.  There it is again.  She’s thinking.  I wonder what kind of half-assed idea she’s come up with now?_  
  
 _“Perhaps I should just ring Donna Saint James and make sure she’s found the market...”_  
  
“Why would you do that?  You gave her perfectly fine directions.”  
  
 _“Because I’m very anxious for this to go down!  I’m so nervous something will go wrong..  I can barely think of anything else!”_  
  
 _Don’t I know...how many phone calls has she made to me? I think I need to tell her before she drives me totally crackers._  
  
“Okay, Commander.  I’m going to put your mind at rest.  I can assure you that Donna Saint James found her way to the market without any trouble at all.”  
  
 _“How would you know?”_ asked Wanda in a huff.  
  
 _I’m probably going to regret this, but....here goes._  
  
“Because I changed my mind, picked up a disguise and took a bus to the market, where I was able to spot Donna after about twenty minutes of walking around....”  
  
 _“Oh, Tim!  I am so happy that you changed your mind!  This is just wonderful news!”_ exclaimed Wanda.  _“Thank you so much for reconsidering!”_  
  
“It was simply a matter of my curiosity winning out, Pet.  As you had an idea, I was on the fence.”  
  
 _“I’m so chuffed that your curiosity pushed you off of the bloody fence!”_  
  
“I aim to please, Commander.  Will this get me a promotion?”  
  
 _“Be careful, Tim.  We can’t risk her spotting you. Don’t trail her too closely.”_  
  
“Not to worry.  She’ll never recognize me between my disguise and expert covert surveillance techniques.”  
  
 _“May I ask what kind of disguise?”_  
  
“Sunglasses and a cap.  I’ve been keeping my distance.  Neither she nor any of my many fans will recognize me.”  
  
 _“Would you care to share your surveillance technique?”_  
  
Timothy smiled.  “It’s one you’ll approve of, I’m sure.  It’s the same one I used on our interviews. I will simply hide behind my trusty copy of the Guardian when the need arises.”  
  
 _“What’s going on then?  Has Benedict shown up yet?”_  
  
“There’s not much to report, Commander. No sign of the prospective groom yet. However, I’ve been quite busy comparing the nutritional ingredients of the squid ink fettuccine against the beet root, if you must know.”  
  
 _“And what about Donna?”_  
  
“I haven’t had a chance to ask her for her opinion, but I’m sure she has one.  She’s across the way eating cherry tomato samples...wait...hold on just a minute.”  
  
 _“What?  Is it Benedict? Is he there?”_  
  
“She just tasted the tomato jam on a water cracker.  I must say they are quite generous with their samples.  You would definitely approve. One could make a meal on these samples.”  
  
 _“Bloody hell, Tim!”_  
  
“Excellent!  Wait...yes...I definitely need to take a photo of this...now just hold on a minute, Wanda.”  
  
 _“Oh my God!  He’s there now, yes? I can hardly breathe!  Send me a picture of it!!! Quick as you can now!”_  
  
Timothy snapped a photo and sent it to his wife.  The woman at the Pasta e Basta stand was watching him intently.  
  
“I just sent it to your mobile. The woman at the pasta stand is giving me funny looks. I doubt she’s a fan or she would have asked me for an autograph by now. I fear she may suspect that I’m here undercover – especially when I took the photo. I can’t risk having my cover blown; so I think I’m going to have to go back and buy some pasta to bring home.  Is there any kind you fancy?  The squid ink one looked rather interesting.”  
  
 _“Timothy Carlton Cumberbatch, you sent me a photo of Donna Saint James buying a jar of tomato jam!”_  
  
“It’s not just _any_ jam, Pet.  The sign says it’s golden heirloom tomato jam – shall I get us a jar?”  
  
Timothy Carlton smiled when his wife hung up on him.    
  
 _I’ll take that as a ‘no’ then._

  
  
************************************************************  
  


Benedict Cumberbatch had just finished ordering his chicken from the butcher and was on his way to the Parliament Hill Farmers Market when he heard a familiar female voice calling out to him from behind.  
  
“Benedict! Benedict Cumberbatch! Wait up!”  
  
He turned to see his friend, Denise Black, quickly walking behind him and waving. Denise had co-starred with him in the mini-series, To the Ends of the Earth.  The two of them had been involved in a car jacking while filming the series in South Africa, and had remained friends.  
  
Benedict stopped so she could catch up with him.  
  
“It's hard work catching up with you, Benedict!  You walk so bloody fast!”  
  
Denise smiled and gave him a huge hug as soon as she reached him.  
  
“How are you, Darling?” Benedict asked, kissing her on both cheeks.  “You are looking very well.  What brings you to Hampstead?”  
  
“Visiting my niece who’s in hospital.  She just had a baby, so I decided to come up early and get a gift,” Denise indicated the shopping bag she was carrying.  “It’s been an age since I’ve seen you.  You’ve been busy then?”  
  
Benedict smiled.  “Very busy, and it’s all good.  I’ve got a lot going on.”  
  
Denise indicated the Le Pain Quotidien cafe they were standing next to.  “Do you have time for a catch up coffee?”  
  
Benedict glanced at his watch and quickly thought about what he had left to do.  
  
 _I’ve still got the dry cleaners, Sainsbury and the farmers market to go to. Then I have to clean the flat and start cooking. I wish there was a way I could cut back on some of these errands, so I could have a proper catch-up with Dee._  
  
Benedict’s mobile began to ring.   He took it out of his pocket to see that it was his niece, Emily.  
  
“Excuse me one moment, Dee. It’s my niece.”  
  
“Of course.”  
  
“Morning Emmy.”  
  
 _“Hi!”_ said Emily. _“You're sounding very chipper this morning, Uncle Ben.”_  
  
“And you sound a bit out of breath.  Are you okay?”  
  
 _“I just got off the tube at Hampstead, and I’m walking up hill towards the High Street,”_ explained Emily. _“I’m calling because I need some advice.  I’m meeting this hot guy on the heath for a picnic in an hour, and I’ve volunteered to bring the food.  Where can I get some really killer picnic food?  I want something different, so being you’re the Hampstead expert, I thought you could point me in the right direction.”_  
  
Benedict thought for a moment.  “I like Giacobazzi’s for Italian deli....”  Then he stopped as an idea came to him.  
  
 _OH.  Hold on here, Benedict.  Emily owes you a big favour after sticking you with Heather the night of Jimmy’s concert.  If you send her to the market, not only can she get food for her picnic, but she can pick up the items on your list as well._ _Then you'll have time to have a proper catch up with Dee._  
  
Benedict Cumberbatch smiled and covered the mouthpiece of his mobile.  
  
“Yeah, I’ve got plenty of time for a catch up, Dee. Why don’t you get us a table, and I’ll be right in,” he said to Denise.  
  
“What are you drinking these days?”  
  
“A double latte with two demerara sugars.”  
  
 _“Uncle Ben?  Are you there? Who are you talking to? How do I get to this Jackobean deli?”_  
  
 Benedict cleared his throat.  “I was talking to my friend, Dee. Now, forget about Giacobazzi’s.  I have a much better idea that will benefit both of us, my darling niece.”  
  
 _“How so?”_ asked Emily skeptically.    
  
“The Parliament Hill Farmers Market is close by and open today.  You can go there and get whatever you fancy for a picnic.  There are plenty of stands to choose from with all kinds of organic food.  You can get a loaf of bread, some meat and cheese or buy ready-made sarnies. It's all good and should impress your hot date.”  
  
 _“Oh, yes!  That’s a brilliant idea, Uncle Ben!”_  
  
“And while you’re there...”  
  
 _“You did say this would benefit us both.  How so?”_  
  
“Do you remember that you owe me a little favour for putting up with Heather the night of Jimmy’s concert?”  
  
 _“Vividly.  My ears still hurt from your yelling.”_  
  
“Well, I’m calling in the favour.  I need for you to pick up some things for me while you’re at the market.  Then I’ll meet you to collect my food and reimburse you.”  
  
 _“Sounds fair to me. It’s better than having to clean your motorbike or flat. What do you want me to get?”_  
  
“I’ll take a photo of my list and send it to your mobile,” said Benedict as he rang off.

  
  
  
*************************************************************

 

  
Timothy Carlton slipped his mobile into his pocket and went back to the Pasta E Basta stand.  He watched as Donna took a phone call while looking at a large display basket of colourful cherry tomatoes.  The woman at the pasta stand was eyeing him up and down.  
  
“Can I help you, sir?”  
  
 _Hmmm...she probably thinks I’m some kind of weirdo spying on young women.  I’d better buy something._  
  
Timothy smiled warmly at her.  “Yes, please.  I just got off the phone with my wife.  I was telling her all about your products.  As a matter of fact, I took a photo of the pasta and sent it to her.  She asked me to get a container of pesto sauce and a box of the beet root tagliatelle.”  
  
The woman returned the smile.  “Of course.  Have you tried our new pork ragu sauce?  One taste, and you’ll want to bring home a container of that, too.”  
  
“No, I haven’t had it.”  
  
“Oh, you must have a sample.  Let me get you one,” said the woman as she ladled some of the warm sauce onto a few gnocchi in a plastic cup.  “Enjoy.  The handmade gnocchi are on sale – buy one package, get one free.”  
  
Timothy ate the sample and smacked his lips.  The tomato sauce was made from fresh tomatoes and was laced with shreds of very tender pork.  It was flavoured with fresh basil and a hint of oregano.  
  
“You’re right!  This _is_ delicious! I think I’ll take one of those, too.”  
  
Out of the corner of his eye, Timothy saw Donna, who was still talking animatedly on her mobile, suddenly spin around and start to walk away from the Tomato Stall.  
  
 _Damn. She looks like she’s in a tizzy. I’d better hurry up before I lose her in the crowd._  
  
“Wait!  Miss!  Stop!  Watch your bloody bag! It’s caught on my tomato basket! You’re going to.....oh, bloody hell!”  shouted the owner of the Tomato Stall.  
  
“Bloody hell indeed!” exclaimed the woman helping Timothy with his order.  “Would you look at that? I can’t believe I’m seeing this! That girl just took off without minding that huge handbag of hers. I don’t know why anyone would want to carry around something so big.”  
  
Timothy stared in disbelief as a seemingly rattled Donna Saint James succeeded in accidentally pulling down the tomato display she had been admiring only seconds before.  He shook his head as he watched all the little tomatoes rolling around on the ground, many being stepped on by passersby.   Donna got down on her hands and knees desperately trying to scoop up as many as she could along with the owner of the stand.    
  
 _For fuck’s sake!  Disaster follows that girl everywhere.  Wanda’s doubts may not be so unfounded after all.  If she gets together with Ben, the odds seem fairly good that she might accidentally maim or kill him before their first anniversary._  
  
Timothy quickly snapped a photo of the debacle, while his order was being packed up and emailed it to Wanda with a note:  
  
 **‘Are we sure we want her for a daughter-in-law?’**

  
  
  
*************************************************************

  
  
Emily Peacock checked off the items on her uncle’s shopping list as she quickly made her way through Parliament Hill Farmers Market.    
  
 _This was an absolutely genius idea!  I’ve got the food for the picnic, and I’m just about done with Uncle Ben’s list.  I just have to get some cherry tomatoes, and I’m done!_  
  
Emily looked around, and her attention was drawn to the colourful sign for the Tomato Stall, advertising their organic heirloom tomatoes.  
  
 _That sounds like the type of stand Uncle Ben would patronize.  I’ll pop over there and see what they have to offer._  
  
As Emily neared the stand, she noticed there had apparently been a mishap that she had just missed.  Several bystanders were still gathered around watching the aftermath of what appeared to be a calamity affecting the cherry tomato display, which was now empty.  There was a pretty, dark-haired woman and middle-aged man down on the pavement frantically scooping up cherry tomatoes and putting them back into the display basket. Emily could see that quite a few of the tomatoes had been squashed by passerby.  
  
“I can’t tell you how sorry I am!” exclaimed the woman to the man.  “It’s totally my fault for not paying closer attention to what was going on around me.”  
  
“My poor tomatoes!” wailed the man.  “Half of them have been trampled and the others are bruised and blemished.  How in bloody hell am I supposed to sell them?”  
  
Emily moved closer for a better look and frowned.  _He’s got a point.  She really made a right mess of things.  I’d make her pay for all of them._  
  
“You can sell them at a discount as slightly overripe or imperfect,” suggested the woman.  “People love bargains.  There’s nothing wrong with them.  They can be made into a sauce or cut up for a salad.”  
  
 _Humph!  I wouldn’t want to eat tomatoes that look like that_ , thought Emily.  _The other produce stands only had large slicing tomatoes.  What am I going to bring Uncle Ben?_  
  
It was then that Emily spied a dapper-looking older man at the Pasta e Basta stand.  He was wearing a cap and sunglasses, but Emily recognized him immediately.  The man didn’t notice Emily, as he was completely absorbed in watching the drama unfold across at the Tomato Stall.  She quickly walked over to stand beside him and whispered in his ear.  
  
“Who are you spying on, Grandpa?”  Emily giggled.  “Did Gran send you out on a secret mission?”  
  
Timothy nearly dropped the bag of pasta at her words.  He turned to find Emily regarding him with a big smile.    
  
“You nearly gave me a heart attack, Emmy!” said Timothy as he quickly collected himself.  “I never expected to see you here.”  
  
“I can say the same for you,” retorted Emily.  “What’s going on?” she asked, pointing to the Tomato Stall stand.  
  
“That girl in the flowered yellow dress with the dark hair was in a hurry and her bag caught on the display basket,” said the woman from the Pasta e Basta stand.  “She was too busy chattering on her mobile and wasn’t paying attention to what she was doing and pulled down Josh’s display.”  
  
“I feel sorry for the stand owner,” said Emily.  
  
 _I feel sorry for your uncle, should he become involved with her,_ thought Timothy sadly.  _I can’t imagine my poor son going through a lifetime of accidents like this.  Now all I can do is follow this through to the end...if he ever gets his fucking arse here._  
  
“Grandpa?  Is something wrong?”  
  
“Hmmmm?”  
  
“I asked you what you’re doing here in Hampstead?  Are you and Gran shopping?  Uncle Ben didn’t say you were here.”  
  
Timothy craned his neck, looking for signs of Benedict.  
  
 _Did she say Uncle Ben?  She’s been with Benedict? Does that mean he’s here?_  
  
“Gran is back in Kensington having a day at the salon with Claire, and I came up to have breakfast with your uncle.  He always talks so much about this market that I thought I’d come have a wander through it,” replied Timothy.  “As you can see, I was impressed,” he added indicating the plastic shopping bag in his hand.  
  
Emily peeked inside the bag.  “Wow! That’s a lot of pasta and sauce, Grandpa.  Are you and Gran having a party?”  
  
Timothy felt his cheeks flush.  “No.  I’m guilty of easily succumbing to a sales pitch – especially when I get to taste what they’re pitching.”  
  
Before he realized it, Timothy had found himself gravitating closer to the Tomato Stall, so he could hear better.  Emily followed him closely.  
  
“Grandpa?”  
  
“Shhhhh!  I want to hear what they’re saying.”  
  
Emily had a horrified expression on her face.  “Grandpa!  That sounded just like Gran!”  
  
 _I’m not surprised being I’m on a secret mission for her...actually for us. I need you to be quiet, Emmy, while I hear what’s going on._  
  
Timothy quickly reached in his pocked and removed a honey-flavoured candy wrapped in gold foil and handed it to Emily.  
  
“Try this.  It’s made of blueberry honey.  Delicious,” said Timothy.  "They were giving them out at the Happy Honeybee Company."  
  
“Mmmmm,” said Emily as she sucked on the sticky candy.  
  
 _Good.  That will keep her quiet for a few minutes._

  
  
  
*************************************************************

 

  
Josh, The Tomato Stall owner, was pointing at the ruined tomatoes on the pavement, as he addressed Donna Saint James. “I can probably sell off most of them that way, but what about the ones that are squashed?  It’s not like I can shovel them up and sell them as tomato sauce.”  
  
“I’d be happy to pay you for what I ruined,” said Donna, opening her bag to remove her wallet. “After all, it was my fault.  I feel so bad.”  
  
Josh sighed as he placed the basket back on the display.    
  
“You are lucky that most of these are salvageable. I’ll take your advice and mark them down a bit and sell them as imperfect,” he said.  
  
“How much do you want?” asked Donna as she removed some notes and held them out to the man.  
  
Josh shook his head and pushed Donna’s hand away gently.  “I don’t want any money from you, since you were nice enough to offer to pay me.  Most people who knock things over, just run the other way or pretend they didn’t do it.”  
  
“Are you sure?” asked Donna in disbelief.  
  
“Yes, but just promise me that the next time you come to market, you’ll leave that bloody suitcase of yours home!”  
  
“I promise,” said Donna, as she started to walk away from the stand.  “And again, for what it’s worth, I’m truly sorry.”  
  
 _I’m so glad that’s over with!  Now, I need to find Wanda’s son.  With my luck he’s probably already seen my performance and is having a good laugh somewhere._  
  


  
*************************************************************  
  


  
Timothy Carlton watched as Donna Saint James began to walk away from the stand away from where he and Emily were standing.    
  
 _Shit!  I’ve got to follow her and now I’ve got Emmy trailing along with me. Actually, maybe that’s better. It won’t be obvious that I’m on surveillance._  
  
Timothy peeked at his mobile to see that there were several missed calls from Wanda, but thankfully no messages.  
  
“Are you looking for anything in particular, Emmy?  You look like you’ve got that basket filled to the brim,” observed Timothy as he led her in the direction Donna had gone.  
  
“Half of it’s mine, including the basket which I just bought.  I’m meeting my date on the Heath for a picnic in a little while. The rest of it is Uncle Ben’s stuff. I just need one more thing for him, and I’m done.  Cherry tomatoes, but I think I’m bang out of luck thanks to that crazy girl!” she laughed.  
  
Timothy furrowed his brown. “So, are you here with Benedict then?  He didn’t mention that he was meeting up with you.”  
  
Emily laughed.  “No way!  He’s not here! Your son’s sitting all nice and comfy in a cafe on the High Street enjoying a double latte with his friend, Dee, while I do his shopping.”  
  
 _Dee?  Ben has a friend named Dee?  Since when?   He’s never mentioned anyone named Dee before that I can recall._  
  
“Funny, he’s never mentioned a friend named Dee that I can remember,” mused Timothy.  “Have you, Emmy?”  
  
“Nope.  He just said she was a friend and changed the subject.”  
  
“I’m still trying to understand how you came to do his shopping for him.”  
  
“Well, like I told you before, I’m meeting this guy for a picnic and volunteered to bring the food.  I figured it was easier to buy the food in Hampstead rather then carry a picnic hamper around on the tube.”  
  
“That’s sensible,” commented Timothy with a nod of approval.  “Especially in this hot weather we’re having.”  
  
“I called Uncle Ben to ask where the best place would be to buy picnic fixings and to make a long story short....”  
  
 _No such thing in this family as a short story._  
  
“....he brought up the fact that I owe him a favour after what happened the other night with Heather and the concert.”  
  
“Oh.  I see.  What kind of favour?”  
  
Emily grimaced.  “I actually prefer to think of it as my penance, Grandpa. He was in such a mood that night of the concert that in order to pacify him....”  
  
 _She means in order to shut him the hell up,_ thought Timothy.  
  
“....and make amends for what happened, I offered to do chores or errands for him.”  
  
 _That explains why Benedict sounded a bit hoarse the next day.  I could imagine him shouting at her over the mobile._  
  
“I’m afraid to ask what he came up with as _fair_ penance,” mused Timothy.  
  
“It’s okay, Grandpa.  I deserved it. I had no right to send Heather without asking his permission.  Anyway, he decided I could come over and clean his flat or wash his car and motorbike to make it up to him.”  
  
 _I definitely would clean the motorbike and car.  The mess in his flat is too overwhelming._  
  
“Anyway, from what I can make of it after doing some thinking....”  
  
 _Christ on a crutch!  They all think too bloody much in this family! Definitely has to be the Ventham genes._  
  
“...and I think he bumped into this friend of his and really wanted to hang out with her,” continued Emily.  
  
 _Sounds entirely plausible to me. I could see Ben trying to scheme his way out of errands in favour of a catch up with a friend...IF she’s just a friend._  
  
“Uncle Ben apparently had a lot of errands to run and when I just happened to call, he decided to seize the opportunity and call in the favour by asking me to do his shopping for him while he had a coffee with this girl.”  
  
 _Sounds exactly like something Benedict would do, bless him. Then he’ll go home and run around like a chicken without a head because he left everything for the last minute.  I hope his date doesn’t mind eating her dinner at  midnight_.  
  
“It certainly sounded better than cleaning his flat or washing his car and motorbike; so I agreed, and he emailed me a photo of his shopping list.”  
  
“I’ve been in his flat recently, so I’m going to have to agree with you. I wouldn’t want to clean up that mess either,” said Timothy with a laugh.  
  
Emily held up her mobile, so Timothy could see the photo of the very shopping list he had found in Benedict’s market basket earlier.  
  
 “See?  I got it all except the tomatoes, and he told me to ignore the stuff on the bottom,” she giggled, pointing out the condoms and lube. “I would have died if I had to get those for him.  That comes under the category of too much information.”  
  
 _Ben’s ‘good taste’ filter apparently is malfunctioning today.  His fool head must be in the clouds over this woman he’s fallen for._  
  
“All he had to do was adjust the camera a bit, and you never would have seen the bottom of his list,” commented Timothy, shaking his head. “I suppose that means he feels comfortable around you, Emmy; and doesn’t feel the need to hide these things.”  
  
 _Hmmmm...Benedict has a friend named Dee.  Dee begins with a ‘D’. Adam inadvertently slipped that the girl Ben met at Barbecoa’s name begins with a ‘D’. Ben confirmed that when he almost slipped at breakfast.  Sounds to me like I may have found the girl from Barbecoa, and it’s not Donna Saint James._  
  
“I need to find a stand that sells tomatoes so I can get going, Grandpa,” said Emily.  “Do you see any?  All I see are those large slicing ones.”  
  
Timothy smiled at his granddaughter.  “I’ve got an idea. Let’s go back to the Tomato Stall and see about some of those ‘special’ cherry tomatoes that are marked down.  Your uncle loves nothing more than a bargain.  He takes after your Gran that way, bless them both.”  
  
Emily laughed.  “Sounds like a good idea to me.”  
  
Ten minutes later Emily had a basket of sale-priced cherry tomatoes in the market basket.  She placed a call to Benedict on her mobile.  
  
“Don’t tell him I’m here,” whispered Timothy, placing his index finger over his lips.  “Then he’ll be angry that I didn’t suggest we go together.  You know how stropy and temperamental he can get sometimes.”  
   
Emily nodded and waited for Benedict to answer his mobile.  
  
“Hi!  I’ve got everything on your list.  Where do you want to meet?”  
  
Timothy stood quietly as she listened to Benedict’s response.  
   
Emily nodded.  “Alright.  I’ll see you soon!”  
  
“So, where are you meeting?” asked Timothy nonchalantly.  
  
“He wants me to meet him at the entrance to the Heath where I need to be at. It was close to where he was having coffee with his friend. They decided to have lunch and are just finishing up. What are your plans, Grandpa?”  
  
 _Well, there’s no need for me to stay here now.  Benedict isn’t coming, so Operation Parliament Hill Market has failed after all that meticulous planning on Wanda’s part. She’s going to be crushed. However, on the bright side, if this Dee turns out to be the one, she’ll forget all about Donna Saint James in a day or two. I hope._  
  
“I’m going to bring all this food home, then I’m playing cards at the Garick Club. I’ve got to go in that direction to the tube station, so I’ll walk with you part of the way and keep you company.”  
  
 _Then I’ll double back and hopefully get a look at the girl and take some photos to send Wanda._  
  
“I’m just going to duck in and use the loo before we leave, Grandpa.  I’ll just be a few minutes.  It’s over there,” Emily pointed to a brick building, which housed outdoor bogs.    
  
“I’ll be right here,” said Timothy pointing to a bench in the shade.    
  
Timothy put his bags on the ground, then sat on the bench and pulled out a bottle of cold water he had purchased.  The water felt good going down Timothy’s dry throat.  
  
 _It sure is hot as blazes today. I’ll sit here in the shade, sip my water and watch the world go by while I wait for Emmy.  Too bad the entertainment is over for today._  
  
What Timothy Carlton didn't know was that the entertainment was far from over  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. The name of the food stands are actual food stands at Parliament Hill Farmers Market, which I have never been to. I don’t know what the layout is of the market, so I made it up. I also don’t know the name of the owner of the Tomato Stall. Josh is a totally fictitious character. 
> 
> 2\. I have never been to Hampstead, so I’m not familiar with the layout of the village. 
> 
> 3\. Denise Black is the actress who went diving with Benedict when they were car-jacked in South Africa during the filming of To the Ends of the Earth. I have no idea if she uses the nickname “Dee”, but for the purpose of this story, she will.


	52. Chapter 52

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Operation Parliament Hill - Part Two: The master plan is finally executed. Adam has an epiphany. Timothy reports back to Wanda and Una, then has second thoughts.
> 
> Note: There is a lot of switchback to show events happening at the same time, so I’m using ****** again.

Donna Saint James glanced at her watch again and sighed.  
  
 _It’s almost one and no sign of Wanda’s son. I must keep missing him.  I’ve done three complete circuits of the market, tasted everything there is to taste at least twice and wound up shopping for myself.  The more I think about it, the more I’m not so sure I want to go through with this accidental meeting._  
  
Donna suddenly realized that she had not bought anything to bring over to Benedict’s house that night.  
  
 _I think I’ll go back to that vineyard stand that was selling the wine.  I don’t actually know what type of wine Benedict prefers.  He always orders whatever I do or asks the server to recommend something.  I have a feeling he doesn’t know much about wines._  
  
Donna arrived at the Frithsden Vineyard stand.  Frithsden was a boutique English vineyard, and Donna spent five minutes tasting their small selection of three wines.  She decided on the dry rose with a note of strawberry and cream.  
  
 _This should go well with whatever Benedict’s making,_ she thought. _I think I’ll make a final stop at the Flour Station on my way out and get some of those special blueberry sticky buns. The more I think about it, the more I don’t think I want to go through with Wanda’s plan after all.  I don’t have any interest in her son since I met Benedict. Why should I go through this sham of bumping into him, when I have no intention of ever dating him? I’ve got to stop feeling guilty just because Wanda is so nice.  Things changed between the time I answered the ad, and she finally got her act together._

Donna placed the gold foil-wrapped bottle into her shopping bag and put her change inside her wallet. As she made her way back through the market, she paused to buy a squeeze bottle shaped like a teddy bear that held raspberry honey.   
  
 _When I get home, I’ll give Wanda a call and tell her I changed my mind and decided not to follow through on her plan. I’ll simply explain that I met someone in the interim that I want to be with.  Then I can get ready for my return trip tonight.  Maybe I’ll try and get out early and surprise Benedict.  In the meantime I’d better call Carly back and apologize for dropping her like that before._  
  
Donna Saint James slung her handbag over her shoulder and removed her cellphone so she could call her sister back.  She moved quickly towards the Flour Station stand with her head down as she pushed the number for Carly, oblivious as to what was going on around her.  
  
  
*************************************************************  
  
  
Adam Ackland was making his way through the Parliament Hill Farmers Market at record speed, hoping to get home before lunch.  He was engrossed in crossing the items he had bought off the list his wife, Alice, had given him.  
  
 _Let’s see. I got the fresh herbs, raspberry jam, eggs, pear juice, basil olive oil, sherry vinegar, streaky bacon.  Alice wants two large baskets of the tomatoes from the Tomato Stall – hmmm...she notes they don’t have to be perfect, blemishes are fine.  I guess she wants to make sauce out of them.  I’d better hurry because they always sell out before the market closes._    
  
Adam quickly rounded the corner where he and another shopper collided at full force.  The other shopper turned out to be a petite young woman, about his age, who had been knocked off her feet.  Luckily, Adam was able to keep his balance.  However, he had lost his grip on his market basket, which fell to the pavement.  He watched as it hit the ground, contents scattering all over.    
  
 _Fuck that!  I just hope the girl isn’t hurt!_  
  
“I’m so, so sorry!  Are you alright, Miss?” Adam asked, squatting down beside the surprised woman, who was lying flat on her back.     
  
‘I...I...think.... so,” gasped the woman as she gingerly shifted on the pavement and tried to regain her normal breathing pattern.    
  
“Jesus! Why didn’t I look where I was going? I’m such a fuckwit,” Adam exclaimed as he took the woman’s small hand in his and rubbed her wrist. “Shall I call for a medic?”  
  
The woman blinked and shook her head.  
  
“I’m fine,” she gasped.  
  
“Here, Mate.  She’s had the wind knocked out of her is all.  You’re a big strapping lad, compared to her.  She’ll be fine.  Just give her some room,” said the man who owned the nearby juice stand.  
  
“I should have been watching where I was going,” lamented Adam.  “Can you sit up?”  The woman nodded, and he helped her into a sitting position.  
  
“Here. Let her drink this,” said the juice dealer as he handed Adam a cup of cold apple cherry juice that his wife had gotten him from their stand.  
  
“Thanks,” said Adam, accepting the cup.  He held it against the woman’s lips.  “Here, Miss.  Take a sip, it’ll make you feel better.”  
  
  
*************************************************************  
  
  
Donna felt as if she’d been hit by a truck. The tall, blond-haired man was built solidly and knocked all the wind out of her.  She allowed him to help her sit up and was thankful she hadn’t been hurt. It took a couple of minutes before her head cleared. The man held onto Donna’s hand and gently rubbed her wrist in an attempt to comfort her.  She was aware of him talking to another man and some people standing around them.    
  
“Here Miss.  Take a sip, it’ll make you feel better,” came his soft voice, as a paper cup was held against her lips.  
  
Donna took a sip of the cold juice as she took her first good look at the man who had knocked her over.  She immediately recognized him from the photo Wanda had emailed her, not to mention the day she had seen him in person in Paternoster Square.  
  
It was Ben Ventham.  
  
 _It’s him!  It’s Wanda’s son!  It’s Ben Ventham!_  
  
  
*************************************************************  
  
  
Timothy Carlton sat on the bench and watched in utter disbelief as Donna Saint James and Adam Ackland came at each other from different directions to collide almost right in front of him.  Thankfully, the bench was situated far back enough on the grass not to be noticed by either of them.  
  
 _For fuck’s sake!  This was supposed to happen with Benedict, not his best friend!_  
  
Timothy took a photo and sent it to Wanda with the caption:  
  
 **“Operation Parliament Hill goes off with only one glitch:  She bumped into the wrong man.”**  
  
  
*************************************************************  
  
  
Adam held the cup while the woman gratefully sipped the ice-cold juice. He also noticed that she was staring at him, hazel-eyes wide.  It was almost as if she recognized him from somewhere.  There was something familiar about her, but Adam didn’t know what.    
  
 _Why is she looking at me like that? Does she know me from somewhere?  Maybe we worked on a film together. More likely she’s in shock._  
  
“Don’t drink it down all at once.  You’ll get a brain freeze from the cold,” said Adam, as he took the cup away.  “I am so, so sorry.”  
  
The woman kept starting at him and nodded her head as she swallowed.  She had shoulder-length chestnut brown hair and large, hazel eyes framed by slightly shaggy fringe across her forehead.    
  
“How are you feeling?”  
  
The woman finally stopped staring, as if she caught herself and smiled at him.    
  
“A bit winded.  Thank you for the juice.”  
  
“Please.  It’s the least I can do!” Adam said.  “This is entirely my fault for not watching where I was going.  I was too busy crossing things off my shopping list and didn’t see you coming.  Please accept my apology.”  
  
The woman touched his arm.  “Oh, no!  I can’t allow you to take all the blame.  I’m just as guilty of not watching where I was going.  I was too wrapped up in making a phone call and didn’t see you.”  
  
“I suppose we’ve arrived at a truce then,” smiled Adam.  
  
“Yes.  A jury would find us both guilty of not paying attention,” chimed in the woman, as she returned his smile.  
  
Adam and the woman regarded each other and started to laugh.  

  
  
  
*************************************************************  
  
  
“Do you think you can stand?” Ben Ventham asked Donna tentatively, as he stood up and extended his hand to her.  
  
 _Holy cow!  I can’t believe this happened!  I never expected in a million years that I would literally bump into Ben Ventham by accident.  This could not have gone more smoothly had I planned it.  Wanda would be so pleased had she been her to witness her plan come to fruition._  
  
“Yeah.  I’m feeling much better,” replied Donna, taking his hand and giving him a warm smile.  
  
 _He’s very tall.  I’d say he’s an inch or two taller than Benedict. His hair is very full and thick.  Wow!  Look at those bright blue eyes of his.  He’s even better looking in person.  His photo did not do him justice.  He also seems very kind and concerned.  Now what do I do being fate seemed to intervene here?  Do I continue with the plan?_  
  
  
*************************************************  
  
  
Adam let the woman’s hand go and tried to casually look her over without getting caught.  
  
 _She’s very cute. Nice body. Especially the legs and perky tits. I really like her smile. She seems like she would be very open and friendly.  Too bad I’m a married man or this would be a perfect opportunity to pick her up. This is the type of thing that should happen to Benedict._  
  
Adam suddenly felt himself blush like he hadn’t done since the day he came across Alice while she was decorating the set of _The Last Enemy_ and began flirting shamelessly with him.  
  
  _Is it my imagination or is this girl trying to flirt with me? I’m so out of practice.  I need to stop fantasizing and pick up my stuff and go home._  
  
  
************************************************************  
  
  
Timothy continued to watch the drama unfold before him for the second time that day.  
  
 _Why, for fuck’s sake!  Have I gone completely nutters or are they flirting with each other?  He’s a married man with a baby!  Where’s his wedding ring?  Adam always wears a ring._  
  
  
*************************************************************  
  
Donna looked down to see what had become of the contents of her shopping bag. Some of the items had rolled out and were scattered about the pavement among those of Ben Ventham, including the bottle of wine she had bought for Benedict.  
  
 _Hmmm...Mr. Ventham was just checking me over.  Why do men think we don’t notice them doing the once over?  Does he think I’m blind?  Benedict did the same thing to me this morning...only I liked it when he did it.  God, I wish Benedict were here._  
  
  
************************************************************  
  
  
Adam surveyed the mess around him.  The eggs had come out of their carton and were smashed.  The jar of jam and the pear juice bottle were intact, as well as the bacon and herbs. However, the bottles of olive oil and sherry vinegar had broken and their contents were merrily co-mingling in a small pool on the ground.  
  
“Looks like I’ve got ready-made salad dressing,” Adam joked as he pointed to the mess on the ground.  “All I need to do is add some lettuce.”  
  
“Let me pay you for what you lost,” offered the woman, as she began to open her handbag.  “I feel responsible.”  
  
Adam held up his hand.  “I wouldn’t hear of it.  It was just as much my fault as it was yours – probably even more so mine.  Looks like you were lucky. I don’t see any of your provisions damaged.”  
  
The woman knelt down and began to gather up her items. Adam bent down and held open her shopping bag, so she could refill it.  Afterwards she helped him in turn with his.  They chatted a bit about the market as they cleaned up the mess on the pavement. Finally, they were done.  
  
“Oh, wait.  I just found one last item,” said Ben Ventham as he held out the bottle of wine to the woman.  
  
“Thank you,” the woman said, batting her eyelashes at him.  She leaned a bit closer and smiled up at him, while looking deep into his eyes.  
  
 _Christ!  She really is flirting with me!  I’m really flattered.  I guess women still find me attractive.  Alice is going to be so jealous when I tell her later,_ mused Adam to himself _.  I’ll make sure to embellish the story just a bit. That’s bound to get me some extra special lovin’ tonight._  
  
  
*************************************************************  
  
  
Donna did a quick inventory of the items in her shopping bag.  Everything was there.    
  
“Thank you,” she said to Ben Ventham, as she took the last item from him, which was the bottle of wine.  She gave him a warm smile and gazed into his blue eyes.  
  
 _Okay, Donna.  You have now arrived at a crossroads and need to make a decision.  It is obvious that he’s not going to ask you out – even though he seems interested. He keeps watching me from under his eyes.  Wanda was right. He’s very handsome, and he seems nice enough.  Gentle and kind with a nice sense of humor from the little time I’ve spent with him. There’s a small part of me that wouldn’t mind sitting down and getting to know him...as a friend.  The question is do I want to pursue this to the end and ask him to have a cup of coffee with me? This way I can fulfill my obligation to Wanda completely.  I wish this hadn’t happened._  
  
Donna looked at the bottle of wine and immediately a mental image of Benedict cooking dinner for her came to mind.  She smiled to herself as the thought of how much she enjoyed being with him.  
  
 _Sorry, Wanda.  The problem is that no matter how nice your son seems, I just don’t want to date him.  The man I want is busy cooking me dinner tonight in his flat; and truth be told, I can’t wait to see him again.  The plan was for me to bump into your son at the market – well I did!  It could not have gone any better had I planned it.  However, there was no chemistry – I didn’t feel what I felt when I first met Benedict – even though we had a rocky start, there was something electric about it.  He makes me tingle with anticipation.  I want to be in a committed relationship with him....because I think I’m in love with him._  
  
Donna smiled one last time at Ben Ventham.  “Well, that’s everything.  Again, I’m sorry for my part in this.  It’ll teach me to look where I’m going.”  
  
Ben Ventham returned the smile and nodded.  “I’m glad you weren’t hurt, and also apologize for dashing around like a madman and not paying better attention to my surroundings.”  
  
  
***********************************************************  
  
  
“Ready to go, Grandpa?” asked Emily as she approached the bench.  
  
“More than,” sighed Timothy disgustedly.  “I’ve had enough of this market.”  
  
 _And Donna Saint James.  She’s here to meet Benedict and winds up flirting with a married man.  Well, she wouldn’t know he’s married, but still...she was here specifically to meet Benedict and instead flirts with a stranger? Not to mention she may also still be seeing James Rhodes?  How many men can this woman have at once? It’s that damn open dating crap.  I don’t know if I like this._  
  
  
************************************************************  
   
  
Adam picked up his market basket.  “I’d better get going so I can replace the broken items before the market closes.  I’m glad there are no hard feelings.”  
  
“Not at all,” replied the woman.  
  
“Take care and have a nice afternoon then!” said Adam Ackland giving her a jaunty wave as he turned and walked away, feeling awfully chuffed that a cute girl had flirted with him for a bit that afternoon.     
  
  
*************************************************************  
  
“You, too!” said Donna Saint James as she watched Ben Ventham head off to the Tomato Stall.     
  
Donna smiled to herself as she headed to the Flour Station stand. As soon as she bought the buns, she would leave the market and go to the Hampstead tube station.  
  
 _As far as I’m concerned, I fulfilled my commitment to Wanda.  I went to the market and literally bumped into her son as planned.  I’ll call her when I get home and break the news.  Maybe had I not gone to Barbecoa that night, things would have worked out differently; but they didn’t.  In the interim a wonderful man named Benedict Cumberbatch came between me and Ben Ventham – and that’s just fine with me!_  
  
  
************************************************************  
  
  
Timothy Carlton stood in a book shop that was located across the street from the entrance to Hampstead Heath where Emily was to meet Benedict.   He made sure to stand back from the window so as not to be seen by his granddaughter or son, pretending to read a book on roof terrace gardening.  
  
 _I’m really glad I’m not a spy.  This covert surveillance is hard work on the legs and back,_ thought Timothy.  _Well, at least Wanda won’t have to cook for a few days._  
  
Emily kept glancing down the street and checking her watch.  She was tapping her foot in annoyance and frowning.  A few minutes later, she was joined by a young man of medium height with dark curly hair and a goatee.  
  
 _Ah, that must be the hot hunk she’s having the picnic with,_ mused Timothy.  
  
Timothy’s mobile began to ring. It was Wanda.  
  
 _Serves me right for turning it back on._  
  
“Commander? Is that you? Are you on a secure line this time?”  
  
 _“What in the hell is going on?  I’ve been trying to call you.  I can’t believe she ran into Adam Ackland of all people?  It was supposed to be Benedict, not his best friend!”_  
  
Timothy quickly snapped a photo and emailed it to Wanda.  
  
“Incoming photo, Commander.”  
  
 _“Is it Ben and Donna?”_ Wanda asked excitedly.  
  
“Not quite.”  
  
There were a few seconds of silence.  
  
 _“You sent me a photo of Emmy and some boy.”_  
  
“That’s the hot hunk she’s having a picnic with today.  Why don’t you forward it to Tracy in case she hasn’t met the boy?”  
  
Timothy looked up to see Benedict coming down the street.  There was a brown-haired woman walking beside him, and they were talking animatedly.  
  
“Got to sign off, Commander.  Incoming son at three o’clock. More later.”  
  
Timothy rang off before Wanda could reply as he watched Benedict saunter down the street as if he had all the time in the world.  
  
 _This must be his ‘friend’ Dee.  I’ll snap a photo when they get closer._  
  
Timothy readied his mobile to take the photo, but Benedict and the woman suddenly stopped at the corner. Benedict leaned down, and they exchanged kisses.  Then they embraced and the woman crossed the street, heading off in a different direction from Benedict.  Timothy quickly took a few photos.  
  
 _Damn!  This day just can’t get any worse, can it?_  
  
He looked at the photos but could not make out the woman’s face clearly.    
  
 _I can’t tell if he’s kissing her on the lips or not.  I hope I can download and enlarge them once I get home._  
  
Timothy sent Wanda one of the photos with the caption:  
  
 **‘You son and the bird I believe is from Barbecoa – needs work’**  
  
Benedict approached Emily and shook hands with her companion.  He loaded his food into his market basket and paid Emily what he owed her.  The he hugged her goodbye and headed back in the direction he had come from.  Emily and her date disappeared into the Heath entrance, holding hands.  Timothy took another photo.  
  
 _Well, Timothy, it’s time to get a sarnie before I return to base and report  to the Commander that Operation Parliament Hill appears to have been a failure._  
  
  
*************************************************************  
  
  
Benedict Cumberbatch hurried up the street towards his flat, market basket over his arm.  He noted that the temperature had gone up quite substantially from earlier in the day as he felt the perspiration forming on his forehead.  
  
 _Shit!  Why did I stay so long chatting with Dee?  I’ve go so much crap to do at home!   Well, at least all the food’s bought. I don’t recall the weather  forecaster saying it was going to be this blazing hot today.  It’s going to be like a furnace in the flat after I get done cooking that chicken. I hope I ordered a big enough one.  Seems awfully light._  
  
Benedict stopped to look through his basket.  He moved everything around as he suddenly visualized when Emily brought his food.  The basket had been empty when he started to fill it.  Empty.  
  
 _No wonder the basket feels so light!  I forgot to pick up the motherfucking chicken!  Fuckity, fuck, fuck!_  
  
Benedict turned and headed off in the direction of the butcher as fast as he could, silently berating himself on the way. As he passed the school playground where the Parliament Hill Farmers Market was held, he spied Donna Saint James walking out of the schoolyard and back towards the village.    
  
“Donna!” he shouted.  “Wait up!”  
  
Donna turned and broke out into a huge grin as she ran towards him and threw herself into his arms, hugging him with all her might.  Benedict was slightly taken aback, yet pleasantly surprised at her public display of affection.  
  
“How lucky am I to see my favorite man twice in one day?” she asked as she hugged him tightly.  
  
“Am I your favorite man?” asked Benedict shyly with a raised eyebrow, as they parted.  
  
“Absolutely.  My one and only,” replied Donna.  “Don’t I get a kiss?”  
  
Benedict hugged her tight.  He had butterflies in his stomach, and he felt almost lightheaded at her words. He leaned down and whispered in her ear as he prepared to kiss her.  
  
“You can have as many kisses as you want, but I warn you that it may be hard to stop me once I start to snog you.”  
  
“I’m willing to take that chance.”  
  
“Why don’t we move out of the way of the other pedestrians then?” said Benedict as he led her off to the side under a large shade tree, where they shared three gentle kisses.  
  
“You didn’t say you were going to the market,” he said, indicating her plastic shopping bag that sat on the pavement beside his market basket.  
  
“Neither did you!”  
  
“I didn’t go.  Let’s just say I had a shopping service – otherwise known as my niece, Emily -  pick up some of the things I needed,” said Benedict with a sly smile.  
  
“Emily.  Is that the niece who set you up with Heather Tuesday night without telling you?”  
  
Benedict nodded as he picked up the basket.  “That’s the one.  We decided that doing my shopping was a fair payback for my having to put up with Heather.”  
  
“So, is this my dinner?” Donna asked as she surveyed the contents of his basket.  
  
 _Oh, fuck.  Don’t let her open the Super Drug bag.  She’ll see the condoms and lube._  
  
“Erm...yes.  Most of it is.”  
  
“You looked rattled, Benedict.”  
  
 _If you had any idea how much I have to do, you’d be rattled too. I need to remain calm._  
  
“You rattle me...in a good way,” he said stroking her cheek tenderly with his thumb.  “Where are you headed?”  
  
“The tube.  One can’t go into that market without buying, so I’ve got to get all this home before it spoils.  Then I need to make a phone call and get ready for tonight.”  
  
“I’ll walk with you part of the way,” he said.  “I’ve got to pick up our main from the butcher or we’ll be having a tin of tuna for dinner.”  
  
  
*************************************************************  
  
  
Timothy Carlton rang off from a quick conversation with his friend, Louis, whom he was going to meet at the Garick Club.  Timothy decided that he was exhausted from such an exciting day and preferred to go home and report to Wanda.  After making another card date with Louis, Timothy placed his mobile in his pocket and took out his oyster card, as he was just about at the Hampstead tube station.  
  
 _I’d better top this off before I catch the train,_ thought Timothy, as he took out his wallet and removed a ten pound note.  
  
All of sudden, Timothy saw Benedict walking alongside Donna Saint James across the road.  They were talking and laughing.  Benedict had his market basket, and Donna still had her plastic shopping bag.  
  
 _What the fuck?  Am I seeing things?  Is that Donna Saint James walking with Benedict?  Jesus, Wanda won’t believe it!  I’m not so sure I believe it!_  
  
Timothy quickly took out his mobile and snapped a photo of the couple.  He sent it to Wanda with the caption:  
  
 **‘Miracles Do Happen – Operation Parliament Hill is a Success After All’**  
  
Benedict smiled at Donna, and they waved to each other as they parted ways across the street from Timothy.  Donna looked both ways before crossing the street. She appeared to be headed to the tube station.  Benedict was heading in the direction of his flat. Timothy quickly ducked into the tube station and managed to get the lift down to the track level without being spotted.  His luck held out as a train rumbled into the station as soon as he stepped out onto the platform.  Timothy sighed with relief that not only had he managed not to be seen by Donna Saint James, but he also was able to get a seat for the ride into London.  
  
 _Christ on a Crutch!   Apparently, she and Ben have somehow managed to meet. Miss Saint James is quite the little flirt.  Do Wanda and I really want someone like that for our Ben?  The only problem is, our friend Fate has finally brought them together._  
  
  
*************************************************************  
  
  
Alice and Adam Ackland sat on the grass under a shade tree in their garden while their infant son napped beside them in his play pen.  Adam had just finished telling Alice what had happened to him in the market.  
  
“You certainly had an exciting day, Love,” she laughed.   “Actually, you’ve had an exciting week.”  
  
Adam sipped some freshly squeezed lemonade. He liked how his wife always dipped the rims of the glasses in sugar. It added an extra element of sweetness to the tartness of the drink.

“You’re going to miss my stories, while I’m on location.”  
  
Alice twirled her blonde ponytail around her finger.  Then she leaned over the playpen to check that Jonathan wasn't sweating.

“Oh, don’t remind me!  Hopefully, all will go smoothly; and you’ll be home before we really begin to miss you.”  
  
“It will only be for two weeks, then we’re back to the studio closer to home.”  
  
“Then back out again for another location shoot,”  Alice added with a frown.  
  
“Hey!  I’ve got an idea! Why don’t you come with me?” Adam asked excitedly.  “Jon’s very portable at this stage, and there’s a pool at the hotel we’ll be staying at - not to mention central air con.”  
  
Alice sat quietly, pondering her husband’s offer.  The weather had turned unexpectedly hotter and more humid than the norm.  They were relying on two portable air con units to keep the bedrooms bearable at night.  
  
“Benedict will also be in the vicinity, filming Miss Marple about an hour’s drive away.  We can surprise him on his birthday.  We’ll take Wanda and Granddad with us and take him out to lunch or dinner. I’ll have to find out his filming schedule and where he’s going to be staying.  We can book a room with a cot for the night.  I’m sure something can be coordinated.”  
  
“That’s bloody brilliant, Adam!  I like this idea of yours – it’s the second best one you’ve ever had.”  
  
Adam blinked as he was taken aback.

“And what was the first?”  
  
Alice cast a loving glance to their baby boy.  “To have him,” she replied with a wink.  “I’m going to call my mother and tell her.  Why don’t you bring Jon inside and tuck him into his cot.  Then you can meet me up in the bedroom?”  
  
“Don’t tell me you’re going to start packing a week ahead of time?”  
  
“Not at all.  I want to inspect your body for bruises.  Who knows what that crazy girl could have done to you.”  
  
Adam sat back in his lounge chair and watched his son peacefully sleeping. He loved sitting in the back garden on a summer day with a cold drink, the heavy perfume of the flowers filling the air.  It was starting to get hotter, so he finished his lemonade and prepared to go inside when a thought hit him.  
  
 _Shit!  Now I know what was familiar about the girl in the market.  It was the same clumsy cow who dragged the sign outside of the sandwich shop in Paternoster Square!_  
  
Adam gently picked up his sleeping son and headed into the house.  
  
“Ally!  You’re not going to believe this.....”  
  
  
*************************************************************  
  
  
Wanda Ventham was pacing back and forth in the lounge of her Kensington flat while her friend, Una Stubbs, sat on the couch sipping from a cup of Lady Grey tea.    
  
“Wanda, you’re going to wear out the carpeting with all that pacing about.  It’s not going to bring Timothy home any sooner,” scolded Una, as she selected a chocolate wafer from the biscuit plate and took a dainty bite.  
  
“I know, but I just can’t sit still with the knowledge that the plan actually worked!”  
  
“You just have to put your trust in fate, Love.”  
  
Wanda pushed her sleeves up over her elbows.  “Well, things weren’t looking too encouraging earlier in the day; but now....I just can’t wait for him to come through that door!”  
  
“It shouldn’t be too much longer,” said Una.  “He left Hampstead over half an hour ago.”  
  
“The trains don’t run as frequently on weekends.  I bet he was delayed waiting at Tottenham Court Road,” said Wanda as she sat down beside her friend and refilled their cups.  “We always wind up waiting there it seems.”  
  
“I can’t tell you how I appreciate your keeping me company, Una,” said Wanda, patting her friend’s hand.    
  
Una laughed.  “I’m just glad you thought to invite me to see how things went down.  I do have a vested interest, too, you know.  I helped you write that ad!”

"That's why I wouldn't dream of not having you here for the finale. You're as much a part of this plan as Tim and I."  
  
The intercom buzzer for the front door sounded.  Wanda was up and across the room to the foyer in a flash.  She pressed the button to speak.  
  
“Yes?”  
  
 _“Corporal Cumberbatch returning to base, Commander,_ ” came Timothy’s voice.  _“Request clearance to enter for debriefing.”_  
  
Wanda buzzed the button to unlock the downstairs door.  “Very funny!”  
  
She opened the door to the hallway and waited for the lift to arrive.  The door slipped open to reveal Timothy holding two huge shopping bags, one in each hand.  
  
“Hells bells!  What’s in those bags?”  
  
Timothy laughed as he entered the flat.  “Wait until you see.  You won’t have to cook all week.”  
  
“Una!  What a nice surprise!” Timothy exclaimed as he crossed the lounge to give Una a hug and kiss.  “Here for the debriefing, yes?”  
  
Una nodded and giggled.  “Wouldn’t miss it for the world, Corporal.”  
  
Timothy placed the bags on the dining room table and began to unpack his purchases:  
  
“Two boxes of handmade gnocchi – this was a two for one.  I know how you can’t pass up a good bargain.  Pesto sauce, vodka sauce, pork ragu sauce, beetroot tagliatelle, squid ink fettuccine and ricotta cheese ravioli.”  
  
“I’ll say I won’t have to cook for a week!” exclaimed Wanda.  “It’ll be Italian Week at the Cumberbatches.”  
  
“I’m not done,” said Timothy.  “We also have asparagus and fontina ravioli, hot and sweet Italian sausages, strawberries, Chelsea buns, eccles cake, an apple raspberry pie, chicken liver pate, whole grain baguette, brie, stilton and heirloom tomato jam – I had asked you about the jam, but you chose to ignore me.”  
  
“I’ve been to that pasta stand.  Their pasta and sauces are first-rate,” said Una.  
  
“How about staying for dinner and help us eat some of this then?” asked Wanda.  
  
“I’m always up for Italian,” replied Una, clapping her hands together.  “Provided you let me help.”  
  
Timothy looked at Wanda.  “I’m going to download my photos onto the computer so we can take a better look while you’re putting all that away,” he said.    
  
Una poured Timothy a cup of tea and brought it over to him, along with a couple of custard tarts.  “This will fortify you for the debriefing, Corporal,” she joked.  
  
 _And when I’m done, I’ll need a good, stiff gin,_ thought Timothy.  
  
  
  
  
  
“.....And after all that, as I was about to go into the tube station - just when I thought things were hopeless -  who do I see strolling towards me on the opposite side of the street,  but Benedict and Donna.  Talking and laughing.  They parted at the corner, so the photo I took isn’t the best.”  
  
“The important thing is they somehow managed to meet each other,” added Una gleefully as she set down her teacup. "Well done them!"  
  
Timothy had spent the last hour regaling his wife and Una with the story of his day in Hampstead.   The two women had proven to be an attentive audience and hung onto his every word.  Timothy picked up his cup of tea from the coffee table and drained it.  He smacked his lips and bowed to Wanda.  
  
“Debriefing complete, Commander.”  
  
Una shook her head.  “Your hand-picked bird certainly attracts trouble.” She began to giggle.  “Just think....all those tomatoes rolling all over the ground like that!”  
  
The three exchanged looks and burst out laughing.  
  
“I really can imagine it!” exclaimed Wanda, holding her sides.  “Oh, Una, I wish you could have been at the Orangery the day I interviewed her.  And then the other day in Paternoster Square when she dragged the sign until it got stuck in the doorway of the shop.  I never laughed so much.  Such clumsiness like I’ve never seen in all my years!”  
  
Una snorted.  “Oh, I can very well picture it all.”  
  
“No you can’t.  You really needed to be there to appreciate it,” insisted Timothy, wiping a tear from his eye.    
  
“You’d think she would have had the common sense to bring a smaller bag to the market. That handbag of hers is huge!” said Wanda.  “I never take a large bag to market.”  
  
“It was a different bag,” noted Timothy.  “Same destructive size, but not the same pattern on the leather.”  
  
“Those are expensive bags,” chimed in Una.  “I suppose they pay her well at the Tribune.”  
  
“So, what do you ladies think?” asked Timothy, sitting down in one of the armchairs.  
  
“My head is spinning after all that!” replied Una.  “I wish you had recorded it on your camera.”  
  
“Commander?”  
  
Wanda was studying the photos on Timothy’s mobile.  “Did you copy these onto the computer yet?”  
  
“Yes, Ma’am.”  
  
“Let’s have a look then,” said Wanda as she headed over to the computer desk.  
  
Timothy got one of the dining room chairs, so Una could sit beside Wanda; and he stood behind them.  
  
“They’re in the folder marked ‘Operation Parliament Hill’ in the folder marked ‘Grocery Lists’,” said Timothy.

"Why on earth is the folder named Grocery Lists?" inquired Una with a frown.

"So it won't peak the curiosity of Barrister Ben, should he be snooping around in our files one day," replied Timothy.   
  
Wanda opened the folder and they looked at the photo of Benedict with the woman named Dee.   She experimented with enlarging and sharpening the photo for a couple of minutes.  Finally, she was satisfied with her results.  
  
“This is the best I can do,” she lamented.  “I just wish her face were a bit clearer.”  
  
“She looks familiar to me,” commented Timothy.  “I know I’ve seen her before.”  
  
“She looks older than Benedict,” said Una.  “Pretty, though, from what I can make out.”  
  
“Let’s see.  What do we know about the Barbecoa bird?” began Wanda, as she opened her notepad program and began to type a list.  
  
“Her name begins with D and he really fancies her, per his best friend,” began Timothy.  “Ben himself confirmed as much this morning.  Now, I just happen to have some new information to reveal, Commander.”  
  
Wanda spun around in her chair and looked at Timothy with annoyance.

“So, what exactly are you holding back that you promised Ben you weren’t going to tell me?”  
  
“Ben said the girl he’s seeing is also dating another man. She favours open dating..."

"What exactly is open dating?" asked Una, picking up her teacup.

"Where they are free to date as many people as they fancy at the same time before settling on one person,”  explained Timothy.  
  
“We called it playing the field back then,” scoffed Wanda as she shook her head in amusement.  
  
“That surely will only complicate matters for poor Benedict,” said Una, taking a sip of her tea.  
  
“They’re already complicated,” countered Timothy, running his hand through his silver hair.  “Ben also happens to be acquainted with the man she’s dating...”  
  
“It’s got to be James Rhodes and that would mean  Donna Saint James is the Barbecoa bird!” exclaimed Wanda, clapping her hands together.  
  
“How did you come to that conclusion so quickly?”  
  
“It just makes sense,” retorted Wanda.  “As far as we know, Jimmy is still single.  We know for a fact that he had a coffee date with Donna Saint James once.”  
  
“They may have only gone out that one time, Wanda,” pointed out Timothy.  "If it had been a one-shot, Ben wouldn't be so frustrated."  
  
“If it is him, they are most likely still dating,” commented Una.    
  
“The odds of Donna being the Barbecoa bird are slim to none,” continued Timothy.  “Remember, I emailed her the photograph of Benedict, so she would immediately recognize him if she were.  There would be no reason for her to go to the market in that case because she already knows him.  Therefore, I have to believe that Donna’s not the Barbecoa bird. The one thing we do know for certain is that Ben and Jimmy are friends,” said Timothy, as he grabbed himself a chair to sit behind the two women.  
  
“The bird Benedict fancies goes out with more than one man.  Does this other man date different women at the same time?” inquired Una.     
  
“Apparently so,” said Timothy.  
  
Una pursed her lips.  “And you have no real evidence that James Rhodes and/or Donna date other people, yes?”  
  
“Correct," said Timothy, sitting forward and resting his arms on the backs of Wanda and Una's chairs.  
  
Wanda kept typing.  “What do we know about Donna Saint James?”  
  
“She responded to your ad and seems to be the perfect fit,” said Una.  “Her name also begins with D,” she added.  “The rest of the evidence is sketchy. You’ve got nothing concrete to go on I’m afraid.”  
  
Wanda sighed.  “As much as I want to believe that Donna Saint James is the bird from Barbecoa, I just can’t after what Tim just said. As he said, if she were, she would already know what he looks like. She would have said something to me as soon as she got the photo of him.  When I look at our evidence realistically, there are just too many holes I can poke through it.”  
  
“Didn’t I just say that?” snapped Timothy impatiently.    
  
Wanda switched back to the photograph of Benedict and his ‘friend’ Dee.  She tapped the screen with a pencil.  
  
“It seems more and more likely that this woman is the Barbecoa bird.  I hope she’s not too much older than him.  I really do want her to be of child-bearing age.”  
  
Timothy leaned over and took over the mouse from his wife and clicked on the last few photos of Benedict and Donna.  
  
“There’s your little bird,” said Una, clapping her hands together.  “Don’t they look perfect together?”  
  
“Yes, they do,” smiled Wanda sadly.  “I wish I knew how they managed to meet each other.  Ben wasn’t at the market.  It had to have taken place during the time frame where she left the market, and he was out and about doing errands on the High Street.”  
  
“It doesn’t matter how they met, Pet.  The fact is that they finally did,” said Timothy rubbing Wanda’s shoulders.  “However, there is something that’s bothering me about Donna Saint James.”  
  
Wanda looked up at Timothy. “What, Love?”  
  
“Well, she may still be dating Jimmy Rhodes for all we know.  Then I see her flirting with Ben’s best mate at the market. Then a while later, I see her with Ben!  Not to mention how disasters seem to constantly befall her and all those to have the misfortune to happen to be around her.  Maybe we should rethink this, yes?.”  
  
“It’s too late for that, Tim.  The wheels are already in motion.  We just need to know what happened,” said Wanda.  “I thought you were on board with her.”  
  
“Between the flirting with Adam and Ben and the fact that she might be dating Jimmy, doesn’t give me a warm fuzzy feeling.  After today,  I’m not sure I’m liking her much at the moment. Call me old-fashioned,” laughed Timothy bitterly.    
  
“We can’t forget the Barbecoa bird.  He was with her today, too,” added Wanda.  “Hells bells! What a fucking kettle of fish this has turned into!”  
  
“There’s no use in sitting here speculating when neither of you really have any hard facts to go on,” said Una. “The important questions are going to be:  Did she and Benedict fancy each other once they actually met?  And did she or Benedict initiate a date?  That’s what you need to know.”  
  
“You’re one hundred percent right, Una,” mused Timothy.  
  
“I’m afraid only Donna Saint James can answer those questions,” replied Wanda as she closed the folders.  “Why in the hell hasn’t she called yet?”  
  
“Perhaps one of them changed their mind, and they met up to have a coffee.  Its so easy to lose track of the time.  You know nothing is quick with Benedict.  He so loves to have a proper chat,” laughed Una. “Now there I go speculating!”  
  
“There wasn’t a huge window of opportunity,” remarked Timothy. “I could swear she was headed to the tube station. Ben definitely went off in the opposite direction back towards his flat.  He had to go home and cook dinner. He couldn’t spend a lot of time flirting over a cuppa unless they had it before I saw them.”  
  
Wanda sighed.  “I could see Benedict changing his mind and calling her to come back for a coffee.  If he really fancied her and wanted to get to know her a bit better, he would definitely do that.  He runs on his own internal clock, bless him.”  
  
The three looked at each other and shrugged.  
  
“So, all we can do now is relax, have some dinner and wait,” said Wanda in a resigned tone of voice.  “How about we retire to the roof terrace for a gin and tonic before I start dinner? I’ll make us some nibbles.”  
  
“Sounds lovely,” said Una getting to her feet. “I’ll help you with the nibbles.”  
  
“I’ll be happy to put on my bartender hat,” laughed Timothy.   
  
Wanda’s mobile began to ring.  She picked it up off the desk and looked at the caller ID.   She smiled at Timothy and Una.  
  
“Hold off on those drinks, Corporal. I believe we’re about to find out the answers to our questions. It’s Donna Saint James.”  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. The name of the food stands are actual food stands at Parliament Hill Farmers Market. I have never been to Hampstead, so I don't know the layout of the village or the market.
> 
> 2\. I have no idea what’s involved in a film shoot on location, so everything pertaining to Asylum and Murder is Easy has been made up. 
> 
> 3\. Had a bit of trouble with the continuity – my apologies if anything if off.


	53. Chapter 53

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanda gets her much anticipated phone call from Donna. Benedict cooks dinner for Donna - Part One.

  
  
Timothy Carlton and Una Stubbs stopped in their tracks and sat back down on the couch, when Wanda announced that the caller on her mobile was Donna Saint James.  
  
“Put her on speaker, so we can all hear what she has to say, Commander,” said Timothy. “That way I won’t have to debrief you afterwards.”  
  
“Do you want me to take notes?” offered Una excitedly.    
  
“Oh, yes, please!” replied Wanda, handing her friend a pad and pen.  
  
“What on earth for?” demanded Timothy.  “Are you two daft?”  
  
“In case....I may forget what she says...or I may want to go back for reference.”  
  
“Not with the three of us listening,” scoffed Timothy with a wave of his hand.  
  
“Wait!  I can record the call!” said Wanda, fiddling with her mobile. "I know it has a record feature...at least that's what the bloke who sold us these bloody phones said."

"Give me the damn thing!" snapped Timothy, holding out his hand.  
  
“Quick! Answer it before it goes to your voicemail!” cried Una.  "I'll take old-fashioned notes."  
  
Wanda swallowed and answered.  “Hello?”  She stood with her fingers crossed.  
  
**_“Hi Wanda! It’s Donna.”_**  
  
“Hello, Dear.  Forgive me for being so blunt, but how did it go with Ben?”

"That was too blunt, Wanda!" scolded Una, eyes wide.  
  
“Christ, Wanda!  Could you be anymore brazen?” hissed Timothy as he rolled his eyes. 

_Well actually she can be a lot more, but let's hope she keeps it in check for now._  
  
“Force yourself to be cool and subtle!” coached Una.  “Don’t sound too eager! Draw on that wealth of acting experience you have!”  she whispered urgently.  
  
_I’m afraid it’s too late for that.  The Wanda Express has left the station, and is headed for the terminus at full speed,_ thought Timothy.  
  
**_“You sound like you’re in a tunnel, Wanda.”_**  
  
“I’m in the kitchen, making dinner; so I put you on the speaker.  This way we can chat while I cook.”  
  
**_“Are you alone?”_**  
  
Wanda looked at Timothy and Una and rolled her eyes.

“Yes. Quite alone.”  
  
_**“I really hate being put on speaker. Can’t you please take me off?  I won’t be that long.”**_  
  
“I’d really love to, but I’ve got my hands up a bloody chicken’s arse right now.”  
  
There was silence as Timothy and Una almost fell all over each other with laughter at Wanda’s brash comment.  
  
“Donna?  Are you there?”  
  
**_“I could call back later....being you're.....busy.”_**  
  
_Oh, for fucks sake!  She needs to stop being so fussy and tell me what in the hell happened!_ thought Wanda, her impatience growing by the minute.  
  
Wanda huffed.  “I’m just stuffing a chicken for dinner is all, and I need to get this done before my husband comes home.  So how was the market?”  she asked brusquely.  
  
_That’s my Wanda!  Always up to taking charge of any situation,_ thought Timothy.  _Let’s see if it works._  
  
**_“Tell you what.  How about you call me back when you’ve got the chicken in the oven?”_ countered Donna, who was also beginning to sound impatient as well. _“Just make sure to call me soon.  I’ve got a date to get ready for.”_**  
  
_Bloody hell!  She’s as stubborn as Benedict,_ thought Timothy.  _If she hangs up, it may take awhile before Wanda reaches her; and we’re going to go mad here if we don’t find out what transpired between them._  
  
Timothy and Una began making frantic motions to Wanda to take Donna off the speaker.    
  
_This little bird needs to stop being stubborn and tell me what in the fuck happened,_ thought Wanda angrily.    
  
“Donna, please allow me to be perfectly blunt...”  
  
“Wanda!  Watch your mouth!” hissed Timothy. “She’s a bit touchy like our son. Pretend you're talking to him when he's in one of his moods.”

_Hmmm...with all her tact and diplomacy at times, she would have told Ben to go stuff it by now._  
  
_**“I’d say you’ve actually been borderline rude, but....”**_  
  
“I didn’t think she was being cheeky, did you, Tim?” whispered Una.  
  
Wanda was getting distracted by Timothy almost jumping up and down in front of her.  She covered the mouthpiece.  
  
“Stop that right now, both of you, before she hears you!” Wanda snapped.  
  
**_“Somehow I don’t think you’re alone,”_ said Donna. _“Who did you just talk to?”_**  
  
“The chicken.”  
  
There was silence.  
  
Timothy threw up his hands and walked across the room, shaking his head.  
  
“I was having trouble loosening the skin, so I said ‘damn you chicken’, satisfied?”  
  
_**“I thought you said you were stuffing it, Wanda.”**_  
  
Wanda took a deep breath.  _And I'd love to tell you to stuff it!  Just like Benedict!  Jesus, they really do deserve each other._  
  
“I’m doing both.  I stuffed the back end, so now I’m going to put some compound butter and herbs under the skin.  Then I’m going to do the front end,” said Wanda quickly. “Satisfied now?” she added sarcastically.  
  
Timothy tossed a pillow at Wanda, and Una was shaking her head and waving at Wanda to change the subject.  
  
_**“Must be an awfully big chicken,”** _**said Donna dryly**. _ **“You’ll be eating at midnight at this rate.”**_  
  
“Look, Love,” said Wanda in a stern voice. “I’m very busy running around, trying to get this damn bird in the oven before my company arrives; so please indulge me, yes?  I’ll take you off the blasted speaker as soon as I’m finished then. Now, did you meet Ben?”  
  
_**“Yes. Yes, I did meet your son.  I actually had my doubts for awhile that I was going to come across him at all.”**_  
  
“I’m so glad!  How did it happen?  Did you manage to bump into him as planned?”  
  
**_“Actually, I met him on my way out of the market.  I made three circuits and finally got disgusted that I couldn’t find him, so I made up my mind to leave when we literally bumped into each other.”_**  
  
“Did you see him coming?”  
  
**_“No.  I was on my way out, and he seemed to be on his way in when we ran into each other.  Neither of us were paying attention.”_**  
  
“Sounds just like Benedict, bless him.  Head always in the clouds, concentrating on the task at hand and oblivious to everything going on around him,” muttered Timothy.  
  
“Sounds just like her,” added Wanda, covering the mouthpiece.  “She’s always rushing around, multitasking.”  
  
“Shush!” warned Una.  “She’ll hear you.  She seems to have forgotten she’s on speaker!”  
  
“So what happened?” probed Wanda gently.  
  
_**“After apologizing to each other, we talked a bit.”**_  
  
“Oh, that’s good then!  Did he ask you out?”  
  
_**“No.  He didn’t.”**_  
  
“Oh...so you asked him to have a coffee like we discussed then?”  
  
_**“No.  I didn’t.”**_  
  
“Well, for fucks sake! What did happen, Donna?”  
  
_**“There’s no need for profanity, Wanda.  Please let me finish.”**_  
  
_Hells bells!  She waffles just like Benedict.  Get to the fucking point already!_ thought Wanda angrily.  
  
“My apologies.  It’s just that we’ve been planning this for so long; and I’m so anxious to know the outcome.”  
  
Wanda flipped the bird at the mobile.  
  
There was silence for a long moment.  
  
“Donna?  Are you still there?” asked Wanda nervously.  
  
_I’m suddenly not getting good vibes from her._  
  
**_“Ben is very nice, Wanda.  He seems to be everything you said he is.  He’s a true gentleman, and he’s certainly handsome and dresses nicely....”_**  
  
“No one’s _ever_ said he dresses nicely,” mused Timothy.    
  
_**“....He seems like such a kind soul.....very sweet and caring.”**_  
  
Timothy and Una exchanged concerned glances, as they were both thinking the same thing.  
  
_This is not going to end the way Wanda hopes it will_ , he thought.  
  
**_“He’s smart and has a cute sense of humor....”_**  
  
Una looked at Wanda with a worried expression.  Wanda held up her hand as if she had an idea as to what was coming.  
  
**_“....but I just didn’t feel any special connection between us, and I don’t think he felt any either.  He’s the type of guy I’d like to be friends with.”_**  
  
_Just what I was afraid of,_ thought Timothy. _Damn it!_  
  
“You can’t really tell what someone’s like after only a brief conversation, Donna,” said Wanda.  “It takes time to get to know someone and for romantic feelings to develop.”  
  
**Donna sighed audibly. _“I’m afraid we’re going to have to agree to disagree on that one, Wanda.  Sometimes you feel an immediate spark when you meet someone, and I just didn’t feel it with Ben.”_**  
  
“That was it then?”  
  
**_“Pretty much.  We said our good-byes and parted ways.”_**  
  
“I wish you had asked him for a coffee,” lamented Wanda.  “Then you would have seen how wonderful is really is.”  
  
Timothy made a motion to end the conversation.  “Know when to quit, Wanda.  You’re not going to get anywhere with her,”  he whispered. “It’s over.”  
  
“Sounds like her mind’s made up,” added Una quietly.  
  
**Donna hesitated briefly.** _ **“Wanda, there’s something else I want to tell you.”**_  
  
“What is it, Dear?”  
  
**_“The real reason I didn’t go through with the plan is because I’ve met someone.  Someone very special.  A man who I was attracted to the first time we met.  We’ve been dating, and I’ve developed very deep feelings for him.  I don’t want to see anyone else.”_**  
  
_Could it be Rhodes she’s talking about?_ thought Timothy.  
  
“When did this happen?” asked Wanda in a small voice.  
  
_**“Not long after I answered your ad.”**_  
  
_Timing doesn’t seem right for it to be Rhodes from what Ben said and what I know,_ thought Timothy. _But I could be wrong.  There’s a lot we don’t know.  I tend to doubt it’s him she’s talking about._  
  
“Then why did you go through with the plan today, Donna?” asked Wanda in frustration.  
  
**_“Because I felt I had made a commitment to you and felt the right thing was to keep it. Part of me was also curious as to what Ben was like.  And then I met him, and he really was a nice guy, but I just couldn’t go through with it.  I’m so sorry, Wanda.”_**  
  
Timothy watched as the tears slid down Wanda’s cheeks.  He walked over and put his arm around her shoulder.  
  
“I’m very happy for you, Donna.  I hope it works out,” she said quietly, trying to hold back tears of anger and disappointment.  
  
**_“Are you alright, Wanda?  You sound awful...I didn’t want to hurt you....you’re such a nice lady, and you would have made a great mother-in-law and grandmother had things worked out.”_**  
  
“And I always felt that you would have been a fine daughter-in-law,” she sniffed.  
  
_**“Wanda, just because I’m not going to date Ben, doesn’t mean we can’t be friends.  What do you think?"**_  
  
_Christ!  She thinks, too.  Too much thinking,_ thought Timothy. _My wife needs to hang up and sever all ties._  
  
_**“Maybe we could have afternoon tea at the Orangery again?”**_  
  
Una nodded at her to say yes.  “Maybe things won’t work out with the guy she’s seeing,” she mouthed to Wanda, holding a box of tissues in front of her. “Keep you options open.  It can’t hurt.”  
  
Timothy rolled his eyes.  “This way she can have another chance to maim you,” he whispered disgustedly.  “I vote that you make a clean break and hang up!”  
  
Wanda took a tissue from Una and wiped her eyes.  
  
“I’d like that Donna.  Yes, let’s stay in touch.”  
  
**_“I’m so glad, Wanda!  I was afraid that you’d hold this against me.”_**  
  
“Perish the thought.  I’m not like that at all.”  
  
Wanda poked Timothy in the ribs as he began to mime coughing.  
  
_I’m just going to make a voodoo doll once I hang up and stick it full of pins, God damn her and that man she met!_   thought Wanda.    
  
_**“We’ll talk soon.  I hope your chicken cooks quickly,”**_ **laughed Donna.** _ **“Though in this heat, you could probably just leave it out on the counter, and it’ll cook by itself.”**_  
  
“Take care, Donna.  Ring me when you want to make a date to have tea,” said Wanda as she rang off.  
  
Wanda banged her mobile down on the desk and wiped her eyes.    
  
“Bloody fucking hell!  Can you believe that?  Our friend, Fate, sure played a nasty trick on us!”    
  
“There’s nothing you could have said to change her mind, Wanda.  Her mind was already made up,” said Una, patting her arm.  “She’s a stubborn little bird.”  
  
Wanda stopped fighting the tears and let them flow.

“Oh!  It was a perfect plan, Una!  I spent so much time coordinating everything!”  
  
“Technically, it _did_ work, Wanda,” pointed out Una gently.  “They were supposed to bump into each other and meet and that’s exactly what did happen in the end.  You even have the photo as proof.  In that regard the plan was a success.”  
  
“Una’s right,” agreed Timothy wholeheartedly.  “The first part of the plan did go off precisely as planned.  The problem is they didn’t seem to fancy one another in the way we hoped they would.”  
  
Wanda blew her nose.  “What’s there not to love about our Benedict?  He’s intelligent, handsome, employed.”  
  
“Maybe it was the preternatural eyes that did it,” quipped Timothy.  “Or the long face. Let’s face it, Love, our son’s looks aren’t everyone’s cup of tea. Samantha Alden-Thomas wasn’t bowled over by his head shot if you recall.”  
  
“I will never forget that bastard of a drama critic who called him horse-faced and arse-named in his review. What was his name again?” asked Una.  “That was when Benedict first started out.”  
  
“I’ve since forgotten his name, but I still have the letter I shot off to him if I really feel like looking it up. How dare he say those things about my Benedict?  He’s the only one who ever gave him a bad review!”  
  
“Freedom of speech and of the press, unfortunately,” said Timothy.  "It's part of the package that comes with putting yourself out there on a stage - you are a target for the critics."  
  
“Was it that sourpuss critic at the Tribune?” asked Una.  “The one who hates everything?”  
  
“No, and praise all that is holy that the dolt retired last year,” replied Timothy with a sneer.  “The one we’re talking about was some wise arse, hotshot critic at the New York Times. His name’s on the tip of my tongue. I just need a minute.”  
  
Wanda continued her rant. “For fucks sake Benedict’s a working actor – and a brilliant one at that.  He’s going to make it someday soon.  I just know it. He’s kind and generous to a fault and has a wonderful sense of humour. He can cook and keeps his flat fairly clean and tidy..."

_She hasn't been around to his flat recently.  Our boy needs to hire himself a cleaner,_ thought Timothy with amusement. 

"......He’s smart and well-read and supports the arts and charities. You’ve seen him with children, Una – he adores them. I just know he’d make that dumb little dolly bird a wonderful husband.  She’d never regret it.”  
  
“Have you petitioned the Pope to canonize him yet?” asked Timothy sarcastically.  
  
“I think there already is a Saint Benedict,” replied Una with a chuckle.  
  
“Wanda, it sounds as if they spent ten minutes together tops.  That’s not a whole hell of a lot of time for all his wonderful qualities to come out,” said Timothy.  “We were banking on an instant chemistry to develop between them.  Unfortunately, it didn't.”  
  
Una shrugged. “Things happen for a reason, Wanda.  This wasn’t meant to be.”  
  
“Well, had she given him a chance, he would have made her very happy,” cried Wanda.    
  
“Who’s to say what attracts one person to another, Darling,” said Timothy, as he gathered Wanda into his arms.  “As Una just said, it just wasn’t meant to be.”  
  
“Could the man Donna’s talking about be James Rhodes?” asked Una.  
  
Timothy shrugged.  “I was wondering the same thing, but tend to doubt it. At this point, I frankly don’t know what to think.  All we know for sure is that Benedict is seeing someone who he’s serious about and that she’s dating another man at the same time. Period.  We are going to have to wait until he’s ready to tell us more. And now on that happy note, I think I’m going to fix us those gin and tonics.”  
  
“Make mine a double please,” laughed Una.  
  
“Make mine a double also, but hold the tonic,” said Wanda disgustedly.  
  
Timothy headed off the kitchen to mix the drinks, but suddenly stopped and turned to face his wife as a question suddenly popped into his mind.  
  
“Wanda, why were you so eager to cultivate a friendship with Donna after all that just went down?  Is it that you really are a glutton for punishment or were you just giving her lip service and have no intention of being friends?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.  
  
“Sounds like you’re over thinking things!” Una laughed.  “She does seem like a nice girl, Tim.  What harm could there be in being friends with her?”  
  
“You weren’t at the Orangery or the market today – that girl is a menace!” exclaimed Timothy.  “Some day she’s going to accidentally kill someone, and I’d prefer it not be my wife or son the more I think about it. We need to forget about her and concentrate on finding out more about this Dee.”  
  
_I also need to stop all this thinking._  
  
Wanda sat down and turned off the computer.  She swiveled in her chair to face her husband and her friend.  
  
“I have two very good reasons for wanting to stay in touch with Donna Saint James,” she said with a toss of her head.  
  
“Go ahead. You’ve got my undivided attention,” said Timothy, crossing his arms over his chest.  
  
“Well, as Una pointed out, she’s a lovely bird; and part of me really does want to maintain a relationship with her.”  
  
_I sense an ulterior motive here,_ thought Timothy.  _It doesn’t make sense that Wanda wants to be friends with someone who almost maimed her and didn’t take to Benedict right off._  
  
“And the other?” asked Una with a frown.  
  
“If things don’t work out between her and this man, and things don’t work out between Benedict and the Barbecoa bird; I just may be able to bring them together,” smiled Wanda. “What harm can come from giving it another try? Particularly, if we become friendly.”  
  
_I knew there had to be something brewing in the bad idea department._  
  
“Wanda!” said Timothy sharply.  “ _Not_ a good idea!”  
  
“Oh, Tim! Don’t be so stropy,” retorted Wanda as she dismissed him with a wave of her hand.  “You know if all fails, I can simply rerun the ad on Craigslist.”  
  
“Oh, yes! That’s a brilliant idea, Love!” exclaimed Una, clapping her hands together.

"No, it's _not_ , Una!" insisted Timothy.  "Please don't encourage her...not that she needs much."

Una didn't seem to hear him, as she was caught up in Wanda's new-found enthusiasm.

“You’ve got the ad saved on your computer, yes?”  
  
Wanda nodded.  “I sure do.  I even have backup files on the laptop we keep in the cottage just in case something were to happen to these."  
  
“I suppose neither of you is listening to me at this point,” said Timothy with resignation.  
  
_The Wanda Express has stopped to pickup a passenger.  I think I give up._  
  
“Una, we happen to have an extra ticket to see Ben tomorrow in that radio show he’s doing for BBC4 – _Cabin Pressure_.  Would you fancy joining us?”  
  
“That would be brilliant!  Thank you for asking me.  It’ll give us time to plot Phase Two of Daughter-in-Law Wanted.”  Una turned to Timothy and patted his arm.  “Don’t you worry, Tim.  Wanda and I will find a bird for Ben no matter what it takes.”  
  
_And that’s what I’m afraid of,_ thought Timothy.  _Should Benedict ever find out we did this once, he’ll go through the roof...but to find out we did it twice?_  
  
“I think I’d better get those drinks now,” muttered Timothy Carlton as he left the room.  “Three double gins, hold the tonic.”

  
  
  
  
  
Donna Saint James stood on the sidewalk gawking at the beautiful two-family, Victorian brick home at 102 Hearthstone Terrace.  She double-checked the piece of paper she was holding, and it was indeed the address Benedict had given her in the Parliament Hill section of Hampstead.  As she had walked the winding, hilly streets leading to his home, Donna loved how it seemed to be farther and farther removed from the hustle and bustle of central London with each step.  
  
_Holy cow!  I had no idea Benedict lived in such a prestigious area!  What a gorgeous old house. It’s hard to believe that the city is only a twenty minute tube ride away from this peaceful little enclave._  
  
The house appeared to be three-stories, converted into two units.  Each unit had a large bay window with colorful leaded glass panes in the front.  There were leaded glass panes in the smaller windows as well.  
  
_I love the stained glass in the windows. It must look fabulous at night when the lights are turned on inside.  I wonder if there is a window seat on the inside of the bay window? What a great place to curl up with a cup of tea and read a book or just gaze out at the street.  I remember Benedict saying that he had a small rooftop garden, but I can’t see it from here. I suppose its in the back of the house._  
  
There was a four-foot high retaining brick wall in front of the house, which had a set of steps leading up to a landing with a paved path that led to the front door.  The tiny landing had a small plot of well-tended grass and some uninspired plantings. There was a driveway off to the side that led to an underground garage. Donna also spied a wooden gate set in a high brick wall that seemed to surround the property.  The gate probably led to the backyard.  
  
_If this were my house, I’d get some professional landscaping done and install flower-filled window boxes to the smaller windows. Perhaps two large terracotta containers – one on either side of the front door with sculpted evergreens. I wonder what the backyard looks like? Maybe Benedict will show me later. I guess I should let him know I’m here._  
  
The heavy oak door had a small, octagon-shaped leaded glass panel made up of tiny pieces of different colored glass. Donna pressed the button on the doorbell panel labeled ‘Flat B - Cumberbatch’. She noted that the other tenant in Flat A was named ‘Larbey’.  There was a slot in the door for the mail rather than a mailbox.  
  
_"Donna?"_ came Benedict's voice from the intercom speaker.  He sounded out of breath.  
  
"I made it!" Donna cheerfully responded as she gazed across the street.  
  
The charming gas lamp-lit, tree-lined street was situated on one of the highest points in Hampstead.  From what Donna had read, this particular area was known for its views of Hampstead Heath and the city of London beyond. The area residents were comprised of artists, musicians, celebrities and well-off laymen, making it a very coveted location.  She recalled reading that there was also the odd rental property mixed in.  
   
_I bet the rents here are high. I wonder how he can afford it? I can’t wait to get inside into the a/c.  It’s hot as hell today._  
  
Donna heard the sounds of footfalls on stairs and the heavy wooden door being unlocked.  There stood Benedict, clean shaven and barefoot with damp hair that was just starting to curl on its own.  He was wearing a pale blue, knee-length, light cotton robe which was loosely tied around his slender waist.  
  
"Am I too early?" Donna asked hesitantly.  
  
_Damn, I'm too early. He looks like he just got out of the shower.  I should have walked around the village more._  
  
"No, of course not," Benedict replied hastily, standing aside so she could enter the foyer. “Please come in.”  He closed and locked the door behind her.  
  
_Shit, she's half an hour early.  She's always so damn fucking early. I'm no where near ready. I have to remain calm. I can do this...somehow I’ll make up the time._  
  
“What’s in there?” Benedict asked, noticing the shopping bag Donna was carrying.  
  
Donna opened the bag and pulled out the bottle of rose wine she had bought at the market.    
  
"I thought we could have this with dinner," she said. “Goes with meat, fish or fowl.”  
  
"How lovely!  Thank you.  I'm making Tuscan chicken, so this will be perfect," Benedict smiled as he accepted the bottle.  “What else do you have in there?” he asked as he tried to stick his free hand into the shopping bag.  
  
Donna quickly pulled it away from his hand and hid the bag behind her back.  “Stop being so nosy.”  
  
Benedict made a face at her.  “I’m inquisitive.”  
  
“These are for later. You need to practice being patient.”    
  
_And we really need to get out of this entrance hall and go inside where it’s cool before I pass out from the damn heat._  
  
Benedict gave her a mock pouting face.  “There’s more for me, but I have to wait?”  
  
“I’m afraid so.  However, your patience will be rewarded.”  
  
“It’s a well-known fact that I don’t have _any_ patience,” he scoffed.  
  
“Well?”  Donna smiled up at him expectantly and puckered her lips.  "No kiss?"  
  
Benedict leaned down and gave her a quick, chaste peck on the lips.  His lips were warm and dry and he tasted like mint. She had no time to return the kiss.  
  
"I just spent twenty minutes in an UN-airconditioned tube car packed full of smelly people and that's my reward?  Oh, Benedict, I know you can do better than that!"  
  
He indicated a door with a peephole that obviously led to the flat below his and whispered in her ear.  
  
"Bob and I share the entrance foyer.  He can see and hear everything that we say here and in the stairwell!"  
  
Donna nodded and followed Benedict up the flight of stairs. She had trouble keeping up with him being the temperature was rising as they climbed.  
  
_Shit!  He’d better have that a/c cranked up all the way.  This is like hell. Oh, wait. What do we have here?_  
  
Donna suddenly forgot about the heat as she was treated to the sight of Benedict wearing nothing under the thin, almost see-through robe.  The sash of the robe had become untied and the robe billowed out behind him as he mounted the steps, affording her a prime view of his legs and bottom.  
  
_Oh my, oh my! She thought as she stopped to catch her breath.  That is one fine and firm butt!  I don't think I've ever seen a man with such a plump butt.  It doesn't even jiggle. No cellulite either. It’s so much nicer in person than in the movies. Oh, Mr. Cumberbatch, how I would love to have the opportunity to show your butt the proper appreciation it deserves without the hindrance of clothing. Look at those legs! They’re really nice and those muscular thighs. I’d love to run my hands up and down his inner thighs and make him shiver.  I’m also sure I caught a flash of his package between his legs, which looks quite substantial. It’s getting hotter, but I can’t tell if it’s me or the heat._  
  
Donna suddenly looked up to find Benedict staring over his shoulder at her from the top step.  His cheeks had reddened considerably. Donna could feel her cheeks flush in turn under his disapproving gaze.  
  
_Crap.  He caught me ogling his ass.  Lord knows what he must think of me._  
  
Benedict quickly tucked the bottle under his arm and retied the sash of the robe.  He made sure to pull it tightly around him as he stood on the landing, waiting for her to catch up.    
  
_Fucking dressing gown.  She was looking at my fat arse.  Christ, Benedict, you need to get some clothes on._  
  
“Jesus, it’s hot as hell in this stairwell,” Donna complained, fanning herself with her hand.  
  
“Heat rises, so it will feel a bit hotter up here,” replied Benedict.  “Slow down and take your time.  These steps are steep if you’re not used to them.”  
  
Donna nodded and continued to climb, taking her time.  This gave her the opportunity to study his lower legs.  
  
_Nice calves. Must be all the swimming he does.  Not too hairy either...I really like his ginger body hair.  You don’t notice it unless you’re on top of him...what I wouldn’t give to be on top of him....after I stop sweating.  Look at those feet, nice smooth heels.  I don't see any calluses.  I bet he gets pedicures.  Boy, his feet are so long and thin. I bet he wears a narrow width shoe._  
  
Donna finally arrived at the top of the stairs.  Benedict opened the door and stood aside so she could enter the foyer of his apartment.  She couldn’t wait to get inside and feel the cold rush of air conditioning, but all she felt was more hot air.  
  
_Oh, no!  His air conditioning isn’t working! No wonder he told me to dress light.  I’m going to die right here._  
  
As soon as Donna entered the small area, Benedict closed the door behind them and quickly pulled her into an embrace, pushing her up against the door, bodies pressed together.  He smiled lasciviously at her and began to kiss her jaw and neck.  
  
_Christ. I can feel his privates through that robe. I want to rip it off of him and take a good look at what he has to offer._  
  
Donna felt beads of perspiration forming on her forehead and upper lip. She felt a trickle of sweat on the back of her neck and her damp underwear felt glued to her body.  
  
“Mmmm...you feel and smell so good,” he moaned as he nibbled her earlobe. His breathing had definitely speeded up.  
  
_Well, I guess he doesn’t mind the smell of sweat. Why is he not sweating? He’s dry as could be. I don't want to drip on him!_  
  
“Oh, my!  This is just like a movie I once saw,” Donna giggled nervously. “Remember that scene in the _Godfather_ where Sonny pushes one of the bridesmaids up against the bathroom door?”  
  
“Rips off her knickers and fucks her brains out,” finished Benedict, peppering her face with tiny kisses.  “I remember it from the book and the film vividly.  Very erotic, but not very feasible in real life,” he laughed. “Especially in this heat. I’m afraid we’d both wind up in hospital on drips when we were done.”  
  
He stood back and regarded her with a raised eyebrow, as he prepared to kiss her lips.  
  
"Ready for your reward for surviving the tube and my stairwell, Miss Saint James?"  
  
Donna wiped the beads of sweat off her upper lip with her hand and smiled at him. "Oh, yes, please reward me, Mr. Cumberbatch, even if we wind up stuck together. I’m willing to take a risk."  
  
“In that case, I’ll definitely take my chances,” he laughed throatily as his full cupid’s bow lips came crashing down on hers.  
  
They exchanged several deep kisses that got stickier and stickier. Benedict pressed himself as close as he could, so she could feel the beginnings of an erection against her stomach.  
  
_My stomach feels all damp from sweat.  It’s going to wet his robe.  I can’t tell if my panties are wet from sweating or from his body being so close to mine. Oh, this is gross!_    
  
Donna felt the sweat dripping down her forehead and onto his face as they kissed.    
  
_Oh, no!  Why is this happening?  It’s so fucking hot in here! Doesn’t he feel the sweat running off me.  He’s either too much of a gentleman to mention it or he’s so caught up in the moment that he doesn’t notice it._  
  
Benedict broke the kiss and looked down at her, as he pulled his body away.  His face was perfectly dry except for the area around his mouth and chin, which was wet from her sweat.  He blotted it with the sleeve of the dressing gown.  
  
“Did I do something to make you uncomfortable, Donna?  You’ve been squirming like you want me to stop kissing you. Your face is all red and you’re sweating quite a bit....are you feeling alright?  
  
“You’re not sweating, Benedict,” Donna observed. “Aren’t you hot?”  
  
“I’m feeling very hot, but not in the same way that you mean it,” he snickered.  “I’m perfectly fine. I’ll put on the fan.”  
  
“How can you _not_ be sweating?  It’s like a motherfucking oven in here!  Is your a/c broken?”  
  
“Nope.  This house doesn’t have central air con.  As a matter of fact, you’ll find many homes in the UK that are like this.  Same applies to many work places, shops, hotels.”  
  
Donna’s mouth dropped open.  “I had no idea. Why not?”  
  
Benedict laughed as he led her into his lounge and turned on a large pedestal fan.  
  
“That’s because you came in the winter, so this is your first summer here.  Our climate is on the cool side – even in the summer -  so we rarely need it.  Maybe two weeks out of the year we could use it.”  
  
“Well, this must be one of those two weeks. You certainly need it today!  It must be over ninety degrees outside!  How do you live like this?”  
  
Benedict shrugged. “This heat wave is not the norm, Donna.  It won’t last long.  I’ll be back to using the heat before the end of next week.”  
  
_The heat? In the summer? It would have to get pretty damn cold for me to turn on the heat in the summer._  
  
“How do you sleep at night?”  
  
“I’ve got a portable air con unit that I keep in my bedroom.  I can bring it out here, but I doubt it would do much good as this space is so much larger. Let me put the wine in to chill, and I’ll put some clothes on,” Benedict said as he went into the small galley-style kitchen that opened off the lounge. “What can I offer you to drink?”  
  
“Something cold...with lots of ice, please.”  
  
Benedict opened the refrigerator and rattled off the contents:  “Unsweetened iced tea, orange juice, raspberry grape juice, Diet Coke, Ginger-ale, beer, tonic water, sparkling water or milk.  I’ve got chocolate syrup, so I can make chocolate milk, if you fancy it.”  
  
“Iced tea would be wonderful,” replied Donna as she took her shopping bag and followed him to the kitchen.    
  
She sat on one of the stools at the tiny breakfast bar and set the bag on the countertop.  Then Donna spied the napkin holder and helped herself to a paper napkin, so she could blot the sweat off her face.  
  
“Since you are such a gentleman not to be turned off by my sweating.....”  
  
“Oh, you’ll find that it takes an awful lot to turn me off!” exclaimed Benedict with a gleeful laugh.  “I’m very open when it comes to.....”  
  
Donna simply stared at him.  
  
_Oh, Benedict, why did you say that?  She’ll think I’m weird. I need to check the mouth filter. That’s the kind of thing to discuss once we’re actually ready to take our relationship to the next level...but first we have to establish that we’re in a relationship._  
  
_I guess it’s good to know that he doesn’t find a little sweat a turn off.  He would have to, living in this apartment._  
  
Donna wiped her face again and noticed the beige color on the white napkin.  
  
_Crap!  I think I managed to wipe off all my makeup, and  I don’t think I care._  
  
“Here is your reward for being patient,” Donna said with a big smile, as she put her hand inside the shopping bag.    
  
Benedict watched as Donna pulled out a glass jar exactly like the one she had in her kitchen and placed it on the counter.  She was delighted as she watched his face break into a huge grin as he recognized the peanut butter cookies that he had eaten at her apartment.  
  
“Those biscuits are just genius!  I couldn’t stop eating them – as I’m sure you noticed,” Benedict said shyly, as he sliced a lemon and put a couple of wedges onto a small plate.    
  
“That’s why I thought you deserved your own batch,” Donna said with a smile.  “There is no greater compliment to a baker than to have someone show their appreciation by eating their treats.”  
  
“I was _very_ appreciative then,” he said.  “I think I actually managed to leave a couple behind.” Benedict laughed self-consciously, as he placed a large glass of iced tea, a long-handled spoon and the lemon wedges in front of Donna. “You made these especially for me?”  
  
“Yeah.  I got up early this morning and made them before I went to the market.”    
  
Benedict came around the counter and kissed her, hand resting for a moment on her bare thigh.  “That was such a lovely thing to do, Donna.  Thank you.”  
  
“It was my pleasure,” Donna said as she squeezed some lemon into the tea and added some sugar from the bowl he kept on the counter.  “My mom always has homemade cookies on hand in her cookie jar.  It’s just nice to know there is always a tasty treat waiting, should you have a craving.”  
  
_He’s looking me over with those damn gorgeous blue eyes,_ thought Donna as she tried to delicately blot the beads of perspiration off her upper lip. _I guess he approves of the shorts and tank top._  
  
_Bloody hell! She always catches me looking at her. Her tits look very nice in that top. Now, if only those shorts were shorter...I need to concentrate on dinner, rather than her legs._  
  
“I’m glad to see that you dressed lightly. You look very hot,” Benedict observed as he returned to the kitchen and opened the oven.  
  
“That’s because I _am_ hot,” Donna chuckled as she stirred the tea.  “Literally.”  
  
Benedict smirked at her over his shoulder.  “That wasn’t what I meant.”  
  
Donna blushed as she realized he had paid her a compliment.  “Thank you.  I’m so jealous that you’re not bothered by this heat.”  
  
“It’s all a matter of what you become accustomed to,” he said as he donned oven mitts and checked the contents of a covered casserole dish.  
  
Donna sipped the icy cold tea as she watched him use a meat thermometer to check the temperature of the food.  The aroma of roasting chicken, lemon, garlic and thyme filled the air, making her mouth water and stomach growl.  
  
“Hmmm...almost done.  I think another twenty minutes should do it.”  
  
“That really smells good,” said Donna, licking her lips.  “I’m starving.”  
  
“Good. I’m going to get dressed.  I’ll just be a few minutes. Then we can have the starter.”  
  
_Please let it be a cold appetizer, like a crisp, cold salad_ , thought Donna, as she felt the sweat trickle down her back.  She held the cold glass against her forehead. _I am so happy I decided against wearing jeans._  
  
“Make yourself comfortable and enjoy the view!” Benedict said, crossing the lounge and opening the heavy drapes that covered the window, which faced the back of the house.  He opened the window to let in fresh air. “I find that keeping these shut for the hottest part of the day, tends to keep it cooler in here.  I’ll be right back.”  
  
Donna Saint James forgot all about the sweat as she beheld the glorious view of Hampstead Heath and the city of London beyond.

  
  
   
  
  
Donna stood in front of the fan in the living room of Benedict’s sweltering apartment trying in vain to cool off.  She had tried sitting on the couch, but the black leather only made her legs feel even sweatier, so she decided to take a self-guided tour of the room.  
  
Being the kitchen was too small to eat in, the mahogany dining table and chairs shared space with the living room.  Donna noted that the table was covered with a cocoa brown linen table cloth and had matching napkins that were folded like pockets to hold the cutlery. The table had been set for dinner with plain white dishes, and frosted glassware.  There was a low, wide clear glass dish of camellia blossoms floating on water that had been placed in the center of the table.  
  
_Mr. Cumberbatch is quite domestic, it would seem.  He pays attention to detail. I like that.  Roy used paper plates and napkins when we weren’t eating out of the takeout containers._  
  
There were two large windows in the living room.  The bay window in the front of the house overlooked the street and did indeed have a window seat, which Donna loved.  The one in the back overlooked the backyard. If she looked straight out, Donna could see the Heath and above the trees the London skyline. The room was painted a cream color and the furnishings were very sparse by her standards.  The decor was a rather eclectic mix. There was the sectional leather couch, an old upholstered armchair and an ottoman that served as a coffee table.  Donna noted that the only window covering was the heavy drapes on the back one. The polished wooden floor and walls were bare. There was a glass end table that held a box of Baci chocolates.  Across the room was an empty, but apparently working fireplace.  

_I think I'll have one of those chocolates._

Donna helped herself to one of the Baci's and unwrapped it.  As she took a bite, the melted chocolate oozed all over her hand and onto the floor.

_SHIT!  The damn thing melted in the heat._

Donna licked the chocolate off her hand and got another napkin to wipe the chocolate off the floor.  Satisfied, she looked around the room for a wastebasket. A beautiful rolltop desk caught Donna’s eye. Thankfully, there was a small wastebasket beside it. Donna tossed the napkin in the basket and took a good look at the desk. On closer inspection it appeared to be not only an antique, but also the same desk Benedict had Skyped her from the night he fell off the chair. The top was rolled down, so she couldn't see if it housed a computer or not.  Donna made sure Benedict was no where in sight and carefully rolled up the top.  Unfortunately, she was greeted with a flurry of papers which spilled out onto the desktop and floor surrounding it.  
  
_Shit!  He just stuffed all his papers in here and shut the top.  Oh my God!  I’ve got to pick all this up before he catches me.  I’ll never hear the end of how nosy I am – and he would be right.  Oh, why did I do that?_  
  
Donna dropped to her knees and quickly began to pick up all the papers that were on the floor. The fan wasn’t helping by further scattering the mess.  There were bills, receipts and other assorted paperwork merrily blowing about the room.    
  
_Fuck!  I’ve got to turn off the fan and pick this up before Benedict finishes dressing._  
  
Suddenly the air stopped blowing around her.  
  
_OH NO._  
  
Two long, narrow feet clad in gray flip-flops appeared next to her.  
  
_Shit.  It’s him._  
  
“Find what you were looking for then?” came Benedict’s deep, baritone voice from above her.  
  
Donna sat back on her heels and looked up to find Benedict standing over her.  He was dressed in light blue, knee-length shorts and a brown short-sleeved T-shirt with the Brooklyn Bridge stenciled on it. He wore an amused expression on his face as he bent down beside her to help pick up the papers.  
  
“It’s such a beautiful old desk.  I was wondering if it was one of those desks modified for PC storage or if you left it as it was intended to be used,” Donna explained sheepishly.  “I wasn’t snooping or anything like that...really.”  
  
“I totally understand.  You were just being curious.”  
  
“You’re mocking me.”  
  
“No.  I’m mocking myself,” he laughed.  “I would have done the same.  Nothing peaks my curiosity more than a closed desk or wardrobe... or  especially password protected files.”  
  
Donna raised an eyebrow at him.  
  
_Shit – I left him alone on my laptop yesterday.  I wonder if he noticed the BEN file? Of course he did.  This is Benedict.  He notices everything._  
  
“Really?  You like to hack into password protected files in your spare time?”  
  
“My specialty,” bragged Benedict.  “My mum and I have a competition of sorts going with our files.”  
  
_Oh fuck!  What did you just tell her?  Put the motherfucking mouth filter on, Benedict, you twat.  Now, she’ll really think you and Mum are crackers._  
  
_How nice to know that he and his mother like to snoop into each other’s private files. I’m beginning to think they’re not normal.  I’d better change my password before he next comes around, especially if we’re going to be together._  
  
“The family that hacks together, stays together,” quipped Donna sarcastically, getting to her feet.  “Jesus, Benedict!”  
  
“It’s not how it sounded, I ....”  
  
“Sure it is!  The one thing I’ve learned about you is that you always blurt out the truth.  You are not a good liar, Benedict Cumberbatch.  Regardless of how wonderful an actor you are, in real life you can’t lie your way out of a paper bag.”  
  
Benedict gathered the last of the scraps of paper and stood up.  He began to shove them back onto the various shelves.  In the center of the desk sat a laptop.  
  
“I don’t have a PC.  I prefer to use a laptop.  That way I can take all my secrets along with me,” he teased her as he rolled the top back down and headed towards the kitchen.  He paused to hold out a seat at the table for her. “Have a seat, and I’ll get the starters.”  
  
Donna sat down and looked out the window.  She loved that she could see the Heath and London from the table.    
  
"What do you think?" asked Benedict from behind her.  "Isn't it just the most extraordinary view? I still can't believe I own this place!  I've been so over the moon ever since I moved in!"  
  
"It's an amazing view!" Donna exclaimed as Benedict placed a chilled glass salad plate in front of her.  "I bet you could see even more of central London from the loft."  
  
"And you'd be correct!" replied Benedict happily as he sat at the table  perpendicular to her, so they could both enjoy the view.  "You can see all of  London over the treetops from the rooftop garden, which I’ll show you later.  It's particularly beautiful at night.  What do you think of the flat itself?"  
  
"It's got lots of potential!  You can dormer the loft and have another floor.  I bet you could get two more bedrooms and another bathroom up there if you did an expansion.  The roof top terrace is a bonus."  
  
Benedict watched Donna eat her salad.  He imagined the two of them making plans, scheming and dreaming of a future together.    
  
_The children's bedrooms could be upstairs with a connecting bath. Maybe the roof terrace could be enlarged, too. It's too soon, Benedict.  Take it slow.  Get her to commit to a relationship first. Then the rest will fall into place._  
  
Donna was surprised at how good the salad was. It was composed of various greens, thinly sliced cucumber, colorful cherry tomatoes that had been halved, topped with Stilton cheese crumbles, candied walnuts, black olives and a sweet, yet tart balsamic cherry dressing.  
  
“This is delicious.  The dressing is especially tasty – I’ve never had cherries in a dressing, but it works well with the tang of the blue cheese.  Very nicely balanced.”  
  
“Glad you like it.  I can’t take credit for any of it though.  Everything came from the farmers market.  I just tossed it all together.”  
  
“These tomatoes are very sweet – are they heirloom?”  
  
Benedict bit his lip and smiled shyly.  “Can’t say for sure. Emmy did mention that the stand had a special sale on them because some idiot woman knocked over the display.”  
  
Donna’s face reddened, as he poured some of the wine into her glass.    
  
_And that idiot was me.  Jesus.  I need to change the subject._  
  
She raised her glass to him.  “To the cook!”  
  
“Thank you,” said Benedict, taking a sip. “This is superb.  You really know your wine.”  
  
Donna laughed.  “I have to know in order to do my job properly.”  
  
_I need to ask her to teach me about wine one day. I hate it when everyone around me knows about the year and the grapes and the soil and I just know if it tastes good to me._  
  
"You know, if you need help decorating, I'd love to offer my services."  
  
Benedict looked around the room and felt the blood rushing to his cheeks. He rubbed the back of his neck.    
  
_Oh God.  I'm done with decorating. She hates it. I just need to unpack that one box in the corner by the desk._  
  
"Well, truth be told,  I just finished getting everything sorted," he said looking embarrassed.  "I just have to unpack that box, which has all my photos and Tchotchkes."

Donna ate some salad and took a sip of wine.

"I was going for an eclectic minimalist look.”  
  
_Oh, no.  This is his idea of decorating.  Keep quiet, Donna.  Just shut up and drink your wine._  
  
"Looks like you've succeeded," she said looking at the room appraisingly.    
  
_That was bitchy, Donna.  Don't hurt his feelings. Say something nice._  
  
"It kind of reminds me of the Tate Modern."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Oh, yes."  
  
Benedict stared at her, trying to read her.    
  
_Sherlock Holmes, I'm not. I'm going to stick with my gut feeling._  
  
"I take it it's not to your taste then?"  
  
Donna looked into those gorgeous blue-green eyes. The brown T-shirt brought out the brown fleck in the right one  She didn't have the heart to tell him; yet she found she couldn't lie to him either.  
  
"Not entirely, but that doesn’t mean it’s right or wrong.  We just have different tastes in furnishings.”  
  
“What don’t you like about it – _specifically_?”  
  
“I find it a bit cold and Spartan."  
  
Benedict cackled and rubbed the back of his neck again.  
  
"My mum said the same thing!  I guess if the two most important women in my life agree, then I happily accept your offer. That would be super.  I can use all the help I can get."  
  
_Oh my God!  He just called me one of the two most important women in his life._  
  
Donna laughed.  
  
"Your mother sounds like a very wise woman.  I think I would like her."  
  
_Let’s not be hasty, my darling,_ thought Benedict Cumberbatch as they finished their salads.  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Benedict lives in Hampstead in North London, supposedly in the Parliament Hill area. The address, description of his home and the surrounding area are all purely imaginary.
> 
> 2\. I imagine him to live in a house similar to this: http://www.rightmove.co.uk/property-for-sale/property-26730480.html. The interiors would be kind of what I envision after Benedict did the renovation, but Donna will do it up a bit differently. 
> 
> 3\. Benedict’s rolltop desk: http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qPRn4JBiPNU/TJ_19TfmdBI/AAAAAAAAAKA/YejLjDd3Umk/s1600/roll-top-desk-with-leather-chair.jpg
> 
> 4\. I have no idea if and how many tickets Benedict would be entitled to for Cabin Pressure guests.
> 
> 5\. Tchotchkes is a Yiddish word for knick-knacks.


	54. Chapter 54

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Benedict and Donna’s dinner continues. Benedict lays his cards on the table with a puzzling twist. A waffling discussion turns serious and leads to disclosures about Benedict’s past.

  
  
“Can I give you a hand?” Donna Saint James asked Benedict Cumberbatch, as he brought their empty salad plates into the kitchen.  
  
“Well, perhaps after dinner,” he replied in a deep, sexy voice.  
  
 _Holy cow!  If things weren’t hot enough in here,_ thought Donna.  _He’s going to start flirting with me._  
  
“I meant with _dinner_.”  
  
“Oh,” he said, sounding a bit disappointed.  
  
 _Be a gentleman, Benedict. You're just having a testosterone surge is all. You’ve waited this long, you can certainly wait until the time is right._  
  
 “Actually, I could use some help. Thanks.”  
  
Donna went into the little kitchen, which felt like an inferno as Benedict opened the oven to retrieve the main course.  She refilled her empty glass with water from the tap and drank it down.  Her bangs felt damp against her forehead.  
  
 _Why doesn’t he put the friggin oven mitts on first, then open the door?_  
  
“If you could slice the bread, that would be brilliant,” he said indicating a long loaf of semolina bread on the countertop beside the oven.  
  
Donna cut the bread into chunky slices, while Benedict pulled on the oven mitts and removed the covered casserole dish from the oven.  She placed the bread into the basket he had set out.  
  
“Do you always cook when it’s this hot?”  She asked, moping the sweat from her brow with her arm.

_I’d better be careful not to drip sweat on the bread.  How embarrassing would that be?_  
  
“Yeah, but I usually use the cook top rather than the oven when it’s just me.”  
  
 _This is why I love my job.  I get to eat out all the time!  No prep and no cleaning up._  
  
Donna nodded and carried the bread to the table.  She suddenly felt a bit dizzy as she braced herself on the table’s edge.    
  
 _Ohhhhh...the room is moving sideways.  If I could just make it over to that fan.  I can sit on the desk chair and cool off in front of the open window._  
  
“Here we are, my famous Tuscan Chicken!” announced Benedict as he brought the steaming casserole dish to the table.  
  
 _That’s odd.  Where is she?  The bread is on the table._  
  
“Donna?  Are you in the loo?” he called.  
  
Then he caught sight of Donna sitting on the floor on the opposite side of the table.  He quickly set down the dish and ran to her side.  She was slumped over, seemingly passed out.  
  
“Donna!  Are you feeling poorly?”  He felt her forehead and wrist.  She felt hot and clammy.  Her eyelids fluttered open and closed again.  
  
“I just need to sit by the fan for a minute,” she said in a low voice.  “It was too far away and the room was spinning, so I sat down here.  As you can see, I missed the chair.”  
  
 _Bollocks!  It’s too bloody hot in here for her!  Oh my fucking God! I need to get her into the air con NOW!_  
  
Benedict scooped Donna up into his arms bridal style and headed towards the hallway.  
  
“Where are we going?”  
  
“My bedroom.”  
  
“Jesus, you are one horny bastard.”  
  
“I’ve got the air con going in there.”  
  
“You’re going to have to wait until I feel better.”  
  
Donna immediately felt the cool air wash over her as soon as he opened the door to the bedroom.  He carried her over to the bed and lay her down carefully on the rumpled sheets.    
  
“Forgive me, but I didn’t have time to make up the bed this morning.  I slept later than I should have,” Benedict said apologetically as he removed her sandals.  “The sheets are clean though...I changed them....recently.”  
  
 _Lesson learned.  Change the bloody sheets once a week, Benedict. Make the fucking bed as soon as you get out of it when you know you’re going to have company.  First, she finds all the bills and crap stuffed into my desk, and now this.  I’m so embarrassed.  She probably thinks I’m a pig.  God, I hope she doesn’t find a reason to look in my wardrobe._  
  
Donna relished the feel of the cool cotton sheets against her hot, sweaty skin.     
  
“Ahhhhhhhh...how delightful!  You should buy a bigger unit for the living room.”  
  
“Don’t move, I’ll be right back,” he said.    
  
 _No chance of that happening. I want to eat dinner in here,_ she thought.  
  
Donna closed her eyes, enjoying the cooling gentle breeze from the portable air con machine.  Then she felt something wet and cold placed on her forehead.  Her eyes snapped open to find Benedict sitting on the edge of the bed.  He had placed a damp washcloth on her forehead.  
  
“Better?”  he asked timidly while rubbing his thighs.  “I thought a cold flannel would help.”    
  
He picked up a glass of cool water from the bedside table and held it against her lips.  
  
“Oh, much, much better!  Thank you for bringing me in here.  It must be a good twenty degrees cooler in here.”  
  
“Maybe I should call a doctor to make sure you’re okay.  My friend, Mark, is a doctor in private practice.  We went to Harrow together.  He lives about five minutes away,”  Benedict rubbed the back of his neck.  “If you’d rather your brother-in-law, I can ring him.”  
  
“There’s no need.  I just had to get in from the heat and cool down.  You did everything a doctor would have done,” Donna said, patting his hand.  
  
“How do you know? How can you be sure? Neither of us has had proper medical training.”  
  
“I earned a first aid badge when I was a Girl Scout,” Donna said proudly. “I happen to know quite a bit about first aid.  Were you a scout?”  
  
“Nope,” he laughed.  “I was busy playing rugby, going to music lessons and trying to get an art scholarship.  My best friend, Adam, was a scout. I bet he has one of those badges, too.”  
  
Benedict leaned over and adjusted the flannel on her forehead.  He rubbed small circles on her wrist.  
  
“I don’t understand how this could have happened.  I worked at Disney World in the summers while I was in their college program.  I _can_ tolerate heat and humidity. I was drinking fluids and dressed lightly.”  
  
“I feel awful, Donna.  We should have gone out when it got like this...the forecast really wasn’t calling for it to get this hot,” Benedict said, wringing his hands.  “I should have made something cold, but I was so determined to impress you with my cooking.  I’m such a dolt.”  
  
“You’re not a dolt – whatever that is, I’m sure you’re not.  I think it’s sweet that you want to impress me, and I appreciate it.  You’re the first man who has ever cooked a meal for me.  None of the other men I’ve dated could even make a decent cup of coffee,” she laughed.  
  
 _Oh, oh. I’ve been told I make rubbish coffee...by just about everyone but Jimmy because he thinks he’s drinking espresso, and I just let him think that._  
  
“I’m going to get you some more cold water.  I’ll be right back.”    
  
He was out of the room in a flash before she could protest.    
  
 _I thought he had calmed down, but he’s still anxious._  
  
Donna took a minute to take stock of his bedroom.  She was lying in a king-sized, bed with an upholstered headboard and no foot board.  The expensive-looking white on white striped sheets were wrinkled from Benedict sleeping on them.  The soft, down-filled pillows her head rested on smelled like his hair and cologne. There were small, mismatched  tables on each side of the bed with lamps that looked perfect for reading in bed.  There was a free-standing closet to the left of the bed and a dresser and chaise lounge chair on the right. Directly across from the bed was a gas fireplace flanked by two good-sized windows.  
  
 _This is cool!  You can see the Heath and London from the bed!_  
  
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, inhaling Benedict’s scent.  
  
 _I love how he smells...citrusy, a bit spicy, a touch of musk....such a nice, comforting scent._  
  
Benedict returned with a glass of cool water.  Donna hadn’t moved.  Her eyes were still closed.  He involuntarily shivered from the temperature in the room.  
  
 _Fuck!  It’s getting too cold in here.  I don’t want her to catch a chill._  
  
Benedict adjusted the air con temperature and pulled up the lightweight blanket over Donna, tucking it around her tightly.  Her eyes flew open.  
  
“What are you doing?”  
  
“I don’t want you to catch a chill.  It was getting too cold in here.”  
  
“It was perfect the way it was,” she said sitting up and pulling the blanket off of her.    
  
“We’re definitely not compatible when it comes to how hot or cold to keep the flat,” remarked Benedict with a bit of annoyance.  “I can see sleeping with you isn’t going to be a treat.”  
  
Donna blinked at him and shook her head.  
  
“Excuse me?  Who said I was going to sleep with you?”  
  
 _Motherfucker.  My mouth filter is out of order tonight._  
  
Benedict’s face turned beet red.  “Erm...I was just thinking if we ever got to the point where we were having.....you know....if we were that is....I’m not saying that we're going to, but if we were...going to be... _intimate_...we would be sharing a bed.. wouldn’t we?  I never could see the sense in wanting to get up and dash off after a good shag.”  He abruptly stopped talking and looked down at his feet.  
  
 _Shut up, Benedict!  You’re waffling away about things you’re not ready to discuss just yet._  
  
 _What the fuck is this man babbling about?  Oh! He might be referring to when we start to have sex. He prefers to sleep over afterwards at each others apartments. I’m on board with that certainly, but it sounds like there’s more to it than just that._  
  
“And?”  Donna prodded.  “I’m not sure I’m following you, Ben.”  
  
Benedict rubbed the back of his neck.  “Well, if we were sleeping together, I’m afraid we’d be having rows about how hot or cold to keep the room and how to cover the bed and...well, you know....these are things that have to be sorted out between two people.”  
  
Donna stared at him and laughed.  “I was hoping we could have dinner before we got into a discussion of how we are going to survive in a bed together.”  
  
Benedict jumped up.  “Oh, for fucks sake!  Dinner!  Yes!  It’s all ready. Shall we eat it in here then?  I can straighten up the bed, and we can sit back against the headboard.  It’s quite comfy....and much cooler for you.”  
  
“I was about to suggest that.  Great idea. You can get the food, and I’ll straighten out the bed,” said Donna.  
  
 _And turn down the temperature as soon as you leave the room. It’s getting a bit too warm in here._  
  
Benedict paused at the door and turned back to face her.  “Erm....I _am_ in the habit of making up the bed everyday....it’s just that today things kind of got away from me.”  
  
The corners of Donna’s mouth turned up in a tiny smirk. _Of course they did.  I know deep down inside that you rarely make the bed.  You’ve carefully hidden everything in the living room and kitchen, but this room speaks volumes about you. You are not the most organized person._  
  
 _Oh, Benedict.  If you get together, she’s going to realize that the duvet only makes it onto the bed when it’s cold out and spends most of the summer on the floor._  
  
As soon as he left the room, Donna adjusted the temperature on the air con unit.  Then she smoothed the sheets and pulled up the lightweight cotton blanket over them. She neatly tucked in all the edges and fluffed up the pillows against the headboard, so they could sit side-by-side.  Then she spied the matching comforter in a heap on the floor, beside the dresser.    
  
 _What a shame!  Such a nice comforter!  I’m going to fold it and lay it across the foot of the bed._  
  
Once that was done, Donna looked at the dresser top.  It was littered with Benedict’s wallet, keys, a pair of sunglasses, some envelopes, loose papers and a couple of scripts – one for the Miss Marple movie and one for a play called the Turning Point. However, it was the cigarette lighter and pack of Marlboro Lights that caught her attention.  
  
 _Shit.  I thought he doesn’t smoke. Why would he have a lighter and cigarettes? I have a feeling Benedict hasn’t been completely honest with me when he says he no longer smokes and that could be a problem._  
  
Donna crossed the room and looked at the bed.  _I bet there’s lots of interesting stuff hidden under here._ Upon closer inspection, she found to her great relief that it was a platform bed.  
  
The closet door was slightly ajar.  Donna moved closer to it. She could see a pair of well-worn navy blue corduroy slippers sticking out and what appeared to be a leg from a pair of jeans.  
  
 _I shouldn’t be so nosy, but I’d love to see what he keeps in there._  
  
Donna carefully opened the door to the closet and was greeted with a small avalanche of clothing that was now littered about her bare feet.    
  
 _Shit! I was right!  He hides all his junk away.   I’ve got to get this stuff back in there before he comes back._  
  
Donna bent down and began to pick up the clothing and put it back in the closet.    
  
 _Thank God most of his clothes are on hangars. All this must be clothing he was wearing and had tossed on the floor during the week. Stuffing it all in here must be his idea of tidying up for company._    _Let’s see...black dress pants – he wore these to the book shop. These are the dark rinse jeans he wore the other night and the shirt I threw up on.  These slippers have seen better days. Here’s the shirt and pants he had on today. Hmmm...I’ve never seen these gray sweat pants and matching top before.  Oh, ho! What do I see? Yes! Owl socks!  How cute – the owls are dressed for the gym!  That’s everything._  
  
As Donna was about to close the door to the closet, Benedict entered the room, holding the napkins and their wine glasses.  Donna slammed it shut, jumped back and quickly crossed the room to take the glasses from him.  She wore a guilty expression on her face.  
  
 _Am I seeing things or did she just close my wardrobe?  Fuck!  She did – my slippers had gotten caught when I closed the door earlier.  Now, she’ll think I wear dirty clothes all the time._  
  
 _He caught me.  Why couldn’t I mind my own business?_  
  
“Find what you were looking for, yes?” Benedict indicated the wardrobe.  
  
“I’m sorry.  I saw the slippers were caught, and I just pushed them back inside.”  
  
Benedict walked over to the wardrobe and opened the door.  
  
 _Jesus Christ!  She folded my dirty laundry and made a neat pile. Isn't that just a bit OCD?_  
  
 _Busted.  Why can’t I just leave things alone?_  
  
“Thanks for putting my laundry in order,” said Benedict scooping up the pile in his arms. “I’ll just pop this in the laundry room on my way back to the kitchen.”  
  
“I’m really sorry for looking in your closet.  My..... curiosity got the best of me.”  
  
Benedict gave an uncomfortable laugh as he paused to look back at her over his shoulder.  
  
“I’m feeling a bit flustered that you found my dirty laundry in there.  I really don’t store it in the wardrobe.  I’ve got a proper hamper for soiled clothes in the laundry room...well, it isn’t a room exactly.  It’s more like an alcove with pocket doors across the hall from the loo. Every night I kept getting home very late and was so completely knackered that I undressed and just fell into bed.”  
  
 _Another lesson learned.  Put your damn laundry in the fucking hamper as soon as you get undressed._

_That means he either sleeps nude or in his underwear._  
  
“So, about the chicken - what’s your preference, white or dark meat?” he asked.  
  
“I don’t have one.  They both have their good points,” replied Donna.  “Surprise me.”  
  
Benedict smiled saucily at her.  “Oh, I will.  Promise.”  
  
  
  
  
After dinner, Benedict had given Donna a tour of the third floor loft and his rooftop garden.  Unfortunately, his plans to have pudding up there were quaffed by a steady rain that had begun to fall.  The one plus was that the temperature had dropped substantially, and they were able to sit in the lounge.  They sat side-by-side on the couch gazing at the distant lights of London.  Donna rested her head on Benedict's shoulder as they held hands.  Benedict had dimmed the lights and put on a Sigur Ros CD.    
  
“That was a delicious dinner, Benedict,” said Donna.  “You can cook for me anytime.”  
  
He gave her a big smile that showed his dimples.  “I take that as the highest compliment coming from a food critic.”  
  
“You should,” Donna laughed.  “Seriously, the chicken was so moist and juicy inside, yet you managed to keep the skin crispy.  I love how the potatoes and cipollini onions picked up the flavor of the lemon and olive oil.  The spicing was just right – just a touch of garlic and a hint of thyme.  Mmmmm.”  
  
 _I’m so relieved that she liked it.  Anna said it had too much olive oil when I made it for her.  Olivia always liked it._  
  
“That semolina bread was just perfect for sopping up the juices.”  
  
“I didn’t bake the bread, so I can’t take credit for it,” he chuckled.  
  
Donna laughed and snuggled closer to him.  
  
"So what do you really think of my flat?" asked Benedict as he buried his nose in her hair. He sniffed and tried to guess what the scent was.  
  
 _Good Lord!  He's smelling my hair. It must reek of dried sweat and my shampoo.  Eck!_  
  
"Are you smelling my hair?"  
  
Benedict stopped and looked down at her.  He laughed nervously.  
  
"Erm...uh..yeah.  You caught me!  I'm not weird or anything.  I was just trying to figure out the scent of your shampoo.  I worked in a perfumery while I was saving up for my gap year. My nose is very sensitive."  
  
Donna shook her head and laughed.  
  
"Okay. Show me how good you are.”  
  
“And I thought you wanted pudding first, you naughty girl.”  
  
“Stop that!  You know full well what I meant. What scent does your nose detect?"  
  
Benedict sniffed again.  "Lavender definitely.... and there's a definite citrus note...I'd say it was lime."  
  
“You _are_ good with your nose.”  
  
“I’m even better with my mouth.”  
  
“So you keep hinting at.  The view is spectacular, by the way.”  
  
 _And she deftly changes the subject,_ he thought.    
  
"I love the view," said Benedict wistfully. “As you saw, I've got my bed positioned so I can wake up to that view every morning."  
  
 _I wonder what it would be like to wake up beside him in that bed,_ Donna thought. _I wish I hadn't sweated so much. I know I won't smell very appealing down south._  
  
“It’s such a nice area.  I had no idea an enclave like this existed so close to central London.”  
  
Benedict continued listing the attributes of the area as he twirled her ponytail between his long fingers.    
  
"It's near the tube and Overground. Bus service is great.  All the schools have a fine reputation.  You couldn't ask for a better location to raise a family," he added with a grin. "That's why I decided to leave Shepherds Bush and live here."  
  
 _He’s definitely trying to sell me on the area.  Oh!  I almost forgot.  He wanted to have a talk tonight.  He must be leading up to it in his own adorable waffle-y way._  
  
"It's a very classy neighborhood, Benedict," remarked Donna. "It took me just over ten minutes to walk from the tube station, and that was going uphill all the way. I notice this is one of the houses with a garage. Do you and the other tenant share it?" she asked.  
  
"I don’t rent. I _own_ this place. I bought it last New Year’s Eve for 475 thousand pounds. Unfortunately, the garage was not part of the deal. I keep my motorbike in the back corner of the garden for the time being.  I've got it secured under a tarp," replied Benedict.  "I've also got a reserved resident space in front of the house.  Just enough room to squeeze my car into.  Bob bought his flat first, so the garage was part of his deal."  
  
 _I sound like a bloody realtor. Time is flying, and I need to bring up making a commitment to each other. I wish I wasn’t starting to get so nervous. Just because I think she feels the same way doesn’t necessarily mean that she does. What if she says no?_  
  
“Are you ready for your special pudding, Donna?”  
  
“Yes!  I’ve been thinking about it all day.”    
  
 _Now I wonder if we’re talking about the same kind of dessert._  
  
“Since it was so hot out, I decided to make something cold rather than warm and sticky.”  
  
 _He’s talking about food._ _Otherwise, I'd have to ask to use his shower first.  I want to feel fresh and clean if we're going to do anything._  
  
 _Oh, Benedict.  You lie like a rug.  You used up your time having the catch up coffee with Dee.  Hopefully, I can bullshit my way out of it._  
  
“Coffee or tea?”  
  
“If you don’t mind, I’ll stick with the iced tea, please.”  
  
“Fine.  How about we try sitting at the table for pudding?”  
  
Donna took a seat at the table while Benedict went to the refrigerator and removed two wide martini glasses that were filled with what appeared to be a layered dessert.  He brought them to the table and set one in front of her.  
  
 _Please don’t ask me what it is.  I just threw it together when I got home.  I don’t even know if it tastes good or not. I hope she doesn’t mind a bit of liqueur in it. Liqueur is always good at making the worst drek taste good._  
  
Donna inspected the contents of the glass while Benedict busied himself with getting their beverages.  Soon she could smell coffee brewing.  
  
Hmmmm...looks like chocolate cake, fudge sauce, whipped cream, cherry pie filling or some kind of cherries in sauce...that looks like chocolate pudding or mousse. I definitely smell Chocolate-cherry liqueur....a lot of chocolate-cherry liqueur.  He must like boozy desserts.  OH!  I know what it is!  
  
“Oooo you made me Black Forest trifle!  How creative!”  
  
 _Yes, by God!  It’s got all the components of Black Forest cake. That’ll work. Wait...I can make it one better.  This will surely impress her even more._  
  
“I _prefer_ to call it Deconstructed Black Forest cake,” said Benedict smugly as he sat down and smiled at her.  “It’s my signature dessert.”  
  
 _Phew!  She really does look impressed. I hope it tastes okay._  
  
Donna took a spoonful.  “Oh, this _is_ fabulous!  The cake is so moist and the fudge sauce is very yummy.  I love anything with chocolate and cherries."  
  
 _Bless the bakers at Sainsbury who make those little single layer chocolate cakes in the foil tins.  It didn’t take all that long to scrape the frosting off the top. Melting the frosting in the microwave was genius.  It really does taste like fudge sauce._ _That and the liqueur apparently covered up the taste of the ready-made chocolate pudding._  
  
Benedict sighed with relief as he drank some hot coffee.  Donna watched him closely.  
  
“How is it that you didn’t break a sweat the whole time I’ve been here?  It’s making me crazy!”  
  
Benedict put down his spoon and considered her question.  “I think I’m just used to it, is all.  When you said how hot it was before, I kept thinking you would never survive one of my yoga classes.”  
  
“I’ve done yoga,” scoffed Donna.  “And I’ve never broken a sweat doing it.”  
  
Benedict snickered.  “I practice Bikram Yoga or hot yoga.”  
  
Donna frowned.  “I’m not familiar with it.”  
  
“Its hotter in the classroom than it was in here today, and I assure you that I sweat quite a bit there. So, you can rest easy.  I definitely do sweat.”  
  
“Oh, that doesn’t sound like something I’d enjoy,” she said.  “Is that how you exercise?”  
  
“Partly.  I’m doing it mostly for _Sherlock_.  I can’t be too muscular for the role.  They want me to keep lean, so I’m limited to what I can do.  I also swim in the ponds on the Heath and do some running.  What do you do?”  
  
“Exercise bike and walking mainly.  Sometimes Zumba classes.”  
  
 _Stop waffling about exercise, Benedict.  Just broach the subject and be done with it._  
  
“I’m impressed,” said Donna as she licked her spoon.  “This is really delicious.  You’ll have to give me the recipe.”  
  
 _It’s simple. Go to the grocery and buy ready-made everything. Layer into fancy glasses, douse with liqueur, chill and pray for the best.  Voila._  
  
Benedict finished his ‘trifle’ and sat back in his chair.  
  
 _It’s time, Benedict.  Ask her about committing to you._  
  
 _He’s talking about everything but us.  I know he wants to talk about us and the future....or sex.  Maybe he’s ready to take our relationship to the next level...but we don’t have a relationship.  I’m not going to have casual sex with him even though I want to, I have to be sensible._  
  
“So, what did you want to talk about, Benedict?” asked Donna, as she blotted her lips with the napkin.  “You said you wanted to have a serious talk tonight.”  
  
 _She beat me to it. Okay.  It’s now or never._  
  
“I’m going to be very frank with you, Donna.  I’m not going to sugar-coat it,” he began in a serious tone. “I’m just going to say what I feel at the risk of possibly pissing you off.”  
  
 _That doesn’t sound good.  He did say it wasn’t anything bad...I bet he wants to start having sex.  That has to be it._  
  
 _She’s looking at me warily.  I bet she thinks I’m going to ask for that blow job she promised me._  
  
“I really hate that you’re dating other people besides me.”  
  
Donna suddenly felt her heart beating faster and her palms got sweaty.  
  
 _Oh, I should have seen this coming...back to James and the open dating. He’s going to ask me to stop seeing James.  Mr. Cumberbatch is zeroing in on asking for a commitment.  I can sense it.  He looks very nervous. He’s rubbing his thigh under the table._  
  
“You make it sound like I’m dating the Royal Navy.  I’m only seeing James and you.”  
  
 _She can be such a smart-ass,_ he thought, absentmindedly rubbing his thigh.  
  
Benedict sighed. “Okay.  James then.  I don’t like that you’re dating James and me at the same time.  I care for you very much, Donna... my feelings for you are very strong. Every time you are with him, I get this awful feeling in the pit of my stomach.  I literally feel sick.”  
  
“You sound jealous to me.”  
  
“For fucks sake! I’m _not_ jealous! Damn it!  I’m.....old fashioned when it comes to dating...I like getting to know one person at a time. I’m not happy with this arrangement.”  
  
Donna regarded him with a raised eyebrow. “And you’re not at all jealous?”  
  
Benedict threw up his hands.  “You’re right.  I’m terribly jealous.  I told you once before that I want to be the only man in your life.  I still feel that way.”  
  
“You’ve made comments similar to this the night of the concert. Exactly where are you going with this?”  
  
 _It’s not about sex. This is definitely something more serious._  
  
“I’ve reached the point where I want to be in a committed relationship with you.  I don’t want either of us to see anyone else....just each other.”  
  
Donna looked shocked.  “Wait a minute! You’ve been seeing someone else, too?  Have you been seeing that Heather?”  She regarded him with narrowed eyes.  
  
 _'That' Heather?  Hmmm...looks like I’m not the only one who’s jealous._  
  
“For fucks sake, Donna! No!  I have no interest in Heather. This whole open dating thing is bollocks as far as I’m concerned. I’ve never dated more than one woman at a time.  I just want one woman in my life.  And that woman is you.”  
  
Donna’s heart was beating wildly, and she was thrilled at his words.  
  
“Just to be clear:  You want to be an official couple?  Boyfriend and girlfriend?”  
  
“Yeah.  And I want _more_ than that,” he blurted out.  “I want us to have a future together...like we discussed at the Golden Fleece.  I was talking about us, and I know you knew what I was getting at. Do you want to be in a relationship with me?  Do you want us to have a future together?”  
  
“YES!  I’ve been hoping this was what you wanted.  My feelings for you are also very deep, and I’d like nothing more than to see if we can have a future together.  I want us to be in a committed relationship more than anything.  I don’t want to date anyone else, Benedict, but you.”    
  
Benedict smiled widely at her as he leaned across the corner of the table to kiss her.   Donna returned the kiss and squeezed his hand tightly.  She smiled at him, feeling greatly relieved.  
  
“So, this was what you meant by sorting things out between us?”  
  
“ _Mostly_.”  
  
“Mostly?”  
  
“Not entirely.”  
  
“You’re waffling, Benedict.  Spit it out for fucks sake!”  
  
“ _You_ need to sort things out with Jimmy first.  Then we can move on.”  
  
“Is that all? There’s no need to worry.  I’ll tell him about us Monday over coffee or lunch.  I’m sure he’ll understand and there will be no hard feelings.”  
  
“That’s not _exactly_ what I meant, Donna.  I want _you_ to be _absolutely_ sure you have no feelings for him...other than those of friendship, of course.”  
  
“Benedict, I’ve done a lot of thinking about you and Jimmy.  My feelings for Jimmy are more like those for a friend.  The feelings I have for you are very different...those are romantic feelings.”  
  
Benedict sighed.  “You’ve dated me longer than Jimmy.  We’ve spent more time together. You haven’t really gotten a chance to know him.  I want you to be absolutely sure that I’m the one you want to be with before we embark on a relationship.”  
  
 _Wait a minute. I thought we just embarked.  Am I in the freaking Twilight Zone?   Didn’t we just commit to each other? We even sealed it with a kiss._  
  
“You’re losing me, Benedict.  What are you getting at?”  
  
“I think you should continue to date Jimmy while I’m away before you make a one hundred percent commitment to me.”  
  
 _Jesus Christ!  Where is this man coming from?  Either you want a commitment or you don’t. Hold that temper, Donna.  Try to get through to him again without going off half-cocked.._  
  
“Benedict...I just made a one hundred percent commitment to you.  Were you not listening?”  
  
“Yes, and I’m totally over the moon about it. I just want _you_ to be sure.”  
  
“This is crazy!  I _am_ sure!  I just told you that I don’t want to date him any more.  I rather doubt he’ll be crushed – I firmly believe Hattie’s the one he wants deep down inside. At this point, I think you two are too caught up in this dumb schoolboy competition.”  
  
Benedict crinkled his nose and gave her his best heart-melting smile.

“Can you _please_ humour me, Donna?  It’s just for three weeks.” 

He stroked her cheek with his thumb and lightly kissed the tip of her nose, followed by her lips.  
  
“How about you humoring _me_ , Benedict?  Didn’t you just tell me how jealous you are of Jimmy dating me or was that someone else?  You should be relieved that I told you that you’re the man for me.  You won! The way I see it, the game is over. You should be relieved and happy.”  
  
“I assure you – I’m completely over the moon and _mostly_ relieved.”  
  
Donna slapped the palm of her hand on the table. 

“There's that word again! _Mostly_? You’re confusing the shit out of me.”  
  
 _Jesus Christ! He’s got a neurotic streak.  Perhaps I should back off for three weeks and rethink this commitment thing._  
  
Benedict sighed.  “Perhaps I’m not conveying my feelings adequately....”  
  
Donna was feeling frustrated, and she took his hand in hers.

“Did something happen to make you not trust my decision?  Do you think I wasn’t being sincere?  Do you think I was giving you lip service about having a future together? Did I give you reason to feel that I may change my mind and go to Jimmy?”  
  
“I’m sorry for being....a bit neurotic about this.....”  
  
 _A bit? Oh, he’s way more than a bit.  Maybe insecure is a more accurate description._  
  
“You see I haven’t been in a lot of serious relationships, so I guess I’m still feeling a bit insecure....as if this is too good to be true.  I just don’t want anything to go wrong this time.  I want this to be forever.”  
  
 _Well done, you.  Now, she’ll think you’re needy and insecure in addition to being a bit neurotic._  
  
“Benedict, exactly how many serious relationships have you had?”  
  
“One.”  
  
“One?”  
  
Benedict rubbed the back of his neck. _I suppose Anna counts as a serious relationship._

“Ermmm....maybe two.  Yeah.  Let’s say two.”  
  
“Okay.  Two.  How long did they last?  Did they end badly?”  
  
“The first one lasted twelve years.”

Donna was squeezing some lemon into her iced tea and dropped the wedge into the glass at his words.  She stared at Benedict in disbelief.  
  
 _Twelve years?????_   Holy shit!  He was with someone for _twelve years_ , and it didn’t work out???  
  
“I guess you could say the other one was a typical rebound romance that lasted about a year.”  
  
 _A dozen years.  That’s more than a freaking decade.  I’m shocked. Utterly shocked._  
  
“I suppose you have questions.”  
  
 _You better believe I do!  Holy cow!  I don’t even know where to begin._  
  
Donna got up and began to pace in front of the window.  
  
“Exactly how long have you been single?”  
  
“Two years.”  
  
 _Okay.  That’s long enough for him to have gotten over it.  I hope._  
  
“Twelve years is a long time to be in a relationship with someone.  Some marriages don’t even last that long.”  
  
Benedict nodded in agreement. “Yeah. It was a long time. In reality, it was probably more like ten years because we took a couple of breaks here and there.”  
  
 _A couple of breaks here and there.  That means it was one of those on again/off again relationships.  I wish we had discussed this sooner.  I really need to know the details._  
  
“Would you tell me about it...about her?  I’m curious as to what went wrong.”  
  
Benedict got up and poured himself another cup of coffee to which he added cream and demerara sugar.  He gestured to Donna that they should sit in the lounge.  She took her iced tea and sat on the couch after removing her sandals and tucking her bare feet underneath her.  Benedict stood by the open window with his coffee cup in hand, looking down at the darkened garden below.    
  
“Olivia and I met at the University of Manchester. We were both studying drama and wound up cast in a production of _Amadeus_.  There was an immediate attraction....call it a chemistry that transcended our work on the stage.  After a few dates, we became inseparable.”  
  
“So, you were college sweethearts. Were you engaged to her?”  
  
“No.  Never officially. I’ve always been rather broody and was very anxious to settle down and raise a family.  Of course that was out of the question while we were both still in school. I was two years ahead of her, so I enrolled in LAMDA while she finished up at Manchester. I proposed right after she graduated.”  
  
“She turned you down?”  
  
“Yeah.  She said we were too young and just starting out.  There was no way she was ready to be a wife or mother yet.  Olivia insisted we had to put our careers first before even thinking about marriage and children. Anyway, she began looking for work.  I already had an agent, so I had been working steady right out of school.  Olivia had a harder time landing roles.”  
  
“Is she still acting?”  
  
Benedict smiled. “Oh, yes.  Olivia acts and writes.  She’s a very talented woman.”  
  
“What’s her last name?”  
  
“Poulet.”  
  
“Never heard of her,” mused Donna.  
  
“You never heard of _me_ either,” smirked Benedict, as he sipped some coffee.  
  
“So, what went wrong?”  
  
“It was always assumed that one day we’d marry and start a family – by us, our families and friends.  The only question was when.  Liv was perfectly content to carry on as we were.  She kept saying there was no rush.  I, on the other hand, was dying to get married and have kids of my own.  I had my own agenda, which had me a dad by the time I was 32.”  
  
“And here you are, just shy of 33.”  
  
“Yeah. So much for the best laid plans,” Benedict laughed bitterly.  “Every so often, I would get restless and push the issue.  Then she’d get pissed off and push back.  Neither of us wanted to compromise, so we’d break up for a bit until things cooled down.  No matter what happened, I always felt secure in her love and her promise that we would be together forever.”  
  
“In a nutshell:  You were pushing for marriage; and she was holding you off.”  
  
“Barrister, you’re leading the witness.  I may have to start calling you Barrister Bea if his keeps up,” teased Benedict.  
  
“Barrister Ben and Barrister Bea.  That has a nice ring to it. It’s kind of cute.”  
  
“No, it _isn’t_.  I was being sarcastic,” said Benedict, rolling his eyes.  
  
“Do I have it right?  About you and Olivia. You were in a hurry to settle down, and she wasn’t?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“And this went on for twelve years?”  
  
“Pretty much.”  
  
“I have a feeling there’s more to it than that.”  
  
“There is.”  
  
“Care to share it with me?”  
  
Benedict hesitated.  “I’m not sure I’m ready to go into this, Donna...it’s getting late.”  
  
Donna looked at her watch. “It’s not _that_ late.”  
  
“It will be when I’m done. I don’t want you taking the tube back that late alone, so I’ll drive you home.  Then I’ve got to come back to do the washing up. I’ve got work tomorrow.”  
  
 _I’m willing to bet money that you have no intention of cleaning up until tomorrow night or Monday morning._  
  
Donna ignored him. She got up and started to clear the table.    
  
“You were kind enough to cook such a delicious dinner for me, the least I can do to show my thanks is to help you clean up.  How about you tell me the rest, while we do the dishes together?”  
  
  
  
  
Donna and Benedict sat side-by-side on the couch.  He had just finished telling her about the night he was car jacked in South Africa while filming _To the Ends of the Earth_.  She could see the man was visibly shaken, and tears ran down his cheeks as he related the story to her.  Donna had been moved to tears herself by his horrifying story.  
  
“That must have been such an awful ordeal!  I’m so glad you all managed to survive,” she said, pulling him into an embrace. “That must have been so scary.”  
  
Benedict sat still as he accepted her comforting hug.  Then he sat back, wiped his eyes and ran his hand through his curly auburn hair.  
  
“Yeah, it was.  I made sure to get counseling right away, and it really helped me to cope and accept what had happened.”  
  
“How about Denise and Theo? Do you still keep in touch with them?”  
  
“They got counseling afterwards and are both fine.  We’ve managed to keep in touch by email.  As a matter of fact, I ran into Dee yesterday; and we had a catch up coffee. It was so good to see her.  We will always have that bond between us I suppose.”  
  
They sat quietly for a couple of minutes while Benedict composed himself.  
  
“I’m sorry, Benedict.  I didn’t mean for you to get so upset,” began Donna.  
  
Benedict held up a hand.  “No. It’s fine. I’m not adverse to talking about it.  It’s just an exhausting anecdote to tell – physically and emotionally.  It’s part of what shaped me into who I am today.  You definitely needed to know about it in order to have a better understanding of what motivates me at times.”  
  
“Olivia and your parents must have been beside themselves when they got word.”  
  
“My parents flew down right away.  I needed their support, and they were there for me as they always have been.”  
  
“And Olivia?”  
  
Benedict leaned his head against the back of he couch and closed his eyes.  
  
“She didn’t come because she had broken up with me right before I left for the shoot.”  
  
Donna raised her eyebrows.  “I still would have come if I were her...especially after all the history between you two.”  
  
 _That’s because you have a softer heart than Olivia does.  I have no doubt that you would have taken the first flight out to be by my side._  
  
Benedict sighed deeply.  “Things were starting to get a bit rocky again...”  
  
 _Starting to get?  Sounds like they were always rocky to me!_  
  
“......I was getting a lot of work – stage, films, telly.  Sometimes I’d have to go on location and be gone for a week or so.  Olivia wasn’t happy with all the travelling, and when she heard that this shoot was going to last four months in South Africa....”  
  
 _The shit hit the fan,_ thought Donna. _Once again. I could never be in a relationship like that. There wasn’t much stability._  
  
“....she made it clear that she wasn’t happy about it.  We wound up having quite a row over it.  _To the Ends of the Earth_ was a starring role, and something I really wanted to do.  My agent also felt it was important for my career to do.  Olivia was very unsupportive and begged me not to go.  She felt it was going to be the undoing of us.”  
  
 _Sounds like you two were already undone way before the movie, but who am I to say?_  
  
“Olivia could have gone with you,” said Donna curtly.  “She could have done some writing while you were working.”  
  
 _If that were me, I would have found a way to have gone with you._  
  
“She had just landed the female lead in a made for telly film called _Whatever Love Means_ about Prince Charles and Camilla Parker Bowles, so she couldn’t.  Anyway, she tossed me out right before I left for the shoot.  I was totally heart-broken.”  
  
“Sounds like your filming schedules were starting to come between you,” observed Donna.  “I guess it isn’t easy to be separated, but if you were a business man who traveled extensively, it would be similar.”    
  
Benedict smiled and nodded.  “Like my brother-in-law, Derrick.  He travels quite frequently on business, yet he and my half-sister have a very strong and loving marriage.”  
  
“Your parents are both actors.  I’m sure they have had their share of scheduling conflicts, and seem to have worked things out.”  
  
 _Hmmm...maybe that’s why Wanda’s in the picture.  She was there to soothe your father while your mother was away filming or vice-versa._  
  
“Believe it or not, it didn’t happen often.  Most of their jobs were here in London – and still are.  They’ve also been lucky enough to work together sometimes on the same show or film.  Whenever one of them has to be on location, they’ve always managed to keep it together.  There were never any domestics over it. As a matter of fact, my mum is just starting a location shoot this coming week.  She’ll be gone for two weeks doing a film. My dad was over the moon for her...”  
  
 _Of course he was.  All that free time on his hands to indulge in his illicit little love affair._  
  
“...and the great thing is that he’ll carry on just fine without her.  He’ll find plenty of things to entertain himself with.”  
  
 _And I bet one of those things is named Wanda Ventham._  
  
“Oh, how exciting!” said Donna.  “What’s the name of the movie?”  
  
“ _Asylum_.  It’s a psychological thriller of sorts.”  
  
 _Jeez...did I just go off track like he does?  I’m starting to waffle.  Back on track, Donna._  
  
“Benedict, I really have no right to pass judgement because I’ve never met Olivia; but a part of me feels she wasn’t being very understanding.  Did she at least contact you once you came home?”  
  
Benedict rubbed the back of his neck and his face coloured a bit.

“Ermm...I didn’t come home straight away after the film wrapped.”  
  
Donna looked at him with a raised eyebrow.   _I sense there’s more coming._  
  
“I realized that I had been given a second chance at living, and I intended to live a life that wasn’t ordinary.  I wanted to embrace each day to the fullest, so I stayed on in Swakopmund.”  
  
“Oh, you wanted to spend some time alone.  I guess I could understand that.”  
  
Benedict grimaced.  “Well, actually, I stayed so I could take up some fairly dare-devil sports.  I wound up enjoying it so much, I became an adrenaline junkie.”  
  
“What kind of dare-devil sports are we talking about here, Benedict?”  
  
“I did all kinds of crazy things from sky-diving and hot-air ballooning to hang gliding and swimming with sharks.  I felt so alive, Donna! As soon as I got home, I went out and bought my motorbike so I could still get that rush.”  
  
“I take it you and Olivia got together again.”  
  
Benedict smiled sadly and nodded.  
  
“Yeah, but not right away.  It took me the better part of a year to reassure and convince her to give us another try.  Then we decided to try living together, to see if it would bring us closer together.”  
  
“For some reason I was under the impression that you had been living together all this time.”  
  
“Nope.  Olivia said she needed her own space, so we maintained separate flats.”  
  
 _I wonder if he was driving her crazy, and she needed to be away from him to keep her own sanity? He can be very intense at times._ _This also explains his earlier comment about leaving right after sex._  
  
“We wound up renting a tiny, one-bedroom flat here in Hampstead – not this one obviously.  Everything was going so well.  I was continuing to get more and better roles, while she stagnated."

_Hmmmm...things were getting better for **you** \- not for her._  

"Of course, the subject of marriage continued to come up because I just don’t know when to turn on my fucking mouth filter.”  
  
 _Truer words were never spoken. That really should be engraved on a plaque and hung over his desk._  
  
“However, this time Olivia said that she was wary of marrying me because the experience in South Africa had changed me. She wanted us to remain as we were for the time being.”  
  
“How could something like that not change you? You could have been hurt or killed!”  
  
“She pointed out that I had become more impatient than ever and was taking unnecessary risks – like the skydiving and the motorbike riding.”  
  
 _He’s certainly impatient.  The skydiving doesn’t thrill me, but he seems to be over it.  He drove very carefully on the motorcycle but that may have been because I was with him.  I don’t know how he drives when he’s alone._  
  
“Do you consider that the beginning of the end of the relationship?”  
  
Benedict nodded.  “When I look back, yeah. Absolutely.  Things had definitely changed between us.  We weren’t talking as much or spending quality time together.  We were more like roommates than lovers. Our sex life was almost non-existent; and when we did make love, it was as if we were just going through the motions.  There was no feeling behind it.  We were just doing it to get each other off.  The domestics continued and escalated.  Then my best friend, Adam, told me he was getting married, and asked me to be his Best Man.  I was over the moon for him, yet so fucking jealous at the same time.  Here I was in a relationship for so many years, and we still weren’t formally engaged.  I sat Olivia down, and we had a very long talk about the future.  She insisted she still loved me, but didn’t necessarily see herself married to me or having my children.  She was no longer sure she wanted to even get married or have children with me or anyone else.”  
  
“Wow!  That must have been a shock.  After all that time you spent together, and she changes her mind.”  
  
“I was terribly upset, hurt and confused.  I felt angry and betrayed. I had never considered that we could ever wind up going down different paths.  Everything was just going so well or so I deceived myself into believing. I guess it was more like I deluded myself. I had thought we had an understanding that we would marry and have a family eventually.  Over the years we had discussed wedding venues and where we’d like to honeymoon and buy a house....it was all planned out – except for taking that last step and making a formal commitment.  I had no idea things were going to end like they did.  It was like having the rug pulled out from under me. I had even gone out and bought an engagement ring.”  
  
“Was there another man perhaps?”  
  
“No.  We were faithful to each other while we were together.  However, we did date other people during the periods when we weren’t; but nothing ever came of it. We always gravitated back to each other.”  
  
 _That’s because you were comfortable with each other and it was easier to go back to what you were familiar with.  Holy cow!  This sounds like one fucked up relationship to me.  I’m getting dizzy just trying to keep it straight.  I’d also love to meet Olivia and get her side of the story._  
  
“Olivia also mentioned that she was finding it harder to cope with my successes, while her career wasn’t going anywhere fast.  She explained that she was very happy for me, but had grown weary of going to events with me.”  
  
 _She became jealous.  I knew it.  She was jealous of his success._  
  
“Events not only served as a further reminder of the success I was having, but also reminded her of the success she was not having.  There were always things in the papers the next day describing her as ‘Benedict Cumberbatches girlfriend, the struggling actress, Olivia Poulet’ or ‘Benedict Cumberbatches date’ or worse still she wasn’t mentioned at all.  My mum always said Olivia rarely smiled on the red carpet.”  
  
 _Okay.  I get it now.  College sweethearts - they were young and in love.  Olivia was obviously his first serious relationship, and he was possibly hers.  They promised each other that they would marry, start a family and live happily ever after with their Oscars side-by-side on the mantel.  Then Benedict was car jacked and did all those crazy sports while he was under the pretense of living life to it’s fullest. She didn’t like how the experience affected him.  Then their priorities changed as his career took off and hers didn’t.  Olivia was freaked that she wasn’t going places as fast as he was and decided her career would have to take priority if she was ever going to get anywhere in show business.  She felt she couldn’t have both, so she made her choice; and Benedict didn't’ like it.  He felt that she reneged on her promise to him, and it left him skeptical.  He’s afraid it could happen with us. That’s why he wants me to get Jimmy out of my system – even though he isn’t in my system to begin with._  
  
“Did Olivia do the actual breaking up?”  
  
“Nope.  It was a mutual decision in the end.  We both saw that even though we loved each other, there was no way we were going to be able to make a go of it for the long haul. I moved back into my parents’ flat, and she kept the flat and all the furnishings.  Karon issued a simple statement to the press that Olivia and I had split amicably and that was it.”  
  
“Who’s Karon?”  
  
“Karon Maskill. She been handling my PR since I first started out.”  
  
 _He’s got a PR person?  I never thought about that.  I bet that woman earns every penny working for him.  He must be a nightmare with that mouth of his._  
  
 _I bet she’s thinking I’m not that famous that I need a PR person, but every actor needs one to help promote his work; and Karon’s the best!_  
  
“Before you ask, Olivia and I remain great friends to this day; and I still love her to bits – just in a different way now.  I love her, but I’m not in love with her.”  
  
 _I’m in love with you, Donna.  So very much that it hurts sometimes._  
  
“Donna, the feelings I have for you are strictly romantic ones.”  
  
 _And lustful...let us not forget lustful, Benedict.  I feel like I’m drowning in sexual desire for her._  
  
Donna kept fighting off the impulse to ask him about the engagement ring, but she found herself losing the battle.  
  
 _I need to know what became of the ring he bought.  I would never want a ring that was intended for someone else._  
  
“May I ask what happened to the engagement ring?”  
  
“I returned it to the jeweler, no questions asked, thank God!”  
  
 _She’s afraid I may have kept it and would try and give it to her one day.  I do have more common sense than that._  
  
Benedict looked at Donna.  
  
“I guess my problem still is when things are going well in my life -  like they were that night in South Africa or the way things are going so smoothly with us -  part of me is still afraid that something’s going to go wrong....like it’s a beautiful dream that I’m going to wake up from...”  
  
Donna noticed that his had suddenly stopped speaking as his voice had become very hoarse.  
  
“You feel that our relationship is too good to be true.  You’re afraid something or someone – and in this case that someone seems to be James – is going to come between us.”  
  
Benedict swallowed hard and took a deep breath as he nodded.  
  
“...and cock it up.  Yes.”  
  
“Benedict, I promise you have nothing to worry about as far as we are concerned.  You need to relax and trust me. Okay?  Now, with that said, I do understand why you feel the way you do; and if you insist, I will abide by your wishes if it makes you feel better.”  
  
“I do insist...well...I respectfully ask that you indulge my request.  Thank you so much for understanding.  It means a lot to me, Donna."  He paused to finish his coffee. "So now that you know the story of Olivia and me, what do you think?”  
  
“That was one fucked-up relationship you two had going there, Benedict.  I hope to God ours continues to go smoother than that,” she laughed as he kissed him.    
  
“You’re not Olivia,” he mumbled as he returned her kisses.  
  
 _I may not be Olivia, but you’re still Benedict,_ Donna thought as she kissed him deeper and sucked on his tongue.  _God help me._  
  
Benedict abruptly broke the kiss and got to his feet.  
  
“As much as I want to continue our snog, I’ve got to get up early tomorrow for the recording.”  
  
Donna gave him a mock pout.  “I thought we were going to snoodle or was it snoggle after dessert?”  
  
“I can’t believe I’m saying this – as I really was looking forward to the special treat you promised me – but I want to wait until things are completely sorted out with you and Jimmy before getting more intimate.”  
  
 _Well, this is a first.  A man turning down a blow job.  The poor thing must be emotionally drained after tonight, as well he should be.  I’ll just have to prove to him that James means nothing to me and bide my time._  
  
“Oh, shit!  Before I forget.  Wait one minute!” Benedict disappeared down the hall and returned with a small envelope, which he handed to her.  “This is your VIP ticket to _Cabin Pressure_ tomorrow. When you arrive at the RADA studios, there will be a line of people waiting to get in.  Just bypass the line, go inside and give them your ticket.  That way you won’t have to stand outside.”  
  
“Thank you!  I can’t wait to see you act in person!” said Donna. “And I love that I don’t have to wait outside in the heat.”  
  
“Yeah.  You can go inside and wait in the air con.  There’s a bar area where you can get something to drink.  Perhaps you’ll even meet some other VIPs to help pass the time while waiting for them to load the studio.  Sometimes Roger’s wife, Rebecca, comes with their sons. If they do, I’ll come out and introduce you so you won’t be alone.”  
  
“Who’s Roger?”  
  
“Roger Allam.  He plays Douglas Richardson, the First Officer.”  
  
“Oh.  That’s right. The always-scheming Douglas. I’d love to meet Roger’s family.  It’s hard to go somewhere and not see a familiar face sometimes.”  
  
Benedict Cumberbatch laughed as he ushered Donna Saint James out the door of his flat.  
  
“Don’t worry, Donna.  I promise you’ll see at least one familiar face tomorrow – mine.”  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. The story of Benedict and Olivia is purely fictitious – I took bits and pieces from various interviews and greatly embellished it. What you read is how I imagine it went down. I have taken many liberties with timelines. 
> 
> 2\. I wanted to write something a bit more serious this week, to help illustrate what motivates my version of Benedict to act like he does at times. 
> 
> 3\. I took bits and pieces from the South Africa car-jacking story and embellished them also to fit my universe.


	55. Chapter 55

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Benedict takes Donna home. Donna confides in Carly, who later on makes a startling discovery.

  
  
Donna Saint James descended the steps to the sidewalk in front of Benedict’s home while he set the alarm and locked the door.  The neighborhood was very quiet and the gas-lit street lamps cast a soft, golden glow. Donna loved how the lights inside some of the homes seemingly lit up the stained glass panes in the front windows, adding a dash of brilliant color to the darkness. She also couldn’t help but notice the large proportion of luxury cars parked on the street.    
  
 _This certainly is a well-to-do area.  I wonder which of these cars belong to Benedict?  I bet it’s that brand-new white Mercedes coupe parked in front.  He did say he has a resident space right in front, and the car does have one of those blue Camden Resident Permits in the window._  
  
Benedict came down the steps and walked across the pavement into the street between the Mercedes and a much older black Mitsubishi Colt.  Donna continued to stand on the pavement.  
  
“Oh, so you want to drive then?”  Benedict inquired, playfully tossing the keys at her.    
  
Donna frowned at him in puzzlement as she caught them.  “What are you talking about?”  
  
“You’re waiting on the driver’s side.  You’re in the UK.  Passenger seat is on the left,” he smirked.  
  
“Oh, you’re such a wise ass, Benedict! Sorry. I do that all the time. Are these your spaces?” asked Donna as she began to follow him.  
  
 “Yep. We get these two right in front.  Looks like Bob’s girlfriend is here tonight,” said Benedict, taking back the keys and pressing the remote to unlock the car.  
  
Donna watched as the Mercedes remained dark. However, the Mitsubishi lit up like a Christmas tree.  
  
 _He owns that old car???_  
  
Benedict opened the passenger side door of the Mitsubishi for Donna to get in.   Donna sat and buckled her seat belt while he closed the door and ran around to get into the driver’s seat.  He put on his seat belt and turned the key. Nothing happened.  She watched as he smacked the steering wheel in frustration.  
  
“Come on your motherfucker! Start!” Benedict muttered impatiently.  “Not tonight!”  
  
“Do you always have this trouble?” Donna asked timidly as he tried the ignition again.    
  
“Only when I need it to start in a hurry,”  sighed Benedict with annoyance.    
  
 _Which is probably all the time, knowing you,_ thought Donna with amusement. _Because you’re always running late, bless your little heart._  
  
“Jeeee-sus, how many tries is it going to take tonight?” he mumbled to himself.  
  
“Do you have any idea what the problem is?”  
  
“I think the ignition may be going,” replied Benedict casually as the car finally started.  
  
Donna pointed to the dashboard.  “Your ‘check engine’ light is on.  Perhaps you should take it to a repair shop and have it looked at.”  
  
“Yeah.  I keep meaning to do that.  I will when I get back from filming,” said Benedict as he released the clutch and pulled out of the space and drove slowly down the street.    
  
“Is that a manual transmission?”  
  
“Yep.  Have you driven manual?”  
  
“No.  I learned on automatic.  You rarely see manual in the US.”  
  
“Oh.  I’ll have to teach you then.  Manual is what’s common here.”  
  
“How long have you had this car?”  
  
“Erm....let’s see...I got it right after the incident with the Mini Cooper, so about ten years.....I’m the second owner.  My dad had it first.  Being it cost too much to repair the Mini, he and Mum decided they could make do with one car so they gave me this.”  
  
 _Hmm...I think your parents spoiled you rotten at times.  Mom would have made you work at her law firm to pay off the repairs like she did when Kenny had the accident with Dad's Lexus._  
  
“That’s a long time to have a car,” said Donna. “Things start to go when a car racks up too many miles. Then it becomes more expensive to maintain it. In the end it isn’t cost effective. Perhaps it’s time for a new one.”  
  
 _I hadn’t realized she was such an expert on cars.  That’s all fine and good if one has the money to throw around, but I don’t at this time in my life._  
  
“I didn’t know you were so into car maintenance, Donna.  You seem quite the expert.”  
  
 _Do I detect a bit of sarcasm in his comment? No, I detect a lot of sarcasm._  
  
“Oh, I’m really not, Ben.  That’s what my dad always says.  He says it pays to get rid of a car after two years and get a new one.”  
  
 _Jolly good for you dad then!  I guess Mr. Saint James must have the money to do that, bless him.  I don’t._  
  
Benedict shifted gears and rolled his eyes.  “I’ll take that under advisement, but I’m sure this car has some more good years left,” he said as he seemed to have trouble getting the car to come to a full stop at a traffic light.  
  
Donna heard the low-pitch hum when he stepped on the brake pedal.  She noticed Benedict glance at her sideways.  
  
 _Shit that’s the reminder sound the brakes make when they need to have the linings replaced.  The time it took him to stop was longer than it should have been._  
  
 _I really need to get these brakes taken care of.  I’ll be sliding through intersections soon._  
  
The light changed, and Benedict released the clutch and fed the car some gas, which caused it to promptly stall out.  
  
“Fuck!”  he growled.  
  
“Maybe you need to change the oil or get a tune up.”  
  
“Thank you for your input, Donna,” said Benedict through gritted teeth.  “I’ll be sure to make a mental note of it.”  
  
“My dad says you should change the oil every five thousand miles.”  
  
 _Ah. My darling Donna is definitely a daddy’s girl.  Every word he utters is gospel to her. She really needs to shut up now.  I know what I’m NOT doing. I just don’t have time to take care of all of this._  
  
“Tell you what, Donna.  You can remind me when I get back. Perhaps a reminder email or text message.”  
  
 _Okay. That definitely had a snotty tone.  I get it.  You want me to shut up because you plan to run this thing into the ground, and from what I can see you’re doing a fine and splendid job of it.  Point made and taken._  
  
They drove in silence until they arrived at the A502 and headed towards Central London.  Traffic was light that time of night.    
  
 _He seems to be a good driver.  I was afraid he would have a lead foot on the gas pedal after those revelations tonight about being an adrenaline junkie.  Hmmm...wait...I know! The car probably stalls out if he gives it too much gas. I think I’ll change the subject...we have some unfinished business to discuss anyway._  
  
“Benedict, I take it you don’t plan on telling your parents about us until things are finalized with James.”  
  
“Yep.  I want everything sorted out before telling them and taking you around to meet them.”  
  
“I already know your dad,” Donna pointed out. “Sort of.”  
  
Benedict was quiet.  He sighed as he shifted gears and changed lanes.  
  
“My dad knows about us.”  
  
“What the heck?  In one breath you’re telling me you didn’t want your parents to know and in the next you’re telling me you already told your father.  My God, Benedict, you confuse the crap out of me!”  
  
Benedict rubbed the back of his neck.  “I needed to tell someone, and I tend to confide in my dad...its not that I don’t confide in my mum – because I do – just not about my love life. I told him I was seeing this girl I met at Barbecoa and things were looking very serious, but there was some competition – that someone I knew was also dating the person I was seeing...”  
  
 _Jesus Christ!  This man cannot keep a secret if his life depended on it.  Sooner or later everything just comes tumbling out of his mouth with seemingly reckless abandon.  Unfortunately, I’ve also been known to do the same._  
  
“....I didn’t tell him it was Jimmy, because he and Mum know Jimmy.”  
  
“Does he know it’s me...the girl from the Orangery?”  
  
“Heavens, no!  He just knows that I met you at Barbecoa and that we’re sorting things out.”  
  
“ _You’re_ sorting things out, my dear.  _I’m_ already sorted out.”  
  
Benedict cast a sideways glance at her.  “I thought you were going to humour me?”  
  
“I said I would, but it’s not going to change the way I feel about you, Benedict.”  
  
Donna saw Benedict smile smugly in the dark.  
  
“What about your mother?  Are you afraid she’s not going to approve of me?”  
  
“Oh, not at all. Quite the contrary.  My mum will love you to bits. It’s just that she’s the difficult one of the two.”  
  
 _This translates to ‘my mother is a pain in the ass’._  
  
“Could you elaborate on what you mean by _difficult_?”  
  
“Perhaps difficult is a bit strong,” Benedict laughed nervously.  “On second thought I think anxious is a better word…Mum’s anxious for me to settle down and give them some grandchildren. She makes absolutely no bones about it, bless her.”  
  
 _That’s right!  Now, I remember him saying something to this effect when we had dinner at the Tate Modern._  
  
“I think all parents want to see their children happy and settled down.  My parents feel the same way about me because I’m the only one who isn’t married yet.”  
  
“My mum can be a bit.....overbearing....”  
  
 _She sounds more and more like my mother the more he talks about her._  
  
“....she’s always asking me about my love life.  Yeah.  She’s been known to talk to her friends and even bloody strangers about my being single.”  
  
“Sounds like your mom suffers from being a frustrated matchmaker at heart,” laughed Donna.  
  
“Absolutely.  Yeah.  I had to take my _Sherlock_ promotional shots away from her.  She was showing them around town to prospective daughters-in-law, which legally she couldn’t – the show hadn’t even been picked up yet by the BBC.”  
  
“Oh my God. What did you do?”  
  
Benedict laughed bitterly.  “What I always do. I pitch a fit, and we have quite a row.  Then my dad steps in and talks to her and everything would calm down for a week or so.  And then she’d be right back to:  Oh, Ben, did you know that the butcher has three single daughters?”  
  
Donna laughed at Benedict’s imitation of his mother.    
  
 _He sounded uncannily like Wanda Ventham when he did that imitation._  
  
“I’m sorry she gives you such a hard time, Benedict.”  
  
Donna found that Benedict had warmed considerably to the topic of his mother’s interfering.  
  
“If I’d let her, she’s the type who would happily compose a want ad for a spouse for me and post it on a site like Craigslist.  I know that sounded a bit far-fetched,” Benedict tittered nervously, as he glanced at her sideways.  
  
 _Not as far-fetched as you think.  Jeez…I actually know someone who did just that, and she happens to be your father’s lover._  
  
“My dad and I were just joking around about Mum doing something like that. I could even picture her conducting interviews – I know that sounds really bizarre, but can you honestly imagine a mother interviewing for a daughter-in-law for her son?  How crazy is that?”  
  
 _God, I wish he wouldn’t say that! It’s really NOT that crazy.  Not only can I imagine something like that, but I actually went on an interview just like you’re describing. Wanda happened to be a very adept interviewer, too.  She left no stone unturned. If Benedict knew I did something like that, he’d write me off in a heartbeat.  I’d better make sure this secret dies with me._  
  
“In reality, I know she would never do something like that - at least not without my permission,” Benedict said as he shifted gears and changed lanes to overtake the car in front of him.  
  
 _That’s where your mom and Wanda part company. Wanda certainly didn’t ask for her son’s permission.  She was petrified of his finding out.  Funny thing, Ben Ventham seemed so even-tempered and sweet that I couldn’t picture him being cross with her for doing that. Now, I could imagine Benedict having a nasty temper, should he be sufficiently provoked.  I’ve seen flashes of it, but he does a good job of controlling himself when he’s pissed off._  
  
“How long has your mother been like this?”  
  
“Ever since Olivia and I split for good, Mum’s made it her life’s mission to help me find the perfect life partner....whether I like it or not.”  
  
“Well, it will certainly come as a relief when you finally tell your mom that you’ve found her,” smiled Donna reassuringly.  
  
 _What did I just say?  Oh, Donna, you’re jumping the gun. You’ve got such a big mouth. He hasn’t proposed yet or even uttered the three words yet._  
  
 _And she’s sitting right here beside me in the passenger seat. Maybe I should let her tell Jimmy to bugger off and then tell her I’m in love with her before I leave._  
  
Donna suddenly felt Benedict’s hand on hers. He gave it a quick squeeze and returned it to the steering wheel.  She watched the scenery passing by and then looked in the side mirror. All of a sudden they hit a bump in the roadway, jarring them.  
  
“Sorry!  Motherfucking Department of Transport can’t seem to find the money to properly fix the roads.”  
  
“Whoa!  Did you see that?”  
  
“See what?” asked Benedict looking in his rear view mirror with a frown.  “There was nothing to see.  We just hit a bump is all.”  
  
“The sparks!  Sparks came out from underneath the back of the car when you drove over the bump,” exclaimed Donna.  “Isn’t that dangerous?”  
  
“Oh, the sparks. Nope. The muffler is just hanging a bit too low.  It sometimes scrapes the ground when I go over a bump – that’s where the sparks come from.  It’s on my list of things to get fixed.”  
  
Donna sat in stunned silence.  _This car is falling apart, and he doesn’t seem very concerned at all!_  
  
“Donna, may I ask how you came to see all this when you’re sitting in the front seat?”  
  
“I was looking in the side view mirror.”  
  
 _Bloody hell, this reminds me of driving with Mum - and not in a good way.  I’ll have to nip this in the bud._  
  
“That mirror is meant for the driver to look through, not the passenger,” Benedict said testily.  
  
Okay. That’s _HIS_ mirror.  I won’t make that mistake again.    
  
Donna sat quietly staring straight ahead as they entered Central London.  It reminded her of Manhattan at night.  Regardless of the time, there was always a certain amount of traffic on the main avenues.  When they hit a pothole, she couldn’t help but take a look in the mirror.  This time she had a different view.  
  
 _How do you like that?  He adjusted the mirror so I can’t see the sparks if he hits another bump. Good try, Benedict; but I still heard the muffler scrape the ground._  
  
“You’re a piece of work, Benedict,” Donna laughed sardonically.  “I promise from here on in not to mention _anything_ about your car. It’s your business.”  
  
“Thank you,” he said curtly, turning on the radio.  
  
 _He’s being touchy.  Funny how quickly his moods can change. I’ll just leave him be._  
  
As Benedict guided the car along the streets towards Donna’s apartment, the sound of something rattling in the trunk of the car began.  It seemed to come and go as they turned corners.    
  
 _I guess he doesn’t believe in using the cargo net.  It would take too much time to use it because he’s always running late and in a hurry._  
  
 _She must be wondering what the noise in the boot is._  
  
“I’ve got some loose things in the boot,” said Benedict, glancing sideways at Donna.  “In case you were wondering what that racket was.”  
  
To his annoyance, she sat still, with a tiny smile forming on her lips.  
  
“I misplaced the cargo net,” he added. “Believe it or not.”  
  
 _It would make too much sense to put all his loose crap in a box._  
  
“Oh, I believe you,” she snickered as they hit another bump.  
   
 _Miss Saint James finds this amusing.  She can so damn cheeky when she wants to be.  I’ll put the mirror back on the setting I originally had it on, so I can see better._  
  
Out of the corner of her eye, Donna caught the side mirror moving back into its original position.   She started to giggle.  
  
“What’s so damn funny?”  
  
“You.  You just moved the mirror back…it reminded me of when you kept moving the water carafe at Barbecoa.”  
  
They had stopped at a traffic light.  Benedict looked at her.  Then he leaned over and kissed her quickly.  
  
“What was that for?”  
  
“Because you’re right, and I know what you’re thinking.  I don’t service my car regularly, and it annoyed me that you were calling me out on things I really do need to take care of.  It’s always a low priority on my to-do list because there are so many other things I’d rather be doing, but it shouldn’t be because of the safety issue.”  
  
“Well, maybe one day when you’re a rich and famous actor, you can hire a PA to do all that stuff for you.”  
  
Benedict laughed.  “I should be so fortunate.”  
  
They rode in companionable silence as Saint Paul’s Cathedral came into view.  
  
“Almost home,” commented Donna.  “That didn’t take too long.”  
  
“I would never attempt this drive during a weekday.  It would take twice as long.”  
  
Donna nodded in agreement.  
  
 _I notice she hasn’t said a word about telling her parents about me, yet earlier she alluded to not having told them yet._  
  
“So, I take it you haven’t told your parents about us either?”  
  
“No! The minute they find out, they will be on the first flight over to meet you.”  
  
Benedict chuckled.  “What’s so bad about that?  I call that being interested in your daughter’s happiness.”  
  
 _How much time do you have?  I call it the beginning of the inquisition._  
  
“I think it’s fantastic that they care so much about you, Donna, that they would fly across the pond to meet me. I’m sure your parents are absolutely lovely.”  
  
Donna choked and coughed.    
  
“They have their moments.”  
  
 _We’ll see if you’re still singing that tune once you’ve met the Neil and Toni Show. Mom will call in all her favors and have you thoroughly investigated, and the minute Dad finds out you’re an actor, he’ll be calling up his critic friends in London and looking up all your old reviews.  He’ll have a Benedict Cumberbatch film marathon.  Then they’ll descend upon London like two locusts and conduct an interview that’ll you’ll never forget.  I’ll worry about it when we reach that point._  
  
Benedict pulled the car up to the curb in front of her building.  The brakes began to hum as he pumped the brakes trying to stop.  Donna shook her head and looked at Benedict with a sly smile.  
  
“Permission to toss out the anchor, Admiral?”  
  
  
*************************************************************  
   
Sunday Morning:  
  
  
Andrew Scott and Donna Saint James got onto the elevator from the basement of their apartment complex.  They had just finished their morning exercise and were both still sweating from their exertions.  
  
“That was an epic workout today!” said Andrew as he pushed the button for their floor. “I’m especially thankful that this building has central air con all over.  It’s just heaven for working out.  We would have had heat stroke had we been in my last building.”  He opened his water bottle and drank half of it down.  
  
“You should have been with me last night,” said Donna with a smirk as she redid her ponytail.  “Benedict invited me to his place for dinner, and he doesn’t have central air.”  
  
“Most homes here don’t, Darlin’,” said Andrew, as he patted his face and neck with his towel.  “The cool climate doesn’t warrant it for the two weeks of heat that we get.  It’s the same in Ireland.  A portable unit is all you need for really hot and humid days or you just open the windows, use fans and make the best of it.”  
  
“So I’ve been told,” scoffed Donna as she took off her sweatband.  “I thought I was in hell – literally.  I don’t know how Benedict can live like that!   He’s just got this small portable unit in his bedroom, which barely cools the room.”  
  
Andrew smiled slyly as he placed the towel around his neck.  “You made it to his bedroom then?”  
  
Donna drank some water from her bottle and wiped her lips on the back of her hand.

“We ate dinner in the bedroom on his bed.”  
  
Andrew giggled.  “Good to hear that the heat didn’t interfere with your carnal appetites, bless you both.”  
  
“Believe me.  Sex was the last thing on my mind last night.”  
  
“I admire such hale and hearty natures.  Stephen would have had to ice me down first if he wanted any....”  
  
Donna held up her hands.  “Whoa hoa!  I meant we literally ate dinner while sitting on his bed.  It was all very chaste and innocent.”  
  
Andrew smirked as he leaned against the wall of the lift and finished his water.

“If you say so, Darlin’.  I’m not here to judge.  I’m hear to listen, and I want all the dirty, sweaty details.”  
  
“Okay. Being you asked.  It was so friggin hot up there that the sweat was pouring down me. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Then I felt dizzy and passed out.  Benedict had to bring me in his bedroom where it was cool.”  
  
The door to the twelfth floor slid open to reveal Donna’s sister, Carly, who was about to knock on her door.  
  
“Hey Curly Carly!” Donna said cheerfully to her sister. “Good Morning!”  
  
“You two are such early birds on your day off,” Carly laughed.  “Steve and I are thinking of skipping the workout today in favor of a picnic on Hampstead Heath and checking out those bathing ponds.  Can I interest either of you?”  
  
“I wish we could, but Stephen and I are going to his sister’s for a barbeque, which means it will most assuredly rain later on,” laughed Andrew.  
  
“I don’t recall the forecast being for rain today,” said Carly with a puzzled expression.  
  
“It’s a joke that Londoners always barbeque in the rain because we so rarely have hot sunny weather like this.”    
  
“Sounds like fun, but I’ve got a date with Benedict,” replied Donna as she unlocked her door.  “I’m going to watch him record a radio program called _Cabin Pressure_ , and we’re going out to dinner afterwards.  
  
“Where are you going?” asked Andrew innocently.  
  
“He didn’t say.”  
  
“Perhaps he’s taking you back to his flat for some hot leftovers!” Andrew snorted.  “Then you can eat in the bed rather than on it, if you get lucky.”  
  
“Stop that, Andrew!  You have a filthy mind.”  
  
Donna saw Carly regarding her with raised eyebrows.  
  
“Yes, I do.  Please forgive me, lovely ladies. Stephen’s been working crazy hours all week and is probably still sleeping.  I’m in dire need of some TLC and need to live vicariously through your escapades.”  
  
“Or lack of in this case,” countered Donna with a snort.  
  
“Sad, but true.”  Andrew smiled. “I hope you ladies have fun with your men.  I’ll see you tomorrow, Darlin’. We’ll tighten the tension and push for five miles on the bike. Have fun and say hi to Benedict.”  
  


  
  
  
As soon as Donna and Carly were inside the apartment, Carly smiled at her sister.  
  
“Sounds like you had a hot date last night. Care to elaborate?”  
  
“No.  I’m going to have something to eat, take a quick shower and head out to the RADA Studios to watch Benedict.  I wish I had two extra tickets so you and Steve could come Benedict assured me they have a/c.”  
  
Carly frowned and folded her arms across her chest.  Donna could see that she was annoyed.

“Since when have you become so secretive?  You didn’t call me back yesterday after whatever calamity interrupted you.  We never kept secrets from each other, Donna, not even as children”  
  
“I’m not keeping anything from you.  I just haven’t had time to keep you in the loop,” retorted Donna, taking off her sneakers and putting on her cow slippers.  
  
“What’s up with you and Benedict?”  
  
Donna took a deep breath and went into the kitchen.  She washed her hands at the sink and checked the time.

“Coffee or tea?”  
  
“I’ll have a cup of decaf regular tea.”  
  
Donna put on the tea kettle and opened a bag on the counter.  “I got these at the farmers market yesterday,” she said holding out the bag, so Carly could take a peek.  "I'll just warm them in the microwave."  
  
Carly walked over to closely inspect the pastries.  Her eyes lit up. “Are those blueberry sticky buns I see?”  
  
“Yes!  I got them at the Flour Station stand after the catastrophe at the Tomato Stall.  I know how much you love blueberries.  These are basically Chelsea buns with blueberries instead of currants.  They use cardamom, orange peel and those are pistachio nuts on top.”  
  
Carly raised her hand.  “Let’s back up here for a moment. What happened at the Tomato Stall?  Do I want to know?”  
  
“Probably not,” replied Donna as she placed the two huge buns on two plates and got out cutlery and napkins.    
  
“Was your handbag somehow involved?”  
  
“It was the cause.  The shoulder strap got caught on the handle of a display basket of cherry tomatoes...I’m sure your imagination can fill in the rest.”  
  
“Shit!  You really need to get a smaller bag when you go to crowded places like a market, Donna.”  
  
“I love my bag.  I can get so much stuff in it.  I’d be lost without it.”  
  
“I take it that you spent the night at Benedict’s?”  
  
“No.  You take it wrong, Carly!  He invited me over to dinner because he wanted to cook for me.  It was hot as hell up there.”  
  
“Doesn’t he have a/c?”  
  
“No.  Just a portable unit in his bedroom, which does a barely adequate job.”  
  
Carly raised her eyebrows again as the kettle whistled.

“And things got _so_ hot that you had to eat dinner in there,” she snickered.  
  
Donna nodded as she poured the water over the tea bags.  She dunked them up and down a few times and tossed them.

“Exactly.  First, I passed out from the heat.”  
  
“Wait a minute. We worked outdoors at Disney for four summers in the sweltering heat and humidity of Central Florida, and you never got sick once.”  
  
“Carly, you had to be up there to understand.  It felt like an oven – he actually used the oven to cook dinner.”  
  
“Holy Toledo! What’s wrong with him?”  
  
“You’re not going to believe this, but he didn’t even break a sweat!  He said he was used to it!”  
  
“Good Lord!  Even Steve’s commented on the lack of a/c around London, and he’s usually cold all the time.”  
  
“Benedict does Bikram yoga.”  
  
“The one where the classroom is heated to 105 degrees?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“You two would never get along living under the same roof!” chortled Carly.  
  
“Who said I’m going to live with him?”  
  
 _Careful, Carly.  She doesn’t know what you and Benedict discussed._  
  
Carly added sugar and milk to their teas and stirred.  She sipped hers. 

"Mmmm...perfect. Forgive me, Donna, I was just overstepping my bounds.  I assume too much, too soon. By the way, have you told Mom and Dad about him?”  
  
“NO!  And I don’t want you saying _anything_ to them about Benedict until I’m ready to.”  
  
“Okay, calm down.  I’m not going to say anything. I know that will only set the wheels of investigation in motion.”  
  
“I just don’t need that right now.  There are other things that have to be straightened out first.”  
  
 _Something’s bothering her.  I wish she’d confide in me,_ thought Carly as she brought the mugs of hot tea to the breakfast bar and Donna removed the buns from the microwave.  
  
The two sisters sat side-by-side and took a bite of the soft, yeasty buns.  
  
“Delicious!” exclaimed Carly.  “I’ve got to get some of these for myself next time I go to Borough Market.”  
  
“I didn’t get them at Borough Market.  I was at the Parliament Hill Market in Hampstead.”  
  
“Hampstead? That's in Northwest London.  Why would you go all the way up to Hampstead when there are so many markets right in Central London?”  
  
Donna didn’t respond.  She kept sipping her tea.  
  
 _Should I tell her the story?  She’ll think I’m nuts._

_My sister's trying to decide if she wants to tell me something._  
  
“Donna, are you going to tell me what you were doing at the market yesterday?”  
  
“Gosh, it’s a long story, Carly.”  
  
“I’ve got plenty of time.  Steven went to the hospital to assist his supervising doctor on an emergency surgery.”  
  
“I honestly don’t know where to begin,” said Donna as she sipped her tea.  
  
Carly licked some sticky goo off her finger.  “I find the beginning is always the best place to start.”  
  
“I did something I’m not very proud of.”  
  
Carly covered Donna’s hand with hers and patted it.  “You can tell me _anything_. I’ve always told you my deepest and darkest secrets.”  
  
Donna sighed deeply.  “Remember when I offered to help find you a Sous Chef?”  
  
Carly nodded.  “Of course.”  
  
“I went onto Craigslist with the express purpose of looking at the situations wanted section, which is where I found George, as you know.  That night I had just gotten back from yet another disastrous date.”  
  
“The banker?”  
  
“Yeah.  The blinking banker with the long hands. Ugh! I was feeling lonely and discouraged that I would never meet a nice, normal guy.”  
  
“These things take time, Donna.”  
  
“Oh, I know; but you know how impatient I can be.”  
  
Carly smiled and nodded.  “Only too well.”  
  
“I started looking at the personal ads for the hell of it,” said Donna as she got to her feet and crossed the room to the glass and chrome desk that her laptop sat on.  She motioned for Carly to join her as she turned it on and waited for it to boot up.  
  
Carly brought over a chair from the dining set, along with their breakfast; and sat beside Donna, who put in her password and clicked on a folder marked “BEN”.  
  
“I came across this very intriguing personal ad.”  
  
Carly looked at the screen and read the ad aloud:

  
  
**Daughter-in-law Wanted**   
  
**Are you tired of traveling life's journey alone?  Are you tired of fruitless searches to find the right man?  Are you ready to reap the rewards of a happy relationship?**   
  
**If you have answered 'yes' to any of these questions, look no further.**   
  
**Mother seeks mate for handsome 32-yr. old son, who is intelligent and kind-hearted. Hard working, yet fun-loving.  Harrow-educated, with University and Masters degrees.**   
  
**Looking for an attractive, non-smoking female, 25-35, with a zest for life. The right candidate must be friendly and outgoing with a strong sense of family values.  University degree or higher required. Good listening and conversational skills essential. Good manners and sense of humor necessary. Interest in music, literature and the arts helpful. Competency at maintaining a household. Willingness to bear children. Cookery skills a plus.**   
  
**You will have nothing to lose by contacting me.  What you will gain is the perfect partner to travel through life with!**   
  
**Send resume and photo to WNDAVC@gmail.uk**   
  


  
Carly sat back when she finished reading the ad and tossed her long blonde curls over her shoulders. 

“You’re right.  That is an intriguing ad.  I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a mother placing a want ad for her son like that.  I also don’t think I’ve ever heard of a son who would allow his mother to do such a thing.  That takes real guts...unless he knows and gave her his blessing, and in that case I’d be worried about him,” she laughed.  
  
“He doesn’t have any idea she placed it.”  
  
Carly stopped laughing and shook her head as if it clear it.  “What did you say?”  
  
“The son has no clue his mother placed the ad.”  
  
Carly looked at her sister with narrowed eyes as the realization dawned on her.

“Holy shit.  Donna, did you respond to this ad?”  
  
Donna bit her lip and nodded.  Then she pulled up the email she had sent back.  
  
“This is what I sent in response.”

Carly leaned forward and read the response aloud:  
  


  
**Dear WNDAVC:**  
  
 **I would very much like to meet the woman behind such a creative and intriguing ad. Not only do I wish to learn more about your son, but you as well. Please contact me so we can set up a mutually convenient time to meet. I will be happy to answer any questions you may have at that time.**  
  
 **Looking forward to your reply.**  
  
 **Regards,**  
 **Donna Saint James**

  
  
“And this woman answered you.”  
  
“She sure did.  We set up an interview at Kensington Palaces' Orangery over afternoon tea.”  
  
“She actually interviewed you?  What was she like?”  
  
Donna cleared her throat.  “You are already acquainted with the lady.”  
  
“What the fuck?”  
  
“Her name is Wanda Ventham.”  
  
“Wanda?  You’re playing with me, right?”  
  
Donna shook her head.  “I’m dead serious.”  
  
“Wow.”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“So that’s how you knew Wanda and her son.  You never did answer my questions the other day.  My God, my head is just spinning, Donna. Have you gone out on a date with him yet?  And how do James and Benedict fit into the scheme of things?  You’re dating three men at the same time?”  
  
“Let me tell you the story as it happened:  I met James first in the Steinway Store while he was practicing one rainy afternoon.  We got to talking,  exchanged numbers; and he promised to call me.  Time passed, and he never called. Then I answered Wanda’s ad after the date with the banker.  During the interview with Wanda, we agreed that she would set up an accidental meeting so I could bump into her son.”  
  
“That’s the nice-looking blond man, who was sitting with Wanda and the white-haired man in front of Pauls.”  
  
“Yes, Ben Ventham.  Here’s the photo Wanda originally sent to me,” said Donna as she showed Carly the photo of Ben Ventham in his best man garb.  
  
Carly studied the photo.  “He’s certainly a cutie, but he’s nicer looking in person.  When did this accidental meeting take place?”  
  
“You’re getting ahead of yourself, Curly Carly.  While I was waiting for Wanda to get back to me, I received an invitation to meet with Jamie Oliver at Barbecoa; and as you know that’s how I met Benedict.  Wanda was having a lot of difficulty coordinating things with her son’s schedule.”  
  
“What does Ben Ventham do for a living?”  
  
“He works for the BBC in programming.  I know he travels quite a bit.”  
  
Carly sipped her tea and crossed her long legs. 

“Gee, this is getting more and more complicated. I feel I should be taking notes to refer back to, so I can keep up.”  
  
Donna held up her hand.  “Wait.  I haven’t gotten to the good part yet. James finally calls, and we made a date to meet one afternoon for coffee, which is how I met Benedict’s father, who just happens to be Wanda’s lover - Tim.”  
  
“You’re losing me, Donna.”  
  
“Benedict’s father was in the cafe having a rendezvous with Wanda that afternoon.  It turns out that James and Benedict went to the same fancy prep school and knew each other from way back when.”  
  
“So you’ve been busy dating two friends at the same time.  Are they on board with that?”  
  
“No.  They weren’t happy when they found out that I was dating both of them.  Benedict absolutely despises it, while James is dating someone else besides me.”  
  
“And how do you feel about that?”  
  
“I wasn’t thrilled, but I soon discovered that I have much different feelings for Benedict than I do for James.”  
  
“How so?”  asked Carly through a mouthful of blueberry bun.  
  
“Carly, I’m in love with Benedict.”  
  
Carly smiled widely and leaned over to hug her sister.

_Oh, thank God!  They feel the same way about each other.  I am so relieved.  I had no idea where this was going._  
  
“I’m so happy for you, Donna.  Does Benedict feel the same?”

_I could tell you exactly how he feels, but I promised I wouldn't.  That's for him to do._  
  
“I’m pretty sure.  He hasn’t expressed his feelings in those terms exactly; but he’s hinted as such. We’ve gone as far as talking about having a future together.”  
  
Carly put down her mug and re-crossed her legs.  “Well, that certainly sounds serious to me.”  
  
“There’s something else. He still wants me to see James.”  
  
“Okay.  You’re losing me again.”  
  
“Benedict wants a commitment from me.  He wants us to be in an exclusive relationship, but he wants me to be sure that I just want to be friends with James.”  
  
“What the fuck?  You’ve definitely lost me, Donna. Actually, I think I may be beyond lost.”  
  
“Benedict was in a long-term relationship that didn’t end well.  Let’s just say there was a mutual agreement that they would get married and have a family, and then one day she changed her mind.  I’m leaving out a lot, but the gist of it is he feels what we have is too good to be true and wants to make sure it’s real before he gets involved to that extent again.”  
  
 _Holy criminy!  My sister sure does bounce from one topic to another.  I’m so lost I need a guide to get out of this pit of confusion._  
  
“You’re not going to keep dating James are you?”  
  
“No.  I plan to break up with him while Benedict is away filming a movie over the next three weeks. Why should I date someone I don’t have feelings for?”  
  
Carly nodded as she glanced at Ben Ventham’s photo.  She used her chin to indicate it.  
  
“And how does Ben Ventham fit into the picture?”  
  
Donna took a deep breath and let it out slowly.    
  
“He doesn’t.  Well...sort of.  Anyway, while all this is going on with James and Benedict, Wanda finally calls to say she has the ideal meeting spot.  Parliament Hill Farmers Market in Hampstead. Her son goes every Saturday.”  
  
“Oh, that’s why you were in Hampstead yesterday morning.”  
  
“I was really caught off guard by her call.  I had been waiting for such a long time to meet her son; and then when I didn’t hear from her, things began to heat up with Benedict. I soon found I no longer had any interest in meeting her son.”  
  
“You told Wanda that you were no longer interested?”  
  
Donna cringed.  “Not exactly.  I was torn between my loyalty to Wanda and my feelings for Benedict.  I felt I had made a commitment to Wanda and the right thing was to fulfill it and at least meet her son.  But somehow, it didn’t seem right...it was almost like cheating on Benedict even though things still weren’t firmed up between us.”  
  
Carly took a swallow of tea and ate some more bun.

“This is getting _very_ interesting, my dear sister.  So, you went to the market yesterday morning, intending to bump into this Ben Ventham?”  
  
“Yes, and of course the first thing I do is pull down a display of cherry tomatoes when you called.  It was an accident. My shoulder strap got caught on the basket.  Anyway, it turned out alright in the end.  Then after I was there for awhile; I decided that I couldn’t go through with it.  I wanted to be with Benedict, not Wanda’s son.”  
  
“The suspense is killing me, Donna! Can you just fast forward to what happened in the end?”  
  
“I started to make my way out of the market and was about to call you back when I literally ran into Ben Ventham.”  
  
“Holy criminy! The best laid plans.”  
  
“How about that?  We bumped right into each other – exactly as it had been planned.  It was seamless,” Donna laughed.  “He’s so big that he knocked me over and our stuff was all over the place. We wound up chatting, and it turned out that he really is a very sweet man.  Perhaps in another time and place it would have worked out, but I just didn’t feel any sparks between us. In the end we simply parted ways without even an exchange of names.”  
  
“That’s incredible!  Just like a movie! Does Wanda know?”  
  
“Yeah.  I called her yesterday afternoon as soon as I got back from the market and told her.”  
  
“How did she take it?”  
  
“Not very well.  She sounded crushed.  We talked for a bit, and have decided to remain friends.  The end!”  
  
Carly stretched and got out of the chair.   She stood by the window and looked out at the Thames, as she digested everything Donna had told her. Finally, she turned to face her sister. 

“I’ll say that was some story.  I feel sad for Wanda and James, yet I’m ever-so-happy about you and Benedict.”  
  
“I take it you like him?” asked Donna hopefully.  
  
“Very much.  Well, I better go downstairs and pack up everything.  Have a good time this afternoon. Steve and I can't wait to help you review the Duck and Waffle tomorrow morning. We'll meet you in the lobby at six."  
  
“You didn’t make fun of my answering the ad,” said Donna as she bit her lower lip.  "I really thought you would."  
  
“Why would I?  You didn’t do anything wrong or to be ashamed of, Donna.”  
  
“No sisterly advice to offer me?”  
  
Carly stopped and thought for a minute.    
  
“Okay, being you asked:  If I were you, I’d stop wasting precious time and tell Benedict exactly how I feel about him.”  
  
Donna Saint James smiled at her sister as they headed to the door, arm-in-arm.

“It’s good to know that we’re on the same page, as that’s exactly what I plan to do.”  
  
Carly’s cellphone began to ring.  “Shit.  It’s Steve. Hello?  Oh. No, I understand. Call me when you’re on your way back.”  She looked at Donna.  “The surgery is over, but he wants to hang around until the woman comes to.”  
  
“You’re welcome to hang out with me while I get ready,” offered Donna. “Have a seat while I take a shower.  I won’t be long. Then I’ll tell you all about the delicious dinner Benedict cooked for me last night.”  
  
Carly walked over to the television and turned it on.  Donna had a DVD on top of the DVD player. She read the description on the back of it.  
  
Hmmm... _Atonement_.  Sounds interesting.  I’ll watch this until Donna’s ready.  
  


  
  
  
Donna came into the living room to find Carly immersed in a movie.  She plopped down beside her and watched the screen for a couple of minutes.  
  
“Oh, you’re looking at _Atonement_.  I watched that the other night.  It’s a great movie!”  
  
Carly waved her hand impatiently at Donna to be quiet.

“Shush!  I didn’t know Benedict was in it.”  
  
“Isn’t his character creepy?  That’s the role that got him the lead in _Sherlock_.   Supposedly the producers were so impressed with his performance that they would only consider him to play Sherlock Holmes.”  
  
“Be quiet!  Paul’s about to marry Lola!” hissed Carly.  “I can’t believe she’s going to marry her rapist!”  
  
Donna and Carly sat and watched the wedding scene unfold.  All of a sudden Carly poked Donna in the arm.  
  
“Oh my God!!!  Donna!!!  Did you see them?” she asked excitedly.  
  
“See who?”  
  
Carly grabbed the remote and stopped the film. She hit rewind and then froze the scene.    
  
“There! On the right hand side of the church – look!  It’s them!”  
  
“Them who?”  Donna leaned forward to take a closer look at the frozen frame.  
  
Carly jumped up and ran to the large flat screen.  She pointed at a couple standing in the first pew.  
  
“Don’t tell me you don’t recognize them! Even I recognized them right off the bat!”  
  
Donna clapped her hand over her mouth as she recognized the couple.  
  
“It’s Wanda and Tim!  It looks like they’re supposed to be Paul’s parents!”  
  
“It sure does look like it!” agreed Carly. “Benedict must have gotten his dad a part as an extra in the movie.  How sweet is that?”  
  
“Benedict told me that both of his parents are actors. As far as I know, Wanda is just a housewife from Kensington.”  
  
“Maybe she’s also an actress,” said Carly. "Have you ever considered that?"  
  
“No way!  She doesn’t seem like the actress type to me,” scoffed Donna.  
  
“I wonder if that’s how Wanda and Tim met,” mused Carly.  “Both of them got jobs as extras and one thing led to another – how romantic!”  
  
“That’s NOT romantic, Carly!  That’s cheating on his wife and her husband. Poor Benedict.  He hasn’t a clue.  He always talks about what an ideal marriage his parents have.”  
  
“Well, Tim must excel at playing the role of the dutiful husband,” quipped Carly. “Especially, since it seems Benedict is convinced his parents have such a wonderful relationship.”  
  
Donna took the remote from Carly and fast-forwarded to the end.  She started to scan the credits.  
  
“What are we looking for?”  
  
“Their names.  Timothy Cumberbatch and Wanda Ventham.”  
  
“Damn!  I don’t see either of them listed,” said Carly disgustedly.  
  
“Neither do I,” agreed Donna.  “I guess they don’t always credit the extras.”  
  
“I would think they would be if they were paid extras.”  
  
“Maybe they didn’t get paid.  Perhaps they just did it for fun.  Some people do you know,” said Donna.  “I can always ask Benedict.”  
  
“Have you looked up Tim online?”  
  
“Yes, and strangely enough, nothing comes up.  There is no actor named Tim or Timothy Cumberbatch that I could find.”  
  
“How about Wanda Ventham?”  
  
“Why would I bother?  I told you, Carly.  Wanda’s not an actress. There's no way in hell that woman is an actress.”  
  
“Don’t be so sure.” Carly crossed the room to Donna’s laptop and began doing a search.  “Let’s see what we can come up with.”  
  
“I have to finish getting ready while you search,” said Donna.  “Call me if you find anything.”  
  


  
  
  
Fifteen minutes later, Donna returned to the living room to find Carly deeply engrossed in her online search.  
  
“Find anything?”  
  
“Plenty.”  
  
“Don’t keep me in suspense! What did you find?” asked Donna anxiously, as she stood beside her sister.  
  
“You were correct, Donna.  There is no actor named Timothy Cumberbatch anywhere that I could find.  However, I did find this old article about an actress named Wanda Ventham.  Feast your eyes.”  
  
Donna leaned over the screen as Carly pointed to a small article with a photo of a much younger Wanda and Timothy together back from the 1970’s.  
  
“Holy cow!  She was gorgeous!  And look how handsome he was!  Benedict looks so much like him except for the eyes. What does it say? I have to leave soon.”  
  
“Apparently, the article talks about Wanda’s divorce from her first husband, James Tabernacle.  This is a picture of Wanda and Tim leaving the courthouse together after the divorce was granted. Apparently, you were right, Donna.  Tim and Wanda were an item back then and apparently still are from what we’ve seen.”  
  
Donna sat on the vacant chair heavily.  “Jesus Christ.  They’ve been together all this time!”  
  
“The article refers to Tim as actor Timothy Carlton.  I did a quick search and presto!  Several articles on Timothy Carlton. He's had a fairly busy career from what I found.  He's  done movies, stage and TV shows.  It seems he prefers to use Timothy Carlton as his stage name.  His whole name is Timothy Carlton Cumberbatch.  From what I was able to decipher, Tim and Wanda met in Ireland while filming _A Family at War_.”  
  
Donna looked stunned.  “What about Tim’s wife?  Is she mentioned?”  
  
“I didn’t see any mention of a wife, but I only had a few minutes to play around.”  
  
“Well, we know he’s got a wife or Benedict wouldn’t be here.  We also know she’s an actress.  We just need her name. I’ll just ask Benedict when I see him - I keep meaning to ask him, but I keep getting sidetracked with other things when we're together."

_Like making out with him on the chaise lounge._ _Once those gorgeous cupid's bow lips touch mine, my mind goes blank._  
  
“Just don’t go arousing his suspicion, Donna.  You _can_ feel free to arouse _other_ things.”  
  
“Ha ha.  Very funny, Carla.  The next time the Comedy Warehouse is holding auditions, I’m submitting your name.”  
  
“So, Wanda must have remarried the man with the white hair, and Ben Ventham is their son.  I wonder why her son uses Ventham as a surname?”  
  
“To be honest with you, the subject never came up,” replied Donna.  “I just assumed his last name was Ventham like hers, and I incorrectly assumed that Ventham was her husband’s last name. Now we know better.”  
  
“Perhaps her husband has one of those God-awful surnames, like Cumberbatch.”  
  
Donna glared at her sister.  “Cumberbatch happens to have a nice, noble – or as they say here – _posh_ ring to it.”  
  
“I picture it more as the kind of nightmare name that lends itself to all types of creative nicknames,” snickered Carly.  “Not to mention trying to make an appointment or reservation.  I bet Benedict never just gives his name, and they get it right on the first try.  I bet he has to spell it over and over.  Now, if Wanda’s husband had an awful name like that, perhaps Ben decided to use his mother's maiden name when he got older.”  
  
Donna nodded in agreement.  “Good point.”  
  
“I know if I ever married a man, who had a name like Cumberbatch, I’d definitely keep my maiden name,” giggled Carly.  “Saint James may be long, but it's easy to spell.  No one ever gets it wrong.  Thank God, Steve has a nice, simple name like Cipriano.  Everyone gets it right.”  
  
Donna snorted.  “Not everyone, _Mrs. Zipperano_ or did you forget the mix up when you ordered Grandpa’s birthday cake?”  
  
“I briefly considered going back to Saint James after that.”  
  
“So, I guess Wanda couldn’t marry Tim because he was already married, so she went with the white-haired man for comfort, security and a family,”  said Donna.  
  
“And in the meantime they carried on with their wicked ways,” added Carly as she stared at the photo of Wanda and Timothy.  “You know Benedict has the same eyes as Wanda's – look closely and tell me what you think.”  
  
Donna looked closely at the photo of Wanda and compared it to one Carly had in an open window of Benedict.  She could definitely see a resemblance.  
  
“Carly, I think I’ve got the mystery solved!  The more I think about it, the more sense it makes!”  
  
“Go ahead Sherlock, dazzle me.”  
  
“What if Benedict is the secret love child of Wanda and Tim?”  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Wanda Ventham and Timothy Carlton do appear as extras in Atonement in the wedding scene of Paul Marshall and Lola. I read somewhere that they are supposed to be Paul’s family. I could not find their names in the closing credits of the film. 
> 
> 2\. The Comedy Warehouse was once part of Pleasure Island in Downtown Disney in Orlando.
> 
> 3\. I thought we could use a refresher on some events as things continue to unravel. Lord knows I needed one. LOL! 
> 
> 4\. My apologies for any gaps/mistakes in continuity. 
> 
> 5\. Next week: Part One of Cabin Pressure


	56. Chapter 56

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of surprises – both good and bad - in store for all at the Cabin Pressure recording. 
> 
> Note: Once again I’ll be using ******* to indicate breaks in between things happening at the same time.

  
Donna Saint James got into the back of the black cab and gave the driver the address of RADA Studios.  She sat back and thought about the end of her conversation with Carly.  Donna cringed at the memory:  
  
  
  
 _Carly had looked at Donna as if she had grown two heads._  
  
 _“Love child? Are you off the wall, Donna?  There’s no way  Benedict could be their child.”_  
  
 _“Why not?”_  
  
 _“Have you forgotten Wanda’s son, Ben?  He and Benedict look like they’re about the same age.”_  
  
 _“They are the same age.  They’re both 32.  Benedict’s birthday is in two weeks.”_  
  
 _“Their looks are entirely different.  They would have had to be fraternal twins like us.  Do you think it was possible for Wanda Ventham to have had a set of twin sons without her husband’s knowledge?”_  
  
 _“Oh. I see what you mean. Wanda’s son and Benedict definitely had different mothers.  Point made and taken.”_  
  
 _“It’s my fault for setting you off on that tangent, Donna.  I was looking at their eyes and the resemblance was uncanny.  They both have such beautiful blue eyes. We’ll just chalk it up to one of life’s weird coincidences.”_  
  
 _“That’s alright. I’ve seen people who resemble each other who aren’t related, but look as if they could be.  Part of me thinks it would have been very romantic for them to have had a secret love child, while the other part screams: adulterers!”_  
  
 _“By the way Donna, what is Wanda’s son’s name?  Is it just Ben or is Ben short for something?"”_  
  
 _“I don’t know if she ever said.  Come to think of it, she always referred to him as ‘Ben’.  I’m thinking its probably Benjamin.”_  
  
 _“Hmmmm...not necessarily. It could be Benedict or Bennett or Bentley or Benson – or something else British-sounding.  That would be funny if it were Benedict.”_  
  
 _“Good point, Carly; but it doesn’t matter now. I’m not interested in Ben Ventham.  I need to focus on Benedict Cumberbatch.”_  
  
  
  
  
Donna shook her head as she looked out the window at the passing cityscape.  
  
 _Jesus! How dumb was I to think that Benedict is Wanda and Timothy’s child?_  
  
Donna took out her cellphone and sent Benedict a text message:  
  
 **Good Morning!  D**  
  
There was no reply.  
  
 _Gosh!  I hope he isn’t still sleeping.  He’ll be late for his recording.  However, he did say he takes great pride in his work, so he must make sure to be ontime when he’s got a job._  
  
 **I just wanted to thank you for the beautiful cabbage roses!  The florist delivered them as I was getting ready to leave.  Carly was very impressed.  She said you are welcome to send her flowers any day.  They look very nice in your cow vase.  :-)    D**  
  
Again, there was no reply.  
  
 _I hope his colleague’s wife is there, so I’ll have someone to hang out and sit with._  
  
Suddenly, Donna’s text chime went off.  
  
 **Morning!  How are you feeling?  B**  
  
 **Fine.  Are you at the studio yet?  I’m on my way.  D**  
  
 **I’m here in the Green Room going over some last minute changes to the script.  I met Roger for a coffee before we went into the studios and just saw your messages.  His family didn’t come today.  I’m so glad you and Carly like the flowers.  Next time, I’ll be sure to send her some.  B**  
  
 **She was just joking...well, she was half-joking.  Steven isn’t the flower-giving type.  He always forgets.  D**  
  
 **So, you’re the official Saint James family reminder person?  B**  
  
 _Not to my parents.  Those two never need be reminded of anything.  Memories like elephants, thought Donna.  Mom remembers every case she’s taken on, and Dad remembers every play or film he’s ever reviewed._  
  
 **No. I just remind Steve to buy flowers and stuff for my sister.  He’s such  a kind-hearted person.  He means to but always forgets.  D**  
  
 **Brilliant.  I could certainly benefit from your organizational talent…and while we’re on the subject, please don’t forget to remind me to take my car into the shop when I get back from filming.  I’ll be counting on you.  ;-)   B**  
  
 **Wise ass.   D**  
  
 **I wanted to thank you for the excellent wine and delicious biscuits.   B**  
  
 **You’re welcome.  I hope they tasted as good as the first batch did.  D**  
  
 **They’re even better.  I had a couple before I left this morning. I’m thinking of offering you a position as my own personal baker so you can keep me in biscuits.   :-D   B**  
  
 _Hmmm...how about offering me the position of your wife?  Then the baking is automatically included. He seems to be in a playful mood this morning._  
  
 **I don’t think you can afford me.  ;-p    D**  
  
 **How do you know?   I haven’t laid my offer on the table yet.  You’d be surprised at what a nice, big offer it is.   ;-D   B**  
  
 _Oh, my!  Mr. Cumberbatch is in a very playful mood._  
  
 **Somehow, I don’t think you’re talking about money.  D**  
  
 **Tsk tsk.  Such a dirty mind for so early in the day.  B**  
  
 **Moi? You have a very dirty-minded text finger, sir.  D**  
  
 **I’d love to show you how dirty-minded my finger can be.   B**  
  
 **I’d love to feel how dirty-minded your finger is.  D**  
  
 **I aim to please....and I think you’ll find my aim can be quite pleasing.  B**  
  
 **Sounds intriguing, but I’d like to see your offer first.  D**  
  
 **I’d be happy to show it to you in private.  Then you can go over it at your leisure.  B**  
  
 **LOL!  Oh, Benedict! What am I going to do with you?  D**  
  
 **I’m honestly shocked that you’re asking such a question!  However, you’ll find that I’m more than willing to give you very, very explicit instructions on what you can do with me.  ;-D  B**  
  
 **You’re certainly feeling your oats this morning.  D**  
  
 **I’d much rather be feeling yours.  B**  
  
 **You’re driving me mad with desire.   B**  
  
 **And you’re driving me mad with desire.  D**  
  
Donna waited anxiously for his next message, her heart racing.  
  
 _Good gravy!  That conversation got heated fast.  We sure are brazen with the flirting when we’re not face-to-face.  If he were here, I’d suggest we go back to my place so I could rip his clothes off and give him the ride of his life. My panties are starting to feel damp.  Good thing I always have an extra pair on hand._  
  
 **Benedict, are you there?  D**  
  
 **Yes.   B**  
  
 **And?    D**  
  
 **I’m having very lust-filled thoughts and need to get hold of myself before the recording.  B**  
  
 **Might I suggest a stall in the bathroom?  D**  
  
 **Bloody hell, Donna!  One day, I promise I’m going to make you pay up for all your smart ass cock teasing.  B**  
  
 **I’m looking forward to it.   ;-D   D**  
  
 **Fuck me!  B**  
  
 **Unfortunately,  I’m still in the cab.  D**  
  
 **That wasn’t what I meant exactly.  It’s an expression of frustration.  B**  
  
 **Sexual frustration, I take it?   D**  
  
There was no response from Benedict.  
  
 **Sorry for the misunderstanding.  I thought you were giving me instructions.  D**  
  
 **I’m so horny, I can’t stand it. B**  
  
 **Likewise. I think it’s time we had a serious talk about this tension between us.  D**  
  
 **The only thing between us is our clothing.  I have to go. Try and sit in the front row for the best view.   B**  
  
 **I thought you were going to take care of things.  D**  
  
 **Bloody fucking hell!  I mean of the show.  Cheers.  Bx**  
  
 **Okey dokey!  I’ll be wearing a royal blue linen dress and a big smile.  D xoxo**  
  
Donna leaned back in her seat, opened her bag and removed a black and pink silk hand fan she had bought in Chinatown the week before while reviewing a dim sum restaurant.  
  
 _Good thing I kept this in my bag. And I thought I’d have no use for it!_  
  
  
  
  
Ten minutes later the cab pulled up in front of the RADA Studios on Chenies Street.  Donna paid the driver and got out.  She noticed that there was a long line down the block of people waiting to get in to watch the recording.  
  
 _Hmmm...looks like quite a few people are here.  I’m guessing about two or three hundred.  Good thing I don’t have to stand on that line today!  I’ve got my VIP ticket._  
  
Donna climbed the steps and entered the vestibule of the building. A security guard approached her.  
  
“Can I help you?”  
  
Donna smiled and showed him the ticket.  “Yes, I have a VIP ticket for the _Cabin Pressure_ recording.  My friend’s a cast member and told me to just bypass the line and come in here.”  
  
The guard examined the ticket, nodded and pointed to a woman sitting at a desk in a glass cubicle.  “You can check in over there.”  
  
The woman also examined Donna’s ticket, picked up a phone and called for an usher to escort Donna to a medium-sized room that had a bar. She recalled Benedict saying the room also served as a holding pen until they were ready to load the studio for the show.  Donna saw about twenty other people milling about the area.  Some were having a drink.    
  
 _Maybe I’ll get a cup of tea while I wait_ , Donna thought as she crossed the room to the bar.      
  
The handsome young bartender smiled at her.  
  
“What can I get you, Love?”  
  
“Green tea with two demerara sugars, please,” Donna responded.  
  
“Do you fancy regular or decaf?”  
  
“Decaf.”  
  
“Sir, what can I get for you?” the bartender asked the next customer, who was standing behind Donna.  
  
“I’ll have a black coffee, and please put the lady’s tea on my bill,” said James Rhodes as he came to stand beside her.  
  
“James!  What a nice surprise!” Donna exclaimed as they embraced.  
  
James kissed her on both cheeks and stepped back with a huge, dimpled smile.

“You’re looking especially lovely today, Donna.  That color is gorgeous on you.”  
  
“Thank you! Benedict didn’t tell me you were going to be here today.”  
  
 _That’s because the wanker totally forgot about our man date,_ thought James. _But I didn’t._    
  
James laughed.  “I have a feeling the git forgot that he gave me a ticket, bless him. He’s famous for doing that, so it’s not a complete surprise to me that he didn’t remember.”  
  
 _But it will be a complete surprise to him just as soon as he walks out onto that stage and sees me sitting next to Donna.  I can’t wait to see his face!_  
  
Donna laughed along with James.  “He’ll be so surprised to see you in the audience.”  
  
 _And not in a good way,_ thought James with amusement.  _He’s not stupid, so he’ll realize right away that this is his payback for taking it upon himself to cancel my date with Donna._  
  
“How long ago did he give you the ticket?” inquired Donna.  
  
James thought for a minute as he stroked his beard.  “He gave me tickets to all three recordings at the same time, so that would be several months ago.  There was a long break between the second and this one because Roger Allam and Ben had prior commitments. Ben and I always make a night of it and go out for dinner afterwards.  We jokingly refer to the ritual as our man date.”  
  
“Where do you two usually wind up?” Donna asked. “A pub?”  
  
“Heavens, no!  When Ben and I have dinner together, we like to eat well.  I have a reservation for us at the Tate Modern's restaurant tonight.”  
  
 _Oh, oh. Benedict and I already have plans for dinner tonight.  This is going to get sticky mighty fast. I guess the right thing would be for me to back out and let them go being James had made plans with him first._  
  
The bartender brought their drinks, and James settled the bill.  He indicated a table in the corner where they could sit and chat.  
  
“Donna, you look a bit upset.  Did you and Ben make plans for after the recording?”  
  
Donna took a sip of tea and sighed.  “My, this _is_ an awkward situation, isn’t it? Benedict apparently forgot about your dinner, too.  He said we’d get something to eat after the recording.  I feel just awful, Jimmy.  I don’t want to ruin your evening. Why don’t you and Benedict go to dinner like you originally planned, and I can go home.  I have plenty of things I can do.”  
  
“Absolutely not!,” James said adamantly as he put down his coffee cup. “I have an idea.  I’m sure they can squeeze in another chair at the Tate.  Let me go ring them. The reception’s crap in here, so I’ll be right back.”  
  
“Wait!  I really wish you wouldn’t….” Donna said to his retreating back as he disappeared out of the room.  
  
  
  
  
James walked down the hallway until he came to the spot where he recalled being able to get a signal during his last visit to the studio.  
  
 _Benedict will be spitting flames like Smaug the dragon when I tell him I’ve arranged for all of us to have dinner together tonight,_ thought James Rhodes with a smirk as he took his mobile out of his pocket and punched in a number.

The recipient of James' call picked up on the second ring. He felt himself smile at the sound of the voice on the other end.

"Hello there.  I thought you were on your makeup date."

"Hello there yourself.  I've got a few minutes before they load the show and thought I'd ring you up...."

  
  
  
  
Donna finished her tea just as James returned to the table ten minutes later, wearing a huge smile.     
  
“Good news! I called the Tate, and everything is sorted,” he said glancing at his watch.  “If you need to use the loo, now would be the time, Love. Someone should be coming to let us into the studio any time.  The VIP ticket holders get to choose their seats first.”  
  
As soon as Donna returned to the bar area from using the restroom, the same usher who had escorted her inside the building came to let them inside the studio.  James quickly led her to the front row, and they sat in the center.  The stage was right in front of them.  It was bare except for a row of four chairs opposite them against the wall and two microphones on the stage.  One was in the center and the other was off to the side.    
  
“I’m so glad you’re here, Jimmy.  It’s always fun to watch these things with someone you know,”  said Donna as the remainder of the audience began to file into the studio and pick their seats.    
  
“Yeah, I have a feeling this is going to be quite a lot of fun today,” James agreed with a huge grin.  
  
 _On so many different levels._

  
  
  
*************************************************************  
  
  
“Damn blasted traffic!” exclaimed Wanda Ventham as the cab carrying her, Timothy and Una Stubbs pulled up in front of the RADA Studios.  “I hope there are still some decent seats left.”  
  
“Don’t we have VIP seats?” asked Una as she got out of the cab.  “Last time I came to see a show recorded, the VIP guests were let in the studio first.”  
  
“Supposedly,” replied Timothy as he paid the driver.  “However, I don’t see a queue, so I have a feeling they’ve already let the audience inside.”  
  
“We’re good as long as they haven’t loaded the studio yet,” added Wanda.  “But we won’t know until we’re inside and past security.”  
  


  
*************************************************************

  
  
“Are you familiar with _Cabin Pressure_ at all?” James asked Donna.  
  
“Yeah.  Benedict had a CD of the first season, so I was able to listen to all the episodes,” replied Donna.  “I have to say it's a very funny show.  We have nothing like this on radio in the US, which is sad.  I’d love to be out driving and able to tune into something like this rather than just music or news or talk shows.”  
  
“It’s even more fun to watch them record it,” said James. “Especially when they make mistakes.”  
  
“How long does it take?”  
  
“Roughly two hours.  First, the producer comes out to do a warm up.  Then once the general announcements are made and the cast introduced, they get right to it.  They will go right though the episode – unless someone makes a mistake.  Then they stop and do it over.  When they’re done, the producer comes out and asks them to re-record certain bits that weren’t to his liking.  Then there’s a short break, and they come back and do the same for the second episode.”  
  
“What happens afterwards?  Benedict didn’t say where to meet him.”  
  
“The cast sometimes stays to chat after the show with the audience for a bit.  They also take photos and sign autographs.”  
  
 _He mentioned something about meeting his co-stars. I wonder what he will introduce me as at this point?_  
  
“If we’re running late to dinner, Ben will just head backstage and leave from that exit.”  
  
“What about the audience?  Aren’t they disappointed?”  
  
“John Finnemore always stays and hangs out for awhile.  Not only is he the show’s creator and writer, but he plays Arthur as well.  The audience feedback is very important to him.”  
  
“I guess they also aren’t all that famous,” mused Donna. “So it’s not a big deal.”  
  
James looked taken aback and shook his head. “Ah, that’s where you’re wrong.  Stephanie Cole has had a long and distinguished career in stage, film and radio.  Roger Allam also has a following – he’s quite a famous stage actor and does his share of film and telly.”  
  
 _I get it.  Benedict’s the one who isn’t famous – he’s the expendable one._  
  
“These are the last shows of Season Two.  Last year John held a wrap dinner for the cast and crew afterwards.  I’m surprised Ben didn’t say anything about that to you.”  
  
“He certainly didn’t say anything about one,” said Donna. “I would have written it on my calendar.”  
  
 _Unless he’s going to surprise her afterwards.  Shit.  Then my carefully laid plans will be all cocked up,_ thought James.  _I recall last year’s just being for cast and crew members only. Unless the twit forgot about it, which is entirely possible. Then I’ll take Donna for dinner by myself._  
  
 _I wonder if that is what Benedict meant by getting a bite to eat?  Maybe he plans to bring me to the cast dinner._    
  
Donna looked at James and shrugged.  “It’s a good thing I wore this dress – you never know who you’re going to meet sometimes.”

  
  
*************************************************************  
  
  
Wanda, Timothy and Una rushed into the Rada building and presented their tickets to the woman behind the desk in the glassed-in cubicle, as the security guard had left his post.    
  
“We have VIP tickets for _Cabin Pressure_.  My son is part of the cast,” said Wanda proudly.  
  
 _Like she cares_ , thought Timothy.  _That woman could give two shits._  
  
The woman smiled warmly at Wanda.  “Are you John’s mum?”  
  
“No.  Benedict Cumberbatches’,” replied Wanda, head held high.  
  
 _She must see so many actors come and go all day, I doubt she even knows who Benedict is_ , mused Timothy.  
  
“Oh, Benedict’s mum!  Your son is such a sweet young man.  He has the loveliest manners - so polite and friendly all the time,” the woman gushed.  
  
“That’s _my_ son!” agreed Wanda with a huge smile.  
  
 _My son always makes such a good impression,_ thought Wanda. _Harrow was worth every pence we paid just for his manners alone._  
  
“Always late, too,” the woman added with a hearty laugh.  “More times than not, he comes flying through that door with his coat open and flapping behind him like wings.”  
  
“Now, that’s _my_ son!” chuckled Timothy. “Bless him.”  
  
 _Such a pity.  All that money and Harrow failed to teach him time management skills.  I should have asked for a partial refund on the tuition._  
  
“I’ll get the usher to take you right to the studio,” said the woman picking up her phone.  
  
“They’ve already loaded the studio, yes?” asked Timothy.  
  
“I’m afraid so.  They going to start in a few minutes.  Good thing you got here, we were about to give your seats to the standbys,”  she said indicating a small queue consisting of two girls and one older man.  
  
  
  
*************************************************************  
  
  
Donna Saint James opened her handbag and retrieved a small tin of the chocolate mints Benedict had given her from Fortnum and Mason.  
  
“Mint?” she asked James holding out the tin to him.  “These are delicious.”  
  
“Do I smell dark chocolate?” James peered into the tin.  “I adore dark chocolate.”  
  
“Benedict gave them to me.  He’s always eating them, and now he’s got me hooked on them.”  
  
 _He gave them to her.  I think I’ll pass._  
  
“No thanks,” said James, as he popped a stick of cinnamon gum in his mouth.  “I’ll stick with my gum.  It lasts longer.”  
  
 _Cumberbatch has certainly been busy buying her candy and flowers and custom pottery. He’s afraid of me vying for her affections_.  
  
“Looks like all the seats are filled,” observed Donna glancing behind her.  “I hope they get started soon.  I’m so excited!”  
  
  
*************************************************************  
  
  
“Here you are – the last three vacant seats,” said the usher.  “Enjoy the show!”  
  
“Hells bells! Could we get any farther away?” asked Wanda miserably as she saw their seats were in the last row of the audience.  “Ben will never see us this far back.”  
  
“It’s not the cabby’s fault there was an accident blocking the road,” said Timothy.  “Let’s make the best of it and sit down.”  
  
“Look at it this way, Love.  They could have given away our seats to those people waiting on the standby queue,” said Una.  “We’re lucky to have these.”  
  
“Why don’t you go in first, Una,” offered Wanda. “I’ll sit in the middle, and Tim can have the seat on the end, so he can stretch his legs out in the aisle.”  
  
“I’ll shoot Ben a text letting him know we’re here, because I’m sure he’s forgotten he gave us tickets,” chuckled Timothy.  
  
  
 *************************************************************  
  
  
James Rhodes turned to survey the audience behind him.  
  
“You’re right, Donna.  Not a vacant seat in the house.  It’s always filled to capacity. The show is gaining in popularity, and...”  
  
 _Isn’t that Timothy and Wanda in the last row with one of Wanda’s friends?_    
  
James poked Donna’s arm.  “Apparently, we’re not the only ones Ben gave tickets to.  His parents are here as well. Looks like his mum brought her friend along.  I’ve met the lady at their flat, but can’t recall her name for the life of me.  All I know is she’s an actress, too.”  
  
 _Parents??  He didn’t say his parents had tickets for the recording today.  We just got finished saying how we weren’t ready to tell our parents about us yet, and now we’re all in the same room_.    
  
“Where?” asked Donna looking around in a panic.  
  
“Last row on the left.”  
  
  
*************************************************************  
  
   
Wanda huffed as the man in front of her stopped slouching and sat up straight, successfully blocking her view of the stage.    
  
“Why do I always get the tall ones in front of me?” she complained quietly to Timothy.  “I can’t see a damn thing but the back of his bloody bald head.”  
  
“How about if we change seats?  The girl in front of me is quite short,” offered Timothy.  “I know you ladies like to sit together, but....”  
  
“I’ll take you up on your offer,” said Wanda, immediately standing up.    
  
  
*************************************************************  
  
  
The background music was turned off to signal the start of the show.  Donna turned her attention to a man named, David Tyler, who had just walked out onto the stage from the control room.  James whispered that he was the producer and always did a little warm up before the cast was introduced.  Donna listened attentively as David Tyler talked and joked with the audience.  Then he spoke about the show and the two episodes they were going to see recorded and what was expected of the audience.    
  
 _It would be rude to turn around and look, but I really need to see what Benedict’s mother looks like.  This is killing me,_ thought Donna as she ate another chocolate mint.    
  
  
*************************************************************  
  
  
Wanda settled in her seat and listened to the producer go through his spiel about what was and wasn’t expected of the audience.    
  
 _I’m feeling a bit peckish.  I think I’ll have some of that almond toffee._  
  
She quietly opened her handbag and removed the small box of candy she had purchased from Melt Chocolate Shop in Notting Hill. As Wanda untied the ribbon, her bag slid off her lap onto the floor spilling its contents.  
  
 _Shit!  I need to pick that up before they turn down the lights._  
  
“Tim, I need you to hold this, please,” Wanda whispered urgently, as she held out the box to him.    
  
“I don’t fancy any candy right now,” said Timothy pushing her hand away, as he studied the audience around them.  
  
“It’s your favourite – the milk chocolate almond butter toffee. Ask Una if she’d like some.  I dropped my bag and everything is all over the floor, so I need you to take the box while I pick up my things.”  
  
Timothy looked down at the contents of his wife’s bag strewn on the floor, while she shoved the candy box into his hands and ducked down to retrieve everything.  
   
He leaned over to whisper to Una.  “We might as well have some candy, while Wanda’s on the floor,” he said holding the box while Una opened it.    
  
  
*************************************************************

  
As soon as David Tyler finished speaking, Donna took a good look behind her.  There in the last row on the left sat Timothy Cumberbatch.  He was holding out a small white box to a woman with short, softly-curled, medium brown hair, who sat beside him.  The woman wore large round, black framed, owl-like glasses.  Their heads were together, and they were smiling as they took what appeared to be candy out of the box.    
  
 _Holy cow!  That’s Benedict’s mother.  She’s so cute and small.  I love the glasses – she looks just like an owl with them.  He did say she had a fondness for owls.  I guess the heavy woman with the gray hair on the other side of her is her friend._  
  
Donna turned around as David Tyler began to introduce the cast.  She felt a sense of excitement as Stephanie Cole was introduced and walked out onto the stage to a lot of cheering and applause.    
  
“Oh!  I know who she is!  My Grandfather used to watch a show on PBS with her when we were little.  I think it was called _Waiting for God_ ,” said Donna excitedly.  
  
James nodded.  “Yes.  She played Diana Trent.”  
  
“I can’t wait to see Ben!  I’m so excited,” Donna whispered, as she leaned close to him and grabbed his hand.  
  
“Me, too,” said James with a smile, as he put his arm around the back of Donna’s seat.  
  
 _I’m excited for different reasons than you are, Donna,_ thought James as he tried to keep from smirking.  
  
Roger Allam was introduced next.  He also walked out to a generous amount of cheers and applause.  
  
“He’s very distinguished looking,” commented Donna.  
  
“Wait until you hear his voice in person,” said James. “It’s even better than on the radio. He’s the perfect foil for Ben’s character.”  
  
Donna shivered as cold air suddenly washed over her from above. The air conditioning had apparently kicked in.  Donna looked up to see that the vent was situated right over their seats.  She shifted uncomfortably in her seat as an icy cold breeze blew down on her.    
  
“They must have lowered the temperature,” Donna whispered to James.  “I’m never cold.  My punishment for wearing a sleeveless dress.”  
  
 _James doesn’t look a bit cold, but then he’s wearing a long-sleeved sweater for God’s sake!   These Englishmen are always cold._  
  
“Here, lean closer to me then,” offered James as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders.  He rubbed her upper arm.  “Better?”  
  
 _Oh, this is even better than what I had in mind.  The wanker will think we’re having a proper cuddle right in front of his nose._  
  
“Oh, yes.  Thank you, James.  Are you comfortable?”  
  
James smiled at her.  “Absolutely.”  
  
“Benedict Cumberbatch!”  
  
Donna beamed and clapped loudly as Benedict walked out onto the stage to a moderate amount of applause and cheering, giving a little wave as he stood beside Roger Allam.  He was wearing light blue jeans, a crisp, white button down shirt and white sneakers. His auburn curls were attractively tousled.  Donna noticed that he kept his attention turned on the producer/director.  
  
 _He looks so handsome.  I love those tight jeans.  I wish he’d look over here, but I guess he doesn't want to be distracted._  
  
  
*************************************************************  
  
  
Wanda finished getting her handbag in order and sat up in her seat just as the introductions were being made.  Timothy was on his second piece of the bite-sized toffee.  
  
“I thought you didn’t fancy any candy.”  
  
“It’s getting warm in here, and I don’t want it to melt.”  
  
“Ah, they just cranked up the air con!  I can feel it,” said Wanda. “Brrrrr. I'm glad I thought to bring along a cardigan.”  
  
“Benedict Cumberbatch!” announced David Tyler.  
  
Wanda and Timothy applauded enthusiastically as their son took his place on the stage.  
  
“Oh, he looks so handsome, Tim.  That dumb little dolly bird is really missing out,” Wanda whispered to Timothy.  “Had she played her cards right, she could have been sitting here with us watching the show.”  
  
Timothy didn’t reply.  He had stopped applauding as John Finnemore took his place on stage to lots of cheering and applause.  
  
“She _is_ sitting here,” mumbled Timothy. “Just not with us.”  
  
“What? What are you talking about?”  
  
Timothy pointed.  “First row, center.  If my eyes aren’t playing tricks on me, that’s Donna Saint James sitting beside James Rhodes....and he has his bloody arm around her.”  
  
Una overheard Timothy and uttered a small gasp.  She leaned over Timothy to whisper to Wanda.  
  
“Look, Wanda! They’re sitting right in front of Benedict.  She’s wearing a bright blue linen dress.”  
  
Before Wanda could locate Donna, the lights went down for the show to begin recording.  
  
 _Bloody fucking hell!  Now, I have to wait for the break,_ thought Wanda disgustedly as she reached for a piece of candy.  
  
  
*************************************************************  
  
  
Benedict and Roger Allam stood in front of the microphone and did the pre-show teaser.  Then Benedict read the opening credits for the show, which was called Kuala Lumpur.  When he finished, he turned and took his seat while Stephanie and John began to read their lines.  
  
 _Donna sent a text that she was sitting in the front row, wearing a blue dress. I should be able to pick her out easily enough._  
  
His ice blue eyes scanned the first row, which was partially illuminated because of the spotlight over the stage and came to rest on Donna.  She smiled and gave him a discrete little wave of her fingers.  
  
 _There she is!  She always looks so fucking pulled together. Simply gorgeous. I can’t wait to introduce her around afterwards._  
  
It was then that Benedict Cumberbatch noticed someone else waving at him.  It was James Rhodes, and he was sitting next to Donna with his arm around her shoulders.  He smiled widely at Benedict and winked, as Benedict got up to take his place at the microphone.    
  
Benedict stood in front of the microphone and read his first line. His blood was boiling upon seeing James cuddling close to Donna.  
  
“Hello? Carolyn? Um, I just had a thought.”  
  
“Oh good! A pilot with a thought: how the gods smile upon me!”  
  
“It just occurred to me, for weeks like this, we really ought to have a pilates lounge.”

Stephanie looked up at Benedict as soon as she realized he made a mistake when saying pilots lounge.  
  
“A what?”  She glanced towards the control room expectantly. 

The green light that indicated recording was in progress changed to red. 

“Cut!” came David Tyler’s voice over the microphone in the control room.  “It’s pilot’s lounge, Benedict.”  
  
Benedict felt his face redden.  “Shit! Sorry.”  
  
 _Concentrate, Benedict.  Don’t let Rhodes upset you. He’s enjoying this.  You need to impress Donna._  
  
“Let’s try it again…and action.”  
  
Benedict rubbed the back of his neck as he delivered his line perfectly.  
  
“It just occurred to me, for weeks like this, we really ought to have a pilot’s lounge.”  
  
“A what?”  
  
“A pilots’ lounge.”  
  
“Martin, the very last thing I want to do is encourage either of you to do any more lounging than you already do.”  
  
Benedict glanced up at James, who lifted Donna’s hair to whisper in her ear.  Donna covered her mouth and giggled silently.  
  
 _What did the prick say to her?  Probably made fun of me for flubbing my line._  
  
“It wouldn’t be for lounging in! It would be for our beefings…”

The green light that indicated recording was in progress changed to red.   
   
“And cut! That’s briefings, Benedict.”  
  
 _Oh, bollocks!  Not again!  I’m not going to look at them until I’m done._  
  
“Oh, crumpets!  Sorry, David, Stephanie.”  
  
  
*************************************************************

  
  
Donna watched as Benedict sat down almost directly in front on her.  He crossed his legs, and she felt a let down.  He was wearing patterned socks in shades of gray, blue and green.    
  
 _Damn!  Just patterned gray socks today.  I’m so disappointed,_ she thought as she popped another chocolate mint.  _The pattern is very different though. I kind of like it._  
  
As Donna continued to study the pattern on his socks, she realized what she was looking at and almost choked on her mint.    
  
 _Holy cow! The pattern is made up of OWLS.  Oh, that is just too funny!  It’s so subtle I didn’t realize it._  
  
“Are you okay, Donna?” James asked quietly while patting her on the back.    
  
Donna nodded her head.  “Yes.  Fine.  Look at his socks – the pattern is made up of freaking owls!”  
  
James took a close look at Benedict’s legs and shook his head in amazement.

“For fuck’s sake...you’re right.  I guess tomorrow is laundry day at his house,” he quipped.  
  
  
*************************************************************    
  
  
“Wanda, you’re not paying attention,” hissed Timothy. “Watch the show, not the bloody audience.”  
  
“I can’t see her, damn it!”  
  
“You’re going to have to wait until the break when the lights come back up. Have a chocolate. It’ll give you something to gnash your teeth on.”  
  
Wanda bit into the toffee and tried to concentrate on her son’s deep, baritone voice.    
  
 _Ben looks so nice today.  His clothes are freshly pressed.  Actually, I do think that shirt is new. Oh, he’s wearing the owl socks I put in his stocking last Christmas!   Wait.  He’s looking at someone in the audience._ _Maybe the Barbecoa bird is here._  
  
Wanda squeezed Timothy’s arm excitedly.  He held the candy box away, so as she couldn’t reach it.  
  
 _Good thing we’re in the last row.  No one to disturb, but me!_   he thought.  
  
“You just had a piece, Pet.  How about saving some candy for the rest of us?”  
  
“I don’t fancy any candy!”

“Well that’s a first,” he chuckled. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard those words pass your beautiful lips.”

The girl in front of Wanda turned around and gave them a dirty look.

“Can you two just eat the damn candy and be quiet please!”

_Well done you, Wanda. You managed to find someone to annoy besides me_.  
  
“Sorry,” said Timothy, as he glared at his wife.  “Happy?” he sneered in a voice barely above a whisper.  “She told us.”  
  
Wanda grabbed his arm and tugged urgently. “Come closer!”  
  
“Oh, are you trying to tell me that you fancy a quick snog then?  You’re shameless, my darling,” whispered Timothy as he leaned in and kissed Wanda on the lips and then on the tip of her nose.  “And I love it.”  
  
The girl in front of them turned around again and glowered at them.

“I can’t believe you two snogging back there at your age. It’s bloody disgusting!”  
  
“Jealous? You should be so lucky to have a man as sexy as mine is when you’re my age,” snapped Wanda. “Now, turn around and mind your own business.”  
  
The girl turned back around, and Timothy leaned close to Wanda and whispered in her ear.  “My ego appreciates the boost.  Thank you, Pet.”  
  
“I want you to look at your son. He definitely recognized someone in the audience.  At first, he looked happy, then his face clouded over like an approaching storm.”  
  
“How in the hell can you notice all that from back here?” asked Timothy in a bewildered tone. “Ben looks exactly the same as he did when he came out.  Impassive, except when he has to do his lines.”  
  
“Trust me.  A mother notices things like that in her child.  There was a slight flicker of recognition – the left corner of his mouth started to turn up.”  
  
“I didn’t see that.”  
  
“His dimple started to show.  That’s how I can tell.  He was happy to see whomever it was he spotted in the audience.”  
  
“He also could have been pleased that he farted and no one was the wiser for all you know.”  
  
Timothy felt Wanda’s foot come down on his.    
  
“Ouch!”  
  
“SHUT UP!” The girl in front of them said loudly. “Or I’ll fetch the usher to kick you two out!  I swear I will.”

The green light that indicated recording was in progress changed to red. 

"I'm picking up what sounds like an argument coming from somewhere in the audience.  May I just remind everyone that when the green light is on, it means we're recording.  Laughter is most welcome. Bickering - not so much. Thank you." 

Timothy felt his face redden as the cast craned their necks to see who in the audience had caused the interruption.

_Jolly good, Wanda.  We'll be easy to spot because everyone around us is staring. It's as good as if we held up a red flag and waved it._  
  
“Our apologies,” said Timothy as he shot daggers at his wife.

"Okay then," came David Tyler's voice. "Benedict let's take it from the top of the scene where your first line is:  Douglas, an illegal pub on an airfield is incredibly dangerous _and_ irresponsible....and action."

The red light changed to green as the recording began again.  
  
Wanda took the candy box from Timothy and helped herself to a piece.  
  
“Well done, Wanda. You’ve seemed to have found us an audience.  Happy?”  
  
“No.  Ben definitely recognized somebody down there.”  
  
“It was Donna Saint James and Jimmy Rhodes.  He must have invited them.”  
  
“I also noticed that his eyes darkened for only a moment. You must know what I’m talking about – that look Benedict gets in his eyes whenever he’s stropy and about to explode.  I know that look very well.”  
  
“Indeed. Perhaps that’s because it’s so often turned on _you_.”  
  
The girl turned around again and growled in a low voice. “I mean it - shut up!  I can’t hear them!  I _will_ call for the usher. I swear on all that is holy, I will!”  
  
“Sorry,” snapped Wanda and Timothy as they both glared at each other and reached for the chocolate.  
  
  
*************************************************************  
  
Benedict finished his scene, and John Finnemore asked for a five minute break as he was re-writing a couple of lines.  Benedict plopped down beside Roger Allan, who leaned close enough to whisper in Benedict's ear.

"Can you believe those people making such a fuss in the back of the audience? I could hear them from here.  How distracting and cheeky!"

"I would have had them tossed out on their arses," said Benedict. "Such a lack of respect for our craft.  I couldn't see them. Could you?"

"No. It was too dark to make them out.  All I know is they were sitting all the way in the back near the exit."

"David should have called for an usher to take them out.  I wouldn't have put up with that shit."

Roger nodded in agreement and went back to following the script.

Benedict opened one of his water bottles and took a swig.  Then he gazed out at the audience until his eyes rested on Donna and James.  Donna was engrossed in Stephanie and John’s scene, while James was staring straight at him with a mischievous gleam in his eye. Their eyes locked and James smiled at him again.  
  
 _What in the fuck is he doing here?  That motherfucking wanker is sitting next to my woman with his arm around her all nice and comforting like their dating. He’s not on a date with her._  
  
Benedict studied James with narrowed eyes.  
  
 _Or perhaps he thinks he is. I bet this is my payback for canceling their date._  
  
Roger Allam leaned close to Benedict again and whispered behind his script.  
  
“Is your girlfriend here?”  
  
“Front row, center.  Long, dark hair and wearing the blue dress.”  
  
“Is that her sat next to the bearded guy with the glasses and long hair?”  
  
 _Isn’t this just wonderful?  Roger must be thinking:   The guy with his arm around Ben’s girlfriend as if they were the ones dating. I never should have said anything so soon.  I should have kept my mouth filter turned the fuck off until we were an official couple. I was just so excited to show her off to everyone._  
  
“Erm...yeah.  That’s Donna,” replied Benedict rubbing the back of his neck.  
  
Roger nodded.  “Ah, she’s quite the looker.  Who’s the guy keeping her warm?”  
  
“My friend, Jimmy.”  
  
“He seems rather fond of her.”  
  
“Yeah.  They get along great.”  
  
“Dare I say, Ben, you don’t need friends like that.”  
  
As Benedict and Roger got up to do their next scene, it dawned on Benedict how James Rhodes came to be at the recording.  
  
 _Fuck me! It’s my fault he’s here.  I gave Jimmy the ticket to the show months ago. I guess I can’t fault him for using it....however, I can fault him for draping himself over Donna like a cheap sale coat in a bloody thrift shop._  
  
  
*************************************************************  
  
  
Once the show was recorded, David Tyler came out to have the cast re-do certain lines.  Benedict luckily only had to re-do two lines.  He approached the microphone with Stephanie, and they began to read their lines. Afterwards, he sat down and finished his first bottle of water while waiting for the all-clear signal to take a break.  
  
Benedict sat and looked around at the audience while Stephanie and John got up to re-record their bits.  His eyes roamed the sea of faces, trying to pick out any other familiar ones in the semi-darkness.  He pulled out his mobile and saw he had several texts, which he took a peek at.  
  
 **Your mother and I are in the last row, stage right with Una.  Dad**  
  
Benedict’s eyes went to the last row and could just make out his father’s head.  He appeared to be sitting in between Una and his mother.    
  
 _Bloody hell! What are they doing here? Of course....I gave them tickets.  I gave out tickets to half of London apparently. This is just awful.  I’m not ready to introduce them to Donna just yet. Mum will cross examine her like a seasoned barrister in the Old Bailey. Donna will never know what hit her.  I can’t have this._  
  
Benedict scrolled to the next text.  It was from Donna:  
  
 **You’ll never guess who’s here:  James!  I ran into him in the bar.  You didn’t tell me he was coming.  Can’t wait to see you.  Dx**  
  
 _And what an unwelcome surprise that was. I saw the wanker rubbing your shoulder, which is why I flubbed my line the first time. Then he pulled back your hair to whisper in your ear, which is why I flubbed the second time.  If I didn’t know better, I’d say he did that on purpose; so I’d cock up my lines._  
  
The next text was from Wanda:  
  
 **Dad and I are in the last row with Una on the very end near the exit door.  We hit traffic. Will wait for you after the show in the bar area.  Maybe we can have tea afterwards. Mum xoxo**  
  
 _God help me. I’m going to have to come up with an excuse not to spend a lot of time with them....I’ll just chat with them a bit and tell them I have dinner plans. Surely, they’ll understand. I need to get Donna away from Rhodes and my parents, until we can sort things out between us.  I’m not going to wait the three weeks. I won’t be able to rest easy while I’m away if I’m constantly worrying about him.  I don’t need to get that ulcer back._  
  
Benedict quickly scrolled to the next text, which was from James:  
  
 **Seems you forgot we had a man-date today.  My feelings are crushed, but you can make it up to me by buying me dinner. You’ll love the place I picked – nice and expensive .  Jx**  
  
 _Fuckity, fuck, fuck!  He’s expecting us to have dinner after the recording. I’ve got reservations at the Tate Modern for Donna and I. I’ve got to think this over._  
  
Benedict pocketed his mobile and realized that the recording had come to a halt.  Stephanie was standing in front of the microphone while John had gone into the control room and was talking with David Tyler and the engineer.  They were all frowning.    
  
“It appears that they’re having problems with the equipment,” said Roger, stretching out his long legs and stifling a yawn.  “I wish they’d let us go.  I really need a loo break.”  
  
  
*************************************************************  
  
  
“I wonder what’s wrong?” asked Donna.  “They’ve been in that room for quite awhile.”  
  
James shrugged.  “Not sure, but I’d wager a bet that something’s broken down.”

"Did you hear those people arguing behind us?  That was so damn rude and disrespectful to the cast," said Donna.

"There are cheeky people everywhere, Donna.  I would have asked the rude bastards to leave."  
  
Donna looked behind her, as one of the crew left the room.  The hallway light illuminated the last row, so she could clearly see Timothy Cumberbatch and his wife, who was leaning over him to talk to the woman sitting on the other side of her husband.  She blinked as she recognized Wanda Ventham.  
  
 _It’s Wanda!  She’s Timothy’s wife’s friend!  And they’re all here sitting together.  Holy shit!_  
  
Donna turned back around. She felt both sad and flustered.  
  
“Do you know Benedict’s parents well, Jimmy?”  
  
“Pretty well, I’d say.  Why?”  
  
“Would you say they have a good marriage?”  
  
James pushed his glasses up onto the bridge of his nose.  
  
“Oh, yeah.  One of the best I’ve ever seen.  They get along very well.  Benedict comes from a very happy home.  No mental spare baggage there,” he laughed.    
  
 _Hmmm..Timothy Cumberbatch is one hell of an actor – and so is Wanda Ventham.  Carrying on like that right under everyone’s nose! I can’t believe Timothy would stoop so low as to have an affair with his wife’s friend.  That is just disgusting.  And Wanda should be ashamed of herself!  I want to just shake some sense into her. I never thought of her as ‘the other woman’.  She seems so nice and...motherly.  She’s a good actress alright.  Wait until I tell Carly.  She won’t believe it._  
  
“Ben’s mom looks so sweet.”  
  
“Oh, Ben’s mum is just a doll!  Not only is she a brilliant actress in her own right, but she’s also funny as hell – she’s got this brash sense of humour that is just delightful. I’ll introduce you to her during the break, since you already met Tim.”  
  
 _Jesus Christ!  No.  You can’t do that.  Ben doesn’t want us to meet yet.  I can’t let him do that._  
  
  
*************************************************************  
  
  
John Finnemore finally came back out on the stage and motioned for Stephanie to take her seat.  He walked over to the microphone and smiled disarmingly at the audience.  
  
“Hi Everybody!  Sorry about the wait.  I hope you enjoyed the first show...”  
  
Everyone applauded and cheered.    
  
“Brilliant!”  
  
Everyone laughed uproariously as ‘brilliant’ was his character’s favourite catch phrase.  
  
“We usually take a thirty minute break so our cast can rest their voices and use the loo.  However, we’ve had an equipment malfunction....”  
  
The audience groaned at the thought of having to miss the second recording.  
  
John held up his hands.  “Wait!  There’s no need to get our knickers in a twist.  We expect to have everything sorted and repaired in about an hour, so we can get on with the recording of our next show. You are all welcome to stay.”  
  
The audience applauded at the good news.  
  
“Now, we don’t want you good people to be cooped up in this studio.  Hell, we won’t even do that to our cast,” John laughed as he cast a glance behind him at the cast, who silently applauded him.    
  
“Jolly good!  He’s giving _us_ a loo break, too!” said Roger Allam with a smirk. “How very generous of you, John!”    
  
The audience laughed along with Roger.    
  
John held up his hands again.  
  
“Let’s take an hour break.  Go out, stretch your legs, have a cuppa and let’s all meet back here at half three ready to record ‘Limerick’.  Sound good?”  
  
The audience cheered and applauded in agreement as the lights came back up.  
  
  
*************************************************************  
  
  
“Hells bells!” exclaimed Wanda, as she got to her feet.    
  
“Let’s go across the street to Cafe Nero and get a coffee,” suggested Una.  “Then we can take a walk.”  
  
“First, I plan to do some covert bird watching,” said Wanda putting her handbag over her shoulder.  “Let’s see where she goes with Jimmy Rhodes.”  
  
“She’s obviously on a date with Ben’s friend,” pointed out Una.  “He’s had his arm around her the whole time.”  
  
“Wait just a minute, Mata Hari. I’m texting Ben to see what his plans are.  Maybe we can meet him now during his break if he can’t do tea afterwards,” said Timothy.    
  
“Jolly good idea!” said Wanda, as her eyes were drawn to the front row.  
  
Donna Saint James was staring up at her.  As soon as their eyes locked, Donna put her head down and looked away as if she hadn’t seen Wanda.  
  
“Looks like you’re not the only one doing covert surveillance,” said Una.  “You’re little bird was watching you.”  
  
“And she pretended she didn’t see me!” said Wanda.  “How strange is that?”  
  
“Very. However, it depends on whose behaviour you want to compare it to.  You and I have done some fairly strange things recently, Wanda,” replied Timothy. “Running a top secret ad, clandestine interviews, covert surveillance at farmers markets.”  
  
“I prefer to call it research. Daughter-in-Law research,” remarked Wanda Ventham as she tossed her head and turned to leave.  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. This is a bit of the recording of Limerick, which is the second show Donna saw: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zDE1bL65ncg
> 
> 2\. I’ve never been to a Cabin Pressure recording, so my rendition of it is based primarily from reading the observations of those who had gone, along with a healthy dose of my imagination. 
> 
> 3\. The lines from Kuala Lumpur were taken from an on-line transcript I came across (it may not be word-for-word).
> 
> 4\. Benedict’s owl socks: http://media-cache-cd0.pinimg.com/736x/93/d9/c0/93d9c0b44aa60a49a1c38e724dc39680.jpg
> 
> 5\. My apologies for any errors in continuity. This was a difficult chapter to write.


	57. Chapter 57

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Cabin Pressure recording – Part Two. 
> 
> Note: Once again I’ll be using ******* to indicate breaks in between things happening at the same time.

  
Benedict Cumberbatch had just entered the green room when his mobile began to vibrate.  He pulled it out of his pocket and noted that the caller ID showed it was his mother.  
  
 _I’ll let this go to voicemail while I figure out what to do.  I wonder if Dad has seen Jimmy and Donna yet.  Mum probably has and will want to know all about Jimmy’s ‘date’.  They were down front, so they’ll be one of the last ones out of the studio.  Perhaps by that time Mum and Dad will have gone outside to have a drink somewhere.  But what if Jimmy and Donna decide to go to the same pub or bar?  For all I know they may all be standing around getting acquainted by now._  
  
It was then Benedict realized Stephanie was talking to him.  He immediately shoved his mobile in his pocket.  
  
“Benedict, Roger and I are going over to the Radisson Blu for a cream tea.  Do you fancy coming along?”  
  
“Your girlfriend is welcome to join us,” chimed in Roger.  
  
“Oh, yes, please do invite her, Ben – I’d love to meet her!” exclaimed Stephanie.  “Roger was telling me she how pretty she is.”  
  
“Your mate is welcome as well,” added Roger. “The more, the merrier.”  
  
 _Not in this case, Roger.  Less is definitely more._  
  
Benedict rubbed the back of his neck. “Erm…well, my parents are here today; so I think we’ll be meeting them.  They brought along an old family friend, who I haven’t seen in awhile. I appreciate the invite.  We’ll make sure to do it soon.”

 _Oh, Benedict. You’re going straight to hell for lying, but I need to sort this out._    
  
“Has _Cabin Pressure_ been renewed?” asked Stephanie excitedly.  “John hasn’t said anything to me.  Roger, do you know anything about this?”  
  
Roger shook his head.  “No, but this is a pleasant surprise. I knew the ratings and reviews for season one were very good, but I hadn’t realized we had been picked up for a third season. How did you come to hear this, Ben?”  
  
 _Oh, shit!  Why did I tell them that? I was eavesdropping on John’s conversation with David.  They don’t even know I overheard them._  
  
Benedict smiled shyly as he stepped closer to them and lowered his voice.  
  
“It’s not for public knowledge yet. I happened to overhear John and David talking in the loo before the recording.  They didn’t know I was in there.”  
  
“Ah.  Excellent eaves-dropping technique, young Benedict!  You’re a credit to spies everywhere,” Roger laughed and patted Benedict on the back.  “We appreciate the heads up.”  
  
 _I can’t argue with you, Roger.  It was both an excellent and unique eaves-dropping technique,_ thought Benedict.  
  
Stephanie patted Benedict on the cheek. “You’re just adorable, and we promise not to say a word about it to anyone.  Give Wanda and Tim my best. I’d love to stay and have a catch up with them; but I’ve got to leave right after the recording.”  
  
As soon as his co-stars had gone, Benedict checked his mobile. He had several voice messages.    
  
The first two were from Donna:  
  
 **“Hey there!  You were right.  The best view was from the first row.  I can see that you truly have a lot to offer a girl. You need to buy those jeans in every color – they fit you perfectly in all the right places.  Please let me know where we’re meeting after the recording. Bye.”**  
  
Benedict found himself feeling warm and very flattered after listening to her message. He looked at his reflection in the mirror on the wall and saw that his neck and face were flushed.  
  
 _I suddenly don’t care if we have dinner.  I’d love to meet you back at your flat afterwards and have my way with you instead._  
  
 **“Hi.  I’m back.  I don’t know how much you can see from the stage, but James is also here.  Apparently, you gave him a ticket; and he told me you have dinner plans.  It’s not a big deal – I would hate to come between you, so I won’t be mad if you want to go with him. Call me and let me know what you think. Thanks!”**  
  
 _What do I think? I saw all I needed to see, my darling Donna. Yes, I gave him a ticket and now curse the day that I did.  We have made it a habit to have a nice dinner after the recordings. Well, it is a big deal to me if you don’t come because I have a special dinner planned for just the two of us tonight._  
  
The next message was from James:  
  
 **“I’m starting to come to terms that you forgot our man-date. I just needed a good cry in the loo, and I’m feeling like myself again.  You need to hire a PA to take care of your busy social calendar.  Anyway, I met up with Donna in the bar, and we’re sitting together.  Do you have time to meet up for a drink at the bar in between segments?  Ring or text me. Cheers.”**  
  
 _Now I feel just a bit guilty. He’s right.  I do have to keep better track of my engagements.  Oh, yeah, I saw you two sitting together with your arm tucked around her shoulders. Why else do you think I flubbed those lines? I need to sort out my parents first before I ring them back. I’d really fancy a nice, strong drink about now._  
  
The next group of messages pertained to the hour break.  Benedict checked Donna’s first:  
  
 **“Hi Benedict!  I’m so happy you’re getting an hour’s break!  James just suggested we go over to the Bloomsbury Hotel for tea.  Can you meet us?  Please call me back.  James just went outside to have a cigarette. Bye.”**  
  
Next came James’ message:  
  
 **“Ben, I’m outside having a fag.  How about meeting Donna and I over at the Bloomsbury for tea?  Since we’ve got an hour to kill,  I thought  we could have a nice chat before you’re needed back at RADA. Ring me back if your busy schedule allows.”**  
  
The last message was from Timothy:  
  
 **“Ben, it’s Dad.  Since you have a nice, long break how about joining us for a drink and nibbles at one of the bars in the area?  Una  would love to see you.  By the way, I noticed that Donna Saint James is here with Jimmy Rhodes. Your mother says you should invite them to join us…and anyone else who might happen to be here to see you. You know how much your mother enjoys a good interrogation...I mean gathering. Cheers.”**  
  
 _No, Dad, your use of ‘interrogation’ was more accurate.  Mum would love nothing more than to have everyone in the same place. Jesus Christ! I can’t believe this. They think Donna’s here with Jimmy as his date and that I’ve probably got a date hidden in the audience.  I’ve got to keep them apart.  Okay.  Take a deep breath, Benedict.  You can pull this off.  Think.  How to keep them apart? Okay. I’ve got an idea._  
  
Benedict hit the speed dial for Donna on his mobile and waited as he paced back and forth in the green room.

 

  
  
Donna Saint James and James Rhodes had made their way out of the studio and were standing in the bar area along with roughly half the audience, who were trying to make up their minds where to spend the break.  
  
“I wish Benedict would call,” said Donna.  “Do you think he has reception back there?  I left him a couple of messages.”  
  
James shrugged and craned his neck to look around the room.     
  
“Yeah.  He definitely has reception back stage.  I’m sure he’ll be getting back to one of us soon," he said distractedly. "I don’t see Ben’s parents anywhere. I really wanted to introduce you to his mum.”  
  
“They were among the first out of the studio.  They must be long gone,” mused Donna. 

 _Especially, since I’m fairly sure they were the ones involved in that ruckus during the recording.  I also don’t need to run into them. I’m sure Timothy has had enough of me to last a lifetime._  
  
“I’ll make it a point after the recording then. You'll love his mum.”  
  
 _Fuck!  No, James!  I don’t want to meet them yet.  I also don’t want to run into Wanda while she’s in the company of her lover.  I couldn’t bear that._  
  
“I’m going to use the restroom.  I’ll be right back, James,” said Donna.  
  
James nodded.  “I’ll be outside having another fag.”  
  
Donna watched him light up as soon as he got outside and sighed.  
  
 _The cigarettes alone would be a deal breaker. I need to ask Benedict why he had a pack in his bedroom.  How could he hide a smoking habit from me?  I’d definitely detect it on him like I can on James.  His clothes and hair would smell like smoke. Even breath mints and gum can’t always mask the odor. There’s no hint of it in his apartment and car.  Just that pack and lighter._  
  
Donna walked into the restroom as her cellphone began to ring.  It was Benedict.  She carefully checked all the stalls and was relieved to find that she was alone.    
  
“Hi!”  
  
 _“Hi!  Sorry it’s taken me an age to ring you back,”_ began Benedict hesitantly.  " _I’ve had a lot of messages to go through.”_  
  
 _Jesus Christ!  He went through them all?  Does he not realize his phone has a forward-to-next-message feature? No wonder it took him so long to call me back._  
  
“Your parents are here!”  
  
 _“I’m well aware. My dad notified me that they were sitting in the back of the studio. It seems my mum also brought one of her friends along.”_  
  
“Why didn’t you tell me they were coming?  I would have gone to Hampstead with Carly and Steven. I thought the goal was to keep us apart until you were satisfied with my decision and ready to tell them.”  
  
“And for _you_ to be absolutely sure about what _you_ want.”  
  
 _This man is going to make me crazy._  
  
“I told you last night, Benedict. I _am_ absolutely sure about what _I_ want. I want you. End of story. You’re the one who can’t seem to accept it.”  
  
 _“Please continue to humour me. I don’t want you together with them yet. Trust me when I tell you that it would be a disaster.  They seem to be under the impression that you and Jimmy are here together on a date.”_  
  
“They probably assumed that because we’re sitting together.”  
  
 _“Or maybe it’s because he’s acting like a proper boyfriend with his arm around you and whispering in your ear,”_ said Benedict in a petulant tone.  
  
 _Oh, Mr. Cumberbatches’ jealous side has surfaced._  
  
“Benedict.  Stop jumping to conclusions! Please.  Jimmy has been nothing but a gentleman. Our seats are right under the a/c vent, and it’s freezing.”  
  
 _“I thought you were always hot,”_ he said sarcastically.  
  
“You’re right.  I usually am, but this time I wasn’t prepared for it to be this cold in that damn studio. If you don’t believe me, just go out there and stand under the vent. Jimmy saw me shivering, and offered to keep me warm.  That’s all there was to it.”  
  
 _“I’ll bring my cardigan out to you.”_  
  
“I’m fine, Ben.  Really. Now, what are we going to do about your parents?”  
  
 _Not to mention your womanizing father’s lover is with them._  
  
 _“I’ll go meet up with them and make sure they don’t go to the Bloomsbury.  You go with Jimmy.  Then I’ll explain to them that I have dinner plans for after the recording and have to leave right away as we’ll be finishing up late.”_  
  
“Okay. That makes some sort of sense, Ben.”  
  
 _“However,  we still have one more hurdle. What are we going to do about Jimmy and dinner?  I really don’t want him along, but I can't tell him to go piss off.  I suppose the right thing to do is ask him to join us. What do you think?”_  
  
“Let me take care of Jimmy.  You take care of your parents.  I’ll see you later.”  
  
Donna sent a text to James that she’d be right out and used the bathroom.  When she pushed open the door, there stood Benedict leaning against the wall with a big smile on his face.  
  
“Christ, you take forever.”  
  
“Had I known you were coming out, I would have hurried.”  
  
He handed her a heavy, gray cotton cardigan.  “You were right.  I went and stood under that vent, and it is fucking freezing. Here. I’d much rather this keep you warm than Rhodes.”  
  
“I can’t take this.  Aren’t you going to be cold? You have to be comfortable in order to do a good job.”  
  
“Actually, it’s quite hot under those lights, which is why they keep it so cold.  I was actually thinking of rolling up my shirt sleeves.  Please take my cardigan, Donna. I insist.  I can’t bear the thought of your teeth chattering whilst I’m trying to make you laugh.”  
  
 _Nor can I bear the thought of that fuckwit putting his arm around you again._  
  
Benedict leaned down so they could exchange a quick kiss on the lips.    
  
Donna wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly.  She heard him sigh softly, as he returned the hug and accepted another kiss from her.  
  
“We really need to talk about this tension between us, Benedict,” Donna said quietly as she pulled away from him.  “We flirt unabashedly with each other on the phone and via text…yet when we’re face-to-face…we become shy and awkward…like we’re on our first date.”  
  
Benedict chuckled.  “This is where we have a slight difference of opinion. I don’t recall either of us being particularly shy or awkward on our first date…we were actually pretty flirtatious that night.  I actually think we’re getting more comfortable with face-to-face flirting. You’re right, of course, we need to sort this out.  I’ll see you later.”  
  
With that he jogged down the hallway and blew her a kiss as he disappeared  through a door.  
  


  
  
  
Wanda, Timothy and Una stood in the bar area waiting for Benedict to ring one of them back.   Wanda was tapping her foot impatiently and consulting her watch every few minutes.    
  
“Hells bells!  What is taking him so long to ring Tim back?”  
  
“Perhaps they’re having a little meeting with the producer,” offered Una. “It does happen as you well know.”  
  
“Patience was never one of my wife’s better qualities,” quipped Timothy to Una.  “Unfortunately, our son takes after her in that department.”  
  
“I should have realized it was always going to be like this when he was born two weeks late.  He took his time then, and he takes his time now.  I just can’t understand it. Timothy and I are always so prompt,” said Wanda in an exasperated tone.    
  
Timothy was studying his mobile.  “I just looked up the bar menu for the place across the street.  We can get wine by the glass and a cheese board to share.”  
  
“Sounds fine to me,” said Una. “All we need is a little something to tide us over until dinner.”  
  
“From what I could see, Donna was definitely with Jimmy Rhodes,” said Wanda, changing the subject.  
   
“There’s no doubt in my mind,” agreed Una.  “You’re little bird was having a proper snuggle with him.  Right in the middle of the studio, bless them.”  
  
“It certainly would appear that way,” commented Timothy.  “I saw them whispering and laughing with their heads pressed together.”  
  
“So, we now know for a fact that Donna and James are dating. We’ve seen it with our own eyes,” remarked Wanda.  “So I guess that mystery’s sorted.”  
  
“The question still remains – who is the Barbecoa bird?” wondered Una aloud.  “I didn’t see anyone who looked like the woman he was with yesterday.”  
  
Wanda’s mobile began to ring.  “It’s him. Finally.”  
  
“Don’t be too…forceful, Wanda.  Benedict may already have plans for his break,” warned Timothy. “He can always see us.”  
  
Wanda impatiently waved him off as she answered her mobile.  
  
 _Why do I even bother wasting perfectly good breath?_ thought Timothy. _She’s going to handle it her way regardless._  
  
“Hello Ben.”  
  
 _“Hi Mum.  I just got your message, and yeah, I’d love to spend my break time with you guys.”_  
  
“We were planning on going to the bar across the street.  Dad looked up their menu online, and they serve wines by the glass and nibbles.”  
  
Wanda noticed that Benedict hesitated before answering.  
  
 _Hmmm...he doesn’t seem too chuffed with that idea._  
  
 _“Mum.  I have a better idea.  I haven eaten much all day, so I could use something more substantial than some nuts and crisps.  Why don’t we go over to the Montague on the Gardens Hotel?  It’s not far from here at all.  We can take a cab to save time. They serve a lovely afternoon tea, which I know you’ll enjoy.  The atmosphere is very serene – very relaxing.  We won’t find half the audience in there either like we would at the bar.  That’s where everyone goes because its close.”_  
  
“Will James and his date be joining us?”  
  
 _She’s not his date, Mum.  She’s mine; but I’m going to keep that to myself for a bit longer._  
  
“Erm…no.  They already had other plans, but send their regards.”  
  
“Oh, that’s too bad then.  What about you?”  
  
 _“What about me?”_  
  
“Are you here alone today?”  
  
 _“What exactly do you mean, Mum? Of course I'm alone."_  
  
“Well, you might have had a friend or...someone else... in the audience who came to see you, yes?”  
  
Una and Timothy exchanged worried glances and rolled their eyes.  
  
 _“Oh, I suppose there might be a few Martin Crief fans out there – shall I invite them to come along then?”_ Benedict asked sarcastically.  
  
“Don’t be cheeky, Benedict,” snapped Wanda.  
  
 _“You’re being overly…curious, Mum.  If I had a date here, wouldn’t I introduce you to her?”_  
  
 _Oh, Benedict, you're definitely traveling the express route to hell. Good thing I like warm places._  
  
“Not necessarily if you wanted to keep it a secret from us.”  
  
“Wanda!  That’s enough!” reprimanded Timothy harshly. “Do you want him to change his mind?”  
  
 _“Mum, really!  Must we always have these conversations?  I just want to have a nice tea with you, Dad and Una.  Please drop the subject.”_  
  
“Alright.  Not another word. My lips are sealed on that topic.”  
  
 _We’ll see about that, Mr. Wise Arse_ , thought Wanda.  
  
 _No such luck_ , thought Timothy. _She’ll start in with him as soon as our bums hit the chairs._  
  
“Don’t worry, Tim.  I’ll make sure to steer the conversation away from  Benedict’s secret girlfriend,” whispered Una as Benedict entered the room.  
  
Benedict strode over to them and hugged Wanda after kissing both her cheeks.  “Hi Mum.  Sorry for making you wait.”  
  
Then he hugged Timothy and whispered in his ear.  “Please make sure she behaves, Dad.”  
  
“Una has everything under control,” whispered back Timothy.  
  
“Benedict!  How nice to see you!” chirped Una as he gave her a big hug.  “My handsome leading man!  I’m so looking forward to working with you, Love.”  
  
“We really enjoyed the first episode,” said Timothy. “Mr. Finnemore is quite talented.”  
  
Benedict looked around and lowered his voice. “Did any of you happen to see who in the audience was being so disruptive during the taping?  Can you imagine people being cheeky enough to conduct an argument in a public setting like that?”  
  
 _Not only can I imagine it, but I was directly involved,_ thought Timothy miserably.  
  
“Vividly,” quipped Timothy.

“They had no idea you could hear them that far from the stage,” explained Una, referring to Wanda and Timothy with her hand.  “I also had no idea their voices had carried that far.”  
  
Benedict frowned and looked at his parents.  “No. Please don’t tell me it was you two.”  
  
Wanda tossed her head.  “Alright then.  I won’t.”  
  
“Really, Dad? You're both actors and should know better. Christ, I don't know what to say, aside from I'm appalled.”  
  
“It was that snotty little dolly bird who was sat in front of your mother, Ben,” chimed Una.  “No manners whatsoever.  You should have heard the way she spoke to your mother.”  
  
 _That was after Wanda escalated things_ , thought Timothy.  _My wife deserved that._  
  
“For fucks sake!  You two hardly ever argue – why the sudden urge to do it here of all places?  The whole cast and crew heard you,” scolded Benedict. “I’m lucky no one was able to pick out your voices or see you back in the darkness, not to mention you’re damn lucky David didn’t boot you out.”

"We're sorry, Ben," said Timothy. "We shan't' let our tempers get the best of us again, will we, Wanda?"

Wanda simply nodded her agreement.  
  
“Oh, it happens, Ben,” said Una soothingly. “Anyway, it’s over and done with.  I hear you’ve been going out on a lot of auditions.”  
  
“Yeah, I’ve been very fortunate.  I’m looking forward to working with you, Una,” said Benedict with a smile, as he took her arm and led her out of the bar area.  “I can’t wait to begin work on Sherlock.”

  
  
***********************************************************

  
  
Wanda’s eyes widened as she observed her son chatting with Una. She poked Timothy and whispered urgently to him.  
  
“Did you notice your son’s mouth?”  
  
Timothy carefully studied Benedict’s face.  
  
“His lips look the same as they always have. A perfect cupid's bow. I fear I’m going to have to bow to your superior powers of observation, Mrs. Holmes.  Tell me what I’m missing.”  
  
“He’s got traces of pink lipstick on his lips.  Our son was snogging someone before he came out here.  That’s what took him so long.”  
  
“Jesus Christ, Wanda.”  
  
“I’m telling you, Timothy.  Your son’s bird is here, and he doesn’t want us to meet her yet.”  
  
“Ben wouldn’t do that....”  
  
“He certainly would. He likes to do things his own way, especially when he's serious about someone.  Remember, he was dating Olivia for a whole term before he told us about her."

"Perhaps it was the thought of the impending interrogation that held him back," mused Timothy.

"And he waited three months to bring that skinny one around...the one who designed furniture and didn't eat."

"Anna. And she did eat.  She just had a light appetite is all."

"Yes.  Anna. She was the rebound bird right after Olivia left him."

"Olivia didn't leave him technically - they came to a mutual decision that things weren't working."

"You forget.  I had tea with Olivia several months afterwards.  She's the one who wanted out of the relationship."

"I don't think I care anymore, Pet.  It's water under the bridge. I'd rather we concentrate on the Barbecoa girl."

"Not to worry, Tim.  I’ll get to the bottom of this over tea.”  
  
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  
  
*************************************************************

  
Benedict and Una had heard the conversation behind them.    
  
“She’s incorrigible!” sighed Benedict shaking his head. “How she tries my patience some days.”  
  
“She’s a mother, Love.  That’s what we do,” laughed Una, patting his forearm.  “My sons will tell you I’m the same way, I’m sure.”  
  
 _And either you’ve taken to wearing lipstick or your mother is right_ , thought Una with amusement.  
  
“Well, all bickering aside - I still don’t see any lipstick,” insisted Timothy from behind them.  “Just call me unobservant.”  
  
“Well, you need to look more closely,” snapped Wanda.  “His lips are stained pink. Not his usual natural pink tone – cosmetically enhanced pink.”  
  
“For God’s sake!”  Benedict looked down at Una and chuckled.  “Mum’s got me in a Sherlock frame of mind, Una.  Watch this.”  
  
Benedict stopped and turned to face his parents.  He spread his arms out.  
  
“Go ahead, Dad.  Take a good look at my lips.”  
  
Wanda’s face turned three shades of red as she noticed Benedict’s raised voice had gotten the attention of a few people hanging out in the lobby.  
  
“Stop being so cheeky, Benedict!  And in the lobby of all bloody places!”  
  
Timothy shook his head.  “I’m not going to stand here and study your lips.”  
  
Benedict held up a large, slender hand.  
  
“Just do it to satisfy her. Think of it as a study in pink.”

  
  
************************************************************

  
Donna Saint James and James Rhodes sat across from each other in a pair of comfortable black leather arm chairs in the Lutyens Lobby Lounge of the Bloomsbury Hotel.  After perusing the menu for a couple of minutes, they had decided to share an afternoon tea tray so as not to spoil their appetites for dinner.    
  
Donna selected a finger sandwich that contained pastrami, rocket and Dijon mayonnaise on tomato bread and took a bite.  She nodded thoughtfully as she chewed and swallowed.  
  
“Does your palate approve, Miss Saint James?”  
  
“Yes. This is very tasty. I must admit, I wasn’t expecting pastrami to be served in a tea sandwich.”  
  
“That’s why I like it here.  The tea sarnies are different.”  
  
“What’s in yours?”  
  
“Cajun roast chicken. I particularly like the onion bread it’s on.  Must be a nod to America with the Cajun spiced chicken,” James laughed.  
  
“I’d say you’re right!” agreed Donna as she sipped her Earl Grey tea.  
  
James helped himself to a smoked salmon with creme fraiche on malt bread.  
  
“This one is also quite tasty, Donna,” he said taking a bite.  “Have I told you how much I enjoy eating out with you? I always feel like I’m along for a review.”  
  
“Tell you what.  Tomorrow morning I have a breakfast review to do at the Duck and Waffle in the Heron Building. How about joining me?”  
  
James frowned.  “I thought you were having breakfast with Ben tomorrow.  I’m not sure he’d be so happy with my joining you two – especially being he has to go on a location shoot and won’t be seeing you for awhile.”  
  
Donna opened a warm raisin scone and spread some clotted cream on it.  
  
“He can’t make it.  He got a callback for a movie called _Wreckers_. It’s for the male lead, and the only time he can go is tomorrow morning,” replied Donna as she put a dollop of raspberry preserves on top of the cream.  “Ah, the perfect bite!”  
  
James nodded and smiled.  “Yes.  It’s an indie film.  I remember when he auditioned for it.  He was very excited about the script.  I hope they make him an offer.”  
  
“His agent seems to think they will, so that’s why he’s going.”  
  
“In that case, I’d be delighted to help you with your review.”  
  
“Steven and Carly are also coming.”  
  
James finished his tea.  “Jolly good.  You know I enjoy their company,” he smiled.  
  
“And they enjoy yours.”  
  
Donna finished her scone and blotted her lips with the white linen napkin.  She drank some more tea and looked across the table at James, who had picked up the teapot, after she caught him staring at her.  
  
“Shall I top you up?”  
  
“Please.”  
  
They sat quietly as they added cream and sugar to their teacups. Again, when Donna looked up, she caught James staring at her.  
  
“I sense you want to talk about something,” began James, taking a plain scone and cutting it open.    
  
Donna smiled.  “I was thinking the same thing about you.”  
  
James slathered his scone with the strawberry-rhubarb preserves and topped it off with the clotted cream.  
  
“I just noticed that we fix our scones differently,” he observed drily. “Yes, I do want to talk – about us.  And you?”  
  
Donna drank some tea.  She crossed her legs and looked at him over the rim of her teacup.  
  
 _It’s time, Donna.  Tell him.  Break if off now. Just do it gently._  
  
“Same topic, I’m afraid.”  
  
James put down his half-eaten scone and sipped some tea.  Then he sat back in his chair.  “Ladies first, and I warn you that I cry easily.  I’m a very sensitive new-age man,” he joked.     
  
“Before I get to the main topic, I need to ask you something; and I want you to be completely honest with me, okay?”  
  
James nodded.  “Of course. I’d like to think I’ve always been forth-coming with you.  For example, I never tried to hide my smoking from you…unlike some people.”  
  
It's like he knows what I'm going to ask him. He’s dropped this comment before.  He wants me to ask him who the ‘some people’ are.  So, I'll ask him. James will definitely know if Benedict smokes, and he will tell me the truth.  
  
“This isn’t what I originally wanted to talk about; but something has been bothering me, and it just popped into my mind.  Does Benedict smoke?”  
  
James took one of the cream cheese, chive and cucumber sandwiches on caraway bread.  Donna noticed that he pretended to have a hard time making up which end to bite.  
  
“Now, that’s an interesting question,” James finally said taking a bite and chewing thoughtfully.  “Don’t you know?  You’ve been dating him for the past few months.”  
  
 _Okay.  That response really makes me feel like a jerk. I guess I should have just asked Benedict myself. I’ve been avoiding it because deep down inside I think I already know what the answer is._  
  
“No.  I don’t know for sure.  He doesn’t show any of the signs like you do.”  
  
“That’s because I don’t try to hide it from you. I smoke because I enjoy it.  Every now and then I try to stop, but I always go back.  It’s an addiction, Donna.  It’s very hard to stop. ”  
  
Donna felt her stomach drop.  “So, you’re saying that he does and hides it from me?”  
  
James finished the sandwich.  “Why don’t you ask him?”  
  
 _Because I’m afraid of the answer.  I’m so allergic I couldn’t live or be with anyone who smokes._  
  
“Please stop beating around the bush and tell me.  You’re one of his closest friends, so you must know.”  
  
James finished his sandwich and washed it down with tea before answering.  
  
“Ben isn’t smoking at this time.  He hasn’t smoked regularly for over a year now.  He’s been making an honest effort to quit for his own good health, which I admire because he’s done so damn well so far.  You’re not detecting the scent on him because he’s not smoking.”  
  
 _Yeah, but what about the cigarettes and lighter in his bedroom?  I guess people like to have lighters around to light candles....but the cigarettes._  
  
“Last night I happened to see a pack of cigarettes on Ben’s dresser, and it started me thinking.”  
  
 _OH HO!  She was in his bedroom.  Jolly good for you, Cumberbatch.  I guess I should tell her what he told me.  He’s petrified that she’ll dump him if she finds out._  
  
“You know the play he has coming up – _The Turning Point_?”  
  
Donna nodded.  
  
“Well, the role calls for him to smoke during the play, and he’s terrified that you’ll break off the relationship when you find out.  I was with him when he bought the pack.  He’s keeping it for rehearsals.  Believe me, Donna, he’s not happy that they want his character to smoke, but that’s part of the deal.”

"What about herbal cigarettes?  Can't he smoke those on stage?"

James chortled.  "I've tried them.  They 're fucking hideous tasting. I believe Ben once said they're really meant for non-smokers to use."  
  
“I guess he’s afraid that once he starts again, he’ll have trouble stopping.”  
  
“Exactly,” said James.  “He’ll also be the first to tell you that he, like me, enjoys it.  However, he did tell me that your health meant more to him than anything; and he would never do anything to jeopardize it.  I don’t think he’ll start up again.  Love is a strong motivator.”  
  
“I’m relieved to hear that.  It would be very hard if not impossible for me to live with a smoker.”  
  
James smiled knowingly at her.  “I realize that.  That’s partly why we’re having this talk, aren’t we?”  
  
 _Hey, wait a minute, did he just say ‘love’ was a strong motivator?_  
  
“Jimmy, when you said love was a strong motivator, what did you mean?”  
  
James leaned forward to pour some more tea in their cups.  “It’s fairly obvious to me that Ben’s in love with you, Donna. And you with him.”  
  
“You’re rather perceptive, Mr. Rhodes.”  
  
“You were going to tell me that you didn’t want us to date anymore because of your feelings for Benedict.”  
  
“Make that _very_ perceptive.”  
  
“The caramel tarts look divine.  Shall I?” James offered to serve one to Donna.  
  
“Thank you. You know what’s strange?”  
  
“What?”    
  
“For such a sensitive new-age guy, I don’t see you shedding any tears.  Actually, I detect no sadness whatsoever in you.  You don’t seem very bothered by this at all, Jimmy.”  
  
He placed a tartlet on her plate.  “I don’t?”  He wiped away an imaginary tear and started to smirk a bit as their eyes met over the table.  
  
“No.  Not in the least,” said Donna with a raised eyebrow.  “Could it be its because you’ve realized that you harbor special feelings for a pretty blonde musician named Hattie?”  
  
James smiled widely at her as he served himself a caramel tart.  
  
“You’re _very_ perceptive yourself, Donna Saint James.  There was no way in hell I was letting Hattie get away from me that night at the Grand Imperial.  I’ve had these feelings bottled up inside that I kept denying. As you know, I already have one failed marriage under my belt; and I wasn’t eager to make any commitments.  I wanted to enjoy myself and date as many different girls as I could.”  
  
“You are the opposite of Benedict in that regard.”  
  
“Heavens yes.  He’s been broody and wanting to get married ever since he reached puberty at the tender age of eighteen,”  he smirked.  
  
Donna spit out the bite of tart she had taken. “What the hell?  Eighteen?  He was eighteen when he matured?”  
  
James began to giggle.  “Matured?  Now, that’s debatable, Love.  Sometimes I think we’re still waiting for the poor sod to finish maturing.”  
  
“I could say the same about you at times,”  teased Donna over her teacup.  
  
“Yes, you could; and I believe you have said something along those lines,” James snickered.  
  
“Seriously.  He was eighteen?”  
  
“Hmmm...maybe seventeen.  He was a very late bloomer.  They were afraid there was something wrong with him.  The doctor said be patient, your time will come; and of course,  it did as it comes to us all.”  
  
Donna covered her mouth. “I shouldn’t laugh.  I was eleven when I hit puberty.  I can’t even imagine him.”  
  
“His mum has loads of photos of us at Harrow.  I’m sure she’ll show them to you one day.”  
  
“So, Hattie’s the one?” said Donna taking a bite of the tart.  “Mmmm...this is to die for...such rich, buttery caramel.”  
  
James smiled, showing his deep dimples.  “I think so.  I do know that I don’t care to see anyone else.  I’m ready to be with one person again.  Who knows where it will lead, but I’m at a point in my life where I want to be exclusive with her.”  
  
“I’m very happy for you and Hattie.  I like her spunkiness, though I fear she may hate my guts after that night.”  
  
“Not after I explained everything to her.  She wants us to get together with you and Ben one night and have a proper dinner.”  
  
“Well, I guess this means we are officially no longer dating,” said Donna.  
  
“How about just close friends?” asked James.  “We get along so well, it would be a shame to avoid each other altogether.”  
  
“Close friends," repeated Donna pensively.  "I like that and was going to suggest the same.  You’re a good man, James Rhodes.  Hattie is very lucky to hold your heart.”  
  
“And you’re a good woman, Donna Saint James.  Ben is one lucky bastard.  I know you’ll take splendid care of him.”  
  
Donna and James finished the pastries and tea in companionable silence.  
  
“That was a good idea to share, this way I’ll be hungry later on,” Donna said.  
  
James beckoned to the server so he could settle the bill; but Donna flashed her credit card as soon as the girl brought the card reader to the table.    
  
“This is on me,” said Donna with mock sternness.  “No argument, either.”  
  
James spread his hands.  “Fine.  Thank you.”  
  
As they got up, James suddenly noticed the gray cardigan that Donna had draped over her chair.    
  
“Where did that come from?  Isn’t that the cardigan Ben was wearing on stage?”  
  
“He brought it out to me because he was annoyed that you had your arm around my shoulders.”  
  
James wore a big smile as he held the door open for Donna.  They began to walk the short distance back to the RADA Studio.  
  
“Why are you smiling like that? You look like the Cheshire Cat.”  
  
“Because it had the desired affect.”  
  
“You did that on purpose?”  
  
“Not at first.  I did it because you were genuinely cold, but I did get a little closer than I normally would have because I knew Ben would notice.”  
  
Donna stopped and confronted James, temper flaring.  “You caused him to mess up his lines,” she spat.  “That was a _very_ unprofessional and mean thing to do!”  
  
“Believe me, that was the last thing I wanted to happen, Donna. I hadn’t intended to deliberately interfere with Ben’s work. We’re both professionals and would never – _ever_ – purposely do anything to make a fool out of the other for the sake of…well, you know the story.”  
  
“Yes, I know the story," she said angrily. "But didn't stop you from interfering today!  You know damn well how observant Benedict is. Just because you were pissed off at him doesn’t give you carte blanche to purposely distract him while he's working.”  
  
“Shit.  I surely made a right mess out of this, haven’t I?” said James, shoving his hands in his pockets and looking down at his shoes.  He was feeling a sudden pang of guilt and found himself at a loss for words.  "You're absolutely right. I behaved like a first class prick.  However..."  
  
“This is your payback for yesterday, isn’t it?” asked Donna in an accusing tone.  
  
James took a deep breath and nodded. He found the guilty feeling was beginning to evaporate, as he recalled Benedict’s behavior on the phone.  
  
“I was so pissed off at him for having the bollocks to cancel our date without even asking you.  Just who in the hell did he think he was?  Your personal conduit?  And please don't defend him.  You weren't there when we were on the phone, Donna. I heard your voice in the background, and he refused to let me speak with you to try and reschedule. He deliberately pretended that we had a bad connection for fucks sake!”  
  
Donna pursed her lips.  “I'm not going to defend him, Jimmy. It took balls to do something like that. He was absolutely in the wrong, and I told him so. I've found that Benedict can be very assertive when he wants to be.”  
  
“Yeah, and that’s part of why I did it.  Ever since the night of my concert we’ve both been caught up in this one up-man-ship for your affections. Every time I swear I’m going to stop, but then the wanker does something to tick me off.  Friday morning was the last straw.  I had the ticket but hadn’t really planned on using it.  Then the more I thought about it, I decided that he needed to be taught a lesson.”  
  
“I think you’ve sufficiently rattled him, Jimmy; so you can stop now.  Benedict needs to be able to concentrate on his work,” pointed out Donna sternly. "You're both wrong and acting like children.  This game needs to end."  
  
James nodded as he opened the door to the RADA building for Donna.  
  
“I’ll let it go for now, because I don't want to cause any more problems with his work; but Ben and I have some serious sorting out to do.”  
  
 _That’s what I’m afraid of_ , thought Donna.  _He’s every bit as stubborn as Benedict. I hope they don’t wind up arguing._  
  
 “I’m going to have one last fag, so I’ll meet you inside.”

  
  
******************************************

 

Wanda, Timothy and Benedict stood in the bar area as the audience began to return from the break.  Una had excused herself and gone back into the studio to reclaim their seats.  
  
“I don’t know why Una was in such a hurry, no one is going to claim those awful seats,” scoffed Wanda.  “Who knows if there will even be a season three given these fickle broadcasters.”  
  
“Mum, there will be a season three.  You’ll have six more opportunities to see me if you really want to,” Benedict assured her in a low voice.  
  
 _For fucks sake!  Why did I tell her that.  She’ll tell everyone she meets now._  
  
Timothy shook his head at Benedict and rolled his eyes.  _From the look of horror on my son’s face, his mouth filter must be malfunctioning again._  
  
“Oh, Ben, that’s excellent news!” exclaimed Wanda, clapping her hands together. “It’s such a funny show. The writing is excellent.”  
  
“I take it this is not for repetition, Ben?” Timothy asked gently.  
  
“That’s right. It’s a secret.  _I’m_ not even supposed to know, but I happened to overhear John and David talking about it earlier.  So, please don’t say anything until it’s official,” Benedict whispered as he looked about to make sure no one could hear him.  
  
“You have my word,” said Timothy solemnly.  
  
“I swear on my barn owl collection.  I won’t tell a soul,” promised Wanda.  
  
 _I notice she’s always careful not to swear on anything too important,_ mused Timothy, _because she knows she can’t be trusted._  
  
“Good.  Thanks.  Now, I have to go get my script and a water bottle.  I hope you’re not disappointed that I can’t stay after the show; but as I explained, I’ve got important dinner plans and can’t afford to be late,” said Benedict.    
  
“We totally understand, Dear,” said Wanda standing on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek.  “Have a good time with your.....friend, is it?”  
  
“Wanda!  That’s enough for one afternoon,” snarled Timothy.  
  
Benedict smiled at his father and hugged him.  “It’s okay,” he whispered.  “I’m making my move tonight. Get ready because I’m about to make Mum one very over-the-moon mother.”  
  
“Date. I’ve got a date, Mum. A very important date with a very special lady,” said Benedict as he winked at her and hurried out of the room.  
  
“For fucks sake!  Did you hear that?” Wanda asked Timothy in disbelief.  “I never expected him to answer me like that.”  
  
“I heard him, Wanda.  Half of the bar also heard him.  I don’t know why you’re so surprised. We know he’s serious about the Barbecoa bird.  Isn’t it obvious that he’s going to meet up with her after the recording?”  
  
Wanda thought for a moment and frowned.  “Hmmm...I wonder why she isn’t here then?”  
  
“The most obvious answer is he didn’t have an extra ticket for her.”  
  
“Or maybe she’s a doctor and couldn’t make it or a criminal barrister who had to meet with her client on a Sunday before a trial. I just hope she isn’t an actress.”  
  
“The possibilities are endless, Love,” said Timothy kissing her on top of her head.  “And there’s nothing wrong with her being an actress if she is. You’re an actress, and we get along....most of the time. Let’s go take our horrible seats, shall we?”  
  
“Oh, you!” laughed Wanda as she kissed Timothy on the lips.  “Let me pop into the loo for a minute.  Hold my handbag, will you?”  
  
Timothy nodded and set the handbag on the bar behind him while he waited. Luckily, Wanda wasn’t long.  As they left the bar area, neither of them noticed Donna Saint James, who had been watching them from the doorway that led to the vestibule.  
  
 _How disgusting!  I can’t believe how brazen Wanda is – kissing him in public like that when his wife isn’t around.  I wonder where the poor thing is?  I hope James hurries,_ thought Donna, as she entered the bar area and put Benedict’s cardigan over her shoulders.  
  


 

  
  
Timothy and Wanda had just settled into their seats to find that the girl in front of Wanda had changed seats with her father, who was now blocking her view.   
  
“Damn.  I really have no luck,” whispered Wanda. "I can't see a thing now!"

The girl turned around and groaned.  "Oh, damn.  They're back. I was hoping they were asked to leave," she said loudly to her father. "If I hear either of you so much as sneeze during the recording, I'm getting an usher," she warned Wanda and Timothy.  

"I won't have my experience ruined!" added the woman in front of Timothy. "If you want to have a domestic, have it at home!"

"That was very rude of you," chimed in the girl's father.  "It shows no respect for the actors.  My daughter is a student at LAMDA and can sympathize with the cast, which obviously neither of you can."

Wanda felt her cheeks colour as other people around them turned to stare and mumble their agreement.

"Aren't we the popular ones..." began Wanda.  
  
“Just be quiet and change seats with me,” said Timothy under his breath as he got up so Wanda could have his seat.    
  
“Wanda, do you have a tissue?” asked Una.  “I seemed to have forgotten to take some.”  
  
“Of course,” said Wanda.    
  
 _Wait.  Where’s my handbag?  I must have left it in the bar.  Shit!_  
  
Wanda jumped up in a panic.  
  
“What’s wrong, Wanda?” whispered Una.  
  
“I left my damn handbag in the bar.  Can you let me through, Tim?  I’ll be right back.”  
  
“I’ll get it,” said Timothy as he got up and headed back to the bar. "I know where it is."

 

**************************************************************************************************************************************************  
  
  
 _Jesus!  Did he have to smoke again?_   Thought Donna impatiently as she checked the time on her watch. _The recording’s going to start soon._  
  
The usher walked into the bar area and announced.  “ _Cabin Pressure_ will be starting in ten minutes, so please take your seats at this time.”  
  
 _I’ll just go sit without him.  I don’t want to miss anything._  
  
As Donna began to leave the room, the bartender called out to her.  
  
“Miss!  Wait!  Is this your handbag?”  he asked, holding up a small black leather shoulder bag.  
  
“No.”  
  
“It’s mine!  I mean it’s my wife’s,” called out Timothy Carlton as he rushed into the room right past Donna and took the bag from the bartender.  “I was holding it for her when she went to use the loo and must have set it down.”  
  
 _And you were too distracted with kissing your lover to remember to bring it back to your wife.  I’d better get out of here before he sees me._  
  
Unfortunately, Timothy had already turned to head back into the studio and ran smack into Donna before she had the chance to retreat.  
  
“Whoa!  Take it easy!” exclaimed Donna as she tried to maintain her balance.  
  
Timothy quickly grabbed her by the elbow.  “It’s fine!  I’ve got you!”  
  
 _Shit...it’s Donna Saint James. Isn’t she wearing Benedict’s cardigan?  The one Wanda gave him last Christmas? I can’t ignore the girl now, especially being I almost knocked her over.  Best to be friendly and say hello._  
  
 _I’m going to have to acknowledge him now and make the best of it._  
  
“I’m so sorry, Donna.  I need to watch where I’m going,” said Timothy as pleasantly as possible.  “Are you alright?”  
  
“Yes.  Don’t worry. It can happen to anybody.”  
  
They both looked at each other without saying anything.    
  
 _I could just smack him for cheating on his wife!_  
  
“So we meet again.....,” smiled Timothy, offering his hand to Donna.  
  
“We do meet under such _unusual_ circumstances, don’t we?”  
  
Timothy looked puzzled as he clasped Donna’s hand.  
  
“How so?  I  was just getting my wife’s bag. It got left on the bar.”  
  
 _You left it there because you were too busy playing kissy-face with Wanda, while you dear wife and mother of your son was sitting in the studio unaware. I’ve had enough!_  
  
Donna tossed back her hair and scoffed.  “You wouldn’t have forgotten it, if you weren’t so preoccupied with…..”  
  
“Tim!” called out James Rhodes as he ran into the bar, reeking of cigarette smoke.  
  
“Hello Jimmy!  I thought I had seen you before,” said Timothy as the two shook hands.  
  
Donna began to cough upon inhaling a whiff of the smoke.  
  
“Shit!  I’m so sorry, Donna.  I haven’t had time to air out properly,” apologized James as he fanned the air around him.  “Is it any better now?”  
  
“A little,” said Donna as she removed a Kleenex from her purse and began to blot her tearing eyes.  She glared at Timothy.  
  
 _Why is she looking at me like that?  Did I  do something to offend her?_  
  
“Where’s your better half?  I was hoping to introduce her to Donna – unless Ben’s already…”  
  
James abruptly shut up as Donna’s heel came down on his foot.    
  
 _Jesus Horatio Christ!  What the fuck?  That fucking hurts like a son-of –a bitch! What did I say that prompted that?_  
  
Timothy watched in shock.  
  
 _Bloody hell! She just stepped on his foot to shut him up.  What in the heck is going on here?  She thinks she’s being subtle just like Wanda does.  How frightening is this?_  
  
“She’s already sat.  I left her handbag out here, so I volunteered to fetch it when it went missing.  Then I literally ran into Donna.”  
  
 _Who is wearing my son’s cardigan and also happens to be wearing pink lipstick. If I didn’t know better, I’d venture a guess that it’s the same colour as what Ben had on his lips. Wanda was right about the lipstick after all. Could this little tart be two-timing James to toy with my son?  There is no sign of lipstick on Jimmy's lips. Ben definitely had traces of lipstick on his lips – I saw it with my own eyes when he used the serviette and tried to hide the stains._  
  
Donna looked at Timothy and smiled coldly at him.  
  
“Well, we all best be getting to our seats.  Nice to see you again Tim. I look forward to meeting your wife.”  
  
“We’ll wait up for you after the taping,” suggested Timothy meekly.  
  
 _I’m trapped, and Wanda is going to hit the roof.  As soon as Donna sees us together, she’s going to realize that I was spying on her at the Orangery.  We’re going to have to take her aside and explain why I was doing that. Then she’ll tell Jimmy, who has a big mouth and will report back to Benedict.  How in the hell did this happen?_  
  
 _Damn! I can’t meet his wife yet as much as I want to.  Benedict and I agreed.  I’ll use dinner as an excuse._  
  
“Wait.  We can’t as much as we’d like to,” said Donna, tapping her forehead with the palm of her hand.  “I forgot we have a dinner reservation.  It’s going to be tight as is with the recording running late.”  
  
“You’re right,” said James.  “We’re going to have run like hell to make it on time.”  
  
"Another time then," said Timothy as they left the bar.

 _Too bad I didn't have time to tell him off,_ thought Donna.  _I suppose it was better I didn't.  That would have had horrible consequences for Benedict, and I don't want to see him hurt. I'm starting to waffle like he does._

Timothy Carlton sighed heavily with relief as they entered the studio.  He sat down heavily in his seat beside Wanda as David Tyler came out to introduce _Limerick_.  James and Donna continued down the aisle and slipped into their seats up front.  
  
“Remind me not to send you out on anymore rescue missions.  What took so long?” asked Wanda in a low voice as he dropped her handbag onto her lap.  
  
“It’s a long story. The short of it is I was ambushed by Donna and James in the bar.  Thank God, the recording was about to start; so our secret is still safe.  I thought I was going to have to own up to being part of the plan,” he whispered.  
  
“Thank God, is right,” agreed Wanda.  “That was a close call. We don’t need anymore of those.”    
  
“Agreed,” whispered Timothy.  “Speaking of need, is there any of that candy left?”  
  
  
*************************************************************

  
  
James pulled Donna down into her seat and looked at her incredulously.  
  
“May I ask why in bloody fucking hell you tried to spear my foot with your heel?” demanded James.  “I hope you didn’t draw blood.  My career as a foot model will be forever ruined.”  
  
“It’s a long story,” whispered Donna. “ Basically, Benedict didn’t want his parents to know about us until we make a firm commitment to each other.  It seems his mom can be a bit pushy when it comes to his settling down.”  
  
James rubbed his foot and snickered. “Oh you have no idea.  She’s a force to be reckoned with.”  
  
“Is there another way we can leave from after the recording to avoid them?”  
  
“I think I can arrange it.  I happen to be good friends with a cast member,” James winked at Donna.  He quickly dashed off a text to Benedict and shut off his mobile as the lights went down.

  
  
*************************************************************  
  
Benedict took his seat after doing a scene with Roger and gazed out at the audience.  To his delight Donna was wearing his cardigan, and James was sitting with his hands primly folded in his lap.  Benedict smiled at her and went back to following the script. Suddenly, he felt his mobile vibrate in his pocket. He took a peek as Stephanie and John had both flubbed their lines, and John had decided to do a hasty rewrite of that part of the scene.  
  
 **Tim wants to introduce Donna to Wanda.  Donna explained its not a good idea. Can we leave via the back exit?  J**  
  
Benedict quickly typed a response and turned off his mobile as he watched Stephanie and John read the new lines.  
  
 **Stay put when its over. I’ll send someone to collect you.  B.**

  
  
***********************************************************  
  
  
The show ended to lots of cheers and applause. Luckily there were only a couple of retakes. Wanda and Timothy had greatly enjoyed the episode.  They were both so proud that their son had gotten so many laughs.  
  
“He’s got great comedic timing,” observed Timothy, standing up and massaging his lower back to work out the stiffness.  
  
“He gets that from you,” smiled Wanda.  
  
“I beg to differ, you also earned your comedy chops.”  
  
“As did you!”  
  
“Oh, that was so funny!” said Una, slapping her thigh. “I haven’t laughed this much in quite awhile.”  
  
“It was absolutely brilliant!” agreed Wanda as she gathered her handbag and got to her feet.  “There’s no need to hang around as Ben said he’s leaving straight away for his hot date.”  
  
Timothy tapped Wanda on the arm.    
  
“What’s wrong?”  
  
“We’re being watched.”  
  
“By who?  Our fans?” Wanda giggled.  “I hope you brought along your head shots and a sharpie pen.  I seemed to have left mine at home.”  
  
“I’m not joking, Wanda,” insisted Timothy with a frown. “Look,” he pointed towards the stage.  
  
“Oooo…I see,” said Una.  “Your little bird is looking up here again, and she doesn’t look too happy.”  
  
Wanda and Timothy’s eyes focused on the first row.  Donna Saint James was indeed watching them from her seat.  She shook her head at them in disgust and turned her attention back to James Rhodes.  
  
“She really is an odd little bird, isn’t she?” mused Wanda to no one in particular.  
  
“And you want to have tea with her?” scoffed Timothy.  “Let’s get out of here and be happy that Benedict didn’t get involved with her.”  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I have no idea what goes on during a Cabin Pressure recording, aside from the few accounts I’ve read online. A good portion of it is purely my imagination. For the purpose of this story, we're going to pretend that everyone had their tea much quicker than it normally would take being I only gave them an hour break. They eat quickly! LOL! 
> 
> 2\. My apologies for any errors in continuity/time lines etc. These are getting tougher to write as things continue to unravel. 
> 
> 3\. This is purely a work of fiction – solely meant to provide entertainment. The goal is for all of us to have a few laughs and an enjoyable read. Nothing more. Even though I attempt to keep it on the realistic side; I enjoy taking liberties in certain areas, which is a writer’s prerogative. :-)


	58. Chapter 58

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Benedict finds himself with two dinner dates.

  
  
Donna Saint James and James Rhodes sat patiently in their seats waiting for someone to come for them. Roughly half the audience had left right after the show. However, the remainder had gone up onto the stage to chat with John Finnemore, who had promised to come out to do a brief meet and greet.  
  
“Hi! Are you Donna and James?” asked the cheerful usher, who had originally shown them to their seats.    
  
“That’s us!” replied Donna.  
  
“I’m Donna,” said James with a deadpan face.  “She’s James.”  
  
“Benedict asked me to bring you both backstage,” the usher said, ignoring James’ feeble attempt at humour.  
  
“So much for joking with him,” James whispered to Donna as they followed the young man onto and across the stage.  They were then led through the same door the cast had used to enter and exit the studio.  
  
The backstage area was much different from the studio.  Everything looked much older and very drab.  The floor was concrete and the white-washed brick walls needed to be touched up in several places. Benedict was waiting for them by the emergency exit door that led to the street.  He was preoccupied with reading a text message.  Donna could tell from the frown on his face and the way he bit his lower lip that the message was not making him particularly happy.  As they approached Benedict, Donna could hear him swearing under his breath.  
  
“For the motherfucking love of Christ!  I just can’t believe it!”  
  
Benedict looked up and offered his mobile to James so he could read the text message as he continued to rant.  
  
“Another one of Mum's epic text messages...you'll find there are actually several. It never fucking ends!  I _specifically_ told her that I couldn’t meet them after the recording.  I was _very_ specific in explaining that I had dinner plans tonight.  Believe me, when I tell you that I could not have been any clearer – and yet!” 

He gestured impatiently to the mobile, while James adjusted his glasses.    
  
Donna looked at the two men standing before her.  Benedict seemed as if he was about to go through the roof.  James was grinning as he read the message and nodding as if he’d been privy to something like this many times before.  
  
“I do love the part where she suggests….”  
  
“That wasn’t a suggestion, that was a _bloody fucking order_ ,” fumed Benedict, running a hand through his auburn curls.    
  
James looked up at Benedict and nodded thoughtfully as he stroked his beard.  
  
“I suppose you do have a point there.”  
  
James cleared his throat and read the rest of the message aloud for Donna’s benefit:    
  
“Skip the pudding course and stop by on your way home. Then we can meet your friend, and it will save you money!  Restaurant puddings are so overpriced and nowhere near as good as what you can have here.”  
  
“Whoever wrote that happens to be right.  Restaurant desserts are way overpriced for what you get,” chimed in Donna.  “So many restaurants don’t even have pastry chefs.  They just buy their cakes and pastries from bakeries and pass them off as in-house made.”  
  
“It’s my mum, also known as the Puppet Mistress in some circles of the family,” sneered Benedict.  
  
 _That really didn’t sound so bad_ , thought Donna. _Then again, I guess I’m used to that kind of behavior from my mom.  And hello to you, too, Benedict._  
  
James held up his hand.  “There’s more:  I baked you a banoffee pie today, and I must say it looks particularly scrumptious!  Dad and I hope you reconsider.”  
  
 _Oh, how sweet!  She made him a pie. I’ve been here since January.  How could it be that I’ve never come across that kind yet? I’ve never heard Dad or Grandpa mention it.  They always talk about  Bakewell tarts._  
  
“What’s banoffee pie?” asked Donna.  
  
“It’s bait,” muttered Benedict disgustedly. “Albeit fucking delicious bait.”  
  
 _What the fuck does he mean by ‘bait’?_  
  
“Excuse me, Ben; but what do you mean by bait?”  
  
“It’s bloody bait to entice me to come over!  She wants to grill me!” exclaimed Benedict with growing annoyance.  “Banoffee pie is my absolute, hands down, favourite pudding.  I’ve been known to eat a whole pie in one sitting. It’s that good.”  
  
 _He’s right.  It’s bait to lure him over.  I’m glad you like it Benedict, but you still haven’t told me what in the hell it actually is._  
  
Donna looked at an amused James and tried again.  “I still don’t know what it is, Ben.  I’ve never heard of it.”  
  
Benedict stared at her as if she had grown another head. “You're a food critic, and you don't know what banoffee pie is?" he asked incredulously, with a slightly sarcastic laugh.

_Well, pardon me to hell for not knowing, Mr. Cumberbatch._

"No.  I honestly don't know, but would like to - as a food critic. Please educate me, and you can drop the sarcasm while you're at it."

Benedict's face reddened slightly as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"It’s a biscuit crust filled with toffee flavoured custard, sliced bananas and Chantilly cream with a chocolate drizzle on top.  It is just the most luscious confection ever; and my mum makes the best,” he said. “She knows I find it impossible to resist.”  
  
 _Of course she does, Benedict,_ thought Donna.  _Every son thinks his mother’s cooking is best. Banoffee pie. Sounds like a basic banana cream pie but with toffee flavoring.  I’ll have to learn to make one that will make him swoon._    
  
“Can you two stop discussing pie and let me finish?” scolded James. “Okay.  Now for the finish:  If she insists on making you buy her pudding, stop in for a nightcap and coffee afterwards.  Dad and I stay up late.  You can also come alone – that might be better.  Then we can talk.”  
  
“She means:  be ready for an hour of intense cross examination,” Benedict snorted.  
  
 _Not only is she wordy and waffles like him, but she’s definitely pushy.  That’s why he’s angry.  She looked so darling though.  Now, I could see Wanda acting like that._  
  
Benedict folded his arms and glared as he watched James and Donna begin to dissolve into a fit of giggles.  
  
“Oh, this is too, too fucking hilarious!” cackled James.  “Ben, your mum is just adorable, bless her.”

"We need to stop laughing, Jimmy," whispered Donna, covering her mouth.  "It wouldn't be so funny if the shoe were on the other foot."

"My mum is not in that class," said Jimmy, taking a deep breath to keep from laughing.

_Hmmm...mine taught that class,_ thought Donna.  
  
“Mum, is many things and adorable is not one of them!  She’s crafty like a fox once she’s got her mind set.  I should have seen the _‘suggestion’_ coming when she started asking me what time my booking was for, but no!  She caught me off guard this time!”  
  
Suddenly, Benedict realized that he had been ranting all this time in front of Donna about his mother. He abruptly shut up and glanced at James, who shook his head at him and quickly put his index finger to his lips in a 'shut up' gesture.

_Shit!  What are you doing Benedict?  You're standing here ranting away about your mother like a total dickhead in front of the woman you hope to marry one day.  They need to get along.  I don't want Donna to get the wrong impression about Mum!_  
  
“Oh my God!  Where are my manners?  I’m so, so sorry,” Benedict walked over to Donna and embraced her.  “Hello, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to be such a tit.”  He leaned down and kissed her on the lips.  “I trust my cardigan kept you nice and warm during the recording?”  
  
James noticed that Benedict had glanced up over Donna’s head at him with a smug smile.  
  
 _Go ahead, Ben.  Knock yourself out and enjoy your payback. There’s more to come._  
  
 _He called me sweetheart,_ thought Donna happily.  _This is the third time he’s used an endearment like that.   I wonder if it was for James’ benefit? I do love how it sounds when he says it with his British accent._  
  
“I saw your mom sitting with her friend and your dad.  They were all the way back in the last row,” said Donna.  “Where all the excitement was,” she added with a laugh.  
  
 _Shit.  I wonder if Donna and James know they were the ones carrying on? I think I’ll choose to ignore her comment for now._  
  
Benedict rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged.  “Yeah.  They got here late and were sat wherever there was room apparently.”  
  
“I thought your mom was very cute.  She looks so sweet,” commented Donna.  
  
Benedict smiled thinly.  “Looks can be deceiving.”  
  
“Benedict! You’re really making her sound horrible!” exclaimed Donna, gently slapping his arm. “I’m not so sure I want to meet her.”  
  
James handed the mobile back to Benedict. “To be honest, I’ve seen your mum be a whole hell of a lot brasher than this.”  
  
“Gosh, now both of you are scaring me,” said Donna with a nervous laugh. “My mom’s the one you have to worry about.  She isn’t called the ‘Barracuda of Broadway’ by her clients for nothing.”  
  
 _Why did I say that?  Oh, Donna , you have such a big, big  mouth. Now you're going to scare Benedict._  
  
Benedict and James both looked momentarily startled by Donna’s comment and exchanged glances.

_The Barricuda of Broadway?  What the fuck is that all about?_ thought Benedict _.  Why that sounds positively terrifying!  She can't actually mean it._  
  
“Oh, come now, Donna! I've seen photos of your mum,” chided Benedict.  “She looks more like a model than a barrister.  I think you’re just exaggerating.”  
  
 _That's what you think, my dear. The problem is, Benedict, I’m not exaggerating one bit,_ thought Donna glumly.  
  
 “Your mum doesn’t look as if she could harm a fly.  She looks so happy and easy-going.”  
  
 _Like you said, Benedict.  Looks can be deceiving,_ thought Donna as Benedict held open the door leading to the street.  
  
The trio walked out of the RADA Studio onto Chenies Street.    
  
“I feel bad I forgot about our man-date,” Benedict said to James.  “Did we ever settle on where to have dinner?”  
  
“Nope.  We had talked about going to the Tate Modern’s restaurant after one of the recordings, so we could have a putter in the exhibits before eating. Then you got too busy up in Pembrokeshire filming and asked me if I would handle the dinner bookings.”  
  
 _Such a pity, but you’ll have to cancel or dine solo tonight, mate.  I’m taking the lady to dinner – alone._  
  
Benedict looked genuinely sorry as he addressed James.  Donna noted that he had crinkled his nose up while giving his friend that little smile she so loved.  
  
“I realize you must have made a booking for dinner tonight; and I feel really, really bad about having to miss it.”  
  
 _There.  I said it.  Now sod off, go home and practice your piano._  
  
James regarded Benedict with a look of amusement.      
  
 _Shame on you, Cumberbatch.  You can’t get rid of me that easily. The cute nose crinkle may work on your woman, but it doesn’t work on me.  You just had part one of your lesson.  Now, it’s time for part two._  
  
“There’s no need to apologize or feel bad, Ben,” said James, clapping Benedict on the shoulder.  “When Donna told me of your plans, I knew you had forgotten our man-date.”  
  
Benedict and Donna exchanged worried glances.  Donna smiled nervously at the obviously smoldering Benedict and scratched at her earlobe.  
  
 _Benedict is not happy, and James is enjoying this a little too much. I wasted some perfectly good breath when I told him off earlier._  
  
 _Let me try the sorrowful and repentant approach,_ thought Benedict.  
  
“I’m a rubbish friend, and I feel _terrible_ about this, Jimmy.  Really I do.  If only I were more organized this wouldn’t have happened.”  
  
“Well, you’re not, Mate; and you’re never going to be – so stop beating yourself up over it,” said James soothingly.  
  
 _You’re not feeling terrible enough to satisfy me just yet.  You need to sweat a little more,_ thought James.  
  
“Being I can’t be in two places tonight, why don’t we pick a night to have dinner as soon as I get back from filming then?”  
  
 _Guilt trip time, James. Lay it on thick, but not too thick._  
  
James managed to put on what he thought was an appropriate sad face.  
  
“I think my feelings are hurting – aching even.  How could you forget, you prat?  We were going to celebrate your birthday tonight since you won’t be around.  We had decided to try that new club in Soho and do some serious partying after dinner.  You know – dancing and getting pissed on champagne and whiskey shots. Everyone’s going to be very disappointed.”  
  
Donna focused her gaze on Benedict, who had begun shifting his weight from one foot to the other as he nervously rubbed the back of his neck.  She almost laughed when she caught him blatantly making eyes at James to shut up, but was ignored.  
  
“Well....erm....yeah...probably, but tonight....”  
  
“Gosh, this sounds fascinating so far.  Please continue, Jimmy,” said Donna, her curiosity aroused. “Do you do this every year?”  
  
 James smiled and nodded at Donna, whom he knew was dying for him to continue. He was only too happy to oblige her.  
  
“All the chaps come along, and then afterwards we take a cab over to Ackland’s house because we’re far too pissed to drive or take public transport.  Then Alice, bless her, - she's Adam's wife by the way - cooks us a full English, which we scarf down and then promptly puke up in her garden.  Then we pass out on the outdoor garden furniture after watching the sunrise  – just like we do every year.”  
  
“Wow, that sounds like such a fun birthday tradition,” quipped Donna as Benedict continued to rub the back of his neck.  “That Alice sure is one lucky woman.”  
  
“Erm...Aw...yeah.  Just a little harmless dancing and drinking. Yeah.  Guys night out and all.  We don’t really do anything _too_ crazy,” explained Benedict quickly. “Right, Jimmy?”  
  
Benedict immediately regretted having asked James to agree with him.  
  
James playfully punched Benedict’s arm.  “Are you shitting me, Ben?  You’re a fucking wild man at these things. Don’t you remember what happened at your birthday celebration last year?”  
  
“Oh, _do_ tell!” said Donna eagerly.  
  
“It _really_ wasn’t a big deal,” countered Benedict.  “We’d better get going.”  
  
“Please.  I’d _love_ to know what happened,” insisted Donna.  She looked back at James. “Being Benedict doesn’t seem to want to tell me.”  
  
Benedict’s neck was beet red, and the color was slowly spreading up his face.  
  
 _For fucks sake! Let me nip this in the bud before he tells her everything._  
  
“It’s not that I don’t want to tell you, its just that there’s nothing much to tell,” chimed in Benedict. “We went to a dance club,  had a few drinks and went back to Adam’s to watch the sun come up.  Nothing out of the ordinary. So, I think I’ll hail us a cab then. Ready Donna?”  
  
 _He doesn’t want James to continue.  He must have been drunk out of his mind,_ thought Donna.  
  
 _I’m just warming up, Ben.  Why the rush?  Oh, yes.  You acted like a complete tit last year and would rather Donna not hear about it._  
  
Benedict stepped over to the kerb and began searching for a cab in vain.  Two went by, but they already had passengers.  
  
“Perhaps we’d have better luck walking over to Gower Street.”  
  
“Oh, It was a hell of a lot more fun than that,” James said to Donna as they began to follow Benedict. “If only you could have been there to see it, as I just can’t do him justice with my description.”  
  
Benedict stopped and glared at his friend. “It’s fine, Jimmy.  Really. Donna gets the idea.  Boring night out with the guys.  A few too many drinks, some crazy dancing and home to bed to wake up with a colossal hangover.”  
  
James took Donna by the arm and guided her over to where Benedict was now frantically waving at a cab.  Unfortunately, this cab also already had passengers.  
  
 _Motherfucking cabs!  Where is an empty one when you need it?_  
  
“You’re just being humble, Ben.  Donna, believe me when I tell you ole’ Ben here was quite the life of the party as they say.”  
  
Benedict continued to glower at James.  “She gets the idea, Jimmy,” he snarled.    
  
 _Yes, I most certainly do.  You made a complete and total ass of yourself and don’t want me to know,_ thought Donna.  _I have a feeling you have a wild streak, Mr. Cumberbatch, that I haven’t been privy to yet._

"Taxi!" Benedict yelled as an empty cab drove by them.  "Not on duty."  
  
“Ben, you really outdid yourself singing and prancing about like Mick Jagger on top of that tiny table.  It was far better than David’s Eric Clapton impression. I don’t understand to this day how you didn’t fall off on your arse….”  
  
Benedict frowned at James. _Jesus, I don’t remember that!_  
  
“…and now that I think about it, your pole dancing was very inspired – regardless of what those strumpets said about you.  I personally thought it was very sexy.”  
  
“Pole dancing?” giggled Donna.  “I can’t visualize that.”  
  
 _Either can I, and I was the one doing it supposedly._  
  
“Not to worry.  I know I have photos at home on my laptop.  I’ll send them to you.”  
  
“What photos?” inquired Benedict in a panic.  “Which of you dicks had the bollocks to take photos?”  
  
“Dennis. He was quite the photographer that night.”  
  
“I wish you would just delete them, Jimmy.”  
  
“So sorry.  Can’t do that.  Besides, if you’re concerned with how you look, let me assure you that he managed to capture you in a variety of flattering poses.”  
  
“I didn’t pose,” insisted Benedict. “I have no recollection of doing that.”

Benedict started to raise his hand at a cab, when James stepped in front of him.  "Let me try. Taxi!"

The empty cab stopped to pick up three women on the opposite side of the street.

_Bugger!_ thought Benedict. _Why does he have to go down Memory Lane all the fucking time?  To embarrass me, obviously._  
  
“I guess the highlight of the evening was when you were demonstrating that you could drink shots while standing on your head.  Now, that was quite an accomplishment.”  
  
Benedict suddenly grinned and nodded as an empty cab drove past them even though James had tried to flag it down.  
  
“Yeah!  That I _do_ remember doing. I think I was able to do seven. You were so angry that you couldn’t do it because you’re bloody glasses kept falling off!” he chortled.  
  
“I was lucky I could do one, and Dennis had to hold me up,” cackled James.

  
“I don’t think you realized how very impressed the barman was.  He gave you free drinks just to see how many you could do.”  
  
 _I must remember never to go out to a club with either of them. Ever_ , thought Donna.  
  
James roared with laughter. “I seem to recall Dennis had a bet going with the barman on how many shots you could do before passing out. The bouncer even apologized when he had to toss us out.”  
  
“I _definitely_ don’t remember being asked to leave,” said Benedict.  “Why would they do that?  We didn’t destroy anything.”  
  
“That was because Mark was so off his face, the bastard couldn’t find the loo and used the brolly stand to relieve himself in.  What a night that was!” guffawed James.  
  
“Gosh, that sounds like _so_ much fun,” said Donna sarcastically.  
  
“He made it sound a lot worse than it was,” Benedict whispered to Donna.    
  
“No, I didn’t,” retorted James, taking off his glasses to clean them with a handkerchief.  “Anyway, we were going to meet up with Dennis, Mark, David and Adam tonight,” continued James.  “I can’t think of the name of the new place – was it Petal?”  
  
 _Shit.  We always hang out for our birthdays,_ thought Benedict as another pang of guilt washed over him. _I can’t give in though...this is the rest of my life that I’m trying to sort out tonight._  
  
“I’m just _crushed_ that we can’t do this, Jimmy;  but as soon as I get back we’ll have a proper celebration and....” began Benedict.  
  
 _Brilliant!  He’s got that guilty_ _look_ , thought James as he put his glasses back on.    
  
“There’s no need to look so forlorn, Ben;  because I have everything sorted, and I’m sure you’ll approve of my plan.”  
  
 _How much do you want to bet on that, mate?_ Thought Benedict nervously.  _Why do I have this sinking feeling that he’s found a way to cock up my night?_  
  
 _His bloody face just fell – I love it!  Now, for the clincher._  
  
“I had gone ahead and made a booking at the Tate Modern’s restaurant.”  
  
 _I have a booking at the Tate for Donna and I. He’ll have to eat by himself._  
  
“So I rang them up earlier,” continued James. “And they were able to change the booking to three people. This way no one has to eat alone tonight, and we can all go to Petal afterwards to celebrate your birthday together. This will give Donna a chance to meet the chaps and do some dancing of her own. We’d better hurry though, or they’ll give our table away.”  
  
James smiled to himself _. Christ!  I wish I had a photo of his face right now.  He looks like he swallowed an extra sour lemon._

“Taxi!” Benedict bellowed, as he raised his arm in vain.  Two cabs passed them.  “Motherfuckers!”  He growled through gritted teeth in frustration. “Do the bastards not see us?”  
  
Benedict cast another sideways glance at Donna, who rolled her eyes and shrugged as if to say:  Let’s make the best of it.  
  
 _Damn him!  I need to be alone with Donna tonight, but the wanker has me trapped.  I’m going to have to go along with it._  
  
Donna sighed heavily and walked to the curb.  She held up her hand and waved at the next empty taxi that drove down the street.  “For God’s sake!  How hard can it be to flag down a cab?” she demanded impatiently. “Let me do it! Taxi!” she called out.  
  
A black cab quickly cut across traffic and rolled to the curb in front of them.  
  
“And _that’s_ how it’s done, Gentlemen,” said Donna haughtily.    
  
“For fucks sake,” sighed Benedict.  “I give up!”  
  
“It seems to be a question of who has better legs, and Donna definitely won,” quipped James, as he opened the door for Donna  and followed her into the cab.  
  
“Perhaps the next time I need a cab, I’ll dress in drag,” quipped Benedict as he climbed in on the other side. 

"Oh, what I wouldn't give to see that!" Donna laughed.

"When I get home, I'll email you the photos.  He dressed up in drag last year for a charity event,"  said James with a smirk. 

Donna raised an eyebrow at Benedict.  "Really? What was it for?"

"It was for a charity gala called 'Wig Out' last December.  It was held at the Royal Court. I actually thought I looked quite fetching," scoffed Benedict.  "I was told I have great legs."

"He made an ugly woman, trust me," snickered James.  
  
“If you're all done discussing whether the bloke here looked good as a woman or not, might someone be able to tell where I can take you?”  the driver asked.  "I don't care one way or the other if you just want to sit and chat while the meter's running."  
  
“Sorry, sir. We need to go to the Tate Modern, please,”  instructed Donna Saint James.  
  
  
  
  
  
The trio found the Tate Modern restaurant packed when they arrived.  
  
“I’ll go check in at the podium.  Why don’t you two go have a drink at the bar?” suggested James.  
  
Benedict and Donna made their way to the crowded bar.  There was one empty stool, which Benedict motioned for Donna to take.  He stood behind her, his hands resting on either side of her waist as she perused the drinks menu.  
  
“I’m so sorry this happened, Donna.  It wasn’t supposed to be like this.  I wanted for us to be alone tonight,” he whispered in her ear.    
  
“It’s okay.  Things like this happen.  Let’s just celebrate your birthday and enjoy the evening,” said Donna, turning to look at him.  She stroked his cheek. “I’m really looking forward to meeting all your friends…and perhaps getting an opportunity to see you pole dance,” she giggled.  
   
“But this is our last night together for three weeks,” said Benedict miserably.  “And as much as I adore Jimmy’s company, I wanted it to be just us...so we could talk some more.”  
  
 _More talking?  I had planned to do all the talking tonight. I wanted to tell him about my conversation with Jimmy. I don’t want Benedict going away for three weeks and not knowing how I feel about him – that I love him and am committed to him one hundred percent._  
  
“Good evening! What can I get for you two?” asked the barman.  
  
“A Sanctimonious Tenacity for me, please,” said Donna.  
  
“Gin and tonic with lime, please,” said Benedict.    
  
Donna helped herself to a spiced almond from the dish of nuts on the bar. It was honey-roasted with a touch of sea salt and a liberal sprinkling of cayenne pepper. She took another one and popped it into Benedict’s mouth.  
  
“Those are spicy!” he said, smacking his lips.  “Just what in the hell is a Sanctimonious Tenacity?”  
  
Donna picked up the drinks menu and read from it.  “Pink peppercorn infused Tate gin, Canton ginger liqueur, pear syrup, apple juice. Sounds rather tasty, doesn’t it?”  
  
James suddenly squeezed his way in to stand beside Benedict.  “I’ve be assured that our table will be ready in ten minutes.  What are we drinking?”  
  
“Gin and tonic for me and Donna is being very sanctimonious tonight,” quipped Benedict as he handed James the drink menu.  
  
“I think the Eye Opener, not only sounds good, but is appropriate given the situation,” said James with a slight smirk.    
  
“What’s in that?” inquired Donna, as Benedict relayed James’ order to the barman.    
  
“White rum, Canton ginger liqueur, Grand Marnier  & apricot,” replied James, laying the menu down on the bar.  “Donna, could you please excuse Ben and I for a moment?”  
  
“Of course.”  
  
Benedict and James went to stand over by the window, which offered a spectacular view of Saint Paul’s Cathedral across the Thames.   James pulled a beeper out of his pocket and handed it to Benedict.  
  
“Here.  This is yours.”  
  
“Why don’t you want to hold onto it?”  
  
“Because it isn’t mine,” replied James as he removed a second beeper from his other pocket.  “This one is for my table.”  
  
Benedict frowned.  “What the fuck?  You had changed the booking to three people. Why did you change it back? As much as I want to be alone with Donna tonight, I won’t have you sat by yourself.  That’s ridiculous.  You’re welcome to share our table.  I’ll go sort it out,” he said.  
  
“Stop,” said James tugging on Benedict’s sleeve to keep him from walking away.  “I never changed the bookings in the first place.  You always had a booking for a table for two that you made.  I never made one for us.  I only made a separate booking for two in my name this afternoon.”    
  
“Well, you’ve lost me. What in the fuck is this all about?”  
  
“Teaching you a lesson, you wanker.  I’m not at all happy the way you decided to cancel my date with Donna Friday morning.  It was a low and selfish thing to do.”  
  
“She was hungover and sleeping,” retorted Benedict.  
  
“Bollocks she was sleeping.  I heard her voice, and you pretended there was a bad connection and couldn’t hear me.  You took it upon yourself to sabotage my date with her, so you could have her all to yourself. Am I wrong?”  
  
Benedict looked like a deer caught in the headlights and shoved his hands in his pockets.  
  
“No.  You’re not wrong,” he replied in a low voice. “Not one of my prouder moments.”  
  
“I heartily agree.  Anyway, I decided that I would not be deprived of my date with Donna; so I decided that I would have my date with her today.”  
  
Benedict nodded.  “This is my payback for Friday. I had a feeling it might be.”  
  
“Yes.  It is...it was.  However, fate has a great sense of humour and has other ideas about how things should work out for us – regardless of what we want.”  
  
“Does it?”  
  
“Oh, yes.  Because I had plenty of time to do some serious thinking all day yesterday.”  
  
“Come up with any profound thoughts?” asked Benedict sarcastically.  
  
“Indeed I did.  I realized that the feelings I have for Donna are purely those of friendship.  There isn’t any romantic chemistry between us, and she doesn’t share my love and passion for classical music.  Not to mention my smoking would wind up coming between us.”  
  
“Did you tell her this?”  
  
“Yeah.  We had a long talk about it yesterday over tea during the break.  She agrees with me totally. You’re the one she wants, you arsehole; and I’m pretty sure I want to be with Hattie.”  
  
“But you still acted as if you were still romantically interested in Donna.”  
  
“That was solely for your benefit, Ben.  I wanted to teach you a lesson to mind your own business and let people manage their own affairs. My dating Donna was none of your concern.  Then we both got caught up in vying for her attention and turned it into a game. I want to apologize for the part I played. I also owe you an apology for distracting you this afternoon at _Cabin Pressure_. I had no right to allow things to intrude upon your work environment. Most importantly, it was never my intent to jeopardize our friendship over a woman. In the end, you fretted needlessly because the lady chose you.”  
  
Benedict looked down at his shoes, then up again.  He met his friend's dark brown eyes.  
  
“I acted like a jealous dolt, when I had nothing to be jealous about.  I’m sorry for my contribution, Jimmy.  I also never meant for our friendship to suffer.”  
  
James smiled at him.  “Apology accepted.  Now, I believe you have a pretty lady waiting for you at the bar.  I know I have one waiting for me around the corner.”  
  
“Then I think we’d best go fetch your pretty lady to join us at the bar for a drink,” said Benedict.  


  
  
  
Donna sat at the bar snacking on the mixed nuts when she spied Benedict making his way back to the bar with James and Hattie in tow.  They were all smiling.  
  
“Hi Hattie,” said Donna shyly.  
  
“Hi, Donna.  Nice to see you again.”  
  
Donna passed James and Benedict their drinks, and Benedict helped her off the stool so they could all go chat by the window.  James whispered in Donna’s ear.  
  
“We apologized to each other. No more worries.”  
  
“What shall we drink to?” asked Hattie.  
  
“Allow me,” said James, holding up drink.  
  
The others held up their glasses as James made a toast.  
  
“To closed dating and open hearts.”

 

  
  
  
Benedict and Donna were led to a window table for two in the far corner of the restaurant.  It was the same table they had been moved too the first time they had dined there.  She noticed that James and Hattie had a table on the other side of the room, far from the tourists and their cameras.  Donna was also relieved to find out that James had been joking about going out to a dance club after dinner.  
  
Benedict held out Donna’s chair so she could sit down.  It was the same chair she sat in the last time.  He sat beside her and took her hand in his and gently rubbed the back of it with his thumb.    
  
“Alone at last,” he smiled, ice blue eyes twinkling.  
  
“Yes,” Donna breathed in relief.  “Finally.  I’m so glad you and James are still friends after everything that happened.”  
  
“We’re fine.  Really.  Everything has been sorted out and back to normal or what passes for normal between us,” he chuckled.  
  
Donna took a sip of her drink.  “Oh, this is amazing! Have a taste.”  
  
Benedict smiled at her and took a small sip.  “This is where we came in.  I feel like we’re re-enacting our first time here.”  
  
“Oh my God, I hope the hell not!  I refuse to act as anyone’s vacation photographer tonight.”  
  
“I made sure to request this corner window table when I booked so we wouldn’t have to worry about the tourists interrupting,” said Benedict. “I don’t think I have the patience for it tonight.”  
  
“I will also make every effort to keep my food on my plate this time,” Donna giggled.  
  
Benedict took another sip of her drink and handed it back to her.  “That is good.”  He watched her take a sip from the same spot he had had his lips. “I see you’re no longer afraid of getting germs from me. Last time you turned the glass around.”  
  
 _Good gravy!  Is there nothing this man doesn’t notice?_  
  
“I’ve become quite fond of your germs.”  
  
He held out his hand to her.  “Where’s your trusty little bottle?”  
  
Donna laughed as she took out her hand sanitizer and squirted some in the palms of their hands.  
  
“Pear and almonds?” sniffed Benedict.  “It goes with your drink.”  
  
“Very funny.  After such an exciting day, I believe we need to make a toast.”  
  
Benedict reached for his glass, but it wasn’t there.  He frowned. “Oh, shit!  I left my drink at the bar.  I’ll be right back.”  
  
All of a sudden, a pale, slender hand appeared from behind and placed a fresh Gin and Tonic in front of Benedict.  Donna looked up to see that it was Fredrick, the tall, cadaverous-looking blond server from their last visit.  She gently nudged Benedict’s foot under the table.  
  
“Here you are, sir.  Gin and Tonic....with lime, if I recall correctly,” he said with obvious distaste.  
  
“Yeah.  Perfect.  Thank you,” said Benedict, a flicker of recognition in his eyes.  
  
“It’s good to see you both again.  I’m Fredrick, and it will be my pleasure to take care of  you this evening.”  
  
“Nice to see you, too,” said Donna.  “We even have the same table.”  
  
“With a clear shot to the serving station, should you decide to bowl with your pudding again,” said Fredrick with a smirk.  “I’ll give you some time to peruse the menu. You’ll find our selections have changed with the season.”  
  
Donna and Benedict exchanged glances as he walked away to check on another table.  
  
“I do believe Lurch was teasing us!” giggled Benedict.  “How about that?”  
  
“Maybe he felt sorry for us that night because so many things went wrong.”  
  
“Or possibly because I left him an extra gratuity for saving us from the tourists and giving us this table.”  
  
“Just be nice to him, Benedict.”  
  
“He’s the one who was trying to intimidate me that night. Besides, I’m always nice.  I was a waiter once, so I know what it’s like.”  
  
“Where?”  
  
“I worked for a caterer called the Chocolate Tart for two years in between acting jobs. It was hard work, but one perk was all the chocolate I could eat.”  
  
“Did you ever get sick of all the chocolate?”  
  
“Hell, no! I'm an absolute tart for chocolate, pardon the pun.”  
  
“I wouldn’t get sick of it either. One summer Carly and I worked in the Confectionery in the Magic Kingdom.  I spent all day making peanut brittle and Rice Krispy Treats in the shape of Mickey Mouse’s head.  I was also able to eat as much as I wanted and still love both.”  
  
Fredrick returned to their table.  “What can I get for Madame?”  
  
Donna looked at the menu quickly.  “I’ll have the goat cheese salad for an appetizer and the monk fish loin for my entree.”  
  
“Excellent choices, Madame.  The monk fish is succulent. You won’t be disappointed!”  
  
Donna smiled widely at Benedict, who rolled his eyes.  
  
 _Once again, he praises her choices.  I can’t wait for him to give me the stony silence of disapproval again._  
  
“What can I get for sir?”  
  
Donna tittered and clapped her hand over her mouth as she imagined Roger Allan uttering those words.  Benedict shot her a withering look.  
  
 _Oh oh.  He knows why I was laughing, and doesn’t seem too pleased about it.  I think I’ll just look at my nails for a bit._  
  
“Sorry,” she said putting her head down. “Go ahead, Benedict.  
  
Benedict cleared his throat.  “I’ll have the oysters for my starter.”  
  
“Six or twelve?”  
  
“Fancy sharing some oysters, Donna?”  
  
“Sure.”  
  
“We’ll have twelve,” said Benedict.  
  
Fredrick actually smiled and nodded.  “The oysters are superlative, sir.  I know you’ll enjoy them.”

_Bloody hell!  He actually approves of my starter!_  
  
“For my main I’ll try the veal chop.”  
  
Fredrick made a face of disapproval.  He leaned down and whispered to Benedict. “Not a good choice.”  
  
 _I should have known.  I wonder why he disapproves?_  
  
“May I ask why not?”  
  
Fredrick looked behind him to make sure no one was listening before leaning down to whisper to Benedict again.  
  
“The veal chop tends to come out dry every time.  The chef hasn’t a clue how to prepare veal properly.  However, he does a wonderful job with fish.  I highly recommend either of the fish mains. You will not be sorry.”  
  
“In that case I’ll have the trout,” said Benedict as he handed the menu back to Fredrick.  “I appreciate your honesty.”  
  
Fredrick nodded and turned his attention to Donna.  “Do you fancy some wine to accompany your meals?  We just revamped our wine list to complement the new menu.  I know you’ll be very impressed, Madame.”  
  
 _What the fuck?  Shouldn’t he be addressing me about the wine?  He knows Donna is knowledgeable about wine, and I’m not.  I need to keep control of the situation._  
  
Benedict looked at Donna questioningly. “Shall we split a bottle, Donna?”  
  
“Yes.  I’d love to.”  
  
 _Fuck.  Now, this is the part I’ve been dreading.  How smug he looks.  If I didn’t know better, I’d say he’s been waiting for this moment. He knows that I still probably know shit about wine.  The last time I used John’s suggestion to let him choose.  I guess it couldn’t hurt to do it again, but the bastard knew why I did that.  I do know that white wine goes with fish, so I’ll start there. Perhaps I can bluff my way a bit._  
  
Benedict smiled at Fredrick, whose lips were curled up in a slight smirk.    
  
“What do you suggest in a white, Fredrick? I’m more of a red wine drinker, so I’m not very familiar.  Since your recommendation was so good last time, I’ll trust your instincts again.”  
  
 _He knows nothing about wine,_ thought Donna.  That’s why he always asks the waiters for their recommendations. I’m going to offer to teach him.  
  
Fredrick straightened up and beamed at Benedict.  “I’d be happy to, sir.  May I recommend the Limney ‘Horsmonden’ from the  Davenport Vineyards in East Sussex.  They only use organic grapes.”  
  
 _Organic grapes.  I suppose that is my cue to put on my impressed face,_ thought Benedict as he arranged his face into an impressed expression.  
  
“Really?  I’ve tasted many wines, but to be honest, I can’t tell the difference between organic and non-organic grapes,” commented Donna.  
  
Fredrick leaned down and whispered to Donna.  “Neither can I, Madame; but it often impresses our less knowledgeable customers.”  
  
 _Like me,_ thought Benedict as he sipped his Gin and Tonic. _However, I’m not impressed in the slightest_. _I only care if it tastes good to me._  
  
“You’ll find this wine is nice and refreshing, Madame.  It is crisp with just a hint of fruitiness and has a clean finish to it.  It’s very light and pleasing to the palate. Not to mention the price is quite reasonable for organic.”  
  
Benedict suppressed a smile. _All that blah, blah, blah which translates to:  it tastes good._  
  
Fredrick looked directly at Benedict. “In other words, it goes well with seafood dishes.”  
  
 _Well he sure told me,_ thought Benedict in disgust.  _It goes well with seafood – that’s all the drippy actor needs to know.  Fuck that!  I’m going to get my arse to Waterstones and get a book on how to choose motherfucking wines._  
  
Benedict’s mobile phone went off.  He looked at the caller ID.  It was John Grant, his agent.  
  
“Erm…please excuse me for a moment, Donna.  It’s John.  I have to take this.  He may have good news for me.”  
  
Fredrick and Donna watched Benedict disappear into the bar area.  
  
“Were you here to see the new Dali exhibit?” Fredrick asked as he took a stainless steel pitcher from one of the busboys and refilled their water glasses himself.  “I’ve heard nothing but raves for the past two days.”  
  
“No. We just came from a radio show recording,” Donna said.  “I’ve never been to one, so it was a lot of fun.”  
  
“Which series?” inquired Fredrick.  “I’m a fan of several.”  
  
“ _Cabin Pressure_. Are you familiar with it?”  
  
“It’s one of my favorites. John Finnemore is a brilliant writer.”  
  
“My…boyfriend plays Martin Crief,” said Donna proudly.  
  
Fredrick looked back towards the bar.  “The man you’re with tonight?”  
  
Donna nodded.  “Yes, and when you said ‘What can I get for sir?’ it reminded me of something Douglas would say to Martin.  I wasn’t making fun of you.”  
  
“Now that you mention it, he does sound a lot like Martin.  His natural voice is a bit lower.”  
  
“He uses a slightly higher-pitched voice for Martin,” explained Donna.  
  
“I’ll be right back with your starters,” said Fredrick. “Please excuse me.”  
  
Benedict returned to the table, wearing a huge smile.  
  
“You had good news, I take it.”  
  
“Yeah.  I’ve been offered the lead role in _Wreckers_.”  
  
“Congratulations!” said Donna, leaning over to kiss him. “That’s great news!  You thought they wanted you back for another audition tomorrow.  Can you come to the Duck and Waffle now?  James and Hattie are going to help me do the review along with Carly and Steve.”  
  
Benedict looked disappointed.  “As much as I’d love to, I’m afraid I can’t.  I have to meet with John in his office to review the contract they sent over. The money’s great, so if everything else looks good, I’ll sign it.  Then I have to head off for the Miss Marple filming.  Can I have a rain check?”  
  
“Of course you can.  I love doing reviews with you.”  
  
“That’s because we have the same likes when it comes to food. You never have to tell me what to order.”  
  
Fredrick returned with a bottle of wine, which he made a great show of pouring a taste into a glass for Benedict to give his approval.  
  
 _Okay. I’m supposed to smell it first, then swirl it around it and drink it. Mmmm..the man really knows his wine.  I can’t fault him for that._  
  
“Delicious.  Just as you described it. You have excellent taste in wines, Fredrick,” said Benedict.  
  
Fredrick nodded his thanks and filled their glasses.  “I’ll be right back with your starters.”  
  
Benedict raised his glass to Donna.  “What shall we drink to this time?”  
  
“Two things.  Your landing that movie and being you’ll be away for your birthday, this should count as your birthday dinner.  So, Happy Early Birthday, my dear Benedict!  And may you have many, many more!” said Donna, touching her glass to his.  
  
“Thank you,” he said graciouslys he took a sip. “Lurch really knows his wine," he snickered.  
  
“Yes, he does,” agreed Donna, trying to suppress a smile.  
  
“I fucking hate him!” laughed Benedict.  “I know absolutely nothing about wine, Donna; and what makes it all the more emasculating is that he knows that I don’t know.  I hate having to ask the servers or sommeliers to choose for me whenever we go out.”    
  
“Would you like me to give you some pointers?”  
  
“YES!  I’d love that.”  
  
“It’s a date; and I will cook you dinner this time. My famous lasagna.”  
  
“I adore Italian cuisine.”

"Well, you're in luck, Benedict.  I was talking to Jamie Oliver this week, and his next venture is to open up an Italian restaurant chain."

Benedict’s eyes lit up. “Oh, this is the first I’m hearing about it. Tell me more.”

 

"Carly's going to design the interior. The plan is to showcase moderate-priced Italian foods from Sicily. I really shouldn’t be telling you this..."

“I promise I won’t tell a soul,” interrupted Benedict with a smile.

_Why did I tell him that? Its not for public knowledge yet._   _His tongue is as loose as mine.  OH, good - here come the appetizers!_  
  
Fredrick approached the table with their starters.  
  
“Herb crusted goats’ cheese, grapefruit, candied beetroot on wild watercress for Madame.  Fresh oysters for sir,” he said with a flourish.  
  
Donna noticed that Fredrick was wearing the tiniest hint of a smile when he said ‘sir’. Benedict didn’t seem to notice as he seemed to be preoccupied with his private thoughts.  
  
“Benedict, can I ask you something?”  
  
“Hmmm?”  he ate an oyster with some hot sauce.  “Mmmm…have one – they taste like they came right off the boat.”  
  
“You seemed annoyed when I laughed at Fredrick before – when he called you _sir_ ….” She let it trail off as she ate some salad.  
  
Benedict squirted a bit of lemon on another oyster, dipped it in the sauce and held out the fork to Donna.  
  
“It’s just that it reminded me of _Cabin Pressure_ , and I realize that’s why you started to laugh. When I’m done with work, I like to shake off the character and get back to being me as soon as possible.  I still had a bit of Martin with me, so to speak; and it was time to put him away. After a performance, I need time to relax and get back to…normal – for lack of a better word.”  
  
Donna ate the oyster and automatically put some of her salad on his plate.  
  
“I didn’t realize that.  I always assumed it was something you just turned on and off.”  
  
“Not at all.  I need time to get into character when I’m doing a job, and the same applies to getting out of character when I’m done.”  
  
Donna nodded.  “There’s a lot I don’t know about dating an actor.  It’s very interesting.”  
  
“I find it interesting dating a food critic.  How’s the salad?”  
  
“Very good.  The goat cheese is warm and creamy.  It goes well with the sweetness of the beetroot.  The only thing I would have added was some crunch -–like some nuts or seeds. It makes for a more interesting texture.”  
  
As the meal progressed, Donna noticed that Benedict wasn’t his usual chatty self; and she was doing most of the talking. He seemed anxious and definitely distracted, offering one word answers.    
  
 _I wonder what’s wrong.  It’s like someone flipped his off switch. He’s always so talkative that I can’t get a word in edgewise.  He’s also rubbing the back of his neck and his thigh.  Something is definitely bothering him._  
  
Fredrick appeared to clear off the table and refill their wine glasses.  
  
“Benedict, is something wrong?  You’re not acting like yourself.  Are you feeling okay?”  
  
Benedict ran his hand through his hair as he looked at Donna.  Her face wore a concerned expression.  
  
 _I can’t stand sitting here any longer without telling her how I feel.  I need to hear it from her if she feels the same way. It just seems that things are going too well right now – I never expected Jimmy to bow out of the picture today.   I need to get this out in the open and see what she says.  There isn’t any reason to delay this until after I get back._  
  
“Donna, you’re right.  There is something that’s been eating away at me.  I need to tell you something before I leave. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about the conversation we had in my flat.”    
  
 _The waffling commitment conversation.   I remember it like it was just last night – oh, it was.  How much more thinking can this man do?_  
  
Fredrick appeared as if from out of nowhere with their entrees.  
  
“Madame, your monk fish loin, vinaigrette of citrus, saffron and Morecambe Bay brown shrimps.”  
  
“Oh, this smells wonderful!” said Donna enthusiastically, as the fragrance wafted up to her nose from the plate.  
  
“Sir, your Atlantic sea trout, seasonal vegetables, balsamic reduction and red wine fish sauce.”  
  
Fredrick stood back and surveyed the table. “Black pepper for anyone?”  
  
“No, thank you,” said Donna and Benedict together.  
  
“Enjoy then and let me know if there is anything else you need.”  
  
 _Yes, I need you to go and go quickly so I can finish what I have to say before I lose my nerve_ , thought Benedict with annoyance.  
  
Donna watched as Benedict sat with his jaw set as if his teeth were clenched and rubbing his thigh under the table.  
  
 _Jeez, I wish he’d just spit it out.  He looks so serious that he’s starting to make me nervous. Is he suddenly not-so-keen on us being in a committed relationship? I can’t believe he’s the type to take back what he said...but you never know sometimes. I know he can be moody._  
  
Benedict swallowed nervously and made small circles on the table top with his long index finger.  He looked out at Saint Paul’s Cathedral, as if he were struggling to come up with the right words.  
  
 _Okay.  I’m going to break that damn index finger if he doesn’t say something soon.  The suspense is going to kill me._  
  
Finally, Benedict turned his gaze on her and rubbed the back of his neck. His eyes looked almost green in the lighting.  He swallowed again as he stopped making circles on the table.  
  
“I was originally going to wait until I got back from filming to bring this up, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that it’s just best to lay all my cards on the table.  Especially, since Jimmy is no longer relevant to the situation.”  
  
 _I haven’t a clue as to what he’s getting at_ , thought Donna, as she forked up a bite of the fish.  _Fredrick’s right again.  This is superb, and he sure knows his wines. Maybe I should take him along on some of my reviews._  
  
“Last night I put you on the spot with all that talk of making a commitment...when I wasn’t even considering what you may have wanted. I was totally thinking of my own wants and desires. It was very selfish of me.”  
  
Donna put down her fork.  
  
 _What the fuck?  Are we going to take another ride on the commitment carousel of no progress?_  
  
“Maybe I’m imagining all this, but didn’t we both decide we wanted to be in a committed relationship with each other and wanted a future together?”  
  
Benedict poked at his vegetables with his fork.  He suddenly had no interest in the food before him.  His mouth had gone dry, and he sipped some water.  
  
“Erm...well...we did discuss it.  Definitely.  It’s just that I wanted to wait because I wanted you to be sure that this was what you really wanted.  I feel I may have pressured you.”  
  
 _Jeez Louise! That’s enough!  Ride over. Time to straighten him out._  
  
Donna banged her water glass down on the table, causing the ice water to slosh over the top and onto her plate, soaking her food in icy water, while three ice cubes bounced across the table onto Benedict’s plate.  
  
 _Oh shit!  Now she’s angry with me.  I just should have spat it out already._  
  
“Okay.  You’re making me _nuts_ with this waffling of yours, Benedict!  _You_ want us to be a committed couple.  _I_ want us to be a committed couple…,” began Donna in exasperation.  
  
“Shush, Donna!  Everyone around us now knows this.  Please keep your voice down!”  
  
“I gave you a _one hundred percent commitment_ last night.  We sealed it with a kiss even – then _you_ come up with this wacky idea that I have to get Jimmy out of my system, when he wasn’t in it to begin with,” Donna snarled at him. “You should be _happy_ , but you look like you just lost your best friend. What is the problem?”  
  
Benedict held up his hand for her to lower her voice and leaned closer to her, as they were sitting at an angle to each other.  He ran his hand through his hair.  
  
“I realize that.  Then I did a lot of serious thinking when I got home and this morning.  There’s something that I need…want to tell you.  I was originally going to wait and tell you when I got back, but it's of paramount importance to me.”  
  
Alarm bells went off in Donna’s head and her mouth had suddenly gone dry.  
  
 _Wait a minute.  Is he going to tell me that he changed his mind and doesn't want to be in a relationship after all ?_  
  
“Oh my, accidents do have a way of happening to you two. Let me get you fresh mains!” exclaimed Fredrick as he whisked their plates away.    
  
Neither Benedict nor Donna acknowledged him, their eyes locked on each others.  The tension between them was very thick, and Fredrick could feel it.  
  
Once they were alone again.  Benedict took a sip of his wine and looked about the room.  James and Hattie were chatting away and laughing as they ate their meal.  
  
“Ahem.  As I was saying, the more I think about it, the more I've decided there isn't any reason to delay the inevitable.”  
  
Tears sprang to Donna’s eyes.  _Oh my God. This is worse than I thought.  He’s going to break up with me.  He changed his mind.  I will not cry in front of him.  I will hear him out and simply go to the Ladies Room to compose myself.  Then I’ll go home to further cry my eyes out._  
  
 _Okay.  Here goes, Benedict.  Just say it.  Christ, all I can hear is the blood rushing in my ears.  I just wish my stomach weren’t doing flip flops and my heart would stop racing._  
  
Benedict reached out and took Donna’s hand in between his.  Donna flinched and tried to pull away, but he held on tight.  His hands were trembling slightly, and his palms felt damp.  He looked into her hazel eyes and smiled shyly.  
  
“I love you.”  
  
 _He loves me!  That’s what he’s been waffling about!  This adorable man just wanted to tell me he loves me!  I want to shout it from the rooftops!_  
  
Donna sighed with relief and smiled warmly at him.  She realized that her hand was also trembling and used her free hand to cover his.  
  
“I love you, too, Benedict.”  
  
 _She does love me! How many times have I’ve dreamt of her saying those words to me?  It was so much better hearing it in person. She’s perfect_.  
  
This time Fredrick remained in the background with the freshly prepared mains as he watched the couple share a kiss to celebrate their newly-declared love for each other.    


 

 

 

Benedict in drag at the "Wig Out" gala.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Well, that was it! Benedict and Donna have finally expressed their love for each other after how many chapters? :-)
> 
> 2\. I will be starting to move things along at a quicker pace. We will be having some time jumps, so I can get to where I want to be. 
> 
> 3\. For the sake of this chapter, we will pretend Donna never heard of banoffee pie, when she most likely would have. 
> 
> 4\. I’ve tinkered with the timeline for Wreckers.
> 
> 5\. I like long text messages...mine are long when I do send them, which isn't often and probably why I don't. LOL 
> 
> 6\. Benedict really did dress in drag for a charity event called "Wig Out" at the Royal Court Theatre back in December 2008. The photo is from there. 
> 
> 7\. A big thank you to the lovely Scarlett for your instructions on inserting photos! That was too easy! xxxx
> 
> 8\. Here’s wishing James and Hattie Rhodes good luck on their marriage yesterday!


	59. Chapter 59

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dinner at the Tate Modern ends with Donna getting a glimpse into the future. Things heat up between Benedict and Donna. Wanda and Timothy have a visitor.

  
“Here we are! Hope you enjoy your mains,” said Fredrick as he placed the steaming replacement dishes in front of Donna and Benedict.  A runner came from behind to refill Donna’s water.    
  
“I notice they didn’t give you ice this time,” observed Benedict with a sly grin.  “Nor did they fill it to the top.  I think they’re afraid of what you’ll do next.”  
  
“I do have a reputation to uphold here,” laughed Donna.  “You gave me quite a scare just now.”  
  
Benedict found his appetite had suddenly returned and had tucked into his trout.  “How so?” he asked around a mouthful of food.  
  
“I thought you were going to break up with me,” Donna replied, eyes filling with tears again as she put down her fork and took a Kleenex from her handbag.  
  
“Oh, crumpets!  It was never my intent to frighten you, Darling,” Benedict said, patting her arm.  “I suppose I’m not the most suave man you’ll ever meet when it comes to being romantic.”  
  
Donna blew her nose and shook her head.  “That’s not true.  I think you’re very suave and romantic. I’ve never dated a man who has been so considerate and thoughtful – the way you took care of me when I had too much to drink at the Golden Fleece, how you're always so concerned that I get home safely - I can go on and on.”  
  
“Any gentleman worth his salt would have done those things.”  
  
“I’m going to have to disagree.  I’ve dated some real jerks. You went out of your way to cook me that wonderful dinner last night from scratch with a dessert that was just to die for.”  
  
 _Hmmm...I fooled her with the ‘deconstructed Black Forest Cake’.  Ha ha ha!_  
  
“When I got overheated, you made sure I was cool and comfortable.”  
  
“I _want_ to do these things for you, Donna.  I want to take care of you.”  
  
“And you do...not to mention all those thoughtful little gifts such as that adorable cow vase, the flowers....”  
  
“Keeping your supply of chocolate mints from running out,” he added, forking some fish and vegetables. “Though that one is partly for selfish reasons.”  
  
Donna sipped some wine and raised an eyebrow at Benedict over the rim of her glass. 

“How so?”  
  
“When I’m with you, I don’t have to carry them around. There are always some in your handbag.”  
  
“You make me feel special and loved.”  
  
“You’re just happy that you now have someone to cry with at sad movies,” teased Benedict.  “I’ve always been soppy like that,” he sighed.    
  
“That’s not soppy!  That’s sentimental. I love that you aren’t afraid to show your emotions in front of me.  It’s part of what makes you all the more endearing to me.  And I won’t go into just how damn sexy you are in public, but I plan on showing you later on.”    
  
“I appreciate the ego boast - Lord knows I could use one; but I know better,” he chuckled deeply.  
  
 _Wait a minute, Benedict.  Did she say she’s going to demonstrate how sexy she finds you later on?  That’s a loaded statement that can be taken many ways…all of them good._  
  
“Then we’re going to have to agree to disagree, because I meant everything I said.”  
  
 “I believe this makes us an officially committed couple then, yes?”  
  
“It certainly does.  Just you and me from here on in, Benedict Cumberbatch.”

Donna raised her wine glass and smiled at him.

"To us!"

"To us!" agreed Benedict, touching his glass to hers.

They leaned towards each other a shared another gentle kiss.

Benedict sat back in his chair, smiling widely at her, ice blue eyes twinkling.  
  
“This has turned out to be a brilliant evening!  I’m so over the moon right now!"

"Me, too."

"In that case, how about we celebrate by further co-mingling our germs and share our dinners.  I’m dying to taste your monk fish.”  
  
As they ate their dinner, Donna noticed that the people around her had begun to turn their attention to the center of the room.  She glanced over her shoulder and almost choked as she recognized Jude Law with his three children in tow and a woman who must have been their nanny.  An older couple was also with them, who Donna guessed to be Jude’s parents as he resembled them.  She tugged Benedict’s sleeve and whispered excitedly:  
  
“Look!  Behind us!  It’s Jude Law!  Oh my, he’s so gorgeous in person! Tonight must be his off night from Hamlet. We just saw him a couple of weeks ago on stage and here he is!”  
  
“Eating just like a _real_ person,” muttered Benedict as he continued to eat his dinner. “Who would have thought the man actually _eat_ s?”

Donna turned her attention back to her plate and ate some shrimp.  
  
 _He's making fun of me.  I believe this is my hint that I’m making too big a deal out of this.  Time to shut up and concentrate on my man; but it’s so hard not to stare at Jude._  
  
Before she realized it, Donna had turned to stare again and tugged at Benedict's sleeve again.

“Wow, look where they put him!  Smack dab in the center of the dining room.  I would have thought he would have been given a private table somewhere.”  
  
Benedict stopped eating his trout long enough to turn and take a quick look.  He shook his head in disgust.  
  
“Jesus Christ!  They had the bollocks to sit him right in the middle of the fucking dining room.  The poor sod must feel like he’s sitting in a fish bowl,” commented Benedict as he sipped his wine.  “How can they possibly enjoy their dinner with everyone around them gawking as if they’ve never seen anyone famous before?”  
  
Donna watched as a couple of young girls cautiously approached Jude’s table to ask for an autograph.  He smiled and graciously signed for them.  Then she caught a couple of camera phones flash not-so-discreetly. After that four more fans began to move towards the table, cameras and pens in hand only to have Fredrick and Jude’s server shoo them back to their table.  
  
“Gosh.  I never thought about it.  Now, I feel guilty for watching him.  Everyone is staring, but he’s just ignoring it.  He’s carrying on as if he weren’t famous.”  
  
Benedict wiped his lips on his serviette and stared at Donna. “Well, what else is he supposed to do?  The man has a right to live his life just as any of us do.  It’s just a shame when things like this happen, but it comes with the job.”  
  
Donna caught herself sneaking a few covert glances at Jude Law every now and then.  Benedict on the other hand, didn’t seem to share her curiosity.    
  
“Jude ordered the same dish as me,” reported Donna. “I can’t tell what the others are having.”  
  
“Jolly good for them,” said Benedict rolling his eyes.  “A famous actor walks in, and you suddenly forget all about your boyfriend of only one hour,” he said sadly.  “I feel very inadequate when compared to him.”  
  
 _I shouldn’t keep staring, but I just wanted to see what they were eating.  Wait until Carly hears, she’ll be dying!  I wish I could take a photo of him and send it to her._  
  
Donna looked at Benedict under her eyes.  He had finished his dinner and was looking out at Saint Paul’s Cathedral, seemingly lost in thought.    
  
 _Should I take a photo? Everyone else is.  Why not?  He’s a public figure after all, and like Benedict said it does come with the job. I'll just do it before Benedict has time to notice._  
  
Donna snuck her cellphone out of her bag and turned it on.  She carefully tried to angle it so she wouldn’t be detected. However, just as she was about to snap the photo, Benedict’s hand suddenly came down gently on hers, thus preventing her from using the camera feature.  
  
“ _Please_ don’t take his photo, Donna.  It isn’t right,” Benedict said quietly.  
  
Fredrick and a busboy approached their table.  The busboy cleared away their plates, and Fredrick presented them with dessert menus.  He noticed Donna’s continued staring at the Law table.  
  
“Such a shame that people do this whenever he comes in,” said Fredrick referring to Jude Law.  “You would think he'd use the member's room for more privacy, but he prefers the atmosphere down here. We always offer to sit his party in the back corner, so he won’t be disturbed; but he likes a table with a view of Saint Paul’s.”  
  
“Well, he’s a better man than I am,” said Benedict.  “He’s been interrupted almost constantly since he came in, yet he handles it with grace and good humour.  That would drive me crackers.”  
  
Fredrick nodded.  “We do our best to discourage the fans from trying to interact with him.  The downside to fame, I suppose.  Anyway, what can I get you?  Coffee? Tea?”  
  
“I’m pretty full,” said Donna.  “I’ll take a bite of something if you want to share, Ben. You can pick.”  
  
“Yeah.  I’m in the mood for something light,” said Benedict, perusing the menu.  “I’ll have the mascarpone mousse with the coffee liqueur ice cream and the Dragon Pearls tea.”  
  
“I’ll try the Dragon Pearls tea, too,” said Donna as she stole another glance at Jude Law.     
  
Benedict sighed with annoyance.  “Donna, I’m going to give you some food for thought.  Not that this would _ever_ happen, but how would you feel if that happened to us?  If I suddenly had a hoard of fans watching our every move and following us around snapping sneaky photos of us eating dinner?”  
  
Donna was surprised at her immediate response. “I’d fucking hate it.  I’d feel like our privacy was being unjustly invaded.”  
  
Benedict raised an index finger and wagged it at her. “Ah, but it comes with being a celebrity.  Does that change things?”  
  
“No.  It would only make me more determined to protect my privacy. I would never want to live in the limelight like that.”  
  
Benedict raised his eyebrows at her.  “Well then?”  
  
“Point made and taken,” said Donna as a pang of guilt swept over her.

"If you still want that photo, just go over and at least have the decency to ask him first.  I'll wait here."

Donna shook her head as she returned her cellphone to her handbag and zipped it shut.

“Mr. Law deserves to enjoy his dinner in peace like everyone else.  I feel awful that I even considered sneaking a photo.”  
  
"Good. Lesson learnt, my Darling," said Benedict, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.  
  
 _Thank God,  Benedict isn’t famous like that, and we can come and go as we please._

 

  
  
Donna had invited Benedict up to her apartment after dinner so they could spend some more time together. They wound up having a heated make-out session on the white leather chaise lounge, which had become their favorite place to kiss and cuddle.     
  
They started as they usually did – with gentle, soft kisses and slow, deliberate caresses.  This time, the couple found themselves whispering in each others ears, expressing their love for each other. The tender words did much to fuel their passion.  Soon the slow sweet kisses turned to very deep and heated ones filled with unspoken longing and desire.    
  
Before long, their hands had begun to roam and explore each other’s bodies as they had other times.  Benedict gently palmed and massaged her full breasts, as she paid attention to his sensitive hair follicles.  Before long he was groaning with pleasure, and Donna felt the start of an erection pressing against her stomach. She reached down and carefully cupped his package, caressing it with her thumb through the denim.  Then she ran her middle and index fingers lightly up and down the length of his manhood, which was something she had only flirted with once or twice before.  She could feel him further stiffening under her touch.  
  
“I love these jeans on you...they hug your package just right.  I’ve been dying to touch you all day,” whispered Donna throatily.  
  
 _For fucks sake....she’s rubbing on my dick.  I can barely feel it, but what I can feel is incredible._  
  
“Christ, that feels good.  Maybe a little harder?  _Please_ ,” Benedict moaned as he squeezed  and kneaded her bottom through the linen dress.  
  
Donna felt him flick his tongue against her lips, looking for access to her mouth.  She parted her lips so their tongues could touch and swirl against each other.  
  
 _Things are really heating up tonight. Maybe I should suggest we continue in the bedroom. He’s obviously enjoying this as much as I am._  
  
Donna applied some additional pressure, which caused Benedict to buck his hips and grind against her hand.  She broke the kiss and noted that he was breathing hard.  
  
“Better?  Tell me what you want, Benedict,” she whispered in his ear, tongue playfully licking his earlobe.  
  
Her other hand gently tugged at his curls, causing him to sigh loudly with appreciation.  
  
 _Christ, if I feel any better, I’m going to come in my pants soon._    
  
“Oh, God.  Yes, _yesss_....that’s perfect,” Benedict said in a low, husky voice as both of his large, warm hands roamed up under her dress to caress the soft skin of her legs and thighs. “Is this okay?”  He paused to plant several soft kisses along her neck and jaw.  
  
“Yes,” Donna’s breath caught for a moment.  “It’s very okay.”  
  
 _The way I feel tonight, he can touch whatever he wants._  
  
“You have the softest skin, Donna....like velvet.  I love touching you.”  
  
 _Using body lotion everyday pays off, Donna.  I need to give him a little more encouragement because I can’t stand this maddening throbbing between my legs any longer._  
  
Donna boldly took his hand and guided it between her legs as her dress had hiked up around her hips from their moving against each other.  The crotch of her panties felt a little damp.  Benedict suddenly stopped before actually touching her.  
  
“Do you want me to touch you through your knickers?”  he asked hesitantly.  
  
 _Yes, yes, yes!!!  Do I have to send you a formal invitation?_  
  
“Yes,” Donna sighed with a touch of impatience.  “ _Now_!  Please, Ben...I want to feel your hands on me.”

 _Those enormous, warm hands of yours..and those long, slender fingers that I'm sure know just where to go and what to do to give me the most delicious orgasm I can imagine._  
  
“I want to make you feel good,” he whispered, kissing her jaw.  
  
“And feel free to use that naughty texting finger of yours.....where ever you'd like.”

 _Deep inside me would be preferable right now....oh, Lord, he is the most exciting man I've ever been with._  
  
Donna was rewarded with a deep chuckle in her ear; and heard him whisper, “Whatever you desire, Darling.”     
  
 _Oh God...I’ve been wanting to do this for so long. Maybe she might even let me touch underneath her knickers....take it easy, Benedict.  This is the most intimate you’ve both been.  Continue to be a gentleman. There’s no need to push it...it will happen soon enough._  
  
His hand began to gently stroke and rub her mound through what felt like satin and lace knickers.  Donna instantly pushed herself against his hand to gain friction.  
  
“OH YES!  That’s it...don’t you _dare_ stop what you’re doing.”  
  
 _Bloody hell,  there's a damp spot coming through her knickers.  I can’t believe I did that to her in such a short time.  She's as horny as I am._  
  
 _His hand feel so good on me.  Just like I imagined it would.  Maybe it’s time to dispense with the panties, but the friction from the material is exquisite._  
  
“Rub _harder_ , Benedict. _Faster_ ,” she groaned in his ear.  “I want you so much, I can’t stand it.”  
  
 _Jesus, I don’t remember the last time I was turned on like this.  Holy hell...I could just pick her up and go right to the bedroom and fuck my brains out._  
  
“Erm....I wouldn’t mind a little more of the harder and faster myself,” he said as he rearranged her hand on the bulge in his jeans.  “Ooooh, _YES_ ,  just like _that_.”  
  
The only sounds in the room during the next several minutes were of sloppy, wet kisses, punctuated with gasps and moans of pleasure.  Donna and Benedict both felt themselves on the brink of orgasm.  
  
“Are you close?” he panted.  
  
“Yes.... _verrrrryy_ close.  Sooooo.... soon...yes...soon...you?”  
  
“ _Fuck, yes_.  I......oh my fucking God....need some tissues or I’m going to have....a fucking...oh...oh...oh...mess in my pants.”

Donna pulled her hand away. 

"Do you want me to stop?"

Benedict quickly grabbed her hand and placed it back over himself.

" _FUCK NO_!"  
  
He gently squeezed and rubbed her mound faster, causing her to moan loudly.

“Oh, Ben!  This feels amazing....Oh, Ben...just a little faster...”

She reached around and squeezed his buttocks, which earned her a guttural groan of pleasure from him.  Then she focused her attention on bringing him to climax.  
  
Donna felt him squirm as he shoved a hand in his pocket and took out a handkerchief. He began to try and unbutton his jeans with one hand, while trying to bring Donna to climax with the other.  
  
 _Shit!  I’m gonna come...if she presses harder one more time, I’m gonna fucking come...I’ve got to get this motherfucking whore of a button undone._  
  
“Let me help you,” offered Donna, pushing herself against the palm of his large hand.  
  
 _Oh fuck, oh fuck...I need more friction!  He’s worried about the fucking button. I need to get that open for him so we can get back to business._  
  
“Benedict!  _Please_....I’m almost there...I can feel it...I’m on the fucking edge!”  
  
“I’ve got to open my fucking jeans,” he shuddered.  “Oh, shit...what a...Jesus...Christ.... feeling!”  
  
 _It’s amazing that a little pressure can go such a long way when you’re this horny_ , thought Benedict. _If we were naked, and she blew on me that would set me off._  
  
Donna suddenly became aware of someone knocking loudly on her door.  Their loving activity came to an abrupt halt.  
  
“Bloody fucking hell!  I was almost there,” roared Benedict, tossing the handkerchief on the floor in frustration as he sat up.

Donna sighed as she got up and straightened her dress.  “That makes two of us.  Who in the hell could it be at this hour?”

She looked Benedict over. His shirt was unbuttoned and wrinkled, not to mention his hair was messed. His face and neck had traces of her lipstick all over them.  
  
"I don't think you're ready to receive company," she observed dryly.  "You're wearing half my makeup," she started to giggle.

Donna put her shoes on and stomped across the room to the door, silently cursing whoever it was who dared to interrupt their love-making.  
  
“I’ll be in the loo,” said Benedict as he grabbed his shoes and stalked off down the hallway.  “Trying to...... calm down.”  
  
“ _No_!” Donna said sharply.  “I’ll get rid of whoever it is in a minute.  Just hold on....”  
  
“If I hold on, that might put an end to things very quickly. I’ll do what I can, but you’d better be quick,” replied Benedict with a wink.  
  
Donna looked at her reflection in the mirror.  Her lipstick was smeared, her hair tousled and her linen dress was wrinkled like a rag.  Through the peephole she could see a barefoot Andrew Scott, looking very handsome in his worn jeans and white short-sleeved T-shirt while holding a fairly large box.   She quickly opened the door.  
  
“Hi Andrew!”  Donna said, smoothing her tangled hair.  
  
“Hi Darlin’ I’ve got a special delivery for you all the way from New York,” said Andrew with a smile.  “I figured....”  He stopped speaking as he gazed at Donna’s disheveled condition.  “Did I interrupt anything?”  
  
 _Yes. Benedict and I were about to get each other off, and you came right before we did...didn’t.   Jeez. Nothing worse than trying to chat while wearing wet panties._  
  
“I took in this package for you.  Ralph got it mixed up with mine, so I told him I’d keep it until you came home.  There was no sense in sending it back down to the concierge only to have him bring it up again.  Looks like it’s from your parents.”  
  
Donna looked at the return address label and grinned.  She nodded.  
  
“Oh, yes!  It’s a care package from my parents.  They always send me things I can’t get here once a month,” she said, holding out her hands.  
  
“Oh, this is too bloody heavy for you to carry.  Let me bring it in,” Andrew said walking past her into the apartment.  “Where shall I put it?”

 _Just drop it and go, God damn it!_  
  
Donna automatically looked down the hallway and saw that Benedict was peeking out the bathroom door.  She motioned wildly at him to close it.  
  
 _Shut the damn door and stay in there, Benedict.  That man is so damn nosy!_  
  
“Did you just wave to someone?” asked Andrew with a raised eyebrow.  
  
“Um...no.  I was just fanning myself with my hand,” replied Donna. She raised her hand and demonstrated fanning herself.  “It’s a tad warm in here.”  
  
“Now that you mention it, you do look a bit flushed,” agreed Andrew.  “So, where shall I put this?”  
  
“How about putting it on the dining table,”  replied Donna.  “Then it will be easier to unpack.  
  
“Not a problem,” said Andrew as he put it down.  “So, how was the _Cabin Pressure_ recording today?  Did you have a good time then?”  
  
Donna cast an anxious glance down the hallway.  Benedict had remained inside the bathroom.  She heard the toilet flush, followed by water running and the sound of the vanity door slam.  
  
 _What in the fuck is he doing in the bathroom?  Doesn’t he realize we can hear him?_  
  
“Do you have company, Darlin’?”  
  
 _Jeez Louise!  I don’t want him to know Benedict and I have been going at it like two animals in heat._  
  
“Um...No. I thought I heard the toilet running. Sometimes when I flush it, the lift chain gets stuck and the water keeps running.”  
  
“Would you like me to take a look at it?  I’m pretty good when it comes to plumbing,” offered Andrew as he began to walk in the direction of the hallway. “My dad taught me quite a bit.  He can fix anything.”  
  
Donna stopped and cupped her hand around her ear.  
  
“Wait. I don’t hear it anymore.  Do you?”  
  
Andrew paused to listen.  “No. I don’t.”  
  
Donna laughed nervously.  “It does that – then it just stops on its own.”  
  
“Did you enjoy the show then?” asked Andrew.  “Everything go smoothly?”  
  
“It was so much fun! There was just one point when some rude people were arguing in the audience, and they had to stop recording.”  
  
“There’s nothing worse than being on stage and hearing people chattering in the audience or when their blasted mobiles ring.  It can be very distracting.”  
  
“I also found it very interesting to see how its done. I got to see two episodes, _Kuala Lumpur_ and _Limerick_.  Benedict is surprisingly good at comedy,” Donna said.  
  
“Did he introduce you to the rest of the cast?  Roger Allam and Stephanie Cole are fairly well-known here.  I worked with Roger once. Such a debonair gentleman.”  
  
“No.  There wasn’t time.  There was a technical glitch, so the recording ran late; and everyone had to leave as soon as it was over.  There was supposed to be a wrap dinner; but Benedict was telling me that John Finnemore had an unexpected wake to go to afterwards, so it was postponed.”  
  
Andrew nodded.  “I could swear I just heard water running in your loo.  Listen.  Don’t you hear it?”  
  
 _Damn you, Benedict!  He’s using the sink? What in the hell is he doing – washing his owl socks out?_  
  
Donna stood still and pretended to listen.  Then she walked down the hall and stood right outside the bathroom door.    
  
“No, Andrew.  I don’t hear the water running,” she said in a loud voice.  
  
The water stopped running immediately.  
  
“Stop making noise,” she hissed near the crack in the door.  “Just be quiet.”

 _I have a strong feeling she's not alone,_ thought Andrew.  _I bet it's Benedict in the loo, and he isn't dressed_.  
  
“So, Andrew, how was your barbecue?”    
  
“Well, at least it didn’t rain!  We had a grand time.  Did Benedict take you for dinner afterwards?”  
  
“Yeah.  We went to the Tate Modern’s Restaurant.”  
  
“They have great food there, in addition to one of the best views in London. I haven’t been in an age.  I need to make a note and go with Stephen one night.”  
  
 _Please go home, Andrew, and make a note.  I have a gorgeous, sexually aroused man in my bathroom, who was on the verge of a climax, which I want to give him very badly.  He’s going to lose that erection if you keep talking. With my luck it’s probably deflated to the size of a baby carrot by now.  And we won’t get into the fact that I was just about to enjoy my own long-awaited, and much anticipated climax._  
  
“We had a wonderful dinner. Oh, and we saw Jude Law there with his family!”  
  
“Really?  How did he look?”  
  
“Simply gorgeous.”  
  
“I have no doubt.  He was mesmerizing as Hamlet.  Couldn’t keep my eyes off him.  He’s a brilliant actor, and I’m looking forward to seeing him play Dr. Watson in the Sherlock Holmes movie come Christmastime. Did you get a photo or autograph?”  
  
“No.  Benedict brought it to my attention that it wouldn’t be right.  People kept trying to bother him the whole time he was there.  I have to say that he did take it in stride.”  
  
“What else could he do?  He either puts up with the attention or stays home and hides,” mused Andrew.  “Well, at least Benedict and I don’t have to worry about that.  We can go anywhere, ma chere,” he laughed.  
  
“C’est vrai, mon ami,” laughed Donna.    
  
Then Andrew smiled knowingly at her and winked.    
  
“Are you going to tell me who you have stashed away in the loo or shall I venture a guess?  I’m going to say he’s tall and slender with curly auburn hair.”  
  
Donna walked over to him and whispered, “Andrew, I hate to be rude; but you’re right. Benedict is here.”    
  
Andrew’s face lit up.  “Jolly good!  I’d love to say hello to him.  Hellooo Benedict!”  he called out.  
  
 _Shut up, Andrew.  With my luck, Benedict will come out for a nice chat and cup of tea._  
  
Donna put her fingertip over her mouth, signaling him to be quiet.  “We were in the middle of something when you knocked on the door, and we need to finish it before we lose our place.”  
  
Andrew looked at her with a frown, then his chocolate brown eyes widened.  
  
“Oh!  The penny drops – how dense of me not to realize.  I should have realized...I mean you never look _this_ bad,”  he giggled.  “I should have known there was some hanky panky going on.  Silly me!”  
  
 _Gee whiz!  Thank you for the compliment, Andrew.  I guess I do look like a mess._  
  
“I’ll just leave you two lovebirds alone to finish your....something. As you were then.”  


 

  
Benedict Cumberbatch sat on the lid of the toilet and waited for the all clear sign from Donna.  His erection had subsided, and now he was becoming painfully aware of a dull ache in his testicles.  
  
 _I can’t believe motherfucking Andrew Scott chooses now to deliver her package.  It could have waited until the morning.  And now he’s chatting with her like he has all night._  
  
Donna knocked on the door.  “He’s gone.  You can come out now.”  
  
“I thought he was going to ask you to describe each course we had,” said Benedict as he opened the door.

Donna was standing there with her hands on her hips and a scowl on her face.  
  
“What in the hell were you doing in here?  We could hear the water running and the toilet flushing!  Then the vanity door banging shut.”  
  
Benedict smirked.  “I would have thought the toilet flushing would have been obvious.  I had to take a wee.  I also make it a habit to wash my hands afterwards, hence the sound of running water.”  
  
“I never thought he’d leave!” Donna said in frustration, as she returned to the living room with Benedict on her heels.  She removed her shoes, flopped down on the chaise lounge and patted the seat.  “Now, come over here you gorgeous man and let’s pick up where we left off.”  
  
Benedict sighed and sat on the edge on the chaise lounge.  He grimaced at the ache in his balls.  “I’m afraid the mood has been broken.  The only thing I need right now is some aspirin.”  
  
“Oh, so that’s what you were looking for in the vanity!  Do you have a headache?”  
  
“Nope.  Think further south. I’ve got a mild case of blue balls.  Where do you keep it?”  
  
“In the kitchen,” said Donna as she got him a glass of water and some aspirin.  “You’re not the only one who’s frustrated.  I’m feeling some pelvic congestion myself.”  
  
Benedict put his arms around Donna and kissed her.  “There seems to be a conspiracy to keep us apart tonight.”  
  
“It doesn’t have to be that way,” she said softly.  “Why don’t you stay tonight?” suggested Donna, looking up into his eyes through her eyelashes.  “Then we can finish what we started.”  
  
“If we had continued as we were, there’s a good chance we would have wound up in bed.  I was starting to feel as if I were losing control.”  
  
Donna pouted at him. “And would that have been such a bad thing?”  
  
Benedict sat on one of the stools and rubbed his thigh.   He swallowed the aspirin and chased it with the water.  He frowned slightly before answering her.

“Yes and no.  Are you ready to have a physical relationship beyond what we’ve been doing, Donna?"  
  
Donna snorted.  “I thought that would have been obvious given how wet my panties must have felt to you.  Yes, Benedict.  I’m more than ready for us to have sex.  How do you feel about it?”  
  
“I’m not going to lie to you. I want to get laid in the worst way.  My sexual frustration level is at an all time high,” he laughed.    
  
“Then what’s stopping you?  Spend the night with me, and you won’t be frustrated any longer,” Donna said standing between his legs and pushing an errant curl off his forehead.  “Neither of us will."

"Stop trying to tempt me.....the way I feel, I may just give in."

"I’ve got a fresh box of condoms,” she added. “Ultra thin ones.”  
  
“I know.  I saw them in your bedside drawer the night you were off your face.”  
  
Donna looked up at him, face scarlet.    
  
 _Then that means he found my vibrator._  
  
“I....um....I guess you also saw my.....little... _toy_.”

 _I would not have called it 'little', but who am I to judge_ , thought Benedict with amusement.  
  
“We all masturbate, Donna.  I often enjoy a good wank.” Benedict cupped her chin in his hand.  “I think it’s wonderful that you have a healthy interest in sex and aren’t ashamed to pleasure yourself.  I find it very arousing...especially when I think about you touching yourself.”  
  
“I thought that’s what you were doing in the bathroom before.”  
  
“I considered it, but then I started to listen to your conversation and got caught up in it.”  
  
“You’re so.....curious.”  She hugged him and kissed the tip of his nose.  “Are you sure I can’t convince you to stay over?  We’ve got a few hours.”  
  
Benedict rested his chin on top of her head.  “I want our first time together to be special.”  
  
Donna took his hand in hers.  “If you come down that hallway with me, I promise to make things extra special for you...”    
  
He shook his head adamantly.  “I’d like for us to go somewhere romantic where we can be totally alone without interruptions from the outside world.  A place where we can completely relax and consummate our love by getting to know each other’s wants and desires and simply enjoy each other.”  
  
 _Bullshit, Benedict.  You were well on your way to nirvana when Andrew came knocking.  Another few minutes, and you’d be in my bed right now enjoying a post coital snack. There’s something else you’re not telling me._  
  
Donna folder her arms and stared at him.  “In other words, you’re not packed yet are you?”  
  
Benedict’s face reddened as he rubbed the back of his neck.  He gave a guilty laugh.  
  
“You got me! Nope.  I haven’t packed a blessed thing.  I didn’t have time this morning, because I slept late.  Seriously, Donna, if we were to have sex tonight, we’d just be rushing through it, so I could leave at a decent hour. Good, satisfying sex takes time...especially when it’s the first time you’re with someone.  I want to make love to you properly.  I want it to be memorable for both of us...in a good way.  It’s also been a bloody long and emotional day for me.  I don’t know about you; but frankly I’m knackered.”  
  
 _As much as I don't want to admit it, the man makes good and valid points.  I’m still thinking with my clit.  I need to stop acting like a horny teenager and approach this like an adult.  And the first step is to know how his health is before we get between the sheets._  
  
“You’re right, Benedict.  If we just jumped into bed, we’d wind up rushing and not enjoying it like we should.  Why don’t we check our schedules to set aside a long weekend to be together as soon as you get back?”  
  
“Now, that’s a brilliant idea,” he said kissing her on top of her head. "I know just the place.  It's in Cornwall, by the sea.  Very private and peaceful. I'm going to check into it while I'm away."

_Ask him, Donna.  it's very important to know how he is.  Your life may depend upon his answer.  You don't know what he's done or who he's been with in the past and what their sexual health history is._

Donna cleared her throat.  
  
“Ben, can I ask you a very personal question?”  
  
Benedict nodded.  “Yeah.  Of course.  Feel free to ask me anything at all.”  
  
“Have you been tested for STD’s?”  
  
“Yeah, and I’ve come up clean every time.  How about you?”  
  
“Same.  Would you mind if I asked you to get another test before we become intimate?”  
  
“Not at all.  I can stop by my friend, Mark’s office tomorrow morning.  He’s my doctor, and he’s tested me before.”  
  
“I’ll do the same while you’re gone,” said Donna. “Then we’ll both have peace of mind.”  
  
Benedict nodded.  “I want you to know that I’ve always practiced safe sex. That’s the one thing I’ve never been reckless about – even when I’ve had too much to drink. I’ve always managed to remember to wear a condom.  There’s too much at stake not to.”  
  
“That’s good to hear.”  
  
“I suppose I should thank my dad for drumming it into me to always take care whenever I was with someone.”  
  
 _Yeah, I bet he did.  He must have had plenty of opportunities to practice it before Wanda hit menopause._  
   
“Thank you for telling me. I also want to assure you that I’ve also been very careful,” said Donna.    
  
They both jumped as her computer seemed to come to life on the desk.  
  
“Shit.  I’ve got a Skype call.  It has to be my parents.  It’s still early in New York.  They’re probably checking to see if their package arrived intact. I’ll call them back tomorrow.”  
  
“No.  Please go ahead and take the call.  I’ve got to be going anyway.  I’ll email you the name of the inn I’ll be staying at.  I’ll have my laptop with me, so we can Skype.  I may be hard to reach when I’m out filming, so just leave a message on my mobile; and I’ll ring or text you back as soon as I can.”  
  
Donna nodded and answered the Skype with the camera turned off.  
  
“Hi!  I just got out of the shower, so give me a minute to throw on a robe.”  
  
“Don't rush, Muffin. We’ll call you back in a few minutes,” came her father’s voice.  “Grandpa should be home from his date by then, so you can talk with him, too.”  
  
“Okay!”  Donna cut the connection.

"Muffin?" Benedict asked with a cheeky grin.

"Stop smiling like that.  Didn't your parents ever have a pet name for you?"

"Yep, and they still use it.  Barrister Ben," he laughed.

"There are worse things than being called muffin you know," scoffed Donna with a toss of her head.

Benedict frowned and smiled with amusement.  "Hmmm...I can't seem to think of any."

"There sure are!  They call Carly sweet potato," snickered Donna. "I'd  much rather be a muffin."

Benedict started to laugh.  "Yeah.  That is worse. Jesus. Your parents are a hoot."

"They are many things, Benedict.  Hoot is not one of them."

"Donna, you really make them sound horrible sometimes.  I bet they are absolutely lovely, and I look forward to meeting them."

_Oh, poor unsuspecting Benedict.  As soon as I tell them about us, you're going to get your wish - and then some.  You will regret uttering those words._

“I’ll miss you, boyfriend.”  Donna smiled up at Benedict as they walked to the door.  “Take care of yourself and remember that I love you.”  
  
“I’ll never forget those words.” Benedict embraced her and kissed her hungrily.  “I’ll call you tomorrow once I’m settled in.  Love you, too, _Muffin_.  Sleep well.”

Donna playfully smacked his arm and shut the door behind him.  


  
  
  
Wanda Ventham stood in the doorway of her bedroom, brushing her teeth.  
  
“Brewwmah  floswar  doog  Bendick  fastaras  duey hopey?”  
  
Timothy looked up from the book he had been reading in bed. He frowned at his wife.  
  
“I’m afraid my Klingon is rusty, Commander.  Can you please repeat that in English?”  
  
“Brewwmah  floswar  doog  Bendick  fastaras  duey hopey?”  
  
Timothy shook his head. “I’m afraid I don’t understand Romulan either. Wanda, you look like a rabid poodle, foaming at the mouth.  You’re going to have to tell me whatever it is when you’re done.”  
  
The landline rang as she disappeared back into their bathroom.  Timothy looked at the caller ID.  
  
 _Oh, oh.  It’s Ben.  I wonder what’s up.  Maybe he has news on the Barbecoa girl._  
  
“Hello Ben! I thought you had a date with your special girl tonight.”  
  
 _“I did; and before you ask, it went fine.  Are you and Mum still up?”_  
  
 _No.  I’m sitting here in bed talking to you while I’m sleeping.  Bless him._  
  
Wanda walked back into their bedroom, unzipped her lavender and pink flowered robe and climbed into bed.  She opened the drawer to her bedside table and removed a tube of hand cream.  
  
“Yes. We’re still up.  Your mother was trying to teach me a new language, but I just wasn’t grasping it.”  
  
Wanda hit him over the head with a pillow.  “Smart arse!”  
  
 _“I’m on my way home, and would like to stop over before I leave tomorrow morning.  Things got complicated, so I can’t pop over like I originally intended tomorrow morning.”_  
  
 _Things always somehow manage to get complicated for him._  
  
Timothy covered the mouthpiece and looked at Wanda.  
  
“He wants to stop by.”  
  
“Now?”  
  
“Of course.  This is Benedict we’re talking about. He says he doesn’t have time to stop by tomorrow because – and I quote:  things got complicated.”  
  
Wanda adjusted her pillow and sat back with a smirk on her pretty face.  
  
“He has such a wonderful time management technique, bless him.”  
  
“He most assuredly hasn’t done laundry or packed yet,” chuckled Timothy.  
  
“That’s what I mean.”  
  
 _“Dad? Are you there?”_  
  
“I’m hanging on your every word.”  
  
 _“Somehow I get the impression that you’re not.”_  
  
 _The boy’s very perceptive._  
  
Wanda squeezed some of the lilac-scented cream on her hands and rubbed it in.  
  
“Yes!  Tell him to come right over.  I’ll make us some tea.”  
  
“We’ll be waiting, Ben.  Mum’s going to put the kettle on. Use your key.”  
  
“What do you think he wants?” asked Wanda, applying some cream to her elbows.  
  
“I don’t know if he wants _anything_ , Pet.  I think he just wants to spend a bit of time with us before he leaves.  Three weeks is a long time to be away. Now, what did you want to tell me?”  
  
“I was wondering about that bird he took to dinner. Perhaps that’s what he wants to talk about!” said Wanda with mounting excitement.  
  
“I put out a feeler, and all I got was a ‘it went fine’, so I didn’t push it and suggest you don’t either.”  
  
 _Even though I know you will as soon as you get an opportunity; and if not, you’ll just create one._  
  
All of a sudden they heard footsteps on the wooden floor in the hallway.  
  
“Bloody hell!  He must have been calling from the lift.”  
  
“I tend to agree. That was fast,” said Wanda as Benedict knocked lightly at their bedroom door.  
  
“It’s me.”  
  
 _As if it could be anyone else.  Bless him._  
  
“Come in, Ben.  No need to stand on ceremony,” said Timothy, putting down his book.  “I assure you nothing funny is going on.”  
  
 _This time,_ thought Benedict as he turned the knob on the door. _I’ve caught them indulging in ‘funny’ once too often, thank you._  
  
Benedict entered the bedroom and perched on the foot of their bed.  He looked very excited and happy.  
  
“You look like you’re going to burst,” mused Wanda.  “Might you have news for us?” she asked hopefully.  
  
She felt Timothy gently nudge her foot with his under the covers to be quiet.  
  
“Well, for starters I’ve been offered the lead role in that indie film, _Wreckers._ ”  
  
“What kind of an offer did they make you?” asked Timothy.  
  
“Decent enough.  I can pay off a bit of my mortgage with a little leftover to get my car fixed. I’ve also been offered some voice over work – a series of commercials for Pimms and a narration for a 6-episode documentary called _South Pacific_.”  
  
“Oh Ben!  That’s wonderful! exclaimed Wanda clapping her hands together. “I’m so proud of you.”  
  
Benedict laughed. “Oh, Mum.  I could tell you that I did my laundry and you’d be proud.”  
  
“Are you keeping up with it, Dear?  The last time I was over I couldn’t tell if you were storing your dirty laundry on your floor or in the wardrobe.”  
  
She felt Timothy gently nudge her foot again with his to be quiet.  
  
 _Bollocks! Lesson learned.  I guess I can pack the dirty stuff and do laundry once I get to the inn tomorrow...as long as they have a laundry room. I never thought to check if they did. I could put in a load while I sleep.  Yeah.  That’s probably the best idea – let the fucking laundry wash itself while I sleep.  Then when I get up, I’ll put it in the dryer._  
  
“We really enjoyed _Cabin Pressure_ this afternoon,” said Timothy, changing the subject.  “I can tell you’ve embraced the role – you seem much more comfortable as Martin this year.”  
  
“Yeah.  I am.  I have a blast doing it.  The scripts are a real treat.”  
  
 _Is that all?  He came here to tell us about his work?  Not that I'm not interested and chuffed as could be, but what about his date?_ thought Timothy as he exchanged glances with Wanda.  _I know she’s thinking the same thing._  
  
“How was your date?” asked Wanda finally.  
  
She felt Timothy not-so-gently nudge her foot once again with his to be quiet, and she jumped.  
  
“Stop that, Timothy!  That really hurt this time - for fucks sake!  I, for one, want to know what happened!”  
  
 _Christ!  They’re were busy playing footsie under the bloody covers all this time.  I need a drink._  
  
Benedict stretched and yawned.  “Delicious.  We had a corner table right in front of the window.  Oh, Mum, guess who was there?”  
  
Wanda shrugged.  “Someone I know?”  
  
“I doubt it.  Jude Law and his family. My date was very impressed with how handsome he was in person.”  
  
“Humph! Forgive me for saying this, Benedict.....”  
  
“Then don’t; and he won’t have to, Wanda,” snapped Timothy, patience wearing thin.  
  
 _I sense the potential for a row brewing.  My wife doesn’t know when to keep her gorgeous mouth shut._  
  
Unfortunately, Wanda would not be deterred by her husband’s warning.  
  
“...but she was already having dinner with a handsome actor…”  
  
Benedict’s face flushed as he rubbed his thigh.  
  
“Oh, Mum.  _Pleasssse_ stop.  I’m no where in Jude Law’s category...not even close.”

 _And I'm almost 33 fucking years old and just whined at my mother like I was five again._  
  
“....and should have only had eyes for you, not some celebrity whose already taken.  In my opinion...”  
  
“I don’t recall his asking for your opinion, Wanda,” said Timothy sharply.  
  
 _But I fear you’re going to tempt fate and give it anyway._  
  
“.....that was quite cheeky of her – whoever she is.”  
  
Benedict sighed and got to his feet.  “Your feelings have been duly noted, _Mother_ ,” he said sarcastically.  “I just came over here to share some good news and see you both before I left for filming and...Oh, screw it! What good does my preaching do?  None.  I’m going to have a nightcap.”  
  
With that he stomped out of the room and headed for the lounge.  
  
“Well done you,” said Timothy sarcastically, while patting Wanda on the shoulder as he climbed out of bed.  “I’m going to pour us all a small sherry.”  
  
Timothy found Benedict in the lounge, getting out three small cordial glasses from Wanda’s china cabinet in the dining area.    
  
“Fancy a sherry?” asked Timothy, as he headed into the kitchen.  
  
“Fine,” Benedict called after him.  “You know, I really didn’t come here to get Mum all worked up, Dad.  I came here to share some very happy news.”  
  
“And you did,” said Wanda from behind him. “We couldn’t be happier for you, Benedict.”  
  
 _Change the subject Benedict. Quickly before she starts again.  The film.  You saw her bags all packed and ready to go in the foyer. Actually, you almost tripped over them._  
  
Benedict toed off his trainers and sat on the couch, legs tucked under him.  
  
“What time are you leaving tomorrow for filming, Mum?”  
  
“The Acklands are picking me up at eight o’clock in their minivan.  Did Adam tell you that Alice and the baby are coming along, too?”  
  
“Yeah.  He did.  I believe he said Joss was also going with you.  At least you’ll have good company for the drive to Yorkshire.”  
  
“Your father and I feel terrible that we won’t be together for your birthday this year,” said Wanda as she sat beside him.  
  
“It’s fine, Mum.  I’ll be so busy with the shoot, I’ll probably forget what day it is.”  
  
“We’ll celebrate once we’re all home.  We can go to the Savoy for Sunday afternoon tea.  By the way, what did you say your date’s name was again?”  asked Wanda as she fiddled with the zipper pull on her robe.    
  
Benedict smiled knowingly at her.  “I didn’t.”  
  
 _You can trick Adam, but you cant trick me, Mum. I’ve had years of practice fielding your questions._  
  
Timothy came out of the kitchen with a small tray containing the glasses of sherry.  Benedict took one for himself and handed one to Wanda. Timothy took a seat in his favourite armchair and noticed that his son smiled gratefully at him.  
  
 _The Wanda Express must have continued her journey while I was in the kitchen._  
  
“To our very talented, son!” Timothy said raising his glass to Benedict.    
  
“May you continue to get job offers like you’ve been getting!” added Wanda.  
  
“Thank you,” said Benedict.  “I appreciate your advice and support more than you’ll ever know.”  
  
As Benedict sipped his drink, he noticed the computer screen flashing a montage of photos set as a screen saver.  
  
“That’s new, isn’t it?” he asked indicating the computer screen.  “The last time I was here, you were using photos from our Easter holiday in Greece.”  
  
Wanda and Timothy exchanged looks of pure panic.  
  
 _Fuck!  Tim forgot to shut down the bloody computer! Those are the pictures he took yesterday!  I can’t have Benedict get any closer or he’ll be suspicious, which will only lead to a cross examination by Barrister Ben._  
  
 _Christ on a crutch – why did I have to make a slideshow out of my photos?_ thought Timothy miserably.  _My punishment for trying to show off to Wanda that I, too, can be creative when it comes to the computer._  
  
Benedict stared as his parents both answered his question at the same time:  
  
“I thought I’d have a go at creating a screen saver out of some photos,” explained Timothy.  
  
“It’s a web cam feed,” said Wanda simply.  
  
Timothy and Wanda both glared at each other.  
  
 _Hells bells! I was going to handle this. Why did he feel the need to chime in?_  
  
 _Damn! I was going to handle this.  What was she thinking – a web cam!?_  
  
Benedict chuckled as he got to his feet and padded towards the computer.  
  
“Well, which is it?  It certainly can’t be both.”  
  
“Couldn’t you just stay quiet?” Wanda hissed at Timothy.  “Let me handle this.  You’re just going to cock it up.”  
  
Benedict turned.  “What is he going to cock up?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.  
  
 _Oh, Barrister Ben has come alive,_ thought Wanda miserably.  
  
“You misunderstood.  We were talking about changing the battery in the kitchen clock,” replied Wanda.  “Maybe you have wax in your ears.”  
  
 _Oh, no I didn’t, Mum.  I’ve got excellent hearing, and my ears are clean as could be._  
  
“Isn’t that Hampstead?” asked Benedict, moving still closer to the computer.  
  
Timothy and Wanda watched in horror as one of the shots of Emily and Benedict filled the screen.  
  
 _Why don’t these damn computers come with on/off remotes? I could really use one now_ , thought Wanda, getting off the couch to try and head off Benedict.  
  
“That looks like the entrance to the Heath....is that Emmy?”  
  
“Fancy a slice of banoffee pie, Ben?” asked Wanda quickly.  “Let’s go into the kitchen.  I’ll put the kettle on, so we can have a cuppa.”  
  
“Yes, jolly good idea.  Lets have some of your delicious pie.  I’m starving,” agreed Timothy nervously.  “I’ll put a candle on it, and we can have an early birthday celebration. I’ll get his gift.”  
  
 _Shit.  He’s not moving.  I’m going to have to take action_ , thought Wanda.  
  
“No thanks.  I’m not hungry,” replied Benedict as he came to stand in front of the computer.  “Why that’s the farmers market.  I recognize the Pasta stand....and that’s the Tomato Stall.......”  
  
Benedict froze as he recognized Donna obviously making a purchase at the stand.  
  
 _That’s Donna.  Wait until I tell her she’s famous on a web cam feed._  
  
“He recognizes Donna,” Timothy whispered urgently into Wanda’s ear.  
  
The next photo morphed into Donna on her knees at the Tomato Stall helping the vendor pick up tomatoes off the ground.  
  
 _What the fuck?  Donna’s the one who knocked over all the tomatoes that Emmy was telling me about.  If we ever go together, that motherfucking bag is staying home._  
  
“Ben, did I tell you that Aunt Amber mailed me a birthday gift for you?” asked Wanda.  
  
“No,” replied Benedict distractedly.  “That’s Hampstead High Street near the tube station.  Where did you find this web cam?”  He turned to gaze at Wanda suspiciously.  
  
Wanda rushed over to the computer to stand beside him.  She gently tugged at his sleeve in an attempt to guide him away.  
  
“It’s just a web cam the Borough of Camden has set up to encourage tourism to Hampstead– you know like the City of London has so all the tourists can see the London Eye in real time.”  
  
“I think it’s a brilliant idea,” added Timothy. “It really showcases all the hot spots of Hampstead and the Heath.”  
  
Wanda made eyes at her husband to shut up.  
  
“I’ll go get the gifts,” said Timothy.  However, he found himself rooted to the spot nervously watching the exchange between his wife and son.  
  
“I never heard of such a thing,” said Benedict skeptically.  “Now, that I think of it....”  
  
 _Oh, no.  He’s thinking,_ thought Timothy.  _He’s not stupid.  He realized they are photographs._  
  
The screen morphed into a photo of Benedict walking beside Denise Black.

 _The moment of truth!  Now maybe he'll say who she is,_ thought Wanda.  
  
“Bloody hell – that’s me and Dee! Wait a minute....I thought web cam feeds were supposed to be live.  This isn’t live....this was from _yesterday_.”  
  
“Of course it isn’t live!” scoffed Wanda, giving his sleeve another tug. “Its night time – you can’t see anything at night.  They must just run a loop of the previous day’s film until it gets light enough to see.”  
  
 _Dee!  Maybe he’ll tell us who she is now!_ thought Timothy. _Wanda needs to keep him from looking before he sees the photos I took of Donna and Adam Ackland, not to mention the ones of him with Donna._  
  
Suddenly, the screen went blank as the screen began to morph into the photo of Benedict with Donna across from the tube station.  Benedict automatically looked down at Wanda’s foot, which had just stepped on the power cord.  
  
“Hells bells!  I’m so clumsy some days!  Be a love and plug that back in, won’t you, Ben?”  
  
Mother and son’s ice blue eyes locked.  
  
 _And that’s all you’re going to see, Benedict. I’ll make sure to shift all those photos to my special password-protected file once you leave._  
  
 _She fucking cut the connection like she did that other time!  There was something she didn’t want me to see.  I was right.  It’s not a web cam feed.  Who in the hell was taking pictures of me yesterday?_  
  
Timothy cleared this throat.  “Apparently, someone at the Sun was writing an article about Hampstead, and a couple of the photos happened to have captured you off the web cam.  I liked the photos and decided to make a new screensaver and surprise your mother with it.”  
  
Wanda laughed nervously. “And what a nice surprise it is, Darling!  Well done you!”  
  
 _Well done, my Love!  Brilliant save!_   thought Wanda happily.  
  
 _That just rolled out of my mouth like gospel,_ thought Timothy.  _How easy it was to lie to him._  
  
Benedict narrowed his eyes as he carefully studied his father.    
  
 _Oh Dad.  You’re telling me a story, albeit a good one.  You and Mum were up to something.  You had to be the photographer because you were with me in the morning. I’m going to have to find a way to get on this computer when they’re both out after I get back._  
  
Benedict got down on his knees and plugged the power cord back in.  He heard Wanda’s voice from behind him as he got to his feet.  
  
“Ben, who’s this Dee you mentioned?  Was she your date tonight?”  
  
 _I love how my wife goes straight to the heart of the matter._  
  
“Mum!  How could you not recognize Dee?” asked Benedict in disbelief.  
  
Wanda and Timothy exchanged puzzled looks.  
  
“Well, I don’t or I wouldn’t have asked.”  
  
“My friend, Denise Black.  The woman I was car jacked with – from _The Ends of the Earth_.  You and Dad have met Dee several times.”  
  
 _He’s right!  That’s why she looked familiar. We just know her as Denise,_ thought Timothy. _All that fuss we made over a woman who turns out is a friend of his._  
  
 _Of course, Denise.  She’s older than he is and married with children.  They’re just friends_ , thought Wanda. _This also means she’s definitely not the Barbecoa bird._  
  
“Well, I best be going,” said Benedict putting his trainers back on. “Before I forget. I also have one other thing to share with you both.”  
  
“And what would that be?” asked Wanda disgustedly.  
  
 _He probably wants to tell us he’s getting a pet turtle or some such nonsense._  
  
“I’ve met someone, who I’ve fallen in love with. Tonight we agreed to be in a committed relationship. She’s the one I want to have a future with.  I am so over-the-moon about it, words fail me.”  
  
 _Words never fail him.  Never,_ thought Timothy.  _This could be actually refreshing except I want to know about this woman who captured my son’s heart._  
  
 _Now is not the time for words to fail you, Benedict.  You need to give us all the juicy details,_ thought Wanda with mounting excitement.  
  
“Well, that is the best news I’ve heard all day!” said Timothy with a smile.  I’m very happy for you, Benedict.”  
  
Wanda clapped her hands together -  Donna Saint James and the ad suddenly forgotten about.  She rushed over to hug Benedict and kissed him.  
  
“Oh, Benedict!  You could not have made me any happier!  Finally!”  
  
Benedict rubbed the back of his neck.  “Yeah, I could have.  I could have told you she was pregnant with my child.”  
  
“Everything in due course,” laughed Timothy.  “I’m also relieved that we will no longer have to hear about finding you a bird because you’ve found one.”  
  
 _Or run that Craigslist ad again. I don’t think I could go through that twice in one lifetime._  
  
“Tell us all about her, Benedict!  What’s her name?  What does she do?  What does she look like?” asked Wanda eagerly.  “I have so many questions!”  
  
Benedict hugged Wanda.  “I should call you Barrister Beryl.  Look, Mum, Dad.  It really is getting late, and I’ve got lots to do before I leave tomorrow.  I’d love nothing more than to sit down and tell you all about her, but I’m just too knackered right now.”  
  
“We’ve waited so long to hear these words from you, Benedict!  I need to hear _something_!” insisted Wanda, hands on hips.  
  
Timothy glowered at Benedict as he walked over to stand beside his wife.  
  
 _The little sod isn’t going to tell us anything?_  
  
“It’s not right to keep your mother wondering, Benedict – especially with her going off to film.”  
  
 _Not to mention me.  I want to know, too.  All of a sudden he found out how to work his mouth filter. I prefer when he just blurts everything out._  
  
Benedict Cumberbatch smiled at his parents.  He hugged and kissed them both.  
  
“Tell you what, Mum.  The first Sunday I get back, I’ll bring her around to lunch; so you and Dad can meet her.  You can have the lunch here or in Gloucestershire – even a restaurant if you’d prefer a more neutral setting.  I know you will both love her as much as I do.”  
  
Wanda was grinning from ear-to-ear. “Jolly good then!  I’ll let you know what I decide. I’ll invite Tracy to join us.  My God!  There is so much to plan – I hope three weeks is enough time.”  
  
Timothy grinned.  _Well done you, Benedict.  You’ve managed to distract her and give her something to occupy her time with. A vacation for my ears!_  
  
“Sounds good.  Just let me know where and what time,” said Benedict as he let himself out of the flat, set the alarm and locked the door behind him.  
  
“FINALLY!!!  HE’S GONE OUT AND GOT HIMSELF A BIRD!!!” shouted Wanda gleefully.  “FINALLY, FINALLY, FINALLY!!!!”  
  
Timothy laughed as he gathered up the empty cordial glasses.  
  
“I can’t begin to tell you how happy and relieved I am.  To think that we can now shelf our little project for good. I think this calls for another nightcap.”    
  
“I just wish he would have told us a little bit about her,” lamented Wanda as she followed Timothy into the kitchen.  “I hate when he gets cheeky like that, but once his mind is made up, there’s no changing it.”  
  
“He obviously wants to surprise us,” said Timothy as he refilled their glasses.  
  
“And surprise us he did,” agreed Wanda.  “I thought he wasn’t going to say anything more about the bird.  I hope we like her. Too bad he decided this was the time to turn on his bloody mouth filter.”  
  
“We waited this long, Pet.  We can wait three more weeks.”  
  
Wanda smiled.  “It’ll give me time to plan the lunch.  I think I should cook a beef roast here.  I want her to see where Benedict grew up.  It’s good to see him so happy again.”  
  
“I hate to put a damper on things, but Benedict realizes I was the one taking photos of him yesterday,” said Timothy.    
  
“Not to worry. He’ll forget all about it.  He’ll be all wrapped up in his work and his bird,” countered Wanda.    
  
“Don’t be so sure when it comes to Ben,” warned Timothy.  “He’s got a good memory and didn’t get a satisfactory answer from either of us.  I could see it in his eyes.  Mark my words, he’ll come snooping around when he gets a chance.  We need to cover our tracks before he returns.”  
  
“I suppose you’re right.  Don’t worry. I’ll put all the files pertaining to the project on a disc.  Then I’ll delete everything off the hard drive, including the recycle bin.  I’ll tuck the disc in our safe deposit box, and he’ll never be the wiser.”  
  
“Blimey! Why would you keep all that, Wanda?”  
  
“Well, it doesn’t hurt to save it.  Look at what happened with Olivia.  Together for twelve years, and they broke up.  I want to be ready just in case.”  
  
“Alright then, but you also need to make sure everything is wiped off the laptop in Gloucestershire.  I remember you sending yourself files there so you could work on the project.”  
  
“You’re right. Thanks for the reminder. I will the next time we go there.”  
  
“Benedict can never, _ever_ find out what you did.”  
  
“ _We_.  Timothy Carlton Cumberbatch.  _We_ did.  Stop trying to distance yourself from the project now that it’s been sorted.”  
  
Timothy leaned over and kissed Wanda on the lips.  
  
“Okay.  _We._ I shudder to think what would happen if he ever found out.”  
  
“He’s not going to.  I’ve got everything under control. Now, stop fretting.”  
  
“It’s been a paramount night.  Our son has landed some good work for decent money and announced that he’s in a relationship.  Not to mention you said those words I love to hear.  Life is good.”  
  
Wanda Ventham smiled serenely at her husband and raised her glass.  
  
“To our future grandchildren!”  
  
“To our future Daughter-in-Law found,” added Timothy Carlton with a grin.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I decided to make Donna the aggressor when it came to initiating sexy times with Benedict - for now. 
> 
> 2\. Klingon and Romulan refer to two of the alien races in the Star Trek universe. 
> 
> 3\. Jude Law played Hamlet at the Donmar Warehouse in 2009. For the sake of this story, his day off was Sunday. I have no idea what his schedule actually was. Everything else I wrote about him is purely fictional. 
> 
> 4\. I’m not entirely comfortable writing sexy scenes.
> 
> 5\. A big happy 75th Birthday to Timothy Carlton this weekend!


	60. Chapter 60

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’re going to have a time jump here and pretend that just about three weeks have past since Benedict went to Crestwood to film Murder is Easy. 
> 
> Benedict gets good news. Donna devises a plan to help Mark Gatiss. Plans are made by many to surprise Benedict on his birthday.

  
  
Benedict Cumberbatch stood in the center of the darkened Olivier stage in the National Theatre, dressed in medieval tights and tunic, the spotlight shining down on him as he recited the world famous lines:  
  
“To be, or not to be: that is the question:  
Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer  
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,  
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,  
And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;  
No more; and by a sleep to say we end  
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks  
That flesh is heir to, ’tis a consummation  
Devoutly to be wish’d. To die, to sleep;  
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there’s the rub;  
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come  
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,  
....”  
  
 ** _BRRRRRRRINNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGG_**  
 ** _BRRRRRRRINNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGG_**

  
“Cut!” yelled Michael Grandage from his seat in the audience.  “Who has their damn mobile ringer set on the loudest possible setting?  I know this is just a bloody dress rehearsal, but we need to get through it!”

  
**_BRRRRRRRINNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGG_ **  
**_BRRRRRRRINNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGG_**

Benedict Cumberbatch woke up to the sound of the phone ringing in his hotel room.  He groaned and turned over onto his stomach willing it to go to voice mail.    
  
 _To sleep: perchance to dream – I should be so fucking lucky! Who in the hell is ringing me?  The one morning I can finally sleep later, and some fuckwit wants to disturb my rest. They need to go away and go away quickly so I can get back to sleep._  
  
 ** _BRRRRRRRINNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGG_**  
 ** _BRRRRRRRINNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGG_**  
  
Benedict raised his head to glance at the beside clock.  It was noon. His head fell back onto the pillow, and he sighed deeply as the ringing finally ceased and switched over to voice mail.  
  
 _Ah.  Time for some more sweet sleep! Thought Benedict happily as he burrowed down into the covers.  What a pity we can’t just resume our dreams where we left off._  
  
Benedict had been dreaming that he had been offered to do _Hamlet_ at the National Theatre for an outrageous sum of money and was in the midst of a dress rehearsal when the hotel phone had roused him.  
  
 _I really want to do Hamlet one day when the time is right.  It’s such an extraordinary play.  Every actor’s dream and obviously mine,_ he smiled to himself as he adjusted the covers over his shoulders.     
  
As Benedict began to drift off, his mobile began to ring.  
  
 _For fucks sake!  I know it can’t be Donna because she had a meeting at the Tribune this morning and knew I wanted to sleep in.  Unless something’s wrong with Mum or Dad._  
  
Benedict reached over to the bedside table and fumbled for his mobile. Upon checking the caller ID, he saw it was his doctor and close friend, Mark Chaplin.    
  
“Hello,”  he mumbled, voice raspy from being asleep.  
  
 _“Hi Ben.  Did I wake you?”_  
  
“Ermmm…yeah. You did.  Was that you before on the room phone?”  
  
 _“Yes.  Getting hold of you these days is a trick of the first order.”_  
  
“It’s not a trick.  It’s a little thing called _work_ ,” snapped Benedict. “And today I have a late call, so I thought I’d sleep in....at least I was until you called.”  
  
 _“Jesus, nothing changes. What a comfort it is to hear that you’re still a right bastard when you first wake up. You were always such a pain in the arse when we roomed together at Harrow…no lights allowed on, no noise....no loud chewing or slurping - not that I ever did any of that mind you.”_  
  
“I’m very grumpy when I don’t get a full eight hours.”  
  
 _“Don’t I know.  Now, stop being so fucking stropy with me, Cumberbatch!  I’m returning your calls.  Anyway, it’s about time you were up, Mate.  I just got back your blood work and thought you might like the results before I break for lunch.  Unless you prefer that I ring off; so we can continue playing our game of phone tag.”_  
  
Benedict sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes.  Getting test results always made his nervous, and he felt his heartbeat immediately begin to speed up.  He rubbed the back of his neck.  
  
“What in the hell took so long this time, Mark?  You usually get them back in a week or less! I’ve been on motherfucking pins and needles waiting for these results!”  
  
 _“There was one test that I took, which takes a little longer.  Then one of my newer office assistants – who is no longer with me –  kept taking the blood work results off the fax and filing them without showing them to me. She wrongly assumed I was also getting a soft copy via my email, therefore was filing the hard copies!  I scanned and emailed them to you a few minutes ago.”_  
  
Benedict bit his thumb and took a deep breath.  “Am I okay?”  
  
 _“You’re absolutely fine.  Feel free to fuck your brains out without a condom if you fancy – as long as Donna is also disease-free.”_  
  
“Thanks, Mark, I really appreciate it!” sighed Benedict with obvious relief. “I was really starting to get a bit worried when I didn’t hear back from you.”  
  
 _“However, as your doctor, allow me to remind you to keep using appropriate protection.”_  
  
“Yes, Mum,” Benedict said sarcastically.  “As far as I’m concerned, Donna’s going to be my life partner, so hopefully we can fore go the condom. It’s been an age since I’ve shagged without one.  I'm not sure I remember what it feels like.”  
  
 _“Just make sure to discuss birth control with her before you do anything, you randy git.”_  
  
“You sound like a cross between a doctor and my mother.  That’s a bad combination,” teased Benedict.  
  
 _“Sod off, Ben.  I am a doctor – your doctor. You don’t want her to get knocked up on the first.... outing, do you?”_  
  
“Well, _I_ wouldn’t mind to be completely honest with you.”  
  
 _“Bloody hell.  I forgot how damn broody you are.  Maybe Donna would mind.  Hey, hang on for a minute.  Julie just came in.”_  
  
Benedict heard muffled talking. Juliette Evans was Mark’s fiancée and partner in their private practice.  While he specialized in internal medicine, her specialty was obstetrics and gynecology.    
  
 _“Julie just asked if you’re bringing Donna to our wedding.  Your RSVP was originally for one, but being you’re in a relationship now she needs to come.”_  
  
 _I’m in a relationship…..how very lovely that sounds!   I can’t wait to show her off to everyone there._  
  
“Tell Julie I fully intend to bring Donna, so she can change my RSVP to two.”  
  
Benedict could hear Mark cover the mouthpiece and repeat his words to Julie, who responded in the background.  
  
 _“Julie said you should clear it with Donna first.  Never speak for your significant other without her permission,”_ said Mark.  
   
 _I have a significant other again.  I love the sound of that, too!_ thought Benedict happily.  
  
 _“We also wanted to wish you an early happy birthday...hang on a minute, Ben."_

Benedict could hear Mark and Julie talking in the background, while Mark apparently held his hand over the mouthpiece.

_"Sorry about that.  Julie just reminded me to ask you about getting together for dinner as soon as you get back. You know it would be nice if Julie and I got to actually meet Donna prior to the wedding. I know what a workaholic you are."_

"I'll try and set up something as soon as I get home.  And just for the record, I'm not a fucking workaholic, Mark!" insisted Benedict adamantly.  "I've just had a lot of roles come my way."

_"When did you last go on holiday?"_

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck. "Erm...not that long ago....I...erm...oh, yes, I was in Greece for Easter weekend."

_"Okay.  That was what - two or three days at the most? And prior to that?"_

_Jesus.  He's being a pain in the arse.  I'm not a workaholic!_

"I was off during that little Judeo-Christian holiday that we're so fond of celebrating - Christmas. I didn't work Christmas Eve, Christmas Day or Boxing Day."

_"That makes three days in December. You really need to take a proper holiday, Ben. It's mid-July and you've been just about working non-stop. A couple of days isn't going to recharge your batteries."_

"That doesn't make me a workaholic, Mark.  It makes me a _working_ actor.  I have to take the work while I can!"

_"I suppose you have a point, but you still need to get enough rest. Winding up on a drip in hospital isn't going to land you many jobs."_

"Okay.  Fine.  Actually, I am trying to carve out some time for a long weekend."

_"Better, but not perfect."_

_"_ Well, it's the best I can do for now. So, what were we talking about before we got on the topic of whether or not I'm a workaholic?"

_"When we're going to meet Donna.  It's as if you're keeping her hidden, Ben. You've been dating her for months yet haven't taken the time to introduce her to your closest friends.  Dennis has yet to meet her or David."  
_

Benedict sighed.  "It's not that I'm keeping her hidden, Mark.  I just wanted to be absolutely sure about the relationship before introducing her to everyone. Adam and Alice haven't even met Donna yet - between everyone's work schedules and their new baby, it's been murder trying to come up with a date to get together."

_"Julie suggested the four of us try that new Indian restaurant in Soho that everyone's talking about."_

"I'll make sure to discuss it with Donna and get back to you. Promise."

_I’m part of a couple again!  Now that they all know, everyone is issuing invites to us – Christ! Donna and I are an ‘us’.  I never realized how much I longed to be part of a couple again until now.  It’s just too damn good to be true._

_"How are you doing with the fags?"_

"You'll be happy to hear that I still haven't had one....not even a drag.  I'm just worried about the _Turning Point_ because I have to smoke for the role.  And then there's Donna.  She's allergic to cigarette smoke.  It's something I've been meaning to discuss with her."

_"I't's simple, Mate.  Stay away from them.  Use herbal cigarettes for the play...."_

_"_ Have you ever had one of those blasted things?" interrupted Benedict. "They taste like utter shit! Nothing can replace the taste of real tobacco."

_"Glad I never started,"_ said  Mark. " _Give the herbal fags another try - for your sake as well as for Donna's."_

“I will, Mark.  Anyway, hate to rush you, but I've got to get ready.  I’ll ring you once I'm back in London.”

  
  
  
  
  
“When are you going to tell Mom and Dad about Benedict?” Carly Cipriano asked Donna as she re-arranged the sandwiches that were left over from the lunch rush in the refrigerated case.  
  
“Soon.  I’m working up the courage,” replied Donna as she finished off her bowl of Italian Wedding soup.  “Mmm…you know our spin on this just might be better than Nona’s  I really like not cooking the vegetables so much and using orzo rather than the pastina stars.”  
  
“Good.  Then you can tell Nona when you next talk to her,” laughed Carly.  “She would not be pleased to hear that. She considers her recipes sacred and not to be tinkered with.”  
  
“I think you just want to be her favorite granddaughter,” smirked Donna.  “So she’ll leave her cameo broach to you.”  
  
“Stop that, Donna!  We sure do have a lot of sandwiches left over.  I’ll call the food bank to come pick up all the leftovers before we close up.”  
  
“It’s just a summer slowdown,” said Donna. “Not a lot of workers around – the square has been pretty quiet.  Thank God for the tourists!”  
  
“I hope you’re right.  I’m getting a bit stir crazy.  I spoke with Jamie Oliver this morning, and he’s not quite ready to discuss the interior of his new place yet.  I can’t wait to start on it, but in the meantime...”  
  
Carly let her words trail off, closed the case and poured herself a cup of hazelnut coffee.  
  
“I don’t like to butt into your life, Donna…”  she began as she added milk and sugar to her cup.  
  
“I hear a ‘but’ coming.  Go ahead, Curly Carly, say your piece.”  
  
“You have been dating Benedict since March.  It’s mid-July, and you’re in a serious relationship with him.  Don’t you think Mom and Dad deserve to know that you’ve found the right guy?”  
  
“No."

"Donna! You know I'm right about this!"

"You know what will happen.”  
  
Carly drank some coffee and sat on the high stool they kept behind the counter.

“Donna, you’re going to have to tell them sooner or later.  I recommend getting it over with.”  
  
“Well, I’m going to wait until I absolutely have to.”  
  
“I really think they’re going to like Benedict.”  
  
“You said that about Danny and Michael.  They hated them both.”  
  
“Michael was a struggling actor and Danny...well, at the time he was just a performer at Disney.”  
  
“And now look at them!  Michael's on Broadway - he's a dancer in _Chicago_!  And Danny's worked his way up to Vice President of Live Entertainment at Walt Disney World!”  
  
Carly smiled widely at her sister.  “And then there was that obnoxious little actor, Jonathan Central – like the park – as he would say.”

“Mom made him cry, and Daddy tossed him out of the house before dessert was even served!”  
  
“Granted. Jonathan was a lazy, conceited – albeit handsome – jerk.”  
  
Donna sighed.  “Unfortunately, all true.”

"You always were attracted to men with careers in the performing arts," smirked Carly.

"Roy was a lawyer."  
  
“And they loved Roy like a second son.”  
  
Donna glared at Carly.  “Gee, I wonder why that was?  Let’s see....”  
  
“Okay!  Okay!  I’ll stop now.....”  
  
“...Oh yes.  I think it had something to do with Roy being Mom’s protege at the law firm. Not to mention his parents own one of the most expensive and popular Japanese restaurants in Manhattan. I may be wrong though.”  
  
Carly met Donna’s glare, and threw up her hands in mock surrender.  
  
“You win.  Mom’s still grooming Roy to be a junior partner, you know.  Kenny told me.   Had you not broken the engagement, I bet she would have made him a senior partner.”  
  
“Perhaps.  You never know with Mom though.  Anyway, I will tell them about Benedict when the time is right.”  
  
Donna walked over to the dessert display and helped herself to a white chocolate chunk cookie with macadamia nuts.  She took a bite only to spit it out in her napkin.  
  
“Not good?” asked Carly with concern as she slid off the stool and came around the counter to join Donna. “Those were our biggest sellers today!”  
  
“I sure as hell hope the first batch wasn’t like this!  I think Karl under baked this batch a bit.  They are supposed to be soft and chewy, and these are more like gummy, raw cookie dough.  Did you taste one?”  
  
Carly broke open another cookie and took a bite.  She looked at Donna in horror as she spit it out.  
  
“Shit.  They needed to cook longer.  We need to toss these out before someone wants to buy them.”  
  
Both women looked up as the door to the shop opened and in walked an anxious-looking Mark Gatiss, wearing faded jeans and a navy blue T-shirt with a backpack over his left shoulder.    
  
“Hi Mark, it’s nowhere near four o’clock. Did your filming end early today?” asked Carly.  
  
“Good afternoon lovely ladies!  I hope there are some sandwiches left over from today’s lunch.  We’re  in the middle of a shoot for _Dr. Who_ in a street just behind Saint Paul’s, and our rubbish caterer had the bollocks not to show up.  I've got a starving cast and crew of twenty-five people who are right cross about the situation.  Can you help me out?  I’ll take whatever you have left.”  
  
“You’re in luck today,” said Donna.  “A lot of people must be taking their summer vacations because business has been light all week.  I think we can accommodate you. What do you think, Carly?”  
  
Carly did a quick estimate of what she had left in the display case.  “We've only got gazpacho and beef noodle left out of the soups.  Let me go check in the back to see how many sandwiches and sides are left.   I know we didn't put everything out front today.  Donna, can you check the desserts while I do that?”  
  
Mark’s mobile began to ring.  “Hello. Mark Gatiss. Yes!  I believe we’re in luck.  I’m just waiting to hear if there’s enough to feed everyone.  If not, I’ll walk over to Paul’s to supplement.”

_Oh no you don't, Mark!   You're not going over to our competition!  I can make up grilled cheddar cheese sandwiches with bacon and sliced apples if I have to!_   thought Donna with determination.  _I'll do whatever it takes to get all his business._  
  
Donna continued checking the desserts in the window display.  She looked up when Mark finished his call.  
  
“There are only cookies left. Just enough for everyone to have a couple,” she said.  “There might be another tray of tiramisu in the back.”  
  
“Good news!” said Carly as she came through the door from the back and gathered up the sandwiches from the refrigerated case.  “We can cover you, plus there's a whole tray of tiramisu for dessert.  It’ll take us about ten minutes to pack this all up for you.”

_That's a relief!  Grilled cheese would have taken too long to make!_   thought Donna.  
  
“That’s just splendid!” said Mark with a huge smile.  “I really appreciate it.”  
  
Donna began to place the white chocolate chunk cookies in a paper bag.  Mark walked over to inspect the cookies.  
  
“Those look luscious.  What kind are they?”  
  
“These aren't for sale, Mark. They were supposed to be white chocolate macadamia nut cookies. They were under baked, so I’m tossing them.”  
  
“I’m a tart for chocolate chip biscuit dough anything.  Would you let me taste one so I can be the judge?”  
  
Donna hesitated and offered the bag to the tall, ginger-haired man.  Mark took a bite and rolled his eyes.  
  
“Delicious!  Nice and gooey! Just how I like them.  My partner, Ian, bless him, always over-bakes biscuits as he prefers them crispy. I won’t allow you to bin these. Please add them to our order. I insist.”  
  
“Okay,” said Donna.  “The customer is always right."

Mark gazed out at Paternoster Square.  "It is very quiet, isn't it?  We haven't had many interruptions during filming this week, which is welcome," he mused.  "However, not good for your business, I suppose."

"You know, Mark, if I were you; I would have fired that caterer.  A caterer must be dependable.”  
  
“Oh, I agree with you fully, Donna. I’d sack them if I could, but that’s for the producer to do.  I really wish we had someone better. We get a lot of complaints from the crew about poorly prepared food and lack of variety.”  
  
 _Hmmmm...I bet Carly and I could run circles around that caterer if we had a chance.  As a matter of fact, I know we could do a better job.  We’re not ‘creative’ caterers for nothing!_  
  
“Mark, I just had an idea that I’d like to run past you!” exclaimed Donna excitedly. “We already do small scale catering, as you know.  What if we were looking to branch out and take on a larger job - like your show?  Would you consider asking your producer to give us a chance?  I’d do it myself, but I don’t know him.”  
  
Mark scratched his chin as he considered her words.  “That’s actually an interesting idea and would be the perfect solution.  However, we’re a much larger group than what you’re used to. My immediate question would be: Could you handle it?”  
  
 _Sure we could.  How many people could there be to film one show?_  
  
“Exactly how big is the crew?”  
  
Mark paused to think.  “Anywhere from fifteen to forty, depending on the day and what’s involved.  Then there’s always the actors and paid extras.”  
  
 _Shit! That’s a lot of people. Who knew it took so many people to film a TV show? I’m sure we could handle it though.  It just involves making a little extra of everything._  
  
“We could easily handle that,” said Donna with confidence.  “We’ll make up a sample menu for him to look at and give him a quote.”  
  
 _Carly is going to be so happy if I can pull this off.  She hasn't done a restaurant interior in over a month and is getting antsy.  This will give her something to do while she waits for the go-ahead from Jamie Oliver.  Not to mention we can always use the extra money._  
  
“I really like that idea,” said Mark.  “Please do and I’ll be happy to give it to him.”  
  
“Who should I make the proposal out to?”  
  
“Steven Moffat.  He’s the Show runner and Executive Producer.”  
  
Carly came out from the back looking very pleased.  
  
“I’m sorry we only had time to make up no-frills platters, but we’ve got enough food to keep everyone happy.  Karl is going to put it in the delivery van out back and drive it right over to your location.”  
  
“That’s brilliant!” said Mark as he handed Donna his credit card.  “I’m really looking forward to receiving your quote.”  
  
“What quote?” asked Carly as she gazed at Mark, then Donna.  She felt Donna nudge her foot, which meant 'be quiet'.  
  
 _What in the hell is Donna up to?  Is Mark having a party that he needs catering for? She wouldn’t nudge my foot for something like that.  I really hope it’s not one of Donna’s wacky schemes._  
  
“Give me a couple of days to prepare it. Enjoy your lunch!” said Donna with a smile as Mark left the store.  
  
Carly closed and locked the door behind Mark and flipped the ‘Open’ sign to read ‘Closed’.  She regarded her sister suspiciously as she folded her arms across her chest and leaned back against the door.  
  
“Now, how about telling me what this quote is for that you’re going to give Mark?” asked Carly.  “What did you do, Donna?”  
  
“He was complaining about the caterer they use for _Dr. Who_ , so I said if that were me, I’d fire them.  He agreed with me, but said he didn’t have the authority to do that.  Then it came to me that we could do the catering for his show.”  
  
“Donna! Are you nuts? We’re not big enough to cater a TV show!  We don’t know the first thing about catering a show like that everyday for several months.”  
  
“What happened to your love of a good challenge?”  
  
“When I say that, I’m talking about designing the interior of a restaurant – that’s a challenge.  Catering a TV show is not a challenge I want – it’s an awful lot of hard work, time and money.  If we're lucky, we'll break even or make a small profit at best.”  
  
“Stop being so pessimistic, Curly Carly!  We can learn,” scoffed Donna.  “What could be so difficult?  We just make some extra food everyday.  Anyway, you’ve been complaining that you have all this free time.”  
  
Carly shook her head.  “What can be so difficult?  You obviously haven’t thought this through, Donna. They may have a lot more restrictions and needs than our usual customers.  Our large catering jobs consist of once or twice a week for local businesses.  The bank and law office are our biggest clients at twenty people each. The rest are smaller jobs that we can easily handle.”  
  
“Carly, this is a great way to make extra money without expending a lot of effort.  We already have a great staff in place...”  
  
“Whoa hoa Donna! Forgive me; but you have no idea what you’re talking about.  Catering a TV show isn’t just an extra kettle of soup and a couple of platters of assorted sandwiches every day – these people sometimes have three meals a day catered in addition to snacks.  Not to mention it’s not just once a week.  This is everyday for the length of the shoot, which can last months. We’d have to hire more staff. And what do I do when Jamie Oliver tells me its time to start designing for him or if I get hired to design another restaurant interior in the interim?  That takes up a lot of my time.  And what about your job at the Tribune? Good frigging grief!  This is a sure recipe for disaster!  I wish you had asked me first, Donna!”  
  
Donna sighed.  “Calm down, Carly. I guess I don’t have to make up a proposal.  I’ll just tell Mark you weren’t on board with it the next time he comes in.  It’s a shame – I bet we could make an awful lot of money doing that. I figured we could easily charge them double, which would turn us a very handsome profit.”

"Is that after expenses?"

"Yes! I'm sure it would be."

"Oh, for God's sake, Donna!  You need to sit down and do the actual calculations before you start spouting off proclamations like that!"

Just then Donna felt her cellphone vibrate in her pocket.  There was a text from Benedict:

  
  
**Remember me?  B**

**No.  Who are you?  D**

**The man who loves you.  B**

**Oh, that man.  What was your name again? Benny something?  D**

**Very funny. And don't ever call me Benny if you wish to live.  B**

**Wait!  It's Benjy - right?  D**

**Are you busy?  B**  
  
 **Yeah. Busy getting into trouble.  :-(   D**  
  
 **What did you do now?  B**  
  
 **It’s a long story. Let’s just say I’m not Carly’s favorite person right now.  D**  
  
 **Do you have time for a quick Skype call before I have to leave the inn?  B**  
  
 **Give me a minute to set it up in the office.  I’m at Carldonn. D xoxo**  
  
 **I’ll be here for another twenty minutes or so.  Bx**

  
  
Donna glanced at her sister, who had begun to clean the display case.  
  
“That was Benedict.  He has a few minutes to actually talk this time,” said Donna.  “I’ll be back to help you clean up.”  
  
Carly tossed back her mane of blonde curls and huffed.    
  
“Take your time.  I need to work off some steam.”

  
  
  
  
Benedict stretched out on the bed and placed his laptop beside him while he sipped from his bottle of water.  He opened his script and began to read over his first scene of the day.  
  
 _I hope she hurries.  I don’t have much time left.  I should have texted her before I got in that tub....but it was oh, sooo relaxing.  If I ever redo my flat, I’m putting in a soaking tub big enough for two._  
  
The Skype chime showed that ‘BellaDonna’ had just signed on.  Benedict leaned over to click on the icon and suddenly Donna’s face filled his screen.    
  
“Hello there,” he said in his deep, silky voice. “You’re looking gorgeous as always.”  
  
“Hi!  It’s so good to actually see your face!  I hate that we keep missing each other. I was asleep last night by the time you called, and this morning I know I wasn’t supposed to call because you wanted to sleep late. Is it always like this when you’re on location?”  
  
Benedict put down the script and raked his hands through his hair.  
  
“Being an actor means rarely working regular hours. In other words, a crap social life, odd eating habits and weird sleep schedules whenever I’m working. It doesn’t matter if I’m home or away.”  
  
“Aren’t you dressed yet?  You’re still wearing a robe.”  
  
Benedict smiled at her.  “I was in the bath. This inn has the most marvelous soaking tub…it is just heaven. It will only take me a few minutes to get my clothes on.”  
  
Donna’s eyes traveled up and down his body as far as the camera would allow.  His skin still looked pink from soaking in the hot water.  
  
“Are you naked under that robe?”  
  
“Naked as the day I was born,” he said saucily, winking at her. “Care for proof?”  
  
Donna’s eyes grew wide like saucers.  
  
 _YES!  YES!  YES!_  
  
“Since you offered...” she said nonchalantly, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. “Please do.”  
  
Benedict wagged his finger at her. “Oh, you naughty, naughty girl.”  
  
“And you accuse me of being a cock tease!  You’re a clit tease, Benedict.”  
  
Donna was starting to feel a bit aroused as the sound of his deep chuckle filled her ears.  She watched as he toyed with the sash of his robe and flashed her a glimpse of his bare thigh.  He smiled at her seductively.  
  
“Damn you and that evil sexy laugh of yours, Benedict!”  
  
“Hmmm...clitoris tease.  That rolls right off the tongue.  Now, that’s one I haven’t heard before.  I have to admit that no one has _ever_ called me that, but I am really looking forward to teasing _yours_ \- literally.”  
  
“That day can’t come soon enough,” said Donna with a sigh.  “Speaking of which, I have something to show you that I think you’ll find of interest!”  
  
 _For fucks sake!  Does this mean she wants to have Skype sex? I don't have much time...but in my condition I probably wouldn't need that much time,_ thought Benedict as his penis began to stir at the thought.  
  
“Really?  I’m more than ready!” He rubbed his hands together in anticipation. “I’ve only got a few minutes though.”  
  
Donna retrieved her handbag from the desk drawer and removed a plain, white envelope.  
  
 _Oh, fuck me now!  Maybe she took nude photos of herself to show me._  
  
Donna made a great ceremony of opening the envelope and unfolding a sheet of paper.    
  
 _Okay.  No photos.  Maybe a kinky drawing?  That’ll do for starters._  
  
“Look!”    
  
Donna held the paper up to the camera, so Benedict could see it.  
  
He looked at the paper and squinted.  
  
 _It’s type written whatever it is...perhaps she wrote me a erotic poem!  No. It looks more like a form of some kind. Oh, crumpets._  
  
“I’m having trouble seeing what it is, Donna.  Could you read it to me?”  
  
“It’s the results of my blood work.  I wanted you to know that I don’t have any STD’s.  I’m one hundred percent fine and cleared to be as intimate as I want.”  
  
“Brilliant! That’s just fantastic!” Benedict exclaimed as he leaned over to type on his keyboard.  “I just emailed you mine.  I’m fine, too.”  
  
Donna smiled at him.  “I’ll look at it when I get home.  Thank you for doing that for me.”  
  
“ _We_ did it for _us_.  For our peace of mind.  Now, all we need to do is pick a weekend when I get back for our holiday.”  He waggled his eyebrows at her.  
  
“I already have something in mind that I think you’ll like.  We’ll discuss it when you get home.”  
  
Benedict’s mobile began to chime.  
  
“Shit, it’s my alarm.  I have to get dressed and head down to the lobby.  The van that takes us to base will be here soon.”    
  
With that Benedict scooted to the edge of the bed and untied the robe.      
  
“Do you mind if I dress in front of you,” he asked coyly as he looked over his shoulder. “That way we can still chat.”  
  
“Please do,” grinned Donna.  “I don’t mind, if you don’t mind.”  
  
“I’m used to communal dressing rooms,” Benedict said as he leaned over to reposition the laptop on the bed.  Donna was treated to a flash of ginger pubic hair and his lower abdomen.    
  
“Angle the camera just a little lower,” instructed Donna with a grin on her face.  “And hold it there.”  
  
“Donna, that’s too low.  All you’ll be able to see are my bits.”  
  
Yes, and that would suit me just fine.  
  
“Okay.  There.  Can you see me now?”  
  
Donna watched as his face came into focus on the screen.  She could see Benedict from the waist up.  
  
“Not as much of you as I’d like,” she muttered disappointedly.    
  
Donna caught a slightly smug smile on Benedict’s face as he crossed the small room and appeared to be rummaging around in a suitcase.  Then he went to the dresser and removed some items from the drawer.    
  
“I don’t remember if I told you about my friend, Mark Chaplin,” Benedict said. “We went to Harrow together, and he’s also my doctor.”  
  
“Yes.  He’s the one who’s getting married, and asked you to be a groomsman.”  
  
 _See, Benedict, I do listen to you._  
  
Donna watched as he sat on the edge of the bed and began to put on his underwear and socks.  
  
“What are you putting on?” she asked.  
  
“Aren’t you the curious one!” Benedict joked.  “My pants and socks if you must know.”  
  
“I must know.”  
  
“You’re a very nosy girl.”  
  
“And you’re not?”  
  
“I’ve been male ever since I can remember,” Benedict smirked as he made a show of looking down at himself. “And happy to report that I still am.  Anyway, I’d like for you to come with me to Mark’s wedding.  All my friends will be there,” said Benedict as he stood up and apparently was adjusting himself.  
  
“I’d love to go.  When is it?”  
  
“January...I forget the exact date.  It’s the weekend after New Year’s.  I keep teasing him that I’m not going to look like this, so they may not want me in their wedding photos.”  
  
“What do you mean?”  frowned Donna.  
  
“My hair will be longer and dyed dark for _Sherlock_.”  
  
“Really?”  
  
“Yeah,” replied Benedict as he crossed the room to the wardrobe out of Donna’s view.  “It’s in my contract.  They want my hair to be a certain length, which unfortunately, is quite a bit longer than it is now; and they were also quite insistent that Sherlock’s hair be dark. I can't cut it from here on in.”  
  
“I’m sure you will look very handsome.”  
  
Benedict snorted in response from off screen.  “Please! I’m going to look like a woman. I dread it.”  
  
Donna looked him over as he came back into view and sat cross-legged on the bed.  He was wearing olive green cargo pants with a pink and burgundy striped T-shirt, which was covered with a v-neck burgundy sweater.  She smiled at his pink, yellow and lime green striped socks.  
  
“You’re very colorful today.  Is that your costume?”  
  
 _Okay Benedict, she doesn't approve of your outfit.  I can see it in her eyes._  
  
“No.  I change into my costume at base. We have these extraordinary vintage costumes from the 1950’s.”  
  
 _That’s a relief.  I was beginning to wonder about the costume designer._  
  
“Oh.  So, what are your plans for your birthday?”  
  
“By some miracle I’m scheduled to work half day; so I intend to go for a drive in the afternoon.  Do a little exploring of the area,” replied Benedict as he got up and put on a pair of beige canvas trainers.  “I wish you could be here.”  
  
“We’ll celebrate when you get back, Ben. I suppose I should venture out into the store to see if Carly has cooled down by now.”  
  
“You never told me what you did,” Benedict said as he picked up his script and put it into a messenger bag along with two bottles of water, an apple and a thick book.  
  
“Please don’t judge me until I finish, okay?”  
  
Benedict zipped his bag and sat down on the corner of the bed.  “Judgement  withheld pending end of anecdote. Go ahead.”  
  
“Carly has a customer named Mark, who’s a writer for a show called _Dr. Who_....”  
  
Benedict's face registered instant recognition at the mention of the name Mark and _Dr. Who_.  He nodded.

“Mark Gatiss!  We were in _Starter for 10_ together, and he’s also one of the creators of _Sherlock_ ,” laughed Benedict.  
  
“What a small world. I had no idea. Anyway, they have an awful caterer from what Mark was telling us; and I asked him if he would consider hiring Carldonn Creative Catering in their place.”  
  
Benedict whistled softly.  “That’s very ambitious, Donna.  Do you have any idea what’s involved in catering for a program of that size?”  
  
“Now, you sound just like Carly!  What’s the harm in trying?  I know we could make it work, Benedict.”  
  
“What about your job at the Tribune?  The catering is going to take up a good portion of your time. The caterers are often on set most of the day -preparing, serving and cleaning up.”  
  
“I’m first and foremost a food critic, and Carly designs restaurant interiors,” replied Donna.  “The catering is extra money for us, and we can make great money doing this.”  
  
Benedict glanced at his watch. “It’s time for me to be downstairs,” he said stuffing his pockets with his wallet and other assorted items.  “Talk soon, and promise me you’ll think this catering idea of yours through before making _any_ commitments, okay?  I don’t want you biting off more than you can chew, pardon the pun.  I love you. Cheers.”  
  
“I will, and I love you, too.”  
  
Donna cut the connection and made her way out of the office into the front of the store.  Everyone had already left, except for her sister, who was preparing a bank deposit.    
  
“How’s Benedict?”  
  
“Busy working.  Are you still pissed off at me?”  
  
Carly looked up from her paperwork and put down her pen.  
  
“No.  I’m not.  I’ve been doing some thinking, and I have to admit that your idea is intriguing.  Did you tell Benedict about it?”  
  
“Yeah, and he seems to think that it’s going to involve a lot of time and effort. He’s concerned that we’re going to get in over our heads and cautioned me to really think it through before taking action.”  
  
“He’s right, Donna; but no one is beating down the doors for me to design any restaurants.  Jamie is taking forever to get bank approval for his new restaurant.  I’d love a challenge, and...”  
  
Donna clapped her hands together and hugged her sister.  “Fabulous!  I knew you would.....”  
  
“Hold it right there.  I want some time to consider all the angles and discuss it with Steven.  I need to have Kelsey run the numbers; but she's gone for the weekend, so I'll ask her Monday.  You didn’t give Mark a date when our proposal would be done, so there’s no rush.”  
  
Kelsey was their London office bookkeeper.  _She said ‘our’ proposal.   My sister is definitely tempted, especially if she's going to ask Kelsey to run the numbers. Excellent._  
  
“How much time do you need?”  
  
“Give me until Tuesday,” said Carly.  "We can sit down with Kelsey Monday afternoon and discuss it intelligently."  
  
“Fair enough.”  
  
“And I don’t want you bugging me about it all weekend, okay?”  
  
Donna Saint James crossed her heart and smiled.  
  
“Promise.  Besides, I’m not going to be in town.  I’m going up to Crestwood to surprise Benedict on his birthday.”

 

 

  
Wanda Ventham was sitting in her trailer during a break in filming.  She had been flipping through a cook book, looking for starter recipes, when there was a knock at the door.  
  
“Come in,” she called.  
  
Adam Ackland opened the door and entered her trailer.  “Am I interrupting anything, Wanda?”  
  
“Not at all.  Have a seat. I was just trying to plan out a menu for when Ben brings his bird over to meet us.  I must have changed it a hundred times already,” she laughed.  “I so want to impress her, Adam.”  
  
Adam sat on a chair and nodded.  “I remember my mum doing the same when I first brought Alice around.  You’re a brilliant cook, Wanda.  Just make your famous beef roast, Yorkshire pudding and banoffee pie.”  
  
“That’s what Tim keeps telling me.  Stay with the basics.”  
  
“I’ve got some news to brighten your day.”  
  
“How good?”  
  
“We’re only filming half day Saturday, so as soon as we wrap for the day we can drive over to Crestwood in time to surprise Ben for his birthday.”  
  
“That’s wonderful, Adam!  We can take him to dinner at that restaurant in the Inn.  I’ve been reading about it, and the reviews have all been excellent.”  
  
“I couldn’t get rooms in the same inn he’s staying at.  Apparently, the cast and crew have the whole place occupied. We’ll be at the Copper Ball Inn, which looks rather nice from what I could see online, and got decent reviews. I’ve also asked Granddad to join us.”  
“The more, the merrier.  I’ll call Tim and let him know his son won’t be alone on his birthday,” said Wanda.  “I can’t wait to see Ben’s face!”

 

  
  
  
Timothy Carlton loved nothing more than sitting on his roof terrace in the bright sunshine.  He was reclining on a lounge chair while reading a new detective novel and enjoying an apricot sour.  There was a warm, gentle breeze blowing; and Timothy could smell the rosemary and tarragon from Wanda’s herb garden.  
  
 _It’s been so peaceful with them both away....I really need to speak with their agents about getting them out of town jobs more often.  No drama, no spy games, no running out of hot water, no rows....nothing.  This is just pure, unadulterated bliss._  
  
Timothy put down his book and took off his reading glasses.  He gazed out at Kensington palace as he took a sip of his cocktail.  
  
 _Maybe I’ll go over to the Orangery for tea, but it’s more fun with Wanda along.   I could go to the Garrick Club for a game of cards.  Oh, I forgot.  The guys are all busy this week or off on holiday.  Maybe I should go online and book a ticket to a West End show and have dinner at the Ivy…but that’s also more fun to do with Wanda._  
  
Timothy yawned and put his arms behind his head as he continued to consider his options.  
  
 _I know! I’ll pack up the car and take a drive to Gloucestershire.  I can wipe those files off the laptop for Wanda and have a putter in the garden.  Though it’s probably better if I wait for Wanda to come home, so she can supervise any planting I do.  I could take the tube up to Hampstead and have a wander around the village, followed by dinner at the Stag...but that’s more fun with Ben._  
  
Timothy picked up his mobile and began to punch in Emily’s number.  
  
 _Maybe Emmy would like to go out to dinner tonight. Damn. I just remembered. She mentioned yesterday that she had a date with that boy I met on the Heath._  
  
Timothy took a bite of the cheddar and Branston pickle sandwich he had made as he watched a helicopter fly by overhead.    
  
 _Shit.  It’s too damn quiet.  I actually miss them and all their craziness._  
  
Then an idea came to Timothy Carlton.  
  
 _Why don’t I  take a drive up to Crestwood and surprise Benedict for his birthday?  I’ll take him to dinner and book myself a room at the inn where he’s staying…the Blackberry Bramble.  There!  Perfect!  Let me give Wanda a call and tell her, so she won’t be sad that her baby’s spending his birthday alone._

  
  
  
  
  
Donna Saint James stood in front of the mirror in her bedroom staring at her reflection.   She had gone out and purchased a bright red corset at an expensive lingerie store on the way back to her apartment.  The lacy corset had closures up the front and a large satin bow at the top.  Underneath she wore a pair of matching high cut red satin panties. On her feet were backless, red satin slippers with a tuft of marabou across the instep and a medium height heel.  
  
 _Holy cow!  I look like a hooker in this...I wonder if Benedict will find it sexy? I’m not so sure I feel very sexy dressed like this._  
  
Donna turned so she could admire her rear view in the mirror.  
  
 _Ugh! My ass looks like two big round apples.  Good gravy. Why did I have to inherit Mom’s curves?  I bet Carly could pull this off.   I just look like I’m getting ready for a Halloween party rather than a sexy evening with my man.  Argh!_  
  
Donna was jolted out of her reverie by the sound of the doorbell.  
  
 _Hmmm...company from within the building.  It couldn’t be Carly.  She was meeting Steve to go out for dinner._  
  
Donna put on a magenta silk floor-length dressing gown and tied the sash around her waist as she went to see who her caller was.  She looked through the peep hole in the door to see Andrew Scott.  
  
“Hi, Andrew!  Come in.”  Donna opened the door and stepped aside for him to enter.  “How did you make out?”  
  
Andrew grinned and held up a small envelope.  “I’m here to deliver your boyfriend’s birthday present. Two center stall tickets to _War Horse_ for Saturday night, August 5th."

Donna clapped her hands together.  "Oh, Andrew!  That's the best news I've had all day!  How close are the seats?"

"Stall F, so you’ll be close enough to watch the actors sweat and possibly spit on you if you're lucky,” he joked.  
  
“Thank you so much, Andrew!” said Donna hugging him.  “They are sold out for months – how did you do it?”  
  
“One of my friends is in the production; so he was able to get house tickets for me.  These are premium seats. The view will be excellent.”  
  
“How much do I owe him?”  
  
Andrew smiled.  “Nothing.  That’s one of the perks of being friends with actors.  We can sometimes get each other free tickets.”  
  
“Benedict is going to be thrilled.  He’s been talking about wanting to see this show.”  
  
“Anything to make your man happy,” laughed Andrew.  “And I do hope you were able to make him happy the other night, when I inadvertently interrupted things.”  He paused to look down at his feet and looked back up at Donna.  “I do feel awful about that – why didn’t you just come out and tell me he was here in the first place?  I would have understood and left post haste.”  
  
Donna shrugged.  “Because I felt embarrassed – it was rather obvious from my appearance what we were up to.....and I was banking on your dropping the box and leaving right away.  I also didn’t want to appear rude because you’re always so nice to me.”  
  
“It hasn’t stopped you before, Darlin’. You are many things, but shy isn’t one of them when you’ve got something on that lovely mind of yours,” snorted Andrew.  
  
“Gosh! That wasn’t a very complimentary thing to say, Andrew!”  
  
Andrew started to laugh.  “No, it wasn’t meant to be; but it’s true.  We’re friends, aren't we?  And friends can be totally honest with each other, so next time, please just tell me to get the hell out.”  
  
“Promise.  Next time I’ll push you right out the door,” giggled Donna. “Still friends?”  
  
“Absolutely.  Poor Ben must have been livid while cooped up in the loo.”  
  
“He wasn’t happy, but everything is fine.”  
  
Andrew reached out to touch the sleeve of her robe.  “What a beautiful robe, Darlin’. I should buy my sister, Hannah, one like that for her birthday.  She would love it.”    
  
“Thanks.  I went on a shopping spree at an exclusive lingerie store, and this was one of my purchases.”  
  
“What’s the occasion?”  
  
“Sex.”  
  
“Ah.”  
  
“I’m taking the train up to Crestwood to surprise Benedict for his birthday.”  
  
“Well then.”  
  
Donna caught Andrew looking her up and down.    
  
“Something wrong?”  
  
Andrew frowned and scratched his head.  “I’m not loving the red slippers with the robe.”  
  
“Oh, God!  They don’t go together,” Donna laughed.  “The slippers are for Benedict.”  
  
Andrew snorted.  “I never pegged Ben for the red satin slipper type.”  
  
“No, no, no!  I was trying on something that I bought especially for Benedict to look at. I got this sexy corset outfit, and I’m not sure if it’s right for me.”  
  
“Off with the robe then, and model it for me,” said Andrew as he walked over and plopped himself down on the couch.  “I’m an expert in corsets.”  
  
“Since when?” asked Donna as she untied the robe.  
  
“I had to wear one in a play I did a few years ago.”  
  
Donna regarded him with raised eyebrows.  “Really?  I can’t picture that.”  
  
“And why not?  Don’t you think I have the body to pull something like that off?  I can assure you I did,” said Andrew, pretending to sound hurt.  
  
Donna laughed  “I’d love to see a photo of you in one.”  
  
“The name of the play was _Original Sin_ – you can Google the reviews.  I played a prostitute.  It was tons of fun, and I got decent reviews. The New York Times critic even liked it, and that notorious bastard hates everything!”

_And that would be Dad's good friend and London-based critic, Rodney Stigwood, who covers the London-based events they deem worthy of being covered._

“Okay.  Here goes.  Now, please don’t laugh,” said Donna as she opened the robe and let it drop to the floor.  
  
“Turn around slowly,” instructed Andrew.  
  
“My butt looks like two apples.”  
  
“Hmmm.”  
  
Donna pivoted and faced Andrew.  
  
“So, what do you think?”  
  
“Are you aiming for a classy or trashy look?”  
  
Donna looked taken aback. “Classy, why?”  
  
“I would have said well done you, had you said trashy.”  
  
“Damn!  What don’t you like?”  
  
Andrew pursed his lips thoughtfully. “The colour for one.  Red just shouts harlot to me.  I personally feel you can never go wrong with basic black – does it come in black?”  
  
“Yeah.  It also comes in white.”  
  
“Save the virginal look for the wedding night, Darlin’.  You want to harness your inner temptress and knock his socks off.”  
  
“I want to knock off more than his socks,” quipped Donna with a wink. "I'm aiming for the - pants, as you call them."  
  
“Then I’d definitely exchange it for the black one, and I’d suggest getting a size smaller.  You want your tits pushed up, so the tops are exposed.  It will also make them appear fuller.”

_As if they weren't full enough on their own.  Any higher and they'll be in my mouth.  It's Benedict's mouth I need them to be in._  
  
“Aren’t you the knowledgeable one.  What about the panties?”  
  
“I love the knickers.  They fit perfectly, and your bum looks fabulous.”  
  
Donna bit her lower lip.  “I feel like my butt cheeks are showing.”  
  
“Just a tad, but in a tasteful way.”  
  
“What about the slippers?”  
  
“Do they come in black without the feathered trim?”  
  
“Yeah, but I love the marabou trim!”  
  
“I suppose you could get away with them.  What kind of robe are you thinking of pairing this with?”  
  
“I have a short black satin wrap-around.”  
  
“Perfect. If you make those changes you’ll have Benedict panting in no time.”  
  
Donna Saint James smiled widely.  “That’s the plan, Andrew.  To give my honey the surprise of his life!”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I tinkered with my own timeline and had Benedict and Donna dating longer than originally mentioned.
> 
> 2\. The village of Crestwood only exists in my mind. It is a totally fictional place, as are the Blackberry Bramble and Copper Ball Inns.
> 
> 3\. I have no idea how catering actually works for a TV show, so I have tailored it to fit the storyline.
> 
> 4\. Also, I haven't a clue as to how location shoots work – everything I’ve written about filming on location is purely fictional. 
> 
> 5\. Andrew Scott does have a sister named Hannah. 
> 
> 6\. Andrew Scott did play a Victorian era prostitute named Angel in a play called Original Sin back in 2002. Here’s a review: http://www.theguardian.com/stage/2002/jun/07/theatre.artsfeatures1
> 
> 7\. Michael Grandage directed Jude Law in Hamlet at the Donmar Warehouse in 2009. Benedict's dream takes him to the Olivier Theatre within the National Theatre complex. I couldn't resist a nod to Benedict's doing Hamlet next year! 
> 
> 8\. Ian refers to Mark Gatiss' husband, actor Ian Hallard.


	61. Chapter 61

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This week: There are surprises for all on Benedict’s birthday – some welcome and others unwelcome. Donna snoops around.
> 
> Note: Once again using ****** to depict things happening at the same time. 
> 
> Warning: A small part of the chapter deals with bodily functions.

 

Donna Saint James was up bright and early on Benedict Cumberbatches’ birthday, too excited to sleep any later. She watched the sunrise from the large floor-to-ceiling bedroom window wondering if Benedict were also watching it from his hotel. Afterwards, Donna showered and did her hair and makeup before retrieving her overnight bag from the closet. Her laptop was set up on the dresser, so she could catch Benedict as soon as he signed onto Skype and wish him a happy birthday. 

_It’s almost five thirty. I know he said he had to be up early for a six o’clock pickup. He’s probably still sleeping. I’ll give him a few more minutes, and then call his cellphone. I can’t wait to see his face when I show up at the Blackberry Bramble Inn tonight! He’s going to be so surprised!_

Donna made sure she had her train tickets in her handbag before starting to pack her overnight bag. All the carefully folded garments had been placed on the dresser beside the birthday card that contained the tickets to _War Horse_ she had gotten for Benedict.

_Let’s see, dressy black dress for dinner tonight, black sky-high toeless pumps that hurt my feet after an hour, jeans, T-shirt, sneakers, light-weight cover up, corset, panties, bra, robe, hooker slippers, the all-important ultra-thin, ribbed condoms (I’ll be the judge if they’re designed for ‘her’ pleasure or not), and the sexy black chemise to sleep in after Benedict gets his present…ha ha ha…he’ll never be expecting me to make good on my promise. I hope he got a good night’s rest because he’s going to need it tonight!_

 

********************************************************

 

Benedict Cumberbatch was lounging in bed at five o’clock in the morning, contemplating what to have for breakfast when the room phone began to ring with his wake-up call.

_Well this hasn’t happened in quite a while,_ thought Benedict with amusement. _I can’t remember the last time I woke up before a wake-up call._

He stretched and yawned as he absently scratched at an itch on his stomach. Benedict could see it was just about sunrise from a thin beam of light that shown through a small gap in the drapes. He tossed back the covers and went to the window, pulling open the drapes so the room was flooded with the dawn’s early light.

_What a beautiful sunrise! I hope Donna’s up to experience it. It feels so good to get a refreshing night’s sleep! I can’t wait to get on set and do those scenes. It’s going to be such a treat to ride that old motorbike._

After sitting cross-legged on the bed and meditating for ten minutes, Benedict noticed the message light blinking on his mobile. He was pleased to find several text and voice mail messages from family and friends wishing him a happy birthday. As he quickly scrolled through them, he had been disappointed to find nothing from Donna in either mailbox.

_Hmmm...could she have forgotten that today’s my birthday? She doesn’t seem like the type who would miss any sort of date, no matter how trivial. I know she had to go to the Tribune this morning for a meeting, but it’s too early for her to leave yet. She should still be home._

Benedict picked up the framed photo of Donna that he had packed in his luggage. It was a close up of her face that he had taken one day while they had been walking along one of the trails in Hampstead Heath. Her chestnut hair was wind-blown and her hazel eyes sparkled with good humour. He loved that he had captured her dimples while she was smiling at him. Benedict smiled back at the photo as he slowly traced her lips with his index finger and imagined them on his own.

_I guess you’re still sleeping. I’ll take my shower and make some of that crappy coffee in the meantime._

 

*************************************************************

 

Donna brought her laptop with her into the kitchen and made herself a bowl of steel-cut oatmeal, topped with a pat of butter, a handful of fresh blueberries and some chopped, toasted pecans. She sprinkled some brown sugar over the top and added a splash of milk. As she prepared a mug of decaf Lipton tea, she glanced impatiently at the laptop screen. BTCCmber71976 was still not signed in.

_Still no Benedict. I guess he forgot to sign on. He must have decided to sleep late. I’ll call him as soon as I finish breakfast. I’m dying to know if my surprise breakfast was delivered._

 

***********************************************************

 

When Benedict came out of the bathroom, he filled the in-room coffee maker with cold water and got dressed. As he was about to tear open a packet of coffee to put in the filter, the message light began blinking on the room phone.

_Donna must have called while I was in the shower. Fuckity, fuck, fuck._

Benedict immediately called the voice mail to find it was a message from the front desk saying they had a gift basket for him and did he want it brought up to his room because some of the contents were perishable.

_Mum and Dad must have sent something. I wonder what it could be?_

Five minutes later, Benedict was excitedly unwrapping a gift basket that had been delivered from one of the local bakeries in town. He opened the card that was included and read the message:

 

**Happy Birthday, Benedict!**

**Wish I could be sharing this with you. Enjoy!**

**All my love, Donna**

 

Benedict felt himself smiling from ear-to-ear as he re-read the card. The simple gesture left him feeling all warm and cozy inside. His gurgling stomach loudly reminded him that it was time for breakfast, so he began to eagerly inspect the contents.

_Let’s see what’s in here: looks like different kinds of bite-sized muffins – apple walnut, lemon poppy seed, chocolate chip, blueberry…here’s a ramekin of butter, a little jar of lemon curd…what’s under here? Mini croissants…I can smell the butter in those and they feel warm…Ah ha! A packet of ground Kenyan coffee! Brilliant! What a thoughtful thing for Donna to do. I’ll call and thank her while I’m eating._

After setting the coffee to brew, Benedict started to pack up his messenger bag. As he zipped it shut, his mobile began to ring. He smiled when he saw that it was Donna.

“Hello there.”

“ _Good Morning and Happy Birthday! It isn’t too early, is it?”_

“Not at all. I have an early call today, so I’ve been up for awhile. I even got to see the most extraordinary sunrise – did you happen to see it?”

_Hopefully, tomorrow morning, we can watch the sun come up together,_ she thought.

“ _Yes! I was wondering if you were up to see it. Do you have time to chat? I don’t want to keep you from getting ready for work.”_

“Yeah. I’ve got some time left. I was just about to try some of the coffee that was in your lovely gift basket, which I can’t thank you enough for.”

“ _I’m so glad you like it! I remember your saying that you were growing weary of toast and porridge everyday, so I wanted you to have something special being it’s your birthday.”_

“Not to mention the crap that they pass off for coffee in a hotel room,” he chuckled. “You have no idea how much I appreciate this, Donna. The muffins and croissants are delicious. They were still warm when they got here.”

“ _It’s my job to make sure my boyfriend is well taken care of.”_

_Boyfriend....I love the sound of that,_ he thought happily.

Benedict took a bite of an apple muffin, savouring the buttery, cinnamon-streusel crumb topping. “Mmmm...this apple muffin is my favourite. I was...erm...beginning to think you had forgotten about me.”

“ _What do you mean? I’ve been waiting for you to sign onto Skype since I woke up.”_

_Fuck! I turned off my laptop before going to bed last night. So dumb, Benedict._

“Are you still home, Donna?”

“ _Yes. I’m getting dressed, so I don’t have a lot of time.”_

Benedict quickly turned on his laptop as he ate one of the croissants.

“Just a minute. I’m waiting for it to boot up," he said around a mouthful of food.

_Motherfucking laptop is taking it’s sweet time today. She’ll probably be done dressing by the time it finishes booting up. Wait! For fucks sake – what a time for it to download an anti-virus update! Arrrgghhhh! I’d better let it run considering that site I was on last night. I don’t need a virus._

“Do you have any reviews this weekend?” asked Benedict as he spread some lemon curd on a blueberry muffin and popped it in his mouth.

“ _Believe it or not, I have two restaurants to review today – I’m covering for one of the other critics who's out sick. For some strange reason, he has two reservations for today, and the article runs in tomorrow’s paper. I’m going to have to eat fast and write.”_

_Especially, if I want to catch that train at Kings Cross._

Benedict drank some coffee and ate another croissant. “That’s a lot of food to taste in one day. I hope you have a lot of tasters along.”

“ _No worries on that front._ _Thank goodness it’s for an article on where to have a power lunch in the City of London. I was able to find plenty of company to tag along,” she giggled. “Just mention ‘free lunch’ and half the office is suddenly clamoring to be my best friend. It’s hard to do more than one restaurant in one day for the same meal, so I’ll be relying on everyone else’s palate to help me out. It would have been a piece of cake had it been a breakfast and lunch – pardon the pun.”_

“I wish one of those palates were mine. I miss you.”

“ _I miss you, too, Benedict. Hey! I thought you were signing onto Skype.”_

“My fucking laptop decided to automatically download an anti-virus update first. It should only be another minute.”

“ _Why don’t you just cancel the update and do it after we hang up?”_

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck. “Erm...I was on some dodgy websites last night. I don’t want to take any chances. So, are you done after the reviews then?”

_Dodgy sites? I wonder if he was looking at porn sites._

“ _Not quite. After I write them up and file the article, I have to help Carly. Then I’ve got an appointment to get my nails done. My day is free after that...just in time for dinner, a good book and bed.”_

_Ha ha ha! I already got my nails done yesterday and don’t have to help Carly. I’ll be on a train right after I leave the Tribune._

Benedict smiled with anticipation as the laptop finally invited him to sign in.

"I'm signing on now. Just one more minute, and you should see me."

“ _What time do you think you’ll be back in the room, Ben? I know you said filming wouldn’t last all day, but then I remember you said they sometimes change things around at the last minute.”_

“I’m not entirely sure,” he said truthfully while wiping crumbs from his full, lush lips. “The director’s idea of half a day can be different from mine or sometimes things can go wrong with the equipment. Today I’m doing my motorbike scenes with my character’s love interest.”

“ _Do you have to kiss her…or anything?”_

_Does she sound a bit jealous? I think I like that._

“Nope. The scene calls for her to almost run me down while driving away in her sports car.”

“ _Jeez. Please be careful!”_

“That’s why we have stuntmen. They do all the really dangerous stuff...though I'm pretty sure I can handle what’s needed today.”

‘ _Pretty sure’ – there are some things he doesn’t have to share with me.\_

  
Benedict finally was able to log onto Skype. His screen showed Donna standing in her bedroom.  She was in the midst of brushing her hair, and her laptop seemed to be set up on the dresser.

“You’re dressed,” he said with obvious disappointment.

Donna laughed. “Of course, I am. Did you think I’d be standing here all this time in the nude?”

_Yes! God damn it. Yes! I really did entertain that dirty little thought._

Benedict got up and poured himself the rest of the coffee. He added a creamer and two packets of demerara sugar.

“I had high hopes,” he muttered as he stirred the hot brew.

“You should have signed on earlier then,” Donna chided him as she fluffed her hair about her shoulders and fixed her bangs.

Benedict blew on the surface and took a tentative sip, smacking his lips in satisfaction.

“Ah, this is the first proper cup of coffee I’ve had in almost three weeks!”

“Did you bring your own sugar?”

“Absolutely. I’ve yet to stay in a hotel or inn that offers it in the rooms.” Benedict returned to the desk with his coffee and took another sip. “I should buy some of this coffee to keep at home. It's really excellent.”

Donna watched Benedict as he drank his coffee and nibbled on the bakery items. He seemed quite content to her and pleased to no end that she had done something special for him.

_My train arrives at four. By the time I get a cab and over to the inn, it should be four thirty. I really hope he’s done filming by then. I suppose I can always have a drink in their bar and wait for him, should he be delayed. Our dinner reservation is for seven. Thank God the restaurant is part of the inn._

“So, do you have anything special planned for tonight?”

Benedict shook his head as he wrapped the remainder of the muffins in a napkin and stuffed them inside his messenger bag.

“Not really. My original plan was to take a drive through the countryside and stop for dinner somewhere….”

_Oh, no you don’t! You need to come back to the inn!_

“…but they’re predicting rain for the afternoon…”

_Good! On with the plan!_

“…then I got to thinking that since I have scenes tomorrow, I might as well just eat dinner with some of the cast and turn in early with a good book.”

_Hell, no! That isn’t an option either, my dear. I need to have you all to myself._

“Does anyone know it’s your birthday?”

“I don’t think so. I haven’t mentioned it,” replied Benedict.

_I really want to surprise him. I’m just going to have to improvise once I arrive. I wonder… if I were to give the desk clerk twenty quid, would he or she let me into Benedict’s room? It never hurts to try._

“Donna, it’s time for me to be downstairs. I’ll ring you tonight when I get back to the room and maybe we can Skype a bit?”

“Oh, I think we can do _better_ than just Skype a bit,” smiled Donna, batting her eyelashes at him. “I want you to have a night to remember.”

_Christ! Does this mean she wants to have Skype sex? That’s pretty brazen. If she’s up to it, I’m always game for something different. Phone sex can be boring....but to actually see and watch each other. Wow, wow, wow!_

Benedict cocked an eyebrow at her and smiled lewdly. “Does this mean what I think it does?”

_He thinks I want to have Skype sex. I’ll let him think that._

Donna smiled at him and slowly licked her bottom lip. His ice blue eyes seemed to be boring right into hers from the screen - they seemed darker and the pupils a bit dilated.

“It depends on what you’re thinking.”

“All kinds of deliciously naughty thoughts…involving you...and me....and maybe your... _toy_.”

_Oh, yes, he does think we’re going to have Skype sex._

Donna smiled even wider. “C’est un secret, mon chere. You’re just going to have to be patient and wait until tonight.” She winked at him.

“Je déteste les secrets!” snapped Benedict, rolling his eyes.

“Sorry, but you’re going to have to practice being patient, Mr. Cumberbatch.”

_When they were giving out patience, I totally skipped that line._

Benedict huffed impatiently and shook his head at her.

“Oh, Miss Cock Tease, you are so lucky you’re not going to be here tonight, because I would absolutely take you up on your offer from the night at the Golden Fleece.”

“I love a man who’s not afraid to take what he wants,” Donna said in a low, seductive voice.

“I’m not. I rather like being dominant, but afterwards I’d make sure to give you a night to remember in return.”

“And I love a man who knows how to return a favor even more.”

_Ooooo good to hear he likes to reciprocate, and I certainly plan to be on the receiving end tonight._ _That voice of his is going to be the death of me...it gives me the shivers when he lowers it like that._

“I hope you have a fun day, Benedict. I love you. Bye.”

There was banging on Benedict’s door. “Ben! The van’s downstairs,” came a male voice from the hallway.

“Be right there,” he shouted. “Talk later, Darling. Thank you again – this was such a lovely treat. I love you, too. Cheers!”

_So, he wants to give me a night to remember. Oh, my that sure does sound promising!_ Thought Donna as she signed off of Skype.

 

 

 

Timothy Carlton arrived at the Blackberry Bramble Inn close to three o’clock. He had made exceptional time as traffic on the Motorway was light. The inn was an attractive two-story building made of brick and timber that had been lovingly restored and updated with all the modern conveniences one could want according to their website. Timothy had been fortunate to book the only vacant room in the inn, as the _Murder is Easy_ cast and crew had taken up the majority of the rooms.

Timothy made his way into the inn’s reception area and noted there was a restaurant to the left of the entrance, including a pub-like bar with a huge used brick fireplace. To the right of the entrance was the check in desk and stairs leading to the upper floor where the majority of the rooms were located.

The kindly-looking elderly woman at the reception desk smiled at Timothy.

“Good afternoon. Are you checking in?”

“Yes, I have a booking for a double room,” replied Timothy.

“Are you part of the film crew?”

“No, but my son is. I’m here to surprise him for his birthday.”

“How lovely of you!” said the woman. “Your name please.”

“Timothy Cumberbatch. I rang yesterday, and I believe I spoke with you.”

“Yes, now I remember. You booked our last vacant room. I just need for you to fill out this card while I collect your key.”

“Thank you,” said Timothy as he filled in the information requested and gave her his credit card. “My son is in Room 18. Will my room be close to his?”

The woman processed the payment and nodded. “Very close. You are in Room 15. Just go up those stairs and turn right at the landing. Your room is the fourth door on the left. Your son’s is opposite yours near the end of the corridor.”

“Jolly good then,” said Timothy. “Thank you.”

_I’d better ring Wanda when I get to the room. I haven’t been able to have a proper chat with her since Wednesday morning. The reception must be rubbish up there, and I’m tired of playing bloody phone tag on the landlines._

 

 

 

“Alice, for the love of God, aren’t you ready yet?” Adam Ackland called out impatiently to his wife as he unlocked the door and entered their hotel room.

Filming had run much later than expected, and Adam was anxious to get on the road before the rain started in earnest. He had left Wanda and his grandfather downstairs in the van while he came up to see what the delay was about.

“You told me you’d be right down," he fumed. "That was over thirty fucking minutes ago! We’ve been sitting in the van merrily wasting petrol....”

Adam came to an abrupt halt just inside the room as the stench of feces filled his nose. “Oh...Christ.” He felt like he was going to gag.

Alice was bent over the bed attending to their son’s nappy on a plastic-coated changing pad. She looked and sounded harried as she sprinkled powder on his bottom.

“Give me another minute, Adam. Jonathan needed a nappy change.”

“You were changing him when I brought the luggage down.”

“I know how to tell time, Adam. I’m well aware it’s taken me almost half an hour, but it turns out your son wasn’t quite done. I can’t help that he decided to have another messy poo.”

“Shit.”

“You got that right…and plenty of it!”

Adam wrinkled his nose in distaste as he approached the bed and the stench intensified.

“Christ, that smells worse than it usually does! For fucks sake!” He tried not to gag.

Alice looked at her wits end as she finished fastening the fresh nappy and began to put a clean onsie on the squirming baby.  She indicated the soiled nappy that was rolled up on the bed with her chin.  "If you could bin that please before I puke all over the bed, I'd be ever-so-grateful!"

"I sense stroppiness," quipped Adam, as he gingerly picked up the offending nappy with two fingers and tossed it in the en suite waste bin while holding his nose. "Hard to believe someone so small can make such a stinky mess."

“Mess doesn't even begin to describe it, Adam!  I had to take everything off and put him in the bath," Alice continued. "His clothes are soiled beyond the point of no return, so I just binned them. We have plenty of onesies, so I’m not worried.”

“Why didn’t you just ring my mobile so I could come up and help?”

_And why didn't you think to come up and see what was wrong once you noticed me taking longer than usual, you dolt?_

Alice paused for a moment to stare up at the ceiling. “Hmmm…why didn’t I call you? Let me think about this….ah, yes. It was because I was up to my elbows in slimy poo. Is that a good enough reason?”

Adam walked over and patted his wife on the shoulder.  “I’m sorry for not thinking to come up sooner to see what the delay was. You have every right to be stropy with me, Ally.”

Alice snapped up the onesie and nuzzled the baby’s nose. “Is that all better, my little lamb chop?”

Adam looked down at his son, who was cooing and pulling on his wife’s nose. “I can remember when you used to call me your little lamb chop.”

Alice guffawed. “And now I call you _other_ things and little isn’t one of them.”

Adam pretended to look hurt. “Thanks a lot, Love!”

“Don’t mention it. Now, please take your son and bring him downstairs while I call for the room to be cleaned. I don’t want this mess in here all night.”

Adam picked up Jonathan, who gurgled at his father. He kissed the baby’s cheek and went to pick up the diaper bag.

“Hey, my little man! Are you done with making a pooey mess?”

The baby promptly broke wind and began to fuss. Adam could smell another mess in the making.

“I’ll take that as a no.” Adam pressed his lips to the baby’s forehead. “You don’t feel like you have a fever. Ally, what did he have for lunch? Anything new?”

“Yes, he had some pureed cooked beets. He loved them.”

“Maybe his digestive system didn’t enjoy them as much as he did.”

Alice bit her lower lip. “It would seem to make sense. He’s never had food affect him this way before. Everything we’ve given him so far stays put. I’m going to call the doctor. In the meantime, I don’t think I’ll venture over to Crestwood with him like this. You go with Wanda and Joss, and give Benedict my love.”

Adam shook his head. “I won’t leave you alone with him feeling out of sorts. I’ll give Granddad the key to the van, and he and Wanda can still go. Everything is within walking distance here; so we don’t need it.”

 

 

 

 

It had just started to rain as Donna Saint James hurried into the Blackberry Bramble Inn, wheeling her small overnight bag behind her. It had been a bright and sunny day until the clouds began to roll in during the last hour.

_Oh, what a quaint old inn! It looks just like the photos online, which is always a plus! I can’t wait to see the rooms._

Donna approached the front desk; and the woman, who had checked in Timothy, approached her with a welcoming smile.

“Good afternoon, Miss. Do you have a booking? If you don’t, I’m afraid we have no rooms left.”

“Well, my boyfriend is already checked in. I came to surprise him for his birthday, and would like a key to his room.”

The woman narrowed her eyes at Donna as she looked her up and down appraisingly. “What is the guest’s name?”

“Cumberbatch. Benedict Cumberbatch. He’s in room 18,” replied Donna.

“I’m sorry, Love; but I’m afraid I can’t help you. It’s the inn’s policy not to allow strangers into registered guests rooms.”

“Oh, please could you reconsider? He has no idea I’m coming, and I so wanted to surprise him.”

The woman bit her lower lip as if trying to convince herself it was alright.

“I’m not supposed to let strangers into a guest’s room without their permission, and Mr. Cumberbatch didn’t leave word that he was expecting anyone.”

Donna removed her cellphone from her coat pocket and scrolled through her photos. She showed the woman a photo James had taken of her and Benedict in Hyde Park. They were sitting on a bench, and Donna had been sitting on Benedict's lap with his arms wrapped around her and kissing her cheek.

“Oh, you two make such a lovely couple.”

“I’d like to already be settled in when he comes back from filming.”

“You’re the one who sent him the basket and cake from Butterflake Bakery then.”

“Yes, that’s me!”

“It was a brilliant idea, Love. He was very chuffed with the basket. Came down this morning all full of smiles when he left his key. Told me his bird sent him the basket.”

Donna smiled proudly. “That’s so good to hear. I’m glad it made his morning.”

"Your cake arrived around half three, and I had it brought up to his room."

"Thank you so much!"

“He’s a lucky birthday boy to have so many surprise visitors today,” the woman laughed.

  _Surprise visitors? Other than me? What is she talking about? Oh my God – could it be his parents? His best friend, Adam? Jimmy? No, Jimmy would have invited me to come along...I think. Maybe one of his other friends who I haven’t met yet._

“He’s had other visitors?” asked Donna innocently.

“Just one other besides you. His father is here. Didn’t you know?”

_Tim? Tim is here? Holy shit! Why, oh why?_

Donna laughed nervously. “Well, that sure is a surprise! I didn’t know that...you would think my boyfriend would have said something. What room is Mr. Cumberbatch in?”

“Right across the hall from your boyfriend in Room 15.”

_Oh, lucky me. Fuck it all and then some!_

“As a matter of fact, he just came down a little while ago. I believe he’s in the bar having a cuppa.”

Donna turned to look behind her. There was a man sitting in an armchair near the fireplace, facing the lobby. He was reading a newspaper. Donna guessed by the full head of silver hair and slim build that it was Timothy Cumberbatch.

_No. This can’t be happening to me. What did I do to deserve this? Benedict never mentioned his father was coming. Tim must have come up from London on a whim to surprise Benedict! I wonder if his mother is also here. Wait! I thought he said she was going away for a couple of weeks to film. Unless she’s done with her part. He didn’t say anything more about it except she was up in Yorkshire. Oh, this is just awful!_

“If you’ll just give me the key, I’ll go up to the room and leave my things before I come down to greet him. I must look like a mess from traveling,” said Donna.

“I know what you mean about traveling. Well, I don’t have an extra key to give you, Love; but I’ll have Harry bring you up and let you in.”

_That was easier than expected. I didn’t even have to offer her a bribe. After all, I did know Benedict’s name and what room number he was in. It was probably the photo that convinced her. I’ll go up and unpack and worry about what to do now that Tim’s in the mix._

 

_*************************************************************_

 

Timothy Carlton sat on the chair beside the window of his room and watched the rain begin to fall. He picked up his mobile and rang his wife.

“ _Tim! Finally! It’s so good to actually hear your voice in person,”_ exclaimed Wanda. _“I’ve missed you terribly.”_

“And I you, Darling. We keep missing each other.”

“ _The mobile service is just complete rubbish up here,”_ said Wanda. _“That’s why I’ve had to resort to using the bloody landline. I’ve been leaving messages at the flat. Aren’t you ever home?”_

_Oh. The answerphone. Totally forgot to check it this morning. My bad._

“All your messages have been rather brief...going to set. Coming back from set late...going to dinner...going to bed early. I’m not quite as fond of phone tag as you seem to be.”

“ _Our schedules haven’t exactly been compatible,"_ said Wanda sadly. _  
_

“You got my message that I decided to take a drive up to Crestwood yes?”

“What a grand idea it was to surprise Benedict! What did he say?”

“Well, he didn’t say anything as he’s not returned yet. I’m in a nice double room just down the hallway from him.”

“ _I thought the production had booked the whole inn?”_

“I just happened to nab the only vacant room.”

“ _It’s a double you say?”_

“Yes. It’s just the type of room you’d approve of. I feel like I’m home in Gloucestershire, but without the barn owls for company. Low ceilings, so I can practice my stoop. The en suite is very clean and has a nice soaker tub, which I’d probably need help getting out of. There’s a small fridge and coffee maker. The bed seems quite comfy. Wish you were able to be here to share it with me.”

“ _You’re about to get very lucky Mr. Cumberbatch because Joss and I are driving over to Crestwood now. We’ve booked rooms at a place called the Copper Ball Inn, which looks to be a short walk from where you are.”_

“Really? You’re coming, too? Does Ben know?” Timothy asked happily.

Wanda laughed _. “Yes, and you would have known had you bothered to listen to the last message I left on the answerphone. We wanted to surprise him. Originally, Adam and Alice were also coming; but the baby’s a bit under the weather so they stayed behind.”_

“Sorry to hear about Jonathan. It’s best they stay at their hotel. However, I’m tickled pink that you and Joss are coming! You need to cancel your room at the Copper Ball. I’m in Room 15. It’s on the second floor, up some creaky old stairs. Ring me as soon as you get near, and I’ll give Joss directions. We can all have dinner with Benedict. I’ll just add on another person to my booking.”

“ _I’ve already got a dinner booking for the restaurant in your inn,”_ said Wanda. _“It’s for half seven under Ventham for six.”_

Timothy laughed. “And I’ve got one for two under Cumberbatch. I’ll go downstairs and sort it all out. Maybe I’ll just hang out in the lobby and have a cuppa while I wait for you and Joss.”

“ _Jolly good then. Joss is looking forward to having a proper catch up with you. Hope to see you soon, my Love!”_

“Cheers, Darling.”

Timothy Carlton picked up the newspaper he had brought with him and headed downstairs. He winced as his back began to protest the climb down.

_Too bad they don’t have a lift, but who am I to question the authentic restoration of the place.  They've got every other modern convenience, so one would think they could have added a lift somewhere. Oh well.  My back isn’t very happy with this long flight of stairs to climb. I’ll just minimize the trips I make._

He proceeded to the restaurant and was able to easily change the dinner booking. Then Timothy ordered a pot of Darjeeling tea, so he could sit by the fireplace and read his paper. Timothy picked an overstuffed armchair, facing the lobby so he could see Benedict when he came in.

_I’m so glad Wanda’s coming. I truly did miss her company – and Benedict’s. I guess I’m not cut out to live the bachelor life anymore. I’m too used to having companionship - even if my companions do drive me crazy at times._

The barkeep brought Timothy his tea and a plate of complimentary, freshly baked, toasted coconut biscuits to nibble on. He poured Timothy’s first cup of tea and returned to the bar. The tea was brewed just right and the crispy biscuits were the perfect accompaniment.

_Ah! This is so relaxing. I hope I don’t fall asleep. I’d better read my paper to try and stay awake._

As Timothy set down his cup and saucer, he watched in surprise as Donna Saint James walked into the lobby, wheeling a small overnight bag behind her.

_What the fuck? Am I seeing things or is that Donna Saint James?_

Timothy watched in disbelief as Donna walked up to the front desk and began a conversation with the clerk.

_What in the hell is she doing her? I don’t see Jimmy Rhodes in tow...unless he’s parking the car. I best revert to spy mode,_ thought Timothy as he picked up his newspaper and peeked around it. _I have to take care not to let her see me._

Donna continued speaking with the clerk and pulled out her mobile. She appeared to be searching for something on it.

_If she were here with Jimmy, he’d definitely be inside by now. He also would never have allowed Donna to take care of her own bag...unless she had more than one bag. Then he’d be a bit longer._

Timothy watched as Donna showed the woman behind the front desk something on her mobile. Then they chatted for a bit more. Suddenly, Timothy saw Donna begin to look around her in a panic; and he quickly angled his paper so his face was totally obscured.

_This feels just like old times. I think part of me actually misses it. I certainly miss all the nice meals and snacks I was able to have during the interview process. I wonder who or what Donna was looking for? The restaurant? I doubt it. She looked upset to me. Christ! Is it my imagination or was she looking for me? I wonder if that woman told her I was also checked in? Now, I’m getting paranoid. The woman would have no reason to tell her that...unless Donna is here to see Benedict._

Timothy risked taking a quick peek around his paper just in time to see Donna turn to face the desk clerk again. Then Harry, who doubled as a bellhop, took Donna’s luggage and led her up the stairs to the second floor. Timothy could see he was carrying a room key attached to a large fob, just like the one he had been given. He put down the paper and drank some tea.

_I think that settles the question as to whether she was here with Rhodes. She’s alone. Then again, he could be coming up later on...though I seriously doubt it. For fuck’s sake! I’m waffling like Benedict...it must be contagious. She’s definitely alone. The question is why?_

Timothy munched on another biscuit and considered the situation carefully before retrieving his mobile from his pocket and placed a call.

“ _Tim!”_ came Wanda’s voice from the other end. _“I was just about to call you.”_

“Why? Are you almost here? I’m having a cuppa in the lobby and some delicious little coconut biscuits.”

“ _No. We’re making rather slow progress due to the rain,”_ she said miserably. _"Joss has to take it easy on these winding country roads. I_ _have no idea what time we’re going to arrive at this point.”_

“Not to worry, Commander. I will be here, holding down the fort until you arrive. No enemy agent will get past me without a proper interrogation.”

“ _For fucks sake! What are you talking about?”_

“Watch what you say, Pet. Joss is sitting right beside you. You don’t want him to know what you’ve – we’ve – been up to in our spare time,” cautioned Timothy. “It’s not something I’m particularly proud of.”

“ _Neither am I. So, how’s the weather there?”_

“Gloomy, outside and _inside_. Now, listen carefully to what I have to say and don’t react. I need you to use those glorious acting skills of yours, and I have confidence that you will rise to the challenge.”

“ _Fine. Go ahead.”_

“Donna Saint James just walked into the lobby with an overnight bag. At first, I thought she was here on holiday with Jimmy Rhodes, but she’s definitely alone.”

“ _Really? How interesting!”_ said Wanda pleasantly. “ _We’ll be sure to see that tomorrow – oh, Joss, Tim was just telling me about the little farm the Blackberry Bramble has behind their garden. You can tour their hen house and barn.”_

“ _Sounds fascinating. It’s a pity Jonathan couldn’t be here,”_ commented Joss from the driver's seat. _“At least we know our food is the freshest it can be.”_

“Brilliant job, Wanda," snapped Timothy. "It's a pity the Blackberry Bramble Inn doesn’t have a farm, but we’ll improvise if it comes up. Keep pretending that I’m chatting with you about the inn.”

“ _Oh, yes, Joss and I are looking forward to dinner. We’re both famished.”_

Timothy could hear Joss in the background, agreeing with Wanda.

“Now, the question is why is she here?”

“ _A whole slew of possibilities just went through my mind...they have such an interesting menu.”_

“At first, I thought she and Jimmy Rhodes had come up to spend the evening with Ben, which makes perfect sense given they always like to get together for their birthdays. However, being he isn’t here – the question then becomes why is she here alone?”

“ _Work? I read their stuffed goose takes hours to make – a lot of work goes into it.”_

“ _It sounds like Christmas dinner,”_ commented Joss. _“Now, if only they had a proper Christmas pudding on the menu.”_

_"I'm torn between the pork and goose myself," added Wanda._

Timothy shook his head and rolled his eyes as he listened to his wife and Joss Ackland prattle on about the menu as if he weren't on the phone.

_They must have looked up the menu on Wanda’s mobile._ _I hope Joss doesn’t go looking for information on their non-existent farm once he gets to his room._

"Wanda?  Did you forget I'm still on the line?  Please stop jabbering about the fucking food!"

_"Sod off, Tim!  And I mean that in the nicest possible way."_

_No she doesn't. I offended her. Best to soldier on and forget about it._

“Then, I considered the possibility that the Tribune sent her up here to do a review – sometimes food critics do special articles on short holiday trips and whatnot. She would have to review a few places. Anyway, I dismissed that option.”

“ _I don’t know why not. That seems entirely logical to me.”_

“I beg to differ Mrs. Spock. I think the little tart is two-timing Jimmy Rhodes and came up here to be with our son.”

Wanda began to sputter and cough, and Joss asked her if she were alright. Timothy heard her respond that she had a tickle in her throat and could use some water.

“ _Hi, Tim,”_ came Joss’ voice. _“Wanda’s got a coughing fit, so I’m just pulling into a petrol station to get her some water while I get some more petrol. She’ll ring you right back.”_

“Thanks, Joss,” said Timothy as he rang off.

 

 

*************************************************************

 

“Here we are, Miss. Enjoy your stay,” said Harry, the assistant front desk clerk, as he unlocked the door to Benedict’s room for Donna.

Donna thanked Harry and gave him a tip as he had insisted on carrying her bag up the stairs. Once she had closed and locked the door behind him, Donna surveyed the room. The ceilings were definitely on the low side and the wide-planked oak floors were appropriately weathered-looking. There was a large area rug under the double brass bed, which was covered in a multi-colored patchwork quilt that hung over a cream-colored dust ruffle. There were four pillows on the bed covered in matching shams. There was a small dresser, two matching wooden bedside tables, a desk and ergonomic chair. There was a comfortable-looking arm chair by the window, which had a view of the inn’s back garden. 

_This room is nice and cozy. Just perfect for a romantic interlude in spite of the clutter Benedict obviously left all over. Good God!_

Donna switched on the flat-screen TV and surfed the channels until she found a weather forecast.

_Hmmmm…rain turning heavy tonight. Then clearing tomorrow_.

She hoisted her bag up onto the bed and began to unpack. Once everything was out, Donna opened the double doors to the large, free-standing closet. Some of Benedict’s clothes were neatly hung up, while others were hung up haphazardly. There was a pair of black leather lace-up shoes on the floor of the closet that were still tied. There were two extra pillows on the shelf along with a neatly folded extra blanket. Unfortunately, there were no extra hangers.

_Good thing I thought to bring along my own hangers._

Donna inspected the bedside tables. The one on the right, which held the clock/radio and phone also had a box of tissues. She opened the drawer to find bottles containing Panadol, aspirin and multivitamins along with a box of open condoms and some charge slips. The table on the left was topped with the TV remote, a framed photo of herself, the birthday card that was in the gift basket and what Donna guessed was the current book Benedict was reading before going to sleep. It was a biography of Vincent Van Gogh.

_Oh, gosh! He’s got my photo by his bed. How sweet is that?_

Inside the drawer was a phone directory, a Nivea lip balm and a tin of Benedict’s favorite chocolate mints.

_I can stash my condoms and the lube in here. Though he probably prefers the brand he bought. Now, where can I put my undies?_

Next, Donna opened the top dresser drawer, which contained Benedict’s socks and underwear all mixed together.

_Okay.  He doesn't believe in folding anything.  Just tosses everything into the drawer._

Donna quickly sorted the underwear from the socks and made two neat piles. She decided to take a minute to examine his underwear closely.

_So Benedict wears cotton boxer briefs...lets see.... he’s got gray ones, white ones....they’re the kind that cling. Nice. He doesn’t appear to wear undershirts. I would have thought him the type, since he’s always cold. Black socks...look at these gray ones with the multi-colored polka dots! These blue ones have orange stripes. The man definitely likes colorful socks...OH! Here’s the owl socks with the umbrellas! My favorites. I think I’ll slip my other surprise right in here next to his other socks._

Donna put Benedict's underwear and socks back in the drawer on one side,so that she was able to put her own beside his. Then Donna went to her suitcase and removed a pair of navy blue socks that had owls clad in yellow and orange party hats among a confetti-sprinkled background with little birthday cakes scattered here and there.  She put them on top of Benedict's other socks.

_There! Perfect! Let him see his mom’s not the only one with a sense of humor! I’ll put my chemise and robe in the bottom drawer._

Donna could barely get the bottom drawer open. It was stuffed with pajamas and T-shirts, none of which were folded. She grimaced as she shut the drawer and squeezed her things in the one above.

There was no room to put her empty suitcase, so Donna peeked under the bed. There she found Benedict’s empty suitcase, and placed hers beside his.

Next Donna looked for a spot to place her handbag and cosmetic bag. His laptop was set up on the desk, along with three books, a notebook and various markers and pens in addition to the remnants of her breakfast gift basket. A pair of worn jeans with holes in the knees and an old orange T-shirt were carelessly thrown over the back of the desk chair. Underneath the chair was the laptop case, a battery charger, extra cables, a pair of brown, slip on corduroy slippers and brown suede brogues with the laces still tied.

_Someone likes to toe his shoes off. I better not touch Benedict’s workspace or these clothes as much as I want to hang them up....he may want to wear them tonight or tomorrow. I’ll just use the dresser top...if I can find an empty space. Jeez, he really believes in spreading out._

The top of the dresser was littered with two newspapers, more books and what appeared to be two scripts – one for _The_ _Turning Point_ and one for _Wreckers_. Donna stacked the books and the scripts to make some space for herself.

_Getting there. Gosh, he’s got stuff all over the place. I don’t know where to turn._

There was a small plastic tray containing plastic-wrapped cold drink cups, an ice bucket and two china coffee mugs along with packets of coffee, tea and a variety of sweeteners. There was a small plastic container holding individual packets of demerara sugar. Donna turned to look for a spot to move the tray.

_Hmmm...out of room. Guess that will have to stay here. She took her handbag off the bed and dropped it on the seat of the desk chair. Then she surveyed the room. That’s as good as it’s going to get._ _Let me check out the bathroom_.

Donna turned on the light and entered the small, white tiled bathroom. It had a combination shower/soaking tub, toilet and small sink with a shelf above it. There lay an open shaving kit on the shelf along with various toiletries that Benedict had left out. There was a can of shaving cream, a packet of disposable razors, an uncapped tube of toothpaste, a blue toothbrush sitting on top of a travel holder, a bottle of uncapped mouthwash, dental floss and a hairbrush with a small comb stuck in the bristles.

There was also a medicine cabinet hidden behind the wall mirror.

_Dare do I look? Sure, why not...I need to know what I’m going to be dealing with. I may also be able to put my stuff in here being he likes to leave his all out._

Inside Donna found makeup remover packets, liquid cleanser, toner, moisturizer, cotton balls, cotton swabs, Nivea hand cream, a nail clipper, three bottles of water and a small bottle of Attimo cologne by Salvatore Ferragamo.

_I guess he needs this stuff to remove his make up after filming. Haven’t a clue what the water’s for. I’ll just work out of my cosmetic bag._

There was a blue terry cloth bathrobe, a pair of gray and blue striped sleep pants and a gray v-necked T-shirt hung over a hook on the back of the door.

_As tempted as I am to hang those up, I will just leave them be. I’ve done enough snooping that I shouldn’t have done in the first place. To be fair he had no idea he was going to have company tonight, so I shouldn’t fault him for having his stuff all over. I think I’ll take a bath so I’m nice and fresh for tonight. Hmmm...there are barely enough towels for me.  I'll have to call down and get more after I'm done.  
_

Donna helped herself to the fresh towels and noted that Benedict had his own brand of shampoo and conditioner on the shelf beside the ones the inn had provided. She opened one of the inn's and took a whiff.

_Ooooo...basil and orange.  They have coordinating body wash and lotion, too.  I think I'll use these._   _Let me get my robe._

Donna’s cellphone began to ring as she left the bathroom. To her delight it was Benedict.

“Hello!”

“ _Hi Donna! Did you get my message?”_

“Yes. I’m sorry that the filming ran longer than anticipated. I know you were looking forward to having some free time. Are you done now?”

“ _Yeah. Finally. The motorbike broke down, so they had to get a mechanic to repair it. It wasn’t a total wash. At least we beat the rain, which was the goal. Someone found out it was my birthday, so they had a cake for me on set during a break. Tonight the cast and crew are getting together for dinner, so that will be fun.”_

_NOOOOO! You can’t have dinner with the cast and crew! You have to have dinner with me! Oh, shit...let us not forget that your father is sitting downstairs in the bar area. The best laid plans. Always something!_

Donna did her best to sound enthusiastic.  “Oh, that’s so nice, Benedict! I’m glad you won’t be alone tonight. There’s nothing worse than being away from your family and friends on your birthday.”

_If he were expecting Tim, now would be the perfect opening for him to tell me._

“ _It’ll be fine. I get along well with everyone. Now, don’t worry, Love. I’ll make sure to be back in the room at a decent hour...I haven’t forgotten our ‘Skype date’,”_ he chuckled _._

_Okay. He has no idea Tim is here. He’s going to surprise Benedict, too. What am I going to do?_

“Where are you now, Ben?”

“ _On the van heading back to the inn. I’ll have just enough time to shower and change before I have to meet up with everyone for dinner. We’re just going downstairs – the inn has a terrific restaurant. You’d love it.”_

_Yes. From every thing I’ve read they do, and that’s where we’re supposed to go. ALONE!  Damn, damn, damn!_

“Are you far from the inn?”

“ _Erm....maybe fifteen or twenty minutes...not far. We can’t go very fast on these narrow roads due to the rain. Why?”_

_Shit. Because I’m going to have to rush now. Oh, well. Time to regroup. I can handle whatever he throws at me.  I was a Girl Scout after all - always be prepared.  
_

“Just asking. I was going to take a bath and was wondering if we’d have time to chat once you got back to your room.”

“ _Why? Did you want to Skype chat with me while you’re in the bath?”_ Benedict asked hopefully.

_No, I want to be in the bath with you....after I give you your rain check, and you return the favor; but now your father is here and that’s going to be a fucking game-changer._

Donna laughed. “No, I meant afterwards. Before I have to go out.”

“ _Where are you going?”_

“Out to dinner.”

“ _For work or pleasure?”_

_Oh Barrister Ben is still alive and well_.... _Hmmm...it all depends on you, my dear...and how long I can keep my mouth open before my jaw begins to ache. I have no idea how long you will last._

“I’d say definitely pleasure.”

Benedict chuckled. _“Well, you’ve got me.”_

_Not yet, but I will!_

“ _I’ll try and ring you back as soon as I get out of the shower.”_

“Sounds like a plan,” said Donna with a smug smile as she hung up.

_I’d better change that dinner reservation to seven thirty. Being he’s always late. It’ll give us time to have a drink at the bar in front of the fire. Maybe I should change it to three....Tim obviously is planning to have dinner with Benedict, too. Whether my honey likes it or not, it’s time to officially meet the family. There is no way out of this pickle._

Donna picked up the room phone and called the restaurant, but the line was busy. She waited five minutes and tried again with no luck. She hung up the handset in disgust.

_Good gravy! I’ll have to try again after I get dressed._

With that Donna Saint James quickly gathered up her things and headed into the bathroom, wishing that love were the only thing on her mind.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. C’est un secret, mon chere = That is a secret, my dear.  
> Je déteste les secrets = I hate secrets
> 
> 2\. This was a difficult chapter to write, so apologies for any inconsistencies in plot line. 
> 
> 3\. I’ve decided to use the words “Inn” and “Hotel” interchangeably.


	62. Chapter 62

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanda and Timothy have a waffling conversation that leads them to do an about face. Both Donna and Benedict get surprised. 
> 
> Note: I’m using ******** to depict things happening at the same time.

Wanda Ventham sat in the van while Joss Ackland returned with a bottle of water for her and a cup of coffee for himself.

 “Here you are, Wanda. At least we’re under cover. Before we leave I’m going to have the mechanic look at the back left tyre. It looks a bit low to me. I’ll be right back.” 

“Thank you, Joss,” said Wanda as she took the beverages from him. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

 _Hells bells! Why? Well, better to check it rather than get a flat on the road on a night like this. I’ll ring back Timothy in the meantime._

Wanda didn’t have to wait long for Timothy to answer his mobile. 

 _“Greetings, Mrs. Spock. Are you alone?”_  

“Yes. For a few minutes anyway. Joss thinks one of the tyres is low, so he’s having the pressure checked,” replied Wanda as she uncapped and sipped her water.

_“Glad to hear he’s being cautious. Tonight is not the night to take any chances with this bloody awful weather.”_

 “I’ve been thinking about our conversation.”

  _She’s thinking...this will undoubtedly be bad,_ thought Timothy.

 “Donna Saint James can’t possibly be there to have a rendezvous with Benedict. Number one, she’s seeing Jimmy Rhodes. Number two, she didn’t spend all that much time with Benedict. Number three, you heard her with your own ears – she has no bloody interest in Benedict....shall I go on?”

" _There’s more?”_  

“Yes! Number....what number was I up to?” 

 _“Four.”_  

“Number four, Benedict already has a bird – we heard the words come forth from his own lips. Number five, it makes perfect sense that she’s here for work - I think its just a coincidence that they wound up at the same inn.” 

 _“Says you.”_  

“Says me! I sense stropiness from you, Timothy.” 

 _“Yes, you most certainly do, Wanda.”_  

“Tim, I _really_ think you’re jumping to conclusions. According to you, that’s _my_ job,” she teased. 

 _“Might I remind you of that afternoon at the Cabin Pressure recording. The pink lipstick on your son’s lips just happened to be the same shade as that little tart’s. Not to mention that she was wearing his cardigan in the studio and snogging Jimmy Rhodes? Have you forgotten all that?”_  

Wanda rolled her eyes. “I wish you could see me." 

 _"Why?"_  

"Because I'm rolling my eyes in frustration. They weren’t snogging, Tim.” 

 _“Fine! They were cuddling...Rhodes had his arm wrapped around her shoulders for the first show like he was afraid she was going to get away from him. You were there! You and Una both saw it.”_  

“And what of it? They keep that studio just short of frigid. She was probably chilly, and Ben lent her his cardigan because Jimmy didn’t have one.” 

 _“How do you explain the lipstick stains on your son’s lips, Miss Marple?”_  

 _Hmmm…he’s got me there. That is a good and valid question._  

“I can’t,” replied Wanda sadly. “Unless she was thanking Ben for the cardigan.” 

 _“That was a pretty enthusiastic thank you then,”_ scoffed Timothy. 

“Why would Ben suddenly take a fancy to her when he’s already got a bird?” 

 _“Now, I know you may not want to hear this...but it is possible that Benedict’s head was turned by her – you know – love at first sight.”_  

“That’s rubbish! Ben would _never_ cheat on someone he was with. He never cheated on Olivia – even during the times they weren’t together.” 

_“Ummm…I hate to break this to you; but Benedict did date other women while he and Olivia were – as they used to put it – taking a break from each other. It wasn’t a secret that they both dated others during their estrangement periods. He’s told me so himself.”_

 “I find it hard to believe that Ben would stray.” 

_“There’s a first time for everything, Wanda. Never say never. Allow me to take you down memory lane and point out that we got together while you were still married to Tabernacle.”_

Wanda sighed. “You know full well that my marriage was falling apart when we met. You and I just clicked and got together.” 

Timothy laughed. _“It was more like fireworks than a click, Darling. Who’s to say this didn’t happen to Ben? He’s only human, Wanda. Donna Saint James is a very attractive and personable woman. I could see Benedict succumbing to her charms and her to his. Our son has a lot to offer....”_  

“Of course he does! But again, let me remind you that she definitely said she had no interest in Benedict. They spent a little time together and that was it.” 

 _“We don’t know everything that goes on in his life, Wanda. Did it ever occur to you that your son may have been the pursuer? He changes his mind, contacts Donna; and she becomes smitten with him. Jimmy Rhodes would have her phone number – perhaps Ben found a way to get it from him.”_  

“Not likely. However, Benedict is a regular reader of her weekly column. All he would have to do is contact her at the Tribune either via phone or email.” 

 _“You’ve got a point there.”_  

“I don’t hear those words coming from your mouth.”

 _“They will when you have proven yourself right.”_  

“There have been times when our son has thought with his knob rather than his head, which before you say anything, is none of my business. That what was her name? The one with the long nails, who was overly fond of biting and scratching?” 

 _So chuffed that you’ve recognized that this is none of your business...or mine to be completely fair. How did I get so in over my head?_ thought Timothy.

  _“Beth. Worked in advertising I believe. Only ate pure and healthy food. Used to bring her own water filter around to his flat. Drove Benedict to distraction after less then five dates.”_

 “Yes – Beth. Marking our son like he was her property for fucks sake! She reminded me of a bitch in heat. She might as well had pissed on him too while she was at it!” 

Wanda could hear Timothy roaring with laughter. _“She was a right barmy one. I’m glad they didn’t last long.”_  

Wanda sighed. “Maybe this is one of those one-shot things where they have a torrid one-night fling. Ben will get her out of his system and that will be it.” 

 _“I just don’t care for the way she was flirting with Adam Ackland at the market that Saturday afternoon and cuddling with Jimmy Rhodes at Cabin Pressure the next day! Now, she’s throwing herself at Benedict. Not to mention she’s one of the clumsiest people I dare say I've ever encountered.”_  

“There’s one other thing we haven’t reconsidered, Tim. Perhaps we’ve gotten it all wrong...maybe Donna Saint James _is_ the Barbecoa bird after all.”

  

*************************************************************

  

Benedict Cumberbatch walked into the Blackberry Bramble Inn roughly thirty minutes after speaking with Donna Saint James. The rain was coming down in sheets and the wind had picked up considerably. Luckily, his umbrella didn’t turn inside out in the wind, so Benedict was able to make it inside without getting soaked.    

 The cast and crew stood in the lobby discussing what time to meet for dinner and settled on half seven. Then Benedict went to the front desk to collect the key to his room and was greeted by Harry. 

“Happy Birthday, Mr. Cumberbatch!” said Harry, handing Benedict his room key. “Have a great night!” 

“Erm...thank you, Harry. Word certainly travels fast,” Benedict quipped. 

As he turned to head for the stairs, Benedict found himself face-to-face with his smiling father. 

“Surprise and Happy Birthday, son!” 

“Dad! What a lovely surprise!” exclaimed Benedict, giving his father a bear hug. “Is Mum here, too?” 

 _Don't tell him, Timothy. It's supposed to be a surprise._  

“Just me,” replied Timothy nonchalantly. “I hope I'll do.” 

“Of course you will. This has been an absolutely _brilliant_ birthday,” said Benedict with a huge smile. “I had no idea you were going to do this.”

 “Neither did I until yesterday,” laughed Timothy. “I was sitting around missing you and your mother terribly and thought why the hell not?”

 “I’m so over the moon that you came. Thank you so much.” 

“I’ve got us a booking for dinner here for us to celebrate. I hope you didn’t have any plans.”

 Benedict pursed his lips. “I actually have plans to dine with the cast and crew tonight. It’ll be a large group, and you’re welcome to join us. The food is extraordinary, and I’m sure you’ll have a giggle or two with us. You've even worked with a couple of the cast.”

 “I wouldn’t want to impose, Ben.” 

“It won’t be a problem at all.” 

“Brilliant!” said Timothy. “How about I buy you a drink before dinner then?” 

“I’d love one, but I’m feeling so cold and damp right now. I’m going upstairs to take a hot shower and change, then I’ll meet you in the bar.” 

 _Only my son would feel cold in the middle of summer. He'll love that they have the bloody fireplace going for atmosphere in the bar._  

“I’ll be in the bar, by the fireplace, sweating and reading the evening paper.”

 

************************************************************

 

Donna Saint James took a quick look at her reflection in the full-length bathroom mirror. Her black dress fit just right. She liked that the shoes showed off her new nail art. The tiny red roses came out exactly as she had hoped. After piling her hair up in a topknot, she had decided to take it down and wear it loose around her shoulders. 

 _Not bad. I wish I really was this tall. I hope Benedict approves. Now, let me get some ice, so I can put the champagne in it to chill._  

Donna opened the small refrigerator. She removed the small bottle of champagne she had purchased in London and set it on the dresser. 

 _It feels cool, but not cold like it should be. Ice will help._  

Donna picked up the ice bucket and left the room, making sure to keep the swing lock in such a position so as the door wouldn’t close and lock behind her. She took the back stairs down to the ground floor, where the ice machine was located in an alcove to the right of the flight of stairs.

 

*************************************************************

 

Benedict Cumberbatch stopped on the landing at the top of the stairs long enough to fish some change out of his pocket with the intent of getting himself a candy bar to snack on while he changed. He quickly added up what he had found. 

 _I’ve got just enough for an Aero Bar, but I’m too lazy to go back downstairs. I’ll have a piece of fruit instead._  

As Benedict approached his room, he shifted his wet brolly to his left hand so he could unlock the door. He stopped, hand in mid-air, as he realized the door had been propped open with the swing lock. 

 _Bloody hell! Why is my door open? Could they be cleaning the rooms this late in the day? I don’t see the housekeeping cart. Christ, I hope someone didn’t break into my fucking room and steal my laptop!_  

Benedict slowly pushed open the door and looked around. His laptop was still on the desk. He sighed with relief.

  _Be careful, Benedict. There may be someone hiding in the en suite or wardrobe. On second thought the wardrobe is too small for anyone to be in there._  

“Hello?” he called out tentatively. 

There was no answer. 

Benedict quietly and quickly crossed the room to the en suite. The door stood open and the room was empty. 

 _Hmmm...seems rather humid in here...perhaps they did clean the room late. Whatever they use to clean today certainly smells nice...like....I can’t quite place the fragrance. I detect jasmine, orange flower, sandalwood...._  

He flicked the light switch and surveyed the room. There was a pile of used towels neatly folded on the floor of the shower. The waste bin next to the vanity held empty bottles of shampoo, conditioner and body lotion in addition to used facial tissues and cotton buds.

  _Those look like the towels I used this morning. Christ! I don’t remember using them all though. They must have left me less than usual yesterday. The waste bin hasn’t been emptied either. I know I didn't use any of their toiletries. I use my own.  That is very weird. I guess they are in the process of cleaning the motherfucking room._

 

Benedict looked at the towel rack. There was one clean flannel draped over it and a medium-sized towel was neatly folded on the edge of the sink. There was a clean bath mat draped over the side of the bathtub.

  _Shit! I’ve got to get ready, and I could use some more clean towels. Good thing my robe will soak up some of the water. I guess I can make do with this small towel and a flannel. I’ll call the front desk when I’m ready to leave so someone can come up and finish._

Benedict tossed his brolly and messenger bag on the chair by the window and went to the double-door wardrobe. He opened the side closest to him, roughly pushing half of the clothing aside and selecting a pair of black trousers along with a long-sleeved gray top with a cowl neck. Benedict laid the fresh clothing out on the middle of the bed, while toeing off his damp trainers. The trainers along with his socks were then carelessly tossed into the far corner of the wardrobe where they landed on top of Donna’s neatly arranged ones. He picked up the black lace-up dress shoes. He had not noticed Donna’s few pieces of clothing on the other side of the wardrobe that were now crushed by his. 

He undressed and put his clothes in the plastic bag inside the suitcase. As Benedict removed his watch and signet ring to put in the bedside drawer, he noticed that things had been moved around on the dresser across the room. 

 _This room does not look like the way I left it this morning. The maid has definitely been moving my things around. I guess she needed to dust. I hate when people touch my things! What’s this?_  

Benedict picked up the bottle of cool champagne that sat on the dresser beside a box from his favourite chocolatier in London, Alexeeva & Jones in Notting Hill. There also sat a plain white envelope next to the candy box. 

_Management must have found out it was my birthday and sent this up! How absolutely lovely of them. I’ll just put the champagne in the fridge._

 He took the bottle and opened the door to the refrigerator. Inside was one pear and two apples that he had bought, along with some small creamers and a wedge of Stilton cheese. Then his ice blue eyes landed on what appeared to be a small white cake box from the Butterflake Bakery. 

 _What the fuck? Where did this come from?_  

Benedict removed the box and noticed that it was from the same bakery that provided his breakfast basket. He took a peek inside. There was a small chocolate cake big enough for two people with ‘Happy Birthday, Benedict’ written on it in bright blue gel icing. He swiped a bit of the rich, fudge frosting with his finger and sucked it off. Then he took another taste for good measure.

  _Mmmm...delicious! I wonder if Donna ordered this to be sent up? I’ll ring her as soon as I’m dressed. Dad can come back here with me after dinner, and we’ll have the cake and champagne._  

Benedict looked for the “Do Not Disturb” sign to hang on the door handle, but it wasn’t where he left it. After closing the door to the room, he retreated to the en suite to take a shower.

 

*************************************************************

 

Donna Saint James had gone down the back stairway where the ice machine was located. There were also a couple of vending machines selling a variety of soft drinks and snacks. She filled the ice bucket and was about to return to Benedict’s room when she encountered Harry, who had just unlocked a store room beside the alcove. 

“Evening Miss. I neglected to mention that Butterflake Bakery delivered a cake for Mr. Cumberbatch per your instructions. I stashed it the fridge since he was out, because they said it needed to be refrigerated. Did you see it?” 

“Yes! Thank you, Harry. I was wondering if there is anyway you could get me two champagne flutes?” 

“Of course. I’ll collect them from the bar. Have a seat, and I’ll be right back,” he said gesturing to a small settee just outside the alcove. 

“I appreciate your help, Harry,” Donna said. 

“Not a problem, Miss.” 

 

 

Several minutes later, Donna was on her way back upstairs with ice and the glasses. As she approached the room, she noticed that the door was shut. Donna tried the door, but it was locked. 

 _Just what I didn’t need! I know I left it open so this wouldn’t happen. I wonder if one of the housekeepers saw it open and shut it while I was downstairs?  I’ve got to get back in before Benedict gets here. I want everything to be perfect!_  

Donna set down the ice bucket and glasses and dashed down the back stairs and collided into Harry, who had an armload of clean towels. He dropped the pile on the floor. 

“Harry! I’m so, so sorry. Let me help you.” 

The young man shook his head as he and Donna bent down to retrieve the towels. He looked at her questioningly. 

“Anything wrong, Miss? You look upset. Wasn’t Mr. Cumberbatch happy with the cake and champagne?” 

“He’s not here yet, and somehow I got locked out of the room. I need to get back in before he arrives!” 

Harry laughed. “I’m afraid it’s too late for that. He’s already here. I even gave him the room key. You must have missed him while you were down here.” 

“Damn! He was the one who closed the door." 

Donna went back upstairs and knocked briskly on the door.  

"Room service for the birthday boy!" she called out in a cheerful voice.  "Guaranteed _not_ to be your usual room service either!"  she added in a flirtatious tone. 

The door directly across from Benedict's opened just a crack. 

 _OH, Donna.  Why did you say something so suggestive and so loudly?  Whoever is in that room must now think Benedict has a call girl coming to give him a birthday fuck._  

There was no response. 

 _Shit!  I bet he's in the shower and can't hear me!_  

Donna trudged back downstairs and found Harry loading one of the vending machines with candy bars.  He looked at her quizzically.  

"He's left the room already?" 

"I knocked, but there was no answer.  I'm thinking he's in the bathroom and can't here me.  Can you please let me back in?” 

“Of course, Miss. Let me get the master key, and I’ll meet you up there.”

 

*************************************************************

 

Timothy Carlton sat in front of the fireplace, mulling over his wife’s words when his mobile rang. 

“MI6 Crestwood Branch Office. Field Agent Carlton at your service.” 

 _“Very funny, Tim!”_  

Timothy could hear the irritation in Wanda’s voice. 

“You don’t sound like your cheerful, authoritative self, Commander. Have your plans hit a snag?” 

 _“There’s a bit of a problem.”_  

“What’s wrong? There hasn’t been an accident...” 

 _“No! No! Nothing like that. It was a good thing Joss had the tyre looked at. There’s a good-sized bolt in it, and the tyre’s good for rubbish - literally. The mechanic was good enough to get us a replacement, but it looks as if we might miss the dinner. Hopefully, the damn rain will let up soon.”_  

“Not likely, Pet. The rain’s supposed to last all night. Where’s Joss?” 

 _“He’s off ringing Adam to let him know what happened. Why?”_  

“I didn’t feel like speaking in code.” 

 _“I was the one who was speaking in code.”_  

“I still don’t think Donna Saint James is Benedict’s girl. It doesn't make sense.” 

 _“Well the more I think about it. It does! If only....”_  

“Wanda! That girl is a threat to everyone around her, not to mention she’s been throwing herself at anything with a knob.” 

 _“My, isn’t this a switch! I can’t believe how you’ve soured on her, Tim.”_  

“I was totally on board with her, Love, until I saw her batting those eyelashes and flirting with Ackland with my own eyes...” 

_“That doesn’t mean anything. Knowing her, she must have had something in her eye!”_

 “There’s more.”

  _“I’m listening.”_  

“I overheard Harry...” 

 _“Who’s Harry?”_  

“The desk clerk.” 

 _“Is he on all night? I’m going to need a fan in the room if I’m to sleep...”_  

“I have no idea if the desk is manned all night, but I already took care of getting you a bloody fan!” 

 _“Thank you. I couldn’t bear the thought of not having a fan to cool myself off should my night sweats choose to act up.”_  

“Now that the fan’s been sorted to your liking, Commander.....” 

 _“Don’t be stropy, Tim. I’d like to see you deal with post menopausal night sweats.”_  

 _I do, Wanda. I wear flannel pajamas to bed even in the fucking summer to counteract your wind-tunnel._  

“I do in my own way – like procuring a fan for your comfort. I consider myself your post menopausal assistant in life.” 

 _“And I appreciate it. The doctor keeps saying they are going to stop, but you can’t tell it by me.”_  

“Just be patient. I’m sure they will calm down at some point. Now then. Do I have permission to finish my sentence, Commander?” 

 _“Go ahead.”_  

“I don't remember what I was going to say!" 

 _"Something about Harry, the front desk clerk."_  

"Christ!  I'm afraid that thought is gone for now.  However, as I said before, Donna Saint James is dating Jimmy Rhodes. He told us himself that day we came across them at the cafe.   Then we – you, me and Una - witnessed them together at Cabin Pressure. She’s also been caught openly flirting with Adam Ackland by yours truly. She’s met Benedict and somehow managed to have some kind of contact with him, hopefully, not the kind that involves their genitals getting together. We’ve got photos to prove this!” 

 _“I know. I must admit the photos are pretty damning evidence.”_  

“We’ve both been injured by her – albeit not intentionally. However, mishaps just seem to follow her around like a little gray cloud.”

 _“Sounds like you’re describing Eeyore,”_ Wanda chuckled. 

“I’m trying to be serious, Wanda.” 

 _“You make a good case, Tim. Everything you’ve said is true. I never thought I’d say this...but I hope she’s not the Barbecoa bird.”_  

“And now for the piece de resistance! Not only is Donna here, but she’s also staying in Benedict’s room!” 

 _“Oh, for fuck’s sake! Did cocktail hour start early? You’re really trying to stretch your imagination. How in the hell would you know that without asking the front desk? Did you.....ask?”_  

 _You wouldn't have hesitated, Wanda; but I still have some pride left._  

“Heavens, no! They can’t give out that kind of information, not to mention it could get back to Benedict that I was inquiring. Besides, they know I’m his father, so that would seem very strange. What I meant is that I have a very strong feeling that she’s up there with him. I’d also like to remind you that my hunches are usually right.”

 _“Except the time in Monte Carlo when you insisted that your hunch about twenty-seven coming up on the roulette wheel was right,”_ laughed Wanda. _“How much did you lose that night?”_  

Timothy also started to laugh at the memory. “Enough to cause me to shy away from roulette to this day. Getting back to the topic at hand - ten quid says that I’m right.” 

 _“You’re on. Now, what is this strong feeling based on, Agent Carlton?”_  

“When I changed our dinner booking, I noticed that there was a booking for two under the name of Saint James on the computer screen.” 

 _“Blimey, that was the easiest money I've ever made. You can give me the tenner when you see me. That’s not proof!”_  

“Not so fast, Commander. I’ve got a plan.” 

Wanda laughed. _“Hells bells, Timothy Cumberbatch! You’re starting to sound like me.”_  

 _And think like you, which is the really terrifying part of all this._  

“I’ve been waiting an awfully long time for him to come down to dinner ...”

  _“Love, this is Benedict we’re talking about. He’s just lost track of the time is all. There’s nothing unusual about that!”_  

“No. Usually there isn’t. However, factoring in his own warped idea of being on time - he’s taking even longer then when he’s running late.” 

 _“And? Do you think she’s up there trying to seduce our son as we speak?”_  

“Yes, I most certainly do. He promised to shower and come right down so we could have a drink in the bar before dinner. I just tried his mobile, and he’s turned it off – it went right to voice mail.”

 _“What about the room phone?”_  

“I’m already a step ahead of you, Commander. Line’s been constantly engaged, so he must have it off the hook. My plan is to go up there and simply knock on his door to see if he’s ready. There’s nothing unusual about that given the circumstances. I’m going to catch them, Wanda. Hope you have a tenner on you.” 

 

*************************************************************

  

Joss Ackland returned to the petrol station’s office with a huge smile on his face. 

“The mechanic just finished. It’s time we get back on the road. We should make it by morning,” he laughed. 

“Christ, I hope not!” laughed Wanda. “I’m starting to feel ravenous.” 

“The rain shows no sign of letting up, so we may miss dinner. I’m sorry about that, Wanda.” 

“It’s not your fault. Let’s push on and see what kind of progress we make. We can always stop for a bite.” 

“I'd like to hold off on eating as long as possible – as long as there's hope of arriving while the kitchen is still open, I'd like to give it a try.” 

“Sounds like a good plan,” agreed Wanda. “The thought of eating at any old place isn't very appealing.” 

 _Hmmmm...there are lots of plans tonight,_ thought Wanda Ventham as they walked to the van. _And hopefully, one of them will actually come to fruition._

 

*************************************************************

 

Donna Saint James thanked Harry for letting her back in Benedict’s room and locked the door behind her. She could hear the water running in the shower. 

 _He’s here alright._  

"Benedict!" 

There was no response other than the sound of the running water. 

 _Good!  He can't hear me. I’d better hurry._  

Donna set down the ice bucket and glasses on the dresser. 

 _Where in the hell is the champagne? I bet Benedict put it in the fridge to chill._  

Donna opened the refrigerator. There lie the bottle of champagne on its side, next to the cake box. The lid was partially open. Donna inspected the cake and saw some of the frosting was missing from the side of the cake.

 _DAMN! Not only did he find the cake, but he tasted it!_  

She closed the cake box and was just about to place the champagne bottle in the ice bucket when the shower suddenly stopped. Donna dropped the bottle on the floor. Luckily, it didn’t break. She shoved it in the ice. 

_He’s done, and I’m not ready yet! Okay...where should I hide?_

 Donna pulled out the desk chair and looked under the desk. 

_Jesus! He’s got shoes under the desk...and another small suitcase. That won’t work and I’d get all messed up._

 She dashed across the room to the wardrobe and flung open the doors. 

 _Eeeeekkkkkk!   My clothes! He pushed everything to one side! I bet everything is wrinkled._  

Her eye caught his sneakers on top of hers. She picked them up and put them to the side. 

 _Jesus Christ! He put his damn wet sneakers on top of mine – with the frigging damp socks still in them. Get your ass in the closet, Donna!_

The bathroom door opened, and Donna squeezed herself into the closet and pulled the door shut, leaving just a crack she could peer out of. 

 _Okay, Donna, you dumb ass. Now that you’re in the closet, should you jump out and give him a heart attack or wait like a creepy stalker and see if he goes back in the bathroom? This was not one of my brighter ideas._  

She watched through the crack in the door as Benedict came out of the bathroom totally nude and went to the dresser, his back to her. She covered her mouth to keep from gasping. 

 _Oh my, oh my! Maybe this wasn’t such a dumb idea after all. Wow! Look at him! I never tire of seeing him without clothes. He’s so lean, yet very fit and toned...I've already seen most of him naked, but now's my chance to see the parts I missed . This is a better view than I had going up his stairs. I could seriously jump on him now. Good Lord – if he were to catch me now, I’d really feel like a jerk....standing in his closet and ogling him._

Benedict had opened the box of chocolates and popped one of the dark chocolate champagne truffles into his mouth. He rolled his eyes as his teeth broke through the rich, dark chocolate shell, releasing the creamy, champagne-flavoured ganache inside. 

“Mmmmmmm.” He said aloud, opening the drawer. “Sooo decadent…” 

 _Shit! He’s going to see my underwear! No...wait...he’s too busy looking at what’s in the candy box. That’s my Benedict – it’s all about the chocolate. Ha ha ha!_  

Donna held her breath as Benedict’s hand rummaged around in the drawer and absently pulled out a pair of her dusty rose, lace trimmed bikini panties, while he concentrated on the selection of chocolates in the box. Donna watched in dread as he abruptly turned to look at what was in his hand. 

 _That’s it! I’m busted now. I guess I might as well just come out._  

Benedict looked at the pair of lacy knickers he had pulled from his drawer. 

 _Bloody hell! Where in the fuck did these come from? They’re certainly not mine!_  

To Donna’s horror, Benedict opened the drawer all the way and began to take out her under garments, including the corset and matching panties. He examined each one carefully. 

“For fucks sake!” exclaimed Benedict out loud. “First, the bloody door gets left open, then they hide the motherfucking do-not-disturb sign, then all my things get moved around, they don’t replace all the damn towels…this is fucking ridiculous!” 

 _Oh, oh. He’s pissed off. The best laid plans to get laid...foiled again! There must be a conspiracy working against us. I have a feeling he’s not going to be happy when he sees me, and realizes I’m at the root of all this._  

Donna watched helplessly as Benedict balled up her undergarments and tossed them in the rubbish bin beside the desk. 

 _This has to be one of Adam’s practical jokes. Well done him. I have no idea how the wanker managed to do this from Yorkshire. He had to have had help._

_No, no nooooo! Don’t do that you crazy man! I paid a lot for those panties and bras!!! OH, shit – the corset, too! To be fair though he has no idea they’re mine._  

Donna watched as Benedict picked up his cellphone and made a call. There was a frown on his handsome face as he waited for whoever he called to answer. 

“Fucking voice mail!” he growled, plopping down on the edge of the bed with his back still to her. 

Donna held her breath as she waited. 

“Hi Adam! I found your _lovely_ birthday surprises,” he began sarcastically. “Very, very funny, mate. I don’t know how you managed to pull this off, you right bastard; but rest assured that _your_ birthday is coming around again, and I plan to top this stunt! Is my Dad in on it too or do you have a friend in the cast who you talked into helping you? You know…..”

 Benedict sighed with extreme annoyance and suddenly stopped talking. He made another call. 

“You’re motherfucking voice mail cut me off!” he bellowed. 

 _I love how indignant he is that his message got cut off. That’s because your messages are too long, my dear. Not to mention your overly long texts and emails with the War and Peace-like subjects._  

“You know, Adam, it doesn’t _really_ matter to me who you were in cahoots with – on second thought was it Mark or Dennis? Or David maybe? Wait – I bet it was Jesse. He loves a good practical joke. I doubt it was Jimmy...though I could see him going out to buy the lingerie. Actually, this seems more like Dennis’ taste in knickers....” 

Donna watched as he shook his head and punched the mattress with a fist. 

“Bloody, motherfucking hell! Why don’t they have unlimited memory in these damn mobiles??” 

_I’m guessing the voice mail told him his time was up again! Somehow I don’t think that will stop him from calling back to finish what he has to say. Lord knows, that hasn’t happened with me yet. He keeps calling back until he’s done. I think his record was ten messages in a row._

 Benedict called Adam back one last time to finish his message. 

“It’s me again. Anyway, I suppose I should thank you for thinking of me today. I also got the card and your message this morning. We’ll talk tomorrow when I’m feeling less stropy. Cheers.” 

 _He thinks his best friend arranged to make the room look like this when it was me! Okay. I’ll let Adam take the blame for now._  

Donna watched as Benedict switched off his cell phone and stood up. He turned towards her, so his entire package was in full view as he came around the bed to where the closet was and picked up the room phone. He called the front desk to ask that they send someone up to finish cleaning the room in an hour. 

 _Oh my! I’ve been dying to see this! Hmmm...he seems to have nice round-looking balls. At least he doesn’t shave or wax anything. I hated when Michael shaved everything off – what did he call it? Oh, yes – man-scaping. Jesus. I want my man to look like a man. It seems to be a bit larger than average-looking sack – like I would know given my not-so- vast wealth of experience...but compared to the others he is. Wait. What the fuck is this? What’s wrong with his penis? I don’t see the head! It doesn’t look right…it looks almost carrot shaped._  

Then her sister, Carly’s, words came rushing back to her from their conversation that morning: 

 _“Donna, I just thought of something. You may not be aware of this; but should you and Benedict wind up having sex, don’t be surprised if you find he’s not circumcised.”_

_“Why wouldn’t he be?”_

_“Because the majority of men in Europe aren’t – that’s the custom.”_  

_“Do you really think so?”_

_“I’m willing to bet dinner at the Sketch that he isn’t – that’s how sure I am.”_

  

Benedict returned to the dresser and pulled on a pair of gray cotton boxer briefs and looked at his face in the mirror and rubbed his chin as if checking for stubble. He returned to the bathroom, and Donna heard the sound of shaving cream being dispensed and the trickle of water in the bathroom sink. 

 _Thank goodness - he’s shaving. He’s also not circumcised. I owe Carly dinner. I’ve read it’s not really a big deal, and I shouldn’t be able to tell any difference once he’s inside me. It’s just not what I’m used to seeing. Okay, Donna, one thing at a time. Get out of the fucking closet. He can’t see you from the bathroom as long as you stay on this side of the room. Set the mood and worry about handling his foreskin later._  

Donna stepped out of the closet and looked down at the bed. Benedict’s clothes were in the middle. Donna quickly took them off and draped them over the desk chair. She could hear the hair dryer switch on. 

 _Excellent! I’ve got another minute or two. I’ll just leave the light on by this side of the bed. Oh, good! This lamp has three settings. I’ll put it on low. Ah, that’s nice and romantic. Just enough light to see each other without the harsh glare. Hmmm…he shut off his cellphone. Let me take the room phone off the hook. I don’t want our reunion to be disturbed by his friend possibly calling back. Oooo I forgot to put my perfume on. Benedict loves my perfume. I’ll put on just a touch since I already used the scented body lotion. There’s no need to smother him in scent._  

Donna picked up her handbag and removed a small bottle of perfume. She dabbed a bit behind her ears, wrists and knees. Then she tossed her handbag towards the seat of the desk chair, missing it completely. She didn’t notice the bag had bounced off and landed in the middle of the floor as she went back and closed the closet doors. 

 _The bed is my only option since he’s got his wet umbrella and shoulder bag drying out on the chair. Where is that man’s head? I would have put the umbrella in the bathtub. Now the chair’s wet. I need to get rid of the comforter so we don’t have to struggle with it later on._  

The sound of Benedict brushing his teeth came from the bathroom. 

 _Good boy!   Take your time! I’m almost done!_  

Donna quickly pulled down the comforter halfway and took the pillows out of the shams, propping them up against the brass headboard. Then she reclined on the bed, lying on her side in what she considered an enticing position. 

_Either I look super-sexy this way or like a complete ass. Hopefully, he won’t think the latter and laugh in my face._

 

*************************************************************

 

Benedict finished shaving and drying his hair. He gave his hair a quick brushing back off his face and watched in disgust as it began to curl back onto his forehead. He then brushed his teeth, flossed and rinsed his mouth with mouthwash. 

 _All I have to do is get dressed. I’d better hurry. It’s not fair to let Dad sit down there and wait. He hates drinking alone._  

Benedict rushed out of the bathroom to find all the lights had been turned off in the room except for the lamp by the far side of the bed, which had been dimmed considerably. The smell of Donna’s perfume filled his nostrils immediately. 

 _Muguet, amber, patchoulli...those are the notes I missed before. Don’t tell me someone cleaned the motherfucking room while I was showering, and not only did they not leave towels, but they turned the fucking lights off! Wait...that isn’t the smell of cleaning supplies....that’s Donna’s perfume!_  

It took only a few seconds for his eyes to adjust after the bright light in the bathroom, but he immediately saw that Donna was lying in an extremely sexy pose on his bed. 

“I believe you ordered room service, and I’m here to provide a very special service in honor of your birthday,” she purred in a sexy voice. 

“Donna!” Benedict shouted with a huge smile as he rushed towards her. 

She sat up and held her arms out to him. “Happy Birthday, Benedict!” 

Unfortunately, in his excitement to reach her, Benedict’s foot caught on the handle of her handbag which had inadvertently fallen in his path. He suddenly found himself sprawled face first on the floor and lay on his stomach, momentarily stunned. 

 _Noooo! He’s hurt, and it’s my fault!_ Thought Donna in a panic. _I need to call the front desk!_  

“Benedict! Are you alright!” 

She heard him groan in response from the floor in front on the bed. 

Donna immediately leaped up, her high heel tangling in the comforter as she tried to get off the bed. Before she knew it, she was lying on the floor beside the bed. 

“Damn fucking heels!” Donna spat angrily as she crawled around the side of the bed to find Benedict about to push himself off the floor into a kneeling position. “Are you okay?” 

“Yes. Fine. Are you?” he asked with concern. “It sounded like you fell off the bed.” 

“The heel of my shoe got caught in the comforter. What happened to you? Did you trip?” 

Benedict slowly got to his feet and helped Donna up off the floor. He switched on the desk lamp and looked on the floor behind him. There was Donna’s huge handbag in the middle of the floor. 

 _Oh, no! It must have fallen onto the floor. I could swear it landed on the chair when I threw it. He doesn’t look happy._  

“For fuck’s sake, Donna! Were you trying to kill me?” he asked angrily as he picked up her handbag and slammed it down on the seat of the chair. “You really need to be more careful with this bloody thing or get something smaller to carry around.” 

 _Good grief! I hope he didn’t break my perfume bottle! I don’t have any more! I can only get that in New York!_  

“I’m sorry, Benedict. I was in a hurry to surprise you...” 

“Well done you! You succeeded admirably then. That was quite the surprise.” 

“…and the only thing that makes sense is that I missed the chair when I threw it.” 

“That was a pretty spectacular miss then! Remind me _never_ to play darts with you.” 

“Are you insinuating that I have lousy aim?” 

“Yes.” 

Donna swallowed hard and looked at him. She spread her hands and bit her lip. 

“This wasn’t the way it was supposed to turn out. I only wanted to surprise you when you came back to the room…I didn’t mean to cause you to trip and fall. I fucked up everything…” 

Benedict closed the gap between them and took Donna in his arms. He sighed and kissed the top of her head, as he rubbed her back. 

“No, you didn’t. I adore that you went out of your way to surprise me all day long…the lovely breakfast treats, the sweet little text messages, the cake in the fridge – which by the way has the most delicious frosting.”

 “I’m glad you liked it.” 

“I did. Very much. Can I safely assume that the chocolates and champagne are also your doing?” 

Donna nodded. “You sure can.”

 “I trust all that sexy lingerie in my drawer belongs to you then, yes? Or perhaps that was another gift you intended for me?," he asked with a raised eyebrow. "If so, you'll need to exchange them for a larger size as there isn't a chance in hell that I'd be able to get those knickers over my fat bum...” 

Donna started to laugh.  "Yes, it's all mine.  As long as there’s nothing in that waste basket to soil and ruin it...” 

Benedict hit his forehead with the palm of his hand. 

“Shit!” He quickly retrieved her panties and bras from the waste bin and handed them to her sheepishly. “I’m so sorry. I hadn't a clue these were yours.” 

Donna examined the silky garments carefully. Satisfied that they weren’t ruined, she refolded her underwear and tucked it back in the drawer beside his. 

“It’s okay. I realize you had no idea.” 

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck. “So, do I get to see it later?” 

“Yep. I intend to model it for you after dinner – it’s part of the special service I provide on my boyfriend’s birthday.” 

Benedict chuckled deeply. “Christ! I owe Adam an apology. He’s going to think I’m daft when he listens to those messages.” 

Donna giggled. “I would if I were you. You were pretty nasty when you left those messages.” 

Benedict held her away from him and looked down into her eyes. 

“How do you know about the messages? Were you here in the room?” 

Donna nodded. “In the closet. I wanted to set the scene and surprise you.” 

 _I guess the wardrobe is larger than I thought if she was able to fit in it. OH, wait a minute...._  

He raised his eyebrows at her. “You were watching me when I came out of the bathroom?” 

“Well...yeah. I had to look at something...it’s pretty boring just standing in a closet. I was trying to decide whether to jump out and surprise you or not.” 

“I’m _really_ glad you didn’t opt for jumping out at me. That alone would have given me a heart attack.” 

“That’s why I decided against it. I want you around for a long time.” 

Benedict frowned at her. “I wasn’t dressed.” 

“No. You weren’t. I was pleasantly surprised and enjoyed the view _immensely_.” 

She watched Benedict’s face slowly redden. Then he suddenly smiled smugly at her. 

 _She must have liked what she saw. That’s actually a load off my mind. I was afraid it was going to be like my dream where Jimmy was teasing me about being uncut and Donna possibly being turned off by it._  

“You know what the best surprise was?”

 “What?” 

“Coming out of the bathroom and seeing you on my bed, looking all vampish.” 

Donna looked up at him. “Really?” 

“Really. Now, how about we get comfortable on the bed; and you can give me a proper birthday snog?” he asked, waggling his eyebrows. 

“It’s your birthday, you can have whatever you want,” smiled Donna, as he brought his lips to hers for a tender kiss. 

 _Oh fuck waiting until Cornwall....I want her now. We both tested fine, and I've got plenty of condoms. Tonight. After dinner...she will be my pudding._  

“Mmmmm, that’s what I was hoping you’d say,” said Benedict, his voice suddenly deeper and very seductive. “But I have to warn you - you’re going to find that I can be a _very_ greedy man.”

  _That voice…I can just rip those briefs right off of him now._  

Benedict picked her up bridal style and carried her over to the bed, laying her down in the middle, as he positioned himself next to her. “There is so much that I want,” he breathed, voice even lower.  Then he leaned down to kiss her again, this time with more passion. Donna could taste chocolate and mint on his breath and felt his large hands begin to roam over her body. 

Donna wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down so their bodies were touching. “And there’s so much I want to give you,” she whispered. “I love you, Benedict. I want to give you a _very special_ birthday present.” 

Benedict kissed her again and paused to look deep into her hazel eyes. “And I’m more than ready to receive it.” 

 

 

Timothy Carlton climbed the stairs to the second floor of the Blackberry Bramble Inn. 

 _Benedict’s kept me waiting almost an hour. He’s always late, but this is ridiculous! The cast and crew are all downstairs and ready to go into the restaurant. Except him. Always the last one. He has to be shagging Donna Saint James. It’s the only thing that makes sense._  

As Timothy mounted the last step to the landing, his mobile began to ring.

 _I bet I know who that is._  

He answered the phone without looking at the caller ID.  “Yes, Commander?” 

 _“Well? What happened? I’m dying to know!”_  

“Don’t die on me yet, Wanda. I was on my way to his room now. Where’s Joss?”

  _“The rain is coming down in buckets, so we thought we’d take a break. We're going to have a snack and see if it eases up before continuing. He’s still in the loo. At this rate, I’ll arrive in time to wish Ben a Happy Birthday and go to bed. Tomorrow’s Sunday. Maybe we can all have brunch together.”_  

“I’m not sure if there’s any filming scheduled for tomorrow. He may have to be up early.” 

 _“Please ask when you see him and let me know.”_  

“Will do. I’m just about at his room now, so I’m going to ring off. I’ll report back as soon as I have something to report.” 

 _“Good luck, and I hope you find just him in the room,”_ said Wanda. _“We don’t need him banging someone like Donna Saint James.”_  

“I noticed that you’ve come over to the dark side. What changed your mind?” 

 _“I seriously considered everything you said, and it makes sense....unfortunately. Good luck!”_  

Timothy rang off and approached the door to Benedict’s room. He paused to listen and heard Benedict’s muffled voice and some loud female laughter akin to a shriek in response. 

 _Bloody hell! He’s not alone. Should I do this? Part of me wants to, but another part knows I should just mind my own business. Wanda would have no compunctions about doing this._  

Timothy could hear Benedict’s muffled deep baritone and more female laughter. He sounded as if he were laughing too. 

 _It has to be her. Time to throw caution to the wind and find out._  

Timothy Carlton raised his fist and knocked loudly on the door to Benedict’s room. 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I don’t know the exact details as to how Wanda Ventham and Timothy Carlton got together. It’s been written that they met while Wanda was still married to a business man named James Tabernacle, while her marriage was on the verge of collapsing. Everything else is totally fictitious. 
> 
> 2\. At some hotels in London they ask you to return your room key to the front desk when leaving the premises. This happened at the hotel I stayed at last year. We will pretend that the fictitious Blackberry Bramble Inn practices that.
> 
> 3\. As this plot becomes increasingly harder to keep track of, there may be a lack of continuity for which I apologize.


	63. Chapter 63

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A night of unwelcome surprises for Donna. Benedict begins to question Wanda and Timothy’s behavior. 
> 
> Note: I will be using ******* to indicate things happening at the same time.

 

Benedict Cumberbatch finally broke the kiss he had been enjoying and smiled lazily at Donna Saint James.

“Mmmm...as much as I want to stay here and kiss you all night, I’ve got to get dressed for dinner.”

Donna sat up straight and looked down at her dress in dismay. It had sustained some serious wrinkles resulting from their intense cuddling. She checked the bedside clock

“Jeez! It’s getting late, and I need to iron my dress before we go down to dinner. I made us a dinner reservation downstairs!”

Benedict was in the process of pulling his top over his head and his words were muffled. “Ermmm....we have a bit of a problem that needs sorting out first.”

“Care to repeat that in English?”

Benedict’s head popped out of the neckline. He arranged the top over his chest and hips.

“Don’t be so cheeky, Donna! I said we have a bit of a problem that needs sorting out first.”

“You bet we do!” Donna agreed. “Is there an ironing board and iron in this room? I noticed there wasn’t one when I was in the closet.”

Benedict chuckled with amusement as he adjusted the drawstring in the neckline. He was trying to make up his mind whether or not to tie it or leave the ends hanging.

“Only you would notice something like that while hiding in a wardrobe!”

_Where did he get that ugly top?  
_

Donna gestured to her dress. “I can’t go downstairs looking like I slept in this! Maybe they put the ironing board under the bed? On second thought I only recall seeing luggage under it.” _  
_

_I don't think I'll even ask why she was looking under the bed in the first place. I don't think I need or want to know why._

Benedict had decided to let the ends of the drawstring hang loose. He looked her over and shrugged.

“Haven’t a clue if there even is a bloody ironing board in here, but I don’t think you look bad at all. I think you look very sexy in that dress.”

_Oh, Donna, you silly girl! Look who you’re asking about an ironing board – the man who isn’t bothered in the slightest by wrinkles. There has to be one in this room somewhere. Maybe they hung it behind the bathroom door? No, I definitely would have noticed it.  
_

“Well, I do appreciate the compliment; but I wouldn’t be caught dead in a wrinkled dress.”

_She’s too obsessed with being wrinkled. I’ll have to change that and convince her that wrinkles are just part of life and to loosen up.  
_

“Donna, you can iron it all you want; but the minute you sit down or I give you a hug you’re going to get wrinkles again. It’s something you can’t avoid,” pointed out Benedict as he opened the top dresser drawer in order to select a pair of socks. “That’s why I can’t be bothered. Why should I waste time ironing something that’s only going to get wrinkled when I could be doing something much more enjoyable? Such as snogging you.” He smiled disarmingly and crinkled his nose at her.

_Bless his little heart. This explains so much about him. Good gravy! I’m going to have to try and change that. He can’t go around like that all the time. Especially, since he’s an actor. He should always look his best.  
_

“It will only take me a couple of minutes. I’m a very fast ironer,” said Donna as she bounded out of the bed, so she could look underneath it. Unfortunately, Donna did not notice her high heeled shoe that was lying on the floor. Her right foot landed right on it, causing her ankle to bend the wrong way. She felt immediate pain.

“Shit! My ankle!” Donna cried as she plopped back down on the bed and began to rub it. “I can’t believe this happened! Of all nights!”

“What’s wrong?” asked Benedict as he quickly crossed the room to the bed. He bent down and held out his hands. “Let'shave a look.”

Donna gingerly lifted her foot so he could inspect it. 

“I turned my ankle. I forgot my shoe was on the floor and stepped on it the wrong way.”

“Good thing you’re wearing nude-coloured tights so I can see. It appears to be a bit swollen, but no bruises that I can see. Does it hurt much?”

“It does look a little swollen,” Donna agreed, biting her lower lip. “I don’t see any bruises forming...yet. It feels a little sore. My shoe came off my foot when it got tangled in the comforter and must have fallen onto the floor.”

“Tell me if this hurts,” instructed Benedict as he gently pressed her ankle in various places and watched her face closely for a reaction.

“No, thank God! That means nothings’ broken,” said Donna in relief.

“I thought you said you had earned a badge in first aid,” smirked Benedict. “That doesn’t mean anything. We need to see if you can walk on it. Hold onto me and try to stand.”

“That doesn’t mean anything either, but you’re right. I need to find out if I can stand and walk on it.”

“Up you go then!”

Donna put her arm around Benedict and got up. She felt pain, causing her to wince as soon as she put her weight on it.  “Damn. It hurts.”

“Can you walk?”

Donna took a few tentative steps and sat back down on the bed.

“It’s not awful pain. I can certainly walk on it if I have to.”

“Well the beauty of it is you don't have to. I'm here. Now, I’m going to call the front desk and find out where the nearest A & E is. I’ve got my car, so we can drive over and have them take a look at it.”

Benedict began to reach for the room phone and frowned.

_I don't recall taking the receiver off the hook._

“Did you take the bloody phone off the hook? Someone may have been trying to ring me.”

“I think it may have gotten knocked off while I was fixing the bed,” said Donna innocently.

_Bullshit. You took it off the hook, so we wouldn't be disturbed. You've got a bad case of love on your mind, Donna. I bet Dad has been trying to ring me._

Benedict fixed her with a look and started to pick up the receiver, but Donna covered his hand with hers to prevent him from making the call.

“Please don’t. There’s no need to go to an ER. It’s just a mild ankle sprain, which I know how to treat. If you would please hand me my purse, I’ve got everything I need right in there.”

_Of course you do. What was I thinking? She’s got a portable A &E in that bloody bag of hers._

Benedict brought the bag over to Donna and waited patiently while she opened it. She pulled out her first aid bag and removed an elastic bandage.

“You need to ice it,” commented Benedict. “That will bring down the swelling.”

“I know. I didn't work a whole summer on my Girl Scout First Aid Badge for nothing. That’s exactly what I plan to do. If you could please get me some ice from the ice bucket and a clean towel, that would be great.”

“There aren’t any more clean towels,” said Benedict.

“When I got here there were plenty of clean towels for my shower. I thought I left a couple of clean ones. I had planned on calling housekeeping but then you showed up and.....”

Benedict held up a hand and looked at her with narrowed eyes. “Wait a minute. So, when you got here the room had already been serviced. You were the one who used all the fucking towels. Blimey! I thought the maid was still cleaning the bathroom when I got here and hadn't replaced them yet.”

Donna looked at him questioningly. “And?”

“Bloody hell, Donna! You use a lot of towels! All I had left was a flannel and a hand towel.”

“I used two bath towels, two hand towels and one wash cloth. The bath mat was too small, so I used another bath towel. I hope that meets with your approval. Might I ask how many you use?”

Benedict laughed at her. “Not as many as _you_ do certainly. That’s fucking ridiculous! I use two towels - a flannel for washing and a large one to dry myself. Sometimes I treat myself and use the medium size to towel dry my hair.”

Donna tossed her hair back with annoyance. “Do I sense a note of sarcasm in your voice?”

“Yes, you do. Honestly, Donna, I can’t believe you use _that_ many towels. What in the hell do you use them for?”

 _My ankle’s merrily swelling, and he wants me to account for the towels I use after a shower_. _His and hers bathrooms will be a necessity if we ever wind up getting married._

Donna huffed with impatience. “If you must know – and it seems you must – I use the wash cloth for washing my body, and I like two bath towels for drying off.”

“You’re so tiny and yet you need two?” He asked incredulously.

“Yes. One for the top half and one for the bottom half.”

Donna could see his lips threatening to curve up into a smile.

 _She's going to get even more pissed at me than she already is, but I've got to know..._ “And the medium ones?”

“Those are for my hair. The first one gets the excess water out. Then I wrap the other one around my head like a turban while I put my makeup on.”

“That’s daft! No one needs to use that many towels after a shower or bath!”

“Well, _I_ do. I have a routine.”

“I bet _you_ do,” snickered Benedict. “Remind me to order extra towels whenever we travel together.”

“I’m sorry my towel consumption doesn’t meet with your approval, and I really hate to put the great towel debate aside for now; but I could use a clean towel.”

“I didn't use the bath mat. That's still clean, but I guess it won't do for wrapping ice in. Let me call the front desk.”

_Okay...he didn't use the bath mat...I suppose that means he dripped water all over the floor or dried himself while still in the shower. I’m going to hope for the latter._

“The bath mat will do. I only need it to cover the pillows while I ice my ankle.”

Benedict put the champagne on the dresser and brought the ice bucket over to Donna. “Are you planning on sticking your foot in here then?”

“Stop being a wise ass, Benedict. I've got just the thing to hold the ice.”

Donna pulled out a white plastic zip bag and opened it to reveal a black and white checked plastic ice bag.

“Voila! Instant ice bag! All you need to do is fill it with the ice cubes.”

_Silly me to think that she wouldn’t have had something like that!  
_

While Benedict filled the bag with ice, Donna got herself settled into a comfortable sitting position against the headboard. He came over and placed two pillows behind her back and two more under her foot. Next he covered the pillows with the bath mat and carefully positioned the ice bag across her ankle.

“Between the ice and staying off your foot, you should be fine by morning.”

“Thank you, Benedict; but what about our dinner reservation?”

He licked his lips and rubbed the back of his neck as he returned to the dresser drawer.

“We’re going to have to cancel it. First of all, you can’t navigate those stairs with that ankle. Second, I’m supposed to have dinner with the cast and crew. Third, my dad’s here. He drove up from London to surprise me. He's also expecting to have dinner with me. That’s what I meant by we have something to sort out.”

Donna sighed. “Well, at least you don’t have to worry about me. I’m stuck in here. As you rightfully pointed out, there’s no way I can do the stairs, so it would seem you only have to worry about your father and the cast.”

“I’m not going to leave you alone,” he said firmly.

“Why not? I’m capable of fending for myself. I’ll have some food sent up and read one of your books. You have quite a selection here,” she said indicating the various books scattered about the room with a wave of her hand.

Benedict looked at the pile of books on the dresser and nodded in acquiescence. “Yeah. I always take a lot of stuff with me. Particularly my books. I never travel without some.”

Donna laughed. “It’s like having your own portable library.”

Benedict opened the drawer to the dresser with the intent of selecting a pair of socks.  “And you don’t require a library car to borrow….what the fuck? Hello…what do we have here?” He pulled out the owl socks Donna had placed in the drawer.

“Happy Birthday!”

“These are fucking brilliant!" He gasped with laughter. "Where on earth did you find them?”

“There’s a shop that sells nothing but novelty socks on Oxford Street. I couldn’t resist them.”

Benedict shook his head, sat on the edge of the bed and began to pull the socks on.   Donna could see that he was honestly delighted with them.

“I’m glad you couldn’t resist them either. I must wear them tonight being it’s my birthday.”

“I also washed them for you.”

Benedict slid his feet into his shoes and looked at her in puzzlement.

“Why would you wash already clean socks? No one's worn them yes?”

Donna shook her head and laughed. “They were sitting in a store for God knows how long with lots of people handling them. You don't know what kind of germs they could have had on them.”

Benedict bent over to tie the laces on his shoes.

_Hmmm....I left these shoe laces tied.  Now, I know I sure as shit didn't untie them. She must have untied them along with the ones on my other shoes.  
_

“I hadn't realized there was such a demand for owl birthday socks, _Sweetheart_ ,” he commented dryly.

_Oh. That was the sarcastic version of Sweetheart. He's got two. The loving version and the Donna-you're-acting-like-a-total-putz version. This was definitely the latter._

“Oh, Ben, before I forget – there’s a card for you propped against the clean coffee mugs. You might want to open it.”

Benedict slit open the envelope with a long index finger and carefully extracted the card, setting aside the smaller envelope that was tucked inside it. The card had a couple walking hand and hand in a garden on the front. It simply read:  **Happy Birthday to My Love**

He felt himself begin to tear up as he read the sentiment:

 

**“One day, when we look back on this day, I think we will realize that it was only the first of many birthdays to come. I hope to celebrate you now, and I hope to celebrate you 100 years from now.  
**

**Happy birthday to you, my future.”  
**

**Love always, Donna  
**

 

Benedict swallowed hard over the lump in his throat and came to sit beside Donna. His eyes were bright with tears and his voice hoarse.

“Thank you for everything you’ve done for me today, Donna. I can’t adequately express how very loved I’m feeling right now,” he said as he leaned over and hugged her tightly. “I'm also trying very hard not to go all soppy on you.”

_If you think you feel loved now, wait until later, my dear. You are going to get your rain-check, and nothing you can say will talk me out of it._

“I’m so happy I could make your day special, Benedict. I love you so much,” said Donna, brushing away a tear that had escaped from his eye. “And it's perfectly alright to be as soppy as you like on your birthday – as long as it's a happy soppy.” She smiled at him and kissed the tip of his nose.

“Oh, I assure you, it is a very happy soppy. I love you, Sweetheart,” Benedict said, leaning in for a gentle kiss.

Donna smiled to herself. _Ah, now that's the loving version of Sweetheart. Much, much nicer._

“Hey! You still have another envelope to open,” She said, breaking the kiss and pointing to the small envelope that he had left on the dresser. He quickly retrieved it and settled back on the bed beside her.

“Hmmm…I wonder what could be in here….”

Donna watched excitedly as he opened the small envelope and examined the tickets to _War Horse_.

“Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my fucking GAWD! I’ve been dying to see _War Horse_! How on earth did you manage to get these?”

Donna smiled and winked at him. “C'est un secret, mon chere.”

“Merci beaucoup! C'est une merveilleuse surprise!”

“Je ne savais pas que vous parliez français!”

“Je parle un peu. Je l'ai etudie a l'ecole, and that's pretty much the extent of my French,” Benedict chuckled. “I wish I were more fluent. My command of Italian is better.”

“Sono molto colpito dal fatto che si parla anche Italiano.”

"La sorella di mia madre vive in Italia con il suo fidanzato, così ho imparato nel corso degli anni,” replied Benedict. “You speak some Italian also yes?”

_And I thought he just knew that Italian toast I made on our first date at the Tate Modern.  He's just full of surprises._

“My mother's parents would always speak Italian when they didn't want us to know what they were talking about. I studied it in middle and high school just so I could finally understand what they were saying!” Donna laughed. “I loved languages, so I also took up French and Spanish in high school as well.”

“This is brilliant! When we have children, we can speak French or Italian when we don't want them to know what we're discussing!”

_Oh, Benedict, you're putting the cart before the horse as Nona would say. Let's be in a relationship for a while before we start having babies._

“This really has been the most amazing birthday! I'm so over the moon!”

Donna began to laugh. “And it’s not over yet!”

Benedict raised an eyebrow at her. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You’ll find out when you get back from dinner, so eat fast!”

“I hate secrets! Tell me!”

“No way in hell! My lips are sealed.”

Benedict began to tickle Donna’s side, causing her to shriek with laughter as she unsuccessfully tried to bat his hand away. “Tell me, you cheeky woman; and I’ll stop!”

“Never! Now stop that at once, Benedict, or….” She gasped with laughter.

“Or what? Tell me now!”

There was a loud knock on the door.

Donna and Benedict stopped and stared at each other.

“I bet it’s fucking housekeeping!” said Benedict. “It hasn't been an hour, has it?”

Donna began to try and straighten her dress, which was hiked up around her thighs.  “No way. We definitely weren't kissing for an hour.”

“I’ll be right there,” Benedict shouted as he got up to get his trousers.  

“How do I look?” asked Donna, finger-combing her hair.

“Like someone who hurt their ankle,” Benedict replied, pulling on his trousers and zipping them up. “Not to worry. You can’t be seen from the doorway due to the little foyer.”

“Don’t you want the room serviced?”

“Well, I thought I did. Now that I know it already was - what's the point? I’ll just ask for whatever clean towels they have in the storeroom then. That should be enough for you.”

“You're always such a wise ass, Benedict!”

“I'll be just a minute. You need to stay put and rest. They can come back in the morning and do the usual servicing once we’ve left,” said Benedict as he disappeared from view to open the door to the room.

Donna heard the door open and used the remote to turn on the TV. She watched with amusement as an old horror movie filled the screen with the heroine screaming her head off as the monster chased her about what appeared to be a castle. After about five minutes, she heard the door to the room abruptly close.

“That was odd,” said Benedict as he came back into her field of vision. “There wasn't a soul there.”

 

*************************************************************

 

Timothy Carlton stood before the door to Benedict's room. He had knocked loudly and heard the laughter and noise coming from within suddenly stop. _  
_

_Timothy, this was wrong. You should not have done that. That was something Wanda would have done without so much as a second's thought.   It's an invasion of privacy. Benedict's a grown man and has the right to do whatever he pleases behind closed doors.  
_

“I'll be right there!” Came Benedict's voice loudly from within the room. _  
_

_I bet he's not dressed. I need to get out of here. If he wants to shag Donna Saint James, that's his business – though I really hope she's not with him.  
_

With that Timothy quickly crossed the hall and let himself into his own room, closing the door behind him. He peered out the peephole in the door. _  
_

_Good! I can see his door from here. This peephole has quite a wide vista of the hallway. Wanda would just love this. She would stand here all night and watch the comings and goings of the other guests.  
_

The door to Benedict's room opened, and he stuck his head out. Then he ventured out into the hallway and stood, hands on his slender hips; and a puzzled expression on his face. Timothy could not only see that his son was fully dressed, but he could also clearly hear the sound of the telly coming from his room. The door directly across the hall from Benedict suddenly opened; and one of the cast came out, locking the door behind him.

“You look rather perplexed, Benedict. Anything wrong?” he asked.

Benedict shrugged. “Someone just knocked on my door and by the time I answered it, there was no one there. It just seemed rather odd.”

“Well, it wasn't me,” the man laughed. “I was just on my way downstairs. Are you ready?”

“Not quite. I've got to take care of one more thing, Steven. Tell everyone I'll be right down.”

Timothy watched as Benedict returned to the room and shut the door behind him. _  
_

_Ah, he's dressed. I was wrong. He wasn't shagging anyone. That was his telly I heard from the hallway. What am I doing? I'm jumping to conclusions like Wanda. I only need one person in the family to do that, and I best leave it to her. I think I'll just mind my own business, use the loo and try his mobile again. So, I owe Wanda a tenner. This time I'm more than happy to be wrong!  
_

Timothy called Wanda and left a message as her mobile went directly to voice mail.

“Agent Carlton reporting from the field, Commander. You'll be chuffed to hear that our son was not – I repeat – not shagging Donna Saint James or anyone else for that matter. I found him to be completely dressed with the telly on for company. I'll pay up when I see you. Yes, you may revel in the fact that _you_ were right this time.”

 

*******************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

 

“What do you mean there was nobody there?” asked Donna with concern as she turned off the TV. “I _definitely_ heard someone knock on the door.”

Benedict nodded. “As did I.”

“It reminds me of the time we were on vacation at Disney, and these kids would knock on our door every night when they came back late from the parks. By the time my dad would get to the door, the hallway was empty. This happened every night at the same time until one night he waited and caught them.”

_And Mom had one of her little talks with the hotel manager, and we got comped three nights stay due to the 'quality of our vacation experience' being ruined by those kids._

“Are you suggesting that I stand guard at the peephole then?”

“Of course not! I was just reminded of it. Maybe the housekeeper went to the storeroom or back downstairs. It did take you a minute or so to get dressed.”

Benedict picked up his mobile, turned it back on and reviewed his messages.

“ _Bollocks!_ My dad's been trying to reach me – I'm supposed to meet him for a drink in the bar. I'll just call and tell him I'm not feeling well.”

“That's ridiculous, Ben. You have three choices: You can go downstairs and have dinner with your dad or you can go downstairs and have dinner with the cast and bring your dad along...”

“I'm not liking the first two – I _really_ don't want to leave you alone.”

“The third choice is you stop being so secretive and tell your father I'm here tonight.”

Benedict looked suddenly agitated as he shook his head emphatically.

“Oh, no, no, no, no!  Absolutely not!  No way in fucking hell!”

_Okay...that was a bit of an over-the-top reaction, but then again he is an actor - always the dramatic one._

“Why the hell not? We're all in the same place. _I_ can't go down to dinner; but _you_ can. You can explain what happened over dinner. It's not like I've never met your father before....”

“Yes. That's what I'm afraid of. He still thinks you’re that accident-prone girl from the Orangery.”

“Jesus! He refers to me as accident-prone?” Donna groaned.

_Oopps. I shouldn't have said that. Where is your tact, Benedict?_

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck and ran his hand through his hair.   “Well, yeah. He did.”

“I think you should just tell him already. Then it's just your mom, who I need to meet. Your dad can come up here afterwards to have cake and champagne with us.”

Benedict sat down on the edge of the bed and buried his head in his hands.

“Absolutely not! There is no way in motherfucking hell I'm going to do that!”

Donna sighed. “Again - why not? I'm sure your father already knows I'm here. He was sitting in the bar having tea when I arrived and pretending to read the newspaper.”

Benedict looked up and frowned. “What do you mean by _pretending_ to read?”

“Exactly how it sounds. He was watching me,” she chuckled.

“Did you catch him at it?”

“Well, no; but I could feel his eyes on me.”

Benedict waved her off. “Nonsense. My dad would never do anything like that. He would have gotten up and come over to greet you.”

“If I were him, I would avoid me like the plague,” scoffed Donna bitterly. “That wasn't one of my finer moments.”

“Don't worry. We'll sort it all out. As long as _I_ don't avoid you like the plague – and there's _no_ chance of that happening,” smiled Benedict as he kissed her cheek.

Benedict opened the bedside table and rummaged around in it.

 _What's this?  Condoms...and lube?  These aren't my condoms.  Mine are in the other drawer._   _Miss Saint James must have brought them just in case._

He pulled out the box of condoms and tube of K-Y jelly.   "Are these yours by any chance, because I certainly didn't put them in there?"

Donna's face went beet red as she stared at his hands.

_Jeezus!  He finds everything, doesn't he?  I could never keep a secret from him._

Donna gave him a superior smile.  "Well, I was a Girl Scout you know; and a good scout is _always_ prepared for _anything_!"

"Even activities of a sexual nature?"  he asked skeptically, eyebrows raised.

Donna nodded.  "Yep. As I just said, I'm prepared for _all_ possibilities."

Benedict smirked.  "I take it you have earned your Sex Badge then, yes?"

"Sex Badge?  Hahaha!" Donna threw back her head and guffawed.  "That is hilarious!"

"Will you be giving me a demonstration on how best to use these later?  Is that my surprise?"

Donna shook her head and kept laughing.

Benedict pursed his lips and looked at her through narrowed eyes.

"Or perhaps you want to share the sexual techniques and tips you surely learnt from working on that badge?"

"Please stop making me laugh - my sides hurt!"

"Are you going to show me how to put on a prophylactic with my teeth?  I've always wanted to do that, but I'm just not that flexible...I mean I do practice yoga to keep limber and all...but I just can't quite manage to..."

"Do you always refer to condoms as prophylactics?"

"I thought it sounded a bit more delicate."

"Good gravy, Benedict! You are such a pain in the ass sometimes, you know that?"

Benedict laughed and shoved the condoms and lube back in the drawer.  "Yeah.  So I've been told. Many times over."  He removed the room service menu and handed it to Donna. Then he took the tin of chocolate mints and offered one to Donna, who helped herself. Benedict popped one into his mouth.

_Donna's right.  I should just throw caution to the wind and tell Dad; but Dad's been acting rather strange lately. I know he had to be taking photos of me that day at Parliament Hill Market. I don't care what Mum said – that was not a webcam. He was the one taking those photos.  
_

“The stuffed pork chop or the Bourbon-basted steak sounds good,” commented Donna. “I think you said the steak was quite good, didn't you? Or was it the sautéed Dover sole with toasted almonds that you liked so much? I did read that the roast goose is their specialty. They serve it year-round. There was a restaurant in New Jersey that used to serve nothing but Thanksgivng Dinner year-round. It was called Larrison's Turkey Farm. My parents used to take us all the time after we went to this little amusement park called Wild West City....they called themselves 'the best of the west in the heart of the east'.  Lots of the Old West nostalgia...cowboys, gunfights...my brother, Kenny, just loved it.   The idea of serving the traditional English Christmas goose dinner reminds me of it.”

_So, our traditional Christmas dinner reminds her of the old wild west?  Interesting..._

Benedict wasn't really listening closely to Donna as he continued to remember what had transpired in his parents flat that night. _  
_

_That whole night in their flat was surreal. It was like the night I caught Mum doing something suspicious on the computer, and she pulled the same shit with stepping on the cord to cut off the power.  
_

“They have roasted Brussels sprouts with bacon and hazelnuts. I've made that myself...The triple fried duck fat chips sound good, too; but Jamie Oliver makes the best. What do you think I should have? You've been eating down there for almost three weeks...” _  
_

Again, Benedict hadn't heard anything Donna had said as she prattled on about the menu. He found himself daydreaming about the night in his parents flat when he had come upon an email that had peaked his curiosity:

 

**_"Hey, Mum? Did you get a new email address? WNDAVC? How come you didn't tell me? Is it for your secret boyfriends?"  
  
_ ** **His mother had nearly dropped the tray she had been holding. _  
  
"It's a correspondence pertaining to my memoirs,"_ she had said quickly _.  
  
"You're being awfully mysterious, Mum."  
  
"And you're being awfully cheeky!"  
  
"I'm not being cheeky. I call it being curious!"  
  
"I call it being nosy," _ retortedWanda. _"This isn't the first time I've caught you reading my emails."_** _  
  
" **And I've caught you reading mine."**_ **Benedict had scoffed.** __  
  
**Their eyes had then locked. Neither of them had said a word. Benedict could still see a bit of that email that had peaked his curiosity on the computer screen in his mind's eye.**   
  
**"Who's Donna Saint James?"**   
  
**"She's my literary agent."**   
  
**"Did she offer you a book deal, then? Did I catch you and Dad celebrating? Ooh, would you mind terribly if I read it? I'll keep it to myself! Promise."**

**He had attempted to start reading the email before she could answer and that was when Wanda had stepped on the computer cord.**

_Mum said her fucking literary agent's name was Donna Saint James. How many Donna Saint James' could there be in London? Something's up. It’s funny how Mum never mentioned those memoirs again.  
_

“Ben? Hello? Where did you go?” asked Donna with a concerned expression on her face, waving her hand in front of his face. “I've been talking to you and you haven't answered one of my questions.”

Benedict caught himself staring at Donna, who had put down the menu.

_That's daft, Benedict. There is no way Mum and Donna could know each other. However, I do know what I saw on that screen; and I saw the name 'Donna Saint James'. I just wish I had had time to read that whole email. I really must make the time to get into the flat when Mum and Dad aren't home. I have a sneaking suspicion that there are plenty of interesting things to read on their computer that are hidden away from curious eyes such as mine._

“Oh, so sorry, Darling. Don't mind me. I was just thinking about tomorrow's scene is all. What were you saying?”

"When we were little and went to Larrisons Turkey Farm, we used to go out back and see the turkeys in the cages before having dinner. It was the highlight of the day!"

"That's sounds like fun."

"My mother used to call it "Turkey Death Row".   They used to kill them, and then roast them off for dinner in the restaurant."

"Sounds charming," said Benedict distractedly.

_I know when I'm being tuned out, and Mr. Cumberbatch is doing a fine job of it. Something seems to be bothering him.  I'll let up about his telling Tim.  It must be what's bothering him._

Benedict suddenly turned to her with a confused expression as if something just dawned on him.

"Your parents used to take you to see the turkeys before they were killed for your dinner yes?"

Donna giggled.  "Sort of.  At first, we were too young to make the connection, but Kenny was the first one to.  Carly used to cry every time we went after that and refused to eat the turkey, so we stopped going."

_I can just imagine the fun excursions your parents are going to take our children on.  Jesus Christ - they're beginning to sound a bit scary._

Benedict put on his watch along with a signet ring that was in the bedside table. Donna held out her hand to inspect the gold ring.

“I've never seen this before. It's very handsome. Was it a birthday present?”

“No. It was my dad's and his father's before him. Dad gave it to me when I turned twenty-one. I sometimes bring something of my own on set, such as my signet ring. I've worn it in _Atonement_ and thought my character in this film might also wear it.”

“Why don't you wear it more often? I wear my ruby ring all the time.”

“Probably because there isn't a need for me to wear it for most jobs. I'd have to be taking it on and off, and I'm afraid I'd lose it in a dressing room.”

 _Besides the only ring I'm holding out for is a wedding band.  I can't wait for the day when I can wear one and show the world that I belong to someone,_ thought Benedict.

“Seriously, Ben, I've been thinking. I suppose if I were your father, I wouldn't come over to greet me. I'd run as far away from me as I could after that day at the Orangery. I still can't help but cringe whenever I think about it.” _  
_

_And you have no idea what I did to your father's lover that day either!  Poor Wanda - her eye and her foot! You'd run away from me as fast as you could if you knew.  
_

“This is not how I intended things to turn out, Donna. As you know, I’ve arranged to bring you around for Sunday lunch next week. I want to do it right. I want my parents to see you at your best. I know Mum will love you to bits, and Dad will see that what happened that day was just an accident. I don't want to do it tonight. This is just beyond fucked up.”

Donna laughed bitterly. “I could not have put it better, my Dear. Suit yourself. I'll just hide out here, have my dinner and do some reading. I'm going to order the goose – it sounds very good.”

“Have them put it on my room tab, and I'll settle the bill when I check out.”

Benedict's mobile rang. “Hello. Hi Dad. Yeah. Sorry about that. I'll be right out.” He cut the connection and kissed Donna. “My dad's in a room two doors down. I'll see you later. I won't be too long...especially since you've got another surprise cooked up for when I get back.”

Donna Saint James sighed once the door had closed behind Benedict.

_Damn! I thought he'd never leave. Good thing he didn't call my bluff. I would have died if he decided to bring Tim back here. Now, to have some nourishment and wedge myself into that tight corset outfit before he gets back!_

 

 

 

Benedict Cumberbatch sat at the long table in the Blackberry Bramble's award-winning restaurant and sipped some wine. He had just finished his birthday dinner of a juicy, slow-roasted pork chop that had been filled with a savory stuffing of brioche, apricots and pinenuts. Benedict patted his lips with the serviette and took out his mobile to send Donna a text message:

 

**Hi. Is everything okay? Do you need me to come up? B  
**

**Nope. What did you have for dinner? D  
**

**The pork chop. It was succulent. You? B  
**

**The roast goose. It was too fatty. D  
**

**What kind of food critic are you? Goose is supposed to be fatty. LOL   B  
**

**A very discerning one. Goose should have a certain amount of fat, but not this much! I bet they used the liver for foie gras. D**

**Aren’t you the perceptive one? Foie gras is on the menu. The pudding menu shows foie gras and blackberry ice cream with chocolate chunks and toffee crumbles. B  
**

**You just made that up. D  
**

**I can’t fool you. Sounded vile, yes? B  
**

**LOL. A food critic's nightmare because I would be bound and determined to try something so – unique. D  
**

**You would have enjoyed doing the review though. B  
**

**Absolutely. I take it you're bored? D**

**No. Not at all. Dad is the toast of the table. He's having a proper catch up with a couple of his old acting chums. He's maybe spoken to me twice. B  
**

**Did you have dessert yet? Don't forget I have lots of tasty treats up here! Your birthday cake, candy and a bottle of champagne. D  
**

**I've had two glasses of wine with dinner already. I don't want to get pissed. Don't forget I've got work tomorrow. B  
**

**Tomorrow is Sunday. What happened to a day of rest? D  
**

**Acting is not a nine-to-five job, nor do we automatically have off on weekends. I've already had my day off this week. B  
**

**I don't want you drunk. I just want you completely relaxed. D  
**

**I am very relaxed. I'm also one drink short of becoming pleasantly buzzed. B  
**

**Good. Save your last drink for me. Let me know when you're on your way up. I promise it will be better than any dessert you could possibly have down there. Dxoxo**

 

_I wonder what Donna has planned? I bet that sexy black corset has something to do with it – and to think I was going to bin it! I have a feeling she's going to try and seduce me, and I think I'll let her this time. It's been so long since I've had a good shag...any shag for that matter, and it’s my own fault. Donna made it quite clear that she’s more than ready to begin a physical relationship. I'm the one who's holding out and pushing for a romantic holiday. We haven't even discussed birth control or anything like that yet. Shit! I don't want to wait any longer. I want to be seduced and get laid in the worst way._

“You’ve been rather quiet and pensive tonight. Is everything alright, Ben?” asked Timothy, who was sitting next to his son.

“Yeah…brilliant.” Benedict didn’t look up from his mobile.

_He’s been texting someone like a house on fire. I wonder who it could be?_

“Who were you texting?” Timothy inquired while trying to look over Benedict’s shoulder.

“Hmmm?”

 _He's off on his own little cloud. I'll try it again._ _I wish I could see who he’s so preoccupied with. Oh, that was very Wanda-like of me._

“I was just asking who were you so busy texting?”

Benedict looked up from his mobile and blinked. “Oh. Ermm...just Adam. He and the chaps must have gotten together to play a practical joke on me for my birthday. You weren't involved in that, were you?”

Timothy laughed. “I have no idea what you're talking about, Ben, nor do I think I want to know.”

 _That's good then,_ thought Benedict. _It wasn't him._

Benedict was glad that Timothy had been warmly welcomed by the cast and crew. His father seemed to be enjoying himself immensely in the company of some of his old friends. They had been busy talking shop and catching up on each other’s lives since they had last seen each other.

“You seem to be having a good time yes?”

“Very much so. I haven't seen Julie or some of the others in an age, so this has been quite the treat. I wish your mother were here.”

Benedict stole a glance at his watch. It was almost nine o'clock.

_Christ! This fucking dinner has lasted long enough already! I really need to get back upstairs to Donna. Perhaps I can make my excuses and leave. After all, I do have an early morning call; so it would be completely justified.  
_

“Do you have a train to catch?” asked Timothy with raised eyebrows. “That's the fifth time you've looked at your watch in the past ten minutes.”

_And I thought he wasn't paying attention. Dad's sharp as ever.  
_

Benedict pretended to stifle a yawn. “Just feeling a bit tired is all. I've got to be up pretty early tomorrow. I'll be doing my last scenes. If all goes well, I can go home tomorrow afternoon and do any pickups that need to be done in London.”

 _He doesn't look tired to me, but I suppose he'd like to go upstairs to learn his lines and relax a little,_ thought Timothy. _I can’t fault him for that. I just wish Wanda and Joss would get here before he retires for the evening._

The servers brought pudding menus for the table, and Benedict noticed that Julia McKenzie began to smile and wave at someone behind him.

“Why Tim, you didn't tell us Wanda was coming with Joss Ackland!” she exclaimed. “Wanda, Joss – over here!” she chirped as she got up from her chair.

Benedict and Timothy turned to see Wanda and Joss entering the dining room, both looking damp and wind-blown. Timothy immediately got to his feet and helped Wanda off with her mac. He kissed her soundly on the lips.

“So chuffed you got here in time for pudding! Hello, Joss,” said Timothy, shaking his friend's hand. “Good to see you two got here safe and sound.”

“Mum! What a wonderful surprise!” exclaimed Benedict, getting to his feet to hug his mother. “I had no idea you were coming! Dad didn’t say a word.”

“That’s because I can keep a secret,” smirked Timothy. “Unfortunately, you didn’t inherit those genes.”

“Oh you!” scoffed Wanda, waving Timothy off. “Happy Birthday, Darling!” she said as she hugged Benedict tightly and kissed both his cheeks. “Joss moved heaven and earth to get me here in time.”

“I just tested the speed limit in a few spots once the rain let up,” said Joss with a wink. “Happy Birthday, Benedict! Adam, Alice and the baby were supposed to be with us; but your godson had a bit of a reaction to beets.”

Benedict shook his hand. “Nice to see you, Joss. Too bad they couldn't make it - what a lovely idea that was. Did they take Jon to an A&E?”

“There was no need. Alice said he was already on the mend when we spoke with her a little while ago,” replied Wanda, as Benedict held out his chair for her to sit. “Adam mentioned that you left him a rather strange message on his mobile. Something about a practical joke.”

Benedict's face reddened as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Oh. Yeah. That. I'll have to ring him later and sort things out. There was a misunderstanding.”

_Thanks to Donna and her ridiculous love of towels. When we get married, I know just what to tell people to give us for wedding gifts. Fucking towels!  
_

Benedict made introductions all around, and the cast ordered pudding and coffees. He managed to squeeze in a chair so as to sit beside Wanda. After several minutes of exchanging pleasantries and small talk, Timothy beckoned to the server for two dinner menus which he gave to Wanda and Joss after confirming that the kitchen was still accepting orders for mains.

“Brilliant! I'm starving!” said Wanda as she quickly looked over the menu. “Has anyone tried the pork chop?”

“Yes. It was to die for,” replied Benedict. “Have the mash and the Brussels sprouts for sides,” he added. “The blackberry cheesecake is also first-rate. I know how much you adore cheesecake.”

“That's what I'll have then,” smiled Wanda. “Tim, if you don't mind, I'd like to go up to our room and change while my dinner's cooking. Ben, would you be a love and order for me when the server comes back?”

Benedict nodded. “Of course, Mum.”

Shit. I’m going to have to stay here while Mum and Joss have their dinner. It would be rude to leave – particularly after they drove all this way to be with me. I’d better let Donna know I’ll be delayed.

 

*****************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

 

Donna Saint James finished tying the bow at the top of the corset and took a deep breath. She looked at her reflection in the mirror and had to admit that her breasts looked very voluptuous. The corset made her waist look even smaller than it was, which caused her hips to appear curvier than they already were.

_Not bad, Donna. Jeeze! No wonder women stopped wearing these under their dresses...I can barely breath. I know Andrew said it looked much better a size smaller; and he was right. However, I'm afraid I may suffocate before Benedict gets back!  
_

Donna turned and looked at her bottom. She tugged at the panties in a futile attempt to try and cover more of her butt cheeks.

_This is not very comfortable. It’s almost as bad as having a wedgie. I know Andrew said Benedict will probably love seeing more ass, but this is ridiculous. My honey had better see this ass quickly and pull these panties off so we can get down to business! Ha ha ha! I think I will have to dispense with the slippers. I don't want to risk hurting my ankle any further by walking on those heels. The elastic bandage looks so very not attractive with my sexy outfit. Ha ha ha!   However, at least I can now walk on it.  
_

Donna’s text chime went off, alerting her to a message. She could feel her heart begin to beat faster.

_Oh, Benedict must be on his way up here!  
_

Donna’s phone showed that it was her sister, Carly, texting: _  
_

**How’s the birthday celebration going? C**

_Why is my sister bothering me at this hour? She knows tonight was Seduce Benedict night._

**It’s not. I twisted my ankle. D**

**How in the hell did you manage to do that? C**

**It’s a long story. Benedict is downstairs having dinner with the cast and his father. D**

**Timothy is there? WTF? C**

**He decided to surprise Ben for this birthday. He certainly surprised me and not in a good way. D**

**Did he see you? C**

**He was in the bar having tea with a clear view of the front desk. There’s no way he missed me. D**

**You can’t be sure. Did you actually catch him watching you? C**

**No, but I know he was watching me. D**

**Just as I suspected. You know nothing. C**

**What I do know is that this corset is killing me. It’s too damn tight. D**

**Maybe so, but think how sexy you must look in it. Andrew was right. You did need a smaller size. You look just like Dita Von Teese. C**

**I don’t understand how Dita does it because I can barely breathe in this damn thing, let alone dance in it. D**

**Then it’s a good thing you’re not planning on dancing...unless you changed your mind. C**

**If I were to attempt dancing, I’d burst out of this damn thing. D**

**Benedict might like that. I bet he’s going to pick you up, toss you on the bed and have his way with you as soon as he sees you. C**

**Not if I’m passed out on it already from lack of oxygen. D**

**Then he can give you mouth-to-mouth resuscitation! Just be gentle with him, you sex-starved little tigeress. LOL.   C**

**BTW, I owe you dinner at Sketch. You were right. D**

**About what? C**

**Ben isn’t circumcised. D**

**WTF? C**

**I thought nothing happened yet? C**

**I saw him without his clothes while I was in the closet. D**

**What in the hell were you doing in the closet? Spying on him? LOL! C**

**Sort of. D**

**Jesus, Donna! C**

**Let’s just say it wasn’t one of my better ideas. I told you it’s a long story. D**

**I’m not sure I want to hear it. Just be sure to be gentle with his foreskin. Don’t go yanking it back in your enthusiasm to get laid! C**

**Are you insinuating that I’m going to be rough with him? D**

**No. I’m telling you outright. Don’t forget what happened with Roy and the Super Head Honcho. C**

**I just used a little too much suction that one time. D**

**You told me Roy thought the damn thing was going to turn his dick inside out! C**

**Ben and I haven’t discussed toys yet. I don’t even know if he’s into them. D**

**Perhaps tonight isn’t the best time to find out. Just see what happens naturally. You can always buy him a cock ring if you find he isn’t up to it. C**

**Shut up! D**

**Or maybe Roy kept the Super Head Honcho. Maybe mom could ask him to mail it to you. ;-p C**

**Sometimes I forget just how funny you aren’t, Carla. Got to go. I think I hear someone in the hallway. Wish me luck.**

**Good luck and wish Benedict a Happy Birthday from me and Steve! C**

**Talk to you tomorrow. D**

_Maybe that’s Harry coming up to get my dinner tray,_ thought Donna as she picked up the tray and crossed the room to the door. As she got closer, she could hear the sound of a female and male voice in the hallway.  _Hmmmm…that sounds like people laughing. Definitely not Harry_.

Donna Saint James looked out the peep hole and dropped the tray as she watched a giggling Wanda Ventham and Timothy Cumberbatch trying to unlock the door to Timothy’s room.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. The sentiment in Donna’s birthday card was taken from: http://www.wishesquotes.com/birthday/romantic- birthday-wishes#ixzz3Fs6Qlufg
> 
> 2\. Benedict had mentioned the signet ring in an old interview, I believe it was originally Timothy's, but don't hold me to it. LOL!
> 
> 3\. Wanda's sister, Amber, and her boyfriend live in Italy.
> 
> 4\. Supposedly, Benedict has family in France. I don't know which side of the family.
> 
> 5\. I have some knowledge of French, but none of Italian (Google Translate has to take the credit for the Italian phrases); so VERY loosely translated the following mean:  
> C'est un secret, mon chere.” = That is a secret, my dear  
> “Merci beaucoup! C'est une merveilleuse surprise!” = Thank you very much! This is a wonderful/marvellous surprise.  
> “Je ne savais pas que vous parliez français!” = I didn't know that you speak French!  
> “Je parle un peu. Je l'ai etudie a l'ecole = I speak a little. I studied it in school.  
> “Sono molto colpito dal fatto che si parla anche Italiano.” = I'm very impressed that you also speak Italian.”
> 
> 6\. Dita Von Teese is a famous burlesque performer. 
> 
> 7\. The super head honcho: http://www.adameve.com/adult-sex-toys/male-masturbators/sp-super-head-honcho-masturbator-13277.aspx
> 
> 8\. Larrisons Turkey Farm Restaurant really did exist in Chester, New Jersey; as does Wild West City, which still does exist in Netcong, New Jersey.


	64. Chapter 64

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Part two of the night of unwelcome surprises continues, as Part one of the reveal begins. Donna, Timothy and Wanda have “the” confrontation. 
> 
> Note: I’ll be using ********* to indicate things going on at the same time.

 

Timothy Carlton dragged his wife’s overnight bag up the last few steps and grunted in relief upon reaching the landing. 

“Good grief, woman! Do you know the definition of ‘overnight bag’? It feels like you packed for the week rather than overnight!” 

Wanda turned to face her husband. “I barely packed anything!” she retorted. “Just my nighty, robe, slippers and a change of clothes for tomorrow morning….” 

Timothy looked at the bag in disgust. “Well you can’t tell it by me, and I’m the one who carried it up these fucking stairs.” 

“Oh, yes, and there’s just my little toiletries bag.” 

“The inn has a nice selection of toiletries, we _can_ share you know – we _are_ married.” 

“What about my makeup then? I hadn’t realized you had makeup to share? Is that why your skin looks so much better than mine?” 

“Stop being so cheeky, Wanda. My back hasn’t been too happy with these stairs.” 

Wanda immediately picked up the bag. “I’ve got it. I’d rather you take care of your back. Which way do we go? Right or left?” 

“It’s to the right,” replied Timothy as he walked down the hall with Wanda close behind him. “You said you only have a change of clothes for tomorrow, yet you said you wanted to change now. Forgive me if I’m confused, Pet.” 

Wanda laughed. “I’ve got an extra blouse with me. You never know when you might spill something and need a quick change.” 

_Of course she does. How could I forget that a change of clothes actually translates into two complete outfits – the planned one and the just-in-case-something-happens one?  
_

“Ben looked very happy to see me,” observed Wanda as they approached the room. 

“ _I’m_ very happy to see you,” smiled Timothy as he removed the door room key from his pocket to unlock the door. 

“Hmmm…and I thought that key fob in your pocket was evidence of just how much you missed me,” she teased, giving his bum a quick squeeze. 

“Wanda! _Really_! We’re in a public hallway!” Timothy exclaimed as he unlocked the door. 

Wanda could see that he was trying to keep from smiling. She laughed heartily. 

“And when did that _ever_ stop us?” She retorted, giving him another squeeze for good measure. 

Timothy held the door to their room open and stood back for her to enter. 

“Here we are my darling, and I encourage you to hurry up.” 

Wanda stopped and fixed him with a raised eyebrow. “Why? Did you take one of your little blue pills for me? Timothy Cumberbatch, you very, very naughty man wanting a quick shag before going back downstairs! I love it, you randy beast!” 

“That’s for me to know and you to find out! You are right about one thing – I am feeling awfully randy at the sight of your magnificent bum and tits.” 

Wanda smiled seductively at him and kissed him firmly on the lips. “Now, that’s my man! You need to get in here and show me just how much you missed me!” 

“We really don’t have all that much time, Love. What about Ben? He’s waiting downstairs for us.” 

“ _We_ wait for him all the time,” pouted Wanda. “Now, it’s _his_ turn to wait for us for once!” 

Timothy laughed as he slyly looked up and down the hallway before playfully pinching her bum as she crossed the threshold, causing her to yelp. 

A clatter from across the hall stopped them in their tracks. Wanda stared at Timothy, eyes wide. 

“I could swear that noise came from Ben’s room,” said Timothy with a frown. 

 

 ******************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

 

Donna Saint James stared out the peephole at the goings on in the hallway. 

_Well, I just can’t fucking believe my own eyes! Wanda and Tim! My poor honey is downstairs in the restaurant, while his father is sneaking his lover into his room. I’d love to know how they managed to do that without Benedict seeing her. He notices everything.  
_

Donna watched in fascination as Timothy fumbled for the key fob in his pocket and finally got it out. She could hear their conversation clearly:

 

“I’m very happy to see you,” said Timothy with a huge smile on his still handsome face as he began to unlock the door to his room. 

“Hmmm…and I thought that key fob in your pocket was evidence of just how much you missed me,” Wanda teased, as she gave his bottom a quick squeeze. 

_Good gravy! Isn’t she quite the femme fatale! Looks are so deceiving. I had no idea._

“Wanda! _Really!_ We’re in a public hallway!” Timothy exclaimed, looking over his shoulder to see if anyone was in fact in the hallway. 

Donna chuckled to herself as she watched his face slowly redden. 

_Poor Tim! He looks just like Benedict when he gets embarrassed. How cute is that? Wait, I need to stop with the poor Tim. He’s a liar and a cheater!_

Wanda laughed heartily. “And when did that _ever_ stop us?” She gave his bottom another squeeze. 

_Jeeze Louise? What did she mean by that? They used to fuck in public places? I just can’t imagine that.  
_

Timothy held open the door to the room and stood back for Wanda to enter before him. 

“Here we are my darling, and I encourage you to hurry up.” 

_My darling…I may throw up. He probably wants her to get her ass inside the room so no one sees her._

Wanda paused in the doorway and turned to fix him with a raised eyebrow. 

“Why? Did you take one of your little blue pills for me? Timothy Cumberbatch, you very, very naughty man wanting a quick shag before going back downstairs! I love it, you randy beast!” 

_Oh, Dear Lord, I can’t believe I’m hearing this! I’m seriously starting to feel ill._

 “That’s for me to know and you to find out! You are right about one thing – I am feeling awfully randy at the sight of your magnificent bum and tits.” 

_I’m seeing and hearing this, yet can’t quite wrap my head around it. I can’t wait to tell Carly about the illicit love birds._

Wanda smiled seductively at him and kissed him firmly on the lips. “Now, that’s my man! You need to get in here and show me just how much you missed me!” 

_They really should be ashamed of themselves playing kissy-face like this right under Benedict’s nose while his sweet little mother is off filming without any idea that her husband is cheating on her! This just makes my blood boil. I have a notion to go out there and tell them just what I think!  
_

Donna placed her hand on the doorknob then realized what she was wearing. 

_OH, yeah. I’m going to go out there dressed like a Las Vegas cocktail waitress and scold Tim for having an affair, while I’m planning on beginning one with his son tonight ._

“We really don’t have all that much time, Love. What about Ben? He’s waiting downstairs for us.” 

“ _We_ wait for him all the time,” pouted Wanda. “Now, it’s _his_ turn to wait for us for once!” 

_Whoa hoa here! Benedict knows about them? He knows his father is having an affair with his mother’s good friend? And this is okay with him? I suppose Tim didn’t ask for his blessing, so I guess he just shuts up and makes the best of it – but Benedict never shuts up about anything. I’m sure he said his piece to his father. Why didn’t he confide in me? This is surely something that bothers him – I bet that’s why he had an ulcer! It was eating away at him._

Timothy laughed as he looked up and down the hallway before playfully pinching Wanda’s bottom as she crossed the threshold, causing her to yelp. Donna dropped the tray as she watched Wanda turn and grab Timothy by his belt, as he laughed uproariously. She clapped her hand over her mouth as she watched the couple stop and exchange worried looks. _  
_

 _Shit! They heard me drop the tray!_

Donna looked down at the mess on her black satin travel slippers. They were covered with the remnants of her dinner. 

_It was time to retire these slippers anyway. I’ve got to pick up all this before Benedict comes back_. _If Harry doesn’t come back soon, I’ll just leave it in the hallway._

Donna peered through the peephole to see Tim looking right at the door, eyes narrowed.   Wanda also had a worried expression on her pretty face. 

“I could swear that noise came from Ben’s room,” said Timothy with a frown. “It’s just over there,” he added, pointing right to Donna – or so it seemed to her. 

“Hell’s bells, Timothy!” said Wanda, sounding a bit cross. “Ben’s downstairs. You said yourself that he was alone. The noise had to come from one of the other rooms.” 

_Oh, thank God! He didn’t see me at the front desk after all! I’m safe!_ Donna thought with relief. _Let me pick up this mess and put the tray outside in the hallway._

*************************************************************************************************************************************************************************** 

 

“And you can give me that tenner while we’re on the subject,” said Wanda, flouncing into the room and going to the window. “Look at that sky! This rain is never going to let up!” She pulled the drapes closed. 

“The weather report calls for clearing overnight and sunny skies for tomorrow. Then you can ask the front desk about giving Joss the tour of the small farm that doesn’t exist.” 

“You know improvisation is not one of my strong points.” 

“I whole heartedly agree, Pet, which reminds me - that stunt you pulled with stepping on the power cord to the computer was very obvious to both me and Benedict that night in Kensington. I could see it in his eyes.” 

Wanda went into the bathroom and shut the door. “I’ve had to do that to him one other time.” 

“Which was?” 

“When I was exchanging emails with Donna Saint James. Remember when he was staying over because Hampstead ran out of hot water.” 

“How can I forget that?” said Timothy loudly over the sound of the flushing toilet. “I thought he’d never leave.”

Wanda came out of the bathroom and opened one of the complimentary tubes of hand lotion. She squirted some into the palm of her hand and rubbed it in. 

“Mmmmm…smells like tangerine and basil…nice. Anyway, he saw a small portion of the email and asked me who Donna Saint James was.” 

“You never told me that. Where do you want your bag – on the bed or luggage rack?” 

“Luggage rack, please.” 

Timothy hefted Wanda’s overnight bag onto the luggage rack. “Christ, it’s amazing he hasn’t made the connection yet…he obviously knows Donna now.” 

“Not to worry. At the time, I simply told him I was thinking of writing my memoirs; and she was my literary agent. Of course he was asking a million questions about the book, but I was able to field them rather well and that was the end of it.” 

Timothy shook his head and made a face. “You can never be too sure about Benedict. He’s got an excellent memory, Wanda. Someday this is all going to come back to bite us in the arse.” 

“I’m going to let you worry for me as you worry enough for both of us. Ben’s been way too distracted with his career and this bird of his to worry about my supposed memoirs.” 

Timothy sighed, “Well, so far luck has been on our side. Let’s hope it continues in this vain until the day we die. After that I don't give a fig if he ever finds out or not.”

Wanda unzipped her bag and began to quickly unpack her things.

"Knowing Ben, the minute he arrived in heaven, he'd hunt us down," continued Timothy.

Wanda looked up from her suitcase.  "Who said we're going to heaven?"

Timothy pondered her question briefly. "You're right.  After what we've done, I'd venture to say we're on the express road to hell."

Wanda laughed.  "You've said that before."

"Have I?"

Wanda nodded as she took her undergarments out of the suitcase and put them in the dresser.

"Many times. Look at it this way, Tim.  At least we're having a good trip on the way down."

"We are?"

"We are."

"If you say so, Commander.  A good Agent never challenges his superior," smirked Timothy.

“Seriously, Tim. I have complete confidence that we will get away with it. Besides nothing came of the plan anyway, and the best news is that Donna’s not here to be with Ben. It has to be business and just a coincidence that she’s wound up in the same inn as him.” 

“Believe me, this is one time when I’m more than glad to be wrong,” Timothy said with relief as he removed a bill from his wallet and handed it to Wanda. “I don’t think I could bear the thought of Benedict carrying on with that girl.” 

Wanda smiled flirtatiously and tucked the money into her cleavage. She cast a sultry look at her husband as she hung up her outfit for the next day. 

“Now that the bet’s sorted, off with your clothes then!” said Timothy impatiently. 

Wanda looked taken aback. “My, aren’t you the suave one? For fuck’s sake, Tim! Can you give me a minute or two to freshen up first or is your penis on a timer these days?” 

Timothy sighed with annoyance. “You said you wanted to change first or did you forget all about your dinner? It won’t take that long to prepare. It’s not like they have to butcher a pig first to get your chop.” He checked his watch. “And in answer to your question, I’ve got plenty of time left,” he said, winking at her. “You need to go downstairs and eat first. Remember it is our son’s birthday and the whole purpose of our visit is to spend time with him.” 

“Granted. I’ll tend to your needs after dinner,” she said with a smile. “Consider it my way of showing appreciation for helping me to make such a wonderful son thirty-three years ago.” 

Timothy smiled and nodded. “Yes, he has turned out to be a fine man. I’m right proud of him.” 

“As am I.” 

Wanda lifted out the clean blouse she had neatly folded. She shook it out and frowned. 

“Sometimes no matter how carefully I fold things, I still get wrinkles. Is there an ironing board in this room? It will just take me a minute.” 

Timothy went to the closet and opened the doors. “There’s nothing in here. Can’t you let it go for once?” 

“Absolutely not! I can’t go downstairs looking as if Benedict did my laundry.” 

“I’ll call the front desk and have one brought up then,” sighed Timothy.

 

 *************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

 

Donna cleaned up the mess on the floor of the room and washed out her slippers in the bathroom sink. She sighed deeply as she looked at the tray, which she had restacked and put on the dresser. 

_Time to put you out in the hall. It smells like roasted goose in here, and I need it to smell like cinnamon. Cinnamon is supposed to be an aphrodisiac for men, and Benedict seems to like the scent of it. I’ll wait until he gets back to light the candle.  
_

Just then her text chime went off. It was Benedict: 

**I just wanted you to know that I’m still down here. B  
**

**I had a feeling since you’re not up here. D  
**

**Don’t be so damn cheeky. B  
**

**Your text is coming off as grumpy. D  
**

**It’s because I am. There’s been a delay. B  
**

**Care to share?   D**

Donna heard voices in the hallway, one of which sounded like Harry’s. There was a knock on the door. 

**GtG. Harry must be here with the extra towels I ordered for the morning and to get my dinner tray. BRB. Dx**

Donna flung the phone on the bed and shrugged into the short, black silk robe. She tied the sash, picked up the tray and opened the door. 

There stood Harry with an armful of towels. “Here are your towels, Miss. I can also take your tray if you’re done.” 

Donna accepted the towels from the young man and gave him a tip. 

“Thanks, Harry. Let me get the used towels and the dinner tray.” 

 

 *************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

 

“The front desk assures me there is an ironing board under the bed and the iron is in the wardrobe on the top shelf,” reported Timothy, hanging up the phone. 

Wanda peered under the bed. “It would seem the front desk is wrong. Unless it’s invisible, there’s nothing under here but dust.” 

Timothy went to the wardrobe and took down the iron. “Here’s the iron,” he said handing it to her. “They said if we needed anything else, Harry’s on his way up here to deliver towels to another room.” 

Wanda began heating up the iron and got a large towel from the bathroom. “I’ll just make do with the dresser for now since we’re now pressed for time.” 

“We wouldn’t be if you let that ironing go.” 

_Oh, Timothy, what are you suggesting? She would never be caught dead in a blouse with even one little crease.  
_

“Well, I’ll just ask him to get us a board while he’s up here. That way you’ll be set for the morning. I know how much you enjoy a good ironing session before breakfast. No holiday would be complete without one.” 

_Just hold your tongue and iron, Wanda. Don’t answer the way you really want to._

“Thank you, Love," she said sweetly. 

Timothy opened the door in time to see Harry handing a stack of towels to someone standing in the open doorway of Benedict’s room. Unfortunately, Harry stood waiting in front of the doorway, effectively blocking Timothy’s view. 

_I need to see who’s in that room. It can’t possibly be Benedict, can it? We left him downstairs, but I suppose he could have come up.  
_

He used the swing lock to keep the door from shutting and ventured out into the hallway as far as he dared. 

_What the fuck? Who in the hell did he give towels to? If it were Benedict, I’d be able to see the top of his head as he’s taller than Harry. There’s one way to find out for sure.  
_

Timothy withdrew his mobile and sent a quick text to Benedict: 

**How’s your mother’s dinner coming along? I’m waiting for her to iron the wrinkle out of her blouse.**

Harry had heard Timothy open the door behind him and turned while he waited patiently for Donna to return with the dirty towels. 

“Good evening, Sir. Can I get you anything?” 

“Yes, an ironing board would be dandy,” said Timothy, tugging his earlobe. “There doesn’t seem to be one in the room. The front desk said it’s under the bed, but there’s nothing there.” 

“I’ll be with you in a minute,” said Harry. “I’m just finishing up here, and then I’ll go down to the storeroom and fetch you one.” 

Timothy’s text chime went off to announce Benedict’s reply: 

**The server said it will be out in just a bit. Coffee and pudding has already been served. I took the liberty of ordering you the blackberry crumble with custard and a coffee with half-skim.** _  
_

Timothy nodded to himself and quickly responded: _  
_

 **Thank you! I’ll see what I can do about moving her along.**

Timothy shoved the mobile in his pocked and turned to go back into his room, when the sound of what sounded like Donna Saint James’ voice stopped him dead in his tracks. He craned his neck but Harry still continued to block his view from seeing who was in his son’s room. 

 

****************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

 

“Here are the used towels,” said Donna handing a neatly folded stack to Harry, who began to laugh. “I’m sorry there’s so many.” 

“Oh, you didn’t have to fold them, Miss. I’m only going to toss them into the laundry bin.” 

_Wait until he sees the tray and that I rinsed the plates, glassware and cutlery. He’ll really think I’m a nut.  
_

Donna’s face reddened slightly.   “I’ll get the tray.” 

“I’ve got both arms full, Miss; so just leave it on the floor. I have to come back up in a few minutes anyway, so I’ll collect it then.”

 

**************************************************************************************************************************************************************************** 

 

Timothy quickly moved back into his room, quietly closing the door behind him. Wanda had just finished buttoning up her blouse and was brushing her hair. 

“There! Now, I feel presentable!” She said looking at her reflection in the mirror. 

“Christ on a crutch! I fucking can’t believe it!” Exclaimed Timothy in exasperation. 

“Okay! Don’t get so excited! I’m ready,” said Wanda picking up her handbag. “I really didn’t take all that long, Tim.” 

“I’m not cross with you, Pet. It’s just that I hate to have to ask you for that tenner back.” 

Wanda raised an eyebrow. “A bet is a bet, Timothy Cumberbatch. I earned that ten quid fair and square. If you want it, you’re going to have to try and take it.” 

Timothy crossed the room and made a motion to stick his hand in her cleavage. Wanda playfully slapped it away. 

“You’re acting very strange tonight! First, you’re randy as hell. Then you’re in a hurry to go downstairs. Now, you’re wanting to play again! What’s wrong with you?” 

“Because it turns out I _did_ win the bet,” explained Timothy. “Donna Saint James is in Benedict’s room.” 

“Hells bells! Are you sure?” 

Timothy nodded. “Harry brought towels to Ben’s room, and she answered the door.” 

Wanda regarded her husband skeptically. “Are you absolutely sure it was her?” 

“Yes. I couldn’t see her, but I know the sound of her voice when I hear it.” 

“But did you actually see her with your own eyes?” 

“Harry was blocking my view, but I definitely recognized her voice.” 

Wanda pushed past him and looked out through the peephole. 

“Which room is his?” 

“Number 18. Across and two doors down.” 

“The door’s shut. By the way your mobile is lying on the floor in the middle of the hallway.” 

“Fuck! It must have fallen out of my pocket. Let’s go downstairs before Barrister Ben decides to come upstairs to check on us.” 

Wanda didn’t budge. She kept her eye glued to the peephole. 

“I’ve got a better idea. Why don’t we ring Ben’s room and see if she answers?” 

“I already told you, Wanda. It was her. There’s nothing wrong with my hearing.” 

“Indulge me, Tim; but I want to hear her voice for myself. Besides, she won’t know who’s ringing the room. There’s no way she can trace it.” 

Timothy fixed her with a look. 

“I see we’re back to covert operations, Commander. It’s really _not_ a good idea, Wanda. I wish you wouldn’t.” 

“I’m afraid we’re already in covert operation mode – that ship set sail the minute you picked up that newspaper and began spying on her in the lobby.” 

“How did you know I was hiding behind the newspaper?” 

Wanda snorted. “I’m very familiar with _your_ methods of surveillance.” 

“This was simply observing. _Nothing more_ ,” sniffed Timothy indignantly. “I was having a nice cuppa and some biscuits while reading the afternoon paper.” 

“Bollocks! That was definitely spying and what do you call it when you went up to Ben’s room and knocked on the door?” demanded Wanda. 

“ _That_ was bollocks. I ran back in here before he could answer. Now, if you would please step aside, there’s a mobile in the hallway that I need to retrieve. The last thing on earth I would want to do is attempt to explain how it got there to Barrister Ben.” 

“Off you go then! You do that, while I ring the room,” said Wanda briskly, going to the nightstand and picking up the room phone receiver. “Hmmm…let’s see…the instructions on this plastic card say all I have to do is dial eight and then the room number for room-to-room calls.” 

“I _really_ wish you wouldn’t,” sighed Timothy as he entered the hallway, once again using the swing lock to prop the door open behind him. 

As Timothy bent over to pick up his mobile, the door to Benedict’s room suddenly opened. He felt a wave of panic wash over him. 

_Shit! If only I could straighten up faster. Damn back.  
_

*****************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

 

Donna Saint James stepped out of the room, holding a dinner tray. She used her bottom to hold the door open as she began to bend down. The first thing in her line of vision was Timothy Cumberbatch bent over picking up a cellphone off the floor in the middle of the hallway. 

_NOOOOOOOOOOOO!   I need to get back inside the room! Now!  
_

 

_***************************************************************************************************************************************************************************_

 

Wanda sat on the bed and dialed Benedict’s room number. She could hear a phone begin to ring from what sounded like out in the hallway. 

_They certainly have rubbish sound-proofing in these rooms. Good thing I have a fan to drown out the noise, because that’s pretty loud. Wait. She must have opened the door to his room!  
_

Wanda set the receiver down on the bed and ran to the door in time to see her husband and Donna Saint James lock eyes. She pushed the door open and stood in the doorway, watching the scene before her. 

 

******************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

 

Timothy straightened up and came face-to-face with Donna. Donna quickly straightened up and the room door closed on its own behind her. 

“Fuck!” she exclaimed as she tried the door to find it had also automatically locked. 

_I’m locked out here in the hallway with Benedict’s father dressed for seduction, while his lover is in the room across the hall doing God knows what; and poor unsuspecting Benedict is downstairs having his dessert.  
_

Timothy smiled a bit at Donna and took a hesitant step towards her and started to extend his hand in greeting. 

_I can’t believe Benedict is having an affair with her! It’s not my place to meddle in his business, which is Wanda’s function. I suppose I need to turn on my mouth filter and be as cordial as possible under the circumstances._

“Well, so we meet again Donna. What’s that old saying?” 

_I’m trapped like a rat. I need to make the best of this and get back in the room before Benedict returns. Oh, look! He wants to shake hands with me – no way in hell!_

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” she replied coldly. 

_We really do. This is bad. I need to find Harry in a hurry and get him to let me back in.  
_

Timothy studied Donna. She was wearing a short, black silk kimono-style robe that was tied around her waist. She was barefoot and her ankle was in an elastic bandage. _  
_

_I don’t know what else to say to her – perhaps: So Donna, are you shagging my son? No, Timothy. You’re an old Harrovian – act like one and show her how a former public school-educated man is supposed to act when faced with his son's strumpet.  
_

Donna and Timothy both regarded each other, neither saying a thing. Wanda remained in the doorway, not sure whether to make her presence known or not. 

_Donna looks angry. I wonder why? Perhaps it’s because she’s out here in the hallway dressed in that short robe in front of us. At least I can rest assured that Tim won’t run off at the mouth like Benedict or I would.  
_

Donna stooped down and put the tray on the floor. The robe parted to show a good portion of bare legs. 

_I bet she has nothing on under that robe_ , thought Wanda. _She must have been giving my son his birthday present, no wonder he seemed so happy and relaxed._

_She does have rather nice legs,_ thought Timothy for a fleeting moment. 

_He’s looking at my legs. Like father, like son. Jeez_. 

_What’s this? She’s wearing an elastic bandage around her ankle. That’s why she wasn’t with Benedict downstairs,_ thought Wanda. _She must be having trouble walking and can’t do those stairs. I do like her nail art._

Donna slowly rose, tossed her hair back and folded her arms across her chest. 

“So how are you doing, Donna?” asked Timothy in a quasi-friendly tone. 

“Not as well as _you_ apparently,” she smirked. 

“Why are you scowling at me like that?” inquired Timothy with a raised eyebrow. 

_Just say you’re fine and not scowling, Donna. Don’t tell him off. Leave it be. It’s none of your business…..but what if I happen to marry into his family? I don’t know if I could stand being around a two-timing father-in-law and pretend everything is normal._

“I’m _not_ scowling,” insisted Donna. “I’m just disgusted at _your_ behavior.” 

_Donna, watch what you say to him. He is Benedict’s father and your potential father-in-law. You need to get along with him. Don’t let your temper get the best of you._

Timothy looked honestly taken aback. “What are you talking about? This is the second time you started to say something. A few weeks ago at the _Cabin Pressure_ recording you seemed poised to tell me off when Jimmy Rhodes interrupted our conversation. If you have something on your mind, off with it then!” 

_Don’t do it Donna. No matter how much you want to. Look at Wanda standing there so innocently while Ben’s sweet little mother is working so hard filming her ass off and missing her family!  
_

“You want to know what’s wrong? Fine. I can’t stand the fact that you’re having an affair right under Benedict’s nose with that woman!” Donna blurted out, pointing at Wanda. 

_What the heck? An affair? She thinks I’m Tim’s lover?  
_

Donna took a step towards Wanda. “And here I thought you were so nice all this time, when you’re nothing more than a two-bit tramp!” 

_She thinks I’m having an affair with my wife? What the fuck? Where did she get a rubbish idea like that?_

Timothy turned to look at Wanda incredulously, who immediately glowered and put her hands on her hips, ready to defend herself. 

“Excuse me? What did you just call me?” 

“A two-bit tramp,” spat Donna angrily. “And you’re no better!” she continued, turning her wrath on Timothy.   “You’re the worst offender! You show up at the _Cabin Pressure_ recording with your wife AND lover in tow. Where are _your_ morals, Tim? How could you do that to Benedict?” 

_Oh, she’s totally going down the wrong path,_ thought Timothy. _This is like when Wanda goes off half-cocked._

“Donna. Please listen to me…” began Timothy in a reasonable tone. 

“How dare you speak to us like that?” Wanda barked at Donna. “You haven’t a clue what you’re talking about you little tart!” 

Donna glowered. “How dare you call me a tart? Just who in the hell do you think you’re talking to, Lady?” 

“Where are your manners? You have no respect! I’m old enough to be your mother!” 

_Grandmother is more like it, but I’m not going to press the point.  
_

“You may be older, but you’re certainly not wiser!” said Donna haughtily. 

“That’s enough ladies!” snapped Timothy. 

Donna and Wanda both shut up and exchanged glares. The looked like mirror images of each other, with their arms folded across their chests. _  
_

The only sound was that of the phone ringing incessantly in Donna’s room.

“Wanda, I think it best if you go back into our room,” said Timothy quietly. 

Wanda started to open her mouth and shut it as soon as Timothy shot her a withering look. She turned and retreated into the room, leaving the door open so she could still hear what was going on. 

“Damn! I’m locked out! It may be Benedict calling,” Donna said, wringing her hands. “I’ve got to get back in there.” 

Suddenly the phone stopped ringing. 

“Oh, no!  I may have missed an important call,” sighed Donna. “My cellphone is in there, too.” 

“I really doubt it was anything important,” said Timothy dismissively. 

“How would you know?” 

“He's right. Not to worry, Donna. That was just me ringing Benedict’s room,” said Wanda from the doorway. 

Donna blinked and shook her head. 

“Why on earth would you do something like that when you know he’s downstairs?” 

“We wanted to see if you were in his room.” 

_What the fuck?_

“May I ask why you would do something like that?” 

“No,” said Wanda simply. “You may not.” 

Donna raised her eyebrow. “Wait a minute here. I think I have the right….”

"You have no rights in my book, you brazen little..."

“We’ll get back to that later _Ladies_ ,” interrupted Timothy curtly. “Getting back to your accusation, Miss Saint James; may I ask just how in bloody hell did you come to such a conclusion?” 

Donna shot him a scornful look. “It was easily, actually. Especially when you two don’t try very hard to hide it! My sister and I saw you and Wanda having a rendezvous in the crypt in Saint Paul’s Cathedral!” 

Timothy looked shocked. “You were spying on us?” he asked in disbelief. “That wasn’t a rendezvous! We were just having afternoon tea for fucks sake!” 

_And my Sherborne manners just flew out the window. My former Headmaster would be appalled. Anyway - Farewell! This bird is totally crackers!_

“We weren’t spying! We were there to taste their tea, and my sister was the one who spotted you in the first place. I was just…” 

_Being nosy. She’s nosy just like Benedict, bless him. They really should be together,_ thought Wanda. _They could join forces and snoop together and raise smalls just like them._

“You didn’t make yourselves known to us. I call that spying in my book,” snorted Timothy with a superior air. 

“You’re free to call it whatever _you_ want, but we _weren’t_ spying. We just happened to be sitting close enough to see and hear you.”

"Just as I said:  you were spying," insisted Timothy. 

_Okay, Donna. Get hold of that temper. Technically you and Carly were eavesdropping. It’s time to shut up and get back into that room._

“I can’t believe Carly would lower herself to spy on us!” exclaimed Wanda from the doorway. “She’s such a nice girl. _You_ , on the other hand, don’t surprise me for a minute.” 

Timothy looked over his shoulder. “Please stay out of this, Pet,” he snapped. 

“I know what I saw, Tim. You and Wanda were having a romantic rendezvous in a House of God. It doesn’t get any more blasphemous than that, does it?” 

_It does, but she doesn’t need to know about that_ , thought Wanda. _The summer we were in Greece and Benedict was taking dares from the older boys to expose himself in front of the church. Now that was blasphemous...and totally humiliating.  The priest was very understanding - especially when we gave him that generous donation for the church building fund._

“For fucks sake! You have it all wrong, Donna,” insisted Timothy, running his hand through his silver hair. 

“Oh, I don’t think so! How gullible I was that afternoon at the Orangery! I really thought you two didn’t know each other. At first, I thought you were just a nosy man listening in on our conversation…” 

“Look who’s talking. _I’m_ nosy? That’s preposterous,” chortled Timothy with a dismissive wave of his hand. 

“Yes, you were! I suspected you were texting each other, but couldn’t figure out why you would such a thing. If you were together, then you both would have sat at the same table. It was weird, so I just brushed it off.” 

_Hells bells! She was a lot more observant than I gave her credit for,_ thought Wanda. _I warned Tim about the texting and sitting at neighboring tables!  
_

 _We’re busted. Perhaps Wanda and I had better sort things out with her before Benedict starts ringing my mobile or worse yet comes us here looking for us. Thank God the majority of the cast and crew are downstairs in the restaurant or bar._

Timothy turned to look at Wanda, who rolled her eyes and shook her head. 

“Donna, please come into our room so we can sit and talk in a civilized manner,” began Wanda. “There’s no need to have a row in the hallway.” 

_I don’t want to talk to them! I’ve probably shot my mouth off too much already, but they really think that what they did was perfectly fine! Such hypocrites! I need to finish this and get back into the room._

“When I got back from the restroom and saw you two talking, I had convinced myself that it was just a case of some harmless flirting. Then afterwards while I’m walking around in the palace gardens, I see you two kissing on a bench near the Orangery! I could hear your conversation perfectly from where I was! You professed your love for each other for God’s sake!” Donna pointed at Wanda. “You told me your poor husband was home sick, yet you were carrying on in public like some wanton femme fatale. Good gravy! Do you two have any scruples at all?” 

“How in blazes did you hear us?” demanded Timothy. “You were nowhere near us!” 

Donna’s face reddened slightly. 

“I was standing in the bushes behind the bench you were sitting on.” 

Timothy stepped back and laughed harshly. “You were hiding in the bloody bushes?” He looked at Wanda in disbelief.  "Did you hear that, Wanda?  She just admitted to hiding in the motherfucking bushes so she could spy on us!"

"I'm hearing the same things that you are, Timothy," confirmed Wanda.  "You really have no shame, my dear," she said to Donna.  "I would have thought your parents would have raised you better than that."

“There is a perfectly good reason why I was in the bushes. I was taking photos of the flowers,” scoffed Donna. "I needed to get closer." 

“Oh, really now?” asked Timothy sarcastically. 

“Yes. _Really_. I wanted to send my parents photos of the gardens,” responded Donna. “I needed to get closer to my subjects, so I stepped into the bushes.”

 _Oh, that really sounded creepy_ , thought Donna. _Just like a stalker._

“ _We_ were your _subjects._ Sorry, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to call your bluff then,” countered Timothy. “There were no flowers planted in that area. Just hedgerows and bushes. Believe me, Donna, I’ve lived in the area for the past forty-five years; so I know the layout of those gardens like the back of my hand.” 

“If I had my cellphone with me, I’d show you the photos of the flowers…” began Donna meekly. 

“We’re going to have to tell her,” said Timothy throwing up his hands in surrender. “As much as we don’t want to, Wanda, it’s time.” 

Wanda nodded in full agreement. “Donna! If you would just be quiet for one minute….” 

“Tell me what? You’re going to try and justify to me why you two are having an affair under Benedict’s mother’s nose?” demanded Donna. “Not to mention your own husband and son, Wanda! Carly and I saw you having coffee with them from the Carldonn window a few weeks ago. You were sitting at a table in front of Pauls. What about them? Doesn’t your family mean anything to you?”

 _Christ! She’s so much like Benedict once she gets into a tizzy,_ thought Timothy. _They just keep going full-steam ahead._

“She has to be talking about Joss and Adam!” exclaimed Wanda, realization slowly setting in. “That day we had the break from the read-through – remember, I was having a coffee with Joss and Adam at Paul’s in Paternoster Square.” 

“She’s also talking about Una!” added Timothy. 

“Who in the hell is Una?” demanded Donna. “And Joss and Adam?” 

Wanda took a step out of the doorway. “This has turned into a terrible misunderstanding that can all be sorted out in a few minutes.” 

Timothy held up a hand to silence both his wife and Donna. “Wait just a minute! First of all, Una isn’t my….” 

“I don’t care what _you_ have to say!” snarled Donna. “How can you do this to Benedict? What about _his_ feelings?” 

Timothy could feel his anger rising _. Wait a minute here. She’s busy tacking on all these accusations, when she’s here trying to seduce my son while Jimmy Rhodes is in London.  
_

Wanda came to stand beside Timothy. “We need to do this in private, Tim,” said Wanda softly, touching Timothy’s forearm. “Please come back in the room with me. We’ll order up some tea.” 

Timothy shrugged away from his wife. “No we don’t need to do this in private. We’re going to finish this right here and now,” growled Timothy . “While we’re on the subject of infidelity, Donna, might I be so bold as to inquire why you’re here in my son’s room?” 

Donna tossed her hair defiantly. “You can ask whatever you like, Tim; but to be quite frank, it’s none of your business why I’m here.” 

“Oh _really_? Aren’t you the cheeky one, my dear? _You_ were quite quick to label _us_ adulterers without listening to an explanation, yet here you are in Benedict’s room – wearing that revealing robe no less – while you’re dating Jimmy Rhodes!” said Wanda, her temper rising again. “How could you do that to Jimmy? He’s such a fine young man!” 

Donna pulled the robe closer around her. “I’m not dating James Rhodes!” she cried. “We’re good friends!” 

“ _Bollocks!_ The three of us saw you cuddling with him at the _Cabin Pressure_ recording,” countered Wanda testily. “Then you’re prancing around wearing Benedict’s cardigan, while Benedict’s prancing around wearing your lipstick – can _you_ explain _that_?” 

“Of course I can! It was cold in that studio; and Benedict lent me his sweater.” 

“What about the lipstick? Was that how you thanked him? I bet Jimmy wasn’t thrilled with that…” 

“You’re not letting me explain, Wanda,” said Donna. “How about coming up for air?” 

Wanda would not be stopped at this point. “You were flirting with my son’s best friend at the Parliament Hill Farmer’s Market! I’ve seen the photos!” 

“Shush, Wanda!” said Timothy sharply. “She didn’t need to know that,” he hissed. 

_Her son’s best friend? Does she mean Benedict is Ben Ventham’s best friend?_

“I was not cuddling with James, Wanda! James and I were not at _Cabin Pressure_ together.” 

“Well, I don’t know what you call it, but it looked to me as if you were there as a couple,” scoffed Timothy. “James himself told me that day in the cafe that you two were dating.” 

“Hello, Mr. Cumberbatch,” called Harry, walking down the hallway with an ironing board. “Shall I set it up in your room then?” 

_Oh, you have such bad timing, Harry!_ thought Wanda disgustedly. _Bless.  
_

 _Thank God! Harry, you’ve got great timing!_ Thought Donna. 

Timothy paused in mid-sentence. “Oh, hello Harry. No. That’s fine. I’ll take it. Thank you. We must talk later, Donna. We’ll call or text your mobile.” With that Timothy shooed Wanda into their room and disappeared behind her with the ironing board. He quickly shut the door behind him. 

“No, we don’t. We’ve said everything that needed to be said,” called out Donna after him. She turned her attention to Harry and smiled as pleasantly as possible. 

“Harry, I’m locked out again. Can you please let me in?” 

“You’ve quite the talent for that!” teased Harry as he picked up her dinner tray. “You’re also lucky that I happen to have the master key on me.” 

Donna noticed he was surveying the neatly stacked dishes and folded serviette with amusement. 

“You know you didn’t have to do the washing up, Miss. We’ve got a dishwasher in the kitchen.” 

Donna felt her face redden again as Harry unlocked the door. 

_I sure am my mother’s daughter. Carly will just love this_. 

“Old habits die hard,” she said quietly.

 

 

*************************************************************

 

Timothy closed the door behind him and regarded his wife, who was pacing back and forth in front of the window. 

“We’ve got the motherfucking ironing board, so where do you want it?”

“Under the bed,” replied Wanda briskly. 

_Of course she doesn’t need it anymore, bless her.  
_

Timothy slid the board under the bed and sat down heavily on the armchair by the window. He could hear the rain pounding down on the roof. 

“Well then?” he ventured. 

“This is just awful, Tim! She’s got the wrong idea about us. How in the hell did she ever come to the conclusion that we’re married to different people and having an affair with each other?” 

Timothy sighed heavily. “When you think about everything she said, Wanda, it makes perfect sense. After all, we were operating in spy mode that afternoon at the Orangery, yes?” 

“I recall telling you not to text me!” 

“You were texting me back. It would have been rude not to respond.” 

“Bugger off, Timothy! Stop being so cheeky! Had she not been snooping about like Miss Marple, she wouldn’t have gotten the wrong impression. She thinks Joss is my husband!” 

Timothy looked at his wife in alarm. “Which means she thinks Adam….” 

“Is my son,” finished Wanda. “For some strange reason she thinks Adam is Benedict.” 

“That would explain the flirting in the market,” said Timothy. 

“But we sent her Benedict’s photo. She knows Benedict obviously. I’m totally confused,” sighed Wanda. 

There was a loud knock on the door. 

“It’s her! She’s changed her mind and wants to talk to us!” said Wanda, crossing the room to answer the door. 

“Okay then. Better we get this sorted out before Benedict comes looking for us. I’ll text him that you’re not well, and we’re turning in early.” 

Wanda looked through the peephole in the door and sighed loudly. 

“Don’t bother texting Ben. He’s the one who knocked on the door.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. The story of Benedict exposing himself comes from the very entertaining Dawn French/Jennifer Saunders interview back from 2011: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r8Mk6oODZuo&index=22&list=PLSebUCmWArzKSYAopCNth01Cew4G7jX3X
> 
> 2\. After Benedict's engagement announcement, I had seriously considered stopping the story here. I thought no one would want to continue reading being we now know the real life ending. However, thanks to the support and encouragement from some of my readers, I've decided to continue sharing the story. Thank you to all those who left me comments! xx
> 
> 3\. I wonder if the real Wanda is doing cartwheels somewhere? So, how do you all feel about the engagement?
> 
> 4\. Please forgive any slips in continuity - this wasn't easy to pull together. LOL


	65. Chapter 65

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Donna, Timothy and Wanda come to several realizations. Benedict and Wanda play a game of wits. Donna's secret inadvertently travels across the Pond. 
> 
> Note: I’ll be using ********* to indicate things going on at the same time.

 

Donna Saint James closed and locked the door behind her. She leaned back against it and tried to take a deep breath. Her head was reeling from all that had just transpired in the hallway.

_Good gravy! I can’t breathe, let alone think, in this damn tight corset!  
_

Donna removed the robe, which she carelessly flung onto the bed and undid the fasteners to the corset. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. _  
_

_AHHHH! That’s so much better! Now, just what in the hell happened out there? Well, for starters, I just ranted at my boyfriend’s father – and my possible future father-in-law – for having an affair behind my boyfriend’s back, which now that I think about it, may or may not be true. Not to mention I also made my accusations in front of his lover, which probably wasn’t the wisest thing to do.  
_

Donna opened the refrigerator and selected a can of Diet Coke. She popped open the top, took a long swallow and burped loudly from the carbonation.

_How ladylike, Donna. Good thing Benedict wasn’t here to hear that, though he hasn’t been shy about burping in front of me lately. Ugh!  
_

She drank some more of the cold soda while opening the box of chocolates and pondering the tempting selection. Benedict had eaten two of them. Donna helped herself to one of the milk-chocolate covered, salted caramel squares and took a bite. The buttery, caramel oozed into her mouth.

_Mmmm…these are good! I hope Benedict tastes like this, but somehow I doubt it.  
_

Donna sat on the bed, sipping the cola and going over what had happened in the hallway when she noticed her cellphone peeking out from under the robe. The message light was blinking.

_Jeez Louise! I left Benedict in the middle of a text message!  
_

Donna scrambled for the phone and scrolled to her text messages. There were several from Benedict. She re-read their conversation before she had gone to see who was in the hallway:

 

**I just wanted you to know that I’m still down here. B  
**

**I had a feeling since you’re not up here. D  
**

**Don’t be so damn cheeky. B  
**

**Your text is coming off as grumpy. D  
**

**It’s because I am. There’s been a delay. B  
**

**Care to share?   D**

**Got to go. Harry must be here with the extra towels I ordered for the morning and to get my dinner tray. BRB. Dx**

Donna read the next few lines and felt a chill go up her spine. **  
**

**My mum is here! She drove down from Yorkshire with an old friend to surprise me. B  
**

**Donna? Are you there? B  
**

**I had no idea she was coming until they walked into the dining room. B  
**

_Holy fucking hell! Benedict’s mother is here, and Tim’s lover is here.  
_

**She’s going to have dinner, and then I’ll come right up afterwards. I know she and my dad will want to stay and socialize with some of their old friends in the cast. B  
**

_Don’t be so sure about that, Benedict. Your father has his lover stashed away in his room…wait a minute. What is Tim going to do with his wife? Surely, she would stay in his room? There is something weird going on here._ **  
**

**Donna? Why aren’t you texting back? Please don’t be angry with me! B  
**

**This is totally out of my control. It’s not like I planned to cock it up! B  
**

_OH shit! He thinks I’m mad at him. I can’t have him thinking that.  
_

**If you get bored watching the telly, you are welcome to use my laptop. My password is B7619Cumber197. I’ll be up as soon as I can. I love you. Bxx  
**

_Good gravy – not only is his name long, but his passwords are too! I’ll just make sure to save it for future use.  
_

Donna quickly texted back to Benedict. **  
**

**I’m not angry.   I had a sudden urge to use the bathroom and couldn’t wait. See you later. Dxoxo  
**

Donna only had to wait a minute for his response.

**Brilliant! Are you alright? B  
**

_That’s a loaded question by many standards.  
_

**Yup. D  
**

**Until later then. Cheers. Bx  
**

Donna started to turn on the TV, but Wanda’s words from their confrontation kept coming back to her:

 

**_“You were flirting with my son’s best friend at the Parliament Hill Farmer’s Market!”_   
**

**_“She has to be talking about Joss and Adam! That day we had the break from the read-through – remember I was having a coffee with Joss and Adam at Paul’s in Paternoster Square.”  
_ **

**_“She’s also talking about Una!”_ ** **Timothy had chimed in.  
**

_Something is definitely not right. Wanda said I was flirting with Benedict’s best friend. Benedict’s best friend’s name is Adam Ackland. She said she was having coffee with Joss and Adam in Paternoster Square. Does this mean that Joss – whoever he is – and Adam are not her husband and son after all? Carly and I saw Wanda having coffee with a man named Joss and Benedict’s best friend, Adam Ackland.  
_

Donna got up and went to the window. She folded up Benedict’s now dry umbrella and lay it on top of his suitcase. _  
_

_I was flirting with Benedict’s best friend at the market because I thought he was Ben Ventham. Holy cow!  
_

_Next question: Who in the hell is Ben Ventham? Wanda sent me a photo of Adam Ackland and said it was her son, whose name is supposed to be Ben Ventham – well, I came up with that on my own. She always referred to her son as ‘Ben’ or ‘my son’. I was the one who automatically assumed Ventham was her married name.  
_

_Could Adam be Wanda’s son with this Joss? Joss must be her husband – I need to look up Adam online. He’s in the film business, so there must be something on him. Benedict said several times that he’s a director.  
_

Donna got up and crossed the room to the desk. She booted up Benedict’s laptop. She entered Benedict’s password and smiled at the screensaver. It was a photograph Carly had taken of them in Hyde Park. Benedict was leaning back against a tree, and Donna was standing in front of him, leaning back against him. Benedict had his arms wrapped around her waist, and they were both smiling at the camera.  

_Aww…I like that he used this photo. It’s one of my favorites, too. Hmmm…look at all these folders. I can always come back to these…especially the one marked ‘pics’. I bet there’s a lot of interesting things in that one!  
_

Donna did a search for Adam Ackland. There wasn’t much information on Adam. However; it was enough for Donna’s purposes.

_Voila! He’s an actor, turned Assistant Director! He’s married to Alice Felton, a set decorator. That’s them alright. Now, who is Joss? Let me indulge my hunch._

Donna did a search for Joss Ackland and was rewarded with plenty of information on the famous actor and his family.

_Okay. Joss must be Adam’s father – he’s a widower. It says nothing about him ever being married or linked to Wanda in any way. Oh, wait – what’s this? Ah ha! Adam is mentioned but as one of Joss’ grandchildren. His father’s name is Toby. Could Adam be the love child of Wanda and Adam’s father? And for some reason he uses Ventham personally and Ackland professionally? No, he doesn’t, Donna. Benedict always refers to him as Ackland. That’s not it._

Donna heard several voices in the hallway and got up to look through the peephole.

_If I didn’t know better, I’d say that sounds just like Benedict’s deep rumble._

She looked out into the hallway. There stood Benedict in the doorway to Timothy’s room, laughing and talking.

_For God’s sake! He does know about them!_

 

*************************************************************

“Open the door and let’s just go downstairs,” said Timothy hoisting himself out of the comfortable armchair. “If we invite him in, it will be asking for the full interrogation.”

“I don’t think I’m up to dealing with Barrister Ben tonight!” laughed Wanda. “We need time to mull over what just happened out there before we act.”

“Agreed, Commander. I patiently await further instructions from you.”

“Hellooooo? Anybody in there?” came Benedict’s voice from the hallway.

Wanda flung open the door.   “Hellllooooo yourself! We’re both in here! Where else would we be?” she said brightly.

Benedict laughed nervously as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Erm…well…I never quite know what I’m going to interrupt sometimes with you two….”

 

***********************************************************************************************************************************************************************

 

Donna had opened the door to the room just a crack so as to better hear the conversation going on across the hall:

“Hellllooooo yourself! We’re both in here! Where else would we be?” said Wanda as Timothy joined her at the door and handed her a black leather handbag.

Benedict was laughing nervously and rubbing the back of his neck.

“Erm…well…I never quite know what I’m going to interrupt sometimes with you two….”

 _Holy cow! He does know about them!   I can’t believe Benedict would keep something like this from me! Maybe he’s embarrassed?_   

Wanda and Timothy stepped into the hallway. Timothy chuckled as he closed the door to the room behind him.

“Did you think we were having a tryst before dinner?” he inquired with a raised eyebrow.

“Heavens no!” scoffed Benedict, running his hand through his hair, face slightly reddened.

Timothy and Wanda exchanged glances and started to giggle.

“Well, you happen to be right – you never know with us!” Timothy laughed, winking at his wife. “We’ll be having the tryst later!”

Benedict regarded Wanda. He noted that she looked a bit anxious, as did his father.

_I definitely interrupted something – the question is what? They seem a bit….agitated. I definitely do not detect any hints of romance in the air._

“Your dinner is ready, and they’re keeping it warm in the kitchen.   It was taking you much longer than usual, so I thought I’d come up to see if everything was alright. I rang the room phone, but it was engaged…and neither of you are answering your bloody mobiles.”

Wanda walked over to Benedict and stroked his cheek. “You’re such a dear to be so concerned about us all the time. I love you for that!”

Benedict smiled at her warmly. “And I love you, too.”   He enveloped Wanda in his arms and hugged her tightly. “I’m so glad you thought to come.”

“I wouldn’t miss your birthday for anything in the world!” exclaimed Wanda. “However, I did cock things up by leaving your gift at home.”

_Well, he definitely knows what’s going on between them. He certainly gets along well enough with Wanda. It’s clear as could be that they adore each other. Wanda is very likeable, and she was even thoughtful enough to buy him a birthday gift. How fucked up is this relationship?_

Benedict looked down at Wanda and smiled. “Not to worry. I’ll just come around to collect my gift next Sunday.”

_We’re supposed to have dinner with his parents next Sunday – that’s when I’m going to finally meet his mother. I guess Wanda must live nearby, which would make it easier for Timothy to digress from his marriage vows._

“Ah!” said Timothy, holding up his index finger. “Well, it’s a good thing you’ve kept me around all these years, Wanda; because I just happened to remember his gift and brought it along with me. It’s in the wardrobe on the top shelf.”

_He was in her home and picked up the gift? He has a key to her house? Perhaps he was house-sitting while she was away? What about her husband? This is getting weirder and weirder._

Wanda clapped her hands together. “Brilliant! I can always count on you, Tim! We’ll come back up and open your gift after dinner, Ben.”

_Noooooooooooo!   He needs to come back in here and open me up instead! I notice she calls him ‘Ben’. There is a definite familiarity – well, of course there is, Donna! He’s known her for years. She’s his mother’s good friend.  
_

“As long as my gift doesn’t involve more owl socks!” teased Benedict.

_Shit! She’s in on the owl socks joke? That’s tacky, Wanda. That’s between him and his mother….and me now; but I’m the official girlfriend!  
_

“And speaking of owls – feast your eyes on these!” giggled Benedict as he pulled up his trouser leg to reveal the socks Donna had given him.

_Noooooooo! What is he doing? Don’t tell them I gave them to you, Benedict! Turn on that damn mouth filter you’re always telling me you have.  
_

Wanda and Timothy both bent down to examine Benedict’s leg.

“Why those are just adorable!” chortled Wanda. “Where did you get those?”

“Someone’s topped you this time!” added Timothy, patting Wanda’s shoulder. “A birthday gift, I take it?”

Benedict suddenly hesitated and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Ermm….ermmm…my girlfriend gave them to me,” he smiled bashfully. “I thought they were rather cute and fun, so I thought I’d wear them being it is my birthday.”

_My honey’s mouth filter is out of order – again!_

Wanda and Timothy exchanged knowing glances.

_Why did they look at each other like that? What are those looks supposed to mean?_

“What? Problem?” Asked Benedict with a touch of defensiveness in his tone.

 _Oh, Benedict’s being touchy now! He needs to stop that_.

“Oh, no! Not at all!” replied Timothy, a bit too quickly. “We’re still getting used to the idea that you have someone special in your life again.”

“Perish the thought!” chimed in Wanda, also a bit too quickly. “It’s sweet that your bird has a good sense of humour - that’s important in a relationship.”

_Ah! Wanda approves of my choice. Like I should really care what she thinks._

“We’re looking forward to finally meeting her, Ben,” added Timothy.

_Ha! You’ve already met me – several times._

“I can’t wait!” said Wanda. “I’ve been busy planning menus.”

_Planning menus?   What for?_

Benedict chuckled. “I bet you have. I can’t wait to introduce you. I know you are all going to get along famously. Now, what about my present?”

“You’ll have to wait until I’ve had my dinner,” said Wanda.

“It’s best we be getting downstairs,” added Timothy.

As they turned to go, Donna saw Benedict cast a glance towards her door with a raised eyebrow. Donna felt as if he were looking straight at her.

_Wait! His mother is downstairs! Where in the hell is his mother? Oh…wait – Benedict texted that some of his parent’s old friends are down there. His mother came with an old friend….that old friend must be Wanda! Wanda came with Benedict’s mother! Holy hell! This is beyond fucked up!   They are all going to sit down there together and have dinner like it was no big deal….but it is obviously a secret…but what about the room situation? Could Benedict’s mother be leaving tonight after seeing him?  
_

Donna watched as the three of them walked down the hallway. Once they were out of sight, she shook her head to clear it and glanced at the bedside clock.

_Something is not right. I need to get back on that laptop. I should have at least an hour to try and find out if my suspicions are true._

_******************************************************************************************************************************************************************_

As they approached the stairwell landing, Benedict suddenly stopped.

“Erm…I think I dropped my mobile in the hallway. I’ll catch up with you downstairs,” he said abruptly.

His parents nodded and descended the stairs. Benedict trotted back down the corridor to his room. He was correct. The door was barely open a crack.

_I can’t believe Donna was eavesdropping on our conversation! Her ankle certainly recovered in a hurry.  
_

Benedict approached the door and swiftly pulled it shut with a bang. He could hear Donna’s muffled exclamation of surprise from inside. He leaned close to the door and hissed at her:

“Next time you want to eavesdrop, Darling, make sure the door isn’t open that much. I could see the light reflected on the opposite wall. I’ll be back as soon as Mum finishes eating.”

 

*************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

 

As Donna lay her hand on the door knob, the door was suddenly pulled shut with a bang, causing her to nearly jump out of her skin.

_It’s Benedict! Somehow he saw me or had a feeling I was watching and came back! Damn!_

She looked out the peephole to see Benedict’s face filling her field of vision. He leaned against the door and spoke in a low voice:

“Next time you want to eavesdrop, Darling, make sure the door isn’t open that much. I could see the light reflected on the wall. I’ll be back as soon as Mum finishes eating.”

With that he started back down the hall.

_Ask him, Donna! You already have a feeling deep down inside that you already know the answer, but ask him anyway. Ask him his mother’s name._

She quickly opened the door and called after him.

“Benedict! Wait! I need to ask you something!”

Benedict whirled around and stopped, mouth agape and eyes wide like saucers. Donna stood in the doorway, wearing a short black silky-looking robe that was hanging open to reveal what appeared to be an open black lacy corset. Her torso was partially exposed.

_Well then! Just look at her! Her boobs look fantastic. Oh Christ - This was better than seeing her in that swimsuit._

_Why is he looking at me like that? Did he not expect me to open the door?_

_OH! Shit! My corset is open!_

He jogged down the hallway to stand in front of her as if attempting to conceal her from view of any prying eyes.

“For fucks sake, Donna!   You’re boobs are on display for the entire world to see!” He blurted in a scolding tone.

Donna huffed as she retied the sash of the robe around her. “The ‘world’ is downstairs eating in the restaurant or drinking in the bar. We’re the only ones up here!”

Benedict had been looking her up and down in a manner that made Donna feel rather confident and sexy.

_He likes what he’s sees apparently. Wait until later, my dear. Then you can see it all…and hopefully you’ll still look at me like that. I’ve never had a man look at me quite like this. It’s as if he’s undressing me with those gorgeous eyes of his and committing me to memory.  
_

“Might I be so bold as to say that your breasts are quite spectacular?”

Donna blushed. “Yes. You can. That was very nice of you to say that.”

It was Benedict’s turn to blush. He rubbed the back of his neck. “I wasn’t being nice - I was paying you an honest compliment. I meant what I said…and if you need further proof, I’m starting to get stiff.” He looked down meaningfully at his crotch.

Donna regarded the slight bulge in his trousers. “Oh. Well, I’ll be more than happy to take care of that for you when you come back. It’ll be your incentive to move things along.”

He pointedly looked down at her bandaged ankle and then raised his eyebrows questioningly at her.

“Is your ankle feeling better yes?”

“Yeah. The elastic bandage enables me to walk around on it. I iced it again, too, which helps tremendously.”

Benedict looked back over his shoulder towards the front stairs and returned his gaze to Donna, taking care to focus on her face rather than her chest.

“What did you want to ask me? Do you need me to get you anything? Or did you want to apologize for spying on me?” he asked with a smirk on his handsome face. “You know if you’re going to do it properly, you really need to watch the wall across from the door when you plan on opening it like that. The beam of light on the wall was what gave you away.”

Donna rolled her eyes. “Rehearsing for _Sherlock_ already?”

Benedict snorted. “Of course not! I’ve just had it happen to me countless times before I got wise to how to do it without being detected. I’m just trying to save you from future embarrassment.”

“Well, well, it sounds as if you’ve had plenty of practice perfecting your eavesdropping technique! I will take your expert advice and file it away for any future…..opportunities to be curious.”

Benedict smiled at her. “Sod off, Donna; and I mean that in the nicest possible way. I’m _not_ in the habit of eavesdropping on others’ conversations.”

Donna fixed him with a look and rolled her eyes at him. “Oh, _really_ now? How does Benedict eavesdrop? Let me count the ways….first, at Maggie Jones’ that night when you hid behind the booth to listen to my conversation….second…”

Benedict raised a hand to stifle his laughter. “ Elizabeth Barrett Browning would turn over in her grave if she could hear you murdering her most famous sonnet!”

“I take it you are acquainted with her works?”

Benedict grinned and nodded. “Oh yes.” He cleared his throat and began to recite the poem from memory:

“How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.  
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height  
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight  
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.  
I love thee to the level of everyday's  
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.  
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;  
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.  
I love thee with the passion put to use  
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.  
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose  
With my lost saints – I love thee with the breath,  
Smiles, tears, of all my life! – and, if God choose,  
I shall but love thee better after death.”

Donna smiled dreamily at him. She felt as if she would swoon from his deep, sexy voice.

_Wow! I’ve got a man who can recite beautiful poetry from memory…how lucky am I? Not one of my prior boyfriends had any interest in poetry. Oh, that voice! I could stand here in my scanty panties and listen to him all night….which reminds me – time to get back into the room before someone not only sees me in this getup, but I also have work to do on his laptop._

“You don’t want your family to start missing you, Ben. You’d better head downstairs.”

He nodded and leaned down to kiss her lips. His kiss was hot and urgent. Donna found she couldn’t resist slipping him her tongue for a minute. Their tongues swirled about each other’s mouths for a minute before Benedict broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against hers.

“I really don’t want to go back down there, but you’re right. Mum will be sending up a search party for me. I’ll text you when I’m on my way back.”

“I’ll be waiting for you.”

“Oh, yeah. What did you want to ask me?”

_There’s no need, Donna. Look closely at his ice blue eyes. They have the same eyes. You know the answer. You don’t have to ask him. Confirmation is on the computer._

“It wasn’t anything important that can’t wait until later.”

“Are you sure then?”

_Yes on both accounts. Now go and go quickly! I’ve got work to do._

“Very sure. As you’re fond of saying: off you go!”

 

************************************************************************************************************************************************************

 

Wanda and Timothy stood at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for Benedict.

“She’s the one who gave him those owl socks,” commented Wanda with annoyance.

“We don’t know that for sure,” countered Timothy. “She may not be the girlfriend. Besides, I thought we had decided they were just having a fling?”

“ _You_ decided they were having a fling, and I jumped on the bandwagon.”

“I’d much rather you jump on me.”

Wanda favoured him with a saucy wink. “That will be later, my Love.” She shifted her handbag to her other shoulder. “You know I looked all over London and couldn’t find birthday-themed owl socks. I wonder where she got them?”

Timothy shrugged and looked up the stairwell impatiently.

“We seem to have lost him on the way down,” he quipped. “Perhaps he was abducted by aliens.”

Wanda sighed. “He said he had to go back for something, and I’m willing that something was Donna Saint James.”

“He said he dropped his mobile in the hallway.”

“It was never out of his pocket, Tim. His hands were free the whole time he was with us.”

Timothy thought for a moment and nodded. “I most likely didn’t slip mine into my pocket all the way, and the bloody thing fell out onto the floor. These trouser pockets aren’t all that deep.”

“I’m going back up to see what’s going on.”

“Not a good idea, Commander,” said Timothy sharply. “Pray tell, what’s your plan? Do you intend to knock on the door if he’s nowhere to be found?”

Wanda tucked her hair behind her ears. “Just give me the room key. Please. I’m going up.” With that she took the key from her husband and began to climb the stairs. “I’ll improvise once I get up there,” Wanda said, looking back over her shoulder.

“As I’ve said many times before, improvisation is not one of your strong points, Pet,” muttered Timothy.

“Blimey, Tim! Everyone was wondering what was taking you and Wanda so long,” called out Joss Ackland, who had just entered the lobby from the restaurant. “First, you and Wanda go missing on us. Then Ben volunteers to fetch you, and he goes missing.”

Timothy put an arm around Joss’s shoulder and led him back to the restaurant.

“You wouldn’t believe it if I told you. How lucky you are that your children are all married and settled down.”

“Surely Benedict’s time will come sooner rather than later. Adam says he’s got himself a bird, and it looks like she may be the one.”

“From your mouth to God’s ears, Mate! Now, I do think I fancy a rather potent nightcap to accompany my pudding.”

 

**********************************************************************************************************************************************************************

 

Wanda trudged up the stairs to the first floor landing and took a moment to catch her breath. As she took a step in the direction of the room, she immediately spotted Benedict standing in the hallway in front of his room. She could swear the door to his room had just closed.  

_Hells bells! Looks like I missed whatever happened! However, I can use this as an opportunity. What’s that old saying? Make lemons into lemonade or some such nonsense?  
_

********************************************************************************************************************************************************************

 

As Donna closed and locked the door, Benedict caught sight of Wanda walking down the hallway out of the corner of his eye.

_Shit! She came up because I was taking too long! Oh, Mum – forever the spy.   I shan’t disappoint her though. Two can play this game.  
_

Benedict nonchalantly made sure his back was to Wanda, as he took his mobile, laid it on the floor and made a great show of pretending to pick it up. He brushed it off and started down the hallway to meet his mother halfway. _  
_

“Ah, I had a feeling the search party wouldn’t be far behind,” teased Benedict as he approached his mother. “I did say I’d be right down.”

“Your idea of ‘right down’ and mine are totally different,” scoffed Wanda. “I hate to disappoint you, but I didn’t come up to fetch you. I forgot my medicine, so I came up to get it.”

Benedict frowned. “Which medicine is that?”

_Oh, Barrister Ben is at it again, bless him._

“Lipitor. For my high cholesterol. I take it after dinner.”

“You’re sticking to your diet yes?”

_Jesus Christ! Look at me – do I look like I’ve been following a diet closely to you? I do what I can, but I’m still going to enjoy my food._

“More or less,” smiled Wanda indulgently.

_Hmmmm….I beg to differ, Mum. I’ve seen what you eat.  
_

“The stuffed pork chop probably has a good deal of fat in it, Mum. They don’t trim the chop and there’s butter in the stuffing and the mash has lots of butter and cream not to mention the….” _  
_

_Time to distract him or we’ll be here all night discussing nutrition._

“It’ll be fine, Ben. I’ll trim off the fat,” said Wanda in a dismissive tone. She pointed to his hand. “I see you found your mobile?”

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck. “Erm…yeah. Right where I thought it would be. On the floor.”

_Of course it was. Right after you took it out of your pocket and put it there. You think I didn’t see you, my darling son. Your teacher at LAMDA would be appalled at that performance.  
_

“Shall we go down then?” asked Benedict, offering his arm to Wanda. “Before Dad comes up after us?”

“I haven’t got my meds,” replied Wanda. “You go down and mingle.”

“Give me the key. I’ll get them and save you the walk. Are they in your purple and gold toiletries bag?”

_Jesus. The hallway isn’t that long to walk! I love that he tries to be so considerate, but some days it makes me crackers – and this is one of them! No, Ben! They’re right here in my handbag, but you don’t need to know that._

Wanda patted his cheek. “I do appreciate the offer, Love; but I’ve got to use the loo. Unfortunately, you can’t do that for me.”

Benedict laughed. “You’re right on that one.”

“Oh, before I forget, are you off all day tomorrow? I was thinking we could sleep in and have a nice brunch.”

“Nope. I’ve got an early call to do my last scenes. If we don’t cock it up, I can come home right afterwards.”

“What time do you have to leave, Dear? Perhaps we can still squeeze in breakfast together?”

Benedict shook his head. “I’m afraid not, Mum. The van’s leaving at six.”

“Oh, such a pity. I was hoping we could spend some more time with you,” said Wanda with mock sadness.

“Sorry to disappoint you, Mum. There’ll be other brunches. With any luck, I’ll be back in London tomorrow night. I’ll see you downstairs then.”

 

 

Wanda quickly made her way to the room and let herself inside. All seemed quiet in Benedict’s room. The hallway was silent. Wanda went directly to the desk and opened the drawer. She pulled out a sheet of stationery along with an envelope and pen.

_Nice to see the Blackberry Bramble still has writing supplies unlike some places.  
_

Wanda sat down and began to compose a brief note:

 

**Dear Donna,  
**

**Timothy and I need to sort things out with you as soon as possible. There has been a frightful misunderstanding that we must rectify.  
**

**Since Benedict has to be on set tomorrow early, I would like to suggest you come down to the lobby and meet us for breakfast as soon as the restaurant opens at seven. This way we can have a civilized chat while he's away filming.  
**

**Until tomorrow, Wanda  
**

 

Satisfied with the wording, Wanda folded the note and placed it in the envelope. She wrote “Donna” on the outside, licked the seal and left the room. She went straight to Benedict’s room, pausing by the door to listen for any sounds from within. All she could hear was the sound of typing on a computer keyboard. Wanda silently slipped the envelope under the door and returned downstairs.

 

 

***************************************************************************************************************************************************************

 

As soon as Donna closed and locked the door, she went to the laptop and sat down. She typed in Wanda Ventham, Timothy Carlton in the search bar. Quite a few results came up.

 _I’ve got it all wrong. Only one thing makes sense_ , _but I need to see it with my own eyes._

Donna began to quickly skim the various articles. Some were about Wanda, others about Tim. Most of it dealt with their careers. Then there was the photo and article about Wanda’s divorce from businessman, James Tabernacle that Carly had found.

 _Let’s try images. Maybe I’ll have better luck_ , thought Donna as she clicked on ‘images’. _I don’t have time to waste._

It didn’t take long for Donna to come across a photo that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. There was a newspaper photo of Wanda and Timothy. They looked to be in their late thirties. A very glamorous-looking, made up Wanda was obviously sitting in a hospital bed; and Timothy was kissing her temple lovingly. Wanda was holding an adorable newborn baby in her arms. The caption under the photo read:

 

**“EEE! It’s Wanda’s Little Wonder!”**

Donna clicked on ‘view page’ and read the article dated July 21, 1976:

 **“Little Big Ben takes a bow. EEE, but they’d be reet proud down on Emmerdale Farm. Bouncing Ben’s happy mum, you see, is actress Wanda Ventham, 38, who starred in the TV series**.

**Her actor husband Tim Carlton helped to bring Ben – a sturdy nine pounder – into the world at Queen Charlotte’s Hospital, London. And he was clearly impressed with Wanda’s little wonder.”*  
**

_Son of a Bitch! This was taken when Benedict was two days old. Wanda and Timothy are married to each other, and Benedict is their legitimate child._ **  
**

There was another article regarding the birth of baby Benedict with an accompanying photo spread that was done in the hospital room.

_That has to be my Benedict – he’s got Wanda’s eyes. He was so cute – look at those little fists and chubby cheeks. I remember he said he was nine pounds when he was born. Wanda and Timothy look so happy and in love.  
_

Donna went back to the photos and found another one with an accompanying article from ITV Playhouse, dated 7/28/79. This photo was of Wanda and Timothy, standing up and facing each other. They were gazing at each other adoringly with a red rose between them. Donna clicked on the article. This one was titled:

 

**“Timothy, Wanda….and the rose that changed her mind about marriage”****

**“Wanda Ventham, who stars in the play _You’re Not Watching Me, Mummy_ , invariably plays glamourous parts, but she describes her real-life role as that of a domesticated wife and mother. Her three-year old son, Benedict, certainly takes some watching. ** **He’s an energetic handful who treats her living room like a sports stadium.”  
**

Donna began to read the article:

**Every Monday morning for the past seven years a perfect single rose has arrived for Wanda Ventham. They’re from her second husband, actor Timothy Carlton—and even when he is away filming or on tour, the rose arrives.**

**“Tim is a great romantic, which is really why—in the end—I decided I would remarry,” Wanda told me.**

_Oh my! Now I know where Benedict gets his penchant for romance from. How very thoughtful of Timothy to express his love in such a creative manner!_

**They were married in April 1976, but had been together virtually since they first met in Ireland in 1972 while filming sequences for _A Family At War_. At the time her first marriage, the businessman James Tabernacle, was well on the way to a conclusion.**

_April. Benedict was born in July. He wasn’t joking when he said he was at his parents’ wedding._

**“Tim didn’t break up a marriage,” she said, “but I suppose he was what was needed to help me make the final decision. All divorces are unpleasant, but I was lucky because I had someone in my life to cushion me.**

**“Even so, it didn’t make it easy, and I ended up feeling really sad and with an awful sense of failure.”**

**But that’s all well in the past now. **She and Tim have a three-year-old son, Benedict, an energetic handful who was treating the living room like a sports stadium when I saw Wanda at her Kensington flat.****

**“Our brains go to jelly the whole time,” she said, watching him. “He has been rather vile today, though—you’ve hit on a bad day. He has just had his adenoids and tonsils out and his temperament has gone slightly loopy in the last day or so. But even at times like this Tim is fantastic with him.”**

**While Carlton was being fantastic, keeping the boisterous Benedict relatively quiet in another room** **, I asked Wanda about her daughter by her first marriage.**

**“It’s smashing to have a 20-year-old daughter because our interests are so similar,” she said. “She’s an art student now, something I always wanted to be when I was a child and before I decided to become an actress.**

**“Tracy was 13 when Tim and I got together, but I had no misgivings about living with him. Thirteen is a vulnerable age, but she was mature enough to realise there wasn’t a happy relationship between her father and me.**

**“She has never taken sides, although she leans towards me. I think it’s because she has always lived with me and that is where her security and her continuity have come from.**

**“When I first got married my parents, and my husband’s, would have been horrified if we had decided to just live together. But now—it’s an awful thing to say, perhaps—I would encourage my daughter to live with someone at first rather than jump into marriage straight away.”**

**Tracy took time off from school to be at Wanda and Tim’s wedding. Her own objection seemed to be her mother’s choice of a wedding outfit—jeans, held up by braces. **And she was really delighted when her step-brother arrived on the scene.****

_Good gravy! She wore jeans and suspenders – how tacky is that? They must have been maternity jeans by that time._

**I asked Wanda (who gives what she calls “a rather flashy cameo performance” in John Osborne’s play _You’re Not Watching Me, Mummy_ on Monday and will star in a second series of Fallen Hero later this year) what she felt was meant by the word “raunchy”. A well-known gossip columnist she has never met recently described her as “a very raunchy lady”.**

**“I don’t know,” Wanda said. “It sounds rather game, and I’ve always led such a domestic life. Raunchy doesn’t sound at all domesticated…”**

**And Wanda Ventham, who seems to be rather more disturbing than domesticated, started to make Benedict’s tea. When you have a Benedict in the house, you can’t just sit around all day looking like Wanda Ventham.**

Donna Saint James sat back, staring at the computer screen, hand clapped over her mouth. She suddenly felt both relieved yet exhausted at the same time.

_Oh, Donna. What did you do? Tim and Wanda were never having an affair – they were married to each other. I’ve been snooping on a married couple, who happen to be my boyfriend’s parents…and possible future in-laws. If Benedict ever finds out about what happened, there’s no way he’s going to want to continue being with me. I need to talk to Carly in the worst way._

Donna got her cellphone and called her sister. Unfortunately, all she got was a message that Carly’s voicemail box was full.

_What the heck? She almost never has a full mailbox! What’s up with that? She needs to listen to her damn messages and clear them out already! I bet she and Steve are still out to dinner._

Donna returned to the laptop and signed into her email. There was a message from Carly containing photos taken that day of her and Steve at Westminster Abbey and in front of Big Ben. She hit reply and typed off a quick message to her sister:

 

**Curly Carly!  
**

**You need to clear out your voicemails. I needed to leave a message and your mailbox is full.  
**

**Love the photos! Looks like you guys had a great day doing some sightseeing. I wish I could say the same.  
**

**Speaking of Big Ben, we had it all wrong. It’s a long story, but the bottom line is I just told off my boyfriend’s parents! What in the hell is wrong with me? We need to talk soon…I’m going to be sick.  
**

**D  
**

 

Donna hit send and was about to explore Benedict’s photograph folder when she got a notification that she had a new email. It was from her mother:

 

**Hi Muffin,  
**

**This is the first I’m hearing about a boyfriend! Who is Big Ben? Is he your boyfriend or is that a euphemism for something I don’t need to know about? Is this a serious boyfriend? What did you say to his parents?  
**

**Dad and I are here for you anytime you need to talk. Sometimes things aren’t as bad as you think. We’ll be up for a few more hours before we go to bed and would love to Skype with you tonight.  
**

**Love you!**

**Mom xoxo  
**

 

Panic began to well up inside Donna as she went into her sent folder. She opened the message and looked at the header.

_Motherfucker! I hit reply to all instead of reply! Carly sent the message to the whole family! Now, they not only know I’ve got a boyfriend, but that I’ve opened my big mouth and told his parents off. I will never, ever hear the end of this. What are Kenny and Scarlett going to think – not to mention Nona and Popi? Carly had to email the whole damn family!_

Donna re-read her mother’s email:  

 

**“Sometimes things aren’t as bad as you think.”**

_That’s what you think, Mom. I really put my foot in my mouth this time. I guess I’m going to have to tell them about Benedict and me. I’ll do it tomorrow night when I get back to London.  
_

Donna hit reply to her mother’s email:

 

**Hi Mom,  
**

**I didn’t mean to send that email to everyone. Yes, I have a boyfriend; and I’ll do a Skype call with you and Daddy tomorrow night to fill you in.** **Love and miss you both!**

**Donna xoxo**

After hitting send, Donna got up and stretched. She noticed a white envelope on the floor by the door.

_Hmmm…that wasn’t there before. Maybe they do express check out here? But Benedict wasn’t completely sure he would be leaving tomorrow._

Donna picked up the envelope and saw right away that her name was written on it. As she was about to open it, her text chime went off. It was Benedict:

 

**_Mum’s done with dinner. She’s having a coffee and pudding now. Then I’ll be up…figure another half hour. I can’t wait to open you…I mean my gift. ;-)   Bx_ **

Donna smirked as she typed her response.

**_That was a Freudian slip if I ever read one. I’ll be waiting. Dx  
_ **

_Okay, Donna – it’s show time!  
_

Donna removed the robe and began to re-fasten the corset, taking a deep breath and holding it to make it easier.

_Let me enjoy this last breath before I’m stuck in this damn thing. I hope Benedict’s the type who will rip it off. I don’t think I can stand wearing it for any length of time._

She tied the bow at the top of the corset and cast a longing look at Benedict’s laptop.

_First, finish getting ready, Donna. Then go back to his photos.  
_

After straightening up the bedding and brushing her teeth, Donna lit the cinnamon-scented candle she had stuffed in her suitcase. Then she spied the envelope that she had abandoned on the desk and ripped it open.

_It’s certainly not a bill for express check out  - the production company would handle that. Looks like a hand-written note. Let me see what this is all about. I doubt anything else can possibly go wrong tonight._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. *This is the text of an actual article that appeared in one of the London papers regarding Benedict’s birth.  
> 2\. **This is the text from an actual article written when Benedict was three. Written by Steward Knowles on 28 July 1979. "Timothy, Wanda... and the rose that changed her mind about marriage". It was in the TV Times: 14–15.  
> 3\. I am taking a guess that Adam's father is named Toby from an article I read on Joss Ackland.  
> 4\. My apologies if any of the continuity is off, this was a tough one to write.


	66. Chapter 66

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanda takes time to mull things over and comes to some conclusions. Donna has more quality time with Benedict’s laptop. The night of surprises ends with Part One of Benedict getting his rain check.

 

Wanda Ventham made her way to the stairwell and stopped just short of the first step. The scene in the hallway between her, Donna and Timothy was still nagging at her.

_Something is wrong here. I know what Timothy told me, and what I’ve witnessed with my own eyes. However, there’s this little itch in my brain that tells me this isn’t a casual one-night stand between my son and Donna Saint James. She was quite adamant that Tim and I were having an affair behind Benedict’s back. Now that I think about it, Donna was actually very defensive on behalf of Benedict. She gave me the impression that she had known him for a lot longer than just a couple of weeks or so._

Wanda turned and took a seat on the armchair in a small alcove away from the stairwell, meant for quiet reading. She needed to do some serious thinking, and Wanda wanted to do it alone and without interruptions.

_Donna Saint James made it very clear to me when we were on the phone that she wasn’t interested in Benedict because she had met someone prior to the execution of my plan. She sounded as if she were already in a relationship with this man and definitely seemed to fancy him beyond simple dating.  
_

Wanda allowed the words from that phone call to wash over her:

 

_**“The real reason I didn’t go through with the plan is because I’ve met someone.  Someone very special.  A man who I was attracted to the first time we met.  We’ve been dating, and I’ve developed very deep feelings for him.  I don’t want to see anyone else.”** _   
  
**_“When did this happen?”_ **

  
**_“Not long after I answered your ad.”_ **   
  
**_“Then why did you go through with the plan today, Donna?”_ **

  
_**“Because I felt I had made a commitment to you and felt the right thing was to keep it. Part of me was also curious as to what Ben was like.  And then I met him, and he really was a nice guy, but I just couldn’t go through with it.  I’m so sorry, Wanda.”** _

_Hmmm…Donna seems to have met this man even before she had her first date with Jimmy Rhodes. I do realize that she must have been involved in open dating somewhat, and there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s perfectly fine to keep one’s options open. However, somehow I just don’t buy that she’s with Jimmy even though it certainly appeared that way at Cabin Pressure. I spent over two hours talking with her at the Orangery, and I came away with such a good feeling about her. Donna is a lovely girl – perfect for Benedict._

**_"I really enjoyed our tea, Wanda.  Thank you for a lovely afternoon. I hope to hear from you soon.  I'd love to meet your son.  He sounds very interesting."_ **   
  
_**"We did have a nice chat! I think you and my son would get along splendidly.  I'm going to need time to check his schedule and figure out how to make it look like an accidental meeting."** _

_This is when she met the mystery man - while I was trying to coordinate an accidental meeting. She got disgusted waiting for me to set something up and decided to try dating him. **  
  
**_Wanda recalled that Donna had suddenly looked perturbed and had frowned.  
  
 __ **"'Accidental meeting'?  What do you mean?"**

_She sensed I wasn’t being totally up front with her at the time._   
  
_**"My son has no idea I'm doing this."** _   
  
****_"I don't know if I want to get involved in this. Is there something wrong with him that you're not telling me? If there is, I need to know now. I don't want to deal with any more nuts. I also don't want to get mixed up in a lie."  
_   
_"All right then.  I'm going to be totally honest with you, Donna.  I really like you and think you would hit it off with my son.  I guarantee you that there's nothing wrong with him.  He is exactly as I have described him to you.  I'll email you his photo when I get home.  He just has a frightfully busy schedule and no time to meet anyone worth having a relationship with."_

_But something went awry with that photo Tim emailed her because Donna’s convinced that Adam is Benedict.  
_

_Oh!  
_

_Tim emailed it to her.  
_

_That day I was going through Adam’s wedding photos looking for nice ones of Ben in his best man attire to send her. I remember I was busy cropping and resaving the photos as if I were Tertius. I had set up the email and asked Tim to just attach the photo to send to Donna.  
_

_Tim, who isn’t anywhere near as experienced on the computer as I am, attached the bloody photo and sent it to Donna.  
_

_That explains it.  
_

_Why didn’t I see it before? It’s clear as could be what happened.  
_

_Tim must have attached a cropped photo of Adam instead of Benedict._

  
**“My son's the one who gave me the idea to place an ad in the first place.  One day we were discussing his situation, and he told me to go place an ad in Craigslist."**   
  
_Oh, Wanda, how you bent the truth that day but then you came out and told Donna the truth and what motivated you because you liked her so much and knew deep down in your heart that she was the one Benedict would fancy and end up wanting to marry._   
  
_" **At first, I had no intention of actually placing an ad, but then I thought about how he yearns to be in a loving relationship.  So, I did it. He doesn't know I went through with it. What harm is there in not telling him that I gave fate a little push on his behalf?  You both have so much in common!  If you and he get along and wind up together, what's wrong with that?  You're happy.  He's happy. My husband and I get grandchildren. Your parents get grandchildren.  Everybody's happy.  I see it as helping to bring two very nice people together."**_

_And yet she was still skeptical!_ **  
**  
**_"Then why not tell him what you just told me?"_**   
  
**_"Because my son can be very old-fashioned about some things.  He wouldn't see it as helping him."_ **

_And that was the absolute truth! Benedict would disown me if he were to ever find out I had been busy interviewing potential wives for him. I shudder to think of the row that would ensue._ ****  
  
_"In other words he'd see it as your butting into something that doesn't concern you.  You're afraid he'll be angry if he finds out."_   


_Donna knew. She certainly had me pegged. The bird isn’t stupid by any means, which is good because you have to be a sharp cookie to keep up with Benedict as Tracy is forever pointing out. **  
  
"Wanda, I should walk away and forget we even had this meeting. This is one of the wackiest schemes I've ever heard.  However, I've spent over two hours in your company, and I find that I like you very much.  I think you'd make a great mother-in-law. I'm impressed with your devotion to your son.  He sounds like someone I would get along with.  I think I do understand why you did what you did.  Your way of going about finding him a mate may be unorthodox; but I'm completely sure you're acting out of love for**_ **_him.  My instincts are seldom wrong."_**

Wanda sighed heavily and studied the wallpaper for a minute allowing her thoughts to swirl about in her head.  
  
 _Donna really did understand my motivation that day. She also has a kind and well-meaning heart - in spite of her terminal clumsiness. Most importantly, she has strong morals and values family as much as Benedict does. I can’t believe this girl would cheat on whoever it is she’s dating with my Benedict – whether it be Jimmy Rhodes or someone else - no matter how handsome and charming my son is. I also don’t think Benedict would deliberately cheat on a mate of his – no matter how much he fancied Donna. He wouldn’t just invite her up here for a quick tryst. I’m beginning to think Tim is wrong. I think there is a good chance that Donna Saint James might be the Barbecoa bird. Well, whatever it is, we’ll find out for sure tomorrow morning!_

Wanda got up and descended the stairs with a new-found spring in her step.

 

 

 

Donna Saint James opened the notepaper and read the hand-written message that was in a flowery, neat cursive script:

 

**Dear Donna,  
**

**Timothy and I need to sort things out with you as soon as possible. There has been a frightful misunderstanding that we must rectify.  
**

**Since Benedict has to be on set tomorrow early, I would like to suggest you come down to the lobby and meet us for breakfast as soon as he leaves. This way we can have a civilized chat.  
**

**Until tomorrow, Wanda  
**

_Holy shit! Benedict’s parents want to straighten this mess out over breakfast tomorrow. How in the world am I going to be able to face them after that showdown in the hall? I am so embarrassed for going off half-cocked on them without knowing the whole truth. What am I going to do? How can I ever make it up to them?  
_

Donna began to pace around the room when her cellphone rang. She was relieved to see the caller ID indicating it was her sister.

_It’s Carly! Thank God!  
_

“Hello and thank you so much for calling me back so quickly!” exclaimed Donna in a rush.   “I really fucked up big time.”

**“ _Please don’t tell me you hurt Benedict. Didn’t I warn you about being gentle…”_  
**

“No! Nothing like that!” _  
_

**_“Oh, that’s a relief, because I would have thought you two would be enjoying some post-coital bliss rather than calling me at this hour…”_ **

“We haven’t gotten to pre-coital bliss yet!”

**_“Oh.”  
_ **

**_“Where’s Benedict? Is he cowering in the bathroom because you came on too strong?”_ ** _  
_

“Shut up, Carla! He’s downstairs keeping his mother company while she eats dinner. She and a friend drove all the way here through the pouring rain just to spend time with him on his birthday. Then he’s going to come back up so we can have some couple time.”

**_“Oh, that’s sweet. Is that why you called? To tell me about Benedict’s mother?”_   
**

“No! You and your damn email! I can’t believe I did that….” _  
_

**_“Tsk, tsk. All I did is send an email in order to share some pictures with the family. You’re the one who’s guilty of the famous ‘hit reply to all’ fatal mistake. Talk about not being able to keep your own secrets – good job, Donna! I can’t believe you hit ‘reply to all’ – especially when Mom and Dad are part of the ‘all’. They are concerned that you’re not answering their emails or Skype calls.”_ ** _  
_

“I didn’t bring my laptop. I’m using Benedict’s…”

**_“He gave you his password?”  
_ **

“Of course he did. Why wouldn’t he? I gave him mine to use whenever he’s at my place that way we don’t have to lug them around all the time.”

**_“Such trust to give out his password to you! Does he have any idea that he gave his password to Miss Sherlock Holmes, the Super Snoop?”_ ** _  
_

“Very funny. I’m not snooping in his emails.”

**_“Ha! You forget that I know you better than anyone, my twin. I’m taking it that Benedict didn’t give you ALL his passwords – am I right?”_   
**

“Yeah. He just gave me the one needed to log onto his computer with. Apparently, Ben likes to password protects it when he’s travelling and has to leave it alone in the room. I already tried and can’t get into his emails. He uses a different password.”

**_“So, are you going to use Benedict’s Skype account to call Mom and Dad back?”_ **

“No way in hell! You didn’t tell them I was here with Benedict, did you?” _  
_

**_“Donna, please give me more credit than that! There was no way I was going to tell them you were off on a romantic rendezvous with your boyfriend, and leave myself open to a cross examination by Mom.”  
_ **

“Thank you, Carly! I knew I could count on your discretion.” _  
_

**_“They tried Skyping me about your boyfriend three times, besides the barrage of emails. I finally had Steve answer them and tell them you were away on business and that I turned in early.”_ **

“Oh, thank you so much! That was good thinking.”

**_“No, it’s called self-preservation. It’s Steve you should thank - they grilled the poor dear like a well-done steak.”_ **

“No!”

**_“Yes! Lucky for both of us that Steve would not be broken. He’s toughened up nicely after three years of marriage and knows just what not to say.”_ **

“Hmm..I think it’s because he fears _your_ wrath more than theirs.” **  
**

**Carly chuckled.** **_“True. And that is how it should be!”_**

“Please thank Steve for me! I owe him one.” _  
_

**_“I thank my lucky stars that his parents mind their own business. I could never deal with two sets like that!”_ **

“Everyone should have the Ciprianos for in-laws. They are the Gold Standard when it comes to in-laws.”

**_“True, but that’s also because they have five other children to worry about besides Steve,”_ ** **laughed Carly _. “They’re spread a little thin, which is fine by me!”_** _  
_

“Benedict will be an easy nut for Mom and Dad to crack. He’s the type who will crumble at the first meeting – which is why I’m terrified of them coming face-to-face.”

**Carly clucked her tongue _. “It’s too late for that, Donna. The minute you hit ‘reply to all’ you let the cat - or the man in this case – out of the bag. Time to fess up, my dear sister.”_** _  
_

Donna sighed. “I plan to. I’ll tell them tomorrow afternoon as soon as I get home. Benedict may be done with filming, so I’ll hang around here and go back to London with him. He’s got his car.” _  
_

**_“Do you have the anchor handy for braking?”_ **

Donna laughed. “He’s had the car fixed since then. I made it clear I wasn’t riding in it until it was. That was even more dangerous than his motorcycle.”

**_“Consider yourself lucky he didn’t bring that instead of the car. So, tell me your troubles, Donna.”  
_ **

Donna sat down at the desk and started to email Carly the articles she had sent herself.

“Go look at your email. I just sent you the proof. We had it all wrong about Wanda and Tim. You were on the right track after all when you found that article on the internet about Wanda’s divorce…” _  
_

**_“Readers Digest version, please. It’s getting late,”_ ** **yawned Carly _. “I’ve got to get up early in case you forgot. Steve wants to take a day trip out to Windsor Castle. He’s hell bent on seeing the sights this weekend.”_**

“Timothy Carlton and Wanda Ventham are married to each other. There is no Ben Ventham as far as I can tell. They have a son named Benedict, who turns out is _my_ Benedict.”

There was silence on Carly’s end of the phone.

“Carly, did you get them yet?” _  
_

**_“Not yet…wait. Here we are….let me take a look.”_ **

Donna waited and drummed her fingers impatiently on the desk as she waited for her sister to look at the emails and photos.

“Well?”

  
Donna heard Steve’s voice in the background, announcing that he was going to bed. Carly responded that she wouldn’t be far behind.

“And?” demanded Donna impatiently.

**_“Give me another minute, Miss Impatience! I’m still reading this article.”  
_ **

Donna helped herself to another one of Benedict’s truffles in the meantime. This one was rum-flavored caramel, laced with toasted walnuts and bits of candied ginger. She smacked her lips in satisfaction.

_Mmmm…I should have gotten myself a box of these for myself._ **_  
_**

**_“Holy shit, Donna! Tim and Wanda really are married to each other!”_ **

“Yep.” **  
**

**_“Benedict was a very cute baby. How odd that he had blond hair as a toddler. You two will make gorgeous babies together. Now, I have one question: Who in the hell was Wanda sitting with in Paternoster Square that morning?”_ **

“His name is Joss Ackland – he’s an actor. The young man was not Ben Ventham – he’s Benedict’s best friend and Joss’ grandson, Adam Ackland!”

**_“Hold it – you’re starting to lose me! Then who is the guy Wanda sent you the photo of?”_ ** _  
_

“Adam Ackland – Benedict’s best friend. He’s also the one I literally ran into at the market, remember?”

**_“Why would she send you someone else’s photo? That doesn’t make sense!”_ ** _  
_

“I don’t know, but I intend to find out. Benedict has a whole folder dedicated to photos. I need to go through it before he comes back.”

**_“Okay. I’m going to go now….I’ll talk…..”_ **

“There’s more I haven’t told you yet, Carly.”

Donna could hear her sister sigh deeply.

**_“There always is with you. Let’s have it.”_ ** _  
_

“I basically met Wanda and Tim in the hallway. Benedict was downstairs at the time having dessert with the cast. I got so angry that I told them exactly what I thought – which at the time was that they were having an affair…”

**_“Please don’t tell me…”_ **

“I really tried to control myself, but you can only imagine what happened once I lost my temper…” _  
_

**_“Yes. Vividly. Well, at least you didn’t call poor Wanda a slut or anything like that.”_ ** _  
_

Donna sat and bit her lip. She felt truly ashamed of her behavior.

_Silence is golden, Donna. Don’t tell her._

**_“Donna? Did you?”  
_ **

**_“Please tell me you didn’t start with the grade school name calling!”_ ** _  
_

“I called her a two-bit tramp.”

**_“Donna! What in the hell were you thinking? That was so disrespectful of you! She’s Benedict’s mother for God’s sake!”_ **

“I didn’t know she was Benedict’s mother at the time! I wasn’t thinking clearly. I was so angry that they were going behind Benedict’s back that I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. Then they turned on me! Wanda actually called me a tart! And for some strange reason they are absolutely convinced that I’m dating James Rhodes and cheating on him with Benedict!” _  
_

**_“Hold it Donna! I’m having trouble following you – slow down!”_ **

  
Donna was on a roll. She continued excitedly:

“Then I caught Benedict talking to them in the hallway. You were right again about their eyes. He and Wanda really do have the same blue eyes. Then I suddenly noticed how strongly Ben resembled Tim while they were standing next to each other. It wasn’t apparent to me before, so I got to thinking that something wasn’t Kosher and….”

**_“Donna! Calm down, please! I get the picture. This sounds like one big misunderstanding on all sides,”_ ** **observed Carly.**

“Right again! There seems to be misunderstandings on both sides. The bottom line is they want to meet me for breakfast to ‘sort it out’ - as they put it - as soon as Benedict leaves for the set tomorrow morning. I don’t know how I’m going to face them.”

**_“Just go down there and be humble and apologetic – paying for breakfast wouldn’t be a bad idea either. Now, go get ready for your honey and be gentle with his foreskin.”_ ** _  
_

“You’re right. That’s what I’ll do. I’ll call you tomorrow and let you know what happened. Sleep well!”

Donna put down her phone and opened Benedict’s folder labeled ‘pics’.

_Wow! Look at all these! I could be here all night. Let me look for ones that are pertinent. I can always see the others another time._

There were lots of photos, all in subfolders. The one labeled ‘Donna’ had various photos Benedict had accumulated of them together or of her alone. There were also copies of her restaurant reviews, which pleased her to no end.

_He’s so sweet to have a folder dedicated to me! I never realized he enjoyed my reviews that much. I’d better move on, I know what I look like!_

The folder marked ‘family’ caught her attention next.

_Jesus Christ! Here they are! Wanda, Timothy and Benedict – the happy little Cumberbatch family. These look like vacation photos…the background looks like it could be Greece or Italy. Oh, Christsmas photos – I love the train set around the base of the tree. It’s so old-fashioned. I wonder where those were taken? I recognize his half-sister and her family from that night in Kensington when I saw them from the bus window. His sister looks very much like Wanda, but the nieces don’t. They favor their father. The older people must be Ben’s grandparents or possibly aunts and uncles. Time to move on._

The folder labeled ‘Harrow’ held photos of a teenaged Benedict, tall, skinny and gangly-looking with short auburn hair. Donna smiled at the photos of the young James Rhodes posing with Benedict in front of what appeared to be a dormitory.

_What beautiful grounds and old buildings! It’s so Harry-Potterish! Look at those uniforms and the boater hats! How geeky they looked! Hahaha! I actually think I like James without his beard and long hair. I can really see those deep dimples of his.  
_

There were also photos of Benedict dressed as women in various plays.

_Oh, Good Lord! He didn’t look good in drag then either!  
_

Donna kept looking at the titles of the folders. _  
_

_Hmmm..this folder is labeled ‘Manchester’ – oh that’s where he went to college.  
_

This folder contained various photos of Benedict around the campus and with various friends. She recognized a couple of his friends that he still kept in touch with. There were also quite a number of photos of Benedict in various campus productions along with a cute, snub-nosed blonde girl with long hair. They were obviously a couple from most of the candid shots.

_Ah. This must be Olivia Poulet. She’s certainly cute enough. They actually made a nice-looking couple.  
_

Donna closed the folder and opened the one labeled ‘Memories’. This folder held a wide variety of photos – Adam Ackland was in many of them, as was James and other friends of Benedict. Donna came across photos of Benedict christening his godson, Jonathan. Next were photos from Adam’s wedding, when Benedict had been his Best Man.

_Oh! These are from Adam’s wedding. What a pretty gown Alice had! She looks like a fairy princess._

Donna paused as she caught sight of a photo of Benedict and Adam standing side-by-side, dressed in formal wedding attire. The photo looked very familiar to her.

_Wait. This is the photo Wanda sent me of Adam! Ben’s been cropped out of it! Oh my God! I bet Wanda was busy cropping photos and sent me the wrong one! There never was a Ben Ventham.  
_

Donna sat tapping the fingers of her left hand on the desk as she scrolled down through the photos and stopped at one of Benedict with Olivia on a red carpet. It was obviously for a movie premiere. He had his arm around her shoulders and was kissing the top of her head.

_Olivia doesn’t look too happy in this one. This was taken a few years ago.  
_

Donna quickly went through the other photos. There were many of Benedict and Olivia, looking very much like a couple. Others were of her alone, posing for him or taken as candids.

_Olivia’s really cute, but she has taste in clothes like him. Holy cow! I notice she doesn’t look as happy in the later photos of them. This was when things started to go sour for them.  
_

Then Donna stopped to look at another photo of Benedict on a red carpet with a tall, very slender girl with long dark hair. The girl was stunning, yet she wasn’t smiling either. Donna noticed that Benedict had his arm around her waist. The body language wasn’t the same as with Olivia. Donna could detect a stiffness about her.

_Wow! Look at her! I bet that’s Anna – the furniture designer. She looks just like a model. She also doesn’t look very happy on that red carpet. Maybe that was when they weren’t getting along.  
_

Donna’s text chime went off. It was Benedict.

**_I’m on my way up stairs. B  
_ **

**_Okay! I’m waiting! D  
_ **

Donna quickly shut down Benedict’s laptop and put the champagne flutes in the ice bucket to chill a bit. She just left the desk lamp on and lit the cinnamon-scented candle, using a pack of matches she had packed.

_I’ll just use the bathroom and make sure I’m still fresh. Maybe I’ll brush my teeth one more time.  
_

Benedict Cumberbatch entered his room to find only the desk lamp on, bathing the room in a soft, golden glow. A fat candle was lit and filled the room with the sweet, yet aromatic scent of cinnamon. There were two champagne flutes in the ice bucket and the cake box was on the dresser along with two plates, forks, a knife, and serviettes. The bed had been turned down and the four pillows plumped up against the brass headboard. It was quite an inviting scene.

_Donna wasn’t joking about being prepared for anything_ , thought Benedict with a smile. _She’s thought of everything to make this day extra special for me, and it makes me love her all the more._

“Donna, I’m back,” he called as approached the bathroom door. He could hear water running in the sink. “Sorry I’m so late, but Mum was taking her time tonight. All she had was a bloody pork chop, but in the time she took to eat the damn thing, she could have eaten the whole fucking pig twice over!”

“That’s okay. I’ll be out in a minute,” came Donna’s cheerful response. “Why don’t you change into something more comfortable in the meantime?”

Benedict found his sleep pants and t-shirt folded neatly at the foot of the bed. His dressing gown had been hung up in the closet. Donna had placed his slippers on the floor at the foot of the bed.

_Donna really was the epitome of business while I was downstairs. I come back to the room and POOF! Everything is magically folded and tucked away. It's like having my own personal tidy-up fairy! As much as I appreciate the sentiment, I wish she wouldn’t do that. I can keep my things sorted…most of the time anyway._

Benedict quickly undressed and tossed his used clothes in the suitcase he used for laundry. He toed off his shoes and put them under the desk. As he put on his sleepwear, Benedict found his thoughts drifting to what surprise awaited him.

_I wonder what she’s got planned for me. The possibilities are endless and all as erotic as hell. I’m starting to get stiff just thinking about it.  
_

He climbed into the bed and stretched out on his back, yawning deeply. _  
_

_I suppose I’ll catch up on my reading while I’m waiting for her to finish whatever it is she’s doing in the loo.  
_

Benedict picked up his book and began to read when he heard the door to the bathroom open. He glanced up and dropped the book as he caught sight of Donna standing in the doorway, wearing the black lace corset and matching bikini knickers. She smiled at him and slowly turned so he could admire her lingerie.

“Happy Birthday, Handsome. Does this look better without the robe?”

“Wow, wow, wow! Aren’t you the sexy one? Come over here and give me a proper birthday snog.”

“It would be my pleasure…and yours,” smiled Donna slyly as she lay down beside him on the bed and looked deep into his eyes, which looked blue-green in the lighting. “So…here we are.” She ran the tip of her tongue over her upper lip.

“Mmmm…just the two of us…alone at last,” murmured Benedict, moving closer to her. “I made sure to put the ‘do not disturb’ sign on the door.”

They exchanged several soft, sweet kisses; which gradually turned more passionate as they began to explore each other’s body with gentle touches and caresses.

Benedict ran his long, slender fingers along the swell of Donna’s breasts.

“You look so very lovely tonight…you have the softest skin…have I ever mentioned that?”

Donna nodded and traced his cupids bow lips with her index finger. “Yes, you have on several occasions; and I appreciate your compliments very, very much. However, being this is your birthday, tonight will be all about you - so, what’s your pleasure?”

Benedict’s hand captured her finger, he placed it in between his lips and sucked it. Donna felt a tingling in her pelvic area. He was staring at her, and she noted that his eyes appeared to be gradually darkening as his pupils began to dilate.

_This man is going to be the death of me. I can’t stand it anymore!_

“I warned you that I can be very greedy, and I want to claim my raincheck,” he replied in a husky voice. “I believe you mentioned something about being able to redeem it tonight. I hope I don't require a coupon.”

“No coupon required. I am at your service, Mr. Cumberbatch,” whispered Donna as she began to plant soft kisses along his neck.

Benedict was beginning to feel very aroused and moaned as her lush lips made their way to his jawline and back to his lips. He crushed his lips against hers and pulled her against him so their bodies were touching.

“You have rather nice skin yourself,” she panted, coming up for air.

“Mmm..it’s all the moisturizer I use…I hate the feel of dry skin on myself..or anyone else…I love the feel of warm..moist skin…on skin,” he said, pressing his groin area even closer to her for emphasis. “Clothing can be such a detriment to such a pleasure yes?”

_Jesus, yes! Yes, yes, yes, yes! Off with the clothing I say!_ Thought Donna.

Benedict ran his hands through her hair, enjoying the soft silkiness while deeply inhaling her scent.

_She smells divine…tangerine with a hint of basil, yet I can smell her perfume behind her ears. I could drown in that perfume and die a happy man._

Donna could feel his lips kissing her jawline with the barest hint of suction. His lips continued their journey down her neck until he arrived at her cleavage, pausing to look up at her as if askind for permission. She could see that his eyes were further darkened with desire. Donna was surprised to find her own desire was suddenly replaced with a funny feeling in the pit of her stomach.

_Why do I suddenly feel so nervous? It’s not like we haven’t touched each other before in intimate places…but we always remained fully clothed. There’s never been skin-to-skin before, except for our stomachs touching at times or hugging while wearing swim suits._

“How about some champagne before we start?” Donna asked him brightly.

“I’m not thirsty,” murmured Benedict, who was preoccupied with kissing the tops of her breasts.

His lips felt warm and soft on her skin. Then Donna felt his warm, velvety tongue, gently lapping at her skin. She could hear him moan softly as his tongue delved in between her breasts, sending shivers up and down her spine.

_Oh, that feels so good. I think I feel nervous because this is different. We are going to be totally naked in front of each other for the first time. It’s funny how we’ve seen each other in our swim suits, yet there’s just something about dropping those last bits of clothing that makes one feel so vulnerable.  I know my body is in good shape. I need to get over this sudden feeling of awkwardness and embrace this – this is the man I want to spend the rest of my life with. This is what I’ve been yearning for. Yet…_

“Can I interest you in some cake? It’s chocolate with fudge frosting and chocolate toffee crunch filling. I even brought candles!”

Benedict stopped and looked up at her with a raised eyebrow. He shook his head as he smirked at her.

“I’m _not_ hungry….for _cake_ ,” he said in a low, deep voice. “I’m hungry for _you,_ and I’m very, _very_ hungry.”

_I feel like a starving man, who’s been given free reign over a buffet. Oh, those magnificent breasts of hers…I long to see them again.  
_

“And I think I’ll start to satisfy my hunger by unwrapping my special present…”

He looked up again and this time cocked an eyebrow at her meaningfully, and Donna felt herself smile back at him. She felt as if she couldn’t move.

“I’ve always thought unwrapping the gift is the best part…I always take my time and do it very, very slowly…savouring each step along the way…” _  
_

_My goodness…that voice of his…it is pure sex.  
_

“…to showing you just how much I adore and appreciate your loveliness.”

_Okay. I’m convinced. Appreciate me. Please appreciate me._

“I’m going to start by untying the ribbon.”

Benedict slowly pulled the ends of the bow at the top of Donna’s corset, giving him better access to her breasts. He gazed at them for a minute before lavishing hot, wet kisses on the tops of them.

_Oh, those fine, full, sensuous lips of his…lower, Benedict, damn it! LOWER!  
_

Donna gently pulled his head down, so his nose was buried in her cleavage. She felt as if she were on fire. _  
_

“Oh, Benedict! I love the feel of your lips on me…what do you want my darling? Tell me, and I’ll do it.”

_What do I want? I want to rip off your clothes and fuck you as hard as I can. I’m so motherfucking horny right now. Self-control, Benedict. Be a gentleman and take it slow. Nothing too wild tonight..there will be so many other times to look forward to.  
_

_Hmmm…he’s taking a long time to answer me. Perhaps I shouldn’t have asked him what he wanted. He may actually tell me, and it might be something I don’t want to do.  
_

_I want to go down on her in the worst way and then cash in on the fucking blowjob she’s been hinting at ever-so-saucily._

“It’s _you_ I want to taste, Donna. I’ve been dreaming about how sweet you must taste.”

He began to slowly undo the hooks of her corset while kissing her lips as if his life depended upon them.

_Christ! These motherfucking things are hard to open. I can’t even open the first one. Damn…I really wanted to be so suave and impress her; but I’m going to need her help._

Donna eagerly returned his urgent kisses and deftly parted his lips with her tongue. She sucked on his tongue, causing him to groan and push against her so she could feel his growing erection. Her clitoris was aching to be touched.

_Okay, just rip the fucking panties off me, and you can eat until your heart’s content as far as I’m concerned! I volunteer to lie back and take one for the team._

Benedict broke the kiss as he stopped fumbling her corset and gazed deep into her hazel eyes. Her pupils were completely dilated, and she was breathing very heavily.

“Tell me what you want, Ben Honey.”

Donna noticed a dreamy smile form on his lips as she uttered those words.

_He likes being called that. I just wish he would have finished taking off this corset because I can barely breathe. It’s so damn tight around my rib cage._

_She called me ‘Ben Honey’. I love the way that sounds. I could just swoon.  OH, happy fucking birthday to me!  Ahhhhhhh.  
_

_I feel so hot, and he’s just getting started!_

Benedict ran his large palms up and down her sides, slowly and deliberately. Then he paused to cup her perfectly rounded bottom and kneaded it until a moan of pleasure escaped Donna’s lips.

“What do I want? I want to lick and suck up your delectable juices…I want to savour the feel of your soft, silky clit with my tongue….I want to lick every warm…velvety crevice and fold until you’re quivering with desire and need,” he purred. “Then I will give you whatever it is you need…for as many times as you wish, my love.”

Donna nibbled on his earlobe, as her hands roamed under his t-shirt, caressing his bare chest _._ She could feel him shiver involuntarily at the contact, especially when one of her fingers grazed his right nipple. _  
_

_I need you, and I need you now, Benedict. I’m ready! Eat and enjoy! I want to feel that tongue all over me!_

Donna felt his long fingers trace their way down her thighs, causing her to squirm helplessly. She took Benedict’s hand and guided it to where the corset just covered her panties. He ran his palm between her legs, cupping her vulva through the thin material. His thumb ever-so-gently ghosted over her labia, barely touching her clit, causing her to arch against his hand. Donna felt him begin to impatiently tug at her panties.

_Damn fucking things are so tight, I’m having trouble sliding them down. I don’t think they’ve moved a centimeter. Bloody hell, Donna! This outfit reminds me of what chastity belts must have been like._

_Finally! He must be very turned on because suddenly his idea of slow just got pushed aside in favor of letting lust take over. Keep tugging, Benedict!_

Benedict could feel Donna’s fingers gently probing and massaging his scalp, causing his penis to throb with anticipation. He could also feel the heat radiating from her body and hear her ragged breathing, which matched his own, in his ear.

_Get the condoms out, Benedict. Don’t cock it up because you know you have the potential to get carried away and forget to use one. Play it safe and do it before things get too heated.  
_

_I literally feel faint…I need to help him… OH! The condoms and lube! Birth control first!  
_

They both abruptly ceased their loving ministrations and gazed at each other almost shyly. They were breathing very heavily and starting to perspire. _  
_

“Erm…just one minute,” Benedict said, as he rolled over onto his side and quickly opened the drawer to his bedside table.

“Um…yeah. I have to get something.”

Donna also rolled over and opened the drawer to her bedside table and removed the condoms and lube. She could hear him impatiently tossing things onto the floor in his excitement to find whatever it was he was looking for.

They turned back to face each other, hands holding boxes of condoms.

“Great minds think alike,” Donna observed drily.

“Your brand or mine?” Benedict asked with a deep chuckle and naughty wink.

“Can I ask why you need condoms?”

Benedict looked startled and barked out a laugh. “Well, if I have to tell you _that_ , I’m afraid I have no choice but to confiscate your sex badge immediately.”

Donna giggled and playfully tweaked his nose. “That’s not what I meant, Benedict. It’s just that…well…you aren’t screwing around with anyone else…and…well...it seemed a bit odd… Oh never mind!”

_Shut up, Donna. Listen to how stupid and clueless you sound. You’re spouting off at the mouth because you’re a bit nervous. Think about it. Why would he need them? The answer is so obvious. Because he doesn’t want to make a mess. Just get back to business.  
_

Benedict gave her an amused smile. “Well, if you must know, sometimes I like to have a wank without having to be concerned with the resulting mess. I don’t always fancy a fistful of semen. If I slip on a condom, there’s nothing to clean up.”

_Yep. Just as I should have thought. He must really be wondering about me_.

_She frightens me sometimes. Perhaps she isn’t all that experienced.  
_

Donna dropped her eyes to her box of condoms. “Mine are specially ribbed – designed for her pleasure the box says.”

“I’m definitely up to giving them a test drive.” He winked at her lasciviously.

_Donna! What are you doing you selfish bitch? This isn’t about you! This is about Benedict! Pleasure him first, and then you can have your turn._

Donna put her box on top of her nightstand. She hugged Benedict and kissed him hard.

“It’s your birthday, and I promised you something _very_ special. Just lie back, relax and let me do all the work.”

Benedict crinkled his nose at her and grinned. “You’re going to give me my rain check yes?”

“I sure am. Now, on your back, sir – please.”

Benedict hastily removed his t-shirt and chucked it on the floor. Then he adjusted the pillows against the head board just the way he liked them when receiving oral sex. Then he reclined so as not to be lying flat on the bed. Benedict opened the buttons on his sleep pants to give Donna easy access to his privates and spread his long legs so she could lay in between them.

_There! I’m ready and more than willing to receive my rain check._

_Oh, Donna. He’s going to watch you. Jesus. It’s been a long time since I’ve done this. I want so much to please him, but with an audience? Good gravy!  
_

Donna smiled nervously at Benedict and positioned herself in between his legs. He was watching her intently through hooded eyes. She also noted that the bulge in his sleep pants wasn’t quite as obvious as it had been.

_He lost some steam while we were chatting about condoms. Time to show my honey some love._

“Hmm..do you mind if I take these off, Benedict?” she asked, indicating his sleep pants.

“Not at all. I love being unwrapped…then I can show off my gift to you.”

_My, isn't he the confident one when it comes to his dick!_

_That sounded rather cheeky, Benedict. Why did you say that?  Shut up and turn on your mouth filter. For all you know her last lover could have had a peen the size of a cricket bat, you dolt._

_The prospect of being nude in front of me doesn’t seem to faze him. I hope I can feel that confident when it’s my turn. I have to remember that he’s taken his clothes off in movies, so this is probably no big deal to him.  
_

“Are you _sure_? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable in any way.”

_Am I sure?  Fuck yeah!  I_ _wonder what this sudden shyness is all about?_

“Normally, I would feel a bit shy at first. That’s only natural when you’re with someone for the first time. However, you’ve already seen everything there is to see while you were hiding out in the wardrobe; so I’m fine with it.”

_Please just suck me already, Donna!  I'm dying inside here from all this sweet anticipation!_

Donna smiled serenely at him and began to slide off his sleep pants and boxer briefs at the same time. Benedict raised his hips to make it easier for her.

_It’s time to get acquainted with my man’s package._

Donna stared at Benedict’s partially erect penis. She saw he was watching her intently as if trying to gauge her reaction to it.

_Okay. He’s not fully erect, yet the head is still mostly covered by the foreskin. Maybe I should just tell him that I have no experience in that area._

_She’s looking me over as if she’s never seen an uncut man before. She looks a bit put off….or anxious? I need to reassure her that I’m just like any other man…well hopefully better than her other lovers.  
_

“Donna, this may be an indelicate question, but have you ever been with an uncircumcised man before?”

_Shit! He guessed! I guess my face gave it away or that fact that I’m hesitating to touch him._

“What makes you say that?” she asked off-handedly, which was followed by a nervous laugh.

Benedict smirked. “Oh, I don’t know…possibly that expression of pure bafflement that you’re wearing on your lovely face gave me a clue.”

“Jeez, Benedict. I don’t know what to say…I’m so embarrassed. I don’t have as much experience as you may have thought… I’ve only gone to bed with two guys; and they were both circumcised. I was hoping you could…um…show me the correct way to handle your penis.”

“Ah.”

Donna hung her head, as she was feeling ashamed. “Please don’t judge me," she whispered.

Benedict sat up and held her chin in his hand, forcing her to look at him. “I’m not, Darling. That was simply an ‘ah’ of understanding. No need to worry, Donna. I assure you that my equipment works the same as your past lovers did.”

_Gosh, I hope not!_

Benedict regarded Donna with narrowed eyes. “You look rather bemused. What did I say that was so funny?”

“It’s just that I haven’t had very positive experiences in bed.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Sweetheart. Sex is something that’s meant to be enjoyed by _both_ partners.”

_I wonder if I should tell him…I have nothing to lose. At least he’ll understand._

“My first lover, Danny, was just as inexperienced as I was. We never really clicked like I envisioned we would. We were so young with romantic notions and expectations that had nothing to do with the reality of sex. Roy, the man I dated before you, was just awful in the sack. He was totally self-centered and always in a hurry. He could have cared less if I achieved orgasm,” blurted out Donna. "No matter how hard I tried with him, I was always left wanting."

Benedict looked concerned as he stroked her cheek. “You’re making it sound like work, Love. An orgasm is not something you achieve. It’s something that happens – the culmination of extremely pleasurable stimulation. I promise that won’t happen with me. I love you and will make sure you are well taken care of and receive the pleasure you deserve.”   He leaned forward and kissed her tenderly. “So stop worrying and please take me in hand…please before I fucking explode. Literally,” he smiled encouragingly at her.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t. I’ll show you how to properly retract my foreskin and manipulate it. You’ll find an uncut penis is far more sensitive than a cut one and I find it a paramount turn on when attention is paid to my foreskin. It’s packed with nerve endings and a tremendous source of pleasure and enjoyment for me.”

Donna smiled to herself. _Only Benedict would give me such a wordy explanation. Any other man would have simply said: ‘No worries. I’ll take care of you. Let me show you what I like.’ I suppose it’s a blessing that he’s willing to be so open about himself when it comes to sex. He’s the first person, besides Carly, whom I don’t feel uncomfortable discussing sex with._

“I’m ready when you are, teacher. You’ll find I’m a quick learner.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. My family and I will be on vacation next week, so Chapter 67 will be posted on December 7th. It will contain Part 2 of Benedict's rain check.
> 
> 2\. Please forgive me if there are any errors in continuity. 
> 
> 3\. Happy Thanksgiving to all who celebrate!


	67. Chapter 67

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanda and Timothy have yet another waffling conversation. Benedict enjoys his gift, while Donna gets her unjust desserts. 
> 
> Note: I’ll be using ********* to indicate things going on at the same time.

 

Wanda and Timothy strolled down the corridor to their room after an enjoyable evening of good cognac and shop talk with their old friends. They paused in front of their room, while Timothy retrieved the key from his pocket in order to gain entrance.

Timothy felt Wanda urgently tug on his sleeve as he put the key in the lock and turned it.

“Can I help you, Madame?”

“Bloody hell! Would you turn around for a minute!”

Timothy felt another urgent tug, immediately followed by a poke in the ribs.

“Madame is being rather impatient tonight. Just give me a second, Wanda. This damn key sticks.”

“Shush! Forget the damn key and just look behind you for a minute!” she whispered with excitement.

“Ah, Madame is being unexpectedly playful in the corridor tonight. Fancy a snog in that alcove with the extra large armchair do you?”

“Benedict has the ‘do not disturb’ sign on his door.”

_Bloody hell is right. For this I had to stop wrestling with the key._

“What did you expect, Pet? A sign saying: Shag in Progress? Your son’s with a beautiful woman tonight. What do _you_ think he’s doing?” Timothy snickered. “And jolly good for him, I might add.” He unlocked the door and held it open for Wanda to enter the room.

Wanda put her handbag on the dresser and removed their nightclothes from the top drawer.

“I love how you constantly change your tune at whim. I would have thought you wouldn't be too keen on the idea. You know, Tim, there’s more of you in Benedict than you realize. I never realized it myself until recently just how much you waffle – that’s where he gets it from!”

“I don’t waffle,” insisted Timothy as he turned down the duvet. “I was simply stating the obvious. Our son could use a good shag - even though I may not be thrilled with his choice of partners. Anyway, I always thought it was fifty/fifty…half the gene pool comes from you and half from me.”

“And I’m afraid to ask which half I contributed to,” huffed Wanda, rolling her eyes.

“Why the curious, stubborn half, of course.”

“Piss off, Tim. I realize he’s a grown man with a sex life, which is perfectly normal,” she said, handing Timothy his pajamas and dressing gown.

Timothy began to undress. “I don’t know about you, but I’m knackered.”

“That makes two of us then,” agreed Wanda, heading for the bathroom with her toiletry bag. “We need to be up early to have breakfast with Donna Saint James as soon as Benedict leaves.”

Timothy stopped in the middle of unbuttoning his shirt and fixed her with a look. “I thought we were having breakfast with Benedict.”

“You thought wrong then. Ben told me he has to be up and out early for his last scenes. While you were downstairs, I came back here and wrote Donna a note inviting her to join us in the dining room as soon as Benedict leaves so we can sort this mess out once and for all.”

“I told Ben we would meet him in the dining room before he left.”

“That was before I spoke with him. We decided that there was no point in us getting up so early when the odds were overwhelmingly in favour of his only having enough time to grab a coffee at best. Ben insisted that we have a lie in and leisurely breakfast with Joss before returning to Yorkshire.”

Timothy removed his shirt and unzipped his trousers while Wanda began to rummage in her toiletries bag.

“Okay, Commander. You’ve got Benedict sorted out. Now, what about Joss? Will he be joining us to help straighten this right mess out or do you plan on sending him on the tour of the non-existent farm?”

Wanda had left the door to the loo open and peeked out at Timothy as she slathered cold cream on her face, which she used to remove her makeup.

“No worries. I’ve dealt with him, too.”

_My wife certainly has been very busy tonight whilst I was having a catch up with Julie._

“Care to enlighten me or is this classified information that I don't have security clearance for?”

“I told Joss they don’t give farm tours this time of year, so he’s begged off having breakfast in favour of a lie in. He said he’d have his breakfast at the Copper Ball and pick me up here when I’m ready to leave. That will give us plenty of time to sort things out with Donna.”

Timothy put on his pajamas. “I thought the original plan was for us to contact Donna via her mobile once WE decided how to approach this discussion.”

“Plans change, Love. An opportunity presented itself, and I seized it”

“Well, as you know, I’m still not thrilled with Donna Saint James; but I agree that we need to hear her out. It’s common courtesy.”

“As do I, Tim,” agreed Wanda as she wiped the cream off her face with a tissue.

“I’ll also be damned if I’m going to let her go around calling us adulterers when we’re not!” said Timothy as he joined her in the bathroom. “Can you hand me my toothbrush, please?”

“You know while I was up here, Tim, I did some quiet thinking about this right mess we’re all in.”

_She was thinking again…this is where it all goes wrong. There is too much damn thinking in this family…and sadly, I’m also guilty of it._

Timothy put some toothpaste on his toothbrush and looked at her through the mirror.

“And what conclusion did you come to?” He asked as he began to brush his teeth.

Wanda washed her face and dried it before answering him.

“I think Donna Saint James could be the Barbecoa bird.”

Timothy spat in the sink and shook his head. “Please, Wanda. Let’s not start this again.”

Wanda began to brush her teeth.   “I’m not starting _anything_ ,” she said around a mouthful of toothpaste. “I’m just saying that somehow none of this adds up. We genuinely liked her, Tim. And I still think she’s a nice girl, with good morals and strong family values.”

“Who’s busy banging our son while she’s supposed to be dating Jimmy Rhodes and busy flirting with Adam Ackland. Really, Wanda, just how gullible can you be? I know your dearest wish is to see him married with many children, but you really are going off half-cocked about all this.”

  
Wanda rinsed her mouth and accepted a small cup of mouthwash from Timothy. “It’s not a question of who _is_ and _isn’t_ gullible. Donna insisted that she isn’t dating Jimmy. She seems very concerned with Benedict’s feelings.”

Timothy rinsed with the mouthwash and spat in the sink. “Which is why the ‘do not disturb’ sign is on his door. She’s taking care of his feelings,” he said dryly.

Wanda dried off her toothbrush and put on some hand lotion. “Now, who’s the skeptic? Honestly, Timothy, you really have been waffling just like Benedict.”

_NO! I don’t waffle!   Why does she keep saying that?_

“Let’s get settled in bed, and I’ll explain my logic to you. I’m sure when I’m done; you’ll come over to my way of thinking…just like you did with our plan.”

“I’d much rather come for other reasons,” quipped Timothy, playfully swatting his wife’s bum. “You know, suddenly I'm not as knackered as I thought; and my peen timer shows I still have some time left to impress you.”

 

 

*************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

 

 

“Jesus…yes…that feels fucking incredible….yes…that is ….oh my …God…perfect,” panted Benedict as Donna swirled her tongue under his foreskin and around his penis. “Perfect! This…feels…amazing…so good.”

_Christ! She wasn’t kidding when she said she was a fast learner. I can’t even think straight anymore_ … _all I can feel is pure unadulterated pleasure…such fucking…intense…..wonderful sensations._

Donna noticed that Benedict’s eyes had finally fluttered shut, as he gave in to totally immersing himself in what he was experiencing.

_I love that he gets off so on watching me go down on him. Being in control like this makes me feel very sexy and powerful. I thought I was going to feel inhibited by those piercing blue eyes taking in my every move, but I don’t.   Now, I can fully concentrate on bringing him to climax.  
_

Benedict felt her tongue moving along the shaft towards the head of his penis. Her hand surrounded his shaft and began to move up and down, slowly and deliberately, while giving a little twist when she got to the head. A low moan escaped his full, sensual lips. _  
_

_I’m getting close, but I want this to last as long as possible…that little twist she does when she gets to my glans…like that….my God…sets my whole body to tingling._

“Oh fuck …YES. Don’t stop doing that…sooooo…sooo… very…very good.”

_Somebody is really enjoying himself, which is exactly what I was hoping for! I don’t know where I got the crazy notion that he would be a quiet one in bed? I also like that his foreskin retracts on its own when he’s fully erect. Nifty little feature.  
_

Donna noticed that a milky-looking drop of semen had appeared from the slit on the head of Benedict’s penis, which was getting redder by the minute.

_Pre-ejaculate. He’s getting close now. I see his balls are also quite swollen and have drawn up close to his body. Hmmm...to taste or not to taste? That is a good question,_ _Donna. Good Gravy!  I sound like the Hamlet of Fellatio.  That's what I get for hanging out with actors. Should I swallow when he does climax? I’ve never done that before…this is quite a conundrum. I think I’d better have a taste first, and then decide. To swallow blindly and immediately upchuck would be fool hardy. I remember when that happened to my friend,Sarah, the first time she gave Matt oral. I would never want to ruin it for Benedict by embarrassing myself._

Benedict lay writhing on the bed when Donna ceased rubbing him. He had been rapidly approaching orgasm when everything came to an abrupt halt. All he was feeling was an intense throbbing in his genitals, coupled with intense frustration.

_Bloody hell! Why did she stop just when I was almost at the point of no return!_

He gazed at Donna through hooded eyes and saw her studying the tip of his penis with a determined grimace.

_For fuck’s sake, Donna! Don’t stop now! I don’t want to get soft on her! Lick me! Suck me – but don’t just stop like that!_

“Donna,” he moaned. “Please…I’m so close….I need to feel your hands and mouth on me…YES…thank you….yes…yes…just like that…FUCK ME….holy…holy…oh my GOD. Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He fisted the sheets tightly as his arousal level ramped up once again from her deft touch.

_OH, Benedict’s watching me again! I see beads of sweat forming on his forehead. He is really starting to breath heavily now. He’s wanting release badly…I can sense it. Okay. Let’s have a sample and see what he tastes like.  
_

Donna licked up the pre-ejaculate and sucked the tip of his penis. This elicited a loud moan, followed by a string of curses of approval emanating from Benedict’s swollen pink lips. She also noticed that his body was continuing to tense up even further.

_Alright. He tastes a bit salty and bitter; but it’s not God-awful. I can and will do this for him. I want to give him as much pleasure as possible. Look at the reaction I just got for sucking on the tip. I can’t even imagine how ecstatic he’ll be when I swallow._

“Donna…can you…erm…touch my balls? I really enjoy that.”

_I must give the man kudos for speaking up. He’s definitely not at all shy about telling me what he wants and how he wants it. I like how he kept repositioning my hand the first time I began to pump him. I will never forget how to position my fingers on him.  
_

Donna gently took his balls in her hands and massaged them until she could hear his deep moans of approval.

“Like this, Ben Honey?”

“Mmmm…per…fect…I really like… when you call me Honey…it makes me feel so loved. AHHHHH!”

Donna smiled. “That’s because I _do_ love you. _Very much_. I want to do whatever will make you feel good, Ben.”

“I wouldn’t be adverse to a little nail action,” he panted, eyes squeezed tightly shut.

Donna gently grazed her nails over the thin skin of his scrotum and lightly scratched as his moaning increased. Then on an impulse, she carefully took his right testicle into her mouth and sucked softly on it.

“BLOODY MOTHERFUCKING HELL!!” he shouted, hips involuntarily bucking as his eyes snapped open momentarily.

 Donna let the testicle fall out of her mouth and looked up at him in total panic. Benedict’s eyes had shut again and his breathing very ragged, chest heaving.

_Oh my God! What did I do? Roy used to actually like that_.

“I’m _so_ sorry, Ben!!! I’ll stop! I thought you’d like that.”

Benedict’s eyes snapped open, pupils completely dilated so the color of his irises was complete hidden. His face was a mask of pure lust.

“I DO! I DO LIKE THAT! I fucking _love_ the way that feels…please…as you were, Darling.” He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “ _PLEASE_ ,” He added impatiently.

Donna felt drained as if she would faint. She sighed with relief. _Thank God I didn’t hurt him after all. Okay, back to showing his family jewels some appreciation.  
_

Donna continued to suck his testicles in turn while lavishing soft kisses on them in between. Benedict was starting to squirm and buck his hips.

“Are you close, Honey?”

“Yes, very, _very_ close,” Benedict gasped, as he felt the familiar tensing of the muscles in his lower back and groin as he approached climax. This time his voice was barely above a whisper. “I need to come soon. I can’t take much more...too much of a good thing,” he chuckled hoarsely.

_Okay. I can help with that. Now, as they used to say at Disney – time to shut down the ride experience…unless he’s the type who will expect ‘Extra Magic Hours’._

Donna gave his testicles one last kiss and took his penis into her mouth, sucking hard on the head while moving her hand rapidly up and down the shaft, paying particular attention to his frenulum the way he had shown her. She felt him move his hips as if trying to gain more friction in her mouth.

“Is it okay if …I thrust a bit?” he asked hesitantly. “I need more friction.”

Donna patted his hip with her free hand. “Just take it easy.” She removed her other hand and took as much of him into her mouth as she could manage.

_I am impressing myself._ _I remember my friends and I thinking that a huge dick was so important. Right now, I’m a very happy woman that my honey is average size. I don’t think I could handle a guy who was bigger than this. I’m also thankful as hell that he smells so nice and clean rather than that cheesy smell some women complain about._

Benedict watched her closely as he gave a tentative thrust. Donna felt him hit the back of her throat, setting off her gag reflex.

“Oooo..Bennnnn!” She said around him.

_Holy cow! That was intense. I’d hate to feel what full throttle is like._

_She seems to like it so far. Let’s keep going._

Donna felt him thrust again, hitting the back of her throat and causing her to gag.

_He needs to calm down a little – I’m going to throw up!_

“Arrgghhh!!”

_Oh, I think that sounded more like a gag. Look at her face, Benedict, she’s not liking this as much as you thought. Back off._

Benedict immediately backed off and his thrusts became less forceful. She could also sense growing frustration in him. He panted and groaned with each thrust.

“Need friction….need to come…feels so good...too good. Ahhh…”

Donna tapped his hips to stop and took the tip of his penis into her mouth. He quickly grasped her hand and wrapped it around the base of his penis. She vigorously pumped him up and down, while applying subtle pressure as she also worked his foreskin. She watched him throw his head back against the pillows, eyes shut tightly with lips parted, while his hands fisted the sheets and his toes began to curl.

_Here it comes…I can do this. One last suck with feeling ought to send him over the edge._

Donna sucked hard on the tip of his penis as she gently squeezed his balls.

“OH YES..Yes, yes, YES…this feels …so mother….fucking good…yes…YES..OH CHRIST..yes…my God, my God, MY FUCKING GOD!” Benedict shouted as his orgasm swept him away from all sense of reality.

Donna felt a couple of erratic hip thrusts as a series of short spurts of warm, semen filled her mouth. Her gag reflex was immediately triggered by the salty and bitter fluid.

_Oh! Ugh!!! This has got to be the most vile-tasting stuff I’ve ever had in my mouth,_ thought Donna, as she desperately fought the impulse to gag and spit out the ejaculate. _I’ve read that it’s only supposed to be a teaspoon or so, but I feel like he just shot a good cup of it into my mouth.  The last thing I want it to hurt his feelings. I need to just suck it up and swallow it._

Donna grimaced and bravely swallowed the semen. She looked up at Benedict. He remained on his back with his eyes shut and a look of pure bliss on his handsome face. He was still breathing hard and already his penis had begun to soften in her mouth. She felt the bile rising in her stomach as she gently took him out.

"Please be careful not to touch the head.  I'm ultra sensitive right now - and not in a good way," he said in a low voice. 

_Oh my God! That was truly revolting. It’s a damn good thing I don’t have to review semen as part of my job because his is just awful. I need to put something in my mouth to mask the taste…one of those mints. I must get one of those chocolate mints from the night stand._

_That was one fantastic blow job,_ thought Benedict happily. _I can still feel the tingling sensations in my groin area. I feel like my legs are made of jelly..I can’t move…I’m so over the moon right now. I just want to drift off to sleep now with her nestled in my arms._

Benedict felt Donna clamber over his legs and crawl towards the edge of the bed. He was jolted out of his orgasmic haze when he heard her gag. He opened his eyes and was greeted with the sight of her madly rummaging around in the bedside table while holding her hand over her mouth.

“What are you looking for, Sweetheart?”

Donna dry-heaved. “I need to put something in my mouth… _now_!”

“You just had something in your mouth,” he teased, still feeling euphoric. “Aren’t you the insatiable one.”

_Believe me, Benedict, I’m satiated enough for a life time. Really. Swear to God._

Donna yanked out the tin of mints and jammed three into her mouth. She quickly began to chew, hoping it would mask the flavor that still lingered in her mouth.

“Mmmm…could I have one of those, please?” Benedict asked nonchalantly as he lay back, closed his eyes and hummed contentedly to himself. “That was….”

“Here!” mumbled Donna as she extracted a mint and stuffed it into his mouth.

Benedict finished the mint and moved towards her. He gathered her in his arms and held her tightly.

“I love you, Donna; and I love that you did that for me,” he murmured and kissed her deeply.

He felt her go limp in his arms like a rag doll.

_Benedict, you suave devil, your kisses truly leave her breathless._

He felt her urgently tapping his back as she broke the kiss and pulled back from him.

“Ben…I …can’t… breathe.”

“Hmmm…it’s nice to know I have that effect on you,” he chuckled deeply and nuzzled her neck. “That’s never happened to me before.”

Donna gasped. “Help me get this thing off – I don’t care if you rip it!”

_Christ! I’ve always fantasized about ripping clothing off of my lover._ _Fabulous felatio **and** clothes ripping! Happy Motherfucking Birthday to me!_

Benedict’s eyes widened in anticipation.

“Your wish is my command, Darling,” Benedict said with a sly smile. “I find your impatience very arousing indeed,” he added, voice low and seductive.

“It’s not you! I’m having trouble breathing in this damn corset. It’s too tight!”

_OH! I don’t have that affect. It really is too tight. I’ve got to get that fucking thing off her!_

Benedict yanked at the closures, ripping the corset open. He stared at her bare breasts, while a wave of nausea swept over Donna.

_This is not working!_ Thought Donna. Now, I can taste semen coupled with chocolate mint.  This is _not_ a good combo. I need to brush my teeth and get some mouthwash. I need to get to the bathroom now - before I throw up all over the both of us.

“If you’ll excuse me, I have a date with the toilet,” muttered Donna as she got off the bed and ran to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

Benedict could hear what sounded like puking through the door. It suddenly dawned on him what had happened. He smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand.

_OH fuck! She swallowed and couldn’t tolerate the taste of my cum. I could taste myself on her lips...I’m rather acidic. Shit!_

“Donna? Are you alright?” Benedict called from the bed.

There was only the sound of continued heaving from the bathroom.

Benedict sat on the edge of the bed, nervously rubbing his thigh as he decided what to do next.

_Benedict, you prick. You had a pretty fair idea that she intended to swallow. You know damn well some women are turned off by it. Liv hated it. She said the coffee and cigarettes made you taste like shit._

He looked anxiously towards the bathroom.

_You should have told Donna it didn’t matter to you if she swallowed or not._

_Oh…but it did._

_Stop deluding yourself, Benedict. You adored the fact that she cared so much about giving you pleasure that she did that._

_Not to mention it really got me off._

_It’s all about stroking the male ego…and stroked mine was._

_I want to reciprocate and make her feel as wonderful as she made me feel._

The sound of puking had ceased. Benedict got off the bed and padded across the floor to stand in front of the bathroom door. He heard the toilet flush and waited a minute before trying the door. To his surprise he found that Donna hadn’t locked it. He knocked and gingerly pushed it open. Donna was sitting back on her heels in front of the toilet, looking miserable. She quickly pulled the corset around her in an attempt to cover her bare breasts.

“Are you okay?” he asked timidly as he rubbed the back of his neck.

_Oh my, this beautiful man is standing here naked in front of me, and it doesn’t faze him one bit. He really does have such a nice body._

Donna nodded. “Now I am. It’s my fault for not being prepared. I was hoping to end things on a more positive note rather than the sound of my retching into the toilet.” She gave him an embarrassed half-smile.

Benedict offered her his hand to help her up. “No. It was my fault for not telling you before we got started that I wouldn’t have been offended if you didn’t swallow.”

“We’ll come up with a better plan for next time. Now, why don’t you relax and have some champagne while I brush my teeth and freshen up.”

Benedict gave her one of his cute little lopsided smiles. “I would very much enjoy returning the favour – provided you’re still interested.”

Donna smiled and nodded. “Hell, yeah! I’ll be right out.”

 

 

 

Benedict took the bottle of champagne out of the refrigerator and the glasses out of the ice bucket. He began to remove the foil from the cork.

_I wouldn’t mind getting a bit buzzed after I take care of Donna. We can have a glass and some cake before moving onto actual shagging. By then I should be ready to have another go. This bottle looks like it holds four glasses of champagne…two each. That should do it on top of what I’ve already had tonight._

“OH NO! I can’t fucking believe this! Why, oh why, tonight of all nights?” Came Donna’s anguished cry from the bathroom.

Benedict paused and looked towards the bathroom, eyebrows raised. He could hear Donna slam down the toilet’s lid and flush.

“Son of a bitch! This wasn’t supposed to happen!” She groaned loudly in frustration.

_Christ! I wonder if she flooded the toilet like she did at my flat three weeks ago? I did tell her to be careful until I had the plumbing checked over, but…_

“Benedict, I need your help,” Donna opened the door to the bathroom a crack.

“Do I need to call down for a toilet plunger?”

“No! Can you please go to the dresser and get out my black chemise and a pair of panties from the top drawer?”

“Of course,” he replied as he retrieved the requested items.

_She’s going to change for the next round! This is fucking fantastic!_

Donna opened the door wider, and Benedict could see that she was wrapped in a bath towel. He hesitated before handing the silky garments to her.

“I _really_ don’t think you’re going to need your knickers,” he said with a smirk. “Unless they’re edible,” he added hopefully.

Donna snatched the clothing out of his hand. “Oh yes, I do need them; and no, they aren’t edible.”

_Edible panties? Who in God’s name actually buys those things? I always thought they were gag gifts given at bridal showers._

_I bet she wants me to undress her first. Maybe she wants to be romanced and do some slow dancing. I’ll put on some music._

“Benedict, I also need my handbag please.”

“Okay. One valise coming right up,” he joked as he picked it up off the chair. “Christ! I think I just got a hernia from lifting this damn thing.”

Donna glared at him from the doorway of the bathroom as he handed over her handbag. “Very funny, Benedict,” she said testily.

_Oh, crumpets. Do I detect a note of stropiness in her voice? It’s like someone flipped a switch._

“I’ll be out in a little while. Have some cake.”

Benedict frowned at her. “You just went from ‘I’ll be right out’ to ‘a little while’.”

Donna rolled her eyes. “I’ll be out when I’m done. I just ask that you please be patient with me.”

He held out his hands defensively. “That’s fine. I’m quite patient.”

_Oh, no you’re not, Benedict! You’re every bit as impatient as I am._

“I suppose that’s alright. It will give my body time to recover for the cum-back round.” He crinkled his nose and smiled at her.

Donna just stared at him.

“ _Cum_ -back – get it?” He chuckled at his own joke. “Cum with a ‘u’ as in…”

“ _I_ get it, but _you_ don’t,” snapped Donna. “There isn’t going to be a round two tonight!”

“For fuck’s sake, Donna! I apologize again for...”

Donna sighed. “I’m not upset with you, Benedict. I’m upset with my body, which has just played a nasty trick on me. I just got my period. I wasn’t expecting it until tomorrow, but it came early. My sexy panties are a mess, and I’m a mess; so I need to shower.”

_No wonder she’s stropy. I would be, too, given those circumstances._

“I’m sorry to hear that, Love.”

“Not as sorry as I am,” she said sadly.

“Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Would you mind making me a cup of hot tea?”

“I thought we were having champagne.”

“You can drink the champagne. I’m starting to get cramps, so I need to take some Aleve before they take hold or I’ll be curled up in a ball for the rest of the night.”

“I have a better idea then. Let’s save the champagne and have it back in London. I’ll make some tea for both of us to have with the cake…if you still are up for cake. Because if you’re not, I am more than willing to eat for both of us.”

Donna held up a hand and smiled at him. “I am _always_ ready for cake. I could be dying with a stomach virus, and I can still manage to eat cake.”

 

 

 

Donna had finally emerged from the bathroom, wearing her black chemise and matching short robe to find Benedict had also donned his sleepwear. He had brewed two mugs of Earl Grey tea and cut the small cake in half. They sat on the bed and ate their snack while watching an old movie on the TV. Afterwards, they had taken turns using the bathroom and making preparations to go to sleep.

“So, which side of the bed do you fancy?” Benedict asked Donna. “I sleep in the middle at home, so it doesn’t matter to me.”

“I’ll take the side closest to the bathroom,” replied Donna, taking off her slippers and robe. She folded the robe and draped it carefully across the foot of the bed. “I drink a lot of water…”

“Don’t I know! Lots and lots of water - just like a bloody camel,” Benedict grinned at her.

“Wise ass.”

“That’s me,” he chortled, climbing into the bed and arranging his pillow to his liking. “I’m always taking the piss.”

Donna applied some hand lotion to her elbows and hands and rubbed it in. “Did you set the alarm?”

“Yep. You don’t have to get up that early. You can have a nice lie in while I’m out there working my arse off out in the cold.”

_Oh yes, I do. I have to crawl downstairs and apologize to your parents as soon as you leave._

“It’s the middle of summer, Benedict. You also told me you’re doing a courtroom scene, unless the courtroom is outdoors.”

“Now who’s being the cheeky one?”

_That nightie is so fucking sexy on her. It's going to be tough to settle down with her right beside me. I'm a gentleman. I'll keep my hands to myself._

Donna took the bandage off her ankle and lie down beside Benedict. She arranged the covers over them, as he leaned over to turn out his bedside lamp. They both lay on their backs in the darkness, not saying anything.

_Jeez, this bed is cramped. There’s barely any room to turn_ , thought Donna. _This place needs to get with the times and install king or queen-sized beds!_

_She could move over a bit. She’s on my side already, bless her,_ thought Benedict. _Good thing we both have king-sized beds in our respective flats._

“It’s awfully dark in here,” commented Donna.

“It’s supposed to be. It’s time for sleep,” yawned Benedict.

“Aren’t you going to turn the night light on in the bathroom?” asked Donna.

“No. I prefer a totally darkened room when I sleep,” replied Benedict. “Any sort of light would keep me up.”

“How are you able to make your way to the bathroom if you have to pee in the middle of the night?”

“I don’t.”

“Pee?”

“I usually sleep through the night.”

“Well, I don’t. I’d get up and turn it on myself, but I took off the bandage and my ankle hurts.”

“I’ve been in this bloody room for three weeks and didn’t see one.”

“When you plug in the hairdryer, there’s a little LED on the handle that lights up. That’s the night light.”

“What if it overheats during the night? It could start a fire,” said Benedict fretfully.

“It’s not designed to. Don’t worry. Could you please turn it on?”

_Shut up and turn on the motherfucking light, Benedict, if you want to get some sleep._

"Fine. Not a problem, _Sweetheart_." _  
_

_Oh, that was the snotty 'sweetheart'.  He wants the light off._

Benedict switched on the bedside lamp and did as she asked. He climbed back into the bed and turned onto his side to face Donna. Now, he was able to see her outline in the semi-darkness of the room. He felt her move closer to him.

_Ah, she wants to cuddle. No. Wait a minute. She’s still lying on her back. She sees this as another opportunity to further encroach upon my space. With that blasted nightlight on, she can see how close she's getting._

“This is a small bed,” remarked Donna.

“It’s a double. It’s made for two people, but you seem to have most of it.”

Donna felt guilty and quickly scooted over, giving Benedict a couple of precious inches.

“Two _small_ people,” she giggled. “I can’t help it that you’re so tall.”

“My parents have always slept in a double out in Gloucestershire.”

“What’s in Gloucestershire?”

“My parents’ second home in the Cotswolds. They bought a little crafter’s cottage when I was twelve and use it as a country retreat.”

“I’d love to see it one day.”

“Oh, you will. My parents usually spend their weekends there, unless they have a reason to stay in London.”

“I look forward to it.”

_That is if we’re all still on civil terms by then. I need to make them understand tomorrow that I’m not cheating with Jimmy on their son._

“They are really looking forward to meeting you Sunday. Mum has been planning and re-planning menus for weeks now,” laughed Benedict.

_He always brags about Wanda's cooking.  I can't wait to taste it for myself._

“Oh, I’m sure whatever she makes will be delicious. There’s no need for her to feel the need to impress me.”

Benedict laughed louder. “Oh, you don’t know Mum.”

_Oh, yes, I do. Wanda is definitely the type who'll go to hell and back to impress me._

“She’ll pull out all the stops to impress you.”

_She’ll probably put rat poison in my food if we don’t get things straightened out._ _I suppose I'd better prepare him for the Neil and Toni Show._

“Benedict, I would like to introduce you to my parents the next time you’re over at my place on Skype. They know about you.”

“Brilliant! I’d love to meet the wonderful people who gave life to the woman I love.”

_Oh, you sweet, naive dear. No, you don’t._

“I bet you’re relieved that you finally told them,” said Benedict, reaching out to stroke her cheek.

_No, I’m not. As they say on Star Trek, I’m on red alert._

“I’m glad everything is out in the open with both sets of parents,” said Benedict happily. “I hate having to keep secrets.”

“That’s because you can’t keep one if you’re life depended on it,” smirked Donna.

“Erm…you’re rubbish at keeping secrets, too, _Sweetheart_.”

_Oh, that’s the second time he's used the sarcastic version._

Donna turned onto her side to face Benedict.

“Did I satisfy you tonight?”

“Heavens yes! That was soooooo much better than the rain checks I get at Sainsburys,” Benedict smiled contentedly at her though half-lidded eyes. “You truly have demonstrated beyond any doubt I may have had that you’re a quick learner.”

“I’m glad to hear that I pleased you.”

Benedict smiled bashfully as he leaned forward to lightly kiss the tip of her nose. "Actually, I thought I was fairly vocal about how much I was enjoying your tender and loving ministrations.”

“Actually you were. I’ve always enjoyed play-by-play commentary...just not in bed,” she teased.

“Hey!”

“You know I’m just kidding.”

“Yeah. I do. I need to get some sleep or I’m going to be very grumpy tomorrow and fuck up my lines.”

“I could never picture you waking up grumpy.”

Benedict snickered. “If you don’t believe me, just ask my Mum next week. I’m sure she’d be more than happy to regale you with stories about me.”

_Hmmm..I could do that tomorrow if I wanted to. I wish he’d stop talking about them until I know where I stand with them._

"Are your cramps bad?"

"Not too bad.  They should ease up soon."

_I hope._

Donna and Benedict leaned in towards each other and shared a soft kiss.

“Goodnight, Benedict. I love you.”

“Goodnight, Donna. I love you, too.”

Donna turned over onto her side, facing away from Benedict. She closed her eyes and sighed to herself.

_Thank God I took that Aleve when I did. At least the cramps are tolerable._

“Fancy a cuddle?” Came Benedict’s deep baritone from the semi-darkness.

_Did he just ask to cuddle?  I am so blessed! I found a man who likes to cuddle in bed!_

“Yes, I would like that very much. Spoon me?”

“My pleasure,” replied Benedict, pulling her against his body. He rested his head on her pillow. “Mmmm this is nice,” he whispered into her ear. “I’m so lucky to have you in my life, and I absolutely can’t wait for you to meet Mum. I keep dreaming about next Sunday and how perfect everything is going to be. It’s such a nice dream,” he murmured as sleep began to overtake him.

Donna lie still, holding onto his arm, as sleep eluded her. All she could think about was how she was going to handle Wanda and Timothy the next day. Every scenario she could come up with had the potential for a bad outcome. Finally, Donna relinquished her thoughts and concentrated on Benedict lying behind her. His breathing was deep and even. Donna loved that his body felt so warm and comforting pressed against hers.

Donna sighed softly as his words kept coming back to her:

**“I absolutely can’t wait for you to meet Mum. I keep dreaming about next Sunday and how perfect everything is going to be. It’s such a nice dream.”**

Oh, Benedict, I hope your dream doesn’t turn into a nightmare, thought Donna Saint James as she finally drifted off to sleep.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Please forgive any lapses/contradictions in continuity.
> 
> 2\. “Extra Magic Hours” refers to when the Walt Disney World theme parks are open after the parks officially close for resort guests only. The same also applies to the morning, but I’m referring to after hours in this chapter.
> 
> 3\. I wanted to depict that sometimes sex acts are not always sunshine and rainbows. I also enjoy sharing the characters inner thoughts during - not to mention that I imagine Benedict to be a talker in bed in real life. I was actually pleased with the result, so we'll be having more sex scenes as time goes on. 
> 
> 4\. Aleve is an American brand of ibuprofen, that Donna's parents mail to her.
> 
> 5\. I wanted to show that Timothy is very ambivalent towards his feelings about Donna. 
> 
> 6\. Next week: Donna joins Timothy and Wanda for breakfast. Waffles will be served. :-)


	68. Chapter 68

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Donna and Benedict's differences cause them to have their first spat, as Wanda and Timothy reluctantly prepare to do battle. 
> 
> Note: I’ll be using ********* to indicate things going on at the same time.

 

Donna Saint James stirred at the sound of the clock radio blaring on the bedside table. Benedict had it set on a rock music station, so the Rolling Stones were loudly serenading her with “Satisfaction.”

_Good morning to you, too, Mick; thank you ever not so kindly for rubbing it in. Now, you need to shut up before you wake the other guests!_

Donna automatically rolled over to reach out and switch it off, but was greeted with darkness. _  
_

_That the heck? I can’t see a damn thing! I know I’ve got the clock/radio and phone on my side…somewhere._

Donna groped around until her hand touched what felt like a wash cloth. She gave it a tug and immediately the whole area on the nightstand lit up with the soft green glow emitting from the LED.

_Jesus Christ! He put a washcloth over the clock so the light from the LED wouldn’t bother him._

Donna stretched luxuriously. She found she felt totally rested, which surprised her.

_Now, that was actually a good night’s sleep! Thank goodness for the inventors of Aleve! I also love that Benedict let me keep the room nice and cool last night. Ahhhhh!  
_

Donna turned onto her side before burrowing back down under the sheet.

_Perhaps I’ll take Benedict’s advice and sleep in for a little while longer.  
_

**_BZZZZZZ, BZZZZZZ, BZZZZZZ, BZZZZZZ!  
_ **

**_BRRRINNNNG,  BRRRINNNNG, BRRRINNNNG!_** _  
_

The alarm feature on Benedict’s cellphone began to sound loudly from across the room, as the room phone began to ring simultaneously.

_Maybe not. Holy cow! This man needs two alarms to wake up? I wonder who’s calling him.  
_

“I’ll get the phone, Ben. Could you please turn off your cell alarm?”

Donna leaned over to pick up the receiver. “Good Morning,” she said cheerfully.

“Good Morning, Miss. Time for your wake up call,” said Henry, sounding equally cheerful. “Have a good day!”

_Hmmm…Benedict must have arranged with the front desk to be called every morning. This means the man needs two alarms and one wake up call in order to get him going in the morning. That’s pretty scary.  
_

“Thank you, Henry,” said Donna, hanging up the phone.

**_BZZZZZZ, BZZZZZ, BZZZZZZ, BZZZZZZ!  
_ **

**_BZZZZZZ, BZZZZZ, BZZZZZZ, BZZZZZZ!_ **

**_**_BZZZZZZ, BZZZZZZ, BZZZZZZ, BZZZZZZ!_ ** _ ** _  
_

_Why isn’t he turning off that damn alarm?  
_

“Benedict? Your cell’s alarm is still going off. Time to get up, Honey,” Donna said into the darkness beside her.

The room was pitch black except for the glow from the clock radio.

_Why is it so dark in here? Oh, he turned the night light off. No wonder I could barely see anything. I also can’t believe he can manage to sleep through all these alarms!_

There was no response, except for the sound of the alarm. _  
_

**_BZZZZZZ, BZZZZZ, BZZZZZZ, BZZZZZZ!  
_ **

**_BZZZZZZ, BZZZZZ, BZZZZZZ, BZZZZZZ!_ **

  ** _BZZZZZZ, BZZZZZZ, BZZZZZZ, BZZZZZZ!_**

“Benedict?” Donna reached out to shake him, but all she felt were cool sheets.

_Where in the heck is he?_

“Motherfucking, son of a bitch, cunt mobile! Is it time to get up already?” came Benedict’s hoarse voice from the opposite side of the room. “It’s too fucking early.”

“Benedict?” Donna sat up and switched on the bedside lamp.

Benedict was curled up in the arm chair, next to the window, wrapped up in the blanket and duvet.  Donna looked down to see she was only covered in a thin cotton sheet.

_No wonder I felt so cool. He took the blanket and duvet for himself.  
_

**_BZZZZZZ, BZZZZZ, BZZZZZZ, BZZZZZZ!  
_ **

**_BZZZZZZ, BZZZZZ, BZZZZZZ, BZZZZZZ!_ **

“Benedict!”

**_BZZZZZZ, BZZZZZ, BZZZZZZ, BZZZZZZ!  
_ **

**_BZZZZZZ, BZZZZZ, BZZZZZZ, BZZZZZZ!_ **

“Could you turn that fucking thing off?”

_Surely, he’s kidding me._

“Benedict!”

**_BZZZZZZ, BZZZZZ, BZZZZZZ, BZZZZZZ!  
_ **

**_BZZZZZZ, BZZZZZ, BZZZZZZ, BZZZZZZ!_ **

“Plllleeeaaasssseeee turn that fucking thing OFF!”

_He’s definitely not kidding me. He just whined at me to turn off his cellphone, which is sitting on the table right beside him merrily buzzing away.  
_

**_BZZZZZZ, BZZZZZ, BZZZZZZ, BZZZZZZ!  
_ **

**_BZZZZZZ, BZZZZZ, BZZZZZZ, BZZZZZZ!_ **

“BENEDICT!!!! _Your_ damn cellphone is on the table right next to you! You turn it off!”

“Arrrgghhh!  What the fuck?  Bloody hell!”

Benedict’s hand shot out of his blanket cocoon and groped around on the table beside the chair until he found his mobile. He switched off the alarm feature and angrily tossed it onto the foot of the bed. He blinked at the bright light and grimaced.

_Oh my, he must have gotten up to read or watch TV and fell asleep in the chair. I bet he’s going to be stiff._

“Fuckity, fuck, fuck! I need to SLEEP! Benedict groaned loudly. “Why do they have such motherfucking early calls?  It's positively indecent to have to get up at this hour!  I  fucking hate this!”

_Isn’t he a little ray of sunshine? He wasn’t kidding about being grumpy in the morning. No need to verify that with Wanda, should we return to speaking terms.  
_

Donna smiled at him. “Good Morning,” she said brightly.

Benedict grumbled what sounded like “Morning” and pulled his knees up, so he could rest his chin on them. He looked groggy with sleep and rather annoyed to Donna. _  
_

_He looks very sexy with his hair all sleep tousled and his morning stubble._

“How can you be so fucking chipper at half five in the morning!?” he rasped in disbelief.

“I always get up early. I’m a morning person,” smiled Donna.

“But you don’t have to be _anywhere_. I _do_.”

_That’s what you think. I’ve got a breakfast date with your parents, so I can apologize to your mother for calling her a two-bit tramp. However, you don’t need to know this - unless they tell you; and I really pray to God that they don't.  
_

“I love the morning!. It’s always so quiet and peaceful.”

“That’s because anyone with a soupcon of common sense is still sleeping!”

_I’m definitely going to have to chalk this up to his not being a morning person._

“I find I can accomplish so much when it’s early.”

“Jolly good for you then,” snorted Benedict sarcastically.

_Hmmm…Not only is he grumpy, but snotty as well. Maybe I should just stop talking to him and leave him alone._

Benedict stretched and shook off the blanket and duvet.  He visibly shivered and looked towards the climate control dial on the wall, as he coughed to clear his throat.

“It’s still too fucking cold in here,” he muttered peevishly. “I thought I had adjusted it just right last night.”

_Hmmm…how inconsiderate that Benedict adjusted the temperature to his liking. So, not only did he make it warmer in here; but he turned off the nightlight as well._

“Why don’t you go back to sleep then? I promise not to disturb you.”

“I’m not at all tired,” replied Donna. “I’ve had more than enough sleep.”

“Wish _I_ could say the same,” yawned Benedict, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Why were you sleeping in the chair? Did you get up to read and fall asleep?”

Benedict shook his head as he got to his feet and stretched again. “I got tired of sleeping on the bloody floor.” He made a face as his muscles protested. “Shit! My back is aching.”

“What?”

“I said my back hurts,” he snapped.

“That’s not what I asked, Benedict. I was just curious as to why you went to sleep in the chair.”

_Tell her you couldn’t sleep and started watching the telly. There’s no need to upset her. Donna can’t help it if she’s a bed hog. On second thought she can help it, and she’s the reason I feel like utter shit this morning. Just make sure to put a diplomatic spin on it, Benedict. Check the mouth filter before engaging your mouth._

“Erm…You seem to be rather fond of sprawling face down in the middle of the bed with your arms and legs splayed.”

“All you had to do is ask me to move over or give me a nudge.”

Benedict chuckled dryly. “I tried both to no avail. You are quite active while you’re sleeping, Donna. You kept rolling into me and trying to move me over. After falling off the bed three times, I gave up and decided to try the chair.”

_Oh, no! Poor Benedict!_

Donna sat up in bed. “I am so sorry, Benedict! I didn’t do it on purpose.”

“I didn’t say you _did_ ,” he said curtly. “It’s just that I _really, really_ needed my rest last night.”

_That last part almost sounded like a borderline whine to me_.

“So, I’m just going to shower, make some black coffee and hope for the best,”  he said with resignation.

“I’ll make your coffee while you shower,” volunteered Donna.

Benedict balled up the blanket and duvet and dropped them onto the foot of the bed right on top of her black silk robe. Donna watched in horror as it crumpled her expensive robe.

_Does he ever watch what he’s doing? No.  
_

Benedict checked the temperature of the room.  Donna noticed his furrowed brow as he raised his hand to make an adjustment.

“Please don’t make it any warmer in here. It’s starting to feel stuffy,” said Donna.

Benedict's had froze on the dial. “I don’t want to catch a chill when I get out of the shower,” he argued.

“There’s a heat lamp in the bathroom. If you turn it on, you’ll be nice and toasty in no time.”

_And if I'm very lucky, you'll melt!  Gosh, you really don't know a person until you sleep with them._

Benedict continued to study the dial, as if trying to make up his mind whether or not to fiddle with it.

_She seems to have trouble with the concept of compromise. I’ll show her that I know what it means to compromise – even if I freeze my arse off proving my point._

“I suppose this will do,” he relented, rolling his eyes. _  
_

_Oh, Benedict.  I saw that eye roll in the mirror. Ah, my actor boyfriend likes to play the role of the martyr._

“Though if it were up to me, I’d make it warmer,” he added petulantly, casting a sidelong glance at Donna. _  
_

_And you already did once without asking me if it was alright - just like the nightlight. This man needs to learn what the word ‘compromise’ means.  
_

“Go back to sleep, Donna. _Please_. I’m fine. _Really_.”

_Oh, no you’re not. You’re pissed at me. I must make a mental note never to make reservations at a hotel that only has full size beds. We need a queen or king.  
_

Donna watched Benedict peruse the coffee packets the maid had replenished.  He made a face and huffed.

“Bollocks! I don’t have time for this shit!” he said angrily, tossing them aside.

_Jeez!  Do I sense a bit of a tantrum in progress here?  Let me see if I can soothe the savage beast in him._

“It’s no trouble, Ben. I have plenty of time to make you coffee. It’s the least I can do,” said Donna in a reasonable tone.

“The coffee here is rubbish,” he said sullenly. “I drank all the Kenyan coffee you sent me. I’ll just make myself a builder’s tea,” he sighed dramatically as he pulled clean pants and socks from the top drawer of the dresser.

_I wish we had a suite, so I could escape to the sitting area. I can certainly make him a cup of tea. There’s not much that can go wrong with that._

“I can make your tea. I’ll have it all ready when you come out.”

_Like hell she will. She makes God-awful tea! I shudder whenever I think of it. It’s like drinking a mug full of hot, milky water; and she never remembers the lemon in my Earl Grey. Just turn on your mouth filter, Benedict, and don’t say anything. There’s no need to start a domestic with her._

“No thanks. I love you, but you make the worst tea I’ve ever had,” he snickered.

_Whoa…the honeymoon is over before it even starts? He’s really a piece of work in the morning. I will not let him goad me into an argument, though I must admit he’s giving it his all.  
_

“What’s wrong with my tea?”

“Plenty. It’s like drinking hot, milky water with too much sugar. Otherwise, it’s delicious.”

_You ungrateful, sarcastic bastard! That’s the last time I’ll ever make him a cup of tea. He could be dying of thirst before I so much as dunk a tea bag for him._

"You dunk the bloody tea bags and toss them after less than thirty seconds."

_You just had your last dunk three weeks ago, fella._

"And you wrap the bag around the spoon to squeeze the tea out of it, which is _never_ done!"

_No spoon?  Well, next time you can stir it with your finger for all I care._

"I had no idea I had fallen in love with a tea sommelier," quipped Donna. "All this time I thought you were an actor. I am truly blessed!"

"Aren't you the cheeky one this morning?" he huffed.

_Don't answer him, Donna.  Just shut up and let him complain. I'm sure they'll have coffee and tea for him on the set._

Donna angrily watched as Benedict opened the closet door and roughly pushed her things aside. He quickly selected a pair of jeans and a short-sleeved, button down chambray shirt. Donna outwardly cringed as she got a good look at them.

_Holy cow – now my things are wrinkled! Oh, no! Look at the wrinkles in his clothes! How can he go out in public looking like that? Mom is going to have a field day when she meets him. I will never hear the end of it.  
_

Benedict raised an eyebrow at her. “Problem?”

_Don’t offer to iron them, Donna – no matter how much you want to. Fight the compulsion. You can do it!  
_

“Please let me iron those for you while you’re in the shower.”

_So much for fighting that compulsion, Donna.  Good job!_

“I don’t want you to. I want you to go back to bed and have a lie in," retorted Benedict.

"But I'm not tired.  I'm wide-awake and have nothing else to do while you take your shower.  I wouldn't have offered if I didn't want to, Ben."

"Thanks, but they’re fine the way they are,” he snapped.

“It will only take me a minute.”

_Christ, if she didn’t sound just like Mum then. That’s positively terrifying_. _They have this obsession with wrinkles_. _I can see there’s no winning with her either._

“Go ahead, Donna. Knock yourself out. I’m going to shower now.”

Donna carefully got out of bed and rested her weight on her ankle. She was relieved that it didn’t hurt as badly as the night before.

"How's the ankle?" Benedict inquired, switching on the heat lamp and fan in the bathroom.

"Substantially better. I'll just wrap it today to be on the safe side."

_Ooooo…I feel like I have to change my tampon_. ..now!

"I'm glad," Benedict said as he started to close the door behind him. "I'll be out in a few...."

“Wait! I need to use the bathroom! I have to change my tampon before I have an accident. I’ll only be a minute.”

Benedict flopped on the edge of the bed and sighed deeply while Donna scooted past him into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her.

“I hope so," he called after her. "I really need to take a poo. I hate using the loos in the trailers!”

_When we move in together, we're really going to need to find a place that has two loos and room for a king-sized bed._

 

*************************************************************

 

**Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.**  

Timothy Carlton was awakened from a restless sleep by a subtle, yet insistent tapping sound.

**Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.**

_That doesn’t sound like the alarm to me._

He squinted at the bedside clock to see that it was almost six o’clock in the morning. _  
_

_I think I’ll just have a lie in until the alarm goes off. Then I’ll wake Wanda._

**Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.**

_There it goes again. It must be a loose window sash. I might as well get up and make us some tea to have while we get ready to do battle with Donna Saint James._

**Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap**.

_Bloody hell! Wanda, bless her, can sleep through anything._

Timothy rolled onto his back and winced at the pain in his lower back from his arthritis.

“Ugh!” He groaned. “Damn back.”

“Tim? Are you up, Love?”

Timothy looked across the room to see Wanda sitting at the desk, writing on a sheet of hotel stationery. She paused to consider what she had written and tapped the pen on the desktop.

**Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap**.

“Blimey! That was _you_ doing all that bloody tap, tap, tapping?”

Wanda immediately stopped, cheeks reddening slightly. Timothy could see that she had already made herself a mug of tea.

“Did I wake you? My apologies, Tim. I couldn’t sleep, so I got up to work on my menu for Sunday’s lunch. I just need to settle on a starter.”

Timothy struggled into a sitting position and rubbed his back.

“Not really…I was on the verge of wakefulness. I was actually glad to wake up.”

“You had that bad dream about us being on trial at the Old Bailey again yes?”

Timothy nodded. “It keeps getting worse every time I have it. I can almost see the faces in the gallery – it’s maddening!”

Wanda got up and sat down on the edge of the bed. She stroked his cheek.

“It’s just a dream, Love. Nothing more.”

“Thank Heaven!” exclaimed Timothy, taking Wanda’s hand in his and patting it. “Now, what was keeping _you_ up – as if I couldn’t guess?”

“I kept going over what I want to say to Donna this morning, and nothing sounds quite right. I either come off as patronizing or a bitch, so take your choice.”

“Neither. I have a novel idea. Why don’t you let _her_ make the first move? Then we can go from there,” suggested Timothy. “Let her set the tone for the discussion.”

“Now, that’s a brilliant idea! I think I may have to promote you, Agent Carlton,” she said with a wink. “Let me see what’s going on in the hallway.”

“Isn’t it rather early to be spying on Benedict?” laughed Timothy as he slowly got out of bed. He grimaced from the pain in his back. “Shit, I miss our bed. This one’s too damn soft.”

Wanda went to the door leading to the hallway and looked out of the peep hole.

“It’s been so quiet. I would have thought by now he’d be dashing around.”

“Maybe he’s decided to have a lie in of his own.”

“Not when he’s got such an early call. Ah ha! I see light under his door.”

“Shall I take up the post while you have your bath, Commander; or do you prefer to remain put until he emerges?”

“Bugger off, Tim!”

“I’ll take that as a no then.”

Wanda held up her hand. “Shush! Wait! Henry just went to Benedict’s room, carrying a room service tray.”

Timothy joined her at the door. “Move over and let me have a look.”

Henry knocked on Benedict’s door, to have Donna open it. She was wearing the short black robe and matching slippers.  The robe was badly wrinkled.

“What’s going on?” asked Wanda impatiently while tugging on his pajama sleeve.

“Donna just opened the door and took the tray inside. That’s about all for now,” reported Timothy. He stepped aside so Wanda could see. “As you were, Commander.”

“Was she dressed?”

“Same black robe as last night as far as I could tell,” replied Timothy. "Except it was rumpled like a rag."

“Benedict must be getting ready still,” said Wanda as other doors along the hallway suddenly began to open. “Well, I hope he eats quickly, because it looks like everyone’s heading downstairs to catch the van.”

 

 ****************************************************************************************************************************************

 

Benedict Cumberbatch stood in front of the mirror and tousled his freshly-dried auburn hair. He hated that his curls were so unruly.

“This will have to do,” he said disgustedly as he re-arranged the errant curl that kept falling onto his forehead. “They can muck around with it in makeup.”

“I really like your hair,” said Donna. “It’s such a gorgeous color, and this style is very becoming on you.”

_I could imagine having kids with that color hair._

“Well, it won’t be for much longer,” he sighed. “It’ll be long, black and very curly once I start doing _Sherlock_.”

“I’m looking forward to seeing that. I bet you’re going to look smoking hot!”

“Ha! I’m going to look like my mother,” he smirked.

“Oh, you always say that! Your mother is a beautiful woman.”

_OH. NO. Donna. What did you just say? As far as he knows, you’ve never seen Wanda.  
_

_I don’t recall showing her mum’s photo._

Benedict’s head snapped up from buttoning his freshly-ironed shirt. His ice blue eyes seemed to bore into Donna.

“How do you know? I don’t think I’ve ever showed you a photo of her, have I?” _  
_

_He misses nothing. I could never, ever lie to or cheat on him. He’d catch me. You can get around this, Donna. Remember, there was that cute little woman sitting on the other side of Timothy, so you might be able to get away with playing dumb. That woman must have been Wanda’s friend._

“No, but she was at the _Cabin Pressure_ recording. I saw her sitting in the last row with your dad – well, at least I _think_ it was her. Plump, wears her hair in a blonde bob. She was sitting on the end of the row next to your father.”

_And she and your dad were arguing about something. I wonder what was up with that._

_She means Mum is fat.  Christ, I never think of her as fat.  She looks lovely just the way she is._

“Plump? Mum would not appreciate that description, Love,” Benedict snickered.

_Damn you, Donna! For all intents and purposes you just called his mother ‘fat’. Shut your mouth!  
_

Benedict retrieved his mobile and selected a photograph of Wanda and Timothy. Timothy had his arm around Wanda’s shoulder, and they were smiling. It had been taken in Benedict’s flat in front of the picture window that overlooked the Heath with London beyond.

“So there can be no mistaking her, this is Mum,” he said proudly. “I took it last month.”

_Oh, Donna. You’ve been dating him all this time and never thought to look at the photos on his phone. It must be another treasure trove. You are so clueless.  
_

“Yep. That’s who I thought she was. You look very much like Tim, but you definitely have Wanda’s eyes.”

_WANDA! You just referred to her as ‘Wanda’. Oh, no. Just look at the expression on his face. He knows something is up with you. Now, he’s suspicious._

_I never told her mum’s first name. I’ve always referred to them as Mum and Dad. Jimmy obviously used Tim when he introduced them that time; but she’s never met Mum that I know of. That email addressed to Donna Saint James…I wonder. I’ve got to get into that computer the next time I’m in Kensington._

Benedict started. “How did you know Mum’s name?” he asked, trying to appear nonchalant. “Now that I think about it, I’m certain I’ve never mentioned it to you.”

_THINK DONNA! This could be dangerous. Don’t give Barrister Ben a chance to get you on the witness stand. Rattle your brain and get him off the line of questioning he’s about to embark on. Wait! I know what to say that will make perfect sense. It’s so simple, yet it should do the trick.  
_

“James told me.”

“Ah. I see.”

_No you don’t, but that’s quite alright! Phew!  
_

_I’m not one hundred percent sure I buy that, but I’ll have to for now. It does make sense that Jimmy would talk about Mum. I’m getting paranoid over an email that doesn’t concern me…but those often prove to be the most interesting, aren’t they?  
_

Benedict zipped up his jeans and was about to pull on his socks when there was a knock on the door. He raised his eyebrows quizzically at Donna.

“Are we expecting company?”

_I hope its not Mum or Dad!  That's exactly what I don't need!_

“Just your breakfast,” replied Donna with a big smile as she hurried to the door.

Benedict suddenly felt a pang of guilt as he put his socks on. _  
_

_That was so very kind of her to do that…especially after my earlier display of temper. I would have let me go hungry until I got to the set. I suppose she still loves me in spite of my acting like a total arse._

Donna returned with a tray, which she uncovered with a flourish. There was a plate of steaming scrambled eggs, streaky bacon and two slices of granary toast, already buttered with orange marmalade on the side. Benedict noticed that everything had been prepared exactly as he liked it. There was also a teapot containing hot Earl Grey tea.

“You’ve got six and a half minutes before you have to be downstairs, so you better eat up,” she said, holding out the plate to him with a fork.

_Six and a half minutes. Only Donna would be so precise, bless her._

Benedict obediently accepted the plate and began to eat quickly. Donna poured him a cup of tea and added a thin slice of lemon to it.

_Apologize to her for being such a nasty prick, Benedict_. _She’s only trying to make you happy. We all have our faults._

“Thank you, Donna. It was very generous of you to iron my clothes and call down for my breakfast. You didn’t have to do that.”

_Oh, yes I did. There was no way I was letting you go downstairs in those wrinkled clothes. An actor should always look his best and start his day with some protein._

“Please let’s not dwell on this, Ben Honey. I love you and wanted to make your morning a little easier.”

_God, I love when she calls me that. I could just melt._

“You made it a hell of a lot easier, and I appreciate it. Thank you again,” said Benedict as he ate some toast.

“Besides, I wouldn’t dream of subjecting your delicate palate to my awful tea,” she smirked while handing him the cup in exchange for the mostly empty plate.

_Ouch! She got me there. I never should have said anything about her tea. I’ve hurt her feelings_.

“Touché!” Benedict sipped the tea and smacked his lips. “Now, this is a proper cup of tea - but still not as good as my dad’s. He brews two parts Earl Grey to one part Lapsang Souchong. It’s a delightful balance - light, yet a bit smoky. Just lovely! I’ll ask him to make some for you Sunday.”

_Jesus. Last night Tim would have spit in my tea. Let’s see if we’re all speaking to each other by Sunday. The Cumberbatches might be having Sunday lunch alone._

Donna tore off a small corner of his leftover toast slice and popped it into her mouth. “Perhaps you could teach me how to make a _proper_ cup of tea. As far as I’m concerned, you brew the best tea I’ve ever had. I really do wish mine tasted as good as yours. I can drink the whole pot.”

_And you often do, my Darling_ , thought Benedict with amusement.

“It would be my pleasure,” said Benedict. “And I apologize for coming off like such an ungracious bastard this morning. I can get quite grumpy if I don’t get my full eight hours. I suppose I’m not a morning person,” he mused.

_I was wondering when and if he was going to get to an apology._

“Really? I never would have pegged you for that,” teased Donna.

“I really _do_ try, but I find I need some time to fully wake up.”

_That was a hint, Donna. Next time you two have a sleep over, bug off and leave him be in the morning. He needs his space. I can do that._

“I usually take ten minutes to meditate and then go for a run, but I was rushed for time this morning. Speaking of which…”

Benedict drained the teacup and began to frantically look around for his things.

“Where in bloody hell did I put my messenger bag?” he asked in a panic.

“It’s on the dresser with your other stuff,” replied Donna. “I put everything in the same spot.”

_I put it on the desk, but I’m just going to shut up. Donna was very,very busy while I was in the shower. Ironing, organizing and God knows what else. This relationship is going to be a challenge. We’re going to have to have a talk about boundaries or we’re going to wind up in constant domestics.  
_

“So what are your plans for the day, Donna?”

_As soon as you leave, I’m getting dressed and going downstairs to try and make peace with your parents._

“I’m going to shower, get dressed, pack up my things and go downstairs for a leisurely breakfast. There’s a banana-stuffed French toast on the menu that sounds yummy, and I also read they make their own sausages in-house.”

_I don’t care whose house they make their fucking sausages in! What if Mum and Dad are down there having breakfast? She can’t go down there_.

“You can’t leave the room,” Benedict said firmly.

Donna looked startled. “And why not? Are you afraid someone’s going to realize you had a woman in your room all night?”

“My parents happen to be staying right across the hall in case you forgot.”

_Believe me, I have not forgotten. I even know their room number._

“I don’t want you to meet them this way, Donna. There will be sooo many questions that I’m not prepared to answer.”

_Too late, Benedict. Your parents and I have already met under the worst possible circumstances. They know I spent the night with you, and I’m sure they also figured out we weren’t planning on watching TV. I’ll just play along with him.  
_

“So, they don’t know I’m in here.”

“Correct, and I’d greatly appreciate it if you’d stay put until they check out.”

“You’re crazy! That could be all day!”

“Not at all. Mum has to be back in Yorkshire, so she won’t hang around long. Dad isn’t fond of driving at night, so he’ll leave early, too. You can order up some breakfast and watch the telly or read. Just promise me you won’t leave the room until they’ve checked out.”

“They must have an idea that I’m here.”

Benedict smiled and crinkled his nose at her. “Not a clue, I’m chuffed to say. Please indulge me, Donna. I’m rather old-fashioned when it comes to romance and girlfriends.  I just want to do things the proper way. I want to bring my girlfriend home to meet them over a nice family dinner, not in the lobby of an inn where it would be obvious that we shared the same room for fuck’s sake! Is it too much to ask?”

_They already know I spent the night in here, but you don’t. Hmmm…you say you're old-fashioned, yet you lived with Olivia forever; and they obviously knew about that. Oh, Benedict, you are a mass of contradictions!_

“I promise I will do everything in my power not to run into them.”

_I’ll meet them, but I won’t run into them. Oh, Donna, you’re crossing a fine line with bending the truth. Mom would be proud. She would say: “It’s all about how you choose your words, Donna.”_

“Thank you.”

“I’ll do some reading in the interim; but as soon as they leave, I’m calling a cab to take me to the train station.”

Benedict frowned at her. “Why the rush? There’s an excellent chance I’ll be done by early afternoon. I’m talking about a wrap. We can drive back to London together.”

Donna smiled. “That certainly sounds much better than taking the train. I’m sure I can amuse myself until you get back.”

_If one could call begging for forgiveness amusing one’s self. Yikes! I dread this.  
_

_I hope she doesn’t pack up my stuff while I’m gone. It will only take me five minutes or less._

“I’ll leave my laptop in case you feel like doing some email or internet surfing. I don’t have to check out of the room until I get back, because there’s always a chance I’ll have to stay over if things run late; so please don’t pack up anything – no matter how tempting.”

Donna couldn’t help but smile at him. “You know me well. I won’t touch anything.”

“Thank you.”

“I do have to be back in London for tomorrow morning. We have our Monday staff meeting at nine sharp or my editor gets crotchety.”

_Not to mention Carly’s supposed to give me her answer as to whether she’s on board with catering Dr. Who._

“If that happens, I’ll drive you to the train station.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll text you as soon as I know what’s going on. Have fun!” Said Benedict, kissing her lightly on the lips. “Love you, Darling.”

“Love you, too,” responded Donna, giving him a hug and patting his bottom.

_And that was probably the most fun I’ll be having today_ , thought Donna sadly as he left the room.

 

 

 

Donna huffed as she looked at the crooked line she had just drawn with her eyeliner.

_Shit! I wish my hand would stop trembling! I’m so damn nervous about meeting Wanda and Tim. The closer it gets to the time, the more nervous I’m getting.  
_

Donna had spent the past forty-five minutes preparing to meet with Benedict’s parents. She had wanted her hair and makeup to look perfect. However, her stomach was doing flip flops; and she was having trouble concentrating.

After two more tries, Donna abandoned her eyeliner.

_Eye shadow and mascara will have to do today_ , she thought. _Good thing I already pressed my clothes while I was doing Benedict’s.  
_

Her mind went over every possible scenario as she donned her clothes.

_They are either going to pounce on me the minute they see me or they’re going to be cool and calm about it. Perhaps they’ll let me squirm and do all the talking, then proceed to wipe the floor with me. As far as they’re concerned, I’m a loose woman who’s cheating on Jimmy while fucking their son. However, Wanda did keep saying we needed to calm down and have a quiet talk. I’m thinking she’s going to sit back and see what I have to say first. Funny, but I think Timothy is the one who would be more likely to give me a hard time. What do I do?  
_

Donna bandaged her ankle and carefully slipped on the sandals.

_Why can’t I decide how to approach them? It’s not like they’re total strangers to me. They are really nice people. Certainly they will understand why I acted like I did. I think I need to buck up and act like a responsible adult by taking the initiative. I bet they won’t be expecting that. I bet they’ll expect me to wait for them to speak first. I’ll show them. I’ll march into that dining room and apologize to them right off the bat. Then, hopefully, they will accept my apology, and we can iron out all our differences. And most importantly, Benedict will never find out what happened in the hallway last night.  I already alluded to his mother being fat; and if he gets wind that I also called her a two-bit tramp; that's not going to go down well at all._

Donna’s text chime went off alerting her to a message just as she finished fastening her sandals. It was from Wanda:

**Tim and I are in the restaurant. Please come down as soon as you’re sorted. Wanda.  
**

Donna felt her stomach bottom out as she read the words. She quickly texted back:

**I’m on my way. DSJ  
**

Donna Saint James took a quick look in the mirror to make sure she looked presentable. Satisfied, she hefted her hand bag over her shoulder and left the room. She felt as if she were walking the last mile to the gallows.

_Time to face the music._

 

******************************************************************************************************************************************** 

 

It was exactly seven o’clock when Wanda and Timothy Cumberbatch entered the dining room of the Blackberry Bramble Inn to find they were the first customers of the day. The hostess showed them to a round table next to the window, which overlooked the garden behind the inn. Timothy sat facing the entrance to the restaurant so he could see when Donna arrived.

“There’s nobody here,” mused Timothy. “I thought they had an award-winning Sunday brunch.”

“We’re a bit early for brunch,” pointed out Wanda.

“Such a pity. This is one time when I could have used a Bloody Mary,” lamented Timothy.

“Remember the film crew took up most of the place, and they’re off to film. I’m willing to bet some locals will start to come in later on.”

“I hope they come after the row.”

“What makes you think we’re going to have a row with her?”

“Hmmm…well, let me see…last night she’s demonstrated that she has quite the temper when provoked. Add that to your bad temper; and we’ve got the perfect recipe for a row.”

“Oh, and you didn’t make _any_ contributions to this recipe?” asked Wanda, cocking an eyebrow. “Those posh manners of yours flew straight out the window the minute she began making accusations.”

Timothy shrugged. “I won’t have that little strumpet referring to us as ‘adulterers’ or my wife as a two-bit tramp. How dare she?”

“There was a time when that label applied to me,” said Wanda with a touch of sadness. “I guess when she said it that caused us both to over-react.”

Timothy reached out and gave her hand a squeeze. “Stop beating yourself up, Love. Your marriage was on the rocks, and I just pushed you off the cliff. I’m willing to bet you would have divorced him regardless of whether or not I came along.”

Wanda’s smile was bitter-sweet. “Who will ever know for sure? I just know that the moment I met you, I knew you were the right man for me.”

“That’s all water under the bridge, yes? I’ll just say that I do understand. Donna touched a nerve in both of us last night with her poor choice of words. We have to keep reminding ourselves not to overreact because she doesn’t know our history – unless Ben told her.”

Wanda nodded. “Easier said than done, but I’ll try my best not to let her bait me this morning.”

“Likewise. However, I’m still not happy with her. Forming opinions strictly from what she overheard and thinks she saw!!”

“Tim, we can hardly fault her for making assumptions based on what she had witnessed – just as we did.”

“Maybe so, but it still doesn’t forgive her going off on us like that last night without knowing all the facts.”

“No, it doesn’t excuse her rudeness. However, I think we should be open-minded and see what she has to say.”

“ _You_ can be open-minded for both of us then. _I_ prefer to remain cool and aloof towards her,” sniffed Timothy.

“Is that what you call it then?” Wanda giggled. “I was thinking you really told her, and before you say anything….”

_Like I could ever hope to get a word in edgewise once the Wanda Express leaves the station_.

“I really do applaud the way you came to our defense.”

“Do you think they have waffles on the menu?”

Wanda fixed him with a confused look. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. Do you think she’ll be on time? I’m starting to get hungry.”

Wanda put on her reading glasses and stole a quick peek at the menu. “She’ll be early. She was when we met her at the Orangery. Why she actually made sure Benedict left their room on time.”

“How do you know it was her?”

Wanda gave Timothy a withering look. “Is Benedict _ever_ on time?”

Timothy laughed and nodded. “It was her. Jolly good for her, too; but I still don’t much like her.”

“Getting back to your empty stomach, we can always order up one of their cinnamon rolls to share while we wait. The menu says they are baked to order and smothered with a cream cheese frosting.”

“The waiting is over, Pet. She’s here!”

Wanda turned and watched as Donna made her way across the dining room to their table.  

“Oh, my. She really does look miserable, doesn’t she, Tim?”

“I’d be miserable, too, if I had to come face-to-face with us,” said Timothy Carlton with a smirk. "Let the game begin."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My portrayal of Benedict's morning grouchiness was inspired by the Dawn French radio interview with him and Wanda back in 2011. Benedict admits in the interview that he can be quite grumpy unless he has eight hours of sleep. I have no idea if he's really like that in real life, but thought it would be fun for Donna to react to that.


	69. Chapter 69

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little Christmas-themed chapter to celebrate the season! 
> 
> Donna dreams of a bizarre Christmas Future.
> 
> Note: This chapter is a bit out of order, but I wanted to post it for the holidays. There are no spoilers for future chapters. I did want to introduce one of Donna's ex-boyfriend's, who will play a supporting role later on in the story. 
> 
> There is full-on smut in this chapter.

 

Donna Saint James was sitting in bed, making notes for her Christmas in New York City trip for the Tribune. She yawned deeply as she reviewed her list:

 

**Department Store Windows: Macys, Lord & Taylor, Saks, Bloomingdales, Barneys, Bergdorfs**

_There are more, but these are my favorites. Macy’s Santaland deserves it’s very own paragraph._

**Other displays: Rockefeller Center and THE TREE, Teddy Bear & Penguin Display at Park Ave Plaza, The larger than life Christmas Ornaments along Ave of the Americas, Grand Central Terminal Light Show & Train Exhibit, Columbus Circle Stars Light show.**

_Something’s missing from that one…OH YES!_

The Parker Meridien Gingerbread House Competition Display, preceded by breakfast at Norma’s.

_The decadent Chocolate French Toast…Banana Macadamia Nut Pancakes with brown sugar butter…Praline Roasted Chestnut Pancakes....Lobster Fritata…the Volcano of Lox...yum, yum, yum! That can be my first stop. I’ll take my friends to that one.  
_

**Special Shows: The Nutcracker at Lincoln Center, Radio City Christmas Show**

_Dad told me they’re doing a revival of White Christmas on Broadway. I must go see that with him. There is nothing more fun than going to a play with a former Drama Critic. Then we can go have lunch at Del Friscos afterwards and do some last minute shopping together.  
_

**Restaurants: Bar Americain, Carmine’s, Chinatown Brasserie, Olives, Felidias, Mesa Grill, Del Friscos Steakhouse, Otto Enoteca Pizzeria, Alice’s Teacup, Oyster Bar in Grand Central, Ippuddo**

Donna hesitated as she considered adding Roy’s parents’ restaurant.

 _How can I write an article on some of the best New York City restaurants and not include Takahashi? That would mean seeing Roy’s parents and probably Roy. It’s been almost two years since I broke it off with him, so it shouldn’t be awkward. I’m sure Mom and Dad will tell them all about Benedict once they have the goods on him_.

Donna reluctantly added Takahashi to her list.

_Perhaps a paragraph on special holiday afternoon teas in NYC:_

**Afternoon Tea:  Mandarin Oriental Nutcracker Tea, Four Seasons, Lady Mendl’s, Palm Court in the Plaza, **Tea Box at Takashimiya****

_I need to replenish my perfume while I'm at Takashimiya.  I'll take Mom, Nona and Scarlett to the teas...perhaps Carly if she's able to come home. The afternoon teas in London are so much better; but these are probably the best of what New York City has to offer._

Donna stifled a yawn and sank down lower against her fluffy pillows. 

_And of course, the Christmas Markets.  Kenny and I can do those together.  
_

**Christmas Markets:** __ **Columbus Circle, Union Square, Byrant Park Christmas Village, Vanderbilt Hall in Grand Central** _  
_

_I’ll add Eataly and Chelsea Market because they are always festive no matter what time of the year._

Donna took a sip of water from the glass she always kept on her bedside table.

_My editor was very adamant that I stay in a hotel, but I’ve got my own townhouse. I want to be home. I suppose I could just use the room like a stop off point during the day and still be able to write a review. Let’s see, what were my choices?_

Donna perused the copy of the email from her editor that she had printed out.

**Mandarin Oriental**

**Gramercy Park Hotel**

**The London Hotel**

**The Algonquin**

**Four Seasons**

_The Gramercy Park would be convenient, but too close to home. Literally. Mom and Dad live across the street from the park. I wish I could talk Benedict into coming with me. How romantic it would be to see the Christmas sights together! Then I’d pick the Four Seasons and we could stay there together…such over-the-top opulence. I think I’ll pick the Mandarin. It’s right next to the Columbus Circle subway station and connected to the Columbus Circle shops. Not to mention the glorious views of Central Park. Perfect.  
_

Donna yawned and put her list on the bedside table. Her eyes felt heavy and she slowly drifted off to sleep….

 

 

 

**BRRRRRIIINNNNNGGGGGG!**

**BRRRRRIIINNNNNGGGGGG!**

Donna opened her eyes and squinted at her bedside clock. There was a bit of light in the room coming from the bathroom, so she was able to make out that it was five thirty in the morning.

 _Who in the hell is calling at this hour? Oh my God! I hope there’s nothing wrong in New York!_ She thought fearfully.

Donna tentatively lifted the receiver off the phone.

“Hello,” she said as her initial sleepiness was replaced by concern.

**_“Ah ha! Up and at ‘em, pal! Oh boy, are we glad you’re here! Big doings going on, so let’s get started! See ya’ real soon, haha!”_ came the voice of Mickey Mouse.**

_Oh my God! It’s a Mickey Mouse wake up call! In London??? Where am I?_

“Hey, Shuga! Time to rise and shine! Magic Kingdom opens at seven for Extra Magic Hours, so if we want to eat breakfast and get Fantasyland done before lunch, we’ve got to hustle.” _  
_

_That sounded like Danny’s voice. I’m supposed to be in London…where’s Benedict?  
_

“How did you like the wake up call? Neil thought it would be fun to give you one, too, being you slept right through his! He had Minnie, so we thought we’d have some fun and order a Mickey one for you.”

_Neil? Danny never called Dad by his first name. That’s odd. What’s even odder is that my dad ordered a Mickey Mouse wake up call for me. We haven’t had one since we graduated High School. Now, he and mom had a Minnie one? They must be feeling nostalgic. And since when did I ever sleep through a wake up call???_

Suddenly, there came the sound of drapes being pulled open; and Donna could see Walt Disney World’s Magic Kingdom spread out below in the distance. Space Mountain was illuminated by the park lights and the Astro Orbiter’s Planets were slowly revolving. She spotted the majestic spires of Cinderella Castle behind it.

Danny Manganero, her ex-boyfriend of several years, stood at the window, gazing out at the theme park in the early morning darkness. Donna could see his deeply dimpled smile and brilliant white teeth from the bed.

“Don’t you just love this view, Shug? I’m actually glad that Tom Cruise and his family beat me to the Cinderella Suite. I think this is much nicer than staying inside the park, don’t you? At least here, we’re free to move around as we please. In there, we wouldn’t be able to once the park closed.”

_Did he say the Cinderella Suite???? No one gets to stay there unless you’re a VIP or from a special organization like Wish Kids. You just can’t book the Cinderella Suite._

“We were going to stay in the fucking Cinderella Suite?” asked Donna incredulously.

Danny frowned at her. “Well, yeah, we were until Tom Cruise’s PA called to ask if he and his family could stay there. Remember? I told you two weeks ago that a VIP like Tom Cruise always trumps a Disney employee. It’s the one time being a big shot means nothing,” he laughed.

“I must have forgotten,” said Donna with a nervous laugh. “I don’t know where my head it lately.”

_Literally. What in the hell is going on here?_

“Crap, Donna! You must have deleted it off your mental hard drive. We had quite a debate about whether we were going to stay at the Animal Kingdom Lodge or here…”

_We did? We had a debate? My mental hard drive must have a virus because I don’t recall any of this._

“… I was pushing for the lodge so we could see the animals from the room, but I let you talk me into staying here. You said it would be more convenient because of the monorail and proximity to the Magic Kingdom,” he said with a grin.

_Well, that certainly sounds like something I would do. That is totally my logic. Besides we've stayed at the Animal Kingdom Lodge so many times since it opened._

“And you were right! It’s so cool being able to hop onto the monorail and go to the Kingdom and Epcot. How about you? Does the Contemporary Resort meet your ridiculously high expectations?” he asked with a wink. "I hope having the Gingerbread display and shop downstairs would garner me brownie points."

Donna frantically looked around the room, trying to make sense of things.

_I’m not in New York or London. I’m lying in a bed in the Contemporary Hotel in Walt Disney World in Lake Buena Vista, Florida. And I’m here with Danny, who I’m apparently in a relationship with. What happened to my relationship with Benedict?  
_

Danny crossed the room and switched on the bedside lamp. He sat on the bed and pulled Donna in for a kiss. She recalled that his kisses were always very pleasant as his warm lips touched hers. Danny smelled of the honey almond hotel soap and shampoo.

_He’s still a good kisser, bless his little heart. We used to make out for hours on end when he was renting that house over by Universal. He used to make my lips sore. Hahaha!_

“Merry Christmas, Babe!”

_Babe. That’s right. He always called me Shuga, Shug or Babe. I just wish I knew what the fuck is going on? I’ll have to play along until I figure it out._

“Merry Christmas, Danny. Did you sleep well?” Donna ventured.

“Hell no! You know what a big kid I am at heart. Man, I think I was more excited than the kids were,” he laughed merrily. “Frankly, I’m shocked that you slept so soundly – and right through a character wake up call! You and I usually lie awake on Christmas Eve, anticipating how the kids will like their presents in the morning.”

_The kids? What kids? We have kids? No! He must be talking about Kenny and Scarlett’s kids. I must have been drugged to sleep through a Disney wake up call. Am I in the freaking Twilight Zone? This must be a dream, but if it is – why am I wide awake?  
_

“I’m going to call my folks and see how close they are. I already spoke with Carly and Steve. They said it was probably a good thing we didn’t stay to watch the Electrical Water Pageant last night because it was fucking freezing on the beach.”

_The Electrical Water Pageant. They watched it from the Polynesian Resort's beach. I love that light show. Especially, when the King Neptune barge comes out near the end. We used to always watch it from the beach and then go back into the Polynesian for drinks and appetizers before bed. I wonder why we came back here? Shit! I don’t remember any of this. I was last in my bed in London, making a list for my New York City Christmas trip for the Tribune. How did I get here?_

“Your folks are already up, dressed and having their first cup of coffee. They can’t wait to get to the Kingdom – especially since it’s Tina’s first Disney World Christmas that she’ll really be aware of! You were right about her being too little last year to take notice of what was going on around her.” _  
_

_LAST YEAR? Tina? Who in the heck is Tina? Hmmm…she must be a child…or a baby from the way he’s talking. Did one of his sisters have a baby???  
_

“Mommy! Time to get up! Santa came while I was sleepin’!” an excited little voice squealed from outside the door to the room. The door burst open and a small boy, who was the spitting image of Danny, bounced into the room. The boy appeared to be no more than six as far as Donna could tell. He launched himself at a terrified Donna , as Danny caught him before he hit the headboard.

“Hey Little Man! Not so fast! How about my Christmas hug and kiss!” demanded Danny with a laugh.

_Mommy? Good gravy…he must be our son. Danny and I have kids together.  
_

Donna stared at both of them as the little boy hugged and kissed Danny. Danny looked pretty much the same as the last time she had seen him. His black curly hair was perfectly cut and styled and his hazel eyes still had that twinkle. He was dressed in dark rinse jeans and was wearing a red Christmas sweatshirt emblazoned with Mickey and Minnie Mouse dressed as Mr. and Mrs. Claus. Donna also noted that Danny was wearing a yellow gold wedding band, in addition to a Rolex watch.

_Disney must be treating him well if he can afford a Rolex. He's wearing a wedding ring.  We must be married._

The little boy suddenly flung himself at Donna and hugged her fiercely.

“I love you, Mommy! Did you like Mickey’s call? It was a surprise!”

_Gosh, he's such a cutie pie!_

“Yes, I loved it! As Mickey would say: I thought it was swell,” replied Donna with a laugh.

“Minnie Mouse called us, but you were asleep,” he continued excitedly. “Daddy asked Mickey to call you back.”

“Oh, did he?” inquired Donna, raising an eyebrow at a grinning Danny.

“When you’re a big honcho, you tend to have friends in high places,” smirked Danny.   “Mickey and I are _quite_ close you know.”

“No. I didn’t know,” giggled Donna. “I guess we need to treat Daddy with more respect around here.”

“Daddy asked Stitch to wake up Nona and Popi, too! It was so funny,” the little boy giggled, as he bounced up and down on Donna’s lap.

Donna looked at Danny with disbelief. “You arranged for my parents to get a Stitch wake up call?”

Danny nodded vigorously. “And Stitch was more than happy to do it, being he’s such an early riser.”

“You’re a brave man, Danny Manganero!”

“Popi told Stitch he didn’t want to get up, Mommy! He told Stitch to have Lilo call them back later.”

“There’s a Lilo wake up call?” Donna asked Danny excitedly.

_Jesus, Donna. Almost thirty years old and you’re still excited by the Disney Magic._

Danny shrugged. “Not that I know of. Just Mickey, Minnie, Goofy and Stitch.”

The little boy continued to bounce up and down on Donna’s lap.

“Whoa! Careful, Buddy! Mommy’s got a baby in her tummy,” admonished Danny. “Be gentle,” he lifted their son off Donna’s lap and placed him on the bed between them.

Donna immediately looked down to see that she indeed had a barely noticeable baby bump. She touched it gingerly. The little boy gazed up at her and smiled.

“Does the baby know it’s Christmas, Mommy?” he asked, leaning over to kiss Donna’s belly.

“Oh, I think so,” she replied. “Merry Christmas, Honey,” Donna said with a smile as she returned the hug and kiss.

_Jeezus…not only am I apparently married to Danny; but I’ve got a kid and a half with him. I look like I’m just starting to show…maybe four months along? I don’t feel pregnant, but I’ve never been pregnant…that I can remember. This is getting weirder by the minute!  
_

There was a quick knock on the door.

“Come on in!” called Danny.

The door opened and light spilled in from what must have been a connecting room. _  
_

“Good Morning and Merry Christmas!” chirped Antonia Saint James. “I have someone who wants to wish her Mommy a Merry Christmas!”

_Her Mommy - That’s me! Holy cow, there’s another one! A girl._

Donna watched in fascination as her mother entered the room, carrying a two-year old toddler, who seemed to be her daughter. The child had long chestnut brown hair that was tied into a high ponytail. A scrunchie dotted with mouse ears and jingle bells was wrapped around the ponytail. The little girl looked just like Donna and was also dressed in jeans and a red Disney Christmas sweatshirt.

Toni carried the little girl over to the bed and placed her on Donna’s lap.

“Here’s your Mommy, Tina!”

_Oh, so this is Tina. Phew, what a relief. I have a son and a daughter and one on the way. I just wish I knew what my son’s name is?  
_

“Gosh, Muffin, I can’t believe how that first trimester just zaps your energy!” Antonia leaned down to kiss Donna on the top of her head. “It was bad when you were pregnant with the first two, but this time trumps them both.”

_I don't remember the first two times. I thought I read somewhere that the mother is usually tired during the first trimester. Well, there apparently is something to that. I am exhausted!  
_

Donna and Danny both showered the little girl with hugs and kisses, when Neil Saint James appeared in the doorway, wearing a Santa hat that hat “Popi” written on it in green glittered script. It amused Donna to see her parents wearing sweatshirts identical to the ones Danny and the children had on.

_Its’ good to see some traditions are still followed in this family. I must have at least a dozen of these holiday sweatshirts at home in New York. No. Wait. If Danny is a Disney exec, then that means we live here, in Orlando.  
_

“Good Morning, Muffin! Merry Christmas!” Neil said to Donna. “We have to get moving soon if we want to make our reservation at the Kona Café as soon as they open.”

“I thought we were going downstairs to Chef Mickeys for the character breakfast,” countered Danny with a frown. “We’ve been practicing twirling our napkins, right Buddy?” he asked the little boy, who made a twirling motion like his father.

_I really wish one of them would mention my son’s name already!_

“We decided to postpone that until Wednesday. The kids are so excited this morning,” explained Toni. “Why waste money on a huge buffet breakfast like that when they aren’t into it? Dad and I were lucky to get a ressie at Kona for this morning.”

_That’s Mom – forever the practical one, bless her little heart. That’s the kind of thing I wouldn’t mind seeing changed._

“Kona has been booked solid for months, Mom! How in the heck did you manage that?” asked Danny skeptically.

_He called her ‘Mom’. Danny has always been super respectful._

“We used _your_ name, of course,” chortled Toni. “It’s amazing how there is always a table for the family of the VP of Walt Disney World Live Entertainment. That gal working the concierge desk is very accommodating. She even got me a last-minute ressie at Victoria and Alberts.”

_Ressie. How I hate when she says ‘ressie’ instead of reservation. Holy cow! She had the nerve to use his…our…name to get special treatment. Why does that not surprise me? Danny’s going to be livid. He hated when Mom did shit like that. Time for the Christmas argument._

“Thanks for letting me know, Mom. I’ll make sure it gets noted in Janine’s record. She’s not allowed to accept tips,” explained Danny. “She’ll be compensated when raise time comes along.”

_Okay. He’s not livid, which is surprising. I think I’m jealous that Mom and Dad are going to Victoria and Alberts. That’s the best restaurant on Disney property._

“I was wondering why she refused my money,” quipped Neil, helping himself to a small candy cane from his pocket.

_Dad’s eating candy before breakfast. Something is definitely wrong. His hair is also a lot grayer than I remember. It’s almost totally gray._

“What night are you going to Victoria and Alberts?” inquired Danny, lifting the little boy off the bed. “I want to request that Will take care of your table. He’s the best server there.”

“We made the ressie as a surprise for you and Donna,” explained Toni. “We thought you two could use a date night. We’re going to hang out here in the room with the Manganero’s. We’ll get takeout from the Contemporary Café and eat in here.”

“Thank you so much, Mom and Dad!” Danny said. “That was very thoughtful of you and Lord knows Donna and I could certainly use a night alone, right, Babe?”

  _Mom and Dad._

"Ummm...yes, we could.  Thanks, guys!"

“I see you’ve got your earrings on today,” observed Neil dryly. “Feeling brave? Mickey might have cameras scattered around the place.”

Danny laughed good-naturedly. “It’s my vacation, so I don’t have to adhere to the corporate dress code,” he said, touching the tiny gold hoop earrings that adorned each pierced ear. “I can be as wild as I please for a whole week.”

_That’s right. He probably has to stick to the dress code being he’s a VP now. It was different when he used to be a performer. He used to get away with the earrings._

“Now hurry up, Donna! Time to get a move on! We want to open the gifts before we head out,” said Toni brightly, clapping her hands together. “Danny, your parents should be here any minute. Your mom said to remind you that we’re meeting your sisters at the park in front of Peter Pan.”

_Danny’s parents are driving up from Vero Beach. His sisters and their families live in the Orlando area. I wonder where my brother and sister are?_

“What about Carly and Kenny?” ventured Donna.

Neil frowned at his daughter. “Kenny and Scarlett were out late at the Studios so the kids could see Fantasmic and the Osbourne Lights last night, so they’re sleeping in. They’ll catch up with us at the Liberty Tree Tavern for lunch. I could swear I heard Scarlett tell you at dinner last night, but Ohana was so noisy. Carly and Steve are at the Polynesian, so they will meet us at the restaurant.”

_You can swear all you want, Dad; but I don’t recall talking with my sister-in-law at all last night. I also don’t recall eating at Ohana. I surely would have remembered all those luscious skewers of meat and shrimp....not to mention the banana bread pudding._

“Oh, I thought Carly and Steve were staying here with us.”

“My goodness, Donna! You must be suffering from pregnancy brain fog! You know how Steven loves staying at the Polynesian. He would _never_ stay anywhere else,” laughed Toni.

_I’ve got some kind of brain fog…I don’t remember anything. All I know is that the man I love and want to marry is in England. Well, until I can figure out what’s going on, I’ll have to make the best of it and go along with them. I do love the Liberty Tree Tavern’s lunch! The Tavern Keeper's Pot Roast, followed by Ooey Gooey Toffee Cake!  Danny always gets the Pilgrim's Feast. I’m going to have to make sure to pace myself, so I don’t pack on the pounds.  
_

“Neil, Tina, come with Nona and Popi,” said Neil, beckoning to the children. “We can start giving out the presents while Mommy gets dressed.”

_Neil. We named our son after my dad? I would have pegged Danny for the type to have a Danny Junior. I guessed wrong again. No wonder Dad’s so happy, but then again, they always liked Danny. Gosh, Danny looks so good even though he’s ten years older than me. He aged very well. I hardly notice any wrinkles and only a bit of gray in his hair. I wonder how many years have actually passed?  
_

Donna found herself alone with Danny. He leaned over to give her another kiss, as he caressed the baby bump.

“I am truly blessed to have you and the kids in my life, Donna. Now, before you do anything else, I want to give you my present.”

Danny crossed the room and opened the safe in the closet. He took out an envelope and brought it over to Donna. She opened it and unfolded a piece of paper.

“What’s this?”

Danny beamed. “An email from the realtor, accepting our proposal on that Victorian house you’ve had your eye on in Celebration. It’s ours, Babe!”

Donna vividly remembered the beautiful two-story Victorian house, on the tree-lined street in the picturesque, Disney-inspired town of Celebration. Donna had coveted the four bedroom house for years. It had a large, wrap around porch and huge backyard with a custom brick barbeque, built-in pool and screened in lanai. There was plenty of room for a swing set and play house for the kids. She had dreamed of living in Celebration for as long as she could remember.

“Oh my God, Danny! That’s wonderful!” Donna said, throwing her arms about his neck and kissing him soundly.

_Is it though? This isn’t my life…my life is in London right now. I’m supposed to be getting ready to meet Benedict’s parents at their home in Kensington. It’s supposed to be summer…I’m losing my mind._

“I’m so glad that I could make some Disney magic for you, Shug! Now, hurry up and get dressed. There are presents to open, Tonga Toast to eat and rides to experience! I just love spending the holidays with our families!”

“Okay. I won’t be long,” said Donna, tossing back the covers. “I do love the Magic Kingdom on Christmas morning.”

_Even though I have no freaking idea as to how I got here._

Donna took a good look as Danny opened the door and exited the room. The connecting door opened into what appeared to be a living room area with a dining table and small kitchen. There was another connecting door, which stood open.  It lead to a second bedroom on the other side of the living room. A medium-sized artificial Christmas tree was set up and trimmed with Disney-themed ornaments and there were gifts underneath it, wrapped in Disney-themed paper. She could hear Danny’s parents talking excitedly, as they played with the kids.

_We’re in a two-bedroom suite on the fourteenth floor of the Contemporary Hotel with a fucking theme park view. Wow! This must have cost a fortune. Wait. Danny’s a Disney VP, so I bet he got this room at a substantial discount. My parents must be in the other bedroom. I wonder if Carly’s in-laws are staying with her at the Polynesian?  
_

Donna removed the gold wedding ring that matched the one Danny wore. According to the inscription, they had been married eight years. There was what appeared to be a one-carat diamond solitaire engagement ring on her right hand in a classic Tiffany setting.

_Nice diamond.  Danny must have dropped a bundle for it._

Donna got out of the bed and wandered around the room. She recognized her Louis Vuitton luggage along with a diaper bag and folded up double stroller. The other queen sized bed in the room had guardrails and there was a crib set up nearby. A printout of a spreadsheet was taped to the closet door.

_Well, I can’t be too out of my mind. Here’s the spreadsheet I always make up for my Disney trips. Hmmm…yep, here are my dining reservations…the days we’re going to the various parks…which days the parks have extra magic hours…it’s all exactly as I would have done it._

Donna approached the desk and saw that the newspaper had already been delivered and sat next to her Disney fanny pack that had Mickey, Minnie, Goofy, Donald and Pluto embroidered on it. The paper was open to the page that contained the restaurant reviews.

_Oh my…I’m a food critic for the Orlando Sentinel, and I just wrote a review of Todd English’s Blue Zoo at the Dolphin Hotel. My by-line is Donna Saint James-Manganero. Then she read a small paragraph underneath the review:  
_

**Note: This is Ms. Saint James-Manganero’s last column. She has accepted a position at the New York Times as Senior Restaurant Critic. All of us at the Orlando Sentinel wish her every success!  
**

_The New York Times? Oh my GOD! I’ve always dreamed of working for them!!! This is the chance of a lifetime! I’ll be working with Daddy! But what about Danny and the kids? Apparently, he just bought me my dream home in Celebration…are we going to have a long distance marriage? How are we going to make this work?  I guess I'd better get a move on so we don't miss our reservation,_ thought Donna as she pulled out her clean clothes and disappeared into the bathroom. _  
_

 

 

Donna Saint James-Manganero opened the door to her hotel room and shut it behind her, after hanging the do-not-disturb sign on the outside knob. It was almost three o’clock in the afternoon, and Donna had begged off the afternoon parade in favor of a nap in the room.

_I can’t believe how tired I am. I guess one can’t run around the Magic Kingdom like a crazy person when one is pregnant. I so wished I could have napped in the stroller like the kids. Hahaha.  I’m just going to take off these sneakers and lie down for a bit._

Donna’s thoughts were interrupted by the room phone ringing.

“Hello?”

_**“For fucks sake, Donna! Where in the hell have you been? I’ve been ringing the bloody room all afternoon!”** _

_Benedict! Oh my God, it’s Benedict! He knows I’m here! I need to book a flight back to London! He’ll help me figure out this mess!_

“Um…I was in the Magic Kingdom. Where are you? Are you in London? This connection is amazingly clear. You sound like you’re right here.”

 **_“I’m on a house phone in the Grand Canyon Concourse, trying to look inconspicuous; but I do think the bar keep in the Outer Rim recognized me. I caught the bastard trying to sneak a photo of me as soon as my back was turned.”_ ** _  
_

_He’s here! He’s downstairs on the fourth floor!  
_

**_“How long will you be alone?”_ ** _  
_

“How did you know I was alone?”

**_“Bloody hell! Isn’t it obvious? I saw you get off the damn monorail and go to the elevators. You were alone. I need to see you!”_ **

“Good gravy! Sometimes you really do think you’re Sherlock Holmes! I’m supposed to meet my family inside the park in time for Mickey’s Very Merry Xmas Party. I’ve got about two hours to myself.  We've got to talk - everything is so confused, Benedict!”

 _**“Brilliant! I don’t know about you, but I’m in dire need of a good hard fuck from the woman I love!”** _ **Benedict hung up the phone.**

Donna looked at the dead receiver in her hand. She felt nervous and excited all at once.

_Benedict is here. And he’s coming up so we can have sex. I’m married to Danny, but having an affair with Benedict? Something isn’t right. Even if I am married to Danny, I would never cheat on him…would I?_

 

 

 

Five minutes later, there was insistent knocking on the door to the suite. Donna opened it to find Benedict Cumberbatch nervously standing in the corridor, holding a cardboard tray that contained two hot cups. He was wearing tight jeans, his brown Brooklyn Bridge t-shirt and new black leather sneakers. A blue cotton cap was pulled down over his auburn curls. He took off his sunglasses and smiled widely at her.

“Did you order room service?” Benedict asked in a casual manner, as an older woman sauntered down the hall past him, seemingly preoccupied with her cellphone. He crinkled up his nose at her in that cute way she loved so much.

“I don’t know what I did and didn’t order…” began Donna, looking after the woman, who had briefly glanced back over her shoulder at Benedict, only to return to her phone.

Benedict looked in both directions and gave Donna a sly smile. “I do believe you ordered ME,” he said in a low, seductive voice. “Now let me in so you can enjoy your snack in peace – and I don’t mean crisps,” He added with an evil laugh.

Benedict pushed past her and slammed the door shut behind him with his foot. He threw the swing lock to prevent anyone from entering the room from the outside. He placed the tray on the breakfast bar and removed the cap, ruffling his hair with his hands. Donna noticed that his hair was shot with gray and the wrinkles on his still-handsome face were etched deeper than the last time she had seen him.

“Do you think that woman recognized me?” he fretted, anxiously glancing towards the door. “I really don’t want to wind up on the world-wide inter-lie sneaking into a hotel room that isn’t my own. That would be really crappy for my image. Karon would have my knob for it. I still haven’t heard the end of the time we almost got caught in my trailer when I was in Hollywood doing _Star Trek: The Vengeance of Khan._ ”

_I don’t recall a Star Trek reboot movie about Khan. I don’t remember ever being in a trailer with Benedict. I’m missing years from my memory! This is scary. I’ll just keep playing along._

“Ah, I believe I have first dibs on your knob,” chuckled Donna wryly. “Anyway, I sincerely doubt that woman even knew or cared who you were. She was too wrapped up in her cellphone,” replied Donna.

“I hope so. I really hate that I can’t walk around the parks like a normal person,” Benedict said wringing his hands. “The PA Disney provided to look after us insisted that we have to be escorted around like VIPs for fucks sake.”

“Wow! I wouldn’t mind the VIP treatment,” smirked Donna as she ticked off the perks on her fingertips. “Getting on all the rides without waiting. Special seating at all the parades, fireworks and live shows…”

 _Though Danny could probably easily arrange that as a Disney Exec_ _and probably already has._

“Just think, Benedict, being able to walk into any restaurant whenever you want without a reservation or being able to snag one!”

_Though my mother can and has done that.  I guess I already have VIP treatment._

“They take you in via the ride exit or a backstage door,” said Benedict sadly as he paced back and forth in front of her. “I miss all the queues and people watching…there are so many fascinating details that we’ve missed being snuck in through the back entrances. Being able to sit on a bench for a rest, having a drink in one of the hotel bars – why I can’t even go to a bloody cart to buy a fucking ice cream bar without someone fetching it for me! They’re afraid I’ll be mobbed by fans.”

_Why would he be mobbed by fans at Walt Disney World? He’s not even known here in the US. He’s just a well-respected stage actor in London with a few Indie films under his belt. He’s talking like he’s Michael Jackson or George Clooney!_

Benedict removed the lids from the cups of tea he had purchased downstairs.

“Decaf Earl Grey with two raw sugars for you and Earl Grey with lemon and caffeine for me! I hate that they don’t have demerara sugar here. That raw sugar is the closest I can get.”

“Thank you!” said Donna as she studied his bottom in the tight jeans.

_What a fine looking ass that man has. Some things have remained the same._

“You’re looking very handsome, Ben,” remarked Donna, taking a sip of tea. “I love that you always remember how I like it.”

“How could I forget how the woman I love fancies her tea? Christ, life was so simple before I won those fucking Oscars!"

_Oscars? What Oscars?  
_

“I hate having no privacy! I’m papped where ever I go. I can no longer go out and walk around the Heath without someone taking a sneaky photo of me. Do you realize that I haven’t ridden the bloody tube in the past three years? I have to have a driver take me everywhere. Eating dinner out is a major production – It’s a damn good thing I have memberships to those private clubs. The days of just taking in a film and having a bite to eat afterwards is over! There is no such thing as spontaneity. Everything has to be meticulously planned out before I can even think of leaving the house! The last time I took in a play at the National, Hiddleston actually had the bollocks to ask me to stay home the next time because my presence in the audience detracted from his performance! He pointed out that all eyes were on me, though I do beg to differ. Not everyone was watching me, thought it sure as shit felt like it. At this point, I’d just rather stay home and read a book and eat takeaway.”

_My honey’s still as long-winded as ever. Hahaha. Wait. Danny is supposed to be my honey. What in the hell is Benedict talking about? I’ve missed the boat here. He’s acting like he’s an A-List Celebrity._

“Of course, Olivia, _loves_ all the perks and attention,” he continued sarcastically. “Particularly, since she won the Oscar for best screenplay last year. We’ve now got five Oscars between us and four Emmys, not to mention the twelve BAFTAS and the three Oliviers. When she got the Tony Award, she commissioned Anna James to design a special cabinet for the overflow from the mantel. Anna for Christ's sake!”

_Anna was one of Ben’s former lovers, and she designs furniture. She must have loved being asked by his first lover. I guess money is money._

“Everyone keeps calling us the new Hollywood Power Couple. Do you know how much I fucking HATE Hollywood and all it stands for?”

_I honestly can’t say that I do._

“Suddenly, we’re America’s transplanted sweethearts and so very, very NOT happy,” he spat bitterly. “If I have to give another joint interview with her, I’m going to puke.”

_Olivia? Emmys? BAFTAS? Is Olivia suddenly an accomplished playwright and screenwriter??? I thought she was an actress. Did I miss something? Are they together now???_

“Here I am ranting away when we only have precious hours together! Anyway, here we are - alone at last! I’ve missed you so, Darling,” said Benedict drawing Donna into his arms and giving her a searing kiss that made her head spin.

“Oh, Benedict! I love you! I don’t love Danny!” She sobbed. “I don’t want to be here! I want to be back in London with you!”

“I know, I know, Sweetheart,” he murmured, kissing her lips. “Just keep telling me that…that’s what keeps me going…knowing that it’s _me_ you love and not _him_!”

“The bed…bring me to the bed,” said Donna weakly. “I feel faint when I’m with you.”

Benedict scooped her up in his arms. “It would be my pleasure…and yours. Which way?”

“To the right.”

Benedict nudged the door open with his knee and stared at the two queen beds.

“The wanker can’t afford to get you a King-sized bed?” smirked Benedict. “Do you have a preference?  Perhaps the one with the guardrails to keep us in place should things really get wild!”  he guffawed.

Donna looked at the beds, and felt a pang of guilt. “My son, Neil, sleeps in the one with the guardrails. Danny and I share the other one.”

Benedict made a face. “Not in a child’s bed. We’ll make do with this one then.” He gently put Donna down on the one she had been sharing with Danny. “I’ll make you forget you ever shared this bed with him.”

“I don’t know what’s happening, Benedict! Everything is so mixed up! I shouldn’t be with Danny. We belong together.”

“Tell me about it,” snapped Benedict as he hastily removed his clothes and shoes, tossing them on the bench in front of the bed. “I can’t believe how I allowed those Hollywood Mongols to fuck up my life! I chose fame and money over love. It wasn’t worth it. We need to make the most of our time together – I don’t have to be back at the room until five. If I’m later than that, I risk the wrath of Olivia, which I can’t afford. She’s writing me the most brilliant role of my film career. This time I’ll be playing a romantic leading man in an original drama. I cant wait to show you the finished script.” _  
_

_Olivia. He’s with Olivia, and it seems he’s only with her because she’s writing him award-winning parts. Jesus. That doesn’t sound like my Benedict.  
_

“Where is she?” inquired Donna, feeling jealous yet sad at the same time.

“Olivia and Penny are at the Garden View Lounge over at the Grand Floridian having afternoon tea. All morning I had to listen to her bitching about how they can’t do a proper afternoon tea in the US. As if Penny would know the difference – I mean she’s only six for fucks sake!”

Donna noticed the white gold wedding ring on Benedict’s finger, as he settled down beside her and ran his hand under her sweatshirt. The sight of his lean yet toned body never failed to arouse her. She reached out to run her hands over his shoulders and chest as if trying to memorize every inch of him. He unhooked her bra and gently cupped and squeezed her breasts, causing Donna to groan.

“Take that damn ring off,” he growled, removing his own and tossing it onto the nightstand. “I don’t need any reminders of him or her.”

_He’s married to Olivia? It must be…she’s the only Olivia he knows. Penny must be their daughter? Oh, my stars, this so fucked up!_

Benedict carefully lifted the sweatshirt over her head and threw it onto the floor. Donna felt her jeans and underwear quickly follow suit. He pulled her close against him in order to savor their nudity. She could feel his erection straining against her hip.

_Oh no. He’s going to realize that I’m pregnant. There’s no mistaking it when I’m naked._

“God, how I missed you,” murmured Benedict as he licked each of her nipples until they hardened and stood up in peaks. “I love how full and voluptuous your breasts are when you’re pregnant. I could suckle them all day,” he said, gently sucking on each breast in turn, causing Donna’s back to arch.

_He realizes. Oh, what do I care! He makes me feel so sexy, and apparently being pregnant makes me super horny!_

“Do you like that, Darling?” Benedict purred, gazing into her hazel eyes with a look of pure, unadulterated lust.

Donna felt as if she would drown in his beautiful blue-green eyes. She was completely mesmerized by them.

_This is so much better than the afternoon parade._

Benedict began to plant gentle kisses along Donna’s torso, making his way down to her belly, as she squirmed.

“You know I do,” she moaned, grabbing his hand and placing it between her legs. “Rub, please, as hard as you dare. I’m literally aching for your touch.”

“My goodness. Aren’t you the anxious one, yes?” Benedict chuckled and dipped his tongue into her navel. “It’s been so long since I’ve made love to you. I need to taste every bit of you to remind myself just how delectable you are. Fuck the gingerbread. You’re better than _any_ holiday treat they have here.”

Donna pushed fiercely against his hand as Benedict began to make maddeningly slow circles over her clit.

“I did say as _hard_ as you can, did I not?” she asked impatiently, pressing his fingertips against her swollen pink bud.

“Better?”

“Aaaaaahhhhhhh…yes!”

Benedict began to nuzzle her soft, public hair. “I love that you don’t wax everything off. Olivia does the Brazilian wax, and I hate it. There’s also no scent. You know how attuned my sense of smell is…” _  
_

_Yes, ever since you worked in the perfume store in Piccadilly. I know ALL about your sense of smell. Now shut up and rub like I asked you to!_

“ I love a woman with a nice, natural, musky scent. I find it so very, very arousing. Christ, I haven’t been this stiff in months…and it’s all your fault.” _  
_

“I really don’t want to hear about Olivia’s lack of pubic hair, thank you!” snapped Donna. “Just keep doing what you’re doing, Ben Honey.”

“I adore when you call me that. It makes me feel so loved.” _  
_

Donna grabbed his hair and began to briskly rub his scalp, eliciting a deep moan of appreciation from Benedict.

“Christ! No one has ever massaged my scalp or my prick like you do…speaking of which,” he pressed his rock hard erection against her vulva and rubbed it up and down as Donna felt her whole body tingle from the contact. “…could use some attention. And the beauty of this is we don’t have to worry about you’re getting pregnant because you already are!”

“Um…does Olivia have any idea where you are?”

“Not a clue, I’m chuffed to say. They think I’m at the Disney Imagineering Offices having a meeting about making an audio animatronic version of me for the new Sherlock Holmes ride they want to put in at the UK pavilion in Epcot…”

_There’s going to be a Sherlock ride in the UK pavilion? Like when they put the audio animatronic Johnny Depp in Pirates of the Caribbean?_

“….the meeting was actually yesterday, but they were too busy seeing the Cirque du Soleil matinee to care where I was. All Olivia knows is that I have _lots_ of meetings…my knob wants to have _lots_ of meetings with your clit this week,” he said, voice hoarse and thick with lust.

“I think it’s time I made you forget _Olivia_ ,” snarled Donna with a wicked grin.

Benedict sighed deeply as Donna’s hand moved down to steadily stroke his penis.

“Oh, Donna, my love, how I missed your touch…OH FUCK…especially that twist when you get to the head. FUCK, FUCK, FUCK. Like that…Christ, Donna, you are a wicked wench!” he gasped and bucked his hips involuntarily.

“Danny was over at Imagineering yesterday,” panted Donna as Benedict steadily increased the pressure on her clit. “Shit – like that – oh oh oh yes! He’s close friends with one of the supervisors, Chet Englemann.”

“I saw your husband coming out of his office right before my appointment. Chet paused to introduce us. Apparently, your husband is a _huge_ Sherlock fan,” remarked Benedict cheekily, as he adjusted Donna’s grip on him. “Ooooo…fuck me…God…yes. That feels divine! Honestly, Donna, I don’t know how you can stand all that bounciness - it must be like being married to bloody Tigger,” he quipped. "Christ, he must be terrible in bed."

“Danny started out as a fur character. How did you know he was once Tigger?”

“Lucky guess,” Benedict smirked. “Just the way he carries himself – always so motherfucking happy and cheerful. Everything is ‘cool, man’ and ‘that is an unbelievably amazing idea, man’ – and I hate the way he calls you ‘Babe’ and ‘Sugar’ – it’s positively nauseating!”

Donna giggled at Benedict’s spot on imitation of Danny. “It’s Shuga, not Sugar.”

Benedict rolled his eyes. “I’ve never seen anything like it. He’s the perfect Disney employee. No wonder they made the son of a bitch a Vice President. By the way, Jamie Oliver's new restaurant is opening Wednesday night, have you been invited?"

"Probably...if Danny's a Disney VP, then I imagine so."

Donna froze as Benedict paused to study her slightly bulging abdomen. He ran his large, warm hand over the bump and smiled tenderly at her.

“Our baby,” he said dreamily, leaning over to plant a gentle kiss on her stomach. “Your showing much sooner than last time. Does the wanker have any idea the baby isn't his?” _  
_

_Our baby! Benedict got me pregnant? It’s not Danny’s? Is Tina his, too?_

“Are we sure it isn’t Danny’s baby?” asked Donna meekly, as her passion began to wane.

Benedict sat up and looked puzzled. “Of course we are! Danny was in Japan, scouting for live entertainers when you got pregnant. He was auditioning Taiko Drummers or some other act. Remember when we met up in New York while you were interviewing with the New York Times? By the way that was a brilliant idea to take that job. I’m always going back and forth to New York for promotional crap, so we’ll have even more opportunities to be together.”

_So the New York Times job was my idea to get more time with my lover. Hmmm…I had no idea I was such a little schemer! Since I’ve apparently already discussed this with him, perhaps he can shed some light on things._

“I guess I’ll be doing a lot of commuting?” ventured Donna.

“Yeah, but think of the frequent flyer miles you’re going to rack up! I bet you’ll have enough for a holiday in London in no time!” Benedict smiled at her. “I also have a special Christmas gift for you.”

“I thought this was my gift – a good, hard fuck, as you so eloquently put it!” she gasped as a pre-orgasmic tremor passed through her groin area.

Benedict snickered. “Good one! I don’t like sneaking into your town house when I’m in New York. We’re taking a big chance with Carly and Steven living downstairs, so I bought us a small condo in the meatpacking district. It has a Hudson River View, and it’s close to the subway and Chelsea Market.” _  
_

_Lucky me – a dream house and a love nest all in the same day!_

“Commuting back and forth is going to be hard on my family,” observed Donna, feeling guilty.

“I thought you said you’d only have to be in New York for three days a week. That’s not so terrible! I’m often away from home for months at a time for my work. Besides, didn’t you tell me that Danny often goes to the New York office for meetings? You’ll have plenty of _family_ time together,” Benedict sneered.

“Touche,” said Donna.

“I will never forget those three lust-filled days and nights we spent in New York, trying to conceive our baby. They are burned in my memory forever, Darling.”

_Whoa hoa here! Benedict and I planned this baby??? Jeeze Louise! I think I would have remembered three lust-filled days and nights in Benedict’s arms. Something is definitely not right._

Benedict leaned down and kissed Donna’s belly. “I just think it’s funny that he hasn’t realized this isn’t his baby! I can’t believe you married such a tit!”

“It’s not funny!” snapped Donna, pushing Benedict away. “I need to divorce him so we can be together!”

Benedict frowned. “You can’t leave him any more than I can leave Olivia,” he said with resignation. “Olivia wrote the screenplays for my Oscar-winning roles and most of my other awards. We’re forever intertwined, I’m afraid, because of the work. Then there’s Penny! She’s my daughter with Olivia, and I love her with all my heart and soul. And you can’t just pick up and leave Danny. You have two children with him to think about, not to mention all the perks you get from his job, which you so dearly love.”

_Okay. Tina’s Danny’s child. That’s a relief._

“But what about our baby together, Benedict?” cried Donna, pushing his errant curl off his forehead.

Benedict kissed her gently and absently stroked her hair. “We’ll think of something, Love. But right now, we need to enjoy these stolen moments.”

Benedict ran his fingers along her lower belly until he reached her vulva. He penetrated her with his fingers and began to move them gently in and out.

“Mmmm…just how I like you…nice and wet…and it’s all because I arouse you like no one else can. Do you have any idea what that does to me?” he asked hoarsely, rubbing his still-hard penis against her thigh.

Donna felt his thumb caress her throbbing clit as he continued to finger fuck her.

“Ben…stop…no…don’t stop!” She moaned loudly, as he covered her mouth with his, tongue darting against her own.

Benedict broke the kiss and looked at her. “Erm…someone’s being very greedy this afternoon. I’m doing all the work here, what about me?” he demanded in a husky voice. “My peen could use some attention.”

“Go down on me, Benedict. I want to feel your tongue on me.”

“Aren’t you being a tad selfish? Not unless there’s something in it for me, Darling,” he said, looking pointedly at her.

“There’ll be plenty in it for you!” Donna playfully pushed Benedict back against the pillows. She got up onto her knees and straddled him, while facing away from him. The she backed up so as to give him access to her most sensitive areas.

“Now. Eat me, damn you!” Donna commanded, as she leaned forward to take his penis into her mouth.

“Fuck, that feels amazing!” he sighed. “I love when we do this.”

Donna felt his nose nuzzle her public hair and his warm, wet tongue begin to lick her folds slowly and deliberately.

“This is the best holiday treat I could ever hope for,” he groaned. “You are succulent.”

“Mmmmmm,” she purred. “Mmmmmmmmm...you're quite tasty yourself.”

_Now, shut up and stop talking, Benedict! Danny rarely spoke in bed…maybe that was why we didn’t connect in the beginning. I wonder if he does now?_

Benedict’s tongue moved to dart in between her folds, searching for her clitoris. Finally, he found it, judging by her loud moans of unbridled lust.

Donna continued to suck the head of his penis, while moving her hand up and down along his shaft. She slid her tongue under his foreskin and felt his body begin to tense underneath her. His tongue was unrelenting as it swirled around and lapped at her swollen clit, causing her to shudder. It felt as if she would soon explode.

“Donna,” Benedict panted. “I’m too close! You need to stop!”

“We can’t stop now! I’m so close!” she cried.

“I want to change positions. I want to be inside you when I come!” he exclaimed. “I don’t want to finish like this! I can’t properly concentrate with you sucking me off like that…OH bloody fucking hell! STOP for fucks sake, woman!”

Donna ceased her actions and turned to face Benedict. His chest was heaving, and the fine blond hairs on his arms were standing up on end. Donna leaned down to kiss him, tongue parting his swollen pink cupid’s bow lips. He sucked on her tongue as he rubbed her clitoris between his index finger and thumb causing her toes to curl.

“Aaaaahhhhhh…Ben…I’m going to come! I can’t stand it!”

“Ride me for fucks sake! Now!” he begged, as he took himself in hand and pumped himself. “NOW. PLEASE.”

Donna positioned herself above Benedict and carefully lowered herself onto his penis until he filled her completely. He looked at where they were joined with half-lidded eyes and smiled at her.

“My God! I love how this feels!” he cried as she began to move slowly up and down.

Donna could feel his body trembling as she moved her hips in a circular motion in order to get the friction that she needed in order to climax. She made sure her clit came into contact with Benedict’s pubic bone every time she moved down. He used one hand to steady her, while using the thumb on his free hand to caress her tiny nub. He was thrusting his hips upwards in order to coincide with her down stroke. They were both sweating and panting loudly, the sound of moist skin slapping together.

“Faster!” he bellowed. “Faster for fucks sake! I’m so fucking close! Just another minute…AhhhhhhhhHHHHHH!”

“You, too, damn you! Go faster! I need more friction!”

“FUCK YES!” Benedict shouted as he climaxed. “I LOVE YOU, DONNA!”

“BEN, BEN, BEN…OH MY BEN HONEY…I LOVE YOU!” Donna screamed as her orgasm pulsed through her groin area. “I don’t want anyone else but you!”

The two of them lay still for a moment while coming down from their climaxes. Donna rested her head on Benedict’s chest, while he caressed her back, murmuring tender words of endearment into her ear.

“Well, well. I come back to check on you because you were sooo tired, and look what I find! Apparently, you needed company in order to nap.” _  
_

_FUCK! It’s Danny!_

“We’re fucked!” Donna exclaimed in a panic.

"So it would seem," came Danny's voice again.

“I thought you said the wanker was at the parade,” growled Benedict in a low urgent tone. “This is our second fucking of the day.”

“I guess you needed to conserve your energy so you could ride him instead of Big Thunder Mountain,” continued Danny’s sarcastic voice from the doorway to the room. “And from the sound of it, that was some storm.”

Benedict scrambled to pull the covers over him and Donna. He had the look of a deer that had been caught in the headlights.

“Danny, it’s not what you think,” Began Donna timidly, twisting the sheets.

“Of course it is, for fucks sake!” snapped Benedict angrily. “It’s exactly what he thinks!”

“And I thought we were having such a good time on Small World this morning. I suppose it really _is_ a small world after all, Mr. Cumberbatch. To think that only yesterday, we were shaking hands; and today you’re busy shaking my wife’s booty while you fuck her,” he spat angrily.

“I don’t know what to say,” cried Donna, trying to will away the aftershocks of her climax.

“Well, I for one...” began Benedict.

“Fuck off, Dude! You are nothing but a hot shit celebrity who’s used to getting his way, and I’m not impressed one little bit. Now, you’re going to take some direction from me, you asshole.”

“You can’t talk to me like that!” snarled Benedict.

Danny barked a sarcastic laugh. “I just did, Shergar. How apropos to compare yourself to Shergar, because you _are_ one ugly dude. Now, your first direction is to shut the fuck up, Cumperpatch,” he commanded angrily.

“It’s Cumberbatch. C as in...” retorted Benedict with venom.

Danny waved his had dismissively at Benedict. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Cumber-whatever. I don’t give a flying fuck what your name is or how it’s spelled. I don’t want to hear any long-winded explanations from you. I want to hear what my wife has to say.”

Danny came to stand over the bed, fists clenched at his sides. He glared at Donna, as he picked her wedding ring up from the nightstand and tossed it at her.

“To quote an old Gershwin song: How long has this been going on?”

 

 

 

Donna Saint James awoke with a start. She felt as if she had experienced a very intense orgasm. Her panties felt wet and her breath was coming in ragged gasps. The clock showed midnight. She was in the king-sized bed in the apartment she had sublet in London. The central air was humming away. It took a few minutes for Donna’s breathing to return to normal. The chime alerting her to a text message on her cellphone sounded. She looked at the message. It was from Benedict.

 

**Are you still up? B  
**

**I just woke up from a dream. D  
**

_Or should I say nightmare. Christ, that was awful!_ **  
**

**I hope it was a pleasant one. B  
**

**Parts of it were very pleasant. D  
**

_And others were absolutely terrifying!_ **  
**

**Was I in your dream? B  
**

**Yes. You were in the pleasant part. D  
**

**Were we doing anything to cause pleasure? B  
**

**Yes. We were doing 69 on each other…it was very… intense. D  
**

**Christ. I’ve got an early call tomorrow. B  
**

**Then you begged me to ride you, and I did. D  
**

**You really got off on it.** **D  
**

**We both did. D  
**

**You have an amazing tongue. I can’t wait to experience it in real life. D**

**For fucks sake! Now, I won’t be able to sleep without having to jerk off! B  
**

**Tsk tsk. You need to control yourself.  ;-p  D  
**

**How can I with these sexy images of you swirling around in my head? B  
**

**Funny, my tongue was swirling around your head in my dream. D  
**

**Ben? D  
**

**You have no idea how worked up I am right now. I’m so fucking horny! B  
**

**Well, I have to get up early, too. Love you, Ben. Sweet dreams! Dxoxo**

Half an hour later, after changing her panties and brushing her teeth, Donna was about to switch off her cellphone for the night, when she thought of something she wanted to ask Benedict. **  
**

**Ben, are you still up? D  
**

**Not any longer. That was one intense climax, courtesy of your sexy dream! ;-D   I’m sure I’ll sleep like a baby now. B  
**

_I wish he hadn’t mention the word ‘baby’._ **  
**

**I kept meaning to ask you something. D  
**

**What? B  
**

**How do you feel about spending Christmas at Walt Disney World one day?  D**

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I personally love Walt Disney World during the Christmas Season - it is such a festive and happy place. I have been there between Thanksgiving and Christmas once and yearn to return. 
> 
> 2\. All the restaurants, theme parks, shows, hotels, etc are real places within Walt Disney World with the exception of Jamie Oliver's restaurant and the Sherlock ride in the UK Pavilion in Epcot (wouldn't that be wonderful though - LOL!)
> 
> 3\. Tonga Toast is the most popular breakfast dish at the Kona Cafe in Disney's Polynesian Resort. It is thick sourdough bread stuffed with fresh bananas, deep fried and rolled in cinnamon/sugar. It is a deep-fried delight. 
> 
> 4\. All the places in New York City with the exception of Takashashi are real/were real. Some of the restaurants have since closed, but were open in 2009. I have personally been to all of them.
> 
> 5\. Due to the holidays, I'm not sure when I'll be posting the next chapter; as we'll be taking a short vacation starting next Sunday. It will most likely be 1/4/15.
> 
> Here's Wishing Happy Holidays and a Happy, Healthy and Prosperous New Year to all my lovely readers! xxoo


	70. Chapter 70

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Donna eats humble pie for breakfast. Wanda and Timothy find themselves unexpectedly embroiled in a game of Good Cop/Bad Cop. Benedict’s text finger is bored.
> 
> There’s an awful lot of waffling in this chapter, which is appropriate being they are having breakfast. LOL!

 

Donna Saint James approached the table filled with dread and regarded Wanda and Timothy Cumberbatch. She was extremely nervous and smiled slightly at them, unsure of what their reaction was going to be. 

_Here goes nothing! I must make this work! I need to throw myself on the mercy of the court as Mom would say.  
_

“Good Morning Wanda, Tim. I hope I didn’t keep you waiting long.” 

Timothy gave her what looked to be a forced smile and dipped his head slightly to nod at her. 

“Good Morning,” he acknowledged in a curtly tone. “I’m glad you're timely as we have much to discuss.” 

_Well, so much for the pleasantries as far as he’s concerned._

“Good Morning, Donna. You’re right on time,” replied Wanda briskly. “We find it tremendously refreshing as Benedict is _never_ on time.” 

“Don’t _I_ know it!” laughed Donna, slapping her thigh. 

“Do _you_ now?” challenged Timothy in a haughty tone. “You seem to be well…acquainted _…._ with our son - from what we’ve seen.” 

Donna immediately stopped laughing. 

_Whoa hoa! Talk about jumping right in. Oh, Donna, why did you say that? You set him off._

Wanda looked truly astonished at her husband’s snarky comment, and then shot him a look, while searching for his foot under the table. 

_What the fuck is he doing? I thought we weren’t going for attack mode. We were supposed to sit back and let her do all the talking._ Wanda located Timothy’s foot and gently nudged it with hers. 

_Now shut up, Tim; and turn down that belligerent attitude!_

Timothy sat back and regarded Donna with a raised eyebrow as he eagerly awaited her response. His hazel eyes seemed to bore right into her.

_How should I answer him now that he’s obviously trying to goad me into an argument? I won’t give him the satisfaction of lowering myself by giving him a snippy answer.  
_

_So much for my posh manners today. I just couldn’t help myself,_ thought Timothy angrily. _I should not have started things off on the wrong foot. Wanda will dress me down later for this.  
_

“I think my husband was inquiring as to how long you and Benedict have known each other,” said Wanda as she moved her foot next to Timothy’s and gave it a firmer nudge. 

_What I should have said was: My husband seems to be trying to pick up where we left off last night!_

Timothy glared at Wanda. “Your husband can speak for himself, thank you,” he said sarcastically. “Yes, I’m very curious as to when you and our son got together. I, for one, would like to know just how long you’ve been dallying with Benedict behind Jimmy Rhodes’ back.” 

Timothy felt Wanda’s foot give his foot an extremely firm nudge, which bordered on actual pain. 

Wanda caught the server peeking out from the kitchen out of the corner of her eye. The girl pulled out her order pad and started to approach their table. 

_Hells bells!  Where are our manners?  We haven't even invited Donna to sit yet!  How cheeky are we?_

“This isn’t how I intended our conversation to begin,” said Wanda in a low voice. “The server is coming to take our order; and I really don’t think we want to air our dirty laundry in front of her, do we?” She looked at her husband pointedly. “There’s plenty of time for that." Wanda turned her gaze on Donna again. "Please have a seat, Donna.  It wasn't our intention to start another row without first having some pleasantries.” 

Timothy nodded his head grudgingly in agreement. “No, of course not, Pet. I can wait. My apologies, Donna, for being stropy. Please sit.” 

_Great! He’s going to wait to unleash his venom over breakfast,_ thought Donna. _I really wanted to get this over with before he has time to stew some more. It’s funny – I thought she was going to be the difficult one. He’s very much like Benedict once he’s angered.  
_

Wanda stared meaningfully at her husband and nudged his foot a bit harder still, as Donna considered the two empty chairs. 

_Where are your manners, Timothy? Pull out her chair for fucks sake.  
_

_Oh, yes. My wife expects me to pull out her chair._

Timothy rose and pulled out a chair for Donna. 

“Please don’t get up, Tim. I can…” 

“ _Please_ sit down, Donna,” he said quietly. 

“Good Morning!” said the pretty, dark-haired server with great enthusiasm. “Welcome to the Blackberry Bramble Tavern. Have you had a chance to look over the menu?” 

“Not yet,” replied Wanda. “We got caught up in chatting.” 

_Humph, that was not chatting. That was the start of verbal sparring,_ thought Donna miserably as she sat on the chair and unceremoniously dropped her handbag onto the floor. 

“We have a lovely special this morning. Two farm fresh poached eggs from our very own hen house behind the garden….OOOUUUCCCHHHH!” 

The girl dropped her order pad and looked down. Donna’s heavy handbag was resting on her instep. She glared at Donna momentarily, and then quickly recovered her smile. 

Wanda and Timothy exchanged knowing glances and peeked under the table. 

_Holy Mary! Thank goodness it wasn’t on my side of her chair!_ Thought Timothy with relief. _That could have been Wanda! That has got to hurt like a son of a bitch. I remember how red and swollen Wanda’s instep was at the Orangery._

_That was a close call! Another few centimeters and that would have been my foot…again_ , thought Wanda. _That poor bird picked the wrong place to stand._

“Could you please move your handbag, Miss? That really hurt.” 

“I’m so sorry!” exclaimed Donna, grabbing the bag and hanging it over the back of her chair.   “I didn’t realize your foot was there. Are you okay?” 

_And now she’s going to offer to get some ice_ , thought Timothy with amusement. _Unless she has some already stashed away in a plastic bag just in case._

_She can’t offer the bandage because she’s already wearing it_ , thought Wanda. _Unless she has a spare one just in case._

The server nodded and continued with her description of the breakfast special. “As I was saying, this morning’s special is two poached eggs and Darjeeling tea-smoked salmon on a toasted, buttered, house-baked crumpet, covered with a truffle and dill hollandaise sauce. It comes with a side of Lyonnaise potatoes or fresh fruit compote.” 

“Here! Take my chair; and I’ll get you some ice,” suggested Donna as she started to get up. 

_Christ on a crutch! The feeling of déjà vu is overwhelming_ , thought Timothy. 

“No, please don’t trouble yourself,” said the server. “I’m sure it’s just going to be sore for a little while. I’ll sort it out in the kitchen. We’ve got a first aid kit.” 

“I’m really, really sorry,” continued Donna, face red. “It was an accident.” 

“May I get you all some coffees or teas while you look over the menu then?” 

“Is the bar open yet?” asked Timothy hopefully.   

Donna noticed Timothy shift in his seat uncomfortably as he shot a withering look at Wanda. 

_I bet she kicked him under the table! Oh my!  
_

_That one fucking hurt,_ thought Timothy. _  
_

“I’ll have a mocha latte, please,” said Wanda pleasantly. 

“I fancy a small orange juice and a café Americano,” said Timothy. “Unless the bar is open, then I’ll have a Bloody Mary – light on the tomato juice.” 

_No drinking this early, Tim!_ Wanda aimed her foot and hit air. _Where’s his bloody foot?_

Wanda cast a glance under the table to see that Timothy had moved his feet back under his chair so she couldn’t reach him. He gave her a cheeky grin. 

“And for you, Miss?” 

Wanda, Timothy and the server all stared at Donna, who was rummaging around in her handbag, oblivious to them. The server and Wanda’s eyes met for a moment. The girl bent down and whispered to Wanda. 

“It really doesn’t hurt _all_ that bad…I just need to get off of it for a bit and use an ice pack.” 

“Believe me, Love. I’ve felt your pain – literally,” commiserated Wanda, shaking her head. “MI6 could easily classify that handbag as a secret weapon.” 

Donna straightened up. “I thought I had an extra bandage, but I don’t.” 

“It’s fine, _really_ ,” said the server. “What can I get you to drink, Miss?” 

“An English breakfast tea and a glass of still water please.” 

The server limped away as the trio sat in silence. 

_Let’s get this over with, Donna. Dragging it out isn’t going to make it any easier. It’s time to offer up an apology. These people are very likely to be your in-laws one day.  
_

“Shall we begin then. Now, where were we?” began Timothy coldly. 

“Starting to trade barbs,” snapped Wanda. She looked at Donna. “You must forgive his display of temper. He hasn’t had his coffee yet.” 

“I want to know just how you arrived at the conclusion that my wife and I were lovers.” Timothy inquired. _  
_

“Wanda, Tim, let me start by saying that I feel awful about what happened in the hallway last night,” began Donna. “I was convinced that you two were having an affair until we had those…those…heated...."

"Insulting.  Those were insulting words that came forth from your mouth, Donna.  You called my wife a two-bit tramp.  I believe that was the charming expression you used yes?" spat Timothy.

_Okay.  Timothy doesn't believe in mincing words or beating around the bush._

Donna hung her head in shame before meeting his eyes. "They were poorly-chosen, heated words for which I deeply regret uttering before I knew the whole story."

"Did you find out from Benedict that we were married?" asked Wanda, refolding her serviette on her lap.

"No. I realized on my own that something wasn’t adding up. So, I looked you both up on the internet and found that you really were married to each other and that Benedict was your son.” 

“Who on earth did you think we were married to?” asked Timothy, flabbergasted. 

“I thought you were married to that petite, brown-haired woman wearing the big glasses who was sitting beside you at _Cabin Pressure_.” 

“Her name is Una Stubbs, and she’s a very close friend of mine,” explained Wanda. “She’s the one who advised me when I was composing the Craigslist ad.” 

“And who did you think Wanda was married to?” continued Timothy. 

“Joss Ackland,” replied Donna. “I saw Wanda having coffee with him and Benedict’s best friend, Adam, one morning in Paternoster Square...” 

“Remember I told you about how Donna dragged the sandwich board all the way to the doorway of Carldonn Creative Catering and then lost her shoe?” Wanda said as an aside to Timothy. 

“Vividly,” chuckled Timothy. 

_Good gravy! They remember every one of my faux pas,_ thought Donna glumly. _If Benedict and I get married, they’d be just the type to tell our kids all about their klutzy mother.  
_

“…and I incorrectly assumed that they were your family. I thought Adam was your son, whom I was supposed to accidentally meet. Everything fell into place last night when I did my internet search.” 

“Surely, Benedict told you about us?” asked Timothy with a frown. “It’s fairly obvious you and he are more than friends.” 

_Oh, Donna, he’s fishing for information. He wants you to acknowledge that you and Benedict are together.  
_

“Please let her finish,” said Wanda, reaching out to touch his sleeve. “There will be plenty of time for us to ask our questions.” 

“Benedict talks about you two all the time – how you’ve always supported and encouraged him in his career….” 

_Humph! Benedict left out all the rows we had when he told us he intended to pursue acting as a career,_ thought Wanda with amusement. 

“…in spite of neither of you being particularly crazy about the idea.” 

Wanda smiled to herself. _Ah, so he does tell her everything. There’s no way they only met that day at the market._

“I love how he lights up whenever he speaks of how you showered him with unconditional love and affection. He loves and admires you both more than you’ll ever know. And from what I can see, you have been splendid role models for him. He’s a wonderful man in his own right, you should both be proud of how he turned out.” 

Timothy and Wanda nodded and exchanged a smile before returning their attention to Donna. 

“So, now we’re good role models. That wasn’t the tune you were singing last night,” quipped Timothy. “You were ready to brand us with scarlet A’s.” 

Donna bowed her head down for a moment as she struggled to keep herself under control. She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. 

_He hates me. She keeps looking at me expectantly. Tell them the truth. Tell them exactly how you felt._ _Just keep apologizing._

Donna swallowed over the lump that had formed in her throat. 

“Correct. I thought you two were just despicable, and I was very angry last night. However, that was before I found out you two weren’t having an affair after all,” Donna said quietly. “I don’t feel that way anymore now that I know the truth.” 

Donna’s cellphone alerted her that there was a text message. She stole a peek at it. It was Benedict:

 

**Hello! Scenes are going brilliantly – everyone knows their lines for a change, and we’re nailing it on the first takes. I should be back by noon at the latest. B**

“Excuse me for a moment,” said Donna as she quickly replied to his text. “It’s Benedict giving me an update.” 

“That could take a while,” remarked Wanda sarcastically. 

“We don’t have all morning,” grumbled Timothy. 

**Great! I'll be waiting! Dxoxo  
**

As Donna was about to put her cellphone away, the text chime sounded again. It was Benedict. 

“He’s back.” 

“He never left,” commented Wanda wryly. 

“You need to limit him or he’ll be at it until they literally drag him back to set. Believe me, I’ve been a victim of his texts many, many times,” sighed Timothy. **  
**

**Are your cramps gone? B**

_Shit! Tim’s right. He must be in between scenes and wants to chat! Nooooo!  
_

**Yes. Thanks for asking. See you later! Dxoxo  
**

**You’re not very talkative or should I say textative? LOL B  
**

Donna looked at Wanda and Timothy helplessly. **  
**

“You were right, Tim. He’s definitely in a chatty mood."

"Which roughly translates to the text of death," sighed Wanda with obvious annoyance. "He'll just keep prattling on until they call for him."

“I don’t know which are worse – his texts or his _War and Peace_ -inspired voice mails,” mused Timothy. 

“The voice mails,” said Donna without hesitation. “Definitely the voice mails.” 

Wanda rolled her eyes. _He’ll just keep texting until they call for him._

“Hells bells! They must be blocking the scene. Why now of all times?” 

Timothy also rolled his eyes.   “Tell him you’re busy, Donna, and cut him off. It’s your only option. Believe me, I know,” he smirked.

 

**Did you have breakfast? B  
**

**I’m glad you thought to have something sent up for me. All they have here is porridge and muffins that must have been made with Weetabix. The catering has been rubbish. B  
**

“Here goes nothing,” said Donna as she typed back a response. **  
**

**Yes. As a matter of fact, I’m having it now. I’ll see you later. Dxoxo**

**What are you having? B**

“Jeez Louise!” exclaimed Donna. “He wants to know what I had for breakfast.” 

**Banana stuffed French toast, bacon, sausages and hot tea. D**

**No water??  I'm horrified! B  
**

Yes, I'm having water. D

**Silly me!  What was I thinking? B**

**So that's it then? B**

Yes. D

**I have to say that is a very disappointing response for a food critic. B  
**

_Jeez Louise!  What did he want me to say?  Oh, he wanted more detail, but I haven't eaten it yet!_

**You’re quite the carnivore. Bacon AND sausages! B**

Wanda leaned over to see what Benedict had typed. 

“Tell him you have to use the loo,” she instructed brusquely. 

**It was very good. I really hate to rush you, Ben; but I’ve got to use the bathroom. I may be a few minutes. Love you! Dxxx**

“Okay, that should do it.” 

_That’s what she thinks. This is just a brief lull while he’s typing,_ thought Timothy. 

**Bring your mobile with you. That’s what I do. This way we can still text. B  
**

_Jesus Christ! I always suspected he did that, but to actually get the confirmation. Eeewwww_ , thought Donna. 

She grimaced outwardly. “ _Really, Ben_? While I’m on the damn toilet?” she mumbled to herself. 

_Ah, he must want her to keep texting him from the loo,_ thought Wanda with amusement. _She’s none too chuffed about that. Sorry, Donna; but that’s one habit I could never break him of. Good luck to you!  
_

**Well, I don’t know about you, but I need both hands to take care of business. D  
**

**It depends on what I’m in there for. B  
**

“Ignore him,” said Timothy in an irritated voice. “He’ll happily debate the quality of the loo roll with you if you let him.” 

Donna’s text chime went off again. She read the message: 

**Are you bored? I feel bad about leaving you all alone up in the room. B  
**

_Bored! Are you fucking kidding me? I’m down here apologizing to your parents for acting like a complete and utter ass last night, so we can have some semblance of a relationship; and you want to know if I’m bored. The answer is a resounding motherfucking NO._ **_  
_**

**I honestly can’t say that I am. I have to go now. Nature calls. Love you. Dxoxo  
**

**Well, I am absolutely bored to tears! It’s taking them an age to set up this last scene. B  
**

**Don’t you have a book to read in between scenes? D  
**

**I finished it on the van. B  
**

_And you’re going to continue to fill that void by texting me. Good grief!  
_

**I’m sure they’ll be calling you back to the set soon.  Shouldn't you be where they can find you? D**

**I'm sitting on a chair right off the set.  Everyone can see me, but not what I'm texting. B  
**

**If I forgot to tell you, I thought you looked deliciously hot last night. I wanted to rip off that outfit and run my hands and tongue all over your body. B  
**

Timothy and Wanda noticed that the expression on Donna’s face suddenly went from annoyed to interested. 

**Thank you. I was hoping we were going to get to that, too. Unfortunately, my body had other plans.** **:-(** **D  
**

**I so wanted to give you the same kind of mind-numbing climax you gave to me. I was totally spent afterwards. I just wanted to float away on that lovely orgasmic cloud I was enveloped in. B  
**

_He’s sending me erotic texts. He’s going to kill me. The man should be a writer._ **  
**

**Oh, my! You seem to be typing with your dirty-minded finger? D  
**

**Absolutely. My finger wishes more than anything that it were buried deep inside you right now. B  
**

_If I were upstairs alone right now, I’d be touching myself. Oh, oh. Wanda and Tim are starting to give me funny looks. I hope they don’t guess that their son is texting naughty things to me.  
_

**My finger wants to ever-so-gently, rub your clit. Faster and faster until your back is arching and your hips bucking while those gorgeous, creamy breasts of yours are heaving with need and desire. Then I would use my tongue to bring you to climax. B**

Donna could feel her face getting warm as she read the text. 

**Please tell your finger to stop now! I’m getting horny from these texts. I think I need to be alone for a while. Bye! Dxoxo  
**

**I thought you had to use the loo? Are you trying to get rid of me? B  
**

_YES! YES! YES!  
_

**I do, and I can’t text in there. I get performance anxiety. D**

**RONTFLMAO! B** _  
_

_That was without doubt the shortest text message he ever sent me!  
_

**I’ll let you go then. Thank you again for last night. I really enjoyed myself. That was the best blow job I’ve ever had. You have an extraordinary mouth, my darling. It was so intense, and I was just over the moon afterwards. I’m getting stiff just thinking about it. I hope you get over your period quick, so I can return the favor.  ;^D  B  
**

_No! No! No! This is a fucking nightmare. He should only know that his parents are sitting on either side of me. Carly will never believe this.  
_

“Just turn off your mobile, Donna. It’s the only way – believe me,” said Wanda. “He doesn’t get angry. He understands that he’s too wordy.” _  
_

“For fucks sake, give me your mobile,” snapped Timothy, impatiently snatching the mobile out of Donna’s hand. 

_NO! What is he doing? How dare he!  
_

“Excuse me! That’s my phone!” exclaimed Donna as she felt a wave of panic wash over her. _  
_

“Timothy Carlton Congdon Cumberbatch! What in the hell are you doing?” demanded Wanda. “Give her back her bloody mobile!” 

Donna’s face turned several shades of red as Timothy's eyes roamed over the lines of text. 

“Please give me back my phone! That conversation is none of your business, Tim!” 

Timothy's hand froze in midair as he stared in shock at Benedict’s text message. _  
_

_Bloody fucking hell! Why did I have to do that? I did not need to know how Benedict spent his evening receiving head from her and what he wants to do in return._

The expression on Timothy’s face told Donna that he had read the exchange. His face turned crimson, and he bit his lip. 

_He’s every bit as nosy as Benedict, who also would have read my texts. Now, he’s as embarrassed as I am. Good. He should be! God, I hope he doesn’t tell Wanda! Who am I kidding? He’ll tell her as soon as they’re alone._

Wanda looked from one to the other. Donna, in particular, looked as if she wanted to crawl under the table. Timothy looked totally embarrassed. 

_From the expressions on their faces, there must have been some sexy texting going on, bless my son and his over-active libido._

Timothy cleared his throat and simply typed:

 

**Looking forward to it. D  
**

Satisfied, Timothy hit enter and switched off her mobile. “There,” he said gruffly, handing it back to Donna. “He only would have kept going. Sometimes you just need to cut him off.” 

“So, what did he have to say?” inquired Wanda innocently. 

Donna bit her lip. “Umm…he says the scenes are going very well, and he’ll be back here by noon. We plan on driving back to London together.” 

Timothy held back the snicker that threatened to escape from his mouth. 

_That’s not all he said. At least my son’s being well taken care of from the sound of that text._

“Well you’d best continue then,” said Wanda. “Unlike him, the production van will be more or less on time.” 

Donna nodded. “Where was I? Oh, yes. That day at the Orangery when you were interviewing me, I truly thought Tim was eavesdropping on our conversation.” 

“Which I was,” chimed in Timothy. “I thought my surveillance technique was rather good by that time,” he added proudly to his wife. 

“As did I. Well, obviously it was rubbish,” quipped Wanda. 

“That wasn’t the first interview you conducted?” asked Donna. 

“Oh, no! I believe I conducted over twenty. You were the last one I interviewed,” explained Wanda. 

“ _We_. What happened to _we_?” interrupted Timothy. “I was there, too.” 

“And that’s what aroused my curiosity,” said Donna. “I noticed that you two seemed to be exchanging text messages. Then Wanda said her husband was home sick, so I didn’t give it a second thought. I figured it was a coincidence. When I came back from the ladies room and found you two talking, I again became suspicious but chalked it up to Tim’s being attracted to you and doing some harmless flirting.” 

Wanda nodded. “I remember it well. You know I was so tired of all the dumb dolly birds I was meeting that I didn’t even want to go. I seriously wanted to cancel on you; but Tim insisted I soldier on because your email was so intriguingly worded.” 

Donna smiled. “And I was captivated by your ad because it was so unique. When has a mother ever placed an ad for a daughter-in-law? I’ve never seen such a thing! It was so cleverly worded that I just had to meet you – and your son. Might I add that Benedict turned out to be exactly as advertised!” she giggled. 

A male server approached with a tray, carrying their beverages. He placed them on the table and asked if they were ready to order. 

“I’m going to try the special,” said Wanda. “And can we also have one of those baked-to-order cinnamon rolls for the table.” 

Donna had already looked over the menu in the room, so she knew what she wanted. “I’ll have the banana-stuffed French toast and a side order of both the house-made sausage and streaky bacon, cooked crisp, please,” she said eagerly. 

_She’s like me. Nothing spoils her appetite, bless her,_ thought Wanda. 

Timothy took a quick look at the menu. “The mandarin orange French toast sounds brilliant.” 

“Are the oranges fresh?” inquired Donna skeptically. 

“Oh, I doubt they would use tinned oranges,” scoffed Timothy. “The menu says everything they use here is fresh.” 

“Oranges aren’t in season,” countered Donna. “Could you please find out?” She politely asked the server. “Canned fruit is just awful,” Donna said to Timothy. “The oranges will have an awful metallic taste.” 

They paused to fix their coffees and tea when the server returned to the table. He looked slightly embarrassed, as if he had news he was reluctant to deliver. 

“I’m happy to inform you that the oranges aren’t tinned. However, they are frozen, Miss. The chef said to tell you they are fresh-frozen.” 

“Of course they are,” scoffed Donna. “They wouldn’t freeze under ripe or fruit that was on the verge of rotting – though it’s been done before.” 

_Oh, how I would love to go out on a restaurant review with her_ , thought Wanda. _She knows all their tricks.  
_

_I can just imagine what dining out with her and Benedict must be like. He must question her endlessly about the food, and she probably answers him,_ thought Timothy _. After all, she the Tribune’s most popular restaurant critic; so she must know what she’s talking about._

Donna looked at Timothy. “The chef’s just trying to make it sound more appealing. Frozen isn’t as bad as canned, but none-the-less. It's your decision…” her voice trailed off. 

“I’ll have what she’s having then,” said Timothy abruptly. “But I don’t fancy overdone bacon.” 

_Overdone? Since when is crispy considered overdone? OH, wait. Benedict likes his bacon on the soft side. Like father, like son.  
_

“How is our other server’s foot?” inquired Donna with concern. 

“Sore. She’s sat in the kitchen with an ice pack on it,” replied the young man. “I have a feeling she’s not going to be able to work her shift,” he added. _  
_

With that he disappeared into the kitchen. Donna glanced at Wanda and Timothy and sighed.

“I must have really hurt her foot,” she said on the verge of tears. “I don’t know why these things happen to me all the time.” 

Wanda reached out and patted Donna’s hand. “Your handbag isn't all _that_ heavy. Hell, you dropped it on my instep; and I survived.” 

“That’s because my wife happens to have a high pain threshold,” said Timothy curtly. “Like hell it isn’t heavy!” 

Donna glanced at Wanda. “And I’m still so sorry about that afternoon! I was mortified! First, I dropped my purse and hurt your foot, and then I squirted you in the eye with the lemon and forgot to use the strainer when I poured the tea and you had a cupful of tea leaves. You were so kind not to make a big deal out of it. If that had been me, I would have got up and left.” 

_I did briefly consider it, but my foot hurt too much to get up at the time,_ thought Wanda as she sipped her latte. 

“The most humiliating part was when the desserts went all over Tim and his book,” Donna said in a rush. “I have nightmares about it sometime.” 

“Well, at least I found out about those brilliant stain removing wipes,” commented Wanda dryly. “They’re genius. I really should thank you for giving Tim more the day you met in the café in Marylebone.” 

“I think your problem is that you don’t pay close attention to what you’re doing at times, and you tend to rush through things,” commented Timothy after pondering Donna’s laments. “This morning was a perfect example. You just plopped that bloody thing down without even looking to see where you were actually putting it.” 

“We realize you didn’t do any of those things on purpose, Donna,” added Wanda. “I think you need to let it go now. In fact we all need to let it go. You’ve apologized, and we accept your apology.” 

“Not so fast, Wanda. I still have questions!” piped up Timothy. “Why did you spy on us when we were sitting on the bench, Donna?” he asked. 

Donna’s face reddened. _Holy cow! He really is hell bent on giving me a hard time_. “Well, as I said last night, I was in the garden taking photos…” 

“I’m not interested in your rubbish photos,” said Timothy with a dismissive gesture of his hand. “I want to know what possessed you to hide in the bushes and listen to our conversation?” he demanded, adding a bit more cream to his coffee. 

“You’re not the only one who has questions, Tim! Why did you two go to such lengths to pretend not to know each other in the Orangery?” Donna asked with a toss of her head. “I personally find that rather weird.” 

_Oh, Donna. You just called his parents ‘weird’. Not the best choice of words._

_She’s got us now_ , thought Wanda. 

Donna and Timothy stared at each other, waiting for the other to speak. 

“Well then?” asked Timothy finally. 

“Because I’m…well…I really _was_ taking photos of the gardens…at first. As I was walking out, I saw you and Wanda sitting on the bench together. I thought that was odd, so I stepped back and tried to go behind you because I wanted to know if you really knew each other or were just flirting.” 

“So you hid in the bushes so you could eavesdrop on us, yes?” 

Donna hung her head. “Okay. Fine. You got me. I was being nosy. I hid behind the bushes because that was the only way I could get close enough to hear your conversation. It was wrong, and I should not have done it. The parts of your conversation that I did hear seemed to confirm my suspicions that you were cheating on your respective spouses with each other.” 

Wanda sighed and shook her head in dismay. “I suppose I could see how you got the wrong idea.” 

“What about the day in the café when you were with Jimmy Rhodes? Surely, you knew Wanda and I were there together by that point yes?” 

Donna shook her head. “No! I thought it was a lovers’ rendezvous. That was my first date with James, so he didn’t really talk about either of you. The whole point of a first date is getting to know each other, rather than discussing your friend’s parents. You know, Wanda, by sneaking out the way you did, you only reinforced the idea that you and Tim were having an affair.” 

_If only my way hadn’t been blocked by that wanker, that wouldn’t have happened,_ thought Wanda miserably. 

“Here we are!” said the male server as he brought their breakfast over to the table. 

The trio remained silent until their food was served and coffees and Donna’s tea replenished. Finally, they were alone again. 

“Oh, this is delicious,” said Wanda as she ate some of her eggs. “Have a taste,” she said offering Timothy a forkful, which he impatiently waved away. 

“You still haven’t told me why you two were pretending not to know each other,” pointed out Donna as she cut into her French toast. “It seems very odd to me that you would go to such lengths to hide the fact that you were Benedict’s parents. Sooner or later, the candidate you chose would find out.” 

“We planned to tell whoever we selected that I was Ben’s father,” explained Timothy. “No one really noticed anything…odd… about our behaviour. You were more observant than most of the candidates.” 

Wanda and Timothy traded looks. He indicated with a barely perceptible nod of his head that Wanda should continue. 

“I wanted Tim along because I value his opinion, yet I felt if there were two of us at the interview that would turn some of the birds off. It wasn’t as if we were interviewing for the Barclays Bank CEO. We were looking for someone who would be compatible with our son. I wanted it to be a friendly one-on-one chat.” 

“That lunch interview with Samantha Alden-Thomas was anything but _friendly_ ,” smirked Timothy as he ate some of his breakfast. “This is excellent French toast by the way. Good call,” he said to Donna. 

_Good to hear I did something right. Perhaps there is still time to win him over._

Wanda sipped some of Tim's orange juice. “As I was saying, I felt if there were two of us present, some of the candidates may have felt intimidated. So, I had Timothy sit within hearing range so as he could give me his impressions afterwards.” 

Donna nodded as she ate some bacon. “Actually, that makes perfect sense to me,” she agreed. 

_Bloody hell! She thinks like Wanda_ , thought Timothy. _That is positively terrifying.  
_

_They never make the bacon crisp enough here. Gosh, how I miss home sometimes,_ thought Donna. _  
_

The three ate their breakfast in silence for a few minutes while they mulled over what had been discussed so far. 

_I wonder what they’re thinking,_ thought Donna. _Do they forgive me?_

_I totally understand why she felt that way_ , thought Wanda _, but I need to know how she and Benedict met and exactly what their relationship is – besides the obvious_. 

_I need to know how she knows Benedict_ , thought Timothy. _I want to hear it from her that she’s not cheating with him on Jimmy Rhodes._

Donna finally put down her knife and fork. She blotted her lips with the napkin and looked from Wanda to Timothy. 

“I have some questions for _you_ , Wanda,” said Donna. “If you don’t mind.” 

“Not at all. I’ll be happy to answer whatever I can.” 

“For starters, why don’t you two use Cumberbatch as your last name? That really added to my confusion. I thought your married name was Ventham, and your son’s name was Ben Ventham. And why would you send me a photo of Benedict’s best friend and tell me he was Benedict?” 

Timothy suddenly held up a hand to silence Donna and put down his knife and fork. 

“Wait a minute. I’m not quite finished with _my_ questions. Just how is it that you came to be acquainted with Benedict.” 

“I’d like to know that also,” chimed in Wanda. “As far as we know, you were supposedly dating Jimmy Rhodes – yet three weeks ago you were seen in Parliament Hill Farmers Market flirting with Ben’s best friend and now you’re here with Benedict…as his…. overnight guest.” 

“Wanda, now that I think about it, she said she wasn’t with Jimmy last night,” commented Timothy, as he helped himself to some of Wanda’s potatoes. 

_Jeez Louise! Now, they’re going to double team me!  
_

Donna took a deep breath before answering them. 

“As I told you at the Orangery, I was having an awful time meeting decent men, which is why I responded to your ad. Even though I wasn’t totally on board with your unorthodox way of carrying out your …,” Donna paused as she searched for an appropriate word. 

“Plan. We prefer to call it ‘The Plan’,” quipped Timothy, as he cast a meaningful look at his wife. 

“Plan. Thank you. Anyway, I was really looking forward to meeting your son, but it was taking Wanda so long to get back to me to settle on a place to have this accidental meeting that I was feeling discouraged. I don’t know if you two recall the review I did of Jamie Oliver’s restaurant ‘Comfort’ a while back.” 

Timothy nodded and smirked. “Vividly. You really raked the poor bastard over the coals. Well done you.” 

Wanda suddenly felt her heart begin to beat faster. She had a strange sense of excitement at hearing Donna’s words. 

“Well, Jamie wasn’t happy with my review…” 

“No shit,” chuckled Timothy bitterly. “That was an absolutely brutal review. It was reminiscent of that right bastard at the Times, who used to be their theatre critic.” 

Donna sat up straight at Timothy’s words. 

_Could he be talking about Uncle Rodney?  He's recently retired from the Drama Desk._

“Tim! Please let her finish,” snapped Wanda, eyes bright. 

“So, Jamie called the Tribune and asked me if I would come and have a chat with him about the review. He said he needed to understand what went wrong and wanted more details from me in order to correct the problems. I agreed to meet him one night at one of his restaurants.” 

“Which restaurant was that?” asked Wanda excitedly. 

“Barbecoa. It’s in New Change Place, the shopping mall across from Saint Paul’s Cathedral.” 

_IT IS HER!_ Thought Wanda, barely able to contain her excitement. She reached out and squeezed her husband's hand. 

_Could it be?_ Thought Timothy, also starting to feel a bit excited at the prospect. 

“To make a long story short, I arrived late and had to wait until dinner service was over in order to talk with Jamie. He invited me to stay and have dinner on the house. The only place left to sit was at one of the communal high top tables off the bar area. Benedict was already seated at the table they sat me at. We started talking and something clicked between us. At the end of the evening, he asked me out; and we began dating.” 

_I think I may faint_ , thought Wanda, feeling suddenly lightheaded. _She’s the one – all this time and it was her. She met Benedict on her own without any help from us! This is paramount!  
_

“How does Jimmy Rhodes fit into the picture then?” interrupted Timothy. 

“Tim! Stop being so damn cheeky and let her finish!” scolded Wanda. 

“I had met James at Steinway’s Flagship Store. I had gone in to escape a thunder storm. As I was wandering around, I came across him using one of their pianos and hung out with him for a while. We exchanged phone numbers, and he said he’d call me. I didn’t hear from him until several weeks later. By that time I was seeing Benedict on a regular basis.” 

“You were playing the field,” observed Wanda. 

Donna smiled. “Yes. I didn’t want to commit to anyone without getting to thoroughly know them – I’d been burnt before, so I was being extra cautious.” 

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” mused Timothy. “I’ve dated more than one woman at the same time back in the day.”

_And from those text messages, she's definitely gotten to know Ben thoroughly,_ thought Timothy as he suppressed a smirk. 

“Anyway, I soon discovered that my feelings for Benedict were far different than the ones I harbored for James. I was falling in love with Benedict, and he with me. As soon as I realized that, I broke it off with James. We decided that we were better off as friends rather than lovers. There was just no chemistry between us, like there was with Benedict and I.” 

“You’re Benedict’s bird,” said Wanda softly, a slight smile on her lips. 

“You’re the one he’s invited to Sunday lunch,” said Timothy. 

The three sat in silence, meals forgotten for the moment as everything sank in. 

“I really don’t have anything else to say,” Donna said, feeling the tears welling up inside. “Except that I hope you can both find it in your hearts to forgive my bad manners last night and put that horrible afternoon at the Orangery behind us. It’s so important to me that we get along, particularly for Benedict’s sake. Your son and I love each other very much and are hoping to have a future together.”

_Marriage!_ thought Timothy feeling as if his heart would burst. _Ben will finally has a shot at the happy marriage he's been longing for._

_Grandchildren!_ thought Wanda with joy. _Ben's broody days will soon be over, and Tim will have his own grand babies!_

 With that Donna got up from the table and ran from the restaurant in tears. 

Wanda and Timothy looked at each other and started to laugh with glee.

"She's the one!  All this time, and it was her all along, Tim!"

"How were we to know, Pet?  Jolly fucking good is all I can say."

"She will ensure that the Cumberbatch name will live on!"

"If they have sons, it will.  And before you say anything else, Wanda;  yes, I will be absolutely beyond over the moon with they present me with my first grandchild, boy or girl."

"Oh, I don't think I really give two shits what the sex of the children are - as long as they have them!"

"And as long as she doesn't kill Ben first with that bloody bag of hers," quipped Timothy.

"We'll always make sure never to sit next to her," said Wanda.  "Or maybe we'll buy her a smaller bag for Christmas."

“Shouldn’t you go after her and make sure she’s alright,” suggested Timothy. 

“Give her a few minutes to compose herself. It took a lot for her to admit all that,” said Wanda. 

“Yes, I suppose you’re right.” 

“We owe Donna an apology,” said Wanda. “We weren’t very gracious to her last night, and you were stropy enough for the both of us this morning.” 

“Indeed.” 

“What did you say?” Wanda cupped her hand around her ear. “You know what I long to hear.” 

Timothy tried to suppress a smile. “You are right, Love. We’ll apologize as soon as she comes back.” 

“So, what did Benedict’s text message say? You looked absolutely appalled, and she looked as if she wanted to bolt from the room.” 

Timothy reached out to cut a piece of the cinnamon roll. 

“Shit. It’s gotten cold.” He beckoned the server, who was hovering near the kitchen door. “Would you be kind enough to reheat the cinnamon roll?” 

“No problem, sir. I’ll be right back with it,” he replied whisking the plate away with him and back to the kitchen. 

“Well?” asked Wanda impatiently. 

“Well then,” answered a bemused Timothy. 

“Stop keeping me in suspense. What did his message say?” 

“Ah.” 

Wanda fixed him with a look. “The suspense is seriously killing me! Was he quoting her poetry? Ben does have your romantic streak, bless him.” 

“Hardly,” scoffed Timothy. “It seems Miss Saint James is quite skilled at performing fellatio, which is a topic you never covered during the interview process, if I recall correctly. Your son was extremely impressed with the results and wishes to return the favour as soon as she’s off her period. There. Now you know as much as I do. Happy?” 

Wanda nearly choked on her coffee. “Bloody hell!” 

Timothy laughed. “You always said he was – and I quote: a lusty little thing, bless him.” 

The couple sat lost in their own thoughts until the server returned with the hot cinnamon roll. As soon as he was back in the kitchen, Wanda’s face broke out into a huge grin as she slapped the table top. 

“I STILL CAN'T BELIEVE IT REALLY WAS HER ALL THIS TIME, TIM! SHE’S THE ONE HE’S IN A SERIOUS RELATIONSHIP WITH!” Wanda practically shouted. “WE’RE REALLY GOING TO GET THOSE GRANDCHILDREN AFTER ALL!” 

Timothy nodded and patted her hand. “I can’t tell you how relieved I am that she isn’t the little tart I thought she was. You know I was the one who sent her Adam’s photo, I obviously selected the wrong one.” 

“Oh, Tim! This means my plan was a success after all!” said Wanda gleefully, leaning over to hug Timothy. “It all wasn’t for nothing!” 

“ _Our_ plan, Commander,” corrected Timothy with a wink. 

“All this time they’ve been dating and we had no idea! We were so busy interviewing birds, whilst Benedict went out and really did find one on his own, bless him. We all picked Donna!” 

“Wanda. Think about what you just said. Benedict and Donna found each other on their own without any help from us.” 

“Hells bells! As long as they are together – that’s all I care about! It’s already mid-July. Hopefully, he’ll propose at Christmas. Then they can have a spring wedding – I love spring weddings! The weather is always so nice that time of year. I should check with the vicar to see if the church is free then. Do you realize that if they forgo the birth control and get down to business; we can have our first grandchild by New Year’s 2011! ”

“Hold that overly ambitious thought, Commander. Before we start writing the engagement announcement to post in the Times, let’s pause for a moment to think this through,” warned Timothy. “In reality, the plan didn’t work – which is in fact paramount to the future.” 

“I think six months is enough time for a proper engagement, don’t you?” 

“Earth-to-Wanda. Are you even listening to me, Love?” 

“Yes. Of course I am.” 

Timothy regarded her skeptically. “And?” 

“You said the plan didn’t work. So what? It may not have worked technically, but the result was what we had hoped for. Donna was not only our first choice, but obviously Benedict’s choice as well. It doesn’t matter how or when they got together – what matters is that they are together!” 

“OH, but it does matter in the end, Wanda. What you have said is all fine and true up to a point. We could not have asked for a better outcome regardless. I’m worried about the future.” 

“Stop being so cryptic, Tim! What are you referring to?” 

“When Benedict finds out about the ad and that Donna answered it.” 

“Oh, please! He’s never going to find out.” 

“Trust me, Wanda, he will. Somehow, this is going to come back to bite us in the arse one day. It could be now or it could be years from now, but he will find out and then all hell will break loose.” 

“Not if we’re careful and cover all our tracks.” 

“ _Your_ tracks.” 

“Don’t be cheeky, Timothy. You’re every bit as guilty as I am. If the ship goes down, we go together.” 

“You’re making too light of this.” 

“No, I’m not. I’m telling you, there is no trail for Barrister Ben to follow. I’ve deleted all the information and correspondence pertaining to the Plan off our PC in Kensington and the laptop in Gloucestershire. All the files have been copied and the CD is tucked away where he can’t get at it in our safety deposit box just in case this doesn’t work out.” 

“Wanda, Pet. Please hear me out. When and if Benedict finds out, we are going to have some serious explaining to do. However, the most important thing is that they found each other without _any_ intervention from _us_. That will be the only thing that may salvage our relationship with him once he’s had a chance to calm down.” 

“That’s right! We had nothing to do with they’re getting together. If he does find out, I’m sure once we tell him our motivations and that the plan didn’t work, he’ll understand and have a good laugh with us.” 

“No, he won’t. He’ll be positively outraged and for good reason. He has repeatedly asked us to not interfere in his love life, yet _we_ – and notice that I am using ‘ _we_ ’ - went full steam ahead without any regard for his feelings whatsoever. Imagine what he’ll think when he discovers his mother went against his wishes and placed a want ad for a wife for him and then went ahead and conducted full scale interviews with these women behind his back, whilst his father practiced covert surveillance in order to eavesdrop. Not to mention we selected the same woman he did to be his prospective mate. What will Ben think when he finds out that the love of his life answered our ad, was interviewed by us and selected to participate in our plan in order to accidentally meet him. Not to mention that day in Hampstead when I took those sneaky photos of him with Denise Black and later on with Donna. He’s not stupid, Wanda. He knew that wasn’t a webcam. He’s just not had enough time to piece it all together, but he will.” 

“Hmmm…I think I do see what you mean,” said Wanda worriedly. “It could be a recipe for disaster.” 

Timothy nodded. “It has the potential to be a major blow up with serious ramifications. The last thing I want is for us to become estranged from our only son.” 

“He’ll disown all of us – Donna included.” 

“Exactly. I strongly suggest that this remain between the three of us.” 

“Agreed. Donna can never say a word to him about this. This secret has to die with all of us.” 

“I think we need to talk to Donna then.” 

“I’ll go fetch her,” said Wanda, getting to her feet and heading towards the restrooms. 

_I vow to do whatever it takes to ensure that Benedict never, ever finds out about The Plan,_ thought Timothy Carlton as he sipped his coffee. _  
_

Wanda saw Donna coming out of the restroom, looking much calmer. She smiled hesitantly at Wanda, who returned the smile as she waited for her at the entrance to the restaurant. 

“You’re just in time. Tim had the cinnamon roll reheated,” said Wanda. “I don’t know about you, but I think all these revelations call for something sweet.” 

“I couldn’t agree with you more,” smiled Donna. “Am I forgiven?” 

“Of course you are. Are we forgiven for the part we played in last night’s folly?” 

Donna nodded. “Of course you are.” 

Wanda gave her a big hug. “Jolly good! Now that the misunderstandings have been sorted, let’s go back in so we can have some of that luscious cinnamon roll while we discuss how we’re going to handle Benedict.” 

Donna looked perplexed.  _Handle Benedict._ _Oh, that sounds ominous. What in the hell do they have in mind and why?  
_

Wanda Ventham walked arm-in-arm back to the table with Donna Saint James. She was feeling very elated with the positive turn of events. _  
_

_We’ll talk to her and then I’ m not going to worry about it any longer. Tim’s wrong. As long as we’re all careful, Benedict will never find out. I have cause to celebrate today:_

_My potential Daughter-in-Law has been found!_

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Here's wishing all my lovely readers a Happy, Healthy and Profitable New Year's! 
> 
> 2\. This was a tough one to write in trying to keep the continuity intact. My apologies for any errors.


	71. Chapter 71

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanda and Timothy enlist a new recruit to preserve the secrecy of the Plan. Donna and Benedict discuss the fine art of compromise during the drive back to London.

  

 

Donna Saint James took her seat at the table and carefully hung her handbag on the back of the chair much to Wanda’s relief. Timothy was preoccupied with cutting the warm gooey cinnamon roll into three equal portions. He took one and offered it to Donna. 

“Thank you, Tim,” she said, as the sweet scent of cinnamon wafted up to her nostrils. 

“You’re welcome,” he smiled almost shyly. 

“Oh, the aroma of cinnamon is just heavenly,” commented Wanda, holding out her plate for a piece. 

“Nothing smells better than cinnamon! It’s an aphrodisiac you know,” said Donna, taking a bite. 

“Is it now?” remarked Wanda, casting a sly look at her husband. “I had no idea.” Her lips were turned up into a coquettish smile. 

“That’s something I wouldn’t mind testing out,” quipped Timothy, casting a meaningful look back at his wife and winking at her. 

_Holy cow! Did I just fan the flames of amour here? I know Benedict always says how affectionate his parents are with each other, but those looks they just gave each other were down right smoldering!_

Wanda took a dainty bite while waiting to see what Timothy was going to say next. 

“Oh, this is to die for!” she exclaimed. “The dough is so soft and light, almost like a brioche, yes?” 

Donna nodded in agreement. “You can taste the butter in the dough. They also use real vanilla beans in the icing – you can tell from those tiny black specks. I also taste a hint of bourbon.” Donna took another bite and paused to savor the icing on her tongue. “Yes. Definitely bourbon. The pastry chef must have soaked the vanilla bean pods in the bourbon first.” 

Wanda nudged Timothy’s foot as he ate some cinnamon roll and washed it down with a swig of coffee. 

_Say something, Timothy! Don’t just sit there and eat the cinnamon roll! Apologize to her.  
_

_Ah, and that’s my cue to have a slice of humble pie and apologize to Donna. We need to put all this behind us and concentrate on ensuring that she keeps her mouth shut about the plan._

“Donna. I want to offer an apology on behalf of my wife and I,” Began Timothy sincerely. “There were plenty of misunderstandings to go around, and Wanda and I had our fair share. We, too, jumped to the wrong conclusions based on what we saw. I hope it is in your heart to forgive our unkind comments from last night, so we can move forward.” 

“We all made a right old meal of it,” added Wanda with a grim smile. “And as I said before, I truly regret my part in it.” 

Donna swallowed a bite of cinnamon roll and nodded vigorously. “Your apologies are accepted, and I am so relieved that we can finally put this all behind us. I swear I will never make assumptions without finding out the whole story first. And to think I had considered mentioning it to Benedict!” She barked out a laugh. “I can only imagine how he would have reacted!” 

Wanda dropped her cinnamon roll onto her plate, and Timothy almost choked on his coffee. The couple exchanged horrified looks. 

_I can, and it would not have been pretty_ , thought Wanda. 

_I can, and it would have begun with: For fucks sake, Donna! Holy hell! She’s not thinking this through,_ thought Timothy. 

“He would have thought we were _all_ crazy!” Donna giggled. 

_He definitely would have thought that,_ thought Wanda. 

_Crazy doesn’t even begin to describe what he would have thought – though he would have come to that conclusion eventually_ , thought Timothy, _once the initial row was over with._ _Liars and schemers would be his first thoughts.  
_

“I can just imagine his face, can’t you?” continued Donna, laughing merrily. 

_There’s no need for me to imagine it. I’ve already seen it. It would be a mask of anger,_ thought Wanda. 

_Fury. I could definitely imagine unbridled fury_ , thought Timothy. _  
_

“If he were here, he’d be laughing right along with us.” 

_Who else at this bloody table is laughing?_ Thought Wanda. _She’s the only one laughing about this. Do I look amused in the slightest? Tim, for one, looks as if he’s about to puke up his blasted cinnamon roll._

_Oh no, he wouldn’t!_ Thought Timothy. _He’d be pacing around the table, ranting at us for doing exactly what he’s always asked us not to do before storming out of the inn_. 

“Well, all I can say is thank heavens you haven’t mentioned anything to him!” exclaimed Wanda finally. 

_Hopefully, she’ll get the hint._

_Jolly good, Pet. Now, allow me to drop yet another hint._

“That would have set the scene for carnage,” chimed in Timothy sternly. _  
_

_Good, she’s stopped with the laughing._

Donna looked puzzled by their reaction, and then seemed to dismiss it as she took another bite of the warm, gooey cinnamon roll and smacked her lips.   

Wanda rolled her eyes at Timothy as she sipped some of her latte. Timothy shrugged and popped the last bite of his roll into his mouth. He chewed, swallowed and patted his lips with the serviette. 

_Well then. That was wasted breath on both of our parts,_ thought Wanda. 

_Let’s try being a bit less subtle now,_ thought Timothy _._

“Lesson learnt for all of us then. Don’t pass judgment without knowing the whole story,” said Timothy with finality. 

Donna kept eating her cinnamon roll and drinking her tea as she listened to Timothy’s words. 

“In light of what’s just taken place, Wanda and I feel it’s best for all concerned that we keep the story of the ad and how we came to meet between us. It’s such a complicated and convoluted story. No one would believe it unless they were actually part of it. Don’t you agree?” 

“I doubt Benedict would even care,” added Wanda with a nervous laugh. 

“That’s where you’re wrong,” said Donna confidently. “I think Benedict would find the whole thing very funny.” 

_Okay. Subtle isn’t working_ , thought Timothy as he rolled his eyes at Wanda. _Let me think of another way to tell her without sounding like a total paranoid wanker, which I am._

Timothy leaned over to give Donna a hug and patted her on the back. “I’m very chuffed that Benedict chose you, Donna. You’re a fine woman and make him very happy.” 

Donna felt her cheeks redden. 

_Hmmm…I bet he’s referring to the blow job texts. Jeez Louise.  
_

_Oh, she thinks I’m making references to Benedict’s text messages. Careful, Timothy, you don’t want to embarrass her. Hmmm…too late from the expression on her face.  
_

“Umm…I was referring to my son’s… text messages, Donna. I only meant that Benedict cares for you greatly…beyond other things…that happened. For fucks sake! Please take what I just said literally,” babbled Timothy. “Don’t try and read into it. Having you in his life makes Benedict very happy; and if he’s happy, Wanda and I are happy. That’s what I meant to say in the first place.” 

_I should have said relieved. Wanda and I are so fucking relieved that he’s finally found someone. Now, he can get on with having that family he’s always pined for._

_He waffles just like Benedict_ , thought a bemused Donna. _Now I know who he takes after._

“Thank you,” said Donna, blushing slightly. “I’m so glad you turned out to be his parents.” 

“He loves you very much,” added Wanda. “He’s told us just how over the moon he is.” 

Donna smiled and clapped her hands together with delight. “And I feel the same way about him. Gosh! I’m just so glad everything has been straightened out!” 

“As are we,” agreed Timothy. _Except that you need to realize that we can’t ever tell Benedict what happened._

“And the best part is that you two no longer have to hide anything from Benedict. We can all safely talk about this out in the open and have a good laugh!” 

_Christ! She’s dense like Benedict, too! She’s really not getting it!_ Thought Timothy with annoyance. _  
_

_Time to do preventative damage control,_ thought Wanda. _I am the Commander of this plan, after all._

Donna watched as Wanda and Timothy’s faces dropped and their demeanors abruptly changed. They both began talking at the same time. 

“No, Donna! We can’t mention the plan or the circumstances under which we met to him! _Ever_!” cried Wanda in a total panic. 

“We can _never, ever_ discuss this with Benedict, Donna - and neither can _you_!” admonished Timothy in a stern voice. “To do so would be to court disaster for us all.” 

“Oh, my God! We can’t ever take the risk of his finding out about the ad.” continued Wanda, fanning herself with her serviette, as she had begun to perspire. 

“Especially _my_ involvement,” said Timothy. 

Wanda frowned at him. “ _Your_ involvement. You’ve been involved up to your eyeballs.” 

“One of us has to remain on good terms with Ben in able to reason with him, should the proverbial shit hit the fan. I can’t do that, if he’s not talking to me.” 

“Why does it have to be _you_?” demanded Wanda, eyebrows raised. 

“Because _you_ are the Commander-in-Chief and mastermind of this plan. The whole thing was _your_ idea. _I_ was only acting in the capacity of _your_ humble foot soldier.” 

“Bollocks! Like hell you were, Timothy Cumberbatch! You came on board knowing full well that there could be repercussions,” hissed Wanda, pushing her sleeves up over her elbows. “You _wanted_ to be part of it.” 

Donna was fascinated with the verbal sparring between Benedict’s parents. 

_Why are they afraid of Benedict? I know he’s got a flash temper at times, but he cools off fairly quickly. Hmmm…well, maybe not that quickly. He is prone to sulking now that I think about it. However, I could never envision him going off the deep end and saying things he would regret – especially to his parents.  
_

“Wanda! Tim! Please don’t argue. Does it really matter in the end who took part in what?” 

Wanda and Timothy paused to stare at Donna as if she were speaking in tongues. They both nodded affirmatively and spoke at the same time. 

“YES!” 

_Okay. These two are tough cookies. They definitely do not fit the sweet senior citizen stereotypes. I can only imagine the Sunday dinners. I need to try and calm them down._

“Worst case scenario: if Benedict were to find out and get angry; I’m sure it would blow over quickly,” said Donna in a reasonable tone. “I can’t see him carrying a grudge – especially when it comes to you two. He loves and respects you both so much. I’m sure I could reason with him and make him see that you meant no harm.” 

“For fucks sake! She thinks she can talk Benedict around once he’s in a mood over something!” Wanda exclaimed to Timothy in exasperation. “What makes you think he won’t release his wrath on you, Dear?” She turned to ask Donna. 

Donna’s pretty face was suddenly a mask of confusion. 

_His wrath? They’re not painting a pretty picture of my honey right now.  
_

Timothy held up a large, slender hand that reminded Donna of Benedict. 

“Donna, _you_ are unfortunately every bit as involved as _we_ are.” 

“How so?” 

“Think about it,” Wanda prompted gently. “Remember our conversation at the Orangery?” 

Donna picked up her teacup and sipped at the barely warm brew. Her conversation with Wanda slowly came back to her: 

 

**"My son's the one who gave me the idea to place an ad in the first place.  One day we were discussing his situation, and he told me to go place an ad in Craigslist."**  
  
 _Hmmm…I remember I was skeptical when she first told me that. I had a feeling something wasn’t Kosher._

  
**"At first, I had no intention of actually placing an ad, but then I thought about how he yearns to be in a loving relationship.  So, I did it. He doesn't know I went through with it. What harm is there in not telling him that I gave fate a little push on his behalf?  You both have so much in common!  If you and he get along and wind up together, what's wrong with that?  You're happy.  He's happy. My husband and I get grandchildren. Your parents get grandchildren.  Everybody's happy.  I see it as helping to bring two very nice people together."**  
  
 _That’s when I should have walked away. In spite of what she said, there obviously was something else that she didn’t want to tell me._

  
**"Then why not tell him what you just told me?"**  
  
 **"Because my son can be very old-fashioned about some things.  He wouldn't see it as helping him."**  
  
 _That was the clue that Wanda did something he forbade her to do behind his back._

  
**"In other words he'd see it as your butting into something that doesn't concern you.  You're afraid he'll be angry if he finds out."**   
  


_I remember she never answered me one way or the other, but apparently I was right all along. This is bad. I should have left when my instincts told me to. Oh, but I was so excited to meet the wonderful son, whom she so glowingly spoke of. How was I to know that I would meet him myself only a short time later?_  
  
 **"Wanda, I should walk away and forget we even had this meeting. This is one of the wackiest schemes I've ever heard.  However, I've spent over two hours in your company, and I find that I like you very much.  I think you'd make a great mother-in-law. I'm impressed with your devotion to your son.  He sounds like someone I would get along with.  I think I do understand why you did what you did.  Your way of going about finding him a mate may be unorthodox; but I'm completely sure you're acting out of love for him.  My instincts are seldom wrong."  
**

_Holy cow! I’m beginning to think my instincts need a fine-tuning. No. They don’t. She really did and still does mean well - Timothy, included. They aren’t acting out of malice; they are acting out of their love for Benedict. I remember thinking that I was really _taking a chance and that a lot of people can get hurt, including me.__  
  
 **"Please give me a call when you've figured out how we're going to meet and email me his photo."**  
  
 **"I promise you won't be sorry!"**  
  
 _I think I just might be now,_ thought Donna. She studied both of them closely. _They really do look freaked out by this. They are so different from my parents. I don’t think Mom and Dad have a panic mode. They are always so calm and composed – no matter what happens.  
_

“I remember our conversation vividly,” began Donna. “Can you maybe tell me all the things you obviously left out – like what the _real_ motivation behind this scheme of yours was.” 

“We’d rather you refer to it as _The Plan_ ,” sniffed Wanda. “It somehow sounds nicer, don’t you agree?” 

“Fine. _The Plan_ ,” Donna said with a shrug. “I’ll call it whatever you like, but I just want you to please answer my question.” 

Timothy smiled sardonically at his wife. “I’ll let you answer that question, Commander.” 

Wanda smiled bitterly. “Everything I told you that day at the Orangery was in fact the truth. I just twisted it a bit and let you come to your own conclusions, which I didn’t confirm or dispute; and that was wrong. I probably should have just told you up front what my true motivations were.” 

Wanda glanced at Timothy, who nodded encouragingly at her to continue. 

“As you now know, Timothy is my second husband and Benedict is our only child together. I have a daughter, Tracy, from my first marriage who has given me two beautiful granddaughters. I adore being a grandparent. It’s one of life’s greatest gifts! I’ve watched those girls grow up into fine young women. Tracy and her husband ensured that Timothy and I were involved from the moment the girls were born. They have given us so much joy over the years.” 

“It’s important that you know I’ve always been made to feel as if Emily and Jennifer were my flesh and blood granddaughters,” interjected Timothy with a fond smile. “Tracy is like a daughter to me. She lived with Wanda and I until she went off to Uni,” explained Timothy. “Then she got married and moved out.” 

“I think I see where this is going,” commented Donna.

_They want Benedict to give them a grandchild before they die._

“I’m sure you do,” smirked Timothy. “Our motives are fairly transparent yes?” 

Wanda sighed. “Simply put: I want Tim to experience the pure joy that comes from having grandchildren of his own. Benedict is our son together. It’s his children I want us to be able to enjoy together. Does that make sense to you, Donna?” 

Donna smiled. “Yes, it does. Even though my parents adore my brother’s children, they can’t wait for Carly and I to have our own families. It’s not quite the same scenario as yours, but a bit similar.” She laughed. 

“I won’t lie and tell you it hasn’t crossed my mind from time to time that it would be nice to see the Cumberbatch bloodlines continue,” said Timothy with a smile. “I find myself dreaming of you and Benedict marrying and having a family. I freely admit that I’m most anxious for things to progress between you two.” 

_This is when I’m not having nightmares about his finding out, but no one needs to know that but my wife._

“And I will freely admit that I’m very jealous of all my friends who have grandchildren to love and spoil,” added Wanda. “I so miss having a baby around,” she sighed deeply. “They bring such happiness to a home, not to mention what they add to the holidays!” 

Donna nodded. “True. So, a grandchild for Tim was the motivator for the ad?” 

Timothy and Wanda looked at each other and shrugged in acquiescence. 

“Sounds about right,” replied Timothy with a sigh. "We're being a bit selfish in the end, I suppose."

“That’s it in a nutshell,” added Wanda. _Is it really such a terrible thing to want for your child - to see them happy and settled down?_

“Tell me why you two are so afraid of Benedict’s reaction. You told me that the Craigslist ad was his suggestion in the first place, and you took him up on it. I don’t understand why he would be angry if you were only doing what he asked you to do.” 

Wanda looked down at the table as dread pooled in the pit of her stomach. Timothy reached out and squeezed her hand reassuringly before speaking. 

“You’re not familiar with Ben’s history or perhaps you are. We have no way of knowing what he has and hasn’t told you about his past romances. He was in a long-term relationship with a woman he met at Uni.” 

“Olivia Poulet,” piped up Donna, feeling a slight twinge of jealousy that caught her off guard. 

_Why do I feel this way? Benedict isn’t in love with Olivia anymore. Maybe it’s the fact that I know he’s still on good terms with her. I’m fucking jealous of her, and I have no reason to be._

“To make a long story short, it was an on again/off again relationship that lasted more than a decade. We automatically assumed they would one day marry and have children. Well, it didn’t work out.” 

_I need to find out what happened_ , thought Donna. _I will someday._

“Since the breakup, he’s had no luck when it came to love – until he met you,” smiled Wanda. “He would date one dumb dolly bird after another. Oh, you should have seen some of the ones he brought home! Not to mention his work schedule becoming so overwhelming that he wasn’t finding the time to get out and meet decent birds.” 

_So far, nothing out of the ordinary; but she still hasn’t really answered my question. There’s got to be more to this story_ , thought Donna _. I have a feeling she’s working her way up to the point._

“Impatient person that I am,” continued Wanda with a self-deprecating smile. “I decided if I didn’t give fate a little push, he was never going to find the right person. Tim and I aren’t exactly what you would call young parents, so that was also a deciding factor.” 

“Frankly, I’m the one who encouraged her to give fate a shove,” chuckled Timothy. “But that was much later on – after the Plan was conceived.” 

Wanda nodded and finished off her cinnamon roll, licking the icing off her fingers.   “And shove we did!” 

“Getting back to your question….” _  
_

_They really do waffle like Benedict. It’s frightening. I need a script to follow them sometimes.  
_

“…in a nutshell my wife took on the role of Matchmaker Supreme. She became determined to find Benedict his perfect life partner, much to his ever-mounting annoyance. Wanda stopped at nothing in her quest to find the ideal prospective daughter-in-law. She asked all her friends and acquaintances if they knew anyone for Ben…even strangers.” 

“Ben’s driver was not a stranger,” disagreed Wanda. “Not to mention we’ve known the butcher for years!” 

“She took to carrying around headshots of Benedict and would show them off while trying to line up dates for him.” 

“Which ones did you use?” interrupted Donna, curiosity peaked. “My personal favorite is the three-quarter facial view where his hair is curling on his forehead.” 

“Oh, yes. That _is_ a nice one. However, the promotional ones they took when they filmed the _Sherlock_ pilot are extraordinary. Legally, I wasn’t supposed to be showing them around, but I did crop Martin Freeman out of them.” 

_Who’s Martin Freeman? Benedict has never mentioned him.  
_

“Who’s Martin Freeman?” inquired Donna nonchalantly. 

“The actor who plays Dr. Watson. He’s most famous for playing Tim in _The Office_.” 

_I haven’t a clue what The Office is. This Martin Freeman must have played Dr. Watson in the pilot,_ _because I know Andrew’s going to be Dr. Watson in the actual show, even though he won’t admit it._

“Anyway, despite the change in hair length and colour; I thought Benedict looked quite handsome as Sherlock Holmes,” Said Wanda with a smile. “He has that dark and dangerous bad boy look.” 

“He resembled me in a wig and not in a good way,” groused Timothy. “His hair was too long and too dark - not to mention how thin he had to be. Aside from that it looks just like him!” 

“He was already too thin for _Third Star_. He had to look like a cancer patient,” pointed out Wanda. “Ben couldn’t shave his head for _Sherlock_ , so he decided to diet so he became reed thin. Fortunately, he’s put back a stone since then.” 

“I understand they’re requiring him to take it off,” added Timothy. “He was complaining about having to diet again.” 

“I’d love to see those photos one day,” said Donna wistfully. “I can’t imagine him with dark hair.” 

“I’ll email them to you once I get back to Yorkshire. I’ve got them on my laptop.” 

“How much longer will you be there?” inquired Donna. 

“We are supposed to wrap my scenes on Tuesday, so I’ll take the train back to London. The rest of them will be there until Friday,” replied Wanda, licking a bit of icing from her finger. 

Donna looked at Wanda over the rim of her teacup. “Wanda, before I forget, there is one thing that’s really bothering me. Why did you email me a photo of Benedict’s best friend?” 

Timothy shrugged. “One of the great mysteries of the world. There was a mix up when I sent the email.” 

“I was looking for a photo to send you and came across one of Benedict with Adam Ackland. Ben was his best man, and he just looked so perfect in that photo. Anyway, I cropped Adam out of it. I had done several that day with the intent of emailing some to Adam’s wife. Something came up and I asked Timothy to attach my first choice to the email I had set up in my drafts to send you.” 

“You attached the wrong photo,” finished Donna. 

“Yes. It would seem that I did. So sorry about that. It only caused more unnecessary confusion I fear,” said Timothy. 

“It sure did!” exclaimed Donna. “That photo caused me to think Adam was the mythical Ben Ventham when I bumped into him at the farmer’s market. Literally, I might add. I was so embarrassed as is. Neither of us was watching where we were going and BAM! The contents of our market baskets wound up on the ground. Then later on when I realized that he was in fact Benedict’s best friend…” Donna shuddered as she let her words hang in the air. “I actually dread the day when Ben introduces me to him.” 

“You haven’t met Adam yet?” asked Wanda incredulously. “May I ask why not? I would have assumed Adam would be one of the first people Benedict would introduce you to yes?” 

_Ha! Boy, did you assume wrong! He’s been keeping me under wraps as if I were a government secret!_

“Benedict was adamant that he wanted to be sure our relationship was going to work before he told _anyone_ about us – you two included –before making introductions. It seems Benedict and Adam keep having scheduling conflicts, which has prevented a meeting so far. I also haven’t been pushing for a get together. Especially, after what happened at the market, I’m not exactly looking forward to coming face-to-face with him.” 

Timothy laughed uproariously. “That was one right mess that day! You should have seen the expression on your faces when you bumped into each other…” 

Alarm bells suddenly went off inside Donna’s head. 

_What the fuck? How does he know? He wasn’t there or was he? He was in Hampstead and the market isn’t that far from the Coffee Cup. No, Donna! You’re jumping to conclusions. Tim would never spy on you._

Wanda began to panic, as she saw the expression on Donna’s face.

_Shut the fuck up, Timothy! Turn on your fucking mouth filter and leave it on!!!_ She took aim and kicked his foot as a signal to shut up. 

“…however, it wasn’t anything compared to the chaos you created at the Tomato Stall. I can still visualize all those tomatoes rolling about on the ground and people stepping on them. It looked like a bloody murder scene – literally! Why Emily and I…OUCH! Wanda, stop kicking me for fuck’s sake!” 

It suddenly dawned on Timothy Carlton that he should not have said that. 

_Oh. My bad. How could I have missed the “Shut the fuck up, Timothy, signal”? I’m getting rusty._

“Emily? That’s your granddaughter. You both were spying on me at the market that day?” asked Donna incredulously. 

_And across from the tube station when you were with Benedict, but I think it best that I keep that tidbit to myself_ , thought Timothy miserably. 

Wanda was fuming inside at her husband. _Well done you, Timothy_. _Time for damage control, Wanda. You can do it. Think quickly.  
_

“You’re going to find this hard to believe, Donna, but the village of Hampstead has a web cam set up to attract tourism. There are cameras in various locations, and they broadcast the photos on a continuous livestream. We just happened to be online and saw you.” 

Donna raised an eyebrow at Wanda. “You’re right. I find that very hard to believe. Tim and Emily were spying on me at the market. I can’t believe you’d do a thing like that! You knew it was supposed to be an accidental meeting and that I would tell you what happened. Of all the blatant nerve!” 

“I have to take credit for the spying idea, Donna,” said Timothy, raising his hands. “I had met Benedict for breakfast that morning in Hampstead.” 

“Yes, I know. You were at the Coffee Cup. I was sitting inside and saw you at one of the outdoor tables right outside the door. You were reading the paper, and I walked right past you.” 

It was Timothy’s turn to look surprised. “Well, now. How cheeky was that? Why didn’t you say hello? It would seem I’m not the only one guilty of spying that day.” 

“At the time, I didn’t recognize you behind your newspaper. I happen to hear you yelling at Wanda on the phone – that was when I realized it was you.” 

“You still could have come over to me.” 

“Oh no I couldn’t! Benedict joined you just after I recognized you. How could I take a chance that he would find out that I was there to accidentally meet another man?” 

Timothy looked at Donna with narrowed eyes. “He was sat facing you. He had to have seen you when he went to use the loo.” 

Donna nodded. “He sure did. He saw me before that. That’s why he came after me. I tried to hide in the restroom, but he was waiting for me when I came out. He wanted to know what I was doing there, so I told him I was going to check out the market – which wasn’t a total lie. It just wasn’t the whole truth.” 

“That sounds like our Ben, bless him,” laughed Wanda. “He’s like a bloodhound once he gets the scent.” 

“It’s not funny, Pet. We all have a lot to lose here,” snapped Timothy. 

“Why did you follow me?” persisted Donna. 

“My curiosity got the best of me,” explained Timothy. “I hadn’t originally intended to, but I was every bit as anxious as Wanda to find out if our Plan was going to work. So, I took the bus to the market and ran into my granddaughter while I was there. She has no idea who you are or that I was watching you. I’m truly sorry, Donna.”

“I guess I would have done the same thing,” mused Donna. “Now, can we please get back to my question. You were telling me about Wanda’s career as a matchmaker,” she teased. 

Timothy cleared his throat. “Well, when word got back to Benedict of Wanda’s enthusiastic search, he…. became a bit…. agitated by her actions.” 

_Holy cow! Now, I get why he would be pissed off at her._

“My husband’s being genteel. Benedict hit the fucking ceiling,” clarified Wanda. “You would have thought I had murdered someone for fucks sake! To say he wasn’t understanding, was to put it very mildly.” 

“He forbade Wanda to meddle in his affairs. He found it humiliating and embarrassing that she had taken it upon herself to find him a wife without even so much as consulting him.” 

_Well, of course he would! Who wouldn’t? Poor Benedict._

“Some of those girls were very nice,” pointed out Wanda in a defensive tone. “However, he wasn’t interested and made it known to me. He said he needed to find a proper mate on his own terms.” 

“Which he apparently did,” smirked Donna with satisfaction. “He didn’t need any help in the end.” 

“No, he didn’t. You’re right,” admitted Wanda. “Unfortunately, as time marched on, I found I couldn’t help myself and kept up with the search. It was the cause of many a row between us.” 

“There was constant stress and friction whenever we were together,” lamented Timothy. “You could cut the tension with a knife. He was becoming weary of the ‘poor Ben can’t find a bird’ routine. It was grating on his nerves terribly.” 

“We argued like cats and dogs,” quipped Wanda. “Poor Tim always had to resort to being the referee.” 

_After hearing this, I can’t fault Benedict for letting his temper get the best of him. I’d feel the same way._

“One day, during one of these rows, he became so stropy….” 

“Disgusted. He was definitely disgusted,” interjected Timothy. “He was beyond stropy by that point.” 

Wanda glared at him. “Alright. Disgusted then. He was so disgusted with me that he threw his hands up in the air and bellowed: “For fuck’s sake, Mum, why don’t you just put an ad in Craigslist for a bird for me?! So I did.” 

_Oh. I see what happened,_ thought Donna _. She took him at his word. He never actually asked her to place an ad. He was venting his frustration and made a wiseass remark in the heat of the moment. He didn’t mean it at all. She took it upon herself to just go ahead with the ad and used that comment in order to justify her actions. Oh, this is bad. The consequences are scary.  
_

“Yikes, Wanda! Talk about taking someone at their word literally. That was really taking a chance,” commented Donna. “No wonder you’re wary of his finding out.” Donna looked pointedly at Timothy. “How did you get involved?” 

Timothy finished his juice. “I found out quite by accident. I came home unexpectedly from work one evening and caught her in the middle of reviewing candidates’ resumes. At first, I was outraged by her actions.” 

Wanda nodded. “That’s where Benedict gets his temper from,” she said as an aside. 

Timothy ignored her. “Then I recalled a conversation I had just had with Benedict over lunch about his love life. We were talking about his having a difficult time finding someone. He was saying how much he envied that Wanda and I had such a good marriage, which we do,” Timothy smiled at Wanda. “Anyway, he said and I quote: ‘I'm so jealous - I want to find someone who makes me feel the way you feel about Mum.  I only hope to have a marriage half as strong as yours is.  I want it so bad some days I can taste it, and today is one of those days.  I really do know my luck's bound to change, it's just taking so damn long. You know I'm not very patient.” 

_Ah ha! Now I get why he joined the plan. Benedict inadvertently tugged his heart strings.  
_

“That’s when he came over to the Dark Side,” laughed Wanda. 

Timothy nodded. “True. It broke my heart to listen to him that day.” 

“That was right after he got rid of that nasty bird who liked to bite.” 

_What the fuck?_ Thought Donna. _I’d love to hear about that one!  
_

“Most importantly, and the reason we’re telling you all this, is because if Benedict were to find out you answered my ad, he’d go ballistic,” said Wanda. 

“Especially if he also finds out you came to the interview and agreed to go along with the accidental meeting while you were dating him,” said Timothy. “Benedict wouldn’t care how or when or why you did it. It would be the fact that you did it. Period.” 

“Benedict and I didn’t actually enter into a formal committed relationship until the night of the _Cabin Pressure_ recording. Up until that moment he still considered me in the open dating pool even though we had discussed it, and I had assured him that he was the only man for me. He kept insisting that I had to be one hundred percent sure that I wanted to be with him rather than James.” 

Wanda sighed. “Our son can be very narrow-minded at times, and would only see that you were in cahoots with us. Therefore, you wouldn’t be trusted either.” 

“Shit!” said Donna. “That’s guilt by association. I never thought of it like that.” 

_No. No one thinks or they think too damn much_ , thought Timothy. 

“This is why we can’t say anything to him ever about this,” warned Timothy. “The Plan must remain our secret until the day we die.” 

“Tim and I want to see your relationship with Benedict continue to flourish and lead to marriage. He is very much in love with you, Donna,” remarked Wanda. “And knowing my son as I do, I’d venture to say that he definitely has marriage on his mind.” 

“We’ve already discussed having a future together,” said Donna quietly. “I love Benedict and want to be his wife one day.”

 “Well then it is paramount that you never say a word about the Plan and what we discussed here today,” emphasized Timothy. “Not only is it in _your_ best interest, but in _ours_ as well.” 

Donna listened and reluctantly nodded her silent agreement. 

“Good then,” smiled Wanda Ventham. “I think another cinnamon roll is in order.” 

 

 

 

Benedict Cumberbatch guided his Mitsubishi Colt onto the Motorway in the direction of London. Donna was sleeping peacefully in the passenger seat beside him. She had dozed off not long after they left the Blackberry Bramble Inn. Benedict was very satisfied with the way the filming had gone and was happy to be going home. He was even happier with the way things were going for him personally. 

_That was the best birthday ever. Donna is the most caring of all the women I’ve been in a relationship with. I love how creative and thought full she is. She pays such attention to detail. Last night was perfect – she thought of everything. Candles, champagne, cake, War Horse tickets. Not to mention all those brilliant little surprises – the sweets, the socks, the breakfast. She’s going to make a wonderful mother one day.  Ah and the oral sex was mind-blowing...hahaha, good pun, Benedict. I just feel awful that she got her period when she did. Maybe she will let me use my hands to pleasure her once we get back to London. I’m not ad versed to doing that for her. Besides I did read somewhere that having an orgasm eases cramping.  
_

Benedict stole a glance at Donna. She shifted slightly in her seat and smiled in her sleep. _  
_

_She must be dreaming. I wonder if she’s dreaming about us? It's an amazing thing that I finally found somebody to love, yet somebody who loves me back in the same way and to the same degree. Considering how busy we are, it's a minor miracle that we met each other at all in the way we did. Bless Jamie and his restaurant. If we get married, he should definitely cater our wedding or perhaps Donna would be open to having the reception there when the time comes. I feel as if Jamie’s the one responsible for bringing us together.  There I go getting ahead of myself again...I wish I control my broodiness better, but Donna's love has only intensified those feelings._

A slight moan escaped Donna's lips as she moved around again.  It appeared she was trying to get comfortable.

_I’m also proud of my darling that she kept her promise to me and didn’t leave the room to have a wander around the inn._

Upon arriving back at the inn, Benedict found that his parents had already checked out and left. Wanda and Joss Ackland were on their way back to Yorkshire, while Timothy was already on the road back to London. As promised, Benedict had found Donna waiting for him up in the room, reading one of his books. She had also packed up all his things, so all he had to do was load the car. 

_I hope I can find my stuff. Lord only knows where she put everything. I realize she meant well, but damn she needs to let me take care of my own packing.  
_

Benedict had passed most of the trip listening to a local rock station on the radio. As he got closer to London, he decided to check on the traffic and switched to a news station which gave reliable traffic reports right after the top of the hour. 

Donna Saint James woke up to the world news being announced. She was surprised that she had fallen asleep during the car ride back to London.   

“Where are we?” she asked groggily as she leaned forward and turned down the volume on the radio. 

“Ah, you’re awake!” said Benedict as he changed lanes. “We’re about an hour from London,” He replied, turning the volume back up. “I need to listen to the traffic report so I know whether or not we have to change our route.” 

Donna squinted at the dashboard clock. “Wow. That means I slept almost two hours.” 

Benedict laughed. “I don’t know whether I should be insulted that you fell asleep during our conversation or not. I always knew I had the tendency to be long-winded, but I had no idea I was _that_ boring.” 

“I don’t find you boring in the slightest,” Donna yawned as she adjusted the volume on the car radio again. She jumped when Benedict sighed heavily and abruptly re-adjusted the volume to his liking. 

“If I miss the damn traffic report; and we wind up sitting in traffic, you will only have yourself to blame. Now, please let it be!” he scolded her. 

“Sorry. I guess I didn’t get as much sleep as I thought last night.” 

“I don’t see why not. You had the whole bloody bed to yourself,” he smirked, glancing at her sideways. 

“I’m sorry for taking up the whole bed.” 

Benedict snorted. “No you’re not. You were totally oblivious as to whether I was comfortable or not. You were sprawled face down on your stomach, sleeping ever-so-peacefully in the middle of the bed.” 

“Why didn’t you wake me? I would have moved over.” 

Benedict sighed and changed lanes again. “Because I knew you had cramps and didn’t want to disturb you.” He sounded the horn. “You right bastard!” He snarled.

“Excuse me?” 

“Not you, Love. The prick in the white Mercedes, who can’t decide which lane to drive in!” 

_Gosh, I wonder how many close calls I managed to miss while napping.  
_

“No one has double beds anymore,” Donna stated crossly.

_Wait until she stays over at Gloucestershire. I’ve got a fucking twin bed there. At least I had a double bed in Kensington, so we’ll have an easier time should we ever have to sleep over there._

“Maybe where you come from, but they’re still quite common here. It’s a damn good thing we both have king-sized beds in our flats.” 

“Speaking of king-sized beds,” began Donna. “I have some exciting news about our romantic getaway that I think you’ll approve of.” 

“I’m all ears,” Said Benedict, checking the rear view mirror. 

“My editor is sending me on an all-expense paid….” 

“I wish the wanker in the Mini-Cooper behind me would stop fucking tail-gating me. If he comes any closer, he’s going to be in my bloody boot.” 

“Why don’t you just move out of his way?” 

“I’m going the speed limit.” 

“If you change lanes, he can pass you.” 

“Why should _I_ change lanes? _He_ can overtake _me_ if he’s not happy with my speed.” 

_Oh, Jesus Christ! I wish I had stayed asleep. I hate driving with him sometimes.  
_

“If you get out of his way, you won’t be aggravated,” suggested Donna gently. 

“I’m not aggravated,” snapped Benedict. _  
_

_Oh, yes you are. It's written all over your handsome face._

Donna studied his face. His lips were pressed tightly together and his face looked pinched.   

“Then why do you look as if you’ve been sucking on a lemon?” 

“Fuck him!" bellowed Benedict. "He just flashed his lights at me.” 

“He wants you to move over.” 

“I know that!” 

_Good. At least he knows what that means.  
_

Benedict looked in the rear view mirror again, but stubbornly remained in the lane. _  
_

_Why isn’t he moving over?_

“And?”

“I thought you were going to tell me about our romantic getaway.” 

“I was until you decided to piss off the guy behind us.” 

“I didn’t piss….” 

Suddenly, the Mini-Cooper swung out around them. The driver flipped Benedict the bird as he over took them, shaking his head in anger. 

“Mother fucker!” yelled Benedict returning the gesture. 

“I really admire how well you manage to channel your road rage,” snickered Donna. 

“OH, how I don’t love your cheeky side, _Sweetheart_!” 

_Oh, oh…that was the sarcastic Sweetheart.  
_

“I must remember never to tail gate you.” _  
_

“A bit of a speed demon are you? Come to think of it, I’ve never driven with you as a passenger before,” mused Benedict. 

“That’s because I’m afraid to drive on the wrong side of the road.” 

Benedict laughed. “You Americans drive on the wrong side of the road.” 

“I’m just getting used to sitting in what’s supposed to be the driver’s seat!” 

“I’m happy to lend you my car whenever you fancy. I'll make you a duplicate set of keys.” 

“I appreciate your generosity, Benedict; but you forget that I can’t use a manual transmission. Automatic is the default transmission in the US.” 

“Not a problem. I’ll teach you. You’ll pick it up in no time. Sometimes having a car comes in handy.” 

“So, I _was_ starting to tell you about our romantic weekend before your road rage episode.” 

“That wasn’t road rage. I was just a bit stropy from lack of sleep,” he said sullenly.

_Not only was that road rage, but it was also him wanting to have the last word. I’ll just let him have it. I really do feel awful about his not getting a good night’s sleep. Yet he thought nothing of making the room warmer and turning off the night light without so much as asking me if it were alright.  
_

“We need to learn to compromise, Benedict.” 

Benedict looked startled by her words. “I really don’t think there was any compromising with that son of a bitch, Donna. He wanted me to move, and I wasn’t about to. Well, yeah, I guess he did compromise in the end by over taking me.” 

_Oh, Ben, you missed the point.  You were the one who was supposed to move out of the passing lane._

Donna rolled her eyes. “That’s not what I was referring to. I’m talking about our sharing a bedroom. Last night was a disaster for you, but…” 

“The remedy is quite simple. We’ll always make sure to book a room with a king-sized bed whenever we travel together. You and I already have king beds in our flats. There! Everything’s been sorted out.” He crinkled his nose and smiled at her. “Sweet dreams guaranteed for us both.” 

_That was easy. Just sleeping over at my parents’ homes is going to be a problem, but we’ll deal with that when the time comes._

_No, Benedict. Everything has not been sorted out.  
_

“Not quite, Honey.” 

_She called me Honey. Not Ben Honey. Just Honey is the snarky honey. Ben Honey is her special lovey nickname for me, which makes me weak in the knees. She’s pissed off at me.  
_

_Be diplomatic, Donna. Don’t accuse. Use “we” to imply that it’s our problem.  
_

“We need to find a happy medium in regards to how warm or cool we keep the room during the night.” 

“You keep it like a bloody meat locker!” exclaimed Benedict. “My nose and feet were freezing last night! Why don’t you wear summer-weight sleepwear?” 

“I already do. I wear it year-round. Perhaps you could try wearing winter-weight sleepwear?” 

“I suppose I could. I do have sleep socks that I wear in the winter.” 

“I could try sleeping in a warmer room if I just leave off the blanket.” 

Benedict nodded. “I could fold the blanket in half so I’m warm and that way you can keep the air con lower.” 

_There. That really wasn’t so bad. I just proved to her that I’m capable of compromising. Well done me!_

“Um…there’s something else that’s bothering me. You turned off the nightlight while I was sleeping. I woke up in a pitch dark room.”

_Shit. There she goes with that damn night light, bless her._

“The light was shining in my eyes, Donna. I couldn’t sleep.” 

“What if I had to get up to use the bathroom? I would have had to try walking around in the dark and risk falling or bumping into something or I guess I could have just turned on the bedside lamp.” 

“That would have woken me for sure.” 

“Have you considered sleeping on your side when you first get in bed, facing away from the light so it isn’t in your eyes?” 

“Nope.” 

“Have you considered partially closing the door to the loo so the light isn’t quite as bright?” 

“No.” 

Both Donna and Benedict fell silent for a good minute or two, while they mulled over each other’s comments. 

_She's not entirely wrong._  

_I could try getting by with just enough light in the room to see where things are._

“Next time, I’ll close the bathroom door so just enough light comes through in order to see,” said Donna finally. 

“And I’ll take your suggestion of sleeping on my side. Once I’m asleep, a little bit of light isn’t going to bother me.” 

Benedict listened to the traffic report and switched off the radio. 

“No traffic for a change. Excellent!” 

They drove in silence for several minutes. 

_That wasn’t so bad_ , thought Benedict. 

“You did make some valid points, Donna.” 

“As did you.” 

_He was definitely right about my keeping the room too cold.  
_

_She was right about the night light. What is she were pregnant and fell because she couldn’t see in the darkness? It’s no longer about my wants and desires any more. We’re a couple now.  
_

_I can’t be selfish about silly things like sleeping arrangements. I’m half of a couple now. I need to be attuned to his comfort as well as my own._

“I do believe we have just successfully compromised, Mr. Cumberbatch.” 

“I believe we have, Miss Saint James.” 

Donna stole a peek in the side view mirror as a Jaguar behind them flashed their lights for Benedict to move over. 

“And now I’ll further compromise,” smirked Benedict, as he changed lanes in order to enable the Jag to have the lane. “Proud of me?” 

“Yes, Ben Honey,” replied Donna Saint James with a satisfied smile. “I’m very proud.” 

Benedict shifted gears and then reached out to give Donna’s hand a quick squeeze before returning it to the steering wheel. 

_Ah, I’m Ben Honey again. How very, very nice that sounds._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Benedict’s thought: “It's an amazing thing that I finally found somebody to love, yet somebody who loves me back in the same way and to the same degree. Considering how busy we are, it's a minor miracle that we met each other at all in the way we did.” Was edited to fit my story. Benedict said something very similar to this in an interview regarding Sophie Hunter. 
> 
> 2\. I wanted to show that not everything is sunshine, lollypops and rainbows between Donna and Benedict all the time. I want to portray their faults as well as their good points and to depict that they need to work on their growing relationship. 
> 
> 3\. If there are any inconsistencies, please forgive me. I feel at this point, it is imperative to review some of the past dialog from older chapters in order to keep the reason within the reveal clear….especially since I might forget something important! LOL!
> 
> 4\. I don’t know for certain if Emily is an only child or not, but I gave her a sister in an earlier chapter and will be keeping it that way. I have a feeling in real life, she's an only child. 
> 
> Congratulations to Benedict on his impending fatherhood! His fondest dream is coming true!


	72. Chapter 72

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Benedict and Donna continue their serious discussion on the trip back to London. Andrew drops in and stays for dinner. Donna has second and third thoughts about introducing Benedict to her parents.

 

Donna Saint James opened the container, which once held hot Earl Grey tea and took a sip. The tea was ice cold.

“That must be cold by now,” remarked Benedict as he took the exit ramp off the Motorway.   “We can stop off and get you a hot one while we take an alternate route into London. I can’t bear sitting in this fucking traffic any longer.”

“The tea actually isn’t bad cold. Did the radio ever say what caused the traffic jam?”

“You were reading your book and missed it. There’s an accident roughly sixteen kilometers ahead. There’s a back way that should allow us to bypass the accident. It’s actually a shortcut that will save us a good deal of time.”

_If I were only sure about which direction it’s in. I’m fairly certain I make a left here._

_Hmmmm…sixteen kilometers. I really should have paid better attention when Mrs. Bailey was teaching the Metric System. Who would have thought I was going to wind up living in a place that actually uses it. I would venture to guess it’s about a ten-mile backup. Ugh!_

Donna held out the cup to Benedict. “Would you like some of my tea?”

“Thank you. No. I just finished my large coffee. However, you could give me a bite of that cinnamon roll you’ve got stashed away in your handbag.”

“What cinnamon roll?” Donna asked innocently.

“You can’t fool me. I could smell it the minute you got into the car.”

“Ah, I keep forgetting about your keen sense of smell,” said Donna opening her bag and removing the plastic container that held two freshly baked rolls. “I can’t hide anything from you.”

“That handbag of yours is akin to a bottomless pit,” teased Benedict.

“I was saving them to have once we got back to my place. I was going to make tea,” said Donna.

_Oh no, you don’t. No more of that hot water for me, Love. We’re together now, so it’s paramount that you learn how to make a proper cup of tea.  
_

“How about if I make the tea while you unpack?” offered Benedict, crinkling his nose at her.

_Oh, that’s right. He hates my tea. The hot milky water as he so unlovingly refers to it._

“How about you demonstrate the right way to make it? I can always unpack.”

_Now, that’s a real shocker. I would have envisioned her to immediately unpack and start on the laundry. She fooled me this time._

_It’s going to kill me not to delve into the dirty laundry, but I need to learn how to make him tea.  
_

Benedict’s stomach growled loudly, causing him to cringe outwardly.

“The smell is making me salivate. Like Pavlov’s dog. Woof!”

“I was also saving them in case we had a snack attack on the road,” she chortled.

Benedict turned the corner and shifted gears. Donna heard his stomach growl again.

“Erm… I would definitely classify this as a full-fledged snack attack. Those rolls are to die for…”

 _Hmmm…that’s exactly what your mother said this morning_ , thought Donna with amusement. _It is funny to hear them use the same expressions. I’m sure Carly, Kenny and I do the same with Mom and Dad.  
_

“…and the smell is driving me to distraction. I’ve tasted them, so I know just how delectable they are. Divvy up those rolls, before I faint from hunger! I’m beyond peckish at this point – I’m famished.” _  
_

Donna took her time carefully tearing one of the rolls into bite-sized pieces as Benedict kept stealing glances to see what was taking her so long.

 _Look at how painstakingly even she’s divided that fucking roll. Christ almighty! Just rip them into a couple of pieces and feed me already,_ thought Benedict impatiently.

“Here you go!” said Donna as she finally popped a piece into Benedict’s waiting mouth as they came to a stop at a traffic signal.

“Scrumptious!” he said, smacking his lips. “That really hits the spot.”

“They are even better warmed,” said Donna. “How much longer until we get to London?”

“I’d wager another forty-five minutes being we had to take a detour. Why don’t you go back to your book or take a nap?”

_I wish to hell some of these landmarks were starting to look familiar. I don’t think I’ve ever been this way before._

“I’m not sleepy. Hey! Don’t you want to hear about our romantic holiday or have you lost interest?”

“That’s right! You were starting to tell me about it when we got sidetracked. I love talking about anything that has to do with sex. Go on then.” Prodded Benedict as he changed lanes.

“Who said anything about sex? It has to do with food! Lots of delicious, lip-smacking food!”

“Erm…the whole purpose of going away was to…consummate our love properly, yes?” asked Benedict, glancing at her sideways with a slight frown.

“And consummate it we shall, Benedict. That still is the primary goal,” smiled Donna. “However, here’s the _really_ exciting part.”

“I thought our finally having sex _was_ the really exciting part. Silly me,” quipped Benedict as he changed lanes once again. “What was I thinking?”

_He does love to weave in and out of traffic, bless his little heart. I really wish I had a brake and steering wheel on my side, too, like Mr. Nelson had in Drivers Ed._

“My editor is sending me to Cornwall in two weeks. They are having a week-long ‘Gastro Holiday Package’ at a hotel called the Nare. Have you heard of it?”

“Yeah, I have. I’ve never been there; but I do know it’s in St. Ives, right on the bay. It has a stellar reputation for first class accommodations and award-winning gourmet food. Tell me more!” He said excitedly.

“I did some research online. The resort is absolutely gorgeous, Ben! I booked us a room in a secluded location with a king-sized bed and a large soaking tub for two. The room has a view of the bay and its own private terrace.”

“It does sound very romantic,” remarked Benedict. “The king-sized bed is paramount when sleeping with you.”

Donna ignored him and continued with her sales pitch.

“There’s plenty to do. We can walk to the village of St. Ives. We can go sailing and surfing and have a romantic picnic on the beach.”

“What about sex? I don’t want to be too knackered for that.”

“You won’t be, I promise. Love making is our top priority. I was just looking for things to do in case we get bored…I mean we can’t spend _every_ waking moment in bed.”

Benedict stopped at another traffic light and fixed her with a look.

_Oh, Donna. That was the wrong thing to say. He obviously can and intends to spend the whole time in bed.  
_

_A lot she doesn’t know about me. Yes, I can spend every waking moment in bed – especially since I haven’t had sex in such a long time. I’ll make an exception for meals and using the loo._

“Sex has never, _ever_ bored me – not even in the _slightest_.”

_That’s because he was never with Roy. Now, that was boring sex.  
_

“That’s because you never slept with Roy Takahashi,” Donna smirked.

Benedict blinked. “I honestly can’t say that I have. Who is Roy Takahashi?”

“My former fiancé. He’s a lawyer, who works in my mother’s law firm, which is how we met. She was grooming him to be her protégé.”

“I didn’t know you were engaged once,” commented Benedict. “What happened?”

“Roy is completely career-driven, a textbook workaholic with no time for fun. Work, work, work is all that matters to him. He lives, eats and sleeps the law.”

_Olivia used to say that about me. That’s part of why she left me._

“At first, I thought he was so clever and interesting, and then I realized just how boring he was – in and out of the sack. He only wanted me for a Trophy Wife along with the guaranteed partnership in my mother’s law firm that came with it. After six months of his crap, I called off the engagement and gave him back his ring.”

“Were your parents upset when you broke it off?” inquired Benedict casually.

Donna laughed bitterly. “They practically went into mourning. They _really_ loved Roy. Not to mention his parents own one of the most expensive and popular sushi restaurants in New York City. I’m sure you’ve heard of it: Takahaski. It was going to be like a merging of dynasties.”

Benedict nodded with mock understanding. “I probably should say something like ‘I’m sooooo sorry it didn’t work out’, but I’m not. His loss was my gain.”

“You’ll get no argument from me,” laughed Donna.

“You mentioned surfing. Do you actually know how to surf?” Benedict asked skeptically.

“Yes. My parents gave us lessons when we vacationed in Hawaii.”

_And they were deeply discounted lessons if I recall because somehow the instructor almost ruined the vacation experience for Mom - and us._

“Brilliant! We’ll definitely have to rent some boards then. Now, tell me about the gastro part.”

“Not only do we get free accommodations, but all our meals are also taken care of – courtesy of the Tribune. The hotel chefs are putting together special gourmet dinners each night for the entire week, showcasing locally-sourced foods.”

“Count me in. That sounds brilliant.”

“I thought you were only interested in getting laid,” said Donna with a sly smile.

Benedict smirked. “I won’t lie. I’m interested in the food, too.”

Donna’s text chime went off.

_Who could that be?  
_

It was Wanda Ventham.

**How’s it going? W  
**

**We’re on our way back to London. There was traffic on the Motorway, so we had to take a shortcut. D**

“Who’s texting you?” asked Benedict, craning his neck in an effort to see her screen.

"Don't you need to keep your eyes on the road?" asked Donna as the car drifted into the neighboring lane slightly, causing a horn to blare. **  
**

**_Shit. I certainly can’t tell him it’s his mother._  
**

“Carly. She wants to know if we had a good time at the Blackberry Bramble.” **  
**

“You can tell her that _I_ had a fucking _marvelous_ time!” snickered Benedict, as he winked at Donna. **  
**

**There is no shortcut from that road. He’s lost and doesn’t want to stop and ask for directions. W  
**

**He doesn’t act like he’s lost. D  
**

**My son is an actor after all, and a decent one at that. LOL   W  
**

**Trust me. He’s lost. Tim is the same way, bless him. W  
**

_Oh, that’s not good,_ thought Donna. _We could be driving in circles. Danny used to do that whenever he got lost._

She looked at Benedict. He seemed to be concentrating on his driving. **  
**

**Make sure he’s headed southwest. W**

Donna craned her neck to look at the dashboard. She couldn’t locate the compass.

“I’m going the speed limit. There’s no need to check,” said Benedict with a trace of irritation in his voice.

_What happened to your Girl Scout knowledge, Donna? Look at the sun! Mrs. Ferrara always said you can tell your direction by the position of the sun!  
_

“I was just curious as to the direction we’re going in,” commented Donna as she looked out the window. “Never mind. I can tell by the position of the sun.”

Benedict pressed a button on the dashboard. “It says we’re going southeast.” He immediately frowned and rubbed the back of his neck.

_Fuckity fuck fuck. London is to the west. I’m going in the wrong bloody direction!  
_

**He’s going southeast. D  
**

**You’d better tell him to turn around before you wind up in Kent. W  
**

“Isn’t London to the west, Ben?”

Benedict set his lips into a thin line. “Yes,” he growled.

“What does….”

“And before you say _anything_ , I _am_ going in the right direction. London is south.”

“But not east.” _  
_

“And what does the sun say?”

“That you’re lost.”

“That’s bollocks. It’s part of the detour,” said Benedict flippantly. “They don’t always send you in the exact direction at first. They like to loop you around a bit before getting back on track.”

_Bullshit, Benedict! There was no official detour. This is the Benedict Cumberbatch Detour, and it’s taking us further and further away from London. He hasn’t a clue where he is. I can see it clearly written on his face. Dad gets that same look whenever he gets lost._

**He’s blaming it on the detour, which is a figment of his imagination. He made up his own and doesn’t have a clue where we are. He said ‘they’ looped us around. D  
**

**He’s loopy alright. Just tell him to turn around. That’s how I have to handle Timothy in these situations. W  
**

_I’ll do it in my own way, Wanda._

“I’ve always wanted to visit Kent. I don’t mind a little detour,” giggled Donna. “Is there much to do there?”

“Piss off, Donna!” snapped Benedict as he finally pulled the car onto the road's shoulder. “Can you please open the glove box? I need to look at a map and see just where in the hell we are.”

**He wants to look at a map. D  
**

**Jolly good! That’s the first step to admitting he’s lost. There’s hope for him yet. W  
**

“Sure,” said Donna as she opened the latch and surveyed the contents. “I see a flashlight and a tire pressure gauge…and a pen…sunglasses…an owner’s manual...a pack of chewing gum…but not one map.”

Benedict rolled his eyes. “How can that be? I’ve got at least three maps in there!”

“I don’t know, but I assure you that there are no maps in here.”

**There aren’t any in his glove compartment. D  
**

**Not a total surprise. I’m sure he swears there were at least two. W  
**

**He was convinced there were three. D  
**

**Tell him to sod off and go to a petrol station to ask for directions. W  
**

Benedict unbuckled his seat belt and rose up in order to lean across Donna to look in the glove box. He began to rummage around. **  
**

 _Oh, too funny. He doesn’t believe me!_ **  
**

Donna playfully patted Benedict’s bottom as he kept rifling through the contents of the glove box while muttering curses under his breath. **  
**

“Stop that!’ he snapped, batting her hand away.

“I’m sorry, but what am I supposed to do when you practically stick your sexy ass in my face?”

Benedict settled back in his seat and buckled his seat belt. “I could have sworn I had maps in there.”

“You swore wrong,” giggled Donna. “Don’t you have a GPS?”

Benedict shook his head. “Not in this car,” he scoffed. “It’s too old.”

“They make portable ones.”

**He doesn’t even have a GPS. D  
**

**That rattle-trap is too old to have one. He’ll also tell you he doesn’t need a GPS because he has a fine sense of direction, which only rivals his fine sense of smell. W  
**

_Oh my God! Is she funny or what?_ **  
**

“I really don’t have need of one. I have an excellent sense of direction.”

“To match your excellent sense of smell.”

“You really are a very cheeky girl.”

Donna began to laugh. “I’m sorry, but I find it very funny how you just won’t stop to ask for directions. What harm is there in that?” _  
_

_Plenty. I don’t want to look like the clueless dolt that I am.  
_

**He’s getting annoyed with me because I laughed at him. I’ll call you tomorrow. D  
**

**Good luck, Love. Again, thank you for settling the bill at breakfast. W  
**

“For fucks sake! What in the hell are you texting her? Are you telling her how I’m lost with no fucking idea of where I am?”

“Are you finally admitting it?”

“There’s nothing to admit, because I’m not lost!”

_Of course you are, you fucking dolt; and she knows. Time to give up.  
_

“Alright! I’m lost. Now, let me see…”

Benedict tried to grab the phone from Donna in order to read her texts.

“Oh no you don’t!” Donna pulled back and quickly deleted the string of messages. “My text messages are none of your business. However, I am very proud that you’re man enough to admit that you’re hopelessly lost.”

“I don’t recall saying I was _hopelessly_ lost,” he sulked.

_Shut up, Benedict, and look for a bloody petrol station. She just paid you a compliment – snarky though it was._

They rode in silence for a few minutes until they came across a petrol station. Benedict soon returned with directions and two cups of hot English breakfast tea. He then removed a small, slim leather book from his hip pocket and set it on the back seat.

“Thank you,” said Donna accepting the cup and taking a long swallow.

_Even the gas stations make better tea than I do.  
_

_The bloody petrol stations make better tea than she does,_ thought Benedict as he drank some tea. _  
_

As they made their way back to the Motorway, Benedict turned the conversation back to their holiday.

“I checked my diary while I was in the petrol station, and I’m free to go to Cornwall. I’m looking forward to just relaxing and spending time together,” he said.

“I’m all for that. You’ve been working constantly since the day we met.” _  
_

_I know; and now that I’m in a serious relationship, I must find a way to make time for her. I can’t risk cocking this one up. She’s my life partner.  
_

“I’m honestly overwhelmed to be offered all these exciting and interesting roles. It’s an embarrassment of riches. Most actors are unemployed, yet I’ve been fortunate enough to keep getting work.”

_He is lucky to be getting all this work. Michael and Jonathan would have killed to be in Benedict’s position. However, my honey also has to find a way to balance the work with some play time. We’re a couple, and we need to have couple time. I love him more than anything, and I’ll find a way to make this work._

“With all that said, as much as I love my work, even I recognize that I’m long overdue for a holiday.”

“Don’t worry. I will take it upon myself to make sure you are well-fed, well-rested and well-loved,” said Donna with a huge grin.

_Ah, it’s the well-loved part I most look forward to. You should bring up the subject of birth control, Benedict. The last thing you want is to have it come up in the heat of the moment. It needs to be sorted now._

“There’s something else we need to sort out before we go on holiday, Donna. I’ve been trying to think how to delicately phrase this, but I’m suddenly at a loss for words.”

“That’s hard to believe!” she giggled.

“Sod off!” Benedict laughed. “Seriously, Donna, how do you want to handle protection when we’re finally together?” he asked. “Unless you’re ready for us to procreate right off the bat, which for the record, I’m really okay with.” He cast a sidelong glance at Donna to gauge her reaction.

“To be honest with you, I’m a traditionalist. I want to be married before starting a family.”

“We can stop at the Registry Office on the way back to your flat then.”

“Is that a proposal? If so, it’s the strangest one I’ve ever heard.”

“Nope. You’ll know when I propose. I was just joking. However, I’m not joking about using protection. I suppose neither of us is ready for parenthood just yet.”

“Correct. Which method do you prefer?”

_Isn’t she the direct one! I like that in a woman. No beating around the bush._

Benedict bit his lower lip and frowned. “Frankly, I was hoping to forego the condoms being we’re exclusive and have no STDs between us. It just feels so much nicer without one.”

_He votes for no condoms, which is fine by me. They’ve been known to break sometimes._

“However, with that said, I’m more than willing to take full responsibility and use one if that’s what you fancy,” he added.

_Ah, now that’s a very mature attitude and refreshing to hear._

“If there was a slip up, you would be the one to carry the baby, so I think you should choose the method of birth control we use. I'll go along with whatever you decide.”

_That’s what I love about him. He truly cares about my health…except for the possible smoking, which needs to be discussed._

“I’ve got good news for you, Benedict. You won’t need a condom because I’m already on the pill. I started taking them when you left for filming, which is why I had a box of condoms. My doctor suggested I use condoms as a backup for the first month.”

“I hadn’t realized you went to see Juliette.”

_Juliette? That’s right. I remember asking Ben for her number because Carly and I decided we needed to have someone in London in case we wind up staying here longer than expected. She’s the ob/gyn who’s going to marry his good friend, Mark. Mark is Ben’s doctor, and they went to Harrow together. Adam’s his best friend – the one I flirted with. How I dread the day when I come face-to-face with him._

“No. Not yet. My doctor in New York gave me a prescription, which I filled before coming here. I wasn’t actively planning on meeting anyone, but I figured it never hurts to be prepared.”

“Like a good Girl Scout should,” snorted Benedict.

“Stop mocking me, Benedict!”

“I’m not and you certainly earned your fellatio badge last night and then some,” he teased. “Erm…are you _really_ okay with taking the pill? They aren’t always safe from what I’ve read. Did your doctor clear you to take them?”

“I don’t want to take any chances with an unplanned pregnancy at this stage of our relationship. The pill is proven to be the most effective method. Besides I’m under thirty-five and don’t smoke, so they don’t pose much of a risk to my health. My doctor said I should have no problem taking them.”

Benedict nodded. “As long as you’re sure then.”

“I’m absolutely sure. Taking the pill is probably safer for me than breathing second hand smoke.”

_Oh, fuck. She’s going to quiz me about my smoking. Jimmy warned me about the possibility of it coming up sooner or later.  
_

_I’m going to ask him. Now is the perfect time. I need to know.  
_

“Benedict, the first time I was at your apartment for dinner, I noticed a pack of cigarettes on your dresser. Do you smoke?”

_Fuck me! I forgot to put them away. Well, at least she didn’t find my stash of weed. That would have been far worse. Tell her the truth, Benedict. Don’t waffle. Just get it over with. If she truly loves you, she will understand and support you._

“I’m a _former_ smoker. I’ve tried to quit countless times over the past few years, but always went back to it. This last time I resolved to beat it, and I’ve been more or less smoke free for over a year now.”

“What does more or less mean? I would think you’re either smoke free or you’re not.”

Benedict sighed. “Every once in a while I will take a drag or two to satisfy my craving, which is forever with me. You may find this hard to believe but I happen to enjoy smoking. I like the heady taste of tobacco and the rush I get from that first drag. There’s nothing like having a fag with a coffee or a drink or after good sex. I find it one of life’s pleasures and probably wouldn’t have quit if it didn’t pose such a serious health risk.”

“May I ask why you even started in the first place? Surely, you knew what a dangerous and addictive habit it is.”

“Of course I did, but I thought I was above it. My parents both smoked and their health was fine. Basically, I was young and stupid and thought it was cool. I was confident that I would be able to just quit whenever I decided to. How wrong I was! I had no idea just how addictive it was until I tried to stop.”

“This isn’t the first time I’ve heard an ex-smoker say that,” observed Donna. “So, you started because of your parents or peer pressure?”

“Neither. You see it was taking me forever to reach puberty. All my friends’ had deep voices but me and because of it I was still being relegated to women’s roles. So I decided to hasten things along and took up smoking while I was at Harrow in order to deepen my voice. I would smoke and drink whiskey to roughen it, so I’d get more mature roles.”

“I certainly don’t condone your method, but it seems to have worked,” remarked Donna dryly. “You have one of the sexiest voices I’ve ever heard.”

“I must admit my unorthodox method was a success,” he chuckled self-consciously. “Between that and finally reaching puberty, I was soon playing Willie Loman in _Death of a Salesman_ , which was a hell of a lot better than playing Titania, Queen of the Fairies in _A Midsummers Night Dream_ ,” he chortled.

They drove in silence for a bit while Donna pondered his words.

“I think I would rather you play the fairy queen than jeopardize your health.”

_That wasn’t so bad. She’s being a bit cheeky about it, but I can live with that. She seems to understand. Sort of.  
_

_Holy cow! He was crazy to do that just so his voice would deepen and now he’s always going to have that addiction hanging over his head. Just leave him alone now. There’s nothing you can do except be understanding and support him by encouraging him to remain smoke-free.  
_

“I have to tell you that was a _very_ stupid thing to do. Your voice would have deepened eventually. All you did was put your health at risk. Do you realize that smoking can not only affect fertility in a man but also the health of the fetus? There was a new study done on this. The father’s health is every bit as important as the mother’s at the time of conception.”

_Good job, Donna! You should have been a preacher – you show such a God-given talent for nagging. You sound more and more like Mom every day. She would have told him that. That was dumb. Zip those lips and shut up. He’s so well-read that he already knows that I’m sure._

_What the fuck? I never heard about that! I need to confirm this with Mark. The last thing I need or want is fertility issues. I want to give Donna healthy children._

Donna noticed how Benedict’s handsome face had briefly clouded over.

“I had no idea,” he murmured with a touch of sadness in his voice.

_Oh my! He had no idea. It’s a good thing I did mention it now rather than right before we start trying to conceive. I know how badly he wants children, so hopefully that will serve as a motivator to stay off them.  
_

“Well I don’t plan on starting up again. I would never do anything to jeopardize your health or that of our future children! I never realized that the potential father’s overall health is just as important as the mother’s.”

_I’m glad this is giving him pause to consider that not only is the mother’s health important, but the father’s as well.  
_

_For fuck’s sake! Did I just say our future children? Yes, I did. At least she doesn’t look freaked out about it. That’s a good sign. I really need to stay off the fags._

“Did you go cold turkey or did you use nicotine patches to stop?”

“Cold turkey is the best way to do it as far as I’m concerned. Let me tell you that it is very difficult to quit. I was not a very pleasant person to be around during that first month, but somehow I managed to get through it. Chewing gum and sucking candy also helps tremendously.”

_That explains why he’s always chomping on those chocolate mints._

“So is that why you have the cigarettes? For emergencies?”

“No. My character for _The Turning Point_ has to smoke on stage.”

“I’ve never heard of an actor being forced to smoke for a role.”

“It was made known when I auditioned that it was required. At the time of the first audition you weren’t in my life. When I went for the callback, I asked if I could use herbal cigarettes, which I despise. They taste positively foul, but I would never do anything to set off your allergies. Your health is just as important – if not more important – than my own.”

“I’m so relieved to hear you say that!” exclaimed Donna. “I was so worried that you would start smoking again and not be able to stop.”

 _Let us hope it works out that way,_ thought Benedict. _She hasn’t a clue just how tough this is going to be for me, and the director really wants us to smoke real cigarettes.  
_

Two hours later, Donna was setting the table in her apartment while Benedict had gone out to pick up a pizza for dinner. As she placed the napkins on the table, there was a brisk knock at her door.

_Let’s see. Benedict would have buzzed me from downstairs. It’s got to be Carly.  
_

Donna looked through the peep hole and saw Andrew Scott standing on the other side.

“Andrew! What a nice surprise!” she exclaimed, giving him a hug. “Come in and have a drink.”

“Hello Darlin’! I just wanted to find out how Ben liked his birthday present,” he said as he followed her into the lounge area and took a seat on the couch.

“You can ask him yourself,” she laughed. “He just went out to pick up a pizza for dinner and should be back soon. Why don’t you get Stephen and join us?”

“Oh, no! This is where I came in last time,” he said, spreading his hands with a horrified expression. “I can’t have Ben thinking I’m a fixture here or worse that we’re having an affair. On second thought he would never believe we were having an affair,” he quipped.

“Stop being so silly!” scolded Donna as she went to the kitchen to get her laptop off the counter. “I’m sure Benedict would enjoy seeing you under normal circumstances for a change. The last two times weren’t exactly conducive to conversation.”

Andrew laughed. “Isn’t that the sweet truth! The first time you were so off your face in the hallway that you couldn’t stand and the second time Ben had to hide in the loo so I wouldn’t see his hard on.”

Donna giggled as Andrew’s face reddened, and he clapped his hand over his mouth.

“Fuck. I didn’t say that.”

“Yes, you did! It’s alright, Andrew. We’re all adults here.”

Donna set her laptop on the dining room table, plugged it in the wall socket and booted it up.

“So, will you please join us?”

“Stephen’s got a show tonight. I suppose you could twist my arm.”

 “Consider it twisted!”

 “Ouch!”

Donna got the small bottle of champagne from the refrigerator that she and Benedict hadn’t drunk while at the inn.

“This should make the pizza more festive,” she mused. “How about we get a head start and have a glass? I also have a nice red Chianti and also beer, if you prefer.”

_A beer sounds good. No, Andrew! Have you forgotten that she chills the beer?_

“I’ll have champagne or wine,” tittered Andrew, running his hand through his hair. “Will the laptop also be dining with us then? Is it supposed to be my date?” he teased.

“I’m going to introduce Benedict to my parents tonight via a Skype call later tonight.”

_Though I'm really starting to have second and third thoughts about going through with it._

“Does he know this?”

“Yep, and the fool is sooo looking forward to it,” scoffed Donna as she got another place setting for Andrew. “He’s so excited that you would think he was going to meet Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie!”

Andrew blinked in surprise at Donna’s words. “My Darlin’; that was quite a harsh thing to say!”

“Not if you knew my parents. They have been waiting for this day for a long time, but for different reasons than you might think.”

Andrew had gone over to the wall of windows to look across the Thames. “One of my friends is acting over at the Globe tonight,” he said wistfully.

“You can’t even imagine their excitement when they got wind that I had a man in my life.”

“Awww that’s really sweet of them to be so excited. My parents were over the moon when I first brought Stephen home for Sunday lunch. They could barely contain themselves. Both my sisters love him as if he were another brother.”

Donna arranged the dish and napkin to her satisfaction on the placemat.

“My parents _are_ genuinely happy for me. It’s just that introducing them to Benedict is going to subject him to being scrutinized very closely.”

“When you’re an actor, you _are_ constantly being scrutinized; so I’m sure he can handle whatever it is they throw at him. Ben is a consummate professional.”

_That’s what you think, you other poor unsuspecting soul. They are going to devour him. Benedict can be interviewed by the toughest interviewer on the planet, but when compared to the Neil and Toni Show it will seem like a walk in the park.  Maybe I should rethink this carefully before putting them together on Skype._

“You have such a lovely view of South Bank from here,” commented Andrew. “Not that I don’t cherish my flat’s view of Saint Paul’s, but the Thames looks particularly romantic at night, don’t you think?”

Donna came to stand beside Andrew.   “It _is_ a nice view. Sometimes it’s too nice, especially when I’m sitting at the desk trying to work and catch myself looking out the window and day dreaming.”

“I’d be day dreaming about being on stage at the Globe or the National. What do you daydream about Darlin’?”

“Oh, the usual things…getting married, having kids…having sex with Benedict…having a lot of sex with Benedict.”

“I thought you crossed that off your bucket list after this weekend,” said Andrew with a frown. “Didn’t things work out?”

Donna sighed. “Well, it did for Benedict. Let’s just say Mother Nature had other plans for me,” she replied with disgust.

Andrew looked momentarily puzzled. Then he nodded as the penny dropped.

“There’ll be other opportunities, Donna.”

“I know,” she said going back to the laptop and making sure Skype was turned off.

_I'll keep it off for now.  Time will be on my side. It’s early afternoon in New York, which means they are both working. I may just get away with missing them! I can hope.  
_

Donna’s landline began to ring.

“Excuse me,” she said picking up the receiver. “Hello.”

 **_“Did you order any toppings on our pizza?”_ ** **asked Benedict.**

“Yes. We decided on mushrooms and meatballs. Why? Did they run out?” ** _  
_**

**_“I thought you ordered a plain.”_ **

“You were the one who requested the mushrooms - Unless that was my other boyfriend.”

 **Benedict laughed.** **_“My head is in the clouds today.”_**

_Who am I to argue with him? He can be so ditzy at times._

“While you’re there, can you please get a medium mixed salad with the dressing on the side?”

_Holy cow! Mom always orders the dressings on the side…this is quite scary. I never used to do shit like this. I don’t when I’m working. I always eat the salads however the come dressed. The calorie-conscious gene must have kicked in._

**_“No problem.”_ **

“Andrew dropped by, and I invited him to stay for pizza.”

**_“Jolly good. Be back soon. Cheers.”_  
**

“Ben’s glad you’re here! We can talk about _Sherlock_. You two can fill me in on it.”

Andrew followed her into the kitchen as she opened the cabinet to get down three champagne flutes and wine glasses.

“Um..no,” Andrew said, scratching his earlobe. “We can’t, Darlin’. So terribly sorry to have to disappoint you.”

“Oh, come on now! Even with Benedict here you won’t talk about it?”

“There’s this little thing called an NDA, which we both signed in the presence of witnesses. My lips will remain sealed until the show airs sometime next year. Then I’ll be happy y to answer whatever questions you still have.”

 _I bet if I rubbed a certain someone’s scalp just the right way, he’d spill everything,_ thought Donna with a smug smile.

Andrew saw the expression on her face and knew she wasn’t about to give up. He fixed her with a look as he wagged his finger at her.

“Ben’s not going to cave and tell you,” he said with mock seriousness. “No matter what you do to him.”

Donna snickered. “He’s got very sensitive hair follicles.”

“Don’t we all, Darlin’, but I’m not going to give you access to my pubes.”

“I think I could use that glass of champagne after that comment, and just for the record, I was referring to his head...scalp...the hair on his head.”

“Well done me. It was intended to steer you towards less prying topics,” Andrew giggled.

“You would make a great villain, Andrew. I can see you being evil.”

Andrew only smiled and shrugged off her comment.

Donna took the bottles and went into the living room section. Andrew followed her with the glasses and resumed sitting on the couch.

“So, did Ben approve of your tasteful, yet sexy, black corset?”

Donna carefully removed the foil from the top of the champagne bottle. She began to tug at the cork.

“He loved it. Too bad I couldn’t breathe in it. It really was too damn tight, Andrew.”

“I bet Ben liked it. I wish I could have seen his face.”

“I thought his eyes were going to come out of his head. It made me feel shy and sexy at the same time to have a man look me over like that.”

“I told you it would be worth it.”

Donna started to inch the cork out of the bottle. “Damn! This thing is hard to get out.”

Andrew held out his hand. “Here. Let me do it. You don’t want to shake the bottle or you’ll have foam and champagne all over the place,” he warned.

“Oh, it’s already been on quite a car ride rolling around in Ben’s trunk!” giggled Donna. “The man doesn’t believe in using the cargo net for some strange reason. Seriously, it’s had plenty of time to settle down. I think I’ve got it now. My dad always says to twist it a bit first.”

“Don’t you have one of those special wine cork removers?”

“Nope. Don’t need one. Anyway, Benedict literally had to rip the corset off of me.”

Andrew waggled his eyebrows. “Well then. I’d say that was a rousing success if he got so worked up that he had to rip the fucking thing off! Well done you!” He raised his hand to high five her.

“That’s because I begged him to rip it off.”

“Such a saucy little wench you are! I never would have thought you had it in you, Darlin’!”

“I wasn’t being saucy, Andrew! I couldn’t catch my breath in it! Literally. That’s how tight it was!”

“Oh. And here I was thinking how lusty you two were…like a scene straight out of _Tom Jones_.”

“Don’t I wish!” laughed Donna. “Though we did try to sneak more of each other’s cake. The earth didn’t move for me this time, but at least I was able to give Benedict some well-deserved…attention. He loved the _War Horse_ tickets, too. Again, thank you for getting them for me.”

“I was more than happy to,” Andrew said as someone knocked at the door.

“That has to be Carly,” said Donna. She looked through the peephole to see Benedict, arms laden with a pizza box and a large white shopping bag emblazoned with the restaurant’s logo.

“You didn’t buzz me from the lobby,” she said opening the door. “I can’t believe Tom let you come on up without calling me.”

“Both doormen recognize me now, so I can just come and go as I please,” Benedict said, kissing her on top of her head as he breezed into her flat. “Hello Andrew! Glad you could join us. It’s been an age since we had a proper chat.”

“Good to see you, Ben,” said Andrew, leaning over to take the champagne bottle off the coffee table. “We were just going to open this.”

“I’ve got it!” said Donna, taking the bottle and picking up where she had left off. “Damn bottle,” she muttered.

“I think I’ll try the wine,” said Andrew, opening the bottle and pouring himself some.

 _Ben’s got a right stubborn one here_ , thought Andrew with amusement _. I hope for her sake the bubbles have calmed down or she’s going to have a right mess.  
_

“What are you drinking, Ben? We’ve got Chianti and Champagne.”

“And there’s plenty of beer in the fridge,” added Donna.

Donna watched as Benedict and Andrew exchanged disapproving looks across the room. Benedict shrugged and rolled his eyes, causing Andrew to snicker quietly.

_Silly me! They like their beer at room temperature. I have no idea how they can stomach it.  
_

_There shall be no tea and no beer consumed in this flat for me!_ Benedict chuckled to himself. _  
_

“I think I’ll pass on the beer,” said Benedict.

“Where on earth did you find parking?” Donna asked Benedict. “There’s nothing around here.”

“In the car park beneath the building. Tom gave me the code to get in a while back. He said I might as well use the space allocated to your flat since you don’t have a car.”

Benedict set the pizza on the table and unpacked the salad.

“Since I’m such a tart for good champagne, I think I’ll start with that. You’ve got emails, Donna,” he said as he studied her laptop screen.

_Shit. I didn’t sign out of email because I was too worried about the Skype. I hope Wanda didn’t send me that photo of him yet!  
_

“I’ll look at them later. Come and have your champagne, Ben,” she grunted, pulling at the cork. “It will make the pizza seem more festive.”

Benedict toed off his shoes and padded into the lounge to shake hands with Andrew. He perched on the edge of the coffee table and held out his hand to Donna for the bottle.

“Why don’t you let me do that, Love? You seem to be struggling with it,” he observed.

“I…almost have…the damn…thing,” Donna insisted as she twisted the cork one last time and pulled it with all her might. “This should complement the pizza nicely…Ah, got it!”

“Wait a minute! Isn’t that the bottle we had at the Inn? Don’t open it! It’ll explode!” shouted Benedict as he lunged to take the bottle from Donna.

There was a popping sound as the cork shot out of the bottle, hitting Benedict in the crotch. Andrew ducked, knocking the bottle of red wine onto the carpet. Foam overflowed the champagne bottle and onto Benedict. Andrew, who had gotten sprayed with some of the champagne, had jumped up to see what had happened to Benedict.

“Bloody hell! Are you alright, Mate?” Andrew asked worriedly.

“Motherfucker!” Benedict yelped, grasping his balls. A wave of nausea instantly washed over him. “Christ!” he gasped, doubling over in pain.

“Oh my God! Ben! Are you alright?” cried Donna. “I didn’t realize it was under that much pressure!”

“Why would you open a bottle that has been rolling around in my boot all afternoon? Surely you realized it was going to explode yes?” Benedict rasped.

_Heaven forbid he use the cargo net in his trunk or nestle the bottle in between the suitcases so it wouldn’t move. He just tossed it in with everything else, helter skelter._

“I figured it had enough time for the natural carbonation to settle down,” replied Donna, wringing her hands. “I’m so sorry!”

“That mother fucking bottle was rolling about in my boot for over four hours! Of course it would explode!!”

“I’ll get you an ice pack,” volunteered Donna. “Does it hurt much?”

“What do you think? It hurts like a bitch, for fucks sake!” he winced, face contorted in pain. “I feel like I’m going to puke.”

Donna suddenly noticed the scarlet pool of wine on the area rug and looked at Andrew and Benedict in alarm.

“Oh my God! The carpet will be stained! I’ll have to pay to replace it! Let me get some towels,” exclaimed Donna, dashing down the hallway to the linen closet. She threw open the doors to look at the towels. “Shit! All these fucking towels are white, and they’re not mine! Who in the hell only buys white towels? The red wine will stain them and the carpet!” They heard her shout in frustration.

Andrew quickly got some paper toweling from the kitchen and handed some to Benedict, along with a glass of water and two aspirin. The two men stared at each other.

“I buy white towels,” said Andrew quietly.

“Me, too,” said Benedict. “I want to crawl into a ball and die right now.”

“It’ll pass,” said Andrew as he knelt down to try and blot up the spilled wine the best he could.

“I know, I know,” exhaled Benedict sharply. “I don’t know which is worse – the pain or the nausea.”

“I always found the nausea worse,” declared Andrew. “I’m going back to my flat to clean up and change my shirt. Please tell Donna I’ll be back in thirty minutes or so.”

Benedict nodded and gulped as he tried to make his way to flop onto the couch. He steady ache in his groin was not showing signs of subsiding just yet.

“Here you go!” called Donna as she tossed an ice pack to him, narrowly missing his crotch. “Just hold this against your balls for twenty minutes.”

_Jesus Christ! I know I’ve said this before, but I must never, ever play darts with her. And now she wants me to ice my balls for twenty minutes?!?  
_

“Andrew went across the hall to clean himself up.”

“I should be done in here by then,” said Donna, dropping to her knees as she began to sprinkle some carpet cleaner over the stains. “Supposedly, this should soak up the worst of it, and all I’ll have to do is vacuum it up.”

“That’s what I used when you puked all over the bedroom rug. It works quite well.”

“Put the ice pack on! It’ll take down whatever swelling there is.”

 _And now she wants to freeze whatever sperm I may have left after that! What in the hell did I get myself into?_ Thought Benedict as he gingerly applied it to his crotch.

After taking care of the area rug, Donna sat beside him on the couch.

“How are you feeling?”

“The nausea is gone, thank God. I’m just a little sore,” he answered.

They both jumped as the Skype chime began to sound on Donna’s laptop.

“I thought I turned that off!” She cried.

“And I turned it back on,” retorted Benedict. “Didn’t you say we were going to call your parents later on? We can’t talk to them if you’ve got your Skype turned off.”

_That was the idea, so we couldn’t talk to them until I was ready! Why do things like this always happen to me?_

“Shit! I wasn’t ready for them yet. And what makes you think you’re going to get to do any talking? All you’re going to do is answer a ton of questions!” Donna huffed with annoyance. “I don’t know why you’re so hell bent on opening up the proverbial can of worms!”

“Oh, I think you exaggerate just a little bit when it comes to your parents,” scolded Benedict, bringing his thumb and index finger together.

“Okay. You talk to them and then you tell me,” snickered Donna.

“They can’t be as bad as your paint them.”

“That’s what you think.”

“I’m sure they are very sweet.”

Donna guffawed. “No one has ever called them sweet.”

“Stop being so stropy, Donna!” Benedict got up and pulled Donna to her feet. “Come on! It’s time for you to finally introduce us. I’m so anxious to meet them, and I’m sure I’ll find them to be perfectly lovely people.”

_I bet he’ll be singing a different tune once we hang up._

The oven timer suddenly went off, alerting Donna that the pizza had finished re-warming.

_Good! Here’s my chance to sign out of my email before Mr. Nosy-batch decides to read them. I also need to turn off Skype, so we can eat in peace._

“Benedict, could you please turn the oven off and get the pizza out, while I turn off the Skype ?” Asked Donna as she hurried over to the laptop. To her relief, the Skype chime had stopped.

_Thank God!  It was them. They gave up….but they will be back. It's showing a missed call from Drama Critic, which means it was Dad. It’s Monday, so I’m thinking Mom’s in court or with a client. Dad must be on his lunch break._

As Benedict had mentioned, Donna saw she had a few new emails and took a quick peek. One was from Wanda, entitled “Sherlock Promo Pics”.

_Ooooo that must be the photo of Benedict dressed as Sherlock Holmes! I really want to see it.  
_

Donna looked over her shoulder. Benedict was preoccupied with putting on the oven mitts. She quickly opened the email and scanned it:

 

**Dear Donna,  
**

**Attached are some promo shots of Benedict as Sherlock Holmes. The man with him is Martin Freeman, who will be playing Dr. Watson. These are BBC promotional photos from the pilot and must remain confidential. Please do not show or send them to anyone.  
**

**I’ll be ringing you shortly. There was something else that Tim and I neglected to discuss with you.  
**

**Wanda  
**

_I wonder what else they forgot to discuss with me? I guess I’ll be finding out sooner or later. I’m not going to dwell on that now._

Donna took one more look behind her. Benedict was removing the pizza from the oven. She clicked on the first attachment. A photograph of Benedict came up. His hair was quite a bit longer and dyed black. He was wearing a long, dark tweed winter coat and scarf around his neck.

_Wow! She wasn’t kidding! How different he looks! He really looks like a dangerous bad boy! And this sexy man is all mine!  
_

The other attachment showed Benedict and a shorter man with sandy-colored hair. _  
_

_So, that’s Martin Freeman. He looks older than Benedict. He’s rather cute though.  
_

Donna signed out of her email just as Benedict brought the pizza to the table. In her excitement to see the photos, she had forgotten to turn off Skype. The doorbell rang as if on cue.

“It must be Andrew,” said Benedict looking at his watch. “Excellent timing!”

“Saved by the bell!” exclaimed Donna, doing a happy dance.

Benedict looked truly disappointed.   “I guess we should wait until Andrew leaves to have our Skype visit. Your parents must be at work yes?”

_Oh, Benedict, you poor, unsuspecting lamb. Work would not stop my parents from meeting you. He doesn’t realize they can do whatever they want from their desks. Dad’s the editor and Mom owns the firm. They make the rules._

“Best idea you’ve had all day,” smiled Donna Saint James. “We’ll catch them later.”

_And by then, it might be too late for us to chat. What a shame that would be. Ha ha ha!_

Benedict watched as Donna opened the door and ushered Andrew inside and for a moment wondered if there just might be something to what Donna had been saying about her parents.

_Donna looks like she wants to kiss Andrew, she’s so relieved. I’m really getting the impression the last thing she wants to do tonight is introduce me to her parents. It’s been one excuse after another not to talk with them. Donna has to be exaggerating about them. I honestly find it hard to believe that they are as awful as she depicts sometimes. There are times when I make Mum sound like a first-class busy-body, yet she isn’t really. When all is said and done, Mum is one of the sweetest women ever; and I’m proud to call her my mother._

Benedict went to the refrigerator and retrieved the salad.

 _Shame on me for even entertaining such a notion about Donna’s parents,_ he thought as he placed the salad and dressing on the table.

As Benedict went to close the lid of Donna’s laptop, he noticed that she had not signed out of Skype.

_Good girl! She’s changed her mind and decided to talk the next time they call._

He studied the photo of her parents that served as her father's Skype icon. They were both smiling at the camera.

_For fucks sake, Benedict, how bad can they be?_

 

 

 

 

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. The getting lost/short cut to the Motorway scene was borrowed from real life experiences.  
> 2\. Again, I wanted the characters to also touch upon serious topics, such as birth control and Benedict' s never ending battle to quit smoking - in my universe. He's said he's quit in real life, and I wish him well.  
> 3\. This chapter was written well before the baby announcement and has nothing to do with any speculation that's going around the internet. I am very happy that BC's going to be a daddy. :-)  
> 4\. I haven't a clue if an actor can be forced to smoke on stage or not - for the purposes of this story, it's something that can be negotiated.  
> 5\. Next week: Benedict meets Donna's parents


	73. Chapter 73

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Donna gets two unwanted calls during dinner. Benedict suffers a mouth filter malfunction. Andrew takes a Skype call. 
> 
> Note: I’ll be using ********* to indicate things going on at the same time.

 

 

Donna Saint James ate the last bite of her meatball pizza slice and washed it down with some red wine. 

“Gosh, I need to stop hanging around with you two. I drink way more than I should,” she giggled. “I’m feeling a bit light-headed.” 

Benedict and Andrew exchanged puzzled looks. Andrew helped himself to another slice from the mushroom side of the pizza and took a large bite, causing some of the mushrooms to slide off onto his plate. 

“Half a glass of champagne and one glass of red wine hardly qualify as ‘way more’,” smirked Benedict. He leaned over and plucked a thin, hair-like strand of cheese from the corner of Donna’s mouth. 

_OH, I must have looked adorable with cheese hanging off my lip. Why do things like this happen to me?_

“There’s no elegant way to eat pizza, Darlin’,” laughed Andrew, as a bit of tomato sauce plopped onto his plate. “That I know of anyway,” he added picking up the fallen mushrooms with his fingers. 

“Actually there is. My mother eats it with a knife and fork,” scoffed Donna. “My dad folds the slice in half and eats it like a lot of New Yorkers do.” 

“A knife and fork did you say? Bloody hell! Your Mum does sound a bit neurotic,” laughed Andrew. “Oh, shit, where are my manners? I shouldn’t have said that.” 

“You are being way too kind,” quipped Donna. She took a small bite of the mushroom-topped pizza that Benedict had put onto her plate. “I don’t remember asking for a mushroom slice.” 

“You didn’t, but I sensed it from the way you kept eyeing that last slice,” smirked Benedict. 

“And you sensed correctly! Thank you.” 

“Is your mum normally a fussy eater,” inquired Andrew. 

“If you call eating spareribs with a knife and fork, prissy – then absolutely!” 

“I can’t say that I’ve ever seen anyone eat ribs with a knife and fork,” mused Andrew. “It must take her quite a long time to eat one.” 

“It’s quite an amazing feat, actually. She hates getting her hands dirty when she eats.” 

Benedict nibbled on his leftover crust. 

_Jesus Christ. Mum’s not afraid of soiling her hands whenever she eats, and she went to finishing school. Donna should see Mum up to her elbows in gravy with the roast chicken. Not to mention her love of spareribs and meat served on the bone.  
_

“I remember the time we went to Walt Disney World, and Mum developed a fondness for those humongous smoked turkey legs that were sold all over the place,” chortled Benedict. “I’ve got to show you some of the photos Dad took of her with one. It was so reminiscent of the Flintstones.” 

Donna nodded. “Yep. Those are very popular. My whole family loves them…not my mom though. She would always have to get a knife and fork.” 

“Surely she misses out on the purely sensual experience that comes from eating with one’s hands at time,” remarked Benedict. 

_Only Benedict can make eating with one’s hands sound like sex._

“What about foods that are made to be eaten with her hands?” inquired Andrew. “I mean there are some things you need to use your hands for yes?” _  
_

“Oh, you don’t know my mother. She even eats egg rolls with a knife and fork…fried chicken, too. I always thought it was normal to slice the corn off the cob before eating it. We were the only kids who went on picnics with knives and forks to eat our cold fried chicken and watermelon. They weren’t your normal American-style picnics by any means!” 

_She needs to cease with the snarky comments about her mum! I need to change the topic,_ thought Benedict as he finished his pizza slice. _I’ll just steer the conversation back to drinking._

“You had half a glass of champagne, Donna. I finished the other half,” pointed out Benedict, taking a forkful of salad. “You had one glass of wine. That hardly qualifies as over indulging,” he snickered. “I’ve had two glasses of champagne and one of wine so far.” 

_So far. He’s not driving home. He’s going to stay here tonight_ , thought Donna, as she sipped some water. 

“I’ve had three of the wine. Did we finally finish off the bottle?” asked Andrew. 

Benedict picked up the bottle. “Yeah. It’s empty. Well done us,” he guffawed. “And we’re just barely buzzed…well, at least _I_ am.” 

Andrew finished his pizza crust and considered his condition. “I’d say I’m a bit relaxed…just approaching the giddy stage.” 

“I don’t know how you guys can drink like that. If I have anymore, I’m going to wind up under the table. Two drinks are my limit.” 

_I’d rather you wind up in bed…with me_ , thought Benedict _. I wouldn’t at all mind a repeat of last night._

Andrew giggled. “That means you are entitled to another half glass before we have to carry you off to bed, Donna.” 

Benedict waved his fork at her. “Sweetheart, I need to teach you how to drink properly.” 

_I’ve never seen Benedict get drunk in my presence. I’ve heard Andrew come home tipsy a few times…he is quite the little giggler when he’s had one too many._

“A glass of water in between each drink and food in your stomach is paramount to not getting totally pissed,” explained Benedict, warming to the topic. “You hadn’t eaten much before you started drinking the night at the Golden Fleece – that’s why the cider and beer hit you so hard.” 

“I didn’t have any beer that night.” 

Benedict fixed her with a look. “That’s odd. Someone who looked just like you drank my second pint of beer.” 

Donna felt her cheeks reddened. _He’s right_. “Now that you mention it, I do recall asking for a glass of ice because I couldn’t stomach it warm. I don’t know how you can drink it at room temperature.” 

“It’s the custom here – like it’s the custom in the States to drink it cold,” retorted Benedict with a shiver. “Cold beer takes some getting used to! However, I do my best to manage,” he added with a sly smile. 

“I find it best to eat something substantial _before_ I start drinking,” said Andrew. “That way the alcohol will be absorbed more slowly into my system. That’s the key to successful drinking.” 

_Jeez Louise, these two make it sound like an art!_

“Well, I’ll have to make sure to remember your tips for successful drinking the next time I go to a pub,” quipped Donna. 

“No hard cider for you,” said Benedict wagging his index finger at her. “That was quite the debacle that night.” 

“You need to try proper ale then,” said Andrew. “It’s too easy to get pissed on hard cider. You tend to forget there’s alcohol in it. I can’t tell you how many times that’s happened to me. A nice pint of ale would help you pace yourself.” 

_I think I’ll do some probing and see if one of them will slip about Sherlock being they both have some liquor in them._

“So, are you two looking forward to working together on _Sherlock_?” asked Donna nonchalantly, spearing a black olive out of her salad with her fork. 

“I honestly can’t wait!” gushed Andrew, sipping some wine. “This is the first time Ben and I will be working together.” 

“Absolutely,” replied Benedict with equal enthusiasm. “It’s going to be such a treat. Mark Gatiss and Steve Moffat have assembled an extraordinarily talented cast. It’s an embarrassment of riches to be able to work with all these fine actors – present company included!” 

_Hmmm…someone is quite fond of that phrase ‘an embarrassment of riches’,_ thought Donna with amusement _. It’s the type of humble-sounding crap an actor would say in an interview. I hope for his sake he never uses it in front of Dad, who would just laugh his head off.  
_

“Is there anyone else I know in the show?” asked Donna casually. 

Benedict raised an eyebrow at her and set down his wine glass. 

_Careful, Benedict. She’s fishing for information. Do not tell her that Andrew is Moriarty no matter what. God, she’s every bit as crafty as I am!  
_

“Well, you already know Mark Gatiss,” responded Benedict equally as nonchalantly. “He’s playing Mycroft Holmes, Sherlock’s elder brother.” 

Donna smiled. “Oh, I had no idea that Mark was going to be acting in the show, too! Anyone else?” 

“Yours truly,” giggled Andrew, as he pointed to himself. 

_Yes, and what role are you playing? That’s what I want to know. It has to be Dr. Watson._

“Una Stubbs is playing Mrs. Hudson, our landlady,” continued Benedict. “She’s also a close friend of my mum’s and such a treasure,” he smiled fondly. “I’ve known her for ages - ever since I was a small. Mum would take me out in my pram and meet Una in Hyde Park every day.” 

“Oh, Una is just lovely!” chimed in Andrew. “And a brilliant actress.” 

_Una Stubbs! Wanda’s friend! The one who I thought was Tim’s wife at Cabin Pressure, not to mention she’s the one who helped Wanda write the Craigslist ad. Oh my God, if Benedict ever got a load of that!_

“Are you allowed to say that, Ben?” asked Andrew with a worried look. 

“Why the hell not? It’s not as if I told her that you’re playing Moriarty,” began Benedict. 

_OH HO! That was way easier than I thought it was going to be!_ Laughed Donna to herself. _I didn’t even have to massage his scalp or any other part of him!_

Benedict’s expression changed to one of alarm as he realized his slip up. 

_FUCK ME! What did I just say?_

“I think you just did,” lamented Andrew shaking his head. “Um..that’s what you weren’t supposed to say, Ben.” 

Benedict ran his hands through his hair. “Fuckity fuck fuck! I just violated the terms of the NDA! I can be sued if word gets out!” 

_Moriarty! So, Andrew’s playing Professor Moriarty!_

Andrew looked at Donna and shrugged. 

“And now you know. I’ve been cast as James Moriarty. Please don’t tell a soul. We can both get in quite a bit of trouble for revealing that morsel,” implored Andrew. 

“You can’t say anything about this!” warned Benedict. “Please promise me you won’t. Not your parents. Not Carly, not Steve.” 

Donna crossed her heart. “I swear not to utter a word about it.” 

“Especially since Mark Gatiss is one of your customer’s at Carldonn,” continued Benedict sternly. “It can _never_ get back to him, Donna! It’s one thing if _he_ decides to tell you, but he can’t find out it was _me_ who spilled the beans.” 

Donna took Benedict’s hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “I won’t slip, guys. I’ll just delete it off my mental hard drive.” 

“Thank you,” smiled Andrew with relief. 

_Oh, she’s going to slip and tell someone. I just know it. Her tongue is every bit as loose as mine is_ , _bless her_ , thought Benedict worriedly. _That makes four who know: Mum and Dad, Adam and now Donna._

“So Martin Freeman really _is_ playing Dr. Watson. All this time I was convinced that you were Dr. Watson,” Donna said to Andrew. “I guess I was wrong,” she giggled. 

Both Andrew and Benedict eyed her with a mixture of suspicion and curiosity. Donna felt her stomach bottom out at her faux pas. 

_SHIT. They’re both wondering how I knew that tidbit of information. I wasn’t supposed to say that. Wanda’s the one who mentioned Martin Freeman. Crap. It’s so obvious that I messed up. Benedict will certainly pick up on that. There’s no way I could know that.  
_

Andrew looked from Donna to Benedict. “You’ve met Martin then?” 

Benedict looked a Donna with narrowed eyes. “No. She hasn’t. We’ve never really discussed _Sherlock_ except that I did the pilot and it was picked up by the BBC for three episodes.” 

“I saw a photo of you two dressed as Holmes and Watson.” 

_OH, Donna, you’re letting him make you nervous. You fucked up again. Think quickly. I hate when he turns those gorgeous blue eyes on me like that._

“What photo?” demanded Benedict, leaning back in his chair. 

“She must be talking about the promo photos that the BBC released once the announcement was made that show was picked up and it hit the papers,” responded Andrew. 

_I’ve got to stop being paranoid about those photos. Of course they would have been in the papers. Now, Mum could legally show them around. Thank God, I’m in a relationship and those days are over!_

_God bless Andrew Scott! There is a place in heaven for him!_ Thought Donna with relief. _The Tribune would definitely have mentioned it, I just don’t remember because I wasn’t with Benedict at the time.  
_

“Yeah! It was in the Tribune’s entertainment section, which I’m part of. It’s not like one of my friend’s emailed it to me or something,” retorted Donna. 

_It was your mother who did, but you don’t need to know about that. I must remember to tell Wanda that she doesn’t have to keep the photos a secret any longer. Only the part where she emailed them to me….or that we even know each other. Wow, on Sunday I’m going to have to pretend that I’m meeting her for the first time. That’s going to be tough.  
_

“Sorry, if I over-reacted a bit, Love; but my mother was showing them around London to prospective daughters-in-law,” quipped Benedict. “I used to feel as if I was this …I don’t know…difficult commodity that she was trying to sell.” 

_Mmm…now I know why Wanda and Tim were so adamant about his not finding out.  
_

“I found it an annoying invasion of my privacy and emasculating at the same time,” continued Benedict. “One day she angered me so that I told her to go ahead and run a bloody ad on Craigslist to find me a date!” 

_And she did. She took you at your word. And I answered her ad. And here we are. I have to agree that he wouldn’t take it well if he were to find out._

Donna smiled reassuringly at him. “Well, she doesn’t have to do things like that anymore. You’re off the market.” 

Benedict returned the smile, as he leaned over to kiss her cheek. Donna noticed that he was beaming at her words. 

_Yes. I’m off the market. I like the sound of that. I really can’t wait to get Donna and Mum together. I just know they’re going to get along splendidly.  
_

“How are Wanda and Tim?” inquired Andrew. “Still working?” 

_Jeez Louise! All I had to do was ask Andrew what his parents’ names were. He obviously knows or knows of them. I guess actors are familiar with each other’s work._

“They’re both quite well and still working. Dad’s got this recurring gig in a mini-series and Mum’s about to wrap her scenes in a film being shot up in Yorkshire. Neither can bear the thought of being retired.” 

“Anyone for dessert?” asked Donna, getting to her feet. “I’ve got half of a carrot cake in the fridge that Curly Carly the Cake Fairy must have brought up and left while I was away.” 

Both men nodded agreeably. 

“Coffee or tea?” 

“I think I fancy a cup of tea,” replied Andrew. 

Donna caught Benedict violently shaking his head at Andrew. 

_You bastard! He’s warning him off my tea! I can’t believe he just did that!_

Andrew cocked an eyebrow at Benedict in puzzlement. 

“Why not?” Donna heard him whisper. 

“She makes the worst tea ever,” hissed Benedict. “It’s nothing but overly sweet hot water and milk.” 

_Overly sweet says the man who puts two sugars in his coffee and tea, unless it’s Earl Grey tea._

Andrew made eyes at Benedict as he caught Donna pointedly watching them from the kitchen. “I’m afraid she’s already overheard us.” 

Benedict stood and began to gather up the empty plates as if he hadn’t said anything. “Sit back and relax, Andrew,” he said, waving at Andrew to stay seated as he began to help Benedict. 

_Did Benedict really have to say that in front of Andrew? Now that I think about it, Andrew always drinks coffee here.  Is it because he likes my Kona coffee or is it because he hates the way I make tea._

“I guess I’ll make coffee since my tea doesn’t meet with your approval,” sneered Donna. 

“I’ll make the tea, Love. Didn’t you ask me to on the drive back?” Benedict asked her sweetly with the little nose crinkle and lopsided smile. 

_I wish he wouldn’t crinkle his cute little nose like that. Yes, I did say that. Go for it, Benedict. I really do need a lesson.  
_

“That way you’ll see how to make it properly, because no Englishman worth his salt is going to be able to stomach what you’ve been serving.” 

_Whoa hoa! Was that last jab called for?_

“Excuse me?” snarled Donna. “Was that last comment really warranted? _"  
_

“If you’ll excuse me, I’ll just use the loo,” said Andrew, leaving the room in a hurry.   

Donna waited until Andrew had shut the door to the bathroom before addressing her suddenly guilty-looking boyfriend. 

_I sense I’m about to be told off for taking the piss at her tea in front of Andrew.  
_

“Ben, next time, I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t poke fun at my inability to make tea to your standards in front of others.” 

_She’s right. I should have kept my big mouth shut and just offered to make the tea.  
_

“I’m sorry. It wasn’t my intent to embarrass you.” 

_Of course not. Not at first it was. You didn’t realize I could see and hear you. However, that last snide remark in front of Andrew wasn’t called for. The man certainly isn’t perfect by any means; but his good points outweigh the bad tenfold.  
_

“I just didn’t want to subject him to …” 

“To what?” 

_Why do I always blurt these things out without thinking?_

“A poorly prepared cuppa.” 

Donna’s face dropped a bit. She looked hurt. 

Benedict approached her and took her in his arms. 

“It’s not your fault you chose to fall for a tea-loving Englishman. When I get through with my lesson, no one will ever be the wiser.” He winked at her and kissed her lightly on the lips.

  
“Okay. I’ll forgive you this time,” said Donna, finally relaxing into his embrace. “But don’t let it happen again or I’m going to cut off your cookie supply.” 

_As long as she didn’t threaten to cut off her blow jobs,_ thought Benedict. _She gives the best I’ve ever had._

“Speaking of biscuits, I’m out,” said Benedict sadly, as he released her and walked over to inspect the contents of her glass biscuit jar. He felt hopeful when he saw that it held chocolate cookies. “Those look very tasty.” 

“They are. They’re made with Nutella, chocolate chips and toasted hazelnuts. It’s my friend, Giada’s recipe.” 

“I’ve never heard you mention having a friend named Giada,” said Benedict rubbing his upper lip with his index finger. “That’s a very pretty name. Giada means jade in Italian.” 

_Yes, I have. You just have a hard time keeping my friends straight because you’ve never met any of them…just like I haven’t met all of yours yet; but at least I can identify your friends._

“Yes, I have told you about her. We’ve been friends for a while now. She’s a celebrity chef. Her name is Giada DiLaurentiis.” 

“Oh. I didn’t know you had actual friends among chefs given your job,” snickered Benedict. “Did you give her restaurant a good review then?” 

“Don’t be a wiseass, Benedict. Not all chefs hate me! I met Giada at a Food TV Network promotional party. She was in New York to promote her show, _The Next Food Network Star_ ; and I was there as Carly’s guest because she was networking with the chefs in attendance to get some jobs.” 

“Giada doesn’t have a restaurant then?” 

“Nope. Anyway, we got to chatting at the party and became close friends. Unfortunately, she and her family live in California; so we don’t see each other that often.” 

“Is she related to Dino DiLaurentiis, the producer?” 

“Dino’s her Grandfather. He’s the sweetest man!” 

_So, Donna has hobnobbed with some celebrities. I wonder who else she knows._

“May I taste one of the biscuits?” 

“Of course, you’re free to help yourself to whatever I have, Benedict.” 

“If Andrew weren’t here, I’d help myself to you then,” said Benedict with a sly smile. He selected a cookie and took a large bite. “Mmmm…they are every bit as good as they look. I love hazelnuts. Well done, Giada!” 

“Glad to hear that, because I made them before I went to Crestwood. I’ve got some already packed up for you in the cabinet,” laughed Donna. “I can’t have a boyfriend with an empty cookie jar!” 

Donna’s cellphone began to ring on the counter. She and Benedict both craned their necks at the same time to see who the caller was. The caller ID simply said “Wanda”. 

_OH NO! It’s his mother! She said she’d be calling in her email, but not now for fucks sake!  
_

_Does her caller ID say ‘Wanda’? I must be seeing things,_ thought Benedict, shaking his head to clear it _. It still says ‘Wanda’._

Donna lunged for the phone, so it was out of Benedict’s field of vision. He looked slightly taken aback at her sudden action. 

_She doesn’t want me to know who’s calling her! How interesting!_

“Who is it?” he asked casually, while munching on the biscuit. 

“Oh, just someone about a small catering job Carly and I are doing,” replied Donna, trying not to sound as panic-stricken as she felt.

Her palms suddenly felt moist as her heart began to race.  She felt him staring at her with an intense curiosity. 

“Your caller ID shows it’s Wanda. Who’s Wanda?” 

“The woman whose catering job we’re quoting.” 

Donna finally met his gaze. His piercing ice blue eyes were studying her intently as he munched on another cookie.

_Oh, Benedict, I can see the wheels turning inside your head. You’re jumping to conclusions…and rightfully so._

“My mum’s name is Wanda, as you know,” he mused, stabbing the biscuit crumbs on the counter with his index finger and licking them off. 

_God damn! Barrister Ben is at is again! What a fitting nickname his parents bestowed on him!_

“Wanda’s a pretty popular name in this country.” 

_I beg to differ, Donna. She’s the only Wanda I know as a matter of fact.  
_

“Not really,” countered Benedict with a raised eyebrow. “It’s a rather old-fashioned name and not used much anymore.” 

“I bet if you looked online, you’d find your mom isn’t the only Wanda in London,” scoffed Donna. “Now, I’m going to take this in the bedroom where I can concentrate.” 

_You want to take the call where I can’t hear your conversation. I could go have a rummage in the linen cupboard, which is right across the hall from her bedroom, but Andrew’s in the loo. How would that look if he were to catch me? Like I was eavesdropping, which I would be. Such a pity._

Donna pressed the talk button on her phone. “Hello! Oh, yes. I’ve got company for dinner, so I’m just going to go someplace where I can talk without all this noise.” 

_What noises? It’s just the two of us in here!_

Benedict watched Donna walked down the hallway towards her bedroom, into which she disappeared and closed the door behind her. 

_I’m really letting Mum’s cloak and dagger activities of the past get to me. However, she and Dad have been acting very strangely lately – that crap with the webcam in Hampstead. There’s no webcam in Hampstead. I looked it up online. Then what happened to those mysterious memoirs that she was going to write? The time she stashed those papers in the drawer off the printer and tried to convince me they were recipes. And let’s not forget the email to Donna Saint James. Mum has done the I-stepped-on-the-power-cord-by-accident twice now to prevent me from seeing what was on the computer screen. There’s something Mum doesn’t want me to see on their PC. I’ve got to get into it. I’ve got too many questions that need answering.  
_

 

*************************************************************

 

Donna did her best to compose herself as she answered the phone. Benedict’s handsome face had registered complete shock at the abrupt way in which she had grabbed the phone. 

_That was dumb, Donna. You made it so obvious that you didn’t want him to know who was calling. Now, you’ve unleashed Barrister Ben._

“Hello!” 

**_“Hi Donna. It’s Wanda. You sound harried. Is Benedict around?”  
_ **

_Just play it cool, Donna. Pretend she’s a customer._

“Oh, yes. I’ve got company for dinner, so I’m just going to go someplace where I can talk without all this noise.” _  
_

**_“Okay. Let me know when you’re free to talk then.”_ ** _  
_

Donna had practically run down the hallway to the privacy of her bedroom. She made sure to close the door completely and sat in the arm chair by the window. 

“Free to talk with Benedict in the vicinity is an oxymoron,” sighed Donna. “He has an idea that I didn’t want him to know who I was talking to.  I usually take calls in front of him.” 

**_“I can sympathize with you, Love. Remember I had him long before you did,”_** **laughed Wanda.** **“ _I’m quite experienced when it comes to dealing with his terminal inquisitiveness.”  
_**

“Unfortunately, he saw my caller ID, which shows you as ‘Wanda’. He started asking me a million questions. I cut him off and told him Wanda was a customer who needed a quote for a catering job before he could continue. I really do understand why you and Tim call him Barrister Ben.” 

**_“Ah. You’ve been cross examined before then yes?”_ ** _  
_

_More times than I care to count, Wanda. Your son would have made a great trial lawyer.  
_

“Oh, yes. It’s akin to having a conversation with my mother. I don’t know if you remember, but she’s a lawyer.” 

_Yes, and her clients are entertainers. Ben could use a sharp solicitor if he starts getting work in the States._

**_“I do recall your mentioning it. Now, I won’t keep you long because I know how Benedict gets. He’ll be coming to see what’s going on before long, so let me get to the point.”_**

“I’ve got the door closed, so he can’t hear me.” 

_That’s what you think, Love. My son’s probably standing outside the door listening.  
_

**_“I suggest you continue to keep your voice down. Ben loves nothing more than to eavesdrop and snoop around. He’s well-suited to play Sherlock Holmes.”_**

“I’m not worried about him being nosy. I’ve got company. Andrew’s here. He lives across the hall from me and is one of Benedict’s actor friends.” 

**_“Andrew Scott. He’s the one who was cast as Moriarty in Sherlock.”  
_ **

_Jeez Louise! Is there anyone he didn’t tell? So much for the sanctity of the NDA._

“I can see that NDA means nothing to Benedict,” quipped Donna. “He just blurted it out tonight over dinner. I couldn’t believe it!” 

_I did kind of set him up for it, shame on me. It’s not like I’m going to tell anyone. I promised him I wouldn’t._

**Wanda laughed. _“Oh, we’re his parents, Donna. We aren’t going to tell anyone. I love that he has another confidante in you.”_** _  
_

“So what do you want to talk about, Wanda? I don’t want to stay in here too long.” 

**_“Benedict’s bringing you around to Sunday lunch.”_**

“That’s right, and I’m really looking forward to it!” said Donna. “What can I bring?” 

**_“Just yourself.”_ ** _  
_

“Oh, I never go anywhere empty-handed.” 

_Too bad I can’t ask her to leave that weapon of a handbag home. Hmmm...I’ll ask her to bring the wine. A food critic will certainly know her wine._

**_“How about a nice bottle of wine then?”_ ** _  
_

“White or red?” 

_Hells bells! I haven’t made my final decision yet. Just bring any kind. We’re not that fussy - as long as it’s alcohol. I have a feeling we’re going to need it._

Wanda hesitated. 

“What are you planning on serving, Wanda?” 

**_“I’ve not decided yet, thought I'm leaning towards a beef roast. Is there anything you fancy in particular?”  
_ **

“Wanda, please don’t treat me like company. If all goes well, I’m going to be part of the family. How about a rose? That should cover all potential entrees.” 

_That sounds brilliant! So now I don’t have to agonize over the wine. It won’t matter if I make the roast chicken or the roast beef. I just need to roast something._

**_“Jolly good. Now, what I want to stress is that we must act like we’re meeting for the first time, Donna. We can’t have Ben suspect that we know each other. Tim will be easy as you two have already been introduced.”_ ** _  
_

“That won’t be a problem. I can act!” 

**_“Really? Benedict never mentioned you had acting experience.”_**

“I was in all the plays at school. I played Sandy in our high school production of _Grease_ ,” said Donna proudly. 

_Bloody hell. She’s talking about when she was in school.  
_

“We sold all our tickets and raised over a thousand dollars for the church building fund. Father Matt was delighted. He said it was my voice that brought them all in, but I know he was only kidding.” _  
_

_I wasn’t planning on having a sing-along_ , thought Wanda. _Perhaps I should reconsider._

“I’m a card-carrying member of Actor’s Equity.” _  
_

**_“Really?”  
_ **

_She had one for a bloody high school play?_

“When I worked part time at Disney, I was in a couple of their live shows and needed one.” 

_Well, that makes more sense._

**_“I had no idea.”_ ** _  
_

_And I bet Ben didn’t know either.  
_

**_“You can tell us all about your experience on Sunday then. I’m going to ring off now and let you get back to your dinner then. Cheers!”_ ** _  
_

“I won’t let you down, Wanda! You’ll think I’m a fellow actress.” 

_From your mouth to God’s ears_ , thought Wanda Ventham as she rang off.

 

***********************************************************

 Andrew Scott finished washing his hands and ventured out into the hallway. He noticed that Donna’s bedroom door was shut, and he could hear her muffled voice from within. Benedict was in the kitchen filling the dishwasher with their dirty dinner dishes. 

“She’s deserted you then?” laughed Andrew. “Let me give you a hand.” 

“Not exactly,” replied Benedict. “She had to take a business call. I’m just about done here.” 

Andrew perched on one of the breakfast bar stools and regarded Benedict for a minute before deciding how he wanted to broach the subject of the NDA. 

_We need to discuss this, but I need to approach it tactfully,_ thought Andrew. _I don’t want to hurt his feelings, yet he needs to know that I’m a bit concerned. I shouldn’t have admitted I was Moriarty, but it just seemed silly to continue to deny it when the star of the show confirmed it._

“I really hope word doesn’t somehow get back to Mark, Beryl or Steven about our violating the NDA,” Andrew began in a neutral tone of voice. 

“You didn’t violate anything. I was the one who let it slip,” sighed Benedict, rubbing the back of his neck. “Not one of my prouder moments.” 

“I probably should have denied it, but didn’t see the sense in doing that. It was pretty hard to deny something that you so obviously blurted out….” 

“Without thinking,” finished Benedict, while pouring some liquid detergent into the dish washer. “I used to be absolute rubbish when it comes to keeping secrets. However, I’ve been informed by my mother that I’m actually getting a bit better at it.” 

Andrew chuckled. “I do find that hard to believe, Ben.” 

Benedict shrugged. “It’s not really that big of a deal if Donna only tells her family. I just worry about it getting back to Mark in particular, since she’s working with him.” 

“In what capacity?” asked Andrew. 

“Mark’s a fairly regular customer at Carldonn. He’s in there quite often.” 

“I can’t see them chatting about _Sherlock_. Mark wouldn’t have reason to bring it up,” said Andrew. “Besides, all his time is being taken up by _Dr. Who_ right now as they're shooting one of his scripts.” 

“True. However, Mark is interested in having Carldonn do the catering for _Dr. Who_. Apparently, their caterer is shit; so Donna suggested she and Carly take over.” 

“They don’t know anything about catering for a film crew!” exclaimed Andrew. “Sounds like a recipe for disaster to me.” 

“Neither of them have a clue as to what’s involved. We discussed it in the car on the way back to London. Donna’s fairly confident they can pull it off. My girlfriend can be quite headstrong when she’s got her eye set on something. She’s got a quote already prepared. All she needs is Carly’s blessing. Then they’ll have Mark submit the proposal to Steve, as the final decision is his.” 

“Sounds rather daft to me,” commented Andrew. 

“What sounds daft?” asked Donna, who had just returned to the kitchen area. 

Benedict and Andrew exchanged looks. 

“Nothing worth repeating,” said Benedict dismissively. 

“Just shop talk,” added Andrew. “Actors love nothing more than to talk about their craft.” 

“I could swear I heard you mention Carldonn,” said Donna, looking at Benedict pointedly. 

“Nope. I was talking about the actor who plays Carl in _Cabin Pressure_ ,” he said matter of factly. “Now, I believe you wanted a lesson in the correct way to brew a proper cup of tea.” 

 

************************************************************  


 

Andrew had returned to take his place at the dining room table, while Benedict and Donna busied themselves in the kitchen. Benedict filled the induction kettle with water and switched it on, while Donna got out clean plates, cup and saucers. 

Neither of them heard the Skype chime ringing on Donna’s laptop over the clatter they were making opening and closing the cabinets. 

“Darlin’ you seem to have a call coming in,” said Andrew as Donna’s land line began to ring at the same time. 

Donna answered the phone and appeared to be having a serious conversation. She had opened one of the cabinets and was consulting a calendar that was hanging on the inside of the door. Benedict was preoccupied with heating the tea pot and warming milk. 

Andrew took a look at Donna’s laptop screen and saw that it was “Drama Critic” calling.

_Oh, it’s Donna’s dad calling from New York.  
_

“Donna, it’s your dad. Shall I answer it for you?” 

There was no response. Donna kept flipping through the calendar, while Benedict was perusing Donna’s tea selection and shaking his head in disgust. 

_I guess I’ll answer it for her then. She wouldn’t have left it on if she didn’t want to speak with him.  
_

Andrew clicked on the icon and the screen was filled with the faces of Antonia and Neil Saint James. They were sitting in what appeared to be an office. Donna’s father was sitting behind a large, oak desk in an executive leather chair; and her mother was perched on the arm of the chair. 

“Hello from London!” said Andrew brightly. “You must be Donna’s parents.” He gave them a wide smile.

Antonia and Neil quickly exchanged glances. Andrew noticed that her mother ever-so-subtly touched her husband’s shoulder. 

“Hello from New York,” Donna’s father said in a jovial manner. “I’m Neil Saint James and this is my wife, Antonia.” 

“Please call me Toni. Everyone does.” 

“How nice to _finally_ meet you,” continued Neil pleasantly. 

“Same here,” agreed Andrew. “I’m Andrew Scott. Donna has told me so much about you both, I feel as if I know you.” 

Andrew noticed that Donna’s father had written something down on a yellow lined pad in front of him. 

Antonia Saint James smiled thinly. “I wish we could say the same. I’m afraid our daughter is fond of keeping us in the dark.” 

“Speaking of which, where _is_ Donna?” asked Neil. 

“She’s on the phone,” replied Andrew, looking over his shoulder and waving at Benedict in an attempt to garner his attention. “I’m sure she won’t be long.”

_I'll just keep them company until Donna finishes her call.  They look and seem nice enough._

"So how's the weather in New York?"

"It's July, so its hot," quipped Neil.  "Today's also on the humid side."

"We're expecting thunderstorms late this afternoon, so that should cool things down," replied Toni. "What's it like in London?  Cooler than here, I imagine."

Andrew giggled.  "We've had much warmer weather than usual.  I'm actually quite thrilled to be living in a building with central air con for a change."

He watched as Neil made yet another note on the pad in front of him. 

“I love your accent,” said Toni. “What part of Ireland are you from?” 

“Born and raised in Dublin. Have you ever been to the UK?” 

“Many times. My husband is part English and still has family outside of London.” 

“Not a lot of family,” embellished Neil. “My father has one brother left. He lives in Brighton along with some cousins. Most of the family immigrated to the US years ago.” 

“Have you ever been to Dublin?” inquired Andrew. 

 

*******************************************************

 

Donna hung up the phone and joined Benedict at the counter. 

“Alright?” 

“Yeah. That was Kelsey, our bookkeeper. She wanted to make sure we were still having the _Dr. Who_ catering meeting at one tomorrow.” 

_Carly’s husband left me a voice mail about that meeting. I’ll ring him back when I leave,_ thought Benedict.   He smiled at Donna and rubbed his hands together. 

“Are you ready for your tea brewing lesson then?” 

“Yep. Impress me, Mr. Cumberbatch.” 

“Well, first of all, the teapot needs to be warmed with hot water. Then you should use loose tea for the best flavor…” 

Donna touched his arm. “Who is Andrew talking to?” 

Benedict looked in the direction of the dining room area. Andrew seemed to be laughing and talking quite animatedly to Donna’s laptop screen. 

“I always went to that pub when I lived at home!” said Andrew. “It really is the best in the city.” 

“Well, after that issue with the lamb shanks, the manager agreed to take it off our bill,” came the voice of Antonia Saint James from the laptop microphone. “After all, it did ruin our vacation experience.” 

_NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! It’s Mom and Dad! Andrew’s talking with Mom and Dad – and they’re all laughing.  
_

Benedict noticed the alarmed expression on Donna’s pretty face. _  
_

“Love, are you alright? You look quite pale,” asked Benedict with concern. 

“I thought the Skype was turned off!” She cried. 

“No. It wasn’t. You left it on when I last looked at the screen,” replied Benedict as he opened a tin of loose English Breakfast tea. “Since you seem to favour tea bags, we’ll use this for my demonstration…” 

“No! I thought I had turned it off. I must have gotten distracted. Do you realize Andrew’s talking to my parents?” 

“I didn’t hear the Skype chime,” said Benedict as he scooped up some tea leaves into a measuring spoon. “This pot has a built in strainer, which is good for a tea novice. I personally prefer a tea ball, but this will have to make do. My dad uses…” 

_Tea novice? What in the fuck is he waffling on about? My parents are grilling Andrew, and he’s worried that I don’t have a fucking tea ball!_

“I use one teaspoon per cup, plus one for the pot…” 

“I didn’t hear the Skype chime either! Shit! They must have called while I was on the phone, and you were getting the tea stuff out. Why did he have to answer it?” moaned Donna. 

Benedict rolled his eyes. “Perhaps Andrew thought he was doing you a favour and answered it. You know there _are_ other types of tea besides English Breakfast. If given a choice, I prefer Earl Grey - not too strong with a thin slice of lemon. You might fancy...” 

“Some favor! This is the last thing I wanted,” snapped Donna. “I wanted to ease them into the idea of my being in a relationship; but now everything just went to hell.” 

Benedict and Donna paused to listen to the conversation Andrew was having with Donna’s mother. 

“Oh, my mum makes the best colcannon,” enthused Andrew. “I think it’s the fried onions she puts in. I can just eat the whole pot. I really miss her cooking.” 

“There’s nothing like good home cooking,” said Toni. 

“Toni will have to make you one of her famous manicotti dinners,” said Neil.

"I can't say that I've ever had manicotti," mused Andrew. "Is it a pasta yes?"

“A pasta tube stuffed with a filling of ricotta and mozzarella that's covered with tomato sauce, more mozzarella and baked."

"I also sprinkle some freshly grated parmigiano reggiano cheese over the top so it develops a nice, golden brown crust," added Toni.

"You're truly making my mouth water!" said Andrew.

"Toni actually makes her own pasta dough – not those crepes that everyone makes in order to take the easy way out."

"That sounds divine," remarked Benedict.  "Do you think your mum will make that for me one day?"

"Shush!" snapped Donna. "I just can't believe they're having this conversation!"

"My mother always maintains that the crepes are the easy way out," affirmed Toni.  "They may be faster, but they can be tough. The extra effort is definitely worth it when you make your own pasta."

"Not even the finest Italian restaurant in New York can compare with my wife’s cooking,” said Neil, looking at this wife adoringly. 

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Neil,” laughed Toni, gently poking his arm. 

“Ah, you two remind me of my folks,” smiled Andrew. 

_NO. NO THEY DON’T. I’m willing to bet your parents are NOTHING like these two!_

“Sounds like they’re having a perfectly lovely conversation,” commented Benedict abstractedly. “You worry too much. Ah, the kettles’ boiled.” 

The induction kettle began to whistle. Benedict switched it off. 

_Oh, I don’t worry nearly enough, you dear, naive man. You haven’t been taking anything I’ve been telling you seriously. Just wait until it’s your turn to sit in the witness chair.  
_

“It’s very important that the water be boiling,” Benedict instructed as he began to pour the water over the tea leaves. The key to a proper cup of tea is in how long you brew it. It shouldn’t be too long or it will be bitter…” 

“I don’t give a damn about the fucking tea!” exclaimed Donna with finality. “We’re going to have to put dessert on hold while I figure out how to end that call before they go too far.” 

Benedict stared at Donna incredulously and slapped the countertop with the palm of his hand in frustration. “For fucks sake, Donna! How bad can they be?” 

“Bad.” 

“Oh, _please_! Spare me the how-awful-they-are stories. Andrew seems to be having a perfectly civil chat with them. All I hear is laughter.” 

“They’re all laughing _now_. The interrogation hasn’t started in earnest yet. I just want to spare _you_ the ordeal.” 

Benedict looked truly perplexed. “What ordeal? So they’ll ask me some questions – what’s wrong with that? We’re in a serious, committed relationship, Donna. Don’t you think they have a right to meet the man who’s in love with their daughter? If I were them, I’d be curious as to what my daughter’s boyfriend is like.” 

“Benedict, you’re not grasping…” 

“I don’t find anything at all unusual in their wanting to get acquainted with me.” 

“This is the honeymoon phase of the discussion.” 

Benedict reached out and patted Donna’s hand reassuringly. “Of course you’re nervous. It’s only natural. I assure you that I’m going to be in the same boat Sunday when you meet my mother,” he chuckled. “And then you’ll be the one comforting me.” 

_Well, you’re not comforting me right now. There’s no comparing our parents. Besides, I already know yours. Not to mention I’m going to be nervous about keeping the plan a secret from you. God, I hope I don’t screw it up.  
_

“Don’t worry, Darling. I promise not to embarrass you.” 

“It’s not _you_ I’m worried about.” 

“Listen. All I hear is pleasant conversation and laughter. Honestly, Donna, you make them sound like absolute ogres!” 

“So, Andrew, what line of work are you in?” came Neil Saint James’ voice. 

_NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! That’s it! The first question in the inquisition is always: so what line of work are you in? They think Andrew is my boyfriend!_

“Holy shit! They think he’s my boyfriend!” 

Benedict Cumberbatch laughed and headed towards the dining area. 

“Then I think it’s time they met your real boyfriend,” he said over his shoulder. “Don’t you?” 

_No, Benedict, I don’t,_ thought Donna as she scooted past him and around the table. 

“I’m an actor,” Andrew was saying. 

Neil frowned and made another note on the pad. Then he gazed up at Toni, who patted his shoulder. 

_He just took another note. He’s been doing that whenever I say something about myself,_ thought Andrew. _That’s a bit weird.  I feel like I'm at an interview, except there's no photographer present.  
_

“Would you say that you’re a _working_ actor?” inquired Neil with a raised eyebrow. _  
_

“Hi!” said Donna brightly, pushing Andrew’s chair out of the way. The heavy chair was on casters, so it moved easily without scratching the highly polished wooden floors. 

“What the fuck!” cried a surprised Andrew Scott as he slid out of Neil and Toni’s view.

 

******************************************************************************

  

Neil and Antonia Saint James watched with a combination of amusement and shock as Andrew Scott suddenly slid out of view. They looked at each and shook their heads in unison. 

“Seems she doesn’t want us talking to him,” whispered Toni. 

“Did you see his face when she pushed the chair out of the way?” laughed Neil. 

Toni giggled. “I’ve never seen anyone so surprised in my life. Though it isn’t funny, Neil.” 

“Then why are you laughing?” 

“I’m not. I’m just trying to contain myself.” 

Neil took her hand in his and kissed the top. “In other words, you’re trying not to laugh.” 

“He’s an actor.” 

“I heard. I’ve got it all here,” said Neil, gesturing to the pad in front of him. 

“No wonder she swooped in like a bat out of hell!   She wanted to be the one to break it to us.” 

“That’s because Donna knows how thrilled I wouldn’t be that she was seeing another actor,” scoffed Neil. “I was praying for an accountant.” 

“He seems nice enough,” said Toni. “He’s certainly nice-looking. He sort of reminds me of a puppy. His eyes are reminiscent of Paul McCartney’s, don’t you think?” 

Neil shook his head. “He is definitely easy on the eyes. However, I was hoping against hope that this time Donna would wind up with someone in a more …normal profession.” 

“Shhh, she’s going to hear you.”

"Frankly, I don't care.  I hate the thought of having an actor for a son-in-law one day.  He'll be expecting favors and preferential treatment because of my position."

 "There's no written rule that a critic with an actor son-in-law has to automatically praise their performances.  Besides, you only review the high profile shows and films now. While he seems nice enough, does Andrew strike you as having the potential to become a world-famous actor?"

Neil Saint James looked up at his wife and snickered.  "Not in the slightest.  I see supporting roles in TV shows, films and West End plays. I'll call Rod when we're done to see what he can tell us about Mr. Scott."

"If she had to fall for another actor, at least she could have picked one with the potential to become famous."

"Donna fared better with singers.  Look at Danny Manganero."

 

******************************************************************************************

 

 “Donna!” bellowed Benedict as he watched her shove the chair Andrew had been sitting on so that he was out of camera range. 

“Bloody hell!” exclaimed Andrew. “What are you doing, Darlin’?” 

“Let me handle this!” hissed Donna, stepping in front of the camera. 

Andrew got up and whispered to Benedict. “I’m going to leave you to get acquainted with her folks. They seem nice enough, except that the father was taking notes.” 

Benedict looked taken aback. “Why in the hell would he be taking notes?” 

Andrew shrugged. “Haven’t a clue. See you at the costume fittings.” 

“Yeah. Should be interesting to see what they have in mind for us.”

 

***********************************************************

 

 Donna bent down so her parents could see her. She noticed that they were in her father’s office. 

“Hi Muffin,” said Neil. “What happened to Andrew?” 

“He seems to have slid right out from under us, so to speak,” snickered Toni. “Don’t you want us to talk to him?” 

_No, I don’t._ _I see Dad’s got the pad ready to take notes so Mom can have him checked out the minute the call is over. Nothing changes.  
_

“Of course not! Where would you get such a silly idea?” Donna nervously glanced back over her shoulder to see Benedict and Andrew whispering. 

“Then aren’t we going to finish our conversation?” inquired Neil pleasantly. 

“Andrew is quite the conversationalist,” commented Toni. 

Donna motioned for Andrew to join her and Benedict to stay put. Andrew crouched next to Donna and smiled disarmingly at Neil and Toni. 

_Someone else is in the apartment with them,_ thought Neil and Toni at the same time. They exchanged meaningful glances. 

“So how long have you two been dating?” asked Toni. 

Andrew started to laugh. “Oh, Donna and I aren’t dating, Toni. I live across the hall with my partner, Stephen. Actually, I was just about to leave.” 

Neil and Toni nodded understandingly. Donna saw her mother's finger barely touch Neil's arm.

_Mom's relieved. They were concerned when he said he was an actor._   

“It was lovely to finally meet you both,” said Andrew. “I’ll be going then. Cheers!” 

“Likewise,” agreed Toni. “Hopefully, one day we’ll get to meet in person.”

"If you're ever in New York, give us a call," said Neil.  

Donna watched as Benedict saw Andrew to the door. She gave Benedict a quick once-over. He was wearing light blue, knee-length denim shorts and short-sleeved navy blue cotton, open-collared shirt. His feet were bare, having taken off the brown leather slip-on moccasins when he came in. He was clean-shaven and his auburn curls attractively tousled and fallen over his forehead. 

_Thank God he’s not wearing anything weird!   They can’t find fault with his appearance. Time to face the music._

Donna reluctantly turned her attention back to her parents, as she picked up the laptop and headed into the living room area. 

“I’m so glad that Andrew was able to keep you company while I was on the phone. I’m just taking you into the living room with me, so my apologies if the picture starts to bounce. How are you guys doing?” 

Her parents looked at each other and shrugged. Neil put down the pen and regarded his daughter as she settled on the couch and placed the laptop on the coffee table. 

“We’re fine, Muffin,” he said with a slight frown. “And as much as your mother and I enjoyed chatting with Andrew, we were under the impression that you were going to introduce us to the man you’ve been seeing.” 

Donna cringed as her mother came right to the point. “Donna, is there any reason why you’re so reluctant to tell us about him? Is there something wrong with him?” 

“Christ! I certainly hope not!” Benedict chuckled in his deep baritone voice as he crossed the room and sat beside Donna on the couch. 

Donna felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end as her parents regarded the young man before them. 

_I love how they are studying him as if he were a lab specimen, Dad looks particularly interested, which is odd. Shit! Dad just picked up the pen._

Benedict flashed Neil and Antonia Saint James his most winning smile. 

“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Saint James. I’m Benedict Cumberbatch.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Giada DeLaurentiis is a celebrity chef and cookbook author in the United States. She has several TV shows on the air. I make her chocolate nutella cookie recipe, which is delicious - especially since I add chocolate chips to mine! Here is the recipe: http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/giada-de-laurentiis/chocolate-hazelnut-biscotti-recipe.html  
> 2\. I'm not familiar with how NDA's work. I make it up as I go along to fit the story.  
> 3\. I apologize for an inconsistencies in plot line.  
> 4\. Neil Saint James is a fictional character - his opinions/comments are all his own.  
> 5\. I'm half Italian, and the comments about manicotti crepes vs making one's own pasta were those of my late Grandmother, bless her soul.  
> 6\. Next week: Benedict gets his wish for a meet and greet with Neil and Antonia. Will he be sorry?


	74. Chapter 74

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Benedict finally meets his nemeses aka Donna’s parents on Skype, which sets off alarm bells for many. 
> 
> Warning: There are comments re religion in this chapter, so if easily offended, please skip.

 

Donna Saint James noticed the barely perceptible flash of recognition as her father laid eyes on Benedict Cumberbatch. 

_He recognizes Benedict! How can that be? Benedict isn’t known in the US!  
_

Neil Saint James sat up straighter in his executive swivel chair and made a note on the pad in front of him. Donna watched as he angled the pad carefully, so her mother could read what he had written. Toni blinked in surprise and then briefly looked as though she were struggling to suppress a smirk. 

_I wonder what he wrote? She has that slightly amused – and not in a good way - look around her mouth._

“These are my parents, Benedict. Neil and Antonia Saint James. Mom, Dad, Benedict is my boyfriend.” 

_Good gravy! My voice sounded so squeaky…like Minnie Mouse. I need to project calmness or they are going to pick up on it. Like they haven’t already – who am I kidding?  
_

Benedict gave Donna a concerned sideways glance. 

_Donna’s voice sounds as if it’s about to crack. She’s very uptight about this meet and greet. They look utterly normal – just like their photos. Her mother is very beautiful – that will be Donna in thirty years or so. I still have this nagging feeling in the back of my mind that I’ve seen her father before…but where? To my knowledge we’ve never met._

Neil inclined his head ever-so-slightly at Benedict in greeting.

“Please call me Neil, Benedict.” 

“Everyone calls me Toni,” said Donna’s mother with a warm smile. 

Donna blinked in surprise at her parents' words.

_How refreshing! They asked him to use their first names! This is definitely a step in the right direction. All my other boyfriends had to call them Mr. and Mrs. Saint James. So far, so good…but they’ve only uttered a total of nine words. There's plenty of time for their real selves to shine through._

“Antonia is such a lovely name,” commented Benedict thougthfully, his deep voice smooth and honeyed. “So, with your permission, I’d like to address you as Antonia.” 

Toni smiled almost shyly at Benedict and nodded her consent.  Neil glanced up at his wife with what Donna thought was thinly veiled disgust. 

“Thank you. I’ll make sure to tell my parents that you approve of the name they chose for me."

_Mom liked that. I can tell by the way she changed her posture. It’s his voice. His voice has that effect on women. I've seen it many times now. Hell, it has that effect on me!  Now, Dad, on the other hand, is seemingly immune to Benedict's voice and did not like his attempt to garner brownie points with her.  
_

Toni tucked her wavy, shoulder-length chestnut brown hair behind her ears, affording Benedict with a view of her two-carat each diamond stud earrings, and turned on her most charming smile.

_Holy shit!  Those earrings are huge!  One of them alone could pay off the mortgage on my flat!_ Thought Benedict.

"Now, what about you? Do you prefer Benedict or do you use Ben or Benny as a nickname?”

Donna caught Benedict flinching slightly at the mention of the nickname ‘Benny’. _  
_

_Oh, how he hates being called Benny! I’m glad Mom had the good sense to ask first.  
_

_Why does everyone feel compelled to use nicknames?_ Thought Benedict. _Do I look like a Benny for fucks sake? I can certainly live with Ben, but not Benny.  
_

“Truth be told, I actually prefer my given name of Benedict, which means blessing. My parents liked the sound of the name and felt slightly blessed because they’d been trying for a child for a very long time.” 

Neil made a note on his yellow pad, as Toni barely touched his sleeve. A slight frown creased her mother's brow. Donna looked at Benedict in disbelief. _  
_

_Why did you tell them that? Now, they’ll think your family has fertility issues! Oh, Benedict, that’s too much information._

“You were their blessing – how sweet!” Exclaimed Toni. “I happen to like Benedict. It’s such a different name. Benjamin has become such a common name, like Michael was when we had our children.”   

“One of our parish priests is named Benedict,” added Donna. “Is Father Ben still there?” 

Neil nodded affirmatively, brown eyes glued to Benedict.  Donna noticed he was lightly tapping the pen on the desktop. 

“I’m not Catholic, so it’s not that,” Benedict said.

The pen tapping ceased as Neil hastily made another note. 

Donna noticed her mother’s finger barely touch her father’s sleeve once again. It was something that only the experienced Toni and Neil watcher would have observed. 

_What did that comment accomplish, except to arouse their curiosity further? He just lost a point on the religion front.  
_

“Benedict’s Anglican,” chimed in Donna before Benedict could open his mouth. 

_Why should it matter what religion I am? Oh, look at their faces, Benedict! Apparently, it does.  Let me put their minds at ease._

“But not a practicing one,” added Benedict. “I much prefer the principles of Buddhism.” 

Neither Toni nor Neil said a word. They just stared at Benedict and then their gaze slowly shifted to Donna, who could read slight disapproval in their eyes. 

_Make that two points. This isn’t supposed to be happening! It’s too soon for a discussion of religion, which is none of their business._

“He's not a Buddhist - he just embraces the essence of it," clarified Donna quickly.

"Then what exactly are you, Benedict?" asked Neil, ignoring Donna's words.  "Excuse me if I'm a bit bewildered by your comment."

"I was born into the Anglican church," replied Benedict.  "When you think about it, it's actually very much..."

_Just tell them you're a non-practicing Anglican, Benedict!  Why does he feel the need to go into so much detail?_

_He's a non-practicing Anglican,_ thought Toni. _I'll add that to my list._

_I can_ _see Cumberbatch is incapable of giving one word answers. Heaven forbid he become famous and have to give interviews,_ thought Neil glumly. _I would pity the poor journalists stuck interviewing him!_

"Anglican's close enough for God’s sake!” Snapped Donna. “We’re not practicing Catholics by any means. We only go to church for weddings, funerals and major holidays!”

" _I_ consider us to be practicing," corrected Toni.  "Your grandparents go to mass _every_ Sunday."

_This isn't over yet, Mom!  Just wait until I can talk with you in private!_

_Did I happen to have a brain fart and miss a sentence or two_? Wondered Benedict. 

Neil sighed with a trace of impatience. “I never did catch what you prefer us to call you.” 

_Oh, Daddy, that’s because he hasn’t gotten to it yet. Give him time._ **  
**

“Oh, yeah. Right,” said Benedict, rubbing the back of his neck. “Anyway, my parents liked the idea of Benedict and Ben, the fact that it can be contracted. I believe Toby was their second choice….” 

_Toby? Toby Cumberbatch? Gosh, that’s awful!_ Thought Donna with amusement.   

She looked questioningly at Benedict, who shrugged and continued speaking. 

“….However, my family and closest friends do call me Ben, which is more or less fine with me. Actually, my parents use Ben and Benedict interchangeably. Sometimes in the same sentence, so I suppose either is actually fine. Yeah, I’m good with either. Benedict or Ben.” 

Donna watched as Benedict crossed and re-crossed his legs as he began to rub his thigh. 

“Donna calls me Benedict most of the time, don’t you, Love?” 

“Yes. I love your name.” 

“Other times she calls me Ben or …..” 

_Ben Honey, but that’s too personal to share with them. That’s Donna’s special loving nickname for me._

Toni and Neil were regarding him expectantly with raised eyebrows.

_Jesus Christ!  Just spit it out Cumberbatch!_ thought Neil with mounting frustration.

_How difficult is it for him to just give us a name?_   thought Toni. 

“Ben. Yeah. She sometimes calls me Ben. Mostly Benedict though.” 

_Eureka!  We have a name!_ thought Neil.

_That was nearly as bad as giving birth_ , thought Toni.  _I hope every answer isn't going to be like this._

_Nooooo. He’s nervous and starting to waffle. All he had to say is: ‘Ben or Benedict’ is fine. Mom looks like she wants to tell him to zip it. Dad’s got that bemused expression. I’m not getting good vibes from him. Here comes the ‘what line of work are you in?’ question.  
_

“How long have you and Donna been seeing each other?” asked Neil. 

_Holy cow! This isn’t how the First Interrogation of the New Boyfriend goes. They ask about work first! Actual relationship questions come near the end. What’s up with them?_

“We only recently found out you existed,” added Toni with clearly visible annoyance. “Like last night…quite by accident, I might add.” 

_Thanks for the dig, Mom; and you wonder why I never tell you two until I’m in a relationship._

Donna watched as Neil seemed to be doodling on the pad. 

_I wish you wouldn’t take notes, Dad! It really is so damn obvious - not to mention rude! Now would be a good time for him to slip in the so- what-do-you-do-for-a-living-Benedict question. I hate that they changed the order of their questions around._

Benedict rested his index finger on his upper lip as he considered his response.

  _Jesus Christ!  It's going to be one of those answers!_ thought Neil. _Just poke my eyes out now._

_I swear I'll be satisfied with the number of months,_ thought Toni. _Somehow I have a feeling we're in for another long-winded response._

“Oh, we met sometime in early spring…it may actually have been late winter for all I know. I’m rubbish when it comes to actual dates. It was before my parents’ wedding anniversary, which is in April. The end of April to be exact….the twenty-seventh. Yeah, the twenty-seventh. As a matter of fact, Mum and Dad just celebrated thirty-three years together, which is quite extraordinary in itself. Yeah. It was definitely before then…but …March? I believe it was sometime in March because the air still had that winter nippiness to it…it must have been early March though. Yeah…” 

_Nippiness? Is that a word? I need to cut to the quick before he waffles himself into the ground.  I can see Mom and Dad's patience starting to wane.  
_

“We met on March first, to be exact,” interrupted Donna, patting Benedict’s knee at bit harder than she should have. “We were seated at the same communal table at Jamie Oliver’s restaurant, Barbecoa; and the rest is history!” 

_That’s how you answer them, Benedict. Short and to the point._

Benedict looked at her and smiled. 

“March first was it then?” 

Donna nodded and returned the smile. “It sure was. I’ll never forget that night.” 

“That’s very romantic, Darling,” Benedict said to Donna. Then he smiled self-deprecatingly at the camera. “I’m absolute rubbish when it comes to remembering dates. I always have to be reminded.” 

_Jeez Benedict! You just told them that! He needs to stop trying to elaborate._

Neil cleared his throat as made another note. “They have automatic reminders that you can set up on your laptop calendar – if you have one.” 

“They work beautifully!” said Toni, smoothing her skirt over her slim thighs. 

“Erm…yeah. I suppose mine does have that feature…though I’ve had it for an age. I’ll be sure to check it out once I’m home. Thanks for the tip.” 

“Where is home?” inquired Toni, leaning over to pick up a mug from her husband’s desk. She took a sip and waited for Benedict to respond. 

_Oh, Benedict, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll simply tell them ‘London’_ , thought Donna. 

“Hampstead. I live in a flat that’s just a short walk to Hampstead Heath. Are you familiar with North London at all?” 

_Wrong answer for Benedict, correct answer for Mom._ Donna watched as her father began to write on the pad. 

_So far, so good_ , thought Benedict. _They aren’t asking me anything so unusual. The taking notes is a bit weird though. Andrew was right about them. It almost feel as if I’m being interviewed for a bloody magazine or newspaper article.  
_

Neil nodded. “Yes. One of my best friends lives in Hampstead. You must certainly know of him, Benedict. Rodney Renfield.” 

Donna noted Benedict immediately stiffened, and he compressed his lips into a thin line. 

_Rodney Motherfucking Renfield - oh I certainly do know that wanker._

“Erm..Yeah. I know who he is. He’s the former theatre critic for the London Times,” said Benedict as his face briefly clouded over. 

Donna felt alarm as Benedict uttered those words with obvious distaste. 

_Oooooo he knows Uncle Rodney, and he doesn’t seem particularly fond of him.  
_

“It was a sad day for the London Theatre Scene when Rod retired,” Neil lamented. “He was one of our finest critics.” _  
_

_And it was a happy day for all actors when the bastard retired,_ thought Benedict _. I will never forget the review he gave of Dad when he was in Mary Goes First last year. He had the bollocks to refer to his performance as ‘unremarkable’.  
_

“His reviews will be sorely missed,” continued Neil. 

_Not by me they won’t!_ Thought Benedict. _Let’s just hope his replacement isn’t as bad.  
_

“His editor proclaimed him a National Treasure.” 

_That ‘treasure’ should have been buried at sea in a chest bound with chains!  
_

“I only hope that his replacement will do him justice,” remarked Neil, brushing a piece of imaginary lint off his tie. 

“Let’s hope _not_ ,” muttered Benedict under his breath. 

“Excuse me?” said Neil sharply. “I didn’t catch what you said, Benedict.” 

“I said he’ll certainly be a tough act to follow – pardon my pun,” retorted Benedict with a bitter laugh. 

Neil frowned at Benedict. “Spoken like a true actor,” he smirked. “Always thin-skinned when it comes to critics.” 

Donna stared at her father. Neil was regarding Benedict with a steely glint in his eyes. Benedict had clenched his jaw, and she could see the pulse in his cheek throb. 

_Daddy somehow already knows Benedict is an actor! That’s why no what-do-you-do questions. He already knew. This is not going the way it was supposed to.  
_

“Au contraire, one has to develop _very_ thick skin when it comes to critics,” shot back Benedict, meeting the older man’s gaze. 

“One only needs thick-skin if one consistently gives a lousy performance. Otherwise, there’s nothing to be uptight about, wouldn’t you agree, Benedict?” 

Benedict narrowed his ice blue eyes at Donna’s father. His thoughts immediately returned to the summer of 2002, when he had been in three open air productions in Regents Park. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle and goosebumps forming on his arms. 

_I wonder. Could it be him? Not likely. He’s in the States…but still. Mum and Dad will certainly know for sure.  
_

“Critics are sometimes wrong in their assessment of an actor’s performance.” 

“Not in my experience,” declared Neil haughtily. “The Times prides itself on the ability of our critics to nail each and every performance reviewed.” 

_Wait. Donna did mention that he used to be a critic for the New York Times before he got that big promotion to Editor of the ....I think it was the Arts and Leisure Section! Oh, Benedict, you are such a clueless dolt at times. Of course, he’s been a critic – that would make perfect sense. I’m just going to make sure._

“Ah, so you were once a critic then yes?” 

Neil nodded affirmatively. “I’ve been a film, theatre and television critic over the course of my career here at the Times. The theatre desk was always my personal favorite.” 

“Have you ever regretted any of your reviews?” 

“Only when I wasn’t harsher,” Neil chortled. “I’ve suffered through some God-awful things in my tenure – haven’t I, Toni?” 

“There’s no question that the untalented performers far outweigh the talented ones,” Toni replied, laughing along with him. “Jonathan Central is a stunning example of untalented, right, Muffin?” 

_Jeez! Now, she’s going to bring up all my actor ex-boyfriends! She is right about Jonathan though. Let’s hope she stops here._

“True,” conceded Donna in a small voice. “Benedict is an extremely talented actor.”

_In your opinion, Daughter,_ thought Neil. _I know better.  I've seen him in action._

Donna caught the smirk on Neil's face.

_Donna's said that about every jerk she ever brought home who professed to be an actor,_ thought Toni.

“Dad and I ran into Jonathan in Eataly last week while standing in line at the gelato counter…” 

_Well that was certainly Jonathan’s unlucky day_ , thought Donna glumly. 

“…He’s still sponging off his parents,” said Toni with barely concealed contempt. 

“While he’s waiting for the big break that’s _never_ going to come,” added Neil, voice dripping with sarcasm. “I told him he’s going to have a long wait, so he may as well get a _real_ job.” 

Benedict felt anger welling up inside of him. _So, acting isn’t a real job according to Mr. Critic Almighty. How dare he? We work our arses off to entertain the likes of him, and he tears our performances to pieces!_

“Daddy! You didn’t tell him that! Did you?” asked Donna nervously. 

“Of course, I did. Why wouldn’t I? The little jerk couldn’t act if his life depended on it.” 

“I’m sure there were times when you were wrong?” ventured Benedict with a raised eyebrow. 

_Shut up Benedict! Please stop challenging Dad! You will never get the last word with him. This is a nightmare!_

“I’m proud to say that I was _never_ wrong when I was working as a critic,” Neil said with complete confidence. “It’s always been my policy to go into a play, film or TV viewing with an open mind.” 

_Aren’t you a right cocky bastard?_ Thought Benedict. 

“An actor can only do so much with the material they have to work with,” Benedict pointed out in a defensive tone. 

“A _good_ actor will be able to rise above a shitty script and make the performance his own.” 

“There are times when even the best actor can’t turn around a crap script,” insisted Benedict. 

“Then the actor should refuse the job in the first place.” 

“Have you ever considered that sometimes the actor may just be starting out and doesn’t have the luxury of picking and choosing which roles to accept or that he needs the work in order to eat and have a roof over his head?” bristled Benedict.  

Neil tossed his head and laughed sardonically. “That’s why there are waiter jobs – so an actor doesn’t have to take whatever bone is thrown at him.” 

“I assure you, Sir, that I’ve paid my dues many times over!” snapped Benedict. “I’ve waited tables in many a restaurant in London. I’ve worked for a caterer as a waiter and in an assortment of shops, including a perfumery, in order to make ends meet while I waited for work to come my way…and if it meant occasionally accepting roles in inferior works so I could gain experience – so be it! I’m in this for the longevity. I want to be in a position of being offered ever-challenging roles, which will enable me to hone my craft.” 

“I’m glad to hear you’re not afraid of doing whatever it takes and that you plan to be in this profession for the long haul. Ambition is an admirable – and necessary - trait in an actor.” 

Both men stared at each other. Donna watched as her mother took the yellow-lined pad and began to furiously make notes. 

“As well as arrogance,” added Neil. "You seem to have an abundance of both." 

_It has to be him,_ thought Benedict, clenching his jaw. _I need to ask before I burst.  
_

_Uncle Rodney! That’s how Dad knows about Benedict. Uncle Rodney has obviously seen and reviewed things he was in. Dad and Uncle Rodney always email and speak several times a day. Perhaps he gave Benedict a bad review in the past, and Benedict is holding a grudge? My head is whirling.  
_

“Aren’t you supposed to be in court, Mom?” 

Toni looked up from the pad. “No. My calendar is clear for the rest of the day. I had to be in court this morning. Afterwards I met up with Dad for lunch at John’s. The pizza crust was a bit on the charred side today, so we had to send it back…” 

_Of course you did, Mom. I bet it was comped, too, after you spoke with the manager._

“…The second one was fine, and Mauricio comped it as an apology. Then we came back here to have our Skype visit with you and Benedict.” 

_Shit on toast. This is getting worse by the minute. Benedict looks like he wants to smack Dad.  
_

“Have you ever had the opportunity to work in London, Neil?” asked Benedict, scratching his earlobe. 

“Yeah, as a matter of fact I have. I’ve often volunteered to pinch hit in the London office when they’ve been short-staffed due to illness or while waiting to fill a vacancy. I really enjoy it. It’s a chance to have a working vacation – not that I consider what I do work.” 

_You right bastard. You try to ruin people’s careers with that poison pen of yours,_ thought Benedict angrily. _I’ve got to somehow carve out time in my schedule to get over to Kensington – I really need to look through Mum’s scrapbooks. Not to mention I’ve got to get into their PC.  
_

Toni smiled at Benedict. “There’s a wonderful little theatre in Hampstead that I recall going to on our last visit. I wish I could recall the name.” 

“It’s called Hampstead Theatre, and it’s technically in Swiss Cottage,” said Benedict. 

“Benedict took me there to see a production,” injected Donna. “It’s not a huge theatre, so it’s a much more intimate experience.” 

“The more intimate the venue, the easier it is to see the physical flaws of a production,” commented Neil. _  
_

Donna could see that her mother was looking a bit uncomfortable. She gently laid an index finger on Neil’s forearm. 

_Oh, that’s the signal for Dad to shut up and change the subject. Thanks, Mom! For once._

“Were you born in London, Benedict?” asked Neil. “I detect a trace of Manchester in your accent.” 

Benedict nodded. “Yeah. I was born in Hammersmith in Queen Charlotte’s Hospital. I went to Uni in Manchester and picked up the accent.” 

“It’s a shame you never got rid of it,” smirked Neil. “Have you seen a speech pathologist about that speech impediment of yours?” 

_What speech impediment? What in the world is my father talking about?_

“It’s barely noticeable,” assured Toni. “I bet it could be easily corrected with just a few sessions.” 

_What’s barely noticeable???? Benedict speaks beautifully!_

Donna looked horrified. “Mom! Dad! I thought you wanted to meet Benedict, _not_ give him the third degree!” 

Benedict patted Donna’s hand. She could feel that his palm was moist and trembled slightly.  She could hear him grinding his teeth together. 

“That’s a fair question, Donna. Yeah, I’ve got a lisp; and I’ve been examined by a speech pathologist.” 

_A lisp??? I never noticed that he has a lisp. I’m going to have to listen more carefully to him._

“It’s a case of my tongue being too big for my mouth. I’m quite aware of it and able to control it most of the time; but if I’m tired or nervous, it becomes readily apparent.” 

Neil covered his mouth to hide the smile that threatened to form. 

“Are we making you nervous, Benedict?” inquired Toni with a slight frown. “That’s the last thing Neil and I want.” 

_Oh, mother, please stop that! It’s exactly what you and Dad want!  
_

Benedict smiled nervously at the camera, uncrossed his legs and began to rub the back of his neck. 

“Wouldn’t _you_ be nervous if _you_ were meeting the parents of the woman you were in love with for the first time?” 

Toni pursed her lips and nodded understandingly. “So, you and Donna have been seeing each other for almost five months?” 

_Ms. Saint James, Attorney for the Prosecution, will now begin her line of questioning. Why did I have to hit ‘reply to all’? I should have sprained my wrist that night rather than my ankle._

“Ah..yeah. It’ll be five months come next month, which is coming up very soon…” replied Benedict, patting his thigh. “It’s been awhile now…I…I…we couldn’t be happier…may I speak on your behalf, Darling?” 

_I’ll be damned. He does have a slight lisp. Why have I not noticed it before?  
_

“Yes, you can, Ben Honey.” 

Benedict beamed at her. Donna caught her parents’ mutual eye roll. 

_I caught the eye rolls. Like you two never use any endearments when speaking to each other._

“Right then. We’re very much in love and just completely over the moon.” 

“May I ask how serious you two are?” inquired Neil pleasantly. “Exactly what are your intentions towards my daughter, Benedict?” 

Benedict entwined his hand with Donna’s and rubbed the top of her hand with his free one. She moved closer to him, so that their bodies were touching. Benedict's body felt damp from nervous sweat. 

“Serious enough that we’re in a committed relationship and want to have a future together,” answered Benedict with a huge smile. “As I said previously, I love your daughter very much.” 

“And I love Benedict,” confirmed Donna. “I want very much for you both to get to know him as well as I do.” 

Neil’s eyes suddenly lit up as if he had won the lottery. 

Alarm bells suddenly went off in Donna’s mind, and she regretted her words immediately. 

_WRONG THING TO SAY, DONNA! He’s just taken that as an invitation to come to London! I really need to watch my mouth. Oh, Benedict really doesn’t look too happy._

Toni coughed. “I don’t think we need to know him _that_ well.” 

_Oh, there goes Mom with the subtle probing as to whether we’re sleeping together. I know in the back of her mind, that she also took that as an invitation, but she’s got to cover all bases.  
_

Neil began to not-so-subtlety flip through his desk calendar. 

_Shit! He’s looking at his schedule to see when he can fit in a trip to London!  
_

_Was her mother trying to find out if we’re shagging? That was such an odd comment. Now, Mum would just come out and say: So are you two shagging then?  
_

“Do you have any plans to move in together?” asked Neil, making another note. “Your sublet is up in January, isn’t it, Muffin?” 

Benedict and Donna exchanged glances. 

“Erm…we haven’t really discussed it; but it is a possibility,” Benedict said. “I like to keep all my…our…options open. There are still some facets about our relationship that are very new…” 

_Okay, Benedict, time to turn on that mouth filter of yours. You’re telling Mom and Dad way too much now.  
_

_Good.  Keep elaborating, Benedict. Now I can appreciate one of his War and Peace answers, thought Toni.  This may actually work to our advantage.  Donna's always been so closed-mouthed with us when it comes to her boyfriends.  Ah, but this one will spill all the beans and then some.  I think I might grow to like him eventually._

“…and we’ve yet to explore fully. However, we definitely have plans to um…yeah…better explore things and have some actual…. quality time together…because I’ve been working so much that we haven’t seen much of each other…” 

Donna slid off her slipper and nudged Benedict’s bare foot. 

_Oooooh, she wants me to stop talking. I think I’d better comply because I’m starting to drift into private areas that are nobody’s business but mine and Donna’s._

“So Donna’s invited me to accompany her on a Gastro Holiday in Cornwall. We plan to relax...eat some brilliant gourmet meals...drink some first-class wines...not too much drinking though...some drinking...go out dancing or to a film in the evenings...then getting to know each other...you know...sitting out on the balcony under the stars...the room has a soaking tube, didn't you say that, Donna?” 

"Yes.  I did."

_I should have lost my voice. I should have let the tub be a surprise. Why can't his memory be rubbish on these things?_

Benedict smiled almost dreamily.  "Having a glass of wine in the tub while looking out at the ocean...then...talking...I'm really looking forward to relaxing..."

Donna's foot nudged his. 

_I'd better wrap this up before she steps on my foot and cripples me._

"...and erm...yeah...we're really looking forward to spending quality time together..and talking....and relaxing.  Yeah.  And the food is really the star attraction. Absolutely, yeah."

_Thank you, Benedict. Why didn’t you just say: Oh, your daughter and I are going to Cornwall under the pretense of work; but in reality we only want to fuck each others brains out._

Neil made a note on the pad. 

_They're definitely sleeping together,_ thought Toni. _Sounds like they're still in the honeymoon phase of the relationship.  I hope Donna's on the pill._

_Who in the hell is he trying to fool? He's going for the sex, not the food,_ thought Neil. _I hope to hell Donna's using reliable birth control. I'll mention it to Toni to ask her about it._

“Oh, that sounds like a lot of fun,” mused Toni. “I can only imagine all the delicious treats that await you two.” 

Benedict smiled smugly. _Yes, I fully intend to have a lot of fun; and your scrumptious daughter is going to be my treat! I can’t wait to get my mouth on her and taste her delights. I plan to spend five glorious days doing nothing but getting laid, sleeping, eating gourmet food, drinking fine wines and getting laid some more. My dick will probably be sore by the time we leave, but it will be worth it! Ah…the perfect holiday!  
_

_Oh, Mom, you should only know what ‘treats’ we have planned; and they have nothing to do with food. Perhaps Carly can give me some tips on swallowing semen without throwing up.  Benedict is looking at me as if I were a banoffee pie. Gosh, I think I love it when he looks at me like that. The thought of finally having sex with him is making me feel awfully warm. I can’t wait to feel him inside me.  I need to give him a little appetizer after this debacle of a call.  
_

“Muffin? Were you somewhere else?” laughed Toni. 

_Yes, I was daydreaming about Benedict’s dick._

Donna felt Benedict squeeze her hand and she squeezed back. 

“That’s why I’m also coming home for Thanksgiving. I have to renew my work visa, in addition to writing that article for the Tribune on a New York City Christmas. I haven’t discussed the sublet yet with Marco. I love it here and would like to renew for another year. A lot will depend on his job situation in Saudi Arabia.” 

“So, you plan to stay in London?” Toni asked. “For another year?” 

“For the immediate future,” responded Donna, smiling at Benedict. “Well, I hate to have to break this up, but Benedict was just dropping me off.” 

“Oh. I didn’t realize you had been out,” commented Toni, offhandedly.  "I thought you were having dinner?"

"He dropped me off and had a bite to eat," said Donna.  "He has to leave now." 

“Donna came up to Crestwood to surprise me for my birthday,” explained Benedict. “I was filming an episode of the Miss Marple series.” 

“Happy Birthday,” said Toni. “I hope you had a nice time.” 

Donna nudged Benedict’s foot. _Say as little as possible, Benedict! Don’t give them more ammunition than you have already._

Neil began to write on the pad again. 

“Oh, _nice_ doesn’t begin to describe it. It was utterly brilliant! Your daughter is such a thoughtful and kind person. She went through such great lengths to have the most cracking breakfast hamper delivered to my room when I woke up. Donna thought of everything from my favourite pastries to a packet of first-rate Kona coffee, which was like drinking nectar from the gods….” 

Neil leaned into Toni, and Toni’s finger barely grazed his sleeve. _  
_

_Jeez. He really got into that coffee. I’ve never heard anyone describe coffee as ‘nectar from the gods’. That really must have been lousy coffee in the room._

“…then when I got back from filming, I found that she had gained access to my room…” 

_NOOOOO. Holy shit – look at their faces!   Shut up, Benedict!_

Donna nudged Benedict’s foot once again. 

_He’s not getting this. Do I have to pinch him to get him to shut the hell up?  
_

“Sherlock Holmes at work again,” noted Neil dryly. “I’m surprised they let you up to his room, Muffin. How did you manage to pull that off?” 

Benedict paused to look at Donna, eyebrows raised. “How _did_ you convince them to let you into my room, Darling? They’re pretty strict about things like that at reception.” 

_This question could have been asked later, once we were alone._

“Well, it actually wasn’t as difficult as you would think,” laughed Donna nervously. “I simply told the woman at the front desk that I was your girlfriend; and showed her a photo of us together.” 

“Legally, that woman took an awful chance by letting you into his room,” reminded Toni with a scowl. “Had you not been who you claimed to be, the hotel would have been libel for any damages sustained to Benedict’s person or property.” 

Benedict giggled. “Believe me; my person wasn’t harmed in the least! As a matter of fact, I’ve never been so well taken care of in my life…” 

_I need to change the subject before he infers or lets it slip that he was the recipient of a blow job for his birthday._

“Speaking of Sherlock Holmes, Benedict has been cast as Sherlock for a new BBC series starting next year!” 

Neil made more notes. Toni smiled serenely. Donna felt Benedict’s foot gently nudge hers. 

“How nice for you, Benedict,” said Toni. “I believe Neil mentioned something about another reboot of Sherlock Holmes being done over there by the gentlemen involved with _Dr. Who_.” 

_How could they have known that? Oh, yes. Uncle Rodney strikes again._

“Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss.  Beryl Vertue is also one of the executive producers. It's a true pity the BBC is notorious for paying their actors so cheaply,” mused Neil. 

“Not _that_ cheaply,” said Benedict insolently. 

Toni blatantly tapped Neil on the arm, and he made a note. 

_It’s certainly the most I’ve ever been paid for an acting job and will do quite nicely, thank you. I’d also love to know what he’s writing on that motherfucking pad of his. We need to get off the subject of money.  
_

“So where were we before Donna decided to share my good fortune?” inquired Benedict, flashing an annoyed look at Donna. 

“You were telling us about how well Donna treated you on your birthday,” responded Toni, taking another sip from the mug.  She smiled at Benedict over the rim. “Please continue,” she instructed. “I’m really enjoying this.” 

_OH, I bet you are, Mom. I’m never, ever going to hear the end of this. Sneaking into a man’s room._

“Yeah. Oh….erm…yeah…well, we had an extraordinary time…and…” 

“You had just finished telling us how Donna so creatively gained access to your room,” prodded Toni gently.

  
“Oh, Mom, _please_! It was nothing. I just left Benedict a few little surprises around the room…” 

Benedict nodded to himself. “Ah, yes. Of course. Thank you for the reminder, Donna.” _  
_

_NO. No reminders. I want you to shut the fuck up already._

“When I got back from filming, I found that there were all these little surprise treats left about my room. There was champagne, a little custom-made cake – it really was the most extraordinary cake…it was chocolate with this delightful toffee crunch filling – I’m such an absolute tart for anything with toffee in it – and the ganache was so rich and…” 

_Dad’s eyes are glassing over._

_How rude would it be if I were to tell him to put a sock in it?_ thought Neil.

_I would never want to put him on the witness stand,_ thought Toni.  _He rambles on and on and on._

“Anyway, she tucked a pair of owl socks into my drawer. They are special birthday socks with little owls on them wearing birthday hats and there’s confetti on the background and little cakes with candles. They’re in with my dirty laundry or I’d show you; but I suppose neither of you is interested in seeing my soiled socks,” Benedict chuckled. 

Toni raised an eyebrow at Donna. 

“Not in the least,” said Neil impatiently. 

_I’ve got to end this call before he tells Mom anything else._

“The true surprise was when I found out that Donna had been hiding in the wardrobe when I came out of the shower completely sans clothes…” giggled Benedict. 

Donna’s foot stepped lightly on Benedict’s. He immediately looked down and back up at her, his face a mix of puzzlement and shock. 

“Stop talking,” Donna hissed under her breath. “Please.” 

Her parents were surveying them with bemused expressions. 

“As you were saying, Benedict,” instructed Toni. 

Benedict ran his hand through his hair. “Oh, there isn’t all that much more to tell. All in all it was one of the most utterly romantic and gratifying evenings I’ve ever spent once I got back from dinner …” 

_Thank you, Benedict. You might as well have told them I gave you a blow job.  
_

_He's a rambler, but there's lots of valuable information once I sift through all the bullshit,_ thought Toni.

_My daughter comes up to surprise him, and the cheap bastard didn't buy her dinner?_ thought Neil angrily.

“You didn’t have dinner together?” asked Toni incredulously. 

“Well, I had prior commitments…..plus I didn’t know that she was coming.  Don't worry, I'd never let Donna go hungry. She ordered up from room service.  You had that pork chop, didn't you, Love?  Or maybe that was my Mum who ordered it….” 

_His_ mother was there?  _Sounds like he ate with his mother while my daughter was eating alone in his room,_ thought Toni.

_Sounds to me like he was keeping Donna hidden away,_ thought Neil. _His mother was there.  Well, well, well._

“Gosh, we’d really love to visit some more; but Benedict has to get home. He has an early call tomorrow morning, don’t you, Benedict?” 

“Erm…yeah. I have a table reading tomorrow and then I go straight into rehearsals for _The Turning Point_.” 

“The playlet about Winston Churchill and Guy Burgess, the spy,” finished Neil, making a note. “It’s being televised live next Friday night. I hadn’t realized you had been cast as Burgess.” 

_And now he’s going to ask Uncle Rodney to tape it and send it to him._

“It was nice to have had this little chat with you, Benedict,” said Neil. 

“I’m sure we’ll be having more of them,” added Toni. 

Benedict smiled at them as he rubbed his thigh. “Yeah. This was very…erm…nice. We’ll be sure to do it again…soon. Yeah.” 

_Not if I can help it_ , thought Donna.   

“I’m looking forward to the day when we can meet in person and have a proper chat,” Benedict added. 

_Thank you, Benedict, for sealing the deal. They’ll have their flights to London booked by the end of the day._

“Likewise,” said Neil. “Be well, both of you. Love you, Muffin!” 

“You can count on it,” added Toni with enthusiasm. “Love you, Muffin!” 

“Love you, too!” 

“Cheers!” said Benedict as Donna cut the connection. 

 

 

 

Antonia and Neil Saint James regarded each other for several seconds once the Skype connection had been terminated. 

“Well,” said Neil, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. “That was quite an informative little chat.” 

"It was once I sifted through all the bullshit and double-talk," she snickered.

Toni slid off the arm of Neil’s chair and straightened her skirt. She picked up the pad and glanced at it before sitting in one of the chairs in front of Neil’s large teak desk. 

“So, I take it from the way the conversation suddenly plummeted downhill that you know him.” 

Neil smirked and nodded. “I sure do. Remember the summer I went over to London to fill in for Rod when he had his bypass surgery?” 

Toni nodded. “Yes. That was in 2002. I flew back and forth so I could join you for a week here and there over the course of the summer.” 

“Do you recall the plays we saw at the open air theatre in Regents Park?” 

“Of course! How could I forget those?” 

Neil fixed her with a stare. 

“NO! That was him?” 

“Sure was.” 

Toni’s shoulders slumped, and she shook her head. “Are you _sure_ , Neil?” 

“One hundred percent.” 

“Why does our daughter always bring home actors?” lamented Toni, as she reviewed Neil’s desk calendar and scribbled some notes on the yellow pad. 

“Danny was a singer, and a damn good one. Look how far he’s gotten! VP of Live Entertainment at Walt Disney World is nothing to sneeze at.” 

“Donna would have done well to stick with Danny. You could have gotten her a job with the Orlando Sentinel or Danny could have gotten her a job at Disney. She could have been a wedding planner at the Grand Floridian's Wedding Pavilion! We could have given her the Disney wedding she's always dreamed about and by now they would be living in one of those beautiful, new Victorian houses in Celebration with a couple of children.” 

“The timing was all wrong for them. Danny was almost ten years older and still hadn’t grown up when he was dating Donna. She also didn’t want to move to Las Vegas with him when he went to try it out. Otherwise, everything was peachy keen between them.” 

“Donna would have loved Vegas! All those restaurants to review! Such an exciting city,” said Toni. “Not to mention our timeshare there.” 

“Vegas is nothing more than a cesspool of debauchery and excess for tourists,” proclaimed Neil with a wave of his hand. “Donna despises hot weather – she would have been miserable there.” 

“Orlando is also a hell hole in the summer,” pointed out Toni. 

“But at least it’s a hell hole with humidity. Vegas is like living in an oven. It’s only tolerable in the winter.” 

Neil rose from his chair and gazed out the window at Eight Avenue below. 

“Roy was always my favorite son-in-law candidate,” he said sadly. “He had it all and then some.  I was even willing to make allowances for the long hair.” 

“And now we have a homely, wordy Englishman who’s an actor to contend with,” spat Toni as she tore off the sheets of paper she and Neil had made notes on and stuffed them into her briefcase. “I’ll make copies when I get back to my office, so you’ll have a set.” 

“I thought you were done for the day.” 

“I was. However, after that conversation, I need to get to work on investigating Mr. Cumberbatch as soon as I can. Kenny should be back from court by then, so I can fill him in. I also need to check my calendar to see how soon we can get to London. We need to spend more quality time with him. Don’t you agree, Dear?” 

Neil turned to face his wife. He spread his hands in mock helplessness. 

“To paraphrase one of my favorite lines from Casablanca: ‘Of all the daughters, in all the towns, in all the world, he chooses one of mine’ – Why? Oh why?” 

Toni shrugged. “Who can say what attracts people to each other? He obviously has some qualities that Donna finds irresistible. Did you see the way she looks at him, Neil? She clearly adores him and vice versa. I’ve never seen her look at any of the other men she’s dated like that.” 

“He was looking at our daughter with pure, unbridled lust in those pale, strange eyes of his.  They look almost preternatural,” snarled Neil. 

“Donna’s a grown woman with a sex life. You have to accept that.” 

“I can accept it, but it doesn’t mean I have to like it.” 

Neil walked over to look at some framed letters on his wall. Over the years he had framed those of praise along with some of his favorite rants. Toni noted that he was reading one in particular as she zipped her briefcase shut. 

“An actor with a lisp…did you hear it?” Neil inquired, almost as if to himself. 

“How could one miss it?” Exclaimed Toni coming to stand beside her husband. She put her arm around his waist. “If I were him, I’d seriously work on getting rid of it.”

"You would think his agent would get on him about getting rid of it!"

"Thanks for mentioning that!  I need to check on who he's using for an agent." 

“Too bad his over-sized tongue doesn’t keep him from speaking,” smirked Neil. “He’s got to be one of the wordiest people I’ve ever had the misfortune to encounter.” 

“I see you’re reading your favorite letter again,”  said Toni.  

“Mmmm…It really is my favorite of all the nasty ones I’ve received over the years. Everyone has such a good laugh when they read it. I suppose you don’t realize the significance of it, do you?” 

Toni frowned as she read the letter. “I’m afraid the significance is lost on me…oh, hold the phone…this obviously has something to do with Benedict Cumberbatch, but I’m having trouble making the connection. How about enlightening me?” 

Neil Saint James hugged his wife close to him as they looked at the letter. 

“The author of this letter, Wanda Ventham Cumberbatch, is his mother.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I mucked with the time line as to the exact date Benedict and Donna met, so please indulge me. I wanted them together longer.
> 
> 2\. The quote re Benedict’s name came directly from an older interview: “My parents liked the sound of the name and felt slightly blessed because they’d been trying for a child for a very long time. I’m not Catholic, so it’s not that. They liked the idea of Benedict and Ben, the fact that it can be contracted. I think Toby was their second choice.”
> 
> 3\. Neil and Toni’s views are entirely their own, and do not reflect mine in any way, shape or form...thank God.  
> 4\. I have no idea how Newspapers work or how critics jobs are defined etc. Neil's position is being written to fit within the confines of my Benedict universe.
> 
> 5\. Note: Neil and Toni are not written to be loveable characters.


	75. Chapter 75

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Benedict reveals to Donna how he and Neil are acquainted. Donna gets another surprise. Benedict and Donna take another important step in their relationship. Another sex discussion ensues.

 

 

Benedict Cumberbatch let out the breath he had been holding and fell back against the back of the couch. He closed his eyes as he rubbed his temples vigorously.

“My fucking God! That was the most _intense_ fifteen minutes of my life,” he groaned.

“And I thought last night was the most _intense_ fifteen minutes of your life!” scoffed Donna.   “You need to make up your mind.”

Benedict opened his eyes and cocked an eyebrow at her.

“Bugger off! You know what I meant! You weren’t kidding about them were you?”

Donna got up and went into the kitchen. “No. I wasn’t. Now, I hope you have a better understanding as to why I wasn’t looking forward to this Skype _visit_.” She removed a shot glass from one of the glass-fronted cabinets and placed it on the counter.

“I can’t believe it…of all the bloody, motherfucking bollocks!” Benedict closed his eyes again and continued to rub his temples.

_Okay. That wasn’t too visceral of a reaction_ , thought Donna. _I’ve heard of worse reactions from Carly and Kenny after some of their dates went through the inquisition. I remember that girl Kenny was dating – Erica. She broke up with him right afterwards._

“I feel like my fucking head’s going to implode, I’m so damn tense! Look! My bloody hands are still shaking.”

Donna was taking inventory of the various bottles of liquor that Marco had left behind in his liquor cabinet. She turned around to see that Benedict’s hands were indeed trembling slightly.

_Well, he certainly hid it well. I knew he was pissed off; but not to this extent. Hmmmm…Benedict likes whiskey. He definitely needs something to calm him down after his first encounter with the Neil and Toni Show._

_Christ, how I wish I had a stiff drink and a spliff right now,_ thought Benedict. _  
_

“You really hid your anger well considering,” observed Donna as she exchanged the shot glass for a rocks glass.

“Well, I _am_ an actor, after all; and I’d like to think I’m a decent one at that.”

_He is a fine actor. Everything I’ve seen him in has been wonderful!_

“In spite of what _some_ people may think.” _  
_

_Dad really hit a nerve and probably enjoyed every minute of it. He really seems to have it out for Benedict._

“If it counts for anything, _I_ think you’re a fabulous actor!” _  
_

Benedict smiled briefly. “Of course it does, Love; and I appreciate the vote of confidence.”

“You should know by now that I don’t give praise unless I feel it’s earned.”

_Unlike your prick of a father, who’s overly fond of heaping nothing but unwarranted, harsh criticism upon hardworking, talented actors.  
_

“Do you know what the worst part was?”

Donna selected a bottle of whiskey and broke open the seal.  The heady scent filled her nostrils as she sniffed at it. “No, Ben. What?”

“They started out so _bloody normal_ …and then before I knew what was happening, I found myself in the middle of a pissing contest with your father and being cross-examined by your mother as if I were on the fucking witness stand at the Old Bailey!”

“Yep. That’s how they operate. It’s very subtle – then WHAM! They blind side you every time. Just ask my brother-in-law, Steve, or my sister-in-law, Scarlett. They can tell you their war stories.”

_I fully intend to ask Steven about his experience with the Drama Critic from Dante’s Inferno.  
_

“Motherfucking unbelievable!” Benedict ranted, pounding the couch with a balled up fist. “I’ve never been so insulted!”

Donna exchanged the rocks glass for a tall water glass and filled it to the brim with the whiskey.

“Take a deep breath, Ben Honey, and try and relax. Your face is all red.”

_How am I going to tell her what a first-class prick her father is? How can such an asshole sire such kind and wonderful daughters? I hope her brother isn’t like him. I need to tread carefully and not hurt Donna’s feelings. I also need to remember that the wanker is most likely going to be my father-in-law one day. Christ! I can’t even imagine what Mum and Dad are going to say. Actually, yes, I can. I can imagine it vividly. How did things get so cocked up?  
_

Benedict felt the couch dip next to him slightly as Donna curled up beside him, legs tucked underneath her.

“Here. Drink this,” she ordered, nudging his arm with what felt like a glass.

Benedict’s eyes fluttered open to see Donna offering him a large water glass filled to the brim with scotch whiskey.

“It’s Johnny Walker’s. Marco has good taste in booze, and I have his blessing to drink whatever he has.”

Benedict accepted the glass and downed half of it in one gulp. He wiped his lips on the back of his hand and smacked his lips.

“Thanks. I needed that,” he said settling back and staring at the ceiling.

“It’s for both of us to share. Can I please have a sip?” asked Donna holding out her hand for the glass. “I don’t want you drunk, just calmer.”

_Well, I want me drunk.  What I want right now is oblivion._

Benedict drank half of what remained and reluctantly handed over the glass and watched in amusement as Donna finished off the whiskey. She shuddered from the burn of the alcohol in her throat and grimaced.

_I don’t know how they can drink this stuff. Ugh!  
_

_She’s never going to be a drinker. Hahaha!  However, looking at the bright side, at least I’ll have a designated driver for life this way!  
_

“Sit up a bit, Benedict, so I can get at your neck.”

“Planning on throttling me then so you can put me out of my misery?”

“Stop being so damn sassy. I’m trying to make you feel better.” _  
_

Donna got on her knees and began to massage Benedict’s neck. She could feel the knots under his skin.

“Holy cow! You really _are_ tense! Let me work on these muscles,” she said.

“Fuck! That hurts.”

“Give me a few minutes to loosen up these knots.”

“I suppose the whiskey will loosen up the knots in my stomach.”

_I guess he’s not going to sit up. I’ll just have to reach whatever I can.  
_

Benedict remained silent, eyes closed with his hands laced across his waist as Donna did her best to rub his neck and shoulders.

“I don’t know what to say, Benedict. I’m just mortified. Their behavior was appalling – even by their standards.”

“Say nothing…please,” he murmured. “I need to collect my thoughts and calm my nerves a bit.”

_He’s visibly upset. I can still see him clenching his jaw and the pulse throbbing in his neck. I never should have let him talk to them…no wait that wasn’t a talk. That was part interrogation with Mom and part verbal sparring with Dad._

_I’ve never been treated so shabbily in my entire life! The parents of the women I’ve dated in the past were nothing short of kind to me. Olivia’s parents were extremely nice and accepting of me. Anna’s parents were also fine. These two are really something…and not a good something. The thought of putting them together with Mum and Dad is positively terrifying on so many levels. But what can I do about it? Break up with Donna? No! I’m utterly in love with her…I want to marry her and have children with her one day. Unfortunately, these two are part of the package. I need to count my blessings that they live across the pond. I wonder how Steven copes with them? They started off fine – and the mother remained friendly and civil, but she was definitely appraising me. I could see it in her eyes. The father is a right bastard. All that note taking was making me very anxious. I feel nauseous I'm going to puke.  
_

Donna leaned over and impulsively kissed his cheek. She was trying in vain to hold back tears that threatened to spill over.

_I hope he’s not thinking of breaking up with me after that. That happened with Sal Catalanotto right before the Junior Prom. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing Benedict. I love him so much. Tomorrow, I’m going to lay down the law to Mom and Dad. Benedict and I are in a serious relationship, and I won’t stand for them treating him like that._

Benedict sighed deeply as he felt the nausea subside and the tension slowly begin draining out of his body. The scotch was making him feel warm inside and a bit light-headed.

“Thank you. Your fingers are truly magical, Darling.”

“I’m so, so sorry, Benedict,” Donna began, voice quivering as hot tears fell onto his cheek. “My dad was unforgivably rude to you and my mom was…”

Benedict’s eyes flew open, and he cupped her chin in his hand. His ice blue eyes were full of concern.

“No more tears, okay? It’s not your fault things turned out the way they did, Donna. How were you to know that your father and I have a history of sorts? I didn’t realize who he was until he started to toss those snide barbs at me.”

“The minute he saw you, I could see in his eyes that he recognized you. How do you know each other?

“Remember when they were talking about the summer he spent in London while your uncle – by the way, is Rodney Renfield _really_ your uncle?” asked Benedict, hoping the man wasn’t actually related to Donna.

“Oh, no! Uncle Rodney and my dad are best friends. They met when Uncle Rodney came to New York as part of a student exchange program when he and Dad were in high school. He spent the summer living with my dad and grandparents. Then the following summer, Dad went to London to live with Uncle Rodney and his family. They enjoyed it so much, they did it four summers in a row. They are like brothers. He was my dad’s best man when he and Mom got married and he’s Kenny’s godfather.”

Benedict compressed his lips into a thin line and nodded, as he processed the information.

_Benedict totally despises Uncle Rodney. I can see by the way he’s holding his lips._

“You don’t care much for Uncle Rodney do you."  It was more a statement than a question.

“I’m not the only actor who felt that way. The London acting community held a private party at the Kings Arms Pub to celebrate his retirement from the Tribune. There were notices posted backstage in the theatres about the party. Everyone contributed – my parents included. It was an open house, and everyone was stopping in for a pint or two during the course of the evening to toast the end of what we actors not-so-lovingly referred to as the Renfield Reign of Terror.”

_Renfield Reign of Terror. Really? How dramatic he is at times.  
_

Donna looked taken aback by Benedict’s hostile comment.

“Isn’t Renfield Reign of Terror just a wee bit acerbic?”

Benedict threw back his head and cackled harshly. “Not at all. Have you ever read one of his bloody reviews?”

“Yes, of course I have. I would think the actors he raked over the coals deserved it. He wouldn’t just make something up,” said Donna defensively.

Benedict fixed her with a look and snorted his disagreement.

“I mean, like my father, Uncle Rodney is paid for his expertise in reviewing various forms of entertainment.   They have to be doing something right, or they never would have gotten as far as they did at their respective papers. Perhaps some of your actor comrades have overly thin skin, as Dad pointed out.”

_She’s not an actor. She doesn’t get it and never will, bless her.  
_

“I don’t fancy getting into a row with you over the finer points of critiquing a play or film; but there have been times when your Uncle Rodney – and your father – have taken cheap potshots at actors and writers. I’m not saying some of those performances or works weren’t deserving of the bad criticism. Some definitely were, and I heartily agreed with them and applauded them for having the bollocks to say so. However, for as many times as they have been right, they have also been wrong. I’ve seen careers destroyed by an unfavourable review.”

“I never thought of it that way,” said Donna quietly. “I suppose the same could be said of me when I review a restaurant. There have been a few times when one of my negative reviews caused a restaurant to close.”

Benedict nodded thoughtfully. “Well, I almost always agree with your reviews. You’re not in –the-face- nasty when you write…your style is more subtle, more thinly –veiled sarcasm, which I just adore.”

Donna considered Benedict’s words. “Hmmm…I’m going to have to disagree with you. I’ve crossed the nasty critic line a few times when food was really awful or I got sick from something that wasn’t prepared properly or the restaurant was filthy.”

“But they deserve that type of review if the kitchen conditions aren’t clean or the food prepared in such a way as to cause illness,” insisted Benedict.

“Then I’m not following you, Benedict.”

Benedict pursed his lips while thinking as to how to word his response as tactfully as possible.

“You don’t care much for coffee in real life, yes? Yet part of your job is to review it during a meal sometimes. You obviously know good coffee when you taste it and can give it a fair review. What I’m saying is that sometimes Rodney Renfield and your father haven’t always played fair in their reviews – especially if they have a hidden agenda with a particular writer or actor.”

“Let’s talk about my father, being I am getting the distinct impression that you feel he has an axe to grind with you. How does he fit into the picture?”

Benedict reached out and smoothed Donna’s hair. He leaned in and planted a gentle kiss on her lips before sitting back. He could see that she was curious, yet upset at the prospect of what he was about to reveal to her.

“In the summer of 2002,” began Benedict. “Your father was here in London filling in for Mr. Renfield, while he was recuperating from his surgery. I was working in the Open Air Theatre in Regents Park that summer. I was fortunate enough to be cast in three of their productions: _As You Like It, Romeo and Juliet and Oh What a Lovely War!_ They were all supporting roles, and I was so over the moon to have the opportunity to work. I had graduated LAMDA only two years prior, and welcomed whatever experience I could get.”

“Is this when you had the waiter and retail jobs?”

Benedict nodded. “Yeah. I needed to supplement my income. I had moved into my own flat in Shepherds Bush; and even though I had steady acting jobs, the pay wasn’t enough to support myself totally – by the way your father’s comment about the BBC’s cheap pay rates, was spot on. Even though the salary I’m going to be paid for _Sherlock_ is the most money I’ve ever made, it is still cheap by American standards. To clarify, had I been offered the same starring role in a show produced in the States, I’d probably be paid triple what I’m getting here.”

“Have you ever considered trying to land work in America? Hollywood? New York? Surely, Hollywood is the place to be for movies and Broadway for theatre.”

Benedict shook his head adamantly. “Maybe so; but my home and all those I love most dearly are here in London…my family…my friends. I would never consider moving there on a permanent basis.”

Donna frowned. “What about me?”

“I love _you_ most dearly of all, and you’re here in London.” He smiled at her. “I would never want for us to be parted by an ocean.”

_It looks as if I’m going to be living in London permanently if he proposes. I don’t mind, really. It’s a beautiful, vibrant city – and most importantly, the man I love lives here. I can make a life here. Oh, my, he’s waffling, and I’m waffling merrily along with him. I need to get him back on track.  
_

“So you met my father that summer?”

“We didn’t _meet_ each other per se. It was more like we became _aware_ of each other that summer. You see he was the critic who came to review _As You Like It_ for the Times. I was playing the role of Orlando, and was strangely excited that an important critic from the New York Times was going to be in the audience. Of course, we weren’t’ supposed to know that; but somehow the information leaked and found its way backstage. I was so chuffed to be up on that stage. The show began, and everything was going along splendidly. Then the most humiliating thing happened. I lost my voice without warning. I was using a microphone, and I was hardly being heard saying the lines.”

“How long into the play were you when that happened?”

“Right after the wrestling match when Orlando’s love-struck with Rosalind: ‘I cannot speak to her’ – and hearing a mixture of derision and sympathy from the audience; and hearing Tam, my brilliant understudy, say the first few lines of the next scene as I got on my motorbike and cycled home in tears all the way to Shepherds Bush.”

“Oh, Ben Honey, that’s awful!”

Benedict nodded solemnly. “To date that was the most embarrassing moment of my career. Then the next morning your father’s _lovely_ review appeared in the Times.”

Donna took note that Benedict practically spat the word 'lovely'.

“Somehow I doubt you literally meant it when you said it was a lovely review.”

Benedict snorted. “Correct. To be fair, it was actually a decent review of the play itself; but he basically ripped _my_ performance apart. He thought it quite the giggle that I took off on my motorbike before the play ended and had the bollocks to write as such.”

“Why didn’t you just hang out backstage until it was over? Maybe your voice would have come back if you had had something hot to drink.”

Benedict rolled his eyes. “An actor and his understudy just can’t keep swapping places during a performance, Donna. It’s just not done. Once I walked off that stage, I was done for the performance.”

“So, what was it? Laryngitis cause by a viral sore throat? Those can be pretty nasty.”

Benedict laughed bitterly. “It turned out to be a simple case of anxiety-induced stage fright brought on by the idea of such an important critic being in the audience, so it wasn’t going to magically come back that night. Of course, I was fine the next morning. I left because I was so humiliated! If that were to happen to me at this point in my career, I would have soldiered on and stayed. All I know is that I just wanted to be as far away from Regents Park as possible that night.”

_I went back to my flat, had a couple of stiff drinks, a spliff and fucked my brains out with Olivia until I passed out from utter exhaustion._

_Hmmmm...I would have stayed put until the performance was over.  It seems to me like Mr. Cumberbatch ran away from his problem rather than facing it head-on, but who am I to pass judgement.  I've never been in a situation like that.  I wonder if Olivia was waiting for him in a nice warm bed so she could comfort him.  I can imagine Benedict being a big fan of comfort sex._

_Donna doesn't approve of my actions, but she wasn't there and doesn't understand what I was going through that night. And of course, there’s more; but I’m not going to go into that tonight. You asked how we came to be aware of each other, my darling, and now you know._

“I’m really sorry, Benedict. I’m going to have a talk with them tomorrow.”

Benedict raised a hand. “No, you’re not!” he said sharply. “I can deal with your father, and I need to do it on _my_ terms. This has nothing to do with _you_.”

“I disagree! He’s _my_ father, and he was rude to you. I won’t allow him to talk that way to the man I love. The fact remains that he said some needlessly hurtful things to you and deserves to be called out on it.”

_Not that it’s going to matter a hill of beans in the end. I remember Carly and Kenny doing that, and nothing seems to deter or dissuade them._

“He was cheeky and condescending towards me – I’m not disputing that. Should he be called out on it? Absolutely. However, not by you. This is between your father and I. If we are going to have a future together; your parents are going to be part of it – just as mine are going to be part ...”

“But your parents are normal!”

Benedict stopped speaking and raised his eyebrows quizzically at Donna’s comment.

“How would you know? You’ve only just met Dad briefly.”

_Shit! You have to be careful not to slip in front of him, Donna! Time to back pedal._

“I meant that they _seem_ normal from your descriptions of them…”

“Normal has many shades of gray,” scoffed Benedict.

_Hmmm…they did come up with that crazy scheme to find you a prospective wife, which probably would have worked had we not come across each other first that night at Barbecoa. On second thought, perhaps normal doesn’t quite describe them_. _Keep talking, he’s still looking at you like he’s not completely convinced by your answer._

“…and your dad was very charming when James introduced us that afternoon in Marylebone.”

_And then there’s Mum, who will question Donna unmercifully on Sunday. She’s going to want to know everything about her and then some. Unlike Donna’s Mum, who is fairly good at being subtle, mine is right in your face and makes no bones about it. It’s going to be a very long lunch.  
_

“I’m not worried about you and my parents, Donna.”

_The hell I’m not! I’m such a liar. Who knows what can happen? Especially, after what went on at Emmy’s birthday dinner. I better make sure Dad only has one drink._

“…My point is that your parents and I are going to have to learn to peacefully co-exist. I appreciate that you want to clear the air on my behalf, but this is something I have to handle in my own way. I’m a grown man, Donna. I don’t need or want you to interfere. Promise me you will let it drop.”

_Oh. I hit a nerve. I reminded him of Wanda when I said that. He doesn’t like anyone intervening on his behalf. Holy cow, if he ever finds out about that ad, not only am I toast; but Wanda and Tim, too. I have to shut up and step back this time._

Donna nodded reluctantly. “I promise. I am really looking forward to meeting your mother.”

_Whom I’m already thick as thieves with._

_I can’t wait to see what you have to say once lunch is over, Darling; and we’re on our way…_

“FUCK ME!”

Benedict sat up ramrod straight in a panic.

“Now? I still have my period, and we did both decide to wait until…”

“NO! That’s not the kind of fuck I’m talking about.”

_Good. I really don’t think I want to explore carnal delights while I have my period even though I’m sorely tempted._

“Care to share?”

“Next Sunday I promised my best mate, Adam, that I’d watch my godson while he and Alice went out to dinner to celebrate their anniversary. It’s been an age since I’ve spent any time with them.”

“I don’t understand what that has to do with anything we’ve been talking about.”

_We just jumped from talking about my father to his best friend. Following his conversations are like being in a maze at times._

Benedict ran his hands through his hair and sighed impatiently.

_I hate when he sighs as if I should have been able to effortlessly switch gears._

“We’re having lunch with my parents at noon. That will undoubtedly last most of the afternoon – if things go really, _really_ well; I shan’t be surprised if Mum were to ask you to stay for Sunday supper.”

_It will go well, Benedict. You worry for nothing. Your parents and I have more in common than you can possibly imagine. Sunday supper it is!  
_

“That’s fine with me, Benedict. I have nothing else to do Sunday evening.”

“I’m supposed to be at Adam’s around five so they have time to go into central London to make their booking. My parents live in Kensington, and Adam lives near me in Hampstead.”

“Okay. So, you’ll have to make your excuses and leave when the time comes. I don’t see anything wrong with that, Benedict. As you just pointed out, we will have spent most of the day with them. You can drive back to Hampstead, and I’ll take the tube back to my place.”

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck and looked into Donna's hazel eyes.

“Well…erm…I have been meaning to ask you but I kept forgetting…I’m such rubbish with my diary sometimes. I had noticed the entry when we were stopped at the petrol station for directions and was going to mention it; but then I got distracted with all the talk of our impending holiday in Cornwall.”

_What in the hell is he talking about? I wish he’d just waffle to the point already._

Benedict scrunched up his nose and gave Donna that little lopsided smile.

_OH, oh. The smile. I wonder what’s up his sleeve,_ thought Donna worriedly.

“Adam and Alice had suggested I bring you along to help – not that Jonathan’s any trouble – he’s a very easy baby I assure you - so that way they can finally meet you. Alice thought we could have a drink before they have to leave.”

_Adam. Oh, no. I knew this day would come, but not so soon. He’s definitely going to remember me from Parliament Hill. He thought I was coming on to him. I could see it in his eyes that day, and he was flirting back a little with me. I hope to hell that he doesn’t remember me from that day in Paternoster Square. He was pretty far away when my foot got tangled up in the sandwich board chain. Maybe I can get his cellphone number off Benedict’s phone and call him before we meet. Then it won’t be so awkward. And just what are you going to tell him, Donna? That you were at Parliament Hill Market in order to carry out Wanda’s master plan to accidentally run into Benedict on purpose, so as to one day marry him? Oh, that will go down well, I’m sure. He’ll go right to Benedict and then everything will go straight to hell. Wait a minute. I thought he was away.  
_

“I thought they were away while Adam was directing a movie.”

“They are. Adam’s the second director on the same movie Mum’s in. Mum’s last scene is tomorrow, and Adam’s due back in London on Saturday after they wrap the location shoot.” _  
_

Donna mustered a big smile.

“I’d love to meet Adam and Alice, not to mention I adore babies.”

_She adores babies, bless her. I can’t wait to see her interact with Jonathan. I’ll probably be so over the moon that I’ll swoon. It will probably only serve to reinforce my broodiness._

“So that’s sorted then. Brilliant! I’m so over the moon that you’re finally going to meet Adam and Alice! I just know you’ll get along famously with them. I can’t wait to tell them.”

“Well, an hour’s not that long; but at least we can get acquainted a bit before they leave.”

“Oh, it’s not like they don’t know _anything_ about you,” laughed Benedict. “Even though we haven’t seen each other in an age, Adam and I still talk all the time on the phone, and we text and email.”

Donna watched with dread as Benedict removed his cellphone from the pocket of his shorts and sent a text message.

“There! I just texted him that we’ll both be coming to watch Jon on Sunday.”

Benedict tucked his mobile back in his pocket. He yawned loudly and stretched.

“Excuse me. I think that was my body telling me that I’d better head home. I’ve got to be back in this area for the table read by nine tomorrow.”

“You’ve had a lot to drink. Why don’t you sleep over here?”

Benedict frowned. “I really need to get a good night’s sleep – especially after last night.”

“Might I remind you that I have a king-sized bed. There’s plenty of room.”

Benedict tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as he pondered her offer.

_She’s right. My head does feel a bit woozy. I shouldn’t be driving._  

“I don’t have any clean clothes…I only have a suitcase full of dirty ones.”

“You can sleep au naturel. I don’t mind,” winked Donna.

“Erm…what about tomorrow? I certainly can’t turn up at the table read bare-arsed. I suppose I can wear these,” Benedict said, looking down at his shorts and t-shirt. He paused to sniff under his armpits. “I certainly don’t smell foul. I can wear these again.”

_No you can’t. Not when I have a perfectly fine washer and dryer at my disposal._

“I’ve got an idea. Go downstairs and get your suitcase out of the trunk. We can do your laundry here while we…hang out before going to sleep…we can watch TV or listen to music.”

Benedict got to his feet and felt his head spin.   He immediately reached out for the arm of the couch in order to balance himself.

“Shit! That whiskey really hit me! I just need a moment to get my feet working in conjunction with my head.”

_He’s swaying on his feet and thought he was going to be able to drive home. My money says he won’t be able to make it as far as the elevator._

“Okay...I just need to steady myself," said Benedict.  Donna watched as he let go of the couch and immediately swayed. "Actually, on second thought, that was a brilliant idea for me to spend the night. Not only am I not fit to drive, but I’m also a tart for a warm bed with a beautiful woman in it.”

Donna gazed up at him inquiringly. “Maybe I should go downstairs and get your things.”

He waved her off with his free hand.  “There’s no need. I can certainly do that. Be back in a tic.”

Benedict took a few tentative steps and swayed on his feet. He reached into his pocket for his car keys, which he tossed to Donna.

“I think it best I take you up on your offer. The remote opens the boot,” he said, sinking back down onto the couch.

 

 

Benedict Cumberbatch emerged from Donna Saint James’ bathroom, wearing his light blue cotton robe. He felt much better after a two-hour nap and a cup of strong, black coffee, courtesy of Donna. He checked on the laundry and saw that the first load had been transferred to the dryer and a second wash was already in progress.

_I have to say she’s a fast worker, bless her.  
_

Benedict crossed the hall to the bedroom where he found a freshly made bed waiting for him. The duvet had been turned down, the pillows had been plumped and there was a heavy winter-weight blanket folded in half on the side nearest the window. Benedict also noted that the flat wasn’t nearly as cold as when Donna had gone down to the car park to retrieve his suitcase.

_It’s nice that she’s making an effort to compromise._

“Feeling better? Did you find everything you needed?” came Donna’s voice from behind him.

Benedict turned to find Donna holding two glasses of water. She was wearing black and white polka dot sleep shorts and a stretchy black camisole. He quickly appraised her body as she made her way around him.

_Nice sleep ware! I love how her nipples are straining against the fabric and the shorts cling to her arse. Stop ogling her, Benedict. Always thinking with your knob._

Benedict had caught himself staring at Donna’s breasts and quickly averted his eyes as Donna placed a glass of water on each nightstand. Her cheeks had flushed.

_Too late. She saw me looking at her boobs._

“Erm…yeah. I found the toothpaste and the floss…and the towels…I already knew where you kept the towels and...yeah…everything was just fine…really, really fine.”

_He knows I caught him looking me over. I don’t know why guys are so blatant about things like that? Then again I wouldn’t mind if he chose to take off his robe now. Touche!  
_

“I remember you saying that you like to keep a glass of water beside the bed in case your throat gets dry at night. I like to do that, too.”

_Ah, something we have in common. We’re off to a good start. Let’s hope she can stay on her side during the night._

“Thank you, Donna. You have a good memory,” Benedict said as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I left my shaving kit in the loo for tomorrow morning. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Of course not! I was thinking that perhaps you should leave some of your things here for future sleepovers,” suggested Donna. “Unless you prefer not to,” she added timidly.

Benedict beamed. “I think that’s a brilliant idea!”

I knew she wouldn’t be the type to want to send me home after having sex.

“I’m so glad! I was a bit hesitant to suggest it because I didn’t want to come across as pushy.”

_Not to mention I already made room in the bathroom while you were sleeping and took care of the closet and dresser while you were taking that leisurely bath. That’s a load off my mind._

“Not at all. It makes perfect sense. I don’t require a lot of room. Perhaps one drawer and this much in the wardrobe,” Benedict said, using his hands to illustrate how much space he required.

_He needs about a foot of space. That’s nothing! But then again, he likes to squish everything in, so I guess that is all he requires. Won’t he be surprised when he sees that I relegated him a quarter of the walk in closet._

“I already took the liberty of doing that while you were napping and in the tub. You’ll find your underwear and pajamas in the top and middle drawers on the left hand side of the dresser…”

“You already put my stuff away?” Benedict interrupted incredulously, crossing the room to check the contents of the two drawers.

_I don’t see my socks_. _Where are my bloody socks?_

“Yep. Your jeans and shirts are already dry, pressed and hanging up in the closet. I can take your dress pants, ties and jacket to the cleaners along with my stuff tomorrow morning. That way you’ll have some dressier things here, too.”

_Where in the hell did she put my fucking socks?  
_

“I really appreciate this, Love. Just let me know what my share of the dry cleaning bill is,” Benedict said over his shoulder as he rummaged around in the drawers.

_I still have no idea what became of my socks. However, there’s plenty of room in the top drawer to keep my wallet, keys and watch. I notice that she leaves nothing on the top of dresser, so I'll be expected to toss everything in the drawer._

“It won’t be much. I’m thinking ten quid at most. Since the shop is in Paternoster Square, the owner and I give each other substantial discounts on purchases. That’s the beauty of bartering with the local shop owners. Carly and I give them cheap breakfasts and lunches, and we get discounts on their goods and services in return.”

Benedict turned to face her after pulling out a pair of clean pants, pajama bottoms and a t-shirt from the drawer. “Seems like everything has been accounted for…”

_Except for my bloody socks. Wait. I bet they’re in the washer._

“…but my socks. I hear the washer and dryer are still going. Might they be in there then?”

“Your socks and canvas sneakers are in the dryer.”

_She actually washed my trainers???? Who in the hell washes trainers???? I hope they don’t lose their shape._

“I stuffed the sneakers with towels so they'll retain their shape.”

_Bless her. She really does think of everything!_

“I’ve got that heavy white terry robe and matching slippers in the washer.”

_I don’t own a white terry robe and slippers. She’s talking about the ones that the inn provided! Shit! They’ll think I nicked them!_

Benedict frowned. “The robe and slippers aren’t mine, Donna. They belong to the Blackberry Bramble Inn. This is the only robe I took with me,” said Benedict, indicating the robe he was wearing.

_The robe and slippers belong to the inn? Those came with the room?_

“Are you kidding me??! You had your pajamas and t-shirt hanging over the robe in the bathroom, so I automatically assumed it belonged to you. The slippers were in the closet mixed up with your other shoes, so again, I thought they were yours and packed them up.”

“Which is why you needed to let me do my own packing up,” said Benedict, leaning against the dresser, arms crossed.

Donna’s face reddened, and she looked down at her cow-slipper clad feet.

“You’re right. I should have fought the compulsion to pack up everything.”

“Yes, you should have; being I had already asked you not to.”

“I thought I was doing you a favor by packing up your stuff while you were working.”

“I really wish you hadn’t ignored my request, Donna. Especially after our conversation this afternoon about compromising.”

“My intent was to save you time, so we could get on the road faster.”

“I love you, but _please_ stop doing me favours, _Sweetheart_.”

_Oh, there he goes with the snotty version of Sweetheart. To be fair, I did earn it this time. I’m getting that weird compulsion to giggle that I get whenever I get nervous. I need to tamp that down before he notices._

“This isn’t funny, Donna!” snapped Benedict abruptly.

_Too late. He noticed._

“I know! I’m sorry. I’ve always had this bad habit of laughing whenever I get nervous. I don’t think it’s funny at all. They are going to think we stole the robe and slippers.”

Benedict cocked an eyebrow at her. “Erm…since it was _my_ room, they’ll think it was _me_ who lifted them.”

“I can’t let them think that, when it was my fault! I’ll call and explain what happened first thing in the morning. Then I’ll mail the robe and slippers back to them.”

“Fair enough; but next time, please leave me to my own packing up.”

“I will, Benedict. I promise not to touch your things.”

“Thank you. I realize it will be a challenge for you, but I have confidence you’ll overcome the impulse.”

_What’s that word he’s so fond of using that means snide? Snarky. He’s being snarky._

“I’ll unpack my shaving kit in the morning.”

“I also made room for you on the left side of the medicine cabinet and some space under the left side of the vanity.”

_Looks like she favours my using the left side. How amusing._

“There’s plenty of room for you to store your personal grooming items. Since I already have the necessities like shampoo, toothpaste and floss, so you can just share mine…unless you prefer a different brand. Then you’re welcome to bring your own.”

“I had already used up most of my toiletries as I only brought enough to last me for the length of the filming. I had no problem making do with what you have on hand. As a matter of fact, you should do the same. The next time you come over, bring some clothes and toiletries to leave at my flat.”

“Wow, this is getting serious,” mused Donna.

“ _Getting_? I would say _is_ is more like it,” chuckled Benedict. “This is what couples in a serious relationship do, Donna.”

Donna smiled at him as she removed her slippers and climbed into bed.

“Ah! I love the feel of clean sheets, don’t you?” she purred.

_I’m not that fussy, but it’s best to go along with her. I will definitely need to step up how often I change mine once she starts staying over._

“Yeah. Nothing like it.”

_That sounded like he was trying to pacify me. I do know he’s very clean. Messy, but clean; and that’s what really counts._

Donna sat back against the pillows and eagerly watched as Benedict untied the robe.

_Oh boy! Now, I get to ogle his gorgeous ass and package.  
_

_For fucks sake! She’s going to watch me dress. Why do I suddenly feel shy? I shouldn’t. She saw all there was to see last night. I guess I should feel flattered that she’s showing interest in my body – just like I show my interest in hers.  
_

_Oh, Donna, how did you feel when he was looking at you before? You felt self-conscious. It’s going to take time to get into a comfort zone with dressing and undressing in front of each other. Though I do think he’s more comfortable than I am. I wonder if he wants to go right to sleep. Maybe he wants to watch TV or read a bit first. I think I’ll start to read and see what he does.  
_

Donna opened her nightstand and removed the book she had been reading. _  
_

_Shit! Do I really want him to see what I’m reading? Especially this one…_

Benedict approached the opposite side of the bed. Donna could see he had opted for nothing but navy blue boxer briefs under the robe, which she noticed hugged his thighs. He paused before getting into the bed.

“Do you need me to set the alarm or turn off any lights in the lounge area?”

“Nope. I keep that small night light on in the kitchen and the one in the bathroom. I already set the alarm while you were in the tub.”

“Shall I close the door to the room then?”

“No. I prefer to keep it open. It’s just us here.”

_I’ll be able to see the light shining from the loo across the hallway._

“But…”

_Shut up, Benedict, and turn on your damn mouth filter. She’s already compromised quite a bit. It’s your turn now. You’re already on the side of the bed away from the doorway. Sleep on your side so you won't see the fucking light in the hallway._

Benedict nodded and pursed his lips, as he looked about the room. “May I ask where my messenger bag wound up?”

“Over there, on the table beside the armchair. I wasn’t sure where to put it.”

_I would have put it on the table in the foyer, but this will do for tonight._

Benedict removed what looked like a script from his bag and climbed into the bed. He sat back against the pillows and surveyed his surroundings as he pulled the covers up to his waist.

_I don’t feel a draft from the aircon vent, so I can forego the t-shirt tonight. This really is a nice room. Very modern, but still nice. I like that she has a framed photo of us on her dresser. The bed is comfy, and the bed linens are top quality. I bet the view from that window is extraordinary in the morning._

“What are you reading, Ben?”

“This is my script for _The Turning Point_. I must remember to request a ticket so you can come see it.”

“I’d love to see it. It will be the first time I’ve seen you do anything live.”

“Then I’ll make sure to give a cracking performance,” he teased.

“Somehow I think you always put your best foot forward.”

Benedict leaned over. “What are you reading?”

“Nothing you’d be interested in.”

Benedict frowned. “Aren’t you the certain one! How about letting me judge for myself.”

“You’ve already seen it.”

“Well then?”

Donna reluctantly showed him the cover of the book:

**“Spicy Holiday Sex Tips From a Dominatrix”**

Benedict roared with laughter. “Bloody hell! Why on earth would you want to hide that from me? I was there when you bought it. I was wondering whatever became of it.”

“And now you know.”

“So, tell me - how is it? I’ve been dying to read it.”

Donna swallowed hard. “It’s…very….um…well…interesting…to say the least.”

Benedict set aside his script. “Mind if I look over your shoulder?”

_Jeez Louise. He wants to read a book with me about being a dominatrix before going to sleep. Life with him will never be dull._

“No, but I warn you that it’s pretty shocking.”

“Nothing shocks me in bed. I’ve experienced quite a bit.”

“Oh,” said Donna in a small voice.

_He’s really, REALLY curious – I can tell by the sparkle in his eyes. I wonder if he’s ever participated in dominant/submissive sex. He certainly wants me to know that’s he’s not a novice when it comes to sex, which I didn’t take him for in the first place. I don’t know if I have it in me to try something like what they show in this book. Good gravy! I just swallowed for the first time last night and didn't do a very good job of it._

Benedict moved so as to sit right beside her. Donna could feel his bare leg resting along side hers. The skin-to-skin contact felt exciting to her, as her eyes roamed over his naked torso and settled briefly on his sparse ginger chest hair. Benedict thought he had glimpsed a flicker of alarm in her hazel eyes at his comment.

_She thinks I’m into BDSM. Why did I make such a dumb comment in the first place? Because part of you wanted to impress her with your rather limited wealth of sexual experience. I don’t need to brag about my past intimate escapades. Particularly the ones that went awry._

“Oh…erm..um..no…no. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea about me, Donna. The last thing I want is to give you the impression that I’m into …rough sex and BDSM.” _  
_

_Though I have fantasized about it on occasion. Maybe someday I could convince her to try something tame to see if we both would be turned on by it. It’s one thing to entertain a fantasy; but quite another to actually act on it.  
_

_Oh, good! That’s a relief. I really couldn’t picture him handcuffing me to the bed. Though the thought of it is suddenly and strangely enticing.  
_

“I don’t want you to get the wrong idea, Donna. I’m interested in reading the book, not acting out any of it…”

Donna smiled. “That’s good to hear because…”

“…at this stage in our relationship.”

_What? How telling, Mr. Cumberbatch! You are interested in possibly experimenting in the future. Why am I suddenly not as repulsed by it as I was five minutes ago?_

“I’m glad you’re telling me this, Benedict. These are things we need to discuss as lovers.”

Benedict smiled serenely at her. “I’m also chuffed we can keep the lines of communication open when it comes to sex. I just wanted to say that I tend to wind up being the dominant one in bed…I find it a huge turn on.”

_He’s giving me conflicting information again. First, he’s not into it. Then he’s telling me that maybe in the future he might be into it. Maybe he’s ashamed to admit that he’s curious about it. I’m very confused. Let me back him into the proverbial corner. Sometimes it’s the only way to get a straight answer out of him._

Donna sucked in her breath. “When you say you’re the dominant one, just how dominant _are_ you? Do you have handcuffs and leather…things? I really don’t know how to tell you this, but I’m really a Vanessa Vanilla when it comes to sex and so were my two partners!”

_There. I said it. Don’t expect a wild time with me right off the bat, Benedict._

"You're going to have to be patient while I come up to speed with your carnal needs and desires," she added.

"I love making you come."

"Forgive the lousy pun.  I'm just worried about your ....high expectations."

“Whoa. I’m doing a piss poor job at sharing my thoughts, Donna. Allow me to clarify what I meant. I have found that I’m the partner who primarily winds up initiating and…directing – for lack of a better word – intimate encounters.”

_Jesus Christs! I wish he’d just tell me in plain, simple English. He’s such a waffler! So many words to say so little! Directing. What an odd word for him to use. Cutting through all the crap, it sounds like he means he’s usually the one to initiate sex and chooses what goes on in his bed._

“Directing,” repeated Donna thoughtfully. “What an interesting choice of words. I love when you talk like an actor,” she giggled nervously.

_I’m doing a shit job of explaining myself. Let me try again and reassure her that I have no intention of smacking her bum with a riding crop.  
_

“I won’t lie to you, Donna. I enjoy being the dominant one in bed…I get off on being the partner who does the seducing…yet I’m not ad versed to being wooed and seduced by my lover. That can be quite the ego boost.”

_He’s waffling again. I know when he’s leading up to a revelation.  
_

_Just tell her, Benedict. Lay your cards on the table.  
_

“I don’t own any whips, chains or handcuffs. The only black leather I own consists solely of a couple of jackets, gloves and my shoes. I assure you that there is nothing weird hidden in my wardrobe. I’m not turned on by giving or receiving pain in any way, shape or form. I particularly detest love bites. I find them painful during and afterwards. I don’t need or care to mark or be marked by anyone – no matter how much in love with them I may be.”

_When he reveals, he reveals. He’s obviously been with some wild women._

“Sounds like you’ve had some bad experiences,” ventured Donna.

Benedict nodded. “Yeah. I dated a woman who loved to bite and scratch –to the point where she actually drew blood. Afterwards I had bruises all over my body from her overly enthusiastic nipping; not to mention the claw marks from her long nails. Bottom line is I identify sex with pleasure, not pain. I give you my word as a gentleman that I would never inflict pain or touch you in any way that causes you any discomfort. I love and respect you more than anything and only want to give you pleasure.”

Donna nodded and sighed inwardly with relief. “Well, we are in complete agreement on that. I have no interest in inflicting pain on you either and respect your preferences as well.”

“You will find that I’m very adventurous in bed. I’m game to try almost anything – short of what we just discussed.”

Donna laughed. “Why don’t we concentrate on mastering the basics in Cornwall and then we can talk about moving on to more adventurous things. Let us not forget that last night was the first time I swallowed, and I failed miserably at that.”

“I suppose that’s the difference between being on the giving and receiving end of a blow job. I considered it quite an arousing and rousing success,” he winked at her. “I really meant it when I said you don’t have to swallow. I’m not offended…I realize it’s an… acquired taste.”

_Humph! Acquired? Ugh! I need to ask Carly if she does that for Steven. How odd that we've never discussed swallowing._

“Cornwall will be extraordinary,” said Benedict, hugging Donna close to him. “We have a lot to learn about each other, and all the time in the world to do it in. I look forward to making love to you properly. I dream and fantasize about it all the time.”

“Me, too.”   Donna put the book back in her nightstand. “I think I’m going to try and sleep now. Feel free to read if you want.”

“No. I need to get some rest. Good night, Darling,” said Benedict leaning over to kiss her deeply.

Donna could taste the mint of her toothpaste and mouthwash on his breath.

“Good night, Ben Honey,” Donna said, switching off the light.

_I love when she calls me that,_ thought Benedict as he moved over to his side of the bed. He could see the soft glow from the nightlight in the hallway, which enabled him to barely make out Donna’s shape in the darkness.

_I can live with this, I suppose._

Benedict lay on his back, eyes closed as he waited for sleep to overtake him. Even though the tension from the Skype call had completely left him, sleep alluded him.  

_Why can’t I sleep? It’s not that I’m tense. I’m feeling perfectly relaxed and calm. Hmmm..perhaps it’s because I can smell Donna's perfume and sense her near me. I want to hold her and feel her body entwined with mine. I just know the sound of her heartbeat and breathing would lull me to sleep.  
_

“Donna?”

“Mmmm?”

“Are you sleeping?”

“Not any longer.”

“Erm…this bed is fantastic and all but there’s still an awful lot of space between us. I’m feeling a bit lonely. Fancy a cuddle?”

_God, I’m such a sucker for a man who likes to cuddle! Even if he wakes me to do it. How lucky am I ?_

“I thought you’d never ask,” giggled Donna, moving closer to him. “Feeling better?”

Benedict met her in the center of the bed and held her close. “Yes, I am actually. I’m feeling quite relaxed.”

_And horny. I’m starting to feel horny. Ridiculously horny._

“I’ll have to take the credit for your relaxed state. It was my neck and shoulder massage that did the trick.”

_And you can take credit for the state of my knob right now, too.  
_

“You are truly the Queen of Massages,” he purred in her ear. “You work wonders on _all_ areas.”

“Are you hinting that you have a particular area that requires massaging?”

“Yeah. I’m feeling quite a bit of stiffness in one area in particular.”

“I hope _I’m_ not the cause of this stiffness.”

“You are the _sole_ cause.”

“I see.”

“No you can't. Would you fancy seeing the effect you have on me? I can I turn on the light. I'd be happy to show it to you.”

_I got the hint, Benedict.  You want a blow job, and you like to watch. I’ll give him an eye full. He deserves it after putting up with that damn Skype call._

Donna switched on her bedside lamp to see Benedict had already kicked off the covers and was reclining against the pillows, legs spread in anticipation. She could see his erection straining against his briefs and his pupils were almost completely dilated. He sighed deeply as she boldly reached into the fly front to release him from the confines of the soft cotton and held him in the palm of her hand. She felt an involuntary twitch at the contact and a soft moan escaped his cupids bow lips.

“My goodness, this does feel _very_ stiff! I definitely need to do something to relieve that.”

"The pressure is unbearable."

"I can definitely release that pressure for you."

Donna began to gently massage his foreskin.

"Oh, Christ!  That feels amazing."

"I think a nice massage is just what you need in order to rid you of that pesky stiffness."

Donna traced her finger along his frenulum and began to rub his shaft in an up and down motion, giving a little twist when she got to the glans.  She noted his breathing had begun to accelerate rapidly, and he felt hard as a rock in her hand.  He pushed against her hand to gain more friction.

_This is heavenly, but I really want to feel her mouth on me again._

“Um...exactly how long is my rain check valid for?” he breathed.

“Forever,” Donna whispered in his ear. She licked his earlobe and felt him shiver at the contact.

“Then in that case, I’d like to file another claim, if you don’t mind?”

Donna Saint James smiled wickedly at Benedict Cumberbatch as she positioned herself between his legs and continued to massage his shaft. He groaned with approval and regarded her intently with anticipation as she paused before taking him into her mouth.

“You’re in luck that the claims department is _always_ open for you. It would be my pleasure to serve you, sir.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Benedict's description of what transpired in the summer of 2002 was taken from an actual incident where he really did lose his voice during a performance. I have embellished it quite a bit.


	76. Chapter 76

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Benedict and Donna continue their rocky getting-to-know each other process. Benedict has a serious conversation with Carly’s husband. 
> 
> Warning: Benedict and Donna have a raunchy adult discussion in the first scene. If easily offended, please skip to the second part of the chapter.

 

 

 

Benedict Cumberbatch rushed out of Donna Saint James’ bedroom to find her perched on one of the breakfast bar stools, sipping from a beaker of hot tea, while reading her email on her laptop. 

_For fucks sake! Look at her sat there serenely reading her emails and drinking tea, while I’m dashing about like a loon. I wonder what it’s like to not be perpetually rushing around to sort things out every blessed morning!_

“Good Morning!” Donna said cheerily in greeting. 

There was no response from Benedict, as he passed by her to inspect the table in the foyer, followed by the closet and umbrella stand. 

“Bloody hell!” he whined, dramatically waving his arms about in frustration. “I can’t fucking believe this!” 

_Hmmm…he got his full eight hours and a blow job. The man should be feeling rested. Why is he still grumpy? Maybe he had a hard time getting used to a different bed._

“Didn’t you sleep well, Ben? Did you find the mattress uncomfortable?” 

Benedict ignored her inquiries as he raced about the lounge area, turning over cushions while muttering angrily to himself. 

“I just had the fucking thing last night!” 

_Ah ha! My honey has misplaced something._

Donna signed out of her email and turned sideways on the stool in order to regard a harried Benedict. 

“What are you looking for? Maybe I’ve seen it.” 

“I doubt it!” Benedict barked as he moved into the dining area, impatience growing, as he looked under the chair cushions, leaving them askew in his wake. “How does this happen to me every fucking morning?” 

_It’s simple. You’re careless_. 

“I need to understand how it is that I can _never_ find anything!” 

_He did ask,_ thought Donna with amusement. _I think I’ll tell him._

“You tend to toss your things and wherever they land, that’s where they stay until you miss them. Then you get angry when you can’t remember where they wound up.” 

Benedict stood with his hands on his slender hips and took a deep breath to calm himself. 

“My bloody mobile’s gone missing. I can’t find it anywhere!” 

_What’s so difficult about that? All he needs to do is call his phone.  
_

“Why don’t you just use the land line to….” 

“I NEED to find my mobile!” 

Donna got up, went to the land line and dialed Benedict’s cell number. Suddenly, they could hear the song that he had it set to coming from within the apartment. 

“Sounds like it’s in the bathroom,” observed Donna dryly. She tried to suppress a smile as Benedict dashed off down the hall to retrieve it. 

Benedict returned to the kitchen area less than a minute later still looking harried as his eyes roamed around the kitchen seemingly searching for something else. He glanced at his watch and groaned. “Arrgghhh! Not today of all days!”

“Late?” Donna inquired casually. 

“Not yet, but I’m working on it,” he huffed. “Fuck! I can’t find my razor.” 

“I thought you use disposable razors?” 

Benedict smacked his forehead. “Yes. Yes. Of course. You’re right. I bring disposables when I travel and used my last one yesterday morning. Might you have any disposables, Donna? I suppose you don’t use them because you wax everything.” 

“Under the vanity, on the right side,” replied Donna. “And there’s a lot you don’t know about me,” she added wryly. 

“You fooled me then. You have such delightfully smooth skin. I didn’t feel any stubble where I touched you last night. So you shave yes?” 

_He’s dying to know if and where I shave. I suppose I should satisfy his curiosity before Barrister Ben makes an appearance._

“I shave my underarms if you _really_ must know.” 

“You know me. Know I must or I’ll burst.” 

“One day, Benedict, your … _curiosity_ ….is going to be your downfall.” 

_Especially, should you ever find out about the plan. Then it will be all our downfalls.  
_

Benedict snorted and helped himself to a swig of her tea. He grimaced and quickly set the beaker down with a scowl. 

“Hmmm…this tastes like the stuff you refer to as ‘regular’ tea.” 

“Old habits die hard,” declared Donna. “I felt like having some. It reminds me of home.” 

“It’s also the decaf version,” continued Benedict. “I can tell by the lack of bite.” 

Donna nodded. “Yep. It’s decaf. You can always tell by the smoother taste.” 

“I need caffeine in the mornings or I have trouble functioning.” 

“Don’t worry; I’ve made you some of my Kona coffee.” 

“Jolly good. I’ll just be a minute,” he said, disappearing down the hallway. 

_It’s a good thing Marco didn’t carpet the hallway or he would be well on his way to wearing it out at this rate._

“And just for the record, I don’t wax _everything_ – as you well know after last night,” Donna called out after him. 

Benedict did a quick about-face and returned to stand in front of her. He bit his lower lip. He reached out to stroke her cheek with his thumb. 

_How I love what this man can do with that thumb, especially the way he touched me with it last night._

“Forgive my cheekiness. I tend to be a rather cantankerous bastard in the mornings. Good Morning, Darling.” Benedict flashed a sexy smile at her as he paused to give her a brief kiss her on the lips. “Did I happen to tell you how very sexy and arousing I find it that you don’t remove your pubic hair?” 

Donna met his gaze and returned the smile. “Um...as a matter of fact you did. Several times. I told you my doctor thinks it’s healthier to leave nature intact.” 

“And I heartily approve that you follow your doctor’s advice. You must do a bit of trimming though yes? No one has pubic hair that well-tended, and if you do, I’m jealous as hell because mine is an unmanageable bush.” 

“I happen to be quite fond of your ginger bush,” murmured Donna, giving him a long, lingering kiss. 

_I must be getting used to him because I don’t feel the urge to crawl into a hole rather than have this conversation._

“Let’s just say that I believe in pruning to keep things looking nice and neat.” 

“Would you still do it, if I weren’t going to see you sans clothing?” 

_How do we get into these types of discussions? I can hear it now. Carly will ask me: How was your morning, Donna? Oh, fine. Benedict and I had a spirited discussion about the merits and care of pubic hair over breakfast._

“Think about it, Ben. I had no idea you were going to see _anything_ until you pressed the issue last night. I do it for myself. I like the way it looks.” 

“From your reaction, I pressed all the right buttons,” he said with a smug smile, as he leaned into another kiss. 

“Your dirty- minded texting finger gets kudos for a job well done.” 

Benedict’s smile widened so Donna could see his dimples. He stepped back, took a bow and crooked his index finger at her as if it were taking a bow also. 

“My finger thanks you for the gracious compliment. I’m so glad I was able to talk you into allowing me to return the favour. It meant a great deal to me to be able to give you so much pleasure last night.” 

“I’m glad you were able to talk me into it, too. I was afraid you’d be put off being I have my period. A lot of men would be turned off by the idea of it.” 

“As long as you were wearing a tampon, I saw no reason not to touch you. You’ve taken such brilliant care of me that I wanted to do the same for you. I couldn’t tolerate seeing you so obviously frustrated again.” 

“It’s hard not to get worked up while watching you enjoy yourself.” Donna smiled at Benedict and stroked his cheek. “Thank you for caring so much, Ben Honey. You were very attentive and gave me the most intense climax. I’m also looking forward to feeling what you can do with your amazing tongue.”

_Christ, I just get shivers whenever she calls me that!  I'm so over the moon that I could satisfy her._

“I was game last night, but you didn’t want me to,” said Benedict, cocking an eyebrow at her. “I was sincere when I made the offer; it didn’t bother me as long as you wore a tampon. I’m also not ad versed to shagging while you’re menstruating.” 

Donna visibly cringed as she held up her hand. “I love the fact that you’re so open-minded about sex. The thought of your using your tongue while I have my period makes me squeamish –with or without a tampon. I admire and truly appreciate your willingness to please me, Benedict. I really do. This is just something I’m not totally comfortable with.” 

“A debate for another time then,” said Benedict dismissively, as he left the room wearing a self-satisfied grin. 

 

 

 

Fifteen minutes later, Benedict returned to the kitchen to find a beaker of steaming hot coffee in addition to a glass of freshly-squeezed orange juice waiting for him. 

_Christ, I could get used to this special treatment so quickly. I don’t ever recall Olivia doing things like this for me in all our time together. I guess it’s because we were both always sleeping until the last minute so we would grab something on the way to work. Anna wasn’t a breakfast eater…or maker for that matter._

“Have a seat. Your pancakes are just about ready,” Donna said, taking a plate that had been warming in the oven. 

_Fuck me! She even warms the plates in the oven. No wonder her food always stays hot. It never dawned on me. I’m such an ignorant tit at times._

“I wish I could stay, Donna; but I barely have enough time to walk over to where we’re having the read through in. I’ll just have something when I get there.” 

“What if they don’t have anything?” 

“There’s always some kind of catering available at table reads and rehearsals.” 

Donna checked the time on the kitchen clock and frowned slightly. 

_Why is he carrying on like he’s going to be late? He’s actually early for a refreshing change of pace. He has time to eat and continue our unorthodox chat if he wants._

“Why you have plenty of time for breakfast!” said Donna as she plated a stack of four pancakes and placed it on the counter. “Banana walnut pancakes,” she announced. “Be careful. The plate is hot.” 

The aroma filled Benedict’s nostrils, as he inhaled the fruity scent of banana along with a hint of vanilla. His stomach rumbled enthusiastically in response. 

_I’m really hungry. I bet those taste as good as they smell. I’ll definitely be late if I take the time to eat…I suppose I could eat quickly._

“Those smell fucking amazing, and I’m sorely tempted to say the hell with it.” 

Benedict bit his lower lip as he checked his watch, trying to decide whether or not to take time out for breakfast. Donna saw him scowl as he compared the time to that on the kitchen clock. 

“That’s odd.” 

“What’s odd?” asked Donna as she placed a dish containing softened butter along with a small pitcher of warm maple syrup onto the counter beside his plate. 

“This clock shows that I’ve still got an hour before I have to be at the table read, yet the clock in your bedroom shows that I’m about to be late.” 

“That _is_ odd,” agreed Donna as she piled two pancakes on a heated plate for herself and took her seat at the breakfast bar. “So you do have time to eat.” 

“Something’s not right,” muttered Benedict to himself. “I just adjusted the time on my watch to match what was on your bedroom clock.” 

“Are you sure? All the clocks in the apartment have the correct time. I set them myself to match the time website on my computer.” 

“I know what I saw,” he said flippantly. 

Benedict turned on his hell and headed down the hall into Donna’s bedroom. The clock radio’s time was in fact showing an hour later than it actually was. He switched on the television to one of the morning news shows in order to further confirm that the kitchen clock was displaying the true time. 

_I bet Donna set this clock ahead so I wouldn’t be late! Isn’t she the clever one! I could have slept another hour at least!  
_

Donna was occupied with buttering her pancakes when Benedict returned to the kitchen, wearing an annoyed expression on his face. He sat on the stool beside her. 

“That was very cheeky of you, _Sweetheart_. Well done you.” 

_I know the sarcastic Sweetheart when I hear it. He’s not happy about something. Gosh, I even made him coffee instead of tea._

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Care to fill me in on my cheekiness?”

Benedict picked up a knife and helped himself to the slightly softened butter. “Don’t play coy with me, _Darling_.” 

_I’ve never seen such perfectly round pancakes. She must use a measuring cup to pour the batter onto the griddle.  
_

Donna cut into her stack of pancakes as she regarded Benedict from out of the corner of her eye. 

_Holy cow! There’s a sarcastic version of Darling, too. The things you learn when you have sleepovers.  
_

“You set the bedroom clock ahead, so I wouldn’t be late.” 

Donna paused with her fork midway to her mouth.   

_I must be hearing things. Did he just accuse me of sabotaging the clock radio’s alarm? Yes, he did._

“What are you talking about?” Donna demanded in exasperation. “I didn’t touch the friggin’ clock. It’s on your side of the bed!” 

“I’m not happy you did that without telling me, Donna. Did you actually think I wouldn’t notice?” 

_He’s blaming me for something I didn’t do! Gosh! Once one gets a reputation, it sticks. Now, I really understand what Wanda and Tim were getting at._

“I’d say I’m sorry...” 

Benedict poured some syrup onto his pancakes and cut into the stack. He speared a generous forkful.

“No, you’re not,” he said snidely. “You’re not at all sorry. You think this is hilarious. I can tell by that smug little expression on your face. You’re really quite pleased with yourself, aren’t you?” 

Donna drank some tea and met his gaze. 

_He wasn’t exaggerating when he said he can be a cantankerous bastard. He’s taunting you, Donna. Not one of his finer qualities. Think before you speak_. 

“If you would just shut up and allow me to get a word in edgewise… _please_. I was going to say that I have nothing to be sorry for!” 

Benedict ate some more pancakes and cast a sideways glance at her.

“I know it makes you nuts when I’m late all the time.” 

_So, he does realize it. Here I thought he was blissfully unaware that I want to throttle him at times. I’m tempted to put those pancakes over his head._

“I whole heartedly concede that your perpetual lateness drives me crazy; but at the end of the day, it’s not _my_ problem. It’s _yours_!” 

Benedict poured the remainder of the syrup onto his pancakes and cut into the stack. Donna watched as he placidly ate another forkful. He shrugged at her. 

_Whoa hoa here! I just realized something!_

“I have to take back part of what I just said, Benedict. Since we are now an official couple, it does become _my_ problem when _you_ make _US_ late.” 

“We both are going to have to learn to take the good with the bad in this relationship, Donna. You thought by setting the clock ahead, you were helping me to better manage my time. If I wanted assistance in managing my time, I would have consulted with you. Now, sod off for fucks sake!” 

_He could certainly benefit from help, because he is sorely lacking when it comes to time management skills. I’ve never seen anything quite like it!_

Benedict noticed that Donna looked a bit miffed as she continued to eat her breakfast. 

_She’s not happy with me. I shouldn’t have told her to sod off. That was too nasty. I’m not looking to have a row with her. She’s not wrong about my always being late because I am. I just want her to admit that she mucked with the time on the clock._

_Mr. Cumberbatches’ deduction is completely wrong. I need to hold my temper along with my tongue until I figure out what happened before this blows up into a full scale argument._

“And I meant that in the nicest possible way,” added Benedict as an afterthought. 

_Like hell he did!_

“No, you didn’t.” 

“I refuse to get into a pissing contest with you, Donna. Only _I_ know what _I_ meant.” 

_I see that. You are determined to have the last word, Benedict; and you may have it. I’m not getting down in the mud with you. I need to figure this out._

They ate in silence for a few minutes. 

“These are the most delectable pancakes, Love.” 

_Okay. Now, I’m ‘Love’. He wants to make nice and pretend that nothing happened. This man is no fool. He knows which side his pancakes are buttered on._

“The slices of banana and crunch of the walnuts makes for a brilliant contrast in texture. I love that I get a bite of fruit and nut in each bite. The pancakes themselves are so light and fluffy. They are just heavenly.” 

_Listen to Mr. Food Critic expounding on how tasty my pancakes are after he just got done blaming me for something I didn’t do. Bless his little heart.  
_

“Is this real maple syrup?” 

“Yep. I don’t use that artificial crap. It’s nothing but corn syrup and artificial flavorings.” 

“Mmmm…there’s a definite difference. I’m afraid you’ve spoilt me for anything else. The softened butter and warm syrup are an unexpectedly delightful touch.” 

“There’s nothing worse than being served cold, hard-to-spread butter and cold, generic pancake syrup. One of my first columns here focused on a self-proclaimed, American-style diner in Covent Diner which had the balls to serve me that – among other unsavory things. I’m happy to say that they are no longer in business.” 

_I must remember to toss the syrup I have in the fridge and lay in a bottle of the real stuff next time I’m at Sainsbury,_ thought Benedict as he got up to get them both a refill of their beverages. 

Donna found her thoughts drifting back to earlier that morning as she watched him making her more tea and pouring himself another mug of coffee: 

 

**She had been sound asleep when the alarm on her cellphone started to ring promptly at five thirty. Benedict had stirred beside her and began to immediately grouse about having to get up.**

**_“BLOODY HELL! How can it be time already? Turn that motherfucking thing OFF!”_**

**Donna had grabbed her phone and quickly silenced the alarm, as Benedict was frantically groping around on his nightstand in search of the clock radio. She had rolled over to find him literally smacking the top of the clock radio in a futile attempt to silence it.  
**

**_Jesus Christ! He’s going to break it if he keeps banging it like that. If he does break it, he’s buying Marco a replacement!_   
**

**“You can cease your assault on the clock radio now! That wasn’t your alarm. That was mine. You can go back to sleep!”**

 

“Here we are. Regular decaf tea for you, and coffee for me,” Benedict said pleasantly as he placed the beakers on the counter. 

_Benedict was pressing all the buttons on the clock radio, trying to turn it off! He must have hit the ‘set time’ button and the time moved ahead by two hours!  
_

Donna lay down her fork and regarded Benedict, who was finishing off his pancakes. 

“Benedict, it just dawned on me what happened. When the alarm on my cellphone went off, you assumed it was for you. You were still half asleep and trying to find the button to turn off the clock radio’s alarm that wasn’t ready to go off yet. Instead you must have hit the ‘set time’ button and advanced it by two hours, which explains why you still had an hour left over after it took you an hour to get ready. Voila!” 

Benedict swallowed and considered what she had said. 

_Hmmm…that’s certainly plausible._

“So, the alarm went off two hours earlier than I had originally set it for yes?” 

“It’s the only explanation that makes sense,” confirmed Donna. 

“So it would seem,” he said grudgingly. 

Donna patted his thigh. “Look at the silver lining, Benedict. Doing that enabled you not only to have time to enjoy a leisurely breakfast with me, but also gave us time to have that nice little chat about pubic hair. I bet you can’t have a breakfast conversation like that at Café Nero!” 

“I suppose you make a valid point,” grumbled Benedict as he drank some coffee. 

Donna could see the start of a smile tugging at the corners of his Cupid’s bow lips. 

“I have to say it’s a damn good thing you’ll have writers writing Sherlock’s deduction scenes because your deductions are worth bupkus!” Snickered Donna as she ate the last bite of her pancakes. 

Benedict drained his coffee mug and wiped his lips on the serviette. 

“You’re correct on all fronts, and I apologize for jumping to the wrong conclusion,” he sighed. “I’m a grown man who is perpetually late due to poor time management skills. It’s not intentional, which I think you’ve come to realize by now. I just tend to get distracted. I do have to admit that my unplanned solution was paramount for getting me ready on time.” 

“Maybe you should make that part of your routine,” suggested Donna helpfully. 

Benedict slid off the stool, and kissed Donna on the forehead.

“Let’s not get totally carried away here,” he laughed as he playfully tweaked her nose. “And I don’t want you getting any ideas, either!” 

_It’s too late, Benedict. Idea has already been gotten and filed away for future use._

 

 

 

Benedict Cumberbatch was walking briskly towards the Saint Paul’s tube station when he caught sight of Dr. Steven Cipriano exiting the station.   

“Steven! Wait up!” called Benedict, as he hurried to catch up with Carly’s husband. 

Steven turned and waved at Benedict, who quickly closed the gap in between them. The two men shook hands in greeting. 

“I’m glad you could make it today, Benedict,” said Steve as they headed towards Paternoster Square. “I felt it was very important that you be at this meeting.”

Benedict nodded. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I fear neither Donna nor Carly have a clue as to what they’re letting themselves in for.” 

“Agreed,” concurred Steven, pushing his wire-rimmed glasses up onto his nose. “At first, Carly couldn't understand why I wanted you present until I explained to her that being you work in the film industry, you’re familiar with what’s involved with catering.” 

“I’m happy to listen in and give my opinion. I don’t think either of us wants to see them make a bad business decision.” 

“Exactly. I don’t think they understand just how easy it is for them to get in over their heads,” insisted Steven vehemently. “Carly’s bored right now because she’s in between jobs; but once Jamie Oliver is ready to move forward with his new restaurant, she’s not going to have a lot of free time to devote to this new enterprise. And while I love my sister-in-law dearly, I don’t see her handling a catering job of that magnitude alone.” 

“Neither do I,” agreed Benedict. “Perhaps once they go over the numbers with their bookkeeper, they’ll realize how much of an extra expense it’s going to entail and that will be sufficient to discourage them.” 

“From your mouth to God’s ears, Benedict,” said Steven quietly, as they rounded a corner. “So I understand that you experienced the Neil and Toni Show via Skype last night. Allow me to offer my heartfelt condolences.” 

“Bad news travels fast,” quipped Benedict. “I take it Donna told Carly what transpired.” 

“They will tell you that there are no secrets among twins. They tell each other _everything_...” 

_I wonder if Donna tells Carly about what we’ve done in bed. I would hate to think that she would broadcast our most intimate moments together...though Adam and I do share some things about our sex lives._

“…Then Carly filters the information, and tells me what she thinks I need to know. And before you ask, I’ve never been privy to any information concerning Donna’s sex life, nor do I want to be.” 

“How did you know what I was thinking?” chuckled an obviously-relieved Benedict. 

“Because I’ve often wondered about such things myself.” 

“Donna’s never discussed your personal life with me. I only know that she thinks very highly of you and that her parents put you on a pedestal.” 

Steven snorted. “That’s only because I met their criteria for a son-in-law.” 

“Which are?” inquired Benedict. 

“I’m Italian, Roman Catholic and a doctor…though I do think being a doctor trumps the other two by a landslide. Toni is fond of letting it be known that her son-in-law is a doctor.  She loves nothing more than letting that little tidbit drop.” 

“I’ve got three strikes against me then,” bemoaned Benedict. “I’m English, Anglican and an actor.” 

“Anglican is a close cousin to Catholicism.” 

“Apparently, not close enough,” retorted Benedict. “I could see the blatant disapproval written all over their faces. I’m not even a practicing Anglican. I prefer to embrace the principals of Buddhism and told them so.” 

“I bet that went over like the proverbial lead balloon!” 

“Erm…I suppose you could say that,” laughed Benedict. “They looked as if they had been sucking on lemons.” 

“Normally, I would have thought being an actor would make you and Neil best buddies; but I’ve got it on good authority that isn’t the case. What gives?” 

“Your father-in-law seems to have a boner for actors in general,” blurted out Benedict, voice laced with venom. “The bastard deserves to be sacked.” 

Steven blinked and looked at Benedict as if he had grown two heads. He stopped walking and pulled Benedict over to sit on a bench against the side of one of the buildings, so they could continue their talk in a slightly more private setting. 

“Neil Saint James is the New York Times’ most popular and powerful entertainment critic. Actors, directors and playwrights fear him; and rightfully so. His reviews can make or break someone’s career.” 

“Of that I am well aware,” declared Benedict angrily. 

“Neil has a very wide and devoted readership. His audience enjoys nothing more than one of his unfavorable reviews. They revel in his not-so-subtle ability to rip apart an actor or actress’ performance. His written word alone can force a play to close after opening night and box office sales to plummet if he detests a movie. The nastier the review, the better - as far as his readers are concerned. His yearly column on the Top Ten Worst Performances is legendary, not to mention his yearly revision of the Top Ten Worst Films of All Time. If I were in show business, those are two lists I would never want to find myself on!” 

“I suppose it was my lucky day when the wanker got promoted to editor then,” mused Benedict. “I won’t ever have to worry about him, as I’m just a jobbing actor.” 

_Not to mention I’m also not famous by any means._

“What makes you think that just because he’s an editor now, he no longer does reviews?” 

“I would think he wouldn’t have the time with all his new job responsibilities.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, my naïve friend.” 

“Is there something that I don’t know about?” 

Steven nodded “ Whenever a very important play opens or a major motion picture is released, Neil’s still the one who does the review,” he replied. 

“I assumed the Times would certainly replace him yes?” 

“Not according to Carly. Neil himself told her the Times is cutting back and made the decision not to fill his vacancy with another critic. They are going to spread out the work among the critics they already have, and Neil is going to pinch hit whenever they need to pull out the big guns. It seems they were inundated with complaints when the readers discovered Neil wouldn’t be doing any more reviews.”

“A true pity for the acting community,” spat Benedict. “I suppose he decided to cave in and do his adoring readers a huge favour and continue with the burden of reviewing.” 

“Don’t kid yourself, Benedict. Reviewing plays and movies are not a burden to my father-in-law in the slightest. Neil loves being a critic, along with all the perks and privileges that go along with the job. I wouldn’t be surprised if he negotiated to continue doing reviews as part of his new contract.” 

“I bet Antonia advised him as to what demands to make,” scoffed Benedict. “She strikes me as a fierce negotiator.” 

Steven laughed and slapped his knee. “And you would be correct! Toni reviews each and every contract and NDA that anyone in the immediate family has to sign. I guarantee you that Neil didn’t sign anything without her blessing.” 

Benedict sat quietly, letting Steven’s words sink in.  He removed a lip balm from his pocket and coated his lips. 

“I’m sorry the meet and greet didn’t go better,” remarked Steven. “You’re a decent guy and didn’t deserve the treatment you got.” 

_He knows every word that was exchanged. I can see it in his eyes and hear it in his voice,_ thought Benedict. 

“It was like a nightmare!” exclaimed Benedict. “I couldn’t believe I was seeing him when we took their call. I recognized him straight away, and I knew he recognized me in turn.” 

“If it's not too much to ask, whatever happened to earn you his ire?” 

“I lost my voice, and he belittled me for leaving the theatre.” 

Steven looked at Benedict questioningly.

“You were doing a show on Broadway? I’m afraid I’m not following you.” 

“Our paths crossed here in London. It was early in my career, and I lost my voice during a performance due to anxiety - all because word got backstage that the wanker was in the audience to do the review. There wasn’t anything for me to do once my understudy took over, so I just got on my motorbike and headed home to lick my wounds, crying all the way I might add.  It's something I'm not particularly proud of and certainly would never behave like that again - should a similar situation ever arise."

"How long ago did this take place?"

"2002. Neil spent that entire summer here on temporary assignment to the London Times while his mate was recovering from bypass surgery.” 

“Uncle Rodney.” 

“Yeah. Neil’s feared and equally despised counterpart across the pond. I remember how happy everyone was that Renfield was laid up and couldn’t do any reviews that summer. Little did I know that they would send Lucifer over to take his place.” 

“Sounds like a case of the devil you know vs the devil you don’t know.” 

“Both of them are right wankers.” 

“I’m going to take a wild guess that Neil gave you a bad review.” 

“Bad is actually being kind. I performed in three plays in Regents Park Open Air Theatre that summer, and the son of a bitch reviewed them all. He could not find a kind word to say about me. I'm convinced to this day that the bastard went out of his way to look for things about my performances to pick on just so he could get off on it. His reviews were totally biased and unfair. I found that I was even the subject of his theatre blog, much to my humiliation and horror. Do you know the motherfucker actually caused me to sink into a depression, which lasted a couple of months?   He’s even raked my dad over the coals.”

“Your dad is an actor?” 

“Yeah and my mum, too. She was so incensed by those reviews and my subsequent depression that she actually wrote the fuck a letter!” 

Steve stared at Benedict in disbelief. 

_No. It can’t be. It has to be a coincidence. I should ask just to make sure._

“What name does your mother go by? Does she use Cumberbatch?” 

Benedict shook his head. “Hell no! Both of them eschewed Cumberbatch as being too…cumbersome for an actor – pardon the pun. My dad goes by Timothy Carlton and Mum uses Wanda Ventham.” 

_Wanda Ventham! I could never forget that name. She sent Neil his favorite nasty letter of all time. The one he has framed and hanging on his office wall that I’ve read several times myself. I can’t believe Benedict’s mother is the one who penned it._

“May I ask who fired the first Skype volley?” 

Benedict sighed deeply. “He began to sling barbs at me as soon as he could find a way to work them into the conversation. Funny, but things actually started off on the right foot. They were both polite and friendly...then it all went straight to hell.” 

“Believe me, Benedict. I do get it. I’ve been there. I wasn’t always the golden son-in-law. Carly and I met at Disney World when we were in their College Program. At the time, I had considered singing professionally at Disney in one of their live shows. When Neil and Toni got wind of it, they made it known in no uncertain terms that a husband with a Disney career would not do for their daughter. Things were very tense until I decided to apply to medical school. Then their tune changed considerably. Especially, once I was accepted. When I graduated, they gave me an electronic stethoscope worth four hundred dollars.” 

“That’s a pretty impressive gift, Mate.” 

“That was only part of my gift. It was the check for ten thousand dollars tucked into the congratulatory card that both floored and frightened me at the same time.” 

Benedict whistled softly. “That’s much better than a card and a tenner.” 

Steven laughed. “Yes. Much better. However, it did make me feel as if I were being rewarded for doing something they wanted me to do.” 

“Did you consider giving them back the check?” 

“Fuck no! I used it to pay back part of my student loan.” 

“And all’s been well between you since then?” 

“More or less. Believe me, whenever I do something to piss them off, I find out about their displeasure tout suite.” 

“They send you a message through Carly yes?” 

“Hell no! They call me directly. Neil and Toni do not use messengers. They do their own dirty work, as they want to ensure that their message is conveyed in exactly the way they intend for it to be.” 

“They don’t want the meaning to be misconstrued in any way by having Carly deliver it to you, lest she sugar-coat it.” 

Steven nodded. “Bingo. You’re a quick study Benedict.” 

“You’re terrifying me, to be honest,” laughed Benedict nervously, as he rubbed the back of his neck. “You make them sound reminiscent of the Mafia.” 

“I’ve always suspected Uncle Angelo has ties but nothing’s ever been proven one way or another.” 

“Jesus.” 

“Carly tells me that things are very serious between you and Donna…as in marriage serious.” Steve noticed the look of surprise on Benedict’s face. “I probably shouldn’t have said that, but there are some things a wife will naturally confide in her husband,” he added hesitantly. 

“My plan is to propose to Donna by year’s end…either on her birthday or at Christmas. I trust you won’t breathe a word to Carly.” 

“I give you my word,” said Steven solemnly. 

“Thank you,” said Benedict. “I’m a hopeless romantic and feel a marriage proposal should be a special surprise. I already have an idea as to what kind of ring to offer her. I want to design it myself and make it truly special.” 

“Feel free to let me know if you need any help with it. Toni's brother, Frank, is a jeweler on Forty-Seventh Street.  All you'd have to do is send a sketch of what you want, including how big of a diamond you want and how much you're prepared to spend.  He'll do it for you at cost, and mail it to you - overnight and insured of course.”

"Really?  Thanks for the tip.  I don't have a whole hell of a lot of spare cash to spend, so any discount would be appreciated."

"He will tell Toni though.  Just so you go into this with your eyes open."

"Oh, I would ask Neil and Toni for Donna's hand prior to contacting this...Fred?"

"Frank. You would seriously ask for permission to marry Donna? "

"Of course, I would.  Isn't that the proper way to do things?"

"I didn't ask permission or give them any warning.  I just went ahead and proposed on Valentine's Day over breakfast at Norma's. Then we went to visit Uncle Frank, Carly picked out her ring - they can do it all in a couple of hours - and SURPRISE!  We stopped by the house and told Neil and Toni the good news.  They were thrilled, but I know deep down inside Neil held it against me that I didn't come to them first."

"You let Carly pick out her own ring?"

"Oh, yeah!  It was so much easier that way, and to ask Donna for help...well...how can I say this?"

"You don't have to.  You were concerned that Donna would slip and tell Carly."

Steven laughed.  "Yes, I was.  Believe me, its' easier when you let them pick what they want."

"I suppose I'm a hopeless romantic when it comes to these things, but I feel a ring should always be presented to a woman at the time of the proposal. It serves to further heighten the aspect of the surprise."

"Anyway, my advice to you is not to ask him for Donna's hand - especially after what you've just told me. Just go ahead and propose when the time comes. Then tell them after the fact. It will save you a lot of aggravation and possible heartache."   

Benedict nodded. “I appreciate it, and I will heed your sage advice. Right now, though, I could use some advice for handling Neil and Toni in general. I love Donna very much, and realize that I need to get along with them as they are her parents; but I won’t allow them to shit on me.” 

Steven pursed his lips. “I have three words for you: Stand your ground. To allow them to push you around will doom your relationship with them from the start. They will try, but don’t let them get under your skin. I realize I made them sound horrible, and in the end…” 

_Now, he’s going to tell me they aren’t all that bad._

“…they can be positively miserable when provoked – real or imagined.” 

_Okay, Benedict, they’re both motherfuckers._

“However, if you get on their good side; you should have smooth sailing. If Donna’s happy with you, they will - for the most part - be happy with you.” 

“I notice your use of ‘should have’ and ‘for the most part’. You’re not leaving me with warm, fuzzy feelings, Steven.” 

“Unfortunately, you’re an actor.” 

“Which is a thorn in their collective paws yes?” 

“They dislike actors – make no mistake about that. Especially, one who’s a serious contender to be their next son-in-law.” 

“Why do they hate actors so? Neither of them knows me personally!” 

“It’s because Donna has always had a penchant for dating entertainers, particularly out of work ones. She brought home two actors who were less than impressive and one singer, who managed to charm them both. Unfortunately, the singer wanted to whisk Donna away to Las Vegas in search of greener pastures, which didn’t sit well with them at the time. In the end the singer actually made something of himself, and now they sing a different tune - pardon the pun.” 

_That must be the one who became a VP at Disney. I can’t recall his name._

“Davy?” 

“No. Danny. Danny Manganero. He’s VP of Live Entertainment at Walt Disney World.” 

_Jolly good for fucking Danny Manganero. If he was so wonderful, Donna would still be with him._

“Danny and I are very close friends. We used to sing in an a Capella group together.” 

_Be careful what you say about Davy – Danny – whatever the fuck his name is, Benedict. Tread carefully._

“Before I forget, Benedict, there’s something else you may or may not be aware of.” 

“I’m hesitant to ask, but what else is there?” 

“Just be extra careful as to what you say in front of the girls when it comes to Rodney Renfield.” 

“Oh, that. Yeah. Donna told me he and Neil are best mates.” 

“Did she tell you anything else?” 

Benedict thought for a moment and shook his head.  "

"No. Just that and how he and Neil met. Why?” 

“Rodney Renfield and his wife just happen to be godparents to Kenny, Carly and Donna’s older brother. We get together with them for dinner once a month, and I know Carly and Donna both speak with them often on the phone.” 

Benedict looked shocked. “Too late. I already made my feelings about Mr. Renfield known last night. I hadn’t a clue about that! I guess she decided not to divulge that little tidbit after listening to my rant.” 

“Anyway, what I want to convey to you is that nothing is more important to Neil and Toni than to see their children happy in their relationships. They aren’t bad people, Benedict. They are good people deep down inside and will do anything for their family. Toni, in particular, loves to dispense advice – whether or not you ask for it. Just remember that you don’t have to take it. To thine own self be true – first and foremost.” 

“Ah, an American doctor who quotes Shakespeare. I am impressed!” 

“I took an English lit course devoted to his works in college and aced it.” 

“Which work was your favourite?” 

“Hamlet,” replied Steven immediately. “I always thought it was his finest work.” 

“I fancy playing Hamlet one day,” said Benedict with a deep longing. “It’s a role I think every actor yearns to play.” 

“Maybe one day you will,” he said, patting Benedict’s arm. “Anyway, what I’m trying to convey is that once Neil and Toni get the idea you aren’t going to be an easy lay, they should - for the most part - back off.” 

_I don’t like how he said ‘for the most part’. These two have the potential to be the in-laws from hell._

“My last piece of advice is: Don’t ever move to New York, no matter how tempted you may find yourself one day. In the meantime, by staying in London, you’ve got a big, beautiful, blue ocean between you. Please don’t say anything to Donna or Carly, but I’ve been putting out feelers to my supervising doctor about possibly relocating here permanently.” 

“Your secret is safe with me. I also have no intention of living anywhere else but London, which Donna seems amenable to.” 

“That’s because Donna enjoys working and living in London. She broke it off with Danny because she didn’t want to move to Las Vegas.” 

“I won’t say a word, and I can handle Renfield, when our paths finally cross,” said Benedict getting to his feet. “We’d better get going before they realize we’re late.” 

“I’ll just blame it on you,” teased Steven. 

Benedict looked at him. “I suppose my reputation does precede me.” 

“That it does,” laughed Steven. “And that little habit, my friend, will drive Toni and Neil to distraction. If you think Donna’s anal about being on time, wait until you have to go somewhere with them.” 

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck. “Erm…how do they feel about smoking?” 

“They have zero tolerance for it.” 

“Perhaps I should seriously consider taking it up again then,” snickered Benedict. 

“Man, you really do like to push that envelope, don’t you?” 

“So I’ve been told.” 

“Speaking as a doctor, it’s not good for you, which I’m sure you’ve already been told.” 

“Yes, and I haven’t smoked for quite a while now. However, I’ve got to smoke for a role Friday night and don’t know if I can tolerate those nasty herbal fags. I will try my best because I don’t want to have a relapse – even though I enjoy smoking very much.” 

“Donna’s highly allergic to tobacco smoke.” 

“I know that, which is the main reason I want to stay quit. It’s hard though…it’s an addiction. Well, I don’t have to tell you, do I?” 

Steven shook his head. “How did you know?” 

“Because you often have something in your mouth. Right now, you’re chewing gum to stave off the craving. I prefer chocolate mints, but use gum in a pinch.” 

Steven laughed. “My, you are going to make a great Sherlock Holmes! I started in high school, but stopped after a couple of years.” 

“What made you quit?” 

“It’s more a case of who made me quit. Let’s just say my father was an excellent motivator, not to mention it was too expensive of a habit to keep up with. I still get the cravings but have managed to fight them off so far. Besides, a doctor shouldn’t smoke. How would that look to my patients?” 

“Like you’re human,” mused Benedict. 

“We can act as each other’s support buddies,” Steven laughed. “Just don’t call me in the middle of the night.” 

“I appreciate your taking time to fill me in on the Saint James’, Steven.” 

“I hope I didn’t scare you off!” 

Benedict shook his head. “Fuck, no! It takes a lot to discourage me, especially since their daughter happens to be the woman I want to make my wife and mother of my children.” 

“Then, on that note, allow me to prematurely welcome you to the Saint James family,” Steven snickered as he clapped Benedict on the back. “And may God have mercy on your poor, unfortunate soul.” 

Benedict stopped and frowned. “Isn’t the actual quote: May God have mercy on your soul?”

Steven nodded and laughed. “Yes, but I added in a bit taken from a quote in the Disney film, _The Little Mermaid_. It’s a combination of Billy Madison meets Ursula the Sea Witch. You can take the man out of Disney, but you can't take Disney out of the man.” 

“And who said that?” 

“I did,” laughed Steven Cipriano. "Now, let's see if we can talk our women out of this potential folly."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Belated Valentine's Day!
> 
> Congratulations to Benedict on his marriage! 
> 
> Today I've got a couple of questions for my lovely readers:
> 
> 1\. I've been wondering if everyone is pleased with Benedict's real life outcome. I've seen so much love and hate concerning his real life relationship over the past few months that I am curious as to how my readers are split. Are you happy or not with how things have played out? 
> 
> 2\. Are you still interested in my posting future chapters of this story?


	77. Chapter 77

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Benedict and Steven attend the meeting at Carldonn and cause both Donna and Carly to have second thoughts about their expansion idea. Benedict makes a proposal of his own.

 

 

Benedict Cumberbatch was sat on a chair beside Steven Cipriano in Carly and Donna’s office in Carldonn Creative Catering. They were all listening intently to Kelsey, the bookkeeper; present the numbers regarding Donna and Carly’s proposition to assume duties as the official caterers for _Dr. Who_.   Donna and Carly sat on either side of Kelsey taking in the woman’s every word. 

“So, that’s the story,” said Kelsey in conclusion, sitting back in her chair. 

“Wow, that was a lot of information to take in, Kels,” commented Carly. “My head is spinning from all…” 

“Carly, what Kelsey is saying is that we _can_ do it!” exclaimed Donna happily, clapping her hands together. “Just think how exciting it’s going to be to actually cater a TV show?” 

_I’d love to see how exciting she’d find catering outdoor shoots in the rain and when it’s below freezing and sleeting._

“It won’t be so exciting once you’ve gotten your feet wet,” warned Benedict. “And I mean that literally.” 

Donna did not seem to be phased by Benedict’s remark in the slightest. She did catch a look of alarm on her brother-in-law’s face and quickly leaned around Kelsey to address a bewildered-looking Carly. 

“Who knows where this can lead?” 

“If you’re not careful, it will lead straight to bankruptcy,” quipped Benedict. _  
_

“Oh, Benedict! You worry too much. Kelsey just gave it her blessing,” insisted Donna. She turned her attention back to Carly. “We realize it won’t be easy, but we welcome the challenge, don’t we, Curly Carly?” 

“It does sound doable,” said Carly a bit hesitantly. “And we are looking to…branch out.” 

“Mmmm…that’s _not_ exactly what I heard, Donna,” interrupted Steven, as he poured himself a glass of water. “It sounds more to me like it’s _possible_ , but it’s much more involved than originally thought – both in terms of the financials and manpower needed.” 

“If we charge enough, we’re sure to turn a handsome profit,” insisted Donna. “Isn’t that correct, Kels?” 

Kelsey nodded. “Most assuredly. The trick will be to come up with an attractive offer to Mr. Moffat that will maximize your profit.” 

“Did you ring up other film caterers to see what they charge so you can make a fair comparison?” inquired Benedict. 

Kelsey nodded. “Yes. Both Donna and I did that. In order to make the proposal attractive to Mr. Moffat, we will definitely have to come under what he’s currently paying.” 

“The quality and variety of our food will certainly speak for itself,” said Donna proudly. “As our slogan says….” 

“Slogan? What slogan? You never had a slogan!” Steven blurted out in surprise. 

“That’s right, but we do now,” confirmed Carly. “I think you’re going to love it! Tell them, Donna.” 

“Lip-smackin’ satisfaction guaranteed.”

Steven had just taken a sip of water from the glass he had been holding and immediately spit it out onto the desk. He and Benedict exchanged amused glances. Carly grabbed some tissues and mopped up the water from the desktop. Benedict immediately covered his mouth to keep from laughing out loud. 

“Lip-smackin’ satisfaction,” repeated Steven, smacking his lips for emphasis. “That’s quite a slogan, isn’t it, Benedict?” 

Donna and Carly watched as Benedict and Steven once again exchanged looks and finally burst out into uncontrollable laughter. The two women did not look amused. 

“You don’t like it?” asked Carly in astonishment. “How could you _not_ like it? It’s so catchy!” 

“We thought it was cute and clever,” said Donna defensively. 

“That’s God awful!” chortled Steven. “I think it sounds hokey and contrived!” 

“Who came up with that rubbish line?” asked Benedict, trying to control his laughter. He smacked his lips at Steven, who snorted in response. 

“I did,” Said Donna sullenly, arms folded across her chest. 

Benedict immediately ceased his laughing and cleared his throat. 

_Shit! I need to turn on my mouth filter, but I sense it’s too late. I have a feeling if I ask for a rain check tonight, Donna’s going to tell me to go blow myself. Perhaps I can still make amends._

“I suppose it _is_ rather creative now that I think about it,” said Benedict, crinkling his nose at Donna and giving her an impish smile. “Lip smackin’ satisfaction…erm…yeah, it is catchy...and very original certainly.” 

_The cute nose crinkle will not work this time, Benedict!_ Thought Donna. 

“As you’re so fond of saying: Sod off,” snapped Donna. 

“And sod off I shall,” said Benedict under his breath to Steven. 

“Slogan aside for the time being, I’m most concerned about the manpower needed to prepare, transport and serve the food,” piped up Carly with a slight frown. 

“Well, the good news is no one has to make any snap decisions,” said Steven with his most charming smile. “It’s not like they’re going to starve. They still have a caterer.” 

Carly and Donna both glared at him. Steven felt Benedict nudge his foot. 

“Wrong thing to say, Mate,” whispered Benedict. “They’re glaring daggers at you.” 

“That’s why we’re having this meeting, Steve. Because _Dr. Who_ has a truly lackluster caterer who Mark thinks should be canned as soon as possible. Carly and I want to be their only viable option,” explained Donna. “We don’t want to give them time to shop around for another caterer!” 

“If we’re going to do this, we will need to act fast,” persisted Carly. “Those who hesitate, risk losing out to another caterer.” 

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but Mark’s the one who wants to sack the incumbent yes?” chimed in Benedict, running his hand through his hair. “Steven Moffat hasn’t a clue that Mark’s going to present him with your proposal for the purpose of trying to talk him around.” 

“Right. Mark’s offered to act as the middle man in order to convince Moffat to make the switch to Carldonn,” confirmed Donna. “Speed is of the essence. We don’t want to give any other caterers a chance to get the business.” 

_For fucks sake! No one else even knows that they’re going to make a bid for the business. She makes it sound like every fucking film caterer in London is in line to bid on the business. Donna is moving too fast. She’s thinking with her bank account._

“I realize that, Donna; but Steven Moffat isn’t going to make a snap decision – even if you submit the proposal tomorrow. He’ll still take time to make up his mind and will probably want to taste your food,” argued Benedict. “He’s not going to jump into bed with Carldonn on Mark’s say-so alone.” 

“Carly, what’s wrong?” asked Steve. “You have that worried look on your face.” 

_Of course your wife’s worried and rightfully so! She doesn’t want to risk losing money or the business, but Donna’s pushing her,_ thought Benedict _. Donna is acting totally on impulse in this situation. I wish she’d put on the brakes._

“I’m all for making the proposal, as long as we’re not getting in over our heads,” replied Carly hesitantly. “I’m just concerned about the investments we need to make in order to make this work.” 

“You have every right to be concerned, Carly,” sided Steven. “I urge you both to carefully think this through before giving anything to Mark Gatiss. Take the rest of the week to make up your minds.” 

Benedict nodded. “I’m with Steven. Even though I understand your desire to wrap it up nice and tidy post haste, it would be foolhardy not to consider all aspects first. No one else knows that Mark’s looking to talk Steven around into hiring another caterer, so there’s no need to rush.” 

“Kelsey? In a nutshell, what is your final opinion?” asked Donna. 

“To summarize what I’ve been going over this past hour, if you two want to proceed with this venture; it is certainly feasible. You have enough capital to invest in order to buy additional supplies and hire more kitchen staff. If you continue to be savvy about local-sourcing your provisions and not over-extending yourselves, I would say that it is both a wise and safe undertaking.” 

“You’re referring to how it looks on paper,” said Benedict a bit testily. “What looks feasible on paper, often doesn’t translate into profit in the end. There are often hidden and unforeseeable costs.” 

Kelsey nodded. “Yes, of course that can happen. That’s how a lot of businesses go under. What looks good on paper doesn’t necessarily translate well to reality. My job is also on the line, should this venture fail; so I was extra careful when doing the calculations. Now, with that said, I am completely confident that Carly and Donna can tackle it and come out with a very substantial profit to show for some extra work.” 

_Kelsey doesn’t know what in the hell is involved any more than Donna and Carly do. I am so glad Steve insisted I be here today_ , thought Benedict. _Perhaps I can make them see the light._

“ _Some_ extra work?” scoffed Benedict. “There is a lot more than ‘some extra work’ when catering proper meals for a film crew. As I’ve mentioned to Donna before, one just can’t deliver a platter of sarnies and some biscuits. At the very least, they will expect a different hot main every day along with accompaniments – possibly two mains - depending upon how mouths you have to feed on any particular day. You have to take into consideration that there may be vegetarians and those with allergies, who need special meals catered.” 

“Not a problem,” said Donna determinedly. “We always have a vegetarian offering every day – a sandwich and a soup.” 

“What about gluten-free, low fat, low sodium and/or sugar-free diets? Can you accommodate those in addition?” 

Carly frowned slightly. “I suppose so.” 

Steven shook his head. “Why do I have the feeling that neither of you has thought this through? Hun, I’m strongly advising you to mull it over for a few days.” 

“It really does involve an extraordinary amount of extra work,” added Benedict. “Do both of you have the extra time required to devote to this folly – I mean venture?” 

“I think we should submit our proposal to Mark, and see what happens,” said Donna. “The worst thing that can happen is he tells us that Moffat isn’t interested in making a switch.” 

“Or worse, that he _is_ interested,” countered Benedict, ice blue eyes full of concern. 

Donna noted that his tone was very serious. 

_Benedict is not on board with this. I can tell by the way he was sitting with his head cocked to one side and his arms crossed. Steven doesn’t look happy either. He keeps crossing and re-crossing his legs – a sure sign that he’s nervous about it._

“Just make sure you are ready to act upon it, should Mr. Moffat want to move ahead and hire Carldonn,” warned Kelsey. “Bottom line is if you two want this bad enough, it can be done without taking a loss – provided you’re careful and don’t get in over your heads. And that’s what I’m here for, to make sure that you don’t. I’ll leave it to you to discuss among yourselves now, I’ve got to call in payroll before I leave. Let me know what you decide. Cheers.” 

Kelsey closed the door behind her as she left the small office. The four sat quietly, digesting all the information that had been laid before them. Steve reached out and moved the spreadsheets to the edge of the desk, affording him and Benedict a better chance to study them. 

“I’m not getting positive vibes from either of you,” Began Carly. 

“No…you’re not,” confirmed Benedict, as he pointed out something on the spreadsheet to Steven. “What do you think, Doctor?” 

“That I’m better off sticking to medicine. It seems like they can pull it off…at least it appears to on paper, but…” 

“What do you think, Benedict?’ asked Carly. 

“He hates the idea,” snapped Donna, rolling her eyes. 

“How about letting me speak for myself _please_? I’m only acting out of concern for both of you,” retorted Benedict. “The last thing you need is to file for bankruptcy when you have such a flourishing little business to begin with. It would be a shame to lose it because you two over-extended yourselves.” 

“What about your regular jobs?” inquired Steven. “I would think your first responsibility is to the Tribune, Donna; and to your clients, Carla.” 

_Steve only calls her Carla, when he’s being very serious_ , thought Donna. 

“We’ve already gone over this before we even saw the actual numbers,” explained Carly. “I just wanted Kelsey to confirm what Donna had come up with.” 

Donna opened an orange manila folder and removed some papers. “Here is the proposal we intend to give to Mark Gatiss. There’s a sample menu in it. I think you’ll see we’ve got everything covered.” 

Benedict and Steven regarded the paperwork before them. They took several minutes to thoroughly read everything. 

“Everything looks to be in order so far,” said Steven. “Where is the sample menu? I didn’t see it.” 

Benedict flipped through the pages. “I just saw it. Ah. Here it is.” He cleared his throat and began to read aloud: 

“Breakfast offerings: Assorted muffins, fresh-squeezed orange juice, coffee/tea.” 

“That’s what we offer every morning here,” said Carly. “If Maria’s feeling particularly energetic, she’ll also whip up croissants.” 

Benedict frowned. “Well, for starters, not everyone fancies orange juice.” 

“We can add apple and cranberry,” suggested Donna. 

“Grapefruit is also popular,” remarked Carly. “We can juice those, too.” 

“I would forgo the fresh-squeezed juices,” suggested Steven. “That’s a lot of extra work. You can buy it wholesale along with the other juices, and it’s just as good.” 

“In _your_ opinion,” said Carly snidely. 

“Duly noted,” said Donna, lips pressed into a straight line. 

_His opinion has been mentally tossed by both of them,_ thought Benedict. 

“I suppose you plan on buying an apple press to get the apple juice,” mused Steven. “I’m looking forward to hearing how you intend to juice the cranberries? Hand squeeze them one at a time….” 

“Very funny, Steve!” said Carly. 

“Jeez Steve! I never expected _you_ to be the one to give us a hard time,” said Donna, casting a sideways glance at Benedict who rolled his eyes at her. 

“No one in their right mind juices cranberries for fucks sake. Aren’t they seasonal?” Benedict asked. 

“Nothing beats the taste of fresh-squeezed juice,” said Carly dismissively. “Don’t tell me you can’t tell the difference, Steve, because you can and have on more than one occasion!” 

_We need to bugger off. They already have their minds made up on that point,_ thought Benedict. _The first time they attempt to juice enough oranges and grapefruits for a crew of fifty will put an end to that idea.  
_

“We already have a commercial juicer from a restaurant supply house,” declared Donna. “That’s how we make our fresh-squeezed orange juice in the first place. Did you two really think we’d be crazy enough to hand-squeeze?” she asked in disbelief. 

“Of course not,” laughed Steven. “I was just kidding around.” 

_Yes, I did think that, Donna; but that teaches me a lesson to look around at the equipment you have in the kitchen the next time I’m here,_ he thought. _  
_

_Yes, I did think that, Love; but what do I know? I’m just a drippy actor._

Benedict nudged Steven’s foot with his before continuing: 

“They will be expecting porridge and assorted cold cereals, fresh fruit and some kind of bap – you should probably offer a different kind each morning.” 

“How about if we add bagels?” offered Carly. “We can use Bubbe’s Bagels near Blackfriars. They make a decent bagel.” 

“Don’t these people eat breakfast before they leave the house?” asked Donna incredulously. “Pretty soon you’ll be telling me they expect made-to-order eggs and omelets.” 

“Some production companies hire caterers that cook eggs to order,” affirmed Benedict. “You need to keep in mind that the crew arrives on set much earlier than the cast does in order to set up the equipment and whatever else needs to be done before the actual shooting begins. They often don’t have time to eat before heading out. These people work very hard and will have worked up an appetite. They will be looking for something more substantial than a muffin, like a bacon and egg bap for instance before they have a muffin.” 

Donna and Carly exchanged concerned looks. 

“Shall I continue?” asked Benedict. 

Steven nodded. “I’m all ears. Let’s move onto lunch.” 

“Wait,” said Benedict. “I don’t see a mid-morning snack. What do you plan to serve for snacks?” 

“Why would they want a snack? We just gave them breakfast,” exclaimed Donna. 

Benedict smirked. “Because, Darling, if you’re serving breakfast at half five or six…” 

“That early?  That really shouldn't matter as Carldonn opens at six.” 

“The crew often starts around five, sometimes earlier if there’s an early morning location shoot. Sets have to be dressed, lighting and other equipment must be put into place, special effects need to be set up. The set has to be ready when the actors arrive. These people work hard. Believe me; they will be peckish and looking for a mid-morning snack.” 

“What do they expect to snack on?” asked Carly. 

Benedict thought for a moment. “If it were me doing the catering, I’d simply make sure to always have a basket of fresh fruit, a cheese plate with crackers and crudités, some sweets and biscuits on hand. Coffee and tea service must be available through the shoot along with bottled water and soft drinks.” 

“Then they’ll be too full to want lunch,” observed Donna. 

Benedict chuckled. “Not in the slightest. Let’s see what your idea of a main is, shall we?” 

“They eat all day long,” whispered Carly under her breath. “I had no idea!” 

“No wonder Benedict doesn’t eat that much at dinner after he’s been filming all day! He’s full from all that food they’ve got on the set!” whispered back Donna. 

“Lunch offerings (to vary each day): Pasta or other hot entree, salad, hot sandwich, cold sandwich, assorted cookies, dessert of the day, fresh fruit salad, soft drinks, coffee/tea.” 

“Better?” asked Donna hopefully. 

Benedict shook his head. “There are usually two mains, always at least two vegetables in addition to a salad. Some type of bread or rolls and butter are a must. I would skip the fresh fruit salad in favour of the never-ending basket of whole pieces of fresh fruit, which will hold up better.” 

“I think we could do that,” said Carly. “All we have to do is tweak our menu here. I think the key is to offer the same foods here as to the film crew. We don’t have to have six different sandwiches every day. That way it won’t become overwhelming.” 

“Our customers may also like the idea of a hot entrée or two,” added Donna. “Good idea, Curly Carly!” 

“I don’t see any mention of tea,” observed Benedict with a frown. “What do you intend to serve for tea?” 

“Tea?” asked Donna and Carly together.

“You just read off coffee and tea,” pointed out Carly. “We’ll have tea all day long. The same flavors that we have here. That’s not a problem at all. We’ll serve decaf and regular versions, so all tastes will be covered.” 

Benedict shook his head. “I’m referring to that little tradition we refer to here as _afternoon tea_ – the meal that’s served in between lunch and dinner.” 

“Afternoon tea like they serve at the Ritz? They expect that, too?” asked Carly incredulously. “What about a nice afternoon snack of cookies and maybe some assorted chips – crisps, I mean?” 

“Is that in lieu of an afternoon snack?” asked Steven expectantly. 

Benedict nodded. “Yeah. It should be served around three o’clock. You definitely can have flexibility here. Finger sandwiches, scones, biscuits or fairy cakes, jam or custard tarts are always popular.” 

“Won’t that spoil everyone’s dinner?” ventured Donna. 

“Not everyone eats everything offered, Love,” replied Benedict. “However, there must be food and beverages available to accommodate the cast and crew throughout the day.” 

“Jesus Christ, that’s a lot of food,” mumbled Carly. “Maria and Karl could never handle that – not even with us pitching in!” 

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck. “Have you considered what you would serve in the event of a night shoot?” 

“Night shoot?” Donna and Carly asked at the same time. 

“Yeah. Filming doesn’t always occur between nine and five. The hours vary depending upon what scenes are being shot on any particular day. In the event of a night shoot, you would be expected to provide dinner.” 

“Which I assume would be a completely different menu from the lunch one,” mused Steven. “Shit! This is like running a restaurant, girls.” 

Benedict nodded. “It is. It’s a full time job. And we didn’t even discuss the fact that if the shoot is overnight, the cast and crew will be expecting a hot breakfast; and by that I mean a full English…” 

“In addition to snacks throughout the evening,” finished Donna. 

“Absolutely,” confirmed Benedict, putting down the proposal and stretching in his chair. 

Donna sat back in her chair. Carly appeared to be totally overwhelmed. 

_Oh my stars! What am I getting us into? Who knew film catering was such a damn production? Carly is definitely waffling, especially since Benedict began relaying all this information to us. One minute she’s with me, then the next she’s leaning towards shelving the whole idea. I’m sure we can work it out. I can’t imagine Mark’s friend being that demanding._

“Wow,” said Carly in a small voice. “I’m not so sure about this, Donna. I think I need more time to think this over.” 

“I know it sounds daunting, but I’m completely confident we can do it, Carly! We will need to hire another chef and someone to do kitchen prep. We can take turns dropping off and setting up the food. The mornings will just be busier.” 

“And if you’re working at the Tribune on any particular day, what am I supposed to do? Or if I have to meet a client?” 

“We’ll just hire a student to fill in as a delivery person. College students are always looking for part time work and have flexible schedules.” 

Benedict sat back and crossed his legs. “Ummm…someone has to remain on set for the whole time. If there are a lot of mouths to feed, then you’ll require two people on set at least.” 

“Why do we have to stay?” asked Donna in a baffled tone. “I thought we just drop it off and the producer takes it from there.” 

Benedict shook his head. “Nope. That’s not the way it works, Love. The caterer’s responsibility does not end with delivery of the food – unless specified by the producer. The caterer ensures that the food is delivered on time to the specified location. Then they set it up, making sure to keep hot things hot and cold things cold. The coffee and tea service has to be constantly replenished throughout the length of the shoot. In between meals and afterwards, the caterer is expected to clean and pack up everything.” 

Carly held her head. “Oh my God. It’s nonstop!” 

“You are basically setting up, serving and cleaning for the length of the shoot,” confirmed Benedict. “This is what the production company is hiring you for.” 

“What if the cooking can’t be done here at Carldonn? For example, they decide to make egg sandwiches for breakfast. I’m assuming there are facilities in the studios,” said Steven. 

“Most of the cooking and preparation should be done here. Sometimes there is a canteen, but the equipment available in the kitchen will vary from kitchen-to-kitchen. Some are meant to handle full on cooking, while others are mainly used for holding things until serving time.  You're lucky to find a couple of gas burners in those.  You're also best off avoiding things that have to be cooked at the last minute. On location they use trailers that have fully-fitted out kitchens and seating areas.” 

“Where in the hell do we get a trailer?” asked Carly. “That must cost a fortune to rent!” 

“If it’s a location shoot, the production company will definitely provide a trailer.” 

Donna made some notes on a pad. Benedict noticed she looked a bit put off. 

“Wow,” said Carly again. “That _is_ a full time job.” 

“No wonder it takes so long to film a show! The cast and crew are busy eating all day long!” scoffed Donna, tossing her pen on the desk in disgust. 

“It certainly sounds like it can be a sun up to sun down proposition,” quipped Steven.  “This is not something you can do on the side. It’s a full time commitment.” 

“Do they film _every_ day?” asked Carly. 

“It depends on the filming schedule and if it’s being adhered to,” replied Benedict. “They usually suspend work on Sundays...it all depends on whether they fall behind or not.” 

Donna huffed and sat back in her chair. “I thought they would at least give you off on weekends!” 

“I just worked part of a Saturday and Sunday because the schedule fell behind due to the woman I was doing scenes with taking ill for a couple of days,” said Benedict. 

“You won’t have a life,” commented Steven bitterly. “We barely see each other as is, Carla!” 

“That’s because you work all the time,” countered Carly. 

“That’s what doctors do. You knew this when I went into medicine. Things will get easier once I’m practicing somewhere.” 

“Sometimes they don’t use the caterer _all_ day,” piped up Benedict. “I’ve been on shoots where they just send out for pizzas or sandwiches. It depends on the budget and whim of the production company. Hartswood Films has a reputation for taking brilliant care of their cast and crews from what I’ve heard.” 

Steven looked up at the women sitting on the opposite side of the desk. 

“That was very enlightening, Benedict. I now have a total understanding as to what’s involved. Thank you for joining us,” said Steven sincerely. 

“Thank you for including me. It was my pleasure. I felt it paramount that you all understand how it works before submitting that proposal.” 

Benedict studied Carly and Donna before he addressed them.   Carly looked as if she were definitely continuing to have second thoughts, while Donna seemed on the verge of becoming completely upset. 

“My intent is not to discourage or encourage you. I just wanted to make sure you both have a thorough understanding of what goes into proper catering for a film crew. Once you make a commitment you can’t just back out of it without consequences.” 

“For what it’s worth, I think you two are crazy to attempt this,” said Steven getting to his feet. He began to pace in the small space. “I trust that you’ll have Toni review the quote before contacting Mark Gatiss.You need to have a lawyer looks this over to make sure everything is clearly spelled out.” 

“And who better to protect our interests than Mom,” smiled Donna. “We can scan and email it to her. She’ll have most of the day left to review it.” 

“Your mother won’t be familiar with all the finer nuances of English law. I can have my solicitor look it over,” volunteered Benedict. 

“Hmmm…you make a good point, Benedict,” admitted Carly. “We definitely need someone with an understanding of the law here. I guess that would be what you call a solicitor.” 

“That’s a fine idea,” agreed Steven. “Let me know what the fee is, and I’ll take care of it.” 

“There will be no fee,” assured Benedict. “My mate, Dennis, is my solicitor and would never bill me for reviewing a contract that involved Donna.” 

_Not to mention I doubt this proposal will ever reach Mark Gatiss’ hands. I’m fairly confident that I’m on the verge of stopping this folly in its tracks,_ thought Benedict with complete confidence. 

“I have to get back to the hospital,” said Steven as he made his way around the desk and kissed Carly goodbye. “I’ll see you later, Hun.” 

“I could use some fresh air. I’ll walk you to the tube station,” offered Carly. “I’ll be right back, Donna,” she said, closing the door to the office behind her and Steven.

 

 

 

Once they were alone, Donna got up and sat on Benedict’s lap. He wrapped his arms around her and looked into her hazel eyes, which were filled with doubt. 

“Just relax,” he said softly. “You’ll manage to sort it out.” 

“You know, before you started talking, I was so damn sure that I had it all figured out. I had complete confidence in our proposal. Now, I don’t know what to do! Carly’s obviously not convinced we can pull this off.” 

“Are you?” 

“Not entirely. I’m vacillating back and forth,” admitted Donna. 

Benedict smoothed her fringe back off her face and kissed her forehead. 

“There is no deadline from what I recall. However, I’ve got a deadline for when I’ve got to be back at the table read. How about we take advantage of the time we have now?” 

Donna slowly traced the outline of his Cupid’s bow lips with her index finger before leaning in to kiss him ever-so-slowly. She pulled back after a minute and regarded him with curiosity. 

“Mmmm…what’s this I taste on your lips? Chocolate?” 

Benedict grinned. “I bought a chocolate lip balm at the chemist this morning while I was picking up my allergy meds. Do you like it?” 

“I’m not sure. Let me try it again so I can give it a suitable review,” smiled Donna as she planted another deliberately languid kiss on his lips. 

Benedict regarded her with raised eyebrows. “Well then?” 

Donna giggled. “Maybe one more time, just to be sure.” 

Benedict loved how she took her time kissing him thoroughly. He shivered as she swept her tongue over his lips and gently sucked and nibbled on his lower lip, causing him to elicit a low moan of pleasure. 

_Oh, God. Her kisses are truly heaven on earth. I could just float away.  
_

_How easily I could lose track of time kissing him. The others will wonder what we’re still doing in here with the door shut, especially nosy Karl._

Donna broke the kiss and saw that Benedict’s eyes were still closed and lips puckered in anticipation of another one. His ice blue eyes suddenly popped open when he realized she was done kissing him. Donna could see that he was clearly disappointed that she wasn’t continuing. 

“Have you had enough then?” Benedict whispered in her ear. “I can apply some more if you still haven’t made up your mind. I’m more than eager to assist you in your review.” 

“I can _feel_ your eagerness,” quipped Donna, as she slightly shifted her bottom on his lap. 

Benedict chuckled deeply. “Yes, you might say that the sleeping beast is stirring in his cave.” 

“Talk about hokey things to say…” 

“Bugger off, Donna and kiss me, damn it!” he growled. 

Benedict took her face in both his hands and gave her a deep, wet, passionate kiss that made her head spin. She felt breathless when he finally broke the kiss. Her lipstick was smeared, and she could see traces of it on his lips. 

Donna rested her forehead against his. “I can _never_ get enough of your kisses.” 

Benedict smiled smugly as he slid his hand under her dress and gently caressed her thigh. “I feel the same way about you. Give me another one,” he commanded. “I’m still waiting to hear your review.” 

Donna kissed him yet again. “Yes, I definitely have to give this lip balm a very favorable review. It has a rich, pleasing, chocolaty flavor and makes your lips feel silky and very, _very_ soft. I would recommend it to all my readers.” 

“Brilliant! I’ll make sure to go back to the chemist and lay in a case. Now, kiss me again – just to be sure!” 

She kissed him again as his hand moved even higher on her thigh until she could feel his fingers graze her mound, which caused her to automatically move against his hand. 

_Why did I wear panty hose today?_   _Because the Tribune has a stupid dress code and expects business dress.  No bare legs._

“Bloody hell! I thought you were wearing stockings.” 

“Sorry to disappoint you…” 

_And myself for that matter._

“I can feel you’re wearing fucking tights.” 

“And I can feel you getting harder underneath me.” 

“Take those fucking things off so I can touch you properly!” 

_Easier said than done. I’ve got to get up and wiggle out of these, which feel glued to my body as is. He thinks he’s going to get an erotic show. He’ll probably wind up doubled over with a laughing fit.  
_

Donna could feel his long fingers ghosting over her vulva, trying to probe against the nylon. 

“You’re going to have to take these off or pull them down at least. I can’t find your clit,” he said, beginning to tug at her tights impatiently. 

_Come to your senses, Donna. You’re in a place of business with people working in the kitchen and store. Carly will be back soon and catch you or one of the others could just walk in.  
_

“No? How about spreading your legs a bit wider then?” 

“Not here, Benedict! We’re in my office!”

“You can always lock the door.” 

“Stand down, Mr. Cumberbatch. We’re not fooling around in my office. It’s not like we’re the only ones here,” said Donna sternly. “Carly must be on her way back by now.” 

“Do we have time to go to your flat then?” 

“I’ve got the rest of the day free, but you don’t. What about your read-through?” 

Benedict sighed deeply with frustration and consulted the office clock. 

“I’ve got about half an hour left on my break.” 

“There’s not enough time to do anything.” 

“There _is_ if you lock the door. I can be quite speedy when I want to be,” he said waggling his eyebrows at her. 

“ _You_ may be speedy, but _I’m_ not.” 

“Oh, I don’t know about that. Last night you came very quickly for me.” 

Donna sighed. “That was the result of all my pent-up sexual tension.” 

“I’d love nothing more than to release your tension again.” 

“Please take no for an answer, Ben,” said Donna firmly. 

“As you wish, Darling.” 

Benedict reluctantly removed his hand from underneath her dress and primly smoothed it down over her thighs. 

_She’s right of course. The chances of getting caught in the act are very high. I can wait until later, but it doesn’t mean I have to like it.  
_

Donna took a tissue and gently wiped all traces of her lipstick off his swollen pink lips. Then she wiped off hers with the intent of reapplying it once Benedict had gone. 

_Oh, he’s put on his pouty face. He wanted to play around here. I just can’t do it here in a place of business. It doesn’t seem right, and I wouldn’t be able to relax._

“Tell you what. Stop by tonight after the read through, and I’ll make you lasagna for dinner. Then we’ll release each other’s tension for dessert.” 

“I might have to have two helpings of pudding then. I really have quite an insatiable appetite when it comes to sweets of _all_ kinds.” 

“You’re on.” 

“It will be my pleasure to be _on_ you,” he snickered. “And I can’t wait for the day when I can be _in_ you.” 

“Neither can I. Soon, Ben Honey.”

_She hasn't a clue what that pet name does to me._

_Look how his eyes light up whenever I call him that. I love that sweet, goofy look that comes over his face.  It's so endearing._

“Mmmm…I know. What we’ve been doing has been…very soothing…very relaxing and...quite satisfying.” 

“It sure is.” 

“I keep fantasizing about what I’m going to do to you once we get to Cornwall. Remember that scene in the _Godfather_ where Sonny Corleone slams the bridesmaid against the wall that we were having a giggle over?” 

“Yeah. The one where they have rough sex, and she slams her head back against the wall. I thought you wanted a very romantic and tender coupling on our first time out? Have you changed your mind?” 

Benedict sighed. “Yes and no. It’s getting harder – especially when we have sleepovers; but I still want to fulfill my dream of making love to you properly in our own little love nest with epic cuddling afterwards. Then taking a long, citrusy-scented bubble bath together, followed by taking tea out on that private balcony wrapped up in nothing but those plush hotel robes while gazing out at the ocean.  Then we'll have one of those gourmet dinners, followed by a moonlit stroll along the beach to get the digestion going. Once we're back in the room, we'll feed each other chocolate-dipped strawberries and have some champagne to toast our love before making love in front of the fire."

_Gosh, he's so romantic!  I can't wait to get to Cornwall!_

“You _are_ a delightful dreamer, Benedict; and I’m sure I’ll be glad we held out until Cornwall when the time comes but...” Donna allowed her words to trail off. 

“But what?” 

“There are times when I wish I could talk you into having full on sex now rather than waiting until then.” 

“Actually, when it comes to shagging, you'll find that I’m quite easily seduced – but not this time, I’m afraid. I’m truly, completely in love this time; and I want to take things in their proper order…as they should be. Call me an old soul if you must, but I want to consummate our love nice and slow and with plenty of time to savour and enjoy our loving.” 

The couple sat quietly for several minutes holding hands, lost in their own thoughts. Finally, Donna broke the silence. 

“You really don’t want us to do it, do you?” _  
_

_What the fuck?_

Benedict blinked at her in surprise. “What? Of course I do! I want for us to have sex more than anything! Do you realize how many nights I wind up pleasuring myself because I’m so fucking randy all the time!” 

“I’m talking about the proposal to cater _Dr Who_.” 

_Oh.  What a horny tit I am. Of course that’s what she meant. I’m forever thinking with my knob._

Benedict didn’t respond one way or another. Donna gazed into his ice blue eyes and could see that he was clearly worried. She ran her fingertip over his lips again, causing him to shiver. 

“Please tell me what you _really_ think, Ben.” 

_Even though I already have an idea what he’s going to say.  
_

_For fucks sake! I thought my feelings were obvious during the meeting._

Benedict removed her finger from his lips and kissed the tip. 

“I think you’re setting yourself up for trouble.” 

“I’m convinced that in the end the potential to make a substantial profit far outweighs any risk.” 

“I can see that you’re hell bent on doing it. All for the sake of profit. Spoken like a true Ferengi. Well done you.” 

“Very funny, Mr. Cumberbatch! The _Star Trek_ reference was not wasted on me. I think I’m going to go with my gut instinct here or I’ll be forever second guessing myself. I think it’s a marvelous opportunity to make extra money, while doing something different. It’s going to be a lot of fun!” 

_That’s what you think. You’re not going to talk her out of it, Benedict. Perhaps Carly will squash the idea or hopefully, her husband will be able to talk her out of it._

“Whatever your decision, I will support you,” sighed Benedict with reluctance. 

“I appreciate your saying that, Ben Honey.” Donna gave him a soft kiss on the lips. “By the way, thank you for the beautiful cabbage roses. All the girls at the Tribune make such a fuss whenever you send me flowers.” 

“You’re welcome. I acted like a total prick this morning and wanted to apologize again.” 

Donna rested her head on Benedict’s shoulder. “We’ve been spending a lot of time apologizing to each other lately,” she said sadly. “We were getting along so well, then all of a sudden…” 

“We decided to enter into a relationship and that brings much more intimacy than we had shared prior to making a commitment. It’s all the little things we’re finding out about each other. Like my being stropy when it comes to getting up in the morning or my penchant for having the last word. I know I can be quite a selfish and cantankerous bastard, not to mention my anxiety tends to get the best of me at times.” 

“As you’ve pointed out, I’m borderline OCD and way too much of a perfectionist. I’m overly punctual to a fault. There are times when I wish I weren’t so obsessed with being on time because it drives everyone around me nuts. I am also fond of having the last word and can be unnecessarily judgmental at times. I realize I’m stubborn when I think I’m right – like now with the proposal. I’m also guilty of being selfish as well…” 

“You’re a right a bed hog, too.” 

_And you fart in your sleep, but I’m not going to bring that up because you can't help that anymore than I can control where I roll while I'm sleeping._

“The king sized bed pretty much remedied that though, don’t you think, Ben?” 

“Mostly.” 

“Mostly?” 

“I think because sleeping together is still a novel experience, we tend to gravitate towards each other in our sleep,” mused Benedict. 

“Humph. Then you’ll be bitching in ten years that we don’t sleep close enough to each other,” Donna laughed.  “You’ll want to buy one of those ridiculously tiny double beds.” 

Benedict guffawed. “No way in fucking hell is that ever going to happen! We need our space in bed to peacefully co-exist. I think Saturday night proved that once and for all. I don’t intend to spend my life sleeping in chairs, while you’re sprawled out all nice and comfy in the middle of our bed.” 

“I wouldn’t want you to, Benedict. Getting a good night’s rest is important to both people sharing the bed.” 

_Wait until he finds out I’ve got a queen-sized bed in my New York townhouse.  
_

_Wait until the first time she has to stay over at my parents’ places in Gloucestershire and Greece. I only have a twin bed there._

“It’s been a rocky road learning how to compromise and making our lives fit together,” mused Donna. 

“I think we’re doing rather well all things considered,” smiled Benedict, stroking her hair. “Living together is always a work in progress, I think. Half the fun is that we’re always finding out new things about each other.” 

“Is that what we’re doing?” 

“Not on a full time basis. Would you fancy a try at living together full time? You are welcome to move into my flat. I’m certainly ready to cohabitate with you.” 

_Wow! He wants us to live together. That’s a big step. Am I ready for that? Do I want to do that yet? I’m subletting this really nice, modern apartment with tons of room, and he wants me to move into his tiny one with no air conditioning. However, Marco’s email may be what helps me make a decision.  
_

“You don’t have to answer me right away, Donna.” 

“Hmmm…I may have to take you up on your offer. Marco, the man I sublet the place from, sent me an email this morning. He thought everything was set for another year, but something came up so he’s still negotiating his contract to stay in Saudi Arabia. If things don’t work out and he comes back to London, I’ll have to move. For the time being, I’d like to stay put. I think we still need our own space for a while longer.” 

Benedict nodded. “I understand. Just say the word when you’re ready, and I’ll make sure to change the sheets.” 

“You scare me sometimes, Benedict.” 

“I scare myself.” 

“I love sharing this rocky road with you, and I also love you very much.” 

“And I love you, Donna. More than I can adequately convey. Just know that you will always be first and foremost in my heart. I have to get back before the director sends out a search party or worse, sacks me. I’m afraid you won’t be seeing much of me this week. I’ve got rehearsals scheduled every day and will most likely take up my evenings, too. So I can’t promise dinner tonight, but I’ll try. Tell you what. Plan on my coming, and I’ll text or call you if I get held up,” explained Benedict, digging into his pocket. “Here’s your ticket for Friday night’s taping of _The Turning Point_ , along with two extra in case Carly and Steven care to join you.” 

“Thanks! I can’t wait to see you acting on a stage.” 

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck. “Erm… Just to warn you, the actor who plays Winston Churchill will be smoking real cigarettes, so you may want to choose seats in the back so the smoke won’t be as bothersome.” 

“Are you kidding me? I want to sit in the first row, so I can see you closely.” 

“It’s a small theatre. The view will be good from all the seats. I’m just thinking about your health.” 

_And in case I have to switch over to real tobacco._

“You’ll be smoking those herbal ones, so there will just be smoke from his.” 

Benedict ran his hand through his hair and hesitated slightly before replying. 

“Yeah. I _intend_ to use them. The director procured some especially for me.” 

_I notice how he emphasizes ‘intend’. I wouldn’t be surprised if he caves._

_And they taste like absolute shit. Aside from that they make me fucking nauseous and my head feel woozy after I’ve smoked a few. However, I’m doing this for her health, as well as my own. I guess I’m doing this for us. We’re an ‘us’ now._

“Thank you, Benedict. That means a lot to me. Do they smell like the real ones?” 

“Erm…not really. They smell sort of …herbally…grass-like with heavy overtones of clove, depending on the brand…” 

“Oh, so they will taste spicy – like holiday spices. That doesn’t sound so bad.” _  
_

_Yeah. Holiday-spiced feces if you must know. I hope I can stomach smoking two whole packs of the shit without puking my brains out on the stage. Dress rehearsal should be quite telling._

“Not _really_ ,” grimaced Benedict. “That would take a real stretch of the imagination.” 

“I’ll make sure to bring along enough Kleenex and wear my waterproof eye makeup. I wouldn’t miss this for the world! I actually really curious to smell those herbal cigarettes.” 

_Isn’t she the ever curious one? And yet she’s forever teasing me about being insatiable when it comes to fueling my quest for knowledge._

“If you’ve ever been in a cow pasture, you already know then. They smell and taste like clove-laced shit with some grass tossed in to try and mask the scent,” Benedict laughed harshly and immediately stopped when he saw the taken aback expression on Donna’s face. “I’m joking when I say that. It actually will be hard to distinguish the scent. As I said, Mathew Marsh will be smoking real ones. Tobacco smoke will definitely overpower whatever smoke emits from the herbal ones. I’d really seriously consider sitting in the back if I were you.” 

“Maybe I’ll bring my mask.” 

“NO! The play is being taped and televised live – you can’t sit in the front row wearing a bloody mask!” 

Donna nodded understandingly. “Okay. I understand. The mask stays home. I’m sure you’ll manage just fine. Now, how about giving me one more of your delectable kisses before you go?” 

_If I can’t tolerate those crap herbal ones, at least Donna won’t be able to tell if I have to make the switch to tobacco. That will be my nasty little secret, God help me,_ thought Benedict Cumberbatch as he immersed himself in another of Donna Saint James’ sweet kisses.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Good luck to Benedict at the Oscars tonight. Anyone watching?
> 
> 2\. I haven’t a clue how catering for a film crew works or actually entails. I did do a bit of research, but mostly it is made up to suit my plot line.
> 
> 3\. I also haven’t a clue as to what herbal cigarettes are like.
> 
> 4\. I also have no idea who would make catering decisions for a show – I’m guessing it would be the show runner/producer, which in the case of Dr. Who would be Steven Moffat.
> 
> 5\. There is no Bubbe's Bagels in Blackfriars. Total fictitious.


	78. Chapter 78

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all: A Milestone This Week - Over 1000 Kudos! My heartfelt thanks to all my lovely readers! xxoo
> 
> Part One of Sunday lunch with the Cumberbatches as final preparations are made in Kensington. Benedict makes a confession. Timothy’s suspicions are confirmed.
> 
> Note: I’ll be using ******** to indicate things happening at the same time

  

Donna Saint James was impatiently waiting in the lobby of her apartment building on Sunday morning when her sister came out of the elevator. 

“Where are you off to, Curly Carly?” Donna greeted her sister. 

“The same place I go every Sunday morning – to get your brother-in-law his bagel fix. It doesn’t matter where in the world Steve may be, but Sunday morning signifies bagels for breakfast. Nothing else will do.” 

“Hmmm…it’s not easy to get a decent New York style bagel here.” 

“Bube’s is the closest we’re going to get to Murray’s, so he’s been managing to make do. The man has a yen for an onion bagel with lox and cream cheese, so I thought I’d go while he’s still sleeping.” 

“I miss Murray’s Bagels,” said Donna wistfully. “It’s the water that makes the difference.” 

“Perhaps we should ask Mom and Dad to bring a couple of dozen on the plane when they come over next. I bet the other passengers will love that,” smirked Carly. “Can you imagine having to fly seven hours across the Atlantic smelling onion and cinnamon raisin bagels the whole time? Do you remember when they used to bring them down to Florida while we were in the college program?” 

Donna’s eyes widened in alarm. “Vividly. You said when Mom and Dad next come over. Do you know something I don’t know?” 

“Meaning?” 

“Are Mom and Dad planning on coming here for a visit?” 

“You’re being paranoid, Donna! Not that I’ve heard, but you do realize it’s only a matter of them clearing their schedules and booking the flights. They are going to want to check out Benedict in person.” 

“I know,” said Donna with resignation. “I live in fear of my email inbox. I’m just waiting for the flight information. Poor Benedict. He thinks they were bad on Skype. Wait until he gets to experience them in person. He’ll probably break up with me.” 

“Benedict is going to have to learn to deal with them if he has any intention of becoming part of our family one day. Believe it or not, Sister, you and he will get through it. We all have. Speaking of Benedict, I thought you would have been gone by now,” said Carly, checking her watch. “Aren’t you supposed to be at his parents by eleven thirty?” 

“This is Benedict we’re talking about. He’s on his own schedule.” 

“I don’t know how you don’t explode every time you have to go somewhere with him. I’d kill him.” 

“I’m calling upon every reserve of self-control I have, which isn’t a lot, as you know,” sighed Donna. “I’ve been trying to accept that this is his nature, and he’s not going to change.” 

Carly barked out a laugh. “Excuse me, but I can’t believe I just heard you spout such complete and utter bullshit! Did you take a sedative or something?” 

“No. Of course not!” sniffed Donna. “I’m working on being more mature and accepting about these things. It’s called compromise.” 

Carly continued to laugh. “Oh, this truly _must_ be love! You’d never stand for that if it were anyone else. You used to give Michael such a hard time about being late, and Danny was totally intimidated by you. I remember he used to come extra early and sit outside in the car until it was time to pick you up.” 

“Those days are over,” said Donna dismissively. “You’re looking at the new and improved Donna Saint James. Patience is my new middle name.” 

Carly starting laughing all over again. “Please stop, Donna! This is just too funny. I know you better than anyone else, and you will never change. Come on. Tell me the truth. How many times have you called his cellphone already?” 

Donna stared at her sandals. 

“C’mon, Donna! How many? I know you called him. You can’t help yourself.” 

“Just two,” answered Donna meekly. 

Carly grinned. “ _Only_ two? Wow. I am impressed. You have changed.” 

“It’s going right to his voicemail.” 

“Ha ha ha! He knows what a pain-in-the-ass you can be! I hope you didn’t leave him snippy messages.” 

“No. I didn’t.” 

“Now, that really _is_ being patient – for you that it!” 

“I told you I’m getting better.” 

“And it doesn’t bother you that he’ll see your number come up as missed calls?” 

Donna smacked her forehead. 

“Shit. I forgot about that.” 

 

***************************************************

  

Benedict Cumberbatch slammed the door to his flat, locking it behind him and took the stairs two at a time to the common entrance foyer. 

_Motherfucker! I can’t believe I’m going to be late again. I even made sure to get my arse out of bed early. If only I had remembered to put the fucking wet laundry in the dryer last night, I wouldn’t be in this predicament. Now, I don’t have time to stop by Kensington first. Damn, damn, damn._

After setting the alarm and locking the door to the house, Benedict got into his car and pulled out his mobile phone. The message light was flashing. 

_Shit! I know who that is ringing me.  
_

Sure enough there were two missed calls from Donna Saint James. 

_Crap! If I don’t hit any traffic, I can be there mostly on time. Let me check in with Mum and Dad while I’m driving._

Benedict started the car and began heading into Central London. He placed a call to his parents’ landline. It rang four times before someone finally picked up. 

_“Hello,”_ came Timothy’s melodious voice. 

“Hi Dad. How’s it going?” 

_“Who’s speaking, please?”  
_

“Come on, Dad! It’s me!” 

_“I fear I don’t recognize this voice. I don’t know too many ‘me’s’”._

“Point made and taken, Dad. Sorry for not ringing you sooner.” _  
_

_“You had said you were coming over one night for dinner as you had to ask us something. Then you texted your mother that you were coming over this morning because there was something important you had to ask us. I have to tell you that it’s a good thing we weren’t holding our breath or you’d be calling the mortuary to come pick us up due to death by asphyxiation.”  
_

_He’s skipped stropy and gone straight to pissed off at me. He’s not wrong though. Maybe I can talk him around. I really can’t have him pissed off at me today of all fucking days!_

“It’s been a wicked week, Dad – and not in a good way. I had an audition for another Indie movie, which I won’t hear back on for a week or so. Then the rehearsals for The Turning Point went longer than expected. I had preliminary costume fittings for Sherlock and makeup and hair tests followed by meetings with John about future projects and checking in with Karon…the days just slipped away and before I knew it…” 

_“Somehow I doubt you showed your girlfriend the same lack of consideration as you did us,”_ interrupted Timothy, voice dripping with sarcasm. _  
_

_Hmmm….well, if truth be told, Dad….I wasn’t the model boyfriend this week either.  
_

“I did prepare her not to expect to see a lot of me this week.” 

_“Ah, that translates to I didn’t ring her either. I remember how angry Olivia used to get when you pulled crap like that with her. And here I thought true love would reform you. I suppose a leopard can’t change its spots.”_    

“You’re not being very understanding, Dad.” 

_“You think so? Well, I disagree. Honestly, Ben, you could have simply emailed or texted your question if it was so blasted important. In that way your mother wouldn’t have spent the past few nights preparing special meals for you that you never bothered to show up for.”  
_

Benedict felt a strong pang of guilt at his father’s words as they hit home. 

_For fucks sake! Donna hasn’t really spoken with me in days – except for before the cast party Friday night – and she’s been nothing short of very understanding and supportive. She didn’t even get angry when I told her the party was just for the cast, and I had to send her back to her flat in a cab. However, Dad’s not wrong. That was thoughtless not to have rang them or sent a text. I need to stop getting so caught up in everything and pay more attention to those I love. I need to apologize and set things right between us.  
_

“Erm…Dad….you’re…” 

However, Timothy rolled right over his son’s words. He was determined to have his say. 

_Not so fast, Benedict. I’m not quite done dressing you down yet.  
_

_“Your mother’s been away working and hasn’t had a chance to catch her breath since she got home. She has spent literally every waking moment making preparations for this lunch. She’s been running around to the shops laying in food and ironing the tablecloths and serviettes. I’ve been drafted to polish the damn silver even, and you know how much I don’t love that! Why we’ve even had dress rehearsals of laying the bloody table.”  
_

“I told her that she needn’t treat this as if it were a royal visit, Dad. I’m just bringing around my girlfriend for fucks sake! Donna wouldn’t care if she made tuna mayo sarnies!” 

Timothy snorted and gave a harsh laugh. _  
_

_“Fancy a bet, my boy? Donna’s a food critic, and she’ll be evaluating everything your mother sets out today. I’d be just as nervous if I were cooking for a food critic. I pleaded with her to have the lunch in a restaurant, but she wouldn’t hear of it.”  
_

“I offered to stop and bring takeaway, so Mum wouldn’t have to cook, but she wouldn’t hear of it.” 

_“Of course she wouldn’t. This is the first time she’s meeting your girlfriend and she wants to make a good impression. You can’t serve bloody takeaway to a prospective daughter-in-law!”  
_

“If I had any idea that this was going to turn into such a…” 

“ _Your mother’s not a young woman, and you didn’t need to add to her stress.”_

“Erm…well, you know….” 

_“I’m not done yet, Benedict. When your mother’s stressed, I’m stressed; which is something I don’t appreciate or expect from you at your age! I personally don’t give a damn what you’ve got on your plate. We’re all busy! However, when you say you’re going to do something, I expect you to act like a grown man and honour your words.”  
_

Benedict felt his ears burning. Timothy’s scolding had taken him right back to his childhood. 

_Dad hasn’t lost his knack for cutting me down to size has he! This just reminded me of the time he caught Adam and I smoking spliffs in the garage. That dressing down was far worse though…and there were consequences. That’s one of the saving graces about being an adult; he can’t take away my motorbike or allowance.  
_

_“Well then?”  
_

“You are right, of course; and I apologize for my selfish actions.” _  
_

_It seems like I’ve been doing nothing but apologizing the past week!_ Thought Benedict. _  
_

_“So, what do I owe to the pleasure of this call?”  
_

_He’s still miffed. Well done me.  
_

“I’m calling about today actually.” 

There was silence on the other end of the phone. 

_“I hope to heaven you’re not ringing us to tell me that you and Donna aren’t coming to lunch.”_

“Do you honestly think I would ring you up at the last minute and cancel?” 

There was silence on the other end of the phone. 

_For fucks sake! He does think I would do that._

_No. Given your track record, my son, you’d just not bother showing up. Then you’d ring us in a couple of days when you remembered or got around to it._

_“If I have to go by the nights you didn’t show up or ring us, I’d have to say it’s a distinct possibility, Ben.”_

“No. No. It’s nothing like that, Dad. As a matter of fact, I’m on my way to pick Donna up now. We should be there close to half eleven….give or take a few minutes either way.” 

_And I know just which way it’ll be_ , thought Timothy. _It’s always the give with him. I bet Donna loves his perpetual tardiness. The day we met her at the Orangery, she was early._

_“I’ll let your mother know then.”_

 “Erm…Dad, I was wondering if you could get out one of the scrapbooks that Mum keeps with my reviews in it.” 

_“Why? Do you plan on impressing Donna with all those glowing reviews? I would have thought by now you had already sufficiently impressed her,”_ chuckled Timothy good-naturedly. 

_Sounds like I’ve been forgiven. Thank God!_

Benedict hesitated. “It’s not the good ones I want, Dad. It’s that small book Mum has with the not-so-good ones in it. I want to see that letter she wrote that time to the fuck who was in London filling in for that cock sucker Renfield…you know the one I’m talking about yes?” 

_I sure do. It’s the one I’ve been wondering about myself but haven’t the time to search for. Benedict obviously suspects the same._

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone as Timothy digested what his son had told him. 

“Dad? Are you still there?” 

_“Yeah. I’m here. So, you want to show your girlfriend your bad reviews then? My, I must say, Ben; that’s a very humble and novel approach to impressing her.”_

“I don’t want to show Donna that book at all. I need to look in it. I just need to be sure of something before I say anything.” 

There was more silence on the other end of the phone. 

“Dad?” 

_“I’m here, Ben; and yes, I’ll make sure to get out the book. I’ll leave it in the desk drawer in your old room. That way you can take it home or look at it at your leisure.”_

“Thanks, Dad. See you soon. And please tell Mum to be calm. I just know she’s going to love Donna – and you will, too, once you get to know her.” 

_I do believe we already do, Son._

_“Cheers,”_ said Timothy as he rang off. 

 

*************************************************

  

“So today you officially meet the Cumberbatch clan. What I wouldn’t give to be a fly on the wall,” giggled Carly. 

Donna nodded. “I’m a wreck inside, Carly.” 

“Why? It’s not like you haven’t met Wanda and Timothy before. You’re partners in crime now.” 

“Please stop reminding me! I’m nervous because I have to try and make it look as if I’m meeting Wanda for the first time and that I only have a fleeting acquaintance with Tim.” 

“Will there be anyone else there?” 

“Yes. Benedict’s half-sister, Tracy, and her family.” 

“That doesn’t sound too bad. I had an audience of thirty when Steve brought me home to meet the Ciprianos for the first time. Surely, you can manage to pull it off. You weren’t in the Drama Club for nothing back in high school,” she said with a wink. 

“Shut up, Carla. It’s not funny. I can handle his sister’s family with no problem because I really _am_ meeting them for the first time. It’s Wanda and Tim I’m worried about. I’m terrified that I’ll slip …” 

“It was a good choice to wear flat sandals in that case. Just watch where you’re walking, and you’ll be fine.” 

“I’m not talking about slipping and falling!”

  _Though with my history, it is something to keep in the back of my mind. Wanda may still wax her floors._

“I don’t want to say anything to Wanda or Tim that will cause Benedict to become suspicious. We can’t have him find out about the …the plan, Carly!” 

“Sometimes I really wish you hadn’t confided in me about all this, Donna.” 

“Gosh! I have to have _somebody_ to talk to about this!” cried Donna. “And who better to confide in than my twin?” 

Carly nodded understandingly. “The things I do for you,” she teased. “Just remember, the less you say, the lower the odds that’ll you’ll say something you shouldn’t. Ask them about themselves. Keep the conversation light. Talk about your job, your family…” 

“Not the best idea in this case. Remember, Benedict and Daddy have a history. We don’t need to bring that up.” 

“Surely, he’s told Wanda and Tim by now.” 

“I don’t know. I hope not. It will make things even tenser. I wonder how Wanda and Timothy are holding up.” 

“Like everything else, Donna, they will find out sooner or later. Speaking of Benedict, isn’t that his car that’s illegally parked in front of the building?” 

 

*****************************************************

 

“What was that all about?” asked Wanda from the doorway to the kitchen. “It sounded as if you were giving a lecture on honour.” 

“I was. That was your son ringing to advise us that he’ll be more or less on time,” quipped Timothy. “Care to fancy a guess as to how late he’ll be? I would have said bet, but I’m low on funds right now.” 

“Jolly good. Just what I expected, so I’ll have until noon at least,” said Wanda. “I think I’ll lay the table now. I know just which linens I want to use. Care to help?” 

“I’ll be right with you, Commander. Unfortunately, I’ve been given additional orders by our son.” 

“Now what?” 

“He just wants to see some of his old reviews is all. I’ll go pull the scrapbook and leave it for him on his desk.” 

Wanda laughed. “Feeling nostalgic is he?” 

“I’m not one hundred percent sure, but I think I’ve got an idea.” 

“Which is?” 

“Oh, it’s not even worth mentioning at this point, Wanda. You’ve got more important things to do this morning. Your future daughter-in-law is coming to lunch!”

“Benedict hasn’t proposed yet.” 

“He will, and I say that with complete confidence. He’s completely over the moon. This time is forever.” 

“Let’s hope so!” smiled Wanda as she opened the drawer to her china cabinet and removed seven serviettes. “Oh, I bet he wants to show Donna his reviews. Isn’t that sweet? He wants to impress her. Ben is usually so modest about things like that. He rarely reads his reviews, which is probably not a bad idea. Some of those critics think their word is gospel. Like that fuck Rodney Renfield.” 

“I’ll be right back, Pet. Something smells delicious by the way.” 

“And that would be the beef roast, and it _does_ smell good,” said Wanda. “I can’t wait to tuck in, I’m so hungry.” 

“I did tell you to have some breakfast before you started puttering in the kitchen.” 

“There wasn’t time! I had to get the roast into the oven…speaking of which, I’d better give it a basting. I can’t serve a food critic dry meat!!” 

“I have only eaten melt-in-your-mouth, succulent beef roasts in this house,” complimented Timothy. 

“Compliments are always welcome, Love. Lord knows I can certainly use the pat on the back today!”

 “I hereby offer to pat more than your back after we send them all home.” 

“Now, that’s an offer that I will definitely take you up on!” said Wanda with a wink. “Off you go then, and don’t take all day.” 

“I shan’t be too long.” 

_I hope it’s not what I suspect,_ thought Timothy Carlton as he headed towards the master bedroom. _If so, it’s_ _going to kill her appetite for the roast and for me._

 

 

**********************************************************

 

 

Benedict Cumberbatch beeped the horn to get Donna’s attention and got out of the car. Carly and Donna watched as he hurried towards the entrance to the apartment building. 

“Not too bad,” said Carly, checking her watch. “I’d better be on my way. Have a good time, Donna. Be extra careful of what you say and don’t worry.” 

Donna watched as Benedict kissed Carly on both cheeks, and they exchanged a few words. Then he came into the building, making sure to greet Ralph, the daytime doorman. 

_He’s only half an hour late today! I must remember never to serve a soufflé when he’s coming over. I’d have to make it after he arrived. It’s a good thing I decided to wait in the air conditioning or this cheesecake would have melted.  
_

“Good Morning!” said Benedict cheerily, kissing her on the lips and drawing her in for a hug. “I’m sorry about not being able to see you yesterday, Darling. The meetings with my agent and PR woman went on for an age.” 

“I hope it was all about good things.” 

“Yeah. Very good actually. I’ve been sent some interesting scripts, which I’m going to have to read through. Yeah. I really had hoped we could have had dinner together…” 

“I told you last night it was okay. The apartment needed to be cleaned.” 

“I just feel really, really bad because I know you cooked dinner for me.” 

“Lasagna freezes well.” 

_Tiramisu, on the other hand, does not. However, Andrew and Stephen enjoyed it immensely._

“I still can’t believe that I completely forgot about my belated birthday celebration with my mates…” continued Benedict with a nervous laugh. 

_I had no problem believing it. Mr. Cumberbatch is feeling guilty._

“… and had to rush off when Adam texted me. Karon’s going to have my bloody head for leaving before our meeting was less than half over.” 

_Karon Maskill. She’s his PR person. I bet she loved that. I wonder what she’s like. He makes her sound so tough all the time, but I suppose she has to be with a client like him._

“That’s really okay, Benedict. The fact that you called to let me know was what counted.” 

_Even if it was as I was taking the lasagna out of the oven.  
_

Benedict crinkled his nose and smiled at her. 

_There he goes with that damn adorable face. Someday I picture myself with a son who does the same when he’s done something wrong. ‘Sorry, Mom, I didn’t mean to break the window’ - cut to nose crinkle and lopsided smile._

“You’re such an extraordinary, understanding girlfriend. I’m so blessed.” 

_Sometimes yes, sometimes not so much._

“Did you have a good time with the guys?” 

Benedict nodded. “I had a cracking time! A delicious, epic meal, strong drinks and good company.” 

“You don’t seem hung over,” ventured Donna. 

_Ha ha ha! She should have seen me when I woke up. Behold the power of keeping hydrated last night, followed by three aspirin and more water this morning._

“That’s because we kept the drinking to a minimum.” 

_Hmm…we did do our share of drinking; but we’ve done far worse. Adam and Dennis must be half dead this morning.  
_

“I had a cocktail and a bit of the wine.” 

_Does two glasses of wine qualify as a bit? Nope. What she doesn’t know won’t hurt.  
_

“Where did they take you?” 

“We decided to try The Gaucho for dinner, followed by good conversation in their bar afterwards. They’ve got nice, comfy couches to relax on. Everyone had to be up early today, so we scraped the plans to go clubbing.” 

_It was easier to just stay there and have after dinner drinks. We were also getting tipsy so driving wasn’t an option._

“I’m sorry your party was so dull,” laughed Donna. 

“Oh, it wasn’t dull at all! We hadn’t seen each other for an age, so there was a lot to catch up on with our lives. I managed to have a bit of a giggle even though I missed you terribly.” 

_I vaguely recall laughing so much that I literally fell off the couch onto my arse…more than once._

“You have a knack for always knowing the right thing to say.” 

Benedict laughed. “I wish Karon could hear you say that! She’s always telling me just the opposite!” _  
_

_Why does that not surprise me?_

“What did you have for dinner?” 

“I had the black scallop ceviche for my starter. The black comes from the squid ink. It also had celery, red onions, a bit of chili for heat and some lime for acid and balance. It was very light and refreshing.” 

_He_ _sounded just like me when I’m writing a review!  
_

Benedict pulled out his mobile from his pocket and handed it to her. “Here! I even took pictures for you.” 

Donna scrolled through his photos until she came to the ones from the night before. 

_I see an awful lot of cocktail and wine glasses littering the table. His friends look a bit glassy-eyed. He looks pretty sloshed in these pictures for someone who just had one drink and a ‘bit’ of wine._

“Then for my main I had a spiral cut steak that was marinated in extra virgin olive oil, garlic and parsley. They grill it, so it’s properly charred on the outside, yet juicy and pink on the inside. We shared all the sides, but I particularly liked the chips cooked in beef fat and the creamed spinach.” 

“Ooooo…that sounds like my kind of place. I want to go there!”

“I’ll take you whenever you fancy.” 

“Did you have dessert?” 

“Of course! I had the most brilliant hazelnut and rosemary tart. It had poached pears, fresh blueberry compote and a scoop of sabayon ice cream, which I could have gone for more of – it was that good. I think you would have enjoyed the cocktail I had. It was vodka and fresh grape juice, topped with sparkling Argentine wine.” 

_It was actually two cocktails, followed by two glasses of wine with dinner.  
_

“Then when I was using the loo, the wankers told our server it was my birthday, and so we got a free cake, too. There’s a picture of it.” Benedict looked over her shoulder. “Yes, that’s it.” 

“Oh, isn’t that one of your favorite tricks to get free cake at restaurants?” asked Donna with a raised eyebrow. 

Benedict blushed. “Erm…yeah. It is. My friends and I love doing it to each other when we go out. However, this time we really _were_ celebrating my birthday even though it had passed.” 

_Mom would love and approve of that. We’ve gotten plenty of freebies by wearing birthday buttons at Disney - even when our birthdays were over by six months or more. She’s lucky they never ask for proof like some restaurants do.  
_

“What kind of cake was it?” _  
_

“It was a chocolate cake with fresh strawberry buttercream. I know it was fresh because I could see the seeds in it.” 

“My, aren’t you observant!” 

“I hang out with a food critic, and she trained me to look for these things.” 

“You and your pictures are making me hungry, Benedict. I think you missed your calling. You should have been a food critic,” teased Donna, handing the phone back to him. 

Benedict held out his hand, but Donna suddenly held onto his mobile. She was still looking at the photos. 

_Oh…these must have been taken after dinner in the bar. This is where the giggles must have started in earnest. Holy shit do they all look hammered! Do I see cigars? Yes, I think I do. Ah ha! Yes, indeed and here’s one of Benedict with a cigar in his hand that one of his pals must have taken with his phone._

_Shit! She’s found the photos I took in the cigar bar. I’m fucked every which way now! FUCK. She’s looking at the one Mark took of me and Adam with the cigars. Crap! Now, she’s looking at the one of me and Dennis doing shots._

“I love the selfie of you lying on the floor, Honey. It truly captures the essence of the evening,” smirked Donna, handing the phone back to Benedict. 

_You were drunk as a skunk and fell off the couch while smoking cigars and doing shots. Jeez Louise.  
_

_Oh. That was the sarcastic Honey. I hate when she annunciates it like that._

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck. “Erm…I didn’t fall because I had too much to drink. I was sitting too close to the edge of the couch is all.” 

“Of course you were, Honey. Aren’t you going to review the cigar for me, too?” 

_Shit! That’s two ‘honeys’ in less than a minute. She’s not happy._

“I was holding the cigar for Mark while he took the picture.” 

“I find it odd that you would hold it in your mouth instead of your hand, but what do I know?” laughed Donna. 

_Sure he was. I didn’t just fall off the turnip truck yesterday, Benedict. That was your cigar, and you were smoking it._

“My, look at all the time we’re wasting chatting away about food! It’s getting late,” remarked Benedict, as he made quite the show of checking his watch. 

_Getting late, Ben???? It is late,_ thought Donna as she picked up the cake plate she had sitting on one of the tables in the lobby sitting area. 

“So, are you ready to meet my family then?” asked Benedict as he took the large Tupperware covered cake plate from Donna and led the way outside. 

“As ready as I’ll ever be!” 

“Christ this is heavy. Is it a pound cake?” 

“I never realized how funny you are in the morning. It’s a turtle cheesecake. You did say that it’s your mother’s favorite,” Donna replied as she followed him outside to his car. “Can you please open the trunk for a minute?” 

Benedict noted that she was also carrying a gift bag along with a large duffle bag, which she placed in the boot of his car. He set the cake on the floor of the back seat and held the passenger door open for Donna to get in. 

“Yes, turtle cheesecake is Mum’s favorite. She always buys a couple of slices for herself when she goes to Borough Market. There’s a stand she goes to that makes the most divine cheesecakes.” 

“Let’s hope mine is better,” said Donna, buckling her seat belt. “I’ve got to make a good impression.” 

“Oh, don’t be silly! There was no need to make such a fuss. You don’t have to impress my mother.” 

_Oh, yes, I do, Benedict! A lot you don’t know about prospective mothers and daughters-in law! I need to put my best foot forward, especially after what happened at the Orangery and last Saturday night. I also have to prove to Tim that I’m not a klutz._

“What was in the bags?” asked Benedict, as he pulled away from the kerb and headed in the direction of Kensington. “Are you leaving home?” 

“The duffle bag has some of my clothes. I thought you could bring them home with you so I’ll have some things already at your place for when I stay over. The little shopping bag contains a bottle of rose wine for your father and an assortment of exotic sea salts for your mother.” 

“Brilliant choices! I’m sure Dad will enjoy the wine, and Mum loves nothing more than a relaxing hot bath.” 

“Not bath salts. They’re meant to be finishing salts for after food is cooked.   You sprinkle a bit over the top just before serving to enhance and add flavor.” 

“Mum will be over the moon. She enjoys cooking. Have I mentioned what a brilliant cook she is?” 

“Many times. I look forward to tasting her food. Do you know what we’re having or have you been sworn to secrecy?” 

“I wish I knew what she’s finally settled on. She keeps changing up the menu. I’m hoping she makes her roast chicken. If I had to pick a signature dish for Mum, that would be it. She roasts it until the skin is golden brown and crispy and serves it with the most divine sherry cream sauce with white wine and a hint of fresh tarragon from her herb garden. My mouth is watering just thinking about it.”

  _Shit! It must be eighty degrees today. I hope to God Wanda isn’t roasting a chicken today, or I’ll be roasting along with it._

“Do your parents have air conditioning in their house?”

  _She’s still not comprehending that we really don’t need to use air con here in the summer, bless her. Why would they need it today? It’s beautiful out!_

“Erm…just in their bedroom, I’m afraid. They’ve got one of those portable units, like I have. Don’t worry, Love. I’m sure all the windows will be open. We get great cross ventilation in the flat. I promise you’ll be comfortable.” 

_Says the man sitting beside me wearing a long-sleeved shirt over a t-shirt and jeans. I’m glad I decided to wear this sundress and shrug. I can always remove the shrug if it gets really hot._

“I see you’re not wearing tights today,” Commented Benedict, glancing down at her legs. “I like your butterfly toe nail… art.” 

“It’s too hot for pantyhose. Just panties today.” 

“Pity,” murmured Benedict. “You’d be cooler without them.” 

“Are you not wearing underwear today?” 

Benedict smirked. “That’s for me to know and you to find out.” 

“I may not care if you are or not.” 

_I must remember to check him out when we get out of the car._

“I bet you _do_. You’re as curious as I am, and I know you want to know.” 

Benedict stopped at a light and looked Donna over. “You look very lovely today by the way.” 

_My God. It gives me tingles when he looks me up and down like that…it’s like he’s looking right through my clothes. It makes me feel self-conscious and sexy at the same time._

“Thank you.” 

_Part of me wishes we could just go to my flat and have a snogging session, followed by mutual groping. Maybe I’ll ask her to sleep over tonight once we’re done sitting Jonathan. We’ll practically be in the neighborhood. Adam only lives ten minutes away._

“So, how are you doing today?” 

“Okay,” replied Benedict as he continued driving. He glanced over at her. “Why do you ask all of a sudden?” 

Donna hesitated. “Well, I thought being you wound up having to smoke Friday night…” 

_How in the fuck did she know??????_

“No. I haven’t had _any_ fags, if that’s what you want to know.” 

_Yet. I’ve been dying for one since I got up. And please don’t ask me about yesterday. That was a complete disaster last night – who knew the Gaucho had a cigar bar? The chaps were treating me– how could I refuse such a fine Cuban cigar? However, I could have refused all the fags I had afterwards. I had actually managed not to have one all day until I went out for dinner._

_He thinks I didn’t know he was smoking real cigarettes Friday night. I was sitting in the first row and all I could smell was tobacco smoke. Besides, Andrew’s smoked the herbal ones and said I’d definitely be able to tell the difference from where I was sitting. He also confirmed what Benedict said about them tasting awful. I don’t want to be a nag, I want to help him quit.  
_

Benedict stopped at another light and sat impatiently tapping the steering wheel while waiting for it to change. 

_She knows I’m lying, too. She had to have tasted it on my breath in spite of brushing my teeth and all the mouthwash and breath mints I had in the dressing room.  
_

_Look at him tapping the steering wheel. He’s definitely jittery this morning. Does he really think I didn’t notice the taste of tobacco when he kissed me right after the show?  
_

_I never should have given in. Her eyes were so red and swollen afterwards, and they kept tearing non-stop. I noticed her breathing was a bit labored, too. That was my fault. I should have told her to stay home and watch it live on the telly. I let my ego get in the way of her health. I had to be a show off.  
_

_He did a good job when he showered in his dressing room, but toothpaste and mouthwash only do so much. He’s also chomping on that gum like his life is depending on it. He wants a cigarette in the worst way.  
_

The light changed, and Benedict continued driving. Donna was looking in the side view mirror. He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed softly. 

_Tell her, Benedict. Don’t start lying now. I just hope she doesn’t break up with me now. She’s said she could never be with a smoker, which is why Jimmy was out of the running so quickly._

“Donna, I need to tell you something; and I’m hoping it’s not going to affect our relationship for the worst…” He allowed his words to trail off as his stomach began to knot. 

Donna didn’t say anything, but had turned her gaze on him. He could feel her staring at him in anticipation. 

_What in the world is he going to confess?_

“Christ, I don’t know what to say…I’m …erm…it’s something I don’t want to tell you but I feel I must. Our relationship has been based on trust and being truthful with each other…” 

_Holy Cow! I wish he hadn’t said that. I’m keeping an explosive secret from him.  
_

“You can tell me anything, Benedict. I promise not to judge you.” 

“It’s not going to make you very happy.” 

“You’ve started smoking again, haven’t you.” It was a statement rather than a question. 

“I was smoking real cigarettes during the show Friday night. And before you say anything, I feel just awful that your eyes looked so bad and your breathing was affected. Wait. What did you just say?” 

“That you fell off the wagon. I knew the cigarettes were real.” 

Benedict sighed deeply and shook his head. “Why did you have to sit up front?” 

“Because I wanted the best view of you. Look, Benedict, that was my choice. I knew I’d have a reaction, but I was prepared for the consequences.” 

“That was stupid, Donna. Just as stupid as my caving in and smoking them.” 

“Maybe so. However, as far as I’m concerned, it was worth it to see you act on stage! You were wonderful!” 

“I appreciate the compliment, but I’m really angry with myself for breaking down.” 

“I’m going to assume the herbal ones made you sick at the dress rehearsal.” 

Benedict nodded. “It was awful! I’ve smoked them before, but these were the worst I’ve ever had. They smelled and tasted like a combination of dried feces mixed with cloves and bergamot. Believe me, the scent and the taste did nothing to remind me of the holidays! Even Matthew commented on how foul-smelling they were.” 

“That’s why you’re chewing the gum. To help combat the craving?” 

“Yep. I won’t lie to you. I’m craving one badly right now, but it’ll pass.” 

“I can’t imagine what it must be like for you having never tried it.” _  
_

“Kudos to you for never starting – and I mean that sincerely; because it’s so fucking hard to stop. I was able to get through yesterday pretty well. Dinner was my undoing because they had a cigar bar and well, I thought one cigar would be okay…but it wasn’t. I wound up bumming fags off Jimmy all night. I can’t tell you just how much I despise myself right now. I swore I’d never touch them again because your health was more important, but…” 

“You’re human, Benedict. A human with a tobacco addiction. I understand that, but it would be impossible for me to live with a smoker.” 

“I’m really done with them this time. I promise. I got off them once, and I’ll do it again.” 

“Do you use the gum or patches?” 

“I prefer cold turkey; but if things get really tough, I resort to the gum. I warn you that there will be times when I’m going to take a drag here and there while I’m weaning myself off them. I told you – I love smoking…” 

_I do believe he’s being sincere, and I’m going to help him get off them again._

“…but I love you more. 

“I’ll help and support you in any way that I can, Benedict.” 

“Thank you,” said Benedict, visibly relieved. “That means a lot to me.” 

“We’ll get through this together.” 

Benedict drove past Hyde Park and turned onto Kensington High Street. They passed the Royal Garden Hotel and he made a quick turn just past it onto a narrow side street. Before Donna knew it, he was pulling into a narrow two-car driveway beside a four-story, white brick mews house that was situated on a corner. There were red geraniums in the window boxes and a diamond-patterned wooden trellis with ivy growing up the side of the house that flanked the driveway. Donna could see what looked like a roof top garden. Benedict turned off the ignition and smiled at her. 

“And here we are: 4-14 Queens Walk. My boyhood home,” smiled Benedict proudly. 

“Whose car are we blocking in?” 

Benedict laughed. “Oh, that’s Mum’s Mini-Cooper. Dad keeps the Audi garaged.” 

The couple got out of the car and gathered up the cake and shopping bag. Donna noticed the small garage at the end of the driveway. There was no rear yard that she could see, nor was there a front year. The entrance was right off the street. Donna smiled as she surveyed the large rocks that bordered the driveway against the side of the house. 

“So which of these is the famous boulder you drove your Mini-Cooper over?” 

Benedict rolled his eyes as he continued walking. “The second one on the left,” he said dismissively over his shoulder. 

Donna followed him around the corner to the wooden front door. Donna noticed four mailboxes with intercoms. Benedict removed his keys from his pocket and began to unlock the front door. 

“Aren’t you going to buzz your parents to let them know we’re here?”

“Nope. They’re always telling me that this is still my home and to just come on up whenever I visit,” replied Benedict, holding the door open so she could enter the building. 

_Unless it’s one of those times when they decided I should have called first. I just love it when they give off those mixed signals._

The main foyer was small with a black and white tiled floor. The door leading to the first flat was down a small hallway that ran alongside a staircase. Benedict led Donna to the lift and used another key to gain access. 

“Only the residents have keys to the lift,” he explained as they rode up to the fourth floor. “Last stop!” he said as the door slid open to reveal another foyer with the same black and white tiles. 

Donna followed Benedict across the small hallway to the door leading into Wanda and Timothy’s apartment. She suddenly felt very nervous as Benedict used yet another key to unlock the door. 

“Wow, you need three keys just to get in here,” she observed. “It’s like Fort Knox.” 

“Yeah, and there’s one for the garage, too. When they first bought the flat, this wasn’t the nicest of neighborhoods. It was pretty sketchy, so the owners went to town on security. To my knowledge the building’s never been burgled.” 

Donna rested a hand on Benedict’s arm as he was about to open the door. _  
_

“So are you?” She asked with a mischievous glint in her hazel eyes. 

“Am I what?” 

“Wearing underwear?” 

“C’est un secret, ma Cherie,” replied Benedict Cumberbatch with a wink as he pushed open the door. 

 

********************************************************

  

Timothy Carlton sat on the chaise lounge in his bedroom pouring over the scrapbooks Wanda had put together over the years of her life before and after they had met. 

_It would have been nice if my wife had thought to label the covers. So far I’ve found Tracy’s life history, Jenn and Emily’s books and ten bloody albums devoted to Benedict alone. Where is the one with his reviews? I do recall it was smaller than the others.  
_

Timothy gathered up all the scrapbooks and placed them back on the shelf in the back of the walk-in wardrobe where he had originally found them. He stood, scratching his head while surveying the other shelves. 

_Hmmm…here’s the storage box with our winter boots, and there’s the box with the cold weather hats and gloves. There are the winter jumpers…I don’t see any other scrapbooks or albums. I know the one Ben wants exists.  
_

Suddenly, Timothy spied another scrapbook out of the corner of his eye near Wanda’s handbags. He picked it up and thumbed through it with mounting excitement and dread. 

_Ah! Finally! Benedict’s not-so-good reviews…let’s see…oh, wait…here it is_. 

Timothy regarded a newspaper article from the London Times dated June 2, 2002 that Wanda had neatly cut out and pasted onto the page:

 

 

**Theatre Reviews**

 

**As You Like It**

**Regents Park Open Air Theatre, London**

**June 1 thru June 30**

**Review by Neil Saint James**

_I knew it. It had been nagging at the back of my mind like an itch for weeks now – ever since Donna said her father was a drama critic at the Orangery. The motherfucker is Donna’s father. Ben must have somehow made the connection, which is why he wants to see the book. He wants confirmation. I find it funny that Wanda hasn’t realized it yet, and all hell will break out when she does._

Timothy took the scrapbook into Benedict’s former bedroom and approached the desk, which was situated up against the window, in order to take advantage of the natural light. 

_I always told Wanda this was a poor spot to place a desk. Who knows how much time Benedict must have spent gazing and dreaming out of this window rather than doing school work._

He opened the desk drawer and placed the book inside as Benedict had requested. 

_Should I give it another read for old time’s sake? It’s been years since I’ve actually read it. Maybe it’s not such a good idea being Donna’s coming over for lunch. I don’t wish to be in a stropy mood because of her prick of a father._ **  
**

Timothy pulled out the chair and sat at the desk. He removed the scrapbook and turned to the page that contained the review. He sat for several minutes trying to decide if he really wanted to continue. Unfortunately, Timothy’s curiosity got the better of him. 

It was a review of the opening night performance of _As You Like It_ back from the summer of 2002. Timothy frowned as he began to read it. Even though several years had passed since it was first written, the words were still painful for him to read: 

 

 

**Theatre Reviews**

 

**As You Like It**

**Regents Park Open Air Theatre, London**

**June 1 thru June 30**

**Review by Neil Saint James**

 

 

**This year’s Regents Park Open Air Theatre kicked off the much anticipated summer season with William Shakespeare’s _As You Like It_. Unfortunately, I did not – like it.  
**

**Why didn’t I like it you may ask? I wanted to like it as it is one of my favorite works of the Bard. I was truly anticipating a warm summer’s evening of enjoyable entertainment in a beautiful, outdoor setting under the stars with my wife. The Open Air Theatre is in fact the perfect setting for this uproariously funny, all-around feel good production.**

**The play is set in the magical Forest of Arden. This production uses a minimalist stage, which unfortunately is becoming more and more common. Frankly, it’s just an excuse for the producers to claim they’re ‘Avant- garde’ when in essence they’re just being cheap. By not using scenery they look progressive while saving money at the same time.  Give me old-fashioned stage scenery any day of the week. However, the setting of this magnificent park more than made up for it. The surrounding trees and thick foliage made for the perfect backdrop. Clever use is made of the stage pillars as they doubled as trees on which Orlando's besotted poetry is displayed….and this is where things went awry.**

**The cast for the most part, were charming, enthusiastic and displayed surprisingly good comedic timing. I found them an impressive ensemble until I noticed what I thought was a pillar, was in fact one of the actors. This actor, by the cumbersome name of Benedict Cumberbatch (yes, a pun is intended – how could one not with a name like that? It begs to have fun poked at it) suddenly moved from his position to utter his first lines as Orlando. Mr. Cumberbatch was so wooden that I had mistaken him for part of the scenery. Pinocchio lives!**

_Saint James must have really gotten off on writing this review, the right bastard! It was opening night for fucks sake and one of Benedict’s first stage roles. How eager he had been to impress Wanda and I that night. And how proud we both were sat in the front row of that theatre, not less than four seats away from the son of a bitch and his poison pen._

Timothy skimmed over the praise for the rest of the cast until he got to the next mention of Benedict:

**I suppose an explanation is now warranted as I have just written a fairly positive review of this production, yet I indicated that it was not my cup of tea. I give you two words: Benedict Cumberbatch. Now, you may ask why I’m being so hard on him? Because he managed to make a right meal of a bad situation, which could have been avoided, and therefore; ruined my theatre experience.**

**How did this happen you ask? Well, as Mr. Cumberbatch was about to utter his next lines after the wrestling match with Rosalind, a curious thing happened. Nothing came out of his oddly shaped mouth, which is reminiscent of an overly exaggerated cupid’s bow. It was as if he were whispering his lines to us – almost as if he were embarrassed to share them with us.** **I barely could make out the line: ‘I cannot speak to her’ and he couldn’t – literally. The young man was clearly rattled and did not fare well as a combination of heckling and sympathetic noises rose from the audience.**

**This turned out to be a blessing in disguise for the audience as it enabled his more than capable understudy, Mr. Tam Mutu, to seamlessly take over the role as an embarrassed Mr. Cumberbatch fled the stage in tears.** **Later on I heard that he left the theatre immediately afterwards on his motorbike, rather than be gracious enough to stay and applaud his understudy. The biographical blurb in the program states that Mr. Cumberbatch happens to be a graduate of Harrow as well as LAMDA. If I were his parents, I would demand a refund from both as his behaviour was both unsettling and not befitting an old Harrovian nor that of a professional actor.**

**I believe there are many waiter jobs in London that Mr. Cumberbatch would be better suited for. ..unless he fancies trying his hand at becoming a mime.**

**Note: Neil Saint James is on loan from the New York Times, where he currently holds the position of Head Drama Critic. Mr. Saint James will be filling in this summer for our resident Drama Critic, Rodney Renfield, who is recuperating from surgery.**

Timothy slammed the book shut in anger and shook his head in disgust. He got up and went into the hallway, still carrying the book.

_Heaven forbid the day Neil Saint James becomes my son’s father-in-law._

“Wanda! We need to talk before Benedict gets here!” bellowed Timothy Carlton.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Neil Saint James’ review is totally fictional and in no way represents my opinions or views. I adore Benedict’s acting and have never seen him give a bad performance. Neil’s views are strictly his own. 
> 
> 2\. Tam Mutu is who I believe to have been Benedict’s understudy when he lost his voice during As You Like It. I have only seen him referred to as ‘Tam’ but upon doing some research believe it to be him. If not, we will pretend it is for the purposes of this story. 
> 
> 3\. I originally hadn’t intended to write Neil’s actual review, but since it has been referred to so many times throughout this story I decided to write it in order for the reader to understand the bad feelings that arose from it. I will also write Wanda’s response letter in a later chapter for the same reason.
> 
> 4\. I have no idea what it is to be a smoker or what it’s like trying to quit. I don’t think it’s been easy for Benedict and want to depict it as a constant struggle for him in this story.
> 
> 5\. I have no idea what herbal cigarettes are like – only from what I’ve read.
> 
> 6\. I’ve mixed fact and fiction regarding the anecdote surrounding the night Benedict lost his voice during As You Like It.
> 
> 7\. Bubbes Bagels does not exist, however, Murray's Bagels in NYC's Greenwich Village does.
> 
> 8\. Wanda and TImothy's address is totally fictitious. I have no idea where they live in Kensington.


	79. Chapter 79

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Part Two of Sunday dinner with the Cumberbatches as Donna makes her debut as Benedict’s official girlfriend. Wanda receives unwelcome news. Benedict suspects that something isn’t quite Kosher.
> 
> Note: I’ll be using ********* to depict things happening at the same time.

 

Wanda Ventham stood admiring the dining room table that she had just finished laying for Sunday lunch. The long rectangular mahogany table was covered in a pale pink linen table cloth, which was in turn was covered by an antique Battenberg lace table cloth that had belonged to Timothy’s mother, Pauline. The delicate matching pale pink serviettes were embroidered with yellow, white and blue flowers. A globe-shaped crystal bowl, filled with roses in varying shades of pink adorned the center of the table, and was flanked by tall white candles in ornate silver candle sticks that belonged to Wanda’s great aunt, Lucille. Wanda had decided to use her best Royal Doulton china, silverware and the Waterford crystal goblets that once belonged to her mother, Frances, for the occasion. Everything sparkled under the light emitting from the small crystal chandelier that hung over the table.

_The table looks cracking! Exactly what I was hoping for! I’m sure Donna will be impressed. I’m so glad I took good care of all these antiques, so one day I can pass them onto Tracy, the girls and …Donna? Yes. Donna and whatever daughters she may give Benedict. I have to start thinking of Donna as a potential member of the family now. She reminds me of the type who would cherish family heirlooms. I remember that dumb dolly bird Ben brought home who had the bollocks to call my mother’s things ‘old junk’._

All the windows were open and there was a gentle breeze keeping the flat comfortable in spite of the heat radiating from the kitchen. The oven had been on since early that morning, as Wanda had finally settled on a sirloin beef roast along with Yorkshire pudding and roasted root vegetables for her main.

The intercom buzzed, announcing that company had arrived downstairs. Wanda stared at the clock in a panic.

_Could it be Benedict? No! Too early for him, what was I thinking? It has to be Tracy, who for once is late.  
_

Wanda pressed and held the intercom button as she spoke into the speaker.

“Yes?” She inquired pleasantly.

_“We’re here – finally! Please buzz us in, Mum,”_ Emanated Tracy’s aggravated voice from the speaker.

Wanda hit the button to unlock the front door and went back to admiring her table scape.

_I want my table to be as perfect as my lunch is going to be. Maybe the flowers need a bit more greenery? Everything looks very pink. Some greens would break it up a bit._

“Wanda! We need to talk before Benedict gets here!” Came Timothy’s voice from the hallway leading to the bedrooms.

“Be right there, Tim!”

_Hells bells! I wonder what he could possibly want. He’s been searching for those damn scrapbooks for the longest time. I bet he’s found them and has been wasting time reading them. He probably wants to show me an old review, bless him, forever the proud father. The day Benedict calls to tell us he’s received an Oscar nomination will just put that man over the moon.  
_

The door to the flat opened as the Peacock family spilled in. A harried-looking Tracy was accompanied by her daughters, Emily and Jennifer in addition to Emily’s best friend, Heather.

“Sorry we’re so late!” said Tracy apologetically. “There were delays on the Overground, so Derek and everyone else in Gloucestershire decided to drive into London! Then we had to stop at Emmy’s residence hall and pick up the girls.”

“I don’t think Gran heard you, Mum,” laughed Jennifer pointing to the dining room area that was just off the lounge.

Wanda was standing in front of the dining room table, seemingly lost in thought. She frowned at the candles and pulled at her chin.

_Shit - is that a hair I feel?  I need to go for a chin wax tomorrow._

"Gran has no idea we're here!" laughed Jennifer.

Wanda moved the candles a bit farther apart and promptly returned them to their original position.

_I think the candles might be too tall. They may block someone’s view…I think that’s where I was going to sit Donna. She’s too short. I’ll move Benedict into that seat and have Derek sit across from him. That will be much more conducive to conversation._

“Well, well, now that’s a table Hyacinth Bucket would be proud of!” laughed Tracy from behind her. “All you need are place cards!”

_Hmmmm…place cards! Why didn’t I think of that that? I think it’s too late to make some up._

Wanda turned to greet her daughter with a double-cheeked kiss.

“Very funny. Everyone’s a comedian in this family lately.”

“I’m only teasing you about the place cards. The table looks smashing, Mum!”

“Hi Gran!” said Emily as she came to view the table with her best friend, Heather, right behind her. Emily also gave Wanda a double-cheeked kiss.

“Oh, you’re using Great Gran Pauline’s table cloth and serviettes! They are just so pretty!”

“What a lovely table, Gran!” exclaimed Jennifer, kissing her grandmother in turn. “I recognize all Great Gran’s things. I hope this girl is worth all the trouble you’re going to.”

_Yes, she is and that is exactly why I’m going through such pains. She’s going to marry your uncle one day and give him all the children he desires.  
_

“Let us hope so,” agreed Wanda. “Your uncle is quite over the moon about her.”

“Thank you for inviting me, Mrs. Cumberbatch,” piped up Heather.

Wanda smiled at the blonde-haired girl. “We’re happy to have you, Heather.”

“You’re a life-saver!” said Heather. “Without you, Emmy and I would never be able to get our papers done on time.”

“Tim and I would never allow you girls to get a poor grade whilst we have a computer you are more than welcome to use.”

“It won’t take us long, Gran. Heather and I figure we’d work on it a little before lunch and then do the bulk of the work afterwards.”

“When did they say the power would be restored to your residence hall?” asked Wanda, moving the candlesticks further apart.

Emily shrugged. “They didn’t. I keep checking my text messages for an alert. We really appreciate this, Gran.”

“Do you think anything needs tweaking?” inquired Wanda, pushing her sleeves up over her elbows. “Everything is awfully pink, don’t you think?”

Tracy slowly circled the table as she gave it a final inspection. “No. The lace overlay breaks up all the pink and the silver makes for a nice contrast.”

“I think it makes a beautiful backdrop for your pink flowered china,” commented Jennifer.

“Maybe some ferns in the floral arrangement then?” asked Wanda hopefully.

“No. Then it will be too busy,” replied Tracy. “I would just leave it the way it is.”

“I agree with Mrs. Peacock,” piped up Heather. “It’s very elegant as is. My mum never lays a formal table for Sunday lunch.”

Emily rolled her eyes. “She’s only doing it because my Uncle Ben is bringing his girlfriend around for the first time. Otherwise, it would just be…”

“Thank you, Emmy,” said Tracy abruptly cutting her off. “Don’t you girls have papers to work on?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” said Emily. “I’m just going to get us a little snack to tide us over before lunch. Be right back, Heather.”

Heather crossed the room to the computer desk and booted up the PC while Emily disappeared into the kitchen. Wanda and Tracy watched Heather open her messenger bag and go about laying the desk with papers, pens and notebooks. Wanda caught Jennifer moving the candlesticks closer together out of the corner of her eye.

_Leave the damn candlesticks alone, Jennifer! Next she’ll be cocking up the place settings!_

“Jenn, would you be a love and go up to the roof garden to get some chervil and chives?” asked Wanda.

“Sure. How much do you need?”

“I think a handful of each will do nicely. Take a bowl and a pair of kitchen shears with you.”

“I really appreciate that you let Emmy bring Heather today,” whispered Tracy. “I know this was supposed to be a family-only event.”

Wanda held up her hand. “It’s not their fault there was a power outage in their hall. They need to complete their papers, and we have a computer that’s not in use. Besides Heather’s acquainted with Benedict, so I doubt he’ll mind all that much.”

_I hope. He hasn’t seen her since that night when Emmy tried to set them up._

Tracy moved the candlesticks back to their original position and one of the goblets a fraction of an inch. Then she stood back with crossed arms to take one last look at the table.

“Perfect. Ben’s girl is sure to be impressed. I can’t wait to meet her. I have to say, Mum, you don’t look rattled at all about meeting …what is her name again?”

“Donna. Donna Saint James.”

_That’s odd. I would think Mum would have been hanging off the ceiling by now at the prospect of meeting Benedict’s girlfriend – especially since he’s in a serious relationship. She’s a lot calmer than I expected her to be.  
_

“Donna. Nice name. You _must_ be a nervous wreck by now. I bet you could use one of Tim’s extra strong drinks yes?”

_I’ve already met her, but you don’t need to know that. I’m only nervous about convincing Benedict that this will be my first time meeting Donna. I pray she’s able to hold up her end of things given all that acting experience she doesn’t have._

“Where did you say Derek is?”

“I didn’t.”

_Even odder. Normally, she would have inquired after Derek right away._

“Don’t tell me he’s off on a business trip again.”

_Something’s not right. Did I not mention that he drove us into London? She’s preoccupied with something._

“No, Mum. He’s trying to find parking. There were delays on the Overground, so he decided driving would be faster. I believe I said that when we got here.”

_Shit! She’s right. She did say that. I was too busy worrying about Donna saying the wrong thing. I’ll just make sure to take her aside once she gets here and emphasize the importance of not slipping up._

“Why didn’t he just use our drive then?”

“Um…because there is only room for two cars.”

“And?”

“Your car is already in it, and you specifically instructed me to leave the other space free for his nibs.”

“Call Derek and tell him to just use the car park at the Royal Garden. He doesn’t have to be a hotel guest to use it.”

_Hmmm…referring to Benedict as ‘his nibs’ usually gets a rise out of her. She really is calm today,_ thought Tracy _._

“I did, but he was determined to try and find street parking.”

“I wish him well then. We’ll just save his lunch for when he finally turns up,” laughed Wanda. “I’d better baste the roast before it dries out.”

 

*******************************************

 

“Wanda?” Called Timothy impatiently from Benedict’s old room.

_Where in the hell is she?   I really need to tell her about Neil Saint James before Donna and Benedict arrive. Unless I tell her after they leave. I don’t want to spoil things, but knowing Wanda she’ll be cross that I held it from her. This is a tough call to make. I think I’ll go with the truth – I’m harboring enough secrets._

“Hi Grandpa!” said Jennifer, peeking into the room. “Are you hiding from us?” she teased.

“No! Of course not!” laughed Timothy, placing the scrapbook back in the desk drawer. “Did you just get here then?”

“Yes. There were train delays, so we drove. Dad’s out looking for free street parking. Gran asked me to go up to the roof garden to pick some herbs for lunch.”

“I think I’ll go up with you then. I’ve got some mint that should be ready for picking. I fancy using it in my Pimm’s cup.”

 

***************************************************

 

 Tracy Peacock sat at the kitchen table reading the Sunday paper while Wanda removed the roast from the oven and proceeded to baste it with the pan drippings.

“I really wish you’d let me help, Mum.”

“I’ve got everything under control for the time being, Love. There’s nothing more to do once I get the puddings into the oven. I’ll only need help with plating and serving.”

“Oh, that smells heavenly! You make the best Sunday roasts.”

“Thank you,” said Wanda as she removed some of the pan drippings to add to her Yorkshire pudding batter. “I’d better get these puddings in now.”

Tracy started laughing and slapped her knee. “Oh my! This is just too funny for words! Did you read today’s Tasty Travels column in the Tribune?”

“Who had time? I’ve been peeling, slicing and chopping all morning. Why?”

“Because it’s a corker this week! The woman who writes it is so funny. She really put down a new French restaurant in Belgravia called Printemps.”

Wanda paused, baster in hand.

_Tasty Travels. That’s Donna’s column._

“Listen to this: Printemps is a new French restaurant in Belgravia whose menu states that they proudly serve their Sunday Roast every day of the week. A French restaurant that serves the traditional Sunday Roast every day. They were begging to be tried, so I did. In essence, they should have kept that nasty little secret to themselves.”

“That _is_ odd,” laughed Wanda as she finished basting the roast and returned it to the oven. “As you were.”

“Wait a minute. Donna Saint James. You mean to tell me Ben’s girl is the one who writes this column yes?”

“One and the same,” replied Wanda proudly. “Your brother has done well this time.”

 Tracy frowned. “What possessed you to want to cook lunch for her? I’d never want to cook for a food critic. She’ll be analyzing every bite.”

“Donna’s not like that!” said Wanda in defense.

Tracy looked up from the paper and looked quizzically at Wanda.

“Really now? How would _you_ know?”

_Shit! She’s just like Benedict at times, and this is one of them.  
_

“Your brother said she’s very down to earth and leaves the job at home when she’s dining out at other people’s homes.”

“Says my brother,” scoffed Tracy, dropping her gaze back to the newspaper. “I think it would be impossible for her not to automatically critique whatever she was eating.”

“Your brother has assured me that she’s not like that.”

“Maybe so, but you would have been better served meeting her at a restaurant. No cooking, no cleaning and more time spent getting to know her.”

“I want her to see where Benedict grew up.”

“I still wouldn’t want to cook for her.”

Wanda pressed her lips together as she poured the Yorkshire pudding batter into the prepared pans.

“I have the utmost confidence in my cooking abilities. I’ve been doing it since I was twelve.”

Tracy shrugged. “Suit yourself then. I hope you’re right.”

“What else did she have to say about that restaurant?”

Tracy continued reading:  “At first, I was confused to find no French dishes on the menu. Then I realized that they were attempting to do British cuisine with a French twist. It was a failed attempt on many levels. Allow me to count some of the ways.”

_Hahaha! It’s going to be one of those reviews,thought Wanda with glee. I love when she rips them apart._

“Ouch!” laughed Tracy as Wanda placed the puddings in the upper oven and set the timer. “The French Onion Soup Gratinee came to the table under what was described as a molten mantle of Stilton. The still-cold broth contained so much salt that I could feel my feet begin to swell after consuming just one spoonful. The Stilton seemed to have been melted with a blow torch a la crème brulee. The top was nicely browned, but still cold and hard underneath. The crouton seemed to be a matzo cracker that had sunk to the bottom of the crock. I inquired if it was intended to be served cold like Vichyssoise due to the warm weather…..”

 Wanda looked hesitantly at the simmering stock pot on the stove.

_Perhaps making French onion soup wasn’t such a good idea._ _I wonder if it’s too late to make a nice salad?_

Tracy looked up at Wanda. “What are we having for a starter?”

“French onion soup gratinee,” replied Wanda. “It’s one of Donna’s favorites.”

“How do you know?”

_Shit! She told me the day we met at the Orangery while we were discussing French food._

“I got that from reading her columns,” sniffed Wanda. “ If it’s on the menu, she orders it.”

_Well done me!_

“I’d make sure the cheese was melted through and the broth had better be just short of scalding then. You did adjust the seasonings yes?”

“Tracy! I’m not going to be intimidated by Donna Saint James just because she’s a food critic!”

_Am I though?_

Tracy continued reading aloud: “The roast itself was sirloin, which is not the best cut to use for a Sunday roast. What do you use, Mum?”

“Sirloin.”

_And there’s nothing wrong with it. Everyone loves my sirloin roasts. Why did my daughter just frown like that?_

Tracy shook her head and returned to the article: “Sirloin is a lean cut of meat and needs to be larded. Unfortunately, Printemps’ Chef did not. Instead he chose to braise the meat by drowning it in the same salty ‘broth’ they attempted to pass off as French onion soup. This resulted in unappetizing pale, grey slices of meat that tasted more like salt-cured beef. In a word: Gross. Such an unfair fate for such a noble cut of meat.”

“And before you ask me, I wrap the roast in streaky bacon and roast it on a rack so it browns evenly and has a nice, bright pink center. I’ve been roasting sirloin for years, and I’ve never had anything but tender, juicy results. Today will be no different,” declared Wanda with complete confidence. “Did she happen to like _anything_?”

Tracy skimmed the article. “No. She goes on to say the vegetables were overcooked and had no life left in them. The mash had lumps.”

“A good mash is supposed to have lumps.”

“Not according to Donna Saint James,” giggled Tracy.

_Mental note to mash the shit out of the fucking potatoes. Hells bells!  
_

Wanda took a seat at the table across from Tracy.

“What did she have to say about the Yorkshire pudding?”

“Hmmmm…ah, here it is. Oh. That’s not good.”

“What??”

“The chef must love his blow torch because he torches everything. The Yorkshire pudding arrived at the table completely charred on top. At first I thought it was blood pudding, but alas, it was Yorkshire pudding. Burnt, dry, overdone Yorkshire pudding.”

“Mine are tender and light as clouds,” commented Wanda proudly. “Did the gravy get a mention?”

“Um…oh yeah. Here it is: The gravy was touted as the ‘best in London’. When I poured some onto my beef, the gravy stayed exactly where it landed rather than covering the surface. It sat stubbornly like the congealed puddle of glop it was. I immediately ordered a container to take home as the consistency was perfect for gluing the loose wallpaper in my boyfriend’s bedroom.”

“Ha! That’s Ben she’s talking about!” laughed Tracy. “Well, we now know for sure she’s been in his bedroom because I remember the loose wallpaper from the last time I was there.”

_Hmmm…I always make my gravy on the thick side…perhaps I’ll thin it a bit._

“I’m going to skip to the pudding reviews now: I was intrigued by the simple dessert described as ‘Burnt Crème’. Allow me to assure you that it did not disappoint. It came to the table exactly as described. Burnt. The Eton Mess was just that - a mess.”

“We’re not having Eton Mess. We’re having milk chocolate crème brulee because Donna fancies chocolate as much as I do. She adores crème brulee, especially the one at the Orangery. You know the one they make in the spring – it’s milk chocolate with orange essence. They serve it as one of the sweets on the tea tray, and Donna couldn’t get enough of it.”

Tracy paused and looked across the table at Wanda.

_Oh, Mum. She couldn’t get enough of it? This tells me you’ve been in her company._

“I suppose Ben also told you that or did you get that from one of her columns?”

“Neither. Actually, I recall her saying her mother makes a dark chocolate one with orange liqueur – maybe Cointreau I think she may have said. Anyway, Donna prefers the taste of milk chocolate to dark.”

Tracy blinked twice and a brief frown flickered across her brow as she digested what Wanda had told her.

_For fucks sake! Why did I have to elaborate like that? Look at the expression on Tracy’s face. She suspects I may have met Donna prior to today. Time to change the subject and change it quickly._

Tracy folded the paper shut and regarded her mother’s face carefully.

_Today isn’t going to be the first time that Mum’s meeting Donna Saint James. Somehow, somewhere their paths have crossed prior to today.  
_

“Mum. I’m going to ask you something, and I want a straight answer,” Began Tracy as Timothy and Jennifer entered the kitchen.

“Fresh, home-grown mint!” announced Timothy, as he proudly displayed a fistful of the bright green aromatic herb. “I’m going to use this in my Pimm’s today. Just take a whiff!”

Wanda covered his hand with hers to encase the mint and inhaled deeply.

“You’re a genius when it comes to gardening, Love! Your agent should book you on one of those home gardening shows they have on the telly.”

“Here are the herbs you asked for, Gran,” said Jennifer, setting the bowl on the kitchen table. “Do you want me to do anything with them?”

_And here’s my chance to make a graceful exit,_ thought Wanda Ventham with relief. _Before my daughter has a chance to ask me what I think she’s going to ask me. I can see it in her eyes. She suspects._

“Yes, Jenn, would you be a love and give them a rinse? Then just lay them out to dry on some paper toweling,” replied Wanda getting to her feet. “Tim, you were looking for me, I believe.”

“Yes, I really do need to speak with you for a moment.”

“Well, then. We can chat while I change into something more appropriate,” said Wanda as she left the kitchen with Timothy in tow.

Tracy shook her head as she watched Wanda and Timothy hastily retreat to the lounge.

_Well done, Mother. You managed to escape this time, but I’ll have plenty of time to ask you about how you came to know so much about Donna Saint James later_.

 

***********************************************

 

Timothy Carlton shut the door to the master bedroom behind him and watched as his wife gathered up the outfit she planned to wear and began to change. Timothy perched on the edge of their bed and crossed his arms as he gazed at her intently.

“Are you going to tell me what’s so important or was this a ruse to ogle me, you cheeky man?”

“Both,” smiled Timothy, stroking his chin. “But before I have my say, I have the succinct impression that I saved your beautiful bum just now in the kitchen,” he said. “Am I correct?”

Wanda sighed as she pulled on her skirt and zipped it up.

“Yes, and you have no idea just how much I appreciate it.”

“You can show your appreciation once they’ve all left.”

“It wasn’t funny.”

“I have a feeling it wasn’t. What happened?”

“I had a slip of the tongue, which started the wheels turning in Tracy’s head.”

“How much did your tongue slip?”

“Enough that she’s gotten the idea that I’ve met Donna prior to today.”

“Shit!” hissed Timothy. “Just what we didn’t need!”

Wanda finished buttoning her blouse and tucked the tails into her skirt.

“You don’t have to tell me that, Tim! Hopefully, she’ll forget about it once Benedict gets here.”

“Or it will only serve to fan the flames of curiosity. She does know about the plan, Commander, remember? It shan’t take long for her to put two and two together.”

Wanda sat on the end of the chaise lounge and changed out of her slippers and into a pair of low-heeled shoes.

“Let’s just hope the matchmaking gods look upon us favourably today, and she doesn’t pick up on it.”

“To be frank, I’m more concerned with Benedict’s radar picking up on something. Tracy’s not really a threat to the plan; however, should Ben become suspicious…”

“He won’t as long as we are extra diligent.”

“Says the woman who just confessed to a minor slip of the tongue.”

“I didn’t say it was a minor one now did I?”

“Shit.”

“You might say that. Look, Tim, there’s nothing that can be done now except to keep distracting Tracy. So what is it you wanted to tell me then?”

“Be back in a tic. Stay put,” instructed Timothy.

_What on earth is he up to?_ Wondered Wanda as she checked her makeup in the mirror over the dresser. _I really hope it’s nothing bad…I don’t think I could take any bad news today._    _I want everything to be perfect!_

She picked up her brush and began to fix her hair when Timothy returned with the black scrapbook.

“That’s the book with Benedict’s not-so-stellar reviews,” Wanda observed, looking at his reflection in the mirror. “Don’t tell me that’s what he wants to show Donna!”

“No. He doesn’t want to show these to Donna. In fact he wants to look at them. My guess is he wants it for confirmation purposes.”

Wanda spritzed her hair lightly with hair spray. “Confirmation of what?”

 Timothy opened the book to the page he had bookmarked and set it down on the dresser in front of her.

 “This. I trust your remember this review.”

Wanda looked down at the page and instantly felt her blood begin to boil as she read the title of the review.

“I don’t need to read it. I can recite the whole fucking thing by heart!” She spat angrily. “What in the hell does Benedict need to confirm? I can assure him that those hurtful, slanderous words haven’t changed since that bastard first wrote them seven years ago!”

 “Wanda, you’re missing something paramount,” said Timothy gently. “The byline. Read the byline, and you’ll understand both my and your son’s concern.”

Wanda huffed and picked up the book. “I don’t need to look,” she scoffed. “It was that fucking American critic who was filling in for that dick Rodney Renfield that summer. I will never forget that name…Neil Saint James!”

Timothy fell silent as he let it sink in.

_Neil Saint James. I haven’t forgotten. What on earth is so important about Neil Saint James today besides the fact that he gave my son three unfavourable reviews and wrote awful things about him in a blog?_

Suddenly, Wanda was transported back to that afternoon at the Orangery when she had interviewed Donna:

 

**"What does your father do?"**  
  
"He works for the New York Times."  
  
"He's a reporter, then?"  
  
"He's one of their film critics."

_And I thought how wonderful it would be for Ben to have a father-in-law who was a critic and would give him nothing but positive reviews. Then I saw that Tim had stopped eating and had this awful look on his face.  
_

Wanda looked up into Timothy’s hazel eyes. He reached out to pat her arm as he nodded affirmation of her suspicions. Wanda’s anger had been replaced by a feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach.

_And now I understand why he looked like that._

“Neil Saint James is Donna’s father.”

Timothy nodded solemnly. “I’m afraid so, Pet. I’m sure that’s why Benedict wants to see the book. He either suspects or knows by now.”

“How could I have not made the connection?”

“When Donna said he was a critic, my suspicions were immediately aroused.”

“Why didn’t you say anything then?”

“I think it was because I didn’t want it to be true, so I just pushed it to the back of my mind. I wanted to see if things were going to work out between them before I said anything. Then when we thought he was seeing somebody else, there was no point in bringing it up. However, when Benedict called asking about the book, I knew it had to be him. I should have shared my suspicions with you sooner, but didn’t want to upset you.”

“That son of a bitch! I can’t believe it! Of all the wankers in the world, and he has to be her father! He hates Benedict! He said such awful things about him, Tim! He went after him that whole summer…and then that hateful blog of his. He called my Benedict horse-faced!”

“Among other things,” lamented Timothy.

 “Neil Saint James is an arrogant, cheeky bastard!”

Timothy put his arm around Wanda’s shoulders. “I’m only too painfully aware, Darling. He’s a right bastard, but he’s Donna’s father and Benedict’s in love with her. One day soon, she’s going to be our daughter-in-law, which means he’ll be an in-law to us.”

“Oh, for fucks sake! Imagine having to plan a wedding with the likes of him and sharing holidays…and…extended family vacations to Disney World! Donna said they own a timeshare – they’ll always be underfoot!”

The couple was startled by a knock on the door. It was Jennifer.

“Gran, Grandpa! Mum said she’s just heard the lift. Uncle Ben must be here.”

“Be right there!” shouted Timothy.

“How did I manage to miss that, Tim? Of all people!”

“Probably because it never would have occurred to you that seven years after that rubbish was written your son would actually meet his daughter and fall in love with her.”

“I guess the only thing we can do is soldier on and welcome Donna into our home,” said Wanda. “It’s not her fault the prick is her father. Thank God she shows no signs of being like him!”

_Although that review Tracy just read to me was pretty intense._

“Well put, Commander. We’ll soldier on,” agreed Timothy. “We can’t pick who our parents are.”

_And if Benedict knew what we did, he’d be thinking the same thing about us,_ thought Wanda Ventham as they left the room.

 

******************************************************

 

Donna Saint James followed Benedict Cumberbatch into his parents’ home and found herself in a small foyer with the same black and white tiled floor that had been in the rest of the building. She noticed there was a small rectangular table against one of the walls that contained a floral arrangement and quite a few framed lithographs of various birds.

“Is that the closet you called me from that time?” Donna asked.

“Erm…yes, it is,” chuckled Benedict. “You have a good memory. So, are you ready then?”

“Yes. I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

“The lounge is right through here,” said Benedict, leading the way. “Hello? We’re here!” he called out.

Donna entered what was a decent-sized living room that appeared to have a balcony off it. There were built-in floor-to-ceiling bookcases and what looked like a never-ending display of family photos scattered around among the knick knacks, many featuring Benedict.

_Holy cow! This is not what I expected. I feel like I stepped back into the 1970’s. The furniture is definitely dated, yet it looks in good condition. Look at all that artwork! Paintings, framed reviews and posters, lithographs, folk art, family photos. Look at all the theatre memorabilia! And there are photos of Benedict everywhere – it’s like a photo gallery meets library devoted to him! I don’t think there’s an inch Wanda missed when she was decorating!_

“And this is the lounge,” announced Benedict proudly. “What do you think?”

_I think I would never want to be the one to have to clean all this clutter!_

 “I …um…like the retro look. It reminds me of my Nona’s house.”

Benedict side-eyed her. _Was she just taking the piss about Mum’s decorating?_

“Mum hates change. The flat’s looked this way ever since I was a small.”

“I can believe that.”

_That wallpaper is hideous. Good thing she only covered one wall with it. All those pictures and paintings...and are those butterflies mounted behind glass?   Yes, I believe they are! I don’t see any owls though._

_Oh, Donna, you can be such a cheeky bitch at times_ , thought Benedict. _I can’t wait to see your childhood home one day.  
_

“So where are all these owls you told me about? I see bird pictures, but no owls.”

“Oh, they’re in our country home in Gloucestershire. It’s like a stuffed owl sanctuary!” he tittered merrily.

Donna noticed the large desk containing the PC and printer wedged in between the two floor-to-ceiling bookshelves in the far corner of the living room.

_That must be where Wanda wrote her ad.  
_

“Your parents use the living room as a home office, too?”

“Yeah. There wasn’t any room to have a proper library, so they made do with that back corner.”

  
Benedict noticed the computer was on and there were two glasses on the desk, along with an almost empty jar of chocolate sauce. Donna watched as his eyes lit up upon seeing it was on.

_Brilliant! It’s on. Now, I just need to find an excuse to get on the bloody thing, which isn’t going to be an easy task today. Maybe they’ll all wind up in the kitchen at one point or go up to the roof terrace. That’s it! It’s a warm day and will get even warmer in here. I’ll suggest Mum serve pudding up on the roof. Then I can come back down here on the premise of getting something or using the loo. Perfect!  
_

“Why didn’t they just convert your old bedroom into an office when you moved out?”

Benedict laughed. “They’ve kept both Tracy’s and my old rooms exactly as they were. That way when Tracy’s girls were smalls, they could come here for sleepovers. I must admit that sometimes I still sleep over – especially when there’s an event going on in London. It’s easier to just come here rather than muck around with the tube or chasing down a cab…especially if I’ve had a bit too much to drink and the tube has already shut down for the night.”

_They want to keep the rooms ready for more grandchildren. They also seem to have high hopes that Benedict and I will give them more than one. Too funny! Maybe one day I’ll talk Wanda into converting one into a home office. All she would need is a daybed that converts into a twin bed.  
_

Donna noted that the dining room area was right off the living room and led to an archway that contained the kitchen. The table was set very formally. All she could see was a small table and countertops in the kitchen from where she stood. Various noises and the sound of high-pitched whispers were coming from within.

_Wow! Wanda surely pulled out all the stops for my visit. What a gorgeous table scape! I can’t to get a closer look. Those look like vintage linens.  
_

“I wonder where they all are?” mused Benedict, scratching his head.

“Sounds like everyone’s in the kitchen,” Donna commented.

Benedict looked past her to the kitchen. He thought he could see someone standing just inside the archway. He looked again and saw a flash of blonde hair as whoever it was stepped back against the wall.

“Whispering,” she added.

_For fucks sake! Is that Tracy spying on us?  
_

_Someone’s watching us,_ thought Donna _, and whoever it is doesn’t realize they can be seen from here._

“Here we are!” said Wanda brightly from behind them.

Benedict and Donna turned to see both Wanda and Timothy coming down the hallway that led to the bedrooms and bathroom.

“Hello! I thought you had abandoned us,” began Benedict as his parents approached them. He double-cheek kissed Wanda and hugged Timothy with one arm while holding the cake plate with the other.

“Abandon you? Not in a million years!” laughed Wanda. “You’re looking well, my handsome boy.”

“Thanks, Mum,” said Benedict in a small voice, face reddening at the compliment. “This is a big day for me,” he added almost bashfully.

“Your mother’s right. We would never abandon you!” exclaimed Timothy, smiling at Donna. “Not when there’s the promise of a new face and one of my wife’s delectable Sunday beef roasts to eat.”

“Dad, I believe you and Donna have already met,” said Benedict.

Timothy nodded and stepped forward to give Donna a hug. “How very nice to see you again, Donna. Welcome to our home,” He said warmly.

“Hi Tim,” said Donna shyly, hugging him back. “It’s good to see you again, too.”

Benedict scratched his head in puzzlement as he watched Timothy and Donna together.

_How delightfully odd! Dad has never, ever, hugged one of my girlfriends this soon after being barely acquainted with her.  
_

Timothy released Donna and stepped aside so she was face-to-face with Wanda, who literally beamed at her, as she pushed her sleeves up over her elbows.

“Mum, allow me to introduce you to my girlfriend, Donna Saint James,” declared Benedict proudly. He turned to Donna. “Donna, this is my mother, Wanda Ventham Cumberbatch.”

“What a pleasure to finally meet you, Mrs. Cumberbatch!” gushed Donna, as Wanda also enveloped her in a tight hug.

“Excellent!” Wanda whispered into her ear, while patting Donna’s back.

_Okay. Cocktail hour must have started early here. I don’t ever recall Mum hugging any of my girlfriends at the first meeting. And what’s with the back patting? Donna must think she’s crackers._

“Likewise, Donna, and please call me Wanda.”

Donna removed the small shopping bag from her wrist and handed it to Wanda. “Just a little host and hostess gift for you both.”

“Thank you! That was very sweet of you,” said Wanda as she peeked in the bag. “What do we have here?”

“There’s a bottle of rose wine and some gourmet finishing salts,” said Donna. “And this…” she said gesturing to the plate Benedict was carrying. “…is a turtle cheesecake that I baked. I understand it’s your favorite.”

_Oooooo…turtle cheesecake! Benedict must have told her. I’m fairly certain I didn’t.  
_

“And quite right you are! I’ll be sure to save room for a slice after lunch. I can’t wait to try the salts. All the chefs on the telly are always using them.”

“Rose is one of my favourite wines,” added Timothy. “It goes with everything.”

“Well, being Wanda said she was on the fence with what to serve, I …”

Donna felt Benedict’s ice blue eyes boring into her.

_What the fuck? She’s never spoken with Mum. How would she know that?_

Donna saw Wanda was making frantic eyes at her.

_NO! Shut up, Donna!  
_

_Christ on a crutch! She’s not even here five minutes and already we’ve got a clusterfuck in the making,_ thought Timothy as he caught the glint in Benedict’s eyes. _  
_

Donna felt panic well up inside her. _OH! Wrong thing to say! I need to back pedal and fast!_

“…decided a nice, rose is always a safe choice.”

_Mum said she was on the fence? When did this occur? This would imply that Donna actually spoke to her before coming here today. That night when Donna got the phone call from ‘Wanda’.   It must have been Mum after all. What the fuck is going on._

Benedict raised an eyebrow at Donna. “When did you two speak?”

“We didn’t,” corrected Donna feeling beads of perspiration breaking out on her forehead. “I’m just so nervous…you know…meeting your parents for the first time and all…well, meeting your mom for the first time,” she laughed nervously. “I meant to say that you were the one who told me about her not having made up her mind about what to serve. And you did tell me that – don’t you remember? Hahaha! Anyway, this wine should complement a roast beef nicely.”

_She’s waffling just like him and he recognizes it, bless him,_ thought Timothy _.  
_

_He knows we spoke. He’s not buying her explanation_ , thought Wanda.

“How do you know we’re having beef roast?” inquired Benedict.

Donna cast a frightened glance at Wanda. Wanda could see the plea for help in her eyes.

_Do something, Wanda! I don’t know what else to tell him!_

_I need to stop Barrister Ben in his tracks now,_ thought Wanda.

“For God’s sake, Benedict! Didn’t Donna just say she’s nervous? I’d like to see how cool and calm you’re going to be when you meet her parents,” she scoffed.

_I already did, and I wanted to puke my eyes out.  
_

_Excellent response, Wanda! He’s already met them and needed a glass of whiskey afterwards to calm down. Oh, I know how to shut him up!  
_

“I’m a food critic, Benedict. I can decipher the aroma of roast beef when I smell it, just as your nose can pick out the various floral notes in a perfume.”

_Brilliant response, Donna!_ Thought Timothy with relief.

_She done told me,_ thought Benedict with annoyance _. There’s something not quite right here. It’s almost as if they’re working in tandem._

“Now, would you please put the cake in the fridge and fetch the others?” asked Wanda.

“Yeah. Sure. Be right back,” Benedict said reluctantly as he headed towards the kitchen. He caught another flash of blonde hair near the archway.

_For fucks sake – it’s either Tracy or Emmy. Jenn has brown hair like Derrick. My head is fucking reeling. I’ve got too many unanswered questions that need answering. I fear there was never any book deal, nor were there recipes stored in their desk drawer - just like I know there is no webcam set up around Camden in order to garner tourism. I’ve got to get on that computer later and hopefully, sneak a peek at Donna’s mobile to see what this ‘Wanda’s’ number was. I’m willing to bet that it really was Mum she was talking to.  
_

Benedict Cumberbatch took a look over his shoulder to see his parents in deep discussion with Donna Saint James.

_Something’s going on with them, and I’m going to find out what it is._

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. My apologies if there are any lapses in continuity. It’s been tough to write the unravel.  
> 2\. Hyacinth Bucket is a fictional character in the old BBC sitcom, Keeping Up Appearances. Hyacinth was obsessed with her table settings for her candlelight suppers.  
> 3\. There is no restaurant in Belgravia called Printemps. It is purely fictional  
> 


	80. Chapter 80

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I am so humbled and thrilled at the same time: This story has now over 50,000 hits! Wow!  
> Thank you to all my lovely readers, particularly to those who have had the patience to stay with me all this time to continue to see how this convoluted plot unravels. As a thank you, this will be an extra-long chapter. Enjoy!
> 
> This week: Part 3 of Sunday dinner with the Cumberbatches as faux pas continue. Benedict’s suspicions are further aroused. Benedict and Tracy squabble. 
> 
> Note: I’ll be using ****** to indicate things happening at the same time.

  

Benedict Cumberbatch strode into the kitchen right past his half-sister, Tracy, who was standing flat against the wall taking in the conversation in the lounge. He stopped and pretended to do a double take. 

_Jesus! I knew it was her! What in the fuck is she doing?_

“Spying now are we?” he asked in disbelief. 

“Of course not! I heard voices and wanted to get a look at your girlfriend is all,” replied Tracy, face reddening. “There’s nothing wrong with that.” 

“Do you realize she can see you perfectly from that angle?” 

“Can you really see me from there?” 

“Yes,” snapped Benedict. “Nothing like making a good first impression is there, Tracy?” 

_Damn. I played it too close to the waistcoat. There wasn’t enough time to get out of the way. I keep forgetting how fast he walks.  
_

“Hi Uncle Ben!” said Emily and Jennifer in unison. 

“Hi,” said Benedict distractedly. He kept his gaze trained on Tracy. 

_Shit! My little brother isn’t quite done with me yet._

“If you wanted to meet Donna so badly, why didn’t you just come out then?” 

“I thought the moment belonged to Mum and Tim,” retorted Tracy, returning to the countertop where she had been filling a plate with table water crackers. “They’ve waited a long time for you to find the right one.” 

“It’s quite the momentous occasion,” laughed Emily. “We finally get to meet the mysterious woman who you’ve made a commitment to.” 

“Gran’s been waiting for this for years!” added Jennifer. “I hope she likes children. Gran’s going to be pushing for grandbabies as soon as you go on honeymoon.” 

“I bet Ben already has baby names picked out,” smirked Tracy. “Your uncle has been broody since he was twelve!” 

“She loves children, and I do not have names picked out!” 

_I lie. I’ve had names picked out for years. Enough to name four children – two boys and two girls._

Tracy snorted. “You forget who you’re talking to. I remember when you used to doodle your future children’s names instead of doing your school work! If you have a son, he’ll be Timothy Henry Carlton Cumberbatch for sure.” 

“Timothy _Frederick_ Carlton Cumberbatch. Frederick after Mum’s father.” 

_Hmmm…Frederick is going to forever remind me of that wanker waiter at the Tate Modern. Maybe Timothy Henry would be better on second thought._

“My….broodiness and what names I choose for my future children is none of anyone’s business.” 

“ _You_ choose? Don’t you think the mother should have a say?” asked Heather incredulously. I know it’s none of my business, but really?” 

Benedict turned his gaze on Heather and stared down at her, eyes flashing angrily. 

_Who in the hell invited her?_

“Hi Benedict,” said Heather with a big smile. “I’m actually really happy to hear that you _finally_ got a girlfriend. She must be very patient, bless her.” 

_What in the fuck is that supposed to mean? Is she inferring that I’m difficult?_

Benedict watched as Emily poked her friend in the side and whispered something in her ear. Heather glared at her. 

“Well, he’s not an easy one to date – I can tell you that from personal experience!” she hissed. 

 

*********************************************************

 

“Phew! That was a close call!” whispered Wanda, fanning herself with her hand. 

“We can’t afford any more slipups,” chimed in Timothy. “You see just how quickly he picks up on things.” 

“I’m so sorry! This is going to be harder than I thought,” said Donna fearfully. “Benedict knows something’s going on. I can see it in his eyes.” 

“It’s up to us to keep him distracted,” declared Timothy. “I think I’ll suggest he give you a tour of the flat and the roof terrace. I’ve got a small garden up there.” 

“Once my son-in-law gets here and everyone starts mingling, he’ll soon forget,” added Wanda hopefully. “Good food, drink and conversation will do the trick.” 

Timothy fixed her with a stare. 

“Have you lost your mind, Commander? This is Benedict we’re talking about. He forgets nothing. Even if we do manage to distract him today, he’ll go back to it at another time. I don’t believe for one minute he bought the live webcam in Hampstead story any more than he bought your story about writing your memoirs.” 

“He’s watching us from the kitchen doorway,” said Donna in a low voice. “Gosh, I hope he doesn’t start questioning me! I’m afraid I’ll crack under pressure.” 

“I think you’re safe for today, Donna. Tim and I will do our best to keep him distracted.” 

“Just remember to keep changing the topic, should he bring it up,” suggested Timothy. “Wanda and I have become quite adept at the art of distraction… and deception.” 

“Hells bells!” scoffed Wanda. “We’re doing this so Benedict can finally realize his dream of a wife and children.” 

“We’re also doing this to realize our dream of grandchildren,” retorted Timothy with a bitter laugh. “As you know, Donna, we have our own selfish agenda.” 

“Well, I want those same things!” whispered Donna. “I want a husband and children for myself…and I want them with Benedict.” 

“We must make sure to stick together then!” admonished Wanda. “So we can keep our common goal between us.” 

“I pledge my loyalty to you and the Plan, Commander,” quipped Timothy. 

_Shit! I am so in over my head_ , thought Donna. _I pray to God that Benedict never finds out about this!  
_

“I promise to be extra vigilant about what I say today, Wanda. I won’t let you and Tim down!” 

Donna glanced worriedly towards the kitchen and noticed that the blonde woman she had seen on the bus had been standing close to the archway, obviously listening to the conversation. 

_I recognize her. That’s Benedict’s half-sister. Why is she peeking out at us? I bet she’s nosy just like Ben. It must run in Wanda’s side of the family.  
_

“We’re still being watched,” whispered Donna. “This time by a blonde woman.” 

“I have no doubt,” chuckled Timothy. “We’ve got spies everywhere in this flat.” 

 

**************************************************

  

“What’s that?” asked Tracy, indicating the cake plate in Benedict’s hands. 

“A turtle cheesecake for pudding. Donna baked it.” 

“Oh, I love turtle cheesecake!” exclaimed Emily. “Let’s see it!” 

“I bet it’s not as good as the one Gran makes,” said Jennifer. “Gran’s is best.” 

“Gran doesn’t make it, she buys it at Borough Market just like her ‘famous’ banoffee pie,” chortled Emily. 

“Let’s have a look then,” Tracy said, crossing the room to take the plate from Benedict. She placed it on the counter and removed the cover so they could properly inspect the cheesecake. 

The four women eagerly gathered around Benedict to inspect the cheesecake. It was at least six inches thick and appeared to have swirls of caramel and chocolate running through it. The top was covered with a generous layer of shiny, milk chocolate ganache, topped with extra-large, cocoa dusted pecans that had white and dark chocolate drizzled over them in a zig-zag pattern. There was a cluster of three large, ripe, sugar-dusted strawberries in the center with their leaves left on. The graham cracker crust appeared to have chopped pecans in it. 

“I’ll be damned! This is a work of art…disguised as a bloody cheesecake! exclaimed Tracy, clearly impressed. 

“Wow!” cried Jennifer. “It looks like there are mini-chocolate chips and nuts in the crust!” 

“It’s too pretty to eat!” Emily said, squeezing closer to Benedict to get a better look. “Are you sure she made that?” 

“Ooooo how lovely it looks! Just like a bakery cake!” commented Jennifer. “I wish we could nick a little taste,” she added wistfully. 

“No, you can’t,” said Benedict firmly. “It’s for pudding, and Donna made it especially for Mum because it’s her favourite.” 

“Look! The nuts have chocolate stripes!” exclaimed Heather. “No one can get the stripes that even. I bet she bought them at a chocolate shop and put them on the cake.” 

Emily automatically picked one of the chocolate-covered pecans off the top and popped it into her mouth.   She rolled her eyes as she chewed and swallowed. 

“Oh my God! These are brilliant! They’re covered in this gooey, buttery caramel, then chocolate and rolled in cocoa powder. Try one, Mum,” she said reaching out to take another one. 

Heather and Jennifer immediately reached out to help themselves to a nut half. 

“Hands off!” snarled Benedict, batting their hands away. “Look what you’ve gone and done, Emmy! Now there’s an empty space where a nut should have been!” 

_And Donna will think I nicked the nut off her cake! I can’t tell her it was Emmy, that will only cause hard feelings.  
_

“Oh, I doubt she’ll even notice,” scoffed Tracy _._ “What cake remains perfect once it’s done some traveling? Whenever I bring over a cake, the frosting is always marred from moving around on the plate.” _  
_

_A lot you don’t know, sister mine. Donna notices everything and then some.  
_

“Are you _sure_ she really made that? It looks too professional,” mused Heather. “I think she bought it.” 

_I think you need to shut up!_ Thought Benedict angrily. _Donna would never stoop so low as to pass off store bought as her own. Now, me, on the other hand, did that very thing with my Black Forrest Trifle.  
_

“May I ask why are you here?” demanded Benedict. “No offense intended, Heather, but this is supposed to be a _private_ _family only_ lunch.” 

Tracy pinched Benedict’s forearm. 

“Stop that for fucks sake! That hurt!” 

“You need to control that mouth filter of yours, Benedict. Offense taken on Heather’s behalf,” Tracy said brusquely. 

Heather stood by quietly, looking hurt. 

_Once a jerk, always a jerk. I’m so glad he didn’t fancy me._

“Thank you, Mrs. Peacock. I don’t why he feels the need to say such nasty things to me…just like that night at James Rhodes’ concert.” 

_That was the night of the Competition.  The night from fucking hell and back,_ thought Benedict. 

“The power is out in our residence hall,” explained Emily, in an attempt to calm things. “We have a paper to finish, so Gran is letting us use her computer.” 

_Apologize, Benedict. There was no need to be stropy with Heather...this time._

“Oh. Sorry,” mumbled Benedict half-heartedly. 

“See, I told you he’s got a right snotty streak,” Heather whispered to Emily and Jennifer. “He’s _never_ wrong.” 

“He also always has to have the last word,” Emily whispered back . 

“The more I look at this cheesecake, the more it does reminds me of the one Gran buys at Borough Market,” added Jennifer thoughtfully. “Borough Market was open yesterday, so she could have popped over there and bought it then.” 

“The one at Borough Market isn’t nearly as tall,” said Emily. “It’s flatter.” 

“I told you that Donna made it herself from scratch,” insisted Benedict through gritted teeth. “There’s no reason for her to lie.” 

“Of course there is! She wants to impress Mum, bless her!” laughed Tracy. “It’s only natural. I remember making a Battenberg cake for Derrick’s parents the first time I was invited to Sunday dinner.” 

“I beg to differ. I clearly remember Mum making it,” scoffed Benedict. “And you passed it off as your own baking!” 

“Oh, that’s really dishonest, Mrs. Peacock!” squealed Heather. “Does your husband know you did that?” 

“MUM!” exclaimed Jennifer and Emily in unison. “You didn’t!” 

“Gran just helped me a little,” replied Tracy sheepishly. “That fondant is really hard to cover the cake with.” 

“Yeah, Mum helped by baking the whole bloody cake,” insisted Benedict. “I was seven, but I remember it as if it were yesterday.” 

_Unfortunately, you would_ , thought Tracy. 

“You stood by at this very counter and watched while I was sat drawing at the table here,” continued Benedict thoroughly enjoying Tracy’s discomfort. 

“Sod off, Benedict. You’re embarrassing me in front of my daughters and Emmy’s friend. Who cares if I baked it or not in the grand scheme of things?” fumed Tracy. 

_Oh, I think you care an awful lot, Tracy!_   

“Derrick’s parents were impressed as hell and that is what counted at the time,” hissed Tracy in a low voice. 

Benedict just stood at the counter wearing a self-satisfied smile on his handsome face. 

_I’d love to smack that smirk off my brother’s face. I hope his girlfriend can handle him when he gets cheeky._

“It really does look like a professional pastry chef made this cheesecake, Ben,” remarked Tracy, quickly changing the subject. “I’ve been baking cheesecakes for years, but mine _never_ look like this. It must have taken her hours to drizzle the white and dark chocolate over those pecans so precisely.” 

_Knowing Donna, it probably did. She takes great pride in everything she does – even cleaning the loo._

“Next, you’ll be telling us she makes her own caramel,” laughed Emily. 

“She _does_ , Emmy. I’ve seen her do it, and it’s quite simple really. It’s just sugar heated in a pan. The trick is to watch it carefully so it doesn’t burn. Then she adds butter, cream and vanilla. Not vanilla extract – Donna believes in using real vanilla beans.” 

“Bloody hell! Now you sound just like a host of one of those cooking shows on the telly!” guffawed Tracy. 

“You know she could have gone to the grocery and bought a jar of caramel sauce,” mused Heather. “Are you absolutely _sure_ she made it herself?” 

“Of course she made it herself,” snapped Benedict with growing irritation. “Donna spent the summer before she went to Uni at the Cordon Bleu in Paris taking a course.” 

“Ooooo!” said the three girls in unison, clearly impressed.

 Tracy snorted and mock bowed to her half-brother. 

“Pardon us to hell, but how were we to know that your girlfriend’s such an accomplished cook. Stop being so stropy, Benedict! You don’t want her to see what you’re like when you’re in a mood.” 

_Too late. She’s already seen me in a mood and miraculously still loves me in spite of myself, bless her.  
_

“She already has,” Heather told Tracy in a confidential tone. “And frankly, I find it a miracle that she still fancies him given what went down the night of Jimmy Rhodes concert.” 

“Thank you for your unsolicited commentary, Heather. Immensely informative as always,” muttered Benedict, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Have you ever considered a career in tabloid journalism?” 

Benedict hastily re-arranged the pecan halves on top of the cake. He stood back and surveyed his handiwork. There were marks on the chocolate ganache where the dozen pecans had originally resided. 

“That’s not _too_ bad. What do you think?” asked Benedict worriedly. 

“Oh, that doesn’t look the same, Uncle Ben,” said Emily. “I think you made it worse.” 

“She’s going to know you mucked with her cake,” added Jennifer. 

"For fucks sake, Ben! Now you've got bare spots where the ganache stuck to some of the nuts," observed Tracy.

“You’re in deep shit now,” remarked Heather. “I wouldn’t want to be you for all the tea in China when she sees the right mess you’ve made of her cheesecake.” 

“SHUT UP, ALL OF YOU! Please!” Pleaded Benedict, rubbing the back of his neck anxiously. “I’ve got to sort this out!” 

 

************************************************

  

“SHUT UP, ALL OF YOU! Please!” came Benedict’s distressed voice from the kitchen. 

Donna, Wanda and Timothy all exchanged concerned glances. 

“I wonder what happened,” said Donna. 

_Benedict sounds like he’s going to have a nervous breakdown,_ thought Donna. _  
_

_Hells bells! What in the hell could they be having a row about?_ Thought Wanda. 

_I don’t think I want to know what’s going on,_ thought Timothy. _  
_

“I’ll go see what all the fuss is about,” said Wanda. “It’s time they brought out the nibbles anyway.” 

“And I’ll go make us some drinks. What do you fancy, Donna?” 

“Ice water is fine,” replied Donna. “It’s a little early in the day for me to be imbibing.” 

Wanda and Timothy both stopped in their tracks and exchanged amused looks. 

_Oh, oh. Look at their faces. It’s apparently not too early in this house._

_Donna’s obviously not a drinker and she wound up with Ben?_ Thought Wanda. _She must be his designated driver when they go out!_

_Water? For fucks sake! Olivia always enjoyed drinking with us. Donna’s in the wrong house_ , thought Timothy. _I’m not going to be intimidated by it. I’m marching myself into that kitchen and making a batch of proper Pimms cup._

“Tim makes the best Pimms cup cocktails in London. You must try one,” insisted Wanda. 

_I’ve offended them. I guess one drink before lunch won’t do any harm. I just hope she’s got something to snack on with it._

“Okay! You talked me into it,” smiled Donna. “But just a small one, please.” 

“Of course,” agreed Timothy pleasantly. “I don’t want you to get pissed before you’ve had a chance to taste Wanda’s brilliant cooking.” 

“Make yourself comfortable, Donna. We’ll be right back,” said Wanda. 

Timothy picked up the bag with the wine and salts. “If you’re feeling warm, you can get some fresh air out on the balcony,” he suggested. “It’s shaping up to be a rather hot day I’m afraid.” 

_In more ways than one_ , he thought as he followed Wanda into the kitchen. 

 

*********************************************************

  

“Just calm down, Ben!” Said Tracy. “I’m sure we can fix this. Now, let me see…I’ve got an idea. Jenn, please get me the jar of chocolate sauce that Gran always keeps in the fridge.” 

“What in the fuck is going on in here?” demanded Wanda, as she breezed into the kitchen. “We could hear you loud and clear out there!” 

Benedict leaned on the counter, head in his hands. 

“Donna’s cheesecake is ruined,” he moaned. “She can’t find out!” 

“I didn’t mean to ruin it!” cried Emily. “I only meant to taste one of the nuts.” 

“It wasn’t that bad until he decided to move all the nuts around,” pointed out Heather. “I personally never would have done that.” 

“Wait until you see how he mucked up the top, Gran!” chimed in Jennifer. “It looks like something was walking around on the top of it.” 

“Like a bug,” agreed Heather, indicating the top of the cake. “Definitely a cockroach if you ask me.” 

“No one bloody asked you!” growled Benedict. 

“She’ll think you have bugs in the kitchen, Mrs. Cumberbatch…,” continued Heather as if Benedict weren’t there. “You don’t want that!” 

“I told you I can fix it,” insisted Tracy. “Just get me that chocolate sauce.” 

“Shush! Let me have a look,” said Wanda, pushing past the girls. 

Wanda gazed down at the cake, while Timothy peered over her shoulder. 

“Hells bells!” 

“That’s one right mess if I ever saw one,” commented Timothy. “I think I’ll make up those Pimms cups now. I know I could use one...or two.” 

“Stop making such a fuss, Benedict. It’s a quick fix, and she’ll never be the wiser,” said Tracy again with confidence. “All I have to do is dab on the chocolate sauce Mum keeps in the fridge and put the nuts back on.” 

“I can’t find the chocolate sauce,” said Jennifer with a frown. “Did you move it, Gran? It’s not in the usual place.” 

“How can that be?” fretted Wanda. “I just made some yesterday to serve with my chocolate mousse. It’s in a clear glass jar next to the salad cream.” 

Heather and Emily exchanged guilty looks. 

“That’s because we ate it while we were working on our paper,” piped up Heather. “I don’t think we ate all of it, did we, Emmy?” 

“We were hungry and didn’t know you made it for today, Gran!” 

“We’re so sorry, Mrs. Cumberbatch!” cried Heather. 

Benedict pounded his fist on the countertop. “What in the fuck am I going to tell Donna? That my niece has long hands and eats everything in sight?” 

Emily looked as if she were going to cry, as Heather rubbed her shoulder. 

Wanda took a closer look at the cheesecake and removed a long spatula from one of the drawers. 

“I can sort this out, but I need you all to scatter. Tim, please mix up the drinks. Tracy, I need a plate to put the nuts on while I smooth the top out and a glass of hot water. Girls, please lay out the nibbles in the lounge; and Benedict, I need you to go out there and introduce everyone to Donna. Give her a tour of the flat if you have to. Maybe one of you should go fetch Derrick while you’re at it.” 

_There’s nothing as awe-inspiring as when the Commander takes control of a situation,_ thought Timothy as he added a whole bottle of chilled Pimm’s #1 to a chilled pitcher. _Let’s hope to heaven if the shit hits the fan with Benedict, she can take control of it in the same calm and collected manner._

 

*****************************************************

  

Donna sat on the tuxedo sofa and strained to listen to the goings on in the kitchen. 

_Gosh, Benedict’s been in there for a long time. I can barely hear them. They’re all talking so quietly…almost as if something happened and they’re desperate to do damage control. Or maybe they’re talking about me_. _Oh, I hope not. I really want this to work today.  
_

The intercom box buzzed causing Donna to jump. 

_What the heck? Oh, someone must be downstairs.  
_

She looked towards the kitchen. No one had made a move to come out to see who was downstairs. All she could hear was the sound of cabinets, dishes and hushed voices _.  
_

_I guess I’ll see who it is._

Donna rose, crossed the room to the intercom and pressed the button labeled ‘speak’. 

“Hello. Can I help you?” 

**_“You can buzz me in now.”_** Came a masculine voice. 

“Umm…not unless you tell me who you are, please.” 

_I wish there was a security camera so I could see who it is. We have one back home in New York, and it’s so useful. If Benedict and I ever wind up buying our own home, a security camera is going to be a must._

**_“It’s Derrick. To whom am I speaking with?”_**

_Who in the hell is Derrick?_

“Are you looking for the Cumberbatch residence?” 

There was silence. 

_I bet this guy is a door-to-door salesman…but on a Sunday? I bet he wants one of the other apartments and rang this bell by mistake.  
_

“Sir, I think you rang the wrong apartment bell. This is the Cumberbatch residence.” 

**_“Yeah. I’m Wanda’s son-in-law. Can you please unlatch the door so I can come up then? My hands are full, and I can’t manage the keys.”_ ** _  
_

_OH! He must be his half-sister’s husband. He’s the one who’s always traveling for work.  
_

“Sorry. Here we go!” 

_Now, he’ll think I’m a clueless idiot, which I am. Someone should have told me that he was expected, but I guess they hadn’t planned on leaving me alone for so long._

Donna hit the button to unlock the downstairs door and went back to the living room. She sat back down on the couch and examined the framed photographs on the end table beside her. One was a photo of a white-blond Benedict sitting on Wanda’s lap with Timothy crouching beside them. 

_Look how cute Benedict was and what blond hair he had! He looks like he was no more than three or four in this photo. Wanda sure was the glamorous mother back then! She’s still a beautiful woman._

The other photo was of a young Wanda dressed in what must have been a form-fitting costume from a sci-fi show. 

_OH! Wait! I recognize that costume! This is from when Wanda played Colonel Virginia Lake in UFO! I remember when Carly and I used to watch that show with Grandpa Colin on BBC America. He loved Wanda! Wait until he hears she’s most likely going to be my mother-in-law one day. He’ll be so excited.  
_

Donna spied a crystal candy dish containing gold foil-wrapped candies sitting on top of a book that was wedged in between the photographs.   She picked it up and the unmistakable fragrance of chocolate wafted up to her nostrils. _  
_

_Mmmm…chocolates! Wanda’s just like Nona. They believe in keeping actual candy in their candy dishes! I think I’ll have one because I’m starving._

Donna removed one of the gold balls and carefully peeled off the foil. It appeared to be a milk chocolate truffle coated in chopped almonds. 

_After the last time at Benedict’s, I need to watch how I bite into it. I don’t need melted chocolate all over Wanda’s carpeting – though to be fair it isn’t quite that hot in here. Yet._

As Donna put the chocolate in her mouth, she heard a knock on the door to the apartment. She popped the whole thing into her mouth and bit down as she started to get up to answer the door. 

_It must be Derrick. He obviously had a key to the elevator, but not to the apartment? How strange._

“Coming!” called Benedict as he emerged from the kitchen with four women in tow. “Did you buzz someone in, Donna?” 

“Derrick,” said Donna around a mouthful of chocolate. 

“I’ll get it,” said the older blonde-haired woman Donna recognized from the bus stop that night on Kensington High Street. 

_That’s Benedict’s half –sister, Tracy. She’s the one who was peeking out from the archway. Someone needs to tell her that she’s a lousy spy.  
_

“Miss me?” Benedict inquired, nuzzling Donna’s neck. “Sorry to have taken so long,” he murmured. “What are you eating? I smell chocolate.” _  
_

“Truffles…mmmm,” Donna pointed to the candy dish. “Good…Mmmm.” 

_Oh my, this is very good….almond praline with a hint of ….hmmm…what is that? Chili? I detect a bit of heat…_

Donna suddenly felt a horrific burn in her mouth. 

_Fucking cayenne! That’s what I taste! Holy shit this is hot! Wooooo! I need water or something with dairy to eat!_

Donna looked frantically around for something to put in her mouth, as she broke out into a sweat. 

“What’s wrong, Love?” asked Benedict with a frown. “You don’t look good.” 

“Don’t I know you?” asked a short blonde girl with large blue plastic-rimmed glasses and bright blue eyes. 

“I…um…no…I don’t think….,” began Donna around a mouthful of spicy truffle. Her mouth felt as if it were on fire. 

_I need to spit this out. Now! Before my palate is wrecked._

 

********************************************

Tracy opened the door to find her husband, Derrick, arms laden with her baking dish and a large plastic laundry bag containing Emily and Heather's wet laundry. 

“We were about to send out a bloody search party for you,” Tracy laughed as she held the door open for him to enter. “Where in the hell have you been? Having a wander about Kensington?” 

“Looking for something that doesn’t exist in Central London – the ever-elusive free street parking. I finally gave up and used the car park at the Royal Garden. Here are your keys. I couldn’t manage them along with all this. Mrs. Blake was on her way out, so she let me into the lift.” 

“Let me take that,” Tracy said referring to the laundry bag Derrick was juggling along with a rectangular, foil-covered baking dish. “As long as the bread and butter pudding made it in one piece.” 

“Yes, it appears to have arrived unscathed,” he said, handing the bag over to his wife. “This bag with Emmy and Heather’s wet laundry is like lead.” 

“It had just finished the rinsing and was about to go into the spin cycle when the power went out, so I’ll just pop it in the washer to spin the excess water out, then it will have plenty of time to dry while we eat.” 

“How’s everything going so far? What’s Ben’s girl like? Wanda must be over the moon to finally see him on the verge of settling down. You know part of me is actually going to miss those rows between Wanda and Ben,” he chuckled. “They were quite amusing at times.” 

Tracy hesitated before responding. 

_I have a feeling that Mum’s already met Ben’s girl, and I think I know how; but I can’t tell you because I can’t even believe that I’m entertaining such a crazy notion._

“Well, things started off with a bang. Mum’s doing some damage control, and Tim’s mixing up some Pimms cup.” 

“Do I need to know anything else then?” 

“No. The rest you’re better off not knowing, Love.” 

“Ignorance is often bliss when it comes to your family,” agreed Derrick Peacock. 

 

**********************************************************

  

Donna Saint James looked up at Benedict, eyes tearing. 

“There’s cayenne pepper in the candy! I need milk or something with dairy!” she rasped. “OMG…it burns so much!” 

“I’ll get some milk!” said Benedict, sprinting for the kitchen. _I hope to hell they have whole milk and not that semi-skimmed crap!_

“I have cheese! Will cheese help?” asked Emily, eagerly offering the plate she was holding to Donna. 

Donna noticed the girl seemed to be studying her intently, as she unceremoniously grabbed a small chunk of cheese and stuffed it into her mouth. She quickly chewed and swallowed. The she stuffed three more chunks into her mouth. 

_Cotswold cheddar with chopped chives. Wensleydale with cranberries. Stilton with apricots. Thank the culinary gods I can taste them!!!  
_

_I’ve seen her before, but where?_ Thought Emily _. It wasn’t too long ago either._

“Alright?” asked Emily timidly. “Those truffles pack wicked heat! Gran buys them all the time and I finally got up the courage to try one last week. I thought the roof of my mouth was burnt!” 

“Better. Thank you,” croaked Donna as Heather approached her and held out a plate of cut up vegetables. 

“Try the celery. I always eat that with hot wings,” she suggested. “Use the cheese dip. That will cool off your mouth.” 

Donna took a celery stick and dipped it into the small bowl of creamy Gorgonzola dip that was also on the plate.   To her relief she was able to distinguish fresh dill in it. 

“Thanks,” Donna said gratefully while munching on the celery. Her mouth was starting to feel better. 

“Have we met?” asked Emily, cocking her head to the side as she continued to study Donna. “You look very familiar to me.” 

_She’s one of Benedict’s nieces. The only time I’ve ever seen her is when she got off the bus.  
_

“Not that I recall,” said Donna around a mouthful of celery. 

_Give me time, Donna. I’ll figure it out,_ thought Emily _. We’ve definitely met or came into contact.  
_

A younger girl with light brown hair stood slightly behind Emily. She had been staring at Donna. When Donna turned her gaze on her, she smiled shyly and stepped forward indicating the bowl she was holding. 

“This is Gran’s hot crab dip. It’s got hot pepper in it, so it won’t help. I’m Jennifer, by the way. Emmy’s younger sister.” 

“Is everything alright?” asked Tracy as she and Derrick entered the lounge area. 

 

*************************************************

 

 Wanda Ventham was painstakingly smoothing the ganache on top of the cheesecake when Benedict rushed into the kitchen, looking very harried. 

“I need a glass!” he exclaimed rushing past his father to the cabinet and getting down a glass. 

Timothy looked up from mixing his Pimms cup. “Can’t you wait? I’m just about done here. Then I’ll be happy to pour you one.” 

Benedict opened the refrigerator. “NO! It has to be milk. Whole milk! Donna ate one of those fucking hot pepper truffles and needs something to cool her mouth down!” 

Wanda paused, spatula in hand. “Didn’t she notice the red chili pepper on the wrapper? Surely, that would have been a hint as to what was inside.” 

“I have no idea,” replied Benedict, filling the glass. “All I know is that she’s hysterical that it’ll ruin her palate! Her mouth is her livelihood for Christ’s sake!”   

“Off you go then. I’ll tend to the milk,” said Timothy, shooing Benedict out of the room. 

Wanda shook her head. “You realize that if something does happen to her palate, it’ll be my fault for putting out the candies.” 

“She’ll be fine,” said Timothy as he put the milk away. “It’s just a temporary burn.” 

“I hope so,” lamented Wanda. “So, how does this look?” 

Timothy examined the cake. The top was once again perfectly smooth as Wanda began to carefully place the pecans back in their original places. 

“Well done you! She’ll never even suspect.” 

Wanda frowned. “She had the nuts positioned in such a way that they marked where the individual portions are meant to be cut. I’m one nut short. It will be obvious to Donna.” 

“Allow me to offer my assistance then,” said Timothy selecting one of the nuts from the plate and popping it into his mouth. “Oh, this _is_ quite good! You should try one.” 

“Jesus, Timothy!” Wanda hissed. 

“Now you have an even number of nuts and more generous portions for all. Aren’t you glad I was able to sort it out for you?” 

 

**********************************************************

 

Benedict Cumberbatch noticed that Donna was surrounded by his nieces and Heather when he returned to the lounge with a tall glass of ice cold milk. He handed it to Donna, who accepted it gratefully. 

_Jesus Christ! I wonder what they’ve been asking her. Heather definitely recognizes Donna. Who knows what the little darling is going to come out with, bless her._

“Drink this down, Donna. It’ll neutralize the capsaicin.” 

Donna drank the milk down in one gulp. As soon as she finished, a loud burp immediately escaped her mouth. 

_SHIT! How ladylike was that? Look at their faces. They look like they’re going to burst out laughing at me. Benedict better wipe that smug look off his face. He thinks it’s funny, too. As if he never burps in front of me._

Heather handed Donna one of the cocktail napkins from the stack she had been holding under the plate. “Here. You’re got a milk mustache,” she tittered. “It makes you look like Groucho Marx.” 

“Excuse me. Thank you…” began Donna, quickly blotting her upper lip. 

_OH.NO. Its Heather from the night of the Competition! Her hair is a little longer now so I didn’t recognize her right off the bat.  
_

“Every time I drink something down like that, I burp like a pig,” giggled Heather. “Just like you did. Isn’t it satisfying to have a good burp yes?” 

“We weren’t aiming for elegance, we were going for heat extinguishing,” snapped Benedict. “Speed was paramount.” 

“Is everything alright?” asked Tracy with concern as she and Derrick entered the lounge area. 

“Yeah. A little mishap with a hot truffle, but it’s all been sorted,” replied Benedict rubbing the back of his neck. 

“I think the cheese and milk helped,” commented Emily hopefully. “Her eyes have stopped tearing.” 

“The milk was better, yes?” Jennifer asked Donna. 

“Anything dairy will stop the burning,” piped up Heather. “I gave her some of the Gorgonzola dip.” 

Donna nodded and desperately tried to follow the conversation going on around her. 

_Jeez Louise! They all talk at once! I need to put names to the faces. At least I know Heather and Derrick. And Tracy is the woman with Derrick.  
_

“How did you not see the tiny red chili pepper on the foil wrapper?” asked Benedict in puzzlement while scratching his earlobe. “I thought it was rather obvious as to what’s in them.” 

“Well, it wasn’t at all obvious to me,” Donna retorted in a low voice. 

_They needed to print: WARNING: may damage delicate mouth tissues on the wrapper and box. That would take up too much room. Perhaps a skull and crossbones?_

“In what?” demanded Tracy. 

“I’m lost,” sighed Derrick. “One at a time please, girls. Let’s start at the beginning. What happened?” 

_Thank heaven I’m not the only one having trouble following them,_ thought Donna with relief. 

“Donna ate one of those cayenne chocolate truffles that Mrs. Cumberbatch fancies and it burned her mouth,” explained Heather. “Then we gave her dairy, she enjoyed a good hearty burp and here we are. All sorted.” 

“Thank you, Heather. I don’t know what we’d do without you,” said Benedict in a haughty tone. 

Emily giggled. “Remember the night Gran first brought those truffles home and you ate one, Uncle Ben? Or was it two at once?” 

“Hahahah! That heat caught you off guard and you threw yourself on the couch and started yelling and clutching at your throat,” chortled Jennifer, proceeding to act out Benedict’s folly for her small audience. “Grandpa said: for fucks sake’ Benedict, just have yourself a glass of milk and stop making such a fuss…” 

“Gran said: It’s just a piece of chocolate with a touch of cayenne is all!” added Emily with glee. 

_I beg to differ. It was MORE than just a touch,_ thought Donna miserably. _Some asshole in the confectionary dumped quite a bit into the fondant. Ugh! Those fucking things should come with a warning._ _Lucky for them, I'm not reviewing hot and spicy truffles._

“Okay. I think Donna got the gist of what transpired,” said Benedict meekly in an effort to shut Emily up. 

However, Emily would not take the hint and kept up with her imitation of Wanda. 

“Then Gran said: If you hadn’t crammed so much into your bloody big mouth that wouldn’t have happened. They’re meant to be savoured not scarfed!” 

_Savor my ass! There’s no way in hell anyone could savor those palate killers,_ thought Donna. _Benedict looks like he wants to crawl into a hole, and his niece is really enjoying his discomfort._

Emily clutched her side from laughing so much. “This is too funny! I can’t stop laughing.” 

“Jolly good. Now you can dispense with this boring anecdote and compose yourself,” growled Benedict dismissively. “Donna’s not interested in hearing anymore…” 

“Well, _I_ want to hear what happened,” said Derrick with a huge grin. “I was off on a business trip and missed this. As you were, Emmy.” 

Emily flashed Benedict a haughty smile and continued with the story. 

“Then Uncle Ben said: It was two, Dad!” 

“There was even more throat clutching,” giggled Jennifer from the couch. 

“And rolling. I bet he was rolling around,” mused Heather. 

“Yes! Like this!” demonstrated Jennifer. 

“Is that what they teach you in acting school? Seriously, now? I bet you excelled in throat clutching and rolling at LAMDA, as you’re quite the dramatic one in real life!” Heather snickered. 

_Piss off, Heather,_ thought Benedict angrily _. If Donna weren’t here, I’d dress you down so fast you wouldn’t know what happened._

Emily lowered her voice like Benedict’s: “My taste buds are shot! I can’t taste anything! I can’t feel my bloody tongue! How will I ever be able to swallow? Someone needs to call Mark Chaplin before I die!” She dropped dramatically beside her sister on the couch as everyone roared with laughter. “Mark’s his doctor and one of his best mates,” she added for Donna’s benefit. 

“What possessed you to eat two at once?” inquired Donna in a hoarse voice. She batted her eyelashes at Benedict. “Certainly you saw the little red chili pepper on the wrapper, _Honey_?” 

_Ah, she’s just used the sarcastic version of Honey. I don’t care much for the sound of that. I want her to call me Ben Honey._

“Because the dolt obviously didn’t bother to look at the wrapper and didn’t know they had hot pepper in them!” guffawed Heather. “Just like you did!” 

Donna looked up at Benedict, who was rubbing his thigh vigorously. “You just got done telling me how obvious that little red pepper was,” she commented drily. “Apparently, that wasn’t the case with you, either.” 

“Touché,” muttered a red-faced Benedict. 

“Then he said: My career will be finished! I won’t be able to use my tongue!” laughed Jennifer uproariously as she imitated Benedict. “What _ever_ will I do for a living?” 

“Lucky for me that your tongue made a full recovery,” quipped Donna in a low voice, causing Benedict to blush furiously. _Dad would have told him: Now you can focus on getting a real job._

Emily nudged her sister in the ribs. “And then Grandpa said: Piss off, Benedict and…” 

“Here we are! Who’s up for a Pimms Cup?” asked Timothy pleasantly as he set a tray with a drinks pitcher and tall glasses filled with fruit on a table next to one of the armchairs. “I’ll be mother.” 

“I’m so sorry about the truffles, Donna!” exclaimed Wanda from behind Timothy. “Didn’t you notice the red chili pepper on the wrapper?” 

_Why do they have to keep harping on that? No. They smelled so good that I didn’t even bother looking at the wrapper closely. I will never make that mistake again._

Donna’s face reddened. “They smelled so good that I was anxious to get it into my mouth,” she said, making a feeble attempt to laugh it off. 

“Always the anxious one to put things in your mouth,” Benedict whispered playfully into her ear. “You’re such a greedy girl when it comes to chocolate…and me. At least you know it’s safe to put my dick in your gorgeous mouth.” 

Donna felt her face redden further and flashed an angry look at him before returning her attention to Wanda. 

“For what’s it worth. They were very tasty, Wanda.” 

Donna noticed that Tracy was also studying her. She appeared to be in her fifties, and strongly resembled Wanda, only shorter and of average weight. Derrick was tall and of average weight with predominantly gray hair and a goatee. His brown eyes sparkled with good humor as he gave Donna a warm smile. 

_Wanda’s daughter looks so much like her! They even have the same hairstyle._

“Aren’t you going to introduce us, Ben?” asked Tracy pointedly. 

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah. I…erm…got distracted. Donna, this is my sister, Tracy Peacock and her husband, Derrick.” He next indicated Emily and Jennifer in turn. “These are their daughters, Emily and Jennifer…and this…,” he continued indicating Heather, “…is…” 

Heather held up a small hand to silence Benedict. “Heather McPherson! It’s okay, Benedict, I wouldn’t expect you to remember my last name in a million years.” 

_And Benedict is not happy she’s here,_ thought Donna. _I can tell by the pinched expression on his face. He looks like he’s constipated._

“Everyone, this is my girlfriend, Donna Saint James,” said Benedict with a huge smile. “I’m sure you’ll recognize her name from the Tasty Travels column she writes every Sunday for the London Tribune,” he added with pride. 

“It is so nice to finally meet you all,” said Donna with a gracious smile. 

_Ooooo…I think I know where I’ve seen her!_ Thought Emily. 

“We met the night Emmy fixed me up with Benedict at James Rhodes concert. Don’t you remember me?” Asked Heather with a huge smile on her cute face. 

“Now, I do. You’re wearing your hair different,” said Donna. “How could I forget that night?” She shot Benedict a sideways glance. “It’s wonderful to see you again.” 

_No, it’s not_ , thought Benedict. _Who knows what fuckery Heather will come out with over lunch. I think I need a drink._

“Well, I don’t know about anyone else, but I fancy a drink,” said Benedict. 

Everyone expressed their agreement with nods and excited exclamations. 

“I trust you used your usual recipe, Dad?” Benedict asked with a wink. 

Timothy Carlton smiled slyly at his son. “But of course!” 

Benedict chucked to himself. _Which translates into he used the entire bottle of Pimms. Brilliant!_

 

**********************************************************************************************************************

  

Donna Saint James was relieved that she found herself feeling very comfortable in the presence of the Cumberbatch clan. Once the truffle incident had passed, everyone had been very welcoming and friendly to her, putting her at ease. The conversation flowed at a rapid-fire pace, and it took Donna some getting used to. Tracy had briefly excused herself to load the wet laundry into the dryer after explaining about the blackout in Emily and Heather’s dorm. Then Wanda had headed back into the kitchen to check on the roast. Emily and Heather had retreated to the computer to work on their paper, while Jennifer remained on the couch listening to the conversation between Derrick and Timothy about Derrick’s work as Timothy served the drinks. 

“Here you go,” Timothy said, passing two glasses of Pimms cup to Benedict. “This will be unlike any Pimms cup you’ve had in London, Donna!” he announced proudly. “The mint is from my rooftop herb garden.” 

“I’m looking forward to tasting this!” exclaimed Donna. “Benedict holds your mixologist capabilities in high regard.” 

“Tim makes the best drinks in London,” said Wanda, joining them. “No one could ever accuse him of skimping on the booze either.” 

“Which, after all, is the best part of any drink!” laughed Derrick merrily. 

“Amen to that!” Agreed Tracy. “These look brilliant as usual!” 

Benedict handed Donna one of the glasses and whispered into her ear. 

“Be careful. Dad’s drinks pack quite a punch. You don’t want to get pissed.” 

Donna nodded and studied her drink. The glass contained all kinds of fresh fruit. There were slices of strawberries, orange, apple, lemon and cucumber in addition to the fresh mint leaves. 

“What an impressive presentation! I’ve never had strawberries in a Pimms Cup before.”   

“The Tate Modern puts them in their version, which I thought added a nice touch of sweetness; so I nicked their idea and added them to mine,” said Timothy with a jolly laugh. 

“Bartenders tend to pack the glasses with too much ice, too. I’m glad you don’t.” 

“I consider that sacrilege!” laughed Timothy heartily. “Ice only serves to dilute the liquor. Let me assure you, Donna, that you’ll never be served a drink with too much ice in this house. I believe in chilling all the ingredients thoroughly and making good use of my cocktail shaker and strainer whenever possible.” 

Donna smiled at Timothy as he raised his glass towards her. 

“Well, then, I’d like to make a toast to Donna: Welcome to our home and may this be the first of many visits to come! Cheers!” 

“Cheers!” echoed everyone in unison. 

Donna took a small sip of the drink. It had a refreshing fruity flavor, followed by a strong alcohol burn that made her eyes water. Donna began to sputter and cough. 

_Holy cow! He wasn’t kidding – I don’t think I’ve ever had such a potent drink in my life! It’s predominantly Pimms#1.  
_

“Alright, Love?” Benedict asked innocently, patting her back gently. He leaned over, scooped up some crab dip on a cracker and fed it to Donna. 

_Did he just give me the hot crab dip?_ Thought Donna as she felt the burn on her tongue. _Oh, yes, he did! Good thing I don’t have to do a review until the end of the week, so my palate has time to recuperate.  
_

“It’s delicious,” said Donna hoarsely, popping a cheese chunk into her mouth. “And very refreshing on a hot day.” 

“Fancy some water, Donna?” asked Wanda with concern. “Or more milk?” 

Donna shook her head. “No. I’m fine. It’s just a bit stronger than what I’m used to.” 

_Holy shit, does this drink pack a wallop or what???? I think I’ll eat the fruit out of it and take tiny sips. I definitely won’t finish it._

“The more you hang around with this group, the sooner you’ll develop a tolerance for Tim’s strong drinks,” laughed Derrick. “It took me the better part of a year to be able to drink a whole cocktail here.” 

_I bet it did,_ thought Donna _. Look at them – they’re drinking them like its water! No wonder Benedict never seems to get drunk. He grew up drinking this potent stuff.  
_

“No one has ever accused me of being stingy with the liquor,” chuckled Timothy. “Ever.” 

“We can’t tell you how over-the-moon Tim and I are that you and Benedict are in a relationship, Donna,” began Wanda. 

“I bet it was quite the relief,” quipped Heather coming over to fill a napkin with cheese chunks for her and Emily. “She had just about given up on him.” 

Benedict looked horrified. _Oh, God. Please let us not take another trip down Memory Lane at my expense._

“My wife can be rather impatient when it comes to these things,” said Timothy sipping his drink. 

“Do you remember the time you said Mrs. Cumberbatch was going to place an ad for a wife for him?” giggled Heather. 

Benedict frowned. _Yes, I do. I thought it was strange at the time and still do._

 _Wait a minute. What are they talking about?_ Thought Donna. _Not only do Wanda and Tim look panicked, but so does Tracy. Does she know about the Plan? I thought the Plan was top secret. Then what is Heather referring to?  
_

Benedict noticed that his parents and sister suddenly looked very anxious, and he felt Donna pull away from his side and sit up straight beside him. 

_Look at their faces. Something’s not right. Why is Donna suddenly sitting so stiffly? She’s obviously intrigued by their comments and behaviour.  
_

Timothy and Wanda exchanged nervous glances. 

_Damn that Heather! Always coming out with something she’s not supposed to,_ thought Wanda _. However, she doesn’t have any idea what the back story is, so how can I fault her?_

Wanda widened her ice blue eyes at her husband _.  
_

_Act, Timothy! Act!  
_

_The curtain rises on Timothy’s Drunken Mouth Filter Malfunction: Part Two,_ thought Timothy, immediately sensing what his wife wanted him to do _._

“I can’t say that I do,” replied Timothy with a frown. 

“Oh, it was _nothing_ , really,” chimed in Tracy a bit too quickly. 

“Actually, I think I do remember something about imbibing quite a heroic quantity of Tia Maria followed by a call for the ice bucket,” Timothy chuckled. “Not one of my finer moments,” he said as an aside to Donna. 

Emily had nonchalantly trailed after Heather to listen to the conversation. 

“I remember Gran and Uncle Ben having a tug of war with Grandpa in the middle!” 

“I missed that,” lamented Jennifer. “I bet it was funny!” 

“I told you what happened, Jenn. Grandpa was so off his face that he was saying all kinds of crazy things, so Uncle Ben and Gran were trying to get him to bed. Grandpa wound up on the floor when he yelled at them to stop!” explained Emily. “Do you remember sliding off the chair onto the floor when they let go?” she asked Timothy. 

_Vividly. Then I puked in Wanda’s crystal ice bucket afterwards._

_Gosh, they certainly have interesting dinners_ , thought Donna. _Let the liquor flow and the good times roll in this house! So Timothy got drunk and inadvertently spilled the beans. Luckily it seems like Wanda managed to cover it up. I really do have a feeling that Tracy is involved somehow.  
_

Timothy managed to give Emily a sheepish look as he shook his head and shrugged. “I honestly can’t say that I do, Emmy. My mind’s a complete blank.” 

“Of course you can’t remember! You were off your face at the time!” scoffed Derrick with a wave of his hand. “Therefore, you can hardly be held responsible for your words.” 

_Derrick will get an extra nice Christmas gift this year, bless him,_ thought Wanda. 

“Oh, I don’t know about that, Mr. Peacock,” countered Heather. “My mum always says that booze acts like truth serum.” 

“I never heard such nonsense, Heather!” Barked Tracy. 

Benedict sipped his drink as he studied his sister over the rim of the glass. 

_My sister protests a bit too enthusiastically. She seems very eager to shut Heather up. Not that I mind, but this conversation just keeps getting more interesting._

“It’s true, Mrs. Peacock. Whenever my dad has one too many, he always come out with things that he’s been keeping from my mum.” 

“Well, I can assure you, Heather, that I have no secrets to keep from my wife,” assured Timothy with a smile. 

_Just from my son, and I have plenty of those under my belt.  
_

“Oh, that’s so sweet,” commented Donna. “My parents are like that, too.” 

_Your parents are right wankers,_ thought Benedict glumly _. Don’t compare them to mine, Darling._

“Wanda and I stick together through thick and thin. We are truly partners and share in everything,” continued Timothy. 

_Yes, we’re partners in crime, as you well know, Donna,_ thought Wanda _. And you’re right in the thick of it with us._

“So why were you and Uncle Ben playing tug of war over Grandpa in the first place?” asked Jennifer. “No one ever told me that part.” 

_I need to shut this down,_ thought Wanda _. Benedict’s undoubtedly analyzing every word and nuance of expression. I can tell by how his eyes are darting from one to the other.  
_

“It was a simple misunderstanding,” said Wanda with a dismissive wave of her hand. “And it was so trivial that I don’t even remember.” 

“I do,” retorted Benedict. 

Two pairs of ice blue eyes met and locked. 

_Of course he does, bless him. I should have seen that coming before I opened my mouth,_ thought Wanda with disgust. 

“And I would hardly call harassing me about finding a _suitable bird_ ‘trivial’, _Mother_.” 

“It was the usual row about Uncle Ben not being able to find a nice girl to settle down with,” explained Emily offhandedly to Donna. “It’s been going on ever since he and Olivia broke up.” 

“Oh, _that_ row,” giggled Jennifer. “The poor-Benedict-can’t-find-a-bird row.” 

_Ah ha! This is what sets Benedict off. I think I can sympathize now after seeing them in action,_ thought Donna. 

“You should have heard the squabbles that went on, Donna,” chimed in Heather. “I wasn’t present for all of them, but Emmy would come back to the residence hall and tell me all about them!” 

Donna glanced at Benedict, who squirmed a bit and sighed. She patted his knee. 

_They’re making Benedict very uncomfortable with their teasing and story-telling. I need to try and put a stop to this!_

“Well, no one has to worry about that happening anymore,” said Donna with a smile, taking Benedict’s free hand in hers and squeezing it. “Right, Benedict?” 

Benedict smiled gratefully at Donna. “Yes. No more worries.” 

“Emily Peacock! Shame on you for airing the dirty family laundry!” scolded Wanda. “I’m sure Donna’s not interested in our rows.” 

_Besides she already knows the back story, so this shouldn’t come as a complete surprise to her._

“You’ll have to forgive my mother, Donna. She’s always been a frustrated matchmaker at heart,” laughed Tracy. 

“That’s putting it kindly,” muttered Benedict under his breath. 

“And unfortunately her enthusiasm for seeing her children happily married has sometimes caused …” 

“A hell of a lot of aggravation,” finished Benedict curtly. 

“I was going to say unfortunate misinterpretations of motives,” interjected Tracy. 

Wanda smiled to herself.   _Oh, I like that, Tracy!_ _This warrants_ _an extra special Christmas gift for you, too.  
_

“I prefer to describe it as friction,” countered Benedict, glowering at Tracy _._

“You once told me it was like someone constantly poking at a festering wound with a hot fireplace iron,” added Emily with a snort. 

“I think you sounded just like a barrister, Mum!” chortled Jennifer. 

_Unfortunate misinterpretations of motives? Holy cow! That reminds me of something my mother would say when trying to make the truth sound more palatable,_ thought Donna _. Tracy must know what’s going on. I can’t believe she’s in the dark. I’ll call Wanda tomorrow and ask her.  
_

“I thought she sounded more like Benedict,” observed Heather. “Always using big words so no one has any idea what he’s really talking about. Do you _actually know_ what you’re saying most of the time?” she asked Benedict with a smirk. “Sometimes I wonder…” 

_She really needs to go back to the residence hall. Why in the hell can’t they make their repairs faster?_

“Don’t you have a paper to do?” asked Benedict impatiently. 

"Yes, they do," replied Tracy, looking at Emily and Heather meaningfully.  "I'm sure you can get some of it done before lunch is served.  Off you go then before I draft you both to help in the kitchen!" she said making a shooing motion with her hands.

“I think it best that I get our starters ready,” said Wanda getting to her feet. 

“Can I help you?” offered Donna. 

“Thank you for the offer, Love; but I’ve got everything under control,” replied Wanda. “I’ve made your favorite, French Onion Soup.” 

Benedict sipped his drink as he closely studied his mother.   

_How did Mum know that Donna’s favorite soup is French Onion? I never told her that, and she hasn’t been in Donna’s company long enough for them to discuss that. And did Mum just call Donna ‘Love’?   It took years before she called Olivia that, and she never called Anna that. She barely knows Donna, yet she seems quite comfortable and taken with her._

As Wanda made her way to the kitchen, she heard the sound of pleasant conversation behind her and smiled to herself that all was going fairly well. 

_That was a close call, but Tracy saved the day, bless her. Donna seems to have relaxed, and Barrister Ben seems to be dormant for the time being. Now, I can relax and enjoy a nice Sunday lunch with my family.  
_

However, Wanda Ventham was wrong, for all hell was about to break loose.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Apologies for any inconsistencies in continuity and/or timelines.
> 
> 2\. Again, Jennifer was already added to the story when I found out Tracy only has one daughter.
> 
> 3\. I have no idea what Tracy’s real life husband’s name is, so I’ve named him Derrick. 
> 
> 4\. My daughter and I had the Pimms Cup described in the story at the Tate Modern, and they were yummy! The bartender made them special for us.


	81. Chapter 81

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 4 of Sunday lunch with the Cumberbatches. Wanda receives unwanted help. Donna finds herself embroiled in a tense game of cat and mouse with Barrister Ben. Benedict’s gets the answer he didn’t want, as Donna makes a startling discovery. 
> 
> Note: I’ll be using ****** to indicate things happening at the same time.

_  
_

Donna Saint James was thankful that the tension that had filled the lounge had finally dissipated. Emily and Heather had suspended work on their papers in order to sit alongside her on the couch, munching on the various snacks. Jennifer perched on the arm of the chair her father was sitting on, and Tracy was sitting on one of the dining room chairs. Derrick was regaling everyone with an amusing story of what had transpired on his flight from Athens to London earlier in the week. Benedict draped an arm around Donna’s shoulders as he sipped his drink. 

“Sorry for the…almost row,” he said softly. 

“There’s nothing to apologize for, Benedict. These things happen in families all the time,” replied Donna, patting his hand reassuringly. 

“I’m glad you understand. I was concerned they were going to scare you away,” he said. 

“Oh, it would take an awful lot to scare me away,” giggled Donna as she crossed her legs. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.” 

“So, am I wearing pants or not?” Benedict whispered in her ear. 

“The jury’s still out on that one.” 

Donna noticed that Timothy was openly staring at her foot as he crouched down to take a toast made from pumpernickle bread. 

“By the way, how is your ankle, Donna?” asked Timothy, as he scooped some crab dip onto the toast. “I see you’ve taken the bandage off.” 

 

*********************************************

  

Wanda Ventham pulled the large baking sheet containing the soup crocks out of the oven and placed it on a wire rack to cool down. The generous topping of aged Gruyere cheese was perfectly golden brown and bubbling. The scent of beef, onions and nutty cheese filled her nostrils. It had taken Wanda an hour to slowly caramelize the onions in butter in order to get the level of sweetness she desired. The day before she had spent four hours on making the rich beef broth. She had painstakingly roasted some bones along with the meat in order to extract ever bit of flavour and had added just enough of a very expensive red wine. When Wanda tasted the soup before adding the cheese to the perfectly-toasted croutons, she found that the seasoning was just right. 

Pleased with the results, Wanda stood back to admire her starters. 

_Now, these are a work of art if I must say so myself! They should be on a bloody magazine cover. Donna can’t possibly find fault with this soup! The stock came out exactly how I wanted it to. The Gruyere is melted through and attractively dripping down the sides of the crocks. They just need to cool down a bit before I serve. I certainly wouldn’t want anyone to burn their mouths, especially Donna._

Wanda hummed happily to herself as she returned to the lounge just in time to hear her husband’s voice. 

“By the way, how is your ankle, Donna? I see you’ve taken the bandage off.” 

 

*****************************************************

_  
_

Benedict Cumberbatch paused, Stilton and apricot cheese chunk in midair, when his father inquired about the state of Donna’s ankle. He looked down at Donna, who audibly gulped beside him, as she let the cracker she had been eating slip through her fingers and onto the rug. 

_There’s only one way Dad could have possibly known about Donna’s ankle._

_He saw her at the Blackberry Bramble Inn.  
_

Benedict raised an eyebrow at Donna, whose face was rapidly reddening as she retrieved the fallen cracker. 

“I thought you didn’t leave the room?” 

 

*****************************************************

_  
_

Timothy Carlton realized his fatal error as soon as the words left his mouth. 

_I will never again question where Benedict gets the mouth filter malfunctions from. It’s me. I just cocked up everything. Look at his face! Ladies and Gentlemen, Barrister Ben will now join the party.  
_

Donna’s face wore an expression of pure panic as Benedict’s eyes bore into her. He sat, staring at her with a raised eyebrow, as he waited for her to answer his question. _  
_

_SHIT! Look at the way he keeps staring at poor Donna. He realizes that I saw her at the Blackberry Bramble when she was wearing that elastic bandage.  
_

*****************************************************

 Wanda Ventham stopped in her tracks at her husband’s words. 

_NOOOOOOOOO! For fucks sake, Tim! What did you just say?? Look at Benedict’s face. He realizes something is wrong. I couldn’t hear what he said to Donna, but he doesn’t look happy. I hope she’s clever enough to draw upon all that acting experience she doesn’t have to throw Barrister Ben off the scent.  
_

_**********************************************_

 

Tracy Peacock looked up from the perfect bite of Costswold cheddar and sesame cracker that she had planned to place in her mouth when Timothy inquired after Donna’s ankle. 

_How in the heck would Tim know there was something wrong with Donna’s ankle, unless they’ve been in each other’s company recently. Mum told me they only met once briefly at a café. I think my suspicions are correct. Mum and Tim both know Donna Saint James, and I’m willing to bet that she’s one of those girls they interviewed. I need to get Mum alone so we can talk.  
_

**********************************************************

  

Donna Saint James felt as if she would throw up as Benedict’s ice blue eyes remained riveted to her. She looked under her eyelashes and saw the alarm in Timothy’s eyes. Wanda had been walking over to join them and was now frozen in her tracks. 

_FUCK! I can’t believe he said that! What am I going to do now? Benedict thinks I broke my promise to him not to leave the room, which I did. He’ll never trust me again…not that I’m giving him any reason to. Those girls are all watching me as if they’re waiting for a performance to begin. Heather’s got that smug I-know-you-are-hiding-something look on her face. Ben’s sister also looks very curious._

 

*************************************************************

  

Wanda stood glued to the spot as both Benedict and Tracy turned their gazes towards her. She felt as if everything was going in slow motion. 

They know. They both know. I’m fucked to hell and back. I wish Donna wouldn’t just sit there like a great stone monument. She looks like she wants to bolt. This is a taste of what life will be like with Benedict, so she’d better get used to dealing with him. 

“Mum, I think it’s time we got the starter on the table,” said Tracy nonchalantly. “Let me help you.” 

Oh, no you don’t. You want to get me in the kitchen alone. 

Wanda turned on her heel. “I can handle it fine, thanks, Love,” she said in a dismissive tone. 

“Wait, Mum,” commanded Benedict’s deep baritone from behind her. 

Hells bells! It’s my turn to be put on the witness stand. 

Wanda Ventham felt as if she were about to be sick. 

 

****************************************************

  

“You haven’t answered my question, Donna,” pressed Benedict while keeping his eyes on his mother. 

Donna watched as Wanda spurned the offer of her daughter’s help in the kitchen and quickly turned to leave the room. 

“Wait, Mum,” commanded Benedict. “Please sit and relax so you can get to know Donna better. You’ve been flitting around like a butterfly ever since she got here. Emmy, why don’t you take Jenn and Heather to the kitchen and bring the starters to the table so Gran can relax yes?” 

Wanda slowly turned around and took the seat vacated by Emily beside Donna. She leaned close to Donna. 

“This is one right mess,” she breathed softly under her breath to Donna. 

Wanda glanced briefly over at her husband, whose hazel eyes were downcast. 

_I wonder what he’s thinking right now? Probably: You’re on your own, Commander!  
_

Donna tried to buy some time by taking another sip of her drink and eating a slice of apple. She could feel Benedict’s eyes still on her. 

_Think, Donna! You need to somehow make this right! OH! Wait! I know exactly what to say. I’ll follow Mom’s advice: Take something from real life and embellish it. I’ll just change around the time line a bit. I can do this. I wasn’t in the Drama Club for nothing – I need to make Mr. Hawkins proud. I hope Timothy is as good an actor as Benedict says he is and follows my lead._

Donna looked Benedict in the eye and attempted to look embarrassed. 

“Well, if you must know – and it seems you must – I ran out of tampons and had to go out and buy some at the local druggist. The inn doesn’t just stock them behind the reception desk, you know.”

 Benedict did a double take. “How could you possibly run out?” he scoffed. “You’ve got extras of the extras stashed away in that handbag of yours.” 

“Well, this time I didn’t have enough. Mother Nature came calling early, remember?” 

_What you don’t need to know is that I actually went to buy them after your parents had left the inn. Mother Nature also came right on time, I had the dates wrong, but you don’t need to know that either._

  

******************************************************

 

 The three girls entered the kitchen and exchanged disappointed looks. 

“I hate it when they send us to the kitchen,” complained Jennifer. “That always means something good is about to go down.” 

“Your uncle looks like he’s going to pitch a fit any minute,” said Heather. “I’ve seen that pissy look on his face many times before.” 

“Stand by the archway, Jenn – the opposite side of where Mum was standing before because they won’t be able to see you from there,” instructed Emily. “Let us know what they’re saying. Heather and I will take care of the soup.”

 Heather was studying the crocks of soup with a frown on her face. 

“What’s wrong?” asked Emily. “They smell amazing!” 

“I can’t believe your Gran is going to serve such sloppy-looking soup to a food critic is all.” 

“Gran’s French Onion Soup always looks like that. I love how the cheese on the sides gets all toasty and yummy. Half the fun is picking it off with your fingers!” 

“That’s what I mean,” said Heather. “The cheese running down the sides looks sloppy - don’t you think?” 

Emily scratched her chin and looked thoughtfully at the crocks as she pondered her friend’s words. 

“I suppose you make a point, Heather. Gran wants to impress Donna. How do you suggest we make them more presentable then?” 

“Simple! We’ll get a sharp knife and trim off all the excess.” 

“What if it’s stuck to the sides?” 

“Doesn’t she have soup bowls that go with her china? If the cheese sticks, we’ll simply transfer the soup to the china bowls.” 

“Okay. I’ll get the knives. Jenn, is there anything interesting being said out there?” 

“Not really. Barrister Ben is trying to question Donna, but not doing a very good job of it. Something about how Donna ran out of tampons and met Grandpa in the hallway of an inn is all.”

  

**************************************************  

  

Timothy took a healthy swallow of his drink and intently watched the tense scene between his son and Donna unfolding before him. 

_She’s making an attempt to distract him or come up with some sort of cocked up explanation as to what happened. I can tell by Ben’s face that he’s not buying it so far._

Suddenly, his ears perked up at Donna’s next words:

“Well, after you left the room for filming, I went to shower and noticed that I was almost out of tampons. I couldn’t very well last the day without more, so I got dressed and went to the drug store to buy a box.” 

“Imagine that! You were right across the hall all that time, and I didn’t know it!” cackled Wanda nervously.

  _Jeez Louise! Wanda needs to stay out of this._

Donna leaned against Wanda and tried to inconspicuously elbow her to keep quiet. 

“I’ll handle him,” she hissed in a low voice. 

 

*******************************************************

 

 Benedict bit his lower lip. 

_What the fuck is going on? That’s Mum’s nervous laugh. Did Donna just say something to Mum? I definitely heard her say something, but it was muffled._

 

******************************************************

  

Tracy stared at her mother and Donna Saint James in disbelief. 

_Well, well, well. Look at that! She just elbowed Mum to shut up! Thank God there’s no way Benedict could have seen it from where he’s sitting, but I’m sure he heard whatever it was Donna whispered to Mum._

Benedict’s eyes met his sister’s, causing Tracy to quickly avert hers. 

_Look at the expression on Tracy’s face. She can’t believe she’s hearing this either,_ thought Benedict _._

  

*****************************************************

 

"Anyway, as I was heading towards the stairs, I met your dad in the hallway,” continued Donna Saint James. 

Timothy nodded his head. _Okay. I see where this is going. I’ll play along, Donna. Let’s see how good she is at improvisation._

"That’s right. I had gone down to reception to get the copy of the London Times I had reserved upon arrival. It’s not Sunday unless I have my paper,” he chuckled. 

Donna gave Tim a half-smile and barely nodded at him. 

_Ah, I do think she gets what I’m doing.  
_

_Tim understands what I’m trying to do. Let’s hope he continues to follow my lead._

“We said hello and then he asked me what was wrong because I was hobbling.” 

Benedict’s gaze travelled to his father, who looked much calmer than he felt. 

“Weren’t you curious as to why Donna was there, Dad?” 

_I didn’t need to. I figured out from the get-go that she was there for the sole purpose of you getting laid, which it now seems you didn’t.  
_

_Holy cow! I thought I was the one being questioned! I need to put a stop to this madness,_ thought Donna _._

Donna spoke before Timothy had a chance to open his mouth. 

“For God’s sake, _Honey_! Who can remember word for word what they said over a week ago? Do you _really_ need to know _every_ word that passed between us? ” exclaimed Donna, patting Benedict’s knee a bit harder than she should have.

 Wanda and Timothy tried very hard to contain themselves, as Benedict looked completely taken aback by Donna’s words. He felt himself bristle when Donna addressed him as ‘Honey’. 

“No,” said Benedict petulantly, pressing his lips into a thin line. 

_Yes. I do._

“Of course not,” he added in a sulky tone. 

_I lie like a rug._

 

**********************************************************

  

“What do you think?” asked Emily as she stood back to examine her handy work on the soup bowls. “Better?” 

Heather made one last cut and lay down her knife. She smiled and nodded slowly. 

“Absolutely! I much prefer those little rounds of cheese on the croutons. Now, they look like something you’d get in a restaurant,” replied Heather. “Well done us!” 

“What do you think, Jenn?” Emily asked her sister. 

Jennifer glanced over from her post at the archway. “I think you should have let them be. Half the cheese has gone to waste.” 

Heather burped loudly. “It hasn’t gone to waste. Emmy and I took care of it while we were doing the trimming,” she laughed. 

“You two ate all that cheese then?” 

Emily giggled. “Heather and I skipped breakfast so we were starting to feel peckish. Is there anything new to report from the lounge then?” 

“Not really. They seem to be doing that verbal dueling thing they do that I can never follow. All I know is that Donna made Uncle Ben stropy – she called him ‘Honey’, and he didn’t seem to care for it one bit.” 

Emily pursed her lips. “I guess it depended on the context. I think we’d better get these into the dining room before Mum comes after us.” 

“What’s this?” asked Jenn as she inspected a silver package that was sitting on the kitchen table near where the girls had been working. 

Heather and Emily peered at the package. 

“Oh, those are gourmet sea salts. Donna gave them to Gran as a hostess gift,” replied Emily. 

“They’re also called finishing salts,” added Heather. 

“What are they supposed to finish?” inquired Jenn, opening one of the little bottles. 

“You’re supposed to sprinkle a bit over the food right before serving to enhance the flavour,” replied Heather. “Gordon Ramsay always uses them.” 

“Showing off your new found knowledge yes? You’ve become quite the expert since you started watching all those cooking shows on the telly,” teased Emily. 

“Oh! This one smells just like…something weird...like it came out of the ground…like fungus,” said Jennifer, pulling a disgusted face. 

Emily snatched the bottle from her sister. “It says its black truffle sea salt flakes.” She inhaled deeply. “Yes, it does! Wow! Smell this, Heather.” 

“That’s wicked good! You need to taste a bit, Jenn. It’s really good,” said Heather, taking a pinch. 

Jennifer took a pinch between her fingers and tasted the salt. 

“You know, this _is_ rather tasty. I bet it would go well on top of Gran’s soup.” 

“Now that’s a brilliant idea!” agreed Heather with mounting enthusiasm. “It would complement the onion soup nicely, don’t you think, Emmy?” 

“Maybe that isn’t such a good idea,” frowned Emily. “I have no idea how much you are supposed to use.” 

“The label says ‘a pinch’,” declared Jennifer. “I say we do it!” 

“Wouldn’t Donna be impressed that your Gran used her gift to enhance the taste of her food?” asked Heather. “Donna’s a food critic, so she won’t be easy to impress as is.” 

“Okay. Let’s do it,” said Emily impulsively. 

“I can’t wait to see Gran’s face when she sees how we helped her!” exclaimed Jennifer happily. “Won’t she be surprised?” 

 

 *****************************************************

 

Timothy decided it was his turn to continue with the explanation. 

_Excellent try, Donna, but it will only put him off until he stops pouting. I’ll pick up the story from here. I’ll pretend she was there to do a review and hope she doesn’t correct me._

“We chatted briefly, and Donna told me she was there to review the inn’s restaurant….” 

Very inventive, Tim! You’re pretending that I told you that so you wouldn’t know I was staying with Benedict. The man excels in improvisation! 

_Hmmm…that does make sense. Donna was trying to make Dad think we weren’t together, well done her,_ thought Benedict. 

“…I had noticed that her ankle was bandaged, and she was having a bit of trouble walking on it.” 

_Good, Tim, you’re warming to my story!_ Thought Donna with relief. _My turn to continue the story._

“When your dad found out I was on my way to the drug store, he even offered to go out and pick up whatever I needed; but I refused because it just didn’t seem right to ask a man I barely knew to pick up sanitary products for me. I told him it wasn’t important, but he persisted.” 

“That’s my Tim! Always the helpful one, bless him,” smiled Wanda. 

“And you finally told me what you needed, and I know I must have turned several shades of red,” laughed Timothy. 

“I felt so bad because you looked so uncomfortable,” added Donna. 

“I’m not used to being asked to procure….feminine products,” said Timothy bashfully. “But I was determined that Donna should not further injure her foot, so I soldiered on and went to the chemist for her.” 

Tracy suddenly studied Timothy through narrowed eyes. 

_How many Pimms has he had??? I can recall Tim going out to the chemist to buy me tampons and Mum sanitary towels before she went through the change. He had no problem with it. Perhaps he was embarrassed because Donna was a stranger? Or was she?_

_What fresh hell is this?_ Thought Benedict _. I recall him buying sanitary towels for Mum many times.   I was even with him on a few occasions and kept asking him what they were for, which finally earned me a heart-to-heart talk and hot fudge sundae at Foubert’s.  
_

_Where in the hell was Mum when this was going on?_ Thought Tracy. _  
_

“Why didn’t you just ask Mum to go to the chemist?” inquired Benedict. “That way you would have saved face.” 

_SHIT! Do I want to go through this for the rest of my life?_ Thought Donna. _He just doesn’t give up! No wonder they all fear and dread the appearance of Barrister Ben!_

_My turn_ , thought Wanda, _but I do have an alibi!_

“He couldn’t ask me because I was in the bath. I had no idea this was going on or I would have been happy to go, given how modest your father’s always been about female matters. Honestly, Benedict, you really have earned your nickname this afternoon and then some!” _  
_

“It’s not the sort of thing a gentleman likes to discuss,” mumbled Timothy, looking embarrassed. “So, I saw no need to bring it up.” 

_Oh, they’re good. They’re very, very good actors! Let me end this now, so we can eat,_ thought Donna _._

“Nor did I,” said Donna with finality. “It was such a _trivial_ thing. I needed tampons, and your dad helped me out. End of story. I hope our explanation met with your approval, _Honey_.” 

Timothy and Wanda exchanged relieved glances as they observed the defeated expression on Benedict’s face. Their son sat back and drained his glass. 

_Well done, Donna! You are a credit to your secondary school Drama teacher_ , thought Wanda. 

_Jolly well done!_ thought Timothy. _Donna’s sharp and has proven to me that she’s capable of standing up to Barrister Ben and shutting him down.  
_

_If only Mr. Hawkins could have seen me just now,_ smiled Donna Saint James to herself. _He would have reconsidered and let me play Ophelia in Hamlet._

Suddenly, Benedict set down his empty glass and leaned forward, hands clasped on his knees while he addressed Timothy and Wanda directly. 

“What I still don’t get is how…” 

“The starters are ready!” called Emily from the dining room.

  _Ah, saved by the soup,_ thought Timothy Carlton with great relief as they all eagerly filed into the dining room area. 

 

**********************************************************

  

Wanda Ventham took her customary seat at the foot of the table, while Timothy sat at the head. Everyone else found their respective seats, leaving Benedict and Donna to sharing their side of the table with Emily and Heather. Donna found herself wedged in between Benedict and Heather, just like the night at the Grand Imperial. Emily and Heather sat with barely contained smiles of glee on their faces as they were anxious for everyone to try their ‘improved version’ of Wanda’s soup. 

“We’re starting off with my wife’s famous French Onion Soup,” announced Timothy proudly. “Since it’s your favourite, Donna,” he added. 

“How, pray tell, did you know that?” inquired Benedict as he placed his serviette on his lap. 

Donna looked up in alarm at her boyfriend. 

_Jeez Louise! He’s downright relentless when he gets a bug up his ass.  
_

“Perhaps it’s because she’s written about it in her column many times over?” asked Wanda with a trace of sarcasm. “I thought you would have realized that, Benedict, being you’re a fan of Donna’s column.” 

“Oh, it’s right obvious,” piped up Heather. “Even I knew that just from reading her column.” 

“If there is French Onion Soup on a menu, I must order it,” laughed Donna. 

“Now that the French Onion soup debate has been sorted to everyone’s satisfaction, how about sending Barrister Ben on holiday; so we can enjoy our starter without further inquisition,” said Wanda testily.

“Personally, I don’t know how you stand all his questions,” Heather whispered to Donna. “I’d kill him.” 

_Some days I’m alright with it, and others I want to muzzle him,_ thought Donna. _Today is a muzzle day.  
_

“I think it’s something I’ve gotten used to,” mused Donna. _  
_

Donna picked up the dainty, linen napkin and examined the embroidery before placing it on her lap. 

“The table looks lovely, Wanda! The linens are exquisite. Are they vintage?” 

“They belonged to Tim’s mother,” smiled Wanda. “As a matter of fact, they were once her mother’s.” 

“It’s quite an honor to be entrusted with family heirlooms,” said Donna. 

“So, who gets the linens when you die?” inquired Heather. “I’d think Mrs. Peacock would since she’s your daughter.” 

All eyes turned towards Heather. 

“Heather!” hissed Emily. “That’s not proper lunch table conversation!” 

Wanda looked aghast. “I’m not planning on going anywhere just yet,” she snapped. 

Heather bowed her head. “Please accept my apology Mrs. Cumberbatch.” 

“Apology accepted, Love,” said Wanda. 

Wanda looked across the length of the table to see Timothy cheekily grinning at her. 

_It’s a good thing you’re sitting so far away, you right bastard._

“I hope you live to be a ripe old age, even though you are already pretty old as is…so I don’t know how much longer you could...,” continued Heather. 

Wanda noticed that Timothy’s grin had gotten even wider.  

"As do I, Pet!" agreed Timothy, raising his wineglass to her. "May you continue to ripen like a fine, aged Stilton."

_Just you wait until they all go home and you’re stuck here with me, Timothy Cumberbatch._

“Heather! Shut the fuck up and have a roll why don’t you,” snapped Benedict, passing a basket of brioche rolls directly in front of Donna to her. 

“Let’s tuck in before the soup gets cold,” encouraged Tracy. She picked up her spoon and frowned at her bowl. 

_What the fuck? This doesn’t look like Mum’s soup! What happened to all the cheese?_

Donna studied the crock of soup before her. 

_Hmmm…it looks like Wanda cut disks of cheese to place on the croutons, which have now sunk to the bottom of the crock. Doesn’t she realize you need to have a bit of overhang to act as a lid so the cheese doesn’t sink?  
_

Benedict looked into his crock and then up at his mother, who was also frowning at the contents of hers. 

_This doesn’t look like Mum’s soup. There’s no cheese lid on top._ Benedict carefully poked at the contents with his spoon. _Oh, there it is at the bottom.  
_

Wanda glared at Emily and Heather knowingly. 

_The little lovelies mucked with my soup. They were only charged with taking it to the fucking table_. 

“What happened to all the cheese?” Derrick whispered to Tracy, who suddenly realized what transpired in the kitchen. 

“It’s at the bloody bottom of the crock. Just eat it and don’t make a fuss!” she whispered back. 

_They trimmed all the cheese off Mum’s soup crocks! What in the hell possessed them to do that???  
_

Donna glanced around the table at the baffled faces surrounding her. 

_There’s something wrong with the soup. I can see it in their faces. I wonder what?  
_

Emily elbowed Heather. “The croutons sunk to the bottom!” she whispered urgently. 

“Shit! There’s nothing we can do now but eat it,” Heather whispered back. She dug in with great enthusiasm and ate a spoonful. She looked as if she would swoon. 

“Oh, this is _delicious_ , Mrs. Cumberbatch. Do I detect a hint of black truffle?” 

Wanda looked at Heather as if she had grown two heads, and quickly took a taste of her soup. It indeed tasted as if there was black truffle in it. 

_Hells bells! One of them must have used Donna’s finishing salts on top. It’s actually quite tasty. It’s also a damn good thing I didn’t add more salt like I had intended. Had I not been distracted, there would have been a problem.  
_

“I didn’t know you were going to change up your recipe, Mum,” said Benedict. “It’s quite lovely with the black truffle.” 

Tracy took a second spoonful. “What a clever use of black truffle, Mum.” 

“It really is good,” said Emily in an amazed tone of voice. “Surprisingly good.” 

“This is sheer genius, Pet,” said Timothy with a smile. “It’s a nice change.” 

“You’re an inspiration to us all, Mrs. Cumberbatch,” added Heather. 

“Shush! You’re laying it on too thick,” hissed Emily. 

“Mmmm…just lovely,” said Derrick, smacking his lips. “This reminds me of deep dish pizza that they serve in Chicago. All the cheese is on the bottom and the other ingredients cover it. Remember when we had it Tracy?” 

Tracy nodded. “Yes, I do remember it.” 

“It’s Deep Dish French Onion Soup,” giggled Jennifer. 

“Thank you again for leaving out the black pepper, Wanda,” said Derrick. “My system can’t tolerate very spicy food,” he said as an aside to Donna. “So I hope you won’t hold it against my mother-in-law for under spicing her food.” 

“She uses white pepper instead,” snickered Benedict to Donna under his breath. “He eats it all the time, and nothing has bothered him yet.” 

Donna plunged in her spoon and tried some of soup, making sure to get the perfect bite of broth, onions and cheesy crouton. She nodded to herself as she savored the rich beefy concoction. 

_This is delicious - I taste black truffle. I bet she sprinkled some of my finishing salt over the top.  
_

Suddenly, Donna was aware that all eyes at the table were on her in an attempt to gauge her reaction. Benedict was looking down at her with a raised eyebrow. Wanda looked very tense and was sitting stoically with her hands folded primly on the table. 

_Holy cow! They’re waiting for me to render my verdict. They want to hear my opinion. Jeez Louise! I don’t want to do reviews on my days off. It’s bad enough I automatically go into critic mode every time I eat, but they are expecting me to say something. Are they always going to do this when we have meals together?  
_

“How’s your soup?” asked Benedict. _  
_

_Okay. That’s my cue to do a review of Wanda’s soup._

“Delicious!” proclaimed Donna with a smile at Wanda. “It really was inspired to make the addition of black truffle to the broth, which happens to be one of the best beef broths I’ve ever had the pleasure of tasting.” 

Benedict audibly sighed with relief beside her as she continued speaking to a clearly excited Wanda. 

“I can tell that you roasted beef bones – it adds an unmistakable richness and depth of flavor you can only achieve by roasting bones. How long did you take to cook down the onions?” 

“I feel it takes an hour to properly caramelize them,” replied Wanda. “Patience is a virtue when rendering onions.” 

_A trait my wife should practice in all aspects of her life,_ mused Timothy. _Had she been patient and let Benedict sort out his own love life, we wouldn’t be in the pickle we’re in. However, I did hop on the bandwagon.  
_

“How true,” agreed Donna. “You can’t get the sweetness any other way – unless you sprinkle them with a bit of sugar to encourage quicker caramelization; but I prefer to let them brown naturally. I’m pleased to taste that you used butter rather than oil. Everyone is afraid of using butter these days, but you just can’t duplicate it’s flavor or richness in a dish. The sherry is a nice addition and complements the nuttiness of the aged Gruyere. I have to say it’s a refreshing spin on an old classic.” 

Wanda found herself blushing and bursting with pride. “Thank you, Love. I’m so chuffed you like it.” 

_Just wait until I next have Judi, Diana and Una over for lunch!_ Thought Wanda. _I’m going to rub it in that my food was worthy of Donna Saint James of Tasty Travels!_

“That sounded just like one of your reviews, Darling,” declared Benedict. 

“Wow, Gran! Now you can say you got a good review from Donna Saint James!” exclaimed Jennifer. 

Tracy smiled at Wanda. “Too bad we didn’t have it in writing. You could have added it to that scrapbook you keep of your acting reviews.” 

_Scrapbook. That reminds me. I need to go to my room and look at my old scrapbook_ , thought Benedict. 

“Mum and I were reading your column this morning,” said Tracy. “That must have been a terrible restaurant.” 

“It was. One of the worst meals I’ve ever tasted. It was an interesting idea that was poorly executed.” 

“You wrote that the chef should have been executed for serving that swill to poor, unsuspecting diners,” guffawed Heather. “I loved that line!” 

_That sounded very much like something her dear father would have written,_ thought Benedict. 

“Well, if you’ll excuse me for a moment,” said Benedict getting to his feet. 

“Ben, why don’t you give Donna a tour of the flat while we ready the main,” suggested Wanda. 

 

********************************************************

  

“There isn’t all that much to see,” began Benedict as he led Donna down the picture-lined hallway. 

“I think this should be renamed ‘The Benedict Cumberbatch Gallery’. I can’t believe all the photos they have of you,” teased Donna. 

“I know,” said Benedict, face reddening. “Tracy always says she became the forgotten child once I was born.”

“That’s not true! I see her in a lot of these pictures. I never think of you as having a sibling because you don’t really talk about her.” 

“That’s because we’re not really _that_ close. I mean I love her and all, but she’s almost more like an aunt than a half-sister. I’m a lot closer to Emmy and Jenn as I used to mind them. I suppose the age gap and the fact that Tracy moved out when I was a year old to go to art school accounts for it. I only saw her on weekends and holidays. Once she took up with Derrick, it was even less. Then I went off to boarding schools – Brambletye and Harrow….then Uni in Manchester.” 

Benedict pushed open the first door on the left. “The master bedroom - where I was conceived,” he joked. 

Donna peeked inside to see Wanda and Timothy’s bedroom. There was a queen-sized bed and old-fashioned furniture to match the style in the living room. Again, there were books, photos and knickknacks galore. 

“Does your mom do her own cleaning? It must take her hours to dust everything!” 

“Nope. Kirsten comes in once a week to tidy up and do the heavy cleaning for Mum. She’s been with us ever since I can remember.” 

The room across the hall led to a girl’s bedroom. It was done in shades of pink and lavender. There was a twin-sized trundle bed. The furniture was white with floral carvings on the headboard of the bed. 

“What a pretty room!” exclaimed Donna. 

“Tracy’s old room,” said Benedict. “Lovingly preserved so as to accommodate Emily and Jenn’s sleepovers.” 

The door to the room next to Tracy’s stood open. It was decidedly masculine, decorated in dark wood with red and blue being the predominant colours. The occupant had been in high school or college Donna judged from the books and various knick knacks and posters on the walls. 

“And this is my old room,” announced Benedict indicating that Donna should enter. “Also lovingly preserved for the time when our children will be sleeping over.” 

Donna looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. “I don’t recall our having any children. Is there something I don’t know about?” 

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck. “I mean…when…if we have children…well, I hope to heaven we do…I want to very much…with you one day...you know that. If that were to happen, there would be times when we’d need a sitter and who better than my parents?” 

“I do think Wanda and Tim already are splendid grandparents. I can see how close they both are to Tracy’s daughters and the girls clearly adore them as well.” 

“Yes. This is the primary reason Mum’s so determined to marry me off. She’s decided my mission in life, besides winning an Oscar one day, is to give Dad his first Cumberbatch grandchild as soon as possible. She’s convinced that their biological clocks are running down.” 

“I can understand that. I felt rather sad when they were telling me their reasons.” 

“When did they tell you that?” 

_Over breakfast at the Blackberry Bramble Inn. Shit. I’ve been busted. I need to distract him. Oh, wait! I can once again draw from real life. He told me himself!_

“Hahaha! I meant when _you_ told me. Don’t you remember?” 

“No. I don’t. When did I tell you that?” 

“When you were in the midst of claiming one of your rain checks that you’re so fond of.” 

Benedict cocked an eye brow at her. “I say many things in the heat of passion, but talking about my parents isn’t one of them.” 

“It was right afterwards. We were cuddling, and you were talking about being…what’s that expression you always use meaning to procreate?” 

“Broody.” 

“That’s it! You were telling me how broody you were feeling and how much you wanted for us to make a baby.” 

_Christ! I never can remember what I’m babbling about when I’m in my post orgasmic haze.  
_

_He really doesn’t remember that conversation, which was all true. He really did speak about his parents getting on in years and yearning for grandchildren.  
_

Benedict sighed with annoyance. “I’m such an emotional, soppy twat at times.” 

“I think you’re romantic and a dreamer; and there’s nothing wrong with that. Now, kiss me please.” 

Donna angled her face up towards him as he leaned down to kiss her deeply. Benedict leaned his forehead against hers as they broke the kiss. 

“I love you, Donna; and I really can’t wait for the time to come for us to make a baby together. Forgive me if I’m being too forward, but I can’t help how I feel.” 

“I’ll let you in on a little secret,” whispered Donna Saint James. “I’m also looking forward to that day.” 

 

*****************************************************

 

 Derrick Peacock removed the heavy roasting pan from the oven and set it on a cooling rack. Tracy quickly covered it with a tent of tin foil. 

“How long does it need to rest, Mum?” she asked. 

“Half an hour. That will give Benedict time to give Donna a tour of the flat while we get everything plated.” 

“A tour of the flat should only take ten minutes at most,” scoffed Tracy. “Including the rooftop garden.” 

“Not if you’re Benedict,” countered Timothy, as he sharpened his carving knife. “It can definitely take up to an hour. We will most assuredly have to fetch them.” 

“I bet they’re going to snog in Uncle Ben’s bedroom,” giggled Jennifer. “He keeps looking her up and down like he wants to pounce on her.” 

“I’m going to take the cauliflower cheese out of the oven,” said Tracy.

“Tim, if you could please get down the serving platters, I’ll start on the gravy.” 

“I want to do the gravy,” countered Wanda. “How about you mash the potatoes yes? Make sure there are no lumps. Donna detests lumpy mashed potatoes.” 

“Pity. The lumps are the best part,” lamented Timothy. 

Tracy retrieved the butter and cream from the refrigerator. 

“Melt the butter and warm the cream first,” instructed Wanda. 

_Ah, the Commander is in command mode,_ snickered Timothy to himself. 

“I know how to make proper mashed potatoes, Mum,” huffed Tracy. 

“You can add some of that wild porcini sea salt Donna gave Gran to them,” suggested Jennifer. “I bet that would be yummy. Look how amazing the soup turned out!” 

Jennifer bowed her head and began to rinse off the dirty dishes as Wanda’s ice blue gaze focused on her. 

Wanda stood with hands on hips as she watched her granddaughters and Heather busy themselves by loading the dirty dishes in the dishwasher. The girls were unusually quiet all of a sudden. 

_Hmmm…they are waiting for the ax to fall. They know they did wrong._

“Speaking of the salts Donna brought,” began Wanda. “Just what in the hell possessed you girls to take it upon yourselves to add something like that to my soup?” 

Emily felt the hairs prickle on the back of her neck as she exchanged worried looks with Heather. 

_I should have known we weren’t out of the woods yet.  
_

“If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to make a phone call,” said Derrick hurriedly. “I’ll be out on the balcony if you need me.” _  
_

The three girls turned to face Wanda’s wrath. 

“May I also ask why you three felt the need to trim the cheese off the sides of the crocks?” 

“That wasn’t my idea! The salt was my idea. I was the lookout,” piped up Jennifer. 

“Lookout for what?” asked Timothy in a perplexed tone. 

“I meant to say spy. I was listening to what was going on in the lounge and reporting back to Emmy and Heather while they trimmed the cheese off the crocks.” 

“How about that, Commander, a possible new recruit,” quipped Timothy. “She can take my post once I retire.” 

“Recruit for what, Grandpa?” asked Emmy. 

“Never you mind,” replied Timothy. “It’s a private joke between your Gran and me.” 

_I wouldn’t exactly call it a joke,_ thought Wanda. 

Heather held up her hand. “It was my idea to trim the cheese, Mrs. Cumberbatch.” 

“Why on earth would you do that?” 

“I thought it looked a bit…well, you know…sloppy…I mean rustic.” 

Emily nodded vigorously. “Rustic. Since Donna’s a food critic, we thought the crocks should look neater.” 

“The cheese is supposed to drip down the sides!” exclaimed Tracy angrily. “Looking rustic is the whole idea! Your trimming the cheese off the sides gave the remaining cheese nothing to cling to. That’s why it sunk to the bottom.” 

“You took a risk by using that sea salt,” added Wanda. “What if it made the soup too salty.” 

“Lucky for you that Gran doesn’t over salt anything to begin with,” said Timothy. “Or Donna’s impression would not have been favourable at all.” 

“We’re sorry, Gran,” apologized Emily. “We only meant well.” 

“We only wanted to help you impress Donna,” added Jennifer. “Being she’s a food critic and has that column in the Tribune.” 

“You were all damn lucky that it somehow worked, and she liked it,” said Wanda. “I want you to promise me that you’ll leave the cooking and seasoning to me.” 

“Promise,” the girls said in unison. 

“Another fifteen minutes for the Yorkshire puddings, Mum,” declared Tracy consulting the timer. “I wish I could take a look, but I’ve the mash to finish first. Jenn, could you turn on the oven light?” 

“She can’t,” said Timothy. “The oven light isn’t working. I have to buy an new bulb.” 

“Let me take a peek for you,” offered Heather as she turned and opened the wall oven. 

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” yelled Wanda and Tracy at the same time. “DON’T OPEN THE OVEN!!!” 

Heather quickly let the oven door slam shut. She saw the horrified looks on Wanda and Tracy’s faces. 

“I was just taking a look for you, Mrs. Peacock, being you were busy with the mash,” cried a terrified Heather. “You said you wanted to take a look!” 

“ _Wish_! I said I _wish_ I could take a look!” exclaimed Tracy. “You _never_ open an oven while the puddings are still baking. Hasn’t your mum ever told you never to open the oven when something’s baking?” 

Heather shook her head. “My mother buys them ready made at Marks and Spencer.” 

“I’m afraid to look,” wailed Wanda as she approached the oven. 

“Let’s wait until they’re supposed to be done baking,” suggested Tracy. “Hopefully, we can still salvage them. As you were, Heather.” 

 

*******************************************************

 

“Can I use the bathroom?” Donna asked Benedict. “All that water is going right through me.”

  _This is one of those times when I’m grateful for her drinking so much water all the time.  
_

“This way. It’s right across the hall,” said Benedict, leading her to the small light pink and mint green tiled bathroom. 

“Where does that door lead to?” asked Donna, indicating the door at the end of the hallway. 

“It leads to a stairway that goes to the roof terrace. Would you like to see it before lunch?” 

“Yes! It’s getting a bit hot in here; so I would welcome some fresh air.” 

“I’ll be in my room,” said Benedict as Donna disappeared into the bathroom. 

Donna locked the door and leaned back against it as she breathed a sigh of relief. 

_What a tense lunch this has been so far! I hope the entrée can be eaten without more games._

The bathroom consisted of a combination tub/shower, toilet and sink. The tile floor was covered with shaggy pink scatter rugs. The garish shower curtain and matching window curtain were shocking pink background with huge green, white and yellow flowers. A small window looked down on the driveway along the side of the mews house. 

_This bathroom is right out of the 1970’s, too! This whole place is like a time warp. I guess Wanda’s not one for change. I dread the day when Mom and Dad come here to meet them. Maybe the first meeting should take place in a restaurant so I can prepare Mom.  
_

*****************************************************

 

Benedict Cumberbatch crossed the hallway into his old bedroom and made a beeline for the desk in front of the window. He opened the center drawer and removed the small black scrapbook that had ‘Benedict’s Reviews’ lettered on the cover in Wanda’s neat handwriting.

_I don’t have much time, unless Donna’s taking inventory of the bathroom. I need to find the bloody thing before she comes back and starts asking me questions I’m not ready to answer yet.  
_

He began to flip the pages until he came to the one he had been looking for. 

The newspaper article from the London Times dated June 2, 2002 that Wanda had neatly cut out and pasted onto the page still caused him to wince:

**Theatre Reviews**

 

**As You Like It**

**Regents Park Open Air Theatre, London**

**June 1 thru June 30**

**Review by Neil Saint James**

 

Benedict quickly read the article. He shook his head in disgust as he finished it. 

_I knew it was the son of a bitch! I think I knew it all along. I just had to see it for myself. Why? Why of all mother fuckers did he have to turn out to be Donna’s father? Dad knows, which means Mum must also have realized it’s him._

Benedict flipped the page in order to read the next two reviews that Neil Saint James had written of the other two plays he had been in at the Regents Park Open Air Theatre that summer. Both were equally scathing of his performances. It still stung to read the words, even though it had been years since Benedict had laid eyes on them. Finally, there was the blog, which was the icing on the cake. 

_Cocksucker! How dare he cut me down like that with a stroke of his fucking poison pen! He had no right then, and he has no right now to continue to judge me like he did. He still has no regard for me and refuses to take me as a serious actor. Well, we’ll see about that!_

Benedict flipped to the next page which contained a letter that his mother had written to Neil Saint James in response to the reviews. He laughed out loud as he read it. 

_Well done you, Mum! I recall being mortified at the time when I found out; but she done told him, didn’t she. Hell hath no fury like a mother scorned_. 

“What’s so funny?” inquired Donna from the doorway of his room. 

Benedict slammed the scrapbook shut and shoved it back in the drawer. 

“Just some old rugby team photos is all.” 

“I’d love to see them!” Said Donna coming to stand by his side. 

“Hmmm…and I’d love to show them to you but we haven’t finished the flat tour yet. You’ve yet to see the roof garden,” smiled Benedict, practically dragging Donna out of the room. “Why don’t you go check on what they’re up to in the kitchen while I use the loo…I might be a few minutes,” he added. 

 

********************************************************

  

Donna Saint James surreptitiously crept down the hallway until she could see that there was no one in the living room. She could hear Tracy’s husband, Derrick, talking from the direction of the balcony and the sounds of the usual kitchen clamor when food was being prepared. 

_Good! They’re still getting the food ready. I want to see what Benedict was really looking at._

Donna quickly dashed back into Benedict’s room and went directly to the desk. She opened the drawer, removed the black scrapbook and began to leaf through it. 

_These aren’t old rugby team photos! These are reviews of Benedict’s performances that Wanda made a scrapbook of. I recognize her handwriting from her note. How sweet! Hmmm…wait. This is a pretty mediocre review…and…what the fuck?_

Donna stood riveted to the spot as she turned a page and the title of the review hit her in the face:

 

**Theatre Reviews**

 

**As You Like It**

**Regents Park Open Air Theatre, London**

**June 1 thru June 30**

**Review by Neil Saint James**

 

 

_Daddy wrote this review in 2002 when he spent the summer in London taking Uncle Rodney’s place at the London Times after he had the bypass surgery.  
_

Donna quickly skimmed the review, as she listened for any sounds of Benedict returning. 

_Jesus Christ! This is the article Benedict was talking about. No wonder he detests Daddy so much! It’s absolutely brutal._

Donna turned the page and found two other reviews written by her father. Both were similar in content and tone to the first one. 

_Oh my God! These are just as bad as the first review he wrote. Could Benedict’s performances have been that bad to earn such scathing reviews? What a shame that these plays weren’t taped so I could judge for myself. I need to do a search for other reviews so I can make a fair comparison.  
_

Donna once again turned the page to find several entries from a theatre blog her father also wrote. They were all from the same time period and to Donna’s dismay, she found Neil had also taken pot shots at Benedict in those as well. She shook her head in disgust as she read her father’s words aloud: 

“…The talentless, wooden acting of arse-named, horse-faced twot, Benedict Cumberbatch.”

  _Oh, Daddy, how could you? This is just plain mean!   Poor Benedict!_

Donna was suddenly alerted to the sound of the bathroom door being unlocked. 

_Oopps! Time to put this back before Benedict catches me. I don’t think I feel like dealing with a new round of questions just yet._

She quickly jammed the scrapbook back into the drawer and was trying to shove it closed just as Benedict entered the room. 

_Ah, the damn drawer won’t close! I think the cover’s caught, but I can’t tell. Now, he’s going to know I was snooping in his things!_

“That drawer has always stuck. Shall I give you a hand, Darling?”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. The quote: “The talentless, wooden acting of arse-named, horse-faced twot, Benedict Cumberbatch” supposedly did come from a blog that Benedict had read on line about himself. I have yet to find any evidence of said blog.
> 
> 2\. I’ve never made French Onion soup, so I don’t really know if the crouton would sink to the bottom, but I thought it sounded good. LOL!


	82. Chapter 82

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 5 of Sunday Lunch with the Cumberbatches. Donna’s guilty conscious causes her to make a confession, while Tracy confronts Wanda and Timothy. Benedict finally gets time to snoop on the computer, but gets an unwelcome interruption.
> 
> Note: I’ll be using ****** to indicate things happening at the same time.

  _  
_

Wanda Ventham’s stomach filled with dread as the kitchen timer went off indicating that the Yorkshire puddings were ready. 

“Shall we take a look then?” asked Tracy quickly moving towards the oven. 

Wanda nodded and crossed her fingers. “Go ahead.” 

Tracy carefully opened the oven door to reveal the puddings. To her dismay they had completely collapsed. 

“Shit!” exclaimed Tracy, pulling out the pan and placing it on a cooling rack. “Damn things should have been at least four inches tall!” 

Everyone gathered around the kitchen counter to view the puddings. 

“The bloody things are as flat as pancakes,” said Emily sadly. 

“I’m by no means a cook, but they don’t look totally flat to me,” ventured Timothy meekly. 

“The centers appeared to have caved in,” fretted Wanda, taking a knife. “Let me cut one open. Hells bells. Just as I feared. They’re inside.” 

Tracy took a piece of the pudding and ate it. “The shells taste fine,” she commented. “Just as always.” 

“The outsides look perfect,” observed Heather. “Maybe we can scoop out the uncooked dough and serve the shells.” 

“What are you thinking, Heather? Gran can’t serve Yorkshire pudding shells to a food critic!” cried Jennifer. “What will Donna think?” 

“That I’m a rubbish cook,” sighed Wanda woefully. 

“I suppose you’re going to have to toss the puddings and just serve the mash and veggies with the roast,” said Tracy. “Donna will never know the difference if we don’t say anything.” 

“Wait! I know what you can do, Mrs. Cumberbatch!,” exclaimed Heather, eyes shining with excitement. “I saw Nigella Lawson once hollow out Yorkshire puddings and stuff them with mash! It looked brilliant – like little mash filled cornucopias when she was done!” 

Tracy and Wanda exchanged excited glances. 

“Do you think we could pull it off?” asked Tracy. 

“If Nigella could, so can we!” exclaimed Wanda. “Brilliant suggestion, Heather!” 

Heather beamed proudly at Wanda’s words. 

“You could add chives to the mash,” suggested Emily. “To give it some colour.” 

“Yes! And maybe a pinch of that porcini mushroom sea salt over the tops to give it even more flavour,” piped up Jennifer handing the bottle of salt to Wanda. 

Wanda opened the bottle, sniffed and took a tiny pinch. “Yes, this should do nicely.” 

“Who would have thought that you could put finishing salt inside the food?” laughed Tracy. 

“Me! I get the credit!” exclaimed Jennifer. 

“I think we should add a dollop or two of sour cream to the mash, Tracy,” said Wanda, warming even more to the idea. “What about some streaky bacon? I could fry up a few larders and crumble it in for texture.” 

“You can never go wrong with bacon,” declared Timothy. “I think I’ll go back to the lounge and keep Barrister Ben distracted.” 

“Might I strongly suggest that tour of the roof garden,” said Wanda. “I need to buy some time. Bring down some chives. Tell them I need a garnish for the roast. Off you go then!” 

Timothy gave his wife a jaunty salute. “Aye, Commander.”

 

**************************************************  


 Donna turned to face Benedict and slammed the drawer shut with her bottom.   He blinked and looked at her quizzically with a raised eyebrow. 

“I thought you were going back to the lounge…” he began. 

“Your brother-in-law is out on the balcony talking on the phone and everyone else is still in the kitchen. Since you were still using the bathroom, I thought I’d come in and have a look at your rugby photos.” 

“Uncle Ben!” called Jennifer from the hallway. 

Benedict went out into the hallway, as Donna sagged against the desk. 

_That was a close call. He won’t forget though. He never does. I just bought myself some time.  
_

 

***************************************************

  

“I was just giving Donna a tour of the flat. Is it time to eat yet?” Benedict asked his niece. 

“No. Gran needs some more time and said you should take Donna up to the roof garden while she finishes up.” 

“Will do then,” acknowledged Benedict as Jennifer practically ran back to the kitchen. 

_Jenn looked pretty rattled. Why do I have the feeling that something is up?  
_

*****************************************************

“Oh, it’s beautiful up here!” exclaimed Donna Saint James as she looked about the Cumberbatches’ roof terrace. “Did Tim do all this himself?” 

“I helped him whenever I had the time,” said Benedict. “The majority of the credit belongs to him though.” 

“I love how he hid all the eyesores with trellises and potted plantings. It’s like a little oasis right in the middle of the city.”

“You should see his cottage garden in Gloucestershire. He’s got a proper herb garden and so many flowers you don’t know what to look at first. It’s truly a labour of love.” 

“Maybe I should hire him to come to New York and landscape my roof garden, which has an awful view of the backs of the surrounding brownstones. The only time I go out there is to barbecue.” 

“You mean your parents brownstone?” 

“Nope. I’m talking about my apartment. I don’t live with my parents.” 

“You’d have to be daft to,” smirked Benedict. 

Donna frowned at him. 

_Jeez, he really does hate Mom and Dad, doesn’t he? Not without reason though to be fair. If we get married, he’ll never want to visit them in New York. I could see him being the type to say: Oh, you go ahead, Darling. I’ve got work to do.  
_

_Turn on your fucking mouth filter, Benedict. You hurt her feelings. Even though you despise them –and she bloody well knows it - they are still her parents and your potential future in-laws._

“I’m sorry, Donna. That wasn’t called for. What I really meant is that I feel this way about _everyone_ …children should move out on their own once they’ve grown…” 

_You meant what you said, Benedict; and I probably would have said the same had I been in your shoes._

“…because it can lead to… friction after a while, you know? It’s hard for the parents to realize that their child is an adult and has to live their life the way he wants to.” 

_OH, he’s talking about him and Wanda._

“I’m a prime example. I moved out as soon as I went to Manchester. I never came back…only while I was in between flats or needed a place to crash if I were out late and in the area. And whenever I do stay over, our roles immediately revert back to parent and child. I find I can’t wait to return to Hampstead, and I’m sure they can’t wait for me to go.” 

“You spent most of your childhood away at boarding schools.” 

“True, and I attribute that to contributing to my being able to adapt to all sorts of situations and being self-sufficient.” 

“We lived at home until we went to college. Then we moved right back in after graduation. Kenny moved out when he and Scarlett got married. Carly, Steven and I moved out when Mom got us the brownstone.” 

_Hmmm…Antonia bought them a motherfucking brownstone. Those are worth quite a bit. The wankers definitely have money,_ thought Benedict. 

“Can you see Hyde Park from here?” asked Donna. 

“Allow me to show you one of the best views in London,” said Benedict, taking her by the hand and leading her to the railing that faced the west. 

“Oh! Is that Kensington Palace and Hyde Park?” 

“Yeah. I remember how excited I would get whenever helicopters would take off and land there. My parents tell me helicopter was my first word,” chuckled Benedict. 

“I didn’t realize how close you were to the Royal Garden Hotel.” 

“We’re neighbors,” chuckled Benedict. “I used to lay in bed at night and look out at the windows of the rooms that were lit up and try and imagine what the guests were up to inside.” 

“Probably just the usual comings and goings,” mused Donna. 

“I suppose. When I got older I used to imagine romantic trysts going on. A couple of times I got quite the show from guests who didn’t believe in drawing the drapes closed.” 

“Well, hotels are used for that besides the usual vacations and business travel.” 

“I felt like we were having a tryst of our own in Crestwood,” said Benedict with a wink. 

“It did feel like that, didn’t it?” 

“It felt like that a lot,” agreed Benedict. 

“If I hadn’t gotten my period we would have…trysted,” giggled Donna. 

“Yes, I suppose I would have let you seduce me that night being I’m such a tart upon finding a beautiful half-naked woman in my room. Of course having my parents right across the hall added a touch of intrigue to the situation.” 

_Oh, you have no idea just how much intrigue, Benedict. Enough to last me a lifetime._

“And in the end, no matter how many precautions we took, I wound up bumping into your dad in the hallway.”

 “I’m so glad you were seated at my table that night at Barbecoa.” 

“Me, too! I had come to the point where I had given up on meeting any nice men in London.” 

“I had gone from a long-term relationship to empty one-night stands and then another relationship that barely lasted a year. After that I threw myself into my work and casually dated here and there as my schedule permitted, which wasn’t much. I just couldn’t find someone who I could connect with. Someone who wanted the same things out of life that I did. Do you know that I swore off shagging until I fell in love – and I mean really fell in love - not just an infatuation? By the time we met, I was totally disgusted with the whole dating game. That night I was sat feeling very depressed and frightfully lonely.” 

“I hear you. I had two serious relationships, which failed. Danny was too immature and wanted to run off to Las Vegas to try his luck as a singer. Roy was a workaholic, who was only interested in how many cases he could win. When I jumped back into the dating pool, all the guys I met were such jerks. They were totally self-absorbed and just looking for casual hookups. Many were frightened away at the mention of the words marriage, commitment and family.” 

Benedict smiled at her. “The words commitment, marriage and family have never frightened me in the slightest. I crave them while some men abhor them.” 

“I found it very hard to meet the right person – until that night at Barbecoa.” 

“As did I. Well, neither of us has to worry about that anymore,” smiled Benedict. “I found someone wonderful to love, who loves me back to the same degree. We are in sync on all the important issues in life. Most importantly, our love is based on mutual trust, respect and commitment to each other.” 

_I wish he hadn’t brought up trust._

“Benedict, I thank my lucky stars that fate put us at the same table.” 

“Hmmm…actually it was the hostess who did that. I should send her flowers as a token of our appreciation,” joked Benedict. 

“I like to think that Jamie Oliver was responsible for bringing us together,” mused Donna. “The only reason I was there that night was because he wanted to discuss my review with me in person.” 

“Yes. In a way he did,” agreed Benedict pensively. “I’ll send the flowers to both of them then,” he mused. “It was a damn good thing Jamie invited you that night, as I think I was going to have to disown my mother before long.” 

_He’s referring to the famous quest for a bird for Benedict._

Donna managed to look surprised. “Your mother is so sweet, Ben. Are you referring to her matchmaking hobby?”

 Benedict nodded glumly and ran his hand through his hair. “Yeah, I am. Mum had become absolutely insufferable. She was forever trying to set me up – even with strangers. I used to get so angry and hostile towards her at times. She never understood just how undesirable and humiliated I felt – as if I were damaged goods and no one wanted me. Even my sister and nieces got in on the act. Emmy tried to set me up with Heather, as you know. Can you imagine me with Heather for fucks sake?” 

“Um...no. Heather’s too young for you, if you don’t mind my saying.” 

“Exactly. The night of Jimmy’s concert only reinforced that. We had nothing in common, and I would feel funny about shagging someone her age.” 

“Hattie’s about the same age as Heather,” pointed out Donna. “Maybe a bit older, but I guess she and James found enough in common to try and make it work.” 

“How true. Jimmy said they really seem to be getting on quite well, but he’s still gun shy from his divorce. Only time will tell if they make it or not.” 

“I have this gut feeling that they will,” smiled Donna. “They seem to adore each other…I can see it in their eyes when they look at each other.” She reached out and patted Benedict’s forearm. “I feel bad your family has been so hell bent on setting you up. Did Tracy do it, too?” 

“Not only Tracy. My niece, Jenn, would actually tell me about her hot, single teachers. Tracy was forever telling me about her friend’s single daughters. I remember one time Derrick even had the bollocks to suggest that I try internet dating for fucks sake! My friends even tried to make matches for me. One time my mother wanted to fix me up with one of my driver’s daughters, and I just blew. It was a month or so before we met I think. I remember losing my temper and yelling outside our cottage in Gloucestershire like an utter lunatic. I told her she might as well put an ad in Craigslist on my behalf and find me a bird already and be done with it. I believe my parting words to her that day were something to the effect of: just tell me what day and time to be at the church.” 

_Don’t knock it until you tried it, Benedict. Look at where it got me. Had we not met, it would have gotten me you anyway!_

“Of course, I would never stoop as low as placing an ad myself; but I kept thinking that it was just the type of stunt my Mum would pull.” 

_And it was. She decided to literally take you at your word.  
_

“Do you _really_ think she would do such a thing, Ben?” 

Benedict smiled and shook his head. “Do you know how many times I’ve asked myself that very question? I even put it to my friends and Derrick. They all reassured me that Mum would never do that; and in reality, I know Dad would step in if he ever got a whiff that she would actually entertain such a crazy notion.” 

_Oh, he stepped in alright. He stepped in and joined ranks with her. This is awful. He trusts and respects me. I can’t have this lie come between us.  
_

“Benedict. I need to tell you something; but before I do, I want you to promise not to judge me, okay?” 

Benedict turned to face her and took her hands in his. “You can tell me anything, Donna. I promise not to judge you. I’ve shared deep, dark secrets with you, and you’ve never judged me. I love that we have no secrets between us.” 

_So glad I told her about my smoking. I should mention my fondness for the occasional spliff though. She may not be too keen about that little vice of mine._

“I once answered one of those want ads in order to find a boyfriend.” 

“You went on Craigslist?” 

_I can’t imagine why Donna would ever want to resort to finding someone via Craigslist of all bloody things.  
_

“Yes. It was before we ever met. I was feeling very much like you were. Sad, lonely, disgusted about not finding any nice guy to make a life with. I was jealous of my sister and brother and my friends. No one was single but me. So one day, Carly asked me to go onto Craigslist and see if there were any Sous Chefs looking for work. Ours had quit and we needed to replace him. That night I had returned home from yet another date gone wrong and went onto Craigslist. At first, it wasn’t my intent to look at the personal ads; but as soon as I found the chef, I wandered into the personal ads. I found one that immediately caught my attention because it was so cleverly worded that I just had to respond.”

  

*****************************************************

 

Timothy Carlton opened the door leading to the roof terrace just in time to hear Donna Saint James telling Benedict that she had responded to a personal ad in Craigslist: 

“That night I had returned home from yet another date gone wrong and went onto Craigslist. At first, it wasn’t my intent to look at the personal ads; but as soon as I found the chef, I wandered into the personal ads. I found one that immediately caught my attention because it was so cleverly worded that I just had to respond.” 

_Christ on a crutch! Why in the hell is she telling this to Benedict? I’ve got to interrupt this before she tells him about the plan._

“Hello you two! Wanda sent me up to give Donna a tour of the herb garden,” said Timothy as he trotted over to join them. “How are you finding my little piece of what passes for paradise in central London, Donna?” 

“It’s beautiful, Tim. Benedict was telling me that you grow your own herbs.” 

“Yes,” Timothy said proudly. “Right over here in these boxes. Benedict helped me make them. Ben, could you please get me my clippers. I want to get your mother some fresh chives for a garnish.” 

Benedict moved to a small potting shed to retrieve the clippers. Timothy took Donna’s arm and let her over to the wooden planters. 

“Why in the hell are you telling him about the ad?” he hissed. “Do you want to ruin everything we’ve worked so hard for?” 

“I feel so guilty about keeping Benedict in the dark about everything. I just wanted to come clean.” 

“You’re not thinking this through, Donna,” urged Timothy in a low voice. “You have a lot to lose if he takes it the wrong way, and take it wrong he shall. I’ve known my son a lot longer than you have!” 

“I disagree, Tim. I think he’ll understand…” 

“I beg to differ,” snapped Timothy urgently. “He will _never_ understand. All he will understand is that all three of us went against his wishes and conspired against him. Wanda and I risk having our relationship with our only son destroyed and you risk losing the man you want to marry one day. Is it worth clearing ….” 

“What is worth clearing?” asked Benedict, handing off the shears to Timothy. 

“I was talking about clearing out the thyme in favour of replacing it with lemon basil. What do you think, Donna?” 

“I’d keep the thyme myself,” replied Donna. “Lemon basil isn’t used that often.” 

The door to the roof terrace opened to reveal a harried-looking Emily. 

“Gran said to come down and carve the roast, Grandpa. Lunch is ready.” 

Timothy reluctantly cut a handful of chives and turned to go. He made warning eyes at Donna to keep quiet and went back downstairs with Emily. 

Once they were alone on the terrace, Benedict took Donna’s hands in his again. He looked deep into her hazel eyes. 

“Listen to me, Donna. I know you’re embarrassed about answering a personal ad, but there’s no need to be. I utterly understand what motivated you to do it, and it doesn’t matter to me in the slightest. What’s in the past should remain there – for both of us.” 

“I know, but I really wanted to get this out in the open!” 

Benedict lightly laid his index finger on her lips to silence her. “And you have, and I don’t judge you for it..."

Donna pushed his hand away.  "But Ben, you don't understand.  It went beyond just answering an ad, it..."

"Donna!  Please!  I don't give a fuck about what happened!" said Benedict sharply. "Forgive me for being so blunt," he added, softening his voice. "So you went on a date with someone.  It doesn't matter to me.  I'm the one you chose to be with. All I care about is that we met and are in a committed relationship with a wonderful future ahead of us. I love you very much, Sweetheart.” 

“I love you, too, Ben Honey.” 

“I will never tire of hearing you say those words,” he smiled. “Now, let’s go down to lunch.” 

 

**********************************************************

  

Donna Saint James was feeling very full after a delicious Sunday lunch. Everything had been expertly prepared and the conversation flowed easily. The only thing that Donna kept noticing was everyone continued to watch her the first time she took a bite of something as if trying to gauge her reaction. 

_I already said that everything was delicious, and I meant it. However, I have the sneaking suspicion that they are waiting for me to give Wanda a more detailed review. They keep sneaking looks at me. Benedict’s neck must be sore from constantly turning to look at me. It’s also hot as hell in here, and not one of them is sweating. Only me._

“This was a delicious lunch, Wanda,” Donna said patting her upper lip with the napkin. “You should give that Chef at Au Printemps a lesson on how a Sunday roast should be prepared. It was as good as Benedict said it was – tender, juicy and very flavorful. The rosemary finishing salt enhanced the flavor of the fresh herbs.” 

“I thought it would be fun to experiment with your gift,” said Wanda, who was beaming. 

“I never had a stuffed Yorkshire pudding before. It had all the ingredients used in a loaded baked potato inside a popover shell. This was such a creative side dish. I’m going to have to get your recipe before I leave.” 

_What recipe?_ Thought Wanda. _The well-meaning dolt friend of my granddaughter opens oven, causing said puddings to fall. We nick an idea from Nigella Lawson and improvise by scooping out the raw dough and doctoring up the mash in order to stuff the shells we were able to salvage. That’s my recipe for saving face along with the ruined puddings._

“Neither have I,” remarked Benedict. “This is the first time she’s made it, and it really is a nice change. As a matter of fact, it’s genius! You need to add this to your repertoire, Mum.” 

_He should only know he’s just called my idea genius,_ thought Heather, trying to conceal a smug grin. 

_Hells bells! I’ve got enough secrets to keep, yet alone add a trivial one to it. Let me come clean and be done with it._

“To be honest, it was just something that was cobbled together at the last minute,” declared Wanda, looking sheepish. 

“And those are the recipes that often turn out to be some of the best,” smiled Donna reassuringly. 

“It only happened because I opened the oven door when I shouldn’t have and the puddings all fell,” explained Heather. 

Donna’s eyes focused on Heather. 

_Why do I also have a sneaking suspicion that she has something to do with the different onion soup?_ Thought Benedict. 

Heather’s blue eyes met Benedict’s. 

_He’s looking at me with that accusatory glare of his,_ thought Heather miserably. _I hate when he looks at me like that. It’s like he can read your deepest thoughts._

“I didn’t mean to ruin them. You should have seen them – all golden brown on the outside and raw in the middle.” 

“It was a simple miscommunication,” added Emily, patting her friend’s arm soothingly. 

“We didn’t know what to do,” chimed in Jennifer. “It wasn’t as bad as the soup though, was it Gran?” 

“The soup?” inquired Donna with a raised eyebrow. 

“What in the hell happened to the soup?” asked Benedict, directly his question to Heather. 

“We...I mean _I_... thought the cheese on the sides of the crock looked sloppy, so we trimmed it off,” replied Heather.

“You thought?” demanded Benedict. 

_And once again we have another fine and splendid example of what happens when they think,_ mused Timothy to himself. 

“Well, they _did_ look sloppy!” insisted Heather. “You can’t serve a food critic something that looks…well, sloppy.” 

“I was aiming for _rustic_ , Heather,” snapped Wanda. “The cheese needs to overlap the rims so it doesn’t sink.” 

“We had no idea the croutons and cheese would sink to the bottom,” said Emily. “They did look nice before everything sank.” 

“It was my idea to use the salts,” piped up Jennifer. 

“Don’t you two have a paper to work on?” asked Tracy pointedly. “Jenn, would you please help me with clearing the table so we can lay it for pudding?” 

Wanda carefully folded and laid her serviette on the table. “I’m so embarrassed, Donna. I’ve never had this happen in all the years I’ve been cooking, and as I told you, I’ve been at it since I was twelve.” 

Benedict’s head swiveled to study his mother closely. 

_When in the hell did she tell Donna that? If she did, I either wasn’t in the room or not paying attention. I haven’t left Donna alone in the room with her.  
_

Tracy also caught Wanda’s slip of the tongue. 

_I’m not crackers. Mum never told Donna that in my presence, and we’ve all been together.  
_

_Shit! Ben and Tracy caught Wanda’s faux pas,_ thought Donna _. Wanda told me that over breakfast that morning. My honey’s going to be quizzing me once we’re alone.  
_

“I think we can chalk it up to a happy accident for our stomachs!” smiled Donna. _  
_

“Donna’s right. It wasn’t your fault, Pet,” said Timothy soothingly. “No one was the wiser until Heather let the proverbial cat out of the bag, bless her; and we all realize it wasn’t done with malice.” 

“I never would have known,” quickly agreed Benedict. “I did something similar the first time I made Donna dinner at my flat. I wound up short on time and had to cobble together a pudding, so I went to Sainsbury and bought a chocolate cake that I scraped the frosting off. Then I melted it in the microwave to use as a fudge sauce. Then I just layered it in glasses with chocolate pudding and cherry topping that I bought at their salad bar along with a few squirts of ready-made whipped cream and...” 

_Well, well! Benedict tried to pull a fast one on me and used all store-bought ingredients to pass his dessert off as being made from scratch. Isn’t he the clever one?_

_Shit. What did I just say? Look at Donna’s face._

“Voila! Benedict’s signature Black Forrest Cake Trifle dessert was born,” finished Donna with a smirk. 

“You don’t have a bloody signature pudding!” scoffed Emily. 

“You’re not one to bake, Uncle Ben!” giggled Jennifer. “You always go to the bakery for your puddings.” 

“That was dishonest to try and fool a food critic, Benedict,” Sneered Heather. “Especially one you happen to be in a relationship with.” 

_Hmmm…and this one was completely fooled,_ thought Donna with amusement. _I believed every word that rolled off that honeyed tongue of his that night. He’s a very convincing actor._

“Shame on you, Benedict!” guffawed Tracy. “I bet Donna saw right through that white lie, didn’t you Donna?” 

“I bet she only ate it to be polite,” chimed in Emily. 

“Particularly if you’re hoping to shag afterwards,” whispered Heather loudly to Emily, who elbowed her. “Owww!”

“It actually _was_ delicious,” said Donna. “I had no idea it wasn’t made from scratch, Benedict. You can make that for me any time!” 

Benedict crinkled his nose and smiled back at her. “Thank you, Darling. You are too kind.” Donna could see him puff up a bit at her words. 

Tracy smiled sincerely at Donna. “I wanted to tell you how chuffed I am that you and my brother found each other, Donna. I think I can speak for everyone here that we all couldn’t be more over the moon and wish you both a happy future together. I personally couldn’t wait for Benedict to finally bring home the right one. It’s been a long and winding road.” 

“Not _that_ long,” snapped Benedict. “Or winding for that matter.” 

There was an awkward pause before Tracy’s husband, Derrick, spoke up. 

“No matter what the circumstances, it was a lovely lunch, Wanda,” said Derrick, wiping the beads of perspiration that had formed on his face with his serviette. “One of the best I’ve ever had.” 

_Well thank God one of them sweats besides me!_ Thought Donna with relief. _He just used the napkin to blot his forehead, so I guess I can, too. I’ll just be very discrete about it, so no one will notice.  
_

Wanda glared at Derrick. _I wish to hell he wouldn’t do that with my vintage serviettes! It’s a damn good thing he doesn’t wear makeup!_

Donna gently blotted the sweat off her upper lip and under her bangs as inconspicuously as possible. When she went to fold it she noticed to her horror that the napkin was streaked with her makeup. 

_SHIT! My foundation is all over Wanda’s vintage napkin! Derrick doesn’t wear makeup, so that’s why his came away clean. I didn’t consider that my makeup would come off. The fucking bottle says it’s waterproof!! I’m taking it back to Selfridge’s tomorrow. But in the meantime, I need to wash this out before Wanda sees it!  
_

“Oh, you‘ve gone and soiled Mrs. Cumberbatches’ serviette!” said Heather in a low voice. 

_Oh, I should have known that little bitch saw me. She misses nothing._

Donna pretended to drop the napkin on the floor in between her and Heather’s chair. 

“Let me get that, Love,” offered Benedict, as he started to push back his chair. 

Donna raised her hand to stop Benedict and quickly leaned over as Heather picked up the napkin. 

“No. I’ve got it.” 

“Oooo this is one right mess you’ve made,” whispered Heather accusingly as she looked at the beige stain. “They belonged to Mr. Cumberbatches’ mum.” 

“Hush, Heather!” hissed Donna in a barely audible voice. “I’m well aware of what I did. Please just keep it to yourself for once!” 

As Donna sat up, she noticed Benedict’s ice blue eyes riveted on her. 

“Alright?” he asked her. 

“Um. Yes. Please excuse me for a minute,” said Donna, stuffing the napkin into the pocket of her dress and leaving the room in a hurry. 

Benedict had seen Donna’s face blanch, but didn’t know what had transpired between her and Heather. 

_Words passed between them when they bent down to retrieve the serviette.  
_

“Is Donna alright, Ben?” Timothy asked with concern as he watched Donna head for the bathroom as if the hounds from hell were on her heels. 

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck as he looked after her. “Erm…I’m not entirely sure. I think I’ll check on her. She looked a bit…warm. She’s not used to the heat…she’s rather spoilt for central air con.” 

“It’s the heat alright,” piped up Heather. “She told me under the table that she was starting to feel the heat.” 

“Now that you mention it, it _is_ rather hot in here,” declared Derrick. “I know I’ve been perspiring a bit. It’s all the hot food.” 

“Hot food is supposed to cool you down when you’re hot,” said Jennifer. 

“That’s hot as in spicy foods,” corrected Tracy. “I think maybe you should consider serving the pudding up on the roof terrace, Mum.” 

“I think that’s a brilliant idea,” agreed Wanda. “Derrick, could you please set up the umbrella over the table. That way we’ll have some shade and hopefully we’ll catch a nice breeze up there.” 

“I’ll be up to help in a minute,” Said Timothy. “I just want to get my tea brewing. Ben’s requested that I make Donna my special brew.” 

“No coffee then?” asked Tracy. 

“Not today. Donna told me she doesn’t really fancy coffee,” replied Wanda, getting to her feet. 

“I’ve only seen her drink English breakfast or what did she have that time…,” added Timothy, who immediately froze. 

_I’m fucked_. _This secret keeping is much harder than I could ever dream._ _Help me, Commander! Distract them!  
_

_Tim and I are fucked this time. Look at their faces. They’re wondering how we could possibly have known that. I’ll just make light of it. Maybe Tracy will assume Ben told me. Tim’s comment is another matter._

_“_ Oh, hells bells! Does it _really_ matter? Donna’s a tea drinker is all.” 

Tracy fixed her mother with a stare as Wanda caught herself and hastily retreated to the kitchen with Timothy falling in right behind her. 

_Oh yes, it does matter, Mum!_ Thought Tracy Peacock. _I’ve got you both now, and the evidence is damning_. 

 

************************************************

  

Donna Saint James dashed into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. She opened up the delicate linen napkin and closely examined the makeup stain. 

_Shit! This is worse than I thought. How in the hell am I going to get it out?_

Donna looked frantically around the bathroom. 

Hmmm…let’s see…there’s liquid hand soap. That’s not going to do it. Neither will bath soap. I guess I don’t really have much of a choice. I’ll try the hand soap. 

There was a knock at the door, which caused Donna to jump and drop the napkin in the sink. 

“Donna? Are you alright?” came Benedict’s voice from right outside the door. 

“NO!” 

“Then open the door.” 

“NO!” 

Benedict sighed with impatience and leaned close to the door. “Donna, please open the motherfucking door. I bloody well know how to open the lock with a screwdriver, so please save me the trouble of hunting down Dad’s toolbox.”

_I don’t doubt that he’d do it either. Maybe he can help._

Donna quickly opened the door and yanked Benedict inside, slamming the door behind them. 

 

*************************************************

  

Tracy Peacock stormed into the kitchen and confronted Wanda and Timothy as they were getting the pudding ready to be served. She leaned back against the counter, arms crossed over her chest. 

“I have to tell you that I didn’t want to believe it at first.” 

“Believe what?” asked Wanda innocently, placing Donna’s cheesecake on a silver cake stand. 

_I sense a Tracy storm brewing_ , thought Timothy, casting a worried glance at his wife who continued with what she was doing. 

“However, as the lunch wore on I kept thinking to myself….” 

_There’s always trouble aplenty when they start to think,_ thought Timothy as he filled two china teapots with hot water in order to warm them. 

“….something’s not right with this picture. Whatever could be wrong?” 

_Oh, a million things I fear,_ thought Timothy as he filled the induction kettle and turned it on. 

_Plenty is wrong, daughter mine; and I have a sinking feeling you’re about to tell me_ , thought Wanda, as she went to the refrigerator to remove the bread and butter pudding Tracy had brought. _I will endeavor to keep calm and carry on._

“And then it dawned on me. Not only are Mum and Tim awfully comfortable in Donna’s presence, but Donna in theirs as well.” 

“Well, why wouldn’t she be? demanded Wanda, eyes flashing. “We’re very hospitable people and are trying very hard to make Donna feel welcome and like part of the family, which is what we would have done for _any_ bird Benedict brought home.” 

Tracy snickered and shook her head. “Pardon me, Mum; but I beg to differ. This is different from the way you two treated all the other girls Ben’s brought around. I was having such a hard time figuring out what was so different this time from all the others, when it suddenly hit me like a bolt of lightning!” 

_Shit. She’s getting ready to make a revelation. I have a feeling I know what it is, too,_ thought Wanda, removing the tin foil from the top of the dish. 

Timothy retrieved the tins of Earl Grey and Lapsang Souchong tea from one of the cabinets along with a measuring spoon.   He then emptied the teapots. 

_Time for the boom to fall. I hope the Commander has a good explanation at the ready, because I’m all out of them._

“It’s as if you all have known each other prior to today. Then I thought, well, maybe it’s because Donna’s very friendly and easy to talk to.” 

_I can try to answer this one,_ thought Timothy. 

“I have to say that I feel as if I’ve known Donna for an age now. She has quite the lovely personality,” Timothy declared. “Don’t you find her easy to talk to, Pet?”

“Oh, yes!” exclaimed Wanda, removing some cutlery from the silver chest she had left out on the counter. “I think I like Donna the best of all the birds Ben’s brought home to us. She’s perfect for him.” 

_Of course you do, Mum. And I know why. You don’t even have to admit it._

Tracy fixed Timothy with a blue-eyed stare that reminded him so much of Wanda; only her eyes were a darker blue. 

_This is not going to end well_ , he thought. _I hope the Commander is prepared for the onslaught._

“As I said, it finally hit me as to what was wrong. Both of you were completely at ease in her presence while we were eating lunch…so much at ease that neither of you bothered asking her _any_ questions about her life or job for that matter. It was as if you already knew everything there was to know about Miss Donna Saint James.” 

“Well, Benedict has told us quite a bit about her…” began Wanda. 

“When has that ever stopped you from heaping questions on them? That never mattered with his past girlfriends,” laughed Tracy harshly. “He could have handed you their CV, and you would still ask all kinds of questions about their job, their background, families.” 

“Your mother is toning down the future daughter-in-law inquisition,” said Timothy as he carefully measured the tea leaves into the tea pots. “Especially since Donna is a _serious_ contender.” 

“Not one bloody question was asked,” scoffed Tracy. “You two just picked up the conversation as if she were already part of the family. I caught you mentioning things to Donna that she _never_ would have known about the family, unless one of you told her prior to today. For fucks sake! You’ve both obviously drank tea with her somewhere!” 

Wanda removed her chocolate mousses from the refrigerator. “She’s been with Benedict for a while now. There are things he’s obviously told her about us and the family, and don’t tell me that you never told Derrick anything about us before we met him.” 

“Of course I told Derrick things, but we’re not talking about me. I’m not so sure I buy your cavalier explanation, Mum. I was sitting across from Ben and was watching his face. He was as surprised as I was. Mark my words, you’ll be hearing from Barrister Ben before this lunch is over.” 

_Your words have already been marked,_ thought Timothy. 

Tracy took a peak into the dining room and walked closer to Wanda and Timothy. She could see they both looked nervous as if they expected to be reprimanded. 

“Do you know what I think?” 

_Yes, I think I do,_ thought Wanda miserably. 

_I most certainly do_ , thought Timothy equally miserably. 

Tracy regarded the silent couple before her. 

“I think Donna Saint James is one of the girls who answered that ad you placed for a bird for Benedict and you both met her prior to today! No wonder you both are so fond of her – she was hand-picked!” 

“Busted,” muttered Timothy. 

Wanda quickly went to the archway and peeked out. Emily and Heather were on the computer while Jennifer had gone up to the roof terrace to aid her father in setting up the table. Benedict and Donna were no where to be seen. 

“Hells bells, Tracy! Sometimes you remind me of Benedict – and that wasn’t meant as a compliment,” exclaimed Wanda in frustration. “If you _really_ want to know so badly, I’ll tell you."

“I want to hear you say the words,” said Tracy. “I need to know that my intuition is right.” 

Wanda threw up her hands in surrender. “Okay! You’re right! Donna answered my ad, and we have met her prior to today.” 

“I can’t believe she answered your ad! Why in the hell would she be looking in personal ads in the first place?” 

“Because she wasn’t having any luck meeting men of quality,” retorted Wanda. “I don’t see what the big deal is. I placed the ad, she responded, we interviewed her.” 

“You both interviewed her? No wonder you know her so well!” 

“The Commander conducted the interview,” corrected Timothy. “I was only there in the capacity of official observer.” 

“Ah! The mastermind and her accomplice,” scoffed Tracy. 

“I prefer loyal foot soldier,” retorted Timothy. 

“You were every bit as involved as I was!” snapped Wanda. “It’s true I conducted the interview, but he sat at a neighboring table so he could listen in. Official observer, my ass – you were texting me throughout the whole damn interview!” 

“Bloody hell!” sighed Tracy. “It’s worse than I imagined. Does my brother have any inkling as to what you two did?” 

“NO!” Wanda and Timothy both exclaimed at the same time. 

“I don’t think I want to know any more about this then.” 

“Ah, kettle’s boiled,” observed Timothy as he returned to his tea making. He filled the pots with the fresh, boiled water and set the timer to brew the tea for three minutes 

“Tracy, would you be a love and take the puddings up to the roof.” 

“Wait! I do think I need to know more,” said Tracy, holding up a hand. “Though I have a feeling I’m going to regret this. So, Donna answered the ad, and you two met – Mum met her to interview her. Mum did the questioning and you did the eavesdropping, Tim? Do I have it right?” 

“Yes. It was at the Orangery for their afternoon tea. I sat at the next table and listened in on the conversation, texting comments and questions to your mother when I deemed necessary. I’m quite good at covert operations, especially the day I was at Parliament Hill Farmers Market trailing Donna.” 

“Jesus. It’s like something out of _The Avengers_. Fancy yourselves as Emma Peel and John Steed do you?” 

“I fancy us more like Richard and Judy,” quipped Wanda. 

“Shall I regale you with my clandestine adventures at the farmer’s market then?” asked Timothy cheekily. “I think that was the pinnacle of my career as an operative for the Commander.” 

“Jesus. I really don’t want to know about that. What I want to know is was that a cock and bull story about meeting Donna in the hallway of the inn she and Benedict stayed at?” 

“Only partially,” replied Wanda. 

“We did meet in the hallway, that part was true,” added Timothy. 

“I would say _most_ of it was based on the truth,” said Wanda thoughtfully. 

“Actually, it was more of a row on second thought,” mused Timothy. 

“Things did get a bit heated,” agreed Wanda. 

“Jesus,” Tracy breathed. 

“If you remember, Tim, Donna was saying she needed to find a chemist the next morning.” 

“There was another meeting the next morning? Where was my brother?” 

“He had left for filming. We agreed the night before to meet for breakfast once he had left the inn. We had a lovely chat and it enabled us to get even better acquainted,” replied Wanda. “So between the interview at the Orangery and our breakfast, we got to know Donna quite well.” 

“We also had to make sure she wasn’t going to say anything to your brother about all this, as he would never understand,” added Timothy,removing the tea leaves from the pots as soon as the timer went off

“You got that right. He would disown all three of you!” agreed Tracy. “So you three are all in on keeping this a secret from Benedict?” 

“Yes,” said Wanda, speaking for her and Timothy. “And I trust this will remain between us. Your brother would expect you to tell him.” 

“This is more cocked up than I imagined,” sighed Tracy. “I promise you that he won’t hear it from me. I want no part in this. I’m going up to lay the table for pudding.” 

Timothy pretended to pick up the teapots to follow Tracy to the stairs that led up to the roof terrace. He stopped as soon as she left the room. 

“Actually, I think that went rather well, Commander,” he said to Wanda. “All things considered.” 

“It could have been much worse,” she agreed, placing the mousses on a serving tray. 

“Yes, and it still has the potential to blow up in our collective faces one day,” said Timothy. “Tracy is now just as embroiled as the rest of us are as far as Benedict would be concerned.” 

“You heard her. She won’t say a word.” 

“It’s Donna I’m worried about. When I went up to the roof garden, I caught her in the middle of a confession to Benedict about answering a personal ad.” 

Wanda almost dropped the tray she was holding. “For fucks sake! What in the hell brought that on? Does Ben know? Does he suspect? What in bloody hell happened?” 

“Hush, Wanda. I was able to interrupt her just as she was about to tell him. I sent him to the potting shed to fetch my shears, which I needed anyway to cut herbs for you and spoke with her. I reinforced the importance of maintaining radio silence for her sake as well as ours.” 

“What did she say?” 

“She felt guilty about lying to Benedict.” 

“Blimey! So do we; but his finding out isn’t going to help matters at this stage of the game.” 

Timothy picked up the teapots and headed out of the room. “This is why I pulled her aside so I could emphasize it to her. Keep calm and carry on. Disaster has been averted for now, Commander,” he said over his shoulder. 

“Says you,” scoffed Wanda Ventham with a toss of her head. 

 

*********************************************************

  

“Thank God! How did you know I needed you, you wonderful man?” exclaimed Donna as she locked the door behind Benedict _._ She leaned against it, panting. _  
_

Benedict regarded her for only a moment before roughly pulling her into his arms and giving her a searing kiss. He pressed their bodies as close together as he could without hurting her. 

_No, Benedict! I’m not looking to fool around in the bathroom for God’s sake!_

_Isn’t she the horny one! My God, do we have time to get each other off before pudding? We could lie on the scatter rugs so we won’t have the cold tile floor to contend with or we could just take turns…  
_

Benedict’s erotic thoughts were interrupted when Donna abruptly pushed him away from her. She turned on her heel and rushed over towards the vanity. 

“Playing hard to get, you cheeky girl,” he chuckled in his deep baritone as he made to grab her again. 

“I’m not playing, Ben!” insisted Donna, sidestepping his advances. 

Benedict stood looking her over with his hands on his slim hips. He looked momentarily confused. 

“Why in the hell did you drag me in here and lock the door then?” 

“Because I need to show you something!”

Benedict smiled lasciviously at her and quickly closed the gap between them. He ran his hand up her dress, playfully squeezing her bum. 

“And I’d love to see it.” He began to tug at her knickers, but Donna swatted his hand away.

“Please stop so I can show you already!” 

Benedict shrugged and sat down on the closed lid of the toilet. 

_I love when she teases me. She fancies me as much as I fancy her, bless her. I’ll play along._

“Why don’t you come here and show it to me then,” he said, patting his thigh and winking suggestively at her. “I’m up for anything…actually I’m partially up.” 

Donna rolled her eyes, picked the napkin out of the sink and showed it to him. 

“What’s that?” Benedict asked, getting to his feet. As he got closer, he recognized the soiled serviette. “What in the fuck is all over it?” he asked in alarm. 

“My waterproof makeup,” replied Donna, voice quivering. 

“I believe the claim of waterproof was a false advert.” 

“I can’t let your mother see it!” 

“I agree. This belonged to my Gran Pauline. It’s been in the Cumberbatch family for years. Mum treasures those serviettes.” 

“What am I going to do, Ben? I need to try and wash the stain out!” cried Donna. “But I can’t just use hand or bath soap!” 

Benedict stroked his chin as he contemplated their options for a moment. 

“I know just the thing. I’ll be right back. Mum keeps a bottle of liquid detergent for delicate items in the laundry room. I’ve seen her soak the serviettes in it rather than toss them in the washer.” 

 

 

Several minutes later, Benedict returned holding a small white bottle of liquid detergent. He waved it at her triumphantly. 

“The instructions say to apply the detergent directly to the stain, gently rub it in and allow it soak in warm water for fifteen minutes. I’ve seen her get chocolate stains out of these serviettes, so I’m sure it can handle makeup.” 

Donna let out the breath she had been holding. 

“You’re a life-saver, Benedict Cumberbatch. I owe you one.” 

Benedict smiled smugly at her. “I’ll take a rain check when we get back to my flat. Now, off you go and join the others while I sort this out. I heard them say since it’s so hot Mum’s decided to serve pudding up on the roof. You know where the stairs are. I’ll be up as soon as I’m done.” 

 

********************************************************

 

 Donna left the bathroom and mounted the flight of stairs leading to the rooftop garden. She pushed the door open and walked out onto the roof. A rectangular-shaped outdoor table had been set for dessert with the same linens and pretty floral-patterned china that had been used downstairs. Everyone was gathered around the table except for her and Benedict. Once again, to her dismay, Donna found herself beside Heather. 

“Where’s Ben?” Heather asked, feigning innocence. 

“Umm…in the bathroom. He said he’ll be right up.” 

“I told you they were snogging in there,” Heather stage-whispered to Emily, who clapped her hand over her mouth to suppress a giggle. 

Tracy smiled at Donna. “When my brother says he’ll be right there, that actually means anywhere from ten minutes to half an hour.” 

“Don’t I know,” laughed Donna. “He definitely runs on a different clock from the rest of the world.” 

“Fancy some tea, Donna?” asked Timothy, indicating the teapots to his left. “It’s my special brew.” 

“Yes! I’ve been looking forward to trying it. Benedict always talks about how good it is,” replied Donna passing her teacup and saucer over to him. 

“I can’t wait to taste your cheesecake,” said Jennifer. “It looks so yummy.” 

“I hope you like it,” said Donna. “I baked it last night so it would have time to chill.” 

_And now it’s going to melt in this heat. At least it isn’t as bad as downstairs. If I ever had to move into Benedict’s apartment, the first purchase is going to be portable air conditioning units for all the fucking rooms._

Donna’s hand automatically searched for the napkin. 

“Didn’t you bring up Donna’s serviette, Jenn?” Wanda asked her granddaughter. 

“There wasn’t one at her place,” replied Jenn. “I thought she had it.” 

_Damn. It’s downstairs being laundered by your uncle is why._

“I’ll go down and get it,” said Donna, jumping up from her seat. “It must have fallen to the floor when I got up.” 

“And while you’re down there, please try and see if you can extract Benedict from the loo,” chuckled Wanda. “He’s been in there for an age.” 

 

***********************************************************

 

Several minutes later Benedict Cumberbatch had successfully gotten the stain to wash out of the delicate linen napkin. He blotted it in between two towels to remove as much excess water as he could and examined it closely. 

_Excellent! Looks as good as new. Well done me!  
_

Benedict folded the serviette and pushed into his front pants pocket. He ventured out into the hallway where he could hear laughing and talking from the roof garden. _  
_

_Hmmmm…they are all upstairs. I wonder if the computer is still on._

Benedict jogged down the hallway into the lounge area. The computer printer was busily spitting out Emily and Heather’s term papers. 

_This is my golden opportunity. Shall I? I think I shall!_

He quickly ducked into the kitchen and found it empty to his delight. 

_Good! They’re all up on the roof – even Donna. I won’t have long though. I need to make the most of the little time I’ve got._

He sat down at the computer desk and looked back once over his shoulder to make sure no one was around. The screen showed a montage of photos from the Mediterranean cruise his parents had taken last winter with his godparents. 

_I see the Hampstead webcam photos are no longer being used as a screensaver. Mum or Dad must have deleted them. I know they won’t be in any of the photograph folders. However, let’s see if I can still retrieve them.  
_

Benedict typed in the last known password, but it didn’t work. 

_Fuck. Mum changed it again. Now, let me see…the last two she used have been birth dates. I’ve gone through all the various combinations. What in the hell would she be using now? Ah, let me try names. She hasn’t used names in a long time._

Benedict typed in: wandatimben and hit enter.  Nothing happened.  

_FUCK! That was one of her favorites._

Benedict next typed in: tracyderrickemilyjenn and hit enter.  Again, nothing happened. 

_DOUBLE FUCK! That was her other tried and true password._

Benedict tried several more name combinations but nothing came up. 

_Perhaps Mum has moved on in order to stump me.  
_

He sat impatiently tapping his long, slender fingers on the desktop as he considered what he thought would be logical password combinations that Wanda would use. After twelve tries, he leaned back in the chair in disgust. 

_Oh. I didn’t try their anniversary! Let’s hope I remember the date._

Benedict typed in: wandatimothy27.04.76 and hit enter 

All the desktop icons suddenly appeared, allowing Benedict access to the computer. 

_Brilliant! So, now she’s using names and dates!_

Benedict began to quickly browse through the various photo albums, but there was nothing to be found. _  
_

_Just as I suspected. One of them must have deleted those photos!_

Benedict went to the recycle bin and opened it. He was rewarded with the discarded photos of the Hampstead web cam. 

_Hello! I can always count on Dad to forget to delete the files in the recycle bin, bless him. Mum is much more thorough about covering her tracks. Now, let’s see what we have here._

There were a lot more photos than Benedict had originally spied that night on the computer screen. _  
_

_Web camera my arse! Only one person could have taken those photos and that’s Dad. That’s me and Denise Black! This one is of Emmy and her picnic date. That’s the pasta stall at the Parliament Hill Farmers Market._

“What are you looking at so intently?” inquired Donna Saint James’ voice from directly behind him. “Can I see?”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. There will be no chapter posted next week due to Easter. Happy Easter to all who celebrate!
> 
> 2\. Richard and Judy was a British daily chat show, which ran during this time period. It ended the summer of 2009.
> 
> 3\. John Steed and Emma Peel were the two lead characters in the popular spy series, The Avengers, which ran from 1961 thru 1969, starring Diana Rigg and Patrick Macnee. 
> 
> 4\. I actually had the Yorkshire pudding described as a side dish on Xmas Eve at The Fifth Season in Port Jefferson, NY. It was then the catastrophe scene with Heather and the puddings was born.


	83. Chapter 83

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 6 of Sunday Lunch with the Cumberbatches concludes. Donna and Adam finally meet face-to-face. 
> 
> Note: I’ll be using ********* to indicate things happening at the same time.

 

 

Benedict Cumberbatch spun around so fast in the swivel chair that his knees knocked Donna off her feet and into his lap. He looked as if he had been caught with his hand in the proverbial cookie jar. 

“For fucks sake, Donna! You could have at least announced yourself! You scared the shit out of me!” 

Donna combed down his auburn hair with her fingers. She could see the guilty look in his eyes, which appeared green in the lighting, and frowned slightly at him. 

“Why? Are you doing something you shouldn’t be like hacking into your parents’ computer?” 

Benedict’s face noticeably reddened. “Erm…I wanted to check my email from here.” 

_No you weren’t! You are being nosy, just like I would be if I were in your shoes._

Donna regarded him with a raised eyebrow. “I think you’re guilty of snooping.” 

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck. “I have…access to their passwords in case of an emergency.” 

_That sounded plausible, Benedict. Well done me._

_That makes perfect sense, only Wanda and Timothy are both fine, so why would he need to get into their personal computer? He definitely doesn’t want me to see what he’s looking at. If he jiggles that leg of his underneath me anymore, I’m going to get seasick.  
_

“Does this constitute an emergency? You don’t look upset, just like someone who got caught snooping.” 

“I wasn’t snooping, and you’re right. There is no emergency. I was just being curious about something in my email is all…..” 

“Let me see what you were looking at that was so interesting you didn’t hear me coming,” Said Donna trying to look over his shoulder. “It must be _very_ interesting if you didn’t hear me coming.” 

Benedict spun them around in the chair without warning so Donna was no longer facing the screen. 

“What in the heck are you doing?” 

“Erm…nothing…I was just having a little fun with you! Wheeeee!” Benedict laughed as he again used his feet to spin the chair around two more times in quick succession. 

“Please stop, Ben! You’re making me dizzy!” squealed Donna, hanging onto his neck. 

_Well done me! Mission accomplished.  
_

Benedict had stopped so that she was once again facing away from the computer screen. Then he looked into Donna’s hazel eyes. He could see that she was still suspicious of his actions. 

_I can’t tell her that one of my more shameful hobbies besides the occasional online viewing of porn is hacking into my parents’ computer so I can conduct my own investigations. She’ll think I’m an awful person. Especially if it turns out I’m wrong…but something tells me I’m not._

Benedict shoved his hand into his pocket and drew out the still damp serviette. He unfolded it so Donna could examine his handiwork. 

“What do you think?” 

“I would never have known it was stained. Excellent job! You can do my laundry any day.” 

_No woman has ever said that to me. Mum always did my laundry when I lived at home. Olivia forbade me from ever touching our laundry after the ‘pink incident’. I had no idea about colour transfer until that day. She never told me that I should have washed that new red t-shirt separately. I figured everything could be washed together. Anna insisted I do my own laundry in my own flat. It wasn’t like I broke her dryer on purpose. How was I to know that it was too small for that blanket? I was able to cram it in with the clothes. It was a jolly good thing the fire department came quickly that day!_

“They must be missing us by now. Why don’t you go up then,” said Benedict, gently prodding Donna’s backside as a hint for her to get up. “I’ll follow you as soon as I turn this off.” 

Donna got up and folded the napkin. “Well, at least it doesn’t appear wet. Heather will be watching me closely though. She knows I got it dirty.” 

Benedict reluctantly stood and looked longingly at the screen. 

_I only had a few more to look at when she interrupted me. Damn it!_

“Holy cow, Benedict! Look at your jeans! They are going to think you came in your pants!” exclaimed Donna. She covered her mouth and pointed to his crotch. 

Benedict looked down. The water from the damp napkin had seeped into his jeans from his front pocket and spread to the crotch area. 

“Arrrgghhh!” he growled in frustration. “I didn’t get all the water out of the motherfucking thing. I was afraid of wrinkling it if I squeezed it too much.” 

_What a time for him to suddenly develop a fear of wrinkles!!!_

“Didn’t you feel the dampness?” 

“No. I was too wrapped up in finding…my emails. It’s too late to do anything about it now,” he said with resignation. 

“They’re going to think we’ve been fooling around down here! I can’t have your parents think that about me!” 

“They would actually be quite chuffed to find out I’m getting… something,” he chuckled. 

_Hmmm…well they know you got at least one blow job._

“I don’t think it’s that noticeable, Donna. The sun will dry my jeans once I get upstairs. I’ll make sure to angle my chair so my crotch is in the sun.” 

“So you plan to sit backwards at the table?” Donna snickered. 

“No! I’ll just make sure my chair is facing the right direction to catch the sun on the lower half of my body.” 

“Everyone is already seated, so you’ll have to sit in one of two empty chairs, which are both facing the hotel.” 

“Briliant. That would be the right direction to catch the afternoon sun.” 

Donna turned to head towards the hallway when one of the photos on the computer screen caught her attention. She sidestepped Benedict to walk around him and leaned over the desk to study the photos. 

“Hey! That’s us! And that’s me at the Tomato Stall…and that’s you with …a woman who I sort of recognize…and you’re hugging and kissing her,” observed Donna, feeling a flash of jealously. She turned and shot Benedict a questioning look as worry began to pool in her stomach. _  
_

_Oooo Donna’s sounding a bit jealous about Dee. Let me assure her there’s nothing to worry about._

“That’s Denise Black. Surely you recognize her yes? We were in _To The Ends of The Earth_ together. She’s the lady I was carjacked with.” 

Donna’s face immediately softened. “That’s why she looked familiar.” 

“I ran into her the first time you came to my flat for dinner. She was going to visit her niece, who was in hospital. We had a nice, long catch up lunch, which is why I wound up making that...last minute pudding for you.” 

“This one is of your niece, Emily! It looks like she’s going on a picnic. Are these from a webcam?” 

“ _Supposedly_. I’ve been told that its purpose is to attract tourism to Hampstead.” 

“One of your parents seems to have done screen captures off the live feed.” 

_Screen caps? I never considered that possibility,_ thought Benedict. _If it were true, then that is how Dad would go about making the montage I saw. However,there are two things wrong with that scenario. One: Dad’s not the computer-savvy one in the family and Two: when I checked there was no such webcam set up for the Borough of Camden or Hampstead Village._

“Holy cow, Ben! That’s me buying a jar of that delicious heirloom tomato jam!” 

Benedict leaned over her shoulder, his arms on either side of her with his hands resting on the desktop. 

“It appears to be you, yes.” 

“And that one’s of me, too…oh for God’s sake…” 

“…kneeling on the ground picking up cherry tomatoes with the stand owner,” finished an amused-sounding Benedict as he adjusted the view so as to get a closer look at the photo. “Hmm…that display basket is empty and half hanging off the table. How did the tomatoes wind up on the ground? How in the hell did that happen?” 

Donna remained silent. Then she sighed heavily. 

“It’s a long story, Benedict. Let’s just say my handbag played a featured role in a little mishap with one of the tomato display baskets.” 

“Bloody hell! Is that why Emmy got those tomatoes so cheaply that day? You knocked over the display with that monstrosity of a handbag you insist on lugging around all the time?” 

Donna cleared her throat. “Yes. You might say that.” 

_Emily was there as well as Timothy that day. She must have seen me at the market – that would explain why I look so familiar to her. Good grief!_

“Remind me not to go to market with you then!” 

“That’s us across from the tube station,” said Donna, pointing out the photo. “Remember? You walked me as far as the station.” 

“Something’s not right here….” Frowned Benedict. 

“Uncle Ben! Donna! Where are you guys?” 

_Shit! It’s Jennifer! I need to close that file now before she tells Mum what I’ve been up to._

Donna’s eyes landed on a photograph of her and Adam right after they had collided at the market just as Benedict looked over his shoulder. His hand hovered over the mouse. 

_Can’t have you seeing this one, Ben Honey! It’s bad enough Adam’s going to recognize me tonight. I’ll deal with one potential disaster at a time.  
_

Donna shoved her small hand under his and clicked the mouse. The screen returned to the montage of vacation photos. 

_OH my God! That was a photo of Adam and me when we ran into each other. Benedict didn’t have time to see it – thank goodness. I have my doubts those photos were taken from a web cam stream. Timothy must have taken those photos while following me around the market! Benedict obviously had an idea he did that and wanted to see for himself.  
_

Benedict’s ice blue eyes returned to the screen, which was now showing a photo of his parents and godparents enjoying drinks on the balcony of his parents’ stateroom. 

_What the fuck?_  He frowned at Donna, who shrugged. 

“Thought I’d give you a hand,” she said with an innocent smile. 

Benedict closed the recycle bin. “Let’s see just how good your secondary school drama teacher was. We’re going to improvise so follow my lead!” 

He abruptly spun Donna around, held her against him and began to kiss her as if his life depended on it. Donna followed his lead and wrapped her arms around him as she returned his kisses. 

_Oh, my honey is such a good little kisser. I don’t need to improvise. My heart will guide me. Ahhhhhhh! I love how minty he always tastes…oh this is heavenly.  
_

“My God, you taste so good, Ben!” 

“Hold me tighter,” he whispered. 

“I can do that,” she sighed. 

“Yes, like that!” 

Donna reached down and groped his firm, plump backside. Then she slid her hand in between his waistband. 

“You’re wearing underwear!” snickered Donna, running her hand under the soft cotton to squeeze his bare bottom. “Nice…very, very nice. I love your butt,” said Donna. 

“Stop that, before I start getting stiff!” 

Donna moved her hands upwards and started to run her hands through his thick, curly auburn hair. 

_God, not my scalp, Donna. Please don’t start with my hair follicles or it’ll be all over. Where in the fuck is Jenn? Looking in all the bedrooms no doubt._

“Mmmm…I love you, Sweetheart. Take it easy… _please_.” 

“Here you are! Bloody hell, Uncle Ben! Stop snogging Donna and come upstairs now. Gran’s getting annoyed!” scolded Jennifer, entering the room. 

Donna and Benedict reluctantly pulled away from each other and managed to look properly embarrassed, as they pretended to straighten their clothing and smooth their hair. Jennifer looked pointedly at Benedict’s crotch. 

“Holy crap!” she said in disgust and did an abrupt about face. “I don’t even want to know!” 

“For fucks sake! She thinks I came in my jeans,” cried Benedict, as he heard her footfalls on the stairs. “Just what I didn’t need.” 

Donna’s eyes roamed over Benedict’s crotch. She noticed a slight bulge. 

“I’ll take her aside later and explain what happened with the napkin or if we wait a bit I’m sure Heather will tell her,” said Donna. “Heather’s good at puzzle solving.” 

“Yeah. She’s too good. I wish she hadn’t come with Emmy, but there was no choice in the matter…erm…I just need a minute…to shut down the computer.   Go on up, I’ll be right behind you,” he unbuttoned his jeans and shoved a hand down the front in order to adjust himself. 

“The computer has been on since I got here. It will tip them off that you were snooping if you turn it off. I’d worry about turning yourself off if I were you,” she quipped. 

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck. “It wasn’t snooping. Really it wasn’t, Donna. It was simply a case of…” 

“Curiosity,” finished Donna. “You can’t fool me, Benedict. I know all about the fine art of curiosity.” 

Benedict laughed and gave her a hug. “Yes, I suppose you do. We make some pair, don’t we?” 

“I think we make a grand pair. Now, let’s make the best of it and join them shall we?” suggested Donna. “I’m looking forward to trying your sister’s bread pudding.” 

“Hers is almost as good as Mum’s,” commented Benedict as they walked down the hallway towards the stairs. “Mum serves hers with this lovely custard sauce over it.” 

“By the way, how was my improvisation technique?” 

“You get major props for a job well done, Love.” 

“You, too. No one has ever kissed me as thoroughly as you do, Benedict. I can feel your love in every kiss.” 

“Actually, I was acting that time. I was too nervous to have any sort of romantic thoughts or feelings at that moment. My sole purpose was to distract my niece.” 

“Then how do you explain that bulge you had in your jeans? I thought you told me you just can’t inflate and deflate it on cue. Seems I was wrong,” snickered Donna. 

Benedict playfully swatted her bottom as he opened the door to the stairwell. “I said I just can’t deflate a boner on command.” 

“Well, your plan certainly worked. She was totally floored to find us in that state,” chuckled Donna as they climbed the stairs. She paused to look back at him over her shoulder. “Are you sure you were acting the _whole_ time?” 

Benedict nodded and held up his hand as if taking an oath. “The whole time. I swear.” 

“So, your penis was acting, too?” 

“My penis has a mind of its own and often works independently, especially where you are concerned.” 

Donna looked back at Benedict and gave him a huge smile as she opened the door leading to the roof terrace. 

_You were getting aroused, Benedict. You love when I play with your hair like that. That wasn’t all acting. I don’t care what you say._

“Well, you are both fine actors. I bet someday one of you will be nominated for an Oscar!” 

 

*******************************************************

  

Jennifer Peacock burst out onto the roof terrace and ran to the table that had been set up for pudding. The conversation ceased as the whole family regarded her with curiosity. 

“Did you find them or do I have to ring Scotland Yard?” queried Timothy. 

Jennifer shook her head vigorously as she took her seat next to Tracy while catching her breath. 

“They were snogging in the lounge...and stuff.” 

“Couples in love often snog, Jenn,” laughed Tracy. “Dad and I used to when we were dating.” She and Derrick exchanged a loving smile, as he patted her hand. 

“You still do,” giggled Emily. “I think it’s very romantic.” 

“Not like this! Their hands were all over each other,” continued Jennifer, shaking out her serviette and placing it in her lap. 

“Not a surprise,” said Emily. “I used to catch him snogging Olivia all the time!” 

_Tim and I used to catch them doing more than that_ , thought Wanda with amusement. _I remember the time they were shagging in my Mini-Cooper. Poor Olivia didn’t come around for a good month after that.  
_

_I remember the time I caught Ben shagging Olivia while she was sat on the washing machine,_ thought Timothy. _I still can’t fathom how he was able to do that. Lord knows I couldn’t do it._

“I think there was more going on besides snogging!” continued Jennifer in a confidential tone. “Uncle Ben’s jeans looked a bit…well…wet…” 

“Shush!” commanded Wanda as the door to the roof garden opened. 

 

******************************************************

  

It had been a long walk to the outdoor table, as Donna Saint James felt all eyes upon her and Benedict. 

_Look at their faces. She told them what Benedict and I were doing. I was hoping she wasn’t going to share that. I was hoping we were only going to scare her away._

“She told them she caught us making out,” Donna said under her breath to Benedict, who was behind her with his hand resting on the small of her back. 

“That _is_ what we intended. Just sit down and act as if nothing happened.” 

“One of us didn’t intend for her to come up and broadcast to everyone. It was just supposed to make her run upstairs.” 

“And that it did. They’re not going to interrogate us for fucks sake. We’re adults. Now, please sit down,” instructed Benedict in a brusque tone as he held the chair out for her to sit. “You worry too much, _Sweetheart_.” 

_Ah the sarcastic version of Sweetheart rides again._

Donna settled herself in the chair and surveyed the desserts that had been set out on the table. She had been too preoccupied with the tea to notice them earlier. Then she had gone down in search of Benedict. There was a glass oblong baking dish containing what appeared to be bread pudding and a silver tray holding individual glasses of chocolate mousse topped with dollops of whipped cream and chocolate shavings. A crystal pitcher held what appeared to be a crème anglaise for the bread pudding. Her cheesecake had been placed on a silver pedestal cake dish. 

_These all look so good! I adore chocolate mousse and bread pudding. Yum yum! I love that Wanda made individual portions of the mousse.  
_

“Here’s a hot cup of tea, Donna,” said Timothy, as he poured Donna a fresh cup and handed it to her. “I emptied the first one.” 

“He drank it and gave you a clean cup,” whispered Heather. “They don’t let anything go to waste in this flat.” 

“Thank you. This smells amazing! What is it again?” 

“It’s two parts Earl Grey, one part Lapsang Souchong, which is a richer tea that balances out the lighter notes of the Earl Grey,” replied Benedict as he accepted a cup from Timothy. “Dad makes the best tea.” 

Donna picked up her cup and allowed the heady fragrance to fill her nostrils.

She was suddenly aware of being watched by the others. 

_Jeez Louise! They’re waiting for me to review Timothy’s tea! This is going to make me nuts._

Benedict was staring at her expectantly while unconsciously tapping his fingertips on the tabletop. Wanda was gazing at her over the rim of her teacup. Timothy was biting his lower lip as he stirred a lump of white sugar into his tea. 

_Timothy actually looks concerned that I won’t like it. I’m not a huge fan of Lapsang Souchong, but I have to give it a try. Benedict has been bragging about this special concoction of his father’s for quite some time now, so there must be something to it. Benedict’s taste is very similar to my own. Bottoms up!_

“What a pleasant surprise! I never thought these two teas would complement each other, but they do,” mused Donna as she set down her teacup. “The Earl Grey cuts the smokiness of the Lapsang Souchong, which can be overpowering on its own, so a little goes a long way. I like that I can still distinguish the bergamot. It has a nice, smooth mouth feel, followed by a slightly smoky then fruity finish. Honestly, I never thought of combining the two varieties. It is a truly complex and excellent blend, Tim!” 

_Dad is just chuffed as fuck! Look at him! Donna could be a tea sommelier,_ thought Benedict proudly _. Except she can’t make a good cuppa worth a damn herself, which I find quite the giggle – unless I’m the poor sod who has to drink it._

Timothy beamed at Donna’s compliment. “Thank you. I cobbled it up one day when Wanda was complaining that Lapsang Souchong on its own reminded her of a barbeque.” 

“And you cobbled brilliantly, Love,” said Wanda flashing an approving smile at Timothy who responded by blowing her a kiss across the table. 

_Tim is just bursting with pride that I praised his special brew, and rightfully so. He’s actually blushing from my compliment. He and Wanda are so cute together._

“What do you fancy, Donna?” asked Wanda. “Tracy made the bread and butter pudding, and I made the chocolate mousse. I’m sure you’re acquainted with your delicious-looking cheesecake, which I can’t wait to have a slice of.” 

_Will they think I’m a pig, if I ask for both? I’m sure they will be expecting me to review both. What the hell!_

“I’d like to try a little bit of both, please. Ben, would you care to split the mousse? I’m getting full.” 

_No, I want my own; but I’ll compromise and split it. I have to watch what I eat for Sherlock anyway. I’ve got costume tryouts and fittings coming up soon._

Emily smiled widely. “I’m going to have everything!” 

“That’s exactly what I was planning on doing!” Laughed Heather. “Now, I won’t feel like a total cow.” 

“Tracy, since the bread pudding is closest to you, would you mind serving it up? Donna, would you mind serving the cheesecake since its right in front of you? I’ll just pass around the mousse,” said Wanda. 

_Behold the majesty of the Commander in action_ , thought Timothy wryly. 

“Not at all,” said Donna. “Who would like cheesecake?” 

 

******************************************************

  

Heather and Emily exchanged worried glances as Donna picked up the cake server and prepared to cut wedges from the cheesecake. 

“I hope she doesn’t notice!” whispered Emily. 

“Your gran did a good job. I can’t tell the difference,” whispered back Heather.   

_Here we go,_ thought Benedict, as he began to rub his thigh. _Now we’ll see just how good Mum’s camouflage technique was.  
_

“I’ll have a small piece of cheesecake, please,” said Benedict. “I need to save room for some of everything.” _  
_

Donna picked up Benedict’s plate as she went to make the first cut. _  
_

_Thank goodness Wanda’s cake server has a serrated edge. That will make it easy to cut. Why in the hell are his nieces watching me so closely? Heather looks as if she’s going to burst. Emily just whispered something to her. As a matter of fact, every one of them except Derrick is watching me. He’s too busy eating the chocolate mousse. Thank goodness I positioned the pecans so it will make it easy to cut the portions.  
_

Donna paused, cake server in hand and Benedict’s plate in the other, as she stared at the top of her cheesecake _.  
_

_What the hell? There should be twelve pecans on this cake, yet I only see ten.  
_

_She’s noticed that there are two nuts missing,_ thought Benedict _. I knew she would notice.  
_

“She figured it out,” hissed Emily to Heather. “I knew she would.” _  
_

Tracy spooned some of the bread pudding onto a plate and handed it to her mother. They exchanged worried looks. 

_She’s noticed there are less nuts than she started out with. Damn!_ Thought Tracy. 

_And I can’t even blame this one on Heather,_ thought Wanda _. This was Emmy and Tim’s doing!  
_

Donna tried to steady her hand, which was trembling slightly from being observed so closely. _  
_

_Benedict is rubbing his thigh, which means he’s nervous. Something happened to those nuts, and he knows what. Jesus Christ! I hope they didn’t drop my cake and tried to fix it up. Emily just said something else to Heather. Let me just cut the damn thing and be done with it.  
_

“Here. Let me help you, Love,” said Benedict trying to take the plate from her hand when he noticed it trembling. “You need two hands for that.” _  
_

Donna turned a frosty eye to Benedict. “Thanks, but I’ve got it, Ben.” She deftly cut into the cake and watched in dismay as it immediately fell off the cake server onto the tablecloth rather than his plate as her hand shook. 

“Hahaha! This is just like that night at the Grand Imperial when you were so excited about the fried rice that you got it all over the table!” giggled Heather. “Donna wasn’t paying attention that night either and scooped the bloody rice onto the table rather than her plate. It was quite the pile, too! I swear it was enough to feed three people. Benedict wound up helping her eat it because she realized she took too much.” 

_Thank you for insinuating in front of everybody that I was being a pig, Heather_ , thought Donna angrily. 

_My poor tablecloth!_ Thought Wanda. _Looks like I’ll be spending my evening soaking the stain out of it. That’s what I get for using Pauline’s vintage linens around Donna. Pauline musts be turning in her grave, bless her. From now on I must remember to use my polyester tablecloths whenever she comes around for Sunday lunch.  
_

“Oh, Wanda! I’m so sorry!” cried Donna. “Allow me to send it to the dry cleaners. I’ll pay whatever it costs. There’s an excellent dry cleaners in Paternoster Square…” 

Wanda raised her hand. “It’s fine, Donna. Not to worry. I have a special detergent made for vintage linens. It’s never failed me yet.” 

“What happened to the serviette?” Heather asked Donna in a low voice as she scooped the cheesecake off the table onto her plate. “Like the Cumberbatch motto, I can’t let this go to waste.” 

“I got the stain off,” hissed Donna, as she managed to serve Benedict a whole piece without dropping it.   This time she let him hold the plate for her. 

“Oh, this is so good it’s ridiculous!” exclaimed Heather. “You were right, Emmy. These nuts are amazing.” 

Donna’s eyes darted to Emily, who immediately looked down at her chocolate mousse as if it were the most fascinating thing she had ever seen. 

_I know the look of guilt when I see it. I guess that explains where those two nuts went. To Emily’s stomach._

“They were delicious,” agreed Timothy. “Did you make those Donna?” 

_Timothy, too? Holy shit – Wanda just shot him a look that could kill. Seems they both were picking the nuts off my cake. How charming is that? Nona would be appalled at such behavior and would have slapped their hands. That explains all the commotion in the kitchen. They ate the nuts off my cake and were trying to fix it so I wouldn’t notice.  
_

Donna felt Benedict’s hand pat her leg urgently underneath the table. 

“Please say nothing,” he said under his breath. “They meant no harm.” 

 

****************************************************

  

Wanda Ventham took a bite of the turtle cheesecake and groaned with pleasure. 

“Oh my God! This is just heavenly! This is one of the best turtle cheesecakes I’ve ever had, Donna! It is truly scrumptious. It has such a nice, velvety mouth feel!” 

_‘Nice velvety mouth feel’? My wife has been watching too many cooking shows on the telly,_ laughed Timothy to himself. _She wants to impress Donna with her ‘foodie vocabulary’._

“Mum, I think we forgot the cheese plate,” observed Tracy, looking around the table. “It must still be on the counter along with the fruit.” 

“I’ll get it,” said Benedict quickly getting to his feet. 

“I have to tell you, Donna, that this rivals the best bakery or restaurant cheesecake I’ve ever had,” commented Derrick. “It’s solid without being too heavy, yet it’s not too light. It’s the perfect consistency. I think it’s better than the one you buy at Borough Market, Wanda. Don’t you agree, Tracy Love?” 

Tracy nodded as she swallowed a large bite. “Mmm…this is much better than the one at Borough Market. It has a creamier texture. Those nuts are to die for. They add such a pleasing crunch.” 

“I like the chocolate and caramel swirls inside,” chimed in Jennifer. 

“The little chocolate chips and bits of nuts in the crust are just genius,” remarked Heather. “I never would have thought of doing that.” 

_Listen to them! They are all reviewing my cake! This is so cute.  
_

_Bloody hell! None of them speak like this! They all must be watching the cooking shows_ , thought Timothy. _I think I feel a tad left out.  
_

“Your bread pudding is outstanding, Tracy,” said Donna. “It’s so moist and buttery. Not at all like a brick. There is nothing worse than those heavy, dry, dense bread puddings…” 

_Hmmm…my mother’s was heavy and dense,_ thought Timothy. _I used to love it like that._

“I call that sturdy, rather than heavy and dense,” he retorted. “My late mother, bless her, used to make it like that; and I found it delicious. It wasn’t the least bit dry.” 

_Shit. I didn’t know that_ , thought Donna worriedly. _Now, Tim’s insulted on behalf of his late mother, who I never even met!  
_

“Oh, for fucks sake, Tim! Your mother never made a bread and butter pudding in her life. She had the bloody cook to do it for her!” Wanda scoffed. “Please forgive him, Donna.” 

_You’re wrong, Wanda! You weren’t in the picture when I was a small._

Timothy pulled himself up and challenged his wife. “I beg to differ, Pet. You weren’t around when I was growing up and used to watch her make it. It was in Mum’s later years that she passed on the recipe to Mrs. Stoddard to make for us.” 

_Jeez Louise!_ Thought Donna. _I hope they don’t start arguing over this. Where in the hell is Benedict with that cheese plate? Let me continue with my review._

“The layer of custard is silky and not watery at all. Do you bake it off in a bain Marie, Tracy?” 

_Who in the hell is Marie?_ Thought Timothy, as he finished his cheesecake. _She must host one of those cooking shows. I need to pay more attention to them so I can join in these conversations._

Tracy nodded. “Yes, I do. It also helps it to cook evenly. 

“I have to ask you, Donna, did you _really_ bake this?” inquired Heather around a mouthful of cheesecake. 

“Fancy some cheese, Heather?” asked Benedict as he seemed to swoop down on the table out of nowhere to offer the platter to Heather. “Try the chevre with some of the dried currants and honeycomb.” 

Donna felt herself bristle at Heather’s words. 

_How about that? The little bitch has the nerve to imply that I didn’t bake my cheesecake. I most certainly do take offense!  
_

“Thanks, Benedict,” said Heather as she helped herself to some cheese and fruit. “I mean no offense, Donna, but it looks almost too perfect.” 

“It’s too late, I’m afraid. Offense already taken,” said Donna sharply. “Heather, are you insinuating that I didn’t bake this cake?” 

Benedict caught the flash of anger in her eyes and felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. 

_Shit! Donna’s about to lose her temper. I need to short circuit this before this escalates any further._

“Just ignore her,” Benedict whispered in Donna’s ear. 

_Easy for you to say, Benedict. Your baking skills haven’t been insulted._

“I believe Heather means that your cheesecake looks very professional,” elaborated Wanda. “Didn’t you, Heather?” 

Unfortunately, Heather would not be deterred. She shook her head. “No, Mrs. Cumberbatch. I mean that it looks like a professional baker made it. You can tell us, Donna. Which bakery did you buy it at?” 

Donna blinked at Heather and started to open her mouth to give a caustic response when Benedict nudged her foot with his. 

“Please, Donna. She’s not worth your time,” he whispered urgently. 

_Oh no, you don’t, Benedict! I realize you want to maintain the peace, but I will not let this go. I will not have your family thinking that I did any such thing. Heather needs to be taken down a couple of pegs._

“For your information, Heather, I didn’t buy this cheesecake at a bakery. I made it myself last night. It looks professional because I took a course at the Cordon Bleu in Paris the summer I graduated high school,” said Donna proudly. “Not to brag, but between that and learning from my mother and grandmothers, I would venture to say I’m a fairly accomplished cook in my own right.” 

“Donna’s a brilliant cook!” chimed in Benedict. “She could have her own restaurant.” 

“You’re too kind, Ben Honey.” 

_Christ! I love when she calls me that.  
_

“I…I… thought you just ate and wrote about food,” stammered Heather, face scarlet. “I had no idea you could actually cook, too. I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings.” _  
_

_Be gracious Donna, don’t hold a grudge. She apologized in front of everyone,_ thought Benedict. _  
_

“I hope this will teach you not to jump to conclusions without knowing all the facts first,” said Donna. “Apology accepted.” 

Benedict visibly slumped in his chair and sighed. He smiled at Donna with gratitude in his ice-blue eyes. 

_He’s happy I didn’t wipe the floor with her. I can understand him not wanting a scene. This is supposed to be a meet-the-family lunch after all.  
_

Donna noticed that Emily was furtively watching her from under her eyes. 

_I wish she would stop watching me like that. She recognizes me and is trying to figure out from where._

Emily suddenly looked up from her plate with an excited expression on her face. 

“The market! Now, I know why you look so familiar, Donna! You were the one who knocked over the tomato display at Parliament Hill Farmers Market. Don’t you remember, Grandpa? It was the Tomato Stall! We were laughing at the right mess she made.” 

“There are some things better kept to oneself, Emmy,” said Timothy gently. 

_And I will keep it close to the vest that it was her first collision of the day. She doesn’t need to know I witnessed her bumping into Ben’s mate later on._

Donna felt her face redden. “Yep. That was me. It was an accident. My handbag was on a collision course with the display basket,” she joked in an attempt to make light of the incident. 

_Actually, it was the first accident I had that day, but they don’t need to know about Adam._

“And it was captured for all posterity by the elusive Hampstead Village webcam,” added Benedict sarcastically as he looked from Wanda to Timothy. 

Neither Wanda nor Timothy acknowledged Benedict’s pointed barb. They both continued eating as if nothing had been said. 

_Now, I know what was taking him so long downstairs. He hacked into our computer, bless him,_ thought Wanda. _I wonder if Donna caught him in the act?_

_My cheeky son knows full well there was no such webcam. It was only a matter of time_ , thought Timothy grimly. _Donna must have caught him red-handed. I suppose Wanda could quiz her later, but on reflection it is probably best to let sleeping dogs lie for the time being._

_No rebuttals then?_ Thought Benedict. _Your mutual silence speaks volumes, Mum and Dad.  
_

Donna picked up her teacup and took a sip as she glanced around the table. 

“Why don’t you pick up the cup and saucer together?” asked Heather, adjusting her blue glasses on her nose. 

“Um…because this how we do it in America – for the most part,” replied Donna, self-consciously. “My father’s dad is English, and he picks up the cup and saucer whenever he drinks tea. My dad only does it some of the time. My parents didn’t teach me to do that, so I don’t.” 

_Jeez, she’s a pain in the ass! I never really paid much attention to it. When Benedict and I are at each other’s apartments we use mugs. Now that I think about it, Benedict always picks up both when we go out and Wanda and Tim as well. I never realized how I must stick out like a sore thumb until now.  
_

“It’s just a cultural difference,” said Wanda pleasantly. “There’s no wrong or right way to drink tea.” 

“Actually, from what I’ve read there is,” interrupted Emily. “Catharine of Braganza came up with the rules, so to speak. You’re supposed to hold the teacup with the saucer so it will catch any drips or crumbs.” 

“Thank you for bringing that to our attention, Emmy,” snapped Benedict dismissively as he picked up the platter to help himself to a piece of fruit. “Heather, it would behoove you to mind your own manners rather than those around you.” _  
_

“Actually, I was taught that if one is seated at a table, the proper manner to drink tea is to raise the teacup only, placing it back into the saucer in between sips,” smiled Timothy. “So, Donna is using perfectly fine tea etiquette, as you call it, Emmy.” 

“Grandpa’s posh, so he’d be the one to know!” laughed Jennifer. 

“Please do whatever makes you comfortable, Donna,” added Wanda. “We don’t stand on ceremony in this flat.” 

“Well, I’m glad that’s been sorted to everyone’s satisfaction,” declared Tracy. “Anyone for fruit and cheese then?” _  
_

Benedict selected a firm, yet ripe pear and cut it into four wedges. He automatically gave Donna half along with a selection of the cheeses. 

_It’s a Comice pear! I love those! There so big and juicy! Hmmm…he cut the wedges too big to fit in my mouth. Should I use my hands to eat them? They’re all using knives and forks, so I think I’ll be a lady and use mine, too._

Donna began to eat her fruit and cheese when Heather piped up from beside her once again. 

“Do all Americans eat like that?” 

_I wish she would just lose her motherfucking voice,_ thought Benedict _. This is why she doesn’t have a boyfriend._

“Like how?” asked Donna, clearly perplexed. 

“You keep putting down your fork and knife in between bites. It seems so much wasted effort to always lay your knife across the plate while you eat with one hand.” 

“It’s the custom, Heather,” said Benedict, voice dripping with irritation. 

“Well, I’ve never been across the pond,” retorted Heather defensively. “I only go by what I’ve seen on the telly and in films.” 

“Not all Americans eat like this, but that’s how I was taught to use my utensils,” explained Donna. “My English grandfather eats continental-style like you do.” 

“I think our way of eating is more efficient,” mused Heather. 

Benedict glared at Heather. “My, your cheekiness knows no bounds today, Heather.” 

“Heather!” exclaimed Tracy. “Did you check your manners at the door today?” 

“Sorry. I didn’t mean any harm, Donna. That’s how I am. I just say what comes into my head. My Mum and Dad always say I’m brutally honest.” 

“You’re brutal alright,” quipped Benedict. “To the likes of which I’ve never seen and hope to never again.” 

_Oh, Benedict. This is nothing. Just wait until you spend more time with the Neil and Toni Show. Heather will seem like a little lamb to you_ , thought Donna glumly. _They are the epitome of brutal._

“I actually like you, Donna,” said Heather sadly. “I hope you can forgive my many faux pas today. Maybe one day we can be friends.” 

Donna smiled at Heather. “Perhaps one day we can all go out and get to know each other better over afternoon tea. As a matter of fact, you should all come. We can make it a ladies day out.” 

“Oh, yes!” exclaimed Wanda. “What a lovely idea, Donna.” 

“Brillilant! Count me in!” said Emily, grinning widely. 

“Me, too!” added Jennifer, clapping her hands together. 

“What a splendid idea!” added Tracy. “We can go to the Savoy! They serve the best in London. Has Benedict taken you there yet?” 

Donna looked at Benedict, who shrugged. “Not yet. We’ve both been so busy.” 

“Then that is where we must go,” said Wanda with finality. “We always take afternoon tea at the Savoy.” 

“We take Benedict every year on his birthday,” added Timothy. “It’s become a Cumberbatch Family Tradition.” 

“Just let me know when, and I’ll be there,” smiled Heather. “As I said before, I really do like you, Donna.” 

“Jolly good then! I can now die happy that you approve my choice of a girlfriend,” snorted Benedict sarcastically. “It’s getting late, and Donna and I promised to babysit for Adam and Alice.” 

Benedict rose and pulled out Donna’s chair. She folded her napkin and placed it beside her plate. 

“Oh, do you have to go so soon?” inquired Wanda, clearly disappointed. 

“Yeah. We do, Mum. It’s their anniversary, and I swore I wouldn’t be late. They’ve got a dinner booking at Barbecoa.” 

“Hey! Your lap is all wet,” Heather laughed as Donna stood up. “You look like you peed yourself.” 

Donna looked down at her dress aghast. _Shit! She’s right! The fucking napkin was still damp._

Heather unfolded the napkin and examined it. “Oh, good, you got the stain out. Well done you.” 

_What stain?_ Thought Wanda. 

“It was nothing, Mum. Just a bit of makeup is all. I helped Donna wash it out,” said Benedict, gently prodding Donna in the small of her back. “We really must go _now_.” 

 

 

 

After making their goodbyes, Benedict and Donna hastily left the Cumberbatch flat in Kensington and headed back towards Hampstead. 

“We’ll stop at my flat so you can use my blow dryer to dry your dress,” said Benedict while turning onto Kensington High Street. 

“Phew, that Heather sure is something,” quipped Donna. 

“Something horrible is what she is,” added Benedict. “She’s such an annoying little cunt.” 

“Annoying? Absolutely! However, in spite of all that, there’s something amusing about her.” 

“Amusing?” Benedict scoffed. “She’s amusing like a toothache is amusing. What drugs are you on? She pissed you off several times this afternoon or did you forget already?” 

“No. She did piss me off.” 

“Well then?” 

“I’ve come to realize that Heather doesn’t mean any ill-will, Ben. She just doesn’t have a mouth filter, which is something I think you should be able to relate to. She just blurts out whatever’s on her mind at the moment.” 

“Karon, my PR lady always accuses me of doing that in interviews,” chuckled Benedict. “She claims I’m a PR nightmare.” 

“Well, I’ve never read or seen one of your interviews; but I can tell you that you do it all the time.” 

“Not one of my better qualities,” admitted Benedict with a sigh. “I do think I’m getting better at filtering though.” 

“I think you are, too. I actually kind of like Heather when all’s said and done. There is something endearing about her spunkiness.” 

“Don’t get too attached to her, because I’d never consent to inviting her to our wedding. When the time comes, that is.” 

“How much further is it to Adam and Alice’s?” 

“Oh, another fifteen minutes or so. They live fairly close to my flat, so you’ll still have time to dry off your dress first.” 

Donna nodded to herself.   _Not much time left before I come face-to-face with Adam._ _I wish I could predict how he’s going to react to seeing me again._

 

********************************************************************************************************** 

 

Alice Ackland hurried down the stairs to find her husband in the lounge. Adam was gazing out the large bay window that over looked the street in front of their brick row town house in Hampstead. Their nine-month old son, Jonathan, was sitting in his playpen busily stacking and unstacking colourful, chunky plastic rings on a dowel. Alice had just finished dressing and was excited about going out to celebrate their third year of marriage. 

“Any Benedict sightings yet?” Alice inquired as she approached Adam, high heels clacking on the polished wooden floor. 

“Not yet. But to be fair, he’s still got plenty of time.” 

“He’ll get here just in time for us to leave then,” chuckled Alice, as she leaned over the playpen to check her son’s nappy. “Good. Still dry,” she said more to herself. Jonathan babbled happily at his mother and offered her one of his plastic rings to stack. 

“Maybe Ben will fool us today,” said Adam hopefully. “Our booking’s for half six. I moved it per your suggestion in case he is late.” 

“If he shows up by six, I would consider that his gift to us. The gift of being on time for once! I’m actually wishing he comes soon so we have time to meet his girlfriend. I don’t know about you, but I’m dying to meet the woman who captured Benedict’s heart.” 

“Yeah, I’m also curious to meet her. He’s kept her a secret long enough.”

Adam turned away from the window to face his wife.   He looked her over from head to toe and nodded his approval at the snug black dress and high heels she was wearing. Her long blonde hair was pulled back in a French braid. 

“My God, Ally, you still have the power to take my breath away,” he said softly, as he walked over to take her into his arms for a gentle kiss. “You look smashing!” 

Alice felt herself blush at her husband’s compliment. “You’re making me blush, Adam. How sweet of you to say so. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’re trying to pave the road to getting laid tonight.” 

Adam grinned at her and tried to act bashful. “So how am I doing so far?” 

“Let’s see: two dozen long-stemmed white roses, breakfast in bed, this beautiful diamond bracelet, lunch at the Stag followed by a romantic stroll on the Heath with our snoozing little angel, capped off by dinner at Barbecoa. I’d say you were doing a brilliant job so far.” 

“I hope it hasn’t been overkill,” said Adam, biting his lower lip. “I’ve never done this much for our anniversary before, but I felt it was special because it’s our first one since Jonathan came into our lives. It just feels extra special this year, and I wanted to show you how much our marriage means to me.” 

“You are a very sweet man,” whispered Alice as she palmed his cheek. A tear escaped the corner of her eye and rolled down her cheek. 

“Now, you’re making me blush!” Adam said softly, wiping the tear away with the pad of his thumb. 

Alice noticed that his voice sounded a bit hoarse and his bright blue eyes suddenly looked watery. 

“You’re a good man and an even better husband and father, my Love.” 

Adam wiped at his eyes with a handkerchief he hastily pulled out of his pocket. “For fucks sake! I’m getting to be every bit as soppy as Ben is! I have to stop hanging out with him.” 

“At least not until tonight is over yes?” teased Alice. “He’s our bloody babysitter!” 

“And it sounds like he just arrived,” observed Adam as they heard a car door slam outside. 

“It’s them!” said Alice, looking over Adam’s shoulder. “She looks dark-haired and tiny. Would you help me with the catch, Love?” she asked handing him the dainty yellow gold bracelet with diamonds that Adam had given her earlier. 

Adam deftly fastened the bracelet around her wrist and smiled approvingly as he admired it. 

“It looks lovely on your wrist.” 

“My husband has brilliant taste,” smiled Alice as the doorbell rang. “Today has been such a treat for me. I forgot what it was like to go out all dressed up. It makes me feel very…I don’t know…pretty…” 

“You _are_ pretty. In fact you’re more than just pretty. You’re gorgeous and ever-so-sexy.” 

“These heels make me feel sexy, I must admit.” 

“Sexy enough to get me some extra special lovin’ then?” asked Adam eagerly as he went to the door. 

“The odds of your getting some extra special lovin’ are overwhelmingly in your favour,” replied Alice with a wink. “As long as Jonathan cooperates, I’d say it’s a sure thing.” 

 

****************************************************

  
Donna and Benedict stood outside on the front steps as they waited for someone to answer the door to the Ackland residence. 

_This is still a very nice area though not as nice as where Benedict lives. These houses are all very similar. There is more variation of architecture in the Parliament Hill section, and it seems to be a much more moneyed area. Ben’s got quite a few celebrities living in the area immediately surrounding his house…not that I’ve seen any yet. All I see are luxury cars parked there with their parking permits and reserved spaces. This area seems more middle class and less pretentious. I wouldn’t mind having a house here._

“I decided to go for less house in a somewhat more elegant neighborhood,” commented Benedict as if he could read her mind. “I can’t imagine living anywhere else but Parliament Hill.” 

_Grandpa Colin would have said: ‘Your boyfriend lives in a posh neighborhood, Donna.’ Dad would think Benedict is a bit of a showoff. Mom would immediately want to redo the house from the ground up.  
_

The door suddenly swung open to reveal a smiling Adam Ackland clad in a crisp white dress shirt and tie. He was wearing black dress trousers and smart black leather shoes. He was every bit as handsome as Donna remembered. 

“Hello! Come in, come in!” he said warmly as he stood back for Benedict and Donna to enter. “Welcome to Chez Ackland.” 

“Hi Ben!” called out a pretty, blonde-haired woman who came to stand by Adam’s side. 

Donna noted that the woman was also dressed up to go out in an elegant, simple black dress and high heels. The woman was much taller than Donna with the heels. 

_And this must be Adam’s wife, Alice. They make a very handsome couple. My hair is longer now, maybe he won’t recognize me._

The two men embraced and Benedict hugged and kissed Alice on both cheeks. 

“You look fetching tonight, Darling,” Benedict said to Alice as he stood back in order to make introductions. “Happy Anniversary to you both.” 

“Thank you,” Adam and Alice echoed in unison. 

“Donna, these are my best friends, Adam and Alice Ackland. Adam, Alice, may I present my girlfriend, Donna Saint James.” 

Donna and Adam’s eyes locked as they appraised each other. She could see the flicker of recognition in his bright blue eyes. 

_He definitely remembers me, and not in a good way. His face says it all._

_Bloody fucking hell! This is Donna??? She’s the girl from the market and Paternoster Square! She’s done something with her hair…it’s longer than I remember. I can’t believe this!_ Thought Adam, mind racing. 

_Why is Adam staring at Donna like that?_ Thought Benedict. _I’ve never seen him look so rattled, and Donna looks as uncomfortable as he does. Could they have met before tonight?_

“How nice to finally meet you, Donna!” exclaimed Alice, clasping Donna’s hand in hers. “Ben has told us so much about you that I feel as if I already know you. Adam and I are huge fans of your column.” 

“Thank you so much, and it’s so nice to finally meet you, too, Alice,” said Donna with a smile. “And I also feel as if I’ve know you both forever. What a gorgeous bracelet!” 

“This was Adam’s anniversary gift to me.” 

Benedict stepped closer for a better look. “Indeed it is. Well done you,” he said to Adam. “Wear it in good health, Alice.” 

“I was totally caught off guard by it. He served me breakfast in bed, and there it was sitting on top of a stack of the most delectable blueberry and banana pancakes. I was so surprised!” 

“Aren’t you the innovative one, you wanker,” teased Benedict. “You raise the bar punishingly high for me.” 

“I can’t take the credit for the pancakes. I drove down to Giraffe and got a takeaway order while Ally was sleeping. All I did was slide the whole thing onto a plate and arrange the bracelet in a circle on top of the pancakes.” 

“I think that’s one of the sweetest things I’ve ever heard, Adam,” said Donna with a smile. 

Adam saw Benedict watching him out of the corner of his eye with raised eyebrows. 

_Ben knows this is not the first time I’m seeing Donna. How shall I handle this? She knows it’s me, but for some odd reason she’s pretending that this is the first time we’ve met.  
_

_Shit! Adam’s obviously trying to decide whether or not to say anything about me. I wish I could get him alone, but it doesn’t look likely. Benedict keeps watching us under his eyes. He’s got an idea that Adam recognized me. Adam didn’t do a very good job of hiding his surprise.  
_

“Come and meet our son,” Alice said to Donna as she led the way into the bright and airy lounge. She stooped over the playpen and picked up the strawberry-blond haired baby boy. “Donna, this is Jonathan. He just turned nine months Tuesday.” 

“Hello, Jonathan,” said Donna softly. She smiled at the baby as he studied her and touched his small, chubby fingers. “Aren’t you a little cutie pie?” 

“He looks just like his pa, the poor little bugger,” laughed Benedict. 

“Uncle Ben needs to stop teasing daddy, doesn’t he?” Alice said to Jonathan.   “You’re handsome just like your daddy! And when you’re grown, you’re going to break a lot of hearts!” _  
_

“I definitely think you’re right,” agreed Donna, as Jonathan pulled at her diamond stud earring. 

“Be careful, he loves jewelry,” warned Alice. “I had to stop wearing earrings around him.” 

“How’s my godson?” asked Benedict, taking the baby from Alice and cradling his in his arms. 

Donna watched as Jonathan cooed at Benedict and pulled his nose as Benedict nuzzled him and kissed his cheeks. Jonathan was apparently very happy to see his godfather and very comfortable with him. 

“He’s getting so big – and heavy! What in the hell are you feeding him, Ally?” 

Adam half-listened to the chatter surrounding him as he tried to decide what to do about Donna. 

_I think it best to dive right into the pool and get it over with. I’ll acknowledge that we’ve met before and let it go at that. Hopefully, she’s not the type who will feel compelled to elaborate and mention the flirting part._

Adam smiled tightly at Donna. “I don’t know if you remember me, Donna, but we’ve met before.” 

_Shit! He not only remembers but is also going to tell the tale. I really hope he doesn’t reveal that I was flirting with him. I’m going to pretend I forgot for the time being._

Alice and Benedict both momentarily regarded their partners with curiosity. Benedict had been rubbing noses with Jonathan eskimo-style and stopped in order to hear what Donna had to say. 

“How do you know each other?” asked Alice. 

Benedict Cumberbatch regarded his best friend and girlfriend with a quizzical expression. 

“This is news to me. Would either of you care to fill us in?” 

_No, I don’t, Ben. I think I’ll leave it to Adam and follow his lead. I’ve been doing so well with improvisation so far today, why not continue!  
_

_Looks like the cat’s got her tongue. She’s waiting to hear what I’m going to say,_ thought Adam. _I’ll just keep it simple._

Benedict watched as Donna and Adam’s faces both turned red. Donna kept staring at his friend expectantly as she waited for him to reply. 

_They are both acting very oddly. Ally sees it, too. I can tell by the expression on her face,_ thought Benedict. 

“You can say that we literally ran into each other a couple of months ago at Parliament Hill Farmers Market while I was shopping on a Saturday,” Adam chuckled. 

Donna took a minute to ponder Adam’s words. 

_Okay. He’s going for the truth. Make Mr. Hawkins proud, Donna. Feign slight surprise, followed by a bashful smile directed at Adam._

“Oh, my gosh! That _was_ you! So much time has passed so I wasn’t completely sure it was you.” 

_Donna’s going to run with this. So far, so good. I hope to hell she doesn’t mention that I was flirting with her. If she does, there will be no foreseeable shagging in my future.  
_

“Yes, I definitely remember us bumping into each other.” 

Adam gave a relieved laugh. “I don’t think ‘bumping’ does it justice. It was more like I literally bowled you over. Remember, Ally, I told you all about it. It happened on that terribly hot day?” 

Alice suddenly clapped her hand over her mouth and began to laugh. “Oh my God! Yes! How could I forget that?” 

“I was rushing around the market like a madman trying to get home in time for lunch, and I came around one of the stands like a bat out of hell and – POW! I knocked poor Donna to the ground.” 

“I still have to take half the blame,” said Donna. “I was busy on my cellphone and wasn’t watching where I was going.” 

Benedict frowned at Donna. “You never told me about that.” 

_Oh no. Barrister Ben is preparing to begin a cross examination,_ thought Donna. 

_I’m fucked. Barrister Ben is about to make an appearance_ , thought Adam. 

_For fucks sake, Benedict. You’re going to start questioning that poor girl. I’m going to stop him before he has the chance to start,_ thought Alice. 

“It wasn’t anything to make a fuss about, Ben,” laughed Alice. “Neither of them was paying attention, and they ran into each other. They lost the contents of their market baskets, and it was quite comical the way Adam told the story is all.” 

“Perhaps you’ll regale me with the story, then,” said Benedict, eyes boring into his best friend. 

“Well. There really isn’t all _that much_ to tell,” began Adam hesitantly. 

_Not now he won’t_ , thought Alice. _I’ve got a dinner booking that I’ve been looking forward to for a good month, and I intend to be there on time._

“And we really don’t have time for stories,” said Alice, looking pointedly at the grandfather clock that stood beside the stairs, which led to the second floor. “Let me give you a tour, Donna, so you’ll know where everything is. Adam, be a love and get the drinks and nibbles, so we can have a chat before we have to leave. Ben, I’ll leave Jon in your capable hands.” 

_I love my wife, bless her,_ thought Adam as he turned to go to the kitchen. _The wanker’s_ _going to take Jon and follow me into the kitchen so he can question me. Maybe Jon can help get me out of this._

“Be back in a tic, Ben. Umm…do me a favour and check the status of the nappy yes?” 

“Of course.” 

All of a sudden, Benedict got an unpleasant whiff of feces as he put his nose to the baby’s bottom. 

_Shit. Literally._

“He desperately needs a nappy change. I’ll take care of it.” 

_That’s my boy!_ Thought Adam Ackland with great relief and amusement as he disappeared into the kitchen alone. _Surely an actor in the making._ _How many actors_ _can boast that they_ _can poo on cue?_

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I have no idea how long Adam and Alice have been married, so I’m going to mess with my own time line to fit with the plot line. I also have no idea where they live, except it is nearby Benedict. I've also made Jonathan older to fit the time line.
> 
> 2\. My daughter and I tried Timothy’s special brew after reading about it in one of Benedict’s interviews, and it was surprising delicious. Note that it can't be done with tea bags. You need loose tea to get the ratio right. 
> 
> 3\. Would love to hear from my UK readers on the proper way to handle a cup of tea. I've heard many conflicting things, but actually never noticed while in London. Do you hold the saucer or not?
> 
> 4\. Bain Marie is a water bath used to cook a pudding or other 'sensitive' dish made with eggs so they don't curdle or cook too quickly. It also causes the dish to cook evenly. The dish is placed in a slightly larger one and hot water is poured into it to ensure even cooking at a constant temperature.


	84. Chapter 84

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Confessions abound at the Acklands. Benedict and Donna babysit. Benedict's broodiness surfaces. 
> 
> Note: I’ll be using *************** to indicate things happening at the same time.

 

 

“And this is Jonathan’s nursery,” said Alice Ackland, opening the door with a flourish to reveal a beautiful room done in a whimsical jungle theme.

Donna stepped into the room and marveled at the beautiful hand-painted animals that adorned two of the walls. There was a mother and baby giraffe on the wall beside the crib with a large leafy tree that had a lion sleeping on a branch while a toucan watched over him. The adjoining wall depicted a friendly-looking gorilla sitting on a tree limb. _  
_

_Holy cow! It must have cost them a fortune to hire an artist to do this!_

“Oh my! What an adorable room, Alice! I love the mural with the animals! Did you hire a professional artist to do it?”

Alice smiled at Donna. “Benedict did it for us. It was part of his gift to us. He asked us what theme we fancied and took it from there.”

Donna examined the exquisitely detailed work carefully.

_My honey sure can paint! The workmanship is impeccable._

“Wow! I am truly floored! I knew Benedict got an art scholarship to Harrow, and he’s mentioned how much he enjoys painting...but I wasn’t prepared to see something of this caliber!”

“So this is the first time you’ve seen his work then yes?”

Donna nodded. “I had no idea just how talented he is!”

“When you use the downstairs loo, be sure to check out the hand-painted border of pansies. Ben did that, too. You’d be surprised how handy he is, Donna. Ben’s been paramount in helping Adam fix up this place. He’s helped all his mates work on their homes at one time or another. He’s quite the handy one.”

“I never would have thought that in a million years,” mused Donna.

_That’s good to know for the future. Roy couldn’t manage to hammer in a nail straight._

“Mr. Cumberbatch paints, cooks and can take on any household chore with minimal fanfare and fuss. He’s absolutely wonderful with children, and a doting godfather,” said Alice. “Oh, and he’s a brilliant dancer.”

“All true words,” agreed Donna. “And so far he’s proven to be quite skilled in the bedroom.”

Alice folded her arms across her chest and regarded Donna with a raised eyebrow.

_Why did I say that? Now, her curiosity is peaked thanks to my big mouth.  
_

“Well, _that_ I can’t vouch for!” Alice giggled nervously.

_Though I’ve always been curious as to what he’s like in bed. Olivia never talked about what happened in their bed, unlike me. Maybe Donna’s the type to swap war stories with. It would be nice to have a boudoir confidant.  
_

Donna’s face reddened slightly. “To be honest, Alice, we haven’t been _together_ in that way yet. I’m just going on…you know… other… things we’ve done.”

_Turn your mouth filter on, Donna, and keep the damn thing on. Benedict would never tell Adam what goes on between us._

“OH! You two are going to Cornwall for a shagging holiday then!” Alice giggled again. “I was wondering what Ben meant when he told Adam he needed to take a laid-back holiday. I was just coming down from upstairs, and they were having quite the giggle over it. At first, I could have sworn that Ben had corrected Adam and said it was literally going to be a ‘getting laid on my back’ holiday. Then I thought I must have heard wrong and that he meant a quiet, relaxing holiday. Of course Adam insisted that I had it all wrong.”

“You thought he said a ‘laid back’ holiday,” mused Donna. “Actually, it is a vacation for Benedict. I’m there to work. My editor has assigned me to review a special Gastro Holiday the resort is sponsoring. Six nights of expensive, unique, gourmet dinners all featuring foods that were locally sourced in Cornwall.”

_Honey thinks he’s going to lie back and relax while I do all the work and ride him apparently. Let’s hope that was simply male bravado talking._

“I’d fancy getting paid to eat all that lovely gourmet food!” exclaimed Alice. “Now I get it. Ben did mean he’s planning on spending his holiday getting laid. Ugh! Those two tits think they’re being so clever all the time!”

_Okay. Adam’s the bedroom confidant. I shouldn’t be surprised. They are best friends after all. Carly’s been mine up to a point. She tends to not be as open as I am about sex talk...well I am now since I’ve been with Benedict. He’s loosened me up quite a bit. Maybe Alice and I could be confidants one day. I really like her._

“Are you two talking about me?” inquired Benedict as he entered the room with Jonathan in his arms.

“As a matter of fact, yes, we were,” replied Alice with a smirk. “Donna was just marveling at your brilliant artwork, and I was talking you up about what a great help you’ve been to Adam with fixing up the house.”

Benedict’s cheeks reddened slightly at Alice’s words.

“You embarrass me, Mrs. Ackland; yet at the same time, you know what a tart I am for praise.”

“And you’ve earned every word of it, Ben! This place would still be in a shambles had you not been so generous with your free time in helping us.”

“It was my pleasure,” said Benedict warmly. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for my dearest friends.”

“You paint like a professional artist, Benedict. This is amazing,” said Donna, marveling at the delicately painted leaves on the tree that adorned the wall over the changing table.

“I’m glad you like it,” smiled Benedict, cheeks reddening even more. “I only wish I had more free time to paint. One day I hope to have a proper studio up in my loft.”

“Hmmm…I think I can smell why you’re here,” sniffed Alice. “My son is very regular.”

Benedict chuckled and nodded. “Yeah. He’s definitely in need of a nappy change, so I came up to use the changing table. Adam’s getting the drinks together.”

“Give Jon to me then,” said Alice, holding out her arms. “You don’t officially go on godfather duty until we leave the house.”

“Well in that case, I’m going to pop into the loo,” said Benedict.

_Hmm…this is my opportunity to go downstairs and speak with Adam alone,_ thought Donna.

“I hope he doesn’t take too long. I suddenly have to use the bathroom, too,” remarked Donna. “I drank a lot of tea this afternoon.”

“Feel free to use the one downstairs,” said Alice as she placed the baby on the changing table. “It’s right off the foyer. You can check out Ben’s border at the same time.”

 

*****************************************************

 

Donna quickly made her way downstairs to find Adam in the kitchen pouring white wine into four goblets. He looked up when she walked in and smiled at her.

“Is Ben fighting Alice for the chance to change Jon’s nappy?”

“He was prepared to, but Alice insisted. I honestly think he was disappointed.”

“Not to worry. Ben will get at least two more chances before Jon goes to sleep.”

Donna suddenly felt uncomfortable and Adam did as well. The two of them eyed each other warily, trying to make up their minds as to what to say next. Finally, Adam was the one to break the silence.

“This is pretty awkward yes?”

“Yes. It is,” agreed Donna. “I really want to set things straight between us while the others are occupied elsewhere. There seems to be a horrible misunderstanding…”

“I’m so sorry about what happened at the market, Donna,” said Adam in a rush. “I honestly thought you were flirting with me, and I was so bloody flattered that I found myself automatically responding in return, which was wrong.”

Donna looked down at her feet for a moment and then back at Adam, meeting his gaze.

“Well, to tell you the truth, I was flirting with you a little, too,” said Donna, clearly embarrassed. “Then I reminded myself that I’ve got a perfectly wonderful boyfriend whom I love very much, so that’s when I said goodbye.”

“Bloody hell! I’m a married man, for fucks sake!” he cried, holding up his left hand so Donna could see the wedding ring adorning his finger.

Donna indicated Adam’s left hand with her chin. “You weren’t wearing your wedding band the day we met.”

_Christ! I forgot all about that little detail. I bet she really does think I was looking to pick up women at the market and took it off._

“I…um…put on some weight since Alice and I got married, and my ring got a bit snug so it was at the jeweler’s being re-sized.”

_That is a perfectly logical explanation. He looks a bit freaked out by all this._

Donna said nothing.

“I was an utter dolt to think that you were interested in me when you were obviously only being friendly.”

“I _was_ trying to be friendly, Adam. I was afraid you were angry with me for not watching where I was going.”

“As was I. I didn’t want you to be mad at me after knocking you to the ground.”

“At least we didn’t yell at each other. I’ve seen people get into arguments when things like that happen and didn’t want any drama.”

“True. I’ve seen some first class rows when people bump into each other.”

“You know, just because we’re in relationships with other people, doesn’t mean we’re dead,” laughed Donna. “Sometimes a little harmless flirting is beneficial for our self-esteem, don’t you think? You just said how proud and good it made you feel to find that a woman still found you attractive. I certainly was basking in your attention. Neither of us did anything wrong, Adam. I think we both need to stop beating ourselves up over this. You love your wife, and I love Benedict.”

“I love Ally more than life itself,” said Adam. “How lame did that sound?”

“It sounded like something a man in love would say about his woman.”

“And I _am_ a man in love.”

“Alice is a lucky woman, Adam.”

“Benedict is a lucky man. I’m glad you two found each other.”

“So am I,” smiled Donna.

“So we’re sorted out then? No hard feelings? No misunderstandings?”

“Absolutely! Now, we can both relax and work on our friendship,” said Donna.

_The only thing left for me to do is tell Ben_ , thought Adam.

 

 

 

An hour later, Benedict Cumberbatch and Adam Ackland sat in the back garden sipping Chardonnay. The two couples had moved Jonathan’s playpen outdoors so they could take some time to chat while enjoying a drink together.

“Let’s go inside, Donna, so I can acquaint you with the kitchen and go over Jon’s schedule,” suggested Alice picking up the baby. “Adam, be a love and bring the playpen in with you.

Adam nodded his agreement and watched while the two women retreated to the kitchen with the baby, leaving him and Benedict alone.

_Now might be a good time to tell him what happened at the market with Donna and me._

“The garden’s looking brilliant,” observed Benedict as he surveyed the new blooms that filled the wooden planters lining the perimeter of the small brick patio . “I like the addition of the hydrangeas mixed in with the snapdragons. Very colourful. Have you decided what to do with the rest of the space?”

“We’re going to leave the back of the garden all grass so we can add a swing and climbing set once Jon’s older. Maybe I’ll add some shrubs along the fence for privacy. My first and foremost goal is to keep it low maintenance.”

“You’ve got plenty of time for that, Mate,” remarked Benedict.

“I’m also lucky that I found a woman who loves a putter in the garden, as much as I do. It’s much more fun when you’ve got someone to work side-by-side with.”

“Hmm…I have no idea if Donna fancies gardening or not,” mused Benedict mostly to himself. “It’s never come up in conversation.”

“I could kill for a fag right now,” said Adam longingly. “Do you have any on you?”

“Nope. I’ve quit again, and I’ve no intention of starting up this time,” replied Benedict.

“Motherfucker. I could always count on you for a fix. It’s hard staying quit.”

“It’s bloody fucking awful,” agreed Benedict. “I’ve been chewing a lot of gum. I did cave and had a couple of drags last night. Then I realized I was only fooling myself and binned them.”

Adam nodded. “Whenever I feel a craving coming on, I just remind myself that I need to be around for my family. Having a child is a powerful motivator.”

“Agreed. I’m doing it for Donna’s health as well as my own. She’s highly allergic and has pledged her support to help me kick it, which I fully intend to take her up on,” said Benedict, taking a sip of his wine.

“To abstinence!” laughed Adam, raising his glass to Benedict.

“To abstinence!” said Benedict, raising his glass in turn.

Adam got up and began to fold up the playpen.

“So what do you think of Donna now that you’ve finally met her? She seemed to be getting along with Alice when I went up to the nursery earlier.”

_Ah. The moment of truth has come for you, Adam. Tell him, so there will never be a misunderstanding between us. Now, that Donna and I have had our little talk, I realize she wasn’t actually flirting with me that day. She was just being friendly and trying to put me at ease. Maybe there was a little flirting, but it’s nothing to get my knickers in a twist over._

Adam set the folded playpen against his chair and finished off his wine in one gulp. He looked at his best friend.

“I think she’s lovely, Ben,” Adam replied, shoving his hands into his trouser pockets while rocking back and forth on his heels. “And I know Alice must feel the same way. They’ve seen to have hit it off swimmingly.”

Benedict crossed his legs and took another sip of his wine as he regarded his friend’s behaviour.

_Adam seems a tad nervous. I wonder if there’s something he doesn’t like about Donna. He looks as if he wants to say something, but doesn’t quite know how to put it without offending me._

Benedict cocked an eyebrow at his best friend. “Do I sense a ‘but’ coming?”

_Ben’s fishing. I don’t want to give him the wrong idea. I need to just state the truth and hope for the best.  
_

“NO! Perish the thought! I truly meant it when I said Donna was lovely. In fact she’s a _very_ lovely person, and you’re a lucky man to have such an utterly lovely girl. She’s very pretty, has a cute sense of humour and is very easy to talk to. She’s just…just…lovely.”

_How many times has he used the word ‘lovely’ now?_

“That’s what attracted me to her – her sense of humour and her easy-going, friendly manner…once we got over the bumps in the road so to speak,” laughed Benedict. “Those bumps were quite intense! I’m so chuffed we were able to sort them all out.”

“Her friendly manner,” repeated Adam. “Yes, I found Donna to be… friendly…very friendly in fact. I found her so friendly that I misinterpreted her friendliness for something else that Saturday when we ran into each other at the market.”

_How many times has he used the word ‘friendly’ now? Why do I think Adam’s trying to tell me something?_

Benedict set down his wine glass and frowned at Adam. _What the fuck is he going on about?_ _It seems to me that their meeting at the market wasn’t all that brief._

“Maybe _I’m_ misinterpreting things, Mate; but it sounds to me as if this wasn’t the brief encounter you made it out to be. What exactly are you trying to tell me?”

Adam began to pace back and forth across the small patio, as his words came out in a rush.

“I was moving so fast, that I knocked poor Donna off her feet. I thought she had been hurt, but she just needed a bit of a rest to catch her breath. The force of our colliding had winded her. The guy at the cider stand saw what happened and brought over a cold drink for her. I stayed with her until I was certain she could get up and wasn’t hurt. We apologized profusely to each other and got to chatting as we picked up our belongings. It wasn’t a particularly long chat.”

“I see,” said Benedict, nodding.

_No. I don’t really, but I needed to say something. Let him finish his explanation._

Adam swallowed hard and continued. “I swear to God, Ben, I thought Donna was coming on to me; and my ego was stroked by it. I found myself flattered – and even a tiny bit proud - that a woman could still fancy me…I wasn’t wearing my wedding ring that day…it was still being resized at the jewelers and well, I was just so tickled…” Adam looked nervously back towards the door leading to the screened in sun room. “I found myself being… friendly… back to her.”

_So the other shoe drops. And they accuse me of waffling!_

Adam observed the mixed expression of curiosity and confusion on Benedict’s face. He threw up his hands in mock surrender.

“Alright then! Let me just call it what it was for the sake of expediency. In a word: Flirting. We were shamelessly flirting with each other. Well, _I_ was convinced she was, but now that I’ve actually spent some time with her and see how over the moon she is about you, I realize that she really was just being friendly. There was nothing more. It was simply a case of a married man trying to prove to himself that he was still attractive to another woman. I hope you can forgive me for acting the fool.”

Benedict rose from the chair and approached Adam. He clapped him on the back and started to laugh.

“You’re an utter nutter, Mate. You know that, right? Just because you’re married doesn’t mean you’re oblivious to the charms of other women. What’s the harm in a little flirting? Provided you don’t act on it, of course. You’re a handsome man in your own right, and I’m sure Donna found you attractive in turn, so she reciprocated. I don’t see anything wrong with that.”

_Thank heaven he understands! I never should have doubted Ben for a minute.  
_

“I was worried you’d get the wrong idea if you ever found out one day, so I wanted to get it out in the open.”

“I completely understand and do appreciate that you told me, but you worried for nothing. As you pointed out, Adam, flirting can be an extraordinary boost to the male ego, as well as quite fun in its own right. Hell, I’ve been known to do my share of flirting with the fairer sex even when I’ve been in a relationship. Remember Eve? We had some epic flirting going on between us for the whole run of _Hedda Gabbler_!”

_Hmmm…that wasn’t the way I remember it, Ben. I distinctly recall more than flirting going on backstage._

“That wasn’t just _epic_ flirting, Ben. That was called having an affair under Olivia’s nose and the whole cast and crew were privy to it.”

Benedict blinked at his friend in surprise.

_The wanker’s going to call me out on that now?! It wasn’t what he thinks! We discussed that years ago!_

“Olivia and I were going through one of our bad periods when that little… _indiscretion_ happened. I broke it off as soon as it looked like we were going to get back together.”

“The bad period began _because_ Olivia suspected you were fooling around with your co-star.”

“Oh, are you referring to that rumour one of the stage techs started for fucks sake?”

“Yeah. According to Olivia, she came round to surprise you in between the matinee and evening performance and found you and Eve in a compromising position in your dressing room.”

“Liv and I were already _on_ the rocks – well before rehearsals even started . I was in a frightfully broody state of mind at the time and suggested we marry as soon as the play’s run was over. She turned me down again, and it was causing major friction between us.”

“Not really wanting to play devil’s advocate here, but does having a series of domestics with your lover entitle you to embark upon an affair?”

Benedict squared his shoulders and set his jaw. “Liv and I weren’t _really_ together when that happened. We had mutually agreed to take a break from us. That afternoon, if you must know, Eve and I were doing a bit of rehearsing in my dressing room when Liv showed up.”

Adam smirked and pretended to think hard. “Please feel free to correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t recall a fellatio scene in _Hedda Gabbler_.”

“For fucks sake, Adam! That was a rumour! She was not in the act of servicing me when Liv walked in.”

_It was a damn close call though. Eve was on her knees and my trousers were already unzipped.  
_

_Olivia maintained that if she had arrived a few minutes later, she would have caught Eve with more in her mouth than chewing gum. Olivia would not have lied to Alice and I about something like that. I remember how upset she was and came to us in tears that afternoon. I also recall going over to the theatre and giving Ben a piece of my mind right afterwards. The bastard was damn lucky I didn’t deck him right in his bloody dressing room.  
_

“Eve and I were wildly attracted to each other, but were with other people who we wanted to remain with. So, we left it at flirting. There may have been a bit of snogging, but that was the extent of it. I swear. I never once cheated on Liv while we were together. I’m a faithful lover when I’m with someone!”

_Someone protests a bit too much here,_ thought Adam. _He knows that I know Olivia’s arrival along with a good dose of guilt were what prevented him from going through with the cheating. He came damn close, but didn’t act on it. I just need to give him one last reminder about the importance of fidelity._

“Just make sure you _never_ do anything like that to Donna or you’ll have me to account to. I’ve grown very fond of her in the very short time I've known her and from all you've told me. She’s exactly as you described her to Alice and me. I think she may even be too good for you, you tit.”

“My God, Donna’s my soul mate. She’s going to be my life partner…my wife and mother of my children one day. I’m utterly in love with her and would never, _ever_ entertain the mere thought of straying. I don’t fancy anyone else.”

“That’s comforting to hear, Ben, because if I ever hear of you pulling shit like that with Donna, I’m gonna knock you on your cheeky arse,” declared Adam, his blue eyes boring into Benedict’s. “Don’t cock this relationship up.” _  
_

_Oh, you wouldn’t have time to knock me on my arse. Her prick of a father would have the mafia uncle put out a hit on me,_ thought Benedict glumly. _I’d be at the bottom of the Thames before you could walk to my flat._

Donna came out onto the patio to take the empty glasses. “Alice says it’s time to get going, and not to forget the playpen.” She turned and retreated back into the sun room.

“Be right in,” said Adam as he gathered up the playpen. “I’ll set this back up in the lounge.”

“Shit! Damn door!” came Donna’s voice.

Adam and Benedict turned to see Donna’s sandal caught in the screen door.

Benedict grinned. “She didn’t realize how fast that damn door shuts behind you. I’m always catching my flip flops in it. I’ll adjust the spring while you’re out.”

Adam suddenly started to laugh as Benedict dislodged the sandal and they walked into the house.

“Remember that girl I told you about in Paternoster Square when I was having coffee with Granddad and your mum?”

Benedict began to giggle at the reminder. “YES! The one who dragged the fucking sandwich board around with her bloody foot. I remember I nearly weed myself when you acted out the story. Hard to believe someone would actually not take the time to untangle their foot immediately and then leave the shoe behind yes?”

“Not so very hard to believe. That was your Donna.”

 

***********************************************************

 

“They’ll be right in,” Donna said to Alice.

Alice spied Donna’s bare foot and shook her head.

“Don’t tell me. Your foot got wedged in the bloody screen door. I’m so sorry!” said Alice. “I’ve been after Adam to loosen the spring.”

Donna sighed. “I seem to have a penchant for these things happening to me. In other words, I’m a klutz.”

“You’re not a klutz, Donna. Sometimes things just happen to people. Adam told me about you getting your foot tangled with the sandwich board in Paternoster Square.”

Is there anyone in London who doesn’t know that story? Good gravy. And that was because I didn’t want Wanda or him to see me is why. I was rushing like a lunatic to get back into Carldonn before I was spotted.

“Jeez Louise! He told you about that? I’m just mortified…completely mortified.”

“Things like that can happen to anybody. If it makes you feel any better, I’m one of those people who is forever bumping into things. At our wedding, I actually bumped into the table holding our wedding cake and lost the top layer. The damn thing plopped right onto Adam’s shoes. It was a good thing we had already taken photos!”

_This is a woman after my own heart. I think we are going to become great friends. She gets it_ , thought Donna _.  
_

_I feel as if I just bonded with a long-lost sister. She understands about these things,_ thought Alice _._

“Oh how dreadful, Alice!”

“Yes, it was bloody dreadful! Unfortunately, my brother captured the whole thing on his camera for posterity and my future humiliation.”

The two women exchanged looks and burst out laughing.

“Missing something, Love?” asked Benedict, dangling Donna’s sandal from his index finger.

“I was going to go back for it. I had my hands full,” said Donna, sitting down at the kitchen table. She held her hand out for the sandal.

“I’ve got it,” said Benedict, kneeling down to slip the sandal on Donna’s foot.

“I feel just like Cinderella!”

Benedict smiled up at her. “And you make me feel like Prince Charming,” he said with a wink.

“I think I may be sick,” smirked Adam from the doorway. “I’m going to set this thing back up in the lounge and get my jacket, Ally. Then we really should be going.”

 

***********************************************************

 

Donna Saint James was very pleased that Jonathan Ackland had warmed to her and was allowing her to hold him. Alice was finishing showing her around the kitchen and reviewing the baby’s routine while Adam and Benedict had adjourned to the lounge. Donna made a funny face at the strawberry blond-haired baby, who made happy squeaking sounds at her.

“You’re such a little cutie pie, aren’t you?” Donna giggled.

Jonathan happily gurgled back at her and grasped a handful of Donna’s hair in his chubby fist in response.

_Oh, that hurts a bit. I hope he lets go soon.  
_

“I wish I knew what he was trying to say.”

“That makes two of us,” laughed Alice. “Most of the time we can figure out what he means. It just takes some practice.”

Alice shut the cabinet where she kept all of the baby’s things. She walked over to the refrigerator, and Donna followed her.

“I know you’ve just come from one of Wanda’s epic Sunday lunches, but I took the liberty of laying in some snacks for you two on the off chance you feel peckish later on.”

“That was very kind of you, Alice. I have to say I’m still stuffed from lunch. Wanda reminds me of my Nona. She cooks enough food for an army and no body leaves hungry. The only thing you leave with is a bag of leftovers with enough to eat off of for the rest of the week.”

“Wanda’s a right brilliant cook, she is. I wish I could say the same for my mum,” laughed Alice. “Adam and I always make sure to have a little something before we eat at my parents’ so we won’t be ravenous by the time we get home. My mum’s always been convinced that I have an appetite like a bird, but I don’t. I never had the heart, nor has my dad, to tell her that she’s an awful cook.”

“Have you ever considered taking a mother-daughter cooking class?” asked Donna. “You could give her the lessons for Christmas or her birthday and sell it as something fun you two could do together. It’s a win win. She learns to be a better cook while you get to have quality time with her and better meals.”

Alice considered Donna’s words as she opened the refrigerator.

“That’s a positively brilliant idea, Donna!   I never would have thought of doing something like that! I’m definitely going to do that for her Christmas present. Tomorrow I’m going to ring the Hampstead Cuisine School and get some information.”

The first thing that caught Donna’s eye was a tall ring cake, covered in fluffy whipped cream.

“Please feel free to help yourselves to anything in here or our pantry, except my angel cake. It’s for my dad’s birthday tomorrow.”

_Damn. I was hoping that was part of the snack she left. It looks so good._

“I’ve got some steamed prawns in that pink container and the cocktail sauce is in the smaller pink one. This white bowl has spinach and artichoke dip that you can heat up in the microwave. There are toasts in the pantry to go with it…”

“Ally! Let’s go before we’re late,” said Adam as he burst into the kitchen while shrugging on his jacket. “I don’t want to miss our booking!”

“We’ll be fine, Alice,” said Benedict. “Have fun and stay out as late as you fancy.”

"Remember to try the Peach-tinis!" added Donna.

Alice and Adam kissed their son goodbye and quickly made their exit.

Donna nuzzled the baby’s cheek, and he happily gurgled and pulled the fistful of her hair even tighter in response.

_Ouch! My God, that hurts like a bitch._

“Ben, he won’t let go of my hair. He keeps tugging on it – hard.”

Benedict laughed and walked over. He stood, hands on hips, studying the predicament Donna was in. The baby began to babble at him excitedly and waved his little fist with Donna’s hair still trapped in it.

_Owww. That hurts like a bitch. I hope Benedict can distract him._

“You’re a right strong one yes?” Benedict asked the baby, who cooed and pulled Donna’s hair once again causing her to wince openly.

“Oh, I can certainly vouch for that. He’s strong alright,” she said thru gritted teeth.

“This is why Alice always wears her hair up. He thinks it’s a game.”

“I don’t want to play this…ouch…game. Had I known, I would have.. ouch, ouch, ouch… put mine in a ponytail.”

Benedict reached out and began to tickle Jonathan’s bare foot. The baby began to chortle and let go of Donna’s hair in favour of Benedict’s nose. He took Jonathan from Donna, sat at the kitchen table and began to bounce the baby on his lap.

“Thank you! I was afraid I’d be bald by the time he was done playing with me.”

“You’re much better off playing with me,” said Benedict with a wink. “I’m not into hair pulling…unless it’s mine that’s being pulled.”

“Oh, really now! I’d be happy to come over there and indulge you.”

Benedict scowled at her. “You know what I mean.”

“I should start getting his dinner ready. Alice left me detailed instructions as to what to give him and what to do.”

“I don’t need instructions. I’ve done this many times before. I’m a pro when it comes to the care and feeding of smalls.”

“My goodness! Aren’t you the cocky one tonight.”

“Let’s not bring my cock into this shall we? I’m holding a child for fucks sake.”

“Whom you’re swearing like a sailor in front of, might I point out.”

Benedict looked aghast for a moment. “Shit. I didn’t mean to swear in front of him.”

“How about you two go play in the living room, so you can continue to teach him to swear while I get his food ready.”

“Piss off, Donna!”

Donna shook her head at him and pointed Jonathan, who bopped Benedict on the nose.

“See. He doesn’t approve of your swearing.”

“OH, for fu…fubar’s sake! You’re not preparing an epic feast here. It takes a minute or two at the most. You just pull that little three-sectioned plate out of the fridge, pop the bloody thing into the microwave and voila! Dinner is served. Right, Jon? It should only take silly Donna a minute to do that.”

_And now I’m silly Donna?  
_

Donna ignored Benedict and consulted the list of instructions that Alice had left her:

“Let’s see what this says: There is a little three-sectioned plate already prepared on the second shelf of the fridge on the right. Just warm it in the microwave for fifteen seconds. Give it a taste. The temperature should be lukewarm.”

Donna heard a snorting sound emit from Benedict behind her as if to say: I told you so.  

“Gosh, that baby sure is loud.”

“Isn’t he though,” snickered Benedict. “Do you still need for us to retire to the lounge while you conduct these intricate preparations?”

“Fuck you!”

“Oh crumpets! Did you hear what she said, Jon?” Benedict exclaimed from behind her. “Naughty, naughty Donna! I think she should be sat in the corner without any pudding.”

Donna whirled around as Benedict wagged a finger at her and gave her a mock stern look as the baby burbled and gurgled at her merrily while waving a large plastic rattle around.

“I thought you don’t condone swearing in front of children. You should practice what you preach, Love.”

_Don’t let him bait you, Donna. Spell the word out if you want to use it. I really want to use it._

“F-U-C-K you, Benedict Cumberbatch; and I mean it!” Donna snapped. “F-U-C-K you!”

Benedict pretended to look aghast, as he went about getting the baby settled into his highchair and tying the bib around his neck.

“Mmm…and the randy lady is preoccupied with even naughtier thoughts. I would love nothing better than to accommodate you, but I think we need to get the f-u-c-k-i-n-g food in the m-o-t-h-e-r-f-u-c-k-i-n-g microwave yes?”

Donna placed the dish in the microwave and set the timer.

“I have successfully taken care of my brother’s three kids without any issues whatsoever,” she huffed, glaring at Benedict.

“I hope to h-e-l-l you didn’t swear in front of them like you just did in front of my godson,” smirked Benedict, sitting beside Jonathan and wiping his hands off with a baby wipe. “That is not what I call setting a good example.”

“Shut the f-u-c-k up, Benedict. I mean it. One more smart a-s-s remark out of you...”

Benedict raised an eyebrow at her and leaned forward to give Jonathan a raspberry on his cheek. “And you’ll what?”

The microwave timer went off and Jonathan grabbed a fistful of Benedict’s hair and pulled for all he was worth.

“Yow! That hurts like a motherfucking bastard!” Benedict yelped, as he desperately tried to free his hair from the baby’s vice-like grip.

“Oh, Jonathan, let’s pretend we didn’t hear that awful display of cursing at its finest. Have you no sense of decorum, Benedict?”

“Cheeky b-i-t-c-h! Not any more than you do apparently!”

“Benedict! How can you curse like that in front of a child – let alone your godson! You’re lucky my Nona isn’t here. She would have washed your potty mouth out with soap.”

“First of all, I spelled bitch out. Secondly, I’m counting my blessings that your Nona is safely tucked away in the States,” grunted Benedict, as he gently pulled the chubby hand free. “Ah. That’s better. He sure can be a handful,” he said, rubbing his scalp. “For fucks sake, I think this time he actually pulled some out.”

“Excuse me, but I think _you_ need to sit in the corner, Godfather.”

Jonathan shrieked with laughter and threw the rattle, narrowly missing Donna.

“Holy sh…S-H-I-T! This kid is dangerous! Let me get some food in him.”

Donna returned to the table with the dish after making sure the temperature was just right. She and Benedict were sitting on either side of Jonathan, who was starting to get a bit cranky.

Donna picked up the spoon. “Shall I do the honors or would you like to?”

“He’s starting to feed himself with his hands,” replied Benedict as a glob of pureed spinach hit his cheek.

“It looks like he’d rather feed you,” quipped Donna.

“Shit! I mean s-h-i-t. He’s fast,” laughed Benedict.

Donna fixed Benedict with a look and took a bit of mashed potato on the soft-tipped spoon. He picked up the napkin and blotted the food off his face.

“Shame on Uncle Benedict for saying such inappropriate words to you,” said Donna as she fed Jonathan some spinach.

They both giggled as Jonathan seemed to relish the spinach and opened his little mouth for more.

“How cute is this? A baby who likes vegetables.”

“He’s not a huge fan of meats,” said Benedict. “I’d let him try using his hands.”

All of a sudden, Jonathan buried his fist in the meat and took aim, as Benedict leaned out of the way.

“Erm…Donna, if I were you, I’d duck.”

Donna dropped the spoon on the highchair tray as she saw it coming, but not soon enough to get out of the line of fire.

“OH! SHIT…SHIT…!”

“I think Aunt Donna meant to say merde!” laughed Benedict as a glob of pureed meat hit Donna’s chin and plopped onto her lap.

 

 

 

Benedict Cumberbatch and Donna Saint James snuggled on the couch in the lounge as they watched _The Shining_. After Donna had successfully fed Jonathan all of his dinner, she and Benedict had taken on bath time together. Benedict kept Jonathan amused with his rubber duck and nesting cups, while Donna washed and shampooed the wiggling, splashing baby. Then Donna had dressed Jonathan in his onesie while Benedict cleaned up the bathroom. After a bottle and a cuddle with his godfather, Jonathan had dropped to sleep in a matter of minutes.

_He really is good with babies. His godson obviously adores him.  
_

_She’s took extraordinary care of Jon. They were very at ease with each other.  
_

Benedict paused the movie and kissed Donna’s cheek.

“Jack Nicholson is about to break the door down with that axe!”

“Jack can wait. I just wanted to tell you how over the moon I am tonight. I loved taking care of Jonathan with you. It was like having a preview of our future…without the swearing, of course.”

“You’re going to make a wonderful father one day, Ben Honey.”

_Ah, why don’t you seduce me here right now on the couch. It wouldn’t take much the way I’m feeling right now…all romantic and soppy._

“I can’t wait to be given that chance.”

“I’ll be sure to give you more than one chance.”

_Christ, give it to me now. I so want a baby for us to care for and love together._

“I can’t wait to make a baby with you, Donna,” Benedict said wistfully.

“Patience, Benedict. We’re just getting out feet wet with a committed relationship.”

Benedict sighed deeply. “I know, I know. We need to do things in the proper order:   Coupledom, engagement, wedding - then babies. It seems like such a long way off.”

“You don’t want to jump into parenthood right after a wedding.”

“Why not? Plenty of couples start to try during honeymoon.”

“Do you envision yourself as half of one of those couples?”

“Yeah. I do. If it were solely up to me, I’d start trying on our wedding night.”

“Don’t you think a married couple needs to establish a good solid foundation before bringing children into the world? What if a marriage doesn’t work out? A marriage has to be fed and nurtured for a while?”

“What is your idea of ‘a while’?”

“I’d prefer to be a married couple for at least a year before starting a family. It depends on how things work out.”

“I suppose a year isn’t unreasonable. If I have to wait, I will; but you can’t stop me from yearning for it.”

“Please don’t misunderstand, Benedict. I also yearn for the same things you do. I just want to take things nice and easy. We’re both young. There is no rush. Let’s just take our time to enjoy each step of the journey.”

Benedict nodded and kissed Donna’s hand. “I plan to _really_ enjoy the step we’re going to take next week.”

“Then that makes two of us. Now, can we let Jack resume breaking down the door? I love watching Shelley Duvall’s reaction.”

“I’m feeling a bit peckish. How about you?”

“I could go for a little something and maybe a cup of tea to go with it?”

“I’ll be right back. Why don’t you go up and check on Jon while I fetch us something tasty. Do you fancy sweet or savoury?”

“I’m in the mood for something sweet right now. I’ll have the savory one when we get back to your apartment,” said Donna, winking suggestively at him.

 

 

 

Donna entered the kitchen after checking on the baby to find Benedict in the process of filling two mugs with hot water from a pink kettle that looked like a pig.

_Oh, how cute! I wonder if they make one that looks like a cow?_

“Alright?”

“He was sleeping like a little angel. All he needed was a slight blanket adjustment. The diaper felt dry, so all’s well for the time being.”

“Can you please hand me that pink and silver canister next to the paper toweling rack?”

Donna placed the canister on the countertop next to Benedict’s hand.

“Alice likes to change up her tea selection every month. Let’s see what the flavour of the month is.” He opened it and sniffed. “Ah, smells like black tea with ginger and peach.”

“I love ginger peach tea. The one they serve at Takashimiya’s Tea Box is the best I’ve ever had.”

Benedict extracted two tea bag sachets, which he plopped into the beakers.

“Tea bags? I thought those are sacrilege in an English household. Well, according to your parents they are.”

“Can I swear now?” joked Benedict looking stealthily behind him. “For fucks sake – Christ, that felt good to say – my parents have used many a tea bag when I was a small, and they were both working. Now, they’ve more time to make a proper cup of tea. Of course loose tea is preferable, but many of us don’t always have the time to fuss with teapots and loose tea like they do. This is one of them. However, one can manage to make an acceptable cuppa with a bag.”

“Then I’ll put myself in your capable hands and hope for the best.”

“You cheeky, impatient girl. We’ll take care of your needs back at my flat,” smirked Benedict as he glanced at his watch. “We’re just about done.”

Donna retrieved a spoon. “Here, let me get the bags out.” She took one of the mugs and pushed the tea bag against the spoon to extract all the flavor.

“Whoa!” said Benedict with a horrified expression, as he deliberately moved his beaker out of her reach. “You’re out the front door if you do that again.”

“What did I do that was so bad? I just didn’t want to have the tea bag dripping all over the place.”

Benedict shook his head. “It’s considered bad manners and makes the tea taste bitter.” He offered her a saucer that he had placed on the counter. “Like this,” he said as he simply removed the bag and set it in the saucer. “Don’t let mum ever catch you doing that – or me again for that matter.”

Donna crossed her heart and raised her palm. “I swear on all that is holy that I will never do that again.” She inhaled the spicy, yet fruity aroma of the tea. “This smells delightful.”

“You’re in for a treat, because Alice always buys fine quality tea – loose and bags.”

“I enjoy a good tea bag, to be honest.”

“As do I. You can tea bag me anytime.”

Donna snickered. “I wasn’t referring to _that_ kind of tea bag.”

“I was.”

“I love how you twist words into double entendre.”

“Part of me wouldn’t mind a little twist from you.”

Donna laughed. “Later. I love how we can joke around about sex, and I feel perfectly comfortable…as if we were discussing the weather.”

“I’m glad. That’s paramount to being able to communicate well in bed. You used to turn all red at first.”

“You make me feel at ease. You are a good influence on me, Benedict.”

"I should hope so! We need to be sexually in-sync if we're to spend the rest of our lives together."

"Was that a proposal?"

"Not quite.  I told you, you'll know when the time comes."

_There's a part of me that can't wait for him to ask me to marry him. I wonder if he'll be creative or traditional and get down on one knee. He's certainly very creative with his gifts, yet he can be very old-fashioned about some things._

Donna took a sip of the tea. “Mmmm…it is good tea. It doesn’t taste artificially-flavoured.”

“I’ve had this one before. This blend has bits of dried peach in it and real bits of ginger. I hope I brewed an adequate cuppa, Miss Saint James?”

“If you were a boy scout, you definitely would have earned your tea-making badge.”

Benedict rubbed his hands together with anticipation. “Let’s see what goodies Alice has stashed away for us,” he said opening the door to the fridge. “Oh! Speaking of treats, Alice has left us a most delectable one indeed!”

Donna came to stand beside him and peered into the fridge. “What?” she asked eagerly.

“Behold! Alice’s famous angel food cake!” declared Benedict removing the delicious-looking cake Donna had been eyeing earlier. “She knows what a tart I am for sweets; bless her – especially this cake.”

“Ben, I hate to burst your bubble, but Alice said we can’t…”

Benedict put the cake on the counter and hastily took two plates from the cabinet, stopping at the utensil drawer to select a knife and two forks.

“This cake is fucking amazing. I know it looks rather plain and homespun, but it is one of the best cakes ever invented! Alice bakes the cake herself from scratch. Then she hollows it out and fills it with this rich, thick vanilla bean custard and sliced strawberries that have been lightly sweetened with a touch of orange blossom honey. Then she puts the top back on and covers the whole thing in sweet whipped cream. It is truly a slice of heaven.”

_Oh my God does that sounds so good! I really wish I could taste it._

“We can’t have it, Benedict,” said Donna regretfully. “Alice said it was the only thing in the fridge that was off limits because she specifically baked it for her father’s birthday tomorrow.”

“Oh, not to worry,” scoffed Benedict with a wave of his hand. “We’ll just have a little taste then.” He raised the knife to cut into the cake.

“NO! Stop that, Ben! She’ll know we ate the cake!”

“No, she won’t. I know what I’m doing,” Benedict said with confidence as he painstakingly cut a thin slice out of the whipped cream-covered creation and lay it on one of the plates. “I’ve done this loads of times before. Trust me.” He then carefully cut another thin slice out of the opposite side of the cake and placed it on the other plate.

Donna regarded the cake with a frown. “And just how do you intend to explain the gaps in the cake?”

Benedict laughed. “I won’t have to. Watch the master and learn!” he commanded.

Benedict gently pushed the ring cake back together with two forks. Then he took the knife and painstakingly smoothed the whipped cream over the cuts.

“There! She’ll never know we’ve taken a taste!” he said proudly, wiping the cream off the knife with his finger and licking it off.

“Son of a bitch!” exclaimed Donna. “Aren’t you the accomplished little cake mender? I can’t tell it’s been tampered with.”

“That’s the idea,” smiled Benedict. “Now, let’s have our snack, shall we then?”

 

 

 

“My God, that was one of the best cakes I’ve ever had!” said Donna Saint James, putting her empty plate on the coffee table.

“Isn’t it though?”

“I’m half-tempted to lick my plate clean.”

“Go ahead. Be brazen and wanton. I won’t tell.”

“I could really go for more. What a shame we can’t.”

“Who said we can’t?” inquired Benedict innocently.

“Alice wouldn’t be happy if she found out we already sampled her cake, but to go back for another slice...”

“Alice hasn’t found out yet. You forget, Darling that you’re sitting next to the cake camouflage expert.”

“By any chance were you the one who – camouflaged – my cheesecake?”

“Nope. It was Mum.”

“I still can’t believe they ate the nuts off of it.”

“I was utterly mortified.”

“We’re kind of doing the same thing in a way,” mused Donna.

Benedict picked up their empty plates and beakers. “We _are_ doing, not _kind of_.” Then he leaned over to whisper in Donna’s ear. “ I have a feeling that the cake camouflage expert is about to strike again!”

 

 

 

After Benedict and Donna had left, Alice Ackland sat at the desk in the kitchen making a quick addition to her shopping list for the next day. She heard her husband’s footfalls on the stairs, and the creak of the floorboards as he made his way into the kitchen.

“Aren’t you coming up to bed?” Adam asked with a frown.

“Just reviewing my shopping list for the morning. I don’t want to forget anything.”

"Just don't forget that you we're scheduled to take a trip down the path leading to hot, lovin' sex, and I really fancy being your guide."

"I haven't forgotten," giggled Alice.  "I've got my special boots at the ready - among other things. All you have to do is make sure to point your compass in the right direction."

"My compass has already been properly calibrated and stands at the ready."

"Just give me another minute then, and I'll meet you upstairs."

Adam got a glass of water and took it to the refrigerator. Alice looked up from her writing.

“Don’t tell me you’re feeling peckish after that epic meal we had!”

“Oh, you know me...forever having a putter,” mumbled Adam as he opened the door to the fridge and surveyed the contents.   “Jesus, Ally! Why in the hell did you make such a small cake? There won’t be enough to go round tomorrow.”

“It’s the same size I always make.”

Adam frowned. “I don’t know about that. I think you should come have a look.”

“You’re being a silly twat, Adam! Cakes just don’t magically shrink.”

“Well, this one might have. I swear, Ally! See for yourself.”

Alice reluctantly got to her feet and crossed the room to see what her husband was talking about. There on the plate sat an angel food cake less than half the size of what she had plated earlier.

“Bloody hell! More than half the motherfucking cake is missing!” cried Alice.

“Cumberbatch strikes again,” mused Adam. “What a prick! He doesn’t realize we’re on to him.”

“Crap. I specifically told Donna that this was the one thing they weren’t welcome to eat.”

“I can’t figure out for the life of me how in the hell he manages to sneak a slice out without being detected.”

“The prat does a flawless job of it, too,” added Alice. “The only way I can tell that he’s been in it is by the size of the cake and not always.”

“He’s gone and done it this time.”

“I can’t bring that to my father!” moaned Alice.

“No, you can’t,” agreed Adam pulling the cake out and getting two spoons. “Fancy joining me in a nibble, Love?”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. There were rumors circulating at the time of Hedda Gabbler that Benedict had an affair with one of his female co-stars. I've decided to run with that in this universe and give it a twist.  
> 2\. I don't know if Adam Ackland smokes or not, but in this universe he did.  
> 3\. The Hampstead Cuisine school really does exist.  
> 4\. My late mother used to make Alice's ring cake, and it was delicious!  
> 5\. Merde means 'shit' in French.  
> 6\. Before I get flamed, I wish to state that Donna and Benedict's baby discussion is not meant to throw shade at what is happening in the real Benedict's life, so please don't misinterpret. This plot and the characters personalities were fleshed out almost two years ago. Donna and Benedict's opinions/wishes/desires are totally their own and do not necessarily reflect mine. I am just here to tell their story.


	85. Chapter 85

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Donna receives two messages: one good, one not-so-good. Wanda debriefs Una.
> 
> Part One of the Cornwall Holiday: Benedict and Donna arrive in Cornwall for Gastro Week.
> 
> Note: I’ll be using ******** for things happening at the same time and ###### to indicate a time jump of two weeks.

 

Donna Saint James completed her night time routine and entered Benedict Cumberbatches’ bedroom to a blast of cool, crisp air.

_Ah, he turned on the air conditioner for me! It’s so nice and cool in here!_

Benedict was already sitting up in bed, reading a biography of Terrance Rattigan. He had taken the white down comforter off the floor and had placed it back on the bed. When she pulled back the comforter to get in, Donna noted that in addition to the top sheet, there was also a summer weight blanket under it. Benedict was wearing blue plaid flannel pajamas and sleep socks.

“You’re bundled up like it’s the dead of winter, Benedict. Are you cold?”

“Not any longer.”

Benedict paused in his reading to give Donna the once over. She was clad in a short, yellow printed one-piece romper with thin straps. It made him shiver just seeing her in the thin material.

“And you’re dressed like it’s the middle of summer.”

“That’s because it _is_ the middle of summer.”

“Your sleepwear makes it hard for me to concentrate.”

“Excellent! Mission accomplished,” grinned Donna with a wink.

“Seriously, I have to get up early tomorrow for an audio book; and you have your weekly meeting at the Tribune. I’ve even set the alarm to get me up the same time as you.”

“Please let me make it warmer in here, Benedict. I don’t want you to freeze on my account. It doesn’t have to be this cold. I’ll just sleep with the sheet.”

“I’m fine. _Really_. I just want you to be comfortable here, Sweetheart. I find it’s easier to keep me warm than to keep you cool. Is the temperature satisfactory to you then?”

“It’s perfect in here.”

 _I guess I’ll have to stock up on winter pajamas next time there’s an end of the year sale,_ thought Benedict _. At least I have those warm flannel sheets for the winter months.  
_

_I’ll get up once he’s asleep and raise the temperature. It’s not fair for him to have to dress like that for bed._

“Jolly good then. That’s sorted. I’m going to read for a bit if that’s okay.”

Donna nodded and leaned over to kiss him lightly on the lips.

“Of course it is! Good night, Benedict.”

“Good night, Darling.”

Donna switched off the lamp on what was going to be her side of the bed and settled down beneath the covers. She turned her back towards Benedict and adjusted the pillow, as Benedict cast an appreciative quick glance at her backside.

_I love how the cheeks of her bum are peeking out of that romper thing she’s wearing._

_He’s got such nice, soft linens. I bet he paid a bundle for these.  
_

Donna closed her eyes and thought over the events of the day while listening to Benedict turning the pages of his book.

_He gave me such a satisfying climax before with those fingers of his, but I still don’t feel relaxed. His bed is comfortable enough. In fact it’s much more comfortable than Marco’s. The lunch at his parents went pretty well, all things considered. The visit with Adam and Alice was a success. Maybe I’m just excited about this being my first sleep over here._

Donna rolled over and sat up against the padded headboard, arranging the two pillows Benedict had given her to use against it for support.

“I love this headboard. It must be very comfy for reading.”

“Uh huh.”

“Did you enjoy your rain check?”

“Uh huh,” replied Benedict absently as he turned a page.

“I really enjoyed meeting Adam and Alice. They are very nice, and I look forward to seeing more of them. Jon is adorable and such a good baby when he’s not pulling hair. He’ll probably outgrow that nasty little habit in time.”

Benedict scratched his nose with his thumb and turned another page.

“Uh huh.”

“I had a lot of fun at your parents’ house. I worried for nothing. They made me feel very much at home, as did Tracy and her family.”

“Uh…”

_He’s not listening to me. He’s concentrating on his book. He obviously would rather read. I’ll take the hint and shut up now.  
_

Benedict suddenly slammed the book closed and placed it on his nightstand. He studied Donna with pursed lips and sighed.

_You shut your big mouth too late, Donna. Now he’s angry._

“My parents have been acting very weird lately,” he blurted out, running his hands through his hair.

Donna blinked in surprise. “How so?”

 _Phew! He’s not mad at me! It’s_ _Tim and Wanda’s behavior that’s bothering him. They did act a bit odd today, but that was because I was attuned to the plan and privy to a lot of things Benedict isn’t._

“They’re keeping something from me.”

_Holy shit! And that something is a BIG something._

“Do you think one of them might be sick?”

“No. No. Its nothing like that. I just have this hunch that it has to do with me.”

_You have no idea just how right your hunch is, Benedict._

“Oh, I think you’re imagining it,” laughed Donna nervously. “Why would your parents keep something from you?”

Benedict frowned, tossed one pillow onto the floor and fluffed the other one.

_He just threw the pillow on the floor when there’s an almost empty chair right next to his side of the bed. Does he not realize there are dust mites on the floor? I guess he didn’t want to put it on top of his already worn and wrinkled jeans. Then again, he did leave this beautiful comforter on the floor throughout the summer. I guess that corner serves as his linen closet while the chair serves as storage for the clothes he just wore. The chair must be a halfway stop on the way to the laundry room._

“I don’t know. You tell me.”

_Actually, I can tell you; but it will only serve to incriminate me and ruin all our lives. Is the preservation of the plan worth this stress every time he’s wanders into dangerous territory?  
_

“What exactly have they done to cause you to feel this way?”

“I’ve been catching them doing such strange things over the past several months, and they get this guilty look about them whenever I try to get it out of them. Then they get defensive as hell! Mum becomes dismissive, and Dad gets stropy.”

“Has it ever occurred to you that they don’t like being questioned by Barrister Ben?”

Benedict blushed. “Cut me some slack, for fucks sake!”

“When did you first notice that they were acting out of character?”

Benedict rested his head against the padded headboard as he thought back to the first time he caught his mother typing away furiously on the computer the morning after he had spent the night Kensington.

“I first noticed it prior to our meeting…so that would make it a couple of months earlier.”

_I wonder what he caught Wanda and Timothy doing to arouse his suspicion._

“What sort of strange things?”

“Okay. I’ll give you a recent example. Remember those photos on their computer that we were looking at today?”

“What about them?” asked Donna, as she felt herself breaking out into a cold sweat.

“That wasn’t the first time I had seen them. One night whilst I was visiting them, they had those photos appearing in a continuous loop for their screensaver. When I asked about them, Mum…and I know this is going to sound wacky as hell…”

_Try me, Benedict. I can guarantee you that whatever you're about to tell me will not sound wacky to me in the slightest.  
_

“…deliberately stepped on the power cord in order to shut down the computer.”

Donna smacked his thigh lightly. “Benedict Cumberbatch! How dare you accuse your mother of doing such a thing? She must have accidentally stepped on it.”

_Bravo Wanda! That was quick thinking on your part.  
_

“Believe me, Donna. It wasn’t an accident. I saw her intentionally step on it with my own eyes,” insisted Benedict. “She didn’t want me to get a closer look at those photos.

“Your mother’s not a young woman, perhaps she lost her balance and stepped on it.”

_Interesting. That was the same crap Mum tried to feed me. She was being so clumsy that she didn’t realize what had happened. Bullshit. She has excellent balance._

Benedict looked at Donna skeptically and snorted.

“Mum goes to a twice weekly Zumba class and practices Tai Chi. Her balance is just fine.”

_Mom goes to Zumba, too! And that’s probably the only thing those two will ever have in common.  
_

“I don’t know, Benedict. If that’s all you have to go on, you have a pretty weak argument in my humble opinion.” _  
_

“That wasn’t the first time she’s played the step-on-the-cord card. She did it to me another time.”

“Is the cord in a high traffic spot?”

Benedict looked flabbergasted. “You saw where the desk is. It’s in a bloody corner for fucks sake! You would have to deliberately stretch out your foot to step on that cord. When I set it up, I purposely tucked the cord away underneath the desk so no one trips and lands on their arse.”

“This sounds an awful lot like coincidence to me, Benedict.”

“I’m not done yet. Then she tried to convince me that the Borough of Camden had set up a webcam in order to attract tourism to Hampstead. When I pointed out to her that webcam feeds are live, she came up with this bloody ridiculous cock and bull story. She told me since it was night and therefore, dark out; the webcam had nothing to pick up! Donna, we have plenty of outdoor lighting in Hampstead. A webcam would definitely be able to pick up footage. Mum actually had the bollocks to tell me that they just re-ran earlier footage taken during daylight hours. Then Dad chimed in to say that he found the photos while reading an online article about Hampstead and the author had used screenshots captured off the webcam or some such nonsense. They completely contradicted each other!”

_And that they did. I think I need to warn Wanda and Tim that he’s suspicious._

“Maybe there once was a webcam; and they decided to take it down, Ben, or maybe there was a roving photographer who sold the pictures to a website or local paper.”

_I’ll go with the roving photographer theory, Darling. And that roving photographer was named Timothy Cumberbatch, bless him.  
_

“Perhaps,” mused Benedict, not sounding entirely convinced. “Those photos were taken on Saturday afternoon, and I saw them Sunday night. That means the Borough of Camden would have to have disconnected it sometime between Saturday afternoon and Sunday morning – if their stories are to be believed.”

_My honey has certainly earned the nickname ‘Barrister Ben’. My, gosh! He can be exhausting. Such a waste of legal talent! The man should have gone to law school. He would have made a great trial lawyer. Mom could have opened a London branch of her firm, and Benedict could be running it._

“You’re jumping to conclusions without concrete evidence, _barrister_.”

“It’s eating away at me! If I don’t find out what’s going on, I’m going to get that fucking ulcer back.”

“Ben Honey, I think you should just give your parents the benefit of the doubt; and stop making yourself sick over it. If it were really something that important, they would have told you by now. It’s probably just something silly.”

_Silly is a poor choice of words, Donna. He would not think this silly at all._

“I suppose you do make a valid point. Please don’t ever say anything to either of them about this conversation then.”

_But you weren’t present for all the strange things, Donna. I wish you had been. I need to sit down and tell Adam about all of this fuckery – the cord, the not asking Donna any personal questions whatsoever during lunch, how familiar they were with each other. Adam knows Mum and Dad for years, and I value his opinion. I do value Donna’s but she doesn’t know them as well or what Mum’s capable of. Like the computer. Mum’s a lot savvier than she lets on. I found that certificate for the course she took.  
_

_I need to distract Barrister Ben,_ thought Donna.

“Now, come over here and give me a kiss that will last me until morning!”   Donna playfully commanded, while batting her eyelashes at him.

Benedict moved over to embrace Donna and kissed her deeply, his tongue deftly parting her lips. He sucked her tongue gently and was rewarded when a moan of pleasure escaped her lips. She brought up her right hand to gently pull at his hair follicles, causing him to also moan.

_Christ that feels so fucking good. Maybe we can get each other off one more time before we go to sleep. I love that she’s so responsive to my touch. I can’t wait for Cornwall._

A text chime suddenly sounded from across the room as his hand gently cupped her left breast.

“Is that yours or mine?” murmured Benedict in between kisses, his thumb rolling over her nipple.

“Yours,” replied Donna, tugging his hair ever-so-gently. “Leave it and keep kissing me with those luscious lips of yours.”

“It could be my parents.”

“Wouldn’t they call your land line if they know you’re home?”

“Erm…I took the land line off the hook so we wouldn’t be disturbed.”

Benedict got up and padded over to his dresser. He had set both of their mobiles to charge side-by-side on top of it while Donna was in the bathroom. What she didn’t know was that Benedict had used the time to scroll through her call history looking to see if the Wanda who called her the night Andrew Scott had had pizza with them was his mother. Unfortunately, Donna had cleared her history much to Benedict’s annoyance.

“Your message light is also blinking. Do you want to check your messages, Love?”

“Yeah. I might as well.”

Benedict unplugged and handed the phone to her. Donna could see that there were two messages. One was from Carly and the other one from her brother, Kenny.

The first was from Carly: **  
**

**_“Hi! I hope you had fun today with the Cumberbatches. I can’t wait to hear all about it. I’m calling to let you know that I’ve got some good news!   I just got off the phone with Mark Gatiss. He wanted us to know that Steven Moffat was receptive to the idea of changing caterers and promised to look over our proposal. He’ll get back to us as soon as he hears anything. Have a good night, and I’ll see you after your Monday meeting!”  
_ **

Donna next listened to her brother’s message:

**_“Sorry I missed you on Skype, so I thought I’d try out my new and insanely expensive satellite phone. Just wanted you to know that the Neil and Toni Show is going on tour, and their destination is London. Flights are already booked for Labor Day weekend. I’m sure details from the source will follow shortly. Say hi to Benedict. Love you, little Sis.”_ **

“Shit.”

“What’s wrong?”

“My parents are coming to London for a visit.”

“Shit is right. I think I’ll go on holiday then.”

“We're going to Cornwall next week.”

“Can we postpone it?”

“Somehow I don’t think my editor would approve. The Gastro Holiday package is only offered once a year.”

“Bloody motherfucking hell! This is just what we didn’t need!”

“You should be aware that they _are_ different in person.”

Benedict raised a quizzical eyebrow at her. “ _How_ different?”

“Much worse than they are on Skype.”

“Fuck me!”

“Soon enough, stud muffin.”

“Don’t be so damn cheeky!”

“I promise you can have all the sex that you and your cute little dick desire.”

Benedict raised an eyebrow at her.

“Little?” He asked in a mock pout. "I do believe I've demonstrated that I'm a grower, not a shower."

_That was dumb Donna. Wrong choice of wording. Average, but I won’t say that. I don’t want to bruise his tender male ego or lie though. He knows how he measures up to other men. He’s well read in that area for sure.  
_

“It was an expression of endearment referring to your pre-erectile state.”

“That’s better then. I really _am_ only average once things get going…I mean you’ve seen me…several times now…would you say average?” asked Benedict shyly, eyes furtively darting to her for confirmation.

“I think you’re short changing yourself. I’d say you’re a bit above average in size, but size really doesn’t matter to me or should it to you.”

_Oh, but it does, my love. It does matter to me. It matters to all men._

“It’s how you use it, Ben Honey; and I’m sure you use it in an above average way.”

Donna could see him puff up a little at her words. He smirked at her.

“You’ll just have to wait until Cornwall to find out.”

_And hope to hell that I can deliver.  
_

“What were we just discussing, Donna? My mind’s been in the proverbial gutter,” he laughed.

“My parents’ trip to London at the beginning of next month.”

_Hahaha! I wiped that from my mental hard drive fast. I really wish this could be avoided. I foresee an epic blowup and ugly resulting row._

Benedict sucked in some air and held his breath for a moment. Then he let it out slowly. Then he repeated the cycle twice.

_What is he doing? OH, that must be something they taught him in yoga class to relax!_

“I do these breathing techniques that I learnt in yoga class to use whenever I need to keep calm. I need to realize there’s nothing that I can do and make the best of it. This visit was inevitable – you said so yourself.”

“Look Benedict, I try and talk with them when you’re not around; and when you are, I do my best to keep the visits as brief as possible.”

“I personally don’t think they are buying the ‘oopps, the connection and/or picture isn’t clear, such a pity that we have to sign off’ anymore,” Snickered Benedict. “If your father keeps raising his eyebrows any higher, they are going to become a permanent part of his hairline.”

_Yep. They know. They called me out on it Wednesday night. They accused me of hiding you. They were pissed and asked why I seemed to be keeping you from getting to know them better.  
_

“Christ, I’ve started to dread those calls. They ask such…probing questions. I often feel they are trick questions, designed to trip me up,” lamented Benedict, rubbing the back of his neck.

Donna nodded. “And you are correct – on all counts.”

“At least your mother is pleasant…”

_For now. Give her time, Benedict. Give her time. The like to start out playing good cop/bad cop; but the tide will turn soon enough. You’ll get to see why her clients affectionately refer to her as the Barracuda of Broadway.  
_

“…but your father does little to hide his contempt of me and my chosen profession.”

“And I appreciate that you have been so good at holding your temper with him. I wish I knew your secret.”

“TUMS and single malt scotch, bless their inventors.”

“Everything you’ve just said is true, Benedict. Unfortunately for you, they’ve come to realize it’s inevitable that you’re going to be their son-in-law one day; and they want to get to know you. About that they are one hundred percent sincere. Actually, they _should_ get to know you and you them.”

Benedict rolled his eyes. “I am truly blessed.”

_What in the fuck did I do to deserve the future in-laws from hell? Oh, yes, I fell in love with their daughter…but that was the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I will find a way to sort it out. I will not cock up this relationship over them._

“I hope you realize that they are going to want to meet your parents while they’re here.”

“How lovely,” spat Benedict. He opened his bedside drawer and removed a roll of Tums, popping two into his mouth.

 _That should prove to be a thoroughly miserable evening for all_ , thought Benedict, rubbing the back of his neck as he chewed the cherry-flavoured tablets. _I can’t even imagine Mum and Dad having pleasant conversation or any conversation with Neil and Toni for that matter. I see a huge row. I see Donna crying. I see myself drinking myself into oblivion after I tell the right bastard and his wife off. Unfortunately, I can’t see a way out of it. When I marry Donna, we all become family. God help us all.  
_

_Benedict doesn’t mean that at all. Look at the expression on his face. He knows putting them together is a recipe for disaster. I just need to ask Kenny about that letter to be sure, but I know deep down inside that Wanda must be the author of Daddy’s favorite fan letter. They are the last two people who should be put in a room together. The possibilities for a show down are endless. It will be ugly.  
_

Neither of them said anything for several minutes.

“I suppose we’ll just have to make the best of it then,” said Benedict with resignation in his voice. “If we’re going to be married one day, we’re all going to be related.”

“As we used to say at Disney, we’re all connected in the great circle of life.”

“That’s not exactly a comfort to me you realize yes?”

“It sounded good though, didn’t it?” teased Donna. “We need to find some humor in the situation.”

“I’m going to mull that over while I go take a wee.”

Donna glanced at the clock and counted back the hours to get the time in New York.

_Kenny should just be getting home by now._

Donna hit reply as soon as Benedict was out of the room. Unfortunately, her brother’s phone went straight to voicemail:

**“You have reached the voicemail of Kenneth Saint James. Please leave your name, number and a brief message after the tone.”**

_I bet Scarlett made him turn it off while they have dinner._

“Hey Kenny! Thanks for the heads up on the Neil and Toni Show European Tour. Lucky me! I was wondering if you could do me a huge favor the next time you’re at Dad’s office. Could you please take a photo of Dad’s favorite nasty fan letter and email it to me? There is a method to my madness, which I’ll explain at another time. I appreciate it and love you. Please give my love to Scarlett and the kids!”

Donna turned off her phone and put it back to charging on the dresser top. Then she put the receiver for Benedict’s landline back on the hook.

“Ah, that’s better,” remarked Benedict as he entered the room and got into bed. “Did you have any other messages besides your brother?”

“As a matter of fact, yes! Carly left me a voicemail that Steven Moffat has agreed to review our catering proposal,” said Donna with a grin. “I knew he’d be interested! This is going to be great fun!”

 _That was good news?_ Thought Benedict. _Shit. I hope he doesn’t accept it.  
_

“You’re putting the cart before the horse, Donna.” _  
_

The landline began to ring. Benedict looked at her questioningly.

“I put it back on the hook,” explained Donna. “Someone may need to reach you in an emergency.”

Benedict leaned over to check the caller ID. “It’s Bob from downstairs.”

“It’s pretty late for him to be calling.”

“No worries. I’ve got a good idea I know what it’s about,” chuckled Benedict. He picked up the receiver and spoke into it. “Hello.”

**_“I hope I didn’t wake you, Ben.”_ **

“No, I was just getting into bed. What’s up?”

**_“I forgot my bloody keys, Can you buzz me in?”_ **

“You wanker! You need to wear them around your neck. Be right there!” chuckled Benedict, as he hung up the phone. “Every now and then he forgets his keys. I’ll just buzz him in.”

 _Thank you, Bob!_ Thought Donna. _Now I can warn Wanda_.

As soon as Benedict left the room, Donna jumped up and ran to her cellphone. She quickly texted a message to Wanda:

**Ben is suspicious of your stepping on the PC power cord and the web cam story. Be careful. Had a great time today! Thx for inviting me. DSJ**

Luckily, Donna was able to get back in bed before Benedict joined her once again.

“So, what was _your_ message, Ben?”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot to look,” laughed Benedict.

_That’s because you were too busy being nosy about mine. I saw you leaning closer to me so that you could hear my messages._

Benedict looked at the text message and began to chuckle. “We’re busted, I’m afraid.” He held out his mobile so Donna could read the text. It was from Adam.

**Alice says next time don’t be so greedy and leave a bigger piece of cake. This time it was too obvious. A**

**########################################################**

 

 

Benedict Cumberbatch and Donna Saint James arrived at the Nare Hotel in Cornwall just after one o’clock in the afternoon.

“Wow! It really does look like a sprawling country house by the sea,” mused Donna. “I can’t wait to see the inside.”

“Soon enough,” smiled Benedict as a valet approached his car. “They’re going to swarm us like locusts,” he chuckled.

“Welcome to the Nare! Checking in, Sir?” The valet inquired in a clipped accent, while opening the door for Benedict.

“Yeah, we’ll be staying through the week,” replied Benedict, getting out of the car while the valet rushed around the car to open the door for Donna. “The remote for the boot no longer works,” he added apologetically as he rounded the car to unlock it in order to access the luggage.

“Please allow me to get those, Sir, while you go to reception,” said a distinguished-looking bellman. The man had suddenly appeared at Benedict’s side, seemingly out of nowhere.

“I didn’t even see the bloke coming,” whispered Benedict as he took Donna’s arm.

“They knew we were coming. I remember they asked for our ETA.”

Benedict stopped for a moment to stretch. “It feels good to get out of that car. I was starting to get a leg cramp.”

_That’s because you didn’t want to take the time to walk around a little at the rest stops. You ran in to pee and jumped back into the car. The second time you didn’t even get out of the car.  
_

“You weren’t kidding when you said it was a nice, long drive,” laughed Donna. “Just over five hours from the time we left my apartment until now.”

“It would have been quicker had we not had two stops at the travel plazas,” pointed out Benedict grumpily.

“When a girl has to go, a girl has to go. I’m not of the ‘pee and go’ variety. I need to stretch my legs on a long car trip.”

 _Don’t I know,_ thought Benedict _. If there is a travel plaza to be stopped at, then stop we shall._

“I can smell the salty sea air,” he commented, taking a deep breath. It’s just lovely and so invigorating yes?”

Donna nodded. “I love the scent of the sea. There’s nothing quite like it. Let’s go in and see if the lobby looks as advertised.”

 

********************************************************

 

Carly Cipriano finished rearranging the remaining lemon poppy seed and cranberry pistachio muffins on a pedestal cake plate when the bell over the door announcing customers sounded. She turned around to see Wanda Ventham smiling at her.

“Hi Wanda!” said Carly cheerily, placing the plate on the countertop. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you.”

“It’s been a busy summer,” commented Wanda. “I’m meeting a dear friend for a coffee and thought I’d pop in here while she holds a table.”

_What table? We don’t have any tables – inside or outside._

Carly looked out the window, which had a sweeping view of Paternoster Square.

“Are you going to buy food here and take it over to sit at one of Paul’s tables?” Carly asked incredulously.

Wanda nodded. “I do it all the time. It’s not like anyone’s going to make a fuss. You and Donna should add some tables outside.”

“You’re not the first person to mention that. We’ve been looking into it.”

“There’s no time like the present,” pointed out Wanda. “It’s been a lovely summer. I’d venture a guess that we’ll have another month of pleasant weather before it turns colder.”

“I will take that under advisement. How’s Tim?”

“Very well. He’s filming an episode of _Midsomer Murders_ for the ITV. He’s playing a constable,” replied Wanda.

“All the time you’ve been coming in here, and I had no idea you two were actors,” laughed Carly. “Or that my sister was dating your son until recently.”

Wanda raised a quizzical eyebrow at the younger woman.

_I wonder if Donna told Carly about The Plan? Donna has a malfunctioning mouth filter every bit as bad as Benedict’s, bless them both. I bet she confided in her sister and told her everything.  
_

“It was quite the pleasant surprise,” laughed Wanda. “Tim and I couldn’t be happier about their getting together.”

“My husband and I are thrilled that they’re in a serious relationship.”

_My parents, not so much.  
_

_I notice you haven’t mentioned what your parents think. I wonder what their feelings are about all this? Ben’s been keeping mum about that son of a bitch for fear of upsetting us too much. Hard to believe his spawn stands before me and is nothing like him. The daughters are absolutely lovely people. They must take after their mother._

Wanda beamed as Carly continued speaking.

“I love your son, and he’s a perfect match for my sister. Benedict is such a gentleman and treats Donna very well. I’ve never seen her happier in a relationship.”

_All that sneaking around, Wanda, and they wound up finding each other in the end without intervention from you. I’d love to be able to actually say that, but I promised Donna I would keep my mouth shut about The Plan, as she calls it. I would never do or say anything to jeopardize Donna’s happiness.  
_

“Donna is a right lovely bird,” continued Wanda warmly. “Benedict’s very serious about her, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he proposes sooner than later,” she added in a confidential tone. “My dear boy’s been broody since he was twelve.”

_Yes, he does plan on proposing, Wanda. He told me so himself. My guess is Christmas, followed by a fall fairy tale wedding at Walt Disney World. Benedict will probably try and push for a spring wedding, but Donna always said how much she loves fall. Hmmm…I wonder how Mom and Dad will react to them having kids eventually. Any children would have half the Cumberbatch genes. Hopefully, grandchildren will help mend the fences._

“And that would make us all family!” enthused Carly. “I love the thought of that.”

 _I dread the thought of that,_ thought Wanda. _Having Neil Saint James for an in-law._ _I can’t even imagine having to co-grandparent with that right bastard one day. Sooner or later, that wanker’s going to come over here; and Tim and I are going to come face-to-face with him. However, I do fancy getting the opportunity to set him straight in person. Someday my son is going to make the motherfucker eat his words, and I will be there to hand him the spoon.  
_

“That day can’t come soon enough, Love,” smiled Wanda, mustering all the sincerity she could.

_Oh, how you lie, Wanda! Donna texted me that you’re most likely the author of Daddy’s favorite nasty fan letter. My crystal ball shows lots of fireworks, and not the good kind._

“So, what can I get for you, Wanda?”

_How about a new father for you and Donna for a start?_

 

***************************************************

 

“The lobby looks exactly like it does in the online photos,” commented Donna excitedly as they made their way towards the check-in desk. “Many times those photos are out of date, and the hotels look nothing like what they advertise. So far, this is very impressive. What do you think?”

Benedict’s ice blue eyes swept the lobby.

_I need to get over to the Concierge Desk. I know they have one. I just hope it’s separate from reception. Oh, there it is – off by the Quarterdeck Restaurant._

“It’s lovely inside. I can’t wait to see our room. Do you want me to check us in then?”

“I’ll take care of it. The room is in my name.”

“I wonder if we’ll get extra special treatment being you’re with the Tribune? I bet they’ll want to…”

“Shhhhh!!!” I’m here incognito. I actually made the reservation under my mother’s maiden name just in the off chance someone recognized my name from my column, which in reality is doubtful. The whole point is that they find out I was here _after_ my column runs,” Donna explained, drawing the confirmation out of her handbag. “If they find out, they’ll definitely pull out all the stops to impress me and ensure a favorable review.”

“It’s happened before then yes?”

Donna nodded. “I’ve had that happen to me before at restaurants whenever I used my real name to make a reservation. The kitchen would be tipped off, and I’d get a flawless meal. I need to see this place, warts and all.”

Benedict craned his neck trying to get a look at the printout of the reservation. Finally, he saw what he needed to see.

“Well, in that case, I’ll go have a wander around the lobby while you check us in then. Cheers!”

 

******************************************************

 

 “Blimey, Wanda! I thought you had abandoned me!” exclaimed Una Stubbs as Wanda approached the small table for two directly outside of Paul’s Bakery and cafe.

“Sorry to make you wait so long, Una. Carly and I were having a bit of a chat,” explained Wanda, plopping down across from her friend.

“I call thirty minutes a rather long chat,” retorted Una. “I’ve had several people give me dirty looks for taking up the table without eating or drinking anything.”

“Well, now you have something to eat and drink,” smiled Wanda, opening the white paper bag with ‘Carldonn Creative Catering’ stenciled on it.

Una watched as one of the Paul’s employees came outside to clean off a neighboring table and side-eyed their competitor’s bag.

“He’s seen the Carldonn bag,” whispered Una. “He looks none too happy about it either I dare say.”

“Oh, you worry too much,” scoffed Wanda as the young man went back inside the store. “I do it all the time.” She opened the bag and began to extract their snack. “Here we are – a lighted toasted lemon poppy seed muffin for you and a cranberry pistachio for me!” announced Wanda. “Butter, lemon curd and raspberry jam on the side.”

“Wanda, the manager’s come to the window. He’s watching us.”

“He must have recognized us from our work.”

“Oh, I highly doubt that. He’s come to see for himself that we’re eating food from his competitor at his table. His worker’s gone and told him.”

“If he says anything, I’ll go in and buy a pastry,” laughed Wanda. “That will shut him up.”

Una glanced nervously at the bakery café. “He’s gone.”

“Jolly good then. Eat your muffin and stop worrying.”

“Did you remember to ask for semi-skimmed in my coffee?”

Wanda nodded as she carefully removed the two hot cups from the bag. “I decided to get us the ‘coffee of the day’, which is Viennese Cinnamon. Semi-skim for you and full fat cream for me.”

“I do love their muffins. I don’t know how they get them to bake up so moist,” wondered Una as she broke off a small piece of the muffin. “Mine are moist, but not this moist.” She then spread a dab of the softened butter on it, followed by an equally dainty dab of jam.

Wanda watched as her friend prepared her muffin and looked down at her own, which was generously slathered with butter and jam.

_And that’s why my friend looks like she does, and I look like I do. Una practices restraint when it comes to food, and I do not. Fuck that – we only live once so why not enjoy life’s pleasures?_

“What a good idea this was to meet for a catchup,” said Una. “It’s been an age since we’ve had a proper chat. _Ingenious_ has been taking up all my time. They say another two weeks of filming, and I’ll be done with my part.”

“Do you have anything lined up after that?”

“ _Sherlock_ ,” smiled Una. “With your Benedict. I’m so looking forward to working with him.”

“Benedict is excited about working with you as well.”

“How are things going in the romance department for him?”

Wanda grinned. “Things are going along swimmingly! He finally brought Donna around to Sunday lunch, and it was a delight to witness them interacting. It’s perfectly obvious to all of us just how much in love they are. Ben’s so over the moon – I’ve never seen him this happy in a relationship. There’s this euphoric bubble surrounding him these days.”

“Or the results of having had some good weed,” giggled Una.

“I assure you he hasn’t touched any weed since the night Tim caught him and Adam Ackland smoking in the garage.”

 _I almost forgot. He said he had been smoking pot the night he was carjacked in South Africa. I remember him saying it in an interview he gave afterwards,_ thought Wanda. _I have a strong feeling my son still likes to indulge occasionally._

“Was Tracy’s family at the lunch?”

Wanda nodded and swallowed a mouthful of muffin. “Of course, and they simply fell in love with Donna.”

“I’m chuffed to hear the lunch went by without a hitch, Wanda.”

“Well, there were a couple of close calls, but nothing that jeopardized The Plan certainly.”

Just then the message chime on Wanda’s mobile sounded.

“That’s odd. I didn’t notice any messages before. Hmmm…it’s from Donna from the night of the lunch. Blasted mobile company! This happened to Tim last month, but we just brushed it off. I’m going to have to call them and give them a piece of my mind. Let me see what it says.”

Wanda read the message aloud to Una:

**“Ben is suspicious of your stepping on the PC power cord and the web cam story. Be careful. Had a great time today! Thx for inviting me.”**

Una raised an eyebrow at her friend as she sipped her coffee. “Is she referring to one of those slip ups you were mentioning?"

Wanda ate some more muffin and nodded sadly.

"Okay then. I think you’d better tell me all about these slip ups that happened during Sunday's lunch."

 

*****************************************************

 

Benedict Cumberbatch strode directly to the Concierge Desk. He glanced back to see that Donna was still waiting in line behind another couple checking in.

_Brilliant! Now I can make sure everything I ordered is in the room!  
_

“Good afternoon, and how may I assist you?” Inquired the concierge with a warm smile. She reminded Benedict of his gran, Frances.

“I had called earlier in the week to arrange for a few surprise extras for my girlfriend to be set up in our room upon arrival.”

“Oh, aren’t you the thoughtful one, bless you!”

“And I just want to make sure everything has been taken care of while my girlfriend is checking us in.”

“I’d be happy to. What is your name?”

“Cumberbatch.”

The woman’s fingers froze over the computer keyboard in front of her as she pondered how to spell Cumberbatch.

_My damn surname throws everyone – every motherfucking time._

Benedict sighed and began to rattle off the phonetic spelling of his last name.

“That C for Charlie, U for umbrella, M for mother, B for bravo, E for elephant, R for Rachel, B for bravo, A for Alpha, T for tiger, C for Charlie, H for Harry…”

“My, that’s quite a mouthful, isn’t it?”

“I’m used to it,” replied Benedict.

The concierge frowned. “I don’t see you in the computer, Love. What is your confirmation number?”

_Oh, Benedict, you dolt. You need to give her Antonia’s maiden name. That was the whole purpose of sneaking at look at the booking. My head is already in bed._

“Forgive me, please. I forgot the booking is under my girlfriend’s surname, which is Mangano. That’s M for mother, A for Alpha…”

The woman waved him off. “That’s an easy one, Love. No need to spell it.”

Benedict tapped his fingers impatiently on the desktop and glanced back over his shoulder. Donna was busy checking in at the reception desk.

_I hope she hurries up before Donna comes over to see what I’m up to._

“I’ve got it! Donna Mangano. They blocked out Room 14 for you. It’s a lovely room with a spectacular sea view and private balcony.”

Benedict smiled. “Sounds lovely,” he agreed.

“We delivered a Waterford crystal vase containing a dozen multi-coloured cabbage roses, a plate of our house-baked, all-butter shortbread, a split of our best champagne which is chilling in the refrigerator and a plate of milk chocolate-covered strawberries, also in the refrigerator.”

“Brilliant! Thank you,” said Benedict extracting a credit card from his wallet. “I’d like to pay for this myself.”

He quickly stole a look back at the reception desk to see that Donna was busy putting things back into her bag. The woman at the reception desk handed Donna a keycard and some reading material, which she also put in her handbag.

_Shit! She’s done. She’ll come looking for me now._

“Just sign here Mr. Cumberbatch.”

Benedict hurriedly scribbled his name on the charge receipt and shoved his copy into his wallet, which he quickly tucked into the front pocket of his jeans.

“Have a lovely stay, Mr. Cumberbatch.”

 _Oh, I certainly plan to!_ Thought Benedict happily as Donna joined him.

“Our room isn’t quite ready yet. They figure an hour or so.”

“I have an idea. Let’s try the Quarterdeck restaurant for lunch. We can sit out on their terrace, which overlooks Gerrans Bay and check out the grounds afterwards,” suggested Benedict.

“Lead the way,” said Donna. “I’m more than ready for lunch.”

 _And I’m more than ready for other things,_ thought Benedict.

 

  
*****************************************************

 

Una Stubbs put down her coffee cup and sat back in her chair as Wanda finished telling her about the Sunday lunch in great detail, as well as the discovery about Neil Saint James being Donna’s father.

“Well now. That was quite the story. I think I’m sorry I asked.”

“Hells bells, Una! Things like this happen, but I really do believe Tim, Donna and I managed to do enough damage control between us.”

“Most of it wouldn’t have happened had you not had to – as you put it – preserve the integrity of The Plan.”

“I’m fairly confident this will blow over.”

“I’m not so sure, Wanda. Benedict is like a dog with a bone once he gets hold of something. He loves a good mystery and will stop at nothing until he gets his answers. He’s been that way ever since he was a small,” pointed out Una.

“He’ll have plenty to distract him. He and Donna are on holiday in Cornwall for the week. It’s a business trip for her, but he’s going along so they can enjoy some alone time before he has to resume his filming schedule.”

“So poor Donna will be at Barrister Ben’s mercy for a whole week when he has nagging questions swirling around in his head. I don’t envy her at all,” mused Una.

“Donna’s a smart little bird and from what I’ve seen, she’s capable of handling Barrister Ben,” scoffed Wanda. “All she has to do is make sure he’s getting laid regularly, and he’ll forget all about it.”

Una shook her head. “Shagging will only serve as a temporary distraction.”

“Once he’s back in London, his work schedule will further distract him. He’s got a lot of gigs lined up. He’ll be too busy to be concerned with computer power cords, web cams, who met whom, where we met, etcetera.”

“I really do hope so for all your sakes. That’s not the way I would handle it, but it’s not my business.”

Wanda frowned. “It became your business the afternoon you helped me write that ad,” she reminded her friend. “I value your opinion, Una. What would you do in my place then?”

“I’d start with a clean slate by telling him the truth.”

“Bloody hell, Una! Have you lost your mind?”

“No. The more I think about it, the more convinced I am that you and Timothy need to tell Benedict everything. What’s that saying? The truth shall set you free?”

“The truth shall lose me a son, potential daughter-in-law and grandchildren. No way will I ever tell him.”

“I hate to disagree with you, Love; but I think you’re making a terrible mistake. Things just keep getting more and more complicated, and will only continue to do so. Now, Donna’s up to her neck in this and has the most to lose. Tracy now knows the whole story. I’m involved…”

“You and Ben are rarely ever together, so I’m not worried about you in the slightest, Una. Besides you’ve a proven track record of being an excellent secret keeper.”

“Even the very best secret keepers can slip up, Wanda.”

“Well, I have the utmost confidence in you.”

The two women sat in silence, sipping their coffee.

“Timothy has a recurring nightmare about Ben finding out, as have I,” said Wanda in a small voice.

“That’s the guilt, Wanda. Your conscience knows what you’ve done is wrong and is telling you so in your dreams.”

“Christ, the thought of Benedict’s reaction…” Wanda let her voice trail off.

“He’s going to be very angry, Wanda. There is no avoiding that. However, I think that once the initial rage wears off, Donna can probably talk him around; and he’ll understand. The important thing is he’s in love with her, and I doubt he’s going to want to lose her. You also have to remember that the one saving grace in this whole bloody mess is that Donna and Ben met of their own accord. Your ad had absolutely nothing to do with their getting together.”

“Somehow I can’t see Benedict being comforted by that. All he’ll see is that we all lied to him and went against his wishes. I think we’re best off carrying on the way we’ve been.”

“ _Please_ , Wanda. All I ask is that you discuss it with Timothy and really think it over carefully. As time goes on, the chances of one of you coming out with something that can’t be explained increases. Isn’t it better Ben hears it from you rather than come to his own conclusions? You don’t want things to progress to the point where there’s a major row with hurtful words exchanged. Then you’ll wind up being permanently estranged from your only son and Donna in divorce court one day because of a secret that was found out. Ben will not only feel betrayed but he’ll also feel that he can’t trust the lot of you. Do you _really_ want that?”

“Of course not! I would die if that were to happen!” cried Wanda. “Those are the last things I want.”

“Then _please_ – for everyone’s sake – tell Ben the truth. Yes, he’ll be angry at first; but I think he really does have a level head and one of you will be able to talk him around. The longer this charade goes on, the worse it will be when he does find out.”

Wanda sighed deeply. “Alright then, you’ve convinced me! What you said does make sense, Una. I promise I’ll talk to Timothy about telling Benedict the truth.”

 

******************************************************

 

Benedict and Donna stood in sheltered beach hut containing the hotel’s hot tub, which overlooked the beach and sea beyond. They had enjoyed a light lunch in the hotel’s Quarterdeck Restaurant and had taken a stroll around the hotels beautifully manicured gardens. There was an indoor and outdoor pool, tennis court and a spa.

“Oh, we definitely need to come up here one night and use this,” said Donna. “It bet it’s very romantic under the stars.”

“Our room supposedly has a large soaking tub,” countered Benedict as another couple joined them on the deck. “A _private_ soaking tub,” he added as the couple said hello to them and hopped into the tub.

“I see what you mean,” said Donna as they made their way back towards the hotel. “We’d most likely have company unless it was very late.”

“Everyone undoubtedly would have the same idea, yes?” asked Benedict, suggestively wiggling his eyebrows at her. “Hanky panky in the great outdoors.”

“Isn’t that a croquet lawn over there?” asked Donna excitedly while pointing towards a large, flat lawn set up with spokes and pegs.

“Erm…yeah, it’s definitely a croquet lawn. You fancy a game yes?”

“Yes!!! I love to play croquet. We always used to play it whenever we went to Cape Cod.”

“Benedict rubbed the back of his neck. “Um…when was the last time you played, Darling?”

Donna thought for a moment. “The last time we vacationed there was when I was eight. Dad forbade me to play because I accidentally hit Kenny in the...groin when I hit the ball and totally missed the hoop. Luckily for him, there was no lasting damage; and Kenny went on to father three children with no problems.”

_And with my luck, her aim hasn’t improved; and she’ll wind up hitting me in the balls likewise._

“Come on, Ben! I’ll go see about getting us some mallets.”

Benedict reached out to catch Donna by the arm before she had a chance to run off. “I’m not playing with you unless I’ve got a cup over my bits,” he declared. “And since I didn’t think to pack one, I’m afraid you’ll have to wait until we go into town where I can buy one.”

“I promise that I’ll be careful. That was almost twenty-two years ago for fucks sake!”

_No motherfucking way. I’m counting on being able to father children one day soon. I need to distract her. Ah! They should be done servicing the room by now._

“Isn’t it time for us to check into our room?” inquired Benedict.

Even though he really had thoroughly enjoyed their leisurely lunch and exploring what the hotel had to offer in the way of activities, Benedict found himself growing more and more impatient to be alone with Donna.

Donna pulled her cellphone out of her handbag.

“Ah, I knew there was a reason I was feeling a vibration! I just got a text from the front desk. Our room is ready and the keycard is now activated. I’m dying to check it out!”

“I’m dying to check you out,” said Benedict Cumberbatch with a sly smile as he playfully patted her bottom.

“I’d much rather you check me out, too. The hell with the croquet. Let’s go!”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Ingenious is a made-for-TV movie that Una Stubbs did in 2009.
> 
> 2\. The Nare Hotel is a real place: http://www.narehotel.co.uk/welcome
> 
> 3\. Yes, I’m playing with my timeline again. It’s is the last week of August 2009


	86. Chapter 86

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part Two of the Cornwall Holiday: Benedict’s romantic holiday in Cornwall finds him wanting to play whilst Donna wishes she didn’t have to work.

 

Benedict Cumberbatch unlocked the door of Room 14 of the Nare Hotel and pushed it open, so Donna could precede him into the light-filled room. Just as in the brochure, there was a large window inset with French doors that opened onto a private balcony with an expansive sea view. The room itself was done in warm shades of maroon, sage green and a buttery yellow. There was a king-sized bed, desk and small sitting area. An electric fireplace was on the wall next to the bed, which added to the romantic ambiance. Their luggage had already been brought up and set out on luggage racks next to the dresser, which was across from the bed. Benedict noted that his roses had been placed in the center of the coffee table in front of the love seat.

“This will do nicely,” remarked Benedict as he walked over to the window and gazed out at the bay. “Such a lovely view!”

“We can have breakfast out here tomorrow morning,” declared Donna indicating the table and chairs.

“I was thinking more in terms of having breakfast in bed,” countered Benedict as he turned to face her.

However, Donna had been drawn to the large colorful arrangement of cabbage roses that sat on the coffee table.

_Fuck me! I forgot to lay the card beside them. She’ll just think they’re part of the room décor.  
_

“Oh, look, Benedict! Cabbage roses! My favorites!”

As Donna eagerly bent over to take a sniff of the fragrant blooms, Benedict withdrew the small envelope out of his pocket and dropped it under the coffee table. Much to his dismay, Donna didn’t notice the fallen envelope and kept fussing over the flowers and crystal vase.

“Would you look at this beautiful vase? I’ve never seen anything like it. What a unique rose pattern! I wonder what make it is.”

“It looks like Waterford to me,” said Benedict.

 “Really? I didn’t know you knew anything about crystal.”

_I didn’t until I went online and hoped you would fancy it as much as I did._

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck. “My Gran Pauline used to collect Waterford crystal. Mum set her table with it when you came to Sunday lunch.”

“That stemware was absolutely beautiful! How lucky is Wanda that your grandmother thought so highly of her that she left all her prized tableware to her?”

Benedict chuckled. “I wouldn’t call it luck, nor would I say my Gran thought very highly of Mum.”

Donna started. “What on earth do you mean? It sounds as if you’re implying that your grandmother didn’t care for Wanda.”

“Mum got it due to my aunt's generosity. When Gran passed, all the household items such as the china and silverware were left to Dad's sister, Amber. She decided the proper thing was to divide up everything between Mum and the grandchildren.”

“So, Pauline didn’t care for Wanda?”

“Nope. It started when Dad decided to become an actor. It didn’t sit well with either of my grandparents and caused lots of friction. They had always hoped he’d have a career in the military or politics, but Dad followed his heart and became a thespian. My grandfather passed away well before I was born, so he never met Mum. When Dad met Mum, and my grandmother found out she was an actress, the shit hit the proverbial fan.”

“How could she not like Wanda? She’s just adorable and so kind and funny and…”

“My grandmother could be a very stubborn woman and had her heart set on her only son marrying a woman…from…how can I put this?”

_Just put it, Benedict.  
_

“Mum had a much more…humble upbringing than Dad did. Her parents did manage to send her to finishing school and art school, so it’s not like she’s uneducated or anything close to that. My grandmother was just very narrow-minded about their relationship.”

“Ah, the old rich vs poor conundrum. My Grandpa Colin calls it ‘posh’. Your dad came from a posh family and your mom didn’t.”

Benedict groaned and ran his hand through his hair. “Christ, how I _hate_ being called _posh_! I’m not _posh_. Not at all.”

Donna noted how he practically spat the word ‘posh’.

_I’ve hit a nerve. He doesn’t like that, but for heaven’s sake Tim’s parents were definitely well-to-do from all he’s ever told me about them. I better not probe any further. I have no doubt that good old Mom will find out all there is to know about the Cumberbatch and Ventham sides of the family and will gleefully give me a full report when she gets to London. Lucky me._

“Okay. Will you be offended if I say you came from old money?”

Benedict still looked a bit miffed at her choice of wording.

_I’ll take that as a no._

“I suppose not,” he said almost grudgingly. “Frankly, we are – my family – Mum, Dad and I – middle class at best.”

“Okay. Middle class it is. So, Pauline didn’t approve of your parents dating?”

“Nope. Especially being Mum was still married at the time…”

_I remember reading that in one of the newspaper articles. Mom will definitely know all about the affair._

“…but to be fair, her marriage to James Tabernacle was over and falling in love with Dad just helped give her that push she needed to get the fucking divorce.”

“Well, I guess I can see Pauline’s point. You have to remember that she was part of a whole different generation from your parents. Times and attitudes have changed quite a bit since then.”

_Except in a certain brownstone across from Gramercy Park where judgements are still made every single day of the year._

“She hated when Dad moved into Mum’s flat without getting married, and didn’t speak to him for several years.”

“Oh, no! That’s just awful, Ben!”

“Then Mum became pregnant with me and that brought them back together, especially when Mum finally agreed to marry Dad.”

_I remember that article about Tim having a hard time convincing Wanda to marry him. She was afraid of having another failed marriage. I believe Wanda was six months pregnant with Benedict when they finally married.  
_

“Oh, I’m glad everything turned out well!” exclaimed Donna happily. “It’s never good to hold a grudge…especially where there’s a baby to love.”

Benedict sighed. “Let’s just say that Mum and Gran had a strained relationship at best. They were civil to each other for Dad’s and my sakes, and let’s just leave it at that. Things were much more amiable between Mum’s family and Dad. They loved Dad and readily accepted him into the Ventham family with open arms.” _  
_

“What’s there not to love about Tim? He’s a honey. Just like his son.”

Benedict blushed at her words as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Erm…you’re too kind, Darling.”

_She really knows how to make me feel all happy and loved up. Maybe now is the right time to consummate our love. I so want to show her how she makes me feel. I’m so over the moon right now.  
_

“Donna…”

Donna suddenly reached out and tapped his forearm in excitement. “I know how we can tell the make of the vase! Hold it up so I can take a look underneath.”

_Christ almighty! She’s back to that fucking vase. I want to get laid, and she wants to inspect the vase, bless her._

Benedict resignedly picked up the vase and held it so Donna could easily inspect the bottom.

“Yep. It says Waterford. You were right! Look how it shines, Benedict!” Donna gushed as he carefully set it back down on the coffee table. She tapped the vase with her fingers.

“Did you hear that ping?”

_Yes, I did. Please don’t break it! It’s not even paid for yet!_

“That’s how you can tell good quality crystal. I bet this is a very expensive piece.”

_And you are correct. My bank account can personally vouch for that._

“I wish I had a vase like this.”

_And you do. It’s yours. Why isn’t she seeing the bloody card? It’s amazing how she can spy a dust mote from across the room, but can’t see a damn little envelope right at her feet._

“Hmmm…what’s this? Someone left us a note?” Benedict said as he bent over to pick up the envelope.

“It looks like a tip envelope. I bet it’s a tip that the last guests left for housekeeping,” said Donna.

_For fucks sake! Only she would think of that!  
_

“I really doubt that,” retorted Benedict. “People usually leave those on the bed pillows.”

“I always leave them on a piece of furniture. Those can get lost in the bedclothes.”

_Bully for you. I don’t. And I won’t when we leave here either._

“I don’t think we should open it, Benedict. I’ll just call housekeeping to come up and get it.”

“Umm…it has your name on it,” said Benedict, holding out the envelope to her with a bashful smile on his face.

“My name? How can that be?” Donna looked puzzled and accepted the envelope from him. She immediately recognized Benedict’s hand writing.

_I see he used his nice prep school penmanship to write that rather than that hasty scrawling I need an interpreter for to decipher._

“Are you giving me a tip?” inquired Donna playfully.

“Aren’t you the greedy girl? We’ll have to see how tonight goes,” quipped Benedict with a cheeky grin.

Donna picked up a throw pillow from the love seat and tossed it at Benedict, who tossed it back at her.

“Fuck you!” She hissed, tossing the pillow back at him.

“Now? Before we’ve even had a chance to unpack and freshen up?” asked Benedict in feigned astonishment as he caught the pillow. “Such a dirty mind for so early in the afternoon!” he said sternly, wagging a finger at her. “People will surely talk!” He threw the pillow over her head back onto the loveseat.

_Oh but I’m ready…so ready and randy. Just say the word, and I’m yours. I’m such a tart when it comes to being seduced. One ‘Ben Honey’ ought to do it._

“You really think you’re funny, don’t you?”

“Don’t _you_?”

Donna stared at him, hands on hips. Benedict placed his hands on his slim hips and stared back at her, with a hint of a smile starting to form on his cupids bow lips. Donna finally shook her head and started to laugh.

“What’s this all about?” she asked, gesturing to the card?

“Why don’t you open it and find out then?”

Donna opened the card and read Benedict’ s neat cursive handwriting:

 

**I hope the memories we create together this week, will far outlast these blooms. It is my intent that this crystal vase will serve as a reminder of our love for each other, and I promise to always keep it filled with flowers as a token of the deep and abiding love I feel for you now and forever.  
**

**Yours always, Benedict xx**

_Oh, my honey is so sentimental. I love this man so much! And he used his very best handwriting for once, he usually scribbles so I can't even decipher it. I will keep this note forever._ **  
**

Donna blinked back tears and looked up into Benedict’s ice blue eyes. There were fine lines around them that crinkled as he smiled down at her.

“You bought this for me and arranged to have it here in the room?”

“Yeah. I did. I hope you fancy it.”

Donna hugged him tightly. “You are such a sweet, romantic man, Benedict Cumberbatch; and I love you so much! You are the most thoughtful man I have ever known. Thank you so much. The vase is just beautiful, and I will give it a place of honor in my living room.”

“And I hope in _our_ home one day,” added Benedict wistfully.

Donna stood on her tiptoes and kissed him tenderly. “You can count on it.”

There was a soft knock at the door.

“Did you order anything?” inquired Benedict crossing the room to the door.

There was no response. He turned to see Donna had vanished out onto the balcony.

_So much for trying to set a romantic mood! It almost worked. Bollocks!_

Benedict peered through the peep hole in the door. He could barely see the top of the housekeeper’s head as she was laden down with a stack of fluffy white towels of varying sizes.

 _I wonder who these could be for as if I didn’t know!_ Benedict snickered to himself as he opened the door and accepted them.

“Your missus had asked about getting extra pillows and blankets. Please tell her that there are four extra pillows on the top shelf in the wardrobe and an extra blanket folded in the dresser, should you be needing them. Is everything else in the room satisfactory, Sir?”

Benedict nodded as he handed her a quid. “Yeah, everything is brilliant. Thank you.”

 _My missus. I like the sound of that_ , thought Benedict shutting the door behind him with his foot. _I can’t wait for the day when I have a missus…and children to take on holiday with us. Making sandcastles on the beach, picnics and bike rides around the Heath, camping, Disney World. Donna will insist on Disney World, but not with her parents. No fucking way am I ever going on holiday with those wankers._

“Who was it?” asked Donna as she entered the room. She stopped short upon seeing Benedict with his arms full of towels. “Oh. I forgot to tell you someone would be coming up with a couple of extra towels.”

Benedict regarded her with a perplexed look. “Did you say a couple? This looks like enough to supply all the bloody rooms on this floor!”

Donna rolled her eyes. “I only asked for eight extra bath and four each of the hand and wash cloths – flannels as you call them. Oh, yes. And four extra bath mats because I hate reusing a damp bath mat that someone else has used.”

“Heaven forbid you should have to step on my damp germs,” muttered Benedict, rolling his eyes.

“It has nothing to do with germs. I just think I have the right to a dry bath mat when I get out of the shower.”

“And a dry one you shall have. Do you think these will tide you over until they clean the room tomorrow?” he asked sarcastically. “If you want, I’ll just skip the showers so you won’t run out.”

“You’re making fun of me, Benedict.”

“Yes, I am. Seriously, Love. Have you ever considered that there are other guests in this hotel who may fancy some extra towels? They don’t have an unlimited supply you know.”

“Then they would have told me when I ordered them at the front desk while I was checking us in.”

_She doesn’t get it, bless her. I may as well give up and make a mental note to always request extra towels when booking us a room._

“Where shall I put these then?”

“In the bathroom, please,” replied Donna as she opened the door and hung the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on the latch.

_Okay, Benedict. That was encouraging. Perhaps you can pick up where you left off – all soppy and romantic. Let me get rid of these fucking towels and maybe I can finally get laid._

Benedict opened the door that led to the long, narrow marble bathroom. There was a glassed-in shower large enough for two and a huge soaking tub at the end of the room, which looked out onto the sea.

“You must come and see this bathroom, Donna! It’s extraordinary.”

Donna was right behind him in a flash.

_It’s large by European standards, not by American. I do like that the bathroom is between us and the neighboring room. We won’t be able to hear any noise from them, and they won’t hear us._

“That’s one deep soaking tub, I must say,” she mused. “I think I’ll need a step stool to get in it.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll help you,” said Benedict, placing the towels on a small bench. “I’ll make sure to get in and out first. Oh, and don’t worry about the bath mat being damp. I’ll make sure to lay down a dry bathmat for your personal use.”

“You can be such a dick.”

“You’re the one who’s obsessed with towels. I could give two shits to be honest.”

“You’ll thank me when you put your feet on a nice, dry bath mat tomorrow morning.”

Benedict ignored her. “I like the window over the tub. We’ll be able to see the water from there.”

Donna frowned. _There’s only one sink. That may be a problem getting ready in the morning. I’ll just make sure to get up early, and I’d better make damn sure to save him a fair share of the towels or I will never hear the end of it._

“Look! We even have our own bidet,” remarked Benedict peeking inside the separate small room containing the toilet and bidet along with its own sink. There was a stand next to the bidet holding a hand towel.

“I’ve never used one,” declared Donna. “There not all that common in America.”

“I find them very …useful. I’ll be happy to demonstrate how to use it.”

“Not literally, I hope.”

Benedict’s face reddened. “Of course not!”

“They left us robes on the back of the door,” noted Donna, feeling the terry cloth. _Mmm…nice and plush. Let me check to see if they launder them in between guests._

Benedict watched in amusement as she smelled them.

_What in the fuck is she doing?  
_

“Donna, why are you smelling the robes?”

“To make sure they’ve been washed. I always check.”

_Of course she does, bless her._

“Are they…clean then?”

“Yeah. Freshly laundered.”

“I suppose you’re going to smell the slippers they left us on the shelf under the vanity?”

Donna fixed him with a look as if he had grown two heads.

_Of course she is. Silly me for even thinking such a thing.  
_

“How could you even consider putting something on your bare feet that someone else may have worn?” _  
_

“I hang my head in shame. I never give it a second thought. I use the hotel provided robes and slippers with reckless abandon, I’m afraid.”

Donna looked horrified. “You never know what people have, Benedict. You need to check these things out before putting them on your body. You can catch fungus or warts or worse!”

Benedict looked at the slippers and involuntarily shuddered. He dropped the pair he was holding back onto the shelf.

_Hmmm…I never considered that. She might just actually have a point._

Donna gingerly picked up the slippers and sniffed them.

“Do the slippers meet with your approval then?”

“Yep. Feel free to use them.”

“Thank you,” laughed Benedict helping himself to the larger pair and following Donna back into the room. “So, do you fancy a drink out on our balcony or perhaps a lie down before dinner?”

_Or sex. We could have hot sex or do some serious snogging that will hopefully lead to the hot sex._

“I think I want to unpack first. Then I have to start my column.”

_Glad I thought to pack all those books. Maybe I can talk her into a little snogging first._

“You’re going to write your column _now_?”

“It has to be a work in progress while my mind is fresh.”

“You took notes at lunch.”

“Oh, yes. I need those to refer back to. You’ve seen me do it for my column many times. I’ve got a whole week to report on, so I need to keep current.”

_You’re trying to pressure her, Benedict. Remember, she is here to work. I’m just along to have a nice, relaxing holiday…and lots and lots of sex._

“In that case I think I’ll unpack and have a lie down then,” said Benedict with resignation as he unzipped his suitcase.

_I suppose the sex will have to wait until after dinner. I’m in too much of a rush…always thinking with my knob. I need to relax now and then make it my goal to make love to her properly – the way she deserves to be treated – after dinner. Since I’m the one who made such a fuss about doing things the proper way, I’d better make sure I follow through and keep my word._

“Wait! I haven’t checked the room for signs of bedbugs or disinfected anything yet!”

“Are you shitting me?” asked Benedict incredulously. “This is a fucking five-star hotel, Donna! What in bloody hell do you think they have housekeepers for?”

“I check _all_ hotel rooms I stay in,” sniffed Donna, with a toss of her head. “My mom taught me to always check the room before unpacking or using the bathroom. I remember one time she found a bug in our room in New Orleans when we went for Mardi Gras.”

_And our whole stay was comped that trip. They even paid for dinner that night at Commander’s Palace in order to make it up to Mom for ruining our vacation experience._

Benedict watched in fascination as Donna opened her toiletries bag and extracted a packet of Clorox brand disinfecting wipes. She began to wipe down the room phone.

 _I guess I’ll watch some telly while she does whatever the fuck she’s going to do_ , thought Benedict as he reached for the remote.

“Don’t touch that remote!” snapped Donna in horror.

Benedict yanked his hand back from the remote as if he’d been burned.

“What the fuck is wrong with it!?”

“Remote controls harbor the most germs of anything in a hotel room – even the toilet,” explained Donna, picking up the remote and wiping it down. She held it out to him. “Here. Now, it’s germ-free.”

“Can I sit on the couch or do you have to do something to that, too?”

“I sense a note of sarcasm in your voice, Benedict.”

_Yes, Donna. You sense correctly. This is just motherfucking ridiculous. And I thought Mum was weird with her insistence on using seat covers in public loos and when I was away at school._

“This is a tad over-the-top, don’t you think?”

“You’ll thank me when you don’t get sick.”

“I’ll be out on the balcony. Let me know when it’s safe to use the room.”

 

 

 

Benedict sat on the balcony watching the sea gulls swooping down to feed on bread crumbs that a young couple was tossing to them on the beach. He continued to observe them as they walked along hand-in-hand, pausing to hug and kiss in the sunshine and found himself feeling envious and frustrated.

 _That’s what Donna and I should be doing._ _Christ, she’s been at it for over half an hour. How fucking long does it take to wipe down a toilet seat and some knobs. I wish to hell she’d spend some time rubbing my knob instead of the ones in the bloody room.  
_

“Benedict, I’m done!”

_Ah, finally. A germ-free room awaits me! Jolly good!_

Benedict went back into the room to find that not only had Donna disinfected the room, but she had also unpacked all of their things into the drawers and the wardrobe. The empty luggage had been carefully stored away under the bed along with the folded up luggage racks. He noted the duvet had also been turned down.

_She turned down the duvet! That’s encouraging. Maybe she’s knackered now from re-cleaning the bloody room and wants to have a lie down herself._

“I put your shaving kit in the bathroom on the shelf where the slippers were. That way we won’t clutter up the vanity.”

“I’m perfectly capable of unpacking my own things, _Sweetheart_.”

_Oh, oh. That’s the sarcastic version of Sweetheart._

“It was my way of apologizing for making you nuts with my hotel OCD. You’re here on vacation, and I want you to relax and not pick up anything.”

“I realize you only meant well. I would hate for one of us to catch something. Is it safe to touch everything now?”

Donna nodded. “Yep. Everything in this room is one hundred percent safe to touch.”

Benedict cocked an eyebrow at Donna as he moved closer to her with a predatory smile on his face. “Even _you_?”

“Even me,” giggled Donna. “You may feel free to co-mingle your germs with mine all you want once I’m done writing.”

“I really fancy a bit of a mingle _now_ ,” said Benedict picking up Donna and carrying her over to the bed.   He set her down on her back, toed off his shoes and lay down beside her. “Alone at last,” he purred running his hand over her thigh and hip.

Donna turned onto her side and wrapped her arms around him as she began to kiss him fervently.

“You are a bad influence on me, Ben Honey,” she sighed in between kisses. “Those lips of yours are such a distraction.”

Benedict smiled as he returned her kisses with equal fervor. “Glad to hear it. A little snogging session before you write will get your creative juices flowing.”

_I highly doubt that, Benedict. It’s going to get other juices flowing instead._

Benedict whispered in her ear between kisses. “Part of me was getting very jealous while you were in here rubbing down all the knobs, and I was all alone outside wishing I were the one being rubbed.”

“Let me guess,” she said kissing him on the nose. “It was _your_ knob that needed the rubbing.”

Donna reached down and stroked the bulge in his jeans. He instinctively pushed against her hand in order to gain some friction.

“What do _you_ think?” He asked with a throaty laugh.

Benedict’s hand began to slowly move upwards and underneath Donna’s top. She sighed as he tentatively caressed her full breasts through her bra.

“Okay?” he breathed, fingertips ghosting over her hardened nipples.

“Mmmm…I’m supposed to be working on my column.”

“Fuck the column and fuck me instead,” Benedict growled, as he adjusted her hand on the growing bulge. “I need some more friction, Donna. I can barely feel your touch.”

“I _really_ have to get my work done first, Ben Honey. Then we can play. I’ll rub your knob all you want once I’m finished.”

“I really want you to rub it _now_ ,” he persisted, grinding against her hand for emphasis.

Donna noticed his breathing becoming more rapid as his hand wandered down to cup her bottom and squeeze it. Then he hand made its way to her crotch and settled in between her legs, rubbing gently so as she could barely decipher his touch through the fabric.

“Are your creative juices flowing yet?”

“Yes, you sexy bastard! I am so fucking wet right now,” Donna hissed. "I really, really should be writing right now."

“What shall we do about it then? I imagine it would be terribly uncomfortable trying to write in damp knickers,” he said, licking the shell of her ear and running his long fingers along the insides of her thighs.

Donna grazed her nails over his bulge eliciting a moan from Benedict.

“I imagine those jeans of yours must feel incredibly tight by now. What should we do about that?”

“I thought you wanted to write…”

Donna sat up and pushed Benedict back against the pillows. He cocked an eyebrow at her as she deftly unzipped his jeans. He sighed appreciatively as the pressure on his crotch was relieved.

“You’re a little cock tease, Donna Saint James!” growled Benedict. “I need you to take me. Now... Please. This is maddening.”

_Honey needs an appetizer before the main course. Fuck that – “I” need an appetizer before the main course or I’m never going to get any work done._

“How about lifting those sexy hips of yours, and give me a hand.”

“I’d be more than happy to give you a hand,” he smiled, lifting his hips so Donna could pull down his jeans. She made sure to maintain eye contact with him as she tossed them on the floor. He watched as the tip of her tongue slowly and sensuously licked her lips.

_I fucking love when she looks at me like this. I can see the desire in her eyes and the way she licks those lips. I think I may actually swoon._

“I approve of your blue briefs. I loooove how they hug those strong thighs of yours,” purred Donna with a sultry smile as she leaned down to plant gentle kisses from his navel down to the waistband of his boxer briefs. “I love your ginger treasure trail.”

Benedict could feel the blood pounding in his ears as his heart rate began to accelerate from his arousal. He watched as Donna stroked his penis through the thin fabric of his pants.

_Hmmm…I see a wet spot already. He’s horny as hell. I want to give him some release.  
_

“I see _your_ creative juices are also starting to flow,” she teased. “I need you to lift your hips again, Ben Honey.”  

_Christ, the power of the spoken word…I can actually feel myself getting stiffer whenever she calls me that._

Benedict did as she asked, and Donna quickly removed his pants, setting his straining erection free. She remained on her knees and leaned down again so as to take him into her mouth.

_This won’t take long. He’s primed and ready. A few good sucks and he’s as good as done._

“No,” he rasped. “I don’t want to be serviced. I want to go down on you, too, Donna.” _  
_

_Does he mean he wants to do sixty-nine?  
_

“Do you mean at the _same time_?”

“Un huh. Now, stop talking and straddle me…I’m starting to get impatient!”

_Did he say ‘starting’ to get impatient? Good thing I read about how to do this in Cosmo.  
_

_I can’t take much more of this. I feel like I’m going to fucking explode._

_Jeez….he’s going to see me totally naked in broad daylight. Why did I leave the fucking drapes wide open? I never realized just how bright daylight can be. I’m used to being with him in very dim lighting.  
_

Benedict’s voice dropped an octave lower as his eyes bore into her, pupils fully dilated and dark with desire. _  
_

“I want to taste you, Donna. I want to feel your soft, silkiness on my tongue. I want to lick and suck every damn inch of your gorgeous cunt until you beg me for sweet release….and I promise you that it will be sweet.”

_That voice of his…It has such an effect on me. I’m so wet. No. I’m soaked. Absolutely, positively soaked. No other man has ever done that to me._

“Oh, Ben…edict,” was all Donna could manage to say in a small voice. She felt as if she couldn’t move.

_I really wanted to shower before he got down to business south of the border. I don’t want to turn him off with any funky feminine odor.  
_

“I was hoping to have time to freshen up before you ventured down there.”

Benedict took her hand and sucked suggestively on her middle finger.

“Ben..um..I don’t want you to…well, you know…not until I’ve had a chance…”

“A chance to what?” he asked, drawing her finger into his mouth again.

_What was I going to say???_

“…a chance to…you know…freshen up…”

_She’s worried I’m going to be turned off by her scent. She’s always in the shower for fucks sake! Her hygiene is so impeccable I could eat my dinner off her body - now, that is a novel idea.  She needn't be concerned about whether she smells or not. I have no worries about that._

“I’m sure you smell and taste delicious, Sweetheart. How about letting me judge for myself? I want to smell your natural muskiness mingled with your sweet perfume that I find...oh...so...enticing,” he said, pressing his crotch against her leg for emphasis.

_That fucking seductive voice of his! I want him so badly right now, but I need to start that column.  
_

Benedict sucked on her finger harder, eyes riveted on hers. _  
_

“You bewitch me, my Darling Donna. Come. Allow me to show you how I feel.”

_Oh, the hell with the motherfucking column. My clit is throbbing so much, I can’t stand it. Maybe I won’t have to take everything off…he’s still wearing his t-shirt._

To Benedict’s delight Donna got off the bed, unzipped her capri pants and quickly stepped out of them, kicking them into the pile behind her. Benedict had begun to stroke himself as he eyed her up and down in her black panties, which were embroidered with white eyelet flowers.

_Christ, she looks so fucking hot standing there in broad daylight. She looks uncomfortable though. I need to stop the blatant staring, but the sight of her body is such a turn on.  
_

_There is something so sexy about watching him touch himself and knowing that I’m the one turning him on like that.  
_

“I need to have access to you, Darling,” he said in a hoarse voice.

_What is he talking about? Oh! He wants me to remove my panties._

Donna hesitated and shimmied out of her panties, also kicking them back onto the growing pile of discarded clothing behind her. She smiled nervously at Benedict as his eyes hungrily roved over her lower body. She sat down on the bed beside him, hand demurely covering her vulva.

_For fucks sake! I’ve seen and touched her so many times already. Why the sudden shyness? Could it be the daylight? Is it the thought of my going down on her? She’s been giving off signals that she wants me to for the longest time. I can’t help it if she was on her period and then got that yeast infection. Now, I can finally please her orally, and she’s having second thoughts? I need to do something to break the ice. She looks unsure as to what to do next. I’ll make the decision for her._

Before Donna knew what had happened, Benedict had lifted her up and placed her in a straddling position just below his chin, with her bottom facing him. Then she felt him adjust her until he was able to reach her genitals easily with his mouth.

_Oh my God! This is like that dream I had where Benedict and I were at Disney World, and I was cheating on Danny with him!_

“Lean forward and stretch out until you can comfortably reach my dick,” he instructed.

Benedict suddenly felt Donna’s small hand surround the base of his penis and begin moving up and down whilst sucking his glans at the same time. He felt shivers up and down his spine at the contact.

“FUCK YES. JUST. LIKE. THAT!”

 _I’m not totally clueless, Ben Honey. I do read Cosmo._ _I know all about sixty-nine thanks to last July's issue._

Donna felt Benedict’s warm tongue began to lap gently at her folds while he held onto her hips.

_Oh God, she smells and tastes amazing to me. How can a man not be turned on by his lover’s scent?_

_Ooooooo…that tickles a bit. I need to relax and concentrate on what he’s doing_ , thought Donna as she began to lick around his foreskin, which had already retracted.

His tongue continued the lapping motion.

_Shit…that really tickles. Oh my God. I need to get off of him._

“Mmmmm. Mmmmmm,” He murmured with each stroke of her tongue along his frenulum.  

_Ooooo…when he makes sounds that really tickles something fierce! Ooooo!_

_That feels so fucking good, but why is she squirming like that?_

Donna felt his tickling tongue suddenly cease its lapping.

“Is that not good, Darling?”

“It tickles! Please stop,” giggled Donna, turning her head to look back at him. “I’m feeling a bit nervous…and self-conscious to tell you the truth. It’s so…bright in here. Can we close the drapes?”

“And deny myself this delightful view of you? No fucking way. It’s my turn to be the greedy one. Besides, I need light to see what I’m doing,” insisted Benedict.

Donna felt him move his index finger to her swollen pink nub so as to make small deliberate circles around it. The feeling was exquisite – like a pinpoint of the most extreme pleasure she had ever felt. And she found herself wanting more.

“Does _this_ tickle?”

_FUCK NO! That sure as shit does not!_

“No... No it doesn’t. That’s your dirty-minded texting finger from the feel of it…and it feels very…nice. No. Not just nice. This feels so intense and good,” she panted. “Please don’t stop what you’re doing…OH, BEN!”

_Okay, I’ll use my fingers for a couple of minutes then try using my mouth on her again. Shit. She forgot about me. That’s the drawback with mutual pleasuring. It’s terribly hard to concentrate on giving and receiving.  
_

Benedict raised his hips towards her. “Darling, if you wouldn’t mind…”

 _OH! I forgot about him!_ _God, this position is not easy. I got caught up in what he’s doing…oh, my God, does that feel good. I need to concentrate on him now._

Donna quickly leaned forward to take him back into her mouth when she noticed his feet.

_Jesus Christ! Am I seeing what I think I’m seeing? How did I miss these before? I was in such a hurry to undress him, all I saw were black socks.  
_

Benedict’s feet were clad in black socks that had little owls on them, clad in beach attire. Some had sunglasses on, others swim trunks. The background had little beach balls, umbrellas and the sun scattered around.

“You’ve got a new pair of owl socks! When did you get these?” Donna tittered. “They’re vacation socks! Oh, my God! This is too funny!”

_For fucks sake! I’m so desperate to come! I’m trying to make her come, and she’s concentrating on my damn motherfucking socks!  
_

“They’re so cute! Did Wanda buy them for you?”

“No. I bought them as a joke.”

_And now the joke’s on me. I’m starting to get soft.  
_

“As you were, Darling, before there’s nothing left to suck on.” _  
_

“The ones wearing the sunglasses are killing me! Did you get them at that sock store on Oxford Street?”

“Donna! I don’t want to talk about my fucking socks! I want us to pleasure each other in the worst way, and this is not contributing to the romantic mood.”

 _Fuckity, fuck, fuck!_ he thought in disgust _. Mood successfully broken thanks to these motherfucking socks I had to go buy.  
_

Donna looked in dismay at Benedict’s now semi-flaccid penis. _  
_

_Oh, he’s getting limp on me. I shouldn’t have mentioned the socks; but they really are hilarious.  
_

_I need to get us both back on the orgasm track. Enough bullshit! I will not suffer through another case of blue balls.  
_

Before Donna knew what had happened, Benedict had rolled her off of him onto her back. This time he parted her legs and positioned himself in between. He placed his hands under her bottom and slid her down towards him.

“Oooooo what are you doing, Benedict?” she squealed in surprise.

_Did I just squeal? Yes. I squealed. How embarrassing._

“What I should have done before I had that bright idea of attempting sixty-nine. Shut your eyes and relax,” he commanded in a low, almost menacing voice. “You _will_ enjoy this if it’s the last fucking thing I do. Pardon the pun.”

Donna found his words very arousing, as she obediently closed her eyes.

_My God. If this is Benedict being dominant, it is very sexy.  
_

_Now, let me go down on her properly._

Benedict began to gently nuzzle her pubic hair and drop soft, gentle butterfly kisses on her vulva. Then she felt him spread her lips open and bury his nose and lips in her, first drinking in her scent.

“You are beautiful,” he said softly. “Such an arousing scent…the scent of my woman, my lover...my everything. I love you.” _  
_

_Keep talking, Benedict. Keep talking…ah…ah…this does not tickle. This is definitely not tickling at all. This is bringing me right back to where I just was…the orgasmic plateau according to Cosmo.  
_

“I’m going to taste you again. Just relax and concentrate on what you’re feeling. All I ask is that you tell me if you don’t like what I’m doing.”

 _I will. I will. I swear I will._ _Just fucking lick me you sexy bastard!_

Donna felt his flattened tongue begin using wide, slow strokes on her inner and outer lips. His licking was slow and deliberate with enough pressure, causing her to tingle down to her toes.

“Jesus, that feels so good, Benedict. Oh, my God! Yes, yes, yes.”

Benedict gently began to lick circles around her clit, causing Donna to moan with pleasure. She felt the tip of his tongue begin to probe her clit directly, very gently at first, then with increasing pressure as her arousal level grew. She felt herself instinctively buck her hips towards him to further increase the friction.

_My God! This is fucking heaven! I want to come, but I don’t want this feeling to stop. It’s deliciously maddening!_

_Hmmm…she’s moving her hips towards me. Donna seems to like direct stimulation. Anna couldn’t bear to have her clit touched like this._

“Is direct good then?”

“YES! I like. I like. I like. Faster…please.”

_OH. MY. FUCKING. GOD. I’m almost there! That back and forth motion is going to push me right over the edge._

“Can I use my finger to penetrate you?”

“NOT NOW! Be quiet and put that tongue back where it was! Do what you were doing and don’t stop until I come!”

 _Someone’s rather bossy in bed when she’s getting close_ , chuckled Benedict to himself as Donna pulled his head closer to her pelvis. _She wants tongue, and I shall give it to her. I think I know what will bring her to climax.  
_

Donna felt the tension quickly building in her groin area and found herself focused on the insistent probing and lapping of Benedict’s tongue. Each touch was making her more and more sensitive and hungry for release.

“I’m so close, Benedict! This feels incredible.”

Benedict swirled his tongue around her clitoris and gently took it between his lips and sucked. He felt her thighs begin to quiver as she pressed against his face and began to gasp and moan loudly.

“Sweet Jesus! BENEDICT! Benedict! Benedict!”

Donna felt pure waves of bliss as her orgasm swept over her. She could feel the deep uterine contractions and her toes curling. It was a feeling she didn’t want to end.

_OH. That was amazing. Now I understand why Giada is always raving about oral. I get it. It’s so damn good when your man knows what he’s doing._

All of a sudden, Donna felt Benedict’s tongue begin to lick around her still sensitive clit without using direct pressure. She could tell he was moving his tongue in different directions as if to tease her.

_What is he doing? Oh my GOD…I…want to come again!! I need to come again!_

Donna felt her arousal rapidly return to the point where it felt as if another climax were imminent. She suddenly found herself on the brink of another orgasm. Once again, Benedict’s tongue did the trick.

“BENEDICT!” Donna gasped as she experienced a second climax, fingers tangled in his hair.

 _Ah, the lady is capable of multiple orgasms. Well done me,_ thought Benedict smugly. _Shall I try for three? Maybe not this time, that might be gilding the lily._

Benedict gently untangled her fingers from his hair and raised his head to look up at Donna, who was lying still with her eyes still tightly closed. Her breathing was still a bit ragged as he climbed over her leg to lie beside her.

“Donna? You okay?” he asked tentatively, smoothing her hair back off her face.   Her forehead was damp with perspiration. _  
_

_Is he fucking kidding me? Am I okay?_

She opened her eyes to find Benedict lying beside her, his mouth and chin glistening with her juices as his ice blue eyes studied her intently. She could clearly see the love in them.

Donna smiled widely at him and reached out to stroke his cheek. “I am soooo okay,” she said, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. “You truly have an amazing tongue. I’ve never been able to enjoy oral sex before. Ever. It either tickled or hurt or the assholes didn’t know where to put their tongues.”

“That’s because the other dolts you’ve been with didn’t know how to do it properly,” bragged Benedict. “I’m a firm believer in not rushing through to the finish line. One has to enjoy the journey yes?”

“Oh, and enjoy I did. My God. I can’t believe I came twice in a row. That’s never happened to me before. Words fail me right now.”

_Thank God I was able to please her. I’m so over the moon._

Benedict turned briefly to take a handful of tissues from the bedside box and wiped his face. “Kiss me then,” he said softly, leaning in towards her.

 _So this is what I taste like_ , thought Donna as their lips met. _Bodily fluids are definitely an acquired taste. Speaking of which…  
_

Donna broke the kiss and raised herself up on her elbows. Benedict was looking at her expectantly. Her eyes darted down to his crotch to see that he was partially erect.

“On your back, please,” she commanded.

“What for?” He asked with a knowing smirk.

“Any man who’s capable of giving me such an intense and satisfying climax – let alone two, deserves to be rewarded.”

Benedict smiled wickedly at her. “So, it’s time to collect my reward then.”

“I can always start to work on my column if you’d rather I didn’t show my appreciation…”

Benedict quickly fluffed up the pillows and propped himself up so he was in a half reclining/half sitting position against the headboard.

“I’m ready to be appreciated,” he said with a wink.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. The rooms at the Nare Hotel didn’t have the configuration I wanted for this story, so I borrowed room photos from elsewhere. Their actual rooms really are quite lovely. 
> 
> 2\. The Commander’s Palace is one of the best restaurants in New Orleans.
> 
> 3\. I don't know what the real relationship was between Wanda and Timothy's mother. It will have been 'tense' for the purposes of this story. 
> 
> 4\. Happy Birthday to Una Stubbs!
> 
> 5\. I am poking fun at myself with Donna's disinfecting of the hotel room. I'm every bit as neurotic when it comes to that.


	87. Chapter 87

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part Three of the Cornwall Holiday: Benedict tackles the swallowing ‘problem’. Benedict and Donna consummate their love – Part One. 
> 
> Note: I’ll be using ********** to indicate things happening at the same time.

 

Benedict Cumberbatch stirred and opened his eyes. The sheer curtains had been drawn, affording a sense of privacy while allowing the early evening light to filter in. He pushed himself into a sitting position and yawned as he lazily scratched his flat stomach. The naked lower half of his body had been covered with the duvet that he had kicked off the bed earlier. Donna was sitting at the desk across the room busily typing on her laptop. She had apparently showered and was wearing the smaller of the two hotel bathrobes, hair wrapped in a towel so it resembled a turban.

_That was the longest blow job I’ve ever had in my life! I was up and down so much my peen felt like a bloody lift. I guess it was worth it in the end. It was so fucking intense when I finally did come, it almost bordered on painful._

“How long was I asleep?” Benedict asked groggily, trying to focus on his watch. “It’s almost six?”

Donna ceased typing and swiveled around in the ergonomic chair in order to face the bed. Benedict could see that she had removed and carefully reapplied her makeup.

“Did you have a nice nap? You’ve been out cold for a good two hours.”

Benedict stretched and stifled another yawn. “I only meant to have a short kip…twenty minutes at most. You were supposed to wake me.”

_Shit! I was hoping to have time to discuss her swallowing before dinner. I need enough time to tactfully address this before things start to get worse than they are. Especially, since we’ll be spending our lives together. We have to have complete honesty in all things, bed included._

“You were tired from all your efforts. You were sleeping so peacefully that I didn’t have the heart to disturb you.”

_I appreciate that, too. She’s right about that. I was knackered, and my jaw does ache a bit, but it was worth it to give her so much pleasure.  
_

“What time do we have to be down to dinner?”

“Seven.”

“Brilliant. I have just enough time for a quick shower and shave then,” he mused, feeling the first signs of stubble growth on his chin.

_I don’t want to irritate her skin during our first time together. If I hurry perhaps there will also be time left over for a talk. I need to figure out how to best approach such a delicate topic without insulting her. She’s trying so hard to please me.  
_

_Benedict wants to shave so his skin is super smooth for tonight. He’s always so considerate. I hated when Danny had that damn goatee. It used to scratch my skin whenever we kissed._

Benedict kicked back the covers and bounded out of bed. He noticed Donna eyeing his semi-nakedness hungrily.

_I can never get enough of his body. Just look at those strong swimmer’s legs…those slim hips, those muscular thighs…that package...and that plump, sexy butt of his._

_Just drink me in, Donna! I must look like quite the dorky arse hole standing here in just a t-shirt and joke socks. To be fair she kept her top on while we were fooling around, too. I realize she wasn’t totally comfortable being half-naked in broad daylight. I’ll make sure the lighting is dim and romantic tonight. I’ll do my damnedest to ensure she’s feeling utterly at ease.  
_

“Did you finish your work?” Benedict inquired as he went to the wardrobe in order to get a change of clothes. 

He opened the left hand door to find his clothes neatly hung up with his shoes perfectly lined up in a row on the floor underneath them.

_Ah, she hung up everything on the left side – just like at her place, bless her. I hope I can find my clean pants and socks._

“I just finished doing my first impressions of the hotel and reviewing lunch. They made a superb Welsh rarebit. Their bacon supplier gets major kudos. It had just the right ratio of fat to meat.”

“Did you remember to mention that the grape chutney on my ham sandwich was a bit too sweet?”

“Thanks for the reminder! No, I had omitted that. However, the house-baked whole grain bread and ham were both excellent.”

“The chutney was very tasty in its own right,” reflected Benedict. “You might say it would have been better served over a scoop of vanilla ice cream.”

Donna giggled. “You’re right! It did remind me of a dessert topping. The chef needed some more acid to balance the flavors. Speaking of dessert, that hot buttered toasted saffron cake was delicious. I’m going to request the recipe.”

  
“Jolly good. Then you can bake one for me,” smiled Benedict with a wink as he began to open the drawers on the left hand side of the dresser.

Benedict found that his wallet, mobile, keys, sunglasses, lip balm and loose change stored in the top drawer. His pants, socks and pajamas had been neatly stacked in the middle drawer. The bottom drawer contained his books, camera and other miscellaneous items he had brought along.

_Just as I suspected. I have been relegated to the left side no matter where we are. I noticed she took everything off the dresser top and tucked it away. It was rather nice not to have to unpack, but I don’t want her to do this all the time. Next time we travel, I’ll be sure to take care of that first thing._

Benedict paused to kiss Donna on the way to the bathroom. She could smell and taste her own lingering scent on his lips, causing her to grimace slightly.

“If it makes you feel any better, you still taste like semen,” he quipped.

_Damn! I shouldn’t have waited this long to brush my teeth._

Donna began to get up. “Sorry! I’ll brush my teeth now.”

Benedict gently pushed her back down and squatted in front of her. He took both of her hands in his and kissed the back of each one.

_Brilliant timing! I’ll be as diplomatic as possible so as not to hurt her feelings. She wasn’t afraid to tell me when my tongue was tickling her; so I shouldn’t be timid to tell her about the gagging._

“I was hoping we could have a little chat before I change,” Began Benedict.

_Oh, oh. He’s going to bring up the fact that I unpacked for him. I knew I shouldn’t have, especially after I promised to leave his stuff alone. Not to mention he's going to do it with his package dangling down in front of me. All I have to do is reach out and I could... SHIT!  He caught me looking him over. Jeez Louise. It's getting warm in here, Donna; and you 've got work to do.  I hope this isn't going to take long.  
_

_She's staring at my bits for fucks sake! Ah, now she's averted her eyes because I caught her. Now, she looks very nervous. Oh Ho! I bet she thinks I’m going to dress her down for unpacking my things. I really should to make my point, but now isn’t the right time. Here goes nothing…_

“I so appreciate that you tried swallowing again, Darling. It was very sweet of you to want to do that for me,” he smiled at her.

“I managed to get it to stay down this time,” said Donna proudly. “I only gagged once.

“Four times, but who’s counting?”

“You, apparently.”

_Jeez. I thought he didn’t notice this time._

_That was cheeky, Benedict. Be tactful. She’s so eager to please you._

Benedict took her chin in his hand and looked deep into her gold-flecked hazel eyes.

“Listen to me, Donna. It’s a lovely sentiment to want to swallow my cum, but it isn’t obligatory. Oral sex is just as gratifying to me without your swallowing. It only serves to distract me from what I’m feeling when I hear you gagging like that.”

_Oh, oh.   I had no idea he was paying any attention to me. I thought he was off on his little bliss-filled cloud._

Donna bit her lower lip. “I’m getting better at it, don’t you think?”

_No, I don’t. I need to be honest with her._

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck. “Errmm…No.   It’s rather obvious that you’re not enjoying it.”

Donna sighed. “I really am trying, Ben.”

“I know you are, but this afternoon was…well…it was the pinnacle. I was in the midst of such an intense climax when I heard this loud gagging coming from you. It detracts from the moment as I find myself listening for it to start or when I once again see the look of disgust on your face.”

_If he wasn’t watching, he would never know; but he gets off on watching – he’s told me that several times. I really thought I was being quiet about it. The chocolate mints don't even help anymore.  
_

“I’m sorry, Benedict. I’ll get better with practice. You know that old saying: practice makes perfect.”

He shook his head. “The taste of my semen is never going to change. It may vary slightly in terms of the degree of saltiness and bitterness; but I’m afraid no amount of pineapple in the world is going to make it more palatable for you. As you once told me, it’s an acquired taste; and I’m afraid it’s one that you’re not acquiring despite your best efforts.”

“I know how important it is to men for their lover to swallow…”

“Not to this man it isn’t.”

“I realize you’re only trying to make me feel better, and I appreciate it. However, I feel like a fellatio failure. I wouldn’t blame you if you took my badge away,” she said sadly.

Benedict chuckled. “Excuse me, but I’m the only one who is allowed to pass judgement since I’m the recipient; and I assure you that I’m utterly satisfied with what you’ve been doing. I think you know me well enough to recognize that I’m not lying to you.”

“I’m not quite sure how to remedy it next time. I love going down on you, Benedict.”

“And I love your going down on me.”

“However, spitting it out doesn’t seem like a very elegant...or respectful solution,” she said anxiously.

“For fucks sake, Donna! When I reach the point of no return, I frankly don’t give a shit what you’re doing or not doing – as long as I don’t hear gagging sounds or see such a grim expression on your face. It’s such an intimate way for you to express your love to me, and it means so much to me that you enjoy doing it. I think the best solution is for you to simply spit it out. I’ll let you know when I’m about to come, and you can either spit it out in a tissue or cover me with a tissue to absorb it. This way you don’t have to swallow, and I’m left to enjoy my orgasm without the awful sound effects or seeing that look of displeasure on your face. Okay?”

_Oh, that’s more than okay! That’s the best news I’ve had all day._

Donna nodded with obvious relief. “I’m glad you understand.”

“Of course I do, and I have to admit that I don’t blame you. I’ve tasted myself before on my lovers’ lips during kisses. So now that we’ve sorted the swallowing dilemma, I think I’ll take that shower. Do I have to call housekeeping or did you manage to leave me some towels?” he said teasingly.

“Smart ass! There’s enough to get us through tonight and tomorrow morning.”

“Shall I call and request that extras be left every morning then?”

“Nope. I already left instructions when I checked in that we need lots of extra towels every day that we’re here.”

“ _You_ need extra towels every day. I could make do with what they left for two days easy.”

Donna got to her feet and followed Benedict into the bathroom. He felt her hand stop him from closing the door behind him and turned to look at her.

“Fancy _another_ shower?” he asked with raised eyebrows. “I don’t think there are enough towels for both of us.”

“No. I just need to use the hairdryer. Do you mind?”

Benedict shook his head as he turned on the shower. “Not at all.”

Donna unwrapped the towel turban and began to carefully comb out the knots with an extra wide-tooth comb that she had set out on the vanity top, along with a finer tooth one, large barrel brush and two hair products – one for shine and one for sleekness. As she turned to plug in the hair dryer, her elbow accidentally knocked the brush to the floor where it rolled across to floor to where Benedict was busy selecting towels.

“Watch behind you, Benedict!” warned Donna rushing towards him.

_Oh my God! He’s going to fall, hit his head on the shower door and die! It’ll be all my fault!  
_

_What in the fuck is she talking about? OH FUCK! Whoa!!!_

Benedict turned but had already inadvertently stepped back on the brush, causing him to lose his balance. He fell on the floor before she could reach him. Luckily, he wound up on his backside on top of the used towels which Donna had folded neatly and left on the floor.

“Motherfucker! What in the hell was that?”

“My brush,” said Donna, biting her lower lip as she stood before him.   “I accidentally knocked it off the vanity. Are you alright?”

Benedict nodded. “Thanks to your tower of dirty towels and my natural padding, I’m fine.” He stared at the brush as he picked it up and handed it back to her. _This motherfucker is huge! I could have been killed._ “You can take comfort in the fact that your brush also escaped injury,” he added with a flash of annoyance.

“I’m so sorry. I’ll make an effort to be extra careful.”

Benedict found himself staring at Donna’s bare feet as he started to get up.

“Bloody hell! You had the bollocks to poke fun at _my_ socks before. Just look at _your_ toes! You’ve got fucking seahorses painted on your big toes…and are those starfish?”

“Yes. Those are starfish on my smaller toes.”

“Christ.”

“I wanted to keep with the beach theme, but these toes can’t hold a candle to your vacationing owl socks,” she giggled.

“Well done us,” smirked an amused Benedict as he stripped off his remaining clothes and stepped into the shower.

Donna started to dry her hair and found to her delight that she had a perfect view of Benedict taking a shower reflected in the mirror over the vanity.

_Ah ha! I can see how he goes about showering. He washes his hair first, which is what I do. Now, it looks like he’s using conditioner…yes, it’s the hotel conditioner. He’s going to leave it in – excellent. Roy used to rinse it right out. That’s why Benedict’s hair is always so soft. I wish the glass wasn’t starting to fog over. I can barely see him. Just when he’s getting to the interesting part. Wait…he didn’t put the bathroom fan on._

Donna flipped the switch next to the light plate turning the fan on.

That will clear out all that hot, moist air in a minute or two. Then I can resume viewing his showering process.

Benedict stood under the rain shower head as the hot water cascaded down over his body, rinsing the shampoo from his hair. The hotel products had a nice coconut almond scent, which he had been enjoying. He adjusted the water temperature so it was just a little hotter and sighed deeply as the water ran over his back and torso.

_How I love these rain shower heads. I have to see how much it would cost to install one at home. I should probably redo the whole bathroom. Everything is so old and worn as is._

Benedict squirted a tiny dab of conditioner into the palm of his hand and distributed it though out his thick, curly auburn hair. Then he took the flannel, lathered the bar of soap over it and began to wash under his arms.

Donna had just finished drying the underneath section of her hair and took a peek in the mirror. Benedict had his back to her affording her a prime view of his bottom.

_Holy cow! This is like watching To the Ends of The Earth live! It’s just like the scene where he’s showering out on the deck. Oh my, oh my…look at that sexy, plump ass of his. I could just go in there a give it a good squeeze. I hope he’s not like Roy and rubs the bar of soap all over his body. I always found that habit gross. OH! He’s turning towards me again…and he’s using a wash cloth! I knew he was the man for me.  
_

Benedict had just finished lathering his torso when he noticed that the fogged over glass shower door was beginning to clear. He could clearly see Donna watching him through the mirror as she dried her hair.

_She’s watching me take a bloody shower for fucks sake. I know I had that fan turned off for a modicum of privacy. I really don’t want her to see me washing my arse and bits. There’s no suave way to do that.  
_

_And now for the good part…ah!_

Donna dropped her brush as she realized that Benedict had observed her watching him, and their eyes met in the mirror. He gave her a little wave, rolled his eyes and turned his back to her while he washed his privates. _  
_

_Damn.  
_

_I don’t know why washing in front of her should bother me, but it does. I’ve done nude scenes, and it’s not like she’s seeing me in the buff for the first time. I think I’m just not used to her ogling me like that…though to be honest it’s rather flattering. I have to admit that I would also do the same to her if our positions were reversed. I’m sure the longer we’re together; things like this will no longer be such a novelty.  
_

Benedict finished his shower and wrapped a towel around his waist before stepping out onto the bath mat that Donna must had lain down on the floor. His shaving kit had also been placed on the vanity.

_The bathroom fairy strikes again, bless her.  
_

“Enjoy the show?” Benedict asked cheekily as he began to dry himself off.

Donna’s face reddened as she turned off the dryer and combed some product through her hair to give it extra shine.

“Um…what show? What are you talking about?” She asked innocently while brushing her hair.

“You were watching me shower.”

_Busted. Like he wouldn’t do the same thing if it had been me taking the shower. No, he wouldn’t. He would have joined me._

“I can’t help it if I’m fascinated with your sexy body, Ben Honey,” shrugged Donna.

_Oh…I’m such a tart for my special pet name.  
_

“Stop that, Donna. You’re too kind. My body is many things, but sexy it ain’t.”

“Like you said before, I’ll be the judge of that; and I judge you to be very toned, nicely muscled and very, _very_ sexy.”

_I really want to believe her. Christ! Part of me obviously does. I’m getting stiff again._

“I can’t wait to be with you tonight and show you just how sexy I find you, Mr. Cumberbatch.”

Benedict stopped towel drying his hair and took her into his arms.

_Holy cow! He’s getting a hard on._

“We _could_ skip dinner you know and go right for pudding.”

“I’m a pushover when it comes to you, Benedict,” said Donna, as she arranged his damp curls on his forehead. “Don’t you dare try and tempt me again! I’ve got a dinner to eat and review – and you’re my helper. I need your taste buds.”

“I shouldn’t try to pry you away from your work. I’ve done that once already, and I’m sorry...well, truth to tell – I’m not completely sorry. We’re both horny as fuck, and greatly anticipating our first union tonight. We needed some release. However, as you pointed out to me, you’re here to work; and your work has to come first.”

Donna Saint James nodded and smiled up at him knowingly.

“It’s too late. I’ve already been tempted, but I will resist. I can’t let the Tribune down – especially since we’re here courtesy of their generous expense account. However, let’s make it a point to eat quickly and not dawdle.”

“Agreed. We have unexplored germs that are yearning to be mingled.”

 

 

Donna Saint James and Benedict Cumberbatch had returned to their room after having eaten the first dinner of Gastro Week at the Nare. And what a meal it had been. The special event dinners were going to take place in an elegantly decorated private dining room for those who had paid the exorbitant fee. The room had windows on three sides affording the diners with expansive views of the sea, beach and hotel gardens. Everything had been perfect from the food to the wine pairings. Feeling full the couple had decided to take a moonlit stroll on the beach afterwards.

As soon as they got back to the room, Benedict used the time to do some reading while Donna worked on her column.

“I’m just about done, Benedict. I’ll be another fifteen minutes or so,” said Donna, stretching. “What are you reading?”

“A script John sent over to me right before we left. It’s for a play called, _After the Dance_ , by Terrance Rattigan. They’re going to do a revival at the Royal National Theatre next year. Apparently, the director is interested in my auditioning for the role of David Scott Fowler.”

“Is it a major role?”

Benedict smiled at her. “It’s the male lead.”

“That’s wonderful, Benedict! When is the audition?”

“Nothing’s been set up yet. First, I have to let John know that I’m interested, and then he’ll arrange for the audition. I’d love to get this role, Donna. David Scott Fowler is a fascinating character.”

“If it’s next year, won’t it conflict with the _Sherlock_ filming?”

“ _Sherlock_ starts filming right after the holidays, and will take about six weeks an episode to film so they tell me. _After the Dance_ rehearsals would start right afterwards for roughly two months with a twelve-week run after that.”

“That will take you through the summer.”

“Then I’ll be unemployed,” sighed Benedict. “Hopefully, something will come up by then.”

“You worry too much. You’re a great actor!”

_That’s not what your prick of a father thinks. Only last week the wanker encouraged me to return to Penhaligon to pick up extra money. The only way I’m ever going back there is as a customer. How I hate those fucking Skype visits._

“Thank you for the vote of confidence, Sweetheart.”

They stared at each other for a minute, neither saying a word.

_It’s time. We’ve waited long enough for this night. I need to get ready.  
_

_Let me finish this damn column so we can get down to business!_

“I’m going to use the bathroom while you finish up then,” said Benedict setting aside the script and gathering some things from the middle dresser drawer. “I shan’t be long.”

 

******************************************************************************************************************************* 

 

Once Benedict was in the bathroom, he stripped off his clothes and hung them on the hook behind the bathroom door.

_I think I’ll forgo the pants tonight. That way I won’t have to worry about Donna having to take off the extra layer in the heat of passion. I could just wear the dressing gown, which would give Donna easiest access to my bits. I did spend a lot for these black silk pants – it would be a shame not to wear them. I would also feel more comfortable wearing them. I wish I knew what she expects. I bet she expects sleep pants and a t-shirt. Won’t she be the surprised one? I think I’ll stick with just the pajamas and wear the dressing gown over it. I just won’t belt it or should I? For fucks sake? What in the hell is wrong with me? Even I can recognize the mental waffling! Jesus – is that what it’s like to listen to me ramble on? I don’t think I can blame Mum and Dad for rolling their eyes._

Benedict washed his face and began to brush and floss his teeth.

_I’m acting like this is my first time with a woman! It is my first time with this woman…the woman I love more than anything on earth, and I need to make sure I give her a night to remember. Those tits Donna’s been with obviously had no idea nor did they care about how to make love to a woman properly. I want her to see that I can be suave and debonair when it comes to seduction.  
_

He rinsed his mouth and refilled the glass with some of the mint-flavoured mouthwash.

_Who in the hell am I kidding? The first time never goes perfectly. That only happens in the movies._

Benedict studied his face in the mirror as he swished the astringent liquid around in his mouth.

_I hope to hell I can last long enough to satisfy her. It’s been awhile since I’ve shagged without benefit of a condom. I know I’m going to be sensitive as fuck. I’ve got to stop worrying and just let things unfold naturally. I’m not a motherfucking virgin. I’m a thirty-three year old, sexually experienced male; and I do know how to please a woman in bed. I am going to stop second-guessing myself and concentrate on making Donna feel as good as I possibly can.  
_

He spit out the mouthwash and rinsed the remains down the sink. _  
_

_I need to stop the fucking waffling and make a decision.  
_

Benedict brushed back his hair and took one last look at his pants and pajamas. He hung the pants on the hook along with the rest of his discarded clothes.

_No pants. It will definitely make things easier, and I’ll wear the dressing gown open. Bare feet definitely. Jolly good then. That’s sorted.  
_

 

********************************************************

 

As soon as Benedict had disappeared into the bathroom, Donna finished her review of their first dinner and sat back to read the food comments one last time:

**We began our meal with a twice-baked cheese soufflé that was light as a cloud with a delicate Parmesan crust that enhanced the nuttiness of the aged Gruyere. It is important that a chef be generous with the cheese when making a soufflé. Many are not, thus giving the finished dish a ‘neutral’ flavor. You sit back and wonder what kind of cheese is in the dish. This chef, I’m happy to report, does not skimp on the cheese. You know it’s a cheese souffle made with Gruyere and Parmesan from the very first heavenly bite.  
**

**Next came the main course, which was a perfectly pan-roasted North Atlantic Hake with sauerkraut and topped with a black caviar-studded butter sauce. Instead of hiding the fish under a mantle of heavy, buttery sauce, the chef used restraint by creatively dotting the fish and plate with it. This technique allowed the flaky mildness of the fish to be the star. The house-made sauerkraut was both sweet and sour enough so that one didn’t automatically pucker at the first bite. Two plump, crispy oyster tempura flanked the hake. The oysters were not at all greasy and went surprising well with the fish. The accompaniments included purple, blue and white marble potatoes, which had been simply boiled and tossed in browned butter, sea salt, freshly ground black pepper and fresh-from- the-hotel-garden parsley.  
**

**The grand finale was the Hot Chocolate Fondant with Cream Cheese Ice-cream. The fondant was basically a cross between a fudgy, gooey brownie and a chocolate soufflé. It was served in an over-sized coffee cup, topped with milk chocolate whipped cream and mini-chocolate homemade marshmallows. The cream cheese ice cream was the perfect foil for all the chocolate and prevented it from being overwhelming.**

_Perfect! And now it’s time to get ready to make sweet, sweet love to my honey.  
_

Donna hit save and logged off the computer for the night. She got up and went to the right side of the dresser where she had placed her things. The housekeeper had turned down the duvet and placed a tiny silver tray containing two dark chocolate truffles on the nightstand along with a small vase containing two perfect red roses while they had been at dinner.

_I must remember to note these nice little touches that they leave around the room, like these truffles and the extra bottles of lotion and shampoo._

Donna pulled open the drawer and pondered the six nightgowns she had packed and decided to go with a short, black satin chemise with lace insets. The chemise laced up the sides and was held together by tying it. She had packed her short, black satin kimono-style robe to go over it.

_Andrew told me I can’t go wrong with basic black, and I will take his advice once again. This one will be good for our first encounter. I’ll be showing a lot of skin, yet I won’t feel exposed should we lounge around first. I don’t picture Benedict as the type to jump my bones as soon as he sees me. He’s the type who wants to do some romancing first to get in the mood. This will also be easy for him to remove, should he desire._

Donna carefully laid the robe at the foot of the bed and heard the door open behind her.   Benedict was standing in the doorway clad in black silk pajamas and a matching black silk dressing gown. His feet were bare and well-manicured as always.

_Wow! I’m not the only one in this room who believes in basic black._

“Don’t you look handsome,” she purred, making her way towards him.

Benedict turned beet red and shoved his hands in the pockets of the dressing gown.

_So much for acting suave and sophisticated, Benedict._

_Oh, my gosh! How cute is he? He’s feeling shy all of a sudden._

“Thanks,” Benedict said rubbing the back of his neck. “But I’ve had this face for a long time, and I know what I look like…I’m not exactly what you’d call handsome. I mean I’m okay, but I’m…”

“Shut up, Benedict,” commanded Donna, standing on her tiptoes to kiss him. “You’re going to have to accept the fact that I find you very handsome.” She put her arms around his neck and pulled him down as she kissed him again for emphasis. “Please enjoy the nice compliment I just paid you and say thank you, Donna.”

“Thank you, Donna,” he said, returning her kiss with a slight chuckle. “I suppose I can live with that,” he murmured.

“Good. There’s hope for you yet. Now, if you’ll excuse me while I slip into something more comfortable…”

Donna and Benedict stared at each other and burst out laughing.

“Jesus, Ben! Did you hear what I just said?”

 “Bloody hell! That’s one of the oldest misquoted movie lines ever!”

“I can’t remember who actually said the original.”

“Jean Harlow in _Hells Angels_ ,” replied Benedict. “The original line was: Would you be shocked if I put on something more comfortable?"

“Aren’t I the seductress?”

“Well, hurry up and I’ll be the judge of that,” he said with a suggestive wink.

As soon as Donna had disappeared into the bathroom, Benedict quickly went to the small refrigerator and retrieved the bottle of champagne and plate of chocolate-covered strawberries. The housekeeper had left two champagne flutes, which had been placed on a silver tray on top of the cabinet the refrigerator was housed in.   After carefully moving the vase of cabbage roses to the desk, he placed the champagne and berries on the coffee table.

_Now, where are the shortbread biscuits? I saw them on the end table before I went to the bathroom.  
_

Benedict looked about the room and found the plate that had contained the shortbread beside Donna’s laptop. The only thing left on it were crumbs.

_Bloody hell! Donna ate all the shortbread while I was in the bathroom, bless her._ _I now need to take care of the lighting, so she feels at ease._

Benedict turned on the electric fireplace and switched off both bedside lamps. He opened this bedside table and removed the tube of lube and a couple of towels he had stashed in there earlier.

_I need to fix the bed. I don’t want to shag on blankets and get tangled up in them._

Benedict turned down the blanket and top sheet. He then paused for a moment to select one of the roses and plucked the petals off, scattering them over the bottom half of the bed.

_So far, so good. The fireplace throws plenty of light, but I think I’ll leave one lamp on.  
_

He turned off the desk lamp and turned down the lighting on the tall standing lamp in the far corner to its lowest setting. Between that and the fireplace, the room was bathed in a nice, warm golden glow.

  _Brilliant! Romantic yet just enough light so we can still see what we’re doing without eye strain. Now, all I need is some soppy, romantic music.  
_

***************************************************** _  
_

 

Donna Saint James finished tying her chemise together and slid her feet into the low-heeled black satin slippers with the marabou trim she had not been able to wear at the Blackberry Bramble Inn.

I’m glad to finally have a chance to wear these. They’re pretty comfortable, not that I’ll be wearing them long or the chemise for that matter.

She brushed and fluffed her hair about her shoulders and added the last dabs of Takashimiya’s ‘T’ perfume to her pulse points. Donna noticed that the bottle was just about empty.

_Well, that’s the end of my supply. I’ll make sure to buy a bottle when I go home for Thanksgiving.  
_

Donna tossed the empty bottle into the wastebasket and took an appraising look at herself in the full length mirror on the back of the door.

_Make up off. Face and body moisturized. Teeth brushed, flossed and mouthwash used. Hair brushed. Andrew was right about this chemise. Classy and not trashy. Peekaboo yet leaves something to the imagination. I actually feel kind of sexy in it. Maybe it’s these heeled slippers. My hooker slippers – hahaha! I just hope I don’t disappoint Benedict. Well, this is as good as I’m going to get.  
_

 

*********************************************************

 

Benedict Cumberbatch sat at the desk, reading Donna’s review of their dinner, when he heard the bathroom door open. He quickly shut down her laptop as she walked into the room.

_He turned on my laptop so he could read my review of dinner!_

“Did you read my review?” she asked as she stood before him in a very brief black satin chemise.

_Christ – she looks gorgeous. Just like in my dreams. I love black lingerie. It’s so classy and sexy at the same time. Those slippers are very enticing, too._

Benedict swallowed hard and got to his feet. “You wrote a very accurate review.”

“With your input for which I thank your taste buds for.”

_He’s really eyeballing me hard. I can see the lust in his eyes. He wants to jump me in the worst way.  
_

_Wow, wow, wow! That thing laces up the side, which will make it a snap to remove. All I can see is bare skin…no sign of knickers. Great minds think alike._

“You look so elegant…and so very, very sexy at the same time. I could just devour you right here on the spot,” Benedict said in soft voice.

“Please feel free to do as you like with me,” Donna said, turning out the bathroom light and closing the door. “I told you I was all yours once the work is done. Well, it’s done and now it’s time to play.”

_If this weren’t our first time, Donna, I’d be all over you and take you on the fucking floor. I need to take it slow and set the mood. I will take it slow. I will be a gentleman._

Benedict scooped her up and carried her over to the love seat, where he deposited her. Donna blinked in surprise.

_He fooled me. I thought we were going right to the bed for sure.  
_

_She was expecting me to take her right to bed. I hope she wasn’t disappointed in me.  
_

“Ooooo champagne _and_ chocolate-covered strawberries!” exclaimed Donna. “You’re going to spoil me, Benedict.”

“You deserve to be spoilt.”

_That’s Moet Champagne. It’s the best and most expensive. Benedict wants to impress me badly, but there is no need. I’m already impressed._

“Those chocolate-covered strawberries look divine!”

“Shall we try them then?” Benedict inquired as he switched on his iPod.

“Do you want me to pour the champagne?” Donna asked him.

“Erm…not after the last time you opened a bottle of champagne in my presence,” replied Benedict, as he expertly opened the bottle and poured two glasses. “My bits still have nightmares about it.”

Donna accepted the glass of champagne from him as she listened to the song. It was the old Flamingos song, _I Only Have Eyes for You_ :

 

**My love must be a kind of blind love**   
**I can't see anyone but you**

**Are the stars out tonight?**   
**I don't know if it's cloudy or bright**   
**I only have eyes for you, dear**

 

“This song was playing in the background on our first official date at the Tate Modern,” mused Donna with a smile.

“Yes, it was,” smiled Benedict sitting beside her. “I’m touched and impressed as hell that you remembered, Darling.”

 

**The moon may be high**  
**But I can't see a thing in the sky**  
 **I only have eyes for you**

 

“I could never forget it. That was such a fun evening.”

“Was it the flock of tourists pestering us to take their photos?”

Donna giggled. “It could have been worse. They could have been pestering us because they wanted _your_ autograph and photo.”

“I rather enjoyed the bowling with ice cream myself,” chortled Benedict.

 

**I don't know if we're in a garden**  
**Or on a crowded avenue**

 

“I think I knew then that I was falling in love with you,” said Donna looking into his eyes. The lighting made them look green. **  
**

Benedict smiled at her. “I was having similar feelings but didn’t want to move too fast.” **  
**

“I’m glad we decided to take things slowly, Benedict. It made the anticipation so much sweeter.”

“And here we are. No longer needing to anticipate,” he said in a low voice.

**You are here and so am I**  
**Maybe millions of people go by**  
 **But they all disappear from view**  
 **And I only have eyes for you**

 

_Jesus, could this man make things anymore perfect than they already are?_

“What shall we drink to this time?” asked Donna raising her glass towards Benedict.

“I think we should drink to the consummation of our love.”

“To our love.”

“To our love.”

Donna smiled as they clinking glasses and sipped their champagne. He leaned over and kissed her gently.

“You’ve made this a very special night already,” whispered Donna, returning the kiss. “Thank you for caring so much.”

“It is my pleasure,” he breathed putting down his glass and taking hers to set down on the coffee table. “Fancy a strawberry?”

“Don’t mind if I do,” exclaimed Donna bending forward in order to help herself to the largest of the berries. She caught Benedict’s eyes dart right to her breasts.

_He’s looking right down my chemise. His eyes look like they’re going to pop out of his head.  
_

_Such gorgeous breasts. Keeping my hands to myself is proving harder than I thought. I just want to get fucking laid so badly right now. I must heed Dad’s advice: Take it slow, please your woman first, then take your pleasure._

Donna offered Benedict a bite of the berry first. He locked eyes with her, leaned towards her and bit down firmly as he took a large bite. The juice from the berry spurted onto Donna’s nose and dripped down her chin, startling her.

“OH!” she exclaimed, pulling back from him.

_Shit! Why did I take such a big fucking bite?_

“Motherfucker! I’m so sorry, Donna!” Benedict cried as he frantically looked for a serviette, but there was none in plain sight.

_When life gives you lemons, make lemonade, Benedict. Let’s see if I can save my face and hers._

Benedict smiled at her and leaned close to her. “Allow me to clean that up,” he said in very low, seductive voice.

_Oh, that voice…oh my…whatever he wants to do is fine with me. Wait…he intends to lick it off. OH. MY._

Benedict slowly and deliberately licked the juice from her nose and chin with long, languid strokes. The juice was sweet and there was a slight salty tang from her skin.

“Delicious,” he murmured, eyes half-lidded.

_Oh. Oh my. Oh my. OH MY. That has got to be one of the most sensuous things a man has ever done to me._

“It smelled very sweet,” remarked Donna in a small voice.

“I was referring to _you_ ,” purred Benedict, sitting back as his eyes roamed over her body. “You look delectable sitting there in that slip. I can’t wait to have another taste of you.”

Donna felt tingles up and down up spine at his words. She noticed goosebumps had formed on her arms. Benedict did also as he reached out to rub her arms.

“That sure was an exceptionally juicy berry,” observed Donna with a smile.

“You must taste it,” said Benedict. “Where is it?”

Donna looked at her lap and then the floor. “I don’t see it.”

Benedict suddenly smiled knowingly. “I bet you dropped it down your cleavage.”

_That sounds about right with my luck. I didn’t feel anything though._

Donna peered down her chemise. The berry lay lodged in between her breasts. She looked up at Benedict and nodded. “Yep. It landed right between my boobs. I was so surprised that I didn’t even feel it.”

“Shall I fetch it then?” Benedict asked her in that low voice, once again leaning towards her to plant a trail of gentle kisses along her neck down to the swell of her breasts, where he kissed the top of each one while gazing up into her eyes.

_Jeez Louise. Those eyes of his are mesmerizing. They look aquamarine in this lighting._

“Please,” she breathed.

Benedict looked her over and frowned slightly.

_Okay you tit, now how do you plan to get at it? That chemise is pretty snug fitting now that she’s sat down. You probably could get your hand down the front, or you can try going between her legs and up. It’s probably too snug to get past the waist because she’s sat. I could undo those strings or is that a bit too brazen? Maybe the direct approach right down the front is best then._

_Jesus, Benedict. The damn thing is melting. I can feel it. He’s waffling to himself, I can tell by the furrowed brow. Let me make the decision for him._

Donna took Benedict’s hand and shoved it down the front of the chemise. His fingers immediately felt the now softened chocolate.

_Brilliant! It wasn’t that far down at all. I’m just suave as fuck, aren’t I?_

Benedict plucked the berry between his index finger and thumb and pulled it out. He then looked at Donna questioningly as if he were unsure as to what to do with it. She smiled encouragingly at him.

_Should I feed it to her or bin it? How I wish Dad had covered what to do in these instances. I know he and Mum enjoy some bubbly and berries in the bath every now and then._

_Feed it to me, for fucks’ sake, Benedict!!! What are you waiting for – an invitation?_

Donna batted her eyelashes at him, closed her eyes and opened her mouth as an indication as to what she wanted him to do. She felt the remainder of the berry enter her mouth and took a large bite. Benedict watched helplessly as a piece of the chocolate coating broke away and fell right into her cleavage.

“Mmmmm…son of a bitch…what the fuck?” Donna exclaimed around a mouthful of fruit as this time she felt something fall down the front of her chemise.

“For fucks sake! Can you believe the bloody chocolate shell broke off,” said Benedict, trying to suppress a laugh.

_Yes. I can. I felt it. I’m a believer. Why didn’t I just play coy and take a dainty nibble? Because I was dying to taste it._

Donna’s eyes opened as once again Benedict’s large, warm hand was retrieving the piece of chocolate, which he popped into her mouth unceremoniously. She chewed and swallowed as he watched her while licking some melted chocolate off his own fingers. Then Donna peered down at her chest and shook her head in bewilderment. There was some melted chocolate in between her breasts.

“Gosh, we’re pathetic!” groaned Donna. “I’ve got melted chocolate between my boobs. Why does stuff like this always happen to us, Ben?”

Benedict burst out laughing. “Who the fuck knows, but I’m glad I have you to share a giggle with.”

Donna laughed along with him. “You’re right. I love nothing more than having a good laugh with you, too. Can you please hand me a napkin?”

“I didn’t see any.”

Donna began to get up, but Benedict pulled her back down. “I’ll take care of the fucking chocolate later,” he growled, looking at her meaningfully. 

“Only if I can have another one of those berries. They are really good,” declared Donna, finding hard to concentrate. “By the way those shortbread cookies were really yummy.”

“I wouldn’t know. All I found left were crumbs.”

“As you like to say: I’m a tart for sweets. I’ll order us some more tomorrow.”

Benedict offered her another strawberry, but held his hand underneath it as Donna took a small bite. They took turns carefully feeding each other and sipping the champagne while old, romantic standards played on Benedict’s iPod.

“Those were quite tasty,” remarked Benedict when there were no more left. He paused to lick the melted chocolate from his fingers.

“And we somehow managed not to drip all over each other,” Donna laughed.

“That’s for later on,” said Benedict waggling his eyebrows at her.

“Somehow I don’t think you’re talking about chocolate,” quipped Donna, sucking on her chocolate-covered middle finger meaningfully.

“I’m _not_.”

Benedict drank her in, eyes darkening and full of lust. _  
_

_I’m just about done with the flirting. It’s time to make love to her._

Donna noticed the mood had suddenly gone from playful to more serious.  His baritone voice sounded even deeper.  It was almost a rumble, whose vibration went straight to her core. 

“Fancy a dance?” He got up and held his hand out to her.

Donna eagerly took his hand and began to slow dance with him as Frank Sinatra sang in the background:

 

**I'm in the mood for love**  
**Simply because you're near me**  
 **Funny, but when you're near me**  
 **I'm in the mood for love**

**Heaven was in your eyes**  
**Bright as the stars we're under**  
 **Oh, is it any wonder?**  
 **I'm in the mood for love**

 

“I love Frank Sinatra,” sighed Donna. “You really know how to set the mood, Benedict. All these little romantic touches you put around the room. You are so considerate and impress me so.”

“I aim to please.”

_Let’s hope his aim is good._

_She likes what I've done so far.  I was worried she'd think it corny. Such a relief._

 

**Why should we think of weather?**  
**This little dream might fade**  
 **We'll put our hearts together**  
 **Now we are one, I'm not afraid**

**If there's a cloud above**  
**If it should rain, we'll let it**  
 **But, for tonight, forget it**  
 **I'm in the mood**

**So please don't keep me waiting**  
**You'll never lose**  
 **My heart is yours for taking, darling**  
 **I'm in the mood for love**

 

  
As the song ended, they paused to gaze into each others eyes. Donna hugged him tightly against her.

“This has been such a perfect evening.”

“I love you, Donna. I want to show you how much,” Benedict whispered as he tilted her chin up in order to tenderly kiss each corner of her mouth. He then thoroughly kissed her lips until they both were breathless.

“I love you, Benedict…so very, very much.”

_Now would be a good time for him to take me to bed. My knees are getting weak from his kisses.  
_

_I’m starting to get ridiculously stiff. It’s time to take this over to the bed._

“I want to make love to you now, Donna.”

Donna wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him hard.

“I think that’s a fine idea, Mr. Cumberbatch,” she whispered into his ear and gently nibbled his earlobe. “I’ve never wanted anything as much in my life.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. My apologies, lovely readers, to have to cut it off here; but I had too much material, forcing me to divide this chapter in half. I don’t think anyone has the patience to read a 50+ page chapter – does anyone?
> 
> 2\. Penhaligon is the perfume store Benedict once worked at.
> 
> 3\. Happy Mother’s Day to all who celebrate! 
> 
> 4\. Good luck to Benedict tonight at the BAFTAS!


	88. Chapter 88

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part Four of the Cornwall Holiday: Benedict and Donna finally consummate their love. 
> 
> Warning: This chapter contains very explicit sex.

 

Benedict Cumberbatch picked Donna Saint James up in his arms and carried her over to the large, king-sized bed where he lay her down in the center. Benedict shrugged off the black silk dressing gown and tossed it onto the foot of the bed. Donna lay on her back as Benedict settled next to her on his side. She turned to face him and reached out to stroke his cheek with the pad of her thumb.

“So, here we are,” she said quietly.

“Finally,” he smiled, taking her hand and kissing her palm.

_Christ! Her hand is trembling.  
_

“Are you feeling cold, Darling?”

_Not cold. Nervous. Very nervous. This is crazy!  
_

“No, the temperature is perfect.”

Benedict kissed each one of her fingers all the while gazing into her eyes.

_He’s so calm and sure of himself. I shouldn’t be feeling this way. I want this as much as he does. We’ve held out so long for this night...well he did. I would have done the deed a lot sooner._

“Are you nervous at all, Benedict?”

“Are you?”

“I asked you first.”

“Of course I am,” He laughed uneasily. “I think it’s perfectly natural to feel nervous the first time you’re with someone.”

“I would have thought since you’re the more experienced out of the two of us that you would…”

Benedict lightly touched his index finger to her lips. “It doesn’t matter how many times we’ve shagged in the past. This is _our_ first time together. This is the first time the clothing barriers will be completely dropped between us. We both want to ensure the other has the most pleasurable experience we can provide.”

“You’re right,” said Donna softly. “This is exactly what I’ve been thinking. I just want to make you happy. I’m so afraid of disappointing you.”

Benedict reached out and embraced her. He stroked her hair and spoke in a low, soothing voice.

“I’m glad you told me this, Donna; and I assure you that you’re not the only one in this bed who has been having similar thoughts. The important thing is to remember that no one’s first time with a new partner is rarely - if ever -perfect. The best thing we can do is simply relax, enjoy each other’s company and not have high expectations. A sense of humour in bed is just as important as having one outside of bed.”

Donna felt her fears begin to fade away as she listened to his words.

_I love how he has such a calming effect on me. This man is truly my best friend. He makes perfect sense. He will continue to love me no matter what happens. I’m just being silly. I have nothing to be nervous about._

“I feel so much better hearing that you feel the same way. What you say makes perfect sense. I will approach this as our first sexual adventure together.”

Benedict nodded thoughtfully and kissed her hand again. “I just want you to promise me something.”

“Anything, Ben Honey.”

_Ah…how I love that…I bet she has no idea how I melt whenever she calls me that._

“You need to let me know what you like and don’t like in bed. I want to make this a special night for you…one that you will remember fondly. I want to make you forget those other times. My goal is to show you how enjoyable proper love-making can be; but I won’t be able to do that unless you give me feedback,” he said in a seriously tone. “Feedback is imperative. And I will do the same for you.”

_The actor in him comes out. He’s already looking for his performance review._

Donna giggled.

“What’s so funny?” he demanded in a mock stern tone.

“When you asked for feedback, I thought to myself that this is the actor in you coming out – that you expect a review of your performance. And here I am a food critic…so…well it struck me as funny.”

“As long as you don’t review the taste of my semen, I can take anything you can dish out,” he snickered. “I am trying to be serious here. Good communication in bed is paramount to achieving sexual satisfaction.”

“You sound just like a sex manual.”

“I’m just a well-read chap is all.”

“I promise to let you know. As long as your nails are trimmed, I’m good to go.”

Benedict examined his fingernails with a puzzled expression on his handsome face. “They’re fine, aren’t they? I took care of them yesterday.”

“Yes, always. That’s one of the things I love about you – that your nails and hands are so well-groomed. The first time I was with Danny, he scratched my clit with a hangnail. It hurt like hell and made me cry.”

_So Danny Mango…no…Marshmallow…no…Mangrove…that’s not it either. Oh, whatever the fuck the wanker’s name is. He sounds like an insensitive prick. How could he not invest in a proper manicure when touching a woman’s most delicate parts?_

Benedict winced. “What a clod. I can just imagine how that must have hurt. I remember when I was a small, a sea anemone bit my peen when we were swimming in Greece. I thought it was a fucking piece of coral. I still shudder at the thought of it.”

It was Donna’s turn to wince. “Holy shit! That must have hurt like a bitch. Do you have a scar?”

“You’ve seen me, do I?”

“Not that I can remember, but I was never looking for one.”

“It’s barely noticeable and it’s on the tip.”

“I need to inspect this,” said Donna as she pushed Benedict onto his back. “I think it’s time to remove this pesky clothing barrier as you so eloquently put it.” She began to unbutton his pajama top.

Benedict smiled at her as he pulled the strings on either side of her chemise.

“Yeah, it's time to dispense with the clothing indeed.”

It had only taken Benedict seconds to remove Donna’s chemise and toss it over her head onto the floor. His pajamas had quickly joined suit.

“And here we are,” he whispered. “Barrier free.”

Donna smiled at him. “Hold me, Ben.”

Benedict pulled her against him and savoured the feeling of her warm bare flesh against his own. His penis immediately reacted accordingly to the contact. Donna felt as if an electrical current had passed between them. She could feel his erection pressed firmly against her stomach as they began to kiss each other deeply and slowly. Benedict licked her lips with his tongue and gently sucked first on her upper lip, then her bottom lip.

_My God, this man can sure kiss…ah!!!_

Benedict was pleased that she returned his attentions with equal fervor. He moaned as she sucked gently then harder on his tongue. Finally, they broke for air, both breathing heavily.

“Ladies first,” he said in a slightly gruff-sounding voice as he rolled Donna onto her back and appraised her body with his darkened blue eyes. She could make out his dilated pupils in the golden haze of the room. His lips were swollen and pink from their kissing, and his cheeks flushed with arousal.

_She’s as gorgeous and as sexy as I imagined she would look. I’m really getting stiff now, but I need to take care of her first._

“So sexy you are,” Benedict murmured, eyes roving over her nakedness. “I finally have all the pieces of the puzzle laid out before me, and you are an exceedingly beautiful and enticing piece of artwork, my Darling.”

_I don’t feel self-conscious at all…he’s actually making me feel very sexy and horny. I am getting so wet already.  
_

“Relax, close your eyes and allow me to take proper care of you.”

_I suppose he’ll do the quick grope and squeeze of the breasts and then on to the main event._

Benedict began to slowly circle the aureola of her breasts with his tongue. Donna then felt his tongue move to her nipples as he began to tease them by licking the very tips. The cool air coupled with his warm saliva immediately hardened her nipples and a low moan escaped her lips as she involuntarily shivered.

“You’re giving me goosebumps all over! That feels exquisite.”

“More then?”

“Yes!”

Donna felt his tongue gently circle and lap at each nipple causing her to bury her hands in his thick auburn hair. Benedict felt her nimble fingers begin to absently pull at his sensitive hair follicles, causing him extreme pleasure in the groin area. In response he began to suck her nipples until they hardened even further. He tugged on the hard buds with his lips until Donna gasped with ecstasy.

_Holy Christ! I seem to be on the right track. I wish she wouldn’t touch my scalp like that. How I love when she kneads it like this…oh, she’s pulling it now...just the way I like it. I need to concentrate on her though._

Donna continued gasping as her clitoris began to throb between her legs. The sucking of her nipples was like nothing she had ever experienced, and she found herself enjoying it immensely.

_I love what he’s doing! He’s making me tingle!_

Suddenly, his mouth was gone. Donna let go of his hair and opened her eyes.

“Why did you stop?”

“Don’t worry. I’m not finished with you yet,” Benedict chuckled in his deep baritone. “I’m just getting started, but you need to leave my scalp alone for now. I find it too distracting, as much as I adore it. Spread those beautiful legs for me, please, Love.”

Donna did as he asked and watched as he settled in between her legs, positioning himself in order to gain access to her breasts. He smiled at her and licked the sticky chocolate from in between them.

“Mmmm…delectable,” he murmured, looking into her eyes.

Donna closed her eyes and concentrated on what Benedict was doing. She felt his nimble fingers gently squeeze and knead each nipple causing her to gasp once again. Benedict’s large hands cupped each breast, squeezing and massaging them as he lavished kisses upon them. He glanced up to see her eyes shut and face contorted in passion.

“Alright, Darling?”

“Oh, this is really …good…so good, Benedict,” she took his hand and directed it back to her nipples. “Squeeze a little harder.”

“Whatever you desire, my Love,” he said, rolling each nipple in between his fingers and squeezing harder as she had requested. “Better yes?”

“YES. Just.Like.That… My God, Ben, I feel like I’m going to…”

His mouth returned to her nipples and he flicked his tongue around the hardened buds. Donna could feel the delightful sensations straight down to her core.

_Who knew breast play could feel so fucking good?_ _I wish he’d touch my clit now. I’m just throbbing._

As if he could read her mind, Benedict moved his hand down in between her legs and began to massage her sensitive clitoris with his thumb using a maddeningly slow circular motion. Donna ground against his hand in order to get more friction and felt a tingling sensation in her lower belly which signaled she was getting close to climaxing.

“Faster… harder, please,” she panted, pressing down on his fingers to show him the amount of pressure she needed.  

“You’re so wet, Darling…you’re positively dripping,” he declared. “Tell me what else you fancy.”

“I’m getting so…so…so…close. I want you so much, Ben,” Donna moaned, moving his hand and repositioning his fingers so he was rubbing her clitoris between his thumb and index finger in a rolling motion. “JESUS – that feels better than anything I’ve ever felt!”

_I love how she’s not shy about what she wants and how she wants it._

_I can’t believe I’m feeling so uninhibited – it must be the two glasses of champagne he gave me._

“Fuck me with your fingers, Ben!” She cried.

_Christ, I am so worked up; I’m going to come with her at this point._

Benedict dipped one finger into her vagina and moved it in and out slowly, being careful not to go too deep at first. He felt her muscles tighten around it in response and saw that Donna had gritted her teeth.

_She feels very tight. It’s been awhile for her. I need to take it slow.  
_

_Shit! I’m not used to being penetrated. Thank goodness he didn’t try to stick in every damn finger like Roy used to. I need to relax…oh, he’s still using his thumb again…OH…I need to breathe deeply…Ah…one more…ah…that’s more like it…his finger is all the way in now.  
_

Benedict added another finger to her vagina and began to work them slowly in and out, while keeping his thumb on her clit. He felt her hands threading his hair once again, followed by her moans. He began to move his fingers faster and thrust them in deeper. Her breathing had become harsh and ragged as she began to lift her hips to meet his thrusts. _  
_

_I need to find her G-spot. That should do it. Let’s see. This should be it._

_What the fuck is he doing to me?_ _My whole body is starting to tingle_. _YES! I’m there. I’m there…He’s better not stop!  
_

“Keep it up! I’m going to…oh that feels…YES!” _  
_

Benedict felt a harsh tug on his hair follicles as her vagina muscles began to contract around his fingers. It was not the way he enjoyed.

_Found it. Fuck, that hurts like a bastard…that really, really hurt._

“BENEDICT! OH MY FUCK…ING GOD! OH OH OH OH OH OH!!!”

_Well done me by the sound of her.  
_

Benedict let up as the contractions eased off, and Donna sighed deeply in contentment. Unfortunately, she was still gripping his hair tightly.

_Fuck me! She’s still pulling on my hair! This hurts like a son of a bitch._

“Erm…you can let go of my hair now, Donna.”

No response.

_She’s in her own little orgasmic cloud, bless her. Let me try again._

“Donna, love. Please let go of my hair.”

His hair remained in her vice-like grip.

_My scalp is really beginning to ache. I really don’t fancy being bald._

“DONNA! My scalp hurts like a bastard! Let go of my hair for fucks sake!”

Benedict felt her immediately relax the grip she had had on his hair.   He climbed out from in between her legs and lie beside her. She was breathing more evenly, and her eyelids fluttered open to see him rubbing his scalp with his left hand. The fingers of his right hand were glistening with her wetness.

“Sorry about the hair. I needed to hold onto something while you were using those magical fingers of yours,” she purred.

Benedict began slowly licking her juices off his index and middle fingers. He gave her a smug smile.

“Mmmm…you really do taste heavenly,” he said smacking his lips. “Did I make you happy?” he asked moving closer to her and kissed her, taking time to nibble on her lower lip.

“What do you think?” she said with a smirk.

Benedict regarded her with narrowed eyes. “From what I was hearing and feeling, I’d venture to say it was a resounding success.”

“What did I say?”

“Let’s just say you were quite vocal during your climax, which I find super arousing…”

_I don’t remember saying anything out loud, but apparently I did._

“You can’t fake uterine contractions like that.”

Donna smiled at him and returned his kiss. “No, I can’t fake that. You’re the first man who ever paid so much attention to my breasts. I loved that so much. I hope you will make that a permanent part of your sexual repertoire.”

“Sexual repertoire,” he repeated thoughtfully. “Sounds like you’ve been doing some reading of your own.”

“I read it in Cosmo.”

_Of course she did, bless her.  Cosmo - the sexual bible according to Donna Saint James._

“One of those gossip rags no doubt,” he scoffed. “Even though I rather like the sound of that; and yes, I will do whatever you fancy and gets you off. My sole goal is to please you, Darling.”

“And you succeeded admirably.”

Benedict flashed a self-satisfied smile at her. “Shall we continue then?”

“I think it’s your turn to have some fun, Mr. Cumberbatch.”

“I can’t have too much fun or I won’t last. It’s been awhile since I’ve had sex without a condom. I’ll be super sensitive.”

“Shut up, and let me take care of you. I won’t let you come. I’ll just take you to the edge.”

“Take me then,” Benedict rasped, as he re-arranged the pillows to his liking and reclined on his back.

Donna could see that he was still semi-erect. She could also see that he was intently studying her body with lust in his eyes.

“So beautiful,” he murmured as he reached out to caress her breasts.

Benedict felt Donna take him firmly in hand and started to gently massage his foreskin, which caused him to stiffen even further. She kissed him deeply, nibbling on his upper and lower lips. He swirled his tongue around hers and sucked on it.

_Christ. I can barely concentrate when she touches my foreskin like that. I need to last._

“Less foreskin rubbing, more shaft rubbing,” he groaned, breaking their loving kisses. “I don’t want to come until I’m inside you.”

Donna began to stroke him up and down, adding the little twist at the end that he loved so much. She then positioned herself in order to take him into her mouth while giving him access to her sensitive areas. Benedict began to cup and rub her vulva, causing her breath to hitch. He watched as she stopped rubbing him and tentatively touched the tip of his glans.

_I said I didn’t want to come yet, but that didn’t mean cease all actions!_

“I don’t see any scar.”

_For fucks sake! She wants to have a conversation about my incident with the sea anemone when I was five.  
_

“Where did the fish bite you? I’ll be damned if I can see it.”

_She really does know how to keep me from coming too soon, bless her._

“It’s here,” said Benedict, taking her fingertip and touching the spot.

Donna touched the spot and rubbed it tenderly, causing him to squirm as she carefully examined the area.

“It’s so tiny. I would never have known had you not told me. I just assumed it was mottled skin.”

_And there goes my hard on._

_Oh, oh. He’s getting limp._

Donna moved closer to him and stroked the blond hairs on his chest, moving her fingertips to lightly graze his nipples. She coated each one with saliva and blew on them causing him to groan and shiver. Then Donna reached out to gently touch the nipple of his right breast. He licked his lips as she rolled it between her fingers and watched it harden under her touch. She did the same with his other breast and used her tongue in the same way he had on hers, eliciting low moans from his cupids bow lips. His aureolas were covered in goosebumps.

“Do you like what I’m doing?”

“Nice. Mmmm. Yeah. Feels nice,” he murmured, eyes closing.

“What do you want Ben Honey? Tell me what turns you on.”

_Calling me Ben Honey works wonders, but I know she can do better than that.  Time to see what other tantalizing tips shes garnered from reading Cosmo._

“Surprise me.”

_So much for keeping those lines of communication open.  
_

“I like it _all_ ,” he sighed, briefly opening his eyes to gaze at her meaningfully.

_Nothing like narrowing it down for me, Benedict.\_

“As long as teeth aren’t involved,” he added, eyelids fluttering shut. _  
_

_I’ll do what that article on how to please your lover suggested along with my tried and true moves that I know he enjoys._

Donna used her hands and tongue to make her way down his torso, kissing , licking and stroking every inch of him. She felt his hand reach out and cup her breasts, squeezing gently and causing her to feel even more aroused than she already was.   She kissed his belly button and dipped her tongue inside, causing him to moan softly. She began to kiss down the line of downy soft ginger hair until she came to his pubes.

“Christ, you make me feel so loved,” he sighed deeply.

“Good. That’s how I want you to feel.”

“I love you, Donna.”

“I love you more,” she replied, nuzzling the soft pubic hair with her nose.

Benedict moved his hand to her bottom and squeezed it. Donna continued to plant butterfly kisses around his groin and hip area and finally came to rest in between his legs. She felt his hands tangle in her hair as she began to drop soft kisses along his inner thighs. He was groaning steadily as she lightly nibbled on the areas closest to his manhood, making sure to keep her teeth shielded with her lips.

“Please, Donna. I need to be touched… _please_.”

“I thought you wanted to last.”

“I do…but I want to come so badly I can taste it. I feel like I’m on fire!”

Donna cupped his balls in her warm hands and kissed each one, taking care to suck each in turned until his thighs began to quiver as he became even more excited. She noted that his balls were swollen and had hardened due to his level of arousal and had drawn up close against his body as she continued to lavish attention on them.

“Donna?”

“Mmmm? I love how you smell down here…so masculine…it’s a very sexy smell.”

_It’s true what they say about pheromones. I’m drawn to him like a magnet._

“Donna, I’ve changed my mind. Please bring me to climax. I think I really need to have some release before attempting intercourse.”

“Are you sure? You specifically said that…”

Benedict’s eyes snapped open. They had a wild look about them.

“Bloody hell! I _know_ what I said, and it’s a man’s prerogative to change his mind!”

“I thought it was a woman’s prerogative?”

“Just suck me off! Now! _Please_!” he barked, balling his fists at his sides in anticipation.  

“Yes, sir!” said Donna with a mock salute. “Suck I shall!”

_I will not gag. I will spit very elegantly into those tissues I put on the bed. I know I can manage his pre-ejaculate with no problem._

Donna carefully licked the drops of semen that had leaked from his cock and took the pulsing member into her mouth. She then proceeded to suck the glans for all she was worth, while stroking his shaft up and down in tandem.

Benedict’s legs began to shake as he thrust his hips towards her, face contorted in an expression of rapture. Donna said a silent prayer of thanks that he was taking care not to hit the back of her throat.  She steadied her free hand on his hip in an attempt to keep him from thrusting too enthusiastically and triggering her gag reflex.  He felt the subtle push against his hip and adjusted the depth of his thrusts.

_Take it easy, Benedict, do not go too deep. You don’t want to cause her to gag again. Not when you’re this close._

_I will not gag. I managed to keep those first drops down, and I will not gag should he lose control. I will not gag no matter what. OH…what’s this?  
_

Donna felt an insistent tapping on her shoulder as Benedict's right hand began to grope frantically by his side.

_I’m there. Where’s the fucking tissue box?  Oh, here it is!  
_

_OH! That’s my signal that he’s about to climax! What should I do? Nooooo.  Where's the tissue box???  Oh, shit!  How did it get on his side of the bed? I can’t reach the fucking tissues from here! He must have moved the box, bless his lust-driven little heart._

“Sweet Jesus!” Benedict shouted as he began to climax.

Donna could see his whole body stiffen as he clutched at the sheets, slim hips thrusting erratically and less than before. A wad of tissues was unceremoniously tossed onto her head, as the familiar taste of his semen began to fill her mouth. His head was thrown back, lips parted and frozen in what looked like a silent scream, eyes still tightly shut as he gasped.

_Thank you, Ben Honey! It’s a wonder how you can manage to still think clearly in the throes of passion._

Donna removed the tissues from her head and spit the semen out while Benedict lie still, breathing deeply, his arm flung over his face. She watched his chest heave as she balled up the tissue and tossed it onto the floor by the side of the bed.

“Was that enough release for you?” Donna asked, moving so as to lie beside him. She ran her fingers through his damp, messy curls.

“Yeah,” Benedict breathed, as he lowered his arm in order to gaze into her hazel eyes. “That was lovely. Thank you,” he said softly, leaning in to kiss her.

“I didn’t gag this time.”

“Not that I could hear,” he smiled, playfully tweaking the tip of her nose.

“Thank you for the tissues. I started out with a box on my side of the bed, but it was no where within my reach when I needed it.”

“That’s because I moved it to my side,” chuckled Benedict.

“Good gravy, Ben! I’m glad you still had the presence of mind to drop some on my head.”

“Bloody hell! I tossed them on your head?” he laughed. “I'm sorry, Love.”

“I was busy with you when all of a sudden this wad of tissues came raining down on my head!” She giggled.

The two of them laughed and embraced each other, while sharing tender kisses.

“I will need some more time to recuperate from your delightful ministrations, Darling. Let me touch you for a bit then,” Benedict said in between kisses. "'Yes?"

“What a fine and splendid idea,” she breathed, her body trembling from the anticipation.

Donna moved so as Benedict could begin to finger her again. She held him close to her and squeezed his bottom until he groaned loudly. As her excitement began to build again, he felt her reposition his fingers in order to gain G-spot stimulation.

“You want me to do what I did before yes?” he asked in a barely audible tone.

“Yes, and don’t forget to rub my clit while you’re in the neighborhood.”

Benedict chuckled. “I believe I can manage it.”

_I do believe I feel that lovely tightening in my peen. That was a pretty quick recovery. Such a pleasant surprise!_

He tentatively placed her hand on his penis. The sensitivity from his orgasm had dissipated. “A little rubbing here would also be welcome.”

_Mmmm...it didn't take Benedict too long to rebound.  Maybe ten minutes?  That's pretty impressive, but I bet this won't happen all the time._

Donna traced her finger up and down his frenulum for several minutes and used the drops of leaked semen to add some lubrication as she began to stroke him up and down. Benedict began to kiss her with urgency as he slowly hardened under her hand. Their mutual moans and groans filled each others' ears and further enhanced their level of arousal.   They continued their foreplay until both of them were feeling on the verge of climaxing.

Benedict’s heart was pounding in his chest. Each pleasurable caress brought him dangerously close to climaxing. His penis felt rock hard, and he had started to get the familiar tightening and pleasant tingling in his groin area that signaled he was rapidly approaching the point of no return.

_Motherfucker! As good as this feels, I need to stop and finish inside of her._

“Are you ready, Darling? I’m very close. I need you to stop before we have a mess.”

“I so ready for you to be inside me now, Ben Honey,” sighed Donna urgently, releasing her grip on his throbbing, swollen cock.

_Oh, Benedict, this doesn’t’ mean you can stop! I need stimulation to continue!_

Benedict turned over and grabbed the tube of lube he had placed on the nightstand and unscrewed the cap.  

“Give me your hand.”

Benedict squirted a dab into the palm of her hand. “Rub it on me,” he commanded in a hoarse voice. He then squirted a generous dollop onto his fingers and rubbed them together in order to warm it.

"Why are you using so much lube?  You're good and slick as is."

“This is for you.”

_Me?  I'm so wet, I can feel it dripping. Maybe he wants to put it somewhere else???_

“Why?” Donna asked with a touch of concern.

Benedict huffed impatiently at her. _What a question to ask me? For fucks sake!_

“We need to be moist and slippery. It’ll be easier for me to enter you, and it will feel a lot nicer for both of us. It’ll hurt if you’re not wet enough!”

_I get the part about it possibly hurting. I’m no stranger to that. However, I do know about when to use lube, and trust me I don’t need it._

“I’m well past _moist_. I’m soaked, Ben,” declared Donna, doing as he asked. “Don’t tell me you can’t feel how slippery I already am. I can feel it!”

Benedict felt more pleasurable tingles at the base of his spine as she coated him with the gel.

“Oh, Christ! I’m so fucking close!” he barked.

_I need to distract myself,_ Benedict thought frantically to himself _. Let’s see, let’s see. Oh yes. What a_ _piece_ _of_ _work_ _is a_ _man_ _! How noble in reason, how infinite in faculty!_

“You’re getting too distracted, Ben Honey.  I need you back here."

_…In form and moving how express and admirable! In action how like an angel ...yes, the Bard is helping me keep from coming, bless him!_

Donna massaged her clit in a circular motion in order to keep herself at the edge.

_Okay, if you won’t do it, Benedict, I will. Just a couple of good rubs ought to do it for me. Ah-ah- ha! That feels wonderful. I hope to hell this works!  I need to keep the expectations down._

“Please trust me on this,” Benedict insisted taking his fingers and gently applying the gel to the entrance of her vagina. He removed her hand and rolled her clit in between his fingers, the lube intensifying what she was already feeling. He felt her body stiffen, as she gripped his shoulders.

“BEN! SHIT! I’m there,” Donna grasped at his hand.

“Not yet! Which way do you fancy?”

“Inside me, of course!”

“NO – which position?”

_OH no, no, NO! Now we’re going to discuss fucking positions when we’re both about to come in each others' hands? Is he out of his fucking mind? Just roll me over and stick it in my twat for fucks sake before we lose the moment.  
_

“Do you fancy being on top?” he asked, breathing heavily, his upper body glistening with sweat.

_Ummm…not this time. Maybe…_

“Any day will do, _Love_ ,” he hissed impatiently.

_There’s a snotty version of Love, too, it seems._

“ON TOP - MISSIONARY!!”

“On your back then!! Quick as you can!”

Donna lay back and spread her legs apart, lifting them so her feet were planted firmly on the bed as Benedict moved in between. He raised himself up onto his knees and leaned towards her, stroking his penis to maintain his erection. Donna held out her arms to him.

“Come to me. I want you so badly.”

Benedict held his penis and rubbed her clitoris with the head, causing Donna to arch her back. He circled her vagina with it and looked deep into her hazel eyes while he slowly stroked her vagina, from her clitoris down to her perineum which gave her such pleasure she wanted to scream.

“NOW, Benedict! NOW!”

“I need you to guide me, Darling,” he rasped, eyes like saucers. “I’ll take it easy...I promise. I'll go as slow as you need me to.”

Donna took his penis and encouraged him to enter her. Benedict rested his weight on his elbows and forearms, gently pressing himself inside her and immediately felt the soft, warm moistness of her vagina surround his member. Donna heard him gasp then hiss at the contact. He paused for a moment to collect his wits and continued as he felt Donna grab his buttocks and pull him closer.

_Stick it in all the way for God’s sakes, Benedict!  
_

“Okay?” _  
_

“You can keep going, Ben Honey.”

“You’re so tight and wet,” he whispered, pushing deeper inside her. “My God, you’re positively dripping...like a leaky pipe.”

_Perhaps she's a squirter, and I was so caught up in myself that I hadn't noticed._   _No, Benedict, you silly tit, you would have noticed something like that!_

“That’s all the lube melting from our body heat,” said Donna through gritted teeth.

_I can feel the shit dripping out. This bed is going to be a mess._

She felt him inch deeper inside her, taking great care not to take her all at once.

“Alright then?”

“Yes. It doesn’t hurt at all. Keep going.”

Benedict gave a shallow thrust and completely filled Donna as her muscles abruptly clenched around him, sending a series of shivers and tingles down his spine.

“Oh fuck. Oh fuck. So tight…heavenly,” he moaned.

_Easy does it, Benedict. Don’t want to come now. That would be humiliating._

“Okay. That stung a bit,” said Donna biting down on her lip. “Give me a minute to get used to having you inside me,” she said in barely a whisper.

_My God. He’s inside me...he’s part of me. I think I’m going to cry. I don’t want to cry now.  
_

_I need to just be still. I hope I didn’t tear anything. I couldn’t have been any gentler. She sounds like she’s getting choked up._

Benedict nodded and their eyes met for a brief moment. He gazed down to see where they were joined and felt a wave of emotion wash over him that he hadn’t been prepared for. He heard Donna take two deep breaths and felt her muscles relax a bit around him. When he looked back up at her, she was also looking at where they were joined. Her eyelashes were wet with tears.

“We’re one now,” he said softly as a tear escaped his eye and fell onto her shoulder.

“Yes,” she said in a quivering voice. “Make love to me, Ben Honey.”

Donna felt him start to withdraw and then thrust back in. His thrusts were slow and deliberate, which she appreciated. She watched as he moved in and out of her before he leaned forward in order to kiss her. He covered her face with kisses and told her how much he loved her. She wrapped her legs around his slender hips as he sucked on her tongue. Donna returned his kisses and words of endearment, feeling her heart swell as it never had with a man. Benedict felt his climax starting to build again and gave her a sloppy wet kiss. His emotions felt raw. It was a foreign feeling to him.

_If she calls me Ben Honey one more time, I’m going to come so fucking hard. I’ve never felt so soppy in bed before. I’m on the verge of motherfucking tears._ _Why is this happening to me now?  
_

_I’ve never felt so loved and such tenderness from a man before. He’s being extra gentle with me.  
_

“Are you feeling good, Darling?” he asked.

_I’m so glad it doesn’t hurt. I worried for nothing. It’s such a nice, full feeling but his angle isn’t hitting my clit at all. I’ll never come just from this.  
_

“It feels wonderful, Benedict; but I need you to hit my clit.”

“Lift your beautiful arse for me, Love.”

Benedict grabbed one of the spare pillows and pushed it under Donna’s hips. He began to thrust again with more enthusiasm, making sure to rub his penis against her sensitive core with each thrust.

_Oh my. That is better. He’s grazing my clit on his way in and out. I need more friction though.  
_

“Ben Honey, can you please…” _  
_

Donna felt his penis slip out of her vagina. _  
_

_What the fuck?  Where did he go?  
_

She felt his penis graze alongside her inner thigh.

_Oh, there he is.  He slipped out from all that lube he insisted on using._

“Motherfucker!” he growled, as Donna reached down and guided him back inside of her. “Sorry,” he mumbled against her neck.

Benedict once again began to thrust as Donna held onto his shoulders, thrusting her hips against his. Seeing himself moving inside her, reinforced his pleasure.

“This feels amazing, Benedict. Are you doing okay?”

_Where did he go?_

_No! I’m not doing okay. My dick slipped out of your cunt again!  
_

“Jesus fucking Christ! You’re too slick from the lube!” he lamented.

“Fuck yeah. It’s merrily dripping down into my ass.”

“Those are your secretions. This lube isn’t supposed to dissolve and drip like that.”

“Well, this lube _does_. If you don’t believe me, feel free to take a look.”

“Can I have a rain check?”

“My, aren’t you a greedy bastard! We haven’t even finished, and you’re already planning your next blow job!” laughed Donna.

Benedict started to laugh along with her. “Sod off, Darling! I was referring to a different kind of rain check!”

“It’s not _all_ lube, granted, but it’s very distracting,” said Donna trying to catch her breath.

Benedict grabbed a fistful of tissues and gently blotted the excess off of Donna. “There! Now, where were we?”

“We were in the midst of hot, passionate sex.”

“I was looking for a distraction to keep myself from coming too quickly, well done you.”

“Glad to have been of service. Now, come here and so I can do some serious stimulating,” said Donna with a wink.

It didn’t take long for either of them to reach the same level of arousal they were at prior to the interruption. This time, to Donna’s delight, Benedict easily entered her without any pain at all. She wrapped her legs around his waist tightly as he resumed thrusting.

“This way you’ll stay put,” she whispered into his ear.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he replied, as his heart rate and breathing escalated. “This feels fucking fantastic.”

“I need you to angle yourself up more…YES…like that. Can you go harder?” Donna rasped, heart pounding as if it were come out of her chest.

_Can I go harder?  Fuck, yeah!  I will have no trouble doing that!_

Benedict felt her once again move her hips against him in order to meet his thrusts. He could hear her panting underneath him.   The tightness coupled with the soft, moist, velvety feeling was beginning to engulf him with each thrust of his hips.

“I can’t last much longer…I’m so close, Donna. I…I…”

“Just a little longer,” cried Donna, as she squirmed to make further contact with Benedict’s rock hard cock. It tapped against her clit with each thrust causing the most pleasurable feelings in her center. She could hear Benedict’s harsh breathing and felt his heart pounding.

“Does it feel good, Ben?”

“So good…too good. I can’t hold back much longer.”

_I’m not getting anywhere on this maddening plateau. I need to come, and I need him to push me over the edge._

“Touch me for God's sake! Rub me like you did before with two fingers!”

Benedict obediently began to rub circles around her clit as she pushed hard against his hand.

“Better?”

Her breathing hitched and a load moan escaped her lips in response. Donna’s eyes were tightly shut as she continued to moan with pleasure.

It didn’t take long before Donna felt herself tottering on the brink of her orgasm as Benedict began to roll her clit between his thumb and index finger. She rocked her hips to gain even more friction, as he increased the speed and pressure.

“Do you like what I’m doing? Does it feel good? I want to make you come, Darling. Put your legs over my shoulders.”

Donna did as he asked and felt him place his hands under her bottom pulling her against him as he began to thrust in and up against the wall of her vagina, hitting the G-spot and triggering a shuddering climax. The intensity caused her toes to curl and her whole body to spasm.

_HOLY FUCKING HELL! He’s hitting something right! Nothing ever felt this good!_

“BEN! BEN! BEN! Oh my GOD! Oh my GOD! I fucking love you!” She screamed.

“I love you, Donna.”

_I found it. Holy fucking hell is right. I made her come while I was inside of her!  Well done me._

“I love you, _Ben Honey,_ ” Donna cried as her uterine contractions gripped his penis tightly.   He felt hot tears on his face as his kissed her, not sure if they were his or hers.

Benedict knew he was at the point of no return. His balls had drawn up tightly against his body, and he could feel how swollen they were. His pleasure quickly intensified as his release was imminent.

“Hold me, Donna!” Benedict gasped. “Hold me tight!”

Benedict felt the tingling at the base of his spine that signaled the start of his climax as he thrusting became erratic. He felt the strong contractions and pulsing at the base of his penis, causing the most intense sensations of pure unadulterated pleasure to engulf him as he ejaculated deep inside of Donna. Benedict’s mind had blanked out as all he could concentrate on were the strong feelings and emotions he was experiencing. He buried his face in the crook of her neck and felt her hold him tightly against her as the exquisite contractions began to subside. She was whispering sweet, loving words to him which were tugging at his heart strings, as she rubbed his back soothingly.

“Are you okay?” she managed to ask.

“Yeah,” he barely breathed. “I haven’t come this hard in a long time.”  

Benedict garnered the presence of mind to gently withdraw from her and flopped onto his back, breathing hard, a sheen of perspiration covering his face and body. He looked glassy-eyed and his curly auburn hair was tousled. Donna could see that his face and upper chest were flushed from his exertions. She studied him for several minutes whilst waiting for their breathing to return to normal. The fine lines on his face had relaxed, making him look younger than his thirty-three years. She could see that his penis had gone flaccid and was slowly returning to its normal size, foreskin once again covering the head. The perspiration on her own skin had evaporated, and Donna felt a bit chilled even though the room was toasty warm from the fireplace being on. Benedict turned his ice-blue gaze on her and smiled lazily at her.

“Cold?”

“A little.”

“Blimey! That’s a first!” Benedict chortled as he sat up and leaned over in order to cover them with the top sheet and blanket. He settled back down and shiveredhimself. “Better?”

“Much.”

They lay side-by-side in companionable silence, hands entwined,  each lost in their own thoughts.

_I never had a man talk to me so much in bed, but it did show that he was right about being able to communicate.  I think we did great for our first time. Our technique may not have been perfect, but the results were damn good!  I wonder if I satisfied him. He seems to have enjoyed himself. I thought he would be chatty afterwards, but he isn’t. He’s keeping to himself, which doesn’t seem like the Benedict I know and love. I figured he would have been requesting a thorough review of our love-making, but he fooled me. Danny used to want a snack afterwards or fall asleep. Roy would just pick up his laptop and do some work. Maybe Benedict’s disappointed? I did warn him I wasn’t the most experienced woman. I bet he’s used to mind-numbing Cirque du Soleil sex.  
_

_She’s not saying anything. Why don’t women ever say anything afterwards? Liv used to want to watch some telly before going to sleep. Anna always wanted to shower and go right to sleep. I wonder if Donna fancies a cuddle or something else. We could have a tipple or watch a movie. I hope she doesn’t find me wanting as a lover. I think I'd be crushed if she were to tell me I was awful in the sack. I tried so hard to please her._

“Fancy a cuddle?” he asked hesitantly.

_Now, that’s more like my Benedict. It’s like he read my mind._

“I thought you’d never ask,” replied Donna, as she eagerly scooted against him. She rested her head on Benedict’s shoulder and half-turned so she could reach over and lay her hand upon his chest while he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close.

“This is nice and cozy,” Benedict said, nuzzling her neck. “There’s nothing quite like a good cuddle after such…intense… intimacy.” _  
_

“I love any excuse to cuddle with you,” declared Donna, as she toyed with his sparse chest hair.

_What does he mean by intense intimacy? He’s so wordy._

Benedict smiled, enjoying the feeling of her breasts against the side of his chest. “That was really lovely,” he sighed happily.

_Lovely. An interesting choice of word. It’s the British in him I suppose. He must mean he’s pleased. I need clarification though.  
_

“Did I satisfy you, Benedict? Did I please you? I want you to be completely honest with me.”

Benedict took a deep breath and smiled at her. “I thought it was obvious,” he chuckled. “Now, this is going to sound like a cliché, but I mean it when I say that I’ve never had such satisfying sex – physically… or… emotionally.”

He paused and swallowed hard, ice-blue eyes suddenly glistening bright with tears.

_Motherfucker. I’m getting that ache in my chest again. My emotions are so raw right now._ _I can’t believe I was able to make her come like that. I’ve never done that before during intercourse._

_He looks very emotional – like he does when he’s going to cry during a play or movie. Every time I think about how it looked to see him inside me…gosh, sex has never caused me to feel this way afterwards. I feel like I could cry myself – I’m so happy and relieved._

“I’m so happy to hear you say that, Ben Honey. I was so worried that I wouldn’t be able to please you. I was so afraid that you’d be disappointed.”

Benedict heard the hitch in her voice and felt the tug at his heart strings.

“How could you have thought that? I love you, and I understand that your experiences weren’t the best. I’ve been worried that I would wind up disappointing _you_ in bed.”

Donna raised herself up on an elbow to look at him. “Disappoint me? Are you kidding me? You are the only man who ever cared whether or not I was satisfied. You didn’t rush me, and you were extra gentle and caring. Man on top makes it very difficult for a woman to achieve orgasm, but you managed to get me there! You’re a very skilled lover, Benedict. Everything I hoped you would be and more. You far exceeded my expectations.”

_My ego would normally be through the ceiling, and I would be on Cloud Nine_ , thought Benedict, feeling his throat close and tears stinging his eyes. _Now all I want to do is hold her close and cry my fucking eyes out. I am so, so not suave._  

“Thank you,” he managed to croak.

“It was the first time I ever felt so close to someone…I truly felt we were one while you were inside me. To actually see us joined…well..it was overwhelming.”   Donna swallowed hard. “I don’t know why I feel the urge to cry, but I do,” she blurted out as tears fell onto the pillow.

_We're having some sort of emotional release,_ thought Donna. _He's obviously feeling some strong emotions of his own right now that he needs to deal with in his own way._

Benedict nodded understandingly as tears spilled from his own eyes. “I’ve been feeling the same. Seeing myself buried inside you was…extraordinary. I was so over the moon. It was the first time I actually could feel the love while you were making love to me. It was very…overwhelming… and emotional for me as well, as you can see.” He wiped at his eyes and smiled at her through the tears.

Benedict hugged her so tightly, Donna could scarcely breathe. He took a tissue and wiped at her eyes, then his. “Christ, I should be acting all suave and romantic, and here I am… being all pathetic and soppy, but boys have emotions too!”

“Of course you do, and I like when you’re soppy. I’ve always loved that about you, Benedict. You are not afraid to wear your heart on your sleeve. I always know what you’re feeling inside,” Donna said, brushing her hand over his heart. “I hope you never change, my Love.”

He took her hand and kissed it. “I love you so much, Donna. It really was wonderful. It meant so much to me that I was able to make you happy and see you satisfied. I feel so satisfied. I finally feel complete. My father was right. The sex act feels amazing, but it is so much more once you’ve fallen in love. Tonight I finally came to understand what he meant. You know, before we met, I had decided to abstain from sex until I truly fell in love, and tonight was proof to me that everything Dad had said was right.”

“Tim is a wise man,” Observed Donna. “And I just adore him. He’ll make a great father-in-law and grandfather one day.”

_Sorry, can’t say the same about yours, I'm afraid.  
_

“You were right about things never being perfect the first time,” mused Donna. “But I think we came damn close. The ending was what counted, and we both had a happy ending.”

“I was utterly mortified when I kept sliding out of you....Christ, I still am.”

“We kept making those wet, smacking noises every time we came together,” giggled Donna. “It sounded very pornographic, didn’t it?”

Benedict giggled along with her. “Yeah, now that you mention it, it did.”  They both laughed as he imitated the sounds.

“It was all that lube we used!”

“I also found it very arousing,” commented Benedict.

“I was afraid I was going to get the urge to fart.”

“I think I may have.”

“Well, if you did, I didn’t notice.”

“I’m sure _you_ would have,” pointed out Benedict, tweaking the tip of her nose.

“You right. I would have. You didn’t.”

“Brilliant.”

They lay quietly, sharing soft, gentle kisses while wrapped in each others arms.

“It was a long journey to get here, and I wanted to ensure the trip was worth your while,” he smiled at her flirtatiously.

“I love nothing more than a nice long road trip, complete with rest stops,” she giggled.

“Fancy another ride then?”

“I thought you needed time to refuel.”

“I guarantee you that I’m more than up to it,” he smirked, pressing the start of an erection against her leg.

“Well, in that case, let’s start our engines!” Laughed Donna Saint James.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Well, Donna and Benedict have finally had sex after 87 chapters and almost two years of telling their story. I hope it was worth the wait and would greatly appreciate hearing from you all if it was. I’m not comfortable writing sex scenes as I've written before - I was even tweaking it this morning one last time before posting; but this time I'm satisfied with the result. I compare the writing of this chapter to giving birth - though I think that was easier. LOL. 
> 
> 2\. I wanted to go into a lot of detail for their first time as I wanted to show what the characters were feeling and what was going on inside their heads, as there is more to sex than just the act itself.
> 
> 3\. I wanted this to depict that not every sexual encounter is perfect, as it is so often portrayed in movies and stories; yet I felt after all this time Benedict and Donna deserved to have a gratifying one. 
> 
> 4\. I do picture Benedict as being very emotional, therefore, my version of him is - even in bed.
> 
> 5\. Benedict did mention to Caitlin Moran in her second interview about being stung on his penis by a sea anemone when he was a child.


	89. Chapter 89

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part Five of the Cornwall Holiday: The morning after Benedict and Donna consummate their love. Benedict’s snooping uncovers both annoying and interesting information. Donna struggles with putting work before play. More lovey-dovey sappiness and smut in this chapter. 
> 
> Warning: There is explicit sex in this chapter.
> 
> Note: I’ll be using ******** for things happening at the same time.

 

Donna Saint James opened her eyes and found that she and Benedict Cumberbatch had been sleeping in a spoon position with his arm resting just underneath her bare breasts. His body was warm, and she could feel his chest moving slightly with his steady, gentle breathing. Donna could also feel his morning erection pressing against her bottom. A loud, gurgling sound emitted from her stomach, signaling that it was empty. 

_I wonder what time it is. According to my stomach’s clock, I’m supposed to be reviewing breakfast. Thank goodness he didn’t wake up._

Donna squinted at the clock in the darkness to see it was almost ten thirty. 

_Crap! I never sleep this late. Those black out drapes certainly do their job. Hmmm…I can also detect a bit of that funky post-sex smell. I need a shower and to order some food. I won’t have time to get ready and go down to the dining room before they stop serving at eleven.  
_

Donna gently removed Benedict’s arm from around her, and attempted to slip out of the bed without waking him. Luckily, he only stirred slightly and burrowed deeper under the covers. 

_I hope I don’t wake him. I know it’s his vacation, and he wants to sleep in. What did he call it? Oh, yes. Hibernate. He asked if I’d let him hibernate until he’s had enough sleep. Knowing Benedict that could be most of the day. It’s a good thing there are plenty of things I can do while he snoozes._

Donna gingerly felt around for her black satin slippers with her bare feet. The room was still quite dark, but a crack of light emitting from the partially open bathroom door allowed her to make out shapes. 

_Where in the hell did my slippers wind up? I know our nightclothes must be somewhere on the floor. I want to put my chemise and robe on. I doubt my robe’s still at the foot of the bed. It must have wound up on the floor along with everything else._

“And where do you think you’re going?” Rumbled Benedict’s hoarse voice from behind her as he reached out to grab her arm. 

His deep, baritone voice startled her as she stepped down on something sticky and jelly-like. 

_What in the fuck did I just step on? This feels weird and goopy!  
_

Donna immediately switched on the bedside lamp and looked down to see that she was standing on a couple of wads of soiled tissues. 

“Ewww…this feels gross!” 

“Good morning to you, too,” said Benedict sarcastically. “What’s wrong?” 

“Son of a bitch! I just stepped in the tissues I used to catch your semen last night.” 

“I hate to break it to you; Darling, but you are the one who tossed them there.” 

“I was aiming for the wastebasket.” 

“Your aim is bollocks!” laughed Benedict. “Not to mention the waste bin is on my side of the bed.” 

_Damn! He’s right, of course. He got the wastebasket, and I got the phone and clock radio. I hate these hotel room custody battles._

“I have to clean this off my feet. I can’t believe how sticky and jelly-like it still is.” 

“Not so fast, Love! Come back here and say good morning to me properly,” commanded Benedict pulling Donna back onto the bed and into his arms. 

“The fucking tissues are stuck to my feet now. It’s going to get all over the sheets.” 

“Erm…in case you haven’t noticed, the sheets are already soiled beyond redemption,” retorted Benedict, raising an eyebrow at her. “I’m waiting for my good morning kiss.” 

“I haven’t brushed my teeth yet.” 

“Neither have I.” 

“My breath must be awful.” 

“It is.” 

Benedict caught the shocked look on Donna’s face. 

_Good gravy! There’s nothing like starting the day off with some brutal honesty, Benedict. I guess now that we’ve done the deed, romance can fly out the window._

_Oh, Benedict. That’s not how to treat your lover the morning after the best shag of your life. It’s too early for my mouth filter to be working. I need to turn it on before she gets pissed and decides to turn me off._

“However, I’m more than willing to risk it,” said Benedict with a disarming smile. “Besides, I’m sure mine is every bit as bad,” he added while crinkling his nose at her. 

_You can stop crinkling your cute little nose, Benedict. Yours is every bit as bad. I can smell it.  
_

“I don’t want to offend you, Benedict.” 

_Donna is like this every time we have a sleepover! She doesn’t like to kiss me until after she’s brushed her teeth, bless her. It’s not like I want to breathe into each others faces or shove our tongues down each others throats. I’ll be the first to agree that French kissing can wait until we both brush. Just a nice, closed lip kiss would be nice._

“I promise you that I’m not offended in the least or I would’ve have asked. Bodily smells don’t bother me. No one’s breath smells like roses first thing in the morning, and I’d rather be kissed than not. Now, let’s have a proper greeting.” 

_Just remember, Benedict, you asked for it. I’d better keep my mouth closed until I’ve had a chance to get into the bathroom and brush._

Donna gave him a chaste closed-mouthed peck on the cheek. Benedict cocked an eyebrow at her and shook his head. 

“That was a rubbish kiss. I know first-hand that you can do much better than that,” he scolded her, turning her face with both hands until she had no choice but to kiss his lips. 

_Now, that’s more like it. I knew she could do it. She’s so silly sometimes. The oddest things bother her.  
_

“What’s so funny?” 

“That adorable, scrunched up face you just made as if I were a frog with warts.” 

“I’m so afraid of…” 

“Offending me,” he finished with a chuckle. “Well, you can take comfort in the knowledge that you didn’t. It was a perfectly lovely kiss, and just what I wanted. Now, let’s drop the great morning breath debate and soldier on with the day.” 

_No harm done. I guess he really is fine with it. I need to learn to chill._

Donna leaned in and gave him another gentle kiss. His lips were soft and warm to the touch. She smiled warmly at him and cupped his cheek. 

“Good Morning, Ben Honey. Did you sleep well?” 

_Ah! How nice that is to hear first thing in the morning. I wouldn’t mind a morning romp before breakfast…if it still is morning._

Benedict removed her hand from his face and kissed the palm. Then he returned her kiss. She noticed that he was also careful to keep his mouth closed. 

“I had the most restful sleep. How could I not with my beautiful, sexy lover nestled against me all night? It was truly the ultimate comfort. Did you sleep alright, Darling? Feeling refreshed?” 

Donna felt herself blush and tousled his already sleep-mussed hair. 

“I slept very well, judging from the time. It’s getting late though, and I need to order up breakfast before they stop serving in half an hour.” 

Benedict reached out to cup her breast. “I was thinking more in terms of…” 

“I’m on the clock now. We need some food to eat, so I can review it. Then we can play.” 

“And all this time I thought you were trying to sneak out of bed to get dressed again, you naughty girl,” Benedict chuckled. 

_He caught me twice last night trying to put my chemise back on. I like sleeping in my night dress. I’m not used to sleeping in the nude._

“Actually, I have to pee; and find the room service menu,” said Donna sitting on the edge of the bed. She took one of the soiled wash cloths off the bedside table and wiped off her feet with it. 

_Ugh. This has K-Y jelly, semen and God knows what else on it; but this will have to do until I can get to the shower._

“Go ahead then, but I expect you to come back to bed sans clothes,” warned Benedict with a stern look. 

Donna spied her robe on the floor and quickly retrieved it. She felt Benedict’s eyes follow her as she went to the desk and pulled out the book containing the room service menu. She returned to the bed and handed it to Benedict. 

“Since you were such a wonderful and patient lover last night, I’m going to trust your judgement and let you order breakfast,” she said. “Make sure to get two entrees and two side order of streaky bacon, one of them needs to be cooked crisp. I don’t know about you, but I’m ravenous. I’ll be right back.” 

 

********************************************

  

Donna padded into the bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair was mussed and looked like a rat’s nest. She also detected sleep crusted in the corners of her eyes. 

_Yikes! What a mess I am! My hair needs to be combed. I look like I stuck my finger in an electrical socket. First things, first though. I need to pee. Then I’ll just wash my face and give my teeth a quick brushing. I wish I could take some time to thoroughly wash myself, but he’ll only come after me. I’ll have to wait until after breakfast. Maybe a little shower sex would be fun. I’ve never done that before._

 

****************************************************

  

Benedict lay back with his arms behind his head as he watched Donna retreat into the bathroom. He heard her lock the door behind her and smiled to himself. 

_I thought I had broken her of that habit. No worries, I’ve got the rest of my life to work on that. Last night was perfect, even though many parts of it were imperfect…I fucking love that we were able to have a giggle over the bumps. I’ve never felt so loved or so much pure, unadulterated pleasure. I’m feeling so satisfied…so over-the-moon. I will definitely propose to her on her birthday. I don’t want to wait any longer than that. We both know what we want out of life and we want it have it together._

Benedict reached out and hugged Donna’s pillow, deeply inhaling her sweet perfume that still lingered on the pillowcase. 

_Christ, I really fancy that scent. I’m glad I found the bottle she discarded last night in the loo. Had I not had to blow my nose, I never would have seen it in the waste bin. I don’t understand why she tossed it when there were still several drops inside. When I get back to London, I will stop in at Penhaligon’s and see what they would charge to re-create it. If I recall the bespoke scents were quite pricey; but Donna can only get this particular perfume in New York. It would be lovely to surprise her with it! Then she’d be able to have a steady supply of it. Oh, I best be ordering breakfast before she kills me for day dreaming._

Benedict fixed the pillows against the headboard and pulled himself into a sitting position. He opened the menu and perused the breakfast offerings for a couple of minutes. Then he picked up the phone and called in their order. 

_There! That’s sorted. I really need to take a wee myself._

Benedict bounded out of bed and headed towards the bathroom. He paused at the desk to return the menu to the drawer when he spied Donna’s mobile and laptop. 

_Well, hello. What a good time this would be to have a look at her mobile. I never did get the chance to check everything the other night._

“Shall I boot up your laptop, Donna?” he called out. 

“Yrrss, phghse.” 

“Come again?” 

Benedict heard her sputter, cough and spit loudly. 

“Yes! Please.” 

_So much for sound-proofing in the loo,_ he mused. _She’d die if I were to tell her that I heard her taking a poo in there yesterday. Then she’d be stropy that I had gone in there to get the towels without knocking_. 

Benedict turned on the laptop and picked up Donna’s mobile phone. He quickly went to her text messages and saw that they had all been deleted, save for the unread ones. To his disgust, they were from the day before and this morning. 

_I don’t know what I was hoping to find. Oh, yes, you do know, Benedict. You were hoping to find texts between Donna and Mum. How about these new ones? Let’s see…just some people from the Tribune, Carly and Antonia. Dare do I read them?_

Benedict studied the mobile in his hand and rubbed the back of his neck, as he tried to make up his mind as to whether or not he should read them. 

_Don’t do it, Benedict. That’s how you get in trouble. I wonder what Carly had to say and the mother. Oh, fuck it! Donna would read mine in a heartbeat if given the opportunity._ _She's ever bit as curious as I am, if not more._

Benedict quickly skimmed over the messages. The ones from the Tribune were all work-related. The first one was from her editor suggesting she review the afternoon tea. 

_We’re doing that today I believe. Check._

The next one was also from her editor, suggesting she review the cocktails in the bar. 

_We will definitely be doing that. Several times. Check.  
_

Finally, he was left with the personal ones. The first one was from Carly: 

**Hey. Mark Gatiss called to say he’ll drop in on Monday about the catering quote. He’s in Cardiff this week filming _Dr. Who_. Hope your travels have been tasty so far! Curly Carly xoxo  
**

_I hope to hell that’s going to be a gentle refusal of their cockamamie proposal and not an acceptance. If it were an acceptance, I would think Steve Moffat would be the one contacting them to work out the details rather than Mark.  
_

The next one was from Antonia: **  
**

**Hi Muffin! Have a good time and send back anything not cooked to specifications. Make sure to ask for the manager. Love Mom  
**

_Hahaha! Donna’s mother’s a real corker. Can’t wait to eat out with her.  
_

However, the next one from Antonia immediately caused the anger to well up inside Benedict: **  
**

**Just a reminder to use reliable protection. You don’t want to be taking home any unwanted surprise souvenirs from this trip. Mom  
**

_What a fucking cow! I can’t believe that! Conceiving a child during such a loving holiday – planned or unplanned – would be the ultimate souvenir to me.  
_

The last one was from Carly: **  
**

**I also heard from Mom several times. She and Dad will be here the week after you and Benedict get back from your honeymoon. ;-p   Hope its sexalicious so far. Miss you! CC xoxo  
**

_Well, these messages just keep getting better and better. I knew the wankers were coming, but I was hoping to deal with it later rather than sooner. My bad for being nosy...curious. No. I was nosy this time. We’re not on honeymoon. OH, very cheeky, Carly. I get it now. Sexalicious? Fuck yeah!  
_

The mobile vibrated in his hand as a new text message came in. They had agreed to silence and put away their mobiles for the duration of their stay – the only exception being that Donna could use hers if work dictated she had to. _  
_

_Let’s see who could be texting now. Perhaps her mother has some suggestions on how to prevent an unwanted, unplanned conception._

The texter, to Benedict’s disgust, was Rodney Renfield. _  
_

_Well, well, the Wanker Supreme. I wonder what the bastard wants.  
_

Benedict rubbed his upper lip as he read the message: 

**Cheers Lovely! Make sure to try one of the seafood shacks along the beach for a quick lunch. The fresh seafood is brilliant! Regards to Cumberbatch. Luv Uncle Rod  
**

_Bloody hell! Regards? The motherfucker has the bollocks to send me regards after that lousy tongue-in-cheek review he once gave me? Kiss my arse, Wanker! News travels fast. Neil had to have told him about Donna and I being together. I bet he was over-the-moon as hell about it. Ha ha!_

_I need to take the advice Adam gave me over coffee last week and pop over to tell Mum and Dad about the visit. I dread putting them together for the first time._

Benedict listened carefully and heard the sound of running water coming from the bathroom. He quickly went to Donna’s saved phone messages. To his surprise and delight, they were all from him. 

_I love that she saves my messages. That makes me feel warm and happy all over. Oh, the call history. Maybe I’ll find something there.  
_

To his disappointment, all call incoming and outgoing call history had been deleted. 

_I’d really love to leave Carly an equally cheeky message about her cheeky text. Shall I? Why the fuck not. She’s got a good sense of humour. I’ll just add her to my contacts list and send from my mobile. She’ll think Donna’s gone and told me.  
_

Benedict went into Donna’s phone contacts and found himself quickly scrolling right past Carly’s information and froze as he came upon the last entry: 

**Wanda Ventham**

_I knew it! There’s something going on. Why would Donna have Mum listed as one of her contacts? That’s Mum’s mobile number.  
_

_*****************************************************_

 Donna stood before the mirror, patiently combing knots out of her hair. 

_All these friggin knots are the penalty for growing my hair so much longer. I hope Benedict ordered a variety of things for us to try. With my luck, he’ll get two orders of Eggs Benedict. Hmmm…I never thought how cute that sounds to me now: Eggs Benedict. I bet he hates it. He’s never, ever, ordered it when we’ve been out for brunch. Today is supposed to be much warmer than yesterday. Maybe we can go surfing after I do my write up. I just have to remember not to go too close to him, so I don't accidentally kill him. I won’t have time to do a lunch, so I’ll call this brunch. Then maybe we can have their afternoon tea out on the terrace._

Donna’s thoughts were interrupted, when Benedict knocked lightly on the bathroom door. 

“Who goes there?” she teased. 

“Can you please unlock the door so I can come in? I need to take a wicked wee!” 

Donna unlocked the door and Benedict went straight for the room containing the toilet. She watched in the mirror as he lifted the seat up and stood with his back to her. 

_He’s not closing the door. Don’t tell me he’s just going to stand there and…yes, he is, by God. He’s practically peeing right in front of me. I wonder if he’s going to shake it off. Wait…he just took a square of toilet paper. He’s blotting the tip of his dick. Oh, good man! I like that. Wanda taught him well! I will never have to worry about him shaking pee all over the walls or baseboards like Michael did.  The jerk used to practically wave it around like a flag!  
_

Benedict flushed and joined her at the sink. 

“Any idea when the food will be coming up?” 

Benedict looked at her through the mirror. 

“They said half an hour. Could you please move over a bit, so I can wash my hands?” 

Donna scooted over as she took the brush to her hair.   Benedict noted that her breath was clean and minty and her face freshly washed. 

“I thought you were attempting to teach me a new language before,” he said in a teasing tone. 

Donna frowned momentarily. “Oh. That. I had my mouth full of toothpaste.” 

Benedict washed his face and began to brush his teeth. He ran his free hand through his auburn curls and finger-combed them into place. 

_And there will be hot sex after breakfast, Miss Saint James. Then you can write your bloody column. I didn’t come all the way to fucking Cornwall to only get laid twice. The sexual floodgates have been opened, and I’m going to make the most of it._

_I love how he just goes about his business in front of me without a stitch on and seems completely comfortable. Must be from having to do nude scenes in front of others. I’m getting better at it, but hope one day I can be as free as he is._

“Fuklgr hrrr is gotttig to lnnng,” he mumbled around a mouthful of foam. 

“Now who’s teaching who a new language?” Donna giggled.  "You look like a rabid dog." 

Benedict gave her the finger and spat into the sink. “I said my fucking hair is getting too long. I know they want it longer for Van Gogh, but I’m going to look like Mum by the time _Sherlock_ filming rolls around.” 

“I think you’re going to look cute. You looked very hot in those BBC promo shots.” 

Benedict pulled a face and continued to brush. “You and Mum are the only ones in agreement on that. I feel too… womanly.” 

“You may rest assured that there is _nothing_ womanly about you. You are one hundred percent masculine in every way, shape and form; and I love every inch of you…especially those mind-blowing, orgasm inducing, six plus inches between your legs.”

Donna put away her hair brush and wrapped her arms around his slender waist. She rubbed the area between his belly button and start of his pubic hair. 

_Christ, I’m starting to get stiff. Her words go straight to my dick. That was quite the compliment and I’m feeling proud as could be. That rubbing feels damn good, too. There’s no time to act on this – the food will be up soon._

“Don’t start something you have no intention of finishing!” Benedict warned, waving his toothbrush at her. “There are consequences for being a cock tease.” 

“My intent was just to show some affection. I’m going to check my emails while you finish up in here. Shall we have breakfast out on our private terrace?” 

Benedict spat again and rinsed his mouth. “As long as we can sit out there in the buff, I’m fine.” 

“It’s not _that_ private. Anyone could see us from the beach and grounds. However, we could sit out there in those white terry robes if you’d like or...” 

“I was joking, Love. We had planned on having a romantic breakfast in bed…sans clothing,” he reached under her robe and patted her bottom for emphasis. “I don’t want to see you in that robe when I come out,” he added, pulling the sash open in order to openly ogle her body. He moved closer to Donna in order to briefly embrace her before turning back to the sink.  He sighed happily at the warm, skin-to-skin contact. “You are too beautiful for words.” 

_This man makes me feel so sexy and beautiful. I can get used to this. I think I am getting used to it._ _I'm going to make it a point to be more playful and laid back._

There was a loud knock on the door. Benedict finished rinsing his mouth and looked at Donna meaningfully. 

“And that would be breakfast.” 

“Shall I answer the door like this?” teased Donna, allowing the robe to slip off her shoulders onto the floor. “You did insist on no clothes…” 

“For fuck sake! I was joking!” snapped Benedict, grabbing one of the white terry robes off the hook behind the door. “Stop being so damn cheeky!” He quickly wrapped the robe around his naked body and went to answer the door as he tied the belt. 

Donna put her robe back on and wrapped it tightly about her as Benedict answered the door to allow the room service cart to be wheeled in. She crossed the room and opened the drapes, allowing the bright sunlight to fill the room. 

_Oh, it looks so nice outside. Maybe I can talk Benedict into eating out here!  
_

_Bloody hell! Why did she have to draw the drapes open?_

“Where shall I put this?” the young man asked Benedict. 

Donna and Benedict both responded at the same time. 

“Over here,” said Donna, gesturing to the French doors while opening her bag to retrieve a tip. 

“Beside the bed is fine,” said Benedict, as Donna came forward to hand him a quid. 

The server looked from one to the other in bafflement. “Which will it be then?” 

“By the French doors…” Began Donna.

 “Just leave it here please. We’ll sort it out ourselves,” said Benedict with a trace of irritation in his voice. 

_He’s pissed at me. I’ll close the sheers so we can still have light and privacy as well._

“Thank you, Sir, Madam. Enjoy your breakfast.” 

Donna watched as Benedict closed and bolted the door, leaving the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign hanging outside. 

“Are your taste buds ready to go to work then?” inquired Benedict, as he watched her pull the white sheer curtains closed. 

_Now, that’s more like it. She knew I wasn’t thrilled._

“Oh, yes, they are!” replied Donna eagerly, approaching the cart. “Whatever you ordered smells delicious.” 

“It does indeed,” agreed Benedict, making room on his bedside table. “Fetch your pad then and hop back into bed, while I get our drinks sorted.” 

“Look how nice it is outside, Benedict! We could eat on the balcony in our robes,” suggested Donna. “Can I get you to reconsider?” 

“The idea was to share a romantic breakfast _in_ _bed_. Those curtains are thin enough that we can still see outside from the bed. I can see the sea perfectly from here.” 

_And then we’ll have sex afterwards_. _I can’t wait to be inside her again._

“It’s going to be hard to juggle all that in bed, Benedict. If we eat outside, we can spread everything out on the table.” 

Benedict fixed her with an annoyed look as he stopped, tea pot in hand as he weighed his options. Finally, he put down the pot and sighed. 

_She does make a valid point. It will be hard to juggle everything in bed. Especially since she has to take notes._

“It would be easier for you to work on a proper table, I suppose,” he said reluctantly. 

_Oh, Donna, you selfish bitch. Look at his face. He clearly expected a cuddly breakfast in bed, and now I’m trying to sabotage his plans. Be nice and think of a way to compromise.  
_

“Wait. I’ve got an idea how we can mix business with pleasure, so both of us get what we want,” said Donna excitedly. She went to the bed and began fluffing up the pillows and smoothing the sheets. “We’ll eat one dish at a time. You can feed me while I take notes. As long as you don’t mind sitting very close together, we should have no problem.” 

Benedict’s face brightened. “It’s a sacrifice I’m more than willing to make on behalf of your readers.” He picked up two glasses of cold juice. “Let’s start with these then. Orange juice. The menu said it’s supposedly freshly-squeezed, but they always say that, don’t they?” Benedict chortled. “One plain, one with a splash of cranberry, which do you fancy trying first?” 

“Jeez, you’re becoming awfully jaded since you started hanging out with me. I’ll try the one with the cranberry, please. Be right back,” said Donna, dashing across the room to retrieve a small pill box from her purse. “I wouldn’t want to forget to take these. My vitamin and birth control pill.” 

Benedict’s face clouded over briefly. “We certainly wouldn’t want to bring home an unwanted surprise souvenir,” he muttered sarcastically, removing a silver cover from one of the plates to inspect the contents. “Heaven forbid.” 

“What are you talking about, Ben Honey? What souvenir?” 

“Nothing,” he replied sullenly, setting aside the dish cover much harder than he should have, causing Donna to jump at the loud clatter. 

_Okay. Now, I know he’s angry. I just called him ‘Ben Honey’, and he didn’t get that dreamy faraway look in his eyes. Why is he acting pissy all of a sudden? It’s like someone flipped a switch. I wonder what set him off like this.  
_

“Oopps – almost forgot my trusty note pad,” said Donna going over towards the desk. She saw the light blinking on her phone indicating that there were messages. 

_I wonder if I have time for a quick look._

Donna glanced back over her shoulder to see Benedict was busy fixing their hot drinks as he sipped from the glass of orange juice. 

“I got you English Breakfast because it’s closest to _regular_ tea,” he said, adding two cubes of demerara sugar to her cup. “Hold the caffeine.” 

“Thank you,” said Donna, scrolling through her messages. She immediately understood Benedict’s sudden change in mood as she read her mother’s messages. “Jesus Christ!” she hissed in anger. “She never, _ever_ , lets up for one minute!” 

_Those were Mom’s words he muttered. My honey was busy reading my messages while I was in the bathroom. Oh, Mom, what a bitchy and uncalled for thing to say!_

“You okay?” asked Benedict, concern in his voice. 

Donna turned to face him, cellphone in her hand. He had removed his robe and was sitting in the bed, propped up against the pillows holding a plate of what looked like French toast. His face immediately reddened as he paused with fork in hand. 

_Fuck me! She knows I read her text messages. Why didn’t I mind my own business for once?  
_

_Thank God, I made it a habit to delete all my tracks when it came to my communications with Wanda or anyone else for that matter._

Donna slowly approached the bed. She made a show of removing her robe and climbed in beside Benedict, sitting close enough that their bare thighs and legs were touching. He watched as she pulled up the duvet to just cover her breasts. 

_Not surprising. I’ve yet to sit in bed with a naked woman who didn’t cover up her breasts. Even Olivia did that, and we were together for over ten years. I will never completely comprehend feminine behaviour._

“That was a good idea to sit right by the night stand,” Donna said as she prepared to take notes. “Before I forget to mention it, I also thought it was a good idea to put that bath sheet under us last night. It caught all the drips.” 

“No one should have to sleep in the wet spot,” he chuckled. “I did offer to be fair.” 

“And I love you for that, but I like to be nearer the bathroom - not to mention that you like to be nearer to the fireplace because you're always cold."

"True, true."

"So, what’s this? French toast?” 

Benedict nodded. “French toast made with egg bread, rolled in toasted coconut and the toppings are homemade lemon curd whipped cream cheese and rhubarb compote. Sounded good yes?” 

“It sure does, and it smells incredible. Let’s give it a try,” said Donna, as Benedict forked up some. She opened her mouth, but he held the fork midway from her mouth. 

_What is he doing? I feel stupid sitting here with my mouth open._

“Would you fancy your own fork? I wouldn’t want you to catch my germs,” he teased. “Or have you moved beyond that by now?” 

“Hey! Stop teasing me! I don’t do that anymore!” exclaimed Donna, lightly smacking his upper arm. “We’ve shared food and drinks countless times since that lunch at Viet Noodles!” 

“I was just making sure you hadn’t changed your mind. Jolly good then. No need to stand on ceremony. Open up that gorgeous mouth of yours.” 

Donna opened her mouth as Benedict fed her some French toast. Then he took some for himself. 

“Yum…this is scrumptious,” she said making some notes. “The bread is nice and eggy, the toasted coconut gives it a pleasant nuttiness. I really like how the chef folded the lemon curd into the whipped cream cheese. It is definitely a winner in my book.” 

“Yeah, it’s quite tasty,” Benedict agreed, feeding Donna another bite. “The rhubarb adds just the right amount of tartness so it’s not overly sweet.” 

_I love seeing how much he enjoys participating in my reviews. He takes it very seriously. He looks so cute when he’s chewing and thinking about what he wants to say._

“Good point. What else did you get us?” 

“Grilled kippers on white toast with seaweed butter, cheddar-tomato jam and topped with two fried eggs. It was supposed to be one egg, but I got us each one.” 

“Seaweed butter,” repeated Donna thoughtfully. “That sounds different.” 

“I thought it sounded like an interesting combination.” 

“It does. Let’s give it a try.” 

Benedict ate the remainder of the French toast while he uncovered the other plate and proceeded to cut up the kippers and toast into bite-sized pieces. 

_I could see him doing that for our children one day, speaking of which, I think we need to clear the air about Mom and her acerbic text message._

“I’m sorry that you saw my mother’s text message,” began Donna. 

“I shouldn’t have been reading them. I got what I deserved,” said Benedict with a guilty look as he forked up a perfect bite of the egg dish for her. “I didn’t realize just how much your mother loathes me.” 

“She doesn’t loathe you, Benedict. She just wants to make sure we don’t have a family before we’re ready to. Granted, she should have been more tactful about it; but she had no idea you would be reading the message.” 

“How can anyone refer to a child conceived in love as being ‘an unwanted surprise souvenir’? I can’t comprehend the callousness of her words, Donna. Perhaps you could clarify them for me?” 

Donna sighed. “My mother is very old-fashioned when it comes to courtship, marriage and children. Those are _her_ opinions, not _mine_.” 

“What would your mother have done if she had gotten pregnant before she was ready to, eh?” 

Donna laughed bitterly. “That _never_ would have happened. I bet my parents were anal when it came to birth control. I could see them using the pill plus condoms!” 

“Never say, _never_ , Donna. It can happen to anyone. Birth control isn’t one hundred percent reliable - even your precious pills can fail. It can happen to us one day.” 

_Why is he getting so worked up over my mother’s text? I need to reassure him that I’m not like her and that I would have no problem with an unplanned pregnancy._

“You’re absolutely right. It _can_ happen to anyone,” agreed Donna, taking his hand in hers. “I want to assure you that if it did happen to us, the baby would be as welcomed and loved every bit as much as if he or she had been planned. A baby is a gift from God as far as I’m concerned. Someone to be treasured,” she said, her face and tone serious. 

Benedict’s face softened at her words, and he smiled at her. “It means a lot to me to hear you say that. Sometimes I worry about these things, you know?” 

“You need to stop worrying. We are both on the same page, Benedict. I’m also fairly sure we will not be bringing home anything more than my Waterford vase.” 

“I wouldn’t mind if you were to become pregnant now,” Benedict said wistfully. “I _really_ wouldn’t. Not for an instant.” 

“And we will one day. When the time is right, we will have kids.” 

Benedict nodded as he ate some of the egg dish. “Mmm…I really fancy the cheddar-tomato jam.” Then he gave Donna another bite before she could respond to his comment. She chewed and swallowed before speaking. 

“The jam is excellent. Maybe they will sell me some to take home. I also like the seaweed butter on the toast. It enhances the flavor of the kippers. It’s a very unique dish.” 

“I wasn’t sure about the seaweed butter, but it does add just the right amount of saltiness. Shit! Speaking of saltiness, I forgot about our streaky bacon,” Benedict said uncovering one last plate. “I asked for ‘crispy’ because I know you like it that way.” 

Donna munched on a slice of the bacon. “I would have liked it cooked a little more, but it’s very good quality. There is a nice balance of smoke to sweetness. I’d say they use Applewood chips and a bit of brown sugar.” 

“They cure it in-house per the menu. I do taste apple, and it’s not too smoky. Fancy another rasher?” 

“Thank you. There is nothing worse than over-smoked bacon. It overpowers the flavor of the meat.” 

Benedict poured himself another cup of espresso and added two demerara sugar cubes to it. He took a sip and settled back against the pillows as Donna made more notes. 

“Not meaning to backtrack, Ben,” she said offhandedly. “But for the record, my mother told us we were all planned.” 

“Not _all_ of you,” smirked Benedict, eating the last rasher of bacon. “You and Carly are fraternal twins. There is no conceivable way they could have planned for _that_.” 

“They knew twins ran in my mom’s side of the family, so it wasn’t a _complete_ surprise.” 

“I couldn’t imagine a nicer surprise than finding out we were having more than one baby,” declared Benedict, as Donna looked up from her writing. 

_It’s time to shut up now, Benedict. She looks like she wants to slap a muzzle on you.  
_

_My honey wasn’t kidding when he said he’s broody. Holy cow! I can’t even imagine what he’s going to be like once we really do start trying to conceive._

“And now I’ll shut up and stop being so fucking broody. How are the eggs?” 

“These eggs are perfectly cooked,” replied Donna. “I hate when they break the yolks or cook them so hard there’s no life left to them.” 

They soon finished the eggs, and Benedict poured Donna the last of her tea. Then he poured himself the remainder of the espresso. He sipped the strong brew while he watched Donna make her final notes on the egg dish and bacon. Finally, she put the pad and pen aside and snuggled against him with her head resting on his shoulder. Donna felt his lips brush the top of her head as he stroked her hair with his free hand. 

_I should just hop out of bed and do the breakfast/brunch write up, but it’s so nice and cozy here with Benedict. How odd that I’m suddenly turning into a procrastinator.  
_

_Hmmm…now would be a good time for a little post-breakfast shag. I’m starting to feel a bit horny…no…I’m feeling a fuck of a lot horny. I bet she’s going to get up now and work on her column. I wish she wouldn’t, but she is here to work. I really should haul my arse out of this bed and go for a run on the beach and do my morning meditation.  
_

_Get up and write, Donna! You know it’s the right thing to do. I can feel the heat radiating off his body. That lean, taut, sexy body. I can hear his heart beating. I’m so enjoying being in this nice, warm cocoon with him. I really want to just stay here and snuggle with him.  
_

_Donna’s lingering, which isn’t at all like her. I bet she’d rather stay here with me. I bet she also fancies a shag about now. Do the right thing, Benedict. Tell her it’s okay to do her work now. We can have sex after she’s done.  
_

Benedict placed his cup on the nightstand and lifted Donna’s chin to him. He planted a sweet kiss on her lips, followed by another one on the tip of her nose. 

“That was a lovely breakfast in bed, Darling. I appreciate your indulging me.  Not only is the view from the bed spectacular, but the one inside it is as well,”  he purred, winking at her and running his hand along her thigh, causing her to shiver.

“It’s so nice being here with you like this, Benedict,” Donna sighed. 

“I hate to put a damper on the mood, but don’t you have work to do?” 

“Well…” 

“I don’t wish to be a bad influence on you. Off you go then!” said Benedict brusquely, as he made to lift the covers off of Donna. 

_The day I invited him along was the start of allowing him to influence me. I don’t want to write that damn column now. I want him to fuck my brains out. The column can wait._

Donna reached out to stop him. 

“I’ve decided to write up the breakfast and afternoon tea at the same time, so for the time being, I’m all done!” 

“As I just said, I don’t wish to be a bad influence…” 

“But I _want_ to be influenced…badly. You’ve been very patient with me, Benedict; and I love you for it.” 

Benedict chuckled as he kissed Donna again. “No one _ever_ uses the word ‘patient’ when referring to me. It’s quite a nice change. Seriously now – get your bum out of this bed and write your column.” 

Donna rested her hand lightly on his crotch as she kissed him hard. 

“There is no reason why I can’t take a little break to have some cuddle time with my favorite man,” she whispered in his ear, taking time to lick the shell of his ear and gently suck his earlobe. 

Benedict visibly shivered in response. “Are you trying to seduce me, Donna Saint James?” 

“Yes,” she purred, nibbling on his earlobe and planting soft kisses down his neck. “How am I doing?” 

_How are you doing? I’m starting to get stiff as hell is what._

“You’re doing a brilliant job,” he replied, voice suddenly husky. 

“That’s what I want to hear, Benedict.” 

“You’re sure then?” he asked hesitantly. 

“Absolutely! Now, hush up and kiss me.” 

“I’m such a tart for cuddling with a sexy woman,” Benedict sighed, pulling Donna closer to him and snuggling down a bit against the pillows. “Last night was wonderful,” he said softly, in between a series of gentle kisses. “I’m still so over-the-moon about how well things turned out. I mean we had a few hiccups, but all in all it was quite the success.” 

Donna lifted her head to gaze into his ice blue eyes. “Last night was everything a first time should be: Romantic, loving, sexy, playful - yet serious, too. I meant every word I said last night from the bottom of my heart.” 

“As did I,” said Benedict quietly. “We were running on pure, raw emotions last night. It was an important step, and I want to assure you that I didn’t take it lightly.” 

“I’ve never given myself to a man unless I was serious about him.” 

“I truly felt your love and it makes me treasure what we have all the more. I’m glad I waited to fall in love before taking you to bed. It made all the difference…last night was very special to me.” 

“This is going to sound very corny, but I think of sex as the ultimate gift I could have given you in order to completely express my love.” 

“It was the most precious gift you could have given me, Darling – with the exception of a child, of course.” 

“I love you, Ben Honey.” 

“I love you, too, Donna.” 

Benedict handed Donna her cup and picked up his cup as well. The couple sat in companionable silence whilst Donna drank her tea, and Benedict his espresso. Each found themselves lost in their own thoughts.

“Donna?” 

“Mmmm?” 

“When you say it’s a gift, I hope you don’t mean that this is something I’m only going to get on Christmas and my birthday.” 

Donna snickered. “You’re forgetting that you’ll be able to also count on our anniversary and Father’s Day in the future.” 

“You’re such a cheeky girl.” 

“Yes, I am; and so are you.” 

Benedict tentatively lifted the covers and looked underneath. “I’m definitely not a girl.” 

“No, you’re not; but I wouldn’t mind some proof,” Donna giggled as she noticed the covers had tented over his lap. 

“Then proof you shall have, my love,” Benedict laughed, taking her empty cup and placing it on the nightstand along with his. As he pulled her into a tight embrace, the covers fell down to her waist so they were skin-against-skin. “How’s this?” he growled, pressing the start of an erection against her stomach. 

“So far, so good,” murmured Donna, as she ran her hands though his thick auburn hair. She gently tugged at his sensitive hair follicles and deftly massaging his scalp, causing a low, throaty moan to escape his cupids bow lips. She turned so as to lean against him, bare breasts pressing against his chest so he could feel her already-hardened nipples. 

_I love her breasts. I love snogging her. I love the way she touches my scalp. I love her so fucking much I could burst. I want to take it slow again, and show her how I feel.  
_

The couple spent several minutes locked in a tight embrace while sharing, deep, sensual kisses that left them both breathless and yearning for each other even more than either of them could imagine. They looked into each others eyes and saw the burning desire each of them was feeling. 

_I enjoyed everything he did to me last night. I loved how we took our time and got to know and enjoy each others bodies better. Both times may not have been text book perfect, but the end result was mind-blowing for both of us. I remember Carly saying that it doesn’t matter how you reach orgasm, as long as you both manage to get there. Things feel different this morning. Now, I just want to get him off and vice versa. This is what lust feels like. I never thought I’d feel this way about having sex._

_I don’t think I can pace myself like I did last night. My heart’s in the right place, but my peen is in another. I’m so fucking randy, and I sense she is also. Her pupils are completely dilated already. Not every encounter has to be as tender and loving as last night. I have a feeling neither of us will last very long at this rate._

Benedict felt even more tightening as his cock reacted to her gentle, yet firm hair pulling. 

“Oh, that feels very…verrry nice. Is this proof enough?” he asked, pressing himself against her for emphasis. 

“I’m a believer,” Donna gasped as she felt his hardness rub up against her, causing her to grind against him. 

Benedict took himself in hand and rubbed against her swollen labia. He spread her lips apart and barely brushed the tip of his penis against the entrance to her vagina. 

“Is this better?” 

“Ahhhhhhhh!!!!!! _Much_ better.” 

Benedict suddenly backed off and rested himself against her leg. His face was flushed and his chest was heaving. 

“Damn it, Benedict, you cunt tease!” 

“I’m just trying to maximize our pleasure, Darling. The longer the foreplay, the more intense our climaxes will be.” 

Donna reached down to fondle him. “You have quite an impressive dick there, my friend,” she observed. 

Benedict regarded her with a raised eyebrow. “ _Friend_? Oh, I’m much more than a friend after what we did last night. I think that having sex qualifies us as…” 

“Lovers,” finished Donna with a grin. “It was just an expression, you silly man. Now, relax and let me have a turn at playing with him. I won’t make you come until you’re ready.” She reached down and took his cock in her hand and felt him twitch at the contact. “I would _never_ treat a friend like this,” she said in a low, seductive voice that made Benedict’s spine tingle. 

Benedict felt his excitement increasing as Donna demonstrated by lightly stroking his shaft and running her index finger around his foreskin, causing him to shiver involuntarily. She noticed that his bare arms were suddenly covered with goosebumps. 

“No. God, I hope you wouldn’t,” he gasped as he adjusted her hand in order to gain more friction. “Rub here. Yes, that’s the spot. A bit more vigourously if you don’t mind.” 

_He’s really breathing hard, and his eyes are shutting involuntarily. I bet he’d go off like a firecracker if he were to enter me now. I still need some more stimulation from him to get to the edge._

Donna rubbed Benedict’s frenulum as instructed until he groaned loudly and readjusted her hand once again. His hand trembled slightly and his head fell back against the pillow as he fought to open his eyes. Donna could see that his lips were all pink and swollen, his eyes midnight blue. 

“I want you so much, Darling. I want to be inside you again,” Benedict sighed, his arousal level mounting steadily with every stroke. “I’m not going to be able to last much longer.” He fisted the sheets and groaned with pleasure. 

_Honey is getting impatient for the main event. I can’t believe I’m already feeling wet from just watching him, and he hasn’t touched me yet. He needs to stop focusing on himself and show me a little…OH YES, and there he is! Right on cue. OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD – what bliss this is! I suddenly don’t give a damn about the column. I want to do this all day._

Donna cried out as she felt Benedict’s nimble fingers between her legs stimulating her already swollen and pulsating core. She squirmed against his hand and rubbed him even harder. 

“That feels…there are no words…AH….do you like what I’m doing? Am I making you feel good, Darling?” he breathed. 

“Ye…ye…yesssss. That’s very good,” replied Donna, taking his hand and repositioning it to her liking. “And this is even better. BEN! Jesus!” She arched her back as he took her clit between his thumb and index finger and rolled it in between his fingers causing her whole groin area to quiver with pleasure. “I’m going to come!” 

“Not yet,” Benedict growled, kicking back the covers in one swift motion, leaving them both fully exposed in the sunlight that was streaming though the sheer curtains. 

Donna could see that he was fully erect, head reddened with a drop of milky-white semen oozing from the slit in the tip. The cool air quickly evaporated the beads of perspiration that had formed on her body. Benedict began to immediately focus on her breasts, caressing and cupping them as he kissed every inch of exposed flesh. She felt him squeeze, and then gently tug her nipples with his lips until they were ultra-sensitive and hard. She pulled at his hand, placing it in between her legs again. 

“I need to come, Ben. I need to come _now_.” 

_I love that she isn’t shy about telling me what she wants or how she wants it. I am truly blessed._

Benedict inserted one finger in Donna’s vagina, followed by the other. He moved them gently in and out, while probing for the spot that would take her over the edge. 

_Christ, she’s so wet. I need to give her the release she needs._

“Close, Love?” 

Donna gasped and panted. “YES! Use that dirty-minded texting finger of yours like you did last night - NOW!” 

_I fucking love that she’s enjoying this so much – and in broad daylight. She’s too excited to notice. There’s hope for her yet._

“As you like, my Darling,” Benedict said with a smug smile as he made the motion that caused her body to shudder and contort with pleasure. He felt her squeeze his shoulder tightly as he kept his thumb on her clit and made circular motions. 

_She’s climaxing. I love how responsive she is_ , thought Benedict as he felt her muscles contracting and relaxing around his fingers. 

“Oh, Ben….my darling Benedict…this is …so good…press harder – YES LIKE THAT! I love you so.” 

_Holy cow! That was just what I needed. This man has the most amazing fingers, and he knows just how to use them. He could write a sex column on how to please a woman for Cosmo._

_My turn, but first I need to see if I can replicate what happened last night. The odds are slim, but I can try._

Donna lay limply on her side, watching him as she came back down to earth from her climax. He noticed her face and upper body were flushed; and most importantly – there was a look of contentment on her face. 

“Shall we try for another, Darling?” 

_He’s offering to give me another orgasm like that one? Oh, yes, please!_

Donna smiled lazily at him and took a deep breath. “I’m game, if you are.” 

“I’m hoping to make you come while I’m inside you.” 

_Oh, that’s a long shot. The first time last night was dumb luck. I told him I didn’t mind the second time. His tongue more than made up for it. I’m getting wetter just thinking about it. I could be happy just receiving oral from him.  
_

“You can try, but don’t be disappointed if I don’t…” 

“Stop talking so damn much, Donna. Just relax and concentrate on what you’re feeling.” _  
_

_He’s telling me to stop talking? He’s the one who gives play-by-play commentary in bed, which I think I’m getting used to.  I think I actually look forward to it now.....Ooooo…those long, sexy fingers. Jeez, that feels incredible…maybe that’s why sex with him is so satisfying. He really does care how I feel and that I like what he’s doing.  
_

_She needs to be on top this time. It’s the easiest position for women to climax in. I’ll also be able to last longer if she’s in control._

Benedict once again used his agile fingers to bring Donna back to the same level of arousal she had been at prior to her orgasm. He was pleased that it didn’t take her long at all. He smiled to himself as she held his hand in place. 

_She’s starting to forget about me. I need some more stimulation._

“Donna, would you mind doing a bit of rubbing and twisting my knob like you’ve been doing? I really get off on that, and I’m starting to get soft.” 

_He’s right. I need to take things in hand, literally. I bet he wouldn’t mind if I paid his balls a little attention, too._

Donna did as he asked, with a smug look on her face. He could hear her rapid breathing and felt her warm breath on his face as she moved closer. Benedict sighed as she began to touch his penis and slid his foreskin up and down over his tip, causing him to shudder with pleasure. She then paused to cup and caress his balls, which had pulled up against his body. 

_Holy motherfucking hell! Well, that didn’t take long! My fucking God! She knows just how to pump me back up with that twist to the head! JESUS! I love when she squeezes my balls like that. NOOOOO! I’m going to come. Need to distract…To be or not to be…fuck the Bard this time around. I’m just about at the point of no return._

“We need to do this NOW!” he practically shouted, his breathing harsh and ragged. “ _PLEASE_!” 

Benedict planted a wet, sloppy, coffee-flavoured kiss on Donna’s lips and urgently groped the nightstand for the lube. He quickly squirted a dab into the palm of his hand, and rubbed his hands together in order to warm it. 

_OH, no! Here he goes with that damn lube. He’s going to be slipping and sliding out of me again. I must remember to hide that damn tube tonight.  
_

“I don’t think I need any lube, Ben Honey.” 

“You’re right. You’re dripping already. We just need a bit this time,” he rasped, chest heaving. “AHHHHHHHH…Jesus fucking Christ! Give me a minute before I come in your hand.” 

Donna felt him apply a small amount to the entrance to her vagina and watched him gingerly coat his penis. 

_I knew he wouldn’t listen to me. Next, he’s going to ask me which position I want to try…hmmm…we did missionary twice last night…we could try sitting and rocking like I read in Cosmo…Wait a minute! WHAT THE FUCK?_

Benedict surprised Donna by quickly lying on his back and gently lifting her up so she was straddling him with her knees on either side of his hips. 

_WHOA HOA! I wasn’t expecting that! It looks like this is my turn to be on top. He didn’t give me a choice this time. I guess this is what Benedict means by being the dominant one._

“Lower yourself onto me,” Benedict instructed in a gruff voice. “I’ll last longer in this position.” 

“I’m all for you lasting as long as possible.”   _It benefits both of us._

Donna ran her fingers down Benedict’s heaving chest to his shaft and stroked his member until it felt rock hard, and he was thrusting his slim hips towards her. 

“Now, Donna! Before I lose my erection,” He growled impatiently. 

_Easy does it, Donna. You don’t want to risk bending him the wrong way._

Donna steadied one hand on his chest for support, feeling his heart pounding every bit as hard as hers was. She held the base of his swollen, throbbing cock as she carefully and slowly lowered herself onto him. Donna gasped at the full feeling of having him inside her once again. She looked at where they were joined and saw that his eyes were riveted to where he was buried inside her. Their eyes met, and she could see a flash of emotion in those darkened eyes that was quickly replaced by lust. 

_There is nothing like the feeling of a hot, tight, wet cunt around my dick. She needs to fuck me now. Christ, I love being able to watch her exposed like this._

“Ride me!” Benedict commanded in a hoarse voice, holding tightly onto her hips. 

_If Honey wants a ride, I’ll be happy to give him one_. 

Donna began moving up and down to build momentum. Benedict was watching her intently, his eyes hooded. Then he reached up to stroke her breasts and squeeze her nipples. Her head lolled back on her neck, as she closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on the sensations that were travelling through her body. 

“Ooooooo, Benedict…ooooo…..ooooo.” 

“Are you getting enough friction, Love?” 

_Here we go…the play-by-play commentary begins._

_I love how her breasts bounce up and down as she moves on me._

Donna nodded as she quickened her motions, intensifying her feelings. 

“Mmmmm…This _is_ a good position.” 

_Now, please be quiet and let me focus on myself.  
_

“Can you move a little faster, Donna Love?” 

_He’s not going to be quiet. I need to go with the flow. Faster you say, Benedict? I can do that. Faster it is._

Donna began to grind against his pelvic bone in order to stimulate her clitoris as she moved her hips in a circle, slowly at first, then faster. Benedict’s eyes locked with hers as his breathing became even more ragged, and she felt his fingertips pressing into her hips. Donna cried out from the deep waves of pure bliss that began to spread though out her pelvic area. 

_This is it…almost…almost…one more grind…oh yeah, baby…this is it!_

_FUCK. She’s climaxing…I can feel it! Well done me again.  
_

Benedict began to move his hips up in order to meet her now downward thrusts. He watched as her head lolled on her shoulders. His excitement was doubled as he watched her rub and squeeze her nipples, all the while gasping. Her eyes were tightly shut, and she began to groan loudly as the intense ripples of pleasure overcame her. His own impending orgasm was causing his own thrusts to become erratic as her muscles continued to spasm around him. 

_That muscle clenching is maddening…I can’t bear much more of this…OHHHHHHH! OHHHHH! FUCK, THIS IS HEAVEN!_

Finally, Benedict felt the euphoric release of his own climax engulf him as strong, pulsing sensations spread from the base of his penis throughout his groin, causing him to fall back against the pillows and ride it out, holding tightly onto Donna's hips. 

Donna caught her breath as she felt him emptying his seed inside her. Benedict’s head was thrown back against the pillow, eyes squeezed tightly shut, lips parted as he mumbled incoherently. He let go of her hips, and his hands tangled in the sheets as his taut body arched towards her. Soon, his movements stilled; and his breathing began to ease. Donna could feel him begin to soften inside her and carefully climbed off to lie beside him. 

“That was delightful,” he murmured. 

Donna tenderly kissed him and lightly stroked his lower abdomen and inner thighs, causing gentle orgasmic like sensations. His whole body shook involuntarily at the contact and a contented smile formed on his lips. 

“Does this feel good, Ben Honey?” 

_Does it feel good? Motherfucking hell, yes it does!_

“Mmmm….mmmmm…yeah…really good…yeah…like lovely little aftershocks….don’t stop.” 

Donna moved her hand and tentatively touched his penis. _He should be ready for this by now._

_Bloody hell! This does not feel good. She needs to stop this NOW._

Donna’s touch caused Benedict’s body to jerk and his eyes to pop open as he roughly pulled her hand away from his overly-sensitive member. 

“NO!” he barked. “That does _not_ feel good. That was like a fucking electrical shock!” 

“I’m so sorry. I was only trying to extend your pleasure.” 

_Cosmo strikes again, and they were wrong this time.  I need more time to recuperate._

Benedict bit his lip and shook his head. “And you did. I really enjoyed how you touched my belly and thighs like that. It felt extraordinary. Really it did. However, it was too soon to touch my penis. I need some more time to recover. I think I may have mentioned how ultra-sensitive I am after I come.” 

_Several times. I’ve told you several times now, Donna. Don’t touch my dick right after I come. It’s almost painful. I need to stop her from doing that, but I need to be diplomatic about it.  
_

_Shit. I only wanted to keep making him feel good. I must remember not to touch him until he gives me the all clear.  
_

“How about waiting ten minutes before you touch me again after I come? In the interim you are more than welcome to touch anything else of mine.” 

Donna nodded in agreement. “Okay. I promise to wait the next time. Is this going to adversely affect my tip?” 

_What tip?_

Benedict regarded her with a perplexed expression. 

_Oh. Yes. Of course. We were joking around yesterday.  
_

He began to laugh as he recalled their conversation. “Not at all! You are a brilliant lover, Donna. I couldn’t be more over-the-moon or satisfied.” 

Donna’s face lit up at his compliment. “Thank you.” 

“I meant every word, and I will be sure to show my appreciation properly tonight,” he said with a smug grin. 

“Does this mean you tip in sex?” 

“Yes it does. Satisfaction guaranteed.  You might even say lip-smackin' satisfaction,”  he teased, smacking his lips for emphasis.

Donna playfully punched his upper arm. 

“You’re awfully confident, you wiseass.” 

“You reinforce my confidence whenever you tell me that I’m making you feel good.” 

“Benedict, you have, without doubt, given me the best experiences I’ve ever had in bed. You are an amazing lover. Immensely skilled, considerate, kind, passionate, gentle, generous, tender and extremely loving.” 

“Is that all then?” he asked with a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. 

“Unfortunately, I just ran out of adjectives. Tell you what. If you were a boy scout, you would have more than earned your sex badge.”

“Oh, how my ego loves to be stroked, and stroked it you have. It’s at an all-time high right now.” 

“It should be. You earned the complement.” 

“Fancy a cuddle then?” 

Donna lay in his arms and turned to kiss him. She reached up and stroked his face. 

_She’s never said a word about my beard in the morning. Anna used to ask me to shave before kissing or cuddling. Oh, how Olivia used to wince. Hahaha! Donna doesn’t even so much as flinch when I rub against her._

“You don’t seem bothered by my morning stubble,” Benedict mused. “I’m sorry that it made your face a bit pinker than usual.” 

_That’s because I had lots of practice with Danny and his various renditions of facial hair…the beard, the stubble, the soul patch, the goatee._

“The irritation fades quickly. I think you look very sexy in the morning with your stubble. It’s also not that prickly.” 

“It must be the moisturizer I use in the morning and before bed.” 

“Wow! A man who isn’t ashamed to admit he takes care of his skin. You are just full of surprises, Benedict Cumberbatch; and your routine has certainly paid off.” 

“Skincare is part of the job,” declared Benedict. “An actor can’t have crap skin.” 

“I really should get to work now, but first I must have a shower.” 

Benedict raised his head to inspect himself. He sniffed and wrinkled his nose. “Yeah. You’re right. We’re both…sticky…and…” 

“Smelly.” 

“I wouldn’t call it smelly exactly,” observed Benedict, crinkling his nose. “I would call it…a heavy, musk-like scent with overtones of…oh, I don’t know…there’s a certain sour note, yet there’s another note I can’t put my finger on. I’m frankly baffled as to how to describe it.” 

“I’m not. It’s smelly. Now, let’s get in the shower and leave it at that, shall we?” giggled Donna. 

“Is that an invitation for me to join you?” asked Benedict with a raised eyebrow. 

“Yes, it is. I even promise to wash your back, and if you’re a good boy and return the favor, I will share my extra towels with you,” said Donna kissing him on the nose and getting out of bed.

Donna made sure to sway her hips as she walked away from the bed towards the bathroom.  She glanced in the mirror over the dresser to see Benedict ogling her bottom. 

_I love how her arse moves like that when she walks.  She has no idea what a tart I am for a woman's bum, especially one as lovely as hers._

Benedict stretched and yawned. “I’ll come only if you promise to wash _other_ parts of me as well.” 

Donna paused at the doorway to the bathroom and turned to face Benedict, who was gazing at her with a lascivious expression. She smiled and winked at him. 

“Not only do I promise to wash _all_ of your other parts; but I also guarantee that you’ll come in the process.” 

Benedict Cumberbatch bounded out of the bed and followed Donna Saint James into the bathroom with a predatory smile on his face. 

“Now, _that_ is an invitation I cannot refuse.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Will Benedict become a father by the end of the week? Anyone care to guess what the sex and stats will be?
> 
> 2\. Sorry about the extra long chapter, there was no practical place to cut it off. 
> 
> 3\. Penhaligon is the perfume store Benedict once worked at. In this universe they make up bespoke scents.
> 
> 4\. Antonia's text message and the resulting conversation is neither meant to throw shade, nor defend anything that is happening in Benedict's real life. This was all plotted almost two years ago as were the characters' personalities. Any similarities to his real life situations are purely coincidental. Readers will continue to notice this throughout the remainder of this story, unless I post otherwise. 
> 
> 5\. Yes, I felt I had to make those comments in #4 above in order to prevent misunderstandings and unnecessary flaming of myself or my work. IMHO there is way too much of it already running rampant in the BC fandom as is.


	90. Chapter 90

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part Six of the Cornwall Holiday: We are going to time jump here to the wee hours of Friday morning. Benedict’s holiday ends on an unpleasant note, while Donna finds herself trapped with Barrister Ben. 
> 
> Warning: Not for the weak of stomach or easily offended. This chapter deals with very graphic illness of the gross variety (not kidding here one bit), so please be forewarned and no flaming please if you do decide to read it.
> 
> Note: I’ll be using ******** to indicate things happening at the same time.

 

 

Donna Saint James opened her eyes and peered into total darkness.

_What the heck? Where in the hell is the clock? Did we lose power? No. I hear the hum of the a/c. I bet I know who the culprit is, and he’s peacefully sleeping right next to me._

Donna groped her hand along the nightstand until she felt the wash cloth that had been draped over the clock. She yanked it off and the soft green glow of the LED showed that it was two in the morning.

 _Benedict strikes again_ , Donna thought folding the washcloth _. I h_ a _te when my bladder wakes me up like this. That’s what I get for drinking all that water.  
_

She rolled over and sat up while her eyes adjusted to the pitch darkness of the room before attempting to get out of the bed. The light from the clock wasn’t much help.

_Oh, Benedict. Old habits die hard. Not only did he cover the clock; but he turned off the night light again in the bathroom. He did it last night, and I tripped and banged my toe on the dresser. Then he had the balls to pretend he didn’t know how the nightlight got unplugged. I can’t see a damn thing aside from what’s on my nightstand. If I turn on the lamp, I’ll wake him. I don’t know why I should care? He didn’t care if I had enough light to make my way to the bathroom._

After deliberating for another minute, Donna leaned over and defiantly switched on her lamp. She was surprised to find Benedict’s side of the bed empty and the door to the bathroom appeared to be shut.   She felt the sheets on his side of the bed. They were cool to her touch.

_Well, Donna, you worried for nothing. The man who never has to get up to pee at night apparently has. Hmmm…the sheets are no longer warm. I wonder how long he’s been in there. I really have to go and soon._

Donna swung her legs over the side of the bed, shoved her feet into her slippers and picked up her lacy royal blue chemise from the floor. She pulled it over her head and smoothed it over her body.

_It’s such a shame that all this expensive lingerie I bought spends more time off me than on me. Tomorrow night I’m pulling out all stops for our last night here, and I know he’s going to love it! It’s the most revealing thing I ever bought. I remember laughing when Carly said I could probably make do with just the hotel provided robe because Benedict would only care about seeing me without clothes. Ha ha ha! My sister was right. I don’t think Benedict cared what I wore as long as it came off easily.  
_

Donna retrieved her matching robe and draped it over the foot of the bed. She took the elastic band that she had left on the dresser and tied her hair up in a high ponytail. Then she immediately pulled it out and fluffed her hair about her shoulders. _  
_

_Oh, Donna, that’s not true. Benedict’s eyes almost popped out of his head every time you came out in one of these sexy ensembles. To be fair, he did lavish me with compliments as he removed them as quickly as he dared. I wonder what happened to my matching thong. Oh well, no loss. It was very uncomfortable. I felt like I had something stuck in my butt crack.  
_

Donna crossed the room and peeked out the window. All she could see was inky blackness. There were no stars and the moon was now hidden by clouds.

_Now, if we were in Disney and staying at the Animal Kingdom Lodge, I could look out the window and sometimes see the animals at night. Someday soon, I will make sure we vacation there. Maybe when the time comes we could spend our honeymoon at Walt Disney World. That would be so romantic. I know he would just love it, and it’s been a long time since he’s visited. There are so many new things I want to show him. Dare do I dream about a Disney wedding one day? The one thing I’ve sadly learned about my honey is that he doesn’t share the same enthusiasm for all things Disney that I do.  
_

Donna picked up Benedict’s silk pajamas and lay them on the foot of the bed. These were navy blue with tiny red polka dots. She could smell the light scent of his cologne on them.

_Someone must have been advising him on his male lingerie. Ha ha ha! He must have spent quite a bit on all these beautiful silk pajamas. He does look very sexy in them. I like how he foregoes the underwear so we can get down to business faster. I am glad we got to use the hot tub tonight and do some star gazing before the clouds rolled in. It was so romantic, and I’m so impressed that he could point out all the constellations to me. I bet he got an A in his astronomy course._

Donna cast an anxious glance towards the bathroom and let the heavy drapes fall back into place. She paced around the room.

_How long does it take him to pee? Maybe he had to do more. I just hope he remembers to leave the exhaust fan on afterwards. Tuesday morning was not pretty. I thought I would vomit for sure. This is one of the perils of sharing a hotel room with someone who forgets to leave the exhaust fan running.  
_

Donna flopped down on the loveseat and turned on the TV. There wasn’t much on that time of night that caught her interest. She channel surfed until she came upon an old rerun of “Next of Kin”.

_Grandpa Colin and I used to watch this on PBS Friday nights with Carly and Kenny. It was very funny. I wonder which episode this is…oh, yes, the one where they convert the garage into a spare room and have to give away their expensive stash of fine wines to their best friends._

Donna found her mind wandering as she tried to concentrate on the program. The week in Cornwall had been great fun. She and Benedict had quickly settled into a routine of sorts. They would wake up late and order breakfast in bed or dine alfresco on their balcony. Afterwards he would go for a run on the beach while Donna worked on her column. Late mornings were spent swimming, sailing or surfing. After a leisurely late lunch or afternoon tea, they would take a drive and wander the town of Saint Ives or explore one of the many gardens or other sights the area had to offer. Of course there had been lots of sex in between these activities. Neither Donna nor Benedict was able to keep their hands off each other, which delighted both of them. There had been intense make out sessions and oral sex aplenty, always ending in intercourse.

The nights began with cocktails in the hotel bar or out on their balcony, followed by the most delicious dinners, which were the highlight of Gastro Week. Donna was more than pleasantly surprised that there was nothing to criticize. The chef had ensured that each meal was carefully and flawlessly prepared. After moonlit walks on the beach or soaks in the hot tub, the couple would return to their room for sexy bubble baths, followed by slow dancing, chocolates and champagne, which always led to hot sex sessions. The sex had lasted well into the night, leaving both of them exhausted, yet completely satisfied and happy.

_This has been one of the best working vacations I’ve ever been on! I can’t wait for us to go away again. Too bad this all has to come to an end Sunday morning. Perhaps I’ll be able to talk Benedict into taking some time off to join me in New York in November after he films the Van Gogh movie. Maybe he can fly out for my birthday and stay for Thanksgiving. He can see how we celebrate one of the most important American holidays. On second thought, I shouldn’t say anything until I see how things go down when Mom and Dad visit._

Donna suddenly was pulled out of her reverie as she glimpsed two familiar faces on the TV screen.

_Holy cow! Its Wanda and Tim!   I didn’t realize they were in this show. What a handsome couple they make. What fun this is to see them acting together and playing husband and wife opposite each other. I never pictured them doing a sitcom, but they do have good comedic timing._

Donna turned up the volume a bit and watched the scene with intense interest.

_Wanda is such a beautiful woman, and she’s aged well so far. Granted, she’s put on some weight but her face is still so pretty. Wait until Grandpa Colin hears that I’m dating her son…if he hasn’t heard already. He was always such a huge fan of hers. 'His' Colonel Virginia Lake! Hahaha! Who would have guessed that years later, fate would have thrown his granddaughter and Wanda’s son together. Look at how hot Tim was. He still is. I hope Benedict takes after him when he gets older – still fairly trim and sporting a full head of hair._

Donna’s bladder not-so-subtlety reminded her that it needed to be emptied.

_Jeez Louise! He’s really been in there a long time. I wonder if he fell asleep on the toilet. He told me he did that once before. Let me check on him._

Donna crossed the room to the bathroom and tapped on the door. It was not shut after all and swung open to reveal an empty room. The room leading to the toilet was shut.

“Benedict? Is everything okay? I really have to use the bathroom. Are you going to be much longer?”

An awful odor assaulted her nostrils as she took another step inside.

_I smell vomit. That’s not a good sign. He must have gotten sick._

Donna’s eyes swept the room as she knocked a little harder on the door.

“Ben? Are you alright?” she asked in alarm.

“NO!” His anguished voice came from behind the door. “I’m so fucking sick.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

Donna’s eyes came to rest on the wastebasket beside the vanity. It was tipped over and readily apparent that Benedict had vomited in it.

_Okay. The source of the smell has been located._

“I mean do you know what made you so ill?”

“NO! These cramps are so bad, I feel like I’m going to pass out.”

_I can’t have him passing out in there. He can get hurt._

“Do you want me to come in?”

There was silence.

“Ben Honey?”

_Why isn’t he answering me? Should I go in? I know he doesn’t lock the door. I hope he isn’t lying on the floor! I can’t not know!_

“Benedict? Can you hear me? I’m coming in!”

“No!” he grunted. “Please don’t for fucks sake! Stay…ugh…Jesus this is bad…where you…ugh…are… I think…”

Suddenly, there came the sound of gas being expelled, followed by what sounded like violent diarrhea.

_Oh my God. What can I do for him? I can make him a cup of hot tea or maybe a cold compress for his forehead. I really have to go to the bathroom though. If I don’t, I’m going to wet myself._

“Benedict? Do you think you’re going to be in there long?”

“How the fuck do I know! OH…fuck!”

Donna grimaced as more of the same sounds could be heard through the door along with some grunting and groaning. She looked frantically around the bathroom, weighing her options.

_The wastebasket has already been claimed. What about the bidet? I could use that! No. I can’t do that to him. It’s in the same room as he is. I know I would be appalled if he were to do that to me, and I were the one who was sick. On second thought, he would have absolutely no qualms about doing that to me if the tables were turned._

“Bloody hell – this is awful,” he moaned.

“Ben?”

“Please leave me be! I’m dying in here for fucks sake!”

Once again, Donna heard the sounds of another bout of diarrhea. The pressure on her bladder got worse, signaling her that she needed to find a toilet post haste.

“Ben, I _really_ have to pee badly. I’ve been holding it, but I can’t last much longer.”

“I’d love nothing more than to help you out, _Sweetheart_ , but right now I’m stuck here emptying my bowels in case you haven’t heard. There is no way in hell I can get off this toilet.”

_Oh, that was the snippy version of Sweetheart. I can’t hurry him when he’s sick like this. Okay. I’ve got to relive myself. I’ll just go in there and not look. My only other option is to use the ice bucket, which is gross._

“Ben, I’m coming in. I’ll use the bidet, and I promise not to look at you. I’ll keep my eyes closed. I swear…”

“You can’t use the bidet for that!” he bellowed. “Trust me – you don’t want to come in here. I can barely stand the stench, and it’s my own shit. Why don’t you use the loo off the lobby?”

_Yikes. That was so obvious, why didn’t I think of that first._

“Excellent idea! I’ll throw on some clothes and be right back! I’ll take my cellphone, so call me if you need me.”

“That would prove to be a trick of the first order. My mobile’s in the bloody dresser.”

“There’s a phone on the wall next to the toilet.”

There was silence.

“Right you are as always. Off you go then.”

Donna turned to go when his voice stopped her.

“Donna?”

“Yeah?”

“Please hurry. I really don’t fancy being alone when I’m sick like this.”

 

 

 

Fifteen minutes later Donna let herself back inside the room. The lights were still on as well as the TV. The dresser drawer had been left open with some of Benedict’s underwear haphazardly hanging out of it as he had gone through it in a hurry. The door to the bathroom stood open, and she could hear water running. Donna went to investigate and found a disheveled-looking Benedict washing his face. The door to the toilet was shut, and she could hear the fan running. The wastebasket had been righted with what appeared to be a fresh liner inside.

_He must have used the ice bucket liner. I wonder what he did with the soiled one…I don’t see it. I think I’m better off not knowing. Wait. I bet he took it down the hall where the ice machine is and tossed it in the trash can. Too bad the room still smells like vomit. I need to do some cleaning up and disinfecting once he’s settled in bed._

Benedict looked up at her as he dried his haggard-looking face. He was wearing clean red and navy blue plaid boxer briefs and a navy blue t-shirt.

“Find the loo alright then?”

Donna nodded. “Yeah. You were right. Lucky for me they don’t lock it at night or I would have had to use one of their waste baskets. More importantly – how are _you_?”

“I feel like I’m going to keel over. I need a lie down,” he replied, brushing past her. “It’s so fucking cold in here!” he moaned, hugging himself.

_It’s not cold in here. I already adjusted the temperature when I realized he was sick. If he’d put on his pajamas, he wouldn’t feel as cold; but I suspect he grabbed whatever was in front of him. He’s definitely got chills. I’ll put the fireplace on for a bit.  
_

As Donna turned on the electric fireplace, Benedict flopped face down on the bed. He shivered involuntarily and she could hear his teeth chattering as he moaned something into the pillow. Donna drew the covers up over him, and made him a cup of hot tea. She placed the mug on, the nightstand and sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing small circles on his back in an attempt to comfort him.

“I made you some hot tea.”

Benedict mumbled what sounded like ‘thank you’.

“Tell me what else I can do for you?”

“Just let me die in peace.”

“That’s rather dramatic.”

“That’s how I feel.”

“Would you like me to call the front desk and see if they know of a local doctor on call?”

Benedict rolled onto his back and looked up at her, ice blue eyes filled with a combination of pain and alarm.

“Why? Do you think there is something seriously wrong with me? Do you think I may need to go to hospital or an A and E?”

 _Donna, you are so stupid sometimes. Now, he’s frightened and his anxiety level is going to go through the roof_. _Just like the time he had the ingrown toenail._

“Probably not…”

“ _Probably_? Why do you say _probably_. What exactly is that supposed…”

“You need to try and calm down, Benedict; and let me finish what I was about to say. I think it may be a stomach virus or something you ate that didn’t agree with you. How do you feel now?”

“The fucking cramps are coming back with a vengeance. Christ, they hurt like a bastard,” he hissed, sucking in his breath harshly and clutching at his abdomen. “I’ve never experienced anything quite like this.”

Donna reached out and felt his forehead. “You don’t seem to have a fever, but your skin feels a little clammy. Let me take your temperature.”

“What do you plan on taking it with? I don’t have a fever. I can tell because my eyes aren’t burning.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” scoffed Donna as she went to the dresser and rummaged around in a quilted bag. “Here we go - one thermometer!”

_Oh, Benedict, you’re such a clueless twat. Of course Donna would have a thermometer, bless her. Maybe she has something to stop these fucking cramps so I can stop shitting my brains out and get some sleep._

“Open your mouth, please,” instructed Donna briskly, shaking the thermometer and placing it in Benedict’s mouth under his tongue. “Just be quiet for a minute, so we can get an accurate reading. I’m going to start timing now,” she said, eyes focused on the bedside clock.

_Jesus. I don’t feel well at all. I can feel that ominous rumbling in my belly. I best head back to the loo. She can take my temperature all she wants later._

“Bjlt I flnnng no gdddd,” mumbled Benedict around the thermometer. He started to remove the thermometer from his mouth, but Donna shoved it back in.

“Please don’t take it out. Now, I have to start timing all over again,” she huffed impatiently. “It’s only a minute.”

_She’s not getting this. These motherfucking cramps are horrific._

“Bjlt I flnnng no gdddd, Dnnna!”

“Please stop complaining. I know it’s a pain in the ass, but this is the only way we’ll know for sure if you have a fever.”

_There goes that rumbling again. I have to use the bloody loo again! She needs to stop playing Florence Nightingale and let me up._

“Miuarlahe,” Benedict pointed to his stomach, which had started to gurgle alarmingly.

“Shhhhh…no talking,” said Donna, eyes fixed on the clock. “And keep it under your tongue.”

_For goodness sake! All he has to do is lay there quietly for 60 whole seconds. You would think I asked him to stay still for an hour!_

_That’s it! I feel like I’m going to explode. She needs to move now._

“I hqvey to usss the loo Dlljnnnn!” he frantically tapped her arm as the gurgling grew even louder.

_Why can’t this man keep still? He must have been such a handful when he was little, and now he’s grown up to be a squirmy adult._

“Oh, Benedict, really! Another ten seconds…”

_That’s it! She’s going to move if I have to bloody move her myself._

Benedict unceremoniously removed the thermometer from his mouth and flung it onto the bed. A wave of nausea suddenly swept over him, causing him to break out into a cold sweat.

“You really need to let me up _now_ , Donna, before I soil the mother fucking bed!” he bellowed throwing back the covers. “I feel like I’m going puke.”

“But I thought you had to…”

“It’s coming out of both ends!”

Donna moved aside quickly as he ran past her, into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. She regarded the discarded thermometer on the bed.

_I should have a reading. I’d better be careful in case he has a virus._

 She gingerly picked up the thermometer with a tissue and examined it as the sounds of another episode of diarrhea reached her ears.

 _He was right. No fever. That’s good,_ Donna thought with relief. _  
_

“DONNA!” Benedict cried. “Quick as you can! I need the wastebin! I’m going to…”

Donna heard sounds of violent retching coming from the toilet. She picked up the wastebasket and ran to open the door.

“Never mind,” Benedict said in a low voice.

“Did you…”

“Yeah. There’s puke all over the fucking floor and myself. I think you’re going to have to call housekeeping up here to clean this muck up. The room is unusable as is. Maybe they can send up some more loo rolls while they’re at it. I must shower as soon as I’m done, and I’m going to need something to put my soiled pants and t-shirt in. Could I trouble you to get me something clean to sleep in…if I can sleep after this.” _  
_

 

Twenty minutes later Benedict emerged from the bathroom, looking pale and drawn. He had showered and put on the clean pants and pajamas that Donna had left on the vanity along with a plastic bag and some extra rolls of toilet tissue.

“How are you feeling now?”

“Like someone is repeatedly stabbing my intestines with a knife, my arsehole burns like someone stuck a hot poker up it, I’ve got chills alternating with cold sweats and I’m nauseous as fuck. Aside from that, jolly good.”

“Why don’t you get back in bed and I’ll see about getting a doctor to check you over,” said Donna with a slight frown. _  
_

Benedict obediently climbed into the bed and curled up in a fetal position, facing the fireplace.

“The last thing I want is to have to leave this bed,” he groaned loudly.

“I’m going to call down to the front desk and see if they know of a local doctor on call.”

“No. Absolutely not!”

“Why not? It will give us both peace of mind to know what’s wrong.”

There was silence from the bed.

_I sense he’s got other ideas._

“Do you think you could ring my mum?” he asked in a small, meek voice. “She always knows what to do when things like this happen.”

_And there it is. He wants his mother. Why did I think he was different? I shouldn’t be surprised. They always think their mommies can make everything better. Danny was the same way. He always wanted his mom’s opinion whenever he got sick. Well, he doesn’t need to bother Wanda. I know how to deal with sickness.  
_

“May I remind you that I actually took a first aid course…”

Benedict waved his hand dismissively. “Yeah, yeah. I know. You took that course in order to earn your bloody Girl Scout badge when you were all of ten.”

“It’s three in the morning, and I was twelve. Do you _really_ want me to wake your parents?”

_Oh, Benedict. You’ve managed to offend her. I really want to run this past Mum. Donna’s trying to make me feel guilty about calling. Perhaps she’s right. What if I’m really, seriously ill though?_

There was silence.

_Good. He’s thinking it over. He knows he shouldn’t bother them with this. What in the hell can they do from London anyway._

“Yes.”

Benedict watched as Donna went to the desk and picked up her mobile. She began to scroll through her contacts.

_How interesting. She’s using her mobile to ring Mum. I’ve got you now, Donna._

“Why aren’t you using my mobile to ring my mother?”

Donna’s face wore an expression of panic as her hazel eyes darted to meet his. She felt the hairs prickle on the back of her neck.

_SHIT! I automatically went for my phone when I should have gone for his. Maybe he can’t tell from across the room. Our phones are both black and similar models._

“I _am_ using your phone.”

“I beg to differ. Mine has a Union Jack heart decal on the back...”

_I’m fucked. Damn the day he found that decal._

“…and I’ve been storing it in the top dresser drawer since we got here. We agreed no calls unless there was an emergency, remember?”

_Make that double fucked. And this doesn’t constitute an emergency.  
_

Donna looked at the phone in her hand and laughed nervously while fingering her ponytail.

“And right you are! They both look the same to me. Hahaha!”

“Even if I had left my mobile on the desk, I would think that decal would be hard to miss. That’s why I got it in the first place, so we could tell our mobiles apart easily. Not to mention when you turn mine on, the background photo is of us. Your background photo is of me alone.”

_This is like a nightmare. Illness does not deter Barrister Ben in the slightest, bless his little heart. Wait until Wanda hears this, though on second thought, I bet it wouldn’t surprise her at all.  
_

_Hmmm…let’s see if she takes the bait. The logical thing would be for her to fetch my mobile from the dresser now._

“It’s okay, Love. I’m sure Mum will recognize your number.”

Donna began to hit the call button and suddenly stopped herself. Benedict was watching her with intense interest as he sipped from the mug of hot tea.

_HE KNOWS WANDA’S NUMBER IS IN MY CONTACTS. HE FOUND IT THAT MORNING WHEN HE WENT THOUGH MY MESSAGES.  
_

“You know what? On second thought, don’t call her. You’re right. It’s too late to be a bother. I don’t want to worry them unnecessarily.”

Donna signed inwardly with relief. _I’m safe for the time being.  
_

“I didn’t realize you and Mum had exchanged mobile numbers. When did that happen?”

_I’m not safe. I’m delusional. He’s not giving up so easily. I wish he had to go take a shit now. I don’t want to lie. Channel your inner irritation, Donna.  
_

Donna glared at Benedict. “For God’s sake, Benedict! You’re telling me how you’re just about at death’s door, yet here you lie, quizzing me about how I got your mom’s cell number. How in the hell do you think I got it? Osmosis? She gave it to me so we can keep in touch!”

_Well she done told me, but that’s not good enough.  
_

“When did this happen?” _  
_

_Oh, fuck me to hell and back. This man does not give up. Let me continue with the defensive.  
_

“What does it matter in the grand scheme of things? I would think you would be happy that your mother wants us to be friends, don’t you?” snapped Donna, raising her voice haughtily.

“Erm…yes, of course I do. I’m over-the-moon that you two hit it off so well, but…”

“Good. As you like to say: I’m glad that’s been sorted to your satisfaction,” said Donna breezily, cutting him off.

_No, it hasn’t been sorted to my bloody satisfaction, Donna. We’re not sorted yet._

Benedict began to open his mouth to protest and quickly shut it as his stomach began to spasm painfully. He grimaced and hastily placed the now empty mug on the nightstand.

“This is awful. I’ve never felt so sick in my life,” he gasped.

Donna poured a glass of water and brought it to him. “Here. Drink this.”

“I’m not thirsty. I just had the… tea.”

_That certainly wasn’t tea by any stretch of the imagination. That was the equivalent of drinking sweet, hot water. Ugh! Donna just doesn’t understand that the tea bag should be allowed to steep for three minutes. She still dunks it up and down a few times and voila: hot, brown water that faintly tastes like tea.  It's obvious that the lesson I gave her in Alice's kitchen was wasted on her.  I’ve got to give her another lesson in using tea bags properly._

“You need to replace all the fluids you’ve lost. If you get dehydrated, you’ll wind up in the hospital for sure.”

Benedict grudgingly raised himself up on an elbow and drank the water. He lay back down, closed his eyes and sighed deeply.

“I wonder what’s causing me to feel so poorly.”

“I have a feeling it was something you ate.”

“But we ate exactly the same things all day long!” retorted Benedict. “We both had the blueberry pancakes and Eggs Florentine for breakfast. The orange and strawberry compote tasted fine as well as the pain au chocolat.”

“Had the breakfast food been tainted, I’d be sick, too,” pointed out Donna.

“We ate the same things when we stopped at that seafood shanty on the dock for lunch…”

“Whoa hoa here!” exclaimed Donna. “That’s it! We didn’t eat the same things for lunch!”

Benedict regarded her with a frown as a wave of nausea swept over him and his stomach gurgled. “Yes, we did,” he insisted. “We shared the fish and chips and oysters.”

“I didn’t eat the oysters. You ate and reviewed them because I’m not a huge fan of raw oysters. I had the peel and eat shrimp, which was freshly caught.” _  
_

“As were the oysters; however, now that I think about it, one of them did taste the tiniest bit…funky; but I thought it was just me.”

Donna rolled her eyes. “You should _never_ swallow raw seafood that tastes even a little off. What you probably have is a nasty case of food poisoning.”

“Shit.”

“I hope not. It’s my turn to use the bathroom.”

“Do you mind handing me my mobile? I think I’ll ring up Mark. He’s my doctor, and he knows my health history.”

“You’re going to wake your friend, so you can ask him to diagnose you without seeing you.”

Benedict considered her words. “He’s done it before. One time when Olivia and I had gone away skiing, I came down with bronchitis. She rang him up, and he was fine with it.”

Donna rolled her eyes and tossed him his phone. “Whatever you think is best, Ben. I’m not going to argue with you.”

“Fuck me!”

“Now? I thought you were sick, you insatiable man!”

“Don’t be so damn cheeky,” snapped Benedict. “Oh crumpets! Is that better?” he sneered, side-eyeing her. “I just remembered. He and Juliette are away on a Mediterranean cruise for the week. I can’t reach him.”

“Why don’t you try and get some sleep. I won’t be long,” said Donna.

“WAIT!!! I think I’m going to be sick again. I feel so nauseous!” Benedict made an awful retching noise as he bounded out of the bed and ran for the bathroom.

 _This isn’t good. I really think we need to call a doctor at this point. Wait. I know who I can call! Steven! He’s a doctor. I wonder if he would be angry about being asked to do an over-the-phone-diagnosis. I doubt it. He’s used to getting calls in the middle of the night. The worst thing that can happen is that he tells me to take Ben to a local ER for treatment._  

 

 

 

The next morning dawned dark, dreary and rainy. Donna Saint James awoke to the sound of Benedict groaning in his sleep as he tossed and turned. The bedside clock showed it was ten; but Donna felt as if it were still the wee hours of the morning. Her eyes burned from staying up to make sure Benedict was alright and to keep him company. He had been wracked with continuous cramping along with alternating bouts of vomiting and diarrhea.

After some half-hearted protests, Benedict had relented and allowed Donna to call her brother-in-law in London. Steven had not been angered in the slightest as he had just returned home after assisting in an emergency surgery. He had been very concerned and listened patiently as Benedict described his symptoms in vivid detail. Finally, Steven had agreed with Donna’s assessment that Benedict had a severe case of food poisoning that would have to run its course in the next few days and strongly suggested that the may wish to extend their stay until Benedict was feeling better. He had given them both some instructions and invited them to call him at any time if things got worse.

Donna did her best to Benedict as comfortable as possible. She had made sure he had plenty of water to drink and enough blankets to fend off the chills.  A couple of times the chills had been so violent she had held him tightly in a spoon position so he could absorb her body heat.  When he suffered cold sweats, she placed cool compresses on his forehead and made sure he had dry t-shirts to change into. Benedict had ferried back and forth to the bathroom for the remainder of the night and finally dropped off into a fitful sleep around five in the morning. Donna had tried to get some sleep but soon found herself wide awake in spite of being exhausted.

_Thank God he was finally able to get some rest! My poor honey. Food poisoning sure can wipe you out. I know from personal experience. I really wish I could fall back to sleep; but I have a breakfast to review before they switch over to the lunch menu._

Donna reluctantly climbed out of bed and perused the room service menu while yawning.

 _Looks like I’m on my own for the remainder of the trip. I’ll still have to order up enough for two so I can do my tasting. That citrus-smoked salmon omelet with caviar and dilled crème fraiche sounds good. It comes with oven-roasted marble potatoes and choice of bread. I think I’ll have one of the house-made pain au sucre. That apple pie crème brulee oatmeal sure sounds intriguing. I know what the juice tastes like, so I’ll try the cinnamon-stewed fruit._   

Donna rounded out her order with two pots of English breakfast tea – one regular and one decaf and an order of dry, white toast in case Benedict felt hungry when he woke up.   She booted up her laptop and checked her messages while she waited for breakfast to be delivered.

_They said breakfast would be forty-five minutes. I’ve got plenty of time to take a quick shower.  
_

 

*************************************************

Benedict Cumberbatch awoke to the sound of someone knocking insistently on the hotel room door. He turned over onto his stomach and pulled the pillow over his head.

_Bloody hell! Who in the fuck has the bollocks to ignore a ‘do not disturb’ sign? There is no way anyone is coming in here to clean up now.  
_

“Donna! There’s somebody at the door. Could you please tell them to disappear until we put up the bloody ‘service room’ sign?”

The knocking persisted and there was no perceptible movement from Donna’s side of the bed. Benedict peeked out from under the pillow to see it was empty.

_Where is she? Did she go down to breakfast without me? I so don’t fancy getting out of this bed right now. It’s so nice and warm.  
_

The knocked ceased, causing Benedict to sigh and fluff up his pillow as he settled onto his side.

_She left the fireplace on so I would be warm. No wonder it’s so toasty in there. Ahhhh!_

The knocking started up again. “Hello!” called a masculine voice. “Room service!”

_I didn’t order room service, but I have a sneaking suspicion I know who may have. Donna must have ordered up breakfast so she can work on her column._

Benedict angrily threw the pillow on the floor in frustration and rolled out of bed. He felt weak and swayed unsteadily on his feet for a couple of moments.

“Donna?”

The bathroom door was shut, and he could hear the sound of the shower running.

“Just a minute!” he growled, grabbing his robe and going to peer out the peep hole in the door. It was the young man who usually delivered their room service breakfasts. He had a cart with him and was getting ready to knock again.

“Hello! Room service! Is anyone in here?”

“Yeah. Be right there,” snarled Benedict, unlocking and opening the door.

 

_****************************************************_

 

Donna finished drying herself off and wrapped her wet hair in a towel turban. She began to apply the hotel-supplied, coconut-almond scented body lotion as she pondered her options for the day.

_Hmmm…it’s supposed to rain all day. I wonder what we can do to amuse ourselves. If Benedict wasn’t so sick, I know what we’d be doing; but I doubt love will be on his mind today. I guess we can watch on-demand movies and do some reading. If Benedict wants to sleep, I could go downstairs and take the tour of the kitchen that they offer at two-thirty. Steven said he probably won’t be feeling better for several days. I’ll go down to the front desk and see about extending our stay for a couple of days. If I could drive a damn stick shift, we probably could have left sooner. Ben is right. I really should learn if I’m going to wind up living here on a permanent basis.  
_

As soon as the lotion was absorbed, Donna applied antiperspirant and dressed in a clean bra and matching panties. The flimsy, undergarments were white with a delicate lacy floral pattern.

_Such a pity Benedict probably won’t be able to appreciate this set. It’s so pretty and makes me feel so sexy. Why did I save all the really revealing things for the end of the trip? Who knew he was going to get sick?  
_

Donna spread out her makeup supplies on the vanity and began to dry her hair.

_Carly is fuming about Mom and Dad wanting to stay with her instead of getting a hotel room. She does have the extra bedroom in her apartment that Steve uses as a study/home office. My first priority is going to be setting boundaries for them as to what is and isn’t acceptable when getting together with Benedict and his parents. Kenny hasn’t sent me the photo of that letter yet, but I really don’t think I need to see it._

Donna didn’t hear the room service cart being wheeled in the room, nor did she hear Benedict’s deep baritone voice as he conversed with the young man about the weather. She bent over at the waist and dried the underside of her hair, flipping it back over just in time to see Benedict push open the door and venture into the bathroom.

“Good morning,” he said, smiling weakly at her. His hair was sleep-tousled and his eyes had deep, dark circles under them.

“Is it a good morning for you?”

“So far, so good. The guy from room service just delivered your breakfast.”

“Great! I’m starving.”

“I wish I could say the same,” sighed Benedict.

“There’s some dry toast and hot tea in case you felt like a little something.”

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck and grimaced. “Thank you, but I don’t even want to think about food right now. I’m terrified if I eat, everything will start up all over again.”

“You look awful.”

“You would, too, if you spent most of the night in the loo shitting and puking your brains out.”

Donna put down the hairdryer and hugged him. “My poor, Benedict. What can I do for you?” She stood on her tiptoes and gave him a peck on the cheek.

“Erm…you can get out of my way. I think I’m going to be sick again!” he exclaimed, quickly extracting himself from her embrace and dashing into the toilet room.

 

 

Benedict emerged from the bathroom to find the drapes had been opened to reveal the overcast, rainy weather the waiter had told him about. The sea was choppy with white foamy caps on the waves as they crested to crash against the deserted beach. Donna was sitting on the loveseat, wearing a long white lace dressing gown with all the breakfast dishes spread out on the coffee table before her. She was chewing thoughtfully and busy making notes on her pad.

“Is there room for me to sit,” he asked, crossing the room to stand before her.

“Of course!” smiled Donna, moving her plate from the love seat cushion to her lap. She gestured that Benedict should sit beside her. “Feeling any better?”

Benedict shrugged and helped himself to a glass of water. “Now, I am. We’ll just have to wait and see how long it lasts. Thank God the nausea seems to be subsiding somewhat.”

“I got some more Coke just in case,” she said, indicating a glass filled with flat-looking soda. “Steve said to make sure there is no carbonation left in it and that it’s room temperature. We didn’t have time to wait last night, so I was proactive and opened the other can after you feel asleep, so it should be ready to drink if you need it. There’s another can on top of the fridge.”

“I appreciate all that you’ve done for me,” began Benedict, taking her hand and kissing it. “You took extraordinary care of me last night.”

“You would have done the same for me.”

“True. True,” nodded Benedict as he sipped the water. "By the way, that cream you had worked wonders on my bum.  Its not quite as sore."

“Do you think you can manage some toast and tea?”

Benedict shook his head. “Mmmm…not yet. Steven suggested sticking to liquids for today to give my stomach a chance to recover. So what are you reviewing today?”

“I started off with the cinnamon-stewed fruit, which was perfect. The plums and apricots weren’t at all soggy. They retained some of their original firmness, which is important. I was worried they were going to be mushy,” she laughed. “But I worried for nothing. The Sous Chef has proven to be every bit as competent as the Executive Chef who prepares the dinners.”

Donna then indicated the plate on her lap. “Citrus-smoked salmon omelet topped with dilled crème fraiche and red and black caviar. It is excellent. The omelet is nice and fluffy and the smoked salmon is heavenly…it has a nice, silky texture and you can clearly taste the orange, lemon and lime.”

“Normally, that would be right up my street; but not today.”

Donna rose to put the plate on the coffee table. The robe parted to reveal her bra and panties as she leaned over to survey the other dishes. “I think I’ll try the oatmeal next.”

“How can you look so utterly lovely after only a few hours sleep?” Benedict asked, eyes roaming over her body.

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Mr. Cumberbatch,” giggled Donna, feeling the color rise on her cheeks.

“Can you…erm…open the robe a bit more so I can get a better look at your bra and knickers?  You really should indulge me being I'm sick,” he said, sticking out his lower lip in a mock pout.

_How about that? He’s sick, yet he’s noticed my bra and panties._

Donna unbuttoned and removed her robe and struck a model-like pose as Benedict eyed her up and down appreciatively. “You look so fucking sexy. If I weren’t so sick, I’d take you right here on this couch.”

“And I’d let you, too,” she replied longingly as she put the robe back on and picked up the oatmeal and a spoon. “This is described as apple pie oatmeal with bruleed crust.”

“Now, that looks and smells decadent,” he commented.

“I find it interesting how sweets always manage to tempt you.”

“I told you that I’m a tart for _anything_ sweet…especially _you_ ,” Benedict said with a wink.

_Illness does not seem to affect his romantic come on lines in the slightest.  
_

Donna tapped the top with her spoon. “We’re off to a good start. Did you hear that? The bruleed crust is properly crackly and crisp.”

Benedict watched enviously as she took a bite.

_Part of me really wishes I could take a chance and have some of that, but I know that I’d soon regret it._

“Wow, Ben! I wish you could taste this…mmmm…it is just like apple pie filling! It’s got cranberries and walnuts inside for texture and flavor contrast. The cranberries add just the right amount of tartness, so the brown sugar isn’t cloying. I also taste a hint of orange zest in the oatmeal crust.”

Benedict moved closer to Donna and reached out to finger her breast through the lace of her bra while she made notes about the oatmeal. He grazed the tip of his index finger over her nipple, causing her to drop the pen in the bowl of cereal. She paused to study his face closely.

_Is he actually making a pass?_

“I thought you were sick.”

“Not _all_ of me is.”

“I bet I can guess which parts haven’t been affected,” Donna mused, looking pointedly at his crotch.

Benedict shook his head. “It’s not what you think, Darling. My brain tells me that I should take advantage of the moment and carry you off to bed where I can ravish you properly. However, my stomach has other ideas. If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got business to attend to.”

And with that he was once again off to the bathroom.   Donna fished the pen out of the oatmeal, wiped it off on the napkin and finished making her notes on the breakfast. She set the toast and pot of tea for Benedict aside, folded the used napkins, stacked the dishes and silverware back onto the cart and wheeled it out into the hallway.

_I should get some more toilet tissue, clean towels, waste basket liners and a set of clean sheets from housekeeping. At least I can change the bed and swap out the towels so he’ll feel more comfortable. I can’t ask them to service the room with Benedict being ill. I’ll pretend I’m staying at a Disney Vacation Club property.  
_

As soon as Donna finished speaking with housekeeping, her mobile began to ring as she cradled the house phone.

_I wonder who that can be. I hope it’s not my editor saying I need to try more drinks or maybe its Mom checking to see if I’m back yet.  
_

The caller ID showed that it was Carly. Donna looked towards the bathroom and hesitated.

_We promised we wouldn’t take any personal calls while we were here so we could enjoy each others company. I wonder if it still applies being Ben’s so sick. I’d love to talk to Carly for a few minutes._

Donna pressed the answer button. “Hello Curly Carly! Greetings from soggy Cornwall,” she said in a low voice.

“Greetings back at ya’ from equally soggy London,” Carly laughed. “Steve wanted to check on Benedict, and I wanted to say hi. I’m going to put you on speaker phone; so we can both hear you.”

“Morning, Donna. How’s Ben doing?” inquired Steven in a sleepy-sounding voice.

“Well, we were up most of the night between chills, cold sweats and what seemed like endless trips to the bathroom. He finally got to sleep around five, but he was very restless.”

“Can I talk to him?”

“Nope. He’s in the bathroom. Unfortunately, things started up again.”

“That’s normal with food poisoning; but the good news is that these bouts will gradually taper off. As I said to him last night, this may take a few days to run its course. Just make sure to keep him drinking and give him the flat Coke if he feels nauseous. If he feels hungry, have him try crackers or toast, some plain rice, a banana. The key is to keep him hydrated.”

“Thanks for the advice, Steve. We owe you one.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Treating my family is the least I can do. Let me know if he suddenly gets worse or develops a fever. Carly wants to talk with you again, so I’m going to take you off the speaker. See you soon.”

_I like that he thinks of Benedict as family now. They really seem to hit it off._

“Thanks, Steve.”

“So, aside from the attack of food poisoning, how is everything _else_ going?” asked Carly with a giggle.

“It was the most perfect, romantic week ever. Things could not have gone better. He’s an amazing lover, Carly. Everything I hoped he’d be and more. I had no idea what I was missing all this time. It makes me realize just what inadequate ass holes the others were in bed. I’ll tell you all about it when I get home.”

“Speaking of when you get home, just a reminder that Mom and Dad will be arriving Friday morning the fourth. They’re taking that overnight flight from JFK that gets them to Heathrow at six-thirty. We don’t have to pick them up. They said they’ll take the Heathrow Express and a cab from Paddington Station to here.”

“That’s a good idea. At least they won’t get caught up in the morning traffic heading into London. They’ll probably arrive around nine. Did they finally decide on how long they’ll be gracing us with their presence?”

“Yep, and we have truly hit the jackpot this time. Being Labor Day falls on the following Monday, they’ve decided to stay the whole week.”

“Lucky us.”

“This is your fault, Donna. If you hadn’t mentioned Benedict, then they wouldn’t be coming.”

“Excuse me, Carla; but you were the one who told me to tell them that I was in a relationship because you were tired of avoiding them.”

“That was before they announced they were staying with Steve and me for a week.”

“I thought you were going to suggest a hotel.”

“You try suggesting a hotel to Mom once her minds made up.”

“Why aren’t they staying with Uncle Rod and Aunt Bea?”

“Because they want to stay close to us.”

“There are plenty of hotels close by they could stay at.”

“For whatever reason, they decided they want to stay at the Cipriano Inn this time around.   By the way, I was talking to Kenny, and he said to tell you that he wasn’t able to take a snapshot of Dad’s favorite nasty fan letter but if it helps – and you’re not going to love this – he confirmed our suspicions that the author is none other than…”

“Wanda Ventham,” finished Donna.

“Yep. Wanda, who by the way came into Carldonn the other morning to get muffins to eat at Paul’s tables, which I find both ballsy and hilarious at the same time. What tipped you off in the first place?” asked Carly.

“Just call it intuition of the worst kind,” sighed Donna.

“Steve wants to know what gives with Wanda and Dad. Shall I fill him in?”

“Sure. Feel free to explain it all to him, except the parts you need to leave out – like the ad. Remember, the less people who know about this, the better. Look, I have to go. I’ll come down as soon as I get home and unpack. Love you guys!”

Donna shut off her phone and sighed deeply.

“Who were you talking about Mum to?”

Donna whirled around to find Benedict standing in the bathroom doorway with his arms folded as he regarded her with a raised eyebrow.

_This is not my morning. Shit! I wonder how much of the conversation he heard. I might as well get it over with.  
_

“That was Carly and Steve. Steve wanted to see how you were doing.”

“Who is Carly going to fill in and what about? Sounds like someone has a big secret that needs to be kept,” mused Benedict, eyes boring into Donna.

_I can stop wondering. He heard enough to rouse his curiosity. Barrister Ben rears his handsome head. Let me put a damper on this pronto so Mr. Nosy stops interrogating me.  
_

“We’re planning a surprise sixtieth anniversary party for my Nona and Popi in November. Sometimes Steven slips, so Carly is just going to tell him what he needs to know for now.”

“Wow! Sixty years is a long time to be married! Are they still happy?”

“Oh yes! They are just adorable together.”

“When is this party?”

“Um…in November. When we go home for Thanksgiving.”

“What a brilliant idea to hold a party to celebrate such a milestone. Can I be privy to the details too? It’s not as if I’m going to leak any information. I don’t even know them.”

 _Jesus. This isn’t working very well. Let me quickly change the subject to something he won’t want to pursue_.

“Then Carly reminded me about our parents visit.”

_Donna looks less than thrilled with the prospect, and I can’t honestly say that I blame her._

“What day do they arrive again? My brain is foggy.”

_Bullshit, Barrister Ben. You may be sick, but your brain is working just fine._

“The Neil and Toni Show land on September fourth at six thirty in the morning. They always take the overnight flight that gets them in as early as possible. It gives them the whole day to torment. This gives us a little less than two weeks to prepare.”

“You can’t get one any earlier than half six,” quipped Benedict. “I suppose we’ll have to set up a dinner for Saturday night so they can get to know me better. I’m sure it won’t be as bad as you fear, Darling. There will be more time to talk.” _  
_

_Oh, you dear, unsuspecting man. You’re going to spend the whole night answering questions. They are going to grill you like a steak at that dinner. You will think that you are the main course – and you will be._

“Then we’ll introduce them to my parents on Sunday. Taking them out to afternoon tea at the Orangery might be nice…unless they have to go back to the States for work Monday.”

“No such luck. It’s Labor Day weekend back home, so they will stay the week. There will be multiple opportunities for us to all get together. They will fly back the following Friday morning so they have the weekend to recover from jet lag and get back into their routines.”

“And what was that you were saying about my mother?”

_Okay. He definitely heard that part. No lying on this one. I’m sure the letter won’t come as a surprise to him. He has to know about it…and if he doesn’t, well…c’est la vie. It’s time he finds out. Here goes._

“I had asked my brother, Kenny, to send me a snapshot of my father’s favorite nasty fan letter.”

Benedict stood there, looking pensive, as he decided what to say.

_Oh, I bet she knows all about Mum’s letter. I guess I’ll see if she elaborates further before I say anything._

_Why isn’t he saying anything??? This is making me nuts._

“Benedict, let me explain about this letter…”

_She looks uncomfortable as hell. I’ll put her mind at ease…if you can call it that._

“There’s no need,” said Benedict, holding up an index finger. “Allow me to save you the explanation. I know all about the letter Mum wrote your father regarding that awful review he gave me. As a matter of fact, I had just reread it the day you came to Kensington for Sunday lunch.”

“So you have a copy of Wanda’s letter?”

“Actually, Mum’s the one who kept a copy all this time. It’s in a scrapbook where she has my less-than-stellar reviews,” he replied, rubbing the back of his neck.

“That’s the book you almost caught me looking in that afternoon. I had just found my dad’s reviews when you walked in on me.”

“Erm…I did catch you, and Mum’s letter was on the next page.”

“It remains Dad’s favorite fan letter of all time. He’s got it framed on his office wall, if you can believe it.”

_Of course I can believe! The right bastard probably gets off on showing it to visitors._

“Oh, I believe it,” sneered Benedict. “I recall Dad went utterly ballistic when he found out Mum wrote to your father in the first place. I was horrified at the time as I felt she was trying to fight my battles for me like when I was a small.”

Donna nodded. “I can understand that. To be honest, I’m dreading putting them together, Benedict. I really am.”

“As am I,” agreed Benedict picking up the flat Coke and taking a sip. “Christ, I feel like I’m going to upchuck again. I don’t understand how there can be anything left inside me at this point. I feel utterly spent.”

“You really look exhausted, Ben. Why don’t you lie down? I'll be happy to lie down with you."

_I'll never be able to sleep with her lying next to me in that outfit. My hands will want to roam. I really do need to rest.  
_

Benedict nodded and got back into the bed. “I’m beyond knackered at this point. I’m going to try and get some sleep. There’s no need for you to hang around the room all day.”

“Why not? I can keep you company. We can watch movies and talk...”

“Donna, I will most likely be sleeping and using the loo all day. There’s a kitchen tour this afternoon that you should go to. The one we discussed when we first arrived. We thought it sounded like a good rainy day activity, and today certainly qualifies as a rainy day.”

“I’d much rather spend the time with you. Actually, I was thinking of skipping the last Gastro dinner and eating something up here.”

“I won’t hear of it! Attending that dinner is part of your job, as well as reviewing a lunch and cocktails. As for the rest of the day, I’m going to just laze around here and try to get some more sleep. There’s plenty to keep me from getting bored. I’ve got the telly and plenty of books to read. You were looking forward to taking the kitchen tour, so I think you should do it. And as far as the dinner goes, I insist you go downstairs as if nothing’s happened. Tonight is the penultimate dinner of the Gastro Holiday Package, and you must be there. Please don’t worry about me. As long as I have unlimited access to the loo, I’ll be fine.”

“If you’re absolutely sure.”

“I’m sure.”

”I’m going to have a talk with my parents when they get here.”

“I plan on doing the same. I plan to drop in on Mum and Dad one night and let them know what’s going on rather than ringing them up with the news. Some things need to be done in person.”

“We can talk more about it later.”

_I’ve got the whole day to mull it over. I detest being sick._

Donna sat on the edge of the bed and tucked the covers snugly around Benedict. She planted a gentle kiss on his forehead and then moved down to kiss him lightly on the lips. He closed his eyes, smiled and sighed contentedly.

“Thank you again for taking such brilliant care of me, Donna. You make me feel very loved.”

“That’s because you are loved. More than I can express sometimes. Now, I’m going to finish getting dressed. I’ll be in the bathroom if you need me.”

“By the way, you didn’t have to clean the entire bathroom, Donna. All you had to do was call housekeeping, and they would have sent up someone to take care of it.”

_He noticed! This man misses nothing, bless his heart._

“Oh no! I wouldn’t have had the heart to ask anyone to clean up after someone who’s been as sick as you were. Besides it really wasn’t a big deal, Benedict. I just mopped up the mess with the used towels and put them in a large garbage bag and knotted it closed. You can’t smell anything.”

He opened his eyes and regarded with a sad expression. “I feel awful that you had to touch my…”

Donna held up her hand. “There’s nothing to worry about. I had a pair of disposable gloves tucked away in my travel bag just in case.”

“I suppose you also had a large garbage bag tucked away just in case one of us became ill,” he snickered.

“No, I always bring one along to store my dirty laundry in. I also called housekeeping to bring us some fresh linens and supplies to swap out. I’m also going to do down to the front desk and see about staying a couple of extra days.”

_Of course she did, bless her. Garbage bags, disposable gloves, thermometer, AnuSol cream. Donna thinks of everything and then some. I should be more like her._

 

**************************************************

 

Carly Cipriano hung up the landline and sat on the bed beside her husband, who was finishing up his breakfast of buttermilk pancakes, honey-roasted ham and coffee. She took the next several minutes to fill him in on the significance of the letter Donna had asked Kenny to take a photo of. As usual, Steve took it in his stride and did not offer comment.

“Do you think Benedict will be alright, Steve?”

“Yeah. He’ll recover in plenty of time to meet the Neil and Toni Show in person,” chuckled Steven. “God, help him. He’ll probably wish he were still sick.”

Carly poked Steven in the ribs. “Don’t be such a wise ass!”

“If I could survive the first meeting and live to tell the tale, so will he.”

“It’s not Benedict I’m worried about,” said Carly. “I’m worried about what’s going to happen when Mom and Dad come face-to-face with Wanda and Tim. The possibilities for a nasty confrontation are endless.”

“There’s no need to worry, Babe.”

“How can you sit there and be so blasé about it? You know the story. The potential for a blow up is high.”

“I’m not blasé. I’m just being a realist. Your father once wrote a scathing review about Benedict, and Wanda took it upon herself to avenge her son in a nasty letter. Neil never replied to Wanda that I know of – did he?”

“No. He just had a good laugh and framed it for posterity. I wish we didn’t have to wait a whole week for them to meet. I’m going to lose sleep wondering about what’s going to go down when they do.”

Steven nodded and drained his coffee mug. “There’s no need to wonder or lose sleep, because I can guarantee you that it will be the Clash of the Titans all over again.”

“What are we going to do, Steve?”

“I think it would be an excellent time for us to pack a bag and go away for the weekend. What’s the name of that hotel Benedict and Donna are staying at?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Benedict’s food poisoning was taken from an interview where he mentions going on a Gastro Holiday in Cornwall with Olivia and he got sick the night before the most expensive of the dinners and his holiday was ruined. 
> 
> 2\. I've had food poisoning a couple of times in my life, and it isn't pretty - therefore neither is this chapter. I wanted to depict it as realistically as possible to also show that things like this do happen to people. It also gave me a chance to show Benedict and Donna's neurotic sides again. 
> 
> 3\. Above is what I visualize Donna to look like, with her longer hair, in the blue lace chemise.
> 
> 4\. Timothy and Wanda played the best friends of the leads in the British sitcom, Next of Kin. There characters were a married couple named Hugh and Rosie.


	91. Chapter 91

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 7 of Cornwall: Benedict finally recovers and clashes with Donna over several things. 
> 
> Note: I will be using ************** to indicate things happening at the same time.
> 
> Note: Warnings: This chapter contains discussion of illness and some explicit sex

  

Benedict Cumberbatch stood at the window watching the rain pour down when he heard the subtle click of the room door lock, announcing Donna’s return from the last of the Gastro Week dinners. He turned to welcome her back and did his best to muster a smile in spite of his worn-out condition. Donna noted that his eyes appeared sunken, and he was still pale as a ghost. He visibly shivered even though he was wrapped up in the heavy hotel robe. 

“How was the dinner?” 

“It was absolutely fabulous! How I wish you could have been there. The chef pulled out all stops tonight. It was a feast for the eyes and stomach, focusing on the best Cornwall has to offer,” said Donna, crossing the room in order to join him at the window. 

“That sounds like your opener,” chuckled Benedict. 

“That’s because it _is_ my opener,” laughed Donna, wrapping her arms around his slender waist and tilting her head up so he could kiss her. She inhaled the lingering spicy citrus scent of his cologne. 

They both stood quietly, observing the rain sheet down the window. Any view there might have been was marred as the slate grey sky grew darker. 

“This fucking rain and wind hasn’t let up all day. I usually love this time of year when it stays light later; but not when the only things I can see and hear are rain, wind and a choppy sea.” 

“If it makes you feel better, the view wasn’t any better from downstairs,” scoffed Donna. “It had gotten so chilly that they lit the fire in the dining room, so between that and the candles it was very cozy. I had stepped outside to get some air on the covered veranda afterwards, but it was freezing. I came right back inside.” 

“It did get much colder, which is why I turned the air con off and the fireplace on.” 

Donna indicated the fireplace with her chin. “That was a good idea. I can really appreciate the fire tonight.” 

Benedict raised an eyebrow at her. “Well then. That’s a first.” 

Donna frowned. “What’s a first?” 

“You’ve now admitted to feeling chilly twice in the same conversation. I do think I may faint from shock.” 

Donna ignored his comment. “You look somewhat better than when I last left you,” she observed. 

“I spent most of the day alternating between sleeping and visits to the loo. After spending so much time in there, I can report with confidence that there are one hundred and ten seashells on the wallpaper border and thirty-two tiles on the floor, which are blissfully heated.” 

“That’s scary. I’ve done stuff like that in the bathroom when I’ve been sick and stuck on the bowl.” 

“It helped pass the time,” quipped Benedict. “I actually feel somewhat refreshed – better than I did last night anyway.”   

“You needed the rest after last night. Has your stomach settled down any?” 

“I’m still getting waves of nausea every now and then, but the flat Coke is helping with that. The cramping isn’t constant like it had been. The last time I had to use the loo was around half six. As a matter of fact, I was starting to feel a bit peckish; so I ordered up some toast and tea. It should be here soon.” 

“Now, that _is_ a good sign! If you were still as bad as last night and this morning, I was going to suggest we extend our stay for another day or two. I checked with the front desk, and it would be no problem.” 

“I think I’ll be okay to drive by tomorrow morning.” 

“Are you sure? It’s a long drive back to London.” 

“Absolutely…Jesus!” Benedict groaned as his stomach not-so-subtly reminded him that he was not fully recovered yet. The violent cramping had suddenly returned, causing him to double over in pain. “Just when I thought it was finally easing up!” 

“Steve said this can linger for several days before you really start feeling like yourself again.” 

“I’m sure I can last a few hours in the car. I know there are several motorway services on the way because we stopped at all of them so you could take a wee and stretch.” 

_There were only two, Benedict. He makes it sound like there were twelve. He’s sick and still manages to be a wise ass._

“Aren’t you glad I did, Honey?” Asked Donna smugly. “Now, you know where the both of them are just in case.” 

_Oh, that was the snarky version of “Honey”. She did stop at every last fucking travel plaza we came to, bless her._

“Motherfucker!” Benedict winced as his stomach began to gurgle and the spasms grew even more intense. “On second thought, I think it might be wise if we stayed another day or two,” he conceded as he trotted off towards the bathroom. “There’s no way I’ll be able to drive in this condition, and you will bloody well learn how to drive a manual when we get back!” 

_He’s right. I could have driven us back to London if I knew how to handle a stick shift._

“Good idea on both counts. I’ll call the front desk and make the arrangements.”    

 

 

Wednesday evening Donna Saint James returned from the Nare’s gym to find Benedict sitting on the love seat, reading the script for _After the Dance_. She was relieved to see the sparkle back in his ice blue eyes when he looked up and smiled at her. Donna also noted that he had showered, shaved and changed into clean pajamas. 

“What time do you fancy leaving tomorrow morning?” 

“How about we get an early start and leave at seven?” 

“I was thinking more in terms of eleven.” 

_Then why did he bother asking me?_

“If we leave early, we’ll miss the traffic.” 

_Why did I bother asking her in the first place?_

“There won’t be any traffic at that time of day. If we plan to leave at eleven, we can be well-rested and have a leisurely brunch right before we leave.” 

Donna blotted the sweat off her face and the back of her neck with the towel as she regarded her boyfriend. 

_Hmmm…he said plans to leave at eleven. If we dine before we leave, then that puts our departure time at after eleven. This is Benedict-speak for we’ll leave sometime between noon and two._

“Checkout is at noon, so there’s no rush to vacate the room, is there?” continued Benedict. “Unless you’ve grown tired of my company.” 

_Now he just said checkout is at noon. So, he wants to stay in the room until noon?_

“NO! I love all the quality time we’ve had together this week, but you just said that you…” 

“Then why not extend it for a little longer before we have to return to the real world,” He said pleadingly. “I’ve been cooped up in here sick since Friday night.” 

Benedict crinkled his nose and smiled at her. 

_Jeez Louise. There he goes with that cute nose crinkle and smile. Compromise, Donna. Don’t bicker with him over a couple of hours here and there._

“Okay. You’ve convinced me. We’ll leave at eleven.” 

Benedict dug his heels in. “Not this time!” 

_He did say eleven originally or am I crazy? No. He definitely said he wanted to leave at eleven. Perhaps he just picks numbers out of the air and hopes for the best._

“I’ve been sick as a dog the past five days and finally feel somewhat human again. I’m tired of eating toast, rice and crackers. I want real food!” 

“Of course we can have breakfast before we leave! I’m thrilled that your appetite is back!” smiled Donna. “We’ll go downstairs at ten and leave right afterwards.” 

Benedict closed the script and placed it on the coffee table. He huffed and pretended to brush imaginary lint off the arm of the loveseat. 

“I want to end our holiday on a pleasant note; which to me means having a decent lie in, taking my time packing up and having a decadent brunch – stomach permitting, of course.” 

_Sounds like he intends to leave the room at eleven and then eat._

“You are confusing me, Benedict. Are you saying you really want to leave at noon? You want to leave the room at eleven, eat and then leave. Did I understand that correctly?” 

Benedict rolled his eyes. “The whole point is there _is_ no set time, Love. I want to leave when we’re done is all. We’ll check out at noon and have brunch before we leave.” 

_Then why did he say eleven in the first place? I doubt he even knows why. We won’t get back to London until late. I’ve got work tomorrow, the meeting with Mark Gatiss that Carly rescheduled and laundry to catch up on._

“I’ve got work tomorrow and a meeting with Mark Gatiss about the _Dr. Who_ catering.” 

“That’s tomorrow for fucks sake! We’ll be back early enough for you to prepare. We’ll be going against the traffic, and you can have a kip in the car like you always do.” 

“I don’t always fall asleep.” 

“Yes, you most certainly do, Sweetheart,” snorted Benedict. He closed his eyes and made snoring noises. 

“Very funny,” snapped Donna. “I don’t snore.” 

Benedict smiled indulgently at her. “How would you know? You’re sleeping.” 

_We’re bickering. I really didn’t want it to come to this.  
_

_She’s not winning this row. Hmmm…that’s not very mature of me, is it? I don’t think I give two fucks._

“I’m going to have laundry to do when we get back, and I’ve got to be ...” 

“Fuck the laundry for once! I’d rather you fuck me instead. Besides you already did our laundry Monday because we were out of clean clothes.” 

_You were out of clean clothes. I always pack extra for emergencies._

“How about you indulge me this once?”   

_Don’t be a bitch, Donna. He’s been so sick and missed the best of the dinners. He’s definitely feeling better, and it really wouldn’t hurt to save the laundry to do tomorrow night. Act like an adult and compromise. Show him that a relationship is give and take. This is my turn to do the giving._

“You may consider yourself indulged.” 

_Jolly good then. I got my way. She’s not too chuffed with me right now, but she’ll get over it. I really hated having to play the sick card, but she really needs to loosen up and learn to enjoy the holiday from start to finish. Laundry can be done any time once we get back. She’s got the rest of the bloody week to catch up.  
_

_I miss having sexy time with Benedict. I bet he’ll be in the mood tomorrow morning…hell, I’m in the mood now. I can’t believe that I want him so badly. He looks so handsome sitting there. His eyes look blue green in the lighting._

“We’ll see about the fucking part tomorrow if you’re up to it,” added Donna with a wink. 

_I think I’m up to it now, but we’ll see what happens._

“I need to give my column one last look before emailing it to my editor. I have to do it tonight.” 

“When is it due?” 

“Tomorrow morning. It’s going to be published this Sunday, so I can’t put it off any longer. He needs time to review and return it to me for any corrections. Then I’m going to pack up my things, so I won’t have to do it in the morning.” 

_You are a better person than I am, Donna Saint James_ , thought Benedict with amusement. _All she has to do is open the bloody suitcase and toss everything back in. She’s also re-read her column several times already. My darling is too much of a perfectionist, though to be fair, I’m rather anal myself when it comes to my work. We are well-suited to each other.  
_

“What is there to pack up? All I have to do is get out the luggage; we toss everything in and go. The whole process should take five minutes at the most!” 

Donna fixed him with a look of astonishment, and then shook her head. 

_This is the man who crams everything haphazardly into his suitcases and hopes for the best. There is no reason to think that he would take any care packing his stuff up._

“Well, you are right, I suppose. I don’t have that much to repack because I always fold my used clothing every night and store it in my laundry bags. All my clean stuff is already folded back up. I just have to take it out of the drawers and wrap it in tissue paper.” 

_OH, yes. How could I forget Donna’s obsession with having multiple laundry bags. The bag for her lingerie, the bag for the dry cleaning, the bag for the cold water wash, the bag for the socks. And let us not forget the disinfecting of the room and the ironing every morning. Christ! She makes more work for herself while on holiday. I’ve never seen anything quite like it._

Benedict watched as Donna removed something pink and lacy from the dresser drawer. Whatever it was, she had wrapped in tissue paper. He craned his neck, trying to see what she had. 

_Yes, you have seen something like this, Benedict. Mum does some of that stuff. Not all of it, but a good portion of it. They say men often look for women who remind them of their mothers. Have I gone and done that this time? The thought utterly terrifies me. I’m surprised she didn’t think to do the rest of the dirty laundry tonight in order to save time. She could bring her laptop down to the laundry room with her in the interest of multi-tasking.  
_

_Thank God they had a laundry room here so I could make sure we had clean clothes for the remainder of the trip. Those machines were so small, it took forever to do. I wish I had time to do what we accumulated since then before we leave. We always did our laundry before going home when we were on vacation. Mom would be appalled if she knew I was bringing back dirty laundry._

“It’s a lot easier to just put it all in one bag and drop it into the washer when you get back,” said Benedict, crossing his legs and picking up one of the books he had brought. “There’s no need to sort out every bit of clothing you wear.” 

_Of course there isn’t. That story about getting those pink boxer briefs and t-shirts on sale is bullshit. You washed them with something that wasn’t color-fast. That’s also explains why his stuff gets so wrinkled all the time.  
_

_I’ll make a peace offering. Maybe I can help speed things up for her._

“Would you like me to pack up some of your things while you work on your column?” 

_That’s so sweet. He wants to smooth things over by helping me. All he has to do is lay the bags back in the suitcase. It will take him two minutes at most._

“I think I will take you up on your offer. Everything that goes back in the suitcase is already in bags. I labeled each bag so I know what’s in there.” 

_Of course she did, bless her._

“You do realize the plastic bags are clear yes? You _can_ see what’s inside.” 

Donna fixed him with a look. 

_And now I’ll just shut up and do as I’m asked._

“Just lay it all in the suitcase. I’m going to shower and change.” 

There was a knock at the door. “Room service!” 

“Ah, that must be my gourmet dinner of toast and tea. I thought I’d change it up from the rice I had for lunch. I see William has taken to announcing himself after Saturday morning,” laughed Benedict as he got up to answer the door. “You can read me your column while I eat my humble repast.” 

 

 

 

Donna Saint James studied her reflection in the full length mirror on the back of the bathroom door. The delicate, pale pink lace chemise and matching cover up was the most revealing lingerie set she owned. She had planned on wearing it when Benedict got sick, but now she was out of clean sleepwear and this was the only thing left. Donna ran her hands over the exquisite hand-made lace, feeling her nipples harden at the touch of her fingertips. 

_I wish I had thought to bring something that I could put in the wash. All these sets have to be hand-washed when I get back. I can’t believe how skimpy this one is. It leaves nothing to the imagination. What was I thinking when I bought it? I was thinking that this would be just the thing to seduce my honey in. It’s one thing to feel confident in the dressing room, but now I feel so exposed in it. However, it also makes me feel very sexy and unbelievable horny. I guess I saved it because I felt I would be more comfortable wearing it around Benedict at the end of the trip, and I suppose I do.  
_

Donna turned sideways and then took a look at the view of her backside. _  
_

_Yikes! You can see the crack of my ass in all its glory. I don’t want to write. I want to give him a night to remember…and I don’t mean talking about food. He took pains with making himself presentable, and I can tell he’s not wearing underwear by the way his package hangs when he got up to answer the door. I love how the silk outlines his prick. The cologne tells me he’s looking to get laid. I don’t want to push him if he’s not up to it. I also don’t want him to think I wore this in order to be a cock tease. I’ll play it by ear.  
_

 

*****************************************************

  

Benedict sat on the love seat, eating his granary toast on which he had spread a thin layer of Marmite.   He sipped his tea and looked longingly at the bed. 

_Tonight’s our last night here, and we should be making love. Instead I’m sat here eating this crap, and she’s going to be proofreading her column for the third or fourth time and telling me about all the delicious food I missed. Maybe it doesn’t have to be this way. I’m feeling pretty good now. My stomach and bowels are under control. I’m starting to get a bit randy.  
_

Benedict set down the cup and saucer and turned off all the lamps except the one on the desk where Donna had set her laptop to boot up. He retrieved his iPod and found some soft, background music. _  
_

_There’s plenty of light between the lamp and the fireplace. I think I’ll tend to the bed, just in case she’s in the mood for love._

The bed had already been made up with fresh linen as he had allowed housekeeping to come in and tidy up while Donna was down at dinner. Benedict turned down the covers and plumped the pillows against the headboard to his liking. He made sure the tube of lube was at the ready and the double-checked that the bedside box of tissues was full. 

_Hmmm…we never opened that bottle of wine we bought in the liquor store in Saint Ives. I wonder if my stomach can handle a few sips. It’s probably not a good idea. I’ll pour her a glass and stick with the tea.  
_

Benedict deftly uncorked the small bottle of wine and looked around for a wine glass. There were only beakers. The glasses were in the bathroom. 

_A beaker it is then. You’re so suave, Benedict. This will really impress her. Oh, I don’t want to forget the chocolates! Donna adores those chocolates they leave every night.  
_

He filled one of the beakers with the wine and set it beside her laptop along with the two chocolate truffles the maid had left on their pillows. 

_Well, I’m as ready as I’ll ever be. Let’s see what happens._

Benedict returned to the loveseat and curled up with his feet tucked underneath him. He picked up a triangle of toast to nibble on while he went back to reading the script. It was the second time he had read it and was more excited than the first time he had gone through it. 

_I really want to play this role. It’s something I feel I can really sink my teeth into. I will text John in the morning that I am definitely interested in auditioning and to see if he can set up something.  
_

Benedict was about to take another bite of his toast when he heard the bathroom door open and looked up to see Donna walking towards him totally nude. 

_My fucking God! She looks so hot. Oh, Benedict, she does have love on her mind after all. I fucking adore how in sync our libidos are._

As Donna got closer, Benedict realized she was dressed in an almost transparent lingerie set made of pale pink lace. He shook his head in order to clear it. 

_Holy Christ! All I can see is skin…luscious, silky smooth skin…and nipples…and her gorgeous cunt. It gives the illusion of being nude…yet…I’m starting to get stiff. I can’t think straight._

Benedict didn’t realize he was openly gawking at Donna as the toast slipped through his fingers onto the script. 

 

************************************************

  

The door to the bathroom opened and Donna ventured out into the room, which was bathed in a romantic, golden glow. Soft, jazz music was playing in the background. A quick scan of the room showed that Benedict had turned down the bed and readied it for a night of passion. 

_Someone is certainly feeling better. The pillows are arranged in his favorite blow job position. The lube is out and the Kleenex is at the ready. Honey wants to fool around.  
_

Donna walked towards the love seat, aware of Benedict unabashedly staring at her body. She also noticed that his pajamas had tented a bit over his crotch. 

“Wow, wow, wow!” he said in a hoarse voice, as the piece of toast he was holding fell to the open script. “You look like a wickedly beautiful angel out to do some seducing.” 

_And I am more than ready to be seduced. Seduce me, please, Donna. It will only take a few seconds at the most._

_He definitely approves. I can see he’s getting aroused. He doesn’t realize he dropped his toast.  
_

“I don’t mean to distract you from your reading, but this was all I had left to wear.” 

“You’re a most welcome distraction…OH Shit!” He cried, looking down at the script. “I ruined the fucking script!” 

“No you didn’t.” Donna closed the gap in between them and plucked the toast triangle off the page. “You’re lucky it landed on the side without the…what _is_ this stuff?” she asked, sniffing the pungent scent of the Marmite with distaste. 

“Marmite.” 

“Oh my God…it smells of… yeast.” 

“That’s because it _is_ made from yeast,” smirked Benedict. “You mean to tell me you’ve never had the pleasure of tasting Marmite?” 

Donna shook her head emphatically. “Never, I’m happy to say. It certainly doesn’t smell very good.” 

Benedict wagged a finger at her. “Shame on you, Donna Saint James! An important food critic such as you owes it to her readers to be completely informed as to how Marmite tastes.” 

“Well, I really…” 

“No excuses! I promise you that you’re in for a treat.” 

“Oh, I don’t know,” said Donna skeptically. “It certainly doesn’t smell very appetizing.” 

“You are going to be over-the-moon once you taste it.” 

_I bet he’s wrong. I seriously think I’ll barf._

Benedict indicated the toast with his chin. “Go ahead then. Give it a try.” 

_I think I’d rather swallow his semen._

Donna frowned at the piece of toast in her hand. “I think I’ll pass.” 

Benedict rolled his eyes as he placed the script on the coffee table and picked up his teacup and saucer. 

“I’m frankly appalled at your refusal to expose your taste buds to a new flavour experience.” 

“I think of it as protecting my taste buds.” 

“Pffffttttt,” Benedict scoffed at her. “You have no idea what you’re missing.” 

“Oh, I think I do.” 

“I really can’t believe how close-minded you’re being about this, Love. A food critic, who is afraid to try a new food. Preposterous!” 

“What else do you have on this? Is that butter?” 

Benedict sipped his tea and nodded. “I put a thin layer of butter first, then I top it with an equally thin layer of Marmite. It cuts the saltiness.” 

“It looks like you spread a pretty thick layer on it to me…” 

“That’s because I fancy Marmite. Just ask my mother. She always keeps a jar on hand, and I always have one in my pantry.” 

“… and I thought you weren’t supposed to be eating butter yet.” 

“One has to have butter with Marmite,” insisted Benedict. “It’s the law,” he added playfully. “Besides, I’m feeling better now.” 

Donna regarded the toast with a frown and sniffed it again. 

“Bloody hell! I can’t believe you won’t taste it!” guffawed Benedict. “I’ve seen you eat all sorts of things the average person would never consider putting in their mouth – offal meats, durian fruit, even haggis! Yet, you won’t try a harmless little spread made from yeast.” 

“Stop trying to guilt me into trying it, Benedict.” 

“It’s chock full of vitamins you know. It’s quite healthy for you.” 

“Whenever people say that, it usually means it tastes horrible.” 

Benedict shook his head. “And I thought food critics sought out the unusual.” 

“We…I _do_ seek to try things that are different and unique.” 

_Good job, Donna. You just boxed yourself into a corner.  
_

_Hahaha! I got her this time. She has to try it now._

Benedict smiled widely and raised an eyebrow at her. “I would think then that Marmite would surely qualify as different and unique yes?” 

“Okay. I can’t argue with you.” 

Donna took a small bite of the toast and chewed. The pungent, saltiness filled her mouth. She grimaced and swallowed it. 

“Holy cow!” 

“What do you think?” Benedict asked hopefully. 

_Your semen is more palatable._

“I think it tastes as awful as it smells. It is so salty and reminds me of drippings from a beef roast…I can definitely taste the yeast…and that meaty aftertaste. In a word: yuck!” 

“Yuck,” repeated Benedict with a smirk on his handsome face.   “Not the most eloquent description I’ve ever heard come out of your pretty mouth,” he mused. 

“I need some of that tea to wash away the taste.” 

Benedict held up the cup and saucer to her. Donna took the tea cup and drank down the contents, shivering afterwards. 

“Do you fancy another taste just to make sure, Sweetheart?” 

“You’re a real bastard, Benedict!” 

He sat back and cackled at her. “I can’t believe you’re making such a bloody fuss over….” 

Donna unceremoniously shoved the piece of toast into Benedict’s mouth. 

“No! I don’t want or fancy it – ever again. You can review all the Marmite dishes from here on end!” 

Benedict finished the toast, eyes sparkling with good humor. 

“You really enjoy goading me, don’t you?” 

“You haven’t a clue just how much I relish doing that,” he replied with a self-satisfied smirk. 

“I’m going to finish proofing my column now so I can email it to my editor and not have to worry about doing it in the morning.” 

“Don’t forget to review the Marmite,” he called after her.

Donna ignored him as she sat at the desk. She looked at the chocolates and mug. Benedict could visualize her eyes lighting up upon seeing the truffles. 

“Oooo what do we have here? Chocolate truffles! Oh, and you made me tea? How sweet of you, Ben Honey,” Donna said taking a sip. 

_Ben Honey goes straight to my dick every single time she says it._

“Whoa hoa! This is wine, not tea. Are you trying to get me tipsy so you can seduce me?” 

“The thought did cross my mind.” 

“You don’t need to ply me with wine and chocolates in order to seduce me, Sir.” 

“How about quickly proofing your column, so I can get on with seducing you.” 

“What about you? Do I need to work at seducing you?” 

_All she has to do is call me Ben Honey a few more times, tug my hair the right way and I’m hers._

“I think you know by now what an easy lay I am,” he chuckled. “Not to mention what a tart I am for revealing, sexy lingerie.” 

“I won’t be long.” 

Donna began to read through her column as she sipped the wine and nibbled on one of the chocolates. 

“Mmmmmmm.” 

“Find something to your liking?” 

“It’s a dark chocolate truffle filled with raspberry puree. Much better than the Marmite.” 

_I want her to ask me about the wine.  
_

Donna had some more wine and finished the truffle. 

_She’s not asking me about the fucking wine. I want to show off._

“How’s the wine?” Inquired Benedict innocently. 

“Delicious. Did we buy this one after the winery tour we took last week?” 

_Well done me for reading the label before opening it.  
_

“Yeah. It’s the Pinot Noir 1989, made from French grapes grown in their vineyards and aged in oak casks.” 

_How cute is he? He read the label._

“I also took the liberty of stashing the other bottles we bought in my suitcase, so there will be less to pack up tomorrow. Your vase has also been carefully put back in its original wrappings.” 

“Thank you. Would you like to hear about the last dinner? You never asked me.” 

“Go ahead while I sit here and eat my toast.” 

“I’ll just read you the important parts. The amuse bouche was a Cornish pasty filled with Lobster Thermidor. The rich, velvety, Comte cream sauce was studded with bits of truffle; which added a nice earthy flavor. The chef used a first-rate brandy in the sauce, which is exactly what I have come to expect from him. This was enveloped in a golden brown crust which was made with part Cornish butter and part lard, thus providing the best of both worlds: a tender yet flakey pastry.” 

“They must have sent up the same butter for my toast,” quipped Benedict, setting aside his toast and wiping his mouth with his serviette. 

“The appetizer of foie gras and smoked duck terrine came to table as a simple slice with a smear of a cinnamon-spiced pear chutney and sprinkling of toasted whole green pistachio nuts. This was served with perfectly toasted brioche cut into flower shapes. The sweet, yet tangy chutney cut though the richness of the terrine, which otherwise may have been too rich on its own.” 

“What I wouldn’t give for a slice of that right now,” said Benedict longingly. "I adore foie gras." 

“The chef then surprised us with a salad course, which was a feast for the eyes as well as the stomach. It was a cylindrical-shaped, stacked salad composed of chopped avocado, mango, cucumber, tomato and a thick layer of succulent, sweet Cornish Crab to top it off. There were alternating dollops of red, white and black caviar surrounding the stack. The dressing was a lime and cilantro vinaigrette, which was the ideal complement to a delicious and fresh-tasting palate cleanser.”

“I’m starting to feel a bit envious,” sighed Benedict. 

“The main course was described as “Cornish Surf and Turf”. The Longhorn aged filet mignon was topped with a local Cornish blue cheese “crust”. The still sizzling steak was cooked medium as requested with a hot, bright pink center and appropriately charred crust. The meat was fork tender and very juicy. Its surf partner was a Cornish Seafood Cake, which was comprised of Cornish crab, brown shrimps and tiny scallops all held together with a bare minimum of breading – just a bit of panko bread crumbs - and clotted cream to bind. The cake was sautéed in butter until the outside was golden brown and crispy, leaving the inside moist and succulent. There were dots of a tarragon beurre blanc sauce (the chef loves to ‘dot’ and ‘smear’ his sauces, which I highly approve of). There is nothing worse than to have to search for your food under a mantel of sauce.” 

“That sounds positively brilliant,” moaned Benedict. “What were the sides?” 

Donna cleared her throat and continued. “This was accompanied by a dollop of purple mashed potatoes and roasted Brussels sprouts with toasted whole hazelnuts and house-cured bacon that had been candied with brown sugar. All in all, I enjoyed every bite immensely.” 

“I’m now officially extremely envious. Did you eat the whole thing?” 

Donna gave him a look over her shoulder. “Hell, no! I’d be fat as a house if I ate everything that they served me. I ate about a quarter of everything.” 

“You could have brought back the leftovers to me,” sulked Benedict. 

“You had food poisoning. I wasn’t going to impede your recovery.” 

Benedict rose and came to stand along beside her. “Did they serve a wine with each course like they had been doing?” 

Donna nodded. “Yes, but I only tasted each one. I needed a clear head to take notes." 

“What a pity. You know how happy I am to help you finish your wine. I’ve read that wine is medicinal.” 

“Not for what you have I’m afraid. Want to hear the rest? I don’t want to torture you.” 

“Go ahead.” 

“After the main course, we were served a platter of Cornish-made cheeses and a variety of orchard-fresh fruits with oatcakes.” 

“That course doesn’t sound very special,” mused Benedict, peeking over her shoulder. “Wait, you’re not reading everything you wrote about the cheese tray.” 

“That’s because you’ve already tasted most of them as well as the fruits grown here last week.” 

“And the pudding? You know that’s my favourite part of any meal.” 

“Mine, too,” giggled Donna. “This was the best part. Are you sure you want to hear?” 

“Yeah, I can take it. As you were.” 

“Okay. Rather than one plated dessert, the chef chose to showcase a sampling of Cornish desserts. We were served huge platters containing a delightful array of bite-sized treats.” 

“I’m getting stropy just looking at the photos you took. Just tell me what they were.” 

“From right to left: Saffron butter cake, which you had last week. A ginger cookie, a miniature Whortleberry pie – which tasted very similar to blueberry pie, Gillyflower apple crumble with custard sauce, Hevva cake and quenelles of vanilla and house-churned blackberry ice cream.” 

“Nothing with chocolate then?” inquired Benedict with a raised eyebrow. 

“Nope. Not a drop of chocolate.” 

“You must have been beside yourself.” 

“I was until I came up here and found that housekeeping left a bag of truffles on the doorknob while you were sleeping. They made sure I had my chocolate fix every night!” 

“Jolly well done. Are you finished then?” 

“Almost. I just have to read through the closing comments.” 

Benedict stood behind her and absently played with her hair. She could feel him breathing down her back. 

_Mmmm…I smell chocolate and mint. He snuck one of his Fortnum and Mason mints to mask the Marmite on his breath. Smart man._

“Your breath tickles.” 

“Does it now?” 

“Yes! I’ve got practically nothing on.” 

“I hadn’t noticed,” whispered Benedict, lifting up her hair in order to kiss the side of her neck lightly. “Hurry up with that. I’m getting impatient.” 

“That’s not all you’re getting,” snickered Donna, as she felt him press the start of an erection against her side. “Just two more minutes, Ben.” 

He sighed heavily behind her and leaned over her, both hands straddling her shoulders as he read what she had written. 

_He’s definitely annoyed, but this has to be right the first time._ _I really want to impress Eric with my writing._

“I’ve already read most of it, and it’s a brilliant article,” Benedict said, kissing her cheek. “Just stop here, so I can finish it,” he instructed, covering her hand with his so as to guide the mouse himself. 

“You’re making it hard for me to concentrate,” she breathed as he placed soft, butterfly kisses on her cheek, jaw and neck. 

“That’s the idea,” he chuckled. “How am I doing?” 

“Too damn well. Please stop, Benedict,” Donna protested weakly, leaning back her head in order to expose more of her neck to his lips. 

Benedict’s other hand moved to rest on her left shoulder. Soon, Donna felt it wander down to gently cup her breast and finger her nipple through the lace. 

“I know you’ve already gone over this – how many times now?” 

“Ffffffour. I want it to be… perfect. This is the first article of this kind that I’ve done for this particular editor, and I want to impress him.” 

“You _will_ impress him, Donna. Your wit and charm comes through in your writing, and your readers will want to come here and experience Cornwall and all it has to offer after reading this article. It’s a brilliant advert for the Nare. The chef and owners will be chuffed as hell when they read it.” 

“I just need to…” 

“There is nothing more to do,” retorted Benedict with finality. “The article is already perfect. It’s been checked for spelling, grammar and content several times over by both of us last week. I just finished reading the wrap up. There is nothing wrong. If there was something that needed correcting, I would have told you or you would have done it by now. It’s time to stop mucking around and just send the bloody thing out.” 

“Okay, but…” 

“No more buts,” he snapped, patience gone. 

Benedict moved her hand off the mouse and clicked on ‘send’. 

_Did he just take it upon himself to email my column to my editor? Yes, he did.  
_

“Why did you do that?” exclaimed Donna, eyes flashing with anger. “I wasn’t ready yet.” 

Benedict abruptly shut down her laptop and spun her chair around so she was facing him. 

“Stop making such a fuss for fucks sake! And you have the bollocks to always make fun of me that I waffle on and on ad finitum? You are no better, Sweetheart. We are both anal and wordy to a fault and waffle until we make others want to scream. In other words - we are a perfectly matched pair.” 

_That was the snotty Sweetheart. Anal? Wordy? Waffle? I’m not like him! Am I? I might be now that I think about it. Not a lot though. Just a little bit. I hope. He’s probably right.  
_

Donna bristled at his words. “I am not like that!” she cried indignantly. “Go fuck yourself!” 

“Sod off, Donna! You most certainly are. I didn’t come all the way to Cornwall to jerk off when I’ve got such a beautiful and desirable woman right here,” Benedict growled, scooping Donna up and carrying her off to the bed. 

“Hey!” she squealed in surprise. “What are you doing?” 

“What do you think I’m doing?” Benedict gave an evil laugh that Donna felt rumble though his chest. “It’s time to dispense with this row and have some fun.” 

_I can’t believe I just squealed like a teenager. Good gravy!_

“Put me down!” she began to giggle. 

“With pleasure,” Benedict smirked, tossing Donna in the middle of the bed and climbing beside her. “I’ve wanted to devour you since you came out of the loo, swinging your voluptuous hips with those rosy pink nipples poking through that lace oh so seductively.” 

Donna turned to face him and ran her hand through his hair as she leaned in to kiss him.  “I’ve been thinking of how good it feels when we’re together and how much I’ve been craving sex since you got sick. I almost got myself off in the shower before thinking about you. You’ve unleashed something inside me, Benedict Cumberbatch, and I’m loving it.” 

Donna could see him visibly puff up from the compliment as a smug smile formed on his lips. 

_Christ! She’s certainly come a long way if she can admit to wanting to touch herself to me. We are making great strides in communicating our feelings and desires to each other._

“I want you, too, Darling. I’ve also been thinking about how wonderful last week was. Let me show you how much I love you.” 

“And I want nothing more; but are you sure you’re up to it.” 

“What do you think?” He said, pressing his straining erection against her stomach. 

“From the feel of it, I’d say you’ve made a complete recovery,” Donna smiled. She nibbled on his earlobe and whispered, “Please feel free to proceed, Ben Honey.” 

_And proceed I shall._ _Now, I need to get this lacy outfit off her. This is not going to be easy. I can visualize myself poking a hole in it._

Benedict looked Donna up and down as he bit his lip. He reached out to gather the hem of her chemise, then hesitated and quickly pulled his hand back. 

“Erm…I think you’d better take this off. I’d be afraid of ripping it. It looks rather expensive.” 

_That is an excellent idea, Benedict. This set me back three hundred dollars at Bergdorf Goodman’s last year, and it was on sale. Carly thought I was crazy at the time, but I can see in his eyes that it was worth every penny._

Donna nodded and sat up. She slipped off the flimsy cover up and pulled the chemise up over her head with great care, tossing it onto the foot of the bed. His lust-filled, ice blue eyes had darkened and wandered over her body appreciatively. He face wore a predatory smile, and he licked his lips suggestively. 

“And now it’s my turn to undress you, Benedict.” 

_I love when she undresses me. It’s so damn sexy._

Donna leaned down and began to unbutton Benedict’s pajama top and helped him slip out of it. She kissed him all the way down his long neck, pausing to tickle his mole with her tongue. Benedict began to fondle her breasts. He caressed and stroked them, finally focusing on her sensitive nipples, lightly teasing them with his fingertips. 

“You are so very, very lovely, Darling. Do you like what I’m doing?” 

“Yes!” Donna replied, feeling her heart begin to beat harder. “Don’t stop.” 

Benedict continued to apply gentle pressure as he squeezed her nipples, enjoying how they hardened under his touch. Donna kissed his shoulders and massaged his pectoral muscles. He lay back against the pillows as she licked and kissed his nipples, causing him to moan with pleasure. 

“What do you want, Benedict? Tell me what will make you feel good.” 

“Suck them,” Benedict replied, as his hand wandered down to caress her pubic hair and vulva. “So soft…you’re so delightful wet already,” he said parting her folds with his index finger. “Mmmmmm.” Donna felt him gently insert a finger into her cunt. “I want to go down on you.” He withdrew the finger and sucked on it meaningfully. 

_I want to take care of him right now._

“Please let me pay attention to you for a while. I want to show you how much I love you. Just lay back and relax and enjoy what I’m doing.” 

_Oh, yes. I can do that. I’m good with whatever she wants to do to me. I trust her completely in bed. Oh, Benedict, you’re such a tart when it comes to foreplay._

Donna glided her tongue over Benedict’s nipples and sucked each of them in turn, causing him to groan loudly. His eyes fluttered closed while he savored the tingling sensations in his chest that seemed to travel down to his groin. He felt her hands move down to undo the snap holding his sleep pants together and slid them down his long legs. Benedict was anxious for her to touch him, and helped by kicking them off his feet onto the floor. She next helped him remove his underwear and ran her fingers through the soft, ginger hair that curled around the base of his penis. Donna then gently kissed and cupped his balls, which elicited deep moans from his swollen pink lips. She paused to lick and suck them while he opened his eyes to watch. His eyes were dark and the pupils completely dilated. She squeezed his package lightly, causing his balls to swell from his arousal. 

_He’s squirming and fisting those sheets as if he’s ready to shoot his load. I know he’ll tell me when he’s that close.  
_

_I can’t believe how fast I arrived at this point. I’m not going to last long if she keeps it up, but it feels so fucking divine. Maybe I’ll ask her to take me to the brink of orgasm a couple of times. I mustn’t be impatient. The end result will be worth it.  
_

_I’ll scratch him with my nails like I’ve been doing. He seems to really get off on that.  
_

Donna lightly ran her nails over his scrotum, causing Benedict to shiver. 

_OH SHIT! I love that! Beth never understood how to use those claws of hers to turn me on._

“That’s utterly delightful!” he exclaimed. 

“Do you want more of this, Ben Honey?” 

_I want everything. This is akin to putting a starving man inside a fucking chocolate shop.  
_

“I fucking adore when you call me that…I feel so loved whenever I hear you call me…Ben Honey…” he panted. “I want to feel your hands and mouth all over my body. Don’t touch my dick until I tell you to. I want you to take me to the brink, but pull back just before I start to come.” 

“Only you can tell me when you’re about to come. I can only tell by what physical signs I can see.”

“Trust me,” gasped Benedict. “I will.” 

Donna did as he asked, causing intense waves of pleasure throughout his body. She could feel his muscles tensing and relaxing under her touch, as he continued to fist the sheets and arch his back towards her. 

“Donna, I want you…I need you to touch my dick. I want you to rub me…GOD. ..YES…harder...fuck!!! This feels sooooo fucking good.” 

Donna alternated between rubbing and squeezing the length of his swollen and throbbing cock as Benedict watched her through hooded eyes. She enjoyed watching his excitement grow and the feeling of him hardening even further under her fingertips. A few white pearls of semen oozed from the slit in his glans. Donna licked it up by sweeping her tongue over the head, causing him to shudder and thrust his hips towards her. He shut his eyes tightly and repositioned her hand on him. 

“Twist my glans a bit on the upstroke…that’s fucking brilliant! Yesssssss!” 

_I can lick those first drops with no problem. Actually, this may be preferable to Marmite. He’s stopped watching. Oh, oh. His balls have pulled up. That was fast. He’s getting close to the point of no return_. 

_Ooooo…this is starting to feel a bit too good. I need to focus on her now. I’m getting too close._

“Too much, too soon,” Benedict gasped, suddenly pushing her hand away. “I need a break. Let me take care of you first.” 

_That’ll work. As much as I enjoy giving him pleasure, I do look forward to receiving my share._

“You’ll get no argument from me tonight, I’m so fucking horny!”

Benedict abruptly sat up and gently pushed Donna down onto her back, spreading her legs apart so he could settle himself comfortably in between them. She watched as he nuzzled her pubic hair and spread her lips apart with his hands. 

“There is nothing on earth that excites me more than the scent of my woman when she’s aroused,” he purred in his deep baritone. “I love knowing that I’m the one who caused your sweet juices to flow, and I so need to taste them now.” 

Donna felt his tongue at her entrance. He began to lap at her outer lips, using long, firm strokes, which made her thighs quiver. 

_OH, Ben Honey! Taste away!!_

“You smell delicious when you’re aroused, my Darling. Like pure, unadulterated sex.” 

Donna felt him begin to slowly and deliberately lick her inner folds, causing her to gasp and moan uncontrollably as his tongue darted in between the slickness, searching for her core. Benedict then ran his tongue around her clit and then gently slipped the tip of his tongue beneath the hood. Donna had shut her eyes in order to concentrate on the intense pleasure he was giving her. 

_To think I was worried about not liking this. How wrong I was!_

“Good, Darling?” he asked. “Are you okay?” 

“Yes. Do what you did Thursday night. That was awesome.” 

Benedict glanced up at her in puzzlement. 

_Do what I did Thursday night. What the fuck did I do Thursday night? I’ve done a lot of different things to her since we’ve been here._

“Erm…can you be more specific, Love?” 

Donna opened an eye and frowned at him. “Do that flicking thing you did. You know.” 

_No. I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking you for fucks sake._

Donna sighed heavily as if annoyed. 

_I’m expected to read her mind apparently._

“That rapid flicking thing you did with your tongue.” 

_OH. That._

“Yes. Of course, Darling.” 

_What a tit I am for forgetting that maneuver. I made her scream, and they rang us from the next room to keep it down._

Benedict began to rapidly flick his tongue over her throbbing core in an up and down motion. He felt Donna put her hands on either side of his head, holding him in place. 

“OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD! That’s it, Ben! Don’t stop!” 

_I couldn’t stop if I bloody well wanted to. I feel like you’d snap my neck if I were to move a millimeter._

“Do the other thing _now_!” she cried. “Please.” 

_The other thing. What other thing?_

Benedict ceased licking and attempted to raise his head. “Erm…I need a bit more information…” 

“DON’T STOP! I’ll lose it!” She pulled his head towards her. 

“I need to know which …” 

“THE OTHER WAY, DAMN IT!” 

_Good thing, she’s not a director. OH. I know. She means back and forth, bless her_. 

Benedict began to flick his tongue rapidly in a back and forth motion over her clit. Donna immediately arched her back. 

“YESSSSSSSSS! THAT’S IT! DO IT THE OTHER WAY!!!!!” 

_Well done me._

“PLEASE! I NEED YOU TO DO IT THE OTHER WAY!!! QUICKLY!!!” 

_Not as well done as I thought._

“BENEDICT!!!!” 

_I think I know what she wants._

Benedict alternated his motions until all he could hear was Donna’s ragged breathing as she continued to hold his head in place. She mumbled something unintelligible and sighed deeply. He gently sucked on her clit, causing her to scream his name. 

"BENEDICT! YES!"

_My jaw is starting to hurt. I hope she comes soon_. 

“Benedict, do what you do with your fingers…I’m right there. I just need you to…oh…now…please!” 

_Bloody hell! I do a lot of things with my fingers. She is no Lyndsey Turner._

“Do you want my fingers inside you, Donna?” 

“YES!” 

“Whatever you desire, Darling; but you need to let go of my head.” 

Donna released her grip and began to stimulate her nipples. 

_Ahhhhhhhh…that’s much better. At least she’s capable of taking direction._

Donna paused to pull at Benedict’s hand and positioned it the way she knew would bring her to climax. “Like this!” she cried. “Oh my fucking God! Yes. Yes. Yes. Like that.” 

_She should have just done that in the first place. YEOW! What the fuck!_

“DONNA! You’re pulling my hair – the _wrong_ way!” 

“SHUSH! I’m almost there! Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!” 

_Perhaps holding the sides of my head is preferable to this – FUCK – that hurts!!! This is as bad as when my godson pulls my hair!  
_

“I just need a little rubbing…with your two fingers,” she gasped, moving his fingers so he could roll her clit between his thumb and index finger. “That’s it!” 

Donna’s eyes were shut tightly, mouth frozen open as she gasped and arched her back. She began to grind against Benedict’s hand as the warm, intense tingling began to spread throughout her groin and her climax consumed her. He felt her body quivering and inserted one finger in order to stimulate her G-spot. 

_She was very quiet this time. I know she came, I could feel the contractions around my finger_. 

Benedict waited until Donna had stilled and moved up to lie beside her. He licked her juices off his fingers and took a tissue to blot his mouth and chin dry. Then he smoothed her damp hair back off her face and watched as she exhaled slowly and opened her eyes to regard him with a smile of contentment. 

“I love you, Benedict. Hold me, please,” she asked softly. 

Benedict drew her into his arms and kissed her tenderly. 

“Thank you. That was very, very nice.” 

“It can be even _nicer_. Can I interest you in another?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. 

Donna Saint James laughed and rolled Benedict Cumberbatch onto his back. 

“Oh, I’m always interested.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I'm once again poking fun at my own neurotic packing/unpacking. I do love those ziploc bags with the labels that I can write on. To be fair, it does alert the family as to what's soiled and what isn't. ;-D
> 
> 2\. I've never eaten Marmite, so my description is based on what I've read. 
> 
> 3\. Benedict did state in an interview that he was fond of foie gras.
> 
> 4\. I will no longer be posting notes with warnings about explicit sex in future chapters. Benedict and Donna are going to be having sex, and most of what I'll be writing in future chapters will be on the explicit side. I've used the proper A03 Code for explicit, so I shouldn't have to do this.


	92. Chapter 92

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 8 of Cornwall: Benedict and Donna continue their adult playtime and end their visit on a high note. Wanda and Timothy have a waffling, heated discussion. Benedict and Donna plan on how to deal with the Neil and Toni Show. 
> 
> Note: I’ll be using ********* to depict things happening at the same time

 

Donna Saint James took hold of Benedict Cumberbatches’ partially engorged penis and massaged him through his foreskin, eliciting soft moans from his cupids bow lips. His breathing had become even more rapid as he grew harder in her hand. 

_Benedict certainly bounces back quickly. He did say his foreskin was especially sensitive. How can women be turned off by it? He gets so much pleasure out of my touching him there._

“Take me in your mouth, Donna…talk to me…that way you did that night when we were in the soaking tub…I want to touch you while you go down on me.” 

_All at the same time? That’s a tough one, Benedict. I can manage two out of three.  
_

“I love how hard you are,” hummed Donna, positioning herself so her backside was facing him. “I love how thick and red you get. I love to feel your massive manhood throbbing in my hand.” 

_Massive? Did she just refer to my peen as massive?  
_

“Who in the fuck are you talking about?” rasped Benedict from behind her. “Me massive? Hardly!” he snorted. 

_Okay. Perhaps that was overdoing the sexy talk a bit._

“ I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I thought you wanted me to talk sexy to you.” 

Benedict repositioned her hand and moved her fingers up and down over his frenulum. “I do, and I _really_ don’t mind if you want to refer to me as massive. It’s a lovely ego boost even if it isn’t true,” he sighed. 

“You’re the perfect size as far as I’m concerned, Ben Honey!” 

Donna planted a teasing kiss on his glans and lapped at the pearl of semen that had oozed from the slit. 

“And you use every inch…” 

She planted several butterfly kisses along his shaft, as he moaned and fisted the sheets. 

“… to the best of your ability…” 

Donna kissed her way back up his shaft, and sucked the head of his cock hard, causing him to gasp from the intensity of the pleasurable feelings it caused. 

“…which is fucking amazing.” 

_Wow, he just got even harder. Behold the power of the spoken word.  
_

Donna ran the tip of her tongue under his foreskin causing him to groan and grip the sheets even tighter than he had been. 

“I can’t wait to feel you enter me, and we become one,” she purred. 

Benedict let go of the sheets and reached out to caress her backside. “So lovely,” he murmured. “So very, very lovely you are.” 

“You have no idea how sexy you are, Benedict.” 

“I’m not,” he scoffed. “But you make me feel like I am,” he added wistfully. “You make me feel so…so…sexy…yeah. I love having sex with you.” 

“Trust me. You are very, _very_ sexy.” Donna tickled his ginger pubic hair with her nose and blew gently on it. “Do you like that?” 

“Mmmmm. I like it all,” Benedict sighed as he further stiffened. “Jesus. I’m not going to last long at this rate. I don’t know what’s gotten into me.” 

_Perhaps it’s because I haven’t indulged in any intimate activity since I’ve been sick. All that pent-up desire is waiting to be released._

“Do you want to come in my mouth?” Donna asked tentatively. 

_Hmmm…do I want to come in your mouth? What a question to ask a man!   Of course I do, just not tonight. I’d much rather finish inside her this time._

“NO!” he said gruffly. “Inside you…I want…I need to see us joined…it’s the most extraordinary sight. Just bring me to the brink of climax one last time.” 

_I can do that. As long as he gives me enough warning so he doesn’t shoot his load on me like he did last week. He did seem to enjoy it that though._

Donna took him in as far as she could without setting off her gag reflex and began to suck him while cupping and stroking his balls tenderly. He suddenly stopped kneading her butt cheeks and reached around to grope her mound. Donna felt him delve his fingertip into her wetness and begin to caress her already-sensitive clit. 

_It’s so hard to concentrate when we touch each other at the same time. I’m trying to give him pleasure, and yet I want to enjoy what he’s doing to me; and ooooohhhhhh do I enjoy what he’s doing to me right now! Ahhhhhh!  
_

_She’s dripping wet again. I wonder if she’s close. I certainly am. Perhaps this wasn’t the best idea. I can’t concentrate on her as much as I want to. Christ, this is nirvana. Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck! That last suck almost…wait. Jesus, NO!  
_

Donna felt an urgent tapping on her bottom. 

_Why is he tapping me like that?  
_

“STOP!” he cried. “I’m ready.” 

_Oh! He’s ready to come, but I’m not. Shame on me. I’m being greedy now. I’ve had my turn. This is for his pleasure._

Donna ceased touching Benedict, and rose up onto her knees as she turned to face him. His upper body was damp with perspiration and his breathing had become labored. He opened his eyes and looked at her through his long, ginger lashes, chest heaving. 

“Top or bottom?” he breathed. 

“Whichever gives you more pleasure, Ben Honey.” 

_No contest! Missionary it is! I love being on top! I love being the dominant one!_

“On your back then,” he growled, sitting up and quickly positioning her where he had just been lying. 

The sheet felt damp from Benedict’s sweat as Donna lay on her back, knees raised and legs spread apart. The strong scent of musk that emanated from both of them filled her nostrils. Benedict retrieved the lube and squirted some into the palm of her hand, which she warmed and coated his penis with. He took himself in hand and rubbed his throbbing cock against her vulva and moist folds, eyes dark with lust. 

“Oh, that feels amazing, Ben,” cried Donna, pushing against him. “Just enter me now.” 

_I think I can hold out a bit longer. Let me try and bring her to orgasm._

“Soon, Love. Be patient.” 

Benedict kept up the teasing until he felt a tightening at the base of his spine and tingling in his lower back. 

_OH, motherfucker does that feel good. I can’t hold out as long as I thought._

“Erm…I’m very close,” he whispered. “Give me a minute to calm down.” 

Donna felt a droplet of sweat fall from his forehead onto her nose.

_How suave was that, Benedict? You just dripped sweat onto your lover, you dolt.  
_

_Eeewwww…it’s starting to roll down my nose. I bet I look real sexy now.  
_

Benedict unceremoniously wiped his hand across his forehead and then blotted the sweat off Donna’s nose with his thumb. 

“I want to feel your body on top of mine,” said Donna. “Will you lie on me?” 

Benedict carefully lowered himself onto Donna, so she could feel his weight. His body was warm and damp with sweat, as was hers. 

_Oh fuck! What’s a little sweat between lovers. He could care less, so why should I. I love this closeness._

“Mmmmm…Benedict.” 

“Too much?” he asked with concern. 

“Surprisingly, no,” Donna replied, hugging him tight and squeezing his buttocks. “This is nice.” 

_It may not be too much for you, my darling; but it is for me. This full body contact is having the opposite affect from calming me down.  
_

“I need to be inside you now, Donna. Every time I brush against you, is pulling me closer to the edge.” Benedict lifted himself off of her so as to rest his weight on his elbows and forearms. “Guide me in,” he commanded with urgency. “Now!” 

Donna reached out and brought him to her entrance. He slowly pushed himself inside of her until she was filled. Donna saw him look down at where they were joined and smile dreamily at her. She reached up and touched his cheek. 

“I love how we fit together,” Donna smiled at him.

His voice sounded a bit hoarse. “It’s a perfect fit,” he agreed. 

_I wish I wouldn’t get so fucking emotional every time I penetrate her. This is so unlike me. I’m getting all soppy again. I hate that._

_I love how he isn’t afraid to show his feelings in bed. I can see tears in his eyes._

“Make love to me, Ben Honey.” 

Benedict began to move in and out of her slowly, using shallow strokes. As his level of arousal quickly intensified, he began to move faster. He felt Donna wrap her legs around his waist enabling him to thrust deeper. He leaned close in order to kiss her, their tongues swirling around each other. Donna was enjoying the closeness and loving feelings but soon realized that her arousal level was nowhere near that of her lover’s. 

“Hold me tight, Donna!” Benedict cried, moving even faster. 

Donna embraced him tightly as he shifted his angle slightly. His penis was now tantalizingly brushing against her clit as he moved in and out. Her body tensed as the pinpoint of pleasure began to intensify. 

“Hold me, Donna!” 

“I _am_ holding you!” 

_“Tighter!”_ he growled in her ear. 

Donna hugged him as tightly as she could. 

_For fucks sake! She’s going to crush my ribs!_

“That’s _too_ tight!” he grunted.   

“Sorry.” 

Both of them soon found themselves on the verge of climax. Donna moved her hips against his pubic bone in order to gain the friction she needed. Each thrust was providing her with exquisite sensations. She grabbed onto Benedict’s buttocks and pulled him as close as she could to her, squeezing his plump cheeks. 

_This feels so motherfucking amazing. I don’t want it to stop. I wish I could last longer._

“You feel so incredibly soft inside, Donna. I fucking love that feeling,” breathed Benedict against her ear. “I love you so much…this feels so good.” 

“I love how you fill me, Ben Honey. I can feel your love when we’re together like this,” she panted in return. 

_I can’t believe we have actual conversations during sex. Do other people?_

“Are you close, Donna?   I’m right on the edge.” 

“Yes, but I need more time.” 

“I’m not going to last much longer. I’m…I’m…ahhhhh…AHHHHHHH FUCK!” 

“Just let go and enjoy the ride, Benedict.” 

Benedict felt himself slipping into oblivion as his orgasm enveloped him. His toes curled and his body shuddered from the sheer intensity of it. Donna felt the warmth of his seed as he ejaculated, and reached down to lightly caress his balls. He buried his face against her neck as he shivered from the strong waves of pleasure that washed over him. 

_That article in Cosmo said men like having their balls caressed while they ejaculate. It increases their pleasure._

“Donna…I…what in the hell are you doing?” Benedict groaned, as he partially rested his weight on top of her. “That feels….feels…so …fucking….incredible….so intense….I …fucking… love you.” 

_He likes it! Cosmo was right again. Thank you, Sarah, for getting me that subscription for Christmas! I owe you!_

“Do you love me, Donna?” he asked, voice choked with emotion. 

“Of course I do! I love you more than anything!” 

Benedict opened his eyes and covered Donna’s face with wet, sloppy kisses. 

“I love you my darling, darling Donna. How I love you so.” He rolled off of her and lay panting on his side, obviously spent. “I’ve never been touched like that during ejaculation. That was sheer genius.” 

_I’m going to ache if he doesn’t give me some release soon. I want to rut against him in the worst way._

Donna reached for Benedict’s hand and shoved it in between her legs, moving his fingers to the position she craved. 

“I’m going to combust if I don’t come! You need to finish what you started, Benedict.” 

_I’m exhausted, but I need to be a gentleman and take care of her. I can’t leave her wanting like that.  
_

Benedict took a deep breath and nodded as he fondled her clit and applied pressure where she needed it. It didn’t take long for Donna to reach her second climax of the night. She closed her eyes and cried out, body trembling as the contractions consumed her. 

“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!   Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” 

Benedict waited until Donna had stilled and come down from her orgasmic high. She opened her hazel eyes and looked at him. 

“How was that for a guy who’s been sick?” he asked with a smug expression. 

“You done good, Mr. Cumberbatch,” she grinned at him. “Very, very, very good.” 

“I can do _better_ ,” smirked Benedict. “Fancy having a go at one more?”

 Donna smiled widely at him as she beckoned him over to kiss her. She draped her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply and thoroughly until Benedict felt light-headed. 

“What about you? Are _you_ game for another round?” 

Benedict kissed her nose. “Yeah…of course I am; but I’ll need some time to recover.” 

“I’m not in a hurry. We’ve got all night to play,” she reached down and lightly grazed her nails along his inner thighs. 

“You never answered my question, Donna. Shall I put my dirty-minded text finger back to work then?” 

“There’s nothing better than a triple play, Ben Honey. I’d be crazy to refuse such an offer. Tell your dirty-minded text finger to get busy.” 

 

 

 

Donna Saint James stood at the vanity in her London apartment about to apply her moisturizer when Benedict stepped out of the shower and began to towel himself off with a large bath sheet. 

“I really fancy this heated towel rack,” he mused as he briskly rubbed the towel over his naked body. “It’s better than warming the towels in the dryer first. They never retain the heat for long.” 

“I loved the heated floor tiles they had in the Nare’s bathroom,” said Donna, pouring out a few drops of liquid into the palm of her hand. 

“There’s nothing worse than bare feet on a cold tile floor in the morning,” quipped Benedict, taking a hand towel and rubbing it over his hair in order to remove most of the excess water. 

_Did I just help myself to another towel? I’m getting just like her with the towels, which is terrifying._

“That’s true,” agreed Donna, rubbing the moisturizer into her skin. 

“Even though you’ve got this bath mat on the floor, I can still feel the cold seeping through,” continued Benedict, putting on the blue terry cloth robe he had left at Donna’s. 

“You’d love my bathroom in New York. It has heated floor tiles, a heated towel rack and a heat lamp in the ceiling.” 

“That does sound divine. It must have been pretty pricey,” mused Benedict. “May I ask how much that cost?” 

Donna shrugged. “I have no idea. The house came with them. Carly’s apartment has them, too.” 

“We’ll have to remember these details should we ever redo a bathroom together. It really makes all the difference.” 

Benedict discarded the used towels in the hamper and joined Donna at the vanity. He opened what he now considered his side of the medicine cabinet and removed a can of shaving cream and his razor. As he went to set down his razor, he realized there was no room. Benedict stared in fascination at the vanity top. Donna had managed to cover the entire area with makeup containers and all sorts of implements. He noted that all the items had been lined up with great precision. 

_What the fuck. Where in the hell am I supposed to put my things? She’s taken up the whole damn top! Double sinks will be a must if we ever redo a bathroom._

“Bloody fucking hell, Donna! You’ve got all your makeup tools displayed on here like you were a bloody surgeon about to cut a body open!” he cackled. “What do you need all this shit for?” 

Donna fixed him with a look as if he were crazy. 

“I need _all_ this stuff,” she insisted. “You wear makeup for work, so you should be familiar with everything here.” 

“Yeah. Some of it,” Benedict replied, taking the hairdryer and plugging it into the wall socket. “Surely you don’t use _all_ of this, do you?” he asked, helping himself to some of her hair gel and working it into his damp hair. “That’s quite an array you’ve got there,” he observed with a bemused smile on his face. 

_This is the first time he’s seen me apply my makeup from the start. I always use the bathroom before him when we have sleep overs and while we were away…except that one morning when we showered together. I didn’t need makeup that day. We spent the whole day in bed._

“I use each and every one of these products.” 

“What in God’s name for?” 

_Really? I thought she hardly wore any makeup.  
_

_He’s got that amused expression on his face like he’s going to have a laughing fit._

“To make myself as attractive as possible.” 

“I’ve seen you sans makeup, and you’re absolutely gorgeous as far as I’m concerned.” 

“I appreciate the complement, Benedict. That was very sweet.” 

“I wasn’t trying to be sweet – just truthful. So exactly what do we have here?” 

Donna began to rattle off what she had set out on the vanity top. “Moisturizer, eye cream, foundation, concealer, eye shadow base, eye shadows, eye liner, eyelash primer…” 

Benedict quickly dried his hair, using his fingers to comb it back off his forehead. Donna watched as the errant curls fell forward, causing him to sigh with disgust. He switched off the hairdryer and regarded her through the mirror. 

“Eyelash primer?” 

“Yes. It ensures the mascara goes on smoothly.” 

“Oh.” 

“… the long black tube is my mascara and that little comb is used to separate my lashes so they don’t clump…” 

“Wouldn’t the primer serve that purpose yes?” 

“Yes and no.” 

_Time to shut up, Benedict. You are out of your comfort zone. Hmmm…I wonder what this one is._

Benedict reached out and plucked the next tool off the vanity top. He eyed it with curiosity as he opened and closed the scissors-like contraption. 

“This…erm… implement… looks akin to a torture device.” 

“That’s an eyelash curler. I never leave the house without using it.” 

“You don’t need one. You’ve got naturally lush lashes.” 

_Bless his little heart. The makeup is doing its job after all._

“Thanks to the eyelash primer, mascara and eyelash curler, I do!” giggled Donna. “Then there’s my eyebrow pencil, blush, lip liner, lipstick and finally my lip gloss.” 

_Bloody hell. Olivia wore eyeliner, mascara, blush and lip gloss. Anna wore a bit more. My Darling Donna wears the entire makeup counter. Perhaps I would be wise to invest in some MAC stock._

“As you can see,” continued Donna breezily. “I’ve got brushes and sponges next to each to speed up the application.” 

_No way in hell is this a speedy application. I bet she takes a good hour or more to do all this. I know it takes them at least half hour to apply simple makeup to my face._

“Blimey. I hadn’t a clue you wore all that crap every day!” chortled Benedict. “All this time, I thought you hardly wore any makeup at all.” 

Donna frowned at him and raised an eyebrow. 

_Shit. She’s trying to make up her mind as to whether I’m poking fun at her or not. I am, of course – how can I not? I’ve seen her without it, and I can barely tell the difference. The eye shadow of course, I can tell; but some of that other stuff.  
_

“What I meant is that you always look so natural…in a nice way, of course. You don’t look obviously made up – sometimes women’s makeup winds up looking harsh and mask-like. Did I explain myself properly?” 

_I really hope I did. I don’t fancy having a row over motherfucking makeup.  
_

_He means I have a light touch when applying it._

Donna nodded and smiled. “Yes. I think I know what you mean. You mean that I don’t look as if I’m wearing any makeup.” 

Benedict nodded. “Yeah. That is exactly what I meant.” 

_Now I’ll keep my fingers crossed that was the correct response.  
_

“It was a compliment,” he added as he crinkled his nose and smiled at her. 

Donna nodded again and smiled. “Excellent! That’s the look I’m aiming for!” 

_She wears all that shit on her face so she won’t look as if she’s wearing any. There are some things about women that I’ll never understand. Anyway, row has been successfully averted. Brilliant!_

_Don’t be a vanity hog, Donna. Give the man some room to put down his toiletries. It’s all about compromise._

“You’re a very dear man, Ben Honey. Let me move some of this over so you’ll have room for you stuff.” 

_Ah, there’s nothing like compromise, even though I find it exhausting at times. Sometimes I wonder how Mum and Dad managed to make it work all those years together.  
_

****************************************************

  

Wanda Ventham and Timothy Carlton had finished their breakfast of scrambled eggs with smoked salmon and toasted crumpets with orange marmalade in relative silence. The only sound was that of the rain hitting the window pane in their small kitchen in Kensington. 

“Fancy another coffee, Tim?” Wanda asked her husband as she got to her feet. 

Timothy stared at her with a furrowed brow over the rim of his beaker. He seemed lost in thought and did not look particularly happy. 

“Tim? Are you with me?” 

“Oh, I’m with you alright,” he replied in a haughty tone. 

_He’s stropy. I suppose he has every right to be after what I just told him, but still…_

“Well, do you fancy another coffee or not?” Wanda asked, hands on hips. “It wasn’t a difficult question.” 

Timothy sighed, drained his beaker and handed it across the table to her. “I’d adore a refill, thank you.” 

Wanda went to the counter and poured them both another beaker full. “I’m glad I let Judi talk me into buying this new dark roast Kenyan coffee, even though it is rather pricey. It has such a nice, rich flavour, don’t you agree?” 

Timothy sat stoically, staring into space. 

“I must remember to give Ben some to try the next time he comes around. What do you think?” 

“I think you need to not take Una’s advice. That’s what I really think.” 

_I sense he’s about to elaborate on what he really thinks._

Wanda returned to the table and sat Timothy’s beaker in front of him. She took her customary seat across from him and added some cream and sugar to hers. 

_Maybe not. He’s waiting for me to say something. Hells bells._

Wanda studied her beaker as if it were the most interesting thing in the world as she stirred the coffee and took a small sip. 

“You have nothing to say then, Wanda?” 

_Hells bells! He does want me to say something. I hate when he expects me to go first. I always manage to say the wrong thing_. 

Wanda spread her hands. “What is there to say, Tim? Una pleaded with me to tell Benedict everything about the plan, and I promised her I would.” 

Timothy sipped his coffee and continued to regard his wife of thirty-three years with a raised eyebrow. 

“There’s plenty to say starting with why on earth would you allow Una to steer you into such dangerous waters?” 

“I already gave her my word,” began Wanda. 

“Bullshit,” retorted Timothy. “You’re going to sit there and tell me that you’re prepared to go down with the ship, Commander? I sure as hell am not. Not after all we’ve been through!” 

“She made perfect sense at the time, Tim.” 

“Maybe so, but do you realize there will be dire consequences if you tell him all about the plan?” 

“Una said…” 

Timothy banged his fist on the table causing the plates and silverware to clatter and Wanda to jump. 

“I don’t care what Una said! Una isn’t involved as deeply as we are!” he bellowed angrily. 

“But Tim, surely you can see how difficult it’s getting to keep the stories straight, not to mention we keep slipping up. Benedict’s not stupid by any means. He knows there is something going on. He just hasn’t figured it out yet, but he’s bound to sooner or later, which you used to delight in pointing out to me.” 

“That was then and this is now. Things change. So far we’ve done an admirable job of covering our tracks. We must keep practicing diligence.” 

“So far,” repeated Wanda sarcastically. “My God, Tim! How your tune has changed over the past several months! I can’t believe we’ve adopted each other’s stances on this situation! Una pointed out that one day one of us is going to make a major slip – or Donna for that matter or Tracy even! Una thinks it’s our duty to tell Benedict for the sake of salvaging our relationship.” 

“Well, I heartily disagree!” insisted Timothy vehemently. “Benedict is not her son, and she has nothing to lose should he be told. If we tell him, there will be no relationship left to salvage – for us or Donna Saint James!” 

“Benedict will be angry at first, of course…” 

“Angry is putting it mildly,” sneered Timothy. “Do you recall the time when he and Olivia were on one of their many breaks and you took it upon yourself to arrange that romantic little make up dinner at Bumpkin in Notting Hill?” 

Wanda nodded vigorously. “I was so damned chuffed with myself. I had them both thinking the other one had set it up." 

Timothy sat back and crossed his long legs. “Yes, it was quite the flawless plan, except you hadn’t counted on them questioning each other about it.” 

“Damn Barrister Ben! He always has so many questions. Our son can never just take anything at face value.” 

“And he never will, Pet. That was the longest break in their relationship.” 

Wanda nodded. “They had been estranged for almost a year. I thought for sure Ben was going to be so over the moon to think that Olivia had made the first move that he would have just shut up and soldiered on with business as usual.” 

“Did you actually think Olivia was going to jump into his arms without asking him what motivated him to suddenly apologize after all that time had passed?” 

Wanda drank some coffee. “Yes. I did. And before you say anything else, I really did think they would have found a way to work it out even when they found out I was the catalyst.” 

“Some catalyst you turned out to be,” scoffed Timothy. “Olivia wound up tossing her drink in Ben’s face, and she stomped out leaving him with a hefty bill for the uneaten steaks they had ordered.” 

“And she stomped right over here to tell me off,” said Wanda sadly. “She didn’t speak to me for months after that.” 

“I didn’t blame her. That took real bollocks to do what you did.” 

Wanda sighed. “I remember Ben stormed in soon after she had left.” 

“I’ve never seen him so angry,” lamented Timothy. “I thought for sure that was going to cause a permanent rift between you two.” 

“He yelled so loudly the glass in the windows shook. Not one of our happier family moments.” 

“It was quite the scene,” commented Timothy. “I remember Doug and Penny came upstairs to see what had happened.” 

“And then Ben finally stopped yelling. He didn’t speak to me for almost three weeks.” 

“He only stopped because he lost his voice from yelling. His doctor said he had strained his vocal cords.” 

“At least he only held a grudge for three weeks. It had blown over by the time he got his voice back.” 

Timothy shook his head. “I’m sorry, Love; but that’s not the way it happened. Ben didn’t come around for a good two months after that, and you were despondent because of it. I finally had to go up to Hampstead and make the peace on your behalf, and it took the better part of an afternoon and three gin and tonics to talk him around.” 

Wanda began to stack their dishes in order to clear the table. Timothy reached out to take her forearm to prevent her from getting up. 

“I’m not finished yet.” 

_Of course he isn’t, bless him. Silly me to think I would get off that easy. Perhaps I can short-circuit his speech. I’ll say those words he so loves to hear me say._

“You’re right, of course, Tim. I had no right to meddle.” 

_My wife is trying to cut this short by agreeing. Has the woman not realized that I’ve caught on to her little trick by now?  
_

“And yet you continued to do so right up to and including the plan, which I am also up to my neck in.” 

_He’s going to have his say now._

“No one forced you to join forces with me, Timothy Cumberbatch.” 

Timothy held up his hand. “True, true. However, things are slightly different now.” 

Wanda looked puzzled. “What’s changed then?” 

“Benedict is in love with Donna Saint James. He’s serious about her. She’s the one he wants to marry and have a family with.” 

“I know that; but he also felt the same way about Olivia.” 

“Yes, he did at one time. However, the difference is that Donna feels the same way about him. She wants to marry our son, make a home with him and most importantly, have his children. She’s told us so herself. Olivia wanted to marry Ben in the beginning of their relationship; but things changed as time went on. I also don’t believe that she ever wanted to have children with him or anybody else for that matter. She’s certainly not in a relationship now that I know of. Unless you’ve heard something to the contrary? You always know the latest gossip making the rounds.” 

“Olivia’s set on making her career a priority, even though she is still seeing that actor, Roger...I forget his surname,” confided Wanda. “And that’s not idle gossip. She told me so that day we met for a coffee in Mayfair two weeks ago.” 

_I wonder how Donna would feel about my wife still being chummy with Benedict’s ex? I think she would be jealous as fuck, not that I would blame her._

“For the sake of repeating myself: if you tell Benedict that Donna was part of the plan, he’ll break it off with her and disown us. And there is no doubt in my mind that this time, the estrangement will be permanent. We can preserve the integrity of the plan, Commander; but we will have to keep constant vigilance and work extremely hard at it. This goes for Donna as well. It is paramount that she be careful as she’ll be living in the thick of it with him. It won’t be easy, but once they’re married and settled, Benedict will forget about all his suspicions.” 

“I certainly hope so,” said Wanda in a small voice. “He could still find out years later.” 

“I think it’s doubtful at best. He’ll be too involved in his work and his family. We will all reap the benefits from their union.   Now, I ask you, Wanda, do you really want to go through life never seeing or speaking to your son again? Do you want to see Benedict not married to the love of his life? Do you want to see him never become a father? Do you want me to never experience the joy of grandchildren of my own?” 

Wanda looked across the table at her husband as the tears fell from her ice blue eyes. “Of course not, Tim! I want nothing more than for Benedict to be settled and for us to have grandchildren from his marriage to Donna. I don’t know what came over me. I allowed Una to sway me.” 

“Una obviously feels very strongly about this, but she doesn’t get submerged in the day-to-day like we do. She’s been a good friend to you all these years; but in the end, she’s still an outsider looking in.” 

Wanda wiped the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand. “What in the hell was I thinking?” 

_There’s always trouble when they start thinking._

“Look, Wanda. What we’ve done is wrong. There is no getting around it. We can justify it to ourselves all we want, but the bottom line is we did some first class meddling in our son’s love life. The only thing that might save our sorry arses is the fact that Ben did meet Donna on his own; and that is a big if.” 

“I hate that I feel so torn. What would you do if you were in my shoes?” 

“Sorry, but the choice is yours, Pet.” 

Wanda sat back in her chair and tucked her hair behind her ears. 

“I want Benedict to have his happily ever after at all costs. We’ll continue to try and keep the secret as we have been, Agent Carlton.” 

Timothy Carlton raised his beaker towards Wanda. She picked up hers and raised it towards his. 

“To the Preservation of the Plan,” she said. 

They clinked beakers and finished the last dregs of their coffee. Timothy wiped his lips on his serviette and smiled at her with obvious relief. 

“Welcome back to the dark side, Commander.” 

 

*********************************************

  

“These waffles are very tasty,” declared Benedict as he forked up another bite. “They taste like malt.” 

“That’s because they’re malted waffles,” said Donna as she took a seat beside him at the breakfast bar. “I just added some malt powder to the batter.” 

“Is this poultry sausage? It doesn’t take like pork to me,” he commented. 

Donna nodded as she buttered her waffle. “These are chicken sausages with apple and sage. The apple bits keep the meat juicy as chicken tends to be on the dry side.” 

“What are your plans for today?” 

“I’ll be at the Tribune until lunchtime. Then Carly and I are meeting with Mark Gatiss at Carldonn to discuss the catering proposal…” 

_Ah, I had forgotten about that. Here’s hoping Steve Moffat had the good common sense to turn it down.  
_

“Then it’s back to the Tribune for a staff meeting. The editor also wants to meet with me alone afterwards to discuss my column.” 

Benedict frowned at her. “Nothing bad I hope.” 

“Oh, no! Nothing like that. He was very happy with my column on Gastro Week. This meeting is to discuss the direction he wants the column to take in the future.” 

“Ah. At least it doesn’t sound ominous.” 

“Only good things as far as I know.” 

Benedict drained the contents of his beaker. “Fancy some more tea?” 

Donna nodded as she ate the perfect bite of waffle and sausage. She added a bit more of the warm maple syrup to her waffle and cut into it. 

“You make the best tea, Benedict.” 

“Compared to whom?” 

“Me, for one.” 

Benedict filled the two beakers with English Breakfast tea from the white china teapot that was covered with red poppies. “That’s not particularly hard to do,” he quipped. 

_Even though he gave me explicit lessons on how to brew tea, he still makes sure he beats me to it whenever we have it._

“I wish you’d give me a chance to show you what I’ve learned from you.” 

“I already did, and you were _fabulous_ last night,” he purred in her ear as he came up behind her, pausing to nibble on her earlobe. 

“I’m not talking about last night, even though I agree that it was _fabulous_ ,” smiled Donna, leaning back against him so she could kiss his chin. “I was talking about making tea.” 

“Well, _I_ was talking about what went on in your boudoir last night,” Benedict said, setting the beakers beside their plates. “I’ve never been more satisfied in bed. Ever.” 

_Gosh, how I love his positive reinforcement. I love knowing that I please him so much._

Donna blushed. “I’m very happy that I make you happy.” 

“Yeah. You do,” Benedict said kissing her hard. “I’m so over the moon, I can’t stop smiling.” 

“I’ve noticed.” 

“And it’s all because of you, Love.” 

“You’re making me blush, Benedict.” 

“That’s the idea.” 

Donna reached out and brushed back his errant curl. “You are absolutely the best lover I’ve ever had, Mr. Cumberbatch. You have awakened me sexually. I’m doing things with you that I never did with the others. I feel comfortable being naked around you, I’m no longer ad versed to making love with a light on, we actually have conversations during sex…and I can’t believe that I’m sitting here talking to you about it as if we were discussing which movie to see.” 

Benedict smiled at her and kissed the back of her hand tenderly. “Being able to talk about these things freely is paramount to having an enjoyable time in bed.” 

“I had no idea what I was missing. I used to worry that I was frigid.” 

“That’s because none of them took the time to find out what you did and didn’t fancy in bed. I won’t go as far as to say that they didn’t love you as I don’t know any of them personally. However, from all you’ve told me, it seems to me that their skills were sorely lacking; and they were quick to take their own pleasure.” 

“They were all loving relationships at the time. Danny was every bit as inexperienced as I was. Michael was just…set in his ways. It was missionary or nothing. And Roy…well…he was perpetually in a hurry to get back to whatever case he was working on, so sex was always quick. Supposedly they loved me,” mused Donna. “Anyway, it no longer matters” she said with a wave of her hand. 

“They are three dickheads who obviously didn’t know or care how to make love to a woman properly.” 

“Well, you certainly have proven many times over that you do.” 

“Now, you’re making me blush.” 

“That’s the idea.” 

Benedict finished his waffle and sausages. “It’s just about time for me to take my leave. I’ve got so many places I have to be today that my head is spinning.” 

“Such as?” 

“Van Gogh and _Sherlock_ costume fittings. They were supposed to be on separate days, but my getting sick fucked that up nicely. Then I’ve got lunch with my agent, so we can discuss our strategy for _After the Dance_ and some other projects he wants me to consider. After lunch, I’ve got a meeting with the director of _Wreckers_. Then I’m meeting Karon, who will undoubtedly smack my wrists over some faux pas or another that I did. After that, I can finally go home and die peacefully from exhaustion,” he laughed. 

“Any chance I can talk you into meeting me for dinner somewhere?” 

Benedict shook his head as he and Donna brought their empty dishes over to the dishwasher and loaded them. 

“Not a chance. I’ve got too much to do, and I’ll be so knackered by the time I’m done that I’ll only want to fall into bed.”

“How about if I come over and cook for you? Then you can fall into bed with me. I can stay the night.” 

“That sounds very tempting, Darling.” 

“Great. Then that’s settled. How does linguine with red clam sauce sound?” 

“It sounds delicious; but I’ve got no food in the flat and no time to go around to the shops to lay some in.” 

“I’ll do it! I’ll buy what I need when I get to Hampstead.” 

“Just let me know what it costs, and I’ll reimburse you.” 

Donna waved him away. “We’re in a committed relationship now. It’s time for us to dispense with the accounting for every penny – pence – that we spend in situations like this.” 

“Agreed,” said Benedict. “Makes perfect sense. Do you have enough clean clothes at my place or do you need me to bring some back with me?” 

Donna crossed her arms and fixed him with a look. 

_Is he kidding me? I washed my stuff before I left that morning._

_Silly me for even allowing such a stupid thought to cross my mind. Of course she does, bless her. Miss Girl Scout is always prepared for all eventualities._

“You know, after being together for almost two weeks, the thought of sleeping alone seems…” 

“MOTHERFUCKER!” Benedict slammed the dishwasher shut. 

“Hey! That’s Marco’s dishwasher you’re mistreating!” 

“As much as I was looking forward to spending a nice, quiet evening with you, I’ve got to drop by my parents flat so I can tell them about your parents visit.” 

Donna grimaced as she followed Benedict down the hallway. He went into the bathroom, flipped up the toilet seat, unzipped his trousers and began to urinate. She stopped at the doorway and remained outside, facing the bedroom.   

_Jeez Louise! That’s what I get for following him like a puppy._

“I had forgotten about that for the moment. I suppose you do need to prepare them. It’s only fair.” 

_What I wouldn’t give to be a fly on that wall when he tells them. Though my honey has a big mouth and will tell me all the gory details._

“I’ve been giving this a lot of thought, Donna; and I think you and I should spend time with them first on Saturday night before adding mine to the mix yes?” 

Donna heard his stream stop followed by the toilet flushing and the sound of the toilet seat being set back down. 

_What about Friday, Benedict? They arrive Friday morning or have you forgotten already?_

“On that you’ll get no argument from me. Did you forget that the get into Heathrow Friday morning at six thirty?” Donna asked gently. “You did tell me you were going to try and clear your schedule, so you’d have the day free.” 

Benedict stood at the sink, washing his hands. Something was tugging at his memory. _  
_

_I do recall saying that, but I don’t recall if I actually did anything about it. Once I got sick, those days were a blur…but there’s something else that doesn’t have to do with work._

“I was hoping we could spend the whole day with them. I know Carly will have coffee and something for them to eat as soon as they arrive because they rarely eat airline food.” 

“I can understand that,” laughed Benedict. “Airline food isn’t exactly haute cuisine. They’ll be famished after that long flight.” 

“Not really. They usually get a sandwich at one of the airport concessions. JFK actually has some decent places in some of their terminals.” 

“Shit. It’s starting to get late, and I have to be in Westminster in half an hour,” said Benedict, dashing out of the bathroom and down the hall to the lounge area. “I don’t mean to be cheeky. What was that you were saying, Darling,” he called back over his shoulder. 

Donna ran into her bedroom and scooped up Benedict’s wallet, keys, cellphone and sunglasses off the dresser and went after him. He was frantically shutting down his laptop and looking around the room, eyes searching for something. 

“Here,” said Donna, holding out his things to him. 

“Ah, you’re a life saver, Love! Thank you!” Benedict said, giving her a sound kiss on her cheek as he shoved his wallet and mobile into his front pockets. “As you were then.” 

“I figured after they get settled in Carly’s extra bedroom, you and I can take them to see that new exhibit at the Tate Modern, followed by a light lunch…” 

Benedict flopped down on the couch and began to stuff his laptop into his messenger bag. He frowned as he paused to think while Donna prattled on about her plans for Friday. 

_Hmmm…there’s a reason why Friday won’t work; but I can’t quite place my finger on what it is. I’m fairly certain I did clear the day though, but not for the express purpose of spending it with her parents.  
_

Benedict pulled his diary out of his messenger bag and began to flip through the pages. He came upon his September calendar and felt a chill creep up his spine as he read the entry for that Friday. 

_Fuckity fuck fuck! Yes! How could I have let that slip my mind? Of all bloody things to have a brain fart over! It’s a damn good thing I thought to check my diary or I would have been in trouble._

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck and gave Donna a disarming smile as he crinkled his nose at her. 

_Oh, oh. There’s the nose crinkle and cute smile. He’s about to deliver news that is going to make me less than happy._

“Erm...I can’t spend the day with your parents. I have a…commitment for Friday that I’m unable to change.” 

_What was I thinking? Of course he has! He’s got work. Benedict was just saying how he had to double up on his commitments because he was sick last week. I can certainly understand that._

“That’s okay, Benedict. I’ll just explain to them that you have to work, and they’ll understand. We can still salvage the evening. The Tate Modern is open late on Friday nights. We’ll see the exhibit and have dinner with them afterwards.” 

_Don’t lie to him, Donna. They won’t understand. I think his being a museum member will impress them. Mom likes modern art. Dad, not so much.  
_

“I’ll call and make a reservation. Maybe we can get that table in the corner. Should I use your name, Benedict?   I’m going to ask for Frederick to be our server. Maybe you should give me your membership card, and I’ll also mention that and…” 

Benedict held up a hand and tucked his diary back inside the messenger bag. 

“It’s not a work commitment, Donna. I’ve got a social function to attend, which is expected to last into the night, I’m afraid.” 

“Like a premiere?” asked Donna excitedly, dropping down beside him on the couch. “Or one of those parties for charities or grand openings that you’re always getting invited to? Maybe this time you could get some extra tickets, and we could all go together?   Oh, I bet my parents would love that!” 

_That will impress Dad, thought he’d never admit it. Mom would love to go to a store launch. She loves shopping._

“Erm…no. It’s a wedding and night do actually,” answered Benedict, rubbing his thigh furiously. 

_Do I see some serious thigh rubbing going on here? Yes, indeed. I do, I do._

Donna looked puzzled. “What’s a night do?” 

“It’s the party that takes place after the wedding.” 

_Oh, a wedding reception. He never said a word about a wedding coming up except for Mark and Juliette’s, but that’s not until January. Why didn’t I know about this? I have nothing to wear! Wait. He hasn’t said ‘we’. He’s talking as if he’s the only one going. I wasn’t invited.  
_

“Who’s getting married?” inquired Donna innocently. “Most of your friends are already married, except for Mark and Juliette.” 

_And why wasn’t I invited? Aren’t partners in committed relationships supposed to be invited to weddings? He told the world once we made the decision to be an official, exclusive, committed couple, so they must have known._

“You don’t know them. My friends, David Birkin and Eloise Fornieles, are getting married Friday afternoon.” 

_Okay. Never heard those names mentioned once since I’ve known him. To be fair he’s got an awful lot of friends that even I find hard to keep track of. However, I do know that these two definitely aren’t in his inner circle.  
_

_I bet she’s going to ask me to cancel on them so I can spend time with her parents. There is no way I can or will back out.  
_

“I can’t very well crap out on them now,” Benedict added defensively. _  
_

_What nerve he has! He’s implying that I’m going to ask him to find a way to get out of going. I would never do such a thing. Sure, I have my selfish moments, but I’d never expect him to cancel something that he’s already committed to – especially a wedding._

“I didn’t ask you to, nor would I expect you to,” interrupted Donna, equally defensively. 

“Good, because I won’t...I can’t possibly change my plans.” 

“How long did you know about this?” 

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck. “I…erm…well…I’m thinking…” _  
_

_Go ahead and think, Benedict. I don’t have to be at the Tribune for another hour. Knock yourself out.  
_

“It’s been planned for a while…since the winter – over six months, at the least…I mean they had to arrange to hire the mine and all.” 

Donna looked momentarily startled. “Did you say the mine?” 

“Yeah. The wedding’s going to take place in a mine shaft.” 

_A mine shaft.  
_

“As in coal mining?” 

Benedict nodded vigourously. “Yeah. In Wales. I think a mine shaft is a very interesting venue to hold a wedding in, yes?” 

“I’m not quite sure ‘interesting’ is the right word.” 

_First wacky and then dirty, damp and cold come to mind. Oh! Wait! Dare I say what just popped into my head? I really shouldn’t. Oh, what the hell.  
_

“Will the seven dwarfs be there?” 

Benedict glared at her, as she covered her mouth to suppress the giggling that had begun. 

“Snarky doesn’t become you, _Sweetheart_.” 

_Oh shit! He doesn’t think that was funny. Get hold of yourself, Donna._

“I’m sorry, Benedict. That’s the Disney in me coming out to play. When I heard mine shaft, my mind automatically went to Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs,” Donna chuckled. “Gosh, if that were me, I’d have a whole Snow White-themed wedding,” she gushed, warming to the topic. “I’d even dress up as Snow White. The wedding song would be ‘Some Day My Prince Will Come’. The wedding cake would be apple spice – you know, like the poisoned apple. Hahahah! The guests can arrive in mine cars – are you getting down there in mine cars?” 

_Now, she’ being a cheeky cow._

“I highly doubt Snow White will be in attendance either,” muttered Benedict, zipping his messenger bag shut. “They’re just getting married in the shaft, not dressing up like bloody coal miners for fucks sake.” 

_Though to be fair, I doubt it will be an ordinary wedding knowing David and Eloise. They do have a penchant for the unusual._

“Promise me you’ll take photos!” 

Benedict nodded absently. “I’m forgetting something.” He glanced around the room. “My script! Where in the hell is my bloody script?” 

“You were reading it last night before you went to sleep. It must be on your night stand.” 

Benedict jumped up and dashed off to retrieve his script. Donna went to stand at the glass wall. She stared out the gray, rainy morning. Across the Thames, Southbank was shrouded in fog. 

_I’ve got to give Wanda a call later and fill her in on what happened in Cornwall with Barrister Ben.  
_

“Found it!” came Benedict’s triumphant voice from behind her. “I just remembered that I’ve got to take my suit to the cleaners for the wedding. Might you have an extra garment bag I could borrow for the trip? Not the flimsy plastic ones, but one of those heavy duty nylon ones.” _  
_

“Yeah. Sure. Let me get it.” _  
_

_Whoa hoa here. Didn’t he say the mine was in Wales? Yes, he did. Wales is not close._

“So, you’re going to Wales on Friday to attend a wedding in a mine shaft.” 

“Yeah. I’m taking the train in the morning, so I don’t have to be bothered with traffic.” 

“You’ll come back Friday night after the reception.” 

_Did I not say there was a night do? What in the hell does she think that means?_

“Heavens no!” guffawed Benedict. “I’ll probably get pissed, and want to have a lie in; so I’ll come back Saturday after lunch in plenty of time to meet your parents for dinner.” 

_And hopefully you won’t be too hung over. Damn it! That’s just what I don’t need – a grumpy, hung over Benedict AND the Neil and Toni show._

“I’ve never heard you mention these people before, Benedict. What do they do? Are they actors, too?” 

_Is this what it’s like when I’m in Barrister Ben mode? If it is, I seriously need to stop doing it. This interrogation is making me bonkers._

“They are avant-garde artists,” replied Benedict haughtily. “Eloise is known for her performance art. David’s works have more of a political slant to them. I guess you’d call their work ‘edgy’...it’s very unique.” 

_Just when I thought I’d be bored tonight. Now, I can look them up online. I need to see what kind of avant-garde art they produce.  
_

“And before you ask, I received the invite before we were officially together. However, they wanted to keep the guest list small, so there was no plus one on the invite…for anyone unless they were already married or engaged. I can show it to you if you’d fancy having a look at it.” 

_Don’t ask him if Snow White and Prince Phillip were on it, even though you’re dying to blurt it out. Just shut up, Donna, and act like the mature woman you aren’t.  
_

_If I could just remember where I put the bloody thing. It must be in my desk. Hopefully, she won’t take me up on my offer. I know I need to wear a hat for the theme. Oh yeah. Now, its coming back to me.  
_

“I wasn’t going to ask. I figured it was something like that.” 

_I lie. I was going to ask, but his explanation makes perfect sense. I was the big secret in his life until recently. Honey did want us to be absolutely sure._

“I hope you’re not angry, Love.” 

“Not in the slightest.” 

Benedict bent over, kissed her and flashed a warm smile. “Brilliant! That’s what I love about you, Donna. You’re quite the understanding girlfriend.” 

_Not always, Benedict. I have my moments, but I thank you._

“Christ! Now, I’ve got even more things to sort out before the wedding,” he sighed as Donna walked him to the door. “I’ve yet to buy them a gift…” _  
_

_That’s my honey. Waits until the last minute, bless his little heart.  
_

“…and I have to find a place that sells masks.” _  
_

_I wonder what he needs a mask for. Oh, silly me. It is taking place in a coal mine. He doesn’t want to breathe in all that coal dust. Smart man.  
_

“We can have dinner in a nice restaurant Saturday night. Make a booking at a place you think they’ll fancy,” Said Benedict opening his wallet and handing her his Tate membership card. “If you have your heart set on going here, be sure to mention that I’m a member when you book.”

_I really, really wish she'd pick any other place but the Tate Modern.  Then not only will I have to deal with her parents, but that wanker waiter, Frank...no  Frederick as well. Hopefully, she won't be able to get a booking at this late date, thought I bet they'll try and squeeze us in being I'm a member._

Donna studied the card and suddenly handed it back to a confused-looking Benedict. _  
_

_Now that I think about it, he’s fucking crazy; and so am I! He has no idea what they’re capable of in a restaurant._

“I disagree. I think I’ll cook dinner here and invite Carly and Steve up to act as buffers.” 

“You mean referees?” 

“Stop being such a dick! They aren’t your parents. I know what they’re like.” 

“Isn’t that the idea? That I have a proper chance to really get to know what they’re like?” 

_Hopefully, they will be nicer than they are on Skype_ ; _but somehow I doubt it._    

“You think you hate them now? Wait until you’ve spent an entire evening with them in person,” she sneered. 

“I don’t hate them, Donna.” 

_I lie. I despise your father more than I can say, so I won’t. The jury is still out regarding your mother._

“You’ll go running off into the night screaming, never to be seen again.” 

“I highly doubt that!” scoffed Benedict. 

_That will occur after the get together with my parents. Then we’ll both run off screaming into the Heath, never to be seen again.  
_

Benedict took Donna firmly by the elbows and gazed deep into her eyes. She could see that he was being dead serious. 

“I don’t want you to cook, Donna. You’ll be running around playing hostess all night when you should be sat down to enjoy the visit.” 

“No one is going to enjoy this visit, Benedict – least of all you. They will be doing their utmost to conduct an interview and find fault while Carly and Steve will be trying to distract them from going too far over the top.” 

“Interviewed? Who do they think they are, the bloody press?” 

“Worse than that. My mother will go into full courtroom mode. You will think you've been put on the witness stand.” 

“All the more reason for us to take them out to dinner. They won’t make a scene in a public place.” 

Donna snorted. “A lot you don’t know.” 

“I’m serious.” 

“So am I.” 

“Forget the Tate. The last thing I need is for that wanker waiter to poke fun at my inability to choose a proper wine. And as much as I would welcome having Carly and Steve along, I need this first dinner to be just the four of us. We’ll meet up at the Ivy. I like the atmosphere, the food is fabulous and the service flawless. We can have an epic dinner and some quiet conversation. I’ll take care of the booking today.” 

“I really enjoy the Ivy, Ben; but the tables are spaced fairly close together. There will be no privacy.” 

“Not where we’re going to be,” smiled Benedict Cumberbatch smugly. “I just treated myself to a membership. We’ll be sat in the members only area.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Congratulations to Benedict on the birth of his son. Dreams do come true.
> 
> 2\. Yes, I’m poking fun at the Birken-Fornieles wedding that really did occur in a mine shaft in Wales in 2009; and I’m not done yet. If you're a fan, I suggest you skip any mention of their wedding in upcoming chapters. 
> 
> 3\. Benedict does have a membership to the Ivy Restaurant from what I’ve read.
> 
> 6/20/15: PLEASE NOTE THAT THE NEXT CHAPTER WILL BE POSTED ON SUNDAY, 7/12 DUE TO PERSONAL COMMITMENTS.


	93. Chapter 93

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience, Lovely Readers, while I was on hiatus. Now, back to our story!
> 
> Note: Meetings aplenty in this chapter. Donna and Carly meet with Mark Gatiss. Benedict meets with Karon. 
> 
> I’ll be using ************* to indicate things happening at the same time

 

 

Carly Cipriano looked up from the cash register as Donna Saint James flounced into Carldonn Creative Catering with an annoyed air about her.

“You’re late!” observed Carly, glancing at the cupcake-themed clock that hung on the wall behind the counter. “What happened? You’re never, _ever_ late.”

“Only when other people make me late,” huffed Donna in response, tucking her hair behind her ears. “It was the meeting that never ended! Eric kept talking and talking and talking until I wanted to scream. He does love to hear himself talk, bless his vain little heart.”

 “Carly! Can you please come back here and give my lemon grass and prawn soup a taste?” came George’s voice from the intercom. “If Donna’s arrived, bring her back, too.”

“Sure. Donna just got her. We’ll be right there.”

Donna came behind the counter and dropped her faux Louis Vuitton bag on the floor. She helped herself to a brownie bite with dried cherries in it from the display case and popped the whole thing into her mouth.

“I’m starved,” she said around a mouthful of cake. “I like the addition of the cherries.”

“Glad you approve.”

“Where’s Mark Gatiss?”

“He called about an hour ago to say he’s running late but should be here soon. It seems the world is running late today,” lamented Carly. “I’m so nervous about what he has to say.”

“That makes two of us,” agreed Donna, hefting her bag over her shoulder and leading the way to the kitchen. “Let’s get George to watch the counter and go taste that soup. I haven’t had lunch yet and could use a little something savory rather than fill up on sweets.”

 

**********************************************

 

Mark Gatiss rushed into Carldonn Creative Catering to find a rotund middle-aged man in chef’s whites behind the counter rather than Carly or Donna. He recognized the man as the Sous Chef who worked in the back.

“Hello!” boomed Mark, sounding a bit out of breath. “Carly and Donna are expecting me. I’m Mark Gatiss. Are they in?”

George smiled at the harried-looking, red-haired man before him. “They’re in the back having a soup tasting. Just a minute.” He turned to the intercom and buzzed the kitchen. “Mark Gatiss is here to see you two. Shall I bring him back to the office then?”

“Yes, George, please bring him right in!” came Donna’s voice in response.

“Right this way,” said George, as the door to the store opened and an older woman wearing large sunglasses with her blonde hair in a French twist came in.

“Wanda! How lovely you look today, like a breath of fresh air. Are you well?” exclaimed Mark as he greeted her with a double-cheeked kiss. “Here for a late lunch are you?”

Wanda gaped at Mark Gatiss in surprise, as she removed her sunglasses and tucked them into her black leather handbag.

_Hells bells! What is he doing here? Stop over thinking everything, Wanda. He’s probably here to get lunch and be on his way is all._

“Um…well, actually no. I’m here to see one of the birds who owns the place,” explained Wanda. She smiled at George. “Is Donna in?”

George nodded. “She’s in the back with Carly. Shall I fetch her, Madam?”

“Please,” replied Wanda. “Tell her Wanda Cumberbatch is here.”

Mark laughed. “I’m not used to hearing you referred to as Wanda Cumberbatch. That’s quite a mouthful, isn’t it?”

Wanda shrugged. “Well, it’s who I really am when I'm not working. Don’t tell Tim, but it often sounds strange to me when I use my married name, and I’ve had it for thirty-three years,” she added with a giggle. “Half the time I’m a Ventham, the other half I’m a Cumberbatch. Ventham is so much easier.”

“It could be worse. You could have decided to be Wanda Ventham-Cumberbatch,” snickered Mark. “A lot of women choose to hyphenate their maiden and married names.”

“Perish the thought, Mark! Having to spell out Cumberbatch is bad enough without adding another name to the mix.”

George had disappeared through the swinging doors that led to the back, leaving Wanda alone with Mark.   Mark noted that a small viewing window had been installed in the doors, thru providing a clear view of anyone coming in or out.

“That’s a new addition,” quipped Mark, indicating the window with his head. “The last time I was here, the lack of one of those caused quite the calamity.”

Wanda laughed and nodded as she recalled Donna’s mishaps with the swinging door. “Yes, it certainly did. Are you here for lunch then?”

“No. Actually, I’ve got an appointment with Donna and her sister to discuss a business proposition.”

_Business proposition? How interesting! Benedict never said anything about Donna and Carly going into business with Mark. Perhaps he doesn’t know anything about it, but then sometimes my son has shown he can actually keep a secret._

“Are you and Ian having a catered party?” probed Wanda gently.

_I love how nosy Wanda is at times. She reminds me of Ben. Like mother, like son_ , thought Mark with amusement _. I might as well tell her or she’ll keep asking._

“I’m here to discuss catering for _Dr. Who_ ,” replied Mark matter of factly. “The caterers Hartswood hired have turned out to be totally unreliable and the food is absolute rubbish. Aside from that, they’re just an utter delight to deal with,” he chuckled bitterly.

“How interesting,” mused Wanda. “I hope you can come to some kind of arrangement. The food here is delicious and the girls are just lovely. I’m sure they’d do a wonderful job for Hartswood.”

“How is your husband? I hope he’s in good health.”

Wanda nodded. “Tim’s fine for the most part. His back bothers him terribly some days; but that’s to be expected with arthritis.”

“An unfortunate complication of the supposed Golden Years,” said Mark sadly. “My parents also suffer from various forms of it.”

Wanda held up her hands. “I do as well. Thank goodness the meds and exercise help alleviate the pain.”

“I just came from a costume fitting with Ben. We finally pulled together the whole look for _Sherlock_ , and it’s absolutely cracking. I took some photos,” said Mark, pulling out his mobile and scrolling through his photographs.

“Hi Mark! Sorry to keep you waiting,” said Donna, as she pushed the door open and entered the room. “Hi Wanda! What a nice surprise.”

Donna hugged Wanda tightly as Mark looked on with curiosity. Then she shook hands with Mark.  “It’s nice to see you, Mark.”

“So sorry but things ran late as they often do in filming,” he offered apologetically. “I spent the morning at a costume fitting and that ran over. Then we rushed over here to begin filming _Dr. Who_ , and now that’s running late. The crew will be overjoyed with the overtime pay they’ll undoubtedly get.”

“Not a problem. My meeting at the Tribute ran late, so I just got here myself.”

_Why are they huddled over Mark’s cellphone like that? And I wonder why Wanda’s here. She doesn’t seem upset, so I guess it’s nothing bad. We keep playing phone tag.  
_

“Can I get you some lunch, Wanda?” inquired Donna pleasantly.

“Thank you, no. I’ve already eaten. I’m sorry we keep missing each other. Rather than ring you up again, I thought I’d pop in so we could have a proper chat in person,” explained Wanda. “I didn’t realize you had an appointment with Mark. We can talk later. Ring me back anytime.”

“Am I interrupting anything?” inquired Donna, indicating the cellphone in Mark’s hand.

“Mark was about to show me some photos he just took of Benedict at his _Sherlock_ costume fitting!” gushed Wanda excitedly.

Donna’s face lit up at the mention of Benedict’s name. “Benedict mentioned that he had his _Sherlock_ fitting scheduled while we were having breakfast this morning.”

_My son spent the night apparently. Jolly good for him!  I wonder if she took the time to make him a proper cooked breakfast. Donna does look radiant. I’m betting they spent a lot of time shagging on that holiday._

Donna caught a slightly raised eyebrow as Mark Gatiss digested the information. He looked at her as if he were deciding whether or not to ask a question.

_Good gravy! There seems to be one person left in London who doesn’t know about us._

“Donna and Benedict are in a relationship,” offered Wanda. “And Tim and I couldn’t be happier about it,” she added as she smiled and winked at Donna.

Mark’s face broke into a huge grin. “Ah, so you’re the young lady who’s made our star so happy! Ben raved all about your homemade malted waffles and his lovely romantic holiday in Cornwall during the fitting.”

_Sounds like Benedict had a nice breakfast this morning. She made him waffles from scratch apparently. Well done her,_ thought Wanda. _I like that she' treating him so well.  
_

Donna blushed and smiled. “I’m glad to hear Benedict enjoyed my waffles so much.”

Wanda smiled at Donna approvingly.

“He said they were brilliant,” confirmed Mark. “And that you make the best coffee in London.”

Donna smiled proudly and felt a bit relieved.

_I can only imagine what he would have said if I had made him tea instead. ‘She makes the absolute worst shit tea in London – hahaha!’_

“Ben has always been a breakfast eater, so I’m chuffed to hear that he’s getting something good to eat in the mornings. Olivia used to feed him granola bars or grab something at Café Nero when the mood struck her, and Anna used to make these awful spinach and kale concoctions in a blender. Ben said it was like drinking the grass clippings the landscapers left behind for compost,” scoffed Wanda. “You make him very happy, Love.”

_Hmmmm…so Benedict’s exes weren’t into cooking breakfast for him. Wanda’s clearly impressed which is a point in my favor,_ thought Donna happily _. I’m glad to hear he was bragging about my waffles and coffee._

“Benedict makes me very happy, too,” Donna added with a bashful smile.

“Are those malted waffles very complicated to make?” inquired Mark, stroking his chin thoughtfully.

Donna shook her head. “They aren’t as long as you own a waffle iron, not especially.”

“Would you mind sharing your recipe then?” Mark asked. “My husband, Ian, does most of the cooking in our household. I’m afraid my culinary skills are somewhat lacking when it comes to creativity. I thought it would be nice to surprise him for once with a home-cooked breakfast in bed on Sunday that didn’t consist of just toast and coffee.”

“Sure, Mark. I’ll be happy to email it to you.”

Mark returned his attention to his mobile. “Ah, here we are, ladies. May I introduce you to our modern version of Sherlock Holmes,” he declared, holding out his mobile so both women could view the photos. _  
_

“Oh my God! Benedict’s hair is black! How handsome he looks!” exclaimed Donna. “He didn’t say anything about coloring it yet.”

“He does look handsome indeed. These clothes are quite different from what he wore in the pilot,” chimed in Wanda. “The suits and shirts are stunning. They are just beautifully tailoured,” she added.

Mark grinned proudly. “And they jolly well should be. Ben is sporting the finest clothing available from Saville Row.”

“How impressive,” commented Wanda. “I had no idea bespoke clothes were factored into the BBC’s budget.”

“Actually, it’s the finest clothing our costume designer could find within our modest budget. Those are not bespoke clothes that Ben is wearing. The suits are off-the-rack Spencer Hart, which have been expertly tailoured to fit him. The slim fit shirts are from Dolce and Gabana, and the shoes are Yves Saint Laurent. The only modification we made was to replace the heels on the shoes with lower ones so he wouldn’t tower over Martin Freeman too much.”

Donna and Wanda nodded as they continued to study the photo.

“As you can see, we kept the Belstaff coat and scarf. Ben adores swishing about in the coat.”

_Hmmm…he means the costume designer spent the bulk of the budget on Ben’s wardrobe and shopped the sales and charity shops for the rest of the cast,_ mused Wanda. _I know how that works.  
_

_Modest? That sure as heck sounds like a nice, big budget to me_ , thought Donna. _Those are all top designer fashions, and Benedict has the perfect physique to carry them off._

“Those clothes fit him like a second skin,” observed Donna approvingly. “I love the slim silhouette.”

“That’s exactly what we were aiming for,” confirmed Mark, still smiling proudly. “I’m over the moon that you ladies approve.”

Donna smiled at Wanda. “I also like Benedict’s hair combed forward like that and all fluffy and curly. What about you, Wanda?”

“I’ve always fancied Ben with some sort of fringe on his forehead. His face doesn’t look as long.”

“I guess I’ll have to get used to having a boyfriend with black hair,” Donna chuckled. “At least for several months.”

“He won’t have the dark hair for long, my dear. We didn’t use permanent hair colour,” Explained Mark. “This will wash out as soon as he shampoos. We needed to visualize the whole look, and Ben was completely on board with allowing Claire to apply the temporary hair dye. Our executive producer, Beryl Vertue, volunteered to have the final fittings at her flat, which enabled us to do a trial run of his hair and makeup at the same time.”

“Are you and Steve Moffat satisfied with how the look turned out then?” inquired Wanda.

Mark nodded vigourously as his face broke out into a huge smile.

“Steven and I couldn’t be happier with this tweaked look. The black jeans needed to go. We wanted Sherlock to dress more formal and to have longer hair, which Ben didn’t have when we filmed the pilot. As you can see in these photos, Ben now has more of a Byronesque look.”

“No wonder he’s taken to slicking his hair back,” quipped Wanda. “He thinks he’s controlling the curls that way.”

“I’ve told him many times to just give up and embrace his natural curls to no avail,” lamented Donna. “He’s dreading having to wear long hair for all those months of shooting. Did he tell you that his hair has to be even longer for the Van Gogh movie, too?”

“Yes, he did,” replied Mark with a delighted laugh. “Steven and I had all to do to keep from high-fiving each other when Ben made that declaration.”

“I can picture that,” laughed Donna. “I can also visualize Benedict’s face when he found out that you liked the idea.”

“Ben’s made the comment to us several times about giving Sherlock shorter hair; but we refused to relent as we want our Sherlock to have this particular look. Once we showed him these photos, he admitted that he was very satisfied with the look and would be happy to comply and keep it at Van Gogh length.”

“Mark, would you mind emailing me these photos, so I can show my husband?” asked Wanda.

“It would be my pleasure. Just type in your email address here,” Mark replied, handing her his mobile, so she could input her information.

“Can you email them to me, too?” asked Donna eagerly. “I believe you already have my contact information.”

Mark nodded. “It would be my pleasure. I only ask that you both refrain from sharing these photos with anyone else. Somehow a couple of our promo stills for the pilot got circulated on the internet. To this day we haven’t a clue who was responsible for leaking them.”

_He should only know the responsible party stands before him,_ thought Wanda, being careful not to meet his gaze _.  
_

Donna glanced at Wanda knowingly. _And here I stand_ _beside the leak. Mark would be pissed if he knew it was Wanda floating those photos all around town._

“He does look smashing!” said Wanda, beaming as she took a last look at the photos. “It’s a brilliant look, Mark.”

_I don’t know how her father had the bollocks to write that my Benedict had a horse-face. My son is very handsome. He reminds me so much of Tim in so many ways. I suppose the wanker thinks my husband has a horse-face as well. Oh, what I wouldn't give to have five minutes alone with that right bastard so I could set him straight!  
_

“You’ll get no argument from me,” added Donna with a wistful sigh.

_Hmmm…Benedict may have given in for now; but something tells me that Barrister Ben isn’t done with you yet, Mark Gatiss,_ thought Donna with amusement. _Somewhere down the road, he’s going to find a way to convince you to let Sherlock have shorter hair – even if it takes a few years for him to do it.  
_

 

 

As soon as Wanda Ventham had taken her leave; Mark, Carly and Donna settled themselves around the desk in the cramped back office, which also doubled as Carldonn’s conference room. Being Mark and Donna hadn’t had lunch; George had brought them bowls of the lemongrass and prawn soup with open-faced pressed rice sandwiches topped with sliced, tea-smoked, chicken breast and wasabi mayonnaise. Carly had brewed some hot green tea to go along with their repast.

“And these little morsels are matcha-infused cheesecake bites,” said Carly, indicated the small, bright green cakes that were arranged on a glass plate. “Maria decided to try her hand at an Asian inspired dessert to go along with George’s experiment.”

“Mmmm…this is lovely,” murmured Mark as he took a bite of the sandwich. “Very different and quite delectable. Not at all like the shit our caterer set out today. A variety of cold - made with what can only be described as mystery meat - sarnies on bloomers that were so hard, we could have used them for cricket bats.”

“Mystery meat?” repeated Carly. “That sounds scary.”

“It was,” groused Mark, as he drank some tea. “This caterer thinks that just because there were only a handful of us on location today that gave them carte blanche to cut corners, and they cut corners in a most unspectacular way.”

“You’ll find that we _never_ cut corners at Carldonn,” Donna boasted with pride, as she selected a rice triangle. “ _Ever_.”

Carly rolled her eyes. _You can cease with the sales pitch, Donna. The decision has already been made!_

Donna felt Carly side-eyeing her. _I get the feeling I wasn’t supposed to say that; but I want to know what the decision is. I hate all this chatter when people should just get to the point._

_I sense Miss Impatience is going to ask Mark for his decision. I wish she’d just keep quiet and let him bring it up when he’s ready to. I thought hanging out with the waffling Mr. Cumberbatch would have made Donna more patient, but nope. She’s just as bad as ever.  
_

“Tomorrow they’ll probably send whatever’s left over from today,” joked Mark, reaching for another rice sandwich.

“Well, hopefully, you won’t have to use them much longer,” smiled Donna meaningfully. “We have a very reliable bread supplier.”

Mark regarded Donna with a twinkle in his eyes. “If they are so reliable, then why did your chef use rice rather than bread for these sandwiches?”

_Holy cow! That was quite a zinger,_ thought Donna. _I shouldn’t have said anything._

_I’m pretty sure he’s kidding Donna, and she fell for it. I do love the expression of sheer panic on her face,_ thought Carly.

_They think I’m being serious! I shouldn’t lead them on like that._ “I was joking,” laughed Mark. “I realize your chef was just trying out something different.”

“You’re quite the jokester, Mr. Gatiss,” laughed Carly.

_You almost gave me a heart attack,_ thought Donna _. Jeez Louise._

“So I’ve been told. Having a poker face does have its advantages when teasing.”

“I only meant to bring out the fact that we use only the most reputable and reliable suppliers,” said Donna. “I’m sure that not only will Steve Moffat be very happy for choosing Carldonn, but the cast and crew will be likewise. Our proposal guarantees …”

_OUCH!_

Carly had deliberately crossed her legs, kicking Donna in the shin, and glared at her pointedly.

_Jesus, Donna! Nothing like jumping right into the pool. Give the man a chance to eat first before trying to bring up the proposal. You’re not as subtle as you think you are! You’re about as subtle as a brick.  
_

Donna rubbed her leg. _Carly’s pissed at me for saying that. I was just using what I learned in that marketing course I took in college.  
_

_My sister and that damned marketing course she took in college. She thinks she’s Donald Trump trying to close the deal. There’s nothing to close. The decision’s been made.  
_

Donna watched as Mark drank some more tea. He smiled at her over the rim of the cup. _  
_

_He must be here to deliver good news. Otherwise I think he would have just told us over the phone or sent an email. Our proposal was fair, so I don’t see why Steve Moffat would reject it. I guess I was coming off as too anxious. Patience has never been my strong point.  
_

“I’m glad we were able to give you something decent for lunch,” said Carly as Mark wolfed down the remainder of the sandwich.

“These really are delicious,” said Mark, smacking his lips.

"Like our slogan says:  Lip smackin' satisfaction!" chirped Donna.

"That's rather cute," mused Mark, blotting his mouth with a serviette. 

"I'm glad someone appreciates it," laughed Carly.  "My husband and Donna's boyfriend thought it was too corny."

"We all need a gimmick, don't we?" countered Mark pleasantly.  "Have I told you just how good these little rice sarnies are?"  he smiled, taking another.

_We could make these for him tomorrow! Why not? He can fire the caterer today, and we can be on board tomorrow!_ Thought Donna, excitement building inside her.

Carly felt her stomach drop as she saw the look on Donna’s face.

_Oh, oh. I know that look when I see it. Donna’s ready to offer to do tomorrow’s catering. Is she out of her fucking mind? We aren’t prepared for that._

Donna began to open her mouth when Carly deliberately cut her off.

“Thank you, Mark,” said Carly. “It was George’s idea to try a little Vietnamese-Japanese fusion. I’ll be sure to tell him you approve.”

_Ah, Carly’s trying to steer the conversation. She knows what I’m thinking. He did say there were only a handful of them working right now. We could handle it easily._

“We’re definitely going to have to add this to our rotation,” added Donna, stirring two packets of demerara sugar into her tea.

“I would definitely add it,” agreed Mark, placing his empty soup bowl on the desk.  He sipped some tea and nodded approvingly to himself.

Donna moved her chair away from Carly. _Nothing ventured, nothing gained._

“How about if we make some up of these rice sandwiches for your cast and crew tomorrow?” asked Donna. “They are simple to prepare and the soup is also…”

Mark held up his hand. “I really do appreciate the kind offer, Donna; but it’s not that simple. Steve just can’t sack them without properly notifying them as per the contract.”

“Our mother is a lawyer,” laughed Carly. “So, we know all about contracts, don’t we, Donna?”

“I know that contracts can often be broken…”

“Donna! Can I see you in the hallway, please,” Carly said sharply.

Mark’s mobile began to ring. “Excuse me while I take this, its’ Steven. I’ll leave you to it, no need to get up.” He rose and went into the hallway, pulling the door shut behind him.

_Oh, oh. This isn’t going to be good,_ thought Donna miserably. _She’s going to let me have it._

“Alone at last,” smiled Carly sarcastically.

“Before you say anything…”

“NO! _You_ need to be quiet and listen to _me_ , Donna Marie Saint James! There is no way in hell that we are prepared to handle a catering job tomorrow! We have that retirement luncheon for the bigwig at the bank in case you forgot. We’d need to buy the extra food, hire more kitchen help…”

“We can pitch in and…”

“We already do!”

“We can ask Steve and Benedict to give us a hand.”

“Ummm…in case you forgot, your brother-in-law is a doctor and needs to assist in surgery tomorrow, not to mention Benedict has something called a job that he's in the midst of doing right now!”

“Oh, you have no sense of adventure, _Carla_!”

“Yes, I do – just not the kind you want us to have!”

There was a soft knock and the door to the office opened as Mark Gatiss stepped back in. He flashed a toothy smile at them as he settled his long, lanky frame back in his chair.

“As I feared, I’ve been summoned back to set; so allow me to get right to the point, ladies. Steven did review your proposal and discussed it with me at great length. He was very impressed with the quality of your offerings the day you came to the rescue when our caterer crapped out on us...”

Donna clapped her hands together. “This is wonderful news!”

“However, he made the decision not to use you at this time, because of the contract that is already in place with our current caterer. His solicitor advised him against making any changes at this time as it’s almost run its course.”

_OH. That’s not such wonderful news,_ thought Donna.

_Benedict and my hubby will be overjoyed to hear this_ , thought Carly. _I just wish I hadn’t let myself get my hopes up. Jamie Oliver’s job won’t last forever, and I’ll be bored again._

Both women had been expecting a positive response from Mark and were profoundly disappointed. The sisters exchanged defeated looks as Mark drank some tea.

Donna sat back in her chair as a thought came to her. _Whoa hoa here. What about that day the caterer neglected to show up? Isn’t that a valid reason to fire them?_

“Can’t you fire them for cause, Mark? They didn’t fulfill their end of the contract. They didn’t show up that day you came to us to help out,” pointed out Donna. “And they provide awful food from what you’ve told us.”

_I think Donna is fighting an uphill battle, but I’d like to hear what he has to say,_ thought Carly _._

Mark finished his tea and carefully blotted his lips with a serviette. “That’s an excellent and utterly valid question, Donna. In the end, Steven felt that being we’re already well into filming the last episode of _Dr. Who_ for the season; it didn’t seem practical for him to change caterers at this point.”

“I understand,” said Carly in a small voice.

“There’s always next season!” piped up Donna hopefully.

“Shut up, Donna! You’re being pushy,” hissed Carly under her breath. “Excuse my sister’s enthusiasm,” she said apologetically to Mark.

“There’s nothing to be pushy about. It’s already been decided. Steven asked me to tell you that he plans to use Carldonn Creative Catering next season if you’re game.”

“Of course we are!” cried Donna.

“Absolutely!” confirmed Carly. “When does _Dr. Who_ begin filming next year?”

“We haven’t locked down the dates yet, but you’ll be among the first to know so you can start making plans.”

“This is great news! Thank Steven Moffat for the vote of confidence and to you for convincing him to give us a chance,” said Carly with a smile.

Mark glanced at his watch and got to his feet. “It’s time for me to head back to set. I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other soon. Someone from Hartswood Productions legal department will be contacting you with contract details shortly, so your solicitor can review it. Then you’ll have a meeting with Steven to discuss what’s expected and finalize the contract. Thank you both for a truly lovely and delectable lunch.”

Donna and Carly shook hands with Mark and walked him out to the store, as George returned to the back. He had spent the time cleaning out the cases and setting up for the next morning. Once he had departed, the pair looked at each other and broke out into huge smiles as they hugged each other.

“I tell you, I couldn’t breathe for a minute there, I was so nervous,” laughed Carly with relief as she turned the “Closed” sign outwards and locked the door to the store.

“That makes two of us!” agreed Donna as they returned to the back office. “We now have plenty of time to plan how we’re going to pull this off without losing our minds.”

Carly poured them each a fresh mug of the green tea and handed one to Donna.

“It sure is a good thing we have all this time because we certainly will need it. Jamie Oliver is ready to go full steam ahead on the new restaurant design, so I’m going to be counting on you to lead the way.”

Donna raised her mug to her sister. “You know you can count on me, Curly Carly. I’m up to anything.”

_Wait until she hears her first challenge. I’m still getting over the shock._

“To our new venture!” said Carly.

“May it provide us with many new and exciting challenges!” added Donna.

They touched mugs and drank together. Carly studied her twin sister over the rim.

“I’m glad to hear you say this, Donna, because your first exciting challenge is to find us another bookkeeper,” said Carly sadly, sitting down behind the desk as Donna sat in the chair Mark Gatiss had formerly occupied.

Carly opened the center desk drawer and pulled a sheet of paper out of a manila folder. She handed it across the desk to Donna to read.

Donna paused in mid-sip and frowned. “Why do we need two? We already have a wonderful one.”

“Only for another two months. Kelsey just gave me two months’ notice this morning, because her husband’s been transferred to Liverpool. You’re holding her resignation letter.”

Donna read the letter in disbelief and handed it back to Carly.

_Shit. This is just what we didn’t need. However, all is not lost!_

“No worries. I’ve already got an idea, and we won’t need to go to an employment agency or go looking through Craig’s List.” _  
_

_That’s what I’m afraid of,_ thought Carly Cipriano. _One of Donna’s famous hair-brained ideas. I’ll be fair and hear her out.  
_

“Enlighten me. I’m all ears.”

“I’m going to place an ad at one of the local colleges for a bookkeeping intern. We’d want someone who’s majoring in accounting and about to start their last year. It will be an unpaid, part time position until they graduate. If they do a good job and we’re satisfied, we hire them full time upon graduation. Since it will be their first job, we won’t have to pay them as much as we do Kelsey. We’ll need to find someone fairly quickly though, so Kelsey will have ample time to train them.”

_Hmmmm…this is actually a good idea. I never would have thought of it._

“I wonder if we could do that with hiring extra kitchen staff?” mused Carly. “Maria and George are the chefs. Karl does kitchen prep, clean up and delivery. How many extra people do you think we’ll need?”

Donna considered her sister's questions for a moment before responding. “We’ll need two more kitchen staff, a part time delivery person, two people to help set up. serve and clean up - and most importantly, a buyer to shop for and keep track of the supplies…this person can also function as an office manager, so they could go the same intern route as the bookkeeper. This way we can concentrate on making up the menus and overseeing the operation.”

_The operation. Donna makes it sound like we’re suddenly a major corporation. Benedict and Steve are not going to be happy with this news. Not at all._

“We’ll definitely need one or two people to work the counter when we can’t be here,” said Carly as she ate one of the mini matcha cheesecakes. “You and I can still pitch in where needed, but it won’t be enough. We’ll be too busy to do that once this thing gets rolling. And we also have our own full time jobs to take into consideration.”

The two sisters ate the cheesecakes and drank their tea as they considered their options.

“Maybe we’re better off hiring experienced help,” remarked Carly.

“That will cost us in salaries and benefits,” retorted Donna. “We can do the training – except for the bookkeeper - and save money by using college students. I like the intern idea more and more.”

“It is intriguing, I’ll give you that.”

“Doesn’t Jamie Oliver do something similar to interning cooks at his restaurant Fifteen? Maybe you can pick his brain for ideas when you next meet with him, Carly. The more I think about it, the more I think the way to go is to hire part timers from a local college to help out with delivery and things like setting up and cleaning up the catering. Then we use interns for the cooks, bookkeeper and buyer positions. What do you think?”

Carly Cipriano sat back and regarded her sister with pursed lips. Then she smiled widely and gave Donna a thumb up.

“You know, I think that might just work! Let’s do it!”

 

**************************************************

  _  
_

Benedict Cumberbatch sat in a very comfortable black leather chair, sipping hot black tea with lemon and ginger in his publicist, Karon Maskill’s office.   He had been there for the past hour, discussing various promotion strategies for his career with her. Now, Karon had moved onto dissecting his last interview, which Benedict had come to dread.

_Sometimes I truly feel as if I were being reprimanded by Mum. I suppose I do deserve it sometimes. Christ, I wish she’d bring this to an end soon. I’ve got to pop over to my parents’ flat, so we can discuss how to best handle Donna’s parents without risking a war breaking out.  
_

Karon sat across her narrow, glass-topped desk and studied her client, who had become increasingly fidgety during the past half an hour. She had just asked him a question and had yet to receive an answer.

_If Benedict looks at his watch one more time, I’m going to cuff him around the ears. He’s always in a hurry because he’s forever late. I wonder what it is this time. An audition? A job? A hot date? Family issues?  
_

“Somehow, I have the distinct feeling you’re not entirely here, Ben,” said Karon finally, as she took a sip of her tea. “Do you have another appointment?”

Benedict placed his teacup and saucer on the edge of her desk and rubbed the back of his neck. Karon noticed his cup was empty and poured him a refill from the robin’s egg blue teapot that sat on the tea tray, which always occupied a corner of her desk. She also noted the pot was just about empty and buzzed her assistant, Joyce, who promptly brought a fresh pot.

“Erm…I am here, Karon. I heard what you said, and you’re not wrong. I honestly don’t know what possessed me to say that. My mouth filter wasn’t working that day and…”

_I knew when I took him on as a client that tact, diplomacy, brevity and being able to keep secrets were not high on his list of desirable client-traits; but yet I sensed something special about Ben and his work. I just wish he’d take my advice and learn to keep his answers brief and to the point and not get into debates with the journalists. Ben has proven to be a handful – the PR person’s nightmare come to life._

“Then may I suggest you get it repaired before the _Creation_ premiere? We can’t have you running off at the mouth like that again,” she retorted. “You can’t just make off –the-cuff statements about the Prime Minister like that, no matter how funny you thought you were being.”

Benedict crinkled his nose and smiled at her. “Hahaha! And why the fuck not? I voted for him, so I had every right to say what I did. It was just a harmless little comment.”

“It was a harmless little comment that wound up on the record! You poked fun at his suit, Ben. To a conservative journalist no less.”

_She must have thought Christmas had come early when he opened his big mouth._

“It was an ugly suit and didn’t fit him properly.”

_Now, this is just too funny for words. All of a sudden Ben’s become a fashionista. This comes from the man who once wore his father’s too big tuxedo to a premiere. God, give me strength.  
_

“It had nothing to do with the interview! You were supposed to be promoting the film, _Creation_ , not the Prime Minister’s choice of clothing.”

Benedict withdrew a tiny tin of dark chocolate mints from his trousers pocket, and popped one into his mouth after first offering one to Karon, who politely declined.

_He must have stopped smoking again, as he’s just about finished off that tin of mints._

“I just said it looked as if he bought it at Sainsbury while he was doing his weekly food shopping,” he snickered.

“I still don’t understand what possessed you to say such a thing. Care to enlighten me?”

Benedict chortled. “Oh, that’s easy! I was sat there with nothing to do whilst she was rifling through her papers.” He paused to imitate the journalist. “Have I mentioned that the cow was totally unprepared by the way?”

_Yes, you did. Several times afterwards. So many times that I wanted to slap a muzzle on you. Patience is not one of his virtues. I often think that terminal impatience of his is why Olivia left him._

“So when I happened to see Prime Minister Brown on the telly they had playing in the background, I was so shocked to see him in such a shit-looking suit that I made the comment.”

_I hate when they hold these interviews in pubs. There are too many distractions around, and Ben has proven many times over that he is easily distracted. I should have insisted on a hotel lobby or lounge or here even._

“Which said cow then dutifully repeated word-for-word in her article. Then when you told her that you were a Labour Party supporter, you made her day. It gave her the opportunity to depict you as being disloyal to your own party and your country in turn. Well done you,” sneered Karon.

Benedict waved his hand dismissively. “Oh, for fucks sake! All I did was make an aside about his suit. It wasn’t meant to be part of the interview. We were in between questions. I looked behind me to see what was playing on the telly and made an innocent comment based on an observation is all. There really was nothing to it.”

“She saw it as you poking fun at our country’s leader. I just don’t understand how you two went from evolution to politics within mere minutes. I leave the room for two minutes to take an important call, and come back to find a full-blown debate in progress.”

“She called me posh,” said Benedict, voice full of contempt. “I set her straight.”

Karon rolled her eyes. “If that’s what you fancy calling it. I call it being confrontational, cheeky and defensive, which you cannot be in these interviews, Ben! Not to mention you were baiting her about being a Tory.”

“Having her show her true Tory colours was just a lovely bonus,” snickered Benedict. “It was such a boring interview to begin with, and I was getting weary of the same questions. Why can’t they ever come up with interesting questions to ask me?”

Karon added a splash of milk to her tea and stirred it furiously as she stared at him.  A bit sloshed over the rim into the saucer.

“You were needling her unnecessarily.”

Benedict held her gaze. “I told you. She called me posh. I’m _not_ posh,” he said sullenly.

_Spoken like a true petulant child. I guess I’m going to have to treat him like one._

Karon paused to sip her tea and summoned all her patience before speaking.

“Benedict. There is no getting away from the fact that you come from a posh…"

Benedict rolled his eyes and sighed deeply with annoyance.

“… Privileged…”

Benedict shook his head and rolled his eyes again.

“… moneyed…”

There came another eye roll.

_If he doesn’t stop this fuckery, I’m going to toss him out on his bum. One fine day those mesmerizing blue eyes of his are going to get stuck that way as my dear Granny was fond of saying._

“… whatever you fancy calling it – background then,” said Karon in a patronizing tone of voice. 

“Middle class. I’m strictly middle class.”

“Jolly good then. Middle class it is then," said Karon, waving her hand at Benedict dismissively. "However, that’s not the point I'm trying to make, Ben. You need to find a way to control your tongue and stick to the interview questions. You cannot be sat there and make flip remarks that are most certainly going to be taken out of context, nor can you just go off on a tangent when you decide you’d rather talk about something else.”

Benedict said nothing. He sipped his tea and helped himself to a ginger nut biscuit and crunched down on it, scattering crumbs onto the glass desktop.

“So, sorry, Karon,” he apologized while quickly brushing them off the surface and into his serviette.  Benedict frantically looked around for a place to put the crumbs as Karon looked on with amusement. "I've truly left my manners at home today." Finally, Benedict shook them out onto his plate, as some spilled onto the carpet.

_He’s a slob, too. Wanda must have had some time keeping him in check when he lived at home. I can just imagine what his flat looks like.  
_

“So where’s Tess today?” asked Benedict sitting back in his chair and looking about the office. “Did you give her the day off?

“She’s not here today. Eddie had to take her to the vet for a checkup. Now, please stop trying to change the subject.”

“Fine,” sighed Benedict, clearly making his boredom known. “What were we talking about?”

_You can be sure a right bastard, Ben, and this is one of those times._

“I was about to say that you also can’t afford to anger the journalists.”

“Bloody hell! She baited me.”

“And you fell into her trap. Well done you again. You’re the journalist’s gift that keeps on giving.”

“You’re being rather cheeky today yourself, Karon. I’m sure other PR people don’t talk to their clients like this,” snapped Benedict. “Is it because I’m younger than you are, that you feel this need to lecture me as if you were my mum?”

_That’s because they probably don’t have clients who give them reason to like you give me. And, yes, you do bring out the mother in me. You inspire me to lecture you because you act like a dolt. You make me want to drag you out of that chair by the ear and toss you out in the hallway. I’d like to see you find another PR person who’s as patient as I am with you._

Karon decided it was best to ignore Benedict’s barbed comment for the time being.

“May I also remind you that if you ever make it big, you will go on these press junkets where you will be asked the same set of questions over and over until you want to scream your bloody head off. You’ve done precisely two interviews about this movie. This was a cake walk compared to the promotion involved for a major motion picture where you can do thirty or forty back-to-back five minute interviews over the course of a day.”

“Sorry, but she was an ignorant and boring interviewer.”

“And you sometimes have the attention span of an ant in interviews. You need to concentrate on what they are asking you and the repercussions of your responses.”

“Ah, but even you had to admit that once I made that comment about the suit, that was when the interview finally got interesting! Really, Karon, you’re making such a fuss over one little comment.”

“That one little comment, which led to a ten minute tirade on the evils of the Tory Party,” commented Karon wearily.

“I was just taking the piss out of her, and she seemed up to a bit of a debate. I really had her going there, didn’t I?”

“It _wasn’t_ funny, Ben. Not at all. You can’t just say whatever pops into your head because you never know the political affiliations of the interviewer until something like this happens,” said Karon sternly.

“It _was_ funny,” insisted Benedict. “I saw you having a quiet giggle behind me from the corner of my eye a few times.”

“She called you a posh socialist,” mused Karon, trying to hide a smile. “What an oxymoron.”

“That’s because she was a moron, so I took the opportunity to correct her and point out that I’m a proud member of the Labour Party.”

Karon shoved the newspaper across the desk at Benedict. “Well, she sure as hell didn’t write that. You’ve been labeled a posh socialist, who doesn’t support the Prime Minister or your chosen political party.”

“Bloody motherfucking hell! Why do these damn journalists always twist my words.”

“Because that’s what they do, Ben. It sells papers. You are the worst of both worlds: a journalist’s dream and a PR person’s nightmare.”

Benedict sighed deeply. “For fucks sake. And I’ve got to spend the weekend with the theatre critic from hell,” he muttered.

“What was that?”

“Nothing of importance.”

“I’ll release a statement that you are not a socialist and were just making an innocent joke about the Prime Minister for which you offer your sincerest apologies.”

“I’m not sincere, and I don’t apologize,” sniffed Benedict, nose in the air. He crossed his legs and rubbed his thigh. “I really should be going, Karon. I’m having dinner with my parents tonight.”

“What time are you expected?”

“I’m not. I’m surprising them.”

_I’m sure Wanda will love that.  Let's hope she's prepared enough food for three tonight._

“Well, before you take your leave, we need to sort out the _Creation_ premiere.”

“When is it?” asked Benedict, moving his chair closer to her desk so he could write in his diary, which had been resting on his lap.

“September thirteenth at the Curzon Mayfair Cinema. The after party will be at the Natural History Museum to coincide with the opening of their special exhibit on Darwin.”

Benedict flipped through the pages of his diary. “Yeah. I’ve got it entered right here.” He held up the diary so Karon could see that he had indeed entered it.

“How many tickets will you need? I’m assuming your parents will want to attend.”

“Of course. I’ll also be needing a plus one.”

“Not a problem. Are you bringing Adam Ackland along as your plus one yes?”

Benedict felt himself suddenly blush and rubbed his thigh furiously.

“Erm…not this time,” he replied shyly. “There’s someone else I’m inviting to be my plus one…a female someone who has become very important in my life.”

_Ah! It sounds like Ben has found himself a woman he wants to bring along as his date. That’s good. He’s been alone for too long. People start to ask questions._

“And who might this someone be?” inquired Karon, trying to sound nonchalant. “Do I know her?”

_I wonder if he’s gotten back with Olivia again. Oh, I don’t know if I can get back onto that PR roller coaster.  He's clearly nervous about telling me and what my reaction is going to be._

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck and smiled at her. “Nope. This is someone new…someone very dear and special to me.”

_Well, this is good news! Adam’s been his plus one since he broke up with Anna. I knew he was actively dating again, but this sounds serious!  
_

Karon’s face lit up, and she smiled brightly at him. “This is such unexpected and happy news, Ben! Tell me all about her. Did you just meet?”

“We commenced dating in February…or was it March? I’ll be damned if I can remember exactly when it was. I’m such rubbish with dates. Anyway, we met quite by accident at a restaurant, which happens to be my mate, Jamie Oliver’s place. It’s called Barbecoa. I seem to remember you and Eddie had gone there a couple of times. It’s in the shopping mall near Saint Paul’s. One Exchange Place,” explained Benedict, rubbing his upper lip with his index finger.

Karon nibbled on a ginger nut and nodded. “Eddie took me there for my last birthday. Smashing food; lovely unobtrusive service, not to mention that cracking view of Saint Paul’s.”

“We found ourselves sat at the same communal table and began a conversation. It’s quite a funny story actually, but I don’t have time to give you all the details. The point is that something clicked between us that night, and we realized we fancied each other. Since then I’ve fallen deeply in love with her…and she with me; so we’ve decided to enter into a committed relationship, which I hope will lead to marriage sometime next year.”

Karon stopped chewing and stared at Benedict pointedly. He suddenly felt uncomfortable.

_Oh, Benedict, did you just say too much to her? No. There’s nothing wrong in declaring my love for Donna to her or confiding my hopes and plans to her. We’ve been together for so long, I consider Karon like a friend or older sister. I’ve kept this quiet for so long, and now I feel it’s time to tell the world about our relationship._

_Well, well. So, this is what Ben has been hiding from me. I was wondering what was different about him these past few months. He seemed happier and more content with his life. I thought it was all the work and accolades that he’s been getting. The man’s in love._

“You’ve certainly managed to keep this a secret from me!” teased Karon with a grin. “Well done you.”

“It hasn’t been easy,” confessed Benedict, helping himself to another ginger nut. “I’ve been wanting to shout it from the rooftops.”

“On further reflection, I think I’m actually disappointed. I always assumed I could count on you to slip up and tell me all your secrets, but this time you didn’t.”

Benedict laughed. “After the last several dating disasters, I wanted to be absolutely sure that things were going to work out before I shared the news with anyone. We took things very slowly – even the physical aspect of our relationship…”  he stopped talking abruptly, and his face reddened considerably.

_That was too much information to share with me, Ben. I get the picture. You didn’t jump into bed with her straight away. I suppose better he tells me than some reporter._

“That’s why I was out of town last week. We went to Cornwall on holiday to spend time together. Yeah…we needed to have some time alone…to be together and …well, you know…relax,” Benedict raised his eyebrow at her and smiled smugly. “Actually, Donna had gone there to work; and I went along to have a nice little holiday, which I did except for the case of food poisoning. That was my fault for eating a tainted oyster.”

Karon’s cheeks coloured slightly as she drank the rest of her tea.

_Hmmm…I get the picture, Ben. You went along on her business trip for the express purpose of getting laid. He wants me to know that they waited to have sex and all’s well in his bed. That was something I didn’t really need to know, yet it’s paramount for my clients to be happy in their private lives. Okay, then, Ben’s in love, he's happy and it's serious. Check._

_Shit! Now, I’ve gone and made her feel uncomfortable. I seriously need to stop blurting out the intimate details of my sex life. Donna would not be pleased if she knew I blurted all that out._

“Wanda must be on cloud nine then,” mused Karon. “Has she begun making plans to turn your old bedroom into a nursery for grandbabies?”

“Not yet,” smiled Benedict. “But I can tell you that she and Dad adore Donna and are completely over the moon for us.”

Karon hesitated for a moment as she watched Benedict glance at his watch again and impatiently tap his fingers on the arm of the chair.

_Oh, Karon, you really need to ask him what she does for a living. You’ll not only need this information for down the road – should this one work out – but also for your own peace of mind. Just let her be a nice businesswoman or solicitor or doctor…anything but a bloody actress._

“Is your lady love in the entertainment field?”

“Well, I guess you could say she sort of is. However, it’s not the same end of the entertainment spectrum that I’m in.”

_How about just telling me what it is she does, Ben._

“She’s the restaurant critic who writes the weekly column for the Sunday London Tribune called _Tasty Travels_.”

Karon nodded and slowly let out the breath she had been holding with great relief.

_Thank God, it’s not another actress! I know who she is, too. Donna Saint something. Eddie’s an avid reader of Tasty Travels every Sunday, so he’ll be interested in this news. He’s always picking new restaurants to try based on her recommendations._

“Bloody hell, Karon! You look as if you’ve just won the lottery. I know how you despise dealing with celebrity couples, like when I was with Olivia.”

Karon almost spit out her tea at his words. She sputtered and began to cough.

“Are you alright?” asked Benedict with a worried expression as he leapt to his feet to assist her. “Let me get you some water.”

Karon waved at him to sit back down. “I’ll live,” she croaked. “I just swallowed the wrong way.”

_Oh, that was rich! Hahahah! You, my dear disillusioned client, are not a celebrity by a long shot. What you are is a talented and respected stage, voice and indie film actor with a decent reputation, excellent work ethic and a bedroom voice. Olivia is a struggling, albeit talented, actress, comedian and aspiring play and screen writer. Neither of you qualify to stand under the celebrity umbrella as of yet._

“I do not despise having to deal with couples in the entertainment business,” retorted Karon primly.

_I detest handling showbiz couples more than you’ll ever know, Ben. There are always problems cropping up - the conflicting egos and schedules, not to mention the affairs and subsequent breakups. Anna may have not been an actress, but she wasn’t suited to Ben’s temperament. That relationship was based purely on physical attraction. His long hands were all over her on the red carpet, bless him._

“What did you say her surname name is?”

“I didn’t. Her name is Donna Saint James, and I’m so in love with her that I can’t seem to function some days – my head is so high up in the clouds,” said Benedict with a dreamy look on his face.

_Well at least his head isn’t up his ass - yet. Better it be in the clouds._

“We get along wonderfully,” Benedict continued. “She’s smart as hell – someone I can hold an intelligent conversation with, and has a wicked sense of humour. We’re ridiculously compatible – in most areas – we share so many of the same likes and dislikes its uncanny! Oh, and did I mention that she’s beautiful? If I didn’t, she’s beautiful,” he gushed. “I have no idea what she sees in me, but I am so very, very thankful that she loves me to the same degree in return.”

_And now he’s going to say that it is an embarrassment of riches,_ mused Karon. _  
_

“It’s just an embarrassment of riches, Karon.”

_We really need to work on abolishing that phrase from his vocabulary._

“You deserve some happiness, Ben. I hope things work out the way you want them to.”

“Thank you.”

_Okay. Now that I know Ben’s in a relationship again, I need to find out if he’s planning on walking the red carpet with her. This is a smaller event, so it would be a good time to introduce her to the press as if they really care. He garners a certain amount of attention; but not anything that will get splashed all over the tabloids at this point. It would be good for his image to be seen with a date other than with his mate, Adam._

“So now that you have an official girlfriend, will she be walking the red carpet with you?”

Benedict began to open his mouth and quickly shut it.

_That’s a good question. I know Donna always seems excited when I tell her about all the invites I get. This is the first red carpet I’ve done since we’ve been together. I can’t imagine her not wanting to go with me._

“I don’t see why not.”

“I could. Has Donna ever been to a film premiere before?”

Benedict paused to think for a moment and shook his head. “Not that she’s mentioned.”

“I think you need to issue the invitation as soon as possible then. Once that’s been sorted, we’ll set up a meeting here; so I can explain to Donna what it entails. Some people can become easily overwhelmed by the red carpet experience.”

“Hell, _I’m_ overwhelmed by all the shit that goes on; and its part of my job.”

_I only know that too well. We’ve been doing this since 2002, and he still hasn’t gotten it down, bless him. Someday I should just record my instructions and play it back for him every time we go to a premiere in order to conserve my breath._

Karon handed Benedict a small, brown envelope. “Here are the tickets for your parents. I’ll hold the ones for you and Donna since we’ll be riding together.”

“I promise I’ll discuss this with Donna tonight. I’m sure she’ll be excited as fuck about going.”

_Don’t be so cocky, Ben. You haven’t asked her yet. I have several clients whose significant others won’t walk the red carpet for various reasons. Some even prefer to stay home and skip the whole thing.  I walk it with Eddie as his PR person, not his significant other because we prefer to keep that quiet._

“Just confirm it back to me, so I can submit the RSVPs and set up a short meeting with her as soon as possible for coaching.”

Benedict scratched his head and pursed his lips. “I’m thinking that I can coach Donna on how to act properly on the red carpet.”

“No, Ben. You can’t. _You_ still need to be coached on red carpet behaviour,” said Karon with finality.

_You’re awfully cheeky yourself today, Ms. Maskill_ , thought Benedict. _Sometimes I swear I can hear her talking in Mum’s voice.  
_

Karon looked at her computer screen and nodded to herself. “Looks like Friday morning would be the best time for me to meet with Donna.”

“But I won’t be able to make it. I have to be in Wales.”

Karon smiled slyly across the desk at him. “Even better then! It will give us time to get to know each other without you monopolizing the conversation.”

_Without me monopolizing the conversation. Very cheeky, Karon. How much do I pay her to insult me every month?_

“I also have to make the booking for the limo now. Assuming for argument’s sake that Donna’s attending, shall I arrange for the driver to collect you in Hampstead and go to her flat or will you both be leaving from the same location?”

“We’re not actually living together, but it makes sense to only have one pickup.”

_Good. I hate having to arrange for multiple pickups that involve driving all over London. Too bad this film didn’t have a big enough budget to book the actors into hotel rooms to dress in and depart from. That is so much easier._

“I’m thinking we’ll get dressed at Donna’s flat because there’s more room, and she lives in Central London. Have the driver collect us there.”

Karon pushed a pad across the desk to Benedict. “I’ll need Donna’s address and mobile number in case the driver needs to contact her. I’m looking forward to meeting her.”

Benedict wrote down Donna’s contact information and handed the pad back to Karon. “And I’m looking forward to introducing you to her. I know you’re going to like Donna very much.”

“I hope she’s receptive to the idea of walking the red carpet with you,” said Karon.

“I don’t see any reason why she would be adverse to it. Besides I’m so looking forward to showing her off to the world.”

_Let’s hope she wants to be shown off, Ben. Sometimes people can surprise you,_ thought Karon Maskill as she poured herself another cup of tea.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I’ve decided to portray Karon Maskill as a tough-love, older sister-like figure in this story. I have no idea what her actual personality is like. I imagine her as being on the Bohemian side.
> 
> 2\. I don’t visualize Benedict being an easy PR client in real life, thus he will not be in this story. 
> 
> 3\. The Eddie I refer to is Eddie Izzard, who is also one of Karon’s clients. I had read rumors of them having a relationship a while back, and decided to use it in this story. Therefore, Eddie will be Karon’s partner in this universe.
> 
> 4\. Tess refers to Karon’s bulldog, which she has been known to take to work. 
> 
> 5\. I have no idea how movie premieres and red carpets work. I’m just making it up as I go along to fit this universe.


	94. Chapter 94

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Wanda and Timothy receive a surprise dinner guest, who gives them indigestion. 
> 
> Note: I’ll be using ************* to indicate things happening at the same time.

 

 

“I’m so chuffed you and Ben had an enjoyable time,” grunted Wanda Ventham, as she dragged a shoe box out of the wardrobe in the foyer of her Kensington flat. Wanda had been chatting with Donna Saint James for the past half hour while she was cleaning out her foyer wardrobe.

**“Are you sure you’re not busy, Wanda?” inquired Donna.**

“No. Not at all. I’m just multi-tasking whilst we chat. I’m cleaning out the wardrobe in the foyer,” explained Wanda, moving her mobile that had been trapped between her chin and shoulder to her left hand. “It’s amazing what one can find hidden in the back of a wardrobe. As you were, Love.”

**“It was perfect, except for your son getting food poisoning,” said Donna. “I don’t know what possessed Benedict to just swallow something that tasted off.”**

Wanda pried the box open with her free hand. Inside was a pair of four-inch high, gold glitter-flecked, black patent leather platform shoes.

_Hells bells! I’ve been wondering whatever became of these shoes. Now, I know._

“Haven’t we all swallowed something that tastes off at one time or another?” chuckled Wanda in a bawdy tone.

**_Hmmm…I’ve been swallowing something that tastes off. Your son’s semen. Thank God, Benedict came up with the Kleenex option._  
**

**“Yeah. You make a good point, Wanda. I’ve done that a few times fairly recently, now that I think about it.”**

There was silence on the line.

 **_Shit! She knows what I meant. Oh, well, it’s not like she’s just hearing this for the first time, thanks to Benedict’s naughty text finger that morning we had breakfast at the Blackberry Bramble Inn_ ** _._

_I wonder if she’s referring to swallowing when giving Ben a blow job. It would make perfect sense. I’ve never been a huge fan of swallowing either, and I’ve been doing it a lot longer than she has._

Wanda cleared her throat. “Well, then. As long as he’s recovered, that’s what counts.”

 

***********************************************

 

Benedict Cumberbatch strolled out of the Kensington High Street tube station and headed for his parents flat. He spit out the wad of nicotine gum he had been chewing into a tissue and shoved it in the front pocket of his jeans.

_I dread having to tell them about Donna’s parents and the plans for the weekend. They are going to go ballistic on me. I can’t even imagine the look on Mum’s face when I tell her._

He rounded the corner and the familiar white mews house came into sight. He could see that Timothy had planted different flowers in the window boxes that lined the balcony railing.  

_Pink and red petunias. Those look smashing. OH! Shit. I need to ring Karon and let her know about the premiere before I forget, and she decides to hunt me down with knives._

Benedict pulled out his mobile, hit the speed dial button for Karon and waited. After four rings, her answerphone picked up.

 **“You have reached Karon Maskill’s voicemail. After the tone, leave your name and number along with a short message; and I’ll ring you back as soon as feasible. If this constitutes an emergency, kindly …”** _  
_

_I guess Karon’s done taking calls for the day. At least she won’t be able to rag on me about that little item Jimmy saw in the Sun about my starting my own political party. Hahaha!  
_

The message tone finally sounded, alerting Benedict that it was time to begin speaking. _  
_

“Hello, Karon, its Benedict. I just left Donna’s flat. The invitation has been extended, and I’m happy to report that your concerns were unfounded. Donna is utterly over the moon about going with me to the _Creation_ premiere. She is also totally fine with walking the red carpet as my official girlfriend…”

**Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeppppppppppppppppp  
**

_Bloody hell! I ran out her message. I hate her voice mail. I told her the message capacity should be longer._

Benedict quickly rang Karon back and waited for the tone so he could continue this message.

_Donna hugged me so tight; I thought she’d crush my ribs. I’ve never seen her so excited and happy about seeing a film. I suppose it’s all the hoopla surrounding it that she finds attractive. She just beamed at the idea of being seen as my official girlfriend.  
_

Once again, the tone sounded indicating that he could leave a message.

“Hi Karon. It’s Benedict again. You’ve got the shortest voicemail message capacity I’ve ever encountered! Anyway, I told Donna you wanted to meet with her to discuss red carpet protocol, and she’ll be happy to come around to your office Friday. Since her parents will be arriving that morning from New York, Donna said she’d prefer early in the morning. Please ring her back with whatever time is convenient for you. I already gave you her mobile number earlier.”

_I loved how Donna ran across the hall to tell Andrew and then went downstairs to share the news with Carly and Steven. Oh, that reminds me._

“Do you think…”

**Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeppppppppppppppppp**

_Motherfucking voicemail! I ran out her message again!_

Benedict quickly rang Karon back and continued his message, trying to keep the sheer frustration out of his voice.

“Hi Karon. Its Benedict for what I hope is the last time. Your cheeky voicemail decided to cut me off yet again. I guess it was trying to tell me that I was talking too much. I really wish you’d consider getting one with longer message capacity. Anyway, there was another thing. Do you think you can get two more tickets for the premiere and add two more to our limo? Donna would like to issue an invite to her sister and brother-in-law. It’s her twin sister – they’re fraternal twins – and they are very close. Have them put on the guest list as Dr. and Mrs. Steven Cipriano. That’s C- Charlie, I -India, P –Papa ,R- Romeo, I- India, A -Alpha, N -November, O- Oscar. They live in the same building as Donna, so you won’t need to have them collected separately. You might need to arrange for a larger limo though. So that’s about it for now. Yeah. Donna said to tell you that she’s looking forward to meeting with you. We’ll talk soon. Cheers!”

 _Okay. Now that the premiere business has been sorted, I need to tackle my remaining chore for the day. It’s time to get this over with. I hope Mum made something tasty for dinner,_ thought Benedict Cumberbatch as he got out his keys to unlock the door to the mews house.

 

**************************************************

 

Timothy Carlton walked past the foyer to see his wife’s bum sticking out of the wardrobe. He could hear her chatting away, and paused to listen to her side of the conversation.

“…Oh, I’m so, so sorry he put you through that, Donna! Unfortunately, that’s how Ben is.”

_Ah, she’s speaking with Donna. I know they’ve been playing phone tag all day. I wonder what she wanted to talk to Wanda about, besides reporting that Barrister Ben appeared on their holiday. At least that’s how it sounds to me._

Timothy moved closer in order to hear Wanda’s side of the conversation better.

“Yes. Ever since Ben was a small, he’s fancied himself as being quite the expert at minding everyone else’s business.”

_Isn’t that the truth. I was hoping he’d outgrow it, but no such luck._

“I can’t tell you how many times we used to get calls from the Headmaster and Mistress at Brambletye – that was the prep school we sent him to as soon as he got out of primary school.”  

_I used to cringe when the phone used to ring. It was always something. The boy – and now the man – suffers from terminal nosiness._

“Oh, you’ll get quite a charge out of this, Donna. One time there was a big flood at the school, and it was all swishing about in the basement and the Headmistress and Master were standing there looking appalled, and Ben stuck his head through their legs and said ‘Goodness, that’s a terrible mess, isn’t it’. And the Master said ‘Come along, Cumberbatch’. It’s funny now, but it wasn’t then.”

“It most certainly wasn’t funny at the time!” agreed Timothy from behind her.

Wanda carefully backed out of the closet, holding onto a shoe box with its lid ajar. She smiled at her husband.

“There you are! I thought you’d gone to the library.”

“I got back about twenty minutes ago. I guess you didn’t hear me come in.”

“This seems to happen a lot in this house!”

“What are you doing in the closet, Pet?”

Timothy could hear Donna’s muffled voice coming from Wanda’s mobile.

“It’s Tim. He’s back from the library,” said Wanda into her mobile. Then she said to Timothy. “I’m having a chat with Donna. She says hello.”

“Hello back to Donna,” chuckled Timothy. “Did they have an enjoyable time in Cornwall then?”

“Tim says hello,” conveyed Wanda. Then she turned the conversation back to Timothy. “Donna’s been filling me in. They had an absolutely lovely holiday even though she had to work.”

“Jolly good then. I thought something had gone awry.”

“Well, Ben got food poisoning, which is why they stayed on longer. Can you believe he actually ate a foul-tasting oyster?”

Timothy shook his head. “Bloody hell! Why didn’t he spit it out? Did he have a sudden attack of shyness in front of Donna?”

Wanda shrugged and spoke into her mobile. “Tim just asked why Ben ate the oyster even though it tasted off. He wants to know if he suddenly became shy about spitting it out in front of you. Tim is joking, of course.”

Timothy stood by patiently as Wanda listened to Donna’s response and laughed uproariously. “Donna said she’ll be damned if she could understand why and that if there is one thing she’s learnt about him during this holiday is that our Ben is anything but shy.”

“Our Ben is many things, and shy isn’t one of them,” agreed Timothy.

Wanda listened to something else Donna said and began to giggle furiously.

“I’m glad to hear he’s finally figured out how to use one properly then. One time when we were on holiday in Madrid, our room had a bidet; and Benedict decided it would be a fine place to sail his toy ship. He must have been four at the time. Remember Tim?”

“I still remember the extra charges the hotel tacked on our bill vividly,” lamented Timothy.

“Well, Ben being the ever-curious one decides to flush the ship to see what would happen; and of course, the bloody thing got stuck in the pipes. Despite his being sat in the corner and reprimanded, this happened three times; and we were presented with quite a large plumbing bill when we left.”

Wanda paused to listen to Donna and guffawed, slapping her thigh.  "Oh Dear, that must have been quite the mess, but I agree he's too old to be sat in the corner!  Hahahaha! Well, it is good to hear he's still has that inquisitiveness.  Oh, yes....I agree....the maid must have been wondering what you two were doing with all that chocolate....good.  Yes, I would have left quite a generous tip, too, had Tim and I done something like that!"

 _And before I find out more than I already don’t need to know, I will take this as my cue to retire to the lounge and read my book,_ thought Timothy.

"Tim, could you take this, please," said Wanda, holding out a shoebox.

Timothy accepted the shoe box from Wanda and inspected the contents. “Oh, your platform disco shoes,” he cackled. “Fancy slipping them on whilst I put on some old records? I think I recall how to do the hustle. I just replaced the needle on the record player, so just say the word.”

He could hear Donna ask Wanda what it was she had found.

“Oh, I found some old shoes back from the seventies; and Tim asked me if I fancied a dance,” Wanda responded. “No. I could never walk in those at this point, let alone dance in them! I’m going to donate them to the charity shop that our local church runs.”

Timothy watched as Wanda listened to what Donna was saying. She covered the mouthpiece with her hand.

“She’s been telling me that Barrister Ben made several appearances during their holiday. This call was to warn us that he’s suspicious of our behaviour.”

“That doesn’t come as a complete surprise,” snorted Timothy. “I think I’ll leave you two to your chat then, and you can fill me in later on whatever it is I need to know. I’ll add these to the box with the other items you put aside to donate.”

“Jolly good. I’m heading back in while Donna and I continue our chat. I see some more things in here,” said Wanda as she partially disappeared into the wardrobe. “You would not believe what we’ve got stored back here, Donna!”

 

*****************************************************

 

Benedict Cumberbatch got off the lift and unlocked the door to his parents flat. He pushed it open and was greeted with the sound of the Bee Gees old disco song, _Night Fever_. He smiled with amusement as he softly closed the door behind him.

_Mum and Dad must have fancied a trip down memory lane this evening! Maybe I’m going to catch them doing the hustle again. I sincerely hope not. Last time we had to take a trip to the A &E when Dad threw his back out after he dipped Mum. I’d better go have a look and cut in if I have to._

“Hello? Isn’t the disco open rather early tonight?” Benedict called out in a cheerful voice.

 

****************************************************

 

Timothy finished placing Wanda’s old shoes in the donations box they kept in Tracy’s former room. He hefted it and grimaced slightly.

_I think this one is ready to go. If it gets any heavier, I won’t be able to manage it. Perhaps I should call them to come around and collect it or ask Ben to drop it off the next time he’s in the neighbourhood.  
_

He walked back down the hallway into the lounge and went straight to the old record player, humming to himself.

 _I do believe it’s time for some music and a nice pre-dinner cocktail with my beautiful wife,_ thought Timothy as he selected an old record album and placed the vinyl disk on the old-fashioned turntable. _A nice apricot sour would hit the spot. Let me check with Wanda and see if she’s in the mood for one. If not, I’ll make us a couple of gin and tonics.  
_

As Timothy approached the foyer, he heard Benedict’s voice calling out over the music.

“Hello? Isn’t the disco open rather early tonight?”  

 

**************************************************

 

“I can’t believe I just found an old down parka of Ben’s in here,” mused Wanda, adding it to the small pile of old coats on the floor of the wardrobe. “It must be from his Harrow days.”

 **“I bet he’d want it back if he knew you had it,”** **laughed Donna. “The man believes in throwing nothing away.”**

Wanda felt herself blush. “I suppose Ben gets his…thriftiness from me. Even if he did want this coat, I doubt it would still fit him. He’s much taller now. The sleeves would almost assuredly be too short.” _  
_

**“You don’t seem very concerned about Benedict’s suspicions, Wanda,” said Donna steering the subject back on track. “I think we’ve got to step up our vigilance when trying to …umm…protect our little secret.”**

“I prefer to call it the preservation of the plan.”

 **“Gosh, Wanda, what if he finds out? Then we’re all screwed. I think he’s getting awful close to figuring out the truth _.”_** _  
_

“You’re right. If he finds out, we are all screwed - as you so aptly put it. However, I don’t think it’s anything to be concerned about. As you’ve said, we must all be extra vigilant when in his company.” **  
**

**“That’s much easier said than done,”** **scoffed Donna.** **“Like I told you, Wanda, he really tried to rake me over the coals a few times, but I was able to shut him down.”**

“Brilliant! It’s paramount when dealing with Barrister Ben that one knows how to shut him down quickly. Well done, Donna.”

**“I just wish I had something besides sex to distract him with.”**

_Ah!  The tried and true universal distraction for a man:  sex.  Works every time._

Wanda chuckled.  "Sex is an excellent distraction, Love."

**"Oh, shit.  I didn't mean to blurt that out, Wanda.  Please excuse my rudeness.  After all, you are Benedict's mother and..."**

_Who does this bird think she's talking to -  the Virgin Mary?  She needs to lighten up._

"Donna!  Please dispense with the apology.  My son is a grown man in a loving relationship.  Grown men in loving relationships have sex. I haven't been a maiden in years, so feel free to say whatever you fancy to me.  Nothing is going to surprise or shock me at this point in my life."

**"Thank you for understanding, Wanda.  I could never speak so freely to my own mother."**

"I'm here for you anytime, Donna.  Now, as for Ben, he’ll be busy with his new projects soon, so that will certainly distract him. If I recall, the Van Gogh movie will be filmed on location, so you won’t be seeing him for a few weeks. There’s only so much interrogating Barrister Ben can do via the phone.”

 **“That’s right, and let us not forget that phone connections are made to be broken,”** **giggled Donna.** **“Oh, that sounded awful, didn’t it?”**

“No. It didn’t. I’ve experienced many inexplicable, broken phone connections in the middle of a cross examination by Barrister Ben myself,” tittered Wanda. “Sometimes it’s the only to deal with him, Love.” _  
_

**“He just makes me so nervous! I feel as if he’s trying to trip me up.”  
**

“That’s because he is, bless him. Barrister Ben’s mission is to trip you up in his quest for the truth!”

 

********************************************************

 

Timothy moved as quickly as he could into the foyer in time to see Wanda’s bum shielded from Benedict’s view by the open wardrobe door. He could hear her rummaging around inside.

_Shit! Wanda must still be yacking with Donna and didn’t hear him come in. Hell, I didn’t hear him come in. That damn music is too loud. I really need to get my hearing checked. The only saving grace is that the music also seems to be covering up the noise in the wardrobe. Ben doesn’t seem to have heard it yet.  
_

Timothy was just in time to hear a snippet of Wanda’s side of the conversation: _  
_

“That’s because he is, bless him. Barrister Ben’s mission is to trip you up in his quest for the truth!”

_NO! Wanda’s talking about him! I hope to Christ Benedict hasn’t heard anything._

Benedict had just shrugged off the navy blue cotton cardigan he had been wearing and started to head for the wardrobe in order to hang it up.

_Motherfucker! Now, he decides to hang the bloody thing up? He’s always tossing his clothes all over the furniture and now he decides that neatness is next to Godliness. Did he happen to hear her over the music and this is his way of getting closer to the source so he can investigate?  
_

 

*********************************************

 

“Hello? Isn’t the disco open rather early tonight?”  

Wanda Ventham froze as her son’s deep baritone voice reached her ears.

_Bloody hell! Ben’s here! I’m lucky I heard him over the damn Bee Gees!_

**“Wanda? Are you there?”** **Donna asked with concern in her voice.**

“Speaking of Barrister Ben, he’s just surprised us. I can’t talk,” whispered Wanda urgently.

 **“OH NO!”** **exclaimed Donna.** **“Did he hear anything you said to me?”  
**

“I’m sure I’m about to find out,” whispered Wanda, dread pooling in the pit of her stomach as she considered her few options. **  
**

 

**********************************************

 

“Not only is the Cumberbatch Disco open early tonight, but you’re in luck as the bar is as well. Fancy a drink?” said Timothy with a jovial laugh as he quickly closed the gap between himself and his son. “I was just about to mix up a batch of apricot sours.”

“Oh yeah! I’d adore one,” replied Benedict. “I haven’t had one in an age. Let me just hang this up, and I’ll give you a hand. Drink garnishes are my specialty!”

_You’re not hanging up anything in that wardrobe, Benedict. I need to do damage control, and you’re in my way. Let’s hope Wanda is able to figure out the method to my madness. I never thought I would be calling upon my improvisational skills so often! That acting school was worth every quid. I just wish I were using them more on the stage rather than in real life.  
_

Timothy passed the wardrobe, glancing in at his unsuspecting wife’s rear end as he successfully blocked Benedict’s path to it.

_I’m so sorry, my Love, but this has to be done in order to preserve the plan._

Timothy reached out and swiftly plucked the sweater from Benedict’s hand.

“Let me do that while you go surprise your mother,” he said, tossing the sweater into the wardrobe and abruptly pushing the door shut against Wanda’s backside as Benedict headed into the lounge.

“Something smells wonderful…mmmm…my nose detects her famous roast chicken. I take it Mum’s in the kitchen then?” called back Benedict over his shoulder.

_No. I’m afraid she’s in the wardrobe, hopefully not on the floor. How I hated to have to do that, but desperate people must take desperate measures.  
_

********************************************

 

“Let me do that while you go surprise your mother,” came Timothy’s voice.

Wanda was caught off guard by something landing on her head as the wardrobe door was abruptly being shut against her ample bum, shoving her forward into the darkness and causing her to lose her balance.

“Oooofffff!!!!” Wanda cried out as she landed on top of the pile of coats, mobile falling out of her hand and clattering onto the floor.

 _What the fuck is this on my head?_ thought Wanda as she reached up and removed what seemed to be a cardigan from her head.  Her nostrils were filled with the scent of Attimo cologne.  _This is Ben's cardigan.  I can smell his cologne a kilometer a way.  Now I get it.  Tim was trying to circumvent him from hanging it up in here._

**“Wanda? Are you alright? What happened?” came Donna’s panicked voice from the floor.  
**

Wanda spied her mobile beside her on the floor and quickly retrieved it. _  
_

_Thank God for the lit display screens on these things. I hope they didn’t hear me cry out when I fell. Tim also must have shut the door on me so Ben couldn't hear my conversation._

Wanda paused to listen. She couldn’t hear anything but the Bee Gees singing their hearts out.

_The music must be masking any noise I’ve made, bless my husband’s penchant for loud music._

**“Wanda? Are you okay?”** _  
_

“I’m okay, Donna. I’m sat here on a pile of old coats in a darkened wardrobe is all.”

**“What happened? Where’s Benedict? Did he hear you talking to me?”**

“It seems my husband just shoved me into the wardrobe and shut the door, so Benedict wouldn’t hear me. Apparently, he decided to drop in for dinner on a whim…”

**“Oh, it’s not exactly a whim. He wants to talk to you and Tim about my parents visit.”**

Wanda felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

_What fresh hell is this? Did I just hear her correctly or did she say that her parents are coming to visit?_

Wanda swallowed hard and tried her best to sound composed. “They’re coming to London? When might that be?”

 _My voice almost cracked. I wonder if Donna noticed. I need to be calm and collected_. _  
_

**“Friday morning. Benedict and I think it would be nice if we all got together on Sunday.”**

_Oh, he did, did he? That doesn’t sound like my Benedict. He should know better than to put us in the same room with her prick of a father. This reeks of being more her idea and Benedict went along with it so as not to upset the apple cart. There is so much I want to say right now, but I don’t want to hurt Donna’s feelings.  
_

“Well. That sounds just lovely,” said Wanda, mustering all the pleasantness she was capable of at the moment. “I look forward to meeting them, and I’m sure Tim will too.”

_And I’m going straight to hell for lying to her. Tim is going to go through the roof when he hears about this little surprise. Donna must know that we know who her father is. Benedict surely broached the subject with her by now. I can’t fathom his keeping something like that from her, as it’s bound to come out sooner or later; and it looks like its sooner. I have a feeling her parents must also know who we are. What a right mess this is! We’re all tiptoeing around each other for fear of hurt feelings. I’ll worry about that once I get out of this fucking wardrobe and hear what my son has to say. Let me get just get Donna back on topic and reinforce the importance of keeping mum one last time._

_  
_

*****************************************************

 

“Well, its good to know that nothing can fool that nose of yours, Ben,” smiled Timothy, following at his son’s heels. “Yes, indeed, your mother is roasting a chicken tonight. It’s a good thing you thought to surprise us on a night when she was making enough food for unexpected company.”

Benedict stopped and looked sheepishly at his father. “I’m sorry. I should have called to let her know I was dropping by.”

_For fucks sake! I just can’t win with them. First they tell me: You don’t have to call before you come over, Ben. This is still your home. Now, I guess we’re back to: You need to call before you come over, Ben. They are going to make me bonkers._

_My son must think we’re awfully fickle. We’re always giving him conflicting information. This time a call would have been appreciated, so of course he just shows up. However, to be completely fair to him, we had no idea he’d catch Wanda in a compromising position.  
_

Timothy smiled at his son.  “Let’s tend to those drinks whilst we have a proper catchup shall we?”

_I have no idea where I’m going to tell him Wanda is when he sees she’s not in the kitchen. It’s not like this place is so big we can lose track of each other easily. I could say she’s up on the roof terrace, picking herbs; but then she’ll come in empty-handed, which Barrister Ben will assuredly notice and question.  
_

“Oh, shit. I left my mobile in my cardi pocket. Tell Mum I’ll be right in,” said Benedict, turning on his heel and swiftly trotting back to the foyer.

 _I suppose you can tell her yourself,_ thought Timothy, smacking his palm to his forehead in frustration.

 

****************************************************

 

Wanda Ventham was sat on the floor of the wardrobe, listening to Donna’s response to her quick lecture on the importance of not letting Benedict find out about the plan. Satisfied that she hadn’t broken anything, Wanda decided to get up and crack open the door to make sure the coast was clear.

_I’m hoping Timothy had the good sense to take Ben into the kitchen, so I can make my getaway. I’ll sneak out, go into the hallway and pretend I was up on the roof terrace picking herbs for dinner. No. That won’t work because Ben will notice my empty hands. I’ll say I was in the loo.  
_

Donna’s words suddenly caught Wanda’s attention. **  
**

**“I have to be honest with you, Wanda. I came close to telling him about the plan the Sunday I came over for lunch. I so wanted to just come clean, but Tim stopped me just in time. I’m sure he’s told you what happened. That day was so tense. We all came so close to slipping up.” _  
_**

“The important thing still remains that we didn’t slip; and the secret remains safe from Ben, which is all that matters.” **  
**

**“There are times when I wish we could tell him, but I do understand why we can’t. After spending so much time together these past two weeks, I find I love him all the more. We’re just a perfect fit in every way, and I would never want to do anything to jeopardize my losing him or destroying your relationship with him.”  
**

“Jolly good then. Now, Donna, you must promise me that even in your weakest moments, you will never, _ever_ compromise the plan. Benedict will never understand and there will be hell to pay – for all of us! He can never, ever find out. I can’t stress this enough.”

Suddenly, the wardrobe door swung open, flooding the small area with bright light from the foyer, causing Wanda to blink. There stood Benedict, gazing down at her, ice blue eyes twinkling, hands resting on his slender hips.

“What will I never understand?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. “Sounds like someone has a secret they want to keep from me.”

Wanda looked from her son to the mobile in her hand, as she tried her best not to panic.

_I can’t let him know its Donna on the other end. I would have too much to explain. As far as he knows, I’ve only met her a little over three weeks ago; and she’s been with him for almost two of them. It’s best to keep it simple and believable. Talking to Judi would be believable. Diana or Una he’d only want to talk to._

“I’ve got to go now, Judi. Ben’s just walked in. Talk later then? Cheers!”

“What are you doing sat on a pile of coats on the floor in the dark talking with Judi?”

_Hells bells, time to draw upon my acting skills. I swear I act more at home than I do on the stage and screen combined.  
_

“I wanted some privacy, and this seemed the best place to do it so your father wouldn’t hear me.”

“You do know that there are these red box-like things called phone booths on the High Street. You could have gone outside for a walk as an excuse and used one or better still taken your mobile with you. This is one of those times when having a dog to walk would have come in handy.”

“I don’t recall you ever going out to use a phone booth on the High Street whenever you wanted privacy. You either went up onto the roof terrace if the weather was nice or came in here,” retorted Wanda with a toss of her head.

“Let me help ye up, Mother,” said Benedict holding out his hands in order to help Wanda get to her feet. “Is that my old green parka I see?”

_Bollocks!  He's seen that old parka.  Now he's going to want to rescue it from the donation box._

“Umm…yes it is; and before you get any ideas about rescuing it, you’re much too tall to fit into it properly,” laughed Wanda as Benedict kissed both her cheeks. “You’re looking well and rested, Love.”

“Its amazing what food poisoning can do for a person,” joked Benedict. “Shall I get those?” he asked indicating the pile of discarded coats.

“Please.”

“Where do you want them?”

“We keep a box in Tracy’s old room to store donations,” chimed in Timothy from behind them. “As a matter of fact, I’d appreciate it if you could drop the box off at the churches’ charity shop on your way back to the tube station. I think it’s a bit more than I can manage with this back of mine.”

“Of course,” said Benedict squatting down and scooping up the coats. “I’ll meet you two in the kitchen. You did say something about it being cocktail time, Dad?”

Timothy laughed merrily and nodded. “That I did. Three apricot sours coming tout suite!”

“Make mine extra strong,” muttered Wanda, as she followed Timothy into the kitchen and dropped into one of the chairs. She took a couple of deep breaths and held her head in her hands.

“Thank God you showed up when you did! I sensed I was about to be interrogated!” she exclaimed. “He had that gleam in his eye. You know, the one he always gets when Barrister Ben is about to commence with questioning.”

“You’re not out of the woods yet, Pet. By the way, my apologies for shoving you into the wardrobe without notice; but Ben was about to hang his cardigan up.”

“I was wondering about that. Benedict never hangs anything up.”

“Well, this time he was going to. I was certain it was because he had heard you talking to Donna and needed to get closer to the wardrobe in order to hear better.”

“I have him convinced that I was talking to Judi.”

Timothy opened the liquor cabinet and removed his cocktail shaker along with the bottle of apricot brandy and a box of sour mix.  

“Do we have a plan, Commander? I hope you realize that this is just a temporary reprieve. You know damn well he won’t let it drop until he’s satisfied.”

Wanda nodded and got to her feet. “Yes, actually I do have a plan; however I need you to leave the room for a few minutes so I can launch it. Maybe go up to the roof terrace and cut me some parsley and tarragon.”

“I got you some earlier.”

“I’ll use these for garnish.”

“Shouldn’t I have a clue as to what the cover story is in case he decides to interrogate me as well?”

“No! You’re the reason for the cover story, but you can’t be in on it. Now, off you go then. Just fetch me the herbs and I’ll deal with Barrister Ben.”

As soon as Timothy left the room, Wanda busied herself with putting a pot of water on the stove in order to steam some broccoli when Benedict entered the kitchen and inhaled deeply.

“Smells like your famous roasted chicken with tarragon sauce, yes?”

Wanda smiled and nodded. “You smell correctly, bless that highly trained nose of yours,”  she teased him.

“What can I do to help?” Benedict inquired, rubbing his hands together.

“For a start you can take the roasting pan out of the oven, so I can baste the chicken.”

Benedict pulled on a set of oven mitts, opened the oven door and extracted the heavy roasting pan. He set it on the hot pad Wanda had placed on the countertop and watched as she basted the pan juices over the plump, golden-skinned bird.

“Nothing smells as good as your chicken, Mum. What sort of veggies did you make with it?”

“Potatoes, parsnips, carrots and Cipollini onions; and I’m going to steam some broccoli in addition.”

“So are you going to tell me what your secret is that I’ll _never_ understand and can never, _ever_ find out about or there will be hell to pay?” _  
_

_And thus the interrogation begins. I’m ready for you, Barrister Ben._

“I don’t have any secrets,” declared Wanda defensively, stirring the vegetables in the pan so they would brown evenly in the drippings.

Benedict returned the pan to the oven and removed the mitts.   He leaned his slim hips back against the cabinet; arms crossed over his chest and regarded Wanda. His face wore a hurt expression.  When he struck that pose, it reminded Wanda of a younger version of Timothy when he used to adopt the same post. 

“Oh, yes you do. I distinctly heard you say: Benedict will never understand and there will be hell to pay – for all of us! He can never, ever find out. I can’t stress this enough. That was pretty brutal, Mum. I’m not that bad, am I? You really made me sound like a horrible person. What kind of secret would cause you to say such a thing about me?”

Wanda suddenly felt a pang of remorse. _I never meant to hurt his feelings, not for one minute!_

“You’re not a horrible person, Benedict! Not at all!”

“Then why say that to Judi? What kind of secret would cause you to say that? It must be something serious.”   Suddenly, Benedict’s face grew ashen. “Oh God. Something is wrong with you or Dad, and you don’t want me to know! Oh God. You must tell me! Please!”

“Calm down, Ben. It’s nothing like that. Both Dad and I are fine.”

Benedict pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed deeply with relief. “That’s good to hear. You really had frightened the shit out of me for a minute.”

“It’s just that this is a pretty important secret, and I can’t afford to have you inadvertently come out with it or everything will be ruined.”

“Isn’t is just. You know recently I actually thought I’ve been much improved when it came to keeping secrets. I’ve never let it slip to Dad about your looking at those nude photos on the internet or corresponding with that man in Sweden and the one in Italy…”

_Christ on a crutch! He remembers everything, except for important dates and names. Those he’s rubbish with._

“I told you, _Benedict_. It was the Olympic Mens Swim Team. They were wearing speedos.”

Benedict snickered. “And I told you that I’m more than qualified to recognize a willy when I see one.”

“As for Lars, we’re just pen pals. He’s a chef, and we swap recipes.”

Benedict gazed at her thoughtfully and smiled indulgently.

“I could swear I saw one of his emails to you, and he was sending you love poems, not recipes. Oh, my darling one, how your eyes shine like sparkling aquamarine jewels in an ocean of blue raspberry jelly…” Benedict began to quote from the email. Then he collapsed into a fit of giggles. “Really, Mum. How utterly ridiculous was that?”

Wanda’s face turned scarlet. “For fucks sake, Benedict! Lars is much younger than I am - by about twenty years. And Pietro is a retired actor, so we like to talk shop is all. It’s totally innocent.”

_I read some of those emails. Mum was definitely flirting with them._

“And I never, _ever_ said anything to Olivia about the extensive collection of porn films and magazines you have stashed away in the back of your bedroom wardrobe.”

“I binned them once Donna started sleeping over. She’s very…curious.”

Wanda laughed. “That’s rich! You’ve gone and found yourself a bird who’s every bit as nosy as you are!”

“ _Curious_. Donna is curious.”

The two pairs of ice blue eyes locked. Benedict raised an eyebrow at her.

“I also never, _ever_ said a word to Dad about our little secret Mother’s Day tradition where you come around to my flat; and we share a bottle of wine and a spliff. Not what I would call that a…typical thing for a mother and son to do, eh?” he snickered.

“Does Donna know about our little tradition?”

Benedict suddenly looked horrified. “Fuck no! Donna can be very judgmental at times! She’d never understand or condone my occasional use of weed!”

“Well, I promise you that she’ll never hear it from me, Ben.”

“Thank you, Mum. Now, what can I do to prove that I’m worthy of keeping this secret you are so convinced I would ruin.”

“Oh, Benedict, my darling son, it’s not that you do it purposefully. You just have a bad habit of leaving your mouth filter off and wind up blurting out things out that you shouldn’t. Believe me, there is nothing more I’d rather do than to share this with you, because it is so…so…special...”

_If I were really going to do this, it would be only natural to involve him from the start._

…and, you really should be involved.” _  
_

_I am now on the express train to hell with a window seat._

Wanda quickly took a peek out into the lounge area and walked over to stand close to Benedict. She looked up at him and whispered in a conspiratorially tone.

“Alright then. I’m going to give you another chance to prove yourself worthy. You must promise me on all that is holy that you will not utter a word about what I’m going to tell you or you will spoil the surprise.”

Benedict’s face lit up and he clapped his hands together. “Oh! Jolly good! A surprise! I love surprises! Do tell!”

“Promise me you will keep this to yourself and not tell another soul.”

Benedict rolled his eyes and crossed his heart. “I promise! Now, what gives, Mother?”

“I’m planning a surprise birthday party for your father’s seventieth in October.”

“That’s a brilliant idea! How long have you been planning it?”

Wanda glanced at the kitchen clock above the sink.

_Oh, five minutes give or take thirty seconds. I just realized that I’m going to actually have to go through with this not-so-brilliant scheme of mine. I originally was going to have a quiet family dinner with just the immediate family at a nice restaurant and treat Tim to a romantic weekend in Paris; but now it looks like we’ll be having a party that he won’t want.  
_

“Not long. It started to take shape only recently…”

_It’s so recent, that it’s taking shape as we speak._

“…while you were away on holiday.”

Benedict frowned. “Who else is in on this party?”

“Just me and Judi for now.”

_Jesus Christ! I must make it my business to call Judi once he leaves and fill her in on this impromptu surprise party. I know she really will enjoy helping me plan it, which is a good thing._

“Why wouldn’t you ask Tracy and Emmy to help you?”

_Yes, why wouldn’t I? And where in the hell is Timothy when I need him to barge in and cut this off?_

“Well, that’s an easy one. Tracy’s been very busy between her frame restoration business and things at home. Derek’s been doing a lot of traveling, so I haven’t gotten around to telling her yet. I’ve been waiting for things to settle down. Emmy’s been immersed in her studies and that boy she’s been dating. Really, Ben, this is just in the early planning stages.”

_So early that you and I are the only two who know about it._

"Hmmm...dad's birthday is October fourth.  Aren't you cutting this rather close for planning purposes?"

_Yes, I am.  I'm cutting it closer than you think. I've just started the planning now._

"Not all that close.  Judi and I have been looking around at various venues, and not all of them require that much advance notice."

“I still don’t understand why you would ask Judi and not my godmother?”

_Yes, why would I? Diana would be the natural choice being she and Geoffrey are our closest friends. Let’s see, why would I ask Judi to help me when Diana is my ‘go to’ person for such things? OH! I just remembered! Perfect!_

“Because Judi has something Diana and Geoffrey don’t. She has a membership to the Ivy Club, which is where I fancy holding the party. They have beautiful private dining rooms.”

_Very beautiful and pricy private rooms, I’m sure even with the members discount. It would be the perfect place to hold a party; but I’ll just tell him I changed the venue next week. I’ll see about booking a private room elsewhere tomorrow. Maybe the Stag in Hampstead has more reasonable rates. I know they have a nice private room upstairs that Adam and Alice had their son’s christening lunch in.  
_

Benedict looked puzzled. “Why would you want to have a party at the Ivy Club when Dad already belongs to the Garrick Club? They have very handsome private dining rooms, and the food and service are first-rate as well.”

_Oh, Wanda, you dolt! Why didn’t I think of that in the first place? Oh. Wait! I can easily skirt around his question.  
_

“All true, Love. However, you’re forgetting one little thing. The Garrick Club is a men-only club. Your father is the member. I can only accompany him as his guest. This means he would have to book his own party, which defeats the purpose of it being a surprise party.”

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck. “I see.”

“Besides I’ve had my heart set on using the Ivy Club,” added Wanda.

_For the entire fifteen minutes I’ve been planning this sure-to-be fiasco. And how long does it take my husband to cut off a bunch of herbs anyway?_

“There’s no need to use Judi’s membership, Mum; as I just got one!” announced Benedict proudly.

Wanda did a double take.

_My Benedict just forked over one thousand pounds for an Ivy Club membership? That is so unlike him! Thrifty should have been one of his middle names and here he is telling me that he splashed all that money around to purchase a membership to one of London’s most prestigious private clubs. You just don’t call them up and request one. You have to be invited to join. I wonder who secured an invitation for him. Surely it wasn’t Judi, or she would have said something about it. Perhaps Dennis or Mark are members? They are the only two out of his lot of mates who might have that kind of money to spend on a private club membership. Oh, maybe Tertius Bune. His family has plenty of money.  
_

“How did _you_ manage to garner an invitation to the Ivy Club?” asked Wanda innocently.

“My mate, Rob Rinder’s a member; and he recommended me. I was so over the moon when I got the acceptance email!”

_Oh, I forgot about him. Looks like the party will be at the Ivy Club like it or not. We can always go to Paris I suppose._

“You know, Mum. The Ivy Club isn’t going to be cheap.”

_You’re telling me.  
_

“I’m thinking of a simple set menu of three courses.”

“For how many guests?”

_He would ask that, wouldn’t he? Hmmmm…small group, equals small bill and a happy Wanda. Maybe I could still manage to salvage the weekend in Paris to pacify Tim._

“I’m thinking of just having the immediate family, so that’s eight of us – including Donna, of course.”

Benedict rested his index finger on his upper lip. “You have to invite Dad’s cousins, and what about Aunt Amber and her boyfriend? She's Dad's sister and are very close. Their kids should also be invited, don’t you think?”

_No. I’m not thinking or I never would have started to dig this pit that just keeps getting deeper and deeper. I forgot about the Cumberbatch cousins. There’s another dozen. I suppose Ben is right about Tim's sister and her family. That’s another half dozen.  
_

“You can’t have a birthday party without Dad’s friends, Mum! Diana and Geoffrey must be there, as well as…”

_Shit. There’s another twenty or thirty.  
_

“That’s at least fifty people. Maybe they’ll let me bring my own cake,” said Wanda, pushing her sleeves up over her elbows. “We could have a champagne toast, and I’ll serve wine rather than have an open bar so I can economize on the bar bill.”

Benedict frowned and shook his head. “Mum, first of all, not everyone drinks wine. Also, wine and champagne can be expensive in their own right. I do like the idea of a champagne toast; but I also think you need to have an open bar in addition to serving wine with the main.”

_What is that saying of Tim’s? There’s always trouble when they start to think. Benedict is thinking me right into debt and out of a Parisian holiday!_

“Either way it’s going to be very pricey, but as you said it’s a special birthday and it deserves to be celebrated properly.”

_The properly-celebrated party that wasn’t supposed to be is going to cost me a fortune regardless of where I have it or what I serve! How did I let this happen?_

Benedict snapped his fingers as an idea came to him.

“Why not ask Donna and her sister to cater it? I’m sure they would welcome the opportunity and give you a special discount. After all, Dad is going to be her father-in-law one day. This way you only need to rent a room - perhaps the church hall would do.”

“Donna is your girlfriend and needs to be by your side, enjoying the evening with us, not running around serving food and cleaning up. I won’t hear of it!” said Wanda with finality. “Besides, the thought of renting the church hall and bringing in our own food did occur to me; but the Vicar told me the hall is booked that day. We’ll find another place to hold the party. Maybe one of those all-you-can-eat buffets in Chinatown would be nice.”

Benedict shook his head. “You and Dad often eat at the Chinese buffets. There is nothing special about them, and besides how will that look to your guests?”

“It will look like I want them to have variety,” retorted Wanda.

“Oh, Mum. Don’t be cheeky. It looks like you’re being…well you know…” Benedict let his voice trail off.

“No, I don’t know. Spit it out, Benedict.”

“It makes you look cheap.”

“I’m not cheap,” insisted Wanda vehemently.

“And I’m not nosy,” chortled Benedict.

“I’m thrifty.”

“And I’m curious.”

“Touche,” Mother and son said at the same time.

The two pairs of ice blue eyes locked momentarily.

_Hmmm…I’m thinking Mum doesn’t have the funds to make this party. When she turned seventy, Tracy and I chipped in to give her that extraordinary party at Caprice. I’m going to offer to go half with her and call Tracy tomorrow to see if she’s interested in going half with me. I’m sure she’ll be. She always says that Dad is like a second father to her._

“As you said, Mum, seventy _is_ an important birthday…”

_I said a lot of stupid things today. I need to get myself a mouth filter._

“…and we need to do it up right. You know the more I think about it, I really like your original idea of having the party at the Ivy Club. They’ll do a lovely job.”

“I’m sure they will, Ben; but money _is_ going to be an issue with that many people,” sighed Wanda.

“How about if I chip in and go half with you? Perhaps I persuade Tracy to also chip in. Then it won’t be as much.”

_That could work. Tracy adores Tim, and Derek does as well. I’ll also have to fill in Tracy tomorrow in addition to Donna as to the motive to my madness. The more, the merrier in this stew of mine! I can’t believe this is happening._

“I’ll ring the Ivy Club tomorrow and make the booking for you for fifty guests. What day of the week does Dad’s birthday fall on this year?”

“October fourth is on a Sunday.”

“That will be perfect then. This is going to be a stonker of a party!”

_How on earth did we go from eight to fifty? Because Barrister Ben kept finding people to invite is how, bless him._

Wanda smiled thinly. “Thank you, Ben. I appreciate it.”

“Oh, it’s my pleasure, Mum. I’m so over the moon to be in on this! Dad will be so surprised; I bet he’ll be rendered speechless.”

_He sure will be surprised, but I bet he won’t be speechless. The man hates having a big fuss made over his birthday._

“He will be surprised as long as no one lets it slip; and yes, I’m looking at you.”

Timothy sauntered into the kitchen with a fistful of herbs from the roof top garden.

“Where have you been? You could have come and gone to the green grocer on Kensington High Street three times by now,” huffed Wanda.

Timothy blushed. “I got caught up in watching a helicopter take off and land at Kensington Palace. Hope you two had a nice catch up without me.”

_Hells bells!  Like father, like son when it comes to the royals and their helicopters! We didn’t have a catch up. I wound up planning a surprise birthday party for you that you are not going to like because Barrister Ben overheard me talking about him._

“We had a lovely catch up,” declared Benedict, winking at Wanda.

They were interrupted by the sound of the doorbell.

“Are you expecting company?” asked Benedict.

“No,” replied Wanda and Timothy together.

“I’ll go see who it is,” said Timothy leaving the room. “I bet Sam wants to use the drive for company.”

Benedict turned and began to get out dishes and cutlery for their dinner while Wanda stood at the sink, rinsing and patting the herbs dry. Suddenly, she felt Benedict wrap his arms around her waist.

"Don't worry, Mum. I won't tell Dad about your secret email boyfriends," he whispered playfully into her ear. "I know you're true blue to him. It's okay with me if you want to play around on the Internet. Just be careful." Then he kissed her on top of the head. "Your secrets are safe with me, as I trust mine are with you. I’ll go lay the dining room table so we’ll get the breeze off the balcony. The oven’s made it too hot in here to eat - even for me!"

Wanda Ventham watched as her son left the kitchen with a spring in his step and feeling very smug indeed.

 

 

After a delicious dinner of Wanda’s roasted chicken with tarragon cream sauce, roasted root vegetables and steamed broccoli, Benedict had decided to bring up the impending arrival of Neil and Antonia Saint James. He knew the news would not be received with enthusiasm, and he was not disappointed. To Benedict’s relief his parents had already figured out who Donna’s parents were, which made it a bit easier for him. He had patiently listened to each of them vent their anger while he cleaned up the kitchen.

The initial discussion had ended with Wanda flouncing off to the master bedroom for a lie down and Timothy stalking onto the balcony to get some air. Benedict had taken a seat on the couch in the lounge in order to wait things out before proceeding with bringing up the plans for the weekend. He retrieved his mobile from his pocket and sent Donna a text message, which she answered immediately.

_She must have been waiting for me to fill her in on what’s happening here._

**Hi! We just finished dinner and are taking a little break. B  
**

**Too much food? ;-) D**

**Too much shouting. B  
**

**I guess they weren’t going to take the news well given their history with my dad. D  
**

**I’d say they took it as well as can be expected given the circumstances. B  
**

**What does that mean exactly? D**

**It means they’re both very stropy right now and having a cooling off period.   B  
**

**That doesn’t sound good. Not that I was expecting to hear anything different. Where are they now? D  
**

**Mum’s retreated to her room and Dad’s outside on the balcony getting some air. I’m sat here in the lounge waiting for them to compose themselves before continuing. B  
**

**Continuing? D  
**

**One can only make so much progress when there are two people who need to vent their frustrations as badly as they did. They absolutely adore you, but the idea of having to socialize with your parents sent them over the edge. B  
**

**I’m hoping that they’ll let bygones be bygones for our sakes. D  
**

**I want some of whatever it is you’re smoking! B  
**

**They’re going to kill each other, aren’t they? D  
**

**I have no doubt. My stomach feels like it’s on fire. B  
**

**I hate that you’re so upset. Can you take something for it? D  
**

**I’ve got meds I can take once I get home. I hope that ulcer isn’t back. People die from bleeding ulcers. B  
**

**I doubt you have a bleeding ulcer. It’s probably just a flare up. D  
**

**I feel like a swallowed a lit flare. B  
**

**How bad was it? D  
**

**Well, imagine swallowing a mouthful of fire. B  
**

**No. I meant when you told them about my dad and that they were coming to London for a visit. D  
**

**I had to shut the windows when they began shouting. B  
**

**I was expecting to hear that. D  
**

**They both almost lost their voices. B  
**

**I was expecting to hear that, too. D  
**

**Dad got so angry at one point that he broke a dish. B  
**

**I wasn’t expecting to hear that. D  
**

**Dad can have quite the temper when sufficiently provoked. B  
**

**Almost losing their voices was a blessing in disguise. B  
**

**Benedict! What an awful thing to type. D  
**

**I only meant in that it gives me a chance to get a word in edgewise. B  
**

**Oh. I see what you mean. D  
**

**I’m sorry you have to go through this alone. I should have been there. D  
**

**No fucking way should you have been here! I just have to tell them about Sunday and get that sorted out. Then I can leave. B  
**

**You haven’t told them about Sunday yet??? What have you been talking about all this time? D  
**

**I thought we should at least eat our meal in relative peace before any discussion of your father ensued. We spent the time after dinner up until now going down memory lane. Mum even dragged out the old scrap books of my reviews in order to cite certain comments your dad made. B  
**

**It was bloody awful. B**

 

“Who are you texting?” Timothy croaked as he entered the lounge.

“Donna.”

“Give her my love and tell her your mother and I look forward to meeting her parents.”

“Liar,” scoffed Wanda from the hallway, voice still hoarse. “You don’t want to meet those right bastards any more than I do!”

“I think an after dinner drink is in order,” announced Timothy, heading into the kitchen.

“Make mine a double,” called out Wanda after him.

 

**I have to go, Sweetheart. Round two is about to begin. B  
**

**Just keep calm and don’t yell back. D  
**

**Dad sends love and says he looks forward to meeting your parents. B  
**

**Tim lies like a rug. D  
**

**That’s what Mum just said. B  
**

**Why don’t you sleep over here afterwards? We can talk. I’ve also got Tums. D**

**I'm warning you that I’ll want comfort sex after this. B  
**

**It would be my pleasure to comfort you. I love you. D  
**

**Expect me around eleven at this rate. Cheers. Bxx**

 

Benedict put his mobile on the end table and fixed his mother with a look.

“You realize there’s no getting out of meeting her parents face-to-face. Especially given my intentions towards Donna, which you jolly well know are serious. You both need to accept the fact that they are going to be a part of my life one day; therefore, by default part of yours.”

“Please stop reminding me!” moaned Wanda.

“Truth be told, the mother’s personality is far preferable to the father’s,” began Benedict. “If I had to choose…”

“Bollocks, Benedict! Not from what you told us about those horrid Skype calls you have to endure. She sounds ever bit as bitchy as he is – just in a different way.”

Benedict crossed his legs and rubbed the back of his neck. “You’re right of course. They are both wankers in their own right.”

Wanda rolled her eyes and plopped down on the opposite end of the couch from Benedict.

“As your father explained to you in the kitchen, we suspected…hell we knew deep down inside it was Neil Saint James for quite a while. It didn’t take us long to put the puzzle together once we knew Donna’s last name and her father’s occupation.”

“Why didn’t either of you bring it up then?”

“Because as long as it wasn’t out in the open, then we could pretend it wasn’t true. I know that doesn’t make sense. We both adore Donna, and we see how happy you are together…” Wanda let her voice trail off.

“Then why make such a fuss before if we were all on the same page?”

“Because it was time for us to have a proper venting of our frustrations and anger with the situation! It pains us terribly that you’ll be stuck with them as in-laws one day.”

Timothy returned holding a small stainless steel tray with four cordial glasses containing a thick, peach-coloured liquid. He set it down on the coffee table.

“I take it the row has resumed without me yes?”

“We’re not having a row,” snapped Wanda. “We’re sorting things out.”

“When exactly is this visit?” inquired Timothy, sitting in his favourite arm chair.

“Donna’s parents will be arriving very early Friday morning from New York. They will be staying with her sister for the duration of their visit.”

“Which is for how long?” inquired Wanda.

“We certainly don’t want to press them if they are only going to be here for the weekend,” chimed in Timothy. “We can meet them the next time they come over.”

“They will be staying the week. So, there will be ample time to arrange a meeting,” replied Benedict.

“Oh, I don’t know,” began Wanda hesitantly. “I’ve got an audition and your father has a job next week. We’re both rather busy.”

Benedict sat back and re-crossed his long legs. “Not an issue. I’ve got a wedding in Wales on Friday. Then I’ll be meeting them Saturday night for dinner. Donna and I were thinking of us all meeting for brunch on Sunday.”

“I think we have a date with Diana and Geoffrey for Sunday brunch, don’t we Tim?” said Wanda, as she got to her feet. “I need to check the calendar, but I…”

“Then you’ll just have to cancel it!” snapped Benedict, eyes blazing with anger. “Tell them you’re having brunch with my future in laws. They’ll understand.”

“Have you proposed to Donna then?” asked Timothy, excitedly.

“No, but it is inevitable. You need to meet her parents, and Sunday is the most convenient day for everyone. If all goes well, perhaps we can arrange a dinner later in the week.”

“What are the plans for Sunday then?” asked Wanda with resignation, as she sat back down on the couch.

“We plan to take you all to brunch at Caprice.”

“Why don’t I just have brunch here? I can order trays from…”

“Because that is a bad idea, Mother,” snarled Benedict. “Donna wanted to cook dinner Saturday night, and I put my foot down. This is going to be a volatile situation at best, and I think it best we have this meet and greet in a neutral public venue. Everyone will have to be on their best behaviour, therefore, less chance for a scene.”

“I won’t make a scene,” said Wanda petulantly. “Really, Benedict! To even entertain the notion that I would make a public scene is very insulting, and furthermore…”

 _Like you didn’t make a scene that day in Quince when you told off Samantha Alden-Thomas,_ thought Timothy.

 _Like the day you made a scene in Quince with your publisher,_ thought Benedict.

“Hush, Wanda,” commanded Timothy. “Ben’s right. Let the first meeting take place in a restaurant, and we’ll play it by ear. If we’re pleasantly surprised, which I highly doubt, we’ll invite them here for dinner near the end of the week. If they are as insufferable as Benedict paints them, one meal will be quite sufficient; and we will have fulfilled our obligation to Donna.”

“Donna and I were thinking more in terms of taking tea at the Savoy for a second get together.”

 _Fuck.  He wants us to endure them twice?_ thought Timothy.  _Once is quite enough for me.  I can wait until the wedding to see them again._

“Even better,” said Wanda. “I don’t fancy cooking for the likes of them.”

“Mum! Pleeeeaaaasssseeeee don’t start!”

“You’re whining, Benedict. I didn’t approve of it when you were a small, and it’s even more unbecoming when you’re thirty-three,” snapped Wanda.

“Okay then. I’ll stop whining, if you’ll stop taking cheap shots at the Saint James’s without even having met them. We’ll plan on brunch at Caprice on Sunday and tea at the Savoy on Thursday,” said Benedict with finality. “Donna will make the bookings tomorrow. Are we all sorted then?”

“I’ll call Diana and rebook our brunch date tomorrow,” mumbled Wanda in a disgusted voice.

“I suppose,” muttered Timothy. “By the way, what’s this fuckery I read about you’re entering the political arena?” he asked with a poker face.

_Oh fuck! That damn article is going to haunt me._

“Something about starting your own political party,” added Wanda. “The Double-Breasted Suit Party.”

_Double fuck! Karon’s going to be up my arse about that again. I only said that he looked like he had breasts in that jacket. No one wears plaid suits anymore. I just said it reminded me of the tablecloth my mum used to bring along on picnics._

Benedict cleared his throat. “Ahem. It was nothing. Really. We were in between questions at an interview, and I was watching the telly to pass the time.  Then I just made a comment about the Prime Minister’s choice of clothing when he came on camera is all.”

“That was quite a snarky comment,” observed Timothy.

“That wasn’t called for,” chimed in Wanda.  "Its only fodder for the tabloids."

“Believe me, I know! I’ve been told several times already today!”

_And now Dad is going to start in with the Ten Commandments of Being Interviewed. Again. Christ._

“Thou shall not speak to journalists in between questions,” declared Timothy. “It’s much safer that way. Just sit back and sip some water.”

“How about thou shall not make snarky comments about the Prime Minister’s clothing no matter how ugly,” giggled Wanda.

Timothy fixed her with a look. “Now, I know where he gets it from. Keep encouraging him to make flip comments about public figures.”

“Well, it was an ugly suit, Tim! Ben, it was true and it was funny as fuck; but you should have turned on your mouth filter and kept it to yourself.”

Benedict rolled his eyes. “I’m entitled to voice my opinion, especially when it’s off-the-record,” he said defiantly.

“No, you’re not. Particularly, when you’re trying to project a certain image to the public,” corrected Timothy sternly.

“Well, it’s over and done with as far as I’m concerned. The article was on Page Ten – that’s how motherfucking important it was in the grand scope of today’s news,” said Benedict dismissively.

“Yes, Love; but all the entertainment gossip starts on Page Ten,” said Wanda gently.

Timothy and Wanda exchanged looks as Benedict leaned over, helped himself to one of the glasses off the tray and handed it to Wanda.

“Who’s the extra for? Are we expecting a moderator?” He teased.

“Your mother wanted a double, ergo two for her,” snickered Timothy.

Benedict took a glass and sniffed at it. “Butterscotch Schnapps yes?”

“Not quite. Butterscotch flavoured Gastrocote.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Happy 39th Birthday to Benedict!
> 
> 2\. The story about Benedict and the flood at Brambletye was taken from the Dawn French/Jennifer Saunders show where both he and Wanda were interviewed. It is hilarious, and you can listen to it here: http://londonphile.tumblr.com/post/17183689854/dawn-french-and-jennifer-saunders-and-benedict
> 
> 3\. The Judi I refer to is actress Dame Judi Dench.


	95. Chapter 95

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter marks the 2-Year Anniversary of this story. A big, heart-felt thanks for all my lovely and loyal readers! xoxo
> 
> Note: Donna meets Benedict’s long-suffering publicist, Karon Maskill and makes a new friend in the process. The Neil and Toni Show arrive in London with a surprise. Donna shares her wedding fantasies with Carly.
> 
> Note: I’ll be using ************* to indicate things happening at the same time.

 

Donna Saint James sat on a narrow white leather couch in the reception area of KMPR, waiting for Karon Maskill to see her. Donna glanced at the gold rimmed clock that hung above the receptionist’s desk. It was ten minutes to nine.

_I wonder if she’s going to see me on time. I would think a PR person would have to be. God, it’s hot in here. I can barely feel the air conditioning. My legs are starting to stick to this couch.  
_

Donna’s text chime alerted her to a message. It was from Carly:

 

**The Neil and Toni Show have arrived safe and sound. We are having breakfast. C  
**

**What are you having? D  
**

**Aggravation. I can’t believe I already had to excuse myself and hide in the john for a self-imposed time out. C  
**

**Jeez Louise. They must have just gotten there. D  
**

**Thirty miserable minutes ago. Mom’s already taken over the scrambling of the eggs as if I weren’t capable. Steven has deserted me in favor of assisting on a knee replacement. Damn him! The only consolation is that they came bearing bagels from Murray’s. There’s a dozen for each of us! C  
**

**I promise I’ll be there as soon as I finish with Ben’s publicist. D  
**

**Take your time, they’ve informed me that as soon as they unpack, they are heading out to meet up with Uncle Rodney and Aunt Beatrice for lunch. Yea! C  
**

**Double yea! Now I can safely return to my apartment afterwards before their return. Lucky Benedict doesn’t have to deal with them until tomorrow night. D  
**

**Speaking of Ben, I’ve already been grilled about him and managed to dodge most of the trickier questions. C  
**

**I’m so sorry, Curly Carly. I promise to make it up to you. D  
**

**You’re going to be a very busy girl making things up to me and Ben after this visit. C  
**

**BTW they want to meet Andrew! C  
**

**Why don’t you invite him down for coffee? They will have to be more restrained with him around. I’m also sure he’d love to meet them in person after that last Skype call. HA HA HA! D  
**

**Already did. He’s not home. C  
**

**BTW the sleeping arrangements have changed. C  
**

**What do you mean? Did they finally come to their senses and get a hotel??? D  
**

**No such luck; however, they did bring along a guest. They brought along Grandpa Colin as a surprise. He’s going to visit some of his cousins and friends whom he hasn’t seen in a long time. C  
**

**OMG! That’s wonderful news! Grandpa can stay with me. I’ll let him have my bedroom, and I can sleep on the couch. D  
**

**I’ve got an even better idea. C  
**

**?????   D  
**

**Mom and Dad stay upstairs in your apartment, so they can have some privacy. Grandpa Colin stays in my extra bedroom, and you stay with Benedict. It’s a win/win for all. What do you think? C  
**

**Oh, I think I like this arrangement too much, Curly Carly! D  
**

**I thought you might. Grandpa is no trouble at all, and it gets Mom and Dad out of both our hair and you into Ben’s hair, which he's going to love!   C  
**

**Don’t be such a wise ass, Carla. I never should have told you about Benedict’s sensitive hair follicles. D  
**

**I’m not going to tell anyone, silly! I told you about Steve’s sensitive armpits, didn’t I?   C  
**

**I have to check with Benedict to see if it’s okay with him if I sleep over. D  
**

**Since when do you have to ask him? I thought you two were practically joined at the hip now or am I getting it confused with another place you two are joined at... C  
**

**You’re on a roll today, Carla. I’m not sure I can reach Benedict. He’s probably on a train to Wales by now. D  
**

**What’s in Wales? Does he have a job there or has he gone into hiding until Mom and Dad leave? C  
**

**He’s going to some friends’ wedding in a mine shaft. D  
**

**You mean a mine like the Seven Dwarfs work in? C  
**

**Yep. D  
**

**Is it a Snow White-themed wedding? Just think of the potential! I’d have my table centerpieces made of apples to represent the poisoned apple. I wonder if they’ll give out small bags of gems as favors. C  
**

**These are not Disney people. They are artists. It’s also not a diamond mine. This shaft is in a coal mine. D  
**

**They can count me out! LOL! Sounds like it would be a dirty and damp venue. Is the dress code overalls and work boots?   C  
**

**Well, it is coal. I can’t see how the bride is going to keep clean in a white gown. I would have worn black. LOL D  
**

**You would never get married in a coal mine in the first place. C  
**

**True. I picture Benedict and me getting married in the Grand Floridian’s Wedding Pavilion, followed by a reception in the California Grill and an Epcot fireworks dessert party to cap off the day. D  
**

**Sounds suspiciously similar to my wedding! C  
**

**Disney did such a beautiful job on yours. Everyone had such a good time. D  
**

**I loved leaving the hotel with Daddy in Cinderella’s coach with the footmen. Remember how all the tourists were taking photos of us! LOL C  
**

_OH my gosh! Cinderella’s coach! I can see myself and Daddy in that coach riding to the Wedding Pavilion **!**_ **  
**

**I dream of spending our wedding night in a suite at the Animal Kingdom Lodge. D  
**

**Steve and I enjoyed spending our wedding night at the Polynesian if you recall. It’s so romantic there! The hammocks on the beach. Every night we could see the Electrical Water Pageant and Magic Kingdom fireworks from our balcony. I think that’s why Steve can’t bring himself to try a different resort whenever we go back. C  
**

_Oh, it is so beautiful there. However, I can’t see Benedict being entertained at the Bora Bora Longhouse all day long. He likes different experiences._ **  
**

**I can just see Benedict’s face waking up to find giraffes and zebras outside our balcony. He would never want to leave the room. He’d want to stay and watch the animals on the savannah all day. D  
**

**I picture Ben not wanting to leave the room for other reasons.   C  
**

**Wise ass. D  
**

_Actually, I could envision that, too._ **  
**

**I take it you would consider honeymooning at Disney, too? C  
**

_Would I consider honeymooning at Disney? Does she forget who she’s text messaging with?_ **  
**

**Of course! I can’t imagine going anywhere else! D  
**

**Then I’ll have to treat you and Benedict to a set of bride and groom mouse ears to wear around the parks. LOL!   C  
**

**Oh my gosh! Yes! I forgot about those! D**

_Benedict will look so cute in those!_ **  
**

**Steve and I got all kinds of neat stuff – free drinks, desserts, fast passes! They love honeymooners at Disney World. C  
**

_Mom discovered those perks when she and Daddy wore a set for their twenty-fifth anniversary trip._

**What do you think about ‘A Whole New World’ for our first dance? D  
**

**I think you should ask Benedict, not me. C  
**

**It seems like the perfect wedding song! Now, it’ll be stuck in my head for days! You know, we could have an Aladdin-themed reception! I saw photos of one online. They made the ballroom in the Contemporary Resort look just like Agrabah! I could just see Benedict wearing a turban. D  
**

**I sure as hell can’t. C  
**

**You have no imagination. D  
**

**And you have too much. C  
**

**I hate to burst your bubble, but have you seriously ever considered that Benedict may not share your enthusiasm for a Disney destination wedding and honeymoon? He may have other ideas about where he’d like to get married and spend his honeymoon. He’s not a Disneyphile like you are. C  
**

_No, Carly. I never considered that. How could he not want to have a magical Disney wedding? It’s got everything a person could want, plus rides!!!_ **  
**

**Donna? C  
**

**Donna, are you there? C  
**

**Yoo hoo! Earth-to-Donna! C  
**

**How could he not love the idea, Carly? Everyone loves Disney! D  
**

**Not everyone. To be honest, Donna, I could see him not loving the idea. I visualize him wanting a traditional church wedding and small, intimate reception, followed by a laid-back honeymoon somewhere in the tropics. Ben can be very opinionated and just as stubborn as you are. C  
**

**I disagree. This man has been pining away about getting married ever since he was twelve – according to him; and when his time comes, he’s going to want a big wedding with all the trimmings! D  
**

**Let’s hope you’re not going to be disappointed when the time comes. C  
**

**Good gravy! Now I’ve got a bad case of wedding fever! LOL! D  
**

**You really do aspire to be a Disney bride! C  
**

**I certainly do, Curly Carly! It’s my dream wedding! And I know Benedict will just love the idea. D  
**

**I hope your determination pays off; and if it does, Daddy will see to it that it will be a wedding to remember. He spared no expense with mine. C  
**

**I remember almost falling off my chair when I saw a copy of the bill! D  
**

**I was just thinking. You should tell Ben to be careful about breathing in coal dust. C  
**

**He’s got that covered. Literally. He’s bringing along a mask. D  
**

**That’s a good idea. If he’s gone until tomorrow, how do you intend to get into his apartment? C  
**

**We exchanged keys and alarm codes. It’s the second step towards living together. Let me go rattle the receptionist and see how much longer Ms. Maskill’s going to be. It’s nine o’clock now. D**

As Donna stuffed her phone into her handbag, she became aware of someone standing over her. She looked up to see a blonde-haired woman smiling down at her with a hand extended towards her.

“Donna Saint James? I’m Karon Maskill.”

 

**********************************************

 

Karon Maskill cradled the phone on her desk after confirming a rumour that had been floating around the tabloids about one of her clients. She checked the time on her Movado watch. It was three minutes to nine. Karon buzzed her PA on the office intercom.

_Let’s see if Ben’s girlfriend is on time or like him.  
_

**_“Yes, Boss.”_ **

“Joyce, is Donna Saint James here yet?”

**_“Since eight forty-five. She keeps comparing the time on our clock to her watch, so I’d venture to say she’s getting impatient,” Joyce chuckled in a low voice._ **

“Would you please bring in the tea tray then, and I’ll come and fetch her myself.”

_I like that she’s here early. If she starts accompanying Ben to events with any regularity, perhaps she’ll be a good influence on him_. _It would be such a treat to delegate his being ready on time to someone else!_

Karon shrugged into her jacket and walked down the short hallway that led to the reception area. She could see there was a young woman with long, chestnut brown hair sitting on the couch busy texting on her mobile.

_So this must be Donna Saint James. She’s certainly pretty enough._

Donna was so engrossed that she did not seem to hear or notice Karon approaching her. She took the mobile and put it in a huge Louis Vuitton handbag that sat beside her on the couch.

_Bloody hell! How can she not hear my heels clacking on the wooden flooring? Benedict would have looked up as soon as I opened the door to my office. This one has good concentration._

“Donna Saint James? I’m Karon Maskill,” said Karon cordially as she extended her manicured hand to Donna. “Benedict’s publicist,” she added.

 

*************************************************

 

Donna looked up to see a tall woman of average weight standing before her. The woman appeared to be in her mid-forties. She was dressed in a tailored black pants suit and royal blue silk blouse which had the top three buttons open so that one could see her ample cleavage. The woman’s long blonde hair was put up in a messy bun, and she wore black leather open toed high-heeled pumps. Her finger and toenails were painted bright fuchsia She was smiling graciously at Donna and had her hand extended in greeting.

_Benedict never said what she looked like. All he ever says is that she’s tough as nails. She seems to be striving for sexy, yet business-like. Such an interesting combination._

“It’s so nice to meet you, Ms. Maskill,” said Donna getting to her feet and taking Karon’s hand. “Benedict’s told me so much about you.”

_She’s American. Ben didn’t mention that. I wonder if she plans on remaining in London permanently. That can put a strain on a relationship if she decides to move back. How I hate long-distance romances!_

“All of it true, too,” Karon snickered. “Let’s go to my office so we can chat, and call me, Karon, please.”

_She knows that Benedict is always telling me how she treats him like a little kid. She doesn’t seem to care either! Hahaha! I guess she’s just doing her job._

“Everything’s set up, Boss; and don’t forget to share your scone with Tess, she’s getting stropy,” said Joyce as she passed them in the hallway. “She was whining at me when I set them out and didn’t share, so she’s sulking in the corner.”

“Well, we can’t have that, can we?” chuckled Karon as she led the way to her office.

_I wonder who Tess is? Is she another PA who sits in on these things? Maybe she’s a lawyer? What I do know is that Tess whines because she has to wait to eat and then pouts in the corner. That is too funny. No. It’s weird. No, it isn’t. Karl can be a diva when he wants to be, so I shouldn’t be so quick to pass judgement.  
_

Donna noted the professional photographs that lined the walls of Karon’s various clients. She recognized Helen Bonham Carter, Eddie Izzard, Sir Cliff Richards, Leo Sayer, Mark Lamarr, Dylan Moran, Samantha Morton and Graham Norton. There were others whom she did not recognize. Finally, she spotted a photo of Benedict that she hadn’t seen before.

“That’s his headshot,” explained Karon. “I keep telling him he needs to update it, but Ben is the Master Procrastinator, as I’m sure you know by now.”

_Truer words were never spoken. She’s got my honey’s number. To be fair, she’s known him a lot longer than I have.  
_

Donna followed Karon into her spacious office and took a seat in the black leather chair in front of her glass-topped desk. A tea tray had been set out holding scones, clotted cream and some kind of bright red jam. The drapes were open to reveal a view of the brick building across the street, allowing the natural light to flood the office. There were candid photos of Karon with her clients adorning the wall over the sofa behind her. Donna set her handbag on the floor and quickly covered her mouth in order to stifle a laugh.

Karon took her seat across the desk from Donna and regarded her with raised eyebrows as if to ask her what was so amusing.

“Benedict calls this the hot seat,” Donna giggled.

_Oh shit! I shouldn’t have said that. Look at her face.  
_

_How very appropriate for Ben to deem it that,_ thought Karon. _Hahaha!_

“And he bloody well should as I’m always roasting him in it for one thing or another,” sighed Karon. “May I offer you some tea?”

“Please. I didn’t mean any insult…”

Karon held up her hand. “No insult was taken, Donna. Ben has hired me to do a job, and part of it involves telling the client when they’ve handled a situation improperly. I’ve been in this business for a long while, and all my clients have been in the… hot seat… at one time or another. Unfortunately, as I assume you’ve come to realize, Ben spends quite a lot of his time in it.”

“He refers to your methods as tough love.”

Karon nodded thoughtfully as she decanted the hot tea into two dainty chintz-flowered teacups.   “Nicely put,” she mused, as a smiled tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Benedict must be feeling very loved up then,” she quipped.

_He did say she had a sassy side. Let me back pedal so she doesn’t get the wrong idea.  
_

“He really does admire you, Karon. Benedict was only saying how much he genuinely likes you as a person and enjoys working with you,” Donna said quickly. “He always says what an extraordinary job you do for him.”

_That sounds like something Ben would say, right down to the extraordinary. Extraordinary is one of his favourite words, bless him. Glad to hear he approves of what I’ve been doing for him. Now, if the dolt would only heed my advice! I must keep reminding myself that Rome wasn’t built in a day and apparently neither will Benedict Cumberbatches public persona._

“And I like working with Ben as well. He’s got an incredibly wicked, wicked sense of humour,” Karon laughed. “We have a lovely time when we go to events. How do you like your tea, Donna? This is black tea with lemon peel and ginger.”

_I can smell the lemon and ginger from here, and it smells amazing._

“A splash of milk and two demerara sugars, please.”

_She takes it exactly like he does. That’s scary. She does have a lovely smile and her teeth are very white and straight, the result of teeth whitening and a good orthodontist when she was a small no doubt. Hmmm…I need to suggest teeth whitening to Ben the next time he’s in here. I notice that all the fags and black coffee he consumes have yellowed his teeth at bit. I can’t have a client with stained teeth._

Donna watched as Karon wrote something on a pad that was in front of her.

_Holy cow! That reminds me of my parents! I wonder what she wrote._

“Benedict told me the other day he’d be in deep shit if it weren’t for your intervention at times…especially after that comment he inadvertently made about the Prime Minister’s suit, which really _was_ ugly as sin.”

“Unfortunately, I didn’t get a chance to intervene as I was out of the room taking an emergency call when it happened. Ben does keep me on my toes.”

Karon studied Donna closely as she passed the tea cup and saucer across the desk to her.

_Donna has nice features, and she applies her makeup properly in order to accentuate them. I see that she keeps her hair in good condition. Her outfit and shoes are expensive, not to mention her jewelry. Those earrings and bracelet are definitely gold, and that must be a real ruby in the ring. That Louis Vuitton handbag is worth over two thousand pounds alone. Ms. Saint James looks like she’s going to be high maintenance. I hope I’m wrong._

_Karon’s looking me over as if she were appraising me. I guess she’s trying to gauge if I’m worthy of Benedict._

Donna sipped the tea. “Mmm…this is very good. Where do you get it?”

“Fortnum and Mason.”

Donna nodded as Karon surveyed a small platter of baked goods. It looked like there were two kinds of scones.

_I wish she’d offer me one of those. I’m starving because I didn’t have enough time for breakfast, which is my fault for sleeping a little later. I’m still in vacation mode. Those look like plain and raisin scones. That’s all I ever seem to see here._

“May I offer you a scone, Donna? We get them from the baker down the road.”

“Yes, please,” Donna replied eagerly, licking her lips.

“I’ve got plain and fruit.”

_It’s always plain and fruit and the fruit is always raisins or currants. I need to tell Carly that we should offer a scone of the day when we start catering. I bet peach or cherry scones would go over well in the summer._

“Fruit please.” _  
_

“Cream and jam? You’re in luck because it smells like we’ve got strawberry today. Fortnum’s strawberry jam is brilliant.”

_I bet she’s got a corporate account with Fortnum and sends her clients gifts from there. It’s always strawberry or raspberry jam. Every now and then I’ll see lemon curd offered or orange marmalade. That’s another thing to add to my catering list: Different kinds of jams._

“That’s fine,” replied Donna as she leaned over in order to set her cup down on the desk.

_I wonder whatever happened to Tess? I guess she’s not over her fit yet. How weird is that? I can’t wait to ask Benedict who she is._

Karon cut the scone and placed a dollop of each condiment on a small plate along with a spreader. Then she handed the small plate to Donna along with a cloth serviette.

Suddenly, Donna’s cellphone began to ring.

“Go ahead and take your call,” said Karon, as she prepared a scone and cup of tea for herself. “It’s probably Ben.”

Donna looked at the caller ID. It was Benedict.

“It’s Benedict,” confirmed Donna.

“Checking up on us undoubtedly,” smirked Karon as she took a bite of her scone.

Meanwhile, a miniature brown and white bulldog raised its head from the basket it had been sleeping in across the room.

 

“Hello?”

**_“Hi. I’m on the train and thought I’d see if you’ve met Karon yet.”_  
**

“We’re having tea and scones as we speak.”

**_“Of course you are,”_ ** **laughed Benedict.**

“No. We really are.”

**_“She never has scones when I come around. Always ginger nuts.”_ **

“Why don’t you call me later?”

**_“Trying to get rid of me are you?”_ **

“Yes.”

There was silence.

**_“Don’t let Karon bully you into agreeing to do anything you don’t want to do, Donna.”_  
**

“Okay.”

**_“She does that to me all the time. She’s got a right talent for being pushy.”_ **

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

**_“Did your parents arrive safely then?”_ **

“Yes. They’re having breakfast with Carly as we speak. My Grandpa Colin also came over with them!”

**_“That’s Neil’s father yes?”_ ** _  
_

“Yep. Well, I’m going to go now, so Karon and I can have our meeting.”

**_“Ring me up when you get back to your flat and let me know what she said. I’ll sign onto Skype as soon as I check into my room, so we can chat.”_ **

“Okay.”

**_“Love you, Sweetheart.”_ **

“Love you, too, Ben Honey. Enjoy your trip.”

 

Donna turned off her phone and dropped it into her handbag, which fell onto its side.

“I’m sorry about that. He’s on a train to Wales and must be bored.”

Karon rolled her eyes as she set down her teacup. She then regarded Donna with a twinkle in her eyes.

“Let’s see. He complained that I only offer him ginger nuts when he’s here even though he proclaims them to be his favourite kind of biscuit.”

Donna nodded affirmatively as she sipped her tea.

“And he also said you shouldn’t allow me to persuade you to do something you don’t wish to, so allow me to set your mind at ease on that point. You don’t have to participate in anything you’re not comfortable doing.”

“Thank you. I appreciate your saying that,” said Donna as she picked up the plate with the scone.

“Being I’m a gambling woman, I’m willing to bet he’s going to ring you later to find out what transpired here.”

Donna laughed and nodded. “You know Benedict well.”

“I should. I’ve been working with him since 2002. I’ve been his publicist since he graduated from LAMDA. His agent, John Grant, referred him to the firm I was with. My superior, in turn, gave Ben to me in order to cultivate and groom his brand.”

“Brand? I’m afraid I’m not familiar with the PR lingo.”

“His public image. Its paramount for an actor to project a positive one at all times. My job is to make sure Ben does this as well as making sure his name and face are out there for people to recognize.”

“Benedict seems like he’s not the easiest person to do PR for,” ventured Donna as she carefully spread every bit of the cream and jam on her scone and prepared to take a bite. “From what I’ve picked up on, he strikes me as having the potential to be a loose cannon.”

“Ben doesn’t have the potential to be a loose cannon, he _is_ one,” Karon chortled. “I never know what’s going to come out of his mouth regardless of the amount of preparation we do prior to an interview. He has proven to be quite the challenge: A journalist’s dream and a publicist’s nightmare.”

“Then why represent him?” Donna challenged, scone halfway to her mouth.

“Number one: because I fancy nothing more than a challenge; and Ben’s proven to be an excellent one so far. Number two and most important: because I’ve seen what he can do; and I believe Ben has a tremendous amount of talent. His agent and I are both confident that his career is going to flourish and be a very profitable one for all of us.

Donna took a large bite of the scone, which crumbled in her hand. She watched as a blob of strawberry jam landed on her crisp, white blouse and a large chunk of the scone fell onto the expensive-looking Persian rug that covered the floor, jam and cream side down.

_Shit! Why do these things always happen to me? That jam is sure to stain her rug! How am I going to tell Benedict that I ruined his publicist’s carpet after only ten minutes?_

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Karon! I’ll pay to have the rug cleaned!”

“Not to worry. Tess will be over to hoover it up in no time. There won’t be a trace left once she’s done, bless her. And here she comes now…”

“OH MY GOD!” Donna screamed as she leapt out of her chair, knocking it over.

A small brown and white blur jumped out from a dog bed that she hadn’t seen against the far wall and made for the piece of fallen scone. Donna backed away from the desk, plate and napkin still in hand.

_It’s a dog! I just screamed like a frigging idiot because of a little dog. I need coaching, not Benedict. I need a damn muzzle. Holy cow! Look at Karon’s face. She thinks I’m nuts, and she’s not wrong._

“Tess! Where are your manners?” Karon sternly addressed what appeared to be a miniature brown and white bulldog that was lapping up the scone with great enthusiasm.

_Thank God no one outside the office heard me. How mortifying would that be?_

The intercom buzzed.

“Yes, Joyce?’ **  
**

**_“Is everything okay, Boss? We heard a scream. Do you need me?”_  
**

_Shit. They heard me._

“No. It’s all fine. Tess saw an opportunity to nick a piece of scone that Donna dropped and frightened her,” Karon replied merrily. “Tess never misses teatime, bless her.” _  
_

_When I leave, they’re going to be talking about Benedict Cumberbatches’ wacky girlfriend, who was frightened by a little dog, overturned a chair and dropped jam onto an expensive Persian rug. Karon must be thinking: ‘Wow, this woman is not an asset to my client.’_

“Tess is harmless, Donna. I promise. She’s afraid of her own shadow,” said Karon. “Tess, sit!” She commanded sternly.

_Why is there a dog in her office to begin with? And why didn’t Benedict think to tell me there might be a dog here? Maybe Karon just brought it in for the day. Tess is awfully cute. I like how she’s watching me to see if I drop some more._

Tess looked up through the glass desktop at her mistress and plopped her hindquarters down onto Donna’s handbag. Her tongue lolled out of her mouth and then she looked up at Donna with curiosity, drool dripping onto the handbag.

_You’re so damn dumb, Donna, screaming like that. It’s just a little dog. Look how cute she is. OH…she’s sitting on my bag... and drooling on it...that’s my last one until I get home in November._

_Shit! Tess is sitting and drooling on her designer bag, and Donna’s trying to look like she’s not going to have a coronary. I don’t fancy shelling out over two thousand quid to replace it._

“Tess! Get up!” said Karon harshly, making a gesture with her hand.

Tess reluctantly got up and moved away from the handbag. She looked from Karon to Donna as if she were trying to make up her mind about where to sit especially if there were more treats to be had.

“Please sit down, Donna. I’m terribly sorry about your handbag. I hope it’s not ruined.”

Donna took a deep breath, righted her chair and sat back down. Tess’ eyes followed her as she put the plate on the desk, picked up the bag and wiped it clean with the napkin.

_Thank God for faux leather – it always wipes clean._

_I suppose I should make her an offer. I wonder if I can write it off as a business expense. I don't see why not?_

“I’ll be happy to replace it,” continued Karon. “I realize how expensive that bag must have been.”

“Oh, it’s fine,” laughed Donna. “This isn’t a real Louis Vuitton. It’s a knockoff I bought off the street back home. The guy swore it’s a second, but I know their game. Pretty convincing though, isn’t it? I could never afford the real thing. I’m the Queen of Discount Designer Shopping.”

_That’s good news for me and even better for Ben. She enjoys a good bargain. A woman after my own heart. Well done her._

Donna studied Tess, who had inched closer to her feet and sniffed at her shoes.

“So, this is Tess. She’s just a puppy?”

“Not any longer. Tess is a miniature bulldog with a fondness for people and even greater one for people food. She fancies the scones from this particular bakery and can smell them a kilometer away,” laughed Karon.

“Is it okay if I pet her?”

“Of course! Tess also fancies having her belly rubbed.”

Donna leaned forward and gently patted Tess on the head. “Hello, Tess! You’re such a cutie!!”

Tess licked Donna’s hand in response and wagged her stubby tail.

_How I miss Pierre! I wish I could have brought him with me to London!_

“Benedict didn’t tell me you had a dog,” commented Donna as she leaned forward and allowed Tess to lick her face.

“How about that? He left out that little detail,” snickered Karon. “Tess is our office mascot. She and Ben are great friends.”

Tess rolled over to allow Donna access to her belly. “She makes me miss my own dog so much!”

_She’s a dog lover! Brilliant!_

“What breed do you have, Donna?”

“A French poodle, named Pierre. I couldn’t bring him to London, so he’s living with my parents. Does Tess come to work with you every day?”

Karon nodded as she took a sip of her tea. “She’s here most days, unless it’s very stormy or bitter cold outside. I’ve been bringing Tess to work since I was at Borkowski PR. Now that I have my own firm, I decided to continue the tradition.”

“I didn’t even notice her when I came in here,” mused Donna, looking behind her at the dog bed.

“That’s because Tess likes to watch for an opportunity to mooch from her bed. She’s also fond of having a kip behind the drapes when she isn’t roaming about the office. The staff loves having her here.”

“I can see why. She’s adorable!”

“Tess often breaks the ice with clients," continued Karon. "I remember Mark Lamarr playing with her outside an important meeting. She now has a real thing about Leo Sayer - she recognizes him on the telly after having met him in the office. I think the staff enjoys Tess rooting through their bins for food every lunch time; in fact, she's so popular that there used to be a picture of her on Borkowski’s website where they described as the new MD."

“You should have a picture of her on your own website.”

“As soon as I have some free time, I plan on setting up a proper website. I never expected to be as busy as I am, but it’s all good. Anyway, so Benedict tells me you two are in a serious relationship.”

_Ah, chit chat time is over; and now we get down to the business at hand: what to do about Benedict’s girlfriend.  
_

Donna ceased with rubbing Tess’ belly and settled back into her chair. Tess gave a low whine and rubbed her head against Donna’s calf.

“Later, Tess,” said Donna. Then she addressed Karon. “Yes, we are.”

“So, tell me a little bit about yourself, Donna…”

 

 

The next thirty minutes were devoted to discussing Donna’s job and background. Donna noticed that Karon was busy taking notes as they chatted. Tess seemed to have given up for the moment on snitching any additional food, so she stretched out over Donna’s feet and was snoring lightly. Karon sat back for a moment to ponder her notes while Donna was answering a question about her column.

_So far, I like her personality. Donna’s bright, bubbly, has a good sense of humour and is fairly intelligent. All good girlfriend qualities, particularly if she’s going to wind up being more visible in the public eye. I like how she thinks before opening her mouth to answer a question. She also makes a good appearance, which is paramount when taking photos._

_I feel like I’m on a job interview. I thought this visit was for her to meet me and fill me in on the premiere. It’s fairly obvious that she’s been gathering information on me. Perhaps I should have brought along my resume and saved her the trouble._

“May I ask why you’re taking notes, Karon?”

“In case I need background information on you for any future interviews or press releases.”

_Whoa hoa here! I didn’t hire a publicist or is this one of the perks that comes from being in a relationship with one of her clients? It’s one thing to accompany Benedict to events, but I don’t plan on being interviewed. No one gives a damn who I am or what I do…except the chefs who I’m going to review._

“I don’t intend to give any interviews, Karon. I’m a restaurant critic, who tries to keep as low of a profile as possible. I think I already explained why anonymity is important to me,” Donna said in a serious tone.

_This bird is getting defensive for no reason. I need it in case my client’s career takes off and you wind up marrying him down the road or getting divorced. Right now, no one gives a fig who you are or what you do in regards to Benedict Cumberbatch. However, if things change; and he becomes famous, people will want to know who his significant other is. Christ, I hate that phrase._

“Forgive me for being blunt, Donna; but this has to do with Ben’s career, not yours. Besides, your name is out there on the internet. All one has to do is search. You write a very popular column for London’s second largest newspaper and have a nice-sized following. So, you’re not exactly what I’d call ‘anonymous’ – even though I understand your desire to remain so.”

“It makes it easier when I go out to do a review, which is why I never give my real name when making reservations,” Donna reiterated. “That’s also why we critics don’t post our pictures alongside our columns. The worst thing is for the kitchen to be tipped off that they have a critic in the restaurant.”

Karon regarded her with amusement over the rim of her teacup. “Forgive me, but your fellow critic at the Guardian, Jay Rayner, has his photo out there on his column for all to see.”

_Great. She thinks I’m paranoid. I probably am, too. Benedict is forever teasing me about being recognized in restaurants. Of course, he’s right and no one does – except for Jamie Oliver._

“That’s the Guardian’s policy. The Tribune’s is not to post photos of their critics,” retorted Donna.

_Karon did make a good point about Jay Rayner. His picture is always on his column. He has written a book, given interviews and has a twitter. It doesn’t seem to have done him any harm._

“I think people would be more inclined to recognize your name rather than your face when visiting restaurants,” observed Karon. “So, as long as you continue to use a different name when making a booking, your identity should be fairly safe. Anyway, I’m just going to keep your information on file. I would never use it without your permission.”

_She’d better not. I suddenly feel like an accessory for Benedict...like a scarf or a wristwatch._

“Ben told me that you’ll be attending the _Creation_ premiere with him and walking the red carpet.”

“I’m really looking forward to it!” confirmed Donna excitedly.

_She’s just full of contradictions, isn’t she? Wants to go, yet doesn’t want to be seen so it seems to me. Good thing I thought to have this chat so I can figure out how to handle the red carpet._

“I can’t wait to go out shopping for a gown!”

_This one thinks she’s going to the Oscars, bless her. Let me educate her._

Karon chuckled. “It’s not _that_ kind of red carpet. It’s a smaller scale, not at all like what you’d find at a Leicester Square premiere for a major motion picture. The dress code is more casual, so formal wear isn’t necessary. It’s going to be a viewing of the film, followed by an after party at the Natural History Museum. They have an exhibit set up about Darwin that’s opening in conjunction with the film.”

_I get it. No fancy gown for me this time. A nice cocktail dress will be fine. I’ve got plenty of things in my closet._

“Oh,” said Donna in a disappointed tone while picking up her scone.

Tess sprang to her feet, and Donna felt her paws on her knees. She gave Tess a bit of the scone, and the tiny dog licked her hand gratefully and then whined for more.

“Down, Tess!” commanded Karon in the same stern tone of voice she had used earlier.

_I can hear her talking to Benedict in that tone of voice. Hahaha!_

Tess looked back at her mistress and wagged her tail hopefully at Donna. She panted and her tongue dripped a bit of drool onto Donna’s knee.

“Can I give her the last piece?”

“I don’t think so. She’s had more than half already. Sit down, Tess. It will soon be lunchtime.”

Tess turned to face Karon and plopped her hindquarters down on Donna’s foot.

_She’s heavier than she looks,_ thought Donna. She took a small bite out of the remaining piece and some crumbs fell onto her chest, sliding onto the rug, which immediately attracted Tess’ attention. It was then that Donna noticed the red jam stain on her blouse.

_Damn! Look at that stain on my blouse. How did I manage to miss that? I was too preoccupied with petting Tess. I’ve got to use one of my wipes before it sets!_

Donna placed the plate onto the desk, hauled her bag up onto her lap and began to rummage through it. She pulled out one of her stain removal wipes and began to blot the stain, which had appeared to set.

_That valise has got to go,_ thought Karon. _I’m not lugging that around in addition to whatever shit Ben decides he can’t live without for the evening._

“This should wash right out,” said Donna. “These wipes are life savers.”

“By the way, Donna, please don’t bring that handbag to the premiere. It’s too big.”

Donna stared at Karon and blinked.  Her face was a combination of surprise and annoyance.

_And now she’s going to tell me how to dress_. _She certainly doesn’t tell Benedict what to wear at these things from what I’ve seen online or does she?_

_Oh, seems I've hit a nerve with that valise.  Too bad.  That is not negotiable.  If she does rock up with it, into the locked trunk it will go whether she likes it or not.  I will not have her schlepping that thing around on the red carpet._

“I had no intention of bringing it. I’ve got a small clutch that will be perfect.”

“Glad to hear it, because I’m the one who gets stuck holding all my client’s personal items while photos are being taken. Since you’ll be accompanying Ben, I’ll be looking after yours, too.”

“You’re going to carry my bag?”

“Only while photos are being taken. I’ll return it to you as soon as it’s over.”

“Why is _my_ photo being taken?”

_Apparently Miss Saint James is not a regular viewer of awards shows and film premieres. Allow me to fill her in, as it’s apparent that Ben didn’t.  
_

_She’s looking at me like I’ve got two heads. That’s what I get for not watching award shows and premieres. I find them so boring to watch on TV, but to actually attend one is a different matter. That’s exciting!_

“Didn’t Ben tell you how the red carpet works? He said he was going to fill you in.”

_Why are you even asking her, Karon? You know damn well he probably just glossed over the procedure, and she’s clueless about most of it. However, she did say her father was an important film critic and now editor for the New York Times Arts and Leisure Section._

“You were just saying that your father has worked as a film critic. Surely, he’s gone to his share of film premieres…”

Donna blushed and bit her lower lip. _And now it’s time to embarrass myself._

“True, my dad was – still is – an _entertainment_ critic.  He's reviewed films, plays and TV shows over the course of his career.  I really should know all about this, as he has gone to many premieres over the years. The truth is I never paid much attention except to his stories about which stars made asses of themselves on the red carpet and whether or not the movie was any good.”

Karon laughed. “And quite a few of them manage to make arses of themselves, believe me!”

_You happen to be dating one of them, but he's slowly improving._

“I was always more interested in my mom’s descriptions of what the actresses were wearing and what there was to eat and who got bombed at the after parties they rarely went to. Usually, they would leave right after the movie so Dad could get home to write and file his review. However, every now and then, they’d go to one of the parties to have a drink so Dad could compare notes with fellow critics and catch the general buzz that was going around about the film.”

_In other words, she knows nothing about what goes on. Well not done, Ben. I’ll just start from square one._

“I should be ashamed. Here I was raised by people who actually attended these kinds of things and never thought to ask them,” continued Donna apologetically.

“There’s no need to apologize, Donna. I did ask Ben to fill you in on what happens and am curious as to what his take was.”

“He said a limo would pick us up at my apartment about ninety minutes before the movie starts and that you would be riding in the limo with us.”

_So far, so good._

“As soon as we get to the theatre, we wait our turn to get out of the limo. Then we’ll walk the red carpet and after that we watch the film. Then we go to the after party and home after that.”

_At least I don’t have to start at square one. However, he forgot to mention the photos and the interviews, but not bad considering it was Ben._

“I’m assuming that Benedict will be having his photo taken somewhere along the line. I’ve seen the red carpet photos that they take…” Donna let her voice trail off as Karon shook her head and rolled her eyes. She picked up her plate, and Tess immediately looked up hopefully.

_What the heck?_

Donna looked down as she felt something wet on her instep. It was Tess drooling on her feet. She was eyeing the last piece of scone on Donna’s plate hopefully.

“He left out a few things.”

_Why should I not be surprised?  
_

“Such as?”

“When we arrive at the theatre, you will give me your handbag and any other personal items, such as a jacket, before we get out of the car as your hands need to be free. You will walk the red carpet with Ben to the wall of photographers.”

_The wall of photographers. That sounds daunting._

“He may stop to sign a few autographs and pose for candid fan photos depending on how much time we have. I’ll be right behind you the whole time…”

“Thank you, Karon. I appreciate that.”

_Hahaha! Ben’s the one I need to stick close to._

“… because I need to stick close to Ben in case I need to intervene or advise him.”

_Of course she does. This isn’t about you, Donna. This is about Benedict. I’m probably just extra baggage as far as she’s concerned_.

“Then the both of you will pose for a couple of photos together, and Ben will pose alone. You’ll stand off to the side with me while they’re photographing him.”

_Why would they want to take my photo? Olivia was an actress, so that makes perfect sense. I’m just a restaurant critic_. _I forgot what Anna did…oh, she designed furniture, and she posed. I guess it’s expected of me as his girlfriend_.

“Benedict didn’t say anything about me posing for photos!”

“It’s not mandatory, Donna. If you aren’t comfortable with the idea, you certainly don’t have to. I realize you wish to keep a low profile…”

_Even though it would be in my client’s best interest to show that he’s in a loving relationship again._

“…However, it would be helpful for Ben’s image to be seen with a girlfriend.”

_Hmmm…she has a point there._

“Are there a lot of photographers? You did say a wall of photographers before.”

Karon laughed. “They call it a wall because they all stand shoulder-to-shoulder in a line. Their bags and equipment often litter the floor of the front row. At the really large premieres, they can be three or four deep and many stand on bleachers in order to get a better view. They are packed together like sardines at those - all jockeying for the best photos; so we refer to it as a wall. This isn’t a _major_ motion picture premiere, so there won’t be that many photographers.”

“Then what?”

“Ben and I will walk whatever press line there is. He’ll be interviewed about the film and his role. Again, I’m not expecting a tremendous amount of press coverage. Just the usual suspects.”

_Whatever the heck that means…I’m way out of my element._

“What do I do while he’s doing that?”

“You have a few options open to you. You can either walk it with him and stand beside him or you can stand behind him with me. If you prefer, I can arrange for you to bypass it and be brought straight into the theatre. It’s entirely up to you, Donna. If you decide you don’t want to be photographed, I can arrange to have you brought directly into the theatre and that way forgo the whole circus.”

_I bet it will be interesting to watch Benedict at work. If I go right into the theatre, I’ll miss all that. I don’t want to miss out on this opportunity. I can just remain in the background…like a nice potted palm._

“What do you do while we’re watching the movie?”

“It depends. Sometimes I sit or stand in the back and watch it. Other times I hang out with the other publicists and PA’s in a holding area until it’s over.”

“Will anyone on the press line ask me questions if I stay with Benedict?” _  
_

“It’s possible, as he was in a relationship for a long time; and his ex’s always walked the red carpet with him and posed for photos…”

_Yep. I’ve seen the photos of him and Olivia at these things. Sometimes she looked happy and sometimes she didn’t. Anna was hot, and Benedict looked like he wanted to jump her bones. I remember that one picture of him with his hand on her ass, though I‘ve been trying to forget it.  
_

“…but it’s paramount that you and Ben discuss how you want to address any questions that may come up about who you are and what your relationship is. I don’t want you giving one answer and him another - that is if he even wants you to speak to any reporters…”

_If he even wants me to speak? Holy cow! I don’t need to speak._

“…which I don’t advise first time out. I definitely need to know what to say in case I’m asked, which also happens on the rare occasion. I need to know if you’re going as Ben’s friend, date, girlfriend, fiancée or partner. We need to give you a label so we’re all on the same page.”

_I need to be labeled. How interesting. Well, I’m his…what am I? I’m more than a girlfriend at this point, but less than a fiancée. It’s almost understood between us that I’m a fiancée, yet he hasn’t officially popped the question yet. This is getting complicated. Hmmm._

“Well, Benedict and I are in a serious, committed relationship, and we have an understanding about our future…”

Karon raised a quizzical eyebrow at her.

_An understanding…of what for Christ’s sake?_

_She’s getting impatient for me to just spit it out. I keep catching myself start to waffle just like he does._

“We need to keep this label simple, Donna,” declared Karon with all the patience she could muster. “Ben can’t be giving a long-winded explanation on the red carpet. It’s bad enough he makes a right meal of every question and his responses are akin to War and Peace, bless him. We don’t need to add to it.”

“I could wear a sign around my neck that says ‘Benedict Cumberbatches’ Life Partner’,” quipped Donna.  She began to giggle.

_Holy Christ. Olivia and Anna were girlfriends. This one wants to be a Life Partner. I don’t recall giving her that choice! That’s as bad as Significant Other in my book. That’s much too cumbersome. Girlfriend. Fiancee. Friend. Date. Partner – all simple to remember._

Donna noted that Karon did not laugh along with her.

“It is too wordy to say that you are in a serious, committed relationship with an understanding about your future, Donna. It will also only lead to more questions about what the future understanding is about the future.”

“That we intend to marry, of course,” explained Donna as if it were the most obvious thing.

“Then you say you’re engaged.”

“But we’re not – officially anyway.”

“Christ,” muttered Karon under her breath.

“You really hate these conversations, don’t you, Karon?”

“It usually isn’t this …difficult to define and label a client’s… new relationship.”

“I’m sorry, Karon. I really don’t mean to cause you stress.”

_You may not mean to, but you’re doing a brilliant job of it.  You've managed to pick up where Ben left off the last time he was here.  Christ on a crutch!_

Tess nuzzled against Donna’s leg and let out a low whine. Donna bent down to scratch her ears.

“The worst thing you and Ben can do is to give conflicting information to the press. That’s how rumours can start. For example: Ben says you’re a girlfriend, you say decide to say that you’re just friends. Then they begin to question why the answers don’t jive. Before you know it, we’ve got a right mess – correction: I’ve got a right mess because I’m the one who has to clarify the situation. It is paramount that a team is on the same page.”

_Okay. I’m not an accessory for Benedict after all. I’m on his team. Team Benedict. Hahahah! I think I’ll keep my mouth shut and smile a lot. That way I can’t get Benedict or myself into trouble._

“I think I’ll just keep quiet on the red carpet. It sounds safer that way,” said Donna. “Maybe one photo with Ben would be okay,” she added hesitantly.

“Believe me, Donna, it’s for the best not to speak to them. Ben manages to get into enough trouble on his own. I appreciate not having to worry about two people slipping up.”

_Benedict wasn’t kidding. She’s tough alright. I bet she wishes I’d just stay home._

“I’m pretty sure Benedict wants everyone to know that we’re together; but I’ll make sure to discuss it with him over the weekend and let you know.”

“You will probably run into some of your colleagues from the Tribune. Their film critic will assuredly be there to review the film.”

_Oh, she’s right!  I'll have people to talk to and hang out with!  Joe will definitely be there to review it. Monica will do the red carpet interviews, and Rudy will be taking photos. It’s okay because they all know I’m dating Benedict. This is way more complicated than just plopping my butt in a seat and watching a movie._

"That's right!  I can hang out with them while Benedict's doing his thing."

"No.  You can't.  They are press and have a job to do."

"I'm technically press, too."

"You will be there in the capacity of my client's...let's say: companion - until you tell me what you and Ben decide your label should be.  You the purposes of the premiere and after party, you will be off duty-press and your co-workers will be there to work, not socialize - especially not with the attendees.  There will be no hanging out with them on the red carpet.  You can say hello, but nothing more than that." 

_We'll see about that!  I work with these people all the time and will not be rude to them.  I've heard them talking about being treated like shit sometimes at these things._

“What happens after the movie ends?”

“We head out to the after party, and there will usually be another red carpet, wall of photographers and press line before you go in. Again, you can stay with Ben and me or I can have you escorted inside to wait for Ben to join you. There may some press inside, but you’ll be able to relax and mingle while he’s occupied.”

_Thank God, Benedict asked if Carly and Steve can come. I can hang out with them at the after party._

“What do you do during the after party?”

“Have a glass of wine and socialize with the other publicists and PA’s whom I know until Ben wants to leave. Then we pile into the limo and home you go.”

“It’s not as simple as I envisioned it,” muttered Donna.

_How bad can it be? Really? It actually sounds like it might be a lot of fun. No one is really going to care who I am. It’s Benedict they will be interested in and the movie. Carly and Steve will be there, too.  
_

“Oh, before I forget,” said Karon. “I gave Benedict the extra tickets for your sister and brother-in-law.”

“I already gave them to my sister. She’s thrilled to be going.”

“Glad to hear it. You do realize they will just go straight into the theatre. They won’t be able to keep you company on the red carpet.”

Donna nodded. “There sure is a lot to take in.”

“Well, you don’t have to make any snap decisions. You can let me know when I come to collect you that night.”

_Putting nerves and my job aside, I am Benedict’s significant other – not just a date or girlfriend - and I need and want to be by his side, supporting him. That’s my job as his life partner. He would do the same for me without reservation. Part of me is very excited to see the process, too. I’m sure I’ll have a blast. I’ve got to stop being neurotic and relax and enjoy this perk._

“I’ve already made up my mind, Karon. I’m walking the red carpet as Benedict’s partner and taking a couple of photos. I’ll wait behind him on the press line. My job is to support him, and I’m happy to do it.”

_Ah, Partner! Perfect! No need for further explanation._

Karon beamed. “Brilliant!”

“I’m sure it will be a very interesting and fun experience!” added Donna with a big smile.

“It’s nice to see Ben so besotted again,” declared Karon. “He was positively radiant whenever he spoke of you the other day.”

Donna blushed. “That’s nice of you to say.”

“I’m not being nice, I’m being truthful,” corrected Karon gently. “I’ve seen Ben when he’s in love, but he’s never been as over the moon as he is now. He just glows with an inner joy that I hadn’t seen in any of his other relationships.”

“It makes me very happy to hear you say that,” smiled Donna. “I love him very much. He’s a wonderful man, and I’m lucky to have found him.”

The two women sat in silence as they finished their tea. Donna noticed Tess was still eyeing the piece of scone that was still on her plate. The little dog rubbed her head against Donna’s leg.

_Tess really wants that scone badly. She’s such a cutie pie. I can take a hint, Tess. Let’s see what I can do to help you out._

“Could I trouble you for another cup of that delicious tea please?” asked Donna, handing her empty cup and saucer to Karon.

Karon removed the tea cozy from the teapot and lifted it. When she wasn’t looking, Donna sneakily fed the last bite of her scone to Tess, who slobbered all over her hand in appreciation.

_I won’t tell her if you don’t, Tess,_ Donna chuckled to herself.

_Well, Donna Saint James seems an amiable match for Ben. She’s obviously as deeply in love with him as he is with her. Let’s just hope their love continues to grow and the relationship flourishes. I’d like to see Ben settle down and have the marriage and children he’s been pining away for since the day we met. Hopefully, Donna can be of help in grooming him for stardom, should things go his way. He’ll need someone to keep him grounded and to support him. I’m glad she’s so gung-ho about the premiere. Let’s just hope her enthusiasm doesn’t vanish once she gets there_ , thought Karon Maskill, as she refilled their teacups.

“So, Donna, now that we've sorted out the logistics for the most part, I’d like to now go over how to pose on the red carpet.”

_Posing lessons?  Is she kidding me?  No.  She's dead serious!_

Donna looked down at Tess and scratched her behind the ears.  Tess rubbed her head appreciatively against Donna's hand and rolled over onto her back, paws in the air.  Karon pushed back her chair, got up and came around from her desk and stood in the center of her office, behind Donna.

"Now, then.  I'll be a photographer, and you'll pretend that you're with Ben.  Most likely you'll be either holding his hand or his arm..."

"This is going to be a _long_ morning, Tess," Donna Saint James muttered under her breath.  "I'll rub your belly later.  The boss wants to give me posing lessons now."

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I have read articles that Karon Maskill did take her dog to work. The dog's name is Tess, but I could never find the species. Therefore, I decided that Tess would be a miniature English Bulldog in this universe.
> 
> 2\. I have no idea as to how getting to the red carpet and what the actual procedures involved are once there. I'm just tailoring it to my story. 
> 
> 3\. Jay Rayner is the acid-tongued restaurant critic at the Guardian, who Donna is loosely-based on. His bad reviews are hilarious.


	96. Chapter 96

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Donna fills Benedict in on her meeting with Karon. Benedict fills Wanda and Timothy in on an extra guest. Andrew Scott attends the premiere of the Neil and Toni Show in Donna’s flat.
> 
> Note: I'll be using ********** for things happening at the same time.

 

 

Benedict Cumberbatch was sitting cross-legged on the bed in his hotel room, responding to some emails when his Skype chime sounded. He smiled when he saw it was Donna calling him and immediately answered. 

“Hi, Darling! What a lovely surprise!” 

Donna’s face filled the screen. She smiled back at him. 

“Hi, yourself! Thank you for the beautiful flowers! You sent enough for both of my vases!” 

Benedict beamed at her. “That was the idea. I did promise to keep your vases filled with flowers, and I always keep my promises.” 

“That you do! Look how nice they look!” _  
_

_I wonder if she realizes that I nicked the idea from Dad. I love that he still sends Mum that rose every week after all the years they’ve been together. That is such a romantic thing to do. However, I need to change up the types of flowers I send Donna every week, as roses are so fucking expensive.  
_

Donna got up and aimed her laptop at the breakfast bar where her cow vase was filled with yellow cabbage roses. Then she moved to the living room area so Benedict could see his Waterford vase was filled with long-stemmed red roses. 

“They do look smashing. I’m chuffed you like them.” 

_They bloody well should for what I haven’t yet paid for them. I can’t wait for some more money to start rolling in. My credit card bills have been much higher than normal since I took up with Donna, but it’s my fault for always pulling out all the stops in order to impress her. Is it wrong to want to treat my woman properly?_

“I LOVE them! You are a very sweet and thoughtful man, Benedict; but you don’t have to spend so much on flowers every week. The cost must be insane.” 

_Yeah, that it is; but it makes her so happy. I love how considerate she is. To be fair, she’s offered many times to pay for things; but I let my pride get in the way. Dad brought me up to believe that the man pays for everything when courting a woman, as he so eloquently puts it. He should be proud that he managed to raise such an old soul. Hahahah!_

“I don’t want you to be concerned with how much I pay for flowers, Love. It gives me great pleasure to see how much enjoyment you get out of them.” 

_That’s entirely true. It does make me feel over the moon to see how thrilled she is to receive them every week, and I know I’ve been reaping the benefits in the bedroom. My sex life has been an embarrassment of riches lately!  
_

“I just don’t want you maxing out your credit card over them.” 

_It’s too late for that, Donna.  
_

“I know you were saying things were a little tight until you get paid for _Wreckers_ , so please don’t feel you have to impress me, because I understand actors aren’t paid every week like I am.” 

_That’s what I love about her. Donna really does understand my situation, which is why she tries to pay. Maybe I should let her every now and then. I know for a fact that she makes a whole hell of a lot more than I do, but that was because I happened to see her pay cheque stub on her desk before she had a chance to file it._

“I promise not to max out my credit over flowers.” Benedict rubbed the back of his neck. “Perhaps I’ll change up the kind of flowers I send...you know…a little variety.” 

_That sounded cheap, Benedict. Really cheap. Now, she knows you are spending more than you should and might regret it._

“I love all kinds of flowers! And as you know, they often last two weeks; so you don’t have to feel obligated to send them every week.” 

Benedict sighed inwardly with relief. _Well done me. I’m off the weekly hook. She’s happy, I’m happy. Hopefully, she’ll remember how sweet and thoughtful I am when the shit hits the fan once our parents are in the same room._

“How was the train ride?” 

“Fine, as far as train rides go. I had time for a short kip and a catch up on my reading.” 

“How’s the hotel? Are the rooms nice?” 

“Well, it’s certainly not as luxurious as the Nare was,” laughed Benedict as he slid off the bed, lifted his laptop and turned it in order to show her the room as he walked around. “See - just a standard hotel room with a king bed, dresser, desk and chair. The loo is in here. As you can see it’s your typical loo. It’s a good thing you’re not here, as there are just enough towels for me. See – one of each size.” 

Donna giggled. “Oh, that would never do for me!” 

“And lastly, a built-in wardrobe and bolted over here on the wall is a flat screen telly so I’m not tempted to nick it. All in all it’s nothing special; however, the room is clean and the bed is comfy. That’s all I really need or care about.” 

“What time is the wedding?” 

Benedict glanced at the bedside clock. “I’ve got to be in the lobby in an hour. They’ve hired a bus to transport the guests to the mine.”   

As he turned the laptop around and settled back onto the bed, Donna could see that he was only wearing a pair of salmon colored, boxer briefs under his short light blue robe and there were black dress socks on his feet. 

Donna regarded his feet. “Tsk, tsk. You disappoint me, Benedict. I thought for sure you would have had a pair of owl wedding socks hidden away in your sock drawer.” 

Benedict gazed down at his feet and started to laugh. “Yeah. I probably should have tried to find some. They would have been very appropriate given the occasion yes?” 

“Don’t you need time to get dressed?” 

“Yeah, but it only takes me ten minutes to sort myself out. I’ve showered and shaved already.” He leaned close to the camera so she could see his smooth-looking skin. “See. No stubble on this mug.” 

“Ben, I wanted to ask you if I could temporarily move into your apartment.” 

Benedict’s eyes lit up and his heart began to beat faster. “Absolutely! Is this going to be a trial to see how compatible we are living together? For how long do you want to stay for?” 

“I’d like to stay for the duration of my parents visit.” 

_Oh, Benedict, you’re such a tit. She’s looking to escape the parents from hell and wants to hide out at your flat. Not that I blame her in the slightest._

“Bloody hell! You’ll go to any lengths to put some distance between yourself and them,” he snickered. “Seriously, has it been that bad already? Didn’t they just arrive?” 

“Yes, yes and yes! Their flight got in early, no thanks to American Airlines. They had breakfast with Carly, came up here to unpack and went out to meet Uncle Rodney and Aunt Bea for lunch. So, I’m blissfully alone until late-afternoon and am using the time constructively. I’ve already gone for my manicure and pedicure.” 

“Let me see your toes then,” demanded Benedict. 

Donna slipped her left foot out of the cow head slipper and raised her foot so he could inspect her latest toe nail art. Her nails were painted black and the large toe had a white skull and crossbones on it. 

“Blimey! You never fail to amaze me, Donna Saint James,” Benedict chuckled. “What in the hell inspired you to choose that theme? Have you been watching _Pirates of the Caribbean_ again?” 

“My parents visit,” quipped Donna, as she put her slipper back on. “It somehow seemed appropriate.” 

“What are your plans for the remainder of the day?” 

“I’m going to bake some cookies as soon as we hang up. The butter should be room temperature by then.” 

“Who are you baking them for?” 

“My favorite man.” 

“I suppose the lucky man is your father?” inquired Benedict petulantly. 

“Well, yes and no. I’m making a double batch, but I’m making them primarily for you.” 

“That was jolly good timing! My biscuit jar just happens to be empty. What kind are you making?” 

“Campeche.” 

“I’ve never heard of those. Care to fill me in?” 

“They are Mexican cinnamon sugar cookies that are made with lots of butter and cinnamon. It’s a slice and bake, so it’s super easy to make. We make them at Carldonn at least once a week. They aren’t the prettiest cookies, but they are very yummy.” 

Benedict raised an eyebrow at her. “Should a food critic be using a word like yummy? It doesn’t sound very professional.” 

“When said food critic is off duty, yes.” 

“By the way, I thought your parents were staying with Carly and Steve. What are they doing unpacking in your flat?” 

“Well, things changed as far as the sleeping arrangements are concerned, which turned out to be one of my sister’s better ideas. My parents are going to sleep in my apartment and my Grandpa is going to stay with Carly and Steve. My choice is to either sleep on the couch, which doesn’t thrill me, or sleep with you in your nice, big, king-sized bed in Hampstead with the classy bed linens.” 

Benedict waggled his eyebrows at her. “You know what my vote is. I’d prefer you sleep with me. I’ve been lonely at night since we got back from Cornwall. I miss having you beside me in bed to snuggle with.” 

“I miss you, too. So, is it alright if I stay with you?” 

“Of course it is. You didn’t even have to ask me. You have the key and alarm code yes?" 

Donna nodded. “I do. I promise I won’t make a mess.” 

“Frankly, I’d rather you promise not to clean up,” said Benedict, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was in a rush when I left this morning…” 

_What a surprise! His apartment must already be a mess._

“…so the bed’s not made up …” 

_Who is he kidding? It’s never made up. That comforter spends more time on the floor than on his bed._

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck and cringed. 

“…and the laundry is still in the dryer…” 

_Does his laundry ever leave the dryer? I swear it stays in there until he needs to find something to wear. His dryer is like extra drawer space. I’ve also learned its best to leave these things alone._

“I’ll wait to do laundry at my place.” 

“…and I didn’t have time to empty the dishwasher.” 

_Why empty the dishwasher when you can set the table right out of it. The man has no need of kitchen cabinets._

“I don’t plan on doing any cooking.” 

Benedict rubbed his thigh anxiously. “Erm…that’s good then, because I didn’t have a chance to do any real food shopping this week. I had dinner with my parents that one night, and Mum gave me all the leftovers to take back so I didn’t need to cook. Then you and I went out the other night. There is some stuff in the pantry and fridge in case you get hungry, but nothing worthy of your extraordinary palate I’m afraid.” 

Donna raised an eyebrow at him. “What is that supposed to mean?” 

“It means you’re in luck if you’re feeling peckish. If you’re looking for more than that, you’re bang out of luck. There’s only snack food. I’ve got an abundance of booze, crisps, nuts, crackers…maybe a tin or two of tuna. I don’t recommend the peanut butter as I’ve been eating out of the jar with a spoon, so it’s probably quite a breeding ground for my germs. However, there’s still some cheese in the fridge, plenty of condiments, beer, wine, soda. I’m pretty sure the milk is spoilt by now, and I did drink out of the carton.” 

_My honey has all the fixings for a cocktail party, except for the peanut butter and soured milk._

“Don’t worry, Benedict. It’s not a problem. My family will be expecting me to eat meals with them while they’re here. I’m sure my mom will have breakfast waiting for me every morning – just like when I lived at home.” 

“By the way, my loo is sparkling clean…the toilet, sink, tub – everything.” 

_I am soooo fucking happy I thought to give the place a good cleaning last night. She would have freaked out had she seen it earlier in the week. The tub was ghastly even by my low standards._

“That’s a relief,” teased Donna. “Now, I can leave my shower shoes behind.” 

“Sod off, Donna.” 

“Sorry. Your bathroom is always clean. I’m never afraid to use it.” 

_She would have been this week. I was hesitant to use it this week._

“Well, that’s a comfort to hear then. Before I forget, there are plenty of clean towels in the cupboard in the loo…that should be enough for one of your showers anyway.” 

“Your cheekiness knows no bounds today, Benedict.” 

“That’s funny. I was thinking the same thing about you!” 

“I promise not to be a towel hog.” 

“Impossible. Oink, oink!” 

“Piss off, Benedict.” 

_I notice she’s picked up a couple of British terms recently, and I’ve started using some American ones. I suppose it’s only natural._

Benedict smiled widely at her. “Seriously, I just did a load of towels last night, so the linen cupboard’s been properly replenished. Glad I was able to sort that out for you,” he laughed. “Just ignore the clutter, okay? And don’t go into the airing cupboard whatever you do…I’ve got stuff drying in there.” 

“Promise. I really appreciate it, Benedict,” said Donna sitting back in her chair so he could see the upper half of her body. 

“For fucks sake! Did Karon shoot you then?” He cackled, pointing to the red stain on her blouse. “That must have been some conversation.” 

“Oh, I dropped some strawberry jam on my blouse. I already treated it with one of those wipes I carry, so the stain should wash out.” 

_Of course she did, bless her. I bet Karon got a kick out of that bag of hers. She probably referred to it as a valise._

“That’s my girl scout! Always prepared,” snickered Benedict. “So what did you think of the formidable Ms. Maskill?” 

“She’s not at all what I expected,” mused Donna. “You were right about her being tough. She can also be….um…how to put this delicately…” 

“Snarky as hell,” finished Benedict with a smirk. 

“She hated my handbag.” 

“I hate your handbag.” 

“She had the nerve to tell me it was too big to take to the premiere.” 

Benedict nodded. “It _is_ too bloody big. Besides Karon’s the one who has to carry it until we’re done walking the red carpet and taking photos, which I know she detests. She’s always telling me to just bring a billfold, house key and mobile. Anything else stays in the limo. She even makes me spit out my gum before I’m allowed to get out of the limo.” 

“Actually, I’m ashamed to tell you that I failed Red Carpet Procedures 101.” 

Benedict snorted with laughter. “I like that – Red Carpet Procedures 101. Very funny, Love!” 

“Um…it’s your fault I failed, Professor Cumberbatch. You didn’t tell me everything I needed to know,” mock-scolded Donna. “Like the photos, for example.” 

“Shame on me then,” giggled Benedict. “I’ll let you spank me when you next see me.” 

“Is this your kinky side starting to come out, Sir?” 

Benedict blushed. “You’ve been sleeping with me for how long now?” 

_Almost three weeks if you don’t count the mutual masturbation and oral sex we’ve been having the past couple of months prior to that._

“Honestly, Donna, do you _really_ think I’ve got a kinky side?” 

_He’s got to be teasing me. My man’s favorite flavor in the bedroom is vanilla. I’ll just play coy._

She batted her eyelashes at him. “I don’t know for sure. Do you?” 

_One day I hope I can convince her to try something really unusual and different in bed…like those fantasies I have every now and then. I think it would be very exciting for us both, but we’re still in the early stages of exploring the sexual side of our relationship. It’s too soon for anything too adventurous.  
_

_I notice he’s not jumping in to answer me. He’s looking at me like he’s trying to decide how to answer me. Hmmm…I think he might just have a naughty side I haven’t seen yet. There is something erotic about that possibility.  
_

_I’d better not say anything at this time. I’ll play it by ear as we get to know each other in bed better.  
_

“Maybe, maybe not,” Benedict finally replied with a devilish wink. 

“You’re such a tease, Benedict!” 

“What did Karon say about me?” he prodded. 

“I’m sure nothing that she hasn’t already said to your face.” 

“True. I can never accuse Karon of mincing words. She can be quite brutal at times.” 

“I did find out that I have to be labeled because I’m now part of Team Benedict. I’m thinking of having t-shirts made for all of us to wear. I think you look best in blue because it compliments your gorgeous blue eyes and the lettering…” 

“For fucks sake! Did she _really_ say that or are you busting my balls?” 

“I would never hurt your balls. We need them to make babies one day.” 

“Team Benedict,” he repeated with a horrified expression. “Are you shitting me?” 

“I was just kidding, but she did say I was part of the team; and we need to decide on what to call me if you get asked at the premiere about who I am and what our relationship is.” 

“Isn’t it obvious? You’re my girlfriend, and we’re in a serious relationship. That’s all they need to know, though I have my doubts anyone will even ask or give two shits. It’s not like I’m Hugh Grant or Jude Law. You can call yourself whatever you fancy – my date, my girlfriend. Any one of those is fine with me.” 

“I’m glad I brought this up because this is exactly what Karon meant by we all have to be on the same page. We need to decide together on what to call me. What do you think I should be called? Your life partner or just partner? How about significant other? That sounds kind of cold though, doesn’t it? Or do you like the sound of… ” 

_Are we not on the same page? Didn’t I just say she’s my girlfriend? I guess Donna doesn’t fancy that label?_

“How about ‘Donna’ then?” suggested Benedict sarcastically. 

“Stop that, Ben! I’m being serious!” 

“So was I – about being my girlfriend. Do you have another…label in mind? I sense discontent with the girlfriend…label.” 

“I’d like to be introduced as your _life partner_ , and you can leave in the part about us being in a serious relationship. What do you think, Honey?”

_You don’t really want to know what I’m thinking right now. I think I can always count on Donna to complicate the simplest things, bless her. I need to keep it as simple as possible. I would think the phrase ‘life partner’ already implies that we’re in a serious relationship, but what do I know? I’m just a drippy actor._

“I think that’s a lot for me to have to remember, Darling. Red carpets are not one of my strengths, as Karon is often a little too fond of reminding me.” 

“Okay. It’s your career, so you should pick what you want me to be.” 

_Christ on a crutch! I already told her. Patience, Benedict. Practice patience and be kind when you tell her. Do not raise your voice or get snippy with her._

“Thank you. Please tell Karon we shall refer to you as my girlfriend. Period,” he said curtly. “And it’s probably for the best if you don’t do any talking to the press. I have a natural talent for cocking things up on my own as it is, and I don’t need you adding to it.” 

_“I” shouldn’t do any talking? From the way Karon was talking, he shouldn’t be either! Hahaha!_

_OH, shit, Benedict. Look at her face. That was not the most tactful thing you’ve ever said to her. Apologize before she lets you have it._

“I’m not saying this to hurt you in any way, Sweetheart. I just want your first red carpet experience to be a positive one and to go smoothly. We’ll be doing these together for the rest of our lives, so I want it to be fun for you. It’s easier to just smile and nod. Trust me.” 

_Here comes the cute nose crinkle and sincere lop-sided smile that never fails to melt my heart._

Benedict crinkled his nose and smiled at her. 

_And there’s the cute nose crinkle, right on schedule._ _He’s probably right. If we keep it simple, there will be less chance for errors or misunderstandings to occur. I am his girlfriend. I have been officially labeled. Yippee Skippy!  
_

“I’m not hurt or mad. I completely understand. Girlfriend it is. I’ll let Karon know that I am to be referred to as your girlfriend. You know, I could have a t-shirt made up that says ‘Benedict’s Girlfriend’ on it. That way everyone will know right off the bat what I am to you. What do you think?” 

“I think you should bugger off now or I will be sorely tempted to spank you when next we’re together.” 

_Do I suspect he has a thing with spanking? I think it’s time to move this conversation along._

“By the way, I met your friend, Tess.” 

Benedict grinned. “Oh, Tess is brilliant! She’s the office mascot.” 

“She’s adorable, but she scared the shit out of me. I wasn’t expecting to see a dog in the office.” 

“Tess is always there.” 

“When I dropped my scone, Tess was right there to eat it up off the rug.” 

“Tess excels in hoovering food up off the floor,” chortled Benedict. “I always share my ginger nuts with her. Did you make friends then?” 

“Well, she drooled all over my handbag and feet and let me rub her tummy.” 

“You don’t offer to rub my tummy.” 

“I rub other things for you.” 

“Mmmm…yes. Yes, you do,” snickered Benedict with a sly grin. “My other things could really use a good rubbing right now.” 

“If you prefer to have your tummy rubbed from now on, I can do that instead.” 

“You’re being such a cheeky twat today, Donna.” 

“I think you bring out the twatness in me.” 

“Is twatness a word?” wondered Benedict, puckering his lips. 

“I doubt it, but it should be, don’t you think?” 

“I think you’re daft.” 

“And you aren’t?” 

Benedict rubbed his upper lip and laughed. “Touche!” 

“So do you think Tess and I have bonded?” 

“Did you feed her?” 

“Half a scone with cream and jam.” 

“Food plus belly rubbing. I’d say you have a friend for life then.” 

“Make that two friends for life. You are my number one.” 

“And you are mine. Oh before I forget, the brunch plans for Sunday have changed slightly.” 

“How slightly?” asked Donna with a frown. 

“Well, Mum and Dad gave me a call…” 

_Oh, oh…I wonder what Wanda and Tim have cooked up this time._

“… and they came up with an absolutely brilliant alternative to brunch at Caprice.” 

_Damn. I was looking forward to trying the foie gras muffins at Caprice after Jimmy and Hattie raved about them_. _Maybe we can do brunch with them the Sunday after my parents leave – that is if Benedict and I are still together after that._

“They suggested we meet at their flat first for a drink and then walk over to view Kensington Gardens and have an early afternoon tea at the Orangery.” 

_So Wanda and Tim yearn to return to the scene of the crime. I’m going to be nervous going there with them. What if we get the same server, and she remembers us?_

“Your Granddad is welcome to join us, of course. I’d enjoy meeting him, and I’m sure Mum and Dad will too.” 

_Now, I’m going to have to ring Mum as soon as we hang up to tell her that there will be another for tea on Sunday. I’m sure she won’t mind. The grandfather can always act as referee, should we require one.  
_

_Grandpa Colin is going to be tickled pink when he hears he’s going to be having afternoon tea with Wanda Ventham. I can’t wait to tell him!_

“My Grandpa is a fan of Wanda’s. He used to watch her on TV all the time.” 

_Christ. I hope he’s not one of those weird fans. I can’t visualize these old guys having a crush on Mum._

“So, when was this decided, Benedict?” 

“Erm…last night actually,” replied Benedict, tugging on his ear lobe. 

“You certainly were a busy little bee last night. Cleaning, doing laundry, changing the plans for Sunday without consulting me...” Donna let her voice trail off purposefully. 

“I’m going to be blunt, Donna. My parents have promised to be on their best behaviour. However, from past experience, Mum cannot be trusted to hold her tongue…especially given the circumstances. We all felt it best to have the first face-to-face meeting in their flat. That way if there is going to be an unpleasant scene, it won’t be in public.” 

Donna’s face softened. “I hate public scenes more than anything, Benedict.” 

“As do I. Better they lash out at each other where no one can hear them. I’ll make sure the windows are closed.” 

“It’s summer, Benedict; and it’s supposed to be warm on Sunday. Are you trying to suffocate my parents right off the bat so they can’t retaliate?” 

Benedict snapped his fingers as if an idea had just come to him. 

“Hmmm…why didn’t I think of that? Haven’t you heard, the weather is supposed to break and turn substantially cooler or back to normal for here.” 

“Unfortunately, you’re right,” said Donna after pondering his words for a minute. “The first meeting should take place in private. Then we can chance going out. I’ll let them know the plans tonight. You were able to make a reservation at the Ivy Club for tomorrow night, right?” 

“Yeah. It’s all taken care of. I booked us a table in the Library Room for half eight. I’ll meet you all there at eight, and we can have a drink in the bar before we’re seated.” 

_Dinner at eight thirty? They are going to have a fit! They hate eating that late._

“Did you forget that my parents like to dine earlier, Honey?” 

Benedict rubbed his index finger over his upper lip. “Nope.” 

“I take it the earlier time slots were filled.” 

“Nope.” 

“Can you please switch the time? My parents like to eat…” 

“And your _life partner_ prefers to dine later, and since he’s the one paying the motherfucking bill, we _will_ be eating at half eight,” snapped Benedict with finality. 

He then crinkled his nose and smiled at her. This time she noted his smile was sardonic and had a condescending air about it, which was something Donna had not seen him do before. 

_Well, how about that? Honey’s being assertive. However, I’m not in a position to argue with him. He’s one hundred percent right. He’s paying, so he’s got every right to call the shots as to what time we eat. I like eating later, like Benedict does. Mom and Dad are going to have to just make the best of it. What a fun evening this is shaping up to be._

“Okay,” said Donna in a small voice. 

“I’ve got to get ready now.” 

“Make sure to take pictures. I always love to see what the bride is wearing.” 

_Maybe I’ll get some ideas. I wonder what kind of wedding dress an avant-garde artist bride wears._

“Will do. Enjoy your time with your parents, and remember that I love you. Cheers!” 

“I love you, too, Ben Honey.” 

 

******************************************

  

Benedict Cumberbatch checked his laptop to see if his parents had signed into Skype. To his annoyance, they weren’t. He leaned across the bed and retrieved his mobile from the bedside stand and punched in their landline number. Wanda picked up after the third ring. 

**_“Hello?”_**

_I love how Mum always sounds so pleasant when she answers the phone. Just wait. I can make that tone change within seconds when I drop this bomb on them._

“Hi, Mum! Are you having a nice day?” 

There was a moment of silence. 

_I was until now. Ben’s supposed to be in Wales for a wedding, so why is he ringing me up to chat all of a sudden? Why do I have a sneaking suspicion that something is amiss?  
_

_She knows I’m going to tell her something she’s not going to want to hear._

**_“Yes, I am, actually. I just got in from a long ladies lunch with Judi, Diana and Una. We went to the Babylon Roof Gardens and ate out on the terrace.”_**

“Oh, I haven’t been there in an age!” remarked Benedict. “Today is certainly a beautiful day for it, too.” 

**_“We had a fabulous time.”_**

_Actually, they had a fabulous time helping me to plan your father’s surprise birthday party that he wasn’t supposed to have. At least I was able to get Una alone before Judi and Diana arrived so I could brief her on the bloody truth. Una is such a good friend and confidante, bless her. Especially, once she was done lecturing me on the importance of telling the truth.  
_

“You know, Mum, the hanging gardens would be the perfect venue to hold Dad’s birthday party.” 

**_“We checked while we were here, but that date is already booked. Judi offered to book the Ivy Club under her membership; but I told her that you were going to take care of it. I’ve really been rethinking the Chinese buffet…”_**

“Mum! I thought we had this sorted out already. You don’t want to look cheap in front of our family and friends!” scolded Benedict. 

**_“Look, Benedict, as much as I love your father; I’m not prepared to go into debt for a surprise party that he probably won’t even want.”_**

_What the fuck???_

“Mum,” began Benedict slowly. “Weren’t you the one who came up with this idea to give Dad a surprise party?” 

_Yes, I was. I did it to preserve the plan. Hells bells! Doesn’t he have a wedding to go to?_

**_“Aren’t you supposed to be going to a wedding yes?”_**

“Not yet. The bus is coming to collect us in half an hour. I’ll just put you on speaker so we can talk while I get dressed,” said Benedict as he hit the button to enable the speaker and raised the volume. 

_I love the speaker function on mobiles! What a genius invention!_

_I curse the day they put speaker functions on mobiles._

“There. Can you hear me, Mum?” 

**_“Perfectly.”_**

“Brilliant. I can hear you, too,” confirmed Benedict as he retrieved his suit and shirt from the wardrobe. “As you were then.” 

_Shit. He’s waiting for me to answer him. Why did I answer the phone in the first place?_

**_“Of course the party was my idea; and at the time, I thought it was a fine one. However, the more I think about it, I’m not so sure. He may not be thrilled with being surprised.”_**

“Everyone loves a nice surprise like that.” ** _  
_**

**_“Again, there’s the expense, Ben. I hadn’t realized just how much one of these dos can cost.”_**

“No worries, Mum. I already discussed it with Tracy while I was on the train; and she and Derrick insist on contributing. It will only cost you a third of whatever the bill comes out to be. Have it where ever you fancy…” _  
_

_Good then!_

“…as long as it’s not at the bloody Chinese buffet! Tracy agreed that it needs to be held at a proper venue.” _  
_

_Damn those two! I rather liked the idea of the buffet. The food happens to be delicious and plentiful. It is always fresh and hot. Most importantly – if I have it there, I could still surprise Tim with that weekend in Paris. I need to go over the figures once we’ve got the whole thing booked. Maybe there will be enough money left over.  
_

“How was the food at the Roof Gardens?” 

**_“Delicious. I understand they just recently changed chefs. Donna really should go there and do a review of it. You know, Ben, I was thinking it would be such a lovely venue for a wedding. And speaking of Donna, you should take her there for lunch or dinner so she can see what a romantic setting it is.”_**

“Erm…let’s see if I’m still in a relationship after this weekend is over.” 

**_“Oh, Benedict, of course you’ll be! We will just have to find a way to work things out between us and her parents. I’m sure we’ll get along with them just swimmingly. We may have had our differences in the past, but we’ll sort it out to everyone’s satisfaction in the end and be able to move on to happier times, I’m sure.”_**

_OH, that is such a crock of crap you just fed me, Mum! Dad must have walked in. Hahahah!_

Benedict snickered. “I take it Dad just came in yes?” 

**_“You got that right.”_**

“I didn’t think those were your words.” 

**_“No. They’re not,”_** **spat Wanda. _“Hold on.”_**

Benedict heard his mother address his father. It sounded as if Timothy had just come in from an afternoon outing at the Garick Club with his friends. 

**_“Tim, it’s awfully hot in here; so I’m going out onto the balcony. Would you be a love and make us a cold drink? I’d really fancy a Sloe Gin Fizz,”_** **said Wanda as she took the cordless receiver and quickly moved towards the balcony.**

**_“That’s a brilliant idea! Let me put on my mixologist’s hat, and I’ll meet you outside in a tic,”_** **came Timothy’s jolly response.**

“I don’t recall ever having one of those. What’s in a Sloe Gin Fizz?” asked Benedict. 

**_“Sloe gin, regular gin, lemon juice, simple syrup and you top it up with club soda,”_** **rattled off Wanda _ **.** “It’s sweet, tart and fizzy. Perfect for a warm summer day, whilst it's still summer anyway. _****_I understand this delightful warm spell is about to end."_**

“I’ll order one tonight if they have an open bar at the wedding.” 

**_“And sending your father to the kitchen to mix up drinks buys me some time to chat about them. Okay. We’re out on the balcony now,”_** **said Wanda with a sigh of relief.**

Benedict laughed. “That line you gave me about us all getting along really sounded rehearsed and contrived as shit, Mum.” 

**_“That’s because it was. Your father has been lecturing me non-stop about how we have to make this meeting work on Sunday at all costs.”_**

“You didn’t sound the least bit sincere to me,” snickered Benedict as he slipped on his shoes and began to tie them. 

**_“That’s because I’m not.”_**

“I’m sure Dad also heard just how insincere and phony that sounded. I’m sorry it has to be this way, Mum. Really I am.” 

**_“If you were a good son, you’d cancel and tell them I’ve taken ill.”_**

“I’ll do nothing of the kind, _Mother_ ,” snarled Benedict. 

**_“You’re raising your voice, Benedict; and I don’t appreciate that nasty tone you’re using.”  
_ **

“Forgive me. The anticipation has all of us on edge.” 

**_“You’re telling me. I’ve managed to come up with seven different scenarios as to how this meeting is going to play out – none of them positive.”_**

“Look. We already discussed this several times. I know this sounds like Dad, but he’s right. It’s time to put the past behind us and move forward. I love Donna and plan on asking her to marry me …” 

_He’s going to propose???? Finally!!! Hallelujah!!!_

**_“When?”_** **asked Wanda excitedly, as she dropped the phone.**

_Sounds like Mum just dropped the phone._

“Mum?” 

**_“I’m here. I just dropped the receiver. You caught me by surprise. When did you say you plan to propose?”_**

“I didn’t,” laughed Benedict. “I plan to do it in November. Donna’s birthday is in November…near the end of the month. I thought that would be a good time. We will have been dating for ten months by then. I’ve already been giving thought as to what kind of ring to present her with.” 

_I need to tell Tim about this before he goes out and buys a ring.  
_

**_“Your father and I would love to help you select a ring, Ben. It can be tricky buying diamonds.”_**

“Tricky and expensive from what I’ve seen. I’ve been browsing the internet, and diamonds are very costly. I don’t think I can afford a very large one. Anyway, it may be a moot point after this weekend,” Benedict sighed. 

**_“I promise that I won’t say anything unless that wanker father of hers starts.”_**

“You will say nothing about the reviews, that blog or your letter, Mother.” 

**_“Benedict Timothy Carlton Cumberbatch! You mean to suggest that I…”_**

**_“I should have known there was an ulterior motive to you’re suddenly wanting to have drinks out on the balcony. You will say nothing of consequence, Wanda. You will not goad them into anything, nor will you insult them. You will act the lady that you are and do your son and me proud,”_ boomed Timothy’s voice in the background.**

**_“Hells bells! I didn’t intend for you to hear that.”_**

**_“Too bad for you that these drinks are quick to mix up. Now, what is this all about? Put Benedict on speaker so I can hear, too.”_**

“There’s been a slight change in plans. They’ll be another person joining us.” 

**_“Who?”_** **Wanda and Timothy asked at the same time.**

“Donna’s granddad.” 

**_“Which side of the family?”_** **inquired Timothy.**

“The father’s.” 

There was silence. 

“Mum? Dad? Are you there?” ** _  
_**

**_“Yes,”_** **said Wanda curtly.**

**_“We can’t hold the father responsible for the sins of the son,”_** **commented Timothy.**

**_“Oh, for fucks sake, Tim! Bugger off!”_** **snapped Wanda**. **_“I bet he’s just as snarky as the son.”_**

**_“Not necessarily,”_** **argued Timothy.** **_“I’m nothing like my father.”_**

“You may be interested in knowing that Donna’s granddad is a fan of yours, Mum.” 

There was silence. 

“Mum?” 

**_“She’s just gone back inside the flat to check her supply of head shots, should she need to autograph one for him,”_** **said Timothy in a teasing tone of voice.**

**_“I most certainly did not! I’m right here, Ben.”_**

**_“I take it you invited him to join us,”_** **mused Timothy.**

“Of course I did,” confirmed Benedict. “It seemed the proper thing to do yes?” 

**_“Absolutely,”_** **agreed Timothy _. “Not only will we have a referee on hand but it will also give your mother an opportunity to interact with one of her fans. You know, Pet, you may want to practice signing your autograph. Yowwwww!”_**

“Dad? What’s wrong? Are you okay?” 

**_“Your mother’s decided she wants to have a pillow fight with the chair seat cushion and knocked over my drink.  She didn't want to let on just how excited she is about the prospect of a fan meet and greet.”_**

**_“Let us know what happens tomorrow night,”_** **said Wanda _ **.** “I’ve got to fetch a towel to sop up this mess.”_**

“I will. Enjoy the pillow fight,” laughed Benedict. “Love you both. Cheers!” 

 

**********************************************

  

Donna Saint James logged off of her laptop and went about the business of baking cookies. Once that was done, she took a long lavender-scented, bubble bath and was about to begin making preparations for dinner when there was a knock at her door. 

_I wonder who that could be? It’s a little too soon to be Mom and Dad. Besides, I’m sure Carly gave them her extra key so they could come and go as they please. It has to be someone in the building. I bet its Andrew._

Donna looked through the peephole to see Andrew Scott’s expressive chocolate brown eyes looking back at her. She immediately opened the door and stood aside so he could enter. 

“Hi Stranger! Come on in!” 

“Hello Darlin’,” said Andrew, kissing her on both cheeks. “Am I bothering you?” 

“You never bother me.” 

Andrew sniffed at the air. “I smell cinnamon. Did I happen to catch you in the middle of baking?” 

“I’ve already finished. I made some cinnamon sugar cookies. Benedict’s cookie jar needed refilling. I was just about to start peeling potatoes for dinner.” 

“My timing stinks,” he laughed. “Here I was hoping to have a proper catchup and maybe nick some biscuits with a cuppa. I’ll let you get back to your dinner prep then.” 

“Tell you what. How about keeping me company while I start dinner, and I’ll share some cookies with you?” 

Andrew followed Donna into the kitchen area and took a seat at the breakfast bar. “I’m always ready to sample your delectable homemade biscuits.” 

“Tea or coffee?” 

“Coffee, please,” answered Andrew quickly. 

“You know, my tea-brewing has improved significantly since Benedict’s given me some lessons.” 

_Oh, Darlin’ I’ve had your tea after Ben gave you lessons, and you still make rubbish tea_. 

“It’s just that I really fancy that Kona coffee you always have.” 

“Kona coffee it is!” 

Donna and Andrew stopped talking as the door to the apartment burst open to reveal Neil and Antonia Saint James. 

_What are they doing back here so soon????   I thought I had another hour or two at least!_

“Hi Muffin!” called out Toni with a huge smile. 

“Hi!” exclaimed Donna, as she went to greet her parents. “I thought you were having lunch with Uncle Rodney and Aunt Bea.” 

“We did,” replied Neil, as he and Donna exchanged hugs and kisses. “But Rod had a doctor’s appointment, so we decided to come right back and spend time with you.” 

Toni hugged Donna tightly. “We almost went to Harvey Nichols, but we really wanted to have some time alone with you.” 

_Oh boy. Alone time. That’s never good. She’s going to put me on the witness stand and grill me about Benedict. The only good thing is that she won’t do it in front of Andrew. She’ll just ask him questions about Benedict because she knows they’re friendly._

_Ooooo. The parents. Time for me to get the hell out of here_ , thought Andrew. 

“Well then, that’s my cue to take my leave,” declared Andrew in a cheery voice as he hopped off the high chair and made his way towards the exit. 

_Andrew thinks he’s leaving. Hahahah!_ Thought Donna with amusement. _He’ll never get past that door until they are done with him._

“Andrew!” exclaimed Toni. “I’d recognize your smiling face anywhere.” 

“It’s good to finally see you in the flesh,” smiled Neil. “Toni and I were only saying to our daughter, Carly, this morning that we were looking forward to finally meeting you in person.” 

“Hello, hello!” said Andrew offering his hand to both Toni and Neil. “It’s lovely to finally meet you two as well. I feel as if I know you.” 

“How handsome you are in person!” gushed Toni, shaking Andrew’s hand. 

_And the flattering of Andrew begins,_ thought Donna. _He really thinks he’s going to leave now._

Andrew turned beet red, as he let go of Toni’s hand and shook Neil’s in turn. 

“Oh, well,  I must...well ...thank you, Mrs. Saint James,” he stammered. “It’s nice to hear even if it isn’t true.” 

“Of course it’s true or I never would have said it in the first place,” laughed Toni. 

_She’s right. She wouldn’t. That’s not Mom’s style to offer false compliments. Heck, she still refers to Benedict as ‘that homely Englishman you’ve taken up with’,_ thought Donna miserably. _I’m really going to have to make this up to Andrew. I’ll bake him a batch of cookies Monday.  
_

“Please call us Toni and Neil,” said Neil, shaking Andrew’s hand with gusto. 

_Holy shit! He’s got some grip! I think he may have broken my fucking hand,_ thought Andrew with horror. _That hurts like a right bastard!_

“I’ve enjoyed our Skype chats very much,” declared Toni. “Some people just seem to prattle on and on when they’re using Skype, because it’s free; but not you.” 

Neil chuckled. “It’s obvious to me that you understand it’s often better to use an economy of words rather than try to impress people with an extensive, over-inflated vocabulary.” 

_I love how Dad just felt he had to give me that meaningful look. I get it, Dad. You think Benedict talks too much and uses big words all the time when he doesn’t have to.  
_

_Her father’s intimating that Ben’s too wordy_ , thought Andrew. _I really need to find a way to make my excuses and get out of here.  
_

“I think it’s admirable that Benedict has a very extensive vocabulary and isn’t afraid to use it,” snapped Donna. 

“If you say so,” replied Neil. “I call it being a show off.” 

“I think it’s quite commendable to try and stretch one’s vocabulary,” commented Andrew quietly. 

“There’s stretching it and then there’s stretching it to the point where no one knows what in the hell you’re talking about,” quipped Neil. 

Andrew looked uncomfortable. “I always make it a point to try and keep mine to words the general populace will understand,” he offered. 

“And that’s as it should be,” affirmed Neil, nodding his head. 

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather be alone, so you can have a proper visit with your daughter?” asked Andrew. “You don’t need me hanging about.” 

“No,” replied Toni and Neil together. 

“Did you have a pleasant trip then?” asked Andrew. 

_I need to get out of here. I need to get out fast. The window is actually starting to look like a possibility though its a long and fatal way to have to escape.  
_

“Yes. Whenever we get in earlier than scheduled it’s pleasant,” laughed Toni. 

“Did you find the bagels, Muffin?” asked Neil, changing the subject. “We got your favorites: cinnamon raisin, onion, sesame seed and everything.” 

“Um…no,” replied Donna. “I was going to ask you about that. Carly said you had brought some on the plane.” 

“That’s because I wrapped them up and put them in the freezer for you, so they wouldn’t get stale,” explained Toni. “I used waxed paper and put them in a Ziploc bag.” 

“They wouldn’t have gotten stale that fast, Mom. I would have enjoyed one while the onion bits still had their crunch.” 

“Just pop it in the toaster oven, and it will crisp right up,” said Toni. “You do have a toaster oven here?” 

“No. Just a standard toaster. I’m glad you got the everything ones – those are Benedict’s favorites.” 

“I don’t give a fig if Benedict likes them or not. We didn’t buy them for him,” retorted Neil. “We bought them for you.” 

“Well then,” began Andrew with a half-smile. “I’ll just pop off and catch you another time, Donna.” 

“Oh, please don’t feel as if you have to leave on our account,” protested Toni. 

_Oh, yes I do; and I need to leave right now before they have a domestic_ , thought Andrew. 

“Did we interrupt something?” asked Neil with concern, looking from Andrew to Donna. “I suddenly have a feeling that we definitely interrupted something.” 

“Oh, no,” answered Andrew too quickly. “I hadn’t seen Donna in a few days; so we were just going to have a catch up over a cuppa. I’ll just…” 

“Sit right back down,” said Toni, taking Andrew by the arm and leading him back towards the breakfast bar. “There’s no reason for you to leave.” 

_Oh, fuck. There’s every reason why I should leave,_ thought Andrew. 

_He’s trapped like a rat aboard a sinking ship,_ thought Donna. _There will be no leaving this apartment now._

“Aren’t you going to offer your neighbor some coffee, Donna?” asked Toni pleasantly. “Let me help you,” she added walking into the kitchen and pulling out the mugs and plates from the glass-fronted cabinet. 

“I was just going to serve Andrew some coffee and cookies at the breakfast bar while I peel some potatoes for dinner,” said Donna. 

“What’s on the menu?” asked Neil. 

“Pork tenderloins that were marinated in ginger ale, mustard and honey.” 

Toni frowned. “You marinated your meat in soda?” 

Donna nodded. “It’s Benedict’s mother’s recipe, and it’s delicious.” 

Neil and Toni exchanged looks. 

“I’m also making mashed potatoes and roasted Brussels sprouts with toasted hazelnuts and candied bacon.” 

“I think you should serve your guest in the dining room,” suggested Toni, as she began to open the cabinets as if searching for something. “Why don’t you set the table, Donna; and I’ll make the coffee. Where do you keep the coffee again?” 

“In the first cabinet, Mom. By the way, where’s Grandpa?” 

“He went for a walk along the Thames with Carly and Steven. They should be back fairly soon.” 

Neil addressed Andrew. “You happened to be one of the topics of conversation over lunch today.” 

_And I bet I know who the other one was_ , thought Donna as she reluctantly set the table for three. _I guess I’ll peel the potatoes at the counter while they visit._

Donna noticed that Andrew looked surprised, then rattled. 

“Was I?” he asked in a higher-pitched voice than normal. 

“Yes, you were,” confirmed Neil. “I’m sure you know who Rodney Renfield is.” 

_Unfortunately, yes, I do; and I bet you don’t know that I went to the actors’ retirement do for him and even contributed a tenner._

“Well, yeah. Which actor in London doesn’t?” laughed Andrew nervously. “He was with the London Times for years. Everyone I know seems to have been reviewed by Rodney Renfield at one time or another.” 

_And few of them have anything particularly flattering to say about the prick either. Now_ , _what in the fuck did he say about me?  
_

“Rodney and I are very old friends, as well as colleagues. He was telling Toni and me that he had recently seen your one-man performance in _Sea Wall_.” 

_Shit. The fucker went to see me. No one recognized him in the audience or they would have surely told me he was there. I wonder how badly he ripped into me. This is what I deserve for not reading my own reviews and letting my agent just sum them up._

“I hope I didn’t disappoint him too badly…” began Andrew, feeling sick to his stomach with dread. 

“Au contraire! He said you were – and I’ll quote him: Andrew Scott’s performance was absolutely brilliant and worthy of an Olivier nomination.” 

“His wife said you made her cry at the end,” chimed in Toni. “Both Rod and Bea raved about your performance!” 

“Andrew was spectacular in it!” agreed Donna. “Benedict and I went to see it as soon as it opened with Carly and Steven. We cried like babies at the ending, too. It was so emotional.” 

“A good actor is one who can make you laugh or cry,” observed Toni. 

“It’s a pity the show has already closed, I would have enjoyed seeing it for myself,” lamented Neil. 

“It was taped, and I have a copy that I would be happy to lend you,” offered Andrew eagerly. “Let me go across the hall and get it for you!” 

“Oh! I have an idea!” exclaimed Toni. “Why not join us for dinner and then we can all watch it afterwards while we have coffee and dessert,” she suggested. 

_Yes, Mom! Now that is a very good idea!_ Thought Donna. _It will postpone the grilling until tomorrow._

“Bring Stephen back with you, Andrew,” offered Donna. “I’ve got plenty of food.” 

“Who’s Stephen?” inquired Toni with a raised eyebrow. 

“My partner,” replied Andrew. “Let me go and ask him, and we’ll be back in a few minutes.” 

_Take your time, Andrew. I’ve got a bone to pick with my father first._

As soon as Andrew was gone, Donna confronted a surprised Neil while Toni brewed the coffee. 

“That wasn’t nice to make those comments about Benedict’s vocabulary – especially in front of Andrew, Dad,” she began. “He happens to be very intelligent and…” 

“That remains to be seen. From what I’ve heard on Skype, I certainly wouldn’t nominate him for Mensa,” quipped Neil with a dismissive wave of his hand. “You’re certainly a lot smarter than he is, and I’m not saying that just because you’re my daughter.” 

“You always had excellent grades in school,” agreed Toni. “You were on the Honor Roll every semester from Middle School right through College.” 

“May I remind you both that Benedict went to Harrow.” 

“Just because he went to Harrow doesn’t automatically make him a genius,” laughed Neil. “It just means his family was able to come up with the funds to send him.” 

“Which they did,” reported Toni. “His paternal grandmother, Pauline Cumberbatch, contributed a decent amount of money towards his tuition with his parents making up the rest. Your boyfriend also received an art scholarship so the tuition was reduced.” 

“I beg to differ, Mom. Harrow has stringent standards for admission.” 

“If he was such hot stuff, then perhaps you can tell us why he didn’t go to Oxford or Cambridge,” challenged Neil with a gleam in his eye.

_Fuck a duck.  They know something that I don't.  Shit.  I really hate these games of theirs.  As much as I may miss New York, I didn't miss this verbal dueling._

“His grades fell dramatically when he was in his last year,” elaborated Toni before Donna could open her mouth. “Apparently, he wasn’t working as hard as he should have been, which is why he didn’t get into one of the better Universities such as Oxford or Cambridge.” 

_Looks like Mom knows someone who could get her copies of Ben’s Harrow transcripts and records._

“Benedict told me he didn’t want to go to another Ivy League school and – I’m quoting him now: swan around with a cashmere sweater tied around my neck and have everyone think me a lovey.” 

“Jesus! Does Cumberbatch really talk like that? I’m going to have a hard time getting through dinner if he does,” guffawed Neil. 

Donna ignored the barbed comment and continued. “Benedict said he wanted to meet people from different social backgrounds and try new experiences…” 

“Like pot,” said Toni in an off-handed manner. 

Donna noticed Neil was watching her like a hawk. 

“What are you talking about, Mom? Benedict would never smoke pot! Not in a million years.” 

“Well, your boyfriend tells a different tale in one of the interviews he gave a little while back,” countered Toni. “I can show it to you if you don’t believe me.” 

“He must have been joking with the journalist,” insisted Donna. “Benedict is not like that. Believe me, if I had any idea he so much as touched that stuff, I’d never had gone out with him in the first place.” 

Toni and Neil exchanged looks and shrugged. “I think you owe it to yourself to ask him, Muffin,” said Toni gently. 

_Jesus. Please let that not be true. I need to look at that interview for myself, but Mom and Dad would have no reason to lie to me. Except for the fact that they don’t like Benedict and are making no bones about it._

“The bottom line is Cumberbatch wasn’t good enough to get into a decent college,” said Neil matter-of-factly. 

“Manchester University has an excellent reputation, Dad. I did some of my own investigating,” retorted Donna. 

“Maybe so, but it’s no Oxford or Cambridge,” declared Toni. 

“Both of which look a whole hell of a lot better on a resume,” added Neil. 

“If he were going to be a doctor or a lawyer, I’d buy that,” said Donna. “An actor doesn’t need to go to an Ivy League school.” 

Neil and Toni once again exchanged glances. Toni shrugged. 

“Donna does have a point, Neil. Oxford or Cambridge would be wasted on an actor, don’t you agree?” 

Donna rolled her eyes. _Of course he does. He agrees with almost everything you say, Mom. I can count the number of times you two have had differing opinions.  
_

“Danny didn’t even finish college!” Donna reminded them. “And you never had any problems with that.” 

“And look at him now,” said Neil fondly. “Vice President of Live Entertainment at Walt Disney World, and he never did anything to be ashamed of.” 

“Benedict’s done nothing to be ashamed of!” insisted Donna vehemently. 

“Give him time,” smirked Neil. “I have the utmost confidence in him.” 

“Well, he did run off that time when he lost his voice,” said Toni. “That’s something to be ashamed of I would think.” 

“Hmmm…Mom’s right. That was like leaving the scene of a crime,” said Neil. “Though to be fair, the audience was spared from seeing anymore of him.” 

“Speaking of colleges, may I take a minute to remind you that Roy went to Harvard,” chimed in Toni. “Graduated Magna Cum Laude.” _  
_

_I need to change the subject. They are really warming to the Ben-bashing._

Toni helped herself to one of the cookies and took a small bite. 

“These are delicious, Muffin. By the way, Rodney was telling us that Andrew’s going to be in a play called _Cock_ in November. I wish we could be here to see it.” 

_Uncle Rodney certainly talked up Andrew today. You would think I was dating him. Good gravy._

“Benedict’s auditioning for a play called _After the Dance_ ,” said Donna proudly. 

“Yes, Rod told me there are rumors going around that Cumberbatch is hungry to play the lead,” commented Neil as he helped himself to one of the cookies. 

“His name is Benedict, Dad.” 

“His name is also Cumberbatch.” 

“Jesus,” muttered Donna under her breath. 

“A hungry actor is not necessarily a good one, Muffin,” Said Neil. 

“Rod said he expects big things from Andrew. He said he’s a fine actor,” added Toni, as she adjusted the napkins on the table. 

_Why is Mom fixing the napkins? Oh, she doesn’t like the way I folded them._

“What exactly does Uncle Rodney say about Benedict? It’s pretty obvious that you discussed him.” 

“Haven’t you ever discussed him with Rodney?” asked Neil incredulously. “I know you and Carly have gotten together a few times with Rod and Bea since you’ve been in London. Surely, Cumberbatch would have come up in the conversation.” 

“Uncle Rodney has talked about other actors, but never Benedict. He and Aunt Bea know we’re in a relationship though…” Donna let her voice trail off. 

Neither Toni nor Neil said a word. Toni busied herself with rearranging the napkins and Neil began to fill a plate with the Campache cookies from the cooling rack. 

_I’m so dumb. It’s just now dawning on me why Uncle Rodney never really talks about Benedict except to inquire as to his health. He obviously doesn’t like him and doesn’t want to hurt my feelings by telling me so. He’s never suggested getting together with Benedict and me._

“Uncle Rodney doesn’t care much for Benedict, does he?” 

“Actually, he praised his work,” replied Toni. “Didn’t he, Neil?” 

Neil nodded affirmatively. “He said he was brilliant in _Hawking_ as well as _Hedda Gabler_ and that he’s never really seen him turn in a poor performance. I, on the other hand, have only seen him give those lack luster performances from that memorable summer back in 2002.”

"Well, maybe you need to see some more of his work, Dad!" exclaimed Donna. 

"Actually..." began Neil, but before he could finish his sentence, his wife smoothly interrupted him. 

“Benedict was rumored to be having an affair with his co-star during _Hedda Gabler_ when he was supposedly in a relationship with another woman,” said Toni. “Can you shed any light on that, Donna?  This is something that is of concern to us.” 

_Uncle Rodney loves to dish the dirt, bless his little heart.  
_

“As far as I know, those were only rumors,” said Donna dismissively. 

“Let’s hope so,” sighed Toni. “I would hate to see you involved with a man who cheats.” 

_They know about Olivia. Ben swore up and down that those were rumors. I do recall that Alice Ackland was on the fence about it. She kind of hinted that it may have been true, but the only two people who really know for sure are Benedict and his co-star. As long as he doesn’t cheat on me, I don’t care what he did in the past. If he did, he must have had a valid reason. Mom must have had a blast digging up dirt on Benedict._

“Getting back to Benedict’s acting, Uncle Rodney is never wrong. See, I told you Benedict was a fine actor.” 

“He doesn’t care much for him as a person though,” added Neil. 

“He said Benedict was a pompous and arrogant ass,” declared Toni. _  
_

“His actual words were: Cumberbatch is the epitome of an arrogant and pompous posh arsehole,” laughed Neil. “All you have to do is read or watch one of his interviews, and you can see that for yourself.” 

“Benedict is not an arrogant asshole!” insisted Donna, voice dripping with anger. 

“You only say that because you’re in love with him,” snapped Neil. “Why? I have no idea, which is why your mother and I are here. We want to see first-hand what is so special about him. We want to be proven wrong.” 

“Love is often blind, Muffin,” said Toni gently. “You only see the good things in him. We see other things; and believe me, we want to see the good as well.” 

“Oh, somehow I doubt that!” said Donna with a smirk. “You have wanted to hate him ever since that first Skype call!” 

The door opened and in walked Andrew and Stephen with the DVD of _Seawall._ Once they were settled, Andrew went into the kitchen and got Donna alone for a minute. 

“Did we come back at a bad time, Darlin’? The tension was so thick, I thought for certain we had interrupted a domestic.” 

“Every time is a bad time as long as they’re here, Andrew,” laughed Donna bitterly. “I’m actually so glad you guys came in when you did. They really are set to prove to me that Benedict is not worthy of my love.” 

Andrew patted her arm. “They are only here for a week, Darlin’. You can get through it. You and Benedict are forever yes?” 

“I sure as hell hope so,” smiled Donna. “Let’s go rescue Stephen. They’ve already begun to grill him.” 

_Well,_ t _he Neil and Toni Show is in full swing, and poor Benedict will be this week’s guest star. God help him, he’s going to need it,_ thought Andrew Scott as he took a seat beside his partner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Mensa is the largest and oldest high IQ society in the world.
> 
> 2\. A big congratulations to Benedict on his successful Hamlet previews. If anyone has seen it, I'd love to hear from you.


	97. Chapter 97

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part One of the Saint James Family Dinner: Benedict keeps Donna posted on the happenings at the Birkin-Fornieles wedding, while Neil and Toni dish out a large helping of aggravation for all.
> 
> Note: If you are a fan of David Birkin or Eloise Fornieles, I suggest you skip this chapter; as I will be poking a lot of fun at it.

 

The Saint James and Cipriano families sat in the living room area of Donna’s apartment chatting over goblets of chilled white wine and hors-d'oeuvres while she finished grilling the pork tenderloins for their dinner. 

“What a shame Andrew and his partner had to leave so suddenly,” lamented Donna’s mother. “Just when we were having such a nice chat.” 

_It wasn’t that sudden, Mom. I’m willing to bet that was carefully planned before they returned,_ thought Donna with amusement. _Andrew’s no fool , and either is Stephen._

“I’ve never seen a migraine come on with such speed,” quipped Steven as he sipped his wine. “Usually, there are warning signs.” 

Donna turned over the meat and tried to suppress a giggle. _Steve knows Stephen was faking it._

“He should have let you examine him, Steve,” continued Toni with concern. 

“There was no reason to examine him, Mom,” said Steven gently and patiently. He leaned forward and pondered the various bruschetta Donna had set out for them to snack on. 

_Andrew’s partner just needed to get as far away from you two as possible_ , he thought. _I wish I could get away with the old migraine excuse. I should have told them I suffered from them years ago. Perhaps I could develop them in the future.  
_

“Perhaps you could have recommended a more effective treatment,” persisted Toni. 

_The only treatment that man needed was to get the hell out of here,_ thought Steven as he finally decided to try the chopped fresh tomatoes and black olives on a bed of pesto spread. 

“He knows what the treatment is: take his medication and lie down in a darkened, quiet room.” 

“I’m going to give Donna a hand,” announced Carly as she got up and wandered into the kitchen area. 

“I’m thinking the key to the successful treatment of Stephen’s migraine was to get away from the Neil and Toni Show as soon as possible,” she said to Donna under her breath. 

“There was nothing to treat,” whispered Donna with a smirk. “Stephen doesn’t suffer from migraines. He’s just a good actor.” 

“I’m surprised Mom didn’t try harder to talk Andrew into coming back alone.” 

“I think she got the message once Andrew became firm with her about staying at home in case Stephen needed him.” 

“What can I do to help, Donna?” 

“Could you hand me that white platter, so I can plate these things.” 

“Well, at least we got to watch _Seawall_ before they had to leave,” said Neil from the couch. “I have to say Andrew’s acting was very convincing. The man seems to exhibit _some_ talent.” He popped a bacon-wrapped date into his mouth. 

“Jeez! Did you hear how Daddy said Andrew had ‘some’ talent?” whispered Carly. 

“I sure did. No actor is perfect in the eyes of Neil Saint James,” remarked Donna as she placed the pork on the platter and allowed them to rest. “Andrew gave a stellar performance. I was as moved watching that DVD as I was watching him in person. I suppose the critic in Dad has to find something to criticize - and he likes Andrew.” 

“Could you imagine what Dad would say if he didn’t like him?” giggled Carly. 

“I don’t have to imagine what Dad would say, Curly Carly. He doesn’t like Benedict, so I’ve already heard plenty since he got here.” 

“I thought Andrew was brilliant!” piped up Colin Saint James from Donna’s white chaise lounge. “It takes a lot to tug my heart strings, but that young man managed to do it.” 

_Grandpa should only know what Benedict and I have done on that chaise lounge,_ Donna thought with amusement. _That’s our favorite make out spot._

“It was a spellbinding performance, and I caught myself tearing up at the end,” remarked Steven. 

“I think he’s going to make a very interesting Moriarty in _Sherlock_ ,” commented Toni as she nibbled on some chili-spiced cashews. 

Donna dropped the tongs she was holding onto the counter with a loud clatter. All eyes turned towards her. 

“Oh, don’t mind me – old butterfingers,” laughed Donna. “Why don’t you all take your seats as we are just about ready to eat. Ha-ha – that rhymed.” _  
_

_Who in the fuck told her that? That’s top secret information! It had to have been either Andrew or Benedict._

“I thought no one was supposed to know that,” whispered Carly. “Why did you tell her?” 

“I didn’t!” hissed Donna. “She’s never been alone with Benedict on Skype long enough for him to have a slip of the tongue, and she’s never been alone with Andrew.” 

“I thought Ben and Andrew had to sign an NDA.” 

“They did,” affirmed Donna, as she sliced the pork. “Somehow Mom found out, and I can only think of one other person who might have access to that kind of information and his first name is Rodney. Can you please put the pork on the table while I start to bring in the side dishes?” 

Donna pulled on her cow head oven mitts and removed the oven-proof bowl of mashed potatoes from the oven. She paused to drizzle some melted butter over them and brought them to the table. 

_These look and smell so good if I must say so myself. Benedict loves my mashed potatoes. He said they were better than Wanda’s._

“How did you know that, Mom?” asked Donna nonchalantly. 

“Know what, Muffin?” 

“About Andrew playing the role of James Moriarty in _Sherlock_? That hasn’t been publicized. It’s supposed to be a surprise at the end of the season.” 

“Not any more it isn’t,” laughed Neil as he held out the chair for his wife. 

Toni sat, looked up at Neil and tried to suppress a laugh. “I have my sources.” 

“Benedict and Andrew can both get in a lot of trouble if word gets out!” 

“Rod heard from one of his contacts in the industry that Andrew’s been cast as James Moriarty. It obviously didn’t come from Cumberbatches’ or Andrew’s camp, so they’re in the clear. So, now you can cease with the worrying! None of us would ever say a word, Donna. Heaven forbid word gets out and Cumberbatch loses the role because of it,” Neil said in earnest. 

“Or Andrew for that matter!” added Toni, as she checked the salad to see if it had been dressed prior to serving. “I see you already dressed the salad.” She looked back towards the kitchen with a frown of clear disapproval. 

_Heaven forbid Mom should even try the salad first,_ thought Donna _. Carly and I don’t drown it in dressing to begin with._

“Here’s a plain one for you, Mom,” said Carly, placing a plate of undressed salad in front of Toni along with a small pitcher of dressing. 

_I just added the damn dressing before bringing it to the table!_ Thought Carly. _There’s no way it had time to get wilted. She can be such a pain in the ass._

“Thank you, Sweet Potato. I hate soggy salad,” declared Toni. 

“I know,” said Carly and Donna together. 

“It’s not easy to get acting jobs even for very talented actors, and I would hate to see you wind up having to support Cumberbatch, should word ever get out,” continued Neil as he passed the platter of pork to his wife. “If I recall during one of our Skype conversations, he was quite adamant about having no intentions of returning to being a waiter or Penhaligon’s in between jobs.” 

Donna set down the platter of Brussel sprouts with toasted hazelnuts and candied bacon with a bang, causing some of the nuts to bounce and roll off the platter onto the table. Once again, all eyes turned to her. 

“I don’t know if you realize this, Daddy, but Benedict hasn’t been out of work for long periods since he graduated LAMDA.” 

Toni cleared her throat as she dribbled a tiny bit of dressing onto her salad. 

_Hmmm…Mom seems to disagree. I wonder what dirt she dug up out of her garden of secrets._

“Actually, there was a period where Benedict was out of work for six months and worked at Penhaligon’s Perfume store in Piccadilly,” corrected Toni. “Then he worked for a caterer called the Chocolate Tart, owned by Lisa Clarke on and off for a couple of years – in between acting jobs.” 

_Mom’s certainly done her research, as if I had any doubt. She can probably tell me things about Benedict that I don’t even know._

“Acting isn’t the most stable profession,” observed Colin dryly. “It’s never a bad idea to have a backup plan in case things don’t work out in the long term.” 

_I know Grandpa means no malice. He’s just stating a fact…unlike my parents, who are enjoying their Bene-bashing-fest. Oh, what I would have given to be at that lunch with Uncle Rodney and Aunt Bea today._

“That’s true, Grandpa,” said Donna. “However, Benedict has been working steady ever since...he got that first break. He has quite a few projects lined up for the future.” 

Colin nodded understandingly as he passed the salad bowl to Steven, who looked as if he wanted to bolt from the apartment. 

Neil looked up from his plate. “Does he now? I’d love to hear about them?” 

“Does he have _signed_ contracts?” asked Toni, as she helped herself to some of the Brussels sprouts. “Having projects in the proverbial hopper is meaningless without signed contracts, Muffin. Actors always try and fill their plates with as many upcoming projects as possible; however, they can’t eat them – so to speak - until the contract is signed, sealed and delivered.” 

Donna felt both her parents’ eyes on her. Neil was wearing an expression of mild curiosity, while Toni’s was skeptic. Her grandfather was busy buttering one of Carly’s homemade Parker House rolls.   Carly rolled her eyes at Donna, and Steve got up to refill everyone’s wine glass. 

“Well, as far as I know, he has _Sherlock_ for sure…and an indy movie called _Wreckers_ is set to begin filming next week…and then he has a made-for-TV movie called _Van Gogh: Painted with Words_ near the end of the year. He just had a costume fitting for that, so that has to mean the contract is in place.” 

“Indy movies pay crap,” declared Toni with a toss of her head. “I go over those types of contracts every day.” 

“This pork is brilliant, Love,” exclaimed Colin with a wink at Donna. “So flavourful.” 

_Awww…Grandpa’s trying to change the subject, bless his little heart._

“She marinated it in soda,” sighed Toni. “I take it this wasn’t diet soda either.” 

“No, Mom. It’s regular, chock full of sugar soda,” confirmed Donna with a smirk. 

_This dinner has just begun and already I find it getting harder and harder to muster what little is left of my small amount of patience._

“I think it’s very tasty,” said Neil. “Do you have any extra sauce?” 

“Damn! I forgot to get it,” said Donna, jumping up. “I’ll be right back.” 

“We also need a refill on the rolls,” said Colin. “These are just delicious, Donna. Did you bake them?” 

“I baked them, Grandpa,” replied Carly proudly. 

“They are every bit as good as your grandmother’s were,” Colin added wistfully. 

_Ah, he still misses Granny,_ thought Carly. _Even though he’s been dating Mrs. Baum all this time, Granny is still number one in his heart._

“Thank you, Grandpa. I’ll get some more,” she offered, getting up and padding after Donna with the empty basket. 

As Donna approached the kitchen, her land line began to ring. The caller ID showed it was “Benedict”. 

_Ah, it’s Benedict! I really miss him. I need to hear his gorgeous, sexy voice._

She hit the speaker phone as she got a small saucepan and poured the leftover marinade into it. 

“Hi, Ben!” 

**_“Hellooooo there!”_** boomed Benedict’s deep, sexy voice from the speaker. 

Everyone at the table turned to stare. 

_Holy shit! Who put the volume up that high,_ thought Donna as Benedict’s voice filled the room. _Oh. I know. Benedict did that the night we were talking to his Aunt Amber in Italy while we were making dinner together._

“Lower that please!” she hissed at Carly. “I can’t leave the stove while I’m reducing this down!” 

Donna looked up to see that everyone was still staring at her with marked curiosity. Carly quickly dialed down the volume so it wasn’t as loud. 

“Too late. They already heard it was him. They’ll now be hanging on every word.” 

**_“Donna?”_** Came Benedict’s voice. **_“Can you hear me?”_**

_Yes, Benedict. Everyone can hear you very clearly._

 “Is that Cumberbatch I hear?” asked Neil, straining to hear. 

“It certainly sounds like him,” quipped Toni. 

“Hi, Benedict,” said Donna. “The connection is fine.” 

_If I take him off speaker, they are going to think I have something to hide – even though I don’t. If I don’t take him off speaker, I’m in danger of his saying something dumb. I can’t win either way._

**_“Are you missing me as much as I’m missing you, Darling?”_**

“Like you don’t know.” 

“Just get rid of him quickly, and I’ll try and start up a conversation so they can’t eavesdrop,” whispered Carly as she returned to the dining room area. 

**_“Aren’t you having a nice meal with your family? I suppose they’re making a right meal of me by now,”_** he snickered. 

“Um…you’re on speaker,” warned Donna sharply, keeping an eye on the rapidly boiling sauce. “We can _all_ hear you perfectly.” 

“Benedict?” 

**_“Fuck.”  
_ **

_He’s got that right. We’re both fucked.  
_

**_“Fuck.”  
_ **

“You already said that.” 

**_“I know. Why in the hell didn’t you tell me I was put on speaker phone?”_**

“Tell Cumberbatch to feel free to speak freely, Muffin,” said Neil. “It’s just us.” 

_No, Daddy. That’s exactly what you and Mom want, and I don’t want!  
_

“So, did Donna tell you guys about our new venture?” Carly asked her parents and grandfather with a big smile. “We’re going to try our hands at catering for…” 

“Shush!” commanded Neil, with a wave of his hand. “Why did you have to lower the volume so much? I want to hear this.” He sprang to his feet, and to Donna's horror put the volume back up before once again taking his seat at the table.

 ** _“Oh, that’s quite alright, I suppose. I don’t terribly mind being on speaker phone now that I think about it,”_** Benedict laughed. 

_Oh, you are doing many things, Benedict, and thinking isn’t one of them. You should mind being on speaker phone. You need to hang up and get back to the party._

**_“Helloooo everybody! It’s just me… Benedict Cumberbatch in case Donna didn’t tell you who was speaking…ringing up to say….helloooo to my beautiful, sexy woman…who happens to be Donna!”_** Benedict’s voice trailed off in a fit of giggles as he addressed someone in the background. **_“Yeah, I’ll definitely have another one of these. Tell the barkeep light on the soda and not-so-light on the gin.”_** _  
_

_He doesn’t sound right. SHIT. He sounds tipsy! The reception must be in full swing by now, and my honey seems to be taking advantage of the free drinks. Oh, NO!  
_

**_“Oh, where in the hell was I? Oh, yes. Yeah. Erm…yeah. Helloooo to Donna’s family!”_** Benedict laughed uproariously. **_“Hellooo, helloooo.”_**

_If I had one of his owl socks, I’d stuff it right into his drunken mouth! Why, oh why do these things happen to me? I should have taken him off the speaker when I had the chance.  
_

“Hello, Benedict,” Donna’s family called out in unison. 

“Sounds like someone’s a bit off his face,” ventured Colin with a laugh. 

“Sounds like someone’s feeling no pain,” agreed Neil with a sardonic smile. 

“Sounds like he’s had one too many already,” added Toni. “Is Benedict fond of drinking… socially, Muffin?” 

“Oh, stop being so judgmental, Toni,” snapped Colin. “That’s what night dos are for! Having fun and getting pissed!” He turned in his chair in order to face the kitchen. “Hello, Benedict! Colin Saint James here. “I’m Neil’s pa. Are you having a good time then? You sound as if you are!" 

Benedict giggled. **_“Very much so, Sir…perhaps a bit too much. It’s lovely to speak with you – Hahaha! Normally, I would have said nice to meet you; but I’m not there. Obviously.”_**

The sauce had come to a rapid boil and quickly reduced to Donna’s satisfaction. She immediately poured it into a bowl. 

_He’s drunk alright, and isn’t making a whole hell of a lot of sense either. At least he seems to be happy and giddy when he’s drunk. Much better than being sassy and nasty._

“I take it the wedding’s over?” asked Donna as she brought the sauce to the table. 

“ ** _Yeah. It was over a few hours ago. We’ve just finished up dinner. Didn’t you get the photos I sent you? I made sure to include a little…erm…well, not –so-little, if you know what I mean…surprise!”_**

“What photos?” piped up Toni, curiosity peaked. 

Carly’s eyes sparkled and she clapped her hands together in impending delight. “The wedding photos! OH, I want to see these, Donna!” 

_Not until I see them first. Being he’s drunk who knows what he sent. It could be a photo of his penis for all I know._

“No, you don’t!” Hissed Donna, handing the sauce to her sister. “I need to scan them first to make sure they are safe for viewing.” 

“Is this the wedding in the coal mine?” Steven asked between forkfuls of pork roast. 

“Coal mine?” repeated Neil with a raised eyebrow. He gently touched his wife’s forearm with an index finger. 

“What kind of people get married in a coal mine?” asked Toni in disbelief. 

“Coal miners?” joked Colin. 

“It’s just a wedding,” said Donna offhandedly to her father. 

“Not in a coal mine it isn’t _just_ a wedding,” retorted Neil with amusement. 

“Your father’s right. We need to see these photos. Go get your cellphone, Muffin, so we can have a look,” said Toni. 

“For goodness sake, Mom! We have all night to look at pictures! Let’s eat while the food is still nice and hot,” retorted Donna. “I’m sure they aren’t that exciting.” 

“By the look on her face, your sister seems to think so,” countered Toni. 

**_“Donna? Oh where, oh where did you go to my Bella Donna?”_** came Benedict’s voice.  The deep rumble echoed in the room. **_“Did you get the bloody pictures or not?”_**

“No. I’ll have to check my cellphone when I have a minute. We’re in the middle of dinner, Benedict, so…” 

**_“I’ll wait. You made such a fuss about seeing them earlier.”_**

_I didn’t make a fuss. It was a request, Benedict. Now, my family must think I’m one of those bossy girlfriends._

**_“I want to make sure you’re receiving them is all. Oooooo here’s my delicious fizzy drinkie now.”_**

They could hear the sound of Benedict clearly smacking his lips. 

**_“Mmmmmm…that hits the spot. You would really fancy this drink, Darling. It’s nice and sweet…like you.”_**

Donna blushed. “Thank you, Ben Honey.” 

“Jesus,” muttered Neil under his breath. “She calls the jerk _Ben Honey_. I think I’m going to barf.” 

“He’s not a jerk, Daddy!” said Carly harshly. “Benedict is a wonderful man!” 

“That remains to be seen.” 

“You just need to meet under the right circumstances,” chimed in Steven. “I really like him, Dad. You need to give the man a chance.” 

“As I just said, it remains to be seen.” 

“Hush, Neil!” hissed Toni. “Granted the man doesn’t exactly put his best foot forward in the Skype calls…” 

“That’s because his foot is always in his mouth,” interrupted Neil. 

Toni made eyes at Neil and suppressed a laugh. 

**_“Do I hear your parents talking about me?”_** Asked Benedict with a trace of annoyance in his voice. **_“I could swear I heard your father say…”_**

“No, Benedict,” said Donna, glaring at her parents. “They were just talking amongst themselves.” 

**_“About me.”_** It was more a statement, than a question. 

“Not exactly…” 

**_“You know what? I don’t think I give two shits what they think about me!”  
_ **

“Oh, _please_ get your phone, Donna,” pleaded Carly. “I love to see what the bride and bridesmaids are wearing.” 

“Yes! That’s a good idea,” agreed Toni. 

“Okay,” said Donna reluctantly. She got to her feet and headed over to the desk. “I’m going to get it now, Ben.” 

**_“Have you ever had a Sloe Gin Fizz?”_**

“No.” 

**_“These are quite tasty. They go great with the teeny weeny marzipan fruits. MMMMM…”_** Again there was the sound of Benedict smacking his lips, followed by a loud burp. 

“Such class,” mumbled Neil. “Sounds like he failed the posh decorum course while he was at Harrow. Such a waste of his parents’ money.” 

“It was mostly his grandmother’s money – on his father’s side of the family,” corrected Toni. “He also got an art scholarship, which paid for some of it; and then his parents contributed the rest.” 

There came the sound of a long slurp, followed by another resounding burp over the speaker. 

Donna watched as her parents visibly cringed. 

_Jeez Louise! He’s never behaved like this in front of me before – then again, this is the first time I’ve ever experienced drunken Benedict._

**_“Oh, please pardon me, everyone. It’s the fizziness of the soda that’s causing me to belch.”_**

Donna picked up her phone and glanced at the incoming messages. There were several photos from Benedict. Unfortunately, her phone battery had run low and wouldn’t allow her to access them. 

_Damn. I really did want to see photos of that wedding! Now I’ll have to wait until the battery recharges._

“OH, damn!” exclaimed Donna disappointedly, as she placed her phone in the charger. “My battery is low. I can’t retrieve my messages yet.” 

**_“Not to worry, I can forward them to your email. I do have a smart phone you know.”_**

“Which I bet is a lot smarter than he is,” remarked Neil with a snide smile. 

**_“What did your father just say?”  
_ **

“Great. He said he’s looking forward to viewing the photos after dinner.” 

“I said nothing of the kind…” 

“Hush, Neil!” hissed Toni. “Let them finish their conversation.” 

**_“Hold on, Donna – wait. Yeah! I’m coming, Love. Be right with you. I’m just finishing up a conversation with my girlfriend.”_**

Donna felt a sudden pang of jealousy. 

_Who is he talking to and addressing as ‘Love’?_

**_“Okay then,”_** said Benedict distractedly ** _. “I have to go now. We’ll chat later then. Yeah! Be right there, Polly. Don’t get your knickers in a twist – that is if you’re wearing any to twist! Hahaha!”_**

“Who’s Polly?” 

Benedict still sounded distracted ** _. “Oh…erm…she’s just an old friend. Not that’s she’s actually old. She’s actually young. Youngish. I think she’s a bit younger than you are actually. Not that you’re old either. She and I are going to do some serious dancing now. Hold on, Donna.”_**

Donna heard him call out. **_“You certainly don’t look like you’re wearing any knickers under that to me!”  
_**

_He’s been checking out her ass all this time while he’s been talking to me._ **_  
_ **

**_“Okay, Donna. I’m back now. What was I saying?”_**

“You were trying to decide if Polly was wearing any panties under her dress,” snapped Donna. “And it sounds like you decided she wasn’t.” 

**_“Yeah. Her bum looks completely smooth. There are absolutely no knicker lines that I can detect.”_**

“Well done, _Sherlock_. That was one brilliant deduction you just made,” quipped Donna. 

There was silence. 

“Perhaps the writers can work in a scene where _Sherlock_ is forced into making a deduction in a lingerie store,” smirked Neil. “You know, I think I almost don’t mind him when he’s liquored up like this.” 

There was more silence. 

_Honey knows he’s done wrong. Now, he’s trying to figure out how to get back in my good graces. If he were here, I’d be getting the cute nose crinkle and lop-sided smile.  
_

The silence continued. 

“Where is he? Did he hang up?” asked Neil impatiently. 

“Maybe he’s passed out,” commented Colin. 

“If he did, its best to let him sleep it off,” said Steven. 

_I can see him standing there, rubbing the back of his neck. He doesn’t know how to get himself out of this pickle._ “Benedict? Are you there?” inquired Donna equally impatiently. 

**_“Erm…Polly was walking away from me, so I just happened to notice. It’s not like I was consciously looking at her bum, which for the record is nowhere near as lovely as yours. Your adorable bum is a different story. I’m always consciously looking at it as you bloody well know,”_** he said earnestly. ** _  
_**

_You don’t ‘look’, Benedict. You openly and unabashedly ogle. I’ve caught you many times, and it’s fine with me. You’re supposed to be showing my ass appreciation, not some artiste you’re hanging out with._ **_  
_ **

**_“Yours is so fucking…ample…”  
_ **

_Ample? What in the fuck is that supposed to mean?  
_

Donna could hear Carly giggling behind her.   “Oh my God, Donna! He’s trying to say you’ve got a fat ass in a diplomatic way!” 

“Shut up, Carla! I’m well aware of what I look like. My butt is plump, not fat!” 

"Okay, then we'll say it's just a bit of excess baggage in the caboose, so stop stressing out over it all the time!" chided Carly.

Donna felt herself fuming over Carly's comment. 

"Excess baggage? "

"I said it was only a bit."

“Girls! Please stop squabbling!” reprimanded Toni. 

Donna and Carly exchanged looks across the room. _  
_

_Mom has that way of bringing us right back to our childhoods_ , thought Donna.

"And regardless of what your boyfriend was insinuating in his drunken state, your bottom is in proportion with the rest of you," said Toni.

"Donna, I'm a doctor and you're fine the way you are.  We can't help how or where our body fat gets distributed," interjected Steven.  "Women always think they're too wide below the waist."

**_“Sweetheart? Are you pissed off at me? I didn’t use the most complimentary of words just now…what I meant was that your bum is utterly lovely in every way and squeezable…like two perfectly round apples, and…”  
_ **

“I get the idea, Ben,” said Donna quickly, face turning scarlet. “Thank you for the compliment.” 

Neil and Toni exchanged glances and rolled their eyes. ** _  
_**

**_“You know, Donna, Love…erm…the thought hadn’t even crossed my mind to look at her bum. Polly just happened to be wiggling it as she crossed my path and...well, you know how it is...”_**

“No. I don’t know how it is, but now would be an opportune time to shut up, _Ben Honey_.” 

**_“That’s the sarcastic Ben Honey. You’re not too chuffed with me right now, are you?”_**

“I’ll let you make that deduction being you did such a fine and splendid job of deducing whether or not this Polly person was wearing panties or not.” 

**_“Bugger off, Donna! Stop being so damn cheeky!”  
_ **

“Excuse me?” 

**_“I’m really, really sorry, Donna.”_**

_I can imagine him standing there, doing the cute nose crinkle and lopsided smile while he’s talking to me. It doesn’t work over the phone, Benedict.  
_

“I’ve never heard you mention this Polly before.” 

**_“For fucks sake! You’re jealous, Donna!”_** came Benedict’s boisterous laugh from the phone. **_“What in bloody hell do you have to be jealous about?”_**

“Just say goodbye, Donna. You’re sounding very petty and jealous,” said Carly in a low voice. “Cut the man some slack. He’s drunk and won’t even remember what he said tomorrow.” 

“I’m not _jealous_. I’m just _curious_ ,” insisted Donna, nose in the air. 

“Your sister’s right, Donna,” said Colin. “Take whatever he says with a grain of salt.” 

Benedict laughed uproariously. **_“Of course you are, bless. Let me state for the last time: You have nothing to be jealous about . I am true blue to the point of being an utter bore. I will stop flirting, and I promise that my dick will remain in my trousers at all times.”_**

Donna felt all eyes on her back as she switched on her laptop. 

_Now would be a good time for the floor to open up and swallow me. They must think we bicker all the time._

“Thank you,” Donna said curtly. 

**_“Except for when I have to take a wee, of course. Then I have to whip it out.”_**

“He certainly sounds like quite the handful, doesn’t he?” quipped Colin with merriment. 

**_“You’d have to ask your granddaughter on that one, Sir,”_** hooted Benedict. **_“Though, to be honest and not to boast, I’ve never had any complaints from her. Eh, Donna?”_**

The silence in the room was deafening. Donna wanted to crawl under the table. 

_I swear on all that is holy that I will never, ever, take a phone call from Benedict on speaker phone when they are here._

“There are some things we don’t care or need to know,” remarked Neil, helping himself to a roll. 

“Is he always so crude,” inquired Toni pleasantly from behind her. 

“He’s just off his face,” chortled Colin. “The man’s having a good time. Let him be.” 

“You’re right, Grandpa, he’s had a bit too much to drink,” affirmed Donna in a small voice. 

“Sounds like a lot more than a bit to me,” laughed Steven, slapping his hand on his thigh. “He’s a hoot when he’s drunk!” 

**_“I’m drinking for both of us, Doctor,”_** laughed Benedict. **_“Because my lovely Donna’s not a drinker sad to have to report. She’s no fun at these things.”_**

Steven looked as an expression of hurt, followed by anger crossed Donna’s face. _Oh, shit. Benedict, you’ve just set her off but good._

“Oh, Ben, that’s not true!” protested Steven. “I can tell you that during affairs…” 

**_“Blimey! How many affairs have you had, you right wanker? Does your wife suspect?”_**

Neil and Toni exchanged looks and rolled their eyes in disgust. Carly covered her mouth to keep from laughing out loud. 

“What I meant was that Donna is lots of fun at family get togethers and social events,” explained Steven. 

“You don’t have to get drunk to have fun,” declared Neil. 

“Sure you do!” giggled Colin. “That’s the only way to survive some of these boring dos, right Benedict?” 

**_“Yes, Sir. That’s exactly it in a numbshell…I think I meant nutshell. I don’t know what I meant; but I do know that I like you...much more than your son.”_**

“What’s there not to like about me?” asked Neil innocently. 

“Plenty,” muttered Steven to himself. He felt Carly kick his ankle under the table. 

**_“Oh, fuck me…oh, sorry. Forgive my swearing. I probably should not have said that,”_** said Benedict. **_“I realize after I said it that I shouldn’t have. Sorry, Neil. Of course I didn’t mean that…well, I meant some of it…no. I’m a bit off my face and don’t know what I’m saying. So, so, so, soooooo terribly sorry.”_**

“ _Oh, Benedict_ ,” said Donna sharply. 

**_“Oh, crumpets! That’s the ‘oh Benedict’ that you say whenever you’re not pleased with me. I can tell because it’s a whole hell of a lot different than the ‘oh Benedict’ that you say when we’re in bed.”_**

The whole table laughed at the way Benedict imitated Donna’s voice when saying ‘oh Benedict’ the second time. 

“My dinner is getting cold, _Ben Honey_ ,” said Donna with annoyance. 

**_“Oh dear! That’s not the Ben Honey, which never fails to make me stiff.”_**

“Jesus,” rasped Neil. 

“On second thought, crude was _too_ kind,” quipped Toni. 

“You know how I hate cold food, Benedict,” Donna gently reminded him. 

_Take this as your cue to say goodbye now, Benedict!_

**_“You have a bloody microwave,”_** snapped Benedict suddenly. **_“You can just heat it up in there, can’t you? Don’t you want to talk with me?”_**

_No. I don’t. You’re drunk as a skunk and most likely sulking.  I can visualize his pouting face._

“I thought you wanted to dance.” 

**_“I do! I do!   I just hope Polly doesn’t lose one of her boobs on the dance floor. Her dress is very…erm… revealing.”_**

“So I’ve gathered. No panties and sounds like no bra either.” 

**_“She’s definitely not wearing a bra.”_**

“I really hope you sent me a photo of Polly.” 

**_“Yeah, she’s in the wedding party, so yeah. You’ll see her. She’s a close friend of Eloise’s. I think she may have been the Chief Bridesmaid. Well, then, I’ve got to go. Polly’s getting cross that I’m still wasting time chatting with you.”_**

_Polly’s getting cross because he’s wasting time chatting with me? Me - the woman he’s in a relationship with. I don’t give a good God damn about Polly and her boobs and no panties. No. Actually, I do._

**_“Love you! Cheers!”_**

Donna marched across the room and punched the button that took the phone off speaker. She flounced back to the table and angrily sat down in her seat beside Carly. 

“Next time, make sure not to take his calls on speaker,” whispered Carly. 

“I know. I’m a dumb bitch for doing that.” 

“You said it.” 

“Let’s leave your beau to his partying then,” began Colin in a pleasant tone. “Don’t be cross with him Donna, he’s had a few too many and shouldn’t be held responsible for his actions tonight. I, for one, am going to take everything he’s said with a huge shaker of salt. The one thing that did come through clear as a bell is that he loves you and is missing you.” 

“Thank you, Grandpa, for being so understanding. You’ll see when you meet him that Benedict isn’t like that at all.” 

“Oh, yes he is!” scoffed Neil. “You two need to stop making excuses for the asshole.” 

“You’re entitled to your opinion, Son,” said Colin. “But I’m afraid we’re going to have to agree to disagree. Benedict sounds like he’s loads of fun and can certainly take the piss.” 

“Especially when he’s loaded,” retorted Toni. “I’m really looking forward to tomorrow more than ever.” 

“I’m looking forward to seeing those wedding photos,” declared Carly. 

“We’ll look at them after dinner,” said Donna. “Speaking of which, I hope you are all enjoying it so far.” 

“Everything is absolutely smashing, Donna,” said Colin. 

“Delicious,” agreed Steven. “I’m normally not a fan of Brussels sprouts, but I do like them prepared this way. The candied bacon really adds something.” 

Toni placed a dainty dollop of mashed potatoes on her plate. “You really should stir the butter into the potatoes, Donna. I don’t find a pool of it on top very appetizing.” 

_I thought I was the fucking food critic in this family!_

“There already is butter in the potatoes, Mom. I stole the idea from Miller’s to drizzle some more melted butter over the top before serving.” 

“Jolly good idea, Donna! Miller’s makes the best mash,” said Colin. “Remember when you were a small, I used to skim your portion right off the top?” he asked with a laugh. 

_As long as Mom hadn’t been up to the buffet first you did!_

“Yes, I do, Grandpa. Those were fun times,” giggled Donna. 

“I remember when Mom and I used to go up to the buffet to fill my plate. If we happened to be there when they refilled the mashed potatoes, she would just stir the butter in before spooning some onto my plate,” commented Carly. 

_And I bet she’s going to do it now_ , Thought Steven _. I wish I were drunk with Benedict in Wales right now, even if it is in a mine shaft without Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs._

Donna watched in horror as her mother took the serving spoon and stirred the melted butter into the mashed potatoes. 

Steven took a sip of wine as he surveyed the scene before him. 

_I need to stop this before it turns into a ruckus. Donna looks like she’s going to explode.  
_

“This is excellent wine, Donna. I haven’t come across this brand in London.” 

_Thank you, brother-in-law! There is a place for you in heaven!  
_

“Benedict and I toured a small family-owned winery while we were in Cornwall. We really enjoyed this particular vintage and brought home several bottles. I gave Carly one of the reds, but we can switch it up for the white.” 

Steven nodded. “Oh, yes, please! I prefer white to red wine any day of the week.” 

“I didn’t know you were in Cornwall,” said Colin. “When was this? Is this the trip your beau accompanied you on?” 

_I love how Grandpa refers to Benedict as my beau. He’s so cute._

“Yes, Pa. That was the trip I kept referring to as Donna’s pre-wedding honeymoon,” replied Toni sarcastically. “It was like a test-drive, I suppose.” 

_How dare you pass judgement on me, Mom! Carly and Kenny both slept with their partners before their weddings! Nona and Popi sure did brainwash her._

Carly offered Donna the platter of pork and leaned close to her in order to whisper. 

“Don’t answer her, Donna. Just think it,” warned Carly. “To say anything will only open up a can of worms.” 

“Stop being so damn snarky, daughter-in-law!” sneered Colin. “No one waits until they’re married to sleep together anymore. I’m single, and I have no intention of marrying again, so why shouldn’t Mrs. Baum and I enjoy ourselves? Sex is one of life’s great pleasures.” 

Donna and Carly covered their mouths to keep from laughing. 

“Score: Five Grandpa, zero Mom and Dad,” giggled Carly. 

“The Tribune sent me to do an article on their Gastro Week at the Nare, Grandpa,” explained Donna. “I don’t think you were home when I told them. I’ll email it to you.” 

“I remember the Nare! It’s a lovely place. Your granny and I spent a weekend there many years ago. I hope it still lived up to its five-star reputation.” 

“Oh, it sure did! Our room was well-maintained, the grounds are manicured to perfection and the food was to die for. It was a great time.” 

“If the food was so good, then why did Cumberbatch get food poisoning,” inquired Neil, as he sipped his wine. 

“Because he ate a bad oyster,” replied Donna, rolling her eyes. "He swallowed it rather than spitting it out."

“Who knowingly eats a bad oyster?” asked Toni. 

“It’s a long story,” said Steven in an attempt to end the line of questioning. “The good news is he’s fully recovered.” 

The landline began to ring. Donna swallowed a mouthful of pork and gave Carly a worried glance. 

_Please don’t let it be him. I think I’ll let the answering machine pick it up._

Donna’s voice came out of the answering machine on the desk: “You have reached Donna Saint James. Please leave your name, number and a brief message, and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.” 

After the beep, Benedict’s deep, resonant voice once again filled the room. 

**_“Donna? Hellooooo? It’s me. Benedict. Pick me up please.”_**

Donna jumped up and dashed over to the phone.   “Hello,” she said breathlessly. 

**_“Did you get the photos yes?”_**

“Let me check. Hold on.” Donna signed onto her email and saw that Benedict had forwarded the pictures to her. She opened one as a test and almost choked with laughter. 

_Oh, this has got to be a joke! Are these people freaking kidding?_

“Yep. They are here, and I can open them. We’ll look at them after dinner. Thank you for sending them.” 

**_“Don’t’ you want to see if they all open?”  
_ **

“Nope. I’m sure they will all open just fine. By the way, what was the theme of the wedding again?” 

**_“Erm…actually…I’m not certain myself. Hahahah! You’ll have to make a deduction from the photos and tell me.”_ **

**** _So many themes come to mind after seeing that one photo. Oh, Mom and Carly are going to love this!_ **_  
_ **

**_“Hang on, Donna. Someone’s just called after me.”  
_ **

“Did Polly find her underwear?” 

“Donna!” Carly called after her sharply. “Remember what I said before!” _  
_

**_“Yeah! I’m coming. Don’t start the shots without me, ‘Kay?”_**

“Shots?” 

**_“We’re doing jelly shots.”_**

“As in Jello…I mean gelatin shots? That doesn’t sound very exciting. Who serves Jello at a wedding?” 

“Jello shots have booze in them, Donna,” called out Steven from the table. “We used to make them in college in the dorm.” 

Neil and Toni regarded Steven with raised eyebrows. Steve smiled smugly at them across the table.

_Oh, I see blatant disapproval here. I’ve gone and burst their bubble. They should only know what went on at Disney behind the scenes. Hahaha!  
_

“You mean to tell us you never did Jello shots – _ever_?” asked Carly in disbelief. 

“I take it _you_ have?” asked Toni with a raised eyebrow. 

“Sure, Mom! Who at college hadn’t?” laughed Carly. “Everyone did them!” 

_Not everyone, Carly._ _I’m so damn dumb and clueless,_ thought Donna _. Always Miss Goody Two Shoes.  
_

_My mother-in-law should have seen how wild my wife was at Disney. I really need to see about that permanent position here. I’m pretty sure Carly will want to relocate here – especially if Donna’s going to be here._

**_“Yeah, well, these are very exciting!”_** giggled Benedict. ** _“These are made with tequila in the jelly. Shame on you for not knowing what jelly shots are! You’re a food critic for Christ’s sake! You bloody well should have known what they are. First, Marmite, now this. Shame, shame, Donna Saint James – hahaha! That rhymed. You should be sat in the corner.”_**

“Sorry that I bloody well didn’t know what they were,” snarled Donna. “I’m not as experienced as you seem to be when it comes to imbibing vast quantities of alcohol.” 

**_“That’s why you get bored so easily at weddings and such. A few drinks can change your outlook at these kinds of social events. Hang on, Love...one more teeny tiny…something…minute. Be right there, Doc!”_**

“Doc? Hey! You said the Seven Dwarfs weren’t going to be there!” exclaimed Donna, covering her mouth.   “Are you holding out on me, Benedict Cumberbatch?” 

**_“No! I was referring to my old friend, Michelle Dockery. We call her Doc for short.”_**

_Of course he does. Good gravy! I can’t wait to see the rest of these photos._

“Did she say the Seven Dwarfs as in Snow White?” Toni asked Carly. 

Carly nodded. “Yep.” 

“Oh, now I get why they got married in a coal mine. It was a Snow White-themed wedding,” said Toni. “That makes perfect sense.” 

“It’s not that kind of wedding from what I gather,” said Carly. “Donna’s not even sure what the theme was.”

  
Donna and Benedict said their goodbyes, and she returned to the table wearing a huge grin. 

“Eat up everyone. The photos are here, and from the one I’ve just seen, we’re in for a real treat!” 

“Interesting, were they?” asked Neil, cutting into a slice of pork. 

“I love to see a smartly dressed wedding party,” added Toni. 

_From what I’ve just seen, you’re in for a big surprise, Mom.  I definitely would not call it 'smart'._

Donna giggled. “I don’t know if interesting is the right word.” 

“Sounds like there was a lot of drinking going on at that wedding,” remarked Toni. 

“There’s a lot of drinking to be done at all weddings, Antonia!” corrected Colin. “That’s what celebrations are for – to have a few and let loose.” 

“Benedict is a social drinker, Mom,” said Donna defensively. “He enjoys a cocktail or glass of wine with dinner – and certainly not every night!” 

“It sounds as if he’s more than a social drinker to me,” retorted Toni with a smirk. 

“Jello shots. How classy for such a toff to be doing Jello shots,” observed Neil in a snide tone. 

“Things are different here, from what I’ve seen,” said Carly. “The British seem to drink more than we do, but I would never say Ben is a heavy drinker by any means.” 

_Jesus Christ! They’re going down that road again. Let me shut this down before Toni gives her temperance lecture on the potential evils of alcohol,_ thought Steven. _I’m the holy doctor son-in-law, so I’ll be able to get away with this._

“Carly’s right,” Steven interrupted. “It’s a different culture here as far as alcohol consumption goes, which I’m sure Dad understands as being part English. Grandpa certainly understands it as having been born and raised here. It’s neither good nor bad – just a difference between our cultures.” 

“That’s what I like about you, Steve,” declared Colin. “You’re always the voice of reason in this sea of insanity we swim in. We English enjoy our liquor, but it doesn’t make us drunkards.” 

“Thanks, Grandpa. Now, with that said, I completely agree with Donna,” Steven continued. “I’ve been in Ben’s company numerous times, and he’s proven to be a responsible social drinker. He won’t drive if he’s going to have a few, just as I am in the habit of doing.” Steven held up his wine glass to emphasize his words before taking a sip. “A glass or two of wine at dinner does neither an alcoholic make, nor the occasional overindulgence at a wedding, both of which I’ve done. Neither of you pick on me when I have one drink too many. Perhaps you’re being a bit over judgmental when it comes to Ben.” 

“That’s right, Steve! There’s nothing wrong with the lad enjoying himself. It’s not like he gets off his face every day from what you and Donna are telling us. Stop being such a prude, _Antonia_ ,” scolded Colin. “You’ve been known to enjoy a cocktail and wine on many an occasion. As a matter of fact, while we’re on the subject of drinking, would you mind topping me up, Steve?” 

_Holy cow! I think it’s time to change the subject to something even more volatile,_ thought Donna. _Let’s see, what is a safe topic of conversation?_

“So what are the plans for the weekend?” asked Toni. “When will we finally be meeting Benedict?” 

_Jesus Christ! That is not what I had in mind for a safe topic of conversation. I had intended to wait until later to drop that bomb on them._

“Did I happen to mention that Donna and I are going to be catering a TV show?” asked Carly brightly, poking Donna in the elbow. 

_Thank you, Carly! I love you!  
_

“Yes, Sweet Potato, you did mention that before; but first, I’d like to know what the plans are for meeting Benedict.” 

_Good try, Carly; but not good enough. Once Mom wants an answer, she will stop at nothing to get it._

Donna took a deep breath. “Well, I thought tomorrow you, Carly and I would do some shopping, followed by afternoon tea at Fortnum and Mason. They have a delicious and unique savory tea that I think you’ll enjoy. In the meantime, Steve has arranged for a golf outing with Dad, followed by lunch. Then we all meet back here to change and the three of us will take a cab over to the Ivy Restaurant in time to meet Benedict for dinner.” 

Neil frowned and gently poked Toni’s forearm with his fingertip. 

“And what is Cumberbatch doing all day? I would have expected him to join us for golf and lunch.” 

“Benedict doesn’t play golf, Daddy.” 

Neil rolled his eyes. “That’s hard to believe. Everyone I know plays golf. I guess it’s not posh enough for him. I bet he plays polo. Am I right?” 

_Come to think of it, I have no idea._

“I really don’t know, but I do know that he used to play tennis, croquet, rugby and likes horseback riding,” said Donna. 

“I hope he doesn’t play croquet with you until after you’ve had all the children you’re planning on having,” snickered Carly in a low voice. “Remember poor Kenny that time when we went to Cape Cod?” 

“Yes. Vividly, because you keep reminding me,” hissed Donna. “And Kenny went on to father three children with no problem, so shut up!” 

“I notice you used all past tense,” observed Neil. “What does Cumberbatch like to do now for sport?” 

_Have lots and lots of sex. I’d love to see the expression on her face if I had the nerve to actually say that! Dare do I say such a thing? I just think I might._

“Have sex.” 

Carly snorted as she spit wine all over her plate, and Steven began to cough and sputter on the mouthful of salad he had taken. Colin banged his fist on the table top and began to roar with laughter. Neil looked as if he bitten into a lemon, as Toni pinched the bridge of her nose with a pained expression. 

“Brilliant answer, Donna! There’s no better aerobic exercise on this planet than a good, bone-rattling shag!” Exclaimed Colin, shaking with laughter. 

“That was very flip of you, Donna Marie Saint James! That falls into the category of too much information,” snapped Toni. “Even for me!” she added. 

“Well, you did ask, Mom. I’m a grown woman, not a nun. Benedict and I are in a committed, serious relationship. We don’t sit around and play Parcheesi all the time.” 

There was a full minute of silence as everyone went back to eating their respective dinners. Donna and Carly side-eyed each other several times and tried not to laugh. 

“Anyway, in answer to your question, Dad: Benedict likes to run, practice Bikram yoga, go for long walks and meditate.” 

_And I’m really shocked that you didn’t already know that about him. I guess Mom’s investigator didn’t cover his hobbies.  
_

“And he swims in the ponds in Hampstead Heath,” added Toni. 

“You didn’t share all that with me,” said Neil. The expression on his face was of clear disappointment. 

“I didn’t think it relevant. I was only looking for dangerous activities – gambling, excessive drinking, drugs – though I’m not thrilled with his owning a motorcycle. Does he ride it often, Donna?” 

“No. I’m not thrilled either, but I can’t ask him to give it up.” 

Neil and Toni exchanged glances and shrugged. 

“If he’s such a busy _working_ actor, when does he have time to do all this running, swimming, walking and meditating on the true meaning of life?” asked Neil. 

“I didn’t say he does those things _every_ single day, Dad,” replied Donna. “He runs most mornings when he’s in Hampstead. In the summer, he likes to swim in the ponds in the Heath.” 

“Where is he the other mornings?” 

_None of your fucking business, Dad.   I know where this is heading. I’m sure Mom must know._

“Why is it our business or why do we even give a fig what Donna’s beau does with his free time and where?” inquired Colin with a frown. “If the man’s got a job to do, he may not have time to exercise regularly.” 

_I really do love you, Grandpa, but your son wants an answer._

“He’s here, when he’s not in Hampstead. When Benedict stays over, we like to walk along the Thames or use the gym downstairs. By the way, he also likes to paint in his spare time.” 

“Oh, is that his back up job then?” asked Colin with mounting excitement. “You can make decent money as a painter, Donna. Especially, if you get work from someone like your mother here, who’s constantly redecorating the house.” 

“Not that kind of painting, Grandpa,” smiled Donna. “Benedict paints pictures as a hobby – oil paintings, ink and pen drawings – that kind of painting, like an artist does.” 

“Is he any good?” inquired Carly. “You never told me that.” 

Donna nodded vigorously. “He’s amazing! I was shocked at how good he is. You should see the mural of baby animals he painted on the wall of Adam Ackland’s son’s nursery. I thought they had hired a professional artist to do it. He even hand-painted borders in their bathrooms.” 

“Well, that’s good to hear. He can always try his hand at attempting to sell his artwork should this acting thing not work out,” mused Colin. “Or he can get a job with an interior designer and paint murals and borders. Maybe you could hire him, Carly.” 

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind, Grandpa.” 

“Being Cumberbatch doesn’t play golf, we can do something else, can’t we, Steve?” asked Neil. 

“I think Ben is spending the night where ever the wedding is being held,” said Steven. “He’s not in London, right, Donna?” 

Donna nodded affirmatively. “The wedding is in Wales, so it makes sense for him to stay over. He’s going to the wedding breakfast tomorrow morning and then he’s coming back to London. It’s a three-hour train trip. Then he’ll need time to change once he gets home and straighten things out, so…. 

_Here it goes. I might as well get it over with sooner rather than later. The proverbial shit will now hit the fan._

…we’re meeting him at the Ivy Club at eight for drinks.” 

“The Ivy Club,” repeated Neil. “Is that different from the Ivy Restaurant?” 

Donna smiled smugly. “The Ivy Club is a private members only club, which is housed in the upstairs floors of the Ivy Restaurant.” 

“How, may I ask, are we getting in there? Do you know someone who is getting us in?” Neil asked, clearly impressed. 

“Yes. Benedict.” 

Neil and Toni both began to laugh as if it were the funniest thing they had ever heard. 

"Stop teasing us, Donna!  You really had me going at that one!" laughed Toni heartily. "Is it Jamie Oliver or Gordon Ramsay who got us in?"

“For a minute you had me thinking Cumberbatch actually was a member,” added Neil. 

“He _is_ , Daddy.” 

“Where did he get the money to buy a membership?” asked Toni, no longer laughing. 

“Those memberships are quite pricey,” added Colin. “I’d say a thousand quid, easy.” 

“I would think he had better things to throw his money away on,” quipped Neil. 

“He only has ten thousand pounds saved in the bank, and he does have a three-hundred thousand pound mortgage left to pay off, in addition to approximately two thousand pounds worth of credit card debt,” pointed out Toni. “Not to mention his monthly expenses such as utility bills, food, upkeep on his motorcycle and that old car, which must be falling apart by now.” 

Donna blinked and shook her head in disgust. 

“You ran a credit check on him, didn’t you?”   

_Why did I ask? Of course, she did. She just called in one of her favors._

“Of course, I did! I know all his financial history,” confirmed Toni. “You need to know what you’re getting into, Muffin.”

_No, Mom, I don't at this point. However, you and Dad needed to know._

_Jesus.  I remember when they ran one on me_ , thought Steven. _I really hate sitting here and having to listen to Toni divulge all of Ben's financial statistics.  
_

_I wonder how his report came out.  I want to know yet it's none of my business...isn't it or isn't it?_

Donna sighed, as curiosity suddenly overcame her.  “Okay.  I'll bite. Is his credit decent?” 

“Actually, yes it is. Benedict has a very good credit rating! He pays all his bills on time and has never missed a payment or maxed out any of his six credit cards.” 

“That’s good to hear.” 

“We just wish he had more money saved in the bank,” commented Neil. “That’s not a big cushion, should he not get any more work for a while.” 

“He had more money saved,” said Toni. “He had a little over sixty thousand pounds saved at one point. Then he bought the top floor of the house he lives in for four-hundred and seventy-five thousand pounds on New Year’s Eve last year. He put down fifty thousand pounds, so that’s why his savings are lean.” 

“He paid off a chunk of his mortgage with his last big check,” said Donna. “I think Benedict has the right idea to try and pay off his mortgage as soon as possible.” 

“Which is commendable,” agreed Toni. “Now, what’s this about drinks tomorrow night? I thought you said we were having dinner.” 

“We’re having a drink prior to dinner,” explained Donna. “The dinner reservation is for eight-thirty.” 

Toni frowned. “Isn’t eight-thirty awfully late for dinner?” 

“I hate eating that late on vacation,” complained Neil. “Your mother and I eat late every single night during the week because of our work schedules. We look forward to eating at a normal time on weekends and holidays.” 

“It’s Saturday night. People go out to eat late on Saturday nights,” began Donna. 

“We don’t,” stated Toni simply. 

“Neither do our friends,” agreed Neil. 

“Well, Benedict made the reservation; and that’s the time he prefers to eat,” retorted Donna. “You’ll both have to resign yourselves to eating at your regular time this Saturday night.” 

“Am I invited to this dinner?” asked Colin. 

_Oh, no. I hope his feelings won’t be hurt._

“No, Grandpa,” answered Donna. “Please don’t take this to heart but…” 

“Brilliant. I was worried I had to suffer through that.” 

_What the fuck? He doesn’t want to eat with them either! That is too, too funny._

“Steve and I want to treat you to dinner at Barbecoa, Grandpa,” said Carly. “It’s just a short walk from here. Jamie Oliver owns it. He’s the chef whose new restaurant I’ll be designing the interior of.” 

“It’s in a mall,” added Steven. “New Exchange Place.” 

“I’m looking forward to it then,” said Colin. “What time is our booking for?” 

“Eight. I hope that’s not too late for you,” replied Carly hesitantly. “I can always change it.” 

“Eight is perfect. That will give us time to go earlier and have a wander around the shops before having a leisurely dinner. After that we can drop into that pub in Paternoster Square for a pint on the way home, which will be my treat. I saw a sign in their window that they have live music on Saturday nights.” 

“Sunday’s going to be a big day for you, Grandpa, so you’ll want to get a good night’s sleep,” said Donna with a huge smile. 

“And why is that?” 

“Because on Sunday, you are going to be having afternoon tea with Wanda Ventham.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I purposely wanted the Neil and Toni chapters to have a darker feel. I don't want the whole story to be fluff and sweetness and light. I felt I needed to introduce some conflict and who better to have it with than Donna's parents. As their chapters progress, we'll see what motivates them and makes them tick, so to speak.
> 
> 2\. Miller's Smorgasbord is a wonderful restaurant, located in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. There is an Amish community there, and many of the restaurant specialize in homestyle, farm-to-table country cooking. They really do serve real mashed potatoes with melted butter drizzled over the top, which I love. I remember many years ago when I was about to help myself, this woman came up and stirred it in. 
> 
> 3\. My characters' opinions are their own and do not reflect my own personal ones.
> 
> 4\. Polly is a totally fictional character. I have no idea who Eloise Fornieles' maid-of-honor was.


	98. Chapter 98

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part Two of the Saint James Family Dinner: Benedict has a verbal duel with Neil and Toni. Everyone views the Birkin-Fornieles wedding photos. Donna makes a discovery in Hampstead that pleases Benedict to no end. 
> 
> Warning: If you are a fan of either David Birkin or Eloise Fornieles, and easily offended - I strongly suggest you skip this chapter; as I will be poking major fun at all aspects of their wedding. No holds are barred.

 

Colin Saint James’ face broke out into a huge grin at the mention of the name ‘Wanda Ventham’.

“Wanda Ventham? As in ‘the’ Wanda Ventham?”

Donna smiled and nodded. “Yes, Grandpa ‘the’ Wanda Ventham.”

Colin narrowed his eyes and frowned at his granddaughter. “ How did you come to know Wanda Ventham? Is she one of your Carldonn customers then?”

_What the heck? Does he not live with Mom and Dad? How does Grandpa not know that Wanda is Benedict’s mother?_

“Wanda is Benedict’s mother, Grandpa.”

“Blimey! Now, that _is_ a right lovely surprise! I’ve been a big fan of hers for an age.”

“You didn’t know that, Grandpa?” asked Carly, clearly as bewildered as Donna was.

“I thought you knew that, Pa,” said Neil. “I’m sorry for not filling you in.”

“I never even thought to mention it,” said Toni sadly. “I always assumed you knew, Pa. I feel awful.”

_Well, that’s a first,_ thought Donna with amusement. _Mom feels guilty about not bringing that to Grandpa’s attention. He’s her weak spot for sure in spite of her bravado at times._

Colin looked pensive as he stroked his neatly trimmed, white goatee while Donna, Carly and Toni got up in order to clear the table.

“I never made the connection because you’ve always referred to his parents as ‘Cumberbatch’s family’,” Colin said to Neil. “Come to think of it, I don’t believe I’ve ever heard either of you mention his parents by their given names,” he mused. “Of course, _now_ I know who they are: Wanda Ventham, one of my favourite actresses and her second husband, Timothy Carlton – that toff jobbing actor, who was in _The Scarlett Pimpernel_.”

Carly elbowed Donna as they carried the dirty dishes into the kitchen. Toni joined them at the sink with a tray full of used glasses.

“Sounds like Grandpa doesn’t think much of Tim!”

“No! It doesn’t,” agreed Donna in a low voice.

“I really thought he knew who they were,” remarked Toni quietly. “I feel awful.”

“I take it Wanda’s still with Carlton then?” asked Colin as he got to his feet and followed the women into the kitchen, leaving Neil and Steven alone at the table.

_I notice Grandpa refers to Tim as ‘Carlton’. This is like Dad referring to Benedict as ‘Cumberbatch’._

Donna nodded as she began to fill the dishwasher with liquid detergent. “Yes, Grandpa. They’ve been married thirty-three years now, and they get along beautifully.”

“I would certainly hope so,” Colin snorted. “A fine woman like Wanda Ventham deserves the very best. What are the plans for Sunday then? I take it he’ll be present yes?”

“First, we’re going to Wanda and Tim’s home in Kensington for…”

“We’ve been invited to her – their home?”

Toni, Carly and Donna all exchanged amused glances.

“Your grandfather sounds star-struck,” giggled Toni. “He’s really stoked about meeting her. The husband, not so much.”

“Definitely,” agreed Carly. “He looks like he just won MegaMillions.”

“Yes, Grandpa. They’ve invited us to go there first for a drink in order to get acquainted. Then we’re going to walk over to Kensington Gardens and have afternoon tea at the Orangery.”  

“That’s a fine idea to have a drink first then,” Colin chuckled. “That way Wanda can properly dress down your father in private rather than in the Orangery.”

Toni dropped the tray of glasses onto the counter, as Carly began to cackle with laughter at the thought of Wanda lacing into Neil. Donna kept pouring liquid detergent into the well in the dishwasher.

“Why are you all looking at me with your mouths hung open like that?” demanded Colin. “Do any of you actually entertain the notion that the author of my son’s favourite snarky fan letter is going to let an opportunity like this go to waste? If so, then you’re all sadly mistaken. I would fully expect a row of the first order to ensue.”

“Um…the thought had occurred to Benedict and me,” said Donna.

Neil got up and sauntered into the kitchen, leaving Steven alone at the table.

_That job offer is starting to look better and better,_ thought Steven. _I’m so glad Carly and I weren’t invited to any of this._

“I think you have enough detergent in there, Muffin,” Neil observed dryly.

“Shit!” cried Donna as she began to frantically spoon out the excess into a dirty glass. “I have to get this out before I ruin Marco’s dishwasher!”

Neil stood, leaning against the counter with arms crossed over his chest. “Well, to be honest, the thought has also occurred to me that the woman might still hold a grudge.”

“She _does_ , Daddy. Believe me, she does,” confirmed Donna sadly. “Benedict and I are very concerned that she’s going to make a scene.”

“You two are worried about her making a scene over something that happened – what? Five years ago?” exclaimed Toni.

“It was seven years ago, Dear,” Neil gently corrected his wife. “There are some people who will hold a grudge forever.”

“And Wanda is one of them,” confirmed Donna.

“You did give her son some scathing reviews, Neil,” declared Colin.

“Which he deserved as far as I’m concerned,” insisted Neil. “Ms. Ventham needed to mind her own business and let her son fight his own battles, should he had even cared to at the time.”

“Benedict wasn’t happy, but he chose to ignore it and move on…,” began Donna.

“I beg to differ,” said Toni. “I read in an interview Benedict gave that he went into a depression after those reviews.”

“Who wouldn’t have?” interjected Colin. “ I sure as hell would have.”

“Some of those things you wrote were pretty brutal, Dad!” exclaimed Donna.

“I suppose if I were Wanda, I’d want to talk it out to get closure,” mused Carly.

“I seriously doubt she wants to ‘talk’, Carly,” fretted Donna. “Wanda is as angry as if it were yesterday according to Benedict. You know I just dread Sunday!”

“I don’t see the point in Wanda rehashing the past,” chimed in Steven, bringing in the last of the dirty dishes from the dining room area. “Do you think she expected a retraction of the review or an apology?”

Neil laughed bitterly. “I don’t care what she did or didn’t expect. She was getting neither from me. I was there to do a job, and that’s all there was to it. I never even acknowledged her letter. Being a critic is purely subjective, and I was well within my rights to call Cumberbatch out on his unprofessional behavior as well as his rubbish performance.”

Steven shook his head. “I’ve met Wanda, and she seems like such a sweet and easy-going person.”

_A lot you don’t know, Steve. The woman can be a real bulldozer_ , thought Donna. _You haven’t a clue as to what she’s capable of. She’s the mastermind behind The Plan.  
_

“I have to agree with Steve,” said Carly. “I just can’t see her holding a grudge after all this time.”

“Well, I’ve been in Wanda’s company several times now; and I _can_ see her holding a grudge. Besides, I just told you all that Benedict assures me she does,” retorted Donna, wringing her hands. “I’ve been dreading this ever since you two decided to fly over to meet him.”

“Would you rather we didn’t get together with them Sunday, Donna?” asked Toni. “We don’t _have_ to meet them at this time. Benedict is the one we really want to meet.”

“It would be nice to meet his parents as well, Toni. Particularly since it things are serious between Benedict and Donna. He may wind up as our son-in-law one day,” disagreed Neil. “However, if it is going to cause you this much stress, Muffin; I will defer the final decision to you.”

_Whoa! A rare disagreement,_ thought Donna, making eyes at Carly who widened her eyes back at her.

“I was looking forward to meeting Wanda – them - as well,” added Colin, looking clearly disappointed.

The landline began to ring. All eyes went to Donna, then the phone.

_It’s got to be Benedict checking to see if we saw the photos yet._

“Do you want me to get it, Donna?” offered Steven, who was standing next to the cordless phone.

Donna nodded as she wiped the detergent from her hands. “Yes, please.”

_I hope he has the common sense not to take the call on speaker._

“Hello?” chirped Steven, making sure the speaker feature was off. “Saint James Residence.”

**_“Steve? Dr. Cip…riano, I presume?”_ **

“At your service. How’s the reception, Ben?”

**_“It’s the bees knees! Yeah. It’s been an all-round ace wedding. Wish you were here to partake of some epic drinking and dancing.”  
_ **

“So do I.” ** _  
_**

**_“It’s too bad you’re stuck there with the wanker in-laws,” Benedict chortled. “I’m chuffed as hell that I’m here.”  
_ **

“Well, maybe one day the shoe will be on the other foot.”

**_“You know what you are, Mate?”  
_ **

**_“No, but I’m all ears,” laughed Steven.  
_ **

There was silence. ** _  
_**

**_“Motherfucker!”_ **

“Excuse me? I really hope that’s the liquor talking.” ** _  
_**

**_“Sorry. I didn’t mean that you were a motherfucker…I meant that I was…oh, crumpets – what you must think of me! I’m sure I act like an utter knob sometimes. Yeah, well, I would never call you that. Not in an age…and certainly not literally. I just couldn’t remember what I wanted to say…the sad result of having consumed one too many Sloe Gin Fizzy drinks… so I was just...”  
_ **

“Running off at the mouth. I understand completely.”

**_“Brilliant deduction, Doctor! I was also calling back because I had more to say.”  
_ **

“Is he still drunk?” asked Donna worriedly.

Steven nodded and covered the phone. “Yeah. Though not quite as bad as the last conversation. He’s no longer slurring his words. I think he’s starting to slowly sober up.” ** _  
_**

**_“Is my lovely, sexy Donna around or is she pissed off at me for acting like an utter arsehole before?”_ **

“You can ask her yourself. She’s right here.”

**_“Are your wanker in-laws still there?”_ **

“Yes.” ** _  
_**

**_“Do they know it’s me calling?”_ **

“Yes.”

**_“OH, Fuckity, fuck, fuck! Am I on the bloody speaker again? Please tell me I’m not on the motherfucking speaker!”  
_ **

“Lucky for you, no. I had the foresight to switch it off,” replied Steven with a smug smile as he rolled his eyes at Donna. ** _  
_**

**_“Brilliant! Is there any way that I could speak with Donna alone then?”_ **

“Dubious.”

**_“Shit.”_ **

“That about sums it up. Professionally speaking, I think it’s time to lay off the booze, have some coffee – not that it really does anything - and keep drinking water. You might also want to take a couple of aspirin or other pain relievers before you hit the hay.”

Benedict sighed heavily. **_“Your advice has already been taken, Doctor. I’ve cut myself off from the bar and have drunk enough water to float a fucking battleship. I’ve spent more time in the motherfucking loo than I have on the dance floor. Fortuitously, I still remain pleasantly tipsy.”_**

“There’s room for a dance floor in a mine?”

**_“Bloody hell no! The do is in…another…place …that the miners used to use. I don’t know what to call it exactly. Their accommodations? Break room? Yeah. Actually, now that I’m having a better look around…I think I see train tracks…so…erm…yeah. Maybe I’m still in the bloody mine after all. Hahahah! Christ, I’m so fucking knackered!”_** Benedict yawned. ** _“I think I need to get to bed soon, or I’ll be in danger of passing out on the table.”_**

“I sure as hell wouldn’t want to be you tomorrow morning for anything in the world, and you will need to be on your game in time for dinner tomorrow night,” said Steven in a low voice.

**_“Fuck me. I almost forgot about that. I need to be un-hungover by then,”_** sighed Benedict, stifling another yawn. **_“No more drinkies for Benedict, unless it’s water,”_** he giggled. **_“I soooo don’t fancy being in their company tomorrow night! Might I be able to talk you into being my proxy?”_**

“No. I’ve done my duty, thank you.”

**_“You’re such a cock.”_ **

“When it comes to that, I am the biggest one in the room. Let’s make it a point to have coffee next week – when you’re sober, and I can tell you just how much of an ass you made of yourself tonight,” laughed Steven. “You aren’t in any condition to appreciate it now.”

**_“Bugger off you dick! Yeah, I’d really fancy meeting up for a coffee. Let me know what your schedule is. Can I speak with Donna now?”_ **

Steven held out the phone to Donna. “Ben needs to talk to you for a minute.”

Neil suddenly closed the gap between himself and Steven and took the phone out of his son-in-law’s hand. Donna froze in her tracks and watched in horror, as her father hit the button for the speaker feature and cradled the phone back in its base.

_NOOOOO!!! What is Daddy going to say to Benedict?_

“Hello, Benedict. Neil Saint James here. I’ve put you back on speaker so we can all hear and speak with you. It's so impersonal to have my daughter act as messenger, don't you agree? Glad to hear you’ve been enjoying yourself at the wedding.”

There was silence.

_I can’t even imagine what Benedict is thinking right now. He must be rubbing the back of his neck or his thigh while trying to make sense of why he’s suddenly got Dad on the phone and not me._

**_“Hello, Neil,”_** came Benedict’s deep baritone voice from the speaker. **_“I hope you and Antonia are settled and enjoying the finer things that London has to offer,”_** he added cautiously.

Donna, Steven and Carly exchanged worried glances.

_Sounds like Benedict sobered up in a hurry. Hearing Dad’s voice must have thrown him into a panic_.

_Let’s hope he doesn’t say anything stupid to Neil,_ thought Steven _. I’m absolutely going to bring up the job with Ted on Monday. I definitely need to find a way to remain here. Life is so less stressful with an ocean in between me and my in-laws – even for Carly and Donna. Carly won’t be thrilled with permanently relocating here, but I’m sure she’ll come around – especially if Donna’s going to be living here.  
_

“We’ve been discussing the plans for tomorrow, Benedict,” began Neil pleasantly enough. “I understand that we’re not going to see you until dinner.”

_NO. He’s going to bring up the late reservation time. I do hope Benedict remains calm and tactful about it with him because he sure as shit wasn’t with me._

**_“Erm…Yeah. As I’m sure Donna’s already told you, I’m in Wales for a wedding and will be returning to London tomorrow right after the wedding breakfast.”  
_ **

“Have the trains stopped running for the night?” asked Toni innocently.

“You know the trains don’t run all night, Mother! Stop baiting him,” Donna snapped.

“Really? I guess I’m spoiled. The trains run all night out of Penn Station - you can always get a train – even if there is a gap of an hour or two.”

**_“Sorry to have to disappoint you, Antonia; but this isn’t New York and the trains don’t run all night out of Cardiff,”_** said Benedict, stifling a yawn. **_“As a matter of fact, I’m out in the countryside – I’d estimate a good half an hour’s bus ride from Cardiff.”_**

“That’s too bad, as I was hoping we could have gotten in a round of golf and had some lunch prior to dinner.”

_Dad had to get his dig in, of course, so Benedict will know that he’s displeased. If they had any say in the matter, he’d be coming out on the first train tomorrow morning.  
_

“What time do the trains start running in the morning? Perhaps you can still salvage the day,” suggested Toni hopefully.

**_“They start running much too early for me to haul my bum out of bed after a night of drinking. Besides, I believe I already stated that I’ve been invited to the wedding breakfast and have no intention of changing my plans. The groom and I went to Harrow together, so we’re close mates. This was sorted out months in advance of your visit,”_** said Benedict adamantly. ** _“As I said, I’m sorry to have to disappoint you. Please feel free to carry on as you originally intended.”  
_**

_I wish Benedict could see the looks on their faces,_ thought Donna, trying not to laugh. _They were not expecting him to stand his ground. They fully intended for him to back down and find a way to rush back to London. Surprise!_ ** _  
_**

**_“Anyway, I don’t fancy golf,”_** added Benedict. **_“I not only find it a huge bore, but a perfectly good waste of time and money as well.”  
_**

“Does your father play?” asked Neil hopefully. ** _  
_**

**_“Erm…yeah. He does actually. When he goes to Gloucestershire, he often goes out with his cousins who live nearby the cottage.”  
_ **

“Do his parents own another property?” asked Toni with a slight frown.

“Yes. I’m surprised you didn’t think to check them out, too,” snapped Donna.

“Give her time,” whispered Carly. “She’ll get to it.”

Toni went to stand beside Neil. She took the notepad from the countertop next to the phone and made a note.

_Looks like Mom has another assignment for her investigative team. Wanda and Tim’s financial situation,_ thought Donna. _It’s still early in New York. Mom has plenty of time to contact her staff._ ** _  
_**

Neil covered the mouthpiece and addressed Steven. “Next time this happens, make sure to include the father for golf and lunch.” ** _  
_**

"Count me out, if Carlton's going the next time and I'm on the guest list," added Colin in a stage whisper.

**_“So, was there something else you wanted to ask me, Neil?”_** asked Benedict, stifling another yawn.

“Well, I was hoping that you could possibly change the time of our dinner reservation.”

“Dad!” cried Donna sharply. “Please let it alone!”

**_“To what?”_** demanded Benedict. **_“Do you fancy eating later then? If so, I’d be more than happy to move it to nine or half nine.”_**

“Actually, my wife and I were hoping you could move it back to say – six or six thirty.”

**_“Donna mentioned that you always eat dinner on the late side at home. Did I misunderstand?”_ **

“No, but…”

**_“Well then. I don’t understand what the problem is. I made the booking for your usual dinner time.”_ **

“It’s just that when we’re on vacation, we prefer to eat earlier,” explained Toni, now visibly annoyed. “It’s so late for us to eat a big meal and then go right to bed afterwards.”

“You are both always up until midnight at least,” observed Colin dryly. “By the time you get back here and ready yourselves for bed, you’ll have had plenty of time to digest your food properly.”

Neil glanced at his wife and tried one last time to persuade Benedict. “When we’re on vacation, we frankly find it a treat to eat at a more normal time. Perhaps being actors keep odd hours, certainly _you_ can sympathize with our plight.”

Donna did a double take and looked at Carly, who shook her head and shrugged. Steven had wandered into the living room area and taken a seat on the couch.

_Plight? Really, Dad? Benedict must be having a good laugh over your choice of words. Eating dinner later may be a nuisance for you, but not a frigging plight!_

Donna heard Benedict’s deep baritone chuckle resound through the speaker.

**_“I would hardly call eating at half eight a plight. An inconvenience, maybe. An annoyance, assuredly. But not a bloody plight!”_ ** **he chortled.**

“Can we appeal to you to indulge us this one time?” prodded Neil.

“Could you find it in your heart to meet us half way?” added Toni. “Six thirty for dinner and drinks at six would be a fair compromise.”

**_“If six and half six is your idea of halfway, then you were originally hoping to meet up for drinks at four and dinner at half four?”_** inquired Benedict, the amusement coming through in his voice. **_“Do I have that right yes?”_**

“No. Five and five thirty would be optimum,” replied Toni quickly.

**_“Bloody hell!”_** snorted Benedict. **_“That’s still teatime by my watch.”_**

“Shall I have Donna change the reservation?” Neil asked, feeling confident that he had won. “Toni and I would be very appreciative.”

There was silence. Donna felt her heart racing.

_I bet Benedict is reconsidering. I wish he wouldn’t. It will be like getting their foot in the door. Once he relents, it’s all over. I’ve seen it happen so many times before,_ thought Donna. _I don’t mind eating earlier - but only if we have something to do afterwards._

_If Ben gives in to their request now, that will only set the precedent for the future,_ thought Steven sadly. _They will continue to roll all over him like two steamrollers._

_Don’t give them an inch, Ben! They will take your whole hand!_ Thought Carly.

They heard the sound of Benedict clearing his throat. Then he spoke:

**_“I feel utterly horrible for having to spoil your treat, Neil; but that’s the earliest I can be there. I suggest you and Antonia partake of afternoon tea at four to tide you over. Then you can just order up something light like a salad or starters with us. The Ivy makes some lovely salads.”  
_ **

“But you’re not comprehending…” persisted Toni. ** _  
_**

**_“Oh, I’m actually comprehending just fine and dandy,”_** interrupted Benedict. ** _“You want to dine ridiculously early; and due to my prior commitments, I’m unable to accommodate your request. So very, very sorry, but we find ourselves in a situation that isn’t negotiable.”  
_**

Donna watched both her parents glare at the phone. Both were clearly not happy. ** _  
_**

**_“Anyway, now that dinner has been sorted out, you’ll have to indulge me and forgive my cheekiness,”_** Benedict said curtly ** _. “I’ve had more to drink than I should have, and I’m beyond knackered at this point, so I must ring off now. I’m looking forward to seeing you both tomorrow night, so we can have a proper chat. May I speak to Donna now?”_**

Neil removed the cordless handset from its stand and handed it to Donna, who took it off speaker and walked across the room, desperately trying to suppress the laugh that was welling up inside her. Steven gave her a thumbs up from the couch as she passed him and went to stand in front of the desk.

“You’ll get an extra big kiss for that, Ben Honey.” ** _  
_**

**_“For what?”_** Benedict snickered ** _. “For having the bollocks to stand up to your parents? No amount of wheedling on earth was going to change my mind. They had it coming.”_**

“Agreed.”

**_“I feel awful for you, Darling. They must be putting you through hell.”_ **

“I’m used to it. At least I can escape to Hampstead in a couple of more hours,” Donna whispered.

**_“Don’t forget the tube doesn’t run all night, and you have to change at Tottenham Court Road for the Northern Line – that’s the black line.”_ **

“I’ll be out of here by ten at the latest. I need time to decompress from this evening!”

**_“Jolly good then. I put a bit of text with the photos so you know what’s going on.”  
_ **

“Great! I’ll talk to you later when I get to Hampstead.” ** _  
_**

**_“Fine; but if you get my voicemail, that means I’ve gone to sleep. Love you, Sweetheart.”  
_ **

“I love you, too, Benedict.”

Donna returned the phone to its stand and smiled at her family, while rubbing her hands together eagerly.

“Anyone for dessert while we view the wedding photos?”

 

 

The Saint James family gathered around Donna’s computer in order to view the photographs Benedict had emailed while having coffee and the Campeche cookies she had baked earlier in the afternoon.

“Here’s the first one,” announced Donna, clicking on the attachment. “A friend of his took the first two photos.”

“Boy, it sure is dark in there,” observed Steven.

“It looks like the wedding is being held inside the mine shaft,” added Colin with a frown.

“The wedding and reception took place in an abandoned coal mine,” explained Donna. “I looked it up on line and the current owners rent it out for parties and events.”

“Which one is your Benedict?” asked Colin.

“Is that him in the beige checked suit, brown hat and…black Halloween mask?” inquired Carly.

Donna inspected the photo closely. Then she went to the next one, which was a full body shot of him smiling at the camera.

_Where in the hell is he?_ _Oh! Jesus Christ! That was him!_

Benedict was wearing a three-piece beige and white checked suit, open-collared white shirt, white shoes and wide-brimmed brown hat as well as a black mask.

_Good grief! That is one ugly suit my Honey is wearing there._ _I’ve never seen that one before and hope to never again! And now I’ll await the snide remarks from the peanut gallery.  
_

No one uttered a word as they all studied the photo of Benedict.

“Umm…yes, it’s him alright,” replied Donna, going back to the first photo. “He says his friend, Patrick Kennedy, took the pictures of him. He and Patrick also went to Harrow together. Patrick's also an actor.  They were in _Atonement_ together.”

“Another Toff,” laughed Colin. “Benedict certainly inherited Wanda’s smashing blue eyes,” he observed. “Other than that, he appears to favour Carlton.”

“Doesn’t Cumberbatch own a tie?” asked Neil. “It _is_ a wedding. All the men I see are wearing ties...and masks.”

“Not all of them are wearing masks, Dad,” pointed out Donna defensively.

“It’s too late for Mardi Gras and too early for Halloween,” quipped Neil.

“The suit doesn’t fit Benedict right, Muffin,” pointed out Toni. “It’s too big. The sleeves are creasing and the jacket is too large. The pants are too loose around his legs.”

“There’s also too much of a break in the trousers,” chimed in Colin. “That’s why they are pooling around his feet.”

“Did he lose weight?” asked Toni. “He seems very slender.”

“No, Mom. Benedict is naturally thin.”

“He looks almost scrawny,” added Toni. “He didn't look like that before. Does he eat?”

“Yes, Mom. Benedict has a very good appetite. He may be lean, but he has a very nice, build. You can see when he takes his shirt off that he’s got great abdominals and impressive biceps,” sighed Donna with a smile.

Donna noted that her mother whispered something to Neil, who considered her words and shrugged.

_I could swear Dad just said:_ “I supposed he could have lost weight since then.”   _Since when? Since they last saw him? That’s odd._

“It certainly isn’t the latest style he’s wearing,” mused Colin. “It reminds me of those baggy suits they were wearing back in the 1980’s.”

“I think it’s safe to say that the man doesn’t patronize Saville Row when shopping for clothing,” chuckled Neil.

“It really is an ugly suit, Donna,” commented Carly. “Maybe he bought it at Primark.”

“I’m thinking it may be vintage,” said Donna. “Benedict and I have gone shopping in vintage stores. He may have picked it up at Beyond Retro, which is one of his favorites.”

Toni looked horrified. “Vintage? You mean old clothes that other people have worn! For God’s sake, Donna! I was always so proud that I taught you girls to shop for a good sale; but old, worn clothing? I’m speechless!”

_Somehow I think she lies. Mom is never speechless. Ever. Give her ten seconds to catch her breath.  
_

“And your daughters remain a credit to you, Toni,” laughed Steven. “Let me reassure you that your daughters still love nothing more than a good sale at Selfridges or a trip to the outlet stores they’ve found.”

“We still go by your creed, Mom: Only buy it if it’s on sale,” stated Carly. “There’s no need to go into panic mode.”

Donna held up her hand. “Mom, there is nothing wrong with the vintage stores. Carly and I have shopped in them when we lived in New York. Sometimes there are great bargains to be had. That black quilted Chanel clutch that you’ve borrowed from me several times just happens to be from a vintage store.”

“It would have been okay if Ben had just gone to a tailor and had the suit pulled in,” remarked Steven. “I don’t find it as awful as you all are making it sound.”

Steven felt his face redden as all eyes turned to him as if he had said something totally outlandish.

Carly shook her head in disappointment at her husband. “You’ll have to excuse Steve. He doesn’t know what he’s saying.”

_And that is my cue to shut up,_ thought Steven. _They hate it, so that’s final. It is an ugly suit according to my wife and her family. Period. I think I might have some Sambucca in my coffee while they continue the critique of Ben’s outfit._

“You need to give him advice on how to dress, Muffin,” added Toni, taking a sip of her coffee.

“Believe me, I’m only too aware of Benedict’s fashion shortcomings, Mom,” said Donna, helping herself to one of the cookies. “However, I can’t just blatantly hurt his feelings by telling him that he looks as if he dresses in the dark now, can I?”

“Of course you can!” exclaimed Toni.

_I knew she would say that before the words had even left my mouth_ , thought Donna.

Toni sniffed. “You’d rather go around with a man who dresses like that. None of your past boyfriends had such abominable taste in clothes. They were all very fashionable – especially Roy, who has his own salesperson at Barney’s.”

_That’s because Roy’s parents have tons of money, and you pay him decently. He can afford Barney’s with no trouble. I don’t recall her being fond of Danny’s style. She used to ask him if he only owned jeans. I’ll never forget the time we had to go to Cousin Tommy’s wedding, and Mom found out Danny didn’t own a suit.  She dragged him to Bloomingdales and had him outfitted and ready to go in under two hours._

“I beg to differ, Mom. I recall you complaining that Danny always wore shorts, T-shirts, caps and flip-flops,” countered Donna. “Not to mention his hoop earrings, which weren’t exactly a hit with either you or Dad.”

“Danny only dressed like that because he lives and works in Florida. It’s so hot and humid there. Besides, you should see him now,” said Toni proudly. “He’s a far cry from the Danny Manganero you used to date.”

“It’s true. I was never a fan of the earrings,” declared Neil. “He doesn’t wear them now, since he’s become a big shot at Disney. By the way, does Cumberbatch have any piercings that we can or can't see?  Any peculiar...tatoos...I mean body art.”

“No,” replied Donna curtly.

Colin rolled up his sleeve and displayed his tatoo of a fighter jet on his right forearm.  "Blimey, I've got body art.  To think we used to refer to it as a tatoo back in the day," he chuckled. "Don't worry, I wont show you the rest of them," he chuckled good-naturedly.

_Grandpa has other tatoos?  I've only seen that one,_ thought Donna.  _They must be in places we're not supposed to see!_ She quickly glanced at Neil, who nodded and rolled his eyes.

“When did you two see Danny?” asked Donna with a raised eyebrow.

“When we were down for Easter,” replied Toni. “We met his parents for dinner at Artist Point in the Wilderness Lodge, and Danny came by to say hello on his way home from work. Laurel and Greg say hello by the way.”

_I love how they still hang out with Danny’s parents…and Roy’s. I can’t for the life of me see them hanging out with Wanda and Tim._

“You need to teach Benedict how to dress - especially if he were to become famous one day,” continued Toni, clearly warming to the topic.

“I’m sure they’ll get him a stylist should he ever be invited to an important awards show such as the Oscars,” laughed Neil. “However, I don’t think that’s going to happen any time soon, if at all!”

“Stranger things have happened, Dad,” said Steven. “I happen to think Ben’s a fine actor, so we’ll have to agree to disagree on that point.”

“What’s with the hat?” wondered Carly. “I hate to say this, but Ben’s not exactly a hat person.”

“While you’re at it, you also need to tell him to forego the hats,” added Toni. “His head is big enough without calling more attention to it.”

“As I said before, _Mother_ , I can’t just blatantly hurt Benedict’s feelings. I’ve been slowly addressing the issue without his realizing it, and I actually have made some progress. I just have to continue to make sure I’m very subtle about it,” explained Donna. “Rome wasn’t built in a day and neither will Benedict Cumberbatch become a reformed fashion plate in a day. These things take time,” she insisted.

Colin had leaned over Donna’s head to take a better look at the photograph.

“Those white shoes remind me of what the retired blokes down in Florida wear,” chimed in Colin. “Don’t look at me like that, Carla. You’re judging me. I’m retired; and I’ve been to Florida for the winter, so I’ve seen it with my own eyes. Therefore, I can say it.”

“Look! That woman in the middle looks like she has a blue bird on her head,” blurted out Carly with a laugh. “It looks like one of the little blue birds that were in _Cinderella_.”

“Look at the woman in that gorgeous magenta flowered kimono with the fan!” Said Donna. “And the man with the red bandana on his head with the white pirate shirt!

“Is it one of those themed-weddings that are so popular nowadays?” inquired Colin. “Mrs. Baum’s grandson had a rainbow-themed wedding back in March. Even the cake was rainbow-themed. All the layers were different colours and flavours.”

“I’ll be damned if I can figure out what the theme is,” shrugged Donna.

“Who is the woman standing directly behind Benedict with the Robin Hood hat? She looks familiar,” inquired Carly.

“Benedict's email says her name is Sophie Hunter.  She appeared with Benedict in _Burlesque Fairytales_.”

“It looks like she went out a bagged a pheasant for the feathers,” laughed Neil. “Perhaps they are serving the rest of the bird for dinner.”

“Her hat reminds me more of Peter Pan’s hat,” chortled Toni. “And that woman in the back has a hat that reminds me of the bonnet the nursemaid dog, Nana, wore in the film!”

“I think we can all safely agree that it’s an ugly hat,” declared Carly.

“Wait! The next one is of the bride walking down the aisle!” proclaimed Donna excitedly.

They all stared spellbound at the photo that appeared on the screen.

“What the fuck is she supposed to be?” asked a bewildered Steven.

“Are those deer antlers holding up the veil?” cackled Neil.

“Jeez Louise! It’s a salute to _Bambi_!” giggled Donna.

“She reminds me of the ghost bride in the Haunted Mansion,” quipped Toni. “I wish Benedict had sent a better photo.”

“Blimey! They look like weird antenna’s,” added Colin, setting down his coffee mug. “I’ve never seen anything quite like that headpiece, and I’ve attended a lot of weddings in my day.”

“Hold onto your hats, folks! The next one is of the bride alone!” announced Donna triumphantly.

Donna’s family stared at the photo and all began to laugh uproariously.

“HOLY SHIT!” cried Carly. “What in the hell is she wearing?”

“Her headpiece _is_ made from deer antlers!” snorted Neil. “They look like real deer antlers, too!”

“How very dramatic! Oh, my God! I’ve never seen such an ugly gown,” chortled Donna. “It looks like she had the dress made from balloon shades – like the ones Aunt Philly has in her living room!”

“Or the ones that are found in tacky catering halls,” added Carly. “Holy Christ. It looks like it’s very low cut in the front. I wish there was a shot of the front of her.”

“It’s very… gothic looking,” declared Toni. “I could live with the silver color but that burgundy bustle in the back…is it supposed to represent blood?”

Donna went to the next photo and almost choked on her cookie.

“Are those her boobs almost hanging out???”

“Sure looks it to me,” hooted Steven. “I’d give anything to be at that wedding!”

"Talk about a scooped neckline," giggled Carly.  "It gives a whole new meaning to the term:  low cut."

“She is for all intensive purposes - topless!” declared Toni. “Oh, and that must be Polly in the shocking pink…I swear that looks like a satin nightgown.”

“Ben’s right. Look at the side view in this photo. No panty lines,” commented Carly. “Ooooo…I see nipples. No bra either.”

“Cumberbatch is very observant,” quipped Neil with a smirk. “He’s a natural to play Sherlock Holmes.”

Donna ignored Neil’s barb and shook her head. “I love Polly’s Venetian mask and her feather bouquet.”

“Look! They all have feather bouquets, except for the bride. Those peacock feathers must have been very expensive,” mused Carly.

“They could have saved a bundle and gone with feather dusters,” hooted Steven.

“Did you see the bride’s bouquet?” asked Colin. “Bloody hell, but it looks like it was made from black spray-painted roses and thorns.”

“You’re right, Pa!” exclaimed Neil. “There was so much to take in that I missed that.”

“Oh, Lord! This tall, nice-looking man must be the groom – dark-haired and wearing the royal blue suit with the gold tapestry vest,” guffawed Toni.

“Beauty and the Beast!” hollered Donna. “Doesn’t the bride’s gown kind of remind you of Belle’s gold ball gown, but it’s silver?”

“Like hell it does!” laughed Carly, wiping tears from her eyes. “It looks more like a can-can dancer’s costume from _Moulin Rouge_.”  
  
“Take a good look at the groom, Curly Carly! He really does remind me of the beast after he becomes the prince again,” insisted Donna.

“I think Donna is right! Those antlers must be a tribute to _Bambi_ ,” smirked Neil.

“I thought you said this wasn’t a Disney-themed wedding,” said Toni, raising a skeptic eyebrow at her daughter.

“It’s not. It's fucking weird, it what it is,” laughed Donna.

“What a missed opportunity,” lamented Toni. “The bride could have dressed up as Snow White instead of the Bride of Frankenstein. They could have had waiters dressed like the Seven Dwarfs. It could have been enchanting had the wedding planner given it any thought. The venue just lends itself to a Disney theme.”

“Who was the wedding planner? Elvira?” snorted Steven. “Aren’t the table centerpieces made from deer antlers, too?”

“I think you’re right,” agreed Donna. “Unless they are tree branches twisted to look like antlers.”

"I vote for tree branches," chimed in Colin. "Interesting wedding for sure.  I've never seen anything quite like it."

“If that were me, I would have fitted the mining cars out with dining tables,” added Carly. “And served game for dinner…venison and pheasant. I told Donna they could have given out gemstones as wedding favors.”

There were a couple of more photos. Finally, Donna came to the last one, which was a group shot of everyone outside the mine. She was happy to see that Benedict had removed his black mask. She also noted that he looked disheveled and rather drunk.

“That is some motley looking crew,” sighed Neil. “Just what in the hell do these people do for a living?”

“Oh, some of them are in the entertainment industry like Benedict.  A good portion of them are considered avant-garde artists,” replied Donna. “The bride specialized in performance art. When I leave for Hampstead, look them up online and see for yourself. For example: The bride explores ideas about the subconscious. One time she swallowed enough tranquilizers to drug a horse, and lay unconscious in a bed for two days in a gallery. The audience was invited to influence her dreams by whispering into the ear trumpet above her bed."

“That was a very risky and dumb thing to do,” commented Steven. “From a doctor’s point of view.”

“Her work is certainly not for the faint-hearted,” continued Donna. “She cut up a raw carcass one time, not to mention that she’s danced in blood and stripped naked. Her performances question ideas about violence, the body and hunger strikes.”

Neil shook his head. “Sounds like the kind of shit you see in the galleries down in SoHo. It’s not my cup of tea. We have a critic who specializes in reviewing those types of art - Tyler Madison. There have been times when even he comes back shaking his head at the absurdity of some of it.”

“Her work certainly sounds different,” said Toni. “I’m definitely going to look them up before bed.”

“Ah Ha! Benedict said the theme was ‘Climbing Out of the Darkness of Loneliness and Into the Light of Married Life’,” Donna read from the email. “Oh, and wait until you hear what they served for the wedding feast: Pheasant, Venison and a pasta dish for the vegetarians.”

“Bloody hell! Now, that’s what I call making good use of all parts of the animals,” boomed Colin, slapping his leg. “So avant, much garde.”

"I couldn't have said it better myself, Pa," mused Neil.

 

 

 

Donna Saint James locked the door to Benedict Cumberbatches’ apartment behind her and turned on the burglar alarm. She leaned back against the door and took a deep breath, which she let out slowly.

_Ah! Alone at last! That was some night. I am so happy that Carly came up with the idea for me to stay here._

Donna walked into the living room area and went immediately to the window. She paused to stare out at the view of London in the distance.

_How pretty the city looks lit up at night! I can understand why Benedict loves this apartment so much. Man, it sure is stuffy in here! Maybe if I open the window, it will cool the place off._

Donna opened the window, and a cool, brisk breeze immediately greeted her.

_Ah, that feels good! I’ll go open the other windows, and it should be nice and cool in here in a little while._

Donna threw open the windows facing the street in order to get cross ventilation. Then she walked down the hallway and opened the windows in the bathroom and Benedict’s bedroom in turn. In just a few short minutes, she was able to feel the difference. Donna opened one of the two dresser drawers that Benedict had delegated to her and took out a peach-colored, tiered chiffon chemise to sleep in.

_Too bad Benedict isn’t here to appreciate this nighty. I might as well look good for myself. Hahaha!_

Donna smiled to herself as she noticed the white, goose down comforter occupying its usual spot on the floor in the corner.

_I never do expect to find the comforter on the bed, so seeing it heaped on the floor doesn’t surprise me. OH, look – he was referring to the fact that he didn’t make the bed. It looks as if he just rolled out of it and went on his merry way. That’s okay. He definitely changed the sheets because these are not the same ones that were on the bed the last time I slept over._

The chair by the window was piled with a discarded pair of jeans, a rumpled, white button-down shirt, blue and white striped sleep pants and two white T-shirts. A pair of pink socks with maroon and white stripes littered the floor beside the chair along with a pair of black leather sneakers, whose laces were still tied.

_Dare do I put those socks in the hamper? I bet they’re dirty. Donna bent down and picked one up in between her thumb and index finger. Eewww! Definitely worn and sweated in by the odor. He specifically told me not to touch anything, so I won’t._

Donna dropped the sock back onto the floor and padded out into the living room area, where she took a small shopping bag and pulled out a tin of her homemade cookies. After filling up Benedict’s empty cookie jar, she helped herself to some water to bring back to the bedroom with her.

_It’s definitely cooled off in here. I’m actually starting to feel a bit chilly now. The forecast was for it to get markedly cooler. I think I can safely shut the windows because it’s getting too breezy in here. Benedict made it sound as if he left the place like a pigpen, but it looks pretty neat and tidy to me. Hmmm… don’t see any dust on the furniture. The floors have been recently vacuumed. Actually, everything looks to be in order._

“Son of a bitch!” Donna cried out loud as a gusty breeze came in through the back window, blowing the papers Benedict had on his desk all over the floor. “Why did he not pull down the roll top before he left? Listen to what you just said, Donna, you clueless woman!”

Donna shut the window and got down on her knees in order to gather up all the papers. There were assorted billing statements that had Benedict’s handwriting marking the date and amount he had paid on them. There were a few emails he had printed out from his agent and a director regarding an audition for _After the Dance._ There was an email from Karon with a reminder and instructions for the _Creation_ premiere. Under the desk were two papers. One was a copy of the Ivy Club reservation and one for the Orangery for Sunday. Finally, there was a slip of paper with a list of ‘to do’ items that had lodged itself under the desk chair. Donna retrieved it and read the list as she took a seat at the desk:

 

  1.      Wed gift
  2.      P/U suit @ cleaners
  3.      Food
  4.      Dad’s BD
  5.      Chemist
  6.      Return calls
  7.      Respond emails
  8.      Make bookings - BA/hotel/rest/Nut
  9.      Email Frank



 

_Hmmm…Benedict has already done some of these. Hotel…I wonder where he’s going. BA must be British Airways. He obviously is planning on seeing a play, but hasn’t consulted with me about that. Maybe he’s surprising me with a romantic getaway! Hmmm…more likely it’s for work – I bet it’s for when he goes to Scotland to film the Van Gogh movie. I wonder who Frank is. He’s never mentioned anyone named Frank before; but then again, he never mentioned David, Eloise, Polly, Patrick and Doc until recently.  
_

Donna sorted the papers into three stacks and placed them in the center of the blotter with a note to Benedict apologizing for touching his things. A corner of a sheet of paper underneath the desk blotter caught her eye. She carefully pulled out the paper and closely regarded the sheet. The heavy bond paper seemed to be taken from a sketch book, and was filled with drawings.

_Ben’s been sketching flowers and leaves. This looks like a wreath of leaves…that’s definitely a flower. Looks like several different types of flowers…a rose…that one is a daisy…I really like this one with the alternating high and low petals…they look so delicate. I can’t read his notes in the corner…it looks like ‘white’ and that’s definitely ‘yellow’…mmm…I think that word is ‘five’. He crossed out yellow. Wait. It looks like he’s drawn three different views of all those flowers. This must be the first step in a drawing he plans to do. I’m guessing a drawing of white flowers. Oh well, time for bed.  
_

Benedict Cumberbatch entered his empty flat Saturday afternoon feeling better than he had a right to expect to. During his night of more-than-moderate drinking, he had made sure to keep himself hydrated by sipping water in between drinks and kept food in his stomach. Once back at the hotel, Benedict took three aspirin as a preventative measure, chugged a half liter of water and passed out in the bed, where by some miracle he managed to get a solid eight hours of uninterrupted sleep.

Upon waking, Benedict had taken three more aspirin, showered and attended the Birkins’ wedding breakfast before taking the train back to London. Sitting beside a window, watching the scenery pass, he rang Donna in order to have a brief catch up. Afterwards, he sat back and allowed his mind to drift to the night’s upcoming dinner with Donna’s parents. Benedict began to feel anxious about coming face-to-face with Neil and Antonia. He promised himself that he would not let them get the best of him no matter what transpired over the course of the evening. Luckily, Benedict was finally able to catch some more sleep and arrived in Hampstead feeling just a bit headachy. The walk from the overground to his flat in the early afternoon sunshine; had helped to considerably improve his mood.

_I will not let those wankers intimidate me or spoil the evening. I will stay true to myself and not try to impress them. I just need to be myself and allow them to see how much I care for their daughter. This is not a bloody job interview. This is a getting-to-know-each-other meet and greet. Tomorrow is going to be the true test of whether or not everyone is going to be able to peacefully co-exist without a row breaking out. I always imagined that I’d get along with my future in-laws and them in turn with Mum and Dad. If someone had told me Donna’s father was going to turn out to be that cock of a drama critic, I would have thought them nutters. I suppose the joke is on me._

Benedict toed off his shoes and slid his feet into his worn navy blue corduroy slippers. He stopped and frowned as soon as he took a few steps into the lounge area.

_Something doesn’t feel right. I definitely feel something bunched up in the toe box,_ he thought, bending down to remove one of the slippers. Benedict put his hand inside and extracted a pleasantly-scented dryer sheet. _Bloody fucking hell! Donna strikes again! Okay. I get it. My feet sweat and subsequently cause my slippers to have an odious smell. Jesus Christ. I don’t go around smelling her shoes. I really didn’t think my shoes were offensive – unless it’s one of those things you don’t notice because it’s your odour._

Benedict angrily tossed the dryer sheets in a waste bin and did a quick appraisal of the room.

_Looks like she didn’t touch anything else for a pleasant and unexpected change of pace. Oh, what’s this I see? She really did refill my biscuit jar!_

Benedict eagerly lifted the lid off the jar and was greeted by the strong aroma of cinnamon. He helped himself to a couple of the crisp, buttery, cinnamon-laced biscuits and began to read the note Donna had left by the jar:

 

**Benedict,**

**Hope you enjoy the Campeche cookies.**

_I do, I do! These are quite tasty and are guaranteed not to last the week. I’m such a tart for sweets!_

**I got up earlier than planned and walked over to Parliament Hill Farmers Market. I bought a few things for you while I was there. Check the fridge and countertop.**

Benedict eagerly rounded the breakfast bar and entered his tiny, galley-style kitchen. The first thing he noticed was the sweet scent of ripe peaches and plums that Donna had displayed in a bowl beside his coffee maker. Inside the refrigerator there was a packet of fresh linguine, a container of walnut/arugula pesto sauce, a hunk of Wesleydale cheese with blueberries, a bag of mixed salad greens, colourful cherry tomatoes and a jar of sweet pickled vegetables. _  
_

_Ooooo! How thoughtful she is! That’s dinner for a couple of nights easy. What’s in this package? Lamb chops! And a pork tenderloin! Brilliant!   Why in the hell is there a sticky note with an arrow pointing up – OH! You are such a tit, Benedict! She wants you to look in the freezer compartment.  
_

Benedict opened the freezer and was greeted with two containers of treats that made him smile from ear-to-ear. _  
_

_Ah! Coconut almond fudge coffee gelato. My favourite! What’s this one? Fuji apple sorbet. That sounds very refreshing._

Upon closing the door to the freezer compartment, he noticed some more items on his countertop and proceeded to take inventory:

_Ciabatta bread, rosemary and onion focaccia, raspberry balsamic vinegar, raw honey and a Chelsea bun because she knows I always have one whenever I go to market! Hahaha!_

Benedict picked up his landline and punched in Donna’s mobile number. It went directly to her voice mail. He patiently waited for the tone and began to leave a message:

“Hi Darling! I just got back from Wales and wanted to say a quick thank you for all the divine treats you left from the market. You take such extraordinary care of me – I don’t know what I did to deserve it. Anyway, I so appreciate it as I’ve got such a very busy week ahead and this will take care of a few nights dinners. I know you said you’ll be eating with your parents, but I think there is plenty for two should you decide not to eat with your parents every night and eat with me…or I wouldn’t mind us eating each other – literally. We could meet up for dinner and then come back here together to sleep, should you need a break from the family…or perhaps I can persuade you to cook something tasty for me here. That was pretty ballsy, wasn’t it? I’m sure you know by now that I didn’t mean it that way – that you _have_ to cook for me. I definitely don’t expect you to cook for me. I realize that you have a full time job – actually two jobs – and you work very hard at both, and I’m sure you’re just as knackered as I am at the end of the day…”

_And her fucking mobile just decided that my message was too long. Motherfucker!  
_

Benedict huffed and redialed Donna’s number and once again waited patiently for the tone:

“I’m back. Have I ever told you how much I fucking HATE leaving messages on your mobile! The bloody thing is forever cutting me off as if to say I talk too much. I don’t think my messages are that long - are they? Well, anyway, I was going to say that I consider it one of life's pleasures and such an extraordinary treat whenever we cook together.  I can always count on our having a giggle or two, but I'm not in any way implying that you have to cook for me, nor do I expect you to.  I can cook for you!  Or if I'm running late or too knackered, we can surely go out or even have takeaway should you decide to sup with me some nights as well. Whatever you fancy at the time is fine with me. I’m open to all suggestions – even those of a sexual nature, but I suppose that’s more akin to an after dinner tipple. Hahaha! Yeah. So, I just wanted to say thank you again for being so kind and taking such brilliant care of me. I also appreciate you’re not touching anything of mine while you were here. I know how hard that must have been for you, given your fondness for tidying things up. I’m going to tend to some pressing chores now. I’ll meet you and your parents at the Ivy at eight. Can’t wait to get my hands on you once we get back here! Love you! Cheers!”

_Hahaha! I beat her mobile to cutting me off!_

Benedict resumed reading Donna’s note as he slung his duffle and garment bags over his shoulder and headed towards his bedroom:

**I also kept my promise to you and didn’t touch or move around anything except for some papers on your desk. Details on my next note.**

**Love,**

**Donna xoxo**

**P.S. Just one little thing…I noticed that your slippers and sneakers have an unpleasant odor. It’s from when your feet sweat, so I used the same remedy that I use for my own shoes. I stuffed them with dryer sheets. Hope you don’t mind.**

Benedict frowned and sighed deeply with annoyance.  _Damn! I knew it was too good to be true! She went snooping on my desktop and deodourized my fucking shoes! Do I mind?  A little...I suppose she wouldn't lie about my feet smelling.  Bloody hell!  Who knew?  Olivia and I were together all that time, and she never said anything about my feet._

He dropped his bags on the floor and approached his roll top desk. There were three piles of papers in the center and another note from Donna on top of them:

**Benedict,  
**

**I had opened the windows to let in some fresh air and it turned out to be a lot breezier than I thought. While I was getting changed, a gust of wind scattered all your papers onto the floor. I picked them up and sorted them into appropriate piles. I promise you that nothing is missing!  
**

**Love ,**

**Donna xoxo  
**

_I can hardly fault her for that – it happens to me all the bloody time.  At least she wasn't deliberately snooping, but I know she probably enjoyed the opportunity to look at everything.  
_

Suddenly, Benedict’s eye caught sight of his drawing that the papers had been stacked on.

_Motherfucking hell!!!! She found my sketch of the engagement ring I’ve been designing! Fuckety, fuck, fuck! I wonder if she realized what it was!!!_

He moved the papers to the side and examined the sketch.

_Shit! On closer look, I don’t think she could really figure out what it was. Wait – what fresh hell is this?_

A yellow sticky note had fallen off the sketch and was lying on the desk. Benedict read Donna’s writing and laughed uproariously as a wave of relief washed over him.

**I love your drawing of the garden. Very pretty. I hope you will show me when you’re done with it! I especially liked the stylized flower with the alternating up and down petals. xoxo  
**

_Hahahah!_ Thought Benedict as he lifted the blotter and removed the finished sketch of the engagement ring he had designed for Donna.   This sketch was unmistakably that of an engagement ring, especially after Benedict had combined the flower center stone with the band of leaves.

_Too bad you missed this one, Sweetheart!_

Benedict clapped his hands together and laughed gleefully for a good minute. The he crumpled the original sketch that Donna had found and tossed it into the wastebin on the side of the desk.

_I’m especially chuffed that you like the same flower that I settled on. What a relief that is!  
_

Benedict Cumberbatch gazed at the photo of Donna and himself that he kept on his desk. He smiled and gently touched Donna’s image with his index finger.

_You should only know that you picked out your engagement ring last night! Hahaha! I think I’ll get the laundry going and check my email to see if her uncle Frank responded to my message._

 

 

_ _

 

_ _

_ _

_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. MegaMillions is one of the New York State-run lotteries.
> 
> 2\. Neil and Toni's opinions are strictly their own, as well as my other characters for that matter.
> 
> 3\. This story was conceived before Benedict got together with Sophie Hunter. She will not be part of this universe and is only mentioned in this one chapter because she is in two of the photos I chose to use, and I decided to poke some fun at her hat as well. 
> 
> 4\. The photo with Tom Hiddleston was the only one I could find with the suit, so I thought a bit of TH eye candy surely wouldn't hurt. ;-) For all TH fans, he does show up in future chapters once he meets Benedict during the filming of War Horse. 
> 
> 5\. I believe that is Patrick Kennedy standing next to Benedict in the photos.
> 
> 6\. All the details of the Birkin wedding, as well as some of the guests that are described, are totally fictional and based on my imagination and the few photos that I could find. 
> 
> 7\. The descriptions of Eloise Fornieles' avante garde works can be found on line, and those descriptions are taken from them. 
> 
> 8\. I was originally going to post the photo of Donna's engagement ring in this chapter; but decided to wait until we get to the chapter where Benedict finally proposes. Somewhere around Chapter 120 at this point. I always saw him as the type who would take great care in selecting and even designing a ring - given his artistic talents; therefore we will continue with that vision in this universe. If I get enough requests, I'll post it sooner.


	99. Chapter 99

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part One of Dinner at the Ivy Club: Adam soothes his anxious friend’s jangled nerves. Benedict moves ahead with his surprise for Donna, while Donna sets out on an ill-fated journey to the Ivy Club with her parents. 
> 
> Warning: There is lots of swearing in the first part of this chapter. If that offends you, please skip to the second half. 
> 
> Note: I’ll be using ************** for things happening at the same time.

 

Benedict Cumberbatch finished finger-combing his curly auburn hair and stepped back to take an appraising look at himself in the full-length mirror that hung on the back of his bedroom door.

_Well, Benedict, this is as good as it’s going to get. They’ll either think I look like a decent enough chap or like an utter tit. Let’s hope for the sake of my self-esteem, they will think the former rather than the latter. Though from the way Donna talks about her parents, I’m not going to hold high hopes. Tit it is then._

Benedict had spent quite a bit more time than he normally did selecting his outfit for the dinner with Donna’s parents. After much debating, he had finally chosen charcoal gray trousers, a dove gray woolen jumper and black socks with multi-coloured dots and swirls, which he decided added a bit of whimsy to his ensemble. His feet were clad in black leather brogues, and he was about to wrap a black and red plaid scarf around his neck when he hesitated.

_Perhaps the scarf is overkill? Hmmm….the weather has turned unexpectedly rainy and cool. Why shouldn’t I wear the fucking thing? I’m sure to feel chilled once I go outdoors. What would Donna say? Oh ho! That’s an easy one. She’d say: Remove the fucking scarf, Benedict. It’s only September! You aren’t going to Alaska!  
_

Benedict tossed the scarf behind him, where it landed on the floor just short of his bed. As the afternoon had worn on, he found himself becoming increasingly uneasy about the impending dinner. Not even a brief run on the Heath in the rain had improved his mood. Likewise the twenty minutes of meditation spent in a hot, verbena-scented bath that had only briefly alleviated the gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach. At first, Benedict had attributed the sick, fluttery feeling to his over indulgence the night before. Now, he realized that it was simply a bad case of nervous anxiety.

_You need to get hold of yourself, Benedict! I must appear calm and collected to Donna’s parents. I can’t let them see that I’m utterly rattled to the core. Damn this hair! It’s curling no matter what I do! Mark Gatiss and Steve Moffat would be chuffed as fuck to see me looking like this. I suppose this is the best I’m going to look…I certainly can’t change the face. I look like Shergar…or what did her bastard of a father call me? Oh, yes, how can I forget: a horse-faced twot. Let’s hope I pass their scrutiny – not that I actually give a toss. It’s not like they haven’t seen me before. They bloody well know what I look and sound like from those blasted Skype calls. If I don’t give a toss, then why am I still so concerned with what they think of me?  
_

Benedict turned to look at himself from the side and from the back in the mirror. Then he did it again and one more time after that. His reflection stared back at him with a harried expression. He stuck out his tongue and sighed deeply. _  
_

_You give a toss alright, you bloody arsehole. You give more than a toss because deep down inside you actually do long to make a good impression and want them to like you. Is that so wrong?  
_

Benedict fished his mobile out of his trouser pocket and hit the speed dial button for Adam Ackland, who answered almost immediately:

 

**_“Hello there, Mate!”_ **

“Am I interrupting anything?”

**_“Actually, yeah, you are interrupting the most fun I’ve had in days!”_ ** _  
_

_Fuck me! He’s in the midst of getting laid, and I’ve gone and spoilt the mood for them. Oh, Alice is going to have my head for this.  
_

“Oh, I’m so, so, _so_ sorry, _Adam! Erm…if you don’t mind my saying, you should consider taking the phone off the hook when you intend to shag.”_

**_“I should be so lucky!_** **_You are interrupting my washing of the kitchen and loo floors while Ally and Jon are having a kip.”_**

“I see. Well, as you were then. It wasn’t anything important.”

**_“NO! I’ve been dying for an excuse to take a break! Please feel free to interrupt.”  
_ **

“Oh, I don’t know if this is a good idea. I don’t want to keep you from doing your chores.”

**“It’s not only a good idea – it’s an absolutely brilliant idea!”**

_Adam does sound like he fancies a bit of a chat._ **_  
_ **

Benedict hesitated. “Only if you’re absolutely sure then.”

**_“I’m not shitting you! Please feel free to interrupt me - I’ve never been surer about anything! Besides I’ve just finished the last rinse, so now I have to wait for everything to dry before I put the stuff I moved around back in its proper place. I’m just going out to the conservatory so I can watch the fucking rain while you tell me your troubles.”  
_ **

“It wasn’t supposed to rain,” observed Benedict as he gazed out his bedroom window at the gloom that had descended over the Heath and London beyond. He could barely make out the London Eye and the Gherkin in the distance. ** _  
_**

**_“They changed the forecast. It was originally supposed to rain overnight, but the storm came in sooner than expected. You really need to listen to the weather more often.”  
_ **

“I shall consider myself properly chastised then.”

**_“So what do you fancy chatting about? I can tell you from personal experience that it does not pay to buy cheap mops…”  
_ **

“I feel like I’m going to puke.”

**_“I see…we’re going to have a medical chat. Wouldn’t you rather ring up Chaplin for that? He’s the doctor among our merry band of misfits. I’m hardly qualified…”  
_ **

“You are my best friend, Adam; and it’s you I fancy talking to - especially when I’m in a mood like this.”

**_“Ah, you need a sounding board. Go ahead then. I’m listening.”_ **

“I just don’t know what to do. I feel so bloody horrible right now. My stomach is doing somersaults, my head aches, my palms are sweaty; and I just have this overall feeling of uneasiness – like when you’re getting ready to go on stage.”

**_“I was going to say that_** **_you’re still hungover, but you’ve had plenty of time to sort yourself out. I have a feeling this is more of an anxiety-triggered reaction. Did everything go off alright last night?”  
_**

“I had a fantastic time…probably too fantastic, which I’ve been paying for even with the best preventative hangover measures.”

**_“Aren’t you supposed to be meeting Donna’s parents tonight?”_ **

“Erm…yeah. I am. We’re meeting for drinks at the Ivy Club at eight, followed by dinner.”

**_“Well, that’s your problem. You’re nervous about meeting her parents.”  
_ **

“Yeah. I guess you make a fine point. My hangover symptoms seem to have subsided…these are definitely new ones.”

**_“You’re describing symptoms of anxiety, and you don’t need Mark Chaplin to tell you that.”_ **

Benedict gathered up the pile of dirty clothes from his lounge chair and plopped them onto the floor so he could sit. “You’re right. My anxiety has kicked in.” ** _  
_**

**_“You can expect my bill in the mail then,” chuckled Adam. “It’s always my pleasure to help you sort things out. By the way, Ben, it’s almost seven. Shouldn’t you be getting ready? It’s a good twenty minute tube ride plus a bit of a walk to the Ivy.”  
_ **

“Oh, not to worry. I’m already dressed, so I’ve got a little time before I have to leave. You know how impatient I get having to wait around for people.”

**_“Of course you do, bless. You’d much rather they wait for you, you wanker. Oh, how you do love to cut it close, Bendydick.”_ ** _  
_

“Bugger off.”

**_“Sorry. Couldn’t resist.”_ **

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ve never felt as nervous meeting my girlfriend’s parents as I do tonight! I don’t understand what’s wrong with me! Olivia’s mum is a judge for fucks sake, and I wasn’t bothered by it!”

**_“Could it be the fact that there’s a lot of fucking animosity between you and her dad given your past history with him? Might it have something to do with the fact that her parents haven’t been the most gracious to you? How about the meeting of both sets of parents tomorrow? I’m sure you’re concerned – and rightfully so - that Wanda’s going to lace into him.”  
_ **

“Lace into him is too kind. I prefer rip him a new arsehole.” ** _  
_**

**_“That’ll do. Listen, Ben, there’s a lot of potential for major stress between tonight and tomorrow. It’s no wonder you’re feeling sick and anxious. I’d feel the same way if I were in your shoes.”_ **

“You’re right, of course.” ** _  
_**

**_“You need to calm down, Ben. You can’t show up acting like a Nervous Ned.”_ **

“I realize that!” Benedict bellowed. “I know I need to calm the fuck down! I need to make a good impression!”

**_“Then I advise you not to be yourself then if at all possible. Call upon that wealth of acting experience you have and be someone else. Might I suggest…”_ **

“Sod off you motherfucker!”

**_“Such a foul mouth you have. I definitely would tone down the swearing for starters, unless of course rough language impresses them.”  
_ **

“A lot of help you aren’t! Bloody fucking hell, Adam – I need advice!”

**_“Hang on. Alice bellows from upstairs.”_ **

Benedict could hear muffled conversation in the background.

**_“I’ve been summoned to the master suite. Seems there is a small leak in one of the motherfucking window sashes – again! A husband’s work is never done. You don’t know how lucky you are not to be married.”_ **

“Excuse me, but I was under the impression that you reside in a swearing-free zone.”

**_“I do, you cock; but they are all upstairs, so this is my fucking time to fucking enjoy myself, and I will fucking say what I please – for the next five minutes anyway.”_ **

“Go on then. I don’t wish to be the cause of Alice becoming stropy. I’ll sort it out for myself.”

**_“I’m sure Ally can wait a couple of minutes. It’s not like we need an inflatable life raft up there. You asked for my advice, and I’m going to give it. Just be yourself, Ben. You’ve never shied away from expressing your opinions, so express them. You’ve been known to swear, so swear. You’ve always been affectionate in public with your girlfriends, so don’t suddenly hold back on showing affection towards Donna. When you disagree with something that is said, you have always spoken up; so should this happen, speak up and defend yourself. Be proud of your chosen career and be confident in your talent, which you have an abundance of. Don’t let these motherfuckers make you feel like a piece of shit because you aren’t! Stand up for what you believe in and call them out on any shit they try and dish out to you. I’ve seen you in action, so I know what you’re capable of, my friend.”_ **

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck as he fondly recalled his conversation with Neil and Toni about changing the dinner booking time.

“Erm…actually, last night the parents were trying their best to persuade me to change the booking time for dinner and were being quite obnoxious about it. I wound up standing my ground, believe it or not. It was quite the satisfying feeling.” ** _  
_**

**_“See, I knew you had it in you! I’m so proud of you right now that I might shed a tear or two.”  
_ **

“Even Donna praised me,” declared Benedict proudly.

**_“Having her on your side is definitely an advantage.”_ **

Benedict chuckled. “I’m sure the alcohol had everything to do with bolstering my courage.” ** _  
_**

**_“A little friendly advice: Keep the drinking to a minimum tonight. Even though the sweet oblivion that a few drinks can provide will be sorely tempting, you would be best served to maintain a clear head. Savvy?”  
_ **

“Agreed. I’ll keep it to a cocktail and a glass of wine with dinner – OH FUCK ! I forgot about the motherfucking wine. I don’t know shit about what wine to pick. What should I do?”

**_“Not a problem. Simply invite the father to select the wine. It will make him feel important and give him an opportunity to show off.”_ **

“But then he’ll know that I’m a clueless twat! It will be very obvious if I do that!”

**_“You can always ask the sommelier to recommend something.”_ **

“NO! That’s even _more_ obvious!”

**_“Have I mentioned that you’re also on the paranoid side?”_ **

“I’m not!” insisted Benedict. “It’s just that…well, you’ve never dined with us at the Tate Modern. There is this wanker waiter who loves having a go at me because the bastard knows I don’t know shit about picking out wines. I stress out whenever Donna wants to go there. I have trouble sleeping the night before because the anticipation has gotten so bad!”

**_“Calm down, Mate. I’ve got it solved. If they all order seafood, then pick a bottle of their most expensive white. If they all order meat, then pick a bottle of their most expensive red.”_ **

“And if they all order differently – some seafood and some meat?”

**_“Then you order a nice rose. It’s somewhere in the middle yes?”_ **

“Are you asking me or telling me for fucks sake?”

**_“Telling. You could always order champagne being it’s a special occasion and impress the hell out of them. I promise you’ll look like a hero. Brut or Dom Perignon are always safe bets.”_ **

“I can’t afford to order fucking champagne!”

**_“The first dinner with the prospective in-laws is not the time to economize, Ben! Now, please just follow my advice; and you’ll be fine.”_ **

Benedict closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Bloody fucking hell, Adam! Which piece of advice? You just gave me several!” ** _  
_**

**_“Whichever one you fancy. Play it by ear and make your decision when it’s time to order. Listen to me, Ben. No matter what happens tonight, remember that you’re a decent, responsible man with good morals and solid family values. The motherfuckers should be delighted that their daughter chose you to love and want to make a life with.”  
_ **

“Bloody hell! You just made me sound like a candidate for sainthood,” sputtered Benedict. “I’ve got plenty of faults to go around.” ** _  
_**

**_“Oh, you misunderstand me, Mate. I would never nominate you for sainthood – not with that foul mouth of yours. However, you’re right. You do have faults. I have faults. We all have faults. But in the grand scheme of things, your faults are nothing compared to some that others have. You’re not a drug addict, you’re not an alcoholic, you don’t spend above your means and you don’t cheat… on Donna.”  
_ **

_There he goes again with the snarky cheating comment! I’m really getting stropy now. I need to straighten him out._ **_  
_ **

“For the last time, Adam - I _never_ cheated on Olivia!”

**_“So you say; but I heard otherwise from Olivia.”_ **

“Can we please for the love of Christ, drop it! I told you at the time that Olivia and I were on a…break. Eve and I were just flirting a bit when she dropped in to sort things out. It was completely innocent.”

There was the sound of Adam coughing on the other end.

_I can hardly insinuate that Liv was a liar when she wasn’t. She caught us red-handed, so to speak._

“Okay. There was a lot of flirting going on.”

There was silence from Adam.

_The right bastard wants me to say it. Fuck me!_

“For fucks sake! Fine! I came very close to cheating, but in the end nothing happened – I swear.”

The silence continued.

“Bloody motherfucking hell, Adam. Okay. The only reason nothing happened was because Liv walked in as Eve was about to give me a blow job and interrupted us. Happy?”

**_“Happier. Yes,”_** said Adam curtly. ** _“That is what I assumed had happened all this time. For the record, Ben, I don’t ever want to hear that you’ve been caught either reaching into the proverbial cookie jar or with your hand actually in it. Because if I do get wind of anything, I’ll knock the shit out of you on Donna’s behalf. And that’s a promise.”  
_**

Neither man said anything for a good minute as they mulled over their conversation.

“We’re good then?” inquired Benedict.

**_“Yeah.”  
_ **

“What were we talking about then?” ** _  
_**

**_“Your many faults.”_ **

“Ah, yes, of course. Donna certainly knows my faults: I’m forever struggling with my tobacco addiction, enjoy a joint every now and then, I’m stubborn, tend to be disorganized and perpetually late. She accepts them…except for the pot. She has no idea that I like to indulge a couple of times a year.” ** _  
_**

**_“Sadly, we share the first two vices on your list,”_** chuckled Adam. ** _“Neither of which Alice approves of, so I steer clear of them as you bloody well know. However, if that’s the worst you can say about yourself, then you’re ahead of the game. I’m not saying tonight is going to be a stroll in the park, Ben; but I do think in the end you will win her parents over.”  
_**

“Thank you, Adam. I feel much better. I really appreciate the advice, pep talk and vote of confidence.” ** _  
_**

**_“You can show your appreciation by coming over one night and helping me repair that motherfucking leaky window. I haven’t a clue how to fix it aside from stuffing a towel around the window sill.”_ **

“You can count on it.” ** _  
_**

**_“By the way, Ben, I didn’t mean what I said before about you being lucky not being married. Marriage is a wonderful thing, and I hope to hell that you find out for yourself sooner rather than later.”  
_ **

“If everything goes to plan, I’m hoping to be a married man at this time next year. I’ve decided to propose to Donna on her birthday in November.”

**_“That’s the best news I’ve had all day! Alice will be thrilled when I tell her. Maybe she’ll forget all about the window.”_ **

 “NO, NO, NO! You absolutely cannot tell Alice. She might let it slip to Donna and ruin the surprise.”

Adam cackled. **_“Do you ever listen to yourself speak? Alice slip? No motherfucking way that would ever happen. You, my friend, are the most likely one to slip given your stunning track record. Why who can forget the time that you told Dennis about the surprise party his wife had planned or when Jesse's mum...”_**

“Bugger off, you cock.”

**_“Try not to say anything like that to her father no matter how tempting. It makes you sound very low class. An old Harrovian needs to always display his best posh manners.”_ **

“Fuck you, _Sweetheart_ ; and I mean that in the nicest possible way.” ** _  
_**

**_“Somehow I doubt it.”_ **

“Okay. Okay. I promise I won’t. Mum’s the one whom I’m worried about. She poses the real threat tomorrow.” ** _  
_**

**_“I can just hear her now: Hells Bells!”_** Laughed Adam.

“Hells bells should be the worst thing that comes out of her mouth. Where do you think I picked up most of my swearing from?” Benedict laughed along with his friend.

Benedict could hear Alice’s voice in the background.

**_“I think that’s my cue to ring off and get my bum upstairs. Alice definitely sounds a bit stropy now. Stop worrying. You’ll be fine tonight. Why don’t you do something to take your mind off it until you have to leave?”_ **

“Don’t forget to enable your swearing filter, Adam.”

**_“Swearing filter has been enabled,”_** sighed Adam. ** _“Oh, crumpets, how I enjoyed uttering those forbidden words again! Now, off you go. Find a distraction for the next fifteen minutes or so.”_**

“I know just what I’ll do. I’ll check my emails. I sent Donna’s uncle in New York a message about making up a bespoke engagement ring for me, and I haven’t heard back from him yet. Cheers!” ** _  
_**

**_“Good luck and send me a text on how it goes. Cheers!”_ **

Benedict returned his mobile to his pocket, feeling somewhat better. He studied the pile of dirty laundry on the floor.

_I suppose I should throw in a load while I’m out. Then all I have to do is toss it into the dryer when Donna and I get back._

 

 

After tending to the laundry, Benedict returned to his bedroom where he retrieved his plaid scarf from the floor and pulled a fleece-lined, black leather jacket from his wardrobe. He then headed into the lounge to check his emails and was pleasantly surprised to see that the first message in his inbox was from Donna’s Uncle. The message had just been sent not more than ten minutes earlier.

_How about that? He’s a timely chap. Just when I needed a good distraction!_

Benedict quickly opened the email and read the message while rubbing his thigh and biting his lower lip:

 

**To: ‘Benedict Cumberbatch’**

**From: ‘Frank Mangano’ <[Frank.Mangano@diamondmine47nyc.com](mailto:Frank.Mangano@diamondmine47nyc.com)>  
**

**Subject: Engagement Ring/Donna Saint James  
**

**Benedict:  
**

**I just read your forwarded email from Carly’s husband, Steve, along with an introduction.**

_I can always count on Steve, bless him. He said he’d forward my email and pave the way, and he did. I owe him a night out at my local._

**My sister, Antonia, has mentioned that Donna was dating someone in London; but I had no idea things were this serious. I am pleased to read that my niece has found her special someone.**

  _Yeah, I bet Antonia kept the details to a bare minimum until she had the chance to conduct a proper investigation of my character and finances. I know Steve would never make such a thing up, but it still is utterly incomprehensible to me that someone would go to such lengths to check out the person their child is dating. I have nothing to hide from them._

**In answer to your question, I can make a custom engagement ring to your specifications.   Please go ahead and scan me the sketch along with the details so I can get you a quote. Of course, you must understand that the price of precious metals (particularly gold) and diamonds fluctuate daily, so the actual price cannot be determined until the materials are actually purchased.** **However, once I see exactly what you have in mind, I’ll be able to provide you with a ballpark figure.  
**

_I can do that. I’ve certainly done my homework. I know exactly what I want for Donna, thanks to her help! Hahaha!  
_

**I guarantee you that no one will give you a fairer or better deal whether it be in London or New York. The Manganos take care of family first and foremost.  
**

_Ah, I’m family now. I’ll expect a decent discount then. Even though this is the first and last engagement ring I ever intend to purchase, I’ve done enough shopping so I have an idea of what to expect._

**You indicate that you plan on picking up the ring when you come to New York to surprise Donna on her birthday. It is my understanding that you intend to propose over the Thanksgiving holidays. This will give my team plenty of lead time to produce the ring.** **My suggestion is to pick out the actual center stone yourself once you arrive. The setting will already be made up. I will have a selection of diamonds in your price range, so it will only take a half hour or so for you to select the stone and have it set in front of you.** **I also request that the transaction take place in cash (USD).**

_This is exactly what I had hoped to hear. I prefer to select the diamond myself. The other stones I’ll trust him with, but not the center one. However, I probably should take it to an appraiser, just to make sure he's done right by me. Cash is not a problem.  He probably prefers it so he won't declare it on his income taxes. I’ll just make sure to pop into the Currency Exchange before I leave._

**Let me also assure you that I will honor your request for complete privacy. No mention of our transaction will be made to my sister, or anyone else in the family. I would love to see my niece surprised as much as you do. I also look forward to providing you and Donna with your wedding ring(s) when the time comes.  
**

**Regards,**

**Frank Mangano**

 

_Jolly good then! Seems like I’ll be able to have a good working relationship with Frank, and I can count on him not to say anything to Antonia about my plan. Steven certainly thinks the world of him. Let me dash off a response before I leave, so I can set things in motion **.**_ **_  
_ **

Benedict’s fingers flew over the keyboard as he typed out his response:

 

**To: ‘Frank Mangano’**

**From: ‘Benedict Cumberbatch’**

**Re:   Engagement Ring/Donna Saint James**

**Dear Frank,**

**Thank you for the timely response to my email. Attached is a sketch I did of the ring I would like to present Donna with. She inadvertently came across one of my first sketches and indicated this was the setting she fancied – even though she hadn’t a clue as to what she was actually looking at. I am letting her think that I’m doing a painting of flowers.  
**

**Here are my specifications:  
**

  1. **White gold setting - 18karat preferred**
  2. **Center diamond to be one carat round good cut, white in colour, with little to no flaws visible to the naked eye.**
  3. **Same as above regarding colour and clarity for additional diamonds in the setting. As you can see from the sketch, we will need a mix of marquise and round cut  stones. I will defer to your judgement as to the correct size to be used.**
  4. **My budget is $3,000 USD, which I must strictly adhere to.** **  
**



**Not only is price very important– and most likely the deciding factor – but quality is of paramount importance to me. Should I have to choose a smaller center diamond in order to get the quality I desire, then so be it.  
**

**I greatly appreciate your respecting my request for complete privacy in this matter and look forward to hearing from you soon.**

**Yours sincerely,**

**Benedict Cumberbatch**

 

Benedict attached the sketch and hit send. Then he sent an email to his parents confirming the plans for the next day. He quickly scanned the rest of the messages in his inbox and saw one from his solicitor, Dennis Bretherton.

_Ah, ha! Just the one I’ve been waiting for, bless him!_

Benedict read the contents of the email and smiled to himself. Then he sat back in his chair, stretched and yawned before shutting down the computer. A loud clap of thunder startled him, and he checked his watch.

“Son of a motherfucking bitch! It’s seven forty-five! I’m going to be late!!!

 

*********************************************************

 

The black cab containing Donna Saint James and her parents rolled up to the curb in front of the Ivy Restaurant on West Street. A doorman with a huge umbrella immediately approached the cab and opened the door in order for them to get out. Neil paid the cabbie while the doorman accompanied his wife and daughter to the restaurant as the rain poured down, shielding them with his umbrella. Once Donna and Toni had entered the crowded restaurant, the doorman returned to escort Neil inside while Donna checked her and Toni’s umbrellas and raincoats.

“It certainly got a lot cooler,” declared Toni as soon as Donna rejoined her. “Fall has arrived with a vengeance. I’m glad I thought to pack some heavier things. Bea warned me they were expecting a cold snap.”

“So the forecasters kept saying,” agreed Donna as she anxiously gazed around the waiting area.

_Hmmm…I don’t see Benedict. Not that I’m surprised. The man does have a tendency to be fashionably late.  
_

Neil strode into the restaurant and looked around expectantly, as he removed his raincoat. “I don’t see Cumberbatch. Is he checking us in?”

_Oh, Daddy, you can clearly see the check-in podium; and you know Benedict is not here yet. Could he be in the restroom? I doubt it. If he were here, he’d be waiting for us. Actually, Benedict is the type who would have been watching for us and came out with an umbrella as soon as he saw us in the cab. Nope. He’s not here yet. Damn.  
_

“Why don’t you check your raincoat, Dad, while I let them know we’re here,” suggested Donna. “Then we can have a drink in the bar while we wait for Benedict.”

“So much for having a getting acquainted cocktail with your boyfriend,” snickered Neil as he stalked off to check his things.

Toni looked after her husband and then turned to face her daughter. “Maybe Benedict got held up in traffic. Everything slows down when it rains, and people often misjudge how much time they’ll need to get to wherever they’re going.”

“He never would have driven into Central London on a rainy Saturday night. Ben prefers to take the tube whenever possible.”

_And I just opened up a whole can of worms. I see that frown of disapproval._

“Be right back,” said Donna before Toni had a chance to say anything else.

Donna approached the check in podium and the very tall, raven-haired man behind it smiled warmly at her.

“Welcome to the Ivy, Miss. Do you have a booking for this evening?”

“Yes, I do. It’s for eight thirty for a party of four under Cumberbatch.”

The maître-D tapped his computer screen and scrolled down the list of names for the eight thirty reservations. He frowned and kept scrolling.

“Hmmm…did you say the booking was for half eight, Miss?”

“Yes.”

_If he forgot to make the reservation, I’m going to kill him. No ifs, ands or buts about it.  
_

“The name on the booking was Cumperbatch yes?”

“No. Cumber. Cumber-batch. C-U-M-B-E-R-B-A-T-C-H,” replied Donna.

The man shook his head. “I don’t see any name that looks even remotely like it, Miss. I’m sorry, but there doesn’t seem to be a booking for your party in the system.”

_Shit! Mom and Dad are just going to run with this one. I’ll be hearing about this for years to come:   The night my boyfriend didn’t think it important enough to make a reservation for their first dinner together. Holy cow!_

“Gosh! My boyfriend must have forgotten to make the reservation or it somehow dropped out of your system.”

“We never lose bookings, Miss.”

_I just love when they say ‘never’. It does happen. I’ve had it happen to me. I just wish I had the damn confirmation number to shove in front of his nose._

“Well, maybe this time it did,” retorted Donna, as she rummaged in her handbag and tried to open her wallet. “My parents are here from New York, and we wanted to take them here for dinner tonight to impress them.”

“I’m sorry, Miss; but we’re full. I even have people waiting to be sat at the bar for a meal.”

Donna pulled a twenty pound note from her wallet and palmed it. She looked around to make sure they weren’t being watched and quickly moved her hand to the side and then top of the podium so the man could just see it.

“Are you _sure_ there isn’t a table available?”

“Quite sure, Miss.”

_Son of a bitch! That always worked whenever Roy or Dad did it!  
_

The man resumed tapping on the computer screen. He looked up and smiled at Donna. “However, it looks like there is availability at our sister restaurant, J. Sheekey. They specialize in seafood. Would you like me to book a table for you, Mrs. Cumpberspatch?”

_Holy cow! Now I get why Benedict gets so irritated when people get his last name wrong. Mrs. Cumberbatch. I think I could get used to that. I remember that one time Benedict hinted that I might want to keep Saint James if we got married. Nope. I want his name. I want a lifetime of spelling it over and over again. Hahaha!  
_

Donna glanced back over her shoulder. Both Neil and Toni were watching her with interest. She held up an index finger, indicating that she would be with them in a minute.

“It’s Cumberbatch. Um…let me discuss it with my parents and try to contact my boyfriend. I do appreciate it,” said Donna quickly, as the maître-D discretely accepted the note.

_I’ll be damned. It did work, just not in the way I had imagined it would.  
_

_*************************************************_

 

Benedict Cumberbatch stood in his vestibule, gazing out at the torrential rain that had just begun to fall. He was just about to step outside when the heavens had opened up, causing him to hesitate. Benedict considered the umbrella in his hand and once again gazed out at the rain before aborting the idea and shutting the door to his house.

_Crap! I think it best I go back upstairs and get my mac. I’ll get soaked just walking to the tube station. I best take a cab to the Ivy Club. Hmmm…on second thought a cab will only get caught in traffic, and I’ll be even later than I already am. I’ll just take a cab to the tube station._

Benedict called for a cab and ran back upstairs to get his mac. As he was waiting impatiently for its arrival, his text chime sounded. It was his friend and solicitor, Dennis Bretherton:

**Did you get my email? DB  
**

**Yeah! Thank you so much for digging up all that info on such short notice. I owe you one, Mate. B**

**You may thank my team of investigators next time you have to pop around the office. They’re fond of any sort of bakery items you may care to bring along. DB  
**

**I’ll make sure to treat them properly on my next visit. B  
**

**Shouldn’t you already be sat at dinner by now? DB**

**Yeah, but I got a bit distracted with reading your email. B**

**You’re late then. The first face-to-face meeting with Donna’s parents, and you manage to cock it up by being late. DB  
**

**I’m not late yet. I was supposed to meet them for a drink at eight. B  
**

**Have you checked your watch lately? Its eight now. DB  
**

**Yeah, I’m late now. If there are no tube delays, I’ll be able to get there in time for the dreaded dinner. I hope I have the bollocks to use that info, should I need to. B  
**

**I thought that was the idea – to have some sort of ammunition if they start to give you a rough time yes? DB  
**

**I don’t fancy having to resort to using any of it, but one needs to be prepared when dealing with bastards like that. B  
**

**Well, good luck then. Let me know how it goes and give my love to Donna. DB**

**Thanks. Will do! B**

 

A black cab rolled up to the kerb and honked as Benedict tucked his mobile back inside his trousers pocket.

_Brilliant! With any luck, I’ll be there mostly on time. I’d better text Donna and let her know what happened.  
_

*****************************************************

 

“Sorry that took so long,” said Donna apologetically as she joined her parents. “Let’s find a seat in the bar so I can call Benedict.”

“I already checked. The bar is packed. Do I detect a problem with the reservation?” inquired Neil with a raised eyebrow.

Donna sighed heavily. “Yes, Dad, you detect correctly. There isn’t a reservation in the system. It must have dropped out – I know he made one. He promised me he was going to make one.”

“Seems to me that Cumberbatch’s promises are worth spit from what I’ve seen so far,” observed Neil dryly. “First, he’s late and now you find out he never made a reservation. If you want to preserve your sanity, Donna, you’re going to have to be the one who takes the reins in this relationship.”

“The man at the podium offered to get us in at J. Sheekey’s, which is owned by the same group as the Ivy. The menu features seafood,” explained Donna. “One of my fellow critics recently gave it a very positive review.”

“Sounds good to me,” said Toni. “I love seafood. Is it far from here?”

“I don’t know. I’m thinking we should probably just get our coats and take a cab there, but I want to call Benedict first and fill him in on what’s going on.”

“There’s nothing going on. That’s the problem,” retorted Neil grumpily. “I don’t care where we eat at this point. I’d be content with a slice of pizza at this point.”

Toni addressed her daughter. “It’s almost eight fifteen. Is Benedict one of those perpetually late people?”

Donna nodded. “Unfortunately. Time management doesn’t seem to be his forte.”

“Nor making dinner reservations, it would seem,” quipped Neil. “How about giving him a call and see where in the hell he is?”

“I was just going to do that, Dad,” said Donna as she opened her purse and retrieved her cellphone. The message light was blinking. “Oh, I have a message. I hope it’s from Benedict.”

“Be sure to get the reservation confirmation number from him when you call him back,” instructed Toni brusquely, peering over Donna’s shoulder.

_She’s got to be kidding. Benedict take the time to write down a confirmation number – hahahahahahahahha! Never in a million years would he think to do that! I wish she’d stop trying to read my text messages.  
_

“If we can produce the confirmation number, then they’ll have to seat us! I’ll make sure of it,” Toni added.

_No, they don’t have to seat us, Mom; but I’m sure you will find a way to make sure that we do. Sometimes I wish I could be as assertive as she is._

There were two texts from Benedict from around eight o’clock:

**Sorry I’m late! I have no idea where the time went. I got caught up in responding to some emails. I’m taking a cab to the tube station in order to save some time. Should be there by half eight. Have a drink and order some nibbles.   Bxx  
**

_Damn you, Benedict! Nothing like making a good first impression. It was so important for you to be on time tonight!_ Thought Donna angrily.  _Of all nights! I told him that they are even more anal about being on time than I am.  
_

“He’s running late because he got distracted with answering emails,” Toni said to Neil.

“I suppose his emails were more important than getting here on time to meet his girlfriend’s parents in person for the first time,” sighed Neil.

“Dad, please…”

“He says he has no idea where the time went,” continued Toni as if Donna hadn’t uttered a word.

“Shall I tell him?” volunteered Neil sarcastically.

“Sometimes his agent sends him offers that he has to respond to quickly,” said Donna defensively.

Neil blinked and attempted to hide a smile. “Well, being Cumberbatch is such an important actor, I imagine he must have been reviewing quite a few offers since he’s so late. I, for one, would never think to keep Steven Spielberg or George Lucas waiting.”

“Ben’s taking the tube and expects to be here by eight thirty,” said Donna, ignoring the jab.

“He said we should have a drink and appetizers in the interim,” added Toni.

“I sincerely doubt he’s going to get here by eight thirty,” said Neil. “Doesn’t he have to change trains to get here?”

“Yeah. It’s going to take him a good half hour,” sighed Donna as she looked at the next message:

**Charge the food and drink to my account. About to go into the station now. I’m going to top up my Oyster Card as there isn’t enough left on it and get on the first train that comes in. Bxx**

_He has to add more money to his fucking Oyster Card NOW??? He didn’t notice this the other day when he used it and should have topped it off then?  
_

Toni shook her head in disgust. “I’d say he’ll be more than half an hour – he’s got to add money to his Oyster Card. What kind of person doesn’t think to keep replenishing it?”

_Daddy’s now going to say: A dumb one. Go ahead, Dad. I’m ready._

Neil and Toni exchanged glances. Neil rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“A dumb one,” he said emphatically.

_Daddy never fails to disappoint me. Ugh!_

“Hopefully, there are machines he can do this at fairly quickly,” added Neil.

“Yes, there are machines in the station and an attendant,” confirmed Donnna.

“He says he’ll pay for the drinks and appetizers,” said Toni, looking over Donna’s shoulder.

“Well, he certainly should for making us wait,” scoffed Neil. “I’m going to check out the bar again to see if any seating has opened up.”

_Let me text Benedict now. He’s probably still in the tube and may or may not get these on the train._

Donna began to reply to Benedict’s messages:

**Unfortunately, there is no reservation in the Ivy’s system. According to the maitre-D, the place is booked solid; but he did say he can get us a table at J. Sheekey’s. My parents have been happier, to say the least. I’d love to get drinks and appetizers while we wait for you, but there is no room to be had at the bar. I think we’ll just get a cab to take us to J. Sheekey’s. Meet us there. D xoxo** _  
_

Donna hit send and watched as Neil rejoined them, looking even grumpier than before he had gone into the bar area.

“I’m sad to report that there is still no room at the bar. Shall we catch a cab and head over to that other restaurant the maître- D suggested?” he inquired.

“We might as well,” replied Donna withdrawing the coat check tokens out of her purse. “Give me your token, Dad. I’ll get our coats.”

As Donna stood in line at the coat check, her cellphone began to ring. She was both angry and relieved to see that it was Benedict. _  
_

_**********************************************************_

 

Benedict Cumberbatch stood on the tube platform at Leicester Square impatiently waiting for the next train when his text chime went off. He read Donna’s message and shook his head in disbelief.

  _Bloody hell! They’re in the Ivy Restaurant instead of the Ivy Club! I swear sometimes Donna doesn’t pay close attention when I’m talking, bless her!_

Benedict called Donna’s number, and to his relief she answered on the first ring.

**_“Ben! Thank God you called! Do you realize how late you are?”_ **

“Erm…yeah. I realize, and I’m very sorry about it. However, the good news is that I’m very close by.”

**_“Where are you exactly? Did you get my message?”_ **

“I’m stood on the platform at Leicester Square waiting for the motherfucking train. The sign says it will be here in five minutes. I could easily walk from here, but I’ll get drenched in this monsoon we’re having. The Ivy is a shorter walk from the Covent Garden station. I just got your message, which is why I’m calling. I wanted to tell you is that you’re in…”

**_“Do you have the reservation confirmation number? There’s no record of your reservation in their system!”_ **

“Yes, I have a copy of the booking in my pocket, but you won’t need it to be sat.”

**_“Oh, I beg to differ on that. The maître-D is one tough cookie. There’s no way he’s letting us in without proof of having had a reservation – in other words, we have to provide him with the confirmation number or a printout of it.”_ **

“The booking is definitely in the system, Darling. Someone rang me up earlier this afternoon to confirm it. The reason the chap at the podium couldn’t pull it up is because you are in the wrong place.”

**_“What are you talking about, Benedict? There is only one check in podium!”_ **

“You are in the Ivy Restaurant yes? The one we always go to?”

**_“Yes – where in the hell else would we be? Why are you asking me this? Is there another Ivy Restaurant in London that I don’t know about?”_ **

Benedict began to laugh. “Calm down, Donna.”

**_“That’s easy for you to say. You’re not standing around with my parents while they make barbed comments about you.”  
_ **

_I’m such a tit. I’m late and now they’re stropy and taking it out on poor Donna._

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck. “Oh shit. It’s because I’m a bit late, isn’t it?”

**_“Um…I wouldn’t call half an hour a bit late, Benedict. As far as my parents are concerned, you’ve broken the eleventh commandment: Thou shall not be late.”  
_ **

“The eleventh commandment! Bloody hell, that’s a stonker!” Benedict began to cackle and caught himself. “I’m so very, _very_ sorry, Love; but I assure you that my being late was for a good cause.”

**_“Would you care to enlighten me as to what this good cause was?”_ **

_I was ordering your engagement ring, but that’s a surprise._

“Nope. It’s paramount that we get you sorted out instead. Our booking is for the Ivy _Club_ , which occupies the upper three floors of the same building that the Ivy Restaurant is in. You’re in the ground floor restaurant yes?”

**_“Yes.”_ **

“Okay then. The entrance to the Ivy Club is outside and around the corner. It looks like a florist shop, and there should be a doorman in front. Go inside, tell them who you are, and they’ll have you sat immediately. I’ll text you the booking number in the meantime just to be on the safe side.”

**_“I wish you had told me they had a separate entrance. I assumed that the membership just entitled you to discounts and priority seating.”  
_ **

_Well, you assumed wrong, Love._

“Sorry. I thought you restaurant critics knew all about private member clubs and how they operate. It is a totally separate entity from the restaurant. It has its own bar and dining rooms for the members. Order me a Whiskey Sour on the rocks, please. Here comes my train. See you in a bit. Cheers.”

 

*********************************************************

 

Donna collected all the rain gear and rejoined her parents. She smiled sheepishly at them.

“I just spoke with Benedict. We’re in the wrong place.”

“There’s another Ivy Restaurant?” asked Neil with a smirk.

“I had a feeling this place was too expensive for someone like him,” said Toni. “No offense intended.”

“No offense taken, Mom,” declared Donna, handing out the raincoats.

_I lie. I’m offended on Benedict’s behalf, not that she would actually give a damn._

“Is this other Ivy far from here?” inquired Neil, helping Toni on with her raincoat and then shrugging into his own.

“Nope. We’re just going around the corner,” replied Donna with a slight smile as she buttoned her coat. “We’re having dinner at the Ivy _Club_.”

Donna relished the look of sheer surprise on her parents’ faces as she uttered the words ‘Ivy Club’ and it sank it.

_Oh, how I wish Benedict were here to see their faces! That was the last place on earth they expected to be eating tonight._

“There must be another Ivy Club, Muffin. The Ivy Club connected to this building is one of those private members only clubs,” scoffed Neil. “You don’t just go there for dinner. You have to be a member.”

“Benedict _is_ a member,” retorted Donna with a toss of her head.

_Oh my God! Look at Mom’s face! Something she didn’t know! She’s going to read the riot act to her investigator for missing that little tidbit._

“Those memberships are quite expensive, Donna, especially this place. Rodney has a membership to Black’s, and it costs him about a grand a year to maintain,” argued Neil. “I can’t see how in the hell Cumberbatch managed to wangle one given his income.”

“It seems like such a waste of money,” mused Toni. “Don’t you have to be invited by another member to join?”  

“Yes, and he was. Ben’s friend, Rob Rinder, who happens to be both a barrister and a member was responsible for his getting the invite,” explained Donna. “He recommended Benedict for membership.”

“Is Rob Rinder a school chum of Benedict’s?” asked Toni innocently.

_Oh, oh. I’ve set the wheels in motion. Now, Mom will be looking up poor Rob._

“They went to Manchester together. And just for the record, I was every bit as surprised as you both were that Benedict decided to join.”

_I wasn’t actually surprised - I was floored when he told me. All that money spent on a membership so we can have dinner in the special part of the building with celebrities and rich people. I’m sure the food is the same.  
_

“I can’t wait to see what the club looks like,” declared Toni. “I certainly hope Benedict gets his money’s worth.”

“Seems like a pretty impulsive decision if you ask me,” mused Neil.

_I didn’t ask you, Daddy; but when has that ever stopped you or Mom from voicing your opinions?  
_

“Benedict isn’t impulsive at all when it comes to money!” insisted Donna, as the anger grew inside her. “He’s actually very careful when it comes to making expenditures.”

Neil nodded. “So, you’re telling us he’s cheap.”

“NO!” bellowed Donna. “Not at all!”

“Donna! Keep your voice down!” reprimanded Toni, looking to see if anyone had overheard them.

“Why Benedict is one of the most generous men I’ve ever dated!” continued Donna in a lower voice. “He’s taken me out to some very expensive restaurants. We often go to the theatre…”

“He gets the tickets free from other actor friends,” interrupted Neil.

“Not always, Dad. Benedict doesn’t know every actor in every play. We go to the movies, we go to museums and galleries…”

“Many of which are free in London,” pointed out Neil.

Donna rolled her eyes. “Not all are free. Every Monday morning, Benedict has fresh flowers delivered to my apartment – enough for the two vases he bought me.”

“Which vases are you referring to, Muffin?” asked Toni with intense interest.

“The cow vase I keep on the breakfast bar for one. That was hand-made by a potter who has a store in Paternoster Square. It wasn’t cheap by any means because I priced it myself.”

“Just like your mother,” muttered Neil with a smirk.

“And Benedict bought me that Waterford rose patterned vase you were looking at Mom. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you how much that went for.”

Toni raised an eyebrow at her daughter. “No. You don’t. It’s a gorgeous piece. I thought it came with the apartment.”

“So, you’re telling us that Cumberbatch throws what little money he has around on frivolous purchases,” said Neil, shaking his head in disgust.

“I think it’s rather obvious from the lack of sufficient funds in his bank account,” commented Toni. “You should encourage the man to save, Donna. Not to spend wildly on foolish things like cow vases.”

“I love that vase, Mother,” snapped Donna. “Benedict is not a pauper for God’s sake. He owns his own home, and he knows how to manage his money just fine.”

Toni cleared her throat and looked at Neil pointedly for a moment. Donna could see whole paragraphs passing between them. Finally, Toni spoke.

“I’m glad you think so. Does he have any idea what you’re net worth is?”

“No.”

“Good. We’ll cross that bridge _if_ and when we come to it.”

_Jesus Christ! We’re not engaged, and I can see her getting on the Pre-Nuptial bandwagon._

“Mom. Dad. You’re both making too much of this membership. Benedict told me he was very excited about it and decided to treat himself. That’s all there is to it. I really doubt he’ll be able to maintain it; but at least he can always say he’s had a taste of the good life for a year,” laughed Donna.

“And we get to reap the benefits tonight,” said Neil. “Too bad Pa wasn’t here. He would have loved this.”

“I’ll see what I can do about having Ben set up a lunch for Grandpa next week. Anyway, let’s get going,” suggested Donna. “Benedict will be here before we know it.”

The doorman regarded the Saint James Family in puzzlement as they approached the exit clad in their raincoats with umbrellas in hand.

“Shall I hail a cab, Sir?” he asked Neil, while getting his own umbrella at the ready in order to head outdoors into the rain.

Neil shook his head. “Thanks, but no. We’re just going next door to the Ivy Club. It turns out we were in the wrong place.”

The doorman held the door open for them. “You’ll find the Ivy Club just around the corner to the left. There is a green awning over the entrance and two lamps on either side. There will also be a doorman wearing a bowler hat to assist you. Have a pleasant evening, Sir.”

Neil stepped aside in order to allow Toni and Donna to exit before him. Their umbrellas barely offered them adequate shelter from the wind and rain as they made their way to the green awning that was almost half way down the block, dodging the puddles on the sidewalk.

“Are you sure this is it?” asked Toni skeptically. “It looks more like a florist shop to me.”

“I don’t see a sign or a doorman,” added Neil. “Is it one of those top secret clubs?”

“This must be it from the description Benedict and the doorman gave us,” said Donna, pushing open the glass door. “Let’s get inside out of this rain and worry about it then.”

Once inside the sleek, modern-looking lobby, Donna and her parents removed their dripping wet raincoats and closed their umbrellas. All the laminated surfaces in the brightly lit reception area were stark white or mirrored giving the room a glamorous and luminous appearance. There was a small sitting area with a gray area rug and a couple of gray upholstered chairs. Even the tables were covered in mirrors or made of chrome with fanciful red and blue floral arrangements scattered around. The chrome and white staircase apparently led to the upstairs area, and there was a mirrored and glass elevator beside it. They were the only ones in the room.

“Jesus Christ. I feel like I’m home,” said Neil, his voice resonant in the empty room.

Donna frowned. “Our house never looked like this. Ever.”

“I was referring to the walk in closet in our bedroom,” laughed Neil. “Mom just redid it and it looks just like this inside.”

“She redid the closet again?” asked Donna incredulously in a low voice as Toni walked down a side hallway.

Neil nodded. “Joan Rivers came in to see Mom about a law suit, and she gave her the name of the company who redid her closets in her New York penthouse.”

“Here comes Mom. I wonder if she found anyone.”

“So, did you manage to find the elusive doorman?” asked Neil.

“There’s no one here but us from the looks of things,” announced Toni as she rejoined them. “You would think a fancy private club like this would have a greeter at the door at all times.”

“To keep out the riff raff like us,” laughed Neil.

“The other doorman said there would be someone here to assist us,” mused Donna. “There’s no one minding the store, which I find very odd.”

“Maybe the doorman is on a break upstairs,” offered Toni. “The only thing down that little hallway is a door leading into the Ivy Restaurant, which apparently occupies the ground floor. The Ivy Club must be on one of the upper levels.”

“I feel like a real life ‘Man from U.N.C.L.E.’ with the concealed entrance within the florist shop,” mused Neil.

“It was Del Floria’s Tailor Shop that the agents used to enter their headquarters, Dear,” laughed Toni.

“I guess we should just wait down here for Benedict to arrive. He shouldn’t be much longer,” said Donna, sitting down in one of the chairs and crossing her legs.

“Why don’t we just take the elevator upstairs and see if we can find the check in podium ourselves,” suggested Toni, pressing the button for the elevator. “It shouldn’t be all that difficult, Muffin. Besides, Benedict did tell you to get the table and order drinks and appetizers. I would think he’d be here by the time we were served. And even if he isn’t, I’m hungry.”

“I’m in full agreement, Toni. Let’s get this show on the road, Donna,” said Neil Saint James as the elevator door slid open and he waited for his wife and daughter to enter it.

_I, for one, am really looking forward to seeing Cumberbatch mixing with the rich and famous tonight,_ thought Neil Saint James with amusement as he entered the elevator _. The jerk will be out of his element in a place like this. I visualize it as the country bumpkin dining in the big city. What fun!_

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

_ _

_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. And we have a name for the baby: Christopher Carlton Cumberbatch. I think it has a nice ring to it and heartily approve. :-D
> 
> 2\. The Man From U.N.C.L.E. was an American TV show about two secret agents that ran from 1962 to 1968. Their secret entrance into the command center was through Del Floria's tailor shop. 
> 
> 3\. I have eaten dinner at the Ivy Restaurant, and it was delicious. The food and service were impeccable, and I plan to return during my next trip to London. You can have trouble spotting the entrance to the Ivy Club if you're not looking for it.


	100. Chapter 100

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dinner at the Ivy Club – Part 2. Donna deals with the Neil and Toni Show at their worst. Benedict arrives and a game of wits with Donna’s parents ensue. 
> 
> Note: I’m going to use ********** for things happening at the same time

 

 

Donna Saint James and her parents stood in the elevator as the door slid silently shut. It was bigger inside than Donna had expected, and the three of them fit comfortably. 

“Would you mind doing the honors, Toni,” said Neil. 

“There are three floors,” observed Toni, who was standing beside the control panel. “Which one do we want, Donna?” 

“Doesn’t it say what’s on each floor?” asked Donna, moving over to look at the panel. There were no labels indicating what was on each of the three floors of the Ivy Club. She gazed up above the door to see that there was no directory either. “I can’t believe they don’t have labels somewhere describing what’s on each floor! Would it be too much to ask?” 

“That wouldn’t be in keeping with the spirit of the secret club atmosphere,” giggled Toni. “You would want them to spoil that! Its half the fun.” 

“They must assume that if you’re a member, then you know which floor you want,” quipped Neil, rocking back and forth on his heels. “I bet Cumberbatch could tell us – _if_ he were here that is.” 

Donna sighed deeply. “Might as well try the …hmmm…this is the ground floor, so let’s try the first floor.” 

“It’s as good a guess as any, Muffin,” agreed Toni as the elevator began to slowly ascend. 

“You know I’ve been here for over nine months, and I still can’t get used to their using the term ‘ground floor’. I keep thinking first floor,” chuckled Donna. 

“It really is a lovely lobby,” commented Toni, looking out to the entrance area below. “I like the sleekness of it.” 

“Please don’t get any ideas about redoing the house again,” pleaded Neil. “I’m just getting used to our latest décor.” 

Donna’s text chime went off. It was from Benedict. 

**I’m sat on the motherfucking train. Equipment problem supposedly with one of the carriages. Conf#469912ELC. Hope to see you soon! Bxx**

**Me, too. Parents are hungry and getting cranky. Dxoxo**  

“Problem?” inquired Neil with a raised eyebrow. 

“Unfortunately. Benedict’s train is stuck in a tunnel for the time being,” replied Donna sadly. “Good gravy! What else can go wrong tonight?” 

“It seems we pretty much covered the gamut already,” quipped Neil. “I expect nothing but smooth sailing from here on end…or at least until Cumberbatch graces us with his presence.” 

“Oh, this is just terrible!” exclaimed Toni. “Did he at least text you the confirmation number?” 

_I’m sure Mom meant that it was terrible for us that dinner is once again delayed, not terrible for Benedict to be cooped up in a tube car._  

Donna waved her cellphone at them. “Yes, he did. It’s right here.” 

“Excellent!” said Neil, rubbing his hands together as the elevator came to a stop. “Then this is a problem for him, not us. Shall we, ladies?”

The elevator door slid open to reveal a sleek-looking bar with seating, in addition to what appeared to be a conversation or waiting area. Aside from that, there was a coat check, welcome desk and 3 or 4 closed doors off this area. 

“Doesn’t look like the main dining room to me,” observed Neil. “Unless it’s hidden like their entrance is.” 

“I’d wager to say this floor is for private dining or parties,” added Toni. “Nothing much going on here.” 

“That’s as good a guess as any, Mom,” said Donna. She pressed the button marked two and once again they began their ascent to the next level. “I hope this is it.” 

“I recall Rodney talking about a Loft Bar and a cigar terrace,” said Neil. “My guess is that those would be on the third floor.” 

 

 

Finally, the elevator came to a stop and the door opened to reveal a much livelier atmosphere. There were various conversation areas that had modern-looking wall art and multi-colored geometric-patterned couches in addition to chairs. Many of these were occupied with patrons, a few of whom Donna immediately recognized from the acting community. A long, polished wood bar was busy with customers eating and drinking.   To her relief there was a reception area with a pleasant-looking young woman dressed in black standing behind a reception desk made from the same wood as the bar. The woman was talking quietly on the phone, but looked up and acknowledged Donna and her parents with a smile and raised her index finger to indicate she would be right with them. Donna noted there was a couple standing in front of the desk with another one directly behind them, so they made their way over to get in the line. 

“This must be the place!” said Donna brightly as she looked around. “Did you see Patrick Stewart sitting over by the window? I swear it looked like Brent Spiner with him.” 

Neil craned his neck in the direction Donna had indicated. “Yes, that’s definitely them. He's doing a play in the West End.” 

“He’s very handsome in person,” commented Donna. “Those must be their wives with them.” 

“Yes, those are their wives,” confirmed Neil. 

“Oh, I do believe I see Tony and Stella Hopkins having a drink. See – there on the right, against the wall,” observed Toni. “I think I’ll go over and say hello to him. I have some good news about the law suit we’re working on for him.” 

Donna looked around and her eyes landed on Sir Anthony Hopkins sitting on one of the couches, sipping a drink and laughing. “What law suit?” she asked. 

“Tony is suing the company that was refinishing the floors of his Central Park South apartment. They finished them alright - and not in a good way. The Reader’s Digest version: They ruined them.” 

_I love how Mom calls Anthony Hopkins ‘Tony’. She truly believes in treating everyone as an equal. No ‘Sir Anthony’ for her. Hahaha!_  

“I thought they were a reputable company,” mused Neil, looking confused. “Didn’t Sera, use them?” 

“Lord no!” exclaimed Toni. “My sister knows better than that.” Then she leaned in closer to her husband and daughter and said in a low voice. “His wife selected the lowest bid. She even took the time to collect several bids and then went with the least expensive one. She never thought to check their references. You know my mother’s old saying…” 

_Yes, Mom. I know Nona’s old saying: cheap you buy, cheap you get._

Donna and Neil exchanged glances. Neil nodded and smiled at his wife while Donna recited the mantra. “Cheap you buy, cheap you get.” 

“Which is exactly my point, Muffin. Your Nona has always been right about that. Whenever she and Popi had any work done in the house, they always chose the best contractor they could find, with the most reputable references. Stella’s floor refinishers got horrible reviews online.” 

“Her husband could have checked them out,” retorted Donna. “What was his excuse?” 

“He was involved in filming and didn’t have time. You know, Donna, when a person is married to a famous actor like Tony, they often have to take charge of the running of the household.” 

“Well, it’s a good thing you’ll never have to worry about that should you wind up with Cumberbatch, Muffin,” chuckled Neil. “He can do all the research while he waits for Tinsel Town to come calling.” 

“Daddy! Please don’t start! Benedict doesn’t have any aspirations to go to Hollywood! He loves doing what he’s doing - the stage, Indy movies, the TV shows.” 

“That’s what they all say,” smirked Neil. “Mark my words; should the opportunity ever present itself, he’ll be on the first plane out there.” 

“Benedict does a lot of voice work,” continued Donna. “He does _Rumpole_ and _Cabin Pressure_ series for BBC4, as well as some others. He’s always getting called for commercials.” 

Neil nodded. “Voice work is certainly commendable and it pays the bills. Many actors use it in between jobs. Some even make a decent living at it.” 

“Well, Benedict wants to do more than just voice work. He wants to do a variety of things.” 

“Of course he does. Any actor will tell you that. No one wants to be tied to just one medium – though there are those who do prefer stage to films and vice-versa.” 

_I’m not going to win this mini-debate. Maybe I can get Mom to go back to Stella and her floors._  

Donna cast a pleading glance at her mother to change the subject, who nodded imperceptibly. 

“Anyway, Stella wasn’t thinking the whole thing through,” continued Toni. “She just thought with her wallet. That’s why…” 

“We can thank our lucky stars that Cumberbatch isn’t like that. He’s too busy throwing around five hundred dollars or more with reckless abandon on Waterford crystal vases,” smirked Neil. “Donna will have a charmed life if she sticks with him.” 

Donna huffed. “It wasn’t _that_ much, Dad. It was four hundred dollars, Dad; and as I said before; Benedict is perfectly capable of managing his money.”

“If he’s so good at managing his money, then why can’t he manage something simple like refilling his Oyster Card,” challenged Toni. “Then we wouldn’t be waiting for him. Had the card been filled, he probably wouldn’t have been on the train that broke down and been here by now.” 

_Good question, Mom. How the hell do I know what goes on in that funny head of his. Knowing Ben, he probably meant to; but got distracted with something._  

Donna shrugged. “I wish I could tell you, Mom. Benedict tends to get distracted easily at times.” 

“Hmmm….he had undiagnosed ADD as a child,” commented Toni, checking the time on her Rolex watch. 

_What the fuck? When did she become a doctor? Through osmosis of having a son-in-law for a doctor?_  

“If it was undiagnosed, Mom; then how can you make such a claim?” 

Toni smirked. “I came across an interview his mother did when he had just had his tonsils and adenoids out, which by the way, probably accounts for why he gets sick often.” 

“Benedict doesn’t get sick any more or less than anyone else I know! How do _you_ know this? This is just preposterous, Mom!” 

“Number one: from that interview where his mother talks about his running amok and the father having to subdue him during the interview speaks volumes to me.” 

“It speaks nothing, Mother! He was three when that interview was done and just had had surgery. Of course he was a bit unruly…” 

“Number two: I’ve read some of his interviews where he mentions that he was a handful as a child in addition to being susceptible to illness.” 

“I don’t remember him saying such a thing!” retorted Donna. 

“I have it right here in my notes,” began Toni, opening her purse. 

“Notes? You brought along your investigator’s report?” Donna nearly shouted. 

The people on line turned to stare at them as well as the girl manning the desk. 

“Shhhhhhh!” hissed Neil, taking Donna by the arm and gently leading her out of earshot of the reception desk as Toni followed them. “Not everyone in here looked.” 

“Sorry, Dad; but Mom can’t be waving around those notes during dinner,” said Donna in a lower voice. “I just won’t have that!” 

“I was just going to show you that I’ve done my homework,” insisted Toni. “I’m not just talking out of my hat. Did you also know that he’s had his appendix out and mono when he was in college?” 

Donna nodded. “Yes, Mom. Ben’s pretty much told me his entire medical history.” 

“Did he tell you about his pot smoking?” 

_No. He didn’t, but I read about it in an interview he once gave._  

“He tried it while he was in college and that was it.” 

“Are you certain?” 

“Of course I am! Don’t you think I would have noticed if he were high or I would have found a stash in his apartment by now?” 

“It’s not nice to be snooping around other people’s things, _Sherlock_ ,” admonished Neil. “Even his things. I thought you had stopped being so nosy.” 

“I’m _curious_ , Dad. Not nosy.” 

_And I sounded just like Benedict when I said that! Holy cow._

“I bet Benedict doesn’t go snooping around your things when he stays over,” said Neil. 

_And you would lose your money, Dad! There’s a lot you don’t know about my honey. He rivals me when it comes to snooping – being curious._  

“I’ve been meaning to say that Karon Maskill certainly has her work cut out for her,” said Toni, moving on to another topic. “Your boyfriend is quite the loose cannon.” 

Neil began to chuckle. “That crack he made about the Prime Minister was kind of funny. Unprofessional as hell, but none-the-less funny.” 

Toni also started to laugh. “To be frank, Benedict wasn’t wrong. It was an ugly suit that didn’t fit the man right.” 

“It’s a comfort to know you two find _something_ to like about Benedict,” quipped Donna sarcastically. 

“We don’t dislike him, Donna,” said Neil. “We barely know the man.” 

“Which is why we’re having this dinner…or breakfast at the rate he’s going,” added Toni. 

“I’m going to find the cloak room and get rid of these coats while you check us in,” said Neil, holding out his hands for their coats. “The gal at the podium just waved us over.” 

“I’m going to say hello to Tony and Stella,” added Toni. “Be right back.”

 

 

Donna approached the woman at the desk and waited patiently while she completed a phone reservation. A middle-aged man dressed in a perfectly-tailored black suit joined the woman behind the desk and smiled at Donna.   He was short and rotund with thinning ginger hair and a moustache. 

“Welcome to the Ivy Club. How may I help you, Miss?” 

“I’d like to check in for dinner,” replied Donna. 

“Of course, Miss. Hallie can do that for you,” he said as the woman hung up the phone. “Hallie, would you please check our guest in.” 

“It would be my pleasure,” said Hallie brightly as the man began to review some paperwork. “My apologies for the wait. What is the name on the booking?” 

“Cumberbatch,” said Donna. 

Hallie frowned. “How do you spell that?” 

“C-U-M-B-E-R-B-A-T-C-H. Its’ for a party of four at eight thirty. I’m sorry that we’re a little late. I also have the confirmation number if you need it.” 

“Ah, yes. Here it is! It’s under Benedict Cumberbatch,” Hallie confirmed. “I apologize for the misspelling. Is it Benedictine or Benedictina? I’ll also need to see your membership card so I can validate it being this is your first visit as an Ivy Club member.” 

_Benedictine? Bendictina? Hahaha! She thinks I’m the one who made the reservation._

“Neither. It _is_ Benedict, and I’m not him. Benedict is the member I’m checking in for. He’s on his way here now.” 

“I’m afraid I can’t let you check in for Mr. Cumberbatch,” said Hallie. “He has to do it himself.” 

“I don’t see why not. I just told you I have the confirmation number and…”

The man standing beside Hallie paused from shuffling through his paperwork and frowned at Donna over his reading glasses. 

“I’m so very sorry, Miss; but the rules state quite clearly that the actual Ivy Club member must be present in order to present his or her card. No one else is permitted to do it for them.”

“But he gave me the reservation confirmation number,” argued Donna. “Surely that should be good enough. I just spoke with him, and he’s on his way here from the tube. He should be here any minute.” 

Unfortunately, the mustached man stood his ground. “I regret that I have to ask you and your party to leave until Mr. Cumberspatch arrives.” 

“It’s Cumberbatch,” corrected Donna snidely. “Cumber-batch. I still don’t understand why we have to leave. Why can’t we just sit over there until he arrives?” 

The man looked at Donna as if she were a simpleton. “One must be an Ivy Club Member to use these facilities, Miss. Do you happen to be a member?” 

_No, but I’m Donna Saint James, Restaurant Critic for the London Tribune; and I’m now going to make it a point to do a review of this place and you will definitely get a mention in my review – albeit not a favorable one!_

“No, I’m not. As I explained, my parents and I are guests of Mr. Cumberbatch and…” 

“All guests must be in the company of a member. I’m truly, terribly sorry; but I must insist that you and your party leave the premises as soon as feasible.” 

_I fucking can’t believe this son of a bitch is throwing us out! He’s also enjoying it from the expression on his face._  

The man picked up the phone and spoke into it. Then he smiled thinly at Donna. 

“Edward will be in the lobby to assist you. You and your party will be welcome to come back up with Mr. Cumberbatch,” he said with a dismissive air. “Until then, may I suggest having a drink in the Ivy Restaurant next door.” 

Donna turned to see that there was now a short line behind her of annoyed and impatient-looking club members and their guests. Pointed glares followed Donna as she made her way back to her parents, who regarded her with quizzical expressions. 

“I sense something is wrong from the look on your face,” observed Toni. 

“He refuses to seat us until Benedict shows up with the actual membership card,” explained Donna. She glanced back over her shoulder in time to see the man at the desk watching her like a hawk as he greeted another couple. “In short, we’re not technically members, so we aren’t welcome here.” 

“Jesus Christ,” sighed Neil. “This is getting tiresome. I guess the only thing we can do is to have a seat and wait for Cumberbatch to show up.” 

“Wait!” said Donna, grabbing Neil’s arm as he started to walk away. “We can’t sit and wait here,” she whispered. 

“Why in the hell not?” demanded Neil, looking towards the desk. 

“We’ll order drinks if we have to,” chimed in Toni. 

“We were asked to leave,” whispered Donna, looking back over her shoulder to see the man had picked up the phone again. “Only card-carrying or known members are allowed in here. This is Benedict’s first visit as a member; so they have to activate his card. They don’t care that I have the reservation confirmation number.” 

“Oh, that’s ridiculous! Let me straighten this out!” exclaimed Toni. “There is no reason why we can’t wait up here. You can’t let some snooty peon at a podium push you around like that, Donna.” 

The elevator door slid open to reveal a doorman, wearing a bowler. He scanned the immediate area, and his eyes settled on Donna, Neil and Toni. 

“Shit! He’s come to toss us out!” hissed Donna. “Let’s go quietly and not make a scene – _please_!”

“Good evening,” said the doorman with a practiced smile. “May I collect your coats and escort you downstairs?” 

“No, you may not,” began Toni in a peevish tone of voice. 

“Antonia!” came a cultured-sounding British accent from behind them. “Wait, please!” 

Donna turned around to see Sir Anthony Hopkins rushing towards their group. He smiled at her mother and held out a small folding umbrella to her. The doorman stood there, clearly bewildered and not at all sure as to handle this new development. The man at the reception desk looked up in alarm upon seeing Sir Anthony Hopkins speaking with the people he was trying to have escorted out of the club.

“I’m so sorry to disturb you and your lovely family, but you left this on the sofa whilst we were chatting,” the award-winning actor said with a disarming smile.

“Thank you, Tony,” smiled Toni, accepting the umbrella from him and placing it in her handbag. “I would have sorely missed this. It’s just the perfect size to tuck into my purse.” 

“I also wanted to let you know that Stella and I still want to hold out for the full amount.” 

“Of course. That’s exactly what I would do if I were in your position,” agreed Toni. “We have plenty of evidence for a judge to decide in your favor.” 

“Brilliant then. We’re on the same page.” 

“Tony, this is my husband, Neil Saint James,” said Toni proudly.

The two men shook hands. 

“It’s a pleasure, Sir Anthony,” said Neil with a slight nod of his head. “You’re a credit to your profession.” 

“Thank you; but I’m going to have to say that this is only partly a pleasure, Mr. Saint James,” snickered Anthony Hopkins. “ I’ve been both the lucky and unlucky recipient of your reviews over the years.” 

Donna watched as her father lit up like a Christmas tree.

_Oh, Daddy does love when they acknowledge his poisoned pen. It makes his day. Oh, oh…here comes Mr. Moustache. He’s afraid we’re bothering one of the famous club members._

The man behind the desk began to move towards them with a clear look of concern on his ruddy face. He approached their group just in time to hear Toni’s introduction. Donna could see his moustache was twitching from nerves. 

“And this is our youngest daughter, Donna. You may have heard of her. Donna writes the Tasty Travels column for the London Tribune.”

_Oh, oh. Thanks to Mom, Mr. Moustache will now alert the kitchen that a food critic is in the house. The Executive Chef will then pull out all the stops to make sure the meal is perfect in every way and the service will be flawless._

Mr. Moustache smiled nervously at Donna and looked like he wanted to say something. Then he turned on his heel to join the doorman and began to speak quietly with him about the goings on. 

“Charmed, Donna,” said Anthony, kissing Donna’s hand. “Antonia has mentioned you often. She’s very proud of you. May I say that my wife and I are avid readers of your column. We greatly enjoyed the Cinnamon Club immensely based on your recommendation.” 

_Anthony Hopkins just kissed my hand, and he is a fan. I am humbled and will never wash that hand again. Wait until I tell Benedict, he’ll be so excited!_

“Thank you, Sir Anthony,” gushed Donna, as her huge handbag slid off of her shoulder and landed onto the Oscar-winning actor’s foot. Anthony Hopkins blinked and almost yelped in pain. 

_Shit! I just broke Anthony Hopkins’ foot. Why? Oh why does this happen to me?_  

“Donna!” exclaimed both Neil and Toni.

“My word, this is quite the heavy bag! Do you always fancy keeping lead in it?” the actor teased.

“Are you alright?” asked Donna worriedly. “We can get some ice. I’ve got an ice pack in my bag…” 

“Come and sit down so I can take a look at it,” offered Toni, clearly embarrassed. 

Neil impatiently waved the moustached man over in order to get some ice. Upon seeing that something was wrong, he almost tripped over himself in order to get to his member’s side. 

“What’s the trouble, Sir Anthony?” 

Everyone ignored him. 

“I’m so sorry, Sir Anthony!” exclaimed Donna. 

“Tony, please; and I’m fine, Donna. Really, I am. There’s no need to make a fuss. I was just more surprised by the sheer weight of that thing rather than any injury. I assure you nothing’s broken. It’s only a bit sore.” 

_Holy crap! That’s what Wanda said that time, and her instep was red and bruised. Benedict is right, time to retire my purse and start using a smaller one…but what will I do with all my stuff?_

“Excuse me, may I offer my assistance, Sir Anthony?” asked the man nervously. “Are you in need of medical attention?” 

Anthony shook his head. “I’m fine, Charles. I appreciate your asking.

“Anyway, let me not take up any more of your time. It was a pleasure to meet your lovely family, Antonia,” he said as he kissed her mother on both cheeks. “Have a most pleasant evening.” 

Toni drew herself up and regarded Charles as if he were nothing but a fly on the wall. “Don’t worry, Charles, we’re leaving,” she said haughtily. “We wouldn’t want to stay where we’re not welcome.”

“When I see Mr. Cumberbatch, I’m going to recommend that he withdraw his membership and take one out at Black’s,” said Neil. 

“And I’ll make sure to mention the lack of hospitality shown to the guests of members in my review,” added Donna with a smug smile. “Your name is Charles, correct?” 

The man’s face reddened.   He was clearly both embarrassed and surprised that Sir Anthony Hopkins apparently knew them. 

“I’ve just been notified that Mr. Cumberbatch called and instructed us to seat you immediately as he is just about here. I was coming over to let you know that your table is now ready. If you’ll be kind enough to follow me, please.” 

 

**********************************************************

  

Benedict Cumberbatch paused under the awning of the Ivy Club in order to close his umbrella as the doorman immediately opened the door for him. He caught a look at his reflection in one of the mirrored walls of the lobby – he looked disheveled and damp, which he was. 

“Good Evening, Sir! How may I assist you?” 

“I’ve got a booking for dinner,” Benedict replied, as the water dripped off his umbrella onto the white tiled flooring. “I’m a member,” he said digging out his wallet and presenting his membership card for the doorman to see. 

The doorman nodded his approval and handed Benedict a plastic sleeve for his wet umbrella and indicated the glass lift. “The dining room is on Level Two, Mr. Cumberbatch. You’ll be able to check your coat and umbrella there.” 

“Thank you,” said Benedict as he hurriedly entered the lift and pressed the button labeled 2. He removed his mac and unwound his scarf as the lift began its ascent. Again, he regarded his reflection in the mirrored walls. 

_I look like absolute shit! My feet are wet from stepping in all those fucking puddles and the bottom of my trousers are wet from being splashed by that speeding motherfucker of a cabbie. Look at my damn hair! It’s curling and won’t stay back. Christ!_  

Benedict raked his hand through his curls in a futile attempt to tame them and sighed in disgust as they fell back onto his forehead. 

_Donna and her parents must be so pissed off at me. I had no idea I was going to wind up being this late. Damn tube! Why does everything go wrong when it’s not supposed to?_  

The lift stopped at the second floor and the door slid open just in time for Benedict to see Donna and her parents following the maître-d into the smaller of the two dining rooms.   He quickly approached the reception desk and handed his membership card over to Hallie, who gave him a warm welcome, activated the card and informed him that his guests had been taken to the Library Room. 

 

*************************************************************

  

“Well, it’s a good thing they sat us here,” quipped Neil, as he gazed around the small, cozy dining room approvingly. “We can always read a book while we wait for Cumberbatch to grace us with his presence.” 

“These books are specially chosen for the club and donated by our members,” explained Charles proudly, as he handed out menus. “They reflect many of our members’ interests in art, literature, film, theatre, architecture and design.” 

“Most likely they were weeding out their book collections and donated them rather than toss them out,” scoffed Toni. “It’s still a noble gesture none the less.” 

“After dinner, you may wish to have a look around. Downstairs is a bar and our private dining rooms. Upstairs is a film screening room, the Loft Bar and a cigar terrace.”

“How long has the Club been open?” inquired Neil.

“We are celebrating our one year anniversary this month, Sir. Your server, Ellen, will be with you shortly.” 

Once Charles was out of ear shot, the three began to laugh. 

“Old Charles certainly changed his tune,” declared Donna. “I think he was a little intimidated by us.” 

“He’s probably afraid you’ll write something nasty about him in your review,” said Toni. 

“He should be,” said Donna seriously. “That’s not the way to treat people – regardless of membership status. I realize that people may say all sorts of crazy things to get in a place like this; but for God’s sake – I had the reservation confirmation number and Benedict was in their computer.”

“There was no one at the door when we arrived, anyone could have mistaken it for the Ivy entrance and just walked in like we did,” added Toni. “The right thing would have been to let us sit and wait up here.” 

“Charles is afraid of me,” smirked Donna with satisfaction. “However, I don’t want him to hate me. Benedict and I will be coming back here.” 

Neil patted Donna’s hand. “It’s good to be intimidating, Muffin.” 

“Nice room,” remarked Toni. “I like the fact that it’s fairly quiet in here. We can have a nice conversation.”

“More like interrogation,” muttered Donna under her breath. 

“Did you say something, Donna?” 

“I’m sorry that waiting for Benedict has been such an irritation to you both.” 

“We’ll chalk it up to a minor annoyance,” said Neil, opening the menu. “I think some appetizers are in order.” 

“Hmmm….lets see….the dressed Cornish crab sounds good,” said Toni, pondering the menu. “The crispy duck salad with watermelon and spicy cashews also sounds good. What do you think, Donna?” 

“I think we can wait a couple of more minutes for Benedict to join us!” snapped Donna looking towards the entrance to the dining room. “The maître-D said he was just about here.” 

“That could mean anything,” scoffed Neil. “I’m famished, and I’m done with waiting for Cumberbatch.” 

_There’s Benedict now!_  

Donna’s face broke out into a huge smile upon seeing Benedict rush towards the doorway and pause to look about. “And we can all stop worrying because here he is now!”   She raised her hand and waved at him. 

Neil and Toni reluctantly closed their menus and followed Donna’s gaze. There stood Benedict Cumberbatch in the doorway to the dining room, glancing around for them. The bottom of his trousers were wet, his curly auburn hair was in disarray, and he was wearing a red and black scarf around his neck. 

“Jesus, he looks rather… disheveled for such a swanky place,” observed Toni. “It’s not that cold in here to warrant a scarf.” 

“Stop sugar-coating it, Toni. The man looks a mess. You can say it,” laughed Neil. “He’s certainly the opposite of you, Donna, when it comes to appearances.” 

“He looks like someone who got caught in the rain,” hissed Donna. “Now, please stop criticizing and let’s show him how charming you both can be!” 

 

***********************************************************

 

Benedict spotted Donna waving at him. He got that warm, slightly fluttery feeling in his stomach that he always got whenever he laid eyes on her. Benedict was relieved to see that she and her parents were seated at a round table, in high-backed wing chairs, tucked away in a corner as he had requested when making the booking. He did not notice his mother’s good friend, Judi Dench and her partner, David Mills sitting in another corner and trying to attract his attention. 

_Thank God, they gave me a corner table! This way if things turn ugly, no one will pay much attention to us. How embarrassing it would be to be tossed out of the Ivy Club on my first visit. I have to get ahold of myself – they’re not going to do anything over the top. I hope. Okay, Benedict, its show time!_  

Benedict waved back at Donna and strode into the dining room and approached the table. A runner had already filled the water glasses and brought hot bread and butter to the table. Donna smiled up at him as he leant down to kiss her lightly on the lips. 

“Hello, Darling, my apologies for being so late.” 

“Hi yourself! I’m just happy you’re here.” 

Neil had risen from his seat and offered his hand to Benedict, who quickly shook it and gave the older man his most charming smile. 

“It’s nice to see you again, Neil.” _I’m going straight to hell for lying._

“Hello, Benedict. It’s nice to finally meet without an ocean between us.”

_The man lies through his teeth. He’d rather be anywhere else than here,_ thought Neil with amusement. 

“This is like having Skype come to life,” mused Toni, smiling up at Benedict. 

“How very nice to see you, Antonia. I must say that you are even lovelier in person,” smiled Benedict, as he sat down in between Donna and her mother. “I don’t know if anyone has told you this, but you really could pass for Donna’s sister.” 

Donna saw her mother’s eyes light up at the compliment. “Actually, you’re the first person to say that, Benedict.” 

_Mom likes that. Score one point for Benedict right off the bat._  

“Really? You don’t look a day past thirty.” 

_Okay, Ben Honey, you’re laying it on a little too thick now._  

“It’s nice of you to say, Benedict, but I last saw thirty quite some time ago. However, I do appreciate the compliment,” said Toni. 

“I truly meant it,” smiled Benedict. “You are very youthful-looking.”

_For God’s sake, I’ve got to sit here and listen to this bullshit artist all night!_ Thought Neil miserably _. I need to shut him up before he keeps going._  

“If you were a pub, you’d be named the Brown-Nosed Bull,” quipped Neil, rolling his eyes. “You can stop with the gratuitous compliments now, because it won’t serve to endear us to you.”

“I really didn’t mind, Dear,” said Toni. 

“Dad!” hissed Donna as she glared at her father. “He just got here!” 

_I can’t believe my father is starting in so soon! Benedict looks angry. I can tell by his eyes, they look darker._  

Benedict looked from Toni to Neil and then to Donna, who had blanched considerably. He shifted in his seat and looked directly at Neil. 

_Bloody hell! That didn’t take long. I just sat down and already he’s being snarky._  

“And I suppose if you were a pub, you’d be aptly named the Poison Pen,” shot back Benedict, eyes flashing angrily. 

Benedict felt Donna’s foot nudge his under the table. 

“Dad, can you please try and be civil…” 

Donna was surprised when Benedict nudged her back. 

_Sorry, Love. I’m not going to be sat here all night taking crap from the likes of him._

_He wants me to shut up and handle Dad himself._  

Neil chuckled, which surprised Donna. “Touche, Benedict. May I call you Ben?” 

“I personally prefer Benedict, but I don’t mind it the way I mind people trying to call me Benny. I detest Benny.” 

“I can understand that,” mused Neil. “I associate Benny with Benny Hill, who was not one of my favorites.”

Benedict smirked. “He wasn’t one of mine either.” 

“How about that? Something we agree on,” quipped Neil. “There’s hope for you yet, Ben.” 

“I was thinking the same about you,” retorted Benedict. 

_I’m not going to survive this dinner with them lobbing jabs back and forth,_ thought Donna. _Where in the hell is our server? I need to get this dinner over with as soon as humanly possible, so they can go back to my place ; and Ben and I can get back to Hampstead._  

Suddenly, as if she could read Donna’s mind, their server approached the table wearing a huge smile. 

“Good Evening! I’m Ellen, and I’ll be taking care of you tonight. Welcome to the Ivy Club, Mr. Cumberbatch. I understand this is your first visit as a member.” 

Benedict returned her smile as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, it is. Thank you.” 

“Can I get you something to drink?” 

“God, yes,” muttered Benedict under his breath. “Just bring the bottle and leave it.” 

_I thought she’d never ask_ , thought Neil. _I’m going to need a double to get through this dinner. I feel like I’m playing verbal tennis with this jerk._

“I’ll have a whiskey sour,” replied Donna. “Straight up, please.” 

“I’ll try an Espresso Martini,” said Toni. “Please tell the bartender to be generous with the vanilla syrup. I like it sweet.” 

“What are you drinking, Ben?” inquired Neil, folding his hands on the tabletop.

“The Ivy makes a brilliant whiskey sour,” replied Benedict. “Care to join me? I take it on the rocks.” 

“Make that two whiskey sours on the rocks,” instructed Neil. 

“Would you like me to put in an order for any starters?” offered Ellen. 

“Go ahead and order,” Benedict said to Donna and her parents. “I just need a minute with the menu.” 

“I’ll have the crispy duck salad with water melon and spicy cashews ,” said Toni. 

_With the dressing on the side,_ thought Donna with amusement. 

“With the dressing on the side, please,” added Toni. 

_Mom never disappoints me._  

“Go ahead, Muffin,” said Neil. 

“Tea smoked short ribs for me,” said Donna. “Get something we can share,” she whispered to Benedict. 

“And for you, Sir?” Ellen asked Neil. 

“I want something I can’t get back home, so I’ll have the Dressed Cornish Crab.”   

“How does the Burrata with datterini sound to you, _Muffin_?” asked Benedict with a twinkle in his eye. 

“Shut up, Ben!” Donna snarled under her breath. “It sounds good to me.” 

“You can get mozzarella and tomato salad anywhere,” declared Toni. 

Donna stared pointedly at her mother. “We like cheese, Mother.” 

“Would you fancy the steak tartare instead?” Benedict asked Donna.

“Yes. Let’s share that instead.” 

_Oh shit. I shouldn’t have said yes. Here comes the raw meat lecture._  

“You do realize that’s raw meat you’re ingesting,” frowned Toni. “Has the Mad Cow Disease been contained?” she asked the waitress. 

“Yes, Madame. That was years ago. All of our meat products must pass a rigid inspection and are only procured from the finest meat purveyors in London.” 

“The steak tartare then please,” said Benedict with a smile. “I’ll take my chances.” 

“Very good, Mr. Cumberbatch. I’ll get these right in.” 

Donna watched as the server disappeared. _She must think we’re nuts, and she’d be right._  

“I certainly wouldn’t take any chances eating raw meat, especially being you just got over a case of food poisoning,” Toni said to Benedict. 

_Bloody hell! Donna must have told her about the oyster I ate in Cornwall._  

Benedict side-eyed Donna, whose face reddened, and she shrugged. 

“You’re quite an adventurous eater,” Neil smiled thinly as he buttered a chunk of the sour dough. “Or a stupid one,” he muttered under his breath. “Who eats tainted oysters knowingly?” 

_I heard that, Wanker. You think I didn’t, but I did._

Benedict stared at Neil."You may be surprised to learn that I happen to have excellent hearing," he said in a low voice that was only audible to the older man.

Neil met his gaze and smirked.  "All the better to take direction with,"  he said in an equally low voice. "An actor with poor hearing will miss his cues every time."

Toni and Donna were both straining to hear the conversation between Benedict and Donna.  Benedict decided to try and make light of the comment. 

“I just like to live dangerously, Neil,” laughed Benedict. “I’m a bit of an adrenalin junkie if you must know.” 

_No, Benedict! They don’t need to know that…though they already know about the motorcycle, which they don’t approve of._  

“How nice for you and how not nice for my daughter,” sneered Neil. 

“Is your life insurance paid up?” asked Toni, taking a small piece of bread from the basket and passing it to Donna. 

_What fresh hell is this? Life insurance? What bollocks the mother has! Blimey! Adam will never believe this. I wish I had a tape recorder._  

“Stop it, Mom,” hissed Donna. 

“Being you’re not my beneficiary, Antonia, you need not be concerned with that.” 

_Your daughter is not my beneficiary should something happen to me - my parents are. When Donna and I get engaged, I’ll change it._

“I’m sure if they get married, Benedict will do the right thing and make sure Donna is properly taken care of should he die before her,” said Neil. _"_

_Donna wasn’t kidding about them. Christ, my feet are soaked from the puddles. I’ve got to take these bloody shoes off so my socks can have a chance to dry out._

Benedict toed his shoes off and decided it was time to change the subject but Donna beat him to it. 

“This change in weather was quite unexpected,” she said pleasantly, taking a bite of bread. “It got so cold, so quickly.” 

“I’m lucky to have gotten here at all between the tube carriage breakdown and all this wind and rain,” declared Benedict. 

“We’ve been truly blessed,” snickered Neil, taking a sip of water. 

“I feel just awful that dinner was so delayed,” continued Benedict. “I didn’t want you to have to wait for me.” 

"We had no intention of waiting, but our daughter insisted we wait for you," snapped Neil. 

“Neil's right. We hadn’t planned to,” added Toni. “We were actually just about to order when you came in.” 

“To be frank, Ben, you made us wait long enough as it was with such a late dinner reservation,” began Neil. 

“I believe I already explained that I couldn’t make it any earlier due to other personal commitments,” interrupted Benedict. 

“Such as?” shot back Neil. 

“None of your fucking business,” snapped Benedict, nostrils flaring. 

“Maybe so, but does the word ‘compromise’ ring a bell?” 

“Funny. I was about to ask you the same thing, Neil?” 

“I thought our reasons for requesting an earlier dinner were valid,” chimed in Toni. 

“Well, I disagreed at the time and still do,” retorted Benedict.

_They are such bastards. Think it, but don’t say it! I can’t believe my Donna is a product of their loins. No wonder she moved to London. It was self-defense._

Donna sat frozen in her chair, unable to speak as she watched the verbal sparring. _This is my worst nightmare! They’re sniping at each other in public._

Toni held up a slim hand in order to silence Benedict. Benedict noticed the huge, glittering, marquise-shaped diamond solitaire on her hand and stared. 

_Christ! That motherfucker must be at least five carats! I don’t know how she can lift her hand._

“Compromise is an art, Benedict,” Toni said. “And apparently one that you’re not familiar with. I’m going to chalk that up to your being an only child.” 

_That’s it! I’ve got to take control here before we have an all out war!_ Thought Donna. 

Donna banged the table so hard with her fist that all the place settings jumped and the water sloshed out of their glasses onto the table. Benedict had been so startled that he dropped the chunk of bread he had been holding onto his bread plate, which now had a small puddle of ice water in it.

“That’s quite enough!” barked Donna, mopping up some of the spilled water with her napkin. “In the end it doesn’t matter how we all got here or what time some of us would have preferred or not preferred to eat. We’re all here now to have a nice get acquainted dinner; so let’s dispense with the bickering and do that, shall we?” 

“Donna!” exclaimed Toni. “There’s no reason to make a scene. We were just having a…a…” 

“Spirited conversation,” finished Benedict, nose in the air. 

“My ass you were,” hissed Donna angrily, grabbing Benedict’s napkin off his lap and getting up from her chair to sop up more of the water. 

“Sit down, Donna,” commanded Benedict, pulling her back down into her seat by the waistband of her skirt. “They have people to do that.” 

Donna stared at him. “That was an argument if I ever heard one.” 

“I beg to differ. You obviously haven’t had the opportunity to witness many arguments then,” snickered Benedict. 

Donna hesitated and pondered his words. “You’re right. We rarely argue, and they rarely argue,” she said looking pointedly at her parents. 

“That’s a good thing in a relationship,” mused Neil. “It means you’re both on the same page like Mom and I usually are.” 

Toni smiled at Benedict. “Spirited conversation,” she repeated. “I like that, Benedict.” 

_I’m chuffed as fuck that she likes something._

Benedict looked down at his bread plate and frowned. “My plate is full of water. My bread is soaked, and it smelled so good. It’s so late, and I’m positively starving.” 

Neil looked up from buttering another chunk of bread. Donna felt a twitch in her right eye. _Oh. No. Dad’s going to run with that._  

“I thought you _like_ to eat late,” said Neil slyly as Ellen brought their drinks and starters. “Didn’t you have something to tide you over?  Being you were so adamant that Toni and I have a snack, I surely thought you would have taken your own advice.” 

“Could we please have some more bread and butter?” Benedict asked meekly. 

“Of course, Mr. Cumberbatch. Oh, my! Let me get someone to mop up this water and bring some fresh serviettes,” said Ellen. “I’m so sorry.” 

“I’m the one who should be sorry,” admitted Donna. “It was my fault.” 

“No worries, Miss. We’ll get it all sorted out. I’ll be back shortly to check on you,” said Ellen. “Enjoy.” 

“What shall we drink to?” asked Neil raising his glass. 

“A dry table,” quipped Donna. _And speedy service, so we can end this._  

_The next week passing by quickly_ , thought Benedict. 

“How about drinking to new beginnings,” suggested Toni. 

“I’d prefer to drink to quick endings,” muttered Benedict grumpily. 

“Amen,” agreed Neil Saint James, as he clinked glasses with Benedict Cumberbatch.  “You’re not the only one with good hearing, Cumberbatch.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. This was Chapter 100. Quite a milestone. I can barely believe I wrote that many so far. LOL!
> 
> 2\. Next week I'll be out of town, so the next chapter will be posted on the 20th.
> 
> 3\. In 2009, Patrick Stewart starred with Ian McKellen in Waiting for Godot.
> 
> 4\. I personally love Anthony Hopkins and wanted to include him in Donna's little mishap. 
> 
> 5\. The staff at the Ivy is very nice and considerate.
> 
> 6\. Happy Labor Day to all who celebrate.


	101. Chapter 101

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dinner at the Ivy Club – Part 3. Benedict uses his ammunition to prove a point to Toni as the tension increases and tempers flare. Wanda and Timothy get play-by-play text messages from her friend. 
> 
> Note: I’m going to use ********** for things happening at the same time

 

Donna Saint James was relieved that they were able to eat the appetizers without further sniping between Benedict and her parents. After ordering their entrees, she was easily able to steer the conversation to food and her job. In order to facilitate Donna’s impromptu review, the four had agreed to share their appetizers.

_Hmmm…I notice Mom and Dad are not grilling Benedict like I expected them to. I guess Mom’s investigators dug up enough information on him that they already know everything there is to know about him. I’m sure they know more that I do about Benedict at this point. Mom’s already proven that she knows a great deal about him.  
_

“Are you certain your editor won’t be annoyed that you decided to review the Ivy Club rather than the restaurant you reviewed on Thursday?” asked Benedict.

Donna nodded as she cut off a piece of the short rib. “Absolutely. Eric gives us carte-blanche to change our minds at the last minute. I’ll just use my review of The Bountiful Cow next week.”

“The Bountiful Cow,” repeated Neil with amusement. “Now, that sounds like something you picked just because you liked the name.”

“No,” said Donna slowly. “I heard it was good and wanted to try it.”

Benedict began to laugh. “Who said it was good?”

_No one told me. I thought the name was cute. He’s still teasing me about it._

Donna stared at Benedict, willing him to go back to his appetizer; but it didn’t work.

_Damn! He’s going to tell them, isn’t he?_

“No one told you that I know of. We were online searching for a public house with decent steaks to try and this place came up in the results,” explained Benedict. “The minute Donna saw the name, she said: Oh, Ben, what a cute name for a pub! We just have to try it!   Ergo, we did.”

Neil and Toni laughed uproariously at Benedict’s spot on imitation of Donna.

_That sounded a little too much like me. It’s frightening just how good he is at imitations._

“That’s our girl!” giggled Toni, sipping her drink. “Well, was it any good, Muffin?”

“Actually, yes, it was,” replied Donna. “I wish you both could have seen their service station! It was a life-sized wooden cow! It would look so cute in a kitchen.” Donna pulled out her cellphone and scrolled through her photos. “You can judge for yourselves…ah! Here she is! Isn’t she adorable?”

Neil and Toni studied the photo and nodded in agreement.

“Are you considering buying one like it?” inquired Neil. “It looks custom made to me. I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

“What’s the point, Dad? I’m not in a position to buy something like that right now. Besides you forget that I’m just subletting my apartment. Just about everything in it belongs to Marco.”

“It really would be perfect in a country kitchen,” remarked Toni. “You could call them up and make an inquiry. I’m sure they would be happy to tell you where they got it.”

“I have nowhere to put it in Marco’s apartment,” said Donna sadly. “I’d have to store it somewhere until I…well, you know…put down more permanent roots again.”

_But I thought to inquire about it when you went to the loo,_ thought Benedict smugly _. I’ve got the name of the carpenter who makes them; and as soon as we decide on where to put down permanent roots, I’m going to order one for our home. I’ll have to make sure we buy a place with a large enough kitchen to put the bloody thing in.  
_

“You could always have it shipped to New York. There’s plenty of room in your townhouse,” suggested Neil.

“Oh yes!” exclaimed Toni. “It will definitely go with your décor.”

_What a surprise they are going to get when they find out she’s staying in London permanently once we’re married. I remember every word of that conversation we had in the Golden Fleece that night,_ thought Benedict.

Benedict smiled widely. “Would you like to hear The Bountiful Cow’s motto? It’s quite catchy.”

“Please do,” invited Neil. “I have a feeling it’s going to be a corker.”

“Oh, it is,” Benedict assured him. “Our beef isn’t stroppy on the plate.”

Neil and Toni burst out into a fit of giggles.

“There really is something to that,” said Donna. “Supposedly, animals that are well cared for and killed humanely will taste better than those that aren’t.”

“That motto reminds me of Donna and Carly’s new slogan: Lip smackin’ satisfaction,” giggled Toni.

“No one likes it,” said Donna sulkily. “Everyone thinks it’s corny.”

Benedict smirked. “That’s because it bloody well is. Even Steve agreed with me.”

“Do you two think it’s corny?” Donna asked her parents.

Neil and Toni exchanged glances and regarded their daughter before speaking.

“Of course not,” insisted Neil. “I think it’s very catchy.”

“It’s very creative, Muffin. Did you think of that on your own?” inquired Toni.

_I knew they would like it. Benedict and Steve wouldn’t know a catchy slogan if it bit them in the ass_.

_Ah, parents, bless them. They lie in order not to hurt their child’s feelings. I could see Donna and I doing that one day to our child,_ thought Benedict _. I know full well Mum and Dad have done it with me on occasion._

Donna gave Benedict a smug smile as if to say ‘See’ before answering her mother. “Yes, I did. We’re having it printed on our business cards and bags.”

“Christ,” murmured Benedict. “I never would have done that.”

Donna shot him a withering glance. “I don’t recall asking for your opinion.”

Neil’s index finger ever-so-slightly grazed Toni’s wrist.

_Oh, Jesus! Now, they think Benedict and I don’t get along all that wonderfully. Why did I open my big mouth and be so damn snotty to him? I’m being too sensitive about it. If Carly and I like the slogan, then that’s what counts. Benedict can poke all the fun he wants to at it – we’re not changing our minds.  
_

_Hmmm…I notice that the father and mother exchange very subtle touches when one of us says something they disagree with. They apparently didn’t care for Donna’s snarky comment to me about the wacky slogan.  
_

“People will remember that phrase when they see it,” pointed out Neil.

“Sometimes you have to be a little silly to make an impression – not that your slogan is silly, Donna – it’s like Ben using his real surname rather than a stage name.”

Benedict frowned at Neil over the rim of his cocktail glass. _Did the wanker just refer to my name as ‘silly’? I suppose it is, but still…  
_

“I wouldn’t call Cumberbatch silly, Dad,” said Donna defensively.

“You might not, but there are a lot of people who do – myself included,” laughed Benedict. “When I first started out, I was Ben Carlton. I had decided to use the same surname my dad uses; but I wasn’t getting very far. So when I switched over to Conway van Velder Grant, my new agent, John, suggested I ditch Ben Carlton as a stage name and revert back to my entire given name. I thought Benedict Cumberbatch sounded a bit bumbly and messy, but John said it’s a great name, it will get people talking about you.”

“And he’s right,” mused Neil, drawing a small circle on the table cloth with his index finger. “Ben Carlton is an ordinary name, but Benedict Cumberbatch is an extraordinary one. It may sound silly, but it peaks your curiosity and demands your attention because it’s so unique. It’s one people will remember.”

Donna and Benedict both dropped their forks onto their respective plates with a clatter.

“Holy cow! I’m such a butterfingers today!” blurted out Donna.

_Did Daddy just say Benedict’s name was extraordinary? I must have been hearing things.  
_

“Please forgive my lack of manners,” said Benedict. “I wasn’t expecting you to say that, Neil.”

_Fuck me! I was fully expecting a Cumberpatch or Cumperpatch or Cucumberbatch joke. He done fooled me.  
_

Neil actually smiled warmly at Benedict. “It seems to have worked. Donna tells us your dance card is quite full at the moment and you’re lobbying for the lead in the revival of Terrance Rattigan’s _After the Dance_. That would be a coup for you if you can get it. David Scott-Fowler is a role you could really sink your teeth into.”

_Is my hearing okay or is Daddy actually having a conversation with Benedict and seems to be supporting him.  
_

_This is just too surreal, and I’ve only had one drink.  
_

“I intend to give it my best shot,” said Benedict. “My agent got me an audition for next week.”

“Well, I hope you get it,” said Neil.

_This is truly terrifying. He just wished me well. The other shoe has got to drop soon. This dinner has been like riding a roller coaster so far._

The table was silent while they continued eating their appetizers. _  
_

“These tea-smoked ribs are delicious,” commented Donna. “I was afraid the sauce would be too sweet, but it’s perfect. What do you all think?”

Benedict finished chewing and swallowed. “I really fancy the daikon radish slaw. It manages to retain its crunch while dressed, and the sesame seeds add a nice, nutty taste.”

Neil set down his fork and looked from Benedict to Donna and back again. “Has she been training you in the fine art of critiquing food? You sound just like her!”

Donna laughed and patted Benedict’s forearm. “Benedict’s my right-hand critic. He reviews things I normally wouldn’t touch.”

“Which isn’t all that much,” added Benedict with a sly smile. “You’ve been known to put just about anything into your mouth.”

_Owww! That was not a pat - that was a pinch!_

“Donna’s never been a fussy eater,” remarked Toni. “She always ate whatever I put in front of her.”

Neil chuckled. “Out of our three kids, Donna’s the only one who was never afraid of trying new things – eel, octopus, raw oysters, Rocky Mountain oysters...”

“Beg pardon, but what are Rocky Mountain oysters?” inquired Benedict with a frown. “I’m not familiar with that variety.”

“You’re very familiar with the _human_ variety,” giggled Donna.

“Rocky Mountain oysters is a euphemism for bulls’ testicles,” snorted Neil.   “Our Donna will swallow anything!”

_Not everything,_ thought Benedict, side-eyeing his lover. _I can personally vouch for that._

“Hmmm…I wouldn’t say she swallows _everything_ ,” snickered Benedict, flashing a cheeky smile at Donna. “But when something’s not to her taste, she does manage to get most things down with a little creativity, bless her. I believe the last time that happened, you used chocolate mints or was it the pineapple juice, Love? No. Wait. I was the one drinking the pineapple juice that time…”

_You are such a wiseass, Benedict – and so brave in front of my parents! Look at their faces; they know damn well what you mean. Double entendre is not lost on them.  
_

“…yeah. I definitely was the one…Yow!”

_FUCK! Donna just kicked me. The woman has no sense of humour at times.  
_

Neil cleared his throat and exchanged glances with his wife, who moved her wrist against his. He smiled thinly. “Speaking of short ribs…”

“I wasn’t,” snorted Benedict under his breath. He quickly moved his foot far from Donna’s reach.

_The bastard moved his foot. Damn him!  
_

“…I think these are out of this world.”

“The meat is too fatty for my taste,” countered Toni. “I still have one that I haven’t touched. Would you like it, Neil?”

“Yes, please.”

Benedict once again stole a look at Donna’s mother as she forked over the uneaten meat to her husband. He studied the remaining bare bone on her plate in utter fascination.

_Bloody hell! There isn’t a shred of meat clinging to that bone. I’ve never seen anyone cut meat off a bone as precisely as she does. The woman could be a bloody surgeon, for fucks sake. Mum would have picked it up and eaten it off the bone in half the time with the same result. Hahaha!  
_

“Care for some more of my raw meat, Love?” Benedict asked Donna with a huge grin.

_Oh, part of me does like when he needles Mom like that.  
_

Donna winked at him. “No thanks, I’ve lived dangerously enough for one day.”

Benedict reached over and patted her hand reassuringly. She noticed that he allowed it to linger there as her parents looked on. Then he gave it a quick squeeze before returning his attention to his steak tartare.

“I think this duck salad is delicious,” commented Toni. “I like the dressing.”

_How would she know what that dressing tastes like? She’s barely dipped her fork tines in it,_ thought Benedict with amusement. _Mum would have poured the whole cup of dressing over her salad and asked for some more._

Suddenly, Toni looked down at her lap and sighed audibly. “Damn. I dropped my napkin.” She scooted her chair back and started to bend down to retrieve it. "Excuse me."

"Let me," said Neil, starting to push back his chair.

"I can do it, Dear.  Enjoy your ribs."

Benedict felt panic rising in his throat. _Fuck! I’ve got my bloody shoes off! She’ll think I’m crackers sat here with my shoes off!  
_

_Mom’s going to see that I took my shoes off, but she’s used to me doing that. These damn heels hurt my feet. I really do need to chuck them when I get to Hampstead later._

“Allow me to get it, Antonia! I see it. It’s closer to me than it is to you,” insisted Benedict, moving back suddenly and ducking under the table, while trying in vain to stuff his feet back inside his still damp shoes.

_Shit! I should have untied them first. I really do need to shop around for some slip on shoes that fit properly so I don’t have this problem_.

“Thank you, but I’ve already got it, Ben,” said Toni as their hands met under the table.   She paused to do a double take at Benedict’s sock clad feet, as he let go of the napkin. _He’s wearing socks with owls on them, and the owls appear to be dressed up for New Year’s Eve_. “What the heck?”  

Benedict’s ice blue eyes met Toni’s brown ones as she covered her mouth to keep from laughing out loud.

“My, aren’t you a dandy!” she exclaimed. “Are those owls I see on your socks?”

_Fucked again…and again…and again. Perhaps tonight I can get fucked the proper way._

“Oh, crap. Do these have owls on them? I…I…erm… hadn’t noticed,” stammered Benedict, face beet red.

“I see owls scattered about on them,” chortled Toni. “Owls wearing party hats and noisemakers on a background of confetti and streamers! Isn’t it a bit early to be celebrating the New Year?”

“Yeah…erm… I didn’t intend to wear these tonight….erm… I hadn’t noticed. I just pulled them out of the dryer, I’m afraid,” said a horrified Benedict. “They’re my house socks,” he added hopefully. _Maybe she’ll fall for the old ‘they are my house socks’ line._

“Stop trying to cover up the fact that those were the only clean socks you had left,” scoffed Toni. “I know that trick. My son was famous for it before he got married.”

“I really didn’t notice the motherfucking owls. I just saw the swirls and dots and thought they would add a dash of color to my otherwise drab ensemble,” laughed Benedict nervously.

“They’re going to wonder what we’re doing down here,” smiled Toni.

Benedict started to duck back out when he caught sight of Donna’s shoeless feet. He was able to clearly see her nail art through her nude stockings.

“As you can see, Antonia, I’m not the only one airing out my feet tonight. Donna’s feet must be hurting in those blasted high heels,” said Benedict, pointing to his beloveds exposed feet.

“What does my daughter have on her toes this time? Are those cupcakes?”

Benedict snorted. “Rather appropriate for a food critic, wouldn’t you say?”

Meanwhile, Donna looked at her father over the rim of her glass as she sipped her drink. His face wore a bemused expression as the sound of Benedict and Toni’s laughter filled their ears.

“Well, at least they aren’t arguing,” she mused with a shrug.

“What in the hell are they doing under there?” asked Neil. “How long does it take to pick up a damn napkin?”

Donna bent down and pulled up the table cloth. Benedict and her mother were squatting on the floor half under the table.   “Hello? Are you two going to come up for air or shall I ask them to serve your entrees down there so you can continue your discussion?”

Benedict and Toni both popped up and resumed their positions at the table. Donna noticed they were both smiling widely at each other.

“Erm…Antonia and I were just having a bit of a giggle,” said Benedict, running his hand through his hair.

“We were just admiring Benedict’s whimsical choice of socks and your culinary toenail art,” snickered Toni.

“I thought you had different toe nail art,” began Benedict. “Skulls…”

“They chipped, so I had to have them redone,” said Donna quickly.

Neil quickly stole a peek under the table as Benedict jammed his feet back into his shoes.

“Why I’ll be damned! You’re wearing socks with owls on them…with party hats and noisemakers.”

“OH, Ben! Are you wearing the New Year’s socks or your birthday socks?” asked Donna, covering her mouth to stop herself from laughing.

“My feet got wet on the walk over here, so I took off my shoes in order to give my socks a chance to dry,” explained Benedict.

Donna moved her chair in order to get a clear look at Benedict’s feet.

“You _are_ wearing the New Year’s socks! Those are one of my favorite pairs.”

“You have more of these…owl socks?” inquired Neil, trying in vain not to laugh and not succeeding. “You really are into wildlife.”

“I know it must look ridiculous…” began Benedict.

Neil nodded solemnly. “That it does.”

“Stop being mean, Dad. Benedict just ran out of clean socks,” said Donna. “He’s been busy and…”

“I appreciate your coming to my defense, Darling; but actually, I’m not only caught up with my laundry but in a fib as well,” corrected Benedict gently. He looked at Toni and Neil. “I _wanted_ to wear them this time is all. My mother is an avid collector of barn owls, so it’s kind of a joke between us. Every Christmas she tucks a couple of owl-themed socks into my Christmas stocking – the more outlandish they are, the better.”

“How unusual,” commented Toni with a bemused expression. “Does your mother have many owls?”

_Mom doesn’t think it’s unusual. She thinks its nuts. I can tell by the expression on her face._

Benedict paused for a moment. “Quite a few.”

“I didn’t know you could have an owl sanctuary in London,” remarked Neil.

“I would have thought there were regulations about keeping pet owls in London…unless your parents have a special dispensation to keep them up on their roof,” chimed in Toni.

_Oh, for fucks sake! Not only do they probably think I’m barmy; but Mum as well. Why does everyone assume she keeps live owls?_

“They’re stuffed owls,” clarified Benedict wearily. “Mum finds them at Portobello Road Market, jumble sales and the like. She keeps them on display in our country retreat in the Cotswolds.”

Toni touched the sleeve of Neil’s shirt ever-so-slightly.

_Ah HA! Something Mom didn’t know! I love it!_ Thought Donna with glee. _That investigator is in big trouble._

“Oh, so your parents own a home in the English countryside in addition to the one they own in Greece?” Toni inquired nonchalantly as their plates were cleared away by the busboy.

_What the fuck? She knows about their holiday home in Greece, but didn’t know about the one in Gloucestershire. Her investigator must have been having a lie down and missed that._

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck and side-eyed Donna. “Erm…yeah. They do. They like to split their free time between the two – Greece in the winter and the Cotswolds in the summer.”

“And Kensington is their permanent residence,” stated Toni.

“Kensington is a nice area,” declared Neil. “But it wasn’t always like that.”

“The value of property in Kensington has increased quite substantially. Your parents’ apartment must be worth well over a million by now easy,” said Toni, trying to gauge Benedict’s reaction.

“Not quite,” said Benedict. “But close enough. They originally bought it for next to nothing back in the 1970’s when the borough of Kensington was absolute shite. It’s gentrified quite nicely since those days and considered a very fashionable area now, as your husband just pointed out.”

“Excuse me, but would you care to order some wine with your mains, Mr. Cumberbatch,” inquired the sommelier, who had appeared from behind him.

_This is why I like facing the room. They tend to sneak up on you. Oh fuck me! Time to play pick the appropriate wine game,_ thought Benedict sadly. _Time to let her parents see how uncouth I am when it comes to fine wines.  
_

_Poor, Benedict. He stresses so when ordering wine. I told him to stick with a rose, which will go with everything,_ thought Donna. _If I try to help him, he’s going to look at it as interfering and get pissed off at me. I suppose I’ll have to let him flounder.  
_

Benedict felt a slight twitch in his left eye as he smiled up at the sommelier. “Erm..yeah; but I need a couple of minutes yet to review the wine list.”

“As you wish, Mr. Cumberbatch,” said the man, disappearing from view.

“Real estate can be a worthwhile investment,” commented Neil, returning to the topic at hand. “You just have to know when the market is right. I understand you own your own apartment in an old two family Victorian home in Hampstead, Ben. That’s north of London, isn’t it?”

_Of course you know where I live, you cheeky bastard. Your wife has done her homework on me or Donna’s mentioned it. Stop trying to pretend that you don’t know in order to make conversation_ … _unless this is going to lead elsewhere._ _I’m growing weary of this faux interrogation. Christ! Is this how others feel when I’m the one asking the questions? If so, I need to learn to temper myself._

“I thought you already knew that,” retorted Benedict, with a flash of mild annoyance. “You seem to know everything else about me.”

Neil looked directly at his wife as he sipped some of his drink. Toni smiled sweetly at Benedict.

“If you invest some money into renovating your apartment, the value will increase exponentially, Benedict,” she suggested. “I realize you don’t have all that much saved to spend on something like this, nor would I recommend taking out a home improvement loan at this time.”

“Excuse me?” asked Benedict incredulously.

_I think this has gone quite far enough.  
_

Benedict could hear Adam’s words in his head:

**_“Don’t let these motherfuckers make you feel like a piece of shit because you aren’t! Stand up for what you believe in and call them out on any shit they try and dish out to you.”_ **

“Well, your financials are …how shall I put this? On the lean side, Benedict. Your investment portfolio is very conservative – what there is of it; but you don’t have much in the way of savings.”

“But your credit report came up with a very high score, which was a pleasant surprise,” added Neil.

“Oh was it now? How lovely for you,” said Benedict, voice dripping with sarscasm.

Donna immediately recognized the danger signals.

_Time to intervene. Benedict looks as if he’s had enough of the Neil and Toni Show, and I can’t say that I blame him._

“Benedict, please stay calm, Honey,” whispered Donna urgently. The she addressed her mother: “Um…Mom, I think Benedict is already familiar with where his lives and his financial standing.”

Benedict could visualize Dennis’ text message in his head:

**I thought that was the idea – to have some sort of ammunition if they start to give you a rough time yes?**

Donna watched as Benedict set his lips in a thin line, his nostrils flared, and eyes flashed. She reached out to pat his arm, but he shrugged it off violently.

_Oh, shit. He’s angry. She just pushed him over the top._

“You really did have the bollocks to run credit reports on me and hire investigators to dig up information on me for fucks sake,” he said in a deadly low voice.

“Of course we did,” shot back Toni matter-of-factly. “You’ve been very upfront that your intentions towards our daughter are serious; so it’s our duty as her parents to make sure you aren’t trying to take advantage of her.”

“Why in the fuck would I take advantage of Donna?” demanded Benedict loudly. "I'm in love with her and want to make a life with her one day!"

“Benedict! Please! Not here. People are looking,” whispered Donna urgently, tugging at his sleeve. “Let me handle them.”

Benedict turned his icy glare on her. “No. You won’t. This is between me and them.” His voice sent chills up her spine.

“We don’t need to be handled, young lady,” admonished Neil.

“I’m not a young lady, Dad – I’m a grown woman, and this is the man I want to spend the rest of my life with – whether or not you both approve, so get used to it. I insist that this bullshit stop NOW!” growled Donna. “Or we’re leaving.”

“I really don’t care for that tone of voice, Donna Marie Saint James,” snapped Toni petulantly.

“I don’t care if you do or not, Mom.”

“Frankly, you deserved that, Antonia, if I may chime in,” began Benedict.

“No, you may not chime in. You’re not a member of this family,” snarled Neil.

Toni looked at Donna incredulously. “Are you really going to sit there and let him to talk to us like that, Muffin?”

“Are you, _Muffin_?” taunted Benedict under his breath.

“Yes, Mom! I am, because Benedict is not wrong and you are,” said Donna indignantly. “You have no right to unleash your investigators in order to dig up personal and what should be private information on him.  Then you have the unmitigated gall to sit here trying to intimidate him, which I think you see did not succeed. And you know what? I’m full. Let’s go Benedict,” Donna tossed her napkin onto the table and gathered up her handbag in order to make a hasty exit.

_Hells bells! I am so relieved that Donna didn’t cave in and supported me instead.  that must have been hard for her to do, but she's extremely angry right now.  I think the words just flowed out of her mouth. In any case, well done her for standing up to them._

“Sounds like a splendid idea,” agreed Benedict as he violently shoved back his chair into the food runner who had just appeared out of the blue with his and Donna’s entrees. The tray with the plates clattered onto the floor, gaining the attention of the whole dining room.

_NOOOOOOOOO! Everyone’s looking at us_ , thought Donna miserably.

_It somehow seems appropriate that this happened to me,_ thought Benedict. _Why not announce to the whole bloody room that we’re leaving. We’ll probably get a standing ovation._

“Well, nothing like a little entertainment to go with dinner,” scoffed Neil. He looked at a second food runner, who had also appeared carrying a tray. “I believe those entrees belong to my wife and I. Please serve them.”

Benedict surreptitiously surveyed the dining room about him and his ice blue eyes landed on a table for two across the room. There sat Dame Judi Dench and her partner David Mills. He could feel his face redden further as he furiously rubbed the back of his neck.

_Fuck me! That’s Judi and David sat across the room. Shit! The minute she leaves she’s going to call Mum and tell her what transpired here tonight. It’s as if Mum sent her own spy…I wonder?  
_

Two bus boys immediately came to clean up the mess on the floor. The second food runner stood as if frozen and appeared to be torn as to what he should do with the food on his tray.

“You can serve the food now, please,” repeated Neil. “They are just leaving,” he added indicating the still fuming Donna and anxious-looking Benedict.

_You right wanker! On second thought, I really fancy my bloody sweetbreads!_ _I’ve been thinking about them all day!_ Thought Benedict, anger rapidly replacing his embarrassment. _The_ y _look so damn good there lying on the floor._

“No, we’re not!” countered Benedict abruptly. “We’re staying and having our dinner.”

Donna blinked and stared at Benedict as he held out her chair for her to sit back down.

“I thought we were leaving!”

“It’s a gentleman’s prerogative to change his mind.”

“I thought it was a _woman’s_ prerogative,” snickered Neil.

“And I’ve played enough of them. So be it,” retorted Benedict. “Any man who has taken on roles as fairy queens and French maids has earned his right to change his bloody mind.”

Donna’s mother began to titter at Benedict’s comment and glanced at her husband under her eyes. Neil covered his mouth with his fingertips as he regarded Benedict with merriment in his eyes.

“I have to be honest, here, Ben. I can’t picture you with fairy wings,” he quipped.

“Oh, I can!” laughed Toni. “And a wand. Did you have wand?”

Benedict blinked. “Why…erm…yeah…I did as a matter of fact though I far preferred the French maid costume. It gave me the opportunity to learn how to walk in heels properly, and I’m quite good at it if I must say so myself,” he chuckled.

Donna’s eyes went from one to the other, mouth agape. “What is happening here?”

“I believe it’s called ‘defusing a volatile situation’,” replied Neil. “How about we call a truce, Ben?”

Benedict nodded his agreement. “Truce.”

The server timidly approached the table, not quite sure what to make of the events that had unfolded.

“I’m so sorry for this delay in your dinner, Mr. Cumberbatch,” she began as the last of the mess had been expertly cleaned up from the carpeting.

“It’s my fault,” said Benedict apologetically. “I got up rather abruptly and collided with the tray.”

“Shall I have the kitchen redo your mains then?”

“Yes, please,” answered Benedict. “Now, please sit down, Donna. I look rather lame here holding out your chair.”

The baffled food runner made eyes at the server as to what he should do with Toni and Neil’s mains.

“We can take your mains back to the kitchen and keep them warm,” offered the server.

“No, you won’t!” exclaimed Toni. “My husband and I have waited long enough to eat.”

“Please serve them,” said Donna. “The food never tastes the same when it’s held in a warming oven. I can personally vouch for this.”

The server shrugged and headed off to the kitchen with the first food runner in tow.

“Well, here we are then! Medium filet with green peppercorn sauce on the side; roasted heritage potatoes, butter on the side and steamed broccoli, olive oil on the side,” the runner said cheerily as he placed the plate in front of Toni. “Please mind the plate as its very hot.”

“We’ll have to agree to disagree on that,” said Toni, touching the rim of the plate. “Let’s just hope the food hasn’t cooled off as well.”

“I said I wasn’t hungry,” Donna whispered to Benedict.

“Of course you are! You’re perpetually hungry.”

“I’m not,” insisted Donna.

_For fucks sake. The woman who can always manage to eat is sat beside me and expects me to buy that crap that she’s not hungry. She’s being stropy is all._

“As you like then. I’d never force you to eat if you haven’t an appetite. I’ll take yours home and eat it during the week,” Benedict retorted. “In the meantime, I’m determined to make the best of this.”

“And for you, Sir, our classic Shepherd’s Pie,” the runner said to Neil. “Made with beef, lamb and covered with our creamy mash. Please enjoy.”

“Wait just a minute,” began Toni, cutting into her steak.

“Oh no,” murmured Donna under her breath. “Now, the fun begins.”

“This steak is not medium,” declared Toni. “It’s rare.”

“She only eats cooked meat,” added Benedict, in a snide tone.

_He’s quite the smartass_ , thought Neil. _I like how he managed to shoehorn in that little dig in at my wife. None of the others Donna’s brought home had the balls to say what they thought. Maybe because Cumberbatch is older and has more confidence._ _He's certainly proving to be a tough nut to crack._

“And here we are, Mr. Cumberbatch. Please accept our sincerest apologies for the delay in redoing your mains,” said the server, who was followed by another food runner in addition to the sommelier.

_Motherfucker! The bloody wine! I forgot to order the motherfucking wine!_ Thought Benedict, panic rising in the pit of his stomach. _I told him to come back later while I perused the fucking wine list, only I didn’t. Pink wine. In the mid-price range. Donna suggested I order a pink because it goes with everything. Though the champagne might be more impressive. If I order champagne, I’ll look like I’m trying to show off; but if I order the wine, they may think I’m being cheap. What to do?  
_

Benedict then realized that the sommelier was carrying a bottle of champagne.

“I realized you wanted to order wine, Mr. Cumberbatch; but please accept this bottle of champagne with our compliments and apologies for the mishaps with your meal,” said the sommelier, as he held out the bottle for Benedict to inspect. “I hope this meets with your approval.”

Adam’s words came rushing back to him:

**_“Brut or Dom Perignon are always safe bets.”  
_ **

The bottle said Bruno Pallaird Brut 2000.

_Brut. Brilliant! It’s good according to Adam, bless him!_

Benedict smiled and nodded approvingly. “That will be fine.”

He cast a quick glance at Donna’s parents to see that both Toni and Neil were clearly impressed.

“That was nice of them,” mused Neil as the sommelier expertly uncorked the bottle and poured a bit for Benedict to taste.

Benedict made a show of smelling the bouquet. Then he sipped the sample thoughtfully and swirled it around his mouth. He caught Donna watching him with an intense curiosity.

_Was I just supposed to drink it down? Was I supposed to swish champagne over my palate or is it the motherfucking wine that I do that with? Whatever, it tastes damn good to me!_

“Mmm…Yeah. This is excellent champagne,” Benedict said to the sommelier with a serious expression on his face. “Thank you.”

_Good job, Ben Honey! You did that like an experienced champagne taster,_ thought Donna with relief.

“They should have done _something_ to show good will,” said Toni.

_Of course you would expect that, Mom. If Dad were paying, you would have summoned the manager by now; and we would have received a reduction on the bill._

“They don’t want to leave a first-time club member with a bad impression. Bruno Pallaird is decent middle-of-the-road champagne,” commented Donna once the sommelier had filled their glasses and bade them a pleasant meal.

“They also know there’s a food critic at the table,” smiled Benedict. “They need to impress you.”

“Madame, your filet, done to your liking,” the server said placing the plate in front of Toni with a flourish.

“We’ll see about that,” smiled Toni, cutting into her steak. “Perfect. I like that they grilled a new one rather than recooking the first one. Thank you.”

Donna let out the breath she had been holding. _Ahhhhhhh… God bless the poor soul working the grill. He or she got it right this time!_

“But they put the butter on the potatoes and the oil on the brocolli.”

_Shit. They always screw up something with her meals, because she’s such a pain-in-the-ass with everything on the side!_

“Can’t you eat it this way for once, Mom?” asked Donna.

“Why should she?” piped up Benedict. “Your Mum is entitled to have her food prepared as ordered. Can you please bring a fresh order of the potatoes and brocolli with the condiments and dressings on the side?” he asked pleasantly.

“Of course, Mr. Cumberbatch. Right away,” the server said before heading off to the kitchen.

“The fillet of cod with braised coco beans, chorizo and smoked paprika oil,” said the runner, placing the steaming dish in front of Donna.

_Same menu, just different kitchens,_ Donna thought as she surveyed the food.  _It sure smells delicious.  I can't wait to sink my teeth int this!_

"Oh, my girlfriend has informed me that she no longer has an appetite," said Benedict to the runner.  "We'll need that packed to take away..."

"Wait!  I changed my mind," said Donna.  "I really do need to taste everything in order to do my job correctly."

"Jolly good then, Miss," said the food runner before continuing.  “And sautéed sweetbreads with roasted grelot onions, bacon and broad beans,” he said, placing the last dish in front of Benedict.

The server soon returned with Toni’s side dishes and surveyed the table. “If you need anything else, please feel free to ask,” she smiled brightly at them and quickly left them alone.

“She’s really hoping we don’t ask for anything but the bill,” snickered Neil.

“Ooooo...this smells as good up here as it does downstairs,” giggled Donna.

“They use the same kitchen I take it,” mused Toni.

“Nope. Separate kitchens, but same recipes and suppliers,” said Donna.

“The menu is exactly the same downstairs,” agreed Benedict.

“Perhaps it will taste even better up here being you’re paying for the privilege of dining along side the elite of London,” quipped Neil.

Toni ate some of her meat and drizzled some of the melted butter over her potatoes. “So, as I was about to say before; Hampstead is one of the swankiest areas in North London – especially the Parliament Hill area where you live, Benedict.”

_I see we’re going to pick up where we left off. Time to illustrate to the lovely Antonia that I, too, have done my homework._

“Everything you’ve said before concerning renovating my flat is valid, Antonia. I just need to find the funds to do it with, which I’m sure you can understand from your own experience with remodeling,” smiled Benedict. “You didn’t do all the renovations on your townhouse in one fell swoop. You did the major portion of the work back in 2000 and the remainder just last year. The value of your townhouse has risen substantially from two and a half million to five million dollars. I find that extraordinary!”

Neil and Toni sat quietly as the food runner brought more bread and refilled their water glasses. Donna regarded Benedict with curiosity.

_How in the heck did my Honey find all that out? I never told him. Who then? Dennis. It must have been Dennis. He’s a lawyer and would know how to obtain that information. Wait. It may have been my brother-in-law. Steve would be able to feed Benedict information like that…but not the numbers. I’m going with Dennis. Mom and Dad look taken aback. Very clever, Ben Honey._

“Gramercy Park is one of the most desirable areas in New York City,” continued Benedict, warming to the topic. “And expensive. It’s a lot like Hampstead – nice shops, good restaurants, excellent schools, in your own case – a private park for residents only – close enough to above-average public transport, yet it feels as if you’re removed from the hustle and bustle of the city. They are both nice little enclaves and heaven to live in.”

“Well, we did get some discounts on the materials for the renovations…” began Toni carefully.

“Yes. You did,” smiled Benedict smugly. “Your brother, Angelo, is in the construction business…”

“No. My brother, Dominck, is in construction. My brother, Frank, is a jeweler and…”

Benedict snapped his fingers. “That’s right! Angelo is …how can I put this delicately?” He looked up towards the heavens as he searched for the right words. “In the…I don’t fancy the term Mafia…Cosa Nostra? No. Too pretentious. How about underworld? No, that’s too sinister sounding. How about organized crime? No. Too politically correct. Upon reflection, I think I fancy the term underworld myself.”

Donna could feel her heart in her mouth as she watched several expressions cross her mother’s face: horrified, annoyed and then placid. Her father looked angry but didn’t say anything. He was watching his wife closely in order to gauge her reaction.

“My brother, Angelo, is in the Import/Export business,” huffed Toni. “He’s a _businessman_.”

“If that’s what you fancy labeling him as, then for the purposes of this conversation, we’ll refer to him as a businessman…with connections…to things. A businessman who was indicted by the Grand Jury twenty years ago for criminal activities,” declared Benedict with a slight smirk.

_Benedict is enjoying this,_ thought Donna. _Too much. Mom must be boiling deep down inside. No one ever refers to Uncle Angelo as to possibly belonging to organized crime._ _Not even Nona and Popi._ _It could never be proven and no one ever talks about it._

“He was found innocent,” snapped Toni, head held high.

“Yes, he was,” agreed Benedict. “He got off on a technicality according to the court records.”

“My brother continues to maintain a flourishing import/export business as I stated before,” said Toni adamantly.

“Of course he does,” said Benedict in a patronizing tone. “Call it whatever you fancy, Antonia; but I know better. I also don’t give two shits particularly, as long as his business doesn’t affect Donna or myself, which I see no reason for it to. As far as I’m concerned, he’s Donna’s Uncle Angelo – a well-connected _businessman_.”

“I think we should eat before everything gets cold,” said Donna.

Toni waved her off impatiently and regarded Benedict closely for a minute.

“Well, Benedict, you’ve certainly done your homework on my family.”

“As you did on mine, Antonia.”

“And we didn’t even get into the sugar plantations the Cumberbatches owned in the Barbados.”

“I see no reason why we should, don’t you agree?”

Toni nodded. “I underestimated you, Benedict.”

“As I did you, Antonia.”

“Shall we call another truce, Benedict?”

“Yes. I think that’s a fine and splendid idea,” said Benedict Cumberbatch as Toni offered him a chunk of her steak. Benedict cut into it and ate a piece. He chewed thoughtfully. “Hmmm…this steak isn’t as joyful as the one that I had at the Bountiful Cow. It tastes a bit stropy.”

Donna’s parents both laughed at Benedict’s wiry comment.

_What in the fuck is happening here tonight? It’s like they’ve testing each other all night and finally coming to an understanding of sorts.  
_

*****************************************************

Wanda Ventham sashayed into the lounge of her flat in Kensington and stood before her husband, who was deeply engrossed in a book on gardening. She was wearing black trousers with a bright royal blue silk shirt and colorful scarf in varying shades of blue around her neck. On her head was a jauntily perched black fedora.

“Do you think this is more suitable than the last outfit?”

Timothy wearily looked up from his book to survey the fourth outfit Wanda had modeled for him that evening. _  
_

_Christ on a crutch! After a while they all start to look the same._

“To be honest with you, Pet. They all look fine to me.”

_That’s Tim-speak for: wear whatever the hell you want, Wanda. He’s just trying to end the fashion show as quickly as possible, bless him._

_Okay, let me choose one so we can have our pudding. I’ve always fancied Wanda in anything blue. The first thing she came out in was her navy blue suit. She really did look particularly lovely in that._

“I think the first one looks best. Blue is your colour, Love.”

“You’re just saying that so I’ll cease with the impromptu fashion show, and we can have our pudding.”

Timothy chuckled. “You do know me well. All the outfits you’ve come out with were lovely, but I’ve always been partial to blue on you because it compliments your eyes so well.”

“Thank you then. That’s sorted. I’ll wear the navy trouser suit, unless you think I should swap the trousers for a skirt. I do have a matching skirt.”

“I think what you’re wearing is also just fine. We’re only going over to the Orangery for tea. It’s not like we’re meeting the Duke and Duchess for tea,” chuckled Timothy. “Though I might be persuaded to wear a jacket and tie in that case.”

“I’ll wear this in that case as it’s more comfortable than the suit.”

“Whatever makes you happy, Love.”

“And the hat?”

“What of it?”

“Do you fancy it?”

“No. I’ll pass. You wear it.”

“Stop being so cheeky, Tim! I take it you think the hat should go?”

“Yes, the hat isn’t necessary. Women rarely wear hats anymore except for weddings or if we’re talking about the royals. When last I looked in the peerage, you weren’t listed. Have you been holding out on me?”

“I just want to make a good impression, Tim! You saw the photos of Donna’s mother. The woman looks young enough to be her sister for fucks sake!”

“So? The woman is in Tracy’s age group, Wanda. You are older, but doesn’t mean you don’t look every bit as enticing in your own right,” said Timothy, setting down his book and removing his glasses. “You are still beautiful, sexy and very confident.”

“I’m not feeling any of those right now,” lamented Wanda as she removed the scarf and folded it.

“Allow me to prove it to you then.”

Timothy slowly got to his feet and approached his wife of thirty three years. He took off the hat and tossed it onto the couch as he took her into his arms and gave her a searing kiss.

“How was that for proof?” he whispered, nuzzling her neck.

Wanda burst out into a giggle. “I think I may need a bit more proof.”

“Glad to oblige,” he purred, kissing her again and cupping her backside. “How am I doing?”

“When it comes to restoring a woman’s confidence, you’re positively brilliant!”

“I’d pick you up and carry you off to the boudoir and have my way with you, but my back will protest. And before you say anything, I’m not referring to your weight. My back has seen better days.”

Wanda beamed at Timothy and smoothed back his silver hair. “It’s the thought that counts,” she said with a wink.  
  
“And I’m having many naughty ones right now,” he whispered into her ear and kissed her again.

“You still haven’t given me a proper answer about which outfit to wear tomorrow.”

“I thought that was sorted already.”

“Not entirely. This or the navy suit? Hat optional.”

“I vote for what you have on now then. Sans hat.”

“I don’t want to look old and frumpy,” fretted Wanda. “I want to look chic...or as close to it as I can get.”

“You’re not old and frumpy. What you’re wearing is perfect for an afternoon outing to the Orangery. You don’t want to appear unapproachable to one of your biggest fans.”

“Oh stop that!” Wanda laughed, swatting his backside playfully. “You’re suffering from an overabundance of cheek tonight!”

“What you have on is casual, yet elegant. Perfect for a fan meet and greet.”

“Bless you, Timothy Cumberbatch! You always know what to say.”

“Let’s hope _I_ know what to say tomorrow when we meet those wankers.”

“You sound like Benedict now.”

“Well, our boy has reason to. They haven’t treated him the best on those Skype calls he’s had to endure the past few months.”

“Oh, I’m not saying you’re wrong, Tim. Not at all. But, unfortunately, Benedict is going to have to fight his own battles with them.”

“Well, let’s hope he’s not too much of a gentleman when dealing with them. Sometimes, one has to forget ones manners in order to make a proper point.”

“Ben has illustrated many times that he is more than capable of doing that. I have the utmost confidence in him.”

“Spoken like a true mother.”

“That’s because I am one.”

“I wish I were a fly on the wall at the Ivy Club tonight,” sighed Timothy. “Wouldn’t you love to know what’s going on?”

Wanda’s text chime went off, causing her to jump a foot. Timothy picked it up off the coffee table and looked at it. “It’s Judi.”

“Blimey! I was wondering what in the hell was taking her so long!” exclaimed Wanda, rushing to take it from him. “I’ve been on pins and needles all night!”

“What’s this about?”

“Judi and David are having dinner at the Ivy Club tonight.”

Timothy frowned at his wife. “Just a moment, Commander. Do I smell another recruit to our merry band of conspirators? Just because Judi has had a taste of playing M all these years, does she suddenly fancy a real life go at the amateur spy business?”

“Heavens, no! And I also would never involve Judi that deeply!” scoffed Wanda as she began to read the text messages. “Give me some credit, for fucks sake! She’s just helping me to arrange your surprise birthday party that you won’t want.”

Timothy shook his head as if trying to clear his head. “What did you just say?”

_Hells bells! I just slipped. Just like Benedict would have done. I should never wonder where he gets it from. He comes by it honestly!_

“Your surprise birthday party at the Ivy Club that I wasn’t intending to have in the first place and Judi is now helping me, Tracy and Benedict to plan. Shit, it’s a long story.”

“Sounds like it,” mused Timothy. “Is that what transpired in the kitchen after Barrister Ben discovered you in the closet talking with Agent Saint James?”

“Yes.”

“He’s already brought me up to speed about it then.”

“Bloody hell! Are you kidding me?”

Timothy guffawed. “Certainly not! He called me this morning while you were at the salon primping for your meet and greet tomorrow and told me the whole blasted story – and I must say that was brilliant thinking on your part, albeit expensive thinking.”

“What possessed him to tell you?”

“Well, apparently, he was concerned that you had made such a fuss over the cost that he was feeling guilty about it and feared that he might have pressured you into something you couldn’t handle, so he wanted my opinion.”

“Pressured me is putting it kindly,” smirked Wanda. “I was unceremoniously guilted into it. I was planning on taking you to Paris for the weekend to celebrate. Then Barrister Ben got in the middle of things, bless him. I know how you hate having a fuss made on birthdays and would have preferred just having a Sunday dinner with the family and then heading over to Paris. Oh, what a mess, Tim!” she cried.

“Not a mess. Allow me to explain, Wanda.”

Wanda perched on the arm of the wing chair.   She leaned over and helped herself to one of her spicy chili chocolate truffles which she unwrapped and popped into her mouth. “Go ahead,” she said around a mouthful of candy.

“After Ben finished prattling on about it, I conceded that while it was a lovely idea, it wasn’t the way I would go about celebrating my seventieth birthday had I the choice. I told him that I would much prefer a quiet, family dinner either at home or at the Chinese buffet in Chinatown that we enjoy so much.”

Wanda clapped her hands together in glee. “I knew you would have preferred the buffet over the Ivy Club! Our son insinuated I was being cheap.”

“Shame on Benedict for insinuating such a thing.”

“Well, actually, he did come out and say that.”

“You’re thrifty, not cheap.”

“That’s exactly what I said!”

“I’d much rather go away with you to Paris to mark my seventieth year – after a nice family dinner with Benedict and Donna and Tracy’s family. Perhaps one of your famous Battenberg cakes rather than a fancy bakery cake.”

“Are you quite sure then?”

Timothy nodded. “Quite.” He paused to tap his upper lip with his index finger. “Hmmm would I fancy a weekend in Paris or a party at the Ivy Club? No contest. Paris wins every time – especially with my beautiful, sexy wife.”

“I am so relieved to hear you say that, Tim!”

“I told you before that you’re still beautiful and…”

“I mean about the damn party. I can now do both! Just promise that you’ll look surprised.”

“Promise. I’ll start rehearsing my surprised reactions tomorrow. Now, let’s get back to the reasons why Judi is sending you text messages during dinner.”

Wanda bit her lower lip. “If you must know…” she began reluctantly.

Timothy crossed his arms and regarded his wife sternly. “I must.”

“While we were having lunch at Diana’s, Judi mentioned that she and David were going to the Ivy Club for dinner, and she volunteered to check out the private dining rooms for me.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“Oh, Wanda, there’s more to it than that isn’t there now?”

Wanda took another chocolate. “No, not really.”

“Are you quite sure? I could swear that Benedict is dining there with Donna and her parents tonight.”

“Are they now?” Wanda asked, her face the picture of innocence.

Timothy fixed her with a look. “Let’s stop doing the dance of avoidance and cut to the quick, shall we? Did you conscript Judi to spy on them or not?”

“It was a coincidence. They just happened to be sat in the same dining room as them - and before you say anything - Judi texted me that Ben and Donna were there with the parents.”

“And you asked her to spy on them?”

“No! Judi offered to. She knows the history between Neil Saint James and our Benedict…”

“And you, of course.”

“Bloody hell, Tim! Of course she does! She, Una and Diana were all here when I wrote to that bastard. Judi was quite the contributor that day. She’s not fond of him either after he gave a play she was in one of his poisoned pen reviews.”

Timothy shook his head. “Go on then. What does she say?”

“That Donna and her parents came in first…”

“How does Judi know what they look like?”

Wanda rolled her eyes. “She googled Neil Saint James, of course. There were photos of him and his wife at a premiere not too long ago, and I took some of Donna and Benedict when they were here that Sunday for lunch. Anyway, Judi says they were seated in the far corner of the library room, but the table was at an angle so she could see them fairly well.”

“Ben mentioned he was asking for a corner table in case warfare erupted.”

“And it was a damn good thing, too; from what I’m seeing here…and I quote: The parents seemed stropy from the get go. Donna appeared to be very tense. They seemed to be arguing about something.”

“Well, I can explain that - our son was late.”

Wanda kept reading and nodded. “That he was. Judi reports that Benedict showed up after they were sat and looked very harried. She and David had tried to get his attention, but he glossed right over them.”

“Not surprising. Ben wouldn’t have been expecting to see her and David.”

Wanda continued reading the text messages. “Hmm…this is interesting.”

“What’s interesting? What else does Judi have to say?”

“That both Ben and Donna looked rather grim – as if they were expecting something to go awry. She says the conversation seemed to be moving along amiable enough.”

“Jolly good then,” said Timothy, taking his place on the couch, putting on his reading glasses and picking up his book. “I’ve done listening to this evening’s espionage tidbits.”

“Oh, dear.”

Timothy peered over the frames of his reading glasses. “Is that ‘Oh, dear’ – as in the shit hit the proverbial fan?”

“This isn’t good.”

“Bloody hell, Wanda! What isn’t good? What fuckery is going down now?”

“I thought you didn’t condone ‘spying’.”

“Cheekiness doesn’t become you, Commander. I don’t condone spying per se. However, I’m not only a loyal foot soldier; but also have a great interest when it has to do with our son and that bastard father of his girlfriend!” Timothy thundered.

Wanda appeared momentarily startled. “Well, then. Look at who’s stropy now!”

“Sorry, Pet. I’m not angry with you. It’s just that every time I think of Neil Saint James, I get so…angry. To think that Benedict may be stuck with him for the rest of his life.”

“Are you saying that you’d rather Ben not marry Donna in the end?”

Timothy sighed and shook his head. “No. Not at all. I just wish she didn’t come with parents is all.”

“We all come with parents, Love, or we wouldn’t be here in the first place.”

“True.”

“Oh, now this is really bad. Judi said the mother seemed to have said something that set Ben off. She said he became tight-lipped and all red in the face. Then Donna pounded the table with her fist and almost began shouting at her parents.”

“That sounded very unlike Donna,” mused Timothy.

“Not really!” scoffed Wanda. “We’ve seen her temper in action at the Blackberry Bramble Inn.”

“As long as her temper isn’t directed at Benedict.”

“Judi said there was a quite a fuss, water spilt on the table and Ben literally pulled Donna back down into her chair when she tried to clean up the mess.”

“That sounds very much like Donna. I can see Benedict pulling her back down into her seat,” chuckled Timothy.   “Then what?”

“Um…let’s see. Everything seemed to be progressing just fine through the starters. They were even laughing together at several points until…Hells bells!”

“Is ‘hells bells’ worse than ‘oh dear’?”

Wanda bit her lip and nodded vigorously. “Oh, yes. Quite. The worst possible!”

“Care to share then or shall I drag out my crystal ball and hope it still works?”

“Looks like the mother said something to set Ben off. Ben got very loud, angry words were exchanged. It looked like Ben and Donna had decided to leave. Donna tossed down her napkin. Ben shoved his chair back into the waiter. Oh shit. The waiter had a tray full of food. Everything wound up on the floor.”

“Now that brings me back to our lunch at Quince when you were interviewing the not-so-charming Samantha Alden-Thomas,” sighed Timothy.

“That bitch insinuated our Benedict wasn’t particularly attractive.”

“She didn’t insinuate. She outright said it.”

“The cow said he had creepy preternatural eyes,” scoffed Wanda.

“Yes, the cow did, and you didn’t take kindly to it,” reminded Timothy. “You got into a right strop and almost overturned the table in a piss poor attempt to make a dramatic exit.”

“Ben only overturned the serving tray and their dinners fell on the floor. ”

“Close enough. Like mother, like son.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I wanted to show that Toni and Neil can also have a slightly nicer side. They don't hate Benedict, they just don't completely trust his motives. 
> 
> 2\. I also wanted to depict Donna having more of a backbone in this chapter. Will that last? Who knows.
> 
> 3\. The Bountiful Cow is an actual restaurant that we considered trying, but didn't find the time.


	102. Chapter 102

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 3 of Dinner at the Ivy Club – The roller coaster ride continues. Benedict and Donna’s parents come to an understanding of sorts while Wanda and Timothy prepare for battle. An unexpected visitor drops by the table. 
> 
> Note: I’ll be using ********** to indicate things happening at the same time.

 

 

“These sweet breads are very tender,” remarked Benedict Cumberbatch as he cut another piece off and brought it to his mouth. “What do you think, Love,” he asked Donna.

“They’re very good and perfectly cooked, which isn’t easy to do in the first place. There’s nothing worse than chewy sweetbreads.”

“It’s rare to find people who appreciate offal,” declared Neil. “Many people are turned off by it.”

“Not me,” laughed Benedict. “I’m game to try anything.”

“Then you must try my mother’s capozelle if you’re ever in New York,” said Toni. “She makes the best.”

Donna caught the slight smirk on her father’s face as he knew what was coming next.

_Oh, Mom, I see where this is going and it’s not going to work. It may have caused Michael, Danny and Roy to all cringe; but this time you’ve met your match. This is nothing but a poor attempt to try and gross Benedict out. Nothing grosses him out. Go ahead, Mom, give it your best shot._

“It’s sheep’s head,” Toni loosely translated with a sly smile.

Donna smiled to herself as she saw the immediate recognition in Benedict’s eyes.

“Capozelle. Yes, I’m well acquainted with that dish. It’s stuffed with a mixture of soft bread crumbs, Parmigiano reggiano and herbs. Then the sheep’s head is roasted on a spit in a brick oven. Of course, I think its best prepared with the brain, eyes and tongue intact,” said Benedict. “I adore capozelle with a nice red wine and some crusty bread.”

_Hahaha! Mom looks clearly disappointed, yet impressed by his response. More brownie points for Benedict._

“You’ve had it?” Toni asked incredulously. “Not many people I know have even heard of it, yet alone actually eaten it.”

“I’ve eaten it many times,” confirmed Benedict. “There is a tiny family-run restaurant in Rome that makes a brilliant one. My mother’s sister lives in Rome, and we always go there whenever we visit her. It’s not a regular menu item; but the owner makes it especially for us, and it’s something we all look forward to tucking into. It’s tender, fatty and absolutely succulent.”

“You sound just like Donna,” Neil said to Benedict. “Do you go along on her reviews?”

“Whenever my schedule permits,” replied Benedict. “I love good food, and I love your daughter’s company even more; so it’s a win-win for me.”

“Benedict has a well-developed palate, and I value his opinions.”

“I wouldn’t touch capozelle until I had my mother-in-law’s,” declared Neil. “The thought of it turned me off. Then one day, Toni carved some onto a plate and didn’t tell me what I was eating. Now, I’m the first one at the table whenever she makes it.”

“I think the problem is that many people haven’t had properly cooked offal,” declared Donna. “If cooked correctly, it can be quite good as you found out, Dad.”

“Even blood pudding?” teased Neil.

“Yes, Dad. Even blood pudding,” laughed Donna.

“My husband detests blood pudding,” Toni informed Benedict. “However, my father-in-law is a huge fan, so I taught myself how to make it from using his late wife’s recipe. Even though she wasn’t English, she embraced the English style of cooking.”

“Toni has picked up the torch for English cuisine in our house ever since my mom passed away,” explained Neil. “It’s important to her to be able to give my pa some good English comfort food.”

_Well, there’s a side of Antonia that I would not have expected to hear about,_ thought Benedict. _She’s definitely got a soft spot for Neil’s father. She’s spoken so well of him throughout the meal.  
_

“That’s very kind of you to do that,” Benedict said to Toni. “Not many daughters-in law would go through such trouble.”

“I do it because I want to,” said Toni warmly. “Colin is a very good man, as you’ll find out for yourself tomorrow. The death of his wife hit him hard and eating the same dishes she cooked brings back happy memories. It’s the least I can do.”

“Mom makes delicious scones,” added Donna. “She has a secret ingredient that she won’t divulge to us.”

Toni rolled her eyes. “I’m telling you, Muffin. There is no secret ingredient. Flour, butter, cream, salt, sugar, raisins. That’s it. The less you work the dough, the more tender the crumb.”

_Then why don’t ours taste the same? Carly and I make them exactly the same way, yet something seems to be missing. There’s something you’re holding back,_ thought Donna as their eyes met briefly.

“Carly and I are going to try different fruit scones next week. Starting with nectarine and blueberry,” announced Donna.

Benedict frowned. “That’s not traditional.”

“No. It’s not. That’s the idea.”

“Trying out ideas for the TV show catering?” inquired Neil.

“Yes! We also have to start interviewing for a buyer/office manager and a bookkeeper. I already told you our plan is to use college interns and hire them after graduation if they work out.”

“I like your idea for using college students,” said Neil. “We’ve often hired interns at the Times and went on to hire quite a few of them upon graduation.”

“I’ve done it at the law firm,” agreed Toni. “And if they don’t work out, nothing lost. At least it gives them experience and something to put on their resumes.”

“I placed the ad with a couple of placement offices for two local colleges, so hopefully, we’ll be hearing from candidates Monday,” said Donna excitedly.

“Let’s just hope you two don’t get in over your heads,” sighed Benedict. Then he addressed Neil and Toni. “I’m not totally on board with this, as I’m sure Donna’s told you.”

_No, Benedict. I didn’t tell them that. Thank you for giving them some new ammunition. This won’t sit well with them. They will see this as you being unsupportive._

“It’s not for you to be on board, unless you’re an investor,” retorted Neil. “It’s Donna and Carly’s business.”

“Are you an investor?” inquired Toni with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m an investor in Donna’s well-being and happiness,” shot back Benedict.

Neil smirked. “Which are connected to _your_ well-being and happiness no doubt.”

“Pardon me to fuck if I show concern for the woman I love,” snarled Benedict.

“And I appreciate the fact that you care so much, Benedict; but your worries are unfounded. Carly and I are learning as we go along,” said Donna. “We already do small scale catering. This will just be a bit…more than we’re used to. You’ve already given us a wealth of good, solid advice, Ben Honey, which we fully intend to heed. We’ll be fine.”

“Why the concern, Benedict?” asked Toni. “Their plan sounds pretty sound to me.”

“It’s just that they’ve no experience with this type of venture, so I’m concerned they’ll have bitten off more than they can chew. They’re putting an awful lot on the line. They’ve worked long and hard hours to build up that business to where it is today. It’s one of the most thriving businesses in Paternoster Square. If they were to offer dinner, I know they would do even more takeaway business than they already have between their regulars and the tourist trade from Saint Paul’s. Christ, on most days they sell out by three.”

Neil sat back and listened to Benedict’s passionate words. _Cumberbatch really does care about Donna and Carly’s business. He doesn’t want to see them fail. I think I’ve misunderstood him. I’ve been very quick to do that for most of the evening._

“I’ve gone over the contract in addition to the figures and I agree with their bookkeeper and your solicitor that they can make it work as long as they’re careful and don’t over extend themselves financially and physically,” said Toni. “Sometimes we have to take a little risk in order to reap more benefits.”

“Donna says I’m too conservative,” smiled Benedict. He crinkled his nose at Donna, who reached out and squeezed his hand.

“We’ll be fine,” she mouthed at him.

“Conservative should be the worst thing you’re ever called,” observed Neil. “Its’ good for one to be the accelerator and the other to be the brake in a relationship,” he mused. “It keeps things on an even keel.”

Donna returned Benedict’s smile. “I think it depends on what the situation is. There have been times when he’s been the accelerator, and I’ve been the brake.”

“You’re right,” agreed Benedict. “If it were up to me, we’d be married already and expecting our first child.”

Toni snickered. “You certainly have a lead foot when it comes to the relationship gas pedal.”

“Keeping what I just said in mind – and I know you’ll find this hard to believe - I was the one who wanted to wait for the right time to embark on a physical relationship, when Donna wanted to dive right into the sex pool.”

Donna sputtered and nearly choked on the water she was drinking. The water spewed out of her mouth and down her chin. “Jesus, Ben!” she hissed, wiping her face with the napkin. “That was too much information. Turn on your mouth filter, for God's sake!” Her parents side-eyed each other and looked down at the table.

_My bad. I shouldn’t have said that. The parents look very uncomfortable, and Donna’s clearly not happy. I guess I can’t blame her; but they have to have some idea that we’re sleeping together. Hell, they know we went on holiday together. Antonia even sent her that snarky text about using proper birth control so we didn’t bring home an unwanted souvenir, bless her._

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck. “Antonia, Neil, please accept my apology. I shouldn’t have shared such intimate information about…well you know…our sex life. That’s should remain between Donna and me. Please forgive me, Sweetheart. It wasn’t my intent to make anyone uncomfortable.”

_And here comes the nose crinkle again.   He knows damn well I can’t stay mad at him when he’s looking so adorable._

Benedict smiled disarmingly and crinkled his nose at Donna. “Am I forgiven then?”

“Yes.”

“Well, it doesn’t really matter who’s the brake and who’s the accelerator. Whatever you're doing seems to be successful so far,” declared Neil. “Besides love and respect, the simple ability to just get along is the most important thing in a relationship.”

“Honesty is the most important thing,” scoffed Toni.

_Holy cow! A rare difference of opinion! Mom would say that._

“Spoken like a true lawyer, Mom,” snickered Donna.

“I agree with you, Antonia. Honesty is paramount to a successful relationship. It’s the very foundation,” said Benedict earnestly. “However, Neil’s points are also valid. Love and mutual respect are also part of the package…so you’re both right.”

Neil and Toni nodded and smiled at Benedict, while Donna felt her cheeks burning with guilt.

_Ben would say that. He should know I’m up to my neck in deception with his own parents. Time to steer the conversation away from the topic of honesty.  
_

“I think you are worrying needlessly, Benedict. Carly and I will be fine,” Donna said soothingly. “If things go awry, we’ll abandon the plan and cut our losses before things get out of control.”

“A good accountant or bookkeeper won’t let that happen in the first place,” observed Toni. “Be very careful about who you hire to replace Kelsey.”

“You can count on that, Mom. Anyway…I don’t think I’m loving these coco beans,” said Donna, poking at them with her fork. “They’re too mushy and yucky for my taste.”

Benedict looked at Donna from under his ginger eyelashes. “Hmmm…there you go again with your food critic-speak. Do you really think the word ‘yucky’ adequately describes those beans. When I think about it…”

“It’s a very apropos word to describe these beans,” finished Donna.

Benedict wagged his finger teasingly at her. “A proper food critic would say they were overcooked or mushy. Only a rubbish one would say they were yucky.”

“You tasted them, and I don’t see that you’ve finished the ones on your plate. Why is that?”

Benedict giggled. “Because they are – as you so eloquently put it: yucky. Don’t tell anyone, but I’ve never been a huge fan of mushy legumes,” he whispered.

“Englishmen are supposed to like mushy peas,” teased Donna. “It’s the law.”

“Not this one. I’ve always fancied a bit of chew to my food.”

“I agree,” said Neil. “My English half doesn’t care much for mushy peas either. Reminds me of baby food.”

“Did you always eat everything, Benedict?” Toni asked Benedict.

Benedict nodded. “Yeah. Mum always insisted I try everything. Out right refusal was not an option in our house. Now, that I’m grown, I’m glad she held fast to that rule. Then perhaps it’s because she just had a knack for making everything extraordinarily tasty.”

_Extraordinary. He does love that word. He’s used it at least six or seven times tonight,_ thought Neil. _I really do need to bring up his mother though. Toni keeps nudging my foot to clear the air so we can meet his parents tomorrow with no hard feelings and move on._

“Speaking of your mother, Ben,” began Neil, putting down his fork. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to bring up about her.”

There was an uncomfortable silence as tension suddenly filled the air. Benedict began to immediately feel on edge. Donna noticed that he had begun to rub his thigh, as she felt bile rise up into her mouth.

_What in the heck does Dad want to talk about that has to do with Wanda? Oh, God. It must be the snotty fan letter she wrote him that time!_ _I hope to hell Dad doesn’t say it’s his favorite letter, because I a have a feeling Ben will wipe the floor with him._

_What fresh hell is this?_ Thought Benedict as he ate some of Donna’s fish. The fish felt like lead in his stomach. _I think I just lost my bloody appetite._ He lay down his utensils on his plate to signal that he was done eating and narrowed his ice blue eyes at the older man.

“What might that be, Neil?” he asked testily.

“I understand from Donna that your mother may still harbor some ill feelings towards me regarding that old review I did of you back in 2002.”

_Ah, the bastard wants to go down memory lane. I should have known this was going to come up sooner rather than later._

Benedict blotted his cupid bow lips with his serviette and threw it back on his lap. “Bloody hell. You certainly get right to the point, don’t you?”

“I’m a firm believer in getting to the point,” said Neil. “It’s a well-documented fact that your mother did not agree with my reviews. I’d like to go on the record by saying that was her prerogative to feel that way, as it was mine to write what I did.”

Benedict regarded Neil with a furrowed brow _. For fucks sake! What is he getting at?_

“Dad, can we discuss this back at my apartment? Everything is going along so well right now. Let’s not ruin what’s left of the evening,” implored Donna.

“No, Donna. We can’t. This has to be said, and I promise you that I’m not going to start any arguments,” declared Neil. “Though I can’t speak for Cumberbatch.”

_No, the fucker is going to bait me and let me have that honour,_ thought Benedict. _He’s not going to poke any more fun at me and get away with it. For Donna’s sake I have to try and hold my temper._

“As you were then,” said Benedict, his index finger impatiently circling the rim of his empty cocktail glass.

“If I had the opportunity to rewrite those reviews today, there is nothing I would have changed. You were green as grass that summer and your behavior was unprofessional when you left that open air theatre prior to the curtain calls. It was an insult to the director, your fellow actors and the audience – though I was pleased at the time that your understudy spared me from seeing any more of you. I still feel my review was fair considering the circumstances, and ...”

“Excuse me, Neil; but I thought you weren’t looking to start any arguments,” said a perplexed Benedict.

“I’m not.”

Benedict fumed. “Well, I beg to differ then. You’re clearly well on the road to one and antagonizing the motherfucking shit out of me.”

“You need to acquire a thicker skin, Ben,” advised Neil. “You can’t let everything a critic writes bother you. Not all critics are right – present company excluded, of course.”

“Present company accepted,” shot back Benedict angrily.

“Dad, Benedict - can we please go back to my place or maybe one of the quiet conversation areas outside the dining room to talk this out,” suggested Donna frantically. “There’s a private-looking area on the first…no second…no it’s the first floor...it’s not the ground floor…”

“Bloody hell! It’s on the first fucking floor!” snarled Benedict impatiently. “I don’t fancy leaving just yet. We need to finish this _here_.”

“We’re _really_ starting to attract a lot of unwanted attention,” Donna persisted thru gritted teeth. “You don’t want to wind up in one of those tabloids for having an argument in the Ivy Club during your first visit!”

“Trust me, Muffin. There’s no chance in hell of that happening,” chortled Neil. “It’s not like we’re deep in discussion with Michael Caine.”

“You have some bollocks to insinuate that no one cares about me,” hissed Benedict.

Neil smiled condescendingly at Benedict. “Hmmmm…you’re right. My daughter cares. You have the right to be concerned when the paps are all over you, and I don’t see that happening in your immediate future.”

_Someday, I hope to prove him wrong,_ thought Benedict.

_That would be awful having photographers after you all the time,_ thought Donna.  _I don't think I'd like being embroiled in that kind of lifestyle._

“Well, we’ll see when we leave, which can’t be soon enough,” continued Benedict. “There are often paps hanging around the exit waiting for celebrities to leave.”

Neil slapped his knee and laughed out loud. “I’ll bet you one hundred quid that if there are any paps outside, they won’t be waiting for you.”

“I don’t take bets,” huffed Benedict. “I rarely gamble; and when I do, I set aside a small amount that I’m prepared to lose.”

“Relax, Ben, for God’s sake! It was a figure of speech,” clarified Neil. “The paps usually swarm when they get a tip that someone _important_ is here. Someone who's worthy click-bait fodder for the tabloids. Not someone of _your_ caliber, no offense intended.”

“It’s too late, I’m afraid. Offense has already been taken.”

“Neil was referring to someone famous like Tony Hopkins,” chimed in Toni. “He’s here with his sweetheart of a wife. I’m sure they’ll be waiting for him to leave.”

_She knows Anthony Hopkins? I bet he’s one of her clients. Isn’t that just the icing on the motherfucking cake of life?_

"They could be waiting for Patrick Stewart or Helen Mirren to leave," said Donna as an aside to Benedict.  "We saw them here, too." _  
_

“There’s a woman across the room that seems to have a vested interest in what’s going on at this table,” added Toni in a confidential whisper. “If I didn’t know better, I’d wager a guess that she’s been texting someone about us.”

“By the way, Neil, just what did you mean by someone of _my_ caliber?” demanded Benedict.

“I thought it was obvious,” smirked Neil.

“Daddy! Benedict! I’m asking you both to please lower your voices and dispense with the arguing!” Donna said in a pleading tone. “They can revoke your membership, Ben, for disturbing other diners!”

“We’re not arguing!” exclaimed Neil and Benedict at the same time.

“We’re having a spirited discussion,” added Neil.

Benedict glared at Donna. “Donna, _please_ stop interfering and eat your fish!” he snapped. “This is between your father and I. Your constant whining is not helping matters.”

_Whining? I wasn’t whining! I was imploring you both to shut up. Maybe I was begging, but I wasn’t whining! I just want them to stop before someone complains to the maître D, and he decides to throw us out for disturbing the other diners!  
_

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m done eating my fish,” began Donna. “And I wasn’t…”

Benedict paused to verify what she had said by inspecting her plate, which was empty except for the coco bean. “Then have some of my sweetbreads, _”_ he said brusquely while unceremoniously forking the remains of his dish onto her plate. “Now, as I was saying…”

Toni raised her hand to silence Benedict. “Perhaps if you allow my husband to finish what he wants to say before beginning your diatribe.”

“I wasn’t beginning a diatribe.”

“How about letting me finish and then you can have time to make a rebuttal - hopefully, before the place closes down for the night,” sighed Neil.

“That was rather snarky,” remarked Benedict. “You’re insinuating that I talk too much.”

“That’s because you _do_ ,” confirmed Neil. “You need to learn to shut up and listen before opening that big mouth of yours. What most people manage to say in five words, you say in thirty. I pity your PR person. He or she…”

“It’s a _she_ , Neil,” said Toni wearily. “Karon Maskill. She’s been doing his PR for years.”

Neil blinked. “Was she doing your PR back when I did those reviews?”

“No,” replied Toni and Benedict at the same time.

“Would you care to finish, Antonia, since you already know everything there is to know about me,” snarled Benedict.

_The mother can sure be a snarky cow in her own right,_ thought Benedict.

Toni smiled apologetically and indicated that Benedict should finish.

“I signed on with Karon’s firm soon after that. My new agent, John Grant, thought I needed someone to handle my PR.”

Neil nodded. “Your agent is wise. I hope you take good care of both of them at Christmas time.”

Benedict nodded. “I do. I send them both gift baskets from Fortnum and Mason.”

The busboys came and cleared the table. Then the server brought over dessert menus for them to peruse.

_Maybe they’ll get distracted with ordering dessert,_ thought Donna as she perused the menu.

_This is like a fucking nightmare. I thought Donna was kidding all this time, but she was right on point,_ thought Benedict _. I will never, ever move to New York. Steven was also right. I need to keep the Atlantic Ocean between us._

“Oh, everything looks so good,” commented Donna. “I think I’m going to try the apricot and almond pithivier and jasmine tea.”

“Neil, let’s get the Baked Alaska for two,” suggested Toni. “It’s rare you see that anymore.”

The server smiled graciously. “Our Baked Alaska is famous.”

Donna looked up at the server. _It’s famous for hard, tasteless cake._

“Mon, you don’t want the baked Alaska,” interrupted Donna. “We’ve had it downstairs and it wasn’t very good. It’s just hard pound cake covered with jam, overly boozy cherries and charred meringue.”

The server’s face fell. “The pound cake is baked fresh daily in our in-house pastry kitchen, Miss.”

“Maybe so, but the texture isn’t what it should be,” retorted Donna. “I’ve had it twice now. Given the fact that it has to be partially frozen, it still doesn’t taste right once it’s thawed in the oven while the meringue is browning. Perhaps the pastry chef should consider changing up the recipe. If he or she is interested, I’d be happy to share my pound cake recipe with them. Tell them to contact me at the London Tribune.”

Neil and Toni exchanges glances and Neil shrugged. “I suppose it’s our duty to take a food critic’s advice.”

“I’ll have the salted caramel orange praline truffles and a cappuccino,” Toni said to the server. “I’d like the cappuccino made with skim milk, please.”

Benedict shuddered. _Who in the fuck orders skimmed milk in their cappuccino? Oh. Beth would have. And she would have ordered decaf. All healthy, all the time._

“Could you also make that with decaf coffee?” asked Toni.

_Me thinks the mother is on a perpetual diet,_ thought Benedict. _She watches what she consumes very closely. She really does remind me of Beth._

“Of course, Madame,” said the server.   “For you, Sir?” she addressed Neil.

“Sticky toffee pudding and a cappuccino, please.”

“And what would you fancy, Mr. Cumberbatch?”

_The bill so I can get the fuck out of here, go home and have a tall whiskey and a fag. Oh, shit! Donna’s coming back with me, so cancel the fag idea._

“The gooseberry and elderflower pie with a double espresso, please,” replied Benedict. “Could I also have two scoops of the Tahitian vanilla ice cream with that and another order of the truffles?”

Donna looked momentarily startled. _I know he loves his dessert, but that’s a bit much even for him. He’s probably afraid to order a whiskey in front of them. Poor thing looks like he could use a drink. Hell, I could use one about now._

Benedict noticed everyone’s eyes on him. He suddenly felt embarrassed.

_They think I’m a hog for ordering all that pudding. It was an impulse. I couldn’t make up my mind._

“I’m a tart for sweets,” Benedict laughed self-consciously. “Besides, I thought you’d fancy some of those truffles,” he said to Donna. “We’ll take away what we don’t eat with us. I also thought we’d all share as we did the other courses.”

_Well done, me. That sounded utterly plausible._

“You know me too well,” Donna replied. “I was hoping you’d get the truffles. There are only four in a serving, so one each would never have been enough given my sweet tooth.”

“I received your psychic message loud and clear,” said Benedict while gazing into her hazel eyes and kissing the back of her hand.

Neil groaned inwardly. _For the love of Pete! Cumberbatch really loves laying on the heart eyes and the PDA; and my daughter is lapping it up like a lovesick puppy. I’ve always felt uncomfortable whenever my girls’ boyfriends showed them affection around me. Toni likes to see those displays, not me. Danny Manganaro had very long hands. However, to be fair, Roy knew how to behave in front of me. I remember my son-in-law, Steven, was all over Carly at times. Still is, too. I have to keep reminding myself that they are no longer little girls, but grown women._  

Neil cleared his throat. “Getting back to what I was saying, Benedict…”

_Okay, ordering dessert didn’t do shit to distract Dad. He went right back to where he left off._

“Dad. Please. Let’s just enjoy our desserts and continue this conversation back at my apartment. Better still, let’s get the desserts to go and…”

Donna felt Benedict nudge her foot under the table and looked up at him. His eyes were flashing with annoyance.

_Okay. He wants me to shut up.  
_

_She really needs to stay out of this._

“The puddings taste best when eaten here. They won’t be the same if we take them back,” said Benedict. “Besides, I want to finish this _now_. As you were then, Neil.”

 

******************************************************

 

“So, what else did Judi have to report, Commander?” Inquired Timothy Carlton as he wandered into the kitchen to find his wife standing beside the stove, mobile in hand.

_I don’t see any cake. I suppose I’m not getting any pudding tonight._

Wanda sighed deeply. “Well, they got their mains sorted out finally. Judi said they were sharing everything.”

“Sounds to me like Donna must have decided to do a review then,” mused Timothy.

Wanda nodded absently. “It certainly does sounds like it. By the way, the mother sent back her food. I hope she doesn’t do that at the Orangery tomorrow.”

“Didn’t Donna mention that the mother was a fussy eater?”

“No. The bastard of a father is the fussy eater. Though from what Judi says, the mother seems to be a right pain in the arse from what she can see.”

“Does this mean I’m bang out of luck as far as getting some pudding goes?” hinted Timothy.

Wanda looked up. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I was hoping for pudding and a coffee. We always have our pudding in the evening around this time,” he replied, tapping his watch for emphasis.

“How can you think about pudding when our son is getting lambasted over at the Ivy Club?”

_Very easily. I can just taste that lemon drizzle cake right now. I can see that Wanda put a nice thick layer of the lemon glaze over it, too._

“Does Agent Dench report that there’s a lambasting going on?” asked Timothy worriedly. “Or are those your words?”

“Stop being so damn cheeky, Tim! Judi says all was going along splendidly once the mains were finally sorted out. There was some serious discussion and some joking, too. Then the father seemed to have said something that set our Ben off.”

“There’s plenty he could have said,” commented Timothy. “We won’t know the whole story until Ben tells us, which I guarantee you he will. We’ll just have to be patient, which I must admit is not your forte.”

“Oh, dear. They’re arguing again…and…”

_I suppose the fate of the pudding is in my hands. The Commander is preoccupied with the blow-by-blow report from the field._

“And what?” demanded Timothy, crossing the room and removing the container of ground coffee from the refrigerator. He began to fill the coffee maker with cold water from the tap.

“The server came in the middle of it, and they ordered pudding!”

“What a brilliant idea! Why don’t we have pudding, too?”

“That’s all she said for now. I suppose I could do with a coffee and slice of cake. Be a love and make the coffee whilst I slice up the cake,” instructed Wanda.

“Rest assured that I’m already on it, Commander.” Timothy measured out two scoops of coffee and flipped the switch. “No one makes a lemon drizzle to rival yours. I’ve been looking forward to it all day.”

The text chime sounded as Wanda pulled out two plates from the dish cupboard. She immediately abandoned the task at hand and grabbed her mobile.

“I trust that’s another incoming report from the field, Commander?”

“Yes! I love that Judi is doing this! She’s such a lovey.”

“There’s nothing quite as exciting as giving a live report from the field. I recall the day I was on assignment at Parliament Hill Farmers Market making sure that the Plan was executed properly. That was espionage at its finest! What’s going down now?”

The smell of brewing coffee filled the air as Wanda read the text and shook her head in disgust.

“Judi and David are just tucking into their puddings is all. This has nothing to do with Ben’s table! Judi says the chocolate crunch bar with matcha ice cream is to die for, and David’s having the blackcurrant and nectarine mess. Apparently, he prefers a traditional Eton mess. I wasn’t looking for a report on their pudding choices! Oh, and here come the photos...Judi's right.  That chocolate crunch thing looks divine!"

“I wish I were able to report back to Judi on your lemon drizzle cake, but I haven’t had any yet.”

Wanda frowned at her mobile. “Damn! That’s all she wrote.”

“Has Agent Dench stopped transmitting from the field then?”

“She seems to have for the time being.”

“Maybe she doesn’t want her ice cream to melt.”

“You’re probably right.  Judi detests melted ice cream.”

“I do yearn to hear you say those words,” teased Timothy, cupping his hand around his ear.

"That Judi detests melted ice cream?"

"Nooooooo.  That's I'm right."

"I distinctly recall saying 'probably right' - there was no indication of the definitive."

“Probably, definitely!  It doesn't matter.  Now, how about saying it once more for old time’s sake?”

“How about you stop with the cheek?”

“Cheek has been temporarily suspended per your request, Commander.”

“I appreciate it. Now what should we do?”

Timothy pretended to consider her words and snapped his fingers together.

“I have a brilliant idea as to how we can pass the time between transmissions, which will benefit both of us. Why don’t you cut us some of that lemon drizzle cake while I pour us a coffee? Then we’ll have it while we await further news from the field.”

The text chime went off, causing Timothy to groan loudly.

_Timothy, this isn’t your night. She’s going to keep texting Wanda until they leave the motherfucking restaurant. Maybe then I can enjoy my pudding in peace._

“Hells bells! This is bad, Tim!”

“How bad?”

“The worst possible! Judi says it seems they are having words again.”

“Who is the mysterious ‘they’?”

“Why Ben and Neil Saint James, of course!”

_Of course, silly me. The wanker father must be baiting Ben, which is fairly easy to do._

“That _is_ bad,” fretted Timothy. “I sure as hell hope our son isn’t letting that bastard walk all over him.”

“According to Judi, Ben appears to be holding his own so far. Well done him.”

Timothy looked at the lemon drizzle cake longingly.

_I don’t appear to be getting any cake as long as Judi keeps up with this infernal texting. I’ll have to take over and act as guest pudding-smith tonight._

Timothy took the plates off the counter and uncovered the glass-domed cake stand. He removed a long, serrated knife from the utensils drawer and deftly cut two thick slices from the loaf cake and got out two forks.   He placed them on the table along with two large white beakers, which he filled with the hot, aromatic coffee.

“Well then.”

“Well then what, Commander?”

“Judi said that the storm seems to have past for now.”

“I beg to differ, it’s still raining here,” Timothy mused as he looked out the window over the sink.

“No! She meant that whatever words Ben and the father were having seem to be over. Judi said she’s going to take the opportunity to go over to their table to say hello and do some first-hand snooping whilst David settles the bill.”

“I love that Judi uses the proper word for what she’s doing! Snooping! Perfect!”

“It’s not snooping. It’s being…”

“Curious. Yes. I know. It seems I’ve heard that explanation many times over and in this very room, too.”

“Judi’s doing us a favour, Tim! Don’t be so sarcastic!”

“She’s doing _you_ a favour, Pet. I can wait until I hear it from Ben later on.”

“Well, I can’t!”

_Judi is every bit as bad as Wanda. Both of them fancy nosying about rather than minding their own business._

“Does Agent Dench realize that she’s entering enemy territory? That’s rather risky behaviour on her part,” mused Timothy as he took his place at the small table. “Would you mind fetching the cream and sugar, Commander. I realize these domestic chores are above someone of your coveted rank within our humble little organization but…”

“Sod off, Tim!” snapped Wanda with a cheeky grin. “I get the hint. You fancy your pudding _now_.”

“It took you long enough,” muttered Timothy Carlton, licking some lemony glaze off his finger.

 

*************************************************************

 

Benedict Cumberbatch folded his hands on the tabletop as he steeled himself for Neil Saint James’ next words.   He could see that Donna was clearly in a panic. Antonia sat beside her husband, her brown eyes boring into Benedict as if trying to read his thoughts.

_Alright, you dick. Have your say, but just remember that I will also have mine once you’re done._

“As I was saying, Ben, I wouldn’t rewrite the past if given the opportunity. That’s something you and your mother are going to have to come to terms with. As far as I’m concerned, I went to Regents Park that summer to watch and review three plays, all of which you happened to be in. I did my job to the best of my ability – whether or not either of you agree with it. Reviewing is a subjective business no matter what anyone tells you. The papers trust the critics to give as unbiased and fair a review as possible based on what they’re seeing; but personal taste is always going to be an influencing factor. I can’t help what I like or don’t like any more than you or Toni or Donna or your mother can. Donna encounters this quite often in her own job as a food critic.”

_Mum is going to eat him for lunch tomorrow. I must make sure to keep them apart. I’ll call Dad later on from the roof terrace once Donna’s asleep._

“That was more than thirty words,” pointed out Benedict dryly.

Neil smiled condescendingly across the table at Benedict, who gave him a smug smile in return.

“My pa would call you a right cheeky bastard.”

“And your pa would be right,” smirked Benedict, feeling confident. “You’ll find I’m also quite adept at snark as well as cheek.”

“Of that I have no doubt,” laughed Neil.

The tension at the table had grown very thick once again. “Stop baiting him, Ben,” hissed Donna.  She caught Toni making eyes at her across the table to be quiet.

_Good gravy! Everyone wants me to be quiet tonight. I guess I need to throw in the towel and let them duke it out in public. I don’t have to come back here and eat. It was fun while it lasted, wasn’t it?_

“Anyway, when I told my friend, Rodney Renfield - who I know you’re acquainted with - that Donna was dating you, talk naturally turned to your career.”

“Really now? I can’t imagine why that would have happened?” exclaimed Benedict in mock astonishment. “Was this before or after your wife released her sniffer dogs to investigate me?”

Neil chose to ignore the barbed comment. “My wife and I were concerned that Donna had taken up with yet another out-of-work actor.”

_Hmmm…my Donna does seem attracted to men in the entertainment industry.  
_

_I love how Dad keeps bringing that up. Like dating actors or singers was something to be ashamed of. To be fair Michael and Jonathan weren’t very good actors; but Danny was a very talented singer._

“I may be many things, but you can’t sit there and refer to me as an out-of-work actor.”

“No, I can’t. You’re very fortunate to have been working steadily since you got over that one slump.”

“Yeah, that ‘slump’ was a two-month depression caused by you.”

“You seemed to have worked it out without needing therapy.”

_Bloody fucking hell! How would he know if I ever saw a psychiatrist? Oh, so stupid, Benedict. Antonia’s investigators could have easily found out something like that._

“Toni and I are actually very pleased that you keep getting offers.”

_And now my honey is going to say: it’s an embarrassment of riches,_ thought Donna.

Benedict blushed slightly. “It’s an embarrassment of riches.”

“You’re very fond of that phrase,” mused Toni. “You’ve used it several times over the course of the evening.”

“It’s his favorite phrase, Mom,” said Donna in a barely audible voice.

“That’s a phrase you could lose,” quipped Neil. “It makes you sound ever more pretentious than you are.”

Benedict appeared momentarily startled. Now, _he sounds like Karon! She said that to me only recently_.

“My intent is not to come off as sounding pretentious when I say that, Neil. I really do mean that. I truly am thankful for all the marvelous opportunities that have come my way so far,” said an exasperated Benedict. “I thought it made me sound humble,” he added.

“Well, it doesn’t,” said Neil.

“You’re wrong, Dad! There isn’t a pretentious bone in Benedict’s body!” exclaimed Donna. “He’s one of the most humble and modest men I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing.”

One of the food runners returned to their table with their coffees and Donna’s tea.   Benedict blew gently on the surface of his espresso before taking a sip. He smacked his lips in satisfaction.

“I do believe we got derailed once again,” said Benedict with a bitter laugh. “As you were, please, Neil.”

Neil sipped his cappuccino thoughtfully before speaking. “We were talking about my conversation with Rod. To be honest, I had not bothered following your budding career once I returned to New York. Rod would mention you every now and then in passing; but I never paid much attention.”

_Lucky for me. Not that I give two shits what he thinks. Oh, yes you do, Benedict. Admit it. You care a lot about what he thinks. He’s always been a very powerful and influential critic – and now he’s the Arts and Leisure Editor with the motherfucking New York Times. He’s more important than Rodney fucking Renfield. Neil Saint James has been known to make or break careers based on just one of his reviews._

“Rod assured me I had nothing to worry about regarding the path your career had taken as you had been steadily making a name for yourself. He indicated that you had managed to build a reputation as a decent and respected actor, who was involved not only in stage but other media as well.”

“Variety is important to me,” explained Benedict. “I don’t want to limit myself to just one mode of entertainment when there are so many opportunities out there just waiting to be sampled. It keeps the work fresh and interesting.”

“There are many actors who make a fine living just doing stage shows or films over the course of their respective careers,” pointed out Neil.

“I’d get bored just being on stage all the time,” admitted Benedict. “Films, telly, radio programs and voice over work give me a chance to challenge myself and branch out into different areas. I yearn to perfect my craft to the best of my ability, and one needs to challenge oneself in order to accomplish that yes? I’m in it for the longevity.”

Donna saw her father actually smile and nod as Benedict was speaking.

“I admire that fact that you are treating your career as a constant work in progress, Ben. That’s important for an actor to keep pushing themselves to their limit and beyond. It’s wise to want to branch out and stretch your wings. Who knows where it can lead one day.”

“My parents have always told me that the possibilities are endless,” said Benedict fondly. “They’ve been very supportive and encouraging as has your daughter,” he added, favouring her with a warm smile. “Donna’s my biggest fan and my toughest critic. I appreciate the fact that she has no qualms about telling me if she thinks something I’ve done is rubbish.”

“I’ve never said you’ve given a rubbish performance!” cried Donna. “I’ve loved everything I’ve seen you in so far.”

“You’re too kind, Darling. Have you seen any of my work since that summer, Neil?”  

_Nope. Dad hasn’t. Shame on him._

“As a matter of fact, yes, I have.”

Donna did a double take. _What the heck?   He said he lost interest in Benedict after that summer._   

“Excuse me, Dad, but you told me you hadn’t see any of Benedict’s work. When did this happen? Am I missing something?”

“You didn’t give me a chance to finish what I was saying the other night, Muffin. While it’s true I’ve only seen you live back in 2002, I’ve had the opportunity to see some of your taped productions.”

_That’s impossible!   When did he have time?   This is like the Twilight Zone.  
_

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck. _Hmmmm…methinks Rodney Renfield provided him with some of my works or he found some online._

“Rod felt I was being unnecessarily hard on you and had rightfully suggested that I make the time to view some of your work to see for myself how much you’d grown as an actor since that summer.”

Benedict sat up ramrod straight in his chair, ice blue eyes focused solely on Donna’s father.

_Bloody hell! Rodney Renfield said I have grown as an actor? Now, that is an unexpected compliment. Mum and Dad would be chuffed to hear that.  
_

_Hmmmm…Uncle Rodney has been paying attention to Benedict’s career, and seems impressed by his progress. I bet he told Dad what to watch._

“Anyway, a few days before we left, Toni and I downloaded some of your works and watched them for ourselves on my laptop while waiting at the airport and during the flight over…”

_Ah ha! They started their Benedict Cumberbatch Marathon before they left. They must have been watching at night after dinner. They always bring Dad’s laptop, so they could have easily continued it at the airport. Only they actually arrive three hours early, so they had ample time to watch something while waiting to board the plane. They could have easily seen three movies or a mini-series on the flight over because they rarely sleep. Maybe Mom slept, but Dad would have been going full tilt._

“…Rod had emailed me a couple of other files prior to our leaving. Of course I didn’t have time to watch everything in its entirety, but we saw enough to tell you that Toni and I were both pleasantly surprised.”

Benedict shook his head to clear it. _Did he just say he was pleasantly surprised with my work???? I must be dreaming.  
_

Donna squeezed Benedict’s knee under the table. _Did Dad just say he liked some of Benedict’s work? How unexpected was that?  
_

“Which of my performances have you seen?” asked Benedict hesitantly.

_I bet it was Hawking. That’s one of my best performances to date. He’d be hard pressed to find anything wrong with that._

“Well, for starters, your work in _Hawking_ was excellent. I watched the whole thing. Your portrayal of Stephen Hawking was on point. You deserved the BAFTA nomination, and it was a shame you didn’t win. I didn’t care much for _Starter for 10_ ; but you displayed a flare for comedy that was unexpected. Your performances in _Atonement_ , _Amazing Grace_ , _To the Ends of the Earth_ and _Stuart: A Life Backwards_ were also commendable performances.”

“Oh, I loved _To the Ends of the Earth_!” exclaimed Donna. _I loved seeing him in that naked shower scene.  
_

_My love just likes it because she got to see me without clothes. That’s not what I’d call a bonafide endorsement.  
_

“You didn’t watch it for the plot, Darling,” scoffed Benedict. “As I found out on one of our first dates…”

“That I had been watching it on the DVD,” interrupted Donna. “We were going to watch _Casablanca_ , and I was embarrassed to let him see that I had been viewing one of his movies.” She barked out a nervous laugh. “I didn’t want him to think I was weird or anything.”

_Shut up, Ben! And shut up NOW!  
_

The sides of Neil’s left and Toni’s right hands ever-so-slightly grazed each other.

_Damn! That’s one of the mini-series they watched. They know why I’m so fond of it._

“Your daughter had the DVD player set to loop my shower scene,” laughed Benedict. “She’s ever the naughty girl,” he smirked. _  
_

_My daughter must have enjoyed seeing him nude,_ thought Neil _. He does have a decent build, but is much thinner now. He needs a little weight on him. I recall Rod saying he lost quite a bit of weight for that role as the cancer patient in Third Star.  
_

_Benedict does have a very nice physique,_ thought Toni _. I could see why it would be her favorite. He looked good in The Last Enemy, too. I wish he weren’t so skinny now, but Rod said he had to lose weight for Third Star because the Sherlock contract specifically stated he could not modify his hair in any way – such as shaving his head for a role. Donna needs to make him some lasagna and cannoli.  
_

“Shush!” Donna hissed, as she moved her foot against his under the table. “Please!” _  
_

Toni fiddled with her ring, seemingly preoccupied with her thoughts. Every now and then, she glanced across at Benedict from under her eyelashes.

_I know that look. Mom’s making up her mind as to how to tell him that there was something she didn’t like. I wonder what it was._

“I have to say that I hated _Fortysomething_. Not you, but the show itself.”

“ _Fortysomething_ was an insufferable sitcom, which I had to force myself to get through,” continued Neil. “Those were six episodes of pure torture. I’m surprised Hugh Laurie accepted such a role, but he may have needed the money. Anyway, _The Last Enemy_ wasn’t too bad – I’ve seen similar plot lines before. However, your performance managed to rise above the mediocre script.”

“It was the male lead, and I wanted the experience,” said Benedict.

“Sometimes it’s better to say no, but we’ve had that discussion. I do believe your strength lies in your stage work, oddly enough. Given your shaky beginning, you’ve found your mettle on the stage. _Hedda Gabbler_ was in short, a triumph and worthy of all the nominations and accolades it received.”

_I’ve died and gone to critic heaven. Mum and Dad will not believe this. I don’t believe this!   This was worth all the cat and mouse games we’ve been playing tonight. I never thought I’d hear him say anything nice about me to my face!_

“What left a bad taste in my mouth was the rumor Rod told me that was flying around the theatre community about your having an affair with your co-star during the run of the show.”

_And now the other shoe drops. Oh, he’s a tough son of bitch._

Donna’s ears perked up. _Okay, this is something I’d like to hear Benedict expound upon.  
_

_Just tell them the truth, Benedict. Nothing is sacred in the acting community. Everyone and their mother knew what was going on. Mum and Dad even heard the tea._

Benedict rolled his eyes in frustration. “Before we go down that road, I want to state for the record…”

Toni laughed silently to herself. _Spoken like a true witness, Benedict, though you’d need a ridiculous amount of prep work before I’d ever put you on the witness stand!_

“…that I wasn’t having an affair with my co-star. My former partner, Olivia, and I had called a time out on our relationship. Things weren’t working, and we mutually decided to take a break to see if we truly wanted to be together and…well, part of the agreement was seeing other people if we so fancied during said break.”

"He's talking about Olivia Poulet," Toni whispered to her husband.  "She's the girl he was with for over ten years on and off.  They met in an acting class at Manchester," whispered Toni.

Neil eyed Benedict suspiciously. “And was your co-star someone you were attracted to I take it?”

“Erm…well, yeah. She was,” replied Benedict, furiously rubbing his thigh. “I fancied her from the start. There was a definite mutual attraction and a little harmless flirting soon turned to serious flirting and if things had continued there would have been an affair...so erm...yeah...I was very much attracted.”

“But there wasn’t,” stated Toni.

Benedict shook his head. “No. We stopped just short of embarking upon one. Olivia had come around one afternoon to make amends, and we managed to sort things out and took up where we left off.  However, as you can see, things weren’t destined to work out between us.” He crinkled his nose and smiled at Donna, who continued to stare at him with rapt attention. 

“Rod said the story is that Olivia interrupted a tryst,” declared Neil with a raised eyebrow.

Benedict smacked his palm on the table top, causing all the silverware and dishes to rattle. “Bloody hell! Is there anything about me you people don’t know?”

“Probably, but it wouldn’t be for lack of trying,” retorted Toni. “You were with Olivia Poulet for quite a while – over a decade sporadically. You should know up front that Neil and I don’t condone cheating.”

“Excuse me, Mom, Dad,” chimed in Donna angrily. “This isn’t for either of you to condone or not condone.”

“These things should be out in the open, Muffin,” said Toni gently. “We don’t want you getting hurt.”

“I appreciate your concern, Mom and Dad; but if anyone has the right to condone Benedict’s behavior, it’s me.”

“Erm...actually, it isn’t, Donna. At least not for things that occurred in the past,” said Benedict quietly, yet firmly. “That all took place well before we met. A lot of water has flowed under the bridge since then. I’m a different person – I’d like to think that I’ve grown and matured over these past four years into a better one. Did we not agree that whatever happened in our pasts needs to remain there rather than pollute our future?”

_Pollute our future? He’s so damn wordy,_ thought Neil. _I’ve got such a headache from listening to him all night. How does my daughter stand him? She hangs onto his every word as if he were reading from the Gospel. It must be true love._

“Yeah. We did,” agreed Donna, nodding vigorously.

_And the Plan is one of those things that needs to remain buried; but it doesn’t really qualify as the past even though it technically happened right before the night we met_. _I guess it is technically in the past, so I shouldn't worry so much. Listen to me – I’m starting to justify this like Wanda does._

“None of you have anything to be concerned about as far as my fidelity goes. Said tryst never got off the ground. Olivia barged into my dressing room unexpectedly and that effectively ended the proceedings before they even started,” said Benedict. “And now that we’ve all made a right meal of it, I don’t ever want to discuss it again.”

_He got caught in a compromising position,_ thought Toni.

_He got caught with his pants down. Literally_ , thought Neil.

_My honey was about to get laid when Oliva walked in_ , thought Donna. _Another minute or two and it would have been a successful tryst.  
_

“What you just said, Ben, is the whole point of my little speech,” began Neil in a reasonable tone. “You just stated for us that what’s transpired in your past, is just that – in your past and should be put to rest. I’m all for that, which brings me to what I’ve been trying to say all this time while we keep straying off the path. What happened in the past, needs to remain there. Those reviews I did in 2002, as well as your mother’s rebuttal to me, need to be forgotten about. We need to let bygones be bygones and move forward.”

Benedict laughed harshly. “Well, you don’t know my mother then. She never forgets or forgives what she considers a slight or an insult to herself or her family. I’m afraid you’re not going to get off that easy tomorrow. I fear an epic row is in store for you.”

Neil listened and nodded. “Then let her have a go at me. I’ve skin as thick as armor. Maybe what your mother needs is to be able to vent to me in person, and I’m fine with that.”

Benedict’s eyes widened in surprise. “Are you now? Do you have any idea what you’re letting yourself in for? Hell hath no fury like Wanda Ventham scorned.”

“I’m sure your mother is a force to be reckoned with, but I’m up to whatever she can dish out. I relish nothing more than a good challenge,” smiled Neil. “The most important thing to me is that you and my daughter love each other and desire to have a future together. Your parents, as well as Toni and I, are going to be a part of that future. It’s imperative that we are all able to get along regardless of what’s transpired in the past.”

“Should the day come that you and Donna marry, we will all be bound together,” added Toni. “That will make us family, and family is the most important thing in the world as far as I’m concerned. We believe in taking care of and standing by our family regardless of what may happen. Neil and I bear no ill will towards you or your parents, Benedict. We look forward to meeting them and getting to know them as we have with you.”

_I wish I could say the same about them,_ thought Benedict. _I think my brain just shut down for the night. This has been too much to take in and digest. What I do know is that it’s paramount that I call Dad to fill him in._

“Agreed,” said Benedict. His eyes met Donna’s briefly. He could see that she was as totally baffled by the conversation as he was.

“You’ve come a long way since that first night I laid eyes on you in Regents Park,” continued Neil. “I think if you don’t deviate from this path you have chosen and continue to make solid and fairly sensible career choices like you have been, your star will continue to rise. Just steer clear of dumb sitcoms like _Fortysomething_ , American accents and getting typecast in period biopics.”

_I’m sat here and fucking cannot believe what I’m hearing!_ Thought Benedict, suddenly feeling elated. _He’s actually given me positive feedback. Neil motherfucking Saint James has just given me positive feedback._

_Daddy just praised Benedict – in front of witnesses, too. Though Mom would say a wife can’t be a witness against her own husband._

“Do you know that woman across the room who Donna mentioned before, Benedict?” queried Toni. “She’s headed this way, as if she were on a mission. She looks vaguely familiar.”

Neil chuckled. “She should look familiar, Toni. We’ve seen enough of her films and TV shows. That’s Judi Dench, and she’s definitely coming our way.”

_Oh, fuck me,_ thought Benedict Cumberbatch. _I wonder if Mum dispatched her to spy on us. I wouldn’t put it past her, and Judi would only be too happy to do it._ _This is just what I don’t need!_

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I've never had the Baked Alaska at the Ivy Club; but I'm sure it is as delicious as the rest of their food.
> 
> 2\. Donna's critiques of all food are her own. ;-D
> 
> 3\. It is my intent that Benedict and Donna's parents come to an understanding of sorts - particularly when it comes to the dynamics between Benedict and Neil Saint James. They will never be BFF's but over the course of the story, their relationship will develop and evolve.


	103. Chapter 103

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dinner at the Ivy Club – Part 4. Judi Dench pays an unexpected visit to the table and winds up taking the witness stand. Benedict and Neil continue to spar. Benedict and Donna return to Hampstead and file their reports with Timothy and Carly, respectively. 
> 
> Note: I’ll be using ********* to indicate things happening at the same time.

 

Benedict Cumberbatch and Donna Saint James both turned their heads as Dame Judi Dench was making her way towards their table. Most eyes in the room were on the Oscar-winning actress as she purposefully crossed the room. Benedict broke out into a wide grin as he got to his feet.

“Holy shit! It _is_ Judi Dench,” whispered Donna. “She’s coming over to our table.”

“She’s stunning in person,” remarked Toni quietly. “Such a beautiful woman.”

“It really _is_ Judi Dench!” Repeated Donna in awe.

“There’s no need to get up, Ben. I just wanted to say hello,” Judi said with a huge smile as they exchanged double-cheeked kisses and hugged.

“Are you here with David? Have you eaten yet?” inquired Benedict.

“Yes, and we just finished; so I told David I was coming over to say hello whilst he settles the bill.”

Benedict indicated Donna. “Judi, this is my girlfriend, Donna Saint James,” he said, beaming with pride. “And these are Donna’s parents, Antonia and Neil Saint James. Allow me to present Dame Judi Dench.”

Donna noticed a flash of recognition in Judi’s eyes as they came to rest upon her father. It wasn’t a happy expression either. The smile had gone out of her eyes.

_Do I address her as Ms. Dench or Dame Judi? I think it’s the same protocol that I used for Anthony Hopkins. Oh, Judi doesn’t look very happy. I’m judging by that sour look on her face that she remembers when Dad panned that play she was in. Little does she know that Dad is a tremendous fan of her work. Judi Dench has the honor of being one of the few living actresses whose work he consistently praises._

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dame Judi!” gushed Donna as she began to get up.

The older woman gently laid a hand on Donna’s shoulder to prevent her from rising. Benedict noticed that Judi continued to study Neil Saint James with a mixture of what appeared to be fascination and loathing. Finally, it seemed she realized that she had been staring and suddenly shifted her gaze back to Donna. Judi patted Donna’s shoulder as she smiled at her warmly.

“Please call me Judi, and please don’t get up on my account. I’m only going to stay a minute at most. I just wanted to say hello.”

“It’s an honor to meet you,” interrupted Neil, who had sprung to his feet and rushed around the table in order to shake hands with the award-winning actress.

_Wow! Dad so rarely fawns over any actor or actress. There are so many that he holds in contempt. Not Judi Dench though. I’d venture a guess as to say he’s got a bit of a crush on her._

“I wish I could say the same,” quipped Judi with a haughty laugh. “Your reputation proceeds you, Mr. Saint James; and not in a good way.”

_Holy cow! Judi Dench fires the first volley. I never would have pegged her for that type,_ thought Donna. She looked up at Benedict in time to see him do a double-take at Judi’s words.

_Blimey! So Judi’s been touched by the infamous poisoned pen of Neil Saint James. I love how she had the bollocks to address him the way she did. Oh, wait until I tell Mum and Dad! They will be over-the-moon!_

Neil smiled graciously at Judi as he let go of her hand. “Well, it seems you’ve been blessed with a long memory to match your long and distinguished career. I only recall you being in one flop that I had the privilege of reviewing.”

“A good memory is paramount to an actor,” retorted Judi. “Just for the record, the play wasn’t a total flop,” she said pointedly.

“And that’s because your stellar performance was the only saving grace in it,” shot back Neil. “Big names also sell tickets. The hard core fans will always show up to support their favorites regardless of whether the material is any good or not. They came to see you, and you rarely disappoint - if ever. You’ve managed to successfully keep a lid on the rare overacting I’ve found you guilty of.”

_Overacting? Bloody hell! No one is safe from the likes of Neil Saint James. He giveth the compliment then takes it away in the next breath,_ thought Benedict.

_Oh, she was a bit miffed there. She should realize that’s the highest praise an actress could ever hope to get from Dad._

Judi smiled thinly at Neil. “To be honest, I’ve always been rather fond of your snarky reviews – as long as any of it wasn’t aimed at me personally.” She gave a short laugh in an effort to mask her annoyance.

“You’ve seldom given me reason to, Dame Judi,” said Neil with absolute sincerity. “And that’s not meant to be flattery. It’s the simple truth.”

_No one is immune to that barbed tongue,_ thought Benedict _. Why should I be surprised then? He thinks nothing of hurling insults at me, so why not at Judi, too? Every actor is fair game as far as he’s concerned. Maybe I should let Mum have a go at him after all. He’d deserve it. On second thought, maybe not._

_I notice Dame Judi is not disputing what Dad just said. Could it be she agrees with him?_

Judi nodded thoughtfully and this time her smile had some actual warmth in it. “Well, this went better than I had thought it would.”

_What in the hell does she mean by that? Was this a planned encounter after all?_ Wondered Benedict, watching her with a slight frown on his handsome face. _That’s an odd choice of words…as if Judi knew she was going to meet Neil Saint James tonight. Did she know? It couldn’t be true, could it? It must be. Judi knew I was going to be here with Donna and her parents, and I know just who told her. Mum. She really did send her to see how things were going._

Judi turned her attention back to Donna. “It’s very lovely to meet you, Donna,” she said offering a hand to a star-struck Donna, who immediately dropped her napkin onto the floor as she got up.

“This really is an honor…Judi,” said Donna. “I’m a huge fan of your work!”

“And I’m a huge fan of your work as well! I adore your column,” laughed Judi. “I fancy nothing more on a Sunday morning than having a coffee and read of your column.”

“Thank you. I’m so humbled,” said Donna, face reddening. “I don’t know what else to say.”

“That was sufficient,” whispered Benedict. “She’s not royalty or anything. It’s just Mum’s friend, Judi.”

“Wanda has told me so much about you that I feel as if I know you,” continued Judi. “She and Tim adore you and are over-the-moon that you and Ben have gotten together.”

Benedict sighed inwardly with relief. _Well, at least she didn’t launch into the ‘poor Ben couldn’t find a bird’ routine. I don’t think I could have listened to that again._

“That was so sweet of Wanda to say that!” exclaimed Donna. “I adore them both as well.”

Benedict stood perfectly still, gazing from Judi to Donna with narrowed eyes as they chatted. The alarm bell in his mind had gone off, allowing long-forgotten thoughts to once again come to the surface.

_Hmmmm…fancy that. Mum barely asked Donna any questions about herself at Sunday lunch, yet she somehow was able to tell Judi all about her. I find it interesting that Donna also knows things about Mum and Dad that I’ve never told her…things that only they would have told her. The question is when did they have the opportunity to get together other than that Sunday? I recall Donna letting it be known that she and Mum have chatted on the phone a few times, yet Mum’s never mentioned it. There’s also a weird bond between Donna and Dad. I can’t put my finger on it, but it seems as if they’ve spent time in each other’s company prior to that Sunday – without me. I recall Dad and Donna had only met briefly the afternoon Donna was having a coffee date with Jimmy in the same café. The three of them are too comfortable in each other’s company, not to mention the hugging which neither of my parents would do when meeting one of my girlfriends for the first time. Unless it wasn’t the first time…_

“Benedict? Hello! Earth to Benedict!”

Benedict suddenly realized that Donna was speaking to him. He shook his head as if to clear it and smiled shyly at her. Judi had moved around the table, and was now standing in between Neil and Antonia, whom she was speaking very animatedly to.

“Sorry, come again?”

“Where were you just now? You looked so deep in thought.”

“I was just marveling how Judi and your mum are getting along.”

“It’s surreal,” whispered Donna. “She’s even warmed up to my Dad somewhat. She just told him to call her ‘Judi’ if you can believe that!”

_No. I can’t, but if Donna says Judi did, she did._

“Wonders never cease,” mused Benedict.

“Well, I best be going,” said Judi. “I see David’s ready to head out. It was just lovely to meet you all.”

“The feeling is mutual,” said Toni. “You have my card, so you know how to contact me when you’re next in New York.”

_For fucks sake! Judi meeting up with Donna’s mum when she’s next in the States? What did I miss while I was in the midst of that daydream? I need to pay closer attention._

Judi tucked the business card into her handbag and came back around the table in order to address Benedict.

“I was just texting Wanda that we need to put our heads together and finalize the details for your dad’s birthday party. October is right around the corner.”

_For heavens sake! I just let Ben know that I was texting with Wanda. He’s going to think this whole thing was planned. Hopefully, he didn’t catch that._

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck. “Erm…yeah. We need to do that. Christ, there are a lot of parties to help plan. I don’t know where I’m going to find the time. I just found out recently that Donna’s got one in the works for her grandparents in November.”

It was Neil and Toni’s turn to look puzzled. They both exchanged glances and regarded Donna with quizzical expressions.

“What party?” asked Neil, scratching his head in bewilderment. “This is the first we’re hearing about it.”

“Are you talking about Nona and Popi?” inquired Toni.

Donna felt Benedict’s eyes boring into her.

_Shit, shit, shit!!!   I’m going to have to fill Carly in on this as soon as I can get to the bathroom. I’ll run out while Ben’s paying the bill._

“Yeah! I…um…thought since I’ll be in New York in November, we could give Nona and Popi a surprise anniversary dinner,” said Donna. “Just our family: You and Dad; Me, Kenny, Scarlett and the kids and Carly and Steve, of course.”

“Neither Carly nor Kenny mentioned this to us,” commented Neil.

“Well, that’s because I haven’t discussed it with them yet,” retorted Donna.

_Now, I don’t have to bring Carly into it. That was quick thinking on my part. Oh, oh. Benedict just raised his eyebrow at me. He knows I definitely would have discussed something like this with Carly by now. Is it me or does Judi suddenly look relieved – as if the heat is off her for the moment._

Toni and Neil both exchanged confused glances. “Why would you have a surprise anniversary dinner for them?” asked Toni with a frown. “Am I missing something, Muffin?”

“Well, it _is_ a milestone anniversary for them after all.”

“Is it? I don’t consider being married 59 years a milestone,” declared Toni, eyeing her daughter suspiciously. “Now, sixty is definitely one; and my siblings and I do plan on having a surprise party to celebrate – but not until next year.”

_Shit! I’m a year off. Oh, crap. Benedict’s giving me that look that says he’s not buying it._

Donna barked out a nervous laugh. “Oh, silly me! I’m a year off! I’ve always been lousy at math.”

“Since when?” Countered Neil. “You won the Math Fair three times in middle school and were in Honors Math throughout High School.”

“Donna must be confusing herself with me,” snickered Benedict. “I’m the one who’s bad at maths. I’ve seen her add quite an impressive amount of figures in her head. Whenever we're shopping the sales, she's the first one to compute the savings - all in her head.  I have to use a bloody calculator. I'm utterly in awe of her.”

“Donna’s been helping me prepare our income taxes every year since she turned twelve,” continued Neil. “You don’t see many kids who have an interest in doing taxes.”

“No, you don’t,” agreed Benedict. “What an interesting hobby, Love. You’re just full of surprises.”

_Like you don’t know, Ben Honey. Like you don’t know._

“I think I’m going to have to ask you to help me fill out mine next year because I’m totes rubbish at it.”

“I’m sure she’s the girl for the job,” said Neil. “That’s why I was so surprised when you mixed up the years of Nona and Popi’s anniversary. You’re always so on top of those things, Muffin.”

Donna cringed inwardly. “Silly me! How about that?”

Donna side-eyed Benedict, who was smiling like the Cheshire Cat “How about that indeed? My silly, silly Muffin,” he said in a low voice.

“Shut up. Please,” hissed Donna under her breath.

_This would be a brilliant time for me to make a hasty exit while they’re sorting out the party business,_ thought Judi.

“Well, now that we’ve got the anniversary party sorted, when did you last discuss Dad’s party with Mum, Judi?” asked Benedict. “I could swear you said that you were texting her tonight.”

Judi looked like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming cab. _Too late! I wasn’t quick enough. I thought he wouldn’t go back to Tim’s party. Damn! Back to square one. I can do this!_

“Did I say that? Old age must be playing tricks on me again! I meant to say that we were discussing it the other day whilst we were having lunch at the Roof Gardens of Babylon. Have any of you been to the Roof Gardens?” Judi asked Donna and her family. “It’s right on Kensington High Street, not far from Wanda and Tim’s flat. It’s an utterly breathtaking venue.”

“No,” replied Donna. “Wanda said it was a beautiful setting and the food was delicious.”

An alarm bell went off inside Benedict’s head again.

_When did Donna speak with Mum about the Roof Gardens? Mum is the one who told me to mention it to Donna and take her there. There’s something very odd here._

Benedict placed his hands on Donna’s shoulders and looked down at her. “When was this, Sweetheart? I don’t recall Mum telling me you two had spoken. Why she was only telling me about the Roof Gardens recently and suggested that I take you to see them and have lunch.”

_Damn! He misses nothing!_ Thought Donna. _And right in front of Judi Dench. I need to shut him down._

_Hmmm…I can feel the muscles in Donna’s shoulders tensing up. I think I might be on to something._

“I called her up and we had a nice chat while you were in Wales. Really, Benedict, do you have to know _everything_ that goes on?” Donna said, trying to make light of it.

“What I meant was…” began Benedict.

“I would think you’d be happy that your mom and I want to take the time to get to know each other.”

Benedict’s face reddened as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Of course I do. I couldn’t be more chuffed.”

“I think its lovely that you reached out to Benedict’s mother,” said Toni.

“It’s paramount to get along with your boyfriend’s mother,” added Judi. “Ringing up Wanda must have pleased her to no end.”

The food runners appeared with the desserts just in the nick of time as far as Donna and Judi were concerned. The two women’s eyes met and an unspoken understanding passed between them.

_Jesus! Judi knows what he’s capable of! She’s trying to get away before Barrister Ben makes an appearance._

Judi surveyed the contents of the dessert plates with great interest.

“My, don’t those puddings look fabulous! I had the chocolate crunch bar, myself, which was brilliant. It was served with green tea ice cream of all things! David had their version of an Eton Mess, but prefers the original. I told your mother that mine was by far the better choice.”

Judi quickly averted her eyes. She began to wring her hands nervously. _Shit. That was a fatal mistake. First, I said I texted Wanda. Then I said I didn’t. Now I just said I spoke with her when I actually texted her. Fuck me for being so inconsistent as well as a bad liar! Look at Benedict’s face. Now he knows I came over here to investigate._

Benedict made a show of glancing over at the table previously occupied by Judi and her partner.

“Forgive me, Judi, but I’m confused. Mum’s not here. She and Dad were going to stay in tonight in order to prepare for meeting Donna’s parents tomorrow. When did you two speak?”

Judi laughed nervously. “What I should have said is that I texted her a photo of the puddings. We often take photos of our more interesting restaurant meals with our mobiles and share them,” she explained. “Haven’t you ever done that?”

“We do that all the time with our family and friends,” replied Donna. “Though I do have to take some for my column.”

“Would you mind terribly if I had a look then? It sounded intriguing on the menu,” said Benedict.

_Holy Cow! And now we have a guest appearance by Barrister Ben! I wonder if Judi has had any experience in dealing with that side of my honey?_ Thought Donna.

“I almost ordered it. Just curious for the next time,” added Benedict with a lop-sided, dimpled smile and nose crinkle.

_Ah, and he favors Dame Judi with one of his famous cute smiles with added bonus nose crinkles and dimples. I like how confident he is that there will be a next time. He should have said ‘if’ there is a next time_ , thought Donna. _I saw the Maitre-D stick his head in here to see what’s going on_. _I wonder if someone complained about us being too loud._

_Cumberbatch certainly is persistent,_ thought Neil with amusement _. I do like that he doesn’t back down. The man shows evidence of having a spine._

_Benedict’s attempting to charm Judi Dench,_ thought Toni. _I wonder if she’s impervious or will she succumb. Given the right training, he could be an excellent trial lawyer._

Judi felt a sudden chill creep up her spine, as she felt Benedict’s icy blue stare.

_No, Ben! You can’t see my mobile! I’ve sent several sneaky photos of Donna and her family to Wanda. If I get out my mobile, he’ll stand over me and see that I’ve been busy texting the blow-by-blow progression of this dinner._   _Hmmm…this is what Wanda means by him suddenly turning into Barrister Ben? Not to worry, I can handle him. That nose crinkle doesn’t work on me. I’ve seen him do that before to Wanda when trying to wheedle something out of her countless times._

“Oh, I didn’t actually _take_ the photo. I’m all thumbs when it comes to working these gadgets on my mobile. David took it with his, which is with him,” explained Judi smoothly. _And thank God he didn’t choose to follow me or Ben would now be asking him._

Benedict raised a quizzical eyebrow at her as his pondered her explanation.

_I don’t buy that for one minute. I’ve seen Judi using her mobile. She’s no stranger to the camera ‘gadget’. I’ve been there when Judi’s been out with Mum and their friends and acted as the group’s photographer. She probably doesn’t realize that Mum always forwards the emails and attachments to me. Mum’s mistake for having sent them to me in the first place, so I know better. Hell, I’ve actually seen Judi take selfies of her and Mum in our flat, though I won’t call her out on it out of respect. Mum knew we were going to be here and sent Judi to act as her eyes and ears. Judi doesn’t want me seeing her mobile, because she’s probably been texting and sending photos to Mum all night. I’ll try a different approach. I can smell a set up a kilometer away._

“So, Mum told you we were having dinner here then,” said Benedict.

Toni was watching the little scene play out with increasing interest. _He thinks his mother sent Judi Dench to spy on us. That’s rich!_

Donna rolled her eyes. _I can’t believe he’s grilling Judi Dench, of all people and in front of us no less. The man has no shame when he’s on a quest for knowledge._

_Wanda wasn’t kidding about him,_ thought Judi. _I used to laugh my arse off whenever she’d go into one of her imitations of him. I’m not laughing now that the shoe’s on the other foot_.

“I had no idea you were going to be here, Ben!” exclaimed Judi, playfully swatting his forearm. “You make it sound as if I were here on some sort of clandestine mission!”

_Aren’t you though?_ Wondered Benedict.

“Why David and I were already sat and half way through our mains when I spotted you in the entrance to the dining room. I even waved at you, but you didn’t see me.”

“So you told Mum that you saw me yes?”

_Hmmm…I wonder what the correct response should be. I think I’m screwed either way, but I’ll go with the truth since it’s the path of least resistance._

“Exactly! I texted Wanda that you were here, and that’s when she said you were meeting Donna’s parents for the first time. I thought it would be a good opportunity for me to say hello and to meet Donna as well.”

_And spy for Mum at the same time. Well done you, Judi. You almost had me convinced. I expected better from an Oscar-winner._

“Well, I’ve taken up enough of your time. Lovely to have met you all,” smiled Judi. “Enjoy the rest of your meal.”

Benedict leaned down and double-cheek kissed Judi. “Thank you for stopping by. It’s always such a treat to see you, Judi.”

“And you as well, my handsome Ben,” said Judi, reaching up to pat his cheek with a twinkle in her eyes. “Best of luck to you. It does my heart good to see you so besotted again!”

Donna and her parents watched as Judi Dench left the dining room arm-in-arm with her partner. All the onlookers had returned to their conversations and meals. Benedict caught sight of Donna about to step on her napkin.

“Donna! Stop! Let me get that!”

“What’s going on? Whooooooaaaaaaaaaa!” exclaimed Donna as her foot slipped on the napkin and she fell into Benedict’s arms.

“Are you okay?” he asked with concern.

Donna nodded. “Yes! I didn’t even realize I had dropped it.”

“I suppose we can now tell our children that you literally fell for me,” giggled Benedict, helping Donna back into her chair.

“I had no idea you knew Judi Dench,” said Toni.

_Ha! Another thing Mom didn’t know!_ Thought Donna gleefully.

“Judi’s one of my mum’s oldest and dearest friends,” explained Benedict. “She’s known me since I was born. I used to play with her daughter, Finty. A lot of my parents’ closest friends are fellow thespians. I grew up around many famous people such as Jeremy Brett, Julian Fellowes, Delena Kidd, Gary Raymond, Ian McKellan, Ben Kingsley, Maggie Smith, John Hurt, Derrick Jacobi and Geoffrey Palmer to name a few but I don’t think of them like that. They were just my parents’ friends.”

_Cumberbatch does love to drop names_ , thought Neil.

“Wanda’s also very close friends with Diana Rigg,” added Donna.

_And my daughter suddenly likes to name drop as well._

“That’s a very impressive roster of friends,” mused Neil. “And now that I’ve had my say, Ben, I believe it’s time for you to have yours. You have the floor.”

_Fuckity, fuck, fuck! What am I going to say? I think we’ve said everything there is to say at this point. I’ve nothing to add that won’t start another ruckus…do I want to do that? Donna looks emotionally spent. This dinner has taken a toll on her as well as me._

Benedict sighed deeply. “I really don’t have anything productive to say. I think we all have a clear understand as to what our specific agendas are. What I’d really fancy is to eat my pudding and have some quiet conversation rather than continue this…verbal sparring.” He offered a half-smile to Neil and Toni. “I’m hereby calling a formal truce.”

_Dad’s taken the wind out of Benedict’s sails. He looks like he’s going to crumple from the mental stress. I feel like I’m going to crumple once we get out of here._

Neil smiled to himself.  _Cumberbatch is actually going to give my ears a rest!  Excellent!_

Neither Neil nor Toni said anything for a good minute or two. Then Toni winked at Donna and smiled at Benedict.

“You know, Benedict, I find the whole process of acting and character development very interesting. Things like how you prepare for a role and what motivates you once you’re actually performing. Could I persuade you to tell us more about your acting hopes and dreams? I know I’d be very interested in hearing more about that.”

Neil’s head jerked up from his plate. _Oh, for God’s f’ing sake, Toni! Just when my ears were about to get some rest. Let’s not and say we did_.

Benedict immediately perked up. “I’ve always dreamed of playing Hamlet,” he said with a dreamy look on his face.

_Oh, ho!  So, Cumberbatch, along with every other actor on the planet, wants to play Hamlet.  I can have some fun with this._

Neil snickered. “Show me an actor who doesn’t.”

“I was about to say that Hamlet is every actor’s dream.”

“It’s a very taxing and demanding role, which takes a lot of preparation and stamina.”

“May I remind you that I trained at LAMDA for my Master’s. I cut my teeth on Shakespeare. I already have most of the soliloquies committed to memory.”

Donna eagerly chimed in. “Benedict really does, Dad! He’s told me that he runs them through his mind to…”

_Jesus, fuck! She’s going to say that I imagine them to keep from climaxing too soon when we’re shagging! Is nothing sacred between us? I never should have told her that! I need a new mouth filter._

Donna stopped abruptly when Benedict glared daggers at her and kicked her foot under the table.

_Oh, oh. I almost slipped and said he mentally practices those speeches to delay his orgasms when he’s getting too excited. I need to get my own mouth filter adjusted._

“…keep in practice,” she finished with a smile. “Right, Honey?”

Benedict continued to glare at her. “Yes, _Sweetheart_.”

“That’s very admirable,” said Toni. “Such dedication to your craft, Benedict. I’m impressed.”

_I’m not. I know exactly when and where he’s doing all that practicing,_ thought Neil. _In bed. Distracting yourself to keep from coming with mental exercises is an old trick. I prefer running baseball stats._

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck. “As a matter of fact, I was offered the role of Hamlet whilst I was at Harrow. I was fifteen at the time, and I turned it down to the surprise of everyone. Instead I decided it was for the best to concentrate on my A-levels, which seemed more important at the time.”

“A wise decision,” agreed Toni. “College entrance exams are far more important than a school play.”

“Hamlet is in my blood, and it is something I will do sooner or later. As I said, it is my dream, and one day I will realize that dream. I will proudly take my place alongside all the other actors who have played him over the years.”

“But only a truly _gifted_ one can play the part successfully. Sir Laurence Olivier, you’re not.”

“I most certainly _could_ do it, and I _will_ do it every bit as well – if not _better_.”

“Aren’t you a cocky one? That’s your problem: you’re too cocky for your own good, Cumberbatch.”

“Cocky? I’m not the cock at this table,” sneered Benedict.

“Benedict!” exclaimed Donna. “That’s enough! Please stop baiting him, Daddy! You have no idea whether he could or couldn’t take on that role.”

It was Benedict’s turn to look surprised at Donna’s words.

_I can, and I will. I will show you all one day,_ thought Benedict. _I yearn to play the Danish Prince more than anything. What I do need to do is to stop taking the bastard’s bait._

_Such a fine display of arrogance, Cumberbatch,_ thought Neil _. You probably will play Hamlet one day and be able to pull it off with that attitude. Donna’s visibly upset with our bickering, which is not my intent. I just want her to see that the love of her life isn’t all sweetness and light. He’s got a nasty, arrogant streak that I don’t care for. The man is a contradiction: humble and full of self-deprecating humor one minute, then out comes that self-assurance and arrogance. I can see that Toni doesn’t like the affect this evening is having on Donna either. I don’t like seeing Donna take his side. Am I being a bit too hard on him because I’m not happy that my daughter chose another actor to fall in love with? Good actors need a certain amount of arrogance and self-confidence, but they have to temper it with modesty and some vulnerability as well in order to stay grounded._

“Sorry,” the two men mumbled half-apologetically to Donna.

_Those had to be two of the most insincere 'sorrys' I've ever heard,_ thought Donna.

_Who are they trying to fool? Neither of them is sorry,_ thought Toni.  _Those were I'm-only-saying-this-because-your-forcing-me-to sorrys._

They divided the desserts and ate them in silence. The only sounds were that of the cutlery and sipping of their hot beverages. Donna noticed that Benedict was poking at his pie with a slight scowl on his face. Her mother’s eyes were continuing to dart around the table as if trying to access the situation. Suddenly, Neil put down his fork as he regarded the younger man, who appeared to be silently fuming.

“Not every actor is born to play Hamlet, Ben.  However, I suppose with a lot of hard work and some more seasoning you _might_ be able to tackle the role one day.”

Benedict leaned across the table and pointed his fork at Neil in order to punctuate his words. His face was a mask of fury.

“I _will_ do it one day.”

“I’m sure you will; and you can count on my being there that day to review you in it, Cumberbatch.”

“And I’ll be ready for you. I will give you a performance to remember. You will be hard pressed to find me lacking in any area – diction, projection, emotion. I will be _perfect_! I will make you eat your sodding words, you right bastard!”

"Daddy! Please stop pushing the envelope towards him! And Benedict, please stop taking it!" Donna hissed to no avail. 

Neil gasped in feigned horror. “My word, you do have quite a nasty temper!”

“I do when I’m provoked, and you’ve done a brilliant job of that all night. Well done you.”

“Neil, let’s just finish our dessert, _please_ ,” said Toni gently, tugging on his sleeve. “The dining room doesn’t need to hear this.”

“No one is stopping you from eating your dessert, _Dear_ ,” retorted Neil impatiently. “Cumberbatch and I were just having a spirited discussion.”

_Holy shit! Dad basically told Mom to mind her own business. That’s a rarity! Neither Carly nor Kenny will believe this!_

“As you were, Neil,” said Benedict.

“First, you insinuate I’m a cock...”

“Pardon me. I didn’t mean to insinuate that, you son of bitch. You _are_ a cock.”

“And now you just called me a son of a bitch. Is that what they taught you at Harrow? Such fine manners you don’t have. Didn’t your parents teach you to respect your elders?”

“They taught me to respect my elders when they’ve earned my respect. You, sir, have not.”

“Benedict! Daddy! Please stop!”

“We were just having an exciting exchange of opinions, Donna," clarified Neil.

"Exciting exchange, my sweet ass," snapped Toni. "I think we've all had enough of this never-ending bickering between you two."

"It’s over as far as I’m concerned,”  Said Neil with a wave of his hand.  He picked up his cappuccino and took a sip.

“With all due respect, _ladies,_ please mind your business and stay out of this conversation,” snapped Benedict angrily, pushing aside his barely touched dessert plate.

Donna started to open her mouth, but Benedict addressed her before anything came out.  “Don’t you have these puddings to review? Now, Neil, as I was saying…”

Neil smacked his forehead. “Shit. It seems you’re _always_ saying something!”

“Did you not invite me to have my say or did I just imagine that?”

“I did, which was my mistake. I didn’t think you were going to take the remainder of the evening to do it in.”

“So sorry you disapprove of the way I choose to convey my thoughts.”

“Normally, I wouldn’t - if they were worth hearing. You want to do Hamlet. Bully for you! In my opinion, I don’t think you’re ready to take that on yet.” Neil paused to glance at his watch. “It took me less than a minute to say that.”

“Well, I fancy elaborating a bit more; so elaborate, I shall, whether you bloody well like it or not. Now, as I was saying…”

Toni rolled her eyes at Donna and shrugged. She signaled to the server that they needed refills on their drinks.

_Okay. Daddy’s not backing off and Benedict just used the snotty version of Sweetheart. That was a short-lived truce. Here we go again_ , thought Donna Saint James as she pulled Benedict’s plate closer to her. _I’m not going to let these yummy confections go to waste. As Benedict pointed out, I do have to review these desserts, and review I shall._

 

 

 

Donna Saint James came out of Benedict’s bathroom after performing her bedtime routine and stood in front of his partially closed bedroom door wearing a flirty, ruffled white chemise. She dramatically threw open the door and struck what she considered to be a sexy pose in the doorway.

“Can I interest you in a little friendly, mutual groping, Handsome?”

To her disappointment the room was empty.

_I guess not. He must still be up on the roof terrace getting some fresh air. I can’t say that I blame him after tonight. I guess its best to leave him alone for a little while longer. Hmmmm… now would be a good time to call Carly and see what the Neil and Toni show had to report about tonight. Though I’m not entirely sure I want to know._

Donna took her cellphone off the dresser where Benedict had plugged it in to charge and made herself comfortable on what was now her side of his bed. She dialed Carly’s number. Her sister answered after two rings.

_**“So, what in the hell happened?”**_ came Carly’s anxious voice.

“Didn’t they tell you?” asked Donna. “I was afraid they may have still been with you, so I waited as long as I could to call.”

_**“I’m happy to report that they are not here. As a matter of fact, they never even suggested coming in here.”** _

“Whoa hoa. Let’s back up and start from the beginning. What did Mom and Dad have to say about tonight?”

_**“Not much, which is why I was asking you what went on.”** _

“I don’t understand. I thought they would have come barging in as soon as they got back to give you the ugly play-by-play.”

_**“Well, you thought wrong.”** _

“Carla, are you playing with me? Please be serious and tell me what they said! I’m dying from curiosity here!”

_**“I’m not playing, Donna. Pinky swear. After dinner, Grandpa insisted Steve and I accompany him to that pub for a pint. I never realized that Grandpa can easily drink both Steve and I under the table. I stopped at one pint, but Steve had two, and I’m really thankful that we met up with Andrew and Stephen, so they could help us get Steve home and to bed.”** _

“You met up with Andrew and Stephen?”

_**“Yeah. Grandpa invited them to meet us. We had the best time drinking and listening to Grandpa’s stories. He even had the whole place singing his favorite drinking songs from his youth. You know, Andrew has a nice voice. He and Steve did a duet at one point.  Steve said it reminded him of our days at Disney when we'd all go out to the Blue Martini and wind up singing.”** _

“Jesus. I’m glad you guys had such a good time. I wish I could have been anywhere but where I was.”

_**“We had the best time ever, and you and Ben were sorely missed - if that makes you feel any better."** _

"It doesn't, but thank you."

_**"By the way, dinner was spectacular; and Jamie sends his love and a gentle reminder that you promised to go back and review Comfort again.”** _

“Ha! He’s left me a voicemail asking when I would be doing the re-review – like I would tell him. I need to catch him off guard. The whole point is to do a review when the kitchen isn’t expecting me. This tells me that he’s in a state of high alert still. I think I’ll give him another month before I show up.”

_**“That’s cruel.”** _

“No. That’s fair. I need to give him another unbiased review, and I can’t do that properly if he’s expecting me to show up. Jamie should know better.”

_**“Mom and Dad got in at the same time that we were getting in from the pub. They did not look happy, so I didn’t ask them any questions in front of Andrew and Stephen. Once Steve was settled, I went upstairs to get the low**_ _**down. Mom opened the door and I found Dad reclining on the couch with a glass of Scotch and a cold washcloth on his forehead. There was also a bottle of Tylenol and an empty glass.”**_

“That doesn’t sound good. Dad never drinks before bed. I do recall him asking me for some Tylenol when Benedict was paying the bill.”

_**“Well, apparently, they both made an exception tonight. Mom was also partaking of a – what does Ben call it? When you have a little something before going to bed…”** _

“A tipple.”

_**“Yeah. It looked like Mom had a tipple of scotch and soda on the coffee table.”** _

“What did they say exactly?”

_**“Not much. Mom immediately asked me how our evening was and Daddy just raised his hand and said – and I quote: Would you mind coming back tomorrow morning, Sweet Potato? My ears literally ache from listening to Cumberbatch prattle on for the past three and a half hours, and I don’t want to hear any more talking. I just want silence.”** _

Donna sat in stunned silence.   _Oh, that’s not good. He thinks Benedict talks too much. That’s why Dad asked for the Tylenol. Benedict gave him a headache. To be fair, Dad gave Benedict one as well. I saw him go straight for the Panadol as soon as we got in the door._

_**“So, I did a quick about face and started to leave. Mom followed me to the door and quietly told me that Daddy had said the same thing to her in the cab. He had never been in the company of anyone who talked so damn much and just wanted silence.”** _

“Benedict does love to talk, but it never bothers me. I’ve always loved the sound of his voice when he speaks. It’s so rich and deep and incredibly sexy-sounding. Sometimes I catch myself staring at those luscious lips of his when he’s speaking.”

_**“Well, our parents didn’t find him as spellbinding as you do,”** _ _snickered Carly._ **_“You’re in love with him, so it’s only natural that you hang onto every word still. Things may change the longer you’re with him.”_ **

“I’ll always relish the sound of Benedict’s voice! What did Mom have to say of interest, if anything?”

_**“Mom said the dinner was very tense in spots, but perfectly fine in others. Ben had surprised them both with his display of backbone. They liked that. She feels they came to an understanding of sorts.”** _

“Yeah. They found themselves up against someone who didn’t back down and had done his own homework. Benedict had the balls to actually bring up Uncle Angelo and the line of work he’s really in.”

_**“I’m speechless. No one ever talks about that. That’s forbidden territory!”** _

“Well, Benedict did; and he didn’t care either. He surprised me with the stuff he knew about our family. He kept dropping little tidbits all night long. His lawyer, Dennis, must have dug up the information for him. I was so proud of him, Carly! I wish you could have been there even though there were quite a few rough spots.”

_**“I’m not sure what to make of it, Donna. It sounds like they have each other’s numbers and have decided to call a stalemate. I’m sure they’ll tell me more in the morning once they’ve had a chance to rest and discuss it among themselves. It was apparent that they had not discussed it at all. I can just hear Dad’s rant.”** _

“Me, too. The Neil and Toni Show was out in full force tonight. They gave it their all and then some. They fully expected Benedict would buckle under like the others.”

_**“To be honest, it was what I expected to hear you say. Somehow, they never disappoint, do they?”** _

“No. They don’t, but they didn’t manage to beat down Benedict’s ego this time. He stood firm and gave back whatever they threw at him.”

_**“I’m very glad to hear that, Donna. I know Steve will, too. He was worried that they were going to chew him up and spit him out.”** _

“I don’t mean to cut you short, Curly Carly; but I’m drained. Benedict is up on the roof terrace, chilling out for a bit, so I don’t have unlimited time to chat. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

_**“Okay. Good night, Donna!”** _

 

 *******************************************************

 

Benedict Cumberbatch stood on his roof terrace, gazing out at the London skyline, which was lit up against the night sky. He had decided to ring his parents’ flat with the intent of filling them in on the evening’s events. Timothy answered on the first ring.

_**“Hello,”**_ came his rich voice.

“It’s me, Dad. I hope it’s not too late, but both your mobiles were both turned off.”

_**“No. Not too late for me. I’ve been waiting for you to call. Your mother, on the other hand, is fast asleep. No doubt dreaming of her big fan meet and greet tomorrow with Donna’s Grandfather,”**_   he chuckled.

“Or of ripping Neil Saint James a new arse hole, which is probably the more likely of the two scenarios,” quipped Benedict.

_**“That might be more like it. She did spend quite a bit of time sharpening, I mean filing, her nails before she retired for the night; so she may have plans to go for his jugular.”** _

“Christ. I really hope you’re joking, Dad”

_**“Sorry. It was a piss poor attempt at sarcasm. That was quite a long dinner. How did it go?”** _

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck. “It was the weirdest meet-the-parents dinner I’ve ever been to. I’m utterly knackered – both mentally and physically. I really need to talk, but I don’t know how much of this shit I care to relive right now.”

_**“Understood. How about you leave out all the gory details and cut to the quick then. Were they hostile to you?”** _

“Erm…I wouldn’t say hostile exactly. Well, not at first anyway. Things started out on the right foot then went straight to shit.”

_**“That tells me a lot.”** _

“You’re being a bit cheeky, Dad. It was like being sat on the beach and these great waves of snark would roll in and engulf me.”

**_“That was descriptive as hell. How about being a bit more forthcoming with the actual details then? As you pointed out, it is late; and I don’t fancy playing twenty questions. I have to be up early in order to give your mother her last minute briefing before the Clash of the Titans.”_ **

“Oh, God. Please don’t refer to it as that! I’m getting that sick feeling in the pit of my stomach whenever I think about tomorrow. That last think I fancy is to go through that again!”

_**“Take a deep breath, and it’ll pass. Tomorrow is inevitable, but somehow we’ll manage to get through it. Now, as you were then.”** _

“At first, they were utterly civil to me; and then they started to say things to me.”

**_“Well, that’s much better. I’m really getting a feel for what happened.”_ **

“I sense you’re getting stropy, Dad.”

**_“I’m not getting stropy, Ben. I am stropy. You know how I hate it when people are vague. You’re talking utter poppycock right now. So far, what I’m getting out of this is that at first, they were nice to you, then not nice. I know you can be far more descriptive than this!”_ **

“Alright then, I’ll try and give you a flavour for what happened.”

_**“Chocolate for me, please.”** _

“What?”

_**“Just kidding. You said you were going to give me a flavour, so I requested chocolate. Get it?”** _

“Erm…yeah. Hahaha! Anyway, I’ve just spent the past half hour sat in a cab, trying to make sense of all this. My head is just swimming. The mother apparently has a team of investigators working for her. She had them run a motherfucking credit report on me, along with my financials. The cow knows all my personal business from how much I have saved in the bank to what I paid for my flat last year! She’s gotten access to my school records, my work history – you would think I was interviewing for bloody Prime Minister rather than just dating her daughter. It’s fucking terrifying to sit there and listen to someone spew out your most private and personal information.”

_**“I do not like what I’m hearing so far. What about the father?”** _

“The knob took every chance he could to be snarky and take pot shots at me. Some of his insults really cut to the quick. As far as he was concerned, I’m a good for nothing actor who isn’t worthy of his precious daughter. They both seem convinced that I’m going to ride Donna’s coat tails and sponge off of her. Nothing could be farther from the truth, Dad! I’m perfectly capable of making my own way, and I can support Donna if need be.”

_**“What was Donna’s reaction to all this? And just for the record, I think I’ve already used up five of my twenty questions.”** _

“Ermmm…well…Donna tries to take it in her stride. She has had other boyfriends and has been through this with them a few times before, so it’s nothing new to her. She knew what was in store for me and did her best to prepare me. However, I could see she was getting really upset by the end of the night.  They were worse in person than I even dreamt. One minute they’re perfectly nice as pie. The next they’re on the attack or tossing barbs at me. It was this weird see-saw of subtlety, followed by in your face!”

_**“Hmmm…I would have thought Donna the type to tell them to piss off. Your mother would have without reservation. I remember when she told your Gran Pauline to piss off one time.”** _

“Did she now?” Benedict asked with amusement. “Where was I?”

**_“We had just brought you home from hospital, and your Gran was making quite a few uncalled for remarks about the fact that we got married after conceiving you.”_ **

 “I’ll never understand why she just couldn’t let things be. I mean everything did work out in the end just fine.”

_**“My mother was very old-fashioned, bless her; and as far as she was concerned, we did things in the wrong order.”** _

“Well, now that you mention it, you did!” laughed Benedict.  "That's not how I would have gone about it."

_**“Now who’s showing some cheek? You’re an old soul just like her, Ben, bless. You’re lucky you’re here, my son. It wasn’t easy for your mother to become pregnant. Bottom line is it was none of Gran’s business; and your mother told her so in no uncertain terms”** _

“Not to be cheeky, but wasn’t it _your_ place to stand up to Gran?”

**_“Absolutely, but it’s very hard to tell off one’s parent - even when they're wrong."_ **

"Hmmm...I never have a problem with telling Mum off when the situation warrants it," chuckled Benedict.

**_"As our neighbors can attest to, I'm sure. Bully for you that you have more spine than I did at your age."_ **

"Sorry for being snarky, Dad.  I didn't mean to offend.  Please finish what you were saying."

**_"I could never quite gather the courage to set my mother straight. Your Gran was the matriarch of the family, and a very…difficult woman to deal with at times…especially, when she was on her self-righteous soapbox. Sometimes it was just easier to let your mother do the talking for both of us, sad to say. Donna needs to stand up to her parents and not follow my example.”_ **

“To be fair she did try and curtail the worst of the insults; but the parents are tough as nails. I could tell Donna was utterly mortified. I think she just gave up after a while – like what you were saying. She must fell that it’s not worth having a row with them. There is also only so much one can do in public without creating a major scene. We did have a couple of minor ones; but they aren’t worth mentioning in detail. You needed to be there to witness it and truly appreciate what I’m saying, Dad.”

**_“No, I didn’t need to be there. It’s bad enough I have to suffer through the afternoon with them tomorrow. Is that all then?”_ **

“Nope. I saved the weirdest part for last.”

**_“There’s more? That brings me to six questions.”_ **

“Yeah. At one point, the father actually complimented me on my acting and said if I continued on the path I had chosen, I could succeed. Can you believe that, Dad? Neil motherfucking Saint James actually said something positive to my face!”

There was silence.

“Dad? Did you hear me?”

**_“I don’t want to use up all my questions, so I’m waiting for you to finish.”_ **

“I’m serious, Dad. He and Donna’s mum downloaded some of my performances and actually watched them prior to their trip.   I know we’ve been taking the piss when it comes to him, but to receive _any_ sort of positive feedback from the likes of him …well, that’s a major coup. And even though I hate like hell to admit this, his words of encouragement and praise mean something to me. It means quite a bit actually.”

There was silence.

“Dad?”

**_“I was nodding my head in agreement. You couldn’t see me is all.”_ **

“What do you think?”

**_“I think he was telling the truth. Neil Saint James is not the sort of bloke to sugar coat anything. He says what he feels, regardless of what anyone thinks. I think you should be damn proud to have gotten such positive input from him.”_ **

“I am. It’s just that he completely caught me off guard with that.”

_**“Was that all? I’m coming up on my seventh question.”** _

“Bloody hell, Dad! Please stop with keeping track of the questions!”

_**“Is there anything more I need to know before I ring off, Ben?”** _

“Neil basically said that he knows about Mum still…erm…well you know…holding a bit of a grudge.”

**_“I would call it many things, Benedict, but not a ‘bit’ of a grudge. This is a full-fledged grudge.”_ **

“You may want to prepare Mum that the wanker has no intention of apologizing for those reviews. He stands by them. The interesting thing – and I had to pinch myself to make sure I was hearing him correctly – is that he emphasized that he wants us all to get along and let bygones be bygones being we most likely will be family one day.”

Timothy laughed uproariously. _**“Well, isn’t it just? Neil Saint James doesn’t have to live with your mother. He doesn’t know how she took his comments to heart or how his words plunged you into a deep depression that lasted a couple of months. He can come over here tomorrow with all of the best intentions in the world, but your mother will not be buying into it.”**_

“Fuck. Can’t you do something to control her? I thought you’ve been talking to you, and she was starting to come around!”

Timothy laughed bitterly. _**“First of all, no one can control the Wanda Express once it’s left the station; and trust me, it already has. She’s just idling on the side lines waiting for her chance to dress him down. I’ve given this a great deal of thought, Ben; and I won’t lie to you. It still pains me to read those reviews and his blog. It bothers me that they gave you a hard time tonight, and I couldn’t be there to defend you myself. However, you’re a grown man and these people are going to be related to you through marriage one day. You need to learn how to deal with them on your terms.”**_

“I sure as shit don’t want to be at constant war with them. I want - I _need_ to peacefully co-exist with them.”

_**“Then you have to be the one to set the boundaries if Donna won’t or can’t. It’s never easy to be the child in these instances. I speak from personal experience when trying to find a happy medium with your mother and Gran.”** _

“Are you going to say anything to them?”

_**“No. I want to, but no. I’ve already made up my mind to keep my mouth shut on the matter as it’s in the past. I’m willing to let it go for yours and Donna’s sakes. Her father is right about that, and I do appreciate that he wants to move forward. However, your mother will have her say regardless of what you or I may want. She swears up and down to me that she’ll be the lady tomorrow; but I’ve been with her for forty years now and know damn well that she will have a right go at him. She won’t be able to help herself. I’ll try and do whatever I can to prevent an all-out row; but these things can escalate quite rapidly as you well know.”** _

“Fuck.”

**_“You know Ben, have you considered that maybe it isn’t such a bad idea to let them clear the air. Then once that’s done, we can move on.”_ **

“No. I can’t say that I’ve considered that for one moment.”

_**“Perhaps you should.”** _

“So, you’re telling me that you just intend to stand there and let her lace into him.”

**_“Yes. That was the plan.”_ **

There was silence.

_**“Ben?”** _

“Fuck.”

_**“You already said that twice now. Was there anything else you wanted to add to this conversation or shall I ring off?”** _

“No. That was about it. They tried to beat me down and insult me _ **,**_ but I didn’t let them. They want to make nice with you and Mum tomorrow. Yeah, that’s it in a nutshell.”

**_“Alright then. I’m going to bed and suggest you do the same. We’re going to need all our wits about us tomorrow once the Wanda Express gets on track. Cheers, Ben.”_ **

“Erm…Dad…before you ring off…I meant to tell you that Judi and David were sat in the same dining room as us tonight.”

There was silence.

“Dad?”

There was more silence.

**_“Wasn’t that a coincidence? We were so surprised when Judy texted your mother that she was there. Did you have an opportunity to speak?”_ **

“Yeah. We did. Judi came over specifically to say hello and to meet Donna and her family. Don’t you find that just a bit peculiar?”

**_“Why would I?   Judi has known you since you were born. I know for a fact that your mother has told her all about your romance, so I don’t find that peculiar at all that she should want to meet Donna and her parents – especially the notorious Neil Saint James. I’m willing to bet she came over specifically with checking him out in mind.”_ **

“Erm…Dad…Judi admitted that she and David had been emailing Mum photos of their meal.”

**_“Judi and your mother do love doing that, bless them. Judi took some cracking photos tonight. The food looked delicious, especially her pudding.”_ **

“She said David took that photo.”

**_“No. You must have misunderstood. Judy’s the accomplished photographer in that relationship,”_** chuckled Timothy **_“David’s all thumbs when it comes to mobile cameras. All the photos were taken with and sent from her mobile.”_**

“I think Judi knew prior to going to the Ivy Club that we were going to be there.”

**_“Well, you think wrong. She and David already had a booking. You just don’t walk into the Ivy Club expecting to be sat – famous or not.”_ **

“Surely Judi would have mentioned their dinner plans to Mum, and Mum would have in turn have told Judi that we were going to be there.”

**_“You’re leading the witness, Barrister Ben. I don’t appreciate that. They don’t talk every day. Now, I believe the judge has called a recess; so I’d appreciate it if you’d dispense with the cross examination and say whatever it is you bloody want to say and be done with it.”_ **

“Sorry, Dad; but I think Mum told Judi that we were going to be there, and she made the booking with the intent to spy for Mum. It was a set up.”

Timothy laughed uproariously.   ** _“Oh, for fucks sake, Benedict! You’ve been watching too many spy films. You make it sound as if this were a carefully planned covert operation. Judi and David were out to dinner, saw you with Donna’s family and texted your mother is what happened. I’m sure it was Judi’s idea to come over to pay her respects – not that I would put it past your mother to suggest she do that.”_**

“You don’t think there was any curiosity involved on Judi’s part then?”

**_“Oh, I didn’t say that. She’s every bit as nosy as your mother, so I definitely think she came to your table to check things out so she could report back, as well as see what Neil Saint James was like in person. How did the parents treat Judi?”_ **

“Umm…there was a bit of tense verbal sparring, but no full-fledged row or anything awful. He did tell her she had the tendency to overact at times.”

**_“Christ. He has bollocks to tell her that.”_ **

“Neil Saint James has enough bollocks for all the men in London. I’ve never witnessed anything quite like it.”

**_“I think I might bow out and go to the Garick Club tomorrow.  You could make my excuses for me.”_ **

“No, you won’t. I need you there tomorrow, Dad! By the way, Judi didn’t suffer his cheekiness. She gave him snark right back; and then she actually admitted that she rather liked him. I’ll go as far as saying I detected some mutual respect between them – or so it seemed to me from the conversation. Judi also bonded with Donna’s mother, who can be quite charming when she chooses to be. All in all, it was an utterly bizarre evening of contradictions – all delivered at break neck speed. I’m mentally drained.”

**_“Things could have gone a lot worse.”_ **

“Things can always be worse, as you’re so fond of reminding me. I’m going to ring off now. I’ve kept you up long enough, and Donna must be wondering what became of me. Thanks for listening, Dad. I love you.”

**_“That’s my job as a father, to listen to his son when he’s hurting. I do think things will manage to work themselves out in the end, they always do, Ben. I love you, too. Cheers.”_ **

Benedict put his mobile into the pocket of his dressing gown and sighed in frustration.  Then he punched the railing with his fist.

_Dad just confirmed that Judi was feeding me bullshit about David taking the photo of her pudding and sending it to Mum. Thank you, Dad. I suppose it’s possible that it was a coincidence that Judi and David were at the Ivy Club tonight, and Judi took it upon herself to spy for Mum. I bet if I had access to Judi’s mobile, there would be a lot of photos in addition to several texts about what was going on at my table that she didn’t want me to see. Bloody fucking hell! I just hate it when I can't get to the bottom of something - I know in my heart that I’m not wrong!_

 

 

 

_ _

 

 

_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. My apologies for any inconsistencies, as I get tripped up in my own plot. It's gets harder and more convoluted as we make our way towards the big reveal. 
> 
> 2\. All the Hamlet references in this story were not inspired by the fact that Benedict is actually performing it in real life. He's wanted to do it for a long while, and I decided it would be his dream role when the story was first conceived. This is just a happy coincidence.


	104. Chapter 104

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of dinner at the Ivy club brings tension back to Hampstead as Benedict and Donna regroup. Benedict reports to Adam, while Donna checks in with Carly. Benedict explodes while discussing the events of the evening. 
> 
> Note: I’ll be using ************* to indicate things happening at the same time.

 

Once Judi Dench had taken her leave, Toni had begun to ask Benedict about his work, which had at first seemed a safe subject. His sullenness had melted away as he had warmed to the topic. Donna enjoyed hearing Benedict confide in Toni that his fondest dream was to do Hamlet one day. Unfortunately, it also seemed to be the cue for Neil to once again launch snide remarks at Benedict about performing Hamlet.

Finally, things had settled down, and Toni had skillfully led Benedict back to discussing his approach to acting, which had amounted to a lengthy monologue. Donna had been worried when she noticed her father’s eyes had glazed over, and he began to check his watch regularly. He had then taken the reins and deftly switched the topic to politics, which he enjoyed discussing almost as much as he did movies, plays and TV shows. Donna was amazed that her father and Benedict shared similar ideas and opinions as to the political climates in both the US and UK. She had been so happy and relieved that they had found something they could all discuss without it turning into an argument.

However, fate has other ideas; and the peace didn’t last for long. What had ruined the lively exchange of ideas was when Neil had referred to Benedict as ‘posh’, which immediately set him off. Another monologue - this time on what it meant to be ‘posh’ and how he wasn’t ‘posh’ - ensued to Donna’s horror. Her father had simply scoffed at Benedict’s words and laughed it off, which only served to infuriate Benedict all the more. All attempts by Donna and her mother to act as referees were ignored or rebuffed, as the argument between the two men became more heated. Finally, Toni had stepped in and declared that it was getting late and that she wanted to leave. Donna immediately agreed, which gave Benedict the perfect excuse to call for the check.

Once downstairs, after a virtually silent elevator ride, the doorman had hailed separate cabs for the two couples. Donna and Benedict said good night to her parents with an agreement to meet up at the Kensington High Street Tube Station the next day at eleven thirty. When they got into the cab, Donna had moved to sit beside Benedict. However, she was surprised when Benedict had sat as far away from her in the cab as possible, leaning against the door and staring out the window. Normally, they would sit beside each other; so Benedict could put his arm around Donna or she would rest her head on his shoulder. Sometimes they would just hold hands.

Donna had regarded her boyfriend in puzzlement and took his hand in hers. Benedict had not pulled away, which she considered a good sign; but Donna soon recognized all the signs that indicated he was not in a good mood. Usually, Benedict would squeeze her hand or rub his thumb over the back of it; but tonight his large, warm hand just sat limply in hers for the duration of the ride. Donna had made three failed attempts at trying to make light conversation, but only received one word answers or an occasional grunt.

Finally, Benedict snapped at her that he wasn’t up to chatting; so they made the remainder of the trip to Hampstead in silence. The cabby had been surprised by his nasty outburst and had made sympathetic eyes at Donna through the rear view mirror. Donna had shrugged in return and looked out at the passing scenery with a lump in her throat.   She knew damn well that he was very upset over what had transpired over the course of the evening.

 

**********************************************************

 

Donna Saint James gingerly pushed open the squeaky door leading to Benedict’s small roof terrace and stepped outside onto the wooden flooring. She was immediately engulfed by a blast of chilly night air, which caused her to shiver in the flimsy white chemise and matching robe.   Donna hugged herself tightly as she allowed her eyes to adjust to the darkness. The only source of light spilled out from the loft behind her. Neither the large light fixture by the door nor the string of tiny white lights that were wound around the safety railing had been turned on. Donna momentarily considered flipping the switch; but decided against it. Benedict obviously preferred the area to remain shrouded in darkness. A dark cloud passed overhead, and she could see Benedict illuminated in the moonlight.

 

************************************************************

 

Benedict’s gaze had shifted from the Gherkin to the newest addition to the London skyline – the Shard. The triangular-shaped building’s construction was progressing nicely, and Benedict was fascinated with it.

_I can’t wait for it to open, so I can go up to the observation deck. That will be one cracking view. They are planning several restaurants, so I’m sure Donna and I will be trying them all…provided we’re still together after this weekend is over.  
_

Benedict’s text chime had gone off and he reluctantly pulled his mobile out of the pocket of his midnight blue velour dressing gown. It was Adam.

#  **You left me hanging here, Mate. A** **  
**

**It wasn’t my intention. I’m suffering from sensory overload and needed to be alone for a while. B  
**

**You sent me a text around ten that said: Help me! Those two words do not indicate that all is going along swimmingly. I feared the worst had happened: that you had decked the father, and I needed to come bail you out of jail. A  
**

**I was in the bogs taking a wee. B  
**

#  **I hope you washed your hands before texting me. A** **  
**

**Sod off, Wanker. Would ‘having a blast’ have been better? B  
**

#  **I would have sensed you were being less than truthful. A** **  
**

**You would have been right. I was about to elaborate, but the father decided to join me at the urinals. B  
**

**Having a wee with the future father-in-law? Now that’s what I call a bonding moment at its best. Well done you. A  
**

**You’re in rare form tonight. B  
**

#  **I’m sleep deprived. I’ve been waiting up for you. A** **  
**

**Stop fucking with me. Something or someone other than me is responsible for keeping you up. Did Alice fancy a shag? B**

**I’m not fucking with you, though I wouldn’t mind if Alice wanted to fuck me. It had nothing to do with her or your godson. A**

**Somehow I didn’t think I was the cause of your insomnia, though I was touched by the thought that you were that concerned about my well-being. B** _  
_

**No. You’re not the cause. The bloody puppy keeps whining. She wants to sleep with me and Ally. I had to bring her downstairs and put her in her basket thrice now. A  
**

**Do people actually use ‘thrice’ anymore? B  
**

#  **I do. A**

**I’m quite impressed then. No shit. I am chuffed as fuck that you actually use that word. B**

**You can thank yourself for that. You inspire me to use words that no one else will know. I love seeing the puzzled expressions on their faces because they haven’t a clue as to what I’m talking about. A  
**

**That was a bit snarky. B  
**

**No. It was a lot snarky. Nonetheless I will make a mental note to use ‘thrice’ around you as much as possible. A  
**

**You know I honestly can’t say I’ve ever taken a wee with Alice’s dad.   A**

**It was more like he had been sent to check up on me, rather than a bonding ritual. I needed a time out because I was sorely tempted to punch the fucker, so I retreated to the bogs to calm myself. B**

**That was smart. The Ivy Club would have revoked your membership, which would have saddened me greatly because I haven’t been there yet. I have a sudden urge to see the mens toilets. A**

**We’ll go one night – the four of us. Provided Donna and I are still together. B  
**

**You’ll be together. In spite of everything, I really do believe Donna loves the fuck out of you. A  
**

**You know, the more I think about it, I doubt her dad actually had to wee. His stream was sorely lacking. I suspect he emptied his bladder earlier. B**

#  **For fucks sake! You had the bollocks to actually watch him? A**

**Of course not! I was washing my hands and could hear him behind me. B  
**

#  **Thank God. I was beginning to worry about you, you bastard. A** _  
_

**You’ve been suddenly swearing an awful lot. Have you temporarily left the swear-free zone? B  
**

**Bugger off and let me fucking enjoy myself. There is no one up to hear me, and the puppy certainly isn’t going to rat on me. LOL!   How about coming forth with the juicy details. A  
**

**It was a perfectly horrible evening, and they are horrible people. I felt as if I were in this weird Twilight Zone. Over the course of the dinner I was interrogated, insulted and had my financial and personal history recited to me. B**

#  **Motherfuckers. You had a feeling it was going to be bad. A**

**I wasn’t prepared for just how bad they were! To be fair, Donna did warn me, as well as her brother-in-law.   I kept thinking that they had to be exaggerating. Nothing could have properly prepared me for the mental flogging I had to endure tonight! B**

#  **Mental flogging. That’s another one to add to my list of new phrases to use. Did you stand up to them? A**

**Yes! I refused to take their crap. I used the information that Dennis’ investigator dug up and lobbed it back at the mother. She’s the one who dug up all of my personal information. Do you know the bitch had the gall to actually run a credit report on me? B**

**Jesus. It was a brilliant idea to have Dennis dig up some dirt for you to shovel. What’s even better is that you actually had the opportunity and bollocks to use it. Jolly well done, Mate. A  
**

**I’m feeling quite chuffed with myself to be honest, and I’ll feel even better once the Panadol and the ulcer meds work their magic. B  
**

**Well then. It looks like I’m in luck. The puppy has passed out, so I’m off to bed. Good luck tomorrow, Ben.  Text or call me if you need to talk. A  
**

**Thanks. I’ll need all the good wishes I can get. B**

**Promise me you won’t cave in no matter what happens tomorrow. I want you to keep giving it back to those motherfuckers. A  
**

**I promise I won’t let them get the best of me. Cheers. B**

Benedict switched off his mobile for the night and tucked it back inside his dressing gown pocket. He resumed staring out at the skyline when he heard the door to the roof terrace slowly creak open. 

_Donna’s come up to collect me. I also need to oil those door hinges the next time I come here to have a proper putter._

There was silence. 

“Would you like some company or do you still need to be alone?” came Donna’s timid-sounding voice from behind him. 

_She’s going to want to sort this out. Question is: am I ready to without starting a row? My emotions are still rather raw, and I’ve got a lot of pent up anger still inside me. The last thing I want it is to take it out on her.  
_

Benedict ran his hands through his auburn curls and rubbed the back of his neck as he tried to make up his mind. 

_It’s not her fault that her parents turned out to be such first class dicks. I could use a hug from her right now. How pathetic am I that I need and crave physical reassurance that she still loves me?  
_

Benedict slowly turned around and felt his stomach lurch at the sight of her face in the moonlight. She looked sad and dejected at that moment as she sighed softly and turned to go back inside. His heart and body ached for her at that moment. _  
_

_She looks as miserable as I feel. I bet she could also use a hug. I’m not being pathetic at all. It’s perfectly normal to crave physical contact with your lover._

“As long as it’s your company, then yes.” 

 

*************************************************************

  

Donna spotted Benedict standing off to the left, leaning against the railing. His arms were resting on the railing with his large hands primly folded. She could see that he had changed into patterned sleep pants and a dark-colored dressing gown. He appeared to be gazing out at the London skyline, seemingly lost in thought. Benedict had not given any indication that he had heard her open the squeaky old door and venture out onto the roof terrace. 

“Would you like some company or do you still need to be alone?” she asked timidly. 

Benedict didn’t turn or acknowledge her at first. He remained with his back to her. The only movement Donna was able to detect was when he ran his hands through his hair and rubbed the back of his neck. 

_I guess that answers my question. He wants to be left alone. I guess I can’t blame him. I’ll go back downstairs and read my book. He’ll come down when he’s ready to talk._

As Donna turned to leave, she heard Benedict’s deep baritone carry across the darkness. 

“As long as it’s your company, then yes.” 

Donna moved across the short distance to join him at the railing. He straightened up and stifled a yawn. The breeze was always much stronger up there, and Donna shivered involuntarily. 

“Bloody hell! Come here quick as you can! You’re going to catch a chill in that!” Benedict said, opening his robe and holding out his arms to welcome her into a hug. 

She loved how he quickly took into his arms, pulling her against him as he bent down to give her a brief kiss. His lips and exposed skin felt cold from being outdoors for so long. Donna turned and leaned with her back against him as he wrapped them both in his heavy robe. His body heat immediately stopped her shivering. 

“Better?” 

“Much. Are you still mad at me?” 

“I was never mad at you to begin with, Donna. I could never, _ever_ , be cross with you for something that was out of your control.” 

_Oh, actually you could. You could be very cross with me if you knew about the Plan. Pissed off even. No, make that beyond pissed off. We’re talking pure, unadulterated anger here. Anger to the point of ‘I want to break up with you’ anger.  
_

The couple stood quietly, aware of each other’s beating hearts while listening to the night sounds surrounding them in the white moonlight. Neither of them wanted to break the silence. 

Donna stiffened at an unearthly howling that seemed to come from the one of the neighboring gardens. She craned her neck in an effort to see what it was. 

“Jesus! What in the hell is that? It sounds like someone’s being killed.” 

Benedict gave a deep, throaty chuckle from behind her. “The fucking foxes are at it again – literally.” 

“You mean to tell me there are real foxes…copulating in the yard next door?” 

“Yeah, they come over from the Heath in search of food. I guess they’ve decided to mate after a good meal, just as we do,” he snickered. “I’m surprised you haven’t heard them before when you’ve slept over. I always hear them through the open window.” 

“That’s because when I’m here, we sleep with the windows closed and the portable air conditioner on. I guess I’ll be hearing them now that the weather’s turned cool.” 

“I dread the winter months,” sighed Benedict. “I’ll miss sitting up here on a sunny day, just the two of us, drinking wine and eating snacks from the farmer’s market whilst the church bells ring and the doves fly overhead,” he added wistfully. “I love looking out over the Heath and London. Whenever I come up here, I feel as if I’ve entered this oasis of calm. It’s such a treat for me.” _  
_

“It’s so beautiful up here at night, as well!” gushed Donna. “I love seeing the London skyline all lit up.   Every time I come up here, I spot something I missed before.” 

“What do you see tonight?” 

Donna furrowed her brow and bit her lower lip as she let her gaze wander from left to right. “Let’s see…there’s the Gherkin… the Shard…Saint Paul’s….I can just make out the London Eye...I’m fairly certain that’s Parliament all the way to the right.” 

“You forgot to mention the most important one: Big Ben.” 

“I could never forget Big Ben. I can feel him resting against the small of my back.” 

“Big Ben! For fucks sake, Donna! Are you referring to my peen?” 

“Yes.” 

“Christ,” he groaned. 

“Humph! I thought you liked having your ego…and Big Ben stroked.” 

“Oh, I do – what man doesn’t? I fancy nothing more; and I’m, of course, flattered as fuck. It’s just that I find that nickname so…well…erm… cheesy.” 

“Cheesy?” Donna pouted. “I think it’s kind of a cute play on words. You’re name is Ben and…” 

“To be honest, I’m really not particularly fond of it,” interrupted Benedict abruptly. “All the women I’ve ever been intimate with always used to refer to my peen as Big Ben - when erect, of course. They thought it was sooooo cute. Ugh! It used to make me want to puke.” 

_Message received loud and clear. He doesn’t like having his penis referred to as Big Ben. I need to find another affectionate term._

“I’m not all _that_ impressive in my flaccid state.” 

_Now he’s fishing for compliments. Why is he so insecure about his size? I give him plenty of positive feedback, and it’s all true! His ball sack is certainly bigger than average from what I’ve read and seen. His penis is just large enough for me to take in comfortably. I don’t need a super-size to be satisfied.  
_

“I’m a grower, not a shower, as you well know,” he added. 

_Okay. I can take the hint, Benedict. Male genitalia compliments coming right up._

“And you do an admirable job of growing, too. I find you very impressive when erect. As far as I’m concerned, you’re the perfect size for getting the job done – and you always do a fabulous job!” 

“Thank you, Love. I do aim to please.” 

_I can’t see him, but I bet he’s doing the cute nose crinkle and smile._

“You also have great aim. You’ve been hitting my sweet spot almost every time we make love.” 

Donna ventured a quick glance behind her and could see Benedict beaming in the moonlight. “Thank you.” 

“You never fail to please me, Ben Honey. Not once since we’ve been together – whether you use you penis or your tongue…” 

“Hmmm. I really do enjoy using my tongue on and in you. I suppose I could say it’s lip smackin’ satisfaction,” he snickered, smacking his lips loudly. 

Donna wriggled out of his grasp and stood facing him, hands on hips. 

“You’re such a wise ass, Benedict.” 

“I couldn’t help myself.” 

“That nighty and robe are almost see-through in the moonlight,” he observed with a sly smile. 

“This robe wasn’t made for warmth. It was made for seduction.” 

“You got your money’s worth. I’m starting to get stiff. Now, come back here before you catch a chill!” 

Donna settled back in his arms. She gazed up at him with a smirk.

“I don’t feel any difference yet.” 

“It’s cold up here,” came his deep, baritone chuckle. 

“Can you please say that again.” 

“It’s cold up here.” 

“No. Not that. The Carldonn slogan.” 

Benedict began to laugh. “It would be my pleasure. Ready?” 

“Yes, and you can leave out the demonstration this time.” 

“Awww that’s half the fun! Okay. Lip smackin’ satisfaction.” 

“Good gravy! That really does sound corny when you say it.” 

“I told you it is corny as fuck.” 

Donna bit her lower lip. “Maybe Carly and I need to rethink it.” 

_Oh, Benedict, you need to stop teasing her. She’s so damn proud of that slogan and you’re stood here taking the piss. Do the right thing and apologize._

Benedict bent down and planted a soft kiss on her cheek. “I apologize for not turning on my mouth filter. Just because I don’t fancy your slogan doesn’t make it bad. It’s just my…my review of it. It’s akin to when you review food. Something may be prepared properly, but you find it isn’t to your personal taste. It doesn’t make the dish bad, it’s just not to your liking. Keep the slogan and don’t mind me.” 

“I won’t.” 

“Won’t what?” 

“Mind you. I really do like it and intend to keep it.” 

“Fine then. I’m glad that’s been sorted. Now, what were we talking about?” 

“Your penis and its lack of an acceptable nickname.” 

_Bloody hell! We’re back to that nonsense again. To be fair, how was she to know that all my past lovers used to tease me with that? It could be worse; she could want to call me Big Benny. Beth tried that once, and I just couldn’t get it up no matter what she did that night. I suppose I should just give in and let her use it._

“I shouldn’t have been so stropy about being called ‘Big Ben’, Darling. I realize now that there was never any malice intended. It was only meant to be used as a term of endearment between lovers. I’m sorry for making a big deal out of it; Donna; so, if you fancy using it, I guess I’m okay with it.” 

_I’m not using one of your ex-lovers’ pet names for your penis. No way in motherfucking hell.   Jeez Louise, I’m starting to swear like him now._

“On reflection, you’re right, Benedict. It’s cheesy. We’re adults and don’t need cutesy-poo nicknames for our genitalia.” 

“Cutesy-poo? I do love your choice of words at times. It’s always good for a giggle.”

 “I know! How about the Tickling Turtle?” 

“Why on earth would you call it that, pray tell?” 

“I thought it would be obvious. Turtle because he hides in your foreskin until it’s time to come out and play. Well, tickle because sometimes it tickles me when you thrust a certain way.” 

“I wouldn’t suggest using that if you’re serious about ever having sex with me again. I would collapse in a fit of giggles every time you said that.” 

“How about the Artful Thruster?” 

“Umm…nooooooo.” 

“It was a play on Oliver Twist and the Artful Dodger.” 

“I’m only too painfully aware.” 

“Excalibur?” 

“Hmmm…you wish to liken me to King Arthur’s magical sword.” 

“You have worked magic on me. You’re the first man to give me an orgasm during actual intercourse.” 

“That’s flattering as hell, but I’ll need to get back to you on that.” 

“Wait! How’s this one: Bountiful Benedict?” 

“You’re really having fun with this, aren’t you?” 

“I take that as a ‘no’.” 

“By the way, you can forget Excalibur. It does nothing for me. Perhaps the Holy Grail would be more suitable.” 

“You’re making fun of me.”

“Yep. I am.” 

“OH! I’ve got the perfect nickname! How about Sergeant Stiffy? You always say you’re getting stiff.” 

“Not now, I’m not. And I guarantee you I won’t _ever_ , if you refer to him as that.” 

“How does the Thrill Drill sound?” 

“It doesn’t thrill _me_ in the slightest.” 

“Gosh, Ben, you’re not being very open-minded.” 

“My mind is now officially closed to these rubbish suggestions.” 

“You’re no fun, Benedict.” 

“How do you fancy having your vagina called Delicious Donna or …wait…this one is truly Disney-inspired, which I know you’ll just adore. How about the Cave of Wonders?” 

Donna began to laugh. “You’re referring to Aladdin! You’re such a dork sometimes!” 

“We can even role play, if you fancy. I’ll be Aladdin and you can be Jasmine. I can use one of my bath towels for a proper turban.” 

Donna turned to face him and threw up her hands in mock surrender. 

“I see your point. We don’t need cutesy-poo nicknames. Let’s call them what they are: A penis and a vagina.” 

“That’s a very wise decision.” 

“I don’t think I could call your penis the Thrill Drill with a straight face,” snorted Donna. 

“And I wouldn’t be able to perform after hearing that. I’d be crying with laughter every time you said it!” chortled Benedict. 

The two of them stood, braced against each other and laughing. After they had composed themselves, they stood enjoying the view for several minutes. Benedict hugged her against him tightly, and Donna raised her face to his in order to share a few lingering, sweet kisses. 

“I wish there were more room up here,” said Benedict. “There’s barely enough room for four people to move around.” 

“If you were to dormer and expand the loft, you’d have another whole floor and space for a larger roof terrace. Have you ever considered doing that?” 

“Of course I have. I actually drafted floor plans for renovations, but a little thing called money prevents me from considering any sort of home improvement at this time, which your mother so kindly pointed out tonight. The server and food runners must know all my business for fucks sake.” 

Benedict heard the sharp intake of Donna’s breath and felt her stiffen against him. 

“I’m sorry, Donna,” he said, rubbing her arms. “I didn’t mean to bring up dinner.” 

Donna pulled away from him and turned to face him. She could see the worry lines creasing his forehead, which made him look older. 

“I think you did, Ben. I think it’s still eating at you – pardon the pun. I know it is at me. You’re right; it’s really getting cold up here. How about we go back downstairs and talk where it’s warm - unless you’d rather stay up here by yourself for a while longer.” 

“No. My teeth are starting to chatter, and I don’t fancy either of us catching a chill. We also need to sort things out. I think we’ve both been avoiding talking about what happened tonight for fear of upsetting each other.” 

“It’s too late for that. We’re both already upset.” 

“True, and when I’m upset I often feel peckish,” Benedict declared as he indicated that she should go back inside. “So let’s go inside and raid the pantry that you were so kind to restock for me.” 

Benedict closed and locked the door behind them while Donna headed down the stairs. He could hear the creaking floorboards as she made her way to the kitchen. He found her filling a saucepan with whole milk, which she set on the stove on medium heat. 

“What are you making?” 

“Warm milk with molasses.” 

Benedict smiled as he removed a bag of crisps from one of the cabinets and pulled it open. He first offered the bag to Donna, who politely declined. 

“That makes me feel very nostalgic. Mum used to make me that whenever I had trouble sleeping,” he commented around a mouthful of crisps. “It doesn’t go with crisps though.” 

“It will go with my Campeche cookies.” 

Donna looked up and stared at Benedict in the bright light. She blinked in disbelief and shook her head as if to clear it. Then she began to giggle wildly. His face turned beet red as her eyes roamed over his body. 

“Am I seeing things or are you wearing owl pajamas?” 

“You’re seeing things.” 

“I couldn’t tell outside what the pattern was. Holy cow! I definitely see a theme here. Owl socks, owl pajamas. Do you own owl underwear, too?” 

“Please don’t judge me. These were a gift from Emmy last Christmas.” 

Donna moved closer to a clearly mortified Benedict and studied the flannel material. She burst out laughing and covered her mouth. Her eyes were sparkling in merriment. 

“Jeez, Ben! Your family sure does know how to run with a joke. Owls dressed for bed. I love the one with the sleeping cap and the one wearing the nightshirt! Hahahah!!!” 

“Says the woman standing before me wearing a sexy nightie with cow head slippers,” retorted Benedict. “How many different pairs do you own?” 

“Three. One is back home, one I keep here and the other is in Marco’s apartment.” 

_I have eight all together, but he’d think I’m crazy.  
_

“Hmmm…three qualifies as a herd. Mooooo.” 

“The ones I’m wearing are unique because they vibrate.” 

Benedict’s eyes lit up and he raised an eyebrow at her. “Oh ho! Now, that’s quite kinky…” 

“They have batteries inside …” 

“I’m well acquainted with vibrators, but I’ve never seen ones like this. Are they meant to be used together?” 

“Yes, and the purpose is to massage your tired feet,” laughed Donna. 

“Those bovine slippers don’t exactly give me a stiffy. They spoil the vamp look you were obviously striving for. Now, if you had on those slippers with the heels and fluffy stuff on the insteps, I’d have you up against the refrigerator.” 

“The fluffy stuff is called marabou,” Donna corrected him gently. “I didn’t know satin slippers with heels turned you on so.” 

“Well, they do. I’m a total tart for sexy lingerie and footwear.” 

“I’ll have to remember that…unless you’re also secretly turned on by owl slippers. I bet your mother could hook me up with a pair.” 

“For fucks sake! Please stop teasing me about the owls, and in turn I’ll stop teasing you about your fascination with cows!” 

“Deal.” 

“I’m not the only one in the family who wears…weird themed clothing. Dad is fond of wearing holiday-themed bow ties and musical socks on Christmas. He knows I find it embarrassing, so each year he tries to outdo himself.” 

“I think that’s sweet. I like that Tim isn’t afraid to get into the holiday spirit!” 

“We’ll see how much spirit you feel when you go out with him in public, and he’s wearing his holiday gear. Last year he wore his full regalia to a holiday tea at the Savoy. No one could figure out where the bloody music was coming from.” 

Donna checked the temperature of the milk and got down the jar of molasses. It was stuck and Benedict automatically opened it for her. He leaned against the counter, watching her intently as she read the label on the jar as he continued to munch on crisps. She opened the drawer beside the stove and removed a set of measuring spoons. The conversation and banter had ceased to flow, causing him to feel uneasy. Benedict brushed the crumbs off his hands and put the crisp bag back in the cabinet. 

“You’re awfully quiet, Donna. Did I say something to offend you?” 

“Every Christmas season my family wears Disney Christmas-themed sweatshirts. I even own a pair of Christmas cow slippers.” 

“Christ. I’ll remember to have you sat next to Dad at Christmas. You two deserve each other.” 

“You’re making fun of me.” 

“Not at all. What you do in the privacy of your own home is your business.” 

“We wear them outside with our personalized Santa hats. Our family always spends Christmas at Disney World. Everyone wears them in the parks. It’s been our family’s holiday tradition and so much fun! The whole extended family goes, and I so look forward to it!” 

_Don’t say a word, Benedict. It’s a family tradition and if you start with taking the piss, she’ll dress you down for it and deservedly so. Besides she’ll be here in London this Christmas being we’ll be engaged…I hope. She might say no. There’s no guarantee. I asked Liv to marry me three times, and she turned me down all three. That hurt like hell. If Donna said no, I’d be utterly gutted._

_Hmmm…Christmas at Disney World. I just automatically assumed it would be business as usual. However, Benedict is now in the picture. Would he come with me? Heck, I never even considered that I might have to work here. I haven’t put in for time off. Eric’s already given me Thanksgiving off to spend in New York in return for writing the Christmas in New York feature. Carly can do whatever she wants as she’s self-employed. Steven would have to make arrangements with the doctor he works with. How things can change in less than a year…maybe we’ll be going our own ways for the holidays. I’ve been assuming that Benedict will be able to drop everything and come to Florida. Maybe he can’t or maybe he won’t want to be with my family after tonight and tomorrow.  
_

_Did Donna just say she spends Christmas at Disney with her family? Yes, she did. She also said it was a tradition, which means they go every year. Well this year she won’t be going. She’ll be spending the holidays in the Cotswolds with my family. Then we’ll take a long holiday together before I start filming Sherlock. Maybe Mum and Dad will let us use the holiday house in Greece._

“I was thinking that I’m really in the mood for something chocolatey,” mused Benedict. “Could I talk you into having a hot chocolate first?” 

“Always. As you like to say, I’m a tart for anything chocolate. What are we having after the hot chocolate?” 

Benedict winked suggestively at her. “Hot sex.” 

“I like how you think, Mr. Cumberbatch.” 

Benedict got two beakers down from the cabinets he kept his dishes in. Then he opened another cabinet and removed a tin that was labeled ‘bittersweet drinking chocolate’. He stood beside Donna and gently nudged her away from the stove with his hip. 

“I’ll make it. Why don’t you get us some chantilly cream to top it off?” 

“Sure,” said Donna going to the refrigerator. “I don’t see any heavy cream.” 

“The can on the top shelf, next to the orange juice.” 

“You want to top off homemade hot chocolate with this aerosol…stuff?” 

“If you read the can, you’ll see it’s real cream. How about indulging me this one time yes? Besides it’s that or nothing…unless you feel like taking a run out to the shops, not that there will be any place open at this hour.” 

Donna placed the can on the counter and leaned against it, watching him with her arms folded. 

“Consider yourself indulged.” 

“That’s a very sensible decision on your part.” 

Benedict added a few tablespoons of the coarsely grated chocolate to the milk and stirred it with a whisk until it melted into the milk and was hot and foamy. 

“That smells divine,” purred Donna, as she filled the mugs with hot water in order to warm them.

_I do love how I've got her trained to automatically heat the beakers.  There's hope for her yet.  Well, maybe not when it comes to making bloody tea, but I'm the eternal optimist._

“It is. I guarantee it! There is nothing like a cup of proper hot chocolate. It makes you realize just how awful that powdered instant shit in the envelopes is.” 

“You happen to have a box of that instant powdered shit with dehydrated mini marshmallows in your cabinet. In case you forgot, you stored it next to the instant coffee and tea bags,” snickered Donna. “And here I thought you only used freshly ground coffee and loose leaf tea. Shame on you, Benedict Cumberbatch! You told me a story!” 

“I only partake of those things when I’m in a hurry. I don’t always have the luxury of time,” he said defensively. “I must have my full eight hours of sleep or I’m one grumpy bastard in the morning.” 

“I can attest to that,” snickered Donna, placing some of her cinnamon cookies on a small plate. She offered one to Benedict, who promptly opened his mouth and chomped down on it.  

“Mmm...these are brilliant.  Mmmm...I know you don’t buy instant coffee, but I’ve seen tea bags and instant cocoa mix in your kitchen, Sweetheart.” 

“You proclaim to be the discriminating tea drinker, not me. I’m perfectly happy with my regular Lipton decaf tea bags. I do admit the instant hot chocolate is for when I’m feeling lazy.” 

“A proper food critic should never keep instant cocoa in her pantry or tea bags for that matter,” mock-scolded Benedict. “What would your readers think?” 

“That I use them because I like the convenience, especially whenever I’m in a hurry – like most people.” 

“I bet they would be appalled to find that out. I may have to keep that little unknown tidbit about you under my cap in case the day arises when I need to use it for blackmail. I can call in an anonymous tip to the Daily Mail that esteemed London Tribune Restaurant Critic Donna Saint James keeps ordinary tea bags and instant cocoa mix in her pantry.” 

“Very funny.” 

Benedict took a spoon out of the cutlery drawer and tasted the simmering chocolatey mixture and smacked his lips with emphasis. He side-eyed Donna with an amused expression on his face as he started to open his mouth. She had just emptied the mugs and was glaring at him. 

“Don’t you dare say what I think you’re going to say, Benedict!” 

Benedict smiled smugly at her. “I wouldn’t dream of it, but I’m thinking it.” 

He carefully poured the hot chocolate into the mugs, and Donna topped them with the canned whipped cream, making sure to mound it into an attractive swirl. 

“This looks and smells delightful! I can’t wait to taste it!” 

“Oh, I’m not quite done yet,” said Benedict, as he opened the door to the refrigerator. He returned with a jar of chocolate fudge sauce and drizzled a bit over the top of the cream. Then he pulled out a small plastic container of mini-chocolate chips and sprinkled them over the top of the cream. 

He stood back and admired his work. “Voila! Benedict’s Special Hot Chocolate!” 

“Shall we adjourn to the living room?” 

They carried the steaming mugs over to the couch and sat down on opposite ends. Donna peeled off her robe and laid it on the coffee table. Suddenly, Donna felt a chilly tension in the air as if the window had been left open. Her heart began to beat faster and she felt anxious. 

“What fresh hell is this?” demanded Benedict with a raised eyebrow. “You always sit next to me.” 

“I needed a place to put my mug.” 

Benedict indicated the coffee table in front of the couch by pointing his corduroy slipper-clad foot. “You usually put your drinks here.” 

Donna didn’t say anything. She sat stoically and took a sip of her beverage. 

_We have to talk about tonight, and we seem to be doing everything we can to delay it. I can feel the tension radiating off of him. He’s doing a good job letting me think he’s in good humor, but I know better. He’s stewing inside._

_I’ve stalled enough. I need to have my say or I’m going to fucking explode. The longer I let my anger fester like an open wound, the odds of my holding my temper will steadily plummet. I need to keep a cool head when discussing her motherfucking parents._

“Mmmmm…this is _really_ good, Ben Honey. You can be the official hot chocolate maker in our family.” 

Benedict’s head whipped around to regard her. “Do you consider us family?” 

“Of course I do…you are so very, very dear to me, Benedict. We’re just not an official family…a…legal one. You know what I mean.” 

“You mean when two people marry they become a family of their own, separate from the ones they were born into.” 

“Exactly.” 

“Well, that’s the last thing your parents want,” blurted out Benedict, jumping to his feet and startling Donna. He began to pace back and forth in front of the couch, while rubbing the back of his neck. “They probably went back to your flat and constructed a voodoo doll, which is why I’ve got this gnawing pain in my gut. I’ve never felt such…I don’t know…loathing as I felt tonight.” 

“They don’t loathe you, Benedict. That’s a very strong word.” 

“Do you prefer dislike then?” 

“They don’t exactly dislike you,” said Donna slowly. 

“I fucking don’t know what to think!” he shouted, waving his arms about. “I felt like I was in the motherfucking Twilight Zone with a front row seat to the most extraordinary fuckery I’ve ever had the misfortune to witness, yet be a part of.” 

“Twilight Zone?” 

“Yes! The bloody, motherfucking Twilight Zone!” 

Benedict stopped in front of Donna and immediately launched into a spot on imitation of Rod Serling, the former host of the old TV show _The Twilight Zone_ : 

“You disembark from the elevator into what appears to be an innocent restaurant. But beyond it lies another dimension: a dimension of ambiguity, a dimension of hostility, a dimension of unending sarcasm. A place where subtlety doesn’t exist and no boyfriend is safe from ridicule. You’re moving into a waking nightmare where nothing is private as all your secrets and personal information is known to all. Where there is an abundance of contradictions. Where both unexpected praise and snark are doled out in equal measure. Where you must be constantly on your guard as you never know from which direction more fuckery will commence. You’ve just crossed over into… the Saint James Twilight Zone.” 

_Oh my God! That was the most extraordinary impression I’ve ever seen in my life._

“That was an uncanny imitation of Rod Serling, Benedict! I’m so impressed. You’re so much better than the guy who does the voice over in the Tower of Terror at Disney’s Hollywood Studios.” 

Benedict’s handsome face clouded over. “I didn’t do that to entertain you, _Sweetheart_!” he snapped. “I did it to illustrate how utterly ridiculous and unnecessary tonight’s performance was!” 

“Performance?” 

“Your parents put on a performance for me tonight. They work together like a well-oiled machine. I’ve never seen anything like it in my life – nor do I hope to again!” 

Donna sat still, trying to fight back the tears that were forming. Her stomach felt queasy, and her heart was fluttering. 

_I’ve never seen him so angry. No wonder Wanda and Tim are afraid of his wrath. I get it now._

“Are you going to just be sat there and contribute nothing to this conversation?” he demanded. 

“Umm…so far this has been a monologue.” 

“Go on then.” 

“You’re being hostile.” 

“You’re damn right, I’m hostile!” spat Benedict, ice blue eyes flashing. “Your parents crossed a line tonight, Donna. They were rude, disrespectful and utterly insulting to me. I’ve met my former girlfriends’ parents before, but none of them could ever hold a candle to yours!   I was always treated with the utmost respect and courtesy. Your parents are on a whole other cosmic level! They take the bloody cake is what they do! They took that fucking cake and tried to shove it in my face.” 

“They’re specialty _is_ ‘good cop/bad cop’,” said Donna in a small voice. “Then they switch roles. I must agree that it’s very unnerving.” 

_Oh, no. He’s started pacing again to try and relieve the agitation and restlessness he’s feeling. I half expect to see him jump up onto the coffee table at this rate._

“And they have brilliantly illustrated that they are extremely adept at playing good cop/bad cop, as well as the fine art of intimidation. One minute your mother praises me, the next your father cuts me down. Then they switch roles, as you pointed out. My head was spinning.” 

“To be fair, they did say some nice things to you and…” 

“Yeah, and I was actually shocked as shit that your father said some positive things to me, and I was secretly pleased as fuck with his feedback. To think that Neil Saint James actually liked some things that I’ve done was such a treat to my ears. I even mistakenly deluded myself into thinking we might be able to peacefully co-exist. However, mere minutes later, he’s lacing into me again!” 

“That’s what they’ve always done with my past boyfriends. I did try and stop them several times, but you saw where that got me. I was either ignored or told to be quiet, and while we’re on that subject, do you realize that you also told me to mind my own business?” 

“Erm…yeah. I did say that, and I meant it.” 

“Thanks a lot! How could I possibly defend you if you tell me to keep quiet?” 

“I didn’t want you to defend me!” 

“You conveyed the message loud and clear. I won’t make that mistake again.” 

“Before you get all stropy, Donna, let me try and explain myself better. I was torn. I very much wanted to defend myself without your intervention; yet there was a part of me that wanted you to put a stop to the lunacy. I very much appreciated your attempts to come to my defense and curtail them; but I would have been even more appreciative if you would have supported me by leaving when you said we were going to.” 

“Whoa hoa here. If memory serves, you were the one who insisted we stay and have our entrees. That wasn’t my idea. I would have left and cooked us something here.” 

“We had already ordered, and the mains were about to be served. Also, I’ll be a son of a bitch if I was going to pay for food I didn’t get a chance to eat. And don’t look at me like that – I know what you’re thinking.” 

“No. You really don’t know.” 

“You’re thinking I was being cheap.” 

“See. You’re wrong. I was thinking that you wanted to stay and try to iron things out with them; and for the record - I would also never describe you as cheap. You happen to be a very generous man.” 

Benedict wiped some spittle from his lips that had formed while he had been yelling. “Shit, I’ve been foaming at the mouth – literally.” 

“I hope we didn’t wake Bob with this… loud…discussion.” 

“Let’s call it what it is. We’re in the midst of a row, and I’ve been yelling. Not to worry about Bob though. He works nights and sleeps with earplugs during the day.” 

“Lucky for him.” 

Benedict paused to take a sip of his hot chocolate. The whipped cream had melted and when he finished, his lips were covered in white foam. Donna couldn’t help but smile a little. 

“What’s so damn amusing?” 

“You’ve got whipped cream all over your lips. Now, you really look like you’re foaming at the mouth.” 

“Bloody hell!” Benedict growled as he impatiently wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and stomped across the room to his desk, where he brought his fist down hard on the blotter, scattering papers everywhere. 

“You know, Donna, things certainly didn’t go the way either of us had hoped. Your parents did an extraordinary job of baiting me, and I stupidly took the bait several times. I didn’t intend to lose my temper; but I wasn’t going to be sat there and be treated like a piece of shit. I will not be shown any disrespect or made the fool.” 

“I didn’t expect you to let them walk all over you. I’m glad you called them out.” 

Donna watched as Benedict strode back to couch and flopped down wearily. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes.  He no longer seemed to be agitated.   

“Tonight goes down as one of the most miserable nights of my life. I hope to God I never have to dine with them again. Oh. Fuck me. We’ve got to have tea with them tomorrow and add my parents into the mix. Guaranteed fun for all!” 

Donna felt a lump in her throat as she studied Benedict’s face. His jaw was clenched and his lips were set in a thin line. He rested his hands on his stomach. 

“Ben Honey,” she began tentatively. 

“Shhhhh! No more, please. I really can’t take any more. I just want to be left alone.” 

“They will only be here until Friday. After tomorrow, you don’t have to see them if you don’t want to. I’ll tell them you’re tied up with filming on location. They’ll never be the wiser if you’re not.” 

“I really don’t think I can handle a steady diet of them! I’d gladly slit my fucking wrists first. I dearly want this relationship to work, Donna – more than I can adequately express, but your parents are making it impossible! I can’t – don’t want to live in a constant state of anxiety.” 

Donna felt her heart pounding and the blood rushing in her ears. 

_Does he want to break up? What does he mean? I don’t want to lose him over this!_

Benedict’s eyes popped open as Donna suddenly burst into tears. 

“I’m so sorry, Benedict!” she sobbed. “This turned out worse than even I could imagine. I don’t want my parents to come between us and ruin what we have together. I swear I won’t let them!” 

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Love,” he said quietly as he moved over to sit beside her. “Look at me,” he said cupping her chin and leaning in to kiss her lips briefly. "I’m not angry with you. I do think I told you that earlier.” 

“I don’t want us to break up over this!” 

Benedict smoothed back her hair and kissed her forehead. “Who said anything about breaking up? I sure as hell didn’t. I have no intention of walking away from the most gratifying and loving relationship I’ve ever had the pleasure to be in.” 

Donna bit her lower lip as tears streamed down her face. “I meant it when I said I won’t let them come between us. I’ll cut off all ties with them until they come to their senses.” 

“No you won’t!” he said sharply. “You’re just saying that because you’re upset, Love. They are your parents, and you love them as much as they love you.” 

Benedict took a tissue from the box on the end table and wiped Donna’s face. “Blow,” he instructed, holding the tissue under her nostrils. 

“You just wiped my snotty nose. That’s gross.” 

“No. That’s love.” 

“You’re a good man, Benedict.” 

“Your parents and I may have our differences, but the one thing we have in common is that we love you deeply and want you to be happy. They’ve seen you with men who didn’t live up to their expectations – some who left you disillusioned and gun shy when it came to entering into new relationships. They don’t want to see you hurt again, and I can’t fault them for that. They only want the best for you, and of that I am sure. Being estranged from your parents will not make you happy. It will have the opposite effect. Not to mention it will only serve to erode our relationship in turn.” 

“It’s because you’re an actor,” Donna sniffed. “I brought home two actors who were…let’s just say huge disappointments to them… and to me in the end.” 

“I don’t plan on disappointing you, and I really don’t give two shits if I disappoint them. What I will make sure to do is to try and reassure them that your happiness and well being are paramount to me. I’m not going anywhere, so they need to accept me and learn to make the best of it.” 

“I should have been more forceful when standing up to them.” 

“You did the best you could, Darling. I understand that now. I had a talk with my dad tonight while you were downstairs taking a bath. He was telling me how he always felt caught in the middle between Mum and his own mother. I’ve told you the story already, so I’ll spare you a repeat of the details. Dad said it was very hard not to take sides, so he often didn't. He decided that it was best for his sanity to let Mum and Gran sort things out for themselves, which is what they wound up doing. I think in this case, you are in the same position Dad was in all those years ago. You’re stuck in the middle between your parents and me; and I think it’s best that you do the same. Let me handle them. We all made our positions known tonight. I’m not afraid of them, nor they of me. It’s going to be a bumpy ride, but somehow we’ll manage to sort it out in the end for your sake and sanity.” 

“They wouldn’t like to hear you say that you’re not afraid of them. They love when prospective serious suitors are intimidated. You gave them a run for their money, and I’m so proud that you stood up to them!” 

“I’ll let you in on a secret. I was trying very hard not to show them that I was getting rattled. My knees were knocking together under the table, but once I decided it was eat or be eaten, I was alright.” 

“I couldn’t believe you brought up Uncle Angelo! And the information on their town house renovation and its property value. Where did you get all that information?” 

Benedict gave her a smug smile. “I have my sources.” He winked at her. 

Donna scowled back at him. “This isn’t Watergate, and you’re not Bob Woodward. Give up your source, please.” 

“Never.” 

“It had to be Rob or Dennis. They are the only lawyers you know who would have access to private investigators.” 

“Rob’s been preoccupied with a case he’s been trying and in court most days; so I went to Dennis. His office uses private investigators all the time.” 

“As you would say: Bloody well done.” Donna leaned over and firmly planted a wet kiss on his lush lips. “I love you.” 

“And I love you,” Benedict responded. “I think your parents and I have come to an understanding of sorts. They can try to shit on me all they fancy, but I won’t be shat upon. I also will state for the record that there is no way I will ever move to the States permanently. If we are going to have any sort of civil relationship, we will need to keep an ocean in between us.” 

“Well said, Ben Honey. I’m in full agreement about keeping the Atlantic Ocean between us. It’s much easier dealing with them for several short visits here than full time in New York. Don’t say anything to Carly, but I’m sure Steven feels the same way. I have a feeling that he’s looking to get a permanent position at the hospital here.” 

_He sure as shit does and is actively pursuing it,_ thought Benedict. _The good doctor wants that so bad he can taste it._

Donna picked up her mug and drank some hot chocolate. She grimaced. “Ugh! It got cold. Do you want me to reheat yours?” 

Benedict sipped his and nodded in agreement. “Yeah. I think we need some more of that lovely aerosol cream. Mine’s melted.” 

He watched as Donna took their mugs into the kitchen and put them into the microwave for a minute. He loved the semi-transparent chemise that showed a hint of white lace knickers underneath. 

“Are we okay then yes?” 

“Yes,” Donna replied, returning to sit beside him with the hot chocolate. She took a sip of hers. “That’s much better.” 

Benedict blew lightly on the surface of the steaming milk before taking a swallow. 

“Mmmm…this would be even better with a shot of crème de cacao.” 

“Oooo…sounds…yummy. And while you’re at it, I forgot the whipped cream.” 

Benedict bounced off the couch and brought the mugs into the kitchen so he could add the liqueur to them. “Do you fancy one shot or two?” he asked over his shoulder. 

“I’m feeling wanton, so I’ll take two. It will help relax me.” 

“And I’m feeling randy as hell,” he muttered.  _Fuck the hot chocolate.  I need to be fucked. Badly._

Benedict swiftly returned with the can of whipped cream in his dressing gown pocket. He gave her a devilish smile as he scooped her up off the couch and carried her down the hallway. 

“Hey! Where’s my hot chocolate and where are you taking me?” Donna Saint James asked with a knowing look in her hazel eyes. 

“To the bedroom so we can help each other relax.”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I decided to summarize the end of the dinner at the Ivy Club rather than devote another chapter to it as I was anxious to move on. I usually don't go for such lengthy narratives, but this would have translated into another two chapters the way I write. 
> 
> 2\. My apologies for the large type on some of the text lines. Something got embedded, and I have no idea how to fix it. Everything appears normal on my actual chapter; but somehow the size shows as too large on here when I paste it it. I've tried numerous times to fix it; but no luck. 
> 
> 3\. Rod Serling was an American screenwriter, playwright, television producer, and narrator best-known for being the creator and host of the science-fiction anthology TV series, The Twilight Zone. The Twilight Zone ran on American TV from 1959 to 1964. The series consists of unrelated stories depicting paranormal, futuristic, Kafkaesque, or otherwise disturbing or unusual events; each story typically features a moral and a surprise ending. 
> 
> 4\. There is a free-fall ride at Walt Disney World in Orlando, Florida called "The Tower of Terror". It is based on the Twilight Zone and places riders in a vehicle themed as a seemingly ordinary hotel elevator. Prior to getting on the ride vehicle, you walk through the haunted, abandoned Hollywood Tower Hotel and wind up in a library where Rod Serling (courtesy of a fabulous voice-over actor) sets the scene by relating the fictional back story in which people mysteriously disappeared from a hotel elevator under the influence of some supernatural element many years prior. The ride vehicle is programmed to have different numbers of free falls each time you ride it. Once I had one and a half drops, another - and my last time - was four. Never again. I'm a wimp. 
> 
> 5\. Watergate refers to a major political scandal that took place in the US back in the 1970's. Bob Woodward was one of the Washington Post reporters who helped reveal it thanks to his anonymous source, Deep Throat.


	105. Chapter 105

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Benedict and Donna help each other relax with the aid of a can of whipped cream. Once again, Benedict finds himself drawn to Donna’s text messages and gives into temptation. 
> 
> Warning: Lots of explicit sex in this chapter, as well as lots of raunchiness and waffling. If easily offended, I suggest you may want to skip to the end of the chapter.

 

Benedict Cumberbatch slammed his bedroom door shut with his foot and unceremoniously tossed Donna Saint James onto his king-sized bed.

“Ooooffff!” Donna exclaimed as she fell amongst the soft, down-filled pillows onto the thick pillow-topped mattress.

“It’s high time we relieve all this pent up tension,” announced Benedict as he hastily stripped off his robe, pajamas and pants.

He extracted the can of whipped cream from the pocket of his robe and tossed it onto the bed where it landed beside Donna. The chilled can rolled into Donna’s side.

“Damn, that’s cold!” she exclaimed as she abruptly pushed it away.

“I’m so fucking randy, I can’t stand it!” Benedict proclaimed, eyeing her like a predator eyes his prey. He towered over her like an Adonis, his fully erect penis red and almost angry-looking in the dim lighting.

_Oh my gosh! A naked, horny Benedict and a can of whipped cream! What does my honey have in mind? I need to get this damn nighty and panties off now._

Donna quickly sat up and carefully lifted the chemise over her head, tossing it onto Benedict’s night clothes, which were already littering the floor. Before she had a chance to wiggle out of her panties, Benedict had launched himself onto the bed and pushed Donna down onto her back. He then positioned his arms on either side of her and propped himself up on his elbows so as not to rest his full weight on top of her. She could feel his erection straining against her stomach. His eyes appeared blue- green in the golden light of his bedside lamp as he leered at her from above.

“You didn’t give me a chance to take off my panties.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Benedict growled in a low, almost menacing voice. “I want you, and I’m going to take you NOW! Knickers be damned!”

Donna heard the sound of the delicate lace around her hips rip as Benedict impatiently pulled the wispy panties off of her, tossing them onto the nightstand.

_So much for the twenty-pound pair of panties, seduction guaranteed so the salesgirl jokingly told me. I remember how I laughed along with her. Well, they certainly seduced him.  
_

"Hey!  Those weren't one of the cheap cotton three-pack bikinis I sometimes buy. These cost..."

“I’ll buy you a motherfucking truck load of those frilly knickers for fucks sake!”

“You didn’t have to rip them to make your point. I get it. You’re horny and impatient to get laid.”

“Bugger off then and stop bitching about a bit of lace!” He commanded sharply, eyes flashing. “And spread those gorgeous legs of yours for me now!”

“How about kissing me before you fuck me, Benedict?”

“I don’t have the patience for a lot of foreplay tonight!”

“Well, you’re just going to have to find some! This woman requires a bit of romancing before she spreads her legs for you!”

There was a wild look in Benedict’s eyes as he gazed down at her, his cupids bow lips curled into a slight sneer. Donna noted his pupils were now fully dilated. She also found herself strangely excited by his domineering behavior.

_Wow! This is a side of him I’ve never seen before. I think I kind of like bossy bedroom Benedict.  
_

“You said you want to smooch a bit first, so what are you waiting for? Smooch me, damn it!” _  
_

_Yes, I did say that - just not in those exact words, Ben Honey._

Donna reached up to put her arms around his neck and pulled him down towards her. She could feel his pale ginger chest hair against her breasts. Benedict’s nipples had hardened, and his breathing had quickened. His warm breath smelled of the hot chocolate as his full, moist lips crashed together with her own. Donna found his kiss rough yet surprisingly erotic. He had never kissed her this roughly before.

Benedict drew back for a moment and regarded her through half-lidded eyes before leaning in to cover her mouth with his, tongue pushing between her lips. Their tongues swirled about each other’s, fighting for dominance. Donna gently sucked his tongue, which elicited a loud moan of approval from Benedict. She could hear his breathing become even more rapid as he rubbed his throbbing cock against her vulva. She felt her own passion starting to match his when he broke the French kiss and stopped rubbing against her now wet mound.

“Enough?” He inquired in a hoarse voice.

“A little more would be greatly appreciated.”

_Sometimes I hate that she needs so much foreplay. Oh, that was very greedy of you, Benedict. Remember that her pleasure directs affects your own in the end. I need to calm down and do my part to make her feel as horny as I do. Donna wants to feel loved up, too. She wants a bit of romancing._

Benedict sighed irritably. Then he pulled back and lavished deep kisses along her throat and neck, falling just short of actual sucking. Donna threaded her hands through his hair in order to massage and tug at his hair follicles.

_Christ! I can feel the tingles all the way down to my knob. I fucking love when she does this! Oh. My. Fuck._

“Pull harder,” he snarled. “I want to see how much I can tolerate.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you.”

“YES! I’m fucking sure! Don’t you think I know what I fancy in bed by now!”

_Okay. You want me to pull harder, than harder it shall be!_

Donna tugged his hair a bit harder than usual, which caused him to groan loudly. She felt his penis further stiffen and twitch against her leg in response.

_Christ, that actually felt good in a bad way. Not too much more though.  
_

_Honey seemed to actually like that…at least part of him did for sure._

“Was that too hard? The last thing I want to do is to hurt you, Ben.”

“Noooooo…I’m finding the bit of pain….a….turn…on,” he gasped in surprise. “More, please...just a tiny bit more.”

 _Okay. He wants more, I’ll give him more._ Donna wound her hands in his hair and pulled.

“Ouch! Shit! That hurt like a bitch!”

“Your lips say one thing, but your penis tells a different tale. You’re hard as a rock.”

“You can stop now. Please. I think I’ve had quite enough…I’m not into pain.”

“But you asked me to!”

“I realize that. Just wanted to experiment a bit is all. Now I know for the future.”

_Ben found that a little pain enhances his arousal, but he doesn’t really love it as much as he thought he would. Who knows what’s going through his mind.  
_

_This need I have to get off is almost overwhelming. She’s not ready though. I can tell. Perhaps physically, but not mentally. I need to get her to both places at the same time._

Benedict rutted against her thigh and began to give her heated wet kisses. Donna felt his fingers ghost their way down her torso and delicately stroke the insides of her thighs. They slowly moved over her mound, cupping it and almost roughly massaging it. Donna felt her excitement rapidly rising as his skillful fingers teased her outer and inner lips, just barely grazing her clit.

After several minutes of that delightful teasing, Donna felt her climax beginning to build.

“Benedict…I’m just about there…can you?”

“I thought you’d never ask!”

He deftly parted her legs with his hand as she took him inside her. She felt his penis fill her with one swift thrust.

“Jesus. Fuck. I’m so close,” he groaned. “I can’t …can’t…”

Donna felt him begin to thrust hard inside her. It was definitely rougher than he had ever been with her. She automatically wrapped her legs around his waist and felt him begin to shudder, as he buried his face in the space between her neck and shoulder.

“Feels…so….good….sooooo   good!   Fucking amazing! Hold me tight! NOW!” Came his choked command.

_I don’t think he can hold on much longer. His thrusts are getting erratic and I don’t feel his balls anymore. He’s too far gone._

“AHHHHH…Donna….Donna….Donna….I’m…I’m…OHHHHHHHHHH. FUCK. That feels sooooooo…my God!”

Benedict felt the world fade away from him as all he could concentrate on were the pleasurable sensations in his penis and groin area. They were so strong, he felt as if he were going to sink into a swoon.

Donna held him tightly as his sudden climax engulfed him in spasms of pleasure. His whole body trembled and jerked as he ejaculated deep inside her.

_That was over fast. I supposed I’ll have to take care of myself now.  
_

Benedict sighed contentedly as he felt everything slowly coming back into focus. He ran his fingers over the area just above his pubic hair and applied a little pressure, enjoying the pleasure aftershocks.   His body shivered involuntarily at the contact. _  
_

_That happened much too fast for Donna to get any enjoyment out of that.  You were greedy for your own release, Benedict, and you still crave more. Shame on you. You need to make sure your lover is as satisfied as you are. What is she doing? She’s touching herself.  
_

“Stop – that’s _my_ job!” Benedict commanded gruffly, reaching down to gently rub her pulsating clit in between his thumb and index finger until he heard her gasp at the sensations he was providing.

“And you’re doing an excellent one! I’m there…push me over…I’m there…I can feel it.”

“Good, Darling? Are you coming for me?”

Donna’s eyes were squeezed tightly shut. Her lips parted as she gasped, hips grinding against Benedict’s hand. Her chest was heaving as her own orgasm overcame her. He felt her body tremble as she held his hand in place.

“Oh, Ben, Ben, Ben, my Ben!” she chanted his name. “Per-fect!”

“Fancy another?”

“Do you really need to ask? Yes!”

Benedict moved out from in between her legs and paused for several seconds before beginning to rub her still swollen nub again in earnest. Donna felt herself begin to peak once again. It was akin to an itch that was begging to be scratched. It was maddening.

“Faster, Ben – JESUS FUCKING CHRIST JUST LIKE THAT!”

 _I’m really glad Bob works nights or he’d be pounding on the bloody ceiling with the broom,_ Benedict chuckled to himself. _Not to brag, but I think my Darling Donna enjoyed her release as much as I did mine.  
_

Donna slowly opened her eyes to behold a smiling Benedict. His lips were swollen, and his eyes once again had that soft glow to them. The tension and stress were drained from his body. He lay on his side facing her while he smoothed her hair.

“Come here,” he said, inviting her into his arms.

“Yes, sir.”

They assumed their favorite post-coital position with Benedict on his back and Donna lying on her side, cuddled against him with her head resting on his shoulder. They lie quietly, enjoying their post orgasmic bliss.

“That was spectacular,” Benedict said quietly. “I came so hard, I thought I was going to swoon.”

“Mmmmm…I think you might have. I asked you if you were okay, but you didn’t respond. You were in your own world.”

“And a happy place it was.”

“You have spectacular fingers, Ben Honey.”

“My fingers thank you for the compliment.”

“Do you feel better now? Less stressed?”

“Mmmm…yep,” he replied, popping the ‘p’. “I think we both needed that release.”

“You’ll get no argument from me.”

They were lying quietly, enjoying the closeness when Benedict felt Donna sit up and gently retract his foreskin. Then she began to take him in her hand and gently massage his foreskin. After a few minutes, she noticed he still remained limp in her hand. He sighed sadly and finally pushed her hand away.

“Don’t you want me to…”

“Of course I do; but it seems I need some more time to regroup. How about we have some play time first.”

“Play time?”

“I’m such a dolt! I almost forgot about the bloody Chantilly cream!”

Benedict sat up, grabbed the can of whipped cream, shook it and removed the cap.

“We left our hot chocolate in the living room. Shall I get it?”

Benedict gave an evil chuckle. “We’re not going to put this on hot chocolate.”

“Then what are you going to do with that?”

“You did say you wanted whipped cream, did you not, Love?”

“Yes, but we left...”

“And whipped cream you shall have! Haven’t you ever played in bed with food before?”

Look who he’s asking about playing in bed with food - Donna Saint James, known in sexual circles as Vanessa Vanilla. Is he kidding?

Benedict regarded her with a raised eyebrow, not quite sure what to do.

Donna shook her head. “No,” she replied meekly.

 “I promise we’ll stop if you don’t find it sexy. The worst that can happen is that we have a good giggle. Are you game?”

Well, as they say, when in Rome. I’m sure it will be fun. Benedict certainly isn’t dull in bed. He’s a man of surprises.

“Sure, I’m open to whatever you have in mind,” she replied brightly.

Benedict winked at her. “You’re in for quite the erotic treat then. Just relax and let me take care of you. I warn you, it may feel a little cool at first; but I’ll warm you up in no time. You have to trust me.”

“I trust you completely, Benedict.”

“Brilliant! Let’s start with your lovely boobs.” He smiled lasciviously at her as he sprayed a generous dollop of cream onto Donna’s nipples.

“Oooooo…that’s cold!” she giggled.

“It won’t be for long, Darling,” he said in that deep baritone voice of his.

Good gravy. He doesn’t need to use whipped cream to excite me. Just using that bedroom voice of his does it every time.

“See, just a cool feeling, yes? Close your eyes and think sexy thoughts – about me, preferably,” he chuckled.

Donna found the cooling sensation of the cream was strangely exciting to her and an insistent throbbing started between her legs, as he licked off the cream, using wide strokes of his warm tongue.  When he was done, he flicked her nipples with the tip of his tongue and then used his hand to gently massage and knead them.

“I don’t need to warm up…I’m already hot. Feel how wet I am…that’s what you do to me, Ben Honey.”

_I fucking love when she calls me that. I could come just from that, I swear I could._

“I’m so ready for you.”

Benedict moved his large, warm hand in between Donna’s legs and slowly parted her slick, wet lips. “Jesus. You weren’t kidding about being wet.”

_Just the thought that I can do that to her never fails to amaze and excite me all the more. I just want to be inside her right now and shag my brains out._

He carefully dipped his middle finger into her vagina and added another one. He moved them quickly in and out, while placing the pad of his thumb on her already engorged clitoris, alternating clockwise and anticlockwise circles, adding pressure as she wiggled her hips to gain more friction.

“Ooooooohhhhhhhhh…that feels so good, Benedict!” Donna moaned pushing her vulva against his hand. Suddenly, his hand was gone. Her eyes popped open.

Benedict had abruptly withdrawn his hand and made a show of licking her juices off of his fingers. “Delicious, but I think I fancy a bit of cream now.” He smiled seductively at her and his darkened eyes were filled with lust.

“I’m aching for you, Benedict.”

“And I’m aching for you as well, Love. As you can see, I’ve had sufficient time to rally.”

Donna looked down to see his penis was now partially erect, foreskin fully retracted of its own accord. Benedict retrieved the can and sprayed another dollop of cream onto her breasts. Then he bent down and slowly licked it off of her nipples, again using only the tip of his tongue, making sure to tease her nipples into hardened peaks as she squirmed and moaned softly. Donna found it very erotic watching him perform these ministrations.  

“Do you like this, Darling?”

 “My God, yes!”

“Shall we try again?”

“Yes, please! More!”

Donna closed her eyes and heard his deep throaty chuckle above her. Once again he sprayed a dollop of the cream onto her breasts. This time he made sure to cover her areoles. Benedict proceeded to lick if off even more slowly and deliberately with his flattened tongue, after which he took each nipple in between his lips and tugged gently. Finally, he sucked each one in turn until Donna was writhing beneath him.

“Benedict!” she screamed. “Oh my GOD!”

His penis stiffened further at the sound of her voice, and he reached down to give himself a few quick strokes. He felt a tingling at the base of his spine.

_Oh, that was too much, Benedict. Stop wanking or this will be over before the party starts. Concentrate on her pleasure, not yours. You came too soon last time. She really seems to be getting into it, bless her._

“Good?” he asked with a smug smile.

“Very good.”

Benedict felt her take his pulsing cock in turn and begin to slowly stroke him from base to tip, pausing to give a slight twist to the head, which he adored. Before long, a few tiny pearls of semen oozed out of the slit, and Donna used it to coat his penis as she began to increase pressure while sucking the head.

“Ahhhh…I’m having trouble concentrating,” Benedict said. “That feels amazing, but I don’t think you’d fancy mixing the taste of semen with Chantilly cream right now.”

 _I think I want to play with the whipped cream, too,_ thought Donna. _Why should he have all the fun? Not that I’m not having fun, but I need to pay attention to him, too – just not too much because he seems to be getting close to the edge. He’s not lasting long tonight._

“Give me that can,” she said in a throaty voice. “It’s my turn to play with you!”

“Not yet!” he snapped. “I’m not done with you yet.”

“Is this the only child syndrome rearing its ugly head? Stop being a selfish boy and share!"

"Erm...technically, I'm not an only child.  Tracy..."

"On your back please!”

Donna sat up and roughly pushed a clearly shocked, yet delighted Benedict onto his back, taking the can from him and shaking it wildly. He watched in fascination as she sprayed his nipples and made a line down his chest, circled his belly button and continued down his soft, downy ginger treasure trail until she came to the base of his fully erect penis.

“Bloody hell! That’s cold, Donna!” he exclaimed, shivering.

“You’ll get used to it. Just close your eyes and relax, Handsome.”

Donna studied his penis as she pondered her next step.

_Let’s see, it should be okay as long as I don’t get any in his slit. I’ll keep to the base and shaft._

She started when Benedict suddenly began to take himself in hand and stroke himself as he met her gaze. His pupils were once again fully dilated.

_Wait a minute, what is he doing?  
_

“I thought you were worried about climaxing too soon.”

“Ahhhh…but it feels sooooo fucking good. Besides, my peen was getting lonely,” he said, swollen cupid’s bow lips forming a mock pout.

_Should I? Yes, I should!_

“Move your hand, please.”

“I need stimulation, Donna! You stopped rubbing me when you decided to play Picasso on my body with the fucking chantilly cream. My turtle needs stroking or he’ll retreat into his shell…I mean foreskin.”

Donna widened her eyes and covered her mouth with her hand. “Jesus, Ben. Did you just say…”

“I thought I’d try out a little…cutsey poo talk. Do you find it arousing?”

“It doesn’t do anything for me, except make me want to laugh my ass off,” chortled Donna. “Does it do anything for you?”

Benedict began to laugh. “Fuck no. I just felt so incredibly stupid uttering those words. How about: Erections need tending to or they soon flop.”

“Better. Now, shut up and let me finish my artwork!”

Donna sprayed cream around the base of his penis and began to lick it off in earnest.

“Bloody hell! That’s cold!” he exclaimed. “You just spray- painted cream on my knob!”

“It was around your knob,” corrected Donna around a mouthful of whipped cream. She leaned over and kissed him, making sure to part his lips and let some of the cream enter it.

“Yuck!” he giggled, swallowing the cream. “That was in your mouth!”

“You’re knob has also been in my mouth, and you didn’t say yuck.”

“I try not to think about that to be honest,” Benedict laughed, wiping his lips on the back of his hand.

Donna turned her attention to his chest, where she began to lick the melting cream off his nipples, making sure to suck each one the way he had done to her.

“Jesus. Fuck. That…oh my fucking God…so…so…so …fucking fantastic!”

Donna made her way down his body, making sure to be as slow and deliberate with her licking as he had been with her. His body was trembling with desire as she made her way south, enjoying his reactions. Finally, she got to his penis once again. The cream had melted and had run down onto his inner thighs.

_Now I know how she felt with the lube dripping out of her cunt that night in Cornwall. My kingdom for a couple of tissues or a flannel right now._

Donna dipped her finger in the cream and sucked it off. “Oh, dear. What a mess I made. You look very uncomfortable. Let me take care of this.” She smiled smugly as she bent down and began to lap up the cream off his pale skin.

“AHHHHHHHHHHHH!   AHHHHHHHHHH!   AHHHHHHH!”

Benedict’s thighs quivered as she persistently licked his sensitive inner thigh area. She noticed that his balls were swollen and had pulled up against his body. He wound his fists in the sheets and tugged as he groaned loudly.

_Okay. He’s getting close. I have to be careful. Too much of this and he’ll go off like a firecracker._

Benedict suddenly stiffened, released the sheets and tapped her shoulder hard. “STOP! PLEASE! I’m very close!”

Before Donna knew what had happened, Benedict had rolled her over onto her back and positioned himself in between her legs. He took the can and sprayed whipped cream along her inner thighs and covered her vulva.

“And now I’m going to eat you literally!” he purred, lifting her buttocks and dragging her so as he could easily reach her most sensitive areas with his mouth and tongue.

Donna looked down and watched as he licked the cream off of her vulva, and moved in between her legs to her thighs. She bucked slightly, which caused him to tighten his grip on her hips.

“Stop moving so much! Relax and close your eyes,” he commanded sharply as he firmly held her down. “Don’t you like what I’m doing?”

“Of course I do…it’s just so intense…”

“Brilliant! Just enjoy it and ride it out if you come.”

Benedict returned to his steady lapping and once he had licked her clean, he began to poke his tongue in between her wet folds, searching for her core. The tip of his tongue soon found its goal and he tapped against it incessantly, then alternated the tapping with gentle sucking.

“I’m going to come, Ben; but I want you inside me when I do.”

She felt him let go of her bottom and opened her eyes in time to see him quickly lurch across the bed to his nightstand.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting the lube before the mood is spoilt!”

Benedict threw open the drawer like a man possessed, causing it to come off its track and land on the floor, spilling the contents all over.

“Motherfucker!!!” he bellowed in frustration whilst leaning over the side of the bed, searching frantically for the tube of lube.

“Benedict, please come back here! I don’t need any lube, trust me on that one!” exclaimed Donna. _  
_

_Wow! And I get a bird’s eyes view of his glorious ass in all its plump glory. I need to get his attention and quick!_

Donna reached out and playfully patted his bottom. He turned towards her, his face a mask of frustration.

“I can’t find the lube! It must have rolled under the bloody bed.”

“I just told you I don’t need it. I would be the one to know if I need it, and I’m telling you that I don’t need it! Stop ruining the moment!”

“Give me a minute and stop being so damn impatient!” snarled Benedict as he turned back and once again hung over the side of the bed, groping the floor. “I need to find the lube, or it’ll hurt.”

“I’m so wet, I feel like I peed myself. I don’t need the God damn lube tonight!” _  
_

Donna once again reached out and this time she squeezed his bottom hard and kneaded it. She heard Benedict growl in annoyance as he reached behind him and blindly batted her hand away. _  
_

“Just give me a fucking minute…wait…I think I see it…no. Oh! So that’s where my bookmark went. It’s been an age since I last saw it! The one that looks like a strip of gold with my name engraved on it. You surely know the one.” _  
_

_He needs to stop with the searching already! We need to get down to business now! Maybe a little more whipped cream play will distract him and get him back on track._

Donna picked up the can of whipped cream and sprayed his butt cheeks as well as the backs of his thighs, causing his to stiffen and jump.

“What the fuck????” Benedict yelped as he lost his balance and plunged off the bed head first. “Jesus fucking Christ, Donna!”

Donna watched in horror as a surprised Benedict fell off the bed and onto the floor. She scooted over to the edge and gazed down at him, eyes wide. He had hit the floor and rolled over onto his back. He looked comical lying spread eagle amongst the contents of his nightstand drawer.

“Ooops!” she said with an apologetic smile. “I didn’t mean to startle you like that.”

Benedict glared back up at her. His face was a mask of what Donna interpreted as unbridled fury.

_Oh, oh. That was a bad idea. I thought I was being playful, but I guess not. He looks pissed off._

Benedict sat up and regarded her with a raised eyebrow. “Oh, so you still want to play, do you, Love?” he asked in a menacing voice, slowly crawling to the edge of the bed. “That wasn’t nice to catch me off guard like that.”

Donna barked a nervous laugh. “I was only being playful.”

“And you were,” he said, nodding to himself. “But I wasn’t ready to continue the game.”

“Sorry. Don’t be mad. We were having such a nice time, weren’t we?’

Benedict brushed himself off and stood up. Donna watched as he picked the smashed tube of lube off his whipped cream-covered bottom. The floor beneath him was soiled with a mixture of whipped cream and clear lubricating gel.

Donna tried to suppress a giggle. “Well, it looks like you found the lube after all!” She began to shake with laughter.

Benedict grabbed a handful of tissues and wiped the cream off his backside.

“Oh! Don’t do that! I was going to lick it off when you found the lube.”

“Bloody hell! The fucking tube split from my weight, and now I’ve got lube all over and in my bum.”

_That’s because he never bothers to screw the cap back on when we’re done using it. The tube didn’t split, his weight just forced the jelly out. However, this gives me an idea._

“Oooo…let’s not waste it! I read this article in Cosmo when getting my hair trimmed about …well, you know…I was thinking we could take advantage of your bottom being all prepped and try…” Donna stopped herself short.

_Think carefully about what you just offered to do, Donna. Do you honestly want to go there?_

Benedict stood over her as he wiped the gooey jelly off his hands. He stared at her with an intense curiosity she had never seen from him in the bedroom.

_On second thought, I don’t think I’m ready to go there. Oh, oh. Too late. He seems to be very interested in what I just implied we try. Look at his face. The idea does not turn him off. He did say very little turns him off. His dick suddenly perked up, too. I need to do more research and buy a finger cot before I enter uncharted territory.  
_

_Is she suggesting penetrating my anus with her finger and massaging my prostate? This can’t be happening. Donna would never, ever consider doing something like that. Tonight has been pretty wild for her as is._ _I’ve never had that done to me before, though Lord knows it’s one of my fantasies. I wonder if I would actually get enjoyment out of it. If she’s game, I sure as hell am, too. I’ll try almost anything once._

Benedict raised a quizzical eyebrow at her. Donna lowered her head down and pretended to study the sheets.

“I wasn’t really suggesting that we…you know,” she stopped short and looked at him under her eyelashes. “I was just kidding.” _  
_

_What was I thinking? Donna got carried away and realized what she said. She doesn’t seem comfortable with the idea right now. I’m not even sure I am completely on board with it; but I’m totes excited about the idea of it. I am so stiff right now…_

“I don’t think you were kidding at all,” retorted Benedict, switching off his bedside lamp. “I think you’re as curious about anal penetration as I am.”

Donna continued to study the sheets as if they were the most fascinating thing in the world. Then she finally looked up and met his icy blue gaze. His eyes were glittering feverishly in the semi-darkness of the room.

“Do you want me to?”

“Do you want to do it to me?”

“Not tonight. Another time we’ll give it a whirl.”

_Why do I suddenly feel immensely disappointed rather than a bit relieved? You’re such a dolt, Benedict! You wanted her to do it to you. Oh, my Donna has always been the Mistress of Cock Tease; and that’s something we need to change. I don’t like when she gets me aroused and then pull s back. I don’t fancy an episode of blue balls tonight._

Benedict frowned and shoved her back against the mattress. “You’re a cock tease, Donna Saint James! I’ve had enough play time for one evening!”

“What are you going to do?” She breathed. The brusque tone of his voice and his rougher demeanor had left her feeling strangely excited.

“I intend to shag you senseless!”

“Is that a threat or a promise?”

“I’ve had quite enough of your cheek for one night!”

“You haven’t paid any attention to my lower cheeks tonight.”

“You sassy girl…”

Before Donna could say a word, Benedict had abruptly shoved a pillow under her lower back and propped himself up on his forearms in between her legs. His eyes were two dark midnight blue pools of desire, and his chest was heaving as he drew deep, ragged breaths.

“Take me inside you!” he ordered. “Quick as you can before my dick shrinks to the size of a fucking baby carrot!”

_Baby carrot? I’m not going to let my mind go there right now. That will be sure to break the mood._

“Yes, sir!”

Donna reached out and guided him to her entrance, heart pounding and the blood rushing in her ears. She had never wanted him as much as she did at that very moment.   Benedict swallowed hard and paused momentarily before making the first thrust.

_Take it easy, Benedict. You don’t want to hurt her. Don’t take out your frustrations on the woman you love more than anything. Be a gentleman first and foremost._

“What are you waiting for? An invitation?” asked Donna impatiently tapping his buttocks. “I’m lying here with my legs spread waiting for you to fuck my brains out and…”

_That’s fucking it, Sweetheart! I’ve had it!_

“Your sassiness knows no bounds tonight! As you wish, Sweetheart! Brace yourself!”

Donna gritted her teeth as Benedict suddenly thrust completely into her rather than the slow, gentle way he normally eased himself inside her vagina. To her astonishment it did not hurt in the slightest. She noticed that he had positioned himself higher than usual. Before she had a chance to catch her breath, Benedict had begun to thrust in and out with a circular motion and with much more force than he usually did. The tip of his penis was rubbing up against her clit tantalizingly with each stroke. Donna wrapped her legs around his waist and rose her hips to grind against his public bone with each thrust in order to get as much friction as possible.

“Jesus, Ben…where did you learn to do this?” she panted.

“I read your Cosmo’s, too. Does it feel good?”

“Yes!   Can you do it harder?”

_Can I do it harder? Oh, yeah. No worries about that, Love._

Donna squeezed and kneaded his buttocks as he began to pick up the pace of his thrusts with unbridled enthusiasm. She felt light-headed as the waves of pleasure began to crest, then wash over her, causing the most delicious tingling sensations deep inside her groin area. A few more thrusts like that, and she knew she’d be on her way to an intense orgasm.

Benedict watched her face as he continued to thrust for all he was worth. Her face was contorted in pleasure, lips parted, eyes closed as her breathing grew more and more rapid as her arousal level increased. Suddenly, he felt her body tense underneath him and she squeezed his bum with reckless abandon. He looked down at where they were joined and felt a rush of tenderness, which threatened to overwhelm him.

_Now, is not the time to get all soppy, Benedict. Enjoy the lust!_

“OH FUCK ME BENEDICT!   AS HARD AS YOU CAN!” she screamed, erratically thrusting her hips against his.   “I NEED TO COME NOW….NOW….NOW….NOW….OOOOOOOOHHHHHHHH   YES…YES…YES…OH MY GOD!”

_Christ! How I love it when I make her scream like that….and now….ahhhhhhh…my turn!_

“AHHHH…such fucking bliss!”

Benedict felt her vaginal muscles begin to contract around his dick, triggering the start of his own climax. The penile contractions were exquisite yet almost too intense at the same time. His eyes involuntarily closed and he buried his head in the side of her neck, inhaling her sweet scent as he rode out his orgasm.

_This is nirvana…Christ…this is almost too much. I need to ride it out. I also don’t want it to end._

Donna had found the presence of mind to reach out and gently caress his balls as he ejaculated. His low, throaty moans of pleasure filled her ears, as she felt his warm semen fill her. Her orgasm had slowly subsided, and she was finally able to catch her breath. Her chest heaved underneath Benedict’s weight, as he had collapsed on top of her, completely spent from his exertions. She glanced over at the bedside clock.

_Holy cow! That was a quick one. I think we were just primed and ready to go after all that foreplay. Bossy Bedroom Benedict certainly was strutting his stuff tonight._

“Ah, such sweet release that,” Benedict murmured, carding his hands through her hair. “I so needed that.”

Donna ruffled his hair and kissed the curls at the nape of his neck. “I love you,” she whispered.

“Love you, too…I could stay just like this all night. Mmmm…it’s so nice being this close.”

“As much as I also enjoy it, I’m afraid my body is going to get numb from having your weight pressing down on me.”

Benedict sighed deeply. “If you insist then.”

“Yeah, I do. Off with you!”

Benedict reluctantly raised himself up and settled onto his side, facing her. He reached out and stroked her cheek tenderly with his fingertips. “That was an extraordinary shag.”

“Tonight was very different from what we usually do in bed. I got to see another side of you.”   She began to say something else and immediately stopped.

Benedict’s face clouded over briefly. “Something’s bothering you, Donna. Did you not enjoy what we did? You seem a bit…I don’t know…perturbed by what happened yes?”

“I enjoyed what we did very much. I’ve never played with food before in bed, and this was the first I’ve glimpsed of your…wilder…more dominant side.”

“Then why are you frowning if you enjoyed it? Did I do something to hurt you? Damn! I knew we should have used the fucking lube…”

_Am I frowning?_

“No, Ben Honey, not at all. I guess I’m just used to our love making being more…loving…gentle…more spiritual.”

_Spiritual? That’s a new one on me. However, I think I know what’s bothering her._

“You’re used to us taking our time in order to foster and experience that deep abiding love, which is a communion of sorts between us…that extraordinary and utterly lovely complex connection that we’ve developed and nurtured over the past several months, which serves to illustrate a complete expression of the love, commitment and need that we share and cherish.”

_Good gravy! What did he just say? And why am I suddenly visualizing my father shaking his head in bafflement? I can just hear him now: What in the hell did Cumberbatch just say, Donna?_

“In English please, Benedict.”

“To you the sex act is the ultimate expression of love – as it is for me. However, there are different kinds of sex: Comfort, playful, makeup, stress-relieving and the tender kind, which is that extraordinarily total immersion in and expression of love that you’re used to. Erm…you’re still frowning.”

“I’m still trying to follow you, Ben.”

_The father would say I’m being too wordy. Stop waffling and get to the point, Benedict._

“Tonight was all about having sex in order to release tension and just for the sheer fun of it. Sometimes we just need to get each other off so we can savour and enjoy the pure physical pleasure that only good sex can provide. No matter which type we choose to participate in, those deep-rooted feelings of love that we have for each other are still present behind the scenes.”

Donna pondered his words and slowly nodded her head.

“I did enjoy it, Benedict. I loved seeing that rougher, dominant side of you as well as the playful side. I found the whole interlude very sexy and extremely erotic. I don’t think I’ve ever climaxed that fast in my life during intercourse.”

“Well, the moon and the stars and the planets were all in perfect alignment tonight,” smiled Benedict.  

Donna snickered. “It’s more like you’re penis was in perfect alignment with my clit.”

“How about if we call your clit your ‘love button’?”

“Let’s not and say we did,” giggled Donna, rolling against him and giving him a tight hug.

“I really think you should reconsider, Darling. I could then say that I pressed your love button with my magic wand. Was that the name you fancied for my knob? Magic wand?”

Donna tickled his ribs and kissed his chin. “You’re being very silly tonight. Neither of us would be able to utter those words without cracking up, and you know it!”

Benedict kissed her forehead, then the tip of her nose. “I’m so over the moon that I could give you so much pleasure tonight. It means a lot to me.”

“I attribute that to your being such a skilled lover. You just keep getting better and better.”

“I thank you on behalf of my inflated ego. Things are better for you because you’ve learnt to relax and trust me, as well as being open to trying things like different positions and playing with Chantilly cream. I think you can safely drop that self-deprecating moniker, Vanessa Vanilla, that you’re so fond of using. You’ve become quite adventurous in bed.”

_It’s not true, but he’s so sweet to say that. I’m definitely better than I was, but I still have room for improvement. I do love that he’s so patient and understanding. He’s the best lover I’ve ever had._

“Is there any whipped cream left?”

“I sincerely doubt it. You used up the last of it when you decided to spray paint my bum,” he laughed.

“Can I interest you in some reheated hot chocolate, sans whipped cream?”

“Sounds brilliant. I’ll change the sheets while you fetch the drinks.”

 

 

Benedict and Donna sat side-by-side in bed, enjoying their hot chocolate, whilst watching the late news on the bedroom telly. They had both washed up and changed back into their nightclothes and were feeling very content.

“This is scrumptious hot chocolate,” declared Donna. “Mmmmm.”

“But is it yummy hot chocolate? That is the official proclamation a food critic uses when pleased with their beverage yes?”

Donna rolled her eyes at him and adjusted the down-filled duvet over her lap.                                                 

“Very funny.”

“I thought so.”

Donna drained the last of her hot chocolate and looked over at Benedict. He was holding his mug and intently watching the sports roundup. She tossed back the covers, got out of bed and held out her hand to him.

“I’m going to put the mugs in the dishwasher and brush my teeth.”

“Okay.”

“I need your mug.”

Benedict frowned at her outstretched hand. “I’m not done yet.”

It was then Benedict noticed the green message light blinking on Donna’s mobile from across the room.

_Hmmm…messages. I wonder if there are any from her parents about tonight._

“I’ll come back for it.”

“Wait!” Benedict finished the hot chocolate and handed over the mug.

_That will buy me time to check them out. She’s nutters with the rinsing off of the dishes and beakers before loading the dishwasher.   I’m sure she’ll finish tidying up the kitchen whilst she’s at it. Wait let me ensure it._

“I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“Okay. Just promise me you’ll leave the pot and measuring cups in the sink until morning,” He crinkled his nose at her and gave her that lop-sided smile that he knew she loved.

“Okay.”

_Hahaha! She’ll definitely do a tidy up now!  
_

Benedict tossed off the duvet and stopped as he was about to bound out of the bed.

_It’s wrong to read her messages, you tit. It’s being nosy and an invasion of her privacy. She’d be pissed as shit if she found out you do that. It’s best I just read my book whilst she’s gone.  
_

After reading two pages, Benedict’s eyes wandered across the room to the dresser. He could not see if the message indicator light on his mobile was on. _  
_

_Oh, shit. I forgot to check my own voice mail and text messages. I’d better take a look just in case someone was trying to reach me. It’s a lame excuse, Benedict. You know it is. You’re dying to read her messages, not your own._

Benedict got up and quickly crossed the room to the dresser where he had set his and Donna’s mobiles up to re-charge. His eyes were once again drawn to the blinking green light on hers. He quietly closed the door to the bedroom and picked up Donna’s mobile.

_Don’t do it, Benedict. Look what happened the last time. You saw that awful message from Antonia about birth control and avoiding an unwanted baby.  
_

He immediately put it down and sighed with annoyance at his behaviour. _  
_

_That’s the right thing to do…but who knows what you may find on here tonight.  
_

Benedict stood, tapping his fingers on the dresser as he grappled with his conscience.

_Practice some self-control, Benedict, and put the bloody thing back before you get into trouble._

He placed the mobile back on the dresser and went through his own messages instead. He was disappointed.

_Hmmm…just Dennis, Mark and Jimmy checking to see how tonight went. Oh, and here’s one from Rob and one from Tertius. I’m not in the mood to go through that again. I’m sure Adam filled the lads in by now. News travels fast in my circle of mates, whether I want it to or not.  
_

Benedict yawned and stretched.

_It’s almost time for the weather, but I don’t need to see it. I know what it’s going to be.  
_

However, the enticing green blinking light on Donna’s mobile beckoned to him once again. Before long, his hand slowly moved towards it as if it had a mind of its own.

_It takes her an age to brush her teeth and floss. She’ll certainly brush her hair because it’s mussed from playing around in bed. I have plenty of time for a quick peek._

Benedict swept his thumb over the screen to unlock Donna’s mobile. _  
_

_I could find something very interesting.  
_

He tapped the envelope icon for messages. _  
_

_I could also find something to infuriate me.  
_

_I think I’ll take my chances.  
_

There were seven text messages for Donna. He quickly opened each one. The first was from Carly:

**I’m so excited! We got 40 responses to your ad! There’s a nice variety to fill all the openings. The bookkeeper looks particularly promising. I’m going to email them back and set up interviews for this coming week. C**

_Bloody hell! Forty responses? I suppose uni students need extra cash. Interning is also an excellent way to get your foot in the door with the hope that it leads to a permanent job.  
_

The next one was from Colin Saint James. _  
_

_That’s the grandfather, who’s a huge fan of Mum.  
_

**Carly filled me in on your dinner. Don’t fret. You’ve travelled down this road before, so you’re a seasoned veteran when it comes to dealing with them. I have the utmost confidence that you can do it one last time. It will all work out. Looking forward to meeting your beau and even more to meeting the lovely Wanda! Love, GP xx**

_I’m liking the kindly old gent already. He’s on our side. I just hope he’s not a super weird fan like some of her male fans are – particularly the ones in his age group. It’s creepy as fuck.  
_

Benedict skipped over the next two from her girlfriends, who only wanted to know how the evening had gone. However, there was a string of messages that got his undivided attention as they were all from Wanda Ventham.

_Well, well, well. Look at all these text messages from Mum, and they’re all from tonight! Oh, I had a feeling this spying would pay off. Let’s see what Mum has to say:  
_

**Just heard from my friend, Judi Dench. She’s also at the Ivy Club having dinner.   She will most likely come over for a quick chat.  
**

_And true to form, yes, she did, Mum; and I’m certain she reported back to you once she got inside the cab for the ride home.  
_

**Just a reminder that all’s in place for tomorrow. We’ll have a quick drink here first before we head out to Kensington Gardens and the Orangery.  
**

_Mum does love her reminders, bless her. A quick drink? Yes, Mum. You’re bang on the money about that. Dad had better have those drinks mixed and ready to be downed so we can have a fast little chit chat and get the fuck out of there before something dreadful transpires.  
_

**This way we can all have some time to get acquainted.** _  
_

_Oh, that’s a stonker, Mum! You mean you’re most likely going to look for an opening to dust the floor with the dick of a father. I’m going to need more than one drink._ **  
**

**Please do try and get Ben here on time. I realize he can be quite the challenge though.  
**

_I love how Mum’s not shy about giving Donna instructions. She treats her as if she were in the inner family circle already._ **  
**

**It’s most likely a losing battle. You can only do so much with him, so I feel and share your frustration. As I’ve told you many times, I’ve been doing this a lot longer than you have! LOL!  
**

_How lovely! They’ve being discussing my ongoing time management problem - Many times. Hmmmmmmm. How interesting…when did all these discussions take place?  
_

**I find the aroma of frying bacon works best to rouse him.** _  
_

_Mum’s right about the frying bacon – works almost every time. Unless I’m especially knackered, then nothing will get me out of bed._ **  
**

**You may have other techniques that work on rousing him just as well.  
**

_Yes, Mum, she does. It’s called sexual arousal; and my Darling is quite adept at it. It works almost as well as the smell of frying bacon. Particularly should I already possess a stiffy upon waking.  
_

**BTW, I got the recipe for those luscious cinnamon rolls that we had at the BB. I’ll email it to you. I made a batch this morning, and they were ever so delicious! I think they were just as good as that morning we had them. Tim also agrees.  
**

_Cinnamon rolls? At the BB? What in the fuck is the BB? Oh, I know. They all met at the BB Bakery for a coffee and a chat about me it seems. So, they all had cinnamon rolls together at the BB one morning. How very, very lovely, bless them.  
_

**GTG. Just got a few text messages from Judi. My friends and I always exchange photos of our dinners when we go out. LOL  
**

_Bollocks! Judi sent you photos of Donna’s parents._ **  
**

**Benedict noticed a large gap in the time of the messages until the last one.  
**

_Hmmm…this is where Judi must have been filing her report of our dinner, complete with the bickering bits, I’m sure. Yep. The timeline is right. This is whilst we were having dinner. It starts when I got there and ends about the time we ordered pudding. Photos and a report! Well done, you, Judi. You’re a credit to your James Bond director.  
_

Benedict read the last message.

**Sorry for disappearing like that. There was a program Tim wanted me to watch with him on the telly.**

_Bullshit, Mum. You were too busy reading your live reports direct from the Ivy Club_.

**Lunch is good for Friday. Let’s meet at the usual. Tim can’t make it as he’s got a job. Being you said Ben also has a job, it will just be the two of us.  
**

_Oh Ho! What’s this I read? Lunch with Mum? The wanker parents leave Friday, so it looks like Donna and Mum are going to meet to hash over what happened. Seems like the invitation was also extended to Dad, but he can’t make it. What a shame that Donna’s been looking at the calendar I keep on the fridge, instead of the one I keep on my laptop. Little does she know that I haven’t updated the one on the fridge yet. I’m off Friday. I think I need to do a little investigating of my own, and my first assignment is to find out where the “usual” meeting place is.  
_

Benedict text chime sounded. He pondered as to whether or not he wanted to look, when he saw it was from Andrew Hutton, the director of _Van Gogh: Painted With Words._

_This one will be important. I wonder what he wants._

**Need to call a cast meeting for Friday at half noon at my office. Everyone is expected to attend. Thx. Andy  
**

_Well that fucks up my plans to spy on Mum and Donna on Friday._

Benedict returned to reading his mother’s last text message.

**We’ll see you all tomorrow. Looking forward to it! Wanda xo**

_Liar. You’re dreading this even more than I am, Mum. And what’s this nonsense with the kiss and hug after your name? You never, ever, signed a_ _text message like that to Olivia in the ten years we were together and you loved her to bits!   And I used to read all her messages, unbeknownst to her, so I know. My parents and the lovely Donna seem to know each other a lot better than they let on.  
_

The final message was from Antonia.

_Ah. Now, let’s see what she had to say. Do I really want to read this? Yes, I do._

**Sorry we weren’t up to talking more about tonight, Muffin. I want to set your mind at ease before you go to sleep. We don’t hate him, but we are going to have to get used to him.  
**

_They are going to have to get used to me? What in the fuck does that mean?_ **  
**

**Dad says his ears still ache from his talking so much.   I’m still not allowed to talk to him.  
**

_I talk too much? He did his share of talking! Fuck him. I do like to talk, but I don’t think I overdo it…do I?   Donna and Karon are fond of teasing me about waffling on and on…Hmmm…they may have a point. And who am I kidding? Karon’s not teasing. She fucking means it.  
_

**Give us tonight to digest everything, and I’m sure all will go well tomorrow. I promise you that Dad has no intention of starting anything unpleasant with his mother.  
**

_That’s fair. At least she’s going to sleep on it. Who knows or cares about Neil…I do. God damn! I hate that I care. I want them to like me – at least accept and be civil to me. Is that a lot to ask of them - to expect from them? I’m also relieved that Neil’s going to keep his word about not saying anything to Mum, but he never was the problem. It’s Mum. As Dad said, there’s not much I can do about it.  
_

Benedict quickly marked each text ‘unread’ and placed the mobile back on the dresser in the same spot he had originally put it. then he quickly climbed into bed and leaned back against the headboard with the latest book he was reading in hand. **  
**

“Miss me?” asked Donna as she entered the room and got into bed beside Benedict. She took the TV remote control andturned up the volume as the weather report came back on.

“Always,” replied Benedict. “I’m going to brush my teeth.”

Donna watched the weather and turned off the TV. The green blinking light on her cellphone caught her attention as she was about to hunker down under the covers.

 _OH! I’ve got messages!_ _Maybe Mom sent me something._

Donna eagerly jumped out of the bed and took a look to see what had come in. She began to read the messages, then suddenly stopped dead.

_Whoa hoa here...this message has already been opened, and I'm not the one who read it. Hmmm...somebody's been reading my messages and forgot to mark this one as unread.  I wonder who that could have been?  Damn you, Benedict!  You're so nosy!  Some day you're going to read something not meant for your eyes, and you're going to regret it._

Benedict had left the door open, so she could hear his electric toothbrush buzzing. This was followed by the sound of him spitting and gargling.

_I love how he keeps the doors open all the time. Nothing bothers him. Next, he’ll be peeing.  
_

Donna finished reading the messages and began to delete them, as Benedict came back into the room.

_I guess he didn’t have to pee._

“Anything interesting?” he asked, indicating the mobile with his head.

_Oh, yeah!  I found you've been busy reading my text messages once again._

“Carly said we got a great response to our ad, and she’s going to set up interviews as soon as possible.”

“Jolly good! Forty is definitely a lot.”

_I didn’t say how many.  Barrister Ben just slipped up and confirmed that he's been reading my messages._

“My Grandpa is looking forward to meeting you.”

“As am I. He’s really looking forward to meeting Mum. I’m sure she’ll get a kick out of meeting him as well.”

_I didn’t mention the meeting with Wanda. The only way he'd know that is from snooping in my messages._

“Your mom wanted to remind me about tomorrow and to make sure I get you there on time.”

“Does this mean I can plan on having bacon for breakfast then?”

Donna studied him with her hands on her hips. “You’ve been reading my messages, Benedict.”

_Fuck me!  The bacon comment tipped her off! She now has confirmation that I’ve been in her messages._

Benedict’s face went ashen.  “Erm…I…didn’t…”

“Don’t try and hide it. I know you have, and this isn’t the first time. You left one marked as read. You are a very _nosy_ man, Benedict Timothy Carlton Cumberbatch.”

Benedict cringed inwardly at her use of the word:  nosy.

_Bollocks! I thought I got them all._

“ _Curious_ ,” he said indignantly. “I was just curious. I’m also sorry. I had no right to read them.”

“You know what they say about curiosity killing the cat.”

“Thank heaven I’m not a bloody cat then!”

“If you want to know what my messages say, ask me the next time your curiosity is piqued, okay?”

Benedict nodded in agreement. “Fine. I apologize from the bottom of my heart, Muffin.”

Donna rolled her eyes. “Stop making fun of my childhood pet name.”

“I think your parents forget you’re not a child anymore. By the way, what kind of muffin are you supposed to be?”

Donna stopped and began to laugh. “You know, I have no idea!”

“Well, then. In the bakery of life, I fancy to think of you as a chocolate chip walnut muffin. Sweet, yet nutty at the same time.”

“Thanks, I think.”

“You’re welcome,” he smiled, crinkling his nose at her.

“Since you’ve been reading all my messages, then you know what my mother said as well.”

“I didn’t get a chance to real _all_ your messages. I just read Carly’s and your Granddad’s…”

_Stop trying to bullshit me, Benedict.  I know you better than you think.  You read each and every message on that phone._

Donna stared him down.

“And one from my mother.”

_I’m going straight to hell for lying._

Donna continued to stare him down.

“Okay, then! I read all of them."

"That's better.  Confession is good for the soul."

"Do I _really_ talk too much?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t mean to. I just love to talk is all.”

“My father thinks you talk too much because you like the sound of your own voice and that you like to impress people by showing off your large vocabulary.”

“I’ve spent many years in school studying vocabulary. Why shouldn’t I bloody well use what I’ve learnt?”

“You make a valid point. Just try not to be so over the top with it.”

Benedict and Donna got into bed and settled down for the night. Benedict was lying on his back and Donna was lying on her side, facing him.

“Good night, Donna. I love you.”

“Good night, Ben. I love you, too.”

Benedict stretched out his hand to switch off the lamp, but stopped. Instead he rolled over onto his side and smiled at Donna, crinkling his nose at her.

_Boy, there’s been a lot of nose crinkling going on tonight. Now, what?_

“I was just thinking. You and mum sure have spent a lot of time together on the phone or is there something you’re not telling me?”

_And now I know why. He’s definitely suspicious._

“Oh, Benedict! You really are in Barrister Ben mode tonight!” chided Donna. “I haven’t spent that much time with your parents. When have I had a large chunk of time to spend with them? Now, court has been recessed for the remainder of the night!”

They kissed and Benedict rolled over onto his back. He switched off the lamp, plunging the room into total darkness, except for the glow of the bathroom nightlight coming from the hallway. Benedict lie there, mulling over the text messages in his mind. Soon his mind drifted to the Sunday lunch at his parents and the weekend of his birthday. It was then the answer came to Benedict Cumberbatch as clear as a crystal.

 _Mum wasn’t talking about the BB bakery. She was referring to when we were all staying at the Blackberry Bramble Inn,_ thought Benedict, trying to decipher Donna’s face in the darkness. _Why didn’t I see that before? That crap about meeting in the hallway and the tampons was complete and utter bullshit. That would certainly explain why Mum and Dad never asked Donna any questions about herself. Hell, they never even asked me any questions about her. I was always the one to offer information about her. They never asked because they already knew everything there was to know. I was gone filming that whole morning, so there was plenty of time for them to get together for a chat. The next question is: Why go through such pains to hide it from me? I want nothing more than for them to get along and get acquainted. As they say in Hamlet: Something’s rotten in the State of Denmark._

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Anyone seen NT Live Hamlet? I did and enjoyed it very much. 
> 
> 2\. I wanted to experiment and give Benedict and Donna a little bit of a wilder ride in bed. I was happy with the result and will be further exploring their more adventurous sides as time goes on. Particularly, with Benedict, who I see as having a wild streak in bed.


	106. Chapter 106

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Cumberbatches Meet the Saint James Family – Part 1. 
> 
> Note: I’ll be using ************ to indicate things happening at the same time.

 

Timothy Carlton entered the kitchen Sunday morning to find his wife wiping the tall glasses they used for Pimms cocktails with a clean tea towel. He kissed Wanda on the cheek and retrieved his customary glass of orange juice that she had left to chill for him in the refrigerator.

“If I didn’t know better, I could swear I left you here wiping the imaginary lint out of the glasses last night. Please don’t tell me you got up early to wash them again.”

Wanda met his gaze and went back to wiping the glasses with a guilty expression on her pretty face. Timothy sipped his juice and poured himself a beaker of hot coffee.

“Mmmm…this is fresh-squeezed juice. Do my eyes deceive me or are those just-baked blueberry muffins on the cooling rack? My, you have been a busy bee this morning.”

_My darling wife is in quite the tizzy this morning, bless her. Re-washing the glassware, baking muffins from scratch, squeezing oranges for juice…I’m sure she’s dusted the furniture in the lounge again and cleaned the loo once more for good measure._

“I wanted to make you something special is all.”

“I really hope you didn’t bother with churning the butter, too. The people at Anchor make perfectly fine butter.”

“Making my husband a nice breakfast has never been a chore.”

Timothy added milk and sugar to his coffee, stirred briskly and took a sip. He smacked his lips in satisfaction.

“Mmmm…can I safely assume that you also got up extra early in order to personally grind the coffee beans for your adoring husband’s breakfast then?”

Wanda put down the glass and threw up her hands in mock surrender.

“I had trouble falling back to sleep after you woke me last night to fill me in on your chat with Ben. I was drifting on and off, until I realized that restful sleep wasn’t to be.”

“You were in a fitful sleep that. God knows you kept rolling into me. At first, I thought you were making a pass and fancied a shag, but when you began to snore I immediately realized that wasn’t in the cards,” quipped Timothy as he selected one of the muffins and put it on a plate.

“You should have said something, Tim. A good shag would have relaxed both of us.”

“I require advance notice of a couple of hours these days as you well know. Had I known you’d be up to it, I’d had taken one of my little blue pills.”

“I was up and down all night.”

 “So was I as it turned out. It’s a pity I need that damn pill to achieve staying power.”

“That little blue pill is worth every quid!” smiled Wanda with a saucy wink. “It gives you the renewed stamina of a twenty year old.”

“You didn’t know me when I was twenty!” Timothy roared with laughter. “You have no idea how randy I may or may not have been.”

Wanda giggled. “Based on past performance, I have every reason to believe you were quite the randy one in your prime…and you still are.”

“Compliments like that will only serve to get you laid, my Darling,” said Timothy waggling his eyebrows suggestively at her.

Wanda brought the butter dish to the table and sat opposite Timothy, who had taken his customary seat at the table. She watched as he split open the still-warm muffin. The steam wafted up, and he inhaled the sweet scent of the plump berries.

 “Did you eat?”

“I don’t have an appetite.”

Timothy pushed his plate towards her. “That’s bullshit, Pet. You can always eat. I’ll get you some coffee.”

“Thank you. They do smell good,” said Wanda as she generously buttered both halves of the muffin. “This is the same recipe Donna uses at Carldonn.” She paused to take a large bite. “Mmm...these taste even better than they smell. Well done me.”

Timothy placed a beaker of coffee in front of her and returned to peruse the muffins. “When did you finally get up then?”

“I realized around half four that sleep was going to allude me, so I tidied up the flat a bit more, showered, got dressed and made breakfast. The glasses still looked linty to me, but I didn’t wash them.”

Timothy returned to the table with another muffin for himself, which he split and buttered.

“For fucks sake, Wanda! It’s only Donna’s parents coming for a get acquainted drink and nibbles.”

“You forgot the inevitable row,” she snorted.

“I told you last night Ben said Neil Saint James isn’t looking to bring up the past. He wants to start fresh and move forward. We agreed that that was the best approach and that you would remain the lady at all times.”

“Unless provoked. Then you said I could hit him with both barrels.”

“He’s not going to provoke you, Pet.”

“I’m going to take the wait and see approach,” sniffed Wanda. “If he doesn’t bring it up, then I won’t. If he does, then may God have mercy on his sarcastic soul.”

 

*************************************************************

 

Benedict Cumberbatch stood at his stove, frying bacon in a cast iron skillet whilst listening to David Bowie croon "Rebel, Rebel" on his new CD player. Unable to sleep, he had gotten up early and gone for a run on the Heath. On the way back to his flat, Benedict had stopped at Gail’s Bakery to buy some of their cinnamon rolls in addition to two ciabatta rolls. As luck would have it, the cinnamon rolls had just come out of the oven and were still hot. The idea of surprising Donna with an impromptu home-cooked breakfast had come to him during his run.

_Let’s see, the bacon is nice and crispy just the way Donna fancies it. I’ve got the tomato-bacon marmalade and lest not I forget those delicious cinnamon rolls.  
_

The tea timer pinged, indicating that the pot of English Breakfast had finished brewing to the desired strength.   Benedict removed the strainer basket and set the Union Jack teapot on a trivet on the dining table. Two glasses containing a mixture of orange and cranberry juice had already been placed on the table, in addition to a basket holding the decadent cinnamon rolls, which he had covered with a cloth napkin to keep warm.

_Hmmm…it’s almost nine. Donna never sleeps this late that I know of. This is quite unlike her. I dearly hate to have to wake her; but she’s going to need time to shower and get dressed so we’re not late getting to Kensington. I’ll give her another ten minutes.  
_

Benedict sliced the ciabatta rolls and spread a thick layer of the tomato-bacon marmalade on one of the cut sides. He then layered the cooked bacon slices on top of the marmalade and topped it with the other half of the roll. After cutting each sandwich in half, he arranged them on two plates alongside some red and green grapes and sliced strawberries. Satisfied with the presentation, he brought them to the table. Benedict paused to gaze out at the view of the Heath and the London skyline beyond it. He had encountered quite a few people flying kites that morning during his run amongst the usual bike riders, dog walkers, hikers, lovers out for a stroll and families in search of the perfect spot for a picnic.

_I dread the day when I have to leave this flat. I love it so – the location, the view; but it definitely is too small to raise a family in. Especially since I want us to have at least four children._

“Son of a bitch!” Exclaimed Donna’s muffled voice from the bedroom.

_Jolly good, she’s up. No need to wake her then._

“I can’t believe this!”

_Donna definitely sounds distressed. I hope she’s alright._

Benedict heard the door to his bedroom open with a bang, and Donna came rushing into the lounge as she put on her robe and belted it. Her hair was disheveled from sleep, and she appeared agitated. Regardless, he felt a couple of butterflies flutter inside his stomach and couldn’t help but beam at the sight of her.

“Good Morning, Darling! Did you sleep well?”

“It’s eight forty-five! The alarm didn’t go off!”

_Oh, dear. I guess I should take that as a ‘no then._

“That’s because I switched if off.”

“Why would you do that? You know how anal I am about being late!”

_No one knows better than I do! Hahaha!_

“You’re not going to be late, Love. We don't have to be in Kensington until half eleven. You’ve got plenty of time to shower and have a proper breakfast.”

_Not here, I don't, Benedict.  I've got to breakfast with the Neil and Toni Show this morning._

“Unfortunately, I've got tons of shit to do this morning, and I haven’t even showered.”

“You look clean to me. Just throw on some clothes and tie your hair back.”

Donna glared at him, hands on hips.   _Why am I not surprised? He doesn’t look like he’s showered yet. He’s still wearing his running clothe, and his hair is damp from sweat. I can tell by the ringlets._

_I knew as soon as the words left my mouth that it was a mistake. I think I’ll just shut up, turn on my mouth filter and pour the motherfucking tea._

“That is not an option! I _have_ to shower. Wait. What did you mean by tying my hair back? Does it look greasy?” Donna demanded, crossing the room to inspect it in the mirror that hung on the wall in the foyer.

_Oh, fuck me. She’s in a strop. I didn’t mean anything by it. I was only suggesting how she could save time.  
_

“You’re the one who always tells me that when your hair looks less than perfect, which it never does to me, that tying it back makes it look…”

_Be careful as to what word you choose here, Benedict. The wrong one will only serve to irritate her even more than she already is. She always says clean, but I sense that’s not what she wants to hear this morning._

“…more…erm…organized…”

Donna turned and frowned at him. “Organized? What an odd choice of words!”

_Not odd, Love. Dumb. That was a dumb choice of words. Ah, let’s see if I can explain my way out of this one._

“Yeah, yeah… what I meant to say is that I find your hair looks very elegant and chic when you comb it back and catch it in one of those elastic thingeys.”

_That sounded pretty good, Benedict. Not bad for off the cuff so early in the morning. Donna seems to be okay with that explanation. Now, I need to just shut up and do the washing up and see if she’s going to rant._

“You mean when I put my hair up in a ponytail with an elastic band.”

Benedict nodded. “Exactly. That. Sometimes you wind it around like a Chelsea bun.”

“A Chelsea bun?” Donna blinked and shook her head. “I’m thinking you meant when I wind it into a chignon at the nape of my neck or do you mean like Princess Leia wore her hair in _Star Wars_?”

Benedict was relieved to see a slight smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, which showed she was clearly amused with his comment.

_I don’t really know what in the hell I meant. I’m just waffling away here, trying to prevent further pissing her off. Pony tail, chignon, bun - schmun. What the fuck do I know? I just wash mine, let it air dry most of the time and go on my merry way.  
_

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck. He smiled and crinkled his nose at her.   “Erm, I’m not completely sure…I’m not that well versed in women’s hair styles, Darling.”

Donna snapped her fingers as an idea came to her.

“Oh, like this?”

She demonstrated by gathering up her hair on top of her head and wound it so it looked like a top knot with a few soft tendrils framing her face.

“Yes. That one is rather nice. I think it looks very sexy like that.”

“I usually only wear it like this when I’m cleaning or in the bathtub. It’s called a messy bun.”

“I would have thought your goal was not to look messy.”

Donna rolled her eyes. “And it still is. That’s what the style is called.   Call it romantically disheveled if you prefer.”

_I’m not going to call it anything. I’m going to shut up and eat my bacon bap now._

Donna considered her reflection in the mirror. “It’s fine for staying indoors, but I prefer a more groomed look when I have somewhere to go.”

_Okay. This further proves that I know shit about women’s hair styles. She done told me._

“Why didn’t you wake me earlier?” Donna groaned. “I can’t believe I slept this late!”

_Well you did, it was my fault; and you need to come to terms with it!_

Benedict huffed with mild annoyance.   He took a deep breath and summoned all his patience.

“Because after last night you were beyond knackered and kept having bad dreams. You started to settle down towards morning, so I thought you could have used the rest. That’s why I turned off the alarm. I had every intention of coming to wake you when I heard you get up.”

_That was very kind and considerate of him, Donna. The man truly cares about your health and well-being as much as you care about his._

“Thank you, Ben. That was very sweet of you to want me to get more rest.”

“You’re welcome. Now that the wake up time has been sorted, come over here and bid me a proper good morning,” he demanded, holding his arms open to her with a sly grin.

“One big good morning hug and kiss coming right up!”

“I must warn you though that I haven’t had time to shower yet. I was out for my run and got a tad sweaty.”

“Oh, I’ll take my chances,” Donna giggled as she joined him in the kitchen.   They embraced and kissed.

_Oh, he definitely didn’t shower yet. I can smell the dried sweat, and his hair is still damp with it. And I just woke up and didn’t brush my teeth yet. Though I do like that new toothpaste he switched to. It seems to prevent the worst of morning breath.  
_

“How did you know I was having bad dreams, Benedict?”

“I could tell by the way you were moaning in your sleep. It wasn’t the same moaning you do when we’re making love. That’s totally different.”

Donna raised a quizzical eyebrow at him. “Really?”

Benedict then proceeded to imitate her doing the two different moans. First, he threw his head back, shut his eyes and parted his lips.

“Oh, Benedict…Oh, oh, Ben Honey…I love you so.”

_Holy cow! Do I really sound like that? I guess so. He’s so good at imitations, it’s scary. It’s also arousing as heck.  
_

Benedict paused and gave her a smug smile. “That was the one you do when we’re shagging.”

“I think I could have figured that one out,” giggled Donna.

“Now, this is how you sound when you’re having a nightmare.”

He threw his head back, closed his eyes and turned his head from side-to-side as he frowned.

“Noooo….nooooo…please don’t…..leave me, Ben.”

_Jeez Louise! The break up dream at the Orangery again!_

He stopped and grinned cheekily at her.

“Shall I do the sexy moan again to make sure you can tell the difference?”

Donna raised a hand as she attempted to stifle a laugh and failed. “I get it. You happen to be right, too. I did have a lousy night’s sleep. I kept dreaming about today and everything that can go wrong.”

“Why do you think I was up so early? We must have been having the same dream,” chuckled Benedict bitterly. “To sleep, perchance to dream...but not the kind of dream I was having. I dreamt I actually decked your father in the middle of the Orangery.”

“I was dreaming that there was a tremendous argument between our parents, and you broke up with me in the lobby of the Orangery right after we had tea.”

"Perhaps that's a bad omen, and we shouldn't take tea at the Orangery then," mused Benedict.

"Benedict!  Don't say such things!"

Benedict snickered.  "Blimey! I didn't know you were into that superstitious rubbish."

Donna sniffed.  "I'm not really."

“The important thing is they were only bad dreams.”

“Thank God!"

"Shall I knock on some wood then? That way it will ensure nothing bad will happen."

"You're such a smart ass.  Stop making fun at me!"

"I have to poke fun at somebody, and you're the only one here at the moment; so poke I must."

"Seriously, what are we going to do if they start arguing, Ben?”

“We will deal with whatever happens, Donna, as it happens. We can’t make ourselves sick over speculating about what may or may not happen later today. It’s not healthy. Sit down; and I’ll pour you some tea. I even broke down and made you decaf.”

_Is he kidding? I don’t have time for a cup of eat and a chat! Mom and Dad will be expecting me to have breakfast with them. I bet there are pissed off by now. I should have been there already._

Donna hesitated. “I d love nothing more than a cup of tea right now; but I _really_ need to shower. I should have just enough time to get dressed and make it to my place in time for a quick bite with my parents before we head out to Kensington.”

_Hold it. Did she just say she’s going to go all the way to Blackfriars in order to have a cuppa with the parents?   After I went through all this trouble to make her something special? I think not. You’re staying right here, Sweetheart.  
_

“Last night I distinctly recall that we told them we would meet them at the High Street Kensington tube station,” reminded Benedict. “There was no mention of having breakfast with them first. Perhaps I missed something then?”

“No, you didn’t miss anything; but they still expect me to come over for breakfast."

"Was my invitation lost in the mail?  I don't recall being asked to..."

"That's because you weren't."

"Ah, I see," said Benedict, tapping his upper lip.  "If I'm not there, then they'll have an opportunity to talk about me and what happened last night."

"Don't feel bad, but I wasn't formally invited either..."

"I don't feel slighted in the least, Donna.  I'm actually relieved as fuck because I seriously don't think I fancy having another round of questioning this early in the day."Benedict held up the plate of crispy bacon and mimed that he was pushing the fragrance towards her.  "No formal invite, means they're not expecting you.  Come sit and have some tea."

"Oh, yes, they are.  You don't know them like I do!  They don't need to issue a formal invitation.  They expect me to show up."

"I think you should dare to be different and stay here with me. It'll give them something to discuss.  How the worthless dick actor boyfriend kept you from them."

"I thought we put the lid on last night."

"We did sort it out.  My apologies."

"I’ll be back before you even miss me.  I'll just shower real quick, throw on a pair of jeans and go over there for a bite. Then I’ll come straight back here afterwards to get dressed. That way you and I can go to Kensington together.”

_That made absolutely no sense at all. It just made my head spin. What the fuck?_

“Donna, that’s crackers to rush around like a loon so you can go across town for half an hour just so you can come back here again. It doesn’t make any sense,” scoffed Benedict. “Besides it’s Sunday, and the tube service isn’t as frequent as it is during the week.”

_Hmmm…my honey does make a point. But Mom and Dad will not be happy. Benedict was right when he said they will want to discuss what happened last night at the Ivy Club without him hanging around. If only he hadn’t turned off the alarm, I would have had plenty of time to go home.  
_

“You’re right. I’ll get dressed here and go with my parents to Kensington. This way neither of us has to rush.”

_Christ! She’s just not getting it. I need to straighten her out without this escalating into a row.  
_

“You’ve only been to my parents’ home once,” pointed out Benedict. “Those streets off the High Street can be tricky to navigate.”

_No, Ben. I’ve been there two other times that you don’t know about when we were discussing the plan. Believe me, I know the way.  
_

“There’s no need to worry, Honey. I’ve got an excellent sense of direction and memory - not to mention the GPS that's downloaded on my phone, which is a wonderful thing. You don’t have to meet us at the tube station, I know my way from there. I go down Kensington High Street, past the Royal Garden Hotel to Kensington Court, then I make a right and their street is right there. It’s the four-story, white mews house on the corner with the pretty flower boxes and balcony.” _  
_

_Do you now? Hmmmm…how interesting. Donna certainly knows the way after only one visit – and we took my car. She never walked there from the tube station. I wonder if she’s been to Mum and Dad’s since that Sunday lunch.  
_

“We never went to my parents’ from the tube station. I drove that time.”

“We drove past the tube station. I remember.”

_No, you don’t, Sweetheart. You would have no idea which way to go when you come up out of the station unless you looked it up on line, which you didn’t. Don’t bullshit me, Donna. Something’s not right.  
_

“So sorry, Love; but you remember it wrong then. The way I go with the car doesn’t go past the tube station. I try to avoid staying on the High Street due to traffic congestion.”

_Barrister Ben is up early today. I’ll just run with it. It’s safer than bickering with him. He always wins, damn him!_

“I guess I was wrong. Thanks for correcting me. Now, off I go to shower. My parents will have a fit if I’m late.”

“You’re not going to be late, because you’re not going,” said Benedict firmly, blocking her way. “That’s utterly ridiculous! You’re going to sit your glorious bum down and enjoy a proper breakfast with me. Then we’ll both use the shower. We can wash each other’s hair – amongst other things,” He winked suggestively at her.

“Ummm…with all due respect, Benedict, I don’t think you have the right to tell me what I can and can’t do. I mean…”

Donna had rounded the breakfast bar and entered the dining area. She had not noticed that the table had been set for two. There were glasses of the cranberry orange juice already set out along with a tiny bowl, made for dipping sauces that held her vitamin and birth control pill.

_I smell cinnamon. How did I manage to miss that? Benedict made me breakfast. He even remembered my vitamin and birth control pill._

Benedict pulled out her chair and indicated she should sit down at her place with a wave of his hand.

“This morning’s offering is bacon baps with tomato-bacon marmalade on freshly baked ciabatta rolls,” he announced proudly. “Properly brewed decaf English breakfast tea and if you’re a good girl and clean your plate, I have a special treat for you.”

_Oh my gosh! Those look so good. How thoughtful of him to make this for me._

“You made this for me?”

Benedict nodded and sat perpendicular to her. “I got up, went for my run and stopped at Gail’s on the way back.”

“I really shouldn’t. They’re going to be angry.”

“I don’t give a shit if they’re angry or not. They’ve caused enough stress, and we need to start the day leisurely and quietly. There will be plenty of time for a fuss later.”

Benedict got up and retrieved his cordless land line. He held out the receiver to Donna.“Time to get it over with. Call them and tell them you’ve decided to eat with me this morning.”

Donna looked hesitantly at the phone and then she looked down at the table with the breakfast spread before her. The aroma of the bacon filled her nose and caused her stomach to growl.   She started to punch in her phone number but suddenly aborted the call and put the receiver down on the table. Benedict could see that she was obviously upset.

“I can’t do it, Ben.”

He reached out and took her hand in his, rubbing the back of it with his thumb. “Don’t be silly. Of course you can.”

“You don’t understand…”

Benedict let go of her hand and rubbed the back of his neck. He bit his lower lip.

“Oh, I understand more than you think I do, Darling. There is an awful lot that I can relate to. You haven’t spent all that much time with Mum yet, but let me assure you that she can be every bit as intimidating and annoying as your parents can be.”

_I know, Ben, I know. Wanda has shown the potential to be a real bulldozer. I’ve seen her in action. I picked up on a lot during that Sunday lunch and the subsequent time that I've spent with her since. However, no one can hold a candle to Mom and Dad.  
_

“Your parents aren’t anywhere near as bad as mine can be – not even at their worst. You can never hope to understand about them.”

“I most certainly do understand, Love. I got to see the – what is that phrase you all use when referring to them?”

“The Neil and Toni Show.”

“Well, I got to see the Neil and Toni Show in action last night; and it wasn’t pretty. You can’t allow them to intimidate you like that, Donna. You’re almost thirty years old with a fantastic career and in a serious relationship. I’ve seen you be assertive and take charge of your life. However, the minute they arrive, you start to fall apart.”

“I know and you’re right. I just wish I could be more like you. I tend to regress whenever they’re around. The same thing happens to Carly. My brother, Kenny, is much better at standing up to them.”

“I think it’s high time you started to act like an adult around them, Donna.”

“I know, and you’re right. However, I did assert myself a few times last night.”

“And you were brilliant at it. I had high hopes for you last night. You began to show real promise in standing up to them.”

“I think I was feeling brave because you were there,” sighed Donna.

“You need to stand up for yourself all the time, not only when I’m around. For fucks sake - you’re a grown woman, _Muffin_.”

“Please stop calling me that. It brings me back to when I was a child. It’s okay when they call me that, but when you do it – it’s mocking them.”

“You don’t hear my parents calling me anything soppy like sticky bun for fucks sake. Although last night both of my buns were quite sticky.”

Donna nearly choked with laughter at his words.

“Are you alright?”

“Jesus, Benedict. Warn me when you’re going to say something like that.”

“Sorry. So you’re staying here then?”

Donna nodded as she took her pills and washed them down with the juice.

Benedict raised an eyebrow at her. “You’re absolutely sure yes? I don’t want you to turn around and say I cajoled you into staying.”

“Yes, I’m staying. To run around like that _would_ be crazy. Besides, I could never resist bacon for breakfast and your English Breakfast tea.”

Donna took a bite of the breakfast sandwich as Benedict poured them both tea to which he added two cubes of demerara sugar.

“Jolly good. However, you do owe them the courtesy of a call.”

“Jeez. You’re right, of course; but I’m freaking dreading it.”

Benedict picked up the cordless phone and once again handed it to Donna.

“Go on then. Get it the fuck over with so we can…take our shower.”

Donna stared at the phone as if it were a hot poker in her hand. She began to punch in her number and stopped. Then she smiled at him as an idea came to her.

“I know! I’ll send them a text!”

“Why on earth would you send them a bloody text? They may not see it straight away.”

“If I send a text, I won’t leave myself open to one of my mother’s cross examinations.”

“I can’t believe you’re afraid of your parents!” Benedict muttered.

“Believe it. I made up my mind. I’m sending a text,” declared Donna as she got up to retrieve her cellphone. “I have to do what’s works for me.”

“And I have to do what works for _us_!” Benedict reached out and pulled her back down onto the chair. “Sit down, please, and eat your bap.”

“You know you’ve done that twice in the past twenty-four hours!”

“Yes, and I'll do it again if the situation warrants it. Now, would you please ring them and get it the fuck over with.”

Donna met Benedict’s icy blue gaze and held it for several seconds before putting her head down. “I need to psyche myself first.”

“Oh, for fucks sake!” growled Benedict in frustration. “Give me that motherfucking phone. I’ll handle it!”

“No…this is something I have to do, and I’ll do it…soon.”

“I’ll do it soon,” he mimicked her. “You have no intention of calling them, _Sweetheart_.”

_That was the sarcastic version of Sweetheart. The man also knows me well._

“I’m just working up the courage,” huffed Donna.

“Please don’t bullshit me, Donna. Give me more credit than that, _please_. You’re waffling every bit as badly as I do when I don’t want to do something – and that in itself speaks volumes.”

Benedict angrily punched in the number for Donna’s landline. Colin Saint James answered after four rings.

**_“Cheers! Donna Saint James’ residence.”_ **

Benedict covered the mouthpiece. “It’s your granddad. See, there was nothing to fret about.”

_That’s what you think. He’ll have to pass the phone over to Mom or Dad as soon as they get wind of who Grandpa’s talking to._

“Yeah…um…hello Mr. Saint James, this is Benedict Cumberbatch.”

There was a pause, and then Colin began to speak in a low voice.

**_“Oh, yes, Donna’s beau. Good day to you!”_ **

_I bet the old boy doesn’t want the wanker parents to know who he’s talking to. He knows their game. I love it.  
_

Benedict covered the mouthpiece. “He’s practically whispering.”

“That means he doesn’t want Mom and Dad to overhear who he’s talking to. I’ll give Grandpa an ‘A’ for effort; but one of them will come over to investigate. Just steel yourself for the onslaught.”

“Good day to you, also.”

**_“Is everything ship shape for today then? Is your lovely mother in good health I trust?”_ **

_Christ! He’s worried that Mum might be ill._

“Yeah, yeah. Everything is fine. Mum’s hale and hearty and very much looking forward to meeting everyone.”

_And thus the lies begin. She’s dreading it as much as I am…and Donna is…and Dad is…hell – the Granddad is the only one who isn’t dreading today.  
_

**_“Well, that’s just splendid then.”_ **

“Erm…Mr. Saint James…”

**_“Let’s not stand on ceremony. I’m Colin.”_ **

“Well, Colin. I’m ringing on behalf of Donna to let you know that we’re just running a bit late over here; so she won’t be stopping by before we meet up. If you’d be kind enough to pass the message onto Neil and Toni, I’d greatly appreciate it.”

Colin chuckled deeply. **_“That’s quite alright. I wouldn’t fancy talking to them either. Tell Donna to consider the message passed.”_**

"There.  It's all sorted.  He'll tell them.  No problem," said Benedict, covering the mouthpiece. 

Donna felt guilty at Benedict's words. _I should be ashamed of myself for making him fight my battles for me.  I really need to stop being such a wimp. I’m the one who should deliver the news, not Benedict. It is Grandpa, which makes it so much easier! He never judges me._

Donna poked Benedict’s arm and motioned that he should hand the phone to her. Benedict rolled his eyes at her, as he covered the mouthpiece again.

“Sure, now you want to talk. After I’ve gone and done the hard part,” he handed the phone over to her.

“Hi Grandpa!   It wasn’t worth it for me to travel back and forth on the tube just to have breakfast; so I decided to stay here with Benedict in Hampstead. We’ll meet you all as planned right outside the Kensington High Street Tube station. I know Mom and Dad aren’t going to be happy, but it didn’t make sense.”

**_“No, it didn’t. The whole thing strikes me as daft with you running back and forth every day as is like a chicken without a head. Stay with your beau and enjoy some quality time together. Your parents are perfectly capable of eating breakfast without you, as they've demonstrated many times over since you've moved over here. Besides Steve and Carly came up with some salt beef bagels along with news of a job offer your brother-in-law just received.”_ **

“Steve’s had a job offer?”

Benedict’s ears perked up at Donna’s words.   _Brilliant!  He's getting that job here! that he wanted._

**_“One of the doctors associated with the Hospital for Special Surgery in New York has offered Steve a position with their practice.”  
_ **

“That would mean Carly has to move back to New York permanently,” said Donna in a small voice.

**_“That it does. The hospital is fairly close to your townhouse as you know.  He'd only have to walk over a couple of avenues.”_ **

_Hmmm...doesn't sound like it was the offer I thought it was.  This one is in the States. Donna looks as if her heart just cracked. The last thing she wants is for Carly to move back to New York. I’m fairly confident that Steve won’t accept it,_ thought Benedict. _Not after our last conversation. Steve was actively campaigning for a permanent position here.  
_

**_“However, something tells me by the way Steve’s been talking, that he’s not going to accept the offer to return to New York. He told us he’s received another offer from the doctor he’s working with here, which he also wants to consider.”_ **

Benedict watched as Donna’s face softened. “That’s good news. Then they can stay here.”

_Ah, Steve must have received a counter offer to stay here. Well done him._

“ ** _So, as you can probably imagine, you won’t be missed much. They don’t even realize I’m having a chat with you right now because they are so preoccupied with dispensing advice to Steve, the poor sod.”_**

“I’m not so sure about that, Grandpa,” giggled Donna. “I bet Mom and Dad have somehow managed to notice my absence and have been asking about me. I’m also willing to bet that they probably called my cellphone already ten times to see what’s become of me.”

Colin chuckled. **_“It was only five times. It’s also a good thing they don’t have your beau’s number so they can’t ring him as well. Not to worry, I’ll tell them your whereabouts after we ring off.”_**

“You’re the best, Grandpa! I love you!” ** _  
_**

**_“We’ll see you later then, Love. I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to meeting Wanda Ventham in the flesh. I could barely sleep last night.”_ **

“It seems there was a lot of sleeplessness going around last night,” observed Donna, winking at Benedict. “Thanks again, Grandpa!”

Benedict poured himself some more tea as he watched Donna tackle her bacon sandwich with gusto. He smiled as she licked the tomato marmalade off her fingers.

_I love watching Donna eat. She so enjoys her food, bless her._

“There! That wasn’t so bad now, was it?”

“That was only because Grandpa answered the phone. Had Mom or Dad answered, it would have been a whole different ball game. Besides, they are also a little preoccupied with the big news from New York.”

“What news is that?” asked Benedict innocently.

“Steve’s been offered a position at the number one hospital in New York for orthopedics.”

“Really now? Well done him!"

“Yes. It’s quite an honor to receive an offer like that.”

“I’ll take you at your word then. I’m not up on New York hospitals.”

“Unfortunately, it would mean moving back to New York; but Grandpa said Steve got a counter offer from the doctor he’s working with here to stay.”

“No need to worry, Love. They’ll stay in London,” said Benedict with confidence as he picked a bacon crumble off his plate and popped it into his mouth.

Donna paused with her sandwich midway to her mouth. “You’re pretty sure of yourself, Benedict. Are you privy to some information that I’m not?”

“I shouldn’t be telling you this, but Steve told me in confidence that he’s been fishing for an offer from the doctor he’s working with so he and Carly can relocate here permanently.”

Donna’s face lit up. “Oh, he did, did he? I didn’t know you two were so tight.”

Benedict hummed and smiled at her. “Yep. Steve and I are thick as thieves, my Darling. We should be best mates if we’re to be brothers-in-law one day, don’t you agree?”

“Yes, you should,” smiled Donna. “Though I prefer to think of it as partners in crime.”

“True, true,” laughed Benedict, as he thought of Steve’s helping him with the engagement ring and his New York plans. “That he is.”

“I feel so much better hearing that. I’ve been afraid they would go back one day. This is one of the few times I approve of your breaking a confidence.”

“That’s why I told you. To put your mind at ease.”

“Thank you. I promise I won’t say anything to Carly about it.”

_Of course you will.  The next time you two are alone.  She's every bit as bad as I am with keeping secrets...with the exception of whatever it is she, Mum and Dad seem to be in on. I will find out.  It may take some time, but I'll get to the bottom of it._

“Good. So, how’s your bap?” asked Benedict taking a large bite of his. “I’m dying here awaiting your review.”

“Mmmm…mmmmm…This is delicious! The bacon is perfectly crisp and the marmalade adds a nice touch of sweetness without being cloying. Gail bakes a great ciabatta roll, too. Crusty outside with a chewy interior.”

“But is it yummy?”

Donna giggled. “Yes, it is very yummy.”

“Hearing such high praise from a food critic not only warms the cockles of my heart but renders me light-headed."

"I'll make sure to catch you if you swoon onto the table top."

"How would you say this breakfast rates on the yumminess scale?”

“It depends on what the surprise is.”

Benedict whipped the cloth serviette off the plate of gooey cinnamon rolls. “Behold! Gail’s famous cinnamon rolls. Made from flaky, buttery croissant dough and lovingly bathed in sweet, cinnamon-y goodness. ”

“Cinnamon-y is not a word.”

“I wouldn’t think so, but it sounded very professional – just like something a food critic would use,” teased Benedict. “Feel free to use it in your next review, just make sure to credit me properly with having coined the term.”

Donna laughed and reached for one of the cinnamon rolls. “Grandpa can’t wait to meet your mother. I’ve never seen him so excited.”

Benedict finished his sandwich and blotted his lips with a serviette. He sat back and sighed deeply as he looked out the window at the London skyline.

“I’m glad _someone_ is excited about today. I’m willing to bet he’s the only one, too.”

 

*************************************************************

 

“Everything’s been sorted, and I’m ready to mix up the drinks as soon as they get here,” announced Timothy Carlton as he came out of the kitchen.   “I must say that my strawberry fans came out every bit as good as the ones Nigella Lawson made on the telly last week. I even made sure to leave the stems and leaves on.”

Timothy stopped short as Wanda was nowhere to be seen.

_Where in the hell did my wife go? I left her sat here on the couch, talking to Judi about last night. Maybe she’s done with the debriefing and went out onto the balcony to wait for Benedict to show up with our guests.  
_

He strode across the lounge to find that the sliding glass door leading to the balcony was shut and locked.

_Well then. She must be in the bedroom. I hope she’s not changing her outfit again. We’ve already been through two changes since I got up.  
_

Timothy sauntered down the hallway to their bedroom.

“Wanda, I’m done prepping the drinks,” he called out. “Do you need me to do anything else before they get here?”

There was no answer.

Timothy peered into the master bedroom. It was empty. The doors to Tracy and Benedict’s old rooms stood open, and were both empty as well. Likewise the bathroom.

_Could she have gone up to the roof terrace for some fresh air? Unlikely as she could have gotten all the fresh air she fancied out on the balcony._

Timothy found the door leading to the roof terrace stairwell at the end of the hallway unlocked and open a crack.

_Wanda’s definitely gone up to the roof terrace. Oh, I know. She went up to pick some mint for the Pimms. No, that can’t be it. I already picked and washed the mint leaves last night. Good grief, I hope it’s not what I think it is._

Timothy slowly mounted the stairs due to the arthritis in his back, but was rewarded for his efforts. There stood Wanda, at the railing with a pair of binoculars trained in the direction that Benedict would be coming from. She had rolled one of their potted trees over with the intent of shielding her from view.

_For fuck’s sake! Just as I suspected. She’s on the lookout for Benedict and the Saint Jameses. I wonder where they are now?  
_

_***********************************************************_

 

Benedict and Donna had arrived at the Kensington High Street tube station at eleven fifteen. They rode the escalator up to the street level and found her parents and grandfather waiting outside the door leading into the station, deep in conversation.

“Shit, we’re late,” muttered Donna as they walked along the arcade towards the exit. “That damn train took an eternity to arrive!”

“I can’t help it that we just missed the first train or that they don’t run as frequently on the weekends. Send your complaints to London Underground, Customer Services; and they will bin them along with the others,” laughed Benedict.

Toni had turned to look back at the station exit and immediately caught sight of them. She said something to Neil and Colin and lifted her hand in greeting at them. Both men also waved at them.

“Mom looks pissed off because we’re late.”

“No, she doesn’t; and we’re not late.”

“We are late to meet them! We were supposed to be here at eleven.”

“My parents’ flat is but a ten minute walk, tops. We’ll be there on time. Now, just relax and try to make the best of things,” said Benedict as they neared the open exit. “I’m not expecting a scene. Besides, I think I’ve proven that I can handle them.”

 _You’re off to a good start, Benedict, but there is still so much you have yet to learn with dealing with them,_ thought Donna as she approached her waiting family.

“And should I need to set them straight, I’d appreciate it if you’d stay in your own lane,” whispered Benedict, coming up behind her.

_Okay. I get it. Shut up and let him bicker with them just like last night. Holy cow!_

“Good Morning Everyone!” said Donna cheerily, as she kissed her parents and Colin.

“Good Morning!” echoed Benedict.

_He didn’t apologize for being late, and it looks as if he doesn't intend to either. Look at their faces. They are going to say something. I suppose he’s leaving the apology to me.  
_

“Sorry we’re a bit late,” offered Donna in a meek voice. “The tube trains don’t run all that often on the weekends.”

“That’s why we made sure to leave the house early,” retorted Toni, looking pointedly at her watch. “So we would be here on time, and we were.”

_For fucks sake!  Fancy a cookie from me, Antonia, do you?  If so, you're not going to get one.  We left on time.  There's nothing to apologize for._

“Well done you. We actually did leave my flat on time,” countered Benedict. “I can’t help it if the train was pulling out of the station as we arrived on the platform.”

Toni studied Benedict as Donna squeezed his hand.

_Mom’s making up her mind as to whether or not it’s worth making a rebuttal._

“Had you left the house earlier, you would have made that train,” she added testily.

_Mom has decided it was worth making a stink over. Good gravy._

Benedict’s face clouded over. “We won’t be held accountable for the tube schedule, nor will we feel guilty about being a few minutes late,” he snapped, nose in the air.

“You were _exactly_ fifteen minutes late.”

“So why such a fuss? We’ll still be on time to my parents flat.”

_Benedict thinks he’s won that round. I don’t think Mom is finished yet. I’ll try and change the subject.  
_

“Did everyone sleep well last night?” asked Donna hopefully _.  
_

“Very well,” replied Toni with a slight smile. “Marco left you a bed with a premium mattress.”

“Yeah, I have to agree. That bed is very comfortable,” added Neil.

“Had we known you were going to be late, we could have slept a few minutes longer,” added Toni.

“What? A whole ten minutes longer?” chortled Benedict, pretending that Donna’s mother had made a joke. “I do adore your snarky sense of humour, Antonia.”

“It was also good to give my ears a rest after last night,” Neil snickered. “Lord knows, they needed it!”

“I’ll try my best not to talk today then,” retorted Benedict with a sneer. “I wouldn’t want to be responsible for hurting your ears.”

“And my ears thank you in turn,” shot back Neil. “Are you familiar with the expression: Silence is golden?”

“So early, much drama,” lamented Colin. “Don’t you think we can dispense with the rubbish bickering? I’ve got the start of a headache listening to you all bellyache. This is a day to celebrate the meeting of two families, whose children have fallen in love. What could be more special?”

“If they would all shut up and remain that way,” muttered Benedict under his breath. “And they have the bollocks to bitch that _I_ talk too much!”

“That will never happen,” replied Donna in a barely audible voice.

Donna and Benedict both noticed that Neil’s cheeks colored slightly, and he momentarily shut up. Toni stood beside her husband, looking a bit miffed at the reprimand. Colin nodded to himself with satisfaction and turned to Benedict with a huge smile as he extended his hand.

“It seems I’ve been forgotten about in the midst of the great time management debate. I’m Colin Saint James, Neil’s pa. We actually met on the phone,” he laughed good-naturedly.

“Benedict Cumberbatch. It’s a pleasure to meet you face-to-face,” said Benedict, shaking hands.

“I’ve been looking forward to this day,” announced Colin.

“Well, sir, that puts you in the minority, I’m afraid,” chuckled Benedict.

_Fuck me. Look at Donna’s face. Why did I blurt that out?  
_

_Someone forgot to turn on his mouth filter,_ thought Donna.

“Oh, crumpets! Please forgive my lack of manners. I actually didn’t mean to say that.”

“Of course you did. I was thinking the same thing,” quipped Neil.

“Might I be so bold as to suggest you consider keeping such thoughts to yourself then,” declared Colin sharply. “Because no one gives a fig what you are and aren’t thinking.”

“Just so there’s no misunderstanding - I never said that I wasn’t looking forward to today,” began Toni cautiously. “I’m actually…”

“Jolly good then, Toni. So we can expect no trouble out of you today. Duly noted,” said Colin dismissively.

 _I really love Grandpa,_ thought Donna. _He’s in control of them. Ben looks very impressed by him._

 _The old boy knows how to shut them down. Perhaps I should be taking notes,_ thought Benedict with amusement.

Satisfied that he had curbed his son and daughter-in-law for the time being, Colin returned his attention to Benedict and beamed.

“It’s not every day I get to meet Wanda Ventham. I’m sure it’s no secret that your mum is one of my all-time favourite actresses.”

Benedict returned the smile and checked his watch. “No, it isn’t actually.  I think I may have heard a mention or two about it.  I’m sure Mum will adore the attention. It’s been an age since she’s done a meet and greet. I think the last one was at a Sci-fi convention. She took Dad along and they had the loveliest time meeting all her fans.”

“Will your father be joining us today?” asked Colin.

Benedict started for a moment. _Why in the hell did he ask that? That was weird._ “Yeah. Of course he is. Dad wouldn’t miss this meeting for the world.”

 _If I didn’t know better, I’d say Grandpa looks disappointed that Timothy is going to be there today,_ thought Donna.

Donna’s eyes met her mother’s. Toni shrugged and rolled her eyes. Neil was watching his father with an intense curiosity.

“Why wouldn’t Ben’s father be there, Pa?” asked Neil. “He does live there after all.”

“I would expect him to be there,” added Toni. “He is Benedict’s father, and I’m sure he wants to meet us as much as we want to meet him.”

 _Don’t be so sure, Antonia,_ thought Benedict. _If Dad could get away with hiding out at the Garrick Club, he’d go in a heartbeat. And then Mum would divorce him…though she might actually fancy having a go at Neil without Dad to rein her in.  
_

“Just curious,” replied Colin, who seemed to be disappointed.

Benedict looked at Donna and frowned slightly. _If I didn’t know better, I could swear Colin fancies having Mum all to himself today. No, Benedict, that’s daft. You’re reading into this. He’s just a fan of Mum’s work is all. I hope.  
_

_Holy cow! Grandpa is disappointed that Timothy’s going to be home! I can’t believe this. Grandpa has a crush on Wanda and doesn’t want Timothy hanging around…or am I reading too much into this? I’m just being silly. I need to stop looking for trouble where none exists._

Benedict rubbed his hands together and smiled at Donna’s family. “Shall we head off then? My parents’ flat is about a ten minute walk from here.”

“Brilliant! Lead the way, Benedict!” boomed Colin. “Left or right?”

“To the left,” replied Donna.

_Oh. Shit. Look at Benedict’s face. I’m busted._

_Well, well, so Donna really does know which direction to go in. I thought she was bluffing before, but nope. She’s taken the tube here when I wasn’t around.  
_

_Wait! I can explain my way out of this! Why didn’t I remember this before?  
_

Donna took Benedict’s arm as they walked along.

“I bet you’re still wondering how I knew which direction to go in.”

“Erm…yeah, I was actually.”

“Remember the night you called me from your parent’s hall closet to ask me out?”

Benedict chuckled and nodded. “Yeah, I do. Vividly.”

“Well, I was on the same bus as Tracy and her family that night…”

_That’s right. Donna was sat on the same bus. I recall she had tried to get my attention from the window, but I didn’t notice her._

“…and I watched you all walk away from the tube station together in this direction.”

_OH. She’s right. Damn. I thought I had her this time…but still._

_Hahaha! I just thwarted Barrister Ben’s best efforts._

As Benedict and Colin walked along, talking and laughing; Donna glanced back over her shoulder to see that her parents had hung back to have a quick discussion. Benedict stopped in his tracks and turned to see what had captured her attention.

_How do you like that? The wankers stayed behind so they could talk about me. How fucking rude is that?_

“Excuse me, but my parents are expecting us at half eleven, Antonia. We wouldn’t want to be late now, would we?” Said Benedict Cumberbatch pointing at his watch with a huge smirk.

 

***********************************************************

  
 

Timothy sidled up to Wanda and said in a low voice, “Hiding behind the potted tree doesn’t work, Pet. You can be seen just fine, not to mention the sunlight reflecting off the binoculars make you quite easy to spot from below.”

Wanda lowered the binoculars in order to meet his gaze. “I’m not hiding,” she insisted. “I'm bird watching."

Timothy raised a quizzical eyebrow at her.  "You certainly picked an odd time of day to do it...especially with company expected and all."

"It was getting hot out here in the sun, so I was using the tree for shade.”

“Of course you are,” snickered Timothy.

“Are you sure about being seen?”

Timothy nodded. “Quite. I wasn’t aware of any covert observation going on this morning, Commander. There was nothing posted on the schedule, nor did I receive a memo on edible paper. Do you care to brief me or shall I wager a guess.”

“Hells bells, Tim! You’re distracting me,” said Wanda, resuming her position.

“I was wondering what had become of you. You were sat in the lounge debriefing Agent Dench when I set off for the kitchen to ready the drinks tray. At first, I had thought you retreated to the bedroom in order to check on your supply of head shots. Then when I found our room empty, I figured you had come up here to practice your autograph for your meet and greet in private.”

“Well, you managed to find me, in spite of my best efforts to remain incognito.”

“I love it when you use spy terms like ‘incognito’. It makes me proud to be able to count myself as one of your loyal foot soldiers.”

The only response from Wanda was an annoyed huff as she adjusted the binoculars.

“If any of the guests in the hotel are looking out their window, they are going to think it rather strange that there’s a woman with binoculars stood on one of the nearby rooftops.”

“Oh, for fucks sake, Tim. I could be watching for the Royals’ helicopter to take off or land over at Kensington Palace for all they know. Many of the neighbors do that.”

“Frankly, it looks to me as if you’re spying on the neighbors. Are you expecting old Mrs. Magrudder’s dog to soil our flower beds again and wish to catch it in the act of relieving itself? If so, you needed a camera. Had you thought to enlist my help, I would have thought to bring the camera or video recorder. Then you would have physical proof to confront Mrs. Magrudder with. I could also follow up by going downstairs and collecting a sample of the dog’s poo. I’m sure you could zoom in from up here and…”

“Oh, stop, Tim! You know that I’m on the lookout for Benedict.”

“Really?” asked Timothy in mock astonishment, as he took a step backwards. “Well, I’m shocked as shit that you would even consider such a thing!”

“You can dispense with the cheek, Tim. You know damn well what I’m up to.”

“Ah, you’re using the same covert observation technique that you unsuccessfully used when the Poulets first came to call. You do realize that Benedict spotted you up here, don’t you?”

“I’m standing back farther this time and using the potted tree as cover,” huffed Wanda.

“Brilliant maneuver, Commander. He’ll still be able to spot you a block away. He told me so himself that day.”

 “Shit.”

“Had you thought to confide in me, I would have been happy to share the secrets of my successful surveillance techniques from my mission at Parliament Hill Farmers Market, which I’d like to remind you was a rousing success.”

“You can stop rubbing it in now, Steed. Oh…wait…could that be them? What time is it?”

“Almost half eleven.”

“Damn. It’s not them. Despite Donna’s best efforts, Benedict is still tardy as shit.”

“They are not officially late yet, Pet.”

“They will be. I have the utmost confidence in our son’s ability to dawdle. Knowing Ben, he had a nice lie in, followed by a leisurely breakfast before finally dragging himself into the bath.”

“Why don’t you come back downstairs with me so you have enough time to practice your autograph. It has been a while. Wasn’t the last time at Laduree when that Jessica DeHavilland accosted you during your interview?”

Wanda lowered the binoculars. “I was trying to forget that interview. Now, will you _please_ stop teasing me about the damn autograph and head shot!”

“I have to find something to make light of today.”

“You know, her granddad may not ask for anything – have you ever considered that?”

“He’ll ask. Trust me. I predict a personalized autograph and photos.”

“I’m actually rather chuffed that Donna’s granddad is a fan and excited about coming here.”

“I suspect he’s the only one who is, Wanda.”

“It’s not everyday that I run into a fan of my work. The older I get, the less people remember me. Many of my older fans have died out – literally,” She chuckled.

Timothy drew her into arms for a gentle kiss. “As long as I remember you. That’s the important thing.”

“What time is it?” asked Wanda anxiously, picking up the binoculars.

“It’s half eleven now. We’d better go back downstairs before…wait. Isn’t that Benedict waving at you?”

Wanda trained the binoculars in the direction her husband had been pointing. There was Benedict walking beside Donna, with her parents and grandfather just slightly behind them. He gave her a jaunty little wave and shook his head as if he were disgusted with her behaviour.

“Pardon me, I believe you’ve been spotted, Commander,” said Timothy Carlton.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Gail's Bakery is in Hampstead.  
> 2\. Over 2000 comments! Wow! Keep them coming, dear readers! Let me know you're still here!  
> 3\. I wanted to show how Donna is still intimidated by her parents and that Benedict has made up his mind to try and support her to stand up to them, which as we can see from this chapter that she has ongoing difficulty doing.  
> 4\. Next week I will not be posting, as I’ll be vacationing in London. Yes, I’m seeing Hamlet; and am looking forward to it. :-D I'll be posting Chapter 107 on November 8th.


	107. Chapter 107

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Cumberbatches Meet the Saint James Family – Part 2 
> 
> Note: I’ll be using ************ to indicate things happening at the same time.

  

“We make a right onto Kensington Court and go to the second intersection, which is Queens Walk. My parents live in the four-story mews house on the northwest corner,” said Benedict Cumberbatch as they walked along Kensington High Street. 

“Kensington has come a long way since I was a lad,” remarked Colin. “The area has gentrified nicely.” 

“It sure has. To think that my parents paid only three thousand pounds for their flat back in the nineteen seventies,” quipped Benedict. “I’d say they’ve definitely made their investment back with some to spare.” 

“Their apartment can go for over two and half million, provided it’s in good condition,” said Toni, coming up from behind. 

“Oh, it’s definitely in good condition,” confirmed Benedict. “Dad does all the repairs himself; and if he can’t do it alone, he calls in me or a professional if it’s something that’s over our heads.” 

_So Cumberbatch claims to be handy around the house. How very, very interesting,_ thought Neil Saint James. _He doesn’t strike me as the type who would know which end of a hammer to use._

“You consider yourself to be handy around the house?” inquired Neil. 

Donna glanced back to see her father’s curiosity was piqued by Benedict’s comment.   _This has the potential to be the start of round two. Dad doesn’t think Benedict can do anything but act, wait tables and sell perfume._

_So, Donna’s father doesn’t think I’m capable of maintaining a household.   I’d love to show him what I can do one day._

“Absolutely,” replied Benedict with a smug smile. “I learnt quite a bit from my dad over the years. However, I’m not above calling in the pros if I find it’s something I can’t handle.” 

Neil appeared to be satisfied with Benedict’s response. “Then perhaps one day you could show me the correct technique for spackling. My home improvement skills are somewhat lacking, I’m afraid,” he chuckled. 

“My son is rubbish at home improvement, which is why he’s got a handyman on retainer,” joked Colin. “Toni’s the gifted one in the family when it comes to home maintenance.” 

“It would be my pleasure to show you one day, Neil,” replied Benedict, side-eyeing Donna. 

_Just as I suspected. The wanker thinks the drippy actor can’t manage to hammer in a nail properly. What a surprise he’s in for._

_Dad seems convinced that Benedict is useless when it comes to doing home repairs. He couldn’t be more wrong. Little does he know that Benedict is the go-to person whenever his friends need help with stuff._

“Gosh, Dad. I don’t remember you being that bad when it comes to doing stuff around the house. I’ve seen you install faucets, fix leaks, paint – you’re very handy,” pointed out Donna. 

“Haven’t you ever noticed that your father always has a skilled helper such as Grandpa or me by his side?” laughed Toni. 

“I don’t think you’ve ever completed a project alone, have you, Son?” asked Colin. 

“I was just saying that I know my limitations, Pa,” remarked Neil quietly. 

_Neil thinks I’m exaggerating,_ thought Benedict. _I’d best ignore him for the time being._

“How much would you say your parents’ flat goes for now, if I’m not being too nosy?” asked Colin in an attempt to steer the conversation back on track. 

Benedict pursed his lips and thought for a moment before answering. 

“Ooohhhh…I’d say somewhere in the neighborhood of one million only because they don’t own the whole house. They just own the top floor.” 

“It’s currently worth just under two million because it has three bedrooms and only one bath, but they gain back some because the apartment also has an elevator and your parents also own the one-car garage and have sole access to the roof terrace. If they could find a way to add another full bathroom, that would drive up the price significantly.” 

Donna rolled her eyes. _Someone was busy doing their homework last night._

Benedict stopped and confronted Toni. “You were researching my parents’ real estate records?” 

“Yes. I was curious as to what the properties in this area were going for.” 

Benedict raised an eyebrow at her. “Well, out with it then. Don’t keep me in suspense. How much is their flat worth?” 

“One million, nine hundred thousand, five hundred pounds – and that’s as it stands today. If they were to put some work into in and add a full or even a half bathroom, they could get substantially more.” 

Benedict whistled softly. “I had no idea it was worth that much.” Wait until Dad hears this news. He’ll be impressed as fuck. 

“Their villa in Greece is worth somewhat less due to the exchange rate. However; it’s still a nice chunk of change,” continued Toni. 

_How could they afford to buy a villa?_ Thought Donna. _I thought it was just a little bungalow in a small village._

“A villa? Wanda and Tim own a villa in Greece?” asked Donna incredulously. 

“It’s just a holiday home,” said Benedict dismissively. 

“I wouldn’t call it  _just_ a holiday home,” laughed Toni. “The views of the Mediterranean alone are worth the price. It really is in a idyllic setting!” 

“Bloody hell! You’ve seen photos of our holiday home in Galaxidi?” 

“Good grief, Mom! I haven’t even seen photos of their home in Greece!” exclaimed Donna. “And I’m the one who’s dating him!” 

“Oh, it’s on a beautifully tended little piece of property, and the villa is gorgeous!” enthused Toni. “White stucco…set on a hillside with walls of windows overlooking the ocean and village. I imagine the views from inside are spectacular.” 

“That they are,” nodded Benedict. “I’ve spent many an afternoon sat on a deck chair enjoying the view whilst reading a book. We adore Galaxidi because of the relaxed atmosphere. The locals are very friendly and welcoming.” 

“Is this a little villa?” asked Donna. “Just how big is it?” 

“There are three bedrooms and this one has two bathrooms and a one-car garage,” replied Toni before Benedict could open his mouth. “The garden and veranda are surrounded by a wall on three sides for privacy. I think the biggest selling point is that it’s an easy walk to the beach, markets and stores.” 

Benedict stopped again in the middle of the pavement. This time a visibly annoyed couple veered around them. He scratched his head in puzzlement, then rubbed the back of his neck. 

“I know I probably shouldn’t ask this, but I’m going to. What is it worth?” 

“Five hundred thousand pounds,” replied Toni. “Incredible for what they have. It’s quite a luxurious villa from the photos I’ve seen. I haven’t seen the inside, of course.” 

“Not for lack of trying, I’m sure,” quipped Benedict. 

“You can see from the photos that the windows are shuttered,” said Toni, clearly disappointed. “I’m sure you mother prefers to close up the house completely while your all in England.” 

“The villa is quite lovely inside,” said Benedict. “Mum has it decorated in white with purple and turquoise accents. It’s a very open and airy floor plan.” 

“Villa?” repeated Donna. “You keep referring to it as a villa?” 

Benedict nodded. “That’s because it _is_ a villa, Donna.” 

“The humble, jobbing actors own an apartment worth almost two million and a villa worth five hundred thousand quid,” scoffed Neil in a low voice. 

“They also own property in the Cotswolds,” added Toni. “Gloucestershire to be exact.” 

“Its a little country retreat that they bought when I was twelve,” explained Benedict. “My parents like to spend the weekends there and the Christmas holidays.” 

“I’d like to have been able to pull that one off,” Remarked Neil. “Three homes.” 

“You own a ski condo in Vermont and are a Disney Vacation Club owner,” said Benedict, totally catching Toni and Neil off guard. “The Gramercy Park townhouse is worth quite a bit, as we discussed last night. My sources tell me that you bought the townhouse and condo years ago when they weren’t all that much. The townhouse went for three hundred and fifty thousand and the condo in Vermont was twenty five thousand.” 

_Holy shit! My honey’s investigators were working overtime. The look of surprise on Mom and Dad’s faces is priceless. They never expected to hear Benedict recite all their personal information in turn._

_I really owe Dennis and Suzanne a nice dinner at the Ivy Club one night. He’s done me proud with the gathering of all this useful information._

“You’ve watched the property values increase steadily over the years, as I’m sure Benedict’s family has,” said Colin. 

“You bought into the Disney Vacation Club when it was first launched for the tidy sum of ten thousand dollars and kept steadily adding points over the years to get to where you are now,” continued Benedict. 

“What are you up to now – eight weeks worth of points?” asked Colin. 

“We have enough for twelve weeks worth, Pa,” corrected Toni. “We would have had more but we switched our home resort from Old Key West to the Boardwalk because we liked the location better.” 

“Sounds to me like you’ve done alright for yourself, Neil,” concluded Benedict. 

“A villa,” repeated Donna. “Wanda and Tim own an actual villa. How on earth could they afford to buy a villa, Ben?” 

Benedict rolled his eyes. “Mum and Dad had been filming in Galaxidi and fell in love with the area. This was a few years before I was born. They came across the house one day as they were having a wander about the town. It was for sale, and they made an appointment to view it on a whim. They were so over-the-moon with it and the price was so reasonable, that they decided to buy it as a holiday home on the spot. They didn’t pay all that much for it because it also needed a lot of work, which Mum and Dad were happy to do in order to have a nice retreat for us to go to during my winter and spring school breaks.” 

“You get a lot of bang for your buck - or quid in this case - in Greece,” confirmed Toni. “You can live like a lord on a modest budget.” 

Benedict nodded. “That you can.” 

“Greece is to Londoners, what Florida is to New Yorkers – a winter getaway spot,” added Colin. “Both places are nice and sunny and warm!” 

Donna prodded Benedict. “I hate to break up the real estate discussion, but it’s almost eleven thirty!” 

As they came within sight of the mews house, a flash of light from up above nearly blinded Benedict.   “What the fuck?”   He raised his arm to shield his eyes as he squinted to see what it was. 

Donna had also seen the glint of light. “What in the world is that?” 

“It looks like there’s someone up on the roof,” declared Neil. 

“And that someone is using binoculars,” added Toni. 

_And that someone would be Mum,_ thought Benedict angrily. _For fucks sake! She’s up there spying on us, just like the time I brought Olivia’s family to meet them for the first time. Nothing ever changes!_

“If I wouldn’t sound completely paranoid, I’d say whoever it is, is watching us with the binoculars,” said Colin. 

“No, you’re not paranoid,” muttered Benedict under his breath. “We’re definitely being watched.” 

“I see two people up there,” chimed in Donna. “One is standing near the railing…" 

_Who I could swear is Tim…yes, it’s Tim alright. I can tell by the silver hair._

“…and the other one is…” 

_Wanda hiding behind a potted tree because she thinks we can’t see her from down here. She’s wrong. Good gravy!_

“There are definitely two people up there,” observed Colin. “One just stepped back out of view. It looked like a man with gray hair. The other appears to be a woman, attempting to hide behind a tree.” 

“Please don’t tell me those are your parents up there,” said Donna in a low voice. 

_I’m fucked! I can’t say no. Antonia and Donna both know Mum and Dad are the only ones with access to the roof terrace, so it can’t be anyone else up there but them. I’m mortified beyond words._

Benedict sighed deeply. “I wish I could more than anything, but alas I can’t. Yes, those are my parents up there.” 

“Were they watching for us then?” asked Colin innocently. “I do believe that’s your lovely mother holding the binoculars behind the tree, yes?” 

_Oh, wait, Benedict! You haven’t lost face yet. I think I have a perfectly plausible explanation!_

“Actually, my parents are quite fond of watching the Royals come and go in their helicopter from Kensington Palace. I used to love nothing more than watching the helicopters take off and land when I was a small.” 

_And now he’s going to say his first word was helicopter_ , smiled Donna to herself. _He loves telling that story._

“They tell me that my first word was actually helicopter,” chuckled Benedict. “I was that taken with them.” 

Toni leaned close to Donna. “That’s baloney, Muffin! They were up there watching for us, not helicopters,” she whispered in amusement. 

“I wouldn’t put it past his mother,” Donna whispered back. “Don’t make a big deal out of it, please.” 

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” replied Toni. “I just feel sorry for Benedict that his mother’s so nosy. He’s clearly embarrassed. Look how red his face is.” 

“I had his mother pegged from the day I received her letter. The woman is a first-class meddler,” whispered Neil. “Mark my words, Donna. She’ll be one of those pain-in-the-ass mother-in-laws.” 

_Oh, Daddy is right about that. Wanda loves to meddle, bless her nosy little heart. She’s in the thick of everything. I’ll definitely have to set boundaries if Benedict and I marry one day or she’ll swallow me whole. Hmmm…who does that remind me of? Oh, yes – it reminds me of my own parents. Ugh!_

“Remember what Nona always says: You not only marry the man, but his family as well,” warned Toni. 

Donna noticed Benedict’s head swivel at her mother’s words. “Perhaps I could get a partial divorce from the rest of the family then,” he said under his breath. 

“Don’t frown at your mother like that, Donna. It’s just food for thought,” added Neil. 

Donna watched as Colin suddenly slipped his camera phone ut of his pocket and took a photo of the upcoming mews house.   Benedict had swiveled his head at the barely inaudible sound of the camera clicking. 

_Shit! Benedict heard the camera shutter snap!_

_Did the grandfather just snap a photo or am I imaging it? The only thing in sight is Mum and Dad’s house._

“Grandpa! Please don’t do that,” begged Donna. “That’s as bad as his parents spying on us with binoculars.” 

“It’s not every day I get to visit an actual celebrity’s home,” explained Colin. “I want to remember every second of this day.” 

“Please! No more photos until I ask Wanda, Grandpa. I’m sure she’ll be happy to take a photo with you.” 

“I, for one, would enjoy seeing one of the Royal helicopters take off or land,” declared Colin, as he returned his mobile to his pocket. 

_The old boy just pocketed his mobile. He did take a photo! Bloody hell._

“Do you think there will be a sighting today?” Colin asked hopefully. 

_How the fuck do I know? All I know is that the only sighting Mum is interested in is one that involves the Saint James family, and her mission is now complete. Well done her._

“I don’t know,” retorted Benedict impatiently. “Buckingham Palace neglected to file a flight plan with me.”   

“Benedict!” hissed Donna. “Don’t take your bad mood out on Grandpa!” 

“Cumberbatch certainly can be a moody bastard,” observed Neil quietly to his wife. 

Benedict felt his ears burn. _Donna’s right. I’m in a strop because of Mum, and took it out on her granddad. Neil must think I didn’t hear him refer to me as a moody bastard, but I did. I’m really not or am I? That’s not the first time someone’s referred to me as moody. Olivia said I was very moody and temperamental at times._

“Beg pardon, Colin,” said Benedict, face reddening further. “I didn’t intend to be so cheeky…it’s just that I’m anticipating a stressful afternoon.” 

“You shouldn’t worry yourself with things that are out of your control, Benedict,” declared Colin as he patted the younger man’s shoulder. “You can only do so much and then leave them to duke it out for themselves, should it come to that.” 

“Perhaps my parents heard the Royal helicopter land and are waiting for it to take off again.” 

_You lie to try and save face, Benedict. It’s a very simple scenario. Mum went up to the roof terrace with every intention of spying, and Dad caught her. That’s what happened when the Poulets came to Sunday lunch. I need to let Mum know that her spying technique leaves a lot to be desired._

As they drew closer to the mews house, Benedict raised his hand in greeting and waved at the figure holding the binoculars on the roof.   The person immediately vanished from sight. 

 

************************************************************

 

“Well done, Commander. Your cover’s been blown by Sherlock Holmes,” snapped Timothy as they made their way down the stairs and back into the flat. “Just like the time with the Poulets.” 

“Benedict is always looking where he shouldn’t be. I was hidden behind the tree for fucks sake.” 

“And the light reflecting off your bloody binoculars announced your location brilliantly.” 

“Hells bells! Did you see what the mother was wearing?” 

“I’m afraid not, Commander. You had sole control of the binoculars.” 

“She’s wearing a very expensive-looking suit and enough jewelry to decorate a Christmas tree.” 

“Hmmm…fancy that. I’m impressed that you were able to see all that detail even with the binoculars. Were you able to zoom in on the label in her jacket then?” 

“I’ve got to change out of this outfit. It’s too casual!” exclaimed Wanda, heading into their bedroom with Timothy at her heels. 

“What about the father and grandfather? You haven’t said anything about what they were wearing? Do you think I need to change too?” 

“Yes! They are both wearing sports coats and ties!” 

Wanda began to strip off her clothing as she pondered the contents of the walk-in wardrobe. She rummaged through all the neatly hung tops and bottoms in search of a worthy replacement for what she had been wearing. 

“Shall I put on my black suit? I prefer wearing trousers, but she’s got on a skirt.” 

Neither of them heard Benedict’s voice as he entered the flat.

“Hello! We’ve made it!” 

Wanda stopped and stood there in her black lace bra and panties staring at her husband as if he had grown another head. “I asked you what you think I should wear?” She held up a rose-coloured silk dress with three-quarter length sleeves and a boat neckline. “What about this then? Too plain?” 

Timothy smiled at her lewdly. “I rather like what you’re wearing right now.” 

“Hellooooo? Where is everyone?” came Benedict’s voice from the hallway. They could hear him walking down the hallway towards their room. “I’m too old to be playing hide and seek!” 

Wanda and Timothy exchanged glances and shook their heads. 

“Where in the hell did he come from? They still had another block to walk!”   exclaimed Wanda in annoyance. 

“I believe we’ve been ambushed on our home turf by the enemy, Commander. Any last words before Barrister Ben joins us?” 

 

***********************************************************

 

 Benedict Cumberbatch unlocked the door to his parents’ flat and held it open so the Saint James family could precede him into the foyer. 

“Hello! We’ve made it!” Benedict called out as he pulled the door shut behind him. 

There was no response from neither his mother nor his father. 

_That’s odd. I was certain they’d be waiting in the lounge for us to greet Donna’s family._

“Well, at least we know they didn’t go out,” laughed Donna. “Maybe they’re in the kitchen.” 

“Or still up on the roof,” quipped Neil. 

_God, I hope not,_ thought Benedict. _Nothing like getting caught in the act of coming back down._

“If they’re in the kitchen, they may not have heard you,” said Donna. “Sometimes it’s hard to hear in there.” 

Benedict stared at Donna with narrowed eyes. _Oh, is it now? You were never in the kitchen for more than a couple of minutes that I know of._

“Please come in,” said Benedict leading the way into the lounge. “Make yourselves at home whilst I fetch Mum and Dad.” 

Donna heard a click from behind her. She turned to find Colin busy snapping photos of the foyer. 

“Grandpa! Benedict won’t be happy that you’re taking these without his parents’ permission.” 

“Okay, I’ll stop for now; but this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and I don’t want it to go to waste, Granddaughter!” 

Neil and Toni sat side-by-side on the couch and Colin took one of the armchairs. Donna sat beside her mother. 

“What a nice large living room!” said Toni, surveying her surroundings as Benedict disappeared through the kitchen archway. “The alcove they use for a dining room is also generously-sized. How about the rest of the rooms?” 

“All the rooms are fairly large,” confirmed Donna. “Except for the kitchen. It’s meant to be a work kitchen, but they managed to squeeze in a small table that can seat four people.” 

“Well, they’re not in the kitchen,” said Benedict. “The only other place they can be is in one of the bedrooms or the loo.” 

“Or the roof,” said Neil. “Could they have locked themselves out?” 

“I seriously doubt it,” replied Benedict. “I’ll be right back.” He quickly trotted down the hallway. 

“Ah, I think I’ll take this opportunity to have a quick look around,” said Colin, getting up and examining the various photos that were scattered around the room. “It’s not every day one has the chance to be in an actual celebrity’s home!” He removed his mobile and began to take photographs of the lounge area. 

“Grandpa! You said you would stop playing photographer! Please! Benedict is going to catch you.” 

“Pa, this is probably not a good idea,” said Neil gently. “It’s going to look bad if one of them catches you. We can take all the pictures you want once we’re in the gardens and having tea.” 

Colin ignored both his granddaughter and son’s plea and continued snapping away. 

Donna and Toni exchanged looks. “Grandpa’s acting like a fanboy!” she said in a low voice. “It’s cute and it’s not. He needs to stop taking photos of everything!”

"Imagine what Pa would do if he were in the home of someone who was really famous!" chuckled Neil.  

"Wanda is very famous as far as Grandpa is concerned, Dad," pointed out Donna.

“He’s been looking forward to this ever since he found out that Wanda is Benedict’s mother,” confirmed Toni. “You should have seen him this morning, Donna. Carly said he was up at the crack of dawn and barely touched his bagel and coffee.” 

“My advice is to just let him have his fun, Muffin,” said Neil. “Once Pa’s mind is made up, there’s no stopping him.” 

“Hellooooo? Where is everyone?” They heard Benedict call out in his deep baritone voice. “I’m too old to be playing hide and seek!” He added in a joking tone. 

“I don’t see how they could get lost in here. The place doesn’t look all that big,” chuckled Neil. “Perhaps Ms. Ventham is preparing to confront me.” 

“Daddy! You said you weren’t going to start anything.” 

Neil looked hurt. “And I have no intention of starting anything. I was just making a comment. You and Cumberbatch are the ones who seem worried about an argument breaking out.” 

“From what you told us, Muffin, the mother is the one who’s most likely to start something, as you put it,” added Toni, inspecting the contents of the crystal candy dish. “Hmmm…you don’t see candy dishes actually filled with candy anymore.” 

“Those are chocolate truffles made with cayenne pepper, and they are super hot,” Donna informed her mother. “I almost destroyed my palate on one of those!” 

Toni helped herself to three and dropped them into her handbag. “We’ll try one when we get back to your apartment.” 

"Mom!  I wish you wouldn't do that!"

“Oh, here you are! Donna and her parents are in the lounge…” they heard Benedict say. This was followed by the sound of a door slamming shut and the sound of muffled voices. 

Toni got up off the couch and proceeded to look around. “I see what you mean about that fleur-de-lis wallpaper,” she whispered to Donna. “It’s a bit much even on one wall.” 

“Shush! Ben will hear you. Trust me on that!” 

“My God! How on earth does his mother have the time and patience to clean all this stuff? There are so many knickknacks and collectibles and…stuff!” 

Donna giggled. “I thought the same thing the first time I was here. Benedict said his mother has a cleaning woman come in every other week to do the heavy cleaning, and Wanda does it herself in between. I’d go nuts if I had to dust all of this.” 

“The place looks like it was frozen in the nineteen seventies,” continued Toni. “The furniture itself is of good quality and timeless, but the accessories and window treatments are very dated. Who frames butterflies, but an insect collector?” 

Colin had been studying the photos that covered the occasional tables and walls as he paused in his photo-taking. “Stop poking fun at Wanda’s decorating, Antonia! There’s nothing wrong with it. Her taste is eclectic. This lounge is quite comfortable and homey.” 

“Eclectic,” repeated Toni. “I suppose we could call it that. You never told us anything about Benedict’s apartment, Donna. Is it the usual messy bachelor pad?” 

“Excuse me, Dear; but I wasn’t a messy bachelor,” laughed Neil. “My room was always spotless.” 

“Excuse me, but that was only because you lived at home, and your mother cleaned it!” retorted Toni with a grin. 

“Benedict’s apartment is very clean, and he tries very hard to keep it tidy most of the time,” said Donna. 

_I just fibbed a little. Clean - absolutely. Neat - questionable at times. He always makes sure the living room is presentable in case company comes over and the bathroom is always spotless. However, his bedroom is akin to extra storage space most of the time._

“I get it. He’s a slob, and you don’t want to admit it,” said Toni. 

“That’s not so at all!” protested Donna vehemently. “I’ve actually seen him clean the toilet.” 

“His shirt looks like it could have been ironed a bit more,” observed Toni. “His jeans were creased, too.” 

“That’s the style, Mother. I’m surprised that you’re not familiar with the permanent creases that some of the jeans now have being you’re so up on fashion!” 

“Well, I’m not a fan of that style. Did you see the socks he was wearing?” 

“No, Mom; but I have a feeling you got a glimpse of them.” 

“I did when he stopped to tie his shoe. They were hideous! Yellow with black polka dots. I don’t know how you managed to miss them.” 

Donna sighed. “Well, I did. At least they don’t have owls on them.” 

“Don’t worry, if Cumberbatch should ever make it big, his agent will make sure he hires a stylist,” laughed Neil. 

Donna looked around in a panic. “Where in the heck did Grandpa go to?” 

“He went through that archway,” said Neil, pointing towards the kitchen. 

“Oh, NO!” lamented Donna. 

Colin came out of the kitchen and smiled. “Nice little kitchen. I’m happy to report that Wanda is very clean and neat. There’s something baking in the oven, and it looks like a makeshift bar is set up to serve drinks on one of the counters.” 

“I think you missed what passes for the dining room, Pa,” joked Toni. 

“No. I got that on my way into the kitchen whilst you were all prattling on about whether Donna’s beau is a slob or not.” 

“Pa, you still have great hearing,” laughed Neil. 

“Would you just look at all this wonderful memorabilia showcasing Wanda’s career!” gushed Colin, waving his hand around. 

“I call it clutter,” smirked Toni. “I bet she didn’t consult with a decorator.” 

“This is the poster for when Wanda starred as Daphne Pink in _Watch It, Sailor!_ I recall going to see it twice at the Apollo. She was that good in it!” He took a photo of it. “There. I think I captured everything I could for the time being.” Satisfied, he put the mobile back in his pocket. 

“It’s like I’ve stepped into the Wanda Ventham Museum,” snickered Neil. “At least the admission is free.” 

“That’s funny because the first time I was here, Grandpa, I thought this looked like a shrine to Benedict,” chuckled Donna. “I guess it depends on which family member you’re interested in.” 

Toni had wandered into the dining room alcove and was taking inventory of the contents of Wanda’s glass-fronted china cabinet. “Donna, have you had a chance to look at Wanda’s china and crystal? It’s beautiful! So delicate looking – I bet they’re antiques.” 

Donna joined her mother at the china cabinet. “Yes, I’ve even eaten off most of it. Many of these were handed down to Wanda by Tim’s mother. I wish I could show you her silver pattern and her vintage linens. They’re all so pretty!” 

“Perhaps if you marry him, she’ll leave everything to you,” mused Toni. 

“Mom! I know Benedict and I have an understanding; but there has been no formal proposal yet. I don’t want any of Wanda’s things! I want her to live a long and happy life!” 

“Well, I suppose since he’s an only child, everything will be left to him; therefore, it will go to you via marriage.” 

“You’re forgetting something, Mom. Benedict is not Wanda’s only child.” 

Toni nodded. “That’s right. She has a daughter named Tracy Peacock from her first marriage. She’s an antique frame restorer by trade and runs a little shop in the Cotswolds, where she currently resides. Tracy and her husband…” 

_Mom was very busy researching Wanda and Timothy last night. She knows all about Tracy, too._

“…..Derek, who’s a regional manager for a London-based electronics manufacturer, have two daughters. Emily and Jennifer, who are both students. I suppose Wanda’s will has everything split between Benedict and his sister.” 

“Don’t _you_ know?” sneered Donna. “For God’s sake! You seem to know everything else!” 

“I almost forgot about Wanda’s first marriage,” commented Neil. 

“To that businessman, James Tabernacle,” chimed in Colin. “He obviously didn’t know how to keep such a fine flower blooming in the garden of life.” 

“Grandpa, I do love your metaphors!” 

Neil smiled fondly at his father. “Pa, you’ve always been a romantic, which is a fine quality to have. Mom always loved and appreciated all your little romantic gestures over the years.”

“Amen,” agreed Toni. “And I’m thankful that you have taken after Pa in that department, too.” 

“Did you know that Tim sends Wanda a perfect, red, long-stemmed rose every Monday morning since they began dating?” asked Donna in a barely audible voice. “Now, that’s what a call romantic!” 

“Humph. That’s brown-nosing in my book,” retorted Colin, adjusting his glasses on his nose as he studied a photo of Wanda and Benedict on the beach. 

_Am I imagining it, or is Grandpa’s not a fan of Tim?_

“Benedict is following in Tim’s footsteps by sending me flowers every week, Grandpa,” boasted Donna. “Like father, like son.” 

“More brown-nosing,” grumped Colin. “Like father, like son. Ben didn’t strike me as that type of beau.” 

_One mention of Timothy, and Grandpa gets stropy, as Benedict would say. He hasn’t even met him yet._

“Cumberbatch is trying to outshine his father,” smirked Neil. “To be honest, the act of sending a simple rose to your lover like the father does is the more romantic gesture of the two.” 

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” giggled Toni. “I’d be pretty bowled over to be the recipient of two bouquets of flowers every week like Donna is. Even if Benedict can’t afford it.” 

“I never said he can’t afford it, Mom! Where do you come up with this stuff?” 

_Shut up, Donna. You know damn well where she gets her intel from - her investigators. Mom knows down to the penny how much is in Benedict’s bank account and what his expenditures are._

“I wonder what’s keeping them?” mused Toni. “Benedict’s been gone quite a while, don’t you think?” 

“They’re probably talking about us just like we’re talking about them,” replied Neil. “It is rude to leave us sitting here like this – though I’m the only one sitting. The rest of you are busy taking stock of the place.” 

Donna thought she heard the door to Wanda and Timothy’s bedroom open. Her mother had just opened one of the drawers to Wanda’s china cabinet and was inspecting the neatly folded tablecloths and napkins. 

“Shhhh…I think I just heard a door open. Mom, please shut the drawer; and Grandpa, please stop putting all the photo frames back in the wrong places. They are going to know you’ve been handling everything!” 

“Not to mention photographing every square inch like it was a crime scene,” added Neil.

“Shit! I forgot about the photographs!” exclaimed Donna.  

“Relax, Muffin. I sincerely doubt they’re going to check for fingerprints,” chortled Neil. 

“That’s not funny, Dad!” 

_Barrister Ben will notice. I’ve seen him in action. Nothing gets past my honey. Nothing._

“Now, please let’s sit down before they catch us snooping around!” Donna whispered urgently to her mother and grandfather. 

“Good idea,” said Neil. “I’d hate to hear the three of you attempt to explain your way out of that one.” 

Colin turned his attention to the framed family photos on the table between his chair and the couch. He picked up one of the photos and studied it. 

“How beautiful Wanda was when she was young!” said Colin softly. “I bet she still looks as beautiful in person.” 

“Grandpa must think he’s died and gone to Wanda Ventham Heaven,” whispered Donna. “I can’t wait to see him when he meets her face-to-face.” 

“And I do believe that time has come,” said Neil under his breath as Wanda, Timothy and Benedict entered the room. 

 

*************************************************************

  

Benedict strode purposefully into his parents’ bedroom and shut the door behind him. To his astonishment, the room was empty except for a pair of Wanda’s trousers lying on the bed and two of Timothy’s sport coats. 

“Mum? Dad? Hello? Where in the hell are you two? Has this house gone completely crackers?” 

_This can’t be happening! I’m living in the motherfucking twilight zone._

“We’re in the wardrobe. Hiding,” came Timothy’s voice from inside the walk-in. “However, despite our best efforts it seems you’ve still managed to track us down.” 

“Christ! There isn’t time to be cheeky, Dad! I’ve left Donna and her family sat alone in the lounge whilst I’ve been searching high and low for you two! What in the hell is going on?” demanded Benedict as he went straight to the door of the wardrobe to find Timothy zipping up Wanda’s rose-coloured silk dress. His mother was barefoot and her hair mussed. 

“Why are you making such a fuss, Ben? You don’t think they’re capable of entertaining themselves until we’re ready,” retorted Timothy as he changed his tie. “Is this one more to your liking, Wanda?” 

Wanda looked her husband over. “Yes. I hate those damn knit ties you’re so fond of wearing. They date you. This silk one is much nicer.” 

_They were both dressed in different clothes when I just saw them up on the motherfucking roof not more than ten minutes ago!_

“For fucks sake! You’re not even dressed! What are you two doing in here?” 

Timothy smirked. “I thought it was rather obvious,” he replied. “Your mother wanted to see how quickly she could do a costume change before you came up. She likes to keep in practice that way in case she suddenly gets tapped for a role in a West End production. It’s a game of sorts. We call it ‘beat the lift’. There you go, Pet.” 

“Bullshit!” thundered Benedict. “You’ve both been changing your bloody clothes.” 

His father pointedly ignored him. “Here’s your scarf, Wanda.” 

“Thanks, Tim. I just need to change my shoes now and run a brush through my hair,” said Wanda as she tied the chiffon scarf around her neck. “You’re being rather stropy, Ben.” 

“Yes, I’m stropy! I have good reason to be stropy! Your company is out in the lounge taking a tour and no doubt appraising everything you own, whilst Dad’s playing valet, and you’re pondering which shoes to wear as if you were in Liberty and had all bloody day to shop!” 

Timothy picked his wife’s discarded clothes up off the floor and began putting them onto hangars. “I always longed to play a valet,” he mused. “Lord knows I’ve had enough real life practice over the years.” 

“The lining in my dress was bunched up, so I was just adjusting it when you came storming in. I wasn’t changing per se.” 

Benedict raised an eyebrow at his mother. 

“Not completely anyway. I didn’t change my undergarments.” 

“That’s not what you were wearing up on the roof, Mother!” 

“See, I told you he could see you plain as day,” snickered Timothy. 

“Erm…you’re wearing a different jacket, Dad; and you just changed your tie.” 

Timothy looked down at himself and feigned surprise. “So I am! How about that.” 

“No one saw us but you, Ben,” scoffed Wanda. 

“They’re not stupid you know,” snapped Benedict. “They all saw you up on the roof spying on them.” 

“I wasn’t spying on anyone,” insisted Wanda. “I wanted to pick some mint for the Pimms Cups.”

 Benedict laughed bitterly. “So you just happened to be picking mint by the railing? The herb garden is on the other side of the terrace!” 

“I…I was…” 

“And where is the mint you picked?” asked Benedict, arms folded across his chest. “You didn’t have time to put the mint in the kitchen, because you came straight in here to change clothes.” 

“Jolly good observation, Barrister,” quipped Timothy. “I really must buy you a powdered wig for Christmas this year.” 

“Dad, you’re not helping matters. Mum was stood by the railing with those binoculars trained right on us! It’s one thing to be seen casually gazing out at the view; but it was so fucking obvious that she was spying on them.” 

“Was it hiding behind the tree or was it using the binoculars that gave your mother’s position away?” inquired Timothy innocently as his wife glared at him. 

“Both! The sun was reflected off the damn binoculars, and any fool could see that she was attempting to conceal herself behind a bloody potted tree of all fucking things!” Benedict contorted his body in an imitation of Wanda’s position. “How tacky was that, Mum? Eh? I’m beyond mortified!” 

_He’s got me behind the eight ball,_ thought Wanda. _I may as well come clean._

“Hells bells, Ben! I just wanted to see what the mother was wearing is all. I had no idea she was going to show up dressed to the nines. It’s not like we’re going to take afternoon tea at the Ritz or the Savoy. I was dressed much too casually, so I decided the dress was more appropriate for a first meeting with Donna’s family.” 

Timothy rolled his eyes. “This was after the pants suit, which was preceded by the skirt and blazer…” 

Benedict impatiently raised his hand. “Okay. I get it. I’m sure all your previous outfits were just fine, but I assure you there’s no need to impress Donna’s mum. Antonia’s many things; but she’s not like that. I’m sure she could give two shits as to what you’re wearing.” 

Wanda shook her head at Benedict and laughed haughtily. “There’s a lot you have to learn, bless you. Of course she’s going to be looking me over. Honestly, Ben!” She turned on her heel and left the wardrobe. 

Timothy and Benedict trailed along after Wanda, who paused at her dresser in order to brush her hair. 

“It’s alright, Ben. I failed Women’s’ Couture 101, too,” Timothy whispered, patting his son’s shoulder. “I’ve learnt to go along with whatever she says. It’s safer that way.” 

“I know exactly what you mean, Dad.” Benedict smiled slightly at his father. “It’s a comfort to know I’m in good company.”   

Wanda finally set down the brush, removed the scarf and added a strand of pearls to her outfit. She posed so she could view her profile from the right and then from the left. 

“Well, this is as good as it gets,” she sighed. 

“You look stunning, Mother,” growled Benedict, temper flaring. “Really you do. Now can we please go out and welcome Donna’s family properly? They must think we’re terribly rude bastards.” 

“I just want to look nice for them,” explained Wanda. “There’s nothing wrong with that! Oh, wait! Tim, straighten your tie. It’s a bit crooked. Don’t you have a different pair of shoes to wear? Those are so old and run down-looking.” 

“These are my comfortable walking shoes, which I always wear when touring the gardens. My dress shoes hurt my feet if I wear them for too long. Sorry to disappoint you,Wanda; but the shoes are not negotiable. However, I can do something about the tie.” 

“Your tie is fine, Dad!” whined Benedict, rubbing the back of his neck. “Pleassssseeee, can we expedite matters along?” 

Timothy came to stand beside his wife so as to use the mirror over the dresser in order to adjust his tie. He stood back and spread his arms. 

“There. Do I pass inspection now, Commander?” 

_Look at Ben’s face. Why did my husband decide to use his cheeky nickname for me now?_

“Did you just call me Commander?” 

“Yes, I did. I thought it was most appropriate given the circumstances,” replied Timothy. “Now, let’s get out there before Ben rubs all the skin off of his neck.” 

“I kind of like Commander,” giggled Benedict. “It has a nice ring to it.” 

“A ring of authority, I’d say,” laughed Timothy. “And authoritative she is, bless her.” 

“You two can stop talking about me as if I weren’t here!” snapped Wanda, adjusting her earrings one last time and adding another ring. “Okay. I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.” 

“Don’t forget you have your meet and greet with Donna’s granddad. He’s quite excited,” added Benedict. “I bet he’s out there pacing the lounge.” 

“It’s time for your close up, Miss Ventham,” smirked Timothy. “Off you go then whilst I grab one of your head shots and a sharpie.” 

 

*********************************************************

  

“Hello Everyone!” said Wanda as she dramatically swept into the room with all the grace of a movie star. Her smile was dazzling, and it was obvious to Donna that she had turned on every bit of charm that she could muster. 

“Welcome to our home.” 

_Wow. I’m so impressed,_ thought Donna. _She looks so perfect and elegant. That silk dress is gorgeous, her makeup is flawless and not a hair is out of place. This is the Wanda that Grandpa has a crush on._

Benedict literally beamed with pride as he guided his parents towards the sitting area so he could make the introductions. _Mum is positively glowing, and Dad looks quite dapper today._

“Mum, Dad, these are Donna’s parents: Antonia and Neil Saint James. Antonia, Neil, these are my parents: Wanda and Timothy Cumberbatch.” 

_And if there is a God, may he have mercy on our souls,_ Benedict thought grumpily, as Donna came to stand by his side. _I feel like I’m going to puke._

Donna glanced up at Benedict and smiled nervously at him. _I feel like my stomach’s about to bottom out. I’ve never felt so nervous in my life._

Neil and Toni immediately got to their feet and approached Wanda and Timothy. Colin sat seemingly paralyzed in his chair, mouth agape, as he stared at Wanda. 

Timothy noticed Colin’s face and frowned slightly. _For fucks sake! He’s looking at my wife like he’s a starving man; and she’s a lamb chop._

“Grandpa,” called Donna, beckoning to Colin. “Come and say hello to Benedict’s parents.” 

Colin finally seemed to pull himself out of his reverie and immediately joined the group. 

“And this is Neil’s dad: Colin Saint James,” smiled Benedict, patting Colin on the arm reassuringly. 

“Thank you for inviting us to your lovely home. I’m so happy that we could finally get together,” said Toni warmly as she shook hands with Wanda and Timothy. “Donna speaks so highly of you.” 

“Benedict has spoken of you both to us as well,” Wanda managed to say with a forced smile. _None of it good, but none-the-less he has spoken of you two._

“My wife and I are quite chuffed that you could make it today,” added Timothy. _Oh, how well I lie._

_Mum and Dad actually sound pretty sincere,_ thought Benedict. _This is the type of situation when being an actor comes in handy._

“Our daughter had done nothing but sing your praises,” remarked Neil with a smile. 

_I wish I could say our son has done the same, but we can’t,_ thought Wanda. _He has mentioned what a right bastard you are a few times._

_Our son has cursed you both out_ , thought Timothy. _Especially after last night._

_So far, so good,_ thought Donna. _Only four more hours to go._

Colin Saint James walked right up to Wanda and took her hand in his. Wanda eyed him up and down. He was almost as tall as Timothy, and broadly built with a full head of snow white hair and a neatly trimmed beard. His warm hazel eyes were framed by wire rimmed glasses and sparkled with good humour as he smiled at Wanda.

_My God, Donna never said how handsome and debonair her granddad was. I bet he was a hunk in his younger days!_

“I am utterly humbled to be in the company of such a beautiful and talented woman. It is truly an honour to meet you, Miss. Ventham.” Colin brought her hand up to his lips and gently kissed the back of it. “I have been an admirer of your work for years and have followed your career with great interest.” 

_He reminds me of Sir Richard Attenborough,_ thought Wanda, suddenly feeling warm and almost shy at being the center of attention. _He certainly is charming._

_He’s holding that kiss a bit long, isn’t he?_ Thought Timothy as a prickly feeling formed in his chest. 

Wanda giggled and blushed furiously. “Oh, please call me Wanda. I insist!” 

“Then Wanda it shall be,” smiled Colin as he patted her hand and released it. 

Wanda felt her stomach fill with butterflies, and she felt tingles go straight down to her toes. A man hadn’t made her feel like that in years. 

“Oh, you dear, dear man! I’m utterly speechless!”   

_Well, that’s a first,_ thought Timothy angrily. “Well, it’s a jolly good thing I’m not,” he said curtly as he gestured for Donna and her family to sit down. “Why don’t you all get comfortable, whilst I get us a cocktail.” _Because I for one, could certainly use one after that disgusting arse-kissing display_. 

Benedict did a double take and side-eyed Donna. _Mum’s really eating up the compliments. Donna’s granddad didn’t even acknowledge Dad’s presence, and Dad’s not happy about it. I can sense he didn’t care for the kiss on the hand. I’m not even sure how I feel about it. She is my mother after all!_

_Tim looks miffed, as well as Benedict,_ thought Donna. _Grandpa also blatantly ignored Tim. What in the hell is up with that? Grandpa is one of the most cordial people I know._

“Could I just have a glass of water with no ice?” asked Toni demurely. “I don’t drink this early in the day.” 

_Bloody tea totaller_ , thought Wanda with disgust. _She’s one of those self-righteous types. No drinking before lunch. Now, I see where Donna gets some of her prudishness from._

_Why can’t Mom just make an allowance this one time? Heck, if there’s one thing I’ve learned from the Cumberbatches, its that its okay to have a drink before noon._

Donna poked her mother in the arm as she sat down beside her. “Why don’t you make an exception and throw caution to the wind, Mom? Tim makes fabulous drinks.” 

“Poppycock, Toni! It’s never too early to indulge. This is a special occasion, and I think we could all use with some throwing caution to the wind,” chuckled Colin good-naturedly as he winked at his daughter-in-law. 

“I’m all for throwing caution to the wind!” laughed Wanda. 

“As am I,” agreed Benedict. 

“Lighten up, Darling Dear,” Neil said to his wife, leaning over to pat her knee. “We often have a drink when we go out to brunch.” 

“They don’t serve liquor until after noon back home,” Toni reminded Neil. 

“Then we’ll just put yours off to the side until the clock strikes twelve,” retorted Neil. 

“I could never live in New York,” muttered Benedict under his breath to Donna. 

“I’ll let you know when it’s safe to drink it,” said Donna to her mother, glancing at her watch. “Another ten minutes and it will be officially Cumberbatch Cocktail time.” 

“Very funny, Donna,” said Toni under her breath. 

Colin studied Timothy for a minute before finally addressing him. “So, what are we drinking…um…um…what is your name again? Theodore? No…that wasn’t it. Thaddeus? No. That’s wasn’t it either. Wait! I know. It’s Tom isn’t it?” 

_The old dolt is too taken with my wife to even notice me! Now, he decides I’m worth talking to and can’t even get my bloody name right. Just goes to show you how well he doesn’t pay attention._

“It’s Timothy. I’m fine with Tim, and I thought I’d mix up a batch of Pimms Cup.” 

“Tim makes the best Pimms I’ve ever had,” said Donna. “It’s almost like an alcoholic fruit cup.” 

_Which I hope is especially light on the fruit and extra heavy on the alcohol today,_ thought Benedict. _I feel so on edge._

“Do they always drink this early?” whispered Toni. 

“Yes,” replied Donna. “Just take a sip or two. It’s not going to kill you.” 

“Excuse me for a minute,” said Wanda breezily. “I have a brie baking in the oven, and it should be just about ready. We can’t have drinks without some nibbles.” 

_We could, but then we’d all be off our faces in a hurry,_ thought Benedict. _I sense Mum is trying to hide out in the kitchen and avoid socializing with them._

Benedict raised a hand and motioned Wanda back into her seat. “Sit ye down, Mother. I’ll get it.” 

“Yes, please stay and chat with us, Wanda,” said Toni pleasantly. “We only just got here.” 

“That’s right,” agreed Neil. “The whole point of this visit is to get to know each other - particularly since our children are in a serious relationship.”

"See, I told you she had something baking in the oven," whispered Colin to Donna.

Donna watched as Benedict's head swiveled towards them. _Shit.  He heard.  Now, he knows Grandpa conducted his own tour of the apartment._

“But you don’t know what else to put out, Ben,” began Wanda. 

“I know exactly what to put out, Mother,” said Benedict with finality. “Crackers for the brie, apple slices,  your spiced nuts and I’m sure there must be a plate of biscuits.” 

_Damn! My son knows me well._ “Thank you, Ben,” Wanda said in a defeated voice. 

Donna flashed a worried look at Benedict. _Hurry back, Ben Honey. Please don’t leave me alone with them for too long. I feel like I’m perched on a powder keg._

 

 **********************************************************

  

“Oh, before I forget, I have a little something for you, Wanda,” said Toni reaching into her bag and removing a plastic bag filled with what appeared to be chocolate. “Donna tells me you’re a fellow chocoholic. I hope you’ll enjoy this,” she said handing Wanda the bag.

“Thank you so much, Antonia – or do you prefer…” 

“Everyone calls me Toni, except your son. He prefers Antonia.” 

“That sounds like my Ben. Forever an old soul.” Wanda eagerly untied the ribbon and took a whiff. “Oooo… I adore toffee!” 

“It’s called Wicked Brittle,” explained Toni. “It’s a toffee brittle made with chopped pecans, ancho and chipotle chiles and drizzled with dark chocolate.” 

“Oh my gosh! That is the best brittle ever, Wanda!” exclaimed Donna, eyeing the decadent confection. “It’s made by a chocolatier named Jacques Torres. His flagship store is in DUMBO.” 

“He’s got a shop in Disney World?” asked Wanda. 

“No,” giggled Donna. “DUMBO means down under the Manhattan Bridge overpass. It’s an up and coming area in Brooklyn.” 

Wanda nodded as she anxiously selected a slab from the bag. She then offered the bag to her guests. “Anyone for toffee?” 

Everyone politely declined except for Donna. “I’ll have some!” she said, mouth watering. “I can’t resist any of Jacques Torres’ chocolates.” 

“I have a bag for you back at your apartment,” scolded Toni. “Let Wanda enjoy her gift, Donna!” 

Donna’s face reddened. “You’re right. Sorry for being greedy,” she mumbled. 

_Mom certainly hasn’t lost her touch. She can still manage to embarrass me in under thirty seconds. Crap!_

Wanda started.   _Bloody hell! The mother certainly is a bossy one. Poor Donna is so ashamed. All the poor dear wanted was a taste of the candy. I’ll fix that!_

“I wish you would please reconsider and help me out here, Donna. I can’t eat this whole piece!” said Wanda, breaking it in half and handing a piece to Donna, who smiled at her gratefully. 

_Yes, I can. I can eat the whole bloody bag, but I’ll be a lady and show some restraint,_ thought Wanda as she took a bite. “OHHHHHHHH…this is scrumptious! Mmmmmm! Thank you so much, Toni.” 

_Hmmm…Wanda hasn’t uttered a word to Daddy except ‘pleased to meet you, Neil’, which I know was a bare-faced lie. I must give her credit that she sounded convincing. I guess I should be happy that she’s talking to one of them._

“Where is my gift?” asked Colin suddenly, looking around with a worried expression. “Has anyone seen my shopping bag?” 

“Gift?” echoed Wanda, trying to contain her excitement. 

_He brought me a gift? How sweet of him. I wonder what it is?  Maybe more chocolates!_

“Yes! I had a purple and silver striped shopping bag when I came in,” Colin replied, getting to his feet and scratching his head in bewilderment. “I know I had it when we got here.” 

“I think you set it down when we first came in, Pa,” said Neil. “I bet it’s still in the entrance hall. Let me get it for you.” 

“No! Just stay where you are, Neil. I’ll get it,” said Colin in a terse tone. “This is my gift for giving to Wanda.” 

_Holy Cow! Grandpa rarely speaks to Dad like that when he’s only trying to be nice. He wants to take all the credit for his gift. Dad doesn’t care. He wasn’t trying to upstage him. Carly texted me that it took Grandpa over half an hour to pick it out yesterday._

“And give it you shall, Pa. I think I’ll take this opportunity to use the facilities if that’s okay,” Neil said to Wanda.

Wanda sat stoically, and said nothing. Donna could suddenly feel tension in the air. 

_I do believe Ms. Ventham is giving me the silent treatment_ , thought Neil. 

_Jeez, Wanda! Are you not going to tell Daddy where the bathroom is?_

Wanda sat as if she hadn’t heard a word Neil had uttered.  Donna felt sick again.

_I guess not._

Donna rolled her eyes at Neil. “It’s down the hall, first door on the right, Dad.” 

“Excuse me, ladies. I’ll be right back,” said Colin. 

“Likewise,” added Neil, heading in the opposite direction. 

“My father-in-law is very excited to be here, Wanda,” confided Toni. “He’s been a fan of yours ever since I can remember.” 

Wanda smiled and nodded. “He seems like a lovely man.” 

“That he is,” confirmed Toni. “Colin is one of the best men I’ve ever had the good fortune of meeting. I’m proud to call him my father-in-law. He was a loving and loyal husband to my late mother-in-law, a doting father and the best grandfather and great-grandfather one could hope for. I adore Colin and would do absolutely anything for him.” 

_There is no higher praise one can get from Mom. That was a glowing character endorsement for Grandpa._

The women watched as Colin went into the foyer and quickly returned with the purple and silver striped shopping bag from a florist in Paternoster Square. He reached in and pulled out an orchid plant, which he presented to Wanda with a courtly bow. 

“This is a little something for you, Wanda,” he smiled from ear-to-ear. “A beautiful bloom, for an equally beautiful woman. Hopefully, you’ll remember me fondly whenever you water it.” 

“Thank you so much! How perfectly breathtaking, Colin! I utterly adore orchids. They’re my favourite flower,” gushed Wanda, putting aside the brittle and accepting the potted plant. “You shouldn’t have.” 

“Oh, but I wanted to. Please just accept and enjoy it.” 

Donna caught sight of Benedict and Timothy standing in the archway that led to the kitchen, each holding a tray. Timothy’s face clouded over, and he turned on his heel and disappeared into the kitchen.

 Benedict shrugged in bewilderment at Donna and followed his father back inside the kitchen with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. 

_Oh God! What did I miss? Something has set Dad off. Let the fuckery commence._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Well, I've returned from London; and Hamlet was wonderful! Benedict and company lived up to all the hype. Supposedly, the night we were there, so were his wife and Chiwetel. I did not see anyone. He was mesmerizing and commanded the stage. It was an extraordinary experience. No, we did not do stage door. We've already seen him up close and in person once, so we felt we had already enjoyed our moment. :-D By the way, I thought he looked very handsome and not as gaunt as some made him out to be. There were some guys in the cast who were just as thin or thinner than Benedict is. 
> 
> 2\. While at Kensington Palace and the Orangery, it struck me funny that here I was in the settings for these chapters. There was the bench Tim and Wanda sat on while Donna hid behind the bush so many, many chapters ago. Then there was the bench where Donna has a future confrontation with her parents. I didn't describe the Orangery spot on, but I was close. It was surreal going to all these places that the story takes place in. 
> 
> 3\. If you are ever in New York City, I highly recommend a visit to one of Jacques Torres' chocolate shops. The Wicked Brittle is scrumptious!


	108. Chapter 108

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Cumberbatches Meet the Saint James Family – Part 3. Wanda finally gets her showdown with Neil – Part 1.
> 
> Note: I’ll be using ************ to indicate things happening at the same time.

 

A confused Benedict Cumberbatch found his father stood at the sink, staring blankly at the house next door. Timothy’s face was a mask of fury and his hands were balled into fists at his sides.

“Dad, what’s wrong?” Benedict asked, gently touching the older man’s shoulder. “Talk to me.”

Timothy turned to face his son. “Did you hear how that wanker’s speaking to your mother? What bollocks that man has! How dare he come into my house bearing a gift for my wife!”

_Could I be imagining this? No. I’m not. I do believe Dad’s jealous of Donna’s granddad!_

“Dad, are you…”

“Did you hear the likes of him making such a fuss over her? Kissing her hand and dishing out compliments like a love-struck teenager!”

“I did warn you…”

“And he has the audacity to do this right in front of me – her husband - in my own home!”

“I did warn you that Colin’s a huge fan of Mum’s and has been for a long time. I’m sure he means no harm and…”

“He thinks he can impress her with his expensive exotic gifts!”

“Gift, Dad. Not plural. One little plant is all. It’s common to bring a hostess gift when visiting yes?”

“He brought her a bloody orchid for fucks sake!”

“Yeah, and it looks like a perfectly fine and splendid orchid, and Mum properly thanked him for it just as she should have.”

“She gushed at him like a ninny: Thank you! How perfectly breathtaking, Colin! I utterly adore orchids! They’re my favourite flower,” spat Timothy, mimicking his wife. “Your mother always told me she fancied roses! Bloody motherfucking roses are supposedly her favourite flowers! Yet right in front of me she tells the dick that orchids are her favourite flower. What fresh hell is this?”

_I’ve never seen this side of Dad prior to today. I never pegged him for the jealous type, but I was obviously wrong. He’s jealous as can be!_

“I think Mum was only trying to be nice, Dad.  That's all there is to it.”

“Roses have been your mother’s favourite flower ever since the day I set eyes on her!” continued Timothy in anger. “She never fancied orchids. Even when we got married, she carried a bouquet of red roses.”

“Like I said, Dad, the old boy was only trying to be nice!”

“Shut up, Benedict! You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

_Okay. I will now shut up and let him finish venting. Then I'll give it another go._

“That man is trying to put the moves on your mother!”

Benedict burst out laughing. “Dad! Please stop with the rant! You’re acting like the proverbial jealous husband! Just step back and listen to yourself for a minute!”

“I’m not jealous,” insisted Timothy vehemently.

“Oh, I beg to differ, Dad.”

“How dare you call me jealous! I don’t have a jealous bone in my body. Over the years many men have fawned and flirted with your mother right in front of me, and I never once felt even the slightest twinge of jealousy.”

“Are you quite sure you’re not feeling even a tiny twinge now, Dad?”

“Quite sure!”

“Alright then. I was mistaken. Sorry.” Benedict leaned back against the counter and pretended to study the framed poster of English cheeses across the room whilst he waited patiently for Timothy to come to his senses.

Timothy paused to consider Benedict’s words.   _But you sure as shit are feeling something now, Timothy. Something very unpleasant that makes you want to clip the grandfather around the ears. Could it be because the man is better looking than you are and has charmed the fuck out of your wife? Wanda’s carrying on and giggling like a school girl with a crush. He seems to be a nice enough chap, but the way he looks and treats my woman is wearing on my nerves something fierce._

“I’m not…I’m…just..I’m...” Timothy sputtered and looked at Benedict as realization slowly set in. “Christ on a crutch! You’re right. I’m acting like a jealous husband. Actually, I am a jealous husband.”

Benedict nodded. “Yep. You are indeed. I never thought I would ever see the day when you were jealous of a man paying a bit of attention to Mum.”

Timothy banged his fist on the counter. “What in the hell is wrong with me?”

“The green-eyed monster came to call, and you let him in is all.”

“The funny thing is that I’ve been teasing your mother for years about her fandom. Neither of us has much of one, truth be told. Mine is practically non-existent, compared to hers. I suppose I’m not only immensely proud of her; but a tad envious as well at times. So, I make up for my insecurity by poking fun at her.”

Benedict nodded. “Yes, the snarky comments about the ever-ready supply of head shots and the autograph practice. I caught the dig you threw at her with the costume change remark in the bedroom.”

“I suppose I should stop doing it then. It’s not a very gentlemanly way to treat the woman I love more than life itself.”

“Mum’s mature enough – and secure enough - in her career to realize you’re just taking the piss. It borders on mean-spirited teasing at times, but none-the-less she knows you don’t actually mean it. Mum not only has a terrific sense of humour; but she also knows just how proud you are of her.”

Timothy blinked in surprise.  “Do you really think so then?”

Benedict nodded. “I know for a fact. She’s discussed it with me before. So, you don’t have to stop if you don’t want to.”

“Good. I don’t,” laughed Timothy. “I have way too much fun with it.”

“And please believe me when I tell you that Colin Saint James is in no way a threat to your marriage. He’s simply an overgrown fan boy at heart. Let him enjoy his moment with Mum and soldier on. It’s only for the afternoon, and you probably won’t see him again for a very long time.”

“He’s quite a handsome chap for his age. Very debonair, too. He could pass for posh,” observed Timothy. “Do you know what he does for a living?”

“He’s a retired airline captain. Donna said he worked for the now defunct BOAC, and then transferred to American Airlines when he moved to the States permanently and became an American citizen.”

“That figures - the part about his being an airline pilot. He’s probably had a lot of conquests in the boudoir during his career.”

“I sincerely doubt it, Dad,” laughed Benedict. “Donna always talks about how much Colin misses his late wife. He lost her to cancer when Donna was eighteen, so he’s been alone for a good while. She says he still pines away for her. I will agree that he is a very charismatic and nice-looking guy.”

“He jolly well is, but you can’t begin to understand what I’m feeling.”

“Oh, yes, I do understand what you’re feeling better than you’re giving me credit for!” exclaimed Benedict. “Do you recall when Donna was dating James Rhodes and me at the same time? I was utterly livid when I found out. I was so fucking jealous, I couldn’t see straight! I was a man consumed and my behaviour was a fine example of how not to let it get to you. I was a jealous fool, who had absolutely no reason to be and acted like a complete and total tit.”

Timothy nodded. “Out of the mouths of babes,” he smiled.

“I’m no longer a babe,” laughed Benedict.

“True, true. You’ve grown into a wise man, my son. I hope one day you have a son of your own, who you can turn to and confide in.”

Benedict beamed at his father’s compliment. “You know, Dad, you have one thing that Colin Saint James doesn’t.”

“And what might that be?”

“Mum’s love. He may be kissing her hand, lavishing her with compliments and bringing her flowers, but you’re the man she’s in love with.”

Timothy smiled. “You’re right, Ben.   You know I'm surprised to hear that he sought to be an American citizen.  Do you know why?"

"No.  Donna just mentioned it in passing that Colin and his late wife both became American citizens prior to their starting a family."

"Interesting, but none of my business," declared Timothy.  He clapped Benedict on the back.  "So, shall we serve the drinks and nibbles then? I believe you'll find I’ve really outdone myself with the Pimms this time.”

“What did you do, Dad? Add an extra bottle this time?”

“Now, ask yourself:  am I capable of doing such a cheeky thing?” asked Timothy with a sly grin.

“Ermm…I don't have to ask myself.  I already know the answer. You absolutely would. Without question. They’re not drinkers you know.”

“Such a pity,” sighed Timothy. “Anyway, you can set your mind at ease because there is no way on this earth that I’d waste two bottles of Pimms on the likes of them. However, I did add just a tad more to give it an extra kick.”

Benedict giggled and shook his head.  “Christ!  I bloody well know what your idea of 'just a tad' means. You’re evil, Dad.”

“Yes, I am; so let’s go out there and enjoy my evilness, shall we.”

“I’m as ready as I’ll ever be. Let the bonding of the Cumberbatch and Saint James families begin,” said Benedict.

 

*******************************************************

 

“Here we are! Mum’s famous baked brie,” announced Benedict, as he carried a tray containing a puff pastry-covered wheel of cheese, surrounded by an assortment of crackers and slices of crisp green apples. He set it down on the coffee table and got two dining room chairs for him and Timothy to sit on.

Timothy was right behind his son, and set the tray of fruit-filled drinks on the coffee table as well. Everyone appeared to be interacting and chattering pleasantly with the exception of his wife and Neil Saint James. Wanda was acting as if he weren’t in the room.

_The tension between them is so thick, I could cut it with the cheese knife,_ thought Timothy. _So far, Wanda’s kept her promise and hasn’t said a word about the past and Neil hasn’t either. Could we possibly get through this day unscathed by a row?_

“What a lovely-looking cheese!” Colin exclaimed as he eagerly cut and spread some of the melted, buttery cheese on a cracker.  He popped it in his mouth, chewing and swallowing with obvious relish.  He smacked his lips in approval and beamed at Wanda.  “Oh, yes! Now I see why your son calls it famous. This is the best baked Brie I’ve ever had.”

“It’s the only baked Brie you’ve ever had, Pa,” snickered Neil.

“Well, it’s delicious just the same,” retorted Colin. “Mmmm…have you ever had this, Donna? This is right up your street.”

“No. I haven’t, Grandpa; but I’m dying to try it. What makes your Brie so special, Wanda?” asked Donna, cutting herself a small wedge. “Oh, do I smell fruit? Are those figs?”

“Yes. I slice up some fresh figs and sauté the lot in brown sugar until they’re softened. Then I add in a splash of pure vanilla extract and some slivered almonds for crunch,” replied Wanda. “Then I slather it over the top of the Brie, wrap it up in puff pastry and bake it off.”

Donna watched in horror as Colin sneakily removed his cellphone from his jacket pocket and winked conspiratorially at her.

_Oh, no! Not again with that damn camera! This time he’s going to do it right in front of her._

Benedict felt Timothy elbow him. “Now I’ve seen everything. Colin’s ready to take photos of your mother and the damn cheese.”

_Bloody hell! Dad’s right. He’s going to try and sneak a photo of Mum. I wonder how many he’s taken already that we don’t know about. I knew I was hearing shutter clicks earlier on, but I dismissed it as my over-active imagination.  What a comfort to know my imagination is not in overdrive._

“Just think, I’m eating a pastry-covered Brie made by Wanda Ventham with her own hands,” Colin said in a low voice full of awe to Donna. “Who would of thunk it?”

“Just think. The very same hands that cleaned our loo only this morning,” huffed Timothy under his breath.   He heard Benedict titter beside him.

Wanda caught Benedict biting his lip to keep from laughing. _I wonder what Tim said to Benedict that's so funny?_

“No sneaky photos, please, Grandpa,” pleaded Donna. “ All you have to do is just ask her. Wanda won’t say no. I guarantee it.”

“Wanda, would you mind terribly if I get a photo of you holding the platter?” Colin asked hesitantly, with a shy smile.

“Oh, let me take one of the both of you, Pa, in order to commemorate the occasion!” offered Toni, leaping up to take the cellphone from her father-in-law. “I’m sure Wanda won’t mind.”

“I’m flattered,” blushed Wanda, smoothing down her hair. “Come and sit by me, Colin,” she said, moving over and patting a corner the chair.

_Christ on a crutch! My wife is deluding herself into thinking that she's still as slim as when she played Virginia Lake!_   “Where in the fuck is he going to sit? On her damn lap?” demanded Timothy angrily under his breath.

“Shall I fetch the boxing gloves for later then?” snickered Benedict under his breath to his father. “This way we can commemorate the occasion.”

“Don’t be cheeky, Ben. This isn’t funny.”

“Don’t get your knickers in a twist, Dad! Remember what we talked about in the kitchen. They’re just taking an innocent photo. To be honest I think Mum’s enjoying this as much as Colin is. Let her enjoy the moment...please."

“My father is living his dream today,” explained Neil Saint James quietly. He had come up behind Benedict and Timothy and squatted down just behind their chairs. “It’s not every day Pa gets to meet his idol. Wanda may not be an A-lister; but to my pa, she is. She’s a bonefide movie star in his eyes."

"She's just a jobbing actress," clarified Timothy.

"Yes, and one whose career he has faithfully followed.  Pa has admired your wife’s work for years, Tim. Whenever one of her films or TV shows is playing on BBC America or PBS, you can bet he’ll be tuning in.”

“They broadcast British comedy series every Friday night on PBS, so Grandpa gets the opportunity to view many of his old favorite programs,” whispered Donna. “Growing up, Kenny, Carly and I used to watch with him.”

“Shall I fetch one of Mum’s head shots then?” inquired Benedict, side-eyeing Timothy.  He could see that his father's face has softened a little and felt the knot in his own stomach loosen a bit.

Neil smiled and nodded. “Please do, Ben. Pa would be beside himself, and if Wanda would be gracious enough to personalize and autograph it, he’d be over the moon.”

“They’re in the lower right-hand desk drawer,” Timothy said to Benedict. “Get the black and white one of her with the smouldering come hither look. That’s my personal favourite.”

_Brilliant! This is my golden opportunity to take a quick look in that drawer. The last time Mum came home and almost caught me trying to pick the bloody lock._

“I’ll need the key then. That drawer is locked,” said Benedict nonchalantly.

_Oh, ho! Caught you, son! I told Wanda that unlocking the drawer would flush him out sooner or later. Well done me._

Timothy managed to look confused. “Since when? We never keep that drawer locked.”

“You tell me. The last time I tried, it was locked and I had to…” Benedict stopped as his eyes met Timothy’s, and the guilt washed over him.   _Fuck me. I just admitted I was in a curious mood._

“Tried what?” asked Timothy innocently. “To pick the lock again?”

_We jolly well know when you’ve been playing locksmith, Ben; but it’s ever so lovely whenever you slip up and verify it for us. You’re going to be surprised when you don’t find what you’re looking for._

Neil watched the exchange with growing amusement.  _How interesting. Cumberbatch seems to be every bit as nosy as Donna is. These two are a good match and will make for a very interesting home life._

_Look at the wanker's face.  He thinks this is funny. Now, he’ll be calling me Nosy Cumberbatch. I don't give two shits what he thinks.  He doesn't understand that I'm on to something. Let’s have a look, shall we?_

 

******************************************************

 

“Pick the lock? Me? Hahaha! You just love to take the piss, Dad!”

Benedict laughed nervously as he headed towards the desk. He also noticed Donna’s father had continued to take in the exchange between himself and Timothy in fascination. He crossed the room to the desk and opened the drawer. He glanced back over this shoulder to see his father and Neil deep in conversation whilst Donna was watching Toni set up her shots with Colin and Wanda.

_Okay. Here is the folder with Mum’s headshots.   Let’s see…this must be the one Dad’s referring to. Mum does look very…enticing in this one. Christ. Hmmm… I think I can understand why the middle-aged guys fancy her even now. Ah, here’s the folder where she was supposedly keeping her memoir notes..SHIT! It’s empty…oh…crumpets._

As Benedict was about to shut the drawer, he caught sight of a sheet of paper that was wedged firmly in the crack of the drawer. He pulled, but it wouldn’t come loose.

_I bet it’s hanging out the back…I should just be able to pull it loose from underneath._

Benedict once again glanced back to see that no one was paying attention to him. He bent down underneath the desk and felt with his hand until his fingers touched the sheet of paper. He pulled gently and the paper came loose.

_Now, let’s see what I’ve gotten for my troubles. What the fuck? This is Donna’s CV??? What in the fuck is Mum doing with a copy of Donna’s CV of all things? I think I’ll let Donna answer that question._

Benedict quickly folded the CV and tucked it into his trousers back pocket and shut the desk drawer.

 

*************************************************************

 

Timothy smiled at Neil. “My son has a penchant for snooping. He fancies himself quite the expert at picking locks, but we can always tell when he’s been at it.”

Neil returned the smile and nodded. “My daughter is the same way. Donna has always been insatiably curious about all sorts of things. We’ve taken to calling her Sherlock Holmes when she goes over the top.”

“Ours is dubbed Barrister Ben – for obvious reasons.”

 

**********************************************************

 

 Benedict returned with the specified head shot and handed it to Timothy, who in turn proudly displayed it to Neil.

“Wanda just had these taken last month.”

“She’s still a gorgeous woman,” smiled Neil.

“That she is,” agreed Timothy.

“It’s good that she can still get work at her age – no offense intended. It’s just that when an actress passes a certain age…” Neil allowed his voice to trail off.

Timothy nodded. “I’ve experienced it myself. We found it easier to just say we’re semi-retired when asked and that we’re in between jobs. It somehow takes the sting out of it.”

“As long as you have things to keep yourselves occupied in the interim to alleviate the boredom,” mused Neil.

_Boredom? What boredom? My wife has a flourishing, top-secret second career as the Commander and Master Mind of the Plan. She has a few loyal, hand-picked field agents working for her – one of which you met last night during a super covert operation and another is sitting right beside you. Damn, I’m good at this. I give nothing away to the average person. Barrister Ben, on the other hand, definitely suspects foul play._

"Believe it or not, we actually manage to fill our days quite nicely," quipped Timothy with a secretive smile.

_Now, that I can believe,_ thought Benedict.  _I just wish I knew with what._

 

***********************************************************

 

“There isn’t enough room for two people on that chair,” observed Toni. “Why don’t you move to the couch?”

“I think I can move over a bit more,” said Wanda. “I’m not that big.”

_Yes, you are, Wanda,_ thought Toni.

“To be honest, you are…” began Toni.

“Mom!” said Donna sharply.

Toni and Wanda both outwardly cringed at Donna’s outburst then stared at each other.

_Hopefully,Grandpa will realize that he can’t squish in next to Wanda. He will be tactful where Mom won’t._

Donna made eyes at her grandfather. Colin surveyed the situation and suddenly realized what Donna was trying to convey.

“I think Toni’s right, Wanda. This isn’t going to work. I would never dream of squishing you,” he said getting down on one knee beside the chair. “How’s this, Toni?”

“That’ll work! Why don’t you each hold one side of the platter.”

Wanda leaned over and picked up the platter, as Colin leaned in close enough so their heads were almost touching.

“Okay. Lean in a little more, Pa. Yes, that’s perfect. Now smile,” instructed Toni. “Perfect!” She showed Wanda and Colin the photo.

“You’re a brilliant photographer, Toni!” exclaimed Wanda. “I think I might have to ask you to take my next head shot.”

“You look like a young starlet, Wanda,” gushed Colin.

“Toni’s an amateur photographer,” declared Neil with obvious pride. “One of her many hobbies.”

“Mom envisions herself as the next Annie Liebovitz,” giggled Donna.

“I took a night course with my daughter-in-law, Scarlett; and it’s really paid off,” explained Toni. “Our photos are so much better now. How about we take one more, only standing this time.”

Colin held out his hand and helped Wanda to her feet. They stood side-by-side.

“No. That’s too stiff-looking,” said Toni, shaking her head. “Stand prom style.”

Benedict and Timothy exchanged amused glances. “Prom style?” repeated Benedict, looking at Donna. “What in the fuck is that?”

“Watch and learn, Ben Honey.”

_I fucking love whenever she calls me that.  I'll never get tired of hearing those words.  Never._

Neil noticed a dreamy look pass over Benedict’s face at his daughter’s words.   _Cumberbatch melts whenever my daughter calls him that. It must be a special pet name, and that’s all I care to know about it._

“Pa, I need you to stand slightly behind Wanda, and hold her elbows.”

“Wanda, give me your best professional smile. Hold your head slightly to the right, with your chin up…just a tiny bit. Excellent! I’m guessing you’ve done this before,” teased Toni. “You’re a great subject!”

“Oh, perhaps one or two times,” laughed Wanda, ice blue eyes sparkling. She followed Toni’s instructions with a slight toss of her head so as to fluff her hair out as other photographers had often told her to do.

“Jesus,” snorted Benedict. “Mum is such a ham! The last time we had a photographer in the flat, I was three and had just come home from hospital after having my tonsils and adenoids out. I remember Mum lying across the back of the couch posing.”

“It’s like having the bloody paparazzis in our flat!” Timothy hissed to Benedict.

“The paps wouldn’t ask permission. They would just snap away,” chuckled Benedict. “You heard Donna’s dad. The old boy is just excited. Let him have his fun.”

“Your mother certainly doesn’t look revolted by the idea,” retorted Timothy. “It’s like seeing my teasing coming to life before my very eyes.”

Donna tugged Benedict’s sleeve in order to get his attention. “I can’t believe our mothers are actually showing signs of getting along,” she said quietly. _Except for the Wanda being fat comment Mom almost made. That would have been bad._

“It’s too good to be true,” whispered Benedict. “Something will go wrong.”

“Let’s hope not. However, I’m the potential stink bomb,” mused Neil, returning to his seat.

_Let’s just hope Wanda doesn’t decide to detonate him after her photo session,_ thought Timothy. _I can tell that she's set on simmer right now.  My wife is biding her time, waiting for an opportunity._

 

********************************************************

 

Antonia Saint James completed taking photos of her father-in-law and Wanda Ventham, after which Wanda had happily personalized and autographed her favourite head shot for a very appreciative and over the moon Colin.

“Anyone fancy a Pimms Cup?” asked Timothy nonchalantly, who had been been sitting patiently in the straight-backed dining room chair with his long legs crossed.  

“Yes, please, Tom,” replied Colin. “I hope you’re a generous one with the liquor.”

“It’s Tim, and no one has ever complained,” snickered Timothy, who cast a glance at an amused Benedict.

“Erm…can I see the photos, Colin,” inquired Benedict, holding out his hand for the older man’s mobile.

Donna made eyes at her grandfather. _Don’t give it to him, Grandpa! He’s going to search for the photos that he knows you took.  I warned you about my honey._

“Here,” said Colin scrolling through the photos. He held the mobile firmly in the palm of his hand. “I think it came out smashing. Toni’s quite the photographer.”

Benedict frowned and squinted. “Erm…I’m having trouble seeing it.”

_No, you’re not, Benedict! You have perfect vision!_ Thought Donna. _You just want to get your hands on Grandpa’s cellphone!_

With that Benedict snatched the mobile from the older man’s hand and studied the screen. “Oh, yes! This _is_ a lovely photo of the two of you.”

“Here you go, Colin,” said Timothy, handing out a drink.

“Can I see, Ben Honey?” Donna asked, smiling sweetly at Benedict. She held out her hand for the cellphone. 

Benedict paid her no mind and licked his lips as if deciding which icons to touch.  Then he looked up at her with a knowing smile on his handsome face.

_Good try, Sweetheart, but I’m not ready to relinquish this mobile just yet._

“Of course,” Benedict said pleasantly.  To Donna's disgust, he only angled the mobile, so she could see the photo. As she made to take it from him, he quickly pulled his hand back and began to scroll through the photos.

_Where in the fuck are the photos? I heard him snapping away._

“Don’t be angry, Ben! Grandpa didn’t mean to. He was just so excited that…”

_Ah, she knows! I bet they’re saved in one of these folders._

Benedict narrowed his eyes at Donna. “What is there for me to be angry about, Love?” He inquired, eyes darting over the folder titles.

“Be quiet, Donna!” hissed Toni under her breath from beside her. “I made a folder and labeled it Carnival Cruise Pics. I put all the photos in there.”

Donna felt a wave of relief wash over her. “You’re the best, Mom!” she whispered back.  Then she saw a triumphant smile begin to spread over Benedict’s handsome face.

_Ah, ha! This folder was created only today! Bad news for the covert photographer, but jolly good for me!_ Thought Benedict as he opened the folder labeled Carnival Cruise Pics.

Donna felt her heart sink as she watched Benedict viewing all the photos of his parents’ apartment. She felt Toni move her leg against hers.

“I have to say, he’d make a good spy,” whispered Toni.

_And he comes by it honestly,_ thought Donna. _You have no idea, Mom. These people could star in their own reality show about a family of spies._

“Your drink, Sweetheart,” said Benedict, holding out a glass to her.

_Oh, oh. That was the I’m-in-trouble-version of sweetheart’._

Their eyes met over the icy, cold beverage. Benedict smiled and crinkled his nose at her, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. Then he leaned close enough to whisper in Donna’s ear. She could feel his hot breath on her neck as he spoke.

“I’m not totally oblivious nor am I hard of hearing. Antonia’s guilty of hiding the sneaky photos Colin took of the flat. I also heard him snapping away. That was very cheeky of both of them.”

_Wasn’t it though,_ thought Donna Saint James as she felt Benedict’s large hand pat her knee and give it a squeeze.

“And you allowed it to happen,” he continued. “Did you not think I would notice?”

“Shame on us. We all grossly underestimated the cunning of Barrister Ben.”

"Shame on you all indeed."  _And later on you'll have to tell me what Mum was doing with a copy of your CV._ "So many secrets to keep, so little time."  He flashed a brief smile at Donna and held her gaze for a moment.

Something in Benedict's blue eyes made Donna feel as if an icy hand had gripped her heart. 

_He knows something.  I wonder what?  I can't worry about it now.  My priority is getting through the present.  I'll deal with the future later._

 

**********************************************************

 

As soon as everyone had a drink in hand, Timothy Carlton stood facing the gathering before him.

“I’d like to propose a toast to our adored children, Benedict and Donna. May their present happiness evolve into a bright future.”

_And may we not have to set eyes on any of you again until the wedding,_ thought Timothy.

_What a nice, simple toast,_ thought Donna. _Tim is very classy._

Benedict winked at his father. _Well done, Dad. Now, let’s drink up and get the hell out of here before someone says something to set off a row._

Neil also got to his feet and came to stand beside Timothy, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Let us also drink to the future uniting of our two families into one, as it is our children’s love for each other that has brought us together here today...”

_That love has been a mixed blessing in this case,_ thought Wanda. _And I only have myself to blame. I never would have guessed in my wildest dreams that one day this right bastard would be standing in my lounge, proposing a toast to our becoming a family._

_The Commander looks less than happy right now,_ thought Timothy.

“… May this be the first of many gatherings! Cheers!”

“Cheers,” echoed everyone as glasses clinked together.

Benedict and Timothy side-eyed each other as they watched Neil, Toni and Colin take a sip of their drinks and immediately begin to cough and sputter. The two men quickly suppressed satisfied grins.

_Hahaha! These people are not seasoned drinkers!_ Benedict smiled smugly at Timothy, who winked at his son.

_Well, well. Just as I suspected – they’re sodding wimps. We could drink them all under the table,_ thought Timothy with satisfaction as he downed a third of his drink and smacked his lips.

“Oh, my! Are the drinks too strong for you?” asked Wanda with feigned concern.

Benedict hid his smirk the best he could. _Mum is too funny.She knows damned well they are – for them anyway._

“Holy Christ!” rasped Toni, coughing. “My throat is burning!”

“I told you to just take a tiny sip!” exclaimed Donna. “The same thing happened to me the first time I was here.”

“I did take a tiny sip,” croaked Toni. “How much frigging liquor did he put in these?”

“Usually a whole bottle of Pimms,” replied Donna.

“Shit on toast, this drink sure does pack a wallop,” declared Neil, coughing.  _I'd love to see his monthly liquor bill._

“Well, done, Tim!” exclaimed Colin, also coughing. “It’s been awhile; but this is a properly made Pimms!”

Neil patted Toni on the back. “Are you alright, Dear?”

“I’ve never had such a strong drink in my life,” Toni rasped. “I need some water.”

Donna jumped to her feet. “I’ll be right back with some for both of you.”

Neil cleared this throat and sputtered again. “That’s one potent drink you mix there, Tim.”

“Thank you,” smiled Timothy proudly. “It’s paramount that you can taste the liquor.”

"There's nothing worse than a diluted drink," added Wanda, suppressing a smile.  "Don't you agree?"

“I assure you that I can taste it,” retorted Toni. “That’s all I can taste.”

“Brilliant!” said Benedict, grinning at Timothy over her head. “As Colin put it, that’s how a proper drink should taste.” He raised his glass to his father and drank. "To our resident mixologist!  Well done you, Dad."

“There’s nothing worse than a drink that tastes like fairy pee,” laughed Colin, taking another sip. “Oh, this is good stuff!” He smacked his lips in satisfaction.

“What’s fairy pee?” asked Toni, spreading some of the Brie onto a sesame cracker.

“It’s a term sometimes used over here to refer to a drink that’s light on the booze,” translated Neil. “Which this is not by any standard.”

Timothy snickered. “When my son mixes a drink, it tends to be of the fairy pee variety.”

“Thanks for the high praise, Dad,” scoffed Benedict.

“Did you put in the whole bloody bottle?” Colin asked Timothy.

Timothy smiled even wider and nodded. “But of course. Is there any other way to make a proper Pimms Cup?”

“No,” laughed Colin, slapping his knee. “You can mix me a drink any day, Tim.” He took a healthy swallow of his drink.

_Jolly good. Colin and Dad are talking now,_ thought Benedict with relief. _They’re bonding over booze._

Donna came running back in with two glasses of water, which she handed off to her mother and father. Benedict cast an appraising eye at her.

“That was quick. How did you know where we keep the glasses?”

Donna froze and stared across the room at Wanda, who had immediately stopped talking with Toni in order to listen to what was going on.

_Damn! I’m busted. I can’t say these were in the glass-fronted cabinets because they weren’t. Yes, Ben. I’ve been here before to show your mother how to make handmade pasta while we were discussing the Plan and know where everything is._

Donna licked her lips and smiled at Benedict. “Dumb luck, I guess. I just opened the first cabinet in sight, and there they were.”

“The first cabinet serves as the pantry for the tinned and boxed food.”

_Time to rescue Donna and shut down Barrister Ben,_ thought Wanda.

“By the way, Donna, I was able to duplicate that recipe from the Blackberry Bramble Inn for cinnamon rolls,” interrupted Wanda. “I’ve saved some for you to take home.  You can come back to the flat after tea to collect them before you go home.”

“How did they come out?” asked Donna excitedly. “I never thought they’d part with the recipe, did you?”

“The pastry chef was familiar with my work,” laughed Wanda. “All it took was an autograph.”

“They were good, but not quite as good as the ones we had that morning,” added Timothy. “I told Wanda he must have omitted something from the recipe on purpose.”

Benedict raised an eyebrow at his parents and Donna. _Why do I have a feeling they had those cinnamon rolls together that morning?_ “So you first had these cinnamon rolls together then? When was this?”

Benedict watched in disbelief as his mother totally ignored his question, rose from her chair and beckoned to the Saint James family to accompany her.

“Let me show you the rest of the flat and our roof terrace. Tim planted me an utterly brilliant herb garden up there.  Wait until you see it.”

_Oh, we get to see her surveillance point up close,_ laughed Neil to himself. 

Benedict eyed Donna like a vulture stalking its’ prey. “Fancy giving me a hand cleaning this up, Love, whilst Mum gives the flat tour?”

“Sure,” replied Donna in a small voice. _I’m trapped like a rat with Barrister Ben and have no way to escape.  If I say I need the bathroom, he will only follow and wait for me. Sometimes Benedict can be such a bastard._

Timothy fell behind and called out to Donna. “Donna, would you fancy joining us? I’d like to show you the lemon thyme and marjoram that’s ready for harvesting. I’m sure Ben can manage on his own.”

Donna smiled gratefully at Timothy and quickly joined the group. She could feel Benedict’s ice blue eyes on her back as she bypassed Timothy and disappeared into the master bedroom.  "Thank you!" she whispered to Tim as she passed him.  

Benedict stood, arms crossed, glaring at his father. “Is there something you care to tell me, Dad?”

Timothy took a couple of steps and froze.

_My, that’s a loaded question if ever I heard one, but I can handle the likes of Barrister Ben.  I've had years of practice._

“Yes, There is. Donna knows where everything is from the day she came over to show your mother how to make pasta,” declared Timothy, turning back to face Benedict. “See what fun you miss when you’re out and about filming late into the night? And there's no need to sulk that you weren't included because we can't always be counted on to tell you every single thing that goes on.  You know how it is when everyone is so busy running hither, thither and yon.  Other things take priority and these things get forgotten about because they just aren't that important in the grand scope of things - don't you agree? Anyway, court is adjourned, Barrister. Feel free to carry on. We shan’t be long.”

 

 ************************************************************

 

Once the tour of the Cumberbatch flat and roof garden had been completed, Timothy and Wanda had led everyone back downstairs to get ready to head out to Kensington Gardens.

“Ben! It’s time we’ve left,” called out Wanda. “I have to get my handbag and use the loo, so don’t wait for me. I’ll catch up,” she said to the others as she disappeared down the hallway.

“We’ll wait,” said Timothy.

Benedict came out of the kitchen with his mobile pressed to his ear. He motioned to Timothy that they should go on without them. Donna frowned at Benedict and pointed to her watch, which caused him to roll his eyes and cover the mouthpiece of his mobile.

“It’s my agent. He would only ring me on a Sunday if it were of paramount importance. I’ll catch up with you in a minute,” he growled.

“Shall we then?” asked Timothy, heading to the door of the flat. “We can take our time. Meet us in front of the Orangery,” he said to Benedict, who nodded and disappeared into the kitchen.

 

*************************************************************

 

The group had gotten as far as the corner when Donna stopped. “Damn! I forgot my little tin of chocolate mints. I left them on the end table where I was sitting.”

Neil laughed and smacked his forehead. “Well, you aren’t the only forgetful one in the family. I just realized that I left my sunglasses on one of the end tables, too. I’ll get your mints while I’m at it.”

Timothy, Toni and Colin continued walking towards Kensington Palace, chatting away about the area. None of them had noticed that Donna remained behind them, rooted to the spot, eyes glued to her father’s retreating back.

_Oh, no. Daddy’s gone back inside and Wanda’s still in there. Holy shit! I should have gone. What was I thinking? I hope she doesn’t say something to him!   Thank God, Benedict stayed behind to take that phone call! He can prevent an argument or referee it at least. I’d better call and warn him._

Donna tried Benedict’s cellphone, but it went straight to voice mail:

_“This is Benedict Cumberbatch. I can’t take your call at present. Kindly leave your name, number and purpose of your call; and I’ll ring you back.”_

_Damn! He must still be yacking with his agent. Let me text him._

**Dad’s on his way back to the house. He forgot his sunglasses and my mints and cinnamon rolls. Please don’t let them fight! Dxx**

**  
**

*******************************************************

**  
**

“The sunken gardens are lovely this time of year,” said Timothy as he, Toni and Colin strolled towards Kensington Palace. **  
**

Suddenly, Toni stopped and turned around. “We seem to have lost my daughter and husband. Neil went back to the house to get his sunglasses and Donna's mints, but I thought she was right behind us.”

“She probably decided to wait for Neil,” said Colin.

“Should it take that long to go back for sunglasses and candy?” wondered Toni, checking the time.

_No, it shouldn’t take that long,_ thought Timothy worriedly. _Somethings up.  Either Donna stayed behind to warn Benedict or went after the father._

“Oh, dear. I hope there isn’t a confrontation going on,” said Colin.

_So do I,_ thought Timothy. _Wanda promised not to start in with him, but then she promised countless times not to interfere in Ben’s love life; and here we are._

“I doubt it, and even if they were having words, Ben’s still in the flat. He won’t let things get out of hand," said Timothy reassuringly.

_I hope to God I’m right._

 

************************************************************

 

Donna was about to follow the others, when the door to the mews house opened and Benedict came outside, closing the door behind him. He jogged over to Donna and smiled down at her as his text chime went off.

“Have they all gone over then?” he asked, pulling out his mobile.

“Yes, but where’s your mother and Daddy?”

Benedict indicated the direction the group had gone in and frowned in confusion. “No?”

“No! They’re still up in the apartment alone together!”

“They can’t be! I was there and didn’t see either of them.”

“You were in the kitchen on the phone. Your mother went to her room to get her purse and use the bathroom. Dad realized that he had left his sunglasses upstairs and went back to get them, along with my mints that I left behind.”

Benedict ran his hands through his hair.  “Oh, God. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I did.” Donna indicated his cellphone. “Vodafone took their sweet time delivering my text.”

Benedict read the message aloud:

“Dad’s on his way back to the house. He forgot his sunglasses and my mints. Please don’t let them fight!”

“Bloody fucking hell!” muttered Benedict under his breath. “We can’t leave them alone up there! Mum will cease the opportunity to start a row!”

“Exactly and once sufficiently provoked, I can’t promise that Dad will keep his temper.”

“Okay. I’ll go back and act as referee. You catch up with the others,” instructed Benedict, heading back to the flat as fast as he could run.

 

********************************************************

 

 Neil Saint James impatiently rang the doorbell to the mews house one last time before giving up. Neither Benedict nor Wanda had responded to his prior rings.

_For goodness sake, are they both deaf? I’ve been standing here for almost five minutes now. Mr. Important Actor must be still blathering to his agent about God knows what, and she must still be in the bathroom. Should I ring one of the other apartments? I hate bothering people though. I guess I’ll call Donna to text Cumberbatch and tell him to have one of them let me in._

Suddenly, the door to the mews house opened, revealing the first floor occupant, whom Benedict had introduced them to when they first arrived. The woman smiled at Neil.

“Hello, Neil. So, we meet again.”

“I’m afraid I don’t have a key and need to get back inside. I left my sunglasses behind and no one is answering.”

“I thought I heard someone ringing the bell as I was locking up just now. Maybe they’re up on the roof terrace,” she stood aside so Neil could come into the foyer.

“Might you be able to unlock the elevator for me?”

“I wish I could, but I don’t have a key. Only those with access to the flats on the upper floors. Let me go back inside and ring Wanda.”

“No, please don’t trouble yourself. I can take the stairs or do I need a key to access those, too?”

“No. The door to the stairwell is always kept unlocked in case of fire.”

_Makes perfect sense,_ thought Neil.  _You can't gain access via the elevator, but you can from the stairs. Good thing I'm used to stairs._

After bidding the woman a pleasant afternoon, Neil easily mounted the three flights of stairs. He found the door to the Cumberbatch apartment unlocked and let himself inside.

“Hello?” he called out.

There was no response from either Wanda or Benedict.

“Whatever,” said Neil out loud with a shrug. “Let me get what I came for.”

There were his sunglasses lying on the table beside the couch just as he had left them. Donna’s mints were also on the same table. He scooped them up and put them in his pockets. Then as Neil turned to leave, a voice from behind stopped him dead in his tracks.

“Is it true that the letter I wrote you hangs on a wall in your office at the New York Times?”

Neil turned to find Wanda Ventham standing just inside the door way that led from the hallway to the living room. She had apparently come from either her bedroom or the bathroom. He smiled at her and began to recite from memory:

“Mister Saint James, My finishing school lessons dictated that a lady should always properly address correspondence when writing to a male as Dear Mister followed by the surname. However, I always felt that salutation should be reserved for someone you actually know. The term ‘Dear Sir’ is also appropriate; especially for someone you’ve never had the pleasure of meeting. Sadly, in this case, I feel you are neither worthy of the term ‘sir’ nor are you ‘dear’ by any stretch of the imagination.”

“I suppose I have my answer then.”

Neil continued to recite from Wanda’s letter:

“I’m also convinced that actually meeting you would not be a pleasure in any sense of the word. I suppose I must count our paths not crossing as the theatre gods way of showing you mercy; as I surely would have spat upon the likes of you.”

_Hells bells! Did I really write such a snarky letter? It sounds so different when the words are spoken aloud._

“So, Wanda, now that we’ve actually met, do you still want to spit on me?”

Wanda’s still-pretty face slowly reddened as she looked down at her shoes, suddenly embarrassed by those words she had written long ago.

_No wonder he framed it. It sounds like I went off on a bender and wrote a rant. The irate mother coming to the defense of her twenty-six year old son as if he couldn’t fight his own battles. I must have been the laughing stock of the New York Times. I shouldn’t care though…do I? I might – just a little._

“No. Of course not,” she said, feeling a bit flustered.

“Are you absolutely sure then? You were very anxious to back then. I can come closer if you like, so as to be an easy target. It would be a shame if you missed and got spittle on this nice hard-wood floor.”

Wanda threw up her hands and crossed the room to stand before Neil.

“Yes, I’m absolutely sure. My parents raised me to always act the lady, regardless of the circumstances; and my finishing school reinforced those values in me.”

“Now that’s a crock of crap if I ever heard one,” snorted Neil. “A lady did not write that letter nor is one standing before me.”

_I no longer feel whatever it was I was feeling before. How dare he insult me in my own home!_

“My letter was actually quite polite. There was no swearing…”

Neil chortled. “Perhaps your confusing it with another letter you wrote to some other critic who dared to give your son a less-than-stellar review? Shall I refresh your recollection? I do have the entire letter memorized.”

“I have no doubt that you do. There’s no need to recite any more of it. I recall my words with a startling clarity.”

“Then you can hardly call it polite.”

“At least I didn’t use any swear words.”

“No, you didn’t. You’re a credit to your finishing school teacher.”

“That was rather snarky.”

“I prefer to call it sarcasm.”

“Call it whatever you fancy then. I still stand behind those words.”

“It really is my favorite nasty fan letter of all time,” smiled Neil. “It deserved a special place on my wall that’s devoted to nasty letters.”

“Do you have many?”

“Nice or nasty ones?”

“Who in their right mind would write you a nice letter?”

“Now, don't look so shocked, Wanda. I've gotten some exceptionally nice letters over the duration of my career. Barbra Streisand, for one. Dustin Hoffman is another. Not everyone hates me you know. Contrary to popular belief, I have given many decent reviews during the course of my career. I recently gave Nathan Lane and Matthew Broderick a stellar review for their work in _The Producers_ – and it had nothing to do with the fact that Broderick’s wife is Donna’s close friend.”

“Donna is friends with Sarah Jessica Parker?”

Neil nodded. “They became acquainted when Donna met Sarah at a Food TV Network event. My daughter Carly had brought Donna along as her plus one.  Then one night soon thereafter, Donna and her then fiancé, Roy, were seated at an adjacent table to the Brodericks at Morimoto’s Restaurant. Donna was in the early stages of her career and was there to do a review, and they got to chatting about the food with Sarah and Matt. Donna wound up enlisting them to help review the dishes, and that was the start of a solid friendship.”

“How many of us adorn your nasty letter wall?”

“There are far too many to keep track of to be honest," replied Neil in an even tone. “As for the nasty letters, I only framed the cream of the crop. You should be honored that you share a wall with the likes of Harrison Ford, Sandra Bullock, Nicholas Cage, Johnny Depp, Morgan Freeman, Demi Moore, Bruce Willis, Jennifer Aniston, Sean Connery, Meryl Streep…”

“Meryl Streep?”

“I take it you didn’t catch her caterwauling performance in _Mama Mia_.”

“No. I haven’t.”

“I’ll have Donna email you a copy of the review. That movie was one of the worst things I’ve ever seen. The only reason I could imagine Meryl accepting such a role is that she needed the money to seed one of her kid’s college funds. She thought I was nit-picking her performance. The woman can’t carry a tune if her life depended upon it. Not even the best vocal coach could get a passable performance out of her. It was an embarrassment.”

_I can’t believe he gave Meryl Streep a bad review…and Sean Connery for fucks sake!_

“So, her letter made your nasty wall,” said Wanda pensively.

Neil smirked. “That it did, but it didn’t have the spunk and sincerity that yours did, Wanda. Not one of those letters can hold a candle to yours.”

“Am I to take that as a compliment then?”

“Absolutely. You know you would have fared better as a writer than as an actress.” _  
_

_The wanker doesn’t seem to think I’m much of an actress.  
_

“Are you insinuating that I’m a rubbish actress yes?”

Neil shook his head. “I never insinuate anything. I always say exactly what I think, and in my learned opinion you are a passable actress. Let’s face it, Wanda, neither you nor Tim were ever destined for stardom; however…”

“We couldn’t have been _that_ terrible. I had to turn down an invitation to join the Royal Shakespeare Company.”

“Really? I’m impressed. They don’t hand out those invites to just anyone. Why didn’t you accept it?”

“I was pregnant with my daughter, Tracy.”

“Sorry it didn’t work out for you.”

“I have no regrets, Neil. Tim and I have managed to get interesting and varied work all these years, and I’d like to point out to you that we’re both _still_ working actors,” huffed Wanda with a toss of her head.

Neither of them heard the door to the flat open and close again.

“Your work is adequate, bordering on good at times for jobbing actors. What I wanted to point out is that your real talents lie in the written word, rather than the spoken one.”

“You got all that from one letter?”

Neil nodded. “Oh, yes. I even showed it to our literary critics, and both of them agreed that you displayed a talent for writing.”

“Bloody hell! I’ve been panned by the New York Times’ Chief Entertainment Critic and praised by their literary ones. Not many people can say that.”

“Mum is considering writing her memoirs,” piped up an out of breath Benedict as he came to join them. “Whatever became of them by the way?”

_I thought he was still here,_ thought Neil. _He’s winded as if he were running. It seems like he must have left while I was taking the stairs, and then came back. My money says Donna sent him back to check up on us._

_For fucks sake! Just when this conversation was getting interesting, and they dispatch Barrister Ben to check up on me. It had to have been Donna who sent him. The memoirs? Oh, fuck me! I almost forgot about that cover._

“I’m still in negotiations with the publisher,” replied Wanda matter of factly. She could see that Neil’s curiosity was piqued by her son’s words.

“Well, that is a book I would pay to read,” said Neil. “You mustn’t allow them to use a ghost writer, Wanda, as you’re certainly up to the task of doing all the writing yourself. I’d insist on just having a proofreader and editor if this comes to fruition.”

“Maybe Antonia can look over the contract, Mum,” suggested Benedict. “She does specialize in entertainment contracts.”

_She can’t because there isn’t a bloody contract to look over, Benedict! Just as there isn’t even a bloody book in the works! Oh, what I tangled web I weave._

“I’m sure Toni would be delighted to give her inputs,” agreed Neil. “You can also count on Pa buying the first copy.”

_It’s time to change the subject and get back to the heart of the matter. This bastard didn’t do right by my Benedict all those years ago, and he needs to understand that!_

“You father is a lovely man,” declared Wanda. “I wish I could say the same for you!”

“Mother!” bellowed Benedict, taking a step closer to them. “You gave us your word you wouldn’t start anything, yet here you are firing off the first shot – and right in front of me no less! Neil’s said nothing to provoke an attack that I could hear.”

_I wonder how long he’s been eavesdropping,_ thought Neil. _I never heard him come in._

_Apparently, Barrister Ben hasn’t been around too long. He only seems to have heard a snippet of our conversation._

Neil raised a hand to silence Benedict. “Let your mother have her say, Ben. She obviously has a lot of pent up hostility towards me, and it would be best for all concerned if we could discuss it intelligently and calmly so we can move on.”

“Oh, there’s a lot you don’t know about Mum’s legendary temper,” began Benedict, running his hand through his hair.

_Oh, you don’t know what you say, Neil. Hell hath no fury like Mum scorned, bless her. She’s been waiting for the opportunity to dress you down for years now, and you're handing it to her on a silver platter._

_My son needs to remove himself from the premises. Now._

“The door is behind you, Benedict. Please close it on your way out,” said Wanda, impatience mounting. “And don’t try sneaking back in, I know all your tricks.”

“I really think you’d both be better served if I stay and…erm…well…”

“Referee?” asked Wanda, glaring at Benedict. “I don’t think so. I have something to say to Neil; and I’d prefer to do it in private…without your interfering.”

“Wanda and I are both adults capable of expressing our opinions calmly,” added Neil. “No one’s going to do any shouting.”

_Oh, you could not be more wrong, Neil. Mum looks like she’s about to explode. There’s no way I’m leaving. Besides, Donna would not be happy if I left them alone. She’s counting on me to prevent a blowup if at all possible._

Benedict crossed the room and plopped into the closest armchair. He crossed his legs and rubbed his thigh furiously while looking from his mother to Neil.

“As you were then. I promise that I won’t say anything. You’ll never even notice me. I’ll just sit here and….”

“And you’ll do nothing of the sort, Benedict Timothy Carlton Cumberbatch!” snapped Wanda, all patience gone by the wayside. “You need to vacate this flat now and catch up with the others. We’ll sort this out for ourselves sans an audience. You can have a nice putter around the sunken garden in the meantime.”

Benedict looked at his watch and tapped it. “We have a booking at the Orangery for tea in less than an hour.”

“Since when has being late ever bothered you?” scoffed Wanda.

“We need to get this sorted out quickly,” continued Benedict.

“Neil and I need to sort this out in our own good time. You need to join Donna and her family and act the attentive host.”

“The Orangery won’t hold our table. Everyone has to be there.”

“If we’re still not at the Orangery at the appointed time, check us in and start without us if they won’t hold the table. Your father has the booking confirmation. Off you go then.”

“But I promised Donna…”

_And neither of them give a damn what Donna wants or anyone else for that matter. They want me to leave._

Benedict looked helplessly from his mother to Neil, who waved towards the entrance hall as an indication that he should leave.

“So, if you’ll excuse us, Ben, your mother and I have some clearing of the air to do.”

“But Mum…”

“Please leave us alone, Ben. I promise it won’t come to fisticuffs.”

“We’ll be fine,” added Neil. “It will be a perfectly civil conversation.”

_A lot you don’t know,_ thought Benedict miserably as he left the flat.  _What in the hell am I going to tell Donna?_

 

**********************************************************

 

“You mean to tell me that you left them alone?” cried an exasperated Donna Saint James. “I can’t believe you did that after everything we discussed! I bet they’re going at it as we speak.”

“As you speak,” retorted Benedict. “You haven’t stopped to take a breath and allow me to properly explain what happened.”

Benedict, Donna and Timothy were standing before the same clump of evergreen bushes in which Donna had hidden in just a few months ago in order to spy on Wanda and Timothy.

Donna opened and closed her mouth. “Sorry. You have the floor,” she said grudgingly while tapping her foot impatiently.

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck. “There was nothing I could do, Donna. They both insisted I leave them so they could sort things out - without an audience – as Mum put it. They were both quite insistent that I leave.”

“Are you crazy? They need someone to keep them from arguing,” insisted Donna. “You should have stayed put in the hallway and listened.”

“Erm…your father followed me to the lift and made sure I got on it. When I got outside, there was Mum up on the balcony waiting for me to leave.”

“You could have doubled back.”

“No, I couldn’t have. They would have heard me come back. You can hear the lift motor when there is no background noise in the lounge.”

“I never heard the elevator when I was there.”

“That’s because you don’t know what to listen for. It’s barely discernible – true; but if you’ve lived there as long as we have…”

“You could have taken the stairs.”

“Please – and I say this with nothing but love and respect – sod off, Donna, for fucks sake. Know when to stop beating a dead horse! Let them be at this point.”

“I think I’m going to have to side with Ben this time,” said Timothy, who was finally able to get a word in. “Whatever happens, happens.”

“Where are Wanda and Neil?” inquired Toni, who had been admiring the roses with Colin. “Isn’t it almost time for our reservation? I’m really looking forward to this.”

“Benedict left them back at the apartment in the midst of a showdown!” exclaimed Donna, angrily. “That was just what you went back to prevent,” she added, glaring at Benedict.

“I told you already. They weren’t giving me a choice. They practically tossed me out on my ear,” said Benedict defensively thru gritted teeth. He looked at Timothy. “You know how it is once the Wanda Express gets going.”

“I’m afraid Benedict’s right, Donna; so please don’t be cross with him. It’s inevitable that Wanda was going to have her say come hell or high water,” sighed Timothy. “I think we were all deluding ourselves to think that she wasn’t going to dress him down. I just hope she doesn’t do it as loudly as possible. I hope to hell the windows are closed.”

“They were all shut in the lounge and kitchen,” confirmed Benedict.

“I don’t understand why your mother just can’t forget the whole thing!” chimed in Toni. “Actors don’t always get good reviews, yet they learn to live with it.”

“We already discussed this at length, Mother,” snarled Donna. “Wanda doesn’t want to let it go. She’s hell bent on telling Daddy off.”

“I think we’ve got just enough time to pop into the palace and view the Princess Diana Exhibit,” suggested Timothy. “Shall we?”

“Yes! I haven’t seen it yet,” replied Toni. “It’ll be my treat.”

Colin nodded affirmatively. “Lead on, Tim. I’m done with puttering amongst the blooms. If you’ve seen one bush, you’ve seen them all.”

“Christ,” Benedict whispered to Donna. “How was that for a cheeky double entendre?”

“Believe me. Grandpa had no idea that your dirty mind was going to pick up on that.”

“And what does that say about you then?” giggled Benedict.

“That you are a very bad influence on me.”

Benedict gave her a smug smile and kissed her soundly on the cheek. “That’s why I love you so much. You’re easily influenced.”

“I’ll wait here for Dad and Wanda,” offered Donna, looking in the direction Benedict had come from.

“No, you won’t. You’re coming with us.” Benedict took Donna by the arm and guided her towards the path leading to the palace.

“Great. How can you relax and enjoy the exhibit while our parents are back at the apartment killing each other?”

“Don’t be silly, Donna. You know damn well that’s not going to happen,” laughed Benedict Cumberbatch nervously.

_I hope._

 

 

 

_ _

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Congratulations to Benedict on receiving his CBE!


	109. Chapter 109

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanda and Neil have their showdown. The Cumberbatch and Saint James Families take afternoon tea at the Orangery. 
> 
> Note: I’ll be using ************ to indicate things happening at the same time. Also, note this is an extra long chapter this week.

 

Neil Saint James sat in the armchair recently vacated by Benedict Cumberbatch, thumbing through a fashion magazine until Wanda returned to the lounge from her post on the balcony. He watched as she shut and locked the sliding glass door behind her.

“Did he finally go?”

Wanda nodded as she pushed her sleeves up over her elbows. “I thought he’d never get to the blasted corner. He kept stopping to tie his shoes in hopes that I’d come back in, so he could double back unnoticed.”

“We’ll give him an ‘A’ for effort,” chuckled Neil. “Donna would have done the same thing.”

“We certainly would have heard him had he tried it. I would have thought after all these years Ben would realize I’m more than familiar with all his tricks. My son has the makings of a good spy.”

_And if Tim were here, he’d say: And he’s a credit to his mum, also known in spy circles as the Commander._

“I’m actually surprised that Donna didn’t show up to do some snooping of her own,” mused Neil. “Though Toni would try and rein her in.”

“That’s why our children get on so well. They share an insatiable nosiness - or as my son fondly refers to it as: curiosity.”

“Well, you know what they say about curiosity and the cat,” laughed Neil.

“Yes,” smiled Wanda. “Curiosity killed the cat.”

_What’s going on here? We’re actually sharing a bit of a giggle._

_Hmmmm…could it be that Ms. Ventham is going to change her tune and back down? Perhaps she realized how ridiculous it is to hold a grudge after all this time._

“Well, let’s hope it doesn’t come to that in their case. Donna still envisions herself as a female Sherlock Holmes. There’s a time and place for tenacity, but my daughter has been known to get carried away. Ben tempers that in her.”

“As she does in him as well,” reflected Wanda. “Tim and I have grown to love Donna, as if she were our own daughter. She’s been brought up properly and loves our Benedict without question. They get on beautifully; as I’m sure you and your wife have witnessed.”

“My wife and I were only saying last night that Donna and Ben seem to be well-suited to each other. They have a great deal in common.”

“Tim and I have also noticed that they share many of the same likes and dislikes.”

“They also have the same solid set of morals and a burning desire to have a future together. Toni and I are well aware that they on the verge of making a life-long commitment.”

_Interesting how he doesn’t say whether or not he likes Benedict. I’m getting the impression that he tolerates my son for the sake of his daughter’s happiness._

“I have a feeling a marriage proposal is imminent,” declared Wanda. “Ben’s said right out that he wants to marry Donna. He’s been over the moon since the day he first met her.”

_Without any intervention from us, thank God._

“My daughter is hopelessly in love with your son, so that should ensure an acceptance of said impending proposal. Then our families will be truly bound together.”

_Just think. Tim and I would be bound together with the likes of Neil Saint James forever. Crikey! An engagement, wedding, family dinners, and holiday, christenings, extended family holidays. We’d be constantly thrown together with them…oh, wait. Oh, I bet he’d invite that prick, Rodney Renfield, to any parties we hold in Benedict and Donna’s honour. Luckily, we’ve got the pond in between us. Now, that’s a comfort…unless they find a way to entice Ben to move to the States. Donna’s often said that she misses New York. If he were to relocate, we’d never see him._

Neil looked directly at Wanda and held her icy blue gaze. Then he raised a subtle eyebrow at her.

“We can’t have bad blood between us, Wanda; especially if our children are to be married one day. How about you say whatever it is that you’ve been holding in all these years?” He sat back and spread his arms. “Go ahead. Give it to me with both barrels. I can take it.”

_Alright then, you right bastard. I can do that. And I can tell Tim and Ben with a clear conscience that he’s the one who invited me to do it. Brilliant!_

“You had absolutely no right whatsoever to give my son those awful, snark-filled reviews that summer!” lashed out Wanda angrily. “He was fresh out of LAMDA and just getting his feet wet!”

“Of course, I did. I had every right. I was there to do a job, not to be nice to actors who were as green as the grass they were performing on.”

“You could have gone easier on him and treated him better than you did. You showed my son no mercy whatsoever, Sir! Why it stated in the program that he was a recent graduate of LAMDA…”

“I must have missed that tidbit when reading the program. Belated congratulations are in order to Ben and all his fellow graduates who made their debuts that summer! Do you realize just how preposterous that sounded, Wanda? I assure you that I show no mercy for Julliard or Lee Strasburg graduates when on my own turf, so why would I show mercy to their London counterparts.”

“You relished lambasting him!” Spat Wanda, eyes flashing with anger.

Neil continued to remain calm. “Had he shown any signs of talent, he would have gotten a good review. I didn’t see any evidence of that at the time,” he said evenly.

“His performance wasn’t as bad as you made it out to be.”

“Then maybe you were at a different show. I was in Regents Park Open Air Theatre that night.”

“Aren’t you the flip one? You know damn well I was there. You could have cut him some slack.”

“Why should I have? Perhaps you can tell me what made him worthy of deserving special treatment from me – a theatre critic from New York who was filling in for the resident London Times critic? And please spare me the - because it was his first time on a professional stage - because that doesn’t wash with me. Was it because he was exhibiting signs of being such a brilliant actor? Was there a spell-binding charisma that I was somehow missing? Or was it simply because he was your son?”

“Some of those things you wrote were beyond snarky.”

“He deserved every sentence, and if I had another opportunity, I assure you that my review would be exactly the same. I wouldn’t change a word of it.”

“You were unnecessarily cruel.”

“Not only was your son as wooden as the set that surrounded him; but your son was unnecessarily unprofessional, which is something I simply cannot forgive. Who leaves in the middle of a performance just because they lose their voice? I was flabbergasted when I heard he took off on his motorcycle before the play even ended. I’ve never seen an actor desert his troupe like he did. If I were the director, I would have fired him the next day for such behavior.”

“It was Benedict’s first time on stage at Regents Park in a professional role. You could have shown a little consideration for his feelings.”

Neil guffawed. “Then your son is in the wrong business if he can’t handle a bad review. As to showing consideration - no way would that ever happen on my watch. I don’t care if it were his first, tenth or one-hundredth time on a stage. I review what I see, and what I saw that night was horrific. Why should I lie to my readers and send them out to see something that isn’t worth their time? If a production is weak, but the cast isn’t – I say so. If a production is strong, but the cast or members of the cast are weak – I say so. Doing that enables the readers to make an informed decision as to whether or not they want to spend their hard-earned money on tickets. Haven’t there been times when a review has influenced your decision to see a movie or a show?”

_Fuck. He’s got me cornered. Who isn’t influenced somewhat by reviews? To be totally honest – and I’ll never admit it to him – there were times when Rodney Renfield’s reviews were spot on – particularly some of the bad ones. I can recall times when Tim and I saw what he had reviewed and came out thinking that the actors or producers deserved the bad reviews._

“Yes, of course there were times,” replied Wanda grudgingly.

“I imagine, from an actor’s viewpoint, that it would be particularly difficult to read your own bad review or one of a friend or family member.”

_And you attacked my sweet Ben!_

“But he lost his voice…”

“Even if Ben hadn’t lost his voice, the audience would have been better served had he remained as part of the scenery…”

“He wasn’t part of the scenery! Ben was trying to be unobtrusive until it was time for him to speak his lines.”

“Forgive me, Wanda, but that’s total and complete bullshit.”

“It was his first time out, for fucks sake! Have you no heart at all?”

“Hmmm…I don’t recall hearing any announcement to the effect that any critics in the audience should take it easy when reviewing Ben Carlton’s performance because this is his first professional stage role. If only I had I known…”

_Cheeky fuck. I’m glad Tim’s not here to witness this. He’d never be able to contain himself as well as I have...so far anyway._

“Everyone deserves a break when they first start out, don’t you agree?” implored Wanda. “Certainly you could tell he was…a bit…inexperienced.”

_Why did I ask him that? I already know the answer._

“No, I don’t agree. The minute an actor or actress takes to the stage or screen, they are fair game for the critics. Can I tell when someone is inexperienced? Oh, yeah. They stick out like a sore thumb. However, by the time Ben got to Regents Park, he had had plenty of experience in school productions at Harrow and Manchester. He had already earned his Master’s Degree at LAMDA and certainly did his share of workshops and performances there. I would have thought the curriculum would have covered such catastrophes as what to do when losing one’s voice in the middle of a performance. It seems they failed him; and if I were him, I would have demanded a refund.”

_Why does everything he’s been saying sound so familiar? OH…I know why!_

“You’re citing lines from that infernal review of yours!” blurted out Wanda.

“And you’re busy citing lines from your letter to me.”

“How lovely to know that you didn’t care that he was ill and lost his voice that night.”

“Wanda. Please. I didn’t fall off the turnip truck yesterday. Your son was not sick per se. What he had was pure and simple stage fright. Even the best actors have succumbed to it at one time or another.”

“My son knows how to behave as part of an ensemble cast. If he said he was ill, then ill he was. Ben wouldn’t’ have made that up. He said he puked when he got home he was so nauseous.”

“They do keep a vomit bucket just off stage when situations like that arise.”

“You were harsh for the sake of being harsh.”

“You know, Wanda, things such as stage fright and bonafide illnesses befall professional actors all the time, and yet they somehow manage to carry on – even if it means bowing to their understudy.”

“Well, there was no choice in Ben’s case. He had no voice. His understudy had to step in.”

“And your son was jealous and angry, which is another reason why he left. He couldn’t bear to see someone else finishing his part that night – and doing a good job of it, too, I might add.”

_Hells bells, could that be? Ben was upset and angry that his understudy had to finish for him? He always maintained that he suddenly came down with the flu…though now that I think about it, he had made a miraculous recovery the next day according to Olivia and was back on stage that night. I remember her saying something about the director coming to call after the show, and I thought how sweet he was to go check up on Ben personally. Now, I’m thinking it was more like he dropped in to give my son a dressing down. I recall Tim mentioning that Ben was actually reprimanded and something about the director threatening to pull him out of the show for that, but I chose to turn a deaf ear at the time. I guess I didn't want to believe that a child of mine would do such an unprofessional thing.  I still don't._

“Indulge me for a minute, Wanda. You and your husband are acting veterans. Surely, you’ve both encountered bouts of illness or forgotten a line or two over the course of your careers. Did either of you ever desert the project you were working on?”

“Of course not! Neither Tim nor I would ever dream of doing such a thing. You soldier on unless the director decides to replace you or rework the filming schedule to accommodate sudden illness.”

“And there you have it. Out of the mouth of a consummate professional.”

There was silence, while Wanda allowed Neil’s words to sink in further.

_I really, truly despise that the wanker is right._

“That night you went to see your son in his first professional stage role. I’m sure you and your husband were proud as could be and were looking forward to nothing but praise and accolades from the critics – even for such a minor role.”

“That we were,” admitted Wanda. “I can still remember how excited Tim and I were. We had seen every performance Ben was ever in whilst at school and knew how good he was. We were so over the moon when he told us he had been hired to do the three plays that summer. We had been anticipating seeing Ben on an actual professional stage for weeks!”

“Unfortunately, things didn’t go his way that night. The way I understand it from Rodney Renfield’s source at the Regent Open Air was that Ben got wind that I was in the audience that night to do the review and got rattled. That accounts for his sudden case of stage fright, which can manifest itself in a number of ways, which I know you and Tim would be familiar with – whether from hearsay or personal experience.”

“That’s why his performance wasn’t up to par…in your opinion.”

“Oh, Wanda, please stop being a mother for a minute and really think about what I’ve been saying. I was there to work that night. Your son was making his professional debut. He found out I was doing the review and developed a nice case of stage fright and lost his voice, so his understudy had to finish. He was humiliated and pissed off, so he decided to go home and lick his wounds.”

“He said he was ill,” insisted Wanda weakly. 

_Give it up, Wanda. You know in your heart that he wasn’t and Neil Saint James is right. Tim said that Ben did deserve the director’s dressing down days later for being unprofessional. To be fair, I did also think it at the time in the back of my mind, but I allowed a mother’s love to cloud my thinking. I will never give Neil Saint James the satisfaction though._

“I’m sure he was. Stage fright is real – it isn’t imagined. These things happen all the time as I’ve said. Bottom line is that his first performance wasn’t his best, and he made a poor decision to leave in the midst of the play. I rarely bother reading the programs until I get home; so I had no idea that it was his debut, nor is that relevant. What was is whether or not he was any good from what I saw. It was a rousing ‘meh’. As for his decision to high tail it out of there before the show was over, yes, I called him out on it, and you – being his doting mother – took it to heart. I can understand that; but to write that letter to me was just ludicrous. Did you honestly think I would print a retraction? Did you think I would feel one bit of remorse?”

“You don’t have to ask those questions. I’ve already gotten my answers long ago. Your silence spoke volumes, Sir.”

“You keep speaking of giving your son a break or cutting him some slack because it was his debut. If I had done that, it would have been a lie; and it would not have done him any favors. All it would have served to do was to bolster his confidence on false pretenses. By giving him the review that I did, I afforded him the opportunity to learn from his mistakes.”

“Humph!” Wanda huffed. “Well, I suppose Ben won’t be able to count on you for good reviews should you become his father-in-law.”

Neil nodded. “Exactly. However, you and Ben have nothing to worry about; as I’m based in New York. It’s Rodney Renfield you have to be concerned with. Rod has recently decided to come out of retirement and resume his position as Chief Entertainment Critic at the London Times. He was getting bored being retired, and they are thrilled to have him back in the saddle.”

“The London acting community will be over the moon to hear that.”

“I’m sure they won’t,” chortled Neil. “Rod knows how loved he isn’t.”

“Just for argument’s sake, if you were to review Ben’s work as his father-in-law, wouldn’t you make an exception?”

“That's a moot point, Wanda, because it would never happen. It would be seen as blatant nepotism; so I wouldn't be the one to review him in the first place."

"What if you were to review him - for argument's sake."

"I don't like to play the 'What If Game', and I'm not here to argue with you."

"For fucks sake, Neil!  It was just a simple question!  I am curious about what you would do if you were in that position."

"This is just plain silly, Wanda!  I just told you.  I wouldn't put myself in that position in the first place."

"How about you indulge me this one time?"

Neil sighed heavily. "There would be no favors – not even for a son-in-law. His work would have to stand on its own merit. If it did, then I would say so. If not...”

“You’d crucify him.”

“Without reservation, but crucify is a very strong word, Wanda. Here’s some food for thought: I’m willing to bet that Ben wouldn’t expect or want me to give him a decent review in order to spare his feelings in order to make him look good.”

_Hells bells! I hate to admit it, but he’s right once again._

“You make a valid point,” said Wanda grudgingly.

“Of course I do. As I said, once you stop thinking like his mother and more like an actor, things become crystal clear," retorted Neil.

"I really hate it that you're _mostly_ right after all this time."

Neil frowned at Wanda. "Mostly?"

"Yes, _mostly_. Part of me will always be reacting as his mother regardless of the situation. A mother's love is very strong and impossible to set aside."

"You must learn to be as impartial as possible when judging his work.  You won't do him any favors by praising work that isn't worthy of it."

"I"m not enjoying this as much as I thought i would."

"You did ask me to indulge you."

"And indulge me you did."

"So, now that you've been indulged, I’ve got a question for you. Did Ben condone your writing that letter to me?”

_Hell, no. He never would have allowed it._

“No. I told him after I had sent it…I believe two or three days had passed.”

“And why didn’t you consult with him?”

“Why in the hell do you think? Because he would have been livid…he was livid that I did such a thing without consulting him.”

_He was hoarse for a week after all the shouting he did. Everyone in Kensington must have heard him that night. Some fucker even called the police to see what the fuss was about._

“We can debate this for hours, Wanda; and you will never get the apology from me that you seek. Now, how about we put what happened back then to bed and move on?”

Wanda didn’t respond. She helped herself to one of her chili chocolate truffles instead, after first offering the dish to Neil, who politely declined. He watched as she slowly unwrapped it and popped the whole thing into her mouth.

“I will say though, for the record, that I’ve since had the opportunity to view some of Ben’s subsequent work; I was pleasantly surprised. Rod and I think that if he continues along the path he’s taken and gets some polishing that his future looks bright. His portrayal of Stephen Hawking was a delight to watch, as well as his George Tessman in _Hedda Gabler_. He was excellent in _TheTurning Point_ as well. He’s displayed amazing growth, developed an excellent work ethic and has unbridled enthusiasm for his craft.”

_Did he just say something positive about Ben’s work? Did he also say that Rodney Renfield also thought his work was steadily improving?_

Wanda blinked and stared at Neil, mouth agape. “All this time I thought you despised Ben.”

“Au contraire, Wanda. I don’t despise your son. Professionally, he’s come a long way since that night in Regent Park. I hope to see him go even farther.”

_Especially being it will also benefit Donna, should Cumberbatch become famous one day._

“That’s encouraging to hear, Neil. I now wait with baited breath for the other shoe to drop.”

Neil chuckled. “Personally, I do think he’s an all-around nice guy. He’s kind, generous to a fault, passionate about his work – definitely naïve at times. He’s certainly well-read and displays above-average intelligence along with a slightly acerbic sense of humor. Donna calls him dorky, which I can see...”

 _So far, not terrible,_ thought Wanda. _But he’s not overly fond of him either. I can tell._

“I find Ben’s been mostly respectful; but…”

_Here it comes. Steel yourself for the onslaught, Wanda._

“…he can be arrogant, a bit manipulative at times...definitely condescending at times and surprisingly shrewd when it comes to protecting and growing his assets. He's ambitious to the point of displaying workaholic overtones, which isn't a half-bad trait for an actor to have as long as he doesn’t forget to carve out enough time for a home life and recreation. What I also see a deep-seated love for my daughter. He is fiercely protective of her and devoted to her, both of which garner major points as far as Toni and I are concerned.”

“Most of that is true about Benedict.”

“All of it is true, Wanda. You’re personally invested in him because you’re his mother. Therefore, you will always have a soft spot for him. I, on the other hand, am not; so it’s easier for me to see him as he really is.”

“I beg to differ. He’s going to be your son-in-law one day. That will make you personally invested.”

“Yes, but in my daughter’s happiness and well-being, not necessarily his.”

“But his happiness and well-being are linked to hers and vice-versa. Doesn’t your state of mind and well-being affect your marriage and relationship with Toni; and subsequently your other family members? You will be personally invested in Benedict by default.”

Neil paused to take in what Wanda had said. He nodded his head slowly and smiled briefly at her.

“And now its my turn to tell you that you are right. You make bonafide points, Wanda. In the grand scheme of things, the important thing is that your son makes my daughter happier than I’ve ever seen her – and that I can surely live with.”

“Likewise. I do understand and appreciate all the points you’ve made here this afternoon, Neil. I don’t agree with all of them, but I suppose you don’t agree with all of mine either.”

“Correct. Do you think we can get over this hump?”

“I’m still miffed about that review and your blog where you called him an arse-named…”

Neil laughed and held up his hand. “It’s okay. You don’t have to recite it to me. I remember what I wrote. His name might be ridiculous and lend itself to a variety of jokes; but it is one people will surely remember, and I told him so. It was a smart move to change it from the forgettable Ben Carlton.”

“I was so cock-sure all those years ago when I wrote that letter that I was doing the right thing…and you know what? I still don’t regret one word,” laughed Wanda. “At least we now know where we stand on the subject. I’ve had my say, you’ve had yours; and I feel much better.”

“Glad to hear it because your letter still brings a smile to my face whenever I see it. Not only was it funny as hell; but it serves to remind me of a mother’s fierce devotion and love for her child. We both love our children, Wanda; and the one thing in common that we do have is that we’ll do whatever we deem necessary to protect them from those wishing to do them harm – real or imagined.”

“True. I was hoping that when the day came for Ben to settle down, that we’d get along with our prospective in-laws,” said Wanda wistfully. “I hope one day you’ll change your mind about him.”

“The way I feel about Ben personally shouldn’t have anything to do with my relationship with you and Tim. I think over time, that we can all learn to peacefully co-exist for the sake of our children’s happiness. So, shall we call a truce and move on as best we can.”

Wanda Ventham consulted her watch and gave Neil Saint James her most sincere smile. “We can certainly try, but I won’t make any promises.”

 

********************************************************

 

Donna Saint James sat at a window table in the Kensington Palace’s Orangery with her mother, grandfather and Benedict. Timothy had gone to use the facilities while they anxiously waited for any kind of news from the mews house.

“I wonder what’s going on,” Donna whispered to Benedict from behind her menu. “They’ve been at it for a long time.”

Benedict pretended to also peruse the menu. “I’m taking that as a positive omen that they are finally sorting things out.”

“That’s what I love about you. You’re the eternal optimist.”

“Someone has to be in this situation, so it might as well be me.”

“Everything on that cake display looks so delicious,” remarked Toni. “I’ve been looking forward to having tea here ever since you told us about it,” she said to Donna.

“Well, that makes her the only one then,” mumbled Benedict sarcastically under his breath.

Donna elbowed him gently. “I can think of one other person who’s very excited to be here, and it has nothing to do with the cake display.”

They both looked over towards Colin, who periodically would crane his neck towards the entrance to the dining room. He appeared to be a bit nervous.

“I really hope they’re not having a row,” Colin fretted. “I’ve been so looking forward to this day,” he added wistfully. “I want nothing to spoil it!”

“See, that makes two,” confirmed Donna.

“I’m sure they’re fine, Pa,” said Toni soothingly. “Sometimes when you get to talking, the time passes very quickly.”

“Or arguing,” muttered Donna.

“I’ve also been eyeing the sweets table,” Benedict said to Toni in an attempt to change the subject. “I can personally vouch for all their cakes being extraordinary.”

Toni laughed. “You really do have quite a sweet tooth, Benedict.”

Benedict nodded. “Yeah, I’ve always fancied sweets…especially your sweet daughter.” He crinkled his nose and smiled at Donna.

“Awww…such a nice thing to tell your bird,” declared Colin. “You’ve got quite the romantic beau on your hands, Donna.”

“I sure do! I’m a very lucky girl, Grandpa! Thank you, Ben Honey. You’re such a sweetie yourself,” said Donna, leaning over to kiss Benedict on the cheek.

“I’m really glad your father’s not here. He’d be rolling his eyes,” laughed Toni. “My husband loves PDA,” she said as an aside to Benedict.

“You could have fooled me,” quipped Benedict.

“Mom was joking,” explained Donna. “Daddy hates when we show a lot of affection in public.”

_I must remember to snog Donna more often in front of Neil._

Benedict felt his mobile vibrate in his pocket. “It seems I have a message,” he said pulling it out. “Please excuse me whilst I read this.”

Donna leaned over impatiently. “Who is it? Is it Wanda?” she asked anxiously.

Benedict nodded as he viewed the text. “It’s Mum. They’re on their way over. She said to order the afternoon champagne tea for seven. She and your dad both fancy the Afternoon Blend Tea. I’m going to wait for them in reception and see what’s keeping Dad. I’ll have an Assam tea with whole milk, not that semi-skimmed shit,” he added with a quick glance at Toni.

“What about Tim? What does he usually drink?”

_In a situation like this: Two fingers of whiskey, but they don’t serve it here._

“Assam. Also with milk.”

_And a side of whiskey, Dad would say if he were here._

“Not a problem. I’ll order,” said Donna as the server materialized, just as soon as Benedict had walked away.

“Good Afternoon, I’m Bernice, and I’ll be taking care of you this afternoon. Welcome to the Orangery!”

Donna stared dumbfounded up at the woman, as she was gripped by panic.

_NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! This can’t be happening. It’s the same woman Wanda, Tim and I had that afternoon we were here for the interview. Shit! I hope she doesn’t remember us._

 

************************************************************

 

Timothy Carlton had just come out of the lavatory when his text alert went off.

_They must be looking for me. Oh, it’s the Commander checking in from the field, bless her. I bet she has instructions for me or needs me to summon the police to bring order._

  **We’re on our way. Order the champagne afternoon tea for seven. Neil and I both fancy the Afternoon Blend Tea with ours. W**

_Ah, there’s nothing like receiving instructions from the Commander via text. The woman is truly masterful when it comes to communicating. Not one bloody word as to whether they sorted out their differences. She did refer to him as ‘Neil’, so I’m going to take that as a positive sign. Unless…oh, no. Here comes Barrister Ben. Perhaps the Commander sent him his own set of instructions, which included coming to fetch me. Why the woman chose to revisit the scene of the crime is beyond me. So many opportunities for something to go awry._

“Dad! What took you so long? I was beginning to worry.”

“These things take time when one has an enlarged prostate.”

“Oh. Yeah. Of course. Sorry,” said Benedict, rubbing the back of his neck. “Have you heard from Mum?”

Timothy nodded. “Yes. She says they are on their way over and to order the full afternoon tea with champagne. I do love how she recklessly goes for the full monty whenever it is I’m paying.”

“She wants to impress Donna’s family.”

“We could have taken them to the Chinese buffet in Chinatown.”

“No. We could not have,” snapped Benedict. “How would that look to the likes of them?”

Timothy thought for a moment. “Impressive. The buffet sets out quite the variety on a Sunday. They even feature all the wonton soup and dim sum you can eat.”

Benedict looked skeptical.  “I don’t recall seeing any dim sum carts when you took me.”

“We took you on a Saturday. Peking Duck is the featured extra on Saturday night. It’s extra, but it’s worth it.”

“For fucks sake!” groaned Benedict. “The buffet looks cheap as shit, Dad. The Orangery is far more impressive.”

_If you fancy crime scenes, then I suppose we’ve come to the right place then._

“No one’s arguing with you, Benedict. The Orangery is as impressive as hell. I just thought that the spread at the buffet was also rather nice.  Your mother and I enjoy going. It's some of the best Cantonese food in London. Simple, well-prepared and...economical at the same time.”

“Her family can get excellent Chinese cuisine in New York, Dad, anytime they fancy it. The buffet would not be a treat for them, trust me. The Orangery is. Mum was right to choose it for our meeting.”

_Says you.  A lot you don't know and hopefully never will._

“Fine. I do see your point,” relented Timothy.

_Sort of. Only you never know what may await us here, which is the problem. What makes it worse is that I can’t tell you about it._

“Did Mum say anything else then?”

“She said to order her and the father the Orangery’s Afternoon Blend of tea.”

“I got the same message from her. Donna’s going to take care of the ordering. I told her you fancy the Assam with milk.”

“Pity they don't serve hard liquor here.  I fancy a double whiskey even more."

_That's Dad, bless him._

"I could certainly use one myself, but neither of us can afford to get pissed today, Dad.  We have no idea what's in store for us."

"Jolly good. Assam it is. Shall we go back inside then?”

“Erm…what I meant, Dad, was do you know whether or not they had an all-out row.”

“No. Did you get any other texts from her?”

“Nope. As I said, I received the same one as you did. Why don’t you ask her if they’ve managed to sort things out between them. I’m dying to know – aren’t you?”

“I suppose.” Timothy quickly typed a text message and sent it to Wanda.   They only had to wait a minute for her response. He angled his mobile so as Benedict could also read the message: **  
**

**Everything’s sorted more or less. W**

“What in the fuck does that mean?” demanded Benedict.

“I don’t know.”

“This is so maddening!”

“Welcome to my world. Your mother has always enjoyed being cryptic when you least want her to be.”

“Try her again.”

“No. _You_ can try her again. I’m done. I realize you’re just as frustrated as I am Ben; and I’m sure Donna’s even more so. Why don’t you stay here and wait for them, whilst I entertain our guests? It’s rude to leave them alone like this.”

“Fine. I don’t mind being the lookout.”

 _I didn’t think you would,_ thought Timothy as he headed into the dining room.

 

********************************************************

 

“Is this your first visit to the Orangery?” Bernice inquired pleasantly.

“Yes,” said Toni. “It’s such a beautiful setting.”

“It’s been an age since I was last here,” replied Colin. “My late wife and I used to come here often whilst we were still living here.”

“I see you’re expecting some more guests,” observed Bernice. “Can I get you something to drink in the meantime?”

“I’ve been authorized to order,” said Donna. “The others will be with us momentarily.”

Bernice smiled and came to stand by Donna’s side. “You look very familiar, Love. Have we met?”

_No! I don’t look familiar at all. I’m very nondescript. Please don’t recognize me._

“Have you been here before?”

_I wonder what would happen if I say no? I’ll get caught in a lie. Mom and Grandpa already know I’ve been here to do a review. That will alert them that something’s not right._

“Yes. Twice now, and everything was wonderful. It’s such an elegant and relaxing atmosphere.”

“What are you ordering?” Toni asked Donna with a slight frown.

“Wanda asked me to order the…”

“Wanda Ventham! Of course! That’s who you were with. I remember now! I was your server that afternoon. It was about…seven or eight months ago. You were sat at the table directly across from this one.”

_Oh joy! Not only does she remember me, but she also knows who Wanda is.  
_

“So, did you get the job then?” Bernice asked Donna in a low voice.

_She thinks Wanda was interviewing me for a job. Jeez Louise, I bet we’re not thinking of the same job title._

Colin and Toni frowned and said in unison: “What job?”

Bernice laughed. “They were sat at that table, and Wanda was conducting an interview. She was so professional about it, too. I remember she was asking you all sorts of questions whenever I came by…about whether you could cook and run a household...about your education and interests. I figured she was interviewing you to be her PA. So, did she make you an offer then?”

_Holy cow! She heard an awful lot, but lucky for me she came to the wrong conclusion. Now, how do I get out of this? Maybe I’m not so lucky after all. Look at Mom’s face. She knows something’s not right. Forever the suspicious lawyer!  
_

“My granddaughter isn’t a PA. She’s a restaurant critic for the London Tribune," clarified Colin. "She recently reviewed the Orangery. The article was called ‘Everything is Still Peachy at the Orangery’. Maybe that’s when you saw her. When she was here doing the review.”

_Thank you, Grandpa, for trying to be helpful. Sound the klaxon. Bernice will now put the kitchen on red alert. Food Critic in the house!!!  
_

“I’m not working today,” Donna added hastily. “So there’s no need to inform the kitchen.”

_Like that’s going to do any good. She’ll still run right back there and tell the Executive Chef. Well, at least everything will come out perfect.  
_

“No. That’s not it. I always can spot a critic a kilometer a way. They always order more food than a body could eat and taste all the different dishes whilst they take notes or speak into one of those recording contraptions. You were just sat there eating and answering her questions all nice and proper like.”

“May I ask how you came to know Wanda Ventham?” asked Colin.

“I don’t actually ‘know’ her, if you get my drift; but I’ve seen her come in with her posh actress friends for tea or lunch every now and then. She socializes with the likes of Judi Dench and Diana Rigg and the darling Una Stubbs, who is a regular here.”

“I never heard of Una Stubbs,” Toni said in a low voice to Donna. “Should I know who she is?”

_Nope. She’s just one of Wanda’s field agents, as Tim calls her. Oh, and yes, Una helped Wanda compose the infamous Craigslist ad, according to Wanda._

“She’s a very old actress friend of Wanda’s and lives in the area. Una has three sons who Ben used to play with. As a matter of fact, she’s going to play Mrs. Hudson in _Sherlock_.”

“That day you were both here was the first time I had the pleasure of actually serving her,” replied Bernice. “Such a dear lady, she is.”

“Well, then. You’re in for a treat because we’re here to take tea with Wanda herself this afternoon!” announced Colin with a huge grin.

“Brilliant! What do you fancy then?” Bernice asked Donna.

“The champagne tea for seven please. Two Assam teas and the rest will be the Afternoon blends.”

“I’ll have skimmed milk, if you have it,” piped up Toni. “And artificial sweetener for the tea.”

“Jolly good. That was easy."

_That's what she thinks.  Mom's not finished yet._

"The milk should be hot, but not scalding," added Toni. 

"Not a problem, Mum."

"And I'd prefer if any sauces or condiments could be served on the side please."

Bernice blinked at Toni.  "The chef doesn't have a heavy hand when it comes to the finger sandwich spreads."

"They _always_ have a heavy hand," countered Toni. "I prefer to add my own."

"I'll ask the chef to make you up a set of plain finger sandwiches then."

"Do they serve the scones at the same time as the pastries and sandwiches?"

"Yes, Mum."

"I prefer my scones to be served warm."

"Oh, they are, Mum.  Nice and warm with Cornish cream and raspberry preserves."

"Well, if I eat my sandwiches first, the scones will get hard and cold."

"Which is why you should eat them first, Toni," said Colin. "They're meant to be eaten first."

Toni began to open her mouth and thought better of it.  She began to refold her napkin on her lap. "I hope the weather is going to hold," she said to no one in particular, clearly embarrassed by her father-in-law's rebuke.

Donna smiled at Colin.  "Thank you, Grandpa," she whispered.  "On behalf of Bernice and myself.  I'm so sorry," she said to Bernice.

"Not a problem, Love.  I've served worse. I’m so sorry that I assumed you were here for a job interview,” Bernice said to Donna in a low voice.

“That’s quite alright,” smiled Donna. “It was easy to make that assumption.”

Donna noticed that Toni was studying her with an intense curiosity. She had not seen Timothy making his way to the table.

_Mom’s getting into lawyer mode. I sense it. I can also tell by her face._

“I remember how nervous you were and all those mishaps you had,” said Bernice. “I felt so sorry for you.”

_Okay. Now I have to say something. Even Grandpa is picking up on this. He and Mom just exchanged looks._

“I wasn’t here for a job interview. Wanda and I were having a get-acquainted tea because I’m dating her son.”

 _Hmmm…sounds like my daughter was being interviewed for something,_ thought Toni.

“Oh, how very, very lovely! No wonder Wanda was asking you all those personal questions. I guess she wanted to make sure that her son was dating someone she approved of. Mothers can be like that sometimes,” she giggled. “I’ll be back in a tic.”

“Thank God, I was never like that,” smirked Toni once Bernice was out of earshot.

 _No, you were ten times worse,_ thought Donna. _Hands down. Just ask Danny Manganero or any of the guys I brought home - except Mr. Perfect Roy._

“That’s because you have a team of investigators at your beck and call to check out all the prospective sons and daughters-in-law,” retorted Colin. “You didn’t need to interview anyone because you already knew everything there was to know about them.”

“Just like you did with Benedict,” added Donna. “You were very thorough, Mom.”

Toni smiled as if it were a compliment. “I make it my business to be informed when it comes to my children.”

“Even if it’s none of your business,” muttered Donna.

“You are my daughter, which makes you my business. I will not sit back and let you get hurt by some jerk…”

 _I think is time for another intervention,_ thought Colin.

“What a special day this has been! It’s not every day I get to see a celebrity’s home; but to take tea with one,” said Colin excitedly. “I’m so over the moon.”

“I count myself a lucky man as I get to take tea with her every day,” laughed Timothy good-naturedly as he stood behind Colin and patted his shoulder. “We just heard from Wanda, and they should be here any minute. Ben’s waiting for them in reception.”

“Why don’t you sit next to me, Tim; so Wanda can sit beside Pa,” suggested Toni.

“It would be my pleasure, Antonia,” said Timothy graciously as he sat in the vacant chair beside Toni. “This way we can have a proper chat.”

Donna sighed inwardly with relief. _This is a prime opportunity for me to excuse myself. I need to find a way to warn Wanda and Tim that the server was suspicious. I’ll simply text Tim and hope he reads it. Wanda’s going to be hard to corner alone – especially with Benedict hanging around out there._

“If you’ll excuse me for a moment, I’ll be right back,” announced Donna.

_I need to find a spot where I can text. If I go into the lobby, Benedict will be there. Wait – that potted orange tree looks like a perfect screen!_

As soon as she was sure she was out of sight of the table, Donna ducked behind the potted orange tree, pulled out her cellphone and texted Timothy:

**Be careful! We have same server as day of interview. Thought W was interviewing me for PA job. Told her it was get acquainted tea as I was dating Ben. D**

It took a minute before he responded:

**Confirmed. I heard enough as I neared table. Keep calm and carry on. TCCC**

_The server’s taken care of. Now I wonder how I’m going to address the issue with Mom. I know as soon as she gets me alone, something is going to be said. Next up, Wanda…I think I’ll text her, too.  
_

Donna’s text chime sounded again. It was Timothy: **  
**

**You might want to relocate to reception. C and A have spotted you behind the orange tree and are suspicious. Signing off now. TCCC**

_Damn! Hiding behind a tree didn’t work for Wanda, and it didn’t work for me. Mom definitely knows Tim and I were just texting back and forth. I’ll have to deal with her later. Next up – Barrister Ben._

 

_**********************************************************_

Benedict Cumberbatch paced the floor of the reception area as he anxiously awaited the arrival of Wanda and Neil. He kept looking at his watch every few seconds and was growing more and more impatient by the minute.

_I really wish they’d get here. I really have to take a wee. How fucking long does it take to walk over here?_

“Hi there, Handsome! Remember me?”

Benedict looked up to see Donna smiling at him. “I thought you were ordering our tea.”

“I did. I figured I come out and keep you company until they get here. The others are all chatting away, perfectly civil, too. Not one cross word has been uttered yet.”

“Give them time,” said Benedict with a grim smile. “We need my mother and your father to act as the catalysts.”

“Let’s hope that won’t be the case. I’m going to try and remain optimistic.”

“Erm…I’m the one who was being optimistic, remember? You were acting as the resident pessimist,” reminded Benedict.

“It looks like we’ve switched roles because you’re suddenly the grumpy one.”

Benedict sighed deeply. “I’m being a realist is all. You weren’t in the flat with them. There was the potential for a full-blown row brewing – and before you say anything more - they tossed me out before I could protest further.”

“Gosh, you really are a Grumpy Gus!”

_My motherfucking bladder is going to burst, which accounts for most of my being stropy. With my luck, they’ll come in whilst I’m voiding at the urinal. I don’t want to miss them!  
_

_He’s not budging. Looks like I’m going to have to take up my post behind the tree again. If they see me, they see me. I’ll just tell them the Tribune was trying to reach me and behind the potted orange tree was the only place I could get decent reception._

“Well, I’ve decided being a pessimist is depressing, so I’m back to being a cockeyed optimist. I guess I’d better go back and sit myself down.”

Benedict ran his hands through his auburn hair in frustration. “Bloody hell! Where _are_ they? I have to take a wee in the worst way.”

_Ah! The restroom gods smile down upon me! He had a Pimms and two glasses of water back at the apartment and barely any food. I guess it went right though him. Excellent timing! I’ll have just enough time to dash off a text to Wanda._

“Go ahead and use the men’s room. I’ll stay put and take them to the table.”

“No! I’ll only be a minute!”

“Shall I take it you want me to tell them they can’t sit down until you’ve finished peeing?”

“I hate when you’re being cheeky, Donna. I really do,” snapped Benedict as he turned on his heel and disappeared into the facilities.

_Thank God! I never thought he’d leave. Now, where in the heck is Wanda? I really need to tell her that the server remembers that afternoon. This was such a bad idea to come here! Let me send her a quick text to beware of the server in case Ben does finish quickly._

 

**********************************************************

 

Wanda Ventham and Neil Saint James found Donna typing furiously on her cellphone in the reception area of the Orangery. As soon as she saw them, she ceased texting and joined them.

“I take it you’re the welcoming committee,” teased Wanda.

“I thought they sent you out to take a head count for survivors,” laughed Neil.

“As you can see, we both remain hale and hearty,” added Wanda.

Neil raised both of his hands palms up. “See for yourself – not battle scars.”

“That’s because there was no battle to speak of,” clarified Wanda. “Everyone can stop worrying. Neil and I were able to sort things out.”

“Who were you just texting, Muffin?” asked Neil.

“Benedict.”

“For heaven’s sake! Is he the welcoming committee?” inquired Wanda, looking towards the dining room.

“He’s the self-imposed welcoming committee,” chuckled Donna. “However, he had to use the men’s room. I figured he’d want to know as soon as you got here.”

“And here he comes now,” announced Neil as Benedict came to join them.

“So, erm…has everything been sorted then?” inquired Benedict, rubbing his hands together.

“You asked me that before, Ben,” scolded Wanda. “How many times are you going to ask the same question? The answer is still the same.”

“Your text said: Everything’s sorted more or less.”

“What does more or less infer?” chimed in Donna. “I thought you just said…”

“We decided that we would have to agree to disagree about what happened back in 2002,” replied Wanda curtly.

Donna frowned. “It doesn’t sound as if anything got resolved to me. How can you…”

“We each had our say, Donna,” interrupted Neil. “The bottom line is that Wanda expects me to apologize to Benedict for that review and blog entry, which I told her I have no intention of ever doing. I stand by my review.”

“I would never have expected you to apologize, Neil,” said Benedict, glaring at Wanda. “Mum had no business writing that letter to you in the first place. Had I gotten wind of it, I would have taken steps to prevent it; but I found out about it after it was sent. I understand now that you were only doing your job.”

“As you were doing yours,” interjected Wanda angrily.

“And in my opinion he didn’t succeed at his that night, which was my prerogative to state,” added Neil. “You’re beating a dead horse, Wanda.”

Benedict looked at Neil and rolled his eyes at Donna. “I see what she meant now about agreeing to disagree.”

Donna’s eyes filled with tears. “I don’t think I can take much more of this constant sniping! I hate it! I just want our families to get along! Is that so much to ask for?”

Benedict put his arms around Donna, and stroked her hair.   “Shhhh…it’s okay, Love. I’m getting the impression that the great row has been put to bed and what we’re left with is a civil stalemate, am I right?”   He looked over her head at Wanda and Neil pointedly with raised eyebrows.

Neil glanced at Wanda, who nodded affirmatively. “Yeah. That sums it up. We will always disagree on that point, but are going to do our best to move on for your sakes.”

"Jolly good then," snarled Benedict. "I trust we won't _ever_ had to hear about this again yes?"

Neil and Wanda both nodded their assent.

"Brilliant because I really didn't feel like going to the chemist for a refill on my ulcer medication."

Wanda approached Donna and lifted her chin in her hand. “Dry those pretty eyes, Love. It’s all fine now. Your father and I actually had quite a nice conversation on the way over.”

Benedict removed a handkerchief from his pocket and gave it to Donna. “Here. Use this.” Donna gratefully accepted it, blotted her eyes and blew her nose.

_I've now blown my nose into all the Cumberbatch men's handkerchief's today._

Wanda looked up at her son. “Can you give Donna and me a minute alone?”

“Yeah. I’ll wait over by the potted orange tree whilst…”

“I think your mother means that we should join the others,” Neil said to Benedict. “Come on.”

Wanda and Donna watched as the two men headed for the dining room.

“Well, I’m glad that’s over with!” exclaimed Wanda. “I do feel better that we each had our say. Your father is as stubborn as I am, but I think we can get along – especially since there’s an ocean between us most of the time.”

Donna smiled. “I’ve grown quite fond of the Atlantic Ocean, and the distance it provides. I’m sorry my parents are such hard-asses. They tend to get carried away with prospective in-laws. They did the same thing to the Ciprianos and to Scarlett’s parents.”

“And do they all get along now?”

“Scarlett’s parents live in Virginia, so there isn’t too much contact. However, they are quite fond of them and have gone down to visit them on occasion. Her dad’s a U.S. Senator and her mother is one of the White House florists. Steve’s parents live across the street from Carly and I, so there is a lot of contact with them. They love the Ciprianos and socialize with them fairly often.”

“Your parents aren’t horrible people, Donna. They love you very much and are being over-protective, which is something I’m equally guilty of. Tim, Ben and I have never experienced such over-the-top methods for checking out the prospective husband and in-laws. When we met Derrick’s family, it was just over cocktails and dinner at a restaurant in London. And when we met the Poulets, it was over Sunday lunch at my flat.”

“I wish they would back off and let me make my own mistakes – if I’m going to make any. I’m really sorry for everything, Wanda. Benedict and I are in full agreement that we don’t want the constant friction between our families, nor will we let it come between us.”

“Your parents will just take some getting used to. I think there will always be some friction between your father and me; but we’re not going to have any full-blown rows. He’s actually said some complimentary things about Ben.”

“He doesn’t hate Benedict,” affirmed Donna. _But he doesn’t love him either._ _He tolerates him because of me.  
_

“But Ben is not his first choice for a son-in-law, nor your mother’s I suspect.”

“No. Roy Takahaski was. He was their gold standard, but he wasn’t mine. Benedict is mine.”

Wanda smiled warmly at Donna. “I’m chuffed to hear that. Now that we’ve conquered that hurdle, let’s revisit the scene of the crime – as Tim keeps calling it -  and have our tea.”

“It’s funny you should say that, Wanda. About visiting the scene of the crime…”

Wanda stopped dead in her tracks. “Hells bells! What do you mean?”

Donna glanced around and lowered her voice. “Our server just happens to be the same woman who took care of us when I met you here for the daughter-in-law interview. She recognized me.”

“Are you sure it was the same woman?”

“Oh, yeah. She had salt and pepper hair, and she remembers my unfortunate mishaps of the afternoon. She definitely knows who you are.”

“Well, my friends and I have taken tea and lunch here; and some of them are much more famous than I could ever hope to be – so we’d definitely stick out.”

“When she asked me if I had gotten the job, I knew we were in trouble.”

Wanda looked horrified. “Bollocks! This, we did not need!”

“I think it’s okay. She did hear a lot of our conversation. However, she was under the impression that you were interviewing me for a job as your _personal assistant_.”

“Oh, that’s a relief! What did you tell her?”

“I simply told her that I was dating your son, and it was a get acquainted meeting. By telling her that, it explained most of the questions that were of a more personal nature. Luckily, she bought it.”

“Well done, you! Tim will promote you to Senior Field Agent,” laughed Wanda. “Let’s go have our tea then. I’ve an appetite.”

Donna glanced towards the dining room, as she reached out to pull Wanda back closer to her.

“Unfortunately, I don’t think my mother and grandpa bought it. They kept giving me odd looks. Actually, I know my mom didn’t believe one word I uttered. She had that look she gets when she’s preparing to go to court for a trial.”

Wanda gave Donna’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “I honestly don’t think your mum or granddad thought anything of it. We’re extra sensitive to these things because of the secret we have to keep. You seemed to explain things to the server’s satisfaction. What you said did make perfect sense. I wouldn’t give it another thought.”

“I really, _really_ hope so,” said Donna with a grim smile as she trudged after Wanda into the dining room. _I hope you’re right, Wanda; but only time will tell on that front.  
_

“And make sure to use those acting chops of yours and smile!” chided Wanda, looking back over her shoulder. “You look like you’re walking to the block outside the Tower of London!”

“That’s because I feel as if I am,” muttered Donna.

“Watch and learn how it’s done!” instructed Wanda as she swept into the dining room and towards the table.   She smiled widely as she came to stand behind the empty seat that was in between Colin and Timothy. “So sorry to have made you all wait! Would you mind terribly if I sit here?” she said to Colin, fluttering her eyelashes at him.

“Of course not. Please do!” smiled Colin. “I was just telling Ben here about the oddest conversation Donna had with our server.”

Donna uneasily plopped down in the empty chair that was in between Benedict and her grandfather. She felt Toni’s eyes on her, but refused to meet her gaze. Benedict was studying her with an unmasked curiosity. He raised a quizzical eyebrow at her.

“That was quite an interesting anecdote,” mused Benedict. “And how lucky were we that Bernice took the time to fill us in on all the little mishaps that took place that afternoon whilst she was pouring the champagne…that I knew nothing about apparently.”

_Donna was the girl who spilled the pastries on Dad that time…I love how everything is starting to fall into place._

“I actually enjoyed the part about the flying pastries,” laughed Neil. “Poor Tim was the innocent victim, just sitting there and minding his own business.”

Wanda suddenly didn't look quite as calm as she had when she came into the room.  She glanced at her husband nervously and then to Donna.  Donna saw Benedict's ice blue eyes taking in their every move.

_Shit! Ben knows for sure now. I’m toast. Tim and Wanda are toast, too._

“Well, we did learn about those brilliant stain removal cloths from that incident,” chuckled Timothy. “They work miracles!”

“I’ll include a box for you in my next shipment,” offered Toni. “We ship them to the girls all the time.”

“That was a corker!” laughed Colin, slapping his thigh. “And poor Wanda with the lemon juice – I know just how much lemon juice smarts in the eye. As you may have guessed, I’ve been sat next to our Donna too many times at tea.”

“Thanks, Grandpa,” cringed Donna. “I thought I was your favorite granddaughter.”

Colin turned towards Donna and patted her hand. Then he lifted it to his lips and planted a gentle kiss on the back of it. “And you are, Lovey - just don’t tell Carly. It’ll be our secret,” he said with a wink.

“That’s because you tell her the same thing about me.”

“Aye. That I do. You know me well, Donna!” Colin then addressed the table. “I love all three of my grandkids equally.”

“And what about my foot?” joined in Wanda, warming to the topic. “I thought for sure that infernal handbag had broken my instep.”

“We’ve all fallen victim to Donna’s handbag at one time or another,” said Toni.

“The damn thing is a menace,” added Neil. "We tell her all the time what a problem it is."

“We’re working on trying to remedy the problem,” assured Benedict.

Donna frowned at Benedict. “We are? And just how are we trying to remedy this problem? Did you break the zipper on my other bag on purpose in an effort to weed them out one-by-one?” she demanded.

“Ermmm…no. Of course not! That was an accident!” exclaimed Benedict indignantly.

"Okay. I believe you," muttered Donna. "The floor is yours, Barrister. Please continue."

“You do take that much smaller bag or no bag at all when we go to the markets now.”

“Wow! I’m impressed, Benedict!” exclaimed Toni. “How in the world did you manage to accomplish that feat?”

Benedict blushed. “Oh, it was nothing really, Antonia. We simply discussed it…” His voice trailed off as he caught sight of Donna glaring at him.

“It’s called blackmail. He threatens to stay home if I bring my regular bag.”

“Jolly good, Benedict! That’s how to handle it. You show real promise,” laughed Colin.

“Oh, here comes the food!” said Neil as two male servers brought four three-tiered servers to the table, laden with tea sandwiches, warm orange-scented and raisin scones along with an assortment of freshly-baked pastries.

“I’m Edward, and I’ll be serving you for the remainder of your tea today. We just had a shift change, and Bernice had to leave for the day. She did ask me to tell you that she enjoyed taking care of your table.”

Donna, Wanda and Timothy all exchanged looks of relief at each other.

 _Thank God!_ Thought Wanda. _This is the best thing that could have happened._

 _Saved by the shift change!_ Thought Donna. _Now we don’t have to worry._

 _The Commander and Donna are rightfully relieved, but I wonder if we’re truly out of the woods yet,_ thought Timothy, sneaking a look at Benedict, who appeared to be absorbed in the finger sandwich selection.

“Which sandwiches do you fancy?” Benedict asked Donna, taking her plate as the stand wasn’t close to her.

“One of each, please. Shall I pour us some tea while you do that?” Donna asked Benedict.

“Only if you promise to use the strainer,” he laughed.

The whole table burst out into laughter.

_How embarrassing! I guess Bernice told them about me not using the strainer that day. I think all my major faux pas have now been covered to everyone’s amusement._

“These sandwiches are delicious,” remarked Toni. “I like that they don’t overdo the mayonnaise in the egg salad.”

Neil laughed. “The mini-bagel is very New York. I wonder why they chose to do that. It reminds me of when the Plaza decided to do a New York-style tea in addition to their regular one.”

“It was meant to be different,” countered Toni. “I thought it was a good idea to offer something unique.”

“It may be unique, but it’s not executed particularly well. I hated the New York tea!” said Donna.

 _Okay. Cross Afternoon Tea at the Plaza Hotel off my list for our engagement weekend,_ thought Benedict. _I’ll make the tea reservation at the Mandarin Oriental instead. They had that special Nutcracker Tea that I can link to our ballet tickets. Steven said the view off their sky lobby was spectacular, so I’ll switch the plan to have drinks there to tea. I’ll have to come up with another place for romantic drinks and starters._

“That was a scathing review you did of it, too,” declared Colin. “I went along with you that afternoon.”

Benedict added two cubes of demerara sugar to his tea and stirred. “Forgive me my curiosity...” he began.

Wanda paused with her cucumber and fresh mint sandwich mid-way to her mouth. She and Donna exchanged anxious glances across the table.

“But I don’t understand why you were sat at a separate table that afternoon, Dad?”

Timothy was serenely sipping his tea and immediately put down his cup and saucer. _Fuck me. I wasn’t expecting the barrister to make an appearance at tea. I also wasn’t expecting to be the one questioned. The Commander – quite possibly. Donna - absolutely. Not me!_

 _Yes, why was Timothy at a separate table?_ Thought Toni, as she nibbled on her Coronation chicken wrap. _I’ve been wanting to ask that myself._ _Hmmm…Donna and Wanda look…anxious…surprised…no, definitely anxious. Timothy looks like he wants to crawl under the table. I sense a conspiracy.  
_

Timothy blotted his lips with his serviette before answering his son . _The curtain goes up on Act Three, Scene One of Preserve the Plan. I can do it. I think I’ll just change the sequence of events and pray that Wanda and Donna follow through.  
_

_Just don’t cock it up, Tim,_ thought Wanda. _This would not be the most opportune time for us to be exposed with Donna’s family sat at the table with us.  
_

Timothy cleared his throat and gestured at the row of tables for two behind them.   “I would think it was perfectly obvious. Your mother and Donna were already sat when I decided to come join them at the last minute. I was filming and things wrapped earlier than expected. The place was packed with tourists, and the only place they could squeeze me in was at an adjacent table.”

“Where was I when this took place?”

“You were in the midst of re-filming the climax of the Miss Marple movie. I remember they had a major rewrite, and the shoot dragged on well into the night,” replied Wanda smoothly. “I just remembered it now.”

 _Okay. Wanda just changed the time line of our meeting,_ thought Donna. _  
_

“I was under the impression that you met Mum for the first time in the hallway of the Blackberry Bramble Inn and then wound up having breakfast together.”

He smiled at Donna and crinkled his nose at her. _  
_

_Holy cow! The nose crinkle and a trick question. He’s trying to catch me in a lie! Oh, Barrister Ben is lying just underneath that adorable exterior. I’m so fucking confused, and Tim just further complicated things.  
_

“I recall you met Dad in a coffee shop with Jimmy…but how did that work again when you met Mum? I’m a bit fuzzy on the exact sequence of events,” said Benedict, looking at the three of them. “Perhaps one of you could clarify things for me.”

 _Something isn’t right with this picture,_ thought Toni. _I think I know what it is, too.  
_

“And this is a prime example of why you’re not always included in things, Barrister Ben,” snapped Wanda. “To use your pet term – my _curiosity_ was piqued after hearing about and seeing Donna at the Inn. I was so over the moon to think that you had finally found the perfect bird to love. The thought that all of our dreams – yours, mine and your father’s - were on the threshold of coming true! I wanted – no, I needed - to know more about her, so I invited her to tea. What’s the crime in that?”

"I don't think it's a crime at all," piped up Colin. "I think that's perfectly normal and lovely, Wanda."

“The crime is that not one of you thought to tell me!” retorted Benedict. “Why on earth would you all hide something like that from me?”

 _Mum’s mucking with the timeline, and Donna’s having trouble keeping abreast of the changes. They are all starting to get tripped up. Well done, me,_ thought Benedict proudly.

 _Yes, why would they?_ Wondered Toni. _I love how my husband is blissfully eating his salmon sandwich and not paying attention to this delightful mystery._

“We were both so busy during that period, we barely saw or spoke to each other for a couple of weeks!” justified Donna. “By the time your schedule calmed down, I had forgotten about it. Gosh, Benedict, you’re making such a big deal out of nothing!”

 _Hmmm...my daughter protests too vehemently,_ thought Toni.

Benedict took a bite of his egg and cress sandwich, keeping his ice-blue eyes glued to Donna’s hazel ones. _Donna has a very selective ‘forget feature’ when she chooses to activate it; and I can see it’s been activated.  
_

_I don’t like when he stares me down like that. It means he’s processing the information and not sure whether or not he’s buying my explanation. I’m thinking he isn’t.  
_

_This goes against the grain. Donna tells me everything – and meeting with Mum and Dad surely qualifies as to something she would have been very excited about. She would have been dying to share all the details with me, except for the more embarrassing ones. For some weird reason, they didn’t want me to know about taking tea together, but thanks to Bernice they had to come forward with this harebrained explanation.  
_

“The truth is, Ben,” piped up Timothy. “Is that you make such a fuss whenever your mother or I inquire about your personal life – especially the dating side of it. We were both excited as fuck to hear that you had found someone and were eager to get to know her better. It seemed the perfect opportunity to invite her to take tea with your mother, so I encouraged her to issue the invite. I can’t tell you how over the moon I was when I realized I was able to join them.”

“I think it’s lovely that you care so much about your son’s happiness,” remarked Colin. “You both have demonstrated to me what caring and loving parents you are.”

“You wax such lovely sentiments, Colin; but I’d like to see if you would find this ‘caring’ quite as endearing if you were in my shoes, _”_ muttered Benedict under his breath. _The proverbial grass always looks greener on the other side of the fence.  
_

“Wanda and Timothy dote on Benedict,” quickly chimed in Donna. “They really do have a close and loving relationship.”

“Except for now,” snapped Benedict. “My mother tends to get carried away in the name of my happiness,” he said to Donna’s family. “And recently, it seems my father has hopped onto that bandwagon.”

“Had you gotten wind of it, you would have gone into a first-rate strop and we really wanted to avoid a confrontation over something we saw as harmless,” continued Wanda. “And don’t tell me you wouldn’t, Benedict Timothy Carlton Cumberbatch.”

 _Christ, that's one long name,_ thought Neil.  _They'll undoubtedly give their children four names...they'll all be something, something Carlton Cumberbatches for sure._

“But it wasn’t harmless, _Mother_ ,” insisted Benedict. “You know damn well how I feel about your going behind my back when it comes to my love life…”

 _I knew Wanda was a first-class meddler_ , thought Neil. _I hope Donna thinks long and hard about getting into bed with them._

 _Something still doesn’t jive_ , thought Toni.

“You kept it hidden from me,” snarled Benedict. “I don’t condone or appreciate that.”

_My honey is boiling. He’s clenching his jaw and trying his best not to explode in front of my family. Holy cow! If we were alone, he’d be shouting by now. I can first fully appreciate why Wanda and Tim want to keep the Plan quiet. And this was only over a little tea…well, it wasn’t just a little tea. It was a big thing._

“And this is exactly why we didn’t tell you,” snapped Timothy. “We did it, and we can’t undo it. We’re sorry if your feelings were hurt. You should be chuffed that your mother and I care about getting along with your girlfriend and made the effort to get to know her in the first place. There is a time to protect your personal life and a time to share it. This was something you needed to share with us. Toni, Neil, Colin – please forgive my son’s cheekiness. He’s let his impending role of Sherlock Holmes go to his head I’m afraid.”

“There’s no need to apologize to us, Tim,” said Colin. “All families have friction at one time or another. As I’ve been sitting here in my role as a spectator, I must say that I can fully understand both sides of this coin.”

_Bloody hell! How horrible we must have sounded to them, bickering like that in public. It’s not a surprise to Donna as she’s already witnessed a couple of these – spirited discussions. God, I really do love that term. Unfortunately, this one was too spirited and would have been better served if saved for when in the privacy of Mum and Dad’s flat._

Benedict felt a pang of guilt wash over him. He realized that he was no longer hungry or quite as angry as he had been. Colin’s words had given him pause.

_Dad’s right. I am getting carried away with this. They know what a pain-in-the-arse I can be when I’m in my ‘quest for knowledge’ mode. Now, Donna’s parents also know how obnoxious I can be. I need to stop doing shit like this before I alienate Donna. She looks like she wants to bolt from the room. The last thing I want is to drive any of them away – with the exception of Neil and Antonia. Friday can’t come soon enough. I need to stop searching for conspiracy motives that probably don’t exist, accept what they’re telling me and have a slice of humble pie._

“Forgive me, Donna.  I'm sorry for ruining today," Benedict began.  He looked at Neil, Toni and Colin. "I apologize for the...inquisition," Benedict said to them. "I was wrong to have you bear witness to my...insatiable...curiosity.  My parents are right in that I do tend to get carried away. Mum, Dad, no offense was ever intended., continued Benedict  meekly. “Please believe me when I say that. I’m being utterly sincere when I say this. I realize your intentions are good and that your hearts are in the right place. I consider myself a lucky man that you care so much about my happiness…”

 _I’m sorry is only two words…yet he’s going to begin one of his heartfelt monologues,_ thought Neil wearily. _I would never, ever, want to interview him!_

 _Brilliant. I hope my son remembers those words should he ever find out about the Plan,_ thought Timothy.

 _Maybe Barrister Ben will finally rest his case_ , thought Wanda. _The Plan remains intact. Thank God!_

“…I honestly do want you both and Donna to get to know each other well. I also want nothing more than for both families to get along. So, let us all agree to bury the hatchet and move on. Here’s to getting along,” Said Benedict, raising his champagne glass with a smile. “Cheers.”

 _But the question still remains: Why did Mum have a copy of Donna's CV? Who brings along a CV to a get acquainted tea unless they are being interviewed,_ thought Benedict Cumberbatch as he sipped his champagne.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I didn't want Wanda and Neil to remain 'at war' indefinitely, but being both are such strong personalities I had them declare a truce when it came to that review of Benedict for the sake of their children. The families will never be best of friends because I find the tension much more interesting to write rather than everyone loving each other to death. Not to mention that not all in-laws get along in real life. 
> 
> 2\. Even though we are getting closer to the reveal, we still have not met one of the major catalysts for it. 
> 
> 3\. Due to the Thanksgiving Holidays this week, the next chapter will be posted on Sunday, December 5th. Happy Thanksgiving to all who celebrate!


	110. Chapter 110

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Neil and Toni become privy to "The Plan" and wind up having a rare disagreement. Timothy does some spying and gives Donna advice. 
> 
> Then we'll have a time jump two weeks into the future: Donna and Carly interview buyer and bookkeeper interns.

 

The Cumberbatch and Saint James families had gathered outside the Orangery after finishing their afternoon tea. Donna and Benedict had been grateful that the remainder of the meal had progressed without further incident. The time had passed surprisingly quickly and had been filled with amusing anecdotes and pleasant conversation.

Benedict had surreptitiously guided Donna away from the group, so he could speak with her privately.

“Who would have thought that earlier today they were practically at each other’s throats?” He whispered in her ear. “They’re actually making dinner plans for later in the week.”

“You weren’t with them the whole time, Benedict. None of us will ever know everything that was said back at your parents’ house.”

“Well, _something_ finally clicked, and they seem to have decided to make the best of a less-than-ideal situation.”

“For the time being they appear to be. However, don’t be fooled. Your parents are good actors, my mom is a lawyer with plenty of trial experience and my dad is known for his poker face. This could just be a lot of smoke and mirrors for our benefit.”

“I don’t give a shit what it is as long as they all shut the fuck up. What I care about is that they seemed to have buried the hatchet, more or less.” Benedict turned and gestured towards their parents. “Over there stands living proof that they are all capable of behaving themselves and carrying on like normal prospective in-laws when they want to,” he added in a low voice.

“Or need to. I can’t believe how things changed so quickly,” whispered Donna. “It was like someone flipped a switch.”

“Agreed, and we have your granddad to thank for it. I do think his words finally penetrated those thick skulls.”

“Grandpa has always been the voice of reason, and he can lay an excellent guilt trip on people.”

“Are your other grandparents like him?”

Donna paused to consider her response before answering. “I’d have to say yes. Nona and Popi definitely mind their own business – unless asked to intervene. I think they have too many kids and grandkids to get that deeply involved with any one branch of the family.”

“So you don’t think your mum told them about us then? You know…how she and your dad feel about me.”

“Oh, that much I’m sure they know. What I love about them is that they will reserve judgement until they meet you for themselves.”

“And if they don’t like me, Uncle Angelo will send his thugs over to pay me a visit no doubt. I’ll be known as the actor who disappeared into the depths of the Thames – never to be seen again,” said Benedict with a grimace.

Donna swatted his upper arm. “Stop that! You have no proof of anything like that!”

Benedict raised an eyebrow at her. “Erm…I actually have enough evidence to make an educated guess.”

“I suggest you keep that forever to yourself.”

Benedict nodded as he watched their parents chattering away. Donna loved how his eyes appeared green in the waning daylight.

“Your granddad really is a lovely old boy, and I want to do something else for him.”

“Like what?”

“You’ll see in good time. I’ll be back in a bit.”

 

 

Colin, Timothy and Neil had drifted into discussing rugby amongst themselves while Toni was expounding on the merits of using fresh tomatoes versus tinned when making what she called ‘Nona’s Sunday gravy’.

“Erm…I hate to intrude upon your respective discussions; but I was wondering if I could steal Colin and Mum for a few minutes. I thought it would be a nice idea to take some photos in the gardens to commemorate this occasion whilst we still had decent light,” suggested Benedict with a sincere smile.

“That’s a brilliant idea, Ben!” said Wanda. “There’s plenty of light left.”

“Oh yes!” exclaimed an excited Colin, clapping his hands together. “Tim, you must come with us. I’d fancy some pictures of you with us as well.”

Donna felt a chill spread up her spine as panic seized her.

_Oh, NO! Then I’ll be alone with Mom and Dad! That was some surprise, Benedict. You’ve set the stage for one of Mom’s cross examinations. Please don’t leave us alone, Tim! Please stay put and keep chatting with Dad about rugby even if he doesn’t know what in the hell you’re talking about.  
_

“It would be my pleasure,” smiled Timothy.

As soon as Benedict, his parents and Colin had retreated into the gardens for the purpose of taking photos; Donna saw her mother’s eyes light up.

“Let’s have a seat on that bench in front of the hedgerow, so we can talk while they’re busy taking photos,” suggested Toni.

“We haven’t been alone with you all day, Muffin,” added Neil.

Donna felt her anxiety beginning to build. _I should have gone with Benedict to take the photos. Who am I kidding? This was inevitable. I need to just suck it up and act like an adult. I’m jumping to conclusions. They aren’t going to grill me…are they?_

Once they had settled on the bench, Neil stretched and yawned. He turned towards Donna and looked her in the eyes and held her gaze.

“You know what I found strange? That the server was _so_ convinced that Wanda was conducting a job interview with you, Muffin. Why on earth would that woman think that Wanda Ventham needed a PA?” he mused. “She’s a part time working actress at this stage of her life.”

_Shit. I didn’t expect the first volley to come from him. They’re going to double-team me. I’m out of practice living so far away from them. Let’s see if I still remember how to tap dance around them.  
_

“Well, if Wanda is going to write her memoirs, then I would definitely think she would require the help of a PA, don’t you think?” asked Donna innocently. _  
_

_Why did I just ask that? Of course, he’s going to say no.  
_

“Um…No. This isn’t Angelina Jolie we’re talking about here,” snickered Neil.

“Writing takes up a great deal of time, which I can vouch for from personal experience. A book certainly would take up more time than writing a column,” said Donna.

“When did you last write a book?” inquired Neil.

“I haven’t, as you well know, Daddy.”

“There isn’t even a contract in place from what I gather. Everything is still in the ‘talking’ stage,” said Toni. “Supposedly,” she added, as she leaned around Neil and glanced at Donna meaningfully.

_I’m really glad I didn’t sit in between them. That would have been unbearable. Mom’s getting closer to the actual cross examination. I can feel the shivers up and down my spine._

“This is what I call: pie-in-the-sky,” declared an amused Neil. “With all due respect, Donna, not many people would be interested in the memoirs of Wanda Ventham – except for Pa.” _  
_

“It sounded more to me like Wanda was interviewing you to be Benedict’s girlfriend, if I didn’t know better,” observed Toni, leaning around Neil to stare at Donna pointedly. “Was it?”

“It’s not what you think,” protested Donna in a small voice.

“What isn’t?” inquired Neil, clearly baffled. “Am I missing something?”

“Yes, Dear,” said Toni. “Our first server had waited on Donna and Wanda several months ago and was under the impression from bits of the conversation that Donna was being interviewed for a PA job by Wanda. I’m not so sure I’m convinced that this was just a pleasant conversation over a cup of tea.”

“For heavens sake, Mom! Wanda was asking me all those questions because she was interested in me.”

“I don’t care how nosy Wanda may be, but you don’t grill someone like that because you want to get to know them. I think the server would have known the difference between an interview and a simple conversation. That woman was convinced that it was a job interview. She looked shocked when you told her otherwise,” retorted Toni, getting to her feet and beginning to pace back and forth in front of the bench.

“Bernice just overheard bits and pieces of their conversation, Toni. It was an innocent assumption. It would be ridiculous to think it was anything more than that!” scoffed Neil, crossing his legs and resting his arm along the back of the bench.

Donna caught him side-eyeing her.  _Could it be that Dad's playing the role of good cop or was his interpretation really that different from Mom's?_

“Would it?” Toni asked Donna with a raised eyebrow. “Somehow I don’t think so. I’ve been listening and observing and I think I have a pretty good idea as to what went down.”

Donna giggled nervously. “What _exactly_ do _you_ think went down, Mother?”

_Why am I acting like this?  Of course she's going to tell me now.  She's been dying to tell me all afternoon. I know it’s just a matter of time before she flushes me out. There’s a reason why she never loses a court case._

Toni pursed her lips and frowned at her daughter. “I see. You’re going to continue playing coy. It won’t work with me, Donna Marie Saint James.” She paused to take a deep breath. “Okay. Here’s what I think is going on based on the evidence before me along with an extrapolated guess: You and Wanda met here for an interview all right, but it wasn’t a job interview. All those questions she purportedly asked you were the type of questions you’d ask someone on one of those dating sites. This is purely supposition, of course.”

_And a damn good one,_ thought Donna.

“Donna met Wanda on a dating site?” asked Neil, clearly perplexed.

“Possibly,” replied Toni, staring down at Donna. “That part’s not entirely clear to me yet. I’m thinking Wanda made up a profile on behalf of Benedict – though from their tense interactions it’s more than likely she did it without his knowledge from the way she’s acting around him. I also believe Tim is in on it. It’s blindingly obvious to me that they’re trying to hide something from Benedict.”

“Well, it isn’t to me,” snapped Neil.

“Please let me finish, Dear. I think Donna was registered with the same dating site and came across it when she was perusing profiles. Her interest was piqued, as I’m sure Wanda described Benedict in such a flattering way that he sounded irresistible to Donna.”

“ _I_ could resist him,” scoffed Neil. “Sorry for the snide remark, Toni. I couldn’t resist. Please continue, Counselor.”

“Donna then contacted Wanda, who in turn, responded to her on Benedict’s behalf or as Benedict – most likely on his behalf as I can’t for the life of me visualize Benedict allowing his mother to make a match for him.”

“I suppose it’s possible; but it’s still an awfully wacky stunt to try and pull off,” interrupted Neil.

“The woman is a busy-body,” retorted Toni. “You said so yourself, Neil.”

“True, and Cumberbatch is clearly mortified by her behaviour at times,” observed Neil. “You can see it in his eyes. If looks could kill…” he allowed his voice to trail off.

“Benedict’s not the only one who’s mortified by his parents’ behavior,” snapped Donna. “You two played your parts well at the Ivy Club last night.”

Toni waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. “We’re getting off topic here, Donna.”

“No, we’re not!”

“Shhhh, Donna. Please. Let your mother finish her closing argument, so the prosecution can rest,” said Neil, impatience starting to show. “They’ll be back soon, and I want your mother to get to the point.”

Toni cleared her throat and continued. “Any way, they set up a meeting here at the Orangery, and Wanda conducted an interview to see if Donna were acceptable girlfriend material for her son. Apparently, she passed the test with flying colors or we wouldn’t be here.   How’s that for reconstructing the sequence of events?”

“On further reflection, that’s one of the most ridiculous things I’ve ever heard!” exclaimed Neil.

“Is it, Donna?” Toni asked Donna with a raised eyebrow.

Donna wrung her hands as her face turned beet red. _I’m caught in Toni’s web. Time to come clean._

“No. It’s not,” she replied in a barely audible voice. “It never should have gotten out of hand like it did.”

“So, I was right,” said Toni, nodding to herself.

“Mostly. Wanda placed an ad on Craigslist for a daughter-in-law for her son…”

“Craigslist?” repeated Neil. “For God’s sake! Of all things! All the weirdoes place ads on Craigslist!”

“Yes, Craigslist, and not everyone who uses it is weird. Carly and I have used it to hire kitchen help with great results. As I started to say, I was on Craigslist one night looking for a sous chef for Carldonn when I started to skim the personal ads on a lark. I was lonely and tired of meeting jerks.”

“And you found Wanda’s ad,” said Toni.

“You’re leading the witness, Counselor,” declared Neil.

“Yes, I did. Her ad was so unique and well-written that I was drawn to it. She made Benedict sound every bit as wonderful as he is.”

“Of that I had no doubt,” snickered Neil. “I told you that the woman has a real talent when it comes to writing. Wanda truly missed her calling.”

“How did Benedict feel about all this?” asked Toni. “Surely he was in on it.”

“He has no idea that she placed the ad or that I responded to it!” cried Donna. “Finding a suitable girlfriend has been a bone of contention for a few years now between them. Benedict would be furious if he ever found out. He would never understand why she did it.”

“You’re right about that. From what I’ve seen and heard today, Cumberbatch would not be understanding or forgiving,” said Neil, shaking his head. “This is a real pickle you’ve gotten yourself into, Daughter.”

“Oh, it’s such a mess!” wailed Donna. “Tim knows about it…Ben’s half-sister, Tracy knows, Wanda’s friend, Una knows…Carly knows…”

“And now, we know,” finished Neil, shaking his head in disgust. “How in the world did you get in so deep?”

“Trust me, Dad, it was very easy,” said Donna with a bitter laugh. “Wanda can be very persuasive.”

Neil rolled his eyes. “I take it we’re now going to be asked to keep this secret?”

“Yes. Please.”

“Jesus Christ, Donna! You need to tell Cumberbatch about this!” shouted Neil. “I don’t want your mother and I to be a party to this deception.”

“Lower you voice, Neil. Please. As you pointed out, we’re on borrowed time here. We don’t want any of them to hear us,” said Toni calmly. “Let’s consider _all_ the angles first. We don’t want to make a hasty decision based on emotions.”

“Now, it’s _we_. This is Donna’s problem, Toni. Not _ours_!”

“I tried to tell him, Dad. Twice now, but Benedict always cuts me off and says what’s in the past needs to remain there and not muddy up our future.”

“Hmmm…I guess Cumberbatch has his own skeletons in the closet that he wishes to remain hidden,” said Neil with a smirk. “That’s the only reason he’d say something like that. Like when he was about to take up with his co-star in _Hedda Gabbler_. We practically had to drag that out of him.”

“To be fair, Dear, Donna did attempt to tell him on two occasions; but he dismissed both of her attempts,” pointed out Toni. “That frees her from…”

“Stop looking so pleased with yourself, Toni. This isn’t a court case and you just found a loophole to get your client off. This is our daughter taking part in a scheme to deceive her boyfriend as to how they came to be together! And conniving with his parents no less! This isn’t an insignificant little white lie – this is a major breach of Cumberbatch’s trust! You can’t make shit like this up! I can’t believe you got yourself embroiled in such a scheme, Donna!”

“It’s not a scheme,” said Donna petulantly. “We like to refer to it as the Plan.”

“Good gravy,” sighed Neil, running his hand through his salt and pepper hair. “Did you hear that, Toni? They even have a code name for it: The Plan!” He turned back towards Donna. “No matter how you try and sugar-coat it, it is still a lie.”

“Please stop ranting Neil. I need to think. Is the ad still available, Donna?” inquired Toni. “I’d like to review it.”

Donna shook her head. “It’s no longer online; but I have a copy saved in my email.”

“That’s a dangerous place to keep it, Donna. Particularly since Benedict is so nosy. Someone like that is bound to find it sooner or later. I recommend deleting it if I were you,” warned Toni.

“I’m not worried about that. Those files are password protected. I’m more concerned about one of us slipping and saying something to set off his suspicions.”

“He already seems suspicious to me,” scoffed Neil. “He does love to ask questions. The man would have made a great trial lawyer. He should have stuck with that rather than acting. By now he would have had plenty of money saved up to renovate his apartment.”

“I’m being serious, Donna. You need to heed my advice and destroy all evidence,” continued Toni. “I can’t emphasize this enough. Wanda needs to do it, as well.”

“You’re helping her with the cover up?” asked a dumbfounded Neil.

“Afraid I’ll get disbarred for helping my daughter?” chortled Toni.

“I think you need to mind your own business. Donna, you and Cumberbatches’ parents all need to come clean and just tell him.”

“NO!” cried Donna. “If Benedict finds out, he’ll break up with me for sure. He’ll also disown his parents.”

“I don’t care about his parents!” shot back Neil. “I care about you being totally truthful with the man you want to marry, though God alone knows what’s so special about him.”

“Daddy! Please stop taking pot shots at…”

Toni raised her hand for silence. “Hush you two! Wait a minute. Donna, didn’t you tell us that you and Benedict met at a restaurant?”

“That’s right. We met at Jamie Oliver’s restaurant, Barbecoa.”

“Go ahead and elaborate. This may be the break we’re looking for.”

“Jesus Christ! I didn’t know we were looking for one!” thundered Neil. “I think we need to go back inside. It’ll buy us some extra time if they come looking for us.”

“Excellent idea, Dear,” agreed Toni. “We can always say Donna and I drank so much tea that we needed to use the ladies room.”

Once they were back in the reception area, Donna began her story. Neil stood facing the entrance in order to be the lookout in case the others came searching for them:

“I emailed Wanda in response to her ad, but she didn’t answer me right away. So, in the meantime, I went to Barbecoa for a meeting with Jamie Oliver. I had given Jamie’s new restaurant a bad review, and he invited me to drop by so we could discuss it. He wanted to gain some insight as to where the kitchen had gone wrong. As it happened, I wound up being late for our appointment. Since it was in the middle of dinner service, Jamie couldn’t see me right away and offered to cook me dinner while I waited. The hostess sat me at the same communal table that Benedict was already seated at. That is how we actually met. Wanda’s ad had nothing to do with our meeting. Now, this is how it actually went down once she contacted me…”

 

 

Ten minutes later, Donna had finished supplying the details and answering more of her mother’s questions while Neil alternated between shaking his head and rolling his eyes as his listened to his daughter’s explanation.

“And that’s about it,” Donna sighed deeply. “Now you two know everything there is to know as to how we met, how the Plan came to be and all our attempts to preserve it along with the reasons that motivated it.”

“At the risk of sounding like a broken record, I really think you need to tell him, Muffin,” declared Neil. “Don’t you agree, Toni?”

Toni shook her head adamantly. “Not this time, Dear. I’m all for not telling him based on the evidence I’ve just heard.”

“Jesus, Toni. We’re not in a court room, and our daughter is not on trial.”

“Oh, Mom, if Benedict ever finds out, he’s going to be so angry; and there’s really nothing I can say that justifies my actions.”

“That’s why I suggest you get it over with and tell him,” insisted Neil.

“I don’t know what I was thinking! I never should have gone along with Wanda’s plan in the first place. I should have told her that I had met someone and wasn’t interested in her son; but I felt I owed her something.”

“You owe her nothing,” snapped Neil. “Look. I’m sure Cumberbatch won’t be overjoyed to hear about this plan, but I’m sure he’ll get over it quickly. He gives me the impression that he can be reasoned with.”

Donna snorted. “There’s a lot you don’t know about Benedict, Daddy. Once he gets angry, he tends to hold a grudge for a while. He would see this as a breach of trust and loyalty.”

“We’re not talking about a Saint Bernard here,” scoffed Neil. “We’re talking about a simple miscommunication between you and his parents. The problem began when you let Wanda talk you into keeping her secret.”

“And that’s what is going to be the problem,” said Donna. “I don’t know what I could possibly say to convince him…”

“Ah! Houston, I think we have an iron-clad loophole! Announced Toni, clapping her hands together with glee. “You met Benedict before the Plan was conceived and executed by Wanda and you. That statement is key to your defense. You had no idea he was Wanda’s son until some time had passed and you were already seeing each other. I also want to bring to the court’s – I mean to your – attention that you had every right to answer a personal ad if you wanted to prior to meeting him. You and Benedict had no formal commitment, so you did nothing wrong.”

“Objection. She withheld evidence, Counselor,” snarled Neil.

“Objection overruled! What matters is that they met before the crap with the ad started. Period,” retorted Toni. “Benedict can sulk and pout all he wants; but in the end, Wanda did not bring you two together. You came together on your own – like Beauty and the Beast – pardon the comparison.”

“You make it sound so simple – and reasonable, Mom.”

“That’s because it is. Don’t worry, Muffin. We’ll keep your counsel as your parents, but if your secret is revealed, you’re in the clear!”

“From your mouth to God’s ears, Counselor,” said Neil Saint James with reluctance. “And for the record, I’m only doing this under protest; only because I love you, Donna; and want to see you happy.”

Donna got up and hugged Toni and Neil in turn. “I’d be a fool not to take the advice of my lawyer – especially since she’s never been wrong.”

“There’s always a first time for everything,” muttered Neil Saint James as they began to head towards the exit. “They should be done with their photo session by now.”

“You know what? I really do have to use the ladies room,” said Donna. “How about you, Mom?”

“I’m fine. Dad and I will meet you at the bench.”

_Good. Now, I can text Wanda and Tim that two more have joined the cause._

Donna waited until her parents were out of the building before removing her cellphone from her handbag. She turned around and nearly bumped into Timothy, who grabbed her arm to keep her from falling.

“Oh, my gosh! Where did you come from, Tim? You’re supposed to be outside, taking pictures with the others,” exclaimed Donna.

“There are more than one entrance,” explained Timothy. “I used the one right off the gardens. I needed to use the bogs.”

“We didn’t see you come in here.”

Timothy chuckled. “I was coming out of the bogs when I found you all having your meeting. Your father had his back to me, as he was obviously being the lookout, and you and your mother were too wrapped up in your confession to notice me. I was sat right behind you on that bench, near that potted orange tree. The Commander will be tickled pink that I was able to blend in so well with the scenery.  Here I thought my spying days were behind me.  Who would have thunk what a useful skill it turned out to be?”

Donna looked about nervously. “How much did you hear?”

“Enough to know that we now have two hostile recruits.  The Commander will be chuffed to hear how our ranks have swelled in the past hour.”

Donna felt the tears welling up inside. She sniffed to keep from crying. “My mom figured it out. I had to tell her, Tim. Believe me, I didn’t want to. They were the last ones I wanted to find out about the Plan.”

“No, Ben is the last one we want to find out,” said Timothy evenly.

Fat tears began to roll down Donna’s cheeks. “He can’t ever find out!”

“Shhhh…he’s not going to find out, Donna. We’ll do whatever it takes to keep our secret.” Timothy gathered her into a comforting bear hug. His cologne was redolent of spice, ginger and mandarin.

“I like your cologne,” sniffed Donna.

“It’s Burberry Brit,” smiled Timothy, removing a clean handkerchief from his pocket and handing it to Donna. “Ben gave it to me this past Christmas.”

“Thank you. You’re the second Cumberbatch male to offer me something to dry my eyes with in the past twenty-four hours.”

Timothy looked momentarily startled. “I don’t mean to pry; but I hope my son wasn’t the cause of your tears.”

Donna shook her head as she blotted her eyes. “No. My parents were the root cause. Everything’s okay now…well, it was okay until this afternoon.”

Timothy drew a deep breath as he released Donna from the hug. “Your parents were destined to find out sooner or later. People slip or wind up in an awkward situation, which forces their hand - despite their best intentions. In your case, it was simply bad luck that Bernice turned out to be our server today.”

“We never should have come here in the first place.”

“The Commander was hell bent on returning to the scene of the crime. She felt it was someplace local and touring the gardens would give us something to do rather than being trapped…I mean confined... in the close quarters of the flat. More potential for sustained stress.  Also, realistically what were the odds that we'd wind up with the same server?”

“Very small.  However, you were right the first time – we were trapped,” smirked Donna. “What do you think – from what you overheard?”

“That your mother is right and your father is also right. It’s a tough call either way and both have consequences. In the end, I’d have to side with your mother.”

Donna nodded and handed the handkerchief back to Timothy. She noticed that it was monogrammed with his initials: TCCC.

_That’s a lot of initials. Ben’s are BTCC. Mine are DMSJ. When we have kids, I’m going to campaign for them only having three names. Cumberbatch is long enough on its own. Our kids are going to need nice, simple, one syllable names to go with that._

“That’s the conclusion I came to. My mom is right. Benedict and I met before all the shenanigans ensued.”

_Did I just say ‘shenanigans ensued’? Yes, I did. That’s something my honey would have said._

“I’m going to give you some advice,” said Timothy. “Don’t let down your guard for a minute. Don’t allow yourself to be lulled into a false sense of security just because of what your mother said; because that is when mistakes are made, Donna. Barrister Ben is always lurking just below the surface – never forget that.”

“I won’t,” promised Donna solemnly. “Shall we go catch up with the others?” 

 

 

Two weeks later:

 

Donna Saint James walked into Carldonn Creative Catering to find their Executive Chef, Maria, manning the counter. She looked up when the bell above the door tinkled and smiled at Donna.

“Hi Love! It’s about time you got here! Where have you been? Carly’s been in a right strop that you backed out of these last two interviews with scarcely any notice.”

Donna sighed as she approached the counter. “My editor wanted to review and pare down the locations I’m going to use for my Christmas in New York article; so I had no choice but to stay. At least Kelsey’s here to lend support in my absence.”

“Yeah. That she is, God love her. She’s already sat in on the interview with the bird who came in for the buyer position.”

“How was she?”

“Carly was over-the-moon with her, as well as Kelsey. They said she was the best of the lot and asked her to come back once you got here. I’ve got her mobile number, so I can ring her and let her know to head back now.”

“Great. What about the bookkeeper?”

“They’re still interviewing her. Carly left a copy of their CV’s for you to look over before you go back there. Carly told me to buzz her as soon as you’ve gone over them.”

“Oh, I don’t need to. I never read any of the resumes that came in. Carly took care of that and weeded out the ones who weren’t serious prospects. I’d rather ask my own questions.”

The door leading to the back swung open as Kelsey came through with an empty plate and beaker, wearing an expression of total amusement.

“You won’t believe this Maria; but...Donna! Finally! We’re still interviewing the bookkeeper candidate. Did you have a chance to go over their CV’s yet?”

“She doesn’t need to,” scoffed Maria, rolling her eyes. "She prefers to cold-question them."

Kelsey blinked in surprise. “As you like then, Love. Get yourself a coffee and come join us.”

Maria buzzed the intercom. “Donna’s just come in, Carly. She’ll be right back with Kelsey.”

Donna joined Maria behind the counter. “What kind of flavoured coffee do we have today?”

“Chocolate Raspberry. Do you fancy one?”

“I’ve got it,” said Donna pouring half a cup to which she added two packets of demerara sugar and half a cup of hot milk from the cappuccino machine. She took a sip. “Ah! Perfect!”

“You’ve just gone and diluted my coffee with all that bloody milk,” laughed Maria.

“That was the idea,” replied Donna with a smirk. “I’m not a huge coffee fan, but I like café au lait. Besides, this time I could use some caffeine.”

“Was there something wrong with the bread and butter pudding?” Maria asked Kelsey with a sly smile. “I don’t think we even need to wash that plate. Did she lick it clean?”

Donna stood on tiptoes and peered over the counter at the plate as Kelsey slid it across to Maria. “Holy cow! I’ll say that’s clean!”

“As I was about to say, our candidate fancies another round of the bread and butter pudding and a refill on her coffee,” giggled Kelsey. “Just make sure it’s not an end piece. She informed me that the ends tend to be dry.”

“My ends are not dry!” insisted Maria, eyes flashing. “Where in bloody hell is she putting it all?” she asked in astonishment. “I thought you said she already had lunch before she got here.”

“She did say that,” affirmed Kelsey, trying not to suppress a laugh. “But you couldn’t tell it by me! She hoovered up every last one.”

“Last one of what?” inquired Donna, filling a plate with some chocolate chip cookies.

“Carly had me cut up a couple of the leftover lunch sandwiches into finger-sized ones,” explained Maria. “It seems our candidate has quite the appetite, and she’s such a slender bird, too.”

“She made a comment that the food in the uni housing ‘sucked’ – as she so quaintly put it,” chortled Kelsey. “Carly loves to feed people, so she also made sure she had a portion of the bread and butter pudding as well. As you can see by this empty plate, it was to her liking.”

“She sounds like a pig to me,” snorted Donna. “You don’t conduct yourself like that on a job interview!”

“You’d think she’d never eaten,” added Maria, as she cut another square of the pudding and plated it. “Here, no ends.” She passed it back over the counter to Kelsey.

“Excuse me, Maria, but she said not to forget the Crème Anglaise, and be generous with it this time,” admonished Kelsey, inspecting the plate. “She said she could barely taste it.”

“Tell her I said to sod off!” snapped Maria, taking back the plate and heading for the small refrigerator. “This one is a real corker, I tell you. The other bird wasn’t as boisterous and had posh manners.”

“That’s the kind of personality we need in a buyer,” observed Donna. “Someone who exhibits a professional demeanor.”

“That bird does, not this one. She’s a bit rough around the edges, if you don’t mind my saying,” said Maria with a huff.

“To be honest, I like them both; and feel they are both well-qualified for these intern positions,” said Kelsey. “I’m telling you now, Donna, this girl is brilliant at numbers. Passed both my tests with flying colours and gave correct answers to all my questions. She’d be an asset to the Carldonn team in my opinion. I also think Carly likes her frankness. She’ll never lie to you. She’ll be honest and protect your assets as well as I have. Any firm on Liverpool Street would be wise to hire her upon graduation.”

“She’s a bit too brash for my taste,” declared Maria. “She needs someone to mold her and groom her to be more business-like.”

“Well, I can do that,” boasted Donna. “Just call me Svengali.”

“And exactly what experience do _you_ have in image-making, Svengali?” challenged Kelsey.

“Plenty,” retorted Donna, feeling a bit miffed. “I’ve a boyfriend who’s a work in progress, remember? This man needs help in the dressing department…”

“Not in the undressing department, I hope!” teased Maria, winking at Kelsey.

“Very funny!” said Donna, face reddening. “You guys have seen Benedict.”

Both women nodded and giggled.

“He does have frightful taste in clothes at times,” agreed Kelsey. “Lucky for me, my Bryan loves his clothes and has brilliant taste.”

“All of Ben’s taste is in his mouth,” sighed Donna. “I really have to bite my tongue sometimes…”

“It’s jolly good that you do then,” scolded Kelsey. “Ben’s such a sweet bloke. I’d hate to think you were being cruel to him.”

“Never!  I love the stuffing out of that man! I assure you I’ve been very discrete about it,” assured Donna. “I would never hurt his feelings. That’s why it’s taking so long to reform him.”

“I think Ben’s doing much better though,” chimed in Maria. “He looked more put together the last time few times he’s come around." 

“Thank you, Maria. He is making better wardrobe choices with my subtle guidance,” announced Donna proudly. “I can’t wait to see him in his nice suit at the premiere tonight!”

"You've got to work on getting rid of the hats though," declared Kelsey. "They're always too small for his head.”

"Like I said, Kelsey, he's a work in progress.  The man loves his hates," laughed Donna. 

Maria put two ladles of the creamy, vanilla-bean flecked custard sauce over the pudding and handed it back across the counter to Kelsey. “There. That should please Missy. And how does she fancy her coffee again?  I failed to memorize it.”

“With a _splash_ of cream, _not_ milk, and two sugars,” replied Kelsey. “And make sure the cream isn’t spoilt,” she teased.

“Bugger off, the lot of you!” said Maria. “I’ve got work to do.”

“It takes real balls to act like this on a job interview!” exclaimed Donna.

"Oh, that one's got plenty of bollocks!" confirmed Maria.  "I've never seen anyone quite like her."

Donna giggled. “I can’t wait to meet her – lead on Kelsey!”

"Just keep an open mind, Donna," Kelsey said over her shoulder.  "Think of her as a diamond in the rough."

_Like Aladdin,_ thought Donna with amusement. _I just wish I had the genie's powers to refine her!_

Donna followed Kelsey down the short hallway to the office she shared with Carly. The door was closed, yet she could hear voices raised in conversation.

_Hmmm…that voice sounds very familiar to me. Where have a heard it before?_

Donna knocked once and opened the door so Kelsey could pass through with the coffee mug and plate of bread pudding. Carly sat at their desk, across from the bookkeeper candidate, who was dressed in a nice business suit and pumps. The young woman had chin-length blonde hair and wore bright blue, over-sized, glasses. She looked up and smiled at Donna, recognition in her sapphire blue eyes.

_Holy fucking shit! It’s Heather McPherson. This must be some cruel joke God has chose to play on me.  Now, I wish I had the genie's powers to make this little bitch disappear!_

“Hi! I’m glad you were able to make it here,” said Carly coldly, glaring at Donna. “Heather, this is my partner and sister, Donna Saint James.”

“Hello, Donna! It’s been an age since we last met,” smiled Heather. “How are you?”

_How am I? Pissed as shit to see you sitting in the interviewee chair. There is no way in hell that I’m going to let Carly hire her of all people! No, no, no!_

“I’m fine. It’s nice to see you, again, Heather,” said Donna as graciously as possible. She extended her hand to Heather, who shook it.

_Shit. Her hand is sticky._

“Oopps! I’ve got some custard on my hand.” Heather frantically looked around for something to wipe her hand on.

“Here,” said Carly, handing her a paper napkin.

Donna could see several used ones wadded up on the desktop. She took a clean one and wiped off her own hand.

“Carly, could I please see you for a minute outside?”

“Sure. Kelsey, why don’t you continue chatting with Heather. Please excuse us for a moment.”

“Take your time,” said Heather, eagerly scooping up a spoonful of the pudding. “It’ll give me time to eat my pudding. Mmmmm....delicious! Tell your chef this piece is moister than the first one.”

_Oh, I think not,_ thought Donna. _I've learned one thing about Maria since we hired her:  don't critique her bread and butter pudding.  Ever._

Once they were in the hallway, Donna threw up her hands. “Are you crazy, Carla? That’s Heather! Heather McPherson!”

“I know who she is, Donna. I’ve just reread her resume, which apparently you haven’t, which is why you were surprised to see her. Had you taken five minutes out of your busy life, you would have known she had applied for the internship. What’s wrong with her? You obviously know each other.”

“You’re damned right I know her! That’s the same Heather who wanted to date Benedict. That’s the same Heather who was at Jimmy Rhodes’ concert – as Benedict’s date…”

“She’s the one his niece tried to fix him up with?”

“Yep. She’s the one, and just for the record Benedict loathes her!"

"I don't care what Ben thinks, Donna. He's not the one who has to work with her."

"Heather also did a fine and splendid job of humiliating me at the Grand Imperial later that night and then showed up at the Sunday lunch when I was supposedly meeting Wanda and Tim for the first time.”

Carly nodded vigorously as she recalled Donna’s story. “She didn’t believe you baked the cheesecake because it looked _too_ professional.”

“That’s her! She had the nerve to criticize the way I ate, too. Americans don’t know how to correctly handle a teacup, Americans waste time transferring their fork from one hand to another when eating…”

Carly raised her hand. “I recall the story vividly now that you mention it. I guess this means you don’t want us to hire her even though she’s head and shoulders above all the others we’ve interviewed?”

“Yes, I don’t want her on our staff! No way in fucking hell!”

“Even if she’s the best-qualified candidate?”

“You already intimated that, Carla.”

“I know, but I really want you to think long and carefully about that before you send her on her way because none of the others who responded to the ad weren’t even a tenth as qualified as Heather is.”

“I’m not going to tell her…”

“Oh yes, you are, Donna. I want her on board. If you are dead set against it, then you’re going to be the one to tell her so. Kelsey thinks Heather’s perfect to replace her. I think she’s perfect to replace Kelsey.”

“Maria doesn’t seem to think so,” sniffed Donna.

“Maria’s the Executive Chef. Her opinion doesn’t count in this. When we are interviewing for kitchen help, then Maria can have a say. Not when it comes to hiring a bookkeeper. You’re letting your personal feelings about her cloud your thinking.”

“She’s obnoxious as shit, Carly! I would never let her near our customers! You don’t know what she’s going to come out with. You know how Benedict can be with his malfunctioning mouth filter? Well, she doesn’t have one. Period.”

“Maybe so; but she’ll be working in the office, not outside interfacing with the customers – unless we need her to in an emergency. I’m confident that I can whip her into shape.”

“Hahaha! I wish you luck on that front.”

“You’re not going to come in such close contact with her. I’ll do what I can to keep you two apart. I feel very strongly about this, Donna.”

“Good gravy! I forgot my cookies. I really need a cookie!”

“No, you don’t! Stop procrastinating, Donna!” cried Carly, attempting to grab Donna’s arm.

“I’m not. I’m hungry,” said Donna over her shoulder as she flounced off into the shop, with Carly on her heels. She had pushed the door open with such force that it automatically swung shut, knocking Carly off her feet.

“Arrrgghhhh!!!! Damn door!”

“Oh, no! Carly, are you okay?” Donna cried, shoving the door back open and knocking her sister, who had just gotten to her feet, over once again.  "What have I done?"

“Donna! Stand where you are, and stop moving!” yelled Carly. “We just had this new door installed with that window so shit like this doesn’t happen! Apparently, we wasted our money!”

“I’m so sorry, Curly Carly!” exclaimed Donna, helping her sister to her feet and giving her a hug. “I never think to look through the window."

“Thank you for confirming that this was a waste of three hundred pounds. Gosh, Donna. You really need to look where you’re going,” she scolded, stomping into the store.

 

 

Donna waited a couple of minutes to allow her sister to cool down before following her out into the store. Carly was standing in front of the counter next to a young, blonde-haired woman, who must have been the other intern candidate. They both turned to face her.

“Hi Donna!” said Emily Peacock, who had been chatting with Maria. Donna realized the two women must have been watching the scene involving the door being played out with amusement.

_Crap! It’s Benedict’s niece, Emily. I bet she came by to lend moral support to Heather._ _She must be thinking how graceful we aren’t._

“Emily! What a nice surprise!” replied Donna, smiling brightly. “What brings you here?”

“Maria just rang me to come back so you could interview me about the internship for a buyer/office manager. I’d love to work here with you and Carly more than anything!”

_This can’t be happening. Why me? What have I done to deserve this? Of all the businesses looking for interns in London, and they choose to apply to our ad! I can’t begin to imagine Emily and Heather working here together. Carly has no idea what she’s letting us in for._

“It sounds like the perfect job – and the opportunity to work with my best friend makes it all the more appealing!” Continued Emily excitedly. _  
_

_Holy crap! If Benedict were here, he’d say this is like the Twilight Zone of Employees that I don’t want,_ thought Donna.

“Gran was so excited when I told her I found your ad on the Open Job Postings bulletin board at Uni. Hardly any of the internships mention the possibility of turning into permanent positions after graduation. That’s what caught our eye.”

_Oh, I bet Wanda was excited. I bet she was beside herself with joy. If we hire Emily that means Tim’s beloved Commander will have a spy right in our midst. Wanda will be grilling her about anything I say or do concerning Benedict.  
_

“Carly, let’s bring in the sandwich board and put up the Closed Sign,” suggested Donna, looking up at the cupcake clock. “Excuse us for a moment.”

“I’ll do it,” offered Maria making shooing gestures at them. “Off you go to your interviews then.”

“Thank you, Maria,” said Carly, starting back toward the swinging door. “Shall we, Emily?”

“Don’t be silly, Maria. Carly and I are right here,” argued Donna. “Coming, _Carla_?” Donna made eyes at her meaningfully.

“It’s okay if you want some privacy,” said Emily, feeling uneasy. “I’ll just wait outside. Let me know when it’s safe to come back inside.”

Carly glared at Donna. “Oh, no. It’s nothing like that…”

_Oh, yes it is,_ thought Donna. _I want some privacy, and your best friend is sitting in our office waiting to be served more free food and drink._

“It’s really okay. It’s a nice day outside. I don’t mind waiting,” said Emily as she moved towards the door with a dejected look on her face. Donna felt a pang of guilt wash over her.

_Why am I being such a bitch? I think I just hurt her feelings. I actually like Emily, but still…_

Carly took stock of the situation. _My sister wants to continue our conversation. I suppose I need to hear what else she has to say. Maybe there’s another side to Emily that I haven’t seen._

“We really do have to close up now. Come on, Donna.” 

The two women went outside, and Carly pulled the door shut behind them.

“Boy, you are as subtle as a brick, Donna! This is so rude,” hissed Carly in a low voice. “Emily knows you want to talk about her.”

“She’s very intuitive,” snapped Donna. “There was nowhere else to go, and I need to tell you that this is NOT a good idea.”

“And why not? Emily is very well qualified. She’s a business major, loves to shop – which is important for a buyer - and she presents herself very professionally. She’s got a great, positive attitude and would do well by us. Not to mention that she’s such a kind, gentle soul!”

“The kind, gentle soul has moved right up against the window so she can hear us.”

Carly glanced towards the window in time to see Emily take a hurried step backwards.

“Crap. You were right!”

“She’s definitely inherited the Ventham gene for curiosity.”

“I can see that,” said Carly, looking at the window. “I can see her hovering just behind the curtains. Maria must have gone in the back. Let’s move over there.”

“Carly, if we hire Emily, it will be like having a spy in our midst!”

“What do you mean? That’s she’s nosy? Hell, you’re one of the nosiest people I know!”

“She’ll be a direct pipeline to Wanda when it comes to anything said about Benedict. Emily will be privy to personal things about my relationship with her uncle that she shouldn’t be!”

“Then you’ll just have to keep your mouth filter turned on at all times. Honestly, Donna, we need to surround ourselves with people we can trust – especially when we’re both out working at our other jobs. Maria, George and Karl need to be in the kitchen, not manning the counter. Emily could manage the place in our absence. Who better than someone who is almost family to watch our backs? She would never let you down, because that would be akin to letting her uncle down.”

“You’re right. She adores Benedict, so you’re saying she’ll adore me by association.”

Carly barked out a laugh as she collapsed the sandwich board. “Stop deluding yourself. I wouldn’t say Emily adores you, but she seems to like you. She said many complimentary things about you during the interview and that she hopes you and Benedict marry one day. Even Heather said nice things about you.”

“Really? I find that hard to believe!”

“I wouldn’t lie to you.”

“No, I suppose you wouldn’t. You never have.”

“And I’m not going to start now.”

“The thought of having to deal with Heather every day is not an appealing one. Emily, I can tolerate; but not Heather!”

“Listen to me, Donna. You’re not here all that much during the day; and when you are, it’s to help out in the kitchen or at the counter. I’m the one who will have most of the contact with them. I have a good feeling about them. I think they will both be fine additions to the Carldonn family.”

“Now we’re a family. Stop trying to guilt me so I cave in.”

“I’m not trying to guilt you, Donna. I’m trying my best to convince you that hiring them is what’s best for Carldonn. Yeah, we are a family; and this family needs to grow – especially with our new venture. We want it to be a success; so we need to surround ourselves with the best people we can afford to. These two are perfect for what we need.”

“Benedict is not going to be happy when he hears about this.”

“Ben needs to keep his nose out of our business - just as Steven does.”

“Whoa, those are harsh words coming from the woman who consults with her husband on everything.”

“That’s right. I do, but that doesn’t mean it’s a given that I’m always going to take his advice – anymore than you take Benedict’s. Neither of them are thrilled about expanding the catering to TV shows.”

“Um…it’s just one show, Carly.”

“Okay. One show. One show that I’m getting more and more excited about providing the catering for.”

“I know what you mean. I’m getting excited about it, too! Its going to be a lot of work, but it’s also going to be lots of fun.”

“And to succeed, we will need a crackerjack staff.”

“Point made.”

“Good girl. I knew you’d come to your senses.”

“I still want to talk to them.”

“And you should.”

The door to the shop opened. Emily smiled shyly at them.

_The little darling heard every word_ , thought Donna.

“I’ll hold the door open, so you can get that board through,” Emily offered.

“Thanks!” said Donna. “Ready, Carly? One, two, three…”

The two women hoisted the sandwich board inside the shop, while Emily closed and locked the door behind them. She turned the sign on the door to the ‘Closed’ side.

“Hmmm…you’re acting like you work here already,” teased Carly.

“I feel very at home here and with everyone I’ve met so far. I think I could be very happy here,” said Emily. “But it is up to you guys.” She lowered her head and studied her shoes. “I don’t mean to be too forward. I’ve been looking for an internship for the past six months when I saw your posting. You made it sound so interesting and; hopefully, I will grow and prove my worth to you both; so it will lead to a full-time job after graduation.”

“Why don’t you come on back to the office? This way I can talk with you both at the same time,” said Donna, holding the door open so Emily could pass.   She looked back over her shoulder at her grinning sister. “Carly, could you please bring us some cookies and a slab of that bread pudding with a pitcher of the sauce. It’s going to be a long afternoon.”

“That’s the Donna Saint James I like to see!”

 “And which one is that?”

“The one with the open mind, which I expect you to keep open, too. Go on, I’ll be right there with the refreshments. I’m hoping to be offering them the positions by three, so we can put this behind us and go home to get ready for the premiere tonight.”

“Oh my gosh! I almost forgot about the _Creation_ premiere!”

“How could you forget about your red carpet debut as the girlfriend of one of the film’s stars?”

“I haven’t actually forgotten. I just pushed it to the back of my mind because I’d have trouble concentrating on my work. It sounds so exciting when you say that. Just think – me walking a red carpet at a film premiere – with one of the stars as my date!”

“Are you nervous? I know I would be trying to remember all the things I’d have to do.”

“I’m more excited than nervous. It doesn’t sound too difficult. I’m basically just arm candy for Benedict. I only pose for photos if invited to. I’m not supposed to speak unless Benedict wants me to, and so far he doesn’t. I can bow out and be taken right into the theatre if I find it’s too much; but I don’t see it coming to that. I just want to make Benedict and his publicist proud of me.”

“You’ll work that red carpet, Donna. I have the utmost confidence in you. Just do me one big favor.”

“Name it.”

“Don’t wear those very high heels you bought last week. You have trouble walking in them. You look like you’re walking on stilts.”

“Oh, I’m much better at it now. I’ve been practicing. Besides, I’ve got Benedict to lean on if I lose my balance.”

“Ben’s not going to be by your side every minute. He’s working, and keeping you on your feet is not one of his priorities. The last thing he needs is his new girlfriend tripping on the red carpet and making an ass out of herself in front of the press. All eyes are going to be on you tonight, Donna. Just think - your photo will be online and your name will be in the papers tomorrow morning.”

“You exaggerate, Curly Carly. No one cares about me or who I am. It’s just a few photographers and some interviewers. I bet it’s not even a long red carpet. I sincerely doubt I’ll make the papers. Benedict will for sure; but not me.” _  
_

_At least I hope not. I would hate to lose my privacy. Like Daddy said, Benedict is not a big star, so I think it will be fine. Then why do I suddenly feel nervous?_

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I had always intended for Emily and Heather to wind up as part of the Carldonn team. 
> 
> 2\. I realize that Heather isn't the most lovable of my characters; but I feel they all can't be - then it would be boring IMHO.
> 
> 3\. Emily will become Benedict's PA further down the road as she is in real life, and keep her job at Carldonn as well. 
> 
> 4\. I decided that Donna's parents needed to find out about the Plan sooner rather than later. I also wanted to show that they don't always agree.


	111. Chapter 111

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Benedict and Donna prepare for the Creation Premiere. Benedict realizes that he and Karon differ in coaching styles. Karon arrives to find nobody home.
> 
> Note: I’ll be using ************* for things happening at the same time.

 

 

Once the offers of the internships had been made and accepted by Emily Peacock and Heather McPherson, Donna and Carly had returned to their respective apartments in order to get ready for the _Creation_ premiere. To her surprise, Donna found that Benedict had already arrived and was in the shower.

 _I should tell him I’m here, so I don’t startle him,_ she thought as she tried the doorknob. _Just as I expected - he left_ _it_ _unlocked._

“Hi, Ben! I’m back!” Donna called out into the steamy bathroom.

“Care to join me? You’re always welcome,” Came his deep baritone voice from behind the shower curtain. “Actually, I’m just about done; so you’d have to be quick about it.”

Donna entered the over-heated bathroom and sat on the closed toilet bowl lid. “It’s okay. I’ll wait for you to finish. I can change out of my clothes and check the weather forecast in the meantime.”

“It’s going to be chilly, so dress warmly.”

_He hasn’t seen my dress yet. I guess I’d better bring along a shawl so I don’t freeze. Hmmm…I wonder if I can wear a shawl on the red carpet or will Karon make me give it to her. I can’t see how she could expect me to walk around in a strapless dress.  
_

“I’ll make sure to take a shawl with me.”

“Karon will confiscate it before you get out of the car. Ladies aren’t expected to cover up their outfits.”

“Even if it’s cold?”

“Haven’t you ever noticed that almost no women wear jumpers or coats on the red carpet?”

“Umm…I can’t say that I’ve ever paid much attention to it. I rarely watch the awards shows. I’d rather get my rest and hear the results the next morning on the radio.”

_Come to think of it, I’ve never seen Sarah wearing a coat on the red carpet – even in winter. Why didn’t I ever think to ask her about it? She’s done so many that she should have been my go-to person, but I didn’t want to bother her with the twins arrival and all. I guess she assumed I’d learn from watching her.  
_

“Well, maybe now that you’re involved with an actor, who does red carpets on occasion, you will do your homework like a good girl.”

“Will they have heat lamps or portable heaters scattered around?”

_Did she just say heat lamps and portable heaters?  Perhaps at the Oscars or a really important event, certainly not at this premiere. Bless her._

Benedict barked out a laugh from behind the shower curtain. “Not at this one! The choices are to wear something with long sleeves or to keep a stiff upper lip and soldier on until you’re out of the sight of the cameras.”

“My upper lip won’t be the only thing to get stiff from the cold if I have to walk around without _some_ kind of cover up!”

_We’ll see about that. Karon isn’t going to be wearing a strapless dress. If I’m cold, I’m keeping it! Red carpet be damned. I’ll start my own trend. Besides no one knows or cares who I am. I hope._

“There’s a fresh pot of ‘Tim’s Brew’ along with a tasty little snack on the breakfast bar in case you’re feeling peckish.”

“Oooo…I love Tim’s brew. You are such a good boyfriend, Benedict; and I am a lucky girl to have you.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere. Can you…erm…pass me the conditioner, please? I left it on the vanity top.”

Donna picked up the bottle and put it in Benedict’s outstretched hand. He quickly stuck out his head and gave her a peck on the lips. He tasted of minty toothpaste and mouthwash.

“Hey! Why so stingy with the kissing, Mr. Cumberbatch!”

“Because the cold air is giving me goosebumps. If you want me to do better, you need to get yourself in here with me. Then I’ll be happy to kiss whatever you like for as long as you like.”

“Ben, is there food at these premieres?”

_She’s always thinking of food, bless her._

“Yeah. I suppose you’ll want to review it then?”

“NO! You’re working tonight, not me.”

“When you take your seat, there will be a container with treats to eat during the film. There’s usually popcorn, candy, nuts – things of that sort. There will also be soft drinks and bottled water.”

“Did you have something for dinner? Carly and I had a sandwich at Carldonn.”

“I made a sandwich out of your leftover roast beef when I got here. There will be canapes and hors d’erves served at the after party along with plenty of booze.”

“I could use something sweet now.”

“I’ll be right out then.”

“Very funny. What kind of tasty little snack did you bring?”

“Go see for yourself. Just don’t be greedy and hoover them all up.”

“Now my curiosity is piqued! Shall I pour you a cup of tea?”

“Please.”

“Meet you in the kitchen. Don’t be long. Time is flying, and I might just be tempted to eat your share of whatever it is!”

 

 

After getting undressed and into her terry cloth robe and slippers, Donna padded into the kitchen to inspect Benedict’s treats. True to his word, her teapot was filled with the blend of Earl Grey and Lapsang Souchong teas that she had affectionately dubbed ‘Tim’s Brew’ after his father. There was also a square bakery box from Bea’s of Bloomsbury sitting beside the teapot.

_Oh boy! Bea’s of Bloomsbury. This can only mean one thing: cupcakes! Yea!!!_

Donna opened the box and there was a note scrawled in Benedict’s not-so-neat handwriting:

**I know what a greedy little tart you are for sweets, so I’ve gotten plenty of these tasty little fairy cakes for both of us to share. ;-p  
**

_Hmmm…he didn’t use his Harrow penmanship today. He must be saving it for autographs tonight. He’s so cute and thoughtful.  
_

Donna continued reading the note: **  
**

**There are:  
**

**Chocolate fudge, chocolate peanut butter, chocolate espresso, rum truffle and tiramisu.   Out of these, I am laying claim to the chocolate espresso and the rum truffle, because I fancy coffee and booze and you don’t.  
**

_That’s true; I’m not a lover of boozy cakes or ones that reek of coffee. He is welcome to both of those._ **  
**

**There was:  
**

**A chocolate Bailey’s, but it’s happily digesting in my belly as I write this. Probably because I’m an even bigger tart for sweets than you are and couldn’t control my sodding self!   Enjoy!  
**

**Lots of Love Bxx  
**

_Hahaha! That’s my Benedict. He can’t ever resist sweets. We are the perfect sweet-loving pair.  
_

Donna poured and fixed their tea before she helped herself to the chocolate peanut butter cupcake. She ate it slowly, savoring each bite as she waited for Benedict to finish in the shower. The thick, decadent peanut butter frosting coated her fingers.

“Donna?” Benedict was standing in the hallway with a fluffy white bath towel wrapped around his slim hips.

_Damn! He caught me with frosting all over my fingers._

Donna quickly licked the frosting off her fingers as she turned on the high chair to face him wearing a guilty expression.

_I adore how cute and sexy she looks lapping the icing off her fingers. I could honestly bed her right now if I had the time._

_If this man only knew how sexy he looks with that towel on and those wet curls falling onto his forehead._

“Hmmm?” Donna finished sucking the frosting off her index finger.

“Sorry to interrupt your felatio practice,” Benedict snickered.

“You just get funnier as the afternoon wears on. Are you practicing witty remarks for tonight on the red carpet? How can I help you?”

“Well, for starters, you could show me how all that practice has sharpened your sucking skills.”

“Unfortunately, we’ve got a premiere to get ready for. I’ll be happy to show off my vastly improved skills from eating just one cupcake as soon as we get home from the after party.”

“I’d much rather have a private after party here with just the two of us…and the remainder of the fairy cakes.”

“You have to be there. It’s part of your job.”

“Sad, but true.”

“Besides this is my first red carpet experience, and I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

_And let’s hope that all goes smoothly, and I don’t suddenly get the urge to bolt._

“I’m glad I’m the one who gets the honour of taking your red carpet virginity,” teased Benedict.

 “Just be gentle with me,” Donna giggled.

“Aren’t I always - in _all_ manner of things?”

“Yes, you are; and I love that about you.”

“Anyway, I’m done drying off as you can see; so the shower is yours. Could you be a love and bring along my tea and fairy cake? I fancy the rum truffle one.”

“You want to eat it in the bathroom?”

“Why the pinched look? I’m multitasking is all. Besides, we’ve eaten in the bathroom before.”

“That’s when we were both having a sexy soaking bath with champagne and chocolate-covered strawberries.”

“Well, this is similar. I’ll eat whilst I’m clipping my fingernails and having a sexy shave.”

Donna laughed. “There’s something gross about that, but I’ll indulge you because I love you so much. Be right there.”

 

 

Donna Saint James stood in front of her bathroom mirror, patting moisturizer onto her face, while Benedict finished shaving beside her. He splashed water onto his face to remove the last vestiges of the shaving cream and dried his face on a hand towel.

“Are you still looking forward to tonight then?” Benedict asked, opening his side of the medicine cabinet and removing a bottle of his moisturizer. He dabbed on a small amount and rubbed it into his skin in order to soothe any shaving irritation.

“Heck, yeah! I can’t wait to see all those celebrities walking the red carpet, and to think that I’m going to actually get to walk on it too! I’m nervous and excited at the same time!”

“I’m glad you still feel that way – especially after your little chat with Karon. I would have thought she’d try and talk you out of it.”

_Carly gave me pause to think before, but I’m better now. Now, what’s this crap about Karon?_

Donna frowned as she painstakingly laid out all her makeup on her side of the vanity top. “Why on earth would Karon do that? She seemed to be really gung ho about having me show up as your date.”

Benedict chuckled as he regarded her through the mirror. “Oh, you don’t know Karon as well as I do, Love. She’s hates the idea of having to act as handler for both of us.”

“I don’t need a handler. I’ve got you to handle me.”

“Oh, ho! Someone else has been hard at work practicing their witty remarks. Not _that_ kind of handler,” snickered Benedict. “Though I’m awfully fond of handling you.”

“You make it sound like Karon’s going to lead us around like puppies on a leash.”

“Erm…well…it is kind of like that. From the minute we set foot out of the car, there will be people telling us what to do and where to go. Karon will be telling us how to do it. Don’t be surprised, but she’ll be sticking to me like glue until the after party. Karon’s always afraid I’m going to say something I shouldn’t.”

_And rightfully so, Ben Honey. Karon’s probably afraid of you blurting out something about the Prime Minister again._

“Well, she doesn’t need to watch over me,” sniffed Donna. “I can handle myself.”

“Is that with or without the aid of your cute little pink vibrator?”

“Hey! Stop being such a wise ass, Benedict! You’re fond of playing with my toy, too!”

Donna picked up the hand towel, stretched it taut and snapped it at him. To her dismay, Benedict quickly side-stepped it and flashed a smug smile at her.

“Has anyone told you that your aim is rubbish?”

Donna stepped closer and did it again, just missing him by an inch.

“Please don’t hurt me! I promise I’ll cease with the banter!” He shouted in a mock pleading tone of voice, laughing all the while.

“The left side of your brain is really working over time tonight. You need to give it a rest or you might not be coherent on the red carpet.”

Benedict spread his hands in surrender. “I’m done. Really I am. No more teasing about your piss poor aim or your lovely collection of sex toys, which I hope you’ll show me one day.”

“Damn you!” Donna lashed out with the towel and missed him yet again. “I don’t have a collection! I have that one…thing.”

Benedict giggled and side-eyed her in the mirror. “If you say so, but I know better.”

_Don’t tell me he found the box that I keep under the bed!_

Donna looked him in the eye with a raised eyebrow. “What do you know?”

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing.” He side-eyed her through the mirror and started to grin.

“You were snooping and found my box!”

“One night last month, when I was sleeping over, I had took an apple to eat in bed whilst I was reading and dropped it on the floor. The bloody thing rolled under the bed; so I had to get down on my knees to fetch it.”

“And you saw the box and decided to take a peek.”

“Well, to be fair, it was a plastic see-through box; and the penis ring did catch my eye as well as the glans vibrator. I know those couldn’t be for you…”

“Jesus Christ, Benedict! Nothing is sacred with you around. I bought those for us to play with one day...”

“One day _when_?”

“Soon.”

“That’s a rubbish answer if I ever heard one! If you bought them for us, then why haven’t we played with them yet? I’m totally game to try them out!”

“Because I’m not completely comfortable with the idea of us doing stuff like that to each other.”

“Bloody fucking hell, Donna! We’ve explored just about every nook and cranny of our respective bodies with our hands and mouths. Why such a fuss if we use toys to do it? I think sex toys would be a brilliant addition to our repertoire. Don’t you find the idea exciting? I sure as fuck do!”

“Why is it that you always know just what to say to make me realize how silly and inhibited I can still be at times?”

“You’re not being silly. Unnecessarily inhibited? Absolutely. I’m your lover, and you’re mine. There is no reason why you should feel uncomfortable about doing anything in bed with me. We’ve been intimate in every way for a couple of months now. The novelty should be wearing off to the point where you should be completely at ease around me.”

“I am, Ben. I do feel very comfortable with you…it’s just that this seemed a little out of my comfort zone.”

“Which is all the more reason for us to explore unchartered territory together! Just let me act as your guide! It’ll be fine. If worst comes to worst, then at least we’ll have a giggle over it.”

Donna smiled at him. “You’re right. We’ve managed to have some good laughs in bed over our mishaps.”

“Then we’ll count that as sorted for now. Are you ready to deal with the formidable Ms. Maskill?”

“Yes, I’m ready for her. I realize she’s there to make sure you get your fair share of positive publicity; but is she really going to have time to watch me that closely?”

“I swear she has eyes in the back of her head. Karon sees and hears all. It’s fucking amazing what she picks up on the red carpet. She will definitely be keeping watch over you as well, until she gets to know you better that is.”

Benedict leaned over the sink and studied his reflection in the mirror. He prodded a small, reddish patch on his chin and frowned.

“Hmmm…this motherfucking blemish isn’t going anywhere soon. At least it hasn’t come to a head yet. I supposed this is as good as this mug gets,” he sighed.

“Aren’t you going to put on any makeup?”

Benedict frowned. “What for? To cover up a lousy blemish?”

“Well, we are going to a premiere. Aren’t the stars of the movie expected to wear makeup?”

“Nope. Not for this type of premiere. I mean I _could_ apply it myself if I really felt the need; but it’s not necessary. This isn’t one of those premieres that they have in Leicester Square for a major film. It’ll be more toned down.”

“How about if I put some on for you, and I can blow dry your hair?”

Benedict shook his head. “Ermmm…nope. Thank you, but I’m going au naturel, sans makeup.”

“I can just cover up that blemish! This concealer I have from Bobbi Brown works wonders.”

“I’ve got a concealer, but I don’t feel like using it tonight. I don’t want to take the time to remove all that shit once we get back. I just want to brush my teeth and get laid – sorry if that sounded crude.”

“Can I talk you into taking me up on my offer of blowing your hair?”

Benedict smiled lewdly at her in the mirror. “How about we skip blowing my hair and you blow me instead? I guarantee not to protest.” He winked at her.

_He just hinted at wanting a blow job before. We don’t have time. Karon will be here soon with the car. I’ll take care of him once we’re back. I bet he’ll be all wound up and need something to calm him down, and sexual activity is just the trick to do that._

“Will you take a rain check? Even though I’d love nothing more than to make love to you, we’re short on time.”

“I promise that if you get on your knees now, it would be very quick. If you take off that blasted heavy robe and let me have a proper grope, it will be even quicker still.”

“I thought you like me to take my time and tease you because it makes it more intense when you climax.”

Benedict rolled his eyes at her, as he picked up the blow dryer and adjusted the controls. “I do; but I’m more than willing to make an exception this time.” He looked at her hopefully.

“I promise you a painstakingly slow and lusty blow job as soon as we get back. I’ll keep taking you to the brink of orgasm until you reach that pleasure/pain line you love so much. That will be your incentive not to hang around too late at the after party.”

_Christ! She knows me so well. I think the last time she went down on me; she brought me to the edge four times before I fucking exploded in her mouth. I thought I was going to swoon it was so intense. I wish I could get to five, but I fear that might actually be painful._

“We can’t stay too long at the after party. I’ve got my audition for _After the Dance_ tomorrow. I’m so excited, I’m afraid I won’t be able to sleep.”

“Then I’ll need to make it a point to make good on that rain check. You always get sleepy after you come, and I want you to be well-rested tomorrow so you get the part.”

Benedict applied some of Donna’s styling product to his hair and blew it partially dry. He then finger-combed the curls off his forehead only to watch them flop back down. He waved at the mirror disgustedly.

“There. This is the best I can do with what little I’ve got.”

“You look very handsome with your curls all tousled like that, and I think your skin looks flawless. You were right after all. You didn’t need makeup.”

“See. And just think of the money I saved by not having to hire a stylist, hairdresser and makeup artist.”

_Sarah and Matt always have people to do their hair and makeup before these things, but they are famous actors._

“I didn’t mean to appear so clueless before, but I seriously thought Karon was going to send someone here to do your makeup and hair. Out of curiosity, what are the criteria for you to get that done?”

“You have to play in the major leagues, to put it in terms you’d understand. I’m nowhere in that league,” Benedict laughed. “I’m just a drippy, jobbing actor with a supporting role in a film that is in no way, shape or form a Hollywood blockbuster. At best, it’s a controversial indie film that I hope will garner decent reviews.”

Donna nodded and shook her foundation bottle as Benedict opened his robe and began to pull on a pair of clean, navy blue silk boxer briefs with tiny white stars scattered over the material.

“How’s your bottom?” Donna inquired, applying her foundation and carefully blending it with a sponge. “Is it still sore?”

“I can sit comfortably again. The pain has finally subsided.”

“Let me see. I’ve been deprived of seeing your sexy body the past few days since you’ve been working so late.”

“I’m happy to oblige then.” Benedict stopped, lifted the robe and turned towards Donna leaving the briefs around his knees. “Drink me in, Darling.”

Donna carefully inspected his backside. “The bruises are gone,” she observed happily.

“I would think they bloody well should be by now.”

She gave his bottom a gentle pat. “The one on your hip is almost faded. That one was the worst.”

“Jolly good you’re chuffed with my speedy recovery,” Benedict said dropping the robe back down, pulling up his briefs and adjusting his genitals to his comfort. “Now, let’s have a look at your bum.”

“I’ve looked at mine, and its fine. I think you just want to ogle my ass.”

“I do, but I really want to see if you’ve healed properly. I’m concerned, Love. Besides, I let you have a look. It’s only fair that I get one as well.”

Donna lifted her robe and turned so he could inspect her bottom.   He took a minute to run his hand slowly over her backside. “I’m happy to report that there isn’t a trace of a bruise anywhere on your beautiful hide.”

“Shower sex isn’t all it’s cracked up to be,” Donna proclaimed sadly. “We could have been killed that morning.”

“I did warn you that it wasn’t.”

“It was working until you slipped on the spilled conditioner and took me down with you.”

“I told you we should have waited to wash our hair until after we finished having our way with each other.”

“I wanted to give the conditioner time to work. I didn’t realize I had gotten some on the tiles.”

_No, of course you didn’t, bless you.  I also need to invest in a bloody rubber non-slip mat.  
_

“You didn’t notice it either,” she added. _  
_

_I was too worked up to take notice. All I could think about was how fucking good I was feeling at the time.  
_

“I was really looking forward to it,” Lamented Donna. “It always seems like such a sexy thing for lovers to do. I had no idea I would still need lube. I thought the water would be enough. It hurt like hell when you entered me.” _  
_

_I really hate shower sex, but Donna wanted to try it again._ _I need to poll my mates and see where they stand on the subject. Oh, wait. I don’t need to ask Adam. I remember when he and Alice fell through the shower curtain and pulled the bloody thing down on top of them._

“Nothing bad happened when we used the shower at the Nare.”

“That’s because the shower at the Nare was a walk-in with a nice, wide built- in marble bench that I could sit on whilst you sucked me to heavenly oblivion. It also enabled you to comfortably straddle me so we could have proper sex without fear of falling on our arses like we did last week. That shower was designed for couples to have sex in. Mine isn’t nor is this one. These are designed for the sole purpose of cleansing oneself.”

“I wanted to give it a try standing up like they do in the movies. I figured there was room enough to do that. You even have that curved bar to hang the shower curtain on that makes it seem roomier.”

“Adam and Alice also have one of those curved bars that gave them a false sense of security. They wound up falling out of the tub onto the bloody floor for fucks sake!”

_So, Adam does tell him everything that goes on. I need to warn Alice when we have lunch Thursday. She had a feeling those two blab everything to each other.  
_

“Adam thought for sure I’d be taking on my god fatherly duties as he was convinced they were going to wind up in hospital.”

“The shower curtain and scatter rug cushioned their fall a bit. It was a good thing they have wooden floors rather than tile. They could have been hurt worse than they were,” blurted out Donna.

_And I just opened my big mouth. Jeez Louise!_

_So, Alice tells Donna everything that happens. I can’t wait to tell Adam that._

Donna and Benedict both regarded each other warily. Benedict folded his arms and leaned back against the vanity.

“Alice told you about their sex life, and you just broke her confidence,” Benedict declared accusingly. “Shame on you, Donna Saint James.”

“It seems to me that Adam also possesses one of those malfunctioning mouth filters. Did you two get a quantity discount?”

“Adam tells me things all the time…guys always talk about their sex lives.”

“Do they _really_? I’m shocked to hear this,” laughed Donna.

“Apparently, you and Ally also like to partake of tea together.”

“I love how delicately you phrase things sometimes, Benedict.”

Benedict gave her a cheeky smile. “You and Alice must have been shopping at the same store that sells those malfunctioning mouth filters.”

“Touche. How about we call it like it is: the four of us have big mouths.”

“Just for the record, there are things I don’t tell Adam. When it comes to things of a delicate nature such as sex, I am very discrete and keep it close to the vest. I would never broadcast what goes on between us as it’s none of his business. Those private moments are to be cherished by us alone. To confide in him about our most intimate business would be disrespectful to you.”

“Then what do you call the story about the shower mishap?”

“Erm…that was just a humourous anecdote Adam chose to share with me. The same way that Alice chose to share it with you. It had nothing to do with the intimate details that got them there - just that things aren’t as easy as they’re cracked up to be on the silver screen.”

“Yeah, that is how it was. Alice was decorating a set for a movie that had a shower sex scene and that was how we got to discusisng it.  She was complaining that shower sex is not as easy as it looks in the movies. She never talks specifically about what goes on between them and neither do I for the same reasons you just gave me. That is our personal business and not to be shared with anyone.”

“What you see in films is motherfucking simulated sex! It looks easy, but as you found out, it’s not in reality. Standing up shower sex just doesn’t work. It’s hard to find a suitable position, it’s slippery as fuck; and I sure as shit found it nearly impossible to hold you up and thrust at the same time. My arms were aching after only a couple of minutes – and before you get all stropy, it wasn’t because you’re heavy or I’m out of shape. You’re not heavy, and I’m in decent shape. It’s just that it’s hard to hold up someone who’s all soapy and squirming whilst trying to fuck your brains out.”

“I think we needed to be the same height,” mused Donna. “Next time we should buy a little plastic stool so I can stand on it.”

“How about we get a sturdy stool so we can sit on it then? We’ll take turns pleasuring each other under the water. If I recall, you really fancy my hand-held shower head with the vibrating spray setting. It’s safe, sexy and fun for all.”

“Nothing like last week ever happens when we fool around in the bathtub.”

“True, but you need a large soaking tub to enjoy that, as well. Standard home bathtubs are deep enough, but I’m too tall for most of them to stretch out comfortably.”

"Since I've been living in the UK, the one thing I did notice is that the bathtubs are all so deep compared to the ones in the US.  I have trouble getting in and out of them because I'm so short."

"They're built like that so as to better to enjoy a nice, leisurely, soak in," smiled Benedict.  "Not to get laid in."

“You’re not much fun in the bathroom, Benedict.”

“I would be if we had a properly-sized tub and a walk-in shower with one of those built-in benches. Didn’t we have all sorts of deliciously naughty fun in that tub in Cornwall yes?”

“Oh! That was a great soaking tub! I liked how we could both stretch out on opposite ends. We could give each other foot massages.”

“Whilst those were utterly lovely baths, I was referring to the massaging of other bodily parts in the outdoor hot tub.”

Donna’s face reddened considerably at the memory. “We really took a chance that night. That couple almost discovered our midnight tryst.”

“Yes,” smiled Benedict smugly. “And that’s what made such a clandestine romantic encounter all the more exciting – the possibility of getting caught.” He winked at her for emphasis.

“Jeez. You really do love to walk on the wild side, Ben.”

“Sometimes I do. Not all the time. There’s just something about being away in a strange, new place that brings out my sexually adventurous side. The two of us alone in the dead of night, sitting in the tepid water, under the stars as naked as the day we were born. That was such satisfying sex we had. It was absolute heaven that night! Seriously, you don’t feel that way, too?”

Donna thought about it before responding to him.

“I suppose there was something exciting about being wanton like that. However, that newlywed couple almost caught us in the act.”

“We were done by the time they noticed us. They couldn’t tell we were naked from where they were standing. You were facing away from them, so they couldn’t see your breasts were exposed.”

“They looked shocked to find us there.”

“You looked shocked to see them.”

“I was. We barely had time to get our swimsuits back on.”

“You realize they had come for the same reason that we had.”

“ _You_ had. I believed you when you suggested we sit back, relax and do some star-gazing. I had no idea what you were up to until you started to pull off the top of my bikini.”

“Excuse me, but we did do some star-gazing before we got busy. I recall pointing out the Big Dipper, the Little Dipper...and some of the other constellations.”

“And before I knew what was happening, I was suddenly topless,” grinned Donna. “I never even felt you unhook my top.”

“Tell me the truth, Darling. You found it very erotic and exciting, yes?”

Donna laughed nervously. “It was nerve-wracking, but strangely exciting at the same time.”

“It’s called the possibility of discovery. It gets the adrenaline flowing.”

“Yeah. I guess you’re right; but given correctly-sized showers and tubs, we could have our own sexy adventures right in the comfort of our own home. With no risk of anyone barging in and interrupting us.”

_She’s not entirely getting it. Oh, well. I’ll keep trying. Rome wasn’t built in a day either._

“I think that’s what we should look for if we ever buy a home together, Benedict,” said Donna. “What we need is a nice, large spa bathroom with all the amenities of a hotel.”

_Or we could remodel the loo in my flat. If I could only get some money ahead, that would be the first room I’d make over. Though I doubt the existing loo is big enough to accommodate a larger tub. Maybe some of the spare bedroom could be used to enlarge it.  
_

“Well, that’s a lovely dream for now. I’m going to get dressed. I’ll be in the lounge checking my messages,” said Benedict. “Quick as you can now. Karon’s a stickler for punctuality.”

 _Now that’s the pot calling the kettle black,_ Donna chuckled to herself.

  

 

Donna finished applying her makeup and went into her bedroom to get dressed. As she finished hooking her bra and pulling on her panties, her cellphone began to ring.

_Should I ignore it? It might be important. Oh! It’s Sarah!_

“Hello, Mrs. Broderick! What a lovely surprise!”

**_“Hi Honey and greetings from New York! Can you hear me okay? I’m using my new satellite phone.”  
_ **

“Yeah. I can hear you just fine. How are Matt and the kids?” ** _  
_**

**_“Everyone is terrific! The girls are thriving, and I’m loving every minute of motherhood the second time around.”  
_ **

“I’m so happy to hear that. I see that Matt’s play is doing well. Dad even gave it a decent review.” ** _  
_**

**_“How about that? Matt just about fell off his chair when he read it on opening night. Speaking of your dad, I read your email and will respond in depth later tonight after everyone is asleep. The reason I’m calling now is to wish you luck on the red carpet.”  
_ **

“Thank you!” ** _  
_**

**_“Are you nervous or stoked?”  
_ **

“A little of both to be honest.” ** _  
_**

**_“That’s totally normal. I still feel that way after so many, but I promise the nerves will pass quickly. Are you still wearing that strapless number you emailed me the picture of? I really liked it, especially with those Jimmy Choo shoes.”  
_ **

“So far.” ** _  
_**

**_“So far? What do you mean by so far?”_ **

“The weather has gotten colder…and well, I’m not sure about the protocol. What do you do when it’s cold outside and you have to go to one of those things?”

**_“In rare instances, there are some kind of rudimentary heating devices scattered around…like heat lamps and the like. I’ve had long-sleeved gowns for formal occasions – and don’t laugh, but I’ve been known to wear warm tights underneath my gowns if it’s really cold. One time, I had a cape for a premiere. That was fun to wear. For more casual occasions I’ve worn jackets as part of my outfit. How formal is this premiere?”  
_ **

“His PR lady said it was business casual.”

There was silence at the other end.

**_“That dress is more for a cocktail party, Donna.”_ **

“Yikes. I had a feeling you were going to say that.”

**_“What is Benedict wearing?”  
_ **

“A suit.” ** _  
_**

**_“Then don’t sweat it, Donna. As long as you two are wearing something similar, it’s appropriate. I want you to remember that you will see the gamut tonight. There will be others who are all dressed up to the nines and then there’s the other end of the spectrum where folks turn up in jeans and ultra-casual clothes. Don’t sweat it! Just go and have fun and support your man. I’m going to sign off now.  It's almost time for the girls' next feeding.”  
_ **

“I will. Thanks for calling, Sarah. I’ll Skype call you before the end of the week so we can have a face-to-face visit. Please give my love to Matt and the kids.”

Donna finished dressing and went into the lounge to find Benedict dressed and sitting on the white chaise lounge by the window wall fiddling with his cellphone. Benedict immediately ceased whatever he was doing upon seeing her enter the room. Donna was wearing a strapless, full-skirted, black satin cocktail dress with strappy high heels and a pair of small diamond stud earrings. His jaw dropped open as he gave her the once over.

_Christ! She looks bloody gorgeous! I just wish she weren’t so overdressed compared to me. I knew I should have gone with the motherfucking suit, but there wasn't time.  
_

_Good fucking gravy! He’s not wearing a suit! Those long legs of his are clad in jeans…and is that a T-shirt I see? Could it be the cleaners didn’t have his suit ready when he went to pick it up? I bet he took it in at the last minute. That would make sense, but I know Benedict has another suit – albeit that ugly one he wore to the avant garde coal miner wedding._

“Wow, wow, wow! You look smashing, Donna! It will be such a privilege to walk the red carpet with such a beautiful woman on my arm.”

“Thank you, Ben Honey. I decided understated, yet classy was best.”

_I wish I could say the same about you. Where is the suit you said you were going to wear last week? I’m conspicuously overdressed compared to him.  
_

_Bollocks! I look like I’m dressed for a night out at my local rather than a premiere compared to her. I knew I should have thought to bring the suit to the cleaners sooner. Who knew they couldn’t get it done in a afternoon?  
_

“It’s perfect! I’m so fucking proud of you, Darling.”

“I didn’t want to steal your thunder and overdress, but it seems I may have.”

Benedict bit his tongue. _And you did a jolly good job of it._ _I can just hear Karon now: You’re woefully under dressed, Ben. You look like you’re ready to go to the shops to run your errands. I can’t tell Donna I cocked up the timing with getting the suit cleaned. I’ll never hear the bloody end of it._

Donna continued to stare at Benedict’s outfit in disbelief. He was dressed very casually in tight black jeans and a charcoal gray, long-sleeved cotton T-shirt.  His black leather jacket and a black and gray-striped scarf were draped over the back of the couch. His feet were clad in black leather wing-tip shoes and pink socks. _  
_

_Good fucking gravy! I see pink socks. I want to know what became of the black suit. I’m not crazy – when I asked him what he was wearing, he said one of his two suits. I remember I told him how handsome he looks in the black one so he didn’t wear that beige checked one that looks like a picnic tablecloth._

“You’re dressed very casually,” observed Donna, trying to appear nonchalant. “You’re wearing that to a premiere of a movie you’re in?”

Benedict looked down at himself and he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Erm…yes. This is not a tuxedo and gown type of premiere. Didn’t Karon tell you that most people will be dressed in business casual?”

_Ah, ha! Guilt is written all over his face and the nervous neck rub confirms what I suspect. The suit is still at the cleaners. Unfortunately, his definition of business casual does not match mine. That’s ‘let’s go out for a burger and see a movie’ casual or let’s go shopping in the vintage shops and have a picnic in the park casual. I can’t believe he’s wearing that to his own premiere. I would have gone out and bought a new suit for the occasion.  
_

“You did say you were going to wear a suit when I asked you last week…”

_And I had every intention of wearing it. Who knew the fucking dry cleaners need a whole bloody day to clean and press a suit? I’ll tell her I changed my mind. No one really gives a toss about what I’m wearing. It’s nothing for her to get into a strop over.  
_

Benedict shrugged and laughed it off. “That was last week, and this is this week. Didn’t I tell you that men also have the prerogative to change their minds?” he said, playfully wagging his finger at her.

“You should have told me this morning, and I would have changed what I was wearing.”

_Sorry, but I only found out the cleaners couldn’t get my suit done when I went to pick it up right before they closed for the day. How was I to know? This was the first time I needed something in a hurry._

“Sorry, but I wasn’t in the mood to get all dressed up with a suit and tie.”

Benedict crinkled his nose and smiled at her so his dimples showed.

_I will be strong and resist that damn cute nose crinkle this time. I do love his dimples when he smiles like that. It makes him look so boyish. Nope. I’m gonna be strong!_

“I assumed being you’re one of the stars that you would wear a business suit or a jacket over a nice pair of trousers or even jeans.”

_Oh, so now she’s going to tell me how to dress. It’s like having Karon with me full time now. I need to put a stop to this shit immediately._

“Well, you assumed incorrectly, _Sweetheart_.”

_Oh, oh. That was the snotty version of sweetheart. I need to back off and let him wear whatever the hell he wants – even if it’s not appropriate in my eyes. Wait! I can still fix this._

“I’ll go and change,” offered Donna. “I’ll just dress down a bit.”

The lobby intercom buzzed.

“That must be Karon, which means the car won’t be far behind.”

“Doesn’t she come in the car?”

“No. She comes to where ever I happen to be, and we go in the car together. It saves time and money. Don’t forget, I’m ultimately paying for this through her monthly service charge.”

“Okay. Give her a cup of tea and one of the cupcakes while I change.”

“Are you taking the piss on me? She’ll put the bloody fairy cake over my head!”

“You need to stop stressing, Benedict. Just tell Karon to make herself at home, and I’ll be right out.”

“NOOOO! You don’t understand! There’s not enough time for you to change,” said Benedict, going to the intercom. “You need time to change. Karon will have an absolute strop!”

“I don’t need that much time. You make it sound as if I need an hour.”

_Not quite, but close at times. What in the fuck am I going to tell Karon?_

Benedict fixed her with a look as his pushed the speak button on the intercom. “Hello!” he spoke calmly into the intercom.

“There’s a Miss Maskill here,” announced Tom, the night doorman. “She said she’s expected.”

“Yes, she is. Please send her up,” instructed Benedict, moving his thumb off the intercom button. “Where in the hell are you going?” he demanded as Donna ran down the hallway.

“To change! I promise it will only take me a minute,” she called back over her shoulder as she disappeared into the bedroom, slamming the door shut behind her.

_NO! She needs at least half an hour to get undressed and dressed. Karon will dress me down if we’re late because Donna decided to change her motherfucking dress! She’s used to me being late, but she won’t tolerate it from Donna. She’ll leave her here. Oh, fuck me! Why do these things always happen?  
_

_*****************************************************_

Karon Maskill exited the lift and walked down the Berber carpeted hallway to Donna’s flat. She knocked on the door briskly and waited patiently for someone to answer the door.

_Where in the hell is he? I would have expected one of them to have let me in by now.  
_

Karon sighed and looked behind her. There were two other flats on the floor in addition to the one she stood before. One was almost directly across from Donna’s and the other was at the end of the hallway. The walls were painted a soft beige colour and there were oil paintings of London hung at intervals along the walls. She had not even noticed the long, narrow table just outside the lift that had two candle-stick lamps on either end. The table was flanked by two comfortable-looking chairs. Beyond that was an alcove that contained the rubbish and recycle bins.

_It’s certainly a quiet building. I can’t hear any noise coming from inside the other flats. Ben did tell the doorman to send me up; so they’re expecting me. The lift only took a couple of minutes at most to get up to this floor being it only stopped once to let that man off. Where in the hell are they?  
_

Karon knocked again – more briskly this time - and waited. There was no response. She put her ear to the door, but couldn’t hear a sound coming from inside.

_I’ll never understand Ben if I live to be one hundred. Hmmm…I wonder if they aren’t ready and are rushing about like two headless chickens. I warned him to be on time tonight!_

Karon’s mobile began to ring. It was her partner, Eddie Izzard.

“Yes, Eddie,” she said curtly.

**_“Someone sounds annoyed as hell. What did I do?”_ **

Karon sighed wearily. “Nothing. I’m sorry to take out my annoyance on you.”

**_“Shall I safely assume that the cause of your strop is because your favourite client is late again.”_ **

“Yes, you may. What’s even more annoying is that I had high hopes for his new girlfriend. She seemed like the punctual type.”

**_“I didn’t’ t want to disturb you, but I just wanted to ask…”_ **

“Excuse me for a minute.”

Karon covered the mouthpiece on her mobile and proceeded to pound on the door this time.

“Ben! Donna! It’s Karon,” she called out loudly. “I’m here to pick you up. Could someone please let me in?”

**_“For God’s sake, Karon! Not only did I hear you loud and clear, but I wager everyone else in the building did as well!”  
_ **

“This is a very posh building with only three flats per floor. It’s the triangle-shaped one I pointed out to you last Sunday when we were walking along South Bank. I doubt anyone heard me.” ** _  
_**

**_“Have you considered calling one of their mobiles or her landline if she has one?”_ **

Karon barked out a laugh. “I knew you had a good reason for calling me! Brilliant suggestion, my love. I’ll check in with you whilst their viewing the movie. We need to discuss which of those invitations to accept on your behalf.”

**_“We agreed that there would be no work discussions in our home, remember? This is our sanctuary.”  
_ **

“Well, I’m not at home right now. I’m stood in a plush-carpeted hallway with enough expensive oil paintings to fill one of the rooms in the Tate, twiddling my thumbs.”

**_“I am at home, and I don’t wish to discuss work commitments. This is my down time, Karon; and I intend to relax and enjoy it.”_ **

“Alright then. We’ll have lunch tomorrow at Caprice and discuss it then.”

**_“That’s much more agreeable, don’t you think?”_ **

“I’ll ring you back later to chat a bit. Cheers.”

**_“Wait! You didn’t let me ask my question.”_ **

“So sorry, Love. Go ahead.”

**_“Have you seen Tess’s chew toy. The one that looks like a turkey drumstick?”_ **

“Try under the bed. It’s her new preferred hiding place during thunder storms. She may have left it there after this morning’s round of showers.”

**_“Hope all goes smoothly tonight. Cheers.”_ **

Karon dialed Benedict’s mobile and waited. It went directly to voicemail.

_That right bastard! I could just kill him about now!  
_

“Ben, I’m stood here in the hallway in front of Donna’s flat. Do you think one of you could come answer the door?”

She next tried Donna’s mobile, which also went to voicemail.

_Bloody hell! I never thought to ask her if she had a landline.  
_

“Donna, this is Karon Maskill. I’ve been knocking on the door to your flat for the past ten minutes. Could either you or Ben let me in please?”

 She paused to check her watch and grimaced.

“Damn! The car’s going to be here any time now! Where in the hell are they?” she shouted to no one in particular and pounded on Donna’s door with her fist. “Ben! Donna! Hello! It’s Karon!”

The doorway across the hall opened, and a brown-haired young man with chocolate brown eyes poked his head out at her with amusement.

“So neither of them are answering the door yet?” he asked in an Irish accent, eyes twinkling.

_Well, that answers my question. You can hear inside those flats. Oh, I know him. That’s Andrew Scott. How interesting that he’s Donna’s neighbor. I never thought he could afford to rent in a building like this._

“Unfortunately,” replied Karon impatiently. “I’ve been knocking on the door and ringing their mobiles with no luck.”

“You’re Ben’s agent, Karon Maskill,” said Andrew, opening the door to his flat wider.

Karon nodded. “Yes. I’m here to pick them up for a premiere.”

Andrew nodded. “Tonight’s the _Creation_ premiere.”

“Does his girlfriend have a land line?”

“Yeah. Let me ring her. Why don’t you come in whilst I make the call.”

 

**************************************************************************************************************************************************************

 

Benedict dashed down the hallway and burst into Donna’s bedroom to find the dress she had been wearing already on a hangar lying on the bed. She was struggling to zip up another one, which wasn’t as dressy.

"I thought this heavier knit dress and black tights would complement your outfit.  I've got a matching beret I can add, too."

"Thank you, Donna!  This dress is lovely as well, and more practical given the weather."

_That was fast. She done fooled me. Perhaps I can meet her halfway so we don’t look like the Princess and the Pauper._

“I suppose I could wear my black velvet jacket. It’s in your wardrobe,” offered Benedict, crossing the room to the walk-in and taking it out. He studied it as he held up the hangar for Donna to see. “This should dress up what I’m wearing yes?”

_Shit, no! Not that ugly jacket. What he’s wearing looks better than that. I must remember to be diplomatic about it. I don’t want to offend him._

“Ummm…I think the leather jacket compliments what you’re wearing far better than that would, Ben Honey.”

_Translation: She thinks my velvet jacket is ghastly. I really cocked it up this time. Liv and I never had this problem. Hell, we never, ever, consulted each other as to what we were going to wear. However, I did hear Donna make a snarky comment to her sister that Liv didn’t have good taste in clothing.  
_

“If you’re quite sure then.”

“Quite sure.”

_I’ve never been so sure in my damn life, Benedict. No velvet jacket!_

Benedict reluctantly put the jacket back in the wardrobe along with Donna’s first dress. “I’m so sorry this happened. It’s my fault for not keeping with the suit in the first place.”

_It’s my fault for not taking it to the cleaners earlier in the week, which you don’t need to know.  
_

_Stop bullshitting me, Benedict. I know you like a book. I did overdo it, to be fair._

“No, it was my fault for overdressing. Karon did say business casual, not a cocktail party. You look fine, Benedict. Those jeans look very hot on you. Could you please just zip me up before Karon gets here?”

“Of course,” Benedict said, moving behind her, and kissing her neck as he pulled up the zipper. “This dress is every bit as lovely and more covered up, so you won’t feel as cold.”

Benedict and Donna’s message chimes both went off at the same time as Donna’s bedside landline began to ring.

“Christ, we’re suddenly so popular!” he laughed. “I wonder who’s trying to track us down.”

“Do you want to see who’s calling the land line, Ben Honey?” Donna asked as she changed her earrings to a pair of pearl studs.  

Benedict sat on the side of the bed and took a look at the caller ID.

“It’s Andrew Scott,” he said to Donna. “Shall I answer it?”

“Absolutely!”

“Hello.”

**_“Hi Ben. It’s Andrew. You’re publicist is here in my flat. I'd offer her a cuppa whislt you finish up whatever it is you're doing;  but I've got to be at the Young Vic soon.”_ **

Donna started as Benedict groaned loudly from behind her. He ran his free hand through his thick, curls.

**_"I know my understudy would be pleased as fuck if I weren't' to show up, but I really fancy this role and hate to have to ask your publicist to sit in the hallway."_ **

“Bloody hell! I forgot about…!”

 ** _“She’d like to have a word with you,”_** said Andrew hesitantly.

“What’s wrong?” Donna asked with concern.

“Everything! It’s Karon,” Benedict replied, covering the mouthpiece.

“Oh, no! We forgot about her! She must be furious!”

“Hello, Karon,” began Benedict sheepishly. “I’m so sorry…”

**_“I’m been stood outside in the hallway in front of Donna’s flat, knocking on the door like a fool for the past ten minutes. Do either of you intend to let me in?”  
_ **

“We got caught up in some minor outfit adjustments.” ** _  
_**

**_“If it’s too much of a bother, I can always take a seat near the lift so Mr. Scott can get to his job on time whilst I wait for you two to properly ready yourselves. Or I can even go back down to the lobby and do some emails. I’m sure they’ll hold the film for us if I call and explain that your outfits needed tweaking.”_ **

Benedict sighed deeply. “Sorry, Karon. I’ll be right there.”

“Is she mad?” asked Donna as she changed her shoes.

“Erm…yeah. You know, you got changed much faster than I imagined you would.”

“You can thank my high school drama club teacher, Mr. Hawkins, for that! We had to learn to change costumes quickly in between scenes – just like you do when you’re in a play.”

“And you’re a credit to him,” chuckled Benedict Cumberbatch as he left the room.

Donna finished brushing her hair and took one last look in the full-length mirror.   She struck a pose like Karon had taught her.

“There! Perfect! It’s time for my close up, Mr. DeMille,” she giggled out loud.

“Just take along a coat to wear because you’ll catch a chill out there, Miss Desmond,” quipped Benedict from behind her. She could see his amused expression reflected in the mirror.

Donna jumped. “You’re supposed to be letting Karon in! You scared me!” She grabbed a full length black leather coat, small clutch bag and followed him out of the room.

"I wanted to make sure you had something sensible to cover up with, but I see you came to your senses and took a proper coat."

"See, we'll both be wearing black leather."

"What in the fuck was all that exaggerated posturing about just now?"

“I was just practicing the pose Karon taught me.”

“Jesus. Fuck,” mumbled Benedict under his breath. _That was too over-the-top. She may be a credit to her drama teacher, but certainly not to Karon._ “Forget what Karon told you, Love. Just follow _my_ instructions when we get there, and you’ll be fine.”

Donna raised a skeptic eyebrow at him.

“I promise not to make you look like a horse’s arse!” said Benedict, as he kissed her soundly on the cheek. “I’ve been doing this for a long time, so you can put your complete trust in me.”

 _Somehow, coming from him, I don’t find that very comforting_ , thought Donna Saint James.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I don't know how premieres work and the procedure for the stars getting there. I'm winging it to suit my story line.
> 
> 2\. Sarah Jessica Parker and Matthew Broderick had twin girls via surrogate in 2009.
> 
> 3\. I always thought it was strange that Benedict was so casually dressed for his premiere.


	112. Chapter 112

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 1 of the Creation Premiere: Donna gets a real-time lesson in Red Carpet 101 as she witnesses Benedict and Karon in action. 
> 
> Note: I’ll be using ************* for things happening at the same time.

 

 

Benedict Cumberbatch opened the door to Donna Saint James’s flat. There stood his publicist, Karon Maskill, who had looked happier. 

_Fuck me! Look at that scowl. We got so caught up in what to wear and what not to wear that I forgot she was coming straight up._

“I’m so, so sorry for making you wait, Karon,” Benedict said sheepishly. “We simply lost track of time…you know…something that you think will only take a minute winds up taking five.” 

“It was almost fifteen, but how about we meet in the middle and call it a good, solid ten,” said Karon irritably. 

“I had every intention of waiting here to let you in, but…” 

_And he’s still making excuses whilst I’m stood here in the blasted hallway, bless him.  
_

“You may dispense with the apologies, Ben. I’m used to your warped sense of time,” sighed Karon wearily. “Do you think I could come through now?” 

Benedict’s face reddened considerably, as he stepped aside holding the door wide open. “Oh! Yeah! Of course! Where are my fucking manners?” _  
_

_On another planet with your fucking mouth filter no doubt. _I could swear we discussed his wearing a suit or at least a jacket.  He looks as if he's ready to go out on his motorbike.  Perhaps Donna was trying to talk him around into changing though knowing Ben once his mind's been made up, there's little one can do to change it.__

Donna eagerly rushed up to join Benedict at the door. She appeared to be a little harried from whatever she had been doing. 

_Hmmm…That's not what she was originally going to wear.  I distinctly recall her telling me she planned to wear a dressy black dress and heels. Now, I see she's also dressed down to compliment his outfit, so I'll safely assume she lost the battle of what to wear.  However, she looks lovely_ , thought Karon, looking Donna up and down. _It's actually_ _a good look for this type of red carpet, and I don't have to worry about her falling on her bum trying to walk on high heels. Well done her._

“Please come in, Karon. I’m afraid I have to take sole blame for your wait this time. I decided to change my dress at the last minute and needed Benedict’s help with the zipper. I hope this is an appropriate look.”

 _It was better you changed than to make him look like an undressed arse,_ thought Karon.  

"And you did say it was business casual," continued Donna, obviously seeking Karon's approval.

"That I did," confirmed Karon, glaring at her client.  "Although some people in this room seem to confuse business casual with casual."

"And that would be me," Benedict sighed heavily.  "I really do know the difference you know."

"You could have fooled me," Karon snorted. 

 _Crap!  I notice she hasn't answered me,_ thought Donna. _I guess we failed Red Carpet Haute Couture 101; but she has no idea what I'm working with...actually, she probably does and figured out what happened._

"Please make yourself comfortable, Karon," said Donna, leading the way into the living room as Benedict shut the door behind her.

"I had no idea that Andrew Scott lived just across the hall,” Karon mused as she followed Donna. “Thank goodness he heard me or I’d still be out there.” She glared pointedly at Benedict. 

“Do we have to leave right now?” asked Donna. 

“The driver will call when he’s in front of the building,” replied Karon, checking her watch. “He’s due within the next fifteen minutes. I always build extra time into the pickups just in case Ben is running late.” 

“Can I get you a snack to tide you over while we wait?” offered Donna. 

Karon nodded as she took a visual inventory of the room. “I would fancy a cup of tea, thank you. Your flat is quite lovely and the view is cracking!” 

Donna went to the kitchen, filled the induction kettle with water and turned it on. “It’s not mine per se. I just sublet it from an oil executive who’s temporarily residing in Saudi Arabia. I think the view is the best part, though it’s not as beautiful as the one from Benedict’s apartment. Now, that is truly spectacular!” 

“That it is,” agreed Karon. “Hampstead is one of the poshest areas in North London.” 

“And the only reason I’m there is because the former owner offered me a super deal,” said Benedict. “Needing some work also helped to bring down the asking price.” 

“What kind of tea would you like? I’ve got English Breakfast, Earl Grey, Lapsang Souchong, regular tea…” 

“Regular tea?” inquired Karon, frowning at Donna in puzzlement. 

“She means the bagged tea from the States that she fancies,” translated Benedict with a smirk. “It actually makes an acceptable cuppa in a pinch.” 

Karon laughed. “Oh! That’s a new one on me then. Regular tea.” 

“Lipton tea is the best of the US brands in my humble opinion,” said Donna defensively. “It’s a blend of black and orange pekoe. I have both regular and decaffeinated.” 

“Red carpets call for caffeine,” declared Karon. 

“And an abundance of liquor afterwards,” added Benedict. 

“I’m sure there will be plenty at the after party,” reassured Karon. 

“I even have chocolate mint tea if you prefer,” piped up Donna, pulling out a small tin. 

“I’m not into those fancy flavoured teas.” 

“Not to worry, Karon, I made sure Donna has proper tea in the house,” smirked Benedict. 

Donna flashed Benedict an annoyed look. _Hmmm…The Tea Sommelier of Hampstead is at it again. I know how to make tea. He’s shown me several times now._

“I had proper tea before I met you,” hissed Donna in a barely audible voice. “Stop showing off, it doesn’t become you!” 

“Earl Grey would be lovely,” said Karon. 

Donna got down a mug and filled it with hot water in order to warm it. She could see that her action clearly impressed Karon. 

“Benedict taught me all his knows about how to correctly brew tea.” 

“Since, Ben makes a brilliant cuppa, I’ll consider myself in good hands then,” smiled Karon.

“I’ll make the tea,” volunteered Benedict, entering the kitchen and getting out a tin of loose leaf Earl Grey tea from the cabinet. 

_What is he doing? I thought I was making the tea._

Donna narrowed her eyes at him. “Are you insinuating that my tea-making skills aren’t up to your high standards?” 

“Not at all. I’m only trying to help.” Benedict crinkled his nose at her and smiled. 

“I think you’re afraid that I’ll embarrass you.” 

“Erm…well…no. Of course not.” 

“After all, you are the one who taught me everything I know about how to make an acceptable cup of tea for any English guests who happen to visit.” 

“I know I did.” 

_Half a dozen times, and she’s only just starting to catch on, bless her. Karon’s very fussy about her tea._

“I can do it, Benedict,” insisted Donna thru gritted teeth. 

“No, you won’t. Your tea isn’t up to Karon’s standards.” Benedict opened a drawer and filled a tea ball with a rounded spoonful of the tea leaves. 

_I see he’s going to be a first-class prick about it. If he wants to make her a cup of tea that badly, let him do it. I’ll go chat with Karon._

“Feel free to knock yourself out,” snapped Donna, as she filled a plate with the remainder of the cupcakes. 

Karon was standing in front of the wall of windows looking out over the Thames. “Just bloody beautiful,” she said to Donna, who came to join her at the window after setting the plate down on the coffee table. “Eddie and I were walking Tess past here only last week and were wondering what the views would be like from this building.” 

“Maybe you both can come over for dinner one night, and Eddie can see for himself.” 

Benedict filled Karon’s beaker and set the timer to brew it when he heard Donna issue the invitation. 

_Is Donna crackers? Actors don’t hang out with their publicists. I’ve hired Karon to do a job for me, not to be my friend. I’ll have to explain it to her once we’re alone again.  
_

“Publicists don’t make it a habit to socialize with their clients, Donna; but we’ll see,” said Karon with a noncommittal smile. “Eddie’s been very busy lately, so his free time is at a premium.” 

_She means no, but is being diplomatic about letting me down. This is strictly a business relationship. No more invitations._

Benedict took Karon her tea, and they all took a seat in the lounge area. Donna and Benedict sat next to each other on the couch with Karon perched on the end of the white chaise lounge. Donna noted that Karon had helped herself to the chocolate fudge cupcake and was taking dainty nibbles of it. 

_I like how Karon’s taking care to make sure the crumbs fall onto her napkin whenever she takes a bite._

“So how do we look, Karon? Do we pass the red carpet outfit test?” Donna asked in a teasing tone. 

_Christ! Why is she asking Karon that?  She's already passed one snarky comment, and now Donna has invited her to give her critique. Fuck me! I’ve been waiting for her to say something ever since she laid dagger eyes on me,_ thought Benedict miserably. _I know it’s only a matter of time, but thanks to Donna’s big mouth this will only hasten my dressing down._

“One of you did. You look lovely, Donna,” replied Karon. “I couldn’t have picked out a more appropriate outfit myself. Business casual, yet not under dressed. Jolly well done!” 

_I wish I could have picked out her outfit,_ thought Donna with amusement. _She does like her low-cut tops and the just-got-laid-looking hair. I would never take her for a publicist in a million years.  
_

“Thanks. I never told you; but my original choice was an off-the-shoulder black cocktail dress.” 

_Holy Mary!  She would have been grossly overdressed in something like that!_ thought Karon.  _Him in his casual jeans and t-shirt and her in a cocktail dress!_

“Which was also very lovely,” added Benedict, crossing his legs. 

"You never said it was a cocktail dress, Donna.  I was thinking more 'little black dress'. I'm glad you changed as it was probably too dressy for this type of event," commented Karon.

Karon looked at the two of them sitting side-by-side with a critical eye. She took a sip of her tea and indicated Benedict’s exposed ankle with the beaker. 

“Love your pink socks. It’s such a welcome little pop of colour against all that black and grey.” 

_Now, that was unbridled sarcasm if I ever heard it. No wonder my honey fears her. Karon reminds me of Dad, only in publicist form._

“I fancy my pink socks,” retorted Benedict, nose in the air. “As you pointed out, they do add a rather refreshing jolt of colour to my outfit yes?” 

Karon unsuccessfully attempted to hide a scowl as she glanced pointedly at Donna and then back to an insolent-looking Benedict. 

_Good gravy! Does Karon think for one minute that I condoned or had any influence over what he decided to wear?  
_

“Did you consult each other about what you were planning on wearing?” inquired Karon as diplomatically as she could. 

_She does think I had something to do with it! Oh, I need to set her straight!  
_

“I had _nothing_ to do with his choice of clothing tonight,” stated Donna emphatically. “As far as I knew he was going to wear a suit tonight. I was as surprised as you were.” 

“I did say business casual, didn’t I, Ben?” 

Benedict nodded. “Yes, you did. Several times in addition to the text message and email.” 

“You’ve certainly brought new meaning to the phrase, business casual.” 

“Then well done me,” snickered Benedict. 

“Business casual does _not_ include jeans that you wear around town to do errands and whatnot…” 

“I just happened to read in the latest issue of Cosmo that jeans are now perfectly acceptable for more formal occasions, provided they are accessorized properly,” said Benedict defensively.  

“… no matter how well fitted they happen to be.” 

_Hahaha! Karon noticed how nicely they hug his adorable ass! I love that!_

Karon paused and once again looked from Donna to her client. She looked puzzled. 

“What did you just say about Cosmo?” 

“That jeans are considered proper attire for almost any occasion provided they are….” 

Karon held up her hand. “Who is this Cosmo?” 

“It’s an American magazine, aimed at women,” replied Donna, trying not to laugh. “My friend, Sarah, gave me a subscription as one of my Christmas gifts. Apparently, Benedict is also fond of reading it.” 

Karon rolled her eyes. “Oh. It’s one of those rubbish mags.” 

“They have some great sex tips,” remarked Benedict, casually adjusting the sleeves of his T-shirt.  He looked up from under his eyelashes to gauge Karon’s reaction. 

“But apparently, not such brilliant fashion advice,” shot back Karon. 

“Sarah Jessica Parker reads it,” snickered Benedict. “And if it’s bloody good enough for her, then it’s bloody good enough for me.” 

“Bloody hell, Ben! How on earth would you know that – and what does Sarah Jessica Parker this have to do with our discussion?” 

“She’s the Sarah who gifted me with the subscription,” said Donna quietly. “It was meant as a joke,” she quickly added. 

Benedict sat back and relished the look of sheer surprise on Karon’s face as the connection registered. 

“Oh. How did you two become acquainted, if I may ask?” 

_Good job, Benedict. You got her off the track.  
_

_Well done, me. Dressing down successfully averted for a bit._

“We met in New York at a Food TV Network event my sister was attending. I was her plus one, and Sarah was one of the invited celebrity guests. We got to chatting about why no one makes Jell-o molds anymore…” 

“Jell-o molds?” Karon looked at Benedict, who rolled his eyes and shrugged. 

“Jelly molds,” he mouthed. 

“…and things just clicked,” finished Donna. 

“You claimed to be a red carpet novice; but surely you had some knowledge about red carpet events being you’re friends with a celebrity who is often walking them,” said Karon. “I’m confused by our conversation that day in my office then.” 

“Hmmm…that is a good point,” mused Benedict. “You should know all about these things between her and your dad being a critic.” 

“Yes, I should know. As I told Karon that day in her office, I’ve never really been interested in red carpet and premiere protocol. I was only interested in what the stars wore, what kinds of food were served at the after parties; and if my dad liked the movie or play he was reviewing.” 

_It’s all about the food, bless her,_ thought Benedict with amusement. 

“Sarah is one of my best friends. However, when we get together we seldom talk about things like red carpets or premieres in great detail. She only mentions them when relating a funny anecdote about something that happened or to discuss what the other actresses were wearing. What I’m really interested in is when Sarah describes the food that was served at the events,” Explained Donna. 

“Why didn’t you ask her for advice on what to wear and how to behave at a premiere?” inquired Karon. “I certainly would have had I access to someone with first-hand experience.” 

_This is just like being quizzed by Barrister Ben. I think I’m going to start referring to her as Barrister Bertha. I love how serenely the love of my life is sitting beside me taking this all in rather than trying to take the heat off of me. Silly me! What was I thinking? By letting her grill me like a steak, it takes the heat off of him. Clever man, my Benedict.  
_

“The truth is Sarah and her husband recently welcomed a set of twins by surrogate; so they’ve been very busy adjusting.” 

“I do remember reading about that in the papers,” commented Karon. “Girls yes?” 

“Tabitha and Marion,” confirmed Donna. 

“By the way, twins run in Donna’s family,” said Benedict. “I would be utterly over the moon to have twin daughters one day.” He smiled at Donna with a dreamy look in his eyes. “Such a blessing that would be! Don’t you agree, Darling?” 

_At least he didn’t say it would be an embarrassment of riches,_ thought Donna. 

Donna patted his hand reassuringly. “Very much so. As for boys or girls, the sex doesn’t matter to me. I’ve grown up with both.” 

“We’ll be sure to have some of both,” said Benedict adamantly. “You know the old adage: if at first you don’t succeed…” 

“There are never any guarantees, Ben,” reminded Karon. “You can never predict or plan for these things with such certainty. Nature sometimes throws you a curve ball no matter how much you may wish for something. My Dad wanted nothing but boys and got all girls instead,” she laughed. 

_Is he ever broody,_ thought Karon. _I see he’s already turning up the heat on Donna to start a family with him. I remember what he used to do to Olivia. I would have left him, too.  
_

“Benedict is fond of putting the cart before the horse,” teased Donna while patting his knee. “We’ve got plenty of time.” 

“And we also have a premiere to get through,” added Karon. “What were we talking about before we got on the subject of babies? Oh, yes, you were telling me about your friend, Sarah.” 

_Karon really does remind me of Benedict. She wants her answer._

“In answer to your question, Karon, I did email Sarah a photo of my black dress, which she loved.  However, once she heard it was business casual, she mentioned that it might be too much.  At the time, I thought Benedict was wearing his black suit; so Sarah said it would be fine as long as our looks complimented each other.  I suppose I could have picked Sarah’s brain more about it; and I’m also sure she would have been more than happy to oblige me. However, it didn’t seem right to pester her with questions about red carpets and premiere etiquette at such a special and busy time in her life – especially when I had you to coach me,” smiled Donna. “And I am grateful to you for taking an interest in me.” 

“It’s part of my job to take an interest in you because I’m paid by Ben to do so – indirectly, of course,” said Karon brusquely. “It’s included in my fee. When my client is in a relationship, I need to be in on it…whether it’s a stable relationship or whether it’s an unstable one. This way, I know how to adjust his or her responses to fit their public persona.” 

“Our relationship is very stable!” exclaimed Donna. “Right, Ben Honey?” She squeezed his knee and smiled up at him. 

“We couldn’t be happier – even if she still can’t brew a cuppa for shit.” Benedict leaned down and kissed Donna gently on the lips. “Just taking the piss, Darling. Your tea making skills have vastly improved since that first time you tea-bagged me,” he added with a wink. 

Karon almost choked on her bite of cupcake. _I do adore how he feels the need to spout double entendres.  Donna looks uncomfortable._

“It seems the double-entendre feature on your mouth filter is stuck in the ‘on’ position,” said Donna under her breath. “Please turn it off.” 

“Well, we’ve really gotten off track this time,” declared Karon, blotting her lips on the paper napkin Donna had provided. 

_So much for the fine art of distraction,_ thought Benedict. _It never works with her.  
_

_I see Benedict is rubbing his thigh. He knows she’s going to put him on the spot,_ thought Donna. 

“You’re not exactly dressed appropriately for this premiere, Ben,” Began Karon. “If you were going to just view the film, then fine. However, you’re in the film and will be posing with your co-stars. You needed to wear a suit or at the very least, a jacket.” 

Benedict threw up his hands in surrender. “Okay! It’s not that I didn’t _want_ to wear a suit. I had every intention of wearing my black one, but the truth is - I didn’t take it to the bloody cleaners in time.” 

_Ah ha! The truth finally comes out_ , thought Donna. 

“When did you think to take it?” asked Karon. 

“This morning,” Benedict responded guiltily, head bowed. 

“Jeez Benedict! Talk about cutting it close!” exclaimed Donna. “I had a feeling it was something like that.” 

“Who knew they couldn’t get the bloody thing cleaned and pressed in half a day?” 

“Apparently _you_ didn’t,” snickered Karon, rolling her eyes. “What about your other suit?” 

Benedict returned to rubbing his thigh. “Erm…I never brought it to the cleaners. It’s still in my suitcase from when I wore it to a wedding.” 

“What an interesting and unique concept for handling dirty laundry when traveling,” quipped Donna. “It’s like having a travel wardrobe that you just unpack, wash and re-pack when it’s time for your next trip.” 

“I normally unpack my shit straight into the washer,” Protested Benedict. “However, that’s actually a brilliant idea, Love! I wouldn’t have to worry about what to pack when I have to go out of town. Everything would already be sorted.” 

Donna and Karon exchanged glances. Karon finished her cupcake. 

“You really need to invest in another suit,” remarked Karon. "One that's cut to flatter your frame.  The black one is a bit big on you." 

“I think I can sort this out to your satisfaction, Karon. I’ve got my black velvet jacket here,” said Benedict getting to his feet. “I can wear that with the jeans, and it’ll be fine according to the fashion gurus at Cosmo.” 

“I suppose we’ll have to make to do with that, though it’s not my favourite look on you,” declared Karon. 

“It’s better than nothing yes?” said Benedict. 

“Yes. Now, quick as you can now,” shooed Karon. “It’s getting…” 

_NO! What are you saying, Karon? That velvet jacket looks horrible! The leather one looks better, even though it is casual._

“Excuse me, but I personally think Benedict looks better with what he’s already planned on wearing,” interrupted Donna emphatically. "He's wearing a leather jacket, and I have my leather coat."

_Bloody hell! Donna’s going to quibble with Karon about the motherfucking jacket now!  
_

_This is why I hate when my clients have significant others who feel the need to butt into my business. Olivia never put her two cents in. She just showed up and that was the end of it. This one thinks she’s a fashionista. To be fair though, she has been dressed properly the two times I’ve seen her.  
_

“I realize you mean well, Donna; and only want the best for Ben – as I do; but…” 

Benedict whirled around and stopped in his tracks as he looked from Donna to Karon and back again. He ran his hands through his hair. 

“Bloody fucking hell!” He exclaimed in frustration. “Can you two please stop bickering over what I’m wearing or not wearing!” 

“Ben, do you happen to have a pair of black trousers here that you could change into?” asked Karon. 

“No, I don’t. Frankly, I’m the one who should be deciding what in the hell to clothe my body in,” snapped Benedict. 

“Not when you’re walking a red carpet and about to be seen by quite a few people,” retorted Karon. “You hired me to help present a positive public image of you.” 

“Well, I do agree with you up to a point, Karon…” began Donna. 

“Jolly good then. I see we’re on the same page,” said Karon dismissively, as her mobile began to ring. “And that should be the car. Unfortunately, now there’s no time for you to change, damn it!” 

_Benedict’s been saved from an even greater fashion faux pas by the car,_ thought Donna with relief. _While I do agree he needed to wear a suit or a nice jacket, Karon’s not exactly a fashion plate in my book that she should be freely dispensing advice on how to dress to him. They could both benefit from consulting a stylist!_

“Good. Then the motherfucking jacket is a moot point,” said Benedict, slipping on his leather jacket and winding the black and grey-striped scarf around his neck. He picked up Donna’s leather coat and held it open for her to shrug into. 

“Karon Maskill speaking. Thank you.” She looked at Benedict and Donna. “The car’s just arrived downstairs. Shall we gather up our things and get underway then?” 

 

 

Donna Saint James sat in the back seat of the silver Mercedes with Benedict, while Karon sat in the passenger seat beside the driver. Donna noticed that she spent the whole time texting and making calls as the car crawled through the traffic towards the Curzon theatre. Carly had texted her that she and Steven had taken a cab earlier as had Benedict’s parents. They made plans to meet up in the lobby of the theatre as soon as the rep carpet walk was over. 

“So how did the interviews at Carldonn go today?” Benedict asked. “Did you and Carly find any uni students to fit the bill?” 

_Yes, we did and wait until he hears who these students are. I guess I should fill him in.  
_

“Actually, we did find our buyer and bookkeeper interns. We were both so impressed that we made them an offer, which they both accepted. They were very well-qualified, and I can see them growing with the company.” 

“That’s wonderful news, Darling,” said Benedict, popping a stick of gum into his mouth. 

“Is that nicotine gum? You always chew cinnamon gum, this smells like cherry,” observed Donna. 

“I just need a couple of chews, and I’ll ditch it before we get to the theatre. I have a horrible craving for a fag right now.” 

“I understand. It’s been extra hard for you the past couple of weeks with my parents visiting and all.” 

“That’s putting it mildly,” sighed Benedict. “So, tell me about your new interns. Are they business majors then?” 

“Yes, they are. One is taking marketing courses, the other accounting – which is exactly what we were looking for. Both are honor students.” 

“They sound perfect. I’m looking forward to meeting them.” 

“You already know both of them.” 

Benedict looked surprised. “Do they dabble in acting on the side? I can’t imagine from where else I would I know them. What are their names?” 

Donna swallowed hard. _Here goes nothing._

“Emily Peacock and Heather McPherson.” 

“Isn’t that your niece and her best friend?” inquired Karon from the front seat. 

_Interesting. Karon’s been listening to our conversation all this time. Benedict wasn’t kidding about her._

Benedict gazed out the window and tapped his fingers on the arm rest. “Yes. Yes, it is.” He sat with his lips drawn tightly in a fine line. 

_Crap. I knew he wasn’t going to be happy about this,_ thought Donna. 

 

********************************************************

 

Wanda and Timothy Cumberbatch arrived at the _Creation_ premiere with plenty of time to spare. After a quick debate, they had opted to bypass the red carpet and go straight into the Curzon theatre. They made their way to the lobby, where Wanda spotted Donna’s sister and her husband milling about. 

“Look! It’s Donna’s sister and brother-in-law,” said Wanda, waving at the young couple to come join them. 

“Hello!” said Steve Cipriano, shaking both Wanda and Timothy’s hands. “It’s nice to see we aren’t the only ones who are early.” 

“We’re always disgustingly early, which is something we can’t say about our offspring,” quipped Timothy. 

“Tim and I were just taking bets as to how late he’s going to be tonight,” added Wanda. “Despite his publicist’s best efforts, Ben somehow always manages to be one of the last arrivals.” 

“He shouldn’t be one of the last arrivals this time. They are on their way according to Donna,” reported Carly. “When I last texted her, they were stuck in traffic not too far from here.” 

Wanda smiled. “Donna has been a good influence on our Ben, bless her.” 

“We can’t blame him for being late due to the traffic though,” said Steven. “It’s extra heavy tonight.” 

“There’s always an abundance of traffic in London,” remarked Timothy. “They would have fared better to take public transport as we did; but I suppose they could hardly do that.” 

“We started our journey in a cab, but we were going nowhere fast; so we ditched it and took the tube,” said Steven. “It saved us a lot of time.” 

“And money no doubt,” added Wanda with a laugh. 

“We do the same back home,” said Carly. “We decide the most direct way is to take a cab and then realize it’ll take twice as long due to the traffic – especially, the crosstown traffic - so we wind up taking the subway. It’s always faster; and as you pointed out, Wanda, cheaper.” 

“How about we have a drink whilst we wait for them to arrive,” suggested Timothy. “Once they get here, it will take a good half hour for them to make their way down the carpet especially if Ben stops to give interviews.” 

“In that case we’ll have plenty of time for a second round as well,” quipped Wanda as she led the way to the bar. 

 

*********************************************************

  

Benedict Cumberbatch shook his head as he regarded Donna Saint James in disbelief. 

“Did you just tell me you and Carly hired Emmy and that obnoxious best friend of hers to work as interns at Carldonn?” 

“Well…” 

“Oh, Christ.”

“If you’d give me a chance to explain, Ben, I...” 

“Please, for the love of God, tell me you two didn’t do that.” 

“Before you say anything else, please let me explain the reasoning behind it.” 

“Shit. You really did. I fucking can’t believe I’m hearing this.” 

Karon pulled down her sun visor and pretended to examine her hair whilst watching the expression on her client’s face. 

_I wish he’d shut up and let her explain. I want to hear this. He’s mentioned the niece’s best friend before. She sounds like a right little cow to me.  
_

_I see you, Karon. You’re not fixing your hair, though you should be. You’re taking this all in. She must be thinking we get along soooo well,_ thought Donna. 

“I can understand hiring Emmy, as she’s not only bright; but she’s sweet and kind as well. Heather? She’s got an obnoxious, cheeky streak and absolutely no mouth filter whatsoever!” 

“Says the man with the permanently out-of-order mouth filter,” chortled Karon from the front seat. 

“Don’t you have to ring one of your other clients about a gig or something?” snapped Benedict. 

“Not really,” replied a thoroughly amused Karon. “All my work has been sorted for the day so I can concentrate on providing you with the best possible representation.” 

“What about Eddie then? Don’t you want to chat him up?” 

“We spoke earlier.” 

“Could you please keep your comments to yourself then? I don’t recall offering up snarky comments on my private life being included in your fee.” 

“You needed to read the fine print,” smirked Karon. 

“Ah, you’re in rare form tonight, Karon. Perhaps I’d be better served with another publicist.” 

“I sincerely doubt it. You’re a publicist’s nightmare. However, you are welcome to try another firm out should you choose.” 

“I just might then.” 

“As you wish then. The door will still be open to you when you realize that I know how to handle you best.” 

“Actually, Donna knows how to handle me best,” said Benedict with a smug smile.

 _Owwww! She fucking pinched my bum!_

“That’s enough bickering, Benedict. Be nice to her. She gets you out of trouble when you stick your foot in your mouth,” scolded Donna in a barely audible voice. “From what I’ve seen, you bring a lot of your own PR problems upon yourself.”

Donna noticed Benedict's response was to simply stare out the window as if she hadn't spoken.

_And now he's going to pout for a bit.  Sometimes it's better that way._

Karon ignored them and spoke to the driver about their ETA. Then she pretended to watch the passing scenery with an amused expression on her face as Benedict finally turned back to Donna in order to resume their conversation. 

“You’re crackers for hiring Heather.” 

“You still haven’t allowed me to explain, Ben.” 

“Okay. Explain away. I’m all ears.”

 

 

Several minutes later, Benedict sat back in his seat and sighed deeply as Donna finished describing what transpired during the interviews. 

“I do understand why you and Carly chose them; and I’ll go even farther to state that it makes perfect sense on paper. I’m sure they both have impeccable credentials and their grades are nothing short of outstanding. They both have a lot to offer a potential employer and fit all your requirements.” 

Donna smiled and nodded. “Yes! That’s it exactly! I knew you’d understand once I laid it out for you.” 

“However, in reality, I still think that having the likes of them on staff is a tremendous mistake, Donna. Heather is going to make you miserable with her constant cheek; and Emmy will run back and tell Mum and Dad everything that happens between us that she becomes privy to.” 

“Don’t worry, Ben; I’ll be careful. As Carly pointed out, she’s the one who will have the most contact with them.” 

“I certainly hope so,” said Benedict.   He leaned forward and tapped Karon, who as on her mobile, on the shoulder. “How much longer, Karon?” 

“Why? Do you have a sudden need to use the loo?  I think I see a Cafe Nero up ahead.” 

“No. I’m just feeling a bit fidgety is all.” 

Karon finished her call and dropped her mobile back in her handbag. “It looks like we’re just about to make the turn onto Curzon Street.” 

The driver turned onto a street that had been closed to all traffic except for those attending the premiere and their cars. A security guard stopped their car and spoke with the driver before being allowed to proceed slowly. Donna could see the theatre just ahead and quite a large number of people gathered about. There were bright lights everywhere and the flashes of cameras could be seen. 

“We’re fourth in line to disembark,” said the driver to Karon. “It won’t be long now.” 

“He makes it sound like we’re getting off a cruise ship,” Donna whispered to Benedict. “Are you nervous?” 

“Just a little…I always get butterflies in my stomach right before these things start. I’ll be fine once I get out of the car. Then I’ll be too busy to be nervous. How about you? How are you feeling?” 

“I’m starting to feel more nervous than excited. There are so many people here, and everything is so bright!” 

“Donna, please gather your belongings and be ready to follow Benedict out of the car as soon as we come to a complete stop,” said Karon, turning in her seat to look at both of them. “Ben, give me that water bottle and put your jacket on now. Just be mindful of the kerb and cables that are scattered about when you get out onto the pavement. I don’t fancy a side trip to hospital tonight.” 

“Is she always this brusque?” Donna asked Benedict in a low voice. 

“You haven't heard anything yet. Wait until you see her in action, bossing me about the red carpet,” he snickered as he arranged his grey and black striped scarf around his neck. 

“I heard that,” said Karon. 

“And she has excellent hearing as you can see by her several cheeky demonstrations this evening,” quipped Benedict. 

“I’m sure Benedict was just kidding,” said Donna. 

“No, I’m not!” insisted Benedict with a sarcastic laugh. 

“No, he isn’t. The man tells the truth,” said Karon. “I’m a fierce bitch at these events.” 

“Gosh, you two sure take the art of verbal sparring to a whole new level,” commented Donna. 

“And we wouldn’t have it any other way, would we, Ben?” chuckled Karon. 

“Absolutely not!” agreed Benedict, smiling and winking at his publicist. 

  

**********************************************************

  

“How do you think Donna is holding up?” asked Wanda, as she sipped her white wine. “When we spoke earlier in the week, she told me she was anticipating a very fun evening. I hope she’s still as enthusiastic.” 

“I’d say she was extremely excited and looking forward to it based on her behavior this week,” commented Steven. 

“My sister’s been very concerned about making a good impression on Ben’s behalf. She wants him to be proud of her,” said Carly. 

“That’s nice to hear,” said Timothy. “I’m glad Donna has taken an interest in Ben’s career, as he has in hers.” 

“Donna came down to our apartment for an impromptu fashion show every night,” laughed Steven. “I think we’ve seen her model just about everything in her closet.” 

“And we wound up going out and buying new dresses just the same,” giggled Carly. “Donna found this beautiful, off-the-shoulder dress on sale at Harvey Nichols.” 

“Which she doesn’t seem to be wearing,” said Steven, pointing to an overhead screen, showing the red carpet arrivals. “I think she’s wearing Tuesday night’s dress.” 

“So she is. Donna looks intimidated,” observed Carly. “That’s her nervous smile.” 

“That’s because red carpets _are_ intimidating,” said Wanda. “All those lights, the photographers, the journalists. Not to mention the fans lined up, all jockeying for a photo and an autograph. I think the autograph hunters are the worst. They can be nasty and insulting if they don’t get what they want from a celebrity.” 

“All reasons why we decided to skip it,” chimed in Timothy. “Besides, no one fancies photographs of us or our autographs. We’re just here to lend support to our son. It’s his night after all.” 

"We decided to walk the red carpet," said Carly.  "It was so much fun!  I felt like a rock star out there!"

"We even took some selfies," added Steven taking out his cellphone.  "Look!  Here we are posing like we belonged on it!"

"You both look like you belonged on the red carpet to me," smiled Timothy.  "You're both naturals."

"Natural hams!" giggled Carly.

"That may be," laughed Wanda.  "But you both look absolutely lovely."

Suddenly, Wanda's eyes widened as she glanced up at the video screen.  “Hells bells! Benedict's not wearing a suit!” she exclaimed, grabbing Timothy’s forearm. “What was he thinking?” 

_He wasn’t. That much is obvious_ , thought Timothy. _He must be catching hell from Karon over his jeans and leather biker jacket._

“I do believe I spy his pink socks, bless him,” sighed Timothy. 

“I get such a kick out of Ben’s colorful socks,” declared Carly. “Especially, when he wears the ones with the owls.” 

“That was a joke that backfired,” clarified Wanda. “Every year I put a pair in his Christmas stocking, and he just loves it. I only meant for him to wear them around the house – not out in public like he does!” 

“The owl socks are fine as far as I’m concerned,” said Timothy. “They make a statement, albeit a humourous one.” 

“This coming from the man who wears musical Christmas bow ties and holiday socks,” giggled Wanda. 

“At least Ben’s not wearing those old, battered motorbike boots like he did the last time he went to a premiere,” added Timothy. “There’s barely any leather left on them, and they’re sorely in need of a good polishing.” 

“I like that Ben marches to his own drummer,” declared Steven, watching the screen. “Looks like they’re making their way to the first group of photographers to catch the red carpet arrivals.” 

“Look! Donna’s going to pose with Ben now!” exclaimed Carly. “I sure hope she’s as excited as I was!” 

 

*******************************************************

  

The Mercedes slowly rolled to a stop at the entrance to the red carpet. A security guard with a microphone in his ear immediately came to open the doors. Donna saw numerous metal barricades had been set up with posters advertising the movie attached to them across the street and lining part of the way to what was probably the red carpet route that led to the Curzon’s entrance. Behind the barricades stood a wide variety of fans, eagerly waiting for a chance to obtain an autograph from or photo with one of the stars of the film or ones who had come as VIP guests.   

_Wow! There’s a lot more people here than I thought, and this is just a smallish premiere. _I wonder if Carly and Steve took the red carpet route or went in another way?  I bet they walked it for the fun of it._  
_

“Okay! Quick as you can now!” instructed Karon brusquely. “There are other cars behind us. Ben, please ditch that bloody gum for the love of God! I don’t want to see photos of you in the Daily Mail chomping on it like a cow chewing its cud.” 

“Yes, Ma’am,” said Benedict with a mock salute. He looked at Donna and grinned. “I hope you finished your chocolate mint or she’ll make you spit it out as well.” 

Donna giggled. “I just swallowed the last of it. How’s my breath?” 

“Refreshingly minty and chocolatey as always, and mine?” 

“Fruity and…” 

“Tobacco-y?” 

“I don’t know how to describe it, but it’s far better than when you’ve been smoking; and my eyes barely water from it.” 

Suddenly, Donna heard her text chime go off.  She took her phone out of her bag and checked to see who had sent her a text.

"It's Carly," she said to Benedict.  "Oh my gosh!  Look!  She sent photos of her and Steven walking the red carpet!  They look like they're having a blast!"

Benedict leaned over so he could view the screen.  "They both look excited as fuck to be here," he agreed. "I'm glad they're enjoying themselves."

The door to the back seat abruptly swung open, and Donna could hear all the loud hustle and bustle going on outside. The cold air rushed into the warm back seat of the car, causing her to shiver and pull her coat around her. Karon got out and slung her large black leather bag over her shoulder and spoke to another security guard, as two female handlers came up to her and began to speak and point as Karon nodded. 

Benedict spit his nicotine gum in a tissue, which he discarded in a plastic bag in the magazine holder attached to the front seat. He ran his hand through his hair, turned to Donna and patted her knee encouragingly. 

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather bypass all this hoopla and go straight inside?” 

“Nope. I want to watch you at work.” 

“So you’re absolutely sure you want to do this.” 

_I can do this!  If Carly and Steven can do it, then I certainly can! I will make Ben proud! I will make Karon proud, too!_

“Yes!” 

“Are you ready then?” 

“As ready as I’ll ever be!” 

“Ben!” called Karon sharply from outside. “I need you now! This is not the time to be chatting Donna up!” 

“Go ahead! I’ll be right behind you!” replied Donna scooting across the seat. 

Donna watched as Benedict emerged from the car to a smattering of applause. The crowd buzz had gotten a little louder at the sight of him. She could hear her father’s amused voice in her head: 

_“Some fans get so excited at these things that they’ll clap for anyone who gets out of a limo – even Cumberbatch.”  
_

Donna could see that the star of the film,Paul Bettany, was busy working the crowd. He was smiling and signing autographs. Another actor, who Donna didn’t recognized was also signing and even posed for a few photos until his publicist shepherded him away. Some attendees just quickly walked by past the fans, photographers and press line towards the theatre entrance. 

“Donna? Are you alright, Love?” Benedict asked with concern as he turned back to check on her. 

“She’s fine,” said Karon dismissively. “Please let’s get ready to engage with the first set of photographers.” 

_The first set of photographers. How many are there anyway?_ Thought Donna. 

"They always take photos of the arrivals first," explained Benedict. "Then we'll walk the red carpet."

One of the handlers moved on to the car behind them and the other stayed put. She was speaking excitedly with Karon and pointed to where the carpet began.  They both looked over to where Donna and Benedict were standing, and the woman nodded before whispering in Karon’s ear. Donna then caught sight of some photographers who were staked out there at the ready. They were busy snapping photos of Sir Derek Jacobi who had arrived in the car just ahead of them. 

_Holy cow! That’s Derek Jacobi! I wonder if Benedict knows him. I’d love to meet him. I loved him in “I Claudius”.  
_

“We’re next,” Benedict whispered into her ear. “Get ready to smile!” _  
_

_Ooooo…its picture time…so soon! I’ll just pretend I’m at the prom. Let me make my orthodontist proud._

“Ben, I need you and Donna to stand over here,” said Karon, leading the way. “They’ll take one of you together, then the rest of you alone.” 

Benedict smiled excitedly at Donna and took her by the hand. “Come. This will only take a minute. It’ll be fun. Just think - our first official red carpet photo!” 

Donna gave him an uneasy smile and latched onto his hand tightly as she quickly walked beside him towards the spot Karon had indicated. There were several men with cameras busy snapping photos from behind the barricade, who weren’t with the usual journalists and photographers that stood behind a red velvet rope in front of them. 

_I wonder who they are. I guess there wasn’t enough room for all of them.  
_

“Are we supposed to smile at them, too?” asked Donna. _  
_

“Nope. Those are the paparazzi. Just ignore them,” instructed Benedict. “They just want to sell the photos to the tabloids or on eBay.” 

Donna suddenly felt very uncomfortable as she realized all eyes were now on her and Benedict as Derek Jacobi had already finished posing and had moved on with his publicist and handler. Her self-confidence suddenly began to evaporate as Benedict walked towards the area they needed to stand in. 

_Oh, my gosh! All these people are watching us and looking us over. I can’t believe how calm and collected Benedict seems. Behold the power of nicotine gum, I suppose._

“Your hand is shaking,” Benedict whispered to her. “Are you okay?” 

“Give me your bag, Donna!” commanded Karon, holding out her hand. “You can keep the coat on.” 

_Why thank you, Karon. How very considerate as you stand there all comfy in your black wool coat. What makes you think I had any intention of taking it off in this chill?_

The handler looked as if she wanted to smack Donna. “Miss, please! You can’t hold that bag! Please give it to one of us to hold.” 

One of the photographers from behind suddenly called out to Donna. 

“Just drop the bloody bag so I can get my photo! I’ve got a deadline to meet!” 

“Ignore him,” whispered Benedict. “Only pay attention to the ones directly in front of us.” 

A photographer from behind the rope addressed Benedict. 

“Benedict, sir. Can you and your lady please stand and look to the right?” 

_Oh, my gosh! He called me Benedict’s lady. I think I’m going to throw up._

“How about a big smile, Benedict?” 

“Look over here please, Miss!” 

“Big smiles both of you, please!” 

“I need to take your photo, Benedict!” 

“Donna! Give me your bag, _please._ Now!” Barked Karon, stepping closer to her. “You’re holding up the photo line.” 

“It’s paramount that we keep moving,” added Benedict, taking her free hand and rubbing the back of it with his thumb. “Just relax and follow me.” 

“Sure. Here,” said Donna, tossing the small clutch bag to Karon, who caught it and winced. 

“Bloody hell! This thing weighs a ton!” remarked Karon, in surprise as her wrist bent back under the weight of the bag. “Didn’t I ask you not to bring a lot of junk! What in the hell do you have in here? ” 

“As much stuff as I could cram in it!” retorted Donna smugly, as Benedict adjusted their position and Karon stepped back out of the range of the photographers. “She was under the mistaken impression that I was only bringing a lipstick and hanky,” she whispered to Benedict. 

“She sure as shit looked surprised,” laughed Benedict. “And in pain.” 

“I told her to bring something small, so we wouldn’t have this problem; and yet I can barely hold it,” grumbled Karon to the handler, whose name was Mindy. “What in the fuck could be so important that she has to carry this much junk around with her?” 

_Oh, Karon, do you think I didn’t hear that? Don’t talk about me to the handler like I’m not here!_

“There are certain items that I must have with me at all times,” Donna said loudly to Karon. “Lipstick, a comb, breath mints, condoms.” 

Karon opened her mouth but thought better of it and shook her head in disgust as Mindy stifled a laugh. 

Benedict blinked and guffawed. “Condoms! Bloody fucking hell!” 

Donna giggled as Benedict led her to their spot. “She deserved that!” 

“You are such an unexpectedly naughty girl!” he said through his teeth. 

“I don’t really have any. We have no need for them.” 

“Damn. I thought for a minute that you brought them along so we wouldn’t have a mess just in case we found a private spot to enjoy a quick shag. I think I’m actually bitterly disappointed.” 

“I just said that for shock value.” Murmured Donna. 

“And shock her, you did. I’ve never seen Karon look so rattled.” 

The woman in charge of the photos directed them into position. Her name was Tanya, according to her badge. Benedict stood tall, held his head a certain way and turned on what Donna came to recognize as his professional smile. 

_I love how Benedict knows exactly what to do. He looks so at ease, bored almost. Then it’s like he flips a switch and there’s that dazzling smile. Karon must have told him which is his best side for the camera._

“Stand next to him, Miss, please.” 

Donna looked from Tanya to Benedict. “Which side of you am I supposed to stand on?” 

“It doesn’t matter which side,” replied Benedict, pulling her beside him. Donna felt him wrap his arm loosely around her waist.   He looked down at her and smiled sweetly at her. Donna returned the smile and felt a bit of confidence. 

 _I can do this.  It's just a couple of photos._

“Good. Thank you, Mr. Cumberbatch,” said Tanya, who nodded to the photographers. 

Donna felt like a deer in the headlights as the camera flashes began to go off in her face. 

_Oh my gosh! This is happening so fast! I didn’t get a chance to pose right yet!   I forgot what Karon told me to do! What do I do with my hands again? I think I’m supposed to hold Ben’s arm._

“Stand closer to Mr. Cumberbatch, please!” yelled one of the photographers. 

Karon made a frustrated motion for Donna to step to the right. “To the right, Donna! Just like we practiced in my office!”

Donna inched closer to Benedict. She felt as if she were on display. The photographers began to clamour for Benedict’s attention. 

_Shit! This was a lot easier in Karon’s office! And I had the added bonus of Tess licking my hand in approval._

“Can you two get any closer?” 

Tanya and Karon made motions with their hands for Donna to move to her right more. 

_Jeez Louise! I am standing close to him! Wait! I forgot to position my arm! That’s it! I’m supposed to put my arm around Benedict!  
_

Benedict kept smiling, but was worried inside. He could see the look of confusion and fear on Donna’s face. _  
_

_She’s trembling like a bloody leaf. Karon didn’t do such an exemplary job of coaching her. I hope she doesn’t fall apart. I need to take charge of this!_

“Stand closer to me, Darling,” Benedict instructed in a low, soothing voice. “Relax – it’s only a couple of photos. Nothing to be afraid of.” 

He tightened his grip around Donna’s waist and pulled her against him as the cameras continued to flash. She felt him lean his head against hers. Having his body and head so close suddenly began to comfort her. 

_I can’t let Benedict down now! I need to do my part and show them just how happy I am to be here, supporting my honey. It’s just some photographs, like he said. I’ll show Karon that I can do this. I saw her smack her forehead. She thinks I didn’t catch it, but I did._

Donna quickly wrapped her arm about Benedict’s waist tightly and gave her most dazzling smile to the cameras, as the photographers barked out orders to them. 

“Can you look at Mr. Cumberbatch, Miss?” 

_Oh, that I can do! I love looking at him!_

Donna looked up into Benedict’s eyes, oblivious to the cameras. She found herself feeling a bit giddy as she gazed into his eyes. The medium heels brought her closer to his height, though he was still a good five inches taller. His eyes looked blue-green in the bright lights with flecks of gold. Donna could see the love in them that he had for her and felt her heart swell. She gave him a warm smile, which he returned. He placed a kiss to her temple, causing her to smile even wider. Before she knew it, the photographers had intruded into their serene little bubble. 

“Perfect! Thank you, Miss!” 

“Look to the right please, Sir!” 

“Miss, I need you to look over at me!” 

“Benedict! Look to center! Yes, that’s it.” 

“How do you know where to look?” asked Donna in a panic through gritted teeth. “They’re all yelling at me.” 

“Do as I do…ready…now…look to the right…look to the center…..now look to the left…done!”   He smiled down reassuringly at her. “Painless, right?” 

_Not really. I can’t fucking see. I can only see are flashing dots before my eyes. That also seemed like more than one photo! It seems like they took dozens and dozens of them._

“You can step away from him now, Miss. We’re done with you,” Tanya said to Donna. “You need to stand over by Karon.” 

_I bet she’s done with me. I can hear the relief in her voice. I’m a Red Carpet 101 failure as far as she’s concerned._

“Now, they’re just going to take a few of me alone,” Benedict explained gently tapping the small of her back to indicate it was time to move. He kissed the top of her head. “Karon will take care of you until I’m done.” 

“But I can’t…” began Donna, blinking in an attempt to clear her sight. 

“Donna, come over here,” called out Karon impatiently. “Now, please!” 

_I would if I could see where I’m going. Gosh, are they always so abrupt at these things?_

“Quick as you can now, please, Miss!” Tanya shooed Donna away and addressed Benedict. “Mr. Cumberbatch, just a few of you alone, please.” 

Karon quickly walked over, took Donna by the arm and guided her over to the sidelines as the photographers all clamored for Benedict’s attention. 

“They want to photograph Ben only now. You’ve had your turn.” 

“I wasn’t trying to hog the camera, Karon! I just couldn’t see where I was going,” protested Donna. 

Karon wasn’t paying attention to her. Her eyes were on Benedict and the photographers. 

“He makes it look so easy,” observed Donna. 

“That’s because it is easy,” retorted Karon. “It’s not rocket science.” 

“How did I do?” Donna asked hesitantly. 

Karon handed Donna back her clutch bag and rubbed her sore wrist. “You were a little slow on the uptake, but all in all I’d say you did fine for your first time. You’ll get better as you attend more of these. There’s definitely a routine that you will find is common to all red carpets.” 

“I can’t see very clearly,” Donna said worriedly as she blinked furiously. “I have little white dots in my line of vision. Do you think there’s anything wrong?” 

“It’s the aftermath of the camera flashes. Give your eyes a few minutes to adjust. You’ll be fine, I promise,” she said, patting her arm. “Don’t overthink things. Just go where you’re told and smile. That’s all there is to it. Okay. He’s done. It’s time for us to move on.” 

Benedict quickly joined them and Karon handed him his water bottle. He took a few sips and wiped his lips on the back of his hand. 

“You were brilliant, Darling!” He gushed, leaning over to kiss Donna on the cheek. “I could not have been prouder. That couldn’t have been easy for you with all the lights and voices shouting directions from all sides.” 

“It was a bit intimidating at first, but I started to get used to it.” 

_Am I? My hands are still shaking a little._

A few of the autograph hunters and fans yelled out from the sidelines to Benedict in an attempt to gain his attention. Benedict looked from the barricades to Karon and raised his eyebrows at her questioningly. 

“Do I have time to sign a few autographs?” 

Donna could hear Neil’s amused voice in her head once again: 

_“Some of these movie fans will ask for an autograph from anyone who walks the red carpet whether they’re famous or not.”_

Karon consulted her watch. “Five minutes, then you must walk the carpet to the press line and take photos with the other cast members in front of the back board.” 

“What’s a back board?” asked Donna. 

Benedict and Karon both looked at her as if she had two heads. 

“They sometimes call it a step and repeat board,” clarified Karon. “It’s a publicity backdrop used for event photography such as this. It’s the tall cardboard wall or a section of a wall that’s printed with a repeating pattern such as brand logos or emblems. It's purely for advertising purposes for the sponsors.Tonight’s should have _Creation_ on it as well as BBC.” 

“When they take the photos of me later on, the logos will be visible behind me,” added Benedict. 

“Oh, I didn’t know what they were called. Thanks for telling me,” said Donna. 

“You can come with me or stay here,” Benedict said to Donna. 

“I think I’ll stay here and wait.” 

“Would you mind holding this for me then?” He handed her his water bottle. 

“No. Not at all.” 

Donna watched as Benedict walked briskly to the nearest barricade and began signing autographs. Karon was right behind him, listening and watching him like a hawk. Donna was excited to watch him turn on the charm as he worked the crowd, chatting and playfully joking as he signed or posed for photos. His enthusiasm and energy knew no bounds as he made his way along the barricade. Donna couldn’t see everything he was being handed; but did notice some photographs from Benedict’s previous works. A couple of fans asked him to autograph the _Creation_ poster that was attached to the barricade they stood in front of. 

“They often lay claim to the posters and ask the cast to sign them. Honestly, it makes a cracking souvenir,” explained Mindy, who was standing alongside Donna watching the crowd. “Is this your first time on a red carpet?” 

Donna nodded. “Does it show?” 

Mindy laughed and nodded. “Yeah, it does; but you’ll be a pro in no time. Here’s some advice from one who’s been doing this for almost ten years:   Don’t get in the way, smile and keep moving.” 

Karon trotted over to take the water bottle from Donna. “He’s decided he’s thirsty.” 

“Karon, can I ask why Benedict is ignoring some of those fans? They keep trying to shove their photos in front of him; but he just keeps skipping over them.” 

“Ah, those are the autograph hounds,” responded Karon with obvious contempt. “Why _should_ Ben sign for them? Their purpose is to make money off of him. Those autographs are not for them. They intend to sell them on eBay. I encourage him not to make a habit of it, but sometimes one must.” 

Donna could hear her father’s voice in her ears: 

_“Is she crazy? Who on earth would want and even pay for Cumberbatches autograph?”_

“I guess you make a good point,” said Donna. “Benedict really seems to be enjoying himself.” 

Karon nodded. “That he is. Actors thrive on attention – whether it be from fans or the critics. They live for the adulation. It gives them a high unlike any other.” 

“It must be fun to meet your fans, even if it is work.” 

Neil’s voice once again intruded: 

_“What fans, Muffin?”  
_

“It is work, and at times it is very demanding and utterly exhausting work; but in the end most actors find it very rewarding. Red carpets and premieres are prime opportunities for a chance to be seen, interact with fans and garner positive publicity…speaking of which…” 

Suddenly, Karon’s head whipped around in Benedict’s direction. 

“Damn!” 

“What’s wrong?” asked Donna, craning her neck in order to see what had transpired. 

“Excuse me for a moment. Someone just asked him about the Prime Minister’s clothes. I need to do preventative damage control before he answers.” 

With that Karon was beside Benedict in an instant and touched his shoulder, as she whispered into his ear. Benedict smiled apologetically, said he was running late and was sorry that he couldn’t sign anymore. Karon was still whispering to him urgently as they joined Donna. Benedict nodded absently as if brushing off whatever she had said to him. 

“We’re at a crossroads, Donna,” began Karon. “Do you fancy walking the rest of the red carpet with Ben? He’ll be taking more photos at the end and giving some brief – and notice, Ben, that I stress the word ‘brief’- interviews before going in. You can bypass the whole thing and join your sister and Ben’s parents or…” 

_Tag along and get in the way again. She wants me to go in. I can tell.  
_

_Karon’s trying to ditch Donna. I hope she chooses to stay with me. I like having her beside me, and the experience will be good for her._

“…you are welcome to stay with us.” 

_Yeah. Right. I bet I am. I can tell by the expression on Benedict’s face that he’s hoping I come along with him.  
_

_Please come with me, Donna. I don’t want to force you, but it would mean so much to me,_ Benedict silently willed her. 

_This is my man’s job, and it is my job as his life partner to step up to the plate and do my part to make him look good. Whether Karon likes it or not.  
_

Donna stepped close to Benedict and took his hand in hers. 

“This is Benedict’s job; and as I said before, I want to watch him at work. I need to watch the whole red carpet process from start to finish. I promise not to get in the way. I’ll stand on the side. You won’t even know I’m there.” 

Benedict’s face split into a huge grin. _I’m so fucking chuffed!_

“So you’re walking then,” said Karon, sounding disappointed. “I just want to make sure you understand that you can – for _any_ reason – leave and go inside.” 

“Understood; and just so you understand, I have every intention of sticking it out and walking with Benedict… 

_Whether you like it or not.  
_

Donna smiled up at Benedict. “…Provided you want me to, Ben Honey.” 

Benedict Cumberbatch continued to grin at her, as he took her by the hand. His head was in the clouds. “I would like nothing more, Sweetheart. I’m so over the moon that you want to do this with me. I even promise not to talk too much to the reporters. Shall we take a walk then?”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I haven’t a clue as to how a red carpet or premiere actually works. This is all how I envision it along with a little internet research.
> 
> 2\. I definitely see Benedict and Karon having a relationship much like the one I’m depicting. I think she’s a tough cookie when it comes to handling him; but in the end I think they get along very well. 
> 
> 3\. Yes, Donna waffles horribly during her red carpet debut. She goes from being self-confident to petrified and back to self-confident again. It's not at all what she expected. She's excited and anxious at the same time and has trouble understanding why. I also wanted her to stand up to Karon. 
> 
> 4\. This will be the last chapter posted for 2015 due to the holidays. Chapter 113 will be posted on Sunday, January 11th.
> 
> 5\. I will finally be hitting all the milestones I've been anxious to get to for this story in the coming year, including the "big reveal". 
> 
> 6\. Here's wishing all my lovely readers a Happy and Peace-Filled Holiday and wonderful 2016!


	113. Chapter 113

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of The Creation Premiere and after party. Benedict, Donna and Karon all experience conflicting emotions. 
> 
> Note: I’ll be using *********************** to indicate things happening at the same time.

 

Donna Saint James had found she thoroughly enjoyed watching Benedict Cumberbatch work on the red carpet. True to her word, she had tamped down the self-consciousness that had arisen and mustered all her courage. Donna had proudly taken Benedict’s hand, smiled brightly and confidently walked the length of the carpet alongside him. Her reward was seeing the warm and loving looks he gave her as they made their way towards the Press Line. 

_He looks so happy – like he’s going to burst. I did the right thing. I just wish this nervousness would stop trying to bubble up from inside.  
_

_I’m so over-the-moon that she’s doing this with me._

“You can slow down a bit, Darling. We’re not in a race you know,” teased Benedict as they walked along. “There will be no prize awarded at the end for the first actor to enter the lobby.” 

_Yes, there is, Benedict. There are no cameras and flashing lights and less people in the lobby. Carly, Steve and your parents are there. Then we can all go into the darkened theatre and watch the movie in what passes for solitude. That is my prize!  
_

_Donna’s still not entirely comfortable with this. Her hand’s trembling a bit, and I can feel the sweat on her palm. However, she’s doing a super job of hiding it. She’s a true credit to her acting teacher._

“Sorry. I was just trying to keep up with your long strides. Your legs are much longer than mine, so you cover more ground.” 

“Erm…I think you’ve got that backwards,” Benedict said with a good-natured laugh. “ _I’m_ the one trying to keep up with _you_. Do you realize that you’re actually pulling me along?” 

_He’s right about that. I’m practically leading him. Karon’s not looking too happy about that. I’ll slow my pace and let him lead me._

“This looks so easy on TV, when in reality it’s like a choreographed ballet.” 

“You’ll find that timing is everything at these things. It’s Karon’s job to ensure I make all the proper stops and garner all the positive publicity I can prior to going in for the screening on time, which is a minor miracle unto itself,” he laughed. 

_No wonder Karon’s such a general. She has to be. I don’t envy her._

“It’s exhausting and nerve-wracking.” 

“Aye, that it is; but it’s also immensely good fun! Just relax.” 

“You’ll have to be patient with me, Ben Honey. I’m still trying to get the hang of this.” 

“And you’re doing brilliantly so far, Love,” smiled Benedict, squeezing her hand encouragingly. 

“I appreciate your encouragement.” 

“I think Karon will also concur with me.” 

_Oh you dear, deluded man. Stop bullshitting me. I see her eyes glued to me, waiting for me to fuck up._

“Karon probably wishes I had stayed home,” Donna snorted. 

_My love is very intuitive. She senses Karon secretly despises that I’m in another relationship. I just wish I could convince Karon that this time things are different. This one is for keeps._

“I’m sure she did at the start, Darling; but she seems to have sorted out her feelings about you from what I can see.” 

“Then why is Karon frowning like that?” 

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck as he turned to study his publicist’s expression. 

“Oh, I don’t know if I’d call that a full-on frown…she usually looks like that.” _  
_

_Ah, so I guess he means that she has a resting bitch face. Karon’s probably waiting for me to make a faux pas, so she can reprimand me like she does Benedict. That won’t happen on my watch. I will do this. Not only will I continue to make Benedict proud of me; but I’ll show Ms. Maskill that I’m perfectly capable of surviving this premiere with my grace and dignity intact. I’m also really glad I didn’t wear stiletto heels.  
_

“You’ll find Karon’s actually quite fun to be around. We really do get along and always find time to share a giggle or two at these things,” continued Benedict. 

_That remains to be seen, but I’ll try and keep an open mind. I think Karon’s wary of me because of the way his on again/off again relationship with Olivia ended. She’s probably convinced that he’s still taking me out for a test drive.  
_

_I wish Karon weren’t always the skeptic when it comes to new relationships. I admit I’ve had a few that fizzled quickly; but Donna’s the one I intend to spend the rest of my life with. Karon will come around once she sees that this relationship is destined to last forever. Perhaps telling her about my plans to propose will help calm her fears._

Unfortunately, Donna suddenly became aware that she needed to use the facilities urgently.  The nagging sensation had slowly developed, but now she recognized the signals that she absolutely needed to relieve herself.

_Jeez Louise! Why do I have to pee so bad all of a sudden? I made sure not to drink a lot of water just in case I had to hold it for a long time. The pressure is killing me. I’ve got to find a ladies room. Leaking pee on the red carpet is not the way to make a good impression on your boyfriend, his publicist or the fans who came to be here. Not to mention the photographers and the press line, which is up ahead. Ugh!_

Benedict noticed that Donna had begun to look about her with an anxious expression on her face. 

“What’s wrong? Are you alright, Donna?” 

“I need to use the bathroom. All of a sudden I got this urge to pee in the worst way.” 

“It’s just nerves. Happens to me all the time,” he laughed. “It’ll stop once you get used to this.” 

Benedict waved over one of the handlers. “She needs to use the loo. Can you help us out?” 

The female handler smiled understandingly at Donna. “Of course. Please come with me. I’ll take you in the back way. We’ll be right back,” she said to Benedict. “But if it turns out you have to move along, we’ll be sure to catch up with you.” 

“Thanks,” acknowledged Benedict as Karon returned to his side. She watched Donna and the handler walking away towards the theatre. 

“Where’s Donna going? Did she decide to go straight in then?” asked Karon hopefully. 

_Then I can concentrate solely on Benedict and what he’s saying._

“Don’t get your hopes up, Karon. Donna’s only using the loo. She’ll be right back.” 

“It’s nerves.” 

“I already told her.” 

“I hope she doesn’t take long or we’ll have to move along without her.” 

“We’ll wait for as long as it takes, Karon,” retorted Benedict sternly. 

“There’s waiting and there’s waiting…” 

“And we’ll wait because _I’m_ the client who pays _your_ fee; and _I_ wish to wait for my date to join me,” said Benedict firmly. 

“As you wish, Benedict,” said a sullen Karon. “But you need to do at least two interviews in the press line.” 

“Oh fuck me! Now what?” exclaimed Benedict under his breath. “Be right back. Tell Donna I didn’t desert her.” 

“Where are you going? To the bogs to check on her?” 

“No. Mum’s over there waving at me. Let me go see what she wants. Be back in a tic.” 

Karon watched as Benedict trotted over to where Wanda Ventham was standing, resplendant in royal blue and black. Wanda smiled and blew a kiss at Karon, which Karon returned. Then Wanda made a motion that they would only be a minute. Karon smiled to see the cameras immediately begin to flash as soon as they noticed Benedict approaching his mother and giving her a kiss on the cheek. 

_What an unexpectedly brilliant move!!! I couldn’t have planned that better myself! What a prime location you chose, Wanda – right near the paps. Well done!  I adore that Wanda can still pull them in at her age! Take your time, Ben, the more photos, the better the publicity. I should go over to make sure they realize it’s a mother-son conversation. That would be nice to read about in one of the tabloids. Wanda Ventham shares a proud moment with her son, Actor, Benedict Cumberbatch – star of Creation during red carpet premiere at the Curzon Cinema. I’ll inflate him from supporting role to ‘star’. Yes, that’ll work quite nicely indeed!  
_

 

*****************************************************

  

“Here I am!” announced Donna as she returned to find Benedict standing with his hands in his pockets while Karon was taking a call on her mobile. 

“That wasn’t long at all,” smiled Benedict. He offered his bottle of water to Donna. “Care for a swig?” 

“No! Then I’ll be back in the bathroom; and I don’t want to piss off Karon any more than she probably is. You shouldn’t have waited for me.” 

“I insisted,” said Benedict. “We’re in this together, right?” 

Donna smiled and squeezed his hand. “Right! For better or for worse. Just like marriage vows. These are my red carpet vows.” 

_Hmmm…you’ll be taking real marriage vows with me some time next year if I have anything to say about it,_ smiled Benedict to himself. 

Benedict felt Karon’s familiar tug on his left sleeve, indicating that she needed his complete and undivided attention. He turned his back to Donna as Karon leaned close to him in order to whisper into his ear. 

“It’s time for the interviews. You need to let me know if you want Donna by your side or not.” 

Benedict scratched his ear lobe thoughtfully. “Erm…well…I was thinking that it would be rather nice to keep her with me. I forgot how comforting it is having a red carpet companion to share a giggle with.” 

“As long as you’re prepared for the remote possibility that one of them may actually think to ask her a question or two.”

“I’m sure Donna can answer a question or two intelligently.” 

Karon fixed him with a look. 

“May I remind you that even though you have experience with this, you still have trouble fielding questions at times. Do you honestly think Donna’s prepared to handle that, Ben?” 

“Sounds like you’ve already made up my mind for me."

"No.  I'm just putting it out there for your consideration; but I really urge you to listen to me on this."

Benedict chuckled bitterly. "You really _are_ having trouble remembering which one of us is the client tonight.” 

“I assure you I'm not.  I'm being paid - by you as you've been so generously reminding me all night - to not make you look like an arse and present you in the most positive light possible.  Would I put Donna on the spot like that?  I don’t recommend it, but if you think she can handle it, then I’ll abide by your wishes, of course. It’s your call, Ben.” 

“Do you really think she’ll be questioned?” 

“No, but you always need to be on your guard. The more likely scenario is that one of them asks you who she is and if you’re in a relationship.” 

“So far, no one has inquired as to who she is yes?” 

“Not a one, I’m happy to say.” 

“Interesting,” murmured Benedict. “Why do suppose it is that no one has asked then?” 

“Because no one cares or realizes who Donna is. I suspect if they knew she wrote the Delicious Travels column…” 

“Tasty Travels,” corrected a clearly annoyed Benedict. 

“Sorry. I can never remember it. No snarky offense was intended either, so there's no need to get your knickers in a twist. Eddie’s the avid reader of her column. Anyway, if that little morsel were known, then it would be an entirely different kettle of fish. Donna would probably get more attention than you, which isn’t why we’re here.” 

“Donna prefers to be incognito when it comes to her work. She’s quite insistent about it. Whenever she goes out on a review, she never uses her real name when making the booking, nor will she allow the Tribune to post her photograph beside her column.” 

“She’s already been over all that with me, which is why we’re keeping a low profile for now. However, things could change in the future and a time may come when we’d want the public to know who she is.” 

_Especially should your career take off. Then I’d have the makings of a power couple. Donna being a well-known columnist would then become an asset to your career, but we’ll worry about that if and when the time comes._

_I can tell that Karon has mixed feelings as to accommodating Donna’s wishes. On one hand she wants to respect Donna’s wishes; but on the other she’s looking out to see how Donna’s career can enhance mine. Right now, I’m still a jobbing actor. Donna not only makes more money than I do; but her column makes her name very recognizable where mine is not as. Hopefully, that will change in the future. Sherlock will certainly give me more exposure, and if I get the part in After the Dance, that will help as well. My publicist is biding her time and waiting to see if things truly work out between us.  
_

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck. “I just thought that _someone_ other than her fellow employees at the Tribune would recognize her.” 

_If I didn’t know better, I’d say the dolt actually wants her to be recognized! He’s so dense at times. Not one person has asked me her name or what she does or what she is to Ben. However, if Donna’s name were uttered, then we’d have some recognition value. However, at this point in his career, I don’t want that to happen. Donna’s column is immensely popular, so the spotlight would automatically be focused on her rather than my client, which she doesn’t want in the first place and neither do I. I’m being paid to promote Ben, not his girlfriend._

“You and Olivia were a very public couple, plus she’s an actress, so she had a certain amount of recognition value, especially as Emma Messenger from _In the Thick of It_. Donna is simply here as your plus one as far as the general public is concerned. Unless you fancy broadcasting that you’ve found the love of your life during the interviews, who just happens to be Donna Saint James - the author of the Sunday Tribune’s Toasty – I mean Tasty Travels column.” 

_Now, you’re being a snarky cow, Karon. Donna would not be chuffed if I did anything of the sort._

“God, no! No, I can’t do that without Donna’s permission…as much as I’d love to shout it from the rooftops, I just can’t. It wouldn’t be the gentlemanly thing to do.” 

_She’d kill me if I were to spring that on her without warning. We already discussed it and settled on girlfriend if I were asked. No one’s asked, so there’s nothing to sort out._

Karon regarded him with a raised eyebrow. “Well then boss?” 

“As much as it pains me to say it, I don’t think Donna should speak to any reporters,” said Benedict reluctantly. 

“Not only an excellent decision, but the correct one as well,” smiled Karon patting his arm. “That works for me.” 

“I don’t want to hurt her feelings, Karon.” 

“Somehow I get the feeling she’ll be partially relieved.” _I know I am. Keeping track of one loose cannon is difficult enough. I don’t need two.  
_

********************************************************

 

Karon came up from behind Benedict and steered him towards the press line. Donna saw her whisper at length into his ear, and they both glanced at Donna briefly. Benedict frowned and leaned down to whisper something back to Karon, as she nodded to whatever it was he said. The brief conversation seemed to go on forever, though in reality it was over in less than two minutes with Karon patting his sleeve. Then Benedict looked directly at Donna and flashed her a brief, gratuitous smile. 

_Hmmm…that was a phony smile if I ever saw one. His smile never reached his eyes. How odd to see him give one of those to me! It’s as if he’s feeling guilty about whatever they were discussing. I wonder what they were talking about. I have a funny feeling it was me._

“It’s time to dazzle the journalists, Ben,” said Karon in her take-charge tone of voice. “Remember, when I tap your shoulder, it’s time to move onto the next one. Luckily, this line is relatively short and as I probably don’t have to tell you, your answers should be as well.” 

“I do try, Karon.” 

“Not hard enough. Remember, brevity is your friend when answering questions!” 

“Yes, Mum.” 

And with that Benedict put on his professional smile and waltzed over to the first journalist, immediately shifting gears into professional interview mode. 

“Hello! Nice to see you again as well, Jane. Yes…yes…it looks like a good-sized turn out. _Creation_ is an extraordinary film about an extraordinarily controversial subject and…” 

Karon briefly turned to Donna as she kept an ear out for any verbal faux pas from Benedict. 

“Your first red carpet has actually been a success so far, Donna. I suggest that you stand back and let us continue, so we can keep it that way. Ben and I are in agreement that you shouldn’t speak to the journalists.” 

_So, I was right. They were talking about how to handle me._

“Not a problem, Karon,” replied Donna, sighing inwardly with relief. “I like watching Benedict work from the sidelines.” 

_I didn’t want to talk to any journalists anyway. I wouldn’t know what to say to them, except if they sent one that I know from the Tribune. Speaking to journalists was not part of Karon’s Red Carpet Procedures 101. Now I know why. She never intended for me to speak in the first place.  
_

Donna made sure to stand off to the side as she watched Benedict move down the line with Karon at his side, forever observing and listening to his responses. She didn’t recognize the reporter from the London Tribune, who didn’t even look her way as Benedict gave him a brief interview. As soon as he finished, he joined her again. 

“You’re very quick at giving interviews,” said Donna. “Water?”

“Quick? No one has ever accused me of being quick,” laughed Benedict, taking the offered water bottle from Donna. He uncapped the bottle and took a healthy swig. 

_He’s right about that. There’s a reason no one ever refers to him as quick, bless him,_ thought Karon. 

“It depends on your definition of quick,” quipped Karon. “You have to remember that he’s only had time to answer one or two questions each where the other actors answer four or five.” 

“Do you want quality or quantity?” demanded Benedict, handing the bottle back to Donna. 

“I want both,” retorted Karon. “Not those long-winded waffling responses.” 

Benedict rolled his eyes at Donna. “Do you think I waffle when I give an answer to a question, Donna?” 

Donna could hear her father’s voice inside her head: _“Yes! I’ve never heard anything quite like it either, and hope not to again in this life time. Cumberbatch does loves to use the word extraordinary.”  
_

_You’re wrong, Daddy! Benedict gives wonderful answers to the reporters!_

“To be honest, I prefer a thorough answer to a question,” replied Donna. 

Benedict smiled smugly at Karon. “See. Some people appreciate my penchant for thoroughness.” 

“Donna’s just saying that because she’s in love with you,” scoffed Karon. _Bless her._

_Hmmm…Carly accused me of the same thing. I love it when Benedict expounds upon a topic. Of all the men I’ve dated, he’s by far the most interesting. We are never at a loss for conversation._

“No, Karon. I really _do_ mean it. I’m not saying that just to be nice,” insisted Donna. “Benedict’s answers are very intelligent and well thought out.” 

_We must be listening to two different people then,_ thought Karon, suppressing an eye roll. _His responses may be intelligent, but they are hardly what I’d call well thought out. Ben just merrily waffles along until he gets to the point or – in too many cases - the point of no return._

“Well, I’m glad that’s sorted then. Time for the cast photos,” announced Karon, guiding Benedict towards the step and repeat backdrop where the cast of the film had gathered for group photos. 

Donna had trailed along behind them, holding Benedict’s water bottle, which she gave to him whenever he felt thirsty.   She recognized Stanley, who was one of the photographers from the London Tribune. Donna sometimes took Stanley along on her reviews as he had an accurate palate and would take the photos of the dishes as well. He was right on the rope and gave her a big smile and wave.

"You're looking fine, Donna!" called out Stan, snapping a photo of her. 

"Hi Stan!" she replied, smiling and walking quickly past the photographers.  _I bet he's going to email that to me.  Nobody else noticed our exchanged, so that's good._

Donna could see the Creation logo and BBC logos on the white backdrop.

The handler immediately began to direct the cast into position, while the publicists stood off to the side. Benedict had warmly greeted his fellow cast members and was chatting amicably with them as if they were alone at a cocktail party with no other eyes on them.

_I don't know how he can make it look so effortless.  None of them seem aware of being watched and photographed.  They're all just laughing and chatting away while waiting to be told where to stand.  I guess it's just another day at work for them._

A male handler came up to Donna and addressed her.   

“Excuse me, but you need to stand with the other PA’s until your boss is finished,” he said in an arrogant tone of voice. 

_Is he talking to me? Why would he think I was Benedict’s PA? He doesn’t have need of a PA._

“I think there may be a misunderstanding…” began Donna. 

“Please step over there with the others. He’s not going to die of thirst, I promise.” 

“I’m not who you seem to think I am. I’m here as…” 

The handler prattled on as if Donna hadn’t spoken. “You must be new to the job. Benedict Cumberbatch has never shown up with a PA in tow, just his publicist, Karon. I guess he’s doing quite well for himself then,” he mused. 

_OH! He thinks I’m Benedict’s PA because I’m holding the water bottle and handing it to him. I guess he didn’t see me posing with him on the red carpet earlier.  
_

“I hate to disappoint you, but I’m not his PA. I’m here as his guest.” 

The man’s face reddened as he looked Donna up and down. “Forgive me, Miss. I’m just used to seeing the actors’ PA’s running after them with their water bottles all the time. Their guests never carry around their water bottles. That’s the PA or publicist’s job to keep them hydrated.” 

“I was just trying to help,” said Donna. “I don’t mind. It gives me something to do while I watch and wait for him to be done.” 

“Why don’t you stand over with the other actors’ plus ones then,” the man said pointing towards a group of people, who stood apart from the publicists. 

“Yes, thank you. I will,” smiled Donna, walking over towards the group. 

_Holy cow! I don’t feel like I belong here with them; but I suppose in reality I do.  
_

Donna stood on the perimeter of the group when the man standing beside her struck up a conversation. 

“This is quite an exciting night yes?” 

“Yes, it sure is. Is this your first red carpet, too?” 

The man laughed. “No. I’m a veteran. However, this is my daughter’s first.” He indicated the actors posing for photos. “My daughter, Martha, is in the film. She plays Darwin’s daughter, Annie,” he said proudly. “That’s her standing beside Benedict Cumberbatch, who plays Joseph Hooker. Who are you here with?” 

“Benedict Cumberbatch,” replied Donna. “I’m Donna Saint James.” 

“Dominic West. Charmed,” he held out his hand. 

_Oh, shit. Dominic West! That’s why he looked so familiar. I saw him walking around with the girl earlier, but couldn’t place him. I need to brush up on British actors._

The two shook hands as the group of actors disbanded and gravitated to their respective spouses and guests. 

“I should have recognized you,” said Donna. 

“Oh, that’s quite alright,” laughed Dominic. “This night is for my daughter to shine.” 

“I’m looking forward to seeing her in the movie.” 

“I hear the finished product is excellent, but then we all want our loved ones to do well, yes?” 

“Without a doubt!” 

“So are you and Benedict dating or are you just a friend?"

"We're in a relationship," replied Donna.

"Have you two been together long then? This is the first time I’ve seen you with him.” 

_Isn’t he the observant one? I guess there is no harm in telling him. It’s not like he’s going to run to the press or anything like that. It’s just simple curiosity._

“We’ve been together eight months. This is my first time attending a premiere with him. It’s a little overwhelming.” 

Dominic laughed quietly. “My daughter will definitely agree with you. She was feeling a bit out of her element when we first arrived; but I can see she’s adapted beautifully.” 

“I never would have taken this for her first time.” 

"Her publicist and I have been coaching her, so I'll take that as a compliment," he laughed heartily.

Donna noticed that the actor had been studying her closely rather than watching the proceedings.

“Your name is very familiar, Donna. I know I’ve heard it before…give me a minute…it’s on the tip of my tongue.” 

_Shit. He probably reads my column. I guess I should own up to it._

“You’re not in the business.” 

“No. I’m a columnist for the London Tribune.” 

Dominic snapped his fingers in recognition. “That’s it! Tasty Travels! I read your column every Sunday. My wife and I adore your snarky reviews. They are our absolute favorites. I’m actually sad when you like a restaurant.” 

Donna laughed. “Thank you, I think.” 

“Donna!” called Karon. “We can go in now!” 

“As you can hear, Benedict’s publicist has summoned me. It was nice meeting you, Dominic.” 

“It was lovely meeting you as well, Donna. Try to relax and enjoy the rest of the evening!” 

 

**********************************************************

  

“Where did you disappear to?” Timothy Carlton asked his wife. “That was an awfully long visit to the bogs – even for you.” 

“I went outside for a breath of fresh air afterwards and happened to come across Ben…” 

“You mean you went outside looking for him. You forget, Commander, I’m well-acquainted with your methods. For fucks sake, Wanda, you couldn’t wait until he came in after the red carpet to see him?”

“I was dying to know how Donna was really doing. I’ve been worried about her.” 

“Had you stayed in here with us, you would have seen that she’s doing a brilliant job of it so far,” said Timothy, indicating the video screen on the wall behind them. 

“That’s what Ben said. I feel much better having heard it from him. Where are Carly and Steve?” 

“They went inside to see where their seats are, and here they are,” said Timothy as the younger couple came to join them. 

“Did they give you good seats?” asked Timothy. 

“Yes! Half-way back, right in the middle,” said Steven. 

“There are boxes on all the seats and soft drinks in the cup holders,” chimed in Carly. “I think there are snacks inside the boxes. I could smell popcorn.” 

“I hope they have that caramel corn with the chocolate drizzle,” Wanda said as the actors began to trickle inside the lobby from the red carpet. “I hate when it’s just buttered and salted. The grease gets all over my hands.” 

“That caramel corn can be pretty messy in its own right,” countered Timothy. 

“Not to worry! I’ve got plenty of wet naps,” announced Carly, opening her handbag and pulling out several. “Here - keep these on you.” 

_She’s just like her sister, bless her,_ thought Wanda. 

“Thank you, Carly,” said Timothy. “That’s one thing they never think to include in these treats boxes. They really should.” 

“When you’re married to a former Girl Scout, you never have to worry because they’re always prepared,” laughed Steven. “Donna’s even worse than Carly when it comes to stocking her purse with _necessities_.” 

_Don’t I know it_ , thought Wanda with amusement. _Since the day I first met Donna at the Orangery, she was ready for whatever crisis life threw at her – and that day she had several come her way. Unfortunately, Tim and I were party to all of them._

_Donna’s handbag is akin to having a portable chemist,_ thought Timothy. _And in her case, it’s a bloody fine idea._

An announcement came over the loudspeaker for everyone to take their seats inside the theatre as the screening was about to begin. 

“I think they mean us,” quipped Steven. “Shall we take our excellent seats, Curly Carly?” 

“Yes, Sir! I love these perks that come with knowing someone in the film. I could really get used to this,” she replied. 

“I really wanted to wait for Ben, but it looks like he’s going to be one of the last ones inside,” remarked Wanda sadly. “We might as well sit down then.” 

“You just snuck outdoors to pester him, Pet. He did assure you that all was well, and Donna still appears to be in one piece. You worry too much. We’ll see them afterwards, Wanda,” said Timothy. 

As they all turned to file into the theatre, Wanda heard her son’s deep baritone voice call out from behind her, followed by Donna’s voice. 

“Mum! Dad! Wait up!” 

“Carly! Steve!” 

Wanda’s face lit up at the sight of her only son. Benedict enveloped her in a hug as she kissed his cheek and whispered something to her. Donna watched as he and Timothy also exchanged hugs. It made her feel warm inside to watch Benedict lavish affection on his parents and see them reciprocate. 

“How was it?” Carly asked Donna in a low voice. “I was getting concerned because you looked a little rattled at first.” 

“That’s because I was,” Donna replied. “I was more than a little rattled, but then I realized this wasn’t about me. Tonight is about Benedict, and I needed to be there for him. As Grandpa Colin would say: I pulled myself up by my bootstraps and did what had to be done. It was fascinating to watch Benedict at work.”

“You’re such a trooper, sister-in-law,” smiled Steven. “The Neil and Toni Show would be proud if they were still here.” 

“Oh, my God! It’s funny you should mention them. I kept hearing Dad’s wisecracks in my head all night!”   

“Better to hear him in your head rather than in person,” declared Steven with a smirk. 

“Amen to that!” agreed Donna. “I loved your red carpet photos. You two looked as if you’d been doing it all your lives!” 

“Steve was able to take a couple of photos of you and Ben before the handlers chased him away.” 

“How did I look?” Donna asked hesitantly. 

“A little overwhelmed, but very pretty,” replied Steve, showing Donna the photos on his cellphone. “See for yourself.” 

“Oh my! I do look like a deer in the headlights,” fretted Donna. “This one isn’t much better. Jeez Louise. My eyes are closed in this one, and Benedict’s mouth is open as if he’s going to say something.” 

“Be patient. I think you’ll approve of the last one,” said Steven. “Here it is!” 

Donna’s face lit up when she saw the last one.   She and Benedict were posing formally for the photographers and smiling at each other, arms about each others waists. 

“You’re right, Steve! I love it! Can you email it to me?” 

“I already did. I also emailed it to Ben, Wanda and your folks.” 

“We were able to watch everything on those overhead screens,” explained Carly, pointing to the wall-mounted screens that now showed an empty red carpet. “I thought you were going to bolt when you first got out of the car.” 

“I considered it,” giggled Donna. “That was very intimidating.” 

“Since when did you become so shy? You never had stage fright when you were singing at Disney. You thrived on the attention,” remarked Steve. “People took photos of us all the time, and I never recall you being even slightly intimidated by it.” 

“That was a theme park, full of tourists, Steve! It was all in good fun. This was different. These were professional journalists and photographers watching and directing my every move – not to mention his publicist loves nothing more than to bark orders and scold Benedict. She's a cross between a general and a school marm. The whole experience was mind-boggling and nothing at all like when we were working at Disney.” 

“I don’t see the difference,” insisted Steve. “It’s still all about being in the spotlight.” 

“I think I know what Donna means,” countered Carly, tossing back her mane of blonde curls. “Disney may have been work; but it was also fun and lighthearted and carefree. This is more serious.” 

“What do you think the chances are that my photos will wind up in the papers?” asked Donna. “There’s a nagging little voice in my head reminding me that I could be written about.” 

“Is that a bad thing?” inquired Steve. “I thought the point of going to these things was to be noticed.” 

“The point is for Benedict to be noticed, not me. I put my identity at risk by being here,” replied Donna. 

“She didn’t have a serious job, which required her to try and remain incognito when she was working at Disney. We were college students,” added Carly. "Though I really doubt anyone had any idea who she was." 

Steve inhaled sharply and let it out. “Well, this certainly wasn’t the place to be if you didn’t want to be seen, Donna.” 

“I know; but I felt it was more important to support Benedict.” 

“If you want my opinion, I think you did the right thing, Donna,” said Carly. “If you’re going to be part of Ben’s life, then this is what’s going to be expected of you.” 

“At the risk of sounding like Toni, it sounds to me as if you didn’t think the consequences through completely,” said Steve. 

“I think in reality the changes of your being recognized are very small, Donna,” said Carly. “We won’t know for sure until the papers come out whether or not you were recognized.” 

“You make a good point, Babe,” chimed in Steve. “The reporters will be focused on the actors and the film rather than their guests. You’re probably safe, Donna.” 

“Oh, I don’t regret coming, guys. It turned out to be very educational and fun in the end. It’s not something I’d want to do all the time, but once in awhile is okay.” 

“Ben was literally beaming as you two walked down the red carpet together,” said Steve. “I said to Carly that he is one very happy man.” 

“I don’t know if you noticed, but Uncle Rodney is here with Aunt Bea,” said Carly. “They blew past everyone and took their seats. They said they’d catch up with us later.” 

“Erm…did I hear that Rodney Renfield was here tonight?” inquired Benedict, coming over to join the conversation with his parents in tow. 

“You heard correctly,” replied Carly. “This will be his first review since he came out of retirement.” 

_Lucky me,_ thought Benedict. _Then the prick undoubtedly will give his review to Neil and Antonia back in New York as soon as he’s done with filing his review with the Times. Who knows? Maybe I’ll get a decent review. He did say I have grown as an actor. What I really need to do is stop giving a fuck about what he says._

Wanda and Timothy exchanged worried glances, but Benedict just appeared to shrug it off. Donna happily noted that he truly did not look concerned in the slightest that Rodney was back in the saddle. 

“You look absolutely lovely tonight, Donna,” Gushed Wanda, her pride evident as she embraced Donna. “You and Ben looked perfect together out there.” 

“And I second that,” smiled Timothy, giving Donna a hug. “Well done, you!” 

“I was feeling anxious at first, but I managed to overcome it and give it my best.” 

“And you did!” exclaimed Carly. 

“She did a brilliant job,” declared Benedict, smiling down at Donna, as he put his arm around her shoulder. “I was so fucking proud of you,” he added, giving her a gentle kiss on the lips. 

“It means a lot to me to hear you say that, Ben Honey,” grinned Donna, returning the kiss. 

_He literally lights up whenever she calls him that,_ thought Timothy. _It’s good to see Benedict so happy. The last time I saw that look in his eyes was when he was with Anna for that brief while.  
_

_He looks infinitely happier than the last time he and Olivia walked a red carpet together,_ thought Wanda _. They both looked as if they were on their way to the gallows. Once I saw those photos, I knew it as only a matter of time._

“See how happy you make him,” Wanda whispered to Donna. “He’s been glowing ever since you got out of the car.” 

“So I’ve heard,” smiled Donna, indicating Steve with an inclination of her head. 

“Not to mention that you are positively glowing as well,” added Wanda. 

“Well, that’s because your son makes me very happy,” whispered back Donna. “Happiness is contagious, don’t you think, Wanda?” 

Wanda smiled and nodded. “Yes, I actually do think that.” 

Donna caught sight of Karon greeting Timothy with a double-cheeked kiss. Benedict then introduced her to Carly and Steven. After exchanging a few pleasantries, Karon approached Wanda and greeted her as she did Timothy. 

“I hate to break up this conversation; but it’s time for you all to go in and take your seats,” said Karon brusquely. “I’ll be outside in the pen gabbing with the other publicists during the screening. Afterwards, I’ll be back here in the lobby, so we can collect the car and head off to the after party.” 

_I do love how Karon can change gears like that_ , thought Donna with amusement. _She was perfectly civil and pleasant to Benedict’s parents and Carly and Steve one moment, then she reverts right back to being a drill sergeant the next. I don’t know about anyone else, but I’m more than ready to relax and watch the movie!  
_

 

 

After Karon had interrupted their conversation, Benedict had politely excused himself and disappeared from the lobby along with the director and other cast members. Soon afterwards, Donna found herself sitting one seat in from the aisle only a few rows back from the screen. The aisle seat was reserved for Benedict, according to a small white label that had been taped to the seat back. The seats beside Donna were occupied by Wanda and Timothy respectively. After looking around for a couple of minutes, she finally spotted Carly and Steve sitting in far better seats that were farther back and in the center. Carly waved to her and held up her treat box, which she nodded approvingly at. Steve had already opened his bottle of water and was munching on something that was inside his box. He gave Donna a jaunty wave in return. Donna spied Rodney Renfield and his wife two rows back from Carly and Steve; but still in the center. Both caught her eye and waved. 

_I wonder why our seats weren’t all together. They have great seats. Ours are too close to the screen. Ugh!_

Wanda immediately opened her treat box and began to take inventory of the contents to Donna’s amusement. 

“We’re in luck! There’s caramel corn, but without the chocolate.” 

“Damn. Movie viewing requires chocolate,” sighed Donna in disappointment. “It’s an unwritten rule,” she added. “At least the water is chilled, which is a nice touch.” 

“I’ve got a small pack of cheese pretzels and some sort of nuts,” commented Timothy. “Wait. I do believe I smell chocolate, Commander. Do you fancy weighing in on this fascinating development?” 

_Timothy kills me when he teases Wanda about being the Commander. If Dad did that to Mom, she would not think it funny; but Wanda’s such a good sport about it. She just takes it in her stride and lets him have his fun.  
_

Donna opened her box and poked around. “Oh, I smell it, too!” 

“Ah ha! Not all is lost, Donna. I just found double-coat, chocolate-covered almonds in here as well,” announced Wanda triumphantly. “Brilliant!” 

“How do you know they’re double-coated?” inquired Donna. “I don’t know until I bite into one…mmmm…yes, they are, too – and they’re yum…very good!” 

“The Commander has had years of experience in identifying double-chocolate-coated items on sight; so it’s best not to question her proclamations,” joked Timothy, leaning over to speak to Donna. 

“How come they gave us such lousy seats?” asked Donna in a low voice. “I thought the actors and their guests would get the best seats.” 

“The invited VIP guests and the critics are allocated the best seats,” explained Wanda. “They scatter the actors about so their seats are all on the aisle.” 

“You should have seen where they had us sat for _Amazing Grace_ ,” laughed Timothy. “The four of us were in the first row. My neck was stiff by the time it was over.” 

_The four of us? Oh, of course, he was still with Olivia back then._

“Do they put the actors on the aisle so they can make a quick getaway if the movie is bad?” half- joked Donna. 

“No. Nothing like that,” replied Timothy. “It’s so they can get to their seats easily once the introductions are made. In that way, they don’t disturb anyone else in the row.” 

“Oh. I get it now. It makes perfect sense.” 

“Or if they choose not to watch the film, it won’t be readily apparent that they’re missing,” added Wanda. “That happens more often than one would think.” 

“Why wouldn’t they watch the finished product?” mused Donna. “I know Benedict hasn’t seen it all put together.” 

“Ben’s not too keen on watching himself on the screen,” replied Timothy. “A lot of actors don’t fancy watching themselves on the big screen. You’ll find some prefer to hang out in the bar or lobby or go back outside to interact with the fans.” 

Donna nodded and took a sip of water. _I sure hope Benedict decides to watch the movie with us. He never said that he might not.  
_

“It’s too bad that Karon can’t watch the movie.” 

“Oh, she can if she chooses to,” said Wanda. “They have a screening room for the publicists and those who were late to arrive.” 

“Knowing Karon, she’ll watch it or at least Ben’s scenes,” chimed in Timothy. “She enjoys Ben’s work, which is why she’s so supportive of him.” 

_Hmmm…she’s got a funny way of showing it at times,_ thought Donna. 

“Karon’s a very savvy and devoted publicist,” explained Wanda as if she knew what Donna was thinking. “She may appear to be a tough bird at first, but I assure you that she’s utterly committed to getting our Ben the best possible exposure.” 

“And that’s because she recognizes his talent and believes in him,” added Timothy. “She’s not going through the motions solely for the pay cheque.” 

_I hope you’re right, Timothy. Part of me thinks she’s doing it because Benedict pays her to, but another part thinks she really does like him and thinks promoting him is worthwhile for both of them. If he makes money, then she makes money…or is that his agent who gets the percentage? Now that I think about it, Karon gets paid a monthly fee for her services whether or not Benedict does well.  It's John Grant who gets the percentage._

The Director, Jon Amiel, came out from the stage wings and took the microphone as a hush fell over the audience. He thanked everyone for coming and introduced the cast members, who had attended, one by one. Donna felt her heart swell with pride as Benedict’s name was announced and he walked out to stand alongside Jim Carter, who Donna recognized as the actor who played the host in _Burlesque Fairy tales_. Jon then gave a brief introduction to the film, which was followed by a round of enthusiastic applause. As soon as the applause had ended, the theatre began to darken and the cast scattered to their respective seats. Donna took the opportunity to slip off her shoes and pull up the arm rest that separated hers and Benedict’s seats. 

_Ahhhhhhhhh! That feels good to get these damn shoes off for a while! The only thing good about these higher heels is that it brings me closer to Benedict’s height._

As the movie began, Donna felt Benedict quietly slip into the empty seat beside her. 

“Anything tasty in the treat box?” he whispered, leaning against Donna and planting a kiss on her temple. 

_I love that she pulled up the arm rest in between the seats so we can cuddle a bit._

“Lots! Popcorn, pretzels and chocolate-covered almonds,” she whispered back. “Now, shush! I want to see this.” 

“I’m not so sure I do. I deplore watching myself on the big screen.” 

Donna linked her arm with his and held his hand as they watched the film. She soon realized that Benedict began to fidget a bit whenever his scenes were about to come up. He pulled his arm away and sat up straighter. As soon as his face appeared on the screen, she watched as he became transfixed on his own movements and words. Donna gently patted his thigh reassuringly and smiled at him, but his eyes were riveted to the screen. 

_Benedict’s evaluating his own performance.   I suppose it can’t be helped. I know he says he always mentally reviews his work to see how he could improve upon it the next time. I guess he’s referring to stage work rather than film work. Once you’ve been filmed, and the Director approves, that’s it. It’s a good thing Benedict’s not in all that many scenes. I’d hate to see what he’d be like if he had the starring role. The man would be a wreck for sure. More likely he’d be out in the bar or outside with the fans.  
_

_What fans, Muffins? Cumberbatch doesn't have any fans!_ Came Neil’s voice once again in her head. 

Donna discovered that in contrast to Benedict’s nervousness, his parents were serenely watching the movie on the other side of her. However, whenever Benedict appeared on the screen, the reaction was one of barely contained excitement. Wanda or Timothy would gently nudge the other one or tap the others' forearm. Then they would nod and grin at each other with obvious pride and joy. 

_How cute they are! I love how excited and proud they are to watch Benedict’s performance. They do not hide their feelings, which I love. I think it’s wonderful that Benedict grew up in such a warm and demonstrative household. Danny’s family was like that. Roy’s – not so much._

During one scene, Donna felt an urgent tap on her arm. Wanda indicated Benedict on the screen with a slight nod of her head and a brilliant smile. Donna smiled warmly at the older woman and nodded her approval. 

_Wanda’s trying to gauge my reaction to Benedict’s performance. I wonder if she’s been watching me all this time?_

 

**********************************************************

 

Wanda Ventham munched on her caramel corn as she carefully studied Donna’s behaviour during the film. 

_Donna hasn't stopped smiling since the film started. She's so excited and happy for Benedict. I like that she’s sitting as close to Ben as she can. He’s always craved physical contact with his lovers. I’m glad Donna’s not afraid to show her affection by touching or kissing him in public, which he clearly adores. I’ve never seen him so happy…and to think I almost was the one to bring them together. However, it’s for the best that they did that on their own. Heaven forbid he find out about that blasted ad one day. I’ll never live it down._

Wanda felt Timothy pat her knee in order to gain her attention. She ignored him as she kept watch on the couple beside her. She noted the tense expression on her son’s face as he watched himself on the screen.   Donna, on the other hand, was clearly enjoying his performance – her lips curved upwards in an approving smile. 

_I wish Ben wouldn’t get so high-strung and anxious while viewing his work. Tim and I were never quite approached that level. I think we both get more nervous when viewing the daily rushes. I do like how Donna tries to soothe him and squeezes his hand and rubs his leg. I can see Ben visibly relax at her touch.  
_

Benedict’s scene was finally over and his face softened as he sat back and took Donna’s hand in his, kissing the back of it. She popped some of the chocolate-coated almonds into his mouth and whispered something that made him giggle. Then he, in turn, fed her some of the popcorn out of his treat box and put his arm around her shoulder. _  
_

_I should stop spying on them, but I enjoy watching their interaction. They are very in sync with one another. Ben’s always been fond of PDA, and Donna seems to not only welcome it; but return it as well. There was one weird bird Ben brought around who made him cringe at her touch…I can’t recall her name. It was something to do with the weather. Sunny. That was it. She was an actress. Oh, I remember! Her stage name was Sunny Day. That bird had one rough touch. I remember how Tim winced when they first shook hands – it was akin to that toff Samantha Alden-Thomas with her vice-like grip of death. I wonder whatever became of her?_

Wanda jumped when Timothy poked her in the ribs. 

“What? Are you out of popcorn already? You can’t have mine.” 

“I would never dream of trying to pinch your treats, unless they are of the carnal variety. Now, the film is up there,” Timothy hissed in a low voice, indicating the screen with his chin. “We have no need for covert surveillance tonight, Commander. All is well in the world.” 

 

**********************************************************

  

Benedict Cumberbatch sighed inwardly at the antics of his parents. _  
_

_For fucks sake! I wish to God that Mum and Dad would cease all the poking and prodding and whispering,_ thought Benedict as he side-eyed his parents. _They think I’m too absorbed in what’s going on up on the screen to notice; but I’m not. They forget that I’m quite adept when it comes to observing several things at once. Donna must think they are as rude as can be._

Benedict felt Donna’s hand settle on the inside of his thigh, dangerously close to his groin. He felt her fingertips caress his leg as he stared at her in the darkness. 

_What the fuck is Donna doing? If she goes any higher, she’ll be grazing my ball sack._

_Looks like I got Benedict’s attention.  
_

_I suppose she’s bored and wants to play. This is not the time or place. I’m technically working.  
_

_This movie is pretty good, but certainly not the best thing that I’ve ever seen. I can’t wait for it to be over so we can go to the after party and have some fun. Then when we get back to my place, I’ll really show him a good time.  
_

“Stop being a cock tease! I’m at work!” growled Benedict through gritted teeth. “I’ll make you sorry you did this when we get back to your flat.” 

“Hmmm...That's what I was hoping you'd say.  Can I safely assume that was a promise?” giggled Donna. 

“Yes!” 

“Excellent! I love when your bossy side comes out.”

  

********************************************************

 

_Well, well. Do I see Donna’s hand moving along my son’s thigh?_ _I applaud her cheekiness. I never pegged Donna for the type to do something like that in public. I suppose the cover of darkness makes her feel braver,_ thought Wanda Ventham with amusement. 

“Bloody hell! Is she groping Ben?” came Timothy’s whisper from beside her. 

“Excuse me, but your eyes should be up there on the screen, not spying on young lovers,” retorted Wanda with a smirk. 

_So, my husband is bored also. There’s lots of boredom to go around tonight._

“It’s not the best film I’ve ever seen; and to be honest, I’m bored,” sighed Timothy. “This is much more interesting.” 

“Donna must be bored as well then,” said Wanda. “I’ve never seen her tease Ben like that in public.” 

“There’s a first time for everything,” Quipped Timothy.  "Besides we're not with them all the time, so who knows what they get up to." 

“Oh dear. Ben doesn’t look happy. He just said something to her,” reported Wanda. 

“Well, from what you just said, Donna is being a bit of a tease, don’t you think?” 

“I have no doubt that she’ll make good on it once they’re alone.” 

An angry male voice suddenly sounded from behind them: 

“Would you two please be quiet or go finish your discussion in the lobby? I don’t care if she’s teasing him or not!” 

_Shit! This is just like what happened at Cabin Pressure,_ thought Wanda. _Though this time it’s Tim’s fault._

“Sorry to have disturbed you,” she muttered. 

 

“He done told us, Pet,” murmured Timothy Carlton as he offered his wife his chocolate-covered almonds. “Our apologies, Mate,” he said to the man over his shoulder. 

“If you kept your bloody eyes on the screen rather than watching what’s going on with the couple beside your wife, that wouldn’t have happened!” 

 

******************************************************

  

Benedict drank some water as a voice raised in anger behind him caught his attention: 

“Would you two please be quiet or go finish your discussion in the lobby? I don’t care if she’s teasing him or not!” 

“Sorry to have disturbed you,” Wanda muttered. 

“If they’re that randy then they need to leave and book a bloody room!”

“He done told us, Pet,” murmured Timothy. “Our apologies, Mate.” 

“If you kept your bloody eyes on the screen rather than watching what’s going on with the couple beside your wife, that wouldn’t have happened!” 

_For fucks sake!_ _That bloke was referring to me and Donna!_ Thought a mortified Benedict. _Mum and Dad have gone and disturbed the people around them once again. This happens every single fucking time they attend one of my screenings. I wish I were in the position to arrange private screenings for them!_

_Wanda and Tim got called out for talking – apparently about our behavior,_ thought Donna.  _She’s been eavesdropping and running commentary for him all this time. How embarrassing! Ben looks as if he wants to crawl away. To be honest, I wish we could leave._

“I wish we could sneak out before the lights come up,” whispered Donna. 

“It’s just about over,” said Benedict, leaning down to collect up the two treat boxes and water bottles from the floor. “Let’s go wait for them in the lobby.” 

“Don’t forget that we have to take the trash with us,” said Donna, leaning down as well. 

“No worries. I’ve got it.” 

“No, I’ll get it. I’m the one who put it there.” 

"Oiy!  That was my bloody head!"

"Owww!"

Donna wound up knocking heads with a surprised Benedict, who dropped the water bottles he had been holding. They watched in horror as the bottles rolled under the seats in front of them. 

_NOOOOOOOOOOO!_ Thought Donna.  _I didn't twist the cap back on mine!_   _I hope to hell the frigging thing doesn't leak!_

_Fuck me! I can’t reach them!_ Thought Benedict, trying to capture the bottles with his foot before they rolled out of his reach. _Bollocks!_

It was too late as the plastic bottles came to rest against the feet of the woman in front of them, who jumped at the contact. 

“What in bloody hell is this?” exclaimed the woman, looking down. “My feet are wet!”

_Son of a bitch!  It leaked alright_ , thought a mortified Donna.  _Just what I didn't want to happen. Why me?_

“That’s what happens to people who take off their shoes,” Benedict whispered to Donna. “You never know when the unexpected will happen!” 

“Point made and taken,” agreed Donna, trying to shove her feet back into her shoes. Unfortunately, her feet had swelled a bit and it was difficult to get them back on. “Shit! I’m having trouble getting my shoes back on.” 

“Shame on you, Donna. I thought I broke you of that nasty habit.” 

“Well, you didn’t. My feet hurt!” 

“You never know when you have to make a quick getaway – like now.” 

“We can’t just sneak out of here without the trash,” insisted Donna. 

“Some wanker thought it would be funny to toss their rubbish on the floor,” said the woman’s companion, peering behind her in the darkness. “I can’t see who it was.” 

“People can be such pigs!” 

The credits began to roll and Benedict tugged Donna’s hand urgently. 

“Now!” 

“Just a second, I’ve got to put my shoes back on!” 

“Shit! Tomorrow I’m taking you shopping for a pair of proper shoes that don’t hurt all the fucking time!” 

“You go ahead. I’ve got one back on…I just need to get the other one…” 

Benedict was halfway out of his seat when the lights came up and the women turned around to glare at him and Donna, who got caught desperately trying to squeeze her left shoe back on. One of them stood up and held out the empty water bottles to them. There was applause and people began to get up and collect their belongings. Donna could hear mostly positive chatter about the movie around her. 

“I believe these belong to you,” the woman sneered angrily at Benedict. 

Benedict sheepishly took them from her. “They somehow got away from us…” 

“He was in the movie,” said her companion excitedly. “He played Joseph Hooker. He had all that facial hair!” 

“That figures,” snarled her friend. “These bloody posh actors think they’re better than everyone else and don’t have to bin their own rubbish. They just leave it for others to bin it for them.” 

“It wasn’t like that at all!” cried Donna defensively. “We both tried to grab them at the same time, and he dropped the bottles when our heads bumped. It was totally innocent!” 

The woman ignored Donna’s comment and continued to berate a red-faced Benedict as some of the crowd began to pay attention to the outburst. 

“You should be ashamed of yourself. What would your mother say?” 

“His mother would say that they’re both telling the truth. I was sat next to them and saw the whole thing. I also assure you that he’s been brought up to be very considerate and mindful of his surroundings and the disposal of his rubbish,” declared an angry Wanda, eyes flashing. 

_The Commander needs to mind her own business._   "Wanda, hush!" hissed Timothy, tugging on her jacket. 

Wanda just ignored him.

“And what business is it of yours?” demanded the woman, hands on hips. 

“You sound like his mother,” commented her companion. 

“I just happen to be his mother.” 

“Well, your lessons certainly didn’t take hold very well,” the woman with the wet feet snickered. 

“Didn’t your mother teach you that it’s rude to remove your shoes in public?” demanded Wanda. 

“How would you know if my shoes were off or not? My shoes were not off,” snapped the woman. 

_They sure as shit were,_ thought Wanda angrily. _I could smell your malodorous feet all night._

“Of course they were, Dearie,” retorted Wanda with distaste. “I could smell your stinking feet all through the film!” 

_Holy cow! I bet Wanda noticed that I also had mine off,_ thought Donna. 

“Please let’s not make a scene!” Began Donna. 

“Stop trying to change the subject,” said the woman to Wanda. “Your son and his…” 

“Girlfriend,” finished Donna. 

“ _Girlfriend_ ,” spat the woman. 

“You know they sell specially-treated insoles to put inside shoes to absorb vile odours like that,” said Wanda loudly. “If I were you, I’d go straight away to the chemist and buy a pair.” 

“Or you could simply put a dryer sheet in your shoes,” added Donna. 

_Like she does to mine,_ thought Benedict. _It does work._

“You need to tell your boyfriend that he needs to learn to bin his own rubbish,” the woman said to Donna. 

“I’m not invisible you know,” snapped Benedict. “You can simply address me rather than talking amongst yourselves as if I weren’t here.” 

“Benedict would never do such a thing!” argued Donna. “He always takes care to put his trash in the first trash can he sees!” 

“Says you!” laughed the woman bitterly. “You don’t have to traipse around all night in wet stockings. I do.” 

“Then you should have kept your shoes on your feet,” said Wanda. “Then you would have had dry feet, and my nose wouldn’t have had to suffer that ungodly assault for the past two hours!” 

“I assure you that I don’t make it a habit of littering, Madame,” said Benedict, finally able to get a word in edgewise. “I’m also truly sorry about letting the bottles get away from us. There’s really nothing more I can say except that I’m sorry.” 

“Says you,” shot back the woman. “I just don’t understand…” 

“Mum, Donna, I think it’s best that we go to the lobby now.” 

“It could have happened to anyone!” insisted Donna vehemently. “It was an accident!” 

_Famous last words,_ thought Wanda. _With Donna around there is always an accident, bless her.  
_

_I think I’ll go out the other side and spare myself some further embarrassment,_ thought Timothy as he quietly sidled out of the row _. The Commander doesn’t seem to require my intervention to sort this out. She’s proving once again that she’s more than capable of holding her own during a battle._

“Your rubbish shouldn’t have been sat on the floor in the first place,” snapped the woman. “My feet are all wet from your water!” 

Benedict pulled Donna’s hand gently. “Donna. Please stop baiting her and let’s go. You’re not going to win this.” 

Donna ignored him. “You should have kept your shoes on,” she retorted. 

“I see _you_ took off your shoes,” countered the woman, pointing at Donna’s unclad foot. 

_Touche. She’s got a point. I’ll never take my shoes off again._

Benedict gazed at Donna and blinked. “It just dawned on me. You didn’t finish your water,” he blurted out accusingly. “You always finish your water – and mine as well!” 

“I didn’t want to have to pee again.” 

“You didn’t think to cap the motherfucking bottle tightly?” 

“Um…no. Sorry.” 

“By the way, I thought you were quite good in the film,” said the companion to Benedict. 

“Don’t quit your day job,” snarled the other as she angrily exited her row and stomped up the aisle. “You look like a lizard.” 

“What an awful thing to say!” blurted Donna. "He doesn't look anything like a lizard!" 

Wanda drew herself up and tried to push past Donna in vain. “How dare you! And you look like a …” 

“Mother! Donna!” hissed Benedict, blocking their way. “Please control yourselves. Let her go.” 

“Well, someone had to stand up for you,” scoffed Wanda, picking up her handbag. “I didn’t hear you speaking up for yourself.” 

“Why should I when I had both you and Donna doing such a brilliant job of it? Between the two of you I couldn’t get a bloody word in edgewise!” 

“I’m sorry, Ben. She just made me so angry that…” began Donna. 

“Let’s forget it now and try to enjoy the remainder of the night without inciting anyone else,” said Benedict, picking up Donna’s purse and handing it to her. “Jesus, do you have lead weights in this thing?” 

“No. It’s the bag itself that’s a little heavy. It’s made of metal.” 

“No wonder Karon winced when you tossed it at her.” 

“I sincerely hope that woman isn’t invited to the after party,” remarked Wanda as they filed out of their row. “You surely don’t need a repeat of that, don’t you agree, Tim?” 

There was no response from Timothy. 

“Tim?” Wanda began to look over her shoulder. 

“He went out the other end of the row,” Donna informed her.

“As if he didn’t know us,” added Wanda with annoyance. 

“That’s typical Dad,” laughed Benedict. “He does things like that all the time,” he said as an aside to Donna. 

“I also hope that woman isn’t at the after party,” Donna said. “That would be awful.” 

“With my luck, she’ll be related to Jon or one of the critics,” sighed Benedict as they trudged up the aisle towards the lobby exit. 

“Speaking of which, we’re about to encounter one now,” said Wanda, tugging on Benedict’s sleeve. “Isn’t that Rodney Renfield waiting at the exit to the stalls?”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy 2016 to everyone!


	114. Chapter 114

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Creation Premiere and after party – Part 3. Benedict and Donna receive ‘reviews’. Donna meets a colleague of Benedict’s.
> 
> Warning: Be prepared for more swearing than usual in the second half of this chapter. If easily offended by very strong language, please feel free to skip it.

  

Benedict Cumberbatch felt his stomach automatically knot at the sight of London Times Entertainment Critic Rodney Renfield standing just inside the exit doors. The dapper critic was observing him; Donna and Wanda make their way out of the stalls. Benedict watched in dread as Renfield raised his hand in greeting and waved them over. Donna gave him a big smile and returned the wave enthusiastically. 

_Glad to see someone’s excited to see the wanker,_ thought Benedict with mounting apprehension as he looked down at Donna. _This is one encounter I’m not especially looking forward to.  
_

_Benedict no longer looks as if he doesn’t care about what Uncle Rodney has to say. He looks like he’s walking the last mile_ , thought Donna _. I really do think Benedict’s worrying for nothing. I can’t see how Uncle Rodney could possibly find fault in Ben’s performance. It was very good.  
_

_My son’s cavalier attitude has vanished,_ thought Wanda. _If I didn’t know better, I’d wager that Benedict would bolt from here if given the opportunity rather than face Renfield._

Benedict sighed deeply. “I feel as if I’m about to encounter Lucifer. Do you suppose he’s waiting for us?” 

“I’m sure Uncle Rodney just wants to say hello before he leaves to write his review,” replied Donna. “Maybe if you’re lucky, he’ll even tell you what he thinks.” 

“That could be a mixed blessing,” declared a wary Wanda. “He’s not one of Ben’s fans.” 

“Not true, Wanda!” protested Donna. “Uncle Rodney has praised a lot of Benedict’s work recently…” 

“In private, perhaps; but not when he was actively reviewing for the London Times,” retorted Wanda. “He’s every bit as brutal as your father, pardon me for saying.” 

“Mum, please don’t be stropy with Donna! She’s neither responsible for Renfield’s reviews nor her father’s for that matter.” 

“No offense was intended towards you, Donna,” said Wanda in a gentle tone. “I think you realize that.” 

Donna nodded. “I do. No was offense taken, Wanda. However, I think you’re both jumping the gun here. This is Uncle Rodney’s first review since coming out of retirement, so perhaps he’ll take it easy his first time out.” 

Benedict stopped in the middle of the aisle to fix her with a look as people drifted around them. 

_Is she daft? Rodney Renfield take it easy on a review? Donna’s being too optimistic_. 

Donna sensed what Benedict was about to say and raised her hand to prevent him from speaking. 

“You don’t have to say anything, Ben. I know what you’re going to say, and you’re probably right. On second thought Uncle Rodney will not hold back – regardless of your relationship to me.” 

“We don’t know for sure if he even wants to discuss the film,” declared Benedict. “He may just want to say hello before taking his leave.” 

“If he decides to tell you; and it’s bad, just let it roll off your back,” whispered Wanda. “It’s just one wanker’s opinion. You have to see what the other critics have to say as well.” 

“And said wanker just happens to be the most important of all the London critics,” whispered Benedict. “I seriously think I’m going to be sick.” 

“Why don’t we all stop putting the proverbial cart before the horse and put this in perspective,” suggested Timothy, who had come up from behind them. “You didn’t have all that many scenes, Ben; so his focus will most likely be on Paul Bettany, Jennifer Connelly and Martha West. If I were them, I’d be nervous. You - not so much. It was just a supporting role. 

“That does make a lot of sense, Tim,” agreed Wanda. “He’ll focus primarily on the principal actors.” 

“I really hope to hell you’re right, Dad,” said Benedict, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Tim, why did you go out the other end of the row?” inquired Wanda nonchalantly. 

Timothy glanced at his wife of thirty-three years and could tell she was not amused that he had disappeared the way he did. 

_I know that tone of voice, Wanda. You’re not happy. The answer is: because I didn’t fancy being embarrassed. However, now is not the time or the place to argue the point._

“Because everyone to my right was moving quicker than we were,” replied Timothy innocently. “I also needed to use the loo. Urgently,” he added. 

“You were the fourth seat in,” countered Wanda, knowingly. “You had to practically cross the entire row to get out.” 

Timothy did his best to sound honestly surprised. “Really? It certainly didn’t seem that way at the time. I did attempt to get your attention and point it out to you, but you were too busy taking in Ben’s interaction with one of the fans.” 

_To be fair, I didn’t try very hard at all. I may have even forgotten to try and garner her attention. I got the hell out of there as fast as I could.  
_

_Don’t lie to me, Timothy Cumberbatch, you snuck out of here hoping no one would realize you were with us,_ thought Wanda. _I know exactly why you left from the other end of the row._

“I wouldn’t have called it a fan interaction exactly,” said Benedict, rubbing the back of his neck again. “It was more of an unfortunate incident with a loosely capped, half full water bottle inadvertently winding up under the feet of the woman in front of us and wetting them.” 

“Let’s call it a quiet commotion that is thankfully now over,” chimed in Donna. 

Timothy frowned at Donna. _Quiet? No, it wasn’t quiet by any stretch of the imagination. Commotion? Yes, it was a full scale commotion without a doubt. I’m so glad I took an alternate route out of there._

“There’s no need to be concerned, it’s all been sorted,” added Wanda, looking around to see if the woman or her companion were anywhere in the lobby. “It appears they’ve gone. I don’t see them anywhere.” 

“Now, how about we put that behind us and mingle with someone whose opinion really counts!” said Donna excitedly as she tugged Benedict’s hand. 

_Two public dressing downs in one evening, lucky me,_ thought Benedict as he reluctantly trailed after Donna and his parents into the lobby where Rodney and Beatrice Renfield were standing, deep in conversation with Carly and Steven Cipriano. 

The balding, mustached critic studied Benedict closely while they shook hands and exchanged cordial greetings. Then he followed suit with Wanda and Timothy. After all the pleasantries were aside, Rodney put his arm around Benedict’s shoulder and addressed the group. 

“I hope you won’t mind my stealing Ben for a couple of minutes. I’d like to have a bit of private time with him. We shan’t be long.” 

 

 

A stunned Benedict Cumberbatch sat in the back of the limo en route to the _Creation_ after party. He still could not believe that Rodney Renfield had taken him aside to speak privately with him. The surreal scene had taken place less than ten minutes ago, and Benedict still found himself at a loss for words. 

“See, that wasn’t so bad now, was it?” Donna asked him with a smile, as she leaned over and patted his hand. “You were so anxious when Uncle Rodney came up to you that I thought your knees were going to buckle.” 

“That’s because they were,” replied Benedict, ruffling his hair. “I wish you could have stood with me so I could lean on you. I did think I was going to puke or swoon at the very least.” 

“Well, Uncle Rodney was very insistent that he only speak with you. I’m glad you didn’t throw up on him,” laughed Donna. “That would have been a real mess – and for nothing.” 

“Would you care to fill me in on this, Ben? I’d like to know if Rodney Renfield had anything positive to say about the film and your performance,” said Karon from the front seat of the limo. 

“You’re not going to believe this, but he told me in confidence that he thought the film rather good with decent performances by everyone,” reported a clearly relieved Benedict. 

Karon turned in her seat, mouth agape. “Well, that _is_ high praise coming from him! You should be over the moon.” 

“Oh, I am,” confirmed Benedict, popping a chocolate mint into his mouth. “I’m relieved as fuck. I was convinced that he was going to tell me just how bad the film and I were.” 

“But he didn’t,” interrupted Donna. “He actually liked the film, Karon! And he told Benedict his performance was very good and that he’d come a long way since he had first laid eyes on him.” 

“I felt very encouraged after he spoke,” admitted Benedict. “It was a pleasant surprise. My parents couldn’t get over it when I told them. They were just over the moon.” 

_Benedict isn’t supposed to talk about it until the review is published_. _I wish he didn’t have such a big mouth; but this time I’m glad he came out with it,_ thought Donna. _He means no harm_. _Things just come out inadvertently. I guess it was because he was so relieved and happy._

“I appreciate your sharing with me then. I won’t say a word. Did he say anything about your performance in particular?” inquired Karon. 

Benedict nodded. “Yeah. He said I made the most of my few scenes and gave a solid performance.” 

“That was it then?” 

“Yeah,” answered Benedict, scratching his earlobe. “But that was more than enough to satisfy me.” 

“Uncle Rodney’s not supposed to tell anyone his opinions until he writes and files his review. He took a chance telling Benedict that much,” elaborated Donna. 

“I swore on all that is holy that I would not say a word until the reviews are posted and read at the party,” added Benedict. 

“And yet you not only told Donna but your parents and me as well,” remarked Karon. “That was taking a chance.” 

“Technically, it was a breach of confidence,” added Donna. 

“Thank you, _Antonia_ ,” retorted Benedict with a smirk. “I hadn’t realized your mother had joined us.”

“Donna’s right,” said Karon. “You have to be very careful not to leak these things.” 

“I’m sure he probably realized that I’d surely tell Donna what he said.” 

“Just not your parents and publicist,” snorted Karon. “I suppose Rodney Renfield hadn’t a clue as to who he was dealing with - an actor with a constantly malfunctioning mouth filter.” 

"I did swear but..." 

“Now, swearing is something that you excel at quite well,” snickered Karon. “No worries there.” 

“Not _that_ sort of swearing,” countered Benedict defensively. 

“You told me that you told him that you were relieved as fuck that he liked it as you were scared shit of hearing what he had to say,” chimed in Donna. “And then you said…” 

“I’m sure Karon gets the picture, Darling. Thank you for the input.” 

_And that means shut the fuck up, Donna. I get it. I will now shut up and enjoy the ride while Ben and Karon rehash the night so far. I’m curious to hear what she has to say, if anything._

“Did you view the film then?” Benedict asked Karon. “Or did you chat up your fellow publicists for intel?” 

“Of course I was intel gathering! The pen is the perfect place to pick up tidbits, though tonight the pickings were slim. The opportunities are far better at the larger premieres. I did see the scenes you were in and thought you brilliant as always,” replied Karon with a sincere smile. 

“Thank you,” said Benedict. 

“I don’t think it’s going to turn out to be an Oscar-nominated block buster, but the box office receipts will be respectable.” 

“Well, I knew that when I accepted the role.” 

“The important thing is that you got exposure and positive feedback in a decent film.” 

“That’s exactly what Rodney Renfield said,” mused Benedict, leaning his head back against the seat and closing his eyes. 

“Imagine that! I could have had a career as a film critic rather than choosing to shepherd actors around and solve their problems,” mused Karon, looking at Benedict through the mirror on the back of the sun visor. 

“Let’s hope the other critics weigh in with similar comments,” said Benedict. 

They rode for a several minutes without any further conversation until Karon decided to break the silence. 

“I understand there was a bit of a row with one of the women sat in front of you tonight,” began Karon. “Would you like to tell me about it?” 

Benedict’s eyes popped open. The expression on his face was one of dread coupled with disbelief. 

_No, I don’t! I have to, I suppose, before she hears it from somebody else or heaven forbid reads about it in one of the tabloids.  
_

_Crap. She somehow got wind of it, and now she’s going to come down on my honey. I can’t let him take the blame! It was my fault. I guess I should own up,_ thought Donna _.  
_

“We weren’t intentionally littering,” explained Donna in a reasonable tone of voice. “The water bottles got away from us and rolled under the woman’s feet. She had taken off her shoes; so when one of the water bottles leaked, she wound up with wet feet.” 

“May I start by asking what they were doing on the floor in the first place?” 

“Well, when we finished our snacks, I realized that we needed a place to put the trash until the movie was over,” replied Donna matter of factly. “So I set everything on the floor. Then as the credits were rolling, Benedict and I both went to retrieve the bottles and boxes at the same time, and we butted heads. That’s how the bottles got away from us.” 

“You could have held the boxes on your laps and put the bottles in the holders that are built into the arm rests until the film ended, thus preventing this whole incident,” declared Karon wearily. 

“I pulled up the arm rests so Ben and I could sit closer,” explained Donna. 

“Premieres are not for cuddling during the viewing, Donna. You need to remain in your own seat and watch the film. This is, after all, Ben’s job; and even though it may not seem like it, he’s working the whole time. He’s also under constant surveillance and people pick up on these things.” 

“We weren’t cuddling by any stretch of the imagination, Karon,” snapped Benedict. “You’re making it sound as if Donna crawled onto my lap for fucks sake! We were just sitting closer with no armrest between us is all!   Nothing funny was going on. I’ve seen other couples sit like that at premieres. You’re acting as if she gave me a blow job during the film. I do know how to behave myself at premieres. This was Donna’s first premiere, so how about going easy on her. I think she did a fucking brilliant job of supporting me tonight, don’t you agree?” 

_I knew as soon as the words left my mouth that was a mistake,_ thought Benedict. _I opened the motherfucking floodgates – not that Karon needs an invitation. She’ll say what’s on her mind sooner or later._

_And now is the moment I’ve been dreading: my review,_ thought Donna. _I already lost points with putting the trash from the treats on the floor and attempting to cuddle with Benedict a little.  
_

Karon turned around to face forward as her mobile began to ring. She shook her head and frowned as she answered it. 

“Now’s not a good time, Eddie. I was just going over things with Ben.” 

“Saved by Eddie Izzard!” giggled Donna. “I’ve never met him, but I do love him.” 

“We haven’t been saved for long. This is just a momentary reprieve. She’ll go right back to it as soon as she’s done with him.” 

Donna noticed that her stern expression softened as she listened to her partner’s words. Then she smiled and nodded to herself. “Actually, that sounds heavenly, Love. Thank you. See you later. Cheers,” said Karon as she rang off. 

_Whatever he said pleased her. That’s good_ , thought Donna. “Looks like we’re off the hook,” she whispered to Benedict. 

“That’s what you think,” snickered Benedict. “Don’t be fooled just because she liked whatever it was he told her. She’s about to pick up where she left off.” 

“Is everything alright at home then, Karon?” Benedict asked. 

“Oh, yes,” she smiled. “Eddie is such a considerate chap. He always has a nice little surprise waiting for me whenever I get back from these events.” 

“Ah, I see. That means a hot bubble bath and a glass of wine,” laughed Benedict. “I wish Eddie could have the same waiting for me when I get home.” 

“You haven’t a clue as to how much I’m looking forward to it!” sighed Karon. 

“We could do that when we get back,” Donna said to Benedict. “I’ll make sure to use the bubble bath that doesn’t make your private parts itch or the one that gives you the rash.” 

Benedict saw Karon raise a questioning eyebrow at him in the visor mirror. 

“I have very sensitive skin,” snapped Benedict as Karon began to giggle.

“Let’s see how the party goes,” he whispered to Donna. “I’ve already got plans for us that don’t involve a bath.” He winked at her suggestively. 

They rode for a bit more in silence until they came to a stop light. As soon as it changed, Karon addressed Donna. 

“Donna, I think you got off to a rocky start, but made up ground quickly,” began Karon. “Premieres can be very intimidating no matter how prepared you may think you are. As Ben pointed out, this was your first, so it was undoubtedly very stressful – for both of us.” 

“It was more stressful than I imagined it would be,” admitted Donna. “I felt I had come into this knowing what to expect; but yet it was so different in reality. It’s one thing to be on the sidelines or at home watching everything unfold on TV; but it’s a whole other ballgame when you’re actually doing it. There is so much involved, and it seemed like it would be a piece of cake in your office, only it wasn’t. I felt out of place at first, and then I began to relax a bit and remember all the things you told me that day in your office.” 

“It’s good to hear that _someone_ listens to me,” quipped Karon, looking at Benedict pointedly. 

“Your coaching really did help me, Karon. It’s an experience that I wouldn’t have missed for the world. Thank you for taking me under your wing.” 

Karon twisted around to smile at Donna. “You’re welcome, and truth be told, you did rather well for your first time out. We’ll work on refining things next time.” 

_And you didn’t overshadow or embarrass my client in any way until the calamity with the infernal treat boxes and water bottles_. _I really hope that was all there was to it. I wish I could be sure.  
_

“I also promise never to set our trash on the floor again,” said Donna. “I’ll make sure to keep my water bottle in my cup holder next time and my trash on my lap.” 

_Which is where it should have been in the bloody first place_ , thought Karon. _Next time I’ll go over inside-the-theatre-etiquette, so she’ll hate me even more than she probably does already. I surely thought Benedict would have filled her in; but he obviously didn’t._

“Jolly good idea,” Karon quipped. 

They rode in silence for a few minutes, each lost in their own thoughts. 

"She really hates me, doesn't she," Donna leaned over to whisper to Benedict.

"No, she doesn't.  Karon just doesn't like change in my personal life...because...well, because there's been a lot of changes over the past two years.  Once she sees that you're not going anywhere, she'll come around."

"I need to change her perception of me, and I'm going to!"

"I'm confident that you'll win her over.  You won me over that night in Barbecoa," he said in a teasing tone. "In spite of yourself."  He grinned and stuck out his tongue at her.

"I do love you, you dork," smiled Donna. 

Karon heard Benedict and Donna speaking in hushed tones from the backseat and snuck a peak through the mirror.  The young woman appeared to be crestfallen; but then Benedict leaned over to whisper something to her as he squeezed her hand reassuringly.  Then he stuck his tongue out at her and she seemed in better spirits. 

_I have a succinct feeling they were talking about me.  Donna seems convinced that I hate her,_ thought Karon. _I need to sort this out because if she and Ben do make a go of things, we’ll be thrown together an awful lot in the future. We need to get along and develop an understanding - and a working relationship of our own._

“I’m sorry if I was hard on you tonight, Donna,” blurted out Karon suddenly from the front seat. “It was only my intention to instruct, never to offend.” 

“I'm starting to realize that now, Karon. At first I didn’t, but it’s okay. I understand that your job is to make Benedict look good, not me.” 

“Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong, Donna. It's paramount to not only make sure my client looks good, but any significant others he may happen to have as well. Like it or not, you are in effect, an extension of Benedict and his brand. There will be a period of adjustment for you when it comes to attending all these various social events with him.” 

_And should his career take off, I will have to do a certain amount of promotion of you, too; but I’ll cross that bridge when and if we come to it. Hopefully, by that point, I’ll have a better idea as to whether Donna’s going to be a permanent fixture in Ben’s life. It does seem to point in that direction; but so did it seem with Olivia. I’ll have to wait and see and make the best of it.  
_

“I’m hoping you’ll continue to find the time to advise me so I can get through it with a minimum of fuss,” said Donna. 

_I’m being paid to, Donna; so no problem there_ , smiled Karon to herself. 

“It’s all part of the service Karon provides to her clients; including the unending snark that comes along with it at no charge,” snickered Benedict. 

“Sod off, Ben!” laughed Karon. 

“Ladies first,” retorted Benedict with a cheeky smile. 

“Holy cow! I never know what to make of you two!” exclaimed Donna. 

“We’re fine, Love,” Benedict assured her. “Karon and I get along brilliantly and have an extraordinary working relationship. We just enjoy taking the piss. It serves to lighten the mood when things start to get intense.” 

“He’s right, Donna. Underneath all this sass and teasing, Ben and I have a mutual respect and genuine fondness for each other,” added Karon. “There’s never been any malice between us. You and I haven’t spent enough time together to develop that kind of rapport.  However, I'm sure we will be in the future; so there will be plenty of opportunity to get to know each other better.” 

Donna nodded. “I’ll be glad when I no longer feel like an outsider at these things.” 

“It’ll take time; but I can see that you’re up to the challenge,” Karon said sincerely. “We’ll sort it out before you know it.” _  
_

Benedict patted Donna’s knee. “Donna, it was absolutely lovely to have you by my side tonight. I can’t wait to see the photos taken of us on Getty Images! Perhaps we’ll make the Daily Mail or one of the other rags.” 

_Jeez Louise! I hope not. Even if I did, they don’t know my name; so I suppose it would be alright._

“I sincerely doubt it,” remarked Karon. “There will be several photos of Ben alone and with the cast on the Getty website - possibly, a couple of you together. I doubt you will make the important papers such as the Times, Tribune or Guardian. I would expect to see only one photo of Ben and then one with the cast on those.” 

“Did anyone ask who I was or what my name was?” asked Donna. 

“No.” Benedict and Karon both answered together. 

_That’s because no one cared who I was, which is better for my job,_ thought Donna. _Then why am I just a tiny bit disappointed? Could it be a small part of me wants to be in the spotlight? The part left over from my Disney days?  
_

_If they knew who you were, not only would there be photos posted; but your name would be out there as well,_ thought Karon. _Should Ben’s career take off, that’s when they will want to know who you are._

“Would you like some water?” Donna asked Benedict, holding out a fresh bottle. 

“Nope. I’m fine.” 

“While we’re on the subject of water bottles,” began Karon carefully. 

“Oh would you like one?” inquired Donna. “There are three left in the bag back here.” 

“Thank you, no. I was wondering if anything else happened with the water bottle incident that I should be privy to.” 

Donna’s eyes met Karon’s in the rear view mirror that was over her sun visor _. Shit. She either knows something or is fishing for information. I wonder if someone told her, but she wants to hear our version?_

“Not that I can think of,” replied Benedict off-handedly. 

_I wonder if Ben’s forgetting about the confrontation between Wanda and that woman on purpose or if he really did? That’s important for Karon to know about._

“What about your mother telling that woman off?” asked Donna in a low voice. 

“Hush!” Benedict said sharply. 

Karon suddenly sat up straighter and turned in her seat. 

_Damn. She didn’t know everything. I guess my voice wasn’t quite low enough, and Benedict’s not-so-subtle exclamation only drew more attention to me._

“Shit. Did Wanda make a huge fuss?” Karon asked warily. _This is the kind of shit I don’t need. One of the supporting actor’s mum getting into a row with one of the audience. This is the kind of thing the Daily Mail would love to get their hands on. Brilliant!  
_

“Well, you know how Mum can get when someone insults my looks,” began Benedict, trying to make light of it. “She got into a bit of a strop.” 

“I’d call it pissed off,” disagreed Donna. “Karon, you know that expression hell hath no fury?” 

“Shit,” sighed Karon. “Only too well. I don’t know of one mother alive who doesn’t come out with both barrels when defending her child.” 

“You should see Karon in action when she’s out on a dog walk,” teased Benedict. “No one, but no one refers to Tess as ugly in her presence.” 

Karon’s face reddened considerably. “Tess is _not_ ugly. She’s adorable.” 

“See what I mean,” laughed Benedict. “Gets her every time!” 

“Stop taking the piss, Ben! We weren’t talking about Tess. We were talking about Wanda when you tried to distract me.” _  
_

“I wouldn’t worry too much, Karon…” ventured Donna. 

_So you say_ , thought Karon. _I’ve seen Wanda in action_ , _and I should be worried._

“…I’ve seen my mother do much worse,” continued Donna in an attempt to soothe Karon. “It wasn’t as bad as it could have been. Wanda was furious and started to let her have it – that was when Benedict stopped her before things got really out of hand.” 

“What a comfort it is to hear that you got things under control before it got completely out of hand,” said Karon sarcastically. “Because it sounds to me as if it did.” 

Benedict and Donna exchanged glances. “It really wasn’t all _that_ terrible,” insisted Benedict, making eyes at Donna to keep quiet. 

“So, is that all that happened then? The bloody water bottle rolled under this woman’s feet, and she got into a strop over it?” 

“It went wrong when the water leaked out of the bottle,” clarified Benedict. 

“Unfortunately, I didn’t cap mine tightly and the water leaked onto the floor,” chimed in Donna. 

“The cow had removed her shoes, so that’s why her bloody feet got wet,” continued Benedict. “She was sat there in stocking feet, the water leaked out of Donna’s bottle and hence the cow’s feet got wet. She went into a strop and made a few snarky comments to us. I apologized profusely, but she wasn’t having any of it. That about sums it up.” 

“And where does Wanda fit into all this?” 

“She was behind me, heard what was going on and basically told the cunt to go fuck off,” laughed Benedict. “Especially when she said I looked like a lizard.” 

“The sad thing is I probably would have told her that, too, had I been there,” declared Karon Maskill as she shook her head and failed to stifle a laugh. 

 

 

An hour later, Benedict Cumberbatch sat on a couch at the _Creation_ after party with a glass of chilled white wine. He took a healthy swallow, smacked his lips and smiled at Donna, who was sitting beside him. 

“This seems like pretty good wine yes?” 

Donna took a tiny sip and nodded. “Yes, it is, considering they don’t always serve the high end stuff at these types of events.” 

“And how would you know that being you don’t attend these types of events?” 

“From Sarah.  She always gives me detailed reports on all the food and drink that she has.” 

“Is stuff another one of your special critic words – like yummy?” 

“Yes it is; however, I wouldn’t describe this wine as yummy. I’d describe it as acceptable, and that’s being kind.” 

“I see,” Benedict took another sip. “I’ll have to trust your judgement then.” 

_I fucking can’t tell the difference. It still tastes okay to me._

“The snacks are very tasty though. The curried cauliflower puffs were very yummy.” 

“I had a miniature steak and ale pie and a Cuban black bean soup shooter whilst I was circulating earlier. They were pretty tasty as well.” 

“Yeah, I had those too. The soup shooters were very good.” 

Benedict glanced at his watch. “I’m not supposed to be sitting here. I’m supposed to be mingling with the guests.” 

“Don’t let me stop you.” 

Benedict took another sip of his wine and sighed. “Yeah, I guess I really should.” 

“It’s too bad your parents left so soon. I was enjoying their company.” 

“They just came in for a drink and to mingle before having a wander around the exhibit. They don’t fancy staying out this late anymore.” 

“Shall we go have a look at the exhibit? That way you’ll be seen as circulating with the crowd.” 

“I thought we’d both see it together during the opening night of the exhibit next week.” 

Donna blinked in puzzlement. “Next week?” 

“This is just a special preview that the producers arranged to coincide with the screening. Next week is the official opening, and I’ve been invited to it. I hope you’ll come with me.” 

_Nothing like giving me notice, Benedict. If I hadn’t said anything, I wonder when he would have sprung that on me?  
_

“Of course I will. Will there be another red carpet?” 

“Yeah. The opening will garner a much larger crowd than this. This is far more intimate.” 

“I guess Karon will want to hold extra help classes for me.” 

“You can rest easy as Karon won’t be there. We’ll be going by ourselves.” 

“Holy shit! Do you mean to tell me that Karon actually trusts you to attend events without her?”

  
Benedict laughed uproariously and nodded. “There’s no need for her to be with me for something like that. All she’ll do is arrange for a car to pick us up and drop us off.” 

“As you like to say: bloody hell!” 

“If you really fancy seeing the exhibit now, please feel free to go ahead. I have to go back and mingle with the crowd,” replied Benedict. “Not that I want to, but I have to. It’s part of the job.” 

Donna shook her head. “No, I’d rather wait and see it with you. I think I’ll go track down Carly and Steve and hang out with them until you’re done.” 

“They went to view the exhibit,” said Benedict. “You could always come along with me and do some mingling of your own. It’s a good way to meet people and do some networking.” 

“But I’m not in the entertainment business, and I don’t really want to talk about what its like to be a restaurant critic tonight.” 

“You could talk about your latest catering venture instead. Honestly, it’s a brilliant way to work in your slogan. Lip smackin’ satisfaction,” he laughed as he smacked his lips for emphasis. “I’m ashamed that I didn’t think of it earlier. Did you bring any of your business cards with you?” 

Donna playfully smacked his arm. “Fuck you.” 

“Always the dirty mind, Miss Saint James. Can you manage to contain yourself until we get back to your place? I promise you can fuck me all night if that pleases you.” 

“I don’t want to be the cause of you not getting enough sleep tonight. You have to get up early for your audition tomorrow. I wouldn’t want to wear you out.” 

“My audition’s right after lunch, so I should have enough time to do both,” smiled Benedict slyly. 

“As long as you’re up for it, Ben Honey.” 

“Part of me is already stirring in anticipation.” 

“You need to disconnect your thrill drill until later,” giggled Donna. 

“Oh, for fucks sake!” guffawed Benedict. “I thought we weren’t going to use pet names for our genitalia.” 

“Sorry, but I couldn’t resist. How about we meet back here when you’re done mingling, and I’ll go see some of the exhibit with Carly and Steve?” 

“I’m fine with it. I promise I shan’t be long, my audition for _After the Dance_ is too important to me to risk fucking it up,” said Benedict, kissing her lightly on the lips. “I’ll make sure to budget enough time to get laid and for proper sleep.” 

“We don’t have to have sex you know.” 

“I know, but you’ve been so randy all night that I don’t want to disappoint you.” 

“You’ve never disappointed me in bed,” whispered Donna as she reached out to stroke his cheek. “You’ve always exceeded my expectations, Benedict Cumberbatch.” 

“That’s because you came to my bed with very low expectations.” 

“Stop teasing me! I’m being serious, Ben. You’re the best lover I’ve ever had – and I’m not just saying it to stroke your ego. I’m saying it because I mean it.” 

“You now realize I won’t be able to get a boner tonight after such lovely comments. My cock will be feeling the pressure.” 

Donna winked at him. “As long as the pressure is coming from my fingertips or tongue that shouldn’t present a problem for either of you.” 

Benedict drank some wine and bit his lower lip. The redness in his cheeks had started to fade. 

“Well, then.  That was my incentive to get this mingling done and over with quickly,” he smiled lasciviously at her.   

Benedict picked up his wine glass and started to get to his feet when a short, sandy-haired man wearing a beige flat cap, jeans and beige jacket with brown trim approached them. There was a brown paisley scarf wound about his neck and the only jewelry he wore was a watch. Donna noted at once how immaculately groomed the man was. 

_Isn’t he the dapper one? English men sure do love their scarves. He looks familiar,_ thought Donna. _Where have I seen him?_

The man regarded Benedict and Donna with a bemused expression on his pleasant-looking face. He was holding a glass of amber-colored liquid with a slice of lemon, and there was a rust, grey and white patterned messenger bag slung over his shoulder. He unceremoniously dropped the bag down on the floor, narrowly missing Donna’s feet by mere inches. 

“Whoa! You need to be careful where you put your bag, Sir!” cried a startled Donna, moving her feet away as quickly as she could. “You almost got my feet.” 

_Holy cow! He could have hurt my insteps with that damn thing. Hmmm…I wonder if that’s how people feel about me when I put down my purse like that. I bet they do.  
_

_Now, isn’t that the pot calling the kettle back,_ thought Benedict, side-eyeing Donna with a brief smirk. _Maybe this near miss will encourage her to mend her ways._

The man chuckled. “ _Almost_ doesn’t count, Lovey; but for what it’s worth I offer up a mostly sincere apology.”

“Mostly sincere?” inquired Donna with a raised eyebrow. 

The man nodded. “Mostly because there’s a small part of me that honestly doesn’t give a flying fuck, so that’s why I feel obligated to say ‘mostly’. Anything more would be a bare-faced lie, and Catholics aren’t supposed to make it a habit to lie – at least that’s what the nuns used to tell us in school.” 

_Jeez Louise! Is this guy serious?_

“Just ignore the tit, Donna,” instructed Benedict. “He’s just taking the piss is all.” 

“Thanks for the advice, Benedict; but it would be nice to know who I’m ignoring here!” Donna muttered under her breath. 

Benedict seemed to not have heard her as his eyes were glued to the man, who had picked up his messenger bag and plopped it onto the couch beside Donna with what appeared to be great annoyance. Then he adjusted his jacket, turned to Benedict and said with a sneer, “The tit has moved his bag. Does this new location meet with your approval, Sir Benedict?” 

“Yes, that’s much better. Now, no one will fall over it.” 

“I would say anyone, but if you fancy no one, then no one it shall be. Anyway, only an asshole who wasn’t watching where they were going would have tripped over my bag…” 

_Hmmm…actually I could see myself doing that because I’m forever in a hurry_ , thought Donna sadly. 

“…and I can pick out several candidates who would easily fit the description here – starting with the pricks of the press.” 

“Are you always this grumpy?” Donna asked the man. 

“Cantankerous is one of my middle names, Lovey. Curmudgeon is the other.” 

_He can’t be serious. He must be playing with me. Benedict doesn’t appear to be offended by his behavior. As a matter of fact, he looks amused by it._

“Are you teasing me?” 

The man pretended to consider her question briefly. “Not really.” 

“Don’t mind him, Donna,” said Benedict. “He’s always like this.” 

_Who is always like this? Aren’t you supposed to introduce me now, Benedict?_

“Aren’t you supposed to check something like that?” Benedict asked the man while indicating the bag with his chin. “I’d think they’d be worried that you’d nick something as a souvenir.” 

“They ran my bag through a fucking scanner just like they do at the bloody airport. I told them I packed it myself and that there were no explosive devices in it, but they didn’t believe me. To think they would treat a VIP guest like a piece of shit is beyond me.” 

“Perhaps they came to the conclusion that you’re a just a cheeky dick and needed to go through the bag check in order to bring you down a few pegs,” snickered Benedict. 

_Who in the hell is this strange little man? It would be nice if Benedict would stop with the verbal dueling and introduce us.   They obviously know each other. I can’t tell if they’re friends or foe.  
_

“I was hoping you were going to say that I didn’t deserve such treatment given my stellar reputation,” said the man with a slight laugh. 

“Not a chance, you wanker,” snorted Benedict. _  
_

The two men studied each other for a moment, before breaking out into huge smiles. 

“Hello, Ben.” 

“Hello, Martin. I was wondering if you were coming to the after party.” 

_Martin. Martin Freeman. Of course. Benedict’s mentioned him many, many times. I should have known. The dry sense of humor , excessive swearing and mod dressing should have been dead giveaways. Yep, this is Martin alright._

Martin turned his gaze on Donna and addressed her.  "You would think that seeing this motherfucker on the red carpet would have been enough for me; but nope.  I had to come search him out in here, too."

_I don't recall seeing Martin and Benedict on the red carpet together.  Oh, I bet it happened when I was in the bathroom._

"That's utter bullshit!" laughed Benedict.  "You only came this way because the bogs are over there."

"All true," laughed Martin. "However, I was wondering where you had gone off to hide. Don’t you think you should be rubbing elbows with the VIPs such as myself rather than sitting around drinking wine with pretty girls in darkened corners?” 

“Erm…no,” replied Benedict. 

“I shouldn’t have to hunt you down you know, but I guess now that you’re such a big star…” 

“Sod off!” snapped Benedict, pretending to be offended. “Who invited you here anyway?” 

“My publicist thought it would be beneficial for me to be seen hobnobbing with big stars such as yourself. I actually came for the free drinks and nibbles,” replied Martin, holding up his glass. “Cheers,” he said taking a sip. 

Donna watched Martin under her eyelashes as he swished the liquor around his mouth and swallowed. 

“Mmmm…this isn’t half bad whiskey, and may I highly recommend the stuffed mushrooms.” 

_Even though I now know who I’m in the presence of, I still would love to be formally introduced. Could it be they secretly dislike each other? It’s hard to tell. Benedict always speaks so fondly of him though._

“I already did some mingling when I got here,” clarified Benedict. “I’m entitled to a brief sit down, don’t you think?” 

“It doesn’t matter what I think. However, my publicist would tell you to haul your sorry arse up off this bloody couch and do some networking,” retorted Martin. “It’s all about the networking you know,” he said as an aside to Donna. “It’s the publicists’ mantra.” 

“Mine would if she could find me,” snickered Benedict. “But I’ve managed to give her the slip.” 

Both men roared with laughter at Benedict’s comment. 

“Well done, but I think you’re really afraid this lovely lady is going to leave as soon as you get off your arse, not that I would blame her in the slightest,” Martin declared, indicating Donna with his glass. “I know if I were in her shoes, I sure as shit would.” 

“I’m not afraid in the slightest,” retorted Benedict with confidence. “The lady’s here with me.” He smiled smugly at Martin, who took a minute to digest Benedict’s words and nodded solemnly to himself. 

“Ah.” 

“Ah?” 

“Yes, ah or do you prefer I use ‘oh’?” 

“What in the fuck is that supposed to mean?” demanded a perplexed Benedict. 

“Ah - as in that I suppose people don’t always make the wisest choices or did you corner her by some insane stroke of luck?” 

“Hey!” interjected Donna. “I’m here with Benedict by choice!” 

Martin feigned surprise and shrugged. “Like I said, that wasn’t the best choice, Lovey. There are plenty of men here who are far better looking, richer and more eloquent than this son of a bitch. I sure as hell wouldn’t be seen dead with the likes of him, but to each his or her own.” 

“Piss off,” said Benedict with a wave of his hand. 

“Piss off? I only just got here!” exclaimed Martin indignantly. “You could at least humour me with a little idle chit chat before telling me to piss off.” 

“I already did you right bastard.” 

“Hmmm…and so you did,” reflected Martin calmly. “Shall I really piss off then or shall we both drop the snarky banter and have a real conversation?” 

“I’ll need to think about that long and hard,” shot back Benedict, trying to conceal a smile. “I was rather enjoying the snarky banter.” 

“For fucks sake! Spit it out, Ben! I don’t have all bloody night!  I really do need the loo.  I didn't just have a wander over here.” 

“No you don't."

"Alright then, being you're psychic and know the capacity of my fucking bladder. Let’s have that conversation, shall we?” 

“You’re quite sure then? I wouldn’t want to over tax your brain - or your bladder.” 

The two men stared at each other for a long minute and simultaneously took a sip of their respective drinks, which they immediately spit out as they both burst out laughing. 

“I know I told you to spit it out, but I was only fucking with you,” giggled Martin as he quickly blotted up the whiskey that he had spewed on the low table that was in front of the couch. “I didn’t mean it literally!” 

“Have I ever told you that you’re a right bastard?” asked Benedict, wiping his mouth with a cocktail napkin that Donna had handed off to him. 

Martin pursed his lips. “Many times, actually. So many that I’ve since lost count.” He drank some of his drink while he waited to see where Benedict would steer the conversation. 

“So, what did you think of the film?” asked Benedict hesitantly. 

“I thought it was very interesting, which is why I came to see it in the first place – not because my publicist wanted me to or that you were in it. I want to be very clear about that.” 

Donna sat still, watching the verbal volleys continue to fly between the two men in fascination. 

_Holy cow! One minute Martin’s sarcastic, then the next he seems the epitome of sincerity. However, that doesn’t last for long. This seems to be normal behavior for these two whenever they’re together._

“Are you sure you didn’t want to see me just a little bit?” joked Benedict, making a gesture with his thumb and index finger. 

“Nope. I’m chuffed to say that you had nothing to do with it. Darwin’s theory is a subject I’ve been long-interested in. I’ve read several books on the subject, which we’ve already discussed at length. I just came from the exhibit, which was brilliant. Have you had time to see it yet?” 

_They must have been discussing books on the set of Sherlock when they were filming the pilot. He must be an avid reader like Benedict is._

“No. Not yet. I’ll see it when they have the official opening next week. That way I don’t have to rush through it.” 

“I guarantee that you’ll enjoy it. It’s very well done and informative. By the way, you did a very believable Joseph Hooker, Ben. Well done you,” Martin said with the utmost sincerity, holding out his hand in order to shake Benedict’s. 

_Okay. That was a genuine compliment. He really did like both the movie and Benedict’s performance._

“Thank you,” said Benedict, blushing as they shook hands. 

“You’re welcome,” said Martin, face serious. “I think you know by now that I don’t toss around compliments easily. It takes a lot to impress me.” 

“Where’s Amanda tonight?” 

“Home with the smalls,” Martin replied. “Grace is cutting a tooth, so she’s been cranky. Amanda preferred to stay at home with her.” 

_Donna, it’s time you started to ask some questions so you won’t be in the dark. If you wait for Benedict to tell you, it will be New Years._

“Who is Amanda?” inquired Donna. 

Martin huffed and shook his head. “Well, it’s getting more and more obvious that this tit hasn’t told you anything about me. Amanda is my partner, and we have two children together – Joe and Grace.” Martin looked pointedly at Donna with a twinkle in his hazel eyes and then back to Benedict. “And this is?” 

“Oh, fuck me! We’ve been prattling on here as if we were alone,” exclaimed a flustered Benedict. “Please forgive me, Darling. Where are my manners?” 

Martin appeared to look momentarily taken aback at Benedict’s outburst and winked at Donna. 

“Fuck you? No thanks, Mate. It’s not my cuppa even though they assure me you have sex appeal. I’m still waiting to see the evidence of that,” he said as an aside to Donna. 

“I can personally vouch that Benedict oozes sex appeal,” chimed in Donna, smiling widely at Benedict. 

“Well, you could have fooled me, Lovey. Anyway, I’m spoken for and quite happy,” declared Martin, removing his wallet from his messenger bag. He opened it and pulled out a photo, which he offered to Donna and Benedict. “This is my family,” he announced, beaming with pride. “They are absolutely everything to me. I’d be lost without them.” 

_Wow, this is quite a different side of Martin - the proud family man. I can hear the love in his voice. I like that in a man._

Donna examined the photo of Martin and a pretty blonde-haired woman sitting in front of a small Christmas tree, surrounded by two long-haired Dachshund puppies and a fluffy white-haired kitten. Martin was holding a blond-haired toddler on his lap who resembled him. “That’s Joe,” said Martin, pointing to the toddler. “And this is Grace,” he said, pointing to the baby nestled in his mother’s arms. “This was taken this past Christmas, so they’re both quite a bit bigger now.” He smiled fondly at the photo in Donna’s hand. 

“They are absolutely lovely,” sighed Benedict wistfully. “I can’t wait for the day when I have a family of my own. I’m so damn envious.” 

“In case you didn’t know, he’s very broody,” remarked Martin to Donna offhandedly. “I’ve never seen anything quite like it.” 

“I’m well aware that Benedict is eager to have a family like yours one day. Speaking of which, you have a beautiful family, Martin,” said Donna, handing back the photo. 

“Thank you,” replied Martin as he carefully tucked the photo back inside his wallet. “There’s nothing that can compare to being a parent. It’s a very sobering thing – not to mention a very gratifying one. Anyone who tells you otherwise is just spouting rubbish.” 

“I look forward to the day when I become a parent,” sighed Benedict with a dreamy look on his face. “It can’t come too soon for me.” 

Martin tucked his wallet away and looked at Benedict with a gleam in his eye. “As I was saying before we got distracted, thanks anyway for the offer to fuck you, Ben, even though I have to pass on it. I’ve never been much for threesomes. And in answer to your question, I’d say you left your manners at home, you dick,” he tittered. “And to think your folks spent all that fucking money to send you to bloody posh Harrow. Such a fucking waste was that!” 

_Oh, oh. Martin referred to him as posh. That won’t go down well._

To Donna’s surprise, Benedict began to giggle. “Bugger off, you prick!” 

Martin cackled loudly in response. “After you, cock sucker.” Then he turned to regard Donna with curiosity. “Well, being Ben here is too busy insulting me to take time out to make a proper introduction; I’ll just have to bloody well do it myself.” He extended his hand to Donna. “Hello, I’m Martin Freeman.” 

_Oh, Martin, you are going to take some getting used to. I hope to have the opportunity to meet your partner one day. I can’t wait to see what she’s like. I could never imagine myself in a relationship with him._

Donna saw the good humor reflected in both men’s’ eyes as they eyed each other. Then they grinned at each other and dissolved into laughter once again. 

_They aren’t really mad. They really have been joking around this whole time. Martin seems to enjoy shocking people with his swearing and crankiness. It certainly worked on me._

“Hi, Martin. It’s nice to finally meet you as well,” said Donna with a warm smile. “Even though I feel like we’ve been having a conversation as if we had already met.” 

Martin returned Donna’s smile after fixing Benedict with a reproachful look.

“That’s because we have been, Lovey. Now, all I need to know is your name, so I can address you properly.” 

“I’m sorry, Martin. Let me finish the introduction. This is my girlfriend, Donna Saint James,” said Benedict. 

Donna saw immediate recognition at her name momentarily flash in Martin’s eyes. 

_He knows who I am. Let’s hope I didn’t bash one of his favorite restaurants._

Martin raised his eyebrows skeptically. “Girlfriend you say?” 

“Yeah. She’s my girlfriend,” confirmed Benedict proudly. 

Martin appeared to look shocked. “Who would have thunk that this git could get anyone as attractive and intelligent as you to date him?” he declared. “I think I’m gob-smacked.” 

“We’ve been together almost eight months now,” said Donna, smiling at Benedict. 

“How about that?” mused Martin. “I had no idea.” 

“Benedict has told me a lot about you, Martin.” 

“I’m sure none of it was good,” Martin laughed. “However, I assure you that it was most likely true.” 

“That’s not at all what he said,” countered Donna. “Benedict’s said nothing but positive things about you and that you’re a fine actor who he’s looking forward to working with on _Sherlock_.” 

Martin turned to beam at Benedict. “And I feel the same way. I can’t wait to begin filming it come January.” 

“It will be here before we know it,” commented Benedict. 

“Well, I’m sure Ben told you that the sarcasm, swearing and grouchiness are all part of my shtick then,” mused Martin. “I’m also quite sure he told you just how lovable and charming I really am as well.” 

“Yes, he did; but your façade still caught me off guard.”

“Brilliant! That’s what I like to hear,” said a delighted Martin. “To be honest, it’s mostly a put on. This façade – as you call it – entitles me to take the piss or say exactly what’s on my mind without anyone knowing whether or not I’m serious. It’s quite a beautiful thing, really.” 

“It took me awhile before I was able to differentiate when you were being serious and when you weren’t,” pointed out Benedict. “I used to think you were this grouchy bastard in real life.” 

“Well, as you found out, I’m not,” said Martin. “Anyway, it’s good to have a little mystery about oneself, don’t you think, Lovey?” he said to Donna. 

_Oh, you have no idea just how mysterious I am, Martin. I’ve got secrets aplenty to keep,_ thought Donna. 

“Um..yes. A little mystery is good,” stammered Donna. 

“But not too much,” retorted Benedict, eyeing Donna suspiciously. 

_There’s something going on between you and my parents, and I’m going to find out what it is if it takes me forever to do it._

Martin drank some more whiskey and smoothly changed the subject. “So, you’re Donna Saint James who pens the Tasty Travels column for the London Tribune.” 

Donna noticed it was a statement rather than a question. 

_So I wasn’t imagining it. He did recognize my name…unless Benedict told him…though from the sound of it he didn’t. This seems to be the first Martin has heard that Benedict even had a girlfriend_. 

“One and the same,” she admitted. 

“That’s what I thought. We need to talk, Lovey.” Martin made a motion for Donna to move over. 

Before either of them had realized it, Martin Freeman had plopped himself in between Donna and Benedict. He cozied up to Donna and made a face at Benedict before continuing in a serious vein. “You can count my partner, Amanda, and I among your weekly readers,” said Martin. “We especially love it when you don’t fancy the place. There have been times when we laughed our arses off until we cried at some of your snarky descriptions.” 

_Everyone says that. They love my not-so-nice reviews. Just like Daddy’s fans. It’s the nasty ones that get all the attention for the columnist._

“Thank you,” said Donna. 

“I’d like to talk to you about reviewing some more restaurants that cater to vegetarians; but here comes the bloody event photographer looking to interrupt our chat and take some official photos. Shall we be naughty or nice, Ben?” 

“Oh, I don’t know…I’m always in favour of being naughty whenever possible.” 

“Brilliant. This truly is the continuation of a beautiful friendship.” 

“The actual line is Louie, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship,” corrected Benedict in a spot on imitation of Humphrey Bogart. 

“I was paraphrasing for fucks sake, you tit,” clarified Martin haughtily. “If there’s one thing I do know, it’s all the lines from _Casablanca_ inside and out.” 

“Me, too! It’s my favorite movie,” chimed in Donna with enthusiasm. _  
_

“I thought it was _To The Ends of the Earth_ ,” said Benedict with a mock pout. _  
_

Martin’s eyes grew wide, and he blinked at Donna. “Why on earth would you consider that piece of BBC crap one of your favourite movies?” He side-eyed Benedict, and Donna caught a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. _  
_

“It’s one of my favorites,” Donna clarified. Then she reached over to pat Benedict’s knee. “I do love you, Benedict; but it’s like comparing apples to oranges.” 

“Well, the joke’s on me then. I would have sworn it was as you always seem to have it in your DVD player set to loop on that one scene,” Benedict said playfully, as he gazed into her eyes. He crinkled his nose and smiled at her. _  
_

_Stop with that damn adorable nose crinkle and turn on your damn mouth filter, Benedict, and keep it on!  
_

“It’s because I keep forgetting to turn the loop feature off. I had it set like that for another movie I was watching,” retorted Donna. _  
_

Benedict gave her a smug smile. _“_ Of course you were, Darling. I’ll fix it when we get back to your flat tonight. I wouldn’t want you to be stuck watching the same scene over and over. It must be boring.” _  
_

“You’re never boring to me, Ben Honey.” _  
_

“Said photographer is about to descend upon us,” sighed Martin. “Shall we prepare to shift into naughty gear then?” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively at Benedict and Donna. 

“Why are they taking more photos?” asked Donna in a low voice. “I thought photographers can’t come in here.” 

“The paps can’t. However, this one is official – he was hired to be here. He’s got carte blanche to take photos of everyone,” explained Benedict. “If you’d rather not, I’ll just ask him politely to let you leave; and they can photograph Martin and me only.” 

“Oh, come on, Donna. Stay and let’s have some fun with this,” said Martin, poking her gently in the ribs. “Let’s give the poor sod something interesting to photograph rather than the same old boring shit, shall we?” 

Donna giggled as Martin pretended to sit with drink in hand and stare stonily straight ahead as if posing for the camera. The he flashed a toothsome smile, followed by one scowling with the middle finger of his free hand raised at the pretend camera. “Shall I flip him the bird? What do you think?” 

“I think you’re hilarious, Martin; but are you _always_ so sassy? I would think you must get weary of playing the curmudgeon all the time, don’t you?” asked Donna. 

“Am I always sassy? Oh, absolutely,” deadpanned Martin. “Do I get tired of playing the curmudgeon? Fuck no! I told you curmudgeon is one of my middle names. I come by it honestly.” 

“And not only can I personally vouch for that; but I wouldn’t have him any other way either,” declared Benedict, clapping Martin on the shoulder. “You should come visit us on the set in January, Donna. We’re always having a giggle, aren’t we, Martin?” 

“Always.  And they’re usually at his expense,” agreed Martin, keeping one eye on the photographer. “Now, let’s shake the prick up and make him think we’re having a threesome.” 

“Are you okay with that, Donna?” asked Benedict worriedly. 

_Oh, why the hell not? No one’s going to recognize me.  
_

“Sure. You talked me into it, Martin,” said Donna. 

“Jolly good then! You’ll see how much fun it can be to let your hair down and walk on the wild side. Get ready to smile you lovey-dovey birds!” said Martin Freeman with glee as he pulled Donna and Benedict close to him and put his hand on Benedict’s thigh as the camera snapped away.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. The original after party for Creation was not held at the Natural History Museum as it is in the story. Just recently I came across that it was actually at 17 Berkeley Square. For the purposes of this story, it will remain at the museum.
> 
> 2\. The second half of this chapter took forever to write because I found Martin Freeman to be very difficult to portray. I wound up reading and watching quite a few interviews to get his sassiness right. In some interviews he rarely swore...in others...well, it was very frequently. I do adore that he is never afraid to speak his mind. 
> 
> 3\. I wanted Donna and Karon to have a truce of sorts. I feel they would need to get along for the long haul, especially once Benedict's career takes off. 
> 
> 4\. For the sake of this story, we'll pretend it is Donna in the photos with Benedict and Martin, rather than Olivia.


	115. Chapter 115

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all - I woke up today to find I've had 60000 hits! Thank you to all my loyal and lovely readers! xxxx
> 
> The morning after the Creation Premiere, Donna’s day doesn’t start out as sunny inside as it is outside due to Benedict’s dour mood. Donna gets an introduction to makeup sex from Benedict.
> 
> Warning: Bodily functions are discussed in the first part of this chapter, and there is explicit sex in the second; so be prepared or skip if easily offended. 
> 
> Note: I’ll be using *********************** to indicate things happening at the same time.

 

The following morning, Donna Saint James woke up prior to Benedict. He lay curled up on his side, facing away from her and burrowed under the covers. Donna rolled onto her back and sleepily gazed at the bedside clock, which caused her to inwardly groan.

_It’s just about five thirty, and I’m supposed to be at Carldonn by seven thirty to help out with the breakfast crowd.   I wish I could sleep until eight! I don’t know how Benedict does it the morning after these premieres and parties. I still feel exhausted; perhaps a cool shower will help clear this brain fog._

Donna shut off her alarm before it went off and sat up in bed, rubbing the crusted sleep out of her eyes. She paused to watch Benedict’s form sleeping peacefully beside her. The only thing she could see was his hair sticking out from under the comforter.

After returning to Donna’s apartment and having sex the night before, Benedict requested that she set the second alarm for ten with instructions not to wake him prior to that under any circumstances except for an emergency. They had both been exhausted by then and had fallen asleep in each other’s embrace. A low moan emitted from underneath the comforter as Benedict adjusted the covers in his sleep and sighed contentedly.

_Hmmm…I know how he does it. Benedict doesn’t have a regular schedule like I do right now so he can afford to juggle things in order to get some extra shut eye if he needs it. He said his audition isn’t until one, so that’s how he’ll get his eight hours in and still have time to go for a run along the Thames. I’d better get up and get moving before I have Carly up here banging on my door. Let’s see how things are looking outside.  
_

Donna reluctantly tossed back the covers and got out of bed. She yawned and stretched as she slipped her feet into her cow head slippers. As was her daily habit upon rising, Donna was about to go to the window to inspect the weather when she heard Benedict shift position slightly.

_I’d better be extra quiet. I don’t want to wake him by accident,_ thought Donna as she tiptoed around the bed and crossed the room directly to the window. She glanced back at Benedict as her hand brushed the drapes, searching for where the two panels met.  His body ever-so-slightly rose and fell with his even breathing. 

_I’ll just open the drapes enough so I can tell what kind of day it is…just a little bit so I can get an idea._

She parted the drapes a crack in order to look out. The sun was just beginning to rise and the sky appeared to be clear.

_How I love sunrises! This one is particularly beautiful. What a beautiful morning this will be for a walk along the Thames! I wish I had more time to take advantage of this nice fall weather before we have to set the clocks back. I’ll make it my business to persuade Carly to come along with me after we close up. We can stroll across the Millennium Bridge and go have afternoon tea at the Swan. That way we can exchange notes on how the girls are doing._

The sound of Benedict’s deep, gravely morning voice from behind caused Donna to jump. She turned to see his ginger stubble-covered face scowling at her from his nest of covers.

“It’s very rude to shine sunlight in the face of someone who’s trying to get some fucking sleep!” He rumbled. “Do you think you could close those blasted drapes or do I have to drag my bum out of bed to do it?”

_Damn! They were only open a crack - just enough so I could see what it was doing outside. If I had known that little bit of light was going to reach the bed and wake him, I never would have done that. He’s pissed and rightfully so._

Donna let the drapes fall back shut once again plunging the room into darkness.   She started to walk towards his side of the bed with the intention of giving him a good morning hug and kiss.

“I’m so sorry, Benedict. I barely had them open.”

“There was more than enough sunlight shining on my face to wake me,” he growled. “I was facing the window. Did you not even consider the possibility that the light might disturb my sleep?”

_I really didn’t think that little bit of light would rouse him._

Donna sat on the edge of the bed and reached out a hand to ruffle his hair.

“Again, for what it’s worth, Honey, I’m very, very sorry for waking you.”

“It’s not worth much.”

“I just wanted to see what the weather was…”

“Do you realize that you could have gone into the lounge where you have a whole motherfucking wall of windows in which to gaze out at the weather from? Or better still, why not turn on the telly and watch the fucking weather report – not in here though. There’s nothing worse than trying to sleep with the light from the telly in your eyes.”

_Hmmm…yes, Benedict. I know all about that one. You’re fond of doing it at night when I’m trying to sleep. Should I point out that you could go into the living room to watch TV late at night as well? Probably not when he’s in such a bad mood._

“BBC Breakfast does update the weather every ten minutes you know,” he snarled in that raspy voice.

Donna instinctively pulled her hand back and got up.

_Oh, man. He’s grumpy this morning, and it’s my fault._

Donna could make out Benedict’s form by the green glow of the bedside clock. He muttered something and turned over to face away from her, pulling the covers up around his shoulders. She heard the muffled sound of him passing gas coming from the bed.

_Martin wasn’t kidding when he suggested we stop eating those tasty little chick pea tartlets, black bean soup shooters and curried cauliflower puffs because there would be dire consequences the next day. I had gas all night from ingesting all that myself. I’ll apologize one last time._

“You’re right, Benedict; and again, I’m sorry. I’m going to shower and get ready for work now.”

“Just do it quietly then, and don’t turn the fucking lights on if you have to come back in here.”

_Hmmm…I suppose please isn’t part of the Cumberbatch morning vocabulary. I do have to come back in here for my clothes and jewelry. I’ll use that tiny flashlight I keep in my nightstand. That surely won’t wake him._

“And don’t even think of using that damn flashlight with the high-powered beam. I can sense when you turn it on even if my eyes are closed.”

_I wanted to make Benedict a special breakfast because today’s a big day for him, but he’s making it hard for me. Part of me wants to make him oatmeal so I can dump it over his head. However, it is my fault for arousing the slumbering beast; so let me try and do something to soothe him.  
_

“How about if I cook you a nice breakfast as an apology before I have to leave. What would you like?” Donna asked pleasantly.

“Silence.”

“Pardon me?”

“Bloody hell, Donna! I want for you to stop talking to me and just let me sleep!” Benedict bellowed angrily. “I have an important audition today as you bloody well know!”

Donna made her way to her dresser and felt around in the dark for her underwear.

_It’s a good thing I keep my panty and bra sets together so I know I’ll match no matter which I take_.

“What are you doing?” Benedict’s deep baritone voice resonated from the darkness. “I thought you were going to ready yourself for work. I can hear you rummaging around in your dresser drawer.”

_How in the hell did he hear me? I’ve been quiet as a mouse this time.  
_

“I’m getting my underwear if you don’t mind…”

“I _do_ mind,” he interrupted irritably. “I happen to mind a lot. I think I did say I’m trying to sleep yes? Can’t you just gather up your things and leave me be.”

“I am, Ben; but it’s difficult when the only light I’ve got to work with is coming from the clock,” said Donna, moving towards the closet.

“Motherfucking infernal clock!”

The pale green glow was suddenly gone. Donna stopped where she was.

_The bastard must have put my pillow over the clock. How in the hell am I supposed to get to the closet? Grope my way? I don’t think so._

“Please take whatever it was you put over the clock off. I can’t see where I’m going.”

“Bloody hell!”

The light reappeared.

“Thank you. Now, just give me a minute. I’m hurrying.”

Benedict fluffed his pillow and sighed heavily. “Quick as you can then.”

Donna stood in front of the closet and hesitated before opening the door. Then she turned the handle and slowly pulled it open.

_Okay, Donna, so far, so good. Now, I have to switch the closet light on in order to find anything; and I’m going to need to do it quickly.  
_

Donna looked back over her shoulder. It appeared that Benedict had turned over and was facing away from her.

_Looking good. Here goes_ _nothing…_

Donna’s hand found the switch plate, and she flicked on the switch. Bright light filled the closet and spilled out into the bedroom. She quickly entered the walk-in closet, closing the door behind her. Donna sighed with relief and perused her wardrobe.

_Mission accomplished! I’ll just grab these black pants and the pink blouse…this tweed blazer will look nice over it. What’s this on the floor that I almost tripped over? Why it’s Benedict’s jeans and t-shirt that he wore last night. What a surprise! Hahahah! I guess it was too much effort for him to hang them up or put them in the hamper. He’ll swear his intention is to bring them home with him; but I know his pattern too well by now. Hmmm…I need to get out of here. I think my black shoes with the medium heel will work. Let me get my handbag, too, while I’m in here; so I don’t have to come back and disturb him.  
_

Before Donna had a chance to gather up her things, the door to the closet swung open. A scowling Benedict came up from behind her, stood on his tiptoes and reached up towards the dropped ceiling. He unscrewed the light bulb and tossed it onto the clothes he had worn the night before, plunging them both into darkness.

“Jesus, Ben, if you wanted to make out in the closet, all you had to do was ask,” Donna giggled.

“Don’t be cheeky! Snogging is the last thing on my mind! You’ve got your bloody things; and I’ve got my darkness. Now, let me go back to sleep!” Benedict snapped.

“And how do you expect to do that in total darkness?”

“Like so!”

Donna heard what sounded like Benedict turning and promptly tripping over his discarded clothing from the night before.

“Motherfucker!” he roared from the floor. “That God damned handbag has got to go!!!”

“Are you okay, Ben? I can’t see you!”

“Stay where you are! With my luck you’ll trip over me.”

“If you hadn’t unscrewed the light bulb, this wouldn’t have happened. Are you hurt?”

“No. You put that damn bag right where I had to walk!”

“No, Benedict. My bag is to my left. You’re to my right. You lost your bearings in the darkness and fell over the clothes you wore last night and tossed in here so the clothing fairy could take care of them.”

“I had every intention of taking them home with me,” he sniffed indignantly.

_Of course you did. Just like every other time._

Donna heard Benedict grumble and swear as he groped around on the floor for the discarded light bulb. Then he picked himself up, groped his way to the door and pushed it open.  There was suddenly light spilling into the closet.

_Ah ha!  He must have turned on my bedside lamp._

Benedict strode back into the closet, screwed the light bulb back in and stomped off back to the bed, pulling the door halfway shut behind him. 

“Gather up your bloody things and be gone!” he called back over his shoulder.

The outside light from the lamp was suddenly gone.

_Why did I have to pick someone who isn’t a morning person? Mom and Dad are always so pleasant in the morning…even Carly and Steven…and Kenny has always been up at the crack of dawn full of smiles ready to start the day. This is hard to get used to._

“If I knew that you were such a cranky bastard in the mornings, I’d have thought twice about dating you!” muttered Donna as she made her way towards the doorway leading to the hallway.

“I wouldn’t be cranky if you had enough common sense to check out the weather in another room so I could get my eight hours of rest! That was very inconsiderate of you, _Sweetheart_.”

_And there’s the snotty version of Sweetheart. Benedict is right about needing a solid eight hours of sleep. He is a nasty piece of work if he doesn’t get those eight hours. I need to stop this before it escalates. I’m in the wrong, and I need to apologize again. Then maybe he’ll settle down back to sleep._

“Okay. You’re right, Benedict. I really am sorry.”

“I’m always right,” he grumbled, fluffing the pillow and slamming it back down onto the bed.

_He’s always right? Oh, I beg to differ on that one; but if I open my mouth, it will only lead to a round of ‘Benedict Shall Always Have the Last Word Game’, which I don’t want to play with him this morning. I’m going to chalk that snide remark off to another bout of the Benedict Morning Blues._

“Now go and leave me in peace.”

“I’m going.” _I can’t get out of here fast enough._

“And close the door on your way out. The light in the hallway will keep me awake – not to mention the noise from the loo.”

“I promise to shower quickly.”

“I also mean when you use the toilet. I don’t need to hear _that_.”

_That what??? What the fuck is he talking about??? Is he crazy? The sound-proofing in this apartment is great!_

“Um…I think you’re confusing your own bodily functions with mine. I don’t keep the door open or walk in on people whenever I have to pee.”

_Unlike you, who are not shy about sashaying into the bathroom and whipping your dick out right in front of me to relieve yourself.  
_

“Of course you don’t, bless you,” Benedict snickered from under the covers. “I’ll never understand what the big fuss is about. We’ve seen each other naked for months now. Nothing should come as a surprise to you at this point.”

“Some bodily functions are best done in private…like passing gas.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a firm believer in pooing in private.”

“Oh, I have; and I thank my lucky stars for you sense of modesty! Otherwise, I’d have to draw the line at that.”

“I keep forgetting how perfect you are. I suppose you’re going to tell me that you have never, _ever_ farted in my presence.”

“That’s right.”

“HA!” came a guffaw from under the covers.

_Ha?  
_

“I always try and be considerate and leave the room.”

Benedict poked his head out from underneath the covers and laughed out loud. “Not when you’re asleep you’re not. The next time I’ll be sure to wake you so you can smell the results.”

_My God. I wish he hadn’t told me that. That’s going to pray on my mind now, neurotic person that I am._

“I’m so sorry, Ben. I’m beyond mortified right now.”

“Stop apologizing for fucks sake, Donna! We can’t help what our bodies do once we’re asleep, speaking of which, I reeeeeaaallly need you to go away and go away quickly so I can go back to sleep!”

_He’s starting to whine. I’m not going to stand here and listen to that – even if I am in the wrong. Please is definitely not part of his morning vocabulary. It’s best to leave him alone when he’s like this._

 

 

When a pajama-clad Benedict ventured into the lounge four hours later, he found Donna standing at the dining room table, busy arranging the bouquet of pink cabbage roses that had obviously been delivered earlier. Her back was to him, and she was humming a tune he didn’t recognize. He noted that she was all dressed for work, and her handbag sat on the table by her elbow, alongside a coat.

_What is she still doing here? She should have been gone a couple of hours ago. I see my flowers have been delivered. They do look smashing in my Waterford vase, if I must say so myself. That vase was worth every quid I haven’t paid for yet. Donna doesn’t appear to be angry with me. She should be after the way I behaved. Where are the long-stemmed yellow roses I ordered? Oh, there they are in the cow vase over on the breakfast bar. Hmmm…is that coffee I smell? I could really use a cuppa.  
_

Benedict spied a large, steaming mug of Kona coffee that Donna had obviously just poured for him sitting on the breakfast bar. Next to it was a plate of freshly-baked corn muffins. There was small piece of lavender notepaper, covered in Donna’s elaborate cursive handwriting set on the serviette, which was folded like a fan. He picked it up and read it:

**Morning! I heard you moving about and figured you’re up for the day, so I took the liberty of making you breakfast even though you weren’t keen on the idea. Carly left a message on my cellphone saying that she was so tired from last night that she couldn’t get up; so we’re meeting at Carldonn at nine, and Kelsey is going to help out with breakfast.  
**

_Christ! She still went out of her way to make me breakfast even after my display of temper. Olivia would have told me to go fuck myself. Donna rarely does. However, that wouldn’t have happened in the first place because Liv loved to sleep in as well. We were better suited when it came to going to bed and getting up…possibly because of our common profession._ **  
**

**Sadly, I was all out of silence, so you’ll have to settle for corn muffins instead.**

Benedict looked over at the oblivious Donna and shook his head while he stifled a yawn. The jab had pained him to read.

_Very cheeky, Donna. Not that I didn’t deserve that…she’s obviously not happy with me.  
_

**I’d normally bring you your coffee, but since you wanted to be left alone I’m doing just that. I’ll be gone by the time you read this.  
**

_That means Donna doesn’t wish to speak to me. She is angry. I chased her away because I was irritated at being woken. I should have just held my temper and gone back to sleep; but I had to open my big mouth. Not one of my better qualities. I also don’t fancy being called out on it. This isn’t the first time that I’ve lashed out at her for inadvertently waking me. I also hate the way she manages to work it into the note. I feel like a complete and utter shit._ **  
**

**Thank you for the flowers, which are beautiful as always. They truly make me smile whenever I look at them in your vases, which were chosen with such care and love.** **I’m a lucky woman to have such a thoughtful and generous man in my life!  
**

Benedict felt a twinge of guilt as his stomach knotted while he silently berated himself.

_Christ, how I wish she hadn’t written that. Now, I feel guilty as fuck…and I should. I’m utterly ashamed of myself. I have to find a way to make it up to her. Maybe I’ll book us an extravagant dinner, and we can take in a show or go dancing afterwards. Then we can stay overnight at one of the luxury hotels in central London. I recall Jimmy saying that the Mayfair had a special package with dinner at Quince, a deluxe room and breakfast in bed._

**Have a great day and good luck on your audition! I know you’re going to get the part! Call me as soon as you’re done.  
**

**Love,**

**Donna xxxxxxxx**

_Could this note have been any nicer and more heartfelt? I can be such a tit at times. I don’t deserve her._

“For fucks sake, Donna! How can you find it in your heart to write me such a loving note after I treated you like rubbish before?” Benedict blurted out in exasperation as he blinked back the tears that threatened to form in his eyes.

Donna turned around and regarded him with genuine concern. His tear-filled eyes looked pale green in the sunlight that flooded the room.

“Are you okay? You look very upset.”

“I am,” he replied in a hoarse voice. “I never should have spoken to you like that.”

“You were half asleep. It was inconsiderate of me to open the drapes. You were right. I need to come in here to check on the weather when you’re still sleeping. I promise it won’t happen again.”

Benedict wiped his eyes and cleared his throat. “You shouldn’t be apologizing to me, Donna! I was the one who started it. I need to learn to control my damn big mouth in the morning. I don’t know what gets into me. I so hate getting up if I don’t have my eight hours. I’ve always been like that. Mum will tell you.”

_No need for that. Wanda has already told me in great detail about your morning stropiness, as she calls it. Not to mention that I’ve gotten to witness it firsthand several times – and I don’t have to open a light for it to happen. Just the process of having to get up without a full eight hours sets him off and puts him in a bad mood. I wish he’d just let it drop already. It’s not worth arguing over. Benedict needs to be left alone in the morning. Period. If he chooses to engage me in conversation, fine. If not, that’s fine, too._

Donna took one final look at her arrangement. Satisfied, she carried it into the lounge area and placed it on the desk. Benedict stared at her back, mouth agape.

_Why is she not saying anything? No dressing down…no agreeing with me. Nothing? That’s infuriating! I seem to be having a one-sided domestic this morning. If we’re going to have one, let’s have it!  
_

“Aren’t you going to say anything?” Benedict demanded.

Donna turned and shrugged. “There’s nothing to say. That’s your nature in the morning, Ben; and you can’t change how you are any more than I can change how I am. I’m a morning person. I bound out of bed, ready and anxious to start the day early, because I’m always afraid I’m going to miss something. Then I’m ready to conk out by ten. You’re more nocturnal, require more sleep than I do and prefer a slower start to your day. I disturbed your rest, and you had every right to be pissed off.”

“I could have expressed it a bit more eloquently than I did.”

“True. You could have stuck a ‘please’ in front of your commands before barking them out.”

“I’m so, so sorry, Donna. I truly am.”

“Apology accepted. I’ll make it my business to stop looking out the window unless you’re up, and you can work on being a bit more pleasant in the morning. So, let’s forget it now, okay?”

“Fine.”

Donna held her arms open to him. “I want my morning hug and kiss, please.”

Benedict’s face split into an excited smile. He reminded her of a happy puppy.

_I’m forgiven! Thank God!_

_If he were a puppy, he’d be wagging his tail._

“My pleasure,” said Benedict as he quickly crossed the room and enveloped Donna in his arms. He kissed her deeply, tongue probing her mouth. She found herself reciprocating as she tangled her fingers in his hair, gently tugging at his follicles while their tongues swirled around each other.

_He brushed his teeth before he came in here. Good boy._

They both broke the kiss and took a deep breath.

“Oh, Miss Saint James, you really know how to turn me on,” Benedict said in a low voice, his ice blue eyes boring into hers. “I wish you didn’t have to go to work or I’d take you right back to bed and have my way with you.”

Donna sighed. “You’re really making it tough to leave.”

“That’s the point,” he smiled devilishly at her. “How am I doing?”

“Too good, but we wouldn’t get very far. Carly will come up here and bang on the door.”

_Besides it’s Emily and Heather’s first day of training. I should be there to welcome them. I think I’ll stop by the florist on the way and buy them each a small bouquet to make them feel at home. Though knowing Heather, she’d probably prefer something that she can stuff in her face. God, I sure as heck hope we’re not making a mistake in hiring her. I know all her credentials are superb and the recommendation letters from her professors were all positive…but still…I’ve seen what she can be like._

Benedict glanced at the clock. “If we skip the foreplay, we can be done in under ten minutes.”

“Um…I think you would have noticed by now that we can’t skip the foreplay or is this all about your pleasure this morning?”

“Of course not; but there have been times when you didn’t require that much to be ready for me.”

“True…but…”

“I think we need to see if this is one of those times then!”

Donna squealed as Benedict picked her up bridal-style and carried her over towards the couch. He lay her down and unbuttoned his sleep pants as he straddled her. His eyes were full of lust as he pulled her blouse out of her trousers and unbuttoned it. He spread it apart so he could admire her breasts through the flimsy pale pink see-through bra. Donna reached inside his sleep pants and gave his already engorged penis a couple of strokes through the soft cotton of his briefs.

“Hmmm…I feel a wet spot already, Ben Honey.”

“Keep calling me that and you’ll have more than a wet spot to contend with.”

“You’re very horny this morning.”

“And you’re not? I’m willing to bet that I find damp knickers under those trousers. Am I right?”

“You’ll have to find out for yourself.”

“And so I shall. Lift your head please.”

Donna lifted her head and felt him thrust one of the throw pillows under it. Next he leaned down to give her a searing kiss as his fingers unbuttoned the waistband of her trousers and unzipped them in order to shove his hand down between her legs. He cupped her vulva and found her clit with his index finger, circling it slowly which caused maddening ripples of pleasure to course through Donna.

“Oooh, Ben…that feels amazing. I feel like I’m going to come soon. Oh my…oh my.”

_I squealed like a teenager before. Jesus Christ. What’s wrong with me? I want him so bad – that’s what’s wrong with me. I want him to fuck my brains out on this couch and the hell with Carly and the intern training. She’ll be so angry with me though. This was a bad idea to encourage him._

“Ummm… I did promise Carly that I would be there to help train our new employees.”

Benedict’s response was to apply more pressure and rub her clit faster as he leaned down to cover her cleavage with kisses. He smiled to himself as he felt her involuntarily arch her back in order to grind against his hand.

“Emmy’s very knowledgeable. She can practically train herself. Heather just requires a muzzle and unending supply of nibbles,” he murmured.

“I think we need to control ourselves so I can leave, Ben Honey.”

Benedict felt Donna cup his balls through his briefs and squeeze very gently, causing him to moan. He could feel her fingernails graze lightly over the material causing him to shudder.

“I’m not so sure about that. I think you lie,” he gasped. “You’re lavishing such heavenly attention upon my balls, and you just called me Ben Honey. You damn well know what that does to me…those words go straight to my knob. I’m getting so fucking hard, I can’t stand it. I think you want to stay and for me to continue. I think you want me to lick your beautiful cunt until you scream.”

“Umm…um…Carly’s going to come…”

“I don’t give two fucks if Carly comes or not. That’s Steve’s problem! I only care if _you_ come!”

“That’s not what I meant wise ass!”

Benedict quickly removed his hand from Donna’s trousers and pushed her bra up over her breasts. Her nipples hardened further upon contact with the cool air in the room. Benedict paused to lick and suck each one as Donna felt her toes curling from the exquisite pleasure he was causing. Suddenly, he stopped and leaned back.

“I need you to sit up a bit, Donna.”

“Why?”

“I need to unhook your bra.”

“Please don’t,” Donna protested weakly as she raised her torso, granting him access to her.

“I like it when you’re so cooperative,” Benedict purred. “It makes my job that much easier.”

“We really should stop now.”

“Stop making a fuss, Darling. We’re trying to be quick about this; so I’ll need you to lie back, relax and enjoy.”

“You should have been a salesman. You’re very persuasive.”

“Perhaps I was in another life,” he chuckled.

Benedict helped her out of her blouse, then reached around in order to unhook her bra so he could lean down to suck her already-hardened nipples and tease them with the tip of his warm tongue.

“Have I told you that I love it when you use your tongue like that?”

“Yes, and I love it when you tell me. Positive reinforcement goes a long way,” he replied, pushing his throbbing cock against her hand.

“Oh, my God….Ohhhhhhhhhh…..Ben Honey…sooooooooo good!”

_Christ! How I love it when she moans like that! I love knowing that I can elicit that kind of reaction from her._

“Erm…I wouldn’t mind if you lavished some attention on my foreskin.”

“Carly could be coming up here at this moment!”

“I’m more interested in making us come as quickly as possible. Could you please stop worrying about Carly and touch me for fucks sake?”

“She won’t wait long in the lobby.”

“I don’t give a shit. Besides they always have the morning papers down there.  She can catch up on her reading. Now, touch me damn it!”

Donna found her fingers had a mind of their own as they made their way through the opening in his briefs and gently massaged Benedict’s retracted foreskin. She felt him stiffen further and more drops of warm semen dripped down his shaft.

_As much as I'm enjoying this, I do have responsibilities.  I know. I’ll distract him with food. He can never refuse my baked goods._

“Ben, why don’t you have a muffin while they’re still warm.”

“Yes, that’s the idea,” Benedict said in a husky voice as he pulled off her trousers along with her panties down around her knees. “I adore your nice, warm muff and all its hidden treasures.”

Benedict leaned down and buried his nose in her neatly trimmed pubic hair. Donna then felt his tongue probing for her clit. He smiled smugly when he heard her loud moan of pleasure and felt her tugging at his hair follicles as he licked her slowly and deliberately. His deep voice caused chills up and down her spine.

“Yesssss…nice and warm…and wet…very…very wet. I thought you needed time…your pretty, lacy knickers are all wet you know. You’ll have to change them.”

“I can’t believe how horny I am.”

“I can,” he said pushing two fingers gently into her vagina and pulling them out slowly. Benedict rose up on his knees and licked the juices off. Then he winked and smiled seductively at her. “This is all the breakfast I need. Do you want more? I know I do…I find I’ve quite the appetite this morning.”

_That’s it! The hell with the training! I want him, and I want him NOW! I don’t care about Carldonn right now. I need to get laid in the worst way._

“Oh, God, yes!”

"I knew you'd come around to my way of thinking, and now I'm going to reward you, my Darling."

Before Benedict could settle himself down between her legs, Donna had reached up and tugged his pajama bottoms and boxer briefs down around his slender hips giving her access to his erect penis and swollen balls.

“You started without me,” she pouted, flicking the end of his hardened, red cock.

“Well, I thought that was rather obvious yes?” snickered Benedict.

“Un huh. I’d say it’s _very_ obvious now.” Donna wrapped her hand around his shaft and moved her hand up and down, stopping to give a twist to his glans before moving downwards and starting all over again. She could see his face contorted in passion.  He deftly moved his fingers in and out of her vagina causing her to moan loudly, her thighs were beginning to shake, and she could feel that her orgasm was imminent.

“Fuck! Not too much touching or I’ll come all over Mario’s ultra-suede couch or whatever motherfucking kind of material this is.”

“We can’t have that!” cringed Donna in horror. “I could never explain it....and it is ultra-suede.”

“Well, you could; but then he’d know what an insatiable, sexy woman you are.”

“We have to be careful not to get anything on the couch.”

“Oh, for fucks sake, but you make a good point. Here. This will work.”

Benedict grabbed the throw they normally used to snuggle under when watching television and shoved it underneath Donna.

“Hey! My Nona crocheted this throw for me!” Donna exclaimed in horror. “I can’t get that soiled with semen and...”

_I never knew her Gran made that for her. I thought it came with the flat._

“No, we can’t; so I’ll just make sure to come inside you...unless you still are concerned. I can always stop if you really want to.”

“You don’t want to stop any more than I do!”

“Who said I want to stop?”

“Then how about you kiss me before you fuck me.”

“If there’s one thing I am, it’s obedient!”

Benedict leered at her from above and leaned in for a wet, sloppy kiss. He sucked her tongue and gyrated his hips against her swollen mound. Donna could feel wetness on the tip of his penis as he rubbed it against her vulva.

“You know what I want, Ben!”

He immediately shifted so he could rub himself against her clitoris, causing her to squirm. He raised himself up on his knees and pulled his t-shirt off, tossing it onto the floor. Donna felt her trousers and panties being removed and then tossed haphazardly into the air. He then kicked off his pajama bottoms and pants and added them to the discarded clothing that littered the floor.

“That’s much better. I hate barriers, don’t you, Darling?”

“Yes! What can I do to make you feel good, Ben Honey? Tell me what you’d like.”

“My balls fancy some attention if you don’t mind.”

Benedict sucked in his breath and hissed as Donna cupped his scrotum and gently squeezed and massaged it the way he liked it.

“I also love to watch you touch me,” he gasped as he breathing became faster and heavier.

“Speaking of watching, do you realize these windows have no covering on them? Anyone can see us!”

“And that’s what makes this so thrilling!” exclaimed Benedict in his deep, seductive voice that he often used in bed. “The added anticipation of being caught…especially by your sister...makes it all the more forbidden yes? Don’t deny that this isn’t just a little bit more exciting to be out here in the open like this.”

Benedict moved his hand in between her legs and gently rubbed her swollen, throbbing nub in a circular motion. Then he paused briefly as she once again took him in hand and began to rub vigourously. Donna urgently tapped his hand to resume what he had been doing.

“Faster, please!”

“Erm…but you seem to be enjoying the slow build up.”

“Oh, God, oh God, oh God!   I hate when you tease me like this.”

“No, you don’t,” he sneered. “You fucking love it.”

Donna reached around to squeeze his bare bottom and kneaded it.

“Erm…a little less enthusiasm please. I have to go to an audition later.”

“Are you planning on auditioning in the nude?”

“NO! I need to be inside you NOW!” he panted as a surge of pleasure threatened to engulf him in a climax.

Donna suddenly pushed him back, sat up and looked over her shoulder while covering her naked breasts with her arms.

“What if someone has a telescope and is watching us right now?”

“Then I’d say they’re getting quite the eyeful, which I am not getting right now. On your back please, and spread those beautiful legs for me. Unless you fancy being on top this time.”

“Benedict! I’m serious! Marco has a telescope over by the desk. I’ve used it to…”

Benedict sat back on his heels and regarded her with a sly smile. “You used it to what?”

“Star gaze.”

Benedict nearly choked on his laughter. “Are you fucking shitting me?”

“No. I’m not,” insisted Donna indignantly.

_Just that one time when I was looking at the apartments across the river, but you don’t need to know about that. On second thought, he would have been fighting me for the telescope being how nosy he is._

Benedict fixed her with a look. “Come now.”

“Not without stimulation I won’t.”

“I thought you were worried about all the people in the flats across the Thames watching us through their high-powered telescopes.”

“I just wish I knew whether we really were being watched.”

“Shall I go have a look through Marco’s telescope so everyone can see me stood at the windows with my raging boner then?”

“Ummm…it’s not so raging at the moment.”

Benedict raised his eyes to the heavens and huffed in annoyance. “That’s quite enough! No one’s watching us for fucks sake, and if they are they’re obviously bored; so let’s give them something to watch!”

“Ben! Oooofffff!”

And with that he pushed Donna back down against the couch and began to ravish her with hot, wet, passionate kisses as his hands roamed freely over her body, massaging and caressing all her pleasure points until she cried out and begged for him to enter her.

“Ben, please…I fucking love what you’re doing.”

“I fucking love that you love what I’m doing because I’m aching to be inside you.”

“I want you inside me now!”

She felt him fumble and try to position himself as quickly as he could at her entrance.

“I’m happy to oblige. I just need you to take me in hand, and I’ll do the rest,” he flashed an impish smile.

“Wait!”

_Blimey! Did she just tell me to wait? I’m just about at the point of no return, and she wants me to hold off? For something that was only going to take ten minutes, we’re making a right meal of it._

“What?” he groaned.

“I just need something from you first…I need you…”

“Oh, fuck me. Don’t tell me you want me to go get the lube _now_!”

“Not at all. I was just going to ask you to put one of the pillows under my butt, so I can climax with you inside me.”

“Aren’t you afraid of soiling Marco’s pillows?”

“Put it under Nona’s throw.”

He grabbed one of the pillows and shoved it underneath her as he felt Donna massage his penis in order to maintain his erection.

_Christ on a crutch! That rubbing is about to be my undoing! Fuck that feels incredible. Did I not just tell her I’m primed and ready?_

“I need to be inside you now, Donna!” Benedict gasped as he moved forward. “I can’t hold out much longer,” he croaked in a husky voice. The pleasant tingles had begun at the base of his spine signaling his impending climax.

Donna took him in hand and guided him inside her. He slowly and carefully entered her, making sure she was comfortable.

“Are you okay?”

“Yesssss…I love the way you feel inside me…such a nice, full feeling. I love you, Ben Honey.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down so she could kiss him.

“And I love being inside you…so soft and moist…I love when we’re one like this,” Benedict sighed as he began to thrust, making sure to graze the tip of his penis along her clit with each steady stroke.

Donna found it especially exciting to watch him moving inside her and felt her passion quickly mounting with ever thrust as she raised her hips against his. Soon both of them were perspiring and panting. Benedict’s face was contorted in passion as he grunted above her, his thrusting becoming quicker and harder as he neared his climax.

“I’m close, Ben! Don’t stop what you’re doing!”

He looked down at where they were joined and felt himself about to be overcome with raw emotion.

_I shouldn’t do this. It chokes me up every time, and this is not the time for me to get all soppy. I need to concentrate on making her come rather than this overwhelming love I’m feeling for her._

“Put your ankles over my shoulders,” he barked whilst balancing himself with one hand and tugging at her left calf with the other.

_I’m just about there…if he changes the angle and I lose it, I’m going to kill him! This feels amazing as it is...  
_

He grabbed her right calf and lifted it.

“Benedict! Whooooooaaaaaaaaa!”

_And this feels even better.  
_

Donna closed her eyes tightly and allowed the orgasmic sensations wash over her as Benedict continued to thrust for all he was worth. Suddenly, she heard him gasp and groan loudly as he gripped the side of the couch. He buried his face against her neck while he emptied his seed into her vagina.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck. I love you, my Donna…I fucking love you so much.”

_Shit! I didn’t feel her muscles contract around me. She hasn’t come yet! I was selfish to have taken my pleasure first! Damn it!_

_Arrgggghhhhh!!!! Just when I was about to come, and he beat me to it this time._

Benedict had the presence of mind not to drop his weight onto her as he struggled to haul himself out of his blissful state and bring Donna to climax.

“I’m going to take care of you, Darling. Hold still.”

Donna felt him rub her clit in between his thumb and index until her orgasm began to build again. Then he quickened his movements and applied pressure causing her to grip his hand tightly. Her whole body was trembling, and she felt as if she would explode.

“It’s too intense!” Donna gasped as her orgasm began. “I don’t want it to hurt!”

“It won’t hurt. I promise. Ride it out. Just like you always tell me to. Enjoy it…let go for fucks sake!”

“Hold me, Benedict!!! Tight!”

He pulled her against him with his free arm as he continued to stroke with his other hand. He could feel her wetness increase as her body shook from the tremours. Donna’s eyes were tightly closed and her lips slightly parted as she panted and gasped.

“I will. I’m right here…just let loose and stop thinking!”

_Ahhhhhhh…I don’t want this to end…soooooooooooooo damn good!_

Donna fell back against the small pillow, breathing hard. She opened her eyes as her orgasm finally subsided. Benedict was sat back on his heels, erection gone, with a dreamy look on his handsome face. She reached up and stroked his cheek.

“I love you, you know.”

“Yes, I do; but I love to hear you say it.”

“I love you very much, Benedict.”

“It was good yes?”

“Very! You’ve been nothing but right all morning.”

“I adore makeup sex. There’s nothing quite like it,” sighed Benedict happily, sitting back so Donna could get up and sit beside him. He gathered the knitted throw about them and snuggled close to her.

Donna pondered his words as they exchanged soft, gentle kisses. “So, that was makeup sex.”

Benedict nodded. “Yeah. What do you think?”

“I think we may need to fight more often.”

 

 

After sharing a quick shower and donning their clothes, Benedict made his way to the breakfast bar and hopped up onto the high chair. He took a sip of the reheated coffee, which was prepared exactly as he liked it. He studied the golden yellow muffins that were arranged on a white china plate adorned with violets.

“When did you have time to bake muffins?” he asked Donna, who was tucking her blouse back inside her trousers.

“You forget. I’m a master at multitasking. By the way, did you happen to see what happened to my panties? I last recall seeing them flying through the air with my trousers.”

“Erm…try under the couch. I seem to recall kicking something out of my way when we got up to shower.”

Donna walked over to the couch and bent down to look underneath. “Yep. Here they are.” She fished them out and ran down the hallway to put them in the hamper. “It’s a good thing I remembered to look for them. I can’t imagine trying to explain that to Carly.”

“Does your sister always make it a habit of looking underneath your couch when she comes over?”

Donna giggled. “No, I just didn’t want to leave them there to age – if you know what I mean.”

_Yes, Love, I know only too well. One becomes very familiar with the odour emanating from soiled clothes that have been forgotten about. That reminds me… I think I’d better check my wardrobe when I go home tonight._

Benedict blushed and giggled. “Erm…yes, I do know what you mean; but I thought you meant that Carly would notice the smell of sex lingering in the room.”

Donna paused and took a deep breath. “Oh my God! Do you really smell anything? I only smell coffee and corn muffins.”

Benedict put down his beaker and sniffed at the air. “I don’t smell anything but your perfume.”

“Good,” Donna breathed with relief. “I really miss my perfume from Takashimiya,” she said sadly.

“So do I,” agreed Benedict. “It’s such a lovely scent on you.”

_And my friend at Penhaligon swears he can recreate it, should Donna not be able to replenish it one day._   

“It’s too bad I can only buy it in New York,” lamented Donna.

“You can buy some whilst you’re there busy celebrating your birthday and Thanksgiving.”

“I wish you could come and have Thanksgiving dinner with us.”

_No worries on that point, as I plan to be there – provided you accept my marriage proposal and your parents invite me. I really should get onto Skype one night and call her parents to let them know I’m coming over to surprise Donna on her birthday. Then once I arrive, I’ll arrange to meet with them and tell them of my plans. Hahaha! I can’t wait to see their faces when I tell them I plan to propose!_

“New York is a long way to go just to have dinner, Love.”

_God help me. I can just see myself sat at the Saint James Thanksgiving table with Neil presiding over the meal. I wonder if he can carve a turkey with as much flare as Dad can? That should prove to be a most memorable meal on so many levels._

Donna rounded the breakfast bar and checked the stick of butter that she had set out.   “It’s perfect spreading temperature.”

“Do you and Carly have any special plans for your birthday?”

“Not that we’ve discussed. We’ve been so busy getting ready to work on _Dr. Who_ next season.”

“New York’s a very exciting city. I’m sure you’ll have no trouble finding something interesting to do.”

“I hate that we’re going to be apart on my birthday!”

“So do I, Darling; but you’ll be so busy shopping and feasting and having proper catchups with your family and friends that you’ll forget all about me.”

“Never!” protested Donna, refilling his mug with coffee. “I’ll be thinking about you all the time and all the fun we could have had. Are you sure you can’t find a way to convince the Van Gogh director that you need a long weekend in New York?”

“No, I can’t. Besides, it’s rather pricey to fly over the pond just for a long weekend, Donna; and the producers sure as shit aren’t going to pay my airfare.”

_What you also don’t know is that the film is scheduled to wrap earlier than I originally told you; so my calendar is already clear. I’ll just do pickups when I get back if needed. I hate that she looks so miserable though. I’d love to tell her but that would spoil the surprise.  
_

“You’re fortunate that the Tribune is paying for your airfare, hotel, meals and other expenses,” pointed out Benedict, as he split open a muffin and slathered it with butter. “By the way do you have any raspberry jam?”

Donna went to the refrigerator. “Yep. You’re in luck.” She brought the jar over to him. “I don’t need a hotel. I’ve got my apartment in the townhouse.”

“Your flat is in your parents’ home, yes?”

“Nope. I thought I told you. Carly and I have apartments in the same townhouse, which is uptown from our parents. I couldn’t even imagine still living with them at this point in my life!” she laughed.

_Shame on me. She did tell me. My mind is a bloody sieve lately. I’ve got too much on my plate. It’s got to be pricey to live in that area of town.  
_

“It would have been so much fun if you could have been there to help Carly and I celebrate our birthday. Every year we celebrate together. I know that Steve will have something special planned for this year.”

_Yes, he does; but this will be the first year that you and Carly won’t be celebrating together. You’ll be spending the day with me and getting engaged.  You and Carly can have your celebration a day late. Steve’s assistance in helping me put my plan into action has been indispensable, bless him. I owe the bloke a huge favour.  
_

“Oh, I’m sure you and Carly will be having an extra special celebration since you’re both turning thirty. I’m willing to bet there will be several parties and activities planned.”

“I won’t be partying all the time, Benedict. I’ll also be working, don’t forget. That’s the real reason I’m going.”

_And making all these marriage proposal plans is also hard work. Her uncle should be getting back to me with the photo of the setting; so I can approve it. Then they can start setting the diamonds. I can’t wait to see Donna’s face when I ask her and present her with the ring,_ smiled Benedict to himself. _That reminds me,_ _I need to tell Mum and Dad about my plans. I know they are going to be utterly over the moon._

“Do you _really_ have to leave now, Donna? Are you sure you don’t have time for a cup of tea with me? I’ll even brew you a pot of English Breakfast – decaffeinated, of course,” said Benedict hoping to tempt her into keeping him company. “I can even make you a cup of your regular tea if you prefer.” He smiled at her and crinkled his nose.

_Why? Oh why does he have to do that damn adorable nose crinkle and lopsided smile? Because he knows I’m such a pushover for it. I have to be strong though. I don’t want to irritate Carly. She gave us extra time to get ready as is._

“I was supposed to meet Carly downstairs in the lobby fifteen minutes ago,” said Donna with dread as she glanced at the kitchen clock. “She’s going to have my head.”

The doorbell rang. Benedict looked at her. “Expecting anyone in the building?”

Donna rushed to answer it. “Yes and no. It’s probably Carly here to drag me out by my hair.” She peered through the peephole to see Andrew Scott smiling back at her. He was barefoot and dressed in a pair of red and white-striped pajamas.

“Good morning, Andrew! Come in,” said Donna cheerily, standing back so Andrew could enter the apartment. “You look just like a candy cane!”

Andrew smiled shyly at her. “As long as you tell me I’m as sweet as one, Darlin’.”

“Absolutely!” gushed Donna, kissing him on the cheek. “I was just on my way out to meet Carly downstairs, but Ben’s here.” She returned to the couch and began to put on her shoes and jacket.

Andrew waved to Benedict, who returned the wave. “Morning Ben! I’m not disturbing you, am I? If I am, I’ll be on my way.”

“No, not at all. Join me for a coffee and some muffins,” offered a pajama-clad Benedict, getting up to get Andrew a beaker and a plate. “We can have a proper catch up.”

“How exciting! It’s like having a pajama party but only in the morning and without the booze,” Laughed Andrew. “Besides I could never pass up Donna’s corn muffins,” he added, taking a seat at the counter whilst Benedict retrieved an empty beaker, filled it with coffee and set it before him. “Thanks, Ben.”

“I could mix us up a Mimosa,” offered Benedict.

“Oh, no! It’s too early in the morning for me,” giggled Andrew. “Tempting though.”

“So, are you here on official business, or did you decide to come over on chance that I might be here because you miss and fancy my company?” teased Benedict.

“It’s all of the above, actually. However, I primarily wanted to check in and see how last night went. I wish I could have gone, but I didn’t think it was a good idea to call in sick – even though my understudy would have been thrilled as fuck to get a chance to fill in for me. He keeps asking after my health, which makes me very suspicious. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he’s secretly hoping I fall under the weather.”

“I wouldn’t doubt it,” remarked Benedict. “It's bloody frustrating to be an understudy and not get at least one chance to take the lead’s place.”

“Make sure you take extra vitamin C and get enough rest,” suggested Donna, taking a quick inventory of the contents of her handbag before leaving.

“I definitely do what I can to take care of myself when I’m in a play,” said Andrew. “Enough about understudies – as you were, Darlin’. I want to hear about the premiere.”

“It was an interesting, fun and nerve-wracking experience all at the same time,” replied Donna.

“And that was only the sex,” quipped Benedict, as he sipped his coffee. His ice blue eyes met Donna’s over the rim of his beaker, and he smiled smugly at her.

_My honey loves to let people know he’s getting laid regularly._

Donna rolled her eyes. “Don’t pay him any mind, Andrew. Ben loves to tease.”

“I normally don’t,” snickered Andrew, reaching for a muffin. “I love the little kernels of corn that you fold into the batter. My mum made these a couple of times; but they were always dry. When do you find the time to do all this, Darlin’? I can barely find time to make myself a cuppa most mornings and here you are baking all these lovely muffins and pastries from scratch.”

“It’s simple. I had the dry ingredients pre-measured in a container. Then all I had to do was add the wet ingredients, mix and fill the paper muffin cups. They were busy baking off while I was in the shower.”

“You’re one lucky chap, Ben,” said Andrew, peeling the paper cup off the muffin and taking a bite. “Mmmmm. These are so much tastier than porridge.”

“I’m well aware,” agreed Benedict, smiling at Donna. "There's nothing tastier than a warm, tender muffin in the morning." He winked at her.

"I frankly hate porridge. When I as a small, I did a commercial for Flahavan’s porridge, and I had to eat the shit during several takes.  It was bloody awful, and I despise it to this day.  Stephen adores it - he eats it plain, with dried fruit and nuts.  Ugh!  I'd much prefer a nice muffin to sink my teeth into."

"As do I," said Benedict, licking his lips as he crinkled his nose at Donna and gave her a cheeky grin.

Once again, the doorbell rang. “And this will assuredly be Carly coming to get me,” sighed Donna, going to the door. As she suspected, there stood her sister wearing a scowl on her pretty face.

“I’ve been calling your landline for the past two hours and your cellphone is still turned off!” scolded Carly.

“Crap. I must have turned off my cell by accident. I did turn it on to get your message earlier. What do you mean about the landline?”

“I kept getting a busy signal.”

“Damn! I guess I need to call the phone company for service,” said Donna, taking her cellphone out of her handbag and turning it back on. “Ben, could you please place a service call for me so we can get going? I’ll get you a copy of the last bill with the account number on it. If they have to come over, tell them I’ll be here anytime after three-thirty. I really appreciate it, Honey.”

As Donna turned to go to the desk, she noticed that Benedict suddenly began to fidget and rubbed the back of his neck.

_Hmmm…someone looks guilty as hell. If he took that friggin’ phone off the hook again, I’m going to deck him! I’ve asked him several times not to do that when he sleeps over here. Somebody in New York may need to reach me in an emergency._

_Oh, Christ. There’s nothing wrong with the bloody phone. I only took it off the hook right before I went into the lounge to apologize to Donna and initiate that fine make up sex._  

“Erm…There’s no need for me to ring for a service call. The phone service is fine,” began Benedict hesitantly. “I took it off the hook this morning before we had…erm…well you know…before we got busy with…well, you know how it is sometimes when you want to be assured of privacy.” He paused to gauge Carly’s reaction, which was one of bemusement.

“Ben, I haven’t a clue as to what you’re getting at,” laughed Carly.

Andrew snorted and covered his mouth with his hand. Then he picked up his beaker and drank some coffee.

_Great! Andrew knows exactly what Benedict is referring to, and my sister is pretending that she doesn’t when I know she does._ _He must have done it after I left the room to shower and get dressed._

“You’ve got to stop doing that, Benedict!” exclaimed a frustrated Donna.

“Donna’s asked me time and again not to take her phone off the hook whenever I’m here; but it’s been a hard habit to break,” Benedict explained to Carly and Andrew. “I did manage to last until morning this time.” He gave Donna a half-hearted smile.

“What if there were an emergency overseas or Carly needed to reach me in a hurry?” demanded Donna, arms crossed.

“I’m sure they would have contacted Carly, and she would have just come upstairs then in either case – wouldn’t you have, Carly?” Benedict asked hopefully.

“Of course, that’s exactly what I would have done.”

_See, there was no reason for Donna to get her knickers in a twist. There was no emergency, and her sister isn’t angry with me, bless her. I must remember to send Carly flowers on their mutual birthday._

“Sorry, Carly. I trust it wasn’t anything urgent then,” said Benedict apologetically.

Carly grinned as she walked over and put her arm around Donna’s shoulders.

“Well, I wouldn’t say urgent, but I’d certainly say exciting! You’re in the papers, Donna!”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I took a comment Benedict once made in an interview about being grumpy if he didn't get eight hours of sleep and just ran with it. Not everyone is nice all the time, and it was his turn in this chapter to show a more unflattering side.
> 
> 2\. Andrew Scott really did film a commercial for Flahavan’s porridge when he was a child. He was on the Late Late Show being interviewed and actually said he hated it while the owner was in the audience to give him the track suit he wore in the commercial. Poor Andrew is mortified. Here is the link to the interview, which is hilarious: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tWooyyFF7PE
> 
> 3\. Here's hoping that any readers in the Northeast corridor of the US are all safe and came through the monster snow storm alright.


	116. Chapter 116

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Donna finds herself with conflicting emotions after viewing the photos from the red carpet and after party. Carly tells her sister off. Then we will have a time jump as Benedict runs into his nemesis and returns home to a surprise.
> 
> Note: I’ll be using ******* for things happening at the same time.

 

 

Donna Saint James felt a strange combination of dread mixed with anticipation wash over her on hearing that she had made the papers. 

_Did Carly just say I was in the papers? Yes, she did! This is so exciting or is it?_

“Are you kidding me?”

“Nope. Is your computer on?”

“I never had time to turn it on this morning,” replied Donna. “But it will only take a couple of minutes to boot up.”

_Shit! I was too busy bickering with Benedict, baking corn muffins and having makeup sex. Of all mornings for me not to turn on the computer._

Donna rushed to her desk and turned on the PC, heart thudding with excitement. As she waited for the machine to boot up, she became aware of Carly, Benedict and Andrew standing behind her. Benedict noticed that Donna was impatiently taping her foot.

_Hmmm…Donna’s not too anxious to see these photos. I hope she’s in more than one and that they’re flattering_ , thought Benedict. _They usually are, but you never know. I’ve seen a few of myself that made me cringe._

“Ah, shall we have a look then,” said Benedict as Donna’s screensaver came up.   He smiled as he noticed it was a photo of the two of them with Big Ben in the background. “Hmmm…big, medium and little Ben all in the same photo,” he murmured under his breath. “Except you can’t see little…”

“How can you joke at a time like this!” exclaimed Donna as she signed into her email. “God knows what we may find.”

“It’ll be fine, Darlin’,” said Andrew reassuringly. “They’re professional photographers; so all the photos will be of good quality. I’d say the great majority of them come out just fine.”

“It’s the pap photos that are usually the worst,” added Benedict. “They’ve caught me grimacing, yawning and one time...”

_Right after Olivia and I had a bit of a domestic on the red carpet. We both look so angry with each other…and we were.  
_

“…erm…looking generally not particularly pleased to be there in general.”

_That was bad that night. Karon gave us both a dressing down for looking so miserable and not putting on happy faces. I wonder if Donna’s seen those photos online. I know they are still there if you do a search for the event.  
_

_Hmmm…I know exactly what photos he’s referring to,_ thought Donna _. The ones taken at the gala premiere of that movie In the Loop and at the Film Critics Awards show. They looked pretty pissed off with each other._

“I was once photographed scratching my nose,” laughed Andrew. “But from the angle it appeared that I was picking it instead. Now, I won’t scratch my nose no matter how much it itches until I’m out of camera range.”

“Carly, is my name mentioned and what I do for a living? How do I look? I hope to God they didn’t get me with the frightened look,” Donna said, nervously twisting a lock of her hair around her index finger while she waited for the email to download.

“Oh, for God’s sake, Donna! You need to take a chill pill!” declared Carly. “Your identity remains intact, your boobs are covered and there’s nothing stuck between your two front teeth. Stop worrying over something that should be fun.”

Benedict stood behind Donna and placed both of his large hands on her shoulders and began to massage them.

“Stay calm, Love. I’m sure Carly would have told you if there was something awful that you needed to see by now. Isn’t that so, Carly?”

“There’s nothing awful, Donna, I promise. Steven found them online last night when the reviews began to come out.”

Donna frowned. “You mean this stuff was out last night and you didn’t think to call me!”

“Half of the reviews were out last night and the other half were up this morning. Your cellphone was going straight to your voicemail.”

“That’s because I turned it off when we got back. But what about the land line? Benedict hadn’t taken it off the hook until this morning, so you should have been able to get through.”

“Your answering machine picked up last night, and I did leave a message.”

“That’s odd, isn’t it, Benedict? We should have heard the phone ring and the answering machine pick up.”

_It’s not odd at all,_ thought Benedict. _Especially, since I shut_ _off the ringers off on the phones in the kitchen and bedroom and turned the volume down on the answerphone whilst you were otherwise occupied in the loo._

Donna noticed that Benedict was still massaging her shoulders and not saying a word.

_Maybe it’s not as odd as I think. We had sex last night when we got back. Benedict must have turned off the ringers on the phones while I was out of the room. However, we should have heard the answering machine pick up from the kitchen. I’ve got the volume turned up all the way so I can hear it in the bedroom…unless someone was busy while I was in the bathroom last night.  
_

“Ben, do you have any idea why one of us didn’t hear either of the phones ringing?”

_Shit! I hate when Donna catches me like this. She knows bloody well what I did._

“Yeah. I turned off the ringers so we wouldn’t be disturbed and turned down the volume on the answerphone.”

“You are incorrigible, Benedict!” sighed Donna.

“Believe me, Donna. If it were anything truly cringe-worthy, I would have been banging on your door,” reassured Carly. “Ah, here we are. Go to your email. I sent you all the links to make it easier to find.”

The first email was from their parents. The title was “Our Donna Wows on the Red Carpet!!!” Donna noticed there was also an attachment.

“Mom and Dad are replying to my group email that I sent the family,” clarified Carly. “Why don’t you skip to mine instead and read theirs later,” she suggested nervously. “I’m sure Andrew and Ben don’t care about what they have to say.” _Especially since we never know what they’re going to say._

“Whatever you want to do, Darlin’ is fine with me,” said Andrew, sipping his coffee and munching on a corn muffin. “I’m sure they were very proud of you two.”

“Why don’t you read it when I’m not around,” advised Benedict. “I don’t need to see it.”

_Especially if Neil wrote something demeaning about me. I don’t need the bastard aggravating me with his shit whilst I’m preparing for an important audition._

_Shut up, Andrew. You don’t know what you’re saying. That email could be a ticking time bomb,_ thought Carly.

_Hmmm…looks like Mom sent it last night right after they got Carly’s email. It wasn’t that late in New York; so they had plenty of time to check out all the reviews and photos. I’m also willing to bet that Uncle Rodney emailed Daddy his review,_ thought Donna.

“You’re right, Curly Carly. I can always read Mom and Dad’s later,” said Donna, erring on the side of caution.

“Oh, look! That one’s from Uncle Rodney!” exclaimed Carly, pointing to the email under Antonia’s entitled, “My Review of _Creation_ ”. Open it so I can see what he had to say.”

“Yes! Let’s open that one first!” agreed Donna. “I love Uncle Rodney’s reviews!”

“Well, I don’t, pardon me for saying,” scoffed Andrew. “Your Uncle Rodney lambasted me in a play I was in four years ago. He referred to me as that non entity who couldn’t arouse pity in a stone. My mum ripped the paper to shreds that morning and tossed it into the fireplace.”

“He did like you in _Cock_ ,” said Carly.

“I remember that he praised your performance,” added Donna.

“He was retired then,” countered Andrew. “So, that doesn’t count, officially; even though I was pleased as fuck be that he enjoyed it.”

“ _Please_ don’t open that!” snapped Benedict, covering her mouse hand with his own to prevent her from clicking on it.

Donna looked up at him in puzzlement. “Why the heck not? You love reading my emails, and this time you even have my permission to do so.”

Carly and Andrew fixed Benedict with a look. He gave them an embarrassed smile and shrugged. Donna noticed that he still kept his hand firmly on top of hers.

“I can read it on my smart phone later whilst I’m on my way to the audition. Besides, as you pointed out, we already know what he thought.”

_Well, I know what he told me to my face. Who knows what else he may have put in his actual review.  
_

“Oh my gosh! You think Uncle Rodney may have told you one thing and wrote another? I can assure you that the content of the review isn’t going to be any different from what Uncle Rodney told you in person, Benedict,” said Donna defensively. “He’s not like that.”

“Do we have a case of insider information here?” inquired Andrew. “Does someone care to fill me in?”

“Uncle Rodney took Ben aside and gave him a head’s up right after the screening ended,” Carly explained to Andrew. “Wasn’t that nice of him to do that?”

“You weren’t supposed to tell anyone that, Carly,” scolded Donna.

“I heard nothing,” Andrew assured them, covering his ears. “That was very nice of him to take you into his confidence, Ben; and most unusual for a critic.”

“Indeed,” agreed Benedict.

There was silence in the room.

“So out with it then!” prodded Andrew. “I’m the only one here who doesn’t know the outcome.”

“He said the movie was fine for what it was, and that I gave a decent performance,” replied Benedict, trying to hide a satisfied smile.

Andrew whistled softly. “That _is_ high praise coming from the likes of him.”

“That it is.”

“So, Benedict, are you game to read my parents’ email?” teased Donna.

“No! Somehow I have a feeling that one will only serve to irritate me,” retorted Benedict. “Your father is fond of giving a compliment with one hand whilst he takes it away with the other.”

“Oh, stop being silly!” said Donna. “They weren’t even there last night!”

“It’s definitely a reply to the group email I sent with your photos from the red carpet,” explained Carly. “Maybe Benedict’s right and you should look at that one later.”

“Let’s see the photos then,” said Andrew. “The ones on Getty Images are always the best.”

“Not to mention some of the tabloids and celebrity gossip sites will use those,” added Benedict with disdain. “They’re too bloody lazy and cheap to send their own people.”

_Benedict doesn’t have any respect for the tabloids and gossip sites_ , thought Donna. _They do serve somewhat of a purpose – to entertain people – even though a lot of times they make up stuff or ‘borrow’ other papers works according to Daddy. He says they don't know the meaning of the word 'integrity' and detests them as well. Hmmm…that’s something they have in common._

“I actually think they all look the same after a while,” giggled Andrew. “You’ll find they’re basically variations of three or four different poses. Head, full body, left and right profiles. Shall I show you how it’s done then?”

Without waiting for a response, Andrew struck four poses with the same exaggerated toothy smile, one after the other as they all doubled-over with laughter. Then he did them again but with a bored look.

“C’mon, Ben. I need you to be my date! Quick as you can now!” Then Andrew grabbed Benedict’s arm and the two of them posed as a couple in the same ways.

“I get the point,” chortled Carly. “Now, that I think about it, you’re one hundred percent right!”

Donna clicked on the link to Getty Images and scoured the page of photos that appeared in front of her.

“Wow! There are so many photos…I don’t see us…”

“Keep scrolling,” instructed Carly. “There were lots of people there.”

“Actually, this was small for a premiere,” interjected Andrew. “You should see the ones they hold in Leicester Square. Those are fucking huge!”

“I see you, Ben!” said Donna excitedly. “There are four photos of you alone.”

They all looked at the photos of Benedict.

The first was captioned: **Benedict Cumberbatch attends the European Film Premiere of "Creation" at the Curzon Mayfair Cinema on September 13, 2009 in London, England.**

The second one was captioned: **British Actor, Benedict Cumberbatch attends the UK Premiere of Creation held at the Curzon Mayfair on September 13, 2009 in London, England.**

The other two held similar captions.

“Oh, wait! I see you, Darlin’! You’re in the last one!” said Andrew, leaning down and pointing at the screen.

“That photo is of Benedict,” said Donna with a puzzled look on her face.

“But you’re in it, too! Look!” insisted Carly excitedly. “To the right of Ben!”

“I don’t see Donna,” said Benedict, squinting at the screen as he leaned in over Donna's head.

“There I am. I’m behind you in the background,” sighed Donna with disappointment. “That’s my shoulder.”

“There’s more of you in the one next to it,” said Carly. “They got your profile in the background…see, next to the plump woman with the long black hair. What do they call those people who lead you around?” she asked Andrew and Benedict.

“Handlers,” replied Andrew.

“Publicists,” replied Benedict.

“Both, actually,” admitted Andrew. “Only our publicists tend to come off a bit bossier.”

_Karon’s a lot bossier_ , laughed Donna to herself. _She’s like a drill sergeant._

“Here we are together,” Benedict said, pointing to another photo. “How very lovely you look, Darling.” He bent down and kissed the top of Donna’s head. “I knew you could do it!”

“You two look absolutely adorable and so much in love! You must get a copy of it, and have it framed,” said Andrew.

“No worries on that front. Our mother’s been on it,” laughed Carly. “She’s already emailed us an un-watermarked copy of it. That’s probably the attachment in that email, Donna.”

Benedict and Donna exchanged brief looks and shrugged. Donna’s eyes followed Benedict’s finger to where he had been pointing on the screen.

Donna beamed. “That one did come out nice! It’s even better than the one Steve took. You look so handsome, Benedict!”

She and Benedict were standing side-by-side on the red carpet. They were both smiling happily with their arms wrapped around each others waists, heads leaning against one anothers.

The caption said: **British Actor, Benedict Cumberbatch arrives at the UK Premiere of Creation held at the Curzon Mayfair on September 13, 2009 in London, England with guest.**

_Guest? I look like more than just a guest in that photo. Well, I suppose I was his guest after all._

“With guest. I’ve been labeled your guest,” mused Donna.

“Yeah,” confirmed Carly. “I found a couple of variations of that photo with similar wording. It’s either: Benedict Cumberbatch and guest arrive for the premiere or Benedict Cumberbatch arrives at premiere with guest. There is no mention of who you are anywhere that I could find. You should be feeling very relieved by that, Missy.”

“Oh, I am!” blurted out Donna.

_Am I?_

“I can’t tell you just how happy and relieved I am that my name wasn’t mentioned!”

_I am, right?_

“See, your identity is safe,” said Carly. “You carried on for nothing.”

Benedict patted Donna’s back. “You can now continue to review the unsuspecting restaurants of London incognito without fear of being recognized.”

“Yes. I have no idea why I was so worried.”

_No one seemed to care who I am to Benedict or what my occupation is.  
_

Donna stared at the screen with a slight frown on her face.

_I was simply his guest as far as the press was concerned._

“This is better than I could have hoped for.”

“Exactly,” agreed Carly. “You got barely a mention. I’m sure the readers just skimmed over it.”

“Yes. Guest is good.” _  
_

_Then why do I care that no one seemed to care?  
_

“All the focus will be on the film content and the leads,” added Andrew. “You needn’t had worried from the start, Darlin’. Not to mention it was a small film.”

“All true,” agreed Benedict. “And it’s a film which won’t appeal to everyone because of the controversial subject matter; so I never expected it to get all that much attention in the first place.” _  
_

Benedict had noticed how Donna’s face had fallen and rubbed her upper arms. He also took note that her normally near perfect posture has suddenly slumped a bit.

_Why do I think my lady protests much too quickly and too much? If I didn’t know better, I’d say Donna was disappointed that no one asked about her and her name wasn’t picked up for a mention as my date. She could hardly expect it though. I’m lucky my name got mentioned, and I was in the bloody film!_

“Oh, I see Martin was there,” observed Andrew, pointing to a photo of Benedict with Martin Freeman.   The caption read: **L-R Martin Freeman and Benedict Cumberbatch attend the UK Premiere of Creation held at the Curzon Mayfair on September 13, 2009 in London, England.**

“There are quite a few of Martin Freeman,” said Carly. “Look at all the different poses they have of him.”

“That’s because Martin’s more well-known than we are,” explained Andrew.

“Especially from his role as Tim in _The Office_ ,” added Benedict. “I only had a supporting role, so there wouldn’t be that many of me. I had to try and stick myself in where ever I could to ensure my mug got out there.”

_Benedict’s right. He was there to do his job, and his job was to be noticed,_ thought Donna. _But Jeez Louise, at least label me as his ‘date’. I guess it wasn’t apparent to them, but we did pose as a couple. We hugged and had our arms around each other. There were even a couple of stolen kisses._

“Why don’t we look the papers that actually carry some weight,” suggested Benedict, patting her shoulder reassuringly. “Surely your own paper picked you out. That should cheer you.”

Donna looked up at him, but his expression was passive. She could not read his face.

_Why did Benedict say that? Does he suspect what I’m ashamed to admit? That I’m disappointed that I wasn’t asked about and mentioned by the press? I should be on cloud nine that I got away with it. I guess Karon was right – no one cared. I guess it’s because Benedict isn’t really famous. That’s what Dad would tell me: Don’t expect the papers to make a fuss over you, Muffin; when they barely make a fuss over Cumberbatch. It’s not like he’s George Clooney and everyone wants to know who he is and who he’s with._

Donna clicked on the links to the London Times, the Guardian and the one to the Tribune.   There were only photos of Benedict solo and one of him and Martin. She was nowhere to be seen.

“That’s surprising,” commented Benedict, scratching his head. “I would have thought for certain that The Tribune would have made mention of you.”

“No, they wouldn’t,” said Donna. “They wouldn’t want my name connected to my face in order to keep the reviews as anonymous as possible.”

_Damn them. Stan, the photographer and my review buddy was there, too. I’ll call him later to see if he took any candid photos of Benedict and me.  
_

“I thought your boss wanted you to put your photo next to your column yes?” asked Andrew.

“We’ve been discussing it for the past several months,” replied Donna. “He insists that it has its pros and cons, but the editor-in-chief isn’t wild about the idea. So far, he’s vetoed it.”

“Some of the other papers columnists do it,” countered Andrew. “I don’t really think the servers and greeters recognize critics. The chefs, certainly would; but not the others.”

“You’d be surprised,” retorted Donna. “The ones who are foodies often suspect when they’re serving a critic. We had a server at the Orangery who recognized me from my name.”

“Among other reasons,” said Benedict in barely audible voice. _  
_

Donna felt Benedict’s eyes boring through the back of her head.

_That was a mistake, Donna. I can just hear the gears whirring into motion inside his head.  
_

“My Grandpa was the one who told her; but then she said she could spot a critic immediately and divulged how she always knew,” continued Donna. “So I’ve got to be careful not to arouse suspicion.”

_Which I just did in Benedict; but for a different reason. Damn!_

_The server didn’t recognize Donna because she was a food critic. It was because she was convinced that Mum was interviewing her for a job as a PA. I don’t care what my parents and Donna say, I’m still not convinced it was only a friendly little meet and greet tea. Not to mention Mum had a copy of Donna’s CV hidden in her desk drawer. I’d really fancy an explanation of that. Perhaps I’ll ask them both and see what the responses are. That may prove to be very interesting._

“Anyway, we have one more link,” said Donna, swiftly changing the subject, as she clicked on the link for the Daily Mail.

“Oh, not that rubbish rag!” spat Benedict.

“They’re the worst!” agreed Andrew with obvious contempt.

There was a solo picture of Benedict on the red carpet and one of him in a cast group shot.

“You missed one,” said Carly. “Click on the one for Zimbio.”

“Okay. Last one,” sighed Donna.

“Wait! Isn’t that your mother, Ben?” asked Carly, pointing at the screen. “The fourth row, second one in from the right.”

There was indeed a candid photo of Benedict and Wanda that had been taken outside the theatre.

“When was that taken?” inquired Donna. “I don’t recall seeing your parents until we went inside the lobby.”

“It must have been taken just after you went to the bogs from the looks of it,” replied Benedict, leaning over Donna’s head in order to take a closer look. “Mum was very concerned that you were upset.”

“That was so sweet of her to be concerned about me,” said Donna.

_I wonder if Wanda is labeled as guest_ , thought Donna as she read the caption:

**Actress Wanda Ventham and son attend the UK Premiere of Creation held at the Curzon Mayfair on September 13, 2009 in London, England.**

_Nope. I suppose Wanda would be recognized, and she got top billing in the caption. They didn’t even mention Benedict’s name. Let’s face it, Donna, you’re jealous and upset that you weren’t mentioned.  
_

Benedict smiled and emitted a dry chuckle. “See, I was labeled as ‘son’ in that one. Mum stole my thunder and got the mention instead. Karon must have been chuffed as fuck about that. She wandered over to make sure the paps knew we were having a mother-son bonding moment; but it seems to have backfired.”

“Well done, Wanda!” smiled Andrew. “Your mum looks lovely, Ben, and far younger than her years.”

“Thank you. I think she does as well. I’ll be sure to tell her.” _  
_

“Holy shit! Here you are again, Donna!” exclaimed Carly, clapping her hand over her mouth. “How could we have missed this one? It’s hysterical!” _  
_

The photo was of Donna, Martin and Benedict sitting on the couch at the after party. They were leaning in close together, and Martin had his hand firmly planted on Benedict’s thigh.

“Look at that cheeky grin on Martin!” giggled Andrew. “Always the joker.”

Benedict burst out laughing. “Hahaha!” That’s just like him, isn’t it? Such a right naughty bastard he is!”

“That’s really funny!” said Carly. “Isn’t it Donna?”

Donna was too busy reading the caption to respond: **Actors Benedict Cumberbatch and Martin Freeman attend the 'Creation' premiere party at the National History Museum on September 13 in London, England with guest.**

_Yeah, real funny_. _I’m a guest once again. Jeez Louise._

“What’s bothering you, Donna?” asked Carly suddenly, irritation in her voice. “Are you pissed off that your name isn’t mentioned?”

_Oh, my twin knows me too well._

_Donna’s face just turned several shades of scarlet. Carly seems to think Donna isn’t happy that she wasn’t mentioned in the papers_ , thought Benedict. _I thought I might have been imagining it; but upon hearing it voiced; I wonder._

“I just don’t like being labeled as guest,” replied Donna quietly. “It’s so…I don’t know…”

_Oh, yes you do, Donna. Spit it out. Don’t try to fool Carly. She knows you better than anyone in this room. Benedict’s also watching you like a hawk. He suspects that you’re jealous of the attention he got._

“…impersonal.”

“Donna Marie Saint James you’re annoyed that you weren’t mentioned!” Carly nearly shouted in disbelief. “What’s with all this crap then about not wanting to be singled out and protecting your identity?”

“I’m not annoyed, _Carla_. I’m just feeling…oh, I don’t know…a little…”

_She just addressed her as ‘Carla’ – I beg to differ,_ thought Benedict. _I’m going to say it._

“Envious?” asked Benedict with a raised eyebrow.

_I should have known he was going to call me on it. I should not be surprised._

“Certainly not!” huffed Donna indignantly. “I’m just… peeved.”

_OH ho! I may have hit on something after all. Could it be Donna is jealous? How very unlike her,_ thought Benedict.

“And you’re peeved because no one asked who you were and didn’t get mentioned,” shot back Carly. “For God’s sake, Donna! How immature is that? You can’t have it both ways!”

“I am not immature.”

“I beg to differ, Sister. Ham should have been our middle names; and I’m including myself in this as well. We’ve always loved being in the limelight – otherwise we wouldn’t have been so eager to be in the Drama Club and Chorus and Band and singing at Disney.”

Carly’s words stung and Donna felt her face get hot. She looked at Benedict, who was taking in everything with an impassive expression.

“It was just…you know… school plays and the like,” Donna said off-handedly.

Carly rolled her eyes at Benedict and Andrew and shook her head.

“While we were growing up, if there was an opportunity to perform, Donna jumped at it. I think you’ll both agree that shy people do not go in for that sort of thing. They avoid it like the plague.”

“My God, Carly! Yes, I did enjoy all those activities when I was in school. However, I’m an adult now; and I’ve got a writing career that I love. I don’t need or want to perform on a stage any more. It was just for fun – I never intended to ever make a career out of it – like Benedict and Andrew.”

“Hmm…I still think if you had gone to Vegas with Danny Manganero…”

“Time out, ladies, _please_!” interrupted Benedict, glaring at both sisters, and clapping his hands together. “This is utterly ridiculous.  There’s no need to bring up the past, Carly. Donna’s told me that she did all that in her youth for a lark. She’s not jealous in the slightest!” Then he turned his gaze on Donna. “You’ve always wanted to remain anonymous, isn’t that right, Love?”

Donna sat still and didn’t say a word.

“Donna?” Benedict tried again.

“Not really,” replied Donna in a small voice. “I’ve just realized after looking at the photos, that deep down inside a part of me wanted to share in the spotlight, too. I don’t like seeing myself labeled as ‘guest’. I just realized now that you are right - I am...jealous. Labeling me as 'guest' makes me feel insignificant…unimportant…like a thing that just happened to be there with you. I know I made a big deal about wanting my identity kept private, and I still don't want anyone to know that I write the Tasty Travels column.  I think that would have taken the focus off of you, and that would not have been fair.  Last night was your night, not mine. I just wanted to be recognized as your girlfriend, damn it!  I wanted the world to know that we're together and how happy we are!”

Benedict sucked in his lower lip and nodded thoughtfully. He spun the chair around and got down on his haunches to take her hands in his and squeezed them. He looked deep into her hazel eyes as he kissed each palm and then smiled warmly at her.

“You’re very important to me, which is why I asked you to come with me in the first place. Your presence and support were utterly invaluable to me last night.”

“I realize that, Benedict; and I’m very happy to hear you say it again. It’s just that I feel so ashamed that I feel this way. I never thought something so trivial would bother me so much.”

Benedict chuckled and squeezed her hands again. “If it makes you feel any better, there was no one specifically clamouring for my attention either last night, as I’m sure you noticed. Most of the fans I signed for were just excited to be there and wanted autographs from whoever they could get. I do it because it’s good publicity for me. Hopefully, these fans will one day recognize my face or my name.”

“We go to as many of these things as our publicists can get us invites to for the express purpose of being noticed. It’s paramount that our faces and names be out there, as we’re pretty much unknowns,” added Andrew. “Am I right, Ben?”

Benedict nodded. “Absolutely. That’s why I have to go to the actual opening of the Darwin exhibition – not only because I was in the film but also to keep myself in the public eye.”

“It’s all about being properly branded,” giggled Andrew.

Carly blinked in surprise at Andrew’s choice of words. “Branded?”

“Yeah. Ben and I are trying to sell a brand.”

“Namely, ourselves,” added Benedict with a slight laugh.

“You make it sound as if you’re a commodity,” commented Carly.

“Well, in essence we are,” explained Benedict matter-of-factly. “We’re trying to sell ourselves to the public as actors they should be interested in and whose work they should want to pay to see. If it works, then it will boost our respective careers, which in turn will lead to more and better roles.”

“You should count yourselves lucky that you don’t have to do that,” laughed Andrew. “An actor’s life isn’t for everyone.”

“Certainly not me!” agreed Carly. “A little attention is fine; but I would hate to be in the spotlight constantly. However, I won’t lie – I would love all the perks and trappings that come with fame.”

“I’m sorry everyone,” said Donna. “I’ve been acting like such a bitch. I can’t believe I allowed my priorities to get so fucked up. Carly, I think you captured the essence of what I was feeling. I’m truly mortified to have to admit that I really did want a little attention last night – not as a restaurant critic; but as Benedict’s girlfriend. And as much as I really enjoyed all the special treatment we received, I don’t think I’d like a steady diet of it.”

“No worries there,” scoffed Benedict. “I don’t see much of that in my immediate future.”

“Nor do I, which is why we keep plodding along,” added Andrew. “In hopes that someday we just might get a small slice of the pie.”

“In the end it’s all about the work and maintaining the quality of our craft,” said Benedict.

“First and foremost is to give the best performance that we can possibly give. The other things are secondary to be honest,” chimed in Andrew. “Though having enough disposable income to afford a new car or go on a proper holiday would be so very lovely.”

“That it would,” agreed Benedict. “All in all, I’d say the evening was a total success for you, Donna. Your goal was to try and remain anonymous, and you succeeded.”

“Yes, you’re right; and for you as well!”

_Oh, Donna, your honey is right once again. It’s time to gather yourself together and stop sulking about something as silly as having your name in the paper. You never wanted to be mentioned in the first place; and you weren’t and should be thankful. Last night was all about Benedict and getting him positive exposure. I won’t lie to myself – parts of it were really fun. However, some of it was also daunting as hell. I can’t imagine what it would be like to be the significant other of someone who’s really famous. It’s probably a good thing I don’t have to contend with that!  
_

##################################################

_  
_

Three weeks later:

 

Benedict Cumberbatch exited the Hampstead Tube station and briskly walked along Hampstead High Street. There was a definite spring in his step and a smile on his face as he made his way towards his neighborhood.

_Donna is going to be so surprised when I give her the news. I can hardly believe it myself!   I think I’ll bring home some bubbly so we can celebrate properly._

Benedict caught his reflection in the window of one of the shops.

_I’ve got to stop grinning like an utter dolt. People will think there’s something wrong with me. But there isn’t! I’m so over the moon because everything couldn’t be more right. I’m making huge strides in my personal and professional goals. I’ve just been verbally offered the lead role in After the Dance, the Van Gogh filming is going extraordinarily well; and I’ll be getting engaged next month. It’s an embarrassment of riches._

As he came upon the liquor store, the door swung open and a very tall, thin man clad in a camel-coloured cashmere topcoat came out in a rush, nearly colliding with Benedict. The white-blond-haired man was roughly Benedict’s age and was laden with several shopping bags from the various gourmet food stores that lined the street. He was trying to hold onto a large bouquet of fresh flowers as well, but was fast losing the battle.

“Please forgive me, Mate. I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going,” the man stammered.

“No worries. Let me get that,” said Benedict, taking the bouquet from the man until he had gained control over his packages once again.

_Lucky sod must have a hot date tonight,_ he thought with amusement. _Wait. I’ve seen him before, but where? His voice is very familiar.  
_

The pale-faced man hesitated as he looked Benedict over. “Don’t I know you?”

“I must admit your face is familiar to me as well.”

_I bet he’s seen me in a film or television production.  
_

“I wish I could place from where I know you. This is going to drive me crackers!” the man laughed.

“Well, I’m an actor; so perhaps you’ve seen one of my…”

“I know who you are! You’re Donna’s boyfriend! Of course,” the man laughed heartily. “How could I forget?”

_Okay, Benedict. He knows you through Donna then. He must be one of her colleagues from the London Tribune, no doubt. OH. WAIT. It can’t be. I didn’t recognize him at first because his hair is longer, and he’s dressed differently. As a matter of fact, he’s dressed very nicely for a waiter. They must pay well at the Tate Modern._

“I’m used to looking down at you – literally; and you’re used to looking up at me,” the man chuckled.

_Fuck me! It is the wanker waiter from the Tate Modern!  Lurch!  What is his bloody name? Frank...no. Fritz…no. Francesco…no._

“We’ve never been properly introduced. Frederick Bartram,” the man said, setting down his shopping bags and shifting the flowers to his left hand in order to offer his hand to Benedict.

“No, we haven’t been now that you mention it. Benedict Cumberbatch,” agreed Benedict, clasping Frederick’s hand and shaking it firmly.

“Donna’s been trying to talk me around into joining her restaurant review team.”

_Restaurant review team? Since when did Donna put together a team to go out on restaurant reviews? She’s never mentioned anything like that to me._

“Donna can be very persuasive when she fancies,” laughed Benedict.

“Oh, she truly is. I’ve been giving it serious thought. I think it’s something I would really enjoy being a part of.”

“Well, I don’t want to keep you then. You look as if you’ve got a big night planned,” said Benedict, referring to Frederick’s many bags.

“As a matter of fact, I do. I’ve just been promoted to Chief Server at the Tate; so my girl and I have something to celebrate tonight.”

“Congratulations,” smiled Benedict. “Does this mean you won’t be waiting on tables any longer?”

_Please, God, let it be that he won’t be serving me anymore. Donna always requests that he take care of us whenever she makes a booking._

“Not at all. It just means that I’ll be supervising the others during service and sorting out the work schedules in addition to my normal duties.”

_Pity. I was really hoping they were going to have him just supervise the dining room._

“Jolly good for you, then and best of luck to you! Well, I’ve got some celebrating of my own to do tonight; so if you’ll excuse me, Frederick.”

Frederick began to gather up his shopping bags. “Did you get that part in the play Donna was telling me about? She said you were the director's first choice and you only had to go to an interview and one audition so far.” _  
_

_Nothing is sacred. Now, he’s Donna’s confidante. Shit._

Benedict smiled shyly. “Yeah. As a matter of fact, I just got the call that I got the part; so I thought I’d pop in and get a split of champagne. Donna’s at my flat cooking us dinner as we speak,” he replied while making a point of looking at his watch. “I live over on Parliament Hill.”

“Congratulations to you as well, Benedict! Would you care for me to come back in with you and help you select something appropriate?”

_Fuck, no! Well, yes, that would be lovely of him but…Jesus Christ…why does a perfectly inane offer make me bristle so? He means well.  
_

“Do you have a clue as to what Donna’s making?”

“She wants it to be a surprise; so all I know is that’s it’s a beef dish because I had to pick it up at the butcher's for her.”

Frederick frowned and pondered Benedict’s response. “Champagne doesn’t always compliment everything. I've always fancied it with a delicate dish...like fish or veal.  Sometimes you’re better off pairing a good robust red with a hearty beef dish – nothing too sweet. Definitely not a Merlot then...a nice Bordeaux might work very nicely.” _  
_

_And now he’s just reminded me why I bristle. Because I know he secretly loves showing off in front of me. Nope. He’s not going to do it this time. The shop owners have known me for years. If I need help, they’ll help me. So, sorry to disappoint you, Frederick; but you’re not going to show me up this time in my neighborhood liquor store. I’m perfectly capable of selecting my own motherfucking champagne.  
_

“A Beaujolais could also work - especially, one from 1998 or 2000. The soil and weather conditions were just perfect those two years.  The wines were delectable!”

_Like I would know the difference! They could have stomped on the motherfucking grapes with their bloody feet last week for all I know. I just want to buy something that tastes good._

“On the other hand, I’ve found that champagne never fails to impress.”

_It’s true - I am out to impress Donna. Am I that transparent?_

“However, being you’re dating a professional critic; I’m assuming Donna will be harder to impress than most women. I wouldn’t fancy being in your shoes, Mate.” _  
_

_Okay. I need to get going before I get the urge to deck him...hmmm, too late! Oh, Benedict, who are you fooling about the champagne? You only know what Adam told you, but that should be enough. Brut it is.  
_

“Thank you for the kind offer; but I don’t want to keep you,” said Benedict.

Frederick looked honestly disappointed. “If you’re sure then, Mate. It really is no trouble.”

_And now I’m his mate. Hells bells as Mum would say._

“I’m sure.  I think I'll get a bottle of Brut and call it a day.”

“You can never go wrong with Brut, Ben.  It's a nice, safe choice."

_Ah, he couldn't resist giving me a parting jab.  Wanker._

"Enjoy your celebration then. Give my best to Donna.”

“I will. Cheers.”

Benedict pushed open the door to the liquor store and sighed inwardly with relief once he was inside. The owner looked up from a shelf he was stocking with bottles of imported French brandy and smiled warmly at him.

“Evening, Benedict. I haven’t seen you in an age. What can I get you?”

“A split of your best Brut champagne,” replied Benedict Cumberbatch with a new-found confidence.

 

************************************************************************************************************************

 

Donna Saint James had been sitting on the couch in Benedict’s living room, reading a Robert B. Parker detective novel when the oven timer went off announcing that her beef bourguignon was ready.

_Ah! Dinner’s ready! I can’t wait to taste it. I just know Ben is going to love it.  
_

Donna set her book down on the end table and eagerly made a beeline for the tiny galley-style kitchen _._ The scent of the rich stew filled the air and made her stomach growl. She opened the oven door and looked around the counter top with a frown on her face. Donna then searched the kitchen, but the drawers and cabinets were devoid of oven mitts.

_Where in the heck are his oven mitts? I know he has a pair because I’ve seen him use them countless times. Let’s see…I need to solve the case of the elusive oven mitts. Could he have washed them? It’s as good a guess as any.  
_

After closing the oven door, Donna went to the alcove in the hallway where the washer and dryer were kept. She slid open the pocket door and gasped. To her astonishment she was greeted by two empty plastic laundry baskets.

_Holy shit! My honey not only did his laundry; but put it all away as well. This qualifies as a miracle – unless…_

To Donna’s surprise the dryer was also empty; but low and behold the washer was filled with still-damp towels. She could see one of the oven mitts mixed in with them.

_I guess Benedict decided to do a load before he left this morning. I’ll just pop these into the dryer for him, and they should be done by midnight.  God, how I loathe these low-powered dryers here._

Donna loaded the dryer, set the temperature and timer controls and returned to the kitchen.

_I really need something to get the casserole out of the oven. But what can I use?_

She looked around and her eyes settled on the dishtowel that she had used earlier.

_Giada always uses her dishtowels to take things out of the oven. So do all the other chefs I see on TV. I’ll just use this and make like a celebrity chef.  
_

 

*********************************************************

 

Benedict Cumberbatch unlocked the door to his flat and was greeted with the heady scent of meat and red wine wafting through the air. His mouth began to salivate in response to the delicious aroma.

“Hello! Something smells divine!” he called out, setting down the bottle of chilled champagne on the small table in his foyer and removing his coat and scarf. “I hope you made plenty of whatever it is because I’m ravenous.”

_You’re such a tit, Benedict. Donna always cooks enough so you can have leftovers for another meal or two._

He saw that Donna had brought in his mail and set it out on the table all neatly sorted into three piles for him.

_That was kind of Donna to bring in my mail.  I love how she had to sort it according to bills, personal and adverts, bless her.  I do like that she didn't take it upon herself to toss the adverts - I like to at least look them over before I toss them out._

Benedict put down one of the bills he had picked up when he realized that Donna hadn't answered him.  He could hear the sound of running water coming from the kitchen and the sound of what sounded like Donna swearing up a storm.  

“Donna? I’m back!” Benedict called out, hanging his coat in the foyer wardrobe.

There was no response.

“Is everything alright, Darling?” He toed off his shoes and put on his navy blue corduroy slippers.

There was still no response but the sound of running water and more swearing.

_You’re such a dolt, Benedict. She can’t hear you with the water running. Why is she swearing though? I’d better get in there and have a look._

Benedict picked up the wine and entered his lounge. The dining table had been set formally for two with his one tablecloth and matching linen serviettes. A low arrangement of fresh autumn flowers had been placed in the center of the table and was flanked by two candle sticks, which hadn’t been lit yet. The view through the large picture window showed the night lights of the London skyline glittering in the distance. He noted that Donna had lit the fireplace, the dancing yellow/orange flames casting a warm romantic glow over the room, making it feel extra cozy.

_The odds of my getting laid tonight are steadily improving,_ he chuckled to himself. _There’s no better celebration than a good home-cooked meal, followed by a thorough shagging.  
_

“Donna?”

“In here!” came her short reply from the kitchen.

A smile came to Benedict’s face upon seeing that the glass biscuit jar he kept on his breakfast bar had been refilled with what appeared to be thick, shortbread fingers. He put the champagne down and lifted the lid so he could inspect the contents closely. _  
_

_Mmm…shortbread it is! I can’t wait to have those with a cuppa._

“I see you’ve been busy baking today,” Benedict mused as he rounded the breakfast bar and entered the kitchen. “Thank you so much for…”

Benedict stopped short upon entering the small kitchen and drew himself up ramrod straight. His ice blue eyes widened in horror as he took in the scene before him.

Donna was stood at the sink, holding both of her reddened hands underneath the tap as cold water flowed over them. The oven door was wide open and his orange cast iron casserole dish was sat on the floor with one of his tea towels wrapped around it. Benedict could also see the lid was on the floor along with what appeared to be the former contents of the dish. The steaming, stew-like concoction covered a portion of the floor and had splashed onto the lower cabinets. He stepped around the mess and was by her side in a flash.

“For fucks sake! What in the hell happened? Are you alright?” Benedict asked, as sheer panic began to well up inside him. _  
_

_I need to remain calm. She’s obviously been hurt. What to do?  
_

“I think so. I was trying to take our dinner out of the oven, but the dish towel wasn’t thick enough. The heat went right through the damn thing, and I couldn’t hold it; so I had to drop it.  I'm so sorry about the mess and the floor, Ben!”

_I’m not calm. I think I’m going to puke.  
_

“Bloody hell! You mean to tell me you tried to take that blasted dish out of the oven using only a motherfucking tea towel? Are you mad?”

“Apparently. I swear they must use asbestos-lined ones on TV!”

“Let me see your hands,” Benedict demanded. “Not only is that pot akin to lifting a lead weight; it’s utterly marvelous at retaining heat.”

“So I found out - the hard way.”

Donna reluctantly removed her hands from underneath the running water and displayed them to Benedict. His face blanched as he studied them.

_He looks like he’s about to shift into full panic mode. Benedict is not very calm when something like this happens. He almost passed out when he thought I broke my toe last month when I stubbed it on his night stand._

“It’s not as bad as it looks.”

“That’s bollocks! They’re all red! You’ve been burned! I’m taking you to the A and E right now!”

“Calm down, Ben. I don’t need to go to the ER.”

“But look at your hands! Oh, no! I absolutely insist! Let’s get you bundled in your coat then so we can go!”

“Benedict. Please take a deep breath and listen to me. My hands are all red from running them under the cold water. Take a close look at them. There are no burns of any kind. There is no blistering that I can see. The trick was to run them under the cold water as soon as possible, which I did.  I can't see what more they can do for me in the ER." 

“Do they hurt?”

“Of course they do. The palms are tender and sore. I’ll just put them back under the water for a little longer and take an analgesic with dinner. Honestly, Ben, the pain is nothing compared to how angry I am with myself for being so stupid and careless.”

“Please let me call Mark at least,” pleaded Benedict. “He’ll know what to do. He’s a doctor you know and lives five minutes from here. Unless you’d rather I call your brother-in-law?”

“Mark and Steve are both fine doctors – there’s no doubt of that. However, I need you to trust me, Benedict. I don’t need professional medical attention. Neither Mark nor Steve is going to tell me anything I don’t already know. Did you forget that I earned my first aid badge when I was in the Girl Scouts? My troop leader taught us all about treating burns when we were working on our badges.”  

_Here we go again with the girl scouts, bless her!_

 “Bloody hell, Donna!” _  
_

“I really do know what to do in these situations, Benedict. Haven’t I taken care of you several times when you needed minor medical attention?”

“But this doesn’t look _minor_ to me!”

“It is. Trust me.” _  
_

_To be fair, Donna took brilliant care of me when I had that food poisoning and the clogged sinuses. Maybe I am making a fuss over something minor.  
_

“Have I ever been wrong about a diagnosis or treatment yet, Ben Honey?”

_Not yet anyway. She knew the difference between a cold and allergies and a sinus infection, not to mention she removed that splinter from my foot as well as any doctor or nurse could have. She also got me through that hideous bout of food poisoning I had in Cornwall._

“No. Shouldn’t you be putting ice on them?”

“You’re out of ice.”

“Fuck me! Wait! I’ll go downstairs. Bob will have ice. I need to catch him before he leaves for work. I’ll be back in a tic. Put your hands back under the water in the meantime!” Benedict ordered as he dashed out of the flat and down the stairs.

 

 

Donna Saint James sat at the end of Benedict’s breakfast bar, soaking her hands in a bowl of ice water while he cleaned the kitchen.  Soon she heard the sounds and smells of him cooking, but couldn't see that far into the tiny galley kitchen from where she was sitting.  After a half hour, he emerged from the room, carrying two plates of steaming food.

“Dinner’s served,” he announced. “Care to join me?”

Donna gently patted her hands dry on a clean towel and inhaled. “That smells good. What is it?” She slid off the stool and followed him to the table.

“Salisbury steak or as Mum calls it: posh hamburger,” smiled Benedict, setting the plates down on the dining room table. “We’ve also got some mash, onion gravy and buttered broccoli.”

“It looks wonderful,” said Donna. “We could have had brought something in. You didn’t have to cook.”

“You forget that I like to cook when I have the time. You also lucked out because I happened to have the ingredients with which to cook.”

“I can’t wait to taste it.”

“Ah, we still need to set the mood first.”

Benedict removed a pack of matches from his front pocket and lit the candles. Donna could see the outline of a pack of cigarettes in it as well.

_Someone must have had a few puffs of a cigarette today. He rarely carries matches or cigarettes on him anymore._

_Why is Donna looking at my crotch like that?  I don't have a hard-on. Shit. She's not looking at my crotch. She can make out that I have a pack of Marlboro Lights in my pocket._

“Before you even ask, yeah, I had a couple of drags on a fag today,” confirmed Benedict with a sigh. “The craving was overwhelming, and the nicotine gum just wasn’t satisfying me.”

“I don’t smell anything on you.”

“It was this morning, so there was plenty time for my clothes and hair to air out,” he explained, opening the bottle of champagne and pouring some into their respective glasses. “I also made sure to freshen my mouth before I came home. Care to do an inspection?”

Donna smiled up at him. “I wouldn’t mind performing an inspection at all.”

He sat perpendicular to her and leaned over so they could exchange a kiss.  Benedict regarded her with raised eyebrows.

“Did I pass?”

“Yes, you pass with flying colors.”

“So, give it a try and tell me what you think.”

Donna took a forkful of the ground beef patty and chewed thoughtfully.

“This posh hamburger is quite yummy. The onion gravy definitely makes it.”

Benedict beamed. “Well, I’m totes over the moon to hear you say that. There is no higher praise from a food critic than to have one’s dish proclaimed as ‘yummy’. I fear my heart may have just skipped a beat.”

“You’ll have to give me the recipe.”

“Nope. It’s a secret Ventham family recipe. I can’t divulge it on penalty of death.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“Yep. It’s quite simple really. I’ll write it down for you later.”

“I’m really sorry about the cracked floor tiles, Benedict. I insist on paying to replace them.”

“I don’t know if I can find replacements as they were the originals, and the house is quite old as you know. It was built in the 1890's. They may not even be able to reproduce them.”

“I’ll bring the pieces to the flooring store tomorrow and see what they can do. If they can’t find or make replacements, perhaps they can do a simple repair and glue it back together. It’s only two tiles.  At the very worst, I'll replace the whole floor for you.”

"Absolutely not!"

"Please don't argue with me, Benedict.  It's just a tiny work kitchen, so I can't see it costing all that much.  Let's see if it even comes to that.  I was just saying..."

“Let me know what you find out then. I have to tell you that whatever it was I was cleaning off the floor looked delicious.”

“It was beef bourguignon. It took me an hour to flute the mushroom caps and peel those pearl onions. Ugh!”

“I was wondering whether perhaps it had been a set up in order to get me to wash the floor,” teased Benedict. “It was seriously overdue for a thorough cleaning.”

“Never! You may be messy, but you’re very clean. Your floors are always spotless. I could eat off of them.”

“For fucks sake! Why didn’t you say so before! I could have scooped the stew up off the floor and…”

“I didn’t mean it literally, wise ass.”

“The look on your face would have been priceless had I the bollocks to actually do something like that.”

“That’s very true,” laughed Donna as she ate some of the mashed potatoes. “I see we’re having champagne, so what are we celebrating?”

“I got a call from my agent this afternoon. They want me to play David Scott-Fowler in _After the Dance_. John expects to receive the formal offer tomorrow.”

“Oh, Benedict, that’s wonderful news; and it didn't take too long for them to call you back! Congratulations! I know how much you wanted that part. Did you tell Wanda and Tim yet?”

“No. Not until after the negotiations are complete, and I’ve signed the contract.”

“I would think you’re dying to share the news with them.”

“Believe me, I am. It’s just that sometimes things fall apart during negotiations; so I like to play it close to the vest. You’re the only one who knows besides John, of course.”

Donna raised her glass of champagne to Benedict and smiled widely at him.

“I predict that 2010 is going to be a very successful year for you, Ben Honey.  A hit TV show and a critically-acclaimed, starring role in a play at the National!  I couldn't be prouder of you!”

“From your mouth to God’s ears, Sweetheart.”

The two lovers touched glasses and drank deeply. Little did Benedict Cumberbatch know just how accurate Donna Saint James’ prediction would come to be.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I have seen some online photos of Benedict and Olivia where she was surprisingly labeled as “guest” even though they had been together for a good number of years at the time. She also wasn’t in all the photos with him.
> 
> 2\. I decided to make Donna jealous about the photos, to shake things up a bit. I don't like things running too smoothly with the characters because we all have our faults. I had Benedict act like a prick in the previous chapter, and now I felt it was Donna's turn to show another side of herself - one that she doesn't even like. She finds herself conflicted about her feelings and it causes her some inner turmoil. Deep down inside she knows she shouldn't act like that, but can't help how she feels and it makes her angry with herself. I had Carly call her out on it as a way of helping Donna accept and come to terms with it. 
> 
> 3\. I don't know how the various professional news service photographers work. This is just my take on them.
> 
> 4\. The late Robert B. Parker is and remains one of my favorite authors of all time. He was an American author from Boston, who was famous for penning the Spenser series of detective novels, which are all set in Boston.


	117. Chapter 117

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’re going to time jump to early November 2009. Benedict takes part in the supporting cast auditions for After the Dance. Wanda and Timothy prepare to receive a dinner guest. 
> 
> Note: I’ll be using *********************** to indicate things happening at the same time.

 

Benedict Cumberbatch sat on a hard plastic chair at a round table in an audition room at the Royal National Theatre surrounded by the Director, Casting Director, Producer, a video technician and various assistants of the 2010 revival of _After the Dance_. Benedict had been called back twice after his initial audition and had been over the moon to find out that he had won the starring role of David Scott-Fowler. The production was set to begin rehearsals as soon as _Sherlock_ filming wrapped and would run from June through August of the following year in the Royal National’s Lyttleton theatre.

After being cast, Benedict had been asked to participate in the running of auditions for the roles of Joan Scott-Fowler, his wife; and Helen Banner, the woman who comes in between them. The process consisted of the director and casting director weeding through all the possible candidates, which had turned into a lengthy process. Once they had narrowed down the list to the top six contenders, they had invited Benedict to come in to read the lines for a scene with the actresses in order to see if they had chemistry and would work well together. Benedict was encouraged to give his input after the women had left the theatre as they all sat in the audition room, viewing and subsequently dissecting the video tape that had been shot of each audition.

Casting the part of Joan had been a simple process with Nancy Carroll being cast after only one call back. She and Benedict had shown to have instant on stage chemistry, and he had felt very comfortable with her. The lines had flowed between them naturally, and the decision to cast her had been a unanimous one. Unfortunately, finding the right actress to portray Helen was proving to be a challenge. Today they were doing the final callbacks with the top six contenders. It was decided that the first girl was too old to play Helen; the second clearly had no chemistry with Benedict and the third was still in the running after a very spirited debate between them. The Producer and the Casting Director liked the young woman; but Benedict and the Director were less than thrilled.   It was decided that she remain in the pool of contenders whilst they auditioned the final three.

Thea Sharrock, the Director, had called for a formal lunch break after the unproductive morning rather than sending out for food and working through. Benedict’s day had started at eight o’clock; so by now he found himself famished. Rather than dining in one of the National’s all-day restaurants or going to one of the local places to get a bite, he walked over the Millennium Bridge and across to Paternoster Square where Carldonn Creative Catering was located.

The bell above the shop door tinkled merrily as Benedict pushed it open. He entered the store to find it nearly empty. One man was being served by Emily, who was packing his order in a white paper bag that was emblazoned with the Carldonn logo and slogan. She glanced up and gave Benedict a shy smile before returning to her task. Donna, who had been at the till ringing up a purchase for another customer, smiled brightly at Benedict as she handed the customer her change and bid her a nice day. Then she stood back as Emily took her turn at the till to complete the remaining customer’s transaction.

As soon as they were alone, Benedict approached the counter and smiled at the two women.

“Good afternoon, Ladies. How’s business been today? I hope you have some food left for a hungry customer.”

“Hi Uncle Ben!” chirped Emily. “You picked a good time to come in. We just had a huge crowd in here!”

“She means we had more than five people in here at the same time,” laughed Donna. “To what do we owe this pleasure?”

“Thea called for a break; so I don’t have to be back until two. I thought I’d pop over and get something.”

“We don’t have a lot left,” lamented Emily. “There was an American tour group that came in right at noon and just about cleaned us out.”

“Which is a good thing yes?”

“It’s good for business, but not so good for hungry customers looking for a wide selection to choose from,” replied Emily. “I think we only have one or two types of sarnies left.”

“If you don’t like what’s in the case, I’m sure we can rustle up something to your liking,” said Donna with a wide smile. “So, tell me - what’s your pleasure, Sir?”

Benedict bent down and perused the contents of the display case while biting his lower lip. Then he straightened up and raised an eyebrow at Donna.

“Hmmm…I think I’ll start with a kiss from my favorite Carldonn employee.”

“Excellent choice, Sir!” exclaimed Donna. “And as our slogan promises: lip smackin’ satisfaction,” she added with a wink.

Benedict felt butterflies in his stomach as she came out from behind the counter to hug him tightly and kiss him fervently. He had been day dreaming of snogging her on his walk over and returned the kisses with equal passion.

“God, how I missed you,” murmured Benedict in between kisses.

“That makes two of us,” breathed Donna. She planted another searing kiss on his lips that made him pull her tightly against him.

“Ahem.”

“Shit. I forgot Emmy was here,” whispered Benedict as they quickly broke the kiss upon hearing Emily loudly clear her throat in the background.

The couple awkwardly moved apart while Emily tried in vain to suppress a giggle. Benedict side-eyed Donna and smiled smugly.

“Ah, now that is what I call lip smackin’ satisfaction,” snickered Benedict.

“Shall I go in the back and leave you two love birds alone?”

Donna’s face momentarily flushed. “Of course not!”

“Thank you, Emmy. That would be lovely of you,” said Benedict at the same time.

The couple stared at each other and then dissolved into peals of laughter.

“So which is it then?” asked a confused Emily. “Do you fancy some privacy or not?”

“You’ll have to excuse our randy behaviour, Emmy. Donna and I haven’t seen that much of each other this week.”

“It’s true,” agreed Donna sadly. “Our schedules haven’t been in sync much lately, so it’s been a challenge to carve out some time to spend together.”

“If you don’t need me up here, I’ve got to place the coffee and tea orders,” said Emily. “Just buzz me on the intercom if you need me.”

Donna surveyed the remaining sandwiches and salads in the display case.

“You’re right. There’s not much left; so I think we’ll close up shop early today. Do we have any soup left?”

“I just sold the last of it,” replied Emily. “The bread and butter pudding is gone as well. Heather came up and cleaned out the tray because she was feeling peckish.”

“Fancy that,” quipped Benedict. “Heather felt peckish.”

“Go ahead and place your orders, Emmy. I’ll take care of anyone who wanders in,” said Donna.

“The we can pick up where we left off,” whispered Benedict. “I’m desperately in need of a good snogging.”

Emily came out from behind the counter and hesitated before the door leading to the back.  “I hope Carly’s done dressing down…I mean speaking with Heather.”

“That makes two of us, Emmy. It sounds pretty quiet. I think it’s safe to go back there.”

“I’ll see you on Sunday then, Uncle Ben.”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot. Thanks for the reminder.”

“Now, you two behave yourselves,” giggled Emily. “Or at least lower the shade and lock the door if you’re going to snog each other. It wouldn’t look right for the customers to catch you in the act,” she teased, pushing the door to the back open. She paused to listen. “Do you hear that?”

Donna frowned worriedly. “Hear what? I don’t hear anything?”

Emily smiled. “That’s what I mean. All’s quiet! Cheers, Uncle Ben!”

Benedict nodded. “Cheers.”

When the door swung shut behind Emily, Benedict fixed Donna with a raised eyebrow.

“So, trouble in paradise already?”

Donna sighed. “Everything is fine as long as Heather’s doing the books in the back office. The trouble begins whenever we need her to come out here to help out in the store. It’s like rolling out a loose cannon. We never know what she’s going to say to the customers!”

“I do think I warned you against hiring her,” said Benedict gently. “What did she do to warrant a dressing down from Carly? It must have been pretty bad if her biggest supporter turned on her,” he chuckled.

“It was,” moaned Donna heading back around the counter. “An overweight man came in and ordered the cheesesteak and a chocolate whoopie pie from Heather, and she took it upon herself to try and convince him to choose healthier options to our horror.  And, of course, she did this in front of other customers!”

“Christ,” muttered Benedict in disbelief.

“Carly was so angry I thought she was going to fire her on the spot.”

“I would have sacked the little cow without question, but then I never would have hired her in the first place.”

“Duly noted. As you may recall, I wasn’t thrilled with her in the first place.”

“Then you caved in due to peer pressure from your sister and former bookkeeper.”

“I also couldn’t make an argument against Heather’s credentials or qualifications.”

“I could have.”

“I have no doubt that you would have made a very good argument, but you weren’t here at the time.”

Benedict leaned against the edge of the counter and folded his arms. “As you were then.”

“Anyway, Carly was starting to hyperventilate, so I sent her in the back to cool off and Heather over to Paul’s to get me a peach iced tea and Gourmandise Chocolat. Then I called Emmy and Karl up here to help me out.”

Benedict held up a hand.  "Wait just a minute.  I want to make sure I heard you correctly.  You sent Heather over to your competitor for a drink and a pastry when you have an array of cold drinks and sweets right here to choose from?"

Donna smiled shyly at him. “Yes, you heard correctly.”

“Bloody hell! I love you, Donna; but have I told you that you’re utterly crackers? Why in heavens name would you do that?”

“There was a method to my madness, Ben. First of all, it got Heather away from the remaining customers. Secondly, I happen to like Paul’s peach iced tea and their Gourmandise Chocolat reminds me of a pastry I used to get at the French bakery in Epcot called a Sacristan. It was the perfect excuse to treat myself.”

“What exactly is a Gourmandise Chocolat?”

“It’s a long, thin pastry made from croissant dough that’s filled with custard and chocolate chips.”

Benedict smacked his lips. “That sounds right up my street.”

“Oh, it is.”

“Have you eaten it yet?”

“No. When have I had the time?”

“Brilliant! How about sharing it with me then? I can take half back with me for tea later on.”

“Since I’m such a kind and loving girlfriend, I’ll give you the whole thing. I can always send Heather over for another should they start up again.”

“Thank you. I like how you combined being a referee with procuring a snack for yourself. That showed real initiative on your part, Love. Well done you.”

“Separating them in that way served as a time out of sorts. I couldn’t very well have sent them to sit in the corner – especially when Carly wasn’t in the wrong.”

“Heather has a knack for always managing to cock things up with that big mouth of hers, bless her. How did the man take her suggestion, which I’m sure was not very subtle or tactful.”

“There was nothing subtle or even remotely tactful about her approach, Benedict. He was visibly pissed off and left. I saw him walk across to Paul’s, where I’m sure he was greeted warmly and not judged by what he ordered.”

“Shit.”

“When they were giving out tact, Heather skipped the line completely.”

“Yes, it appears she got on the cheek line several times,” mused Benedict. “So is she working out in spite of her loose tongue?”

Donna nodded. “Yes, she is. As long as we can keep her in the back, she’s actually doing a fantastic job for us.”

“I really need to eat soon, Donna, if I’m going to eat at all. I don’t have that much time left,” declared Benedict, looking at the cupcake clock.

“Do any either of these sandwiches appeal to you?”

“Erm…tell me about that cheesesteak.”

“It’s thinly sliced rib eye steak with a sharp cheddar cheese sauce piled high on a baguette with sautéed onions. Traditionally, it’s supposed to be Cheez Whiz, which is a thick, processed American cheese sauce, but we can’t get it here. Besides, I’m not a fan of American cheese, so no loss as far as I’m concerned.”

“How unpatriotic of you, Miss Saint James.”

“Have you ever eaten it?”

“I can’t say that I have. Why don’t you care for it?”

“It's the default cheese on American fast food burgers.  I bet you've come across the horrid stuff. I’ve always found American cheese to be very salty. Some of the manufacturers use a mixture of oil and milk rather than all milk. My preference is to use a nice sharp, English cheddar for the cheese sauce.”

“So, this is something new you’re trying out yes?”

“Yep. Today was our salute to Philadelphia Day. We thought we’d add some American regional cuisine to our offerings so we’ll stand out from Paul’s – which by the way was Emmy’s idea.”

“Is it working?”

“It’s working out very well. We’ve been selling out of our specials every day since we started doing this. We make a sandwich, a soup and a dessert.”

“I’d really fancy trying the cheesesteak then.”

“Make yourself at home on the ledge, and I’ll go in the back and ask Maria to make you one.”

“I really don’t have all that much time to wait around. Is that one chicken?” Benedict asked pointing to one of the sandwiches in the case.

Donna nodded. “Yes, that one has grilled chicken, roasted red peppers, fresh mozzarella, arugula and pesto spread on an olive roll.”

“I’ll have that then. Can I also please have a large…what’s the coffee of the day?”

“Amaretto – it’s just flavoring though – there’s no liquor in it.”

“I’ll try that as well. Now, tell me – what exactly is a whoopie pie?”

“There’s not much to tell as we’re out of them.”

“Humour me. I’m curious for next time.”

“A whoopie pie consists of round discs of a moist chocolate cake with vanilla marshmallow buttercream sandwiched in between. The things are the size of your fist. We used to always get them whenever we went to Lancaster County in Pennsylvania. It’s a specialty of the area.”

“That’s too bad. You know what a tart I am for sweets, and that sounded very sweet indeed. I guess I can make do with just that chocolate pastry for tea.”

“I’ve got some double chocolate chip cookies if you’re interested.”

“Mmm…that may be a bit too much chocolate – even for me.”

Donna cut the sandwich in half and plated it for Benedict. He took a large bite and sat on the ledge in front of the large picture window that looked out on Paternoster Square while she prepared his coffee.

“This is a very tasty sandwich. I just wish you had room for some sort of seating in here.”

“Maybe one day we’ll have the opportunity to expand.”

“If you ever open another location, might I suggest Hampstead?”

“I’ll definitely keep Hampstead in mind,” said Donna, bringing Benedict his coffee and sitting on the ledge beside him. “It’s such a treat to have you here, Honey. I thought you guys usually have food brought in to save time or eat in one of the local places.”

“Not today,” said Benedict around a mouthful of sandwich. “Thea decided we all needed a proper lunch break, bless her; so she gave us an hour and a half to do as we pleased.”

“I haven’t met Thea, but I like her already. She’s very sensible to call for a lunch break.”

“I was over the moon when she suggested it. I needed to get out of there for a change of scenery, not to mention that I was missing the fuck out of you and badly needed to see you.”

“I’ve been missing you terribly as well, Benedict. I can’t tell you how happy I was to see you walk in here today and knowing that you chose to spend your precious little free time with me makes it all that more special.”

“You were the first thing that came to mind when Thea called for the break.”

“So, how are the auditions going? Have you found the right person to play Helen yet?”

Benedict shook his head as he drank some of the coffee. “Yes and no. None of us were especially keen on this morning’s group. Two were eliminated immediately and the remaining girl is a strong possibility, yet she lacks a couple of the things we were searching for. Hopefully, Helen will be in this afternoon’s group, and this one will be cast as her understudy.”

“I’ve always wondered what the process is. Do you interview them first?”

“The candidate comes in and takes a seat at our round table. Then we make small talk to put her at ease. Once she seems comfortable with us, Thea or one of the others will ask her some additional questions they may have neglected to ask during the first round of auditions. I’ll have a copy of her CV, so I might ask a question or two that comes to mind. After everyone’s satisfied, I get up and perform a scene with her in front of the group, which is filmed so we can watch and review it once she’s left.”

“Do you know by the end of the scene if the person is going to work out?”

“I know as soon as we start running the lines. It either clicks or it doesn’t.”

“Well, I hope you find the right girl this afternoon.”

“That makes the lot of us.”

“So, what’s happening on Sunday?”

“Oh, it’s Derrick’s birthday; so Mum’s making him a special lunch.”

“When were you going to tell me or am I not invited?”

Benedict’s cheeks reddened as he finished the sandwich. “Of course you’re invited! I keep meaning to tell you, but keep forgetting. We haven’t had much time together recently; and when we are together, family obligations aren’t first and foremost on my mind.” He looked at Donna meaningfully.

_Making love is first and foremost on his mind when we’re together lately. And I won’t lie - it’s my priority as well._

“I do have a cellphone and email.”

_I also predict that I’m about to be treated to one of his cute little nose crinkles and that dimpled smile._

Benedict crinkled his nose at her and gave her the lopsided smile she loved so much.

_Right on cue._

“Sorry, Sweetheart. My New Year’s resolution will be to endeavor to do better when it comes to informing you of social functions that we’ve been invited to.”

“Benedict, what you need is a PA to help you keep track of these things.”

“I don’t need a PA,” scoffed Benedict, draining his paper cup of coffee. “I’m not that sort of actor who needs someone to look after him all the time. I can barely afford to pay to keep John and Karon. Luckily, John just gets a percentage of what I earn. Karon charges a monthly fee – all that snark doesn’t come free you know.”

“I’m not talking about hiring someone full time, Honey. You need someone who can set up a calendar for you, listing all your work and social commitments. Then they can maintain it for you as you get more to add on and inform you of any conflicts.”

“Are you volunteering for the job?” asked Benedict with a raised eyebrow.

“Would you like some more coffee?”

“Yeah, I’d love one to take away with me; and don’t forget my gourmet chocolate custard thingy. Erm…I notice that you haven’t answered my question. Do you fancy taking on the job as my part time PA? I can pay you a monthly stipend for keeping track of my calendar.”

“Tell you what,” said Donna taking his paper cup and going behind the counter to refill it. “I have a much better idea. I already have a calendar program on my PC, which I use all the time. I’ll just make one up for you. It won’t take long. Email me a list of what you have coming up, and I’ll fill it in for you. Then you can maintain it.”   She snapped a lid on the cup and returned it to him along with a bag containing the pastry. “Think of it as my gift of instant organization.”

“That’s genius! Thank you so much, Darling,” said Benedict, kissing her soundly on the lips. “I've always been so envious as to how you so effortlessly keep track of everything. I really do appreciate it.”

“Before you go, I was wondering if you’ve heard back from the flooring store about the replacements for the tiles I cracked.”

“Funny you should mention it. I was going to ask you to do me a favour next week concerning just that.”

“Sure. Name it.”

“As you know, I’ll be on location filming Van Gogh…”

_No, I didn’t know that; but now I do. I’m so glad he’s going to let me set up that calendar for him – even though I doubt he’ll maintain it for more than a week. I wonder if that would be something Emily might be interested in taking on? She was asking for more things to do the other day when she was on a break from school._

“… so I’m not going to be around. I found a message on my mobile whilst I was walking over here from the store saying that the tiles are done and can be replaced next week. They can send someone around Wednesday afternoon. Can you let him in and hang around until the job’s done? It shouldn’t be more than half an hour tops.”

Donna nodded. “I should be able to be there; but in the off chance that my editor comes up with one of his famous last minute meetings, I suggest you get a backup in place though the odds of it are very small.”

“I’ll ask Mum or Dad. I plan on popping over there tonight for dinner, provided the auditions don’t run too long. Do you have any plans?”

_Please say yes because if you don’t I’ll have to invite you to join us, and that’s not part of my plan. I need to be alone with Mum and Dad tonight._

“As a matter of fact, I do. I’ve got to do my review tonight, so I have enough time to write it up in time for Sunday’s paper. Why don’t you postpone your dinner with your parents and come along with me if you get done early enough? The reservation is for seven."

“Who’s going with you?”

“Carly, Emily, Heather…”

“Heather? Blimey! Have you lost your bloody mind, Donna?”

“This is the only time when Heather’s loose tongue proves to be an invaluable asset. She’s got a very well-developed palate and sugar coats nothing when it comes to reviewing food.”

Donna could see that Benedict was seriously thinking it over. “It’ll be just the four of you then?”

“Nope. Karl and Frederick are coming along, so there will be six of us.”

Benedict momentarily scowled at her. “Frederick? Who is Frederick? I’ve never heard you make mention of a Frederick.”

“Of course you have, Ben. You even know him.”

“I can’t for the life of me place someone named Frederick…”

“Frederick’s been our server at the Tate Modern countless times!”

Benedict appeared startled by the revelation.

“That bloody wanker? The one who makes it his life’s mission to take the piss whenever I have to choose a motherfucking wine?”

“Yep. That Frederick. Only he isn’t a wanker, and I did tell you about my trying to convince him to join my review team.”

“You have a review _team_?” Benedict looked flabbergasted by Donna’s statement. “This is the first I’m hearing about this.”

“No. It isn’t.”

“Who is on this team?”

“The Carldonn staff of course: Carly, Maria, George, Karl, Heather and Emily. Some of my co-workers at the Tribune: Trina, Stan, Mollie and Davey. Carly’s husband, Steve, of course. Sometimes I ask James and Hattie to come along. Adam and Alice asked to be on the team…”

“Wait. You’re telling me that my best friend and his wife asked to be on this team? Adam’s never mentioned it to me.”

“This is provided they can get a sitter. And of course, there are your parents...”

“Mum and Dad are on your team as well?”

Donna nodded. “They love to come along, so I try to include them whenever possible. Both of them have very sensitive palates, so now I know where you get yours from. It’s in the genes. Just think of the great palates our kids will have!”

“For fucks sake. I had no idea you had such an extensive team.”

“Well, I’ve got to have a pool to draw on in case someone can’t make it. I usually make it a habit to have a total of six, so I can have a decent sampling of the various dishes. I can do it alone or with a smaller group if I have to; but six seems to be the perfect number.”

“And you invited that bloody wanker waiter to join in?”

“Frederick is his name, and yes; I did.”

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck. “Christ, I don’t recall your telling me any of this. Where is my head these days?”

_I can answer my own question. I’m preoccupied with making sure my proposal plans are perfect and with my upcoming projects. I must make it a point to pay closer attention to what Donna’s telling me. It’s fucking rude of me to go on auto-pilot when she’s speaking to me. She certainly doesn’t do it to me._

“I think you automatically tune me out whenever I mention Frederick’s name,” teased Donna.

“That might be,” Benedict admitted grudgingly. “And I shouldn’t do that to you. It’s rude and inexcusable. Please accept my apology.”

“I also think you’ve got a lot on your plate right now, so my review team isn’t fore most on your mind.”

“Now that I think about it, the wank – Frederick - did mention it the night we ran into each other in Hampstead in front of the liquor store. However, he’s never been present when I’ve been at the reviews. I guess I lucked out those nights.”

“This week will be Frederick’s first review, which is why you haven’t encountered him yet. Not to mention you’ve been so busy lately, you haven’t had time to come on the reviews in quite a while.”

“You’re right. It’s been an age since I’ve done one with you. I miss helping you out.”

“And I miss having you along. However, I do like to keep you all to myself whenever we do go out for dinner together. I’m selfish that way.”

“Since you have this vast pool to draw on, does this mean that I’m no longer on your review team?”

“Of course not! You’re my most valued and trusted reviewer. As soon as your schedule calms down, you can start coming along again. And I’ll also make sure that we do a few with just the two of us – like we used to.”

“What about the team of six? I hardly constitute a team.”

“Sometimes I need to revisit a place for various reasons; so that’s when you and I would go as a couple. It looks suspicious if I show up with another group in the same week. If I bring just you, it looks like I was so impressed that I had to bring along my boyfriend to try it.”

“Or you’re hoping they won’t remember you.”

“That’s the idea. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t.”

“That sounds brilliant. I would hate to think that I’d been replaced by that wank – person - guy.”

“The guy’s name is Frederick, and he’s also a very valuable member of my team. The man knows his food and drink.”

“And he never fails to keep reminding me of that.”

“He also has a very well-developed palate, which is crucial to reviewing.”

“Jolly good for him then.”

“You’re jealous of his palate.”

“No, I’m not. I’m jealous of his ability to select wines and that he fancies showing me up whenever possible.”

“I’ve offered to give you a crash course on wines, but you never want to take me up on it.”

“I really should. I just need to carve out some time.”

“Are you sure I can’t tempt you into changing your plans? We’re trying the Cinnamon Club. They advertise themselves as serving contemporary Indian cuisine.”

“Have we been there?”

“No, but James has and highly recommends it. He’s never steered me wrong with one of his restaurant recommendations. The Cinnamon Club is in the old Westminster Library. It’s very close to Westminster Abbey. The desserts sound very interesting. I can’t wait to try the spiced pumpkin cake with popcorn gelato and the green cardamom crème brulee with rose petal biscotti.”

“As tempting as it sounds; when faced with the prospect of sharing a meal with both Frederick _and_ Heather, you can definitely count me out.”

“I promise you’ll have a very interesting and exciting evening, filled with good food and even better company.”

“Oh, I have no doubt. However, I can live without that kind of excitement. Besides, I really do have to stop by Mum and Dad’s. It’s been an age since I’ve seen them.”

“I totally understand, Honey.”

“I’ve got to be off now. Thanks for lunch. It was delicious. I’ll ring you later. Love you,” said Benedict in a rush, kissing her again.

“Love you, too. Good luck with the remaining audition!”

 

 

“Well, I do think we’ve found our Helen Banner!” announced Thea Sharrock with a huge smile after the group had finished reviewing the audition tape.

“Faye Castelow is perfect as our little waif-like homewrecker,” agreed Rose, the casting director. “My suggestion is to cast Penelope Breckinridge as the understudy.

“I think Faye’s a brilliant fit with Benedict,” added Clive, the Executive Producer. “And she’s the right age.”

“What do you think, Benedict?” asked Thea. “You’ve been awfully quiet.”

“Oh, I totally agree that Faye should be cast as Helen. It felt right from the minute we started running the lines.”

“We’ve got one more audition to run,” Rose reminded the group. “We’re obligated to see her. Besides, she may be even better.”

“That’s hard to imagine that she could trump Faye’s performance,” quipped Thea. “But we might as well. We have nothing to lose.”

“I’m game,” said Benedict.

Thea beckoned to her assistant. “Annie, can you please go to reception and ask our final candidate to join us? Ben, here’s a copy of her CV in case you’ve got questions.”

Benedict quickly reviewed the copy of the CV that Thea handed him as he sipped from the large paper cup of builder’s tea that had been sent out for.

_She graduated from Guildhall, which is one of the finest acting schools in London.   Plenty of experience doing adverts and voice over work. I see she’s had a recurring role in East Enders and did several stints at the Globe. She’s just finished a gig at the Royal Court. Too bad I didn’t get to see that play. All in all, she doesn’t look bad on paper at all. Now to see what real life brings us…  
_

The door to the rehearsal room opened to reveal Annie, who stepped aside to allow the final candidate to enter the room. Not only was she clad in vintage clothing from the 1920’s but her curly, chin-length, red hair had been styled from that time period as well. The woman, who appeared to be the same age as Benedict, flashed a brilliant white smile at them.

“Good Afternoon Everyone, I’m Jessica DeHaviland.”

 

******************************************************

 

Timothy Carlton returned home after spending the afternoon at the Garrick Club to find his wife busy paring parsnips in the kitchen of their Kensington flat. There was a large bowl filled with already-pared potatoes, rainbow carrots and white onions that had all been cut into bite-sized pieces. Freshly-washed tarragon and parsley were laid out on a clean tea towel to dry, and Wanda’s favourite roasting pan was set on the counter near the preheating oven. Inside it rested a large roasting chicken that had been rubbed with a generous amount of softened butter and sprinkled with salt and white pepper.

“You certainly appear to be the epitome of industriousness,” quipped Timothy as he surveyed the goings on.

“That I am,” laughed Wanda. “I’ve been a right busy little bee for most of the afternoon. How was your day?”

“Excellent! It was good to have a proper catch up with Edward again. He and Audrey just got back from their Mediterranean cruise, which they highly recommend.”

“It’s such a shame those cruises are so pricey,” lamented Wanda. “I wouldn’t mind taking one – especially one that stops at several ports of call.”

“Their ship stopped everywhere – Greece, France, Italy. Edward couldn’t stop raving about it. He said the accommodations, food and service were just impeccable.”

“What did you have for lunch?”

“Today’s luncheon special was sautéed Dover Sole with a brown shrimp risotto and steamed haricot verts with a lemon-shallot dressing, which was just delicious. Then we retired to the card room for a few hands of pinochle, after which we took tea in the salon.”

“Well, it certainly sounds as if you had a full day. Did you win?”

Timothy ignored the question and picked up the bottle of chilled white wine that sat on the countertop beside the roasting pan. “Is this for drinking or cooking?”

_He’s studiously ignoring my question, which means he must have lost or he would be boasting. My husband is a sore loser even though they play for small stakes._

“Both,” replied Wanda. “I was going to use it for cooking and pour myself a glass once I get the bird in the oven.”

“Is there enough for two?”

“Absolutely.”

“How about if I pour us a glass now then?”

“Please do. I haven’t had any time for lunch, so if you could give me one of those yoghurts I’ve got stashed behind the sour cream, I’d appreciate it.”

Timothy grimaced. “Wine and yoghurt? What an awful combination that!”

“I need the calcium to keep my bones strong. Wine also has hidden health benefits you know.  It's good for the heart.”

“Well, I’m all for that then.” Timothy opened the door to the refrigerator and pushed the container of sour cream aside. “Which flavour yoghurt do you fancy? You’ve got strawberry, raspberry and …bloody hell – chocolate hazelnut crunch!  Chocolate yoghurt?”

“Yes. Chocolate yoghurt. Doesn’t that sound scrumptious?”

“Not especially. To be frank, it sounds rather awful.”

Wanda sighed. “It’s not as bad as you think, Tim. I try and convince myself that it’s scrumptious.”

“Did you just say you have to convince yourself?”

“I’ve never really fancied yoghurt – except for the frozen kind. My doctor tells me by eating yoghurt regularly, I won’t wind up with a Dowager’s hump one day. Besides, chocolate and wine go together, so why the hell not?”

“I could list several reasons,” chuckled Timothy as he removed the lid from the yoghurt cup and brought it over to Wanda. He gave her a gentle kiss on the lips. “I’m going to venture a wild guess that we’re having company for dinner.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Well, that chicken is a lot larger than what you normally roast for just the two of us.”

“I might fancy some leftovers for chicken salad tomorrow.”

“Well, normally, I would buy that; but I also spied a banoffee pie in the fridge. A homemade banoffee pie, not one from Borough Market. Your roast chicken and banoffee pie can only mean one thing: that our table will be graced by our son’s presence tonight.”

Wanda smiled. “You are correct. Benedict called to say that it looks as if the auditions will be over earlier than expected and that he was going to come around for a catch up.”

Timothy uncorked the wine and poured two glasses. “Is Donna coming as well?”

“No. Ben said she had a restaurant review to do tonight.”

“That’s odd. I would think he would want to go along with her,” mused Timothy, setting a glass of wine close to Wanda’s elbow.

“That’s what I said; but he was quite adamant that he wanted to spend some time with us alone. Ben also said he had news to share with us that Donna couldn’t be privy to.”

Timothy looked pensive as Wanda cut the parsnips into bite-sized pieces and added them to her bowl. Then she added the vegetables to the roasting pan and seasoned them with salt and pepper. Finally, she added sprigs of fresh tarragon and parsley to the cavity of the chicken.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking, Wanda?”

“Probably, but dare do I voice it aloud? We’ve waited so long for him to come to us…I just don’t want to jinx it.”

Timothy raised an eyebrow at his wife. “Since when did you become superstitious?”

“Since I realized that this might actually be what we’ve been waiting to hear all this time.”

“Are you referring to the culmination of the Plan, Commander?”

“I so don’t want to be disappointed, Tim; and yet I can’t think of anything else Ben could want to tell us that would not include Donna. Can you please give me a hand with the roaster?”

Timothy held up his hand. “Okay then. I’ll voice it. I think Ben is coming over to tell us he plans to propose to Donna.”

Timothy tented the pan with the sheet of tinfoil Wanda had set out and opened the oven door. He slid the heavy pan inside and shut the door. The words hung between them in silence as Wanda went to the sink to wash and dry her hands.

“I can’t think of any other news he would have to share with us that he wouldn’t want to share with Donna as well,” said Wanda as she set the oven timer.

“Nor can I,” agreed Timothy, handing Wanda her glass of wine. “What shall we drink to then, Commander?”

Wanda smiled broadly at her husband. “To the culmination of the Plan, of course, Agent Carlton.”

 

 

Benedict Cumberbatch was feeling very lucky that he got a seat on the tube during rush hour for his ride to Kensington High Street. He had helped himself to a free copy of the London Evening Standard, which he had planned to read during the thirty minute journey. However, Benedict found himself unable to concentrate as the events of the afternoon kept intruding into his thoughts:

 

After Jessica DeHaviland’s audition, the production team had unanimously agreed that the role of Helen should be offered to Faye Castelow with Jessica DeHaviland offered the role as Faye’s understudy in addition to a minor supporting role. Happy and relieved that his part in the casting process was complete, Benedict had crossed the Hungerford Bridge so he could take the Circle Line at Embankment Station in order to avoid changing trains.

Benedict had decided to ring Donna as he walked across the bridge to tell her the good news. She had answered immediately. **  
**

**_“Hello there, handsome!”_ **

“Hi! If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were anxiously awaiting my call.”

_**“I saw it was you on my caller ID, so I knew it was safe to answer.”** _

“Screening your calls again? Who are you avoiding as if I couldn’t guess?”

**_“My parents have been calling all day about my trip. The closer I’m getting to the departure date, the more frequent the calls.”_  
**

“What do they want?” **  
**

_**“Oh, the usual: Do I want my apartment cleaned before I arrive? What should they stock my refrigerator and pantry with? Are there any plays that I want to see while I’m in town? Which days will I be free to visit with the rest of the family? Will I have time to take a side trip with them to Atlantic City? Should they arrange to have the outside of the townhouse decorated for Christmas before Carly and I arrive? I had no idea they had it decorated for Thanksgiving, but they explained it makes the house looked occupied so I couldn’t find fault with that logic. However, they’re starting to drive me nuts, Benedict! I told them that I’ve already made arrangements to have the place freshened up, and I haven’t given much thought to stocking my kitchen. It’s not like I’m going to be doing any real cooking during my visit.”** _

“Have they been calling Carly as well?”

_**"Of course!"** _

“And how does she handle them?”

**_“She just lets them do whatever they want. Carly says it’s easier that way and saves her the trouble of having to do all that stuff herself.”  
_ **

“Erm…at the risk of irritating you, I actually think that was rather nice of your parents to offer to do all that for you and Carly. Knowing what I do about your parents, I think their offer is sincere; and I also think Carly was right to take them up on it.”

_**"Hey! Whose side are you on, Mr. Cumberbatch?"** _

“Yours, of course; but not this time. Your parents know you’re busy with work and are just trying to be make things easier for you. I don’t think they’re being out of line.”

There was silence for a good minute as Donna pondered his words.

**_“I suppose you make a good point, Benedict.”_ **

“Of course I do. Now, do the right thing and email them back to thank them for their kind offer. Then send them a list of what to stock your kitchen with. I'm sure you'll be needing the usual staples such as milk, bread, butter and eggs.  By emailing your parents, you don’t have to talk to them if you don’t want to; but yet you’ve responded so they won’t think you’re being rude. I want you to promise me that you’ll do this as soon as I ring off. ”

“ ** _You know, that’s actually a great idea. I promise I will do just that. So what happened this afternoon?”  
_**

“I’m chuffed to say that we found someone for the role of Helen, so the next step is for Rose to contact her agent so things will start to move along.”

**_"Why didn't they just offer her the job on the spot?"_ **

 “Because that’s not how it’s done, Love. An offer has to be made through her agent and a contract drawn up and signed. It’ll be a few days before things are finalized.”

_**"Are you done?"** _

“I just left the theatre, and I’m crossing the Hungerford Bridge so I can catch the Circle Line to my parents.”

_**"Did they pick the girl you told me about this morning?"** _

“No. The girl we chose was among this afternoon’s candidates. Her name is Faye Castelow, and she was the second one we saw straight away after the lunch break. She’s utterly perfect to play Helen, and I think we’ll get along splendidly. The minute we began to run the lines, I knew she was the one.”

_**“That’s great news! Though I feel sorry for the last candidate. How did she take the news?”** _

“What do you mean?” ** _  
_**

**_“When they told her she wasn’t needed, I’m assuming she was crushed. Heck, I know I would be.”_ **

“She wasn’t turned away, Donna. On the contrary. We did run her audition, and she turned out to be surprisingly good. Therefore, she’s going to be offered the role as Faye’s understudy along with a smaller supporting role.”

_**“All’s well, that ends well.”** _

“Erm…yeah. You’re right. It’s …it’s all good you know. Yeah. It’s really, really good. Yeah.”

_**“But?”** _

“What do you mean by but? But what?”

**_"I can hear that something in your voice that tells me there’s a catch or something you’re not totally on board with. It’s also very obvious by the number of times you’ve said yeah.”_ **

Benedict chuckled. “Oh, you do know me well, don’t you? It’s nothing really.”

**“But enough to give you pause. Why don’t you just tell me what it is about her that concerns you, Honey. Is this girl so overwhelming beautiful that you’re afraid I’ll be jealous and stalk the production every night?”**

“You’re taking the piss.”

_**“Yep. That I am. Now, out with it. What’s bothering you?”** _

“Erm…Christ, I feel ridiculous for even mentioning this…but…well, she was looking at me a bit oddly all during the interview.” ** _  
_**

**_“What do you mean by oddly? Was she openly flirting with you?”_ **

“It wasn’t what I would call flirting exactly; but every time I’d look up during the pre-audition chat and subsequent Q and A, I’d catch her staring at me…it was as if she knew me.”

_**“That’s not odd! She’s an actress and probably recognizes you from some of your works that she’s seen. Maybe you've been at some of the same auditions. You're always telling me how small the theatre world is.”** _

“Possibly. I mean she was perfectly fine whilst we were running the lines. We had good chemistry, and she really put her heart and soul into it. Did I tell you that she was the only one to show up in 1920’s garb and makeup?”

_**“No. You didn’t. Is that a good thing to show up dressed as if you already had the part?”** _

“Oh, yes! It not only shows that she truly did her homework, but it shows how interested she was in landing the part as well. She came very well prepared. She had read the play from cover-to-cover beforehand.”

_**“There’s nothing wrong with that. So did anything else happen?”** _

“After the audition, she lingered a bit longer than is usual – it was as if she were thinking up things to ask Thea and Rose, who is our casting director. I caught her watching me a few times, which made me feel uncomfortable. I had this strange feeling that she was hanging around in order to ask me something or start up a conversation.”

_**“I take it you didn’t wait to find out if she was going to speak to you.”** _

“I was in a rush to leave; so I just packed up my stuff and left.”

_**“Maybe she thought you were cute and wanted to ask you out.”** _

“You’re taking the piss again.”

_**“No. This time I’m not. I’m going to have to drop by one of your rehearsals and check her out.  I won't have her coming on to you.  She needs to know you're not single.”** _

“You’ll do nothing of the sort!  Don't you bloody trust me to put her in her place should it ever come to that?”

_**“Calm down, Benedict! I really was teasing you again. You’re awfully gullible this afternoon! I would never do such a thing!”** _

“There was one other thing that’s weighing on my mind.”

_**“Go ahead.”** _

“I know I’ve seen her somewhere, but I can’t for the life of me remember where it was. It’s driving me nuts!”

_**“Could it be you both recognized each other from works that you’ve been in or that maybe you two worked together in the same production a while back?”** _

“I’ve never worked with her before – of that I am certain; but I’ve definitely seen her somewhere.”

_**“Hmmm…Ben Honey, I think you’re just a victim of your over-active imagination.”**_    

“You’re probably right. Anyway, I’ll be working with her everyday; so I’m bound to find out sooner or later. If it turns out she’s weird, I’ll have her sacked is all. This is an important role for me, and the last thing I need is to be creeped out by one of my cast mates.” ** _  
_**

**_“Wow! You sounded just like the star of the play.”_ **

“That’s because I am.” ** _  
_**

**_“Don’t let it go to your head.”_ **

“Hardly. I’m blessed to have gotten that role in the first place. Will you be off to dinner soon at the Cinnamon Club then?”

_**“I should be leaving now. Why don’t you come back to my place after dinner and sleep over tonight? I don’t expect to be out much past ten. At least we’ll have a little cuddle time together.”** _

“Most of that time will be spent sleeping I’m afraid. I’m pretty knackered as is.”

**_“I’ll bring you back a dessert to sample; and if that isn’t enough to tempt you, I’ll serve you breakfast in bed tomorrow morning followed by lots of hot sex.”_ **

“As much as it pains me to say this, Darling, I’m going to have to take a rain check. I’m going to need most of tomorrow to do my laundry and pack for my location shoot, not to mention I’ve got a lot of last minute errands to run. Besides we’ll see each other at my parents on Sunday, which reminds me I’ve got to buy a bloody birthday card for Derrek.”

_**“Would you like me to pick one up while I’m out and about tomorrow?”** _

“Yes, please. Derrick’s fond of humourous cards. Wait. No. Maybe…no.”

_**“Well, which is it?”** _

“There’s a Paperchase store just down the street from where I am now. I’ll just pop in there and get a card.”

_**“Okay. If you’re sure.”** _

“Yeah, I am absolutely sure. But wait. I just had a brilliant idea. Why don’t you come up to Hampstead tomorrow morning around eleven? I’ll make sure to do my errands first and pick up lunch at Gail’s on the way back to my flat. I’ll get us some sausage rolls and the goat cheese and leek quiche. Then after we eat, you can keep me company whilst I do my laundry and packing. We might even have time to squeeze in some adult play time.”

_**“Now, that really is a brilliant idea! Especially, the adult play time. I’ll stop at Parliament Hill Farmers Market and get some things so we can cook dinner together. I’m thinking of something simple along the lines of ravioli and pesto sauce so we can cram in extra adult play time after dinner. How does that sound?”** _

“Brilliant! Enjoy your dinner, and I’ll see you tomorrow. Should I still be out when you arrive, just let yourself in with your key.”

_**“Okay. Please give Wanda and Tim my love, and tell them I’ve got a great new restaurant for us to try next week. It’s a Chinese buffet, which I know a lot of people tend to eschew…”** _

“You can rest easy, Sweetheart. Mum and Dad have been known to patronize more than a few Chinese buffets in their day,” chuckled Benedict. “They’ve got one they particularly fancy in Chinatown that they’ve been going to for years.”

Benedict could hear Donna exhale as if she was holding her breath.

_**“Oh, that’s a relief. My parents wouldn’t be caught dead at one of those buffets. They like more adventurous cuisine.”** _

“I’m sure Mum and Dad will do you proud with their inputs. If I had to pick two experienced Chinese buffet aficionados, they would be at the top of my list.”

_**“That’s good to hear. I’m sure we’ll have a lot of fun trying all the dishes. Too bad you’ll be away. I think James and Hattie would probably enjoy it as well, so I’m going to extend an invitation to them as well.”** _

“Might I recommend that you invite Heather to be part of the that night’s review team? I’m sure she'll have plenty to say in between stuffing her face with all that free food.”

_**“That’s mean, Benedict.”** _

“Yeah, it is; but not without justification.”

_**“True.”** _

“Just make sure not to sit near her. I’d also make sure to be very careful when eating fried rice in her presence.”

_**“Thanks for bringing that humiliating moment up again. I’ll be sure to keep that in mind when filling my plate.”** _

“I can’t wait to have some quality time with you tomorrow. I’m feeling very, very sex-starved. I had a hard time minding my hands around you in the store earlier.”

_**“I promise to satisfy your carnal appetite, Ben Honey. I’ve really got to go now. I love you.”** _

“I love you, too, Donna! Cheers!”

 

 

Benedict had crossed the street and walked into the stationery shop. He easily located the greeting card section and was busy browsing the birthday cards suitable for males, when a deep, sultry voice from beside him caused him to jump.

“Hi, Benedict. I see we’re both looking for birthday cards. You’re the last person I expected to bump into here,” purred Jessica DeHaviland.

_That makes two of us,_ thought Benedict Cumberbatch.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Happy Valentine's Day to all my lovely readers!
> 
> 2\. I have no idea how the casting process works for a play, so this is all as I imagine it to be.
> 
> 3\. Does anyone still remember who Jessica DeHavilland was? She first appeared in Chapter 13 - yes, that long ago; but this is important to the story. :-)
> 
> 4\. I was fortunate enough to see a screening of Benedict in After the Dance at the National Theatre Archives, and he was wonderful. Here's hoping one day NT Live will show it in theatres.
> 
> 5\. In this case, Donna's opinion of American cheese does reflect my own. I've never cared for it. My favorite place for Philadelphia Cheesesteaks is Tony Lukes in Philadelphia. 
> 
> 6\. I've eaten dinner at the Cinnamon Club and had the desserts Donna describes. It was one of the best meals I've ever had. The service was also top notch - the manager and staff are extremely friendly and eager to please.


	118. Chapter 118

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Benedict inadvertently receives another piece to the puzzle. Wanda and Timothy receive the news they’ve been longing to hear. 
> 
> Note: I’ll be using *********************** to indicate things happening at the same time.

 

 

Benedict Cumberbatch looked up from the birthday card he had been reading to see Jessica DeHaviland standing beside him.

_For fucks sake! Of all people to run into. Could she have followed me here? No, Benedict. You’re letting your imagination run wild. This is purely coincidental. Also, her voice is so much deeper than it was at the audition._

Jessica flashed her blinding white smile at him.

_She’s definitely had her teeth whitened. Karon suggested I consider getting mine done in the near future, but I would make sure it wasn’t that obvious._

“Hi Jessica. It is a small world, isn’t it? Ha ha! Yeah…erm…I was just on my way to the tube when I remembered that I needed to buy a card for my brother-in-law’s birthday. This seemed as good a place to get one as any.”

_Why am I rambling? I didn’t need to say all that. Time to turn on the mouth filter and hold back on the personal details._

“I’m always in here because my flat’s just a five minute walk down the road.”

_Christ! I’m such a paranoid dick. Jessica didn’t follow me. She lives in the area._

“Paperchase has one of the best greeting card selections in London,” continued Jessica.

Benedict noted she was busy chomping on peppermint-scented gum.

_It’s a good thing she didn’t chew like that at her audition. It reminds me of a cow chewing its cud._

“This is the first time I’ve been in here,” Benedict declared as he hesitantly picked the matching envelope off the card display.

“You won’t be disappointed then. I’m here to get two birthday cards. One for my dad and one for my boyfriend. Can you believe their birthdays are on the same day?”

_Ah, well that’s good to hear. Jessica’s got a boyfriend, so she’s not trying to hit on me. Oh! Wait! I know. She’s trying to find out if she’s going to get the part, which is far worse._

Benedict laughed. “That certainly makes it easy for you to remember them both.”

Jessica nodded. “Yes it does.”

Benedict returned the card he had initially chosen and returned it to the rack. Then he resumed perusing the birthday cards. He suddenly realized that Jessica was just standing beside him and not even looking at the cards. She was intently watching Benedict instead.

“Most of the time, I prefer to give joke cards rather than soppy ones,” declared Benedict, looking up at her whilst trying to appear nonchalant.

“So do I,” agreed Jessica.

“Unless it’s for a romantic occasion. Then the soppier, the better,” Benedict laughed lightly. “Like these over here.”

He anxiously noted that she did not join him in reading over the more sentimental cards. Instead she kept her attention focused on him and what he was doing.

_What in the fuck is wrong with this one? She’s doing it again. I should have known something wasn’t right by the way she kept looking at me from the minute she walked into the audition room. Let me just pick a bloody card and get the hell out of here. The first thing I’m going to do is find a place where I can ring up Thea and tell her not to make this one any offers!  
_

Jessica cleared her throat and smiled bashfully at Benedict, as she picked up a card at random. She was suddenly painfully aware that she had been staring, and Benedict looked as if he was going to bolt from the store.

“Forgive me for staring, but can I ask you something, Benedict?”

“Erm…yeah…sure.”

_Here it comes. Do you know if I’m going to be offered the role of Helen? I swear I won't say a word to anyone. I’m just dying to know._

“I feel a bit uncomfortable asking you this…” Jessica allowed her voice to trail off.

_Bloody hell! I knew it! She’s going to ask me about the fucking audition. I need to put a stop to this now!_

“I normally would never ask such a question, but…”

“I’m really sorry; but I can’t tell you anything about your audition, Jessica,” blurted out Benedict. “It wouldn’t be professional.”

Jessica’s face immediately clouded over in anger. “I wasn’t going to ask you about my audition, Benedict,” she snapped. “That wouldn’t be proper protocol! Do you really think I’m that bloody unprofessional that I would ask such a thing of the star of the motherfucking play?”

Benedict felt his face redden at her words.

_Oh, fuck me! But what in the hell was she going to ask me then?_

“I’m sorry, Jessica, if I got the wrong idea. Please feel free to ask me anything.”

“It’s rather personal, so if I’m out of line; please don’t hesitate to tell me.”

_Perhaps I was wrong and now she’s going to hit on me. I sincerely hope not. I’m rubbish at handling those types of situations…even though it so rarely happens. Women have never really been interested in me in that way – except for Donna, which is fine with me.  
_

Benedict steeled himself. “It’s fine. Go ahead and ask your question then.”

“Well, my dad is a huge fan of your mother’s; and I was wondering if she were still alive is all.”

_What fresh hell is this? She only wanted to ask after Mum? Oh, how you flatter yourself, Benedict, you git. How in the hell does she know Mum?_

“Your dad’s a fan of my mother?” repeated Benedict.

Jessica cocked her head at Benedict and raised an eyebrow at him.

“You’re mother is Wanda Ventham, yes?”

Benedict nodded. “Yeah. She is, and I’m happy to say that not only is she very much alive; but enjoying good health as well. I’m having dinner with her and my dad tonight.”

Jessica smiled and nodded to herself. “I’m so relieved to hear that, and Dad will be, too.”

_Blimey! Her dad’s a huge fan. That’s never good._

“He’s seen everything your mum has ever been in. Colonel Virginia Lake has always been his favourite role of hers. I bought him the deluxe boxed DVD set with all the fancy extras last Christmas. He watches it so much I’m surprised he doesn’t wear those bloody discs out!”

_Fuck me! It sounds like Colin Saint James all over again. I find it so weird that Mum has all these middle-aged and geriatric fanboys still swooning over her. I thought I was going to lose it when Colin referred to Mum as ‘hot’._

“Given Wanda’s advanced age, every year that she lives is a blessing yes?”

_Christ on a crutch. If Mum were here, she’d dress her down for sure for saying that. If Dad were here, he’d be having a giggle behind the card display._

“Well…erm…yeah. I suppose it is.”

“Please give her my regards.”

_Hmmm…Does she mean she actually knows Mum or was that a figure of speech?_

“I have to say that in spite of the weight she’s gained, your mum is still a gorgeous woman. It’s kind of sad that some women can’t help letting themselves go in their twilight years…especially when they had such lucrative careers as sex symbols.”

Benedict felt himself bristle at Jessica’s thinly veiled snark.

_Jessica, you’re lucky Mum’s not here in person or she’d deck you. If I weren’t a gentleman, I’d deck you for being such a cheeky cunt._

“The only people who need concern themselves with how Mum looks are my Dad, who loves her without reservation, and casting directors, who obvious aren’t bothered by it as Mum still has a lucrative career in acting!”

“Oh, gosh. It wasn’t my intent to hit a nerve, Benedict.”

“Those cheeky comments were totally unwarranted.”

“Please accept my apology. I didn’t mean to sound so…I don’t know…”

“Bitchy.”

Jessica sighed. “Bitchy it is. She still does manage to dress nicely. I think it’s genius that designers are paying attention to the fashion needs of heavier women these days. There’s definitely a market for the larger sizes.”

Benedict raised an eyebrow at her. _And now you need to shut the fuck up, Jessica. She reminds me of a classier version of Heather._

“I-I-I mean the day we met, she looked very nice that day. She’s quite the stylish one your mother, she is.”

_From where does she know Mum though? OH, wait - You’re so clueless, Benedict. They are both actors, so they have obviously worked together at one time or another._

“How exactly did you and Mum become acquainted, Jessica? Which film set did you meet on? Or was it a stage play or television programme?”

Jessica giggled. “Oh, heavens no! It was nothing like that. We met at the end of this past winter when she was helping you to find a wife.”

Benedict blinked uncomprehendingly and nearly dropped the card he was holding as alarm bells began to go off inside his head.

_Mum was perpetually helping me to find a wife until I told her about Donna and here I’m stood face-to-face with one of her prospects.  
_

“I see,” was all that Benedict could manage to say. _  
_

“At first, I thought you two were completely crackers to embark on such a wacky quest.”

_Oh, Jessica, Mum embarked alone on this particular voyage to bird-land._

“… but then once we started chatting, I thought to myself: Jessica, this woman’s son must truly trust and respect her judgement without reservation if he’s allowing her to help him find a wife. He must be a very special chap.”

_Jesus fucking Christ. I can’t believe I’m hearing this. I thought Mum had finally given up after that last row we had. However, standing beside me is living proof that once again hope springs eternal when it comes to Mum’s unending quest to find me the perfect bird. That was all lip service, as usual! Thank God it’s over._

“It’s a rare thing to come across a mother who cares so much about her son’s happiness that she would lend him a hand in his search for the right person. You’re a lucky man, Benedict.”

_It’s rare alright. Not one of my friends’ mothers has ever meddled in their love lives to the extent that mine has. I’ve been a joke for years amongst us. Lucky? Hmmm…I dare you to walk a day in my shoes with Mum around – then we’ll compare notes. I’ll wager you won’t be referring to me as lucky after that._

Benedict snorted. “Yes, I’m truly blessed. It’s an embarrassment of riches, actually.”

_I’m embarrassed alright. I can’t fucking believe Mum went behind my back yet once again!  
_

“It’s also speaks volumes about you that you were able to put all your faith in Wanda to find you a mate. How unusual it is to come across such a loving and trusting mother-son relationship. I want to have a good cry just thinking about it, so touching it is!” sniffed Jessica.

_I want to have a good cry myself just thinking about it. I should have known Mum would never cease going behind my back until I found someone. At least things finally got sorted out with the advent of Donna in my life, bless her.  
_

“If only my own mum were like Wanda!”

_Fancy a trade? You wouldn’t be saying that if she were. I’d be careful of what I wish for if I were you, Jessica. The grass is not greener on this side of the fence, believe me!  
_

“Mum is quite an extraordinary lady,” declared Benedict. “So, how did you make the connection between me and my mother? Mum uses her maiden name for her stage name, and I use our family surname.”

“As soon as I saw you today, I knew you were Wanda’s son. You look exactly the same in person as in the photo she showed me.” _  
_

_That explains why she was staring at me._ _That was during the period when Mum was busy showing my headshots all around London to anyone who would be fool enough to look at them._

“Benedict, can I ask where you got your headshots done?”

“I have a close friend who is a professional photographer, Tertius Bune.”

“Can I have his number?”

“Unfortunately, he’s currently based in New York. He photographed me when he was back here on holiday last Christmas.”

“That’s a shame. I recall when your mum took out yours; I was so impressed with the quality of the actual photo. I like that your friend didn’t airbrush you to try and make you look like a handsome matinee idol if you know what I mean.”

_Hmmm…sometimes ignorance is bliss._

“Erm…I’m not sure that I do.”

“Well, photographers are known to touch up actors’ headshots in order to make them look much better than they do in reality. I respect your decision not to do that.”

_Mind your temper, Benedict._

“Thanks for the compliment,” retorted Benedict. “You do wonders for a guy’s ego.”

Jessica blushed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to insult you or Wanda before…this hasn’t been my day it seems.”

“Forgive my sharp tongue. It’s been a long day. On reflection, I’m sure you didn’t mean it the way it came out.”

“It’s just that…well, you’re obviously aware of what you look like.”

_Fuckity fuck fuck! She did mean it that way! For fucks sake._

“I’m painfully aware of what I look like. Erm…could I ask _you_ a personal question, Jessica?”

“Oh, oh! I know what you’re going to ask me, too. I won’t lie, Benedict. I’ve had a lot of cosmetic surgery. I’ve had my nose done, I’ve had botox…”

“No. That’s not at all what I was going to ask. I was going to ask why you used a much higher pitched voice during the audition.”

“Oh, that’s an easy one! When I was preparing for the first audition, my agent suggested I use a higher-pitched voice since Helen was a young ingénue. The director and casting director were pleased with the result and suggested that I use it if I were called back.”

Benedict nodded. _Her natural voice is almost deeper than mine! Hahaha!_

“You are very lucky to have a mother who’s so eager to help you out like that, Benedict.” _  
_

_Eager is a gross understatement._

“Not many mothers would do that for their child.” _  
_

_I can’t think of any except for mine._

“The child would certainly consider it meddling in their affairs and resent it.” _  
_

_And I assure you that this child did – not that it ever did any good. Mum just blatantly ignored my wishes and went full steam ahead, which is why Dad dubbed her the Wanda Express. Mum is a first-class meddler._ _Always has been and always will be, bless her.  
_

“But you’re different, Benedict. You saw that your love life was going no where…”

_I did? Yeah, it was and I did; but the last thing I would do is to ask Mum to help me find a date or a life partner._

“…and you were mature enough to see that your mother could be a useful tool when it came to your quest for the perfect mate. Before I met Lenny at an audition, I was just like you…”

_Were you now? Just how was I? I’m sounding rather pathetic me thinks._

 “…not being able to find the right person. Busy trying to find acting jobs whilst trying to make time to have a social life as well, and somehow always managing to attract the nuts.”

_All that is absolutely true until the night I met Donna at Barbecoa._

“Well, my luck has changed radically since then,” said Benedict with a smug smile. “I’m in a serious relationship and on the verge of getting engaged.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful news! So, how many women did it take until Wanda found the right one?”

“None. I met my girlfriend without any med…help from my mother. It was one of those chance meetings that often happens in life.”

“Oh, that’s so funny! After all the time and work she put into it!”

_What in the fuck is she talking about? I guess Mum must have confided in her how hard it was to find a bird for me. I can just see how it happened: Mum ran into her one day, and they got to talking. Mum will start up a conversation with anyone – especially with an attractive bird like Jessica._

“Would you like to see a photo that was taken the day we met?”

_Would I like to see a photo? Hmmm…would I now? You bet your arse I would, Sweetheart.  
_

“Yes, I would,” replied Benedict as he felt his heart begin to thud with anticipation.

Jessica removed her mobile from her handbag and scrolled through her photos.

“Okay…here we are! This is the better of the two. For some reason your mother looks angry in the first one, but the nice man sitting at the table next to us offered to take another one.”

Benedict intently studied the photograph of Wanda sitting at a small table in what appeared to be a restaurant. The restaurant looked familiar to him, but he couldn’t place it. Jessica was squatting beside Wanda, their heads leaning together, as they smiled for the camera. Benedict noticed that Jessica’s hair was a lot longer, and she was dressed in a garish outfit.

_She looks like a motherfucking rainbow, not to mention how wrinkled her clothes look! My Donna dresses so much smarter – I’m always proud to be seen with her._

“Don’t you think your mum looks glamourous in this one? That’s what I meant by the more stylish large size designer clothes.”

_I happened to be with Mum when she bought that suit, and designer it was not. Hahaha!_

“My dad was completely over the moon when I showed him the photos. He couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that I had been interviewed by _the_ Wanda Ventham. He was also thrilled when I gave him her autograph and note.”

Unfortunately, Benedict didn’t hear everything that Jessica had been saying. His attention had been captured by the reflection of the photographer that was in the mirror on the wall directly behind the two women. The nice man who Jessica described was none other than his father, Timothy Carlton.

_For fucks sake! That’s Dad taking their photo! What fuckery is this? Why was dad sitting at the next table? Why didn’t Jessica know they were together? Surely, Mum would have introduced Dad to her. Didn’t Jessica say she and Mum were sitting together? I guess Mum met her and invited her to have a coffee. Maybe Dad showed up after the fact like at the Orangery the day she had tea with Donna? Something’s not right here. Bloody hell, now I have even more questions!_

“Well, it’s been nice chatting with you, Benedict; but I’ve got to meet Lenny at the Barbican,” said Jessica with another toothy smile. “Don’t forget to tell Wanda I said hello.”

“Oh I wouldn’t dream of it,” said Benedict, returning the smile as he followed Jessica to the till to pay for their cards.

 

 

Benedict Cumberbatch was jolted out of his reverie as the train pulled into the Kensington High Street station. He got off and walked through the arcade, his mind reeling from his conversation with Jessica DeHaviland.

_Oh, Mum and Dad, you two have a lot to answer for tonight._

 

*******************************************************

 

Timothy Carlton glanced up from the BBC evening news as his wife scurried in from the kitchen with three empty wine goblets that she placed on the dining room table, which had been laid for three.

_I can see that my watching the news tonight is futile. This is the third time Wanda’s been out here in the past half hour. At least this time she thought to bring the glasses as a decoy._

“I think we’ll have some of that Chablis with the chicken or do you think champagne would be more festive?”

“I think we should wait and see what Ben’s news actually is before we start popping corks and tossing confetti. It may be nothing worth celebrating.”

Wanda frowned and pushed up the sleeves of her top over her elbows. “The Chablis then. One can toast with wine just as well.”

“We’ll have to as we’re all out of champagne,” chuckled Timothy. “I only buy champagne if there’s a special occasion.”

Wanda made some minute adjustments to the place settings and stood back to admire her tablescape once again.

“You know this is the third time you’ve been out here under the pretense of laying the table, which was already laid an hour ago.”

“I had forgotten the wine glasses.”

“You didn’t forget them. You changed up the wine glasses from the ones you originally had set out, and before you ask – either glass is fine with me. I’ve even been known to swill wine from a paper cup or the bottle in a pinch.”

“I thought you were watching the news.”

“I’ve been trying to, but you’re not making it easy with all this fussing about. Honestly, Wanda, this is supposed to be a casual family dinner; not dinner with the Prince of Wales.”

Wanda sighed deeply as she exchanged the glasses for three that were on display in her china cabinet. Then she stepped back, pushed her sleeves up over her elbows and nodded to herself, seemingly satisfied. 

“There. That’s looks lovely, don’t you think?”

_I think I’m about to be asked the question of the evening yet again, is what I think._

Timothy huffed in annoyance and switched off the television in frustration.

“Yes, Pet. All three versions of your table settings were equally lovely. I’m sure Benedict would also be equally happy dining on paper plates and drinking from plastic cups.”

Wanda rounded the table and sat in the arm chair perpendicular to the couch.

Timothy regarded his wife with a raised eyebrow. “Well then?”

“Was there any sign of Benedict when you last checked?”

“No, and I don’t fancy going out on the balcony to have another look; as I was only out there less than five minutes ago. It’s your turn to be the lookout. Besides, Commander, you’re much better at covert surveillance than I am.”

“I beg to differ, Agent Carlton. I always seem to get caught,” declared an indignant Wanda.

“That’s because you’re too obvious about it. You don’t try to blend in with your surroundings or use disguises like I do.”

Wanda took the remote off the end table and switched on the telly. Then she selected a chocolate chili truffle from the crystal candy dish, unwrapped it and popped it into her mouth.

“Did they say if there were any delays on the tube?” she asked around a mouthful of candy.

“Nope. Good service reported on all lines.”

“Ben didn’t give me an exact time when he called. He just said he’d come around as soon as the auditions were over.”

“I thought you told me he said to expect him around half six.”

“He did, but that doesn’t mean anything. This is Benedict we’re talking about.”

“True,” chuckled Timothy, reaching over to take a truffle for himself. “It’s just about half six now, so I’m thinking we’ll see him somewhere around seven or half-seven.”

“Then it’s a bloody good thing I decided to roast a chicken. It’s just about done, and I can keep it warm until he saunters in. The sauce can be made at the last minute.”

The sound of the downstairs door buzzer startled both of them. Timothy got up and went to the intercom. He pressed the button and spoke pleasantly into the speaker.

“Yes?”

“It’s me, Dad,” came Benedict’s deep baritone.

“Jolly good. You _can_ use your keys.”

“I know. I just wanted you to know I’m here. I’ll be right up.”

“We’ll be here.”

Timothy turned to Wanda and looked at his watch. “How about that? Miracles do happen.”

 

********************************************************

 

 Benedict Cumberbatch entered the mews house and took the elevator to the fourth floor. He unlocked the door to his parents flat and was hit with the delectable smell of roasting chicken.

_Ah! No matter how old I am or wherever I happen to live, whenever I open the door to this flat it just smells of home to me. I fucking love how all my childhood memories come rushing back in that one instant. It’s a feeling to be savoured._

“Hello!” he called out.

_Aren’t they going to be surprised when I tell them about my meeting Jessica DeHaviland in Paperchase. Hmmm…I wonder when I should spring it on them? I have to make sure to totally blindside them.  
_

Timothy came into the foyer to greet his son with a bear hug. A smile came to his face as he felt Benedict hug him tightly in return and pat his back.

_Ben misses being around us. I can tell from the way he just hugged me._

“We’re both so glad you decided to come over tonight, Ben. It’s been too long since we’ve all sat down around the dinner table together as a family.”

_He’s right, and I feel like a selfish bastard. I’ve been so preoccupied with Donna and my career that I’ve neglected Mum and Dad. I’m just realizing now how much I’ve been missing their company._

Benedict removed his jacket and hung it in the wardrobe. “That’s true, which is part of the reason why I’m here.”

_I wish I knew for certain what the other part of the reason is. It’s hard to read Benedict at times, and this is one of them. Normally, he’s fairly transparent; but not tonight._

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck. “You’re looking very chipper tonight, Dad. Did you have a good day?”

“Any day when I win at cards at the Garrick Club is a good day,” chortled Timothy as they made their way into the lounge. “Watching Trevor sulk made it even more gratifying.”

“Just how good was it?” inquired Benedict, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Good enough to pay for my lunch and then some.”

“And how much is that precisely? I imagine lunch at the Garrick Club can be quite pricey.”

“You imagine correctly, Barrister.”

_Shit! He called me barrister, and I haven’t been here more than five minutes. I hate when he won’t tell me how much he loses or wins! It can’t be all that much – especially after he lost a grand in Monte Carlo that summer. He rarely plays with more than twenty-five quid._

“Three hundred quid,” said Timothy in a low voice.

Benedict gave a whistle. “Congratulations!”

“Just don’t tell your mother.”

“Why not?”

“Because she’ll be expecting a cut, and I’d like to set it aside for our thirty-fifth wedding anniversary the year after next. I was thinking of surprising her with a Mediterranean cruise, and every little bit in the pot adds up.”

“Oh, Mum will be over the moon when she finds out.”

“Hopefully, she won’t find out before she opens the card and sees the tickets.”

“I promise not to say a word to her about it,” proclaimed Benedict, crossing his heart.

_Famous last words,_ thought Timothy.

“You’re looking quite well yourself, Ben. How’s Donna?”

“She’s very well and sends her love.”

_Well now. That was short and sweet. He usually has plenty to say when it comes to the subject of Donna Saint James. Something seems to be bothering my son, but it doesn’t seem like she’s the root cause. Knowing Ben, he’ll come out with it in his good time. He always does._

“Your mother has been busy cooking all your favourite dishes once you said you were joining us for dinner.”

“I hope she didn’t go through too much bother. Anything Mum makes is fine with me.”

“All I can say is that I hope you have an appetite.”

 Benedict smiled and licked his lips. “I could smell her heavenly roasted chicken the minute I set foot inside the flat. Might there also be a banoffee pie in my future?”

“I can’t say for sure.”

“Oh, I see. She’s sworn you to secrecy then.”

“Yes. I’m the official keeper of secrets in this family.”

_I’ve got more secrets than you’ll ever care to know, my son.  
_

_You’re not the only one keeping secrets, Dad. I’ve got a stonker to share with you and Mum when the time is right.  
_

“I guess I’ll just have to see if I can pry it out of Mum then. I’d better say hello before she thinks I’m being rude.”

“Off you go then. We don’t want her to think she’s being ignored.”

“Never!” laughed Benedict. “Mum can never be ignored.” He halted and did a double-take at the formally set table in the dining room alcove. “Are we expecting any other company besides me?”

“Just you. Your mother felt like fussing over you tonight, so just go along with whatever she’s done. It’s as much a treat for her to have you here as it is for me. You are our only son after all, so we should be able to fuss over you.”

Timothy’s words caused Benedict to feel overwhelmed by pleasant, loving feelings.

_Bollocks! I hate it when I start to feel all soppy inside. I suppose I’ll wait until after dinner to ask them about Jessica. I don’t want to spoil such a nice meal._

Benedict found Wanda in the kitchen, pouring a thick, tarragon-scented cream sauce into a gravy boat. The aroma immediately flooded him with warm and happy memories of eating dinner with his parents in the kitchen. The plump, golden brown, crisp-skinned whole chicken sat on a white serving platter, surrounded by an array of roasted root vegetables.

“Hi Mum! Is that your famous roasted chicken I see?”

Wanda beamed at the sight of her son. “Yes, it is with all your favourite vegetables to accompany it.”

“Brilliant! I’ve been craving your roasted chicken for the past couple of weeks.”

“You can come over here and thank me properly then,” teased Wanda, holding out her arms to him. “I’m happy to make it for you anytime you fancy it – just ring me up the day before.”

Benedict hugged and kissed his mother on both cheeks. He could feel the love emanate from her as she embraced him and returned the kisses. She reached up to rub her lipstick off one of his cheeks.

“You get more handsome every time I see you.”

Benedict blushed. “Oh, Mum. Please. It’s the same old mug I’ve had forever. You’re making me blush.”

“You look even more handsome with some colour in your cheeks. Besides, its true; and you should know better than to argue with your mother,” retorted Wanda with mock sternness.

“Mothers always think their sons handsome and their daughters beautiful,” snickered Benedict. “It must be maternal law.”

“I think that because it’s true. Tracy _is_ beautiful and you _are_ very handsome in my eyes. Now, please be a love and carry the chicken platter to the dining room so we can eat this while it’s hot.”

 

 

Dinner had been delicious, and Benedict had enjoyed two helpings of everything. The conversation had proven to be as lively as it always was when dining with his parents – filled with gossip and laughter. Benedict drained his wine glass and wiped his lips on the serviette that had once belonged to his Gran Pauline.

“Dinner was fabulous, Mum,” declared Benedict. “Your roast chicken should be declared the official comfort food of England.”

“You’ve outdone yourself tonight, Pet,” added Timothy. “The fresh tarragon makes all the difference.”

“Which you grow,” smiled Wanda with a nod to her husband.

“Yes, which I grow brilliantly,” chimed in Timothy. “So I think I can take partial credit for the chicken.”

“This one dish signifies home to me,” reflected Benedict. “It’s so comforting to be sat here at the table, enjoying a hearty meal with you both…talking and laughing…I’m so damned happy right now I could just burst.”

_And now you’re going to spoil the mood, Benedict, by bringing up Jessica DeHaviland._

“There’s still more food you two,” said Wanda, indicating the half-empty platter that sat in the center of the table.

“Oh, no. Thank you. I couldn’t manage another bite, Mum.”

“I need to save room for pudding,” said Timothy.

“Do you fancy coffee or tea, Ben?” asked Wanda.

“Hmmm…depends on what the pudding is,” replied Benedict.

 “What do you think?” asked Wanda with a smile and a wink.

_She made my favourite dessert of all time. Banoffee pie._

“I think I’d fancy a cup of Dad’s special blend of tea.”

“I’ll put the kettle on,” said Wanda, getting up from the table.

“How about if I clear the table and do the washing up,” offered Benedict. “You’ve spent enough time in the kitchen today. It’ll also get the digestion going.”

“I’ll wrap the leftovers,” volunteered Timothy. “This way you can ready the pudding, Love.”

“My mother taught me never to turn down an offer of help in the kitchen,” remarked Wanda.

“And you’re a credit to her,” smiled Timothy. “Ben, do you prefer your leftovers in plastic containers or in tinfoil?”

“Oh, I couldn’t…” began Benedict.

“Stop standing on ceremony. Of course you could and you always do,” chuckled Timothy. “You know damned well that these leftovers have been destined for Hampstead since your mother decided on what size chicken to purchase.”

“Plastic containers then please,” replied Benedict. “I can carry them back in a shopping bag.”

The three of them worked flawlessly together in the kitchen whilst continuing the easy banter that had always flowed between them. Benedict was stood at the sink, rinsing off the dishes and loading them into the dishwasher lost in thought.

_I wonder if now is a good time to bring up Jessica. They’re both distracted with their chores; so I would definitely catch them off guard, which is paramount to my succeeding in getting to the bottom of this._

“I can’t remember when the three of us last had such a lovely evening,” said Wanda, as she removed the luscious-looking pie from the refrigerator and set it on the counter.

“There’s nothing quite like being with family,” added Timothy.

Benedict’s mouth began to water at the sight of the familiar cloud of slightly sweetened whipped cream that covered the layers of buttery toffee, sliced ripe bananas and creamy vanilla bean-flecked custard that topped a flakey, butter crust pie shell. He noted that Wanda had gone all out and covered her flutes on the pie crust with leaves that had been cut out and scored to look like the real thing. It was something she hadn’t done in a long while.

“Now, that one was made from scratch,” proclaimed Benedict. “I can always tell your homemade banoffee pie from the others.”

“I guess the pie crust leaves gave me away,” laughed Wanda. “I had some leftover dough and felt like making it pretty.”

“That’s one of the ways I can tell that it’s not the one you sometimes buy at Borough Market – not that it isn’t good; but the one you make is far superior. They make a biscuit crust. You’re far more generous with the whipped cream topping, and their whipped cream is a lot sweeter than yours. You make that delectable homemade toffee layer that goes underneath the custard. They mix crushed toffee bits into theirs.”

“Thank you,” said Wanda. “As chuffed as I am that you’re loyal to my homemade pie, it is sometimes nice to just buy it and pass it off as my own. This one is so much work, but seeing the look of happy surprise on your face makes it all worthwhile.”

“You could never fool me,” declared Benedict. “Your custard is silkier and creamier. Your toffee is extraordinary; and you always use ripe, yet firm bananas. There’s nothing worse than mushy bananas. It may take a lot of time to make, but it’s the best – no contest!”

“For fucks sake, Benedict, you sound just like a bloody food critic,” teased Timothy. “It was like having Donna here in our midst.”

“At least he gave my pie a good review!” giggled Wanda. “I’d have been terribly crushed had he not.”

“That’s what happens when you hang out with a food critic,” joked Benedict. “You learn to pay attention to the details.”

“Speaking of which, it’s too bad you couldn’t bring Donna along tonight,” said Wanda. “She’s never tasted my made-from-scratch banoffee pie. She’s only had the one from Borough Market, which she thinks I make.”

Benedict snorted. “No, Mum, she doesn’t. Donna knows your secret.”

“Hells bells! Did you go and tell her then?”

“I didn’t have to, Mum. Donna can recognize a store-bought pie without ever having to taste it.”

“Speaking of Donna, are you seeing her after you leave here?” inquired Timothy. “You can bring her back a slice of pie to try.”

“Unfortunately, no. I’m going straight back to Hampstead once I leave here; but I’ll be seeing her tomorrow. I can bring home a slice for her – provided there’s any left,” joked Benedict.

“It felt as if someone were missing at the table tonight,” said Wanda sadly. “We’re so used to having Donna in our lives that she truly feels like part of our family now.”

“Amen to that,” agreed Timothy. “You’ve picked a fine one this time, Son.”

_Fuck me. And this is where I should be telling them about my plans, rather than preparing to interrogate them over something that happened back in February. Obviously, I’m not privy to all the details; but I think I know enough to figure out that Jessica must have been sat beside Mum at a restaurant. Mum, forever on the lookout for a bird for me, saw potential daughter-in-law material and struck up a conversation. Knowing how Dad hates whenever she pulls shit like that, most likely pretended he didn’t know Mum – like he did at the Creation premiere. I need to stop being so suspicious all the time.  
_

Benedict felt a pang of guilt as Wanda passed him and paused to pat his cheek. He could see the adoration in her eyes.

“We just love having you here, Ben,” she said happily.

_Why can’t I just let it go?_ Thought Benedict. _  
_

“Why don’t we have our pudding in here?” suggested Timothy, getting out plates, silverware and teacups. “I’ve always been more comfortable in here.”

“It’s fine by me,” said Wanda as she retrieved the sugar bowl and filled a small pitcher with cream, which she brought to the small kitchen table. _  
_

Benedict added detergent to the dishwasher, shut the door and set the dial to heavy load. He rinsed his hands and dried them on a tea towel. Then he leaned his slim hips back against the cabinets and crossed his arms, watching his parents. Wanda was plating hefty slices of pie, and Timothy had set the timer for his tea to brew. Benedict finished laying the table and resumed his stance against the cabinet.

_I’ll be working with Jessica soon enough and will have time to delve deeper into this development once things are sorted out with Donna and me. Right now I need to focus on sharing my plans with my parents. They honestly love Donna, and I need to tell them of my plans now rather than later.  
_

“Donna had a review to do tonight, so she couldn’t come. I also didn’t want her to be here because I needed to talk to you both about her and me and our relationship.”

Benedict saw his parents exchange excited looks. Wanda had put down the pie server and Timothy stopped arranging the teacups on the counter. Their collective ice blue and hazel eyes were focused on him, anxiously awaiting his next words.

_This is it, Wanda. Ben’s going to say those words we’ve been longing to hear. Just try and remain calm until he gets it all out.  
_

_My hunch was correct. He’s got marriage on his mind. I wish he’d spit it out already. The suspense is killing me, and my wife looks as if she’s going to burst.  
_

_How to tell them? I wish I could think of something clever to say._

“There’s nothing wrong, is there?” prompted Timothy hesitantly.

“Oh, no, Dad, there’s nothing wrong! Things couldn’t be better between us,” replied Benedict. “I wanted to be alone with you both so I could share my super-secret plans without any danger of Donna’s finding out.”

“Sounds very mysterious indeed,” quipped Timothy. “Just like your old spy days, eh, Wanda?”

_Oh, I hate when Timothy plays games like that! Ben will think he’s referring to one of my past roles; but I know better. I can’t stand the suspense any longer!_

“It sounds like someone is planning a surprise marriage proposal to me!” blurted out Wanda, unable to contain herself. “Am I right, Benedict?”

Benedict began to laugh as he nodded. “Yes, Mum. I’m planning on asking Donna to marry me on her birthday the week after next. I was originally going to wait until we had been together almost a year and do it on Valentine’s Day; but that seemed corny as fuck.”

Timothy cleared his throat. “Some of us don’t think it’s corny at all. Some of us think it’s a very romantic day to propose.”

“I’ll concur with that!” smiled Wanda, reaching out to pat Timothy’s hand. “And I’ll also state for the record that I think it’s a lovely day to get married as well. You and Olivia were at Geoffrey and Diana’s daughter’s wedding, and it was on Valentine’s Day. We had a grand time!”

_"_ Yes, we did. I recall Liv and I were sat at our table, getting pissed on champagne and laughing our arses off at the ridiculousness of it and promising that we’d never marry on Valentine’s Day." 

Benedict felt his face redden as it dawned on him that his father had proposed to his mother on Valentine’s Day.

_Oh…wait just a minute. I’m such a dick. I really need to check my mouth filter._

“Erm…That’s right. Dad proposed on Valentine’s Day. I’m sorry for making light of it. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

_You weren't which is par for the course,_ thought Timothy.  _I adore Valentine's Day. I'm just an old romantic at heart._

“You’re impatient to get married,” observed Wanda. “You’ve been for years and now the finish line is in sight.”

“There’s no law that states couples have to court for a year before they can get engaged,” added Timothy. “You and Donna have been together for ten months now. If you don’t know each other well enough by now, you never will!”

“I don’t fancy waiting any longer. I feel we’ve taken enough time to get to know each other and build a trusting relationship…”

_Hells bells! I wish he hadn’t mentioned trust when referring to their relationship,_ thought Wanda as she exchanged worried glances with Timothy. _  
_

_Benedict wouldn’t think that if he found out about the plan and that Donna was involved as deeply as Wanda and I are,_ thought Timothy. _He’d be crushed to find out that Donna deceived him as well as us. He’d feel he was played for a fool._

“…So, now it’s time to make the biggest commitment of my life. I love Donna more than I’ve ever loved any woman, and I hope you two will find it in your hearts to accept her as your daughter-in-law.”

“Oh, Benedict!” exclaimed Wanda, rushing over to envelope him in a bone-crushing hug. “I’ve waited so long to hear you say those words! I can’t believe I’m actually hearing them!”

“I hope you both are as happy and excited at the prospect of a wedding as I am.”

Wanda looked up at him, tears of pure joy running down her face. “I couldn’t be more over the moon, my darling boy. This is what I’ve wanted for you for so long – to find a bird to love who makes you happy!”

“Donna makes me very, _very_ happy, Mum,” confirmed Benedict. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone. It’s as if I’m floating on this blissful little cloud all the time. It’s such an extraordinary feeling to be loved like that.”

“Donna is a lovely girl,” said Timothy, coming over to hug his son as well. “I had a good feeling about her from the start, and I’m over the moon as well. She’ll be a welcome addition to our family.”

“All your dreams are finally starting to come true, Benedict. You deserve every happiness!” gushed Wanda.

“You and Donna seemed destined to be together,” said Timothy. “I couldn’t have hand-picked a more suitable daughter-in-law if I’d tried.”

_Well, to be fair, Wanda tried her damnedest; and I contributed; but you don’t need to know that._

Benedict swallowed over a lump that had inexplicably formed in his throat. He could see tears of happiness in his father’s eyes as well as his mother’s.

“For fucks sake! Look at the lot of us – getting all soppy just because I’m going to get married.” He wiped a tear from the corner of his eyes.

“How about we sit down then and have some pie whilst you tell us your plans?” suggested Wanda passing around the plates.

“You say you’re going to propose the week after next,” began Timothy, taking his place at the table. “Isn’t Donna going to be in New York?”

Benedict nodded as he decanted the hot combination of Earl Grey and Lapsang Souchang tea into the teacups. “Yeah. I’m flying to New York two days prior to her birthday.”

“Do you have a place to stay?” asked Wanda.

“Tertius has offered to put me up, so I won’t need to book a hotel.”

“That was very kind of him,” remarked Timothy.

“Yeah – especially since hotel rooms in New York cost a small fortune,” said Benedict. "It's like staying in London, but the rooms are larger."

“So what is the game plan?” asked Wanda excitedly. “Are you taking Donna some place special to propose or will you do it in private? What did her parents have to say about all this? I can’t imagine Neil being too chuffed. Does Carly know what your plans are?”

Benedict held out his hands in mock surrender as he laughed. “Please, Mum! You’re making my head spin with all these rapid-fire questions! I feel as if I’m being interviewed by one of those super journalists who shoot unending questions at you. How about if I take one question at a time?”

“Oh, Ben, it’s just that I’m so excited to hear all your plans,” explained Wanda, stirring cream and sugar into her tea. “As you were then – and don’t leave anything out.”

“Well, as I said, I’m flying in on the eighteenth…”

“What about a ring?” interjected Wanda. “You’ll need a ring certainly.”

“Wanda, how about letting Ben get a word in edgewise,” snapped Timothy. Then he turned to Benedict. “Yes, what are you doing about a ring?”

“There’s no worries, as the ring’s already been sorted. I’ve been working with Antonia’s brother Frank, who happens to be a jeweler. He’s got a shop in the Diamond and Jewelry Exchange in New York.”

Timothy had brought a forkful of pie to his mouth and immediately put it back down. His mouth was set in a grim line. Wanda could see that her husband wasn’t happy.

“So, you asked her parents for suggestions when it came to buying the ring yes?” Timothy asked carefully.

“Of course not! Neither Antonia nor Neil has a clue as to what’s going on. Frank has sworn allegiance to me not to say a word about it to anyone.”

“You haven’t spoken with Neil and Toni yet? Don’t you think they should be privy to your plans? After all, they are Donna’s…” began Wanda.

Timothy picked up his fork again only to set it down with a clatter this time. He bit his lower lip and frowned at Benedict whilst waving a dismissive hand at Wanda.

“I’m not interested in the parents, Wanda. I’m more interested in the ring. So you went out a bought a ring on your own without telling anyone yes?”

Benedict sighed and took a sip of his tea. “Well, I bought _most_ of it.”

“What in the hell is that supposed to mean?” demanded Timothy.

_Dad is suddenly awfully stropy. I wonder why? I bet he’s miffed because I didn’t consult with him about it. I suppose I should have, but after last time._

“I wanted Donna’s engagement ring to be unique, and I wanted to design it myself. So, I emailed her Uncle Frank a sketch of what I envisioned; and he said he could make it up. This way all I have to do upon my arrival in New York was to select the center diamond. Then he would have it set in front of me.”

“Did you think to check any of the jewelry stores in London?” asked Timothy. “We do have them here you know.  As far as I know New York isn’t the jewelry capital of the world. We have Tiffany, Cartier and Harry Winston branches here, too. Not to mention all the independent shop owners in Hatton Garden, which is our equivalent of New York's Diamond and Jewelry District."

“Yeah. I did my homework, Dad. I spent weeks shopping engagement rings online and in the shops of Hatton Garden. I know all about diamonds – colour, clarity, cut and carat. I know all about precious metals – gold versus platinum settings. I had mentioned it to Steve that I was going to propose and…”

Timothy raised an eyebrow at Benedict. “Steve?”

“Donna’s brother-in-law, Steve,” replied Benedict. “He suggested that I contact Antonia’s brother as he could make it up cheaper than any jeweler in London or New York. Frank buys his diamonds from wholesalers, which enables him to pass on the savings to me.”

“So you confided in Carly’s husband rather than coming to me for advice,” said Timothy quietly, drumming his fingertips on the table.

_My husband is a study in quietly controlled fury right now_ , thought Wanda. _He’s terribly hurt that Benedict didn’t think to include us._

_Shit. Dad’s definitely not happy that I didn’t consult with them. I guess I’d better explain my reasoning to him before we wind up having a row._

“I suspect you’re less than happy right now. Am I correct, Dad?”

“You are correct.”

“I don’t understand why you’re suddenly so stropy, Tim,” interrupted Wanda. “This is happy news, and Ben’s being very generous with sharing the details with us.”

“After the fact,” huffed Timothy. I thought you would have told us about your plans for the ring before you set them into motion, Benedict – not afterwards,” said Timothy, hurt in his voice. “Last time you went ring shopping, your mother and I were involved from the start.”

“True. The last time I did this, you and Mum did come along with me. You took me to Oliver Grindle’s shop in Hatton Garden. I was twenty-five and knew bollocks about buying any sort of jewelry – let alone a fucking diamond, and you two wound up taking over for me. I remember being stood in the shop whilst you chatted with Oliver, totally ignoring me. The only thing I was asked was what shape diamond did I think Olivia would fancy – and I didn’t even know that, truth be told. When we left the store, I felt…well…I felt as if you had chosen Liv’s ring, not me. I felt I missed out on what should have been an enjoyable and special experience and due to my ignorance, I did. And in the end, she turned me down and never even looked at the bloody motherfucking ring either time I asked her to marry me.”

Wanda and Timothy sat quietly, sipping their tea and eating their pie as they allowed their son’s words to sink in. Benedict caught them make eyes at each other as if they weren’t pleased with the revelation of Olivia’s reaction.

“I have to say that was not very gracious of Olivia to not even look at the ring,” scoffed Wanda, adding another sugar cube to her tea. “You had worked so hard selling perfume and being a waiter to save up for it – all whilst trying to juggle your acting gigs in between. I remember they were such long hours you used to put in.”

“I don’t understand why her refusal to even look at it,” muttered Timothy.

“Liv told me she didn’t want to see something she had no intention of accepting,” sighed Benedict. “I think she was afraid of giving in once she laid eyes on it.”

“I must say that I admire her tenacity not to allow herself to be influenced by a piece of jewelry rather than what was in her heart,” said Timothy. “Props to her.”

“It was a damn good thing Ollie gave you a full refund, Ben,” added Wanda.

“Yeah, I suppose it was,” murmured Benedict, poking at his pie on his plate with a fork. “What’s that old saying? Things happen for a reason.”

Timothy nodded and reached out to pat his son’s shoulder. “It never pays to dwell in the past and on what could have been. You and Olivia have both moved on.”

“You’re right, Dad. I’m in a far better place now.”

“How’s your pie, Ben?” asked Wanda. “You barely touched it.”

Benedict finally lifted the fork to his mouth and ate a small bite of the sweet confection.   _This is so fucking good, I really could eat the whole damn pie._

“Mmmm…delicious, Mum, as always,” he said, smacking his lips. “It has the uncanny ability to cheer me no matter how dire the situation.”

“Who would have thought that a humble banoffee pie would also have medicinal powers?” joked Wanda.

“You’re awfully quiet, Dad,” said Benedict. “What’s on your mind? Are you still angry with me?”

“I’m not angry with you, Ben. I never knew you felt that way,” said Timothy finally. “You never gave either of us a clue that you weren’t happy with the way things were going at Ollie’s. Why didn’t you say something in the shop or before we went?”

“Because you knew all about buying jewelry, and I knew rubbish. Each time Oliver asked me a question, I didn’t have an answer because I didn’t know! I felt embarrassed – especially when he began addressing you and Mum and leaving me out of the conversation altogether. If was as if I had just come along for the ride. I was determined to be totally involved when the next time came around. I suppose part of me wanted to show you both that eight years later, I’m a grown man who is now savvy about these things and can do this on his own.”

Timothy took a deep breath and nodded. “I can understand that, Benedict. I just wish you had taken me aside and said something at the time. We could have remedied the situation, so you could have saved face. I wrongly assumed that you asked us along because you wanted me to take charge. I’m sorry if I ruined the experience for you.”

“Well, I did ask you two to come along because I didn’t have a clue as to what in the fuck I was doing.”

“You were also quite adamant about paying for the whole thing yourself,” recalled Wanda. “I remember how shocked you were when you found out just how pricey engagement rings can be.”

 Benedict rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, I’m still shocked at how pricey engagement rings can be – even at wholesale prices. It took me the better part of a month to come up with the actual design.”

“Could you describe it to us?” prodded Wanda gently.

Benedict’s face lit up. “Oh, I can do better than that! Follow me into the lounge, and I’ll show it to you.”

Benedict settled at the desk that held his parents’ PC and signed into his email account, whilst his parents dragged over chairs from the dining room to sit on either side of him. Benedict opened the email from Frank Mangano and clicked on the attachment. He suddenly felt nervous about showing it to his parents and began to rub his thigh.

“Frank emailed me a photo of the finished setting this morning, and I’d love to have your opinion.”

“I’ll be happy to give it to you as soon as you open the bloody thing! Quick as you can now!” said Wanda, poking his forearm.

The attachment opened to show a white gold setting studded with marquise and round diamonds set around the thick band like leaves. Surrounding the empty hole where the center diamond would be set, were various sized marquise-shaped diamonds to represent flower petals.

“It’s magnificent, Benedict!” gasped Wanda, clapping her hands together. “I’ve never seen a setting even remotely similar to it. It’ll look like a flower when it’s finished.”

“That’s the idea,” confirmed Benedict. “There are two things Donna fancies above all else: cows and flowers. A cow engagement ring would have been a bit weird,” he laughed. “Therefore, I went with a floral theme.”

Wanda put her arm around her son’s shoulders and hugged him. “I can think of one other thing Donna fancies above cows and flowers – you.”

Benedict blushed and grinned from ear-to-ear. “I just hope she likes it.”

“It is truly stunning and unique,” agreed Timothy. “Are _you_ satisfied with the result?”

Benedict smiled dreamily and nodded. “Oh, yeah. It’s come out exactly as I envisioned it.”

“I’m now going to play Devil’s Advocate here and put a question to you, Ben. Have you considered what Donna’s reaction will be when she sees the ring?” asked Timothy.

Benedict looked perplexed by his father’s question. “What do you mean?”

“Some women prefer to select their own rings, and Donna strikes me as the type who might fall into that category.”

“Oh, but you haven’t heard the best part yet! Donna actually did pick her ring out,” laughed Benedict. “Unbeknownst to her.”

“I thought you said this was a secret,” said Wanda, forking up some pie.

“And it still is. Donna did pick out her ring. She just didn’t realize what she was doing when she did. Let me explain: Remember when she was sleeping in my flat whilst her parents were here?”

Wanda and Timothy both nodded.

“Well, the night I slept over in Wales after the Birkin wedding, Donna inadvertently came across the sketches I had done of the band and center stones separately. She had no idea she was looking at ring settings. Donna incorrectly assumed they were preliminary drawings of flowers and leaves that I was doing for a painting. I had been horrified when I found out she had seen them; but decided that it could work to my advantage. When she showed them to me, I asked which one she fancied and voila! Donna picked out the same one I had settled on as her favourite flower.”

Wanda and Timothy began to laugh along with their son.

“Welldone, Benedict! Donna can never accuse you of not giving her any input on her ring,” giggled Wanda.

“She’s going to be very surprised indeed when she realizes what happened,” added Timothy. “I hope someone’s around to take a photo of her face when you give it to her.”

“I can’t wait to give it to her,” sighed Benedict. “Do you two honestly think she’ll fancy it? I mean do you think it’s too much?”

“I think it’s a lovely setting, Ben; and I think Donna will be over the moon when she sees the finished ring,” replied Timothy.

Wanda nodded vigourously in agreement. “She’d be crackers not to love it, Benedict. What woman could resist a one-of-a-kind engagement ring that her fiancé designed especially for her?”

“Donna seems to know her jewelry,” added Timothy. “I think she will definitely appreciate all the work – and money – that went into creating it.”

“There was no cutting corners this time,” stated Benedict proudly. “The setting is made from eighteen carat white gold. The diamonds are all white, of excellent cut and flawless.”

Wanda nodded approvingly. “Always go with the best quality you can afford.”

Timothy gave a low whistle. “It certainly sounds as if you pulled out all the stops, Son. Flawless diamonds are very expensive.”

“That they were,” confirmed Benedict. “But I felt this is the one and only time I’m going to get engaged; so I want to do it properly.”

“It’s beautiful as is,” said Wanda. “And I can only imagine how even more beautiful it will be once the center diamond is set.”

“The center diamond is presenting quite the conundrum,” remarked Benedict quietly. “There always seems to be a fly in the proverbial ointment, isn’t there?”

Both parents noticed that their son’s enthusiasm had suddenly waned, and he appeared to be profoundly disappointed and mildly upset.

“How so?” asked Timothy.

“When the time came to discuss the cost of the center diamond, I realized that I wasn’t going to come close to affording what I wanted for Donna. I had planned on a perfect, round, one carat diamond, which is now out of the question from the estimates Frank has given me. I went way over budget on the setting…”

Benedict saw his parents exchange looks. Wanda gave Timothy a barely perceptible nod, and Timothy began to open his mouth.

_Oh, no! He’s going to offer me money. Just as I feared he would._

“…and before either of you say anything, I won’t accept any money from you – even though the sentiment is greatly appreciated. This is something that I want, need and should pay for myself. No offense intended.”

“None taken, Love,” said Wanda quickly, casting a side-eyed glance at her husband.

“So what are your options then?” inquired Timothy, sitting back in his chair.

“My options are to buy a smaller stone with no flaws or a one carat with some flaws or I could postpone things until I save up some more money in order to get what I want.”

“Then there’s the fourth option,” declared Timothy, casting a sideways glance at Wanda, who smiled and nodded her consent.

“Fourth option?” asked Benedict, clearly confused. “What fourth option?”

“Are you free tomorrow morning?”

“I’ve got some errands to run before I meet Donna back at my flat.”

“Jolly good. I’m about to add another one to your list. Meet me at the bank when it opens at nine, and we’ll get this all sorted out.” _  
_

_Oh, I see where he’s going with this,_ thought Benedict Cumberbatch. _Dad wants me to take out a small loan so I can finish Donna’s engagement ring properly, and he’s going to co-sign it. That’s very kind of him, but I won’t let him do it.  
_

“I see where you’re heading with this, Dad…”

_No, you don’t. It’s rather obvious_ , chucked Timothy to himself.

“…but I really don’t fancy taking out a loan. I prefer to remain as debt free as I can. I’ve got the mortgage on my flat to pay off and…” _  
_

“I didn’t say anything about taking out a loan,” scoffed Timothy _.  
_

“Oh, it’s just that I thought…” _  
_

_That’s when there’s trouble, when they think.  
_

“You may now cease with this line of questioning, Barrister. Just meet me at the bank at nine, and I promise to make it worth your while – and ultimately, Donna’s,” smiled Timothy Carlton. “Now, let’s finish our pudding, shall we?” _  
_

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in posting today. Our internet was down this morning.


	119. Chapter 119

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Benedict finds himself with yet another piece of the puzzle. Timothy is unexpectedly cornered by Barrister Ben. Timothy passes on a family heirloom to Benedict. Donna stumbles upon a secret while at Benedict’s flat. 
> 
> Note: I’ll be using *********************** to indicate things happening at the same time.

 

Timothy Carlton gazed at his watch for the tenth time since entering the HSBC Bank’s vestibule at exactly nine o’clock when the security guard unlocked the door. It was now almost nine thirty with no sign of Benedict.

_I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that Benedict isn’t here yet. Did I really expect him to be on time? Of course not…however, hope springs eternal and I can’t help but think one day he’s going to surprise me. Perhaps on his wedding day, which will make it Adam Ackland’s problem – unless Ben asks one of the other lads to be his best man. Good luck to whoever he does choose. The poor sod will certainly have his work cut out for him._

The text chime on Timothy’s mobile sounded alerting him to a message. Not surprisingly it was Wanda:

**What did Ben say? Was his surprised?  W**

Timothy snickered to himself and typed off a reply:

**He’s said nothing yet.  T  
**

**What do you mean?  W  
**

**There’s nothing to report yet, Commander.  T  
**

**That’s odd. Ben always has more than his share to say!  W  
**

**I suppose he was so moved, he was at a loss for words.  W  
**

**There’s nothing to report because your son hasn’t arrived yet, bless him.  T**

**May I remind you that he’s half your son, too!  W  
**

**My half would have been here on time. It’s your half that’s forever late.  T  
**

**Hells bells! I would have thought today of all days he’d be on time.   His curiosity must be getting the better of him by now.  W  
**

**Curiosity be damned. Our son has no conception as to what it means to be on time, and I fear never will. Not even Donna’s best efforts have made much of a difference.  T  
**

**Unfortunately, Ben operates under the assumption that the world will wait for him. You’re not waiting outside, are you?  W  
**

**I’m stood in the vestibule, which is blissfully heated only because it has an ATM.  T  
**

**At least you have a warm place to wait in.  W  
**

**True and there’s free coffee and donuts for bank customers. I’m considering going inside to partake of a cuppa and jelly donut whilst I wait for him.  T  
**

**Ben honestly didn’t seem to have any idea as to why you asked to meet at the bank.  W  
**

**It seemed that way. A real-life Sherlock Holmes he isn’t. LOL  T  
**

**BTW when I was at the box the last time I took the liberty of swapping out the envelopes and CD sleeves.   I felt they needed relabeling in order to make it easier to identify the contents.  W  
**

**I always thought ‘insurance policy’ and ‘will’ were quite descriptive but what do I know?  T  
**

**I wrote the different types of policies on the envelopes i.e. Life Insurance, Auto Insurance etc. The CD’s also weren’t marked properly. Oh, before I forget, there’s a CD I want you to please give Ben. It has his name on it.  W  
**

**Which CD is this?  T  
**

**The one with instructions should anything happen to one or both of us. That’s the type of information that he’ll need to have handy in case of an emergency. Sitting in a safe deposit box won’t do him any good if he can’t get at it in a hurry.  W  
**

**Good point, Commander. I will endeavor to pass it onto our son.  T  
**

**Thanks. As I said last night, I don’t recall us ever telling Ben about the ring because there was no need to until now. I think he’s going to be shocked and over the moon at the same time.  W  
**

**I think I’m going to head inside for that cuppa before I freeze my bollocks off. Every time some wanker opens the door, I get hit with a blast of cold air.  T  
**

**Okay. Let me know what Ben said as soon as you’ve parted ways. I’ll be at that audition, but I’ll make sure to keep my mobile set to vibrate.  W xoxo  
**

**Aye, Commander.  Half-Frozen Agent Carlton signing off with love.  T  
**

************************************************************

 

Benedict Cumberbatch arrived at the HSBC Bank branch on Kensington High Street at nine thirty-five to find his father standing in the vestibule waiting patiently for him.

_Dad doesn’t appear to be angry that I’m a bit late. He’s not tapping his foot nor is he pacing back and forth like he usually does. The expression on his face is a placid one. All good signs. What a relief!_

 Benedict pulled open the heavy glass door just as Timothy was about to enter the bank. He noted that his father had a small cloth tote bag with him.

“Wait up, Dad!”

Timothy turned around and smiled widely at his son.

“Morning, Ben.”

“Good Morning, Dad. Sorry I’m late. I actually would have been here on time, but I had to top up my Oyster Card and missed the train by seconds. Then there was signal trouble at Chalk Farm; so service was delayed.”

_Sorry I’m late – my son’s famous last words, bless him. He really ought to consider having that put on his tombstone._

“Not a problem,” said Timothy mildly. “At least I had a warm place to wait. Shall we get on then?”

“Yeah,” replied Benedict as he held open the door to the outside for his father to exit the bank. “So, where are we headed exactly?”

Timothy looked at his son in bewilderment and ran a hand through his thick, silver hair. He pointed to the inside of the bank with his thumb.

_My son really hasn’t a clue. Maybe Sherlock’s deduction skills will rub off on him once he gets into the role._

“In here, of course! Where else would you have us go?”

Timothy turned on his heel and strode purposefully into the bank branch. A bewildered Benedict let go of the door and followed his father inside. The beefy security guard greeted him pleasantly, having seen Benedict in the branch many times before when he lived in Kensington.

“I'm confused then. I thought we were just using the bank as a meeting place and going elsewhere.”

“Well, you thought wrong. I wanted to meet here because our business is here,” clarified Timothy.

_Shit! It looks like Dad really is going to suggest either taking out a loan for me or co-signing one. Neither of which I’m too keen on doing._

“Erm…Dad, when I said I wasn’t interested in taking out a loan last night, I meant it,” said Benedict quietly, as he followed Timothy past the tellers to where bank personnel sat at desks in the Customer Service Area ready to assist customers with their various banking needs.

“This has nothing to do with a loan,” Timothy assured him as he led the way past the customer service desks to an area on the left that Benedict recognized as the entrance to the safe deposit boxes.

“We’re going to your safe deposit box.”

_Such observation skills my son has! He's going to make a brilliant Sherlock. It's amazing at times how obtuse Ben can be, bless him._

“That we are.” Timothy removed the small yellow envelope that contained the key to his and Wanda’s box. He smiled at the cute, petite, dark-haired woman who sat at the desk beside the entrance. “Good morning, Lynn! I’d like to access my box, please.”

“Of course, Mr. Cumberbatch,” Lynn said cheerily as she gave Timothy a card to fill out and sign. “Just you today?”

“My son’s coming in with me,” replied Timothy, indicating Benedict, who stood by rocking back and forth on his heels. “Lynn, this is my son, Benedict. Ben, this is Lynn. She’s just transferred over from the Charring Cross branch.”

_And she also happens to be one of your mother’s unsuccessful interviewees. Nice enough girl, but not intelligent enough to keep up with you. It was a good thing I was sat with my back to her that day in Paul’s, so she has no idea to this day that I was listening to every word whilst pretending to read the paper. That was when Paul’s was featuring those delicious praline croissants. I wonder if they’re still offering them?_

Lynn smiled widely at Benedict and batted her heavily mascaraed eyelashes at him and crinkled her pert little upturned nose at him. Her short hair was razor-cut and framed her delicate features nicely.

_I’ll be damned. She also does a nose crinkle,_ thought Timothy with amusement. _I hadn't noticed that before; but then why would an attractive young girl flirt with the likes of an old gent like me. Ben seems impervious to it._

“Hi Benedict! How nice it is to finally meet you! I feel as if I know you!”

_I really wish Lynn hadn’t said that. Wanda did have her sign an NDA that afternoon. Doesn’t she realize that she’s still bound by it not to talk to anyone about it – especially Benedict of all people. Wanda’s also lucky that Lynn never held it against her that she didn’t wind up as one of our finalists._

“Nice to meet you as well,” Benedict said somewhat distractedly.

“I’d recognize you anywhere.”

Benedict suddenly gave his full attention to the pixie-like woman before him, as a horrified Timothy felt panic begin to well up inside him.

_Noooooo. Why did she feel the need to mention that? I’m fucked now. Look at his face. Ben is no fool, he realizes something’s up.  
_

_What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Oh…Mum must have been in and noticed that she isn’t wearing an engagement ring or wedding band. Then she just happened to mention that she happened to have a single son in need of a bird. She is cute in a waif-like sort of way; but not really my type.  
_

“All done,” announced Timothy, handing the completed form over to Lynn to verify his signature with the one on the signature card.

“Be right back,” she said, getting up and going over to a small file cabinet behind her.

Timothy took note of the extra sway of her hips as she walked away from them.

“What an odd thing to say,” mused Benedict quietly. “Don’t you think?”

“There’s nothing odd about verifying my signature. It’s part of the routine. Don’t they check yours whenever you go to your box?”

“I don’t have need of a safe deposit box,” said Benedict, holding up his wrist and indicating his watch. “This is the only piece of jewelry I own.”

Lynn returned to the desk and took the master key from her desk drawer. “You’re all set, Tim. Would you like one of the larger rooms?”

“Yes, please.”

“When did you transfer over from Charring Cross?” asked Benedict, as they followed Lynn into the vault where the boxes were stored.

_Shit! Barrister Ben has been activated. I need to get into that room and distract him._

“Last month.”

_Okay. Mum’s in the clear this time. I was with Donna last month so Mum wouldn’t have been trying to promote me as the perfect mate to her._

“You look exactly like your photo.”

_Oh, do I now? There is only one person who could have shown her my photo. Why would Mum had done that? What ulterior motive did she have? Could it be in case things didn’t work out between Donna and me in the long term? I’m letting my imagination run away with me. Mum wouldn’t stoop that low, would she now? Of course she would. I put nothing past Mum and her match-making schemes. I should submit a letter to one of the Agony Aunts and ask for their advice on how to handle Mum.  
_

“Didn’t you bank over at Charring Cross a while back?” Lynn asked Benedict as she took Timothy’s key and hers and opened the two locks on the box. “I’m thinking it was maybe four or five years ago.”

“Nope. I do all my banking at the Hampstead branch.”

“I could swear I’ve seen you go into the safe deposit at Charring Cross. I had started out as a teller there, so I had time to see all the comings and goings in the bank. You were always with the blonde-haired girl who plays Emma Messinger in _The Thick of It_.”

_Erm…actually, she’s right. That was when I was with Olivia._

“Oh, yeah. You may very well have. My ex had a safe deposit box with her Mum and used to go every now and again. I’d often accompany her.”

Lynn slid out the box and handed it to Timothy along with his key. “Why don’t you use Room Number Three? Take as long as you need.”

“Thank you, Lynn,” said Timothy as he turned and headed towards the rooms. The sound of Benedict’s deep baritone stopped him dead in his tracks.

“Lynn, might I ask how you came to see a photo of me?”

_Fuck, fuck, fuck! I need to distract him now! What is that they always say on Star Trek? Red alert! Red alert!_

Lynn turned back to face Benedict. “Oh, your dear mum’s the one who showed me. That Wanda is just the sweetest thing, she is. Hmmm…I remember I wasn’t supposed to talk about it; but being it’s you and you are her son and all, I’m sure it’s okay.”

_NOOOO!! If it's one thing, it's that it's not okay by any stretch of the imagination!_ thought Timothy.

“One should never breach a confidence,” Timothy gently reminded Lynn with a half-smile as he playfully waggled his index finger at her.

Benedict stared his father down. There was a look of disapproval in his ice-blue eyes. Timothy gave his son the most pleasant smile he could muster.

_Oh, Dad. You know what this is about. Just wait until we’re alone in that room._

_I dread being locked in that room with Barrister Ben. This is going to be a preview of hell._

Benedict crinkled his nose at Lynn and gave her his most charming smile, as Timothy inwardly rolled his eyes.

_He’s trying the nose crinkle and cheeky smile in order to wheedle it out of her. Resist the Cumberbatch charm, Lynn. Don’t tell him what he wants to know. Hells bells, I don’t want you to tell him anything. Isn’t there anyone who needs to gain access to their bloody safe deposit box besides me? There are always people waiting to be let in._

Benedict once again crinkled his nose and smiled at Lynn.

“Oh, I’m sure Mum won’t mind if you tell me.”

_I mind! I mind! Christ on a crutch! Who would have thought it would go down like this – in the motherfucking bank of all places! Where is the Commander when I need her? OH, yes. She’s out at a damned audition. I’m fucked!_

Timothy noticed it had suddenly gotten much hotter in the bank. He unbuttoned his brown tweed jacket and pulled his jumper away from his neck. Lynn bit her lower lip as she tried to decide whether or not to impart the information to Benedict.

“Oh, come on,” prodded Benedict, giving her another cheeky smile. “I certainly won’t tell Mum you confided in me, and I’m sure Dad won’t either – will you, Dad?”

Benedict paused to look at Timothy meaningfully and gave him a sardonic smile. Timothy felt beads of perspiration beginning to form on his forehead.

_Let’s hope Lynn is impervious to the nose crinkle and dimpled smiles._

“I guess it’s alright by now being so much time has passed. She showed it to me during the…”

_Shit. She caved in just like Wanda and Donna do whenever he pulls that stunt. And now I need to bring this to an end._

“Um…I really don’t mean to appear rude; but you’ve got a lot to do today, Ben; and so do I,” interrupted Timothy brusquely. “I don’t mean to be so short, Lynn; but…”

The sound of the bell on Lynn’s desk being pinged came from outside the room indicating that there was someone wanting to access their box.

_Saved by the bell as well! Praise the banking gods,_ thought Timothy with temporary relief.

_We’ll continue this very interesting discussion in the room, Dad. I need answers, and I won’t leave this fucking bank until I get some._

“Oh, that would be for me!” giggled Lynn. “Someone must need to get into their box. If I’m on break when you finish, Sharon will be here to assist you.”

_If there is a God, let her be on her break when we have to take our leave or Barrister Ben will pick up right where he left off, bless him. However, I wouldn’t be completely surprised should he choose to return at another time in order to continue his interrogation of her._

“Jolly good then,” said Benedict with a forced smile. “Shall we go through, Dad?”

_Is this how prisoners feel when they walk the last mile?_ Thought Timothy, as the mounting panic began to take hold.

Benedict went directly to Room Number Three and held the door open for his father to pass through. As soon as both men were inside the room, Benedict shut and locked the door behind him. He leaned back against the door, arms folded across his chest with a defiant expression on his handsome face. His ice-blue eyes bore into Timothy’s hazel ones.

“What was all that crap about, Dad?”

_Think, Timothy! Think! I need to make Wanda proud and preserve the Plan in order to save our collective arses._

Timothy carried the heavy metal box over to the table that was placed in the center of the smallish room. There were four straight-backed chairs surrounding it. The only other furnishings inside the room were a waste bin and a paper shredder.

“I’m not sure I know what you’re referring to, Benedict.”

“I beg to differ. I think you do.”

_Of course I do; but I don’t want to discuss it._

“You’re perspiring an awful lot, Dad? Are you feeling okay?”

Timothy sought his handkerchief and blotted the sweat off his face. Then he removed his tweed sports jacket and hung it over one of the extra chairs.

“It’s rather hot in here, don’t you think?”

“I don’t find it hot in here at all,” countered Benedict.

Timothy laughed nervously as he sat down in one of the vacant chairs. He could feel the sweat rolling down his back, causing his shirt to adhere to it.

_I thought cotton was supposed to wick away moisture. You can’t tell it by me. How can it be that Ben’s not sweating at all? He’s all bundled up as if it were already winter for fucks sake. Let me take the barrister by the horns and get this over and hopefully done with._

“Serves me right for layering a jumper over my shirt,” Timothy lamented. “The jacket probably would have been plenty on a day like today.”

Benedict sighed as if he were weary, but said nothing. Timothy sat back and regarded his son, who hadn’t moved from his position as sentinel in front of the closed door.

"It's safe to sit down, Ben.  No one's going to storm the door."

To Timothy's dismay, Benedict did not budge.  He continued to regard his father with the same steely stare.

“I have one simple question, Dad.”

“Alright then, let’s get this nonsense over with,” said Timothy abruptly. “Exactly what is it that you have such a burning desire to know, Benedict?”

“What I want to know is when Mum showed my picture to Linda – no Linette – no, wait, I’ve got it - Lynn? Lynn. Why would she do such a thing when I’m no longer single? If this Lynn just came over from the Charring Cross branch, then Mum would have no reason to. Her search for a bird for me ended when I took up with Donna months ago or so I believed.”

_Yes, the quest was put to rest once it became clear that you and Donna were besotted with each other. Your mother interviewed Lynn months ago – before you even met Donna. Right now we’re just trying to maintain the secrecy of the Plan. I have to be careful how I answer him._

“I thought Mum was over the moon about Donna and me. Is there something I should know, Dad? Does Mum actually not care for Donna and this whole time she’s just been saying what I want to hear whilst working in the background hoping to find me someone who meets her standards?”

“Now, I must admit that’s an interesting theory; but it couldn’t be farther from the truth. Your mother utterly adores Donna.”

“Then I don’t understand what’s going on, and I need to understand. What in the fuck is motivating Mum to do this?”

“As far as I can keep track, you’ve asked three separate questions, Benedict. Which one of them qualifies as the simple question that you wish me to answer?”

Benedict rolled his eyes and sighed with visible irritation. “Please save the cheek for another time, Dad.”

“And you’d be well-served to save the insolence.”

Both men glared at each other. Finally, Benedict broke the impasse and stared at his shoes all the whilst Timothy’s mind scrambled for a plausible explanation as he felt the sweat evaporating on his skin, making him feel cooler.

_Blimey! I think I’ve got it! I can explain my way out of this wretched mess, and it will make perfect sense to him._

“First of all, _Barrister_ , I can’t tell you the exact day the viewing of your photograph took place because I wasn’t present. You know your mother is perfectly capable of doing the banking without my being present, and she often does. There’s no reason for us to do it together unless we need to go to the safe deposit box together. Believe it or not, she’s been known to come in here on her own as well.”

“Now, who’s being cheeky?” inquired Benedict in a petulant tone. “And I reeeeaaally wish you and Mum would stop calling me Barrister. I detest it!”

“Whining doesn’t much become a thirty-three year old man, Benedict,” snapped Timothy. “And since you brought it up, we’ll stop referring to you as ‘Barrister’ when the day comes that you stop acting like one. If you were so drawn to the law, you should have kept up with your legal studies rather than forsaken them for a career in acting.”

“Touche,” said Benedict grudgingly. “However, you still haven’t answered all of my questions.”

“Well, given the timeline we have to work with, your mother must have come in here sometime during the past month to access the box. We can check with Lynn if you reeeeaaallly need to know the exact date.”

_And here’s hoping he doesn’t take me up on the offer._

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s not necessary, Dad.”

_Correct answer, Benedict. He’s backing down. Well done me._

“Are you _absolutely_ sure then?”

_I’m really pushing the envelope now. Let’s hope he doesn’t take it._

“Yeah, I’m sure,” replied Benedict in a sulky tone of voice.

_Ah, I do hate when he sulks like that. The paramount thing is that I’ve got him where I want him now. Let me wind this up, and we can get on with what we originally came here for._

“I have no doubt that when your mother came in here, she noticed the new face in charge of the safe deposit boxes. Knowing what a people person your mother is, I’m sure she got to chatting with Lynn about all sorts of things. Of course, I’m willing to wager that she mentioned her actor son and how proud she is of him.”

“Christ,” muttered Benedict under his breath. “I really can visualize that.”

_Brilliant!_

“As can I! If there’s one thing your mother loves to do is brag about your accomplishments to whoever will listen. She probably asked Lynn if she’d heard of you and then regaled the poor girl with a list of all the things you’ve done to date.”

“Shit. I can hear her in my head.”

_And now to bring it home._

“I’m also certain I know which photo she showed Lynn, too. Fancy a guess?”

“Bloody fucking hell!” growled Benedict, smacking his forehead with the heel of his hand. “I bet Mum just happened to have one of the _Sherlock_ promotional photos with her. She loves showing that one around.”

“That would be my guess, as well. The one of you dressed in full Sherlock regalia.”

“I thought I had taken away all of them!”

“Oh, you did. However, the day when you and Martin Freeman had your final costume and makeup tryouts for the upcoming season, Mark Gatiss just happened to stop by Carldonn Creative Catering to buy something for his dinner.”

“Now, you lost me, Dad. What does Mark have to do with this?”

“He played the part of the unwitting supplier. The way it was explained to me, both Donna and your mother were in the store having a chat when Mark came in. He was excited about the shoot and took it upon himself to not only show them the latest photos; but emailed them to both Donna and your mother as well. That’s how I came to see them. I’m assuming that your mother simply showed the ones on her mobile to Lynn.”

“Fuckity fuck fuck. I really wish Mark hadn’t done that; but it’s water under the bridge. He has no idea what Mum can be like.”

_Ah, the Plan has been preserved. Well done me. The Commander will be chuffed to hear our secret is still secure. I could do with a stiff drink; but all they have here is fucking coffee._

“And that, Barrister Ben, is how it came to be in my humble opinion.”

_Sort of._

“I give up, Dad! It’s bigger than both of us,” Benedict laughed bitterly.

“When the Wanda Express leaves the station, there is no stopping her, Son. Now, how about you join me at the table so we can get down to far more important business.”

“You know, I think it is a bit hot in here,” muttered Benedict, fanning himself with his hands.

Benedict crossed the room as he peeled off his black leather jacket and removed his scarf before moving one of the chairs next to Timothy’s. Father and son sat side-by-side at the table in silence. The large gray metal box sat on the table in between them. Benedict watched as his father put on his reading glasses and opened the box. There were various envelopes and boxes containing Wanda’s jewelry.

_Why would Dad ask me to accompany him here? All I know is it has something to do with helping me out with Donna’s engagement ring.  
_

“Your mother asked me to put these away for her,” commented Timothy as he removed a small black velvet box from his inside jacket pocket. He opened the box so Benedict could see his Wanda's gold and mother-of-pearl earrings. “She’s grown tired of wearing these and asked me to take out her gold and lapis ones with the matching ring and bracelet. Let’s hope I find them on the first try.”

Benedict smiled and nodded as Timothy rummaged through the various boxes that held Wanda’s modest jewelry collection. He recognized the envelopes that contained their wills, various insurance policies and other important papers and CD’s that his parents had shown him so he knew where to lay hands on them in an emergency. Suddenly, a thought occurred to Benedict as he impatiently drummed his fingertips on the tabletop.

_I think I know what this is all about! I’ll wager that Dad’s going to offer me enough cash to cover the cost to complete Donna’s ring properly. I know he keeps a certain amount of cash in there for emergencies…Yes, it’s in that thick manila envelope he just placed on the table with ‘emergency fund’ written on it in Mum’s hand. I can’t accept it no matter how tempting. It isn’t right, and I wouldn’t be able to begin paying him back until I get some cash flowing in from Sherlock and After the Dance. As much as I don’t want to, I think I’m going to have to go with a slightly-flawed half carat diamond. I remember Frank saying that if the diamond has white inclusions, they aren’t visible to the naked eye. Though I can just see her wanker parents insist on getting it appraised and being present for it so they can have a go at me.  
_

“Ah! Here we are. That wasn’t too bad,” Timothy chuckled. “I hate when your mother gives me vague descriptions, and I have to open every bloody box in here! She informed me that on her last visit here, she replaced some of the envelopes so the contents would be more obvious. I wish she’d done the same with her jewelry boxes.”

He put the ring inside a velvet pouch, which he in turn placed inside the same box that the earrings and bracelet were already in. Satisfied that nothing would get scratched, Timothy tucked the flat, narrow box into his inside jacket pocket. The he replaced a couple of envelopes with two from the small tote bag he had been carrying. Lastly, Timothy shuffled through six CD’s and pulled out one that was marked “Ben” in Wanda’s neat handwriting. Unfortunately, he had not seen that there was one other CD marked “For Benedict” that had gotten mixed in with the envelopes.

“We just renewed our homeowners insurance and car insurance, so those were the current policies I just put in here. And lest I forget, your mother has made me promise to give you this CD, which she has painstakingly created.”

“What’s on it?”

“She assures me it contains all the information you may need in the event of an emergency – if anything should happen to one or both of us.”

“Christ! How utterly morbid, Dad!”

“Morbid? Undoubtedly. However, I agree with your mother that it’s also necessary. Make sure to keep it in a safe place.”

Benedict nodded dutifully and ceased drumming his fingers as he accepted the CD marked “Ben” and placed it inside his jacket pocket.  

“No worries.  I'll make sure to lock it in my desk drawer as soon as I get home." 

"Thanks, Ben.  Your mother and I greatly appreciate it."

"So, Dad, now that the morbid business has been sorted, do you want to give me a hint as to what this meeting is all about? I’m sure it wasn’t for the sole purpose of having me here to watch you exchange Mum’s jewelry and show me where you’re putting the new insurance policies.”

Benedict watched as his father carefully rearranged the boxes and envelopes within the box so the lid would comfortably close. The envelope containing the cash had been returned to it's former place inside the box. However, Benedict failed to notice the faded rose-coloured velvet box that Timothy had taken out and put off to the side, along with a letter-sized envelope.

_Hmmm…I didn’t see him remove any money. I guess I was wrong about his intentions. I wish Dad weren’t being so mysterious. Perhaps he’s going to push for the loan after all before we surrender the room._

“This is why I asked you to come with me today,” said Timothy, pushing the rose-coloured velvet box towards his son.

“What is this?” began Benedict as he shot a bewildered look at his father.

“Open it and see for yourself,” suggested Timothy with a mischievous smile.

_Okay. I was wrong about the loan as well. I think I fucking give up. There is obviously a piece of jewelry inside this box. I wonder if Dad wants to sell whatever is in here and give me the money to use on Donna’s ring. I can’t allow him to do something like that either – even if Mum does condone it._

Benedict picked up the small box and opened it. Inside was a large, round-cut diamond engagement ring set in an old-fashioned platinum setting. There were two large baguettes and round diamonds flanking either side of the sparkling solitaire along with additional smaller diamonds. The effect was breathtaking. Benedict also immediately recognized it as having belonged to Timothy’s late mother, Pauline.

“This is Gran Pauline’s ring,” Benedict said quietly, running his finger over the brilliant setting. “I forgot just how magnificent it is. The craftsmanship is remarkable…just extraordinary.”

Timothy smiled and nodded. “That, it is. It’s quite a stunner, wouldn’t you agree?”

“It’s truly a work of art in its own right, but I thought Gran was buried with it when she passed.”

“No. Gran wanted to be buried with her wedding ring, which she was. Her wish was for her engagement ring to be passed down to her eldest grandson, who happens to be you.”

“Bloody hell! I can’t accept this, Dad! You’re her only son. This ring should be yours by rights. Mum should be wearing it.”

“Shouldn’t it just,” Timothy declared quietly. “However, your grandmother didn’t want your mother to have her diamond. She was rather specific about that.”

“Not meaning to speak ill of the deceased; but that’s just bollocks, Dad!”

“Even if it were mine to give, Benedict, your mother wouldn’t have fancied it anyway. We had discussed it only once, which was soon after your Gran had passed. I felt terrible when I found out the terms of the will and hoped your mother would find it in her heart to forgive. Luckily, your mother assured me in no uncertain terms that she’s more than happy with the ring I picked out for her for sentimental reasons and could have given a toss about any of my mother’s jewelry. The woman never made a fuss, bless her, which makes me only love her all the more. As you know, the bulk of Gran’s jewelry was left to my sister.”

“I suppose I can understand Mum’s not wanting it because she preferred to wear a ring chosen by the man she loved,” mused Benedict. “Not to mention there was no love lost between her and Gran.”

“There was a polite civility between them and that was the best I could have hoped for given the circumstances. Anyway, your Gran’s will specifically stated that her engagement ring be left to her eldest living grandson, which as I said before is you.”

“I’m her one and only grandson,” chuckled Benedict.  "Aunt Amber only has daughters."

“All of which is true. Your grandmother was extremely adamant that this ring be handed down in order to keep it in the Cumberbatch family with the hope that one day you would pass it down to one of your sons or grandsons. However, for the present, this ring is yours to give to Donna, should you wish to.”

Benedict removed the glittering ring from the box and held it in the palm of his large hand, as he whistled softly. It’s facets caught and reflected back the light causing maximum shine.

“This is one hell of a ring. To think what had once been a simple lump of carbon has been turned into something so lovely just from being properly cut,” he mused.

“Very true.”

“Christ! I didn’t realize just how heavy this ring is. It reminds me of one of those art deco cocktail rings that you see at Estate Sales. I always thought the center diamond was square, but it isn’t. Now, I can see that it’s the setting, which makes it appear that way.”

“That was the style back in the nineteen thirties, Ben.  Your mother always maintained that it was too gaudy for her taste.”

Benedict held the ring up to the light. “How it sparkles in the light! Do you have any idea what the weight of the center diamond is?”

“It’s three and a half carats and flawless,” replied Timothy, picking up the letter-sized envelope and placing it in front of Benedict. “As I’m sure you can imagine from your research, the center diamond is worth quite an impressive amount. I had it appraised as part of Gran’s estate early last year, and I’m certain that its worth a bit more now with the price of jewelry forever going up. The appraisal’s in that envelope. Make sure you keep it in a safe place.”

Benedict opened the envelope and read the appraisal. He put down the paper and shook his head in amazement.

“My fucking God! The bloody thing is worth more than what I’ve earned in the past five years! I could never, even hope to afford such a beautiful diamond - not in my wildest dreams,” he breathed.

“I believe I did tell you it was an impressive amount.”

“Impressive is putting it mildly.” Benedict turned the ring over in his hand then looked up at Timothy, who smiled reassuringly at him. “I’m utterly bewildered as to how Grandad was able to afford something so…so…extravagant.”

“You have to remember, Ben, that diamonds were a lot less expensive back then than they are now. We’re talking over seventy years ago when my father bought it. Over the years, its worth has appreciated substantially.”

“I honestly don’t know what to do, Dad. I’m so honoured that Gran wanted me to have the ring in order to keep it in the family. Now, I understand why you were stropy last night when I told you about my designing Donna’s ring. Had I only known…” Benedict let his voice trail off as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“But you didn’t. I have to take some of the blame here because I should have told you right when her will was read.”

“I was tied up filming _The Last Enemy_ the day her will was read, and the Director refused to accommodate me because we were running behind schedule.”

Timothy sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “I was so preoccupied with being the Executor of the Estate that I neglected to even mention it at the time. You and Olivia had broken up for good, and it seemed trivial at the time compared to all the other things I had to contend with in order to settle up the estate.”

“To be fair you did tell me straight away about the money Gran had left me.”

“Well, that you sorely needed at the time to make the down payment on your flat. An engagement ring not so much, though I suppose I could have given it to you to sell; but I wanted to honour the terms of the will and pass it down to you when you had found the right woman to settle down with.”

“You had no idea that I decided to design a ring for Donna, and I had no idea I had been bequeathed this ring. What would you do, Dad?”

“It’s not my decision to make, Son. It’s obvious that a lot of heart and soul went into designing the perfect engagement ring for Donna, and I see how excited you are about presenting her with it. As for my mother’s ring, technically, it’s yours to do with as you please, Ben. There’s no written law that says you’re required to keep it. The will just said Gran was leaving it to you in hopes that you would keep it in the family. You can sell it if you choose to and…”

“I would never sell Gran’s ring!” exclaimed Benedict indignantly. “But I don’t know if Donna would fancy the style. The setting is very old-fashioned…it’s massive...and …very showy. Donna’s hands are much smaller than Gran’s were. I really could use some advice here, Dad. Please.”

“Okay. My advice is quite simple. Have the center diamond removed and placed in your setting. It would make quite an impressive ring, don’t you think?”

Benedict nodded and smiled widely at his father. “That’s putting it mildly, Dad. It would be a stonker of a ring. Do you think it will be too big for Donna’s hand? Maybe Donna wouldn’t want such an ostentatious ring. What do you think?”

“I’ve seen some of Donna and Carly’s jewelry, and I’ve seen some of Toni’s jewelry. The Saint James women fancy jewelry that makes a statement,” Timothy snickered. “If you combine Gran’s diamond with your setting, you will be making quite a statement. Donna will be over the moon – trust me on that. You’ve picked a woman who adores flashy jewelry.”

“Donna is not a fool, Dad. She’ll know that I didn’t buy the entire ring. She’s well aware that I don’t have that sort of money to plunk down on diamonds.”

“You simply tell her the truth, Ben. You in fact bought half of it, and the other half is a family heirloom that was handed down to you. I can’t see that bothering Donna in the slightest – in fact I think she’d be quite honoured and proud to wear Gran’s diamond. And if it means anything to you, your mother agreed with me whilst we were discussing it last night once you’d taken leave.”

“Mum’s opinion does count for a lot.” Benedict slid the ring onto his pinky and admired it. “It really is stunning, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is. Your gran would be over the moon to know you’re going to use it.”

“I didn’t say I was going to use it. I’m thinking about it.”

“There’s nothing to think about, Son. You want to do up Donna’s ring properly but don’t have enough money to do it – correct?”

Benedict nodded sadly. “Correct. Last night I went over the figures, and I can afford to buy a half carat flawed diamond at best.  Otherwise, I'd be putting myself in debt, which I don't fancy doing.”

“You’ve just been given a family heirloom, which is not only exactly what you’ve been looking for as far as shape and quality go but over three times the size of what you were looking at.”

“Correct again.”

“You don’t have to use Gran’s setting, Ben. Just remove the center diamond and have it put into your setting. Then sell off the other diamonds and the setting and use the proceeds towards your wedding or for buying a larger house.”

“It does seem the sensible thing to do; but I’m not certain I could find it in my heart to sell the other stones or the setting. It wouldn’t seem right somehow.”

“As I said before, Ben, this ring is yours to do what you please with.”

Benedict leaned back in the chair and pondered his father’s words carefully as he studied the dazzling ring. He sighed deeply.

“Not only does what you say makes perfect sense, Dad; but it solves my dilemma as well. It will make a lovely ring.”

“Of course it does. It’s the practical solution and; as I said before, it would make your Gran very happy if she were still with us.”

“You would have made a fine salesman, Dad,” laughed Benedict. “Or a Barrister.”

“Do I take it you’re going to follow my advice then?”

“I’d be a fool not to.”

“Brilliant! Now, let’s get out of here and get a coffee at Paul’s. I suddenly have a yen for one of their praline croissants,” said Timothy Carlton.

 

 

Two weeks later:

 

Donna Saint James was in the kitchen of Benedict’s apartment, filling his glass cookie jar with the apricot almond biscotti she had baked earlier. The floor repairman had once again called to say that the was running late so she was using the time to put away the goodies that had finished cooling off while waiting for her guest to arrive.

_These biscotti and the chocolate chunk-cherry brownies I made should tide Benedict over until I get back from New York. Unless he gorges on them. Then he’ll have to resort to that box of ginger nuts that he has in his pantry._

Just as Donna replaced the lid on the cookie jar, the doorbell sounded.

_Ah, that must be Wanda!_

Donna went to the intercom and pressed the speaker. “Hello?”

“I come bearing buns for tea,” announced Wanda.

“Great! Come on up, and I’ll put the kettle on,” laughed Donna, pressing the button to unlock the front door to the house.

Next Donna unlocked and left the door to Benedict’s apartment open so Wanda could just come inside. Then she returned to the small kitchen to fill the induction kettle with water and switched it on.

“Well, I finally made it!” called out a slightly out -of –breath Wanda from the foyer.

“I’m in the kitchen, Wanda,” replied Donna. She heard the older woman shut the door, followed by her approaching footsteps on the highly polished wooden floor.

Wanda Ventham swept into the kitchen with two shopping bags, one of which was from Gail’s Bakery on Hampstead High Street. She set them down on the countertop and exchanged double-cheeked kisses with Donna.

_Oh, Wanda, how you do love to make an entrance,_ thought Donna with amusement. _I guess that’s the actress in her._

“Those stairs are a right bastard some days, and today is one of them,” complained Wanda, grimacing at the soreness in her knees. “The best thing Tim and I ever did was to buy a flat with a lift. It really pays off, especially when one gets older.”

Donna nodded. “These stairs do seem particularly steep. I try and look at it as good exercise.”

“I look upon them as a great way to aggravate my arthritis. Of course, today just happened to be the day I forgot to take my meds.”

“Can you take them now?”

“It will only throw me off schedule,” explained Wanda. “I’ll just have a sit down and solider on. Going downstairs is never as bad as going up I find.”

“That’s what my Grandpa Colin always says, which is why his rooms are on the ground floor of my parents townhouse.”

“How is Colin?”

“Oh, he’s fine. He’s been preparing to head off to Florida for the winter as soon as the holidays are over,” laughed Donna. “The day after New Year’s he packs up his car to start his journey to his condo in Palm Coast.”

“Just like Tim and I head out to our holiday home in Greece after Boxing Day,” laughed Wanda. “Crikey, it’s gotten cold as hell out there; but it’s nice and warm in here.”

“I wouldn’t know. I’ve been holed up in here most of the day,” lamented Donna. “First, the guy calls to ask if he can come early, which was fine. Then he called at noon to say he got delayed on a job but would be here first thing after lunch. Then lunch passed and he called to say he’d be here at the originally agreed to time, which has now passed.”

“Hells bells! You mean to tell me he still hasn’t shown up?”

“Nope. Right after I invited you to come over and keep me company, he called to say he was running late and would be here before five. It’s a damn good thing there isn’t a place where I can review his service…”

“There is,” snickered Wanda. “I’ll email you the link.”

“I look forward to it.”

“Would you like to go home, Donna? I can take up the watch if you’d like,” offered Wanda. “I don’t mind waiting.”

Donna shook her head. “No. I’m going to stay put and make sure he does the job right. Besides, I’ve invited you to tea so we can spend some time together before Carly and I leave for New York on Saturday.”

“Benedict mentioned he was driving you both to the airport.”

“I didn’t want him to get up that early on his day off. The Tribune was paying for a car service; but he wouldn’t hear of it.”

“I’m willing to bet that my son will ring you up Saturday morning saying how utterly knackered he is and would you mind terribly taking the car service.”

“I have no doubt that I’ll get a call from him, which is why I kept my reservation with the car service,” said Donna with a sly smile.

 

*****************************************************

 

Benedict Cumberbatch adjusted his earbuds as he exited the train at the Hampstead Heath Overground Station and began his short walk home whilst listening to the first song on Sigur Ros’ Valtari album. The air had a definite nip to it, causing Benedict to zip up his coat and pull on his gloves as he walked along South End Road. Brown, red and yellowed leaves crunched pleasantly under his feet, and he could smell smoke from wood-burning fireplaces. Benedict had successfully completed his on location filming and would only be needed for pickups the remainder of the week which would be done at a studio in London.

_Now I can spend some time with Donna before she leaves for New York. Then once she’s gone, I can ready myself to follow her. Hahaha! She’s going to be so surprised that I’m done earlier than expected. I wonder if she’s still at my flat, though I imagine the workers should be done replacing those blasted tiles by now._

 Benedict took out his mobile and rang the landline in his flat. He was surprised to hear his mother answer rather than Donna.

_**“Hello?”** _

“Hi Mum!”

**_“Funny you should ring just now. Donna and I were wondering what you were up to since neither of us has heard from you all day.”_  
**

“We started filming very early, so I was on set until we wrapped. Then I took the first train I could get back to London. I did try ringing both your mobiles; but I couldn’t get decent reception on the train. Then I started to read a book and fell asleep. It’s a damn good thing I woke up right before we pulled into Hampstead station.” **  
**

**_“You’re on your way home yes?”_  
**

“I am just about home,” chuckled Benedict. “I just crossed Constantine Road, so I’ll be making the right onto Dickenson Road shortly.”

_**“Brilliant! Donna, make that tea for three. Ben’s back in Hampstead and should be here soon.”** _

Benedict smiled when he heard Donna’s whoop of joy in the background.

“Mum, can I say hello to Donna?”

**_“Of course. Donna, Ben’s asking after you.”_  
**

Benedict smiled as soon as he heard Donna speaking. **  
**

**_“Hey Handsome! You’re done earlier than expected.”_  
**

“If that’s a problem, I can always go back,” teased Benedict.

_It’s fucking amazing that I still get butterflies in my stomach at the sound of her voice._

_**“Of course not! I can’t wait to hug you. I missed you so much!”** _

“That’s better. I skipped most of the wrap party so I could get home in time to have dinner with you.”

  _ **“I love that you’re home so early. We can’t wait to see you.”**_

“Figure me another ten minutes then. I’m starting up the hill now, so three more blocks to Hearthstone Terrace.”

_**“Great. I’ll add some more water to the kettle. Is there any particular kind of tea that you’d like?”**_

_Shit. She’s going to prepare the tea. I wish Mum would take over, but somehow I doubt it. Perhaps they’ll make it a joint venture and Mum will do the brewing. She’s had Donna’s tea before, so she knows that it can still be a hit or miss proposition._

 “Surprise me.”

 " _ **I will! Your mom brought some Chelsea buns from the Flour Station and pecan cinnamon crumb cakes from Gail’s.”**_

 “Sounds like Mum literally went on a cake walk today,” laughed Benedict.

 He could hear Donna relay what he said to Wanda and her cackle in response in the background.

_**“Is there anything else you’d like, Ben Honey?”** _

  _Aside from having a good shag later on? Yes. I’d like for you to let Mum make the tea._

 Benedict hesitated. “Erm…nope. Well…I’m really looking forward to a nice… snog.”

_**“Your mom’s here or did you forget,”**_ Donna warned in a low voice.

“Not for one second did I forget that. Besides, Mum would rather enjoy watching us snog, don’t you agree?” he snickered.

_**“No way!”** _

“Think very carefully about who we’re talking about.”

**_“Hmmm…good point.”_ ** _  
_

Benedict looked around him to make sure no one could overhear his conversation.

“I’m also horny as hell and need to be fucked properly – several times; so we’ll need to make quick work of tea time and send Mum back to Kensington tout suite.”

**_“You’re bad, Benedict.”_ **

“No, I’m not!” he insisted with a devilish laugh. “I’m just in dire need of some love and affection is all.”

**“I promise you can eat your fill of whatever your heart desires, Ben Honey.”**

_Well, well. Donna’s getting awfully brazen with the double entendre in front of Mum. Mum’s sharp and will pick up on it. I don’t think Donna realizes just how bawdy Mum can be in her own right._

He heard Wanda ask a question in the background and Donna cover the mouthpiece and respond: _**“Your son’s been telling me how ravenous he is. He can’t wait to eat some of these goodies we have here.”**_

“Who’s being bad now, you very naughty girl?”

Donna laughed heartily. **“Walk faster. The sooner you get home, the sooner you can eat.”**

“I can’t eat what my heart desires until Mum takes her leave.”

Donna giggled in response. **“See you soon. Love you!”**

“Love you, too, Darling. Cheers.”

 

***********************************************************

 

“It sounds like my son fell asleep on the train and didn’t eat,” mused Wanda Ventham as she added more water to the kettle and switched it back on. “Poor thing must have quite an appetite.”

_For sex. My son’s randy and looking to get laid as soon as I leave, bless him. I can tell by the way Donna was doing her coquettish giggle. She always does that whenever Benedict says something that she considers risqué. The blush on her cheeks is also a dead giveaway. It’s all fine though. I’m chuffed that they lust after each other like that – it’s healthy for a relationship. Hell, Tim and I still do after all the years we’ve been together._

_Oh, your son’s got a voracious appetite, Wanda. Just not for food,_ Donna giggled inwardly. _And I’m just as horny as he is. There’s no denying it. Our sex drives have been in overdrive lately._

Wanda smiled knowingly at her as she took some plates and beakers from a cabinet and began to unpack the bakery bags. Donna felt her cheeks redden.

_She knows exactly what we were talking about._

“So what kind of tea does Ben fancy?”

“He told me to surprise him,” replied Donna, opening the cabinet where Benedict stored his tea. “Shit. I keep forgetting that I need a step stool to get to it.”

“That’s because he’s fond of having everything at eye level – his eye level.”

Donna dragged the step stool Benedict had purchased for her use and opened it. She climbed up and looked through the various tins and boxes of tea.

“Holy cow! He keeps adding to his tea collection every time I come over!” exclaimed Donna. “I wonder when he finds time to drink all of it?”

"He doesn't. If you take a close look, you’ll notice that many are half-finished and some haven't even been opened yet,” said Wanda. “His favourite has always been Earl Grey, especially when Tim mixes it with the Lapsang Souchan.”

Donna laughed. “I can see that! He’s got four different brands and three different variations – one with lavender, one made from yellow tea leaves and one made from green tea leaves.  I don't see any Lapsang Souchan though.”

“I remember buying him and Early Grey blend that had dark chocolate bits in it,” said Wanda. “Let’s have that one if you can find it. It’s made by TWG.”

Donna began to push the boxes and tins around. “Okay. Let’s see…what’s this?   Detox tea? He hasn’t even opened that one. This is his Assam collection. Good gravy! Some of these are past their expiration date and some of these don’t even have one. Maybe I should throw the expired ones out? What do you think, Wanda?”

“I think I wouldn’t toss out anything if I were you, Love. It’s never pretty once he’s found out – trust me on that. Ben’s got a memory like an elephant; he knows every type of tea in that cupboard.”

“He does have an excellent memory, that’s for sure,” agreed Donna.

“Tea will keep for a year or a bit more, depending on the type of tea,” explained Wanda. “Anything more than that, and it begins to lose its flavour. It’s best to just leave it be and he’ll toss them eventually.”

Wanda filled Benedict’s Brown Betty teapot with hot water as well as the three beakers in order to warm them. Then she heated some milk in the microwave and poured it into a pitcher.

“There’s a few more things all the way in the back,” said Donna. “I think I can just reach them.”

Donna moved aside a tin of Russian Caravan tea, and a plastic container filled with honey sticks that moved to the front. There was also a long-forgotten jar of previously-opened honey, whose remnants had crystalized. There sat the tin of chocolate Earl Grey tea and one with a faded label from Fortnum and Mason that was labeled “Lemon Grass.”

“Ah ha! Persistence pays off! I found your chocolate Earl Grey!” said Donna triumphantly as she reached in and pulled out the small tin and handed it down to Wanda, who measured out the tea into the pot’s strainer.

“Hmmm…I’ve never had lemon grass tea before. Shall we make a pot of that, too?”

There was no response from Wanda.

“Wanda?”

Donna looked back over her shoulder to find herself alone in the kitchen.

“Did you say something, Donna?” asked Wanda from the living room area. “I’m laying the table.”

“Never mind,” called out Donna. “I’m just going to try another kind of tea that I found.”

_Why the heck not? We’ll have a nice little tea tasting._

Donna took the tin and carefully arranged the other teas back where she had originally found them. She climbed down and got out a modern-looking white china teapot and tea scoop. She filled it with hot water and attempted to open the tea tin only to find that the lid wasn’t budging.

_Son of a bitch! This one’s on so frigging tight! Sometimes Ben doesn’t know his own strength when he puts the lids back on._

Donna pulled and pulled and finally was able to pry the lid off the tin. A peculiar odor assaulted her nostrils, causing her to pull back and grimace.

_Whoa hoa!! This tea must be way over a year old! It smells horrible._

There was also a plastic packet with white rectangular papers inside.

_That’s my Ben for you. It looks like he also makes his own tea bags. Is there nothing this man can’t do? I’ve found a treasure in him – I really have. I think I’m going to go over to Fortnum and get some of these for my loose tea and try my hand at making my own tea bags._

“The table’s laid and all we need is Benedict,” said Wanda as she breezed into the kitchen and immediately halted upon seeing and smelling what Donna had discovered.

_Holy motherfucking hell! She’s found Ben’s weed. I wonder if he’s told her about his occasional indulgence. Hmm…it looks like she intends to brew it for tea, so I’m going to guess no._

Donna turned to face Wanda as she joined her at the counter. She indicated the open tin on the countertop.

“Looks like I found one that’s way past its expiration date,” laughed Donna.

“Oh, you certainly don’t want to be brewing that, Love,” said Wanda carefully.

“You can rest easy, Wanda. I have no intention of brewing this foul-smelling stuff! It’s a good thing there’s only a tiny bit left. I’ll just dump the whole thing.”

“No! Please don’t bin it, Donna!”

“Why not? It smells God-awful! Like this pungent and sweet combination of feces and rotting flowers and grass and fruit… the stench is unlike anything I’ve ever smelled.”

“It’s not spoilt,” insisted Wanda. “Believe me, it’s perfectly fine.”

Donna barked out a laugh. “I don’t know about that, Wanda. It smells retched – like something died – like…”

“Donna, haven’t you ever smelt weed before?”

Donna dropped the measuring spoon on the countertop and put the lid securely back on the tin as if there were bugs in it.  

_Did Wanda just say this is weed? I must have been hearing things. She must have been joking that it smells like old weeds._

“Excuse me? What did you just say this was?”

“Weed…you know…grass…pot…cannabis...marijuana.”

“No,” said Donna slowly, looking Wanda in the eye. “I don’t know. Whatever I do know was learned either in school or from reading. I’m afraid I’ve been totally blindsided by this…development.”

_So, Benedict keeps a stash of weed in his kitchen. I had no idea._

_For fucks sake! How can Donna not recognize weed when she sees and smells it?_

 “I thought you knew,” said Wanda evenly.

“I knew he had experimented with it while he was at Harrow; but I had no idea until this very moment that he still partook of it. I guess this is one of the things he prefers to keep it private.”

_This must have been one of the things that he was referring to on the roof that time. He didn’t want me to know for fear I would freak out on him and break up with him, which I certainly have no intention of doing. However, I would like to hear more about this now that my curiosity is peaked._

_Donna really hadn’t a clue, bless her. My stupid son should have confided in her about our little Mothering Day tradition, particularly since she can be so prudish about some things. I hope this little discovery isn’t going to cause a rift in their relationship._

“I’m really surprised Ben’s never mentioned it - why I was under the impression that he tells you _everything_.”

“Not about this. I guess he preferred to keep it to himself.”

_Hells bells! For once my son turned on his mouth filter and kept it on. Now, I’ve opened up a potential can of worms. If I cock this up for Ben, he’ll disown me for sure. I should have let Donna think it was tea, but then she wanted to brew it. I had to say something._

“Well, knowing my Ben, he’d come out with it sooner or later. He’s never been one to keep secrets for long.”

“He seems to have done an excellent job at keeping this one,” remarked Donna with a slight smirk.

_Benedict did say there were some things everyone needs to keep for themselves only, and this seems to be one of his. Lord knows, I’m not in a position to judge him; as I’m keeping a huge secret of my own. The man is entitled to his secrets.  
_

Donna turned up her nose in distaste. “It really does smell horrible.”

“As I said before, it’s not fouled. It’s perfectly fine. That’s what it smells like before it’s smoked.”

“I hope it tastes better than it smells.”

“Oh yes, I can assure you it does or I’d never be able to stomach it,” replied Wanda. “This batch was exceptionally high quality.”

_Just when you think you’ve heard everything,_ thought Donna with amusement. _I wonder if Timothy is in on this, too? The family that smokes together, stays together._

 

*******************************************************

 

Benedict Cumberbatch let himself inside his flat and all sorts of smells filled his nose immediately.

“Hello! I’m home from the salt mines!” he called out. “I can’t wait to have a proper cuppa with two of the loveliest ladies I know.”

There was no response.

“Hello? Donna? Mum? Where is everyone?”

There was no response.

_Bloody hell – they were just here speaking with me on the phone. Everything was fine, and we were going to have tea together. What’s going on?_

“Hello?”

_Okay. They’re obviously playing with me_ , thought Benedict as he removed his coat, gloves and scarf. _Maybe Mum went home, and Donna’s waiting for me in bed dressed in one of those sexy lingerie sets or better still – naked._

Benedict quickly toed off his shoes, shoved his feet into his worn blue corduroy slippers and made his way into the lounge area. He stopped short when he saw that the dining table had been laid for three for tea by his mother, which he could tell from the way she folded the paper serviettes. His glass biscuit jar had been filled with perfectly lined-up biscotti. He could hear voices coming from the galley kitchen as he came to a stop at the entrance to the kitchen.

_So much for getting laid straight away. They’re both in the kitchen. I smell some sort of baking…and …hmm…I’ll be damned if that doesn’t smell like…particularly pungent weed?_

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Pauline Ellen Laing Cogdon Cumberbatch passed away in 2007, so Olivia wouldn’t have been offered the ring in this universe, as Pauline was still alive at the time my version of Benedict proposed to her.
> 
> 2\. That is a photo of a vintage engagement ring from the 1930's. 
> 
> 3\. I had always planned on Benedict being left his grandmother's ring and it was always going to be a large diamond in the neighborhood of three carats, but when I read that the one he picked in real life was three and a half carats, I decided to go with reality.
> 
> 4\. Thank you to all those who continue to leave kudos. It is greatly appreciated.


	120. Chapter 120

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A baffling afternoon of waffling and a night of confessions for Benedict. 
> 
> Warning: Drugs are discussed in this chapter, so if easily offended please skip to the end of the chapter.
> 
> Note: I’ll be using ********* for things happening at the same time.

 

 

Benedict Cumberbatch found his girlfriend and mother standing by the countertop having a discussion over a tea tin that he sincerely hoped he was imagining.

“Excuse me? What did you just say this was?” asked Donna with a slight frown.

Wanda was regarding Donna as if she had grown two heads. “Weed…you know…grass…pot…cannabis...marijuana.”

Benedict froze in his tracks, unable to move or speak. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest as he broke out into a sweat.

_Jesus fucking Christ! How in motherfucking hell did those two manage to get on such a topic? What lovely little incriminating anecdote has Mum been relaying to Donna? Donna looks as if she’s been sucking on a lemon._

 “No,” said Donna slowly, looking Wanda in the eye. “I don’t know. Whatever I do know was learned either in school or from reading. I’m afraid I’ve been totally blindsided by this…development.”

_Oh, God, no! It’s just as I feared. Donna’s never touched it, and I’m willing to bet that she doesn’t condone using it either. She’s wearing her holier-than-thou expression. I shouldn’t be surprised. Donna’s been a Prissy Polly from the start._

 “I thought you knew,” said Wanda skeptically.

_No, she didn’t, Mum._

“I knew he had experimented with it while he was at Harrow; but I had no idea until this very moment that he still partook of it. I guess he preferred to keep it private.”

_Crap. Donna’s definitely getting the wrong idea, and Mum isn’t helping matters. I can’t have her thinking I indulge myself all the time when I don’t!_

“I’m really surprised Ben’s never mentioned it - why I was under the impression that he tells you _everything_.”

_Not everything, Mother – especially not about this former little hedonistic treat of mine.  
_

“Not about this. I guess he preferred to keep it private.”

_Yes, I did want to keep that tidbit under my hat, but now Mum’s gone and done it, bless her.  
_

“Well, knowing my Ben, he’d come out with it sooner or later. He’s never been one to keep secrets for long.”

“He seems to have done an excellent job at keeping this one,” remarked Donna.   She turned up her nose in distaste. “It really does smell horrible.”

“As I said before, it’s not fouled or spoilt in any way. It’s perfectly fine,” insisted Wanda. “That’s what it smells like before it’s smoked.”

“I hope it tastes better than it smells.”

_Of course it does. Next thing I know, Mum will be offering to roll her a spliff so she can taste it for herself. I need to see exactly what it is they have out on the counter. I can’t tell for certain from where I’m standing. I can’t imagine where they could have possibly found pot in here, because there isn’t any! Maybe the former tenant had some stashed away that Donna just happened to come across? I could swear that all the cupboards were empty when I moved in._

“Oh yes, I can assure you it does or I’d never be able to stomach it,” chortled Wanda. “It smells so much better when it’s being smoked. It smells like…”

“I know what it smells like, Wanda. I’ve smelled it when I was away at college,” interrupted Donna impatiently. “And I’ve smelled it at outdoor concerts.”

_If only I could will my fucking feet to move,_ thought Benedict, now on the verge of panic. _I feel like I’m in the midst of a bad dream. Donna’s getting that irritated edge to her voice. I wish I knew what she’s thinking. It’s hard to tell sometimes, and this is one of them._

 “Are you _sure_ this isn’t just spoiled tea and these are for making his own tea bags?” asked Donna, holding up the plastic bag full of white papers.

_Fuckity fuck fuck. Donna’s somehow found rolling papers as well, but I haven’t rolled a fag or a spliff in an age. I can’t believe she thinks those are for bloody tea bags? Oh, my darling, clueless Donna! How can you be so naïve about some things?_

“ _Quite_ sure,” confirmed Wanda. “You use them for rolling spliffs or fags, not for making tea sachets.”

“Well, I’m not totally convinced,” said Donna skeptically. “I once watched Benedict roll his own cigarettes, and the papers looked different from these.”

_Oh, she’s referring to when I was in rehearsals for The Turning Point. Come to think of it, I did roll a few of my own for that because I couldn’t stomach those shit herbal ones after a while. I remember how fascinated she was watching me do it._

“Like everything else, Donna, there are different brands of rolling paper.”

“You sure know a lot about it,” observed Donna drily.

_Yes, Mum does knows enough to hold her own in this nightmare of a conversation_.

“I fancy myself a former wild child of the sixties,” giggled Wanda.

“You would have been in your thirties back then,” pointed out Donna.

_And Mum still is a wild child in so many ways,_ thought Benedict miserably.

“True, but it was never openly discussed until much later on.”

_I need to wedge myself in there and do some damage control, though I don’t see how I can. Donna looks …I’m not sure…disappointed in me. I hope to hell this isn’t going to cock up our relationship. I don’t think I could bear that. I feel like I’m seriously going to puke. I need to sound calm, as if nothing’s amiss._

“So, what are you lovely ladies up to? Brewing some tea?” inquired Benedict, plastering a big smile on his face as he walked over on unsteady feet to join the two women at the counter. He put an arm around each of their shoulders, as he eyes roamed the surface of the countertop. There was just the bag of slightly yellowed rolling papers, his tea scoop and a tin of tea from Fortnum and Mason.

“Ben!” smiled Wanda, as he leaned down to kiss her on the cheek. “We were just having a discussion about cannabis.”

“I feel as if Wanda is teaching a master class,” quipped Donna, patting Wanda’s forearm. “And I'm her student.”

“And you’re coming across as quite the authority,” he breathed into his mother’s ear. “Don’t you think that’s enough for one lesson?”

_And Mum has the bollocks to say I don’t turn on my mouth filter? Donna’s comment sounded a bit snarky. I need to change the subject._

“How lovely, Mum,” Benedict said sarcastically. “What a novel topic of conversation, which I’m sure Donna’s not the least bit interested in.”

_Hells bells! He does look awful. I wonder if he’s sick,_ thought Wanda.

 “Oh, but I am. I’m _very_ interested in hearing more,” retorted Donna. “We can never learn enough in this life as you like to remind me, _Honey_ ; and this definitely qualifies as something I know very little about.”

_That was the sarcastic version of Honey. Damn my big mouth. Why do I continually spout such rubbish? I’m just a motherfucking fountain of rubbish._

Benedict looked at Donna warily. Their eyes met for a brief moment. She appeared as if she were struggling with coming to a decision. Benedict blanched considerably as a sick feeling began to fill the pit of his stomach. He smiled at Donna and leaned down to kiss her lightly on the lips. The feeling eased a bit when he felt her return the kiss with what seemed to be genuine enthusiasm.

_Okay. She kissed me back, so maybe this won’t be too bad. I still feel like puking though.  
_

_My honey is looking very guilty, not to mention all the color has drained out of his face. Wanda spilled the beans, and he’s in a panic that I’m pissed off. I’m not sure how I feel about it…it is funny that Wanda’s such a self-proclaimed expert on the subject. What I do know is that I’m thrilled that he’s back early and need to kiss those gorgeous cupids bow lips of his!  
_

“Welcome home,” Donna said, smiling up at him. “I found this buried behind your tea collection and wanted to try it,” she said, indicating the tea tin on the countertop before her. “I guess it’s a good thing I didn’t try to brew it, eh?”

Benedict frowned as he studied the tin from Fortnum and Mason.

_So, this is what apparently launched their conversation - an innocent tin of motherfucking tea of all blasted things?_

“Oh, I sincerely doubt Fortnum and Mason has expanded their line of herbal teas to include weed,” Benedict joked. “Let’s have a look, shall we?”

_There can’t possibly be weed in this tin - unless Mum brought some over and didn’t tell me? On second thought that’s highly unlikely, even for Mum._

Benedict picked up the tin, pried off the lid and took a whiff. He pulled a disgusted face at the scent and pretended to involuntarily shiver as he took a good look at the tin.

_I’m fucked. It’s weed alright, but where in the fuck did it come from? This tin is fairly old though. Fortnum doesn’t even offer this blend any more. Oh…Christ. Now I remember what happened. Liv and I filled the empty tin once the tea was finished because we figured storing grass in a container labeled lemongrass was oh-so very clever. Then we forgot about it, which would be so like us. Liv must have packed it up for me when I was moving out of our flat. When I was unpacking, I probably just tossed it into the cupboard with the rest of my shit and forgot about it or it could have been Adam or Dennis unpacked it. I remember they both helped me with the move.  
_

“Why the face? It’s perfectly good,” Wanda persisted, pushing her sleeves up over her elbows.

“Well?” asked Donna. “You’ve always prided yourself on being the tea expert, Ben.”

_Think, Benedict, think! You need to come up with a believable story so Donna doesn’t think the worst of you – if she doesn’t already. Oh, wait. I think I know exactly what to tell her. Yes! It’s a perfectly plausible story and should convince her that I’m really no longer into it. Hopefully, Mum will understand what I’m trying to do and back me up.  
_

Benedict was suddenly overcome as a giddy feeling of relief washed over him. He felt as if his knees were going to buckle underneath him.

_Okay, Benedict. Get hold of yourself. It’s time to put your improvisation skills to good use._

Benedict immediately put the lid back on the tin and tossed it into the waste bin that he kept under the sink. He wiped the beads of perspiration off his forehead with the back of his hand and shot Wanda a meaningful look.

_Why did my son just bin that? Why is he glaring daggers at me?_

“For fucks sake! You definitely don’t want to be drinking this shit! Believe me, it isn’t good!” Benedict said to Donna. “It’s definitely spoilt.”

“Whatever do you mean, Benedict?” demanded a bewildered Wanda. “Of course it’s still good. Weed has a long shelf life.”

_So far, Mum’s not getting it.  
_

_How can my son say that? Is his nose stuffed up? The nose that was once the pride of Penhaligon’s in Piccadilly?_

Donna shook her head as if to clear it. “God, the things you learn about people,” she murmured. “I’d never had taken you two for pot aficionados.”

Benedict interrupted her thoughts as he leaned back against the counter and broke out into nervous laughter. Then he spied the packet of rolling papers and tossed them into the waste bin as well.  _Shit!  I'm fucked every which way today; but not the way I want to be!_

“This isn’t weed, Mum! Donna’s right – it’s just an old tin of lemongrass tea that’s gone bad, and those really were just paper filters to make my own tea bags with. You can see for yourself that they’ve yellowed with age.”

It was Wanda’s turn to shake her head. “Whatever do you mean? I certainly know pot when I smell it,” she insisted adamantly. “And those papers come like that.”

_What fresh hell is this? What game is Ben playing? Could it be that my son is afraid of what Donna is thinking? She doesn’t appear to be angry, just startled a bit. He needs to explain things to her so there are no misunderstandings._

Benedict made eyes at Wanda to stop talking. “Not this time, Mum…”

_Not this time,_ thought Donna _. It_ s _eems like there were other times. I can’t even imagine the cross examination if Mom were here.  
_

“…believe me – these papers are very old as is the _tea_. It’s definitely _off_. Why don’t you have another smell of it? You’ll see that I’m right.”

Wanda’s ice blue eyes met Benedict’s, and his intention suddenly dawned on her.

_Ben wants me to shut up. He does realize it isn’t tea and is attempting to fabricate a story to pacify Donna, so she doesn’t get stropy with him or worse. He’s concerned that she doesn’t approve, and it will become an issue between them._

“Fine!” said Wanda turning up her palms in surrender. “I bow to the expert nose in the room. If you say it’s off, then off it must be.”

Benedict smiled nervously at his lover and rubbed the back of his neck before continuing.

“I remember Olivia – my ex - bought me that tea from Fortnum’s for my birthday whilst I was still living in Shepherd’s Bush. It must be several years old at best. I hated it, but felt guilty because it was so expensive.”

“Lemongrass isn’t expensive,” interrupted Donna. “The ingredients on the tin are listed as: black tea, lemongrass and crystallized ginger. None of which are expensive.”

_Fuck me. That’s just like Donna to take time to read the ingredients label, bless her. Let me have another go at it._

“It was a _rare_ black tea,” retorted Benedict. “That’s what made it so expensive.”

_No, it wasn’t_ , thought Donna. _Who are you trying to bullshit, Benedict?  Not to mention you're doing a piss-poor job of it._

“Hmmm…the price tag under the tin shows it was only five pounds, so it couldn’t have been _that_ rare.”

Benedict barked out a nervous laugh as he scratched his head. “I’m such a git! I must have confused it with another variety of tea she bought me then!”

Donna stared at him and raised a questioning eyebrow.

_Oh, you’re not confused, Benedict. You’re busy concocting a shaggy-dog story, as Grandpa Colin used to say when we were kids and trying to pull a fast one. If Mom were here, she’d be having a ball poking holes in this convoluted explanation. I think I’ll let him finish so I can see how he tries to waffle his way out of this corner he’s nicely painted himself into._

“Anyway, rather than bin it, I stashed the bloody thing in the back of the cupboard when I moved in here.”

“Why on earth would you do that?” asked Donna. “Why keep something you didn’t like?”

_Is this what I’m like when they refer to me as Barrister Ben? This is bloody exhausting, it is._

“It was with the intent of giving it another try one day, only I forgot about it. I assure you that the only pot I keep in this kitchen are cooking vessels made from stainless steel.”

_Bullshit, Honey,_ thought Donna, side-eyeing Wanda.

Wanda stood demurely looking at her wedding rings as if the conversation suddenly bored her. However, she had been taking in every word. _  
_

_Ben’s putting on a performance for Donna’s benefit and doing a right lousy job of it. She knows he’s fabricated a story to appease her. He really needs to tell her everything before there’s trouble over something that should be no big deal. I think I’ll help him out of this right mess.  
_

“Ben, I thought for certain that you always kept your…”

“Well, you thought wrong, _Mother_ ,” snarled Benedict. “I’d be daft to store it in the bloody house for fucks sake! I only buy enough for one use.”

_Why did I say that? Look at Donna’s face. She must think I smoke it all the time. Bloody hell! I need to set things right before she jumps to conclusions.  
_

_So much for keeping his fucking mouth filter on,_ thought Wanda. _I did just tell her that he’d come out with it sooner or later. Sooner it was._

Donna gazed at Benedict with peaked curiosity. “I think I’d like to hear more about this little…vice of yours.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t call it a vice,” said Benedict. He crinkled his nose at her and gave her the dimpled, lopsided smile. “If anything, it’s more akin to a guilty pleasure.”

_And now I need to turn on my mouth filter before I further incriminate myself than I already have. I still don’t know how Donna really feels about this revelation that I’ve occasionally indulged myself.  
_

_Oh, good. He’s going to tell her after all. Honesty is the best policy – in most matters. I just hope to hell Donna keeps her mouth shut about the Plan.  
_

“Absolutely! That’s exactly how I would describe it – a guilty pleasure or a debauched little treat, if you will,” added Wanda with a bawdy laugh.

“I _really_ wish you’d refrain from using words like debauched, Mum,” hissed Benedict.

Donna raised her eyebrows at Benedict. “Debauched treat?” He could see a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.   “I like that description,” she mused.

Wanda smiled slyly at her son. “Well, that is what it’s like, wouldn’t you agree, Ben? A naughty little secret that’s best enjoyed once a year or so – as we do.”

_Thank you, Wanda_ , thought Donna with relief _. Now, you’ve completed the puzzle for me. It sounds as if he only uses it once in a while. I was worried for nothing. I needed to trust my first instincts. Benedict’s not the type to abuse something like that._

“Erm…I _really_ hadn’t planned on elaborating any more, Mum,” snarled Benedict. “I don’t think it’s relevant. So, erm…what kind of tea are we having then?”

Donna looked from Benedict to Wanda and shrugged. “To each his own, I suppose. Now, if my mom and I want to enjoy a guilty pleasure together, we go to Serendipity and have one of their frozen hot chocolates with the blue corn nachos with cheddar and goat cheese.”

_It sounds as if she’s not all that bothered by it; however, the snarky comment wasn’t lost on me,_ thought Benedict _._

“That sounds delicious!” exclaimed Wanda. “I’ve never had a frozen hot chocolate.”

“Their recipe is online,” said Donna. “I guarantee you’ll love it!”

“We could add that to our roster of nibbles for the next time, Ben,” laughed Wanda. “We’re always looking for something new to try, because we always get peckish whenever we smoke. What do you think?”

“I think I just noticed that these floor tiles haven’t been replaced yet,” observed Benedict with a frown. “What’s up with that, Donna?”

_And Benedict is letting us know in no uncertain terms that this conversation is now over with,_ thought Donna. _Wanda, you have been dismissed for the time being. I’ve got some more questions, but they can wait until we are alone._

“They are supposedly on their way,” replied Donna with a weary wave of her hand. “You wouldn’t believe it if I told you.”

“Go ahead. I’m a captive audience,” retorted Benedict, picking up the teapot and plate of sweets. “Why don’t you tell me whilst we have our tea then?”

_Hmmm…Tim should be here any time as well,_ thought Wanda glancing at her watch. _I’d better let Ben in on our little surprise as soon as we’re alone._

The three sat at Benedict’s dining table as Donna told him of the various delays pertaining to the laying of the replacement kitchen floor tiles.

“I’ve always loved how you can see the London skyline from this table,” remarked Wanda. “There’s something very relaxing about it.”

“Absolutely,” agreed Donna. “This apartment has some beautiful views...Hampstead Heath and the London skyline from the back of the house and the quaint little street from the front.  I like how you can also see a little of the village from the loft.”

“That was one of the selling points, besides the proximity to the Heath and village,” said Benedict, sipping his tea. “I love living here. I can’t imagine living anywhere else.”

_Benedict has said this countless times,_ thought Donna. _Does he realize that if we are to marry there wouldn’t be enough room to raise a family larger than three. He’s only got one extra bedroom, which he uses for storage. He’d have to move sooner or later. I’ll cross that bridge when and if we come to it._

“Oops! I forgot the biscotti!” exclaimed Donna. “I wanted you to taste them, Wanda.”

Both Benedict and Wanda watched as Donna disappeared into the kitchen. When they were both fairly certain that Donna was out of earshot, they leaned in close to each other.

“What in bloody fucking hell is going on here?” he demanded angrily. “I come home early to find my mother in the midst of instructing my girlfriend on the finer points of canabis etiquette.”

“Well, someone apparently has to. I was personally shocked at just how naïve Donna can be at times.”

“I thought you wanted her to be your daughter-in-law one day.”

“I do!”

“You could have fooled me! You’re doing a jolly good job of making sure she leaves me. Donna is not very approving or haven’t you noticed?”

“Stop being ridiculous, Benedict. You’re doing some serious over reacting, not to mention over acting as well. Donna hasn’t said one negative word about it other than to express her curiosity about it and that it smells horrible.  She appears to be more amused by it than anything.”

“It’ll be coming, Mum. Trust me.”

“I think you need to give Donna more credit than you do at times, and I also think you need to sort it out with her once we’ve gone. I had no idea you were coming back today.”

“You’re the second person to mention that,” quipped Benedict. “Is there a problem? I didn’t intend to interfere with your lesson on how to identify weed. Were you planning on demonstrating on how to roll a spliff next?”

“Stop being cheeky, Benedict. I had no idea you hadn’t ever mentioned it to her.”

“Of course I hadn’t! You bloody well know just how rigid and judgmental Donna can be. Does she strike you as the type to condone my occasional use?”

Wanda shook her head. “No. I’m sure the parents are responsible for her rigid attitude at times. They are the types who only see things in black and white, which is sad because there are so many shades of gray in this world.”

Benedict sighed. “That’s so true, and it makes me appreciate that I was brought up in a gray household. However, to be fair, Donna’s loosened up quite a bit since we first met. I think you may be right though– at least I hope you are. She really doesn’t _seem_ to be all that bothered by it.”

“Then why were you acting as if the world had come to an end?”

_Because I’m afraid of what will happen if it turns out that she isn’t tolerant.  
_

“I realize I’m waffling here, Mum; but I wasn’t sure until just a few minutes ago. I don’t think Donna’s too chuffed about it; but at least I doubt she’s going to leave me over something so trivial…well, it’s trivial to us. It may not be to her…I don’t think it is…I hope it isn’t. Christ! I don’t know what I think anymore. I just want to get this sorted out…or perhaps I should just let it lie. It’s part of my past; and whatever happened in the past needs to remain there.”

“Amen to that. I’m all for not resurrecting the past.” _Especially the Plan. That’s in the past and needs to remain there at all costs._ “What’s keeping her?” Wanda asked, looking towards the kitchen. “How long does it take to plate some biscuits?” _Unless she’s trying to have a listen to our conversation._

Benedict chuckled. “Knowing Donna, she’s taking her time arranging the biscuits just right. As she’s fond of saying: it’s all about the presentation. By the way when you said when ‘we’ leave, was that the royal ‘we’ or are we expecting company?”

“Your father and I thought it would be nice to treat Donna to dinner tonight for her birthday since you weren’t supposed to be here. He was going to pick up her gift at Liberty and come right over.”

“Liberty? That’s a very posh store,” observed Benedict. “May I ask what you bought her?”

“An exclusive Liberty passport holder. It’s a floral design made of purple leather. They were out of stock, so I had to order it. The shipment just came in today, so I sent your father over to collect it.”

Benedict gave a low whistle. “That sounds pretty pricey.”

“Nothing but the best for our future daughter-in-law,” grinned Wanda.

“She’s not your future daughter-in-law yet.”

“Oh, I’m utterly confident that she will be.”

“That was very lovely and thoughtful of you both to think of Donna. Where did you make the dinner booking?”

“The Stag. It’s close by and the food is consistently good. I’ll go to the loo so I can ring them up to change it to four.”

“There’s no need, I’m sure they’ll make room for me. That’s the beauty of picking my local – they would never turn me away.”

Benedict poured himself another cup of tea and added cream and two demerara sugars. “Donna will be touched that you and Dad are giving her such a fine birthday send off.”

“Just think - the next time your father and I see Donna, she’ll be wearing your ring,” smiled Wanda. “How exciting is that just?”

“Hopefully,” said Benedict, rubbing the back of his neck.

“You worry too much, Ben. Donna loves you very much; and I’m sure she’s been anxiously waiting for you to pop the question. Of course she’s going to accept.”

“The closer it gets to my departure, the more nervous I’m getting. I just want everything to be perfect.”

“I’m sure it will be from everything you’ve told me. You know it’s been an age since I helped Tracy to plan her wedding. What fun it will be to have another chance!”

“Erm…but Tracy was your daughter. Donna has a mother to stick her nose…I mean help her…”

“No. You were right the first time. Toni will definitely be sticking her nose into everything.”

_And you won’t? Now, that’s good for a giggle._

“Shhhh…I don’t want Donna to hear us talking about this!”

“Do we need a refill on the tea or anything else?” came Donna’s voice from the kitchen.

“No!” replied Benedict. “We just need you to please come and join us.”

Mother and son sipped their tea in silence. Benedict’s thoughts had turned to how he was going to propose, whilst Wanda’s had turned to Mothering Days past.

“You know, I was just thinking, we’ve missed our Mothering Day Tradition the past couple of years, Ben,” remarked Wanda in a low voice. “Perhaps in light of everything, we should reinstate it whilst Donna’s in New York.”

 

****************************************************

 

Donna Saint James was preoccupied with arranging some of the biscotti on a small plate when Wanda’s words drifted in from the dining area and caught her attention.

“You know, I was just thinking, we’ve missed our Mothering Day tradition the past couple of years, Ben. Perhaps in light of everything, we should reinstate it whilst Donna’s in New York.”

_I wonder what Mothering Day tradition she’s referring to that she has to speak in such hushed tones about it? She apparently doesn’t want me to know about it, which I find very odd._

Donna tiptoed to the kitchen entrance and peeked out to better hear what was going on. Wanda was sitting quietly, waiting for a response. Benedict seemed to be blatantly ignoring her comment. He sat stoically at the table, sipping his tea and gazing out the window at London in the distance.

_I know that look. He’s not going to answer her unless pressed._

“I really do miss our special time together,” continued Wanda sadly. “We used to have such a giggle!”

_Maybe Benedict used to take her out for tea at the Savoy and didn’t this year because of me. They always seem to go there for special occasions. I would feel horrible if that were the case. I wonder what happened the year before. Oh, I think that was the year Tim's mom passed away or was it last year?  If the woman were ill, then maybe their plans were curtailed.  However, that’s unlike Benedict to not observe a tradition, especially two years in a row. He’s such a stickler for traditions from the way he’s always going on about them.  
_

“You’re being louder than you realize, Mother,” Benedict hissed. “Voices carry quite well in this flat.”

_Yes, they do, Ben Honey. Loud and clear. If you had carpeting, window treatments and some pictures on the walls, it would go a long way to muffle the sounds. I really do appreciate it today however.  
_

Wanda huffed with annoyance and lowered her voice a bit. “So, what do you think of my idea then?”

“I think I’m going to ring the wanker and see what’s keeping him,” declared Benedict impatiently. “Do you have the number of the floor bloke handy, Donna?” he called out.

Donna backed away into the kitchen quickly before either of them saw her. “It’s right here on the refrigerator. I’ll bring it out with me,” she replied, taking it with her as she returned to the table with the plate full of cookies and sat down. “These are apricot and toasted almond biscotti. I hope you like them.”

Wanda helped herself to one and dunked it in her tea. “Mmmm…delightful. I’ve always fancied biscotti, but they’re often overdone. My dental work appreciates that these aren’t too hard.”

“I couldn’t help hearing you two talking about Mothering Day,” began Donna.

Benedict took the paper from Donna and removed his mobile from his front jeans pocket. He glared at Wanda as if to say I-told-you-so.

_Bloody hell! Ben was right. Voices really do carry frightfully well in here. Damn. I wonder if she overheard us discussing her birthday dinner and the proposal._

“What is Mothering Day exactly, Wanda? I got the impression it’s the UK version of our Mothers Day?”

“Exactly,” replied Wanda. “You and Ben were in the early days of your courtship when this year’s came around.”

_Courtship. I love those quaint, old-fashioned words. Grandpa Colin is also fond of using courtship, and I like how he always refers to Benedict as my beau._

“The date varies each year. It’s always the fourth Sunday of Lent, which means it falls in March or April,” added Benedict. “Yours is celebrated in May, I believe.”

Donna nodded. “Yes, it always falls on the second Sunday in May. I like that Fathers Day is celebrated on the same day here and at home.  I was feeling kind of down because I missed both this year. I remember Carly, Steve and I did Skype calls with them while they were having breakfast and we were having lunch. It was nice that we could see them, but its not the same as being there in person.”

“Well, you’ll be there for your Thanksgiving,” said Wanda, patting Donna’s hand. “I’m sure your family is counting the days until your arrival.”

“Oh, I know they are!” laughed Donna. “I’m so excited about Thanksgiving! It’s probably my favorite holiday because it’s all about being with your family and giving thanks for what you have. I was so upset when I thought I was going to have to stay in London – not seeing my parents and grandparents. It’s such a beautiful time of year in New York – things are just ramping up for Christmas season. I hate missing all our family traditions because I’m over here.”

Benedict stopped punching in the floor man’s mobile number and looked up at Donna with a frown as he felt himself bristle at her words.

_What in the hell is she moaning about? She has me and Mum and Dad, Tracy and her family – not to mention her own sister and brother-in-law._

“It’s not like you’re totally alone here, Sweetheart.”

“No, that’s true. At least Carly and Steve are here to celebrate US holidays with me.”

_I hadn’t realized just how much Donna misses being in New York and with her family. I’ve always feared that deep down inside; but to hear it voiced only serves to bring back all my insecurities that she might decide to go back there to live. If Donna accepts my marriage proposal, that’s an issue that will need to be sorted out. I suppose I was deluding myself that I could somehow fill the void, and she wasn’t missing her family and being in the States as much._

Benedict cleared his throat. “Don’t I count for something? I could swear I made quite a lovely Fourth of July barbeque on my roof terrace - complete with sparklers.”

_I’m whining like an ungrateful and selfish idiot! I’ve hurt Benedict’s feelings. That wasn’t my intent. His fourth of July surprise made me feel as if I were back home!_

Donna smiled fondly at the memory of Benedict grilling hamburgers and hot dogs on a small grill up on his roof terrace for her, Carly and Steven. He had gone to a shop in Kensington that carried American groceries in order to obtain mustard, pickle relish, barbeque sauce and a jar of B & M baked beans. What had really floored her were the homemade strawberry shortcakes that he had painstakingly tried to recreate from a recipe he found on a box of Bisquick.

“You count for _everything_!” cried Donna. “Your July fourth surprise barbeque was one of the sweetest things you’ve ever done for me. Everything you did was perfect – from making sure you had the right condiments to baking the dessert, which was delicious as I told you at the time.”

“Erm…I wasn’t fishing for compliments. I was just stating a fact,” retorted Benedict.

“I realize that; but I think I inadvertently hurt your feelings when I was whining about not being in New York. I want to say in front of your mother,” said Donna, turning to Wanda. “That Benedict knew how sad we were about not being at the annual Saint James Family barbeque and fireworks viewing; so he decided to recreate one on his roof terrace. We could not have been more surprised or happier – to think that Benedict cared so much that we were missing out on an important holiday that he went through such trouble to please us. He made sure to serve an all-American menu with all the trimmings!”

“I also took the liberty of spiking the lemonade with a splash of Kentucky bourbon,” added Benedict with a cheeky smile. “I did Dad proud that afternoon,” he said to Wanda with a wink. “Steve was seriously off his face by the time he was on his third.”

Donna did a double take and chortled. “That, Sir, was not a splash by any definition of the word. That was a good two jiggers you added to each glass. I was feeling pretty tipsy after just one glass.”

“It made things more festive, yes?”

“Yes, it did. It alleviated the homesickness we were all feeling. Not only did I love you all the more for it, but Carly and Steve did as well,” Donna said with a huge smile, as she took Benedict’s hand in hers and squeezed it. “I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful, I was talking about established Saint James family traditions that I can’t participate in from here because the people involved are across the ocean.”

“We’ll have to make some new ones of our own then,” said Benedict soothingly. _Just like we did with celebrating July fourth,_ s _o she won’t be longing for New York so much._

“I know what Donna means,” said Wanda. “The old, long-established family traditions are what bind us – it’s our frame of reference. It defines who we are.”

“And no one loves and respects traditions more than I do; but we still have to move forward, Mum,” retorted Benedict. “Nothing can remain exactly the same forever. People unexpectedly leave and enter into our lives all the time. That’s why it’s paramount to start new ones – and to perhaps find a way to tweak the old ones to adapt to unexpected changes.”

“I’m sorry for being glum,” sighed Donna. “You’re right, of course, Benedict. I was just pining away for my family’s old traditions. I guess I’m feeling a little homesick; but that will be alleviated come Saturday!”

Wanda nodded as she sipped her tea. “Why I was just saying to Ben whilst you were in the kitchen that we missed out on one of our little mother/son traditions…”

_For Christ’s sake! Why is Mum going back down that path?_

The bell to the downstairs door rang, announcing the arrival of the floor repairman.

_Thank God. They won’t be able to continue this conversation in front of the repairman._

“Bloody hell, Mum! After what we just discussed, why don’t you just go ahead then and tell her all about our Mothering Day tradition, why don’t you?” Benedict snarled, as he got up to let the man in.

Donna looked at Wanda’s reddened face and stared at Benedict’s retreating back in disbelief.

_Wow! Benedict was awfully snotty to Wanda just now. I’ve never heard him snap at her like that – in front of me anyway. These two have a secret, and I’m willing to bet I know what it is._

Donna and Wanda’s eyes met briefly. Wanda could tell that Donna was dying to hear about it.

_Oh, I’d better not say a word for fear of possibly starting trouble. That’s probably best left for Benedict to tell her about later on._

“As you were saying, Wanda,” prodded Donna gently.

 

********************************************************

 

Benedict pressed the button on the intercom speaker. “Yes?” he said impatiently.

_“I come bearing gifts along with a gentleman who’s quite anxious to replace your floor tiles,”_ boomed Timothy’s voice through the speaker.

Benedict paused with his finger on the button to unlock the door when he overheard a snippet of Donna and his mother’s conversation:

“You were starting to tell me about your and Benedict’s little Mothers Day tradition,” said Donna.

_Donna’s very persistent. I would do exactly the same thing if I wanted an answer that badly. I hope Mum just tells her most of our tradition for now, and I’ll bite the bullet and fill her in on the rest of it once we’re alone. I’m hoping to hell that Donna really does have an open mind about it._

_“Shall I take your lack of response to mean that we’re not going to be allowed to enter the premises or are you going to present us with various options to choose from?”_ Timothy bellowed ** _. “_** _As far as I can see, there are two: you can either let us in or we can take our leave.”_

“Oh, yeah. Sorry, Dad,” responded Benedict as he hit the button to unlock the downstairs door. “Come up straight away.”

 

**********************************************************

 

“As you were saying, Wanda,” prodded Donna gently.

 Wanda held up her hand for Donna to remain quiet. “That sounded like Tim to me.”

 Donna paused in her questioning to listen.

  _“Shall I take your lack of response to mean that we’re not going to be allowed to enter the premises or are you going to present us with various options to choose from? As far as I can see, there are two: you can either let us in or we can take our leave.”_ ** _  
_**

“That’s definitely Tim,” agreed Donna. “I had no idea he was coming over. Did you know, Wanda?”

“It’s part of our surprise,” explained Wanda. “With Ben away filming and you leaving on Saturday, we thought it would be nice to take you out for dinner to celebrate your birthday before you left. I made us a booking at The Stag for half seven.”

“Oh, Wanda, that is so sweet of you and Tim!”

“We both wanted to spend some time with you before your trip.”

“You were starting to tell me about yours and Benedict’s little Mothers Day tradition,” said Donna, glancing back over her should to see that Benedict was nervously pacing in the foyer while waiting to let Timothy and the repairman in.

_No, I wasn’t; but it seems you’re not giving up so easily. She’s so much like Benedict. I can’t even imagine the two of them trying to pry something out of the other one. It would result in a verbal tug-of-war. What’s taking Tim and that blasted repairman so long to come up.  
_

“I love hearing about the differences in our cultures – especially how holidays are celebrated,” continued Donna, taking a bite of her Chelsea bun. “Though I’m sure it’s not that much different from what my siblings and I do with our mom.”

_Oh, you’d be surprised. Well, when in doubt, go with the partial truth_.

“Tracy and the girls spend the Saturday prior with me. The four of us go on a shopping spree and have a nice, relaxing lunch out. They pick a new restaurant every year for us to try. Then we end the day with getting a massage, followed by a manicure and pedicure. After which Derek and Tim take us all out for dinner, followed by a show. Then Tracy and her family spend Sunday with Derek’s mum, and I have Ben all to myself on Sunday.”

“Wow, that sounds like a full day and very similar to what we do with my mom,” laughed Donna.

“It is a very full day,” giggled Wanda. “I’m so knackered by the end that I need to have a lie in until at least ten on Sunday. Then Ben shows up with a huge bouquet of the most beautiful flowers and cooks me a lovely brunch.”

“That’s very sweet of Benedict to make you brunch, and what’s even better is that he’s actually a good cook!”

“Oh, yes!” exclaimed Wanda. “When Ben was a small, he and Tim would cook it together and serve it to me in bed, which is such a treat. It’s usually a full English. Once Ben was older and comfortable with his way around the kitchen, he took over all the cooking himself.”

“How do you spend the rest of the day?”

“After brunch, Ben and I always take in an art gallery or one of the museums; followed by taking tea together at the Savoy - just the two of us,” smiled Wanda serenely as she helped herself to another biscotti. “It’s just such a lovely way for a mother and son to spend a relaxing day having a proper catch up, don’t you agree?”

_I was right about the Savoy._

Donna nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, it sounds like a very nice tradition.”

_Then if that was all there was to it, then why was Benedict acting so strange? He looked as if he were in a panic and about to have a meltdown. I think there’s more to it than you’re telling me, Wanda. I’ll ask Benedict to tell me later,_ thought Donna.

 

 

Benedict Cumberbatch and Donna Saint James stood in the kitchen of his flat after returning from dinner at The Stag with Wanda and Timothy. They were intently studying the section of floor where the replacement tiles had been laid earlier.

“What do you think?” Benedict asked Donna, pointing to two tiles in particular. “I’m hard pressed to find the exact ones. I think it’s these two, nearest the oven, yes?”

Donna indicated the spot with the toe of her shoe. “Close, but it’s these two.”

“I think they’re a perfect match.”

“Definitely, and Michael did an expert job laying them.”

“I still wish you had let me settle the bill.”

“Nope. I cracked them, and I should have paid for them. Now, let’s not mention it again and move on. As you always say, let the past remain in the past.

_Yes, I do say that quite a lot – twice today as a matter of fact. Once at the tea table and once over dinner when Mum was chattering about the time she and Dad came to the Stag and met my date who made the infamous chicken sushi that landed Dad in the A and E._

“I say an awful lot of rubbish, don’t I? It’s quite terrifying when I think about it sometimes,” mused Benedict opening one of his cabinets to inspect the contents.

Donna giggled. “Then don’t think about it. I’ll tell you when you start spouting nonsense.”

“And I appreciate it. Hmmm…I don’t recall this bag of …oh, are these the chocolate balls with the liquid caramel centers yes?”

“Yep. You’re becoming very adept at identifying chocolate on sight.”

“I’m a credit to my mother, who’s quite talented at it. You were at Borough Market then.”

“Correct, Sherlock. I was at Borough Market, and the stand owner was passing out samples. Are you practicing for deduction scenes?”

“It never hurts to do some research. Are you feeling peckish?”

“Not after that huge cheeseburger, fries and sticky toffee pudding. I’m stuffed.”

“Fancy a coffee or some tea?”

“No, thanks. I just had two cups of tea with my dessert.”

Benedict opened the cupboard where he kept his tea and liquor. “How about joining me for a tipple then? I just found a bottle of sambuca in here recently that I never opened.”

“That cabinet certainly has proven to be a treasure trove of surprises,” observed Donna with a slight smirk. “Lord knows, you may find another _debauched treat_ or two if you look hard enough.”

_Shit! I just opened up that topic of conversation again. Fuck me._

“I think I’ll pass on the sambuca, Ben.”

“Come on, you have to have a tipple with me. Can I tempt you with some water then? I know you must have room for a small glass of water.”

Donna laughed. “Always.”

“That’s my girl,” teased Benedict, filling a glass for her with cold water, followed by one for himself.

“I thought you were having sambuca.”

“I don’t like to drink alone in the flat.”

“Um…in case you haven’t noticed, you’re not alone. I’m here.”

“I don’t like to make it a habit is all. I’m fine with the water.”

“Suit yourself,” said Donna as she headed into the living room and sat on the couch. “That was really nice of your parents to take me out for my birthday. The Stag makes great cheeseburgers.”

“That they do,” he agreed, plopping down beside her. “Did you like their gift?”

“I loved it, and I thought your gift of a voucher for afternoon tea at the Savoy was a very inspired idea.”

“I was going to wait to give it to you until Friday night, but being we were celebrating your birthday tonight…” Benedict let his voice trail off.

“Your parents talk about the Savoy all the time, and I’ve always wanted to go there; but could never find the time.”

“It’s a Cumberbatch Family tradition to take tea at the Savoy on one’s birthday.”

“I’d like to hear more about that other Cumberbatch Family tradition that you’re mother kept alluding to.”

Benedict put down his water and rubbed his thigh. Donna looked down at his leg.

“Am I making you nervous?”

“Of course not,” guffawed Benedict nervously. “I’m…erm…I’m not quite sure which tradition you’re referring to. We’ve got quite a few in my family.”

“The debauched one that you weren’t very keen to tell me about.”

“Fuck.”

“Down, boy. Later.”

“Believe me, sex is that _farthest_ thing from my mind right now.”

“There’s an elephant in the room, Benedict.”

“No shit.”

“Do you want to tell me about it?”

“The elephant…well…erm…not really. To be honest, Donna, I find this is something I’m not entirely comfortable discussing with you…anything else I’m game as you bloody well know.”

“Why the hell not? I’m not stupid you know.”

“Oh, I figured that out a long time ago.”

“I’m very observant, too.”

“I’m only too painfully aware of that.”

“I don’t understand your reluctance to talk about it. You’ve confided so many personal and intimate things to me since we’ve grown closer. Why is the subject of pot suddenly taboo?”

“This is going to sound utterly crackers, but here goes.” Benedict took a deep breath and buried his face in his hands. “I didn’t want to discuss it, because part of me is absolutely terrified that you might break up with me,” he blurted out. “There. And how idiotic and pathetic did that sound? It’s out in the open now, just as you wanted it to be. Happy?”

“You honestly thought I’d break up with you over smoking a little pot? Not a chance.”

Benedict sighed deeply with relief. “A small part of me really did think that you might consider it.”

“Jeez Louise, you’ve cast me in the role of judge, jury and executioner – before I even heard all the details,” scoffed Donna. “Do you find me to be _that_ narrow minded, Benedict?”

“Given your track record, I thought for sure it would be met with disapproval…and worse…”

“Crap! You really _do_ think I’m narrow minded!”

Benedict spread his hands in a helpless gesture and nodded at her.

“I’m afraid so; but to be fair, I can be guilty of having a closed mind at times as well.” _  
_

_I need to change his perception of me. Hmm…if this had been back when I was much younger, I would have broken up with him. I’m a different person now. I’ve become more tolerant and understanding of certain issues._

“How about you give me some credit here?”

“You really want to know about it then?”

“Yeah. Most of all I want to hear what it’s like. Having had no experience other than smelling it, I’m curious.”

 Benedict leaned back and studied her face. “You’re not kidding me, are you?”

“Nope. Now, I’m the one who feels like a naïve idiot having said that.”

“You may be naïve about some things; but you’re definitely not an idiot. Alright then. I’ll satisfy your curiosity, then you can satisfy mine,” said Benedict, getting to his feet.

“Thank you for not laughing at me.”

“I would never laugh at you for showing an interest in something you have little knowledge of.”

“So, just how did the pot get into your kitchen? That was quite a creative story about the tea. One day you’ll make a great storyteller weaving bedtime yarns for your kids.”

Benedict sighed and chuckled. “I had a feeling deep down inside that you didn’t believe me. When Olivia and I were together, we were being cheeky one night after downing a couple of bottles of wine and decided to store a bit of our leftover grass in an empty tin labeled lemongrass because it sounded so clever to us at the time. Then we forgot about it, which is the truth. When we had our final split, Liv must have tossed it in the box with my shit when I moved out of our flat. One of two things must have happened. Either I shoved it in the cupboard without bothering to read the label or one of my mates unpacked it without realizing what it actually was. That’s all there was to it.”

“That makes perfect sense, I don’t know why you just didn’t tell me in the first place, Ben.”

“I told you why, because I allowed my insecurities to best me.”

“You never have to feel insecure when it comes to my love and devotion to you, Ben Honey. I’m not going anywhere.”

_Oh, but if you only knew about the Plan, you’d throw me out of here so fast I wouldn’t know what was happening until I was outside on the front steps._

Benedict nodded understandingly and walked over to the window. He gazed out at the lights of the London skyline. “I’ve already mentioned that I smoked my first spliff whilst I was in my last year at Harrow. I won’t lie to you – I enjoyed it. I had this very lovely feeling of euphoria…like I was floating at times. I would find myself having a giggle over absolutely nothing at all or the most mundane and inane things would suddenly be hysterically funny. My sensations seemed to be heightened – enhanced, if you will. On the negative side, I would have short term memory loss where I wouldn’t be able to finish a sentence because I couldn’t recall what in the fuck I had just been saying. I also found I had trouble concentrating. Those things I didn’t enjoy about it, which curtailed my use.”

“Obviously your parents found out from what you had told me.”

“Yeah. There was a lot of pressure on me to achieve an Oxbridge level of brilliance at A-levels. But then adolescence came late, as you also know; and I discovered girls, pot and all sorts of other things, so I got a bit lazy. Unfortunately, that stagnated my growth a bit as far as being academic. My grades fell, which caused Mum and Dad to intervene. They weren’t wrong. I saw what it was doing to me, and even though it was quite the pleasurable experience – sometimes it wasn’t. If I were in a bad mood, for example, it would only serve to intensify those negative feelings. Then there was the memory thing that bothered me. I decided for myself that I had had my fun and set myself back on track.”

“You obviously turned things around because you got into Manchester, which is a decent school.”

“How would you know that?”

“My mom told me. She said Manchester is an excellent school.”

“Ah, yes. Antonia’s investigators, bless them wherever they might be. Yeah. There was a bit of partying whilst I was at Manchester – mostly drinking though. I guess it came back when I was doing my dissertation and everything for my degree, so it is there somewhere.”

“Do you still indulge yourself?”

Benedict shook his head. “Not in a long while. Why I can’t even remember the last time I fancied having a smoke !”

“I’m sure Wanda can tell us,” snickered Donna.

“Yeah. I’m sure she can, too,” snorted Benedict.

“Which brings us to the Mothers Day tradition that I’ve been dying to hear about.”

“Yes, yes. Mum’s and my little tradition,” chuckled Benedict. “Once I was away at Manchester, I still indulged myself every now and then. Then one Mothering Day weekend I came home and forgot that I had a spliff stashed in my jeans pocket. Mum was doing the laundry and discovered it. Of course, she confronted me with it; and Dad just happened to come home and found us in the middle of a row. Anyway, Mum covered for me. She said I had brought it home for her for Mothering Day. Dad said that was preposterous, but she insisted that I meant no harm by it and finally talked Dad around. We all wound up sharing it in the flat that afternoon with a bottle of wine.”

“My God! You’ve got to be kidding me. That never, _ever_ would have happened in my parents’ house,” laughed Donna.

“And if it had?” inquired Benedict with a raised eyebrow.

“It wouldn’t have,” insisted Donna. “My parents were very strict with us. I remember my Uncle Sal came over to educate the three of us about the perils of drugs.”

“Is Uncle Sal one of your mother’s brothers?”

“Yep. He’s a police detective, who works with the narcotics squad.”

“I don’t find that strange at all since meeting your parents. I could definitely see them being proactive, as they bloody well should have been. Hell, my parents were also to a certain degree.”

“Let me just say that he put the fear of God in us.”

“You’re a credit to your Uncle Sal then; however, you still haven’t answered my hypothetical question – what if one of you had been caught with a spliff?”

“If we were underage, a privilege would have been taken away, following one of the Neil and Toni Shows’ infamous lectures. I remember one night Kenny came home well after his curfew, and they took the keys to his car for a month – not that one drives very often when living in Manhattan. I can guarantee you that they never, _ever_ , would have condoned or tolerated it.”

“Well, in my case, it’s rather difficult for a parent to try and enforce a rule when they are guilty of breaking it themselves.”

“So I’ve gathered.”

“My parents were always rather Bohemian,” smirked Benedict.

“Your parents sound as if they were fairly lenient with you when you were growing up.”

Benedict ran his hand through his hair as he momentarily grimaced. “They were and they weren’t. Dad was always the tougher out of the two of them. I definitely had my set boundaries whilst I was living at home; and there were consequences if I crossed those boundaries. However, once I moved out they realized that my actions were solely my own responsibility. They had to trust that I would use my common sense to differentiate between right and wrong, which I feel I did the majority of the time.”

“As I got older, I finally started to realize that things such as alcohol, cigarettes and pot were gray areas. I remember in school the nuns drummed it into our heads that they were evil. Sometimes I’m shocked at just how narrow-minded I was.”

“That’s parochial school upbringing for you. If you touch a fag or a drink, you’ll go straight to hell.”

“And they didn’t in your private - I mean public - schools?”

“Yeah, of course they made an attempt; but it obviously did precious little good as not only did I both smoke and drink, but most of my mates did as well.”

“I saw that my parents drank responsibly, and decided that it was okay to drink I moderation. Smoking was out of the question for me – not only because it’s bad for you; but due to my allergy. Pot - I was never interested in trying to begin with.”

“It was different for me. You can legally consume beer, wine or cider in public when you’re sixteen here, provided you’re accompanied by your family and having a meal. My parents drank and smoked around me, as did the majority of their friends and acquaintances. I never saw anything wrong with it because they never abused any of it. When I played Stone in _City of Angels_ , I smoked a lot and drank whiskey to make my voice gravelly when I was eighteen. My parents never said a word – we actually had a giggle about it.”

“Are you trying to tell me that you got all your vices from them?”

Benedict smiled and nodded. “Oh! Without a doubt. They both smoked ever since I can remember, so I think it was only natural that I would follow in their footsteps. Mum was more of a social smoker. She was very on again/off again. However, Dad was a regular smoker; but he stopped when he developed a severe bout of bronchitis that landed him in hospital when I was ten or eleven. I remembered how frightened I was at the time.”

“I guessed it scared Tim as well; because I’ve never seen him – either of them for that matter – smoke in my presence.”

“The doctor convinced him to stop at the time, and Mum decided to join him. Every now and then they’ll still treat themselves to a fag out on the balcony or roof terrace. As you can see from my own struggle, it’s a tough addiction to overcome.”

“I think you’re doing great with it.”

“Thank you and I do appreciate your continued support in helping me stay quit.”

“So, your parents also smoked pot?”

“Yeah. Back in their younger days – rarely though from what they told me. It was never a habit…it was just a special treat to be enjoyed with some of their actor friends. The only time Dad really objected to my smoking it was when it affected my grades, as I’ve just said. I don’t think he’s had a spliff in years though. He kind of left it to Mum and me to have what became known as our little Mothering Day tradition. We’d get together one afternoon after Mothering Day in my flat and have ourselves a spliff with a good bottle of wine and some nibbles. We’d talk and talk and such a lovely time together.”

“Then what happened?”

“Then after the high wore off, Mum would go home; and I’d go have a lie down.”

Donna began to laugh. “I’m not making fun of it, but that is the strangest Mothers Day tradition I’ve ever heard in my life. Ours our so mundane compared to that. We just take my mom out to see a play and to dinner.”

“You’re alright with it then?”

“Completely. What you do is your business, Benedict. However, the only thing I will ever ask of you is not to keep anything like that in any house we should happen to reside in together.”

“Fair enough, but I’d like to assure you that my weed smoking days are behind me. It’s the damned motherfucking tobacco that tempts me every day of my life. I find I’m just not interested in weed any longer. However, should you ever fancy trying it just once, I’d prefer you do it with me.”

“Thank you for the offer. I’ll keep in it mind in case my curiosity ever gets the best of me. I also glad that we could discuss this like two adults.”

_Hmmm…maybe I should tell him about the Plan. He’s told me about this, and I understood._

Benedict returned to the couch and plopped down beside her. He massaged his temples briefly and let out a deep sigh. He put an arm around her shoulder and kissed her deeply.

“I feel sooooo much better having gotten that out of the way. What a treat it was to be able to discuss this with you properly and not be dressed down or found wanting.”

_Tell him, Donna. Now’s the time to come clean! He’s just made a confession, now it’s your turn. Clear the air and have no secrets between you. It will be for the better in the end – regardless of what Wanda and Timothy think._

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I've been wanting to show some character development for Donna for awhile now. I decided it was time to address her judgmental side and have her grow some. After reading an article where Benedict talked about smoking pot in the past, I thought that I would just run with it. 
> 
> 2\. All the pot references are based solely on internet research.
> 
> 3\. The Mothering Day tradition actually did come from a story I had heard about a long-ago colleague whose daughter had supposedly given her a spliff to smoke together every Mother's Day. 
> 
> 4\. The Liberty is a beautiful high-end department store in London, well worth seeing for the architecture alone.
> 
> 5\. The Stag is rightfully famous for their delicious cheeseburgers and chips. 
> 
> 6\. Originally, Donna's confession was in this chapter; but it got too long - yes, even for me - so I had to split it into two chapters.
> 
> 7\. Happy Mothering Day to all my lovely readers in the UK who celebrate! It was purely coincidental that this chapter happened to be posted today. It was written two months ago.


	121. Chapter 121

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Donna tries to come clean about The Plan one last time. Benedict heads to New York. Toni and Neil receive a surprise phone call. 
> 
> Note: I’ll be using ********** to indicate things happening at the same time.

 

Donna Saint James bit her lower lip and smiled nervously at Benedict Cumberbatch as she patted his thigh.

“I’m glad you feel so comfortable telling me anything, Benedict.  I want to assure you that I’ll always respect and keep your confidences.”

“Thank you.  It means a lot to me to hear you say that, Love.  I also want you to know that I will forever keep yours close to the vest as well.”

“You know, Ben, while we’re on the topic of confession, there’s something that…”

“There’s something else I’ve been keeping inside that I want to tell you about.”

_Something else?  What in the heck else does he want to reveal to me and do I want to know?_

“Can I finish what I was going to say?”

“This will only take a minute, and it’s been praying on my mind.”

“Go ahead.”

“You know I also went to a boarding school prior to Harrow - Brambletye School in West Sussex,” began Benedict rubbing the back of his neck.  “And …well…there was a bit of sexual experimentation…”

Donna raised her eyebrows at him.  _Holy cow!  This man is just full of surprises today._

“…it was more about learning about each others bodies.”

“I think that’s pretty normal at the onset of puberty.  Our bodies begin to change, and we get curious as to how they respond to sexual stimuli.”

Benedict nodded in agreement.  “Exactly. While there was experimentation, it had never occurred to me as, 'Oh, this is that'. It was just boys and their penises, the same way with girls and vaginas and boobs. It wasn't out of desire."

“I do understand, believe me.  You read things and hear things and become anxious to try it out for yourself to see what it’s all about.  I remember sneaking what at the time I deemed risqué books – into my bedroom to read at night when I was alone.  I learned to masturbate while reading the sexy parts over and over.  Now, that was a true guilty pleasure in every sense of the word.”

“Well, this was a bit more than reading sexy passages in a book and wanking off alone in my bed out of curiosity and subsequently desire.  This was more of participating in competitions and doing a bit of touching and feeling out of sheer curiosity to see how one’s body would react.  Wanking off out of desire and for the pleasure of it came later whilst I was at Harrow and discovered the allure of the fairer sex.  Privacy was at a premium there, so my guilty pleasure – as you so aptly put it – took place in the shower or under the covers in my bed whenever my roommate wasn’t around.”

“We all had our own rooms, so all I had to do was lock the door for privacy.  I loved when they’d all go out, and I’d be alone to take my time.  That was heavenly – sometimes I’d do it in the bathtub.”

“Ah, hence your fondness for hand-held shower heads,” snorted Benedict.

“Damn right!  Those things can give you such an intense climax!”

“One learnt to be as speedy as possible at Harrow,” he giggled.  “Now, after all that conditioning, I still find it difficult to break myself of that nasty little habit and try to last as long as possible.”

“I think you do a commendable job of lasting,” smiled Donna. 

“You have to take most of the credit for that, Love. That little trick of bringing me to the brink of climax as many times as I can tolerate, yields the most intense and satisfying orgasms, so it behooves me to try and hold back for as long as I can.”  Benedict yawned and stretched.  “Well then, I think we’ve had enough confessions for one night, don’t you?”

_Yeah, I think I have.  I’ll leave it for another time.  He looks tired and probably wants to go to sleep.  Telling him about the Plan is something that would be best told when we’re both refreshed from a good night’s sleep.  Oh, Donna, who in the hell are you kidding?  There will never be a good time to tell him._

“Definitely.  I’m exhausted. Let’s get some sleep.” 

Donna got up only to have Benedict grab her wrist and pull her back down. 

“Fuck!  Where are my manners?  You wanted to tell me something, and I was being cheeky and cut you off.  Please forgive me, Darling, and finish what you were going to say.”

_Oh, oh.  The time has come, Donna.  Tell him and get it over with.  I’ll just have him call a cab, and he can pack up my things and send them over while I’m in New York.  It’s a good thing I never brought over too many things._

Donna took a deep breath and pulled away from Benedict as he tried to hold her close to him.

“Okay.  Here goes.  Before we met, I was disgusted with all the jerks I kept meeting here and one night I answered one of the personal ad in Craigs List.”

Benedict suddenly regarded her with great interest.

“Didn’t you tell me something about this before?”

“Yes.  The first time I had Sunday lunch at your parents.”

“We were up on the roof terrace having a chat, and you started to tell me.”

“And now I want to finish it.”

Benedict regarded her with a bewildered expression.  “I told you then that I didn’t give a toss as to what you did in the past, nor should I.  Your secrets are yours to keep, should you choose to.  Just because I told you a lot of my nasty little secrets doesn’t mean you’re required to tell me yours. My stance hasn’t changed.”

“Benedict!  Please be quiet!  You just shared some very personal and private information with me, and now, it’s my turn to share with you.”

“But you just did share something very personal with me, Donna.”

“Benedict, please let me finish what I was going to say.  This has been eating at me.”

He sat back and put his feet up on the coffee table.  “As you were then.”

Donna moistened her lips and got to her feet.  She rubbed her hands together as she began to pace back and forth in front of the couch.

_I feel like I want to throw up.  I'm so freaking nervous.  He's going to freak out on me.  Wanda and Tim's worst nightmare is about to come true.  I hate to have to bring them down with me; but I see no other way.  Okay.  It's time to spill the proverbial beans._

Donna stole one last glance at Benedict and saw that he was sitting there with an expectant look on his handsome face.

_This is one time when I wouldn't have minded his getting distracted by a moth or the sound of those randy little foxes...just where in the hell are those animals when I need them? Oh, who am I kidding?  This is something I have to do._

"Donna, you look as if you want to bolt.  Now, whatever it is couldn't be _that_ bad...just tell me already. I promise I won't bite," he said encouragingly.

_That's what you think.  Oh, well, time to throw myself to the lion._

“It was a very unique ad, which is what got my attention in the first place; so I answered it and the person who placed it responded.”

“Well, I would have hoped so.  So, did you wind up dating this person?”

“No…yes…it’s not…well,it didn’t lead to a date directly…it actually took a different route than the norm.  You see, it’s complicated.  Very, very complicated.  I’m trying to think of the most succinct way to put this.”

Benedict rolled his eyes.  “And you have the bollocks to say _I_ waffle?”

“Okay.  You know the person who placed the ad,” Donna blurted out, wringing her hands.

Benedict’s ice blue eyes bore into her and he suddenly sat up straight, his complete and undivided attention focused on her.

_What fresh hell is this? I know the person?  Who on earth?  
_

“I know this person?” Benedict repeated, brow knitted in a frown.

Donna nodded. “Yes.  Gosh, Ben, I don’t know where to begin…or how to explain it so it doesn’t sound so wacky.”

_Who in the devil could it have been? Just about all of my mates are happily married or in stable relationships._

“The last thing I want is for you to jump to conclusions, Ben Honey.  I want you to promise me that you’ll hear me out before passing judgement.  Okay?”

Donna could see the sudden light of realization shining in her lover's eyes.  He looked at her as if he could see right through her.

_Jimmy Rhodes.  It was him.  Of course!  The wanker’s still single and was actively looking for someone before he settled on Hattie.  I could see him doing something like that, and he was ashamed to tell me for fear that I’d take the piss – oh, and I would have with great relish.  I would have delighted in teasing the shit out of him. He probably swore Donna to secrecy, hence the story of how they met at the Steinway Store. I don’t see why Donna’s making such a fuss over it.  I know they dated, and I won her affections; so why bring it up now?  
_

“I’ve heard all I need to know, Donna,” laughed Benedict. “Come on – off to bed with you.  I’m knackered.”

“No!” cried Donna. “I haven’t even scratched the surface.  There is so much to tell you, and I’m so ashamed that I went along with it…I don’t want you to get the wrong idea about me.  Please let me finish explaining!”

Benedict raised a hand to silence her.  “Let me ask you this:  Has replying to this ad resulted in your acquiring a communicable disease – such as an STD?”

“Of course not!  We’ve both been tested and came up clean. Besides you’re the only man I’ve been intimate with since I came to London.”

“Has replying to this ad resulted in your cheating on me?”

“No!  Of course not!  I’ve been completely faithful to you!”

“Then I don’t really care to know the gory details."

"Oh, I think you really need to hear them, Benedict."

"You answered a personal ad put in by someone I know, and things didn’t work out. So what of it?”

_Oh, there’s a big ‘so what’ if you’d just shut the hell up and let me finish._

"Well, this person is very dear to you and..."

Benedict waved a dismissive hand at her.  “I worked it out and know who it is, and I’m not the least bit upset by it.  I totes understand why you’re feeling guilty and why he wouldn’t want me to know.  I promise never to mention it to him so he can continue to save face.”

_'He'?  No, Benedict, you haven’t a clue! Crap!  He must think it was Jimmy!_

“You need to let me finish, Benedict. Please – for both of our sakes,” Donna pleaded.

“Enough!” bellowed Benedict, smacking his hand on the arm of the couch.  “Why put yourself through this angst?  It’s more than obvious that you don’t really fancy making this confession, but you feel it’s obligated being I made a couple of confessions earlier.”

“Yes, part of that is true, but…”

“We’re not doing tit for tat here, Sweetheart.  We’re just talking and clearing the air about some things, which is fine and healthy for a relationship.”

_If you knew, our relationship would be poisoned._

“You answered a motherfucking personal ad, so what?  People do things like that all the time.  I’ve even considered doing it at one time or another, but I never did get around to it. Then fate brought us together and here we are.”

_I hope you remember that point once I’ve told you.  Fate, not your mother, brought us together. She had absolutely nothing to do with it. I just thought Adam was you and conspired with your mother to bump into the man who I thought was you._

“It’s certainly nothing to be ashamed of, Love; and just for the record it doesn’t matter that I know the person.”

_Oh, it would matter an awful lot if you knew it was your mother who placed the ad._

"Hmmm...I'm going to have to disagree with you on that point.  You will care an awful lot."

_For fucks sake!  She needs to stop this!  The poor darling is obviously in agony over this ridiculous confession of hers._

“We all have our secrets, Donna; and we’re entitled to them.  You’re making a big fuss out of nothing.”

“No, I’m really _not_ , Benedict.  Now, can you _please_ just keep quiet for a minute and let me finish.”

“For fucks sake, Sweetheart!”  Benedict abruptly leapt to his feet and shouted in sheer frustration. “The only two things I could possible give two shits about are:  if you have an STD or if you cheated on me – neither of which apply here.  So, for the last motherfucking time, let’s leave the past where it belongs, shall we?  What’s happened in our collective pasts can’t be changed, so please, _please_ just let this crap with the personal ad rest in peace because in the grand scheme of things, it’s not important to me!”

_That’s what you think._

“But, Benedict…”

“ _Please_ stop trying to convince me of something I don’t need to be convinced of!  I don’t want to hear another word from you unless it has to do with our future together!” exclaimed Benedict gruffly. “Now, I have to take a wicked wee; so if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go relieve myself.  I’ll be in the bedroom afterwards.”

Donna Saint James watched in bewilderment as Benedict Cumberbatch turned on his heel, stomped out of the room, down the hall and into the bathroom. The sound of the door being slammed shut behind him echoed in the sparsely furnished apartment.  A feeling of vast relief swept over Donna that the ugly scene she had been anticipating with dread had been avoided once again.  She suddenly felt drain and collapsed onto the couch. 

_Okay.  I tried to tell you several times now, and you just won’t listen.  So be it. Maybe I should take it as a sign that he’s not meant to find out.  You want me to have my secrets, Ben Honey; and I shall keep this one.  The Plan will remain my secret, and I won't have to throw Wanda and Tim under the bus.  
_

 

 

**One week later:**

 

Benedict Cumberbatch settled into his window seat on British Airways Flight 117 from London Heathrow to New York JFK.  His companion, Dr. Steven Cipriano, once again stuffed their carry-ons and laptop cases into the overhead compartment.

“Ben, are you absolutely sure you have everything you need before I close this for the third and, hopefully, final time?”

Benedict took a quick inventory of the items he had removed from his carry-on.  “I’ve got my book, Walkman, earbuds…tissues…nicotine gum…mints…hand wipes. Yep. I’m all set.”

Steven shut the compartment with a grateful sigh and sat in his aisle bulkhead seat beside Benedict.  Their row only contained two seats as they were positioned near the central galley and restrooms of the huge Boeing 777. 

“Your suggestion to choose these seats was genius,” declared Benedict, as he tore open a packet containing a disinfectant wipe. 

Steven watched with amusement as Benedict methodically cleaned off their arm rests along with the tray tables and entertainment systems that were inside of them. 

“There!  Our immediate environs are now germ-free.  Feel free to touch with reckless abandon,” announced Benedict, crumpling the used wipe and putting it back inside the packet.  “These things are utterly brilliant.”

“Christ, this is just like traveling with Carly!” exclaimed Steven.  “My wife is a firm believer in wiping down every surface in sight with those damn things. Toni trained her well.”

“Donna got me hooked on them,” explained Benedict.  “You’re a doctor, so shouldn’t you be advocating my use of them in the war against germs yes?”

Steven sighed.  “To be honest, I’m more of an advocate of just washing your hands thoroughly with soap and water before eating and making it a point not to touch your face.  Though in a pinch, I will admit that those little bottles of hand sanitizer can come in handy.”

“Shit. I left mine inside my carry-on.  I hope I don’t get sick. I always worry about that whenever I fly.”

“I think you’ll manage not to pick up anything between here and New York,” laughed Steven. “I’ve flown countless times and have never caught anything yet.”

Benedict stretched his legs out and sighed contentedly, as he adjusted the pillow behind his head.  “I love the extra legroom and that I won’t have to climb over anyone whenever I fancy having a wander around the plane.”

“Carly and I always pick these seats if they’re available for a little privacy, which isn’t the case in reality because people tend to congregate near the lavatories and in the galley area.”

“People chatting doesn’t bother me at all,” Benedict assured him.  “Once I’m asleep or immersed in my book and some good music, nothing will disturb me.”

“You’re probably better off not sleeping.  We’ll be getting in around eleven thirty; so if you can manage to stay up the rest of the day, it will ease the jet lag somewhat.”

“Whose idea was it to leave this fucking early?” yawned Benedict.

“Mine,” smiled Steven.  “This way we’ll have plenty of time to drop off our luggage and head over to the Jewelry Exchange.”

“I got some rather weird looks wearing this thru airport security,” whispered Benedict, indicating his grandmother’s ring that he wore on his pinky. “My gran had large hands for a woman.”

“It is a bit ostentatious even for you,” teased Steven. “By the way, the woman directly across the aisle from us is either fascinated by it or she’s trying to flirt with you in the worst way. I’m thinking it might be those irresistible hetero-chromatic eyes of yours.”

“Sod off. I was fucking afraid to stash the bloody thing in any of my luggage for fear it would be stolen or I’d be taken for a diamond smuggler and detained at Heathrow.  I have this irrational fear of losing it somehow.”

“It’s not irrational at all, Ben.  I’d be nervous having something that expensive in my possession.”

Benedict turned the ring so only the shank was visible on his finger.  “I should’ve done this before Adam dropped me off at Heathrow; but I was afraid of bumping and damaging it even though I know diamonds are one of the hardest substances on earth.”

“True.  I read they are practically indestructible.”

“Christ on a crutch! I just had this vision of Donna cracking the fucking thing accidentally.  You’ve seen how…erm…accident prone she is, bless her.”

Steven covered his mouth in order to stifle the laugh that bubbled up inside him.  “Oh, man, knowing Donna, I could actually see that happening!  If I were you, I’d take no chances and insure her ring.”  He lifted Benedict’s hand and studied the sparkling diamond.  “That is some gorgeous diamond.”

“Isn’t it just?  A true embarrassment of riches. I’m so fucking lucky that my gran left it to me. Otherwise, I'd only be able to afford to give Donna a much smaller diamond.” 

“To be honest, Ben, I think Donna would be thrilled with whatever size diamond you gave her.  The proposal is what counts, and from what I gather she’s been anxiously waiting for you to pop the question.”

Benedict raised his eyebrows.  “Really?  I’ve been a bit concerned that I may be rushing things along now.”

“No.  Your lady is eagerly anticipating getting engaged - that’s what Carly told me, and she's a very reliable source when it comes to her twin.  Donna seems convinced that you’re going to propose on Christmas Day.”

“Well, Donna’s going to be very surprised indeed, isn't she?" chortled Benedict. 

"Definitely."

"Do you think she’ll fancy the ring?”

“Donna will hyperventilate when she sees it.  She’ll think she’s died and gone to Tiffany heaven.”

“Let’s hope so,” fretted Benedict. “I’m concerned that she may think it too much…you know …it _is_ a rather flashy piece of bling. Perhaps she’d prefer something more simple and understated.”

Steven slapped his thigh and laughed.  “You need to stop second guessing yourself, Ben. Let me assure you that when it comes to the Saint James women and their jewelry, there is no such thing as too big or too flashy. Trust me, Donna will love it.”

“Hmmm…that’s exactly what my dad said,” mused Benedict.

_I hope to God, Dad and Steve are right about Donna being over the moon when I present her with it._

“Damn!  I was so busy taking your bag in and out of the overhead that forgot to take my own book out of my carry-on,” groused Steven. “That’s the only drawback to not having seats in front of us. Normally I would have stored my book underneath the seat in front of me until I was ready to do some reading.”

“Carly must hate not having the extra room,” snickered Benedict.

Steven chuckled. “I tell her to look upon it as Boeing’s way of deterring her from being tempted to bring along unnecessary crap.”

“It’s probably for the best that I don’t have extra storage space, as it would indeed only encourage me to drag along even more extra stuff that I don’t need.”

“I did notice that you rival Donna with the over packing,” Steve laughed. “That’s one heavy carry-on you brought with you. I’m certain I built up some muscle mass just from lifting it up and down.”

“You should see what I’ve got in the checked bag,” declared Benedict with a wink. “Luckily I just made the weight limit with a couple of kilos to spare. I was surprised to see that you had such a large checked bag. I thought you didn’t bother with checking bags.”

“I normally don’t; but today I’m transporting Christmas presents for our families. The beauty of having a home in New York is that the great bulk of my clothes are still there.  I don’t need to pack anything when I fly back and forth, except my laptop and sometimes a small carry-on.”

“I’d be fucking lost without my carry-on,” remarked Benedict. “It’s got all my reading material and an extra set of clothes in case my luggage should get lost or stolen.”

“Mine just has a book and some paperwork.  Its main function is to store goodies from London for Colin.  I’ve got tea, his favorite brand of clotted cream, cookies – all things he can’t find in New York or are too expensive to order online. Then Carly will fill it with things from New York that we can’t find in London for the trip home. I’m like a food courier.”

“I wish I could learn to pack lighter,” lamented Benedict.  “It would make my life a lot easier – not to mention my luggage would last a whole hell of a lot longer.  It’s always breaking because I’m forever trying to stuff more shit inside it.”

“I have to tell you, Ben, traveling light is so stress free!  Once I land, all I do is go straight to immigration, which is normally a breeze if you're a US citizen. Then while everyone else is heading to the baggage carousel for a long wait, I simply bypass them, go through customs and am on my way home in under fifteen minutes. I also like that there’s no suitcase to roll through the airport, which is nice. However, today will be different. Today I will brave the wait at the fucking baggage carousel along with everyone else.”

“I feel bloody awful that those Christmas gifts and I are going to hold you up from making a speedy exit this time,” quipped Benedict.  “My heart truly goes out to you, and I humbly apologize for my role in it.”

“Cut the crap. You don’t feel one little bit of remorse. You’re overjoyed that I’m going to keep you company at the baggage carousel.”

“One of us can keep an eye out for the luggage whilst the other fetches the trolleys.”

“Wouldn’t it be nice one day to fly first or even business class?" mused Steven. "I’ve always been curious as to whether it’s worth the extra money or not.”

“I’ve always fancied having a go in first-class to see what all the fuss is about as well – besides loads more room, a free drinks trolley and hopefully, better food.”

“Well, that’s never going to happen in my life time; so I’ll just have to be content with economy,” laughed Steven.  “It’s not so bad as long as I can sit here.”

“It would be lovely though, wouldn’t it?” said Benedict wistfully.  “And have someone go collect up our luggage and bring it to a limo so we can be whisked away to our destinations. That would be such a treat!”

“Well, maybe one day when you make it big, you’ll allow me to use your entourage and even let me hitch a ride in your limo.”

“What in the fuck was in your coffee this morning?” snorted Benedict. “I don’t foresee anything like that ever happening to me.”

“Hmmm…how about if I disagree with that assessment? I think all you need is a break, and suddenly you’ll find yourself with more fame and fortune than you can handle."

“That’s what my agent keeps telling me; but for the foreseeable future, I’ll be traveling in economy class and schlepping my own luggage around. Perhaps if you land this job, you’ll become a world-renowned surgeon and could easily afford to travel in style.  Then I can get a ride in your limo.”

“Now, that would be nice; but there would be a lot of things that I’d have to consider very carefully before accepting that position.  We’re putting the cart before the horse here - I haven’t even gone through the interview process yet.”

“You never said exactly how we’re getting into the city. Are we taking a cab?”

“We’ll be taking the Air Train. Cheap, efficient and stress-free – though it’s not on a par with the Heathrow Express I’ll admit.  We’ll change at the terminus in Jamaica for the subway.”

“Sounds complicated,” observed Benedict with a frown. “I’ve got a lot of luggage to manage. I normally get a cab outside of arrivals.”

“It’ll be fine,” insisted Steven. “In the end it will be faster than taking a cab because there’s always construction and traffic going into the city on week days.”

“Erm…okay.  I’ll trust your judgement then.  So what did you tell Carly?  Isn’t she going to wonder why you’re popping in to drop off your luggage and going right back out?”

“It won’t be a problem because she won’t be home when I get there, so I can do a quick in and out. Carly and Donna have grand plans for today.  They are having lunch with Sarah at LeBernadin and going shopping. I told Carly I’ve got some shopping of my own to do, so I may still be out when she gets back.  Being Carly most likely assumes it’s for her birthday present, she won’t say a word. What did you tell Donna you were doing for the next few days?”

“That was easy.  I told her I had to do pickups in a studio for Van Gogh today and had final costume fittings and meetings for _Sherlock_ tomorrow and Friday. The only way we can communicate is via Skype; so coupled with the time difference, I haven’t had a lot of time to speak with her.  I already contacted my carrier so I can use my mobile in the US.  I’ll be able to make and receive calls as soon as we land. I just have to remember not to use it to call Donna until after I reveal myself to her Friday morning.”

“You’re very shrewd, Mr. Cumberbatch.  I like that. You may have missed your calling as a spy."

 

 

Much to their surprise, the flight had actually taken off on time. Right before lunch was served, the pilot had announced that he expected them to arrive in New York a little earlier than scheduled.

“I love when we get in early!” said Steven. “It’s a cause for celebration.”

“Ah, here comes the drinks trolley, shall we see what they have to offer other than Chateau Gatwick?” laughed Benedict. 

“What in the hell is Chateau Gatwick?” asked Steven. “I’ve never heard of that brand.”

“Chateau Gatwick is a fictional brand. It comes from one of my favourite lines in _Cabin Pressure_ that we wound up not using last season.   It refers to cheap, boxed wine.”

“Why didn’t they use it?” inquired Steven.  “That’s hilarious.”

“They realized the show was running too long at the taping, so John Finnemore decided to cut it.  However, the audience had responded so well to it that he plans on working the line into the next episode he’s writing, which is going to be a Christmas special for next year.”

“It’s the cheap bottled stuff,” pointed out Steven as the drinks cart stopped at their row.  “I tried a glass the last time I flew, and it was God awful.  I think I’ll pass and stick with water.  It’s better for keeping hydrated anyway.”

“As will I then,” said Benedict.  “I’m going to need a clear head for my meeting with Frank.  Which movie are you watching?”

"The new Star Trek reboot with Chris Pine and Zachary Quinto. I've been enjoying it so far. Have you seen it?"

"Yes.  Donna and I saw it when it opened," replied Benedict.  "I always imagine how much fun it would be to make a film like that one day."

"Who knows what the future holds?" mused Steven.  "Perhaps one day you'll find out."

 

 

Once the flight landed, Benedict and Steven were able to pass thru immigration and retrieve their luggage with a minimal wait.  Both men were also pleased to find that there were short lines at customs due to the time of day.  After clearing customs, Benedict joined Steven near the door to the arrivals waiting room and terminal exits.

“Well, that was fairly painless,” declared Benedict, tucking his passport back inside his messenger bag.  “I had figured on a much longer wait.”

“It all depends on timing.  There aren’t too many flights coming in at this time of day, so the lines aren’t as bad.  Now, shall we head for the second part of our adventure, the Air Train?”

Steven pushed open the door to the main area of the terminal, and led the way towards the Air Train station.  Suddenly, his US cellphone text chime went off indicating he had a message.  He stopped and pulled out his phone to see who had been trying to reach him.

“Wait up, Ben!  I need to check this.” 

Benedict pushed his luggage trolley back to stand beside Steven as he read the message and began to laugh.

“What’s so amusing, Mate?”

“My darling wife is.  This is your lucky day, Ben!  We won’t be taking the Air Train after all. We’re going to ride into Manhattan in style. Carly sent a text saying that Neil has arranged for a car service to pick me up.  The car is actually for both of us, but Carly doesn’t know that. We just need to look for the driver outside.  He’ll be parked at the curb with a sign for Cipriano.”

“Won’t Neil be surprised to find that he’s going to be billed for two passengers rather than the one,” smirked Benedict, as he followed Steven to the terminal exit and outside into the chilly November day. “Not to mention the extra stop in Chelsea.  I’m sure that will make his day.”

“What in the heck are you talking about, Ben?  Why would Neil be surprised to get billed…”  Steven’s eyes darted around until he spied the sign with his last name.  “Over there!  See the black Lincoln Town car to the left?  It’s the third in line.  That’s for us!”

The two men pushed their luggage carts over towards the limo driver, who immediately popped open the trunk upon seeing them.  Steven motioned to Benedict to take a seat in the limo while he dealt with the driver.

“Good Morning!” the bald-headed man greeted Steven. “Dr. Cipriano?”

Steven nodded.  “Yes.”

The driver watched in confusion as Benedict entered the backseat of the car and began to root around inside his carry-on, which he had taken inside the car with him. 

“Is he my passenger?” the driver inquired, indicating Benedict.

“Yeah.”

“And he’s going to 127 East 65th Street?”

“Um…no, I’m going there.”

“I’m not following you. You just said he’s my passenger.”

“We both are, but we’re going to different places.  Didn’t they tell you that there were two stop offs?”

The man shook his head.  “No. The reservation was to pick up one passenger coming in on British Airways Flight 117 by the name of Cipriano outside of Terminal Seven arrivals going to East 65th Street in Manhattan.”

“Well, I’m confused,” declared Steven, scratching his head.  “There must have been a mistake when my father-in-law made the reservation.  There are definitely two of us going to two different addresses.”

“That’s fine by me,” said the driver.  “I’ll just call the dispatcher and let her know of the change.  There will be an extra charge for an additional passenger and stop.”

“I’m sure that won’t be a problem,” Steven assured the man.  “Just ask the dispatcher to put it on my father-in-law’s account.”

 

*******************************************************************************************************************************

 

Benedict climbed into the backseat of the limo as Steven spoke with the driver, who loaded their luggage into the boot.  He took out his mobile and rang his friend, Tertius Bune.

_“Hello?”_

“Cheers Tertius!  I’ve arrived at JFK and wanted to see if my mobile was working properly here.”

_“It seems to be. Did you collect your luggage and pass through customs yet?”_

“Yeah.  It wasn’t too bad this time for a pleasant change.”

_“You lucky bastard. Last time it took me almost two hours. By the way I had an extra key made for you, so you can come and go as you please.”_

“Thanks.  I appreciate that.” ** _  
_**

_“How are you getting here?”_

“Donna’s wanker father arranged for a limo to pick us up – I mean pick Steve up, not me,” replied Benedict.  “He never would have sent a limo to pick me up.  The right bastard would just assume that I walk into Manhattan. Anyway, I digress. Steve is my traveling companion.  I  believe I mentioned he’s also Donna’s brother-in-law.  Well, right now, he’s outside trying to sort  things out with the driver. The poor sod is very confused, as is Steve, which I unfortunately have to take total credit for.  If only I had thought to call before I left home, but you know how easily distracted I get at times.  My fucking mind is always racing in too many different directions.”

_“Bloody hell, how I missed your waffling, Benedict. What exactly are you trying to tell me?”_ **_  
_ **

“Erm…well, the booking was originally for one person and now there are two of us, each going to a different destination.”

_“That shouldn’t present a huge problem.  They’ll just add the extra charges onto his bill.”_

“The wanker has no idea I’m here.”

_“So, not only are you surprising Donna; but her family as well yes?”_

“Yeah.  I really did intend to tell the parents;  but I kept putting it off.  I’m going to ring them once I get to your flat and set a lunch date with them for tomorrow.  Then I’ll properly ask the wanker for Donna’s hand.”

Benedict could hear his friend draw in his breath sharply and let it out in a disgusted huff.

_“Not such brilliant planning on your part if I must say so...”_ **_  
_ **

“And you must.” ** _  
_**

_“I’d be a rubbish friend if I didn’t tell you when you’re wrong. You don’t save shit like this for the last minute, Ben!  This isn’t like a spur of the moment invitation when you ring them up on a whim with no notice to meet at their local for a catch up over a pint on pub quiz night.  You’re going to ask them for permission to marry their daughter for fucks sake!  You need to do that properly, you tit! Your parents would be appalled if they knew you hadn’t the decency to give her parents any notice at all.”_ **_  
_ **

“Well, yeah…yeah…that’s the idea…the plan.  Christ, Tertius!  You’re making it sound as if I’ve committed some unforgivable crime! I did tell her sister’s husband everything. He’s the one I’m traveling with and has been helping me with my plans.” ** _  
_**

_“Blimey! Then he’s done a rubbish job as well, bless him.  I wouldn’t want that bloke helping me coordinate something this paramount!”_ **_  
_ **

“To be fair, Steve’s under the impression that I told the parents already from the way he was just acting.  I’ll sort it out with him as soon as he gets into the bloody limo.” ** _  
_**

_“You apparently haven’t thought this through, have you? What if Donna’s parents made other plans? They may have bought tickets to an event – like theatre tickets - for the night of her birthday.  Those are pricey and non-refundable.”_ **_  
_ **

“I don’t see a problem with that,” scoffed Benedict.  “They can always take someone else with them to fill Donna’s seat.  They’ve loads of family and friends.” ** _  
_**

_“And what if they don’t give you their blessing? You keep telling me how there’s no love lost between the lot of you.”_

“Erm…well…um…no…okay – you’re right! I hadn’t really considered any of that,” groaned Benedict. “That’s just the kind of shit I don’t need!” ** _  
_**

_“And lastly, do you think it’s a good idea to continually refer to your future-father-in-law as a wanker? One day you’re bound to slip up and call him that to his face, which won’t further endear you to him. It gets things off on the wrong foot, don’t you think?”_

 “They’re already on the wrong fucking foot.  Besides, you haven’t met the bastard yet. Wanker is me being kind.  It’s my pet name for him,” chuckled Benedict.

_“To be fair, I haven’t met the man yet, Ben, so I’m not one to judge.  However, I’ve read his reviews, so I feel I’ve got a flavour as to what he’s like; and I really do have the feeling you’re spot on. You’ve always been brilliant when it comes to sizing up people.”_

“And it’s a bloody rotten flavour, I can tell you that much. Trust me, Mate, nothing on earth can prepare you for the real thing. The man is such a dick.”

_“I’m hoping not to come across him until your wedding then.  Anyway, I’ve got to lay in some fresh milk because what I’ve got is spoilt. I also wouldn’t want you to have to drink your tea black and be all stropy.”_ **_  
_ **

“That’s what I love about you, Tertius. You’re such a right thoughtful chap.”

_“Not thoughtful.  It’s simple self-preservation. I don’t fancy listening to you moan about having to drink your tea sans milk. I won’t be out for long. Just ring me when you get closer; and I’ll come down and help you with your mountain of luggage.”_

“I don’t have a mountain of luggage.” 

_“Fancy that! What a treat that must have been for the baggage handlers!"_

“You’re sarcasm isn’t wasted on me.”

_“That’s comforting to hear.”_

“It’s more akin to a hill of luggage,” snickered Benedict.

_“I was right. You’ve got the usual assortment of shit.  It’s a fucking mountain.”_

“Bugger off.  And I say that with great affection.”

_“Tsk, tsk.  I was even going to stop at the bakery to get some sweets; because I know what a fucking tart you are for them.  However, now, I’m not so sure I’m going to.”_

 “I did say 'bugger off' with great affection.  You must have missed my dulcet tone of voice.”

**_“_ ** _If I bugger off then you’ll have no one to assist you up the stairs.  I’m in a third floor walk up you know.”_

“Ah, it looks like everything’s finally been sorted, and we’re ready to depart.  See you soon.”

_“You’re driving into Manhattan on a weekday.  There’s no such thing as soon. Cheers!”_

 

 *************************************************************************************************************************************

 

Steven slid in beside Benedict as the driver shut the door behind him. Once inside the car, the driver asked Benedict for the address he was going to and made some notes on a clipboard.  The he called his dispatcher to inform her of the extra passenger and additional drop off address.

“Well, that’s finally taken care of,” declared Steven as he fastened his seat belt.

“I could get used to such treatment,” grinned Benedict, doing up his seat belt as well.  “This is so much better than having to worry about catching two trains whilst toting all that luggage around.”

“Um…Ben, you weren’t kidding when you said Neil would be surprised that he’s going to be charged for two passengers going to two different destinations.  The driver was under the impression that he was just taking me home. It seems Neil really did make the reservation for one passenger, which I don’t understand.  That’s not like him to fuck up, unless he asked his assistant to do it for him; but she’s super-efficient.”

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck as the limo glided away from the curb and into the airport traffic heading towards the internal roadway.

“The booking was correct.  It only should have been for one person because Neil and Antonia don’t know I’m here.”

“What?”  Steve shook his head as if to clear it and stared at Benedict as if he had two heads.  “You never told them you were coming?”

“No.  I kept meaning to, but somehow I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.  Honestly, Steve, they terrify me at times.”

“Jesus Christ.  I know I advised you to propose and tell them after the fact; but I thought you’d at least have the courtesy to tell them that you were coming in to surprise Donna for her birthday.”

“Well, you thought wrong then.  I’m not courteous when it comes to dealing with them.  They cause me such anxiety that I can’t even begin to tell you the half of it.”

“Please don’t and save your breath,” snapped Steven.  “If you didn’t want to speak with them, then at least shoot them an email saying that you were coming in with me.  As bitchy as my in-laws can be, I really think they deserved at least to know that much.”

Benedict sighed deeply.  “Nothing like being dressed down twice in less than an hour,” he pouted.

“What do you mean?”

“I rang my friend, Tertius, to make sure my mobile was working here; and he more or less said the same thing to me.  I really cocked this up.” 

“That’s putting it mildly. Shit. Do you realize that Neil and Toni probably went ahead and made a dinner reservation for the girls’ birthday at one of those hard to book restaurants!   They may have even gotten tickets to a show or concert.   Man, they are going to be pissed when they find out you’re throwing a wrench into their plans. There is nothing worse – as far as Neil and Toni are concerned – than to have someone come along and screw up their plans.”

"Aren't you privy to the plans?"

"Hell, no!" snorted Steve. "I only find out about these things on a need-to-know basis; and no one seems to think that I need to know at this time."

“Well, you can cease stressing out;  because I plan on ringing them as soon as I get to my friend’s flat.”

“Oh ho!  Nothing like giving them practically no notice, Ben.”

“I’m sure they’ll come around once I tell them why I’m here.”

Steven rolled his eyes and did an imitation of Benedict.  _“_ Oh, hello!  I just flew in from London this morning because I’ve decided to surprise Donna on her birthday.  This is a courtesy call to inform you that she’ll be spending the entire day with me. Therefore, you can cancel whatever plans you already made. Hope this isn’t too terribly inconvenient; but I don’t give a toss. Cheers. Oh that will go down real well, Benedict.  You think you have problems getting along with them now...”

“Christ.  Do I actually sound like that?”

“Not in so many words, but sometimes you come off as arrogant and condescending.”

“Like Neil does,” mused Benedict.  “One would think we should be great friends then,” he snorted.

“You’ll never be friends.  The best you can hope for is a truce.”

“My plan is to simply invite them to lunch tomorrow and properly ask Neil for Donna’s hand in marriage.”

Steve barked out a laugh.  “I don’t know if you’re a brave man or a fucking fool! I’d go with the birthday surprise myself, then propose and tell them after the fact.”

“Perhaps I can manage to salvage things…”

“The damage will be done no matter which road you take.”

“You _really_ didn’t ask Neil for Carly’s hand?”

“No.  I didn’t.  No one knew what my plans were – not even Donna.  I proposed to Carly at Disney on a random Saturday night while we were working there over one summer.  I took her to dinner at the California Grill.  It’s a restaurant at the top of the Contemporary Hotel and overlooks the Magic Kingdom.  I timed our reservation to coincide with the nightly firework show.  Afterwards, we called Neil and Toni on Skype and told them.”

“You were truly a brave man.”

“I don’t think Neil was happy that I chose to do it that way; but I didn’t feel the need to ask his permission to marry his daughter, who was over twenty-one at the time. There was nothing he could do or say but to offer his congratulations.”

“I’m impressed as hell.”

“Don’t be.  It was a sense of false security. The son of a bitch did tell me off a couple of years later in the midst of an argument.”

“You don’t strike me as the type to let the wanker get away with that.”

“Correct. First, I just let him have his say.  Then I told him if I had to do it all over again, I’d still do it the same way and that it was still none of his motherfucking business.  It was my business and mine alone.”

“I’m in awe of you.”

“And you bloody well should be.”

“You’re starting to sound a wee bit like someone who’s been living in London.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment, Ben.”

“It was meant to be.”

“You’re _really_ going to ask Neil?  Are you _sure_ you want to put yourself through an ordeal like that?”

“No, but it’s the proper thing to do.  That’s how we English do it.  I’m a stickler for tradition, so be it.”

“May God have mercy on your naïve little soul.  You have no idea what you’re letting yourself in for, Ben.”

“Yeah.  I think I do.  It’s not going to be pretty; but I think they’ll finally come to terms with the situation and embrace it. Besides, I plan on having the finished ring with me to show them.”

“Well, that will certainly get you brownie points – especially with Toni.  Neil will call you cheap because you didn’t buy it.”

“I bought the entire setting!” exclaimed Benedict.  “That surely should count for something.”

“It will.  It will count for very little in his eyes.”

“I love how supportive you are.”

“My goal is to make sure you’re prepared for them. Where are you taking them to lunch?”

“Asiate in the Mandarin Oriental Hotel – have you been?  I saw photos on their website whilst I was trying to book the Nutcracker Afternoon Tea in their Lobby Lounge.”

“That’s an excellent choice! Carly and I have been there for brunch with Neil and Toni. The place has magnificent views and great food.  It’s one of their favorite brunch spots; so it will definitely garner you even more brownie points, which you’re seriously going to need, my friend.”

“Well, I am aiming to impress the fuck out of them.  I took the liberty of requesting a window booth rather than a table when I made the booking.  The woman I spoke with said the views were more panoramic from the tables; but I felt it of paramount importance to sacrifice view for a bit more privacy…particularly when I can’t predict what their reaction will be for certain.”

“Personally, I think the view is fine no matter where you sit.  The place is mostly floor-to-ceiling windows and the views from the window booths are fine. Not meaning to play Devil’s Advocate…”  Steven allowed his voice to trail off.

“Since you’ve been doing such a fine and splendid job of it so far, I see no reason for you to stop now,” said Benedict, a note of irritation creeping into his voice. 

“Have you considered the possibility that Toni may be tied up in court tomorrow or that Neil may have a lunch meeting or be at a screening?”

Benedict suddenly appeared flustered as Steven’s words sank in. “Bloody motherfucking hell! Can’t Antonia send someone else to cover for her in court?  She owns the fucking firm.  Surely, Neil can cancel or postpone a meeting.  He’s the editor for God’s sake!  This is far more important …”

“To _you_ it is; but if the other attorneys are also in court or tied up with other things, Toni can’t.   And even though Neil does have a lot of clout, there are times when his superiors need to meet with him or he’s covering for one of the other critics.  People can’t always drop what they’ve got planned just because you’ve unexpectedly dropped in with all these grandiose plans.”

“It’s not as if I’m swanning around New York on a jolly and decided to lunch with them on a whim,” said Benedict petulantly, as he ran his hand through his hair.

“They don’t know that.  It will just appear that way to them.”

Steven regarded Benedict with a raised eyebrow.  Benedict leaned his head back against the seat and sighed deeply.

“And I’m going to drop in – so to speak – unexpectedly and cock up all their plans.  Well done me.”

“You need to call them as soon as you get to your friends place; and hopefully, they’ll both be free. Then we’ll meet up and go to Frank’s so you can get that diamond set.”

“Hmmm…maybe I’ll get lucky and Neil won’t be able to join us.  I’d much rather deal with Antonia than that right bastard.”

“Unfortunately, it’s more likely that Toni’s the one who won’t be able to come, rather than Neil.” 

“That would be just my motherfucking luck yes?”

“He’s got more flexibility when it comes to his schedule.  Toni’s at the mercy of the court schedule, should she be in court tomorrow. There’s one other little thing I just thought of: given their respective locations, one or both of them may try to change the lunch venue.  The Mandarin Oriental is easy for Neil to get to, but not Toni – especially if she’s coming from the courts downtown.”

“I didn’t consider that.  I haven’t a clue as to where the New York Times or Antonia’s office or the courts are located.  I suppose I’ll just change the meeting venue if they ask.” 

“They may not buy the ‘I’m here to surprise Donna for her birthday’ reason.  They know you’re serious about having a future with their daughter, so they may surmise your true intentions.”

“I suppose I haven’t much of a choice then. I’ll have to make the best of whatever happens and hope they take my news well and are happy for Donna. I don’t give a toss if they like me or not.”

_Of course you do, Benedict, you dolt.  You know deep down inside that you’re doing this not only because it’s the right thing to do but because you also seek their approval.  You want to get along with them…you need to get along with them.  
_

“All I can say is that life is a whole hell of a lot more pleasant if Neil and Toni are on your side – and I speak from personal experience. I’ve been on both sides of the fence.”

“You are starting to contradict yourself a bit, Doctor.  And people are forever accusing me of waffling! I could use some help here.  Might you find it in yourself to impart some sage advice.”

Steve licked his lips and took a deep breath. 

“My advice to you is - above all else – try and remain respectful and polite to them at all times. Do not lose your temper – regardless of what they say. Both Neil and Toni are huge sticklers for manners, which is one of the things they like about you, so I’m told.”

“Really?  Well, it’s a comfort to hear they like _something_ about me,” snorted Benedict. “Reigning in my temper may prove to be a challenge though.  Anyway, as you were then.”

“You will need to stick to your guns when you see them attempting to intimidate and coerce you – because they will. You need to establish boundaries for the long term, which is a delicate balancing act.”

“Christ.  I really wish I hadn’t promised Donna that I’d stop smoking.  I could kill for a fag now.”

“You’re doing a fine job of staying off them, and your body will thank you.  Tell you what:  I’ll have a nice, stiff drink waiting for you after you’ve finished with your other errands tomorrow. Give me a call, and we’ll meet up somewhere so you can fill me in.  What are you doing after the power lunch?”

“Since Asiate is so close to Lincoln Center, I was planning on walking over to pick up the ballet tickets. Afterwards, I’m going to a florist, followed by a quick stop at Restaurant Daniel to review the details for Friday night’s dinner with the Maître D.”

“Daniel is pretty close to our townhouse.  There are a few places we can get together and have a drink nearby.”

“I’d like it if you would bring Carly along.  I’d like to tell her myself and show her the ring as well.”

The two men rode in silence for a while.

“Are you sure I can’t talk you out of this folly, Ben?” teased Steven.

“Not a chance, Mate. I’ve never been as sure of anything in my life as I am of this. Donna and I are going to be engaged in less than seventy-two hours!  I’m so over the moon.”

The pair rode in silence as they drove through the Queens Midtown Tunnel into Manhattan.

“We haven’t hit any traffic to speak of yet,” mused Benedict. “You made it sound as if we were going to spend hours stuck in traffic.”

“Miracles do happen,” laughed Steven.  “I was just thinking, Neil won’t find out about the revised car service bill until he gets his credit card statement.”

“Can you imagine his reaction when he finds out there was an extra passenger going to a second address?”

Steven smiled.  “Yes.  I can, and it cheers me greatly to imagine it.  Especially when he discovers that you were the extra passenger.”

“I would think Neil would be more than happy to pick up the extra charge being it’s for his future son-in-law,” quipped Benedict with a cheeky grin.

“One would think,” agreed Steven Cipriano.  “But we both know better. Damn, I dearly wish I were going to that lunch tomorrow.”

 

 

Benedict Cumberbatch sat on the sagging mattress of the twin-sized bed in Tertius Bune’s tiny guest room. He fluffed the two pillows and leaned back against the brass head board before picking up the cordless land line on the bedside table. 

_Okay, Benedict. You’ve procrastinated long enough.  You unpacked.  You went out with Tertius to grab a sarnie at Chelsea Market and have a catch up. Now it’s time to ring the wanker parents before you meet Steve.  Which one should I try first?  Hmmm…I think I’d prefer to deal with Antonia.  She’s the more tolerable out of the two.  
_

Benedict punched in the number for Antonia’s mobile and waited for the connection whilst he gazed out the small window at the brownstone across the quiet street in Chelsea. As the sound of ringing began, Benedict caught himself gnawing on his thumb. 

_If Antonia has caller ID, which I’m fairly certain she would, she won’t recognize this number.  That was very generous of Tertius to suggest I use his land line for local calls._

_“Antonia Saint James,”_ answered Toni pleasantly.

Benedict took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

_“Hello?  Is anyone there?”_

“Hello, Antonia,” said Benedict cheerfully.

_“Benedict! I’d recognize your voice anywhere! How nice to hear from you.  I see you’re calling from a local number. Are you in New York?”_

 Benedict rubbed the back of his neck.  “Erm…yeah.  I got in this morning.”

_“Ah, so it was you who took the car service with Steve to that address on West 16 th Street.”_

_How in the fuck did she know that?_

_“I was reviewing our Amex statement online and saw there was an extra passenger and drop off address added to the bill.”_

  _Fuck those instant online billing statements.  
_

_“I was just saying to Neil that it must have been an error and was about to call the car service to dispute it when you called.  So, now I don’t have to. Mystery solved!”_ she laughed.

“Erm…I fully intend to pay for my share of the bill, Antonia.  I don’t want you to think that I was taking advantage or anything of the sort.”

_I was being cheeky and taking advantage.  I’m sure she knows that as well._

_“I won’t hear of it.  It made perfect sense for you and Steve to share the car being you were either on the same flight as him or one that came in around the same time.”_

**** _She’s looking for confirmation on the flight. There’s no harm in telling her._

“We were on the same flight,” admitted Benedict.

_“I take it you flew in to surprise Donna for her birthday; otherwise she certainly would have told us you were coming.”  
_

_She misses nothing, bless her._

“Erm…well, yeah.  No one knows I’m here, except for Steve and my friend, Tertius.”

_And your brother, Frank; but he’s sworn to absolute secrecy._

_“You’re welcome to stay with us, Benedict. I know how expensive hotels in Manhattan are, and we have a very comfortable guest room with its own en suite bathroom.”_

 Benedict almost dropped the phone at her words. _Now that’s quite a surprise!  She wants me to stay with them, and the offer was sincere.  I can’t even imagine what it would be like staying in the same house as them.  I’d be daft to accept such an invitation._

“That’s very lovely of you to offer, Antonia; but I’m staying in Tertius’ flat near Chelsea Market.”

_“Well, should you change your mind, just let me know.  It’s no trouble at all. We’d be happy to have you.”_

_Okay.  Maybe you would, but no way in motherfucking hell would I believe that about your husband._

“I will.  Anyway, I…I was wondering if you and Neil are available to join me for lunch tomorrow.”

There was a pause at the end of the line. _  
_

_“Hmmm…that’s very short notice, Benedict.”_

“Yeah.  I realize that…I apologize for any inconvenience, but I really need…”

_“Hold on while I conference Neil in.”_

_Fuck me! Nooooooo! I don’t want to talk to the likes of him!_   _That’s why I rang you in the first place – to avoid something like this!_   Thought Benedict with dread as he began to gnaw on his thumb again.  _There are times like this when I wish I could stick a fag in my mouth.  It would give me something to do.  I ate all my damn mints on the plane and chewed all my nicotine gum.  I’ll have to make it my business to buy some more or I won’t survive the week._

 

**********************************************************

 

Neil Saint James was just about to leave his office to attend a screening of the next week’s episode of  _The Office_ with one of the junior TV critics, when his cellphone began to ring.  He smiled to see that it was his wife.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” he purred. ** _  
_**

_“I’m not sure you’re going to categorize this as a pleasure because I have Benedict Cumberbatch holding and would like to conference you in with us.”_

“You’re right, Toni.  I definitely don’t consider having to talk to Cumberbatch a pleasure. What does he want that he would call us from London?”

_“He’s not in London.  He’s here in New York and wants to take us out to lunch tomorrow.”_

“You’re kidding.”

_“No.  I’m dead serious.”_

“Oh, for goodness sake! What in the hell is he doing in New York?”

_“He claims he flew in to surprise Donna for her birthday.”_

“You just don’t hop a plane and fly across the Atlantic for a slice of birthday cake, Toni.  Cumberbatch has an ulterior motive.”

Toni began to laugh. _“Of course he does!  He must think we’re pretty gullible.”_

“No, the jerk is trying to be dramatic and mysterious - just like an actor. There’s no way he’d just call us up and issue an invitation to lunch. We’re the last people on earth that he’d want to lunch with.”

_“Oh, I agree!  I wouldn’t want to have lunch with us either if I were him,”_ snickered Toni.

“Is Donna coming along to this lunch?”

_“We didn’t get that far.  I wanted to call and give you a head’s up first. I hope I didn’t interrupt anything.”_

Neil sighed deeply.  “I’m supposed to be in the downstairs conference room for the screening of next week’s episode of _The Office_ in ten minutes _.”_ ** _  
_**

_“Oh, I’m sorry.  You go ahead, and I’ll speak with Benedict.  Can you just take a quick peek at your calendar and tell me if you’re free for lunch tomorrow?”  
_

“To tell the truth, if it’s anything like last week’s episode; I’d rather skip it and subject my ears to Cumberbatches incessant chattering – if you can believe that.”

_“Oh, I do believe it.  It hasn’t been a great season so far. Aren’t you supposed to be reviewing it?”_

“No.  The new kid, Jimmy is.  I’ve been sitting in so we can discuss the episode and his critique afterwards, but I think he’s ready to do it without any help. Go ahead and conference me in,” said Neil, as he checked his calendar. “I’m free for lunch tomorrow.”

“ _Now, be nice to Benedict,"_ Toni warned him.

"Give me one good reason why I should."

_"Because your daughter is in love with him, and one day he'll most likely be your son-in-law."_

"Jesus Christ, Toni!  Stop reminding me of that possibility," groaned Neil.

_"He also seems very nervous and intimidated at the prospect of speaking to us.”_

“Excellent.  That’s exactly as it should be,” chuckled Neil Saint James.

Neil switching his phone to the speaker feature, got up and plopped down on the couch that was across the room from his desk.  He put his feet up on the coffee table in front of it and yawned. His eyes were immediately drawn to Wanda Ventham’s infamous framed letter, which never failed to make him smile.  

 

***************************************************

 

Benedict sat on the bed staring out the window at the brownstone directly  across the street.  He had been watching a boy, who looked to be about twelve, playing a trumpet in the front room of the flat directly across from Tertius’ building.  His fingers touched his lower lip, which had been altered by playing the trumpet when he was a boy.

_Poor little chap.  If he only knew he was going to get trumpet mouth eventually, he wouldn’t want to play the bloody thing.  No one bothers to tell you that playing that fucking instrument literally wounds you.  Donna was so surprised when I told her my lower lip wasn’t always this generous._

There was a slight knock on the door to the bedroom .

“Come!” called Benedict.

Tertius poked his head in.  “Sorry!  I didn’t realize you were still on the phone.”

“I’m waiting for the mother to patch in the wanker father, so we can discuss lunch.”

“Shit.  I don’t envy you.”

“Neither do I.”

“I’ve got a photo session that should last most of the afternoon, so I’ll see you later then.  Good luck with the ring.”

“Yeah.  Thanks.”

“We’ll meet up with the gang at Buddakan at eight. The food is epic.  You’ll be over the moon. Laters.”

“I’m really looking forward to seeing everyone again. Cheers.” 

Benedict sighed with impatience as soon as his friend had gone.

_For fucks sake!  What in the hell is taking her so long to conference him in?  Oh…I know.  They’re obviously talking about me.  I’m such a dolt sometimes._

_“Benedict?”_

_Shit!  Show time._

“I’m here, Antonia.”

_“Neil, are you with us?”_ **_  
_ **

_“Yes, Toni.  Hello, Ben.  I understand you’re in New York.”_

“Yes...Yes I am.  I was just telling Antonia that I decided to fly in and surprise Donna for her birthday.”

_“_ _Aren’t you the impulsive one,”_ chuckled Neil.  _“I was just telling Toni that’s a pretty expensive surprise to fly across the Atlantic Ocean just to wish our daughter a happy birthday.”_

“I’m not here on a jolly,” retorted Benedict.  “I’m here on business.”

_“Really?  What type of business may I ask?”_ inquired Toni with interest. 

_“Have you been summoned here for an audition?”_ asked Neil. _“I had no idea you were trying to break into the American entertainment market, when you haven’t really made much of a name for yourself in the British one – no offense intended, of course.”_ ** _  
_**

_Offense taken, you prick.  Don’t take the bait, Benedict.  Try and remain calm and don’t give him the satisfaction that he’s gone and pissed you off. There will be plenty of time to get back at him.  
_

“None taken,” sneered Benedict, trying to sound neutral and failing. “I’m not here for an audition.” _  
_

_“Did the backing fall through for After the Dance or did the BBC decide not to go ahead with Sherlock?”_ continued Neil. _“I know unfortunate things like that happen all the time.”_

“If that had happened, surely your dear friend, Rodney Renfield would have immediately alerted you to the fact. News like that travels fast in the entertainment world,” snapped Benedict. “You would probably hear before I would.”

_“So true,”_ agreed Neil. _“Then why are you here - besides from a burning desire to wish Donna a Happy Birthday in person.”_

“I’m actually here on personal business.”

_“Ah.  I see.”_

_No.  You don’t see for shit.  I hate when the smug bastard tries to bait me.  I won’t take it.  
_

_“I don’t have all day, Cumberbatch.  Out with it then.”_

_“Neil, how about letting Benedict finish his thoughts,”_ said Toni.

_Thank you, Antonia.  I truly appreciate that._

_“I think I already said that I don’t have all day…”_ **_  
_ **

_I realize it’s rude to interrupt him, but I’m not going to take his snark._

“I was telling your wife that I’d like to invite you both to lunch as my guests tomorrow at Asiate in the Mandarin Oriental Hotel.  There is something I’d like to discuss.  I’m hoping you are free to meet with me.”

_“What about Donna?”_ asked Toni. 

“I don’t want her to know that we’re lunching together, so I’d greatly appreciate it if neither of you tell her I’m in New York.  She’ll find out Friday.”

_“I promise not to say a word to her,”_ said Toni.  _“I’m also free for lunch, so count me in.”_

_“I am as well,”_ said Neil.  _“What time are we meeting you there?”_

“I made a booking for noon,” replied Benedict.  “Let’s meet in the Lobby Lounge.”

_“Sounds fine to me,”_ said Toni. 

_“I’m looking forward to it,”_ added Neil with a grimace that neither his wife nor Benedict could see.

_Liar.  He’s not looking forward to this lunch any more than I am._

“As am I,” lied Benedict Cumberbatch most graciously.  “Until tomorrow then.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I decided Donna needed to make one last attempt to divulge the Plan to Benedict. 
> 
> 2\. I have no idea as to what Tertius Bune's personality is like; so he's based on my imagination or lack of.
> 
> 3\. I visualize the real Benedict as being a procrastinator at times; so therefore, my version is.
> 
> 4\. Benedict's confession is partly based on an article I read about his time at boarding school and sexual experimentation. 
> 
> 5\. Chateau Gatwick was taken from the Molokai episode of Cabin Pressure aka the Christmas Special, which I believe was recorded in 2010; therefore, I needed an explanation to use it. Molokai remains one of my favorite CP episodes. 
> 
> 6\. Since the reboot of Star Trek came out in 2009, I also thought I'd throw that in.
> 
> 7\. I've never had more than a 5-10 minute wait going through immigration and customs in London and the US; so I'm attributing it to good timing of my flights arrivals. I've heard of very long waits on both ends, so I realize this isn't the norm.


	122. Chapter 122

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 1 of Lunch at Asiate. Benedict meets with Neil and Toni to ask for Donna’s hand in marriage and finds himself on the roller coaster to hell.
> 
> Note: I’ll be using ************* to indicate things happening at the same time.

 

Benedict Cumberbatch sat in a comfortable arm chair in the Lobby Lounge of the Mandarin Oriental Hotel.  His window table provided him with a sweeping view over the south end of Central Park as he sipped his coffee. The Lobby Lounge was located on the thirty-fifth floor of the hotel and was famous for the views.  Benedict could also see the bustling Columbus Circle Christmas Market below. The intersection was a very busy one with bright yellow taxis weaving in and out of traffic while a couple of horse drawn carriages, festively decorated for the holidays, waited alongside the road in hopes of enticing tourists into taking a ride through the park. Benedict set down his cup and saucer before signaling the server for his bill, so he could settle it prior to the arrival of Donna’s parents.  

After having dinner with his friends the night before, Benedict had returned to Tertius’ flat close to midnight. He placed a Skype call to Donna with the camera turned off under the pretense that he couldn’t get a visual lest she see him sitting in the guest bedroom.  Benedict told her that he had to be up early for a voice-over job. Donna filled him in on what she had been doing in New York and asked him what else was new in London.  Benedict told her that the pickups for Van Gogh were done and that there had been a couple of meetings with Mark Gatiss and Steve Moffat concerning _Sherlock_.  He had been excited to report that they had presented him with the final script of _The Great Game_ , which was the first episode they would be filming right after New Year’s.

Once Donna had signed off Skype, Benedict turned on the camera and placed a call to Wanda and Timothy.  His parents had been up early, anxiously awaiting a sneak peek at the finished engagement ring.  After promising to ring them back as soon as he had finished lunch with Donna’s parents, Benedict had gotten ready for bed.  To his great dismay, sleep eluded him as he lie awake in the narrow bed – mind racing over the details for the following day. Every possible negative scenario with Donna’s parents kept running through his brain. Unable to sleep, Benedict had stayed up late reading _The Great Game_ script until he finally dropped off only to find himself wide awake at the crack of dawn. In order to help burn off some nervous energy, Benedict had opted to go for a run on the High Line, whose first section had just opened in June.  Tertius had pointed out the elevated park built on a disused railroad spur the night before, and Benedict had enjoyed the view immensely.

Upon returning to the flat, Benedict took a hot shower and carefully laid out what he planned to wear to the lunch meeting with Donna’s parents.  When he emerged from the guestroom, he found that Tertius had made them a light breakfast of toasted bagels with cream cheese and hot Darjeeling tea. Once his friend had gone out to run some errands, Benedict practiced his speech to Neil and Toni in front of a mirror until his was satisfied. Then he placed a Skype call to his insurance agent in London in order to have Donna’s ring insured.  After that was done, Benedict dressed carefully, making sure to place the ring and envelope containing the appraisal in the inside pocket of his sports coat.

Satisfied that there was nothing left to do, Benedict sat on the couch and turned on the telly.  The news shows were over and there was nothing that held his interest on the chatty morning shows that he found were just like the ones in London.  Next, he checked the time and saw that it was still early.  Benedict attempted to keep his mind occupied by reading one of the books he had brought with him, but it was no use.  His thoughts kept returning to what he was going to say once he was face-to-face with Neil and Toni. Feeling restless, Benedict had finally decided to take the subway up to Columbus Circle early and walk around the enclosed mall that was adjacent to the Mandarin Oriental. 

And now he sat, impatiently waiting for his guests to show up.

_I need to take one last look at it before they get here._

Benedict removed and opened the small, heart-shaped, black velvet box that he had in his inner sports jacket pocket.  Donna’s engagement ring glittered in the bright sunlight that shone through the floor-to-ceiling wall of glass.  He smiled with pride as he gazed upon the sparkling flower of diamonds.

_It really did come out as beautiful as I imagined it would. Mum and Dad were over the moon when I showed it to them last night.  I can’t stop looking at it. Can this finally be happening? Am I really going to have my happily-ever-after with the love of my life?  It’s like I’m in a dream, which is about to become a nightmare.  
_

Benedict tucked the box back inside his pocket and patted the envelope containing the appraisal he had obtained after parting company with Donna’s uncle.

_I can’t wait to shove this in their faces,_ thought Benedict with glee _.  Steve and I were both speechless when we heard how much this little bauble is worth.  I’m glad I took Steve’s advice and arranged to insure it this morning.  I’d never, ever, be able to afford to replace it…though the insurance policy is a lot more than I thought it would be.  
_

His watch showed that it was a quarter to twelve.  A feeling of butterflies began to fill his stomach as Benedict craned his neck to see if he could spot Donna’s parents in the lobby.  There was no sign of them, so he resumed reading the copy of the New York Times he had brought up with him.  

 

*******************************************************

 

The elevator door slid open at the thirty-fifth floor to reveal the sky lobby of the Mandarin Oriental Hotel.  Neil Saint James ventured out onto the highly polished black tile floor and scanned the area for his wife, who was nowhere to be seen.  He sent Toni a brief text saying that he had arrived and would be in the Gift Shop.  As he was perusing the assortment of hand lotions and soaps, Toni entered the shop and came up behind him.

“They have lovely-smelling hand lotion in the ladies room, but somehow I don’t think you came in here to buy one for me,” said Toni, standing by his side.

“You are correct,” replied Neil, kissing her lightly on the lips. “Though if you like it that much, I’m all for indulging you.”

“I got here early, so I thought I’d use the facilities first. Originally, I had planned on taking a cab, when Scarlett pointed out that at this time of day the subway was still the faster way – even with the change.”

“I was here in no time, so I came in here to do some browsing, which took all of five minutes.  It’s a very tiny gift shop for such a large hotel, don’t you think?”

“I think you could have gone in the lounge without me.”

“I was waiting for you so we could make our entrance together. I’m also not eager to have a one-on-one with Cumberbatch this early in the day. I would need to fortify myself with a drink beforehand, and the bar doesn’t open until noon.”         

Toni smiled at her husband.  “How dramatic you are, Neil,” she teased.

“I’m not aiming for dramatic. I’m going for old-fashioned intimidation, and the two of us make a formidable team when it comes to that.”

“I seriously doubt he’s even here yet,” laughed Toni. “From my past experience - and from what Donna says, Benedict is perpetually late.”

Neil sighed. “I suppose we’ll have to make the best of it and wait for the jerk to show up. How about if I treat you to a tube of that lotion, and then we’ll share a pot of that orange and vanilla-flavored tea you like in the meantime.”

“Hand lotion _and_ tea.  I’m such a lucky woman!” smiled Toni.

 

********************************************************

 

Benedict was in the midst of reading the film reviews when his text chime went off.  It was Steven:

 

**Just wanted to wish you good luck with the Neil and Toni Show.  S**

**Thanks.  I’ve been sat here in the fucking lounge off the lobby for an hour attempting to distract myself with a read of the paper and a coffee.  B**

**Good idea.  S**

**It’s not working as well as I had hoped. The coffee is only making me more anxious than I already am.  I’ve also caught myself reading the same article over and over.  B**

**You’re just nervous, which is perfectly normal.  It’s just about noon now. They should be there any minute. S**

**They’re just as obsessed as Donna is with being on time yes?  B**

**The Saint James Family motto is:  Always early, never late. S**

**It’s the eleventh commandment:  thou shalt not be late.  B**

**LOL! Good one. Unfortunately for you, punctuality runs in that family.  S**

**Well this time, I am disgustingly early and there was no one here to revel in it except me.  B**

**I will revel just knowing that.  S**

**They’ll be shocked when they see that I was here before them. B**

**I hope they don’t drop dead from the shock. S**

**No such luck.  B**

**You’re a nasty bastard this morning.  S  
**

**Yeah.  I am.  I also think you’re laughing on the inside.  B**

**No.  I’m not. You made me laugh out loud. S**

**I knew we were kindred spirits.  B**

**I’m every bit as bad as you are. S**

Benedict looked up to see Neil and Antonia Saint James standing at the entrance to the Lobby Lounge, obviously looking for him. 

 

**Fuck me.  They’re here!  B**

**It’ll be fine. We’ll meet you at David Burke’s Townhouse for drinks and dinner.  I’ll reserve us a table in the bar area for seven.  S**

 

Benedict lifted a slim hand in greeting as he got to his feet, catching Toni’s attention.  The couple immediately descended the stairs and made their way across the room to where he had been sitting. 

_God help me get through this lunch with my sanity and pride intact._

 

********************************************************

 

Neil and Toni left the gift shop after purchasing a tube of the hand lotion and crossed the lobby towards the lounge.  

“So, we’re in agreement that Cumberbatch has come all this way to ask Donna to marry him?” inquired Neil. 

Toni nodded as she tucked the tube into her handbag.  “Absolutely. That’s the only reason that makes any sense.”

“Do you think I should be hard on him or let him off easy when he asks me?” wondered Neil with a smirk on his handsome face.

Toni stopped and cocked an eyebrow at her husband.  “Have you considered that Benedict may do something similar to what Steve did?”

“Steve proposed to Carly _first_ , and _then_ they called to tell us. He completely blind-sided us. This scenario starts off differently.  Donna doesn’t know the jerk is here yet.”

“What I meant is Benedict may just tell us of his intentions and leave it at that.”

“Like a courtesy heads up?”

“Exactly.”

“You’re wrong, Darling Dear,” huffed Neil. “If anything, Benedict Cumberbatch is a born and bred Englishman.  I have to hand it to him that he has fine manners – a majority of the time.  As Pa said to me this morning, Cumberbatch has been steeped in the old-fashioned traditions as to what’s fine and expected behavior. There’s no doubt in my mind that he’ll do the _proper_ thing and ask for Donna’s hand in marriage.  Of that I am one hundred percent certain.” 

“Pa approves of Benedict whole-heartedly you realize,” declared Toni with a smile.  “And not just because he’s Wanda Ventham’s son.”

Neil smiled and nodded.  “Oh, I do think that has a _little_ something to do with it.”

“I think Pa genuinely likes Benedict.  He’s never said one word against him.”

“You’re right, I suppose. After Donna, my father is Cumberbatches biggest supporter.”

“Carly and Steve also think the world of him,” added Toni.  “Perhaps we’re missing something.  Benedict's not a bad person by any means.  He’s mannerly and quite funny at times.”

“Do you mean funny as in ha-ha funny or funny as in strange?”

“A little of both,” giggled Toni.  “Benedict Cumberbatch is like no one Donna has ever brought home before.”

“I just hope he doesn’t show up dressed like…Lord, I don’t know how to describe his fashion sense,” quipped Neil, scratching his head in puzzlement.

“There’s nothing to describe because the man has none,” declared Toni disgustedly.  “I hope he doesn’t wear that awful pink corduroy sports jacket!”

“Or that black velvet number with the satin lapels,” chimed in Neil with a grin. “I think that one’s my favorite.”

“Oh, what I wouldn’t give to have just one afternoon in Barney’s menswear department with Benedict,” sighed Toni longingly. “I could have him looking like a million bucks in no time!”

“Which he couldn’t afford to pay for,” quipped Neil.  “I wonder if he’s already purchased an engagement ring.”

“Hmmm…I don’t know.”  Suddenly, Toni came to a dead stop and grabbed Neil’s sleeve.  “Wait!  That’s it!” she exclaimed, snapping her fingers.  “I know why Benedict wants to meet with us!  He’s going to tell us of his intentions and then ask us to go ring shopping with him.  I can call Frank and let him know we’re coming.  He can have a selection of stones and settings ready for when we get there.  I know he has Donna’s ring size on file, so all we have to do is come up with something to fit Benedict’s budget that Donna will like.”

"What budget? Does Cumberbatch look like someone who has a lot of extra cash floating around to purchase a decent-sized engagement ring?"

"I'm sure he has enough set aside to afford something in the neighborhood of half a carat.  Donna loves him, so she won't care at this point. I wouldn't be too concerned about it for the time being.  She can always up-trade it later on for a larger stone in a few years."

"That's provided Cumberbatch is making more money by then."

"Let's be positive, Neil. You, yourself, said this morning that Benedict has talent and the potential to make it big with the right breaks."

"Did I?"

"Yes, you did.  Unless it was another Neil Saint James who was having breakfast with Pa."

"That was my gentler, kinder twin you must have overheard. You realize that Donna could afford to go out and buy her own ring.  She doesn't need his small nest egg," snickered Neil.

"True, but it wouldn't have the same meaning. At first, she'll adore whatever he presents her with, no matter how small the diamond is. Once the love dust settles and they're married awhile; she can trade it in."

"Like you did with yours on our twenty-fifth anniversary."

"Which was your idea in the first place," Toni reminded him.

"Have you ever considered that Cumberbatch may want Donna to pick out her own ring?"

Toni burst out laughing. "Stop being so silly, Dear Heart! Now, that would be the practical choice considering Benedict's lack of taste and how finicky Donna can be; but he doesn't strike me as the type who will be sensible in this case."

"You're right.  He's the type who will want to have complete control."

"You're wrong. Benedict is a romantic, which is why he'll want to pick out the ring himself."

“I think you might have a point, Toni.  It wouldn’t hurt to alert your brother that we may be stopping by after lunch with Donna’s boyfriend once we’ve sat down.”

The couple approached the entrance to the Lobby Lounge and waited for the hostess to return to the podium to seat them. 

“Let’s ask for a window table,” suggested Neil.  “What are you looking for?”

“Benedict.”

“Hope springs eternal,” cackled Neil. “He’s probably just getting under way now.”

“Part of me wants to give him the benefit of the doubt.”

“You’re forever the optimist, my darling dear.”

“Ha!  And this time it paid off – look, over by the window on the left!  Isn’t that Benedict waving at us?”

Neil squinted in order to better see the tall, young man wearing a chocolate brown sports jacket and matching turtle neck sweater over a pair of beige  trousers.  A darker shade of brown scarf was casually draped over his neck and on his feet were a pair of brown and white Converse sneakers.

“I’ll be damned,” said Neil Saint James as they made their way down the steps and towards the table.  “It’s a fucking miracle.  I almost didn’t recognize him.”

“His hair’s quite a bit longer than the last time we saw him.  I do love his natural color.”

“He’s dressed half decently for once – and coordinated.  I bet his friend told him what to wear.”

“You obviously haven’t looked at his feet yet.  He’s wearing sneakers! And it looks like he’s got a Trilby hat, too.  See  it’s on the empty chair.” 

“I did say ‘half’ decently, didn’t I?” snickered Neil.  “Just be thankful it wasn’t the pink corduroy jacket.”

“Such a homely face shouldn’t be wearing hats,” continued Toni with disdain.

“You do realize that any children he and Donna have might resemble him.”

“Oh, hush up, Neil!” hissed Toni under her breath.  "Heaven forbid!"

"I just want to remind you that we're supposed to be thinking positive today," snickered Neil from behind her.

 

*******************************************************

 

Benedict Cumberbatch swallowed hard and steeled himself for the onslaught of Donna’s parents.  He buttoned his chocolate brown jacket and gave them his most professional smile.

“Thank you for joining me, Antonia, Neil,” said Benedict, leaning down to give Toni a double-cheeked kiss.

“How nice to see you again, Benedict,” said Toni in her most cordial tone.

“We almost didn’t recognize you,” declared Neil, as he shook Benedict’s hand.  “Your hair is quite a bit longer than the last time we laid eyes on you.”

“Oh, yeah.  It’s in my contract that my hair must be a certain length for _Sherlock_ ,” explained Benedict.  “They want it to be even longer and fuller than it is now.  I’m also going to have to dye it dark brown for the show, but that won’t be until after Christmas.”

“I like your hair longer,” commented Toni, taking a closer look. “You have such nice, lush curls.”

Benedict felt himself blush at her compliment.  “Maybe so; but it’s a bugger to maintain. Our table should be ready now, shall we?”

 

 

Toni and Neil sat side-by-side in the window booth opposite Benedict in Asiate.  Toni was nearest the window, which afforded them with a view of the buildings on the West Side.

“We’ve never sat in one of the booths before,” commented Toni.  “We always sit at one of the tables on the lower level right next to the windows that overlook the park…though I can see the treetops from here.”

“The view is much better down there,” observed Neil, as he started to get up.  “I’m going to ask if they can move us.”

“No,” commanded Benedict sharply.  “I specifically requested one of these booths so we’d have a bit of privacy.”

Neil and Toni exchanged looks, and Benedict noticed that Toni barely touched her husband’s sleeve with her index finger.

_Ah, yes.  They’re using their super-secret signals.  They don’t know that I’m wise to their bullshit.  Steve told me what to look for, bless him._

“And here we’ll sit,” said Neil pleasantly.  “You are the host after all.”

“This is one of our favorite restaurants,” said Toni.  “The food is excellent.”

As if on cue, the server appeared to bring them their menus and to fill their water glasses.  After perusing the menu, Benedict noticed that both Neil and Toni had exchanged looks a couple of times as they discussed the menu.

_I bet they don’t want to order anything too over-the-top. They are trying to save me money, because they think I can’t afford it.  
_

“Please feel free to order whatever you fancy,” offered Benedict with his most gracious smile.

Toni leaned ever-so-slightly against her husband’s arm. 

_Hmmm…that must mean don’t order anything extravagant.  
_

“I’m in the mood for something light, so I’ll have the black cod,” said Toni.

“I’m having trouble making up my mind,” declared Neil. “Should I have the gnocchi or the wild salmon?”

“The gnocchi sounds good,” replied Toni.

_That’s the cheapest thing on the menu,_ thought Benedict.

“The gnocchi are handmade in house,” boasted the server.

_Of course they are_ , thought Benedict.  _Someone had to use their hands to make them. Just_ _like the bread was probably freshly baked in a bakery somewhere.  Christ, I sound as jaded as Donna does when she’s working!_

“Alright. I think I’ll go with the gnocchi.”

Benedict pursed his lips.  “Erm…I’ll have the suckling pig confit for my main please. Would either of you fancy a starter?”

Both Neil and Toni shook their heads.

“I’m not all that hungry,” replied Toni.  “I also prefer to eat lightly at lunchtime.”

“I broke down and ate one of those huge raisin walnut scones from Hot and Crusty this morning,” explained Neil.  “My assistant takes the train in from Long Island and gets these delicious scones at a bakery in Penn Station.  I can’t resist them, and she knows it,” he explained to Benedict. 

Benedict smiled up at the server. “We’ll pass on the starters then.”

“Can I offer you some wine to go with your meals?” the server addressed Benedict. “We have over three thousand bottles here at Asiate.  It’s one of the best selections in the city,” she added with great enthusiasm.

“We’ve had some truly wonderful ones here,” agreed Neil.

“Or if you prefer, we also offer them by the glass.”

_Oh, bloody hell! Here we go with the fucking wine again! I don’t give a toss as to how many motherfucking bottles of wine they have!  Christ!_   _Maybe I should just swallow my pride and ask Frederick the fucking Wine Virtuoso of the Tate Modern to teach me how to select a proper wine once and for all, so I never have to be stressed out whenever I’m confronted with that question again. I can only use John’s suggestion to ask the sommelier or server to choose for me so many times. Donna keeps offering to teach me, but I want to learn so I can impress her._

Benedict swallowed hard and ran a hand through his hair.

“Neil, Antonia, please feel free to have whatever you fancy.”

Neil’s eyes lit up at seeing Benedict’s obvious discomfort. 

_Cumberbatch hasn’t a clue as to how to choose wine.  I could see it in his eyes that night we dined at the Ivy. He was thrown into a tizzy when confronted with the wine list, and I can see the same look of panic on his face.  Too bad he was saved by the gratis champagne at the Ivy. However, there’s no one to save him now. This is going to be fun.  I’ll ask him to choose the wine even though I rarely have a drink with lunch.  I’ll make an exception just to watch him suffer.  
_

“Thank you, but I’ve got to work on a brief when I get back to the office,” said Antonia.  “I’ll just have one of the hand-blended iced teas with the pear nectar and sorrel. Ask the bartender to go easy on the ice, please.  There’s nothing worse than a watered down drink from too much ice,” she said as an aside to Benedict.

_She’s right about that,_ thought Benedict.  _They do love their ice here in the States, bless them._

“I’ll have a glass of whatever you’re having, Ben,” said Neil with a smug smile.

_You right bastard. You know I don’t know shit about choosing wine. Damn him!  Okay, Benedict.  You, too, can play the game with him.  Lob the ball back in his court._

“Oh, I’d much rather that _you_ choose, since you are my guest,” insisted Benedict with every bit of grace that he could muster.

_Nice volley, Cumberbatch; but I’m not going to let you get away that easily._

“Where I come from, the host _always_ chooses; so I defer to you, Ben,” Neil smiled.  “I trust your judgement.”

_Oh, ho!  You don’t trust my judgement for shit, you wanker!  He thinks he’s going to embarrass me.  It’s time to show him that he’s not going to best me this time._

“Fine then.  Two of the Make It Sappys please,” ordered Benedict, winking at Neil.  “I don’t make it a habit to imbibe alcohol with lunch.”

“I’ll be right back with those and some bread for the table,” said the server.

_Ah, I almost forgot that I’m in the land of the gratis bread basket,_ thought Benedict with amusement.

“What in the hell are we having?” chortled Neil as soon as the server had gone. “Sappy what?”

“It’s called Make It Sappy,” replied Benedict. “Grapefruit juice, ginger beer and maple syrup.”

“What a ridiculous name for a drink!” laughed Neil.  “Is that why you ordered it?”

_No, I ordered it mostly to save face; but it did sound rather tasty._

“To be honest, I thought it sounded very refreshing - and we can have a giggle over the name as well.”

Toni primly folded her hands on the table top.  Benedict took in her five-carat diamond engagement ring and diamond-encrusted wedding band.  He noticed that she also wore large diamond stud earrings and a yellow gold bracelet, studded with diamonds, adorned her wrist. 

_Dad and Steve were right about the jewelry.  Antonia’s got on enough to outfit a motherfucking Christmas tree or pay off the balance of my mortgage._ _Maybe it’s time to bring up the proposal.  This is harder than I thought it would be._ _  
_

“Donna’s going to be thrilled to see you, Benedict.  She’s been saying how much she misses you. What made you decide to come over at the last minute?” asked Toni nonchalantly.

_Ah, this wasn’t so hard. Antonia has led me right where I want to be!_

“Truth be told, I didn’t just fly over here on a jolly. I’ve been planning this for months,” replied Benedict.  “I’ve been secretive because I didn’t want to risk Donna finding out anything before I’m ready for her to.”

“We would _never_ divulge anything to Donna that you didn’t want us to,” said Toni emphatically. “You have our word.”

“My wife is particularly trust-worthy when it comes to keeping confidences,” added Neil, as he patted Toni’s hand.

“Lawyers specialize in keeping confidences,” scoffed Benedict.  “I would never hire one who couldn’t.”

“I just wish you would have taken us into your confidence sooner,” sighed Toni. “In the event that we need to re-arrange things…”  She cast a meaningful look at her husband, and Neil shrugged in response.

_Fuck me!  Steve did warn me about this. They must have made plans, and now I’m about to cock them up.  How can I put it so they won’t be too angry?  I need to think on this a bit._

“We can worry about that later,” said Benedict dismissively, whilst rubbing his thigh under the table.  “Is it…erm…always this cold in November?”

_Cumberbatch knows he’s done wrong,_ thought Neil.  _He just now has come to the realization that we might also have plans.  And my daughter is going to sign up for a life time of this.  More power to her._

“No.  I’m afraid you hit a cold snap,” laughed Toni.  “The Weather Channel is forecasting some snow for late tomorrow night into Saturday and a major storm for next week, but that will change several times before then.”

“We so rarely get snow in London that I wouldn’t mind seeing some, unless it’s going to interfere in any way with my travel plans home, of course.  I’m starting a project the Monday I get back.”

“How long do you intend on staying, Benedict?” inquired Toni.

“My flight leaves the night of the twenty-eight.”

“Oh, so you’ll be here for Thanksgiving!” exclaimed Toni with a huge smile.  “You’ll definitely have to spend the day with us.  Have you ever experienced an American Thanksgiving dinner?”

_Oh joy. I can’t even imagine Cumberbatch sitting at my dining room table waffling away all through Thanksgiving dinner, while Donna stares enraptured at him as if he were truly spouting something important. Shit.  I can hardly wait for that,_ thought Neil.

“Erm…no…nor am I that familiar with your traditions.  As far as I know,   Thanksgiving is a national holiday meant for giving thanks.”

“Yes, that’s right,” nodded Toni.

“And for watching football,” added Neil with a slight laugh.   _I can escape him when the games come on.  That will at least save the afternoon, thank God.  He won’t have any interest in American football.  Donna can take him over to see the inside of Gramercy Park, and they can walk Pierre afterwards. Problem solved.  
_

“It’s not _all_ about football, Dear,” Toni chided Neil affectionately.  “I warn you that Neil loves his football, Benedict.  It’s tough to get him to join us for dessert and coffee while the games are on. I have to time dessert in between games.”

“As far as I know, your Thanksgiving involves feasting on roast turkey and watching your version of football on the telly all day,” added Benedict.  “At least that’s how it’s been depicted in films and TV shows I’ve seen whilst growing up.”

“Excellent!  This will be your introduction to a real American Thanksgiving, Benedict. I just know you’re going to enjoy it immensely!” exclaimed Toni, warming to the topic.  “We start the day off by heading over to Macy’s to watch their annual parade.  Then we come back to the house – Neil and I always host Thanksgiving dinner and yes, I’m afraid we do watch the football games.  Most importantly, it will also give you the opportunity to meet my parents and…” _  
_

“Can we please dispense with the chit-chat and get to the purpose of this lunch?” Neil blurted out in exasperation.  “I know damn well that you didn’t invite us here just because you missed our company, Ben.  I would…owww!”

Benedict surmised that Toni must have kicked her husband under the table, as Neil visibly jumped and frowned at her.

_Well done you, Antonia.  I wouldn’t mind giving the bastard a good swift kick myself._

“Tact is not one of my husband’s strong points,” declared Toni with a half-smile. “You’ll have to forgive him.”

“Actually, I don’t have to do anything of the kind,” retorted Benedict.  “I was going to get to it in my own good time.”

“Toni and I don’t have all day.  We’re not on vacation like you are.  We do have jobs to go back to.”

“I can see you’re not a believer in the fine art of conversation, which I find amusing coming from a man who makes his living with words,” sneered Benedict. "Albeit snarky ones," he added with a smug expression.

“Is _that_ what you call it?” chortled Neil in disbelief and choosing to ignore the younger man's barb. “Well, I call it the fine art of talking to hear yourself talk.  Your parents sent you to that posh public school, and you love nothing more than to throw around that big vocabulary of yours in order to impress people.”

Benedict felt himself bristle at the older man’s words.  “I do nothing of the sort.”

“Of course you do!” taunted Neil.  “You enjoy confusing people – especially when you use those archaic words or expressions.”

“I beg to differ, Neil. That’s just your opinion, which granted; you’re entitled to – asinine as it is.”

“Do you realize that if you eliminate all that excess verbiage you’re so fond of using, you could get your point across in half the time than you normally take – not to mention that my ears would greatly appreciate it.”

“Neil, you’ve made your point and no one cares.  Now, how about practicing a little patience, _please_ ,” pleaded Toni while elbowing Neil gently.  “Go ahead, Benedict.  The floor is yours.”

The server brought their drinks as Neil was about to open his mouth once again.  The tension hung in the air as the glasses were set down on the table along with a white-napkin-covered silver tray, containing what smelled like warm bread and a ramekin of butter sprinkled with coarse pink salt. Benedict smiled to himself when Toni also requested unsalted butter.

“What shall we drink to?” asked Toni in an effort to break the tension.

“Silence,” muttered Neil disgustedly.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to drink to Donna then.  The woman I love,” replied Benedict with a smile.

“To Donna,” said Neil and Toni simultaneously as they all clinked glasses.

“Mmmm…this is tasty and refreshing,” admitted Neil, putting down his drink.  “I’ll have to remember to order this the next time we come here.”

“This iced tea is delicious as well,” said Toni, smacking her lips. “The pear nectar is delicate, yet I find its sweetness complements the grassiness of the green tea nicely.  The tart, lemony flavor of the sorrel is an unexpected surprise.”

“Jesus Christ, Toni. You’re sounding more like Donna every day,” laughed Neil.

“You’re not the only one, Antonia. I catch myself doing the same thing whenever I eat or drink something,” Benedict said to Toni. 

“I suppose that comes from keeping company with a food critic,” Neil mused.  “It becomes second nature.”

The trio sat for a few minutes enjoying their drinks and making small talk until the food runner delivered their entrees, with the server right behind him.

“Here we are!  Seared Black Cod with baby spinach and artichokes in a lobster lemongrass broth,” she announced as the food runner placed the dish in front of Toni.  “For you, sir, the truffled gnocchi with fresh ricotta, foraged mushrooms and Parmesan,” she continued as Neil’s dish was placed before him.  “And for you, sir, the suckling pig confit with blood orange, grilled pak choi and XO sauce,” she said with finality as Benedict’s dish was set down before him.  “Enjoy everyone, and I’ll be back to check on your shortly.”

_Hopefully, you won’t come back until after I’ve had my chance to tell them of my plans,_ thought Benedict as he cut into the fork-tender pork _.  But I know better, she’ll be rushing back in the next couple of minutes to ask if everything has been properly prepared, and Donna’s mum will find something to bitch about.  I think it prudent to wait until we’re done eating._

Benedict held off on any further discussion until they had finished and the plates had been cleared off the table.  Their server had given them dessert menus with the promise that she’d be back ‘in a flash’.

_It’s time to get down to business, Benedict.  They’ve been patient, but they must be dying of curiosity…though deep down inside you know that they know why you’re here._

“I have a feeling you both have an idea as to why I invited you to lunch today,” began Benedict, rubbing the back of his neck.

Neil and Toni both exchanged looks and nodded affirmatively. 

“Is anyone interested in dessert?  Coffee?” asked the server, seemingly to appear out of nowhere.

_She wasn’t kidding when she said she’d be back in a flash,_ thought Benedict.

Toni picked up the menu and bit her lower lip as she studied the selections.

“Does anything jump out at you, Dear?”  She asked Neil.

“Yes, and you’re welcome to share.  I’m going to have the burnt orange chocolate crème brulee and coffee, please.” 

_Though I really, really would rather have a double scotch rather than the coffee._

“Hmmm…I’m not a huge fan of crème brulee. Benedict, could I interest you in sharing the duo of Mandarin Orange Bread Pudding with banana ice cream and the Hazelnut Praline Crunch with Chocolate Mousse?”

Benedict laughed.  “I’m a tart for sweets and an easy lay, so yeah.”

_And I knew as soon as those words left my mouth, that I shouldn’t have. That was a bit cheeky, Benedict. You’re in the company of your future in-laws, not your mates. Look at their startled faces. Even the server looks uncomfortable. I need to turn on the mouth filter.  
_

The server laughed nervously.  “Would you like any coffee or tea with that?” _  
_

Toni cleared her throat, “We’ll just be sharing the duo, and I’ll have coffee with skimmed milk.”

“Excellent choice.  I’ll bring an extra spoon…”

“And please bring an extra plate as well.”    

_Antonia’s just like Donna was when we began dating - afraid of picking up germs from me. My darling was a credit to her mother, bless her.  
_

“Can I get you coffee or tea, Sir?” the server asked Benedict.

_I’d actually fancy a double shot of whiskey, but I need to keep a clear head._

“Coffee for me as well, please,” said Benedict.

“I’ll be right back with your coffee and desserts.”

_I’m sure you will.  For fucks sake – I just want enough time alone with them to say what I have to say.  
_

Toni smiled at Benedict across the table. “By the way, no offense was meant by the extra plate, Benedict.  I just prefer not to eat from the same plate as someone else – family included.” _  
_

“Even me,” sighed Neil, rolling his eyes.

“It’s quite alright,” Benedict assured him. “Donna used to do the same to me.”

“Why does that not surprise me?” quipped Neil.

Toni flashed Benedict a look of surprise.  “Did you say used to?”

“Mmm…yeah.  Donna doesn’t do that any longer.  We freely share both food and drink,” replied Benedict with a smug grin.

“And germs, no doubt,” huffed Toni under her breath.

“However, that doesn’t apply if one of us is feeling off.  Common sense does has to prevail in such cases,” scoffed Benedict.

_What a relief it is to hear that Cumberbatch actually possesses a modicum of common sense,_ thought Neil.

“This has been a very enlightening lunch so far.  The food and service has been excellent,” declared Toni.  “I’m looking forward to the dessert.”

“And the conversation has been quite…invigorating…entertaining,” added Benedict uneasily.  _Fucking nerve wracking is what it’s been in reality._

“I’ll have to agree with entertaining.  I bet we’re the only table where the talk has covered the weather, Thanksgiving, our favorite restaurants; as well as spreading around germs and currency.  We must be the talk of the kitchen,” added Neil with a smirk.

_I should have known he would call me out on that sooner or later. I’d better apologize._

“Erm…um…please forgive my cheek, Antonia, Neil. I didn’t mean to make it sound as if I’ve been busy spreading my currency around because I’m not…I haven’t been…I’ve been exclusive…I’m not the wandering type.  I totally believe in monogamy… that.”

“Well, that’s a comfort to hear,” sneered Neil.  “Because that could be easily misinterpreted as you’ve been busy depositing your currency in various banks, which is not the sort of thing a father wants to hear from his daughter’s steady boyfriend.”

“I assure you that I’ve been… depositing my currency in one bank.”

“As long as you’re only making deposits in the Bank of Saint James.”

“It is for fucks sake!  I was only joking…it just popped out of my mouth! Christ on a crutch.”

“We realize you were just joking,” said Toni. “It’s alright, Benedict. Neil, stop baiting him, _please_.”

“Your PR woman really does have her work cut out for her, doesn’t she?” snickered Neil. “I’d love to interview you myself if only you didn’t talk so damn much.”

“I really don’t talk all _that_ much,” retorted Benedict.

“Of course you do!” laughed Neil.  “My ears ache after I’ve been in your company for more than fifteen minutes.”

“I don’t know how you’ve managed to survive this long then.”

“Your sarcasm isn’t lost on me, Ben.”

“Brilliant.  It wasn’t meant to be.”

“Shhhh!  Please stop the bickering, you two!” scolded Toni.  “The server’s coming back.  Let’s try and maintain a modicum of decorum here.”

_Just when I was enjoying myself_ , thought Neil. 

_The wanker isn’t quite finished having a go at me_ , thought Benedict.

Once the server had gone, Benedict again broached the reason he had asked them to lunch.

“As I was saying before, I have a feeling you both have an idea as to why I invited you to lunch today.”

“We do,” confirmed Neil.

“You and Donna have been seeing each other for almost a year and are in a committed relationship,” said Toni.  “It’s the logical progression for such a relationship.”

“Your intent is fairly obvious,” added Neil as he finished his drink.  “However, I’m not going to make this easy for you, Ben.  I want to hear you ask me.”

“Neil! _Please_ stop being difficult and let the man finish what he has to say to us.”

“Its fine, Antonia.  There’s no need to reprimand Neil for something he has every right to ask of me.  And just for the record, Neil, I wouldn’t think of doing this any other way,” smiled Benedict.  “I was brought up to believe that things are done in a certain manner – for example;  when a gentleman wishes to propose marriage to a man’s daughter, he needs to clearly state his intentions and ask the father properly.”

Benedict’s ice blue eyes met Neil’s hazel ones, and he held his gaze steady.  He noted they were the same colour as Donna’s.   He took a deep breath before speaking slowly and distinctly to the older man.

“It’s no secret that I’m in love with your daughter and she with me.  My fondest wish is for us to build a home together and fill it with love and children. By the end of our first date, I had a strong feeling that Donna was destined to become my partner in this venture called life. She is truly the love of my life.  I also invited you here today for the purpose of assuring both of you, in no uncertain terms, that I will do my utmost to ensure that Donna is properly taken care of.  I promise you that she will want for nothing, especially when it comes to love. Her happiness and well-being are paramount to me. Therefore, having said all that, it is my intent to ask Donna to marry me Friday night over dinner; and I’m hoping that you will give me your blessing and be happy for us.”

_I was wondering when he was going to come up for air, but he managed to put it well,_ thought Neil. 

Neil looked at his wife, who gave him a barely imperceptible nod as he took her hand in his.

“Now, that’s how it should be done, Toni; rather than telling the parents of the bride-to-be after the fact.” 

_Well done me – so far.  That was definitely a dig at Steve for the way he proposed to Carly.  
_

“Ben, has Donna told you how Steve proposed to Carly?” Neil asked.

“Erm…no; but Steve told me the story during the flight over yesterday.”

_And I’m willing to bet my son-in-law advised you to do the same_ , thought Neil, as he ever-so-slightly leaned against Toni’s arm. _I am glad to see that Cumberbatch is a stickler for tradition._

“Neil and I were deeply offended and our feelings terribly hurt when we found out that Steven purposely chose not to let us in on his plans to propose to Carly,” explained Toni sadly.  “We feel as if we missed out on something special.”

“Truth be told, we felt like an afterthought,” added Neil.  “Even though we do realize that many men prefer to propose first, and then share the news with their families and friends.”

“It’s just not the way our families do it,” clarified Toni.  “My brothers informed my parents of their intentions to marry, and Neil came out to the house to ask my Dad for my hand.”

“It would seem we do have something in common after all, Neil,” snickered Benedict. “We’re both old souls at heart.”

“And there’s nothing wrong with that,” smiled Toni. “I like the tradition.”

“Do you think Steve was wrong to handle it the way he did?” inquired Neil.

“I think it’s none of my business,” said Benedict curtly.  “Steve did what suited him, and I did what suited me, as you have just witnessed.”

Neil smiled thinly at Benedict, who suddenly felt as if he were sitting on pins and needles.

_This has gone much too smoothly. Here it comes.  Now seems like the right time for him to lace into me.  They like to strike when one least expects it.  I’m ready.  I won’t let him try and cut me down.  I will stand up for myself._

“I appreciate that you have shown us consideration and respect, Ben, by sharing your plans with us, albeit at the last possible minute,” began Neil. “While we haven’t been on the best of terms, the one thing I do know for certain is that you do love our daughter deeply, and I do believe you when you say that you want nothing but the best for her.”

_For fucks sake! Could it be that he’s not going to throw any more digs at me?_

“However…”

_I should have known he was going to find something negative to say. The motherfucker certainly doesn’t disappoint._

“…you have chosen to follow a notoriously unreliable profession on your career path. Acting doesn’t offer a steady stream of income that one needs in order to support a family.”

_And there. He said it. Somehow in the back of my mind I knew he would._

“You have nothing to worry about, Neil.  You know I have some savings in the bank, and few debts thanks to Antonia’s thorough investigation of my finances,” said Benedict, pausing to momentarily glare at Toni.

“Feel free to glare all you want, Benedict,” said Toni with indifference.  “I have investigated each one of my daughters’ serious suitors and am not in the least bit ashamed of it.”

“I realize that neither of you are over the moon with my being an actor.  I also agree, from what Donna’s told me, that you had cause to be wary based on the two dolts she dated.  However, I’m different.  I’m a _working_ actor.  I promise you that as my wife, Donna will always have a roof over her head, clothes on her back and food on her table.  I own an extremely nice flat in Hampstead, which is a fucking lovely area, as you both bloody well know.”

“Neil was referring to the fact that Donna is accustomed to a certain standard of living – one that you may not be able to provide her with…unless you are going to depend upon her salary to make up for your current gross shortfall.”

Benedict leaned forward and narrowed his eyes.  “I’m well aware that Donna currently out earns me; but this conversation has nothing to do with _her_ salary.  We are discussing _mine_ , which for the record is none of your fucking business,” he snarled in a low voice. “I’m indulging you out of kindness, which I probably shouldn’t even do.  I’m sat here trying my utmost to reassure you both that should your daughter choose to stay at home once we have children that I _will_ be able to properly support a family.”

“Donna will never give up her career,” declared Toni.  “She loves what she does.”

“I’m afraid I tend to agree with my wife on that issue; but it remains to be seen,” said Neil.

“Donna is used to having nice things,” continued Toni.

“I believe I did say that Donna will want for nothing, and I meant it! I’ve been working almost non-stop since the day I graduated from LAMDA,” pointed out Benedict. “You make it sound as if Donna is spoilt.  I don’t find her to be that way in the slightest.  She has a budget and sticks to it.”

Toni gently touched Neil’s sleeve.

“That’s because we raised our children to be conservative when it comes to their spending habits.  Not one of them has proven to be frivolous, and we are very proud of that.”

“Donna is a credit to you both then.”

“You’ll have to forgive me if I worry, Ben.  I just want our daughter to have a comfortable life.”

“Out of curiosity, does the time you put in at Penhaligon’s and the Chocolate Tart count in that block of non-stop work you’re referring to?” asked Toni.

“For fucks sake!  Of course it does – I had to do something to pay the bills whilst I was in between acting jobs.  I couldn’t just sit around on my laurels and wait for my agent to call.  I had to be proactive or starve. I could also swear we already discussed this a while ago.  My response still hasn’t changed, as I’m sure you have realized.”

Toni nodded as if satisfied with his response.  Neil was gazing out the window, giving the appearance that he was not paying attention; but Benedict knew better.

"There's an awful lot of actors out of work at any given moment," Neil said evenly.  "It's one of the most competitive and difficult fields to succeed in."

“Only ten percent of actors in London are working at their chosen craft. I’m very fortunate to count myself among that ten percent of working actors out there.”

_At least he didn’t say it was an embarrassment of riches_ , thought Neil with relief.

“It’s an embarrassment of riches that I’ve been offered such challenging major roles this year.  The leads in both _Sherlock_ and _After the Dance_ are extraordinary opportunities for me to spread my wings and exhibit my acting chops.”

“However, you have nothing to fall back on, should this embarrassment of riches suddenly dry up,” scoffed Neil. “I suppose you could always ask the folks at Penhaligon’s for your old job back.”

“I have a degree in Drama from Manchester and a Master’s in Classical Drama from LAMDA, as I’m sure you already know,” Benedict stated proudly.

“Yes, and you can wallpaper your bathroom with them for what they’re worth,” snapped Neil.  “Dabbling in drama is fine as long as you have something else to fall back on.  You should have stuck with law.”

“I don’t _dabble_ in acting, Neil," spat Benedict, venom in his voice. "I make my living from it.  If you were to review my tax returns, which I’m bloody well sure you did, you already know damn fucking well that I actually make a _respectable_ one.  So sorry to disappoint you, but I found that I just didn’t want to be a lawyer – no offense to you, Antonia, as the law is certainly a fine and noble profession.  I realized that I fancied acting, so switched over to drama and have _never_ once regretted my decision.  I have always been about building a career of longevity.”

“Neil did bring up a valid concern, Benedict.  What is your backup plan, should these riches suddenly evaporate?  What if – and this is purely for argument’s sake – Donna were pregnant and on bed rest and couldn’t work?”

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck and bit his lower lip. _I'm finding it quite the challenge to mind my temper the longer this goes on. I need to take a deep breath and calm myself._

“I’m not joking when I say that I’ve been working almost non-stop since my graduation.   I’ve got a ridiculously brilliant agent named John Grant, who is with one of the best talent agencies in London – Conway van Gelder Grant, which you both probably already know.  John is constantly bringing me consistently challenging and intriguing projects. Karon Maskill, who has been doing my PR for years, has been working her arse off to ensure that I’m being seen at the right events and that I’m projecting a positive public image…well the later is a work in progress,” he chuckled.

Neil and Toni regarded Benedict with raised eyebrows and questioning looks.

“No one is questioning the capabilities of your management team, Ben,” said Toni.  “It’s obvious they’ve been doing a decent job for you, but sometimes even the best agents have a tough time lining up a steady stream of work for their clients – no matter how talented or famous -  for one reason or another.”

“You _still_ haven’t told us what your backup plan is,” Neil reminded him, irritation in his voice. “So far you’ve regurgitated your credentials and told us about your team.”

Benedict reached into his pocket and extracted his smart phone.  He scrolled to his calendar before answering Neil.

_Brilliant! Emmy’s been updating my calendar, bless her._

“In the interim, I take advantage of whatever radio and voice over work I can get in order to keep money coming in. Last week I did an audio book reading of _The Little Red Hen_. This past Monday and Tuesday, I played Dudley Moore in a BBC4 Radio Program called _Good Evening_.  The week I return to London, I’ll be narrating a six-part documentary called _South Pacific_. Once that’s over, I’ll continue my recurring role as Rumpole of the Bailey in the BBC4 Radio Series; followed by small supporting roles in two films:  _Four Lions_ and _The Whistleblower_.  I also have another recurring role as Captain Martin Crief in another BBC4 Radio Series called _Cabin Pressure_ , but that doesn’t resume recording until next year. I also pick up the odd avert here and there. I just did one for Pimms over the summer. Anyway, as you just heard the month of December is pretty much filled, and thanks to these jobs, there will be gifts under my Christmas tree. So, you could say that the bane of my backup plan is to use my voice.  I hope that satisfies your curiosity, and now I hope we can put the question of whether or not I’m capable of making a living by acting to rest once and for all.”

“Thank you.  It does,” said Neil sincerely.  “I’m pleased that you’re so industrious.”

“I’m glad _something_ I do pleases you,” snorted Benedict. 

“There’s never been any question in our minds as to whether or not you truly love our daughter, Ben. We’re pleased to see her so happy in a relationship,” declared Neil.  “You’ve illustrated to Toni and I that your intentions are commendable ones and that you do have Donna’s best interest at heart.  You have my blessing, Ben.”

“And we’re both very excited and happy for you both,” added Toni. “We’re sorry if we gave you a hard time.”

“Speak for yourself, Darling Dear. I’m not sorry at all,” retorted Neil. 

“I didn’t think you were,” remarked Benedict sarcastically.  _And I also fear there’s more to come._

“Oh, that wasn’t so bad now, was it?” snickered Neil.

“You’re a right difficult bastard to deal with,” laughed Benedict.

“I did my best to intimidate you, and you did an admirable job of standing up for yourself.”

“Thank you, I think,” laughed Benedict.  “I’ll take that as a compliment as I’m exhausted from this inquisition of sorts.”

“Oh, it definitely was a compliment,” Toni assured him.

“I’m chuffed we were able to sort it all out,” said Benedict with relief.

“As are Toni and I.  You know, there’s hope for you yet, Ben,” smiled Neil, offering his hand to Benedict.

“And you as well,” retorted Benedict with his best professional smile.

The two men shook hands as the server brought their coffee, each satisfied with the way things had gone for the time being and wondering what was still in store for them.

“Erm…would you excuse me for a minute…I’m in need of the loo,” said Benedict, getting to his feet and heading out to the lobby.

“So, who do you think he’s going to call?” Toni wondered aloud to her husband.

“His accomplice, of course,” replied Neil, adding some cream to his coffee.

“Steve.”

Neil nodded as he sipped his coffee.  “Cumberbatch looked as if he were going to completely lose his temper a couple of times.  Although I think he handled himself pretty well, all things considered.”

“He needs to blow off some steam. We were pretty tough on him,” observed Toni.  “We need to lighten up a little bit, don’t you agree?”

“No.”

“Neil.  Please.  He’s going to be your son-in-law.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“Donna could have done much worse, and you damn well know it.  Benedict’s heart is in the right place, he’s demonstrated that he’s responsible and he’s been fairly respectful.  Most importantly – you got what you wanted.  He asked you for Donna’s hand.”

“He didn’t _ask_ me exactly.  He more or less _told_ me and asked for my blessing.”

“And that’s as good as you were going to get, Darling Dear, so you need to accept it and move on.  Benedict was _never_ going to _ask_ for your permission to marry Donna.  You’re not dealing with a naive high school or college-age suitor.  You’re dealing with a mature man in his thirties, who knows exactly what he wants and where he’s going in life.”

“I just wish he didn’t want Donna to ride shot gun with him.”

“Donna clearly wants to be with him, Neil.  She’s in love with him.  We need to support her and be there for her if things get rough.”

“You’re probably right.”

“At least he had the decency to include us, unlike Steve.”

“I wonder what he’s done about buying a ring. We don’t want to forget to ask him about that.”

“Don’t worry.  I’ve been waiting for the right moment to bring it up, which will be as soon as he gets back from telling Steve his tales of woe.”

 

*********************************************************************************************************************************

 

Benedict finished washing his hands and dried them on one of the white rolled up towels displayed in a large wicker basket on the vanity of the mens’ room.   He pulled out his mobile to check if he had reception and was pleased to see that he did.  He punched in Steve’s number and waited.

“Steven Cipriano.”

“I hate to do this to you; but I’m in dire need of an ear; so I can have a rant,” began Benedict.  

_“Rant away. I was wondering when I was going to hear from you. Is it over or are you hiding out in the men’s’ room.”_

“The later, you prick.  I needed a break from them desperately before I decked the smug, son of a bitch and his cunning cunt of a sidekick!  I feel like my head’s going to explode, and we haven’t even had the fucking pudding yet!”

_“Neil and Toni do have that effect on people,”_ snickered Steve.

“I knew it wasn’t going to go off without _any_ hiccups; but Jesus fucking Christ – I had no idea they were going to harp on my career choice once again!”

_“Ben, they will continue to harp on your career choice until the day comes when you receive a acting award or Oscar nomination.”_

“That would be lovely; but that’s not happening any time soon. They wanted – no demanded -  to know how I was going to support Donna so she would have the lifestyle she’s accustomed to!  Bloody hell!”

_“Donna can support herself just fine; and if she chooses to stop working and live on what you bring home, I’m sure she’ll manage just fine.  She wants you, not your money.”_

“Yeah, what little there is of it,” snorted Benedict.  “However, my finances have been steadily improving. Things will be much easier once the money from _Sherlock_ starts coming in.  I’d love to wave the pay cheque stub in their faces!”

_“You won’t have to do that, Ben. Toni will run a financial report and credit check so she can keep tabs on your earnings and spending.”_

“Of course the cow will!”

_"You have two choices:  You can let it continue to eat at you or you can simply think of it as having a personal Business Manager. Personally, I prefer the later.”_

“I don’t know how you manage to tolerate them! They are just unrelenting!  One stops and the other starts!  They have their fucking act down to a science!  They could have a successful career on stage!”

_“Their own children don’t refer to them as the Neil and Toni Show for nothing.”_

“Now, I completely understand why you didn’t ask Neil for Carly’s hand.  I get it now in ways that I never fathom I would!  Holy motherfucking shit!”

_“You never should have asked…”_

“Oh, but I didn’t come out and ask for Donna’s hand or permission,” interrupted Benedict.  “The more I thought about it, the more I decided that was opening up a can of worms for even more torture than what they’ve put me through already.”

_“I’m dying here, Ben.  What did you do?”  
_

“I told them of my intentions and simply asked for their blessing.”

_“That’s kind of like asking for permission.”_

“No.  It’s a bit different.  I told them what I’m going to do and asked for them to be happy for us.”

_“Ah.  I see what you mean. What was his reaction?”_

“To be honest, that part of it went fine.  They appreciated that I told them because it made them feel included.  By the way, they both still hold it against you about your method of proposing.  Their feelings were hurt.”

_“I have no doubt.  They will forever hold that particular grudge, and I don’t give a damn. Did you manage to remain humble and respectful?”  
_

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck.  “Erm…yeah…for the most part, I'd say.  I didn’t embarrass myself certainly, although I almost lost it a couple of times.  I made it clear I wasn't taking any of their shit, and I think they respected that I had the bollocks to stand up to them.  Yeah.  I’d say all-in-all, I made a concerted effort to mind my temper…”

_“Phew!  That’s good to hear! I was a little worried after our talk yesterday because I realized that dispensing advice is a lot like dispensing medicine for me – It's easy to give to my patients, but difficult for me to take when one.”_

“Now you tell me, you wanker!” _  
_

_“That also applies to myself when in the position of receiving said advice. There have been many times when I’ve gone in with both guns blazing, only to back off for Carly’s sake.  Then there have been times when my temper won out, and I’ve gone off on them like July fourth fireworks.  They are not easy to deal with, Ben.”  
_

“…erm…I did pass a couple of snarky comments, which I regretted as soon as I uttered them.  One might deem them to be a tad off colour in mixed company...or in the company of future in-laws.  You know me and my consistently malfunctioning mouth filter.”

_“Your reputation precedes you. Jesus. I can’t even imagine their reaction to something like that.”_

“Erm…Neil actually rose to the occasion for the first one and rightfully dressed me down.  As to the second…well…yeah…it wasn’t the cleverest thing I’ve ever said; but it’s all fine now.  I apologized for my impertinence like the good public school boy that I am afterwards.  I’ve been forgiven.”

_“That’s what you think, my friend.  Whatever went down has been catalogued and filed away for future reference.”_

“Brilliant.”

_“What happened with the ring?  What was their reaction when you showed it to them? OH, I bet they were speechless!  I can just see their faces!  Did you find an excuse to get a photo?”_

“I haven’t broached the subject of the ring yet.  I’ve been saving the reveal for act two, which I feel is about to start upon my return.  So, if you’ll excuse me, Doctor; I’ve got a pricey three and a half carat, flawless diamond engagement ring in my pocket that I’m drying to shove in their fucking faces,” declared Benedict with glee.  “I’ll ring you when it’s finally over.”

_“I won’t keep you then.  Good luck!”_

“I’ll also do my utmost to get a photo to show you and Carly later.  Cheers.”

Benedict Cumberbatch strolled out of the men’s room and across the lobby to the entrance of Asiate.  He paused briefly to turn the camera feature on his mobile on and made sure to turn off the flash so he could be as discrete as possible. Then he entered the restaurant and approached the booth feeling very confident and pleased with himself as he patted his inside jacket pocket.

_Ah, the curtain rises on Act Two:  The ring._

 

 

_ _

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Well, Part 1 of The Lunch is over with. It was never intended to go smoothly; but I also wanted to show that Benedict and Donna's parents sort of come to an uneasy truce.
> 
> 2\. The Great Game episode of Sherlock Season 1 was actually filmed first as BBC had requested that the pilot, A Study in Pink, be reworked/rewritten and expanded for Season 1. Because of this, the episodes were filmed in reverse order. 
> 
> 3\. The High Line is a public park built on a historic freight rail line elevated above the streets on Manhattan’s West Side. It runs from Gansevoort Street in the Meatpacking District to West 34th Street, between 10th and 12th Avenues. There is an entrance outside of Chelsea Market, which Benedict used for his morning run. 
> 
> 4\. The 35th Floor Lobby Lounge in the Mandarin Oriental is a lovely spot to relax and enjoy their afternoon tea or a drink and light meal/snack. The view over Central Park and Manhattan is gorgeous. I've been there several times and always enjoy the atmosphere, food and drink immensely. The Make It Sappy is a very delicious drink, which I highly recommend as well as their holiday Nutcracker Tea. 
> 
> 5\. The Mandarin Oriental does have one of the smallest hotel gift shops I've ever seen. They do have a very nice, large Ladies Room; however, right next to it. 
> 
> 6\. I've peeked inside of Asiate, but have never eaten a meal there. The dining room is beautiful and the views are spectacular. 
> 
> 7\. I highly recommend the walnut raisin scones at the Hot n' Crusty Bakery location in Penn Station in NYC. They are the best I've ever had. I must get one every time I'm there. :-)
> 
> 8\. I always appreciated the fact that I never had my water glasses over-loaded with ice when in London - at least in the restaurants I went to. I've always felt here in the US we're "ice happy" - our glasses are always packed with ice and little beverage. That's my personal opinion. I also noticed the lack of free bread baskets in a majority of the restaurants I dined in while visiting London. I found by not having it there, it allowed us to enjoy our entrees without having filled up on bread just because it was there.
> 
> 9\. Chapter 123 will be posted on Sunday, April 3rd, as I'll be away.
> 
> 10\. Happy Easter and Passover to all who celebrate!


	123. Chapter 123

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of Lunch at Asiate. Benedict treats Neil and Toni to a sneak peek at Donna’s ring and attempts to mend the fences with them. Toni makes some new plans. 
> 
> Note: I’ll be using ************* to indicate things happening at the same time.

 

Benedict Cumberbatch returned to the booth to find Neil and Toni discussing the view outside their window.

“Sorry for taking so long.  When nature calls, one must answer,” he quipped, sliding back into his seat. 

_I have no doubt that you were nature and my son-in-law was the one who answered your call,_ thought Neil with amusement. 

“It is quite a lovely view of the West Side yes?”

“Toni and I were just saying that there’s so much building going on that maybe we ought to consider selling our brownstone and moving into one of these new West Side high rises.”

“I’ve seen some of the floor plans online, and they are absolutely spectacular!” gushed Toni.  “Not to mention the ones on the upper floors that have views of the Hudson River.”

“One of the drawbacks would be giving up our access to Gramercy Park, which we love,” said Neil. “Also, the neighborhood is fairly quiet and peaceful for New York City.”

“I would never sacrifice my privacy to live in a mansion block,” declared Benedict.  “There is nothing better than having a whole house to oneself.”

“You don’t own the whole house though,” observed Toni.

“True.  I own the second floor flat which comes with a loft and lovely little roof terrace.  The bloke who owns the flat downstairs works nights, so we’re on opposite schedules a majority of the time.  It feels as if I’m the only one living there.”

_And this would be my opening to ask Cumberbatch what his intentions are concerning living arrangements once he and Donna marry,_ thought Neil.

“How many bedrooms do you have?” asked Neil innocently.

_Ugh!  This is getting fucking tedious.  He already knows that.  Toni must have procured a layout of my flat.  I’ll just humour him, though I suspect this line of questioning is going to lead somewhere._

“Two,” replied Benedict, pouring cream into his coffee.  He noticed that his first cup had been replaced with this much hotter one whilst he was in the loo.  “I use the second one primarily as a large wardrobe.”

“Do you intend to continue living there with Donna once you’re married?”

“Erm…well, I was hoping that she’d move in with me full time once we are officially engaged; but she told me she recently arranged to sublease her flat for another year.”

“I’m talking about the future,” clarified Neil.  “Where do you plan to raise a family in that small apartment?  Don’t you think that will be rather cramped?  What if you have more than one child?”

“I think that’s something for Donna and me to worry about,” replied Benedict curtly.  “My flat is obviously too small for more than one child; so we’ll have to see what the future brings and sort it out based on our financial circumstances at the time.”

_In other words, it depends on whether he’ll have the funds to move to larger quarters_ , thought Neil.  _That makes perfect sense._

“We’d love to hear what your plans are for Friday,” said Toni sweetly, sipping her coffee.

“We’re curious as to how much of the day your plans will take up,” clarified Neil.  “Do you intend to spend the entire day and evening with Donna?”

_Hmmm…I suspect they may have had plans for a portion of the day. Steve and Tertius were both right. I sincerely hope they aren’t going to be too angry with me._

“Well…erm…I’ve got quite a busy day planned for her. I’m stopping at the florist this afternoon to arrange for flowers to be ready for me to pick up first thing tomorrow morning.  Then I’m going to show up on Donna’s doorstep with the flowers and take her out for breakfast at Norma’s…”

_Damn.  That’s always been our birthday tradition, to take the girls to Norma’s for their birthday breakfast,_ thought Toni. _Steve has his interview tomorrow, so Neil and I thought we’d treat the girls to a nice day out and then he’d catch up with us afterwards._

_Toni and I took the day off to spend with our daughters,_ thought Neil. _And now Cumberbatch swans in at the last minute to change up everything._   _It looks as if we’re going to have to compromise and make some adjustments._ _We’ll take Carly out to breakfast at Sarabeth’s instead.  I’m sure she won’t mind considering her sister will be getting engaged._

“… after which I’m hoping to return to my friend’s flat to gather my things to bring back to Donna’s.”

_Thank God!  At least lunch won’t be ruined,_ thought Toni.  _We’ll carry on with our plans while he’s busy doing that.  His friend lives in Chelsea, so that will buy us some time._

“I’m looking forward to Donna meeting Tertius, so we’ll probably get a coffee so they can get acquainted…”

_Damn. He wants to introduce her to his friend,_ thought Toni with mounting disappointment.

“…then we’ll take a cab to Donna’s flat, so that shouldn’t take too long. I thought we could walk on Fifth Avenue so Donna could show me some of the Christmas decorations and end up here.  The Lobby Lounge is having an afternoon Nutcracker Tea, which is part of a promotion for those of us with tickets to the ballet.”

Toni sighed and poked Neil slightly in the ribs.  _Crap! We bought the girls tickets to the Nutcracker for Monday night!  I’d ask Pa, but he hates the ballet.  Maybe Scarlett or Kenny would want to take Donna’s place._

_There goes the lunch plans for MoMA and lunch in the Modern Dining Room!_ Thought Neil.  _Donna would have loved the special exhibits.  
_

_I booked a fucking window table at the Modern Dining Room for us, too!_ Thought Toni with disgust _. MoMA’s gift shop is one of Donna’s favorite places to browse.  Sounds like frozen hot chocolate at Serendipity and nachos are also off the list for her._

_Steve should be done with his interview by then, so it will just be the four of us for lunch.  I’ll remind Toni to call the Modern and change the reservation from five to four…unless Pa wants to meet us for lunch but I recall something about taking Mrs. Baum to the movies.  
_

“By planning so early and with Steve’s help, I was able to book the most marvelous seats for the Nutcracker for tomorrow night – center seats in the first row of the first ring in the stalls.”

_I must remember to thank Steve for his contribution to this fiasco,_ thought Neil.  _He was Cumberbatches’ accomplice and didn’t think to inform us so we could change our plans.  I suppose that was the idea. He must be patting himself on the back._

_Hmmm…I wonder if Pa would like to invite Mrs. Baum to go in Donna’s place to see Memphis,_ thought Toni _.  It would be a shame to let a prime center orchestra seat go to waste._

“The crown jewel of the evening will be the special eight-course tasting dinner at Restaurant Daniel, complete with wine pairings.  I have a booking to dine in their private Sky Box,” Benedict said with a smug smile.

“My goodness, Benedict!  You’re trying to cram in an awful lot into one day!” exclaimed Toni in frustration.

“Did you set aside time for the actual proposal or are you doing it on the fly?” smirked Neil.

“I plan on asking Donna to marry me when the pudding is served.  I’m meeting with the Maître D later on today to work out the details.  I’m sure she’ll be surprised.”

“We sure as hell were,” scoffed Neil.  “To say the very least.”

“Donna will absolutely love eating in the Sky Box,” said Toni, trying her best to hide her annoyance.  “It’s the perfect setting for a restaurant critic – overlooking the kitchen.”

Benedict noticed that Neil and Toni exchanged glances.  Toni looked a bit crestfallen as Neil patted her hand. A pang of guilt washed over him as he looked at their faces.

_Shit.  They had plans, and I came along and cocked them up. I should have thought to include them...I could have shared my plans with them.  They never would have divulged them to Donna.  They would have been chuffed to be in on things from the start._ _I was being a self-centered prick._

“Well, that’s quite an impressive plan,” commented Neil, running his index finger around the rim of his coffee cup. “Sounds like you have the _whole_ day filled – without a minute to spare.”

“The Nutcracker is Donna’s favorite holiday activity and Daniel is one of the finest restaurants in the city,” declared Toni. “How did you manage to reserve the coveted Sky Box table?  People wait months to get in.”

“I’m more interested in how he’s going to pay for it, Toni. You do realize it’s a prix fixe of sixteen hundred dollars?”

“That’s for the maximum of four people.  Being it’s just the two of us, it will be eight hundred, in addition to drinks and gratuities.  In answer to your question, Antonia, I was able to secure the booking as the result of meticulous advance planning and some help from Steve, who enlisted your brother, Angelo, to help with the booking,” replied Benedict. 

_And once again, I hear the name Steve.  My son-in-law is quite the little planner_ , thought Neil.   _I bet he thought Cumberbatch was keeping us abreast of his plans. That would explain a lot._

_So, my brother was also in on this!  And he never said a word to me when we spoke just yesterday!  I'll have to assume Benedict asked him not to say anything for fear of the details getting back to Donna. Hmmm...that isn’t like Steve not to fill us in,_ thought Toni.  _I’m wondering if he wrongly assumed Benedict had told us.  That would make sense.  
_

“Erm…I hope I didn’t ruin any plans you may have had…” ventured Benedict, rubbing the back of his neck.  He noted that Toni’s eyes had darkened considerably.

_Fuck me.  She’s going to dress me down now.  I suppose I deserve it._

_Thank you, Benedict.  Just the opening I was waiting for_ , thought Toni angrily.

“Being you brought it up, Benedict, yes.  Yes, we did have plans to spend the day with our daughters tomorrow.  Steve has his interview, so Neil and I both took the day off.  We had planned on taking the girls to Norma’s for breakfast, followed by a massage, manicure and pedicure…”

“I’m sitting that one out,” chimed in Neil. “My job was to run downtown and pick up their birthday cake while they were busy at the salon.”

“Then we had lunch reservations at the Museum of Modern Art’s fine dining restaurant, followed by checking out the new exhibits.  We were hoping Steve would be catching up with us by that time, so the plan was to stop in at Serendipity for a frozen hot chocolate…”

_And the fucking nachos.  I remember Donna telling me about that.  I guess that indulgence isn't just reserved for Mother’s Day. Blimey!_

“…which we normally do on Mother’s Day; but being the girls missed it this year we decided to do it tomorrow.  That was their specific request.”

“We’ll just make some adjustments…” began Neil in an attempt to soothe his wife's ruffled feathers.

“I’m not done yet, Neil!” snapped Toni, glaring at him.  “I bought tickets for the Nutcracker and Neil arranged for tickets to see _Memphis_ , which opened in April to rave reviews…”

“I bet none of those reviews were from him though,” snorted Benedict.

“And you’d be wrong,” retorted Neil.  “I actually found very little wrong with it.”

“Neil is friends with the Producer and was able to get us House Seats, which I’m sure you know are the very best in the theatre,” continued Toni.

“And I also know they’re free,” snickered Benedict.

“We have dinner reservations at Bouley, followed by birthday cake and coffee back at our house,” finished Toni.  “The whole family was coming along:  Colin, my parents, our son, Kenny, and his family.”

“I also have a dinner booking for Bouley for Sunday night,” said Benedict.  “Since Donna wasn’t going to be able to celebrate with Carly, I thought…”

“Well, they were going to until you showed up out of the blue,” pointed out Neil.  “Did you even once consider the fact that Toni and I may have made plans with our daughters – or that our daughters went ahead and made their own plans?”

“Erm…Steve suggested…”

“I really don’t want to hear that name again,” said Neil.  “He’s only given you bad advice as far as I can see.”

“What I don’t understand is why Steve didn’t say anything to us?” chimed in Toni.  “He knew about your plans and about ours.”

“Bloody hell! If you’d only allow me to finish my sentence for fucks sake!  I was going to say that Steve and I want the dinner at Bouley to be a family celebration of Donna and Carly’s birthday; so you both are included as is Colin and your parents, Antonia.  Steve ordered a special birthday cake made up for them. It will be our treat.”

Toni brightened considerably at Benedict’s words.  “Now, that sounds more like Steve.  That’s very thoughtful of you both.”

“I’m really terribly sorry for not giving you proper notice and ruining some of your traditions.  I kept intending to do a Skype call with you both but could never get the time difference right…I also felt that this was something I wanted to discuss in person and not via a computer screen.”

“I’d rather you did it in person as well,” admitted Neil reluctantly.  “It gave us an opportunity to have a mature discussion.”

“Is that what it was?” retorted Benedict.  “It felt more like a verbal flogging coupled with the inquisition.”

“And you came through it beautifully,” said Toni.

"I'd give you three stars," quipped Neil with a smirk.

“You'll find that Neil and I are not ones to hold a grudge, Benedict."

Neil blinked in surprise. "We're not?"

"No.  Today we're not.  What's done is done, so we’ll just proceed with our plans with Carly.”

_I admire Antonia for soldiering on with her plans...except I can't have them all showing up at Norma's._

“I know this may be a lot to ask, but…erm…might you be able to change your breakfast venue?  If we go to the same restaurant, I’m sure Donna will insist on us all sitting together and well…you know how it is.”  Benedict crinkled his nose and aimed his smile at Toni.

_I should make Cumberbatch squirm some more, but I’ve done enough already,_ thought Neil.  _He realizes that it wasn’t the best idea to keep something like this from us. I’m sure Donna would want to be alone with him, but she would feel guilty if we were all to show up at Norma’s.  
_

_My future son-in-law thinks I’m impervious to his charms_ , thought Toni with amusement. _Donna may fall for that nose crinkle and smile; but I see it for what it is. He wants to be alone with Donna, and I can understand that.  He also knows Donna will insist on us all eating together, which is the last thing he wants._

Neil turned to his wife. “We’ll take Carly to Sarabeth’s or Alice’s Teacup for breakfast.”

“I think Sarabeth’s.  It’s nearer to the spa,” said Toni. “I’ll see if Scarlett is interested in taking Donna’s slot.  I know she had an office day planned.”

“We can’t change the Bouley reservation. They have a hefty cancellation charge of five hundred, which I’m not paying,” said Neil.

“I adore the food at Bouley.  So no problem with me eating there twice,” laughed Toni. “It will give me a chance to try more things on their menu.”

“I’m sure Pa will be able to talk Mrs. Baum into joining us for dinner and the show in Donna’s place,” added Neil.

“Sounds as if you were able to sort things out then,” commented Benedict.  “Lucky for me,” he laughed nervously.

Toni looked at him over the rim of her coffee cup.  “Yes, lucky for you, indeed, Benedict.”

“Tomorrow will be one of the most important days in Donna’s life, and we want to see her have a perfect one as much as you do,” said Neil.

“I certainly hope so,” sighed Benedict.  “It won’t be for lack of trying if it doesn’t turn out that way.”

“I’m sure it will,” smiled Toni reassuringly. “You sound as if you have everything all precisely planned out.”

“And I will request that you please don’t be angry with Steve.  He was under the incorrect assumption that I had told you both what my plans were.”

Toni and Neil both nodded and exchanged satisfied glances.

Benedict cleared his throat and held both of Donna’s parents in his gaze.

“There’s something that I’d like to say to both of you.”

“Go ahead,” said Neil. 

“I realize I’m not the sort of man you envisioned and hoped Donna would wind up with," began Benedict sincerely.  “However, I’m not going to apologize for my profession or for any real or imagined shortcomings that you believe me to possess.  I’ve already stated that my goal is to take the best care of Donna that I possibly can.  Her happiness is paramount to me as it is to you both.  Now, with all that said, it’s also terribly important to me that we all get along.  I’ve seen what it’s like for friends of mine who’ve gotten married and do not get along with their in-laws.  The stress and strain it can put on a marriage and subsequent family is terrifying.  Christ, my Dad’s mum wasn’t too keen on my mum  - if you could believe that!”

_Oh, I can believe that,_ thought Neil.  _Tim came from a posh family and Wanda didn’t.  I can see conflict right there.  Also, Wanda’s a force to be reckoned with. She takes shit from no one, which I admire in her.  
_

_I can see there was probably a problem with Wanda still being married when she took up with Tim. Then after she divorced, she became pregnant with Benedict,_ thought Toni.  _Back then that would have been a big deal to be pregnant and unmarried._

“I don’t wish for a relationship such as those between us.  We need to sort out our differences and work on developing a harmonious relationship – I could never stand being at constant odds with either or both of you.  I’m not only marrying your daughter, but into your family as well.  I want very much to feel accepted …and hopefully, even liked one day.”

“I do understand what you mean,” said Neil pensively.  “Toni and I don’t want that either to be honest, Ben; but there is going to have to be give and take on both sides in order to make things work as you pointed out.  Showing up without notice and shaking up our plans was inconsiderate and rude of you - even though I understand your motivation and actually preferred the face-to-face approach.  And since we're clearing the air, you also have displayed an arrogant and condescending side, which I’m not especially fond of.”

“So much for finding something to like,” quipped Benedict. “Well done me.”

“That’s what I mean – that smug air!  In spite of that, you have displayed a fair amount of talent. You’re industrious with a good, solid work ethic and have a commendable set of morals.  Most importantly – you are devoted to Donna.  I don’t hate you, Ben.  True, I’m not thrilled that you’re an actor by any means; but in the end it’s up to Donna and what makes her happy.”

“I agree with everything Neil has said; but I think part of the problem lies with us.  I think we’re prejudiced against having an actor as a son-in-law because Donna brought home two losers,” added Toni.

“One was looking for Donna to solely support him, while he sat on his ass and waited for his agent to call,” said Neil. 

“I don’t _ever_ recall his agent calling, do you, Dear?”

“No.  I just remember Donna constantly shelling out money – helping him to pay his rent and the like.  Jonathan was as pompous and as arrogant as they come,” spat Neil. “He treated her as his golden ticket.”

“Michael, was very sweet; but he was a God-awful actor,” laughed Toni. “We actually offered to pay for his acting lessons in order to help him out.”

“That was more than generous of you. I hope they paid off,” said Benedict.

“He’s a regular in a soap opera that’s filmed here,” said Neil. “You’ll have to forgive us, Ben; but Toni and I haven’t had good experiences when it came to Donna falling for actors.  I’m hoping you will change our minds one day.”

“We’re not expecting to have smooth sailing one hundred percent of the time, but I do think we can manage to forge an amiable relationship between us, as we did with Steve,” added Toni.

Benedict took a spoonful of the bread pudding. “Shall we call a truce then?”

“Yes, I think that’s a good idea for all our sakes,” replied Neil.

“Then I hereby proclaim that this case is closed,” declared Toni with a laugh, as she banged her spoon on the table top like a gavel.

“Try the bread pudding, Antonia, it’s excellent,” Benedict said around a mouthful of the sweet concoction.

“Mmmm…the banana ice cream goes well with it.”

_Now that the air has been cleared somewhat, I think it's time to broach the subject of an engagement ring,_ thought Neil.

“I’m assuming that you haven’t come all this way without having given some thought as to a ring,” began Neil.  “May I ask what – if anything – have you done about it?”

Benedict smiled shyly.  “Erm…well, I have actually.  Would you like to…”

_I knew he would ask us to help him!_   thought Toni with glee.  _Oh this day is really turning around!_

“Yes!!! We’d love to help you pick out Donna’s ring!  My younger brother, Frank, is a jeweler.  He has a booth in the Diamond and Jewelry Exchange on forty-seventh street,” interrupted Toni excitedly. “I can give him a call, and we can go down there this afternoon!  I guarantee that he’ll give you the best deal.”

“Toni’s right, Ben.  You will do so much better buying the ring wholesale than if you were to go into a retail jewelry store – such as Tiffany or Cartier. Their prices are ridiculously inflated.  If you want we could stop in at one of them first, and if you see anything you think Donna would like, Frank could make it up. Between that and the currency exchange rate, you’ll save a bundle buying the ring here.”

“It is so sweet and thoughtful of you to ask us!” gushed Toni.

“Erm…yeah…um…that’s not exactly…”

“OH!  You want Donna to pick out her own ring!  That might actually be a better idea even though I have an idea as to what she might like,” continued Toni.  “Well, that’s not a problem.  We can all go to Frank’s on Saturday. He’s open all day.”

_For fucks sake!  They've got this all wrong!_

“No! I want the ring to be a surprise," said Benedict. "I want to say that I feel terribly guilty about this, but…”

“There’s no need to feel that way, Ben.  Toni and I are more than happy to do it.”

“I’m just going to go out into the lobby to call Frank, so he can have some stones and settings ready for us.  Do you have an idea as to what you want to spend, Benedict?  The rule of thumb is to spend two months’ salary; but in your case that’s going to be harder to predict…”

“ _Antonia_!” hissed Neil. “That’s for Ben to discuss privately with Frank.”

Toni's face reddened. “I’m so sorry, Benedict.  I’m getting carried away…it’s just that I feel as if we’re truly involved this time, and I can't thank you enough!  I’ll be right back.  Neil, could you please let me out, so I can make the call. There’s no reception in here.”

“Wait, Antonia!  Erm…I feel horrible to have to disappoint you both; but that wasn’t what I was going to ask you. You see, I already bought Donna’s engagement ring.”

Benedict watched their faces fall as he uttered the words.  Toni looked bitterly disappointed.  Neil’s face wore an expression of thinly-veiled curiosity.

“What I was trying to ask is if you would you like to see the ring?  I brought it along to show you.”

Neil and Toni exchanged horrified glances and stared at Benedict.

“You bought the ring in London?” asked Toni.  “Did your parents go with you?”

“No to both questions.  I bought it here from your brother, Frank, yesterday afternoon. Steve accompanied me.”

“You bought the ring from my brother?  He said nothing about it to me! And Steve, who knows nothing about jewelry was there...Good Lord!  Lucky for you that Frank kept Donna's ring size on file and wouldn't steer you to something...what I mean is that Frank would have had an idea of what she'd like....and if she' doesn't, we know he'll be happy to exchange it.  Well, at least I know my brother wouldn't fleece you.  May I ask what you paid for it and what it appraised for?  You did think to it appraised afterwards at an independent appraiser, right?  Steve would know to take you to Jerry or at least he should.  If not, we'll go Saturday and have it appraised."

“It’s time for the prosecution to rest, Toni,” said Neil gently.  “It’s a done deal. Please let Ben finish explaining.”

Benedict nodded. “It's quite alright, Neil.  I can understand you wife's concerns as I am a novice when it comes to purchasing jewelry.  So, allow me to lay your fears to rest. Yes, I bought the ring from your brother, Antonia. Yes, he gave me a stonker of a deal. When I confided in Steve that I was planning on proposing to Donna, he put me in touch with Frank a couple of months ago. We’ve been corresponding via email and Skype.”

Toni looked furious. “Frank _never_ said a word to me about it!” she huffed indignantly. “Why we never, _ever_ , kept secrets from each other!”

“I asked him not to for fear of Donna somehow finding out,” said Benedict.  “We all know her stellar reputation for snooping and prying. Besides, I had a couple of close calls myself, so I figured the less people who knew, the better the chances of keeping the secret safe. Would you fancy having a look at it?”

“Of course we would!” replied Toni, suddenly forgetting that she was angry.

_This should be interesting_ , thought Neil.  _I bet it’s going to be a small diamond.  I hope I can see it._

_Benedict doesn’t have the funds to spring for a large diamond; so I’m sure Frank steered him towards something modest, yet tasteful._ _I hope Donna will like it._

_I hope to hell that Donna likes what he picked out,_ thought Neil.  _If I were Cumberbatch I would have proposed and let my daughter pick out her own ring given his taste in clothing.  
_

Benedict reached inside his inner jacket pocket and removed a small, heart-shaped, black velvet box.  He had discretely positioned his mobile on the table top, so the camera screen was aimed at Neil and Toni. 

_Look at their faces. They are expecting me to show them a tiny ring.  Hahahah!  I can’t wait to see their expressions when I reveal this thing!_

“Ready?” he asked playfully.  “I guarantee that it’s not what either of you is expecting.”

_Shit!  It’s probably worse.  I could have given him some money towards it,_ thought Neil _.  I hope to hell its nothing Donna will be ashamed of wearing.  
_

_Hmmm…I recall Pa saying that sometimes they don’t always give diamonds as engagement rings in England.  It might be a sapphire or maybe one of those colored diamonds.  I wonder if Donna would like something like that?_ Thought Toni.   _I’m going to rip that box out of his hand if he doesn’t open it already!_

“Yes! Please stop being so dramatic!” scolded Toni, half- jokingly.  “I’m dying of suspense.”

“It’s not like you’re revealing the Hope Diamond here,” groused Neil.  “Let’s see it already.”

Benedict carefully opened the box and placed it on the table, turning it towards Neil and Toni so they could see it.  He sat back with a smug smile on his handsome face as his index finger hovered over the camera button at the ready.

_Feast your eyes on that, you wankers!_

“Jesus Horatio Christ!” exclaimed Neil, setting down his coffee cup with a bang.  He didn’t even notice that the coffee had sloshed over the rim into the saucer. 

Toni, eyes wide, clapped her hand over her mouth as she stared at the glittering ring in disbelief.  “Oh my God…its…its…its…absolutely breathtaking, Benedict!”

Neither of them noticed that Benedict had taken a photo of their reaction.

_How in the hell did Cumberbatch manage to afford something like that?  My brother-in-law prefers to deal in cash. Where would he get that kind of money?  Steven doesn’t make enough to lend him that kind of sum.  Maybe his parents helped him?  No.  I can’t see them having that much spare cash to float a ring of that size._

_Benedict could never, ever afford to buy Donna such a magnificent ring,_ thought Toni.  _Wanda and Timothy must have helped, but I don’t think they have the funds to make such a contribution.  I know Timothy does come from a wealthy family, so perhaps it was him._

_I know.  There’s only one answer,_ thought Neil triumphantly.  _That stone isn’t real, and if Cumberbatch thinks he’s going to fool Donna, he’s sorely mistaken._

Neil frowned as he studied the ring closely.  “Is it a cubic zirconia?” he politely inquired.

“Fuck no! Those are all genuine diamonds you see, Neil!  And I’ve got the papers to prove it,” announced Benedict proudly as he removed the envelope containing the appraisal from his inner jacket pocket.  “Here.  See for yourself.”

Neil took the envelope from Benedict and removed the appraisal.  Toni leaned over his shoulder so they could both read it as she opened her handbag and began to feel around in it. 

_Hahaha!  I bet she’s going to pull out a jeweler’s loupe,_ thought Benedict.

“Jerry did the appraisal,” commented Toni.  “He’s got the office upstairs in the seventy-five building.  I like that you can trust him, and he’s never been wrong yet in his evaluations.”  She looked up at Benedict. “ Did you tell him you bought the ring from my brother?”

“No.  Steve advised me not to in order to maintain the integrity of the appraisal because you never know.”

Toni and Neil both beamed and nodded their approval.

“Ah!  Here it is!” exclaimed Toni as she pulled a jeweler’s loupe out of her handbag and set it on the table. “Now, we can get a good look at what kind of flaws there are.”

_Hahahah!  You can look until your heart’s content, Antonia; but you won’t find any. There are no flaws in that ring_ , thought Benedict with great satisfaction.

“I see you’re just like you’re daughter, the former Girl Scout - always prepared,” joked Benedict.

“Who do you think she learned all that from?  I wasn’t a troop leader for five years for nothing,” scoffed Toni.

“And Donna’s a credit to you, bless her.  Oh, and by the way, you can put your loupe away because you won't find any flaws in the ring.  It’s perfect in every aspect.”

Toni regarded him with thinly veiled skepticism and looked at her husband, who shrugged.  She set down the loupe for the time being and patiently looked on as Neil extracted the appraisal from the envelope and unfolded it. 

Benedict watched with growing amusement as Donna’s parents donned their reading glasses and carefully read over the appraisal and digested the information.  He would never forget the combined look of awe and approval on their faces and snuck another photo for posterity.  Then an idea suddenly occurred to him.

_Oh…I should use the video feature to record this.  This mobile can take up to a two minute video.  
_

Benedict’s index finger gently pressed the button to shut off the camera and activated the video feature. He did his best to suppress the laughter that was threatening to bubble up inside him.  

Toni looked up at Benedict, eyes wide. “This ring is worth four-hundred and fifty thousand dollars!” she uttered in a low voice. 

“The appraisal states that the all the stones are flawless and are of the highest quality,” added Neil, clearly impressed.

Benedict nodded.  “Yep.  All true.”

“I see that you went with a white gold setting rather than a platinum one,” observed Toni with a slight frown.  “Why was that?”

“Given Donna’s history and penchant for…erm…accidents, your brother thought gold would hold up better over time,” said Benedict.

“Makes perfect sense,” smiled Toni.  “I could see her banging into something and loosening the prongs or scratching it up. Platinum scratches easily.”

“I’m asking you to forgive and indulge my rudeness in advance, Ben; but I have to ask you this or it will eat at me for the rest of my life,” said Neil.  “Where in the hell did you get that kind of money to buy such a fabulous ring?”

“You can rest assured that I didn’t rob a bank or take out a loan.  I only paid for the setting and the diamonds within it.  The center diamond came from my paternal grandmother’s engagement ring, which was left to me.  Her will stated that the ring be handed down to her eldest grandson and kept in the Cumberbatch family. I could never even dream of being able to afford such a ring.” _  
_

_Here it comes_ , thought Neil. _He's going to say it was an embarrassment of riches._

“It was an embarrassment of riches to receive such a timely inheritance!  I only found out a couple of weeks ago when I told my parents of my intentions. I was rendered utterly speechless when Dad showed me the ring.”

“Somehow I doubt that,” quipped Neil.

Benedict held up his hand and laughed.  “No.  This time I truly was – for once.”

“May I take a closer look?” asked Toni, fingering the loupe anxiously.

_Knock yourself out, Antonia.  You’ve been dying to use that fucking thing.  
_

“Of course,” replied Benedict.  “It is lovely, isn’t it?  Do you think Donna will fancy it?  I’m hoping she doesn’t think the diamond is too big – you know, too flashy. I keep thinking she may prefer something more subdued.  I’m taking a chance by surprising her like this.”

“There’s never a thing as too big when it comes to diamonds,” snorted Neil.  “Especially in this family.”

“Donna will absolutely love it!” declared Toni, as she picked up the ring and studied it carefully with her loupe.  “May I try it on?”

Benedict nodded.  “Of course.  I’d like to see you model it.”

“My fingers are larger than Donna’s; so I’m not going to even try and get it onto my ring finger. This is the best I can do.”

Toni slipped it onto her pinky and held it out so Neil and Benedict could admire it as well.

“It is so very, very lovely,” said Benedict with a dreamy expression on his face. “I can’t wait to see it on Donna’s hand.”

Toni held out her hand a various angles. “It is gorgeous, Benedict.  I’ve never seen such a unique setting.  Did one of Frank’s designers make it up for you?  Or did you see it in a store and have him copy it?”

“Neither.  I designed it myself based on Donna’s love of flowers, and he had it made up based on my drawings. I wanted this ring to be a symbol of my lifetime commitment and promise of a future together. This ring is as unique as the woman who will be wearing it.”

“It is a _stunning_ setting,” declared Neil.  “Very unusual, and I agree with Toni that Donna will whole-heartedly approve.”

“Well, Donna should fancy the setting because she approved it herself, unbeknownst to her!” chuckled Benedict.   “She came across my sketches while snooping around my desk and thought it was for a painting of flowers that I was working on. Little did she know that I was in the midst of designing her engagement ring. I had several styles of flowers on the paper and she chose the one that I had fancied the most.  And here it is!”

“What a romantic thing to do!  It makes for a delightful anecdote, Benedict,” said Toni with a warm smile. “It will be something you and Donna can tell your children one day.”

Neil Saint James smiled approvingly at Benedict Cumberbatch.  “If Pa were here, he’d say:  well done you; but being he’s not, so I’ll say it:  Well done you, Ben – on all counts.”

“I trust you’re going to delete whatever photos and video you just took of us,” said Toni, indicating Benedict’s mobile.  “You’re not as discrete as you think.”

“Bloody hell!  Aren’t you the observant one!” laughed Benedict.  “Tell you what.  I’ll delete the video; but not the photos.  The look on your faces was priceless.  Here – see for yourselves.” 

Benedict slid his mobile across the table so Donna’s parents could take a look at the two photos he had taken.  Neil immediately burst out laughing.

“You look like a fish with your eyes and mouth open wide like that, Toni!” he cackled. 

“And you don’t?” giggled Toni.  “Gosh, those photos are awful.”

Neil hit the playback button in order to see the video.  “Good Lord, this video is even worse,” he grimaced as he pushed the mobile back across the table to Benedict.  “Not one of our finer moments.”

_Cumberbatch is going to love showing those around to his family and friends.  Wanda will probably enjoy making a copy of the video and showing it to her pals, Judi Dench and Diana Rigg.  I could even see her printing and framing those photos to hang over her couch._

“We come across as so cynical and distrustful.  I sound like I’m in the courtroom. Do we really sound like that?” Toni asked, face red.  “Crap.  How awful you must think us, Benedict.”

_Oh, I do,_ thought Benedict. _All true words._

“I’m afraid you do,” replied Benedict.  “However, I’ve slowly learnt that what motivates you both is pure and simple concern and love for Donna. You don’t wish to see her fucked over by me, and I do understand that; but you also have to learn to trust me and that I will do the right thing by her. That is my promise to you.”

“I will hold you to that promise as long as I live,” retorted Neil.  “Just so we’re perfectly clear.”

“Of that I have no doubt; and I have always respected and appreciated your honesty – no matter how blunt.  If there’s one thing my dad has taught me, it is to always be true to myself and to keep my word above all else.”

“Thank you, Benedict.  We appreciate that you want to reassure us of your good intentions,” said Toni.

“It’s true what you say, Ben.  Petty differences aside – and these are petty in the grand scheme of things - we are all on the same side,” said Neil. 

“I’m sorry for giving you a hard time, Benedict,” added Toni. “And you don’t have to delete the photos or the video for that matter.  The photos really are funny. Most importantly though, you expressed some truly lovely sentiments about Donna in the video that I’d like her to hear.”

“As well as proof that we can work things out when we want to,” chuckled Neil.

“I believe that is game, set and match then,” quipped Benedict.

“Just be sure to have someone take a photo of Donna’s face tomorrow night.  Unless you can manage to take one of your sneaky photos in the excitement,” said Toni.

“Not to worry, it’s part of the secret plan,” smiled Benedict.

_Hmmm…little does Cumberbatch know that he’s not the only one with a secret to keep. My daughter, his parents, Carly and Steve, Toni and I also have a secret plan to keep from him,_ thought Neil Saint James with great sadness.  _Lucky for him that he can reveal his tomorrow night without dire consequences. We have to keep ours for a lifetime._

 

 

After parting company with Benedict Cumberbatch, Neil and Antonia Saint James walked towards the Columbus Circle subway station.

“Neil, what are your plans for the rest of the day?”

“I have to go back and read that review of _The Office_ and attend a short meeting about changing the look of the movie reviews. Why?”

“Let’s duck in here so we can talk for a few minutes,” said Toni, indicating a Starbucks. 

“I just had two cups of coffee,” complained Neil, pushing open the door to the small coffee shop.

“Get a bottle of water and I’ll have a peppermint hot chocolate, made with skimmed milk.  I’ll be at that table in the corner,” said Toni, pointing to a small round blond wood table.  “Hurry, the line is getting long.”

Ten minutes later Neil approached the table to find Toni engrossed in looking up something on her cellphone.  He sat down at the small table for two with two peppermint hot chocolates.  “Skimmed milk for you and whole for me,” he announced placing the paper cups down as he took a seat across from her. "Yours is labeled 'Toni' and mine 'Neil', which never fails to tickle me."

“I thought you were having water.”

“You told me to have water, but I decided to join you in a hot chocolate because the woman in front of me ordered one and the smell was intoxicating.  So, why the sudden urge to sit in Starbucks?  Was it the irresistible lure of their hot chocolate or was it their free WiFi”

“Actually, it was both; and I had an idea.”

“I feared that might be the case and what’s worse is that I think I know what it is.”

“Do you?  Go ahead.  Indulge me,” smiled Toni as she blew on the surface of her drink in order to cool it.

“Please don’t do it, Toni.  It’s not a good idea.”

“Of course it is.  It’s a wonderful idea!”

“No, it’s not.  It’s really not.”

Toni started to laugh.  She put away her cellphone and sat back in her chair while regarding her husband with an amused expression.  “Okay. What is?”

“I think it’s a lousy idea to throw Donna and Ben an engagement party on such short notice. No one will be able to come with the holidays and snow in the forecast.”

“Ha!  This time you’re wrong, Darling Dear!  I had no intention of having an engagement party at this time, though it wasn’t a bad idea.  Next week is a holiday week as you pointed out, the weather is supposed to be crappy and everyone will be busy cooking and traveling.  My idea is to invite Wanda and Tim to fly over and join us for Thanksgiving.” 

Neil sputtered and almost choked on a mouthful of hot chocolate.  “Shit. That idea is even worse.”

“Think what a nice surprise that would be for Benedict – to be surrounded by his family at such a happy time.”

“Maybe for Cumberbatch it will be. This was a lousy surprise for me however.”

“I think his parents should be here to share this joyful occasion with him.”

“I think I’d rather give them a party than have them ruin our Thanksgiving.”

Toni looked horrified.  “Where’s your sense of family, Neil Saint James?”

“I left it at Asiate.”

“Stop being such a damn wiseass, Neil.  I’m being serious!”

“So am I.  It’s the worst possible travel week of the year.  They will never be able to book a flight on such short notice; and should the forecast be right for once and there’s snow, flights will be cancelled.”

“I was just looking at the American Airlines site and there is still space available on some flights.  They’d have to fly in Monday or Tuesday in order to avoid the storms.”

“I’m not paying for their tickets.”

“I’m not asking you to for heavens sake!  I’m sure your father can pull some strings with some of his old friends at American Airlines to get Benedict’s parents discounted tickets or something.”

“They aren’t family. Pa can get discounts for his immediate family, which means Wanda and Tim don’t qualify.  Besides we have to fly standby most of the time in order to take advantage of the discounted tickets.”

“They will be family sooner or later, Neil; and there’s nothing that you can do to change that.” 

Neil sipped his hot chocolate.  “Stop reminding me. Do you think Cumberbatch will push for a short engagement?”

“There’s no doubt in my mind about that.  I’m betting they’ll have a Valentine's Day wedding, if it’s up to him.”

“That's not enough time to plan a wedding," scoffed Neil. "Carly's was in the planning stages for a year."

"Um...if you recall, our wedding was planned at the last minute," giggled Toni. "So, it can be done."

"We just changed your high school graduation party into a wedding reception, Dear.  The changes were minor."

"I was just thinking Benedict will be filming Sherlock over the winter, so he won't have the time to invest in wedding planning. Then he has that play right afterwards.  They can't get married until late summer at the earliest."

"Donna prefers cooler weather anyway,” said Neil. 

“I was just thinking...Wouldn’t a Christmas wedding at Disney be fun?  The parks are all decorated for the holidays, and we could combine the rehearsal dinner with the Candlelight Processional dinner package. Maybe we could all stay at the Grand Floridian so we can be close to the Wedding Pavilion and see the Wishes fireworks show over the Magic Kingdom before going to bed.  We’ll have to work fast to make reservations – everything fills up so fast during that time of year!”

“Whoa hoa, Toni. You’re getting ahead of yourself,” warned Neil.  “Cumberbatch doesn’t strike me as the type of man who would want to get married at Walt Disney World.  I picture him going for a traditional English wedding.”

“Heaven forbid!” Toni stared at Neil as if he were crazy.  “Donna’s dream is to be married at Disney!  She always talks about it – you know damn well that’s her dearest wish!”

“If Donna were still involved with Danny Manganero that would not have been a problem as he loves Disney as much as she does.  Hell, he’s made his career there. It’s not easy to work your way up from theme park performer to the Vice President in charge of live entertainment.”

“Think of the discounts Danny could have gotten us if he and Donna had gotten married!  I wonder if he still would be able to get us discounts.  I’d ask him to do us a favor for old times’ sake.  We still keep in touch and socialize with his parents whenever we're in Orlando or they're in New York.”

“Cumberbatch will not want a Disney wedding, Toni.  I beg you to trust me on this. You – and Donna – will only be setting yourselves up for disappointment.  There is no way in hell that man is going to wear Groom Mouse Ears and spend his honeymoon riding Space Mountain just to appease our daughter – no matter how deeply he loves her.”

“You don’t know that for certain, Neil,” said Toni hesitantly.  “They do such a beautiful job at Disney!  Why look how perfect Carly’s wedding turned out!  Our family and friends still rave about it – everyone had such a good time!”

“I want you to think about what I just said, Toni.  I’ll bet you dollars to donuts that Cumberbatch has his own ideas as to the type of wedding his wants and honeymoon destination.  As Pa would say, he’s been broody for a long time.  He’s a man who knows exactly what he wants, and Donna is going to have to compromise.”

The couple sat in silence, drinking their hot chocolates.

“Gosh.  I hope you’re wrong about Benedict.  Donna would be crushed if she can’t have her Disney Dream Wedding.”

“What can I say, Toni?  I didn’t pick the jerk for her to fall in love with.  Our daughter made that mistake by herself.”

“I thought we just got done burying the hatchet with Benedict.”

“I’m still keeping the handle exposed just in case I ever need it.”

“Neil, please stop being so damn pig-headed about this.  He’s really not a bad person.  We need to lay off and give him some time to decompress.”

“And enough rope to hang himself,” snickered Neil.

“I’m really glad I’m on your good side,” grinned Toni.  “You’re not an easy man to convince.”

“Not when it comes to my daughters.  What can I say to change your mind about this sudden desire to promote togetherness?”

“Nothing.  Consider it a fait accompli.”

“I’m asking you to please reconsider this idea, Toni.”

“Thanksgiving is all about being with family, and Benedict and his parents are going to be part of ours.  It’s time we started a new tradition and begin sharing this holiday together.  Not to mention that your dad will be thrilled at the prospect at seeing Wanda again.”

Neil finished his hot chocolate and stood up.  “I think I'm going to walk back to the office, so I can do some thinking.  Promise me you won’t take any action until I get home. I’ll see you later.”

Toni crossed her heart and rolled her eyes.  “Promise.”

 

 

Two hours later, Neil Saint James entered his brownstone on East 21st Street to find his father and wife in the kitchen.  Colin was chatting away on the phone, and Toni was typing furiously on her laptop.

“That’s brilliant!  Yes, I have it,” Colin said as he wrote something on a pad.  “Thanks, Mate. I owe you one,” he said as he hung up the landline.

“I take it you have good news?” asked Toni.

“I most certainly do. The business of the tickets has been sorted,” Colin announced with a note of triumph in his voice.  “All they have to do is book them and mention this code I’ve written down.”

Neil narrowed his eyes and frowned at Colin and Toni.  “Hello and I hope whoever it is you were thanking, got us discounted theatre or movie tickets; rather than airline tickets from London to here.”

“I’m afraid your hopes are going to be dashed then, Son,” laughed Colin, casting a conspiratorial look at his daughter-in-law.  “Are you going to call them now before it gets any later?”

Neil sighed deeply with resignation as he kissed Toni on the cheek.  “I guess this means you two found a way to get Benedict’s parents tickets to come here for Thanksgiving.”

Colin nodded excitedly.  “A former first officer of mine, Nigel, made it all possible, bless him.”

“I must remember to thank Nigel, should I ever meet him.”

“You can stop taking the piss now, Neil,” snapped Colin.  “Toni told me what transpired over lunch, and I think it’s time to make peace with the situation.  Tomorrow is a day of celebration – my lovely granddaughters are turning thirty years old and the youngest one is getting engaged to a lovely man with whom she’s totally besotted. What could be better yes?”

“A lot of things could be better,” retorted Neil.

Colin threw up his hands in disgust.  “Neil, you should be chuffed that Benedict came to you and not only saw to include you in his plan; but he properly asked for your blessing as well.”

“Please don’t misunderstand, Pa. I do appreciate that Cumberbatch did it that way.”

“Then why the fuss?  Is it because he’s the only one of Donna’s beaus who ever had the guts to stand up to you?  I think that’s what’s getting your knickers in a twist.  You don’t fancy being challenged or put in your place.”

“How right you are, Pa.  Unfortunately, I’m going to have to include myself in that category.”  Chimed in Toni.

“Did I miss something? I was under the impression that the lunch did go off fairly well from what Toni told me,” remarked Colin.  “Though I do have to admit I had a bit of second-hand embarrassment for you two whilst watching that video,” he chuckled.

“All in all it actually did end on a positive note,” said Neil grudgingly.  “There were a few bumpy spots along the way, but we managed to iron them out. Did Toni tell you about the ring?”

“That ring is just cracking!  I’ve never seen a more beautiful piece of jewelry, and what a sweet story behind it!  To think that young Benedict treasures our Donna so much that he wanted to commemorate their love with such an intricate and exquisite design!  I lost count of all those bloody diamonds after a while.  I just think it’s perfect for Donna!” exclaimed Colin. “Donna picked a good one this time around.  He’s respectful, generous…”

Neil held up his hand.  “Wait a minute, Pa.  Something just dawned on me.  You said you saw the video?  Are you referring to the one Cumberbatch took when he showed us the ring?”

Colin nodded.  “Yes to both questions.”

“Benedict emailed me the photos and the video,” explained Toni.  “They just popped up in my email a few minutes ago with the cutest note from him.  Let me read it to you…”

“I like his sense of humour.  It was very thoughtful of Ben to share those with you,” added Colin. “You can tell he comes from a good home. Wanda…and Tim brought him up properly, and they both should be right proud of him.”

“Dearest Antonia…” began Toni.  “I can just hear him saying my name in that rich, deep baritone of his.  No wonder he gets so much voice over work!”

“I imagine him to be quite good at recording those audio books,” added Colin.  “His voice is perfect for it.”

“As I was saying:  Dearest Antonia…”

Neil held up his hand again. “It’s okay.  I don’t need to hear Cumberbatches’ email.  If you’ll both excuse me for a while, I’m going to take Pierre out for a walk.  Hopefully, by the time I return, the meeting of the Benedict Cumberbatch Fan Club will have adjourned.”

“I already took Pierre out for his afternoon romp,” said Colin, indicating the Giant Poodle lying in a dog bed in a corner of the kitchen by the French doors, which opened into the back garden.  “He’s knackered.”

“I’m going to call Wanda and Tim on Skype now, and I’d like for you to be here when I issue our invitation, Neil.”

“Your invitation.  This was not my idea.”

Toni and Colin both glared at Neil.

“It’s the right and proper thing to do, Neil,” said Colin with annoyance.  “You know it is.”

“Pa is right,” agreed Toni.  “Let’s call them now while it’s still fairly early in London.”

Neil Saint James grudgingly dragged over a chair to sit alongside Toni.  “Go ahead.  Make the call.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. The photos are what I imagine Neil and Toni's brownstone in Gramercy Park and kitchen to look like.


	124. Chapter 124

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanda and Timothy are invited to Thanksgiving Dinner in New York, which gives Colin an idea. Donna has a conversation with Toni.
> 
> Note: I’ll be using *************** for things happening at the same time.

 

“I knew Boris was the murderer!” laughed Wanda Ventham gleefully, as the program she and Timothy had been watching ended.  “Some of these plots are so predictable.”

“That’s true, though you picked up the clues sooner than I did,” agreed Timothy, picking up the TV remote. 

“I thought it was rather obvious that he was the one who killed the vicar.”

“To be honest, I was having trouble concentrating after Ben’s call.  My mind keeps going back to it.”

“Hells bells! You’re still ticked off yes?  I thought things went rather well all things considered.”

“I just wish he hadn’t sent us those photos and that blasted video,” said Timothy.  “It just made me want to deck that smug bastard and his twat wife all over again.”

“My favourite part was when they heard and realized just how monstrous they were treating our Ben and properly apologized to him.”

“That apology was long overdue if you ask me.  However, don’t sit there and tell me you think that debacle of a lunch went rather well.”

“I really do think that, Tim.”

“You may continue to delude yourself if you choose to.  I know better."

 “Jolly good then.”

“Neil Saint James will forever be having a go at Ben as long as he’s an actor, I’m afraid,” moaned Timothy.  “There might be a glimmer of hope for Toni though.  Ben seems to know how to charm her.”

“When our son’s career begins to take off, then the right bastard will – what did Ben tell him that night at the Ivy Club?”

“That one day Neil would wind up eating his own words, and Ben would be the one to feed them to him with a spoon,” chuckled Timothy, slapping his knee. “What I wouldn’t give to see that come to pass!”

“Now, that’s an amusing visual,” quipped Wanda. “Let’s hope that day comes to pass soon, and I think it might if _Sherlock_ is moderately successful.”

“Fancy a tipple whilst we watch the news?”

“Oh, yes, please.  However, I think I’ll pass on the news and have a read of my book instead,” replied Wanda. ”I'm just getting to the part where Andrea is about to reveal her affair to Ned."

“Not a problem, I’ll bring yours bedside then.”

“I had planned on reading right here and keeping you company.”

Timothy got off the couch and returned with two tumblers and a bottle of port.  He poured a three finger measure into each glass.

“That’s a very generous amount of port – even by your standards,” observed Wanda dryly.  “Is it your aim for me to get pissed so you can have your way with me?”

Timothy snickered and kissed the top of her head as he handed her a glass.  “It might just.  I was thinking of getting pissed myself.  It’s been an intense day with waiting for news from New York and all.”

“If you’re off your face, you won’t have anything of substance to aim with. Alcohol hasn't been your friend as of late when it comes to life’s amourous pursuits.”

“No, it hasn’t been; and I didn’t think to take my little blue pill.”

A loud chime sounded from their computer, heralding that they had an incoming Skype call.

“Now who do you think that could be?  It’s rather late - unless it's my sister calling from Italy,” said Timothy.  “I hope nothing’s gone wrong.”

Wanda got to her feet and hurried to the desk.  “I bet its just Ben, calling to say goodnight.”

“He already bid us a good night,” Timothy reminded her. “Christ, I hope there isn’t more that he didn't have time to tell us.  Sometimes ignorance is bliss.”

Wanda looked at the screen and groaned loudly as she pounded her hand on the desktop.  “Bloody hell! We’re both wrong!  It’s Toni Saint James.”

Timothy quickly joined his wife at the computer, glasses of port in hand.  “What in the fuck do you think she wants?”

“We don’t know if she wants _anything_ , Tim.  I’m thinking that perhaps she wants to tell us how happy they are that Donna and Ben are finally getting engaged.”

“I think the chances are far better that pigs have been spotted flying over Buckingham Palace,” Timothy snorted as he pulled up a chair to sit beside Wanda.   “Bless you, my love. You are forever the optimist.  Toni doesn’t make it a habit to Skype call for the sole purpose of having a chat.”

Wanda noticed that Timothy had brought their port with him.   “I see you’ve brought our drinks over.  Are you expecting that we’ll need them?”

“Yes, particularly if your nemesis is with her.”

“You make a good point.  Better get the bottle just in case,” declared Wanda.

“I’ll be right back. In the meantime, please answer the damn call before she rings off, will you.”

 

**********************************************************

 

“Hmmm…if they haven’t answered by now, they’re not going to,” observed Neil.  “You might as well hang up, Toni.”

“I don’t give up that easily,” retorted Toni with a frown.  “It’s only ten thirty in London. I doubt they go to bed _that_ early.”

“Their Skype icon shows that they are signed in,” pointed out Colin hopefully. “They must still be up.”

“Carly and Donna are always signed into Skype when they're in London,” said Neil.  “Maybe Wanda and Tim do the same in case their son decides to call them, which I’m sure he has.  Can you imagine what their long-distance phone bill would be like having to suffer through one of his long-winded, rambling conversations?”

"I shudder to think," giggled Toni. 

“You must be right, Neil.  They must be signed in but went to bed,” sighed Colin, clearly disappointed. "Surely, they would have answered by now as their flat isn't all that big."

"And you've got the photographs to prove it," scoffed Neil.  "I hope you got around to deleting those, Pa."

Neil noticed that his father didn't deny or confirm that the did.

_Oh, Pa.  You've still got them on your phone so you can show them around your club. Bragging rights are worth something even at his age._

“Well, they aren’t answering regardless, so I’ll give up for now and start dinner,” declared Toni.  "I don't know about you two, but I'm starting to get hungry."

“What’s on tonight’s menu?” inquired Colin.

“Broiled lamb chops, twice-baked potatoes and salad.”

“Do you need a hand?” inquired Neil.

“If you wouldn’t mind making the salad while I marinate the chops and get the potatoes into the oven, that would be greatly appreciated."

“I’ll lay the table,” offered Colin.

“Tell you what, Pa.  How about trying Wanda and Tim one last time when you’re done setting the table?” suggested Toni.  “They may have been out of the room when I called.  If I recall their computer’s in the living room.”

"Gladly!" Colin pulled his mobile out of his jeans pocket and quickly scrolled through his photos.  “Aye, it’s sat on a desk in the corner of the lounge.  You can see it right here,” he confirmed, as he held out the mobile so Toni could see it.  “They might not have heard you calling if they were in another room.”

Colin's face reddened slightly as he words left his mouth, and he realized that he had just confirmed his son's suspicions.

_Bollocks!  Now my son knows I didn't delete them.  Why the hell should I?  I've also got them saved on my laptop just in case I were to lose these, but he needn't know about that._

_And my father has just been caught red-handed with the evidence,_ thought Neil.  _I can't believe it._

“Jesus Christ, Pa!  I can’t believe you still have those photos of their house on your cellphone!” exclaimed Neil. 

“Believe, Son.  I would never delete such rare photos of Wanda Ventham’s actual home.”

Neil raised an eyebrow at his father.

“Those are photos that she didn’t give you permission to take if I recall,” he reminded the older man.

Colin chose to ignore him.  “Percy and James were most impressed when I showed them,” he sniffed.  “Up until recently, only James could boast that he had gotten Wanda’s autograph at a sci-fi convention in Kent a few years ago.”

Neil looked bewildered.  “You’ve actually been showing the photos around your club?”

Colin nodded vigourously. “Wanda has more fans here than you would think. She still has quite the following amongst us ex-pats, bless her.”

Neil took a deep breath and shook his head as he sliced into a head of iceberg lettuce.  _I’m not going there._   _Wanda should only know she’s the toast of the Gramercy Park British Society._   “I think I’ll make us a wedge salad with chopped tomato, bacon and crumbled Gorgonzola.  I'll whisk up a simple dressing with some olive oil, cherry balsamic vinegar and a touch of mustard."

"Make sure to use the Coleman's mustard," said Colin.  "It's the only mustard with any bite to it."

"Will do, Pa.  Only good English mustard will do in this kitchen."

“Sounds good to me,” said Toni.  “The more I think about it, I definitely think it’s worth a try to give them one last call. Who knows? They might have gone into the kitchen for a late-night snack.  Wanda strikes me as the type who likes to munch while watching TV.”

 

**********************************************************

 

“Bloody hell! Wanda!  Where in blazes did you get off to?” demanded Timothy Carlton, as he gazed about the empty lounge, completely perplexed.

“I’m coming!  Don’t be so stropy!” came his wife’s voice from the hallway.

Wanda hurried into the room, wearing a royal blue and red flower-patterned silk caftan.  The flowers on the caftan were outlined in shiny gold thread, and she wore gold brocade slippers with a small heel on her feet.  Her hair had been brushed into a neat bob, and Timothy noticed that she had also carefully reapplied her makeup.

“Oh, Mr. DeMille, Ms. Ventham is ready for her close-up now!" called out Timothy to the empty room behind Wanda.  "I didn’t realize you were scheduled for a photo shoot at such a late hour, Pet.  When do the photographers arrive?  This way I'll know when to put the kettle on.”

“Bugger off, Tim!  I need to make an impression!” cried Wanda.

Timothy regarded his wife from head-to-toe and nodded approvingly. 

“You may count me as being very impressed then.  However, I was fine with you wearing your pajamas and ratty old pink slippers.  There was no need to dress up just to drink port with me.”

“I can't let them see me sitting around in my owl pajamas and fluffy slippers now, can I?"

"I don't see why the hell not; but what do I know?"

"Please stop teasing me, Timothy!  Be serious now.  How do I look?” 

She paused to slowly twirl around in front of him.

“You look exactly like you did a minute ago.  What did you do that was different just now?”

“Wipe that amused look off your handsome face, please; and tell me how I look, damn you!”

“You look like someone who purposely got dressed up to take a Skype call,” snickered Timothy, taking his seat at the computer.  “You do realize the slippers will be wasted on them, unless you decide to prop your feet on top of the desk.”

“You’ve seen Toni! I can’t let the likes of her see me in my pajamas and house slippers with not a trace of makeup on and my hair in a messy bun.  What would she think?”

Timothy pretended to consider her question carefully.  “Hmmm…given the time difference, she’d think that you were someone who was getting ready to go to bed yes?”

“What if Colin happens to be about?  You know he does live with them.”

_Ah ha!  The penny drops.  It's all about impressing the self-proclaimed President of the Wanda Ventham Fan Club's US Division.  I should have known better._

“Please accept my sincerest apologies for taking the piss then.  I completely forgot that you do have an image of glamour to maintain for your biggest fan.  Silly me for thinking you might have gotten dressed up for me,” said Timothy in a petulant tone of voice.

“Hells bells!  They’ve gone and rung off!  Shit!  I did all this for nothing!” she wailed in frustration.

“Trust me, Wanda; your efforts will not be wasted on me.”

“Thank you, but I couldn’t stand the thought of any of them seeing me looking like a charwoman.  It must be almost six in New York, so they might have rung off to have dinner.  Donna said they fancy eating early.”

Timothy rolled his eyes and tapped the bottom left corner of the computer screen.

“Look, Pet. They are still showing as signed into Skype.”

“Why didn’t you answer their call then?” demanded Wanda.

“Because I was feeling peckish and decided we needed some cheese and fruit to complement our port.  I had no idea you were going to retreat to the bedroom to get changed and do a complete make up job and hair styling.  If I had realized that, I could have rung up that stylist you fancy using whenever we have an event to attend – though I’m not certain she could have popped over here on such short notice.”

“Sod off, Tim!”

"Come to think of it, she might not do stylings for Skype calls.  Next I see her, I'm going to tell her that there's definitely a market for it here in Kensington; and she really should consider expanding her services to include Skype calls."

"Tim, you are absolutely incorrigible at times; and this is one of them!"  Wanda plopped into her chair and took a sip of the port.  “Mmmm…this is good stuff,” she said smacking her lips.

"Isn't it though? It's almost too good to waste on a Skype call with them," quipped Timothy.  “Port like this is meant to be savoured with someone special; rather than using it to bolster our resolve during a conversation neither of us wants to have with these dolts.”

“Shall we steel ourselves and ring them back then?”

“Don’t tease me, Pet.  Are you really going to take my answer seriously or is this one of those instances when you bloody well know what you’re going to do and this is just to appease my sense of pride?”

“The latter,” laughed Wanda. “Let’s get this over and done with so we can properly enjoy our snack.”

“I hope we're not going to need a Gaviscon chaser when we're done.  We only have the cherry-flavoured one."

"I hope not as well.  That Gaviscon has such a chalky aftertaste," sighed Wanda.

"Is there anything I can do or say to change your mind, Love?”

Suddenly, the Skype call chime went off.  It was Toni Saint James calling once again.  Wanda and Timothy both groaned in unison and picked up their glasses of port. 

“Cheers!” they said in unison as they touched glasses and each took a healthy swallow.

Timothy watched with dread as Wanda clicked on the icon and suddenly the Saint James family filled their screen.  They appeared to be sitting at a dining table in a very sleek, modern-looking kitchen.  Toni was flanked by Colin and Neil.  Neil looked like Timothy felt, whereas Colin looked as if he had won the lottery.  He was beaming and looked as if he would burst upon laying eyes on his favourite actress once again.

_“Just look at you, Wanda Ventham!  You look as young and lovely as a primary school girl!”_ gushed Colin Saint James.  _“What a treat this is for my eyes!”  
_

_Bloody hell!_ Thought Timothy _.  We’ve got the whole damn lot of them!  I hope Wanda's noticed that they're all dressed rather casually as well._

"Look, not one of them is dressed up for a Skype call.  It must be a British thing," whispered Timothy.  He immediately felt his wife nudge his foot to shut up.

“Oh, thank you, Colin!” giggled Wanda, blushing profusely.  “What a lovely way to start off a call!”  She sat up straight and tossed her head, holding it at the angle the photographers always told her was her best look.

“For fucks sake!  This is going to be a long call,” muttered Timothy disgustedly under his breath.

 

*********************************************************

“Just look at you, Wanda Ventham!  You look as young and fresh as a primary school girl!” gushed the dapper Colin Saint James.  “What a treat this is for my eyes!”

_“Oh, thank you, Colin!”_ giggled Wanda coquettishly.  _“What a nice way to start off a call!”  
_

"Hahaha!  She got all dressed up just to talk to us!" Toni whispered in a barely audible voice.

“Tim said something I couldn’t make out,” Neil said under his breath to Toni.

“You weren’t supposed to.”

“Pa’s really laying it on thick.”

“I think it’s sweet.”

“I don’t know which is more nauseating:  watching him flirt at his age or her reaction to it!”

“Cheers, Timothy!  I hope you're well,” said Colin, purely as an afterthought. _  
_

_“I’m fine, thank you,”_ replied Timothy curtly. _“How very nice to see you again.”  
_

“Hi Wanda!  Hi Tim!  I hope we’re not interrupting anything,” began Toni.

_“We were just watching the late news and having a tipple and light snack before bed,_ ” said Wanda.

"See, I knew they were snackers," Toni whispered to Neil.  "That's why she's the size she is."

“Not everyone looks as lovely as you do before going to bed,” declared Colin.  “You’re a lucky man, Tim, to have such a beautiful and glamourous woman to share a tipple with.”

“Tim’s getting visibly pissed with all of Pa’s flattery,” Neil whispered to Toni.  “Let me try and cut him off.”

“Good idea. I can see that Tim’s feeling jealous.”

“Hello and greetings from New York!” said Neil cordially.

 

****************************************************

_“Not everyone looks as lovely as you do before going to bed,”_ declared Colin.  _“You’re a lucky man, Tim, to have such a beautiful and glamourous woman to share a tipple with.”  
_

“Bloody fucking hell! Does the old fool really think you look like this every night?” groused Timothy in a low voice.

“Excuse me for caring about my appearance,” Wanda hissed back in a barely audible voice.

_“Hello and greetings from New York!”_ said Neil Saint James in a jovial tone.

“Hello and greetings from London,” replied Timothy with clipped politeness.

_“This Skype is a brilliant invention I must say,”_ declared Colin. _“It’s as if we’re all together in the same room having a nice little chat!”  
_

“Fancy that,” muttered Timothy. “Heaven help us should we be together in the same room.”

Timothy shut up as he felt Wanda’s foot graze his shin and immediately moved his foot out of striking range.

“I like the fact that we can have a face-to-face visit across the pond like this,” smiled Wanda.

“No you don’t,” scoffed Timothy under his breath. “You don’t fancy talking to them any more than I do.”

He immediately felt Wanda pinch his thigh as a warning to stop making comments.

_“Have you had a chance to speak with Benedict?”_ asked Toni pleasantly.

“Several times,” replied Timothy.  “He’s asked us to leave our Skype on so we can chat whenever he has some free time.  It gets very confusing with the time difference.” _  
_

_“Your son treated us to a lovely lunch today,”_ began Toni.

_And you thanked him by torturing the shit out of him_ , thought Timothy. 

“So he told us,” confirmed Wanda coolly.

_“Before we get started…”_ began Neil. _  
_

“Bloody hell!” whispered Timothy through gritted teeth.  “He’s just getting started?” _  
_

“Hush, you!” hissed Wanda through gritted teeth as well, smile frozen on her face _.  
_

_“…I’d like to say outright that I greatly appreciated that Ben thought enough of us to ask for Donna’s hand,”_ said Neil. _“Your son showed consideration and respect by doing things the right way.”  
_

"Blimey, it's nice to hear that Ben did _something_ they approve of!" Wanda said under her breath.

"So it would appear.  Give them time," replied Timothy through clenched teeth.

Neil could see that Wanda seemed to relax visibly and Timothy’s expression softened considerably at his words.  He nudged Toni’s elbow ever-so-gently.

“Our Benedict wouldn’t have done it any other way,” retorted Wanda, beaming with pride.  “Isn’t that right, Tim?”

“Our son was taught that a gentleman always consults with a woman’s parents when asking for her hand in marriage,” declared Timothy, equally as proud. “That’s how we do things over here...the proper way.”

Wanda poked Timothy in the ribs and blatantly turned off the camera.

“Hells bells!  I can’t seem to see anyone…there must be something wrong with the computer,” she said.

“What the fuck are you doing? Why did you just turn off the bloody camera?” demanded Timothy.

“I’d like you to stop with the snark!” snapped Wanda.

“I’m not being snarky.  I was just stating a simple fact.”

“I know snark when I hear it, Timothy Cumberbatch.”

_“Wanda?  Tim?  Are you still there?”_ asked Toni.  _“We can’t see you.”_

“We can’t see you either, Toni.  It must be the reception over here,” replied Wanda. 

“Sometimes we lose the visual,” added Timothy, smacking the desktop for effect.

“Now, please stop trying to bait him, Tim!  They’ll think you’re trying to purposefully start a row.”

"I don’t give a toss what they do or don't think,” retorted Timothy.  “I wanted to impress upon them that our son is a gentleman born and bred.  He would never just propose and then tell them after the fact.”

 

*****************************************************

 

“Wanda?  Tim?  Are you still there?” asked Toni.  “We can’t see you.”

“ _We can’t see you either, Toni.  It must be the reception over here,”_ replied Wanda.

_“Sometimes we lose the visual,”_ added Timothy.

“It sounds like one of them is hitting the computer,” observed Colin in a low voice.

“No.  It sounds more like one of them is pounding on the desk,” retorted Neil in barely a whisper.

“How lame is that?” giggled Toni, covering her mouth to keep from laughing out loud.

“She turned off the camera so she could tell him off without the ventriloquist act,” snickered Neil.  “Too bad, I was enjoying it!”

“They must have been talking about you two,” remarked Colin. 

“Surely, they knew we were on to them,” laughed Neil. "I can't wait to email Rod about this!"

 Toni shook her head in disbelief.  “Do they honestly think we can’t see and hear what they're doing?”

 “Apparently not,” chortled Neil.

“Shhhhhh!  They can hear you just like we can hear them!” warned Colin.

"This is a good example of why they’re jobbing actors, rather than Oscar-winning ones,” whispered Neil.

"Let's both stop with the snide remarks and try to hold it together for Donna's sake," said Toni.

The computer screen suddenly came back on, depicting a more composed-looking Wanda and Timothy.

_“Can you see us now?”_   Asked Wanda demurely.

“Yes,” Colin replied.

_“Can you believe it was just a loose wire?”_ said Timothy, sipping his port.

“Imagine that,” quipped Toni.

“No, but I believe one of your turned off the camera,” muttered Neil under his breath.  “Ooooooh  Owwwww!”

_“Are you alright, Neil?”_ inquired Wanda.

Neil glared at Toni, who had kicked him under the table.  “It was just a leg cramp.”

“My husband is prone to them,” added Toni with a serene smile.

 

**********************************************************

 

“Hahahah!  Did you see that? She must have kicked the wanker under the table,” mumbled Timothy under his breath. 

“Well done, her,” whispered Wanda through gritted teeth. "He probably deserved it."

Suddenly, the sound of a dog barking in the background could be heard, followed by a large black blur flashing across the screen behind Neil, Toni and Colin.

“Bloody hell!  What on earth was that?” whispered Timothy.

 “It looked like a bear or a pony to me,” replied Wanda.  "Whatever it was was gigantic!"

_“There’s someone in the lounge!”_ exclaimed Colin.  _“Pierre!  Heel!”_

Wanda and Timothy looked on with curiosity as the Saint James family suddenly ceased speaking. They all visibly stiffened at the sound of Donna’s voice, which seemed to be coming from another room:

" _Hi! Guys!  It’s just me!  Helloooooo!  Where is everybody?”_

“It’s Donna!” whispered Wanda.

“They don’t look as if they were expecting her either from the looks on their faces,” whispered back Timothy.

 

*********************************************************

 

“Crap!  I had no idea Donna was coming over!” said Neil in a low voice.

"I bet she's come to collect Pierre," said Colin.  "She mentioned it the other day that she wanted him back at her flat whilst she was in town."

"Just what we didn't need!" hissed Toni.  She looked at the computer screen to address Wanda and Tim, smiling nervously.  "Wanda, Tim, please don't hang up.  Donna's here."

"Why don't you just ring us back when she's gone," said Wanda.

"No! Now that she's here, she'll hang around for dinner," explained Toni

"We'll be just a minute. Please don't hang up," added Neil.

“Mom?  Dad?  Grandpa?  Now don’t everyone answer at once!” joked Donna.

“I’ll go distract her whilst you finish up your business,” offered Colin, getting to his feet. "Quick as you can now, I can only stall her for so long. You know how nosy she can be if she suspects I'm trying to keep her from coming in here."

“Pierre!  Down, boy!  Hey!  I missed you, too!  Where is everyone?  Guys?  I came to take Pierre back to my place,” called out Donna.  “I thought we could walk over to Olive’s first and get some dinner together.”

"I told you she's come to collect Pierre," said Colin over his shoulder.

“She can’t take Pierre back to her apartment,” said Toni.  “She and Carly will be out all day and most of the evening tomorrow.  There will be no one to walk or feed him, and besides we don’t know if he’ll take to Benedict. Remember how he hated Jonathan."

"That was perfectly understandable. We all hated Jonathan," quipped Neil.

“I’ll talk her around into leaving him here,” said Colin.  “Don’t worry.  I’ll sort it out somehow.”

“Be right there, Muffin!” yelled Neil, also getting to his feet. “I’ll go out there and help Pa keep her from coming in here.  You need to finish up this call just in case Donna does decide to come after you.”

Toni smiled at Wanda and Timothy.  “It seems Donna has dropped by unexpectedly to pick up her dog to take back to her place.”

_“That was a huge dog,”_ quipped Timothy. _  
_

_“Ben adores large dogs,”_ added Wanda _.  “Sadly, we never had the time to take care of one when he was a small.”_

“Pierre is a Standard Poodle,” laughed Toni.  “But he’s as gentle as a lamb.  Anyway, being I have to make this quick, we’re calling to invite you both to join us for Thanksgiving Dinner so we can all celebrate our children’s engagement together.”

 

*****************************************************

 

Wanda clapped her hands together, visibly pleased at Toni’s invitation. 

“What a lovely idea, Toni!  Ben will be over the moon when he finds out!  We’d love to come!” _  
_

“We do?” muttered Timothy. 

He felt Wanda pinch his thigh again, but chose to ignore it.

“Whilst we appreciate the invite, Toni, it’s very costly to fly from London to New York just to have dinner,” said Timothy.  “Not to mention the cost of a hotel for the duration.  New York is almost as expensive as London.”

“We’ve got it all covered!” declared Toni.  “Colin managed to get you both a substantially-discounted APEX fare on American Airlines.  You’ll have to fly economy; and there are some restrictions but the discount is almost half off.  I’m going to email you a code to use when you make the reservation along with the choice of flights you can apply it to.”

_For fucks sake!  The wankers went ahead and got us a discounted fare.  There's no way I'm going to be in their debt.  None,_ thought Timothy angrily. 

“What type of restrictions will they impose?” asked Wanda with a slight frown.

_“Nothing awful,”_ replied Toni.  _“You can’t fly on a weekend, you can’t cancel or make any other changes, you can’t upgrade and you have to stay for at least two weeks.”_

_Two weeks in New York?  That'll cost a bloody fortune!  My wife's not thinking this through.  I need to shut this down now._

“Two weeks? Whilst that was exceedingly kind of Colin to go through all that bother, I’m afraid we’re going to have to decline,” said Timothy with as much tact as he could muster.  “We just don’t have the funds to stay in New York City for two weeks.”

_“I’ve got that covered, too,”_ said Toni.

_Of course she does, bless her.  Someone Toni knows got her discounted hotel rates as well._

_“You are both welcome to stay here with us,"_ continued Toni.  _"We have a very comfortable guestroom with its own private bathroom.”_

_NO FUCKING WAY IN HELL ARE WANDA AND I STAYING WITH THE LIKES OF THEM._

"Toni, whilst we appreciate your very kind and generous off,  I'm afraid that Wanda and I must..."

Wanda reached out and turned off the camera once again. She glared at her husband.

“Bloody hell!” exclaimed Timothy, smacking the desktop.  “Stop doing that for fucks sake!  You think they don't know what you're doing?”

“Oh my!  I bet it’s that pesky loose wire again,” exclaimed Wanda.  "Give us a minute, Toni.  We'll have it fixed in a tic." _  
_

_“Hurry!  Donna could barge in here at any moment!”_ warned Toni.

“I’m not going to New York. No motherfucking way,” hissed Timothy.  “Over my dead body will I stay in the same house with the likes of them for two weeks.”

“What do you want inscribed on your tombstone then?” hissed back Wanda.  “I want to share in Ben’s happiness, and I’m going to with or without you.”

“Are you daft, woman?”

“Probably; but I’m sure we can manage to solider on for two weeks with them.  We won't have to share a loo with them.”

_“Any luck?”_ asked Toni.

“Umm…not yet,” replied Wanda, smacking the desktop.  “I think it may be a different wire this time.”

_All aboard The Wanda Express.  I need to take control. I can't let my wife accept their invite._

“We can’t possibly impose on you like that,” said Timothy.  “Having us stay with you for two weeks would be quite disruptive to your routine.”

“ _You are going to be family,”_ retorted Toni.  _“Besides, Neil and I work during the day; so you’ll have the house to yourself to come and go as you please.  Colin is no trouble, as he has his own apartment on the ground floor and goes out most of the time.  We’ll give you an extra key and show you how to set the alarm.”  
_

“Did you hear that Tim?”

“Yes.  My hearing is perfectly fine; but if you go, you will be making a paramount mistake.”

“This is the only time our son is getting engaged, and I want to be there!” snapped Wanda.  “Correction:  I will be there."

"We can celebrate with Ben and Donna when they get back."

"It won't be the same as being there now!  You will not try and stop me nor will you try and talk me out of it, Timothy.  As you are so fond of saying behind my back – the Wanda Express has left the station and is headed to America!”

Timothy cast a dour look at his wife.  “You’ll be booking a ticket for one then.”

Wanda shrugged in response.  “I’m not ad versed to traveling alone, as you bloody well know.”

“I’m not going to stay under their roof with those wankers for two fucking weeks.  That will be akin to a preview of what hell would be like!”

“So be it,” retorted Wanda with a toss of her head and with that she leaned forward , turned the camera back on and put on her most gracious smile as soon as Toni Saint James appeared on the screen. 

“Can you see us now, Toni?  We’re really going to have to get someone in here to sort out the wiring.”

“ _Yes, Wanda.  I can see you fine now. Have you come to a decision?  I only ask because the ticket code is valid for twenty-four hours_.  _Neil and I would love to have you as our guests, and I’m sure Donna and Benedict will both be thrilled when they find out you’re coming. The Monday morning flight looks to be the most convenient for everyone because it gets in before noon with the time difference. Neil and I will pick you up at JFK. I was thinking we could hold off telling Donna and Benedict and surprise them on Thanksgiving.  What do you think?”_

“That is such a lovely and most generous offer, Toni.  One that I’m only too happy to take full advantage of.  You are too kind!” exclaimed Wanda.  “I adore the idea of surprising Ben!  However, I can’t speak for Tim as he may have filming commitments and…”

“I’ll manage to sort things out one way or another, Pet.  As you correctly pointed out to me, this is the only time our son will be getting engaged,” interrupted Timothy with resignation.  “We appreciate your offer of hospitality, Toni.”

_“I’m very glad to hear this,”_ smiled Toni.  _“I’m sure Neil will be, too, when I tell him you’ve accepted our invitation.”_

_I’m sure he won’t_ , thought Timothy.  _He was probably banking on us not coming over.  
_

_“Pa will be thrilled to the core.”_

_For fucks sake! I forgot about him_ , thought Timothy.  _Wanda will be fluttering around like a butterfly as he lavishes all those compliments upon her._

“I’ve got so much to do!” exclaimed Wanda.  “Ben did say you were having a cold snap, so I’ll make sure to pack our warmest things.”

_“Snow boots might not be a bad idea, if you have them,”_ said Toni. 

“We’ll ring off now and book the tickets.  I also have to prepare an ad to place in the London Times announcing the engagement,” said Timothy. “I’ll hold off on actually calling it in until we get the official news from Ben.”

“ _You just reminded me, Tim, I have to get after Neil to place an announcement in the New York Times as well!  Have a nice night, and we’ll talk soon!”_

 

*****************************************************

 

Antonia Saint James sat back and heaved a great sigh of relief as she turned off her laptop.  However, she was to find her relief short-lived as her daughter breezed into the kitchen with Pierre at her heels.

“Hi Mom!  Who were you just talking to?” inquired Donna.  “I could swear it sounded like Wanda and Tim.”

_Hmmm…shall I tell the truth or not?  In this case, I’ll go with the truth, but not all the details._

“It was them,” confirmed Toni.  “We’ve been trying to keep in touch.”

“That’s so nice to hear,” said Donna as she inspected the glass cookie jar her mother kept on the counter.  To her delight it contained elaborately decorated butter cookies cut in the shape of turkeys and pumpkins.  “I was hoping to find this filled with your Thanksgiving cookies!” she exclaimed, helping herself to one and taking a large bite. “Mmmm…yummy!”

“Well, I feel it’s important to keep the lines of communication open - especially if you and Benedict marry one day.  That will make us family,” continued Toni.  “It’s necessary that we get along with them – even your father,” she added with a roll of her eyes.

“I appreciate the effort, Mom.  I also think things are much improved ever since we had tea together in the Orangery.”

“Speaking of that day, Donna, do Wanda and Tim know that we know about the…um…you know.”

Donna ceased munching on her cookie and sighed. “You can say it, Mom.  The Plan.  Yeah, I told them; and they appreciate that you and Dad are going to keep the secret.”

“And Grandpa.  He knows as well.”

Donna’s eyes widened in horror at her mother’s words.  “Oh, Mom!  You never should have told him!” 

“I didn’t have to, Muffin. He was able to put two and two together just from observing everyone’s wacky behavior that afternoon that there was – as he put it:  a secret to mind.  He just couldn’t figure out exactly what it was we were all keeping from Benedict.”

“Crap.  Grandpa must think I’m a horrible person, and what about Wanda?  He idolizes her!”

“Believe it or not, Grandpa understands the why and how; aside from the fact that Wanda could do not wrong in his eyes even if she were to commit murder.  Though to be honest, he agrees with your father that you should tell Benedict before things get more serious than they already are.”

“I’ve tried, Mom!  I’ve tried several times now!  The latest attempt was only last week.  Benedict and I were talking about things that happened to us in the past that we weren’t proud of, and I decided it was a good time to bring up The Plan.”

“You didn’t tell me this!”

“That’s because there’s nothing of significance to tell,” explained Donna.  “Benedict knows I answered a Craigslist ad before we started dating and that he knew the person who placed the ad.”

“I can’t believe someone as nosy as Benedict would be content to let something like that drop!” snorted Toni.

“He’s convinced that his friend, James Rhodes, placed the article.”

“James Rhodes. Is he the skinny little pianist you were dating for a brief time with the glasses, beard and long hair?”

Donna nodded.  “Yep. That's Jimmy."

"He's got lots of emotional baggage as well."

"How did you know about that?"

Toni regarded her daughter with a raised eyebrow.  "Do you really need to ask that?"

"No.  Silly me. What was I thinking?  Just for the record, Jimmy's doing quite well now.  He's gotten his life in order."

"I'm glad for him."

"And even more glad for me.  You're relieved that I stopped dating him."

"I never thought I'd be admitting this; but Benedict is a far better choice of men. As you were saying, Muffin."

" _Anyway,_ Benedict just cut me off and said it wasn’t important to him.  The only thing that mattered to him was that we got together. He said what happened in the past needs to remain there, and we need to move on with our future.”

“Smart man. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

Donna helped herself to another cookie.  “What if he does find out one day, Mom?”

“Simple. You tried to tell him several times; but he didn’t care to listen.  You’re off the hook as far as I’m concerned – and you should just take Benedict's advice to put it out of your mind and move on.”

“That’s almost exactly what Wanda and Tim said; but I don’t feel like I am...off the hook.  I still feel like I have this weight hanging over my head, ready to drop at any time."

“It’ll be fine, Muffin. You worry too much.”

Donna munched on her cookie while Toni took the lamb chops out of the refrigerator.  Her mother began to laugh as she pointed at Pierre, who was sitting on Donna’s feet with his head in her lap. 

“Would you look at that dog!  He’s sitting on your feet!”

“Pierre’s been sticking to me like glue since I’ve been home.”

“That’s because he’s been missing you,” smiled Toni.  “He’s happy his mistress is back – if only for a little while.”

“It may be longer than you think.  The Tribune hasn’t gotten the extension for my work visa yet.  Apparently, things are backed up this time of year.  They said it might take another two weeks or longer.”

“I can call the British Consulate,” offered Toni.  “Pa knows someone there; so hopefully, we can help push it through on our end.”

“Thanks, Mom!  You’re the best!” said Donna, putting her arms around Toni’s shoulders and kissing her on the cheek.  “Good gravy!  You smell like Benedict.”

_Shit! His scent must have rubbed off on me when he hugged and kissed me goodbye.  The man had a heavy hand with his cologne this morning._

“I promise you that I haven’t changed my perfume,” joked Toni.  “And if I did, it wouldn’t be to Attimo.”

“How do you know Ben wears Attimo?”

_Because I admired the scent and asked him what it was over lunch.  
_

“Benedict isn’t the only one with a good nose,” retorted Toni.  “I’m very good at identifying scents.”

“Since when?” teased Neil, as he and Colin joined them in the kitchen. 

_Jesus, Neil, play along with me on this!  Don’t let me drown here with Sherlock Holmes on the case._

Donna sighed.  “I was just saying that I thought Mom smelled like Benedict…”

“Oh, that’s because one of those perfume sprayers got me while I was walking through Macy’s earlier,” laughed Neil. “She gave me a generous squirt.  Can you still smell it?”

_Hopefully, I smell like him, too, since he gave me a farewell hug_ , thought Neil. 

“I can faintly smell it on Mom,” replied Donna with a sigh.  “I guess I’m more attuned to it because I’m missing Benedict so much.”

“Oh, yes.  I can still smell it on you a bit,” Colin said, sniffing at Neil.

_Thank you, Darling Dear and Pa for covering,_ thought Toni with relief. _  
_

Pierre nudged Donna’s hip with his massive head.  “Look at him!  He wants me to scratch behind his ears.”

“I was just telling Donna that she can’t take Pierre home tonight being he has an appointment with the groomers tomorrow morning,” explained Colin.

“I think I’m going to take Pierre across the street for a walk in the park,” said Donna. "Are you keeping the key to the park in the same place?"

"Yes, it's still in the top drawer next to the fridge," replied Neil.

"Did you guys hear my idea about going to Olive's for dinner?"

"Unfortunately, I'm already in the process of making dinner; so we'll have to pass," said Toni. "There's plenty of food, so we'll just set another place for you. We're having lamb chops, twice-baked potatoes and your father's famous wedge salad."

"Oh, boy!  Pierre, did you hear that?  Lamb chops!  Sounds great, Mom.  We won’t be long," said Donna, attaching Pierre's leash to his collar and leaving the room.

The trio let out the breath they had been holding as soon as Donna and Pierre had left the kitchen.  Neil peered out into the living room.

“The coast is clear.”

“Damn!  That was a close call.  Thank you both for coming to my rescue,” said Toni.

“Pierre doesn’t have an appointment to be groomed, Pa,” pointed out Neil.

“He does now,” said Colin with a wink.  “I rang them up and made one whilst Donna was in the loo.”

“Well, are the Cumberbatches gracing us with their presence for Thanksgiving?” inquired Neil.

Toni nodded as she put an extra potato in the oven for Donna.  “Yes, they're coming.  Wanda was all for it; but Tim seemed to need some convincing. They had the mysterious loose wire problem again and lost the visual,”  she chuckled.  "I could hear them just find though."

“Goody,” said Neil.  “Just what we didn’t need – to have the house overrun by the Cumberbatches.”

“Brilliant!” burst out an excited Colin.  “I can’t wait to tell the chaps over at the Gramercy Park British Society.  I wonder if Wanda wouldn’t mind accompanying me there one afternoon so I could introduce her around.  Maybe we could screen some of her _UFO_ episodes and have a meet and greet afterwards.”

“Pa!  Wanda is here to celebrate her son’s engagement.  She’s not here to do personal appearances,” scolded Toni.

“I think it’s a splendid idea!” piped up Neil.  “I can just see the headline now:  Former British Starlet Comes to the Gramercy Park British Society.”

Colin frowned and narrowed his eyes at his son.  “Did you say ‘former’?”

“Would you have preferred I referred to Wanda as an aging starlet?”

“You’ve always been quick with the snark, Son.”

“Sorry, Pa.  I’ll even go as far as to guarantee that Wanda will be flattered if you invite her.  She’ll get all flustered and as giddy as a young…ingénue.”

“Everyone will be shocked to find her swanning amongst us. What a stonker of an afternoon that would make!  We can have an afternoon screening of her best _UFO_ episodes, followed by a meet and greet with tea and scones. And if Wanda were up to it, then she could pose for some photos and sign some autographs…”

“Pa, you’re getting carried away with this,” said Toni.

“Maybe Wanda could even give a little talk about her career-defining roles…”

“Hmmm…that would be a short talk,” Snickered Neil.

Colin glared at Neil.  “Wanda has had a long and distinguished career.”

“As a jobbing actor,” Neil reminded him.  “Long career:  yes.  Distinguished:  not particularly – in my opinion. Let’s face it, Pa; she’s best known for _UFO_. I’d stick to a cup of tea with photos and autographs afterwards if I were you.”

Colin nodded.  “You’re probably right.  Most of the women in the club also know her as Colonel Virginia Lake.  That was her most popular role.”

“Neil, please stop encouraging him!” said Toni.  “Pa, I really think you should consult with Wanda first prior to making any arrangements with the club.  She may not be thrilled with the idea.”

Neil barked out a laugh.  “Are you joking, Toni!  Of course she’ll be thrilled.  If there’s one thing actors – both young and old alike – enjoy more than anything is attention and the chance to be fawned over.”

“Well, that settles it then.  I’ll ring Wanda on Skype tomorrow and ask her if she’d fancy my idea of appearing at the club,” said Colin rubbing his hands together with anticipation.

Neil chuckled.  “Not meaning to play Devil's Advocate, but aren’t you forgetting someone, Pa?”

Colin’s face suddenly took on a guilty expression as his son’s words sank in.

“Oh, and Tim is welcome to join us as well.  I’m sure _someone_ will remember him.”

“Don’t count on it,” snorted Neil.

“I think you also need to invite Tim to join in this…appearance as well as Wanda. You don’t want to hurt his feelings, Pa.  Not to mention that he is, after all, an accomplished actor in his own right,” pointed out Toni.  “I’m sure he’s got fans in the club as well, especially amongst the ladies,” she added with a wink. "He's still a handsome man."

“Tim was pretty well-known for his role in _The Scarlet Pimpernel_ ,” admitted Colin.  “I’ve heard a couple of the women mention him from time-to-time.”

“Perhaps you’d be better served by screening something that Wanda and Tim appeared in together,” suggested Toni.

“I could arrange to show a couple of the episodes they were in of _The Lotus Eaters_ ,” said Colin grudgingly.  “That should appease everyone.”

“Thank you, Pa.  You know it’s the right thing to do.”

“You’re a tough one, daughter-in-law.”

“Tell you what, Pa,” said Toni Saint James.  “Let me know what the date is, and I’ll not only be there to act as the event photographer; but I’ll bake the scones as well.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Photo of what I imagine Donna's dog, Pierre, to look like.
> 
> 2\. I really wanted to include Wanda and Timothy in the engagement celebration.


	125. Chapter 125

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 1 - Benedict and Donna Get Engaged. Benedict pretends he’s in London. Donna gets a surprise delivery on her birthday. 
> 
> Note: I’ll be using ********* to indicate things happening at the same time.

 

 

Benedict Cumberbatch sat at a corner table in a Starbucks on Ninth Avenue in Chelsea at half seven o’clock on Friday morning.  He had picked this location because he could sit with his back to a brick wall, facing the bustling shop’s seating area and counter beyond.  

 _This is the best seat for pretending that I’m still in London.  Donna will only see a brick wall behind me. With any luck, no one will sit next to me and speak in their New York accents_ , thought Benedict as he signed into Skype and turned on the camera. 

_Ah ha!  Donna’s signed into Skype.  She must be expecting to hear from me, which shouldn't be a total surprise as it's her birthday. Let’s see…it’s noon in London, so I must endeavor to remember that.  It’s paramount that she thinks I’m across the pond for the next hour or so. Okay, Benedict, you can do this._

Benedict was momentarily startled by the sound of his Skype chime alerting him that he had a caller.  

 _Motherfucker!  Who on earth…oh.  It’s Carly._  

Carly was sitting at what must have been her kitchen table, wearing a pink terrycloth bathrobe with Minnie Mouse embroidered over her left breast.  It had also been personalized with ‘Carla’ embroidered underneath Minnie in fancy script.  Her face was devoid of makeup and her blonde curls were covered by a damp-looking towel turban, indicating that she had recently showered. 

“Good morning, Carly, and many happy returns of the day!”

 _“Thanks for the kind wishes, but I feel old,”_ she laughed.

“Thirty isn’t old,” scoffed Benedict.  “Besides you’re looking damn gorgeous for half seven in the morning.”

_“Thank you again and please feel free to keep those compliments coming.”_

“Is Steve still asleep?”

_“He’s in the shower.  Today’s the big interview at the hospital.”_

“Please tell him for me that I wish him well.”

_“Part of me hopes he doesn’t get an offer.”_

“I know.  I’ve sort of been hoping the same.  Donna would be terribly crushed if you were to return here to live.”

_“Part of me would be, too. Just when things are starting to take off for me in London!  Steve would prefer to remain in London; but he feels this opportunity might be too good to pass up.  Anyway, he wanted to at least interview with the Head of Orthopedics and see exactly what the position would entail.”_

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck. “Erm…I want to apologize for leaving straight after pudding last night, but I was having trouble keeping my eyes open, which was no reflection on the company.”

_“There’s no need to apologize, Ben.  Dealing with The Neil and Toni Show can exhaust even the most robust person.  I was going to say that you’re looking well-rested in spite of your…challenging experience with them.”_

“I bloody well should be,” laughed Benedict.  “I was so jet-lagged that I was asleep well before ten.  I’m feeling more like myself this morning.  So, do I look like I’m sitting in a Starbucks in London at midday?”

_“Actually, yes, you do.”_

“Brilliant.  Do you know if your sister is up yet?”

 _“You’re talking about Donna here. Let's see, she’s always been an early riser, it’s our birthday and there’s the promise of Norma’s Chocolate Decadence French Toast – of course she’s up!”_ laughed Carly.  _“Besides, knowing Donna like I do, she’s probably been waiting for you to call and wish her a Happy Birthday.  She’s missing you like crazy you know.”_

_And I'm missing the hell out of her as well._

“The feeling’s mutual, I assure you,” sighed Benedict.

_“Well, you’ll be reunited soon.”_

“I’ll take that as my cue to get cracking then.  Hopefully, I’ll see you later.”

_“I would if I were you.  Donna's impatience will get the better of her, and she'll try and call you. Good luck with the grand deception! Bye!”_

Benedict took a sip of his coffee, followed by a deep breath before clicking on Donna’s Skype icon in order to place the call.

 

********************************************************

 

After reading her emails, Donna Saint James had performed her usual morning ritual of showering, applying her makeup and blowing her hair dry.  Upon entering her bedroom, Donna anxiously checked her laptop once again and saw that Benedict was still not signed into Skype.  Disappointed, Donna decided to keep herself occupied by selecting her outfit for the day. She stood in front of the open closet aimlessly pushing around the hangars, on the pretense of looking for something to wear; but her mind was elsewhere.

 _Gosh, I expected that Benedict would have called by now!  It’s already afternoon in London.  Don’t these damn Sherlock show runners believe in giving the actors lunch breaks? Maybe they brought in sandwiches and are having a working lunch meeting. That would explain why Benedict couldn’t get away to make a call in private._ _I shouldn't complain, he did think to send me a Happy Birthday email overnight, which was sweet of him._   _Poor thing has been working so hard lately, but I guess that's good when an actor is in demand._

Donna had gotten up earlier than usual, excited that it was her and Carly’s birthday.  Her parents had called to confirm  that they’d meet her and Carly at Norma’s for breakfast at nine thirty.  Right after that, Wanda and Timothy had called from London to wish her a Happy Birthday via Skype.  This was followed by a call from Emily to assure Donna that all was running smoothly at Carldonn and to wish her a Happy Birthday as well.

_I think I’ll tune into the Today Show to see what Matt Lauer and Meredith Vieira are up to these days.  It’s sure to seem different after watching Good Morning Britain for almost a year._

Donna picked up the remote and turned on the large, flat screen TV that was mounted on the wall opposite the bed.  She selected Channel 4 and there was Al Roker, the _Today Show_ weatherman, just beginning the weather report. He was predicting a sunny start to the day with clouds rolling in by afternoon.  Snow was being forecast for the overnight into the morning hours.  How much was dependent upon the track the storm took.  Al’s best guess was to expect an accumulation of between four to eight inches of a light, powdery snow.

 _It looks as if we’ll be able to get everything done before the snow starts_ , thought Donna with relief.  _It’s a good thing Carly and I thought to stock our kitchens in the unusual event that we get snowed in tomorrow. Those forecasts are rarely right!_  

Donna had left her laptop signed into Skype all night in hopes that Benedict would call her when he got up.  Their call the night before had been brief and had lasted all of five minutes before he begged off, saying how exhausted he was from final _Sherlock_ costume fittings and meetings.  As Donna began to make the bed, she couldn’t help but take one last look at her computer screen.  This time, to her delight, Benedict’s Skype icon showed him as being signed in.  She quickly finished making up the bed and put on her panties and bra, eagerly anticipating the sound of the Skype chime. As soon as she had donned a black silk robe, her patience was finally rewarded as her computer alerted her to an incoming Skype call from Benedict. 

Donna grabbed the laptop off the dresser and settled on the chaise lounge by the window.  She clicked on the icon and there sat a smiling Benedict sitting at a table in what looked to be a Starbucks.

_“Hello and Happiest of Birthdays to you, my Darling!”_

 

********************************************************

 

Benedict’s nervousness quickly evaporated at the sight of his lover beaming at him from the computer screen.

“Hello and Happiest of Birthdays to you, my Darling!”

 _“Thank you!  It’s so good to see and hear you again.”_  

“It hasn’t been all _that_ long.  We only spoke last night for fucks sake!”

_“I know, but it was barely five minutes! Is it a crime that I miss you so much?”_

“No,” Benedict replied softly. “I feel the same way.  I despise the fucking five-hour time difference; and it doesn’t help that I can never seem to get it right.”

_“So, how long do I get the pleasure of your Skype company this morning?”_

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck and grimaced as he pretended to consider her question whilst consulting his watch.

_Well done me. I’m on schedule so far.  It’s paramount that I leave enough time to get to the subway and collect my order at the florist._

Benedict gave her a sad puppy look. “Unfortunately, just for a few minutes.  I’m on a much abbreviated…lunch break.”

_“So, the meeting isn’t over yet?”_

“Nope. The lot of them are eating Chinese takeaway in the conference room.  I wanted to wish you a good morning and happy birthday in privacy; so I came over here.”

_“I’m so glad you called before I went out for the day! I know I keep saying it; but I so wish you were here.  I miss you so damn much!”_

“I miss you as well, Love, and also wish I were there.  It’s seems an age since I’ve held you in my arms and felt your lips on mine, but I keep telling myself that we’ll be together in ten more days.”

Benedict saw Donna’s pretty face suddenly cloud over, and he suddenly felt a wave of uneasiness wash over him akin to a foreboding. 

_“Maybe not.”_

“Is there something wrong, Donna?”

Donna twirled a lock of hair around her index finger.  _“They haven’t renewed my Work Visa yet.  My current visa expires at the end of the month; and I can’t go back to England until they get off their asses and process it.”_

“Are you teasing me?”

Donna shook her head and her frown deepened.  _“I wish I were, Ben.  The woman who’s handling it at the Tribune said not to worry.  It seems this time of year there’s always a backlog; but it should be cleared up soon.  I may wind up having to stay here an extra week or two.”_

“Shit.” _I made sure to book the same flight as hers going back to London, so we could travel together._  

_“My thoughts exactly.”_

“Is there anything your mother can do?  Surely she knows someone on the legal staff at the British Consulate or someone who knows someone.”

 _“Oh, you know Mom well,”_ laughed Donna.  _“She was going to make some calls today while we’re out and about.”_

“I just thought of something, Donna.  I can ask Rob and Dennis if they happen to know anyone on this end who could move things along faster.  They’re both lawyers and one of them must have an acquaintance familiar with immigration law.”

_“That would be greatly appreciated, Ben Honey.”_

“Now, that’s something I sorely miss – being called Ben Honey,” sighed Benedict longingly.

_You're overdoing the pining away shit.  She'll notice something's amiss._

Donna smiled encouragingly at him.  _“As you say across the pond:  we’ll manage to sort it out.”_

_Okay. That's good.  She's trying to soldier on and be positive about it, bless her.  Then again, neither of us has much of a choice._

“Yes, you’re right, of course. Anyway, there’s no sense in dwelling on something that’s out of our control then. Besides you’ve got more important things to do today – like celebrating your birthday,” said Benedict, taking another sip of coffee.

 _“Hey!  I just realized you’re patronizing a Starbucks.  Are you cheating on Café Nero, Mr. Cumberbatch?  I’m going to have to call and notify them that you’re being unfaithful to their double macchiatos,”_ Donna teased him.

Benedict laughed.  “I must admit that I was struck with a huge pang of overwhelming guilt upon entering this fine establishment; but I’ve come to terms with it.  I’m actually rather enjoying this…yummy… concoction.”

_“You’re such a wiseass, Benedict.”_

“I was under the impression that yummy was the highest form of praise one could give food or drink.” He smiled and crinkled his nose at her.

_“Oh, it is!  What are you having that’s so good? Wait!  Let me guess…a double macchiato.”_

“Who's being the cheeky one now? So sorry to disappoint you, Darling; but I’m having something different today.  It’s called a pumpkin spice latte, and it’s quite tasty, too,” said Benedict, taking another sip and smacking his lips for emphasis.  “Mmmm…yummy.”

“Since when do they have pumpkin spice lattes in London?” asked Donna, raising an eyebrow at him.  “I was just in a Starbucks before I left, and pumpkin spice lattes were definitely not on the menu.”

 _For fucks sake!  I had no idea the bloody things weren’t available in London!_  

“Of course they have them!” snorted Benedict. “I’m sitting here drinking one, aren't I? You just didn’t take notice is all or the barista didn’t know what they were talking about.”

 _“Oh, believe me, I would have noticed that,"_ retorted Donna. _"You know I don’t go out of my way for coffee drinks; but I always make an exception for the pumpkin spice latte. That drink is absolutely sublime. I’ve had one almost every day since I’ve been home.”_

_Brilliant.  Just my motherfucking luck.  Think, Benedict, think…tell her something that sounds plausible. Oh!  I know!_

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck and gave her a bashful smile. “Erm…Come to think of it, you’re right as usual.  I just recalled reading a sign that was posted near the till stating that not all London locations are offering it.  I bet the one near Saint Paul’s is one of them, otherwise you certainly would have seen the sandwich board heralding its arrival outside the store. The barista in the Hampstead shop told me they're having a trial run at select locations to see if Londoners fancy it.  If it proves popular, then it will be put on their holiday menu.”

_Well done, Benedict. That sounded believable.  She even looks convinced._

Donna nodded.  _“Well, I hope London embraces the pumpkin spice latte; because that would make me a very happy lady!”_

 _And I’m going to make you so happy you’re going to forget all about that bloody fucking drink._  

“So…erm…how is the weather in New York?  It’s been awfully nice here the past couple of days – sunny and rather warm for this time of year.”

_“That’s odd.  I was just talking with your parents on Skype earlier.  They called to wish me birthday greetings and were saying how cloudy and cold it’s been. Your father remarked that it had been raining heavily all day.”_

A cold chill ran up Benedict's spine at Donna's words.  He set the coffee cup down and tugged on his earlobe as his mind worked frantically.

_Fuckity, fuck, fuck!  I’m such a dolt.  Why didn’t I think to check the weather back in London before opening my big mouth.   I need to turn on my mouth filter and keep the bloody thing on. The less I say, the better off I am. I need to remain calm and think of something plausible...but what?  Oh, I have the perfect explanation!_

“Oh!  I believe it," Benedict quipped. "Gloucestershire is over an hour’s drive from London.  The weather is often quite different up there. It's always colder in the fall and winter, and they often get accumulating snow when we don’t.”

 _“They weren’t at their country home, Ben. They were calling from their apartment in Kensington.  I’ve been there enough times to recognize their living room when I see it. That Fleur-de-lys wallpaper on the wall next to their computer is a dead giveaway,”_ snickered Donna.

_Why did Mum and Dad have to bring up the weather? More importantly, why didn’t I think to ask them what the weather was or better still – look it up on my mobile? I’ve been so preoccupied with making sure tonight is perfect that I didn’t think of these little details that I’m now getting called out on. Fuck me!_

“Imagine that!” exclaimed Benedict with mock surprise. “The storm must be slowly coming up from the south towards Hampstead.  I guess we should be seeing the rain here any time now.  Wait a minute. Ah…ha…I just took a look outside, and it is starting to cloud over.  I’m sitting in the back of the shop, so I haven’t noticed the sudden change in the weather.”

Donna pursed her lips as she studied his handsome face with a slight frown.

_Shit.  I know that skeptical look.  She’s wondering what in the fuck I’m trying to hide._

“You told me the _Sherlock_ meeting was going to be held at a rehearsal room in Central London in order to be close to where the costume fittings were taking place.”

_My fault for falling in love with a clever and observant woman who actually listens to every damn rubbish thing I say!  This is what I’m like when they call me Barrister Ben.  It’s frankly annoying as hell._

“You must be confused, Sweetheart. I was talking about _yesterday’s_ meeting, not _today’s_ meeting," declared Benedict in a patronizing tone. "They decided to hold it here in Hampstead because it was actually closer for most of the cast given their various locations."

_"Hmmm...that's odd.  Una lives in Kensington from what your mom told me, Andrew's in my building.  I could swear you said most of the cast live in and around Central London except for Martin Freeman, who lives out in Hertfordshire."_

_"_ That's right.  Martin and I live the farthest away; so being we're the stars of the show, they're catering to us."

_"I don't recall you're saying the meetings were being spaced over two days."_

_Of course you don't because I never said that.  Bless her most excellent memory._

"They weren't originally.  We ran over yesterday, hence the one today. Not that it matters in the grand scope of things yes?"

_"But..."_

_Motherfucker!  She's certainly a credit to her nickname of Sherlock Holmes, bless her. This is getting utterly exhausting! Time to change the subject!_ "So, what are you doing today?”

_“I should be getting dressed.  Carly and I are meeting our parents at Norma’s for our traditional birthday breakfast.”_

“I won’t keep you then.  I also should be getting back to the meeting before Sue sends someone over to Starbucks to come fetch me.” _  
_

_“I miss you and love you, Benedict.”_

Benedict crinkled his nose at her and smiled.  “Same here.  Have a super lovely day, and we’ll chat again soon.  Cheers!”  Then he blew Donna a kiss before signing off and shutting down his laptop.  He rested his elbows on the table as he closed his eyes and massaged his temples.  _Christ!  I'm glad that's over!_

“So, how _are_ things in London, Ben?  Shame on you for not having your brolly by your side when rain is imminent!”

Benedict looked up to see Tertius Bune coming to stand before him, holding a large paper cup of coffee and a small bag containing a pastry.   He wore an amused expression on his face.

“Sod off, for fucks sake! How much did you hear?”

“Enough to know that you almost cocked things up,” Tertius chuckled.  "And that it's raining in London," he added with a smirk.

“I didn’t know one could only get a pumpkin spice latte in the States and the fucking weather was shite in London!” 

Tertius laughed louder.  “You can be such a dumb wanker at times.  Give me your laptop, and I’ll take it back to my flat. What time do you expect to drop by to collect your things?”

“If all goes to plan, I’m thinking somewhere around noon,” replied Benedict, packing up his laptop.  “Hopefully, you can come meet Donna and have a coffee with us.”

“Hmmm…somewhere in Bene-speak means there’s a two-hour window either way. I’ve a pretty tight schedule today; but if I can squeeze in time for a quick coffee, I will,” said Tertius.  “Otherwise, you can leave the key on my dining table when you're done; and we’ll just meet up one day next week.”

“I’ll ring or text you when we’re on our way over.”

“You’d better get going if you intend to intercept Donna before she tries to head out to breakfast.”

“Thanks, Mate,” said Benedict getting to his feet and handing his laptop case to Tertius. “I really appreciate this.”

“Do you have the ring?”

Benedict patted his inner jacket pocket.  “Right here.  Just think, Tertius, in just a few more hours, I’ll be an engaged man.”

 

 

Half an hour later, Benedict Cumberbatch stood on the sidewalk in front of 127 East 65th Street holding a vase full of roses in varying shades of pink and heart-shaped balloon.  He took in the structure before him with his mouth agape.  The pristine, four-story, beige brownstone with black trim boasted a two-car garage of its own; in addition to what appeared to be an apartment on the ground floor that had its own separate entrance. The black window boxes were filled with small ornamental cabbages, pumpkins and flowers, whilst the front door was adorned with a wreath that complimented the window boxes. There were terracotta pots holding yellow, orange and red mums on every other step leading up to the front door, which had a leaded glass fan-shaped window above it. 

_Jesus Christ! I’d hate to see what they spent at the garden center on such lavish outdoor decorations. Maybe I have the wrong address?  Nope.  This is definitely the address Steve gave me last night during dinner.  I knew this was a posh area; but I wasn’t prepared for this.  I need to hear the story as to how they came to live in such a magnificent townhouse. I don’t know how Donna can afford to maintain a flat here as well as the sublease in London._

Benedict mounted the steps and saw there were two doorbells – one marked  Apartment 1 and the other marked Apartment 2.

 _I wonder which apartment is Donna’s.  I do know she’s got a roof terrace, so it must be Apartment 2. I see they have a security camera mounted above the door, so I’ll need to cover my face with these flowers, lest she recognizes me. It probably wouldn’t be a bad idea if Bob and I were to have a security camera installed over our front door. I should speak to him about it to see if he’d be receptive to the idea. We could split the cost._  

As Benedict prepared to press the doorbell for Apartment#2, the front door swung open to reveal Steven Cipriano, who was obviously on his way out.  The young doctor was dressed in a black cashmere top coat with a charcoal grey scarf and black dressy leather gloves. Steve was carrying a brand-new black leather brief case, which he set down as he dug into his pocket for a tip before accepting the delivery. 

“Weren’t you just here, Joey?” Steve chuckled. “I would have taken the van out of the garage if I were you rather than walk back and forth twice in this cold.”

“Well, first of all – I’m not Joey; secondly, I just got here,” replied Benedict, lowering the floral arrangement so Steve could see his face. “Thirdly, I hope you’re generous with gratuities, because I could sorely use the money.”

“It depends on who you ask,” laughed Steve.  “Carly will tell you I’m very generous.  Neil will tell you I’m cheap.”

“How do you like my camouflage?”

“I had no idea it was you behind that wall of flowers.  Jesus, Ben. That’s some big bouquet!”

“I figure if I hold it like this in front of my face, Donna won’t be able to see that it’s me on the camera,” explained Benedict.

“What are you going to do about your voice?  It is very distinctive.  I’d recognize it anywhere.”

“How about now?” asked Benedict, lapsing into a Texas drawl.  “Would you recognize my voice, if I were to use this accent?”

“No,” replied Steve, shaking his head in awe. “That was remarkable!  I can’t believe how effortlessly you did that.”

“I had to perfect a Texas accent for a show I was in.  I played an American cop.”

“Donna won’t know it’s you.”

“You thought I was from the florist, so I trust my flowers arrived for Carly then?”

“Yes, you prick!  Thanks for making me look bad with your perfect two dozen long-stemmed yellow roses, not to mention a birthday balloon as well!  Carly was floored when the guy delivered them.  All I’ve heard for the last fifteen minutes is how thoughtful you are and how lucky Donna is.”

“Erm…you could have arranged to have flowers delivered this morning, too,” pointed out Benedict.

“I was going to pick up flowers on the way back from my interview. I was having trouble falling asleep last night and decided to postpone buying flowers in favor of some extra shut eye.”

“You’ll just have to outdo me then and make sure to bring home three dozen roses,” snickered Benedict.

“Yeah.  I’ll also stop at Teuscher and pick up some of their champagne truffles as well.  I always get both Carly and Donna a box each on their birthday.  Carly loves the dark chocolate ones and Donna prefers milk chocolate.”

“You’re looking very smart,” observed Benedict, eyeing Steve up and down.

“Thank you.  I can’t believe the butterflies in my stomach!  I could barely get down a slice of toast.”

“I know you’ll do fine today.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.  I should be leaving now.”

“Is Carly still at home?”

“No.  You just missed her.  She decided to walk over to the restaurant where she’s meeting the Neil and Toni show.  Oh, just so you know, you’ll be on your own when you go back to your friend’s place to pick up your stuff.  Carly couldn’t find a way to talk Donna out of her manicure and pedicure; without giving you away.”

“So I’ll have some free time in between breakfast and tea,” mused Benedict.

“Exactly.”

“I could probably use a lie down by then.”

Steve turned and locked the door.  “I’m expecting to be done before noon.  Text me if you need help with your stuff.”

“Aren’t your in-laws expecting you for lunch at MoMA?”

“Yeah, but the reservation isn’t until one thirty.  I should have time to give you a hand.”

“I wouldn’t feel right keeping you from seeing the exhibits beforehand.”

Steve raised a gloved hand.  “I’m not a huge fan of modern art.  They all stand there and marvel at the artist’s talent and the message he or she is trying to convey; and all I see are four empty yogurt cups glued to the wall. Last time Carly and I were there, some woman had a dozen shoe boxes and their contents arranged haphazardly in the middle of a room beside a chaise lounge shaped like a shoe.  My wife saw art, but I saw nothing but disorganization and a place to rest.”

Benedict burst out laughing.  “It’s quite all right!  Modern art isn’t to everyone’s taste.  Just remind me not to invite you to the Tate Modern then.”

“You can invite me to the Tate as long as there’s the promise of a meal in their restaurant afterwards.  That’s the secret of how Carly gets me to go to MoMA with her.  It’s the lure and promise of lunch in their café.”

Benedict raised an eyebrow at Steve. “You can be bribed then, Doctor, yes?”

“Absolutely, and I make no bones about it.”

“I was actually hoping Donna would accompany me to MoMA one day whilst I’m here.  Maybe I should reconsider and go to the Guggenheim instead.”

“Another place I hate going to,” groaned Steve.  “No, I think you should go to MoMA.  They have Monet’s waterlilies and a lot of Van Gogh’s paintings, which might interest you since you just got done playing him in that movie.  His Starry Nights is on display there.  I shouldn’t lie, MoMA isn’t all bad.  Their café has this ridiculous chili-crusted macaroni and cheese that is to die for; and the gift shop across the street is also interesting.  I’d better get going; I don’t want to be late for my interview.”

“Good luck to you. I guess it’s time for me to set my plan in motion.”

“Just let me clear the steps and sidewalk, Ben.  The camera can focus that far.” 

 

************************************************

 

Donna Saint James finished wrapping Carly’s birthday present and gathered together her coat, gloves and handbag when the front door buzzer sounded. 

_Hmmm…I wonder who that could be.  I’m not expecting anyone._

The security camera showed a tall man standing on the front stoop, holding a pale blue porcelain vase containing a huge bouquet containing different varieties of pink cabbage roses along with a pink heart-shaped balloon that said “Happy Birthday”.  She could only see the top of the man’s head, which was covered by a flat grey wool cap. 

_Ohhhhhh…it looks like I have a delivery from the florist! This day just keeps getting better and better!_

Donna pressed the intercom button and spoke into the speaker.  “May I help you, Sir?”

 _“I have a delivery for Donna Saint James in Apartment 2,”_ replied the man in what sounded like a Texas drawl.

_Hmmm…that’s not the voice of the kid who usually makes the deliveries.  Maybe whoever sent the flowers used a different florist. I have a feeling I know who sent those roses!  My honey must have arranged for them to be sent.  How sweet and thoughtful of him!_

“I’ll be right down,” said Donna excitedly, opening her handbag and wallet to extract a tip for the delivery man. 

 _“Not a problem, Ma’am,” replied the man, sounding bored._   “I’m not going anywhere.”

 

***********************************************************

 

Donna rode the elevator down to the ground floor and dashed towards the front door.  She peered through the peephole and could see the deliveryman was waiting patiently on the stoop as she hurriedly unlocked the door, keeping the tip in the palm of her hand. 

“Sorry to keep you waiting out in the cold,” Donna said apologetically as she turned off the alarm and opened the door. She held out her hands to take the vase and balloon from the man. 

“Think nothing of it, Darling.  I’d wait all day for you if I had to,” said Benedict as he slowly lowered the vase to reveal himself to her.

Donna’s eyes widened in shock and surprise as she froze and stared at the man she loved uncomprehendingly for several seconds.  His eyes looked blue-green in the morning sunlight and twinkled with merriment as he stood grinning from ear-to-ear.  She immediately stepped out onto the stoop and kissed him on the lips, tears of joy in her eyes. 

“Benedict!  Oh my, God!  You’re not in London!”

“Nope.  I’m right here in New York.”

“I- I can’t believe it’s you!!!  I – I – I just spoke with you on Skype not more than half an hour ago!”

He winked and crinkled his nose at her.  “I did tell you that we’d chat again soon, did I not?”

“You bastard!" Donna laughed, playfully smacking his arm. "Where were you calling from?”

“In a Starbucks over on Ninth Avenue, near Chelsea Market.  I hopped on the subway right after I rang off.  Erm…it’s getting quite cold out here.  Maybe we could continue our conversation inside where it's warmer?”

“Of course!  It is freezing out here. Please come in!”        

Benedict followed Donna into the entrance hall and set the vase and weighted balloon on a long table that was against the wall.  He heard her close and lock the door behind him.

“Now, come here and greet me properly!” demanded Benedict, opening his arms to her.

Donna embraced him tightly as their lips met in a series of heated kisses that lasted for several minutes.  He tasted of coffee and spices and smelled of Attimo.  Finally, the couple paused to catch their breath. 

“God, how I missed you,” breathed Benedict, resting his forehead against hers.  “I’ve thought of nothing else for the past several days.  It’s heaven to be in your arms again and to feel your luscious lips against mine.”

Donna hugged him even tighter. “I can’t believe you’re here, Ben.  I was just thinking how much I wished you were here – and here you are!  Wishes do come true!”

“Have I managed to surprise you then?” he inquired innocently with a lop-sided smile.

“YES!!!!  Oh my, God!  Did you ever!  That accent had me fooled – I had no idea it was you.  I thought the florist hired a new delivery person."  Donna reached up and patted his cheek. "I still can’t believe you’re standing right here in my vestibule!!!!”

"I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere. Promise." Benedict removed his cap, gloves and coat.  “Ah, it’s nice and toasty in here.”  He paused to study his reflection in the mirror that hung over the table and ruffled his hair, which had flattened under the cap. To his disgust, the errant curl stubbornly fell back onto his forehead.

“Oh, my gosh! Just wait until Carly and Steve find out you’re here!” exclaimed Donna, knocking on the door to their apartment.  “They won’t believe it. Carly and I are supposed to be leaving to go out to breakfast with our parents in a few minutes.”

“They aren’t home, Donna.  I met Steve on the steps when I arrived, and he said Carly had already gone to meet your parents at another restaurant…Sara something.  It’s on Central Park South, and she decided to walk.”

“Sarabeths.  Wait a minute.  We were supposed to all go to Norma’s at the Parker Meridien and look at their Gingerbread display afterwards.”

_Ah, yes.  The Gingerbread House competition.  A Saint James family tradition._

Benedict flashed a guilty smile and crinkled his nose at her.

“You and I are going to Norma’s. We have a booking for nine thirty.  I’m afraid I cocked up everyone’s plans by showing up unannounced.  It’s a long story; albeit one that has a happy ending.”   _  
_

_I hope to God._

Benedict smiled again and gave her the nose crinkle. Then he rubbed the back of his neck.

_Oh, boy.  He gave me the nose crinkle and lopsided smile twice. Then comes the neck rubbing, which is a sure indicator that something's making him uncomfortable. This is going to be one hell of a story._

“Let’s go upstairs and you can fill me in.”

Benedict picked up the vase and balloon.  He looked at the staircase. “Up there yes?”

“We could if you don’t mind climbing two flights of stairs.  There’s a private elevator that goes straight up to my apartment.  Carly’s apartment is spread out over the first and second floors, and mine over the third and fourth.  I highly recommend the elevator for first-time visitors, even if they are as fit as you are.” 

“Lift it is then,” said Benedict, following Donna down the hallway.

The entrance to the elevator was cleverly hidden by what could have been just a door to a room or closet.  Donna opened it, and Benedict stepped into a cubicle that looked as if it could hold six people comfortably.  The door silently slid shut, and Donna pressed the button to begin the short ride to the third floor.

“The flowers are gorgeous, Ben; and I love the balloon.  Thank you!”

“You’re welcome. Erm…what’s the fiver for?  Were you planning to tip me?” Benedict indicated the folded five dollar bill that she was still holding onto.

“I always tip the delivery people,” said Donna. 

“You’re quite the generous tipper,” observed Benedict dryly. “Perhaps I should start making all my deliveries to you in person.”

Donna stuffed the bill into the pocket of her pants and smiled flirtatiously at him. 

“This isn’t for you, though.  I plan on thanking you in a way that doesn’t involve money.”

"So you plan on using a different kind of currency yes?"

"That it does.  Your favorite kind of currency, as you often refer to it."

“Does it involve sex?”

“What do you think?”

“I think there’s a chance we might be late for our booking at Norma’s,” smiled Benedict Cumberbatch as he eyed her lasciviously.

 

 

 

Benedict lay on his back in Donna’s queen-sized bed, eyes shut as he waited for his heart to stop pounding and his breathing to return to normal following his climax.  He could feel himself beginning to return to his flaccid state as he listened to Donna’s ragged breathing starting to ease beside him. 

“Did you enjoy your tip, Ben Honey?”

Benedict opened his eyes and turned his head towards her.  Donna’s hair was fanned out on the pillow and her bare breasts were still heaving a bit from their exertions of the past several minutes.  He smiled lazily at her and nodded.

“Very much so.  I really must make it my business to deliver more things to you in person.”

“I agree.  You’re special delivery was very enjoyable. Two mind-numbing orgasms…mmmm…Happy Birthday to me.”

“I counted three:  Two in bed and one when I shoved my hand down your trousers in the elevator.”

“Oh my gosh!  That one in the elevator completely caught me off guard, you naughty man.  I barely had time to enjoy it.”

“That was the idea – to catch you by surprise.  I want to complement you on having the presence of mind to unzip my trousers and try to get me off at the same time; but I couldn’t allow you to.  I wanted to last until we got to the bed.”

“I think I succeeded in getting you primed and ready pretty quickly.”

“And you did do an admirable job of it, not to mention that having my fingers inside your luscious cunt and feeling how excited you got sped things along for me.”

Benedict sighed contentedly as Donna turned onto her side and reached out to gently rub the area between his belly button and pubic hair, causing him to shiver.

“Christ that feels amazing.  Such a pity it's not enough to trigger another orgasm.”

“Do you want to try again?”

“As much as I’d like to, I still need time to recoup; and that would make us miss our breakfast booking.  I’d like to propose a short cuddle before we have to go.”

_And later on I’m going to propose marriage to you, which should lead to even more spectacular sex later tonight.  Oh, Benedict for shame.  Always thinking with your knob.  
_

“I’ll never turn down an offer to cuddle!” Donna snuggled against Benedict and moved her hand up his torso to toy with his pale chest hair.

“Mmmm…this is lovely…the two of us together like this,” he sighed softly.  “It seemed like an age that we’d been apart.”

“I can’t believe we went at each other like that just now!  I don’t think we’ve ever had such fast and furious sex. It lasted less than ten minutes from foreplay to finish.”

_Bloody hell! She timed us, bless her.  I need to remember to turn that damn clock so it faces away from her._

“I don’t recall either of us needing much foreplay,” mused Benedict, stroking her hair.

“The elevator groping counted as our foreplay.”

“We were missing each other terribly and needed to get off.”

“We were giving into our primal urges like two wild animals.”

“And it was just what we both needed yes?”

“Definitely!” 

Benedict buried his nose in Donna's soft, shiny hair and took a whiff.  “You changed shampoos.  This one smells of rosemary…and… chamomile with a touch of honey.”

“Your nose is correct once again," confirmed Donna. She planted a trail of kisses down his neck.  "Do you want to hear something strange?  Yesterday I kept picking up your scent on everyone!  I first noticed it on my parents…”

Benedict felt a chill at her words.  _Not as strange as you may think, my love.  That’s because I hugged both of your parents goodbye yesterday._

“…then Carly came up when she got back from dinner last night, and again…”

_Your sister smelled like Attimo because she had just gotten done hugging me as well._

Donna suddenly stopped and looked at him through narrowed eyes. “Wait a minute.  They smelled like you, because they were all with you at one point yesterday. You didn’t just hop a plane and fly over here on the spur of the moment, Benedict.”

_It’s a damn good thing Antonia texted me a warning that Donna had picked up on the Attimo last night._

Benedict smiled and crinkled his nose at her.  “I believe the term is ‘busted’.  I flew in on Wednesday with Steve.”

“You’ve been here for two days and didn’t tell me?  Where have you been staying and why not tell me?”

Benedict rolled his eyes and laughed uneasily.  “I would have thought the answer would be obvious, Love.  I wanted to surprise you on your birthday, and the flight out on Wednesday was cheaper.”

Donna considered his words for a moment and nodded.  “Where are you staying?  Please don’t tell me Carly and Steve have been hiding you downstairs all this time right under my nose.”

“I’ve been staying with Tertius, and sleeping in the most uncomfortable single bed ever. I’m totes spoilt from my nice, big, comfy bed at home.”

“Well, we’ll have to remedy that. I insist you stay here. After breakfast, I’ve got an appointment to have a manicure, pedicure and facial; so that will give you plenty of time to get back and forth and unpack.  I’ll make some room in my closet and drawers for your things before we leave and give you a key and the alarm code.”

“Thank you.  I appreciate it.  Would you fancy hearing my plans for the rest of the day then?”

“Shit. I mean, yes, of course I do…except my parents have made plans for the whole day and night.  They have lunch planned at MoMA and tickets to a play tonight…”

Benedict raised a slim hand to silence her.  “You and I are going off on our own today, Donna.  I spoke with your parents yesterday about my surprising you, and it’s all been sorted. They are fine with it and are going to soldier on with Carly and Steve.”

_That’s what you think, Ben Honey.  I bet they were livid to have their plans altered.  They hate that!  It also sounds to me like you sprung this on them at the last minute.  No wonder you were rubbing your neck._

“As long as you’re back by four at the latest because I have a booking at the Mandarin Oriental Lobby Lounge for their Nutcracker Afternoon Tea for half four.”

Donna’s eyes lit up at his words.  She leaned in and kissed him tenderly.

“Oh, Benedict, what a nice surprise!  That’s on my list of things to review for my column!  I should be back by two at the latest.”

“I thought we could have a wander around the Columbus Circle Christmas Market before we go.”

“We can even go afterwards. They are open until eight.”

“Erm…no, we can’t.  I’ve got tickets for us to see the Nutcracker tonight after our tea.”

“Did you say we're going to see the Nutcracker?"

Benedict nodded.  "Yes. You did mention that it was your favourite ballet."

"It is!" Cried Donna.  "This day can't get any better."

 _Oh, yes it can,_ Benedict laughed to himself. 

Donna frowned.  "Hmmm…they had dinner planned at Bouley after the show. We might be able to rendezvous with them there.  The whole family was coming and…”

Benedict gave her his sad puppy dog face.  “So terribly sorry to have to disappoint you, but we have a booking after the ballet at Restaurant Daniel…in the Skybox.”

Donna’s mouth dropped open.  “Did you say the Skybox?”

Benedict pretended to be perplexed.  “Yes, I did.  It’s the private dining room in Restaurant Daniel that overlooks the kitchen. Do you not fancy going there?"

"The Skybox," Donna repeated in awe. She looked at Benedict quizzically.

“Are there more than one?” Benedict inquired innocently.  “Perhaps I booked the wrong location then.”

“No.  There’s only one Skybox.”

“That’s a relief to hear.  I was afraid that I had somehow misunderstood and gotten it wrong.”

"Nobody just calls up and reserves a table for the Skybox!  My parents only got to eat there because my Uncle Angelo is somewhat of a regular there."

_And that is exactly how I got the booking for a Friday night. Uncle Angelo came to the rescue, bless him.  Anything to make his niece happy, he said.  
_

"If you'd really rather we meet up with your family instead; I could cancel the booking…”

“FUCK NO!!!  Are you kidding me, Benedict Cumberbatch??  I’ve been _dying_ to eat in the Skybox!  It’s nearly impossible to get a reservation for it.  You have to know Daniel Boulud himself or have a connection…and they don’t offer the table on Friday or Saturday nights…I read that they prefer a party of four, but will consider two.  How on earth did you manage that?”

Benedict smiled smugly at her.  “Let’s just say that I have my sources.”

_And his name is Angelo.  Steve put me in touch with him, and Angelo was only too happy to make the phone call on my behalf, bless him. Daniel was very gracious about making an exception and allowing me to book the table on a Friday night._

_This is getting interesting…Benedict obviously had planned this trip out in advance.  He also had to have had help.  I favor Carly and/or Steve for his partners-in-crime._

“How long has Carly known about this?”

“She only found out last night when I had dinner with her and Steve.  We thought it best that she find out at the last minute, so as not to risk her coming out with it.”

_So, my brother-in-law was his sole partner-in-crime; which explains how he got the table at Daniel and how they came to be on the same flight together.  Steve put Ben in touch with Uncle Angelo, who made the Skybox reservation well in advance.  Benedict was obviously plotting this for the past few months, and amazingly there wasn’t a mouth filter malfunction.  Interesting how my honey can keep a secret when he wants to._

“If there’s one thing my sister can do is keep a secret.  She excels in that, unfortunately.”

“Oh, come now, Love.  You wouldn’t want to have the ultimate surprise ruined now, do you?”

“There’s _more_?” asked Donna excitedly, playfully poking his arm. “What are you holding back?”

_Yes, and I fear I may have just given it away.  Fuck me and my forever malfunctioning mouth filter.  
_

“I told you everything.  There’s nothing more to tell, Sweetheart.”

“I think you’re bullshitting me, Benedict.  You’ve got that expression on your face that you get whenever you’re trying to hide something.  Come on, now, out with it!”

“I swear there’s nothing,” Benedict laughed nervously raising his hands in mock surrender.

“Alright.  Have it your way!”  Donna leaned in and began to tickle his ribs. 

“Hahahahahah!  Stop that!” yelped Benedict, trying to pull away.  “Fuck it!  Hahahahha!  Christ, stop that!  I detest being tickled!  Damn you!”

“What’s your big secret?  Tell me, please!  I hate secrets!” _  
_

“Stop being a twat!  Hahahahhahha!   You know I’m a bit ticklish there!  Stop, Donna!”

“Tell me please!  I can’t stand not knowing! I wont stop until you tell me, damn you!”

“Jesus Christ!  Hahahah!  Stop that I said!  Pleasssssseeee stop with the fucking tickling!  Ah hahahah!  I…said…NO!”  Benedict violently pushed away from her, only to find himself on the floor.

“Motherfucker!”  He bellowed.

Donna scooted across the bed and peered over the edge.  Benedict was lying spread-eagle on the floor, tangled in the soft, Velux blanket that he had inadvertently dragged over the edge with him.

“I’m so sorry!  Are you alright, Honey?”

“Yes.  I’m fine.  I forgot this bed was a lot smaller than what we’re used to in London when I went and launched myself off of the bloody thing,” he giggled.  “Now, are you going to leave me be or do I have to reciprocate?  I know for a fact that you have extremely ticklish feet , and I know where to tickle for the optimum effect.”

_Oh, he's right.  My feet are very ticklish, and he knows just where to do the tickling._

Donna raised both hands in surrender.  “You win.  No more questions.”

Benedict climbed back into the bed and propped the pillows against the headboard.  The he and Donna arranged the blanket back over the sheets.  He sat back against the pillows, drawing the covers up to his waist.  Donna tugged her side of the blanket up to cover her bare breasts and sat beside him, resting her head on his shoulder.

“I’m really sorry about that, Ben.  I always let my curiosity get the best of me."

"You need to practice better self control, Darling."

"I find that funny coming from the man known to his family and friends as Barrister Ben."

"Touche."

"Part of me is still itching to know though.”

“Let’s not be a greedy girl now, shall we?  I was going to tell you that I already divulged the entire surprise to you.  What more do you want?”  He teased.

“You just made it sound like there was something else.”

“Oh, you know how flighty I can be! My coming to New York was the bloody surprise.  I meant that if Carly knew I was here and knew all the details, she might have inadvertently told you.”

_You’re now waffling your way into oblivion here, Benedict.  It’s time to shut up._

“Carly did see me after she was with you.”

“And she didn’t give anything away, bless her. Carly has demonstrated beyond a shadow of a doubt that she can keep a secret.”

“Damn, her,” laughed Donna.  “I’m so happy you’re here.  I also can't believe all the nice things you have planned. This little surprise must have cost you an awful lot of money.”

_Oh, you haven’t a clue and you don’t want to know how much this surprise is costing me.  It’s a good thing I put all the extra money aside I made from the voiceover work.  Thank God, I’ll be getting some more money in soon once Sherlock commences filming._

“It’s not for you to worry about the cost, Love,” he said gently.

“I truly appreciate that you’ve gone to so much trouble to make this day extra special for me, Benedict; but I don’t want you to go into debt to pay it off.  Let me help you with some of the expenses.  It would…”

Benedict felt himself suddenly bristle at her words.

_Motherfucker!  I know she only means well, but to offer to help pay for her own birthday treats is not what I want to hear._

Benedict shot a glare at her.  “Thank you for the kind offer, but there will be none of that!” he said curtly.  “I don’t wish to hear another word on the subject ever again. Is that understood?”

_Jeez Louise, I really went and hit a nerve that time.  I just don’t want him to be spending all of his money on me when it’s not necessary.  I’m just thrilled to the core to have him here.  I’d better shut up about it and trust that he knows what he’s doing._

“I promise not to mention the cost again.  Girl Scout’s honor!” declared Donna, raising her hand in the Girl Scout salute.  “Better?”

Benedict’s face immediately softened, and he lowered his voice to a more gentle tone.  He took Donna’s hand in his and kissed the back of it.  “Sorry for being stropy, Donna.  I really do appreciate that you don’t want me to go in over my head, and I haven’t.   Let me assure you that I’ve carefully budgeted and saved for this day for quite a while. Not to mention the exchange rate is happily in my favour when making my purchases here.”

“How long has this been in the works?”

“This trip has been in the planning stages for the past three months. So no more questions about my finances yes?”    

“As I said before, I won’t mention it again.”

“I just want you to enjoy all your lovely birthday treats.”

“Oh, I am enjoying them so far.  I love having you here – it’s like a dream come true.  Not to mention the beautiful flowers, the balloon and all the other things you have planned.  The best part for me is being able to share them with you.  I can never thank you enough for putting this together for me.”

“I’m still accepting tips at this time,” said Benedict with a cheeky grin. “Snogging and shagging are both acceptable forms of currency.”

“I thought you needed time to recoup.”

“I feel very much recouped…and stiff.”

Donna cocked an eyebrow at him.  “Hmmm…I’d better check on that. Excuse me for a moment.”  And with that she ducked her head under the covers.

Benedict felt her fingertips ghosting along his no longer flaccid member, from base to head, followed by a series of soft gentle kisses along the length of his shaft, ending with a couple of flicks of her tongue to the tip.

“You’re right.  There are definite signs of recoupment,” came her muffled voice from under the covers.  “Shall I continue?”

_Shall she continue?  Fuck, yes!   Swallow me whole for fucks sake!_

“Yes, please,” he replied demurely.

Benedict felt Donna gently push his foreskin back with her tongue and lips. Then she began to move her hand up and down his shaft and grazed her mouth against him.  He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the padded headboard in order to savour the pleasurable feelings. She flicked the head of his penis with the tip of her tongue, circling the head agonizingly slowly; stopping each time she elicited a moan from him indicating that she had hit his sweet spot. Suddenly, Benedict felt Donna very gently glide the surface of her teeth along his shaft, followed by the feeling of her tongue sliding along afterwards.

“Christ!” he gasped.  “That feels fucking amazing! Ahhhhh!”

_She’s never done anything like that before! I want more of it!_

He felt her fingertips gliding along his inner thighs, gently caressing the highly sensitive area until he began to quiver from the sheer excitement.  Next Donna moved her hand to his scrotum and gently cupped his balls in the palm of her hand, while continuing to tease his glans as she had done before.

_I want…NEED to feel that move she did with her teeth and tongue again!_

“Am I making you feel good, Ben Honey?  Tell me what you want.”

“More of the teeth if you don’t mind…that felt…indescribable…yes… fuck me…YES…YES …oh fuck…yes…I love this…it feels so good… yes…that is just brilliant…oh…oh…oh… this…feels fucking amazing!”

Donna smiled to herself as she listened to his moaning as she did as he requested.   She could feel his arousal growing as his passion steadily increased.

_So, he really does like this!  Excellent!  I know we promised each other to be extra careful when using teeth, and I will make sure not to do any biting._

“Does it feel good, Ben Honey?”

“What do you think?” he growled impatiently.  “Please…now!  I’m getting close.”

_I think I want to see what’s going on down there. Watching her go down on me always enhances the experience for me._

Donna felt the covers suddenly lift and a rush of cool air wash over her naked body.

_What in the hell is he doing?  I want to keep him guessing what my next move will be. Oh, he wants to watch because he gets off on it.  Not this time._

“Please drop the covers!” she commanded sharply. "I'm cold!"

“Since when?" he demanded.

"I'm not kidding.  Drop those covers now, please!"

"Don’t stop! I’m so close! My God…I can taste it…I’m starting to get those tingles.”

“Then please drop those damn covers!”

“I want to see what you’re going to do next!”

“You’re not supposed to – that’s the idea.  Now, relax and enjoy yourself!”

“I am enjoying myself a little too much…I’m so fucking close!!”

“That’s the idea. Now, drop the covers or I'll stop!" she snapped.

Benedict sighed and let the covers fall back on top of her.  He was surprised that he had felt himself stiffen even further at her harsh words.  Her tongue lapped up the warm, salty drops of semen that had leaked from his slit before swirling it around the tip of his penis and underneath his foreskin, causing him to moan loudly as his fisted the sheets. Donna could feel his cock throbbing and his hips beginning to involuntarily buck as if searching for a place to thrust himself inside. 

“That’s much better.  I can feel the difference already. Thank you for your cooperation,” came her voice from under the covers. “And from the feel of things, your glorious dick is thankful, too. Mmmm…I love how huge you are right now…quite a mouthful…mmmmm...yummy!”

“More of the foreskin…AHHHHHH!  That’s lovely! Perfect!  OH FUCK OH FUCK OH FUCK!”

Benedict felt his heart hammering and his toes begin to curl as Donna returned to using her teeth to graze him whilst stroking his swollen balls.  Then she began to suck him in earnest, which pushed him over the edge.  It barely took a minute for him to reach his climax.

_Okay, Donna, the article said to very lightly tug on his balls right before he's about to climax.  I think now’s the time._

_Motherfucker!  That feels heavenly…like I’m drifting out of reality…I think I may swoon!  
_

_Should I try and swallow his semen or spit it out?  Damn…I forgot to take some Kleenex under here with me.  That’s what I get for doing this on the spur of the moment. I’ll try and get it down.  I know he’d love that._

Donna felt Benedict tap her shoulder urgently, which was his signal that he was about to climax.  He groaned loudly and babbled something totally incoherently as he further tightened his grip on the sheets, pulling them taut over her head.  Then Donna felt his body shudder and jerk as the warm, bitter, salty semen filled her mouth in spurts. 

_I can do this.  I can swallow.  It’s only a couple of teaspoons after all._

“I love you so, Donna,” she heard him shout above her, followed by more incoherent babbling. 

_I want to do this for him.  He should be just about done.  
_

“I feel like I’m going to swoon…I...I...I....ahhhhhhh...my Donna....ahhhhhh.”

_I can do this.  He would really love it if I did._

Donna could feel her gag reflex beginning to kick in.

_No, I can’t. It may only be a couple of teaspoons worth; but this stuff is absolutely disgusting.  He must have been drinking a lot of coffee. Ugh!_

Benedict lie there as the waves of pulsating pleasure engulfed him.  All he could think about were the intense exquisite sensations that were spreading throughout his groin area.

_My God, this is nirvana.  I love that floaty feeling I get when it’s this good.  Ahhhhhhhhhhhh._

As he ceased ejaculating, he could feel Donna release her lips allowing him to pull out of her mouth.  This was followed by an abrupt whoosh of cool air near his feet as the covers were pulled out from underneath the mattress.  He opened his eyes to see Donna trying to slide down and out of the bed.

 _Shit! I’m not going to make it._ _My choices are to spit all over my nice bed linens or make my man happy and swallow.  Today I’m going to suck it up and opt to make Benedict happy._  Donna bravely swallowed the mouthful of semen and covered her mouth.

_Blimey!  She just swallowed by God!  I must have been hallucinating._

Benedict released his grip on the covers so Donna could get up and go to her night stand.  She retrieved a flat tin of candy, shoved a piece into her mouth and chewed gratefully.  She was suddenly aware that he was watching her through hooded eyes.

_She really did swallow this time.  No retching, no gagging.  I’m impressed. Perhaps she’s developing a taste for it._

_Oh…this is without a doubt the most horrible-tasting stuff I have ever had in my mouth.  Haggis and limburger cheese were more palatable than his semen.  Ugh!  I don’t think I will ever be able to stomach it._

Donna smiled at Benedict and slid back into bed.  She lie on her side to face him.  She ran her fingers through his thick, curly auburn hair, tugging gently on his follicles. He smiled at her and sighed contentedly at the pleasant feelings she was causing.

“I love you, Ben Honey,”  She whispered in a husky voice and kissed him.

“I love you, too,” he purred. “Mmmm…don’t you taste divine? What kind of candy was that?”

“Williams and Sonoma Peppermint Bark.  They only have it during the holidays, but we’ll make sure to stop in and get you a box to take back to London,” Donna replied as she stopped rubbing his scalp and got him a piece of the candy to try.

Benedict ate and candy and nodded approvingly.  “Mmmm…oh yeah.  I must have a tin of this.  Now that that’s been sorted, as you were please.”

Donna began to massage his scalp again. “I just love the color of your hair… my mom has commented on how much she likes it.  I had to correct her though because she said it was ginger.”

“It’s got streaks of red in it, definitely. It’s also got streaks of bronze and lighter colours and darker brown colours.”

“It’s beautiful,” Donna said, carding her hand through his thick, lustrous curls.   _I hope our children have his color._

_I hope our children have her colour._

“Well, you’d better enjoy my natural colour whilst you can. I’m going to have to dye it dark by New Year’s. My eyebrows as well.  I already have an appointment with a colourist in the salon I go to.”

“I think you look very handsome with dark hair as well.”

“It’s not like I have a choice.  It’s written in my contract.  Sherlock must have dark hair.”

“I hope that was a satisfying tip.”

“That was sublime, Darling.  Absolutely sublime. Where in the hell did you learn that lovely little maneuver with your teeth?” Benedict asked, lying there limply.  “I felt like my thighs would turn to jelly.”

“This month’s Cosmo.  It was their sex tip of the month. Guaranteed to make your man’s toes curl with lust; and in case you didn’t notice, yours did.”

“Oh, I noticed,” snickered Benedict. “I never felt anything quite like that in my life.”

“It just goes to show that you can use teeth and not hurt your lover if done gently enough.”

“True! You must add it to your oral sex repertoire.”

Donna smiled proudly. “I will. I wanted to surprise you with it.”

“And you did.  You are a credit to the author of that article.”

“I know you like to watch; but I thought it would be fun to add the element of surprise.”

“I do fancy watching, true. However, there was something very exciting about not knowing what you were going to do next.  I enjoyed it very much, as I’m sure you noticed.”

“Oh, I did.  I noticed that when I started doing that, you got extra hard and even larger than you already are.”

Benedict hung his head and managed to look at her coyly. “I’m not _that_ large…average at best.”

_Oh, Benedict, you’re fishing for compliments from her.  I should be ashamed._

Donna lightly traced his swollen pink cupids bow lips with her index finger and leaned in to kiss him.  “I’ll tell you a little secret,” she whispered into his ear. “You may be average in size, but you’re well above average when it comes to your capabilities in bed. That’s what counts the most as far as I’m concerned when it comes to your pleasuring me.  You use every inch to the fullest and have never… _ever_ …disappointed me.  You are an amazing lover.”

_And now Mr. Cumberbatch will bask in the glow of the positive review I have just given him.  I wonder if all actors want a review of their sexual prowess after every romp in the hay. Benedict has hinted in a subtle way that he wants and expects one.  I suppose its positive reinforcement, which I’m only too happy to give him as it benefits me, too._

Donna gently nibbled on his earlobe, giving Benedict chills up and down his spine.  He smiled at her, satisfied that he continued to please her in bed.

_I’m such a tart for having my ego stroked, and I’m not ashamed that I am.  I fucking love it and relish every word, and she knows it._

“Thank you, Darling. You should write in to Cosmo and tell them that their tip of the month was a huge success.”

Donna raised herself up on her elbow.  “Good gravy!  Your socks wound up on the lamp!”

Benedict turned his head to look at his bedside lamp.  Both of his socks were on top of the lampshade. “Shame on you for tossing my clothes about like that with reckless abandon, Miss Saint James.  I see my pants wound up on your dresser and my trousers on your chair.”

“I recall you tossing my things around as well.  Aren’t those my panties stuck to the window blinds?”

“That’s what happens when two people are in the throes of passion like we were,” mused Benedict.

“Are those your owl birthday socks?”

“Yes.  I thought I’d wear them in honour of your birthday.”

Donna laughed and gave Benedict one last, lingering kiss.  “Come on, let’s get cleaned up; and I’ll give you a quick tour of the place before we leave for Norma’s.  I promise you a breakfast unlike any other you’ve ever had before!”

 _And I promise you a night unlike any other you’ve ever had before, my darling,_ thought Benedict Cumberbatch, hiding an amused grin.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Next week is the actual proposal chapter. :-)
> 
> 2\. Benedict's hair would be much longer than in the photo I used; but I liked his smile in this one. It's the way I visualize he would have smiled when lowering the bouquet of flowers.
> 
> 3\. I've gone to the Nutcracker Tea at the Mandarin Oriental, and it was fabulous! You also don't have to buy ballet tickets, but they do offer it as part of a special package.
> 
> 4\. The Williams and Sonoma peppermint bark is scrumptious.
> 
> 5\. While doing some research, I found that the pumpkin spice latte at Starbucks was not offered overseas in 2009. 
> 
> 6\. Up until recently the Parker Meridien Hotel held an annual Gingerbread House Contest/Display in their lobby for local hotels and bakeries in NYC, sadly it was not there this year.
> 
> 7\. Norma's is a ridiculously wonderful breakfast/lunch restaurant in the Parker Meridien. The food is unique, delicious, with humongous portions and shockingly high prices.


	126. Chapter 126

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Benedict and Donna get engaged – Part 2   
> Timothy and Wanda have some fun with Benedict. An anxiety-ridden Benedict finally pops the question! 
> 
> Note: I’m going to use ******* for things happening at the same time.

 

Benedict Cumberbatch stood in Donna Saint James’ light and airy kitchen, impatiently rummaging around in her cabinets for tea to no avail.  He sighed with annoyance, placing his hands on his hips as he tried to recall where Donna had said she stored her tea.

_Bloody hell!  Where on earth was it that she said she kept the tea?_

After breakfast at Norma’s, Benedict had collected his belongings from Tertius’ flat and returned to Donna’s brownstone.  He quickly unpacked his things and treated himself to a lie down whilst plugging in his laptop to recharge its battery. Upon waking refreshed an hour later, Benedict had a leisurely wander around the duplex apartment and roof terrace.

_Oh, for fucks sake!  I’m such a knob.  It’s in the canister marked ‘tea’._

Benedict removed the lid from the canister and grimaced at the sight of nothing but Lipton tea bags.

_Ah, plenty of decaf ‘regular’ tea.  I’m going to have to find a local tea shop and buy my darling some proper tea.  Especially, since I’m going to be staying the week. I did see a teapot in one of the cupboards, but no loose leaf tea to be found anywhere.  I bet she just dunks those blasted bags in the pot a couple of times and calls it a day whenever she makes tea for more than one person.  
_

The Skype chime on his laptop sounded, alerting him to an incoming call from his parents.  Benedict had brought the laptop with him to the kitchen with the intent of checking his emails whilst he had a cup of tea.

_Mum and Dad must be anxious for an update.  Hmmm…it’s only six in London; so they’re a bit early. This time difference has been a real bugger for all of us._

Benedict answered the call to see his parents sitting side-by-side at their computer desk in the lounge.  They both smiled at him, and he could see the excitement in their eyes.

“Hi Mum, Dad!”

_“How’s it going so far?”_ asked Wanda anxiously. _“Was Donna surprised when she saw you?”_

_“Do you think she suspects anything?”_ inquired Timothy.

“Well…”

_“Did you remember to buy Donna a decoy birthday gift?”_ interrupted Wanda.

“I stopped…”

_“Even if it’s a small token to throw her off the scent,”_ continued Wanda briskly.

_“I heartily agree with your mother, Ben. You must give Donna a gift or she’ll begin to wonder what’s going on,”_ added Timothy. _“She’s every bit as nos…curious as you are.”_

“You were going to say nosy, Dad,” Chuckled Benedict. “Admit it.”

Timothy gave him a smug smile as Wanda continued speaking.

_“Your father’s right, Ben.  It would be only natural to give Donna a birthday gift on her birthday.”_

“Wow!  You two certainly have a lot of questions,” laughed Benedict, shaking his head. “And are right full of suggestions today.”

_“Your mother was just curious to see how things were shaping up,”_ clarified Timothy, casting a sideways glance at Wanda.

Wanda glared at Timothy.  _“You were the one who suggested we Skype call him to make sure he remembered to buy a gift or maybe that was your twin.”_

“Well, in answer to your questions:  Yes, Donna was very surprised to see me.  No, she doesn’t appear to suspect anything’s off as far as I can tell.  There was a moment where she became suspicious when we were in…when we were talking about how I got here; but I managed to cover my tracks fairly well.”

_“What about a gift?”_ persisted Wanda.

Benedict nodded and smiled proudly.  “That was all taken care of yesterday, Mum.  I popped into Burberry’s and bought Donna a cashmere scarf.  It dawned on me whilst I was walking past the store that I’ve never seen Donna wearing a scarf.”

_“Perhaps she doesn’t fancy them,”_ suggested Timothy.

_“They weren’t together during the winter,”_ retorted Wanda.  _“So how would Ben even know if she fancied them.”_

“Perhaps I’m the one best suited to answer that,” laughed Benedict.  “It was the beginning of February, which counts as winter. Granted, it was a warmer than usual winter; but I never once saw Donna wear one.  Even now that it’s been getting colder at home, I’m the one who’s always wrapped up in a scarf.”

Timothy stared at Wanda pointedly with a raised eyebrow.  _“Well, then?”_

“Oh, crumpets, I see what you mean. However, I don't think there's a real need to worry,” Benedict assured them. _“_ I had come across one in the drawer she keeps her gloves in.  It was a woolen one and looked as if it had seen better days, so I thought I’d buy her a proper scarf.”

_“Did you make sure to buy some festive wrapping paper for it? You can’t just present her with an unwrapped box.”_

“I didn’t have to, Dad.  The salesman wrapped it for me.”

_“I bet that was pricey,”_ mused Timothy.

_“Those posh shops always have complementary gift wrap,”_ retorted Wanda.  _“It’s built into the exorbitant prices they have the bollocks to charge.”_

“For what I paid for that fucking scarf, that gift wrap should bloody well have been gratis,” quipped Benedict.  “Granted, it’s not what I’d call extraordinary; but it’ll do.”

_“What’s wrong with it?”_ asked Wanda anxiously.

“Nothing’s _wrong_ with it, Mother,” Benedict replied irritably. “It’s just a gold box embossed with the Burberry logo, covered in gold on gold striped paper with a matte gold bow wrapped around it that’s also embossed with the Burberry logo. Frankly, if I had more time, I could have done a better job myself.”

_“There’s no need to be stropy, Benedict,”_ sniffed Wanda. _“We’re every bit as excited and concerned as you are that things go perfectly for you tonight!”_

“Sorry, Mum.  I do know that your concern is for my happiness, and I appreciate it.  My anxiety level is approaching an all-time high, I’m afraid. I’ve been rehearsing my proposal speech, and the closer the clock hand moves towards this evening, the worse it’s becoming.”

_“Ben, I have every confidence that all will go according to plan, and you will return to Donna’s home as her fiancé tonight,”_ Timothy said soothingly.

There came the sound of the tea kettle whistling in the background.

“Excuse me, the kettles just boiled,” said Benedict.   He angled the laptop so they could see him making his tea.  “Welcome to the cow kitchen!” he laughed, pointing to a cow tea kettle.  “I half-expected the fucking thing would moo; but as you can hear, it doesn’t.” 

_“It hardly looks like a cow kitchen from what I can see,”_ observed Timothy.

_“It looks like a very nice kitchen.  Pick up your laptop and show us around, Ben,”_ instructed Wanda.

Benedict removed the kettle from the burner and poured water over a tea bag that rested inside a large blue ceramic mug decorated with black and white cows.  Then he turned his back briefly to set a timer to brew the tea.  “As you can see,” he said holding up the mug. “The only tea served in this flat is what Donna calls regular tea, sans caffeine,” he shuddered.

_“Donna loves tea,”_ commented Wanda.  _“I surely would have thought she’d have some kind of loose tea for company.”_

Benedict snorted.  “I sincerely have my doubts that loose tea has ever graced this kitchen.”

_“How about the coffee?”_ inquired Timothy. _“I would think a food critic should have an excellent selection of coffees and teas on hand in their own home.”_

“You got that half right, Dad.  Donna’s got decent quality ground coffee, but again, it’s all that decaffeinated shit.  I’m going to go out and lay in some loose leaf tea and caffeinated coffee to keep here.”

Wanda picked up her line of questioning.  _“Have you heard from Donna’s parents since yesterday’s luncheon inquisition?”_

“Nope, I’ve been blessed. They’re too busy soldiering on with their original birthday plans sans Donna.”

_“What was Carly’s reaction when she found out you were in New York and why?”_ asked Wanda.

“And you people have the audacity to call _me_ Barrister Ben? You should bloody well hear yourselves!” Benedict cackled.

_“You’ll have to indulge us, Son.  Your mother and I are chomping at the bit for some information.  It makes us feel as if we’re a part of this.”_

“Carly very nearly fell off her chair when I walked into the restaurant,” chortled Benedict.  “I was afraid that she would text Donna that I was in town; but Steve and I quickly explained the purpose of my visit.  She was absolutely over the moon for us and went mad for the ring.”

_“Are you quite certain she won’t drop a hint to Donna?” They do live in the same house after all."_

“Quite, Dad.  Carly wants Donna to be surprised as much as I do, so she won’t give anything away,” said Benedict, glancing behind him.  “And now allow me to further demonstrate to you why I refer to this as the cow kitchen.”  

Benedict glanced behind him again.  “And the first reason should be in 3…2…1…” 

There came the sound of a cow mooing loudly in the background.

_“Hells bells!  Where is that coming from?”_ exclaimed Wanda.

Benedict picked up his laptop and aimed it at one of the walls. His parents could see that there was a cow clock mounted on the wall in the dining area.  “It moos on the hour… _every_ hour, except when it’s dark in the room, and then the light sensor shuts the sound off.”

_“That would drive me to distraction,”_ laughed Timothy.

“It’s like being in a farmyard.”

_“I think it’s rather cute,”_ said Wanda.

“You would with your bird clock,” retorted Benedict with a smirk.

_“To be fair, Ben, a clock, some mugs and a kettle hardly constitute a cow kitchen.  You made it sound as if it were so over the top.”_

_“Says the woman who’s the proud curator of a barn owl kitchen and worse.  I've come to think of Gloucestershire as our own private owl sanctuary,”_ joked Timothy.

“Oh, but I’m not done yet!” hooted Benedict as he began to walk about the kitchen.

Wanda and Timothy’s eyes followed their son to a large, restaurant-sized gas range and double wall ovens.

“Here are the cow oven gloves and matching pot holders and tea towels…there is a cow creamer and sugar bowl in that glass-fronted display cupboard along with more of these lovely blue mugs and a matching tea pot.  In this drawer we have not only a cow-shaped wooden cutting board, but a glass one as well – see the cow’s head that is surrounded by a wreath of sunflowers…this drawer has the coordinating coasters and table mats. Just about everything is all adorned with bovines…and this is a cow-print apron for when she cooks.”

_“The girl really does fancy her cows,”_ snickered Timothy.

“Wait!  You’re going to love this!” said Benedict, raising a hand.  There came the sound of a cow mooing once again.

_“Now, that was a different cow,”_ observed Wanda. _“Where is this one and why is it mooing?”_

_“Just might it be notifying you that your tea is finished brewing?”_ inquired Timothy, trying to suppress a laugh.

Benedict pointed to a cow egg-timer that sat on the counter beside his mug.  He set down his laptop and removed the tea bag.  "And you would be correct, Dad.  It seems there are bloody cows hidden everywhere in here!” he exclaimed.  _“_ Oh, lest I forget, there’s a vase with cows on it that she uses to hold her cooking utensils.”

_“Hmm…I see what you mean,”_ agreed Timothy with amusement.  _“It could be worse though.  Donna could have had a fondness for something bizarre like rodents.”_

“The rodent kitchen is downstairs,” snickered Benedict.  “Carly has a fondness for Mickey and Minnie Mouse; ergo a Disney-themed kitchen and loo.  She gave me a quick tour of her and Steve’s flat right before they left to have their nails done.  I honestly don’t know which is more terrifying,” joked Benedict.  “The farmyard or theme park décor.”

_“Hopefully, Donna won’t be moving any of it to London once you set up house together,”_ said Wanda.  _“It would be very expensive to ship everything over.”  
_

_“She can always buy suitable replacements in London,”_ retorted Timothy.

“We haven’t gotten that far yet. Hell, we’re not even officially engaged yet.  We’ll sort that all out once the excitement of being engaged settles down.  I really wish you two were here to celebrate with us.”

_“As do we,”_ said Wanda, feigning disappointment.  _“We’ll celebrate once you two get back.”_

_“We were talking about hosting an engagement party for you and Donna over tea at the Orangery.  We could have it next month, if you’re both agreeable to the idea,”_ said Timothy.

_“We were thinking of the all you can eat Chinese buffet on Gerard Street that we fancy. There’s a vast selection, and they have Peking Duck on Saturday nights,”_ Chimed in Wanda with growing enthusiasm.

_“If we get the party package, it’s all the soda and tea one can drink; so we'll save on the bar bill,”_ added Timothy.  _“Plus they have a nice variety of puddings on the buffet as well, so we can make do without an occasion cake.”_

“Mum! Dad! Please!  For fucks sake!  Not that cheap buffet!  I’d rather you do nothing.  _Really!_ I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but the thought of hosting a party there…”

_"Well, now that you mention it, you sound very ungrateful. Such a haughty attitude is that, Benedict,"_ snapped Timothy.

_"How cheeky of you, Benedict.  I'm frankly shocked at your reaction!"_ added Wanda.

"Jesus Christ!" muttered Benedict.  "I'm sorry if I upset you, but..."

_"But are we really shocked, Pet?"_ Timothy asked Wanda.

_"Not at all actually!  It was just what we were expecting and were hoping for!"_

Benedict blinked uncomprehendingly as his parents both burst out laughing and high-fived each other.

_“Brilliantly done, Pet!  You really had him going there,”_ laughed Timothy.

_"Honestly, Ben, you're so bloody predictable!"_ chortled Wanda, leaning against Timothy.

“Erm…but I…aren’t you…I thought…” stammered Benedict, adding some milk to his tea.

_"Did you see how all the colour drained from his face, Love?”_

_“The part about the soda and cake was a nice touch as well, Love. I wish you could have seen your face, Ben!”_ whooped Wanda.  _“You were totes gob smacked!”_

"Bloody hell!  Have you two been sitting there taking the piss all this time? demanded Benedict.

_“Of course we were,”_ replied Timothy, wiping tears from his eyes. 

_“Your father and I know how much you abhor the buffet.”_

_"Your mother and I were in a silly mood and thought we'd have some fun at your expense, Son.  Please forgive our frivolity."_

“I don’t dislike it, Mum, Dad.  It’s just that I don’t envision it as an intimate party venue.”

_“Oh, but your wrong!”_ exclaimed Wanda.  _“Lots of people do hold parties there. All that aside, I want to assure you that we do plan on throwing you and Donna a proper party at a proper venue you won’t be ashamed of taking her to.”_

“Well, I don’t want you to spend a fortune on a party either,” said Benedict.  “Maybe we could just have a nice dinner for the immediate family and a cake at a restaurant.  The Stag has a private room upstairs that they let out for parties.”

_“Not to worry, Ben,”_ Timothy assured him. _“We’ve had money set aside for an engagement party for you and your intended.  It won’t be anything too fancy. We thought either a cocktail party or sit-down dinner in one of the private rooms at the Garrick Club would be appropriate.”_

_“It would be a lovely way for Donna to meet all of the family.  Of course, you are welcome to invite whichever friends you fancy as well,”_ continued Wanda.

“Thank you, both. That actually sounds like a splendid idea,” smiled Benedict. “I’m sure Donna will be over the moon when she hears.  You can tell her when we call to officially tell you of our engagement.”

_“God, I can’t wait!”_ Sighed Wanda. _“Feel free to call us no matter how late you get in.”_

_“Feel free to call us first thing in the morning – London time,”_ retorted Timothy.

Benedict set down the laptop and went to the refrigerator.  “Pardon me whilst I get something to nibble on.  I’m feeling a bit peckish. It must be nerves.”

He removed a plastic container and got a small plate from one of the cabinets.  Then he scooped up some of Donna’s leftover French toast and popped the plate into the microwave to heat it.

_“What’s that you’re having?”_ asked Wanda.  _“It looks chocolatey to me.”_

“Oh, it is the richest chocolate concoction I’ve ever had; and it is ridiculously delicious.  It’s called Chocolate Decadence French Toast.  If I recall correctly, they make it with a chocolate yoghurt loaf cake.  The cake slices are prepared in the same way that you would French toast.  Then they cover it this warm, fudgy, dark valrhona chocolate sauce and top it with strawberries, pistachio nuts and chantilly cream. Christ, I sound just like Donna lately! Anyway, I took a picture of it for her column before we devoured it, so you’ll get to see it close up.”

_“It looks like you two didn't do it justice. There seems to be a lot left over,”_ observed Timothy.

Benedict nodded.  “You forget, Dad. I’m in America – land of tremendous portions and takeaway bags.  I’m forever being asked if I fancy having my uneaten food wrapped up.  There’s another container in the fridge with my leftover breakfast – banana macadamia nut pancakes with brown sugar banana butter.  They gave me a pitcher of maple syrup big enough for three people.  I could barely manage to eat half of it.”

_“Where can you get this French toast?”_ Wanda inquired innocently.

“Norma’s.  It’s in the Parker Meridien Hotel on West 56th Street.  They even have some sort of Gingerbread house competition going on in the lobby for the holidays.  Donna and I had a wander through it afterwards.  It’s amazing what some of these pastry chefs can do.”

Benedict didn’t notice his father taking notes on a small pad.  When he was done, Timothy nodded at Wanda that he had gotten all the information.

_"Are we going to get a visual tour of the rest of the flat before she comes back or not?”_ demanded Wanda.

_"Heaven forbid Donna think we're nosy - I mean curious - or anything of the sort,"_ said Timothy, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, and I’d best do it now as I’ve got to shower and get dressed for my big night,” said Benedict.  “By the way, are those your suitcases I see in the foyer?”

_“You don’t miss a thing, bless you,”_ quipped Timothy. 

_“I had no idea you could see into the foyer from here,”_ whispered Wanda, turning around to look across the room. _"Bloody hell."_

“I can see most of the lounge, straight back to the foyer.  The balcony and dining alcove are out of my range of sight.  So, where are you going? ”

_“Gloucestershire,”_ replied Wanda.

_“Galaxidi,”_ replied Timothy at the same time.

Benedict frowned and suspiciously regarded them with a raised eyebrow.  “So far we've established that your destination is somewhere that begins with a 'G'.  Which is it then or are you now taking separate holidays?”

_“Gloucestershire,”_ insisted Wanda, glaring daggers at her husband.

“Then why on earth would you be taking all those suitcases?  You’ve got plenty of clothes already there,” declared Benedict.

_“Wanda, Love, have you forgotten that we decided on Galaxidi last night? I realize you had your heart set on a country getaway; but I properly reminded you that the weather in Greece is much nicer this time of year,”_ replied Timothy, patting Wanda’s hand. 

Wanda barked out a laugh and pushed her sleeves up over her elbows. _“Of course, you’re right, Tim!  For some strange reason, I just can’t seem to get Gloucestershire out of my head! Hahaha!”_

“I’ll ask the same question,” said Benedict, sipping his tea. “Why in the devil are you taking along all those suitcases to Greece?  You’ve already got clothes stored in that house as well, so you don’t have to schlep all that shit along whenever you fancy a holiday there.”

_“Because we’re staying much longer than usual,”_ clarified Wanda.

“Your ‘usual’ is the whole winter, Mum!” blurted out Benedict.  “I thought you wanted to throw Donna and I an engagement party, yet now you’re telling me you’re going to Galaxidi for over two months.”

_“We’re coming back next Saturday,”_ interjected Timothy.

“I’m confused as fuck then.”

_"That makes all of us,"_ muttered Timothy under his breath.

Wanda and Timothy exchanged looks.

_“We’re only going for two weeks,”_ said Timothy quickly.

_“I’m sorry if I gave you the impression that we were staying longer,”_ added Wanda.  _“We’re bringing the luggage as we wanted to change up some of the clothes we’ve been keeping there.”_

Benedict nodded and rubbed the back of his neck.  “It’s too bad I couldn’t talk you into abandoning your plans and flying across the pond to New York instead.”

_“Isn’t it just,”_ agreed Timothy sadly. _"We'd love nothing more than to be with you both."_

_“It’s much cheaper to fly to Greece, Ben, than it is to New York,”_ Wanda reminded Benedict, suddenly realizing where the conversation was headed.

_“We also don’t need to book a hotel in Greece,”_ pointed out Timothy. _“I’m so sorry to have to disappoint you, Son; but it’s out of the question.  The airfares are non-cancellable, non-refundable; because we got such a good deal.”_

"And just how good was this deal?" asked Benedict, forking up some French toast.

_"Good enough that we thought we'd be fools not to take advantage of it,"_ replied Timothy.  _"I'll forward the email with the billing info if you really must see it, Barrister."_

"No. No, that's alright, Dad.  I believe you."

_“Unfortunately, the hotels in New York are every bit as pricey as the ones here,”_ remarked Wanda.  _“You know we’d love nothing more than to be there with you, Dear,”_ She added in earnest.

Benedict’s face suddenly lit up with a huge smile and he snapped his fingers.  “I’ve got the solution.”

_“Have you now?”_ inquired Timothy, side-eyeing his wife warily.

“I know what you’re going to say, but hear me out…”

_Hells bells, Sherlock Holmes has come up with the perfect solution, and I’m willing to stake my life that it has to do with staying with either Donna or the parents,_ thought Wanda.

“… of course you’ll have to forfeit the airfare; but you just said it didn’t cost all that much…”

_“It cost us enough, Benedict,”_ snapped Timothy. _“Enough that I won’t consider cancelling.”_

“Please let me finish, Dad!  I’ll reimburse you for the bloody airfare – that’s how much this means to me.  Donna has a guest room here.  I’m sure she’d welcome you with open arms to stay with us.”

_“We wouldn’t hear of it!”_ exclaimed Wanda, pretending to be horrified. 

_“You’ve spent enough money already, Ben,”_ chimed in Timothy.

_“Your father’s right, Ben.  Your offer is very generous and tempting; but we just couldn’t accept. Besides, you and Donna should be alone.  How romantic would that be with us wandering about? I can tell you in two words: not very.”_

_“It doesn’t make sense for us to come over for a couple of days,”_ explained Timothy.  _“Believe me, Ben, we’d like nothing more than to share in this happy time with you; but it’s just not practical.  I hope you understand and aren't too terribly disappointed.”_

Benedict sighed resignedly as he picked up his laptop.  “I suppose you make valid points.”

_“By the way, I prepared an engagement announcement to place in the Times as soon as we get the official call from you later on,”_ mentioned Timothy. _"I would have called it in sooner, but one never wants to take something like this to chance."_

"What do you mean, Dad?  Do you think there's chance she might say no?"

_"He didn't mean anything,"_ said Wanda.  _"He was just talking to hear himself talk."_

_"Of course Donna's answer will be positive,"_ said Timothy quickly. _"I don't know why I say the things I do sometimes."_

_“The ad is simple, yet classy,”_ added Wanda.  _“Oh, and Toni mentioned that Neil was going to do the same.”_

“What fresh hell is this?  When did you speak with Antonia about placing engagement announcements in the newspapers?”

_“Earlier today,”_ replied Wanda.  _“We are all making an effort to keep in touch.”_

“Well, that’s comforting to hear, I suppose,” remarked Benedict.  “I’m glad you’re trying to form a civil relationship with them.  I truly appreciate it, and I’m sure Donna will as well. So, if you’re ready for a quick laptop tour, I think we’ll start off in the lounge, which overlooks East 65th Street.”

 

 

“Ah, here we are!” said Benedict Cumberbatch as the yellow cab pulled up in front of Daniel Restaurant on East 65th Street.   It had just started to snow lightly as they came out of the Nutcracker, and the sidewalks were now covered with a coating of powdery white.

“I can’t tell you how much I’ve been looking forward to having dinner here,” said Donna as Benedict paid the driver and helped her out of the cab.  “All food critics aspire to eat here.”

“Is that so?”

“I don’t know for sure; but _this_ food critic has for years.”

A gust of cold wind blew, causing Donna to shiver involuntarily.  _Of all nights to get dressed up with a dress and heels, I pick the one with the snowstorm!  How I hate dress codes!  Thank God I had the good sense to wear my long, wool dress coat rather than the faux fur jacket._

“Take care to wrap up, Darling,” said Benedict.  “I don’t want you to catch a chill.”

“We’re only going across the sidewalk to the door. Besides, I have my beautiful new cashmere Burberry scarf to keep me warm.”  Donna winked at him, causing Benedict to smile proudly.

The couple walked hand-in-hand to the revolving door entrance, where a host was eagerly waiting for them on the other side to escort them into the restaurant.

“Good Evening, Monsieur Cumberbatch and Mademoiselle Saint James,” he said graciously.  “Welcome to Restaurant Daniel. I am Jacques, your host for the evening.”

“Thank you,” said Benedict and Donna.

“Allow me to take your coats please.”

Donna and Benedict removed and handed over their coats and scarves, and the man disappeared into what must have been the coat room. 

“How did he know our names?”

“We spoke on the phone when I made the booking, so he already knew who I was and what time we were arriving.  It's a nice touch, don't you think?”

_And I also dropped in whilst you were at the nail salon earlier to personally give Chef Boulud your ring to keep in his safe until tonight. Why am I starting to feel nervous again?_

"Absolutely.  It makes the diner feel welcome and special," said Donna.

Jacques returned with a ticket, which he discretely handed to Benedict.  “If you’ll be so kind as to follow me, I will take you to your table in the Skybox.”

Jacques guided Benedict and Donna through the bar and grand dining room, into the kitchen and up a very steep staircase where celebrity Chef Daniel Boulud could be seen inside his small office, talking on the phone.  Donna noticed that he nodded at Benedict and smiled.

“As you can see, Daniel is in the house tonight; and he will stop in to say hello during the course of the evening,” explained Jacques.  “And _this_ is our world-renowned Skybox,” he continued proudly, stopping just outside of a glass-enclosed room and stepping aside.  A young man with curly dark blond hair was standing by the entrance, holding a silver tray containing two champagne flutes and an assortment of small canapes.  “This is Georges.  He will be your server for this evening. I’ll look in on you later. Bon appetit.”  And with that Jacques disappeared into Daniel Boulud’s office next door.

“Welcome to Restaurant Daniel and our Skybox,” smiled Georges.  “Please come in and make yourselves at home.”

The cozy booth occupied most of a small, glass-enclosed room that was suspended above the state-of-the art kitchen.  The plush banquette-style seats were upholstered in taupe-colored velvet with matching silk cushions.   Donna and Benedict sat across from each other with Donna plopping her huge handbag beside her on the seat. The section of the window behind Donna was covered with tightly closed blinds, while the section behind Benedict was framed by heavy-damask taupe drapes that had been pulled to one side, so as not to mar the view of the kitchen down below. There was a small, clear glass bowl containing a low arrangement of rainbow-colored cabbage roses in the center of the table and a fat white candle burned in a crystal, lotus-shaped holder. The table was covered in a long, crisp, white linen tablecloth with matching napkins that had been folded into squares.  The place settings were simple white china dishes, as was the gleaming silver cutlery and plain crystal water goblets. 

Georges noticed that Donna was appraising her surroundings with a trained eye. “Chef prefers that the focus be on the food and presentation rather than the setting.  The idea is not to detract from it with an overly-fussy table scape.”

“I agree whole-heartedly,” said Donna, gazing up at the celebrity photos that lined the walls.  _Wouldn’t it be cool if one day Benedict’s photo was up there?_

“As you can see, the Skybox has been decorated with Chef’s most treasured memorabilia,” added Georges.

_I bet it’s a bugger to keep clean,_ thought Benedict, suppressing a giggle. _For fucks sake, that sounded like something Donna would say._

“There sure is a lot of stuff to dust,” laughed Donna.  “I wouldn’t want to have to do that!”

_And there she goes, bless her._

“Oh, it is; and that’s why I’m glad there’s a nightly cleaning service to do all that,” laughed Georges.  “By the way, feel free to take as many photos as you wish or if you’d like me to take any, just say the word.  It would be my pleasure and I do it all the time for guests.”

Georges placed a flute of champagne before each of them.  “We have here some Pommery Brut champagne with Chef Boulud’s compliments along with these amuse bouches, which our Sous Chef has prepared for your enjoyment.  In case you’re wondering what they are…”

“We are,” laughed Benedict.

“We have Maine Lobster in gelee with cauliflower mousseline, Vadouvan lime vinaigrette and white sturgeon caviar…”

_And that was just the description of the first one,_ thought Benedict with amusement.

“…this one is a pan-seared Casco Bay scallop with sunchoke, black trumpet mushroom, hazelnut and birch syrup….”

_Donna looks clearly impressed so far, I just know she’s itching to whip out her mobile and take photos of these lovely-looking little morsels._

“…and finally, we have a Penn Cove oyster and lemongrass shooter. I’ll leave you two to enjoy all these treats.  If you need anything at all, just press that button on the wall, Monsieur Cumberbatch, and I’ll be right up. Enjoy.”

“Thank you,” said Benedict and Donna.

“Oh, and should you two want some privacy to smooch, just pull the drapes closed; and we’ll leave you alone.  Just open them when you’re done; so we know it’s okay to resume serving,” added Georges with a wink and a smile.

_Brilliant!  Georges is letting me know that he understands the set up for when it’s time for me to propose. I close the drapes so we can have privacy whilst I ask Donna to marry me. Meanwhile they’ll plate the puddings in the kitchen as we discussed yesterday, whilst Daniel brings down the ring from his safe. When I open the drapes that will serve as the signal for Georges to bring up the puddings with the ring on Donna’s hidden under a silver dome. I love how clueless Donna is to all the cloak and daggery that has gone on behind her back! She hasn’t stopped smiling since we got here. I’m so glad I chose to come here rather than Bouley or Jean Georges.  The staff has been amazing with helping me set up a dream proposal dinner for Donna. Well done me, so far._

Once Georges had closed the door to the room, the noise-level from the kitchen had diminished considerably.  The action in the kitchen could be seen perfectly from the table.  Donna and Benedict took a few minutes to study the many photographs of Daniel taken with various celebrities over the years. The wooden built-in display case that flanked one side of their table held various souvenirs, among them a pair of huge red sneakers that were signed by basketball star, Shaquille O’Neal, as well as Daniel’s cookbooks. 

Donna looked around the room.  “I have to pinch myself to make sure I’m really sitting here!  I’m going to take a few pictures,” she said opening her trusty handbag.

_I’m glad the banquette was big enough for Donna and that infernal handbag of hers.  It was providence that I booked our ballet seats in the first ring.  There was plenty of room for her bag and our feet.  I detest when she rests the fucking thing on my feet._

“I’ve got it,” said Benedict, pulling his digital camera out of his inside jacket pocket.  “I had a feeling you’d want to commemorate this meal.”

“Do you know me well or what?” giggled Donna, taking the camera and snapping photos of the canapes.  “Come over and sit by me,” she said, patting the seat beside her.  “We need to get a picture of us.”

“There isn’t room enough for three.”

Donna did a double take.  “Three?  What do you mean?”

“Well, you, me and your bloody valise.  That’s three,” snickered Benedict.

“You’re in rare form tonight, Mr. Cumberbatch.”

“I know I’m thin, but…”

“Okay. You can stop with your not-so-subtle hints. I’ll put it on the floor,” said Donna, moving her bag and moving over so Benedict would have room to sit.

“That’s much better, thank you.” Benedict got up and sat beside Donna so she could take a selfie of them. “I like the celebrity photo gallery,” he declared, returning to his side of the booth.  “There’s Daniel with Andy Warhol when he was much younger…I see Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman…John Lennon and Yoko Ono…Sandra Bullock…Denzel Washington’s in the lower right.”

“There’s Jennifer Lopez and Marc Anthony up top, Barack Obama and his wife, Michelle on the right…isn’t that Tony Blair in the photo just below?”

“Yeah.  It is…there’s James Earl Jones, Antonio Banderas, Maggie Smith…David Bowie…George Lucas…Tom Hanks and Rita Wilson.  Wait… I see your friends…see, just to the left of …I don’t know who that bloke is…”

“It’s Sarah and Matt!  I remember Matt took Sarah here for one of their anniversaries, and they loved it.  By the way, the guy you didn’t recognize is Derek Jeter from the New York Yankees.  There’s Regis Philbin, who hosts a morning TV show…that’s Katie Couric and Matt Lauer from the Today Show…and Eli Manning, who is a New York Giant’s football player. ”

“Hmmm…isn’t that your other friend, Gia something…sorry I’m such rubbish with names at times…”

“Giada.  Yes, there she is with her husband, Todd, her mom and her grandfather…” 

“The director, Dino DiLaurentiis,” finished Benedict.  “Very impressive.”

“I wonder what those blinds behind me are hiding?”

“Daniel’s office is adjacent to this room.”

“I hope he comes in to say hello.”

“I’m sure he will.  Jacques assured me that all who dine in the Skybox receive a personal audience with Chef Boulud, provided he’s in the house.”

_Especially since he’s keeping watch over your engagement ring for me, and is the only one with the combination to the bloody safe._

“He’s in the house alright.  We just saw him, and he seemed to recognize you.”

“I'm sure he waves to everyone who dines up here.  Anyway, let’s not allow this lovely champagne to go to waste, shall we?”  Benedict held up his glass and smiled at Donna over the rim.  “Here’s to your good health and happiness, Donna. Cheers.”

“Cheers. Thank you, Ben Honey,” said Donna as they touched glasses. “This has been such a perfect birthday, but do you know what the best part has been so far?”

“What?”

“That you came all this way to share it with me.  I can’t thank you enough.”

_Hmm…wait until you see what else awaits you tonight, Love.  I’m sure you’ll want to thank me properly once we get back to your flat, and I don’t mean with just words. Oh, Benedict, there you go thinking with your knob once again._

“Mmmm…this is quite good champagne,” commented Benedict, taking a second sip and smacking his lips. “It’s one of the best I’ve ever had, actually.”

“It’s one of the best French champagnes there is,” clarified Donna.

“It’s to your liking then yes?”

“Definitely!”

Benedict ate one of the oyster shooters.  “Oh, this one is fantastic! Nice and briny tasting.  Erm…I have to confess that I thought the service was going to be stuffy and intimidating, but it’s just the opposite.”

“I agree, the staff has been very warm and friendly so far. I like Jacques and Georges.  I like how Georges has a French name, yet he sounds as New York as I do.”

“I'm guessing that’s because he was born in New York of French parents,” said Benedict.  _Actually, Jacques was telling me yesterday when he introduced us._

“That’s like my dad.  My grandparents were born abroad, yet Dad has no trace of an English or Italian accent.”

“Georges is a most refreshing change from your favourite server at the Tate Modern and highly-respected member of your review team…Frank…or is it Francois…no…Fritz?”

“Be nice tonight, Ben Honey.  There will be no potshots at Frederick, please.”

_And I just made her stropy with my snarky comment.  That was the sarcastic version of Ben Honey.  I need to turn on my mouth filter. It's nerve-wracking enough trying to keep it from her that I was here yesterday until the time is right._

_Good gravy!  He’s pouting.  I’ve got to find a way to subtly teach him about wine so we can go out and enjoy ourselves.  I hate to see Benedict stressed out all the time over frigging wine of all things! He’s letting his pride get in the way of learning a new skill, which I know he would be fantastic at!_

“So, should we order a cocktail?” Donna asked pleasantly, changing the subject. “Daniel is supposed to have very unique ones. I guess Georges will be bringing our menus soon, so we can look them over.  Ooooo try the lobster.  It’s delicious.”

Benedict smiled smugly at her.  “There is no need for a menu.  Tonight we will be having an eight-course tasting menu selected by Daniel himself with the appropriate wine pairings.”

As if on cue, the door to the room opened, allowing Georges to enter with a tray containing two cocktails, and his helper carried a heavy-looking metal dish holding a large variety of delectable-looking breads and rolls. 

“This is our signature drink, the White Cosmo:  Grey Goose Vodka, elder flower liquor, white cranberry juice and lime with a fresh orchid suspended in an ice sphere.”

“Wow!  It’s beautiful!” exclaimed Donna.  “And almost too pretty to drink, but somehow I’ll manage!”

“Blimey, this is a true work of art!” agreed Benedict.  “It looks exactly as Jacques described it to me yesterday when we were reviewing the cocktail menu.”

Donna raised an eyebrow at him. "You were here yesterday?"

_Ah, time to stop this bloody deception._ "Yes, I was here yesterday to help with the menu selection.  I gave Jacques your food and drink preferences, so Daniel could put together a menu to please your very discerning palate."

Donna smiled at him.  "I love that you went through so much trouble to plan this dinner."

"It was a labour of love, Darling."

Georges’ helper placed the bread tray on the table.  “This is Richard, who will be assisting me tonight in serving you; and he has just placed before you our famous bread basket.  All of our breads are baked in-house by our master bread baker, Chef Mark Fiorentino, each morning with only the finest organic ingredients.” 

“Now, that is an impressive array of breads!” exclaimed Donna, clapping her hands together.  “They all look and smell so tempting.”

“And each one of them is tastier than the other,” confirmed Richard.  “That’s my lunch every day – fresh bread and butter,” he added with a sly smile.

_And I’m sure they mill the flour somewhere in the basement or they have their own mill set up somewhere that does it for them,_ thought Benedict. _Jesus Christ!  It’s going to take him an age to explain all those motherfucking breads and rolls. I just want us to be alone._

“Tonight we have:  roasted garlic, Parmesan and tomato focaccia, sourdough ciabatta, olive-rosemary rolls, whole grain with raisins and walnuts, torpedo rolls with pumpkin, flax and sunflower seeds, mini sesame seed baguettes and sweet brioche…”

_Donna, my darling, I’m just so utterly, completely, ridiculously…in love with you that I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with you. I want us to build a home filled with love and children, which will be a product of that deep and abiding love we share. Therefore, I’d like to ask you to do the honour of becoming my wife. Hmmm…all of a sudden I find that I’m not fancying my speech as much as I originally did. It sounds too stuffy and formal…I think I may have used the part about the home and children in an interview one time…or when talking to her wanker parents.  Shit! Perhaps I should have gone for something less heartfelt and more clever...whimsical might work._

 “…our trio of accompaniments include:  house-made butter, sprinkled with pink sea salt, citrus-infused olive oil and whipped mascarpone with cinnamon and a touch of anise.  We’ll be back with the first course momentarily.”

_No.  I need to stick with a traditional proposal.  I don’t really fancy changing things up too much.  Now, why is that? It’s not the law that I must stick with tradition; but somehow I can’t bring myself not to. Why? Because I’m an old soul at heart and want to make an old-fashioned proposal._

“Look at the butter, Ben!  It’s in the shape of a rose!  It’s almost too pretty to eat! Which should we try first?  They all look so…yummy.”

_Hmmm…I hope I’m not so anxious that I forget to draw those drapes when the time comes for complete privacy. All I have to do is get up and quickly pull them to the right and make sure the window is covered prior to going down on bended knee. When I open it, Georges and his assistant will come up, present the puddings and leave. They know to leave the plates covered, so we can take them off ourselves. I can’t wait to see Donna’s face when she lifts the cover off hers.  I must make sure to take a photo._

“I was thinking we’d better pace ourselves, even though a tasting menu is usually just one or two bites of a course,” suggested Donna. “Not to mention all the liquor.  Even though it’s just a swallow or two with each course, it does add up to three glasses by the time we’re done.”

“Don’t forget to factor in the champagne and cocktail,” added Benedict. “And I’m sure we’ll be served a digestif at the end of the meal as well.”

“You’re going to have to carry me out to the cab after all that!” joked Donna.

“I did it once before with no problem,” Benedict reminded her with a wink.

Donna started to laugh. “You sure did! I remember it well.  It was the night I got tipsy at the Golden Fleece from drinking all that hard cider!”

“You were beyond tipsy, I’m afraid, Love.  You were right pissed,” chortled Benedict.  “You not only imbibed quite a heroic quantity of cider; but finished off my second pint of beer as well.”

_If there’s one thing I definitely don’t want is to be pissed when I ask Donna to marry me.  I need a clear head to do that properly. That would be horrible if I were off my face and slurring my words. It’s bad enough I’ve got to mind that lisp when I’m sober._

“So, do you want to split one of the olive rolls to start, Ben?”

_I must make it my business to definitely close the bloody drapes.  I don’t fancy the whole kitchen staring up at me whilst I’m asking the most important question I’ve ever asked anyone in my life._

“Benedict?  Hello?  Where did you go?” asked Donna in a teasing tone. “Your eyes are glazed over like you’re bored.”

Benedict started and flushed.  He felt flustered and rubbed his thigh furiously under the table.  _Oh, I was just rehearsing my rubbish marriage proposal and fretting over the details for the hundredth time today._

“So sorry, Love. I’m utterly fascinated by the goings on down there in the kitchen.”

_Your body language gives you away, Benedict.  You were zoning out during the descriptions of the food, which isn’t like you. You enjoy nothing more than to poke fun at them once the server’s out of ear shot.  Then the not-so-discrete thigh rubbing, which means something is making him uneasy, but what?_

“I glad I’m not the only one who’s mesmerized by all the action. Would you like to switch seats with me so you can see a little better?  I feel guilty that your back is to the kitchen.”

“Nope.  I can see just fine if I turn my head. Besides it’s your birthday, so you get the prime seat.”

“I can’t get my eyes off the kitchen.  I love how they all work together like a perfectly choreographed culinary ballet of sorts…look at them over there in the corner.  They must be plating our first course and…”

_Donna, love of my life…heavens no.  That really sounds too corny.  Donna, light of my life…no, that’s just as bad.  Donna, I’m so damn besotted with you that I feel as if I’ve been floating in this little cloud of bliss ever since the moment I laid eyes on you.  Fuck no.  That’s truly terrible. I sound like one of those soppy greeting cards. Besides, I despised her at first sight. Why am I so nervous?  I’ve gone over this moment more times than I care to remember, yet I feel like I did the night I lost my virginity.  I’m such a dolt._

“Yep!  Those are our appetizers.  Here comes Georges and Richard. Benedict?  Are you okay?”

“Yes.  I couldn’t be better.  Sitting up here in this little glassed-in haven, above one of the most extraordinarily pristine kitchens I’ve even seen – not to mention being in the company of the most wonderful woman in the world – who I just happen to be hopelessly besotted with.”

_He’s going to say it.  Here it comes._

“It’s truly an embarrassment of riches.”

_Yikes!  How he loves that line._

“Did I tell you how especially lovely you look tonight, Sweetheart?”

_That sounded rather well for off-the-cuff, Benedict.  Maybe I should pull out the ring and ask her right now. Oh…crumbs. I can’t.  The ring is in the safe in the office next door.  Maybe I should just say:  Donna, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?  No. That’s the default proposal that everyone uses for fucks sake.  I yearn for my proposal to be special and memorable.  Something loving, but not too soppy or saccharine. Christ, I hope to hell I don't get all emotional and teary-eyed on her.  That would be horrible.  Truly horrible.  I could just hear her now:  The night Benedict chose to propose, he cried his eyes out and could barely say the words.  Oh, shit.  She's talking to me, I need to remain in the present and pay closer attention._

“Yes, and thank you,” smiled Donna, crinkling her nose at him.  “As you like to say:  I’m a tart for compliments.”

Benedict chuckled. “You’ve got it wrong.  I’m fond of saying that I’m a tart for sweets.”

“It was meant to be a parody. Are you feeling okay?  You look a little pale.  I hope you didn’t pick up something on the plane.  The flu is going around.”

_Hmmm…I wasn’t this nervous either time I asked Olivia to marry me.  Why then now?  What’s different?  Perhaps because this time I realize it’s the one and only time I will ever do this, and I want to do it properly and make sure it’s one Donna will always remember with great fondness._

“Ben?”

“No. Yes.  Erm…shit…I’m afraid I’m guilty of not paying attention, for which I’m truly sorry…what did you just ask me?”

“If you feel alright.”

“Oh, yes.  Absolutely.  Couldn’t be better. Really.  I’m just fine.”

_I feel like I’m going to puke.  I need to calm down and enjoy tonight. After all this is a special night for me as well.  I don’t want to remember it as the night I spent in a hyper-anxious state over asking a question that I know deep down inside that she’s going to say yes to._

Donna was looking at him skeptically across the table, index finger tracing a small circle on the tablecloth.

“I assure you that I feel perfectly fine, Donna.”

_Hmmm…I was so cock sure Liv was going to say yes both times, and there I was stood with egg on my face twice._

Georges and his helper, Richard, entered the room holding huge white plates containing miniature bite-sized works of art.  The sommelier stood behind them with a tray containing two wine glasses.

“This is our first course:  Porcini Velouté with parsley emulsion, Littleneck clams and sweet garlic custard.  Richard has Eckerton Hill Farm heirloom tomato with Peekytoe crab, avocado, and house-made Burrata chilled soup with sherry vinegar.”

The sommelier stepped forward.  “I’m Pierre, your sommelier for the evening.  For the first courses, Mr. Cumberbatch and I have chosen a  Balthazar Ress Riesling Spätlese Oestricher Doosberg, Rheingau 1995. Please enjoy.”

Donna blurted out, “What a coincidence! My dog is named Pierre.”

_Hells bells!  I’d better watch out for her.  Donna’s tongue is getting a bit loose after a glass of champagne and a cocktail. The wine flight hasn’t even begun yet._

Pierre flashed a charming smile at her.  “Pierre is a fine name for man or beast yes?”

“Yes!  He’s a French poodle.”

_Donna needs to be quiet now_ , thought Benedict.  He made eyes at Pierre, who smiled as if saying he understood and quietly left the room wearing an amused smile.

Once the door was closed, Benedict began to giggle as Donna took the requisite photos.  “In other words, here’s a mushroom and clam flan and tomato soup course.”

“Well, it’s a very tasty flan and tomato soup,” remarked Donna taking a sip of her wine. 

_It should be for what it cost_ , thought Benedict with amusement as he took a photo of Donna digging into her Porcini Veloute. 

“You chose the wine?” asked Donna incredulously.  “I am impressed, Mr. Cumberbatch.”

Benedict blushed and giggled. “Oh, don’t be,” he said with a bashful wave of his hand. “Whilst I was here yesterday, I sat with Pierre and he poured me some samples.  All I did was take a sniff and a sip, swished it over my lame palate, spit and told him which ones I fancied.  He did the actual pairings.”

Donna watched him as he dipped a piece of the foccaccia in the citrus-infused olive oil and ate it with relish.

_Gosh, Benedict looks especially handsome tonight.  I love how he looks in blue.  It brings out the color of his gorgeous eyes._

“By the way, I love this navy blue suit on you, Ben.  I don’t recall having seen it before.  Is it new?”

“Yes and no,” he replied, finishing his soup. “It’s new to me; but I believe it was manufactured circa nineteen eighty-five. I bought it at Beyond Retro, that charity shop I fancy in Soho.  You can’t beat Ralph Lauren for fifty quid, plus another twenty for tailoring.  I couldn’t get something like this for seventy quid on Jermyn Street.”

“That’s for sure. I love a good bargain!  It looks brand new, and fits you perfectly,” declared Donna with a smile of approval. "Blue is truly your color."

Benedict blushed.  "Thank you."

“I know I’ve already told you once, but I really do love my new scarf,” she added.  “It’s so soft and warm.”

Benedict rubbed his upper lip.  “I’ve never seen you wear a scarf, so I decided you needed a proper one to wrap up in for the colder weather.  Then I was given pause after I had bought it because it dawned on me that you might not fancy scarves, which would be the reason why I’ve never seen you wearing one.”

“The reason I never wear a scarf is because I’ve always had ones made of wool, which I find too scratchy and itchy.  I eschew them in favor of turtlenecks in order to keep my neck warm.  Now, my new Burberry scarf is very soft against my skin; so you can be sure I’ll be wearing it all through the winter. I will treasure it always.”

“I’m glad,” said Benedict, feeling happy and relieved at the same time.

However, his thoughts soon drifted back to the proposal as the second course was presented and served.

_How about, Donna, my treasure?  No.  Donna, Sweetheart, I treasure your love more than you’ll ever know.  It is akin to the most precious of jewels – you are my diamond.  Wait.  Isn’t that a line in that Disney movie we were watching recently? Aladdin. Hmmm…it’s coming to me…I’ve got it! Aladdin was described as a diamond in the rough, but Donna certainly isn't rough by any definition of the word.  However, I could call Donna my diamond. Where in the hell was I before I began all this mental waffling?  Oh, yes.  Would you marry me and join me on the path through life’s journey?  Fuck NO!  I don’t think I could utter all that with a straight face.  I guess, I’ll go with my original, rubbish speech._

“So which one of these did you prefer:  the olive oil poached cod salad with artichoke puree,  anise hyssop dressing and lemon zest or the tai snapper cerviche with Persian cucumber shaved radish, tapioca pearls and dill oil?  I think I have to give a slight edge to the snapper,” said Donna as she broke off a small piece of the raisin walnut bread and spread some of the spiced marscapone on it.

_What in the hell will I do on the off chance that she says ‘no’?  I don’t think I could bear rejection from her…I’d be at such a loss…I know I'd definitely burst into tears.  Oh, God.  That would be awful.  How humiliating...how utterly devastating...how emasculating.  
_

_My honey is distracted once again, and this time his eyes are not on the kitchen, the food or me. He’s just staring off into space, like he’s in a trance. He’s always so attentive and chatty when we’re together._

Benedict was suddenly aware of Donna snapping her fingers at him.

“Earth to Benedict…yoo hooo…where fore art thou?”

“Oh, erm…you asked me something didn’t you?” Benedict inquired with a guilty expression as he rubbed the back of his neck.  “Sorry, I guess I was in my own little world.”

“You’ve been spending a lot of time in your own little world tonight,”observed Donna dryly.  “Am I boring you with all this food talk?”

“No. Quite the contrary. I always enjoy discussing food with you – food is what brought us together after all,” he chuckled.

“That’s true, but somehow I’m getting the impression that something isn’t right.  Do you want to talk about it?”

_Absolutely!  Maybe you can help me decide which of my rubbish speeches I should use to propose to you. She can pick her own proposal speech.  Hahaha!  I'm so fucked up tonight.  I just know I'm going to cock this up somehow.  
_

“Not really,” came Benedict’s flat response.

_Jeez Louise! If there’s one thing Benedict excels at, it’s engaging his dinner companion in conversation.  He’s been acting very strange tonight.  One minute he’s his usual gregarious self, then the next he’s distant and indifferent. I know he can be moody sometimes...but he started out the evening with a bang, and now he's fizzling out like a wet firecracker. Maybe the food isn’t living up to his expectations?_

“Is the food not prepared to your liking?”

Benedict sat unresponsive, staring into his wine glass.

_Okay.  He’s in one of his moods.  Why?  I have no idea.  It’s best to just let him be when he gets like this.  He’ll snap out of it sooner or later._

“Would you just rather us sit here and eat quietly?  If you don’t feel like talking, Benedict, that’s perfectly fine.  I don’t expect you to be ‘on’ all the time. I understand that you have your bad days, too.”

_What in the fuck is she rambling on about?  I’m not stropy at all!_

“It has nothing to do with the food or your company.  I’m just being a little introspective tonight.  I apologize for not giving you my complete attention, Love.  Now, what was it you asked me?”

“Did you prefer the cod or the snapper?”

“The snapper, definitely.  I can’t get that in London; but there’s plenty of cod to go around. The snapper is a nice change…it’s a very delicate fish. Both bites were quite tasty,” he replied as he reached across the table to take her hand in his and squeeze it reassuringly.  “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

_I’ve got to stop worrying over this bloody proposal.  That last thing I want is to ruin this meal for Donna. I must force my thoughts to remain in the present…but I just wish I had thought to propose this afternoon…I could have done it in Central Park.  She’s often made mention of a carousel there. A carriage ride!  There were so many of them lined up along Central Park!  Why didn’t I think to do that?  We could have hopped onto a carriage, and it would have been done and over with. I did consider it and decided it was too cliché._

“Um…Ben Honey, would you mind if I reviewed this meal?”  Donna smiled disarmingly at him and batted her eyelashes.

Her words jolted him back into the present.

_For fucks sake!  She wants to review the motherfucking meal on the most important night of her life?  Absolutely not!!_

Benedict blinked at her and shook his head.  “Did I just hear you correctly?  Did you say that on tonight, of all bloody nights, you want to work yes?”

Donna’s eyes suddenly darted away from him nervously as alarm bells had suddenly gone off inside her head.

_What does he mean by that?  Tonight of all nights – I know it’s my birthday and he wants to make a big deal out of it; but it’s not that special. It’s a birthday…or is it something else. Something’s not right with him.  He’s been edgy all day and getting more so by the minute. Since we got here, he’s been alternating between zoning out and fidgeting. I think there’s more to this dinner than just a birthday celebration.  Maybe he’s stressed about another get together with my parents. That sure as hell could do it._

“If you prefer I don’t, that’s okay, Benedict,” Donna said quickly. “I don’t want to upset you or spoil the mood.”

Benedict suddenly felt as if the curtain had been lifted on his mental fog and the solution to his conundrum was now clear as could be. He smiled to himself at his good fortune, as he took her hand and kissed the back of it.

_Donna has just given me the perfect opening, bless her. This is my opportunity.  I can get it over with and enjoy the rest of the meal with my fiancée._

“You’re not spoiling the mood at all,” he said in a soft voice. “Quite the contrary.”

“Oh, good.  I thought for a minute that you were angry with me,” Donna said hesitantly.

“Not at all!”

Donna tittered nervously.  “Well, that’s a relief to hear you say that, Benedict.  You really didn’t look very happy with me for a minute.  I would never do anything to jeopardize this delicious, romantic dinner we’re having.  This means…”

“Please be quiet, Donna,” Benedict blurted out impatiently. “We need to have a serious talk…”

“We do? Can’t it wait until we’re back at my apartment?”

“No. There’s something of paramount importance that we need to sort out…”

Donna frowned at him.  “Here?” she demanded, gesturing to their surroundings. “You’re starting to worry me, Benedict.”

“Look, there’s something I want…need to know…ask you…and I must do it now before I lose my mind…I mean train of thought!”

Donna felt a distinct chill run up and down her spine as her mouth went dry and her heart began to beat faster.

_Oh, no.  I bet Benedict wants to revisit our conversation about the Craigslist ad.  It’s been weighing on his mind, and he’s decided that he must know what I didn’t tell him. He’s going to ask me to tell him everything now.  Shit!  What an appropriate sendoff I’m getting: a special breakup birthday dinner in the Skybox.  This is going to be a night I’ll always remember - and not in a good way._

Benedict suddenly got up, reached behind him and pulled the drapes closed in one swift motion. Before she could say anything more, he had moved to Donna’s side of the booth and towered over her with a neutral expression on his face.

_Holy cow!  I can’t read his face for once.  This is the man who wears his heart on his sleeve, and tonight he chose to tuck it away. I have no idea what’s he’s feeling. Maybe my overactive imagination is reading more into this than there is. Could he want privacy so we can do a little making out?_

“Do you want me to move over so you can sit next to me, Benedict?” asked a bewildered Donna.  “I wouldn’t mind sneaking a few kisses before the next course.”  She smiled up at him warmly.

“No, I don’t want to snog or sit; but I’d like you to please turn and face me,” he said softly.

_Okay.  No kissing.  He definitely wants to talk about something face-to-face.  I’m so damn nervous. Oh, oh, he’s clenching his fists and his jaw’s taut.  I don’t think I want to read him anymore. He’s definitely grappling with something._

“I can do that,” said Donna, turning in her seat and moving to the edge of the banquette.  Neither of them noticed that when she moved the tablecloth also got pulled taut, shifting her water and wine glasses dangerously close to her arm.  “Now, what would you like to talk about?”  Donna asked anxiously.

Benedict gracefully dropped down onto one knee and took both of her hands in his before she fully realized what his motive was. His heart was thumping with anticipation and his stomach was filled with butterflies. He looked deep into her hazel eyes and smiled uncertainly at her, while swallowing over a lump that had formed in his throat. He then felt his eyes filling with tears.

_Now, don’t get soppy, Benedict. You need to hold it together until she answers you at least._

Benedict cleared his throat. “Donna, when you asked if you could review this meal, I was stunned…”

_I can feel a slight tremble in his hands. He was pissed off after all.  I knew it.  It’s about my asking to review dinner all the time…he’s not happy that I’m constantly in review mode.  Thank God it wasn’t about the Plan though._

“…but then I realized that now was the perfect time to address something that’s been weighing heavily on my mind and heart.”

Donna bit her lower lip as she held his gaze.  “You’re angry with me that I asked to review our dinner.  I apologize, Benedict.  We’ll just eat and enjoy all this delightful food and each others company, which is how you meant it to be.  I can always write up a review from memory tomorrow.”

Benedict briefly touched her lips with a long index finger in order to silence her as he swallowed hard again and cleared his throat.

“No, you misunderstand, Love. Please feel free to review our meal.  I know how much you enjoy critiquing and it is your birthday after all, so I ask that you allow me to indulge you,” he said in a silky voice.

_Okay.  I’m lost here.  I haven’t a clue as to what he’s getting at then._

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, but under one condition, Donna,” said Benedict with mock sternness.

“And exactly what is this condition?” asked Donna playfully, fluttering her eyelashes at him.

_I know! My honey is going to now ask for something like unlimited rainchecks for blow jobs, I’m willing to bet.  He’s such a tease!_

Benedict Cumberbatch suddenly felt amazingly calm as he gazed deep into her hazel eyes and crinkled his nose at Donna.  His hands had steadied, the nervous feeling had abated in his stomach and the tightness in his throat had disappeared.  He gave her a dimpled smile, and uttered the words he had been yearning to say.

“The condition is that you’ll marry me.”

Donna looked completely gob smacked as his words sunk in and she realized what had just happened.

_Benedict just asked me to marry him!  All this time he was in a tizzy over proposing! You’re so damn dumb, Donna!  Look at him!  He’s down on one knee and you didn’t even notice!_

Donna stared at him, blinking back tears of joy as she smiled widely at him.

“Yes, Benedict Honey,” said Donna Saint James, reaching out to caress his cheek.  “Yes, I’ll marry you.”  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. That's it, folks! Benedict and Donna are engaged. 
> 
> 2\. I was originally going to have Benedict make a very long and waffling proposal, but decided at the last minute to have his anxiety get the best of him and do it on impulse, which I preferred. 
> 
> 3\. Norma's has delicious breakfast. I highly recommend it once. Portions are huge and can be shared. 
> 
> 4\. I've never eaten at Restaurant Daniel, so all is taken from reviews and research. I sure would like to try it one day though. :-)


	127. Chapter 127

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Benedict and Donna get engaged – Part 3 
> 
> Benedict presents Donna with her ring.

 

Over the years, Donna Saint James Cumberbatch would maintain that the casual, impromptu marriage proposal she received from her husband, Benedict, was one of the highlights of her life:  

“No, you misunderstand, Love. Please feel free to review our meal.  I know how much you enjoy critiquing and it is your birthday after all, so I ask that you allow me to indulge you,” Benedict said in his silky baritone voice. 

“Are you sure?” _  
_

“Yes, but under one condition, Donna.” _  
_

“And exactly what _is_ this condition?” _  
_

“The condition is that you’ll marry me.” 

“Yes, Benedict Honey. Yes, I’ll marry you.”   

The couple stared at each other as huge smiles slowly spread across their faces, and they tightly squeezed each others hands.  Donna felt as if she were in a dream as she gazed into her now fiancé’s blue-green eyes through a veil of happy tears as she stroked his cheek lovingly. 

_We’re engaged! I can’t believe it!_

_I’ve graduated to ‘Benedict Honey’.  I like the sound of that as well.  That’s it then!  We’re engaged! Ahhhhhh!!!!_

Benedict let out the breath he had been holding and leaned in to kiss Donna tenderly, after which she threw her arms around his neck and peppered his face with butterfly kisses.  Neither of them noticed that her elbow had knocked over both of her glasses in her excitement. 

"I love you so much, Benedict!" 

"I love you, too, my Darling.  More than you'll ever know," he murmured, capturing her lips in between his.  

"What a wonderful birthday this has been," said Donna in between his soft, gentle kisses. "Just when I thought things couldn't get any better, you ask me to marry you." 

“Had I known you’d be so receptive to the idea of getting married, I would have proposed that much sooner,” Benedict teased her. “A man can get used to all this extra love and affection.” 

Donna sighed contentedly and rested her forehead against his. “I've been longing to hear those words!” 

“And I’ve been longing to say them to you…so much so that I said them much sooner than I originally intended,” Benedict chuckled. “I was waiting until…what the fuck?” 

The couple abruptly pulled apart at the same time and looked down to examine their laps.  

“What the hell?  I feel wet!” exclaimed Donna, tugging on the tablecloth that was caught in between her side and the table. “This damn thing is stuck under my butt I think! I can’t see where the wetness is coming from. I just need to pull it loose!” 

“Donna!  You're tangled in it. Let me come over there and help you." 

"It's okay. I've almost got it," she grunted. 

_For fucks sake, she doesn't see the damn glasses about to topple over! She's so damn impatient, bless her!_

" _Please_ stop pulling on the wretched thing!  You’ll upset the glasses!” cried Benedict, tossing his napkin onto the table.  “They’re starting to tip over.” 

As the words left Benedict’s mouth, he could see that it was already too late.  Donna gave the table cloth one final tug, causing all the glassware to sway alarmingly. Benedict quickly slid out of the booth and leapt to his feet in order to try and rescue the glassware, but his efforts were for naught. 

“Ah!  Got it!  Now, let’s see…” 

“Donna, mind your wine glass!!”  He exclaimed whilst pointing to the downed glass. 

Donna looked in the direction Benedict was pointing in time to see her now-empty wine glass rolling towards her. She was able to quickly right it just in time to spy her empty water glass about to roll off the table from the corner of her eye, but Benedict was able to save it. Luckily, both of Benedict’s glasses didn’t have much in them and had become lodged against the lotus candle holder. The wine and water mingled into a small puddle on the once-pristine white table cloth, creating a pink-hued stain as it spread and seeped into the fabric. 

“Major crisis averted!” Benedict sighed with obvious relief, picking up his glasses and setting them straight.  “Nothing is broken as far as I can see.” 

Donna looked horrified as she jumped up and tried to smooth the tablecloth as Benedict dabbed at the spilled liquid with his napkin. 

“Crap!  I’m such a klutz!  Thank God nothing’s broken though!” 

“Don’t fret, Darling.  Things like this happen all the time I’m sure.” 

“Not up here, I’m willing to bet,” insisted Donna pointing to one of the photos on the wall. “Could you really imagine something like this happening to Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie when they were having dinner here?” 

Benedict’s eyes moved to the photo, and he shook his head in agreement. 

“Erm…to be completely honest: hell no.” 

“I hate that these things always seem to happen to me, and now they happen to you by default. Are you sure you want to marry such an accident-prone woman?” 

“Quite. I adore you - klutziness and all.  Now, please calm yourself, Donna. I guarantee you the staff will understand.  I'm sure they've seen much worse than this. The linens can be cleaned, the glasses remain amazingly intact and neither of us puked on the table. The worst thing that will come of this snafu is that they have a good giggle about us down in the kitchen.” 

“I appreciate your attempt at trying to make me feel better, but it’s not working. I don’t understand how this could have happened!” 

“This infernal table cloth was too long to start with, and you got tangled in it when you turned to face me."  

"It's supposed to suggest romantic ambiance." 

“I think it suggests the potential for an accident, I meant to say - mishap - where you’re concerned,” snickered Benedict. "I’m surprised it didn’t happen sooner. Bare tabletops work best for you.” 

“Not always as our last time at the Tate Modern’s restaurant proves,” lamented Donna. “It was the same scenario.  I turned in my seat to face you, and my elbow bumped my glass…my delicious burgundy wine went all over the lady sitting next to me.” 

“Oh, I had forgotten about that.  Does spilling something whilst sitting at the bar count? To be perfectly fair you did offer to pay for that cow’s dry cleaning bill.” 

"Of course it counts. I was so embarrassed that night." 

"Said cow wasn't particularly gracious about it either." 

"She was wearing a white eyelet lace blouse.  I wouldn't have been gracious either, had it been the other way around."

"We'll have to agree to disagree then, because you absolutely would have been find about it.  You didn't make a fuss the night I spilt my cold strawberry soup on your white dress."

"That's because it was you, and we weren't out in public.  We were having dinner at your apartment.  It was easy for me to just change into one of your t-shirts while I put my clothes into the washer."

Benedict shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. He reached down and subtly brushed his hand over his crotch. 

_Shit!  My trousers do feel damp. I wasn’t imagining it._

_Why is he touching himself?  Guys pick the strangest times to subtly try and scratch their balls.  
_

Benedict’s gaze moved downwards to his crotch, and he grimaced as if in pain.   _Hells bells, I fucking can't believe this!_

"What's wrong, Ben?  You look upset.  Are you okay?" 

“For fucks sake!  I was so nervous that I leaked some wee,” he exclaimed in a panic. “I…I…don’t know what to say,” he stammered. "Of all nights to have something like this happen!" 

“No, you didn’t leak anything,” Donna assured him, patting his shoulder. “Calm down.  Things like that tend to happen when people are afraid, not happy – or have incontinence problems.  None of which apply to you as far as I know.” 

Benedict kept his head down. His face was scarlet from embarrassment. “I wish to hell you were right; but I really did… Christ, it happened one other time when a mate of mine and I pulled a prank in Harrow’s chapel.  We were laughing so much, I leaked some wee.” 

“I’m telling you, Ben.  No way is that urine.” 

“Look – my motherfucking trousers are damp!  I’ve never been so humiliated in my life,” he moaned. “Why tonight of all nights?” 

Donna abruptly bent down and sniffed at his crotch. “There - just as I thought.  It’s not urine.” 

“Bloody hell, woman!  I had no idea you were part sniffer dog. What in the fuck were you just doing ?” 

“Proving a point, so you can stop carrying on and calm down.” Donna straightened up and gestured to her empty water glass. “Benedict, I one-hundred percent guarantee that you didn’t have an accident.  It’s just water from when  I knocked over the water glasses when I went to hug you!” 

“Damn it! The one thing I can always count on is that you _never_ fail to drink every last drop of your water! What happened tonight?” 

“I was too busy drinking champagne, pretty cocktails with orchids in ice spheres and wine flights!  Even I can only hold so much liquid…”  Donna held up her hand.  “…I know that’s hard to believe, but there it is.” 

“Fuckity fuck fuck! I didn’t even feel it straight away! How could that have happened without either of us noticing?” 

“That’s because we were in the middle of one of life’s most important milestones,” Donna said with a smile. “One doesn’t worry about a little spilled water when being asked to marry the man of her dreams.” 

Benedict blushed.  “Christ.  You certainly are taking the piss tonight. No woman has ever referred to me as the man of their dreams.” 

"Well, this one is. I wasn't being flip, Honey. I really do feel that way about you.” 

“I thought you were being cheeky." 

"Nope.  I'm completely sincere. Cross my heart, Girl Scout's honor and all that jazz." 

"You’ve gone and made me blush, Donna.” 

“That wasn’t my intent; but for the record, I think you look very boyish and cute when you do. Not to mention that I'm a tart for when you crinkle your nose.  Did I get that right?” 

“Yes, you did.  You're actually doing a splendid job of peppering your conversation with British expressions as of late." 

"I've noticed you've been using more American expressions yourself as well." 

"Such as?" 

"You don't always say you're going to 'ring someone up' anymore.  You've been saying 'call' instead.  I also hear you using dessert rather than pudding." 

Benedict patted his trousers again and sighed.  "They're still damp. I was so caught up in the moment…and what an utterly lovely moment that was…that I didn’t notice the water had spilled.” 

“That’s because the water was at room temperature.  I requested no ice tonight.” 

Benedict went to the window and pushed aside the curtain just enough so he could peek out at the goings on in the kitchen below him. All the cooks appeared to be busy going about their business of preparing the various components of their dishes.  Then Benedict noticed that the expediter would glance up towards the Skybox occasionally and report to the others. 

“Oh God! I wonder what they must be making of this?” Benedict wondered aloud as he rubbed the back of his neck. 

Donna came to stand beside him and put her arm around his slender waist, as she took a quick peek through the slit in the curtains. 

“They may not be making anything of it, Benedict.  I bet they’re thinking we’re just doing a little… snogging in between courses.  That really is such a cute word:  snogging.” 

Benedict quickly let the drape fall back into place, lest Donna see something she shouldn’t.  He turned, hugged her close to him and absently stroked her hair.  

_No. They are probably wondering why the tit in the Skybox suddenly decided to cock up the carefully coordinated plans.  I’ve given them the signal that I was about to propose, which I did.  The problem is I wasn’t supposed to do it until it was time for the dessert course. They must be wondering what to do about the ring.  
_

Donna felt him kiss the top of her head as he heaved a sigh.  _My honey is still feeling self-conscious. I need to soothe his feelings so he can relax and enjoy the rest of the night._

“Don’t worry, Benedict, it’s only a little water. It’ll dry soon enough.  No one will notice as long as you stay put,” giggled Donna, reaching under his suit jacket and briefly patting his backside. “Besides what should I say?  The wine spilled on my lap.” 

“It’s a lucky thing you had your napkin covering it.” 

Benedict held her away and looked down at himself again.  “Bloody hell!  It really looks like I pissed myself!” he groused.  “And I went and closed the drapes like a dolt.  They just might think we're shagging ourselves senseless up here.  It almost looks as if I came in my pants for fucks sake!” 

Donna burst out laughing as she gave him a tight hug. “I sincerely doubt that, Benedict. We’d have to be deranged to try something so brazen. I’m sure they just think we were kissing up here.” 

“I suppose you’re right.  We’d have to be utterly daft to have sex in public. Besides, there's not much room. We'd have to use the table.” 

"For all they know, I could be giving you a blow job." 

"Oh, God. I hope not. There is plenty of room to exchange oral favours if one fancied." 

Donna stood back with her hands on her hips while appraising the damage to her dress and the tablescape.  

“Damn. My napkin absorbed most of the wine; but not all…too bad my new dress took a hit.  I was going to wear red tonight; but I thought it was too flashy; so I opted for camel.” 

Benedict looked her up and down and started to laugh. “You look like you’re on your period and got caught without a tampon or sanitary towel.” 

“Thanks.  That’s just what I didn’t need to hear!  However, if that had happened in reality, the stain would have been on the back of my dress, not the front.” 

“I never considered that; but then I’m not a woman.  They’ll just think you’re clumsy is all.” 

“Which I’ve proven many times over that I am!” said Donna woefully. 

“It’s amazing how just a scant three-ounce pour of wine can make such a mess.” 

“It could have been worse. There was a lot more water than wine,” observed Donna. “At least nothing got on the seat cushion or silk pillows, thank God!” said Donna gratefully. 

“Imagine if it had been a full glass of wine.” 

“I don’t think I want to! The water will dry without leaving a stain.  Fortunately, there's just a small stain on the tablecloth." 

“Might I also point out that the glassware remains amazingly intact, so we don’t have to contend with shards of broken crystal.”  

“Some pair we make!” 

Benedict leaned down and kissed her soundly.  “I think we make a perfectly lovely pair.” 

Donna returned the kiss with equal ardor.  “I agree.  We do!” 

“And we were able to have a giggle over it as well.” 

“I like that we can always laugh at our faux pas.” 

“It’s paramount that we’re able to see the humour in these situations, Sweetheart.” 

“Should we ring the bell for Georges to come up?” 

“Not yet. Let’s clean up the mess the best we can before I open the drapes and ring for him. Do you have one of those towelettes that removes stains?” 

“Of course I do,” said Donna, retrieving her handbag from the seat. “Aren’t you glad I always think to carry all this stuff?  You never know when some of it will come in handy.” 

_And this is one of those few times when I’m especially grateful for Donna's over preparedness, bless her._

They used Benedict’s napkin to blot up whatever excess moisture they could from the table cloth and his trousers. Then Donna used the wipe to gently rub off as much as the stain as she could from the tablecloth and her dress. After making sure the tablescape was more or less the way it was prior to the incident, Benedict walked over to the still-covered window. 

“Shall I open the drapes then?” 

Donna took one last look at the table and nodded.  “Go ahead. This is as good as it’s going to get.” 

Benedict drew the drapes open, sat down on his side of the booth and pressed the button to summon Georges.  Most of the kitchen staff had looked up with concerned expressions as soon as the curtain had been drawn aside.  Donna and Benedict could see a small group of chefs huddled at the appetizer station. They were working on two large white plates as Daniel Boulud himself stood in their midst, making suggestions and finally taking over the plating as Georges looked up and nodded at Benedict.  Then he whispered something to Daniel Boulud, who stepped back to admire his work and nodded. Benedict and Donna sat with their hands folded primly on the tabletop, attempting to suppress their laughter. 

_Christ!  I really threw them off their game by doing this,_ thought Benedict. _I wonder if Donna’s realized that I haven’t presented her with a ring yet.  
_

“I…erm…well, as I said before, this wasn’t exactly the way I had originally planned on proposing to you.” 

Donna frowned. “What do you mean?” 

“I was going to do it whilst we were having our dessert course.  I had this long, rambling speech prepared that I kept rehearsing in my mind, which is why I was so distracted earlier. At first, I was feeling very pleased with it. Then the more I kept second-guessing myself, the more nervous I was becoming. I acted purely on impulse when I asked you to marry me." 

"What's so bad about that? The end result would have been the same either way."  Donna smiled at him.  

"I was hoping to make it a more memorable and unique proposal; but my anxiety level was starting to reach an all-time high.  I’m truly sorry for not making a proper proposal speech, Donna. I hope I haven’t disappointed you too terribly.” 

Donna’s hazel eyes widened at his words.  She reached out to take both his large hands in hers. 

“Are you kidding me?  There’s no right or wrong way to propose to a woman, Benedict.  What you did was absolutely perfect for us and the situation!  I think that was the most adorable proposal ever!  I love that you were so clever to take what I had said on the spur of the moment and run with it.  I thought it was cute and funny and you completely caught me off guard, which was the idea, right?  What a great story to tell our children one day!” 

“Thank you, _so_ much for saying that," said Benedict with obvious relief. “It means a lot to me that you aren’t cross. This has been such an extraordinary and emotional evening.” _  
_

The door to the Skybox opened to reveal a smiling Georges and Richard.  They were each holding a large, round white plate that were covered with a shiny silver dome.  The two men stopped short at the sight of the wine-stained table cloth and soiled napkins. Georges whispered something urgently to Richard, who immediately disappeared. 

“Is everything alright?” Georges inquired with a raised eyebrow, looking from Benedict to Donna. 

“As you can see, we had a bit of an accident with the water and wine.  We’re terribly sorry,” began Benedict. 

“He just proposed, and I inadvertently knocked over the glasses in my excitement,” continued Donna with a shy smile.  “I’m really sorry about the mess.” 

Richard and two busboys appeared as if out of nowhere. The table was quickly cleared and reset with replacement glassware, fresh water and clean linens.  Within seconds, Donna and Benedict had a newly set table with clean napkins that were placed in their laps with a flourish. The busboys disappeared while Georges and Richard remained with their plates.  

_I wonder what's under those domes,_ thought Donna. _I do love dinner served with a little drama!_

_They were supposed to do this when they served the pudding course,_ thought a disappointed Benedict.   _I guess they'll find a way to slip the ring to me. Perhaps when Donna leaves to use the loo, which is downstairs. That will buy me some time to come up with an alternate way of presenting it to her._

Pierre, the sommelier burst into the room carrying a tray with two wine goblets. 

“I heard there’s been some excitement of a romantic nature going on up here tonight,” Pierre said, looking from Benedict to Donna and back again.  

“Miss Saint James was just telling me that Mr. Cumberbatch has proposed marriage, which caused a small upset with the glassware,” declared Georges. 

“It was nothing we couldn’t handle though,” added Richard. "I think this was the quickest we've reset a table yet." 

"Things like this have happened often?" Donna inquired.

"Oh, yeah!" laughed Richard.  "We've had people pull off the entire tablecloth with everything landing on the floor if you can believe it." 

Benedict eyed Donna with an amused expression.   _Yes, we can believe it. We had that happen the night we dined at Le Caprice when Donna tucked the edge of the tablecloth into the waistband of her skirt along with her serviette and got up to use the loo._

"Food and drink everywhere," added Georges.  "We've had people get sick, argue - we could write a book."  

“So, what happened? Don’t keep us in suspense!  Did you accept?” demanded Pierre with a twinkle in his green eyes. 

Donna smiled at Benedict and nodded. “Yes, I did.” 

“Fantastic!  Who cares about a little wine and water when it comes to l’amour,” joked Pierre.  “Congratulations to you both.” 

“Congratulations!” echoed Georges and Richard. 

Benedict felt Georges nudge his foot under the table and caught the server giving him a quizzical look as he discretely indicated the silver-domed plate he was holding with his chin and raised an eyebrow ever-so-slightly. 

_Oh! Isn’t Georges the clever one?  He realized what was going on when I drew the curtain shut sooner than expected, and improvised. Well done Georges and kitchen staff!  There will be an extra big gratuity for you tonight._

Benedict gave him a barely perceptible nod of his head that he should continue as planned.  Georges smiled as he looked from Benedict to Donna. 

“Shall I serve the second courses?” 

“I think that would be a brilliant idea,” replied Benedict with a wink. "Donna?" 

"Oh, yes, please. I can't wait to see what's under the domes." 

The huge covered plates were placed before Donna and Benedict.    

“We have butter-poached Monterey Abalone with rosemary-vegetable relish, a crispy zucchini flower and lettuce purée.  There is also a duo of octopus tempura with eggplant caponata, pine nuts marinated with tomato, and house-made ricotta salata,” said Georges with a huge smile. “Enjoy.” 

Pierre placed the wine goblets on the table in turn. “Our wine pairing for this course is Château de Pibarnon Bandol Rosé, Provence 2008. Salut and bon chance!”   

Pierre made sure to close the door on his way out, leaving Donna and Benedict alone once again. 

“I notice they didn’t fill your water glass as much as they did mine,” teased Benedict.  “They’re afraid you’re going to topple the glasses again.” 

“That’s what I love about you. You’re such a wise ass,” retorted Donna. 

“I like the fancy covers,” laughed Benedict, as he felt his heart rate begin to speed up from the anticipation. “It adds an air of mystery, don’t you agree?” 

“It would if we didn’t already know what’s underneath them.” 

_I know what’s underneath them, but you don’t,_ laughed Benedict to himself.  _Mine's empty and yours contains a diamond engagement ring._

“Shall we tuck in then?” suggested Benedict. 

"Yes!  I can't wait to see the presentation!" 

“And I can’t wait for your review of this course.” 

Benedict watched as Donna eagerly lifted the dome off of her plate, releasing a small cloud of lemon and basil scented smoke. 

“Oooo now I understand why they used domes! They used a smoking gun!  I love that affect!” exclaimed Donna excitedly. “It adds such a pleasing exotic quality to a dish…a party for the nose as well as for the eyes and mouth." 

_Holy cow! That sounded like something he would have said._

_Just wait until the smoke clears,_ thought Benedict. 

“I’d better take a photo of this before all the smoke dissipates,” he declared, getting out his camera and snapping away. “You don’t want your readers to miss out on such a lovely special effect!” 

“I don't!  Thank you, Benedict.  I really appreciate it.” 

“The pleasure is all mine, I assure you.” 

The smoke evaporated quickly, and Donna was able to see the contents of her plate clearly.  She was greeted with what looked like a flower made of diamonds nestled inside of a small, heart-shaped, black velvet box. 

_This sure as shit doesn’t look like butter-poached Monterey Abalone or a crispy zucchini blossom to me. It’s a piece of crystal jewelry…how pretty it is!  Whoa hoa...these aren't crystals...holy cow...these are diamonds. It looks like a broach....no, it's a ring._

On closer inspection Donna could see that it was a diamond engagement ring that was designed to resemble a flower occupying the velvet box.  The box in turn was set inside a spotless, iridescent abalone shell. The shell itself was sitting on a mound of artfully strewn bright green seaweed, underneath which was a bed of coarse pink rock salt.  A smattering of tiny colorful sea shells, faux pearls and fresh orchids were scattered about the plate, creating an exceptional arrangement. All Donna could do was gasp and cover her mouth with her hand as she noticed the shank of the ring. 

_This is no broach. This is a ring...a diamond ring.  A huge diamond ring._

_Well, wasn’t that clever of them,_ thought Benedict with great satisfaction, as he photographed Donna’s reaction.  _I was wondering how they were going to work the chocolate egg into the dish. They must be planning on using it for the trinket box I bought for the pudding course. Well done them when it comes to improvisation.  
_

Donna continued to stare at the plate in disbelief, totally dumbstruck, until she realized what she was looking at.  

"Oh my God!  This is my engagement ring!"  

She looked up at Benedict with questioning eyes, and he smiled and nodded that she was correct.  _  
_

“I wasn’t sure whether or not you’d be over the moon about my picking out your ring…” _  
_

_Is he kidding me? It’s the most beautiful ring I’ve ever seen, and this wonderful man chose it for me!  
_

“…but it was paramount to me that I give you something that had a back story…something that would have special meaning for both of us.” 

Donna managed to pull her eyes away from the black velvet box only to stare at Benedict, who was watching her expectantly with a lop-sided smile.  Her eyes were filling with tears as she searched for words. 

“I have never seen anything more beautiful in my life,” she finally blurted out.  “It’s…it’s…it’s…my God I find myself at a loss for words…I’m completely… overwhelmed by this…it’s…it’s…just…” _  
_

_Brilliant! She does fancy it!  Her facial expression said it all, not to mention she’s so surprised that she’s floundering for words. I love it! What a fucking relief.  
_

“It’s what?” Benedict asked her with mock concern. “Is it not what you were expecting, Love?  If its not to your taste, I can…” 

“Benedict, it’s…it’s……beyond beautiful. This ring is absolutely… perfect,” Donna said softly, her face aglow with a radiant smile. "Like you," she added.

“Ah, it sounds as if the ring _is_ to your liking then.  You had me worried.”

 

“YES! Yes, it's to my liking!” squealed Donna.  “Of course it is! I never dreamed I would receive a ring like this in a million years!!” 

“Shall I put it on you so we can make this engagement official yes?”  Benedict crinkled his nose at her and smiled playfully at her.  

_Shit.  I just squealed in the Skybox like a silly school girl being asked to wear my boyfriend's class ring like they did back in Mom and Dad’s day.  I bet they heard me down in the kitchen.  Crap, Daniel Boulud is just on the other side of this wall, sitting in his office.  He had to have heard me.  Oh, who cares!  I just got engaged, and I'm about to try on my ring!_

Donna nodded her head vigorously.  “Oh, yes, please!”  

“I’ll need you to move over then,” instructed Benedict getting to his feet. “And make sure to mind the tablecloth whilst you’re at it.” 

“Stop being such a …a…Jesus, I’m so excited I can’t think straight!” 

“Allow me to help. Were you about to say snarky bastard?” 

“I don’t use snarky, but that’ll do in a pinch. You got the bastard part right though.” 

“Hahahah!  Now if you would kindly move that monstrosity of a handbag out of my way, we can do this before they come back with the actual food.” 

Donna glanced up at him in puzzlement. “I thought we would just eat whatever is on your plate. I could care less if it’s cold or not!” 

“There’s nothing under my dome but an empty plate,” clarified Benedict. “Unless you wish to review air, then I’d better ring for Georges again and tell him you’ve no longer an appetite.  I suppose they could just box up the other course for takeaway, if you fancy.  Shall I ask them?” 

“Very funny, Benedict.  How was I to know that your plate was empty under that dome?” 

He grinned slyly at her. “You weren’t. It was all part of the set up.” 

“I have to give you props for coming up with such a clever plan! I had no clue as to what was going on!” 

“I love it when you’re clueless.  Now, please get rid of that motherfucking bag and move over quick as you can before I’m forced to sit on your lap.” 

“I’m moving! I’m moving!”  Donna said, picking up her handbag. 

“Any day will do now,” sighed Benedict, tapping his foot impatiently, and making a show of consulting his watch. 

Donna stuck her tongue out at him and tossed her handbag under the table and onto the floor as she scooted over, thus allowing Benedict to sit beside her.  He removed the ring from the box as she held out her hand, which was trembling slightly. Benedict gestured to the heart-shaped ruby ring she always wore on her left ring finger. 

“You’ll have to move that ring to your other hand in order to make room for mine, unless you plan on wearing them together.” 

“What ring?  Oh, you mean the one my parents gave me.  Yes, of course…I’ll take it right off…I wish I could stop babbling like an idiot…it’s just that your ring is so…exquisite…I…I still can’t think straight!” 

“And you’re adorable when you babble like that, Love.  The happy result of combining being surprised with the consumption of too many alcoholic libations too quickly,” Benedict mused. "I think you'd best have some water after this is sorted, so you don't get pissed." 

Donna removed the ruby ring her parents had given her and placed it on her right hand.  “Gosh, my hands are shaking…sorry…I can’t wait to see what it looks like on my finger!” 

“Shall I carry on then or would you rather take a moment to compose yourself before I proceed?” 

“Stop teasing me and put it on please!” 

Benedict gently slid the ring onto Donna's finger in one fluid motion. He was pleased to see that it fit perfectly. 

“Voila!  We are now officially engaged!  Shall we seal it with a kiss?” 

“Definitely!” exclaimed Donna, kissing Benedict enthusiastically on his cupids bow lips.  “I love you, Benedict Cumberbatch; and thanks to you, this has been the happiest day of my life.” 

“It is for me as well. God, how I love you,” he murmured against her lips. "I'm so fucking happy right now.”

Benedict proudly watched his fiancée inspecting the glittering ring on her finger.  _It does look breathtaking, and the best part is she’s utterly over the moon with it – of that I have no doubt. I worried for nothing. Well done me._

“The setting is so unique!  It looks just like a flower!  Where did you find it?  Was it in a jewelry store in London?  Did you get it at an estate sale? I want to hear all about how you came to choose this particular ring for me.” 

_I fucking love how excited Donna is. I’ll let her finish gushing and then tell her the backstory when she can actually listen and comprehend it. She’s in no state to right now.  
_

Donna’s mind began to return to reality as she sized up the ring that adorned her finger, a wave of guilt suddenly washing over her. _  
_

_It’s time to get your head out of the clouds, Donna. This diamond must be at least three carats. It had to have cost Benedict a small fortune, which could have been put to better use, such as paying off his mortgage or getting a new car or both. You know damn well that he doesn’t have that kind of money.  Good gravy, I hope to heaven he didn’t go into debt just to impress me or accept money from his parents. They need to save their money for their retirement. I didn’t need anything this ostentatious to be impressed. It’s Benedict himself who impresses me, not a piece of jewelry. His love and support are more important to me than the size of a diamond. I would have been perfectly satisfied with something far smaller in the same setting. It would have been just as pretty and eye-catching. I really need to know where the funds came from, so I can have a clear conscious.  I wonder if we could go back to where he bought it and down-size it?  I need to approach this tactfully so as not to hurt his feelings._

“This center diamond is huge, Ben Honey. How in the world did you…”  

Donna abruptly stopped herself before the words could tumble out of her mouth at the sight of Benedict’s face momentarily clouding over. 

_It’s time to shut up, Donna. That wasn't very tactful at all - it was blunt. Besides he specifically said he didn’t want to discuss finances once already today. It’s none of my business how much Benedict spent on this ring or is it? We’re engaged now, so isn’t it my business?  I can’t see any flaws. There are no obvious inclusions or imperfections visible to the naked eye. He had to have taken out a loan. I know Tim’s family had money; but I doubt he has so much that he can afford to chip in or even pay for my ring. There’s no other explanation that I can see. My honey took out a loan. How can I wear this ring knowing that I’m the reason he’s in more debt?  
_

_Shit.  Donna's concerned that I went into debt to buy her ring.  I’d better tell her the story, so she can calm down and enjoy the rest of her meal._

“Afford it?” finished Benedict.  “That’s a fair question.  I assure you that I didn’t rob a bank nor did I take out a loan,” he chuckled. “The center diamond, which weighs in at three and a half carats, was left to me by my dad’s mum.  It was her wish that it be kept in the Cumberbatch family and given to her eldest grandson, who just happens to be sitting beside you.” 

_It’s his Grandmother’s ring!  What a relief!  Part of me also can’t believe he trusts me with a family heirloom! I'd better make it my business to be extra careful when wearing it._

“Thank God!! I am so happy to hear you say that, Benedict! I was worried you had taken out a loan so you could buy this ring!” 

Benedict brushed back her fringe and kissed her lightly on the forehead.  “I could see it in your face and completely understand why you thought you had cause for concern.  Rest assured that's not the case.” 

“So this was your Grandma Pauline’s ring?” 

“Yes and no. Only the center diamond belonged to her.  I had it removed from the original setting because I truly didn’t think you would fancy it.   Besides, I felt you should have a setting as unique and wonderful as you are…and I wanted to design the ring myself as a token of my love and future commitment to you.” 

_This man has just set the gold standard for a marriage proposal. I can’t believe the attention he paid to every detail, no matter how small.  I am so damn lucky to have him in my life._

“You designed my ring,” repeated Donna in awe. “What a lovely, sentimental thing to do, Benedict.  I couldn’t think of a nicer tribute to our love.  The fact that you have entrusted your Grandma’s cherished diamond to my care is not only endearing, but the ultimate compliment.  I’m so touched and proud to wear it as a symbol of your love.  I will not only treasure it always; but most importantly I will treasure you.” 

Benedict felt choked up as his heart swelled with pride and the love that he felt for her at that moment.  

_I did the right thing. Dad was on point when he said that Donna would be honoured to wear Gran’s diamond. I can’t hold back these fucking tears much longer.  I was really hoping to tamp them down until I could be alone in her flat._

"Your words have touched me in ways I can't adequately express," he said softly. 

"I meant every word from the bottom of my heart." 

The couple sat for a few minutes in companionable silence, sipping their wine and eating some of the delicious bread. Benedict found he couldn't take his eyes off her hand as Donna went about buttering a slice of the walnut raisin bread.  

"It looks smashing on your hand, as if it belongs there,” observed Benedict. _  
_

“That’s because it does,” quipped Donna with a wink.  “Did you have the ring made up in London?” 

“No. Your Uncle Frank turned my sketch into reality.” 

“Uncle Frank?”  Donna began to laugh.  “What’s wrong with me? I should have recognized the heart-shaped box.  He’s always used them for engagement and wedding rings. Not to mention it fits perfectly.” 

“In fact, you might be interested in knowing that you actually picked out the setting.” 

“I’m not following you.” 

“Well, I didn’t want the setting to be a plain run-of-the-mill one. Believe me, I looked at dozens and dozens of settings whilst doing my research, but I just couldn’t find one that I fancied. Then I realized that given your fondness for flowers, a floral theme seemed to be the answer; and an idea was born. Remember those sketches of flowers that you came across on my desk?” 

Donna barked out a laugh as the realization set in.  “Yes! I can’t believe I didn’t pick up on that! Those were your designs for my ring!  You were such a clever bastard to ask me to pick out my favorite flower.” 

“Ah, it’s so much nicer to be labeled a clever bastard than a snarky one,” quipped Benedict. 

“Stop teasing me and continue where you left off!” 

“Well, at first, I nearly had a meltdown when you showed the sketches to me; then I realized I could use it to my advantage and asked you which one you fancied most. Happily, you and I fancied the same one.” 

Donna held up her hand to the candle light to watch her ring sparkle.  “It is exactly like your drawing now that I have a chance to take a really good look at it.  Oh, Benedict Honey, I just love it!  It’s perfect, and you are the dearest man I have ever known. Not one of the others I dated can come close to comparing with you.  I'm so blessed that you want to share your life with me.”  

She kissed him and rested her head on his shoulder. Benedict nuzzled her neck, causing her to shiver. 

“Can I safely assume that my favorite critic is pleased with the content and preparation of today’s special dish then?” 

“You may bask in the knowledge that this critic gave her engagement ring a rave review,” Donna said with a smile. “Five stars!” 

Benedict felt the tears he had been holding back stinging his eyes.  He swallowed hard and removed his handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at his eyes.   

“Oh, fuck! This is where I’m going to get all soppy on you.” 

“As long as we can get soppy together,” Donna said softly as she teared up as well. “You are an amazing man, Benedict. love how romantic you are!” 

“Thank you,” he said in a husky voice, tears spilling over onto his cheeks.  “I promised myself I wasn’t going to do this…damn.  I can’t hold them back any longer.” 

“Showing your emotions is one of many wonderful things about you that made me fall in love with you,” whispered Donna, her voice choked with emotion. 

Benedict handed her his handkerchief so she could wipe away her tears, after which she wiped away his.  It didn't take long before the couple had composed themselves.   

“Shall we ask Georges to take a photo of us that we can email to everyone, showing them that we’re now engaged?” Benedict asked her. 

“Yes!  That’s a great idea.  We can send it to our immediate families tonight.” 

“The others can wait until tomorrow,” agreed Benedict. 

“I can’t wait for my parents to see this ring!” laughed Donna.  “They are going to shit themselves.  Can you imagine the look on their faces?” 

Benedict snorted as he picked up his mobile. “I don’t have to imagine it, I've already seen it for myself." 

Donna frowned at him in bewilderment.  "What are you talking about?" 

"Your parents have already seen the ring, and their reaction has been recorded for posterity.” 

“When?” 

“I had lunch with your parents yesterday because I wanted to tell them of my intentions and properly ask for their blessing." 

_He only told them yesterday?  Oh, what a brave man he is...or foolish.  I'm not sure which until he tells me the whole story._

"I made sure to have the camera feature on so I could capture their expressions when I showed them the ring.  I’ve even got a short video to show you later.  Wait…here we are!  You are going to love this!” 

Donna had picked up her water and had taken a mouthful.  She immediately spit it all over the table upon seeing the photo of her parents as they gawked at the ring. Benedict groaned inwardly as the water extinguished the flame on the candle. 

“OH NO!” cried Donna. “I hope you have your lighter with you.” 

Benedict regarded her with a raised eyebrow.  “I quit smoking, remember? And I’m not buzzing Georges to come light the candle again and change the tablecloth. We'll have to make due without candlelight and a damp table cloth.” 

Donna took the cellphone from Benedict and enlarged the photo. 

“For fucks sake, Benedict!  How did you think I would react! This is priceless!  Hahaha!  They look totally shocked and amazed at the same time.  Oh, I have to send it to Carly and Kenny!” 

Benedict chuckled.  “It’s already made the rounds of your siblings as well as the video.  Steve saw to that last night.  Your brother even called to congratulate me on a job well done.” 

“I want to see the video!  I need to hear all about this lunch...the whole plan actually.” 

“I’ll tell you over dinner.  I can see Georges heading this way with our real second or is it the third course?" 

“I’ve lost count.” 

“I’d better go back to my side of the table, so your handbag can have it’s seat back. Heaven forbid it should have to remain on the floor.” 

“Why don’t you stay here for the rest of the night?  There’s no law that requires you to sit across from me.” 

“Because your handbag will be lonely down there on the floor. It’s used to sitting by your side,” teased Benedict, as he slid out of the booth and returned to his seat.  “Besides, you and I don’t fare especially well in close quarters. We're lucky we just ate that bread without incident." 

“I beg to differ.  We do some of our best co-mingling in close quarters,” snickered Donna, giving his a lascivious smile and wink. “And I’ll be happy to prove it to you when we get back to my place.” 

Benedict leered at her.  _Brilliant! I will get laid tonight._ _There I go thinking with my knob once again._

“Perhaps we can take away the remainder of the meal…” 

“No way!  Here comes the domes again with the…which course was it again?” 

“I don’t give a toss which course it is or isn’t. The important thing is we’re going to be married!”  Benedict reached out and took both her hands in his, kissing the backs of them. 

“I can’t believe we’re finally engaged,” Donna exclaimed.  

“Believe it, my Darling; because we are,” replied Benedict Cumberbatch, feeling on top of the world as they admired the engagement ring that adorned his fiancée’s finger.  “And this ring is the proof.”

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I always seen Benedict as the type who would go to great pains to design the perfect ring for his intended, given his artistic flair and sentimental nature. 
> 
> 2\. The ring photos were the closest I could find of what I envisioned Benedict's ring design to look like.
> 
> 3\. This chapter was meant to be very sweet, romantic and sentimental.
> 
> 4\. In order to temper the cuteness overload, I added Donna's tablecloth mishap, which turned out to be difficult to write as this all takes place in a few seconds.
> 
> 5\. The photo posted of Benedict's smile is one of my favorites.
> 
> 6\. I won't be posting next Sunday, due to it being Mother's Day here in the US. I wish all my lovely readers who are Mom's a very Happy Mother's Day!


	128. Chapter 128

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Cumberbatch and Saint James families react to the happy confirmation of their children’s engagement. 
> 
> Note: I’ll be using ************ to indicate things happening at the same time.

 

It was almost one thirty in the morning when Carly Cipriano placed the foil-wrapped hunk of birthday cake from Ferrara’s Bakery in her refrigerator and shut the door while heaving a deep sigh of annoyance.

“Have you finally given up on them?” asked Steve as he entered the kitchen wearing his pajamas and slippers.  “You look like you’re about to keel over.”

“I think I have. This birthday girl is exhausted from all the partying we did tonight.  I can barely keep my eyes open,” yawned Carly, pulling her blonde curls back into a ponytail. She paused to fasten it with an elastic band that had been on her wrist.  “Those eight-course tasting dinners plus surprise marriage proposals can drag on indefinitely or so it seems,” she laughed. 

“The one we had at Bouley tonight sure did, and it was only six miserable courses.”

“I know – it was like time had come to a standstill.”

“Remind me never to suggest doing a tasting dinner with your parents again.”

“Just think.  We get to do this all over again on Sunday night.”

“I’m trying my best not to.  Do you realize your mother sent back something in every course?  Every single course, which makes six items that didn’t meet with her satisfaction.”

“Come on, Hon.  It wouldn’t be the same if Mom didn’t send back something during a meal.  Now that I think about it, Ben didn’t say she sent back anything when they had lunch.”

“He remarked that she must have sent back his coffee, when he called me from the lobby because when he got back to the table he almost burned his mouth on it.”

“Well, you know Mom.  Food and drink can never be hot or cold enough for her – or anyone else,” Snickered Carly.

“Ben’s going to love the rolling cheese cart.”

“It’s called the Chariot de Fromage.  Donna’s going to love the Chariot de Pain.”

“Speaking of which, I could not believe that your mother sent back the fucking bread! Who sends back bread, Carly? How embarrassing was that?”

“I don’t even want to think about it!  That poor server rolled his eyes so much; I thought they were going to get stuck. Donna and Ben have no idea how lucky there were to have missed out on the Bouley experience, damn them!”

“Don’t worry, Babe.  The happy couple will get their chance to experience the Neil and Toni Show at Bouley when we return on Sunday night to celebrate their engagement.”

“Stop reminding me! Who’s brilliant idea was it to go back there?”

“Mine and Ben’s. Besides, don’t you want to celebrate your birthday with your sister?”

“As long as there’s another birthday cake to look forward to, I suppose I can subject myself to another night of second-hand embarrassment.”

“I promise you that this cake will be better than a Bouley cake, Carly.  We got permission to bring in our own cake from Ron-Ben Israel, the man who made our wedding cake.”

“Now, that is an incentive to behave myself.”

“I was telling Ben that I normally despise wedding cake, but ours really was delicious.”

“It should have been for what it cost my father to fly him out to Orlando to bake it,” retorted Carly as she held out her hand. “Can I see the photos again?”

“Of course, you can. At least Ben thought to send us a photo so we know he popped the question and she said yes,” smiled Steve, picking up his cellphone from the countertop and scrolling through his photos.  “Not that I had any doubt.  Here you go.”

Carly smiled fondly at the photo of her twin and Benedict sitting side-by-side in the booth in the Skybox.  An excited-looking Donna was holding up her hand so the ring was clearly visible, as Benedict sat with his arm around her shoulders.  Their heads were pressed together, and they were smiling happily for the camera.  Then there was another one of Donna sitting on Benedict’s lap in what must have been an armchair in the bar lounge, arms around his neck as he pointed to the ring on her hand, which she was again displaying for the camera.  Both of them were wearing huge, loopy smiles on their faces.

“My sister looks drunk in the second one,” Carly observed with a giggle.

“So does your future brother-in-law,” laughed Steven.

“Donna’s not used to drinking more than one or two drinks at a time.”

“Ben was having champagne, cocktails, a wine flight and after dinner drinks.”

“I also wouldn’t be surprised if they were served complimentary champagne right after they got engaged.”

“From a medical standpoint, they would definitely be feeling the effects by now.  It doesn’t seem like a whole hell of a lot; but when you add it up it’s the equivalent of five or six drinks, provided they finished every last drop. That’s enough to inebriate anyone, even a self-proclaimed, seasoned drinker like Ben.”

“I don’t need a medical degree to tell me that they both look like they had too much to drink.  Another clue is that Donna’s been texting me weird stuff from the bathroom. She apparently approves of the cut of Ben’s new suit and how nicely his pants fit around his ass.  She also informs me that he dresses to the left."

"Some things are better off un-texted; however, most men do dress to the left."

"Did they teach you that in medical school?"

"I'm going to choose to ignore that wiseass remark, Carla."

"My sister is totally obsessed with his ass. Hahaha!"

"Was that all? No food pictures? Just shots of Ben's butt?"

"I’ve received several variations of it and one sneaky photo taken when he got hot and removed his suit jacket during dinner.”

Steve cocked an eyebrow at his wife. “And?”

“And what?”

“Don’t keep me in suspense, Carly!  Were his pants…well cut?”

Carly looked up at her husband with a smirk.  “Too bad I left my phone upstairs or I’d read it to you.  She basically said that they clung to him like a second skin and each cheek looked like a firm…”

Steve held up his hand.  “Okay! I’ve got the gist of it.  He’s got a competent tailor.”

Carly chuckled.  “I’d say it sounds like he’s more than competent. She compared his butt cheeks to two perfectly formed boule loaves.”

“Shit,” muttered Steve.  “Why did I have to ask?”

“This is according to Donna, not me.  I wish I could remember it all. How about if I run upstairs and get my cell.”

“Thanks for the offer, Babe; but I think I’ve heard enough about Ben’s pants and his butt.”

“To be fair, you did ask.”

“For which I now deeply regret having done.”

“They should have been home by now, don’t you think?” asked Carly, glancing up at the Mickey Mouse wall clock.  “Mom wants me to call her as soon as they get back.”

“I think they must have been waiting for a cab to come pick them up when they took the photo in the bar.  It you look at it closely, you can see their coats draped over the arm of the chair. They’d be crazy to walk in this weather, even though it’s only an avenue away.”

“I hope so.  You know how Donna loves to walk everywhere.”

“Look outside, Babe, there’s a good three inches down already; so getting a cab isn’t going to be easy tonight.  Why don’t you go to bed, and I’ll wait up for them.  I can watch the Rangers game I taped earlier and have some more of that cake.  I’ll also call the Neil and Toni Show for you so they can stop broadcasting for the night.”

“Hey! That cake is for Donna and Ben,” warned Carly, wagging her finger at her husband.  “Don’t forget to give it to them when they come in.”

“I won’t.  Besides I was just thinking that a little brandy might be more appropriate if I’m going to call your parents.”

“Thanks for calling my parents; Hon. I owe you big time.”

“Hmmm…I know just how you can repay me, too.  I think I’d like to sleep in and have breakfast in bed.  Could you make those pumpkin pecan pancakes and some of that thick-cut, black pepper bacon that you bought the other day?”

“Sure.  That’s an easy order.”

“Maybe some scrambled eggs on the side, too.  I like when you top them with shredded cheddar.”

“Okay.  One side order of my famous cheddar scrambled eggs.”

“Maybe I’ll also have a half grapefruit to start.  I like when you sprinkle brown sugar over the top and broil it so it gets nice and crackly.”

“Okay. I can do that, too.”

“Cappuccino would be nice instead of regular coffee.  Decaf, if you don’t mind.  I’m trying to cut back on my caffeine intake.”

“Will there be anything else, Doctor?”

“Yes.  I’ll do the cleanup afterwards.”

“Deal!”

Steve looked out the kitchen window.  “Well, since it looks like we’ll be snowed in most of the day tomorrow, we can have a leisurely breakfast in bed and finish last Sunday’s New York Times crossword puzzle.”

“Sounds like a good way to spend the morning.  Goodnight!”

Steve kissed her goodnight, and Carly disappeared up the stairs leading to their bedroom on the second floor of the brownstone.  He poured himself a quarter snifter of brandy and settled back on the couch.  Then he turned on the TV so he could check the progress of the storm before playing back his hockey game.

 

*******************************************************

 

Timothy Carlton lay on his side in bed, staring at the bedside clock.

_It must be almost half one in the morning in New York.  I know Ben had a late dinner booking; but this late?  I suppose it’s time for me to haul my arse out of bed and see what, if anything, Wanda has heard. It’s also just about time for breakfast!  I smell bacon and coffee, so I’m hoping there’s a nice bacon bap in my future._

Timothy smiled to himself as he heard the approaching hurried footsteps out in the hallway. 

_Ah, there must be news from New York finally!_

“TIM!  It’s done!” Wanda shouted as she burst into their bedroom and approached the bed in the darkness.

“I’m awake and can hear you loud and clear, Wanda.  There’s no need to bellow like that,” laughed Timothy as he slowly turned over in bed. “Oy, my back is brutal this morning!” he groaned.

“It must be the dampness from all the rain we’ve been having.”

“No, I think it’s because I stayed too long on my side.”

“What can I do to help ease it, Love – besides getting your meds in you?”

“Would you mind terribly helping me with the fucking pillows?”

Wanda switched on his bedside lamp and adjusted his pillows so he could easily get into a sitting position. “Better?”

“Much. I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he smiled gratefully at her. “I take it breakfast is ready then.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Breakfast – you know, the first meal of the day. You said it was done, so I assumed that you...”

“It’s nothing to do with food!”

“I was wondering why you were announcing that my bacon bap was ready with such unbridled enthusiasm,” he teased.

“I’m glad to see you’re awake. I thought you might still be sleeping.”

“I was until I heard you hoovering the lounge around half four. You know the door to our bedroom can be closed or were you trying to impress me with your tidying up for the cleaning woman?”

Wanda sat on the edge of the bed and bounced a bit.  Timothy could see the excitement in her ice blue eyes.

_Our boy has gone and done it.  I can see it in her eyes.  She’s bursting to tell me; but is trying to make a little small talk to keep me in suspense. Now, I know where Ben gets his flair for the dramatic from._

“Why didn’t you pop out and keep me company then?  I’ve been up most of the night and would have appreciated having someone to chat with.”

“I thought I might try and go back to sleep; but it wasn’t meant to be; so I decided to just have a lie in until now.”

“I’m sorry if I disturbed your sleep, Tim.  It was rude of me not to think to shut the door all the way.”

“It’s quite alright. We’ve both been on edge, and I can tell from the way this bed is bouncing that you might have something to share with me yes?”

“You told me to wake you as soon as I had news from New York.”

“And you did a jolly good job of it, albeit a tad early.”

Wanda smiled widely at him. “Oh, stop being cheeky, you! Ben just sent us two lovely photos and an email!  They’re engaged, Tim!”

Timothy grinned and clapped his hands together. “That’s brilliant!  Now, I can ring up the Times and place the announcement.”

“Will it be in tomorrow’s paper then?  The Sunday papers have the largest readership.”

“I’m not quite sure how that works, being I’ve never actually placed one myself.”

“Oh, Tim, I want to go up onto the roof terrace and shout out our happy news to the world!”

“That would certainly be a hell of a lot cheaper than placing an ad in the Times.”

“It was a metaphor,  Love.  I had no intention of doing such a thing.”

“That’s a comfort to hear because even though you’re excellent at projecting, I’m afraid that your voice would only carry as far as the High Street.”

“I’ve never been happier.  To think that our Ben is finally engaged to such a wonderful bird!  I wonder if he’ll want to get married in Saint Mary Abbots or Old Hallows?”

“I think it would have to be at Old Hallows as that’s his parish.”

“Old Hallows is a perfectly lovely church, but I think Saint Mary Abbots is even nicer.  Besides, it’s the church Ben was christened and grew up in.  I’m sure he can get permission to marry there. After all, he meets all the requirements – he was christened and confirmed there, and we are long-standing parishioners.”

_And so it begins.  I honestly didn’t think my wife would start doing her research so soon. Hmm… she has been up all night, so she’s had plenty of time to do searches on the internet.  Fuck me!  This is going to be a long engagement._

“I think you’re forgetting someone here, Pet. What about the bride? You also have to take Donna’s wishes into consideration.  She may not fancy an Anglican church wedding.”

Wanda blinked at her husband in surprise. “That’s preposterous! How could she not fancy being married at Saint Mary’s?”

“Well, for one:  Donna isn’t Anglican, and two neither of them is especially religious – by both their own admissions.  They may choose a non-secular venue – like the place they decide to hold their wedding breakfast.”

“Saint Mary’s makes perfect sense as it’s so close to the Roof Gardens.”

_And now we’ve moved onto where they should hold the wedding breakfast. Ben will be chuffed to find out that his mum’s done all the legwork for them. The Wanda Express has left the station, and there is no stopping it.  I’ll just sit here and let her get it out of her system.  It’s obvious I’m not going to get a word in until she’s ready for me to.  
_

“I even suggested to Ben that he take Donna up to the Roof Gardens for lunch and to have a wander around one day.  The view over Kensington is like no other, and the plantings are just spectacular in the spring and summer!  It’s such a lovely venue for an outdoor wedding breakfast, don’t you think, Tim?”

_Ah, I’m permitted to speak._

“I think…”

“I suppose they could have the ceremony up there as well.  There's a lovely gazebo and long reflecting pool...as long as the flamingos don't go parading about and detracting from the ceremony or the photos.  What do you think?”

_You’re not letting me.  I’ll give it another try._

“I think…”

“You know they could also hold the wedding out in Gloucestershire.  The old stone church we belong to is utterly charming and there are many estates in the area that host wedding breakfasts.  They could even have the ceremony there as well, should Donna not fancy being married in a church – though I still can’t see why she wouldn’t.  What do you think?”

_Christ on a crutch!  All I want is my blasted bacon butty and a hot cuppa, not to discuss potential wedding plans for my son._

"I'm beginning to think you may have missed your calling as a wedding planner."

"Actually, I could see myself doing that in my twilight years."

"You _are_ in your twilight years already, so you'd best hurry then."

"You still haven't told me what you think."

_If she'd just shut the fuck up, I would tell her exactly what I think and then some._

“Wanda, is this the courtesy ‘what do you think’ or are you really ready to receive my opinion this time?”

Wanda blinked at him and regarded him in puzzlement.  Timothy smiled inwardly as she always reminded him of one of her stuffed barn owls when she did that.

“I always want to know what you think, Timothy.  You know I value your opinion highly.”

_Hmmm…well, you certainly had me fooled this time. If there’s one thing I’ve learnt after thirty-three years of marriage, is that my wife values my opinion only if it matches her own - otherwise it's rubbish as far as she's concerned._

“Alright then, since you asked.  For what little it’s surely worth: I think it’s up to Benedict and Donna to sort out where they want to be married and hold their wedding breakfast.”

“In other words you think I should mind my own business,” Wanda huffed.

“I couldn’t have put it more succinctly.”

Wanda sat back against the head board and crossed her ankles.  Then she crossed her arms across her bosom and sighed deeply with annoyance.  “You really know how to put a damper on things.”

“I'm now going to put a further damper on things, so you might as well prepare yourself. Have you ever considered that they might choose to marry in New York?”

Wanda looked aghast. “Not for one bloody minute,” she retorted.  “London is Ben’s home!”

“And New York is Donna’s.”

“It doesn’t make sense for them to marry in New York.  Their work is here, and they live here.  They would be daft planning a wedding in New York whilst living in London.”

Timothy sighed and pulled Wanda against him, so her head rested on his shoulder.  “I really detest playing devil’s advocate again; but…”

_No, you don’t, Tim.  You’re enjoying this immensely._  

“Bloody hell!  Now what?”

“Benedict’s work and home are here in London, true. However, Donna’s only here on a temporary work visa; and she owns part of a home in New York.  You may recall that she’s waiting to hear back as to whether her work visa will be renewed for another year. What if they don’t renew it for some reason?”

“She can always apply for a family visa or for permanent residency.  They must have some kind of visa that suits her situation.  One of Ben's lawyer friends can sort it out for them.”

"Rob Rinder is a barrister and Dennis Bretherton is a solicitor, whose specialty is personal injuries."

"Yes, but they both went to law school; so surely they've had some training in immigration law.  Anyway, one of them must know someone who can get a special visa started for Donna."

“Those types of visas that you're talking about can sometimes take upwards of twelve weeks to process.”

“I see you’ve been doing your homework as well.”

“These questions have crossed my mind as well, Pet.”

“I’m not at all worried.  Dennis or Rob may not have any personal experience with visas; but they will surely know someone in immigration who can help expedite a visa for Donna.” 

“And maybe not.  They may not have any connections.  Neither of them are immigration lawyers as I've already pointed out."

"Hells bells!  You keep trying to dash my hopes, Tim!"

"Not at all, Love.  I'm trying to present both sides of the coin to you.  Here's another one :  Donna may not fancy living here permanently. Then what happens?"

“Benedict would never relocate to the States on a permanent basis.  He loves living in London.  He’s said it many times.”

“Never say never. Things change all the time, Wanda.  People get married and things change.  Once Benedict and Donna are married, it will no longer be about what he wants solely.  He’ll be half of a couple; so Donna’s wishes are going to come into play. Then when children enter the picture, it will also be a deciding factor in where they decide to put down permanent roots. In the end they will do what suits them best as a family unit.”

“Donna’s completely besotted with our Ben.  She’ll acquiesce to his wishes.  She’s so much as told him that she wouldn’t mind living in London being that’s where his work is.  He told me so himself.”

“That comment was uttered in a pub when Donna had too much hard cider to drink.  Have you ever considered that Ben may not always have job offers in London? What if he were to start getting work in the states? Hollywood or New York might come calling one day. He’d be daft to commute back and forth across the pond, especially since Donna already owns a house in New York. They could simply live there.”

"What about Donna's work?"

"I'll guarantee you that Neil Saint James can get his daughter a job writing a column for the New York Times or one of the other New York papers."

Wanda sighed deeply. “You’ve taken all the wind out of my sails, damn you.”

_Splendid! The Wanda Express has been temporarily derailed. Now we can have our breakfast!_

“I strongly suggest we stay out of the wedding plans, Wanda, unless specifically asked,” warned Timothy.  “You know how stropy Benedict gets whenever you give him unsolicited advice or suggestions when it comes to his personal life. I also think you would want to avoid any chance of ruining the fine relationship you’ve built with Donna.”

“Once again I’m guilty of letting my emotions override my common sense. I would never want to do anything that would jeopardize my relationship with either of them.”

“May I also remind you that you’ve already planned two weddings of your own, in addition to helping Tracy plan hers.”

“Tracy invited me to help her with the planning and appreciated my inputs.”

“I’m well aware, Pet.  However, Tracy is your daughter; and her asking for your help was perfectly natural.  Donna isn’t your daughter.  She has a mother, whose help I’m sure she’ll want.”

“Ha! I wouldn’t be so cock sure about that,” scoffed Wanda.  “I can just see Toni trying to take over all the plans.  I’m not so sure Donna has what it takes to stand up to her mother.”

“Lucky for Donna then that Benedict does.  Our son would never tolerate that type of interference from the likes of Antonia Saint James,” pointed out Timothy.  “He’s been yearning to get married for years now, and no one is going to come between him and his dream wedding, except for Donna, of course.”

“I think they will be pretty much on the same page,” mused Wanda.

“Maybe, maybe not.  Donna, I’m sure, has her own ideas about what her dream wedding should entail; and if they conflict with Benedict’s, they are going to butt heads.  And should that come to pass, we need to sit back and allow them to sort it out between them.  It’s not for us to meddle, and definitely not for her parents.”

“I just wish I could share my ideas with them, Tim.  I’m sure if they gave me just five minutes of their time to listen, they would…”

“Get good and stropy with you.”

“I was going to say be over the moon with them.”

“The point is, Wanda, you’ve had three opportunities to plan weddings; and you did a smashing job each time. That should be enough for you.  It’s time to let Benedict and Donna have fun making their own wedding plans.”

“And you think Neil and Toni will stand by and not have any input whatsoever.”

“Quite the contrary, I’m completely confident that Donna’s parents will be sticking their noses into things and stirring up trouble for her and Ben.  So, why don’t we act the good parents and just go with the flow, yes?”

Wanda looked up at Timothy and a smile slowly spread across her face.  “And if they manage to aggravate them, which I’m also sure they will, we’ll be the ones who Ben and Donna will come to if they need advice!”

Timothy returned the smile and nodded.  “That’s the idea.”

“I do hate it when you make perfect sense.”

“And I do love when you acknowledge it.”

“I just had a horrible thought, Tim.”

_How I hate it when they think.  It’s always trouble._

“The bride’s family traditionally pays, so Neil and Toni will automatically assume it’s their God-given right to interfere in the planning.”

_Hmmm…that is a rather worrisome thought.  I could see the wankers using that as a trump card should they not agree with something Donna and Ben want to do._

“That’s something I failed to consider in the grand scope of things. You’ve just brought up a chilling thought, Pet.”

“We could try and circumvent that by offering to help out by paying for some things ourselves – perhaps the flowers and the cake and even the wedding stationery.  It would be our wedding gift to Ben and Donna.”

Timothy paused to consider Wanda’s idea.  “That’s actually not a bad idea at all.  I think I rather like that!”

“Then they can’t have a say in those things.  I wish we could pay for the whole thing. Then they’d have to keep their bloody mouths shut.”

“Well, we could actually,” said Timothy.  “We did put aside a respectable amount for when Ben got engaged and married.  The original plan was to give him enough for a down payment on a home; but he’s already a home owner.”

“I seriously doubt Ben would accept our offering to pay for his entire wedding.”

“I was just thinking aloud, and relish what I’m about to say:  this time _you’re_ right.  Benedict wouldn’t accept our offer to pay for everything.”

“Excuse me, but I had a hard time hearing you.  Might you repeat that please?” asked Wanda, cupping her hand around her ear.

“I said you were right.”

“Ah, that was sweet music to my ears…speaking of which, we could offer to pay for the DJ as well.”

“We could; however, things are different nowadays, Pet. Tradition does call for the bride’s family to pay; but for all we know, Benedict and Donna may insist on paying for the wedding themselves in order to avoid having to cow tow to her parents.  I’m sure Benedict has already considered the possibility many times over already.  Let’s hold off on making an offer to contribute until we see how this plays out.  The last thing we need is to get into a row with her family or our son over money. Those types of discussions never end well and only serve to cause hard feelings. As I said before, we will fare far better by only offering advice and suggestions if asked.”

Wanda considered her husband’s words again and nodded in agreement.  “It’s going to take every ounce of my self-control; but you’re right. Benedict has always sought our advice on issues that are of paramount importance to him.  I realize he's got Donna for a sounding board now, but should differences arise between them; he'll come to us. And as for Donna's parents, the less said to those wankers, the better.”

“Unfortunately, we do have to speak to said wankers today.”

“What for?”

“As the groom’s parents, tradition dictates that we should ring Neil and Toni to offer our congratulations.”

“That’s rather old-fashioned, isn’t it? I was planning to add our good wishes when I email Toni our flight info after breakfast.”

“It’s the proper thing to do, plus I have an ulterior motive.  I’m going to ask Neil if he can use his connections with the Times to get our engagement announcement to run in tomorrow’s paper.  Surely, he’ll have some pull or at the very least have his mate, Rodney fucking Renfield make sure it runs.  We might even get it for gratis because we're going to be family after all.”

Wanda raised an eyebrow at him. “Isn’t that taking advantage of Neil’s position?”

“Of course it is, but I prefer to think of it as compensation for those awful, unwarranted reviews he gave Benedict years ago.  It’s also another reason why I’m eager to see the right bastard pay for the whole wedding.  He gave our son shite reviews; but at least he can make up for it by giving Ben a deluxe wedding people will talk about for years to come.”

“I like how you think, Timothy Cumberbatch.”

“I like how I think as well.”

Timothy picked up the television remote and turned on the BBC Morning News.  They sat quietly for several minutes, watching the headline news stories of the day. As soon as they weather report was over, he clicked it off. 

"Everything in the world is status quo for now. Rain and wind are forecast for this morning, as if we couldn't hear it for ourselves," he chuckled. "At least it's going to stop soon."

“All things considered, I’m so happy, Tim, I could just burst!” exclaimed Wanda as she gave him a hug and kiss.  “Our Benedict is finally engaged! Well done us - mission accomplished.”

“Not quite, Love.  They still have to get married.  When a vicar or priest proclaims them husband and wife, then we can safely say mission accomplished with a sense of a job well done.”

“ _I_ can say.  It was _my_ plan after all.”

“And indeed it was, Commander; however, as a loyal foot soldier, I should be able to share in the credit as well...unless something goes awry and he finds out.  Then you may feel free to take sole credit.”

“Oh, Timothy!  Stop being such a pessimist!  The end is in sight!  Once they're married with children it won’t matter a fig to anyone anymore.”

“Except to Benedict. The possibility will always exist that he may find out one day.”

“I doubt Benedict will ever find out, if he hasn’t by now.”

“Never, say ‘never’, Commander.”

“Besides as Donna’s mother rightfully pointed out to her, she and Ben met on their own. We’re in the clear.”

“Forever the optimists, bless you both,” said Timothy. “Toni can say whatever she pleases, because she’s not a direct party to it.”

“Toni's a lawyer and knows what she’s talking about. I still think we’re safe.”

“And if everything goes to hell, then Barrister Saint James can defend us being she’s so adamant that we’re blameless.  I’d love to see her try and convince the Court of Benedict of that.”

“Oh for fucks sake!  Well, I’m not going to think about that right now. I’ll worry about that tomorrow.” 

“As you wish, Scarlett O’Hara.”

“Stop being so stropy, Timothy!  I need you to turn on the Cumberbatch charm. We need to place a Skype call to our future in-laws to properly congratulate them.”

“Right you are again!” Timothy patted Wanda on the shoulder.  “Now, that’s more like it, Darling!  Thank you for embracing a positive attitude.”

“What do you think I should wear? I certainly can’t be seen in my jeans and this old pink button-down shirt.”

“Why the hell not?  You look fine to me.  Unless you’ve taken a fancy to dressing up for breakfast.  I do think it’s a bit much; but then…”

“I’m talking about when we make the Skype call to Donna's parents for fucks sake!  I won’t have Toni seeing me looking like a haus frau!” exclaimed Wanda indignantly. “You saw how she was dressed the last time we saw them on Skype.”

“To be honest, I didn’t notice because I was blinded by the glare coming off of your golden slippers.”

Wanda glowered at Timothy.  “Very funny.  I really am going to ask your agent about getting you a gig as a comic. She was in a smart suit and decked out in all her jewelry - her make up and hair perfect.  It was as if she were going out on the town."

"Perhaps she was heading out to court. Lawyers can't show up in court looking a fright you know."

"There’s nothing wrong with my wanting to look nice for them, is there, Tim?”

“No, of course not; but you look more than presentable as is, Wanda.  You’ve got your makeup on and your hair’s done up nicely in that twisty thing…”

“It’s called a French twist,” said Wanda impatiently.

“Duly noted, Commander.  I’ll do my utmost not to fuck that up in the future. French twisty thing it is forevermore. You know I think you’re more concerned with impressing Colin Saint James, rather than his daughter-in-law,” said Timothy, side-eyeing her.

“Well, I do have a reputation to maintain as a former starlet.”

_I won’t touch that comment with a ten foot pole.  I’m just going to sit here and inhale that lovely aroma of fried bacon that I doubt I’m going to get at this rate._

“In his eyes, of course,” Wanda added hastily, realizing what she had said.  “Not mine.”

“Suit yourself then; but my stomach alarm tells me it’s time for a bit of sustenance first.  I realize my nose is not on a par with our son’s; but I do recognize coffee and bacon when I smell it yes?”

“Yes, your sense of smell is working just fine. Now, let’s fortify ourselves before we ring up Donna’s parents.  Then we’ll ring Ben and Donna right afterwards, so we can pick a date to hold the engagement party at the Garrick Club.”

“You’re forgetting the time difference. They probably just went to bed not long ago”

“You’re right.  I’m sure they’re both knackered from all the excitement, and Donna’s parents probably are as well. We’ll wait and ring them all right after lunch.  This way I’ll have plenty of time to choose my outfit, and we can have a leisurely breakfast and walk in Hyde Park if this blasted rain ever does stop.”

Timothy kissed his wife firmly on the lips.  “God, how I love it when you say those words.  I find it to be quite the aphrodisiac.  Now, being we have so much free time, I’d greatly appreciate it if you’d give me a hand here.”  He waggled his eyebrows at her.

“You naughty man,” giggled Wanda, playfully slapping his arm.  “You haven’t even had your coffee yet.”

"Coffee be damned, I'd much rather drink you in, my Love."

 

**********************************************************

 

“Oh, such happy news this is!  Our Donna is betrothed to Benedict Cumberbatch!” exclaimed Colin Saint James, as he viewed the photos on Neil’s mobile with a huge grin. “They look so besotted with each other!”

“Well, I would hope so, Pa!” laughed Toni.  “Newly-engaged couples should look smitten with each other!”

“Don’t they just,” sighed Colin happily. “And to think we’re going to be in-laws with Wanda Ventham!”

“I’ve done nothing but think about this,” muttered Neil.  “How on earth did this happen?”

“I would think that Ben decided…”

“I know, Pa.  I know,” Neil laughed, while raising a hand.  “I was just musing is all.”

“Happy musing, I trust,” said Toni, looking pointedly at her husband. “Our baby is going to marry the man of her dreams, and we are both going to make the best of it, aren't we?”

“What constitutes a daughter’s dream can be a father’s nightmare,” scoffed Neil. “For the life of me, I still don’t see what Donna sees in Cumberbatch.  Now, Danny Manganero, I could have partially understood.  He’s got good looks, he’s charming with personality to spare, he’s a very talented musician and singer…”

“And just look at him now – Vice President of Live Entertainment at Walt Disney World. Danny did well for himself,” finished Toni.  “And we get along so well with his parents still. I'll have to make sure to invite them to the wedding.”

“I remember Donna saying Danny may have been almost ten years her senior; but he acted very immature during the time they were together,” retorted Colin.  “He was totes flakey, if you ask me.  How many times did he stand her up when he was supposed to come around to pick her up for a date?  Many!”

“Danny’s not like that anymore!” retorted Toni.  “He’s straightened himself out!”

“Well done him then,” quipped Colin.  “I just remember the heartache he caused my granddaughter.”

Neil yawned and stretched.  “Roy Takahashi, I could definitely understand Donna being smitten with.  He was the most intelligent of the lot, handsome, a lawyer…”

“Who would have made the perfect son-in-law and junior partner,” finished Toni.  “Not to mention his parents own the finest Japanese restaurant in Manhattan.  I adore his parents.  That reminds me to call his mother about that cruise to Bermuda we’ve been talking about taking in February.”

“According to Donna, Roy was incredibly boring and a workaholic,” cut in Colin.  “He used to talk down to her as if she were subservient.  Who needs a man like that?  You’re better off being alone.”

_And Roy was also a lousy lay, from what I overheard Donna confide in Carly one night when they were whispering in the stairwell leading down to my flat._   _They always assumed I had gone to bed because they couldn't hear the telly, but they were wrong. I was always just sitting in my lounge, reading a book when they would creep down into the stairwell to have their midnight confessions._

“Cumberbatch shows signs of having workaholic tendencies as well,” retorted Neil. “I’m surprised Donna hasn’t picked up on that, but they do say love is often blind.”

“Benedict has many fine qualities, Neil.  We’ve been over this a hundred times,” Toni reminded him.  “He’s also very intelligent, well-read, charming, has a quirky sense of humor…”

“I’m glad _you_ said it was quirky.”

“… he’s responsible, kind and generous to a fault.”

“He’s respectful towards Donna and treats her as an equal,” added Colin. “They have a lot of things in common as well.”

“If this meeting of the Benedict Cumberbatch Fan Club is now over, it’s’ my turn to list his numerous faults!” said Neil.

“There’s no need to,” said Toni.  “Pa and I are also well aware of what they are.  We’re not saying Benedict is perfect; but he’s not the worst man Donna has ever brought home to us.  The bottom line is that he’s a good, decent man in spite of his faults.  I think he'll make a very good husband and father.”

“I noticed you haven’t used handsome to describe his looks, Dear.”

Toni remained silent as she set up the coffee maker to automatically brew in the morning.

_My husband knows damn well that I don't consider Benedict a prize in the looks department. Hopefully, the Mangano and Saint James genes will prove to be the dominant ones when they have children._

Neil snapped his fingers. “That’s right! You’re the one who keeps saying he’s so homely,” he snickered.

“Okay! Shoot me! I think he is,” sighed Toni heavily. “I think it’s that long face and those light, preternatural-looking eyes of his that are set too-wide apart. I've never been a fan of redheads either...speaking of which, his hair almost always looks a fright - like he forgot comb it!"

"That's just the result of a bad haircut and no sense on how to style it," said Neil with a wave of his hand. "That can be easily remedied."

"Speaking of which, he can't dress to save his life either!" continued Toni, warming to the topic.

"That's funny...when we met him for lunch, you actually complimented his hair and said he was dressed decently for a change."

"I do like his hair longer, and he was dressed appropriately."

"Except for the sneakers."

"Except for the sneakers."

"You informed me that was the style, Darling Dear."

"It is," admitted Toni grudgingly. 

"Don't couples hire wedding stylists to make sure they look their best on their wedding day?" inquired Colin.  "I recall one flitting around here on Kenny's wedding day."

"Yes, and that's a brilliant idea, Pa! Cumberbatch would definitely benefit from hiring a stylist for the wedding," agreed Neil.  "These people can work wonders with makeup and air-brushing, Toni."

"Of all the men Donna has brought home, Benedict is dead last when it comes to looks,” sighed Toni.

“Such a pity that he doesn’t favour his mum more in the looks department,” quipped Colin.  “His Pa seems to have had the dominant genes.  However, Ben does have Wanda’s beautiful blue eyes and zest for life.”

“Remember what I said, Darling Dear. You could wind up with grandchildren who look exactly like him,” tittered Neil.  “Imagine that.”

“I don’t think I want to," snarled Toni.  "Oh, and that lisp has to go!  An actor with a lisp!  Donna really needs to push him to see a speech therapist about it.”

“Let’s stop fussing about Ben’s looks and lisp,” said Colin.  “It’s not kind nor should it matter a toss to us. You know deep down inside that you’ll love your future grandchildren regardless of who they look like, Toni.”

“You’re right, Pa.  Of course I would love any grandchildren they give me, regardless of which of them they look like. That was mean of me to say.”

“I only pick up on the lisp when he’s knackered. He doesn’t do it all the time,” continued Colin.

“You’re right again, Pa," conceded Toni. "I was looking for things to pick on, and I shouldn’t.”

“Donna’s picked him to spend the rest of her life with, and you two need to make peace with it.  Ben’s a good man – and I’ve heard you both grudgingly admit it many times; so stop being so fucking snarky and count your blessings:  he’s not into drugs, doesn't abuse alcohol or womanize and makes a respectable living at his chosen profession. He’s completely besotted with Donna and will do right by her.  I don’t fancy hearing another word against him from either of you!”

Neil and Toni both raised their hands in mock surrender.

“You would be great in the court room, Pa,” smiled Toni. 

“Amen, Pa.  I’ll do my best to curb the snark,” said Neil.

“Donna could have done worse,” said Toni.

“She could be engaged to Jonathan Central…like the park,” added Neil with a smirk.

“Now, that one was a strange duck!” tittered Colin.  “You both may feel free to take the piss when it comes to him!”

“By the way, he changed it to Jonathan Gramercy, also like the park,” giggled Toni.

“Well, neither of those lame stage names is helping him to garner any roles of merit,” snickered Neil. “How did you find out about the name change?”

“I met a client for lunch at Junior’s in Times Square, and Jonathan was our waiter. It appears acting jobs are few and far in between."

"What a shocker!" exclaimed Neil, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"That doesn't surprise me in the slightest," laughed Colin.  "I'd love to introduce him to Ben one day so he could see what a talented, working actor is like."

"He assured me that he's only working there in order to make Broadway contacts.”

“Of course he is.  I’m glad to hear he finally took my advice,” said Neil. "I hated when he used to sashay in here like he owned the place and eat all our food.”

“Donna was always giving him money for his rent or subway fare – it was always something," added Colin. 

“Until I found out and took care of him,” declared Neil.  “I’ve never come across a more untalented jerk in my life.”

“You made him cry,” said Toni.

“The cocksucker deserved it,” sneered Colin.  “He acted as if life owed him a free ride.  He was one of those men who are allergic to hard work.  Donna would have been supporting him for the rest of her life.”

_And he was lousy in bed as well,_ thought Colin. _I don’t think Carly and Donna ever realized that I could hear them talking in my stairwell._

“Pa! I’ve never heard you say such a thing!” exclaimed Toni.

“Jonathan was a user of the worst kind, and lets leave it at that,” said Neil with finality. “I hope never to come across him again in this lifetime.  How about we change the subject to something more pleasant, okay?”

“Let's talk about the wedding then! Do you think Donna and Ben will set a date soon?” asked Colin.

“Absolutely!” replied Toni. “Benedict is in a big hurry to marry Donna.”

“I say Cumberbatch will push for a spring or summer wedding,” declared Neil.  “He won’t want to wait longer than that.”

“Crap!" cried Toni in frustration. "That only gives us five or six months at the most to plan!  I’d better call the Grand Floridian Wedding Pavilion first thing tomorrow morning to see which dates they still have open.  God, I hope to hell they aren’t booked.  Donna’s always had her heart set on a Disney World wedding. We can’t disappoint her, Neil!  I suppose if worse comes to worst, we could hold the ceremony at the Yacht Club Wedding Gazebo.”

“There’s that quaint little garden and gazebo in the back of the UK pavilion in Epcot,” chimed in Colin, warming to the topic. “The rotunda in the American pavilion would be a grand spot as well.  I’ve seen it set up for parties.”

“They keep Ariel’s at the Beach Club open for receptions; but it may be too small,” said Toni. "We could hold the rehearsal dinner there instead. The ballroom at the Grand Floridian was perfect for Carly’s wedding; but I’m not so sure Donna would care to have her reception in the same venue.  I’m thinking that every bride wants her special day to reflect her individual tastes.”

“Oh, most definitely!” agreed Colin with mounting enthusiasm.  “Which resort do you think they’ll choose for honeymoon?  I’ve always fancied the Polynesian myself; but that’s where Carly and Steve stayed.  Donna fancies the one with the animals that you can watch from the room’s balcony.”

“That’s the Animal Kingdom Lodge, Pa.  That’s Donna’s favorite Disney resort, so I’m sure that’s where she’ll want to stay. Neil, how about if we treat them to the Presidential Suite at the lodge for their wedding night? What do you think, Dear?”

“For that kind of money, we can all stay there with them,” snorted Neil.  “I’ve seen the online photos.”

“So have I!  Isn’t it gorgeous?” said Toni.

“Isn’t it just,” agreed Colin. “There are two bedrooms and a queen sleeper sofa.”

“They don’t need that kind of room!” interjected Neil.  "A regular king bed room should suffice!"

“I’d love to stay there in that suite just once,” said Toni.

“I’d fancy having a stay in there as well,” agreed Colin.

“That suite is really meant for dignitaries and celebrities – none of which Cumberbatch qualifies for as far as I know!” snapped Neil.

“Are you going to give them Disney Vacation Club points for their wedding gift?” inquired Colin.

“Well, we gave Kenny and Carly points for their wedding gifts; so we’ll do the same for Donna. That’s a good question, Pa.  I haven’t even given any thought as to which resort we should buy their points at,” mused Toni.  “I have a feeling Benedict will prefer the Animal Kingdom lodge once he’s seen it.”

“I’d vote for one of the Boardwalk area resorts,” said Colin.  “You can walk to Epcot and the two nightclubs are there – Jelly Rolls and Atlantic Dance.  There are lots of good restaurants between all the resorts.”

“Don’t forget about the ESPN club.  Donna loves going there to watch sporting events,” added Toni.

“When they have smalls, they may find it more convenient to be at one of the monorail resorts,” said Colin.  “The Contemporary has those lovely Magic Kingdom views!”

Toni smiled fondly at her father-in-law.  "I remember tucking the kids into bed at night whenever we stayed in the tower, and they would watch the fireworks from bed.  Those were good times.  It might make sense to buy them points for a monorail resort, but Donna does love the Animal Kingdom Lodge. What do you think, Neil? Which do you think should be their home resort?”

“At the risk of raining on both your parades, I’m going with none of the above. Have you both forgotten that there’s another person in the mix to consider besides what Donna wants?  Like the groom to be? I think it’s none of our business,” declared Neil.  “You saw how Cumberbatch bristled yesterday at lunch when he disagreed with us.  He’s the type who will want to run the show, you can bank on that. Besides, what makes you assume that he’ll be on board with a Disney destination wedding and honeymoon?”

“Nonsense!  Benedict is so head-over-heels in love with Donna that he'll go along with whatever she wants,” insisted Toni.  “He would never, in a million years, deny Donna her Disney dream wedding and honeymoon.”

“Hahaha!  That’s what you think!” Neil cackled, slapping his thigh.  “Would either of you care to make a little wager?  How about fifty bucks...”

“How could he say no to our lovely Donna?” piped up Colin, clearly horrified at his son's words.  “Ben would do anything to please her – look at all he did to make his proposal extra special. You can’t deny that he’s totes over the moon for her.”

“No, I can’t deny that, Pa.  It’s an accepted fact that he’s in love with Donna and will do almost anything to make her happy.  However, when it comes to letting her take the lead regarding their wedding plans, I have serious doubts he’ll go along without having any say in the matter.  I’m sure Cumberbatch has his own ideas as to what his wedding and honeymoon should be like; and I guarantee you that it won’t be a Disney World extravaganza.”

“That’s ridiculous.  How could anyone not embrace the idea of a Disney wedding? And as for Donna taking the reins, Benedict knows nothing about all the hard work that goes into planning a Disney wedding and honeymoon, so it would only make sense that she should take the lead.  I also feel very strongly that the bride should have the final say in everything, and I’m talking about from where the wedding will be held to what flavor ice is served at the intermezzo,” said Toni.

“I really fancied that raspberry wine ice we had for Carly’s intermezzo,” commented Colin. “I hope Donna chooses that one as well.”

_Jesus!  These two are really going overboard here.  Disney Wedding Fever has taken hold of my wife and father,_ thought Neil. _I need to bring them back to earth._

“I repeat:  that’s what you think,” said Neil.  “Cumberbatch isn't going to sit back and let Donna make all the plans without having any input; and if you believe that he will, there’s a lovely bridge for sale…”

“I find it hard to believe that Ben would be so stubborn,” insisted Colin. "He seems like such a reasonable chap."

“Believe it, Pa.  He’s not shy about speaking up when he disagrees with you. Toni and I saw for ourselves that Cumberbatch knows how to push back when it’s a matter of importance to him.  And when that happens, those posh manners of his fly right out the window.”

Toni dropped into a chair and huffed.  “Neil’s right about that, Pa.  Benedict can be very adamant when it comes to getting what he wants.”

“That’s the toff in him coming out, I suppose.  Tim’s family is posh and they have money, so people like that are used to getting their own way.  Sometimes they think they can get away with ill-manners when it suits their purpose,” said Colin. “Wanda, bless her, is not like that at all.”

"Oh, I don't know about that," began Toni.  "Donna's told me stories about her meddling into Benedict's love life, which is how that scheme of hers was born."

“Jesus, Pa!  You barely know the woman!" cried Neil.

Colin looked flabbergasted.  "Why I've read every print interview she's ever done!  I've seen her on the telly.  For Christ's sake, I've been a guest in her home and have taken tea with her! I know everything there is to know, and I can tell you that Wanda comes from good working-class stock.  She's a credit to her folks, who spent they extra money on sending her to a proper finishing school and art school.  She's a right lady if ever I met one and soooo down-to-earth in spite of her fame!" he said indignantly.

_And that comes from the self-proclaimed President of the Wanda Ventham Fan Club, Gramercy Park Chapter,_ thought Neil with amusement. _Pa's wrong though.  The woman is a busy-body if ever I saw one._

"Well, I can totally see Saint Wanda sticking her nose into the wedding plans, Pa," declared Neil.  "Timothy won’t want any scenes, so he’ll stay out of it.”

“They’d both better stay out of it!” cried Toni, angrily. 

“Toni Dearest, may I remind you that we – you and I – made our wedding plans together.  So, I…”

“Both sets of our parents helped us with the planning.  Pa, you were an enormous help in finding that special mesquite wood; and Ma was there when I went gown shopping and baked the groom's cake, may she rest in peace.”

“Please let me finish, Antonia!” growled Neil. “The point I’m trying to make is that you and I discussed everything from the color scheme to our honeymoon destination.  I had a say in what food was served and what music was played.  Seriously, don’t you think Cumberbatch deserves the same courtesy from Donna?”

“When the day comes that Benedict can exhibit that he's developed some taste - other than in his mouth - he's welcome to have a say,” declared Toni.  “Otherwise, he needs to keep his mouth shut.  Hmm...that reminds me...I thought he had braces; but one of his teeth is a tiny bit crooked.  I wonder if it can be straightened in time for the wedding?"

"His teeth look fine to me," said Colin.  "But then I don't look at him all that closely like you do, daughter-in-law."

"With Donna's luck, he’ll probably insist on wearing a white tuxedo,”  sighed Toni.

“With a matching top hat,” guffawed Neil. "That will be too small for his head, like all the other hats I've seen him in."

“And I'm sure he'll be wearing owl wedding socks!” added Toni. “Let’s not forget his penchant for weird socks.”

“I can just see him now,” chortled Neil. 

Toni abruptly ceased laughing.  “Unfortunately, so can I. “Donna will be mortified. Crap. If he won't go with a stylist, Donna's going to need to pick out his tuxedo and dress him. We can’t have Benedict showing up at the wedding looking like a horse’s ass in front of our family and friends.”

“A thought just came to me, Toni,” began Colin. “I recall that Donna always said she wanted her wedding in the castle when she was a small.”

“Cinderella’s Castle!” exclaimed Toni.  “Of course!  Thank you for remembering, Pa! Donna’s loved that castle ever since the first time we took her and Carly up there for the Princess breakfast.  It’s the perfect place for a reception.”

“Hmmm…it may not be such a brilliant idea after all, Toni; as I recall it being on the small side,” said Colin. “There’s not a lot of room for dancing.”

“Good point,” agreed Toni.  “It would be a great place to have brunch the next morning though.  I should call Danny Manganero and ask him if they rent it out for wedding brunches. We could hold the reception in the California Grill.  We could time it to end as Wishes and the fireworks begin."

"Does that mean there won't be an Illuminations Dessert Party?" asked Colin, clearly disappointed.

Neil looked from his wife to his father and back again.  _My father is every bit as carried away as my wife is with this.  I never dreamed he would get so caught up in wedding planning of all things!_

"I suppose we could do it after the rehearsal dinner. It's just a short walk from Ariel's to Epcot.  We'll have the party on that little island that's part of the France pavilion.  How does that sound, Neil?”

“It sounds like you are setting the stage for a guaranteed confrontation with Cumberbatch the next time you see him.”

Toni threw up her hands in disgust.  “Where’s your enthusiasm, Neil Saint James?  You were so gun-ho when we were planning Carly and Steve’s wedding!  You were at all the tastings and even helped Carly pick out the flowers when I got that awful stomach virus and had to stay in the room for three days.”

“That’s right, and I was thrilled to help out because Steve is a Disneyphile as much as we are.  He was also so busy interviewing at medical schools that he was relieved to have us assist Carly with all the planning.”

“Steve was very easy to please and approved of all of our choices,” said Toni.  “He gave us no problems.”

“Cumberbatch is different, Toni.  He’s not going to be content to sit on the sidelines and let us help Donna with the planning or let her do it alone. He’s going to be in the thick of it. Mark my words. You’re deluding yourself if you think any differently.”

“We’re footing the bill,” Toni stated simply.  “Technically, we get the final say; as it’s our money.”

“And you would be wrong,” snapped Neil.  “If you go in with that attitude, I can guarantee that Cumberbatch will dig in his heels and tell you to go fuck yourself.”

“Hmm…Neil might be right about that,” said Colin with a slight frown.  “You can’t expect everyone to leap through hoops just because you’re paying the bill.  It’s a gift to your daughter and future son-in-law after all.”

Toni sighed with annoyance.  “You two are ganging up on me.  You’ve switched sides, Pa.”

“I’ve come to realize that everything Neil’s been saying is on point. I think you should simply make an offer to help them with the planning,” suggested Colin.  “Planning a wedding can be overwhelming for a young couple.  I’m also sure Wanda will have some simply genius suggestions and ideas.”

“Crap! That’s exactly what I’m afraid of!” cried Toni. “His parents butting in with their two cents and trying to take over.”

“Look, I think Timothy will do his best to keep Wanda in check; but just in case they do start meddling, it's imperative that we stay out of it. Silence will be golden in this case,” said Neil. “We keep quiet and let them make all the unsolicited suggestions they want. That will make us look good in Cumberbatches eyes and Donna’s as well.”

“I think I see what you mean.  By saying nothing, we’ll be the good guys...the in-laws who don’t meddle; therefore, if they want advice, they’ll come to us,” said Toni. "Hmmm...that might just work."

“That’s the idea, Dear Heart,” smiled Neil.  “We be patient and bide our time for as long as it takes for Donna to wear Cumberbatch down.  Once he sees how overwhelming wedding planning actually is, he’ll gladly relinquish the planning to Donna.  In turn it will only be a matter of time before Donna comes to us for advice or she may even enlist Carly to help her.  Besides, in case you forgot, Cumberbatch will be up to his neck filming a TV show and doing a play next year – how much free time do you think he’s going to have to invest in this?  You were there when he rattled off his schedule. He won’t be able to drop everything and fly out to Orlando for tastings and the other things that actually require the bride and groom to be present for.  Hell, he won’t even have that much time to help make choices on the internet.”

“Make up your mind. You said he’s going to be in the middle of everything,” Toni reminded him. “You’re talking out of two sides of your mouth, Neil.”

“That’s right.  Cumberbatch will want to be involved in everything at first; but he’ll soon change his tune once he sees what’s involved in planning a wedding and honeymoon – Disney or otherwise.”

“On further reflection, I’m beginning to think you’re right that Ben may not fancy a Disney wedding,” said Colin sadly. “And Donna may not be able to talk him around.”

Neil nodded.  “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you two all along.  I wasn’t saying it to be cruel, I’m trying to warn you not to get your hopes set on Donna's having a Disney wedding.  I realize how much you both enjoyed being in on the plans when Carly and Kenny got married – and for the record, I was delighted to be included in the plans as well. However, what you both seem to forget is that Steve and Scarlett are both very into Disney – they shared their partners’ enthusiasm, so there were no problems.  This scenario is completely different.  There is that distinct possibility that Donna and Cumberbatch will wind up somewhere else, and we might be left out of the planning altogether.  You need to prepare yourselves in case that should happen.”

Colin nodded.  “It does make sense not to get our hopes up only to have them dashed.  We best leave it up to Donna and her beau then, don’t you agree, Toni?”

“So, that’s it?  We do nothing?” demanded Toni, clearly frustrated. “We’re not going to at least offer to help them or do anything?  We're just going to shut up and let the chips fall where they may?”

“That's right.  We do nothing."

Toni pulled a face and rolled her eyes.  "I can't believe this is happening. This is our daughter's wedding!  I know deep down inside that all your arguments are perfectly valid ones, Neil; but standing by and not doing _anything_ is a bitter pill for me to swallow.  I hate that you're forcing me into a vow of silence!"

"I’m not forcing you to do anything, Toni.  You do what you think best, and I’m going to do what I do best in this case.”

Toni raised an eyebrow at him.  “And that is?”

“I’m going to write the check to whatever fucking wedding venue they choose with a big smile,” declared Neil Saint James.  “I intend to be the good one for once; and on that sober note, I’m going to bed.”

 

  

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I decided early on that the wedding planning would become a bone of contention between Wanda and Toni, with their respective mates trying to be the voices of reason. Will they take their husbands' advice? 
> 
> 2\. The wedding planning will also cause major conflict between Donna and Benedict as the story unfolds and they come to realize that they might not want the same things. It was never my intent for it to go smoothly in the first place.
> 
> 3\. I feel that the real life Benedict would be very involved in his wedding. I haven't a clue if he was or not in his actual one; but he will be in this universe.
> 
> 4\. Again, this story line was plotted way before the real BC met his wife and married, so there is no shade intended when some of the characters express their opinions on certain issues as the story moves along. There were some coincidences that I found eerie. LOL! 
> 
> 5\. I've always wanted to eat at Bouley's Restaurant, but haven't yet. The bread and cheese carts intrigue me. 
> 
> 6\. Next week Benedict and Donna will be back. They were supposed to be in this chapter, but it got way too long so I decided to cut it in half.


	129. Chapter 129

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Benedict and Donna return home from their epic engagement dinner. Steve and Carly deal with tipsy ‘intruders’. Toni has an idea.
> 
> Note: I’ll be using ************** to indicate things happening at the same time.

 

 

Benedict Cumberbatch and Donna Saint James sat on opposite sides in the backseat of a yellow cab as the driver carefully maneuvered the vehicle down East 65th Street in the steadily falling snow.  The couple had enjoyed a flaming s’mores martini while waiting thirty minutes for a cab to arrive in the inclement weather.  Jacques and Georges held two over-sized golf umbrellas over Benedict and Donna as they escorted them to the cab and helped them get settled inside.  Jacques handed Benedict two white paper shopping bags with a bright wide yellow stripe on the side with Restaurant Daniel printed in maroon down the stripe.

“The smaller bag contains your champagne flutes and ring box and the other one contains some treats from Chef for you to enjoy,” Georges explained, while shutting his umbrella.  “Safe travels and all of us at Restaurant Daniel wish you a joy-filled life together!”

“Thank you,” said Benedict and Donna in unison.

“We hope you’ll come back and dine with us again in the Skybox!” added Jacques, holding his umbrella over his and Georges heads to shield them from the snow. “Perhaps you’ll join us for your first wedding anniversary.  Lots of couples do that.”

_They do if they have the money to pay for it,_ thought Benedict with amusement.  _Not this drippy actor._

“Please keep in mind that we do cater weddings as well,” continued Jacques. “Daniel does a magnificent job if I do say so myself!  You'll find there’s a special occasion brochure tucked inside the large bag to read over in your spare time.  I hope you were satisfied with your experience.”

_And this is where they will get a waffling Benedict response.  They will wish they came outside in their coats, hats and gloves **,**_ thought Donna with amusement.

“My plans were executed flawlessly and your improvisational skills proved to be impeccable,” remarked Benedict.  “Every last detail exceeded my high expectations from the quality and presentation of the food and drinks all the way down to the service, which was impeccable.”

The two men smiled and nodded happily.  “We're pleased to hear this,” commented Jacques.  “We will be sure to tell Chef once we’re back inside.”

Donna noticed that Georges was stomping his feet in an effort to keep warm, and Jacques had pulled his suit jacket closer around him.

_Benedict already spoke with Daniel at length when he came into the Skybox to chat and wish us well.  They’re teeth are chattering. The poor things must be freezing out there while my honey's going on and on,_ thought Donna.  _It’s not like this is a balmy summer evening.  
_

“The setting was so unique,” continued Benedict. “I don’t think I’ve ever set eyes on a more immaculate kitchen.  My fiancée  - oh, this is the first time I’ve gotten to refer to her as that – doesn’t it sound lovely, Darling?" He gave her the lopsided smile and crinkled his nose at her.

Donna nodded.  "Yes, now that you mention it."

"Anyway, she’s a restaurant critic in London.”

_I wonder if Benedict realizes the cabbie is starting to get impatient.  He’s lucky the meter isn’t running yet._

Jacques nodded.  “Yes, you told me that the first time we met to discuss your vision.”  He rubbed his hands together in an attempt to warm them.

“The ring presentation was smashing, wasn’t it, Donna?”

“Yes, and it’s starting to get …”

“Every member of the staff we encountered was utterly lovely and made us feel very relaxed and at home, didn’t they, Donna?”

_And here’s my chance to end this so these poor men can go back inside before they get frostbite._

“Absolutely!  As my fiance just said..."

"Oh, God, how I love being called that!" Exclaimed Benedict.  "I'm a fiance now. Imagine that!"

Donna smiled at Benedict and patted his cheek lovingly.  "It sounds right, doesn't it?"  She noticed that Jacques and Georges had taken a step back from the cab.

_They look like they want to bolt.  Let me try and wrap this up quickly._

"As I was saying, this dinner was an unforgettable experience."

"It was an incredible epic meal that we'll both long remember with great fondness," added Benedict.

"We don’t want to keep you out in the cold any longer; so thank you very much for all that you’ve done.  We’ll always remember our visit to Daniel,” smiled Donna.

“Oh!  I’m so, so sorry for holding you up whilst I was prattling on like a dolt," apologized Benedict. "The last think I want is for either of you to catch a chill.”

“Good night!” said Jacques and Georges as they scurried back into the warmth of the restaurant. 

“Cheers!” called out Benedict.

“Good night!” called out Donna.  She gave the cabbie her address and he slowly pulled away from the curb out onto the empty, snow-covered street.

Donna rested her head on Benedict’s shoulder and sighed happily.  “The end of a perfect day.”

“You can’t sit next to me for the ride back,” said Benedict.  “It’s too icy out there, and I’d feel better if you’d do up your seat belt.”

“Okay,” Donna groused, as she scooted over and fastened the seat belt and shoulder harness. “We’re not in any way saying that you’re bad driver, sir,” she added quickly to the cabbie.  “It’s just safer for all concerned.”

“I’m happier when my passengers wear their seat belts, especially in weather like this,” said the cabbie.

“I appreciate you’re being able to pick us up,” Benedict said to the cabbie.  “We didn’t fancy a walk in the snow without the proper footwear at this late hour.”

“You’re my last fare tonight. It’s getting too dangerous to be out driving, let alone walking.”

“Walking in this was out of the question,” agreed Benedict.  “I could feel it getting slippery under my feet.”

“The snow looks so pretty though, doesn’t it?” Donna asked.  “Like a winter wonderland!”

“Nice to look at, a bear to drive in, Miss,” quipped the cabbie. 

“So true, whilst it looks so very lovely coming down, I certainly don’t fancy having to drive in it,” concurred Benedict.  “Whenever I do, I get white knuckles from gripping the steering wheel too tightly.”

 “I didn't realize how much I missed seeing the snow last winter until now,” remarked Donna, gazing out the window.

“Where are you from?” asked the cabbie.  “Out West?”

“No,” replied Donna.  “We live in London.”

_Hmmm...how very interesting.  Donna said she lives in London, not New York._

“Where we don’t get a whole hell of a lot of it,” added Benedict.  “If we do, it melts quickly.”

“They’re forecasting up to a foot by morning,” said the cabbie.  “But everything will be back to normal by afternoon. The city’s snow removal system is pretty efficient.”

The cabbie stopped for a light at the intersection of Park Avenue.  The streets were deserted.

Donna stifled a yawned.  “Good gravy, I could go to sleep here.  It’s a good thing we didn’t have to wait too long in the bar.  The cab came pretty fast.”

“That’s because you took a short kip whilst I emailed the photos to our immediate families.”

“I don’t remember walking from the bar to the exit.”

“That’s because you didn’t.  I carried you. You woke up in my arms when the cold air hit you and insisted on walking the rest of the way.”

“Shit.  My head feels woozy, and I didn’t finish any of my drinks.  I keep finding the most mundane things hysterically funny though,” she giggled.

“It’s your alcohol-induced sweet spot, Darling,” laughed Benedict.  “I’ve been experiencing fits of giggles myself as the night wore on.”

“I also think we’re on an emotional high from getting engaged.”

“Oh, I know I am; and I don’t want to come down from it ever,” said Benedict. “It’s such a lovely feeling yes?”

Donna nodded.  “It sure is, Ben Honey.”

Benedict studied the snow as the cabbie slowed for a pedestrian, who decided to cross the street mid-block.

“Didn’t you say your parents have a holiday house in Vermont?” Benedict asked Donna.  “If the roads are clear, we could rent a car tomorrow afternoon and go snowboarding.”

“Yes, they have one in Killington,” Donna replied through a yawn. “Unfortunately, Vermont is not that close.  It’s a good, solid six hour drive in good weather.  New England is getting the storm, too.  It’ll move north; so we’d be following it so to speak.”

Benedict caught himself yawning as well. “Is there anywhere closer we could drive to?  We could book a hotel and stay overnight.”

“There are some places in Northern New Jersey and Pennsylvania; but we’ve got plans for Sunday night, don’t we?”

“Erm…yeah…as a matter of fact we do! We’ve got perfectly lovely plans, Steve and I do. We’re going out to dinner with your family; so you and Carly can celebrate your birthday together.”

“You realize that my parents will probably have an engagement cake for us on Thanksgiving after dinner.”

“Jolly good then.  I fucking adore cake as you bloody well know.”

“Hmmm…I was just thinking, Ben.  Maybe if the snow doesn’t melt we could go snowboarding Monday and come back Tuesday.”

“Brilliant!  I’ll look into leasing a car tomorrow then.  How are the daily rates here?”

“There’s no need.  I have a car.  It’s in the garage.”

“There’s supposed to be more snow Sunday night.  An Alberta clipper is supposed to be coming through,” interrupted the cabbie.

“Shit,” muttered Benedict under his breath as the cab slowly rolled to a stop in front of Donna’s brownstone on East 65th Street.  “Perhaps a snow ball fight in Central Park then?”

“That sounds about right,” giggled Donna. “Gosh, I feel so groggy.”

“As do I, but I have a feeling this bracing wind will help with that,” Benedict mused as he searched for his wallet and finally retrieved it from his front trousers pocket.

Benedict paid the cabbie, hefted the shopping bags and helped Donna from the cab.  The powdery snow swirled around them as they gingerly set foot in it. Donna gauged it to be four inches deep.

“Motherfucker, that’s cold!” grumbled Benedict, feeling the snow seep into the tops of his shoes.  “There’s nothing quite like some frigid snow to help sober me up right quick!”

“Crap!  My Jimmy Choo shoes are going to get ruined!” complained Donna woefully. “I got them at T.J. Maxx but still.”  She took a few steps and almost slipped.  “Whoa!  There’s a layer of ice under this pretty snow!”

_I love how she’s worried about the motherfucking shoes, rather than falling on her bum.  It’s all about the priorities, and the bloody shoes appear to be a priority, bless her.  
_

Benedict took her by the elbow.  “Are you alright?”

“Yeah.  I’m feeling a little light-headed.  I guess we shouldn’t have had that last drink, even though it was dee-licious!  I think that put me over my limit.”

“You were over your limit before we had that drink," smirked Benedict. "Shall we soldier on then?” He indicated the brownstone with his chin.

“OH!  My feet are so damn cold!” Donna suddenly stopped and pointed slightly to their right.  “Yea!  Look!  Steve shoveled a path for us over here to the front steps!  See it!  The wind blew most of the snow back over it; but I can still make it out.”

Benedict’s eyes followed the direction she was pointing in and saw the now snow-covered pathway.  “Shit.  I wish you had seen that first, so we could have asked the driver to reverse a bit.”

Donna clung to him as they carefully made their way across the now-icy sidewalk to the stairs.  “Everything looks so freaking hazy and dreamlike,” she observed. “I’m having trouble walking straight.  It must be the wind.”

“It’s the liquor,” snorted Benedict. “I’m feeling it a bit as well.  Perhaps it’s not the best idea to hang onto me then.  If one of us takes a tumble, they’ll pull the other one down.  I know there’s literally a doctor in the house; but I doubt Steve will fancy having to set broken bones at this hour.”

“Good point.  Just hold on tight to the railing when we go up the steps.”

Donna smiled as she noticed that the steps leading up to the brownstone’s front door had been recently swept, so scarcely any snow had accumulated on them. She quickly began to mount them.

“I see Steve’s been out cleaning the steps once already. Bless his little heart.”

“I’d still mind the steps, Darling,” Benedict cautioned her.  He took three steps forward and suddenly felt his feet give out from underneath him and landed on his backside. “Whoa!!!”

Donna stopped and turned around to see her fiancé sitting in the snow. “What are you doing? Are you okay?”

Benedict nodded.  “I slipped and fell on my bum.  I’m fine.  The snow cushioned my fall.”

“What were you saying before you decided to sit down and take a rest?” teased Donna as she got out her keys. “Eeeeek!” she shrieked as a snow ball hit her in the bottom, followed by another one to her back. "Hey!  Stop that!"

“That’ll teach you to stop being such a cheeky twat! I'm chuffed to see that my snow ball-making skills haven't suffered any."

"I can't wait to show you mine. You're going to be sorry."

"I accept your challenge then! Anyway, what I was saying before I went down was that it’s a right bit slippery,” said Benedict, getting to his feet and brushing the snow off the back of his overcoat.  _Thank God our glasses are packed in foam, so they should be in one piece still._

“I can see that. Be careful once you get to the steps. Steve, put down some ice melt, but it’s refreezing.”

Benedict gathered up the two shopping bags and gingerly followed her up the stairs to the front stoop. “I’ll help him clear away the snow tomorrow.”

“There’s no need.  The Block Association hires a company that comes and clears the sidewalks and driveways.  We just have to shovel the steps and put down ice melt,” Donna explained as she unlocked the front door and pushed it open. "Can you get the light switch?  It's on the wall to the right as you come in.  I'm going to need some light to see the alarm pad."

Benedict followed her inside and felt along the wall until he found the light switch.  He flipped it, filling the foyer with a soft, golden light.  He closed and locked the door behind him as Donna quickly pulled off her gloves in order to turn off the burglar alarm.  "Ah, the heat feels wonderful!" he exclaimed, relishing the warmth from the overhead air ducts.

“Carly always sets the alarm before they turn in for the night.  I’ve got ninety seconds to turn it off, and then I can reset it.”

 

******************************************************

 

Dr. Steven Cipriano had dozed off while watching his recording of the New York Rangers playing against the Pittsburgh Penguins when the sound of the burglar alarm blaring coupled with the sound of raised voices in the foyer jarred him awake.

_What in the hell?_

Steve bolted up right in his chair and leaped to his feet, heart hammering in his chest. He swiftly made his way on tiptoe to the door leading to the foyer so he could make out the source of the voices coming from behind the door.

“Shhhhhhhhhh!  For fucks sake, Donna!  Stop  being so shouty! You’re going to wake them!” Came Benedict’s deep baritone.  “Can’t you shut that bloody thing off any faster?”

“If you’ll stop groping me, I can shut it off in a minute!” Came Donna’s slightly slurred reply.

“That wasn’t groping by any definition!  I was helping you off with your coat is all.  You were bitching that you were wet for fucks sake!”

_Jesus Christ!  The lovebirds are finally home and bickering already!_

Steve put his eye to the peephole in the door.  Donna was frantically pushing buttons on the alarm pad, while a bleary-eyed Benedict stood in the middle of the foyer holding their coats along with two shopping bags, obviously looking around for a place to put them.

“I’m having trouble making out the numbers on the pad,” said Donna.  “Can you switch on the overhead light?”

“You already asked me to do that when we first came in. Look up – the fixture _is_ on.  Otherwise we’d both be stood here in the darkness.”

“I know that, _Ben Honey_!” she snapped impatiently.  “I’m talking about the two the lamps on the console table!  Hurry!”

“Where shall I put our coats?” he asked, switching on the lamps. “Isn’t there a wardrobe for the coats in this bloody foyer?”

“No. Mine is upstairs in my foyer, and Carly has one in hers.”

“Must I stand here like a twat and hold everything until you sort out how to silence your alarm system?”

“You're an actor, Benedict! Improvise, for fucks sake!  Stop being so damn fixated on whether or not I’ve got a coat closet in this foyer or not!  There’s a motherfucking bench across from the table!  Just look behind you! Now, please be quiet while I shut this son of a bitching thing off!”

“What’s going on?” whispered Carly, coming up behind her husband.

“I thought you were sleeping.”

“The alarm woke me.  Should I call the police?” she asked worriedly. “Did someone break in?”

“No on both accounts. What you can do is call the alarm company and tell them it was a false alarm.  Your sister has arrived home and is trying to shut the alarm off to no avail,” said Steve with his eye glued to the peep hole.  “Behold the results of Donna’s having too much to drink!”

Carly covered her ears. “I don’t need to behold the results.  I can hear them. That damn thing is hurting my ears!” she exclaimed, heading for the land line.  “How about if you intervene before the neighbors start calling?”

 

*******************************************************

 

“What sort of house doesn’t have a motherfucking coat wardrobe in the entry?” wondered Benedict, twirling around in the center of the foyer.

“Yours for starters."

“True, true, true,” he giggled.  “Oh, crumpets!  I suppose I could just lay everything on these steps then.  Where do they lead?  Up to your flat would be my guess.”

“Yes, they go up to my place.  Now please shut up!  Crap!  I can’t get it to turn off!” cried Donna in frustration, trying to shrug off her coat.  “I wonder if they changed the code on me?  Do you think you could help me get this freaking wet coat off!  I can’t concentrate!”

Benedict walked over on unsteady feet over to her and dropped his coat and the bags on the floor.  He peered over her shoulder, while squinting at the keypad.  “What code are you punching in?” he asked, hands on hips.

“The same one I always use!  Our birthday:  11201979.”

“Erm…since when is your birthday in December?  You’re hitting the two:  12201979.  I realize my vision might be a trifle off from the booze; but I do know a two when I see it.”

“I am not hitting a two!  Your vision is way off! Watch! One, one, two, zero, one, nine, seven, nine.  See!  Nothing!  Arrrggghhh!!!”

_I could swear she keeps missing the second one and hitting the two instead._

“That doesn’t make any sense.  You _have_ to be pressing a wrong number,” insisted Benedict. “Step aside and let me have a go at it.”

Donna grudgingly moved over, and Benedict stood trying to focus on the numbers on the keypad.

“These numbers are so fucking small.  I can barely see them!”

Donna hiccuped, as she attempted to get her coat off.  “Damn!  My arm is stuck!”

“I’ll help you with your bloody coat in a minute.  Just let me get this motherfucking alarm shut off.”

“I don’t get it.  Why would they change the code without telling me?”

“They didn’t,” Benedict replied impatiently, as he punched in the code. “Your coordination is off from the liquor…okay this should do it.” 

The alarm began to blare.

“Bollocks! It’s not working!” he shouted in frustration. “Christ, that’s loud!”

Donna nudged him with her hip. “I told you they changed it!  Move over and let me try again.”

“You’re hovering over me is making me nervous, _Sweetheart_.  Shouldn’t you call the police whilst I try and shut this damn thing off?” asked Benedict, as he frantically punched in the code two more times.

_That was the snotty version of Sweetheart, and we just got engaged.  Jeez.  
_

The alarm continued to blare.

“Motherfucker!” he cried. “It’s not working for me either!”

“Move over, Benedict, before we wake the entire neighborhood and the police come!  The alarm company is supposed to automatically notify the police when this happens!”

“Shhhhhhhhhh!  For fucks sake, Donna!  Stop being so shouty! You’re going to wake them!” Came Benedict’s deep baritone, as he attempted to pull off her coat.  “Can’t you shut that bloody thing off any faster?”

“If you’ll stop groping me, I can shut it off in a minute!” Came Donna’s slightly slurred reply.

“That wasn’t groping by any definition!  I was helping you off with your coat is all.  You were bitching that you were wet for fucks sake!”

“I’m having trouble making out the numbers on the pad,” said Donna.  “Can you switch on the overhead light?”

“You already asked me to do that when we first came in. Look up – the fixture _is_ on.  Otherwise we’d both be stood here in the darkness.”

“I know that, _Ben Honey_!” she snapped impatiently.  “I’m talking about the two the lamps on the console table!  Hurry!”

Benedict picked up the coats and bags. “Where shall I put our coats?” he asked, switching on the lamps. “Isn’t there a wardrobe for the coats in this bloody foyer?”

“No. Mine is upstairs in my foyer, and Carly has one in hers.”

“Must I stand here like a twat and hold everything until you sort out how to silence your alarm system?”

“You're an actor, Benedict! Improvise, for fucks sake!  Stop being so damn fixated on whether or not I’ve got a coat closet in this foyer or not!  There’s a motherfucking bench across from the table!  Just look behind you! Now, please be quiet while I shut this son of a bitching thing off!” 

Benedict giggled as he whirled around.  “Silly me! I’m such a tit! You’re right.  There _is_ a bench – I never noticed it!  I’ll lay our things on here.”

“Just drop it and come over here and help me with this damn alarm! Please!”

The door to Carly’s apartment abruptly swung open and Steve stepped out into the hallway dressed in his pajamas and slippers.  He regarded them with a less-than-amused expression.

“It’s too late, we’re already up,” he said, pushing past the newly-engaged couple.  “Let me handle this.”

“Someone needs to ring the alarm company, and tell them not to send over the police,” suggested Benedict.

“Carly’s on the phone with them now,” replied Steve. “You two must be punching in the wrong numbers.”

“No, we didn’t!” Donna said with indignation. “Why did you change the code?”

“I didn’t.  It’s the same code as it’s always been – your birthday: eleven, twenty, nineteen seventy-nine,” recited Steve as he deftly punched in the numbers, thus silencing the alarm.  “See, it works just fine.”

“I don’t get it then,” said Donna. “We both kept getting it wrong.”

“You’ve both had too much to drink, so I’d say that your coordination isn’t what it should be.”

Benedict shoved the coats off the bench onto the floor and sat down heavily. “That’s what I told her. I know I’m feeling pleasantly tipsy, so you can imagine how she’s feeling.”

“My coordination isn’t off,” insisted Donna, burping loudly.  “Oh my gosh, Steve! Excuse me.  He made me drink so much water tonight, I’m water-logged,” she said in an accusatory tone.

Benedict gave her a cheeky smile.  “You’ll thank me in the morning when you don’t have a ghastly hangover.”

Donna plopped down on the bench beside Benedict and smiled seductively at him.  “I really do need a good, hard fuck, Ben Honey,” she whispered.

“Then we need to go upstairs, Darling,” said Benedict quietly, getting to his feet and taking Donna by the arm in order to pull her to her feet.

_Shit.  Steve heard what I said to Benedict.  I can tell by his expression.  He’s looks so uncomfortable._  

_So this is what my sister-in-law is like after one too many. I thought Ben was kidding me about Donna making advances when she was drunk that time.  I hope I don’t burst out laughing._

“I shouldn’t have said fuck in front of you, Steve.  It sounds so crude," said Donna. "Shag is a much nicer-sounding word.  It sounds so much nicer than saying fuck, don’t you think?”

Steve looked amused. “Either word will do. Well, I think it's time for us to call it a night.”

Donna snuggled close to Benedict and leered up at him, arms about his waist. “I think I need to be on top…because…you may wind up squishing all that water out of me,” she whispered loudly.  “He isn’t as light as he looks,” she said as an aside to Steven, who took two steps towards the door leading to his apartment.

“Ummm…I doubt that would happen in reality,” snickered Benedict.  He paused to yawn loudly. “Christ, I’m beyond knackered. What do you think, Doctor?”

“I think the chances are slim that you’re both going to last long enough to test this interesting and entertaining theory.”

“Oh, yes, we will,” giggled Donna in what she thought was a low voice that only Benedict could hear.  “Why I can feel you getting a hard-on already!”  She reached around to squeeze Benedict’s backside as she pressed against him.  “You are so damned sexy, Ben Honey!”

_No more wine flights and drinks for Donna. It’s got to be one or the other. I love that she's coming on to me; but not in front of her brother-in-law._

Benedict’s face reddened and he rubbed the back of his neck.  “Erm…I’m not…getting a boner,” he said in a low voice to Steven.  “She’s feeling my mobile through my trousers. I always keep it in my front pocket.”

“Liar!” chortled Donna.  “I know your cellphone when I feel it, Benedict.  I know dick when I feel it, too…I mean penis.  Yep.  That’s a penis alright.  Look!”

“I trust your judgement,” laughed Steven, moving closer to his doorway.  “I don’t need proof.  It sounds like the accumulated effects of all those drinks are kicking in now.”

“Hey! It sounds like I’m missing out on all the fun here – would someone care to fill me in?” demanded Carly as she entered the foyer, holding a foil-wrapped packet.

“Nothing,” said Benedict and Steven together.

“I was just copping a good feel,” giggled Donna, squeezing Benedict’s bottom again.  “Just look at his butt, Carly, and tell me how sexy it is.”  She began to lift up his suit jacket and felt Benedict’s hand urgently swat hers away.

“Stop that _now_ , Donna!”  Benedict growled, batting her hand away and primly adjusting his jacket.

Donna jutted out her lower lip at him and pouted.  “But I just wanted Carly to see your adorable…” 

“ _Please_ stop, Darling.  I think we should go upstairs now.”

Steven was no longer able to hold back his laughter. “I’ve never seen Donna like this. I don’t mean to laugh, but holy shit!”

Carly barked out a laugh. “Neither have I!  Oh, Donna, this is just too, too funny! She really can’t hold her liquor, can she?” she said to the two men.

“Apparently, not,” replied Steven. “Donna is a textbook example of how alcohol lowers one’s inhibitions.”

“Yeah, I think she’s definitely had a bit more to drink than she can handle,” mused Benedict.  “She was pacing herself just fine until those last glasses of champagne and the cordial. Then the barkeep treated us to a dessert martini whilst waiting for the cab to come. The buzz is starting to ramp up I’ve noticed… I’m certainly feeling no pain right now.”

“You’ll both definitely be feeling it in the morning,” observed Steven with a wiry grin. 

“Anyway…we seem to have gotten a little side-tracked here.  Welcome home and congratulations on your engagement, you two!”  said Carly, moving to embrace them.

“Yes, congratulations!” echoed Steve, also hugging the couple.  “You’ll have to forgive me, if I don’t grope your ass, Ben,” he jokingly whispered into Benedict’s ear.  “As tempting as it is.”

“Bugger off!” hissed Benedict. 

“Look at my ring, Carly, isn’t it beautiful?” gushed Donna.  “Ben designed the setting himself!  I’ve got such a talented guy here!  He can do anything!”

Carly held Donna’s hand and inspected the ring.  “It sure is, Donna.  It’s stunning!”  She smiled up at Benedict and hugged her sister again. 

“Ben…ben…a…!  This is weird…I could say your name just fine before. Why do you have to have such a long name, Honey?  Thank God mine isn’t that long!  I really need to ask your parents why they picked such a long name.”

“My parents considered me a blessing, and Benedict means blessing.”

“And you’re my blessing as well – person with the long name.”

Benedict smiled at Donna.  “I think we need to get you, person with the short name, to bed.”

Donna pulled him close to her so she could whisper into his ear.  “Short name…long stamina!  I’ll show you!  My panties are freaking soaked!”

“Oh, fuck me,” muttered Benedict, rolling his eyes. 

“You need to wait until we get upstairs!” guffawed Donna, patting his bottom.  “Have some self-control, Ben Honey!”

“You weren’t kidding about Donna making amourous advances when she’s drunk,” mused Steven.

“And loud,” added Carly.  “She gets very, very loud - I’ve noticed.”

“I think she’s rather cute and flirty when she’s like this,” said Benedict with a sly grin.  “I can especially appreciate it when we’re alone, but when we’re out in public, not so much.  Anyway, you’re both family and adults, so I hope you can understand and forgive her loose tongue.”

“God, how I love your tongue!” moaned Donna, flicking hers out at him and pulling him down by his neck again for a heated kiss as she slipped her tongue between his cupid's bow lips.

"Mmm...mmmm...Stop," Benedict broke the kiss as he felt his mobile vibrate indicating he had a message.

“OH, I love the feel of your huge, pulsing dick…oooooooo!”

“Bloody hell! It’s not my cock!  It's my mobile vibrating, for fucks sake!” snapped Benedict, face reddening.  “I have a message.”

“Sure it is,” snickered Donna, with an evil wink. “I love it when you’re sassy like that, Ben!”

“Donna!  I think it’s time for bed!” said Benedict.

“Oh, is it ever!” declared Donna, sitting back down on the bench.  "Ooops! I think I just lost my balance."

Benedict scratched his head in sudden bewilderment.  “Christ, I just realized something…have I been slurring my words?” he asked Steve and Carly. “I know I’ve been lisping up a storm, but I’m not sounding too clear to myself.”

“Maybe a little…not as much as my sister is though,” laughed Carly.  “Oh, to be a fly on the wall when she wakes up tomorrow morning!”

Steve leaned against the door jamb with his arms folded.  “Yeah, you’ve been slurring as well, Ben.  The effects of those extra drinks are hitting you, too.  It looks and sounds to me like you both could use some help getting upstairs.”

“Oh, no, no, no!  Not at all,” protested Benedict, with a wave of his hand, as he fell backwards onto the bench.  “I’m just feeling tipsy is all…a good deal of my high comes from being so damn fucking happy…I feel like I’m walking on air…and by the way, the bloody floorboards are a bit slanted in here…you really need to get them fixed, Steve.”

“The floor boards are fine, Ben,” Steve stepped forward and took Benedict gently by the arm.  “Let us get you guys to the elevator and safely upstairs, okay?”

“That’s what I’ve been saying,” yawned Donna, resting her head against Benedict’s arm. “I’m so sleepy, I could bunk here.”

“No, you need to go upstairs and sleep in your own bed,” said Carly.  “Now, let’s gather up your things.”

“No, no, no…I’ve got them,” said Benedict, getting unsteadily to his feet and sitting back down again.  “I could swear that table wasn’t this far away when I was last here.  Did one of you move it?”

Carly stifled a giggle of her own.  “Oh, no.  These two are just fine and in perfect control of their faculties.  Good Lord!”  she said to her husband.

“Babe, could you please escort your sister to the elevator?”

“Absolutely,” said Carly, picking up Donna’s coat from the floor.  She crossed the floor to the console table. “So, when did you two have time to go shopping?” she inquired, indicating the two shopping bags.

“Oh, yeah, I almost forgot!  Donna would have my head if I had left these behind…” said Benedict.

“I’m going to have your head regardless, Sir,” giggled Donna, as Carly helped her to her feet. "He loves when I give him head, Carly.  Did he ever tell you that?”

“No, I’m happy to say, he hasn’t,” replied Carly, guiding a wobbly Donna towards the elevator, as Steve grabbed Benedict's coat and the shopping bags. “So, what’s in the bags?”

“Our champagne floats…flutes…glasses…whatever you want to call them,” said Donna, letting out a loud burp. “Excuse me.  Damn that water!”

“I bought them yesterday to commemorate our engagement,” clarified Benedict.  “The thought is for us to also use them on our wedding day to toast our marriage and then at every anniversary thereafter.”

“Isn’t that one of the most romantic ideas ever?” exclaimed Donna, beaming at Benedict.  “He planned the most perfect day ever.”

“Ben told us all about it over dinner last night,” replied Carly.  “It seems your special day came off without a hitch.”

Benedict and Donna exchanged glances and began to titter.

“Erm…things were going rather smoothly until dinner.  You forget Donna was with me!”

“We had a little accident with a very long table cloth,” added Donna.

“ _She_ had a mishap with the table cloth.”

“You’ll have to tell us all about it tomorrow,” said Carly.   

“Um…there are some treats inside the other bag that we intend to share with you both,” continued Benedict, as Steve opened the door to the lift. “Oh, here’s the wardrobe, Donna!  You said there wasn’t one down here.”

“It’s the door to the elevator,” clarified Steve.

“Oh, yes,” giggled Benedict.  “It’s the secret door to the lift.  I was already in here this morning. What am I thinking?  Have I mentioned that there’s also a lovely magnum of Brut champagne to wash it all down with.  I have it on good authority that Brut is bloody excellent champagne.  My best friend, Adam Ackland, says so.”

“Oh, yes!  Wasn’t that nice of them?" exclaimed Donna. "Wait until you hear what’s in the bag:  They gave us a box of madeleines, canelés, petit fours and truffles in a heart-shaped chocolate box to take home!” said Donna,getting into the elevator.  “We were so stuffed from dessert that we couldn’t take another bite.”

“Wow!  That was nice of them to send you home with all that stuff,” Steven said to Benedict.  “I guess that was their way of thanking you for your business.”

“For what it cost me they bloody well should have kissed my arse as well,” Benedict whispered to Steven.  “It was the most ridiculously, amazing, epic meal I’ve ever had in a restaurant.  Everything was utterly perfect down to the last detail.”

Carly pressed the up button. "You can add this to your stash of goodies.  It’s a piece of our birthday cake that Daddy got at Ferrara’s,” she said handing the foil-wrapped package to her sister.

Donna took the package and started to open it. “Ooooo…I love their cakes and pastries!”

“Why is this bloody wardrobe moving?” asked Benedict, leaning against the wall and closing his eyes.  “It’s making me feel ill.”

“It’s not,” laughed Steve. “It’s the elevator.”

“I’m really not feeling too well, all of a sudden,” moaned Benedict, taking a deep breath. “Where’s the loo? Is there a loo on this floor? I really think I'm going to be in dire need of a loo soon.”

“As soon as the elevator stops, there’s one right inside the apartment,” said Steve.  “Off the foyer.”

“The powder room is for guests,” clarified Donna.  “Ben's not a guest…he’s…my fiancé.  He can use my bathroom off the master bedroom.”

“No.  That’s too far for me to walk,” groaned Benedict.  “I don’t understand…I rarely feel sick when I drink.  I took all the proper precautions.”

“It happens,” said Steve with a shrug. 

“What kind of cake is it?” asked Donna.  "Do I smell chocolate?"

“Our favorite:  Chocolate cake, cannoli cream filling, whipped cream and the sides are coated in toasted almonds.  It was yummy.”

Benedict felt his stomach lurch as Carly described the cake with great enthusiasm.  _The last thing I want to hear about is fucking food!_

Steve looked alarmed as Benedict covered his mouth and dry-heaved.  _Shit!  He's going to toss his cookies in the elevator at two AM._

“Yummy is right!  I’ll put on the tea kettle as soon as we get upstairs,” said Donna, yawning.  “Maybe we can dance, too.  Ben loves to dance.  I'll put on some music. How does that sound to you, Curly Carly?”

"I'm going to bed, so I don't want to hear any music or dancing over my head," warned Carly, casting a stern look at Donna.  "If you want music, play it in your bedroom please."

“I’m really going to be…”  Benedict abruptly turned and squatted down as he vomited the contents of his stomach onto the floor of the elevator as it came to a stop. 

"We're here!" said Donna. "You can use the bathroom now, Ben!"

"It's too late," retorted Steve. "He doesn't seem to be in need of it any longer."

“Jesus!” said Carly.  “I had no idea he got motion sickness.”

“It’s called over indulging in food and drink. There will be no rest for the weary tonight,” sighed Steve, rubbing his temples in an attempt to ease the start of a headache.  “I’ll clean it up. You get them up the stairs to the bedroom."

“My eyes feel so heavy right now,” moaned Donna.  “Where did Ben go?  Jeez, I also need to call the cleaning service and complain.  I shouldn't have to clean this elevator after I just paid to have them freshen the place up!  It smells gross in here.”

“It has nothing to do with the cleaning service, Donna. Your fiancé just threw up,” said Carly as the door to the elevator slid open to reveal Donna’s foyer.

“Where is he?” asked Donna, walking out of the elevator as she held her nose.  “Benedict? Hello?  Are you hiding on me? Who feels like some music?  I’ll make us all some coffee…or maybe Ben should make it.  On second thought that’s not such a good idea. Don’t ever tell him I said this, but he makes the worst fucking coffee you’ve ever tasted!  I’ll put the kettle on and make us some tea.”

“That’s what you think, Sister,” laughed Carly Cipriano.  “The only thing you’re going to put on is your nightgown.”

 

******************************************************

 

Antonia Saint James stopped pacing the floor of her bedroom in order to check the bedside clock. _Jesus!  Where in the hell are they?  It’s almost two and no word from Carly yet._  

“How can you sleep when there’s a blizzard raging outside and your daughter’s not home yet?” she asked aloud.

“Very easily if you’d only let me,” came Neil’s groggy voice from their four-poster king-sized bed.  “And it’s only called a blizzard because of the winds.  The snow accumulation isn’t going to be all that much according to Sam Champion.”

“Sam’s been wrong before.”

“Not often.  His track record is pretty good.  So, if you’ll excuse me; I’ve got a sweet dream I’d like to get back to.”

“There’s been no word from Carly yet.”

“Cabs aren’t plentiful this time of night to begin with; and the storm isn’t helping, I’m sure.”

“Forgive me if I worry. It’s the mother in me.”

“I have every confidence the folks at Daniel are fully capable of getting them a cab.”

“It’s still late,” said Toni worriedly, as she resumed her pacing.

“You’re going to wear out the rug.  Please come to bed, Toni.”

The landline began to ring and Neil leaned over to pick up the receiver as Toni made a beeline to his side of the bed. 

“The caller ID says it’s Carly!  Answer it!”

“That’s what I’m attempting to do.  Hello Sweet Potato, did Donna make it home alright?” 

_“Hi Daddy!  Yeah, Donna’s home safe and sound, as well as Ben.”_

“Excellent!  Mom’s been worried sick about them…well, Donna anyway.  I don’t think either of us really cares what becomes of Cumberbatch.”

_“There’s nothing for her to be worried about. It took Steve and I time to get them upstairs and settled into bed.”_

Neil frowned. “Why the personal tuck in service?”

Carly laughed. _“We didn’t literally tuck them in! We wanted to make sure they got upstairs okay.”_

“You’re still not telling me why that required extra attention?”

_“Well, because your youngest daughter is wasted and your future son-in-law is also feeling a bit off his face, as he puts it.  Ben’s not as drunk as Donna is, though.  Steve says that’s because she weighs less, and her system can’t process the liquor as efficiently as Ben’s can because he weighs more.  It hits her harder.”_

“I didn’t need a doctor to tell me that,” scoffed Neil.

_“I made them some coffee while Steve was cleaning up the mess in the elevator, even though Steve swears coffee really doesn’t do anything to sober people up.”_

“He's right.  It doesn't. What mess?”

_“Ben threw up in the elevator just as we got to Donna’s floor.”_

“Charming,” snorted Neil. “Such fine public school boy manners Cumberbatch has.”

_“Oh, my God, you guys should have seen Donna!  Neither of you wouldn’t have believed it! Hahaha!  She was totally out of it and all over Ben. He was mortified.”_

“Somehow I highly doubt that,” quipped Neil.  “I bet he loved the…attention.”

“ _I should have recorded it for you guys on my cellphone.”_

“I’m glad you spared us that.”

_“You two would be doubled-up with laughter!”_  

“Somehow I doubt it.”

_“I know Steve and I had a hard time not to lose it in front of them!”_

“Neil, ask her if she gave Donna the cake?” interrupted Toni.

“Mom asks if you gave Donna her birthday cake.”

_“Yeah.  I put it in her refrigerator; but I think eating cake was the last thing on either of their minds,”_ she giggled. _“Anyway, I’m not trying to be rude, Daddy; but I’m exhausted.”_

“Okay.  Sleep well, Sweet Potato, and thanks for calling.”

_“You, too, Daddy. Tell Mom goodnight and sleep well.”_

“What did she say that made you frown?” asked Toni as Neil cradled the phone.

“That they got home okay, but apparently they had too much to drink.  They were both drunk, and it seems Donna was making an ass out of herself.”

“Alcohol lowers the inhibitions.”

“Thank you, Doctor Saint James. Cumberbatch also got sick and threw up in the elevator.  Steve was cleaning it up, and Carly was giving them coffee.”

“Steve says coffee never works, neither does a cold shower or a fatty meal.  Lots of water and sleep are what lessen hangover symptoms.”

“That Steve sure is a wealth of information.  He’s a credit to his medical school as Pa would say.  I could have told you all that, and I’m not a doctor.”

“Your dad would find the humor in this you realize.”

“Only too well.”

Toni climbed into bed beside him and hunkered down under the covers.

“As long as they’re both fine, I suppose.  We need to cut them some slack being tonight was a special night for them…the wine pairings and drinks were a lot for someone like Donna to handle.  She’s not used to drinking.  Benedict is.”

“Well, it seems like he was off his game tonight,” snickered Neil Saint James. He kissed his wife good night again and switched off his bedside lamp. “I knew Cumberbatch was going to turn out to be a bad influence on Donna; and this only proves it.”

“It’s the culture over there, Neil.  They drink more than we do.”

“Granted, but I’m not too keen on Donna picking up that little habit.”

“Give your daughter more credit than that, Neil.  Donna’s not going to make a habit of overindulging. She’s always drank in moderation, when there were many times that Carly didn't. Not to mention that we've both been guilty of overindulging ourselves at weddings and parties every now and then.”

Neil leaned over and switched on the bedroom lamp.  He opened the drawer to his nightstand, removed a small, lined pad and pen and hastily scribbled something on it.

“What on earth are you making notes on?”

“Well, we’ve got Cumberbatches’ parents coming in Monday morning, so I was just thinking I’d better restock the liquor cabinet.”

“We’ve got plenty of liquor, Neil.  All I need are a couple of bottles of a nice, white wine to go with the turkey.”

“Have you forgotten that his parents are fond of strong drinks? I sure as hell haven’t.”

“You’re right now that you mention it!  I’ve never tasted anything that strong in my life like those drinks Tim made us!” laughed Toni.  “I thought my throat and esophagus were burned!”

“And the three of them just downed those Pimms cups like they were water.”

“Hmmm…that’s probably a good idea.  We’ll have all the kids over for brunch on Sunday.  Then afterwards while the girls and I finalize the menu for Thanksgiving, you can take Kenny, Steve and Benedict along to the liquor store to help pick out the wine and then to Murray’s for some cheeses for my Thanksgiving cheese platter.  I've got that cute mouse cheese tray that Scarlett brought me back from the Williamsburg Pottery that I've been dying to use.”

“Since when do we serve a cheese course at Thanksgiving?”

“Since Donna’s English future in-laws will be dining with us.  Your father suggested it. We decided it would be nice to serve a cheese platter along with the fruit and nut course. Benedict seems to know his cheese, so I thought having him along would be useful.”

“It will be useful like a thorn in my side would be useful.”

“I thought we were going to make the best of it, Neil.”

“I am.”

“You could have fooled me.”

“I’d prefer to do the shopping alone, rather than having them all tagging along.  There will be too many opinions and will take three times as long as when I go by myself.”

“That’s what will make it fun – having all those different opinions! It will also give Benedict a chance to bond with Kenny and Steve.”

“He’s already bonded too much with Steve.”

“I’d like for him to get to know our son better.”

“Then let the three of them stay here and bond over a nice football game.  Cumberbatch is going to have to learn about American sports if he wants to fit in with us.”

“Think of it as a male-bonding field trip.”

Neil groaned and switched off the light.  “That will be the field trip to hell. The jerk knows nothing about wine.  I don’t see why we have to take him along. He'll only embarrass me.”

“Will it really be a field trip to hell though?  To the liquor store to let Benedict help you pick out a wine?”

“OH.  Yes. Now, I see where you’re going with this. Being Cumberbatch is about to be the newest member of the family, I should insist that he choose the wine. I did enjoy watching him squirm at the Ivy and Asiate.”

“Both times he looked like he was praying for a hole to open up in the floor so he could jump in.”

“Too bad one didn’t.”

“Benedict lucked out both times.  The free champagne saved him at the Ivy, and he saved himself at Asiate by ordering those non-alcoholic drinks. He’ll have no one to save him at the liquor store because Kenny and Steve will think you’re being nice by letting him choose.”

"I'm not nice."

"So you've told me, but you really are a nice guy under that brusque facade.  Your family and friends will attest to that in a court of law."

"My family and friends mean the world to me.  Cumberbatch qualifies as neither."

"You're wrong, Neil. Benedict qualifies as family now.  He's going to marry your daughter whether or not you like it."

"It's not official until they're married."

"That's bullshit, Neil; and you know it."

"I know nothing of the sort."

"I'm convinced that you and Benedict will one day have a civil relationship.  You both just have to learn to let go of the petty nonsense that you let get in the way of forging a friendship."

"That's going to be a long and winding road."

"In the interim just think of the fun you can have at the liquor store Sunday."

There was silence for several minutes as Neil pondered his wife's words.  Then he began to laugh.

"What's so funny?"

“Your idea to take Cumberbatch along to the liquor store.  That will be fun!” said Neil Saint James in the darkness. "Thank you for the suggestion, Darling Dear. I now have something to look forward to."

 

 

 

 

 

  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I couldn't resist bringing back an amourous, tipsy Donna since I had such a good time writing her like that in the Golden Fleece. 
> 
> 2\. I also wanted to try my hand at writing a tipsy Benedict, but that was a challenge. Why? I can't tell you. 
> 
> 3\. We rarely get snow storms in the New York Metro area in November. 
> 
> 4\. S'mores are a traditional campfire treat, often associated with the Girl Scouts in the US, consisting of a toasted marshmallow and chocolate bar squares sandwiched in between two graham crackers. The saying is they are so good, that you'll want "some more" - hence the nickname S'more.
> 
> 5\. An Alberta clipper is a fast-moving, low pressure center that comes down from Canada into the US and sometimes sweeps across to parts of the Northeast, bringing a sudden drop in temperature and sharp winds. Sometimes it is accompanied by a burst of snow. 
> 
> 6\. T.J. Maxx sells deeply discounted designer fashions among other things.
> 
> 7\. New York Rangers and Pittsburgh Penguins are American Hockey Teams.
> 
> 8\. It was very difficult trying to write the alarm scene, as I was attempting to squeeze a lot of action into a very brief time span. This was the best I could do to convey it.
> 
> 9\. The next chapter will be posted on Sunday, June 5th as next week is Memorial Day weekend; and my family will be taking a long weekend.


	130. Chapter 130

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The morning after Benedict and Donna's engagement. Benedict awakens with an unwelcome variety of aches and pains. Timothy and Wanda call about engagement party plans, causing the start of friction between the happy couple. 
> 
> Note: I’ll be using *********** to indicate things happening at the same time.

 

“In the presence of God, and before this congregation, Benedict and Donna have given their consent and made their marriage vows to each other.  They have declared their marriage by the joining of hands and by the giving and receiving of rings.  I, therefore, proclaim that they are husband and wife.  Those whom God has joined together let no one put asunder,” proclaimed Vicar Robinson. 

Benedict beamed at his bride.  _I’m finally married to the love of my life! I’m now somebody’s husband! I have a Mrs. Cumberbatch! I’m so over the moon!_   

“I love you, Mrs. Cumberbatch,” he whispered, leaning in to kiss Donna on the lips. 

“I love you, Mr. Cumberbatch,” she whispered back with a radiant smile, raising her chin slightly in order to meet his lips. 

A loud, rumbling sound distracted Benedict from his first wedded kiss.  There in the back of the church, was a table holding a beautiful five-tiered wedding cake.  A bulldozer had just entered the church and was heading for the cake table.  Benedict’s mouth dropped open to see that Neil Saint James was driving it, wearing a maniacal expression on his face. 

“What in the hell are you doing here, you right bastard?” sneered Benedict. “You weren’t invited!” 

“I don’t need an invitation to my daughter’s wedding! I’m welcome here by default.” 

“I beg to differ, you insolent prick!” 

Antonia Saint James stood at the cake table and held out a chain saw towards Benedict and Donna.  She turned it on, and a loud buzzing filled the church. 

Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!   Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!    Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz! 

“Come and cut the cake, Muffin!” 

“There will be no cake cutting if I can help it!” shouted Neil.  “Step aside, Toni!  I demand that this marriage be annulled immediately, Vicar.” 

“Over my dead body!” shouted Benedict, descending the steps leading down  from the altar and walking towards the older man with Donna in tow.  

“That can be arranged!” cackled Neil gleefully.  He stopped the bulldozer and called out to his wife. “Did you hear that, Toni?” 

Antonia turned and called out into the congregation.  “Angelo!  You’re services are needed.” 

“Noooooo!  Not Uncle Angelo! Please, don’t!” shrieked Donna, face tear-streaked.  “You can’t do this!"  

“Actually, we can do that.” 

"We just got married, Mom!  Benedict’s my husband now!”

_This is like a motherfucking nightmare!  I need to set these wankers right and get my wife the fuck out of here!_

Donna stood, clinging to Benedict for all she was worth.  “I won’t allow you and Mom to do any such thing!” she wailed. 

“Don’t be so upset, Muffin. I promise that you’ll forget all about the jerk by this time next week,” said Toni soothingly.  “Besides, there’s always Roy.” 

“Who just happens to be outside waiting and is a far better match for you than Cumberbatch ever was,” added Neil.  “Kenny, please ask Roy to join us.” 

“What about the cake?” demanded Antonia, wielding the chain saw.  “Let’s at least have some cake first.  This damn cake cost us a fortune!” 

“Can’t we just have Cumberbatches’ name covered in frosting and Roy’s added?” inquired Neil. 

“NOOOOOOOO!” shrieked Donna. 

“You right bastard!” thundered Benedict, approaching Neil Saint James with a menacing look on his face.  “I think we need to step outside and sort this out once and for all.” 

“Not until we cut the cake!” insisted Toni. 

Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!   Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!    Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!

Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!   Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!    Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!

_Is that wretched noise ever going to stop, for fucks sake???_

_Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!   Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!    Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!_

 

 

Benedict lay face down in the queen-sized bed in Donna’s bedroom as he was awakened by the cacophony of what sounded like heavy machinery outside.  He sighed softly as he willed himself to open his eyes, turning his aching head slowly towards the nightstand.  

_What a motherfucking nightmare that was!  I feel like utter shit.  I wish my head would stop pounding. I haven’t felt this hungover in an age. That’s what I get for polishing off that last martini and the rest of Donna’s._

As the nightstand swam into focus, Benedict could see a tall glass of water alongside a small flower-shaped red plate containing three aspirin, one of his acid reflux pills and five saltine crackers.  

_Ah! Just what I need!  Donna thinks of everything, bless her. I wonder how she’s feeling this morning.  I hope not as bad as I do.  Ugh!  
_

Benedict slowly propped himself up on one elbow and swallowed the pills, chased down with the room-temperature water.  He felt the acid churning in his now empty stomach and quickly ate the crackers. The noise from outside continued, making his head throb all the more.  

Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!   Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!    Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!

Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!   Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!    Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!

_Oy!  My head! This is bloody awful!_

Benedict groaned inwardly and carefully lowered himself onto his back. A thin ray of light fell across his face as his head made contact with the pillow, hitting him square in the eyes.  He shut his eyes tightly and grimaced. 

_For fucks sake!  This is why I detest blinds. You can never close them tightly enough!  Donna needs to get room-darkening shades installed in this room if I’m to be staying here on any sort of regular basis.  Maybe I can get her to take pity on me and shut them tighter.  
_

He reached out with the intent of gently shaking Donna awake, only to find the other half of the bed empty.  The sheets and her pillow felt cool to his touch. 

_Bollocks!  She’s either gotten herself up for the day or is in the loo puking.  I guess I’ll have to drag my arse out of bed and do it myself.  Question is:  do I really have the reserve to do it?  Yes.  I do.  I think.  Get up, Benedict, the sooner you adjust those fucking blinds, the sooner you can crawl back into this nice, warm bed and die._

Benedict’s eyes fluttered open and looked towards the source of the light, squinting.  Donna was standing by the window next to the fireplace, fingers parting two of the blind slats enabling her to see what was going on outside the brownstone.  She appeared to be freshly showered and dressed for the day in snug-fitting jeans, a maroon jumper and cow head slippers that he had never seen before.  Her chestnut hair was hanging loose around her shoulders and the engagement ring glittered on her left hand as the light caught it.  Benedict smiled as he watched her admiring it on her hand. 

_That ring does look so right on her hand.  It warms my heart that she can’t stop looking at it. I’m so chuffed that everything turned out as lovely as it did last night, and even though we were both pissed; we managed to make the sweetest love to each other until…_

Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!   Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!    Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!

Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!   Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!    Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz! 

“Bloody hell, Donna!  Where is that infernal noise coming from?” he managed to croak.  “All this incessant rumbling and buzzing is driving me bonkers!” 

Donna quickly turned towards him with a bright smile on her pretty face.  “Good Morning! How do you feel?” She removed her finger from in between the blind slats, plunging the room into semi-darkness. 

_Christ!  She’s forever the cheery one, bless her.  How can she be so damn chipper after last night?  I’m fucking miserable, and she’s acting just fine._

“Not as good as you do, apparently,” Benedict snorted.  “I think I’m going to die, I feel so miserable!” he moaned. 

“Oh, no you’re not!  You just have a hangover,” she said switching on the desk lamp and aiming the light away from the bed.

“I’m only too painfully aware of that.” 

“I think I’m going to lower the heat. It feels kind of stuffy in here, don’t you think?” 

“Please don’t! I’ve got nothing on under these covers.” 

“Do you want me to get your pajamas?” 

“Yes, but that would mean getting up in order to put them on; and I don’t think I have the patience or strength to do that right now. This room is at the optimum temperature, so please leave the thermostat as is.” 

“Does this mean you want me to close the window as well?” 

“You’ve got the bloody window open?” he asked in disbelief. 

“Just a crack.  I like fresh air when I sleep.  It’s good for  you.” 

Benedict openly grimaced. “I’ll take my chances in a stuffy, over-heated room.  Please close it.” 

_Benedict’s getting pissy with me.  I’ll close it and leave him in this hot box.  I can’t wait to go downstairs where it’s cooler!  Thank God for separate heating zones._

“As you like, Ben.  I don’t want you to be cold.” 

“Can you also turn on the fireplace?  It makes the room so cozy and warm.” 

_Holy cow!  I can’t believe he wants it warmer in here than it is now.  Thank goodness the fireplace is more for show than warmth._

Donna shut the window, turned on the gas fireplace and approached his side of the bed.  She sat as carefully as possible on the edge; however, the slight movement escalated the queasiness Benedict was feeling. 

“Please don’t move, Donna.  My stomach’s still not settled.” 

“I see you already took your tried and true hangover remedy,” she observed, spying the empty plate and water glass on the night stand.  “You’ll start feeling better soon.” 

“I didn’t know you kept aspirin here.” 

“I don’t.  I found a bottle in your shaving kit along with your acid reflux medicine. I thought you might need them both when you woke up. I know I sure as shit did!” 

“Could I trouble you for another glass of water?” 

“Of course!” Donna quickly fetched him a refill on the water from her en suite. 

She watched as Benedict gingerly pushed himself into a sitting position and drank down the water in one gulp.  He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and gave the empty glass back to her. 

“You have no idea how happy I was to see those pills and crackers,” he said. “Thank you for taking such brilliant care of me.” 

“A former Girl Scout is always prepared.” 

“You have certainly earned your hangover badge.” 

“They would never offer a badge like that in reality. Girl Scouts aren’t supposed to drink to excess or hangout with those who do.” 

“You hang out with me, and I’ve been known to imbibe more than my share of adult beverages on occasion.” 

“You don’t make a habit of it. Besides I’d never get rid of you because you’re such a fantastic lay, Mr. Cumberbatch - even when under the influence.” 

_I’m still impressed as fuck that I was able to get a boner that lasted long enough to satisfy her after drinking all that I did._

Benedict smiled smugly at her.  “I do love when you stroke my ego – amongst other things…tell me more,” he purred in his deep baritone. 

“Oh, my gosh!  Speaking of other things, how is your dick?” 

Benedict lifted the covers to inspect his member.  “The good news is my peen hasn’t fallen off, so I’d say you’re a right lucky woman.” 

“It’s nothing to joke about! Let me have a look.” 

Donna pulled back the covers, so she could see for herself.  She winced at the sight of the red scratch mark that ran along the shaft of his penis. 

“Oh, my gosh!  That looks awful!  I’m soooo, soooo sorry, Benedict.  Does it still hurt?” 

“Not anywhere near as much as my head.  It’s a bit sore when something brushes against it is all.” 

“It looks like the antiseptic ointment seeped in.  I think you should apply some more so you don’t get an infection.” 

“I’m sure your brilliant nursing skills ostracized any germs, and I’ll heal just fine.  However, if it makes you feel better, I’ll put on a dab after I shower.” 

“I should have listened to you when you asked me to take off my ring last night when we made love.  I promise never to wear it in bed again.” 

“My privates truly appreciate it; and if it makes you feel any better, I had no idea those petals would be so sharp.” 

_Neither did I.  My poor Honey._

Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!   Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!    Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!

Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!   Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!    Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!

“Hells bells!  Does that damn noise ever end!?  It’s been going on all fucking morning! There goes that rumbling again.  What is it?” 

“Umm…oh, that’s right.  I never answered your questions before.  That rumbling you just heard was the snow plow clearing the street again, and the buzzing you still hear are the snow blowers working on the sidewalks and driveways. If they’re not cleared within a certain amount of time, we risk getting a hefty fine from the city.” 

“The perils of the master suite being in the front of the flat, I suppose.” 

“This street is usually fairly quiet.  The sound-proofing in here is excellent all things considered.” 

_I don’t have the heart to tell him about the garbage trucks coming through at five-thirty in the morning.  He can find that out for himself._

“You haven’t wished me a proper good morning yet.” 

“I didn’t want to add to your headache.” 

“I’ll make an exception for one of your kisses,” Benedict held his arms out towards her.  “My breath must be horrific, so I promise not to slip you any tongue.” 

“If your breath is anything like mine was, you’d better not!”  giggled Donna.  “I couldn’t stand myself this morning.”  

“I wasn’t going to mention it, but being you put it out there - it was God awful.” 

Donna momentarily felt herself bristle and frowned at him.  “Excuse me?” 

“Last night you were mouth breathing in my face when I turned over, and it almost made me gag.” 

_Jeez Louise. How embarrassing is that?  His isn't so fresh and minty either this morning._

“I’m so sorry, Ben.” 

“You had no more control over that than I do when I do things I can’t control in my sleep.” 

_He means when he farts or mouth breathes in my face._

“You can make it up to me now.” 

“My pleasure.”  She carefully hugged and kissed him.  “Good morning, fiancé.” 

Benedict returned the kiss and hug.  “I do love the sound of that.” 

“Good morning or fiancé?” 

“Fiancé.  I’ve never been anyone’s fiancé before.” 

“Well, you better get used to hearing it; because that’s what you are now.  _My_ fiancé.” 

“And you’re mine.” 

Benedict grazed her cheek tenderly with his thumb as he gazed thoughtfully into her gold and green flecked hazel eyes.  

“I don’t understand how you can look so refreshed and gorgeous after last night.  Perhaps you’ll share your secret with me?”  

“Oh, there’s no secret!  Believe me, when I woke up, I felt as crappy as you do now.  After a few minutes, I managed to crawl out of bed and raided your shaving kit.  Thank God you thought to pack that aspirin.  I remembered to take three and drank a couple of glasses of water.  Then I came back to bed and waited for the pain to subside in my head.  As soon as I was feeling better, I took a long shower and brushed my teeth – those two things did wonders to rejuvenate me.” 

“I think I’ll have a lie in for a little while then and attempt the shower and brushing.  I'm forever grateful that you don't have that same awful cinnamon -flavoured toothpaste here that you have in London.  It makes me gag.”

"Is that why you brought your own?"

"Yes.  It's bloody awful."

"I thought you liked that one."

"Even though I'm a tart for sweets, that shit is far too sweet. I can't stomach it."

"I didn't think anything was too sweet for you!" giggled Donna.

"Well, that shit is."

“I’ll go downstairs and work on our brunch while you rest.”

“Please don’t bother, Darling. Food is the last thing on my mind right now.” 

“That’s only because sex is usually the first,” snorted Donna. 

“Stop being so cheeky. Sex is as far from my mind as food is right now.” 

Donna snickered.  “I’m sure that will also change as the day progresses, provided your dick has sufficiently recovered by then.” 

“How can you be so bloody cheerful so early in the day?” 

“It’s not early – it’s after eleven! Trust me, your stomach will be growling once you’re feeling better.” 

 

 

An hour later, Benedict descended the stairs and made his way into Donna’s kitchen.  He had showered and dressed in faded jeans and a heavy navy blue woolen jumper.  His feet were clad in turquoise and white polka dot socks and a pair of brown corduroy travel slippers.  The table had been laid for the two of them.  Donna was standing at the huge commercial, stainless steel stove, stirring something in a small copper saucepan. 

“You were right.  I feel significantly better since I cleaned myself up,” he declared making his way over to the stove.  “I hope you don’t mind that I skipped shaving.” 

Donna reached out with her free hand and caressed his cheek. “Not at all.  I think you look very sexy with your overnight stubble.” 

“Is that cheese sauce I smell?” 

“I can’t fool that nose,” quipped Donna. “Yep, cheddar cheese sauce to go on our Kentucky Hot Browns.”  

“What’s a Kentucky Hot Brown?” 

“It’s a classic open-faced, hot sandwich originally created at the Brown Hotel in Louisville, Kentucky,” explained Donna.  “The original was composed of sliced turkey on whiste toast, covered with Mornay sauce and a sprinkling of Parmesan cheese.  Then it goes under the broiler until bubbly. Pimento and bacon strips were then added to it."

"That's not Mornay sauce in the pot."

"Correct.  My version is composed of thick-slices of roasted turkey breast, covered with cheddar cheese sauce and topped with a light sprinkling of Parmesan.  Then I pop the sandwiches under the broiler until the cheese sauce bubbles and turns golden brown. Then I top it with thick-cut apple wood smoked bacon and slices of grilled tomato. I’m making Bobby Flay’s version of it, which means I’m layering it on slices of French toast rather than plain white bread.” 

“That sounds similar to Welsh rarebit, but with turkey and bacon. And who might Bobby Flay be?” 

“A celebrity chef.  He owns Mesa Grill and Bar Americain here in the city.  They happen to be two of my favorite restaurants, and I hope to take you to both while you’re here.” 

“Mind if I nick a slice of bacon?” he asked, eyeing the plate filled with crispy bacon and thin slices of already-grilled ripe tomatoes that sat on the counter. 

“Help yourself.  I always fry up some extra for quality control purposes.” 

Benedict selected a slice and bit off half, feeding the other half to Donna.  “I’d say this passes inspection...mmm…yummy as you would say.”  He looked around the kitchen for a spot to plug in his laptop.  “Where can I plug this in to recharge?” Benedict asked, indicating his laptop, which he had brought down with him.  

“There’s an outlet on the wall next to the table you can use.  This way you can check your emails while I get our brunch ready.” 

“Fancy some tea?” 

“Only if you make it,” Donna smiled at him.  “Unfortunately, I only have regular tea.  Had I known you were coming, I would have gotten something more to your liking.”  She checked the consistency of the sauce and saw that it was finally done. “Perfect!  Now, I can assemble the sandwiches, and we can eat!” 

Benedict set his laptop on the dining table and plugged it in using his US adapter.  He warmed some milk for their tea whilst he waited for it to boot up. 

“No worries, Sweetheart.  I went out and bought some proper tea yesterday whilst you were getting your toe nails painted with all those intricate little fairy cakes.” 

“They’re supposed to be birthday cupcakes.” 

“I know. The confetti gave them away.  No wonder it took the nail tech an age to do!” 

_Thus allowing me plenty of time to give Mum and Dad a proper virtual tour of these digs on my laptop.  Hahaha!_

“Boy, nothing gets past you,” Donna snickered.  “I happen to like my birthday cupcake toenails. They’re very festive.” 

Benedict went to Donna’s pantry and opened it, so she could view the contents.  “You now have loose leaf English Breakfast, Earl Grey and Lapsang Souchong – all with caffeine, I’m afraid. However, I did lay in a box of Twinnings English Breakfast sachets sans caffeine for you.  I think you will find those superior to Lipton's.”

“How about a pot of Tim’s brew?” 

“Brilliant choice. It won’t be nearly as good as my dad’s; but I’m perfectly capable of brewing a respectable pot,” replied Benedict, filling the cow tea kettle and setting it on the gas stove to heat. 

“Your version of Tim’s brew is more balanced.  It tastes like half and half of each to me.” 

“I’ll add more of the Earl Grey then. We have to get you an induction kettle.  They come to a boil so much faster than this bovine one does.” 

“But I like my cow kettle.  I don’t mind waiting an extra five minutes.” 

_Shut up, Benedict, and use the bloody cow.  She’s fond of it._   

Benedict returned to the table and signed into Skype.  None of his friends or family were signed in even though it was afternoon in London. 

“Bloody hell!  I’ve got over fifty emails with congratulations on our engagement!  It must be everyone I know.” 

“How did they find out so quickly?” 

“Last night I set up an email blast before we went to bed with the photos and sent it out.” 

_Benedict wasn’t too anxious to tell the world our happy news,_ thought Donna with amusement.  _He hasn’t stopped smiling since last night.  It’s nice seeing him so happy and content._

_Oh fuck me!  I just noticed that I neglected to add John and Karon to the list.  I'll send them off a quick email after brunch._

“You’ll be thrilled to hear that I do have demerara sugar in the house.” 

“I know.  I found it yesterday whilst making myself some _regular_ tea.” 

“Unfortunately, I don’t have any whole milk.  Just skim; but I guess you already know that.” 

“You do now.  I stashed it behind the orange juice.” 

Donna laughed.  “It sounds like you took a pretty complete inventory of my groceries yesterday.” 

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck.  “Yeah, I did.  I hope you don’t mind that I picked up a few things to store here.” 

“Not at all!  What did you get?  I didn’t notice anything in particular.” 

“Lemon curd, raspberry jam, whole milk, malt vinegar, salad cream, brown sauce, proper English mustard, piccalilli...” 

“Jeez, Ben! Aside from the milk it sounds like you went shopping in a British grocery.” 

“Tertius recommended one, so I popped in.  You must think I’m daft to crave things from home here – even though I’m only staying for ten days.” 

“No, I don’t think that at all. I can totally understand it.  I’m like that whenever I shop in that American grocery in Notting Hill even though my parents always mail me care packages whenever I want something.” 

Donna began layering the ingredients onto the sandwiches, as Benedict measured the tea into the strainer inside her cow teapot. 

“I swear I’ve seen these teapots at Borough Market.” 

“And you’d be correct.  This teapot comes from the Richard Bramble pottery stand in Borough Market. Carly brought it back to me last year when she first went over.  Then I found out all the items can be ordered online, so I ordered a couple of things.” 

_Like the plates, mugs, bowls, butter dish, tea towels, olive oil pourer, oven gloves, cutting board and tablemats.  All that does not constitute a couple,_ thought Benedict with amusement. 

“I can’t wait for a cup of Tim’s brew,” declared Donna, ladling the thick cheese sauce over the turkey.  She added a sprinkling of freshly grated Parmigiano reggiano cheese over the top to ensure even browning.  

The Skype chime on Benedict’s laptop began to sound, alerting him to an incoming call as he poured the boiling water into the teapot and set the timer to steep the leaves for five minutes. 

“I bet that’s London calling,” Donna said as she placed the sandwiches under the broiler to brown. 

“I’d say you’re probably right,” agreed Benedict as he crossed the room to his laptop.  “Speaking of Tim’s brew, it’s Tim himself calling.  Shall I answer it or wait until after we eat?” 

“The sandwiches will keep warm in the oven.  I’m sure Tim’s excited to talk to you.” 

“ _Us_ ,” corrected Benedict with emphasis.  “We’re officially an ‘us’ now.” 

“I thought we were officially an ‘us’ when we decided we wanted to be in a committed relationship.” 

Benedict rolled his eyes at her as he sat down and answered the call.   He smiled as Timothy’s face filled the screen.  “Hi, Dad!”

_“So, are congratulations still in order?”_ Timothy asked teasingly. _“Donna hasn’t changed her mind now between last night and this morning, has she?”_

“Of course not!”  Donna called out from across the kitchen. “Your son’s stuck with me forever whether he likes it or not!” 

_Unless he were to find out about the plan and boot me out of the house one day.  I wonder if Tim and Wanda are continually stressed over the possibility of their son finding out?_

Benedict turned his head and smiled dreamily in the direction her voice had come from before turning his attention back to his father. 

_“It’s good to see you’re still looking completely besotted,”_ snickered Timothy. 

“You’re being rather cheeky today, Dad,” observed Benedict dryly.  “Perhaps it’s because I _am_ very besotted with my beautiful fiancée. I have to keep pinching myself for reassurance that it’s all real and not just a lovely dream.” 

_“I’m glad to hear it, Son.”  
_

The cow timer mooed that the tea was done brewing. 

“I’ll get it, Ben.  Talk with your dad,” said Donna.  “I’ll join you in a minute.” 

_“Bloody hell! Did the egg timer just moo?”_ inquired Timothy, lowering his voice. 

Benedict nodded.  “That it did,” he confirmed in an equally low voice.  

_"The one you showed us yesterday morning didn't moo."_

“Ah, that's because this is a different one.  She has two timers. I told you – it’s like being in a bloody farmyard.  If we’re still chatting in fifteen minutes, you’ll get to hear the wall clock moo the hour again.” 

_“It could be worse. We could be in Gloucestershire and it would be just about wren o’clock,”_ chuckled Timothy. _“I never much fancied the wren’s song.”_

“At least Mum’s bird clock has variety!  All these damn things do is moo.” 

Donna approached the table with two mugs of hot tea, setting one before Benedict.  She then dragged over a chair so she could sit beside him.  

_“Congratulations, Donna!  Wanda and I couldn’t be more over the moon right now.”_

“Hi, future Father-in-Law!” Donna chirped. “So how does it look?” she giggled, proudly holding up her left hand so Timothy could see her engagement ring. 

Timothy smiled widely at her and nodded his approval.  _“It looks smashing!  I take it you fancy it then.”_

“Like it?  I LOVE it!  I’m so honored and proud to be wearing your mother’s diamond, Tim.  It means so much to me that you and Benedict have entrusted me with it.  I love the idea of keeping it in the family and promise to take good care of it always.”

_And barring any of Donna's famous accidents, it should; hopefully, remain intact,_ thought Benedict.  _Perhaps those petals weren't such a good idea.  I keep envisioning them cracking off after she gives it a good whack against something hard.  I was right to insure it._

_“I’m very happy that you’re pleased with the way the ring turned out.  I’m over the moon to hear that my mother’s diamond will continue to be handed down to future generations.  She would be touched to hear you say that, God rest her soul.”_

“All we need now is to have a son in order to perpetuate Gran’s wish,” said Benedict, side-eyeing Donna. “I can’t wait to be a father!  Just think how utterly lovely life will be when there are three of us! Oh, what I wouldn’t give to have a baby to love right now!” 

“All in good time, Ben Honey,” said Donna, patting his hand. “There’s no rush,” she emphasized.  

_Holy cow!  There he goes with the sales pitch to start trying to have a baby again.  He mentioned it last night in bed during that emotional moment he had during foreplay:  oh, wouldn’t it be lovely, Donna, if you were to become pregnant tonight?  No, Ben, it wouldn’t be.  Not yet.  We need to get married and be a couple first.  There’s plenty of time to have kids! Besides he’s the one with the bug up his ass that things have to be done in the correct order. In reality, he’d freak if I were to get pregnant unexpectedly before we were married._

“Well, I’ll be thirty-four next year and you’ll be thirty-one.  If we’re going to have more than one child, we’ll need to get cracking.” 

_“I thought you, of all people, would want to get married first,”_ quipped Timothy. _“Being you’re such a well-known stickler for tradition.”  
_

“Oh, I do Dad.  We need to do things in the proper order,” replied Benedict, looking a trifle guilty.  “You’re right.” 

_“Well, your mother and I chose a different route at first; and everything turned out just dandy in the end,”_ Chuckled Timothy.  _“Wanda was gun shy about remarrying,” he said to Donna.  “It took some convincing, but she gave in before Ben was born – as I’m sure he’s already told you.”_

Donna nodded.  “Yes, he did tell me the story. I see where Benedict gets his romantic streak from.” 

Timothy ears turned red as a blush slowly crept into his cheeks.  _"Yes, I suppose he does."_

Benedict rubbed his thigh as he looked at Donna. “I did tell you that you were marrying an old soul,” he laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. 

Timothy noticed that Donna still looked a bit uncomfortable. 

_Why does my son feel the need to always push his partner to start a family before they’re ready?  Donna’s expressed a desire to have children with him, so I don’t understand this urgency. It’s not like his biological clock is ticking or hers for that matter.  I can understand if she wants to wait a bit before trying to conceive.  For fucks sake, they’re not even engaged twenty-four hours; and he’s starting to push the family issue.  Let me change the subject._

_“I can’t tell you how happy Wanda and I are that you two are going to be married, Donna.”_

_I bet you both are.  Mission accomplished. The plan can now rest in peace, hopefully._

“Thank you, Tim!  Speaking of Wanda, where is she?” 

Timothy glanced behind him and sneered.  _“I believe she’s still in the boudoir changing into something more suitable to take a Skype call in.  She’s most likely giving her makeup and hair a touch up as well.”_

Benedict looked taken aback at his father’s words. “Since when does Mum have to do all that just to have a Skype chat with us?” 

_“Your mother’s become rather fond of dressing up for Skype calls as of late.  She says you never know who you’re going to see on the screen…Ooffff!”_

Benedict and Donna watched as a small decorative pillow shot across the screen, hitting Timothy in the side of his head before he had time to duck.  

“And that must be Mum, right on cue,” Benedict said to Donna under this breath.  “They do love their pillow fights, bless them.”

"I love how playful they are," whispered Donna.  "It keeps them young!  I hope we're still like that at their age."

_“As you can see, her aim has also improved significantly,”_ laughed Timothy, picking up the pillow and tossing it back in the direction it had come.  _“That was a brilliant catch, Pet!”_

_“Hello Dears!”_ said Wanda, coming into view.  _“How are you two lovebirds doing today?”  
_

Benedict studied his mother with curiosity.  She was wearing a robin’s egg blue silk blouse with a chiffon scarf in shades of aqua and blue draped around her neck.  Wanda’s makeup and hair were flawless, and Benedict also noted she was wearing quite a bit of jewelry, which he knew was not the norm for her.  

“What fresh hell is this, Mum? You _never_ get dressed up like that to take a Skype call,” Benedict barked out a laugh. “I don’t mean to laugh, because you do look lovely; but who are you trying to impress?”  

Donna sat quietly beside Benedict.  _Say nothing, Donna.  It’s not you because you’ve seen Wanda several times with her hair in a messy ponytail, devoid of makeup and dressed in old jeans and fluffy screaming pink slippers. You know damn well who she’s trying to impress, and they’re in Gramercy Park._

Wanda’s face reddened slightly. _“The plan is to ring up Donna’s parents once we’re done chatting with you.”  
_

_Just as I surmised,_ thought Donna. _There’s also the chance that Grandpa will be upstairs when they call, so Wanda will want to look her best for her biggest fan._

_We want to offer our congratulations,”_ clarified Timothy.

“I would think so because that’s the _proper_ thing to do yes?” Snickered Benedict.  “And he accuses _me_ of being steeped in tradition.  Now, you see which side of the family that comes from,” he said to Donna.  

“That’s very thoughtful of you both,” said Donna diplomatically.  “They should be home due to the snow and impending ice storm we’re expecting later on.” 

“She’s trying to impress your mum,” Benedict mumbled under his breath to Donna. 

“And my Grandpa.” 

“I almost forgot about her most loyal and devoted fan,” snorted Benedict. 

_“What were you just saying, Ben?”_ asked Wanda with a frown _.  “I had trouble making out everything you said to Donna.”_

“He said that you’re looking exceptionally young and pretty today!” said Donna.  “And in answer to your question, we’re wonderful! Yesterday was the happiest day of our lives. Your son gave me the most perfect birthday ever.” 

_“I’m so glad that everything went off without a hitch,”_ declared Wanda with a smile. _“We were so excited and anxious to hear from you. Even though we knew the outcome would be fine, one tends to worry until they hear for sure.”_

_“Allow me to translate:  She’s the one who worried and hoovered the lounge at three in the morning. I’m the one who went to sleep,”_ retorted Timothy with a wink. 

Benedict and Donna exchanged glances and started to giggle. 

“There was one tiny mishap with an extra-long table cloth,” said Donna. 

“And I didn’t exactly propose the way I had originally planned,” Laughed Benedict. 

_“Don’t ask what happened,”_ Timothy warned Wanda under his breath.  _“We’ll be late for our booking at the Wolesley.”_

_“Hush you!”_ hissed Wanda at Timothy. _“I want to know what happened!”_

“If now isn’t a good time, we can tell you tomorrow,” offered Donna. _  
_

_“Perish the thought! We want to hear every detail! It’s not every day that our son gets engaged to the love of his life,”_ Gushed Wanda. _“As you were then.”  
_

“Donna got a bit tangled in the tablecloth and wound up pulling the glassware down,” began Benedict.

“Some water and wine got on the tablecloth, but I got the stains out of it and my dress,” added Donna.  “I couldn’t believe how fast they came up and changed the table scape!” 

_My future daughter-in-law must have pulled one of those stain removal wipes out of that monstrous handbag, bless her,_ thought Timothy. _I wonder if Ben got billed for any broken glassware._

“Luckily, nothing was broken,” continued Benedict. “I did look like I wee’d myself though, and Donna looked like she was on her…” 

“Benedict’s proposal was adorable!” interjected Donna. “He caught me completely off guard.” 

Benedict blushed and smiled bashfully.  “I started to second guess my original proposal speech, and started having an anxiety attack; so I decided to improvise.” 

“Your dad keeps checking his watch,” whispered Donna, nudging Benedict’s foot with hers.  

“Do you two have somewhere that you need to be?” inquired Benedict, also noticing that his father was getting fidgety. “We can always catch up at another time.” 

_“To be honest, we’re meeting Geoff and Diana at the Wolesley for dinner, so we should be getting underway soon,”_ replied Wanda. 

“Go on then,” said Benedict.  “Have a lovely evening, and give them my love.” 

“We’ll fill you in on all the details when we’re next together in person,” Donna added quickly.  

_Which would be Thursday_ , thought Wanda with amusement _.   I can’t wait to see their faces!_

_I could swear they just did that,_ thought Timothy.  _But I suppose this was the abridged version._

_“It’s wonderful to see you both looking so happy,”_ said Wanda _. “Before we sign off, let me see how the ring looks on your hand, Donna.”_

Donna happily complied and displayed her left hand again.  “Here it is!  Isn’t it the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen?” 

_“It looks gorgeous!”_ exclaimed Wanda. _“Brilliant job, Benedict! You outdid yourself.  It looks even lovelier on Donna’s hand than it did in the box.”_

“I was just telling Tim how touched I am to be wearing Pauline’s diamond,” remarked Donna.  “I can’t believe how lucky I am!” 

“No, _I’m_ the lucky one,” countered Benedict with a wide smile as he kissed Donna on the lips. 

_No, my son, we’re the lucky ones.  We’re finally going to have a daughter-in-law, who’s going to not only make you very happy; but give us grandchildren as well.  Our luck will hold out as long as you don’t find out about the Plan,_ thought Wanda. 

_Let’s hope our luck doesn’t run out then,_ thought Timothy.  _It’s paramount that it remains that way, too._ _They’re made for each other, and we need to preserve the peace at all costs.  
_

_Hmmmm…do I detect worry in Wanda and Tim’s faces,_ thought Donna _.  I bet they’re thinking the same thing I am.  May Benedict never, ever, find out about the Plan.  I’ve had the opportunity to witness a few flashes of his legendary temper, and they were right.  It won’t be pretty if he does; but I can’t worry about something that may never happen for the rest of my life. I need to put it out of my mind and enjoy the moment._

“Having you in my life is an embarrassment of riches,” continued Benedict, taking Donna’s hand in his and kissing the back of it.  “I’m truly blessed.” 

“I love you very much,” said Donna, leaning over to kiss him. 

_For fucks sake, enough with the soppiness,_ thought Timothy.  _We have to be at the Wolesley at half six, and we still need to call the wanker parents.  
_

“Enough soppiness then,” laughed Benedict. “I’m just so fucking happy!” 

_“I couldn’t have said it better myself,”_ smirked Timothy.  

_“So, have you two made any plans?”_ inquired Wanda innocently.  _“Have you set a date yet?”  
_

_And so it begins,_ thought Benedict. _Mum wasted no time in getting to the real point of the call.  
_

_"Wanda!  Not now!”_ hissed Timothy under his breath, as his face clouded over.  _We have to call Donna’s family and head for the tube so we won’t be too late.  
_

Donna looked worriedly at Benedict, who was scowling at the computer screen, while rubbing this thigh. 

“For fucks sake!  We haven’t had a chance to discuss _anything_ yet, _Mother_!” 

_I have an awful feeling Donna and I are going to be getting pulled from all sides when it comes to planning our wedding._   

_Oh, oh.  My honey is not happy with his mother, nor is Tim.  Wanda doesn’t mean any harm. She’s just happy and excited to hear about our wedding plans._

“It’s okay to be excited, Wanda,” Donna said in a soothing tone. “I understand. My mom already emailed me a list of questions about the wedding, including if we decided which country to make our home base in, which was the only one I was able to answer. Hahaha!” _  
_

_“Why would she ask that?”_ asked Wanda.  _“The answer’s fairly obvious…”_

“Mum!” 

Timothy banged his fist on the desktop in anger. _“Wanda!”_

“That’s a fair question,” said Donna in an even tone. 

_Oh, fuck me, it isn’t!_ Thought Benedict woefully.  _You have no idea that Mum’s questions are never as simple or innocent as they seem._

“When I got here, my dad mentioned that there’s an opening for a junior restaurant critic at the New York Times, and asked if I were interested in the position.  And, yes, that would mean relocating to New York…” 

Wanda and Timothy noticed that Benedict appeared startled and taken aback by Donna's words.

Benedict felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end at his fiancee's words.   _How interesting.  Donna didn’t mention that little tidbit. The right bastard didn’t waste any time in trying to lure his daughter back to the States.  Antonia seemed concerned over lunch that we’re going to be living in London on a permanent basis, but I was able to dodge her questions with open-ended answers.  I need to make sure Donna and I are on the same page as to where our roots will be. After all, she was off her face that night at the Golden Fleece. Lord knows I've said enough things I didn't actually mean when in an intoxicated state.  
_

“Erm…this is the first I’m hearing about this, _Sweetheart_ ,” declared Benedict, feeling his stomach threaten to bottom out.   

Donna turned to him, and Benedict smiled at her thinly, lips compressed into a tight line.  “There’s nothing to tell, Ben.  Your work is in London.  You have work commitments stretching through the end of next summer.  I have a job there that I love and don’t want to give up.  I have no intention of taking that job and relocating to New York.  I told my mom that we’ll be making our home in London. I apologize if I spoke for you as well.” 

Benedict sighed heavily with relief.  _I got upset for nothing._   “No, no…I’m not upset…not at all.  I’m frankly glad to hear you say that.  It was one of the subjects I’ve been wanting to address with you; but you’ve gone and sorted it out for me.  Thank you.” 

_“So this means the wedding will be in London then,”_ said Wanda with glee. _“How positively splendid!  There are so many beautiful and unique venues here to…”_

_“They might want to have it in New York, which I’m sure also has many beautiful and unique wedding venues,”_ interjected Timothy impatiently. _“And if you’ve been listening at all, which you apparently haven’t, you’d know that they haven’t discussed it yet, for fucks sake!”_

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck and caught himself making a fist under the table.  _I’m getting a fucking headache. New York?  Why in the hell would we want to get married in New York, Dad?  Donna just said we’re going to be based in London.  I hate when he plays Devil’s Advocate, though I'm guilty of playing it myself.  
_

Donna laughed nervously.  “Benedict and I haven’t even set a date, yet alone discussed where to hold our wedding.  There’s so much we have to decide before making any set plans...there are so many options to choose from it's mind-boggling!” _  
_

_Hmmm…Donna might very well wish to be married here. After all she’s from here.  Her parish church is here. Her family and friends are here. Couples traditionally marry at the bride’s church…which in this case is here in New York. That thought never even crossed my mind. Whenever I fantasized about where we would marry, London has always been first and foremost in my mind._

_“I’m sure once you’ve sorted things out, you’ll let us know all in good time,”_ said Timothy, glaring at his wife, who glared daggers back at him. _“Just tell us the time and the venue, and we’ll be there.”_

_Thank you, Dad, for derailing the Wanda Express before it continues its journey to Wedding-land.  
_

Wanda sat still, nose in the air.  Donna could see she looked a bit miffed at the reprimand from her husband.  Timothy sat placidly as if nothing had happened.  He smiled cordially at her and Benedict, and then side-eyed Wanda, who looked as if she might say something nasty to him. 

_Jeez Louise!  I can’t have my future in-laws arguing over something that’s supposed to be happy.  Let me put them at ease.  
_

“I want to reassure you both that we would never keep you guys in the dark!” exclaimed Donna.  “We promise to keep both you and my parents informed as to all our wedding plans.  We want both of our families to be involved in them, don’t we, Ben Honey?” 

Benedict sat stoically, staring blankly at the computer screen whilst sipping his tea and trying to suppress his mounting anger. 

_NO! NO! NO! That is the last thing we want to do!  No, Donna, we don’t.  You have no idea what you’ve just said.  You’ve just given Mum the opening she’s been hoping for to stick her nose into everything, God help you…and me.  We are an ‘us’ now. Shit.  
_

_Oh, oh.  Ben Honey is not agreeing with me.  He looks pissed and he’s clenching his jaw, which is the precursor to an angry outburst.  Crap.  
_

_Thank you, Donna, for setting the Wanda Express back on track,_ thought a miserable Timothy.  _My son is in a strop, and I can’t blame him.  
_

Wanda clapped her hands together in delight, as a broad smile slowly spread over her pretty face. _“Oh, I can’t tell you how happy this makes me! I was worried that you might consider it meddling…”  
_

Benedict continued to fume as he glared at his mother. _Donna obviously doesn’t, but I know better, Mum. I know how you are.  This is meddling, and this is the foot hold you’ve been longing for.  
_

_“I have so many ideas to share with you and Ben,”_ said Wanda with great enthusiasm. 

“And we’d love to hear them,” said Donna with a smile. 

_Jesus fuck!  No, we don't! Donna is going to regret those words.  I need to set her straight as soon as we terminate this call,_ thought Benedict.  _She’s walked straight into the dragon’s lair, bless her.  
_

_"Brilliant!  I was concerned, Donna.  Not all future daughters-in-law take kindly to suggestions from their future mothers-in-law.”_   Wanda smiled smugly at Timothy, who sat still with compressed lips as if trying to keep from exploding.  _See, Tim.  I knew Donna wouldn’t be one of those future daughter-in-laws, who keeps everything a big secret and only tells her mother._

“I thought you two were in a hurry,” said Benedict.  

_“We are,”_ confirmed a disgusted Timothy, pushing back his chair. _  
_

Wanda looked at her watch _.  “Oh, we still have a little time to finish up our chat with you before we call Neil and Toni.  There are so many ideas swirling around in my head right now, Donna!  I can’t wait to sit down and discuss them with you.”  
_

_I notice I’ve suddenly been taken out of the equation,_ thought Benedict, looking at Timothy pointedly. Timothy rolled his eyes and crossed his legs. _Mum knows she’ll get farther with Donna than with me.  
_

“We’ll, of course, be happy to hear your thoughts and suggestions within the scope of reason, Mum; but please keep in mind that the final decisions are _mine and Donna’s_.  Not yours, Dad’s or Donna’s parents. We’ll keep you all informed of the plans, but this is not going to be a majority vote rules situation,” clarified Benedict through clenched teeth.  “Some ideas and suggestions are fine and may even be welcome; but I don’t want or expect to receive an unending stream of them; nor do I want us to be cajoled, pleaded or bullied into acquiescing to your wishes.  Demands will not be entertained at all, so don’t even attempt that or the guilt tactic. That one never works on me.” 

_Oh yes it does, Benedict,_ thought Wanda. _Playing the guilt card is my specialty and works every single time.  
_

_Ben’s being awfully difficult today.  I wish he’d tamp down that cheeky side of his just a bit,_ thought Timothy _.  Some of what he’s said is warranted; but some isn’t.  I'll deal with my wife later in my own way.  All Ben's done is whet his mother's appetite to take up the challenge._

Wanda said nothing as her son went on with his diatribe.  Timothy sat complacently as if he heard this all before. 

“Anyway, as you pointed out, Dad, there are a _lot_ of details to sort out.” _  
_

_Holy cow!  I can’t believe Benedict just spoke like that to his parents! He needs to take it easy. I thought for sure he would be on the same page as I am,_ thought Donna with disappointment. She reached under the table to take Benedict’s hand and found his fists clenched in his lap.  _Oh, oh…balled fists.  That’s not a good sign._  She glanced over at him.   _I see he’s clenching his jaw, which he only does when he’s good and pissed off. My crystal ball shows a lecture in my future.  
_

_“Why don’t we move on to the other reason we rang you_ ,” began Wanda, still smiling from ear-to-ear. _“Tim, why don’t you tell them since it was your idea?”_

“With your permission, we’d like to host an engagement party in your honour when you return to London,” announced Timothy, visibly brightening. “This way we can introduce Donna to our family and friends whom she hasn’t met yet.” 

“Feel free to invite whomever you’d like. That’s another reason why we’re ringing up your parents, Donna.  We want to invite them to come over for it,” added Wanda. 

“Thank you, Mum, Dad,” said Benedict in a monotone.  _How lovely.  This is going to be the engagement party from hell._

“Oh, how nice and thoughtful of you!” exclaimed Donna.  “It’s also very sweet of you to want to include my parents.” 

_We’re not inviting them because we want to, it’s because it’s the proper thing to do,_ thought Timothy.  _Damn my foolish ideals as to tradition.  Such a pity my son takes after me in that area.  
_

_Hahahahha! Oh, that’s a right corker! You’re so full of shit, Dad.  Even I know better than that!_ Thought Benedict with amusement. _Dad’s saying that out of a sense of duty.  He wants to do the proper thing.  Maybe I should try and find out what their schedules are and tell Mum and Dad to hold the party on a weekend that they have plans they can’t change._

“Well, we are going to be _family_ ,” emphasized Wanda.  _Oh, I hate that Ben’s in a mood, but oh, well, Tim and I can still have some fun taking the piss now.  
_

Benedict suddenly perked up as he remembered his prior conversation with his parents.  _They’re going to tell Donna about having the party at the Garrick Club. I can’t wait to see her face when she hears this.  She’s going to be soooo impressed and over the moon!_    

Timothy and Wanda side-eyed each other, and then Timothy cleared his throat as Wanda nudged his foot with hers. 

_“We thought we’d have the party at our favourite Chinese buffet in Chinatown…”_   Timothy began, willing himself to appear totally serious. 

Benedict shot his parents an angry look, as he banged his mug down on the table, tea sloshing over the rim.  “What fresh hell is this?  I thought we’d discussed this once already!” he spat in barely controlled fury. “What happened to holding the party at the…” 

Donna clapped her hands together in delight and patted Benedict’s shoulder.  “What a marvelous idea!  This way everyone can get up and walk around and mingle while trying all the different dishes.  I couldn’t think of a better venue!” 

“I could,” muttered Benedict. “In fact I can think of several off the top of my head.” 

“You’re talking about the Lotus Blossom restaurant right in the heart of Chinatown,” continued Donna, pointedly ignoring Benedict's snide remark. “I reviewed their buffet when I first arrived in London.  It’s one of my favorites!” 

_“Is it now?”_ inquired Timothy innocently, smirking at his son. 

_“Really?”_ chimed in Wanda.  _“How about that, Ben?  Lotus Blossom is one of Donna’s favourite buffets.”_

“Oh, yeah!  There’s a huge variety.  Everything is expertly prepared.  The food is always hot and freshly made.  Nothing is frozen or from a mix. The restaurant and kitchen are immaculate.  It’s a win/win,” replied Donna with great enthusiasm.  “I just love the idea of having our engagement party there!” 

“I’ve got an Ivy Club membership you could use,” suggested Benedict, looking at his parents pointedly.  “They have lovely private dining rooms, plus you can also take advantage of my member discount.” 

_“Lotus Blossom often has coupons you can print online, not that we’ve ever needed one.  Their prices have always been more than reasonable,”_ retorted Timothy.  _“All you can eat for one low price – soda and a respectable selection of teas included.”_

"Yes!  I enjoyed their lavendar oolong that last time I was there with Jimmy Rhodes.  It's one of his favorite places, too," added Donna.

"When was this?" inquired Benedict.  "You never said anything about going there with Jimmy."

"That's when I was dating both of you," giggled Donna.  

_“It’s BYOB, and they have a perfectly lovely private dining room,”_ said Wanda, pointedly ignoring Benedict.   _“You have to cross over a small bridge with a koi pond underneath it.”_

_“If we have enough people, we can book the entire restaurant,”_ added Timothy. _“Not that it’s a huge place to begin with.”_

“What about the Garrick Club?” asked Benedict hopefully. “I thought we had discussed having it at the Garrick Club?  What happened?” 

“The Garrick Club?” asked Donna, turning to him.  “You mean one of _those_ clubs where you have to be male in order to be a member?” she asked, wrinkling her nose in obvious distaste. 

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck as he flushed bright red.  “Well, yeah.  It is one of _those_ clubs. Dad’s been a member ever since I can remember, and it’s a perfectly lovely venue.  The food and service are superb and the atmosphere is very classy.” 

_“What about the Garrick Club?”_ asked Timothy innocently _.  “Do you fancy we hold it there instead, Ben?”_

“Yes, of course I fancy having it at the Garrick Club rather than the bloody buffet!  Any place would be better than the buffet - even Wimpy's!” 

"That can be arranged if you'd prefer," retorted Wanda.  "Wimpy's has always made a good burger. I bet we could rent out the Southwark location."

“No,” piped up Donna. “I think the Lotus Blossom would be perfect!” 

“Believe me, you don’t want to have our party there, _Sweetheart_!” snarled Benedict. 

“I like the idea of something casual and fun rather than a formal sit down dinner at a stuffy private club that doesn’t welcome women unless invited by the member.” 

Timothy looked slightly taken aback at Donna’s comment.  _“Whatever you two decide is fine with Wanda and me.”  
_

_“Just let us know what date would be good for you, so I can send out the invites,”_ said Wanda. _“They have the Peking Duck on Saturday nights, but Sundays are less crowded.”  
_

“Oh, their Peking Duck is excellent,” said Donna.  “I love their Peking Duck!” 

_“Well, it’s time to say goodbye,”_ said Timothy.  _“We’ve got to ring your parents now.  Love to you both.”  
_

As soon as the Skype call with his parents had been disconnected, Benedict got to his feet and began to pace around the kitchen.  He ran his hands through his hair and stopped to confront Donna, hands on his slender hips. 

“I really have to ask you:  are you daft?  Do you realize you’ve just opened up the floodgates to hell, allowing us nothing but endless and unrelenting suggestions and advice – no matter how well-intentioned?  Do you have any idea what sort of grief this is going to cause?” 

Donna looked truly perplexed.  “I take it you’re not happy right now.” 

“Correct.  I’m livid and trying very hard to control my temper.” 

“Which question do you want me to answer first?  If I’m daft or if I…" 

Benedict picked up the pacing again.  “Stop being so damn motherfucking cheeky! You know how my mother can be!  I’ve told you enough times what she’s capable of!” 

Donna got to her feet and went to the oven to remove the sandwiches. “I’m not being cheeky nor do I think your mother said anything that I consider to be over the top meddling.” 

He gave a bitter laugh and shook his head.  “You have no idea of what you did, do you?”   

“Um…well, I thought I did the right thing by including both sets of parents in our wedding planning,” replied Donna as she arranged the bacon and tomato slices on top of the sandwiches

“For fucks sake!  They are going to drive us crackers, Donna!  Don’t you see?” 

“No.  Don’t _you_ see?” 

Benedict stopped pacing and blinked at her uncomprehendingly.  “I see that by offering to include them, you’re going to make us totes miserable.  Mum will want to have a say or give an opinion on everything from selecting the wedding stationery down to where we should go on honeymoon.  Then we’ve got your parents to contend with as well.  Don’t you think they will want to have their say as well?  Do you really think for one solitary moment that the lot of them is going to just sit back and let us merrily make decisions on our own without _any_ interference of _any_ kind whatsoever?” 

“I think I’m ravenous is what I think,” said Donna, plating the sandwiches, and sprinkling chopped parsley over the tops. 

“You can bin mine, I’m not hungry,” snapped Benedict, leaving the kitchen in a huff. 

Donna heard the coat closet in the entrance hall open and slam shut.  “Ben?  Where are you going?” she called out. “Nothing’s open yet!” 

“Up to the roof terrace to have a fag and a think!” he shouted angrily, stomping up the steps. 

_Hmmm…if this is how Benedict acts over my wanting our families to be involved in our wedding plans, I shudder to think what he’d be like if he found out about the Plan.  It would be ugly. He’s not being very understanding or considerate of our parents’ feelings, particularly his own.  
_

Donna looked out her kitchen window and saw that the sky had begun to cloud over and the wind had picked up. “The ice storm cometh,” she said aloud. _  
_

_I hate that he’s going up on the roof to smoke.  He hasn’t even taken one puff for such a long time.  I hope it doesn’t lead to his resuming that nasty little habit of his.  I should throw his food out.  He would deserve it,_ thought Donna as she sat down at her kitchen table and began to eat her Kentucky Hot Brown alone.  

_But why waste a perfectly tasty sandwich.  Benedict will realize he’s wrong, get too cold or hunger will win out and sooner or later he’ll come down looking for a hot meal by the fire._

  

****************************************************

“Well done Tim!  You’ve just once again demonstrated why you’ll always be my favourite actor,” smiled Wanda, getting up to retrieve the candy dish filled with Baci chocolates from the end table.   

Timothy raised an eyebrow at her. “Was it the vast range of emotions I just exhibited during our Skype call that causes you to hold me in such high regard?”  

“No. It was the way you admirably stifled the constant urge to release your pent up laughter at Ben’s posh attitude about the buffet!” 

“I almost bust a gut when Donna declared that she thought it a genius suggestion to have their engagement party at the buffet!” 

Wanda offered the candy dish to Tim, who took two. “Oh, I had all to do to keep a straight face myself! We really did a brilliant job of taking the piss!” 

“And Donna stepped right in and helped us, unbeknownst to her,” chortled Timothy. “Ah, that was hilarious yes?” 

“The look on Benedict’s face was priceless!” 

“Who would have expected that Donna would actually fancy the idea of having their engagement party at the Lotus Blossom?” asked Timothy whilst unwrapping a candy and popping it into his mouth. 

“Not me.” 

“Nor me.” 

“I guess you don’t have to worry about booking the Garrick Club after all,” mused Wanda.  

“No.  Just think of all the money we’ll be saving by having it at the Lotus Blossom, especially with no bar bill. We’ll bring along a magnum of champagne for a toast and get a cake, of course.” 

“Our son was in rare form today,” declared Wanda.  “If I were there I’d be sorely tempted to box his ears for his cheek.” 

“You got what you wanted, Pet.” 

“I’m chuffed that Donna intends to involve us in the wedding plans.” 

“Benedict made no bones about his wanting us to not be.” 

“I had a feeling that she would be generous like that.” 

“Be careful, Commander.  You’re threading dangerous water here.” 

“I’m not worried in the slightest.  Donna will talk him around.” 

“You son, who is very stubborn, made it very clear that he would prefer we keep out of any planning, which is what my counsel was and still is.” 

“And which I suppose I’ll wind up minding. As you said, we need to be the good ones.  Give advice or suggestions only if solicited by one of them.” 

“I promise that you’ll never be asked by Ben.  He fancies doing it with the woman he’s going to marry.” 

“We’ll see about that.  Thanksgiving dinner should prove to be every entertaining,” snickered Wanda. 

“Let’s hope it’s not too entertaining,” sighed Timothy. “There’s nothing worse for the digestion than a holiday row.” 

“You know, part of me was primed to host it at the Garrick Club,” said Wanda.  “It’s such an impressive venue.  Her parents would have approved.” 

“I don’t give a toss as to what her parents approve or don’t approve of.  It’s all about what Ben and Donna want.” 

“Well, one wants it and the other doesn’t. You saw the expression on Ben’s face and heard the tone of his voice.  Our son is not over the moon with having his engagement party at the Lotus Blossom.” 

“Truth to tell, Pet, I was a bit annoyed at Donna’s comment about my club. Why would she make a fuss about having a nice sit down dinner?  The Garrick Club does a cracking job with catering!  The staff _is_ warm and welcoming to female guests.  You’ve always been treated properly whenever we’ve gone have you not?” 

“Well, it _is_ stuffy; and they _do_ only allow male members. I'm not allowed to make a booking - even with your membership number.  It has to be you who makes the blood call. Donna's not wrong about that. However, I have been made to feel welcome whenever I’ve been with you.” 

“It made me feel…I don’t know…as if I weren’t in step with the times.” 

“That’s because you’re not.” 

“And you are?” 

“Most certainly. I’m a computer genius, according to you.” 

“You’re one up on me then.” 

“I think that’s because I’ve always had a burning desire to embrace new technologies more than you have.” 

“That's because I've always had a burning desire to embrace you," quipped Timothy with a smile.

"You're a dear, dear man, Timothy Cumberbatch."

"I adore how you pride yourself on your computer-hacking abilities,” pointed out Timothy with a smug smile. 

“Ben can’t be the only one in the family who excels at that.  I think I’ve actually gotten better at it than he is.” 

“Do you think I should let my membership expire next year then?” 

“Absolutely not! You enjoy going to meet up with your friends to have a catch up over lunch and to play cards. How many times have you spent an afternoon enjoying their library or sitting by the fire with a drink or a coffee?  I don't mind partaking of a nice dinner there on occasion with our friends.  The members only clubs are old school. The important thing is you enjoy it immensely. Why should you deprive yourself of that just because your future daughter-in-law doesn’t approve?” 

“You’re right.  I won’t buckle under to peer pressure, and will proudly renew my membership next year. So, shall we place that Skype call to the Saint Jameses then?  We can use our dinner plans as an excuse to keep the call short.” 

Wanda took a handful of candy and put them on the desktop.  “I’m fortified with candy and my mint chocolate tea.  Go ahead and ring them,” she said returning the candy dish to the end table. “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.” 

Timothy saw that Antonia Saint James was signed onto Skype.  “Are you sure you wouldn’t fancy checking your hair and makeup one last time before I ring them?  I thought I noticed a strand out of place…OOOOFFF!” he shouted as one of the small decorative pillows from the couch hit him on the head again. 

“No, but I think _you_ need to comb _your_ hair,” smirked Wanda Ventham, as she sat in her chair.  “You’ve got quite a few strands out of place.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Wow! I can't believe that I've actually written over ONE MILLION WORDS during the course of this story. LOL!
> 
> 2\. I did a little research of snow removal in NYC and winged the rest. 
> 
> 3\. Bobby Flay is an American celebrity chef, restaurateur, and reality television personality. He is the owner and executive chef of several restaurants, including two of my favorites, which I mention below.
> 
> 4\. Bar Americain is probably my favorite restaurant in NYC. They make the best brunch IMHO, and I love their version of the Kentucky Hot Brown. The now closed Mesa Grill was also a family favorite. Sadly, it never re-opened and there are still two locations: one in Las Vegas and the other in the Bahamas.
> 
> 5\. I share Donna's affection for cows and visited the Richard Bramble stand at Borough Market. I only bought mugs and potholders though. Donna went crazy. LOL BTW, Richard Bramble makes pottery with other farm animals, fish etc. 
> 
> 6\. Yes, there will be friction when it comes to the wedding planning. 
> 
> 7\. Reminder: this plot and the characters personalities, beliefs and opinions were conceived well before the events that happened in the real Benedict's life took place; so no shade is being thrown.


	131. Chapter 131

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Benedict gets dressed down. Timothy and Wanda’s plan backfires. Donna tells the backstory of her brownstone. Benedict and Donna set a wedding date. 
> 
> Note: I’ll be using ********* for things happening at the same time.

 

Benedict Cumberbatch stood on Donna Saint James’s roof terrace, hunched over the railing with his forearms resting on the edge of the metal railing. He shivered slightly as the cold wind whipped around him. 

_I acted like a total arse before.  Why do I react so defensively towards Mum?_

Benedict’s eyes were starting to tear from the cold, and he brushed them away with his gloved hand.

_Because I’ve had years of experience in dealing with her antics, and Donna hasn’t.  
_

The sound of the door leading to the terrace opened behind him and immediately banged shut from the force of the wind.  He heard Donna utter a string of swear words at the door. This was followed by the sound of her feet crunching in the thin layer of snow as she approached him.

_Donna’s come to collect me.  She must be worried I’d freeze to my death up here or maybe she’s come to dress me down…though that’s not her style._

Benedict felt an urgent tugging on his sleeve and turned to find Donna dressed in a heavy parka and gloves.  Her head was covered by a faux fur-trimmed hood and her feet were clad in knee high snow boots. 

“Were you afraid I had turned into an ice lolly?” he asked her in a voice tinged with sarcasm.

 

*******************************************************

 

Donna Saint James ate half of her sandwich with gusto, but soon found that she no longer had much of an appetite.  She pushed her plate aside and sipped from the mug of hot tea as she reviewed the Skype call conversation.  The sound of the cow kitchen clock mooing the hour interrupted her thoughts.

_He’s been up there almost half an hour.  That’s long enough to get frost bite if he’s not bundled up.  Holy cow, Donna!  What are you thinking? This is Benedict Cumberbatch - the man who walks around London in the spring and summer half the time wearing a sweater and scarf. Of course he’s dressed warmly.  He’s still been out there a long time regardless.  Pouting no doubt.  I think I’ll go get him.  We need to come inside and talk this out before things get out of hand.  
_

After donning her heavy, down-filled parka, snow boots and gloves, Donna mounted the stairs to her rooftop terrace.  She could hear the blustery wind howling as she carefully pushed open the door, only to have it slam back against her.  The icy wind hit her face and felt like needles.  There was a broom leaning against the small storage shed that Benedict had obviously used to sweep some of the snow aside in order to clear a path to the railing.  He stood there stoically, gazing out at the other buildings surrounding him. Donna smiled to see him wearing a winter-weight parka with the hood covering his head as well as what looked like ski gloves and a scarf.

_I worried for nothing.  Benedict apparently thought to bring along his winter gear. He needs to come in though before one or both of us get frostbite in this friggin' cold._

Donna made her way over to stand beside Benedict and tugged his sleeve in order to get his attention.

“Were you afraid I had turned into an ice lolly?”

“I was getting concerned about you, but I can see you’re dressed warmly against the elements.  It’s really cold out here, so I hope you’re done sulking and come inside so we can talk.”

“I wasn’t sulking.”

“Yes, you are.  I know your pattern by now, Ben.  When you don’t get your way, you go off by yourself to sulk in private.  Not an attractive trait in a grown man, especially one who I think would want to be a positive role model for his future children.”

“I came up to get some fresh air and was so enchanted with the view; I decided to stay up here a bit longer so I can take it all in.”

“Funny, I thought you came up here to smoke.”

“I didn’t think to bring along a pack for unforeseen emergencies.”

“You can always buy a pack if you really must have one.  New York City does sell cigarettes at some of the newsstands...even Marlboro Lights, which I believe is your preferred brand.”

Benedict brushed some snow off the railing.  “No. It’s all fine. The urge has since passed, and I want to stay quit.  However, I feel all this …togetherness…this family planning - and I’m not referring to our procreating - is going to push me straight over the edge into the depths of wedding planning hell.  It’s utterly terrifying!”

“You were acting like a complete prick to your parents before. You made sure we all knew where you stood as to the engagement party and involving them as well as my parents in our wedding planning.”

Benedict ignored her words and brushed more snow off the railing.  He fixed his gaze on the back of the brownstone across from them.

_Okay.  I guess I’m going to have to continue this monologue on my own._

“There’s absolutely nothing wrong with having our engagement party at the Lotus Blossom Buffet.  I’ve given it my food critic's stamp of approval.  You need to get off your high horse about it.  That haughtiness you sometimes display is not pretty.  Please accept that our party is going to be at the buffet and resolve to make the best of it.  I promise you that it really will be a lot fun.”

“Our engagement party really was supposed to be at the Garrick Club you know.  Mum and Dad love to tease me about the buffet because they know I don’t think it’s a proper venue to hold an engagement party in. They told me that the Garrick Club was the plan, and I thought everything had been sorted out until you had to throw your two pence into the ring and cock things up!”

“Excuse me, but this engagement party is for _us_.  Remember, we are an ‘us’ now.  You said so yourself, Benedict; or perhaps you’re going to change your tune because one of ‘us’ isn’t happy with the change of venues?  When there’s an ‘us’ involved, it means I also get a vote in the matter.  It’s not just about what you want any more.”

“We’re supposed to compromise when we disagree.”

_In other words, Mr. Cumberbatch would prefer that I give in and go to Tim's club. Grandpa Colin calls them fancy private clubs for toffs._

“That’s right, but do you _really_ want to take me to celebrate our engagement at a place where women are only tolerated, rather than truly welcomed?”

“Oh, for fucks sake, Donna!  Now, you’re the one who’s being difficult. Can’t you just be a good little soldier and go with the flow?”

“Not if given a choice:  absolutely.  However, I was."

"Not really. Besides they were only taking the piss on my account."

"Your parents didn’t look pissed off at all about going to the Lotus Blossom.  They looked pleasantly surprised that I liked the idea of it.”

“Why a buffet of all blasted things?”

“You may be surprised to hear that we regularly review buffet restaurants at the Tribune because we found they are very popular with our readers.  I can show you all the requests we get to review them. People enjoy the variety of foods and the chance to mingle, which is relegated to your surrounding table mates at sit down dinners for the duration.  It was very nice of your parents to even offer to throw us a party in the first place, as it’s one of those things that isn’t being done as much as it once was.”

“Alright. Fine then," said Benedict petulantly. "I’ll compromise and shut up about the buffet; but I won’t go happily.”

“Once again, you’re demonstrating what a fine role model you’re going to be for our future children.  I may be forced to keep them away from you until they’re grown and can understand about their father’s tendency to pout.”

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

“He can’t help you, I’m afraid.”

“You’re really being a tough bitch about this.”

“Yes, I am; and unfortunately for you, this tough bitch isn’t done with you yet."

“Bloody hell, Donna!  Please just finish dressing me down then, why don’t you?”

“I realize that you don’t want either of our families directly involved in our wedding plans.”

“You have excellent observation skills, Miss Saint James,” snickered Benedict.

“I don’t see anything wrong in including both sets of parents in our wedding plans.”

_She sees nothing wrong, bless her.  I, on the other hand, see plenty - plenty of trouble._

“Then you’re blind, _Sweetheart_!”

_And there we have the snotty version of Sweetheart. Good gravy, he’s not easy._ _I thought this was going to be a breeze!  Was I wrong!_

“Donna, you haven’t a clue as to what you’re letting yourself – us in for!  What should be a thoroughly enjoyable experience is going to turn into something we’ll both come to loathe doing.”

“Well, I think you’re wrong.  Look how happy your mother was when I told her that we wanted to include them!!”

“Of course she bloody well was!” snorted Benedict. “You just gave her carte blanche to meddle in our fucking personal business!  She’s pleased as punch!”

“You're making way too much out of this.  Your mom is excited and happy that you’re getting married, Benedict.  She wants to be involved in the planning just like my mother does.  That's all there is to it!” 

“Yes, lest us not forget about the other side of the proverbial coin:  your parents.”

Donna narrowed her eyes at him.  “What about them?”

“They are the last ones I want involved in our wedding plans.  In their own way, they are even worse than my mother.”

“My parents were involved in the planning of both Kenny and Carly’s weddings.  Kenny’s wife, Scarlett, happily included them, and they were thrilled.”

“I bet they were,” snorted Benedict again.

“They, along with Steve’s parents,  were a tremendous help to Carly as Steve was studying for his med boards and going to medical school interviews.  He had little to no time to devote to wedding preparations and was grateful for their help.”

_Hmmm....to be fair, Steve did say that; but that was only because they were all on the same page as to what they wanted.  There were no conflicts.  Hell, there's already a fucking conflict with the engagement party venue._  

“We don’t need help with this, Donna.  We know what we want.”

“Do we?  I don’t recall you and I ever discussing it.”

Benedict turned his attention to the small back garden on the left, where two children were putting the finishing touches on a snowman.

"They shouldn't be out here in this," he commented.

"Neither should we."

"They're not wrapped up warm enough for this wind. If they were mine, they'd be sat in the house by the fire drinking hot chocolate and playing board games or watching a family-friendly film on the telly."

Suddenly, a man came outside and shepherded the children into the brownstone. 

"It's about time he hauled his bum out here and tended them," said Benedict flicking a bit of accumulated snow off the railing.

The couple stood in silence for several minutes.  Donna could still feel the tension between them.  She moved closer to him and reached out to rub his back in small circles.  

“Look, Ben.  It’s only natural for our parents to want to share in our special day.  I know my parents and what they’re capable of.  They can be true miseries at times.  I also have a good idea of what yours are like as well after spending time with them over the past several months.  Not one of them is a saint – except for maybe your dad.”

Benedict smiled at that.  “Yes, Dad has always been the voice of reason, bless him.”

“And believe it or not, mine is as well when my mom goes off the deep end into what he calls ‘Toni’s pool of enthusiasm’.”

Benedict chuckled.  “I like that.  Very apt, yes?”

“Oh yeah.”

Neither said anything for several more minutes.  Donna hugged herself against the cold and leaned even closer to Benedict, who wrapped a protective arm around her in an attempt to shield her from the wind.

“I think you and I need to go inside and sit down together and discuss what we want first.  Then that is when we'll begin to include them,” said Donna.  “ _After_ we’ve made our decisions.”

Benedict started.  “That’s not truly including them.”

“It’s integral that you and I have a concrete idea as to what we want our wedding to be like. Then if one of them makes a suggestion or comes up with an idea as we go along that we actually like, then we can consider it.  If it makes sense, we can take the advice.  If not, we politely thank them and stick with our original plan.”

“You make it sound so simple.”

“That’s because it is.  The whole point is that we discuss everything in private before committing to anything, and if we need to reject an idea, we do it tactfully.  If we accept one, we’re such wonderful children to take their advice.”

“That might actually work, you clever little minx.”

“I don’t like the idea of just turning them away without even listening.  It’s fucking rude.  You’re not a rude person by nature, Benedict.  You’re usually a kind, thoughtful and considerate man.  I need that man to be by my side when dealing with our parents.  We need to all get along, and I can’t emphasize that enough.  You’re the one who once told me that you’ve witnessed tension with a couple of your friends and their in-laws and didn’t want that with your own.  This is your chance to ensure that you get off on the right foot.  I want us to keep our parents abreast of our plans.  This way they will feel included even if we don’t take their advice, and we will have little-to-no stress as a result.”

“From your mouth to God’s ears.”

The couple stood on the roof terrace in silence for what seemed like an eternity to Benedict. Tiny pellets of ice had begun to fall, and the wind had picked up even more. 

“Are you done then?”  Benedict asked.

“Yes.  I’m done having my say.  How about we stop bickering and go inside.”

“We weren’t bickering.  You were lecturing me as if I were a selfish and petulant child.”

“Sorry, but that’s how you were acting; and you needed to hear it.  I’m sorry, but you need to learn to give more when it comes to give and take.  Your parents are getting up there in age; and you need to be considerate of them and indulge them, Benedict.  We only get one set of parents in this life, and we need to cherish ours. You’re usually so loving towards them and you always treat them very well and with the utmost of respect. These are happy times that should be shared with them – as well as my own parents!”

Benedict felt overwhelmed by a pang of guilt.  _She's gone and made a very valid point.  Mum and Dad aren't getting any younger...they are much older than Donna's parents.  I want nothing more for them than to see me marry the woman I love and give them grandchildren. I want to make these happy times for them - especially for Dad since I'm his only child._

“I didn’t really come up here to sulk, regardless of what you may think, Donna."

"Enlighten me then please.  Why did you want to come up here in an ice storm?"

"I came up here for the view, which is rather…lovely.”

“You know damned well it’s a shit view - unless you actually enjoy looking at the backs of other brownstones and apartment buildings.”

“You’re right.  It’s a perfectly rubbish view, which is such a shame because it’s actually quite spacious up here.  You can do a lot with it.”

“Now, I hope you can understand why I only come up here to use my barbeque grill.  In the spring and summer, I’ve got trees and shrubs in the planters to act as camouflage; but it doesn’t do much to hide the fact that I’m still in the middle of New York City.  Your roof garden may be small, but it’s so much nicer and the view is unsurpassed.”

“It’s superior because I’ve a clear view across to the Heath and London beyond it,” agreed Benedict. “Like you just said, your surrounded by views of old buildings.”

“If you look down, you can see into our backyard, though it's really Carly and Steve's.  The deal was that I get the roof garden, and they get the backyard because the logistics made sense.  However, I'm welcome to use their back yard whenever I want.  They did a great job landscaping it; but they’re still surrounded by these buildings.  Carly says it’s like being in a fishbowl whenever they are outside.”

“I wish I had more room to add more seating and plantings to my roof terrace,” sighed Benedict longingly.  “I also yearn to have a proper garden of my own. I would grow flowers and vegetables.”

“Maybe we can find a place with more room so you can have both,” suggested Donna.  “We’re going to have to talk about that – amongst other things.”

“Agreed,” said Benedict, turning and pulling her into a tight embrace.  He lifted her chin so he could kiss her.  They laughed as their hoods provided them with a dry cocoon in which to share a couple of gentle kisses.

“Your lips are like ice,” he murmured.  “Let me warm them some more.”  He kissed her again.  “Christ, this coat is supposed to be insulated against the cold; but I’m feeling starting to feel the chill through it.”

“Your nose is cold,” said Donna, kissing the tip. “Better?”

“Yes.  I’m truly sorry for acting like such a pompous, entitled, selfish dick.”

“I couldn’t have put it better,” quipped Donna, kissing his nose again. “You’re shivering, Ben.  Let’s go back inside.”

“That’s a brilliant idea! I’m freezing my bits off and starving.  I really hope to God you didn’t take me seriously and bin that tasty-looking sandwich.”

“Your sandwich is in the warming drawer.  However, we need those bits of yours in peak form in order to make babies one day; so we need to get you back inside pronto so they can warm up.”

“Are you volunteering to give them a proper warm up them?” inquired Benedict with a sly grin.

“Whatever it takes,” said Donna with a sultry smile.  “I’m always willing to take one for the team.”

 

*****************************************************

 

“Hells bells!  Who would have thought they’d come all the way to London for an engagement party?” cried Wanda Ventham in frustration once the Skype connection had been severed with Neil and Antonia Saint James.

Timothy huffed and shut down the computer for the night.  “Not I.”

“What’s worse is that they were over the moon about having it at the buffet. They actually fancy the idea!”

“And offered to split the bill with us, which was very generous of them,” added Timothy. 

“I’m glad you told them no.”

“I want them to have sufficient funds left to pay for the wedding, besides the groom’s family pays for the engagement party, Pet.”

_There goes my husband with his old-fashioned ideas again!  I need to find that posh etiquette book he took out from the library and return it.  The blasted thing is from the nineteen fifties for fucks sake!_

“We had cake and ginger beer when we got engaged, and your family didn’t contribute one quid to it.”

“That’s because it was just you and me,” Timothy reminder her.  "We had our own private celebration."

“And Benedict - he was there as well – so to speak.”

“Speaking of the Barrister, he didn’t wish us safe travels to Greece,” snickered Timothy.  “We got away with that one, Love.”

“Give him time, it’ll come to him,” Laughed Wanda.  “We’ll need to make sure not to talk with him on camera until Thursday.”

“Not a problem.  We’ll blame it on our faulty old laptop with the rubbish built in camera.”

“Our laptop is fine.”

“Yes, but the Barrister doesn’t need know that.”

 

***************************************************

 

“Mmmm…you were so right about makeup sex,” Donna whispered into Benedict’s ear, as she placed the bubbling hot, open-faced sandwich before him.  “It’s very, _very_ hot.”

“I can see the steam.”

“I’m talking about makeup sex, not the food, silly!” giggled Donna.  “The plate is hot though, so be careful.”

“We didn’t even argue all that much,” mused Benedict.

“To be fair, I lectured and you listened.”

“I don’t know why you stay with me sometimes, and this was one of them,” Benedict began.  “I’m sorry for being so damn stropy and stubborn today.  It was never my intent to deliberately hurt or offend anyone.”

“It’s okay,” said Donna, bringing him a mug of hot tea. "This wedding planning is going to be a learning curve for both of us."

"Thank heavens we're only going to do it once."

"Just be diplomatic and considerate when dealing with our parents.  Think before you open your mouth and make sure you really want to say what you're planning on saying and what repercussions any statements might have."

“I fear my mouth filter is in dire need of major repairs then.”

“I think its shot and you need to find a new one.”

Donna poured herself a fresh mug of tea and added milk and sugar to it, as Benedict began to eat his sandwich.

“This is very, very…yummy,” he said around a mouthful.  “Mmm…you can make this for me any time.”

"You say that about everything I cook for you."

"That's because you're a brilliant cook.  Everything you make is amazing."

"You're a very good cook in your own right, Ben."

"That was very kind of you to say so. I enjoy getting positive feedback."

"As do I."

"Even a little positive reinforcement goes a long way."  He smiled and crinkled his nose at her.

_I get it Ben.  You're trying to tell me that you thrive on being reviewed all the time regardless of whether it's your performance in the bedroom or in the kitchen, you want that review.  I'm glad he didn't ask me about his performance in the laundry room - that would not have been a good one.  I need to do the laundry._

"It must be the actor in me that forever craves a good review."

"It's a damn good thing you're going to marry a critic, Ben Honey.  You'll be guaranteed a life-time of reviews."

"As long as they're not coming from your father," snickered Benedict as he ate some more of his sandwich.  "I don't think I could tolerate being reviewed constantly by him. My ulcer would be back in a fortnight."

"Then it's a good thing you're in London and he's here.  You only have to worry about the wrath of Uncle Rodney."

"Ugh!  Don't remind me."   _I'm sure the Actors Guild was horrified when word reached them that the cocksucker came out of retirement._

“Your parents are so cute.  I loved seeing how happy and excited they are about us getting married.”

“I really do see how over the moon my parents are for us in spite of what you might think.  The poor loves waited an age for me to finally find the right woman.  Hell, I waited an age for it to happen, and they know how dearly I longed for it.  No wonder they took out an ad in the London Times to tell the world someone finally wanted their son.”

_And you might be surprised to learn that your mother took out an ad in Craigslist to find you that wife you wanted so badly...hmmm...not surpised.  Fucking pissed off is more like it.  I hate when he talks so disparagingly of himself!_

Donna sat across from him and reached out to take his large hand in her small one.  “You talk like you’re damaged goods. I wish you’d stop talking like that.”

“There were times when I actually felt that way…that there must be something wrong with me because every relationship I ever had turned to shit.”

“This one hasn’t. ”

“No.  This one I got right and it continues to flourish in spite of my sometimes cocking it up.”

“There are always going to be bumps in the road, Ben Honey.  It’s how we go about navigating them that counts. We were both gun-shy about relationships when we met.  I think we’ve gotten much better at facing challenges, and we do manage to work them out.”

_Except for that one little thing you don’t know about.  
_

“Yeah, we do manage to sort things out one way or another.”

“The important thing is we’re together and all is well in the world.”

_For now at least._   _If he ever finds out, all bets are off._

“I was a bit worried up on your roof terrace that you might change your mind.”

“You need to stop being so insecure, Benedict. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

_Unless you happen to find out about the 'other' ad.  Then you might want to show me the door._

“I’ve punched well above my weight when I pulled you.  You’re out of my league, Darling; and I thank God every night before I go to sleep that I have you in my life. I feel truly blessed.”

“I think we’re both well-matched in all areas.”

“Particularly in sexual ones.”

“You'll get no argument from me!”

“So, do you fancy doing some wedding planning after I’ve finished this delicious sandwich?”

“Do I ever - Yes!” exclaimed Donna with delight.  “I’ll set our laptops up in the living room, and we can sit by the fire and make some plans.”

 

 

Twenty minutes later Benedict Cumberbatch and Donna Saint James sat on the floor side-by-side with their backs resting against the couch and laptops on the coffee table. 

“Shit.  You may have a point about wedding planning not being as simple as I envisioned it to be,” complained Donna, reviewing her emails.  “I suddenly find myself on all these mailing lists having to do with weddings – in London.”  She looked at Benedict pointedly.  “I wonder who could be signing me up.”

"Well it sure as shit wasn't me!"  Benedict scratched the tip of his nose and side-eyed her.  “Do you _really_ have to wonder who the culprit is?”

_No.  I don’t.  Wanda must be hard at work preparing to give me her sales pitch as soon as I return.  How does she even know we want to be married in London?  
_

“Good gravy!  Your mother wasted no time.”

“And this is just the beginning of what I feared would happen.  Dad doesn’t refer to her as the Wanda Express for naught.  I see my inbox has also been flooded with most likely the same.  So how does your calendar look?”

Donna opened up her calendar for 2010 and gave it a quick once-over.

“Well, I’ve two weddings:  your friend, Mark’s, in January and my cousin, Kayla’s wedding in April."

"Am I invited to your cousin's wedding?"

"Now that we're officially engaged you will be; but it'll be in New York, and you'll be filming Sherlock." 

"No, that won't work. You'll have to make my excuses and go without me. What else do you have?"

"I’ve got several work-related events:  A Taste of London in mid-June, The Chocolate Festival in early December, the BBC Good Food Festival in late August, The London Coffee Festival in mid-April, The Great British Food Festival in late June, London Wine Week in early May, the Artisan Cheese Festival in early October, The London Craft Beer Festival in late October.  Other than that – I’m wide open.”

“What about the surprise wedding anniversary party you were planning with your brother and sister for your parents?  When was that again?”

_SHIT!  How on earth could I have forgotten about that little_ _white_ _lie?  Leave it to my honey to remember it.  I have to corner Kenny and Carly about that on Thanksgiving.  Wait!  I think I managed to waffle my way out of that…I think I said I had gotten the years mixed up._ _Why do I have the feeling this is a pop quiz?_

“Remember, I told you that I had gotten the years mixed up.  The year after next is a big one for them.  How’s your calendar looking?  I hope you have the latest version.”

“Ah, splendid!  Emmy just emailed me my updated calendar last night along with congratulations.  Yeah…I’m waiting for it to open…FUCK!  Now, my damn laptop decides it fancies doing some automatic updates. ARRRGGGHHH!”

Donna leaned over to peek at his screen.  “Oh, that won’t take long,” she said getting to her feet and going to the window.  “It sure is dreary-looking out there.  I think I can see ice pellets coming down along with some snow.  This is such odd weather for November.  We usually see stuff like this in January and February.”

“I…erm…have been meaning to ask you something about this brownstone,” began Benedict, rubbing the back of his neck.

“What?”

“It’s rather a personal question, so I don’t want you to feel obliged to respond.”

“Go ahead and ask away.  Half of this place is going to be yours, too."

"Beg pardon?" asked a clearly puzzled Benedict.

"I’d like to add your name to the deed as an owner after we’re married.  That way Carly and Steve will own half and we’ll own the other half.”

“That’s very generous of you, but are you absolutely certain that's what you want to do?”

Donna turned away from the window and nodded.  “I think we should merge all of our assets.  I don’t see the point in keeping everything separate.  I know some couples do, but I don’t like that idea. To me, marriage is a merging of two lives and everything that goes along with those lives.  If you have no objections, Ben, I’d like for us to open joint checking and savings accounts here and in London. What’s mine is yours and vice-versa.”

Benedict hesitated. “I agree for the most part and was going to suggest doing the same - until I saw this not-so-humble abode.  You're the one in possession of the far more valuable assets and earning power out of the two of us.  All I really have to offer going into this marriage is my flat, an old Mitsubishi and whatever money I have in the bank, which as your mother so kindly pointed out isn’t all that much.”

“That may all change one day, Benedict.  You never know what doors _Sherlock_ or _After the Dance_ are going to open.  You could find yourself with a runaway hit on your hands and tons of interesting acting opportunities to choose from.  Heck, I may find myself married to the star of a Hollywood blockbuster in the future.”

Benedict chuckled.  “I appreciate your encouragement and optimism, Darling; but it’s paramount that you really think this through before committing to anything.  I’m dead serious.”

“I was up early, so I’ve had plenty of time to think about this; and I’m absolutely certain this is the right thing to do.”

“I’m willing to wager that your parents won’t approve.”

“What you and I do with _our_ assets is none of their business. So, what do you want to know about this place?”

“How in the hell can you and Carly afford to maintain such a fine brownstone in such a tony area of Manhattan - especially one that comes with a two-car garage, which is a luxury in _any_ major city.   I realize you all make a decent living; but to be able to afford all this…” he gestured to the room.  “Both flats have obviously been renovated fairly recently.  The craftsmanship is just extraordinary. Not to mention that no expense has been spared when decorating either of them.  Everything from the drawer pulls to the furniture is of the highest quality.  The kitchens are equipped with state-of-the-art appliances, not to mention the laundry rooms and the loos. Bloody hell – it even has a lift!   I’m frightfully jealous.”

Donna started to laugh as she plopped down beside him.  She draped her arm around his shoulders and kissed him.   “Oh, Benedict, it’s not at all what you think.  Carly and I could never, _ever_ , afford to buy a house like this one, nor do we have the funds to furnish it like it is.”

Benedict frowned. “I’m afraid I’m not following you then.”

“We’ve only been living here for the past two years. Prior to that I was living with my parents and Carly and Steve were living in a tiny one-bedroom, walk-up apartment in the East Village. Carly and I had just finished grad school, and Steve was just starting medical school. I had gotten my first job doing restaurant reviews for New York Magazine, and Carly had just started her restaurant interior design business. I wasn’t being paid all that much at the time, so she convinced me to become her partner.  We named the business Carldonn Creative Designs.  As a matter of fact, what was meant to be a ground-floor rental apartment became our office.  Later on Steve was going to make it into an office if he went into private practice.  Then the London opportunities came up, and we decided to sublet the apartment to a young couple for a year.  They are acting as caretakers while we're overseas."

“If you were writing for the magazine, how did you manage to still be a partner in Carly's business?”

“My column was weekly, but like now it doesn’t take up my whole week.  I still had plenty of free time to help Carly with the leg work, which consisted of scouting out materials, furnishings and equipment in addition to the bookkeeping.  She concentrated on the actual design work and bringing the client's idea to fruition.  It was a lot of work, and we had a great time doing it.  Carly’s first job was designing an interior for Mario Batali, and he was so impressed with the result that he asked her to do his next two restaurants.  Word spread among his chef friends, and soon Carly was getting offers to do redesigns of established restaurant dining rooms as well.”

“So, this enabled you to acquire enough money for a down payment and your parents put in the rest?” asked Benedict.  “I remember Steve saying they had something to do with getting this house, but he never gave me all the details.”

“Nope.  My parents didn’t contribute a nickle towards this place.”

“I’m afraid I’m utterly confused then.”

“One day Carly got a call from this up and coming young chef.  He wanted her to design a themed restaurant for him, which concerned her because he wasn’t yet established as a big name chef.  The question was: where was he going to get the funds to pay for this very ambitious venture of his.  He assured Carly that his father would be bankrolling it – he was a big shot in the stock market.  Carly’s quote was enough to give even the most successful restaurateur pause for concern, but the father didn’t flinch.  Mom prepared a contract to protect us just in case things didn’t work out.  The man’s lawyers reviewed it and gave the go ahead; so he signed the contract.  Carly and I began work on it.  His vision was to have a Mexican restaurant that made the diner feel they were in Mexico.  He wanted the dining room constructed around a small pool to resemble a lake – like the Four Seasons has in their famous Pool Room.  It was going to be beautiful once finished.”

“Oh, I get it now.  That one huge job garnered the necessary funds.”

“Nope, it’s quite the contrary.  The restaurant was just about finished when the father was arrested for insider-trading.  It was quite a scandal, and Carly and I almost had a heart attack because we had taken out loans and had only been paid a deposit.  However, thanks to my mother and her contract, I sit in this fine living room today.”

“Ah, I see where this is going.”

“Mom’s law firm sued on our behalf.  It took a few years to go through the court system; but in the end our settlement consisted of this beautiful brownstone, which the father had recently renovated for himself and the chef son to live in with their families.  It was professionally decorated by one of most talented interior designers in New York City. This place came fully furnished, as you see it now – with a few exceptions that we added to make it more our own.”

“Are you referring to the bovine décor?”

“Yes, like my beloved cows.”

“Well done, Antonia,” said Benedict with a low whistle.  “If I ever need a lawyer in the States, I’ll definitely use her.”

“That’s not all. We also got their cars as part of the settlement.  There were four all told, two of which are stored in the garage.  Carly took the Maserati that belonged to the father, and I took the son’s Porsche. We gave Kenny and Scarlett the mother's Mercedes SUV and the Lexus SUV went to Mom and Dad. There was even a Cessna Skyhawk light airplane, which the father flew for fun. Since none of us fly, we gave it to Grandpa Colin.  He keeps it in a tiny hangar out at Teterboro Airport, so he can go out there and take it up for a ride whenever he wants.  So, in the end all we pay for are property taxes, utilities and the block association fee, which the rent we collect for the ground-floor apartment goes towards.  If we were to consider subletting our apartments, we could really make some serious money; but neither of us are thrilled with strangers living in our apartments temporarily.”

“Christ! That’s fucking amazing.  Whatever became of the Mexican Restaurant?”

“It was sold off as part of the settlement to a business man, who turned it into a high end health club.”

“The updates are done, so shall we set our wedding date?”

Donna leaned over to watch as Benedict opened up his calendar.  “This doesn’t look so bad at all!  _Sherlock_ filming ends in late April and _After the Dance_ doesn’t start until June eight.  We’ve got the month of May if we want to have a spring wedding!”

“How I wish it were that simple, Darling.  Unfortunately, I see that Emily neglected to block off the rehearsal time for _After the Dance_.  In reality, I’m committed from January thru August between both gigs.  As soon as _Sherlock_ filming wraps in April, I go straight into six weeks of rehearsals for the play.”

“Okay.  It looks like _After the Dance_ is done August eleventh.  Then I see lots of other things penciled in, some with TBA.”

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck.  “Yeah…well, those are projects I’m committed to doing but just awaiting the actual filming/taping dates. _The Whistleblower_ was just postponed to next year, but that’s a small supporting role. I’ve got a few radio programmes lined up: the Cabin Pressure Christmas Special, two Rumpole episodes, and two narrations – one on Steven Hawking and the other on Terrance Rattigan, which is also a filmed documentary that will be partially filmed at Harrow.  Then there’s always the odd voiceover gig that I get offered on the spur of the moment.”

Donna bit her lower lip and sighed in frustration.  “This is crazy!  I can’t believe that between the two of we’ve got most of the year filled up already!”

“I don’t see a whole hell of a lot of time free,” agreed Benedict.  “I wish we could lay my calendar over yours, so it would be easier to see any conflicts.”

“A lot of my commitments start from the Spring and go through Mid-December; but I could change some of them.”

“I forgot to mention that I’ll also be expected to do a certain amount of promotion for _Sherlock_ and _After the Dance_ , not to mention the projects I’ve already done like _Small Island_ and _Third Star_.  They're all scheduled to premiere next year.  There will certainly be a fair amount of  press interviews, television appearances and premieres to attend…not to mention the odd openings and whatever other social events Karon can garner me invites to.  Next year is shaping up to be a fantastic year for my career in regards to creative and financial rewards.”

“What about your personal rewards?”

“Ah, well, that one is paramount in my mind, Darling, of course.  We’ll find a way to make the time.”

“Damn!  All I want to do is find time for us to get married!” Donna cried, smacking the edge of the glass-topped coffee table in frustration.  “You’ve got non-stop work as far as I can see! Wait!  Christmas Day is open.”

Benedict pursed his lips as he studied her calendar.  “I can’t make head or tail of yours.  You’ve got all these one to three day events planned.”

“It looks like we have no choice but to set a date in 2011.”

“No motherfucking way will I wait that long!”  Benedict said emphatically.  “We _will_ find a time slot for next year that works for both of us - even if it means going off to the registrar and getting married one day.”

“You mean forego a reception?”

“No!  Of course not, but we can always have a party at another time.”

“Does this also mean postponing our honeymoon as well?” Donna asked incredulously.

Benedict nodded.  “I’m afraid it does.  It’s not like we’ll be sleeping together for the first time…the blush is off the rose, so to speak.”

“It’s not exactly the wedding I envisioned,” said Donna in a small voice.  “However, when life gives you lemons…”

“I know.  Make bloody lemonade.”

“This stinks.”

“I agree.”

“Part of me finds this funny because you’re the one who always carries on about doing things in the right order and the right way.  Now, you’re suggesting that we have a hodge-podge of events.”

“Don’t you think I want to do it properly?  Of course I do; but circumstances don’t dictate it as far as I can tell from these motherfucking calendars.”

“Why are you in such a hurry to get married, Benedict?  It’s not like our engagement has an expiration date or that I’m pregnant and we’re in a race to marry before the birth.”

Benedict sighed deeply as if annoyed.  “I just want for us to be married as soon as possible…there’s no special reason except for the fact that I love you and want to start our life together as soon as possible. I’ve grown weary and impatient waiting to realize my dream; and now that it’s within my grasp, I want it so very, very badly.  Is that such an awful thing?”

_Not in the grand scheme of things, I suppose.  We can always fly to Disney and just have the reception and/or honeymoon there.  That might not be too bad. We could_ _also_ _have our honeymoon at Euro Disney_ _if Florida turns out to be out of the question_ _. It would be an acceptable substitute.  I enjoyed my visits with Carly that summer we were at the Cordon Bleu._

“No, Ben Honey, of course it isn’t. How long do you propose we wait in between each event?”

“Erm…I think that would depend entirely upon our calendars.  Hopefully, there wouldn’t be a major time lag.”

_Or we could simply wait a little longer and do it up right.  He’s not going to like hearing this; but I’m going to suggest it._

“Let me put this on the table:  if we postpone getting married until 2011, we can have it all together rather than holding three separate events,” Donna said in a reasonable tone.

“That’s not an option,” said Benedict firmly, nose in the air.

Donna sat in stony silence.  _Has he forgotten what the word ‘compromise’ means?  
_

Benedict stared into the fire. _What happened to the fine art of compromise?  
_

“Planning a wedding is supposed to be fun,” commented Donna, fighting back tears of frustration.

“Look, I’m not any happier about this than you are, Donna.  You’re not the only one in this room who’s envisioned something different from what I’ve suggested.  For fucks sake, don’t you think that I’ve also held ideas as to what my dream wedding would be like? It’s an utterly wonderful dream that I’ve nurtured over the years.  Sad to say; but this is the only solution I can fathom.”

“And it’s a piss-poor one,” snapped Donna.

“Can you perhaps suggest something better then?” Benedict challenged her.

“I already did.  We wait until 2011, so we can have the wedding and reception we really want, followed by the honeymoon.”

Benedict ignored her comment as he pressed various keys on his laptop and huffed in frustration.

“Can’t you somehow merge the two calendars together? You’re much savvier when it comes to the computer than I am.”

_If Mum were here, she’d be able to do it for us in a tic._

“That’s a great idea, Ben!! I should be able to merge our calendars together being I used the same program for yours.  That’s the only way we’ll be able to tell without going crazy with comparing the two back and forth.  Give me a few minutes.”

“I think I’ll use the loo whilst you’re working your computer magic then.”

 

 

Ten minutes later Benedict returned to find a smiling Donna staring at the computer screen as her fingers flew over the keys.

“You’re looking to be in better humour.”

“That’s because I am!  I merged our calendars with no problem.”

Benedict approached the couch and sank down on the floor beside her.  “I have to ask you something.”

“Ask away.”

“Whilst I was in your loo, I had to replace the loo roll.”

“Thank you, Honey,” said Donna absently.

“There are spare ones inside the vanity that are wrapped in paper with Mickey Mouse on it.”

Donna nodded affirmatively, eyes fixed on the screen before her.

“There were also bars of soap wrapped in Mickey Mouse paper and little bottles of shampoo, conditioner and hand lotion – all with Mickey Mouse on them.”

Donna nodded again. “Yep, there are lots of them under there.”

“Whilst washing up, I noticed the soap was embossed with Mickey’s head as well.  Did you nick all that stuff from a Disney hotel room?” 

Donna stopped typing and regarded him for a moment.  “I didn’t nick them,” she replied defensively.  “They are the amenities that came with the room.”

“But the bloody loo rolls for fucks sake?  Those you nicked.”

“The mousekeeper left me more than I could ever use each day when she made up the room.”

“Mousekeeper?”

“That’s what we Disneyphile call the housekeepers.”

“Christ.”

“So I pack up the leftovers and take them home.  I like having them.  They are good quality, and make me smile whenever I use them because they remind me of happy times spent there.”

“Who am I to poke fun at something that makes you happy when you wipe your arse with it.  I’ve never thought to do that.”

Donna regarded him with a smirk. “Says the man who takes home all the food amenities from his hotel rooms.”

“What are you alluding to?”

“Whenever I’ve stayed at a hotel with you, I’ve seen you take home the packets of cookies and tea bags they leave by the kettle and any chocolates they put on your pillow that you don’t scarf down before bed.”

Benedict snickered.  “You’re forgetting the complimentary bottles of Bailey’s Irish Cream that they gave us at the Nare every night. I was too sick to drink them, and it seemed a shame to waste them.  As you said, they are amenities that come with the room.”

Donna shook her head and laughed along with him.  “We really are a well-matched pair.”

“That’s why we’re sitting here attempting to make wedding plans.  So, upon reviewing the calendars, what did you come up with?”

Donna smiled widely at him.  “Our wedding date:   Saturday, December 4th, 2010.”

Benedict’s face lit up upon hearing those words.  “December fourth.  That’s a simple date to remember.”

“Well, not only is it an easy date to remember; but if you look at the combined calendars, it’s now easy to see that we’ve both got the week before and the two weeks after completely free.”

“Three weeks is perfect. It gives us ample time to take care of last minute, pre-wedding details at our leisure; in addition to two weeks for a proper honeymoon afterwards!  Ah, that’s brilliant, Darling!  I’m so over the moon!”  Benedict lifted her chin and kissed her thoroughly. 

“You’ve got a few things penciled in for the week prior to Christmas; but we're both free after that.  It will give us time to get settled in our home.”

“And then nothing much happens in between Christmas and New Year’s so perhaps we can take that week to go somewhere else.  You’ve never been to our holiday house in Galaxidi.”

“No, I’ve never been to Greece; but that sounds like a great idea.”

“Then let’s add Galaxidi Holiday to our calendars.”

“Moving forward, I’m keeping an ‘our’ calendar. Every time you get something to add, I’m going to ask Emily to forward it to me.  This way we’ll never have to worry about conflicts.”

Benedict leaned his head back and spread his arms out along the seat of the couch. “Now that the wedding date’s been sorted, we need to settle on the type of wedding we want to have.  Let’s start by you telling me what your dream wedding is, Darling.”

_Well, Ben Honey, for starters, how do you feel about wearing a turban, white billowy pants and pointed slippers rather than a tux? No.  I could never come right out and ask him that.  How about: You know the Disney movie, Aladdin?  What would you say to getting married at Walt Disney World and having them transform the Contemporary Hotel’s ballroom into Agrabah? No. That sounds ridiculous now that the time has come to actually discuss the logistics.  Roy would have shut up and gone along with whatever I wanted.  Danny would have loved the idea of Agrabah. I don’t know for sure if Benedict would be ad versed to a Disney destination wedding, and I won’t know for certain until I broach the subject._

Donna shut down her laptop and swallowed hard.  She got up and walked to the window to look down at the street, which was covered in a coating of ice.  The ice pellets were hitting the window and she could see a gust of wind bend one of the trees across the street, whose branches were laden with an accumulation of ice.  The lights in the living room flickered.

_I don’t have to have an Aladdin-themed wedding.  That was just something I recently became fixated on.  I’ll just go back to my original dream wedding. That’s much more normal. Then why am I suddenly nervous about telling him?  This is Benedict, the man I love and am going to marry.  I shouldn’t feel like this…almost as if I’m ashamed of telling him what I’ve longed for since I was a little girl.  What if Carly’s right, and he won’t like the idea of a Disney destination wedding? Maybe I should just make something else up so he won’t think I’m a complete nutter as Grandpa would say.  Son of a bitch!  I need a drink!_

“Is something wrong, Donna?”

“No.  I’m going to make us some hot chocolate before I tell you.  I’ll be right back.”

“So all this talk of our wedding puts you in the mood for chocolate?”

_Like you don’t know.  I definitely need some chocolate!  
_

“It sure does.”

Benedict watched her hastily retreating back as she left the room.  He shut down his laptop and sat up straight, biting his lower lip in contemplation of Donna’s unusual reaction.

_Hmm…I felt a distinct chill in the room the minute I asked her to tell me what her ideal wedding would be. I would have thought she’d be bursting to tell me all about it – down to the last minute detail.  This is very unlike Donna._

Benedict got up to stretch his long legs and went to the window.  He stood, staring out at the ice storm for several minutes.

_I wonder if it has anything to do with marrying somewhere other than London and she’s hesitant to voice it.  Perhaps she’d prefer to marry on her home turf and she surmises that_ _I’d_ _insist on being married in London. This is why we have to talk to each other now and make compromises if necessary rather than wait.  We will almost assuredly be hit with a barrage of questions from her family on Thanksgiving and once we’re back in London, Mum will pick up the baton. I can’t believe this shit weather.  
_

Benedict walked over to the fireplace and stared into the crackling red, orange and yellow flames.  He then shifted his gaze to the mantel and studied the colourful painting of a rabbit that sat on it.

_How unlike Donna to have a painting of a bloody rabbit stood on her mantel.  I would have thought for certain that she would have chosen a cow or even something Disney-themed. I’m thinking it must have come with the furnishings, so perhaps it was bought as an investment piece.  I recognize the artist’s name.  This humble painting is worth a goodly amount.  
_

Benedict turned and appraised the room.  _This is such a lovely room, even if Donna didn’t decorate it._   He spied a narrow console table set against the wall near the archway leading to the hallway that had some framed family photos displayed on it. Benedict picked up one that was a group shot of the Saint James family, standing in front of Space Ship Earth in Epcot.  Everyone was dressed in some type of Disney-themed clothing, whether it be a baseball cap or t-shirt.  Kenny and Scarlett’s young twin daughters, Melanie and Melissa, wore matching Disney Princess outfits. Their son, Charles, was dressed as a pirate. Antonia wore shorts and a Minnie Mouse t-shirt and carried a Disney-themed handbag. Donna had on black cotton dress with Mickey on it. 

_Blimey! This must be Walt Disney World couture at its finest,_ Benedict chuckled to himself.  _Well, I guess when in Rome…_

Even Colin and Neil were wearing Disney-themed t-shirts. Neil’s depicted the evil Scar from the Lion King, whilst Colin’s boasted Tigger from Winnie-the-Pooh.

_How apropos that the motherfucker is wearing a villain t-shirt. I couldn’t have picked a better one  for him myself._

Benedict’s eyes continued to roam over the photograph and came to rest on Carly and Steve, who were in the foreground.  They were holding their hands out and somehow Tinkerbell had been transposed to look as if she were standing in their cupped hands.

_Ah, this must be one of the special park-processed photos Steve was going on about one night.  I’ll have to admit it is very clever._

Carly and Steve were dressed in coordinated wedding t-shirts.  Hers was bright pink with 'Bride' and Cinderella's castle stenciled on it and Steve’s was black with 'Groom' and the castle stenciled on it. They were both also wearing bride and groom mouse ears on their heads and wedding rings on their fingers.

_Oh, so this was obviously taken after Carly and Steve’s wedding at Disney World.  I guess it was the day after the wedding.  Hmm…I could swear that Steve also mentioned that they honeymooned there as well – with the whole bloody family, his and hers.  Jesus Christ, he’s crackers to have subjected himself to that.  Shame on you, Benedict, for poking fun at something they obviously find enjoyable.  No one held a gun to his head.  He wanted to be married and honeymoon there._

All of a sudden everything became crystal clear to Benedict, as he suddenly envisioned himself and Donna in place of Carly and Steve in the photograph.

“Fuck me,” muttered Benedict Cumberbatch aloud.  “I think I know what it is…Donna fancies a Disney wedding.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. When Donna talks about mingling at the buffet, she means that people are free to get up and down whenever they choose. It gives them a chance to chat with their guests while at the buffet or on the way back to their seats.
> 
> 2\. Mario Batali is an American celebrity chef, who specialize in Italian food; and has several restaurants in New York City. 
> 
> 3\. Since I'm not a lawyer, the story of how Donna and Carly came to own the brownstone is purely fictional.
> 
> 4\. The timeline for Benedict's schedule is partly based on fact and the rest fiction to fit the timeline of this universe.
> 
> 5\. Yes, I always brought home my Disney World unused toiletries, but never the toilet tissue - which sadly they no longer put in the rooms. Now, they have different ones than the ones in the photo I used.
> 
> 6\. I want to have some friction between Benedict and Donna over the next couple of chapters when it comes to making their wedding plans because real life doesn't always run smoothly. They each harbor their own dreams and expectations and find out that each had a very different idea as to what the pefect wedding should be.


	132. Chapter 132

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Benedict and Donna share their dream wedding ideas with each other and come to an agreement that surprises both of them. 
> 
> Note: I’ll be using ********* for things happening at the same time.

 

Benedict Cumberbatch entered the kitchen to find Donna Saint James pouring whole milk into a small saucepan.  There were two cow mugs set out on the counter top alongside a brown tin, a measuring spoon, a whisk, a bar of chocolate and a small hand-held grater. _  
_

_Look how everything is so precisely lined up on her work top in the order that she’s going to use it. It reminds me of when surgical tools are laid out. I do admire how methodical Donna is, bless her.  
_

“So, is the mug with the long auburn-haired cow supposed to represent me and the black and white one you?”  Benedict snickered, as he picked up one of the mugs and turned it over to inspect the bottom.  _Just as I thought, they actually are from the potter in Borough Market.  Donna wasn’t kidding._

“How did you know?”

“I am going to be playing Sherlock Holmes; so I need to practice my deduction skills whenever possible.  Now seemed like an auspicious time.”

“Don’t you have writers whose job it is to write the deductions so all you have to do is deliver them convincingly?” 

“Yeah, but I can’t help from trying to submerge myself into what doing an actual deduction would be like for Sherlock, so I try at every opportunity.”

“Is this what they call 'Method Acting'?"

"Fuck no.  It's called I'm trying to amuse myself whilst you make us hot chocolate."

"Well, you did an excellent job with deducing which mug was meant for you.”

“Actually, it was quite simple.”

“I sure as hell would hope so!  Especially, since there were only two,” snorted Donna. "The next time you feel like playing detective, give me some notice; and I'll put all my cow mugs out on the counter."

“Stop being such a cheeky twat!  I was trying to be serious.”

Donna stopped smiling and gave him her best deadpan face.  “Okay.  Seduce me, Mr. Holmes – I mean deduce me.”

“I’ll deduce now and be thrilled to seduce you later,” Benedict said giving her a lewd smile.  “You see, all the cows in your…collection... are black and white – thus, you would naturally take the black and white mug for yourself as they are obviously your favourite…leaving me with the auburn haired one.”

“That’s very impressive.”

“You’re taking the piss, Miss Saint James.”

Donna made a half-hearted attempt not to laugh. “Right again, Mr. Holmes.”

Benedict playfully swatted her on the bottom and pulled her into a tight embrace.  “Do you have any idea just how your cheek affects me?” he purred into her ear. “I love it when you’re saucy like this.”

Donna stood on her tip toes and pressed her hips up against his.  “Hmmm…Yes…and I can deduce just from leaning up against you that you’re getting horny or is that your cellphone I feel.”

“It’s my mobile, but I’ll give you points for a half-decent guess.  That's the second time you've mistaken my mobile for a boner. However, should you keep grinding up against me like that, you'll definitely be feeling much more than just my mobile.”

Donna pulled away and put the pan on the stove to warm.  “Want to be my sous chef?”

“Always.  What can I do to help?”

“Can you please put the milk away and hand me that brown tin?”

Benedict opened the refrigerator and placed the milk back inside.  “Are we ever going to eat this slice of birthday cake before it spoils?”

“Is that a hint?”

“Yeah.  I’m feeling a bit peckish.  I didn’t realize wedding planning would give me an appetite.”

“You also know I’ll never turn down chocolate cake.”

Benedict busied himself with plating the cake while Donna checked the temperature of the milk.  “Oh, Sous Chef!  You’re needed with the chocolate tout suite.”

Benedict read the tin as he pried the lid off, “Williams and Sonoma Hot Chocolate…bittersweet chocolate shavings.”

“They make the best hot chocolate in the world as far as I’m concerned,” declared Donna.  “Take a whiff.”

“It does smell heavenly.”

“Inside the third cabinet on the left, you’ll find a box of marshmallows, which I’m going to float on top of the hot chocolate.  This will be better than sex."

Benedict snorted as he retrieved the box.  “Somehow I sincerely doubt that.”

Donna laughed.  “You can be the judge after you’ve tasted it. These aren’t just any old marshmallows, my dear.  These are hand-crafted vanilla marshmallows. If you’re feeling wanton, you can even add a shot of Godiva chocolate liqueur.  I’ve got a bottle in the top cabinet on the right.”

“Sounds like an enticing addition,” said Benedict.  “However, I’m going to pass.  I’d like to taste it as is. So, how about telling me what your fantasy wedding is?”

“Promise me you won't laugh.”

Benedict made a cross over his heart.  “I swear on all that is holy not to laugh nor even giggle.”

“I’m serious, Benedict.”

“So was I.  Hell, everyone is entitled to their dreams and fantasies.   I would never laugh at you, Darling.  That would be disrespectful of me.  I’ve shared many of mine with you, and you’ve never laughed once.”

“That’s because they were all sexual in nature and very arousing.  We even acted on some of them because they were so damn hot.”

“Ah…yes…I particularly enjoyed the one where we pretended to be strangers on a train,” He said smiling fondly at the memory.

“I would never laugh at any of your dreams or fantasies either, Benedict.  Like you said – it wouldn’t be right.  Can you please measure out five tablespoons of the chocolate and put it in the milk while I whisk it smooth?” 

“Now, while I'm doing that,  tell me out of all the places in the world, where have you fancied getting married?”

_I might as well tell him.  It's certainly not a secret.  Everyone who knows me knows that my dream is to have a Disney wedding._

“Okay.  I’ve always imagined that I would have a destination wedding at Walt Disney World in Florida.”

Benedict began to measure and add the grated chocolate to the milk.  _And the drippy actor wins the prize for best guess as to where his fiancée wishes to be married._   _I don't even know what possessed me to ask that question when the answer was so glaringly obvious._

Donna was whisking the milk as if her life depended on it.  _Why am I so nervous now that I've said it?  He's not saying anything, which is unlike Benedict.  He always has some kind of comment.  Oh, oh.  I bet he's waiting for me to elaborate further._

"I'm sure there's more to it than that, Donna."

"What more do you want to know?"

"Everything.  I want to hear the entire fantasy," replied Benedict encouragingly.  "I promise not to laugh or pass judgment.  I'm just going to listen."

_Benedict wants to know everything. It's actually nice that he's taking such an interest in hearing about my dream wedding. I'll tell him every last detail and then give him equal time to share his thoughts with me.  
_

“Okay. My fiancé and I would fly down a couple of days before hand and stay at the Grand Floridian hotel, which is their flagship resort.  Instead of a bachelorette party, my female guests and I would have an afternoon tea at the Garden View Lounge, while the guys play golf instead of having a bachelor party.  The Magnolia Course’s sixth hole is shaped like Mickey’s head.  They call it the mouse trap – get it?  Hahaha!  It’s so cute!  Then afterwards, the guys have lunch at the Grand Floridian Café before we all meet up.”

_She’s talking about the ushers playing a couple of rounds of Mickey golf and having lunch instead of a stag night? And her father will assuredly be amongst the group. I wonder if this café has a bar?_

Benedict winced slightly and rubbed the back of his neck. “Erm…I don’t play golf, Donna.”

Donna stopped whisking. “Oh, that’s right.  Don’t your friends play?”

“Yeah…most of them do, as do Dad and Derrick; but I never took it up.”

“Then why don’t you?”

“Because I’ve always been too busy and never had the inclination to learn. I did warn you that actors can have very anti-social schedules when gainfully employed.”

Donna considered his response for a minute, then her face brightened as an idea came to her.  “Hmm…you do play miniature golf?”

Benedict nodded and frowned slightly at her.  “Yeah, we played with Adam and Alice over the summer at that indoor course, remember?  Alice and I each won a game, and we would have played a third had you not whacked that chap in the head on that one hole.” Benedict covered his mouth in order to stifle a laugh.

Donna’s face reddened as she outwardly cringed at the memory.  _I was trying to forget that night._    “That guy was standing on top of us.  He needed to give me more room to swing,” she said defensively.

“Mini golf involves putting, not the overly-enthusiastic swinging that you were doing, Love.  It’s a right good thing that Alice and Adam thought to duck and move out of the way.”

“How did I know I was going to accidentally hit the ball so it went backwards?”

“Not that poor sod surely,” quipped Benedict.

“Anyway, I’ve got the perfect solution, which everyone will love. There are two miniature golf courses at Disney:  Winter Summerland and Fantasia Gardens.  The Fantasia-themed one is my personal favorite.”

_Bloody hell!  Did she say Fantasia-themed mini golf? My friends will be taking the piss out on me for the rest of my life, should she propose such a daft thing.  They’re all avid golfers except for James and me.  
_

“I know you would just love it, Ben!  We always play both courses whenever we go down there.  My dad beats everyone.  I warn you that he’s very competitive.”

“Is he _really_?  I never would have thought that about him.”

“I’m detecting a note of sarcasm in your voice, Benedict.”

“No, you detect a whole symphony of sarcasm, Sweetheart.”

_I really get the feeling I’m going to have to ask Dad or Adam to give me golf lessons in order to fit in with my future in-laws. Adam’s been after me for an age now to learn. He refers to it as the ultimate male-bonding experience or some other sort of shit._

“So, this golf outing is in lieu of a stag night yes?” 

“Yep!  Doesn’t it sound like fun?”

“Loads,” Benedict replied in a monotone, as he rinsed the mugs with hot water in order to warm them.  

_Fuck no!  I want a proper Stag Night!  I want to do a bloody pub crawl or go around to a club like all my friends did before they married.  I don’t want to play mini golf and drink soda for fucks sake!  I want to drink beer and do shots until I’m good and thoroughly pissed, sing God-awful karaoke and dance the night away - maybe even take in a burlesque show and end the night with a spliff back at Adam’s, followed by one of Alice’s spectacular fry-ups.  I want one last wild night out with my mates before I settle down - not some tame afternoon that will subject me to unending ridicule.  
_

“The next day would be devoted to spa treatments and last minute arrangements…”

_Spa treatments sound nice and soothing…I wouldn’t be ad versed to a couples massage.  I'd even be up for a facial, manicure and pedicure.  Real men do indulge themselves for their weddings. Mark even had a professional shave for his wedding._

“… followed by the rehearsal and rehearsal dinner at Le Cellier in the Canadian Pavilion in Epcot.  That’s my favorite restaurant in Epcot."

"You fancy Canadian food then?"

"Yes!  For starters, the bread basket is excellent:  sour dough, multi-grain and pretzel baguettes served with salted butter.  My favorite appetizer is the cheddar cheese soup made with Moose head beer and topped with crumbled apple-wood smoked bacon that is to die for.  My favorite entree is the porcini mushroom dust-crusted filet Mignon, served with a wild mushroom risotto and white truffle butter sauce.  Dessert must be the maple crème brulee.  That is probably my favorite meal is all of Disney World."

_That actually sounds delicious.  My mouth is starting to water._

"The evening would be capped off by a private Dessert Party and Illuminations Fireworks viewing.  It would be on that little island off the French pavilion.”

_I’m knackered just listening to her prattle on about all this.  When in the hell do we rest by the pool?  They must have pools. I also feel as if I’m listening to a sales pitch rather than a simple recounting of her dream wedding._

Donna carefully poured the hot chocolate into the mugs and Benedict floated a large, puffy marshmallow on the surface.  Donna then grated some chocolate over the top. 

“Voila!  Donna’s Special Hot Chocolate!” she said proudly.

Benedict raised his mug to her.  “To fantasies.”

“Yes, to fantasies!”

“Cheers,” they said in unison, as they touched mugs and took a first sip.

“Oh, this is divine!” Sighed Donna.

“Is divine better than yummy?”

“It’s on a par with yummy.”

Benedict smacked his lips. “Ah, this really is lovely; but it’s not an adequate substitute for sex I’m afraid.”

“It was more of a euphemism than a proclamation, Honey. How about we drink it by the fire, and I’ll continue telling you about my dream wedding,” Donna suggested, leading the way back to the living room.

_I’m afraid to hear more_ , thought Benedict.  _Lord knows what the rest of it is going to entail._

Once they were comfortably settled on the couch, Donna continued describing her dream wedding:

“Ever since they built it, I’ve always dreamed of being married in the Grand Floridian Hotel’s wedding pavilion.  It’s this beautiful chapel-like building built on a small island, jutting off the beach…”

_Brilliant!  There’s a beach.  I remember there were little power boats that Dad and I rented to go around the lake.  
_

“Are those little speed boats still there?  The ones you can rent and have a go around the lake in?”

Donna nodded enthusiastically.  “Yes, the water sprites are still there!  We rent them all the time at the Polynesian Resort.”

_That’s good to hear._

"We can make sure to rent them one day."

_When are we going to manage to squeeze that in I wonder?  This schedule is packed pretty tight as is. I'm knackered just listening to all these plans - dreams.  
_

“We also rent a pontoon boat so the whole family can go fishing together one morning.”

_Bloody hell!  They fish, too.  I’m sure she’ll be telling me in the next breath that Neil is an expert fisherman as well._

“Dad usually catches the most fish.”

_Of course he does._

“Is there anything that man can’t do?”

“I sense a return of the sarcasm.”

“Your senses are amazingly accurate today.  You might as well know that I don’t fish either…well I’m not an accomplished one anyway…like your dad is apparently.”

“We don’t have to go fishing.  There's the Richard Petty Driving Experience.  You can drive a real race car around a track.”

"Now that is something I'd definitely be interested in having a go at!"

_She’s definitely doing the sales pitch.  There is no doubt about it, and the thought of me driving a race car is very tempting indeed._

"I'm sure we can arrange for you to do that. Heck, I'll even go with you and try it out, too!"

_So far this is the first thing to truly capture my interest, besides the descriptions of the tasty-sounding food._

“As you were, then.  You were talking about the chapel.” _  
_

“Okay. Well, inside you have a clear view out the windows straight across the Seven Seas Lagoon to the Magic Kingdom.  You can see Cinderella’s castle in the background from the altar.”

“It sounds lovely.”

“Oh it is!” sighed Donna dreamily.  “And after the ceremony, my husband and I would take photos in the Magic Kingdom with the bridal party and our immediate family.  Then we would join our guests at the Contemporary Hotel where their ballroom would be transformed into Agrabah.  There would be the face characters, dressed as Jafar and the Genie.  They could rig it to have the magic carpet flying around.  The food would be themed and…”

Benedict regarded her with a blank expression.  “Forgive me for not being caught up on my Disney trivia; but just why would you pick Agrabah?”

Donna looked at him in disbelief. “Aladdin and Jasmine lived in city of Agrabah.”

_How could Benedict not know that?  He's old enough to have seen Aladdin for God's sake!_

_And I can see the disapproval in Donna's eyes. I’ve just failed Disney Trivia 101.  Shame on me._

“Yes, so they did.  You'll have to indulge me as I was only sixteen when I saw it, so my memory is a bit fuzzy on the finer details for which I'm truly ashamed."

"Forever the wiseass, Benedict.  Not one of your better qualities."

"I just meant that I'm not up on my Disney trivia like you are. No offense was intended.  It just never fails to amaze me how you can call up the most minute details when it comes to anything involving Disney."

Donna cast a skeptical glance at him as if she didn't truly believe him.

"Yeah, so...Agrabah…so you’re dream wedding is an Aladdin-themed one, yes?”  Benedict asked hesitantly.

_Oh, Donna, why did you tell him that?  He looks scared now.  Why did it sound so damn preposterous once the words came tumbling out of my mouth?  At least I didn’t say anything about us changing into Aladdin and Jasmine costumes for the reception._

Donna blushed as she stammered.  “Um...well...yeah…it's one of them..."

_For fucks sake - there are more than one version?_

"The Aladdin one is the more recent fantasy of the two."

_So, there are two fantasy weddings.  Let me hear her out first before offering any comment or opinion._

Donna sat quietly as she looked down into her mug. She looked up at Benedict with an embarrassed expression.

"Gosh, it sounds a little silly now that I’ve said it out loud, doesn't it?”

_And that is a fine and splendid example of a loaded question.  A little silly? It actually sounds terrifying as fuck. Next, she’ll be telling me she fancies that we actually dress up as Aladdin and Jasmine._

“No, it doesn’t. Not at all.  It's certainly a novel idea for a themed-wedding breakfast, and one I've never heard of.”

_Oh, how I lie; but the last thing I want is to hurt her feelings.  She can’t help what her dreams are any more than I can help mine.  
_

Donna sipped some of her hot chocolate and smacked her lips in satisfaction.  "This is even better than I remember.  I have to pack a couple of cans to bring back to London."

“Is that it then?” Benedict inquired carefully. 

Donna studied her mug as if trying to make up her mind about something before meeting his gaze.  She had a very guilty expression on her face.  “Ummm…not quite,” she said hesitantly.

“Go on then,” Benedict said encouragingly. “Please finish telling me.”

_We might as get this all out in the open._

Donna suddenly barked out a nervous laugh. “This part is really wild but…I was imaging that we’d change out of our wedding clothes at the reception.”

“Into what???”

“Well, I thought everyone could actually.  You and I could dress as Aladdin and Jasmine did at their wedding.”

_For fucks sake.  I could always get a job as a psychic should the acting opportunities dry up.  Though it might be worth it just to see Neil dressed as Jafar and Antonia dressed as Cruella de Ville.  I couldn’t think of better costumes for the wankers...wait a minute...she said something about having someone there to play the part of Jafar.  I'm sure we could come up with another villain for Neil with no trouble at all.  Maybe he could be Scar from the Lion King._

Benedict took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  “You’re entitled to your dreams, Darling; and I did ask to hear you voice them.”

_However, I never would have guessed in a million years that it would reach this level of frivolity._

_I notice that he’s not saying:  Brilliant idea, Darling!  Let's go for it!_

_There's no fucking way in hell that I am going to be part of such a ridiculous extravaganza...but it's what will make her happy. Is there something we could compromise on?_

_I never should have said anything about bringing Agrabah to life. He must think I'm nuts.  It does sound pretty wacky the more I think about it._

"Donna, you made mention of having two fantasy wedding scenarios.  Why don't you share the other with me as well," prodded Benedict gently.

_I need to tell him my original dream reception, which sounds much more normal.  I hate that pinched look on his face and they way he's clenching his jaw._

Donna laughed nervously. “The other reception scenario is much more traditional. I always imagined a reception in the California Grill, which is the restaurant on the top floor of the Contemporary Hotel.”

“The one the monorail goes through yes?”

“Yep.  Depending on the number of guests, we could have the whole restaurant to ourselves.  The cocktail hour would be spread out between the two open air decks that have a view of the Magic Kingdom and inside in their bar area.  The dinner would be in the main dining room, which has floor to ceiling windows.  I'm sure there is also room for them to set up a small dance floor."

_This scenario is perfectly normal.  It's certainly not my first choice, I could make do with this one if push comes to shove._

"After dinner, we’d be able to watch the Wishes Fireworks show at the Magic Kingdom either from the outdoor decks or from the windows.  They pipe in the music and everything!  It's just sooo magical up there, Ben."

_These people really do love their fireworks, bless them,_   Thought Benedict. 

“Then comes the piece de resistance!” exclaimed Donna, eyes sparkling with excitement. "As if things can't get any better."

_Bloody hell, there's more?_   _OH...perhaps...I think I know._

“We go on honeymoon straight away?” Benedict asked hopefully, taking a sip of his beverage.

“Not quite.”

“So, we spend the night there and leave for honeymoon the next day?”

“Nope!  Something better than sleeping!”

“Ah, hot sex with my beautiful wife…”

“Stop teasing me, Benedict!”

_Oh, I’m not teasing you at all.  Really, I’m not._ _I find the thought of married sex incredibly arousing._

“We go downstairs and board special buses that will take us and our guests over to the Disney MGM Studios for their late night showing of Fantasmic!"

"What exactly is Fantasmic, pray tell?"

Donna literally bounced up and down on the couch as she ticked off all the features of the show on her fingers for Benedict.

"It’s a nighttime show that features fireworks, live actors, water effects, pyrotechnics, lasers, music, audio-animatronics, decorated boat floats, and mist screen projections. Fireworks shoot from Sorcerer Mickey's hands, Ben!  It's the most freaking amazing thing you've ever seen!”

_Bollocks!  More motherfucking fireworks!_

“Then after that…”

_We go to the hotel and tumble into bed, where we will remain unconscious for the next three days because we’ll be so bloody knackered after that nutters schedule!  Christ on a crutch!  What is this woman thinking??  
_

“Afterwards is when the _real_ fun starts!” continued Donna.

_Finally!  Hopefully, I’ll even be able to get a boner and maintain it after all that running around._

Benedict gave her a devilish smile and winked at her.  “Now, we’re getting down to the paramount thing: Consummating our marriage, which will undoubtedly be _my_ favourite part!”

_You’re always thinking with your knob, Benedict.  Shame on you.  Oh, but I do…I do think with it. I can’t seem to help myself.  I desire her so fucking much all the time, how can I not?  
_

Donna smiled back at him and batted her eyelashes.  “I’m sure it will be _mine_ as well, Ben Honey.”

“Where do you envision the wedding night to be?”

“Our wedding night would be in a suite at the Animal Kingdom Lodge, which is my favorite Disney hotel.  We’d have a savannah view of course…”

_I could swear I heard Tracy telling Mum about that hotel.  If it’s the same one Donna’s thinking of, it sounds like something that would be right up my street._

“…so we could watch the animals from our balcony.  I’d definitely want a room overlooking the Giraffe Trail, because there is nothing better than getting up in the morning and watching all the animals grazing on the savannah...they have zebras, giraffes, ostriches, long-horned cattle and plenty of other animals.”

_That’s the place!  Well now, that actually does sounds rather intriguing.  This part of the scenario also sounds plausible, and one that I would find most enjoyable.  
_

“Then the next morning we get up and everyone meets downstairs for Boma’s buffet breakfast before heading to the Magic Kingdom in time for rope drop!”

_Did she say rope drop?  That's when the motherfucking park opens for the day.  If I recall, it's also very early in the morning.  My wife will be going alone.  
_

“Your dream honeymoon involves going to a theme park the day after your wedding?”

“Of course!  I told you the real fun would start once the wedding was over!”

“What about going on honeymoon?” inquired Benedict, a bit peevishly. "Surely you don't intend to spend our first several days of married life going on rides."

_And I knew the minute those words left my mouth, that that was exactly what she had in mind._  

Donna giggled.  “We don’t go anywhere, Ben Honey.  When you have a wedding at Disney, they give you free theme park tickets; so that’s where we’ll spend our honeymoon!  Why would we want to go anywhere else?"

Benedict frowned and set his lips in a thin line.  "Oh, I can think of several responses to your question off hand." 

_And not one of them involves cavorting around a bloody theme park!_

"Your entertainment is all inclusive - the rides, the live shows," Donna explained.  "There are a couple of nightspots, though not many.  We need to turn in early, so we can get up early to take advantage of extra magic hours."

_No we don't.  This honeymoon would be the death of me._

"What exactly are extra magic hours?"

"As a resort guest, you're entitled to have three hours in the parks before they open to the public..."

_You're entitled, Darling. I'll be found sleeping in our bed._

"...and you get to stay three extra hours after the parks close."

_NOOOOOOO._

"Each park has it's own schedule - for example, The Magic Kingdom has extra morning hours on Sundays, Tuesdays and Fridays."

_I can't believe how Donna can be sat here and rattle all that off.  She knows it all, bless her.  She's also completely daft._

"The best part is that the guests usually schedule their vacation time around a destination wedding like this; so everyone can do things together.  I know my parents and family will definitely stay.”

Benedict regarded her with raised eyebrows over the rim of his mug.

_Bollocks! This is worse than I could ever conjure up in my imagination, and I pride myself on having quite a vivid one. This is utterly terrifying beyond comprehension.  Going on honeymoon with our families in tow?  I can’t even fathom that!  I’m sure Mum and Tracy would welcome the idea of combining my wedding along with a holiday.  An extended family honeymoon in a theme park?  No bloody motherfucking way in hell will this happen.  I’m glad Donna keeps emphasizing that it’s a dream, because that’s all it’s ever going to be.  One, big, colossal pipe dream.  
_

“I notice you haven’t mentioned when pool time has been built into this holiday, Donna.”

Donna reached out and ruffled his auburn curls.  “Forget the pool!  There are two amazing water parks:  Typhoon Lagoon, which has a wave pool that you can actually surf in; and Blizzard Beach, which has the best damn water slides around!  I just know you’ll love those!”

_Okay.  Those I just might fancy having a go at.  However, I adore just sitting poolside after a swim with a good book and fruity cocktail that comes with one of those tacky little umbrellas.  
_

“They both have lazy rivers where you can sit in an inner tube and float around the water park on this man-made river, which has a very gentle current to move you along.”

“Ah, now _that_ sounds lovely!”

“It’s boring!  You haven't lived until you've ridden Summit Plummet!  it's a near vertical water slide with a twelve-story drop!"

_That sounds like something I'd definitely fancy, but I'm sure I wouldn't be up to it straight away.  Does Donna really think she's going to have all that energy after the wedding?_

"Why would you want to just lie in an inner tube and float around when you’ve got all these exciting water rides to go on, Benedict?”

“Erm…let’s see…because I’ll be knackered from all the running about and having fun. Out of curiosity, when _are_ we allowed to sleep and get some rest, Darling?”

Donna regarded him as if he had grown two heads.  “We can catch up on our sleep on the plane or when we get home!  You don’t go to Walt Disney World to rest, Benedict!”

_Apparently not. Silly me for even daring to suggest that we might take time out for ourselves and relax.  Donna’s idea of a holiday is to run us ragged until we’re ready to drop. My parents could never keep up that pace at their age._

“You go to have fun – the rides, the shows, the water parks, the delicious treats that you can’t get anywhere else – like Tonga Toast, Dole Whips and Goofy Bars!  Just think of the possibilities!”

_I am thinking of the possibilities, and not one of them involves having our wedding at a theme park with Mickey Mouse serving as an usher.  I’m going to have to try talking her around if she’s really going to push for this.  This is bloody insane!  
_

“This certainly sounds like a very active holiday, which requires quite a bit of stamina," Benedict said carefully.

"Oh, it is!  It's the most fun you'll ever have in your life!"

_Somehow, I seriously doubt that._

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck before smiling and crinkling his nose at her.  "Erm...exactly when do we take time to stop and smell the roses, Sweetheart?”

Donna thought for a moment as she got up to retrieve a throw off one of chairs and covered them with it.   She snuggled beside Benedict and rested her head on his shoulder.

“There’s a beautiful rose garden in Epcot between Future World and World Showcase.  It’s called the Rose Walk.”

_For fucks sake. That's not at all what I meant!!!  I’ll need another holiday just to recover from this one!  Her dream is my nightmare._

“Now, it’s your turn to tell me what your dream wedding is, Benedict.” _  
_

_She’s going to think:  how utterly boring. I know she’s not going to be on board with my two scenario._

“Well, mine is going to seem rather mundane when compared to yours,” he chuckled. “It’s hardly worth mentioning.”

_I almost referred to it as an extravaganza. Phew!  My mouth filter must be working after all. I have to say that I’ve never heard anyone speak with such passion on a topic as she just did.  
_

“Please tell me!  I really want to hear your idea of a dream wedding.  I know you’ve got one,” Donna said cajolingly, as she kissed him on the cheek.

Benedict took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  “It’s quite simple, really. In the days leading up to the actual wedding, I’d have a stag night hosted by my best man and ushers.  We’d go to dinner at a nice restaurant and afterwards we’d either do a pub crawl or go to a club for karaoke and dancing.  There would be plenty of drinking as well, and I’d indulge myself with a fine Cuban cigar.  My fiancée would have a Hen Night, which would be something similar along those lines.”

_Hmmm…Carly had a wild bachelorette party here in New York with all her friends before we went down to Disney for her wedding. All I remember are dancing, jello shots and a male stripper. I think I was the only one who remained sober. My sister was so drunk, she couldn’t stand up.  I like the idea of having an afternoon tea at the Garden View Lounge much better.  
_

“And before you ask, it’s not the norm for us to have a rehearsal dinner.  We have a wedding rehearsal the day prior to the wedding, but no special dinner is planned afterwards unless we choose to.”

_No rehearsal dinner??? Jeez Louise.  I never even considered that there would be cultural differences. I automatically assumed the English did things the same way we did.  Grandpa Colin never said anything about those things when Kenny and Carly got married.  Then they both got married at Disney World…and they both married Americans.  That’s why he never said anything.  Boy, have I got a lot to learn._

Benedict leaned his head back and shut his eyes while he continued speaking.   His voice had a silky, dreamy quality to it that warmed Donna’s heart and made her smile, as he took her hand in his and squeezed it.

“I’ve always fancied being married in Saint Paul’s Cathedral, which is such an extraordinarily beautiful church.  The ceremony would be followed by a lavish wedding breakfast in Kensington Palace’s Orangery.  After the feast, there would be a night do with a DJ or live band and dancing.  We would be surrounded by all our families, friends and acquaintances. Then we’d spend our wedding night in a sumptuous suite at the Savoy, which is one of London’s finest hotels. Our suite would have spectacular views of the London Eye all the way to Parliament and Big Ben.  We would sit on the couch and toast our marriage with the finest champagne and feed each other delectable chocolate-covered strawberries. Then I would take you in my arms and slow dance, pausing only to plant the tenderest kisses on your lovely lips and neck, as we listen to our wedding song on their superlative sound system.”

_Oh my God, this man is such a romantic._

“The bathroom would already be prepped with flickering lavendar and vanilla-scented candles and a hot bath would have been drawn for us in the sunken marble tub, which would be filled with delightful lavender and vanilla-scented bubbles to carry over that relaxing aroma.  We would be able to gaze out the window at that amazing view of London at night and bask in the warmth whilst reliving our special day and sipping more champagne.”

_The man sure does love his champagne. I'd be worried we'd get drowsy and drown.  However, I wouldn’t mind taking a bath with him now._

“After that, we would take turns drying each other off with pre-warmed, soft, fluffy towels and wrap ourselves up in the ultra-plush robes and slippers left out for us.  Then we would retire to the bedroom, which would have a huge bed that had been sprinkled with rose petals.  We would take turns massaging lavender-scented body oil on each other.  I would be lying face down, and you would straddle me whilst massaging my upper back and shoulders.  We would both be completely naked, and I would be able to feel the urgency of your succulent… hot... wet…pulsing cunt pressing against my skin as I begin to get stiff.”

_And that is why my honey is such a fan of back massages.  They never fail to arouse both of us in record time. Just putting my hands on him makes me so fucking horny.  He’s completely erect within five minutes and chomping at the bit to get busy._

“Once we were both aroused to the fullest, I would first make the most passionate love imaginable to you for the first time as your husband as we consummate our marriage in the most ardent fashion.  We would continue to bestow the most loving and sensual delights upon each other until we our carnal appetites are completely satiated, and we are only left with the strength to cuddle in each other’s arms and fall into the most blissful sleep imaginable.”

_Gosh, it’s getting hot in here…that voice of his is so damn seductive.  I can imagine it…I can imagine every bit of it from drinking the champagne and munching on chocolate-covered berries to the sex he just described…I want to jump his bones right here on the couch.  
_

Benedict opened his ice-blue eyes and gazed longingly into hers. Donna could see that his pupils appeared to be slightly dilated, as he ran the tip of his tongue over his lips. His face was also slightly flushed, and his breathing seemed slightly labored.

_I could drown in those eyes of his.  They are so beautiful.  It’s like looking into his soul. He’s getting as aroused from his wedding night description as I am.  It wouldn’t take much coaxing to get him into bed. I bet if I were to reach down under this throw, I'd find the beginning of an erection.  
_

Donna gulped.  “That’s some erotic-sounding wedding night, Ben Honey.”

Benedict crinkled his nose at her and gave her that dimpled, lop-sided smile.

“It was meant to be, Darling.  After all, that’s my idea of a dream wedding night.”

"If they ever did an audio book on the adventures of Casanova, you'd be perfect."

Benedict's face reddened considerably as he looked at her shyly.  "Erm...there is one.  I recorded it in 2006."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"You never made mention of it.  I've got a copy back in my flat if you fancy borrowing it."

"I'd love to hear it.  Sorry to get off track.  What’s your idea of the perfect honeymoon?”

“The next day we would wake to freshly-squeezed orange juice and French-press coffee served in bed by the butler, who comes with the room.”

“I’m not a coffee-drinker.”

“This is a _generic_ fantasy, Love.  However, since it’s you who’s going to be my wife, tea would automatically be included for you,” he chuckled.  “English Breakfast, sans caffeine.”

“No breakfast?”

“I’m getting to that.  Again, being it’s you; I’d make sure to have a basket of  freshly-baked mini pastries and muffins delivered along with the coffee _and_ tea so you don’t become cranky.”

“Cranky?”

“You tend to be cranky if you’re not fed immediately upon rising.”

“That wasn’t the nicest thing you’ve ever said about me,” scoffed Donna.

“How about I change that to:  in case one of us is feeling peckish then?”

“Better.  Continue with your fantasy please.”

“So, we would spend some time having a read of the paper along with our snack, followed by some cuddling and perhaps even wake up sex…”

Donna smiled flirtatiously at him.  “You often wake up with a hard-on; so I think we’d want to take advantage of that before having our morning snack.”

Benedict gave her a sly smile in return.  “Yes, you’re absolutely right!  Your motto should be:  Never allow morning wood to go to waste. I bet they never used that motto in the Girl Scouts,” he snickered.

“Hell no!” Donna giggled.  “Can you imagine if they offered a sex badge?”

“Yes, and you would have earned it many times over if it were up to me.  I’ve never been more satisfied in bed than I am with you.”

“Me, too.  All this wedding night talk is making me horny.”

“I'm feeling randy as well...and stiff.  I’ll be happy to take the edge off once we’re done, if you don't mind reciprocating.”

_I knew he was getting hard._

“You can count on being reciprocated.  Good gravy! There must be something wrong with us, Ben.  We always have sex on our minds.”

“And your point is? We love and desire the fuck out of each other; so wanting to have sex to express that love and satisfy our primal urges is perfectly natural.  I find nothing wrong with that.  I think we share a very healthy sex drive, which is a good thing.”

Donna nodded.  “I suppose you’re right.  I was reading in Cosmo that we’re above average when it comes to frequency of sex.”

“Brilliant,” smiled Benedict.  “I never would have guessed that.”

“Stop teasing me.”

“You left yourself wide open for that one, Sweetheart.”

“I’d rather leave myself wide open for you.”

Benedict almost choked on his hot chocolate.  “Jesus.  You are a randy girl this afternoon!”

“Okay, so what happens after our post wedding night romp?”

“We enjoy a long, hot shower together – oh, by the way, that’s an alternative to wake up sex – we could have a go at trying to have shower sex…”

“Only if there’s a bench and enough room.”

“Erm…this is the Savoy I’m describing here.  Trust me there will be enough room for a threesome in one of their walk-in showers; plus a nice hand-held shower head for enhanced adult play time.”

Donna giggled. “I’m really warming to your idea of our wedding night at the Savoy.  Please continue.”

“After dressing, we'll have them hail us a cab that will take us to Le Caprice Restaurant to have a lovely, leisurely brunch with our immediate families and closest friends.  They have an amazing brunch.  They even have a gratis bread basket, which I know is right up your street.  Croissants, brioche, pain de sucre, gooey cinnamon rolls, foie gras muffins, banana crunch muffins…”

“Whoa hoa here. Did you say foie gras muffins?”

“Yep.  They’re delectable and melt in your mouth.”

“Ooooo count me in!”

“I’ll make sure to book us a brunch once we get back.”

“That just gave me an idea for a month of brunches to start the New Year!”

“Just remember to give your fiancé proper credit.”

“Don’t I often mention you in my column?”

Benedict smiled at her warmly. “Yes, you do; and I love you for that.”

“I believe we’re up to the honeymoon.”

“Ah, yes!  After brunch, we leave for our tropical honeymoon.  I’ve always envisioned going to either the Seychelles or French Polynesia or even Hawaii.”

_They all sound hot, humid and sweaty, and I don’t mean that in a sexual way. Ugh!  Cheryl and John go to Hawaii all the time and love it there.  Disney may have its share of heat and humidity; but it’s much nicer in December._

“It would definitely have to be somewhere warm and sunny where we would have a secluded, private cottage with windows and French doors that open to the sea, allowing us a breathtaking ocean view.  The beach would be only a few steps away from our love nest.  There would be epic gourmet meals and fine libations to partake of.  I fancy a dinner on the beach one night, with our bare feet in the gentle surf.  We would spend our days relaxing on the beach or in our private pool – swimming and sun bathing sans clothing.”

_Crap.  All he wants to do is sit around the resort.  That sounds incredibly boring.  I’d have to bring along a suitcase full of books and DVDs to amuse myself in between sex. I wouldn't need to pack a lot of clothing either._

“We would also take time to explore the area and participate in whatever interesting activities they have to offer – like boat rides, water skiing, shopping.  This would take place in between long, lazy sessions of the tenderest lovemaking possible.  At night we would seek out the hottest nightspots for dancing, followed by moonlit strolls along the beach or star gazing after a dip in either the ocean or our own private infinity pool.”

_Oh, that sounds much better!  He doesn’t intend to sit around like a lump.  Thank God!  I was getting worried._

“Then we’d relax in bed with a tipple, with the doors and windows open to the elements…”

_And someone can walk right in and attack us.  Okay, I have to admit that’s highly unlikely, but still…_

“… so we could fall asleep in each other’s’ arms whilst the warm, gentle breeze and sound of the ocean lulls us to sleep.”

_Wait.  Is there no air conditioning in Benedict's tropical paradise?  Oh, I must have air conditioning.  What about all the bugs that will come flying in when he leaves all the doors and windows open?  The mosquitoes will have a feast on us – then the only lotion that’s going to get rubbed on him will be of the calamine variety.  Does this man forget how he sometimes gets reactions to insect bites?  Then he'll have to resort to taking Benadryl and that will knock him out. I envision us massaging each other with insect repellent lotion every night before bed – ooooh how romantic is that?  He was traumatized when that fish bit his penis when he was a child vacationing in Greece – how would he like to wake up and find it covered in mosquito bites?_

“And that’s my idea of the ideal wedding and honeymoon scenario,” said Benedict.  “So what do you think?”

_I think you have absolutely zero interest in having our wedding at Disney World._

Donna finished her hot chocolate and set down the mug on the coffee table.

“I think we’re on opposite ends of the spectrum when it comes to envisioning what our wedding and honeymoon should be like.”

"It does appear that way."

"It's funny how two people who have as much in common as we do, can have such differing ideas."

_I should have known that Benedict would want a traditional English wedding.  He’s given me enough clues over the time we’ve been together.  
_

_I should have known that Donna would want the ultimate Disney destination wedding.  She’s given me enough clues now that I think about it.  
_

“You prefer a hometown wedding,” said Donna simply.  “And I prefer a destination wedding.”

_I might as well tell her my other ideal wedding scenario.  Perhaps she'll actually fancy this one...farfetched though it is._

“Oh, before I forget - my other dream involves having a destination wedding at historic Blenheim Palace in Oxfordshire.  Everything from the ceremony to the post-wedding brunch would take place there.  It’s the most extraordinary place you’ve ever seen, Donna."

_A palace?  He wants to get married in a palace?  Whoa hoa here.  I need to hear more._

"Did you say it was an actual palace?  Have you ever attended an event there?"

"Blenheim Place is actually a monumental country house.  It's the principal residence of the Dukes of Marlborough and the only non-royal, non-episcopal country house in England to hold the title of palace.  It's notably the birthplace and ancestral home of Winston Churchill and considered a National Treasure.  One of my cousins on the Cumberbatch side of the family married there, and I couldn’t get the place out of my head ever since."

_It's a freaking National Treasure.  Imagine being married in a National Treasure - not to mention that Churchill was born there. This can't come close to comparing with the man-made Cinderella Castle.  This is the real deal.  It's a piece of English history!_

"Everything was just utterly spectacular in every way you could ever imagine,” continued Benedict with a fond smile.  “The marriage ceremony was held in the orangery, followed by an elaborate drinks reception in the Grand Hallway, which in turn was followed by an epic feast in the Long Library.   There must have been three hundred people, but somehow they managed to create an atmosphere of intimacy. It was so very, very elegant.  There was a harpist at the ceremony and a string quartet played during the drinks reception.  The gardens are magnificent and just perfect for photographs.  I think if I had unlimited funds at my disposal, that is where I would choose to be married.”

_That sounds amazing!_   _My parents would be floored to see me married in such a place!_

“Holy cow!  Can you imagine getting married in such a grand old historical place?” 

"Erm....yeah, I can and do, which is why I'm sharing this ludicrous fantasy with you," Benedict chuckled nervously. "You must think me daft."

"Hell no!  Are you kidding me? It's not at all ludicrous, Benedict. It's a beautiful fantasy! I’d love to see some photographs!  Do you have any?”

“I’m sure I have some stored right here on my laptop,” said Benedict, secretly pleased that Donna seemed interested in the idea of Blenheim Palace.   He took his laptop off the coffee table and began to search for them.

_Don’t get your hopes up, Benedict.  She just asked to see them is all. You know how curious Donna is. I suppose in return I should ask to see photos of one of the Disney extravaganza weddings.  Perhaps I’ll be pleasantly surprised or even more terrified than before._

“Do you have any photos of Carly and Steve’s wedding?”

“Yes! I’ve got plenty of photos from Carly’s wedding.  My parents have the video, which is the whole wedding and reception from start to finish!  We can watch it on Thanksgiving while they’re all watching the college football games.”

_I am truly blessed.  Photos AND a video.  Christ on a crutch.  I just wanted an idea – not the whole fucking day.  I need to adjust my mouth filter.  
_

“Ah!  Here they are, starting with the Bride and her father arriving in the white Rolls Royce,” said Benedict, handing the laptop to her.  “Just scroll to the left and it will give you a flavour for what it was like.”

Donna took her time scrolling through the photos while Benedict watched her face as he tried to judge her reaction.

“Holy cow!  These gardens are gorgeous – look at all those magnificent flowers.  It's the perfect backdrop for photographs!”

_That's two holy cows in less than five minutes.  She's definitely interested._

“Of course, we’re getting married in December; so there would be no flowers...just whatever ornamental shrubbery thrives in colder weather.  Inside, however, you could have whatever flowers you fancy.”

“Oh my God!  Look at that Great Hall!  The floral decorations are magnificent.  And the Long Library – what a lavish tablescape.  That table just goes on and on. It reminds me of the kind of place Henry the Eight would have held a banquet.  Like you said...it's huge; but somehow still has an intimate feel to it.  Maybe all the fireplaces.  Anyway, this place is just amazing!  What a spectacular venue!”

_She seems over the moon with it.  Dare I be encouraged by her unbridled enthusiasm?_

Donna turned to him with a quizzical expression.  “Where are the photos of the food?”

_Of course she would ask about the food, bless her,_ thought Benedict, trying to hide his amusement.

“Well, you have to remember that this was well before I met you; so I hadn’t been properly trained yet in the fine art of photographing one’s meals,” laughed Benedict.  “However, there is one of the cake table.  Yeah, that’s the one.”

“That’s one tall cake!” 

“There were over three hundred people there after all.  They needed quite a lot of cake to feed everyone.”

“What was under all that fondant?”

Benedict barked out a laugh.  “For fucks sake!  That was a few years ago, Donna!  How in the hell am I supposed to remember something so obscure as to what flavour cake they served.  Would _you_ have remembered?”

Donna fixed him with a withering look.

_My honey forgets who he's talking to._  

_Of course she would have, bless her.  Donna would have whipped her camera out and started clicking away as soon as the drinks reception started._

“Beg pardon.  What _was_ I thinking?  You would have preserved the entire meal in photos.”

“Damn right I would have.”

“I just recall the food being extraordinary in every way possible.  Taste, execution and presentation were all a cut above what you’d find at your typical catered event.”

_I can’t believe I’m so excited about this place.  What’s even more amazing is the fact that I can’t believe that I’m actually considering going for it. It has to be the historical landmark factor.  The place is steeped in English history and it’s such a gorgeous and unique venue.  So elegant…so awe-inspiring…Jesus, I’m starting to think like Benedict now. Is that a bad thing?  No, it’s not.  I think I want our wedding to take place at Blenheim Palace._

“We’d have quite a few out of town guests to lodge overnight," remarked Donna. "Do they rent out bedrooms so you can spend the night?”

“Erm…no.  You have to vacate the premises and stay at a hotel in Oxford. Everyone who’s invited will need a room for the night, except those who live in the vicinity – which aren’t many.”

“How far from London is this palace?”

“About an hour and a half’s drive, so it’s not like you can just hop in the car and drive back to London afterwards – especially if one’s been imbibing adult beverages for the duration.  There’s also train and bus service available, not to mention cabs.  We took the train up and there was a motor coach to meet those arriving by train at the station.”

“Hmmm…It’s not the best location for out of town guests – especially those coming in from the US.  They first have to fly into London and then go from there.  We’d need to rent a block of hotel rooms and provide some means of transportation.”

Benedict sighed, "Believe me, Love, it’s more than we can afford.”  Donna noted his voice was heavy with disappointment.

“My father is paying,” said Donna, as she went to the website to look at the price lists.  “Holy shit!  I think this would come out to be more than even a super deluxe Disney wedding after everything gets factored in.”

_These costs not only rival a Disney wedding; but surpass it three times over! I could never ask Daddy to pay for such a lavish affair with a clear conscience.  Carly could and did; but not me…not this me.  What’s changed?_

_Oh well, it was such a lovely dream whilst it lasted.  Back to my Saint Paul’s fantasy, which is also perfectly acceptable if she were to agree.  I wonder if I actually could obtain permission to marry there?_

_Mom and Dad always thought us not to be wasteful with money. Carly wasn't considerate at all when Daddy told her to get whatever she wanted.  She went whole hog.  Maybe the younger Donna would have, but not this one.  I just can't see it.  It's not practical.  It's excessive.  
_

“What a shame,” said Donna sadly.  “Blenheim Palace looked so beautiful, Ben.  Please understand that even though my dad is paying for the wedding, and wouldn’t bat an eyelash at the cost; I could never find it in my heart to ask him to shell out that much.  An expensive wedding like that suddenly seems…unnecessarily excessive and over the top in the grand scheme of things.  A beautiful wedding doesn’t need to cost a king’s ransom, pardon the expression.”

_I like that Donna’s not one to take advantage of the proverbial blank cheque.  That’s a comfort.  The good common sense approach she’s always exhibited when it comes to expenditures is kicking in._

“I thought you fancied a Disney World wedding with all the trimmings.”

_There.  I said it.  It’s out on the table._

She frowned slightly as she placed Benedict’s laptop back on the table.

“Yeah, so did I,” Donna Saint James replied in a small voice. “I always thought that’s the kind of wedding I wanted, but after listening to your dreams; I’m suddenly not so sure.”

“What did I say to give you pause?”

“It’s not any one thing in particular, Benedict.  It’s several things.”

“Such as,” prompted Benedict.

“For one, when I was done sharing all my dreams with you, I realized that they actually sounded silly to me. When I was with Danny Manganero, we would sometimes talk about getting married and Disney was always our first and last choice of venue.   There was never a question as to where we’d get married.  It just seemed so natural for us to hold our wedding there – everything from the ceremony to the honeymoon.  Our imaginary plans just fell into place, and I think that’s because we were both into all things Disney.  Heck, Danny’s made a career out of working there he loves it so much.”

“So I’ve been told,” muttered Benedict. _By your parents at every, single, motherfucking opportunity._

“Roy never cared.  He was satisfied with letting me make all the decisions, as long as it didn’t interfere with his work.  So again, my choice was to go for the Disney wedding and honeymoon, as it was my dream and simple to arrange as I'd been a party to it twice before, plus my parents vow renewal.”

“Roy was a horse’s arse, pardon my choice of wording. How can a man not have a burning desire to be involved in something as paramount as his own wedding plans?” 

“Well, I can assure you that he didn’t.  It might have taken time away from his precious trial prep.”

“I want to be totally involved in every single step.”

Donna smiled at him.  “And that's how it should be, and how I hoped you would feel.  I want and need your inputs, Benedict.   I don’t want to run the whole show alone. This is your day as well as mine.  I want our wedding to be all about _us_ – a day to celebrate our love and our joining together to become our own little family. It should be a merging of our two cultures and traditions. Our wedding should reflect that.”

Benedict returned the smile and nodded.  “Yes, that’s exactly what it’s all about yes?  I’m chuffed to see we really _are_ on the same page.  We just have to sort out the ideal venues that will satisfy us both.”

“I can’t see asking my father to spend copious amounts of money on a huge, lavish, wedding meant to impress our families, friends and acquaintances.  It suddenly seems outlandish and wasteful to me.”

“You’ll get no argument from me.” 

_Christ, I can’t believe I actually said that.  At first, I thought I would be tickled to the core at the prospect of watching Neil Saint James drain his bank account for a wedding just to make a show of it.  Now, I find that I no longer want that.  It’s called taking advantage and not the proper thing to do. My parents raised me to be frugal with money and considerate when others are making expenditures solely for my benefit and pleasure, and I’m a credit to them._

“I actually _could_ plan a Disney wedding for much less than Carly’s cost...”

_Hmm…I’m sure she can, bless her.  Shit. I’m not off the hook yet. Now, she’s going to give me the budget Disney wedding scenario and sales pitch.  Perhaps dining on hot dogs and Mickey bars in a marquee set up in one of the parks for our wedding breakfast, followed by honeymoon in the camp grounds in a tent.  
_

“…but I don’t think that would be right for us.  That would be solely for me and incredibly selfish.  To be honest, Ben Honey, I don’t see you enjoying a Disney destination wedding at all.”

“You’re just stating the obvious after I’ve shared my dreams with you.”

“If a Disney wedding was what you truly wanted and dreamed of, then that’s what you would have told me.  Your dream wedding is a very traditional one, and there’s nothing wrong with that.  There are elements of it that I found very appealing.”

“It's not that I don't like Disney, Donna.  I think it would be a marvelous place for a holiday; but I just don't feel it's a proper wedding venue for me, which makes saying this difficult because I can visualize you there and having the time of your life.  Now, I feel as if I've somehow inadvertently persuaded you to consider something you may not be totally happy with in the end.  This is something you've dreamt about since you were a young girl.”

Donna drew a deep breath and took his hand in hers.  “I don’t see you standing at the altar in the Wedding Pavilion wearing a modern tuxedo.  I see you standing in a church, wearing a beautifully-tailored, traditional morning suit.  I don’t see you wearing Mickey Groom Ears and running around the parks with our families and hitting up all the rides on our honeymoon.  I see us enjoying a gourmet dinner together in a romantic rooftop restaurant in a city like Paris or Rome or Tokyo after a full day of sightseeing.  I don’t see us presiding over a banquet table in a huge ballroom at one of the resort hotels that’s been decorated to resemble Agrabah or Cinderella’s castle with Disney fur and face characters milling about as if they were invited guests.  I see you waltzing me around the dance floor of a much smaller, intimate venue, where there is no chance that Mickey Mouse will try and cut in.”

“I’d be forced to deck the bugger if he tried, you realize.”

“Mickey and Minnie can be played by both sexes,” giggled Donna.  “You never know who’s going to be underneath the character’s head, but the majority of the time it's a female.”

“Are you trying to tell me that you no longer fancy a Disney wedding then?”

“I think so…yes, I do.  I really, truly find that it’s no longer important to me like it once was.  I want something different from what my siblings had.  I want something that isn’t on such a grand scale or as elaborate as Disney or Blenheim Palace.”

Benedict feigned shock.  “I’m horrified to hear such blasphemous words leave your lips!”  _And I’m also vastly relieved at the same time.  
_

“You’re making fun of me, Ben.”

“Forgive me; but the situation lent itself to a bit of cheek, don’t you agree?”

“No.”

“I consider myself properly reprimanded then.”

“How do you think I feel? My heart has been set on a Disney wedding for years, and now the thought of it makes me want to laugh. My God, how my tastes have changed!”

“I think you should take some time to thoroughly think it through, Love.  I don’t want to be held responsible for quashing your dreams.”

“You’re not.  I think it’s a matter of my being a different person now, and my idea of the perfect wedding seems to have changed to reflect this.  My ten year old self’s dream isn't as appealing now that I’m thirty. Having a huge wedding with tons of guests and all the trimmings is no longer as important as it once was.  I think I’ll be just as happy having something more toned down…more intimate and personal.”

“I’ve also envisioned a huge wedding with all the hoopla that goes along with it.  Can you imagine actually getting married in a venue as vast and historically significant as Saint Paul’s Cathedral? My adult self can’t fathom that any more than it can holding the festivities in Blenheim Palace.  They are all such lovely dreams – both yours and mine; but they are mere reflections of our childhood fantasies I think.  As you just said – I suddenly find myself yearning for something more that will suit the two of us…and I’m going to use your words because they echo my feelings…intimate and personal.”

Donna Saint James draped her arms around Benedict Cumberbatches neck and kissed him soundly.  “Amen to that, Mr. Cumberbatch,” she whispered against his lips. “We can’t go wrong with intimate and personal. Shall we get down to some serious planning after we take some time to release all that pent up tension?”  To her delight his reply was to scoop her up in his arms and carry her up the stairs to the master bedroom with a devilish smile on his handsome face.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Happy Father's Day to any dads out there!
> 
> 2\. I'm not familiar with British wedding customs/traditions, so this story incorporates some facts with much fiction when describing some of Benedict's. I have drawn a bit from his real-life wedding as reported via the tabloids/twitter as I prefer to give it a more authentic feeling.
> 
> 3\. Wedding customs/traditions can also vary within the US, depending upon the region/area you're from. Donna's are based on the ones that I'm personally familiar with, which would be more New York City-centric. I can't speak for the South or the Midwest etc. 
> 
> 4\. The filet mignon that I describe at LeCellier has been tweaked since the last time I've had it. The meal Donna describes is my favorite meal in all of Disney. 
> 
> 5\. The Richard Petty Driving Experience allowed guests to drive NASCAR cars or ride shotgun at speeds up to 165 mph around a track. It closed in 2015. 
> 
> 6\. In my book, Williams and Sonoma hot chocolate and marshmallows is the best!


	133. Chapter 133

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Benedict and Donna continue their wedding planning and tackle the question of living together full-time. Sunday morning brings engagement announcements, which mean surprises for Karon, Benedict and Donna. 
> 
> Note: I’ll be using ******** to indicate things happening at the same time.

 

“Then I do believe we’ve just sorted out the type of wedding we want,” declared Benedict Cumberbatch as he exchanged smiles of relief with Donna Saint James.

“It sure seems that way.  I was so afraid to tell you about my Disney dream wedding for fear that you'd become angry or call me crazy.”

“Hahaha!  I thought you would have a similar reaction to my Bleinheim Palace one.”

“I’m glad we got over that hurdle.”

“So, we’re in agreement that there will be no Bleinheim Palace or Disney World extravaganza weddings for us yes?”

Donna nodded.  “Yes.  We're going to go with something more laid-back.”

“Brilliant.  So, where do you fancy us to be married:  New York or London?”

“London, of course. Why would you even bring up New York?”

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck.  “Erm…because the wedding traditionally takes place in the Bride’s hometown, which in this case happens to be New York.”

“We live in London. Why would we want to fly back and forth to the US for the sole purpose of wedding planning?  You’re working non-stop, so I’d be on my own or we’d be doing a lot of the planning online…unless you want to leave it all to my mother, who would only be too happy to plan it down to the last detail for us.”

“I’m not over the moon with either of those options. Particularly the one that gives your mother complete control.”

“That’s why getting married in London is the logical choice.  It’s where we live, and we can have complete control.”

“Ah, forever the optimist, bless you!  Do you forget that my mother still lives on that side of the ocean?” snickered Benedict.

“Wanda doesn’t scare me. We have a great relationship.”

_We’re partners in crime, so to speak. We share and maintain the same secret.  
_

“Well, she fucking terrifies me at times; and I’m her offspring,” Benedict laughed nervously.

“Stop worrying, Ben.  It’ll be fine.  I promise.”

“What about your family coming over?  It’s pricey to fly over and book a hotel just for the sole purpose of attending a wedding.”

“And had we decided to marry in New York, the reverse would happen with your family.  To be honest, the bulk of the guest list would have been my family and my parents’ acquaintances."

_That's what you think, Love.  There are plenty of Cumberbatch cousins to go around, not to mention all my parents' friends._  

"Donna, I wouldn't be surprised if my half of the guest list reached upwards of one hundred."

Donna's eyes widened.  "Holy cow!  When Carly got married, the guest list on our side alone was two hundred!  That would put our combined guest lists at three hundred!"

"Which doesn't fit the definition of a small, intimate gathering by any stretch of the imagination."

"No.  I don't want that many people at our wedding, Benedict."

Benedict nodded.  "I was hoping for a combined list of fifty people all told."

"Just our immediate families and closest friends."

"Agreed."

"This will cut the guest list down substantially, which I’m sure will secretly please my father,” laughed Donna.

"You realize that we'll wind up with closer to one hundred by the time all the negotiating is over."

"What negotiating?"

Benedict launched into an imitation of Wanda:   "Oh, Ben, how could we not invite my dear friend, Alma, and her two boys and their spouses?  Even though I haven't seen her in an age, it would still be the proper thing to do.  Why you grew up with her sons and went to Brambletye together!  Why should it matter that you lost touch with them once you went to Harrow?  But what about Bertie and Ellie? Your father and I have known them for an age.  Why should it matter that you've never once met them? They must be included on the invite list!"

Donna giggled.  "You do a perfect imitation of your mother!"

Benedict next did an imitation of Timothy:  "What do you mean by not inviting your second and third cousins, Benedict?  You were invited to all their weddings. The proper thing to do is to invite them back to yours.  After all, family is paramount."

"Do you realize how much you sound like your dad?"

"So I've been told.  Particularly when I'm on the phone."

"I was just thinking that my parents' argument is always:  Well, we went to their kid's wedding and gave a generous gift; so you need to invite them so you'll get paid back in return."

"Erm...yeah...Mum would also make that argument when it comes to some of the family.  She's got a leather-bound notebook for the sole purpose of keeping track of this kind of shit, if you can believe it!"

"My mom has a book as well," giggled Donna. "And my Nona and my aunts. Every time someone gets married, they have a discussion before deciding on how much to give."

"For fucks sake!  Where in the hell did this peculiar maternal practice originate?  Do they bestow one on you once you've given birth?  Do they send you home from hospital with the baby and a bloody book to keep track of every gift given to him or her?"

"Stop making fun.  I'll be expected to keep track of this stuff now that we're engaged."

"That's so fucked up," snorted Benedict.  "I'm sorry to take the piss, but it is ridiculous."

"But is it really?  If you take the time to think it through, it really isn't all that ridiculous.  Your family obviously adheres to the practice as well as mine.  That way we can always look back and..."

"See who was generous and who was cheap.  Sort of like when Father Christmas checks his list to see who was naughty and who was nice."

"Exactly."

"It's still bonkers in my book."

"Duly noted.  We're getting a little off track here.  As I was about to say:  My immediate family and grandparents will definitely fly over for our wedding. They’re the ones who matter most to me.”

“That’s it then?”

“Oh, I’m sure the majority of my aunts and uncles will come and possibly a few of my first cousins.  I know my closest friends will make an effort to come as well, especially those I invite to be in the bridal party.”

"Sounds like we're going to go over fifty people, before negotiations."

"Well, we need to stand firm and not yield too much.  It's not their wedding - it's ours."

"I hope to hell you remember those words when the time comes to tell them what their limit is."

"So do I."

Donna leaned back against Benedict as they quietly watched the fire.  He put his arms around her and kissed the top of her head.

"I love you, you know."

"Yes, and I love you very much.  I really hope I get my visa renewed so I can go back to London with you on Saturday."

"Me, too.  It's so fucking lonely without you around the flat."

"I know!  I got so used to us being together all the time.  My apartment seems so empty when you're not there."

_Now would be an opportune time to broach the topic of her moving in with me.  There’s no reason on earth for her to put me off any longer._

“Now that we're engaged, why not move in with me full-time then?” 

_I should have seen this coming.  We are practically living together full-time, except for when one of us needs to be in our home base._

Donna smiled at him.  “Yes and no.”

Benedict gaped at her.  “Bloody hell!  _What kind of rubbish answer is that?_

"What exactly is that supposed to mean?” he demanded, clearly frustrated by her response. 

“It’s complicated, Ben.”

“Not really," he retorted.  "You simply box up whatever clothes and tchotchkes you have; and Adam and I bring them over to my flat.  Then you wire the chap you sublease from that you won’t be there on a full-time basis; but will have a look in from time-to-time to make sure the plants are properly watered and no one has ransacked the place.”  

Donna remained silent.  _That's not as simple as he makes it sound.  Those orchids are practically a full-time job._

“I just thought of something else," continued Benedict. "I’m sure Andrew wouldn’t mind keeping an eye on the place being he lives directly across the hall.  You could have an extra key made for him.” 

“That’s not fair to ask that of Andrew, Benedict. He’s never even met Marco.  He and Stephen moved in after Marco left the country.  I seriously doubt Marco would welcome the idea of having a complete stranger coming into his apartment.” 

“Are you going to tell me that you’re _still_ not ready to move in with me after knowing me for almost a year?” asked Benedict with a note of irritation in his voice.  “You can’t get any more intimate with a human being than we already are - physically and emotionally.  We know each others deepest, darkest secrets…” 

_Not all, Ben.  Not all._

“…and you've just professed to missing my company when I'm absent from the premises; so I can’t fathom why the hesitation.  I want you to explain it to me please,” said Benedict, mustering all of his patience.

“Please don’t misunderstand, Ben Honey. I’m in complete agreement that we should live together full-time.”

Benedict raised an eyebrow at her. “Well then, what seems to be the problem?”

“It’s not a problem per se; but I can’t make Hampstead my home base as long as I’m subletting Marco’s apartment for another year.  I can’t abandon it and just stop in every now and then.  Part is the deal is that I keep it clean and maintained.  He’s got all those expensive exotic plants that I agreed to take care of. They need to be fed and watered and kept in the sunlight for a certain amount of time. That wouldn’t be right to just pick up and go, and you know it.” 

_She loves that motherfucking flat is the problem, and it’s a short walk to the Tribune’s offices and Carldonn.  I also don’t think she’s over the moon with my flat.  To be honest, it can’t compare with her ultra-modern posh sublet._  

“We’ll drop in and clean it once a month.”

“I clean it every week from top to bottom.  Besides you're forgetting the plants, which you are supposed to be taking care of. Who's looking after them now?"

"Andrew. He lives across the hall, so it makes perfect sense.  I gave him my key and your notes."

"Jeez Louise.  I hope he takes those instructions seriously."

"I'm sure he will, Donna.  Andrew is completely trustworthy.  He assured me he would follow them to the letter and to tell you not to worry."

"I'd better give him a call to make sure all is well."

"He's promised to get in touch, should something go awry, but it isn't going to.  Now, that the matter of minding the plants has been sorted, we were discussing living together full-time."

"We’re practically living together full time as is, Benedict.” 

“We only spend the entire night together seventy-five percent of the time," retorted Benedict with mounting irritation in his voice. "I’m not content to sleep alone any longer.  I want us to be together all the time now.  I wish to wake up every morning with you beside me.” 

_Though now that I said that I realize that’s not going to happen all that often; as she gets up before I do the majority of the time._

“Please don’t feel hurt, Benedict.  My keeping the apartment will actually benefit you in the long run, if you think about it.” 

Benedict narrowed his ice blue eyes and stared seemingly right through her.  “Regale me then.” 

“ _After the Dance_ is going to be at the National, so you’ll be spending a lot of time there, right?” 

“Yeah, that’s true.” 

“Well, my apartment is almost right across the Thames from it.” 

“You need to consult a map, Darling. It’s not all _that_ close,” pointed out Benedict.  “There’s no contest that your flat is closer than going back and forth to Hampstead each night.  I can keep my motorbike in your buildings car park, then I can be back and forth in ten minutes,  If I choose to walk along Southbank to the Millenium Bridge, then it would take me about twenty-five  minutes all told.  I do see the lure though and will consider it for the duration of the run.” 

“It might also come in handy when you’re going to be filming _Sherlock,"_ added Donna.  "I realize it depends where in London the filming takes place, but at least it would be closer than going back and forth up to Hampstead.” 

“Most of the time we’ll be shooting in and around Cardiff.” 

_Cardiff?  Did he say Cardiff?  That’s not in London!_  

“Do you mean Cardiff as in Wales?” 

Benedict nodded.  “Yep.  Wales.  I’ll be driving or taking the train there the day before I'm needed on set.  Then depending on the schedule; I may be required to stay the entire week. I’m supposed to have two days off per week per my contract;  However, those may be subject to rescheduling should we need to be at a particular location that will only allow filming on certain days or I have to work extra days should we fall behind in filming. Before you say anything, I will be compensated should that happen.” 

“I thought you would get weekends off.” 

“Most of the time they will try and schedule it that way; but sometimes we need a location that’s only available on the weekend.  Also, I’ll not be needed on set every day, as there are scenes without Sherlock; so they'll schedule my days off around that. For example, I might be off Monday and Tuesday, whilst Martin's filming scenes that don't include me on those days.  It will change each week depending on the scenes being filmed.  If there's a night shoot, we'll start late in the day and work through the night.  Television and film crews never have set schedules and call times.  It's different each week.” 

"Holy cow. This is going to wreck havoc with our wedding planning.  We'll need time to look at venues and for picking out flowers and our cake and making honeymoon plans." 

"Not to worry, Darling.  Wedding planning is paramount to me. I'll find a way to carve out the time.  I promise not to let you down." 

“Boy, I’ve got a lot to learn about being married to an actor.  How long did you say it will take to film these three episodes?” 

“They budget six weeks per episode, but it can run a day or two over.  One week is for the table read and some rehearsal.  Five weeks to film on the Cardiff sound stage, interspersed with location shoots in the surrounding areas. Finally, we'll take one week in London to do location shots.  Our version of Baker Street will actually be on Gower Street near Euston Station.” 

“That’s where the Welcome Collection is.” 

“Right across Euston Road it is.” 

“Steve’s teaching hospital is near there as well.” 

“Very close.  Yes.” 

“Do you get any time other than the two days you mentioned?” 

“Yeah.  One week in between each episode block.” 

“Well, if you were a businessman, you might be asked to travel, too.  I know people who do.” 

“True. Derrick is an excellent example of that.  He’s forever flying off for meetings here and there.” 

"Maybe I can come with you to Cardiff.  I've never been to Wales.  I can do some touring while you're filming.  I could even ask Eric about doing a column on where to dine in Cardiff." 

“I don't see why not.  Anyway, it looks as if we’ve reached an impasse on our living arrangements." 

"I relinquish the sublet back to Marco next December. So that will be perfect timing with the wedding.  I'll move in with you full-time right after our honeymoon.” 

_Maybe it's my flat she doesn't care for.  I never thought of that. It is smallish and the décor is a bit Spartan. However, she always raves about the area and what I could do with some renovations.  She's used to having a lot of room._    

“If you're not happy about living in my flat, perhaps there's an alternative.  Would you rather we look for another place…a home of our own?” 

“I love Hampstead, Benedict; and I love your apartment.  It’s such a grand old house; but it’s too small to raise a family in.  Kids need space and a nice backyard to play in.  All you have is a small rooftop garden.  You can't put a swing set up there.” 

“You’re right, of course,” agreed Benedict sadly.  “It’s just that when I bought my flat, I did so with the intent of remaining there.” 

_I stupidly wasn't thinking about fitting more than one child in my flat when I bought it. The idea was always to expand the loft into another floor, which I don't have the funds to do right now.  She's right about having a garden for any children to play in._  

“We can certainly stay there in your place until we decide to start a family in a year or two.  It'll give us time to save up more money for a down payment.” 

“I don’t fancy waiting any longer than a year to start a family,” retorted Benedict. 

“How about we discuss that on our first anniversary,” said Donna. "Let's consider the timing open to negotiation." 

“I suppose in the interim we can begin looking around at houses to get an idea of which areas we’d be interested in setting down our roots in.” 

“I look forward to decorating a place of my own.  Every place I’ve ever lived in has been decorated for me.”

“This place is perfectly lovely as is.”

“It is, but it’s not my style. I would never have a painting of a rabbit on my mantel!” she laughed.  “If it were me doing it from scratch,  I would have decorated it so much differently.” 

“Then why didn’t you?” 

“It seemed a shame to throw out all these brand new furnishings.  People pay Greta Lombard thousands to design and decorate the interior of their homes.  I figured I’d redo it in a few years when things started to show wear.  Then I wound up taking a job in London, and here I am – planning to have a life there with the most wonderful man in the world.” 

Benedict felt a blush creeping into his cheeks as he took both her hands in his.  “I want you to feel free to redecorate my flat so you’ll feel at home in it when you move in.  I’ve been thinking of doing some minor renovating, so this would be a good time to begin, yes?” 

“Thank you. That’s very generous and kind of you, Ben Honey.” 

Benedict crinkled his nose and smiled at her.  “I feel a home needs to reflect the taste and style of those residing in it.” 

“We’re making excellent progress so far, wouldn’t you say?” 

“Yeah.  We haven’t had a domestic yet.” 

“Shall we continue?” 

“I propose that we wait until tomorrow to do any more planning, and let everything we’ve been discussing sink in.  Then when we’re feeling fresh, we can zero in on exactly what we’d like.   I think we could use a distraction right now.” 

As if on cue, there was a knock on Donna’s apartment door.  Benedict looked at her.   

“Are we expecting company?  Who would venture out in this horrible weather?” 

“The outside intercom didn’t buzz, so that could only mean two possibilities.” Donna got up and headed for the foyer.  “It’s either Carly or Steven.”   

She opened the door to find Carly standing there holding a foil-wrapped loaf.  “Hi, I got bored and decided to do some baking.  Behold the first pumpkin tea bread of the season.  Steve already ate half of one and says to tell you it’s moist and delicious.” 

“Thank you!  I was going to make pumpkin pancakes, but we got a late start this morning,” said Donna.  “Come on in.  We just finished doing some future planning.” 

“I came up to invite you guys downstairs for homemade pizza and beer.  The dough’s proofing, and Steve said he’ll even take out a couple of bottles of his Brooklyn Brewery beer so Ben can have it at room temperature.” 

“That’s okay. I don’t mind it cold.  Beer is being served cold more often in London these days.  Besides, I’ve learnt to drink it cold after hanging around with your sister,” said Benedict, joining the two women in the foyer.  “Care to come in, and I'll make you a cuppa?” 

“Thanks but I have to get back downstairs.  We’re in the middle of a heated game of scrabble, and I'm seriously considering cheating. Why don’t you two come down and we’ll play a couple of games. Then we can make the pizza together.”

“Sounds good to me,” said Donna, rubbing her hands together.  “I love a good, competitive game of scrabble.”

“That’s because you or Steve always win,” retorted Carly, scrunching up her face into a mock pout. 

 “You can count me in for a game or two,” added Benedict.  “Scrabble is one of my favourite board games.”

“Are you any good?” inquired Carly.  “I hate playing against Steve because he's always using his medical lingo and wins every single time!  I need to keep the dictionary close by because I have to constantly verify the spelling of his words."

"Of course Ben's good!"  laughed Donna.  "He's a superb Scrabble player and often beats me.  Honey, you and I would make an unbeatable team."

"Then how about we play in teams this time?  Ben and I against you and Steve?"  Carly smiled at Benedict. "I'd love to have a chance at beating Steve and the self-proclaimed Queen of the Scrabble Board.  I bet you use up all of your letters right away with all those long words you use.”    

Benedict smiled smugly.  “As a matter of fact, I’m known throughout Hampstead for my triple letter scores.”  He winked at Carly. "I'd love to be your partner, Carly."

“Then that settles it. You're on my team, Ben!” said Carly as she took Benedict by the arm.  “I’ll even make you one of my famous pumpkin martinis to sip while we play.” 

“Hey!  That’s not fair, Carla.  You’re trying to ply him with drinks.” 

“Yes, I am.  Every time I play against you or Steve, I lose. This time I might actually have a chance at winning!”

“What happened to our being a team?” Donna said, taking Benedict’s other arm.  “Steve’s a horrible scrabble player. Carly just said that to tempt you over to her side. She'll have a distinct advantage by having you on her team. That’s hardly what I call fair.”

"My sister is just saying that because Steve takes sooo long to play his hand.  He spends up to ten minutes studying the board and calculating all the possibilities, and Miss Impatience here can't stand it." 

Benedict looked from Donna to Carly and back again.  "I have to say I'm truly flattered to have two beautiful women fighting over me; however, I don't wish to be the cause of friction between you."

"What does that mean?" demanded Donna.  "We're not fighting over you!"

"We were just kidding," chimed in Carly.  "We're not that competitive, are we Donna?"

"Speak for yourself, Curly Carly.  I want to win."

"Then I think the only feasible solution is for the men to play against the women," suggested Benedict. "Steve and I will be invincible."

"We've never played on the same side, Donna!  I like that idea!" exclaimed Carly. "We accept the challenge!  The losers have to clean the kitchen after dinner."

"We're toast," muttered Donna.  "That's not fair.  Between Benedict's huge vocabulary and Steve's medical terms, we don't stand a chance!"

“All is fair in love and scrabble, Darling," smiled Benedict serenely. "I strongly suggest that you prepare to lose, and bring your cow apron downstairs so you don't mess your lovely outfit whilst helping Carly clean up the kitchen.”

 

 

The next morning:

Karon Maskill and Eddie Izzard reclined on opposite ends of the sofa, reading the Sunday London Times whilst enjoying their morning coffee and fried egg and sausage sarnies.  Tess, Karon's miniature bulldog, sat on the floor in the middle, watching both of them expectantly.  Every now and then, the little bulldog would wander over to one of her owners and get up on her hind legs and beg for a treat.

“Tess is on high crumb alert,” observed Eddie.  “Shall I give her a nibble so she’ll settle down?” 

“She’s already had her breakfast,” Karon reminded him.  “And some of mine as well.” 

“Tess likes to taste everyone’s food.  It’s her own built-in version of quality control.  She thinks she’s protecting us from ingesting spoilt food.” 

“Tess is just trying to mooch off whichever of us she perceives to be the easier mark.  This morning it’s me.” 

“You do realize we’re talking about a dog,” laughed Eddie.

“And a very intelligent one at that!” laughed Karon, reaching down to scratch Tess behind the ears.  “I suppose since it's Sunday we’ll make an exception.”  Karon got to her feet and padded barefoot into the kitchen.  “Come, Tess.  Let’s fetch you a nice dog biscuit. Shall I get you another coffee, Love?"

"It makes more sense to just fill the carafe the way we've been downing it this morning."

"Brilliant idea. Isn't Nancy's engagement announcement supposed to be posted today?"

"I was just turning to that section when Tess decided to try her hand at begging."

Tess obediently followed her mistress into the kitchen, leaving Eddie alone in the lounge to look for his niece's engagement announcement.

_Hmm...nothing so far.  Perhaps my sister didn't make the deadline for submitting the ad.  Oh...wait.  What's this?  Karon never mentioned anything about Benedict Cumberbatch getting engaged.  Fancy that?_   

“Well, would you look at this!” exclaimed Eddie. “Karon!  Look what I just came across in the Times!!” 

Karon poked her head out from the kitchen and glowered at him.  “Please don’t tell me I’m going to get a call from one of my clients, who needs my assistance in getting them out of a pickle.” 

“It’s nothing like that, Love. You can relax. It’s nothing bad at all,” Eddie reassured her. “It’s actually what I would call good news.” 

“Oh, that’s a relief! There’s nothing worse than trying to do damage control after a Saturday night filled with debauchery that is caught on camera by the paps and printed in the damn tabloids.” 

“It’s nothing of that sort.” 

“Well, what is it then?” Karon inquired, returning to the lounge with a dog biscuit in one hand and a carafe of hot coffee in the other.  Tess patiently resumed sitting in her spot on the floor, looking up hopefully at her mistress with her tongue lolling out of her mouth. 

“I've been having a read of the engagement announcements and can't seem to find one for Nancy."

"Bloody hell, Eddie! Is that why you made me rush out? Because you couldn't find your niece's announcement? The papers require two or three days notice to post an ad.  It'll be in tomorrow's for certain."

Eddie held up a hand with red manicured nails. "You didn't let me finish. However, I did come across one for your favourite client.” 

Karon gave Tess her biscuit and patted her on the head.  Tess wagged her tail and settled down on the floor to devour her treat as Karon refilled their mugs with hot coffee.

“ _You’re_ my favourite client, Eddie. Is there something you haven’t been telling me?” 

Eddie chuckled as he folded the paper in half before handing it over to her.  “I’m talking about Benedict Cumberbatch - Your _other_ favourite client.  I meant favourite in a purely sarcastic way when referring to him.” 

Karen looked completely gobsmacked as she plopped onto the sofa and took the paper from her partner.  “Benedict’s engaged?” 

“According to this Times ad he is.  See for yourself,” Eddie replied, pointing to the block of print.

Karon took the paper from him and read the announcement aloud:   

“Mr. B.T.C. Cumberbatch and Miss D.M. Saint James:

The engagement is announced between Benedict, son of Wanda and Timothy Cumberbatch of London, and Donna, daughter of Antonia and Neil Saint James of New York, New York.”

“Why the frown? I thought it was done in good taste, yes?” remarked Eddie. 

“I'm frowning because this is news to me,” declared Karon, handing the paper back to Eddie. “I had no idea Ben intended to get engaged whilst on holiday. Usually, Ben comes out with everything. No secret is ever safe with him.”

“Apparently, this one was.”

“This was something he needed to tell me about, Eddie.”

“Well in a way he did.  You’re finding out via the announcement.”

“That you just happened to come across whilst looking for Nancy’s.   I rarely read the announcements unless I actually put one in for a client.” 

“Perhaps it’s time you start giving them a glance,” suggested Eddie. “You did mention that Benedict was in a serious relationship, so his wanting to get married shouldn’t come as a complete surprise.” 

“No.  I guess it shouldn’t. They’ve been together for several months now and seem to get along splendidly. It’s the happiest I’ve seen Ben in a long while. I’m glad for him. Really I am.” 

“It is funny he didn’t mention it to you, given his penchant for telling all.  I would have thought he’d fancy a press release.” 

“All I know is that Ben emailed me last week saying he was going to New York on holiday for two weeks, and to contact him via email or Skype if something needing his immediate attention arose.  This certainly qualifies,” said Karon as she got to her feet and began pacing back and forth in front of the couch.

“It just goes to prove that Ben can keep a secret when he wants to,” snickered Eddie.  “Well done him.” 

“We’re five hours ahead, so it’s only half five in the morning there.  I suppose it’s too early to ring him yes?” 

“I wouldn’t want you ringing me at that hour of the morning, unless someone was found dead.  Why don’t you just send him a congratulatory email instead?” 

“Because I need to know if he wants me to issue a statement to the press that he’s gotten engaged.  Being it’s already in the Times, I need to act quickly while the news is still fresh. Can you google it on my mobile and see if anyone else has made mention of it?” 

“I sincerely doubt it; but I’ll humour you since you made us such a tasty breakfast.  I wouldn't want to interrupt your pacing.”

Eddie picked up her mobile and did as Karon requested. 

“Well?  Is there anything?” 

“Just as I suspected – there’s not a single mention of it anywhere.  The announcement went completely unnoticed by the press.  It’s not like Prince Harry got engaged and Prince Charles took out an ad.” 

“Very funny.” 

“Shall I work something like that into my standup act then?” 

“You’re being very witty this morning.” 

“Someone has to be, Love.  Why do you care so bloody much if Ben issues a statement or not?” 

“I would think it were obvious, given my line of work! If I can get Ben’s permission to make a statement, it’ll get his name out there for a day or two.  Hopefully, it’ll get picked up by another paper or wire service and have a domino effect. It’s all about getting my client some positive publicity and stirring up curiosity; and the publicist should be among the first to make an announcement like that!”

Tess finished her biscuit and looked from Karon to Eddie and whined. 

Eddie reached down and scratched behind her ears.  She then rolled onto her back so that he could rub her belly.   

“I also don’t want anyone else reading it and stealing my thunder!” 

“Do you really think that many people read those announcements, Karon?  I only noticed it because I was looking for Nancy's announcement and recognized his last name. Otherwise I would have overlooked it as just another announcement.” 

“The tabloids have people who go through the announcements on the off chance that they come up with something of merit.  Sometimes, celebrities try and sneak in a birth, marriage or engagement announcement hoping to fly under the radar; and sometimes they do it on purpose.  As for Ben’s announcement, he’s not the sort of actor that anyone would really care if he got engaged or not. Whoever placed the ad used his initials on the header rather than his full name so I highly doubt it would be picked up.” 

“I agree with most of what you’re saying; but I think Cumberbatch stands out like a sore thumb.  You’re right in that he’s just not that popular that the tabloids would give a toss as to whether or not he gets married.” 

“This is precisely why I think Ben ought to allow me to make a statement. It will help with name recognition and it’s something positive.  I can say something to the effect of:  Actor, Benedict Cumberbatch, star of BBC One’s highly anticipated series _Sherlock_ , has become engaged to Donna Saint James, writer of the popular Tasty Restaurants column for the London Tribune.” 

“It’s Tasty Travels, Karon,” correctly Eddie gently. 

“Thank you, Love.  I can never get that right. Tasty Travels it is.  Anyway, it’s positive publicity for Ben, Donna, the BBC and the London Tribune. I’m sure they’ll be chuffed with it.” 

“I’m sure Ben will be; but there are Donna’s feelings to consider. She may not be on board with it.” 

“I hate when you play Devil’s Advocate.” 

“It’s something you need to consider, Karon.  This isn’t just about Ben anymore.” 

“Of course it is,” insisted Karon with a dismissive wave of her hand. "He's my client, not her.  I'm being paid to promote him.  If Donna happens to get a free ride on his coattails, then jolly good for her.  It's a bonus."

"Why do I suspect that you're anticipating trouble with her?"

“Donna is going to have to understand that she’s now officially part of Ben’s team and needs to play the part of the adoring and devoted fiancée.” 

“Well, she has agreed to marry him; so I think adoring and devoted are already covered.” 

“Donna’s job is to advocate his brand and support him.  This will be her first time officially supporting him in print.” 

“Unless she doesn’t wish to. You do have clients even more famous than Benedict Cumberbatch who have significant others who choose to remain under the radar.  Not everyone likes having their photos or names splashed all over the papers.” 

“For fucks sake!  I need her to be on the same page as the rest of us. There’s nothing worse than a difficult partner to have to deal with!” 

“I know about those pesky partners first hand."

"We agreed from our first date that I would be known as your PR person in public only."

"And so far, we've done a pretty decent job of keeping our relationship under wraps. I hope you can sort it out for Ben’s sake. If I were you, I’d definitely be sure to personally discuss it with her as well as Ben - after you've properly congratulated them.” 

“I’ve always made it my policy to obtain my client’s permission before making any sort of statement to the press; hence the need for a Skype call.  I want to speak with both of them face-to-face, as it were.  Body language says a lot about a person.” 

“Ben’s a pretty open person from all you’ve said about him.”

Karon smiled and nodded at Eddie.  “Ben wears his heart on his sleeve, so I never have to wonder what he’s thinking.  Donna Saint James, on the other hand, is much harder to read.  She definitely prefers to keep a low profile, and I’m willing to entertain that up to a certain point.  My job is to sell Benedict Cumberbatch to the public. As his fiancée, she’s now going to be a part of his brand and will need to accept and get used to it.” 

Tess got up on her hind legs and rubbed her head against Eddie’s thigh. 

“Now, Tess here is very easy to read.  She fancies another dog biscuit.” 

“I’d say not only are you right; but it’s your turn to fetch the biscuit.  I’ve got to prepare a statement to present to Ben.”

"And Donna Saint James."

"Yes, and Donna Saint James."

 

***************************************************

 

Donna Saint James woke up early on Sunday morning, eagerly anticipating seeing the engagement announcement her parents had placed in the New York Times. She made herself a cup of decaf tea and stood by the living room window so she could keep watch for the boy who delivered the newspapers.  The sun was out in full force, and the ice had melted on the sidewalks and steps.  

_Excellent!  Everything has already melted off, and we can go to Mom and Dad’s for brunch later!_  

Promptly, at seven o’clock, Donna saw Jimmy McCafferty making his way up the block, delivering the papers as he always did.  Finally, he reached Donna’s brownstone and left the papers on the front stoop for her and Carly.

_I can't wait to see the ad!_ Thought Donna, as she tore out of the room and headed downstairs. _I wish Benedict were up!  I want us to read it together!_  

 

********************************************************

  

“Morning!” called out Benedict Cumberbatch, as he bounded down the stairs.  The spicy smell of baking mingled with coffee filled the air.  

_Hmm…smells like someone’s been awfully industrious this morning.  Her side of the bed was cold again, so Lord knows what time she got up._

“Donna?” 

There was no response.  Benedict wandered down the hall and into an empty, sun-filled kitchen where he found two dozen blueberry muffins cooling on a wire rack.  There was a small sticky note on the countertop that read: 

For Brunch!  Please do not eat! I'm making us a light breakfast to tide us over.  :-D

He went to the window that looked out on the buildings behind them and saw that the weather was vastly improved over the day before.  The snowman in the garden behind Donna's brownstone was already melting in the sunshine. The bright blue sky was devoid of clouds and the wind appeared calm.   

_Shit!  I guess brunch at Neil and Toni’s is on, and Donna intends to bring the muffins to her parents’ home._  

The table had been laid for two and there was a small dish with a scoop of what appeared to be cinnamon butter and a cow pitcher filled with maple syrup. There was a griddle on the stove and a bowl of orange-looking batter studded with chopped nuts on the counter beside it with a ladle.  Benedict took a sniff and nodded to himself. 

_I smell pumpkin, cinnamon, cloves, and ginger. This must be the batter for the pumpkin pancakes Donna was talking about yesterday.  I never had so much pumpkin in my life over the last several days.  She and Carly put it in everything, bless them!  It’s a good thing I like it.  Hmm…I think I need some coffee first._  

The coffee pot was filled with freshly brewed coffee, and there was a cow mug on the countertop beside the machine.  Benedict poured himself a cup, added milk and sugar and took a sip. 

_I taste cinnamon and hazelnuts.  Thank heaven she can make a decent cuppa…though I would have made it a wee bit stronger.  I guess I’ll have a putter on my laptop.  We don’t have to be at her parents’ until half eleven, so I’ve plenty of time.  Perhaps we can tackle some more wedding planning.  I know I'm settled on what I'd like for us._

Benedict left the kitchen and headed towards the lounge, mug in hand.  The foyer door leading to the lift and staircase to the ground floor stood open, but there was still no sign of Donna.

_Ha!  I really was in dire need of coffee as I didn't even notice the door stood open like that.  Donna must be downstairs visiting Carly.  I can’t believe how early they both get up._

Benedict found Donna’s mug of tea on one of the end tables in the lounge.  He felt the mug, which was still hot.

_She hasn't been gone all that long, I would have thought she'd take her tea with her,_ he mused as he went to the window and gazed down at the street. There was Donna on the stoop gathering up what looked like newspapers. Benedict tapped on the windowpane to get her attention. She looked up and waved at him and disappeared back into the house. 

_The Mystery of the Missing Fiancée has been solved.  She went out to fetch the morning papers. The streets and pavement look remarkably devoid of snow and ice._

Benedict made himself at home on the couch and booted up his laptop. He looked up as he heard the door to the lift slide open and the sound of Donna’s footsteps as she came through the door, slamming it shut behind her.  Her face was flushed with excitement, and she was carrying a newspaper under her arm **.**  

“Morning,” Benedict said in his gravelly morning voice .  “I thought you had gone downstairs to visit Carly and Steve; but then I saw you had gone outside.” 

“They like to sleep late on Sundays, if you can believe that.”

“Oh, I can bloody well believe that,” chuckled Benedict. “Along with a good majority of the world who enjoy having a lie in on Sunday morning.”

“I went down to get the paper. My parents put an engagement announcement in today’s New York Times, and I can’t wait for us to see it!” 

_Hmmm…I bet the ad was free as the wanker works for them_ , thought a bemused Benedict.  _My Dad paid for his ad in the London Times, which reminds me that we need to check my email.  Mum promised to scan and email us a copy of it._  

Benedict patted the couch for her to sit beside him.  “Well, let’s have a look at it then.”   

Donna sat next to him and eagerly opened the paper, turning to the classified section.  

“Erm…are you forgetting something?”  Benedict said pointing to his lips.   

“I can never turn down an invitation to kiss those luscious cupids bow lips of yours,” giggled Donna, putting down the paper so she could hug and kiss him.   He tasted of coffee, hazelnuts and cinnamon.

"Mmm...that coffee tastes pretty good.  I might break down and try a cup of that." 

She gave him another deep kiss, parting his lips with her tongue.  He immediately allowed her entry and swirled the tip of his around hers, eliciting a soft moan from her.

“Ah, that’s more like it,” murmured Benedict as they paused to take a breath.  “So, let’s get on with it. Which section is the announcement in?” 

“Let’s see…it will be in the Weddings Directory under Celebrations and Engagements.”   

Benedict loaded his emails as Donna furiously turned the pages, looking for the section with the ads.  He scanned his emails and saw that there was one from Wanda entitled: 

Scan of Your London Times Engagement Ad

“Oh!  Look, Benedict!  Here it is!  Oh, how sweet – Mom and Dad even thought to include a photo of us!” 

_Bloody hell!  They put in a photo of us?_  

Benedict’s ice blue eyes were immediately drawn to the large ad.  It began with a nice-sized photo of him and Donna that had been taken by Antonia at the Orangery during their visit to London. 

“I’ve always liked that photo,” commented Benedict, taking a swig of his coffee.  “Why don’t you read it to me, Darling.” 

“Okey dokey.  Ready?” 

Benedict nodded.  “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.” _For fucks sake!  Just read it already!_  

“Neil and Antonia Saint James of New York, New York; are pleased to announce the engagement of their daughter, Donna Marie Saint James, to Benedict Timothy Carlton Cumberbatch, son of Timothy and Wanda Cumberbatch of London, England on November 20th.” 

_They do it a bit differently, but simple and classy none-the-less,_ thought Benedict approvingly. We can read Mum and Dad's later.  I'm feeling a bit randy right now.

“Well done them. Fancy a shower for two? My peen is feeling much better today.” 

“Not so fast. There’s more, Ben.” 

_More?  What more is there to say?  We’re engaged._

“Read on then.” 

“The future bride is a 2002 graduate of Columbia University, with a Masters Degree from their School of Journalism. She is a Restaurant Critic and writes a weekly column for the London Tribune…” 

_That’s just like them to tout their daughter’s accomplishments, bless the boasting wankers. We would never put that in an ad.  How very tacky is that?_

“Is it normal to list the bride’s accomplishments?” 

Donna nodded.  “Sometimes, yes.  It depends upon what you can afford because you pay per word.” 

_Hells bells!  It’s a good thing they probably got it gratis then.  I can’t even imagine how much it would have cost given the photograph, all the text and the fancy framing._

“Well you sound very accomplished then.  I’ll go up and turn on the towel warmer.” 

“Oh, I’m not done yet.” 

Benedict frowned. _There’s more? What more can there possibly be? Maybe they threw in that she’s also a graduate of the Cordon Bleu’s summer program and a former member of the Girl Scouts._

“They listed your accomplishments, too!” 

Benedict looked aghast _. Jesus…fuck…I’m terrified to hear what the wankers put in about me._

"Don't look so rattled, Honey!  There's nothing bad in here!"

"I'll be the judge of that,"  retorted Benedict.

“The future groom is a 1999 graduate of Manchester University with a BA in Drama and a 2000 graduate of the London Academy of Music and Dramatic Art with a Master of Arts in Classical Acting. He is currently based in London where he is filming BBC One's _Sherlock_ in the title role and will be starring in a revival of Terrence Rattigan's _After the Dance_ in Spring 2010 at the Royal National Theatre.” 

_Currently based in London?  What in the fuck is that supposed to mean? Hope springs eternal as far as her parents are concerned.  I get that they prefer we set down roots in the States.  Maybe they really didn't mean anything by it.  I suppose you could say I'm currently based in London - as that is where I reside.  No, somehow I think that's a case of wishful thinking on their part.  I'll just let it pass._

“I'm pleasantly surprised. They got it all right. That’s all true. Well done them.” 

_This way they can show off to their family and friends that even though their daughter is marrying an actor at least I’m a working one._

“Jolly good then.  Shower time!” 

“If I didn’t know better I’d think you were getting awfully worked up over the built-in bench in my shower.” 

“I also find the hand-held shower head attachment quite enjoyable as well.  It’s paramount that one makes sure to get as clean as possible; so we’re going to need some time to make sure all of our…sensitive areas are properly taken care of.” Benedict got to his feet and stretched. “Maybe I’ll also turn on the heated floor tiles.  It’s so nice not having to walk on cold tiles yes?” 

“Wait!  There’s more.” 

“More?”  Benedict blurted out in disbelief. “You just read me the War and Peace of engagement announcements, and you tell me there’s more.”

Donna looked miffed. “It’s just a couple of more lines."

"I hope to hell it's brief."

"Since when did you decide to embrace brevity?"

"That was rather snarky of you."

  
"I thought you were tickled at reading the announcement?” 

Benedict crinkled his nose at her and waggled his eyebrows at her. “I was tickled enough yesterday morning to last me the rest of my holiday.”  

“Am I boring you, Benedict?” 

“Not at all.  I was just thinking that it’s getting late, and we want to make sure to carve out some time for more…stimulating pursuits.” 

Donna noted that his words were followed by a lewd smile. 

_Okay.  I get it.  He’s got the attention span of an ant at times.  His mind is on getting off in the shower with me, which is an appealing thought…especially when we use the hand-held shower head.  I still hate that he’s trying to rush me through this!  I want to savor it._  

“If you don’t want to hear it, that’s okay," Donna sniffed. "You can use the shower first being you seem to be in such a hurry.” 

_Well done, Benedict.  You’ve gone and made her stropy now. Why did I have to say that?  I’ve gone and shot myself in the proverbial foot for making that snarky comment.  I need to stop acting like such a git and be patient and act grateful._

“I’m sorry for making light of something so important.” 

Donna ignored him and sat stoically, staring straight ahead.  

_Liar.  You want to go upstairs and fool around in the shower.  You don’t really care about my parents’ announcement.  All you want to do is poke fun at it. That’s what he’s doing in his not-so-subtle way._

Benedict sat back down next to her.  “Please finish, Donna.  I don’t fancy having a row with you.” 

“The couple is planning a 2010 wedding and will reside in New York.  Neil Saint James is the New York Times Art and Leisure Editor, and Antonia Saint James is a managing partner in the Manhattan-based law firm, Mangano and Saint James.”

_Oh, this is a corker!  The wankers made sure to list their accomplishments as well.  
_

“Is it normal for the bride’s parents to list their accomplishments as well?”

“No.  That was just my father showing off.”

“So that ad was more for their family, friends and acquaintances, yes?”

“It was also meant for our friends who reside in New York – like Tertius and his family.”

“The ending sounded suspiciously like an advert for their places of business.”

“I guess it did just a little.”

“I notice that no mention was made of my parents’ accomplishments,” sniffed Benedict, staring at her pointedly.

_Hmmm…he’s right about that.  Daddy totally disregarded Wanda and Tim’s occupations, as if they weren’t important.  Shit.  Ben’s feelings are hurt, and I can’t blame him one bit._

“That was inconsiderate of him to neglect to say what your parents did.  If it counts for anything, I never would have placed an ad in the first place.”

Benedict’s face softened.  “It does count for a lot. So, is that all then?”

“Yes. It was actually a very lovely thing for them to post…” 

_Wait just a minute.  Did I hear New York mentioned? Did Donna just read that we will reside in New York?  Oh, those cocksuckers!_  

“What fresh hell is this about setting a date and living in New York?  They have no idea that we’ve set a date – 2010 was just a lucky guess, I suppose.  And if you think I missed that currently based in London part, then you’re wrong.  What’s this shit about our living in New York?  Do they know something we don’t know?  That’s rather presumptuous of them, isn’t it?  We already sorted that issue out yesterday.” 

“Are you done venting?” 

Benedict got up and strode to the window, which overlooked 65th Street. People were already out and about enjoying their Sunday routines.

“No.” 

“I think you’re making more out of this than you should.” 

“I beg to disagree.” 

“Aren’t you currently based in London?  As far as I know, that’s where you live…unless you live on Mars and have super powers enabling you to commute without my knowledge.” 

“Stop being snarky.” 

“Alright. Currently based in London was a correct statement, but the residing in New York part was not.”

“I don’t know why they put that in, Ben!  That sounds more like wishful thinking on their part.  I agree that the 2010 wedding date was a good guess based on their knowing how anxious you are to get married as soon as we can make it happen. I’ll make sure they retract the living in New York part when they place the wedding announcement.” 

Benedict blinked at her.  “Bloody fucking hell! They place wedding ads as well?” 

“Yep.” 

“For fucks sake! Everything about us is already in the engagement announcement.  What more is there to say?”

“They will probably repeat some of the same stuff for those who missed the engagement announcement."

"Are you shitting me?" Benedict asked in disbelief. "The announcement takes up almost half a page - believe me, no one missed it!"

"I’ll make sure they put:  and the couple will make their home in London.”

“Thank you.  I appreciate that.  Would you like to see what my parents put in the London Times?” _And see what a proper ad should look like?_

Donna nodded and moved closer to Benedict.  “Absolutely, but could you please read it aloud to me?  I love your voice.” 

“Alright then:

 Mr. B.T.C. Cumberbatch and Miss D.M. Saint James:

The engagement is announced between Benedict, son of Wanda and Timothy Cumberbatch of London, and Donna, daughter of Antonia and Neil Saint James of New York, New York.”

 Donna waited patiently for Benedict to continue, but he didn't.  She frowned and looked at the computer screen.

"Is that all there is to it?” 

“Yeah.  Were you expecting something more along the lines of a CV?” 

“You _are_ poking fun of my parents’ announcement.” 

“Well, it is rather long and pretentious, don’t you agree?” 

Donna didn’t respond. She sat with her lips compressed into a thin line.

_Fuck me.  She doesn’t agree._   _I'll never learn to keep my damn mouth shut!_

“I love the announcement my parents posted, Benedict.  Not everyone can afford to have their engagement posted in the New York Times – with a photo.” 

“For fucks sake, Donna, your father works for them!  I’m sure it was gratis.” 

“Hmmm…you’re probably right.” 

“That little announcement in the London Times assuredly set my parents back over three hundred pounds.” 

“I just thought it would be longer, given that wordiness runs in your family.  I didn’t mean to come off as bitchy and ungrateful.” 

“That’s how we do it on the other side of the pond - Classy and _brief_.” 

“It was very nice of them.  I hope your mom cuts it out and saves it for me to put in our wedding scrapbook.” 

“I’m sure she’s gotten us our own copy.” 

“Are you hungry?” 

“Yeah.” 

Donna got up from the couch.  “I’m going to make us some pumpkin pecan pancakes.  My mom’s idea of brunch isn’t until one o’clock, and I'll never last that long without some kind of food in my stomach.” 

_Hmmm...last night she told me we had to leave by half eleven so as not to be late. So it's really one. We've got plenty of time, but I'd better apologize for being such a dick about her parents ad._

Benedict caught hold of her arm.  “Donna, I apologize for taking the piss before.  It really is a lovely article and very kind of your parents to post it.  I guess we’ll be finding out there are going to be a few cultural differences as our wedding planning progresses.” 

Just then Benedict’s Skype chime sounded.

“I bet its Mum and Dad calling before they leave for Greece.” 

“When are they going?” 

“They leave early tomorrow morning for an extended visit, according to them.  I tried my utmost to talk them around into changing their plans and coming here instead.”  
  
“Oh, that would have been so nice to have them here to celebrate Thanksgiving with us!” 

The Skype chime stopped and started up again. 

“Someone’s rather persistent,” laughed Benedict.  “Mum and Dad would have given up and texted me a message.” 

Donna scooted closer to Benedict.  “The icon is for Karon Maskill.”  _Crap.  I wonder what she wants_

“Maybe she has some invites that I need to give her a yea or nay so she can  RSVP on my behalf.”  

“You don’t need me hanging around while you two discuss business matters, so I’ll leave you two alone,” said Donna.  “I’ll be in the kitchen making our pancakes.” 

Benedict clicked on the icon and Karon’s face filled the screen. She was sitting in her home office with her hands folded primly on the desktop.   

_She doesn’t look very happy. I wonder what’s gone wrong that she’s to dress me down about?_

“Good Morning, Karon!”  Benedict said pleasantly.  “To what do I owe this lovely surprise?” 

Karon’s response was to suddenly pick up what looked like a newspaper and wave it at the screen.  Benedict could see it was a copy of the London Times.  

_Ah, she’s seen the ad announcing my engagement to Donna.  She must be calling to offer her congratulations; but somehow I sense there is more to this call than a simple ‘congratulations, Ben’._  

_“I ask you:  Why is the publicist always the last to know?”_  

“Know what pray tell?” inquired Benedict innocently.  “I haven’t spoken to any press whilst I’ve been here, with the exception of Donna’s father; but that was more pleasure rather than business…” 

Karon stabbed a manicured finger at a section of the paper.  _“I’m referring to this subtle little ad.”_  

“…though to be completely honest, it should be considered business because one could never categorize such a meeting as pleasurable by any stretch of the imagination.” 

_“What in the hell are you waffling about?”_  

“I was referring to when I had lunch with Donna’s parents last week to tell them of my intent to propose to their daughter.  It was akin to the inquisition, but you’ll be happy to hear I held my own throughout.” 

_“I don’t give a toss about what happened at your lunch.  I’m talking about the ad you placed in the London Times without thinking of informing me.”_  

“I didn’t place any ad,” retorted Benedict, trying not to laugh. 

_“You can’t stop being so damn cheeky with me, Ben.”_  

“Okay! My dad placed it.  Let me have a look at it then.  I’ve only seen a scanned copy of it.” 

Karon held the paper close to the camera.  “ _Can you see it now?”_  

Benedict smiled approvingly as he studied the ad.  “Yes.  It looks smashing.  Very traditional, don’t you think?” 

_Dad even paid extra to have it framed.  Well done him.  
_

_“It never fails to amaze me how you have such a talent for trying my patience from across the pond.”_  

“How on earth did you find it?  It’s not like you make it a habit to have a read of the announcements yes?” 

_“Eddie found it whilst searching for his niece’s announcement.  You know damn well that I never read those things unless I place them myself.”_

Benedict wagged his finger with mock sternness at her.  “Heaven forbid that you should think to check up on the personal clandestine activities of your clients. This is an excellent example as to why you’re always the last to know these things.” 

_“Sod off, Ben! This was something you needed to tell me about!”_  

“I did tell you I was going on holiday.” 

_“Yes, and that’s all you told me.  Getting engaged qualifies as one of life’s major milestones. This is a big step to take.”_  

“It certainly is.  It’s the biggest one I’ve taken so far.” 

_“I really needed to know this.  It hasn’t been handled properly.”_  

“I thought Dad did a brilliant job with the ad.  It was simple and tasteful.  I don’t know why you’re getting into a strop about it.  Had I known you preferred to place it yourself, I would have asked him not to and saved him three hundred quid.” 

_“The announcement itself is perfectly fine.”_  

“Then why are you making such a fuss?” 

_“Because you’re my client and this is news that we can use to your advantage.”_  

“I had a blast email all ready to go to share our good news with family, friends and acquaintances.  I was just about to send it when you called. Besides, I still think you’re making too much of this. I’m a little-known actor and no one gives a shit as to what my marital status is.” 

“ _That’s true, but this is why we need to make an official press release announcing your engagement.  We want people to sit up and take notice."_  

Benedict rolled his eyes.  “I don’t see what good it will do in the grand scheme of things.”

_“It will put your name out there and get you some positive publicity.  People love reading about celebrity news such as engagements, weddings, births, divorces ecetera.”_  

“I’m hardly what one would label a celebrity,”  snorted Benedict.

_“No, not yet – that’s true; but that’s our goal, Ben.  To make you into one!  We have to take baby steps, and announcing an engagement is a positive thing to promote you.  I think we should do it; but I’d like your permission to do so. Ultimately, perhaps a director or producer or talent scout will read it in one of the news outlets and remember your name and who you are and what you’ve done.  It could land you a role or two.”  
_

“Aren’t you the eternal optimist?” snorted Benedict again. _  
_

_“It also won’t hurt that Donna’s name does have a certain amount of recognition – not much; but enough that her readers should take notice.”  
_

“Ah…I see…you’re going to use Donna and her link to the Tribune as the hook.” _  
_

_“Precisely! Now, I’ve got something prepared that I’m going to read to you."_

"Go ahead.  Impress me," smiled Benedict, with a twinkle in his eyes.

_"For starters I think we should keep it short and simple."_

Benedict began to laugh.  "Yeah.  I'm all for that after reading the announcement my future in-laws placed in the New York Times.  The bloody thing almost takes up an entire page.  You must look it up – I promise you and Eddie will have a giggle over it."   

_"You should approve of this then:  
_

_I am delighted to confirm this morning's announcement that actor, Benedict Cumberbatch and London Tribune columnist, Donna Saint James are engaged to be married. Mr. Cumberbatch is the star of the new Hartswood Production series, Sherlock.  The much-anticipated series is due to be broadcast this coming year on BBC1.  Miss Saint James is known for her immensely popular Tasty Dinners column, which runs in the Sunday edition of the Tribune.”_

“Erm…its Tasty Travels, Karon,” Benedict corrected gently.

Karon’s face reddened _.  “And so it is as you rightfully pointed out. Don’t worry, I’ll ensure that I change it.”_

“Thank you. Actually, it sounds fine. I don’t have a problem with it...”

_“Brilliant!  Then I’ll send it off to the usual news outlets as soon as I ring off along with a photo of the two of you.  This not only gets your name out there; but Donna’s as well.  It’s also a good plug for the Tribune and her column – not to mention the BBC and Sherlock."_  

“…but Donna might.  Karon, I think Donna needs to be involved in this decision.  After all, she’s the bait…I mean, she’s going to be my wife; and therefore, thrust into the limelight at times if things start to happen for me.  Don’t you agree?” 

_Of that I am only too painfully aware.  Let’s hope she embraces it like a good little soldier.  Donna’s done fairly well each time she’s accompanied Ben to an event, which thank heaven doesn’t happen all that often.  I like that she takes one photo with him when they get out of the car and usually chooses to skip the wall of photographers and press lines rather than hanging around where she’s not needed and head right inside. That way I can divert my full attention to reigning Ben in before he suffers a mouth filter malfunction, which is another reason why she opts out of that. The few times she hung around she got to see first-hand what a loose cannon he can be._

“Karon?  What’s wrong?”

_The only negative side is that no one ever realizes she’s with him as his date/plus one the majority of the time.  The stock photo agencies always identify her as “plus one” or “companion” or not at all.  I’ve yet to see her name associated with his in print.  I’ve had a scant few of my fellow publicists ask if she’s his PA or a casual acquaintance, and I haven’t confirmed or denied either. They usually want to know where she got her dress.  Thank God, she's got fashion sense.  If Donna chooses to continue with keeping a low profile for the sake of her column that will make my life much easier._   _However, I need the use of her name and face now to help publicize my client!_

“Karon?  Hello?” said Benedict, leaning forward and snapping his fingers in front of the camera to pull his publicist out of her reverie. “Don’t you think Donna has every right to give input and ask her if she wants to be mentioned in a press release and have her photo shown?” 

_Oh shit!  That’s what I get for trying to slide it past him.  Of course he’ll want to consult with her. This is a right tricky business.  It can be quite the balancing act to keep client, client’s significant other and myself happy whilst trying to promote client in a positive light!  Especially when said significant other’s name is the more recognizable of the two and prefers to keep a low profile._

_“Is Donna available for a quick chat then?”_  

“Yeah.  I’ll get her.  Oh, by the way, aren’t you going to even properly congratulate me on my engagement?” 

Karon Maskill flashed a genuine smile at Benedict Cumberbatch.  “Of course, Ben.  Please accept my heartfelt congratulations on your engagement.  Donna is a lovely girl, and I’m sure you both will be very happy together.” 

_And now we’ll see just how lovely she’s going to be about this._

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I've done a little research as to what goes into filming Sherlock and have embellished it with details to fit my story line.
> 
> 2\. All the PR talk in this story is based on a bit of research with a healthy dose of fiction.
> 
> 3\. I used the real Benedict's London Times announcement and substituted Donna's name and his full initials. 
> 
> 4\. I also used Karon's real press release, but changed it around a lot in order to fit this universe. 
> 
> 5\. These were very few photos of Karon and Eddie Izzard online; but I found these. 
> 
> 6\. Next week I'll be on vacation and celebrating Independence Day, so the next chapter will be posted on July 10th. Happy 4th of July to all who celebrate!


	134. Chapter 134

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Donna's Mom gives her food for thought. Karon causes friction as Benedict decides how to officially announce his engagement. Donna gets her first lesson in Press Releases.
> 
> Note: I’ll be using ******* for things happening at the same time

  

Donna Saint James was very pleased with the golden brown color of her pumpkin pecan pancakes and was just about to plate them when her land line began to ring.  She trotted over to the phone, pancake turner in hand and looked at the caller ID to see who it was.  

_Oh, crap!  It’s Mom.  I bet she’s worried that Carly and I are going to try and cancel brunch today because of the weather and is calling to reassure us that we can make it down to Gramercy Park safely._

Donna hit the speaker button and returned to the stove and began to remove the four perfectly round pancakes from the griddle.  

“Morning Mom!” 

_“Hi Muffin, have you seen your engagement ad in the Times yet?”  
_

“I sure did, and it’s wonderful!  I felt just like we were a society couple!  I can’t thank you and Daddy enough,” said Donna as she carefully measured out four more dollops of batter onto the griddle. _  
_

_“Oh, it was our pleasure, Donna.  Was Benedict surprised to see it?”  
_

_Oh yeah.  Flabbergasted was more like it.  
_

“Absolutely.  He was very surprised.” 

_And decided to poke some fun at it._

_“What exactly did he say?”  
_

_He called it the War and Peace of Engagement Announcements; but I need to be diplomatic with my choice of words.  I don't want to hurt her feelings.  
_

“That we do it differently over here.  It seems ours are longer.” _  
_

_Let’s face it, he thought it was ridiculous.  I could see it in his eyes and the way the corners of his mouth kept threatening to curve up into a big shit-eating grin.  
_

_“Grandpa said they tend to place small ads over there, if they place them at all.  Not many people are doing it anymore – even here – but Dad and I wanted to do it.”  
_

“Well, _I_ appreciated the gesture.” _  
_

_“And Benedict didn’t?”_

The surface of the pancakes were covered with bubbles and the edges were dry.  Donna flipped them over as she pondered her response.   _  
_

“Well, I wouldn’t say that exactly.  He was just…um…well…surprised – as I said before.  He was very…surprised.” _  
_

_“I get the picture.  He thought it was over-the-top.”_

_I can't fool Mom.  She knows.  
_

“I thought he was going to laugh his ass off.” _  
_

_“It’s okay.  We didn’t do it for him, Muffin.  We did it for you.  If you’re happy, that’s what counts as far as Dad and I are concerned.”  
_

“Oh, I am, Mom!  I love the ad!  I’m going to cut it out and paste into our wedding scrapbook.” _  
_

_“Good. However, I sense there’s something else you’re not telling me.”_

Donna checked the undersides of the pancakes and decided to leave them for another minute.  _I really need to address the issue of Wanda and Tim with her.  Even if it means pissing her off.  It needs to be said, and it needs to be said by me._

“Why didn’t you guys mention what Tim and Wanda’s occupations were?  Benedict was hurt that you put in a plug for the New York Times and your law firm, but nothing further was said about his parents’ accomplishments. That wasn’t very nice!” _  
_

_“What did you want us to say about them? That they’re jobbing actors?  I guess we could have said they were in the Performing Arts. I apologize for the omission.”  
_

“You could have said they were accomplished, award-winning actors.” _  
_

_“Exactly what have they won, Donna?  Neither of them has ever received a BAFTA or an Olivier or any other acting award known to man; so what exactly should we have put down?”  
_

Donna scratched her head as she thought hard for a minute. 

_Hmmmm…I can’t come up with anything. I’ve never heard Grandpa going on about any awards that Wanda may have won, and he’d be the one to do it. Tim and Wanda are decent actors from what I’ve seen of them.  I’m sure one of them must have gotten an award for something at one time or another.  They’ve both had such long careers.  
_

“Are you sure about that Mom?” _  
_

_“Of course I am!  Are you forgetting who you’re talking to?  I know all!”_ Snickered Toni. _  
_

_Why did I even have to ask?  Thank God, Dad went out – he would be doubled-up with laughter at this conversation._

“You’re right, Mom.  I don’t think either of them has won any acting awards." 

_"Would you have preferred Dad and I put in something that wasn't true?"_

"No, of course not. I’m sorry for making a big deal out of it, but it meant something to Benedict; and I won’t have his feelings hurt.  Next time I’ll be expecting you to make equal mention of his parents.” 

_“The next time you get engaged, I’ll make sure we mention the future groom’s parents’ occupations.”_

Donna removed the pancakes from the griddle and turned off the gas.   

“Very funny, Mom!  I’m talking about the wedding announcement.” 

_“I promise to mention that the groom's parents are in the Performing Arts. I’ll also apologize to Benedict for the oversight the next time I speak with him."_

_Something tells me he’s going to bring it up before you have the chance, Mom._

_"The last thing I want is for there to be hard feelings between us."_

_Humph!  Now, she's suddenly concerned about hard feelings?  Good gravy!_

"Gosh, Mom.  It's a little late for that, don't you think?" 

Donna noticed that Toni chose to ignore the question. _  
_

_“Anyway, I was also calling to let you know that the streets are clean down here and the subways have resumed running on their normal weekend schedule,”_ said Toni. _“There’s no reason why you and Carly can’t still come over.”  
_

“It’s business as usual in the city.” 

_“You would never think we had that ice storm yesterday. Whatever snow fell will be all gone by this afternoon.”_

Donna’s cellphone began to ring on the countertop.  She picked it up to see that it was Carly. 

“Hang on, Mom.  Someone’s calling my cellphone.” 

_“I bet it’s your Dad.  He’s on his way to Ferarra’s to pick up some pastries for dessert and probably felt like chatting with you.”_

_You’re wrong, Mom.  It’s Carly trying to warn me that you’re going to call._

“Hang on.  I’ll be right back,” said Donna, placing Toni on hold. 

She answered her cellphone.  “Hello Curly Carly.  I bet you’re calling to warn me that Mom’s going to call.” 

_“Shit!  She beat me?”_

“Yep. You’re getting slow,” snickered Donna.  “We’ve already had one run in with the potential for more to come.” 

_“I dialed you as fast as I could.”_

“Mom has me on speed dial.  You probably had your cellphone off from last night.” 

_“That I did. It was upstairs, and Steve was using the landline to call his sister, Linda.  By the time I went up and turned it on, I saw that the battery needed a charge. I had no choice but to wait for Steve to hang up."_

"You could have just come upstairs to warn me." 

_"True, but it's not like you're up there alone anymore. Ben's staying there now. I felt funny just walking in on you like old times."_

"I see what you mean." 

_"By the way Steve said to tell you that he thinks it’s a good idea to take the subway down to Mom and Dad’s rather than taking one of the cars.  Do you and Ben want to come with us?”_

“Sure.  We’ll meet you in the entrance hall at twelve-thirty.” 

_“Okay.  Please try and make sure Ben’s on time.  You know how they are about being punctual.”  
_

“I told him we have to leave an hour earlier than we actually do,” giggled Donna. “My success rate with that approach has been pretty good so far. I’d better get back to Mom or do you want me to conference you in with us?” 

_“I already had my turn. Goodbye, Donna!”_

“Bye!” laughed Donna as her sister hung up. 

Donna took Toni’s call off hold.  “I’m back.  That was Carly suggesting we take the subway to you.” 

_“Great.  I’ll have everything ready for when you arrive so we can sit right down.  I know you’ll all be hungry.  I had decided to make some pumpkin pancakes because you and Carly like them so much.”_

Donna looked at the platter of pancakes she just made in despair.  _Crap!  She never makes pancakes for brunch!  it's always fritatta! Why today of all days? I guess I can freeze these and make Ben and I ham and eggs to tide us over.  
_

_“Then Dad reminded me last night we always have pasta and gravy on Sundays and what would a family get-together be without our traditional Saint James Sunday feast?  
_

_OH!  No pancakes!  She made lunch-type food!  Pasta!  Yea!  
_

_“… so I hope you all won’t be too disappointed; but I went ahead and made gravy with meatballs, sausage and braciola.  Kenny even went out and bought fresh ravioli from Russo’s this morning.”  
_

“Oh, there’s nothing like Russo’s ravioli! Benedict loves Italian food, so he’ll be happy for a chance to sample your terrific cooking.” 

_“I even made enough for Thanksgiving.”_

“So, we’re going to have our usual Thanksgiving feasts?” 

_“I love how you always refer to feast in the plural.”_

“Well, it _is_ like having two dinners, Mom.  Maybe we should discuss cutting it back this year.  It’s so much work!” 

_“It may be a lot of work; but I really don’t mind it. I actually enjoy all the cooking and fussing.  It’s worth it when I see the smiles on everyone’s faces as they taste the food.  Besides I have all of you to help me with the cooking.”_

“With all the dishes you make, you need a team of sous chefs,” teased Donna.  “If you did decide to cut back, I bet no one would even notice whether or not we didn’t have stuffed artichokes or coconut custard pie this year.” 

_“Hahaha!  That’s what you think, Donna!  May I remind you of the year when Nona decided to dispense with the lasagna course? Popi had a shit fit,”_ laughed Toni. 

“You’re right.  Carly and I must have been ten; but I remember it vividly.  Popi told her she could dispense with the turkey – as long as we had the lasagna course.” 

_“That’s why I’d never attempt to remove someone’s favorite dish. I’d hear about it.  Our family is not shy about speaking up.”  
_

“I still think it’s crazy after a while to make so much food." 

_"Everyone loves having the leftovers to take home!"_

"There's leftovers and there's leftover, Mom.  I wouldn't put having a whole other barely touched meal in the leftover category." 

_"Sure it is.  You say that because you don't like leftovers."_

"That's true.  I like to just cook enough for the meal.  Wouldn't it be nice to be able to sit back and relax and enjoy everyone's company, instead of being frazzled from all that work?  Even with us all here to help you, it's still a ton of work!  How about we take a vote this afternoon and see what Carly and Scarlett have to say?” 

_“Tell you what:  next year you and Benedict can host Thanksgiving in your home; and Dad, Grandpa and I will fly over for it.  Then you can serve whatever you want.”_

_I could see them flying over, too.  Hmmm…that’s a nice thought though.  Benedict and I hosting our second Thanksgiving together in our own home.  Jeez Louise!  That won’t work as we’ll be getting married the week afterwards.  We’ll do it the following year for sure._

“I can’t wait to introduce Benedict to Pierre,” giggled Donna.  “He’s expecting to see a miniature poodle.” _  
_

_“I’m afraid Benedict’s going to have to wait until Thanksgiving to meet Pierre,” said Toni.  “Grandpa’s taking him over to the breeder’s now.”  
_

“Is Pierre on stud duty so soon?  I thought that was nearer the end of the month.” _  
_

Toni laughed _.  “Yes, he is.  The breeder called last night to say his bitch is in heat and to bring Pierre over as soon as possible so they can mate again; so he’ll be spending the next few days with his girlfriend.”  
_

“The puppies from their first litter were adorable!” 

_“And they went for over a thousand dollars each.  You and the breeder made a nice profit.”  
_

“We sure did.  I wish my building in London accepted large dogs.  Only small pets are permitted,” Donna said sadly.  “Maybe if Benedict and I buy a home of our own, I can bring Pierre over here to live with us.” 

_“It sounds as if you’ve made up your mind to make your home in London for the time being, Muffin.”_

Donna sighed.  “Not for the time being, Mom - I’m going to be living in London permanently, which means I’m going to have to apply for an Indefinite Leave to Remain or Enter after we’re married for two years.” 

_“And in the interim you still haven’t heard back about your work visa?”_

“No.  Benedict and I are going down to the consulate tomorrow to see what can be done from this end.” 

_“I’ve been speaking with an immigration lawyer, who I’m friendly with; but he also hasn’t had much luck getting them to process it any quicker.”  
_

“I’m not worried.  I know they’ll process it sooner or later.  I can use the time to catch up with family and friends.  As a matter of fact, tomorrow night Ben and I have been invited to dine with the Brodericks at their home.  I can't wait for Ben to see the twins!  He loves kids! ”

_"He certainly does,"_ agreed Toni.  _"I actually think he'll make a very good father one day."_

"It's so refreshing to hear you actually say something positive about Benedict, Mom!" 

_"That's not entirely true, Donna.  He's got his good points, and his love of children is evident from the way he speaks about them._ _This will be his first time meeting Sarah and Matt?”_

“Yes, and he’s actually a little nervous about it.  I told him that they’re both very down-to-earth; and he’ll forget who they are after ten minutes have gone by.” 

_“That’s true.  Are you going to ask Sarah to be in your wedding party?”_

“Absolutely!  I’ve got it all planned.  I’m also asking Giada, Cousin Cheryl and my friend Michelle.  Carly will be my Matron of Honor and Scarlett a bridesmaid.  I want Melissa and Melanie to be my flower girls and Charlie to be the ring bearer, but I'll  clear it with Kenny and Scarlett first.  I think the girls will be old enough to toss around some flower petals by then, don’t you think?” 

_“I think my granddaughters will definitely be old enough to toss flower petals – it’s the stopping them that I’m not so sure about.  If Scarlett’s in the wedding party, she can keep an eye on them.  But aren’t you forgetting something, Muffin?”_

Donna thought for a minute.  “No, I think that’s everyone.  Who did you just remember that I didn’t?  Oh, if you’re thinking of asking one of Danny’s sisters, forget it – even though I still keep in touch with them!  I could never do that!” 

_“I was going to say: what about Benedict’s side of the family?  Have you thought of including any of them in your wedding party?”_

_No._

“Not really…the thought never occurred to me.” 

_“Don’t you think you should?”  
_

_Yes.  How selfish I am sometimes.  I’m ashamed for not even considering it._

“How awful was that of me not to even think of inviting any of them to be in the wedding party?” 

_“Awful enough that I’m very glad that I mentioned it. Benedict does have a half-sister and two nieces. Are you close enough to any of them to include them?”  
_

“I’ve only met his sister, Tracy, a few times.  She’s almost your age. Her daughters, Emily and Jennifer, are closer to my age.  Emily and Benedict are very close. She keeps his calendar for him.” 

_“She’s also the one who’s working for you and Carly.  Why don’t you ask her to be one of your bridesmaids?”_

“That’s a good idea, Mom.  The odds are Cheryl won’t be able to make it being she’s living in California now; but I know Emily will be thrilled – not to mention Benedict will be as well.” 

_“Here’s something else to consider:  Benedict has a godson, who by the time you get married, might be old enough to act as a ring bearer.”  
_

_I’m really on the ball today.  Another thing I never considered.  Shit.  I have to include my brother’s son in the wedding party!_

“You’re talking about Adam and Alice’s son, Jonathan.  Benedict will definitely want him to be a ring bearer; but Charlie’s my godson.” 

_“I'm always in favor of having the Best Man carry the rings.  I've seen too many ring bearers drop them.  Why not have two page boys. They can walk down the aisle with the girls.  I’m sure you can work something out.”_

“That's a good idea, Mom.  Do you think Benedict would consider asking Steve and/or Kenny to be groomsmen?” 

_“I don’t know Benedict as well as you, Muffin.  I’m sure he probably has friends that he’d want to invite, but if you ask his niece to be a bridesmaid, I think the chances are excellent that he’ll invite Steve to serve as a groomsman. Those two seem to have done some serious male bonding.”  
_

_And I did catch the dig, Mom.  You want me to know that you know that Steve has taken Benedict under his wing when it comes to dealing with you and Daddy._

“You might be interested in hearing that we’ve settled on a wedding date:  December fourth of next year.” 

_And I can just hear the wheels beginning to spin in her head.  
_

_“Oh, that’s wonderful news, Donna!  I know how much you hate hot weather.  Early December weather in Florida is ideal for a wedding and the Christmas decorations will be up!”  
_

_Shit.  I’d better tell her that there’s not going to be a Disney wedding.  Let me do it gently as she’s going to be very disappointed._

“Mom, I know this is going to come as a shock…” 

“Donna!” Rumbled Benedict’s deep baritone from the hallway. 

_Damn!  Just when I was going to break the news to Mom._

Donna could hear his hurried footsteps on the wooden floor as he approached the kitchen. 

“Are you busy?” Benedict asked as he burst into the room.  He stopped and ran his hand through his auburn curls.  There was an anxious look about him. 

_“Is that Benedict’s voice I hear?”_ Came Toni’s voice from the speaker. _  
_

_No, it’s my other lover, Mom.  Who else would it be?_

“Yes, Mom,” said Donna, making eyes at Benedict.  “He just came in the kitchen looking for me.” 

“I thought I heard you talking to someone,” muttered Benedict, looking about for the source of Toni’s voice. 

Donna indicated the land line and made eyes at him again.  “I’m talking with my mom.  She’s on speaker phone, so feel free to say hello.” 

_Oh, fuck me!  I don't have time for the pleasantries right now!_   _Mind your manners, Benedict, and show a modicum of graciousness to your future mother-in-law._   _Make Mum and Dad proud that you know how to act properly._   

“Good Morning, Antonia,” said Benedict as cheerfully as possible.  “Glad to see the ice and snow storm is over with.” 

_“Hi, Benedict.  Yeah, I’m glad too; so we can all get together today as planned.  I was just about to tell Donna that Neil’s going to invite you to come along with him and the guys to do some shopping while the women work on the menu for Thanksgiving.”_

Benedict frowned at Donna as he swiftly moved closer to her.  “What fresh hell is this?” he whispered into her ear.  

Donna shrugged. “It’s nothing awful.  Just a Saint James family tradition,” she whispered back.  “The guys go shopping while we debate on whether to make pumpkin pie or pumpkin cheesecake.” 

Benedict nodded and turned his attention to the platter of pumpkin pancakes on the countertop.  He helped himself to one and folded it in half.  

“Well, that sounds lovely then.  I look forward to it, Antonia – and seeing you all again will be a treat.” 

With that Benedict stuffed the pancake in his mouth and went to the refrigerator to get some orange juice to wash it down with. 

"Liar!” Donna mouthed at him. 

Benedict stuck out his tongue and smiled smugly at her over the rim of his juice glass.  “I need all the good will I can muster, Darling,” he purred into Donna’s ear. 

_“That’s good to hear, Benedict.  Most men hate shopping.”_

“Then I’m the exception, I suppose,” mused Benedict.  “I’m always up to having a wander around the shops.” 

“It’s not _that_ kind of shopping,” Donna said under her breath. 

Benedict gave her a bewildered look.   “What other kind is there?” 

_“Well, this will be food shopping,”_ clarified Toni.  _“You’re going to pick up some of the heavy staples for Thanksgiving Dinner along with some cheese and the wine, of course.”_

Benedict and Donna suddenly exchanged wary looks. 

_Sound the red alert klaxon!!! Daddy’s going to ask Benedict to choose the wines for our Thanksgiving Dinner. He wants to have some malicious fun at Benedict’s expense.  Not nice.  
_

_Wine shopping with that wanker?  Fuck me! What a pity we can’t split up.  I’d be perfectly happy to select the cheeses, whislt the others have a putter in the liquor shop. Well, I know enough to stand by, keep my mouth shut and let them choose which wines to buy. Perhaps I can arrange to have Donna ring my mobile, so I can pretend I have to take a call and slip out of the shop.  
_

_“So, Donna tells me you were very surprised by our engagement ad.”  
_

_Benedict shot a wary glance at Donna who made motions to cut the call short.  
_

_Donna wants me to terminate the call.  Oh, no.  I think not.  This is my golden opportunity to let Antonia know that I wasn’t entirely pleased with their snarky, copious advert.  
_

“Surprise doesn’t adequately describe what I was feeling as she read it to me.  However, verbose immediately comes to mind.  Then…” 

_“Before this goes any further, I’d like to apologize for not mentioning what your parents did for a living, Benedict.  It was a simple oversight.  Please believe me when I say that it was never our intent to offend you or make light of your parents acting accomplishments.”  
_

_Nice save, Mom.  Very smooth.  Very sincere-sounding, too.  The only thing is Benedict’s not stupid, so he realizes you’re doing some serious back-pedaling in order to keep the peace._

_Ah!  Donna got to her first.  Damn.  I really wanted to dress her down. I suppose I’ve got to shut up and be gracious about it.  
_

_“We’ll make sure to get it right when we place the wedding announcement.”  
_

_Blimey. Donna wasn’t kidding about a bloody wedding announcement!  
_

“I truly appreciate your generous offer to make amends.  The engagement announcement was utterly lovely and such a thoughtful thing to do, Antonia.  Donna and I are both over the moon with it.  We can’t thank you enough.  Please convey my thanks to Neil as well.” 

_“I will,”_ said Toni, sounding not quite convinced.  _  
_

“Erm…I don’t mean to interrupt; but Karon’s asked after you, Love.” 

_“Who’s Karon?”_ asked Toni innocently. 

_Stop playing coy, Mom.  You know damn well who Karon is.  
_

_Hard to believe Antonia doesn’t recognize Karon’s name.  She knows everything else there is to know about me.  She’s going to use this to try and find out what’s going on._

“My publicist, Karon Maskill, just called me on Skype,” replied Benedict.  “I hate to have to steal Donna away from your conversation; but we’ve business to discuss.” 

“ _Please_ feel free to steal me,” Donna whispered anxiously, pressing the palm of his hand for emphasis. “ _Please_!” 

_“Business? I thought you just said she asked how Donna was.  Is there something wrong? Is it something that may require a lawyer’s opinion?”  
_

_Donna’ s mum can be quite the pushy twat.  I need to end the interrogation now._

“Oh, something’s just come up that we’d fancy having Donna’s input on is all.  Everything’s fine. There’s absolutely nothing for you to be concerned about, Antonia.” 

_“Sometimes having a legal opinion can give a fresh perspective on whatever it is that’s…”  
_

_Not this time.  Good bye, Antonia!_

“Perhaps another time then - when your advice is warranted.  Anyway, I so hate to cut this short; Antonia, but we’ve got to ring off.  It would be terribly rude of me to keep my publicist waiting any longer than she has been.” 

_“Muffin, why don’t you put me on hold until you’re done?  I don’t mind waiting a few minutes or you can call me back.”_

“Sad to say, but I don’t know how long _Muffin_ will be.  Anyway, we both look forward to seeing you all later on.  It’s been lovely chatting with you, Antonia. Cheers!” said Benedict impatiently as he abruptly disconnected the call.  “Bloody hell!  She’s incorrigible!” he bellowed, slamming the palm of his hand on the countertop. 

“Well, she _is_ a lawyer.” 

“And very good at what she does, which is trying my patience to the fullest!  Christ, she must be fabulous to observe in the courtroom.” 

“Just remember, you’re new to the family.  Kenny, Carly and I have had her all of our lives.” 

“You owe me for coming to the rescue then.” 

“That’s right!  You’re my hero!” smiled Donna, hugging Benedict tightly around the waist.  “But you better stop calling me Muffin or I’ll be forced to tickle you into submission.” 

“It’s a risk I’m fully prepared to take.” 

“I really appreciate your taking charge and ending the call.” 

“It’s always my pleasure to be of service. I can’t tolerate seeing my damsel in distress.” 

“I’ll be sure to give you a suitable reward later on.” 

“In that case I’ll take one of my rain checks then.  You did say I had  a life time's supply yes?” 

“Yep, and I always make good on my promises, Ben Honey.  There will be a blow job in your future.” 

Benedict smiled smugly at her.  “My knob twitches in anticipation of the touch of your lips...both upper and lower sets.” 

“Umm…you’re talking about more than just oral.” 

“Yeah.  I think I might enjoy the _deluxe_ raincheck, which includes concluding the festivities with a nice shag.  I’m feeling especially randy this morning.” 

Donna placed the platter of pancakes in the warming drawer and slammed it shut, causing him to jump.  She turned to Benedict with a frown on her face. He spread his hands out helplessly. 

“Okay!  We don’t have to have intercourse if you’re not in the mood.  The blow job will more than suffice!” 

“Damn! I’m sorry that they deliberately snubbed your parents in the engagement announcement!  That was a lousy thing to do, and I told her so.” 

Benedict chuckled.  “I surmised as much when I received her apology and promise to make good on the wedding announcement.  I really don’t think it was a deliberate omission on their part and that any real malice was intended.” 

“Oh, there’s still a lot you have to learn about them, Ben Honey.” 

“Let me finish.  The more I think about this, the more I’m convinced that it was just a case of them being them.  Your parents were concerned with making sure their respective occupations received a mention.  They want to impress people. Elaborating on my parents’ occupation didn’t occur to them because they don’t consider them worthy of further mention. As far as they were concerned, it wasn’t necessary because my parents aren’t well-known in this country.” 

“And neither of us will ever really know for sure; but I do know that they won’t do it again.” 

“I appreciate that you called her out on it, Love. As far as I’m concerned the announcement business has been sorted, so let’s drop the issue.” 

“I also hate that I still have trouble cutting my mom off tactfully – it’s so frustrating!” 

“Stop beating yourself up, Donna.” 

“It’s just sometimes I need to force myself to be…firm …or…tough with her – like you just were.” 

“I was fucking rude, is what I was, Darling. You need to learn to be rude like I was only if the situation warrants it,” laughed Benedict.  “You have to try tact first.” 

“I don’t recall any tact being used once she shifted into full courtroom mode.” 

“That’s because I chose to skip over that step and go straight to rude.” 

“Well, I wouldn’t call it rude exactly…I’d call it…cheeky.” 

“Cheeky and rude are the same in my book.  Cheeky just sounds nicer to your lovely American ears.  I fully admit that I was rude to your mum; but she needs to be put in her place – just as mine does at times.  I’ll apologize to her if you think I stepped out of bounds,” Benedict offered. 

“No.  That’s okay.  Let it be.” 

“If you’re sure then?” 

“I’m sure.   By the way, you came in just as I was about to tell her that the Disney Wedding was off.” 

“Donna, why don’t you wait to tell her until we’ve got everything sorted between us.  Then we can tell them all together.  I think it’s best we present a united front.  We can do it on Thanksgiving.” 

“I see you’re looking to ruin the holiday,” sneered Donna, patting him on the back.  “Thanks!” 

“That’s not my intent at all, Darling.  Let me handle them, and I promise you all will be well.” 

“Ha!  That’s what you think!” blurted out Donna.  “You poor, innocent lamb.” 

“Okay then.  You can take charge, and I’ll sit back with some popcorn and a cold soda and watch.” 

“No, I like your idea about doing it together.  Safety in numbers.” 

“Bollocks!  Karon’s still waiting on Skype.  She must be fuming that I’m taking so long.” 

“What does she want with me exactly?” 

“Come into the lounge and find out for yourself.  It’s nothing bad, I promise,” said Benedict with a wink, leading the way out of the kitchen. 

_Hmmm…that’s what you always say when Karon wants to talk to me, and it always turns out to be something that winds up making my blood boil._

Donna touched his arm before they entered the living room.  “By the way, just so you’ve been warned, this afternoon’s male bonding field trip smells of a set up.” 

Benedict shook his head in disgust.  “The bloody wine shopping.  I had a feeling it might be something along those lines!” 

Donna nodded.  “ I’ll bet you any amount of money that my dad is going to invite you to choose the wine.” 

“He revels in my ineptitude, your father.”  _The snarky bastard._

“Maybe you can say you have a headache and beg off.  You can lie down upstairs in one of the spare bedrooms and take a nice nap.” 

“I’m sure after being in their company for a while, that’ll be true,” sighed Benedict.  

_However, a genius idea just came to me on how I can avoid being made to look the fool._

 

************************************************

Eddie Izzard peeked into Karon’s home office with Tess at his heels and raised his eyebrows questioningly at his partner. 

“It’s okay to come in.  Ben’s gone off to fetch her,” said Karon.  “He’s been gone almost fifteen minutes.” 

“It must be a huge flat,” Eddie chuckled.  “Or perhaps he’s forgotten about you.” 

“No.  That’s just the way Ben is.  He gets momentarily distracted; but he’ll be back soon.  I’ve been using the time to do some emails.” 

“It’s a beautiful afternoon, and I think a walk in Regents Park is in order and Tess here agrees, don’t you, Tess?” 

Tess barked happily at Karon.  _  
_

_“Is that Tess I hear?”_ Benedict’s deep baritone voice emitted from the computer microphone. 

Karon moved the mouse and minimized her email to see Benedict and Donna sitting side-by-side on a couch.   She smiled to herself upon seeing the recognition in Donna’s eyes as they rested upon Eddie and Tess.

 

***********************************************

 

Donna gaped at the computer screen and covered her mouth. 

_Oh my God, that’s Eddie Izzard!  I know that Ben said they’re together; but seeing him right there on the screen – standing there in an old pair of jeans and a t-shirt._

_“It is indeed Tess,”_ confirmed Karon, bending over to pick up Tess and held her so Benedict could see the tiny bulldog. Tess took the opportunity to lick her mistress’ face, causing her to giggle. 

“Hey, Tess!” said Benedict.  

“Awww…Tess!” exclaimed Donna.  “She’s such a lovable little cutie!” 

Tess paused to look at the screen and wagged her stump of a tail happily at Benedict and Donna as if she understood. 

“Tess knows who her friends are,” quipped Benedict. 

_“Anyone who shares their biscuits with Tess is automatically considered a close friend,”_ laughed Eddie.  

_“And Tess has many close friends, as I’m sure you’re prepared to imagine,”_ laughed Karon. 

_“Congratulations you two!”_ said Eddie.  _“I’m Eddie, Karon’s partner,”_ he said to Donna. 

“Thank you.  It’s nice to meet you, Eddie,” smiled Donna _._ “I’m a huge fan of your work.” 

_“Thank you kindly,”_ replied Eddie.  _“I never turn down positive feedback.”_

_I wonder if Karon could get me his autograph.  Grandpa Colin adores him and could add it to his collection._

“Thanks for the well wishes, Eddie,” said Benedict. 

_“Fuck - that bloody ring you're wearing is blinding!”_ exclaimed Eddie, pretending to shield his eyes. _“Let’s have a closer look.”_

Donna beamed and held up her hand.  “Benedict designed it!  Isn’t it beautiful?” 

_“Isn’t it just,”_ smiled Eddie.  _“Well done you, Ben. Wear it in good health, Donna.”_

Benedict smiled as a warm fuzzy feeling engulfed him.  _I love how she enjoys showing it off!_    

Karon’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped open in amazement as she stared at the dazzling diamond ring on Donna’s hand. 

_Hahaha!  Karon’s thinking: Where in the fuck did Ben get the kind of funds needed to buy the likes of that rock?_ Thought Donna with amusement.  _She also looks a little jealous if I didn't know better._

_“It’s…it’s absolutely lovely…no…it’s fuckin’ magnificent!”_ Karon blurted out.  _“Well done you, Ben!  If I ever want a bespoke ring, I now know who to ask to design it.”_

_“I think I’m going to consider switching agents, so I can get some of those high-paying acting jobs for myself,”_ mused Eddie _. “Who do you use, Ben?”_

_“The same one you use,”_ replied Karon. 

"I've gotten some plum roles thru our mutual agency true; but the pay isn't anywhere near enough to afford a ring of this caliber," Chuckled Benedict.  

Eddie pretended to look aghast.  _“So, you’ve taken up bank robbing then?”_

“Yeah right,” snorted Benedict. “We all know that I’d be an absolute rubbish bank robber! The center diamond is a family heirloom, and I just had it put into a new setting,” explained Benedict.  “Believe me - I could _never_ afford to buy a ring like this on what I make – not even in my wildest dreams – and some of those are pretty wild as I’m sure Donna can attest to, eh, Love?” 

Donna felt Benedict’s hand on her knee.  He gave it a squeeze and gently elbowed her.  She looked up to meet his ice-blue eyes, which were twinkling with mischief. 

"Yep.  They sure are," agreed Donna, winking at him. 

“Well," continued Benedict. "Maybe not wild in the usual sense one thinks of when the word wild is used...maybe more in the erotic sense of the word…or…erm…I’m not sure.” 

_“I haven’t a clue as to what you’re waffling on about, nor do I care,”_ retorted Karon. 

_I get it, Ben.  You have erotic fantasies that you and your lady love act on.  Jolly good.  I suppose it’s a good thing to have a client with a happy love life is paramount to selling the brand.  I certainly can’t have a sad-sack parading around on red carpets, like Joseph Drummond-Stewart did last year.  To be fair he had reason as his wife had walked out on him at the worst possible time – right in the middle of awards season. That was an awful couple of months until he sorted himself out._

Tess let out a yip and licked Karon’s face, causing her to giggle. 

“Well put, Tess!” smiled Donna. 

Eddie purposefully cleared his throat. _  
_

_“I appreciate that you clarified things for me, Ben,"_ said Eddie.  _"Here I thought the BBC had changed their overly-frugal ways and offered you what passes for decent pay."_

"I'm only too happy to confirm that the BBC pay is still notoriously cheap," said Benedict. 

_"That's not what you said when you were cast as Sherlock,"_ snickered Karon.  

"How do you know what I did or didn't say?" 

_"John told me.  I am part of your team after all, so he called me with the good news in the off chance I hadn’t heard, so I could prepare a press release.  He told me you were so overcome with excitement that you jumped up and down in his office and fist-pumped the air."_

Donna looked at Benedict, who was rubbing his thigh.  She noticed that his cheeks had reddened somewhat _.  Oh, I could so see him doing that!  Hahaha!  
_

_“He also said you’re being decently-compensated for Sherlock.”_

"Let's say I was rather pleased with the news," said Benedict with a smirk.  “And I’ll fully admit that the salary isn’t horrible by any stretch of the word.  It’s far better than what I’ve been getting paid.” 

Karon cleared her throat and glanced at her partner meaningfully. 

_“Excuse me, for not staying to chat; but I know Karon’s got some business to discuss.  Anyway, I’ll leave you all to it and go fetch Tess’s leash.”_

And with that Eddie took Tess from Karon, gave her a peck on the lips and disappeared from sight after exchanging a few whispered words.  Donna noticed a lingering smile on Karon’s face as she watched her partner leave the room. 

“She’s quite besotted with him,” observed Benedict quietly. 

“Wow!  I’ll say she is! Now, this is a side of Karon I’ve never seen,” whispered Donna. 

“I haven’t been privy to it all that often, but it’s always a welcome change to see there is another side to her.” 

“I was waiting for her to just tell him to get the hell out of there,” snickered Donna under her breath. 

“Eddie brings out a kinder, gentler side of Karon,” declared Benedict barely above a whisper. “Refreshing, isn’t it?” 

“I wish he could have stayed.  I like seeing that side of her.” 

Karon turned her attention back to the couple on the computer screen. She smiled widely at Donna, exposing pearly white teeth. 

_Whoa hoa!  Someone had her teeth whitened,_ thought Donna.  _I hadn’t noticed before._

"Karon, did you have your teeth whitened since I last saw you?" inquired Benedict. 

_I love how observant my client is,_ thought Karon.  _He misses nothing, bless him._ _He's only been chatting with me for the past half hour._

_"Yes.  Last week. I thought it was time for some personal appearance improvement."  
_

_The next step should be for her to hire a fashion consultant,_ thought Donna. 

“They look great, Karon!” said Donna.  “I had mine done last year and can’t believe the difference in them.” 

"Brilliant idea, Karon.  They make you look younger than your years," Benedict observed. 

_Hmmm...she's been after Benedict to do it,_ thought Donna _.  Maybe that's not such a bad idea for him to do before the wedding._

_"You might be well served to do it for yourself, Ben,"_ suggested Karon.  _"All those years of smoking and drinking black coffee stain the teeth."_

"I stopped drinking black coffee years ago, for fucks sake!"  

_"Well, the stains don't magically disappear.  You'll find it'll take years off your appearance as well."_

"My teeth have a slight natural yellowish tinge to them," Benedict said defensively. 

_"Those are stains, Ben, and actors need to have nice white smiles! Just get them taken care of for fucks sake!"_

"I'll take it under advisement then." 

_"Oh, how you love procrastinating, Ben!"_ sighed Karon, exasperation in her voice.  _"You can get it professionally done at your dentist for around five hundred quid."_

"Better still I can simply buy those trays with the gel at the chemist and do it whilst I sleep.  I bet Boots has them for twenty-five quid or less." 

_"Knowing you, you'll get sidetracked and only do half your mouth or take a shortcut."_

_Holy cow!  Their bickering gives me a headache.  Let me try the using honey approach rather than vinegar_ , thought Donna. _I'm glad I don't have to sit in on their meetings._   _She's constantly having to nag him, and he's stubborn as can be._ _It’s almost like she’s his mother, and he’s the naughty child._

Client and publicist sat and stared at each other, neither seemed prepared to back down.  

Donna tugged on Benedict's sleeve to get his attention.  "If you don't mind my saying, I think Karon's suggestion is a good one." 

"That was a _command_ , not a suggestion by _any_ definition," scoffed Benedict. 

"Think of it as an investment in your looks, Benedict," said Donna. "Actors need to be concerned with their appearance, don't they?" 

_"Absolutely,"_ confirmed Karon. 

"I don't.  Not for the types of roles I've been getting," replied Benedict. “I play more quirky characters, not romantic leading men.” 

_"A sparkling white smile is as important as having straight teeth,"_ added Karon.  _“Especially, since you aspire to be a romantic leading man one day.”_

"I had braces for fucks sake," retorted Benedict.  He pointed at the small scar on his lower lip.  "See, the motherfucking things even wounded me!  My lip got caught in the bloody things!" 

_I know!  I'll appeal to his vanity - I know he'll want to look his best on our wedding day!_

"Oh, but think how much nicer your teeth will look in our wedding photos!" exclaimed Donna. “You’ll be the romantic lead that day in real life!” 

Benedict looked at her and his mood brightened considerably at the mention of their wedding.  "If you really think it's a good idea then, I'll do it." 

"Yes, Ben Honey, I do. I'd also suggest having it properly done by your dentist rather than the do-it-yourself method. It may cost more; but I guarantee that you'll get better, longer lasting results.  You won't regret it once you've seen how nice your teeth will look." 

"I'll make an appointment with my dentist as soon as I get back then." 

_Thank you, Donna.  It took you less than a minute to accomplish what I've been trying to do in the past year,_ thought Karon. 

_“Anyway, now that the teeth whitening and the BBC salary question has been sorted to everyone’s satisfaction, I'd like to take time to offer my congratulations, Donna, and for talking Ben around into investing in his smile.  I’m very happy for you both and wish you nothing but the very best of luck and much happiness,”_ said Karon with every bit of decorum that she could muster. 

_And may we have smooth dealings as well…no scenes on the red carpets or at premieres, no breakups, no messy divorces, no sticking your nose in Benedict’s business when it doesn’t concern you which will be the majority of the time. Just leave everything to the professionals.  Your job will be to keep him happy, get his arse out of the house on time for events, smile whenever you're in public with him, look fabulous on his arm and to stay in the bloody background rather than get underfoot whenever you accompany him to events.  
_

“Thank you, Karon.  That’s very sweet of you.” 

“No one ever refers to her as sweet,” snickered Benedict under his breath. 

_“I heard that, Ben.  My hearing happens to be excellent.”_

Karon reached behind her and took a sheet of paper off her printer and held it up for Benedict and Donna to see.   

_Ah, Karon’s gone and found the announcement Donna’s parents placed in the New York Times.  She must have been bursting at the seams to have a read of it after what I said,_ thought Benedict, trying not to laugh.  _I bet she and Eddie had a giggle or two over it._

_“I just printed this off the New York Times website.  That’s quite a lovely announcement,”_ Karon said, looking it over again. 

Donna smiled with obvious pride.  “My parents placed it.” 

_“I don’t think I can recall ever seeing one quite that lengthy,”_ Karon added, casting a glance towards Benedict.  _“Eddie and I were just saying that normally, those types of announcements are issued by the Royal Family.”_

_My publicist can’t resist throwing in a bit of snark, bless her,_ thought Benedict.  _That’s why we get along so well most of the time._

_Fuck you_ , thought Donna.  _I’m getting tired of people making fun of my parents’ announcement._

“My parents placed it,” retorted Donna, clearly annoyed.  “And since they consider me their Little Princess, I guess it’s apropos that they chose to place such a lavish ad.” 

_And my darling serves the snark right back_ , thought Benedict with amusement. 

_“Touche,”_ said Karon, making an effort not to smirk.  

_She’s feisty that one.  I can only imagine the verbal sparring that goes on between her and Ben in private.  I wonder how Donna handles his penchant for always wanting to have the last word. I’d be sorely tempted to slap a muzzle on him. I thank God every night that Eddie's such an easy-going soul, bless him._

“Benedict’s parents placed one in the London Times, too, though not as…lengthy,” added Donna. 

_Please, God, don’t let Karon feel the need to answer her.  This could go on all damn day,_ thought Benedict.  

_“Have you seen it, Donna?”_ Karon asked pleasantly. 

“I’ve only seen the scanned version that Wanda emailed us.” 

Karon picked up the newspaper and held it up so Donna could view it _.  “I’ve got it right here.   I was telling Ben before that Eddie found it whilst searching for his niece’s announcement.”_

Donna side-eyed her fiancé.  _Oh, oh…Benedict didn’t think to tell Karon we were getting engaged.  I detected an undercurrent of pissyness about her, now I know what the cause is. She felt left out.  
_

_“We were quite surprised to say the least,"_ finished Karon, allowing her words to hang in the air. _  
_

_Yep.  She found out by accident. Shame on you, Benedict, for not making Karon one of the first to know._

“I was going to email you today, Karon." 

_Of course you were,”_ said Karon sarcastically.  

"Yeah…I definitely had intended to make you and John amongst the first.  You know there’s been a lot going on – Donna and I have so many things to sort out,” said Benedict, rubbing the back of his neck.  “Yeah.  Erm...It turns out wedding planning is a hell of a lot more involved than I first thought.”  He tittered nervously. 

_Knowing Benedict, he would have gotten around to it when we got back from my parents._

“ _I bet your parents are over the moon.”_

Benedict grinned.  “Oh, they are!  They’re just thrilled to the core.” 

_“So, have you set a wedding date yet?”_

“December fourth of next year,” replied Donna.  

Karon nodded and made a note on a sheet of paper on her desk.  _“Shall I make mention of that in the release, Ben?”_

Donna frowned and side-eyed Benedict.  “What release?”  

_“The press release I want to issue on Ben’s behalf announcing his engagement to the news outlets,”_ replied Karon.  _“It’s normally done with the intent of getting the client name recognition and positive attention in the press. I have a list of regular press contacts whom I email these releases to in hopes that the news will be published in their news outlets. You never know who’s going to be reading these things.”  
_

“Karon thinks it would be beneficial exposure for both of us, and I tend to agree,” added Benedict, as he crinkled his nose at her and flashed a dimpled smile at her. 

_Is that so?  I'll buy Benedict being concerned; but since when does Karon care about helping me publicize my career?  Is this part of the service when one of her client's gets engaged?  I don't need a PR person.  All I do is go to restaurants, eat and write whether they're good or not._

Donna regarded him with a raised eyebrow. “Us? How so?” 

_“Allow me to read you what I’ve prepared,”_ replied Karon. _“Ben, you'll notice that I made a couple of minor adjustments whilst you were getting Donna."_

"Go on then," Benedict prodded her, somewhat impatiently.   

_"I am delighted to confirm this morning's announcement that actor, Benedict Cumberbatch and London Tribune columnist, Donna Saint James are engaged to be married. Mr. Cumberbatch will be starring in Hartswood Productions’ new series, Sherlock, as the world renowned consulting detective.  The highly-anticipated series, featuring Sherlock and Dr. Watson in modern day London, will be broadcast in late 2010 on BBC1.  He is also been recently cast in the lead of David Scott-Fowler in the Royal National Theatre's revival of Terrance Rattigan's After the Dance, which is set to open in the summer of 2010.  Miss Saint James writes the popular Tasty Travels column, which runs in the Sunday edition of the Tribune. The couple is planning a December 2010 wedding."_

Donna barked out a laugh. “That’s pretty lengthy, Karon. You wouldn’t want Benedict to be confused with being a member of the Royal Family.” 

"Christ," muttered Benedict. “Please stop baiting her!” 

_“Is there something wrong with it?”_ challenged Karon. 

“I thought you said before that you like to keep these announcements simple.  That’s not what I’d call simple.” 

_“That is a simple press release,”_ retorted Karon. _“I’ve managed to cram all the important points into just a few sentences.”  
_

_And you’ve made certain to mention where I work and the name of my column.  It’s also the first time you’ve gotten the name of my column right, too._

“I’m surprised that you included all that information about me – being it’s supposed to be about getting Benedict the publicity."  _  
_

_OH, I think I get what she's doing and why. Karon's using my column for click bait.  She knows out of the two of us, my name will have slightly more recognition than Benedict’s.  
_

_"Your column has a wide circulation, and you have a decent-sized fan base; so your name will attract attention to Ben.  People will be curious about this actor you’re going to marry.”_

Benedict chimed in.  "Karon's just...yeah...well...you do have quite a large number of readers...and..." _  
_

“I’m being used as click bait.” 

“No!” exclaimed Benedict, looking guilty and horrified at the same time. 

_“Yes!”_ confirmed Karon.  _“That’s the idea behind it!  To create interest in Ben through you – I hope you understand the reasoning behind it.  And by giving mention to the BBC, Hartswood Productions, The National Theatre and the London Tribune, it allows them to share in this positive publicity as well.”  
_

Donna nodded.  “I see your point. Everyone gets free publicity, and hopefully, Benedict will profit by it in one way or another. That makes perfect sense.” 

Donna heard a audible sigh of relief emanate from both Karon and Benedict.  

_How about that?  They were both sweating it.  They thought I was going to try and squash it.  Why would I try and sabotage something that might help my fiancé's career?_

_Brilliant.  Now that I have Donna's blessing, dare I try and take it to the next level?_ Thought Karon. 

“Could you add a photo of us perhaps?” ventured Benedict, casting a wary glance at Donna.  His eyes shone brightly, and he reminded her of an excited puppy. 

_“That’s a brilliant idea, Ben. I have a couple of nice ones saved from the red carpets you’ve done together.  I’ll use one of those,” said Karon. "Maybe the one from the..."_

“No, you won't,” interrupted Donna, holding up her hand to silence Karon.  “You can use one of Benedict; but not of me. Please.” 

Karon sighed as if the weight of the world was on her shoulders. 

_She’s got the ring, so the little cow is feeling cocky now._

_"I don't see you getting all stropy over your parents putting in a photo of you and Ben in the New York Times,"_ countered Karon with a raised eyebrow.  _"Perhaps you can explain to me how this is different?"_

"I don't work in New York, so no one knows who I am aside from my family and friends. However, I do work in London where I have a column with widespread readership and a following - as you just pointed out.  I'd prefer to maintain a low profile to preserve my anonymity when I go out to review restaurants.  Use my name if you must..." 

"Darling, she really must use your name," said Benedict quietly.  "She can't say Benedict Cumberbatch is engaged and leave it at that." 

"She could." 

Benedict glared at her. "That's absurd!" he snapped.  "They always mention..."

_"No, I really can't, Donna,"_ Said Karon, mustering all of her self-control. _"I'm willing to forego the photograph, but your name needs to be mentioned alongside Ben's."_

"Of course it does! I was only joking," said Donna testily. "I can live with the press release, but I don't give permission for you to use my photograph." 

Karen glowered at Donna.  _How I hate concessions!   My client also seems to have lost his tongue, so I'll scrap the picture idea.  Bitch._

_I never realized just how bitchy Karon can be.  I notice my honey is sitting here not saying a word.  He must agree with her and wanted a photo of us both._

"And just for the record - my parents didn't ask me about using a photo.  They just went ahead and did it." 

Karon ignored her comment.  “I’ll use one of you alone, Ben, as this release is mainly about you anyway.” 

“May I be completely honest?” inquired Donna. 

“Please don’t,” hissed Benedict under his breath. 

Karon rolled her eyes _.  No, but you will. “Of course,”_ she said pleasantly. _“I want you to speak freely, Donna.”_

_I really don’t, but it’s the right thing to say.  If we’re constantly butting heads, Ben might consider looking for another publicist.  I need to back down a bit._

“I don’t like your press release, Karon.  The more I think about it, the more it sounds like an advertisement for all of Benedict's upcoming projects rather than announcing his engagement.  It's like the engagement is just the lead into an article about his work.  Surely there must be a way to phrase it better." 

_No there isn't, now shut up!  "Duly noted,"_ sniped Karon, clearly irritated. 

"That's because it _is_ an advert, Sweetheart," Benedict said gently.  " _Sherlock_ and _After the Dance_ are the most important and visible things I'll be doing to date, and we need to capitalize on this wonderful opportunity. Karon's just doing the job I've hired her to do, which is to promote me, and this press release that she's written is genius." 

_"I couldn't have said it better.  By announcing your engagement to the press, it allows me to add in all the other things that we want to emphasize that are going on in Ben's career. I can't stress enough that it's sole purpose is to put Ben's name out there in a positive light.  Adding in all the other mentions makes it a positive advert for you, the Tribune, the BBC, the National Theatre and the producers of Sherlock.  It's a win/win for everyone."_

"Well, I feel it should just be a simple announcement.  All that sounds so tacky and fame-whorish, pardon the expression, the more I think about it.” 

_She really needs to stop thinking,_ thought Karon angrily.  _What's that saying Ben's father always uses about thinking?_

_If Dad were here, he'd say:  That's when the trouble starts, when they think.  To be fair, this is all new to Donna._   

_“And the announcement your parents’ placed in the New York Times was nothing of the sort,”_ scoffed Karon. _“Talk about self-promotion.  Stating their occupations and places of business certainly read like an advert to me.  Why they could write press releases for me!”_

"We’ve already been over that at length,” Benedict told Karon, as their eyes met for a long moment.  Donna noticed that Karon gave Benedict a barely imperceptible nod. 

There was a pinging sound and Karon changed screens.  _“Excuse me for a tic, I just got a couple of emails that I need to read that pertain to you.”_

"Boy, she must really hate me," sighed Donna.  "I can't say that I blame her either.  I'm getting in the way of her doing her job." 

_Let me attempt to take this opportunity to clarify the situation for Donna one last time._

Benedict cleared his throat. 

“Then why don't you let her, Love.  Neither of us is looking to give you a hard time, Donna, and no one hates you.  What you’re failing to realize is that these sort of press releases are done all the time.  It's part of being an entertainer. The announcements in the New York Times and London Times were personal ads, placed by our families.  They were both intended to be the sharing of happy news with family, friends and acquaintances - and whoever else fancies reading those things. You can't stop the news outlets from scanning the announcements for news, and sometimes they pick up on them.  It's public record. The press release is business and designed to be purely an advert for me and my projects. Yeah, Karon's taking advantage of our engagement announcement so that she can spin something from it in order to help push my brand and possibly further my career. Maybe a casting director or a producer will read it and think that if I'm good enough to be the lead in _Sherlock_ or _After the Dance_ , then perhaps they might be interested in casting me in another project they need an actor for.  Do you see the difference?” 

Donna slowly nodded.  “Okay. I get it when you put it like that, Benedict.  I didn't mean to insinuate that you were being a fame-whore by using our engagement to promote yourself.”  

“Of course you did!" Benedict snorted.  "And yeah, I guess you could say that I'm being a bit of one.  Sometimes I've got to do things like this in order to further my career.  I just pray to God you'll always be there to keep my feet on the ground and call me out should  I start to act like a dick." 

Donna winked at him.  "You can count on it, Sir." 

"Splendid!”  said Benedict, rubbing his hands together. 

“I’m really okay with the press release as long as she doesn’t post a photo of me.” 

Karon’s face appeared on the screen again.   _“That was the Tribune asking me to confirm your engagement to one of their most popular columnists.  It seems they haven't been able to reach you, Donna.”_

“It looks as if the Tribune has someone scanning the Time’s engagement announcements,” mused Benedict. 

_“Who just happened to recognize the name of one of their columnists.  Have they tried reaching you, Donna?”_

“There was nothing in my emails.  However, things may have changed since then.  Let me take a look, Karon.”  Donna leaned over and took control of the laptop.  She signed into her email and saw that there were several new ones., including one from her editor at the Tribune.  “Oh! I’ve got one from Eric, my editor, asking if they can put a brief article in their entertainment section.” 

Karon grinned at Benedict.  _“Brilliant! This is exactly what we want!”_

“The timing couldn’t have been better!” smiled Benedict. 

_“This has to be addressed now, Donna, as it's already afternoon here,”_ said Karon as she typed away on her keyboard.  _"Okay, have a look at what I just sent you.  Between my statement and the information in the press release, he should be able to cobble something together."  
_

Donna and Benedict anxiously read Karon’s statement: 

**I am delighted to confirm this morning’s announcement that actor, Benedict Cumberbatch and London Tribune columnist, Donna Saint James are engaged.**

“Perfect,” smiled Donna.  “Your confirmation statement says it all.  There's no need to elaborate further.  He can get all the other info he needs from the press release.” 

“I’m fine with it,” agreed Benedict. “It’s brief and to the point.  You know,  I was just thinking, we could send him a copy of the New York Times announcement as well.” 

"There's no need," retorted Donna.  "We're not looking for a full page spread.  Just something simple...and promotional." 

"He can always do a search on the New York Times website. It's not a secret that your father works for them, which I'm sure he knows."

"He knows," admitted Donna.  "Eric's also worked with Uncle Rodney at the Times when he was a Drama Critic.  They all know each other."

"Eric may assume there will be an announcement here as well," countered Benedict. 

Karon noticed that Benedict was absently tapping his fingers on the arm of the couch, his jaw clenched. 

_Ben’s not thrilled, but she’s adamant about using – as she put it:  an economy of words.  I can understand and respect that she wants to maintain a low profile; but she’s making it difficult for me to do my job properly.  I can see Donna’s going to be a pain-in-the arse.  She’s not shy at all about voicing her opinion – whether or not I want it. I think Ben and I are going to have to sit down and have a private chat over lunch about how to best handle these issues in the future.  He’s the client and ultimately the one who has to approve all my statements.  This isn’t about her.  It does pertains to both of them – but he is my client and gets final say.  She’s just the baggage that now comes along with him. Olivia would never have butt in with her two pence, but she’s an actress and would have approved of a statement that was a bit more descriptive and using photos of them as well._

_“Shall I send this response off to the Tribune, Ben?"_

"Yeah." 

_"And as for the press release - do you fancy I send the original one I prepared or the tinkered version along with the photograph of you at the Evening Standard Awards to the news outlets?"_

“I personally prefer the photo from _The Loop_ premiere,” piped up Donna. 

Karon blinked at her and huffed as if annoyed and trying to muster her patience.  Donna felt Benedict’s ice blue eyes boring into her and cast a sideways glance at him.  

_Oh, oh.  I wasn’t supposed to answer for us.  She addressed the question to Benedict, not me.  Now, she’s pissed off.  Crap.  He looks pissed off as well.  He’s got that look in his eyes that says:  Go away, Donna; and go away quickly._

_Since when did you change your name to Ben? I’ve only been including you out of courtesy and respect for my client._

_Donna needs to step back now and allow me to handle my own business. She’s given her input already, and Karon has bent over backwards trying to accommodate her desires, whilst trying to do right by me.  Now, she needs to shut the fuck up._

Karon pointedly ignored Donna and looked directly at Benedict, who rolled his eyes.  She knew he must have been thinking the same thing. 

_“Well, Ben? It’s **your** approval I need. What shall it be then?”_

_Humph!_ Thought Donna. _She sure put me in my place.  Benedict has the final say, and I’m expected to shut up and go along with it. I also notice how he didn’t come to my defense either.  I guess he should get the final say though because it is all about him – as far as she’s concerned anyway. I saw him roll his eyes and the looks that passed between them.  I have the feeling Benedict feels the same way as she does. Karon does work for him after all, not me.  Then again, she could never work for me with that snotty attitude. I must remember to keep an open mind and pick my battles when it comes to these press announcements that pertain to Benedict’s personal life._

Benedict licked his lips, as he side-eyed Donna.  “Please send the later draft of the press release and my photo from the Evening Standard awards to the news outlets.”  _And now I can put all my energy into my plan for circumventing a disaster at the wine shop.  
_

_“Thank you, Ben,”_ said Karon with just the hint of a smug smile. _“I’m going to ring off now as the promise of a walk in Regents Park and early supper awaits. Have a lovely day!”  
_

Benedict shut down the laptop. “I think I’ve had enough email and Skype for one day!” 

“That makes two of us,” sighed Donna wearily.  

“Why so glum?  You should be happy that we were able to sort everything out with Karon.” 

“I’ve just failed Press Release 101 miserably, and your publicist was not-so-secretly enjoying every moment of it!” 

Benedict stood and held out his hand in order to help her up. “Karon’s always like that, but she does a right decent job for me. You’ll get used to her.  Shall we get going, Love?  We’ve got places to go ourselves.” 

Donna nodded and took Benedict’s offered hand. He took it and held it to his Cupid’s bow lips and kissed it gently.  She looked into his eyes, which looked green in the bright sunlight streaming through the living room windows.  

_Somehow when I look into those gorgeous eyes, it makes everything alright. However, we still have to get through brunch, shopping and menu planning with my family.  Crap!  I wish we were in Greece with Wanda and Tim instead!_

“Yep.  We’ve got places to go alright. We’re going straight from the frying pan right into the fire,” said Donna Saint James to Benedict Cumberbatch.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I did a little research into Visas and soon found myself over my head. I used what seemed to make sense for the story line. 
> 
> 2\. Joseph Drummond-Stewart is a fictional actor. 
> 
> 3\. I haven't a clue as to how much Benedict is paid for Sherlock or how reimbursement works, so I made it up to fit my universe. I have read that the BBC is not particularly generous with pay.
> 
> 4\. Again, I did a little research on how Press Releases are placed and tailored it to fit the story.
> 
> 5\. I used Karon Maskill's brief engagement confirmation statement from the real-life engagement and did a lot of embellishment.


	135. Chapter 135

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Benedict calls on his nemesis for help. Donna and Benedict read the result of the press release. The Saint James family fumes over a guest’s tardiness. 
> 
> Warning: This chapter contains bodily function discussion. You may wish to skip if easily offended. 
> 
> Note: I’ll be using ******* for things happening at the same time

 

“Benedict!  Aren’t you ready yet?” Donna Saint James called impatiently from the bottom of the stairs leading up to the top floor of her apartment.  “We’re going to be late!”

“I’m just changing into a different jumper.” 

“You were doing that half an hour ago!”

“So sorry, Darling, but I got caught up in the book I was reading.  I wanted to finish the chapter I had started, but it took a bit longer than I thought it would.”

 _Doesn’t it always take longer than he thought it would?_  

“I’ll be right down.”

_Damn it!  In spite of giving Benedict an hour’s leeway, he still manages somehow to be late.  I guess I should have stayed upstairs where I could gently prod him along rather than coming down here to pack up the muffins and start the dishwasher.  Arrgghhh!!!  
_

“I still don’t understand the need to change your sweater. There was nothing wrong with the one you were wearing.”

“I felt chilly in it.”

“That was a wool sweater!  What could be warmer than that?”

“The one I’m putting on now.”

“My parents _do_ have heat in their house.”

“I want to make a good impression is all.  You know bloody well that they enjoy taking the piss over how I dress.”

_He’s got that right.  They love poking fun at his outfits, but the first sweater was fine.  There was nothing wrong with it.  
_

“Are jeans acceptable or shall I wear trousers?”

_Jesus Christ!  He had on a pair of jeans. Note to self:  stay in the room until he’s completely dressed and ready to leave from now on.  I shudder to think what he's going to do on our wedding day. I feel sorry for whoever he chooses to be his best man.  They will have their work cut out for them.  
_

“Jeans are fine, Ben.  I’m wearing jeans.”

“Yes, the ones that hug your bum so nicely.”

“They hug my butt like that because they got a little too snug from overindulging the past couple of weeks.  I need to cut back on all the treats I’ve been cramming into my mouth lately.”

Benedict suddenly appeared on the landing at the top of the stairs shirtless.  “As long as my cock isn’t one of them,” he said with mock sternness.

“Hell no! Performing fellatio involves burning off calories, and I'm definitely in favor of burning off calories whenever I get a chance,” she smiled up at him with a flirtatious smile.

“Unless you swallow, which you usually don’t,” snickered Benedict.

“I read that a typical ejaculation has only five calories.”

“I’ve read somewhere between five and fifteen.  However, I bet you didn’t know that not only is semen low-calorie; but it’s very nutritious as well.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“One serving contains  one percent sperm; and  the rest is composed of over two hundred separate proteins, as well as vitamins and minerals including vitamin C, calcium, chlorine, citric acid, fructose, lactic acid, magnesium, nitrogen, phosphorus, potassium, sodium, vitamin B12, and zinc,” rattled off Benedict.

“You’re just making that up!”

“Nope.  If you take five minutes to do some proper research, you would see that semen is actually the perfect treat.  Much better for you than sweets,” grinned Benedict.  “Perhaps you should swallow more often and forego that slice of cake or scoop of ice cream instead.”

_If I had to live on your semen, I’d be thin as a rail. Ugh!  I have to admit it’s gotten a little more palatable since he totally stopped smoking and cut back on the coffee, but that could be my imagination._

Donna rolled her eyes. "Sometimes I can't believe the conversations we have."

"No one could ever accuse us of having boring ones yes?"

“Oh, how very, very true!  I’ll be in the living room,” laughed Donna.  “And please hurry!  Carly’s called up here once already.” 

_In the meantime, I think I'll browse the internet for wedding venues in London.  
_

*****************************************************

 

Benedict donned a heavy, cream-coloured fisherman’s knit jumper; finger combed his auburn curls and glanced at his reflection in the full-length mirror that was attached to the back of Donna’s bedroom door. 

_Well, this is as good as it gets. Thank God, I thought to shave before I started reading that damn book!  Now, to make that call before she comes up here to fetch me.  I’d best hurry as it’s just about six in London._

He fastened the black leather strap of his watch to his left wrist as Donna’s voice once again traveled up the stairwell.

“Ben?”

_Bloody hell!  It’s barely been ten minutes since she last checked on me._

“Has anyone ever told you that patience is a virtue, _Sweetheart_?”

“Yes.  More times than I can count.”

“Well, consider this just one more time to add to the pile.”

“You’re such a wise ass.”

“I’m almost done, Donna.  I’m just changing my socks.  I don’t want your family to see me wearing socks that have owls skiing on them.”

“Neither do I,” came her reply.  “I was wondering if you’ve seen my cellphone?  I’ve looked everywhere, but I can’t find it.  I could swear that I left it on the coffee table.”

Benedict glanced guiltily at her cellphone, which was lying on the dresser.

_You did, but I needed to borrow it in order to try and save face._

“Erm…so…why don’t you call it from the land line?  Surely one of us is bound to hear it ringing in the flat.”

_Let me lower the volume, so she won’t know I’ve gotten hold of it._

“Good idea.”

Benedict picked up her mobile and lowered the volume on the ringer as the phone began to vibrate in his hand.

_For fucks sake!  She’s got it set on vibrate and the highest ring tone.  
_

“Ben?”

 _For fucks sake!_    “I’m almost done.  I just have to use the loo.”

“Nothing happened when I called my phone.  Did you hear anything up there?”

“Nope. I’m sure it will turn up though.  You know it’s got to be here in the flat.”

“I’ll be playing online.  Please hurry!”

“I’ll do my best, but sometimes nature can’t be rushed.”

Benedict pressed the icon labeled ‘contacts’ and began to scroll through them until he got to the name he wanted.  He entered the number into the Skype contact list on his laptop, which he had set up on the desk in Donna’s bedroom.

 _Please be home you wanker!_   He prayed silently.  _Please don’t be out!_

 _“Hello,”_ Came the familiar monotone voice.

“Hi Frederick, this is Benedict Cumberbatch.”

_“Benedict, as in Donna’s Benedict?”_

“Yes. I’m dreadfully sorry to ring you – I hope I wasn’t interrupting your tea.”

_“No, you’re not interrupting anything.  We just got in.  Is everything alright?  I thought Donna was in New York on holiday.”_

“Yeah, she is.  I am as well. We both are you see…yeah.  Erm…we just got engaged two days ago.”

_“That’s brilliant news, Benedict! Congratulations to you both!  How very thoughtful of you to let me know.”_

“Thank you.” _  
_

_“Can I say hello to Donna?  I’d love to personally offer my congratulations to her as well.”_

“Erm…well…I can’t right now because she doesn’t know I’m calling you.”

_“Oh?”_

_Christ, I must sound like a complete nutter to him.  He knows damn well I’m not calling just to tell him we got engaged. I need to somehow dispense with the pleasantries before Donna comes up here._

Frederick suddenly cut to the quick, which surprised Benedict. _“So, to what do I owe this pleasure then, Benedict?”  
_

_Thank you, God!  He surmises this wasn’t just a social call._

“Well, I’m calling because I’m in a pickle and need your wine expertise.”

Frederick chuckled.  _“How can I be of help?”_

_I knew the wanker would enjoy hearing those words. I can just visualize that smug expression.  At least I don’t have to lay eyes upon him whilst we speak._

“I need your recommendation as to what wine would best complement a roasted turkey dinner.”

_“Not to worry, Benedict. You’ve come to the right man.”  
_

Benedict sighed inwardly with relief.  _He’s going to help me!  The wine gods smile upon me.  
_

_“Now is this for a hostess gift or something you intend to serve to guests?”  
_

_“Is there a difference?”  
_

There was a pause and what sounded like a snort on the other end. _  
_

_“Of course…”  
_

_Of course there is, Benedict you git. I can hear that maddeningly superior tone in his voice. The motherfucker delights in torturing me.  
_

_“If it’s meant to be a hostess gift, then you’ll want to spend a bit more so as to make the right impression. If it’s something you…”_

“Benedict?  Have you fallen in?” Donna’s voice floated up the stairs to him.

_Hells bells!!!  
_

“Listen! Please,” hissed Benedict in a low voice.  “I don’t have time to chat about all the social nuances of selecting a proper wine, Frederick. I’ve been invited to Thanksgiving dinner at my future in-laws and need to impress the fuck out of them.  Donna’s dad is asking me to choose the wine when we go to the liquor store this afternoon, and I want to ruin his fun – if you get my meaning.”

There was a pause. _  
_

_“I see. Let me think on this for a minute.”  
_

“Excuse me for a moment.  Donna’s calling for me.  I’ll be right back,” whispered Benedict.  _  
_

_“Take your time.”  
_

_Motherfucking time is what I don’t have!!!  Fuckity fuck fuck!  
_

“Please don’t think too long,” pleaded Benedict. “Time is what I don’t have an abundance of right now. Donna’s downstairs waiting for me, and you know how impatient she can be. I’ve got to go stall her off again.”

_And if I hadn’t started reading that motherfucking book, this wouldn’t be happening!  
_

Benedict could barely hear Donna’s footsteps on the stairs and froze in his tracks.

“Benedict? Are you alright?”

_Christ on a crutch!  Who in the hell has stairs that don’t squeak?  I could barely hear her coming up. Why do these things always happen to me?  
_

“Yes!  I mean no!  I’m fucking constipated, so could you pllleeeeaaassee practice some patience here and give me a little privacy!”

The footsteps on the stairs abruptly stopped. 

_Ah!  That gave her pause.  She’ll either go back downstairs or finish coming up to investigate and chat with me through the closed door like she’s so fond of doing._

“You’re never constipated.”

_What the fuck???_

“How would _you_ know?”

“Because we practically live together, and I know your daily routine by now.  You eat plenty of fiber and are as regular as clockwork.  You go every morning right after breakfast.”

_Do I????  Hmm…yeah, I guess I do._

“I can just about time…”

“For fucks sake!  Is nothing sacred, woman?”

“I thought nothing was sacred when it came to you.  By the way, I can hear you perfectly.  Are you in the bathroom with the door open again?”

_Ah, I know how to stop her from coming any further!  
_

Benedict smiled to himself.  “Erm…yes…I am.”

“Jeez Benedict!  The bathroom is right off my bedroom, and any…unpleasant…smells waft right...”

“I promise to turn on the fan when I’m done." 

“Ugh!  Next time try and remember to turn on the fan before you take a seat."

"I'll also make sure to use that spray stuff to freshen the air.  You’ll be none the wiser.” 

"I sure as shit hope so – pardon the pun.”

“Sorry! I thought I just had to wee, but then I got the urge to take a shit…”

“Okay!  I get the picture! I’m going back downstairs.  I’m telling Carly to head out without us.”

 _That was a genius save, Cumberbatch_ , Benedict thought to himself.  _Now, let’s see what the wine expert has come up with.  
_

“I’m back.  I had to distract Donna from walking in on us.” _  
_

_“You make it sound as if we’re having a clandestine meeting or a tryst,”_ chortled Frederick _. “Rather than asking for help in how to choose a proper wine to go with fowl.”  
_

“I’m weary of always being embarrassed that I don’t know how to choose a decent wine is all.”

_“Why don’t you just ask Donna to help you choose the wine? She really knows her wines, bless her.”_

Benedict sighed deeply.  “I suppose it’s a matter of pride.  I feel as if I should be able to master this, yet I’m a hot mess each time I find myself confronted with the wine list.  I get so stressed, I can feel myself grinding my bloody teeth!”

Frederick said nothing in response.

“Also, Donna’s father gets his jollies by ragging on me because of it; and I’m just fucking sick and tired of being taunted by him!  I’ve usually managed to get by so far, but not today. I wouldn’t know where to start, Frederick.  That’s why I’ve enlisted your assistance in helping me to not look the fool and make Donna proud of me.” _  
_

_“First of all, Donna knows and doesn’t care that you’re not a bonafide wine connoisseur.  The good news is that we can correct that. I wasn’t born with this knowledge.  I picked it up at work and decided I wanted to know more, so my girlfriend and I took a couple of courses together.”  
_

“To be honest, I don’t fancy learning about what grapes or soil each wine is derived from – I just need to educate my palate and be able to identify one type of wine from another – instead of just white from red.” _  
_

_“There’s nothing wrong with your palate, Benedict.  You know the difference between good and awful wines.  Every time I’ve served you a tasting, you have always chosen same one that I would have.”  
_

“Well, I know what I like.” _  
_

_“And you should relax and trust your instincts.  I have complete confidence that you would do yourself proud during a wine tasting.”  
_

“I’m not doing a tasting that I know of.” _  
_

_“Alright, you’ll want something not too exorbitantly expensive yes?”_

“Erm…actually money’s not a concern as I’m not the one paying this time.  Donna’s dad is, and I don’t give a toss as to how much it costs.”

Frederick let out a hearty laugh.  _“Well then. I totally understand the need to impress. Off the top of my head, I’ve got four suggestions – all of them excellent. No matter which one you pick, you can’t go wrong.  When you return to London, I’d be happy to sit down with you one afternoon and give you a crash course in wine.”_

“Brilliant!  You’re a scholar and a gentleman, and I owe you a dinner when we get back. This time I’m going to cook and serve you for a change of pace.”

 

*****************************************************

 

Donna Saint James sat on the couch in her living room, reading her emails in order to distract herself from waiting for Benedict to come downstairs.  There were more congratulatory emails from family members and friends.  However, it was an email from James Rhodes that caught her eye entitled “Congrats”.

 _Oh, this one is from James!_  

Donna eagerly opened the email and saw that it was addressed to both her and Benedict:

 

**My Dearest Donna and Ben,  
**

**I’m so, so, very happy to read your most delightful news!  I cannot think of two people better suited to each other than you two are.  Hattie and I would love to treat you to a celebratory dinner at the Truscott Arms upon your return to London.  They have a fabulous Sunday roast that I know you both will scarf down with much pleasure. Please accept our love and best wishes!  
**

**Love always,**

**James xx**

**P.S.  You’re a lucky man, Benedict.  You realize had fate gone the other way, you would be the one writing an email of congratulations to Donna and me, you motherfucker!  ;-P**

_Good gravy!  Jimmy's right.  If things had gone differently, I might very well have become engaged to him.  I’m sure that playful little jab will irritate Benedict. He was so jealous that time when he found out I was dating both of them at the same time!  
_

“So, do I pass inspection?”

Donna looked up to see Benedict standing in the doorway wearing a heavy fisherman knit sweater over tight dark rinse jeans.  His hair was attractively tousled and he smelled faintly of Attimo cologne.  She couldn’t help but beam at him.

_Holy cow!  He looks like a model.  What a shame that he has no idea just how stunning he can look._

“You pass inspection with flying colors!  You look very handsome.”

Benedict felt his cheeks getting warm at her compliment. “You won’t believe this, but I found your mobile upstairs,” he said holding up her mobile.  Then he crinkled his nose and smiled at her.  “At first I thought it rather strange that I didn’t hear it ring, but then I saw that the volume had been lowered and set to vibrate.  Strange, isn’t it?” _  
_

_I’ll say.  Not only is it strange, but I don’t believe it – especially when his statement is accompanied by the I'm-guilty-as-fuck nose crinkle. Upstairs?  I know damn well that I left it down here. I also never turn down the volume and set it to vibrate only. I shut my phone off when I don’t want to be disturbed. Mr. Cumberbatch leaves it on vibrate mode because he keeps it in his pants pocket and can feel it.  I keep it in my purse, so I have no need of that feature.  He's trying to gaslight me!  Why?_

“Where upstairs was it?”

“It was on your desk set to vibrate as I said before. I thought it odd myself that the volume level got turned all the way down.”

“Imagine that,” said Donna holding out her hands.  _Stop bullshitting me, Benedict, you took it upstairs and turned down the volume so I wouldn’t hear it ring when I called the landline._

Benedict tossed it to her.  “Sometimes the strangest things happen.”

“It’s strange alright.”

_I can tell by that sarcastic tone that she doesn’t believe me.  Fucked again and not in the style I prefer to be!_

Donna caught the phone and patted the couch cushion beside her.  “Come sit.  There’s an email from Eric that may interest you.”

“What does it say?”

“He heard back from Karon and was running a brief announcement in the evening edition, as well as a modified version in tomorrow morning’s edition.”

“Jolly good.  Did he send it to you?”

“Eric sent it as an attachment. Apparently, he composed the article himself.  He said it’s brief and tasteful, while covering all the important points.  He also said it’s a brilliant piece of publicity for you as well as my column, and Karon was over the moon and gave it her blessing.”

“Shall we have a look then?” Benedict asked excitedly, plopping down beside her.

“Sure.  Let’s see if what he put together rivals Karon’s mega advertisement.”

“Sod off, Donna,” snapped Benedict.  “You know damn well that a little publicity won’t hurt you. It will only help you gain additional readers as far as I can see.”

“I suppose you make a bonafide point.  A columnist can never have enough readers.  Maybe someday I’ll even top my rival, Jay Raynor, and be the toast of London restaurant critics.”

Donna and Benedict sat, eyes transfixed on the screen as she clicked on the attachment.  There was an article and no accompanying photographs.

“Well, he chose not to use a photo of either of us,” observed Benedict dryly.  “That should make you feel better.”

“It does though I didn’t expect that he would.”

“What page is it on?”

“He says it’s on page ten.”

“Which is far enough back that no one is sure to notice it,” commented Benedict, clearly disappointed. “Bollocks,” he muttered. “All that stress for naught.”

_Whoa hoa here!  Did he just insinuate that I caused him stress?  That’s not good.  I don’t want to cause the man I love any undue stress.  Now, I feel like a piece of crap._

“I can’t help it if that’s where the entertainment news is located. Um…Let’s compare what Eric wrote to Karon’s press release. Would you please do the honors and read it aloud in that incredibly sexy voice of yours?”  Donna smiled seductively and batted her eyelashes at him.

Benedict gave her a bashful smile as he felt the blush creep back into his cheeks.  He cleared his throat and began to read the announcement in his deep baritone:

 

**“Actor Benedict Cumberbatch's engagement to London Tribune Chief Restaurant Critic, Donna Saint James has been announced with a notice in The London Times newspaper.  The small notice appeared under the "Forthcoming Marriages" section on page 57 of today’s publication:  
**

**Mr. B.T.C. Cumberbatch and Miss D.M. Saint James:  
**

**The engagement is announced between Benedict, son of Wanda and Timothy Cumberbatch of London, and Donna, daughter of Antonia and Neil Saint James of New York, New York.  
**

**Mr. Cumberbatch stars in BBC1’s _Sherlock_ , which will offer a modern twist on Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s iconic consulting detective.  The highly anticipated series, produced by Hartswood Films, has cast _The Office’s_ , Martin Freeman as Dr. Watson and will be co-written and produced by the _Dr. Who_ creative team of Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss.   
**

**Donna Saint James writes the highly-esteemed Tasty Travels column for the Tribune’s Sunday edition.  She is currently preparing a special three-part ‘Christmas-time in New York City’ series starting next week.  
**

**Mr. Cumberbatches’ parents, the actors Wanda Ventham and Timothy Carlton are both known for their long and prestigious careers in film, television and stage.  Their son will also be starring in the National Theatre’s summer-time revival of Terrence Rattigan’s _After the Dance_.   Miss Saint James’ father is Neil Saint James, the highly-respected New York Times Art  & Leisure Editor and her mother, Antonia Mangano-Saint James is a Managing Partner in the prominent New York City Law firm of Mangano & Saint James, which specializes in Entertainment Law.  
**

**A spokesperson for Mr. Cumberbatch said:  I am delighted to confirm this morning’s announcement that Benedict Cumberbatch and Donna Saint James are engaged.**

**The couple is planning a December 2010 wedding.  
**

**P.S. I decided not to go with the photo that Ms. Maskill sent along with her press release.  I found another in our files that I felt was more flattering and will use that in lieu of it.”**

Donna gasped.  “Good gravy!  If this is Eric’s idea of brief, I’d hate to see what his long version would be like!”

Benedict nodded to himself with satisfaction.  “Interesting that he chose to  opt for a different photo of me from the one Karon sent along with the press release.  The article is just lovely. Well done Eric. Please be sure to make mention of my thanks to him.”

“I will. He even managed to put Karon’s press release to shame.”

“Karon must be doing cartwheels over this article.”

“And you’re not deep down inside? I can tell from the expression on your face that you’re on Cloud Nine.”

“I’m absolutely over the moon right now. It’s a brilliant piece of publicity!”

“Of course it is, and not only is it free publicity for you; but look at all the others who will benefit by the free plug.”

“I don’t think there’s anyone Eric missed – living or dead!” giggled Benedict. “He mentioned _Sherlock_ and everyone involved in it – including Martin.”

“I like that he included some information about our parents, especially yours.  All in all I’d say Eric did a very nice job on the article.”

“He neglected to say that your father was the former highly-respected, much-feared former Theatre Critic for the New York Times,” snickered Benedict.

“My dad still does reviews on occasion,” Donna reminded him. "I don't think he ever wants to completely stop doing them."

“All’s well that ends well in spite of a rocky start.”

“I didn’t mean to give you guys a hard time,” began Donna.

“Well, you did,” said Benedict curtly. “Sometimes you need to consider the ramifications before voicing an opinion, Donna.”

“Ha!  Said the pot to the kettle!”

“I hate to say this for fear of stirring the pot again, but…”

“Then I wouldn’t say it if I were you!”

“Why don’t you bugger off then? You’ve certainly got enough sass to spare for us both today! If that’s how you feel, then I shan’t say anything.  I’ll be having a nice, quiet brunch at Le Pain Quotidien, provided they’re open today.  I trust you can make my excuses to your family.” Benedict got up in a huff and headed for the hallway.

“Hey!  Wait for me!  Benedict!  Please!  I’m sorry for being such a bitch!”

Donna jumped up off the couch and ran after him, tripping over her handbag and landing on her hands and knees.  She could feel the burn from the rug on the palms of her hands.  “Owwww!!!!  Ouch!”  She yelped.

“Donna!”  Benedict wheeled and ran to her side. "Jesus Christ! What happened? Are you badly hurt?"

"I-I-I don't think so.  I tripped over my purse as I was running to catch you!" Donna sat back on her heels and inspected her hands. “Fuck!  I’ve got rug burns on both of my hands!” she wailed.  “Son of a bitch!”

“Are you okay other than that?” Benedict inquired anxiously, kneeling beside her. 

“Yeah.  My knees are sore as hell.  I’m afraid to look.  Hopefully, my jeans offered some protection.  I’ll just put on a cold pack for a few minutes before we go, and they’ll be fine.”

Benedict helped Donna to her feet and guided her back towards the couch.  She noticed that he unceremoniously kicked her handbag out of their path.

“Bloody hell! That motherfucking bag has got to go.  You could’ve been seriously hurt.”

“Well, lucky for me, I wasn’t.  I would also appreciate it if you wouldn’t kick my purse – even if it is a cheap knockoff.”

“I’m sorry for taking my frustration out on your bag.  Sit down, and I’ll fetch the cold pack.  I suggest you call your mum and tell her we’re going to be late.”

_Hahaha!  There’s no need for that yet.  We’ll still be on time if we can leave within the next ten minutes and the 6 Train is running without delays._

Donna unzipped and wriggled out of her jeans and sat on the couch in her panties and sweater.  Both knees were scraped and red from the fall.  One of them was bleeding slightly as well as was one spot on the palm of her right hand. 

_So much for the jeans sparing my knees!  I feel like I’m back in elementary school and fell on the playground at recess. Ugh!_

“Benedict, can you please bring me the first aid kit that’s in the bathroom.  It’s inside the vanity under the sink where I keep my stash of Disney toiletries,” Donna loudly called out to him.

Benedict poked his head back in the room.  “What exactly am I looking for? Is it something you nicked from Disney as well? Should I look for something with Minnie Mouse dressed in nurse’s garb on the lid then?”

“Very funny! It’s a small white plastic box that says Johnson and Johnson on it in blue.”

Less than a minute later, he called out to her.

“Ah, found it!  It was behind all those neatly stacked bars of Mickey Mouse bath soap that you…nicked…I mean accumulated.”

_Which I bet are no longer neatly stacked knowing him._

“Here you go!  Two ice packs for your knees and two for your hands,” said Benedict, returning with the first aid kit, two ice packs and two flannels surrounding some ice cubes.  “You only had two proper ice packs, so I improvised with these makeshift flannel ones.”

_Jeez Louise!  He used my expensive wash cloths from one of my display sets.  Okay, I need to take a deep breath and stop being so finicky.  How was he to know they were only meant for display on the towel bar? He just grabbed whatever was in front of him, which any normal person would naturally do. When Benedict sees towels, he automatically assumes they are meant to be used. I need to relax – towels can always be replaced. I need to stop being so damn neurotic about those things._

“Thanks,” Said Donna graciously as she applied the packs to the injured areas.  “This reminds me of the night at the Blackberry Bramble Inn,” she said as she removed Band-Aids and antiseptic ointment from the first aid kit. “Gosh, that seems like such a long time ago.”

“Yes, it does, but in reality it was only four months ago.  Is that why you’re stropy then?  Have you gotten your period?”

“No, but that reminds me - I do have good news for both of us on that front.  I went to my gynecologist last week while I was in town for my annual checkup, and she gave me some new birth control pills to try.  I’ll only have to deal with four periods a year!  Isn’t that great?”

“Yeah, that is,” agreed Benedict, running his hand through his hair.  “It’s a win/win for both of us then.”

“They’re samples, so I’ve got enough to last me two years according to the expiration date on the packages.”

“And once you’ve run out, we can start trying to conceive…unless we decide to start prior to that.  If you don’t mind, I’m going to use your lap top whilst you tend to your wounds.”

“Help yourself.”

Benedict picked up her laptop and spent a few minutes doing Google searches while Donna tended to her cuts and scrapes.

“Hmmm…none of the other news outlets has picked up the announcement yet.  Just the Tribune chose to make mention of it.” 

_If Dad were here, he’d say:  Cumberbatch isn’t that well known that the press would give a damn as to whether or not he got engaged.  The Tribune was only interested because you work for them, Muffin, and it was your name they recognized, not his.  
_

“Oh, wait.  What’s this?  You’ll be chuffed to hear that the London Times has also published a small article about us in their entertainment section.  It mentions most of the same information, along with the photo Karon sent out of me.”

“I suppose Uncle Rodney had something to do with that one.  I’m sure my dad told him we got engaged, and he thought it would be nice to suggest they run an article.”

_If that’s what you’d like to think, Donna.  Go ahead.  The words ‘nice’ and Rodney Renfield should never be used in the same sentence. I’ll be a gentleman about it, as there’s been enough bickering between us for one day._

“I’ll have to agree that Renfield most likely had his hand in it, as your dad is mentioned.  It looks like no other news outlet gave a toss.”

“Ben, I wanted to say again that I’m sorry for butting in where I didn’t belong. Karon must be making a dart board with my photograph on it over the bulls eye.”

 _I wouldn’t much doubt it,_ thought Benedict.  _She must have been ranting to Eddie all afternoon, the poor sod._

“I sincerely doubt that, Darling.  To be fair, we did solicit your input and you gave it.”

“Neither of you were happy with what I had to say.”

“That’s because your opinion differed from ours, which was because you didn’t fully understand the way PR works.  Neither of us expected you to react the way you did. I truly thought you wouldn’t mind a photo being released to the press this one time being it was a major life milestone for both of us.  You’ve seen how no one has sat up and taken notice.”

_He’s right about that.  No one seemed to care aside from the Tribune and the Times.  Benedict’s been literally bursting with joy since Friday night, and I had to go act like a brat and spoil it.  
_

“I was so excited at the prospect of showing you off to the world,” continued Benedict with a tinge of sadness in his voice. _  
_

“I’m sorry, Ben Honey.  I acted like a complete jerk when it came to the photo.  You’re right – one time wouldn’t have hurt.  It would have been old news and forgotten by tomorrow.”

“Hell, it’s been forgotten about already!”

“Maybe more news outlets will pick it up tomorrow morning,” said Donna hopefully.  “I hate seeing you so disappointed.”  _Hmmm...maybe I should email Eric to go ahead and post a photo of both of us in tomorrow's edition.  It would serve towards making amends to Benedict, however pathetic._

“Part of me wanted the world to know we’re together more than anything, but I understand your reluctance to have your photo published.”

_Okay.  I'm definitely going to email Eric before we leave but I won't argue the point if he doesn't want a photo of me posted._

“I’m so out of my element when it comes to the way your world works,” declared Donna.  “I promise not to meddle in any of your PR decisions again. You need to remind me of this whenever I go off half-cocked like that.”

“Unfortunately, Karon doesn’t seem to fully comprehend how paramount it is to you not to have your identity compromised by posting your photograph.  I have to remind myself that it’s only because you strive to make sure your dining experiences in the restaurants you’re reviewing  is untainted by chefs attempting to impress you so your readers will get a true review.”

“For all the times that I’ve had my photo taken with you, I haven’t been recognized yet when I show up to review a restaurant. As you just pointed out, no other news outlets chose to run an article about our engagement other than the Times and the Tribune.  It seems strange to me.”

Benedict shrugged.  “I would think it’s because I’m not an important enough actor to warrant that kind of attention. A little-known actor getting engaged isn’t particularly news-worthy, even when his fiancée happens to be a famous food critic.”

“If I had only allowed Karon to use a photo of us, then maybe it would have caught someone’s eye.”

“Quite possibly.  Karon used your column and name recognition as click bait, which is typical PR strategy.”

“She was definitely capitalizing on my column and name. What I didn’t fully understand was that the reason Karon needed to use our photo was so people would associate you with me, thus boosting your recognition.”

“You were fairly adamant about it, so she had no choice but to back down.”

“I would’ve thought being the announcement mentioned you were starring in _Sherlock_ , you’d be all over the papers since it’s being touted as the hot new show for next year.”

“There’s never any guarantee what the press is going to do, Donna. Maybe I’ll be pleasantly surprised and find more articles tomorrow.”

“Karon was right to want to get publicity for you out of our engagement, and I was wrong to steal your thunder, as you say.  I should have let her release the photo of us both.”

_I definitely have to try and push Eric to do this.  Even a small photo.  It doesn't have to be as large as the one Mom and Dad put in the New York Times._

“We can debate the pros and cons of this all day, Darling. What’s done is done.  I do think the next time, you and I need to take a step backwards and discuss these issues before making a decision.  An extra fifteen minutes to talk it out wouldn’t have mattered. Karon blindsided us both, and that’s my fault for not telling her of my plans.  She and I could have had a strategy prepared before I left London.  Then you and I could have discussed it yesterday and I could have given her instructions based on what you and I wanted.”

_Oh, Karon would argue that point with you, Benedict.  She made it clear that it's YOUR decision, not mine.  My job is to smile and go along with whatever it is she wants to do._

“In the end it is up to you, Ben Honey.  It’s your career that needs to be promoted, not mine.”

“Had you not been involved, I would have immediately given her my blessing to run with it.  However, you were involved because you’re my life partner.  The last thing I want is to cock up your job because of mine.”

“Well, it hasn’t happened so far.  No one seems to care much one way or the other,” mused Donna.

“Erm…wait a minute.  Something just hit me.  Since when did you become the Chief Restaurant Critic for the London Tribune?”

“I’m not.  Stuart MacMillan is.”

“Eric referred to you as their Chief Restaurant Critic in the article.”

_Hmm...he did.  I just assumed it was an error or Eric is embroiled in a game with Stuart again._

“Well, he’s said nothing to me about it.”

“Do you suppose he said that just to make you sound even more important than you already are?”

“I sincerely doubt it.  Stuart’s been the Chief Restaurant Critic for the past twenty years.  He’s a legend - a legend who often likes to threaten to go elsewhere for higher pay. This might be Eric calling his bluff by scarring him.”

“Sounds like the bloke is more of a diva than a legend," quipped Benedict.  "Anyway, I think it’s worth a mention next time you see Eric.  If you’ve been promoted, you certainly should get the extra money and perks that go with it.”

“I’ll know way before I get home.  I'll know right away.  If I see Stuart's column in next Sunday's edition, then I'll know it was meant to throw the fear of God into him.  Also, someone will email me to let me know he's moved on.”

_I love how she refers to London as home._

“I owe Karon an apology the next time I speak with her.  I didn’t treat her very nicely.”

“That street runs both ways, Donna.  There was quite a bit of snark emanating from her as well.”

“It’s not easy being in a relationship with an actor.”

“To be honest, it was a hell of a lot easier when I was with Olivia. I never had to give it a second thought being she was also an actor.  Now, it’s different.  You desire to protect your identity. This is going to be a learning curve for both of us, but we’ll find a way to sort it out so we’re both satisfied.”

“You’re not angry with me?”

“No.  There’s enough blame to go around.”

“I think I’d better put my jeans back on so we can head out.”

“Such a shame, I was going to suggest we take advantage of your jeans-less condition.  All I would need is one good tug on your knickers, and we could have some much-needed makeup sex. I'll even make sure we have enough privacy,” said Benedict with a wink, as he went to the windows and pulled the blinds shut.  "Unlike your flat in London, your neighbors across the street can see in here or do you feel wanton this afternoon?"

Donna checked the time on her watch.  It was already well after noon.  “Come over here you handsome, sexy man. We’re already late as it is, so fuck the soup course.  I’d much rather fuck you.”

“I’d much rather you fuck me as well,” Purred Benedict, lifting her jumper over her head and tossing it across the room onto an armchair, followed by her bra.  “I'm in dire need of a good, hard fuck...oh my...what's this I feel.  You seem to be just as horny as I am, my Darling."

Donna felt his fingers subtly slip under her panties and begin to slowly and deliberately caress her vulva. “Let me…let me…Jesus, Benedict…ahhhh.”

“Hmm…actually I think your knickers feel more than just damp…are you that wet, Darling?”  Benedict inquired, dipping a long index finger into her vagina. “Why yes you are.  Now, what are we going to do about that?  I can’t have you in such a state.”

Donna felt him insert another finger and begin to move them in and out while stroking her swollen clitoris with his thumb.  “God almighty…I need to call my mom and tell her something…”

Benedict slowly removed his fingers and deliberately licked her juices off of them.  Their eyes locked, and she could see his pupils were fully dilated. “Mmm…I love how you taste, Darling.  Will you let me go down on you?” 

“Yes! Yes! Yes!  You can do anything you want to me, you sexy bastard!  I can't stand this maddening throbbing in my clit!”

Donna nodded her head vigorously and watched as Benedict stood, her eyes glued to the prominent bulge in his jeans. "That looks very uncomfortable."

"It is getting extremely uncomfortable.  I need to be set free, Darling."

She reached out and stroked the bulge instead, causing him to groan loudly.  Benedict held her hand in place and stared down at her. He rocked his hips so he was able to grind himself against her hand.  "Christ, that feels amazing," he gasped, pressing harder against her hand.  "I need to lie down.  My knees are getting weak.  Ahhh...that feels so fucking good."  Donna could feel his penis twitch as his erection strained against the denim.

“Can you feel the affect you have on me?” he asked in a low, throaty voice. “I’m so stiff with desire that I need to be inside you right now.  I long to feel your slick, velvety warmth surrounding my dick.”

“I need…I need…besides you…I need to call my mom and tell her that something unexpected came up.”

Benedict brusquely brushed her hand away and hastily unzipped his jeans.  He gave her a lewd grin as he pulled his erect penis from his pants.   “I wouldn’t say this was unexpected, Love.  Not with you sitting there in those wet lacy, sexy knickers that are just begging to be pulled off.  As you can see something is definitely up and hopefully coming soon.”

 

*********************************************************

 

“How long are they going to be?” demanded Neil Saint James.  “They’re already forty-five minutes late!”

“What exactly did Donna say, Sweet Potato?” Toni asked Carly. 

“She just said Benedict was running late, and we should come here without them,” replied Carly.  “She didn’t offer any other explanation.”

“Gee, what a surprise!” scoffed Neil.  “Cumberbatch has only been on time once since I’ve met him, and that was when he met us at Asiate.”

“This is going to screw up our afternoon plans,” sighed Toni. “It’s a good thing I didn’t cook the ravioli. I suppose I can hold off a little while longer.”

“What’s going on guys?” asked Kenneth Saint James from the doorway.

“We’re debating on whether to play Clue or Scrabble,” snapped Carly.

“Why so snotty to your brother, Carla?” demanded Neil.  “That wasn’t warranted.”

“Sorry, Kenny.  We’re talking about Donna’s being late and holding up lunch,” explained Carly.

“Donna’s never late,” Kenny remarked.  “It’s very unlike her.  She’s obsessed with being on time.”

“Not since Cumberbatch came into her life.  The man has no conception of time, nor does he care,” spat Neil.  “I can just see him being late to his own wedding.”

“Let’s hope not,” retorted Toni.

“Donna had told him to be ready an hour before we needed to leave, which she claims usually works,” explained Carly.  

“Well, it obviously didn’t work this time,” observed Toni. “I wonder what befell him today.  The last time it was because he had to take a call from his agent.  The time before that it was a stalled tube train in between stations.”

“Ben’s a nice guy; but I don’t know how Donna copes with his always being late,” said Carly.  “I’d kill him.  Thank God, Steve is Mr. Punctual.”

“Mom, I hate to interrupt this fascinating conversation about Ben’s tardiness; but Scarlett sent me in to tell you that your grandchildren are well past their normal lunch time. We need to get some food into them before we have cranky kids on our hands.  Not to mention Steve has finished off the melon and prosciutto, so I’m getting cranky myself.”

“I say we start without them,” said Neil.  “I’m starving as well!”

“I’m with you, Dad,” agreed Carly.  “My stomach is growling.”

“We certainly can’t have the kids going hungry on Benedict’s account,” said Toni.  “All in favor of eating without them:  say ‘aye’.”

“Aye!” came the unanimous response.

“Kenny, tell Scarlett to get the kids seated at the table; and we’ll be right in. Carly, can you please plate the soup?  Dear, can you please slice the bread and bring it in the dining room along with some butter?  I’ll start cooking the ravioli in the meantime.  Kenny, you’re in charge of getting the drinks on the table.”

“Will do, Mom,” teased Kenny with a mock salute. “Do you want me to try calling Donna to see where they are?” 

“I don’t see the need,” Neil replied for Toni.  “We’ll put theirs aside, and they can eat whenever they get here.”

Toni rolled her eyes as she addressed her son. “Please, give her a call, Kenny.  It’s imperative that I get them out of here early, so I have ample time to prepare the guest room for Benedict’s parents.  They’re arriving on the first flight over from London tomorrow morning.”

Neil snickered as he sliced the loaf of crusty Italian bread.  “Don’t mind your mom, Ken, she’s been prepping that room for the past three days.”

“I want to make sure everything is warm and welcoming,” retorted Toni, tossing a tablespoon of salt into the large pot of simmering water on the stove.  “I just have to put fresh linens on the beds and add a few little touches in the room.”  She placed the lid on the pot so it would come to a boil faster.

“I thought we already did that,” sighed Neil.  “The bathroom’s been outfitted with our fanciest guest towels and special high-end toiletries that we went traipsing all over town for.  They even get the Charmin quilted toilet paper!  We don’t even use that brand.”

Carly burst out laughing.  “Mom!  That’s really over the top – even for you!”

“I just want them to feel at home,” insisted Toni, looking miffed. 

“Believe me, Sweet Potato, I’ve been a guest in their home; and this guest room is far nicer than their home,” snorted Neil, arranging the thick slices of bread in a wicker basket lined with a linen napkin.

"But did they have quilted toilet paper?" laughed Kenny.  'That's the burning question."

"Of course not!" laughed Neil. "Only your mother would go out of her way to make sure they have quilted toilet paper. I’m afraid they won’t want to leave after spending two weeks at the Saint James Hotel.”

“Wanda deserves nothing but the best!” chimed in Colin Saint James, entering the kitchen with an empty platter.  “The room looks cracking, Toni.  I just went up there to check on things.”

“Jesus Christ,” Neil muttered, rolling his eyes at Carly. “You would think we were about to have a visit from President Obama and the First Lady, not two jobbing actors.”

“I’ve been sent in to collect the bread by Scarlett.  The twins are starting to whine,” said Colin.  “Can I take this in yes?” he asked Neil referring to the basket, as he set the platter in the sink.

“Yeah, Pa.  Please do,” said Neil.  “The butter’s in the fridge.  You can’t miss it, it’s in the shape of a turkey.”

“The kids appreciate a touch of whimsy,” retorted Toni.

“What they appreciate is having something to eat,” countered Neil.

“Dad, can you take in these two plates of soup.  That way Scarlett can get them started,” said Carly.

Neil, Colin and Kenny disappeared into the dining room, leaving Carly and Toni alone in the kitchen.

“I have to ask you: what other little touches did you put in the guestroom, Mom?” inquired Carly, as she ladled some of the homemade chicken escarole soup with tiny meatballs into a soup bowl. 

“Oh, nothing worth mentioning,” replied Toni.  “Just a couple of small creature comforts.  Honestly, Carly, I haven’t really gone out of my way.  I’d do the same for any house guest.”

“Ha!! That’s rich!”  Neil barked out a laugh as he entered the room.  “Shall I tell her about these creature comforts, Darling Dear?”

“I thought you were going to help Scarlett get the kids settled with their soup,” snapped Toni.  “Shit!  It’s so true what they say about a watched pot never boiling.”

“Scarlett and Pa have everything under control., Toni.”

“What about Kenny?  Did he reach Donna?”

“Not yet,” replied Neil taking two more bowls of soup into the dining room.  “Ask her about the room,” he mouthed to Carly as he passed through the swinging door.

“So, exactly just what are these creature comforts that Daddy was talking about?”

“Oh, you know, just some extra plump pillows and blankets for the beds.”

“You always put those out whenever you have guests.  There must be more to it than that.”

“I went out and bought an electric kettle so they could have hot water for tea in the mornings.”

Neil entered the kitchen.  “You know how the better hotels have the little areas set aside for making coffee and tea?”

Carly frowned at Toni.  “Please tell me you didn’t.”

“She did,” confirmed Neil.  “There’s a little wicker basket next to the kettle filled with Twinnings teas bags and demerara sugar packets that were not easy to come by.”

“They’re English.  They know their tea,” retorted Toni. “It’s not like I can just give them Lipton.”

Carly laughed.  “Mom, I’ve seen Wanda and Tim drink PG Tips at Ben’s apartment.  They really aren’t all that fussy.”

“What on earth is PG Tips?”

“Their version of Lipton.”

“Pa keeps a box downstairs,” said Neil. "You prefer coffee, so you never took notice."

“Crap!  I’ll ask Pa to buy another box tomorrow while we’re picking them up at the airport.”

“I thought for sure Grandpa would want to go along so he could welcome Wanda personally,” giggled Carly.  “I could see him standing outside American Airlines Arrivals holding a banner that says: Welcome Wanda Ventham along with a big bouquet of flowers.”

“That’s exactly why he’s _not_ coming along,” laughed Neil.  “I would put nothing past your Grandfather when it comes to his beloved Wanda.”

“That reminds me, I’ve got to run to the florist first thing tomorrow morning and pick up some fresh flowers to put in their room,” said Toni.

“Do they get turn down service and chocolates before bed?” teased Carly.

Neil fixed her with a look.  “What do you think?”

“I’m just going to leave a few treats for them in the room in case they get hungry,” replied Toni.

“Such as?” pressed Carly.

“Nothing fancy.  Just a little something to nosh on in between meals.”

 “Such as?”

“Oh, the usual:  candy, cookies, nuts, cheese and crackers.  I brought up  Kenny’s old dorm refrigerator to put in the room.  That way I can put in a few cans of soda, bottled water and some juices along with the cheese.”

“Let us not forget the fresh fruit basket,” said Neil.  “That won’t get filled until the last minute though.”

“Hahahah!” guffawed Carly.  “Mom, you do realize that they can just come downstairs and help themselves in the kitchen if they get hungry.  It's not like this is one of those English manor houses and the kitchen is far away from the living area.”

“The Cumberbatches love their snacks, bless their hearts. Wanda’s one of the few people I know who actually keeps candy in her candy dishes!” Exclaimed Toni.  “Shit.  I forgot to get some of the Wicked Brittle."

"I really think they can survive without Wicked Brittle," scoffed Neil.

"Mom, I really think Wanda and Tim are fully capable of coming down here should they get hungry."

"They may feel shy about coming downstairs and helping themselves.”

Carly and Neil burst out in fresh peals of laughter.  “If it’s one thing I’ve learned about Wanda – it’s that she’s not shy,” giggled Carly. “There isn’t a shy bone in the woman’s body.”

“She’s also nosy just like Ben and Donna,  so I guarantee you that she’ll be downstairs snooping around the kitchen,” added Neil.  "What in the hell were you thinking, Darling Dear?"

“I think it’s important to be hospitable to Donna’s future in-laws,” insisted Toni.  “I go out of my way just the same whenever Scarlett’s parents come to visit.”

“Not like that!” countered Neil.

"Not even close, Mom!" agreed Carly.

“They’ll never want to leave the blasted room,” Neil griped.  “I’m surprised you didn’t go out and buy them robes and slippers.”

“I trust they’ll bring their own,” sniffed Toni.

“No, I think you didn’t want to guess their sizes and be wrong,” laughed Neil.  “I doubt Wanda could wear a one size fits all.  They always cut them too small as is.”

“I’m glad Grandpa didn’t hear you say that, Dad,” admonished Carly, wagging a finger at Neil.  “He would not take kindly to that crack.”

“Thank you for reprimanding me, even if it is true.  Come on, Toni.  There's more.”

Carly regarded Neil with a look of disbelief.  "More?  What else did you leave them?"

“An assortment of DVDs, books and magazines in case they get bored. Aside from that, the room is the same as always.  Do you think a bottle of wine is appropriate?  How about picking up an extra bottle just in case, Neil.”

“No problem. That's an excellent idea, Dear.  I’ll let Cumberbatch pick it out being it’s for his parents.  He just won’t know it’s for them.”

“Mom, the Four Seasons doesn’t have such luxurious guest rooms, and I've stayed their with Steve for one of our anniversaries,” joked Carly.  “I can’t wait to go upstairs and have a peek at the Saint James Hotel's deluxe guest room.”

Kenny stuck his head into the kitchen.  “I just spoke with Donna.  They just came up out of the subway and are on their way.”

 

******************************************************

 

Benedict Cumberbatch and Donna Saint James turned right onto East 21st Street.   The quaint tree-lined street featured with well-maintained townhouses of varied architecture.  Benedict could see a gated park situated in between East 21st and 20th Streets.   There were also some apartment buildings interspersed in the area that also appeared to be lovingly preserved. 

“Welcome to Gramercy, which is known for being one of the quietest and safest areas of the city. We’re almost there.  Our house is in the middle of the block, right across from the park,” said Donna.  “They call this Gramercy Park North rather than East 21st Street.”

“I assume that’s the famous Gramercy Park then,” said Benedict as they drew closer to the gated area.  “It looks lovely. Can we go have a quick look around?”

“Not unless we have the key to get in.”

“Bloody hell!  I had no idea your parents lived in such a posh neighborhood.  I knew the area was nice; but a private park?  I thought anyone could go in and have a wander about.”

“Only residents can use the park.  A key can be purchased for an annual fee,” replied Donna.  “I’ll take you inside after lunch if we have time.  I know you’ll love it!”

“Is your church close by as well?  I’d fancy seeing it whilst I’m here.”

“Yeah.  It’s on Twenty-Second Street and Second Avenue.  They have the most beautiful pipe organ!  We went to their school, so I’d love to show it to you as well.”

Donna stopped in front of a well-kept, Greek revival townhouse. The house was five stories, and there was evidence of plantings on the roof top indicating a roof garden.  The ground floor apartment had a separate entrance, and there was no garage.

“Here we are! Home sweet, home!” she announced with pride. 

Benedict looked over the property with an appraising eye.  “Wow, wow, wow!  This is very nice indeed, but such a big house for only two people.” 

“The house has been divided into three apartments.  Kenny, Scarlett and their kids live in the apartment that makes up the fourth and fifth floors along with the roof garden.  My parents live in the apartment that takes up the second and third floors.  Grandpa Colin’s apartment in on the first floor.  There’s even a full basement, which is half finished and the other half is used for storage.  Wait until you see the backyard! It’s quite large for New York City.”

“May I ask how your parent came to afford such a splendid abode?”

“This is the house my dad grew up in.  It originally belonged to Grandpa Colin and his late wife.  After Mom and Dad got married, they moved into the apartment on the first floor; but once us kids came along, Grandpa and Grandma insisted on switching apartments so my family would have more room.  They had tenants on the upper floors, so they gave them notice once the leases expired; and it was converted into a three-family dwelling. My mom’s brother, Frank and his family lived in the apartment that Kenny currently lives in until he decided to buy a house and move to New Jersey.”

“Is that Colin’s flat then?” Benedict asked pointing to the ground floor flat.

“Yep, but he also has access to the main house via a door and set of stairs inside his apartment.  Carly and I used to sneak down there and pour our hearts out to each other in that stairwell whenever we didn’t want Mom and Dad to hear our conversation.”

“I bet Colin was privy to your midnight confessions,” giggled Benedict.

Donna fixed him with a horrified look.  “Oh, God.  I never even considered that.”

_Crap!  Carly and I used to talk about sex and our boyfriends…Jeez Louise.  Some of those conversations were pretty explicit. How embarrassing is that if Grandpa ever overheard us talking?_

“I really doubt that Grandpa Colin would eavesdrop.  He’s not the nosy type.  His motto has always been live and let live.  He would never do that.”

“Never say never. You thought my mum was such a saint,” laughed Benedict. “A lot you didn’t know until you got to know her better.”

 _And there’s a lot you don’t know about her either, Ben Honey.  She's like a spymaster; and may you never find out,_ thought Donna Saint James as they mounted the steps to the front door and rang the doorbell. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Happy Early 40th Birthday to Benedict!
> 
> 2\. I have only seen Grammercy Park looking in through the fence from the outside. It's a lovely little park.


	136. Chapter 136

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Benedict consoles Donna after their visit to the British Consulate on Monday morning. Neil is suspicious of Benedict’s new-found wine knowledge. Tim and Wanda arrive in New York. Wedding plans begin to take form. Benedict makes a suggestion that brightens Donna’s day. 
> 
> Note: I’ll be using ******** to indicate things happening at the same time.

 

 

Benedict Cumberbatch was thankful that Donna Saint James waited until they got into the lift at the British Consulate before dissolving into tears. He was also thankful that they were the only ones inside the lift as he pulled her against him and enveloped her in a tight embrace.

“I can’t believe it can take up to another six weeks to process my Work Visa renewal even with the expedite fee!” Donna sobbed.  "I thought for sure that would move it along more than that!"

Benedict gently lifted her chin so he could look at her.  “It’s much better than having to wait twelve yes?”

“I really was hoping that I could fly back with you on Saturday." 

“Well, you can’t come back with me; however, that expedite fee is still going to cut back on the wait substantially.  Unfortunately, there’s a backlog; but at least your position in the queue has significantly improved.”

“This means we won’t be able to spend our first Christmas together – unless you can fly over,” Donna blubbered, burying her face against his chest again.  “I was soooo looking forward to the holidays! This sucks!”      

Benedict racked his brain, trying to imagine his calendar.  “I should have free time in between Christmas and the New Year, so I’ll check my schedule and then look into booking my flights tonight.  Will that make you feel better?”

“Yes,” came the muffled reply against his chest. "But what if you buy tickets, and I get my renewal earlier?"

"I'm sure I can use them for another time; but first I really do have to check my schedule."

"Okay," came another muffled reply against his chest. 

Benedict pulled out his handkerchief and offered it to her.  “We’ve reached the ground floor, time to clean up your face, Darling.  Your adoring public awaits!” he teased.

“Thank you,” sniffed Donna, still shedding tears as the door to the elevator slid open.  The four people waiting to board looked at them questioningly.

“Come.  Let’s sit for a minute whilst you compose yourself,” suggested Benedict as he led her from the lift over to a waiting area.  He scanned the grouping of seats and chose a couch farthest away from the prying eyes of the three women staffing the reception desk and the security guard.  “We’ll have a bit of privacy here.”

They sat down and Benedict wrapped his arm around Donna's shoulders as she dabbed daintily at her eyes.  His heart ached from seeing her so disappointed, and he could feel a lump form in his throat.

_It truly pains me to see her so dejected. Hold it together, Benedict.  This is hardly the time to fall apart.  You need to be strong and supportive._

“You have snot sliding down your upper lip,” Benedict pointed out, trying to make light of the situation. "You don't want to drip on your lovely coat."

Donna quickly wiped her nose and blew it.  “Thank you. Jeez, I must look awful.”

“You look like someone who’s upset over the outcome of her appointment.”

“I would have thought an expedite fee would have cut off even more time.”

“They did say it might go faster.  It all depends upon how quickly they can process the backlog. Look at the bright side; we were also able to sort out which type of Visa you’ll need to allow you to stay in London once we’re married and provide you with access to coming and going without any hassle.  It will be much easier to process, according to the guy we just spoke with, and Dennis’ law firm should be able to help with that.”

Donna opened her purse and pulled out her cosmetics bag.  She took out a small compact and examined her face in the mirror.  “God bless whoever invented waterproof makeup.  They should be commended!” 

Benedict sat patiently as Donna performed a couple of quick touch-ups.  Once she was satisfied with her appearance, she returned the cosmetics bag to her handbag.

"I've been thinking just now.  Please don't book any flights to New York, Benedict."

_What the fuck?  I thought she wanted me to come for Christmas!_

"Erm...why not?"

"Because it's going to cost a fortune to fly that time of year."

"The motherfucking money isn't important.  Being together is."

"We have Skype.  It's like being together."

"You know damn well that it's not.  It's a piss-poor substitute for being together."

"It's better than nothing. I'll manage.  My family will distract me.  I was just having a moment of selfishness, but I'm okay with staying now. You really need to save your money, Ben Honey.  You've spent so much already."

“You said last week when we were chatting on Skype that you didn’t mind being stuck here for the holidays.  Why the sudden change of tune?” he inquired.

“I told you.  I was being selfish."

Benedict fixed her with a look.  "I'm not buying into that.  Something happened to change your mind."

"We got engaged.  Now, there are so many things to do.  We’ll need to look at wedding venues once we got back, so we can finalize our plans.”

“Erm…we can’t look at venues unless we know what it is we want, Donna.”

“True.”

“Perhaps we can discuss that over lunch.  Tell me, what is your favourite restaurant to have lunch in?”

“Bar Americain, but it’s tough to get in without a reservation.  There are lots of business people and tourists all the time, but we might be able to just walk in if we get there when they open."

“Would you mind if we ate at the bar?"

"Not at all."

"What time do they open?”

“Eleven-thirty.”

“Fancy an early lunch then?  We only had toast for breakfast.  I certainly have an appetite.”

Donna laughed.  “I can always eat so no problem there.”

“Let's take a cab so we'll be there when they open.  With any luck we should be able to snag a table or space at the bar before the lunch rush begins.”

 

****************************************************

 

Wanda Ventham and Timothy Carlton’s flight from Heathrow had arrived at JFK on time; and they had gone through Immigration, Baggage Collection and Customs in seemingly record time. 

“Well, I could actually say that was a pleasant experience,” quipped Timothy as he rolled the baggage trolley towards the exit to the Arrivals Lounge.

“How do I look?”

Timothy stopped and looked her over.  “I think you look very well-rested.  How do I look?”

“Like you didn’t get a wink of sleep.”

“I was enjoying the in-flight entertainment.  There were two films that I hadn’t seen.”

"I just wish the food had been better."

"The food was rubbish as always.  I'm glad you thought to get a bite to eat at Heathrow before we boarded the plane."

"At least the biscuits, fruit and cheese were edible. There was also nothing wrong with the bottled water and soda."

"I hope Donna's mum has something tasty planned for lunch," remarked Timothy.  "I've worked up quite an appetite from all that film viewing."

"Aren’t we supposed to let them know once we cleared Immigration?”

“Yes, and I did that whilst you were using the loo to freshen up and change your blouse.  Neil texted me back that he’s waiting in the Arrivals Lounge and not to rush.”

“Oh, I thought the plan was for him to collect us at the kerb.”

“That was the original plan, Commander.  Neil specifically said the last time we spoke that he’d use the car park, so we could give us a hand with the luggage.”

“That was very kind of him.”

“Yes.  So far we’re starting out on the right foot.  Let’s see if it continues,” said Timothy, as they entered the crowded arrivals lounge.

"I sense a 'but' hanging in the air."

"I still don't trust the wanker. This is all just too good to be true, if you know what I mean."

“I do know exactly what you mean."

"Then what in the fuck are we doing here, Wanda?  Oh, that's right...you coerced me into coming."

"No one held a gun to your head, Tim. We're here for our son. Now, enough with the snarky insinuation and let’s soldier on."

"I'm here to simply follow instructions and do your bidding, Commander.  Please feel free to do what you do best: command."

"Notice that I'm officially choosing to ignore those last comments.  Let's stand off to the side and see if we can spot him or Toni,” suggested Wanda, smoothing her hair.

“Toni won’t be difficult to pick out.  Just look for someone wearing every piece of jewelry that she owns,” quipped Timothy.

 

****************************************************

 

Neil Saint James had been reading a copy of the New York Post, when his father anxiously tugged at his sleeve.

“What is it, Pa?”

“What do you think could be keeping them?  The Flight Arrival Board lists their flight as having arrived almost forty-five minutes ago,” said Colin, glancing anxiously towards the doorway Wanda and Timothy would come through. 

“Have you forgotten that it takes time to go through Customs, Pa?  Not everyone belongs to the Trusted Traveler Program like we do.”

“I had suggested they look into it on their end.  You save so much time.”

“Not everyone is a seasoned traveler like you.”

“I’m going to suggest taking Wanda up for a ride in my plane one afternoon next week,” said Colin. "I'm sure she'll be very impressed with the view of New York City."

“What about Tim?”

“It’s only a two-seater,” retorted Colin.

“Hmm…I seem to recall four seats the last time I was in it...especially since Toni and Charlie were with us.”

“You may be right.  It’s been awhile since I’ve taken her up.”

Neil fixed his father with a look.  “I don’t call last week ‘awhile’, Pa. You know damn well that you have to invite Tim as well.  It wouldn’t be right. He’s her husband, and you can’t exclude him.”

“I suppose.”

Neil’s cellphone began to ring.  “And that must be Toni again."

"She's quite the anxious one isn't she?" laughed Colin.

_And you're not, Pa.  Hahaha!  My dad is just as impatient as my wife, albeit for different reasons._

"Hello, Toni.  No, we haven't seen them yet.”

_“Flight Status shows that they got in ten minutes early.”_

“Patience, Dear. As I just reminded Pa, it takes time to go through Immigration.  Then they have to wait for the luggage, and you know how American Airlines doesn’t excel in quick off-loading.  I would allow for a least an hour before I send out a search party.”

_“That is always the choke point.  Baggage reclaim.”_

"True. American's baggage reclaim seems to take forever.  They could take a lesson from Jet Blue.  We rarely wait more than twenty minutes when we fly into Orlando."

“Humph! As a former AA employee, I think I take offense at that remark,” snapped Colin.

“Oh, Pa, you’re retired now.  Please don’t take it personally,” laughed Neil.  “Did you finish your last minute errands, Toni?”

_“Yes!  It’s actually a good thing I didn’t come after all.  I just realized that I have time to stop at the Union Square Green market before heading home.”_

“I thought you were done shopping.”

_“I want to pick up a quart of that spiced grape juice and some of those cheddar jalapeno scones.”_

"Do you still think it's a good idea to take in from Katz's for lunch?  Kenny has court this morning and offered to pick up sandwiches on the way back and drop them off.  Unless you think...."

“I see them!” exclaimed Colin, jumping up from his seat and buttoning his jacket.  "Is my tie straight?"

"Yes.  You look very dapper, Pa." Neil frowned as his eyes searched the crowd.  "I don't see them."

“Over there!  They just came through the doorway!  Quick as you can, Neil!  We don’t want to keep Wanda waiting!” 

_Heaven forbid we keep Wanda waiting.  Pa would let poor Tim wait all day; but not his Wanda,_ thought Neil with amusement.  

_“What was Pa saying?”_ asked Toni.  _"I couldn't quite hear him."_

“The Cumberbatches have cleared Customs and have just entered the lounge apparently.  Pa’s dashed off to greet them.”

_“He must be so excited!  I love how he wore his best suit to meet them.”_

“You mean to meet _Wanda_.  If it had just been Tim, he would have worn his jeans and flannel lumberjack shirt,” laughed Neil.

_"If it had just been Tim, Pa wouldn't have come with you."_

"True. Have you heard anything back yet from Donna about her visa?”

_“Benedict texted me. They paid to have it expedited, which will cut off a few weeks; but Donna’s devastated at the idea of having to spend the holidays here. Benedict was going to take her out to lunch in order to cheer her up.”_

“Normally, it wouldn’t have bothered her at all.  Normally, she’d be thrilled to have the extra time here.”

_“Things are different now, Dear.  Our daughter has a fiancé and a wedding that she’s anxious to start planning.”_

“She doesn’t need Cumberbatch to do that,” quipped Neil sourly. “However, to be fair the man should have a say as it’s his wedding too.”

_“Neil, you heard her yesterday when she was talking with Scarlett.  Donna told her that Benedict was determined to be completely involved in every step of the planning.”_

“I must have been on auto-pilot after that disappointing visit to the liquor store.”

_“That’s why you miss things.”_

“When the subject of Cumberbatch comes up, there are some things I try not to hear.  By the way, I would love to know how the son of a bitch managed to select such fine wines.”

_“Dumb luck?”_

“There’s no way in hell that Cumberbatch knew to pick those particular wines unless someone helped him; and please don't tell me that he just picked them on the fly because I don't believe that for a minute.”

_“Donna must have coached him.  It's the only thing that makes sense.”_

“No way!  Did you see the look on Donna's face when she read the labels?  Our daughter was as floored as we all were.  I wish you had been in the liquor store to see Cumberbatch in action.  The jerk was so damn confident as he sashayed up and down the aisles making his selections.  It was as if he had done it all his life.  The owner assumed he was a wine connoisseur and treated him accordingly.  I wanted to wipe that smug look off his face whenever our eyes met.  The jerk was really enjoying himself."

_“The man is an actor Darling Dear, and a very convincing one.”_

“Donna was so proud of him, I thought she was going to pat him on the head and give him a cookie.  Cumberbatch had help and it wasn’t from our daughter.”  _  
_

_“Then it had to be his partner-in-crime, Steve, by process of elimination.  Those two have gotten very tight.”_

“No way."

_"Never say never."_

"Steve is very predictable. He prefers to choose wines that he’s had before.  He never ventures out of his comfort zone.”

_“You’re right.  I’ve also noticed that they are always from the same vineyard in the Napa Valley that he and Carly had visited.”_

“That’s because it’s what he likes.  At least their drinkable.  The wines Cumberbatch picked were not from California.  They were very fine Italian wines. Just wait until you see the bill. I had been looking forward to watching him go down in flames, but the bastard ruined my fun; and the worst part of it was that he knew it!”

_“I’m sure Benedict didn’t do it intentionally, Neil.”_

“Of course he did!”

_“I think he was eager to impress you is all.  Benedict was just showing off some newly-acquired knowledge.”_

“I think he suspected that I was going to put him on the spot and took the necessary precautions in order to save face.”

_"Actors are natural people pleasers.  I work with them every day.  Benedict's goal is for you to like him, Neil."_

"Then Cumberbatch is wasting his time as that's a goal he'll never reach."

_“Wine aside, I was thinking that we could take the girls and fly down to Disney for a few days.  I’m sure Carly can arrange her schedule so she can stay on a little longer. Benedict's niece and Maria seem to have everything under control in London.  That way we can all help Donna with the wedding planning. She can contact Benedict for his inputs via Skype.”_

“That’s provided Cumberbatch agrees to a Disney wedding.  What if Donna happens to change her mind?"

_“This is our daughter we’re talking about, Neil Saint James.  The one who envisions a wedding in the Disney-version of Agrabah according to Carly.  Oh, wait!  I just had a wonderful idea!  We can take Wanda and Tim along with us.  I’ll see if I can get two connecting rooms at the Grand Floridian with our vacation club points.  That way we’ll be next door to the Wedding Pavilion!  What do you think?”_

“I think you need to see what Donna and Cumberbatch come up with first. I’ve got to go, Toni. Pa just gave Wanda her flowers, and Timothy looks as if he just got slapped in the face.”

_“Flowers?”  
_

“Yeah, Pa asked me to stop at a florist on the way; so he could greet her properly.”

_“For the love of God!  You’d think she was a world famous movie star.”_

“To him, she is. It is having the desired affect, too.  Heads are turning and people are whispering and wondering who she is.  Wanda, of course, is eating it up.”

_“I love it! How cute is Pa?”_

“He’s so cute that Tim looks as if he’s been sucking on a lemon.  You know he doesn’t care for when Pa fawns all over Wanda, and from what little I can see from here he's doing major fawning.  Let me go so we can avoid possible fisticuffs.”

_“Good idea. The last thing we need is for them to be seen fighting in the airport over an aging starlet.  Call me when you get to the garage.”  
_

“Will do.  If they should want tea, just make sure to serve them the Twinning’s loose-leaf Earl Grey that Pa left on the countertop beside the teapot.  He bought it especially for you-know-who.”  
  
_"It's going to be a long two weeks, isn't it?  I fear we're going to get tired quickly of hearing all about how wonderful Wanda is."_

"You're the one who was so gung-ho on inviting them."

_"Please remind me why I did that again?"_

"You wanted them to be able to share in their son's happiness and for us all to bond as one big happy family.  Pardon me while I go and puke."

_"I did want that - and I still do.  I'm just hoping Pa chills out a bit and realizes she's just a regular person."_

"Fat chance of that happening.  Remember, he's been planning that meet and greet at his club."

_"Oh, he's so looking forward to that.  I hope they agree to go."_

"Trust me, Wanda will be so flattered that she'll definitely go.  Tim, I'm not so sure about.  He'll figure he's only being asked as a courtesy.  Wanda's the real draw."

_"I disagree!  Your dad said there was a lot of interest in Tim among the ladies."_

"Jesus Christ.  It is going to be a hellish two weeks."

_"How about if we make a pact - no more complaints."_

"Fine, and I'll hold you to your end of the bargain.  Have Kenny pick up the sandwiches and get mustard and half sours on the side along with a few Coney Island-style knishes.  Pa will text you once we've come out of the tunnel."

 

**************************************************

 

Wanda Ventham was the first to spot Neil Saint James sitting on one of the hard plastic chairs seemingly involved in an animated conversation on his cellphone.  As soon as he spied Wanda and Timothy, Neil raised his hand in greeting and rose to come greet them.

“There’s Neil!” declared Wanda.  “He’s sitting right there in the third row of seats, facing this way.  I thought Toni was going to be here as well.  He seems to be alone.”

Timothy's hazel eyes suddenly landed on the dapper figure cut by Colin Saint James, who was wearing a nicely-fitted, three-piece suit and carrying a large bouquet of mixed flowers.  He stood by patiently as the crowd filed past him as he waited for Timothy and Wanda to reach him. 

_Crikey! Is that the father I see, standing to the left holding one of largest bouquets of flowers that I’ve ever seen? Yes, by God, its Colin – all spiffed up in his Sunday best, too, the wanker._

Wanda heard Timothy huff in annoyance suddenly.  “For fucks sake!  It looks as if Neil brought the welcoming committee with him.”

“Hells bells! Whatever are you huffing and puffing about, Tim?  We’re expecting Toni to be with him.  She hardly qualifies as a whole committee!  Where do you see her?”

“I’m not referring to Toni! Is your range of vision that narrow?  Look right in front of you, woman!  The president of the US Chapter of your fan club is here to greet you, and no one thought to notify the paparazzi!”

“Oh, stop that, Tim!  I think it very sweet of Colin to come along to greet us!”

“He’s here to greet _you_ , not me, Pet. It’s a damn good thing that you thought to touch up your makeup and hair prior to coming out here.”

Timothy felt Wanda slightly elbow him.  "Oh, that's such rubbish, Tim!  Of course he's come to welcome us both," she scolded him.  "Stop being so stropy.  I think it was lovely of him to come with Neil."

Wanda's eyes finally lighted upon Colin Saint James, holding a huge bouquet with one hand and waving excitedly with the other in order to get her attention .  The older man was impeccably attired in a natty three-piece bespoke suit and was smiling adoringly at Wanda as she made her way towards him. Timothy felt another twinge of jealousy as he watched his wife’s face light up at the sight of the still-handsome older man. 

_I’m surprised the wanker didn’t bring along a bloody marching band and a banner proclaiming that actress, Wanda Ventham, has graced these shores.  Fuck me._

“Oh, Wanda, how very lovely to see you again!” Colin said loudly as he rushed up to her.  “Please allow me to help you with your luggage.”

_For fucks sake!  I’m the one struggling with the motherfucking luggage trolley,_ thought Timothy. _She’s just carrying her handbag!  
_

“Neil! Quick as you can!  It’s not good manners to have our famous guests waiting!” called out Colin, looking towards the crowded lounge and waving his son over.  “Welcome to New York, Wanda!” he gushed, handing her the flowers as he double-kissed her on both cheeks. “It’s not every day that I get the opportunity to properly welcome a celebrity such as yourself,” he said loudly.

Timothy felt himself openly flinch at Colin’s words.  _Celebrity?  Now, my wife has acquired celebrity status?  What fresh hell is this?  Could the old boy have said that a little louder?  Not all heads turned. We should have confided in Benedict, and he could have come to collect us without all this motherfucking hoopla!_ He watched in silence as Wanda threw her shoulders back and held her head high as she noticed all eyes on her, as she tossed her hair and smiled coquettishly.

“Oh my! They’re beautiful!" Thank you, Colin!" exclaimed Wanda dramatically as she inhaled the scent from the flowers.  "How very, very thoughtful of you, Colin!” she gushed, batting her eyelashes.

"How very, very thoughtful of you, Colin! " Timothy mimicked Wanda under his breath in disgust.  _Has my wife lost her fucking mind?  Oh, how she's eating this up!_

“Is there something in your eye, Love?” snarled Timothy.

  _And I went through the trouble of finding a motherfucking florist who would deliver a single rose to my wife every Monday for the duration of our stay.  How can that compare to this bush? He must have gathered up everything in the blasted flower shop!_

"Oh, we must certainly mark such a momentous occasion, don't you think?" exclaimed Colin, pulling a small camera out of his pocket.  "Tim, would you mind terribly?" he asked, passing the camera over to a fuming Timothy.

_For fucks sake?  What fresh hell is this?  I love how my wife is sidling over to cozy up to him._

"I'm going to have this framed," said Colin, snaking an arm around Wanda's waist as they both gave a toothy smile for the camera.

Timothy grudgingly snapped the picture and handed the camera back to Colin, who immediately inspected the photo and showed it to a giggling Wanda.  He noted that some of the other passengers had noticed the older man’s outburst and were wondering out loud who Wanda might be. 

"Brilliant!  You don't age, Wanda!" said Colin with a huge smile.  "Thanks, Tim."

"You're welcome," Timothy acknowledged grudgingly.   "We don't need the paps, he's got me to toady for him as the official photographer of the Wanda Ventham Across the Pond Tour," he huffed under his breath so only Wanda could hear him.  To his further annoyance, she tossed her hair and cast a flirtatious smile back at him.  _Bloody hell!  My wife is really enjoying all this attention.  Wait until we're alone.  I'm going to have a word with her about her ridiculous behaviour.  I will not be made to feel the fool!_

Neil Saint James rushed over and quickly hugged both Wanda and Timothy. 

“Welcome!  I hope you two had a good flight?” Neil inquired, indicating to Timothy that he would take over the pushing of the luggage cart.  "Let me drive for awhile, these things can be a pain in the ass to push when there's a lot of luggage on them."

“Yes, the flight was actually turbulent-free, which always makes for a pleasant flight,” replied Timothy.  “Wanda got some sleep, whilst I read and watched some films.”

“The food wasn’t awful either for a nice change of pace,” added Wanda.  “Though I could go for a little something.”

“Toni will have lunch ready by the time we get back,” said Neil.  “Provided we don’t hit any traffic.  I’ve got the car parked right outside the door.  It’s the pearl white Lexus SUV. We lucked out and caught someone leaving as we pulled in.”

“I can’ wait to see Benedict’s face when he finds out we’re here,” laughed Wanda.  “We told him we were going to our holiday home in Greece; but you never know with him.” _  
_

“Does our son still not suspect anything?” asked Timothy. 

Neil opened the trunk of the SUV and unlocked the doors with his remote.  He began to remove the suitcases and bags from the luggage cart and hoist them into the car as Timothy looked on.  “Donna certainly hasn’t said anything, and she’s every bit as nosy as he is.”

_Did he just call our Ben nosy?_ Thought Wanda, glancing over at her husband with amusement.  _That was very cheeky of him.  
_

Timothy rolled his eyes at Wanda and laughed good-naturedly. “We don’t call him Barrister Ben for nothing.”

“And we don’t call her Sherlock Holmes for nothing,” laughed Neil. _  
_

“The lad still seems to be in the dark, which is exactly what we want,” replied Colin, opening and holding the door to the rear passenger compartment open for Wanda to climb in.

“That’s good to hear,” remarked Timothy.  “We look forward to seeing his face on Thursday in all of its baffled glory.”

“Oh my!  These SUVs are so high!” giggled Wanda.  “It’s a good thing I didn’t wear a skirt or you’d be able to see straight up to my knickers.”

_For fucks sake!  Wanda’s acting like an ass ever since she deplaned. No more drinks for my wife on flights.  The wine seems to have loosened her tongue a bit, and the old boy is just loving every second of it._

“Be right there, Pet,” said Timothy as he began to head over to assist Wanda. However, he stopped dead in his tracks upon seeing that Colin hadn’t budged from Wanda’s side.

“Allow me!” said Colin, holding her hand and making sure Wanda was seated comfortably in the back.  “There!  How’s that?  Are you comfortable, Ms. Ventham?  It’s a long ride to the house, and I want to make sure you’ve got ample room and are absolutely comfortable.”

“Shall we stock up on some snacks then?” muttered Timothy.  “We wouldn’t want to risk Ms. Ventham starving between now and then.” _Are you comfortable, Ms. Ventham?  I think I may puke right here in the motherfucking car park,_ thought Timothy, fuming.

Neil looked up from the trunk of the car upon hearing Timothy’s words. _For God’s sake!  I wish Pa would cease and desist with the fawning over Wanda.  Tim’s not taking it well._

“It’s not _that_ long, Pa!”

_I didn’t think so_ , thought Timothy _.  I’ve been to New York City many times before, and it’s not all that long of a journey.  The wanker is making it sound like it’s going to be an epic car trip for fucks sake!_

“This time of day, it’s maybe forty minutes all told if I take the Midtown Tunnel,” Neil added as an aside to Timothy.

“Oh, yes!  I’m quite, quite comfortable.  This is such a lovely car!  I bet it was pricey!”

“It’s a luxury brand, but all I do is pay a monthly fee to garage it. Donna and Carly gave it to us,” explained Neil.  “It was part of the settlement from their lawsuit – I don’t know if Ben told you about it.”

“Yeah,” said Timothy.  “Ben told us all about it when we had our last Skype chat with him.”

“Donna and Carly are lucky to have gotten such a lovely home out of it!” piped up Wanda with great enthusiasm.  “I love what that decorator did with Donna’s kitchen.  The refrigerator is massive and that stove is like what you’d find in a restaurant.  I wouldn’t mind having that warming drawer and the built-in marble slab in the island for rolling out pastry.  It’s a cook’s dream.”

_Hmmm…my future son-in-law must have been giving them a Skype tour with his lap top and narrating as he went from room-to-room.  I wonder if my daughter knows he did that.  
_

“I don’t know why she’s not thrilled with the living room décor.  That painting of the rabbit is so whimsical and fits in perfectly with the colour scheme,” continued Wanda.  “I wish we had room in our master suite for a desk.  It must be nice to sit there next to the fireplace and work by the window.” _  
_

_My wife just opened her big mouth so now Neil knows Ben was giving us a virtual tour of Donna’s flat._

“And all that closet space.  Whoever designed them truly understood the importance of organization. It looks like a department store, but then Donna is always so organized as is,” said Wanda with a chuckle. “Even in her flat in London everything is just so.”

_Shut the fuck up, Wanda!_   Timothy willed her to no avail.

“Ben was right about the roof garden having a lot of potential.  No wonder Donna doesn’t fancy spending a lot of time out there.  It’s like being inside a fishbowl, especially with that apartment block on the street behind her.  I realize it’s not exactly behind her house; but it’s near enough that I’m sure the residents can see in.  My son had some lovely ideas to add some privacy up there that I’m sure Donna will adore.  Our Ben is very creative like that.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’d been inside the house,” snickered Neil, while side-eyeing Timothy.

_He surmises that Benedict was snooping around Donna’s flat and took us along so to speak. Wanda just about told him with her blow-by-blow description.  I’d better warn my son when I see him._

“Well, a virtual tour is certainly as good as having one in person,” laughed Wanda.  “I felt as if I were actually in there!  Ben didn’t miss an inch, bless him.”

_Thank you, Wanda, for confirming Neil’s suspicions.  
_

“No one could ever accuse our son of not being thorough,” quipped Timothy.

“I’m sure you’ll get a personal tour from Donna during the course of your stay,” said Neil.  “Unless you feel you don’t require one after your virtual one.”

“So, how did you happen to come by the car again?” asked Timothy, changing the subject back to the car.

“There were a total of four cars that were part of the settlement.  The girls each took one; but there were still two left over.  Toni and I took the Lexus, and they gave Kenny the Mercedes SUV.”

Timothy glared at Wanda from the back of the car as Neil finished loading their luggage into the boot.  She rolled her eyes and shrugged as if to say ‘what’s done is done’.

“Son, why don’t you hurry and close the boot as I’m sure Wanda’s starting to feel the chill,” suggested Colin.  “Shall I start it up and turn on the heat?”

“Yeah, Pa.  Thanks. Have a seat, Tim, while I return the luggage cart,” said Neil, slamming the trunk door shut and heading back to the rack where the carts were stored.

As Timothy walked around the back of the car, he found that Colin had already gone around the front and was preparing to get into the back seat beside Wanda. 

“Why not take the front seat, Tim.  There’s more leg room,” suggested Colin as he slid in next to Wanda and shut the door.  “I’m shorter than you are, so sitting behind Neil won’t bother me.”

_You’re only three centimeters shorter if that. Why not indeed?  Let’s see: Perhaps because I don’t fancy the likes of you sitting with my wife.  Too bad the motherfucker didn’t catch his head in the door_ ; Timothy fumed as he went to get into the front seat. 

Neil trotted back to the car and got in on the driver’s side, shoving the newspaper in between the console and the seat.  He could feel that his father had turned on the heat full blast in addition to the heating in the seats.

“Jesus, Pa.  Are you trying to roast us up here?”

“I just want to make sure Wanda’s all nice and toasty.  Are you feeling warm yet, Wanda?”  Colin asked.

"My bum is certainly feeling the warmth!" giggled Wanda.  "I do love the heated seats!"

“I think I’m just about medium rare,” mumbled Timothy in disgust.

“I’m turning it down a bit, Pa,” said Neil.

“You see those two vents down below, Wanda?  You can adjust them to control the heat,” said Colin.

“Brilliant!  I’m starting to sweat my arse off it’s so hot in here!” exclaimed Wanda, fanning herself with her hand and unbuttoning her coat. 

Timothy pulled down his sun visor and pretended to look at Wanda.  He could see that Colin looked a bit downcast.

_Hahaha!  That backfired, didn’t it just?_   Thought a delighted Timothy.

“Fancy some chilled water?” asked Colin.  “There’s a bottle right there in the cup holder by your elbow.  Shall I open it for you?”

_Bloody hell! I’d love nothing more than to open it and pour it over his fucking head,_ thought Timothy.  _That'll cool the Lothario down._

“Oh, yes, please!” replied Wanda.  “Some cold water would do rather nicely, thank you.”

Colin smiled proudly and uncapped the bottle for Wanda, who smiled gratefully at him as she accepted it.

"What?  No crystal goblet?" mumbled Timothy under his breath.

“Thank you, Colin.  I always have such a tough time with caps  -  the arthritis you know.”

“Oh, yes, I know only too bloody well,” said Colin.  “As a matter of fact…”

_Motherfucking show off,_ thought Timothy.  _He’s loving every second of this and so is my wife. Oh, let them discuss their ailments now.  I don’t give a toss!_

Timothy snapped up his sun visor and turned his attention to Neil.  “I see you’ve been reading the competition,” he observed, pointing to the Post’s headlines which were folded in such way that the masthead was visible.

“Any newspaper man who’s worth his salt always needs to be one up on the completion,” chuckled Neil.  “However, not one of these other daily rags can hold a candle to the New York Times as far as I’m concerned – even if I didn’t work for them.”

“I also hold the opinion that the Times has a stellar reputation,” agreed Timothy, glancing in the side view mirror.  Wanda was sitting with her hands primly folded in her lap, and Colin was looking her over as if this were his first time seeing her in person.

_The right bastard is starting to get on my nerves.  He looks at Wanda as if she were a goddess.  She’s MY goddess!_

“I need you to buckle up, Tim,” said Neil, interrupting Timothy’s train of thought.  “It’s the law in New York that front seat passengers must wear their seat belts.”

“Of course,” said Timothy, immediately complying with Neil’s request.

“Wanda, do you need help doing up your seat belt?” inquired Colin. 

“I can do it, but thank you.”

“It’s no trouble at all,” pressed Colin.  “These may be different from what you’re used to.”

“I seriously doubt it,” retorted Timothy, clearly making his irritation known.  “I’ve rented cars in other countries as well as here in the States, and the seat belts are all designed the same!”

“I think Wanda is more than capable of fastening her own seat belt, Pa,” said Neil softly, casting a meaningful look at his father through the rear view mirror. 

Colin’s face reddened.  “I didn’t mean any offense. I was only trying to be helpful, and sometimes I get carried away.”

_I’d better stop taking everything the old boy does to heart,_ thought Timothy.  _Wanda doesn’t fancy him, just his attention._ _I need to remember to use my best public school manners for Ben’s sake._

“Neither did I, Colin.  It was a long flight, and I didn’t get a lot of sleep,” sighed Timothy.  “I was too busy with that stonker of an in-flight entertainment center.”

“Ah, the new ones they just installed are brilliant,” agreed Colin.  “I find there are almost too many choices!”

“That’s true,” laughed Timothy.  “It took me nearly half an hour just to go through all the titles.”

_Argument successfully averted,_ thought Neil with relief as he backed out of the parking space.  _I need to talk with Pa and ask him to tone down the celebrity worshiping while they’re here._  

“I know Ben had mentioned something about going down to the British Consulate to see what if anything could be done about moving Donna’s work visa along,” remarked Wanda.  “Have either of you heard anything?”

Neil drove out of the parking garage and headed towards the ring road that would take them out of the airport and onto the Van Wyck Expressway.

“I haven’t,” replied Colin.

“As a matter of fact, Toni heard from your son earlier.  It seems they paid a fee to have the visa expedited, which will cut off some time; but Donna will still have to remain here for the next several weeks.”

“Oh, no!” exclaimed Wanda.  “Donna was set to fly back Saturday night with Benedict . How awful for them both!”

“Does it look as if she’ll be back in London in time for Christmas?” inquired Timothy.

“Doubtful,” replied Neil.  “I’m glad you two will be staying for the next two weeks so it will help to take her mind off it.  I’m sure she’ll want to show you all that New York has to offer during the holiday season.”

“I hope Donna wasn’t terribly disappointed,” said Colin.  “Did Toni say as much?”

“Ben intimated that Donna wasn’t taking it well but putting on a brave face, so he was going to take her out to lunch,” replied Neil.  “The chance to review a restaurant is tonic to my daughter, the food critic.”

Wanda smiled.  “That’s our Ben.  He’s always been so good at cheering people up when they’re feeling down.  I’m sure he’ll come up with something to soothe her.”

 

 *****************************************************

 

Benedict Cumberbatch heard the barely discernible click of Donna’s camera once again from behind the lunch menu he was perusing at Bar Americain.

_This was one of my better ideas to take her to lunch so she can be distracted by a review, but how many fucking photos can one take of a bloody menu?  
_

“So, what do you recommend here?” Benedict asked.  “Everything sounds yummy as you food critics are so fond of saying.”

The only response was the click of Donna’s camera.  Benedict slowly lowered the menu to find his fiancée busily snapping photos of the menu from various angles.  The large, cavernous restaurant was already bustling for just prior to noon, and the two businessmen seated at the table next to them would side-eye Donna every now and again as they discussed the project they were working on.

_I bet they think she’s a tourist taking photographs!  Hahaha!  
_

A food runner approached the table, carrying a small white ceramic bowl filled with crisps and a little ramekin of blue cheese dipping sauce.  Benedict’s mouth watered at the smell and sight of them.

“Warm house-made potato chips and hot blue cheese dipping sauce.  Enjoy!” He placed it in the center, as their server returned from the bar with their drinks.

_Oh, those smell divine,_ thought Benedict.  _I can’t wait to dive into those crisps._

“A Peach Bellini for you, Miss; and a B&T for you, Sir.  Are you ready to order?”

The waiter patiently looked on as Donna painstakingly arranged their drinks slightly to the right of the potato chips and brought the ramekin of sauce to the foreground.  Benedict caught the two businessmen watching in fascination.

“Mmm…I think we need a little more time for her to complete her photo shoot,” snickered Benedict.

Donna looked up at the server and gave him a guilty smile.  “I’ll just be a minute.”

“You’re a restaurant critic,” the server stated simply.  “I’ll be back in a few minutes to take your order.  Enjoy.”

Donna and Benedict watched as the server made a beeline for the open kitchen.  They could see him saying something to one of the expediters, who went around the stainless service counter to speak with the executive chef, who looked over towards their table and nodded.

“Well then, it looks as if we’re destined for superlative food and service today,” quipped Benedict.  He smiled and crinkled his nose at her.

“Damn!  People take photos of their food all the time!  The two women across from us are taking photos of their entrees as are the group in the booth by the door.  What did I do that was different from the others?”

“Bloody hell!  If you haven’t figured it out by now, I’m certainly not going to tell you,” snorted Benedict.  “You’re so obvious at times, you might as well hang a sign around your neck proclaiming ‘review in progress’.

Benedict reached for his drink.

“Wait!  I’m not done yet.”

“That’s exactly what I mean.”

“Seriously, what have I done to tip him off?”

“I think the notebook and pen beside your forks are what gave it away.  No one else is taking notes about the menu that I can see.”

“We could be having a business meeting or we could be tourists.  Your accent happens to be an excellent cover.”

“When other people take photos, they just take one and resume eating.  You re-arrange everything into a pleasing composition before taking a photo…and re-arrange it again.”

Donna took one more photo and picked up her pen.  “I’ve rarely had this happen to me in London.”

“That’s because you’re far more discrete in London and someone else usually takes the photos for you whilst you’re busy taking notes.”

“Well, this isn’t meant to be an actual full-blown review.  It’s just describing what we ate for my readers.”

“Am I to assume that we can sample our drinks now?”

“In a minute.”

“What about the crisps or are they still off-limits as well?  I was hoping to taste them whilst they’re still warm.”

“No, of course not!  Go right ahead and dig in. There’s no reason to wait.”

“Well, you didn’t give me the all clear signal.”  Benedict raised his glass to her.  “What should we drink to?”

“Let me just record what’s in our drinks first.”

_Silly me.  The crisps were cleared, but the drinks weren’t.  Welcome to the rest of your dining out life, Benedict.  It’s a good thing I don’t really mind when she does this, except for when I'm particularly famished - like now._

Donna began to write in her note book.  “My drink is a classic Peach Bellini with Prosecco and Peach Puree with a fresh blueberry for garnish.  Yours is a B&T, which is composed of Jim Beam bourbon iced chai tea, fresh lemon and lime juices and mint syrup.  How is it?”

“I wouldn’t know.  You haven’t given me official permission to taste it yet.”

“Sorry.  I’m done.” Donna blushed and raised her glass.  “How about we drink to good ideas?”

Benedict nodded as they touched glasses.  “To good ideas! Cheers.”

“Cheers!”  Donna sipped her drink. “Mine’s good as usual.  The puree adds just the right amount of sweetness to balance the dryness of the Prosecco.  How about yours?”

“It’s brilliant.  Would you care to taste it?”

“Yes, please,” replied Donna taking the offered glass and taking a sip.

_I remember there was a time when she would turn the glass so as not to sip from where my lips had been.  My darling has certainly come a long way.  
_

“Oh, this is very refreshing.  It would be quite nice on a summer’s day.  Can I ask why you’re smiling at me like that?”

“Oh, it’s nothing really.”

“Come on, tell me.”

“I was just musing about how you used to be so concerned about germs when we were first dating.  You were always hesitant about sharing food and drink with me.”

“Well, that’s because I didn’t know where your mouth had been.  Now, I know.”

Benedict flashed her a cheeky grin as his eyes twinkled with merriment. “I’d be doubly concerned then if I were you,” he tittered.  “Especially, after this morning.”

The two men glanced at them with amusement and went back to their discussion.

“Stop being such a tease!”

“How about deciding on your meal so we don’t have to send the waiter away again?  It’s starting to get crowded in here, and they squeezed us in.”

“What are you in the mood for?  Everything here is good.”

“I’m torn between the filet mignon sandwich and the shrimp and grits.”

“I suggest ordering something that you normally wouldn’t find on a menu in London.  Bar Americain specializes in Regional American cuisine, such as shrimp and grits and the Kentucky Hot Brown, which I already made for you.”

“The sandwich sounds delicious:  spice-crusted filet mignon, white Vermont cheddar and house-made steak sauce on a ciabatta roll.  The bloke at the table behind you is just tucking into one.  It comes with chips and some kind of pink dipping sauce.”

“It’s roasted red pepper mayonnaise.  I love the fries here.  They are seasoned and very crispy.”

“Have you had the steak sandwich?”

“Yep, and it’s as good as it sounds.  However, with that said, you can get a perfectly good steak sandwich in London; but fairly authentic shrimp and grits would be difficult to find.”

“You make a good point.  I’ll try that then.”

“How about if we share the tasting?”

“The tasting of what?”

“It’s three small portions of shellfish cocktails:  lobster-avocado, crab-coconut and shrimp-tomatillo.”

“Oh, yeah, I see it. I’m already having shrimp though…I’m not sure I want a whole meal of seafood.”

“Wait! I see the pumpkin soup is back on the menu!  It’s delicious!  They top it with spiced crème fraiche and pomegranate seeds.  We can ask for two spoons and share it.”

_Hells bells! More pumpkin?  The Americans certainly are enamoured with pumpkin, bless them. Pumpkin is everywhere I go these days.  I like it but it seems I’ve had it just about every day since that I’ve been here in one form or another._    _Yesterday Antonia served a pumpkin layer cake after lunch.  Thank God there were Italian pastries as well._

“Mmmm…on second thought, let’s share the shellfish cocktails.  I’m in a fishy mood today I suppose.”  Benedict smiled and crinkled his nose at her.

“You’re getting tired of pumpkin aren’t you?”

_YES! And it all started with that innocent Pumpkin Spice Latte. She must have automatically assumed I was as much a pumpkin aficionado as she is._

“Just a tad.”

_That’s too bad.  I was hoping they had the triple pumpkin bread pudding on the dessert menu, but we’ll find something else.  I’m sure I can talk him into sharing the chocolate cream pie._

“What are you having for your main?”

“The smoked chicken pot pie with sweet potato biscuit crust.  It’s probably my favorite lunch dish.”

“That sounds tasty as well.”

“I’ll share with you.”

“Hmmm…what about the hot smoked salmon and sweet potato hash?   Have you had it?”

“Yep. Excellent choice, however, sweet potatoes taste fairly similar to pumpkin; and some chefs will substitute one for the other. I thought you wanted to steer clear of pumpkin-like foods.”

“You're right. I’ll definitely stick the shrimp and grits then.”

The server returned to check on them; and once their orders were placed, Benedict decided to steer the subject towards that of their wedding.

“I enjoyed seeing your family church yesterday.  The organ is magnificent.  I can only imagine how incredible it sounds when being played.”

“I’d offer to take you to hear it during Sunday mass, but you’ll be back in London,” Donna said sadly.

“The priest is quite a corker.  I enjoyed chatting with him.” 

“Everyone loves Father Matt.  He has personality to spare.  It was such a nice surprise to come across him outside the rectory.  I’ve never been invited inside before.”

“He makes a decent cuppa as well,” chuckled Benedict. “It was even nicer of him to take time to answer my questions concerning the differences between our religions and marriage ceremonies.  I was surprised at how knowledgeable he was about the Anglican wedding service.”

_Why do I have the feeling my parents have something to do with some of Father Matt’s newly acquired knowledge?  He went into so much detail, I would have thought he had taken a course or done some research.  I naturally would have expected him to have a certain amount of general knowledge about the Church of England’s ways.  However, the way he delved into each of Ben’s questions in such depth when comparing the two, leads me to believe one or two of his parishioner made an inquiry and their names are Neil and Toni.  
_

“Father Matt apparently knows his stuff.  He answered a lot of my own questions.”

“Have you given any further thought to where you fancy us being married?”

“We have three choices:  a Catholic or Anglican church, the reception venue or another spot where weddings can be performed – such as the London Eye.”

Benedict’s eyes widened.  “Bloody hell! The London Eye?  Really?  They host weddings?”  _Imagine: her wanker parents in their own capsule.  Hahaha!_

_Benedict is thinking we could have a capsule all to ourselves and put our parents in another one._

“Yeah.  I came across it online; but you only get an hour in a private capsule, which comes out to two rotations.  We would just have to use it for the ceremony, followed by canapes and champagne, and not everyone would fit inside.  Why?  Are you seriously interested?  My dad would love it because it would save him a ton of money.”

_Sorry, Darling; as tempting as that sounds, the last thing I want is to save your father a ton of money.  However, it is an attractive alternative if things deteriorate and we wind up paying for everything ourselves.  
_

“Heavens, no,” laughed Benedict shaking his head.  “I’ve always imagined myself having a traditional church wedding with all the trimmings:  inspirational readings, lovely music and the inside all decorated with fragrant white flowers and candles.”

Donna noticed how his ice blue eyes glittered with excitement as he spoke.

_Benedict really seems to have his heart set on a church wedding.  I can picture him waiting at the altar as Dad and I walk down the aisle.  
_

“I fancy the idea of you arriving in a vintage car adorned with white crepe streamers.  I can visualize you walking down the aisle in a beautiful white lace gown on a petal-strewn white carpet.”

_So can I!_   Donna suddenly found herself getting swept up in Benedict’s enthusiasm.  _I can’t wait to go shopping for my wedding gown with the whole bridal party!  Wait…half of my bridal party will be in the US; and the other half will be in London. How in the hell am I going to coordinate that???  
_

“On second thought perhaps the flower petals should be strewn along the sides of the carpet given your history when wearing high heels. We wouldn’t want you to slip and take a tumble.”  He paused to stick his tongue out at her.

“Very funny, Benedict.”

“I was actually being serious.  I would never want you to slip and risk getting hurt on our wedding day for the sake of high fashion.”

“I don’t intend to wear super- high heels.  I’m well aware of my track record.”

“I’m glad to hear that.  I didn’t want you to take it the wrong way.”

“Wearing stiletto heels is asking for trouble.  Besides, I want to be comfortable so I can dance!”

“You could change into trainers when it’s time for the night do.”

“Umm…I think I need to be a little stylish.”

“You could buy yourself some fancy trainers and make a fashion statement.  Yeah.  You could get a pair of white leather trainers covered in white sequins.”

“Tell you what:  you can wear sequin-covered shoes.  I’m sticking with a traditional white pump with a two-inch heel.”

Benedict ate a crisp and chased it with a sip of his drink.  “Shall I continue?”

“Yes, please!”

“Well, after the ceremony, we would make our exit as husband and wife through a shower of multi-coloured confetti to be whisked away in the same car you arrived in to a sumptuous wedding breakfast that would be the talk of the town for years to come!” 

_Oh, this man hasn’t given this too much thought.  Holy cow!  Most guys don’t go into that much detail when it comes to the style of ceremony and reception. Benedict even knows what color confetti he wants.  
_

“Then what?” Donna prodded him, as she sipped some water.

“Our guests would partake of a drinks reception whilst we took photos with our immediate families and the wedding party in Kensington Palace Gardens.  Then after an epic feast at Kenwood House, prepared by one of the finest chefs in London, we would dance the night away in their Orangery to the Atlantic Soul Orchestra, which happens to be utterly, utterly brilliant.  They played at Adam and Alice’s wedding and brought the house down.”

_They’d have to be pretty good to top the live entertainment Carly and Steve had at their wedding. A live band, an acappella singing group, Chinese acrobats and a special live performance of the Festival of the Lion King.  Everyone in the family still talks about it.  
_

“What happens after that?”

“Once we’ve sent our guests home, we would retire to a honeymoon suite at the Savoy to spend our wedding night in style…feeding each other chocolate-covered strawberries decorated like a bride and groom, washed down with Dom Perignon champagne…followed by a relaxing bubble bath for two…maybe some slow dancing followed by ridiculously passionate love making in a sumptuous feather bed that would leave us both completely sated and over the moon.” 

_Oh, that sounds real good to me, Ben Honey – especially those chocolate-covered berries and the ridiculously passionate love-making._   _Oh, yeah!_

Benedict stopped speaking abruptly and his face reddened considerably. 

“For fucks sake!  Listen to me prattling on like a git about my vision.  I sound more like the bride than the bloody groom. Of course, we’ll want to hire a wedding planner to bounce ideas off of. You must think me a very foolish man indeed,” Benedict Cumberbatch said with a bashful half-smile.

_Is he fucking kidding me???  This is exactly the kind of wedding we should have.  He’s got all the bases covered, too.  This man could be a wedding planner!  As a matter of fact, why would I even consider hiring a wedding planner when my fiancé just did all the work for us? Whether he realizes it or not, Benedict just planned our wedding!_

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

_ _

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I only have a vague ideas as to how Visa's work between the US and UK, so I mostly improvised in order to fit the plot line.
> 
> 2\. Bar Americain is my favorite restaurant in NYC. I've never had a bad meal there. That's actually the photo of the brunch bread basket. 
> 
> 3\. The Union Square Green Market is only open Mon, Wed, Fri & Sat. It's very interesting to walk through and has quite a large variety of open air stands. There is a bakery stand that sells the scones I describe, which are awesome. Unfortunately, the stand that sells the spiced hot grape juice is gone. 
> 
> 4\. IMHO, Katz's Deli on the lower East Side has the best corned beef sandwiches in NYC. It's an institution. Nothing fancy, but hefty, delicious, made-to-order sandwiches and other deli-style treats. You can watch them slice the meats at the counter. I remember when I was in London that they call corned beef - salt beef.
> 
> 5\. The real Benedict had the Atlantic Soul Orchestra play at his wedding, so I used it. I know nothing of Adam Ackland's real wedding.
> 
> 6\. I personally love all types of pumpkin-flavored foods/drinks and look forward to every fall when all these special treats come out, so I'm poking fun at myself with all the pumpkin love. LOL!


	137. Chapter 137

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This Chapter marks the Three-Year Anniversary of this story! A big thanks to all my lovely readers!
> 
> Wedding plans take form for Benedict and Donna. Timothy and Wanda get settled in at the Saint Jameses brownstone. Benedict’s suggestion brightens Donna’s day and causes chaos for others. 
> 
> Note: I’ll be using ******** to indicate things happening at the same time.

 

Donna Saint James smiled serenely at Benedict Cumberbatch as she set down her water glass.  “Quite the contrary, Ben Honey, I think you’re the most romantic man I’ve ever met.  I also think you’ve just described the perfect wedding for us.  I love all of your ideas – from the church down to the hotel suite. What a beautiful dream that is, and it’s one we can make come true.”

“You’re just saying that to appease me,” scoffed Benedict, rolling his eyes.

“No, not at all.  Believe me, if I weren’t interested, I’d speak up.  This is the most important day of our lives, and we need to be in full agreement as to the type and style of wedding we’re going to have.  I propose we go with the church wedding and incorporate both English and American traditions to make it our own.  Since I never bothered to join a Catholic parish, we should have an Anglican ceremony.”

“Are you certain that’s what you fancy?”

Donna nodded.  “Yes.  I’m not all that religious as you already know, and it really doesn’t matter to me whether we’re married in a church or at a different venue – as long as we’re legally married.  However, our being married in a church is important to you, so let’s start there and make the necessary arrangements.”

Benedict took her hand from across the table and kissed the top of it.  “Thank you.  I’m so over the moon right now.”

“So does this mean you’re going to contact the vicar at Saint Paul’s?” asked Donna with a mischievous smile.

“Fuck no!  That was an over the top dream.  No.  In reality I’m looking for something a bit more low key for us.”

“Oh, you mean Westminster Abbey?”

“Hardly.  You would have to be a member of the Royal Family, an Order of the Bath member or one of their children or live within the Abbey’s precincts.  We don’t qualify for any of those, sad to say.”

“Southwark Cathedral?” 

“How you love to tease me, Miss Saint James!  My mum would absolutely adore that.  Realistically, I see that we have two choices:  Gospel Oaks in Hampstead, which would be my parish; or Saint Mary Abbot in Kensington, which is the church I was christened in and grew up in.  I personally prefer Saint Mary Abbot as I’ve rarely set foot in Gospel Oaks aside from Dennis’ wedding.  All I’d have to do is to get permission to marry there and to marry a Catholic, which shouldn’t be difficult according to Father Matt.”

“I hope they have our date free.”

“If not, we’ll try Gospel Oaks.  I'm fairly certain one of them will be able to accommodate us.”

“And if they both fall through?”

“I’ll consider going to Saint Paul’s then,” replied Benedict with a smirk.  “It’s a little over a year away; so I don’t see why there would be a problem in the first place.  I’ll find out what the proper procedure is and make the necessary inquiries as soon as I get back to London.”

The food runner appeared with a long white plate on which stood three squat glasses filled with the delectable-looking seafood cocktails.  He gave a hasty description of each one and went to get them water refills.

“I suppose I need to take a photograph first,” mused Benedict, picking up Donna’s camera.  “Shall I?”

“Oh, yes, please!”  Donna began to write in her notebook as Benedict focused the camera.

“Is the plate at a pleasing angle for you?”

“Yes.”

Benedict snapped away and showed Donna the photograph.  “There.  That should do.”

“I hate that you never fail to get the perfect photo on the first click.”

“That’s because you over think it.  Which of these do you fancy sampling first?”

“I always start with the shrimp, followed by the lobster and ending with the crab.”

“And they say I’m the neurotic one,” snickered Benedict, as he divvied up the two large steamed shrimp and green sauce onto their plates. 

“I’m sure I display OCD tendencies at times,” mused Donna, cutting her shrimp into bite-sized pieces.

_And this would probably be a fine time for me not to agree with her,_ thought Benedict, dipping his shrimp into the sauce and taking a bite.  “Mmmm...delicious!  So, do you have any ideas as to where we should have our reception?”

Donna nodded.  “An idea popped into my head last night right before I fell asleep about somewhere I pass often, but never even considered until now.”

“Which is?”

“The Orangery.  It’s right next to Kensington Palace Gardens.”  _And it’s also the scene of the crime.  Where the Plan was set into motion by your mother and me.  
_

“That’s certainly a venue we should consider," agreed Benedict with enthusiasm. "Especially should we marry at Saint Mary Abbot’s.  We wouldn’t have far to go.”

_On second thought, maybe it’s best to avoid the scene of the crime.  With our luck we’ll have Bernice again for a server._

“I was thinking that maybe the Orangery might not be such a good idea on second thought, Ben.”

Benedict fixed her with a puzzled look.  “Why not?”

“Too many tourists hanging around. I don't want us to wind up in someone's vacation album. You mentioned Kenwood House earlier. Why don’t you tell me about it as I’ve never heard of it.”

“Kenwood House is a villa on the north edge of the Heath that once belonged to the Earl of Mansfield.  It's open to the public and would be the perfect setting for a wedding breakfast in my opinion. It boasts a fine collection of paintings and has lovely gardens with a fine view of London beyond.”

_I wonder if they would be open to allowing us to shoot fireworks once it gets dark?  What a novel way to end our night do. Donna and her family do love their fireworks, bless them; and since we’re not having a Disney wedding, this would be such a treat for her.  I would definitely want it to be a surprise.  
_

“How come you never took me there?”

“I never thought of it to be honest, but it would make for a pleasant way to spend a Sunday afternoon.  Would you care to see it?”

“Absolutely!  It sounds like the perfect place to hold our reception.  We can use their gardens for photographs so that way we get to attend part of the cocktail hour.  I hate it when the bride and groom have to miss their cocktail hour because they're off taking photos elsewhere.  How’s their catering?  We need to serve top-notch food and drink to our guests. I've gone to many a wedding where the venue was gorgeous, but the food was absolute crap.  Mediocre catering isn’t acceptable.”

“Agreed.  Let's see...food...Erm…I know they have a café so they probably have an in-house caterer; but I’m certain you can also bring in your own catering team and provisions.  I once saw a catering truck there making a delivery for a party they were hosting on the grounds.”

Donna nodded and ate some of the lobster and avocado cocktail when an idea occurred to her.  She looked up at Benedict.  “Are you absolutely sure about that?”

Benedict pursed his lips.  “I’m not  one hundred percent certain, but are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“I was thinking that the chef was a bit too heavy-handed with the cilantro in the sauce but the buttery-ness of the avocado cuts through it nicely.”

“I thought this wasn’t a dish-by-dish review, just overall descriptions for the article.”

 “It is but I can’t help myself sometimes."

"One of the perils of being a food critic," mused Benedict, as he helped himself to some of the lobster.

"What are you thinking, Ben?”

“What if we book Kenwood House and invite Jamie Oliver to do the catering?”

Donna smiled widely. “Great minds think alike. That’s what I was just going to suggest!”

“Wouldn’t that be lovely? I’m certain he would do it.”

“I know for a fact that Jamie does catering.  He’s been giving Carly and me advice for our new venture.”

“I’m glad to hear you’ve been consulting with a professional, even though he only does it on a small scale.  Television set catering is different.”

“Jamie’s been very helpful, and you’re wrong.  He and his team have catered large scale events, so he knows his stuff.”

Benedict forked up a chunk of lobster. “I feel as if he’s partly responsible for bringing us together.”

“So do I!  I own him a re-review of Comfort, so we’ll make sure to go there together on a night when he’s in the kitchen; and we can ask him then.”

“Brilliant!  It sounds as if we’ve got it all sorted out then,” grinned Benedict. “We’ll plan on having a traditional church wedding, followed by a reception at Kenwood House and spend our wedding night at the Savoy.”

“Provided the dates are available at all three venues, and they pass our inspection.  We just can’t book these venues without seeing them first. If you don’t mind, I’d like to visit both churches, and I’d like to go to the Savoy and ask to see one of their rooms.  We can do that all in the same day and finish up at Kenwood House. By the way, when was the last time you were at Kenwood House?”

“Erm…I know it wasn’t that long ago….erm…a couple of years I think.”

Donna fixed him with a look as she took a portion of the crab cocktail. “Why do I have the feeling that it was longer than that?” 

_Because it was, Darling – oh you know me very well, and you know that when I say a couple, I might actually mean longer.  Now that I think about it, we must have gone quite a while ago. I was still with Olivia.  It was one of those uncomfortable dates prior to the final breakup, when we were both desperately trying to stay together even though we both knew it was futile.  Well, Olivia knew it was over; but I was still determined to make it work and thought that buying a flat together was the answer and would make it all right again.  It didn’t, but at least I realized that Hampstead was where I wanted to put down my roots from our excursions there._

Benedict stroked his chin pensively. “Shit.  It must be a good four years.  I remember going to see it with Olivia whilst we were looking for flats in Hampstead.  Oh, crumpets!  I didn’t mean to bring her up in the midst of our wedding discussion.  That was very uncouth of me. Forgive me for bringing her up in the first place.”

“It’s okay, Benedict.  Olivia is part of your past, and you can’t change that any more than I change that Danny Manganero is part of mine.”

_Why do I still feel myself bristle at the mere mention of that wanker’s name? Might it have something to do with the fact that he’s quite good-looking – no, I saw his photo - he’s fucking handsome by any standard – extremely successful and has many things in common with Donna…especially a love for all things Disney.  The answer’s quite simple then:  I’m jealous of someone who I haven’t even met! I hate that I feel this way.  I’ve won Donna’s heart, so there’s no competition._

“Olivia sounds like a very sweet girl from what your Mom told me about her,” remarked Donna. “She and your dad still think the world of her.”

_Oh, isn’t that just brilliant? How lovely of Mum to discuss my past lovers with my present one, bless her…unless Donna made an innocent inquiry and Mum was only too happy to oblige and provide her with all the details._

Benedict sighed openly.  “She really is a lovely person, and we’re still really good friends as you know; but I prefer that you be the judge when you meet her.”

_Does he wants to invite his ex to our wedding??? I guess that’s normal being they are still friends and keep in touch.   Heck, I still keep in touch with Danny and his family.  Roy never answers my emails, so I gave up on maintaining contact with him, but his parents are so sweet.  I love them._

“When will I be meeting her exactly?  Did you want to invite her to our wedding?”

“Heavens no!  That doesn’t seem like the proper thing to do.  I’m not a believer in having ex-lovers at one’s wedding.”

_And I said that just on the off chance that you might consider inviting Mr. Disney or your ex-fiance. I don’t want to see the likes of Donna’s exes at our wedding.  
_

“Even though you two still maintain a friendship?  What about Olivia’s family? Are you still close to them?  I’ve often heard you mention her brother and his twin babies and her mom with great fondness. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. My family and I still keep in touch with Danny and Roy’s families.  Heck, my parents get together with Danny’s parents whenever they’re in Florida; and they’re going on a cruise with Roy’s parents after the New Year.”

_Well jolly good for them.  I suppose it really is nice that they’re all still on good terms._

_Olivia has moved on and has a boyfriend, which also makes it a lot easier…unless Benedict is feeling residual jealousy about that. I remember feeling a pang of jealousy when Danny told me he was dating Kristina.  
_

“Perish the thought, _Sweetheart,”_ snapped Benedict.  “No exes or families of said exes are welcome at my… _our_ … wedding…from either side,” he added quickly. _  
_

_Well, well.  That was the snotty version of Sweetheart.  I love how it went from **our** wedding to **my** wedding and back again after he thought better of it.  Mr. Cumberbatches jealous side has arisen.  Okay.  The Manganeros and the Takahashis are off the guest list for the time being.  Mom and Dad will balk at that but are going to have to live with it.  
_

“The thought has been perished from my mind, _Sweetheart,_ ” said Donna sarcastically.

“What I was referring to was that Olivia and her beau have been invited to Mark and Juliette’s wedding, so you’ll be meeting her there.”

_Ah ha!  I will finally get to meet the woman my honey was with for all those years.  I must make sure I look extra nice that night._

The food runner approached and set down a huge, round white plate at the table next to them.  Benedict watched with amusement as the man animatedly described whatever was in the plate.  The two men picked up their spoons and immediately dug in; praising what must have been their dessert.

“Oooooh!  Look!  The guys next to us just got their dessert,” Donna leaned over to whisper to Benedict.  “They have triple pumpkin bread pudding on the menu today!  That’s my favorite fall dessert here.”

_Christ.  More pumpkin.  It’s fucking in everything!_

“I’ve never heard of such a thing,” commented Benedict.

“It’s pumpkin tea bread, with pumpkin custard, maple walnut pumpkin ice cream and a bourbon-laced caramel sauce.”

_The bourbon caramel sauce sounds tasty.  Perhaps I could just eat that and let her have the remainder._

“It is the yummiest thing you’ve ever had in your mouth, I swear!”

“Ha!  I sincerely doubt that! I’ve had yummier things with none of the calories,” quipped Benedict, fixing her with a meaningful look.

“Jesus,” breathed Donna when one of the businessmen looked over at them and smiled knowingly.

“How long is it on the menu for?”

“Until New Year’s.”

“Brilliant!  You’ll have plenty of time to come back and have it then.  You can email me the photos.”

Donna’s face crumpled, and she looked as if she were going to cry again.

_Shit!  Why did I have to remind her that she’s not coming back with me Saturday?_

The same food runner brought a bread basket and sat it in the center of the table.  “We have our bread assortment – fresh from the oven. Corn sticks, cheddar scones, Parker House roll, sunflower rolls and buttermilk biscuits.  This is orange jalapeno butter and here are some house-made blackberry preserves.”

Donna’s face immediately brightened at the prospect of the bread basket. She helped herself to a hot corn bread stick and slathered it with the butter and jam. 

“I’m surprised there wasn’t some type of pumpkin spread rather than the jam.”

“I’ve gotten pumpkin butter in Amish country. It’s like apple butter.”

Benedict took one of the small cheddar scones and popped it into his mouth.

_I wonder if she wanted me to take photos whilst she’s busy taking notes._

“Erm…was I supposed to be photographing our bread basket?  You didn’t say anything.”

Donna looked at the corn stick, which was halfway to her mouth for a second bite.  Benedict had already taken the other corn stick and was about to butter it.

“Crap!  Don’t eat that yet!  Would you mind putting your corn stick back in the basket.  I ate mine.”

“That’s because you’re a greedy girl and always have to have something in your gorgeous mouth.” 

“Never mind.  I’ll do it because I need to re-arrange it,” said Donna. “I just need your corn stick please.”

Benedict stopped and set down his butter knife on his bread plate and waited patiently for Donna to arrange the ramekin of butter and jam alongside the basket.  As soon as she gave the go ahead, he snapped a photo. The men at the next table were trying to stifle their laughter in vain.

“I meant to ask you:  what happened to your parents butting in about the wedding?  I was fully expecting them or your brother or sister-in-law to ask us more than they did yesterday.”

Donna laughed.  “I thought we were lucky that all anyone asked was if we set a date yet.  I was expecting more; but being we were late there wasn’t time for them to ask any more questions.  They’ve still got plenty of time to grill me.”

“What are you planning on telling your parents once the inquisition begins in earnest as we both bloody well know it will on Thursday?”

“Simple.  We’ve decided on a traditional church wedding, followed by a reception at an historical old house, and our wedding night will be at one of London’s luxury hotels.”

“Have you given any thought as to where you’d fancy going on honeymoon?”

“Maybe we should save that for another day,” giggled Donna.  “We’ve been having such a nice lunch.”

Benedict frowned.  “It’s something that needs to be sorted out, so we can make the necessary bookings.  I fancy going somewhere nice and warm…”

“Florida’s nice and warm in December,” ventured Donna shyly.

“I’m not running about a theme park on honeymoon, so that’s off the table,” retorted Benedict.

_Damn.  He knew I was going to suggest Disney World.  Old habits die hard.  I have to train myself to think out of the box._

“Florida has other places to go besides Disney World,” countered Donna.  “Why there’s Universal Studios – they have great coasters!”

Benedict rolled his eyes and shook his head.  “Erm…that’s also a theme park. Not interested. Perhaps another time.”

“Why there’s Miami:  beautiful beaches, award-winning restaurants and great nightlife.  There’s a zoo and plenty of shopping as well. We could drive down to Key West, which is about a three and a half hour drive and very nice.  We could also drive up to Saint Augustine…oh, and maybe we could go to Jekyll Island in Georgia.”

_Bloody hell!  Now, she’s proposing a car trip.  This woman doesn’t know how to wind down and relax.  Go, go, go!  That’s all she knows!  We’re going to have to find a happy medium here._

“I’ll be working my arse off in the coming year, Donna.  A car trip is not my idea of a restful honeymoon. I’d like to go somewhere where we can kick back and relax.”

“To be completely honest, I’m not one for lying around in a hammock all day, sipping cold drinks.”

“How about if it were a hammock for two?”  Benedict smiled and crinkled his nose at her.  “Under a shady palm tree, clad in nothing but our swimsuits with a warm, gentle breeze blowing and the sound of the surf filling our ears…sipping a fruity rum-based libation whilst reading or cuddling.  Just think how lovely that would be.  I think it would be paradise.”

_A hammock for two actually sounds like fun now that he mentioned it. I could see us in a hammock._

Donna giggled.  “As long as you’re the one sharing it with me, though I have this wild idea that we wouldn’t get much relaxing done in one.”

The dreamy look suddenly vanished from Benedict’s face.  “I’m serious, Donna.  I don’t fancy running around all over the continent.”

“And I’m serious when I say that I don’t like the idea of just doing nothing.”

“Hmmm…we seem to be at an impasse then,” observed Benedict, irritation creeping into his voice.  “I suppose we could take separate holidays and meet back in London to compare notes then.”

“You’re such a fucking wiseass sometimes, Benedict.  It’s not all about you.”

“And it’s not all about you either. If I may say, you’re being an inconsiderate, selfish twat about it.”

One of the men at the next table side-eyed Benedict and whispered something across the table to his companion, who was paying the bill. They both got up and left after shooting him disapproving looks.

“What’s their problem?” Benedict wondered.  “Do you suppose they’ve grown weary of hearing us discuss our wedding?”

“I think they should’ve stopped eavesdropping and stuck to their project, being it was a working lunch,” replied Donna. “They may have taken offense to your use of the word twat.  Some people consider it vulgar and in poor taste.  If you recall, it took me awhile to get used to hearing it used so matter of factly.”

Benedict looked horrified.  “Oh, God.  I never even considered that.”

“I know you’re just using it like any other word, but sometimes strangers might misconstrue your meaning…”  Donna allowed her voice to trail off.  “Anyway, what do you propose we do about our honeymoon being taking separate trips defeats the purpose of going on one?”

“Which is?”

“To do lots of cuddling, making out and having hot sex.”

“Now, that’s much better!  I’m chuffed to hear that you’ve finally gotten your priorities in order.”

“You’re right, Benedict. That is the main reason for a honeymoon.”

“Your latest issue of Cosmo defines the honeymoon as a holiday taken by newlyweds to celebrate their marriage in intimacy and seclusion.”

“You must be sure to tell Sarah tonight how much you’ve been enjoying my subscription. Maybe she’ll renew the subscription for you next year.”

Benedict ignored her. “The honeymoon is also a period of sexual initiation and adjustment, hence the need for said seclusion and complete privacy.” 

“Well, we’ve already done that.  We’ve been initiated and have adjusted quite nicely to each other!”

“That comment applied more to my parents’ generation when sex before marriage was considered taboo.”

Donna smiled widely and wagged her finger at him.  “Oh, I don’t know about that.”

“And I knew even before I opened my mouth, that I never should have said such a dumb thing.  I stand properly chastised for having said that.”

“I’m all for seclusion and privacy even though having sex won’t be new to us.”

“We can always fine-tune what we already have going for us.  It would also be a prime opportunity for some…experimentation of a sexual nature yes?”

“I’m all for experimentation as well.  I’ll make sure to pack the Karma Sutra book.  Maybe I’ll take along that other book you’re so fascinated by.  I’d love to hear you beg for mercy.”

_Oh!  Holiday Sex Secrets of a Dominatrix!  The little minx never did let me finish reading it.  I wish I knew where she hid it._

“Seriously, Darling, even though I possess decent stamina, I’m really going to need to have a proper rest first– hell, we’re both going to need some downtime after the wedding. I don’t think you realize the stress and strain that goes into planning a wedding no matter how enjoyable all the planning may be.”

Donna fixed him with a look.  “Have you forgotten our parents?  We’re talking about the opportunity for major stress and strain with none of the enjoyment.”

“I thought we were going to reign them all in so it will be enjoyable?  What happened to my little champion?”

“Your little champion began to have second thoughts.  Our parents can be very persistent…I can see them wearing us down.”

“All right then.  We’ll take out the ‘enjoyable’. Anyway, what I want to say is that I’m not ad versed to going out and doing some exploring of our ultimate destination – quite the contrary – I love to see new things and have new experiences as well as relax.”

_He’s right once again.  There has to be give and take.  I can’t go running around like a touring maniac every day.  It will be like when I go to Disney and come home exhausted. I don’t think I want to start our life together like that by being all frazzled.  On the other hand, Benedict can’t just lay around by the pool for the whole time either._

“Your point has been made and taken, Ben.  I will admit that I need to learn to take it easy.  I think we need to find a compromise and find a suitable destination that allows us to both relax and do some sight-seeing.  I think we should go somewhere that we’ve never been to before.”

“That’s a genius idea, Love.  Where haven’t you been that you’d fancy going to?”

“Hawaii is supposed to be an ideal honeymoon spot,” replied Donna.  “Laid back yet there are plenty of things to do.”

“It’s a long flight from London,” said Benedict.  “Just about fifteen hours.”

“How do you know this?”

“I looked it up whilst researching honeymoon destinations.  I personally think we’d be better served by picking somewhere on the continent.”

“You mean Europe?”

Benedict nodded.  “There’s also more to the United Kingdom than just England.  There’s Ireland, Scotland and Wales to consider.”

“Hmmm…you’ve given me plenty of food for thought,” said Donna as one food runner cleared the table and another brought their entrees to place before them.

“Smoked chicken pot pie with sweet potato biscuit crust for you, Miss,” said the man placing the crock before Donna.  “Shrimp and grits for you, Sir.”

Benedict automatically picked up the camera and took two snapshots of their mains.  “That was the idea.  I want you to think outside the Disney box.”

“Have you noticed that they’re in a hurry all of a sudden.”

“That’s because we’ve been doing more yacking than eating,” laughed Benedict.  “The hostess did say we have to give back the table by half one.  We’d better tuck in.”

Donna used her spoon to break through the crust and spooned some of the savory chicken pot pie onto Benedict’s bread plate.  “Try this. The sweet potato in the crust is very subtle.”

“Fancy some of mine?”

“Yep.  I love this version of shrimp and grits.  The sharp cheddar cheese wakes up the grits.  Otherwise they can be pretty tasteless on their own.  Grits need embellishment in my humble opinion.”

“Mmm…the little lardons of bacon and scallions give it a pleasing crunch as well,” said Benedict.  “The shrimp are perfectly sautéed.”

“Good Lord!  You sound more like me every day,” laughed Donna, tasting the portion he gave her.  “I also concur with your appraisal.”

“I managed to stop myself from saying it was yummy.”

“It is.”

“Yours is excellent as well. I like that the vegetables manage not to be mushy.  The smoked chicken is genius and the crust is nice and flakey.  You’re right.  I barely detect the sweet potato.”

“I think I’m going to let you write my next review,” teased Donna.

“So what do you think about my idea to honeymoon in Europe?  I think it’s the perfect solution to our conundrum.”

“I think it’s a great idea, Benedict.  I haven’t been to most of Europe.  Carly and I spent the summer before we started college in Paris when we took the Cordon Bleu course.  It enabled us to take side trips to London and Brussels during that time.  One year I went to Ireland and stayed with Sarah and Matt at their home there for two weeks, which was great fun.  Our family also traveled to Japan the year Carly, Steve and I worked at Tokyo Disney in their college exchange program.  Aside from that, the majority of my travel has been confined to the US, Canada and Mexico.”

“Have you ever taken a cruise?”

“Oh, yeah.  Roy and I took one to Alaska,” replied Donna in a monotone.

_Hmmm…that was a less than enthusiastic response.  Perhaps it wasn’t her cup of tea?  I find that hard to believe.  Everyone loves a good cruise._

“I’ve always wanted to see Japan and China,” said Benedict wistfully.  “Alaska must have been amazing.  I wouldn’t mind taking a cruise to an exotic destination.”

“I would!”  Donna said vehemently. “ I hated that cruise!  I couldn’t wait for it to be over.”

Benedict looked shocked.  “That’s a strong reaction! May I ask why?”

“It was boring!”

“Really?”

“Really!”

“Bloody hell! What in the world did you find boring about a cruise – and to Alaska of all places?  My parents took a combination Alaskan cruise and train trip one year with my Godparents, whilst I was at Harrow;  and they all fucking raved about it for weeks when they got back.  I’ve longed to go ever since.”

Donna shuddered. “I realized two things during those two miserable weeks.”

Benedict raised his eyebrows quizzically at her.  “Care to enlighten me?”

“One:  I hated being confined on the cruise ship.  Two:  That was when I realized Roy and I were not meant to be.  We only had sex twice, and he kept finding ways to get rid of me so he could have time to work for the duration of the trip.  When he wasn’t sneaking in work, all he did was sit on a deck chair and read and take photographs of the ice. I took many a lonely walk around the decks in the moonlight and would wind up sitting in one on the lounges by myself. I felt as if I were on a singles cruise.  I suppose I should be happy that I got to catch up on my reading.  I have no desire to go on another one.”

_I can’t believe the right bastard would rather have worked than make love to a beautiful woman. That turns my stomach.  Well, his loss is my gain._

“That’s because you’ve never taken a cruise with the right man,” retorted Benedict.  “Why there’s plenty to do!  When O…”

Donna noticed that Benedict had stopped short.  “Go ahead.  Finish what you were going to say.”

“Only that there was lots to do.”

“Was it a singles cruise?”

“No. Not exclusively. There was a mix of families, singles and couples.”

“You’re being uncharacteristically tight-lipped.  Did you and Olivia take a cruise together?”

Benedict looked reluctant to answer and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Yeah, we took a Caribbean cruise when we first got together at Manchester over a school break.  We used to joke that it was our honeymoon rather than just a holiday.”

“Cute,” said Donna.

“We got all sorts of special treatment – free drinks, special desserts, rose petals scattered about on the bed and in the bath water…”

Donna rolled her eyes.  “This reminds me of when you tell the waiter that it’s your dining companion’s birthday as soon as they leave the table so you get free cake.”

“Exactly.”

“That’s tacky!”

“Bollocks! It’s great fun!” retorted Benedict. “Your mum has been known to do things like that.”

“The difference is that there really were birthdays and events to celebrate when she did it.”

“I went two other times.  Once with Mum and Dad when I was fifteen.  We cruised around the Greek islands.  Then Adam and I also took a singles cruise together – that was prior to his meeting Alice.”

“It’s okay, Benedict.  I didn’t really think you went alone.”

“You might say we were on the prowl that time,” Benedict giggled at the memory.  “It was when Liv and I were on one of our…breaks.  We had the most amazing time of it!  It was a Mediterranean cruise.  The food was amazing. The shore excursions were cracking.  There was plenty of beach time and interesting places to explore during the days.  When we were at sea, there were pools and deck chairs to relax in.  We took advantage of the nightly entertainment – drinking, dancing, shows, the casino.  We’d party hard and get to bed near dawn and sleep until noon – unless there was a land excursion we wanted to take advantage of.”

“It’s still not my thing…even though Alaska was very beautiful I will admit.  There were just too many days at sea for me.”

“Perhaps you’ll give it another go with me one day.  I promise it will be different, and you won’t be bored for a minute.”

_Hmmm…Disney does cruises now.  That might be an idea once we have kids._

“I’ll consider it.”

“What do you say to our exploring France the first week and the other in Italy?  Both are reasonably close to England, and there are many parts that I haven’t been to.”

“Yes! We can take the Eurostar to Paris and go from there.”

_I’m so over the moon that she’s so receptive to that idea!  And now I’m going to make it just a little bit sweeter. I’m going to show her that I know how to compromise as well._

“Erm…I’ll even spend a day at Euro Disney if it pleases you.”

_Oh my gosh!  He’ll go to Euro Disney for one day!  I can still have my bride and groom mouse ears!!!_

Benedict saw Donna’s eyes light up at the mention of Euro Disney.

_I’m getting laid tonight.  Look at how happy I’ve made her.  Well done, me! Oh, Benedict, you’re forever thinking with your knob.  The curse of being male, I suppose._

“Maybe we’ll spend two days there if we need more time to see the whole park.  We’ll play it by ear.”

_Oh my gosh!  I’m hearing things!!!  I must be hearing things!  
_

“I thought you didn’t want to go to a theme park,” Donna said, clearly puzzled by his suggestion.  “Are you playing with me?”

“Nope. It’s not my first choice, but a day won’t kill me.  We have to learn to compromise, so a day spent at Euro Disney is my compromise. That’s fair yes?”

“Are you certain you want to do that?  I’ve already seen it.  Carly and I went several times that summer.”

“If you fancy going there, I’m game.  I’ll leave it up to you to make the final decision; but I just need to make it clear that I must have some downtime to relax and unwind first.”

“I promise we’ll take plenty of time to rest.”

_Christ!  She looks like a small squirming in her seat from the excitement._

“We don’t have to be joined at the hip.  If I should fancy a kip in the afternoon, I want you to feel free to go off exploring on your own.”

Donna nodded.  “I think this is more than a fair compromise.” _Though I don’t think I would want to leave him.  How my priorities are suddenly changing._

“We can visit Disney last and then we make our way to Italy and fly back to London from Rome.”

“I’ve got plenty of time to do some research while I’m in Work Visa Limbo,” sighed Donna.  “I really hate that you have to go back Saturday night.”

_She looks so melancholy whenever she thinks about my going back to London. I think I need another distraction.  
_

“There’s so many things I wanted to share with you here before going back.”

“We still have four days and part of Saturday, Love.  My flight doesn’t leave until half six.”

“I know,” Donna sighed heavily.  “I just can’t help thinking about it.” _  
_

_Ah ha!  I think I have the perfect thing to distract her with, too!  She’s going to be over the moon when I suggest this!_

“Donna, I’ve been thinking.  Since I may not have time to come back to the States next year and the rate of exchange is far better here, I was wondering if you’d like to go shopping after lunch to pick out our wedding rings.  I know it might seem a bit soon for that, but….”

Donna’s hazel eyes lit up and she smiled widely at him as she pulled her cellphone out of her handbag.

“You have had nothing but good ideas all day, Ben Honey!  No, that makes perfect sense, and I don’t think it’s too soon at all.  Let me call Uncle Frank and see if we can come over.” _And now I don’t have to come up with an excuse to sneak over there so I can buy you an engagement gift. My fiancé hasn’t a clue just how clever he is.  
_

 

**************************************************

 

Wanda Ventham finished placing the last of her clothes on the plush, teal-blue, satin-covered hangars and hung them in the spacious closet in the guest bedroom that Toni and Neil Saint James had allocated to her and Timothy for the duration of their stay in New York City.

“There!  All of our clothes have been hung up, nice and tidy," said Wanda with satisfaction, as she pushed her sleeves up over her elbows.  "How are you doing with the drawers, Tim?  Is their enough space?”

Timothy turned his attention from the armoire drawer that he had been unloading the contents of one of their suitcases into.

“I’m just about done here, Commander, and I'm chuffed to report that there is plenty of drawer space.  I’m just organizing my socks into a pleasing arrangement worthy of this fine drawer.”

“What in God’s name are you prattling on about?” demanded Wanda, hands on hips.

“Come see and smell for yourself,” invited Timothy, standing off to the side.  “It’s hard to distinguish it from that ridiculously ostentatious display, which is occupying most of the usable desk space.”

Wanda regarded her husband with a raised eyebrow.  “Might you be referring to Colin’s flowers?”

“I might just."

"You are.  I know that tone of voice, Tim.  You reserve it exclusively for conversations in which Colin's name comes up."

"And what exactly is that tone of voice to which you are referring?"

_One of thinly-veiled jealousy, Tim, but if I call you out on it; you will only deny it._

"One of annoyance."

"Well the old boy _can_ be frightfully annoying, don't you agree, Pet?"

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to disagree with you this time.  Neil and Toni?  Absolutely.  But not Colin."

"For a minute I thought he had bought out a garden center.”

Wanda giggled and waved her hand at him. “Oh you!”

There was a soft knock on the door. 

“I wonder who that could be now?” Wondered Timothy aloud.

"Well, there are only three possible choices,” replied Wanda.

"All of whom have been up here once already:  First, it was Neil making sure we knew how to adjust the climate control.  Then it was Colin asking if salt beef sarnies were okay for lunch.  Then it was Toni coming up to leave us some mixed nuts, which I rather liked."

“Hush!  They were only being nice!   “Shall I get it or will you?”

“You might as well.  It’s most likely your fan club president delivering a box of chocolates so you don’t get hungry.”

Wanda opened the door to discover an embarrassed-looking Toni standing right outside.  She was holding a clear glass bud vase containing a  single perfect red rose.  “The florist just delivered this for you, Wanda.  “There isn’t a card, so I don’t know who sent it for sure…”

_No one has to tell me who sent it_ , thought Wanda happily.  _The love of my life did, bless him._ Wanda cast a glance back over her shoulder to see Timothy watching her with folded arms and a smug smile.  _And the look on that handsome face confirms it._

“…but I have every reason to think it was Colin. I’ll make sure to have Neil speak with him as soon as I go back downstairs,” said Toni in a low voice.  “He’s really gone overboard this time.  I’m so sorry, Wanda…he’s behaving like a school boy with a crush on his favorite TV star.  He doesn’t mean any harm.”

“Oh!  Please don’t!  This isn’t from your father-in-law,” said Wanda, taking the vase and turning towards Timothy with a huge smile.  “My dear husband has been sending me a single perfect red rose every Monday for the past thirty-seven years as a token of his love.” 

“This has got to be the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard!” exclaimed Toni. "How very touching of you, Tim!"

“My husband is definitely a true romantic,” agreed Wanda.  “He’s yet to miss an anniversary or birthday.  Timothy is truly one-of-a-kind, and I’m proud as punch to call him mine.”

"And sentimental as well," added Toni.  "I like those qualities in a man.  It's rare to find these traits."

Timothy seemed to stand even taller as he smiled proudly.  “Label me sentimental if you will, Toni; but I get such gratification out of seeing that lovely smile each week on her angelic face that it makes the effort worthwhile.”

“Now I know where your son gets his romantic streak from,” Declared Toni.  “Donna’s always praising Benedict’s loving little gestures.”

Wanda smiled warmly at Timothy.  “That’s our Benedict.  He’s always been such a sweet, good-natured and thoughtful person – ever since he was a small.”

“You should be proud of him,” said Toni.  “He’s a good man and treats Donna very well.”

_Well, isn't that nice to hear her say,_ thought Wanda. _It would be even nicer if she told Ben that._

_It's about time one of them actually said something complimentary about our son_ , thought Timothy.

“It’s a two-way street,” said Wanda.  “Your daughter takes brilliant care of Benedict as well.”

“I think we should all be proud of our children,” added Timothy with a smile.  “Well done us.”

“Indeed," agreed Toni. "I’ll leave you two to finish your unpacking.  Feel free to come downstairs whenever you’d like. As I said earlier, the run of the house is yours and please don't be shy about asking for anything at all.”

As soon as Toni had closed the door behind her, Wanda inhaled the sweet perfume of the rose and set the vase on the nightstand in between the beds.  She crossed the room to where her husband was standing and wrapped her arms about his waist.

“That was one of the dearest things you’ve ever done," Wanda said, standing on tiptoes and kissing him soundly on the lips.  "I love you very much."

“Just call me soppy,” he sighed.  “I couldn’t let a Monday pass by without properly acknowledging it.”

“Does this mean I can expect to receive another lovely rose next Monday?” Wanda asked with a twinkle in her ice blue eyes.

“What do you think?”

“I love that you’re soppy, Timothy Cumberbatch.”

“There are times when I wish I weren’t so much,” Timothy lamented. “It clouds my thinking sometimes.”

“I wouldn’t have you any other way!”  Insisted Wanda hugging him tightly and patting his backside.  “Now, what’s all this about the drawer.”

“See for yourself.”

Wanda peered into the drawer.  Their socks were lined up on a drawer liner that had a pretty pear and magnolia leaf pattern. She noted that the liner picked up the soft teal blue, buttery yellow and olive green colours of the room decorations.  Wanda sniffed at the subtle scent that wafted up to her nose.

“All the drawers are like this,” declared Timothy. “As well as the main cabinet in the armoire.”  He shut the drawer and briefly opened the cabinet so she could smell.

“I detect the same scent as the sachets I found in the closet…pears and magnolia.”

“Your lovely nose is every bit as reliable as our son’s.  Pear and magnolia is the correct answer.”

Wanda shut the cabinet and regarded him with a skeptical expression.  “How do you know?  You sound fairly sure of yourself.  Benedict’s word I would take as gospel on the subject, but you…”  She allowed her voice to trail off.

“I read it on the bottom of that candle over on the cabinet that the telly is stood on.  That’s how I know.  It’s the same scent everywhere you go in here for fuck sake.”

"Wouldn't it be nice if Toni thought to praise our son to his face?" Wanda mused.

"Well, to be honest, we don't know for certain that she hasn't," retorted Timothy.

"Ben would have thought to tell us something as monumental as that.  I nearly passed out at that revelation of hers. I was convinced that she hated him."

"Hate is a strong word, Pet.  I think she dislikes certain things about Ben, such as his choice of profession.  However, I will go as far as to state that she's seems to have managed to find some things to like about him.  Now, Neil, on the other hand, makes no bones whatsoever that he's not thrilled with Ben.  He tolerates him for solely for Donna's sake."

"Ben despises both of them."

"And rightfully so.  They haven't been particularly kind to him at times."

"Donna loves us - of that I am one hundred percent certain."

"And what's not to love?" laughed Timothy.  "We're both very amiable and likeable people."

Timothy slid their empty suitcases under the twin beds and put their empty carry-ons on a shelf in the closet, whilst Wanda took their toiletries bag and went into the bathroom to unpack it.  Suddenly, he heard her voice calling out to him.

“Bloody hell!  You need to come and see this loo close up.  It’s just like the one we had at the Shangri-La in Paris for your birthday.”

Timothy joined his wife in the bathroom.  “Not quite, but it’s close,” he said, taking a look about the room.  "That Toni sure believes in coordinating everything down to the last detail." 

“I think it’s because her best friend is an interior decorator and probably got everything at cost. She’s one lucky cow.” 

“You had an interior decorator help you with the cottage, and we almost got a daughter-in-law out of the deal,” laughed Timothy.

“Anna always referred to herself as an interior designer.”

“It’s the same thing as far as I’m concerned.  I remember how Ben took such a fancy to her from the moment he set eyes on her.”

Wanda winced. “What I remember best is that she wasn’t much of an eater.  I always felt as if I did all that cooking and fussing for naught whenever we had her over for dinner.”

“I assure you it was never for naught, Love.  Haven’t Ben and I always shown a proper appreciation for your cooking?  Who gives a toss whether she had much of an appetite or not?”

“I did.  I remember how he’d make sure to come around every time she was meeting with me.  Ben was totally besotted with Anna and she with him.”

“Things heated up very quickly…probably too quickly on further reflection,” mused Timothy.  “I recall them having a difficult time keeping their hands off of one another.”

“I remember those days well.  You could tell by those photos taken of them at the Grey Goose Winter Ball that it was quite a torrid affair.  I wonder whatever happened.  Ben never did say aside from things just weren’t working out as well as he had hoped.”

“Benedict confided in me many months later that it had been a simple rebound affair.  It was a matter of his wanting to prove to himself that he could still pull a woman after the breakup with Olivia.  Anna was pretty and available. In the end they didn’t have all that many common interests.  Apparently, she wasn’t as well-read as he would have preferred…if I recall correctly, he had passed a comment that their conversations weren’t all that intellectually stimulating and one couldn't expect to have a stable and long-lasting relationship based on physical attraction alone.”

“In other words she was a dumb dolly bird who couldn’t keep up with him, and our son was getting bored with the relationship.”

“I wouldn’t use those words exactly, but…yeah.  Once the novelty of the physical relationship had worn off, there didn’t seem to be enough substance left to hold them together for the long haul.  In my opinion it was for the best.”

“I’ll have to agree with you.” Wanda opened the medicine cabinet.  “Look at all this room!”

"It almost makes me wish we had brought along more things."

“I can’t believe all the snacks she left us - biscuits, candies, crisps..."

"Don't forget the mixed nuts."

"Heaven forbid!" chortled Wanda.

"Have you seen what’s in that little fridge?”

“No. She was showing me around the loo whilst Neil was showing you the kitchenette.”

“It’s not exactly a kitchenette.”

“Then what would you call it?  We’ve got that little fridge, an electric kettle, serviettes, a couple of tea towels, mugs, plates and some cutlery in that drawer.  I call that a kitchenette by my definition.”

“I suppose one could call it that.  Hell, we don’t even have to leave the bloody room.  Anyway, I’m going to see what’s in the fridge.”

Timothy left Wanda in the bathroom as he went to investigate.  He pulled open the door to the small dorm-sized fridge and surveyed the contents.

“I have to say that I’m very impressed with the offerings so far,” he called out to Wanda.  “There’s all sorts of interesting things…”

“Such as?” inquired Wanda, poking her head out of the bathroom. 

“For starters, there’s a bottle of wine…fruit…soda…juice…water....even a little cheesecake.”

“Did you say cheesecake?”

“Yeah.”

Wanda was by Timothy’s side in a flash and nudged him with her elbow so she could see the contents of the fridge for herself.

“Oh, that’s a savoury cheesecake!  We can cut it up and lay slices on those crackers.  How’s the wine?  Do you think it’s a decent vintage?”

Timothy picked up the bottle and read the label.  “Oh, yes. This far exceeds ‘decent’ by any definition of the word. This is quite a lovely wine, Darling.  We’ve had this at the Ivy with Ben.”

“Perhaps Ben had something to do with it.  Perhaps he helped to select it unbeknownst that it was for us.  One of them could have innocently asked what type of wine we fancied.”

Timothy barked out a laugh.  “Think about what you just said, woman.  Our Ben was able to give input on choosing a proper wine.”

“You’re right.  Neil or Toni must have chosen it."

“Also, neither of them would have been able to get away with such a question.  Barrister Ben would have been on the alert, as he was already suspicious with our trip to Galaxidi via Gloucestershire.”

“We almost did a right good job of cocking that up, didn’t we?”

“I’m fairly certain he bought it.  We will have to ring him later on Skype to let him know we’ve arrived safely.”

“It’s important that we calculate the time difference properly.”

“I already did, Pet.  Greece is seven hours ahead, so we’ll have to do it fairly soon. Well, I think I’m going to have a kip before dinner whilst you finish unpacking,” said Timothy.

“Oh, it’s such a shame to undress the beds.  They look so lovely.  I bet everything in here is bespoke.”

“Shall I just stretch out on the window seat then?  If you don’t care for that idea for fear of messing the decorative pillows, I could push the two benches in front of the beds together and…”

“Hells bells! Of course not!  What about one of those comfortable-looking arm chairs?”

There came an urgent knock on the door to the room.  Timothy and Wanda exchanged looks.

"Jesus Christ!  Now what?" whispered Timothy.  "What on earth can be so important now?"

Wanda shrugged.  "I hope it's not more food.  We probably have more up here then they have downstairs in the bloody kitchen."

“Come!” called out Timothy.

The door opened to reveal a harried-looking Toni.  “Sorry to bother you again!”

“Are you okay, Toni?  You seem to be a bit winded,” observed Wanda.

“That’s because I just ran up the stairs to warn you both that Benedict and Donna are downstairs!” 

“I thought they had plans to dine with Sarah Jessica Parker and Mathew Broderick tonight,” said Timothy.

“They do; but they stopped here on the way first.”

Wanda brightened. “Oh, do they live near you?” 

“No!  They live across town in the West Village; but Donna and Benedict were excited to show us what they bought at my brother's store this afternoon."

"What did they buy?" inquired Wanda.

"Their wedding rings and gifts for the bridal party," replied Toni.  "They're so excited - just like two little kids at Christmas.  I'll fill you in once they've gone."

“We’ll lay low then,” said Wanda.  “Tim was going to have a lie down anyway, and I was going to finish unpacking our toiletries and check our emails.”

“Can you hear us moving around up here?” asked Timothy.

“No, but I decided to run up here and warn you in case you decided to venture downstairs.  They think Neil, Colin and I are the only ones in the house right now. ”

“We’ll be extra careful,” promised Wanda.

“Thank you.  I’m so sorry about this.  They can’t stay too long.  One of us will let you know when the coast is clear.”

Wanda and Timothy exchanged looks after Toni had left the room.

"I can't believe they already bought their wedding rings!" said Wanda.

"I had no idea they already knew who they wanted to be in their wedding party," added Timothy.  "Those two certainly move fast.  I wonder if they already have the wedding venues sorted out."

“I'm sure we'll find out more after they leave. Blimey, it’s a good thing that Toni left us all these little treats.  Who knew we’d be trapped up here by our own son!” exclaimed Wanda.

“Well, since we have to remain quiet, I think that lie down is definitely in order,” said Timothy as he began to undress one of the twin beds.  “Shall I turn down your bed as well?”

“No.  I’m going to finish up in the loo.  Then I’ll have a read of my book.  We can't place a Skype call to Ben because he's downstairs."

"That's exactly why we should place one.  It will look like we tried to call from Greece but missed him."

"Now, that's a genius idea."

“Where’s your handbag?  I forgot to take my Lipitor on the plane.”

"I'll get it.  I need to get my reading glasses."  Wanda started for the dresser and stopped in her tracks.  “Funny.  It’s not here.  It's always been my habit to put it on the dresser top whenever we’re not at home, but it’s not there.”

“I’ll check the wardrobe then.”

“No.  I was just in there,” said Wanda scratching the top of her head. “I would have recalled seeing it.”

“Well, you had it with you when you came in because you opened it in order to get your reading glasses out to read their ridiculously epic engagement announcement. So, we know for a fact that…”

Wanda hit her forehead with the heel of her hand.  “Oh, no! For fucks sake!”

Timothy looked at her inquiringly with a raised eyebrow.  “Ah, you remembered where it is yes?”

“Oh, yeah.  I can tell you exactly where the bloody thing is.  It’s downstairs in the lounge, sat on one of the end tables in plain sight of Barrister Ben!”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I find it hard to believe that I've been writing this saga three years now. A big heartfelt thanks to those of you who have taken the time to read this long and winding story. I truly appreciate and thank all those who have taken time out to leave comments and kudos. It is much appreciated. Hugs to all of you!
> 
> 2\. I'm taking a shot in the dark as to the churches Benedict's parents and Benedict would belong to in real life. 
> 
> 3\. My version of Benedict's idea to have fireworks has nothing to do with his real wedding. He gets it from all the Disney fireworks talk that Donna and her family do. 
> 
> 4\. From my research the term 'cocktail hour' is used to refer to drinks and appetizer/canape/hors d'oeuvres consumed by wedding guests prior to the reception dinner in the US, while 'drinks reception' seems to be the term used in the UK.
> 
> 5\. I'm still not sure if there is a college exchange program at Tokyo Disney for American students going over. I knew someone who used to work as a singer in live shows at WDW, who spent a year working as a singer in Tokyo Disney Sea, but he wasn't a college student.


	138. Chapter 138

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Benedict and Donna go shopping for wedding rings. Wanda and Timothy’s cover is blown. Donna, Timothy and Wanda find themselves in a pickle with Barrister Ben. 
> 
> Note: I’ll be using ********* to indicate things happening at the same time.

 

 

Benedict Cumberbatch and Donna Saint James stood before the window of her Uncle Frank’s jewelry store on West 47th Street admiring the glittering display of diamond jewelry.  Donna’s eyes were seemingly glued to a tray of diamond encrusted wedding bands.

“See anything that catches your eye in particular?” teased Benedict. 

“Yep.  That one in the center.  Isn’t it beautiful?” replied Donna wistfully.

Benedict's eyes scanned the center of the blue velvet display case. 

_Shit!  There are two rows that could be construed as the center.  They also all look the same to me after a while.  
_

“I see four possibilities in what would qualify to be the center.  Care to be a bit more specific?”

“Third row, fourth ring from the left.  It’s a band made up of squarish stones with pave ones all over the platinum setting. Gosh, I love how it catches the light...it has such brilliance!”

 _Everything looks fucking brilliant because I’m sure they use special lighting to enhance the beauty of the diamonds.  Now, let’s see…oh yes…I see the one she’s talking about._  

Benedict felt light-headed as he read the details of the ring that were neatly labeled on a small white tag that protruded from underneath the ring:  10.5 CTW, VVS-1, Color E, plat _._

_The motherfucking thing is over ten carats!! Has Donna lost her mind? I don’t even have to try and do the maths to know that I could never afford to buy her that ring!  
_

“It’s lovely,” was all Benedict could manage to say in a monotone.

“That’s not lovely – that’s fucking spectacular!  The stones are Asscher cut.”

_Asscher cut. Well, of course they are, bless her. Like I know from what that means. I don’t recall coming across the term whilst I was doing all that research. Asscher. I’d be an absolute ass to buy that ring and go into more debt. She needs to think in terms of something on a much smaller scale.  
_

Donna glanced at him sideways _.  He hasn’t any idea as to what an Asscher cut stone is.  I guess he never came across the term when he was doing all that research.  
_

“I haven’t a fucking clue as to what is so special about an Asscher cut,” Benedict admitted. _  
_

“An Asscher cut diamond refers to a cut of diamond first produced by the Asscher Brothers of Holland in the early 1900's.  They were famous for cutting the world's largest rough stone.  Asscher cut diamonds were very popular back then and just recently made a comeback.”

“Ah.  Did your uncle regale you with this knowledge then?”

“Yep.  The Asscher cut diamond is similar to a square emerald cut, but appears to have concentric squares as you look down through the top of it."

"I find it amusing that you have so much trouble learning how to drive a manual transmission, yet you know all there is to know about jewelry."

"I’m like a sponge when it comes to jewelry trivia.”

“And you’re a credit to your uncle then.”

Donna frowned at him.  “Are you poking fun at me?”

“Perish the thought!” exclaimed Benedict with a smirk.

“What do you think?”

_I think you should be looking at plain gold rings instead._

“I think they’re probably a whole hell of a lot pricier than normal-cut diamonds,” muttered Benedict under his breath.  “For that - Asscher himself should have been the bloody cutter.”

“What? I couldn't make out what you just said.”

“I was just thinking aloud, Love.  It was nothing relevant to our conversation.”

_Does Benedict think I really want that ring?  I was only admiring it.  It's far too expensive.  
_

Benedict and Donna were startled by someone tapping on the display window from the inside.  They looked up to see Donna’s Aunt Sharon, fitting some diamond stud earrings into a black velvet display that already contained others in varying sizes and shapes.  She smiled and beckoned them inside the store.  The heavy glass door to the exchange opened and a young man with curly black hair, who Benedict recognized as Donna’s cousin, Dean, ushered them inside.

The large building was a maze of shared and stand-alone counter space occupied by a variety of different jewelers all buying and selling everything from gold to loose diamonds.  Downstairs in the basement were counters devoted mainly to diamond setters, polishers and repair work. The upstairs balcony that overlooked the main floor of the exchange had a small lunch counter and even more jewelers. Benedict had been fascinated with the inner workings of the bustling marketplace for precious metals and stones when Frank’s older son, Dean, had given him a tour.

Frank Mangano’s business occupied a prime location on the left hand side of the large store, just inside the entrance.  This enabled him to have several advantages over the other occupants of the exchange who just rented counter space.  The booth had a much-coveted front display window facing 47th street enabling passerby to stop and gawk at the sparkling wares.  Hopefully, the shoppers would be tempted to come in and buy.  Frank also had extra-long counter space that was filled with trays of simply-displayed jewelry on backgrounds of dark blue velvet.  Behind the counter were two tiny offices where business could be transacted in privacy rather than out in the open like most of the other jewelers in the building did.

“Dad’s downstairs with Sammy getting a stone set.  He’ll be back up in a few minutes,” said Dean, hugging Donna and shaking Benedict’s hand.  “Come on in and have a seat in his office.”

Donna’s Aunt Sharon came into the office and hugged them both.  Once they were settled in the client chairs in front of her husband’s desk, she dispatched her younger son, Dustin, upstairs for a round of coffees and tea.

“A couple just came in from Boston to buy an engagement ring, and they’re downstairs with Frank getting the stone set.  We got another late start this morning; and they were doing construction in the Lincoln Tunnel. Unfortunately, the customers with appointments began to back up.”  Sharon smiled at Benedict.  “Frank is one of those perpetually late people I'm afraid.”

Donna side-eyed Benedict, a slight smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.  “I’ve come to expect that my uncle will never be here on time, as well as some others I know.”

“Oh, not to worry,” said Benedict, face reddening slightly.  “It happens sometimes.”

Donna felt him nudge her foot with his.  _Benedict_ _didn’t like that_ _because he knew I was referring to him._

“What brings you two here today?” Sharon inquired.  “Frank only said you were coming in sometime in the afternoon.  Is everything all right with your ring, Donna? Do you need an adjustment?”

“It’s fine,” said Donna, gazing down at it with a smile.

Benedict winced inwardly at the memory of the scratch he had received on his penis.

_Hmmm...I wonder if they can do something with those sharp petals?_

Benedict ran his hand through his auburn curls.  "Well, actually, yeah.  The petals are rather sharp, and we've both gotten scratched a couple of times.  Do you think there is anything that can be done?"

"Oh, yes!  Ben's right," agreed Donna.

Sharon looked at Donna's ring.  "I see what you mean. The good news is it can be remedied by smoothing and polishing those sharp edges down. You won't even know anything was done.  It won't affect the appearance at all."

"That's brilliant.  Thank you, Sharon."  _My peen is forever grateful._

“I’ve gotten so many compliments on my ring already, Aunt Sharon.”

“That’s because it’s so unique.  You’re a lucky girl to have such a talented guy.  He’s a gem – pardon a jeweler’s pun.  I couldn’t resist,” giggled Sharon.

Donna leaned over and kissed Benedict on the cheek.  “I’m well aware, Aunt Sharon.”

"Dustin can take you downstairs to Dom as soon as he gets back with our drinks. That way you don't waste your whole afternoon waiting around for Frank. Unless there is something else you two need."

“We’re here to buy our wedding rings,” explained Benedict.

“Do you know what type you’d like?  I can get you started,” offered Sharon.

Benedict and Donna exchanged hesitant looks, neither wanting to be the first to speak up.

"Love?" prodded Benedict.

“Well, I do know that I’d like something that will compliment my engagement ring,” replied Donna.

_And that, Benedict, means she fancies diamonds.  What a dolt I am to assume that she’d fancy matching gold rings. Fuck. This is something we needed to discuss before coming in._

_Oh, oh. I feel as if I’m wading into virgin territory all of a sudden. This is the first time Benedict and I are buying jewelry together. Maybe this was a bad idea.  We never discussed what either of us wanted or what our budget was_ , thought Donna.  _I wish Aunt Sharon would go back to her earring display so I can ask him in private._

 _Why didn’t I think to discuss how much we wanted to spend?_ Thought Benedict.  _Because I didn’t plan on doing this so soon_. _Bloody hell!  This is what I get for acting on an impulse._

“I fancy a traditional gold band,” replied Benedict.

“Let me see what we’ve got, and I’ll be right back,” said Sharon.  “And don’t worry, if you don’t see something you like here, you can always check out the other stores in the exchange and let us know if something catches your eye.”

“You don’t mind if we go to another store?” asked Benedict incredulously. 

“Not at all. All you have to do is bring one of us back to see the piece.  Then we’ll arrange to buy it at cost and charge you a small markup. We’ve done that for customers countless times.”

Donna nodded.  “And it even applies to stores outside the exchange. I  remember when Mom bought and returned those earrings to Cartier’s and you guys copied them for her at a third of the price they charged.”

“Yeah, I do recall Frank saying something about that,” said Benedict.

Donna’s cousin, Dustin, appeared in the doorway balancing two paper hot cups containing Lipton tea, which he passed to Benedict.  “Here you go:  two teas with milk and two sugars.”  He looked at his mother, his brown eyes glowing with excitement as he passed her a cup of black coffee for his father.  “Liza’s driver just pulled up outside.  I’ve got cappuccino for her already in your office along with your coffee.”

“Excellent!” exclaimed Sharon excitedly.  “Please forgive me but my next appointment is here.  I’ll see you both afterwards.”  She and Dustin quickly left the room, shutting the door behind them giving Donna and Benedict some much needed privacy.

“Who do you think that was?”  Inquired Benedict.  "They were very anxious."

“Liza Minnelli.”

“How do you know?”

Donna gestured to one of the autographed photos of celebrities, politicians and sports figures that lined her uncle’s wall.   There was a framed photo of her aunt and uncle with Liza Minnelli.

“That’s how I know.  They’ve also talked about her coming in often.”

“I bet your mum would aspire to having her as a client. What a fine catch Liza Minnelli would make.”

“Liza is one of Mom’s clients.  That’s how she knows about my uncle.”

Benedict nodded as he crossed his long legs.  “I’ve never seen Dustin before.”

“He’s home from college for Thanksgiving.  When he graduates he’ll be coming into the business as Dean and his wife did.”

“How did your uncle get into this type of business?”

“This was Sharon’s late dad’s business, and he groomed Uncle Frank to take over with her.”

“It’s nice having a family business yes?”

“Yep.”  _Alright.  Enough chit-chat.   I need to take the bull by the horns. Ben's looking very uncomfortable. I used to laugh whenever I'd hear Mom say that money is the one thing most couples argue about and can often lead to divorce.  Now, I'm not laughing.  It's tough to broach the topic - especially since we're just starting out.  Another learning curve._

Donna cleared her throat and took a sip of the tea. “So, at the risk of sounding crass, we need to talk money before my uncle comes in.  What are we budgeted for?”

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck and grimaced.  “Erm…we’re not.  I’ve never even considered the expense of wedding rings.  I decided to do this purely on the spur of the moment.  It was meant as a gesture to cheer you,” he replied.  “And now I’m the one who needs cheering up.”

“Crap.”

“Yeah.  I expected you’d say something like that,” sighed Benedict. 

“I was going to buy your ring.”

“You don’t have to.  The common pot should pay once we've pooled our resources.”

“No,  I want to pay for your ring with my own money.  I want it to be a gift from me to you.”

Benedict rubbed his upper lip with his index finger, seemingly lost in thought.   _I recall going with Adam to pick up Alice's ring.  He was bitching about how much it cost him. I suppose I should pay for Donna's out of my own funds._ _I can't wait to start getting the money from Sherlock!_

_Why is he not saying anything?  OH, maybe he doesn’t really want to wear a wedding ring; but feels obligated to.  The thought never crossed my mind._

“That’s provided you want to wear one,” Donna added quickly. “There’s no law that requires you to wear a ring if you don’t want to.  I would never force you to.”

Benedict frowned.  “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Well, the only jewelry I've ever seen you wear is your watch. Also, your dad doesn’t wear a wedding ring, only that signet ring when he has somewhere special to go.”

“I’m not my dad.  I’ve been dying to wear one!”

Donna smiled.  "Okay.  Feel free to pick out whatever you'd like."

"And you should..."

The door to the office opened, revealing her smiling Uncle Frank.  “So we meet again, Benedict.  How are my favorite love birds today?”  He kissed Donna on the cheek and leaned over to shake Benedict’s hand.

“We’re still over the moon,” laughed Benedict. 

“I’m always happy to visit you, Uncle Frank,” giggled Donna.

“That’s what I like to hear.”  Frank opened the palm of his hand and placed the ring Donna had been looking at on a black velvet pad on his desk and pushed it towards her.  “Sharon said you seemed to have your eye on this one.  It’s gorgeous, isn’t it?  We just got it in.  The stones are Asscher-cut.”

Donna’s eyes lit up as she removed her engagement ring, setting it alongside the diamond band.  She picked up the ring and slid it onto her finger, admiring it.  "Holy cow! That's some ring!"

“It’s too big, but we can make one up in your size,” said Frank.  I could most likely have it ready by the end of next week."

“Erm…how much is this ring?” inquired Benedict, trying to sound nonchalant as he took a small sip of tea.

“This one would retail for thirty-five thousand…”

Benedict choked and sputtered on the mouthful of tea.  _Holy motherfucking son of a bitch!  Thirty-five fucking thousand dollars?  I don’t have that kind of money!  Our whole wedding will probably cost close to that.  That would buy a houseful of new furniture and cover some renovations._

Donna patted Benedict's back. "Are you alright, Honey?"

_NO!  I'm not alright!  I'm utterly terrified that you're going to get me in over my head.  I hate to have to deny Donna her dream ring, but I can't let this happen.  There's always anniversaries._

"Yeah...I...I just swallowed wrong."

“…but we don’t have to use perfect stones and we can use smaller ones because her hand is tiny. However, it will still have the same wow factor.  This ring is made for a larger hand.  Also keep in mind that this is a platinum setting, which I wouldn’t suggest for you, Donna.  White gold is far more durable and will cost less as you know Ben.  I’m sure we could get the cost down to under ten.”

_Ten thousand fucking dollars?  Is he nutters?  I’m going to have to take Donna outside for a walk and tell her no way in fucking hell can she have that ring no matter how much she fancies it - even the paired down version.  
_

Donna removed the ring and put her engagement ring back on.  “It is a beautiful ring, Uncle Frank, but it’s just too showy.  I want something to compliment my ring, not detract from it.  I was hoping for a band I could wear along with it.  This one was too wide, and it’s much more than we want to spend.”

Benedict sighed inwardly with relief.  _Oh, thank the jewelry gods that my love shows a modicum of common sense!  I seriously thought I was going to shit myself had she actually fancied it.  
_

“I was thinking something with a floral motif in a white gold setting,” continued Donna.  “I’m not looking for anything flashy as my ring commands enough attention on its own.”

Benedict sat frantically doing calculations in his head.  _Its times like this when I wish to fuck I were better at maths!  Hmmmm... If she keeps to small diamonds in white gold, I think I could just about manage it._

"I'm not looking for huge diamonds.  Something along the same size as you used in the band of my ring would be perfect."

Frank nodded and rose from behind his desk.  “I think I have exactly what you’re looking for.  I’ll be right back.”

Donna giggled once her uncle had left the office.  “Did my uncle really think we were going to spend that much on a ring?”

“Apparently so.”

“I would never spend that much nor would I expect or want you to!  It was pretty and all; but still…”

“We could do a lot with that money, Darling.”

“Exactly.”

Frank returned with a tray of diamond wedding bands nestled in black velvet.  “The most expensive ring in this tray is five grand, but I can do better as you know,” he said, winking at Benedict.  “The ones that have pave settings will be less as the diamonds are smaller; but they still give you a good deal of brilliance.  We can also shave off some of the expense by making one up.  That will give us plenty of flexibility as to size, color and quality.”

An idea began to take root inside Benedict’s mind as he studied the rings in the tray, watching as Donna began to try on several with and without her engagement ring. 

“What do you think of this one, Benedict?”

_Christ, they all look the same to me.  All I see are flowers shapes set with varying sizes of diamonds.  Some bands are wider, others not._

“I think you have to be happy with it as you’re the one who’s going to be wearing it for the rest of your life.”

“I think it’s too wide.  None of them look right.”

_Donna’s right.  Not one of them properly compliments the ring._

“Perhaps a thin eternity band of small, round or marquise stones,” suggested Frank.  "We could even do alternating round and marquise to match the style of your ring."

“Okay.  Let me see some of those please.”

Frank disappeared and returned with another tray.  His eyes met Benedict’s over the desk and he smiled.  “Can I get you a refill on your tea, Ben?  These things usually take time.”

“No.  I’m fine,” said Benedict.  _Hmmm…I think she just might like my idea._

“Anything strike you fancy yet, Donna?” inquired her uncle.

Donna shook her head.  “No.  Nothing looks right with or without it.  Maybe just a plain white gold band.”

“I’ve got an idea,” ventured Benedict.  “Frank, could you make up a wedding ring that matches the band on Donna’s engagement ring?”

Donna looked down at her hand and grinned from ear-to-ear.  “That’s it!  I think that would be perfect.  It could be thinner and would definitely compliment the ring. Can you do it Uncle Frank?”

Frank nodded.  “Of course we can!  We can do anything!  I still have Ben’s sketches and the designer’s notes on file.  We can adjust the thickness of the band so you’re comfortable wearing them both together or you can have it made thicker and shift your engagement ring to your right hand.  We have many possibilities.”  He got up and opened his file cabinet and pulled out a file labeled ‘Benedict Cumberbatch/Donna Saint James’ and brought it over to the desk.  He pulled out the notes and called downstairs to see if the designer was in.  “Great!  Jack will be right up.”

“Why didn't I think of that in the first place?" laughed Donna. ”This makes perfect sense!”

“Let’s go with that if we can,” Benedict said to Frank.  “I’d like the same sizes and quality as what she has now.  This is the only wedding ring Donna’s going to have; so I want to do it up properly.”

“I’ll do whatever you want, Ben; and I assure you that the price will be more than fair,” said Frank.  “I also wanted to mention that most couples also buy a plain gold band for the wife to wear around the house or when going out to areas that aren’t the safest.”

Benedict looked at Donna.  “I think that’s a genius idea.  I don’t fancy the idea of you walking around certain areas of London flashing that ring – especially on the tube.  I agree we should get you a plain gold band to wear on those occasions.”

Frank got up again and started for the door.  “We can look at some gold rings while we wait for Jack to come upstairs.  Will you be wearing a ring as well, Ben?”

“Yeah.  I’m just looking for something simple and traditional.”

"White gold, yellow gold, rose gold, two tone, titanium or platinum?"

_Bloody hell!  Who would have thought there would be so many choices for simple and traditional?  Not I!_

"Yellow gold.  I know exactly what I want."

 

 

Two hours later Donna and Frank stood at a counter in the back of the exchange perusing gold cuff links.

“I’m so sorry, Uncle Frank, I can’t believe he’s taking so long just to pick out a plain gold wedding ring.  I only took ten minutes to pick my ring.”

Frank laughed good-naturedly.  “I think it’s because Ben's so excited at the prospect of getting married.  There’s nothing more heart-warming than to see a groom who’s so into the preparations.”

“Everything was fine until he had to use the bathroom and saw that other tray of men’s wedding rings in your case.  I think he’s tried every one of them on!”

“He said he had no idea there was such a wide variety of rings to choose from.  Look at it this way, Donna.  Ben has afforded you with the time to select gifts for your bridesmaids, an engagement and wedding gift for him as well as a little something for yourself.”

“I love these earrings.  Thanks so much for being patient with us.”

Frank winked at her.  “Patience is my middle name.”

“No, it isn’t!  It’s Michael!” laughed Donna.  “Besides we’re not quite done yet.  Benedict wanted to get gifts for his groomsmen while he’s here.”

“I love that the members of the bridal party have already been confirmed. You two certainly move fast.”

“That was easy.  We both knew who we wanted to stand with us, so it was just a matter of a few phone calls.  The only one who turned me down was Cheryl because it was too far for her and her family to fly to London.”

Frank appeared shocked and took a step backwards.  “London?  Did you just say you’re getting married in London?”

“I did.”

“What happened to the girl who had her heart set on a Walt Disney World wedding?”

“That girl is marrying a man who doesn't share her love for Disney, not to mention that girl doesn’t exist anymore, Uncle Frank. No one was more surprised than me once I realized it. When the time came to discuss where to have our wedding, I found I no longer wanted something that over the top."

"Neither Sharon nor I have ever been to London, so we'll be looking forward to combining your wedding with a vacation. So, what have you come up with?"

"We’re going with a very traditional English wedding.  The ceremony will be held in the church Benedict was christened in, and the reception will be at an historic old home - provided we can make the date work with all the venues.  His schedule is packed for next year, so our choice of dates was very slim.”

“What did my sister and brother-in-law have to say about this development?  I can’t even imagine their reactions.”

“They don’t know yet, Uncle Frank; and I’m begging you not to say anything to Mom.  Benedict and I are going to drop the bomb on Thanksgiving after everyone's gone home as I know we’re going to be questioned.”

“We’re spending Thanksgiving with Sharon’s family this year, so I’ll be missing out on the great reveal.  I think I’m actually relieved,” he chuckled. “There’s nothing worse than a Mangano family debate.”

“Thanks a lot,” smirked Donna.  “Dad refers to those moments as when Toni dives into the pool of enthusiasm.”

“My sister can dive in head first if she wants.  I’ve known her a lot longer than you have, and she’ll back down if you stand your ground. Don’t let her or your dad try and change your minds.”

“We will.  That’s why I’m so glad Benedict will be there.  He doesn’t let them get away with anything.  You should hear some of the conversations he’s had with them!”

"That's all fine and good, Donna; but you need to be the one to stand up for yourself.  You can’t hide behind Ben forever.  If you don’t want to be pushed around, then say so.  Believe me, your parents may not like it; but they’ll respect you for it. Now, shall we go back and see whether Ben’s made up his mind yet?”

Donna and Frank returned to his office to find Benedict sitting back in his chair with his legs crossed, serenely sipping tea.  A traditional thin gold band sat on the black velvet pad.

_I can’t believe this.  Two hours and that’s the one he chose!_

“So have you made a decision, Ben?” inquired Frank.

“Yep.  I’m going with the first one I tried on because it felt the most comfortable.”

“Would you like me to have your rings engraved?”

“Please,” replied Donna.  “She looked at the wide gold band she had chosen.  “Hmmm…I don’t think Benedict and Donna December 4, 2010 will fit around mine.”

“If the engraver can't fit Benedict on, how about Ben and Donna and we'll use all numbers for the date?” suggested Frank.

“That’ll work.”

“The wedding date is definite?”

“Yes,” said Donna.

“No,” countered Benedict. "Well...mostly.  _We're_ definite about the date.  The question still remains: will the venues be available on that date?"

Frank tugged on his earlobe and frowned. “I'm afraid you lost me.”

"And me!" chimed in Donna.

“It’s not definite until we have the church and venue booked,” Benedict reminded her.  “We might have to change things to Friday the third or Sunday the fifth.”

"Or we may have to change venues," Donna reminded him.  "Nothing's really cast in stone yet, Uncle Frank."

“Then I highly recommend having them engraved in London,” suggested Frank, checking the time.  “Shall we pick out those gifts for the groomsmen before I close up shop?”

 

 

Two hours later Benedict and Donna were sitting side-by-side on the couch in the Saint Jameses living room while her parents admired their purchases. Benedict was sipping from a tall glass filled with gin and tonic and Donna a glass of white wine.

 _This tastes just like fairy pee,_ thought Benedict.  _Neil can’t make a proper drink if his life depended upon it. There's too much ice and not enough gin in this!  Dad would cringe if he were here_.

“The girls will love the earrings,” Toni said to Donna.  “And the pair you picked for Carly is especially nice.”

“Did Benedict show you my engagement gift to him yet?”

“No,” replied Toni. 

Benedict held out both arms to display the solid gold cuff links that were threaded through the cuffs of his crisp white dress shirt.

 _I was wondering why Cumberbatch kept adjusting his cuffs,_ thought Neil with amusement.  _He was trying to get our attention._

“They’re very smart,” said Toni with a nod of approval. “Good choice, Muffin.”

“I like that they’re not too flashy.  There’s nothing worse than a man sporting diamond cuff links,” quipped Neil.  “Unless it’s for formal wear, and then I’m still not thrilled.”

"And the proof lies in our safe deposit box," sighed Toni, rolling her eyes at Donna and Benedict.  "I gave him a pair for our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary and don't think he's worn them more than three times."

"I wore them to Kenny and Carly's weddings."

"Donna's wedding will make three then."

“I did want to get diamond ones,” explained Donna.  “But Uncle Frank talked me out of it.  He said they weren’t practical, and Ben would get far more use out of these.”

“And Frank was right,” declared Benedict.  “These are perfect for every day.  I love that I don’t have to save them just to wear on special occasions.”

“It’s not like Ben needs fancy dress cuff links,” scoffed Neil.  “I could maybe see it if he were going to lots of formal red carpet events like the Oscars or Baftas or premieres where he has to wear a tuxedo.”

 _And there goes the right bastard with the little dig that I’m not a successful enough actor in his eyes,_ thought Benedict.

“Erm…I’ve been invited to many formal red carpets.”

Neil regarded Benedict with unbridled amusement in his eyes.  “Really?  The last one I saw you at, you were wearing a black leather jacket, jeans and a t-shirt in the photos online.”

“You’re thinking of the _Creation_ premiere, Daddy,” said Donna.  “Not everyone dressed up for that.”

“The rest of the cast sure as hell did,” retorted Neil.

“I think your father is referring to the Elle Style awards,” chimed in Toni. 

“I was wearing a tie with my leather jacket that night,” Benedict said defensively.

Neil and Toni exchanged glances and stared at Benedict.

"What an exquisite oxymoron that you managed to get an invite to a style awards show," quipped Neil.  "What on earth were they thinking?  That it would somehow rub off on you?"

"That's enough, Dad! There's nothing wrong with the way Benedict dresses!" snapped Donna.  _I"m going to rot in hell for saying that, but I won't have them making fun all the time._ "Karon, Benedict's publicist, wrangled the invitation for us."

Toni held back a laugh.  "Now that's another one with no fashion sense whatsoever!"

"Perhaps she thought he would somehow benefit by attending," continued Neil.

"Well, she thought wrong.  She should have gone with him to pick up some tips for herself," laughed Toni. 

"Mom, the purpose of going to these events is to be seen.  It's not about what anybody's wearing..."

"Thank God for that!" said Toni.

"I beg to differ on that. There's a lot you don't know about these things, Muffin," retorted Neil.  "What people are wearing is of great interest to the viewers or readers."

"Maybe so, but the agenda is to get Benedict's name out there," said Donna.

“I never proclaimed to be a fashionista,” said Benedict.

“That’s for sure,” Neil muttered under his breath. 

 _As he's proven many times over,_ thought Toni. 

"I wear what I like and what I'm comfortable in," continued Benedict. "I can't be all that bothered with clothes.  However, I do appreciate your concern that I always look my best."

 _Pa would call him a cheeky bastard if he were here_ , thought Neil. _No he wouldn't, Pa likes Cumberbatch._

“We were dressed up for the London Film Critic Awards,” Donna pointed out.

“Yes, Rod emailed us the photos,” said Toni.  “That black velvet suit is very…Edwardian-looking.”

_I know what you’re thinking, Mom.  That black velvet suit has to go, but he loves it.  I can’t tell him to just toss it out. These things take time.  
_

“I got it at a vintage shop,” said Benedict proudly.  “I only paid twenty-five quid.”

 _And it sure as hell looks it,_ thought Neil with merriment.  _Ugliest suit I've ever laid eyes on._

“You certainly got your money’s worth,” commented Toni dryly.

“It looks like it came from King Edward’s time,” snickered Neil. 

"Velvet isn't in vogue for men right now," chimed in Toni.

"I'll keep that in mind the next time I go shopping for a suit," said Benedict.   _Piss off both of you wankers!  There's nothing wrong with the way I dress myself. Donna rarely says anything, and on the occasions that she has made an alternate suggestion, she's always been right._ "Perhaps should you be in London when I have need of a new suit, we can all go together and make a day of it. We can make the rounds of the vintage shops and have tea afterwards at the Savoy."  Benedict crinkled his nose and smiled at them. _  
_

_Sarcastic, snarky bastard.  Cumberbatch thinks he's so funny.  Little does the jerk know Toni would take him up on that offer._ “So if this is your wedding ring, then what is your uncle making up?” asked Neil, carefully examining the yellow gold floral band set with a few tiny diamonds.  “I’m confused.”

“You’re holding the ring I’m going to wear when at home or traveling to an area that Benedict deems unsafe to wear a diamond one,” explained Donna.

Neil looked at Benedict.  “That’s a sound idea.”  Then he looked at Donna.  “What is your real ring going to look like?”

“Uncle Frank is making up a band to match the one on my engagement ring, using Benedict’s sketch.  It will be white gold with the leaves set with round and marquise-shaped stones just like this,” she said, holding up her left hand.  “I asked him to make it a little thinner so I can wear them on the same hand or separately.”

Neil nodded.  “I was wondering what sort of ring you were going to wear with something that glitzy.”

“It’s going to be beautiful, I’m sure,” said Toni “What did Uncle Frank charge you for it, Muffin?”

_Antonia certainly doesn’t beat around the bush.  She gets straight to the heart of the matter, but what we spent is none of her fucking business._

Donna opened her mouth.  “He charged us …”

“A very fair price,” interrupted Benedict.  “As he did with the setting for Muffin’s engagement ring and all the other items we purchased.”

Toni’s face reddened slightly.  “I only asked because I wanted to ensure that my brother treated you properly.”

Donna opened her mouth again.  “Uncle Frank…”

“You'll be comforted to know that your brother has always treated me properly,” confirmed Benedict.  "I have no complaints." He patted Donna’s thigh and glared at her meaningfully.  “Do we, Sweetheart?”

_Benedict wants me to shut up.  He has no intention of telling Mom what Uncle Frank charged.  She looks like she’s going to explode.  
_

“Nope.  No complaints.”

“Well, I figured since your knowledge of jewelry is somewhat limited, Benedict…” continued Toni.

“I can assure you that it isn’t,” retorted Benedict.  “I did quite a bit of research while designing Donna’s ring; so I know when I’m being charged justly or being taken advantage of.”

“Oh, I didn’t think my brother would, but…”

“Then you have nothing to worry about do you?” said Benedict evenly.

“No.  I’m glad to hear my brother’s treated you well,” said Toni.

“Jolly good then.  We’re all in agreement that I've been treated well.”

Toni cast a glance towards Donna, who didn’t say a word.  Finally, she gave up and held out her hand towards her husband.  “Let me see the everyday ring, Neil.”

Neil passed the black velvet box to his wife, who held up the ring and carefully inspected it.

“Benedict, would you mind turning on that lamp next to you.  That one throws the best light,” asked Toni, getting up from her chair and crossing the room towards the couch. 

“Of course.”  As Benedict turned and switched on the lamp, his eyes landed on a black Mulberry leather handbag that was sitting on the end table.

_Blimey! If I didn’t know better, I’d think that was Mum’s handbag - funny how she and Antonia have the same taste._

 

 

“I love this ring, Donna,” Toni was saying as she perched on the arm of the couch beside Benedict.  “It’s very pretty and has a nice heft to it.”

“We needed something sturdy for Donna,” teased Benedict.

“Definitely, given her track record,” agreed Toni with a giggle.

“Hey!  Stop that you two!” exclaimed Donna.  “I’m not that bad, am I?”

Neither Toni nor Benedict responded.

“Well, let’s just say you’re accident-prone at times,” said Toni as diplomatically.  “So, how many rings did you look at before you decided on this one?”

“Hmmm…I think I tried on a total of five or six before I spied this ring.  I fell in love with it the minute I saw it.”

“I see you managed to sneak in a few tiny diamonds,” quipped Neil.  “I thought the idea was not to have any diamonds in it.”

“There aren’t that many, and they’re not going to attract unwanted attention.  You guys must really think I’m careless with jewelry,” scoffed Donna.

There was silence.   

_I also notice that not one of them has come to my defense.  
_

Donna noticed Benedict studying his watch. _  
_

_When I shattered the crystal on Ben’s watch, it was an accident.  It could have happened to anyone!  
_

“I didn’t see your watch when I put that Dutch oven on your desk.”

“Bloody hell, Donna!  That fucking thing is made of cast iron. It weighs a ton!”

“I just wanted to cool the stew off quicker by the window. There was such a nice breeze coming in.  I did take steps to protect the top of your desk by covering it with that bath towel.”

“And inadvertently covered my watch with it in the process.  I’ll never understand why you neglected to use the wire cooling rack?”

“I didn’t use it because you were already using it to dry your wet, muddy shoes on.”

“They were still wet from all the deep rain puddles I had to walk through from the tube station the day before, and I needed them to be dry for the next day.”

Toni scrunched up her nose in distaste. “Remind me not to eat in your house.”

 _Hmmm…I wonder if that’s a promise_ , thought Benedict.

“Benedict believes in having his kitchen equipment do double duty,” giggled Donna.  “You’d be surprised at the many creative uses he’s come up with for them besides cooking.”

“Try me,” challenged Neil.  “I love a good surprise.”

“She’s just taking the piss,” Benedict assured him, glaring daggers at Donna.

_Oh, no, I’m not, Benedict!  I’ve witnessed some of the wacky things you’ve done!_

“You two are some pair,” laughed Neil.  “It seems there’s never a dull moment when either of you is around.”

Donna saw him cast a meaningful glance at Toni, and they both smiled at each other as if thinking the same thing. _  
_

_I know what Mom and Dad are thinking, too.  How did I know the ruby in my ring was going to crack that time when I was playing air hockey in the Student Union?  
_

“Gosh!  The air hockey incident in college was a long time ago!”

“The first time we understood,” said Neil in a reasonable tone.

“The second and third times, not so much,” finished Toni.

“What exactly was the air hockey incident?” inquired Benedict.

_Oh, how Mom and Dad love to embarrass me!  Benedict will never let me live it down either._

“I was playing one night in the student union when my partner slammed the puck really hard across the table, so she could get a goal. Unfortunately, the puck went flying off the table and hit my ruby ring dead center,” explained Donna.  “It was an accident.”

“You should have seen the crack,” said Toni.  “I had no idea Patty could have smacked that puck with such force.”

“Patty was very competitive and had the strength of an ox.  You never saw  her in action,” insisted Donna.

“Patty was such a dainty waif-like girl to begin with,” Toni added as an aside to Benedict.  “It’s hard to imagine her doing that.”

“That could have happened to anyone,” Donna added defensively. “I’m super careful with my engagement ring.  I make sure to take if off and put it on the ring holder Benedict bought me.”

“They always say that diamonds are the hardest substance known to man, but they can still crack or shatter if hit just the right way,” commented Neil.

“Uncle Frank cautioned me as well.  I learned my lesson with the ruby – even if it took me three times for it to sink in.  I remove my ring when doing something considered risky. I would never take a chance with cracking the stones or scratching the setting. Isn’t that so, Ben Honey?”

There was silence from Benedict.  He seemed preoccupied with studying the black leather handbag on the table beside him.

_What the fuck is wrong with him?  Why is he not agreeing with me?  
_

_She’s worried about scratching the motherfucking setting.  What about my bits for fucks sake?_

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck and side-eyed her.  Their eyes met for a brief moment. His twinkled with amusement.

“Erm…yeah…I guess we can say you’ve taken extra care since…”

_Oh, shit!  No wonder he hasn’t come to my defense – he’s thinking about the night I accidentally scratched his dick.  Oh, shit! I hope he doesn’t say anything to them._

“…she inadvertently scratched me…”

_Oh good.  He’s not going to elaborate for once in his life.  Thank God. The mouth filter is on.  I never would have heard the end of that one._

“…erm…let’s just say it was a rather tender area.”

Neil and Toni both fixed their daughter with a look, their curiosity peaked.

 _I fucking can’t believe this.  Our daughter scratched his balls or his prick with it,_ thought Neil. 

 _Sounds like Donna got his genitals,_ thought Toni.  _The poor man. I hope he has decent medical insurance._   

_Jeez Louise!  Why did Benedict have to offer up that tidbit of information?  I can tell by the look on their faces that they’re now dying to know where I scratched him.  They must have an idea though.  Mom looks like she’s gonna burst out laughing._

“These petals are sharper than you might think,” offered Donna.  “I’ve accidentally scratched my arm with it.”

“After that incident, Donna has learnt never to wear it to bed.”

Donna saw a smile beginning to form on her father’s face.

_Thank you, Benedict. You might as well open your zipper and show them that it was just a surface scratch.  
_

“Lucky for you there was no permanent damage, Darling,” added Benedict with a trace of a smirk.  “We made sure to have it taken care of so there would be no chance of a repeat performance.” _  
_

“We told Aunt Sharon, and she arranged to have the edges filed and polished down a bit whilst we were there today.  You can’t even tell the difference.”

_My knob would know straight away._

“Well, we didn’t tell her _everything_ ,” snickered Benedict.  “That would have been a first for her, I’m sure.  Hell, it was a painful first for me.”

“I hope you’re okay soon,” said Toni with sincerity.  “Sometimes scratches can be deep and painful.”

_I hate it when Mom goes on one of her fishing expeditions for information, and my honey is the perfect fish to hook.  He’ll give up all the details sooner or later._

“Erm…yeah…it wasn’t a deep scratch.  It was just a surface one…a long one.  She didn’t even draw blood,” laughed Benedict.  “The paramount thing is that it hasn’t hampered my…”

“Yes, the important thing is no lasting damage was done, and we don’t have to worry anymore,” chimed in Donna, patting his knee harder than normal.  “End of story.”  She glared at Benedict to be quiet.

“I still don’t want to see you wearing it in bed,” said Benedict. _  
_

Neil and Toni glanced at each other, and Toni winked at him.  They both started to titter. 

“So let me have a closer look at your ring, Donna.  Hmm…these stones are tiny.  My glasses won’t be of much help.  I think I need my jeweler’s loop so I can have a better look.  Dear, could you please get my bag.”

“Oh, allow me,” said Benedict, leaning over and picking up the black handbag.  _Isn’t that interesting, Antonia and Mum had a scuff in the same place.  
_

Donna and Toni spoke at the same time. _  
_

“That’s not Mom’s bag,” said Donna.  “That’s…”

_Wanda’s bag!  I’d recognize that bag anywhere.  It’s got those scuffs near the bottom from her shoving it under the airplane seats._

“That’s not my bag,” said Toni.  “My bag is the brown Gucci over there on the floor.”

_Ah ha!  You’ve been caught in a lie, Antonia.  This is Mum’s bag. I should have known something funny was up after that weird Skype call.  They never went to Greece.  They had plans to fly here._

“Then whose bag is this, I wonder,” mused Benedict with a raised eyebrow.  “I have my suspicions.”

Benedict and Toni’s eyes met briefly as he opened the bag.  The first things he spied were his mother’s wallet and passport folder.  He got to his feet, holding the bag.

_Mum and Dad really are here!  I can’t believe it! I need to see them!_

“Where are you keeping them hidden then?” he asked with a sly smile.

“What’s going on?” inquired Donna.  “That bag looks just like Wanda’s.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” retorted Toni in a feeble attempt to keep up the pretense. 

Donna looked from her mother to her father.  “Really?  Wanda and Tim are here in this house?”

“This is Toni’s bag,” Neil said to Benedict, opening the Gucci bag and extracting the jeweler’s loop.

Benedict stared at Toni through narrowed eyes.  “And how do you explain this one then?  It’s not Donna’s.”

“That bag belongs to…umm…oh, hell!”

“It looks just like your mom’s bag,” Donna commented to Benedict.

“That’s because it is,” Benedict told her, taking out the passport folder and opening it.  He showed it to Donna.  “Look. It’s been stamped with today’s date. You may cease with the charade, Antonia. This proves that my parents are here.”

Neil handed Toni her jeweler’s loop.  “He’s figured it out, Toni.  They flew in early this morning, Ben. Pa and I picked them up at the airport.”

“I’m afraid you’ve been caught red-handed, Barrister,” Benedict said with an evil laugh.  “Besides the passport, I know my Mum’s bag when I see it.  It’s her travel handbag.  I can tell by the scuffs from having to shove it underneath the seat in front of her whenever she flies.”

Donna giggled.  “That sounded very Sherlock-like.”

“I wish the deduction scenes for Sherlock were that brief!” declared Benedict.  “You’ve read the script for _The Great Game_.  Those scenes are going to be the death of me!  I remember how tricky they were when we filmed the pilot.”

Toni sighed heavily with disappointment. “Damn!  They wanted to surprise you in the worst way, Benedict. Everything was going along so smoothly.”

“It’s alright,” replied Benedict with a soft smile.  “The fact that they’re here is what matters.”

The land line began to ring, and Neil answered it.  “Hello?  Yeah.  Unfortunately, it’s too late for that.  He already knows.  I’ll send him right up with it.” 

“I suppose that was Mum calling yes?”  Benedict asked with amusement.

“Yes,” Neil confirmed. “She was calling to warn us that she left her purse down here on the end table.  You might as well bring it upstairs to her and say hello.  They’re in the second room on right, facing the backyard.”

 

*******************************************************

 

“How in the hell could you have left it downstairs?” demanded Timothy.  “You know damn well Barrister Ben will spot it.”

“Don’t I know.  He’s carried that bag for me many times, so he’ll know it on sight.”

“Well, Commander, what’s the recovery plan?  We don’t want to blow our cover after all the pains we went through to keep this from him until Thanksgiving.”

“I know!  I’ll ring their landline and tell whoever answers that my handbag is down there and to hide it before Benedict sees it.”

“Brilliant idea!  Now, what exactly do you intend to ring them with?  Your mobile is in your fucking handbag.”

“Hells bells!  What about yours?”

“I can assure you that it’s not in my handbag.”

“Sod off, Timothy!  Give me your mobile so...never mind.  I'll use their landline.”

Wanda walked over to the bed and sat on the edge. There was a phone on the nightstand in between the two beds. “Oh, I’ll just ring one of their mobiles.”

“That should work, provided they have them turned on and with them.  Not everyone is glued to their mobiles like you are.”

Wanda picked up the handset and looked at Timothy.  “Shit! Their numbers are in my mobile contact list.”

“Which is downstairs in your handbag.”

“Precisely.”

“Not to worry, Commander.” Timothy opened the drawer of the nightstand and removed his mobile.  “A good foot soldier is always prepared for a crisis.”  He scrolled through his list of contacts.  “Here, you might as well ring their landline just in case they have their mobiles turned off or going straight to voicemail.”

“Thanks.”  Wanda pressed the icon for the landline, and Neil picked it up after three rings.

_“Hello?”_

“It’s Wanda.  I’m calling to let you know that I inadvertently left my handbag on the table beside the couch that’s nearest the fireplace.”

_“Yeah.  Unfortunately, it’s too late for that.  He already knows.  I’ll send him right up with it.”_

Wanda handed the mobile back to Timothy.  “You won’t have to wait long for your medicine.  Barrister Ben is on his way up with my bag.”

There was a knock on the door. 

“Come in, Ben!” called out Timothy.

 

*******************************************************

 

Benedict mounted the stairs two at a time to the second floor with growing excitement.  _I can't believe they flew all this way to surprise us.  I can't wait to see them!_  

"Hey!  Aren't you going to wait for me?"  came Donna's voice from behind him.

_Hmmm...I was hoping to have a little time alone with Mum and Dad before we have to leave; but it sounds like Donna's right behind me._

"Slow down, Ben!  I want to say hello, too!"

Benedict reached the landing and waited for Donna to catch up with him.  "Christ, you're slow," he teased.

"Your legs are miles longer, so you have the advantage."

"This way then?" Benedict asked, pointing down the hallway.

"Yep. Just follow me," said Donna, leading the way to the room where his parents were staying.  "I keep forgetting that this is your first time upstairs."

"There wasn't time for the whole house tour on Sunday.  We were pressed for time with all the shopping and menu planning and whatnot."

"Here we are!  The guest bedroom!"  Donna stood aside so Benedict could knock on the door.

Benedict rapped on the door with his knuckles, and Timothy's voice immediately responded from inside the room.

“Come in, Ben!” 

Benedict opened the door to find his parents smiling widely at him.  "I believe you've been looking for this yes?" he said holding out the bag to Wanda.

"Surprise!" said Wanda and Timothy in unison as Benedict approached them and gathered them into a group hug. 

"I can't believe I'm actually stood here in the same room with you both.  I'm so over the moon that you came all this way!"

"We wouldn't miss out on celebrating your engagement for anything in the world!" exclaimed Wanda.

"Especially since Colin got us a special excursion airfare," added Timothy.

Donna watched the three of them exchanging hugs and kisses.  It made her feel all warm and happy inside.  Suddenly, Benedict turned to her and opened his arm to her.  "Hey!  How about giving your future in-laws a proper greeting?"

"I didn't want to intrude on the moment," said Donna as she joined them for a hug.  "I'm so happy you decided to come over."

"It was your parents' idea that we come and stay here as their guests," explained Timothy. 

"They felt it important that we all be together to celebrate," added Wanda.

_I'd believe it was Mom's idea, but not Dad's.  He must have hit the ceiling when she suggested it._

"It was very generous of your parents to open their home like this," Benedict said to Donna. 

"Wasn't it though?" agreed Wanda.  "This room is beautiful."

"It's just like being in a five-star luxury hotel," added Timothy.

Benedict looked around and whistled softly.  "I'd venture to say it's a fuck of a lot nicer than a five-star hotel!"

"It's gorgeous!" exclaimed Donna, walking around the room.  "Mom must have just had it redone again.  It didn't look like this that last time I was up here back in January."

"Come see the loo," suggested Timothy.

As soon as the men had disappeared into the bathroom, Donna and Wanda grinned at each other.

"Let me see your ring up close, Donna."

Donna held out her hand while Wanda looked it over.  "It's a stonker all right! Skype didn't do it justice."

"I'm so happy, Wanda.  I keep pinching myself to assure myself we're really engaged.  I wasn't expecting it."

"Ben's completely over the moon and feels the same."

"We have a wedding date picked out:  December fourth of next year.  I'm so excited!"

Wanda glanced back over her shoulder to make sure Benedict was out of earshot. Timothy was giving a demonstration of the multiple shower heads that were inside the walk-in shower. She gave Donna Saint James a fierce hug.  Neither of them heard the water shut off.

"The Plan is rolling along now,” said Wanda excitedly. “We’re half way there, Love!" 

“I know, but part of me is still nervous that he’s going to find out.” 

“We just have to make sure to be extra vigilant about keeping things close to our vests then.”

 “What is ‘he’ going to find out?” inquired Benedict with a cheeky grin.  “What exactly are you two cooking up?”

Donna and Wanda both jumped at the sound of Benedict’s deep baritone voice as he strode across the room to join them. Timothy was right behind him, glaring daggers at them both. 

 _They’re cooking up a big pot of loose tongue soup_ , thought Timothy.  _And now they’ve managed to capture Barrister Ben’s attention.  
_

_Hells bells!  Where did he come from?  Just a moment ago they were in the loo inspecting the bloody shower.  Think, Wanda, think!  I need to get him off the scent.  Donna looks like she’s going to spill the beans.  
_

“To be frank, none of your business,” retorted Donna firmly.  “You don’t have to know _everything_ , do you, Benedict?”

Wanda and Timothy appeared gob-smacked at Donna’s response.

 _The poor lamb has no idea who she’s talking to, bless her_ , thought Wanda.  _That response will not deter Barrister Ben from his line of questioning.  He may stop now, but will only pick up where he left off later on.  
_

_These two gits have gotten us into a right mess this time,_ thought Timothy angrily _.  If one of them doesn’t deter him, Donna will be returning that ring._

Benedict wrapped his arm around Donna’s shoulders and kissed her on the cheek.  He smiled the same cheeky smile as he crinkled his nose at her.

“Erm…yes, I do, actually.  You know what an insatiable appetite I have for finding out secrets.”  He winked at Wanda.  “Isn’t that so, Mum?”

Wanda nodded as the panic welled up inside as her son’s ice blue eyes bore into hers.  “You’ve always been high up on the list when it comes to being nosy.” 

“ _Curious_ , Mum.  I’m curious is all.  Now, as you both were.  What were your two chatting about?”

“I think I already told you that this is none of your business,” insisted Donna.  “Now, please stop with the cross examination, Ben Honey.  I’m going to be getting enough questions from the lawyer sitting downstairs with the jeweler’s loop.  I don’t need to be questioned by you, too!”

_There.  That should do it.  He’ll go into a sulk for a little while, but it will be worth it. Then he’ll apologize for being a pain in the ass and we’ll go over to Sarah and Matt’s as if nothing happened._

However, to Donna’s horror, Benedict nuzzled her neck in response.  “Come on, out with it, Love! You know damn well you’re going to tell me anyway.”

_Oh no, I’m not, Benedict!   Not this time!_

_Bollocks!  Time to do some quick damage control_ , thought Timothy.  _These two are going to cock it up royally if they keep blathering on._

“And you know what they say about curiosity and the cat,” chimed in Timothy as he stepped out from behind his son and clapped him on the back.  “Your persistence has forced my hand, I’m afraid.”

 _What in the heck is Tim talking about?_   Thought Donna as her throat tightened.  _Is this a ruse to distract Benedict from doing his Barrister Ben thing? Oh my God!  I hope Tim’s not planning to tell him the truth!  I should be the one to do that.  
_

“Tim, can I see you…”

 _For fucks sake!  This little dolly bird needs to be quiet and let me handle things,_ thought Timothy.

Timothy raised his hand to silence Donna.

“They didn’t want you to find out about the surprise engagement party that Donna’s parents are hosting so you can meet the family.  There.  Has your frightfully irritating thirst for the truth been finally quenched, _Barrister_?”

Donna stared at her future father-in-law, mouth agape.  _What engagement party?  Neither Mom nor Dad said anything to me about an engagement party!  Hmmm…well Tim just said it was a surprise.  
_

Wanda frowned at her husband’s declaration.  _What fresh hell is this?  Party?  The only surprise that I know of is that Toni was having an engagement cake made up for Ben and Donna as a surprise on Thanksgiving.  As far as I know, just her parents and Colin are going to be here for dinner.  Then her sister and two of her brothers:  the cop and the one Ben said must be connected to the Mafia were stopping by after dinner with their families for pudding and to meet Ben.   The brother who has the jewelry store lives in New Jersey and can’t come over.  
_

Benedict raised an eyebrow at his father.  “If this party is supposed to be a surprise, then why does Donna know about it?”  Then he turned to Donna.  “Well then?”

Wanda huffed indignantly.  “If you really must know then…”

“I must,” affirmed Benedict with a slight nod of his head.

“Whilst you were off taking a tour of the loo, Donna told me that she got an odd text from her friend, Sarah, about what she should wear to the party Friday night.”   _Now, let’s hope Donna will be able to pick up on this and do some embellishment rather than stand there looking guilty as fuck._

“Now, that _is_ odd being we’re only going to be seeing her in what…half an hour or less?” Chortled Benedict.  "And exactly when did you get this text? Your mobile has been tucked away in your handbag since we left the house this morning."

 _What in the hell is Wanda doing?_ Thought Donna.  _Does she not realize that I’m going to be alone with him once we get back to my place with a whole night ahead of him to question me?  I’m going to have to drag Sarah into the kitchen as soon as we get there and tell her the whole convoluted story. Knowing her, she’s going to think I was nuts to begin with and will actively support the ‘Tell Benedict the Truth Movement’ as does Daddy.  Crap!_

_My beautiful wife displays a fine and splendid talent for deep hole digging. The woman should have considered a career as a miner, but with her tongue.  
_

“I got Sarah's text when we were having lunch, and you were using the bathroom,” replied Donna.  “I knew absolutely nothing about a party, so I texted her back and she said the engagement party my parents were throwing.”

“That’s right,” confirmed Wanda.  “Donna, forever the curious one as well, just asked me if I knew anything about the party.”

“You know what I can be like when I’m being curious,” giggled Donna.  "Though not as bad as he is!"

"True.  The Barrister is in a league of his own," scoffed Timothy. _So far, this is a plausible scenario_ _.  Let’s just hope to heaven that they don’t overdo it and toss in extra rubbish details that they don’t need and will only cock things up at a later date._

“And being her friend had already spilled the beans, I confirmed it.  What was I to do?” asked Wanda, spreading her hands helplessly.

“I didn’t want to spoil the surprise for you, too, Honey; so we agreed not to tell you,” explained Donna.

 _Well done them.  Donna is a credit to her secondary  school drama teacher,_ thought Timothy.

Benedict looked from his fiancée to his mother.  _Mum said the Plan was half way there.  I guess they were talking about from the time Antonia started making preparations._

“And speaking of Sarah, we’d better get going, Benedict, or we’ll be late for dinner!”

“Don’t let us keep you,” said Timothy.  “Now, not a word of this to Donna’s parents’, Ben.  You don’t want to spoil another surprise for them after all the planning they’ve put into it.” 

“No, of course not.  I’ll act surprised when we get to the venue, which is where?”

 _Fuck me!_ Thought Timothy. _Now, we need to come up with a venue. I'm going to bang my head against one of these walls once he's taken leave._

 _Damn him and that nosiness!_ Thought Wanda.

 _Just when you think you’re out of the water, he comes up with something else; and I committed myself to a lifetime of this,_ thought Donna.

“Something has to remain a secret!” Scolded Wanda.  “Donna tried to get it out of me, but I wouldn’t divulge it. Don’t you want to have something to be surprised about?”

“You’re right,” sighed Benedict.  “I’ll next see you two on Thanksgiving then.  We’ll be tied up all day tomorrow selecting prospective gifts for our US Wedding List.”

“Which store are you using?” inquired Wanda.

“Bloomingdales,” replied Donna.  “They have the best Wedding Registry service around.”

“You’ll both need to do that once you’re back in London.  I’ve been getting inquiries from family and friends wanting to send engagement gifts already,” said Wanda.

“Where do you suggest as the best store for that?” asked Donna.

“Selfridges,” replied Wanda.  “Tracy and Derrick had their Wedding List there.”

 _Hmmm..I notice that Mum didn’t offer her services as a Wedding Consultant,_ thought Benedict.  _I was sure she’d be dying to come along to offer advice._

“See you at the parade on Thursday!” said Donna, hugging Wanda and Timothy goodbye.

“What parade?” Timothy whispered into Benedict’s ear as they hugged.

“It’ll be a surprise, Dad.  I don’t want to spoil it for you,” whispered Benedict.  He pulled back and winked at his father.

Once Benedict and Donna had left the room, Timothy and Wanda both heaved a huge sigh of relief and collapsed into each other’s arms. 

“Hells bells!  That was a close call!  I nearly shat myself.”

“It was too close for comfort, Pet.  You and Donna must learn not to speak of the Plan or anything related to it whilst Barrister Ben is about.”

“Lesson learnt. You saved the day with your brilliant improvisational skills!”

“Well done you as well, Commander.  Your improvisational skills are improving,” quipped Timothy.  “Donna was fairly quick on the pickup and also deserves kudos.”  He toed off his shoes and stretched out on the twin bed he had undressed earlier.  “Ahhhhhhh…this bed is nice and comfy.  I think I’ll have a kip before dinner.”

“Don’t get too comfortable,” said Wanda, watching her husband adjust the goose down-filled pillow underneath his head.

There was a knock on the door.  Wanda opened it to find a worried-looking Toni. “They’ve finally gone, but they were both acting strange.  Did something happen up here that we need to know about?”

“As a matter of fact, yes, and we were just coming down to fill you in,” replied Wanda.

“I hope it’s nothing bad.  I’m getting stressed enough over Thanksgiving dinner.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say it was bad.  I’m just going to freshen up first.”

“Great.  You can fill us in over cocktails.  Neil loves an excuse to play bar tender.”

As soon as Toni had left the room, Wanda clapped her hands together.  “She thinks she’s stressed now.  Wait until I drop the bomb shell on her that’s she needs to put together an engagement party in time for Friday night.”

“You lied to her, Commander.  It’s not only bad – It qualifies as a full-fledged disaster in the making.  I can’t see how she’s going to pull something like that off with next to no notice.”

Wanda headed towards the bathroom.  “Toni’s always boasting as to who she knows and how she can always call in favours. This will be a true test of her skills. As soon as I’m done, we can go down.”

“You can go down. I distinctly recall saying I want to have a lie down – multiple times now, and I don’t fancy imbibing one of the wanker’s fairy pee drinks.  Ben told me in the loo that the man makes the worst gin and tonic he’s ever had.”

“As you like then,” said Wanda Ventham with an air of indifference.  “But are you sure you want to miss out on this? I have a feeling Neil Saint James will be making extra strong drinks once I tell them that they need to put together an impromptu engagement party for Friday night.”

 

 

 

  

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. The NYC 47th Street Jewelry Exchange is a must-see when visiting NYC. It is amazing to watch the goings on and the transactions. One can also save a substantial amount of money. I could not find a good photo of the actual inside of the building.
> 
> 2\. I could envision the real life Benedict coming up with the idea to design Donna's wedding ring as well as the engagement ring. 
> 
> 3\. This story will be going on hiatus for the remainder of the summer due to family commitments and vacation. The next chapter won't be posted until Sunday, September 4th.


	139. Chapter 139

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 1 of Thanksgiving Day with the Cumberbatch and Saint James families. Donna gives Benedict a ride to remember. Dessert takes a spin in creativity. 
> 
> Note: I’ll be using ******* for things happening at the same time.

 

Benedict Cumberbatch and Donna Saint James had been stood inside the garage of her brownstone stowing the desserts they had baked in the boot of Donna’s little red Porsche.  They had returned immediately after the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade in order to load up the car with the pies they had baked the night before.  Carly and Steven were still upstairs getting their contributions to dinner together and said they would follow shortly. 

“Is that everything then?” Benedict asked Donna as he placed the last pie in the boot and straightened up.  “There still seems to be room for them to move about.  Are you sure you don’t fancy having one last look?” 

“Nope!  You’re worrying for nothing, Benedict. They will be fine.  I’ve done this before and never had a problem.” 

“You’re quite sure you don’t want to leave them in the hamper then?” 

“Yep!  I don’t want to take any chances with them getting ruined. The hamper is only meant to carry them from the garage to my parents’ house.” 

_She’s wrong.  Those pies are safer in the picnic hamper than sitting in a nice, neat row with only the cargo net to hold them in place.  They aren’t even covered all that tightly by the cling film._

Benedict gave her a skeptical look.  “Perhaps we should wrap the tin foil a bit more tightly around the tops, so you don’t wind up with broken crusts or spilt fillings.” 

“That’s exactly why I covered them loosely!  I don’t want to lose my crumbs or risk the fancy crust flutes breaking off.  It took a long time to cut out those leaves!” 

“It sure as shit did!  I was the one sat with that tiny biscuit cutter painstakingly making them, so you could just lay them on top of the crust to give it that posh touch,” Benedict reminded her with an amused twinkle in his ice blue eyes. 

“I thought we’re not supposed to refer to things as posh as it pisses you off.” 

“That’s right.  It does,” snickered Benedict.  “I can say it, but you can’t.”  

“There’s nothing more heartwarming than a good old-fashioned double standard,” said Donna with a smirk. 

“I appreciate your efforts to banish the word posh from your vocabulary.” 

“Whatever makes you happy, Honey.” 

_She’s trying to pacify me.  Letting me repack those bloody pies in the picnic hamper would make me happy, but her mind is made up.  
_

“What about the chocolate cream and the lemon meringue pies?  Those are only covered loosely with cling film.  How about if I just wrap them up a bit tighter?” 

Donna looked horrified at his suggestion.  “Don’t you dare touch that plastic wrap! I don’t want to spoil my peaks!  That meringue is perfect and it took Carly so long to pipe the whipped cream onto the chocolate pudding into those little stars.” 

“Does your family fancy cobbler?” 

Donna did a double take.  “What?” 

“If you make any sudden turns or stops and starts, you might wind up with a boot full of cobbler.” 

“Is that why you insisted on lining the floor of the trunk with that clean bath sheet?” 

Benedict nodded.  “Precisely.  If something totally unexpected were to happen, that would be a right mess to clean up.” 

Donna narrowed her eyes at him and frowned. “Nothing is going to happen.  This car is known for its smooth ride, plus I’m a very safe and careful driver as you know damn well.” 

“Yeah, I can attest to that.  I’ve never had an issue with you driving.” 

“Good.  Now, let’s get underway.  I don’t want to miss the hot spiced apple cider!” 

“Brilliant! I adore hot mulled cider!” 

“It’s not the kind you’re used to.  This isn’t hard cider, nor is there liquor in it.  It’s just plain sweet cider with cinnamon sticks and orange peels studded with cloves that’s simmered on the stove until hot.” 

_Hmmm…I really should offer to let Benedict drive my car.  He’s been looking it over ever since we came in the garage.  I know he’s dying to take it for a spin._

“If you’re absolutely certain that the pies are properly stored then…” 

“I’m one hundred percent certain, Benedict!  Come on!  We’re going to be late!” Donna replied. 

Benedict slammed the boot lid shut. “I had serious doubts that everything would fit, but the boot is surprisingly roomy.” 

Donna giggled.  “It’s roomy unless one is packing like you tend to do for trips.  Then it’s cramped.”  She suddenly tossed Benedict her car keys as she went around to the passenger side of the sports car.  “Catch!”

Benedict caught the key case and frowned at her. “What’s this for?” 

“I thought you might like to drive my Porsche down to my parents.” 

Benedict’s eyes lit up at her words.  He ran his hand over the body of the sleek red car.  _You have no idea just how much I fancy that idea…but she was just saying how much she misses driving her car.  Maybe I’ll take it out for a test drive Saturday morning.  
_

“No…no…I think you should have the honour.  You keep saying how much you miss driving your car…” 

Donna raised a skeptic eyebrow at him.  “I’ve already had several chances to drive since I’ve been home.  I thought you’d be chomping at the bit to get behind the wheel of this baby.” 

_Oh, I am…I am.  I’ve been dying to drive this beast since the day I first laid eyes on it. Motherfucker!  I didn’t think to take my IDP.  
_

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck.  “Erm…what if I were to have an accident?” 

“My mom will get you out of any trouble.” 

I love how confident Donna is in her mum’s legal ability to sort anything out. 

“I’m sure she could, bless her.” 

“All you need is your International Driver’s License.  Do you have it with you?” 

“Erm…no, I’m sad to say.  I left my IDP in London.  I didn’t think I’d have an opportunity to do any driving whilst here.” Benedict tossed the keys back to her.  “You’re going to have to drive.” 

Once they were settled inside the car, Donna used her remote to open the garage door and start the car.  The engine purred to life. 

“Very impressive.  I can barely hear it,” observed Benedict, running his hand appreciatively over the leather seats.  “Nice interior indeed.  These seats are as soft as butter.” 

“You’re going to love this little feature, which I could swear was designed with couples like us in mind!” exclaimed Donna, pressing some buttons on the touch panel. “Behold: His and hers climate controls, plus…” 

“Ahhhhh!  I do believe I feel heat on my bum! That’s bloody genius!” 

“Isn’t it the best idea ever? I love these heated seats in the winter.  They also cool in the summer, though I have a feeling you would _never_ use that feature,” teased Donna.  

Benedict reached out over the console and touched her seat. “Piss off, Darling.  I can feel you’re taking advantage of the heated seat as well.” 

Donna put the car in gear and slowly drove it out of the garage and made a left turn onto East Sixty-fifth Street.  Benedict noted that the garage door automatically started to close once they had cleared it.  “I love that I don’t have to get out and close the garage door,” she said. 

“Even if you didn’t have an automatic one, the manual one would close it for you.” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“I’d be the one to get out and close it for you – hence I would be the manual one,” joked Benedict. 

“As soon as we get to Lexington Avenue, I should be able to open her up a bit. Wait until you see how quickly I can accelerate from zero to sixty!” 

“I didn’t think one could go over twenty-five on a New York City street,” snickered Benedict.  

“Oh, it’s a holiday! There won’t be much traffic.  If we don’t hit all the lights, we can make it to Gramercy in twenty minutes or less.” 

Benedict felt his pulse quicken as Donna expertly maneuvered the Porsche down the street as if it were a speedway.  He clutched the arm rest as she barely made it past a few double-parked cars with inches to spare.  _Christ on a crutch!  I thought for sure she was going to scrape one of them! That was a close call._   

“How about some music?” Donna inquired as her fingers flew over the buttons on the dashboard.  

“Erm…well…that might be nice.”

The sound of Elbow filled the passenger compartment. 

“Oh…that’s quite a lovely sound system,” marveled Benedict as they hurtled down Sixty-Fifth Street towards Lexington Avenue.  _I wish she’d slow down just a little, so I can enjoy it.  
_

Half a block ahead Benedict spotted a man hop into a double-parked van and look in his side view mirror as the Porsche approached.  

“Erm…you might want to mind the van on the left, Donna. He looks as though he might pull out…” 

Donna blasted the horn at the van as the driver began to pull out in front of them.  “Bastard!  I hate it when they double park.” 

“I think I would have yielded to him,” remarked Benedict, looking down at his hands.  His knuckles were white from clutching the arm rests. 

“Why should I?  I have the right of way!”

“Because that van was much larger than this car is…HOLY FUCK!” 

Donna did a hairpin turn onto Lexington Avenue and came to an abrupt stop as she waited for some pedestrians to finish crossing the street.  Benedict felt the shoulder harness pull tight against his chest, forcing him back against the bucket seat. 

“For fucks sake!” he cursed under his breath. 

“Notice how responsive these brakes are.  They can stop on a dime!” bragged Donna.  “If Lex is empty, I’ll do it again for you.” 

“No! God, no! Please don’t feel the need to do it again on my account. I definitely felt the brakes kick in.  There’s no need to demonstrate like that, Love.  I believe you, really I do.  Once was more than adequate.” 

Donna gazed at him through narrowed eyes.  “I had to stop.  Pedestrians have the right of way regardless.” 

“Oh, I know that…whoa!” 

The intersection was cleared and Donna hit the accelerator.  The car leapt forward as they seemed to rocket down Lexington Avenue.  Benedict held on for dear life as Donna expertly maneuvered down the semi-crowded avenue, weaving in and out of traffic.  

“See how fast I can accelerate!” 

“Yeah…that’s very impressive.  Just as advertised.” 

“Isn’t this exhilarating, Benedict?!” 

“Well…I don’t know if I’d call it exhilarating.” _Terrifying and frightening come to mind instead.  
_

“This is such a treat for me!  It’s rare that you can go much over twenty-five with normal traffic – and forget the rush hour.  You just sit and crawl along at five miles an hour!” 

_And today is my lucky day that traffic is on the light side. I'm truly blessed. Damn my luck!_

“Erm…it’s …erm…um…oh, God…Donna, I think you could slow down just a tad… _please!_ ” 

“I’m only going forty,” insisted Donna.  “Look!” she gestured to the digital speedometer.  “See?  Forty.” 

“It seems so much faster.” 

“Am I making you nervous, Ben?  Son of a bitch cab!!!  How dare you cut me off!” 

“YES!” blurted out Benedict. “Yes, you are making me _very_ nervous.  Please mind the motherfucking bus on the right!!!” 

_Oh my God, he sounds just like Hyacinth Bucket telling Richard to mind everything when they’re driving.  That’s hilarious!_

“Minding the bus…” said Donna. 

“Erm…that lorrie on the left is getting a bit close, don’t you think?” 

Donna blinked in puzzlement as her eyes scanned the road. “What in the fuck is a lorrie?” 

“That big motherfucking truck that’s about to sideswipe us on the right!” 

“Oh.  Damn him!  I don’t think we’re going to make that light now.  I don’t know where all this frigging traffic came from!  It’s a holiday for God’s sake!” 

“Um…Donna…what about that elderly gentleman about to step off the pavement?   Mind him now.  We don’t need a hood ornament.” 

_Okay, his imitation of Hyacinth isn’t as funny when it’s being done to me._

“Yes, _Hyacinth!”_ snarled Donna. “I’m minding the road, cars, bikes, trucks _and_ all the pedestrians, including their pets.  There’s no need to keep harping on it.  I can see everything just fine.  My eyesight is twenty-twenty.” 

“That was very cheeky, Love,” said Benedict in a petulant tone. “Don’t think for one minute that I didn’t catch the reference to _Keeping Up Appearances_.” 

“It’s one of my favorite British comedy shows.  Your dad was in one of the episodes.  He played a Rolls Royce salesman.” 

“And Mum was in a _Hetty Wainthrope_ episode with Patricia Routledge several years ago,” added Benedict.  “They still keep in touch.” 

“Grandpa used to watch that series, too; but I don’t recall seeing your mom in it…..FUCK YOU!”  Donna swerved to avoid a collision with a cab and leaned on her horn.  “Prick!  These cabs think they own the fucking road!” 

“Mum was in an episode about patients in hospital having their homes burgled.  Umm…Donna…you’re getting a little too close to that car in front of us…STOP!  PLEASE STOP!” 

“Oh, Ben!  I’ve got plenty of room!  If you don’t follow them closely, someone else will cut in!” 

“So I’ve noticed; but we’re not in a race, are we?” 

“No.  Of course not. I’ll change the CD to something more mellow so you'll calm down.  Now, sit back and relax.” 

“I can’t!  You’re making me nauseous with these abrupt stops and starts.  I feel like I’m on a ride in a bloody amusement park!” 

“Gosh, Benedict.  This isn’t very promising behavior for when we go to Epcot and ride Test Track.  You’re going to freak on the crash barrier test right before we go out on the track.” 

“For fucks sake, Donna!  I don’t need to go on Test Track!  I’m sure this is far more terrifying than that ride could ever be!” 

Donna reached out and patted his knee. “Close your eyes, Honey, and take a deep breath,” she said soothingly. “You’re not used to New York City driving.  You have to be a little aggressive or they’ll cut you off every chance they get.” 

_Who is this mysterious ‘they’ she keeps referring to?  Ah, yes, all the other crazy drivers._

“This is not what I deem a little aggressive – you’re driving like a madwoman!  Is this what they call road rage?  Because if it is, you’re doing a fucking marvelous job of demonstrating it!” 

Donna blew her horn at a car that cut her off and came to a stop in front of them.  Benedict closed his eyes and pressed his feet against the floorboards in vain as they screeched to a stop.  _She’s going to fucking kill us!_

“Damn him!”  Donna blew her horn again and gave the cabbie the finger.  “Sometimes I wish this horn were louder.” 

“You don’t have to feel the need to demonstrate the horn.  I’ve heard it already – several times.” 

_She loves that fucking horn, bless her. If we were in London, and this were my car, I’d find a way to disable that fucking horn.  
_

_Why does he have his feet pressed against the floor as if he were trying to brake?  Daddy used to do that sometimes when he was teaching Carly and me to drive._

“The brake doesn’t work on your side,” Donna teased him. 

_That’s too bad_ , thought Benedict. 

“What happened to my adrenaline junkie? You’re the man who goes skydiving, para –gliding, snowboarding and hot-air ballooning for kicks.  I can’t believe you’ve turned into such a wuss over a little car ride!” 

“Erm…I imagine this is what being the Star in a Reasonably Priced Car segment of _Top Gear_ is like – but I’m not the one in control of driving the bloody car nor do I have the security of wearing a crash helmet!” 

“Stop making fun of my driving, Benedict!  That _Top Gear_ segment is lap driving.  I’m giving you some variety!” 

“That’s too much variety for my liking.  Please mind the fucking light that just turned yellow!  The sign says this is a red light camera intersection.” 

“Don’t worry! We’ll make it across the intersection easy,” promised Donna as they crossed over the intersection.  She cast a sideways glance at Benedict just in time to see him grab onto the arm rest that was built into the door. “You’re not nervous like this whenever I’m driving you in London.” 

_I’m not nervous because you’re just learning how to drive a manual transmission, so you’re still cautious. Donna’s on her own turf now and feels cocky. Give it time, Benedict. She’ll be driving all over London just like this before you know it.  Only now do I fully understand why Dad always insists on driving when it’s just him and Mum.  Mum’s a wild one herself once she gets behind the wheel. She still envisions herself in that cool MG sports car she used to have before I was born, and they traded it in for the Mini Cooper._

“I’m not all that comfortable driving in New York City traffic as is, and you’re driving a little on the wild side, no offense intended.” 

“None taken.  This is called ‘Defensive Driving New York City Style’ – very different from driving in London.” 

“I’ll say it is,” mumbled Benedict. “When does this motherfucking ride come to an end? I really need to get off soon, as I’m seriously getting nauseous.” 

“In about two minutes,” replied Donna, turning the corner onto Gramercy Park South.  “Damn!  I thought we might be able to snag free street parking, today but it looks like others had the same idea.” 

“So they have access to the posh private park, but no resident parking spaces like I have in London?” 

“Yes and yes.  There is no parking allowed directly in front of my parents’ house, which they like.  However, they don’t like the hassle of dealing with the alternate side of the street parking crap so they pay a monthly fee to garage their car.  There:  Manhattan Parking Group.  We’re going to use their garage because I don’t feel like circling the block on the off chance that someone decides to vacate their parking space.” 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been as happy to see a car park as I am right now!” 

“What was that?” Donna asked as the parking attendant approached the car and she opened the window allowing the cold air to chill the inside of the car causing Benedict to raise the temperature of his heated seat. 

“Hi, Donna!  Long time, no see!  Here for turkey day with the folks?” 

“Yep.  This is my fiancé, Benedict,” said Donna proudly. “Ben, this is Dave.” 

“Hey!” said Dave. “Congratulations.  Nice to meet you, Ben.” 

Benedict nodded to Dave.  “Thanks.  Nice to meet you as well.” 

“Your parents mentioned you had gotten engaged when they dropped the Lexus off last week.  They never said you were marrying a Brit though.” 

“No, I wouldn’t have imagined they did,” snickered Benedict, glancing at Donna. “So, why don’t you pop open the boot, Love; so I can remove what’s left of the pies,” suggested Benedict as he unfastened his seat belt and got out of the car. 

_He’s such a wiseass._   “The pies are fine.  You’ll see,” said Donna, pressing the button that popped open the trunk. 

Benedict looked in the boot of the car and grimaced.  “That’s what you think, Sweetheart.  You’re going to thank me for insisting on the bath towel.  Might your picnic hamper come equipped with one of those large serving spoons?” 

“We’ll be here most of the day, Dave,” Donna said to the attendant, who gave her a claim ticket. Then she turned her attention back to Benedict.  “I’m having trouble hearing you, Honey.” 

“I asked if you could fetch me a large spoon so I can scoop the remnants of the pies into the hamper.” 

“I still can’t hear you with your head in the trunk.” 

Benedict stood up straight and addressed her. “Remember when I asked if your family fancies cobbler.” 

Donna’s face suddenly took on an alarmed expression. “Okay!  I’m sorry I made you nervous with my driving.  Please stop being such a pain in the ass with the teasing!  That wouldn’t be funny.” 

“I’m not trying to be funny.  I’m serious.  If you don’t believe me, Donna, I suggest you come back around here and have a look for yourself,” Benedict invited her, as he stepped back. “That cargo net is not all it’s cracked up to be I’m afraid.” 

_Why am I suddenly afraid to look? He’s got to be playing with me.  Benedict loves nothing more than to push my buttons and this must qualify as one of those times._ Donna took a moment to study his face.  _However, I can usually tell by the way the corners of his mouth begin to curl up whether or not he’s joking.  He’s dead serious.  Now, I’m petrified of what I’m going to find back there._

Donna hesitantly walked around to the back of the car and peered into the trunk to see that Benedict was indeed right.  Even with the cargo net to hold the pie plates in place, they had still moved around against each other, causing pieces of the carefully-sculpted crusts to break off.  The apple pie had lost chunks of its crumb topping in addition to most of its filling.  The whipped cream topping on the chocolate cream pie was mashed into the plastic wrap, and the meringue had shifted on the lemon pie, causing some of the lemon filling to spill onto the towel. The worst casualties were the pumpkin and mincemeat pies, which had turned upside down during one of Donna’s hairpin turns and subsequently stopping short in order to avoid rear-ending another car. 

“Shit!” She wailed, clapping her hands over her mouth.  

“One could say that.” 

“What a fucking disaster!” 

“That might be a little melodramatic, Donna.  Catastrophe:  yes.  Disaster:  no.” 

“Carly’s going to kill me!  These fucking pies are ruined!  I don’t get it.  I’ve never had this problem before.” 

“This is a prime example of why I never use my cargo net.” 

“That’s because you don’t have one.” 

"Oh, but I do.  I just don’t fancy using it because I find the stuff still moves around unless it’s packed super-tightly, which these were not.” 

“Those pies weren’t supposed to move.” 

“Erm…I recall you didn’t want to crowd them, so they had plenty of room to slide merrily around during Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride.  Had you kept them all snug in the hamper, this wouldn’t have happened.” 

“Very funny, Benedict.” 

“And you don’t think I know my Disney trivia,” said Benedict with a smug grin.  “Mr. Toad was one of my favorite rides when we went to Florida that time.” 

“Go ahead.  Say it.  I know you’re dying to,” groaned Donna.  

Benedict looked puzzled. “Say what?” 

“I can see it in your eyes, Benedict. You’re going to burst if you don’t say it, so you might as well get it over with.” 

“Okay then.  Your overly-enthusiastic driving technique didn’t help matters.” 

Donna nodded her head in agreement and looked as if she might burst into tears.  _There’s no sense in crying over a fait accompli, Donna.  At least he didn’t yell at me, and I appreciate that._   

_Oh, Christ, I hope to hell she’s not going to have a meltdown right here in the bloody garage.  We’ll find a way to make it right._

She looked him in the eye and smiled slightly at him.  “Only you can find a diplomatic way of saying:  Donna, you drove like a motherfucking maniac.  You always manage to take the sting out of it.  Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome.  Now, is there a bakery in the vicinity that’s open?  We can buy some replacements.” 

Donna shook her head.  “I doubt it. Any bakeries that opened are sure to be closed by now,” she replied sadly.  

“I still think we should call around to the ones in the immediate area on the off chance that one’s still open and actually have pies.  It couldn’t hurt.” 

It only took them ten minutes to discover that Donna was correct and there were no bakeries open that had any pies left.  Dave had given them one of the coveted, prime parking spaces right in front of the office; so they could straighten out what to do with the mess in the trunk of Donna’s car. 

“What in the hell am I going to do with this mess?” Donna sighed heavily.  “Everyone will be expecting pies for dessert, and all I have here is glop!” 

“There’s nothing wrong with the pies per se.  They are still perfectly edible – they’re just not…cosmetically pleasing to the naked eye.  Might I suggest that you consider saving face by telling everyone that we decided to make cobblers in order to save time.” 

“Oh, yeah.  That’ll go down real well with everyone.  Everyone so looks forward to the traditional pies every year.  Surely, you can understand that given your love of traditions.” 

“Well, considering the situation, I think it’s high time you started telling your family that you’ve decided to implement some new ones, such as changing up the puddings.  Will your Granddad be in his flat still?” 

“I don’t know.  Why?” 

“Let’s see if we can hide out in his flat for a bit whilst we sort this out.” 

“I’m sure Grandpa won’t mind.  Knowing him, he’ll even pitch in and do whatever he can to help us out.” 

“We need to put our heads together and come up with a way to recoup our losses whilst salvaging whatever we can out of this pitiful mess.” 

“As long as we don’t take too long to do it.” 

Benedict waved his hand dismissively. “Your family is used to us being late as is, so no one will be the wiser.”

_They're still coming to grips with you always being late.  They know you're the one responsible for my newly-acquired tardiness._

“For once I’m glad that you’re always late. Now, let me get that big serving spoon out of the hamper so we can try and put the pies back together.” 

 

**************************************************

  

“Is it time to get Pierre, Grandpa?” shouted an exuberant Charlie Saint James as he burst into Colin’s living room.  “Daddy says it’s time for us to get movin’!” 

Charlie was Kenny and Scarlett’s six year-old son, whom Colin had invited to come along to pick up Pierre from the breeder’s. 

“Oh, he did, did he?” Colin chuckled as he shrugged into his winter coat. “Well, yes, it is just about that time, Charlie!”  He surveyed his great grandson with amusement.  “Did your mum finally run out of things to wrap you up warm in?” 

Charlie grimaced.  “I can’t walk so good, and I’m really, really hot, Grandpa.  Mommy made me wear all this stuff so I don’t catch a cold.” 

“Bloody hell!  You’re going to steam like a Christmas pudding in all those rubbish clothes!  I think we can manage without some of this,” Colin laughed as he unwound one of the two scarfs from around the small boy’s neck.  “I know I told her you needed to wrap up warm, but this takes the cake.  Better yes?” 

“No.  My hands are sweating,” complained Charlie holding up his gloved hands.  “There are more under these, Grandpa; and they itch!” 

_Scarlett loves wool, bless her.  The poor little sod gets itchy whenever she puts him in it._   Colin pulled off the heavy insulated mittens to find Charlie was wearing two pairs of woolen ones underneath.  “For Fannie’s sake!  I think one pair is sufficient.  Your Mum must have thought we were going to the South Pole rather than Gramercy Park South!” 

Charlie giggled.  “Who’s Fannie, Grandpa?  Is she one of your friends at the club?” 

“Fannie’s a bird I used to date when I was much younger.” 

“You can’t date birds, Grandpa!” Chortled Charlie as Colin helped him back into his mittens.  

“That’s what we used to call pretty young girls back in England when I was a strapping young lad.” 

“Then Wanda called her friend Dolly dumb.  That wasn’t very nice, was it, Grandpa?” 

“No, that wasn’t,” said Colin slowly.  “What did she say exactly?” 

“Wanda said her friend on the plane was a dumb dolly bird because she was hogging the loo to put on her makeup when Wanda had to use it.  I heard her tell Nona.” 

“Wanda wasn’t talking about a friend of hers named Dolly.  She just called the lady that because she was inconsiderate.” 

“But why do you call them birds?” 

“Um…well…I’m not entirely sure.  We just always used to say that is all.” 

“It’s silly to call girls birds, Grandpa.” 

“Say, aren’t you still feeling a bit hot, Charlie?” 

“Yeah, Grandpa. Do I _have_ to wear this vest?” 

Colin removed Charlie’s coat and saw that the child was wearing a heavy jumper with a down waistcoat over it.  “For fuck’s sake!” 

“Is Fuck another bird you used to date, Grandpa?” 

“NO!” bellowed Colin, clearly mortified at his slip of the tongue.  “That wasn’t a very nice word for me to use, so please don’t go around repeating it.” 

“Ben says it to Aunt Donna all the time.  Daddy said Ben has a potty mouth and not to repeat anything he says.” 

“Well, I’ll make sure to have a little talk with Benedict about minding what he says,” said Colin sternly, as he removed the waistcoat. “But in the interim, I think it's a brilliant idea to mind what your Pa tells you. Now, I think the jumper will suffice.  There… how’s that?” 

“Better! Thanks, Grandpa!” exclaimed Charlie, hugging Colin tightly. 

Colin buttoned his own coat and began to pull on his gloves.  “Can you please collect Pierre’s leash from the upstairs kitchen for me?” 

“Sure!  Look how fast I can run now, Grandpa!”  Charlie dashed out of the room. 

“Mind the running about in the house, Charles!” yelled Colin. “Your Gran and Mum won’t take kindly to that!” 

_And blame me.  I always wind up taking the blame because I'm too lenient with the boy, so they say.  Yes, I do enjoy indulging my gran kids from time-to-time, but they're certainly not spoilt._

There came an urgent knock on the door leading to the outside of the flat.  

_Hmmm…now who could that be?  I’m not expecting anyone. Perhaps Elsie has come around for a cuppa?  I could swear she was spending the day with her daughter out on Long Island. Maybe it’s one of the chaps from the club with nothing to do today._

Colin looked through the peep hole to see Donna and Benedict standing out in the cold.  Benedict was carrying a wicker picnic hamper, and Donna was looking about nervously as if she didn’t want them to be seen. 

“Good Morning you two! Come in!” exclaimed Colin, as he opened the door and held it wide open so the young couple could pass through.  “Feel free to put that bloody thing down where ever you fancy, Ben.  It looks heavy.” 

“It is a bit.  Hello Colin,” said Benedict.  “Could I set this down in the kitchen?” 

“Of course.  Donna will show you the way,” replied Colin. 

“Happy Thanksgiving, Grandpa!” said Donna hugging the older man tightly. 

“And to you as well, Granddaughter!  Let’s get this thing into the kitchen and you two settled,” Colin said shutting the door to the flat.  “Then you can tell me what all this is about.” 

“We missed you at the parade, Grandpa,” said Donna, leading the way to the decent-sized kitchen.  “It wasn’t the same without you.” 

“I wish I could have been there; but my hip was acting up, so I decided to skip it and watch it on the telly instead.  Of my adopted American holidays, Thanksgiving will always be my favourite,” he said as an aside to Benedict. 

“I can see why,” said Benedict.  “The sentiment behind it is lovely.” 

“Did you enjoy the parade yes?” 

Benedict placed the hamper on the counter and flexed his hands before unzipping his down-filled jacket and removing his scarf and gloves. 

“Erm...yeah.  I did actually.  It was a fun experience.”  _But it wasn’t worth having to get up at five in the fucking morning for._

“Do you think anyone saw us come in here?” Donna asked the two men worriedly. 

“There was no one looking out any of the windows,” replied Benedict testily.  “I’ve already told you that _twice_ now.” 

_Hmmm…my granddaughter appears jittery, and Ben looks like he’s had it with her.  He actually looks pale and shaky…as if he’d been through an ordeal of some kind._

“So, is this a clandestine mission, rather than just you two popping in for a cuppa before dinner?” 

There came the sound of someone slamming a door and descending the stairs from Donna’s parents’ apartment at a fast clip.  Benedict and Donna exchanged horrified glances. 

“Not to worry, it’s only Charlie,” said Colin as the small boy ran into the room and propelled himself straight into Donna’s arms.  

“It’s almost time for turkey, Aunt Donna!  Can I have both drumsticks this year?  Last year Popi cut them up into little pieces!” 

“I’ll do what I can to make sure you get at least one whole one,” promised Donna with a smile.  “My dad gets carried away with the electric carving knife,” she explained to Benedict.  

“Well, I hate to be a rubbish host; but Charlie and I were just about to go collect Pierre from the breeder’s.  Do either of you fancy coming along?  It’s no more than a ten minute walk.” 

“I’d love to, Grandpa, but we can’t.  There was a mishap with the desserts, and I came to ask if Benedict and I could use your kitchen to do some damage control before we bring them upstairs.” 

“Of course,” replied Colin, his curiosity peaked.  “Can we have a look?” 

“I warn you:  it’s not a pretty sight,” sighed Donna as she opened the top of the hamper while Benedict busied himself by placing their coats and gloves on one of the chairs.  Colin and Charlie both peered inside at the contents of the hamper. 

“Bloody hell!” gasped Colin raising both eyebrows at Donna.  “Now, that’s a right mess if I ever saw one!” 

“Ewwww…that looks gross!” exclaimed Charlie, wrinkling his nose in disgust as he dropped the leash on the floor. 

“Um…um…well…they’re not quite done yet,” stammered Donna. “I have to add the finishing touches to make them look pretty.” 

“That’s going to take you a long time, Aunt Donna.  They’re not pretty at all – are they Grandpa?” 

“I believe the term they use nowadays is rustic, Charlie,” replied Colin.  “They’re not meant to look beautiful, they just have to taste good.” 

_Excellent save, Grandpa,_ thought Donna. _I always love how quick you can think on your feet._

_The old boy certainly is clever,_ thought Benedict.  _And he’s just given me some more ideas.  
_

Charlie didn’t appear convinced by his Great-grandfather’s words. He pointed to the mincemeat pie and grimaced. “That one looks like somebody threw up. What is it?” 

“Charlie!  Mind your manners!” said Colin sharply.  “It’s mincemeat.  How do you know you don’t fancy it? You haven’t even tasted it yet.” 

Charlie scrunched up his nose in distaste. “I don’t want to eat that stuff!  Do I have to?” 

“No, you don’t,” replied Benedict.  “However, you’ll be missing out on quite a treat.  These are Americanized versions of some very popular British desserts that I grew up eating.” 

Charlie frowned at him. “Like what?” 

“Oh…like pumpkin trifle, apple crumble, mincemeat cobbler, chocolate cream fool and lemon meringue mess to name just a few of our more…inventive creations.” 

“Very funny!” snapped Donna. 

“Would it be alright if we borrowed your kitchen to sort this out?” Benedict inquired, making eyes at Colin. 

“Of course.  You two have the run of my kitchen.  Take whatever you need from the pantry and fridge.  Shall we set off, Charlie?” 

Charlie picked up the leash and dashed out of the kitchen.  “Bye Aunt Donna!  Bye Ben!” 

“If you find yourselves needing anything, just text me.  We'll be passing a convenience store that's always open on holidays for emergencies such as this. Good luck, Love,” said Colin, kissing Donna on both cheeks.  “In spite of what young Charlie’s opinion is, it all smells delectable! I hope you can save some of it and manage to fool the others.” 

“So do we, Grandpa,” agreed Donna sadly.  

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” said Benedict, kissing Donna on top of her head.  “We’ll see you upstairs then.” 

As soon as Colin had left the kitchen, Benedict clapped his hands together, startling Donna. “So shall we see what treasure trove your granddad has in here?” 

“I don’t hold much hope since he eats upstairs with Mom and Dad most days.” 

“Stop being such a damn pessimist, Woman!  Let’s get on with it!”  

Benedict began to open the cupboards to inspect the contents of Colin’s pantry, while Donna went to the refrigerator to see what she could make use of in there. 

“Hmmm…I just found some crisps.” 

“The only thing that comes to mind is chocolate-dipped ones,” said Donna. “Those would only be good for a garnish.  Keep looking.” 

“Okay…I found something we can definitely use:  Oatmeal raisin biscuits.  We can crush them up with our hands and mix it in with the salvaged crumb topping to scatter over the apple pie filling. Voila:  instant apple crumble!”  

“I know he’s got to have casserole dishes we can spoon the filling into.  Wait! Oh, I hit the jackpot!  I just found a quart of unopened heavy cream.  I can whip some up to top the pumpkin trifle, but we’re going to need cake to put into a trifle and a liqueur.” 

“And here are some ginger nuts that I can soak in some sherry, and we can layer them with the pumpkin and cream.” 

“How do you know Grandpa has sherry?” 

Benedict fixed her with a look.  “He’s an Englishman,” he snorted.  “Of course he’ll have sherry on hand.” 

“I know my Grandma had a trifle bowl.  It should be in the china cabinet in the corner of the living room with her other fancy serving pieces.” 

“I just found a jar of unopened raspberry jam.  We can surely use that for something.” 

“We can make an Eton Mess out of the lemon meringue pie and use the raspberry jam.  We can add small dollops .  What do you think, Ben?” 

“Brilliant.  The majority won’t realize an Eton Mess traditionally has bananas or strawberries.  Colin and your dad will be the only ones who’ll know that.” 

“We’re not aiming for authenticity here.  We’re trying to convince them that these desserts are cutting edge, Ben Honey.” 

“And rustic,” added Benedict with a wink. “Let’s not forget the rustic part.  That will be half the charm.” 

“Thank you for helping me.  I love how inspired you are.” 

“You should see me at Sainsbury’s food bar.  Some of my best puddings come from there,” laughed Benedict. 

“Are you referring to your signature dessert – the Black Forest Trifle?” 

“I most certainly am.  When did you catch on?” 

“Oh, one day when I was shopping for something for our dinner in Sainsbury’s and came across the food bar.  Don’t worry:  You still retain your A in creativity and taste.  I still think it’s delicious and look forward to whenever you decide to make it.” 

Benedict blushed at the compliment.  “Thank you.  That’s high praise coming from a food critic.” 

“I’ll even go as far as to proclaim it yummy.” 

“Well, now.  There is no higher praise than yummy.  I’m totes over the moon.” 

“Good news!  I can definitely salvage the chocolate cream pie.  I just have to apply some fresh whipped cream and chocolate curls over the top.  I know Grandpa must have a candy bar stashed away.  He's a chocoholic like me!” 

Benedict held up two Hershey chocolate bars.  “Yes, he does! With and without almonds.  Which do you fancy using?” 

“I’ll take the one without please.  It’s too thin to make curls out of, but I can grate it.” 

Donna stood with her hands on her hips as she pondered the mincemeat pie. “Now…what do with this mincemeat mess?  Charlie's right about it looking like vomit.  What can we make of it? We’ve already got the new and improved version of the Eton Mess.  Can we also serve them a mincemeat mess?” 

“Brilliant!” Benedict triumphantly pulled a packet out of the cupboard and waved it at her.  “Bird’s custard mix, which has saved many English cooks from the labourious task of making custard from scratch.  Is there milk?” 

“Yep.  Unfortunately, it’s low fat milk.” 

“It’ll do for our purposes.  We’ll scoop the mincemeat and crust into ramekins – does Colin have ramekins?” 

Donna opened several cabinets.  “Negative.” 

“Alright then, we’ll forget about a mincemeat cobbler,” said Benedict, tugging at his earlobe.  “Erm…let me think this through.  Is there any ice cream in the freezer?” 

Donna opened the freezer.  “Yep.  A quart of vanilla and a quart of rum raisin.” 

“That’s fucking perfect for what I have in mind!” Benedict took a saucepan off the pot rack and set it on the stove.  “What about glasses that could be used for pudding or ice cream?” 

“Oh, here are some parfait glasses in the back of this cabinet.  There are eight of them.” 

“Splendid.  We’ll make mincemeat pie sundaes.  Not everyone will want one, I’m sure.” 

“Wow!  You are a very creative cook in a crisis, Mr. Cumberbatch.” 

Benedict bowed to her.  “Thank you, kindly.” 

“So, we won’t need the custard sauce after all.” 

“Yes, we do.  We’re going to ladle the cooled custard sauce over the sundaes with some of these almonds I found in the pantry, if you’d be kind enough to toast them up a bit and chop them. Be sure to whip all the cream as we’ll need it for the sundaes as well as your pie.  We can use the rum raisin for the adults and vanilla for the smalls.” 

Donna brought the milk over to Benedict and hugged him tightly.  “Whatever would I do without you, Ben Honey?  You saved my ass.” 

“Let’s hope you never have to find out,” laughed Benedict.  He paused to kiss her tenderly. “However, it might not be a terrible idea for you to scope out local groceries that have food bars just in case the need arises again.” 

 

 *************************************************

  

Dr. Steven Cipriano had settled in a comfortable arm chair in his in-laws’ study with a glass mug full of hot spiced apple cider.  His plan was to watch as much of the Green bay Packers vs the Detroit Lions game prior to dinner.  Steven stirred his drink with the cinnamon swizzle stick and took a sip while contemplating which of the mini quiches to sample from the tray that sat on the ottoman that often doubled as a coffee table.  

“I was wondering where you had disappeared to,” said Carly as she plopped down on the arm of the chair, seemingly from out of nowhere. 

“You’re getting much better at stealth, Babe. I didn’t even hear you come in.” 

“That was the idea.  Glad to hear that I’m doing so well.” 

“I was going to balance my apple cider where your beautiful butt is.” 

“Not in this study you won’t – unless you’re seeking the wrath of Toni,” Carly scoffed.  “See the nice coasters she carefully laid out on the ottoman.  You need to use one of those and put you cider on the side table.” 

“Wow, you got all that from just looking at a coaster?” 

“Nope.  That comes from years of experience of being reprimanded by Mom for doing what you were going to do.” 

“I thought you were helping with the final dinner preparations.” 

“I thought you were helping with the final dinner preparations.” 

“Um…I was until your Nona chased me out.  She said I was getting in the way, so I came in here to watch the Detroit Lions lose once again.”  

“Well, hate to ruin your plans, Doctor; but I’ve been conscripted to come find you.  Mom decided that she can use your help.” 

“I thought your Nona out ranks your mother.” 

“She does, but Mom needs an experienced turkey carver.” 

“I’m not.” 

“You perform surgery.  That’s close enough.” 

“Your dad always carves the turkey.” 

“Not this year.  He mutilates it and cuts up the frigging drumsticks, which the kids hate!  Mom thinks you’ll do a better job.  As a matter of fact, she said she doesn’t know why it hasn’t occurred to her before to ask you to take over carving duties.” 

“Because your dad will pout?” snickered Steve. 

“No way!  I think Dad will be secretly thrilled to be relieved of being the carver.” 

Steve got to his feet and yawned.  “Doesn’t the turkey have to rest so the juices won’t flow when I cut into it?” 

“It’s rested.  We’re getting ready to put the food on the table.” 

“I was meaning to ask you if you’ve heard from either Donna or Ben.” 

“No.  That’s another reason why I came in here, besides to fetch you for Mom.  They left before us, so they should have been here by now.  I hope nothing happened to them.” 

“I’ve heard nothing.” 

“Donna’s not answering her cell.  It’s going straight to voicemail as is Ben’s.  Something’s not right.” 

“Maybe Donna took him for a ride on a whim.  You know – a quick drive up the FDR Drive and over the GW Bridge to Jersey and down River Road to the Lincoln Tunnel back into Manhattan.” 

Carly barked out a laugh.  “First of all, that is not a quick drive by any means.  That would take at least an hour without traffic.  Secondly, my sister does nothing on a whim.  She’s so freaking neurotic even her bowel movements are planned!” 

Steve’s cellphone began to ring.  “I bet that’s my brother, Ronnie.  He’s the only one in my family I haven’t spoken with today.”  He pulled the phone out of his jeans pocket and looked at the caller ID.  “Hmmm…I think we’ve found them.  My caller ID shows that Ben Cumberbatch is calling.”

“Answer it!” urged Carly, poking him. “Before it goes to voicemail!” 

“Hey Ben?  Where in the hell are you two?” 

_“We’re downstairs in Colin’s flat.  Is Carly there?”_

“Yeah.  She’s right here.  Why?” 

_“Can you ask her to please join us as quick as she can?  We’re in the kitchen.”  
_

“Sure.  What are you guys up to?” 

_“We’ll explain as soon as Carly gets down here.”_

“Do you need me?” 

_“No.  Stay where you are.  We’ll all be right up in a few minutes.  Just don’t tell anyone we’re down here.”_

“Okay.” 

_“Steve?”_

“Yeah?” 

_“Erm…there’s one other thing.  We need a favor from you.”_

“Name it.” 

_“Just try not to act surprised when you see the desserts.”  
_

“Why is that?” 

_“Because they will look a whole hell of a lot different from the ones we made last night.”  
_

“I’ll do my best.” 

Carly frowned at her husband.  “What was all that about?” 

“They’re downstairs in Colin’s apartment in the kitchen.  Donna wants you to come down stat apparently.  It has to do with the desserts.” 

“I can’t tell you how afraid I am to go down there.  Something’s radically wrong.” 

“I think that’s obvious.  Ben asked me not to act surprised when I see the desserts.” 

“Fuck!  I wonder what Donna did this time.  Why don’t you go back in the kitchen and just say I had to use the bathroom.” 

“Will do,” said Steve, drinking some of his cider and heading to the kitchen. 

 

****************************************************  


“Carly will be right down,” said Benedict as he tucked his mobile back inside his jeans pocket.  “And Steve promises not to act surprised.” 

“They don’t look bad at all,” declared Donna surveying their handiwork with satisfaction. "What do you think?" 

“You wouldn’t know that these desserts had once begun life as pies.” 

“Donna?” came Carly’s voice from the living room. 

“In here!”  Donna replied.  She looked at Benedict, who leaned back against the counter.  He offered her a smile of encouragement.  

“What on earth happened?” blurted out Carly as she swept into the kitchen with an anxious look on her face.  She came to a halt as she contemplated the scene before her on the kitchen table.  The chocolate cream pie was surrounded by a variety of desserts she had not seen prior to that very moment.  “Where are all the pies we baked?  Where did all these desserts come from?” 

“These _are_ the desserts we baked,” said Donna meekly.  “They’re just in a slightly different form now.” 

Carly turned her gaze on Benedict as she came closer in order to take a better look.  “There were whole pies that we spent hours baking yesterday afternoon and last night, and now she’s telling me that they somehow magically got transformed into trifles, cobblers, crisps and God only knows what else?” 

“There’s also going to be a mincemeat sundae, but we didn’t want to waste what precious ice cream we had making up a sample for you to see,” added Benedict.  “Do you know if your mum has any ice cream in her freezer that we could use should we run short?” 

Carly shook her head in disbelief.  “I’m sure she does, but neither of you has given me an explanation as to what’s going on. The last I saw you two, Benedict was carrying the picnic hamper with the pies intact down to the garage to put into your trunk. I see the hamper, so I know they made it.  I'm getting this feeling that they did not arrive safely." 

"Your feeling is spot on," confirmed Benedict.  "There was a mishap...for lack of a better word." 

"What sort of mishap?" persisted Carly with a raised eyebrow. 

“The problem is that they didn’t exactly make it in one piece – except for the chocolate cream pie.  That one remained pretty much intact, as you can see,” said Donna, indicating the pie that sat in the center of the kitchen table. "I just had to redo the whipped cream and cover the top with grated chocolate. Unfortunately, the others didn't fair as well." 

“Donna thought it best if we unloaded the pies from the hamper and place them in the boot of her car using the rubbish cargo net to keep them in place for the duration of the trip here.” 

“Jesus Christ, Donna!  What a reckless thing to do!” 

“I didn’t want them to get crushed in the hamper…” 

“They would have been far safer in the hamper!” 

Donna looked down at her shows.  “Yes, I realize that now.” 

“Do you know how slowly you would have had to have driven to keep them from moving?  You’re a careful driver, but…” 

Benedict blinked in surprise.  “I don’t know who you were a passenger with, but it certainly wasn’t her!” he exclaimed.  “I’ve never had such an...invigorating ride in my life.” 

Carly rolled her eyes.  “We’re you showing Ben how your Porsche goes from zero to sixty in a minute?” 

Donna’s face reddened.  “It’s actually less than a minute.” 

“She likened the experience to a ride at Disney World,” continued Benedict. 

“Test Track!  Donna, what in the hell were you thinking?” 

“I wanted to impress Benedict with my driving skills and my fancy car.” 

“Sounds like your plan backfired, pardon the pun,” observed Carly.  “And our desserts were the unfortunate casualties.” 

“Well, to be honest, I _was_ impressed as fuck with the car,” quipped Benedict.  “Her driving skills, however, not so much.  I was utterly terrified!” 

Donna playfully smacked his arm.  "Hey!  You're exaggerating, Benedict!  My driving wasn't that bad." 

Benedict only raised an eyebrow at her.  

"Benedict?" 

He continued to stare at her with those penetrating ice blue eyes. 

"I'd say his silence speaks volumes," snickered Carly. 

"No one asked you, Carla.  Where's your loyalty, Benedict?" 

"I'm entitled to my opinion, Love. Sorry to have to disagree with you, but that wasn't a very confidence-inspiring ride." 

Carly sighed.  "I really can't believe this!"  

“Take a closer look at our damage control,” prodded Donna.  “I dare anyone to figure out that these were once pies.” 

"Please, Carly. I think you'll have to agree that Donna and I did a decent job at camouflaging."  

Carly approached the table and carefully inspected each dessert.  “I had to admit that they do look like this is what they’re intended to be.” 

“Grandpa has rum raisin and vanilla ice cream in the freezer that we’re going to make the mincemeat sundaes with.  Benedict made a custard sauce from a packet Grandpa had stashed in his pantry.  It’s a good thing he had a quart of heavy cream.  I’ve been whipping it for the past half hour.” 

Carly sighed.  “You done good, sister.” 

“Not me. Benedict.  He gets all the credit.  These were all his ideas that saved the day,” said Donna with pride in her voice.  “I just helped him with the plating.” 

“It was a true collaboration," further clarified Benedict.  "Donna had some brilliant ideas as well and did the presentations.  I don't excel with details like she does.” 

“I think you both did a great job and deserve a pat on the back for salvaging our desserts."  

Benedict pulled Donna into his arms for a quick embrace and kiss.  “See, I told you we could sort it." 

"Thanks to you mostly!" exclaimed Donna, returning the kiss. "Together we make an awesome team, Mr. Cumberbatch." 

"You'll get no argument from me, Darling." 

"Ben, why don’t you go upstairs and spend some time with your folks?” suggested Carly. “They were still hanging out in the guest room, enjoying the peace and quiet.  Steve can help us get the desserts upstairs.” 

"Yeah, that’s a brilliant suggestion, as I’ve scarcely spent any time with them since they arrived.  If you ladies will excuse me then, I think I’ll do just that,” said Benedict Cumberbatch with a huge smile.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Allow me to be the first to state that the bit with the desserts in the car is not at all realistic. I just wanted to have some fun with it. 
> 
> 2\. IDP = International Driving Permit.
> 
> 3\. Part of Donna's wild ride was inspired by the many episodes of the British Comedy "Keeping Up Appearances" where Hyacinth Bucket is forever meddling in her husband, Richard's driving. 
> 
> 4\. Timothy Carlton played car salesman, Mr. Hunt in Season 5 of "Keeping Up Appearances" in an episode entitled "The Rolls Royce".
> 
> 5\. Wanda Ventham played Margaret Balshaw in Season 3, Episode 7 of "Hetty Wainthropp Investigates" called "A Minor Operation".
> 
> 6\. I was only a passenger in a cab three times while visiting London, so I can't speak for how the majority of the drivers are in the city. The cabbies drove just fine, and I didn't notice anything wild around us. However, I can speak for NYC as we drive in quite a bit, and it's crazy and stressful. I'd much rather take the train than drive in! LOL
> 
> 7\. In American there are three professional NFL football games broadcast every year on Thanksgiving. In 2009 when this story begins, it was the Green Bay Packers vs the Detroit Lions, the Dallas Cowboys vs the Oakland Raiders and the Denver Broncos vs the New York Giants (which is the team Donna's family roots for).
> 
> 8\. This was my first time writing dialog for a six-year old, which wasn't easy.
> 
> 9\. Test Track is my favorite ride in Epcot. It's supposed to simulate taking a six-passenger sports car through a variety of tests and experiences along an automobile testing ground (for example you drive on a variety of bumpy surfaces, go through braking tests to demonstrate the ABS) and ends with a high speed spin outside around the building its housed in at approx 65 MPH after going through a crash barrier. Lots of fun!
> 
> 10\. From my personal experience, there are bakeries in New York City that open in the morning on Thanksgiving so people can pick up their pies and holiday treats. It is also a HUGE day for people to eat out in restaurants.


	140. Chapter 140

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of Thanksgiving Day with the Cumberbatch and Saint James families. The Cumberbatches spend some quality time together and do some eavesdropping while Donna is put on the spot about the wedding. 
> 
> Note: I’ll be using ******* for things happening at the same time.

 

Benedict Cumberbatch was sat on the window seat in the Saint James’ guest bedroom with his leg tucked underneath him, gazing down at the back garden. 

“They have one of the loveliest back gardens I’ve ever seen,” he observed.  “I understand Colin and his late wife did the landscaping themselves.” 

“Colin is very handy,” confirmed Wanda.  “Neil and Toni were showing us all the things he’s done in the house as well as in the garden.  You and he have a lot in common in that regard.” 

“It’s sheer genius how those retractable French doors in the kitchen open onto the patio,” marveled Timothy. 

“It’s like bringing the outdoors right into the kitchen,” added Wanda.  “Neil showed us that once the doors have all been opened, you don’t even notice them. I can imagine myself cooking dinner in that kitchen on a warm summer evening.”  

“Can you imagine how lovely it must be in the spring and summer being sat out there with an iced coffee?” mused Timothy.  “The plantings are such that you don’t even realize you’re in the midst of New York City.” 

“That’s only because this happens to be an exceptionally quiet area, and they’ve excellent sound-proofing in here,” retorted Wanda.  “We’ve stayed in places where you could hear all the goings on in the street.” 

“I don’t mind the sounds of the city, except when the fucking rubbish collectors come down the street with their lorries at the crack of dawn,” complained Benedict, stifling a yawn.  "Or when I'm trying to sleep at home with the windows open and those fucking foxes start fucking - literally!" 

“Your colour’s come back,” observed Timothy.  “Feeling better yes?” 

Benedict nodded and rubbed the back of his neck.  “Yeah.  Yeah.  I’m completely at ease now.”  _I was so fucking stressed between the car ride and the dessert emergency surgery, I must have been white as a sheet for them to mention it._

“You were so pale when you first came in, I was worried you had taken ill. I thought you said Donna was a good driver,” said Wanda with a raised eyebrow.  “It certainly doesn’t sound like it to me!” 

“Well, she actually is, Mum.  I’ve been trying to teach her how to drive with a manual transmission, and she’s been ever-so-cautious whenever she’s been at the wheel.”  _Why do I feel obligated to defend Donna's driving?_   _Am I being too hard on her?  No...Absolutely not.  It was like being in the car with a different person, for fucks sake!_

“That was in London,” mused Timothy.  “Donna’s used to driving here.  I’m sure she’s more confident on familiar turf.” 

“I don’t know if I’d call it confident exactly. Let’s just say I wasn’t prepared for this morning,” explained Benedict as he thought back to the past sixty minutes.  

_I’d call it reckless at times.  I need to sit her down so we can address this. One day she’ll be driving our children around, and I want to be able to relax with the knowledge that they’re safe with her. That reminds me that I should probably give up riding my motor bike when I become a dad.  I love that Donna comes along for a ride now and then; but I have a gut feeling she's going to push the issue once she becomes pregnant. Part of me is going to miss riding terribly; but it can be dangerous.  
_

Benedict removed a lip balm from his jeans pocket and swept it over his cupids bow lips.  “Erm, Mum…Dad…I want you both to promise me that if you should have the opportunity to be a passenger with Donna during this trip that you’ll both make it a point to do up your seat belts.” 

Timothy and Wanda exchanged worrisome glances and nodded solemnly in agreement. 

“We both hereby swear,” said Timothy with a slight smile.  “If there's one thing your mother and I have always done, it’s to do up our seat belts whenever we get inside a car.” 

“Regardless of who’s behind the wheel,” added Wanda.  “We’ll be fine, Ben.  I doubt we’ll have any reason to be a passenger in Donna’s posh sports car whilst we’re here.” 

“Good.  Public transport is definitely my preference for you two – with the exception of the cabs.  That’s akin to driving with Donna.” 

“Your mother and I always do up our seat belts when in cabs,” Timothy assured him.  “The father drove perfectly fine, isn’t that so, Pet?”  he asked Wanda. 

Wanda thought for a moment and nodded in agreement.  “Neil's a fine driver.  Maybe Donna takes after Toni.  I could see her being a bit of a speed demon.” 

“Let’s hope neither of you get to find out,” muttered Benedict, capping his lip balm and returning it to his pocket.  "So have they been minding their mouths around you?" he inquired nonchalantly. 

"Surprisingly, yes," replied Wanda.  "Both Neil and Toni have been on their very best behaviour." 

"To be fair, we haven't been in their company all that much for there to be friction, which is a blessing," added Timothy.  "They go to work, and we go out and about our business." 

"Well, that's good to hear," said Benedict, the relief in his voice obvious.  "I was concerned with you being in such close quarters with them." 

"Believe me, Ben.  If there is an argument, it won't be us who start it," Wanda said defiantly.  

"Your mother and I know how to properly conduct ourselves, Benedict," chimed in Timothy. 

_Shit.  I detect a trace of irritation in Dad's voice,_ thought Benedict.  _I need to just shut up and stop fretting over nothing.  They'll tell me if something transpires._

"Okay. Sorry.  Forget I said anything." 

“Can I get you a coffee, Ben, or tea?” inquired Wanda.  “As you can see, we’ve got all the fixings up here – even biscuits should you fancy some. Toni baked them herself.  They’re shaped like turkeys and pumpkins and very elaborately decorated.  It must have taken her an age to do!” 

“They’re also quite tasty,” added Timothy.  “We’ve helped ourselves to refills every night. I can see us doubling our walks once we get home to lose all the weight we’re bound to gain during this celebratory holiday.” 

Benedict shook his head.  “I’m fine. Donna brought along a thermos of hot tea and bagels to eat whilst we watched the parade. You were smart to stay behind.  Your back wouldn’t have been able to take all that standing, Dad. Not to mention having to locate a restroom when most places are closed wasn’t an easy feat.  I wound up using one at a Starbucks.  You should have seen the queue!  It was out the bloody door!”

“Which is exactly why we chose to stay here where it’s nice and warm and loos are plentiful,” chuckled Timothy.  “I had no intention of standing outside in the bloody cold for hours to watch something I can see better on the telly.” 

“I volunteered to baste the turkey, so Toni could go,” said Wanda.  “It seems she’s the one who always volunteers to stay behind, and she was grateful for the opportunity.  I didn’t see you on the telly by the way.” 

“That’s because we went uptown close to where the parade begins,” explained Benedict.  “I can’t believe I had to get up so fucking early so we could get a prime viewing spot on the pavement right alongside the kerb!” 

“These people love their parades and fireworks, bless them,” laughed Timothy.  “I’ve never seen such unbridled enthusiasm in all my life.” 

“Neither have I,” agreed Benedict.  “And I’m signing up for a lifetime of it. I suppose there are worse things yes?  I think I wouldn’t be so stropy if I could have gotten sufficient sleep.”  He stifled another yawn. 

“Can you believe Toni was up laying the bloody table at half-four?” blurted out Wanda.  “I went downstairs to put some laundry in the washer while we were sleeping and found her, so I offered to help.” 

“I saw the table when we came in,” said Benedict.  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen such an elaborate table setting in my life.  It’s like something straight out of a magazine for fucks sake.” 

“Wait until you see the menu,” declared Wanda.  “This is going to be one epic feast!  I had a light breakfast so I’d have an appetite for all the treats Toni has in store for us.” 

“You always manage to have quite the heroic appetite, Pet,” quipped Timothy.  “I’m not worried one bit that you’ll do yourself proud at the Feast of Fools.” 

“Feast of Fools?” sputtered Benedict. 

“Yes, yesterday Donna’s nephew, Charlie, asked if I would watch _The Hunchback of Notre Dame_ with him; and it stuck with me I’m afraid,” replied Timothy with an impish smile.  “Rather appropriate, too – given the circumstances – wouldn’t you say?” 

“Yes, Dad, I would," snickered Benedict.  "By the way, that’s rather mature content for a six year old yes?”

“It was the Disney movie version,” clarified Wanda.  

“That was still pretty dark for Disney,” said Benedict, running his hand through his fluffy hair in a futile effort to tame it.  “As for referring to today’s dinner as the Feast of Fools: I think I’m going to have to take offense at that one, Dad!” 

“Present company excluded, of course,” said Timothy demurely, which trying to hide a smile. 

“Thank you,” said Benedict through a yawn.  “Excuse me.  Going to bed late and having to rise early sans my full eight hours doesn’t agree with me. Donna and Carly were up late baking the puddings, and they enlisted Steve and me to assist.” _Which Donna has since destroyed with her aggressive New York City-style driving._

“Such as?” inquired Wanda. 

“Oh, we made quite a variety of interesting puddings.” 

“That’s descriptive as hell, Benedict!” snapped Wanda. 

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck. “Erm…well it’s quite an imaginative variety…things you don’t see on your typical American Thanksgiving table, I'm certain.” 

“Neither of us has seen a typical American Thanksgiving table,” retorted Wanda. “And today will be no exception from what I’ve seen them cooking.” 

“Okay, for one there’s going to be a mincemeat…” 

“Blimey!  They made a mincemeat pie!” chimed in Timothy.  “I’ll be damned.” 

“I can assure you it won’t be anything like _my_ mincemeat pie,” scoffed Wanda.  “Knowing how health conscious they are, I bet there’s no beef suet in it.” 

“Not even close,” snorted Benedict. _That’s one of the pies that turned upside down during Donna’s demonstration of race car driving, so now we’re turning it into an impromptu sundae._ “It was getting late by the time Donna got to the mincemeat, so she decided to use it as a sundae topping instead.” 

“Mincemeat sundaes,” repeated Wanda slowly, as she side-eyed her husband.  “How… unique.” 

“Yes, it’s very unique,” agreed Benedict with a smirk. “They put brandied cherries, apples, sultanas and figs in theirs.  As to how it tastes, I couldn’t tell you.  Donna wound up giving a few of the puddings a creative twist.” 

Wanda raised her eyebrows inquiringly at him. 

“However, you won’t be able to pry it out of me; because I’ve taken a vow of silence on the matter.” 

“Now, is hardly the time to be taking vows of silence, Benedict!” scolded Wanda. 

“It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve spilt the beans,” Timothy reminded him.  “It’s not like this is an earth-shattering secret.  We’re just chatting about bloody puddings.” 

“Well, I’m endeavouring to improve my rubbish track record when it comes to keeping secrets – secret.” 

“Hells bells!” exclaimed Wanda, throwing up her hands in mock defeat.  “I’ll wait and find out after dinner.  I do hope there’s pumpkin pie though. I've grown quite fond of it.” 

Benedict shook his head.  “Terribly sorry to disappoint you, but there’ll be no pumpkin pie.” 

“What? No pumpkin pie?” asked Timothy in disbelief.  “I thought that was the traditional Thanksgiving pudding here in the States. I’ve never seen so many things made with pumpkin since we arrived.” 

“Not to worry, Dad. There’s also a rather familiar yet unique pumpkin dessert, but I’d rather not have the surprise spoilt. Since I’ve been here I’ve had pumpkin layer cake, pancakes, biscuits, donuts, coffee, tea - which was God-awful by the way -fudge, ice cream, tea cake, cheesecake and the piece de resistance – a pumpkin martini.” 

“Bloody hell!  How was the martini?” asked Timothy. 

“Actually, quite tasty, as I recall having three.  Hahaha!  Carly knows how to make a proper drink. You’d definitely approve of her bar-tending capabilities, Dad.” 

Wanda sat on the other end of the window seat, hugging one of the decorative pillows to herself.  “I meant to ask you, Ben, have Donna’s parents given you an engagement gift?” 

Benedict caught his father glaring daggers at her question.  

_Well, that didn’t take long, Mum. Nothing like dispensing with the pleasantries and getting right to the heart of the matter.  And you’ve got the bollocks to call me nosy!  Dad obviously doesn't approve of her asking either.  I might as well answer her truthfully as she'll only persist in badgering me._

Benedict nodded as he rubbed the back of his neck.  “Yeah, and they were generous.” 

“Exactly _how_ generous were they?” 

“Quite.” 

Benedict could see that Wanda looked peeved at his response. 

“What exactly do you mean by _quite_?” 

“That they weren’t cheap.” 

Timothy rolled his eyes.  “I believe this is Ben’s way of telling you that this is none of your concern.” 

Wanda stared at Timothy as if he had grown two heads.  “Are you daft!  Of course it is!  What in the hell am I supposed to put in my book next to Donna’s parents:  quite?” she demanded. 

“Yes.  You can put quite generous,” tittered Benedict.  “Or you could put most generous if you prefer.” 

“Stop being so damn cagey with me, Benedict, and save the snark for when it's warranted!” Wanda snapped with annoyance.  “Will you at least tell me if they gave a monetary gift or something tangible – like a toaster?” 

“Oh, erm…Colin gave us a gift card for Harrods.  He said we needed to select our own toaster.” 

“Well done, him. That was very practical,” commented Timothy. "Much better than giving something impractical or that you already have." 

“Hells bells, Benedict!  This is like pulling teeth!” 

Benedict gave his mother a cheeky smile.  “The parents’ gift was monetary.” 

Wanda raised an inquisitive eyebrow at him.  “Was it cash or a personal cheque?  Was it in US dollars or pounds?” 

“Alright!  It was a personal cheque for US dollars if you _must_ know.” 

“Yes, I _must_!  And how much was this cheque for _exactly_?” 

“I think I already indicated that it was quite a generous amount.” 

“For fucks sake, Benedict!  Why so damn secretive all of a sudden?” 

“Wanda!  If Ben wants to share the details, he will.  Now, please stop badgering him, for fucks sake!” bellowed Timothy.  “You’re being unrelenting and annoying as hell!” 

“As a matter of fact, that and Colin’s card weren’t the only gifts we received," continued Benedict. "The gifts began arriving Monday with the mail.  Antonia must have issued an all-points bulletin to everyone they knew.” 

“Or perhaps they all read that long-winded engagement advert they placed in the New York Times,” quipped Timothy.  “I’ve never seen anything quite like it in my entire life!” 

“It read like a bloody CV!” laughed Wanda.  “I thought it was rather gauche of them.” 

“Did Donna make mention as to whether or not the advert was gratis?” asked Timothy. 

Benedict snorted.  “Of course it was!  Neil works for them.  The bastard could have taken up the whole bloody page for fucks sake.  One would have thought I was marrying a Royal!” 

“We barely got a mention,” remarked Wanda in a clearly disappointed tone.  “It was almost as if we were an embarrassment that had to be included somehow.” 

“That’s because we _are_ , Wanda,” retorted Timothy.  “As far as the wankers are concerned, we are an embarrassment.  We’re actors.  The worst possible profession in their eyes.” 

_Damn that cocksucker!  Mum and Dad’s feelings are hurt that more mention wasn’t made of them.  They’re trying their best to soldier on and keep a stiff upper lip; but I know how they feel.  My feelings were hurt as well.  I’m proud as fuck of them. They’re brilliant actors and deserving of accolades!_

“Well, to be honest, I don't think you're wrong to be miffed; and I'm miffed as well.  Especially, since they were listing everyone’s accomplishments, they should have made mention that you're actors with distinguished careers in film, stage and television.” 

“It’s bad enough you’re an actor as far as they’re concerned,” Timothy reminded him.  “I doubt they wanted to tell the world that your parents are as well.  They’d rather have people wonder as to what our professions are.” 

“They did talk you up nicely, Benedict,” pointed out Wanda.  “Oh, and the articles in the London Tribune and London Times were just lovely.  I bought extra copies of both for you and Donna.” 

"Thanks, Mum.  I know Donna will be chuffed to have copies to glue into her - our - engagement and wedding scrapbook."

“I’m sure that fucker Rodney Renfield had something to do with the Times article,” mused Timothy.  

“As am I,” agreed Benedict.  “Anyway, it’s already Thursday, and not one of those articles made a modicum of difference as far as I can tell.  It was over and forgotten about in a flash!”  He exclaimed with a snap of his long fingers.  

“It can never hurt to have positive publicity, Ben,” declared Timothy.  “Your name was in the news for a brief period, associated with a happy life milestone.” 

“Being linked to Donna’s name and column certainly can’t hurt either,” added Wanda.  “That’s good for both of you!” 

“People may start to recognize your name once some of your other works premiere.” 

“From your mouth to the acting god’s ears, Dad,” laughed Benedict. 

“You mentioned others sent gifts, Love,” Wanda began innocently.  “May I ask…” 

“No, you may not, Wanda!” barked Timothy.  “I thought we discussed this and decided it could wait until we were all back in London!” 

“Bloody hell, Mother!”  Benedict got up and reached into his back pocket and pulled out a sheet of paper, which he unfolded and held out to her.  She could see it the page was covered with Benedict's neatest handwriting.   “Here.  This is a list of who gave and how much.  Happy?” 

Wanda took the list and began to quickly scan it.  “Very! Thank you, you cheeky boy!” 

“It’s all right, Dad.  I know how much it means to Mum to keep track of these things,” laughed Benedict.  “Donna’s family does likewise.” 

“It wasn’t nice to tease your mother like that then,” Timothy chastised him.  “You’re going to give me a stroke one day.” 

_Here I’m sat, thirty-three years old, and he’s speaking to me like I’m still ten.  I suppose I acted like I was ten just now.  I do love baiting Mum though. I can be such a snarky bastard at times._

“Tim!  Come and have a look!” exclaimed Wanda.   She looked up at her son.  “You weren’t taking the piss when you said they were quite generous.  They all were!” 

Timothy strode over and peered over Wanda’s shoulder.  “Bloody hell!  That’s a right decent amount you and Donna have collected yes?” 

Benedict nodded.  “Oh, yeah.  I was bowled over by their display of  generosity, and Donna assures me that the wedding gifts will be even more so.” 

“Thank you, Benedict,” said Wanda, clearly pleased.  “I’ll be sure to make these entries in my book as soon as we get home.  Will Donna be needing a book as well?  I’d be happy to make one up for her if she’s short on time with wedding planning and all.” 

Timothy glared at her.  _We’ve barely been alone together with our son and already she’s showing signs of going back on her word._

“Not to worry.  Donna’s well-versed in the fine art of keeping track of gifts for future payback reference,” snickered Benedict.  “Antonia, apparently, is as anal as you are about it, Mum.  I find it terrifying how much you and she actually have in common.” 

“I find it terrifying as well,” laughed Wanda.  “We’re different in so many ways, yet I’ve been discovering striking similarities between us.  If we lived in New York, Toni and I might actually stand a chance of becoming chums.” 

"More like _frenemies_ ," quipped Timothy. "You'll never have to worry about Neil and I becoming best mates." 

“How have they been treating you?” Benedict inquired as he took stock of his surroundings.  “This room certainly is nice enough…it’s actually fucking spectacular!” 

"It's every bit as nice - if not nicer - than a five-star hotel," confirmed Wanda.  "And Toni's tried her utmost to come up here every morning and in a attempt to make up the beds if I'd let her, which I won't."

“I’ll be the first to admit that they’ve been nothing less than utterly lovely hosts,” replied Timothy.  “I can’t find a bad word to say - no matter how hard I try to find fault.” 

“Your father’s right.  They’ve both been nothing short of extremely hospitable.  As you can see, every creature comfort has been provided for.” 

Benedict got up and inspected the contents of the small refrigerator.  “Fuck me!  You weren’t kidding, Dad!  Look at all these lovely treats!  Bloody hell – is that Pecorino Truffle Cheese?” 

“It is,” confirmed Timothy.  “Have a taste.  It’s delectable.” 

Benedict broke off a small piece and popped it into his mouth.  “Mmmm…You could stay inside here indefinitely.” 

“The special excursion airfare Colin obtained for us requires us to stay here for two weeks,” Timothy explained.   “As you can see, it won’t be a hardship.  Should we choose to avoid them, we’ve got enough provisions to have a light breakfast and remain up here until they leave for work.”

"However, the breakfasts Toni prepares are so delicious, we don't want to miss them," added Wanda. “They’ve been careful to give us space. They both get up and leave for work early, so we have the whole place to ourselves most of the day.” 

“Not that we stay here,” clarified Timothy. “We’re perfectly able to go out and about on our own.” 

“Next week, we’re taking the train up to Westchester to spend a day with the Bunes,” Said Wanda. 

“Did Tertius know you two were coming?” 

“No.  When I got in touch with his Mum, I asked her not to say a word to him for fear he might slip to you and spoil the surprise,” replied Wanda. 

“As you know, your mother and I managed to cock up the surprise on our own,” laughed Timothy.  “Thanks to her bloody handbag.” 

“I was still surprised, Dad.  Has Colin been making a right nuisance of himself?”  

“The old boy’s tagged along a few times, but we’ve learnt to make do,” replied Timothy with a note of irritation in his voice.  “We’re going to treat them all to dinner and the opera next week to show our appreciation for their hospitality.  I made us a booking at the same restaurant you proposed to Donna in, but in their main dining room.” 

“Speaking of dinner, you never did say how dinner went Monday night with Sarah Jessica Parker and her husband?  I feel as if I’m in the dark,” complained Wanda.  “What were they like?  Did they have a nice home??” 

“When have we had time to be together?  We’ve all been dashing around since you two arrived.  Yes, they have an absolutely spectacular townhouse in the West Village. I found them both to be utterly lovely and very down-to-earth.  I enjoyed their company immensely and quickly forgot I was sitting down to break bread with two celebrities.  Their children are also delightful and make me yearn even more for some of my own.”

"Is she a good cook?" asked Wanda.

"Erm...yeah."

"What was on the menu?"

"Erm...let's see...there was a composed salad of gold and red beets with chevre and candied walnuts on field greens, followed by a roasted honey and ginger-marinated pork tenderloin served with mash and buttered brocolini.  The pudding was a store-bought cake, which you both would have loved.  It was composed of nothing but crepes layered with pastry cream. Sarah also knows how to make a proper pot of coffee."

Wanda nodded as if cataloguing the information for future reference.

“Did you manage to take any photos?”

_And my mother has the bollocks to always refer to me as 'barrister' whenever I display curiosity.  She's doing a right good job of cross-examining me right now. Did she just ask me if I took motherfucking photos???_

Benedict looked horrified at Wanda's question.  “Of course not, Mum!  That wouldn’t be proper to ask them for a selfie in their own home for fucks sake!  Besides Sarah mentioned to Donna that they had just done a photo spread of the place for one of the papers, so you can probably find it online.  Matt was joking that that was the reason everything was still so tidy.” 

“Colin thought nothing of taking photos of our home without permission,” Timothy reminded him.    

“Oh, God.  Please don’t remind me of that debacle of an afternoon,” moaned Benedict.  “Donna promised me that she’d have him delete them off his mobile, but I’m fairly certain Antonia found a way to save them to hers  prior to getting rid of them.” 

“Too bad we couldn’t go out to dinner – just the four of us,” said Wanda. 

“Mum!  I thought you were relishing the idea of family,” teased Benedict. 

“Pity it wasn’t a different family.  Then we’d be more eager for interaction,” added Timothy. 

“I thought we were all agreed on making the best of things,” said Benedict sharply.  “It’s not like they live in England – Heaven forbid.  Normally, there is a whole ocean separating us from them.” 

“Heaven forbid is right!” exclaimed Timothy. “I couldn’t tolerate a steady diet of them.  Two weeks will probably be pushing the boundaries, but your mother was hell bent on accepting their offer.” 

“You’ll have to forgive us for venting, Benedict,” said Wanda. “It’s still hard to put certain things behind us.” 

“Are you referring to that motherfucking review?” demanded Benedict. 

Wanda and Timothy exchanged a guilty look before Timothy finally spoke up. 

“Of course she is!  We’re your parents and those were hurtful words – many of them unwarranted in our opinion.  It still pains us no matter how much time passes – especially since we’re going to be bound to that cocksucker via your upcoming marriage to his daughter.” 

“Neil has no intention of taking them back, which is what he told me that Sunday in no uncertain terms,” declared Wanda.  “I suppose that’s water that should have been left under the bridge a long time ago…” 

_Hmmm…the elephant in the room,_ thought Benedict _.  Mum and Dad obviously agreed with some of what Neil wrote.  Dad said: many of them unwarranted.  That means they felt some of it was...and they were right.  As was Donna's dad.  He wasn't totally wrong in dressing me down for leaving on my motorbike.  Even Olivia thought I should have stayed to show support._

Benedict crossed the room and perched on the window seat beside Wanda.  He regarded his parents for a long moment before speaking.  

“I’ve had the opportunity to do a lot of thinking and soul-searching about that review ever since the realization sunk in that Neil Saint James is going to be my father-in-law,” Benedict began.  “You know he wasn’t entirely wrong.  I truly did deserve some of his criticism.” 

A look passed between his parents and Timothy nodded in agreement.  “Yes, you did.” 

“But certainly not all of it!” insisted Wanda. 

“Spoken like a true mother,” laughed Benedict.  “It’s okay.  I can live with a bad review.  It’s true the words will always sting, as I’ve always been thin-skinned when it comes to criticism; but I’ve got to learn from the experience, yes?  It will only serve to benefit me in the end.” 

His parents both smiled and nodded in agreement. 

“You’ve come a long way since that night, Ben,” said Timothy.  “We’ve read and heard nothing but praise about your work ethic and performances.  Your mother and I are damn proud of you.” 

Benedict wiped a tear from the corner of his eye.  “Thank you, both.” 

Wanda moved closer to him and gave him a hug and peck on the cheek.  “I love you, Benedict.  You are so very dear to us!” she cried.  

Benedict hugged her close.  “I love you, too, Mum…and you, Dad.  You both mean the world to me.” 

Timothy smiled through tears in his eyes, as his son got up to embrace him as well.  “And here we are enjoying a truly soppy familial bonding moment.” 

The three of them shared a hearty laugh. 

“What I don’t care for is their attitude that acting is a worthless profession,” declared Benedict.  “We adore our craft and work our arses off to bring characters to life.  There is nothing more gratifying than to know that we’ve succeeded at entertaining an audience yes?” 

“Aye.  You’ll get no argument from me,” said Timothy. “The man clearly has a lack of respect for our profession.” 

“I pray to God that one day Neil Saint James will regret being so flip with his little derogatory asides and snide comments about you being an actor,” sniffed Wanda. 

“Don’t worry, Mum.  I promise you both that one day I’m going to make the wanker eat those words, and I want you and Dad to be present when it happens.” 

“I look forward to that day,” laughed Timothy. “I’ll bring a bottle of brown sauce for him.” 

“As do I!” exclaimed Wanda.  “Can you imagine the look on his face if you were to be nominated for an Oscar one day?” 

Benedict snorted.  “No!  I can’t even imagine the look on my own face were that to happen; but it’s a lovely dream yes?”  He approached the nightstand and picked up the bud vase. The rose was just starting to wilt.  “Dad, are you responsible for this?” 

Timothy nodded bashfully.  “I couldn’t let a Monday pass without acknowledging the woman I love.” 

Wanda beamed adoringly at her husband.  “Can you believe he arranged to have it delivered as soon as we arrived?” 

Benedict smiled at his father with great affection as he felt a tug at his heartstrings.  “Yes, I can believe that,” he said softly.  “Dad, you are such a diehard romantic; and I love it!” 

“And I wouldn’t have him any other way,” confirmed Wanda.  “How very lucky for Donna that you took after your father when it comes to romance – in addition to so many of his other wonderful qualities. You're a credit to him.” 

Benedict felt himself blush at the compliment. “Please, Mum.  I’m going to get all soppy again.” 

“Did you finish setting up the Wedding List then?” asked Wanda. 

_Christ!  The Wanda Express is right back on track with the wedding questions.  I’m going to have to pull my wife aside and have a word with her._

“Wanda!  Can I have a word with you?” 

“It’s alright, Dad.  We’re done. Actually, Donna and I had a wonderful time doing that, followed by a delicious dinner at Jean Georges.  Neil got us free theatre tickets for Tuesday night to see _The Norman Conquests,_ which we enjoyed immensely; so if you’re looking for a show to see, I highly recommend it.” 

“Neil got us free tickets to the Nutcracker for Tuesday night and yesterday we had free tickets to a matinee of _Billy Elliot_ ,” said Wanda.  “Last night I gave Toni a hand with chopping vegetables for the stuffing.” 

“Having a theatre critic for an in-law does have its perks,” mused Timothy. “It tends to make me judge him a tad less harshly than I normally do.” 

“Yesterday Donna took me around to see a lot of the Christmas things, and last night we had dinner at Takahashi for superb sushi.” 

“Takahashi sounds familiar,” murmured Timothy. 

“It should, Dad.  Not only is it considered one of the finest Japanese restaurants in the city; but I found out later it’s owned by Donna’s ex-fiancé’s parents.” 

“That’s where I heard it,” confirmed Timothy.  “Toni and Neil are still friendly with the parents.” 

“They were actually very lovely people. We received the royal treatment with a round of champagne on the house to toast our engagement as well as several gratis treats interspersed throughout the meal. Then we had more free theatre tickets for _The Lion King_ , which Donna was over the moon for given her penchant for Disney and musicals.” 

“No wonder you look knackered,” mused Timothy.  “Donna’s running you ragged, Son.” 

“You need to get some rest, Benedict. Once the New Year comes, you’ll be very busy with filming _Sherlock_ and all,” Wanda reminded him.  “Don’t let yourself get run down.  You don’t’ want to risk coming down with Glandular fever again.” 

“Winter is flu season, so I hope you make sure to get a flu shot from Mark as soon as you get home,” Timothy added.  “You don’t need to get sick whilst in the midst of filming.  The producers will not look upon having to shut down production kindly because their star takes ill.” 

“I’ll look into it when I get home,” said Benedict dismissively. “Please don’t be hard on Donna.  She’s trying to make the most of my time here before I have to return to London.  As she’s fond of saying:  I can always sleep on the plane.” 

“That girl certainly has an abundance of energy,” said Wanda. "I truly envy her at times." 

“Sometimes I get knackered just watching her dashing about,” laughed Timothy. 

“Let her dash then,” chuckled Benedict.  “It’ll come in handy for when we have children.  I love watching Donna interact with her nieces and nephews.  She has such a good rapport with them.   I bet they’re downstairs right now doing something together.” 

******************************************************

  

Donna Saint James sat at the kitchen table, carefully writing the menu cards for the place settings.  This had always been her job as far back as she could remember, and it was something she enjoyed doing immensely.  The kitchen bustled with activity:  Toni was busy with the decorations for the platter the turkey would rest on while her mother, Serafina, stood at the stove tending to a large pot of simmering tomato sauce, which contained meatballs, sausages and brasciolas.  Donna’s sister-in-law, Scarlett, was putting together the salad; and her brother, Kenny, sat at the table with Donna, surrounded by his twin daughters who were helping him fill bowls with nuts in the shell and fresh fruit.  Neil stood next to his mother-in-law, stirring the soup.  Donna’s grandfather, Carmine, was inspecting the bottles of white wine that were intended to be served with the turkey course. 

“This looks like a nice wine,” Carmine declared.  “I don’t recall ever having anything from this vineyard.  What made you pick it, Neil?” 

“Daddy didn’t pick the wine, Popi,” replied Donna.  _Jeez Louise!  Wait until they see what the desserts are. Steve’s idea to leave the desserts downstairs was a good one.  Thank God no one has come to look over my shoulder.  I just hope Charlie doesn’t spill the beans later on. Kids have a way of coming out with things._

“Cumberbatch picked it,” replied Neil with a smirk. 

“I thought he didn’t know shit about wine,” said Carmine, clearly confused. 

“He doesn’t,” confirmed Neil.  

“There’s only one way to find out.”  Carmine opened one of the bottles and poured himself a taste.  “Hmmm…could have fooled me.  This is damn fine wine.”  He brought the glass over to his son-in-law so he could have a taste. 

Neil accepted the glass from his father-in-law and took a sniff and a mouthful, which he allowed to coat his palate.  

“Well?” demanded Carmine.  “I dare you to find fault with that wine, Neil.” 

_Give him time, Popi,_ thought Donna.  _Benedict picked it, so he’ll manage to find something to complain about just for the fun of it.  
_

Neil swallowed and smacked his lips in satisfaction.  “I concur.  It’s excellent.  It’s also obvious that Cumberbatch had to have had help.” 

_Wow!  This is a first!  I can’t wait to tell Benedict that Daddy actually liked the wine.  
_

“That’s nonsense!” scoffed Carmine.  “I watched him peruse the wines myself.  He certainly looked as if he knew what he was doing to me.  I think you’re looking to find fault because you don’t like him.” 

“That’s not true, Papa!” exclaimed Toni adamantly. “Neil doesn’t dislike Benedict.” 

_Mom protests too much._   Donna noticed that her father didn’t confirm or deny her mother’s words.  _And Daddy’s saying nothing to change Popi’s mind.  
_

Carmine shrugged.  “He seems nice enough to me.  Besides Donna’s the one who has to be happy with him.  Isn’t that so, Donna?” 

Donna smiled at her grandfather.  “Oh, yes, Popi!  Benedict makes me very happy.” 

“There. Case closed as we say in court,” laughed Carmine.  “Judge’s prerogative.” 

“Did Ben call or text you while we were in the liquor store, Muffin?” Neil asked Donna. 

“Of course not!” retorted Donna.  “I was here discussing menus.  Did any of you see me text or take a call from Benedict during that time period?” 

“No!”  All the women replied in unison.  

“Jesus.  I feel like I’m in court,” snickered Toni.  “Donna was sitting right beside me, Dear.  I would have noticed.” _  
_

_She certainly would have,_ thought Donna with amusement.  _And she would have found a way to let him know._ _Dad’s right though.  Ben had some coaching._

“Be fair, Dad,” said Steven, coming in from the back yard with Kenny and Scarlett’s son, Charlie, in tow.  “Ben may have been boning up on wines.” 

“Not since lunch last week!” Chortled Toni.  “The man goes into panic mode whenever he’s presented with a wine list!” 

“You’re exaggerating, Mom,” protested Donna. 

“Whenever Benedict is anxious, he starts rubbing the back of his neck or his thigh,” retorted Toni.  “I’m a lawyer.  I know when a witness is nervous or anxious.” 

_Alright, Mom.  You win that round.  Those are Benedict’s telltale signs whenever he’s feeling uncomfortable about something._

“There’s no way for him to acquire that kind of knowledge in so short a time,” interjected Neil.  

“Ben’s very sharp,” declared Carly defensively.  “An actor has to be to be able to remember all those lines they’re given.” 

Donna saw her father roll his eyes at Carly’s comment. 

“He looked like a deer caught in the headlights when presented with a wine list, Sweet Potato,” said Neil. 

Donna looked at her parents.  _They make a good point.  Ben definitely had help, and I know who it was.  My cellphone contacts were left in the letter of the alphabet where Frederick’s number is.  I had been looking for Michelle’s number prior to that, so it should have been left in the ‘R’s, not the ‘H’s.  Frederick's last name is Hendrickson.  
_

“Does it really matter that much whether the man had help or not?” demanded Carmine.  “I think you should be happy that we don’t have to swill some kind of dreck and pretend to like it.” 

“Did you bring your homemade red wine for the pasta course, Popi?” Donna inquired.  “I’m dying for Benedict and his parents to try it.” 

Carmine frowned.  “I did; but I’m concerned that it’ll be too strong for them.” 

Neil burst out laughing. “Believe me, Dad, nothing can _ever_ be too strong for them when it comes to liquor!  They’ll down your wine like it was nothing.” 

“I’ve seen them drink gin like it was water, Papa!” chimed in Toni.  “Remember those drinks Tim made us that time, Donna?” 

“Yes.  Tim believes in being generous with his liquor,” confirmed Donna.  

“Generous was an understatement, Muffin,” countered Toni.  “It also astonishes me that they drank those drinks down and managed to remain perfectly sober.  It’s amazing how high their tolerance for alcohol is.  I could barely tolerate a few sips!” 

“I’ve never had such strong drinks in my life,” Neil conceded with a shake of his head. 

Carmine laughed.  “Neither of you have ever had much of a tolerance for booze, so I can’t go by you two.” 

“That’s because Timothy knows how to mix a proper drink,” declared Colin from the doorway.  “He said your drinks are like fairy pee, Neil.” 

Carmine laughed heartily.  “I see.  Well, my son-in-law was never known for his bar tending.” 

“Where’s Pierre, Grandpa?” Donna asked.  “Are you keeping him downstairs?” 

“For the time being,” replied Colin.  "It's for the best as I fear he'd get in the way of our lovely cooks."

“That he would, Colin.  Pierre would only be trying to mooch the food,” laughed Serafina.  

“I also didn’t want to startle the Cumberbatches with his size,” said Colin.  “I think they’re expecting something more along the lines of a toy poodle.” 

“Are you almost done yet, Sister?” Carly asked Donna impatiently.  She was just about done arranging the antipasto platter with Italian cheeses, cured meats, anchovies, roasted red peppers and black olives.  “Dinner will be ready before you will at this rate!” 

“Almost, Curly Carly.  I’m on the last one now,” replied Donna, as she finished the last one with a flourish and took a moment to admire her neat script.  “Done!” 

“I’ll set them out, while you finish up the antipasto, Carly,” volunteered Scarlett. “Girls, do you want to help me?” 

The twins nodded and left Kenny’s side, abandoning their display.  “I’ll put the fruit and nuts on the sideboard as soon as I tidy this arrangement,” he chuckled picking up the fruit and nuts that had fallen onto the table.  

Scarlett studied the top menu card and frowned.  “What in the heck happened to the desserts?  There are no pies!  Wait…I just see chocolate cream pie.  You didn’t bake the other pies?  What’s an Eton Mess?” 

“Aunt Donna wrecked them,” piped up Charlie in response as he fiddled with some walnuts.   “They look ugly!  Ewww!”  He scrunched up his nose and pulled a face. 

_Thank you, Charlie.  I can always count on you to squeal_ , thought Donna miserably. 

All eyes turned to Donna.  Everyone’s faces wore quizzical expressions except Carly, Steve and Colin.  

“Charlie!  That isn’t nice!” Scarlett reprimanded her son.  “Just because something looks different doesn’t mean you can say things like that.  I want you to apologize to Aunt Donna.” 

“Sorry Aunt Donna,” Charlie said meekly. “But they really are ugly, Daddy,” he whispered to Kenny behind his hand. 

“Hey!  Why don’t we go watch the Green Bay Packers vs the Detroit Lions,” suggested Steve quickly in effort to distract everyone from the desserts.  “The game’s already started. Anyone else care to join me?” 

“No!” replied Neil.  “I’m on soup duty. Besides I’m only interested in the New York Giants vs the Denver Broncos; but that isn’t until tonight.” 

“We’ll have to make do with the Oakland Raiders and Dallas Cowboys at four fifteen,” said Kenny.  “I’m sure it won’t be a hardship for you to watch it, Dad.” 

“Do you think we’ll be done by then?” asked Carmine.  “I’m looking forward to that one as well.” 

“I’m fairly sure we’ll be done by the Raiders/Cowboys game,” replied Toni. “We can have dessert while we watch the game if need be.” 

“Speaking of dessert, you were starting to tell us what happened to the desserts, Donna,” said Serafina. 

_No, Nona.  I wasn’t.  I was hoping that everyone would be distracted with the football discussion to forget.  
_

“C’mon, Charlie, let’s watch the game with Grandpa.  Colin, care to join us?”  Steve asked, as he began to shepherd the little boy towards the hallway. 

“Brilliant idea!” agreed Colin.  “This way we won’t be underfoot.” 

“So, I want to hear more about these desserts, Donna,” prodded Scarlett, looking over the menus.  “Why the change this year?” 

“This family isn’t into change,” laughed Serafina.  “I hope it’s nothing _too_ drastic.  Remember the time I mixed some corn into the mashed potatoes?”

"I do! It was awful!" said Carmine.  "Mashed potatoes are meant to be served plain."

"Thank you for your two cents, Judge!" laughed Serafina.  "See what I mean, Toni?  Your father despises change."

“Oh, Mama, I’m sure it’s nothing too different.  Is it, Muffin?” Toni asked hopefully.  “Popi looks forward to his pumpkin pie each year.”

"You're damn right I do!" confirmed Carmine. _  
_

Donna waited until Charlie was out of earshot before replying. 

“It’s just that Charlie isn’t used to the different tweaks that we made to the traditional American desserts,” explained Donna _.  That sounded pretty plausible._

“Donna decided that it would be nice to honor Ben and his parents by giving our usual desserts an English twist being this is the first time they’re experiencing a traditional American Thanksgiving,” continued Carly.  

_I don’t know if I’d call it a traditional American Thanksgiving, but it gets the point across_. Donna smiled at her twin sister.   _I owe you one, Curly Carly_.  “Exactly! I wanted to serve something new yet familiar to them.” 

“What a nice thing to do!” said Serafina. 

“I agree with Sera,” said Carmine.  “That was very thoughtful of you, Donna, so if the pumpkin pie isn’t exactly the same this year, I’ll make do.  I’m sure whatever you’ve concocted will be delicious.” 

_Concocted - that’s a good word, Popi.  It sums up what Ben and I did perfectly._

“Jesus Christ, Muffin.  Charlie made it sound as if we were feeding them something truly awful like capozzelli trifle,” blurted out Neil. “So what are we having?  Lemon curd stuffed cannoli or pumpkin triffle?” 

“That’s the idea, Dad,” said Carly.  “And pumpkin trifle just happens to be  one of the new desserts.” 

“They happen to eat capozzelli, Dad,” muttered Donna.  “Tim’s sister, Amber, lives in Italy; so they are very familiar with it.” 

“Imagine that,” quipped Neil.  “I suppose you couldn’t call our annual feast ‘traditional’ anyway; so what the heck.” 

“These future in-laws of yours sound like adventurous eaters,” observed Serafina. “I’ll make sure to cook dinner for them one night next week.” 

“That they are, Nona,” smiled Donna, dividing the place cards into two equal piles and handing one each to her twin nieces.  “Can you guys put one of these on each plate for me?” 

Melanie and Melissa nodded solemnly at their aunt that they would. 

“Scarlett, can you and Donna give me a hand with the antipasto?” asked Carly. “Scarlett, you can roll up the prosciutto; and Donna I could use you to make rosettes out of the roasted red peppers.” 

“Come on, girls,” said Kenny.  “I’ll make sure they actually wind up on the plates,” he said as an aside to Donna. 

 

**************************************************

  

“Has everyone arrived yet?” Wanda asked, brushing her hair. 

“Yeah.  I think so.  Antonia’s parents are here.  Kenny and his family have come downstairs.  Colin was going to fetch Donna’s dog from the breeder along with Kenny’s son, Charlie, so they might be back by now.  It seems the dog’s been on stud duty for the past few days. Apparently, he’s given his all and is ready to return home.” 

“Maybe you and Donna can have one of the puppies sent to London when the time comes,” said Wanda. 

“Erm…I don’t have room for a dog in my flat, Mum.” 

“Oh, poodles are tiny!” scoffed Wanda. 

“I think we should be getting downstairs then,” suggested Timothy.  “They’ll be wondering if we’re up here talking about them.” 

“I’m sure they’re downstairs talking about us as well,” retorted Wanda.  “However, we really should make an appearance.” 

“Well, then, if you’re sure you’re ready for your close-up, Miss Ventham, let us proceed,” snickered Timothy, standing aside.  “I’m sure the self-appointed President of the US chapter of your fan club is downstairs with a ‘Welcome to Thanksgiving Dinner’ banner and another bunch of posies – provided the florist had sufficient time to restock.” 

Wanda tossed her hair back, nose in the air, as she strutted towards the doorway. “Bugger off, Tim!  And I mean that in the nicest possible way!” 

“After you, Commander,” said Timothy with a gallant bow. “It is a foot soldier’s duty to trail adoringly along behind his leader.” 

“Stop that, you!” snorted Wanda, swatting his bottom playfully.  “You’re damn lucky I choose to keep you around for as long as I have.” 

“Oh, you wouldn’t have it any other way, Pet,” smiled Timothy, leaning down to kiss her. 

“No, I wouldn’t,” said Wanda, smiling back up at him and returning the kiss.  

Benedict Cumberbatch smiled to himself as he held the door open for his parents to pass through.  _I do love how they get along so well.  Let’s hope the good mood prevails throughout the rest of the day!  
_

********************************************************

  

“Where’s Charlie, Daddy?” Melanie asked Kenny as they stood in the dining room about to place the menu cards on the table. 

“I want him to help, too,” said Melissa.  “Mommy says we should share fun stuff with him.” 

“Okay, let’s go find him.  He went to watch TV with Uncle Steve and  Grandpa Colin.” 

“Can Tim read to us?” asked Melanie.  “He said he would.” 

“Oh, you mean _The Hobbit_?” laughed Kenny.  “I think that book is more for Charlie than you two.”  _They haven’t a clue about most of it.  They just like that Tim imitates all the characters._

“I like Tim’s voices, Daddy!” replied Melanie. 

“Me, too!” added Melissa.  “The dragon is scary!” 

“Tim’s spending time visiting with Ben today, but I’m sure he’ll make time to read to you guys before bed.” 

“Can we get Pierre?  Can we watch TV?” asked Melissa. 

“I want to watch _Beauty and the Beast_ , Daddy!” exclaimed Melanie. “Can we watch that, please?” 

“Can Uncle Steve sing Gaston’s song?” piped up Melissa.  

“Pierre has to stay downstairs so he doesn’t get in the way. How about we ask Uncle Steve and your brother if they wouldn’t mind watching _Beauty and the Beast_ with us?” said Kenny as he shepherded his daughters out of the dining room and back into the kitchen.  “Let’s just tell Mommy that we decided to watch TV, so she can put these on the table for us.” 

 

*****************************************************

  

“It sounds like they’re all in the kitchen,” said Wanda as the three of them came to a standstill at the bottom of the stairs.  

“Chattering away like a flock of magpies,” snickered Timothy. 

“I hear a telly playing somewhere,” said Benedict, craning his neck in order to try and place the sound.  “Sounds like American football.  It’s on all bloody day you know.  You can’t escape it.” 

“Someone must be in the study then,” said Timothy, pointing down the hallway.  “The study is at the end of the hallway and has one of those large screen tellys.” 

“Are you sure?” inquired Benedict. 

Timothy nodded.  “Quite.  We were held captive in there the other night for the purpose of viewing Carly and Steve’s wedding video. They have the whole blasted affair recorded – from the pre-ceremony preparations straight through to the honeymoon!” 

“Such extravagance, the likes of which I’ve never seen!” whispered Wanda, holding onto Benedict’s forearm.  “To think of what something like that must have cost, gave me chills.” 

“I felt as if I were watching one of those infernal sales pitches and was expected to make a purchase at the end,” snorted Timothy.  “I don’t know what you and Donna have discussed regarding your wedding venue; but they certainly expect you to be married at Disney World with all the hoopla that goes along with it.” 

“I thought we weren’t going to say anything,” snapped Wanda.  “And there you go…” 

“I was merely warning Ben about the sales pitch that’s undoubtedly forthcoming.  Do you have any doubts as to their motive?” 

Wanda shook her head.  “None. It was akin to one of those timeshare pitches. Remember the time we thought we’d be ever-so-clever and take advantage of that free holiday in Ibizia?” 

“Wasn’t it just?” laughed Timothy. 

“You two were lucky that Dennis was able to get you out of it by agreeing to pay for the holiday,” said Benedict.  “Erm…did any of them say anything about our wedding…specifically, I mean?” 

“Toni went on and on about what a lovely wedding venue it was and how everything exceeded their expectations, blah, blah, blah,” replied Wanda with an air of boredom.  

“To be fair, Neil kept his mouth shut,” added Timothy.  “It was Toni who was going on and on ad infinitum like a used car salesman…woman.” 

“Jesus,” breathed Benedict.  “The one who I would have least suspected to butt in.” 

Wanda fixed him with a look.  “Why she’s the obvious one!” 

“It was refreshing that the wanker father kept his mouth shut for once,” chimed in Timothy.  “He just sat back and drank his coffee.” 

“Thanks for the heads up,” said Benedict.  “Donna and I have been expecting an assault.  We figured today made the most sense from their point of view.  That way we can all take part in the…discussion.” 

_I wonder if Benedict and Donna have made any plans yet?_ Thought Wanda, eyeing her son.  _He certainly doesn’t seem concerned about them butting in._

_My wife is dying to ask Ben if he and Donna have discussed plans yet.  I hope to hell she keeps her mouth shut and doesn’t cock it up,_ thought Timothy. 

“Ben…” began Wanda.  She caught the cautionary glare from her husband and immediately changed what she was going to say.  “…let’s go through the dining room to the kitchen.  It’s a short cut.” 

Benedict looked surprised.  “But they’re the same distance.” 

“True, but the one in the dining room has a swinging door,” said Timothy. 

“It doesn’t matter which one we use then.” 

“Oh, but it does,” Wanda retorted. 

“It enables your mother to listen in on what they’re saying,” explained Timothy. 

“And I’ve heard some fairly interesting things in the short time I’ve been here!” added Wanda. 

Benedict glared at his mother.  _And she has the bollocks to call me nosy, bless her!_ “Jesus. Now, I know who I got the curiosity gene from.” 

“And you’ve always been a credit to her,” said Timothy. 

“Sod off, Timothy.  Shall we have a listen, Benedict?  We shan’t get a better opportunity.” 

“Oh, for fucks sake, Mum!  Lead on then!” 

“I couldn’t have put it better myself,” quipped Timothy Carlton as he trailed along after them. 

 

***********************************************

  

“Donna, I’m glad to hear you’ve picked December for your wedding.  I hate the hot weather in Florida!”  Said Serafina, turning the gas off under the huge pot.  “This is hot enough, Toni.  I think we can start with the antipasto.” 

“Which resort will we be staying at for your wedding?” asked Carmine.  “I was hoping to talk you into trying those garden cottage accommodations over at the Boardwalk so we can have a nice little garden to sit in.” 

“Knowing Donna, it will be the Animal Kingdom Lodge, Popi!” said Carly.  “Right, Donna?  That is your favorite resort.” 

_God damn!  My in-laws had to start up with this on Thanksgiving Day of all times!_ Thought Neil angrily.  _As long as my wife keeps her mouth shut, maybe I can diffuse this. It was bad enough Toni trapped the Cumberbatches into watching Carly’s wedding video the other night._

Donna regarded her grandparents with a sheepish look.  _Crap!  Why did Nona have to bring this up now?  Benedict is upstairs chatting away with his parents, oblivious that the inquisition has begun.  I need him down here now for support!!!_

“I don’t know about anyone else, but I’m starving!” said Neil pleasantly. 

Everyone ignored him in favor of continuing the wedding discussion. 

“December is perfect!” exclaimed Scarlett, clapping her hands together in delight.  “All the Christmas decorations will be up.  Just think of the beautiful backdrops they will make for your photos!  I love all the gingerbread houses that the resorts put up!” 

“And all the special Christmas entertainment,” added Carly. “Oh, Donna, maybe you can get a special package to have your rehearsal dinner at LeCellier followed by the Candlelight Processional and an Illuminations dessert party in the area below France.” 

“Who’s doing the Candlelight Processional that night?”  asked Serafina.  “I hope it’s Whoopie Goldberg.  She was great the time we saw her.” 

Toni shook her head.  “It’s too soon, Mama.  They won’t release that information until sometime next year.  Don’t worry. I’ll be right on top of it though. I can email Danny Manganero to let me know.  His office does all the coordinating and contracts with the celebrities.” 

“We can’t miss Mickey’s Very Merry Christmas Party in the Magic Kingdom,” added Scarlett.  “The kids will love that!” 

“It’s too soon to get tickets for that as well, but I’m sure Danny can work something out for us,” said Toni.  “He is VP of Live Entertainment after all.” 

“Since when did Danny become a wedding planner?” interjected Neil.  “You can’t bother the man for these things, Toni.” 

“And why not?  Danny’s like a member of the family!” insisted Toni.  “We keep in touch with his parents.  I know Donna’s still corresponds with them as well.” 

“Mom!  This is not what…” 

Toni continued as if Donna hadn’t spoken.  “Danny wouldn’t mind helping out – especially since it’s for Donna.  Besides December is a very popular month for Disney weddings.  We don’t’ want to get shut out of the choice venues!” 

_My mother’s already been checking dates!  Holy cow!_ Thought Donna angrily.  _And she thinks nothing of involving Danny, who I’m no longer with.  This is fucked up._

“Mom, were you already checking into availability without thinking of checking with Benedict and me first?” 

“Of course!  The first thing I did was begin seeing what venues were available for December third, fourth and fifth.” 

“Our wedding date is December fourth, Mom.  What are all those other dates?  Do you think you can just change our date without consulting us?” demanded Donna. 

“When you chose to get married on a Saturday, didn't it occur to you that Saturdays are the most popular days? You have to be flexible with the dates,” said Toni.  “You have to work with me here, Muffin.” 

“Mom, you are a natural-born wedding planner!” giggled Carly.  “You missed your calling.” 

“Toni, it sounds as if you’ve been wading into the pool of enthusiasm,” said Neil with a frown. 

“I only made a couple of innocent inquiries,” retorted Toni.  “I don’t want to see Donna get shut out of anything because we didn’t jump on things.” 

_Not once has my wife mentioned Cumberbatch,_ thought Neil.  _And as much as the man irritates the shit out of me, these aren't Donna's decisions alone to make._   

“Toni, that’s for Donna and Ben to jump on when they’re ready to,” Neil reminded her gently. 

“I wish you hadn’t done that, Mom!” exclaimed Donna. 

“Well, you _will_ care that I did some of the legwork when I tell you what I found out!” snapped Toni.  “There are some venues already booked that far in advance!” 

There was a collective exclamation of disbelief and horror in the room.

“Oh, no!  Don’t let it be the Wedding Pavilion!” exclaimed Carly.  "Donna's had her heart set on getting married there!" 

“The Wedding Pavilion was already booked for the afternoon and early evening, so I emailed Danny, who put me in touch with his sister-in-law, Jill." 

"Who in the hell is Jill?" demanded a frustrated Neil. 

"She's the General Manager of the Wedding Pavilion.”  

Donna felt her cheeks getting hot.  _This is insane, and why don’t I just come out and tell her that we decided against a Disney wedding?_   _Because part of me is curious as to how far she went with this.  
_

“Mom!  Why on earth would you bother Danny?  He has nothing to do with wedding planning?”    

“But Jill does!  I already spoke with her, and she said she’ll be happy to act as your wedding planner.  As a matter of fact, we have the Wedding Pavilion penciled in for December fourth at noon.” 

“Antonia!  This sounds like you’ve leaped head first into the pool of enthusiasm and hit bottom!” bellowed Neil, pounding his fist on the countertop. “What in the hell did we discuss about not getting involved in the kids' wedding plans?" 

"It's a darn good thing you had this Jill pencil in the date, Mom," said Donna. "Because..." 

Toni cast a smug self-satisfied look towards Neil.  "See, I knew Donna would appreciate my help." 

"That's not help!" thundered Neil.  "That's called first-class meddling, and I'm asking you to please stop.  Didn't we discuss this?  It's like we never had that conversation about the wedding!" 

"Mom, you need to let me finish what I was about to say," said Donna irritably. 

"Oh, of course, Muffin; but you don't need to thank me. I wanted to do this for you." 

"I wasn't going to thank you, Mom,” declared Donna Saint James, standing up straight and mustering every bit of self-confidence she could. “I was going to tell you that it was a good thing you had the date penciled in so it can be easily erased.  You see, Benedict and I have no intention of getting married in the Grand Floridian Wedding Pavilion."

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Donna's family is meant to be pushy and overly enthusiastic when it comes to getting caught up in the wedding planning. 
> 
> 2\. I decided Toni was going to be the instigator when it came to leading the sales pitch, and Neil 'the good one" for a change.
> 
> 3\. Next week we'll see if Donna caves in or not.


	141. Chapter 141

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 3 of Thanksgiving Day with the Cumberbatch and Saint James families. Wanda acquires two new spy recruits. Benedict meets Pierre. 
> 
> Note: I’ll be using ******* for things happening at the same time.

 

  

Benedict Cumberbatch and Timothy Carlton stood gawking at the elaborately set dining room table that had been laid for Thanksgiving dinner in disbelief.  There were candles, a variety of miniature pumpkins, colourful gourds, leaves and small porcelain turkeys scattered along the runner that ran down the center of the table.  In addition to the adult’s table, there was a small whimsically-decorated children’s table next to it. 

“This reminds me of the banquet table in the Great Hall of Hampton Court Palace yes?” whispered Wanda, stifling a giggle.  “Only that table wasn’t laid with Havilland Bone China, Lalique Crystal Stemware and Towle Sterling Silver Cutlery – and before you ask – I assure you the cutlery isn’t silver-plated.  It’s the real deal.” 

“How do you know this?” asked a flabbergasted Benedict in a hushed tone. “I just got done helping to choose our silver pattern, and I’ll be damned if I can tell the difference between the two!  It all looks the same to me.” 

“It comes from the time your mother spent at that post finishing school when she was a girl,” joked Timothy. “She excelled in her sterling flatware identification classes.  She’s a true credit to her teacher when it comes to tableware spotting.” 

“Bugger off, Tim!  I helped Toni lay the table, so I had plenty of opportunities to heft it in my hands.  It’s all about the weight, Benedict. Trust me, this stuff is heavy.” 

“For fucks sake!” whispered Benedict.  “It really is like something one would see in a magazine spread.”  

“It reminds me of the holiday tableware displays they have in the department stores,” added Timothy in a low voice.  

Wanda bent over and retrieved a small sheet of cardboard from the floor that had a smaller white sheet of paper glued onto it.  The white paper was festooned with autumn leaves with a turkey centered at the top of the sheet.  The paper was covered in cursive writing in gold ink. “Ah, this is the menu,” she said waving it at Benedict and Timothy.  “Care to hear what we’re having?” 

“Regale us, please, Pet.”  

Benedict and Timothy peered over Wanda’s shoulder as she cleared her throat.  “That’s Donna’s handwriting,” observed Benedict. "I guess this is what she's been doing to occupy herself whilst I've been upstairs gossiping with you two."  

“Shall I read it aloud then?” asked Wanda.  

“There’s no need, Mum, we can see it from here,” replied Benedict. 

"No, we can’t. Speak for yourself, Son.  My reading glasses are upstairs, so I'd appreciate it if one of you wouldn't mind reading the bloody thing to me," requested Timothy.   

"Here, use mine," said Wanda as took her reading glasses out of the pocket of her jacket and offered them to Timothy.  “I can just about make out Donna’s writing.” 

The menu read as follows:

 

Antipasto

Stracciatella Soup

Lasagna

Mixed Green Salad, Olive Oil and Balsamic Dressing

 Meatballs, Sausage and Brasciolas Braised in Tomato Sauce

 Semolina Bread

Roast Turkey with Brioche, Chestnut and Mushroom Stuffing, Giblet Gravy

Mashed Yukon Gold Potatoes

 Sweet Potato Casserole

Yorkshire Puddings

Roasted Brussels Sprouts, Toasted Hazelnuts, Maple-Candied Bacon

Baked Corn Pudding

Fresh Cranberry Relish/Traditional Jellied Cranberry Sauce

Cornbread Sticks , Cranberry Walnut Loaf, Pumpkin Muffins, Buttermilk Biscuits

Salted and Honey-whipped Butters, Apple and Pumpkin Butters

Red and White Wine, Mulled Apple Cider 

Fresh & Dried Fruits, Assorted Cheeses and Nuts in Shell

Pumpkin-Gingersnap Trifle

Apple Cobbler

Mincemeat Sundaes with Custard Sauce

Lemon Eton Mess

Chocolate Cream Pie

Bourbon Pecan Pie Tartlets

Coconut Custard Pie

Holiday Decorated Butter Cookies

Italian Pastries

Assorted Chocolates, Fudge and Cordials 

Coffee and Tea Service

  

 

"For fucks sake!  This menu is terrifying!" laughed Benedict.  "It reads like several separate meals!” 

“It’s akin to a restaurant menu,” chimed in Timothy.  “I’m full just from reading it.” 

Benedict paused and stood with his hands resting on his slender hips as he counted the number of places at the long, rectangular dining table. “I don’t recall Donna saying that there were going to be this many people here today.”  

Timothy tapped the menu. “This is enough food to feed a bloody army, and it certainly looks as if they’re expecting one to show up." 

“Well, it’s our combined families; plus the Grandparents.”

“That’s still not enough to justify all this food,” insisted Timothy.  

“Counting our families, there are still a lot of unaccounted for extra seats,” observed Benedict, ruffling his auburn curls. "Not to mention there isn't enough room to set out all this bloody food.  These table decorations take up most of the table space.  Where in the fuck are they going to put it all?"

"Surely on the buffet server behind you," said Wanda.  "Once they remove the decorations from there," she giggled. 

"Oh, it's decorations everywhere you look in this house!  I don't think they've missed a spot," laughed Benedict.

“This is utterly crackers!” exclaimed Timothy in a low voice.

"There wouldn't be any room to even add crackers," quipped Benedict. 

“All those extra chairs are there because Toni invited her brother, Angelo and her sister, Philomena along with their families at the last minute.  Her brother, Frank, is spending the day in New Jersey with his in-laws.” 

"What an odd blend of American, Italian and English dishes," observed Timothy.  "Even with a crowd expected, how in the hell do they expect us to consume all this food?  I've an appetite, but not on that scale!" 

"This is like something Henry the Eight would have served back in the day!"  Snickered Benedict. 

“What a nice surprise!  They thought to include Yorkshire pudding and many of the puddings are somewhat British!” Wanda pointed out.  “I don’t think I ever had Yorkshire pudding with turkey.  How novel.” 

“I only see two pies on the menu. They were prattling on about all sorts of pies only yesterday,” said Timothy. 

“Scarlett was helping to make some of the puddings,” said Wanda.  “I don’t know where these other puddings came from.  They must be Donna and Carly's contributions, yes?” 

_You wouldn’t believe it if I told you, Mum.  They were invented only two hours ago._

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck.  "Erm...yeah...you might say that."

“It was very sweet of them to make something to remind us of home,” continued Wanda.  “They blended our heritages, which I think is very thoughtful of them.  What a lovely new tradition, don’t you agree, Ben?” 

_Oh, Mum.  We weren’t being sweet or thoughtful, we were just attempting to save Donna’s arse,_ thought Benedict with amusement.  _It’s slap dash cuisine at its best._   “Erm…to be honest, all the credit rightfully belongs to Donna.”  

Benedict looked on as his parents exchanged knowing glances and slight smiles began to play at the corners of their mouths. 

“What really happened to the pies?” inquired Wanda with a raised eyebrow. 

“What makes you think anything happened to them, Mum?” Benedict asked feigning innocence. 

“Well, you just said the British-inspired puddings were Donna’s idea,” replied Timothy.  “And given her history and your description of the terrifying ride here, I don't hold much hope that the pies didn't suffer some terrible fate.” 

“It doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together,” finished Wanda.  “We know those were supposed to be pies in the first place.  I’m going to assume that Donna made one short stop too many and some of her pies were damaged en route.” 

Benedict nodded reluctantly and sighed.  “Correct.  She had me set them in the boot with only the fucking cargo net to hold them.  She assumed that would suffice to keep them in place during the drive over; but that wasn’t the case.  The resulting disaster was the inspiration for the desserts with a British twist.  We put our heads together so Donna could save face in front of her family and you two.  She’s mortified at being found out.” 

“We promise not to let on that we figured it out,” Timothy assured him. 

“It’s reminiscent of the time you came up with your signature pudding:  the Black Forest Trifle,” smiled Wanda.  “Donna mentioned that she asks you to make it for her all the time.” 

"How did you know about that?” asked Benedict.  

“Donna was bragging to us about what a good cook you are and how she admires your creativity in the kitchen,” replied Timothy. “She told us all about the unique pudding you had first served her.”  

“In truth, she admired my creativity at Sainsbury’s bakery and food bars,” snorted Benedict.  “The first time I invited Donna over to dinner, I ran out of time to make a proper dessert and wound up cobbling something together from things I bought at Sainsbury’s. I remember thinking that I was ever so clever to put one over on a food critic.  She only recently confessed to me that she had figured out what I had done weeks later.”  

“You’re lucky you were able to fool her for as long as you did,” quipped Timothy. 

“You’re going to have to make it for us one day, so we can sample it,” said Wanda.   “Who knows?  I might decide to add it to my repertory along with the famous stuffed Yorkshire puddings.” 

“Not a problem,” smiled Benedict.  “It’s the easiest thing in the world, except for having to scrape the icing off the bloody cake.  That takes a bit of time. I'd recommend just buying a jar of chocolate fudge sauce and heating it up.”  

“Blimey!” exclaimed Timothy.  “It just dawned on me. This menu reminds me of a cruise ship menu – only on a cruise ship you get to choose from the menu, not eat every bloody thing offered!”  

Wanda cleared her throat.  “May I remind you that you _can_ sample everything on a cruise ship menu, Tim.  Diana and I actually did do that the last time we all took a cruise together.”  

_I can see Mum and Diana ordering one of each thing, bless them._

“I’m stuffed just from reading it,” declared Benedict.  “I thought Donna was joking when she said to make sure to pace myself.  I think I’ll have had my fill once I’ve had the lasagna.”  

“Perhaps the meal is meant to be served as one of those tasting menus.  You know:  a bite of this and a taste of that, which all adds up to a proper meal,” mused Timothy. "Something like that I could handle with no problem." 

“Somehow I doubt it,” laughed Wanda.  “I’ve been privy to the preparation, so I can tell you that it will be as if we’re having two separate meals.”  

“I thought the Americans just eat turkey on Thanksgiving,” mused Timothy.  “How do all these other dishes fit in?”  

“Apparently, Antonia’s father insists on having his favourite Italian dishes before the turkey.  It’s like this on every holiday from what Donna said,” explained Benedict. “He’s a real stickler for tradition.” 

Wanda scanned the table for a place to put the menu.  “Hmmm…I don’t see any other menus on the plates.  Someone must have dropped this.”  

“Let’s go in the kitchen and say hello then,” suggested Timothy.  

As the trio neared the swinging door that led into the kitchen, they could hear muffled conversation. However, it was Serafina Mangano’s voice that caught their attention. 

_“Donna, I’m glad to hear you’ve picked December for your wedding.  I hate the hot weather in Florida!”  
_

“Did I just hear Toni’s mother ask Donna something about the wedding?” asked Timothy in a low voice. 

Benedict paused to listen. “They are discussing the wedding,” he confirmed with a frown. 

“I’ll be damned,” said Timothy. “One would have thought they would want to include you in the conversation being you’re going to be the groom.”

Benedict lips were set in a grim line, as he shook his head in disgust. "Heaven forbid they ask me my opinion!  The wankers don't give a toss as to what I think or want. The proper procedure around here is to strike when I'm _not_ about.  They fancy cornering Donna and then overwhelming her with whatever the motherfucking sales pitch of the day is." 

“Hush up!” hissed Wanda, holding out her arm to stop her husband and son.  “You don't know for sure if Donna's being wooed or not. We need to hear this!”  

“No.  _You_ need to hear this. It's not right to listen in on their conversation.  I’m going in,” insisted Timothy. 

Benedict grabbed Timothy's elbow.  “Please don’t, Dad.  Mum’s right.  I also want to hear what they have to say, and they’ll be much freer in their opinions if we’re not around.”

_Christ on a crutch!  My son is proving to be every bit as nosy as his mother, bless them both.  He's truly a credit to her._

“Keep your voices down to a whisper!  They’ll be able to hear us like we can hear them!” warned Wanda. _  
_

_“Which resort will we be staying at for your wedding?”_ asked Carmine _.  “I was hoping to talk you into trying those garden cottage accommodations over at the Boardwalk so we can have a nice little garden to sit in.”  
_

_“Knowing Donna, it will be the Animal Kingdom Lodge, Popi!”_ said Carly. _“Right, Donna?  That is your favorite resort.”_

 _Hells bells!  So, my son will be getting married in the States.  I was so hoping they would choose London,_ thought Wanda, looking up at Benedict. _It just made the most sense._

“So you and Donna _are_ getting married in the States,” sighed a clearly disappointed Wanda.  “I was so hoping you’d marry in London,” she added under her breath so Timothy wouldn’t hear her. 

“Allow me to lay your worst fears to rest, Mother.  We’ve no plans to be married in Florida,” whispered Benedict.  “There will be no Disney wedding for us.” 

“Well, it sure as hell sounds to me as if they’ve got your wedding all sorted from the way they’re prattling on about it,” Timothy retorted.  “All you have to do is show up for fucks sake!” 

_“I don’t know about anyone else, but I’m starving!”_ said Neil pleasantly. 

“Neil is definitely trying to change the subject,” observed Benedict.  “It sounds as if he’s not comfortable discussing it.” 

“And that’s as it should be as it’s none of his – or any of their concern.  Isn’t that right, Pet?”  Timothy fixed Wanda with a hard look.  

“That’s right.  It’s yours and Donna’s business to sort out,” agreed Wanda. “Bollocks!  I missed some of what they just said!”  

"Antonia's addressing her mother," said Benedict.  "Something about candles."

_“It’s too soon, Mama.  They won’t release that information until sometime next year.  Don’t worry. I’ll be right on top of it though. I can email Danny Manganero to let me know.  His office does all the coordinating and contracts with the celebrities.”  
_

“What in the fuck are they talking about?” wondered Timothy. “What celebrities?” 

“What in the hell does Danny Manganero have to do with my wedding?” snarled Benedict.  “I’m sick of hearing the wanker’s name all the bloody time!” 

“For fucks sake! If you two would just be quiet, we’ll find out!” hissed Wanda. “I just missed another portion of the conversation thanks to you two!” 

“I can’t follow what they’re talking about now,” muttered Timothy. 

“I can’t be sure, but it sounds like there is some sort of Christmas-themed dinner show with fireworks,” whispered Benedict.  “You know how these people love their motherfucking fireworks, bless them.” 

_“We can’t miss Mickey’s Very Merry Christmas Party in the Magic Kingdom,”_ added Scarlett.  _“The kids will love that!”  
_

“No, we certainly can’t miss that!” said Benedict, sarcastically mimicking Scarlett. "Fuck me."

“What in the hell does Mickey’s party have to do with your wedding, Ben?” Wanda asked. 

“I’ll be damned if I know,” sighed Benedict.  “Let me go in there and shut them all up being Donna’s obviously lost her tongue!” 

“No!” said Wanda, holding him back.  “Let’s see how it plays out.” 

“I think what your mother means is that Donna needs to speak up for herself, Ben,” added Timothy gently. “You can’t keep running to her defense every time one of her family tries to impose their ideas and wishes onto her.”  _And I really hope Wanda listened to what I just said and does the same as far as it applies to Ben._

_“It’s too soon to get tickets for that as well, but I’m sure Danny can work something out for us,”_ said Toni.  _“He is VP of Live Entertainment after all.”_

Benedict felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.  _And here we go with fucking Danny Manganero again!  
_

_And what became of Donna? Did she lose her tongue or did she go to the loo?_ thought Timothy.  _I'd be worried, too, if I were my son._ _  
_

“Ah, Danny Manganero’s purpose has just been sorted.  They want to take advantage of his position,” translated Benedict.  “It’s all about calling in favours with Antonia.” 

_“Since when did Danny become a wedding planner?”_ interjected Neil.  _“You can’t bother the man for these things, Toni.”  
_

_“And why not?  Danny’s like a member of the family!”_ insisted Toni.  _“We keep in touch with his parents.  I know Donna’s still corresponds with them as well.”  
_

_“Mom!  This is not what…”  
_

“I was wondering what became of Donna,” remarked Wanda worriedly.  “I’m glad she found her voice.” 

“Now, let’s just hope she manages not to misplace it,” added Timothy. 

“That makes three of us,” agreed Benedict.  “It sounds to me as if they’re blatantly assuming all this, and Donna must be feeling overwhelmed.  She’s not one for standing up to them as you know.” 

“Did you know Donna still keeps in touch with that man?” asked Timothy suddenly. "This Danny Manganero, who's going to be the savior of your wedding?" 

“Yeah, but their emails just contain friendly banter, gossip and shit about the goings on at Disney.” 

“How do you know?” Timothy asked with a raised eyebrow. 

“I read Donna’s emails whenever I get the opportunity,” replied a distracted Benedict, cupping his ear in order to hear better.  

His parents both fixed him with a look:  Wanda’s was of amusement, Timothy’s of thinly-veiled disgust. 

_OH SHIT!  I just admitted I was snooping in Donna’s emails. You're such a clot, Benedict!  Time to check the mouth filter._

“It’s such a comfort to hear you verify that some things never change, Barrister,” remarked Timothy, patting Benedict on the back.  _My son is now hacking into his fiancee’s emails. Like mother, like son, bless them both.  This also serves to remind me that I need to change my passwords again._

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck. “Erm…yeah...what I meant is when Donna happens to leave one of her emails up on her computer screen – in full view of course -  I take advantage and read it.” 

“Of course you do,” snickered Timothy.  “Your mother is fond of doing likewise.” 

“Shhhhhhh!” warned Wanda, glaring daggers at both of them. "I don't want to miss any of this!" 

_“Danny wouldn’t mind helping out – especially since it’s for Donna.  Besides December is a very popular month for Disney weddings.  We don’t’ want to get shut out of the choice venues!”_

_“Mom, were you already checking into availability without thinking of checking with Benedict and me first?”  
_

Benedict sighed with relief.  _Ah, there she is!  Perhaps Donna felt blindsided.  They’ve been coming at her from all angles. Should I go in and intervene?  No, I should let her sort it out for herself.  
_

“Good, she’s found her voice again,” said Wanda.

"It's about time!" added Timothy. 

“The question is:  will she manage to keep it?” sighed Benedict. 

_“Of course!  The first thing I did was begin seeing what venues were available for December third, fourth and fifth.”  
_

_“Our wedding date is December fourth, Mom.  What are all those other dates?  Do you think you can just change our date without consulting us?”_ demanded Donna. 

“Ah, that’s my girl!  Now, just tell them we’re not getting married at Disney, Donna, and be done with it!” whispered Benedict.  “Then I can sashay in and pretend I know nothing. That should end the shit-fest.” 

“Somehow I doubt it,” said Wanda sadly.  “Toni never, _ever_ , gives up from what her daughters say about her.  Emmy said she’s a right pain-in-the-arse.” 

Timothy and Benedict’s heads swiveled in her direction.  

“Emmy?” blurted out Benedict.  “How would Emmy know?” 

Timothy leaned close to Wanda and whispered in her ear.  “Commander, have you added a new recruit to our merry spy network?”  

Wanda rolled her eyes.  “Have you two forgotten that Emmy works for Donna now?  She shares the office with Carly and Donna; so she’s privy to their conversations.  Believe me, Toni is a force to be reckoned with according to Emmy.” 

_“When you chose to get married on a Saturday, didn't it occur to you that Saturdays are the most popular days? You have to be flexible with the dates,”_ said Toni.  _“You have to work with me here, Muffin.”_

_“Mom, you are a natural-born wedding planner!”_ giggled Carly.  _“You missed your calling.”  
_

“I would call her a natural-born buttinsky,” hissed Timothy.  “Does the woman _ever_ come up for air?”  _But I am enjoying that she’s coming off as the bad one and Wanda and I are in the clear…as long as Wanda manages to keep her lovely mouth shut._

“Donna needs to tell the cow off once and for all!” said Wanda, casting a worried look towards Benedict.  “She’s allowing Toni to walk all over her.” 

_“Toni, it sounds as if you’ve been wading into the pool of enthusiasm,”_ said Neil. 

“It sounds to me as if the cunt has taken a nose dive into the deep end of the fucking pool,” quipped Benedict, irritation and impatience mounting. “And Muffin doesn’t seem to have the guts to tell her to shut the fuck up.” 

_“I only made a couple of innocent inquiries,”_ retorted Toni.  _“I don’t want to see Donna get shut out of anything because we didn’t jump on things.”  
_

“Is anyone else besides me noticing the lack of mention of the groom in this discussion?” asked Timothy with annoyance. 

“I did,” replied Wanda.  “You would think this has nothing to do with what Ben wants!” 

“Wouldn't you though? Did I not tell you two before that I'm not part of this equation? As far as they’re concerned, it doesn’t have anything to do with my feelings.  It’s all about the bride’s wishes and desires,” scoffed Benedict.  “Their attitude is that they’re the ones paying, so my job is to shut up and let them sort everything out on their own.  Oh, how wrong they are!” _  
_

_“Toni, that’s for Donna and Ben to worry about.  They’ll address these issues when they’re ready to,”_ Neil reminded her gently. 

“How nice that _someone_ remembered you were involved,” spat Wanda.  

“Shhhh!” said Timothy, cupping his ear against the swinging door in order to hear better.

"Be careful, Dad!  One of them might choose to come through," cautioned Benedict, stepping back from the door.  "We need to stand away a bit."

 _“I wish you hadn’t done that, Mom!”_ exclaimed Donna angrily. 

“For fucks sake!  Why doesn’t Donna just come out and tell them already?” asked Benedict in frustration.  “I think I need to go in there and put an end to this madness.  It’ll take her all damn day to work up to it!” 

Timothy grabbed Benedict’s arm.  “No, you won’t.  Donna has to stand up for herself as you just said.  Let her be the one to tell them – even if it takes her time to gather herself together.” 

“Your father’s right, Ben.  It will only serve to make you look like you’re sticking your nose in where it doesn’t belong.”  _Not that you do as part of the normal course of things, but this is different._ "Donna needs to learn how to fight her own battles or they will forever be shoving their opinions up her arse!" 

“Bloody hell! But it’s _my_ wedding, too!  I have every right to be part of that fucking discussion! Do I not?” 

“Yes, but this is the perfect time for Donna to set some ground rules pertaining to her family,” said Timothy.  “Let her be, Ben.  Now, would be an opportune time for you to practice some patience.” 

“Hush up you two and think about what they've been saying! They’re acting as if the Disney wedding is a fait accompli.  Donna adores Disney, and they seemed to have automatically assumed that you two would be married there.  They don’t know you two decided on something different,” said Wanda.    _At least that’s how it sounds to me.  I can only hope._ “They’re excited and happy about the planning.  Donna is the one who has to set them straight that they’re going off half-cocked in the wrong direction.” 

“My fiancée seems reluctant to do so.” 

“Give Donna a bit more time,” suggested Timothy, holding tight to his son’s arm.  “I have every confidence that she’ll work up the courage to sort it out with them.”  _I hope._   _She needs to show some backbone._

_“Well, you will care that I did some of the legwork when I tell you what I found out!”_ snapped Toni _.  “There are some venues already booked that far in advance!”_

_“Oh, no!  Don’t let it be the Wedding Pavilion!”_ exclaimed Carly.  _"Donna's had her heart set on getting married there!"_

_“The Wedding Pavilion was already booked for the afternoon and early evening, so I emailed Danny, who put me in touch with his sister-in-law, Jill."  
_

_"Who in the hell is Jill?"_ demanded a frustrated Neil. 

_"She's the General Manager of the Wedding Pavilion.”_

_“Mom!  Why on earth would you bother Danny?  He has nothing to do with wedding planning?”  
_

_Bravo! Donna finally finds her voice,_ thought Benedict with disgust _.  Why doesn’t she just come out and tell them for fucks sake? My patience is seriously waning. I may have to go through and dress those cocksuckers down once and for all.  
_

_“But Jill does!  I already spoke with her, and she said she’ll be happy to act as your wedding planner.  As a matter of fact, we have the Wedding Pavilion penciled in for December fourth at noon.”  
_

“That’s bloody fucking well it!  I’m going in there and tell those motherfuckers to bugger off!” announced Benedict, shrugging away from Timothy’s grasp.  “Donna needs me to intervene now.” 

“I whole-heartedly disagree!” retorted Timothy angrily.  “That would make you guilty of interfering in something that needs to be sorted by Donna and her parents.” 

“Ben!  _Please_ heed your father," pleaded Wanda, grabbing Benedict's other arm.  "He’s giving you sage advice.” _  
_

_“Antonia!  This sounds like you’ve leaped head first into the pool of enthusiasm and hit bottom!”_ bellowed Neil, pounding his fist on the countertop. _“What in the hell did we discuss about not getting involved in the kids' wedding plans?”  
_

_“I’ll just go put the menu cards on the table,”_ said Scarlett in a meek voice.  

The swinging door to the dining room opened a few inches, causing the trio to immediately step back even further than they already had.  They could barely see Donna standing in the center of the kitchen, clenching and unclenching her fists at her sides.  Her face wore an angry expression that Benedict recognized at once. 

_“I’ll be right back,”_ said Scarlett, hand still holding the swinging door open. 

“Donna’s going to explode!  I can tell by looking at her.  All the signs are there,” whispered Benedict urgently.  “I’d better go in there before there’s a row.” 

“This isn’t the time to make a dramatic entrance,” cautioned Wanda.  “We also need to hear this!  Just stay put.” 

The swinging door opened another couple of inches, causing the trio to jump back out of sight.  Timothy looked about the room and spied a large, four-section silk screen to their left.  

“Commander, I strongly suggest we take cover or get the hell out of here,” murmured Timothy, indicating the screen with his head. 

“Shhhh!”  Wanda hissed back.  

“Shit!  How is this going to look for Scarlett to find us cowering out here?” fretted Benedict, casting a worried look towards the door as it inched open even more.  

“Like we’re eavesdropping, which to be fair, we are,” replied Timothy. 

“Hush!  Not a word from either of you or we’ll be discovered!” cautioned Wanda. “Donna’s speaking again.” 

_"It's a darn good thing you had this Jill pencil in the date, Mom,"_ said Donna. _"Because..."_

_"See, I knew Donna would appreciate my help."_

_"That's not help!"_ thundered Neil _.  "That's called first-class meddling, and I'm asking you to please stop.  Didn't we discuss this?  It's like we never had that conversation about the wedding!"_

_"Mom, you need to let me finish what I was about to say,"_ said Donna irritably. 

_"Oh, of course, Muffin; but you don't need to thank me. I wanted to do this for you."  
_

“Antonia did it all in the name of motherly love, bless her.  Famous last words,” snorted Benedict, side-eyeing his mother. 

“Isn’t it just,” agreed Timothy, also side-eyeing his wife, who studiously ignored both of them. 

_"I wasn't going to thank you, Mom,”_ Said Donna in a voice dripping with sarcasm.  _“I was going to tell you that it was a good thing you had the date penciled in so it can be easily erased.  You see, Benedict and I have no intention of getting married in the Grand Floridian Wedding Pavilion."_

The swinging door abruptly swung shut and the trio let out a communal sigh of relief.   They could hear nothing on the other side of the door as all conversation had ceased.  There was nothing but a stunned silence. 

“Well done, Love!” smiled Benedict.  “I know how hard that must have been for her to say.” 

“It’s a start at least in the right direction,” said Timothy.  “What I wouldn’t give to see their faces right now.” 

“They seem to be rendered mute,” giggled Wanda. “Which isn’t an entirely bad thing.” 

“How utterly refreshing!” laughed Timothy.  “The wankers were giving me a stonker of a headache.” 

Suddenly, Neil’s voice broke the silence. _“Scarlett, can I have those menu cards please.  I need a time out from this insanity!  I’ll put them on the table being my entire family has obviously taken a dip in my wife’s pool of enthusiasm.”  
_

Benedict felt an overwhelming panic in his chest.  “We can’t let him of all people discover us!  We would never, _ever_ hear the end of it!” 

“The screen will offer some cover!  Follow me! Quick as you can now!” commanded Timothy, rushing to stand behind the large silk screen as he dragged Wanda and Benedict along after him.  

Timothy carefully peered through the narrow space in between where the panels were hinged together as Neil came through the doorway.  He whispered to Wanda in a barely audible voice. 

“Commander, are we holding position until he's gone?"

"Yes."

"Which means we're officially eavesdropping on this conversation then?”  

“You’re damn right we are!” confirmed Wanda.  “Don’t you want to hear the rest of it?”  

“No,” spat Timothy. 

“Yes,” replied Benedict firmly as the door to the kitchen swung shut, leaving them alone in the room with Neil.  “I’m afraid you’re outnumbered this time, Dad.  My… curiosity has won out.”

 _I wonder if my son recalls the old adage about what curiosity did to the cat?_ wondered Timothy Carlton.

  

 ****************************************************************

  _  
_

Neil Saint James stomped into the dining room and regarded the table settings before him.  He was too aggravated to notice the scarce murmurings going on behind the screen as he took stock of the carefully set tablescape.  There were linen napkins made from the same material as the table cloth folded into the shape of fans and pulled through whimsical turkey-shaped napkin rings sitting in the center of each plate.   

_Hmmm…I guess I’ll just place one of these on top of the napkins and hope that was what Toni was aiming for.  If not, so be it!_   

Neil started on the side of the table where the screen was and made his way down the length, placing the menu cards in the center of each place setting.  

_I can’t believe my wife went back on her word and did everything she promised me she wasn’t going to do.  Disney Wedding Fever has certainly struck this house.  Each and every one of them just chimed in with their suggestions.  Thank God that Cumberbatch and his family were upstairs so they didn’t have to hear that.  How embarrassing that would have been to have them witness such behavior!  Donna’s upset and angry, and I don’t blame her._

Neil finished the side of the table closest to the screen and went to inspect the children’s table, which had caught his eye.  It had been covered with brown butcher paper and there were jars of crayons and washable markers interspersed with the place settings. 

_The kids are going to love this!_ _I wouldn’t mind sitting here myself.  Then I’d be spared from listening to further wedding bullshit._ _Donna had a good idea to cover the table with paper so the kids can draw if they get bored.  She’s going to make a good mother someday even if Cumberbatch is going to be the father. I suppose I really shouldn’t judge him too harshly, as I really do see him being a devoted family man.  Donna could have done much worse.  
_

 

*******************************************************

  

The Cumberbatch family stood patiently behind the gold silk screen, peering at Neil Saint James’ back through the slim spaces in between the segments.  They held their collective breath whilst they watched him methodically placing the menu cards on each place setting as he made his way down the table away from them.  When he finished with that side of the table, he paused to inspect the children’s table. 

“I wish he’d hurry,” breathed Timothy in a barely audible voice.  “I’m starting to get a foot cramp.” 

“Hush!” hissed Wanda.  “He’ll be out of here soon.”   

“Aye, Commander,” snarled Timothy.  “I shall soldier on and endure the foot cramp no matter what.” 

“I don’t hear anyone talking in the kitchen,” observed Benedict.  “Just cooking sounds.”  _Thank God, the sounds from the kitchen are masking our talking somewhat.  However, Neil seems to be lost in thought.  He’s not paying close attention._

“They must have been stunned into silence by Donna’s response,” quipped Timothy.  “I’m sure they weren’t expecting that.” 

 

************************************************

  

Neil straightened up and turned his attention back to the adults’ table. The crystal stemware sparkled and the freshly-polished silver cutlery gleamed. 

_Something’s not quite right.  What though?  Oh!  I know what’s missing!  No one thought to light the candles yet.  I think I’ll take care of that for Toni.  It’s not like they’re going to burn down that quickly.  
_

Neil turned and opened the drawer of the buffet server and removed a box of long matches.  He struck one and rounded the long table, lighting the candles. A light, waxy scent began to emanate from the tapers.   _I'm glad they didn't use those cinnamon-scented ones like they did last year.  The smell detracts from the food._

 

**************************************************

  

Wanda Ventham felt a tickle in her nose and raised her free hand to scratch it.  “Something is making my bloody nose itch,” she whispered, sniffing Benedict's neck.  “Are you wearing a new cologne, Ben?” 

“Nope. Perhaps it’s just the natural wax scent from the candles,” replied Benedict.  “Certain waxes make my nose itch as well.  You’ll get used to it in a couple of minutes.” 

“Hells bells!  I wish this itching would stop!  I feel like I’m going to sneeze.” 

“Whatever you do - don’t sneeze!!!” Timothy urgently hissed into her ear. 

“Oh God!  Try and stifle it, Mum! He’ll be sure to hear a sneeze!” warned Benedict. 

“I…I…I…I don't think I can!!  Ahhhh....ahhhh...Oooooo…Aaaaaahhh…chooo!!!” 

Wanda automatically covered her nose and mouth as she attempted to stifle the impending sneeze.  Unfortunately, by using both hands she had inadvertently dropped the menu she had been holding.  She watched it hit the floor and slide under the screen in full view of Neil Saint James at the same time something clattered loudly in the kitchen, fortunately masking the sound of her sneeze.  

Benedict let out the breath he had been holding.  He felt weak in the knees. _That was a close call!  Had Neil discovered us, I’d never hear the end of it._

“Fuck me!” Wanda whispered urgently, pointing to the floor. 

“Brilliant job, Commander,” snarled Timothy.  “Now you’ve gone and blown our cover.” 

“Shhhh!  I think I can get it without his noticing,” said Benedict, crouching down and carefully inching his hand under the screen and towards the menu in order to retrieve it.  He watched through the crack in between the screen panels so as to keep an eye on Neil’s location.   _Please, God, don't let the wanker look over in this direction!_ He silently prayed.

 

************************************************

  

_Ah, that’s much better,_ thought Neil with satisfaction as he gazed upon the finished table.  _Candles do add something to a formal table. It softens the atmosphere. I think it looks nice and cozy in here now.  Let me finish with these menus so I can go back and see if they’re all dead in there.  They should be chattering like magpies, as Pa would say. It’s very quiet…too quiet.  
_

Neil began to lay the menus on the other side of the table, which had him facing the screen.  He suddenly stopped with one of the menus in his hand mid-air as his mind replayed a portion of the conversation between Donna and Toni that had been nagging at him: 

_"It's a darn good thing you had this Jill pencil in the date, Mom. Because..."_

_"See, I knew Donna would appreciate my help."_

_"Mom, you need to let me finish what I was about to say."_

_"Oh, of course, Muffin; but you don't need to thank me. I wanted to do this for you."  
_

_"I wasn't going to thank you, Mom_.  _“I was going to tell you that it was a good thing you had the date penciled in so it can be easily erased.  You see, Benedict and I have no intention of getting married in the Grand Floridian Wedding Pavilion."  
_

_********************************************_

  

Benedict remained frozen in place when he spied Neil Saint James suddenly stop laying down the menus and stand transfixed as if suddenly lost in thought. 

_Motherfucker!  What in the hell is he doing?  I’m afraid to move.  I don’t want to attract his attention, yet I need to get my hands on that fucking menu before he sees it!_

Benedict suddenly felt his mother rest her hand on his shoulder just as Neil began to quickly finish setting out the menus.  He could see that the older man wore a bewildered expression on his face.  There was a sick feeling in the pit of Benedict’s stomach as Neil came to the last place setting and found he was empty-handed.  He scratched his head and frowned as he looked around the room.  Benedict felt the bile rise in his throat as Neil Saint James’ eyes came to rest on the fallen menu. 

 

*********************************************

  

_“You see, Benedict and I have no intention of getting married in the Grand Floridian Wedding Pavilion."  
_

Neil stood still as his mind replayed his daughter’s words once more. 

_No wonder they were all rendered speechless!  Donna doesn’t want to get married in the Grand Floridian Wedding Chapel?  Since when?  That has always been her dream ever since they opened it!  I’ve heard her express her wishes to be married in it countless times. Hmmm…Donna specifically said Benedict and I.  I bet that selfish bastard Cumberbatch talked my daughter out of it.  I knew he wouldn’t be keen on having a Disney wedding.  All he has to do is crinkle up his nose and give her that cutsey-poo crooked little grin of his; and my daughter is eating out of his hand like a love-sick puppy.  No wonder Donna was so angry and resentful.  That prick she’s going to marry is ruining her dream.  Unless they settled on another Disney venue?  I need to get back in there and get some clarification._

Neil began to quickly place the menus on the place settings until he came to the head of the table.  He found himself one short.  

_Looks like someone can’t count.  Oh, that’s alright.  I don’t need a fucking menu. I’ve known what we’d be eating for the past thirty-five years of my life.  The menus never change.  Hahaha!  
_

Neil began to head back to the kitchen and stopped. _  
_

_No, Scarlett makes the menus every year since she’s been a member of the family.  My daughter-in-law is a perfectionist.  I know there has to be a number of menus equal to the place settings. I must have dropped one.  
_

_**************************************************_

_  
_

_Brilliant!  He’s going back inside the kitchen,_ thought Benedict with relief as he felt Wanda urgently tap his shoulder.  

“He’s going back to the kitchen!” whispered Timothy with relief. 

“As you were, Ben!  Quick as you can now!” Wanda urged him. 

Benedict reached out but his long fingers couldn’t quite grasp the paper leaf.  It lay as if mocking him only centimeters away. 

“Bollocks!” he moaned.  “So close, yet so motherfucking far!  I’ll get the damn thing as soon as he’s gone through.  Then we’re getting out of here!” 

As he started to get up, Neil stopped in his tracks.  Benedict felt Wanda’s hand tap his shoulder urgently in warning. 

“Bloody hell!” breathed Benedict in frustration as Neil began to walk slowly around the table, apparently searching the floor for something.  “What in the hell is he looking for?” 

“Blimey! What do you think? He’s looking for the motherfucking menu!” whispered Timothy.   _That was so obvious and my son is going to be playing Sherlock Holmes for Christ’s sake! Barrister Ben is not on his game today._

“I’m going to give it one last try,” said Benedict, squatting down in a feeble attempt to grasp the menu before Neil Saint James spotted it. “Damn it all to hell! I can’t get it.” 

“Shit.  He’s coming this way,” whispered Wanda, as Neil gaze seemed to be  focused directly towards them. 

 

*************************************************

  

Neil circled the table but saw nothing on the floor.  The menu hadn’t been dropped around the children’s table either nor under it.  Then he bent down and looked under the adults’ table on the side facing the screen.  Neil reared up and almost banged his head when he noticed three pairs of black shoes visible between the gap underneath the tapestry screen and the floor.   There appeared to be two pair of men’s’ shoes and one woman’s along with the missing menu, which lay on the floor just outside reach of the screen.  Neil covered his mouth to keep from laughing out loud. 

_No way am I seeing this.  Neil, I believe you’ve found the Cumberbatches.  This is priceless.  They’re all hiding behind the screen so they could listen in on our conversation in the kitchen. I can’t see this being Timothy’s idea.  This has to be Wanda’s doing.  She’s the Master Snoop and the son is a chip off the old block.  
_

Neil Saint James strode purposefully over to the screen and bent down to pick up the menu.  He looked through the narrow space in between the panels of the screen and was greeted by a pair of familiar ice blue eyes. Neil stifled a laugh and stared back at the eyes.  He heard an audible gulp from behind the screen.  

“So, Ben, would you and your parents care to join us in the kitchen?  We seem to have a lot to talk about concerning the wedding – as I’m sure you’ve all have heard,” Neil snickered as he stood up and rounded the corner of the screen.  There stood a red-faced Wanda, Timothy and Benedict.  

“We were just admiring this screen,” began Wanda.  “It’s absolutely lovely…” 

“Yes, it...it...it is quite... lovely,” stammered Timothy.  “Is is not, Ben?”

Benedict nodded vigorously.  "It is.  It's very lovely.  We've been saying just how lovely it is. Yeah."

"Is it an antique?" inquired Timothy. 

“Yes, it is,” confirmed Neil. “However, we didn’t know what a treasure it was at the time we bought it.  We had it appraised and found out that it’s over three hundred years old.” 

“Imagine that,” mused Timothy. “Did you get it at an auction then?” 

“No. Toni and I bought it during our trip to China back in nineteen eighty-five and had it shipped over.  We got it for next to nothing.” 

“Apparently, the chap who sold it to you didn’t realize its value,” said Timothy. 

“True,” agreed Neil.  “Nor did we,” he added with a chuckle.  “It was a happy surprise.” 

“I wanted Ben to see it,” continued Wanda. “As he has an appreciation of these types of art.” 

“He was here for lunch on Sunday, so he saw it then – isn't that right, Ben?” Neil inquired, looking Benedict in the eye. 

_The wanker knows damn well that I had to have seen the bloody screen from where I was sat, and I’m sure he heard me remark about it to Donna.  I remember the story about their buying it at a street market in Canton.  And now I have to play along with Mum to save what little is left of our dignity._

“Erm…I didn’t actually notice it.” 

“Funny, you were sitting right across from it.  It would have been in your line of vision for the duration of the meal.” 

Benedict crinkled his nose and smiled his most engaging smile.  “Erm…yeah...well, I know this will sound very soppy, but I only have eyes for your daughter whenever she’s around. Everything else fades into the background.” 

_Oh, for fucks sake, Cumberbatch!  Certainly you can do better than that?_ Neil crossed his arms and regarded Benedict with a thoroughly bemused expression.  “You’re right. That does sound very...soppy.” 

“Her beauty is a feast for my eyes,” continued Benedict with the utmost sincerity in his deep baritone voice. 

_No, it seems he can't do better than that.  For the love of Mike!  My future son-in-law is really laying it on thick.  All that money spent on acting school wasted.  The jerk needs to shut up already._

Neil rolled his eyes.  “You can cease with the attempt at charming me, Ben. My bullshit quota is overflowing.  So, shall we go inside and see how dinner is coming along?” 

“Grandpa!  Grandpa!” shouted Charlie, dashing into the dining room.  “Can Pierre come upstairs now?  Uncle Steve said I had to ask you.” 

“Sure! As long as you keep him out of the kitchen and dining room until dinner’s served,” said Neil.  “He probably needs to be walked soon, so please bring up his leash.” 

“Okay, Grandpa!  I’ll bring up some of his Thanksgiving dog biscuits, too! He really likes the turkey-shaped ones!” said Charlie, disappearing as fast as he had come. 

“Donna’s made mention of bringing the dog back to her flat with us tonight,” said Benedict.  “She misses having him around terribly.  I think he’ll be good company for her once I’ve returned to London.” 

“Well, you’d better get acquainted with Pierre then,” said Neil.  “Let’s go into the living room where we’ll have more space to move around.” 

_It’s a little poodle for fucks sake!  How much room do we need?_   Wondered Benedict as he and his parents trailed behind Neil. _I bet he can fit inside Donna's bloody handbag._

“I’m sure Pierre’s been chomping at the bit to come upstairs so he can mooch from the table and have the kids ride him,” Neil added as an aside to the Cumberbatches.  “They do love to rough house with him.” 

Benedict blinked in surprise as they settled in the living room.  “Won’t they injure him?” 

“Heavens, no!  Pierre is a very sturdy chap!” laughed Colin Saint James as he walked in from the hallway and joined them.  “He’s very protective and tolerant of the smalls.  If Donna’s taking him home, then it’s for the best that you let him get familiar with you.” 

“That was my intention, Pa.  Sometimes dogs can get jealous when their owner acquires a new partner,” said Neil.  

“Well, I’m Donna’s life partner, so the buck stops here,” retorted Benedict.  “What breed of dog is he again? I believe Donna said he was a poodle.” 

_A poodle that’s as big as a bloody pony_ , thought Timothy.  _I saw him during a Skype call.  The kids could very well ride him._

“Pierre’s a French poodle,” replied Colin.  “Donna prefers him trimmed, but not like a show dog.” 

_I hope he’s not one of those fussy, yappy little dogs_ , thought Benedict.  “Aren’t they usually rather fussy dogs?” he asked. 

“Not Pierre,” laughed Neil.  “There’s nothing fussy about him.” 

“He’s rough and tumble,” added Colin, checking his pockets.  “Brilliant! I thought to bring up some dog biscuits with me.”  He handed two to Benedict.  “Here. You’ll be needing these.” 

“French poodles are so darling,” said Wanda.  "We saw him on Skype.  He looked a bit larger than what I'm used to." 

_Hmmm…a bit larger?  My wife didn't register his actual size at the time,_ thought Timothy with amusement. _I recall she commented that he looked like a bear.  I guess she forgot_. _I can’t wait to see her face when she encounters him in person._

“I imagine Donna walking about with him stuffed inside that bag of hers,” snickered Benedict. 

“Oh, Pierre’s no purse pet!” laughed Colin. 

Neil regarded Benedict with amusement.  _Cumberbatch thinks Pierre is a miniature poodle.  Oh, is he ever in for a surprise! Hahahah!_ “He’s a pedigree,” said Neil. “Donna’s had him since he was a pup.” 

There was a loud thumping sound emanating from the stairwell, leading to Colin’s flat.  Then came the sound of a door opening and closing. 

“What is all that noise?” inquired Wanda, looking at the doorway to the living room expectantly.  “I can feel vibrations.” 

“That would be Pierre on his way upstairs,” replied Colin. “The stairwell is on the other side of the wall where you’re sat.” 

“How in the hell can such a tiny dog make so much bloody noise?” scoffed Benedict. 

In answer to his question, the largest dog Benedict had ever laid eyes on came bounding into the room with little Charlie right behind him whooping with laughter.   Benedict had been standing when the dog ran towards him, rearing up on his hind legs and knocking him over onto the couch besides Timothy.  

“Ben!” screamed a terrified Wanda.  “Are you alright?” 

“He just wants to play, Wanda!” piped up Charlie. “He won’t hurt you.” 

“Sit, Pierre!” commanded Neil in a stern voice.  _Shit, I really enjoyed watching Pierre take Cumberbatch down like that.  He must have smelled Donna’s scent on him.  I wish Wanda would relax and stop yelling._

The dog sat down on its haunches and looked at the Cumberbatches.  Benedict noted that he was not wagging his tail.

“For fucks sake!  He just missed my bits,” grumbled Benedict, shielding his crotch defensively with his hands. “That’s not a dog, that’s a bloody pony!” _Donna never said he was that big!  
_

“Yeah, you need to be careful around Pierre,” warned Neil.  “I’ve taken a hit in the nuts myself a few times.” _  
_

“Christ!  That’s a humongous dog!” Benedict exclaimed.  “I thought poodles were small.” 

“Well, you were wrong,” smiled Neil.  “Pierre’s a Giant Poodle.” 

“Say hello to Wanda and Tim, Pierre!” encouraged Charlie.  “He won’t bite, Wanda.  Promise!”  The boy hugged the dog to demonstrate and led him over to Wanda and Timothy. 

“EEEEEEKKKKK!” screamed Wanda, cowering beside Timothy who reached out to pet the large animal.  Pierre sniffed and licked Timothy’s hand with great enthusiasm, and immediately began to sniff at Wanda’s feet all the while wagging his tail.  “He’s going to bite me!” 

“Pierre’s not going to bite you, Wanda.  He’s wagging his tail, which means he’s okay with you,” said Neil.  “He’d growl if he didn’t.” 

“Oh, he’s a splendid specimen!” Grinned Timothy, scratching behind Pierre’s ears.  “Stop hiding and pet him, Love.” 

“Hells bells! He’s so…so…big!  He didn't look that big on Skype!” 

“Charlie’s right. He won’t hurt you, Wanda!” promised Neil.  “Just relax and give him a pat on the head. You’ll have a friend for life.” 

“Sit, Pierre!” commanded Colin in a brusque tone of voice, as Wanda gave the dog a tentative pat and received a lick in return.  “See, what did I tell you? He’s gentle as a lamb. Really he is.” 

“I’ve never seen such a big poodle,” said Wanda, as she petted Pierre on the head.  “He scared the poo out of me.” 

Just then Donna came running into the room, followed by Toni, who was right behind her.  “Is everything alright?  We heard Wanda scream,” she asked breathlessly.  

“Wanda was afraid of Pierre, Aunt Donna,” replied Charlie.  “She’s not now.” 

Timothy chuckled.  “We’re used to being around much smaller dogs is all.  Pierre seems to be a real sweetheart.” 

“Oh, he is,” said Donna holding out her arms to the dog with a huge grin on her face.  “Come here, you big softie!”  Pierre barked happily and rushed his mistress, licking her face and wagging his tail. 

“Antonia!  Shall I call 911?” called out Carmine from the kitchen. 

“No, Papa.  Everything’s fine.  Pierre just startled the Cumberbatches,” she replied.  “Why don’t we go back into the kitchen?” Toni suggested to Wanda and Timothy. “We’re only going to distract Pierre.  He needs to concentrate on making friends with Benedict.  Weren’t you watching TV with Uncle Steve and your sisters, Charlie?” 

“Aye and with me as well,” confirmed Colin. “Come on, Charlie, let’s see if the Beast has found Belle in the West Wing yet.” 

Benedict found himself alone in the living room with the dog, Donna and Neil, who was watching him with seemingly great amusement.  _The motherfucker is really enjoying himself._

"Honey, are you sure you're okay?" Donna asked, looking pointedly at Benedict's crotch.

Benedict nodded.  "It was a close call, but yeah.  My bits remain amazingly intact."

"Good!  We'll be needing the fruits of your sperm factory one day in the future!" Donna had gotten down on her knees in order to lavish affection on her huge pet.  She hugged him and ruffled his fur.  “Oh, Pierre!  You look great!  Did you have a good time with Claudette?  I bet you did, you stud muffin!”  Donna giggled as the giant dog licked her face.  “What a good boy you are!  Tonight you’re coming back home with me and Benedict.  I know how much you love to ride in the car with the windows open.” 

_Fuck.  I forgot about the encore performance of Mrs. Toad’s Wild Ride back to her flat.  Perhaps I’ll take Donna up on her offer to drive. I don’t care if I don’t’ have my bloody license – I’m willing to take that risk.  What are the odds of me getting pulled over for a traffic violation?  I’ll make it my business to drive extra carefully._

Donna got to her feet and went to Benedict for a hug.  “So you’ve met Pierre?” 

“Erm…you might say that,” he laughed, kissing her lightly on the lips. "One might say I was bowled over.  We haven't been properly introduced yet." 

Benedict heard a low growl emit from the dog’s throat as he embraced her.  Pierre crouched down and looked as though he was going to attack. _OH, oh…Pierre thinks I’m going to hurt Donna._  He immediately dropped his arms from around her as the dog eyed him suspiciously.  _Oh, this must be the jealousy Neil was referring to._

“Pierre! Sit! You need to be nice to Benedict!” Donna said sternly to the dog. “He’s very protective of me, Honey.  I need to let him see that you’re to be trusted, so he’ll accept you.” 

“Jolly good.  I hope to hell that I meet with your dog’s approval then.”

"He despised one of Donna's past boyfriends.  They couldn't be in the same room, as Pierre almost took a bite out of the son of a bitch," reflected Neil.  "Which idiot was that, Muffin?"

"Jonathan Central or whatever he's calling himself these days," replied Donna with a smirk.

Neil nodded.  "That's the idiot.  Pierre's an excellent judge of character." He smiled at Benedict and winked. "Let's hope he takes to you."

_Fuck off, wanker!  I hope to hell he does, too.  Who would have thought I need to meet with Donna's dog's approval?_

Donna beckoned to Pierre, and the dog warily approached Benedict and sat on his haunches when Donna motioned for him to sit.  She squatted down to hug Pierre and pet him before standing up again.  “Okay, let him sniff you now.”  The huge dog began to tentatively sniff at Benedict and tried to shove his muzzle into his jeans pocket. 

“Pierre!  Where are your manners?  Benedict doesn’t have any treats,” Donna scolded the dog. 

“Erm…yeah.  I do actually,” said Benedict, rubbing his thigh furiously. 

Donna fixed him with a look.  “Since when do you just happen to have dog biscuits in your pocket?” 

“Pa, had a few of Pierre’s treats in his pocket and gave Ben a couple.  Offer him one now, Ben.  It’ll help to cement your friendship,” said Neil.  _The things I do for love._

Donna looked up to see that Colin had returned to the living room to see what had transpired.  She noted that he was also holding Pierre’s leash. 

“Grandpa, you always just happen to have dog treats in your pocket!” 

“And I’m so very thankful that he had them on him today,” said Benedict.  He slowly drew the dog biscuit out of his pocket and looked at Donna as the dog nuzzled his hand.  She smiled and nodded encouragingly at him to feed her dog.  

“It’s okay to feed him,” said Donna.  “You’ll find Pierre’s a lot like me.  If you give me a treat, I’m your friend forever.”

"If you're a good girl, I'll be happy to give you a treat later," Benedict snickered and winked at her.

Donna's face immediately turned red, and she put her head down.  Both Neil and Colin were openly gawking at him.  _Fuck me!  I forgot to turn on my bloody mouth filter again.  I bet I won't be getting laid tonight._

"I think we can dispense with the double entendres for today, Ben," snapped Neil.  "It is a holiday after all."

Benedict cleared his throat and opened his hand, thus allowing the dog to devour the treat.  Afterwards, he squatted down, reached out and Pierre allowed himself to be petted. The large dog licked his face and wagged his tail after Benedict gave him the second biscuit.  Donna bent over to hug Benedict and kissed him.  “See, Benedict is a good person, Pierre.”  Pierre sniffed at Benedict some more as Colin gave Benedict one last biscuit to feed the dog.  

“It’s okay for you to pet him at will now,” declared Donna.  “It’s important for Pierre to understand that I trust you and he should trust you as well.  I think it would be a good idea for you to take him for a walk before dinner.” 

Benedict nodded and straightened up.  “Alright then.  I’m sure I can manage that,” he said.  Pierre suddenly stood on his hind legs and pressed against Benedict’s chest almost knocking him over as he licked his face.  “Whoa mate!  You’re going to make me lose my balance again!”  

“See!  Pierre likes Ben!” exclaimed Charlie from the doorway.  

Colin turned to face his great-grandson.  “I thought I left you watching the telly with your Pa and sisters?”

“I got bored, Grandpa.  It's more fun watching Pierre knock Ben over!” 

“Charlie, can you please bring me Pierre’s leash?” asked Donna.  

Colin handed the leash to Charlie, who brought it over to Donna.  “Here, Aunt Donna.  Can I come, too?” 

“Not this time, Charlie.  Benedict and Pierre need time alone to bond,” explained Donna.  She handed the leash to Benedict.  “He’s all yours, Ben Honey.   I’m going to get the key to the park.  I’ll be right back.” 

“I’ll get it!” said Neil as an idea came to him. “Stay here with Ben, Muffin.” 

Donna retrieved Benedict’s coat from the hall closet and came back to watch him putting the leash on the giant dog as Colin and Charlie looked on.  

“You did that just like a pro,” praised Donna.  “I’m impressed.” 

“I have been around dogs,” said Benedict petulantly whilst shrugging into his coat and zipping it up.  “It’s not like I’m a complete stranger when it comes to taking care of one.” 

“Do you have a dog, Ben?” asked Charlie. 

“No, but many of my friends do.  My Gran Gladys had a Saint Bernard that I absolutely adored when I was a boy. She was such a lovely dog,” Benedict replied with great fondness.  “I actually miss having a pet of my own, but there's no room in my flat; and I do a lot of traveling.  It wouldn't be fair to an animal.” 

“Pierre can be your pet.” 

“Charlie’s right!  You can consider Pierre your pet now.  Well, at least  whenever we come to New York,” smiled Donna. 

“Or we could get a pet of our own to keep in London once we've sorted our living arrangements out,” suggested Benedict.  “We’d need to get a bigger place with a large garden.” 

“Hmmm…I think we need to have kids first, and then we can talk pets,” said Donna. 

"Oh, yes!  I agree we should have a baby first!"

Neil returned with the key to Grammercy Park and handed it to Benedict.  “Just don’t lose it.  It’ll cost you three hundred and fifty bucks to replace it.” 

_I love how the cocksucker wants me to understand that I’ll pay for the key, should I lose it, bless him. Of course I would, but I have no intention of losing it!  
_

“Not to worry, Neil.  I’m a responsible adult,” snapped Benedict.  “I assure you that I’ll bring both the key and dog back intact.” 

“See you later,” said Donna, kissing him on the cheek.  “Have fun.” 

Benedict regarded Donna.  “Aren’t you coming with us?” 

“Nope.  Pierre needs to trust you to take care of his needs as well as me,” she replied.  “I want you to walk him by yourself.” 

Benedict shrugged and pulled on his gloves.  “Fine then. We’ll be back in around twenty minutes or so.” 

“Wait just a minute!” said Neil Saint James with a gleam in his eye.  “You’ll be needing these as well.” 

Benedict stared at the plastic bag, small shovel and sheets of paper toweling in Neil’s outstretched hand.  “What’s this for?” He frowned. 

“Dog owners have to clean up after their pets in New York City, and Pierre is due to move his bowels,” explained Neil, trying unsuccessfully to suppress a grin.   

“For fucks sake,” mumbled Benedict as he stuffed the plastic bag and paper towels into his jacket pocket.  He paused to study the plastic shovel. “Pooper scooper,” he read aloud.  “Oh, bloody motherfucking hell!” he muttered as he left the room with Pierre straining at the leash. 

Charlie giggled and tugged onto Neil's sleeve.  "Ben's saying those naughty words again, Grandpa!"

Neil huffed and went into the hallway to call after Benedict.   "Yes, those are _very_ naughty words.  Let's hope Ben will try his best to curb not only Pierre, but his mouth."  

Benedict's response was to slam the brownstone's front door shut. 

“That wasn’t nice to set Ben up like that, Daddy!” exclaimed Donna angrily.  “You could have warned me that Pierre was due to take a crap.  I never would have suggested Benedict walk him in that case. You did that on purpose!” 

“I don’t know for sure that Pierre has to move his bowels, but just in case I wanted Cumberbatch to be prepared,” smiled Neil Saint James.

"There was nothing wrong with that was there, Pa?"

Colin tried his best not to laugh.  "No.  Nothing wrong with being prepared, Son."

"What if Pierre does one of those big, messy poops, Grandpa?" asked Charlie.

Colin began to titter.  "I'm sure Ben will do his best to clean up after him.  It's easier than cleaning up and putting a nappy on a babe if you ask me."

“Did you see his face when I handed over the pooper scooper?” grinned Neil.  

“Yes, and he looked mortified,” replied Donna with a giggle. “Poor Benedict!” 

“What I wouldn’t give to be there to witness Cumberbatch cleaning up after Pierre, should he need to.  He can make quite a sizeable mess, as Charlie just pointed out," laughed Neil. "I’d pay good money to have photos of that.” 

“Yeah, I bet you would, but you’re going to have to use your imagination this time, Daddy.” 

“Oh, I will, Muffin.  I have a very fertile imagination, as you well know,” Snickered Neil Saint James.  “The visual of that just brings a smile to my face.  Now, let’s go see about our Thanksgiving dinner.  The rest of the clan should be here any minute.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. The bit about the Giant poodle is drawn from my own real-life experience upon meeting a friend's dog. I was in her living room and heard this loud thumping on the stairs when she called to her dog, whose name was Pierre. I was expecting a cute little poodle and instead came face-to-face with a huge poodle that knocked me over. LOL I had no idea that poodles came in large sizes, so I thought I'd poke some fun at myself.
> 
> 2\. Dog owners do have to clean up after their pets here.
> 
> 3\. I wanted Benedict to be very torn about going into the kitchen to support Donna and decided to keep him in the dining room. He was supposed to barge into the kitchen. 
> 
> 4\. The Thanksgiving Menu is based on my mother's family's Italian-American Thanksgivings. My grandfather always wanted his lasagna before the turkey, and everyone would be so full that the turkey was barely touched every year. 
> 
> 5\. Wanda did see the dog on Skype in a current chapter, but I wanted to have some fun with her, so she doesn't compute what the actual size of the dog would be in person.
> 
> 6\. In reality Neil would have heard the Cumberbatches behind the screen, but I wanted to do this scene for comic effect.
> 
> 7\. Happy Birthday to Timothy Carlton, whose birthday is October 4th!


	142. Chapter 142

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 4 of Thanksgiving with the Cumberbatches and Saint James Families. Donna breaks the news that she and Benedict will be getting married in London. 
> 
> Note: I’ll be using ********* to indicate things happening at the same time

 

Benedict Cumberbatch had been dozing peacefully when the cheering woke him, causing him to jerk up his sagging head.  He rubbed his sore neck in order to ease the ache and tried in vain to stifle a yawn.  Instead Benedict succumbed to the yawn and stretched out his long legs, which felt stiff from sitting in one position for so long. 

_For fucks sake!  I can't believe this game is still on!  Something exciting must have happened to whichever team they favour.  I hope no one noticed I had fallen asleep._

The conversation about the wedding after Donna's proclamation came to an abrupt halt as soon as Pierre had made his entrance and Wanda had screamed.  Once he had returned from walking the dog, Benedict had taken Donna aside with the express purpose of asking her what was going on.  As he had began to inquire as to whether he had missed part of the conversation, the doorbell rang, heralding the arrival of the rest of Antonia's family. At that point, Serafina announced that dinner was ready and there was no further talk about the wedding except for that it was in the planning stages. 

After dinner most of the guests had crowded into the study, and Benedict and Timothy had been invited to join in.  Benedict had settled next to his father on the comfortable sectional couch to view the Oakland Raiders vs the Dallas Cowboys on Neil’s huge flat screen TV. Everyone else was seated either on the couch, in the armchairs, perched on Neil's desk or sitting on the floor with pillows.  Steven had done his best to educate Benedict and Timothy in the rules of the game; but Benedict soon found that he was growing restless and bored.  Timothy had also fallen asleep from ingesting the heavy meal; his head coming to rest on his son’s shoulder.  Finally, Benedict took it upon himself to nudge Timothy awake.

“What…is it time to go up yet or is the next course ready?” asked a bleary-eyed Timothy.  “How long have I been having a kip?"

"About an hour now."

Timothy glanced about the room red-faced. "Christ! How embarrassing!"

"No one's noticed, so rest easy, Dad," whispered Benedict with a smile as he patted the older man's arm. 

"Carmine's wine knocked me out!" chuckled Timothy.  "That's one potent libation he concocts!  I’d fancy bringing back a bottle or two with me to London.”

“I'm sure it can be arranged. I caught myself dozing a couple of times as well. I’m frankly bored to tears and wondered if you’d care to high tail it out of here,” whispered Benedict.  “I’d fancy a cup of tea and thought you’d like to join me.  It might revive us.”

“That’s a brilliant idea.  A little jolt of caffeine seems to be in order, but won’t we be missed?”

“I seriously doubt it.  Exciting things must be happening if I’m to gauge by their cheering.  Has anyone besides Steven spoken to you since we got settled in here?”

“No, and he’s since moved closer to the screen I’ve noticed.”

“I rest my case then.”

“One day you’ll make a fine replacement for the Commander when she retires.”

“As soon as something else exciting happens, we’ll make our getaway.”

“I wait patiently for your signal, Barrister.”

Luckily the pair didn't have long to wait.  Benedict and Timothy snuck out of the room whilst everyone had jumped up and erupted into loud cheers as the favoured team made a touchdown.

“Well done, Ben!” laughed Timothy once they were out in the hallway.  “Now, shall we have our cuppa upstairs in peace and quiet?  I've got an induction kettle and a respectable selection of tea.”

“Sounds good to me,” replied Benedict, stifling a yawn.  "All that food has made me sleepy."

“If you fancy a short lie down, there are two beds.  Your mother won’t mind.”

Benedict yawned.  "I might just take you up on that."

As they paused at the doorway leading into the kitchen, the men could see it was a beehive of activity as Serafina and Toni were bustling about wrapping the leftovers from dinner.

“I didn’t understand the purpose of having a second main.  Why would they go to all the trouble of roasting a turkey and making all the sides?” whispered Timothy.  “They barely made a dent in it.  Toni and Neil can easily eat on those leftovers for a week.”

Benedict laughed.  “I know.  Donna says it’s a tradition – albeit a wacky one in my book.”

“Everyone filled up on the Italian courses, so there was no room by the time they got to the turkey.”

"From what I gather, the idea is to appease Carmine and to have leftovers.  They fancy having leftovers."

"Well they certainly have plenty to go around," laughed Timothy.

The swinging door to the dining room had been propped open, and they could see through. Donna, Carly and Wanda were occupied with laying the long table with more food. 

“Ah, the next course awaits us,” sighed Benedict.  "Looks like fruit and nuts."

“I’m still full,” said Timothy, patting his stomach. “The thought of more food makes me queasy that.”

“I have to mind how much I eat because I have to fit into those motherfucking tight suits and shirts for _Sherlock,_ ” remarked Benedict with irritation.  “They’re tailored to fit like a second skin, and Sue Vertue warned me to be careful not to gain any weight over the holidays."

“That’ll keep you from over indulging,” laughed Timothy. "It means more of your mother's Christmas pudding and banoffee pie for me this year!"

"Stop rubbing it in!"

"I have every confidence in you that you'll keep to the same weight.  You didn't overeat just now."

"It's been a right challenge ever since I arrived.  I've been surrounded by calorie-laden treats, and you know what a tart I am for sweets.  I've been minding the scale every morning, and so far I've gained five pounds - according to Donna's scale.”

“I'm sure you'll lose it once you get back home and resume your running and swimming.  You've been blessed with the Cumberbatch metabolism.  We can eat pretty much whatever we choose and not gain a lot of weight."

"Remember when I was having those growth spurts?  I felt like I couldn't get enough to eat!"

Timothy nodded.  "You were perpetually hungry, and the headmaster was concerned that we weren't feeding you enough." 

"I find that smoking was a way of curbing my appetite and prevented me from over-eating.  Now that I don't, it's been more difficult when surrounded by all these tasty temptations."

"I never noticed that when I used to smoke."

"Well, just ask Donna.  She'll be only too happy to tell you how smoking dulls the taste buds."

"Do they now?"

"Yeah.  I think there's something to it, as I find that I enjoy food more since I've been quit."

"Hmmm…I suppose I could go for a bit of the dried fruits.  I see chocolates as well.  When do you think they’ll find the time to partake of this?”

“I guess they’ll all dash in there in between quarters, stuff their faces and dash back to the study.  I can scarcely contain myself," snickered Benedict.

"What became of half time?"

"You slept through it.  They used the time to visit the loo and replenish their beer and snacks.  Heaven forbid they miss a kickoff or whatever it is they call it. I’ve never seen people so obsessed with a bloody sporting event.”

“May I remind you that we get rather passionate about Wimbledon…and football…and rugby,” said Timothy. 

“Right you are, Dad.  Who am I to judge?  I do know one thing, Mum would never _ever_ allow us to interrupt dinner in order to watch a game.”

“That's for certain,” agreed Timothy.  “She’d have our bloody heads and rightfully so.  It’s frightfully rude to schedule a meal around a TV programme.”

“Let’s head upstairs before we’re spotted,” suggested Benedict. 

 

************************************************  

Neil Saint James glanced at his wristwatch.  _This game still has one quarter to go, and I don’t give a damn who wins!   This has been a crap game so far as far as I’m concerned.  No wonder Cumberbatch and his father have been taking turns nodding off.  Perhaps I should invite them for a walk in the park.  We can use Pierre as an excuse to get some fresh air._

Neil looked across the room at the couch and smiled to himself upon seeing that Benedict and Timothy were no longer there.

_Well, how about that?  They’ve managed to make an exit without anyone noticing – anyone but me that is.  Hahaha!   I think I’ll follow suit.  This would also be a good time to ask Donna about not wanting the wedding chapel.  I need to know if that was her idea or if Cumberbatch talked her out of it.  
_

 

*****************************************************

 

Serafina Mangano looked up from the mashed potatoes she had been spooning into a plastic container and saw Benedict and Timothy peeking in from the hallway.

“You can come in.  We won’t bite,” she said with a smile.  “Those games bore me too.”

“We were going to go upstairs for a bit to relax and have a cup of tea,” explained Timothy.

“Why go all the way upstairs when we have plenty of tea down here?” asked Serafina, indicating the kitchen table.  “Have a seat.”

"Yes, please make your selves at home," chimed in Toni.  "You can keep us company."

Benedict and Timothy exchanged looks. 

“We don’t want to be a bother,” said Benedict.  _I see a cup of tea-flavoured hot water in my future should we remain down here.  It’s a pity Colin’s watching the game with the others.  
_

“I can see that you’re busy,” added Timothy.  “We don’t wish to get underfoot.”  _They have plenty of that rubbish tea down here._ _I’ve got the decent stuff upstairs.  Where in the hell is Colin when you need him? The old boy would take over and spare us having to drink one of their bloody awful brews._

"You're not a bother at all," insisted Serafina.

“I could go for a cup of tea myself,” said Toni.  “The reservoir should be refilled by now.”

“Reservoir?” asked Timothy, scratching his head in bewilderment.

Toni tapped a spigot on her sink top. “I’ve got a special tap, which dispenses hot water for instant coffee or tea.”

_Blimey!  I was wondering what that thing was for,_ thought Timothy.

“Donna has that feature in her kitchen as well,” said Benedict.

“Isn’t it a wonderful convenience?” asked Serafina.

“Not really,” replied Benedict.  “The water doesn’t get hot enough to brew tea properly. It's paramount that the water come to a rolling boil or the tea doesn’t taste right.”

_Jesus, he’s a real pain-in-the-ass about his tea,_ thought Toni.  _Donna did warn us though._

“Okay.  I’ve got a tea kettle,” said Toni, opening one of the lower cabinets to get out her stainless steel tea kettle.  “How about you, Mama?  Can I interest you in a cup of tea?”

Serafina nodded and whispered to her daughter.  “Make sure to use some of that fancy tea in the tin Colin bought.  Donna said they don’t like our tea, and we should let them make their own because they’re very fussy about how it’s made.  You see how he was about the hot water tap.”

Toni giggled.  “Good idea, Mama.  Donna gave me the same warnings on Sunday, and I had been making them Lipton all week.  No wonder they asked for coffee after the first two days.”

 

****************************************************

 

Donna, Wanda and Carly finished setting the table with the fruit and nut course and surveyed their display.

“Looks good enough to eat, doesn’t it?”  Quipped Carly.

“Sure does,” replied Donna. "I love making little sandwiches of the dried figs and almonds."

“This fudge is delectable.  It's so creamy,” said Wanda, looking sheepish as she licked her fingers.  “I couldn’t resist having a little taste.”

“That’s alright, Wanda.  I’ve been treating myself to little tastes all day,” laughed Donna. “My Aunt Lucy makes the best fudge.”

“Tim and Ben barely ate anything.  Didn’t they enjoy the food?” asked Carly.

“Compared to us, they didn’t eat much,” remarked Donna.

“The Mangano side of the family has pretty hearty appetites,” declared Carly. “I don’t know where Uncle Angelo and his sons put it.”

“Oh, I think I more than ate my share,” laughed Wanda.

“Benedict’s afraid that if he over-indulges and gains weight, he won’t fit into his costumes for _Sherlock,_ ” explained Donna.  “It’s a tough time of year to have to watch what you eat.”

“Ben did mention that,” said Wanda.  “He said the shirts are practically straining at the buttons.”

"I feel sorry for him.  This is a bad time of year to have to be on a diet," said Carly.

"Any time of the year is a bad time to have to be on a diet," quipped Wanda, taking another taste of the fudge.  "Mmmm...this one tastes like pumpkin."

"Aunt Lucy always makes pumpkin fudge and chocolate walnut fudge every year," said Donna.

“Speaking of Ben, did I just hear his voice?” inquired Carly, turning to look behind her.  "It sounds like they're in the kitchen."

Donna and Wanda paused to listen and nodded in agreement.

"I hear Tim's voice as well," confirmed Wanda.

"They must have gotten bored with watching football,” said Donna.  “Not that I blame them.  The good game is on later.”

 

****************************************************

 

Toni filled the kettle with cold tap water and set it on the gas stove to come to a boil.   “Pa bought us some loose-leaf Earl Grey tea or we have Lipton regular and decaf.”

“Why don’t you allow me to brew the tea?” offered Benedict with his most charming smile.  “That way you can continue with wrapping up your leftovers.”  _And Dad and I will be guaranteed a properly brewed cuppa._ He crinkled his nose at her and gave her another dimpled smile.

“I’m going to take you up on that offer,” said Toni.  “The tea is on the lower shelf of the second cabinet on the right, and you’ll find my teapot in the glass fronted cabinet.”

“I’ll warm the teapot,” volunteered Timothy.  “It keeps the tea hot longer.”

“Hey!  I thought I heard you two!” said Donna, entering the kitchen with Carly and Wanda in tow.

“Ben’s going to make us some tea,” explained Serafina. 

“Great!  Benedict and Tim make the best tea, Nona,” beamed Donna. 

“You are too kind, Donna,” Smiled Timothy with a blush creeping into his cheeks.

“I wish we had some Lapsang Souchong,” said Donna.  “Then Tim could make us a pot of his famous Tim’s Brew, which just happens to be my all-time favorite tea blend.”  She winked at the older man.

Timothy ran his hand through his thick silver hair and blushed at the compliment.  “Thank you, Donna.  You’re a dear to say that.  Lucky for you, I just happen to have some upstairs.  It’s in sachets though.”

“We bought a box yesterday at Harney and Sons in Soho,” explained Wanda.  “Tim is known for his special blend of tea in our house.  It’s two parts Earl Grey and one part Lapsang Souchong.  It’s become a family favourite.”

“I’d love to try it,” said Toni.

“Sure, why not?” added Serafina, a bit hesitantly.

“Brilliant!  You’re in for a treat then. I’ll go upstairs and fetch them,” offered Benedict.  “We can open the sachets and combine the two.”

“If you don’t need me, I’d like to watch the game – what ever is left of it,” said Carly.  “I can hear them yelling all the way in here, so something exciting must be going on.”

“Just the usual,” replied Neil as he entered the kitchen.  “They’re in the last quarter.  The Cowboys are winning by a landslide.”

“Go ahead, Sweet Potato,” urged Toni. “We’re just about done.”

Donna got down mugs for the tea and filled them with hot water as Benedict had taught her.  Then she warmed some milk.

_Hmmm…now would be the perfect time to bring up the wedding; but the damn Cumberbatches would have to be hanging out in here,_ thought Neil _.  If only they would all go upstairs or back in the study.  I suppose it will have to wait until the jerk goes back to London, and I’ll invite Donna to lunch one day without Toni so we can have some father-daughter time.  
_

“Am I intruding?” asked Toni’s brother, Angelo, who was right behind Neil.  “I’ve been sent to get a refill on the pretzels.”  He held out an empty bowl.

Neil took the bowl from his brother-in-law.  “I’ve got it, Angelo.”

Angelo regarded his niece.  “So, Donna, I heard you’re not getting married in the Grand Floridian Wedding Chapel.  That was quite a shock.”

Donna turned from filling the mugs and saw that all eyes in the room were upon her. 

_Leave it to Angelo to bring up the wedding,_ thought Neil.  _Hopefully, I’ll be able to learn something from this conversation. My daughter looks like she wants to bolt._

“Can you believe it?” exclaimed Toni indignantly.  “I was in shock when she told us.”

“It’s the only place Donna’s ever talked about getting married in,” chimed in Serafina.  “Do you think Cinderella’s Coach can be sent to other places?  I’ve only ever seen it at the Grand Floridian.”

_I very much doubt it can be sent to London_ , thought Wanda with amusement.

_Now would be an excellent time for the Commander to sit back and see what happens,_ thought Timothy, taking a seat beside his wife and patting her knee.  _I’d better stay close in case the Wanda Express decides to take an unscheduled trip to Wedding Town.  
_

“Cinderella’s Coach?” asked Benedict, blinking.  _What fresh hell is this?_

“Carly had a replica of the coach Cinderella rode in pick her up and take her to the wedding chapel,” replied Angelo.  “It came with a driver and two footmen all decked out just like in the movie.”

“It was pulled by four white horses,” added Toni.  “Carly and Neil rode in it together to the wedding pavilion.  I’ll be sure to show you the video after everyone’s gone home.”

“Oh, there’s no need.  I believe you,” protested Benedict weakly.

“And a trumpeter heralded their arrival,” said Angelo. 

“Our Ben played the trumpet,” interjected Wanda proudly.

“Well that skill will come in handy then. Your son can herald his own arrival at the wedding venue,” snickered Neil.  “Because he’ll undoubtedly be late.”

Wanda started to reply when she felt her husband elbow her.  “Don’t answer the wanker,” he warned under his breath.   “We’ll be the good ones.”

“Please don’t, Dad,” said Donna.

"I assure you that I will _not_ be late to my own wedding!" snarled Benedict.

Neil's hazel eyes lit up. "Care to make a little wager?"

Donna made eyes at Benedict not to respond to her father's taunt, when her grandmother interrupted, to her relief.

“Tell them what you found out about the suite, Toni!” urged Serafina excitedly.

“What suite?” inquired Benedict with a frown. 

“The Cinderella Suite!” replied Toni.

“What’s the Cinderella Suite?” asked Benedict.  _Do I really want to know?  Yes, of course I do!_

“The Cinderella Suite was originally an apartment built for the Disney Family to stay in, but was never finished,” replied Donna.  “It’s in Cinderella’s Castle in the Magic Kingdom.  They finished it a couple of years ago and turned it into a hotel room.”

“It’s not an ordinary hotel room by any means,” added Toni.

Angelo chortled.  “That’s right.  Once you’re inside for the night.  That’s it.”

Benedict blinked.  “What do you mean?”

“I’ve stayed there with my family.  We actually won an overnight stay during a promo in the parks.  They gave us dinner in Cinderella’s Royal Table, which is the restaurant in the castle; followed by VIP fireworks viewing…”

_Ah, the bloody fireworks once again,_ thought Benedict. 

“…then after the park closes, we were allowed the use of Fantasyland for two hours.  Then we were brought to the suite.  There was a concierge on call for the night, but we weren’t allowed to leave the suite to go wandering around on our own.”

"Ah, I see.  You were held captive by Mickey Mouse," snickered Benedict. 

Angelo chortled.  "You might say that, Ben!  I kept thinking it would be fun to go outside and walk around the empty park; but no. We had to stay put until the morning."

“Oh, it’s breathtaking inside!” gushed Serafina.  “Show him the pictures, Angelo.  They’re on your phone.”

“I transferred them to my online album, Mama.  There are plenty of photos online, should Ben wish to view them.”

_The last thing Ben wants is to view them,_ thought Benedict.  _No fucking way would they ever convince me to stay there!  I can't even fathom spending my wedding night in a hotel room inside an amusement park._

“That’s right,” confirmed Donna.  “There are photos online – it's such a beautiful room.  It has a fireplace and a view over the Magic Kingdom.”

“I bet it’s pricey,” commented Timothy.

“Oh, not just anyone can stay there, Tim,” clarified Donna. “It's used only for Disney promotional and charity activities and the occasional celebrity.”

“It really does sound lovely,” Wanda whispered to Timothy.

"Doesn't it just?" agreed Timothy.  "Our Ben looks like he's swallowed a lemon," he whispered.  "He clearly doesn't fancy the idea."

"It's too bad they won't allow resort guests to book it," said Angelo.  "It's truly special.

"I agree with you, Uncle Angelo," said Donna.  "What I wouldn't give to spend a night there one day!"

“But we know someone who can make the magic happen for you!” declared Serafina with a huge grin.  “Someone who can let you stay in the suite the night before the wedding and for your wedding night.”

“Hmmm…I wonder who that someone might be?” asked Benedict sarcastically, whilst stroking his chin.   _And I'm sure his last name begins with an M._

“Why Danny Manganero, of course!” replied Serafina.

_But of course!_ thought Benedict.  _Who else could make Donna's fondest Disney dreams come true but that wanker._

“Imagine that.  That was the very name on the tip of my tongue,” mused Benedict, voice dripping with sarcasm.  “Mr. Disney can make all our dreams come true.  Does he happen to have any pull with the geezers who vote for the Academy Awards?”

Benedict caught Angelo start to open his mouth through the corner of his eye and shut it when Antonia glared daggers at him.  _Hmmm…seems Angelo does have pull.  How interesting._

“I don’t see why the Oscars should concern _you_ ,” guffawed Neil.  “You haven’t done anything Oscar-worthy that I’ve seen.”

“Dad!  Please stop baiting, Benedict!” snarled Donna.

“Maybe when he stops baiting _us_ ,” retorted Neil.  _Oh, but baiting Cumberbatch is so much fun.  He’s clenching his jaw again._

“There’s no need for sarcasm, Benedict,” snapped Toni.  “Staying in the Cinderella Suite has been a dream of Donna’s ever since it was built.”

Wanda’s eyes flashed angrily as she started to open her mouth; however she stopped when Timothy placed a hand on her forearm.  “Let it be, Mama Bear.  Your cub is perfectly capable of defending himself,” he said in a low voice.  "We're the good ones, remember?"

"Hells bells! I had no idea being the good ones was going to be so damn hard!" sighed Wanda in frustration.

“Who in the hell would want to stay in the middle of a bloody theme park in a room that you can’t even leave?” demanded Benedict, looking at everyone in the room.  

The Saint James Family regarded Benedict as if he had grown two heads. Even Donna looked at him with disbelief.

_And as soon as I said that, I knew the answer.  Just look at the group I’m addressing.  The Disneyphile Family.  Of course they’d all bloody well want to stay there, my fiancée included, bless them!  I’m such a dolt.  
_

“Think what a lovely setting the suite will be for taking photos of you getting dressed, Muffin!” said Toni.  “Nona, Carly and I can sleep there with you the night before the wedding.  The suite has two queen sized beds.”

Benedict cast a glance at Donna and raised an eyebrow at her.  “So we’re to be separated the night before we marry?”

“Of course!  Everyone knows that it’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding!” insisted Serafina. 

“What about Scarlett and the girls?  Melanie and Melissa are going to be your flower girls, Donna; so you might want them to stay in the suite along with Scarlett. That way they’ll already be inside the castle so all Scarlett has to do is take them downstairs to their appointment at the Bippity Boppity Boutique,” Said Toni.  "I'm sure they'll let Nona, Carly and me in before the park opens.  I can make a breakfast reservation at either Cinderella's Royal Table or the Crystal Palace."

“Excuse me. The bippity what?” asked Benedict, clearly amused.

“The Bippity Boppity Boutique," replied Donna. "It's a beauty salon inside the castle where little girls can go to be made over into princesses."

"The morning of the wedding, Scarlett will take the girls down there and the Fairy Godmothers in training will give them a makeover for the wedding,” added Serafina, clearly warming to the topic. "They do such a cute job, and the kids love it!"

_For fucks sake!  This just keeps getting more and more insane the more they prattle on about the wedding.  Donna needs to shut them the fuck up and tell them there isn't going to be a Disney wedding.  However, I find that there is a part of me that is fascinated by all these crazy plans.  As much as I don’t want to miss anything, I’d better get the tea._

“Bippity Boppity Bollocks!”  smirked Benedict with a dismissive wave of his hand.  “Next you’ll be telling me we can get married on one of the bloody rides.”

“Oh, we can definitely do that if you’re interested!" exclaimed Toni. "I’ve seen them shut down the Great Movie Ride in the MGM Studios.  They remove the ride vehicles and put tables on the tableaus.  You start the reception in Hollywood and make your way through the entire ride for each course and wind up having the wedding cake in the Wizard of Oz scene.  Then they have dancing in that big open space where they show all the clips from the most popular films.”

“Christ on a crutch,” breathed Timothy.  “I can’t even imagine.”

“There are photographs online of a wedding someone had in there,” said Toni.  “It’s such a unique venue, I’m surprised none of us thought of it before.  If you’d like me to ask Danny about it, Benedict, I’d be happy to do so.”

“The whole idea is utterly ridiculous!” scoffed Benedict.  “I was just taking the piss, Antonia.  The idea of getting married on a theme park ride is preposterous to me.  I’m going upstairs to get the tea.”

“Why don’t you go up and collect the motherfucking tea?  I think Ben needs to stay down here,” Wanda whispered to Timothy.

“I need to stay down here and make sure you don’t get carried away.”

Wanda sniffed indignantly.  “I promised you that I wouldn’t interfere.  I’ll just sit here and listen to them dig their collective hole deeper and deeper.”

Timothy motioned for Benedict to stay put and left the room quickly. 

“I’m sure the coach can be hired to go to almost any venue on property,” said Toni.

"Money talks," Angelo pointed out.  "They'll make anything happen for a price.  Poor Neil!  This wedding is going to put a serious dent in your bank account," he added teasingly.  

“The money has been set aside, Angelo.  We promised both our daughters they could have whatever kind of wedding they wanted. Donna, I’ll look into reserving the coach with Jill first thing tomorrow,” said Toni. "By the way, do you want Gus and Jacques, too?"

"Who in bloody hell are Gus and Jacques?" blurted out Benedict.

"Cinderella's mice friends," replied Toni in a condescending tone.

"Who is Jill?" demanded Benedict.  _I should know this, but I forgot...I think._

"She's the General Manager of Disney's Wedding Pavillion.  She's agreed to act as your wedding planner."

“Please don’t do that, Mom!” said Donna finally.  “I told you that I don’t need or want a wedding planner!  And I don't need or want Cinderella's coach with or without the footmen and the mice!”

“Why not?  How will you get from the castle to the wedding venue?  I’m sure you can be picked up at the Hub and ride down Main Street to the park exit.”

"What about the trolley that does up and down Main Street USA?  That would be different!" suggested Angelo.

"Won't that be a fine show for the park visitors that day!" interjected Serafina.  "To see a Fairytale Wedding come true!"

“Then what happens once you leave the Magic Kingdom?  There’s the Seven Seas Lagoon to cross,” said Angelo.

“One could take a boat, I suppose,” quipped Benedict.

“Benedict!” hissed Donna, moving to stand beside him.  “Stop trying to incite something.”

“Great idea, Benjamin!” said Serafina.  “We can take the Ferry over to the Transportation and Ticket Center.”

"It's _Benedict_ ," said Donna, Benedict and Wanda together.

“The monorail would be more efficient, Mama,” countered Angelo. "Don't you agree, Toni?"

“Yes. I do.  I'm sure Danny or Jill could arrange for them to set aside a separate car for us."

"Why not the whole motherfucking train then?" retorted Benedict.

"Oh!  That's an even better idea!" exclaimed Serafina.  "Then everyone can hop on and ride in the monorail to the Transportation and Ticket center."

"You can call it the Wedding Train," laughed Angelo.

"We'll need to book the block of guest rooms at one of the monorail resorts," said Toni.

"Mom..." began Donna.

"Don’t worry, Muffin,” said Toni.  “We’ll work it out.  I know how much you love the coach and you’re going to need a wedding planner. Jill's very sweet.  I'm sure you two will get along famously.”

_Did I not just tell my mother that I don't need or want those things?  Does she not listen?  No, none of them are listening, except for Daddy.  He's been just sitting there and observing...like Wanda has been. I wish Ben would stop making the sarcastic comments and take a lesson from his mother.  I never took for Wanda for the type to just sit there and not give her two cents.  Unless Timothy  gave her a lecture on the importance of keeping one's mouth shut.  If so, I truly grow to love that man more and more!  
_

“You know, Toni.  The more I think about this, I find myself agreeing with Donna.  She doesn’t need a wedding planner,” interjected Serafina.  “She’s got all of us to help her. That's what families are for.”

“Aren’t you the lucky one, Darling?” Benedict said under his breath, as he patted her on the back.  “You’re truly blessed to have soooo much help.  I think I'm beginning to feel a bit envious.”

“Shut up, Ben!” hissed Donna through gritted teeth.  “Mom, Nona, there’s really no need for any of this.  Benedict and I…”

“Mama, I beg to differ,” Toni said to Serafina. “With Donna living in London, she’s going to need someone at Disney to help.  I’ve got a full time job and can only do so much from here.”

_I would have thought she'd take the time off,_ _so she can devote herself to full-time wedding planning,_ thought Benedict.  _I'm so thankful for the Atlantic Ocean.  I'd kill the twat if we lived in New York._

_That's it!_ Thought Donna angrily _. I've had it with all this frigging planning on my behalf.  Benedict's right.  I need to stop acting like a coward and tell them once and for all before this goes any further!_

Benedict jumped as Donna put two fingers inside her mouth and whistled loudly.  All talking ceased as all eyes turned to her. 

“How elegant that was, Sweetheart.  Well done,” He snickered.

“We won’t be needing the coach or the Cinderella Suite or any of it where we’ve decided to get married,” Donna blurted out.

“Oh, did you decide on one of the hotel ballrooms?” inquired Toni.  “I guess…”

Donna cut Toni off before she could finish her sentence. “No, Mom.  Benedict and I have decided on a traditional church wedding.”

There was silence, as Donna's family all exchanged anxious and quizzical looks.

Wanda looked inquisitively at Benedict, who smiled back at her and nodded that it was true.  _That’s my Ben!  I knew he’d do the sensible thing, bless him!  I’ll call the vicar on Skype first thing tomorrow morning to reserve the date!  I believe he said December fourth.  I think a morning wedding is best.  I'll ask for ten o'clock then._

“Oh, Saint Mary Queen of the Universe is a gorgeous church!” exclaimed Angelo.  “You certainly can’t go wrong there, Donna.”

“Is that the huge church we’ve gone to Easter Sunday mass at?” asked Serafina excitedly.  “The one near the Premium Outlets right off  I-4?”

Angelo nodded. “That’s the one, Mama.”

“We saw a wedding there one time,” said Neil.  “The decorations were magnificent.”  There's nothing wrong with a church wedding.  _Cumberbatch has proven many times over that when it comes to these things, he's a traditionalist.  How I'd love to walk Donna down that aisle._

“You can make a spectacular entrance, Donna,” said Angelo. “What a great choice!  Lucy and the kids will be thrilled to hear about this."

_I need to be more specific and tell them that there’s not going to be a Disney wedding period, instead of cowering here and waiting for Benedict to come to the rescue,_ thought Donna.  _He’s clearly staying out of this.  I know he thinks I need to take care of this myself.  I need to stop letting them walk all over me – no matter how well meaning they are.  And I need to be the one to say it.  If Benedict tells them, they’ll think he talked me out of it and blame him._

“Uncle Angelo…”  Began Donna.

“My God!  That’s going to be a game changer!” cried Toni, clearly rattled.  “I’ll have to see if Jill can find a way to get the coach there…even if it just has to come from the parking lot.  Well, at least we've got a year to straighten everything out.  Don't worry, Muffin. We'll get you that coach one way or another.”

“MOM!  EVERYONE! PLEASE STOP TALKING AND LET ME EXPLAIN!" Shouted an exasperated Donna. "I truly appreciate all your  well-meaning suggestions and concern that we have the perfect Disney wedding experience; but Benedict and I are not getting married in Disney World or in any church in Florida.”  

Benedict looked relieved.  _Thank God!  I was getting concerned I was going to be forced to step in and sort this out for Donna. However, my Darling finally located her bollocks!  Well done her._

Just then Carly and Steven walked into the kitchen.  Carly stopped short and regarded her twin sister as if she were crazy.  Then she shook her mane of blonde curls as if she were hearing things.  Benedict noticed that Steven did an abrupt about-face and left the room as quickly as he had come in.

“What do you mean you’re not having a Disney Wedding, Donna?  That’s all you’ve ever talked about since they started hosting weddings there. You told me you had it all planned – did you not?  The Aladdin-themed wedding reception in the Contemporary ballroom with a cake shaped like the Cave of Wonders… having the Fab Five at the reception along with the Aladdin face characters…”

“Who in the hell are the Fab Five?”  interrupted Benedict.

“Mickey, Minnie, Goofy, Donald and Pluto,” replied Neil, rolling his eyes. “I thought everyone knew that.”

"Forgive me, Neil.  I'm not as up on my Disney trivia as I'd like to be," said Benedict.

Carly looked dejected.  “I don’t understand why the sudden about face.  What gives, Sister?”

Donna indicated her and Benedict.  “We decided that we don’t want that kind of wedding!”

It was then Benedict Cumberbatch understood what Donna must have been going through as all eyes now focused on him.  The expressions on the faces in the kitchen were not friendly ones.  These were expressions of disbelief coupled with anger.  A feeling of hostility hung in the air.   _Hmmm...this is a bit not good._

 

*******************************************************

 

Timothy Carlton stood just outside the kitchen door, listening to the conversation that was revolving around his son’s wedding.  He had been sorely tempted to barge in and put an end to it on behalf of Benedict and Donna, but managed to use every ounce of self-control he possessed in order to hold himself back _.   For fucks sake!  This is what it must feel like to be my wife!  I don't know how Wanda has been able to control herself.  I know she's fighting the impulse to give those right bastards a clip about the ears. Hell, I'm fighting it, and I've always been the calm one out of the two of us._

Donna's sudden outburst from the kitchen caused him to almost jump out of his skin.

“MOM!  EVERYONE! PLEASE STOP TALKING AND LET ME EXPLAIN! I truly appreciate all your well-meaning suggestions and concern that we have the perfect Disney wedding; but Benedict and I are not getting married in Disney World or in any church in Florida.”    

_Bloody hell!  She finally told them. Well done you, Donna!  Damn, what a time for my bladder to give the signal that it's time to use the loo!_

 

 

Five minutes later, Timothy returned to his post just outside the kitchen door and resumed listening.  Carly had apparently joined in the conversation. _Is this what it's like to be Barrister Ben then?_

“I don’t understand why the sudden about face.  What gives, Sister?”

“We decided that we don’t want that kind of wedding!”

_I think now would be an opportune time for me to make my entrance,_ thought Timothy.  _Whilst everyone is coming up for air._

Timothy strode into the kitchen and noticed that all conversation had suddenly stopped.  He tossed the sachets to Benedict.  “Mission accomplished.”

“Here you go, Angelo,” said Neil handing the bowl of pretzels to Angelo, who Donna noticed did not budge.

“So, what are we talking about?” smiled Timothy, hazel eyes gazing at the occupants of the room.  "Everyone looks very...intent."

“The wedding,” replied Carly sadly.  “Donna just told us that she and Ben have decided not to have their wedding at Walt Disney World.” 

_Hell, I could have told you that_ , thought Timothy.  _My son would never fancy being married in a theme park.  
_

_I warned my wife that there was the distinct possibility that Cumberbatch wouldn’t want a Disney wedding, and now it appears he’s gone and talked Donna out of her dream,_ thought Neil sadly. _I saw her eyes light up at the mention of the Cinderella Suite._

Benedict caught the sachets and turned to unwrap them.  He looked into Donna's eyes and planted a kiss on her cheek.  “That was a good start - as you were then.” 

_Oh, how I would love nothing more than to throw in my two pence now; but I promised Mum and Dad that I’d mind my own business…but isn’t this my business_?

_As you were then?  That’s all he’s going to say?  Jeez Louise!  I know.  Benedict is waiting for me to break it to them that we’re getting married in London. Baby steps, Ben Honey.  Baby steps.  
_

“Oh!  You’re getting married here!  That’s excellent news!” exclaimed Angelo, clapping his hands together. 

_New York?  He thinks we're getting married in New York?  Isn't he going to be the surprised one,_ thought Benedict.  _Tell him, Donna.  Let's not start with New York wedding planning now._

“Have you considered getting permission to marry in Saint Patrick’s Cathedral or will you be using the Church of the Epiphany?  If you really have your heart set on Saint Pat’s, I know the Cardinal personally," said Angelo.  "I’ve been a parishioner for years now, and I’m sure we could work something out.”  Angelo winked at Donna and Benedict. _  
_

“New York!  Why on earth didn’t you tell us, Muffin? I never even considered the possibility that you’d want to get married here!  All right.  We’ll work with whatever you two want,” said Toni, trying not to hyperventilate.  “We can do a New York wedding with all the trimmings.  It’ll be fine. Yes. Don't worry. We can arrange a perfectly magnificent wedding without being at Disney.  You'll see.  You won't be disappointed, I promise.  I’ll make sure to call Father Matt about the date first thing tomorrow morning.  Of course, we’ll have to get permission for you to marry a non-Catholic.”

“Unless they decide on Saint Pat’s,” interjected Angelo.  “Just say the word, Donna; and I’ll call the Cardinal tomorrow and get things going.”

“Saint Pat’s would be lovely,” said Carly, warming to the topic.  “You’ll need to find a gown with a cathedral length train and veil to do that center aisle justice, Donna.”

“I hate to put a damper on Saint Patrick’s, but have you considered all the tourists milling about taking photographs,” Serafina reminded them.  “Do you _really_ want that on such an important day? Saint Patrick’s is a top tourist destination.  I think the Church of the Epiphany would be a better choice myself.  Don't you agree, Toni?”

_Christ on a crutch!  It seems our wedding plans are up to everyone else but us!_ Thought Benedict angrily.  _Donna needs to take control of the floor before I do.  I am sorely tempted to tell them all to go piss off – even the grandmother and mafia uncle at the risk of my winding up on the bottom of the Thames one day.  
_

_New York? I notice my daughter hasn’t confirmed or denied that choice,_ thought Neil. _Cumberbatch is looking simultaneously smug and angry.  It’s not New York either I have a feeling.  Toni needs to shut the hell up now.  She’s rolling right over Donna every time she starts to open her mouth._

“Why don’t we all let Donna finish telling us what their plans are, since they’ve obviously made some,” suggested Neil gently. 

“The Plaza’s ballroom should be big enough to hold our family,” said Serafina, ignoring Neil’s plea.

“It doesn’t have to be a ballroom,” countered Angelo. “What about the Central Park Boathouse or the Water Club?"

"Those are both more intimate than the Plaza," added Carly. "I'd go for the Central Park Boathouse myself.”

“Wait! I know the perfect venue!” exclaimed Toni.  “The Mandarin Oriental!  Just think of the view!  They do the most fabulous weddings!  Remember, Neil?”

“Yes, I do; but you need…”

“When was this?” asked Angelo.

“We just went to one – it was Neil’s Editor’s daughter.  Oh, it was gorgeous, Angelo!  The flowers – the food – they had room for a whole orchestra – the view over Central Park is unparalleled…”

“We’ve already got an orchestra in mind, as well as a venue, Antonia,” said Benedict quietly, as he eyed Donna.  _It looks as if I'm going to have to intervene._

Toni stopped in mid-sentence and glared daggers at Benedict.  “Well, no one told me!”

_The cow hasn't shut up and is getting annoyed with me as if I were to blame, bless her._

“That’s because you keep chattering over everyone, Antonia,” shot back Benedict.  "Why don't you take a deep breath and listen to what we have to say for fucks sake?"

“Just who are you thinking of using?” Toni demanded with a frown.   “And where are you thinking of having the reception?”

“ANTONIA!  It’s time to get out of the fucking pool of enthusiasm because you’re drowning. If you would just please shut up and let them speak, then you would know everything there is to know!” yelled Neil, pounding his fist on the table.  “Now, what exactly are the plans, Muffin?”

_Thank you, Daddy.  I think I can do this now.  It's time for me to get a backbone and not be a fucking doormat any longer._

“We’re getting married in London, because that's our home base,” replied Donna, smiling at Benedict and taking his hand in hers.  “We want a traditional church wedding in either Benedict’s church or the one he was christened in, followed by a cocktail hour and dinner reception in a historical old house…”

“Which home?” asked Wanda excitedly.  She felt Timothy poke her to be quiet.

“Kenwood House in Hampstead,” replied Benedict with a smile. 

“And afterwards there will be dancing in their Orangery,” finished Donna. 

Donna noticed that a profound silence fell over the kitchen as all eyes remained riveted to her.  Benedict squeezed her hand and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. Donna sagged against him, suddenly feeling drained. “I’m so proud of you, Darling,” he whispered, kissing her temple.  “That wasn’t so bad now, was it?”

“It’s the aftermath I’m more afraid of,” she whispered.

“Well, your aunt and I just love destination weddings!” exclaimed Angelo.  “And we’ve never been to London, so this will be our golden opportunity to combine your wedding with a vacation.  I’m sure it will be lots of fun.  Let me go tell the others so we can start looking into airfares.  It’s December fourth, correct?”

“Yeah,” replied Benedict, rubbing the back of his neck.  “Erm…we’ll probably arrange for a block of discounted hotel rooms somewhere, so don’t go looking into that just yet.”

“If you get married in our church, the Royal Garden Hotel would be perfect,” suggested Wanda.  “It’s right by our flat.  Have you considering having the wedding breakfast at…”

“Shhhhh!” warned Timothy, poking her again.  “Be the good one.”

“Bugger off, Tim.  Neither of them is getting stropy with me.”

_Give them time, Wanda.  Give him time._

“Thank you, Mum,” said Benedict pleasantly.  “We’ll take that under consideration.”

“I’m going to have a lot of questions for you, Wanda, regarding wedding etiquette in the UK,” said Donna.  “I hope you won’t mind if I pick your brain.”

Wanda smiled smugly at Timothy.  “Not at all, Love. It'll be my pleasure. I’m here at your disposal.”

_Look at the expression on Toni’s face,_ thought Wanda with glee.  _She’s not happy that her daughter is coming to me for advice.  Ha!_

The only sound was that of the whistling tea kettle.

“Kettle’s boiled.  Would you be so kind as to turn it off, Antonia?” asked Benedict, spooning the tea leaves into the strainer inside the pot. 

_I can’t sit here any longer.  I need to know if that bastard talked her out of it_ , thought Neil.

“Muffin,” began Neil, getting up and heading for the doorway leading into the hallway.  “Your mother and I would like to speak with you in private.”

“What about?” asked Donna, casting a worried look towards Benedict.

“Just go and tell them the truth,” he whispered into her ear.  "The hardest part is over."

Suddenly, the kitchen was swarming with all the guests who had streamed out of the study, signaling that the game had come to an end.

“Please go into the dining room and help yourselves everyone. We’ll be right back,” Said Toni, following Neil.  She paused in the doorway and looked back at her daughter.  “Come, Donna. Let’s go upstairs to my bedroom so we can talk.”

 

***********************************************

 

 Wanda Ventham had gotten up and gone over to her son's side as soon as Donna disappeared from the kitchen with her parents.

“Maybe you should go up there as well, Ben.”

“Erm…if you’ve taken notice, I wasn’t invited, Mum.  They want to interrogate her without me.”

“What on earth for?  Just because your idea of the perfect wedding wasn’t the same as theirs?”

“Christ on a crutch!  That’s ridiculous,” said Timothy, pouring the boiling water over the tea leaves.  “He can’t go up there, Wanda.  Donna needs to tell them their reasons by herself.  If Ben goes after her, they'll only resent his meddling.”

Benedict set the timer for five minutes and leaned back against the counter.  “Don’t get me wrong.  Part of me yearns to go after Donna in the worst way and tell them to fuck off, but she really does need to deal with them herself.  Not that the cocksuckers will believe her.  I’m sure I’ll get sole blame for this.  You saw their faces.”

“I did,” confirmed Wanda.  “And it hurt me deeply to think that they would hold it against you.  You are a dear, kind man who has nothing but Donna’s best interests at heart.”

“Neither of us knows the particulars, Ben,” said Timothy. “But I am going to ask you:  Did you talk Donna out of her dream wedding or pressure her in any way to change her mind?”

“No.  We both shared our images of what the ideal wedding was to each of us.  At first, Donna did want the Disney extravaganza.  However, after voicing her ideas aloud and then hearing my ideas; she decided it was no longer what she envisioned.  Donna told me that she fancied my ideas and wanted to pursue a London wedding.That’s the long and short of it. Yeah.”

Timothy frowned.  “Has it occurred to you that being Donna had this sudden epiphany, she could just as suddenly have another and change her mind back?”

“Particularly if Toni and Neil attempt to try and influence her,” added Wanda worriedly. "Toni can be very persuasive.  That's why she's such a successful lawyer."

“Oh God.  I hadn’t considered that,” moaned Benedict.  “I could visualize them doing just that.  I seriously wish I were a fly on the wall right now.”

 

**************************************************

 

Donna Saint James stood at the window of her parents’ bedroom, looking out at the backyard.  Neil was sitting on the edge of the bed, and Toni was impatiently pacing back and forth in front of it.

“Muffin, I’m going to ask you a simple question, and then I’m letting the subject drop.  However, I want an honest answer,” began Neil in a reasonable tone.  “Did Cumberbatch talk you out of having a Disney wedding?”

Donna turned to face her father.  Toni had stopped mid-pace and stood expectantly waiting for her response, arms folded and tapping her foot impatiently.

_Dad doesn’t seem perturbed; but Mom’s in her courtroom stance, anxiously waiting for the witness to answer the question so she can pounce.  
_

“No, Dad.”

“Then we have our answer, Toni,” said Neil.  “Thank you, Donna.  Let's go downstairs and have our fruit and nuts.”

“Well, you can feel free to go; but I’m not satisfied,” retorted Toni. “Donna, you have spoken of nothing but having a Disney Destination Wedding ever since they first started offering them.”

“And that’s true, Mom.  I did want one more than anything.”

“I distinctly remember you saying to me at Carly’s Illuminations Fireworks Dessert Party:  Mom, this was the perfect wedding.  I want to have the same things when I get married someday.”

Donna nodded.  “And that’s true.  I did long for that; but it seems my tastes have since changed. Believe me, that came as quite a shock to me when I realized that having a Disney wedding was no longer on my bucket list.”

“What in the heck are you talking about?” demanded Toni.  “Five years isn't that long ago.”

“A lot has happened to me since then, Mom.  I’m living and working in another country, which is something I never thought I’d do.  The most surprising thing is that I fell in love with a man who isn’t into Disney.”

“Imagine that,” quipped Neil. “I would have thought that would have been a deal breaker, to be honest.”

“Me, too, Dad.  No one was more surprised than I was when I realized that it no longer mattered to me whether the man I marry loves Disney as much as I do.  There were other things that were more important.”

“We wouldn’t be having this conversation if you were marrying Danny or Roy,” said Toni sadly.  “We’d be going full steam ahead with your wedding plans.”

“That’s right, Mom.  However, I’m no longer with Danny, who would have been extremely receptive to the idea of having a Disney wedding for obvious reasons.  Roy wouldn’t have cared where we got married as long as it didn't interfere too much with his workload, so the Disney wedding would have been okay with him as well.  Benedict, however, isn’t a Disneyphile; and when we sat down to discuss our ideas of what the perfect wedding was – his did not match mine at all.”

“AH, HA!  That’s exactly what I thought!” exclaimed Toni triumphantly.  “Benedict put his foot down and said no to the idea of getting married at Disney, and you’re going along with it in order to keep the peace, aren’t you?”

“Counselor, you’re leading the witness,” snapped Neil.  “Please let Donna speak for herself, Dear.”

“It’s true, Mom; Benedict was against the idea of a Disney Destination Wedding, and I wasn’t going to shove it down his throat. It wouldn’t have been right.”

“But is it right that he’s denying you your dream wedding?” asked Toni angrily. 

“Benedict’s not denying me _anything_ , Mom.  I’m sure if I still had my heart set on Disney and were to push the issue, he’d go along with it.”

“It sounds to me as if one of you had to acquiesce to the other, and you were the one to back down,” said Toni.  “And all this time I thought he was such a proper English gentleman.  Boy, was I fooled!”

Donna sighed.  “It sounds to me as if you're upset because your idea of a dream wedding is being denied rather than mine."

"That's not true!"

"Is it, Mom?  I think you're bitterly disappointed that we're not going along with what _you_ want for us.  I know how much fun you had helping to plan Carly and Kenny's weddings; and I know how much you were anticipating helping me to plan mine.  I'm sorry if I ruined the experience for you; but this is Benedict's and my life; and we need to do what's right for us.  As much as you don't like hearing it, a Disney wedding is not for us - for who we are as a couple."

Toni remained silent.  Her eyes started to fill with tears of frustration.  "I knew the son of a bitch was going to cause trouble from the first time we met him on Skype, damn him!"

"If you would _please_ just let me finish explaining, Mom!  And try to see my side of it for once!”

“Go ahead, Muffin,” prodded Neil.  “The court is going to take a short recess while you have the floor.”  He patted the bed beside him. "Have a seat, Toni; and please be quiet until Donna finishes what she has to say."

“When the time came for me to share my vision with Benedict, it sounded so over-the-top and…well…silly to me.  I’m not talking about the Grand Floridian Wedding Pavilion because that is such a beautiful spot.  I mean the rest of it:  Cinderella’s horse-drawn coach with the footmen, having a reception in the recreated city of Agrabah with fur and face characters in attendance, a special performance of the Hoop-Dee-Doo Review for our guests, the fireworks cruise dessert party, spending my wedding night in the Magic Kingdom, the extended family honeymoon with non-stop touring.  I discovered to my surprise that my adolescent dreams no longer filled me with the same giddiness and anticipation that it once did. I found I wanted something more – adult, for lack of a better word.  I realized I wanted our wedding to be a serious celebration of our love.”

“You could still have a toned-down version,” said Neil.  “Nothing’s cast in stone yet. You could still have the ceremony in the wedding chapel, followed by a reception at say the California Grill or LeCellier.”

“You don’t even have to stay in the Cinderella Suite,” interjected Toni.  “The Animal Kingdom Lodge has beautiful one-bedroom suites with Savannah views.”

“I also thought of that, but it still didn’t seem right for who I am now,” said Donna.  “Benedict had the same – epiphany- as you called it, when he told me about his dream wedding in Saint Paul’s Cathedral followed by a reception in Blenheim Palace.  He also realized when he got through telling me that it was an unrealistic and over-the-top extravagance.  Then we talked about it some more.  We were both holding onto our teenage fantasies, which neither of us were prepared to let go of, but we did and came up with what I thought was the perfect compromise that suited and excited us both.”

“In other words, Benedict convinced you to go along with what he wanted,” scoffed Toni.

“No, Mom.  He didn’t.  However, Benedict came to realize that having a church wedding was very important to him.  It doesn’t matter to me whether we marry in a church or at the reception venue, so I agreed to that.  Then he mentioned Kenwood House in Hampstead, and that just sounded like the perfect place to hold the reception.  They host one event at a time, so we’ll have the whole place to ourselves. It's up on a hill overlooking the London Skyline with spectacular views of Hampstead Heath.  Go take a look at it online."

Toni frowned "Do they have a decent in-house caterer?  The caterers in these places tend to be awful from my past experiences."

"Yes, but you can bring in your own caterers. We’re going to approach Jamie Oliver about providing the catering for us, since we feel he kind of brought us together.”

“I’m sure he will –  provided you give his new restaurant a better review this time around,” teased Neil.

Donna laughed.  “Crap!  I hadn’t thought of that, Dad. I keep putting it off, but  I need to do it as soon as I get back.  Anyway, Benedict and I are looking for something more relaxed than the extravaganza Carly and Steve had.  And before you say anything, I’m not making fun of their wedding.  It was a magnificent affair and right for them; but not for Benedict and me.”

Neil nodded.  “I suppose a Disney wedding isn’t everyone’s cup of tea.  Cumberbatch is entitled to his dreams as you are to yours.”

“And there has to be a happy compromise between the two,” said Donna.  “Mom, you always tell me that a marriage needs to be a balance of give and take in order to remain on solid ground.”

“True.”

“You two have done a great balancing act.  I hope that Benedict and I have a marriage half as solid as yours is.  I’ve never seen a couple more attuned to each other than you guys are.”

Donna’s parents smiled fondly at each other.  Neil wrapped an arm around Toni's shoulders and hugged her against him as she kissed him on the lips.  "I love her still, even with all of her faults," he joked.  

“Anyway, after hearing Benedict’s…amended vision, I realized that was exactly the type of wedding I wanted for us to have. We’re looking for our wedding to be simple and fun, yet elegant at the same time.”

“I’m sure it will be a lovely wedding no matter what you two decide,” said Neil.  “Uncle Angelo was very enthusiastic about going to London.”

“Why would you pick to get married in London of all places, Donna?” asked Toni. “It’s across the Atlantic for God’s sake!  How in the world do you expect me to be able to help you plan?  If you had chosen New York, I could have done all the legwork for you!”

“Please don’t take this the wrong way, but that’s exactly why, Mom.  Benedict and I are adults.  I’m thirty-years old and Benedict is thirty-three.  We’re not confused, naïve kids. We know what we want and how we want to go about doing it.  The one thing we’re absolutely adamant about is doing all the legwork ourselves.  We’re only going to do this once, and we want to have complete control.  Being we live and work in London, having the wedding there makes perfect sense.  If we had it here or in Disney, we would lose a certain amount of control over things.  Our schedules are such that we can’t be flying back and forth, nor do we want to do it online or over the phone. We want to enjoy the planning phase.  I hope you both can understand and accept that.”

“Humph!  Wanda and Tim will be in the thick of the planning no doubt,” Cried Toni.  “We won’t know what’s going on!   I hate being kept in the dark!”

“Yes, you will know what's going on.  We plan on keeping both sets of parents informed of our decisions as we make them.  Neither of us would ever dream of shutting any of you out.  It’s important to both of us that our parents are involved.”

“We appreciate that, Muffin,” said Neil. “Don’t we, Toni?”

“You know you could still go to Disney for your honeymoon," said Toni. 

"Sorry to have to keep disappointing you, Mom; but Benedict and I have decided on two weeks in Europe:  one in France and one in Italy."

“And I'm sure you'll have a marvelous time," said Neil. "What's there not to like about France and Italy?  Plenty of things to see and do, great food and wines.  All that history to explore!  I think that's actually a great idea for a honeymoon."

"What about Euro Disney?" piped up Toni.

"The prosecution will now rest,” snapped Neil.  “There’s nothing more to say, Toni.  Donna’s made up her mind.  It's time to back off and let it go already!”

“Fine.  Well, I think I’d better go down and tend to our guests,” Sniffed Toni, closing the door behind her with a bang that made Donna and Neil jump.

“Mom's good and pissed at me, isn’t she?” said Donna.

“She’ll get over it, as will we all,” smiled Neil.  “You’ve thrown us for a loop, Muffin.  Not one of us ever expected you to turn down a Disney wedding.”

“Least of all me!” giggled Donna.  “It’s funny how we change.”

Neil nodded.  "It happens to all of us.  It's called growing up."

“You haven’t said all that much, Dad,” said Donna. 

“As you said, this is your wedding; and you and Cumberbatch need to make plans that will please you both.  Your mother and I already had our turn when we planned our own wedding and honeymoon, such as it was.  Don’t worry about hurting anyone’s feelings or disappointing the family. Go back to London with your fiancé and book whatever venues you like.  Just make sure to have the bills sent to me.”

 

****************************************************

 

“Mmmmm…you really should find a way to market this blend, Tim,” said Wanda sipping from the mug of hot tea.  “I like how Donna always refers to it as Tim’s Brew.”

“She’s called it that from the first time she tasted it,” said Benedict.

“I’m sure I’m not the only one in the world to have hit upon this concoction,” said Timothy with a modest chuckle.  “It was simply the result of my mixing in a little of the Lapsang Souchong when I didn’t have enough Earl Grey to make us a pot.”

“And a happy result it was!” smiled Wanda.

Benedict sighed deeply as he sipped at his tea.  “God, I wonder what’s going on up there.  I’m feeling so anxious right now, I could puke.”  He set the mug down on the kitchen table with a bang.

“Ben, do you think Donna gave in about the wedding in order to pacify you?” asked Timothy.  “I know how much your happiness means to her, and Donna would be the type to put your needs and desires ahead of her own.”

“Because that would be an awful thing, Ben,” added Wanda.  “The girl is entitled to her dreams just as you are to yours.  I’m sure you could have agreed on some sort of compromise – like a church wedding followed by a wedding breakfast at Disney perhaps.”

“No.  I’m certain this is what Donna wants.  We did discuss it at length and it's been sorted between us. Believe me, Donna said she was completely gob-smacked that the Disney wedding was no longer as important to her as it once was; and I believe her.”

“Alright then,” said Timothy.  “Let’s just hope they aren’t’ too hard on her.”

“You would think it was their fucking wedding,” scoffed Wanda.  “Did you hear them?  They had it all sorted out!”

“And didn’t think to consult either of you,” added Timothy.

“Well, I’m just the groom,” scoffed Benedict.  “It’s all about the bride’s wishes and desires as far as they’re concerned.  My sole purpose is shut up and father grandchildren as far as they’re concerned. I suppose I'm fairly quiet when I'm in a mood.”

_Quiet? Our son was never quiet whenever he and Olivia were shagging when they came to stay over in Gloucestershire,_ thought Timothy.  _Wanda and I could hear him through the walls for fucks sake - and those walls are fairly thick. He must mean something else.  
_

_He obviously isn’t aware of how loud he is when shagging, bless him.  I'm sure he couldn't have meant that,_ thought Wanda with amusement.

Timothy and Wanda exchanged glances and burst out laughing.

“I really don’t think that’s what you meant, Ben,” said Wanda. "At least I hope not!"

"Not that we listen in on purpose, but they're have been times when the walls were very thin," added Timothy.

Benedict allowed their words to sink in in regards to what he had said.  _For fucks sake!  That didn’t come out the way I meant it to.  Christ, what they must think!_

“Oh shit!  No…not at all.  Of course not.  I meant that they just expect me to keep quiet all the time and provide them with grandchildren…not that I had to be quiet during…because that’s very difficult to control when one is caught up in the throes of passion…and none of their business.  Oh, fuck…you know what I meant…they just want me for my sperm.  The other part had nothing to do with shagging.  What I meant is that I'm normally quiet whenever I'm stropy - in a mood.  You know.”

"Yes, we are well-acquainted with your stropy moods," quipped Timothy.  "We also realize you’re not their first choice for a son-in-law.”

“Toni certainly is a force to be reckoned with, bless her,” said Wanda. “She’s taken over like the ring leader.  Interesting how Neil doesn’t say all that much about the wedding.  This was the first time he’s actually put his finger in the pie.”

“I was watching Neil closely,” said Benedict.  “I don’t think the wanker gives a toss where we get married in the end.  I think he’s just concerned that this is what Donna truly wants. He’s concerned with her happiness – hell, they both are really.”

“Well, they have an odd way of showing their concern,” sniffed Wanda.

“That’s for them to sort out as a family,” said Timothy. “I don’t know about you two, but I’ve a hankering for some fruit and nuts – even though we have had our share of nuts today!”

“You can say that again!” giggled Wanda.  “It’s been quite a day.”

“Shall we go through then?” Benedict Cumberbatch draped an arm around each of his parents’ shoulders as he led them towards the dining room.  “Speaking of compromise…do you think they would permit us to have a small fireworks display at Kenwood House after the night do?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. My apologies for any inconsistencies in continuity. When I went to post, I wound up having to rewrite parts of this chapter.
> 
> 2\. You can hire the Disney characters to come to your wedding, dressed in formal wedding attire. 
> 
> 3\. More tension to come.


	143. Chapter 143

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Benedict spends his last morning in New York. Donna receives visitors with a hidden agenda. Meanwhile back in London, Andrew Scott returns home from a weekend in Dublin to a nasty surprise. 
> 
> Note: I’ll be using ******* for things happening at the same time

 

Benedict Cumberbatch was abruptly awakened by the sound of a car alarm blaring outside the brownstone. 

_Bloody hell!  I’d love to catch the motherfucker whose alarm is always going off.  This is the second time this morning for fucks sake!  And it always happens in the wee hours of the morning.  When Donna and I go house-hunting, we need to make sure that the master suite is in the back of the house.  
_

Benedict rolled onto his side and squinted over at the bedside clock in the semi-darkness.  It was just after nine o’clock, which surprised him.  What he found even more surprising was that Donna was peacefully sleeping beside him.

_Hmmm…no wonder I feel refreshed. I’ve gotten a proper amount of sleep for once.  Donna must have really been knackered after our surprise engagement party last night. Its amazing the motherfucking car alarm didn't wake her.  I think I’ll go down and make us some breakfast; but first, I think I’ll have a lie in for just a little while longer.  It’s so nice and warm and cozy in bed._

Benedict rolled over onto his back and sighed contentedly.  He sniffed several times as his nose felt stuffy and reached out for the box of tissues that Donna had placed on what was now his nightstand. After blowing his nose, Benedict tossed the soiled tissue into the wastebasket that was also on his side of the bed. 

_My throat feels so damn dry.  I must have been mouth-breathing last night.  Maybe some water will help to ease the scratchiness._

His long, slender fingers wrapped around the glass of water that he always made a habit of keeping on his nightstand.  Unfortunately, when Benedict raised the glass to his lips and tilted it, he found to his dismay that it was empty.  It was obvious he had drunk the contents during the night.  After fluffing his pillow, Benedict closed his eyes and turned over onto his stomach, head turned towards the nightstand.  He began to sniff again.

_Shit.  My nose still feels stuffy.  It must be the forced air heating. I much prefer my radiators.  I must buy some saline spray to keep my nasal passages moist on the flight home._

Benedict once again reached out for a tissue, but this time he knocked the box onto the floor.  He reached down and tried feeling for them in the darkness.  Suddenly, he felt a warm, wet tongue lick his fingers causing him to jerk his hand away and open his eyes.  Donna’s dog, Pierre, was staring at him as if to say:  it’s time to get up.  Then he licked Benedict’s face, wagged his tail and gave a little yip. 

“Hello, Mate.  Are you trying to tell me that you’d fancy a walk?”

Pierre gave another little yip and started towards the door, pausing to look back towards the bed to see if Benedict was going to follow him.

_I’ll take that as a ‘yes’ then.  Poor sod must be trying to hold it in.  Let me slip into my track suit and trainers so we can have a wander over to Lexington Avenue._

Donna stirred and sat up beside Benedict.  “Shhhh Pierre!  You’re going to wake Benedict,” she whispered.

“Benedict has already been woken,” came his gravely morning voice from the darkness.

Donna reached over and switched on the bedside lamp.  Benedict was lying on his back, rubbing the crusted sleep from his eyes.   Pierre took that as the all-clear signal to greet his mistress and padded over to the bed, tail wagging.  Donna leaned over and petted Pierre on the head. 

“I’m so sorry, Honey.”

“Don’t blame Pierre. I was already up.  The sounds of the city were at work once again to try and undermine my rest. Every morning it’s something here – car alarms, cabs blasting their horns, the rubbish collectors.  Today a skip was delivered across the street around half seven, which inadvertently set off someone’s car alarm just after I had fallen back asleep.”

“The Jacksons are remodeling their brownstone.  The dumpster will be there for a month according to the letter I received from the Block Association.”

“I love that my bedroom at home faces the Heath.”

“I know.  It’s nice to wake up to a view of the Heath and London’s skyline beyond.”

“You’re right, of course; but I was referring to the absence of street noise.”

“You remarked how quiet this block is.”

“No, you told me what a quiet street this is.  I think you fib, Miss Saint James,” said Benedict as he tossed off the covers and got out of the bed.  “Pierre and I are going for a walk.”  He began to pull off his sleep pants.

_I can sense Donna giving me the once-over.  God, how I love having my ego stroked – amongst other things._

_Gosh, I do love how his looks in those boxer briefs.  They cling to all the right places._  

Donna hugged Pierre by his great head as he licked her face.  Then he whined at her.

“Okay, boy.  I know.  It’s time for a walk. Go get your leash,” Donna said, kissing his nose. 

“You don’t kiss my nose like that.”

“Come over here and I’d be happy to oblige you, as long as you promise not to lick my face.”

“Scout’s honor,” said Benedict solemnly whilst crossing his heart.

"You were never a boy scout."

"That's true," agreed Benedict as he rummaged through the wardrobe for his track suit.  "Ah, here it is all neatly hung up."  _I prefer to keep my tracksuit in a bloody drawer, but if she wants it on a hangar, let her knock herself out._

The dog bounded from the room, and they could hear him thumping down the stairs to the foyer, where Donna kept his leash on a hook by the door leading to her apartment.

“Your dog is anything but quiet,” laughed Benedict, as he quickly donned his track suit.  He ran his hands through his sleep tousled auburn curls in an attempt to tame them.  The errant curl fell over his forehead, causing him to sigh irritably.

_Christ, I hate my hair this long!  I’m going to resemble Mum by the time they start filming Sherlock.  
_

_I love his curly hair.  Especially, when that one lock falls across his forehead.  I’ll never understand why he always wants to slick it back off his face._

“Not true!  Pierre is quite good at stealth.  You didn’t hear him come upstairs this morning, did you?”

“Erm…no, actually.  I didn’t hear him.”

“We left him in his bed in the kitchen last night.  When I got up to use the bathroom last night, there he was in his favorite spot in front of the fireplace. I had to shoo him back downstairs.”

Benedict perched on the edge of Donna’s side of the bed and slid his feet into his trainers with a bit of difficulty. 

_Only Benedict would keep on those thick slipper socks.  I had no idea he would become so attached to them when I brought them home to him.  It’s a good thing I got him two pairs._

“Pierre loves to sneak up here. You’ll see after you’ve been around him longer,” giggled Donna, tracing small circles on Benedict’s back as his tied the laces.  “When he’s feeling especially brave, he’s been known to hop up on the chaise lounge and curl up with the throw.”

“Well, I’ll only be around him for the duration of today, as I’m flying back to London tonight.”

Donna flopped down on the bed.  “Oh, don’t remind me!” She groaned, covering her face with her arm.  “I hate that you’re going home without me!”

_I like how she keeps referring to London as home now._

Pierre returned with his leash in his mouth and stood in front of Benedict expectantly. 

“Oh come on, it won’t be so bad,” cajoled Benedict, as he fastened the leash to the dogs collar. “You can use the time to visit with family and friends. Didn’t you say your friend, Giada, was coming in from California?”

Donna brightened at the mention of her friend’s name. “She arrives from LA Friday afternoon for a meeting with the Food TV Network on the following Monday.  Then she’s staying the week to do some Christmas shopping.  As a matter of fact, I invited her to stay here with me.”

“See, you two can have a proper catch up then. My parents will still be here next week, so you’ve got the next two weeks not to be lonely.”

“I know.  Your mom expressed an interest in meeting Giada, so I’m going to arrange for a lunch.  I’m thinking of the five-course tasting lunch at Bouley, so we can take our time and chat.”

“Mum and Dad leave the following Monday on the first flight out.”

“Yep, and we have plans to do sooo many things together - after their debut at the Gramercy Park British Society Monday afternoon.”

Benedict laughed.  “I almost lost it when Colin showed us the flyers he had printed up:  Spend an Afternoon with World-Famous Celebrity Guests, Wanda Ventham and Timothy Carlton.”

“Umm…there was a little more to it than that.  Grandpa listed all of their accomplishments as well, which is why the flyer was two pages long,” snickered Donna. 

_Which was more than your parents put about Mum and Dad in our engagement announcement.  
_

“I’ve never seen Grandpa more excited about something.  He can’t wait to show off Wanda to his friends at the club.  They’re all huge fans of hers!”

“I’ve never seen Mum so giddy and flattered.  She confessed to me that she’s really looking forward to doing it.”

“I wish your dad shared in her enthusiasm.  He looked like he swallowed a lemon when Grandpa told them about the Q and A and photo op after the film.”

“Oh, no!  I assure you that Dad felt quite the opposite, Donna.  What you witnessed was the gruff exterior that he reserves solely for your Granddad.  Dad _was_ secretly tickled as well – even though he didn’t show it.  Especially, when Colin mentioned how all the ladies almost swooned at the thought of seeing him in person.  I know he was over the moon.”

“He certainly fooled me.  I thought he was going to bop Grandpa on the nose.”

“That’s why Dad’s such a brilliant actor.  I just wish he wouldn’t take Colin’s fawning over Mum to heart all the time.  The old boy is harmless.”

“Grandpa has a terrible crush on your mom, but it’s completely innocent as you just pointed out.  He’s like an overgrown fanboy.”

“I realize that and deep down inside Dad does as well; but it still ruffles his feathers all the same to watch Mum get all aflutter whenever Colin’s around.  Plus your mum’s baking scones for the occasion. It’s such a shame that I’m going to miss it.”

“I’ll be sure to take photos and try and record their question and answer session onto a DVD for you.”

“Yes, please do!  I must have a copy of that for posterity.  Erm…What else do you plan on doing with Mum and Dad?  I hope your schedule isn’t _too_ ambitious.”

“I’d like to take them to Radio City Music Hall to see the Christmas Spectacular and all the Christmas decorations and markets around town.  I made reservations for the Four Seasons Hotel’s Christmas Tea, too.”

“All I ask is that you mind the fact that my parents aren’t thirty anymore and will require a slower pace than you, Darling.”

Donna crossed her heart.  “I hereby promise not to run your parents ragged.”

“Last night I overheard Colin suggest taking an overnight trip to Atlantic City and spending a few days in Pennsylvania once Mum and Dad return to London.”

“Yeah, those are all good ideas.  I haven’t been to Lancaster or Hershey in a long time; so I’m going to take him up on it after Giada leaves.  It’ll be fun to go on a mini road trip with Grandpa the week before Christmas.  However, I was really looking forward to my first Christmas in London.  I had all these things lined up that I wanted to experience with my new fiancé.”

“And you’ll get to experience them all next year with your new husband.  I’ll be passing the bagel store on Lexington Avenue, do you fancy anything?”

“Is this your way of telling me that you’d like a bagel for breakfast?”

“Yep, there’s nothing like an authentic New York bagel.  I thought I’d buy a dozen to bring back on the plane.”

“Good gravy, you’re starting to sound like my mother.  I’ll have an onion bagel with a little butter.  In the meantime I’ll use the shower and put on some coffee for you.”

“Not to worry.  I set up the coffee maker last night.  I’m sure it’s done brewing by now.  Can I have my kiss please?”

Donna leaned forward and kissed Benedict soundly on the tip of his nose.

“There!  One nose kiss as promised.”

“How about one on the lips?”  He asked pointing to his full cupid’s bow lips.

“I think I can accommodate you.  Come closer!”  Donna grabbed a fistful of his t-shirt and pulled him against her.  She kissed him deeply.  “That should hold you until you return.”

“Mmmm…that was very, very nice.  I love you.”

“I love you, too, Ben Honey; but my doggy is starting to whine.”

“OH crumpets!  Yes, he is!  I’m so sorry…it’s rather like having a baby, isn’t it? Pierre, shall we head out then?  We’ll be back in half an hour.”

“Don’t forget to take the clean-up kit – just in case.”

“Shit.”

“Exactly.  Pierre’s not as regular as you are, so every walk is a surprise.”

“Walking your dog is not the treat I envisioned it to be.”

“As you just said, having a dog is just like having a baby to care for - you never know when they’ll need a diaper change or what you’re going to find when you open it.”

“Believe me, I’ve changed my godchildren’s’ diapers often enough; and you can frequently smell if there’s going to be a right mess inside.”

“And you must really excel at it, given your extra-sensitive nose.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d swear Pierre waits for me to take a poo,” sighed Benedict as the large dog finally led him out of the room and down the stairs. “Cheers!”

Donna got out of bed and opened the blinds to allow the sunlight to stream into the room.  She watched as Pierre strained at the leash as he pulled Benedict along towards Lexington Avenue. 

_My honey thinks this is going to be a short walk.  He hasn’t realized that Pierre has a mind of his own - especially, if he catches the scent of one of his dog friends being walked._

Once they were out of sight, Donna took her time showering and dressing for the day as she figured Benedict would be a gone at least an hour.  After changing and making the bed, Donna went downstairs and set the kitchen table for breakfast.

_Hmmm…I guess I’ll check my emails while Benedict and Pierre are out for their walk.  That coffee actually smells good.  Maybe I’ll muster the courage to try a cup this morning.  I’ve never had Benedict’s coffee to think of it.  He automatically makes me tea in the mornings._

Donna switched on her laptop and got her black and white cow mug.  She noticed that the glass carafe of the coffee maker wasn’t full and the cabinet where she kept the travel mugs had been left wide open.  _Benedict must have taken some coffee with him. The man would die without that first cup of coffee in the morning.  I don’t want to waste it, so I’ll start with a little bit.  
_

Donna poured herself less than half a mugful of the dark, rich-smelling coffee and inhaled the aroma. 

_Wow, this smells potent.  I know Benedict likes it strong, but I have a feeling this could grow hair on my chest as Nona would say. Hahaha!  I’d better add some milk and sugar to this before I try it.  
_

Donna added some milk and a spoonful of demerara sugar before taking a tentative first sip.  She shuddered and grimaced as she stared at the contents of the mug.

_Holy cow!  This isn’t regular coffee!  This tastes like espresso!  How in the hell can this man drink something this potent?  What in the hell am I thinking?  I’ve seen him order a double shot of espresso first thing in the morning many times when we’ve been out. Now, I know why Wanda and Tim always politely refuse his offer of coffee whenever they come to visit him in Hampstead.  It also explains why one of them always insists on making the coffee whenever we’re visiting them in Kensington.  They practically trip over each other trying to beat Benedict to the kitchen.  I get it now.  No wonder they always request tea at his place.  
_

Donna poured the coffee down the drain and made herself a mug of decaf Lipton tea, using the separate tap for hot water.  _Hahaha!  Benedict would have a fit if he saw me drinking tea made from water that wasn’t ‘properly boiled’ in his eyes.  It’s still a whole hell of a lot better than his coffee, which he is welcome to._

After taking her vitamin and birth control pill, Donna signed into Skype.  She noticed that Andrew Scott was signed in as well as James Rhodes, Alice Ackland and Emily.

_I think I’ll say hello to Andrew!  I miss him!_

Before Donna could place the call, there was a knock on her door.

_Jeez Louise!  Benedict sure got back fast or it’s Carly._

Donna went to the door and opened it to find Carly on the other side.  She did not look happy.

“Good Morning.”

“If you can call it that!”

“What’s wrong, Curly Carly?  Don’t tell me you and Steve had a fight.”

“No.  It’s nothing like that.  He’s still sleeping.”

Donna held the door open so Carly could enter the apartment.  “Benedict’s already out and about with Pierre.  Oh, my God!  Is Pierre making too much noise?”

“No, we’re used to him,” replied Carly.  “He just makes me wish we hadn’t given our dog away to Steve’s sister; but we couldn’t take her to London; and Mom and Dad already promised to care for Pierre.”

“How about a cup of tea or a shot of espresso?” Donna asked, leading the way into the kitchen.

“Espresso?”

“Yeah, Benedict calls it coffee, but trust me, its espresso,” laughed Donna.

“I think I’ll try some of Ben’s coffee.  I could use a jolt of caffeine.”

“Okay, but you’ve been warned.”

Carly rolled her eyes as Donna partially filled a mug and handed it to her.  She looked down at the contents and blinked.

“My, how generous you are, Sister.  Don’t I qualify for a full cup?”

“Taste it first.  If you like it, I’ll give you more.  I also strongly advise a healthy dose of milk and sugar.  That should enable you to get it down without gagging too much.”

Carly waved her hand dismissively at Donna.  “Oh, Donna, how you love to be dramatic!”  She took a sip and scowled as if she had swallowed poison.

“Crap!  This is horrible - really, really horrible!”  She poured the contents down the sink and rinsed the mug out.  “You weren’t kidding.  I’ve never had such lousy coffee in my life!”

“How about some tea?”

“Sure.  I’ll have some regular tea and please don’t feel the need to go heating up my mug and dragging out the teapot and boiling the water to the correct temperature,” she giggled.  “The hot water tap is fine with me.”

“Shame on you, Carla!”  Donna mock-scolded her. " I would think you had come to appreciate a properly brewed cup of tea after living in London.”

“I do appreciate it as long as someone else is making it for me. Besides, I see you drinking tea, and there’s no teapot or cow tea kettle out.  I think yours was made with water straight from the hot water tap.”

“Hahaha!  Right you are!  I was feeling too lazy to go through all that.”

“Steve and I had such a good time last night at your engagement party.  Wasn’t that a good idea for Mom and Dad to host it at Jing Fong?  I never would have thought of having dim sum for an engagement party, but it worked.  Everyone seemed to have a blast.”

“Yep, you wouldn’t have expected that many family and friends to show up on such short notice, would you?” scoffed Donna.

“What do you mean?”

“Mom and Dad never planned to throw an engagement party for us in the first place.  The dinner with the immediate family at Bouley was our engagement party. This party was done on the spur of the moment – at Wanda’s suggestion.”

Carly frowned.  “I don’t get it.”

“Benedict overheard Wanda and I talking the other day up in the guestroom about …you know.” 

“No, I don’t know.”

Donna looked nervously over her shoulder. “About what Benedict doesn’t know.”

“Oh, the great lie.”

“We prefer to call it the plan.”

“Jesus Christ, Donna.  You really do need to tell Benedict before the wedding, don’t you think?”

“Look, Carly.  I’ve tried to tell him on three separate occasions, and he’s rebuffed me every single time – and has been getting nastier and nastier about it with each attempt.  He wants to leave what’s happened in our collective pasts in the past, so that’s where it’s going to remain.”

“But you just told me you and Wanda were discussing it.”

“Yes, and that was our mistake.  That man has a talent for overhearing everything he’s not supposed to!”

“I disagree.  I think Ben has a talent for covert observation.  In other words, he loves to sneak up on you and eavesdrop...kind of like what you do!”

Donna ignored her sister’s barbed comment.  “Anyway, in order to cover our tracks, Wanda concocted this excuse that Mom and Dad had planned a surprise engagement party to introduce Benedict to our family and friends here in New York.  So, when Mom and Dad found out…”

“They threw together this party at the last minute in order to distract Benedict.  Holy fucking Christ!  What a tangled web you all weave!  I’m staying out of it.”

“Mom said they figured it would be easy to get in at Jing Fong being it’s so huge.  She goes there often for lunch because it’s close to the court house and knows the owners.  I think they might even be clients of hers.”

“Everyone is a client of Mom's!  Well, that would explain the private dining room.  I emailed you the pictures we took.  You and Ben are a very photogenic couple.  I overheard Ben telling Mom and Dad that his friend is going to act as the photographer for your wedding.” 

“Yes, Tertius Bune.  He was at the party last night, sitting with Benedict’s friends who live here in the city. Tertius is a professional photographer, and his services will be his wedding gift to us.”

“Oh, I know who he is.  He’s the guy who was taking the posed shots of you two.”

“The party that wasn’t meant to be turned out very nice,” smiled Donna.  "I know Ben couldn't stop raving about the variety of the dim sum."

Carly drank some tea.  “I see your computer is on.  Good.”

“I was going to give Andrew a Skype call.  Care to join in?”

“Not now,” said Carly walking over to the table and pulling up a chair.  She moved the mouse around.  “Emily’s signed in and wants to talk to us.”

“Emily?  I see that she's signed on, but why would she want to talk to us?  Did something happen at Carldonn?  Did Heather insult one of our customers?”

“No, it's nothing like that.  All is well at Carldonn, and there have been no Heather incidents."

Donna sighed with relief.  "Thank God!  I wonder what Emily could want."

"I’ve already spoken with her; but I promised I’d talk to you before we call her back together.”

“Oh, no!  She’s given notice?”

“Nope.  Nothing horrible like that.”

“Heather’s given notice?”

“We’re not that lucky,” said Carly with a smirk.  “I should stop making fun, though.  Heather’s done a terrific job, even if she does have one of the most abrasive personalities I’ve ever encountered.”

“As long as she doesn’t have prolonged contact with the customers,” giggled Donna. “When I last spoke with Maria on Skype, she told me that she’s been attempting to train Heather on the fine art of customer service so she doesn’t have to strangle her.”

“I also spoke with Maria on Skype.  She said she believes that Heather isn’t a complete lost cause.  We’re just going to have to treat her as an ongoing challenge…”

“An insurmountable one,” scoffed Donna.

“How about letting me finish?  Maria said we’re going to see a vast improvement in Heather as far as serving the customers goes.”

“Now _that_ I want to see.”

“Me, too. We just have to think of Heather as a ‘work in progress’, Donna.”

“So, what’s with Emily and why didn’t she call me?”

“To be honest, I think she’s afraid of you.”

“ _Me_?  Are you kidding me, Carla?”

“Nope.  Think about it.  When we’re in the store, you always wind up playing the role of bad cop and I’m the good one.”

“What is so terrible that she didn’t want to discuss it with me?”

“Emily asked if she could have some time off for a ‘little family holiday’ as she so quaintly describes it.”

“You mean she wants off for a bank holiday?  The next one is Christmas Day if I recall correctly.”

“No.  She wants a week off.”

“Emily hasn’t been working at Carldonn long enough to warrant taking a vacation, Carly.”

“Apparently, her dad’s coming over here for business, and he’s offered to take the family with him.”

“Here as in New York City?”

Carly sipped her tea and nodded affirmatively.

“When exactly is this trip?” asked Donna.

“This is the part that’s going to make you angry:  They’re arriving tomorrow afternoon and staying through the week.  They depart for London next Sunday morning.”

“No wonder she called you first. Why didn’t Emily just wait until she was at Heathrow getting ready to board the plane to tell us?  Good gravy, there’s nothing like having employees drop shit on you at the last minute. This is just great!”

“I wasn’t thrilled when she told me either, Donna.”

“It’s not fair to leave Maria and George in charge while we’re still here. They already have their hands full with the cooking.  I’m stuck here for God knows how long, and you wanted to stay one more week.”

“You’re forgetting we have Heather and Karl to pitch in.”

“Karl does food prep, assists Maria and George with the cooking and does the primary cleanup.  He rarely waits on the customers.  That leaves us with Heather to wait on the customers, which is like leaving a loose cannon in charge.  There won’t be a business to come back to!”

“Maria did say she’s making progress and that we’ll be pleased with the change behind the counter.  I think they’ll be fine.”

“How do you know this?”

“I called Maria before I came up here to discuss it with you.  Apparently, Emily knew about her dad’s trip for the past three weeks, but was afraid to tell us for fear we’d say no.”

“And she was right to be afraid.  We should say no.”

“Maria feels they can handle it for one week until I get back.  There aren’t any catering jobs on the books for Saturday or Sunday; so they just have Monday thru Friday to get through.  They’ll keep the menu simple.  If Maria felt they couldn’t handle it, she’d say so.”

“That’s true.  Maria isn’t shy when it comes to speaking up for herself.  I just don’t like that Emily decided to tell us – you - at the last minute.”

“Granted.  So, what do you think?  Do we tell her no or let her carry on with her plans?  Even if we say no, Emily still might do what she wants anyway.  It’s not like we can dock her pay because she doesn’t get paid.  There’s no paid vacation or paid anything, so it won’t matter to her.”

“I feel like Emily’s got me backed into a corner because she’s family now.”

“Don’t let that affect your judgement, Donna.  Pretend she’s Heather.”

“If she were Heather, then it would be easy! I'd tell her no way in hell. Emily’s still Benedict’s niece.”

“Who does a great job for us and who Ben practically begged us not to hire in the first place.”

“I also recall not being too keen on the idea originally,” added Donna. “You’re right though.  Both of them are doing a fantastic job.”

“Are you concerned about what Ben will say if we tell her no?”

Donna nodded. “I’ll never hear the end of it from him. Wanda and Tim won’t be happy either that we prevented their granddaughter from spending time with them.  Everyone will be mad at us.”

“I vote to let Emily have the time off with a warning that she’s not to pull a stunt like that again or she’ll be looking for another internship.  That’s not professional behavior.”

“I agree.  Let’s get it over with,” sighed Donna. 

The downstairs doorbell rang, alerting Donna that she had a visitor.

“It must be Benedict and Pierre.  His hands must be full between the leash and the bagels.  Can you buzz them in please, Carly?  I’m going to make some scrambled eggs with cilantro, jalapenos and smoked salmon and we can share my bagel – unless you’ve already had breakfast.”

“No, and that sounds perfect.”

Donna began to gather the ingredients to make the scrambled eggs while Carly went to answer the door.  As Donna was cracking the eggs into a bowl, her sister came running into the kitchen.  Carly also appeared to be slightly agitated.

“What’s wrong?”

“We’re going to have to hold off on that Skype call for a little while, because it wasn’t Benedict and Pierre.  This is company of a different kind.”

“Who is it?  The suspense is killing me!”

“Steel yourself, Sister.  It’s Mom and Wanda and they have a cake box.” _  
_

************************************************

 

Andrew Scott emerged from the lift after returning from spending the weekend at his parents’ home in Dublin to find his partner, Stephen, anxiously waiting for him in the hallway in front of the doorway to their flat.

 _Oh, my!  Such a lovely, warm welcome after being going for only three days!  He’s definitely been missing me,_ thought Andrew happily as he approached his lover wearing a huge smile. _I do love it when he expresses his feelings like this.  
_

“Thank God you’re home!” exclaimed Stephen throwing his arms open wide in order to embrace Andrew.  “My sweet man!”

“Now this is what I call a warm welcome!” said Andrew, rushing to close the gap in between them.

“I’ve been tracking your flight online!  I never thought you’d get here!”

“Blame the tube service. There were minor delays on the Circle Line due to signal problems.” Andrew dropped his duffle bag and backpack and enveloped Stephen in a bear hug.  “How I missed you, my love,” he whispered into the other man’s neck, rubbing his back.

“Not as much as I’ve been missing _you_ ,” Came Stephen’s muffled reply as he held him tightly.

Andrew finally drew back and held his lover at arms’ length.  He regarded the man with concern.  “Why you’re trembling like a leaf, Stephen!  I was scarcely gone three days…”

“It was more than enough,” said Stephen, looking distraught.  “Why?  I keep asking myself that.  Why?”

“Hmmm…let’s see…because it was my dad’s birthday?” Andrew fixed him with a playful look and leaned in to give Stephen a tender kiss.  “I _really_ missed this!”  He kissed him again with more enthusiasm. “I did ask you to come along, did I not?  My parents and sisters send love.  Mum actually sent me back with some of her oatcakes for you.”

“You did ask me, but then we decided that I probably should stay behind to tend to those infernal orchids Benedict's supposed to be minding for Donna.”

“Yes.  Yes, we did.  I explained it all to my family, and they understood perfectly – even though they missed seeing you,” said Andrew shouldering his backpack and picking up his duffle bag.  “Dad really liked the book you sent and sends his thanks.”  He noticed that Stephen was still blocking the doorway to their flat and not budging.  “Could you step aside, Stephen?  I’d like to set this shit down and maybe we could use the rest of the afternoon to get re-acquainted,” he gave Stephen a flirty smile.

The joy on Stephen’s face clouded over as he pointed across the hallway towards Donna’s flat. 

“I don’t think you’re going to want to get re-acquainted with me once you’ve seen what’s befallen our charges.”

Andrew felt a chill travel up his spine, and he dropped his luggage onto the floor. 

_Why do I have the feeling that something’s happened to those insanely expensive flowers, and he’s afraid to tell me? No wonder he’s been acting off._

Andrew took a deep breath, exhaled slowly and steeled himself.  “You don’t mean…”

“Yes, I do.”

“No.”

Stephen nodded sadly. “I’m afraid so, Drew.”

“Oh, please don’t tell me something’s happened to those fucking temperamental orchids,” pleaded Andrew, his voice rising slightly.

Stephen spread his hands in a helpless gesture. “Do you want me to lie to you?  Donna will see them once she’s come home.”

“Oh God.”

“God can’t help us out of this one I’m afraid.  You need to go in and have a look for yourself.”

“Oh God.”

“You already said that.”

“I know.”

“Here's the keycard to the flat so you can see for yourself.  Maybe it’s not as bad as I think it is.”

“Oh God!”

“It’s quite possible that I’m making more of a fuss than necessary.”

Andrew allowed himself to relax a bit.  “Let’s hope so.  Sometimes things seem worse than they actually are.”

“In this case I tend to think not though.  They look pretty wretched to me. I think you really need to have a look.”

“You’re scarring the shit out of me, Stephen!”

“Why don’t you bring you things inside first.”

“Because you’re blocking the door.”

Andrew picked up his bags and followed his partner into their flat.  There was a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.  Stephen tried handing Andrew the keycard to Donna’s flat once again. 

“Here you go. Let me know what you think then.”

“You’re coming with me, Dear One.  I might have questions.”

“I was afraid you might say that,” said Stephen.  “Dead is dead though.”

“Oh, God!”

 

****************************************************

 

The elevator to Donna’s apartment came to a stop and the door silently slid open to reveal Wanda Ventham and Toni Saint James.  The two women stepped out into the empty foyer.  The scent of coffee filled the air.

“That’s a very quiet lift,” remarked Wanda.  “We always know when there’s someone coming up to our floor.”

“It should be given what it cost the original owners. Let me take your coat, Wanda,” offered Toni, shrugging out of hers.

“No welcoming committee for us today,” joked Wanda as she placed the cake box on the small table and removed her coat.  “I guess we’re on our own.”

“Carly said they’d be in the kitchen,” said Toni, taking Wanda’s coat and hanging it up in the small coat closet as the older woman took in her surroundings in order to get her bearings.

“Okay, the kitchen is…”

“There’s no need for directions, I know where it is,” said Wanda. "It's this way."

Before Toni could lead the way, Wanda had picked up the cake box, made a left turn and headed down the hallway towards the kitchen.

 _Hmm…Benedict seems to have given her a very thorough tour with his laptop,_ Toni laughed to herself as she followed Wanda.  _I’m sure she knows where everything is. Heck, she knew exactly where the elevator was when Carly buzzed us in.  
_

Wanda and Toni found Donna and Carly at work in the kitchen.  Donna was busy whisking eggs in a bowl, and Carly was snipping what smelled like cilantro with a kitchen shears.

“Hello you two!” said Wanda cheerfully.  “I hope we didn’t intrude.”

“We got to talking about the wedding and decided to come over here on the spur of the moment,” added Toni.

“Do Dad and Tim know you two decided to take a field trip?” inquired Donna, adding two tablespoons of cream cheese to the eggs and continuing to whisk the mixture.

“They were sleeping so peacefully, we decided not to disturb them,” replied Wanda.  “We left them a note.”

"And baked French toast," added Toni.

“Dad’s going to be pissed when he finds out you came over here to talk about the wedding,” Carly said to Toni. 

“We didn’t come to interfere, Carly.  We come in peace and with cake!” smiled Wanda setting the box on the counter.

“Scones from Alice’s Tea Cup,” proclaimed Toni.  “We took a little detour on the way over here.”

Donna and Carly exchanged glances.  _That was more than a little detour,_ thought Donna.

“Oh!  I love their pumpkin scones!” exclaimed Donna.  “Thank you, Wanda."

"There's also a bag of that apricot brandy tea you like," added Toni.

"Thank you, Mom! Did you two have breakfast yet?  Benedict took Pierre for a walk and to get bagels.  He should be back any minute.”

“I had some oatmeal and half a grapefruit,” replied Toni.

“Toni and I were up early this morning, so I joined her for a bite; but I can always manage a little something,” said Wanda with a bashful grin.

 _A bite???  Who is Wanda kidding? What she ate qualified as a full breakfast!  She had grapefruit, oatmeal and a generous helping of the baked French toast with several slices of bacon,_ thought Toni with amusement.

“Is that smoked salmon?” asked Wanda.

“It’s Darjeeling tea-smoked salmon,” replied Donna.  I’m going to scramble it into the eggs with cilantro and jalapenos.  I had it at a tea house in Washington DC years ago, and make it at home whenever I’ve got leftover smoked salmon.  Benedict often requests it.”

“That sounds brilliant!  Count me in!” said Wanda rubbing her hands together. 

“You’re talking about Teaism in Penn’s Quarter,” said Toni.  “They serve it with naan bread and raita.”

“I can’t help you with the raita; but I just happen to have some leftover onion kulcha and naan downstairs from yesterday’s lunch.  We can warm it in the oven,” said Carly. “Steve and I went out for tandoori chicken, and we always wind up ordering more bread than we can eat.”

“Good idea,” said Donna.

“Be right back,” said Carly, disappearing from the room.

“Help yourselves to some orange juice.  As soon as I finish here, I can make some tea,” offered Donna, melting two pats of butter in a heavy non-stick skillet.

She noticed that Wanda’s eyes were drawn to the coffee maker, and she eyed the dark brown liquid in the carafe suspiciously.

_Oh my gosh!  She’s wondering if Benedict made the coffee!  
_

_I notice my future daughter-in-law has not offered us coffee.  I wonder if Benedict had a hand in making it._

“In case you’re wondering, your son made it,” said Donna with a smirk.

Toni got a mug and went to pour herself some coffee when Wanda quickly walked over and touched Toni’s forearm thus preventing her from picking up the carafe. 

“Believe me when I tell you that you don’t want this coffee, Toni,” said Wanda.  “Unless you fancy espresso.”

Toni frowned at the carafe.  “It does look on the dark side, but I thought perhaps it was made from dark roast beans.”

“I’d take Wanda’s advice, Mom,” laughed Donna, as she poured the beaten eggs into the pan.  “Benedict makes _very_ strong coffee.  Carly and I both sampled some and wound up pouring it right down the drain.”

“My son frankly makes horrible coffee, Toni.  He uses triple what you’re supposed to.  Tim and I always politely refuse it whenever he insists on making it.  Ben happens to be a brilliant cook and can brew tea with the best of them; but he can’t make proper coffee if his life depended upon it!” added Wanda with a grimace. 

“I think I’ll pass on the coffee then,” laughed Toni, as she got out Donna’s cow tea kettle.  “I’ll make us some tea – the English way.”

"Use the apricot brandy tea, Mom," said Donna.

“What can I do to help, Donna?” asked Wanda.

Donna surveyed the table.  “Well, I could use three more place settings.”

“I’ll do it,” said Toni, filling the kettle with cold water and setting it on the stove to boil.

“Sit down and relax, Toni.  I’ll finish laying the table,” said Wanda, going directly to the drawer where Donna kept her silverware. 

Donna and Toni exchanged knowing glances.

_My honey must have given his mother the deluxe Skype laptop tour of my house.  Holy cow!  She seems to know where everything is!  Hahaha!_

“Shall I use the cow beakers or do you fancy the beakers that match your dishes?” asked Wanda.

_I guess Benedict opened all of my cabinets as part of the tour.  Good grief.  I hope to God he didn’t open my underwear drawers so he could show off my racier-looking lingerie._

“The ones that match the dishes please.  They’re in…”

“I know where they are,” said Wanda, going to the cabinet where Donna kept her dishes.  “I feel as if I’ve been here,” she added as an afterthought.

“How do you know all this?” asked Toni finally, as she measured out some of the loose leaf apricot brandy tea into Donna’s cow teapot.

Wanda stopped and looked from Toni to Donna. Her face wore a guilty expression as she decided how to answer them. 

  _Hells bells!  They’ve realized that Ben must have shown me the flat on his laptop._   _They must be thinking how nosy we are._  

“If you must know, I’m responsible,” came Benedict’s deep baritone from the doorway.  “I gave Mum and Dad a video tour of your flat via Skype.”  He crinkled his nose and gave Donna a lop-sided, dimpled smile.

“And what a thorough tour it must have been, Honey,” said Donna sarcastically. “Your mom knows the entire layout of the place.”

“Your flat is even more impressive in person,” said Wanda.  “It’s just lovely.”

Pierre scampered into the kitchen and looked hopefully at Donna, who fed him a few scraps of the salmon.  “Here, boy!  This is going to have to hold you over until lunch.”  She patted his massive head. 

The large dog padded over to Benedict and nudged his hip with his head, causing Benedict to automatically scratch behind the dog’s ears.  Pierre made a low appreciative whine and wandered off to curl up in his dog bed in the corner.

“So, have either of you spoken with Emily yet today?” Wanda inquired innocently. 

“I haven’t,” replied Donna.  _Hmm…she knows that Emily wants to come here._

Benedict shook his head as he poured himself some coffee.  “No.  Anyone fancy a proper coffee?  I made it myself.”

“No!” everyone replied in unison.

 

************************************************

 

Andrew Scott stood in Donna Saint James’s lounge facing the glass wall that looked out over the Thames.  Both of his hands were clamped tightly over his mouth, eyes wide as he stared at the withered orchid plants in disbelief.

“Drew?  It’s been five minutes, and you haven’t said anything,” pointed out a worried Stephen.  “Would you please say _something_ , for God’s sake?  This silence is maddening!”

Andrew’s large chocolate brown eyes slowly moved to his partner, then back to the row of dead potted plants on the floor.   He slowly let his hands hang down by his sides as he felt the bile threaten to rise in his throat.

“I was attempting to keep myself from screaming,” he said quietly.

“Good.  I’m glad you’re under control then.  I was worried that you’d lose it and start to…”

“WHAT IN MOTHERFUCKING HELL WERE YOU THINKING, STEPHEN?  DID I NOT LEAVE VERY SPECIFIC INSTRUCTIONS AS TO WHAT TO DO WITH THESE FUCKING THINGS?  FOR FUCKS SAKE HOW ON EARTH DID THIS HAPPEN?”

“Well…”

“I WAS ONLY GONE FOR TWO AND A HALF DAYS!  TWO AND A HALF DAYS!”

“I _can_ count, Drew.  There’s no need for cheek.”

“CHEEK?  THIS ISN’T ABOUT ME BEING CHEEKY, STEPHEN!  THIS IS ABOUT ME TRYING NOT TO PISS MYSELF!”

“The loo is just down the hallway.  I don’t think I could deal with a soiled carpet _and_ dead plants.”

“HOW CAN YOU STAND THERE AND TAKE THE PISS AND NOT BE UPSET ABOUT THIS?”

“I’m just as upset as you are, Drew.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Then beg all you like.  You weren’t here to see my reaction this morning when I came in to move them into the sun.  Now, stop yelling like a madman, take a deep breath and try and calm down.  Please.”

Andrew stood with his hands on his hips as his eyes continued to wander over the dead plants.  Then he turned his gaze on Stephen.

“How can you be so CALM?  It’s infuriating is what it is!”

“Having both of us get hysterical will do nothing to help the situation, Drew.”

“I’m _not_ hysterical,” insisted Andrew.  “I’m…I’m…I’m trying to be in denial here!”

“Whilst I’m trying my best to be calm for both of us.  Please get a hold of yourself, Drew!”

Andrew bent down and rested his hands on his thighs. He took several deep breaths as Stephen gently massaged his shoulders. 

“Better?”

“Fuck no.”

“Well, it did _some_ good.  At least you stopped shrieking like a banshee.”

“I wasn’t shrieking.  I don’t shriek,” insisted Andrew, standing up straight.

Stephen fixed him with a look.  The corners of his mouth threatened to turn up into a smile.  “I beg to differ.”

“Was I _really_ shrieking?” 

Stephen nodded. “And you did a right brilliant job of it.  Well done you.”

“Shit.  I’m so sorry, Love.  I’m just…well…look at them!  Donna’s going to freak when she sees them, and they’re not even hers.  They belong to Marco, the bloke whom she sublets this flat from.”

“Yeah, I have to agree that she’ll be less than pleased with you,” sighed Stephen.

“You mean she’ll be less than pleased with _you_.  I entrusted _you_ with their care whilst I was in Dublin.  They were thriving when I left.”

“I don’t know what happened.  I followed your notes to the letter, Drew.”

Andrew squatted down to inspect the plants closely.  He felt the soil and frowned. “They’re shriveled, yet the soil is wet.  I don’t understand what went wrong.”

“I followed your instructions to the letter.  I only gave them water if the soil was dry, and I made sure to place them here in front of the windows in order to get the full sun.  You did say they needed plenty of direct sunlight.”

Andrew hit his forehead with the heel of his hand.  “I said they needed plenty of _indirect_ sunlight!  You were also supposed to let the excess water drain into the plates underneath the pots and pour it off.  They've been sitting in puddles of water all this time.  Christ!”

“You didn’t say that.  You said to give them water so the soil is wet.  That was all.”

“True, but then you’re supposed to get rid of the excess.  The fucking roots must be rotted away.”  Andrew wrapped his fingers around the plant nearest to him and pulled up gently.  The plant came right out of the pot.  “Fuck me!  This is root rot!  These plants cost a small fortune, Stephen.  Not only is Donna going to be rightfully pissed, but Marco as well.”

“I’m sorry for cocking it up, Drew.  You know I didn’t do it on purpose.”

Andrew returned the plant to the pot and straightened up.  “I know you didn’t, Baby.  It’s just that I dread telling Donna.”

“Who said you have to tell her anything?”  

Andrew reeled and glared at his partner.  “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that, Stephen.  Are you daft??? I have to tell her!  There’s nothing worse than to be the one responsible for having to spoil her holiday.  She put her complete trust in Ben, and he in me, and I’ve failed them both.”

“No, I’m the one who failed them.  I over-watered them and put them out in the direct sunlight for hours at a time.”

“Did you say hours???”

“Well, until the sun set.  Then I moved them back.”

“Shit.”

Neither man said anything for a full minute.

“Technically we both did our part to cock it up, Stephen.”

“It was a simple case of miscommunication between us.”

“Try telling that to Donna.”

Stephen touched Andrew’s shoulder gently.  “At the risk of provoking your ire once again, who says she ever has to find out?”

Andrew started to open his mouth when Stephen cut him off. 

“How about listening to what I have to say before you go off half-cocked again?  I’ve got an idea that I think just might work and keep us in Donna’s good graces.”

Andrew looked at the plants and sighed heavily.  He regarded his partner with a raised eyebrow.  “Care to elaborate?”

“When I was in Sainsbury’s this morning, I saw they had orchids in their plant department for five quid each.”

“Donna told me these are very rare orchids, Stephen.  Very rare and expensive orchids.  I have a feeling Marco will know the difference.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that.  Why don’t you come out with me and see for yourself?  I personally couldn’t tell the difference.”

“You’re not an expert when it comes to orchids, and I’m willing to bet neither is Donna.”

“It’s Marco I’m concerned about.  He’ll know for sure.”

“Maybe, maybe not.  Marco’s been gone for almost a year now from what Donna’s told me.  It’s not like he’s been here to see them on a daily basis.  Things aren’t always exactly as we remember them.”

“I want more than anything to believe you’re right, Stephen.”

“It won’t do any harm to take a walk over to Sainsbury’s.  You might find that you’re pleasantly surprised.”

“Alright then – I suppose it’s worth a look.  Let’s lock up here and see what Sainsbury has to offer.”

“We can also get a takeaway for dinner from Wasabi on the way back.”

“If you’re right, I might find I even want to get re-acquainted with you afterwards,” said Andrew Scott with a slight smile as the couple left Donna Saint Jameses flat.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I've been looking forward to having Andrew back in the story. In this universe his partner is Stephen Beresford, who is rumored to be his partner in real life. I have to admit that I got mixed up with the continuity - not sure if I had Benedict originally plant sitting or if Donna has asked Andrew being he lived right across the hall. 
> 
> 2\. I love Alice's Tea Cup. There are three branches in NYC. Their apricot brandy tea is my personal favorite and they use it to infuse their baked French toast, which is only served on weekends and pictured above. The scones are huge and come in a variety of unusual flavors. 
> 
> 3\. I don't know if the Sainsbury's in Paternoster Square sells plants, as I was only inside it once and can't remember. In this universe they do.
> 
> 4\. Teaism has three locations in Washington DC. My family and I loved their breakfast. They have great sourdough waffles and their scrambled eggs and tea-smoked salmon served with naan was delicious. I have Donna mixing the salmon in with the eggs in the story. In reality they serve it on the side.
> 
> 5\. I know nothing about the care and feeding of plants aside from what I picked up doing a little research.


	144. Chapter 144

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanda saves the day for Emily and recants the story of her wedding to Timothy. Benedict gets a lesson in scones and wedding gown shopping. Donna receives good and bad news from London. Stephen proposes a plan that causes Andrew to have second thoughts. 
> 
> Note: I’ll be using ********* for things happening at the same time.

 

Benedict Cumberbatch lifted the lid off the box from Alice’s Teacup and surveyed its contents.  Each one was almost the size of his palm.

“Blimey! These aren’t proper scones,” he scoffed.

“Of course they are,” insisted Toni with a dismissive wave of her hand.  “They’re just not what you’re used to.  Alice’s bakes some of the best scones in the city.”

“There’s ham and cheddar, butterscotch banana, buttermilk, blackberry almond, chocolate Oreo…,” rattled off Wanda, pointing out each one in the box.

“Chocolate scones with pieces of crème-filled biscuits in them,” murmured Benedict.  “That’s sacrilege. What’s that one with the gooey stuff on top?”

“ _Pumpkin_ with caramel glaze,” finished Wanda, looking up pointedly at her son.  “The bird behind the counter assured me that this was their signature scone.”

Benedict looked into his mother’s twinkling ice blue eyes and tried to contain the laughter welling up inside him.  

_Mum must be thinking the same thing I am.  More pumpkin, bless them.  Why can’t they just make traditional plain and raisin scones?_

“Bloody hell!  These are as big as my fist,” chortled Benedict, poking at the plain one.

“They’re not traditional scones in the sense that you’re referring to,” said Donna, as Carly added the salmon, cilantro and diced jalapeno peppers to the eggs so she could gently fold them in. “But they’re still delicious!  Why don’t you try one first before making fun?”

“You’re right, Love.  I should taste one before having a go at them.”

“I like some variety in my scones,” chimed in Toni.  “I find the plain ones boring.”

“They’re meant to be plain so you can appreciate the various condiments, such as the clotted cream and jam,” explained Wanda.

“What’s this one again, Mum?” inquired Benedict, pointing to one of the scones.

“Butterscotch and banana,” replied Wanda.

“These remind me of when you two make the scone of the day in all the weird…I mean different flavours,” Benedict said to Donna and Carly.

“Which you’ve enjoyed countless times,” added Donna with a smile.  “You told me two weeks ago that you thought the cranberry-orange scones I saved for you to try were fantastic – unless that was someone else I’m thinking of.”

“No, it was me,” admitted Benedict.  “They were delectable.  The orange zest made them pop.”

“I actually fancy the different fruit ones,” said Wanda.  “The strawberry ones are my favourites.”

“That was when Emily bought the flat of strawberries at Borough Market because it was the end of the day and they were reduced, which led to our First Annual Strawberry Week,” said Carly. “Thankfully, it turned out to be a huge success!”

“You started to hyperventilate when Emily told us,” Donna reminded her.

“I sure as shit would have,” commented Benedict, breaking off a corner of the banana scone and popping it into his mouth.

“Oh, you both must have been beside yourselves!” exclaimed Wanda.   “I certainly hadn’t a clue that was what inspired you birds to have a strawberry week.  I thought it was a genius idea when I came around that morning and found all those delightful strawberry treats. Emmy never said a word about it.”

“I imagine she wouldn’t have,” giggled Benedict.  “It doesn’t sound as if it were one of her finer moments.”

“Au contraire, Mon Cher!” said Donna, wagging a finger at Benedict.  “We managed just fine thanks to our super creative chefs: Maria and George.”

“They certainly warmed to the challenge!” chimed in Carly.  “I was stunned to see they come up with so many creative ways to use the berries.”

“That’s right, Curly Carly.  They made strawberry scones and muffins, strawberry jam, strawberry lemonade, chilled strawberry soup, strawberry-rhubarb crisp and chicken salad with strawberries and poppy seed dressing.  We were very lucky that it was so well-received. We’re going to try a Pumpkin Week when I get back – provided Emily can conjure up enough canned pumpkin.”

“I’m sure you two can come up with plenty of pumpkin recipes,” laughed Toni. 

“That’s right,” said Carly.  She smiled at Donna as if thinking the same thing about the strawberries.  “We’re changing things up in Paternoster Square.  Plain and raisin scones get boring day after day.”

“Claridges’ has apple scones on their tea tray,” pointed out Wanda.  “I’ll have to take you both one afternoon to try them.”

“Two weeks ago their scone of the day contained bits of Stilton and cranberries,” said Benedict.  “That one wasn’t boring by any definition.”

“May I remind you that the scone of the day _always_ sells out,” added Donna proudly, as she scooped the eggs into a serving bowl.  “Not all Englishmen have the same hankering for tradition that you do at times, _Honey_.”

_And that, Benedict, was your fiancée’s sarcastic version of Honey. She’s not pleased with me right now.  It’s time for me to stop being snarky._

“Well, I, for one am looking forward to trying them,” declared Wanda. “By the way, I wanted to thank you both for going out of your way to give your puddings a British flair on Thanksgiving,” she said to Donna and Carly. “Tim and I were very touched by your creativity and appreciate it.”

“It was our pleasure,” said Carly.  “Donna thought it would be a nice gesture to make you all feel more at home here.”

“I thought it was such a lovely way to blend our two cultures together,” continued Wanda.

“Everyone raved about the desserts this year,” added Toni, studying Donna.  “They were very impressed _.”   It’s amazing that you and Benedict were able to pull off what you did.  Scarlett told me the next morning that Charlie had regaled her and Kenny with a report of what a sordid mess you made of the desserts over breakfast._

Donna caught Benedict’s gaze.  He smiled coyly at her and winked as if to say:  _W_ e _pulled it off.  Well done us_.

“Benedict must take most of the credit as he acted as our creative consultant,” said Donna.  “These were all his ideas on how to adapt our traditional desserts into not-so-traditional ones.”

“Well done, Ben!” said Wanda.  “He’s always been very creative in the kitchen.”  _Had there been a salad bar open that day, I bet he would have been even more inventive. Charlie told Tim all about the puddings whilst he was reading him The Hobbit before bed that night.  
_

Donna, Carly and Benedict exchanged knowing looks. 

_They all must know what happened.  Charlie spilled the beans for sure.  Mom and Wanda are just trying to be gracious about it, and I appreciate that._

“Mom also brought us a bag of my favorite tea from Alice’s.  Their apricot brandy tea.”

Benedict raised both eyebrows at her.  _She bought it for you, Sweetheart; not me.  
_

Toni offered the open bag to Benedict to sniff.  “Doesn’t it smell divine?”

“Benedict is a tea purist.  He won’t like it,” retorted Donna.

Toni laughed.  “I didn’t think there was anything you didn’t like, Benedict.”

“He hates it whenever I make different teas, like Roasted Caramel Apple or Toasted Coconut Marshmallow,” clarified Donna. “He prefers I stick to the basics.”

“Some of those teas you bring home are too exotic for my taste.”

“Almond Sugar Cookie is not exotic.  It’s just black tea with almond flakes.”

“I won’t lie, I prefer Earl Grey or Dad's special blend over all others, but to be fair, I’ve been perfectly receptive to trying other _exotic_ blends, have I not, Sweetheart?”

“S’mores tea and White Chocolate Mousse do not qualify as exotic teas,” scoffed Donna.  “The s’mores is black tea with graham cracker, mini marshmallows and chocolate bits and the white chocolate mousse is also black tea with vanilla and caramel bits.”

"What was that special Easter tea?" Benedict asked Donna.

"OH!  YES!  The Chocolate Peanut Butter Egg tea! That's one of my favorites! It was black tea with bits of chocolate and peanut butter chips."

“I rest my case,” laughed Benedict. 

“Humph!  I suppose my beloved chocolate mint tea falls into that category. I never realized I had raised such a tea snob!” chortled Wanda.  “A tea snob who keeps a box of  PG Tips sachets in his cupboard for when he’s short on time to brew a pot,” laughed Wanda.  “PG Tips is our version of your Lipton.”

“I meant that I don’t especially fancy having certain flavours interfering with the taste of my tea – like chocolate.  Chocolate and tea do not belong as far as I’m concerned.”

“Humor me, Benedict, and give this one a try,” said Toni, handing the bag to him.  “I think you might like it.”

Benedict took a whiff.  “Hmmm…it’s a black tea base with dried apricot bits and a hint of brandy flavouring.  It smells rather good actually.”

Wanda glanced from Donna to Carly to Toni and rolled her eyes.  She then cleared her throat.  “Have either of you spoken with Emily today?”

Donna and Carly exchanged glances as her mother and Wanda took their places at the table. 

“I spoke with her earlier this morning,” replied Carly.  “Why?”

“She’s told you about the trip then yes?”  Wanda inquired as she helped herself to a generous portion of the fluffy scrambled eggs and passed the bowl to Toni.

“What trip?” inquired Benedict, curiosity peaked as he checked the strength of the tea.  Satisfied, he removed the strainer containing the leaves from the teapot and set it in the sink.

“Derrick’s company is sending him here for a week to attend a seminar.  Tracy and the girls are coming along with him,” explained Wanda.  “Derrick thought it would be lovely if the whole family could make a nice little pre-Christmas holiday out of it.  Well, everyone, except for Emmy.  She’s waiting to hear if she can have the time off,” Wanda added quickly, casting a meaningful look at Carly and Donna.

Benedict stood at the counter, pouring tea into the beakers.  “When are they coming exactly?”

“Tracy said they’re taking the first flight out of Heathrow in the morning and arrive at JFK tomorrow afternoon.  Derrick’s company arranged for a car service to meet their flight and take them to their hotel.  They’ll be staying at the London NYC on West 54th Street.”

“Oh, those are nice digs!” exclaimed Carly, placing the mugs of steaming tea on the table. “They have a great afternoon tea there, too.  Gordon Ramsey oversees the restaurants.”

“For fucks sake!  Emmy hasn’t been working at Carldonn all that long to merit a holiday,” scoffed Benedict, pausing to sneakily break off a corner of the chocolate Oreo scone.  “I’d tell her to bugger off if it were up to me.”  He then broke off a bit of he blackberry scone when he thought no one was looking.  Meanwhile, unbeknownst to Benedict, Donna had been watching him from the corner of her eye the whole time with growing amusement. 

_Good gravy!  I’d better get those on a plate before my honey finishes sneaking a taste here and a taste there.  There' will be nothing left!_

Donna and Carly exchanged surprised glances.  Neither of them had expected Benedict to make such a statement.

“To be honest, we’re not happy that Emily decided to break the news to us at the last minute,” declared Donna, opening a cabinet and taking out a rectangular plate with cows painted along the borders.  She handed it to Carly. “Would you mind giving this to Benedict so he can plate the scones being he’s already got his hands in them?”

_Christ on a crutch!  Donna’s caught me nicking tastes of these bloody scones, which aren’t half-bad.  I hadn’t a clue she was watching me, bless her._

Benedict guiltily swallowed the piece of the ham and cheddar scone and crinkled his nose at Donna as he smiled his most charming smile at her.  She in turn rolled her eyes at him. 

“What’s bothering us is that Emily apparently knew about this trip three weeks ago and obviously bought her airline ticket already. We can hardly refuse her the time off,” added Carly, taking a seat at the table beside Toni.

“Of course you can,” interjected Benedict.  “She’s the one responsible for placing you two in a tight spot. It takes bollocks to do something like that, and there’s no reason for you two to feel the slightest bit guilty about denying her the time off for a holiday she hasn’t earned yet.”

“Remind me not to ever work for you, you hard-ass!” Donna said teasingly to Benedict. 

“I’m just minding your best interests, Darling.”

Donna took the plate of scones from Benedict and placed them on the table.

_I didn’t expect him to feel that way.  I thought for sure he’d be encouraging me to give in being Emily’s his niece._

_My son needs to shut his big mouth_ , though Wanda angrily _.  I realize he’s spouting off like that because he cares about Donna’s business suffering from being under-staffed.  However, I told Emmy I’d make things right; and I intend to keep my promise._

“Emmy’s really looking forward to coming over and experiencing all the sights and sounds of Christmas in New York,” clarified Wanda. 

“We have similar sights and sounds in London,” retorted Benedict.  “The shop windows are all done up just like here. There are Christmas markets and shows, not to mention…”

_Hells bells!  Leave it to Barrister Ben to point out all the similarities,_ thought Wanda with annoyance. 

“Tracy and the girls are looking forward to spending time with _you_ , Donna.  They are longing to experience New York City at Christmas together.”

“I’m sure they are,” said Donna, feeling a pang of guilt. “And I’d love to play tour guide, but Emily’s leaving Carldonn short-staffed.”

“When would we ever get another opportunity for all of us to spend time together like this?” continued Wanda, almost pleadingly.

“There’s every possibility that Donna might be back in London in time for Christmas, Mum.  Why if that doesn’t pan out, there’s still New Years’ – most of the Christmas activities and displays will still be going on until then.  There’s plenty of time for holiday togetherness,” pointed out Benedict, unwrapping his bagel and taking a bite.

Wanda made eyes at her son to be quiet, but Benedict seemed or chose not to notice or care. 

_For fucks sake!  Thank God he has something to occupy his mouth with besides doing his best to cock up my plan!  I wish Tim were here…maybe not._

“Tracy and the girls have never been to New York at Christmas time.  It’s such a magical time of year,” persisted Wanda.  “Don’t you agree, Toni?”

“Oh, definitely!  There’s no place like New York City during the holidays,” agreed Toni.

“It’s just as magical in London, Mum.  I’ll make sure to take Emmy around to see all the Christmas sights whilst you’re all still here,” offered Benedict, forking up some of the egg and tea-smoked salmon mixture. 

“I feel so sad to think what Emmy might be missing out on, Ben.”

“Tracy and Jenn can see it and take photos to send her.  If Emmy were to come, who’s minding the store in her absence then?” asked Benedict, staring at Wanda pointedly. 

“Well…”

“There’s no one, Mum.  Only the cooks and kitchen help are left.”

“And Heather,” scoffed Donna, sitting in the vacant chair next to Benedict.  Pierre immediately raised his head and wandered over to stand beside her, hoping for a treat off the table.

“And we all know what a fine and splendid example of customer service Heather is.  She’s set the bar punishingly high,” chortled Benedict.  “You would have no customers left after leaving her in charge for a week!  Have any of you considered that?”

_Hells bells! Barrister Ben is in full cross-examination mode.  I need to get to the point and soon,_ thought Wanda. _Now would be the perfect time for Toni to play her part._ Wanda nudged Toni’s foot with her own.

“Maria said they can make do for a week,” replied Carly.  “However, it’s just the principle.”

“It’s not professional behavior,” added Donna.  “The whole idea of our intern program is for Emily to learn how to be the best responsible employee she can be.”

“Flying over here on a whim and leaving Carldonn insufficiently staffed isn’t responsible,” said Benedict. 

“Donna, isn’t Giada coming in for work and a shopping trip?” interrupted Toni.

Donna visibly brightened at the mention of her friend.  “Yeah.  That’s right.  She arrives Friday!”

“Well, it seems to me that this coming weekend will be a golden opportunity for you to take advantage of having your whole bridal party together in the same place at the same time,” said Toni, smiling at Wanda, who nodded a silent agreement.  “I’m guessing that Wanda’s thinking the same thing that I am, am I right?”

Benedict looked from Toni to Wanda through narrowed eyes.  _And I bet I’m also thinking the same thing, Antonia.  This smells of a set up to me. Let’s see if I’m right._

_Well done, you, Toni.  I can take it from here now,_ thought Wanda. 

“Absolutely,” confirmed Wanda.  “What better time than this, yes?”

“Okay, I’m lost here,” said Donna.  “What are you two hinting at?”

“This isn’t hinting, Love,” murmured Benedict, side-eyeing his mother and future mother-in-law.  “This is a carefully planned set up by both of them.”

“Isn’t it obvious? It would be the perfect time to go shopping for your wedding and bridesmaid frocks!” blurted out Wanda, unable to contain herself.

“Holy cow!  That’s a wonderful idea! I never even considered that!” cried Donna.  “Isn’t it too soon though?”

“It’s never too soon.  Wedding gowns take time to make,” replied Carly.  “Brides’ Magazine recommends a time frame of one year to six months before the wedding.”

“So we’ll be in that window next week,” added Toni.  “You know, Wanda, we can even do a bit of shopping for our own dresses.”

“What a brilliant suggestion, Toni!  Just think of all the fun we’ll have together,” chimed in Wanda.  “What a special, memorable day it will be for all of us.  We can have lunch or afternoon tea in between sessions and go out for drinks and dinner afterwards to celebrate!”

“Mum!” snarled Benedict. “What about Donna and Carly telling Emmy that she can’t have off?”

“Nonsense!” snapped Wanda.  “Emmy’s in the wedding party.  Of course she has to be here!”

“Oh, yes! I want Emily here!” exclaimed Donna.  “What a great idea!”

_And I was right.  Mum and Antonia working together, bless them.  It’s amazing how well they can get along when they have a common goal.  
_

“Jolly good work, Mum!  Mission accomplished in record time.  I’m glad to see you haven’t lost your touch,” muttered Benedict disgustedly under his breath.  “Is it a wonder why Dad refers to you as the Commander all the time?”

_Ha! Your father has taken to referring to me as the Commander for entirely different reasons,_ thought Wanda, suppressing a laugh.  _Which you don’t want or need to know about._

“We need to seize the bull by the horns!  I can call now and make an appointment for us to meet with Vera Wang on Saturday.  I have her cell number,” suggested Toni.

“We need an appointment just to go to her store?” asked Wanda. 

“No, but we do if we’re going to meet with Vera in her design showroom, which is above her flagship store,” replied Toni.  “There will be nothing but the best for my daughter - unless you prefer another designer, Muffin.  I recall you always saying that you liked Vera’s style,” she added quickly.

“I still do,” confirmed Donna.  “It’s just that…”

“Oh, just think – a bespoke wedding frock made just for you by a world famous designer!  It’s bound to be so very, very lovely!” Sighed Wanda dreamily.

_Hmmm…a bespoke wedding gown that’s bound to cost thousands of pounds,_ thought Benedict.  _That money can and should be better spent._

Donna held up her hand.   “Wait a minute, ladies.  Mom, while I appreciate your offer to buy me a custom-made gown designed by Vera Wang herself, I don’t need or want one.  I’m being practical here…”

_That’s my girl,_ thought Benedict, flashing an approving smile at Donna and patting her hand.  _Always the practical one, bless her._

“Now isn’t the time to be practical, Muffin.  I want you to have your dream gown,” insisted Toni.  “We’ll meet with Vera in the morning at her showroom and use the afternoon to pick out the bridesmaids gowns downstairs in the store.  Those can be off-the-rack. ”

“As long as it’s not yellow or orange,” said Carly.  “I look awful in those colors.”

“I thought we could just go to Kleinsfeld Bridal and buy off-the-rack, Mom.  That way we can get everything off-the-rack. They have a huge selection of gowns in all price ranges – even Vera Wang gowns.”

“Cousin Cheryl went to Kleinsfeld,” said Carly. “The only drawback to going there is that they only allow two or three people to go with you.  They won’t accommodate the entire bridal party.”

Donna looked disappointed.  “I guess that means you, Mom and Wanda.”

Carly nodded.  “If it’s only two, then you’ll have to cut one of us out.”

“I don’t have to go,” said Toni.

_Oh, stop trying to play the martyr, Mom!  You know damn well that it wouldn’t be you, but I don’t want to have to cut Wanda or Carly either._

“You should have your sister with you, Donna,” said Wanda.  “She’s going to be the Chief Bridesmaid.”

“But you’re going to be my mother-in-law,” said Donna.  “It’s very important to me that you be there as well, Wanda.”

“It’s okay, Donna,” said Carly.  “It should be Mom and Wanda who go with you.  I can give my input via text.  Mom can take photos of the gowns that you’re considering and email them to me.  It will be almost as if I were there.”

“But what about Nona?  Nona has to be there!” said Donna.  “I wouldn’t dream of excluding her!  I want her input, too!”

“Then I’ll back out,” offered Wanda.  “Your gran should be there, I agree.”

“Nona, Wanda and Carly will all be there,” declared Toni emphatically.  “Leave it to me to handle Kleinfeld’s – if that’s where you truly want to go.”

“I do, Mom.”

“I still think you’re nuts to turn down a custom-made designer dress,” Carly whispered to Donna.  “Mom and Dad want to do this for you. You’re denying them their chance to make you happy!”

“I can still get a Vera Wang dress at Kleinfeld’s, Carla.”

Toni peered at Donna over the rim of her mug.  “Tell you what, Muffin.  Why don’t you take the rest of the day to reconsider my offer to have Vera design your dress?  After all, I have her cell number and am welcome to call her after hours.”

“I take it she’s a client of yours yes?” asked Benedict, already knowing the response.

“For the past twenty years,” replied Toni. 

“I already made up my mind, Mom.  I can’t see being so extravagant for a dress I’m only going to wear once in my life then pack up in a box to store in the attic and maybe pull out to look at once in a while,” declared Donna.

“You could pass it down to a daughter or granddaughter one day,” suggested Wanda.  “I think that would be a splendid idea!”

“Did you do that with your wedding gown, Wanda?” inquired Carly.

Benedict giggled.  “I sincerely doubt Tracy would have fancied wearing Mum’s maternity jeans and braces.”

“As a matter of fact, I did,” replied Wanda, ignoring Benedict.  “My daughter wore the frock I wore for my first marriage.  My second wedding was more… _casual,_ as Ben just pointed out.”

_Bless his big mouth.  Look at their faces.  They can’t believe they’re hearing that.  Nothing is sacred with my son._

“You mean that photo of you and Tim in your living room, wearing the turtleneck, jeans, suspenders and flannel shirt is your wedding photo?” asked Toni incredulously.

Wanda nodded.  “That it is.  I saw no need to go the wedding frock and morning suit route the second time around, especially being I was six months along at the time.”

“What about Tim?” asked Toni.  “I take it this was his first marriage.”

“Yes, it was; but having a big, splashy wedding wasn’t as important to him as the fact that we were finally getting married.  It was rather spur of the moment.  I kept resisting getting married again as my first marriage was such a bloody disaster; but Tim, bless him, kept proposing.  He said he figured sooner or later he’d wear me down.   Then when we found out we were expecting, it became even more important to him that we marry before Ben was born.”

“Dad’s very traditional like that,” added Benedict with a fond smile.  “He’s a romantic, old soul at heart.”

“And you’re just like him, Love,” smiled Wanda, reaching out to pat his hand.  “Anyway, after I finally said yes, we went and took out a marriage license and gave notice.  We had planned on having something small with our immediate families in attendance; but one morning whilst Tracy and I were folding the wash, Tim walked into the lounge and said to me:  ‘Let’s do it today, Wanda.  Get your handbag and let’s go down to the Registrar’s Office in Chelsea.  They’ve an opening at half eleven. We’ll ask Geoff and Diana to meet us there and be our witnesses, and Tracy will be your Chief Bridesmaid.’  So, we bought the bouquets and my wedding ring on the way, and suddenly - there we were stood before the Registrar within the hour in jeans and trainers.  Afterwards Geoff and Diana insisted on treating the five of us to lunch at our favourite Italian restaurant, being we had no intentions of having a posh catered wedding breakfast.  Our honeymoon consisted of a weekend in Botany Bay near Kent at an inn within walking distance of the beach. It was absolutely lovely.”

“I love that your daughter acted as your Maid of Honor,” declared Carly.  “Tracy must have been very excited.”

Wanda nodded.  “That she was.  Tracy has always been one of Tim’s biggest supporters and wanted to see us married more than anything.”

“That’s so romantic, Wanda!” exclaimed Donna.  “I love how simple and practical you two were about it…”

_I hope to hell my daughter isn’t getting any ideas from Wanda and Tim’s Ultra Casual Wedding_ , thought Toni worriedly.

“The whole shebang cost under a thousand quid,” confirmed Wanda proudly.  “My ring was the most expensive thing we bought that day.”

“…and there were no arguments or debates on where to have it and how to do it.  You and Tim were very fortunate to have a stress-free wedding.  How I envy you!” continued Donna, smiling at Benedict.

_Crap.  I need to shut up, and let Donna make her own decisions_ , thought Toni.  _It was never my intent to stress out my own daughter. Why does this always happen to me?  Perhaps because it allows me to live my dream wedding.  
_

Benedict glanced from his mother to his fiancée.  Donna had been hanging on every one of Wanda’s words.  Suddenly, her hazel eyes met his briefly as if asking him what his thoughts were on the subject. _  
_

_Fuck me! I hope Donna isn’t getting any ideas about eloping.  I’d be right crushed if we didn’t have a proper wedding with all the trimmings. I’ve longed for this since I was twelve!  
_

Wanda barked out a laugh and quickly covered her mouth.  “Pardon my outburst, Donna; but there was still an abundance of stress and rows to go around.  It just happened afterwards is all.  It began as soon as we rang everyone up to share our good news.  Our parents weren’t pleased that we married without them being present, nor were our siblings.  Finally - after much badgering - my mother-in-law persuaded us to allow her to host a small wedding breakfast in our honour three weeks later at Simpson’s-on-the-Strand in one of their private dining rooms.”

“Simpson’s-on-the-Strand,” repeated Donna.  “I’ve never heard of it.”

“Shame on you!” teased Benedict.  “How can a food critic not know about Simpson’s?”

“Well, this one doesn’t.  Tell me about it, please.”

“They are renowned for their proper Scottish beef roasts, which are aged for twenty-eight days.  Then the meats are carved at guests’ tables, from antique silver-domed trolleys, by their ‘Master Carvers’ in a perfect example of restaurant theatre. We need to go there.  You’d adore it.”

“You know, Donna, there is always going to be some stress – regardless of whether your wedding is large or small,” remarked Wanda.  “Impromptu or planned out to the last detail, it doesn’t matter.  There will always be some sort of stress.”

_Yes, stress of the Wanda and Antonia variety,_ thought Benedict glumly. 

“And you don’t regret not having a large wedding, Wanda?” asked Carly suddenly

“Not one bit,” replied Wanda.  “Tim and I had decided that being we had a baby due in three months’ time that the money could be used for the expenses associated with having a child.  Besides, I was able to look at it from both sides being my first wedding was a large catered affair.  If I had to do it again, I would definitely choose the small, intimate wedding.”

“See, Mom, sometimes it does pay to be practical about money,” added Donna.

_I wish Wanda would stop endorsing the small wedding,_ thought Toni.  _Donna has always dreamed of a large one._

“This is not the time to be practical, Muffin.  This is a time for indulging your dreams,” snapped Toni, patience wearing thin.  “I want you to put aside all this talk of money and buy whatever your heart desires.  If Dad were here, I know he’d say the same.”

_Jesus fucking Christ!  Antonia is pushing Donna into that bespoke dress whether she fancies it or not,_ thought Benedict _.  There’s nothing wrong with her being practical.  
_

“Muffin does make a good and valid point,” remarked Benedict.  “She’s only going to wear the bloody thing once, so why spend thousands of pounds?”

Toni, Wanda and Carly all regarded him as if he had suddenly grown another head. 

_Just because I chose to marry Tim wearing jeans and trainers doesn’t mean Donna needs to go that route,_ thought Wanda.  _She can still have a beautiful gown and not spend a fortune.  
_

“I don’t want you to get the idea that I’m advocating not having a bespoke gown, Donna.  I think it’s lovely for your parents to make such a generous offer,” began Wanda.  “Every situation is different. Tim and I did what was best for us in our particular situation.  Yours and Benedict’s is quite a different one.”

“Mum, I think…”

Donna nudged Benedict with her elbow to be quiet.  _Ben needs to turn the mouth filter back on.  He hasn’t a clue what wedding gown shopping is all about._

“In answer to your question as to why spend all that money on a dress that may only be worn once:  Because that’s what dreams are made of, Benedict,” snarled Toni.  “And since Neil and I have the funds saved up to make our daughter’s wedding dreams come true, why the hell not?”

“Well, for one, Antonia, that money could be better spent.  For example…”

Benedict suddenly stopped speaking when he felt Wanda stomp on his foot.

_For fucks sake!  That hurt like a bitch!  Mum’s in favour of the bespoke gown. I was only going to say that Donna and I could put that money towards a new home._

“Thank you for your input, _Barrister_ , on something you don’t know a fucking flaming fig about,” Wanda said curtly.  “Pardon my choice of words,” she said demurely to Toni and Carly.  “Your mother happens to be right, Donna. Think of this as a special treat from your parents. Don’t worry and choose whatever frock you fancy.”

“And stop bitching about what it costs,” finished Carly. “Not everyone is as lucky as we are.”

_They’re making such a fuss over a bloody dress.  I’d never believed it in a million years if anyone told me,_ thought Benedict.  _I can understand them all wanting to be together to select the dresses, but Donna’s dress should be bought in London. I’m clearly out of my element here._

“If we couldn’t afford it, Muffin, believe me – I’d be the first one to tell you if there were a budget we have to adhere to.  Dad and I wouldn’t have made the offer to pay for your wedding in the first place.  This is something we want to do for you and Benedict.  I want to reassure you that money has been set aside for your wedding; so just relax and enjoy the experience.”

_Ah, it sounds as if the sky’s the limit then. I’ll be sure to keep that in mind when we’re making choices.  How very, very interesting,_ thought Benedict.

“Alright, but if you think our spending is approaching the point of being over the top, I want you to tell us,” said Donna.  “Right, Ben?”

_Benedict’s like me.  He doesn’t believe in spending money in order to show off.  He’s practical – like me,_ thought Donna.  _Carly and Steve didn’t give any thought to how they spent Mom and Dad’s money on their wedding.  I love my sister and brother-in-law dearly; but they could have shown some consideration and restraint. They didn’t need fireworks and live doves flying overhead when they exited the wedding chapel._

Wanda glanced over at Benedict.  _My son would never dream of taking advantage of them.  I’ve always taught Ben to be prudent when it comes to making expenditures.  He’ll mind their money as if it were his own – of that I have no doubt._

_No motherfucking way in hell!!  I want the most extravagant, lavish wedding ever, Darling! Oh, crumpets! Who am I kidding?  Thriftiness is in my blood. Mum should be proud – I’m a credit to her. No matter how much I may want to make the wankers pay a king’s ransom; it’s just not in my heart to do that to them.  I’ll be minding the budget for them rest assured.  
_

“Of course,” agreed Benedict graciously.  “Neither of us would ever dream of exploiting the generosity of a blank check – regardless of your well-meant intentions, Antonia.”

Toni smiled widely and nodded at Benedict approvingly. Wanda sat up straighter and smiled proudly at her son.  Carly looked a bit miffed as if Donna had caused her to feel guilty.

_And that was the correct response, Ben Honey.  Mom liked that and I’m sure she’ll make a point of relaying your comment to Dad later on.  My fiancé has no idea just how many brownie points he racked up with those words. Wanda’s so proud of him that she looks as if she’s going to burst any moment.  Carly’s pissed off at me for making her feel guilty, but I’m sure it won’t last too long._

“Wait. What about Michelle?” said Carly.

“Who’s Michelle?” asked Wanda.

“She’s one of my bridesmaids, but she lives in Florida,” replied Donna.  “Michelle has to be here!”

“I’m sure she can get a cheap flight up for the weekend,” said Toni.  “Pa can probably pull some strings to get her on a flight.”

“Michy can stay with Steve and me,” volunteered Carly.  “We’ve got two spare bedrooms.”

“Wouldn’t it be more practical to buy your wedding dress in London, Darling?” asked Benedict.  “Don’t brides have multiple fittings?  You can’t be flying back and forth across the pond.”

This time all four women glared daggers at him. 

_And I’ll take that as my cue to shut up and try one of these motherfucking mutant scones and let them sort it out between them, though I do see a bespoke wedding gown in Donna’s future,_ thought Benedict as he broke the pumpkin scone in half and spread some softened butter on it. 

 

************************************************

 

Andrew Scott and Stephen Beresford were stood before the small selection of potted orchids in Sainsbury’s trying to decide if any of them would suffice in fooling Donna. 

“So what do you think, Drew? Can we get away with it?” Stephen asked nervously, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket.  “I think they look more or less the same yes?”

Andrew pulled thoughtfully on his chin and pursued his lips as he continued to study the plants.

“You’re right, Stephen.  We might be able to use a few of these as substitutes.  I’m just trying to picture the colours in my mind’s eye and not doing a very good job of it.”

“Don’t take too long.  There’s a ginger-haired woman sporting a grey cape, who’s also got her eye on some of these.  She’s been circling the display, trying to make up her mind as well. Five quid for an orchid plant must be a bargain.”

“That it is,” confirmed Andrew.  “I bet you didn’t know that some of those recently deceased ones cost Marco as much as two hundred quid or better from what Donna told me.”

Stephen gulped audibly.  “No.  I hadn’t a clue. This little faux pas of ours has the possibility of turning into a very costly one.”

“Which is why I’m desperately hoping we can make these less costly ones work for our purpose of deception, Baby.  Just give me a little more time, please.”

“I’ll leave you to it then,” said Stephen.  "I'll be having a wander around the store. Text me when you’ve come to a decision.”

Ten minutes later after the woman had swooped in and purchased two of the plants, Andrew finally settled on his choices and texted Stephen that it was time for him to return to the display.

“I feared you had gone into a trance,” Stephen quipped.

“I did tell you I needed some time.”

“Did you know that this Sainsbury’s stocks twelve different kinds of mustard and twice as many jams?”

Andrew stopped and squinted at him in disbelief.  “Why the fuck should I care about that when we’ve got a bigger problem to sort out?”

“Two words:  bacon jam.  They have bacon jam, Drew.  Imagine the possibilities.”

Andrew paused for a moment and started to laugh as he shook his head.

“We’ll be sure to grab a jar on the way to the till.”

“I decided to be proactive and already got us a jar,” laughed Stephen, indicating the jar in the trolley.  “So which of these do you fancy?”

“I’ve got my eye on these.”  Andrew pointed out six of the plants to Stephen. “I think the three white ones in the back and the two pink ones in front of you are dead ringers for Marco’s.  The purple one they’ve got mixed in with the house plants should also be able to pass.”

“I concur,” agreed Stephen, quickly placing the potted plants in his trolley.  “Jolly good then. Let’s go to the till and check out before you change your mind.”

Andrew rolled his eyes.  “You know nothing of orchids, Baby.”

“Nor did you until Benedict gave you that crash course prior to his going to the States.”

Andrew chuckled bitterly. “It was a crash course alright.  I crashed and burned miserably.  Donna’s going to be livid if she realizes we replaced Marco’s posh orchids with these cheap imitations!”

“Let’s be fair about it, Drew.  We both turned out to be rubbish orchid-nannies. I wonder if Benedict would have fared any better?”

Andrew snorted.  “Fuck no!  Ben had only a few days to care for them before he left and some of them had been over-watered already.  You didn't cause all that root-rot in just a couple of days.”

“I suppose there’s some comfort in the fact that he wouldn’t have been any better at it.”

“Better that it had been him rather than us who killed them; but that’s water under the bridge, pardon the pun.”

“I think if we buy these together with the ones we spotted over at the florist, we just might get away with it.”

“We have nothing to lose but money and a friend, Baby,” agreed Andrew sadly.  “Let’s pay for these, and then I’ll go back to the florist to buy the other ones whilst you go to Wasabi and get us something for supper – not that I have much of an appetite.”

“What do you fancy?”

“To be honest: A miracle.  I want to walk into Donna’s flat and find the fucking plants all restored to the hale and hearty condition she left them in.”

Stephen laughed and clapped Andrew on the back.  “Please stop being so hard on yourself, my sweet man.”

“Says he who isn’t about to incur the wrath of Donna Saint James.”

“You may not.  Didn’t we decide to think positive about this?”

“ _You_ decided to think positive. I’d much prefer to play the role of the pessimist.  That way I can’t be any more disappointed than I already am.”

“As you were then, Love.  I’m going to do the positive thinking for both of us.  Put the flowers on your credit card, and we’ll split the bill when it comes in.  Now that the flowers and your pessimism have been sorted, what do you fancy for supper?”

“The rainbow roll set with brown rice, a large miso soup and a bottle of plum tea.”

Stephen regarded his partner with a raised eyebrow.  “I thought you hadn’t much of an appetite.”

“I’ve decided that orchid shopping makes me hungry after all,” giggled Andrew as they got on the queue.  “Can I interest you in sharing an order of their chicken gyoza?”

“Brilliant choice!  I’m in the mood for the salmon teriyaki bento.  Maybe I’ll get a soup as well.   After I’m done collecting our supper at Wasabi, I’ll meet you at Paul’s so we can pick out something sinfully rich together for dessert.”

“Yes.  I think a sweet treat is definitely in order for after I speak with Donna,” sighed Andrew.

“I thought we weren’t going to tell Donna.  I thought we were just going to replace the plants and see if she notices the difference.”

“A little voice in the back of my mind keeps telling me that the right thing to do is to tell her the truth.”

“Drew?”

“What?”

“Please tell that little voice to shut the fuck up.”

 

*********************************************************

 

Donna Saint James sat at the desk in her bedroom viewing the photos Tertius Bune had emailed of the engagement party on her desktop. 

_That was very nice of Tertius to offer his services as our wedding gift.  He’s an excellent photographer!  Ah, Benedict looks so happy and handsome.  He’s going to make a gorgeous groom. I love how his eyes sparkle when he’s happy – I can always tell Benedict’s moods just by looking into his eyes.  They truly are the windows to his soul._

Once Wanda and Toni had left the brownstone, Benedict had packed up his suitcase for the flight back to London.  Donna was amused to see that his idea of packing consisted of stuffing everything haphazardly into his suitcase and sitting on it in order to zip it shut.  Then they had spent the remainder of the afternoon making love, while Carly and Steve had taken Pierre for a leisurely walk in Central Park.  Afterwards, the four had enjoyed an early dinner at David Burke’s Townhouse.  Donna had then driven Benedict to JFK and dropped him off at Terminal Seven, which housed British Airways.  After a tearful goodbye, she drove back into Manhattan.

_I might as well check my emails and see if there’s anything interesting going on. Maybe Eric answered my email about my new title.  Benedict’s right about leaving my laptop on.  It’s nice to not have to keep booting it up. I’m already to go!_

The first email was from Emily thanking Donna and Carly for allowing her to have the time off and she looked forward to seeing them tomorrow.  Emily also apologized profusely once again for not asking prior to making her arrangements and swore never to do it again. 

_I don’t think Carly and I were all that hard on Emily when we spoke with her via Skype.  We were firm, yet we did tell her it was okay to proceed with her plans.  Emily got visibly rattled when I took Benedict’s suggestion and threatened to ‘sack’ her if she pulled a stunt like that again. Carly thought I should have said ‘replace you with a new intern’ because it sounded softer than ‘sack’; but I liked sack._

The second email was from Heather suggesting that they expand their morning offerings to something more creative than just porridge, muffins and scones to include a couple of rotating breakfast sandwiches and possibly a baked French toast of the day.  Heather also noted that this could work for feeding the _Dr. Who_ cast and crew.

_Hmmm…now that’s actually a good idea, Heather!  Baked French toast is easy to make, and I can think of several variations right off the bat.  I’ll email Maria and George to get their thoughts and ideas.  Maybe a frittata of the day rather than made-to-order sandwiches would be better.  I have to think of what’s easy on my chefs.  
_

After forwarding Heather’s email to Carly, Maria and George with her comments, Donna saw that the next email was from her boss, Eric.  It began with an apology for referring to Donna as the Tribune’s Chief Restaurant Critic, which disappointed her deeply.

_Damn.  I should have known better.  I have only been working at the Tribune since January; so why would I merit such a lofty promotion?  There are other restaurant critics on staff, who have been there a lot longer than I have._

Eric went on to explain that he had purposely done that as once again Stuart MacMillan had threatened to quit and go work at the London Times in order to get more money. Eric had grown weary of Stuart’s incessant threats to accept a position at the Tribune’s competition for more money and felt it was time to teach the critic a lesson.

_That bastard threatens to quit every time he wants a raise!  Eric’s very tough, so I’m surprised he didn’t tell Stu to go already and have a nice life. I know for sure that if Dad were the editor, Stu would have been handed his walking papers a long time ago.  I guess Eric was a bit hesitant to do anything drastic because he hasn’t been on board all that long himself._

As she picked up where she left off in the email, Donna was pleasantly surprised to read that this time Eric had decided it was time to put an end to Stuart’s posturing and called Rodney Renfield, whom he had met through Donna and become friendly with.  As Eric suspected, there had been no offer made to Stuart MacMillan.  Therefore, Eric called Stuart into his office, graciously accepted his resignation and wished him well. He wrote that the critic had been completely caught off guard and turned pale upon hearing the words.

_Hahaha!  Wise move, Eric!  Stuart pushed the envelope one time too many, and Eric called his bluff. Well done him – as Benedict would say._

The email went on to say that two days later, the article announcing Donna’s engagement to Benedict appeared in the Tribune. Eric waited patiently to see how long it would take for Stuart to come around to ask for his job back.  It didn’t take long.  Stuart informed Eric that he decided not to accept the position with the Times’ after all and preferred to stay where he was at his current pay level.  He said whilst Donna was doing an excellent job, he felt she wasn’t seasoned enough to take on such responsibility.  Stuart also offered to groom Donna to take his place once he reached retirement age.  Eric pretended to reluctantly agree after some further negotiations.

_That was very clever of Eric, but unfortunately it was at my expense.  It got my hopes up for nothing.  However, Stuart deserved that.  He’s known for pulling this stunt all the time from what my colleagues tell me.  Part of me would love to have seen Eric call his bluff for real and part of me would miss the cocky son of a bitch.  I'd truly despise him if I hadn't been able to see a side of Stu that few there see.  He’s always been kind to me under that gruff exterior.  
_

Donna felt Pierre nudge her arm with his head, and he looked at her as if trying to read her mind.  She paused to hug him tightly.  _  
_

“I find I’ve got mixed feelings on the subject, Boy.  Stuart and I do get along great. He has always been nice to me and has acted as my mentor at the Tribune since the first day I set foot in their offices. He’s just such a diva to everyone else! It’s too bad Stuart’s got such a loyal following and large readership and takes advantage of it.  Eric certainly doesn’t want to lose that for the Tribune.  I’m just disappointed that it wasn’t true.  Deep down inside I really wanted that promotion.” 

Pierre licked her face as if he understood that his mistress was feeling sad.  Donna smiled and scratched behind her pet’s ears, earning a low whine of contentment from the poodle.

_It would have been nice if Eric let me in on his little scheme before publishing something like that.  All my friends and acquaintances in London were calling and emailing me congratulations on my promotion.  I guess I’ll email Ben the bad news._

The last few sentences of the email contained another apology from Eric for giving Donna false hope and told her that he would be printing a correction and that she would be receiving a substantial pay raise in order to soften the blow.  He added that it was the same amount that Stuart had been trying to squeeze out of him.

_OH!  This is fantastic news!  Okay.  I can live with the title being taken back.  I don’t need a frigging title!  I’ll take the apology and the money any day!  Yea!  As soon as I finish up here, I’ll take Pierre for his evening walk and we’ll stop for ice cream at Sprinkles on the way home.  I know how he loves a little cup of their vanilla, and I think I’ll get a scoop of the coconut almond fudge and malted milk chocolate.  
_

Donna opened her desk drawer, took out her calculator and did some calculations and conversions from pounds into dollars _._ Pierre had lain down beside her as if waiting for her to remember him.  _  
_

_That will come out to a nice amount every week. I suppose I should thank Stu when I get back.  Hahaha!  
_

The text message alert sounded on her cell phone.  Pierre raised his massive head inquisitively.

“It’s Benedict texting from the airport!”

Donna anxiously read his message:

 

I’m sat here at the gate waiting for the flight to be called.  I tried calling but they have rubbish reception in this fucking terminal.  B

You’re right.  The reception is hit or miss.  Why don’t you try calling from somewhere else?  D

I don’t want to give up my seat.  I’ve got access to a charging station for my mobile here.  B

Waiting to board is sooooo boring!  B

Why don’t you take a walk around the terminal?  I know they’ve got stores you could spend some time browsing in.  They’re not as interesting as all the stores in Heathrow, but you can manage to pass the time.  D

I’ve already taken a ride on the moving walkways, browsed the shops, used the gents and had time for a coffee.  B

Are you trying to tell me that I got you there too early?  D

Yes.  B

Better to be early than to miss the flight.  D

Don’t you think that three bloody hours is a bit too early?  B

Not at all. That’s the recommendation for International Flight Departures.  Besides had we gotten stuck in traffic on the Van Wyck, you would’ve been swearing.  D

True.  Thank you for being mindful of the timing.  You know I fancy cutting it a bit closer.  B

The flight tracker for British Airways shows that you’re still scheduled to leave on time.  D

The flight departure announcement board is also showing that my flight is on time.  B

Has the crew boarded yet? Are the gate agents at their desk yet?  D

Yeah.  The pilots and flight attendants have already gone through the jet bridge.  The desk agents are busy turning standbys away at the gate.  It seems like I’m on a fully booked flight. B

It won’t be much longer.  D

I miss you.  B

Same here.  I just had some good news though.  D

Your work visa’s been renewed?!?  B

Not that good, but almost as good.  Eric emailed me.  That was a set up to teach Stuart MacMillan a lesson.  D

The dick who’s always threatening to leave the Tribune for greener pastures?  B

That’s the dick.  Eric called his bluff this time, after first confirming with Uncle Rodney that there was no job offer. After Stu read that I was his replacement, he sang a different tune and begged forgiveness.  D

I would have told him to go piss off.  B

Eric really couldn’t.  D

Why the hell not?  B

Because Stuart MacMillan’s column has a huge following!  He’s the most widely read restaurant critic in London.  The last thing Eric wants is for all those loyal readers to follow Stu to the London Times.  D

Understood.  However, it still wasn’t cricket of Eric to use you as a pawn in his little game of critics.  He should have had the bollocks to at least let you in on his rubbish scheme.  B

True, but I understand what motivated him.  D

Care to fill me in or shall I pull out my Ouija board and consult that?  B

Eric explained that if I knew, my reactions wouldn’t have been as genuine when my co-workers congratulated me. It was part of making sure the word got back to Stu that it was real.  I think he really enjoyed setting Stu up.  D

For fucks sake!  It’s like one of my _Sherlock_ scripts come to life.  Do you think Stuart the Diva has learnt his lesson then?  B

Yeah.  He told Eric to forget the money and even offered to mentor me so I can be his successor once he’s retired.  D

If I recall, Stuart MacMillan is only in his late-forties.  He’s got an awful long way to go towards retirement.  B

I’m very patient.  D

ROTFLMAO!  Are you shitting me???  You are the most impatient person I know!  B

After you, my love.  ;-p  D

Touche!  I’m afraid that honour still belongs to me yes? B

Damn right it does, Mr. Cumberbatch.  D

You know part of me was torn when I read the email.  I was happy at first that Stu got called out on his crap; but then I realized that I would also be sad had he gone because he’s done a lot to nurture me.  The man has gone out of his way to help me.  D

You try and act tough at times, but you’re soft-hearted, my Darling Donna.  That’s what I love about you.  Now, on the other hand, I can be a right mean bastard.  B

I disagree.  You think you are, but underneath you’re not at all.  You’re a sweetheart.  D

You’re making me blush again.  I can feel it in my cheeks.  B

I told you.  Get up off your ass and walk around!  D

Sod off, twat.  B

I thought that was funny.  D

I don’t appreciate your snark.  B

What I meant is that you’re a good actor.  D

Tell that to BAFTA.  B

I predict that one day; we’ll have a fireplace mantel lined with your awards!  D

You’re fairly confident. More than I am, I’m afraid.  B

I’m VERY confident of your acting abilities, Ben Honey.  D

Well, thank you.  That means a lot to me.  B

I don’t say things I don’t mean.  D

I know which makes it all the more meaningful to me.  B

I’m so sorry you got caught in the middle, Love.  One day you’ll be the Chief Restaurant Critic for the London Tribune, I’m sure.   B

Don’t be sorry!  I got a hefty raise out of it!  That was Eric’s way of making it up to me. I don’t need the title and extra work.  D

That’s fantastic news!  I’m over the moon for you! Money certainly has a way with easing the pain yes?  B

And then some!  LOL!  D

Now aren’t you sorry you always call Eric a cocksucker? B

No.  That’s your pet name for him.  I always call him a prick. I’m going to have to stop doing that.  D

They just called my flight.  The lucky wankers in First Class can board.  B

You still have some time.  You’re flying economy class.  D

True.  Wouldn’t it be a treat to be able to fly first class just once?  B

Maybe when we go on our honeymoon?  D

Why the hell not?  We’re only going to go on honeymoon once, so let’s fuck frugality.  B

I’d much rather fuck you.  :-D    D

Aren’t you the randy one tonight? I thought you’d be sufficiently satiated after that epic shag we enjoyed this afternoon.  I know I’m still basking in my post-orgasmic bliss.  B

Oh, I am.  You were very thorough and always exceed my expectations, Sir. You’re an excellent shagger – is that a word?  D

I haven’t a clue as to whether that’s a proper noun or not, to be honest.  B

Your thrill drill was in peak operating condition.  D

For fucks sake, Woman! You should see my face right now. It’s all red.  B

How do you know this?  D

I can see my reflection in the window from where I’m sat.  I can also feel the heat in my cheeks.  B

That’s from sitting in one spot for too long.  Get up and walk around.  ;-p    D

LOL   You’re such an insufferably cheeky girl.  B

Even though your face may be red, I bet you’re wearing that smug little smile you always do after we’ve had especially good sex.  D

That’s a smile of self-satisfaction that one gets from the knowledge of a job well done.  B

And it was.  D

Blimey! You’re making me blush again.  B

Stop bull-shitting me.  You love having your ego stroked.  D

Amongst _other_ things.  B

LOL    D

You know I am very proud of the way you’ve been standing up to your parents re the wedding issues.  B

It wasn’t easy, but somehow I managed to get the words out that had to be said.  D

I thought you quite eloquent in telling them off.  B

Once I did it, it wasn’t as hard the second time.  D

They backed off for the most part.  I do give them kudos for effort though.  I’ve never seen anything quite like it…except for my mother, bless her.  B

I can’t wait to get back to London so we can continue planning!  D

I was going to tell you something I overheard at Thanksgiving that I don’t think I was meant to hear.  B

WHAT?  D

Maybe I shouldn’t say anything.  I doubt it was meant for my repetition – particular since it was concerning you.  B

What did you hear and when did you become so vigilant about not telling me stuff?  D

I don’t want to get your hopes up.  B

Damn you, Benedict!  Tell me now or all rainchecks will become null and void.  D

It’s not nice to withhold sex before we’re married you know. Doesn't that usually happen afterwards?  B

Stop being such a bastard and tell me!!!!  D

Your Uncle Angelo told your Gran that he knows someone who knows someone at the British consulate who can push your Visa renewal through before Christmas.   B

Really??????  D

Really.  B

OMG!  That’s the best news ever!!!   D

Apparently, this person owes your uncle a favour; and he’s inclined to collect on it.  B

Uncle Angelo believes in a strict exchange of favors.  He’ll collect on it, believe me.  From what I’ve heard my uncle can be very persuasive. D

I don’t fancy hearing the sordid details as to his techniques of persuasion. My fingers are crossed that he can make it happen.  B

I sure hope so.  In the interim, don’t forget to contact the church, the vicar and Kenwood House.  D

I promise.  As soon as I set foot in the door of my flat, I will get to work.  B

Great.  You have a job lined up for Monday, right?  D

Yeah.  I’m reading an audio book of _The Little Red Hen_.  B

Awww…I bet you’ll do a great job.  By the way, my nieces love the way your dad reads the Hobbit, even though they don’t understand what’s going on.  He’s supposed to read to them tonight before they go to bed.  D

Dad does an awesome Smaug!  B

Great voices run in your family.  D

My agent tells me the word on the street is that Peter Jackson’s hired Amy and John Hubbard as the UK casting directors to hold auditions for the Hobbit trilogy early next year. I told John I’d love to try out for the role of Smaug.  John knows Amy, so he’s going to petition for an audition for me. What do you think?  B

I think you’d make a scary Smaug!  Go for it if you can!  D

Business Class was just called.  I think I’ll collect up my things and prepare to board then.  B

Text me when you land.  I don’t care what time it is.  D

Jolly good.  I love you!!!!  Bxx

I love you, too!  Have a good flight! D xoxoxo

 

Donna read the remainder of her emails and was about to sign off and take Pierre for his evening walk when she noticed that she had several missed Skype calls – all from Andrew Scott.

_Hmmm…I wonder what going on.  It looks as though Andrew’s been trying to get hold of me all day.  I hope he doesn’t think I was ignoring him on purpose because I never signed out.  I also hope nothing’s wrong!  I see he’s still signed in.  Let me try him now.  
_

“Go fetch your leash, Pierre, while I see what’s wrong in London.”

Before Donna Saint James had a chance to click on Andrew Scott’s icon, the chime began to ring alerting her that Andrew was trying to call her.

“Hi Andrew!  How are things in London?”

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. The London NYC Hotel no longer serves afternoon tea, but when they did; Gordon Ramsey got it right. After watching his Kitchen Nightmares show, I held him to very high standards; and he did not disappoint. :-)
> 
> 2\. I love Alice's Tea Cup's non-traditional scones. They really are as big as your fist. 
> 
> 3\. I've yet to find a chocolate tea that I like. If anyone can recommend one, I'm all ears. 
> 
> 4\. Kleinsfeld is a huge, upscale bridal boutique in NYC and featured in the TV show "Say Yes to the Dress". I've never been there, so I'm making up my own rules as to the number of guests allowed in etc. 
> 
> 5\. The story of Wanda and Timothy's wedding is complete fiction, except for the fact that Wanda was pregnant and wore jeans and braces.
> 
> 6\. The story of Stuart MacMillan wouldn't have happened in real life. Eric never would have made such an announcement in the paper.
> 
> 7\. It's been a great week for BC fans: Nice new photos, interviews, good Dr. Strange reviews and news of a new baby on the way! It's Christmas! LOL


	145. Chapter 145

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Andrew waffles when the time comes to put his plan into action. Benedict and Donna have a waffling Skype chat. 
> 
> Note: I’ll be using ********* for things happening at the same time.

 

 

“I feel like this is the last supper,” sighed Andrew Scott, taking the last swig of the cold plum tea.  “And I’m playing the part of Judas.” 

“And exactly who are you betraying, Judas?” inquired Stephen. 

“Well, I’m betraying the trust Ben put in me that I’d take proper care of the damn orchids and by doing that, I’ve betrayed the innocent plants in turn.” 

“That’s rubbish, if you don’t mind my saying, Drew.” 

“I _do_ mind,” snapped Andrew.  “I mind quite a bit as a matter of fact.” 

“Calm down and think it through.  Claiming that you betrayed a trust doesn’t make any sense, Love.  You did Ben a favour by agreeing to mind the bloody plants so he could fly across the pond and propose to Donna.” 

“Some favour I did him,” snorted Andrew.    

“Technically, I’m the murderer.” 

“Fuck off!  You’re enjoying having a go at me.” 

“I quiver when you use that loving tone of voice.  It gives me such a warm and adored feeling.” 

“Sorry.  Perhaps I should just tell Ben first.  He’ll know how to handle Donna and soften the blow.” 

Stephen burst out laughing.  “And from what you’ve told me of Ben, he’s the last one you’d want to confide in as he’ll be sure to suffer a slip of the tongue.” 

“True.  He does have an unfortunate talent for coming out with things he’s not supposed to.” 

“I still strongly urge you to take my advice and not say a word about the demise of the orchids.  Just sit back and see if Donna notices anything different about them once she returns.” 

“It’s too late for that, Baby. As I told you in Paul’s, my mind’s made up. I need to tell Donna the truth so I’ll have peace of mind.  It’s the right thing to do, and you know it is.” 

“I know nothing of the kind,” huffed Stephen.  “The odds are in our favour that we can pull this off without anyone being the wiser.” 

“It’s a moot point.  I won’t change my mind. Besides I’ve already placed several Skype calls to Donna.  She’s bound to wonder why I’ve been trying to reach her and call me back.” 

“I did beg you to think it through before placing those calls.  Sometimes not saying anything is best, my sweet man.  What can I say to persuade you to change your mind?” 

“Not a thing. It doesn’t pay to lie because a lie is always found out. Donna’s going to realize something’s wrong as soon as she sees them – no matter how close the replacements are to the original ones. It’s best that I come clean and confess everything right up front.” 

“I still maintain that you may be worrying for no reason.  I personally couldn’t tell the difference once we placed the new ones around the flat,” insisted Stephen.  

Andrew regarded Stephen with a raised eyebrow. “And that’s because you’re such an expert on rare and exotic orchids?” 

“Bugger off, Drew.  Even if they’re not an exact match, I think they’re bloody damn close.” 

“Donna will know for certain.  She picks up on the tiniest thing that’s out of place. I’ve seen her in action.” 

“Then that will be the true test,” agreed Stephen, getting up from their dining table.  “As you pointed out, she’ll be curious as to why you’ve been attempting to contact her.”  He took a peek at Andrew’s laptop which they had left open and charging on the table.  “Splendid. Your battery is showing as fully charged.” 

“What about Donna?” 

“She’s still showing as signed into Skype.” 

“She must have left her Skype on all day.  I know she does that here in case her parents or someone from the States tries to reach her.” 

“It’s still early in New York.  They may be out to dinner.” 

“Ben is due to fly back tonight.  I bet she drove him to the airport,” said Andrew, biting his lower lip.  “I remember him saying he was taking an overnight flight as he was getting into Heathrow late morning.” 

Stephen looked at the clock.  “Okay then. I think you’re in dire need of a distraction.  I propose we go for a walk along Southbank and try calling her when we return if you’re still adamant about going ahead with your confession.” 

Andrew reluctantly got up and began to clean off the table when he paused to look at the list of messages in his email inbox.  “Oh, I have a message from Beryl Vertue.  I wonder what that’s all about.” 

Stephen peered over his partner’s shoulder.  “And what does Ms. Vertue have to say?” 

“Ummm…well…she’s invited me to come around to her flat tomorrow afternoon for tea.” Andrew looked up at Stephen with a furrowed brow. “Doesn’t that strike you as a bit odd?” 

“It strikes me that Ms. Vertue must have a hidden agenda – unless you two are so friendly that she often invites you around to her flat for a cuppa and a chat.” 

“No. I’ve never been to her flat. The only thing I can think of is that she needs to discuss something with me regarding _Sherlock_.” 

“That would make sense.” 

“Oh, my God.  Do you think they’ve changed their minds about casting me as Moriarty?” 

Stephen covered his ears.  “I didn’t hear that.” 

Andrew turned and abruptly yanked Stephen’s arms back down to his sides.  “For fucks sake!  Stop that! You’re my partner for fucks sake!  There’s no reason why I can’t confide something like that in you.” 

“I’m not supposed to know that little tidbit.  Remember that lovely NDA they had you sign not to tell a soul that you were playing the Professor?” 

“Jim Moriarty’s not a professor in this reboot.  He’s a criminal mastermind who controls a very intricate network that reaches…” 

Stephen covered his ears once again.  “I didn’t hear that either, and don’t fancy hearing any more about it!” 

Andrew rolled his eyes.  “You haven’t breathed a word to anyone about Moriarty.” 

“That’s right, and I bloody well won’t tell a soul either.  I don’t wish to see you get in trouble, Drew.  A breach of an NDA is serious.” 

Andrew sighed heavily.  “What do you really think, Baby?” 

“I think you have no choice but to go.” 

“I mean what do you think her motives could be?” 

“Haven’t a clue, and the only way for you to find out is to accept her invite and go.  I’m sure it’s probably nothing of significance.” 

“She’s one of the executive producers.” 

“Then it probably does have something to do with _Sherlock_.  Perhaps they want to make a few changes to your character and want to discuss it with you prior to the start of filming. It’s only six weeks away, so they’d have to iron out any changes fairly quickly yes?” 

“Wouldn’t Mark Gatiss and Steve Moffat be there as well then?  They’re the creators and writers. And what about Sue Vertue?  She’s the producer.” 

“Possibly.  It really depends on what the topic for discussion is.  They may not all need to be present.” 

Andrew plopped down in front of his laptop and compressed his lips into a thin line as he began to type a response to Beryl Vertue’s email. 

“I’ll tell her that I’m delighted and available to drop in.”  

“Excellent choice, Love.” 

“Like I had one,” scoffed Andrew.  

Stephen bent down and kissed Andrew on the cheek.  “I’m sure you’re worrying for naught.”  He wrapped his arms around Andrew and rested his chin on his shoulder. 

Andrew reached up and rubbed Stephen’s arm.  “Let’s hope you’re right.” 

“Go on then.  Send the bloody thing so we can sort out the Mystery of the Surrogate Orchids.” 

“Here goes! Message sent!” 

As soon as Andrew hit send/receive, an incoming message popped up in his inbox.  This one was from Donna Saint James. 

“She’s home!”  Both men shouted at the same time. 

Andrew sat still and stared at the screen.  “Shit!  What should I do?” 

“Open it and see what she has to say,” urged Stephen, straightening up to massage his partner’s shoulders.  “Quick as you can now!” 

Andrew held out his hands.  “My fucking hands are shaking.” 

“Would you please calm down, Drew!  There’s no way she could possibly know what’s transpired here.  The subject says ‘Pics from Party’, so it’s seems to be a friendly email.  If it said ‘How Did You Kill Marco’s Orchids?’, then you’d have cause for alarm, but we’re the only two people in the world who know what happened.” 

“She sent it three minutes ago,” observed Andrew as he clicked on the message in order to open it.  He glanced quickly at it.  “Ah…Donna’s parents threw her and Ben a surprise engagement party and here’s a photo of the happy couple.” 

“That’s a lovely photo.  You can see how much they adore each other by the way they look into the other one’s eyes.” 

“They do make a handsome couple,” agreed Andrew. 

“Such a shame that Donna won’t be looking that happy for long once you tell her about the bloody orchids.”  Stephen unplugged the laptop, picked it up and extended it to Andrew.  “Off you go then.  There’s no time like the present.” 

“You sound like my granny.” 

“That’s because your granny always says that.  If you hurry, we’ll still have time for that walk after you finish with Donna.  There’s going to be a full moon tonight, which will make for a very romantic stroll.”  Stephen smiled and raised his eyebrows suggestively at Andrew.  “We can even stop in at the Golden Fleece for a pint before bed.” 

Andrew sighed deeply and took the laptop from Stephen. “I’d appreciate it if you were to accompany me for moral support.” 

“And to lay blame on me, no doubt,” snickered Stephen. 

“I’m not going to blame you specifically.  We both are at fault here.” 

“Are you absolutely sure you want to make a confession tonight?  Seriously, Drew, wouldn’t you rather sleep on it rather than just jumping off the cliff?” 

Andrew nodded.  “No.  My mind’s made up. I need to do this as soon as possible and get it the hell over with.  Besides, I won’t be able to live with myself if I don’t.” 

“You know, you could say you were trying to call in order to offer congratulations on their engagement before Benedict got on the plane.  That would explain why you kept trying to reach them.” 

Andrew didn’t give any indication that he had even heard Stephen’s suggestion.  He appeared to be gazing out the window across the Thames towards the Globe Theatre as if lost in deep thought. 

_How lovely that I’m stood here trying to prevent a disaster, and he’s tuning me out. Andrew doesn’t have to tell Donna anything at all until she returns. And if she comes back and doesn’t notice that the orchids have been switched, then jolly good for us!  Let me try one last time to get through to him._

“By not telling Donna straight away, Drew, it affords you time to explain to Benedict what happened prior to her return.  Perhaps he can offer a suggestion as how to better handle the situation or he may tell us our plan will fool Donna and ultimately Marco.” 

Neither of them spoke for the next few minutes.  Stephen tried to contemplate what his partner was thinking.  Andrew bit his lower lip and finally nodded to himself.  

“I just might take that suggestion under consideration, Stephen.  Wanting to wish them well could explain why I made so many call attempts.” 

“Brilliant! Now, that’s the sensible course of action!  There’s no need to go across to her flat then.  We’ll stay put and if she returns your call; we simply play the part of two friends who were trying to reach them in order to express happiness about their engagement.  What do you think?” 

“I think we need to come clean.” 

Stephen threw up his hands in frustration.  “For Christ’s sake! Stop waffling, Andrew!  You’re driving me to distraction!  One minute you’re with me, then the next you’re not. How many times can you change your bloody mind?  Either you tell Donna the truth or you don’t!  Pick one course of action and stick with it!” 

“It’s just that I’m not sure holding back the inevitable will accomplish anything.  It’s a problem.” 

“I think the problem is that you’re allowing your Catholic school upbringing to get in the way of a practical solution.  The guilt is kicking in again.” 

“And you can blame it on the good sisters who taught me the Ten Commandments in primary school.  Thou shalt not lie.” 

“So be it.  Let’s get on with it then.” 

The two men gathered up the orchids and went across the hall to Donna’s flat.  Once inside, they carefully placed the new orchids where the dead ones had been. 

“There!  I think they look fine,” said Stephen.  “How about you?” 

“I think they're passable, but we won’t know for sure until Donna lays eyes on them.” 

“We’ll have to be extra vigilant in minding them until Benedict returns, which thank heaven is tomorrow!”   

“Would you do me a favour, Stephen?” 

“Of course.” 

“Would you mind having a look at the dead orchids just to make sure.” 

“Make sure of what?” 

“That they really do look as bad as they did before.” 

“Are you hoping for a miracle and that they’ll suddenly resurrect?” 

“I’m attempting to be optimistic.” 

“No, that’s not being optimistic.  That’s being desperate. You’re seeking a reason not to have to place that call.  Trust me they’re still dead.  They look exactly as they did when we left earlier.”  Stephen went to the window and pulled one of the now-withered plants out of its pot to display the root rot.  “See?  I don’t know about you, but I call this dead.” 

“FUCK! GOD DAMN FUCKING PLANTS! WHY DID THEY HAVE TO DIE ON US?” 

“Didn’t the good sisters at your primary school tell you that it’s also a sin to swear like that?” 

“For heaven’s sake, Stephen! Shut the fuck up!” 

Andrew set up his laptop on Donna’s coffee table.  He sat on the edge of the couch and clicked on her Skype icon.  Stephen patted his shoulder for reassurance and moved out of view of the camera. 

“Jesus!  You’re deserting me already?” 

“I’ll be right here.” 

“That’s not very reassuring, Stephen.” 

“I’ll make myself known when the time is right.” 

The Skype chime began to ring.    Donna answered it immediately.  Her face filled the screen, and she smiled at him. 

“Hi Andrew!  How are things in London?” 

_Fuck me.  That’s a loaded question,_ thought Andrew miserably.  _She’s getting right to the heart of the matter and doesn’t even realize it, bless her._

 

****************************************************

  

Before Donna Saint James had a chance to click on Andrew Scott’s Skype icon, the chime began to ring alerting her that he was trying to call her. 

_Oh, it’s Andrew!  Gosh, he must have seen my email and decided to try me again. I hope the damn apartment complex didn’t burn down._

Donna answered the call and there was Andrew sitting on the couch in her apartment in London wearing a pair of faded jeans and a black t-shirt that showed off his muscular upper arms.  He was smiling, but the smile didn’t reach his chocolate brown eyes.  

_Hmmm…that’s a forced smile if there ever was one.  At least the apartment hasn’t burned down, but why is he sitting in my living room?_

“Hi Andrew!  How are things in London?” 

_He brought his laptop over to my place.  Isn’t that odd?  He’s not smiling either like he always does.  Andrew looks…nervous…upset.  Like something isn’t right. Oh my gosh!  Maybe something did happen and the living room is the only room that’s still intact or something happened to his apartment._

“Hi Darlin’!” 

“Hey, Andrew!  You’re looking…” 

_Nervous as heck.  He’s wringing his hands and looking off camera at something or someone.  Maybe Stephen came over with him – but why? To bolster his confidence so he can tell me whatever it is he apparently doesn’t want to tell me alone._

“…well.” 

“Congratulations to you and Ben – is he around still?” Andrew asked hesitantly as he once again glanced to the right. 

“Thank you!  Benedict’s gone back to London.  According to the flight tracker, his flight has already taken off. ” 

Andrew’s face fell a bit at her response.  He squirmed and continued to wring his hands while looking towards the right.  He shifted position and took a deep breath.  

“I was just hoping that maybe his flight got delayed and I’d have a chance to say hello.  It can wait until he gets back then.” 

_Hmmm…he looks very disappointed that Benedict’s flight wasn’t delayed.  Now that is one weird reaction.  And it’s not because he wanted to wish us both well at the same time.  I’m not buying that._

Andrew drew another deep breath and let it out slowly in what seemed to be an effort to calm down.  He ran his hands through his hair and placed them on his thighs and rubbed them.  He plastered on the nervous smile again. 

“How are your lovely parents?” 

“Great.  It’s been wonderful having the time to spend with them and the rest of the family.” 

“Please give them and Colin my best.” 

Donna nodded.  “Will do.” 

“Has there been any word as to when your work visa will be renewed?” 

“I paid an expedite fee to move up the line, but I’m still listed as pending.” 

Andrew glanced right and licked his lips.  “How are they taking it at the London Tribune?” 

“They’re working it from their end as well.” 

“How does that affect your job?” 

“I’ve got columns already written for the Christmas in New York City three-part article I’m doing. All I have to do is submit them electronically. Eric said that if I’m still here for New Year’s, then I might as well do a column on New Year’s in New York City.” 

“It’s good that you have a job that allows you to work from almost anywhere.” 

“Yes, it is.  Also, a creative editor helps.  Eric likes to use our vacation destinations as ideas for possible columns.” 

“Oh, congratulations on your promotion.  Stephen and I were ever-so-pleased to read about it in the blurb on your engagement in the Tribune.” 

Donna held up both hands.  “Thanks, but please save the well wishes.  I wasn’t promoted.  I’ll tell you what happened when I get back.  It’s very complicated.” 

“I hope you get it all sorted out before the holidays then.” 

“So do I!  Benedict and I want to start making concrete wedding plans.  I can’t wait to tell you all about what we’ve come up with.” 

“I’m looking forward to hearing all about it, Darlin’.” 

“I hope all’s well across the pond with you.  How’s Stephen?” 

Andrew wrung his hands and rubbed his thighs some more. “It’s fine. He’s fine.  We’re fine. It’s all fine. Things can’t be better.” 

_Why does Andrew’s behavior suddenly remind me of Benedict’s when he’s trying to avoid an unpleasant subject?  There’s something he doesn’t want to tell me, but seems to feel compelled to…it’s as if he’s working up the courage to tell me something God awful._

“Then why do I have a hard time believing that?” 

“Because they’re not!” blurted out Andrew.  “Everything’s gone straight to hell!” 

Donna’s face clouded over with concern.  “Is your family alright?” 

“No.  I mean yes.  Yes.  They’re all fine. Mum, Dad, Sarah, Hannah, brother-in-law, my nieces, my grandparents.  It’s nothing like that.  They’re all in perfect health.  They couldn’t be better actually.” _  
_

_Oh my God!  I hope he and Stephen didn’t break up!  Maybe they had a fight, and Stephen threw Andrew out; so he’s staying at my place until he can make arrangements._

“Did something happen between you and Stephen?” 

“No!  I’m right here,” said Stephen, moving into camera range.  He gave Donna a jaunty little wave. “He can’t get rid of me no matter how hard he may try.”  He moved close to Andrew’s side and began to rub small circles on his back.  “And some days he does give it his all, bless him!” he joked. 

_Did Andrew just gulp?  It sure sounded like he did.  At_ _least now I know who he’s been looking at off camera.  It’s weird though that Stephen has just decided to make his presence known to me now.  Something’s definitely up and Andrew’s working up the courage to tell me._

“Thank God!  I’m glad.  You had me worried.” 

“There’s no cause for worry, Darlin’, isn’t that right, Baby?”  Andrew looked directly at his partner, who patted his hand and gave him a smile of what Donna thought was encouragement. 

Donna observed that Stephen suddenly looked almost as uncomfortable as his partner. 

“Well, I don’t think there’s a lot of cause for concern…” began Stephen, licking his lips nervously. 

_‘A lot of cause for concern’. What in the hell is that supposed to imply? They’re both acting strange.  
_

“…perhaps a tiny bit of concern.”  Stephen demonstrated this by holding his thumb and index fingers a bare millimeter apart.  

Andrew nodded his head vigourously and smiled nervously.  “Yes. That’s right. I’d say a tiny bit maybe.  It depends on one’s definition of tiny actually.” 

“Andrew, you’re not acting right.” 

“No.  I’m fine.  Just exhausted from all the running around I’ve been doing.  I spent the weekend in Dublin.  It was my dad’s birthday.” 

_If he was in Dublin and Benedict was with me, then who was looking after the orchids?_

“Next time you speak with your dad, please wish him a belated happy birthday from me.  So, who was tending to Marco’s babies?” asked Donna, half-jokingly. 

Andrew and Stephen exchanged what Donna thought to be worried looks, and Stephen shrugged.  Donna felt a chill run up her spine.     

“I was minding them,” replied Stephen, studying his hands. 

Andrew smiled at the camera and scratched the back of his neck.  He bit his lower lip and bounced a little on the end of the couch as he side-eyed Stephen. Then he plucked imaginary lint off his t-shirt. 

_Andrew looks like he’s going to freak out on me any minute.  
_

_Stephen looks like he would rather be anywhere else.  
_

_What could be so awful that they’re both hesitant to tell me?  
_

_It’s the orchids.  
_

_Something’s happened to the orchids.  Crap!_

“May I see them?” 

Andrew and Stephen exchanged looks once again and Stephen shrugged as if to say ‘why not’. 

“Of course,” said Andrew, sounding slightly defensive as he rose from the couch and picked up the laptop. 

_Oh, oh.  I shouldn’t have asked to see them. I hurt his feelings by opening my big mouth and questioning their ability to watch over some dumb plants. They would have told me if something had befallen them by now – wouldn’t they?  
_

“That’s okay, Andrew.  Forget I said that.  I’m sure they’re fine.  That sounded a bit…anal.   It was not my intention to question either of your capabilities.”     

_I hope they’re fine_. 

“I’m sure the orchids survived just fine,” smiled Donna. 

_Those rare, exotic and obscenely expensive orchids, which are Marco’s pride and joy.  Why are they not saying anything?  At least one of them should agree with me!_

Andrew exchanged looks with Stephen who made shooing gestures at him to do as Donna had asked.   

“Alright.  Let’s start the tour in the foyer then,” said Andrew.  

He walked over to the table in the entrance foyer and aimed the camera at the plant there.  Donna felt her heart hammering in her chest in anticipation of what she might see.  The orchid appeared to be in the same condition that she had left it in.  

_Thank God!  I worried for nothing!  It looks as healthy as they day I left for New York!_

Andrew then walked back to the couch and focused on the grouping that was situated on one of the end tables.  Then he progressed to the kitchen’s breakfast bar and to the dining area. 

_Where did that pale green orchid come from?  Marco never had a pale green one on the kitchen counter.  The ones in the living room and dining room don’t look anywhere near as robust as when I left or am I imagining it?  I wonder if Andrew’s been feeding them.  I left very specific written instructions for Benedict, which he said he gave to Andrew.  I hope to hell that Andrew passed them onto Stephen before he left for Dublin._

“As you can see, Darlin’, they’re in the peak of good health,” said Andrew briskly.  “We’re off to the bedroom next to continue our tour.”  

“Wait!  I hope I didn’t offend you, Andrew.”

“Not in the slightest, Darlin’.  I’d be wary if my posh flowers were left in another’s care, too.” 

“They’re not _my_ posh flowers.  They’re Marco’s very expensive and rare posh flowers.” 

“Which would be a bugger to have to replace I imagine,” commented Stephen from out of camera range.  

Andrew glared daggers at his partner to shut up. 

“As I’m only too painfully aware,” muttered Andrew under his breath.  “Oh, wait – the one in the loo is just thriving.  Let’s stop in there. You’ll be ever so pleased.” 

“It’s all the humidity from the shower, but it should be dry in there since I’ve been gone.” 

“Ben’s stayed over a couple of nights. Look how hardy it looks. Don’t you agree, Darlin’?”  

_OMG.  If I didn’t know better I’d say it shrunk.  It looks puny.  It doesn’t look like the same orchid that was in there._

Andrew quickly left the bathroom and crossed the hallway to Donna’s bedroom.  He quickly walked about the room, aiming the camera at the plants, making sure to keep his distance as these were the ones from Sainsbury that he and Stephen were a bit wary of trying to pass off. 

“Well, that’s it then,” said Andrew cheerily turning the laptop so she could see his face.  “Shall we return to the lounge?” 

_I need to have a closer look at the ones he just showed me.  He really blew through the bedroom fast._

“No. Not yet.” 

Andrew’s face dropped, and he immediately plastered on a smile.  “Why not, Darlin’?” 

“Can you please take me back to the ones grouped on the dresser?  I’d like to see them again from a closer distance.” 

Andrew turned the laptop and grimaced at Stephen, who patted the small of his back gently.  

_Shit.  She’s noticed something’s not right with them. I knew we were doomed to failure.  
_

Andrew dutifully crossed the room and focused on the plants in question. 

“There.  See.  Fit as a fiddle.”

 “Hmmm…All the orchids in the bedroom are pink and purple.  Where did the white ones come from?” 

Andrew felt the panic well up inside him.  _NOOOO!  I could swear there were white ones in here. Fuck!  
_

“Stephen must have mixed them up when he put them back in here.” 

“I meant that Marco doesn’t have any white orchids.” 

_Yes, he did!  I've been in here countless times, and I know bloody fucking well that there were white orchids in here.  I know Marco had white orchids.  Didn’t he???  Fuck me, fuck Stephen, fuck us!  
_

Andrew glanced nervously at Stephen, who was standing out of camera range in the doorway.  He spread his hands in a helpless gesture and shrugged. 

“A lot of help you are," Andrew hissed in a barely audible voice at Stephen.

Stephen shrugged again in response.

"Are you sure about that, Darlin’?” asked Andrew in a small, hopeful voice. 

“Of course I am!  I’ve been taking care of these flowers since January, so I know them like I know the back of my hand.” 

_Damn it!  I knew in the back of my mind that she would, God love her._

“You know, I think it’s the light making them look white.  They’re actually pale pink.  I noticed that when Stephen had them out in the lounge.” 

“I meant to ask you: Why on earth would Stephen move the orchids out of the bedroom to the lounge?” 

“For the sunlight.” 

“The bedroom gets plenty of light from the window near the bed.” 

“Stephen was helping me out.  It was my dad’s birthday Saturday, so Stephen offered to mind the plants whilst I was in Dublin,” Andrew said in a rush.  “He was doing the best he could, Donna.  Honest he was!  He didn’t mean to do them any harm.”  

_He didn’t mean to do them any harm?  Holy shit!_

“Stephen was orchid sitting for you,” Donna said slowly.  “Why did he take the plants out of the bedroom?” 

“As I said before, so they would have the sun,” replied Andrew.  “Don’t orchids need the sun?  You did say they need the sun to thrive.” 

“All he had to do was open the drapes and let the light in for a little while.  They just need to have some indirect light every day.  There was no need to even move them.” 

“Would it be a bad thing if they somehow managed to get direct sunlight?” inquired Steven from off camera. 

“Very bad.  It would kill them,” replied Donna.  “Why do you ask?” 

“Because a few of them may have gotten some direct sun,” answered Stephen meekly, stepping into camera range briefly. 

Donna had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. 

“Crap!   Can I see the one in the kitchen again?” 

“Of course.” 

Andrew quickly returned to the kitchen and aimed the laptop at the orchid on the countertop. 

“Jeez Louise!  Have you been over feeding it? That one’s so much bigger than I remember.” 

“Do you really think so, Darlin’?” 

“Yes.  Andrew, we need to talk.  Where is Stephen?” 

Andrew turned to look for his partner.  “He’s stood by the window looking out at the Thames.”  _Right next to all the dead plants that we forgot to dispose of because we were too fucking preoccupied with placing the new ones back in the correct spots, which we managed to cock up as well._

“Good.  Please go back in my bedroom.  We need to talk,” whispered Donna in a hushed tone. 

“What’s wrong, Darlin’?”  asked Andrew innocently.  "He's across the room by the windows and can't hear us."

“I think Stephen’s switched Marco’s plants for different ones.  These orchids you’ve shown me are not the same ones I left there.  I’m suspicious after he mentioned that some of the plants may have been exposed to direct sunlight.” 

Andrew said nothing.  He looked as if he wanted to bolt from the room. Stephen mouthed to him to go ahead and tell Donna the whole truth.  

“And please stop trying to gaslight me, Andrew,” Donna added. “Where did the white ones come from?” 

“Sainsbury’s Local in Paternoster Square, as did the pink and purple ones.  I got the green and yellow ones at the florist.  Unfortunately, Stephen misunderstood me and put the plants in direct sunlight rather than indirect, which is why they’re not thriving.” 

“I left them in the direct sun all day,” added Stephen.  “I also didn’t drain off the excess water from the plates underneath the pots…so there may have been a bit of root rot as well.  I’m so sorry for cocking it up, Donna.  We thought if we could replace the plants with ones that matched them, all would be well.  Drew and I will make it right.” 

Andrew heard a sharp intake of breath from Donna.  

“Where are Marco’s orchids, Andrew?” 

Andrew Scott sighed deeply and reluctantly turned towards the floor-to-ceiling, wall-to-wall window in the lounge area.  Stephen came to stand beside him as Andrew aimed the laptop at the row of dead orchids on the floor.  “I’m afraid these are what are left of Marco’s posh orchids, Darlin’.”  

 

 

Friday evening Benedict Cumberbatch unlocked the door to his Hampstead flat and immediately lit the gas fireplace in the lounge to ward off the cold that had seeped into his bones during the walk from the tube station to his home.  The weather had taken a decidedly chilly turn and the seemingly ever-present rain cast a dreary gray pall over London.  After submerging himself in a hot bath with a good book and small glass of port for half an hour; Benedict found his mood had improved vastly and he felt relaxed.  He donned his favourite lounge pants, t-shirt, dressing gown and slippers and went to his kitchen where he perused his large collection of takeaway menus.  

_Hmmm…what do I fancy having tonight?  I’m feeling fairly ravenous.  Ah, Benedict, you dolt!  It’s Friday night!  Fish and chips it is then.  Now, which chippy shall I order from?_

Benedict finally decided on Oliver’s Fish and Chips and placed an order for their batter-fried cod and chips, along with a side of homemade mushy peas with mint.  The girl on the other end of the phone promised that his order would be delivered within ten minutes, which always amused Benedict as the actual time elapsed, usually bordered on twenty.  He returned the menu to his collection, popped open a can of ginger beer and grabbed a handful of honey-roasted peanuts as he was feeling peckish.  

_I think I’ll give Donna a call and see if she’s received the photos of those motherfucking replacement orchids yet._

Benedict went to his desk where he had already booted up his laptop before he got into the bath. He sat in his swivel desk chair and made himself comfortable before signing into Skype.  He found that Donna was already sighed in. 

_She’s finally learnt to leave it on all the time for me too, bless her. Let’s see.  It’s almost seven here; so it’s almost two in the afternoon there.  I wonder if Donna’s home?  I know her friend was flying in from LA today; but I don’t recall the exact time.  
_

To Benedict’s delight, the call chime alerted him that Donna was trying to call him.  He clicked on her icon and realized he was grinning ear-to-ear with anticipation. 

_I still get those butterflies in my stomach whenever I’m about to see her.  By now I would have thought they would have settled down, but they are always present.  I hope they never go away._

There was Donna, sitting at the desk in her bedroom with her black and white cow mug in hand.  She was wearing a bright red jumper with the sleeves pushed up over her elbows, which reminded him of Wanda’s habit of doing likewise when wearing long sleeves. Her long, chestnut brown hair was held back with a matching bright red headband scattered with white snowflakes.   

“Hey, Handsome!  Long time, no Skype!  I almost forgot what you look like,” Donna said demurely, while batting her eyelashes at him.  

Benedict laughed, scooted back in his chair and held out his arms.  “Here I am! Drink me in.” 

Donna pretended to take her time looking him over.  “Ah!  Thank you! That’s just what I needed.  I was very thirsty.” 

“Always happy to oblige, Love.  Now, if you wouldn’t mind allowing me a moment in turn to do the same….” 

Donna giggled and moved her chair back so Benedict could see the rest of her.  She heard him sigh with longing as he took in her black pencil skirt.  Her legs were crossed, which hiked up the skirt to her mid thighs.  

_I love that skirt on her. I wonder if she realizes I can see up her thighs. Oh, what I wouldn’t give to be lying in between those creamy thighs, licking her sweet juices._

“Your Alice band looks very… seasonal,” Benedict commented, while clearing his throat.  

“Well, Christmas season is in full swing here.  Carly and I decorated the outside of the house on Monday.   Did you get the pictures?” 

“Yes, the house looks very lovely and festive. I especially fancied the holly and greenery in the window boxes.” 

As Benedict’s eyes reached her cow head slipper clad feet, he barked out a laugh and slapped the arm of his chair.  

“What’s so funny?” she demanded with a mock pout. 

“Those bloody cow slippers ruin the affect, I’m afraid,” Benedict laughed.  

“I wasn’t trying for seductive.  I was trying for appropriate to go out to dinner in.” 

“I’d strongly recommend changing your shoes then.  People will laugh.” 

“Very funny!” 

“I thought so.  Do you intend to greet your house guest in those bovine slippers?” 

“Of course. Giada knows how much I love cows.  Don’t worry, I’ve got a pair of black heels all ready to put on when we leave.” 

“Has she arrived yet?” 

“She just got picked up at JFK and is en route as we speak.” 

“I thought you would have picked her up.” 

“Nope.  The Food TV Network sent a limo to pick her up being she’s here on business.” 

“That must be nice to have a driver,” mused Benedict as he munched on some of the peanuts. 

“Yep. It must be.  By the way, I haven’t seen _all_ of you yet,” Donna said with a meaningful gaze aimed at the lower half of his body.  “You’ve got all the good stuff hidden.” 

Benedict snorted and wagged a long index finger at her playfully.  “You’re a very spoilt girl.  Perhaps if you ring me back before I turn in for the night, we can have a mutual viewing of the ‘good stuff’ – as you so quaintly put it.” 

Donna fixed him with a look.  “You don’t play fair.” 

“Yes, I most certainly do.  I’ll even go all the way like you did for me.”  Benedict raised his leg and pulled up one of his lounge pant legs so she could see he was wearing dark blue socks with owls in nightshirts and night caps.   The background had moons and stars. “Feast your eyes on these socks.  Are they not the bees’ knees?”  He chortled and waggled his eyebrows at her. 

“Hahahaha!  They’re adorable!  Wanda strikes again!” 

“Yeah, leave it to Mum to seek out socks with owls on them, bless her.  She must spend her days going around to all the men’s’ shops seeking them out.” 

“So, what do you have in mind for our chat tonight?  Naked Skyping?” 

Benedict blinked in surprise and smiled widely at her.  “Now, that’s a genius idea, which I’ll be happy to take you up on.  However, it would be nice if you were to start out wearing one of those see-through nighties you’ve got stashed away in the bottom of your dresser.” 

Donna widened her eyes and clapped her hand over her mouth as she pretended to be horrified at his words.  Then she started to laugh.  “You’re such a snoop, Benedict Cumberbatch!”  

“I prefer to call it curious,” sniffed Benedict.  He ate the rest of the peanuts. “Besides I had every right to be in that drawer as I was putting the wash away for you.”  

“Which one caught your eye?” 

Benedict lowered his head and smiled bashfully at her.  “I fancy that black one.” 

“Which black one?” 

“The only black see-through one you own.  It’s just plain with a ruffle at the neck and bottom with little pink flowers embroidered on the ruffles.  It’s got a matching thong as well. I’d really fancy seeing you in that ensemble.” 

Donna inhaled sharply as she recognized which one he was talking about.    _Holy shit!  I remember when I bought that one.  It was supposed to be for my honeymoon whenever I got married and leaves nothing to the imagination._

Benedict was openly leering at her.  _I’d love nothing more than to see her in that little wisp of a nighty.  Christ, I’m starting to get stiff just imagining it.  
_

_My honey has a taste for Agent Provocateur lingerie.  Every time I wear something from their collection, it gets an immediate reaction from him. I bet he’s getting hard just from thinking about it._

“That one is nothing more than a flimsy piece of black chiffon with embroidered trim.   It would be like sitting here naked talking to you.” 

Benedict smiled lasciviously at her and winked.  “Yes, I realize that.” 

“I wouldn’t feel comfortable.  I’d feel exposed.” 

“Yes, I know.  It’s meant to be a treat for me - eye candy, if you will. It would be akin to a tipple.” 

“If you were here in person with me, and I was wearing it in bed with you, I wouldn’t feel so…naked.” 

“That’s bollocks!  We’ve seen every inch of each other, we’ve touched every inch of each other, we’ve tasted every inch of each other and done other sordid things too numerous to mention – unless you want me to.” 

Donna raised her hand.  “There’s no need.  What you said is all true.” 

“It’s not as if we’ve never been together before.  We’re as intimate as two people can be.” 

“That’s true.  You even pee in front of me and think nothing of it.” 

“Then stop being such a twat about my enjoying the sight of your gorgeous body.  You know what a tart I am for racy lingerie.  It makes me incredibly randy.” 

“We won’t get much talking done.”  

“Erm…that’s the idea.  We do a little talking, then a little… self-gratifying together.”  . 

“How about if I wear the navy blue chemise with the lace?  You really liked that one.” 

“Yes, but I’ve already seen it as you pointed out.  The idea is to see you in something new and more revealing.”  He crinkled his nose and smiled at her 

“Giada will be here.” 

Benedict raised his eyebrows at her.  “Problem?” 

“Well…” 

“Is she to be in your bedroom then?  I thought she was staying in your guest room?” 

“Wiseass.  Of course she’ll be sleeping in the guest room.” 

“Well then?” 

Donna shook her head.  “I won’t feel comfortable having a sexy Skype chat with her in the house.  She might go downstairs and here us from the hallway.” 

Benedict regarded her with a bemused expression.  “Tell you what.  We’ll be sure to whisper. And in order to entice you further, I’ll even wear your favourite pajamas.  The black silk ones.” 

Donna made a face.  “Oh, you have to do better than that.  You’re completely covered up in pajamas.  If you’re going to entice me, then you need to let me see some naked skin as well.” 

_Which shouldn’t rattle my honey in the least.  Heck, the man has done nude scenes in front of a camera and small film crew for God’s sake.  He’s also  spoken to me naked on Skype before.  Benedict is very comfortable being around me without clothes.  
_

“Shall I wear my owl boxers then?  Would that enough to entice you?”

“Shut up!  You’re teasing me!” guffawed Donna. “There’s no way you would let Wanda buy you owl underwear!” 

Benedict started to laugh along with her.  “You may perish that thought.  No, Mum has not graduated to buying me pants, nor will she.  The last time she did that I was going to Harrow.  I’m perfectly capable of buying my own pants.” _  
_

“Seriously, you’ve got owl underwear?” 

Benedict nodded.  “Care to see?  I’m wearing them now.” 

Donna nodded eagerly.  “Yeah!  Strip, please!” 

“Alright then.  I hope you’re ready for this,” teased Benedict.  

He rose and slowly untied his lounge pants, allowing them to slip over and off his slender hips and onto his feet.  As advertised, Benedict was wearing red boxer briefs with blue bespectacled owls and trying hard to suppress a giggle. 

“Woooo hooo!  I love them!  They’re so cute!” exclaimed Donna, applauding enthusiastically.  

“I feel like a complete and utter arse stood here.” 

“Are you kidding me???  No way, Sir.  You look sexy as hell in those!” 

“That’s how I’ll feel when I see you in your naughty black nighty. I’m sure you’ll look as sexy as hell as well.” 

“That rhymed.” 

“I meant what I said, Donna.  I love your body and you shouldn’t still feel shy being naked around me after all this while.  You seem to find my body attractive and want to ogle it, so what’s the difference if I feel the same way about yours?”  

Donna smiled at him as their eyes met.  She could see the love in his.  “Touché, Ben Honey.  You’re right as usual.  So, what drew you to this particular pair of undies?” 

“I thought the owls looked cool.” 

“Turn around.  I need to get the rear view, please!” 

Benedict obliged her by turning around and wiggling his ample bottom at her.  “Happy?” 

“Oh yes!  I love how they hug your butt.  Good choice!” 

Donna watched as Benedict pulled up his lounge pants and tied the string. 

“So, if I were to wear the black see-through chemise, what do I get for eye candy?” 

“You really are a greedy girl.  I just showed you my owl pants and my bum as a bonus.  What more could you possibly want?” 

Donna shook her head.  “That was good for starters, but you’ve got to show me more skin.  I want to see your package.” 

Benedict paused to consider her words for a moment while rubbing the back of his neck.  “Erm…how about if I wear those black mesh pants with the skull and crossbones?  Would those please you, Darling?” 

“Now you’re talking!  Those are my favorites!” 

“Shall we meet back here around midnight London time?” 

Donna nodded slowly as she quickly calculated the timing. “I should be back from dinner by then.  I made an early reservation at Felidia’s for some old world Italian.  The whole bridal party is meeting there to discuss bridesmaid dress ideas before we go to Vera Wang’s tomorrow.  I’m sure they’ll want to go to bed early, so I’ll be able to make my excuses.” 

“Splendid,” smiled Benedict. “I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to it.” 

“Me, too,” Donna smiled back at him.  

Benedict sipped his ginger beer.  “Did you get the photos I sent?” 

“Yes, I meant to tell you; but we got side-tracked with our underwear discussion.  I can’t thank you enough for doing that for me, Benedict.  It was a great idea you had.  I never would have thought of going to the store where Marco purchased the orchids to buy exact replacements.” 

“The idea came to me when Andrew and I were batting around ideas after I told him the new plants would never pass Marco’s inspection or yours.” 

“They didn’t pass inspection via Skype, so I can only imagine what they looked like in person.” 

“Pathetic is what they were.  Anyway, I can’t believe how easy it was.  Andrew and I went around to the shop where Marco bought the orchids and asked if they might have a record of what he purchased.  It was lucky for us that the shop owner was able to look it up and sell us exact replacements.  Did I set them in the right spots?” 

“Yep.  It all looks exactly as it was, thanks to you.  Was the bill astronomical?” 

Benedict nodded.  “Oh, yeah.  I almost shat myself when the florist presented me with it.” 

“It’s a good thing I got that raise, huh?” 

“We are all in agreement that we don’t expect you to pay for this folly.  Andrew and Stephen insisted on paying for the whole thing, but I wouldn’t hear of it.  I’m the one who set things in motion when I left the fucking things in Andrew’s care with shoddy instructions, so we’re going to split the bill three ways.” 

“But I wrote down very specific instructions.” 

“Which I in turn misplaced, so I told him what I could from memory.” 

“Thank you, but I still feel I should contribute something being I asked in the first place.” 

“You can pay for their food then.” 

Donna nodded.  “No problem.”  She heard the doorbell sound in Benedict’s apartment.  “Expecting company?  Are you having a pajama party with your friends?” 

“It’s Oliver’s with my dinner!  Be right back,” replied Benedict brightly as he got up and dashed out of sight of the camera, enabling Donna to see some of his living room.  

_I see the fireplace is on.  The weather channel shows that it’s been raining on and off for the past few days.  It must be full dark out by now.  I recall Ben saying that it gets dark close to four in the afternoon this time of year._

Donna checked her phone to see that Giada had sent a text saying that she was sitting in traffic on the Queensboro Bridge and the driver estimated her arrival time at Donna’s to be within the hour.  She heard Benedict slam the door to his apartment and he came back into view, flopping down in his chair and setting a white paper bag on his desk. He sniffed at the bag and smiled. 

“Ah this smells heavenly!” 

“What are you having tonight?” 

“The usual:  Oliver’s batter-fried cod, chips and mushy peas with a touch of mint,” replied Benedict, ripping the bag open.  “Ah…look at this!”  He unwrapped the food and held up the cardboard boat-shaped container so she could see his dinner. 

“That looks yummy!” 

Benedict bit into the fish.  “Mmmm…it is quite yummy.  Did you hear that crunch?  Now this is proper fish and chips.” 

“Why did you say it was the usual?  You’ve gotten different things at Oliver’s besides fish and chips.  I thought you would have met up with James and gotten something more exotic.” 

“James and I are having a catch up dinner tomorrow night at Coya in Mayfair for Peruvian fare.” 

“Make sure to take lots of nice photos and notes.  I need to see the dish from every angle.” 

“Sorry to disappoint you, Darling; but you will only be seeing the food from one angle.  I’m only taking photos once.  I’m not a bloody food stylist.” 

“Give James my love.” 

Benedict drank some ginger beer and stifled a burp.  “Will do.” 

“You didn’t have to have fish and chips tonight.  Hampstead has plenty of different restaurants that do takeout.” 

Benedict nodded as he ate a chip.  “I realize that; but it’s Friday, so it’s got to be either fish and chips or macaroni cheese for me when I’m eating alone,” he laughed.  “I’m afraid it’s a habit long ingrained in me since childhood.” 

“You’re a creature of habit,” laughed Donna. 

“That’s because we always ate one or the other on Friday nights.  You’ll have to blame Mum.” 

Donna sipped her tea as Benedict ate some of his chips, which he sprinkled with malt vinegar.  He looked up at her self-consciously. 

“Are you staring at me?  Christ, Donna, you’ve seen me eat before.” 

“I really missed seeing your handsome face.” 

“Christ!” Benedict muttered, wiping the grease from his fingers.  “I’m so sorry that this is the first we’ve had a chance to have a proper chat.  The only excuse I can offer is that I’ve been so terribly busy with work.  I count myself lucky to have any free time at all.  I suppose it’s an embarrassment of riches to keep being offered work yes?” 

“Of course it is!  That’s okay.  I do understand, Benedict.  It’s important for an actor to have jobs lined up.  I still enjoy getting your daily emails.” 

Benedict forked up some of the peas.  “Next week should be better…I hope.” 

“I thought you weren’t a fan of mushy peas.” 

“I’m not a fan of most mushy peas.  These, I like.  I think because they leave some whole for texture and the mint really makes it pop.  It adds a freshness.” 

“Holy cow!  Do I really sound like that?” 

“Yeah.  Exactly like that, now that I think about it!” giggled Benedict. “Where in the hell did you think I got it from?” 

“Hmmm…I suppose imitation really is the sincerest form of flattery.”

“That it is, Love.” 

_Why hasn’t he mentioned what happened with the church and Kenwood House yet?  I guess I have to bring it up._

“Have you made any progress?” Donna asked hesitantly. 

“Erm…I already told you the orchids have been sorted out.  That is major progress in my book.” 

Donna didn’t say anything.  _Is he not mentioning the wedding on purpose?_

“Was there something else I was supposed to do?” he asked her with a twinkle in his ice blue eyes. 

“Um…yeah.  You were going to take care of a few wedding-related things; but if you were too busy, I understand.” 

“No. No.  I did exactly as I promised I would,” he replied hesitantly. “I contacted both the church and the curator of Kenwood House.” 

“I’m not liking your tone of voice.  What’s wrong?” 

“I wouldn’t say anything were wrong…exactly.” 

“Jesus Christ!  I knew it!  Why is it that nothing goes smoothly?” 

“Donna!  Please let me finish what I was going to say.  There’s no need for alarm,” said Benedict slowly, making a calming gesture at her with his hands.  

“It’s already too late for that.  I’m starting to freak out here. When were you going to tell me what happened?” 

“I was trying to decide whether it was best to email or tell you on Skype.  Actually, I had prepared an email but then I came to realize that sometimes the written word can be misinterpreted, so I scraped it in favour of waiting until we could actually see and hear each other. There’s no need to get excited. Really there isn’t.  I don’t consider it of paramount importance. We’ll find a way to sort it out one way or another.”

 Donna rolled her eyes and took a deep breath in an effort to calm herself.  _I’m going to leap through this fucking computer screen and throttle him if he doesn’t come out with it already!  Oh, I forgot just how maddening he can be when he starts to waffle!_

“What exactly is it that we need to sort out, Benedict?” 

Benedict Cumberbatch ate some more fish and chips before replying.  Then he drank some of the ginger beer.  Finally, he leaned back in his chair, crossed his legs and stared straight at her.  

“Alright then.  It’s like this:  I have some good news and some not-so-good news about the wedding.  Which would you fancy hearing first?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I know nothing about maintaining orchids. I've only done a bit of internet research.
> 
> 2\. Olivers really does exist in Hampstead and makes fantastic fish and chips.
> 
> 3\. Happy Halloween everyone!


	146. Chapter 146

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Benedict finally shares his good and bad news with Donna.

 

 

Benedict Cumberbatch leaned back in his black leather desk chair with wood trim, crossed his legs and stared straight at Donna Saint James.  

“Alright then,” he said, clearing his throat.  “It’s like this:  I have some pretty good news and some not-so-good news.  Which would you fancy hearing first?” 

Donna stared back into his ice blue eyes.  For once she had trouble reading his motives. 

_Shit. Not-so-good news obviously means he’s trying to soften the blow.    Pretty good news doesn’t sound so hot either._

Donna felt her heart sink as she watched him carefully pat his cupids bow lips with a napkin.  She considered her choices for a moment and sighed deeply.  

“I choose neither.” 

“Please stop being so pessimistic, Darling.  Have I been under the false impression all this time that you pride yourself on being an optimist then?” 

“No.  I’m an optimist.” 

“Then why don’t you want to hear my news?” 

“Because the way you phrased it sets off warning bells that there are complications that aren’t going to please me.” 

“That’s true,” agreed Benedict, sipping some ginger beer.  “My intent was  to imply that there were some unpleasant ramifications attached to both pieces of news.  Now, since neither is going to change, which shall I tell you first?” 

“The bad, I suppose.  I always like to get bad news over with first, as it gives me something to look forward to.” 

“Excellent choice, Love. I always prefer to hear the worst case scenario first as well.” 

_I’ll remember that for if the time ever comes that you find out about the plan. Though what would I tell him is the good part?  That we met and got together on our own, of course._

“It’s the eternal optimist in me,” said Donna, forcing a weak smile. 

Benedict nodded.  “We’ll start with our choice of reception venue.  When I rang Kenwood House, they put me through to the Hospitality Coordinator who informed me that the house is currently undergoing a ten-month restoration.” 

“Oh, no,” said Donna in a small voice.  “Is December next year included as one of those months?” 

“The restoration is expected to be completed by June.” 

Donna’s hazel eyes lit up with excitement at his words. 

“That doesn’t sound like bad news to me, Honey.  It sounds like we’ll have a nice, newly restored venue to have our reception in!” 

Benedict held up a slender hand to silence her.  “Please allow me to finish.  The problem is the coordinator couldn’t tell me when they’ll be able to accept bookings for events again.   She explained that these restorations are often completed on schedule, but there is always the chance that they will last longer than expected.  It depends on the progress they make.  She pointed out that anything can cause a delay from the weather to not receiving materials on time.  Another cause for delay happens when an unexpected problem crops up that requires emergency repairs, such as a plumbing or structural issue that’s discovered during the course of the refurbishment.    In spite of their utmost diligence, the actual restoring process might also take longer than they originally estimated.” 

“How is this restoration coming along so far?” 

“She said they were mostly adhering to the schedule."

"Did she say just how extensive this restoration is going to be?"

"Yeah.  They're redecorating and reinterpreting eight rooms, focusing on the principal Adam Rooms and the Art Collection. She also mentioned that the slate roof also has to be repaired and that their internationally acclaimed collection of Old Masters and British paintings, the Iveagh Bequest, has to be restored and then rehung in the south front rooms."

"Holy cow!  That's an awful lot of work, Ben."

"True, but the coordinator assures me there was just one incident where they had difficulty locating vintage wallpaper that set them back a couple of weeks.” 

“That doesn’t sound too bad.  Does she have any idea as to when they might begin to accept bookings again?” 

“Not really – and before you say anything else, I did press her for some sort of estimate; but she was being quite obstinate. She refused to commit, but took my name, email and mobile number along with the date we’re interested in and promised to contact me as soon as they receive permission to start booking events again.” 

“Crap!  I knew it sounded too good to be true!” cried Donna, clearly disappointed.  “What a time for them to pick to do a restoration!” 

“The timing can’t be helped, Donna.  This is when the funds were made available to them. Perhaps things will work out in our favour.” 

“This means we’re going to have to look for an alternate venue.  It wouldn’t make sense for us to wait and see if Kenwood House is going to work out.  We don’t want to wind up with no venue at all.” 

“I’m afraid you’re right.  As much as it pains me to say it, we really should consider having our wedding breakfast elsewhere.  Mum’s friend, Judi came to call by the way and…” 

_What in the heck does Judi have to do with our wedding reception?  I guess we’re onto the next topic.  Did he say Judi as in Judi Dench?_

“Judi Dench just happened to drop by your apartment?” 

Benedict nodded.  “She did call first to make sure I’d be in as she had an engagement gift for us.  Naturally, we got to talking about the wedding, and Judi said…” 

“Good gravy!  We got an engagement gift from Judi Dench! What is it?” 

“I don’t know as I haven’t opened it yet.  I was saving it for when you came home.  I thought it would be nice for us to open all of our gifts together yes?” 

“We have multiple gifts??”  Donna asked excitedly. “You didn’t say anything about us receiving any gifts!” 

Benedict smiled at her and nodded.  “Yeah, we’ve been receiving gifts. Either people really have been reading those announcements or Mum put out a blast email to family and friends to inform them.  Heaven forbid we not get back what she gave out, bless her.” 

“I guarantee you that my mom did the same,” giggled Donna.  “I hope you didn’t think all those gifts we got were sent the end result of people reading the announcement in the Times.  That was the Neil and Toni Show at work, making sure all who ‘owed’ them knew about it.” 

“That’s disgusting and I refer to _both_ sets of parents when I say that.” 

“You’ll get no argument from me, Ben Honey.” 

Benedict grinned at her and threw up his arms in triumph.  “For once!  How utterly refreshing!” 

Donna stuck her tongue out at him, causing them to both laugh.  “Let’s get back to the gifts, please.” 

“When I arrived home, I found a notice that the post office was holding some and Bob downstairs had graciously signed for the others and kept them safe in his flat for us.  I’ll show you.”  

Benedict picked up his laptop and went down the hallway into his spare bedroom.  There was a work table in the room that was used to keep his art supplies on.  Donna saw that Benedict had  moved everything aside, and in their place was a modest pile of boxes in various sizes and several envelopes. 

“Voila! Our engagement gifts!  Drink them in!” 

“Wow!”  Donna clapped her hands together in delight.  “Who are they all from?” 

“The majority is from the Cumberbatch and Ventham sides of the family, as one might expect.  There are some from Mum and Dad’s friends and my friends:  Adam and Alice, Jimmy, Dennis and Suzanne, Mark and Juliette, Jesse…erm…forgive me, I meant to say _our_ friends.” 

“It’s okay.  I realize they were your friends first.  That was so nice of everyone!” 

“I thought so,” agreed Benedict, returning to his desk.  He picked up the last chip and sprinkled the last of the malt vinegar on it.  “I was pretty excited myself.” 

Donna eyed him suspiciously.  “So, you haven’t opened _any_ of these gifts or cards yet?” 

Benedict chewed and swallowed as he shook his head.  “Nope.  I swear on all that is holy that I’ve not touched a single one.” 

Donna smirked.  “I find that hard to believe.” 

“Believe.” 

“I could picture you standing over your induction kettle steaming open all the envelopes to see what’s inside them.” 

“One doesn’t have to use steam in order to covertly open an envelope.” 

_I bet one doesn’t.  I wonder what method he uses. I bet I can trip him up into slipping._

“I wonder if anyone still mails cash like my Nona and Popi do?” 

“No one sent us cash on this side of the pond.  It’s either personal cheques or gift cards.  A few were just cards to wish us well.  Not everyone sends gifts.” 

Donna smiled widely at him.  “That’s my Benedict, The Super Snooper of Hampstead.” 

Benedict’s face flushed scarlet at being caught. “Oh, for fucks sake! Bugger off, will you!” 

“Did you really steam them open or do you have another preferred method?” 

“There’s a way of doing it with a letter opener if one is very careful,” confessed Benedict with a trace of a smug smile on his handsome face.  

Donna burst out laughing.  “Ah HA!  I knew you couldn’t keep your hands off them!  You are so fucking nosy, Benedict!” 

_Shit.  I need to get my mouth filter permanently fixed.  Now Donna knows my shameful little secret. As if she was beyond reproach.  I’d fancy knowing what sneaky little things she does when she fancies having a snoop of her own._

“And you’re not?”  Benedict retorted with a raised eyebrow. 

“I have to admit that we’re equally matched when it comes to snooping.  We’re both so damn nosy.” 

_“Curious,”_ corrected Benedict with a shy smile. “We’re both very curious individuals.”  

“So, how much did we net?” 

“I didn’t bother writing it down, because I thought you’d prefer to make the entries into our gift book, as you have the better handwriting out of the two of us.  However, I’d estimate it to be a somewhat generous amount – though not nearly as generous as your family was.” 

_Generous.  What in the hell does that mean exactly?  It means he was feeling lazy to add it all up – even with a calculator.   I shouldn’t have expected it.  Benedict eschews anything involving numbers. He’s lucky he can motivate himself to balance his check book every month.  I’ll do it whenever I get back._

“It’s the thought that counts, Ben Honey.  What about the boxes?  What was inside them?” 

“I told you.  I didn’t touch the boxes,” he insisted. 

“Why not?” demanded Donna. “You opened the envelopes, so why not the boxes?  Did you suddenly develop an overwhelming sense of guilt?” 

“Fuck no! I didn’t open them because I don’t know of a way to do it without mussing the motherfucking gift wrap!” laughed Benedict.  “The willingness and desire were there, but not the necessary skills to carry it out, I’m afraid.” 

“When I get home, I’ll have to show you my method of getting inside a box without ruining the wrappings.  It does require time and a certain amount of patience...” 

“Which neither of us has an overabundance of,” snickered Benedict.  

“I’ve been doing it since I was a kid.  I started with Christmas presents.” 

Benedict spat out the ginger beer he had sipped.  “Christ on a crutch, Donna!  You’re every bit as bad as I am.  Damn!  Now, my motherfucking keyboard is full of ginger beer!”  He quickly grabbed a handful of tissues and began to blot it dry. 

“Will you show me how to open the envelopes when I get home?” 

“Of course.  We’ll have a private seminar on how to open things we shouldn’t.  In that way we’ll assure ourselves that we’ll never again be surprised.” 

“We both know how to keep secrets when we want or need to.  You can be very mysterious when you want to be, Ben.” 

“True.  Yeah…I guess it is.  I did manage to keep my proposal plans secret.” 

“That’s what I mean.  You can be a good little secret-keeper.” 

_And here I sit, the keeper of the biggest secret of all. If he only knew. I hope to God he never, ever finds out.  There will be hell to pay and worse._

“Well done me.  While we’re on the topic of secrets and being mysterious…I’ve been invited to take tea with Beryl Vertue tomorrow afternoon at half two.” 

“That was very sweet of her.  Is it supposed to be a secret?” 

“I’m not entirely sure, but it’s certainly mysterious. The only other time I’ve been invited to her flat was for my _Sherlock_ audition.” 

“Maybe she just wanted to get together with you for a friendly cup of tea – like a getting- to- know- your-employee- better kind of chat.” 

“Beryl said I was welcome to bring along my solicitor, but it wasn’t necessary.” 

Donna almost dropped her cow mug.  “Why on earth would she tell you to bring Dennis?  Are they going to fire you?” 

“I have reason to believe that she apparently suspects that I’ve breached my _Sherlock_ NDA.” 

“How do you know this?  Did she come out and say anything about it?”

“No.” 

“You would _neve_ r breach an NDA!” cried Donna indignantly. 

Benedict regarded her with raised eyebrows.  “No? You might want to think that over, Sweetheart. I’ve told you, my parents and Adam some things I shouldn’t have that I may come to regret.” 

“Like what?  What was so terrible that you told me about the show?” 

“That Mark was playing Mycroft for starters.” 

“That was supposed to be a secret?” 

“Yeah.  They want to keep the audience in suspense as to who his character actually is.” 

“When I first saw the pilot, I thought Mark was playing Moriarty for sure.” 

“Which brings us to the more serious violation:  I told you all that Andrew was playing Moriarty.  Mycroft’s identity is revealed at the conclusion of _A Study in Pink_ , which is the first episode. Moriarty’s identity is supposed to be kept top secret until _The Great Game_ is broadcast, which is the final episode.” 

“Oh, shit!” 

“That was my initial reaction as well.” 

"They really take this stuff seriously."

Benedict nodded and bit his lower lip.  "I'm afraid so."

“How would Beryl know what you did or didn’t tell us?” 

“She doesn’t.” 

“Oh that’s a relief!” 

“Not really.” 

“You don’t know for sure what she wants to see you about, Ben.  It could be that she just wants to keep in touch with you like I said before.  Didn’t you say she’s friends with Wanda?” 

“Yes, Mum and Beryl are friendly, but not like Judi and Mum are.  I’ve known Judi ever since I was a small.  Her daughter was an occasional playmate of mine; so it wouldn’t be weird for Judi to invite me to come around for a catch up.  Beryl it would be and it is.” 

“Oh, I see what you mean.  So Beryl must have a hidden agenda.” 

“She does.” 

“I thought you didn’t know.” 

“I’ve got a pretty fair idea.” 

“You’re making me dizzy Ben with all this waffling!” 

“Andrew gave me a heads up about it once the orchid business had been sorted.  It seems Beryl invited him around for tea as well in order to ask him if he had knowingly or unknowingly violated his NDA.  In particular, she asked if he had told anyone that he was playing Moriarty.  He hasn’t a clue as to what or who made her suspicious.” 

“Well, we both know he has violated it.  He told Stephen for sure.” 

“True.  He told Stephen just as I told you – and Mum and Dad.” 

“You know.” 

“I’m the star of the show.  I’m _supposed_ to know. You, my parents and Adam weren’t.” 

“Technically, I guessed that Andrew was playing Moriarty.” 

“Technically, you tricked Andrew and me into admitting it.  You never guessed Andrew was playing Moriarty.  You decided to go fishing for information that night, you nosy girl.” 

Donna batted her eyelashes at him.  “I was curious.” 

“Fine,” said Benedict with a toss of his head. “You were being curious.  Go on - as you were.” 

“You suffered a mouth filter malfunction, and Andrew had no choice but to confirm it.” 

“If I recall, Andrew and I were both tipsy that night.” 

“You two were more than tipsy.  You were both well on your way to being drunk.” 

“Which you took full advantage of.  However, I wasn't drunk enough that I don’t remember what happened that night.  I seem to also recall that you were convinced Andrew was playing John Watson.” 

Benedict and Donna both thought back to the conversation that occurred months ago in her flat when Andrew had joined them for pizza: 

 

**“So, are you two looking forward to working together on _Sherlock_?” asked Donna nonchalantly, spearing a black olive out of her salad with her fork. **

**“I honestly can’t wait!” gushed Andrew, sipping some wine. “This is the first time Ben and I will be working together.”**

**“Absolutely,” replied Benedict with equal enthusiasm. “It’s going to be such a treat. Mark Gatiss and Steve Moffat have assembled an extraordinarily talented cast. It’s an embarrassment of riches to be able to work with all these fine actors – present company included!”**

**“Is there anyone else I know in the show?” asked Donna casually.**

**“Well, you already know Mark Gatiss,” responded Benedict equally as nonchalantly. “He’s playing Mycroft Holmes, Sherlock’s elder brother.”**

**Donna smiled. “Oh, I had no idea that Mark was going to be acting in the show, too! Anyone else?”**

**“Yours truly,” giggled Andrew, as he pointed to himself.**

**“Una Stubbs is playing Mrs. Hudson, our landlady,” continued Benedict. “She’s also a close friend of my mum’s and such a treasure,” he smiled fondly. “I’ve known her for ages - ever since I was a small. Mum would take me out in my pram and meet Una in Hyde Park every day.”**

**“Oh, Una is just lovely!” chimed in Andrew. “And a brilliant actress.”**

**“Are you allowed to say that, Ben?” asked Andrew with a worried look.**

**“Why the hell not? It’s not as if I told her that you’re playing Moriarty,” began Benedict.**

**“I think you just did,” lamented Andrew shaking his head. “Um...that’s what you weren’t supposed to say, Ben.”**

**Benedict ran his hands through his hair. “Fuckity fuck fuck! I just violated the terms of the NDA! I can be sued if word gets out!”**

**Andrew looked at Donna and shrugged.**

**“And now you know. I’ve been cast as James Moriarty.  Please don’t tell a soul. We can both get in quite a bit of trouble for revealing that morsel,” implored Andrew.**

**“You can’t say anything about this!” warned Benedict. “Please promise me you won’t. Not your parents. Not Carly, not Steve.”**

**Donna crossed her heart. “I swear not to utter a word about it.”**

**“Especially since Mark Gatiss is one of your customer’s at Carldonn,” continued Benedict sternly. “It can _never_ get back to him, Donna! It’s one thing if _he_ decides to tell you, but he can’t find out it was _me_ who spilled the beans.” **

**“I won’t slip, guys. I’ll just delete it off my mental hard drive.”**

**“Thank you,” smiled Andrew with relief.**

**“So Martin Freeman really _is_ playing Dr. Watson. All this time I was convinced that you were Dr. Watson,” Donna said to Andrew. “I guess I was wrong,” she giggled.**

 

The couple studied each other for several moments.  Benedict was beginning to feel queasy from the fish and chips that had settled like lead in his stomach. 

“You told me that Mark Gatiss was playing Mycroft,” declared Donna.  “You never meant to tell me about Andrew. That was a major slip of the tongue.” 

“Which I never should have done,” moaned Benedict.  “That was the unhappy result of my having imbibed too much wine and having never learnt to keep my motherfucking mouth properly shut!” 

“Andrew had only said that he was in the show,” continued Donna. “You were the one who slipped and said he was playing Moriarty, which Andrew then confirmed.” 

“Well, he almost had to at that point,” scoffed Benedict.  “Fuckity fuck fuck!  Well done us.” 

“I swear I’ve never told anyone else, Benedict!  Just as I promised that night, I haven’t told my parents, Carly, Steve, no one!  I would never do anything to get either of you in trouble!” 

Benedict nodded.  “And I believe you.” 

“You still don’t know for sure if that’s what Beryl is going to ask you.  She may have different business to discuss with you then she did with Andrew.” 

“Then why tell me I could bring along Dennis?  She’s never met him.” 

“Hmmm…that’s a good point. What are you going to say if she comes out and asks you?” 

“That I didn’t tell a soul.” 

“What did Andrew tell her?” 

“The same. That he told no one.  He was afraid of what would happen if he even said Stephen knew, let alone you.” 

“Oh, that’s ridiculous.  Beryl Vertue must know deep down inside that he told Stephen.  Why he’s Andrew’s partner!  It’s only natural that he would share something like that with him or you would confide in me.” 

Benedict fixed her with a look and raised an eyebrow at her.  “Is it?” 

“No?” 

“No.  Oh, there’s an awful lot you have yet to learn about the entertainment industry, _Sweetheart_.” 

“That was the sarcastic version of Sweetheart.” 

“Yeah, it was.  Producers and directors take those NDA’s very seriously.” 

“I hope you can pull it off convincingly tomorrow.” 

“As do I.  It’ll prove if I’m a decent or rubbish actor, yes?” 

“I think you’ll be fine.  Here’s some unsolicited advice: The less you say, the better.  Don’t elaborate or start waffling like you do sometimes.” 

“You’re sage advice has been taken.  I’ll do my best to mind my mouth filter.” 

“Getting back to our wedding, are we in agreement that we should look for another venue to have our reception at?” 

“Possibly.” 

Donna pretended to bang her head on the desktop.  “What in the fuck is that supposed to mean?  You just said they’re doing extensive renovations.  How can we book our wedding reception at Kenwood House if they won’t allow it?” 

“The woman said that if they keep making steady progress and adhere to the schedule, Kenwood House will be reopening in July, so we should – in all likelihood - be able to have our wedding breakfast there.” 

“That’s a big if, Benedict.  So much can go wrong and cause delays.” 

“I thought you were an optimist."

"The cards seem stacked against us right now.  We can't just wait around until the last minute.  There are lots of things that have to be decided once we actually book our venue.  We don't want to be rushing around London at the last minute looking for a place."

"Yeah.  Well, you’re right, of course.  Even though I really had my heart set on Kenwood House, we can’t put all of our hopes in one basket.” 

“That’s right.  It’s too risky.” 

“I think I’m going to brew myself a cuppa.  My stomach’s feeling a bit poorly. Be right back.” 

Benedict disappeared from view in order to make himself a cup of tea to settle his stomach.  When he returned, Donna was still sitting there, sipping her own tea and seemingly lost in her own thoughts.  Benedict waved his hand in front of the camera and snapped his fingers in order to get her attention. 

“Hello? Donna?  Are you still with me?” 

Donna blinked as he had startled her out of her reverie.   Then she smiled and held up her cup, so he could see inside it.  “Yep.  I’m sitting here drinking my loose leaf decaf English Breakfast tea, which I brewed for three minutes in my handy-dandy tea infuser spoon that someone bought me.” 

_I’m glad to see she’s making use of the infuser and the tea I stocked her pantry with_ , thought Benedict with satisfaction.  _I told her to brew it for five minutes, but I see she still insists on three. If it pleases her, who am I to criticize?_

“What kind are you drinking?” 

“Earl Grey,” replied Benedict taking sip. “Made from a sachet.  I was feeling too lazy tonight to brew it properly,” he chuckled.    

“Ben, do you know if Kenwood House was really that bad inside?” 

“I haven’t been inside recently. I’d say the last time was three years ago at least; but Judi told me she was there just prior to the start of the renovations.” 

“Judi Dench was there?  Why didn’t you tell me this?” 

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck. “Erm…Because we got sidetracked with other things.   When Judi came around, I invited her to stay and have a cuppa with me so we could have a proper chat.  I was telling her of our wedding plans, and Judi said it was a good thing they were restoring Kenwood House as she had recently been to an event there and thought it rundown and not the best choice for a wedding breakfast.” 

“Oh.  So I guess it really needed to be redone.  Crap! I was so looking forward to seeing it.  I guess we’ll just have to start over.  Where do you suggest we look?” 

“Well, Judi did make a couple of suggestions as to alternatives, if you’re interested in hearing them.” 

Donna nodded eagerly.  “Such as?” 

“Well, Judi said she thought the Kensington Roof Gardens was one of the loveliest venues in London to host a wedding breakfast.” 

“Hmmm…your mom mentioned it also in passing.” 

“Mum mentions nothing in passing,” snickered Benedict.  “The Roof Gardens are part of her agenda.  She’s mentioned it to me several times now as the perfect place to have our wedding breakfast.” 

“Our chef, Maria, went to a wedding there in June; and it sounds beautiful,” said Donna. “Have you been there?” 

“Yeah.  We had dinner up there on my birthday last year.  I think you might fancy it.  There’s no harm in having a look yes?” 

“Let’s arrange to have lunch or dinner there as soon as I get back.” 

“I was also going to suggest having a look at one of the major hotels – such as the Mayfair.  I’ve attended a couple of events there and thought they did a lovely job.” 

“Alright.  We’ll add the Mayfair Hotel to our list of alternates.  What about the Kensington Palace Orangery?”  _AKA the scene of the crime._

“It might be a tad too small for our needs. We might need a marquee erected on their terrace or lawn for the night do.” 

“It won’t hurt to add it to our list.” 

“What about the Ivy Club?  Did you forget I’m a member?  I’m sure we’d get a discount.” 

“I don’t remember the private dining rooms being very large.” 

“There’s also the Garrick Club.  I know they do weddings as well.  Dad could get us a discount being he’s a member.” 

“No Garrick Club.  They discriminate against women.” 

Benedict held up his hands in surrender. “ Okay. Fine. We probably should draw up our guest list before we delve into this further, yes?” 

Donna nodded.  “That’s an excellent point.  We need to know how many people we’re dealing with before we visit these places.” 

“We agreed to keep it small and intimate.” 

“What’s your idea of small and intimate?” 

Benedict rubbed his chin as he thought for a moment.  “Mmmm…fewer than one hundred people, which is what I told the woman at Kenwood House when she inquired as to how many guests we planned on having.” 

“That was also my thought.  How about you put together a first draft list for your side, and I’ll do one for mine.   Make sure to include your friends in yours as well, and I’ll do the same. Then we’ll whittle them down to something approaching manageable, which shouldn’t take all that long.” 

“We both know we’re going to wind up with over a hundred guests,” sighed Benedict. “There are just some people who can’t be left off for various reasons.”

 _Like Uncle Rodney and Aunt Bea.  I wouldn't dream of leaving them off the guest list; but I know Benedict and his parents won't be thrilled._

_I just know Donna's going to insist on inviting that wanker Rodney Renfield and his wife.  Ugh!_

“Oh, I realize it and fully expect to do battle with my parents over it. We just need to get it done, Ben.  We have to have some type of rough estimate as to the number of guests before we meet with these wedding planners.  The longer we wait, the harder these places will be to book. Wedding plans are often made a year in advance.” 

“A wedding breakfast venue isn’t a prime concern yet, Darling. Once we’ve sorted out the guest list, then we can go around and have a look at the various venues; but I need you back in London to do that.  However, you’re forgetting one little detail - finding a place to have the actual marriage ceremony in is paramount, don’t you agree?” 

Donna smacked her forehead with the heel of her palm. “Crap! What’s wrong with me?  I forgot all about the church!  That is the most important detail!  We need someplace to get married before we can plan the reception. Did you call the churches?” 

“Yeah, I did.” 

“And?  I hope this is your pretty good news.  I don’t know if I could handle any more of the not-so-good variety.” 

“Yes, this definitely qualifies as the better news of the two.  I’m happy to report back that I’ve made tremendous progress as far as the church is concerned.  I met with Vicar Dilby at Saint Mary Abbot in Kensington.  He’s the one who christened me. After explaining our situation, the vicar has given me his verbal approval and has added us to the church calendar to be married there on December Fourth of next year at eleven in the morning,” Benedict said with a huge smile. 

Donna returned the smile.  “Oh, that is wonderful news, Benedict!  The best!” 

“There are a few details that have to be attended to by both of us first though.” 

“Oh.  This is what you meant by ‘pretty good’.  Let’s hear it.” 

“It’s nothing horrible, I assure you. First of all, I have to obtain formal written permission to marry a non-Anglican in the church, which Vicar Dilby said won’t present a problem.” 

“So far, so good.” 

“The next part concerns you if wish to have our marriage recognized by the Catholic Church.” 

“I do, provided we can make it happen without too much grief.” 

“From what I recall during our conversation with Father Matt, you will have to obtain permission to marry a non-Catholic in a non-Catholic church, presided over by an officiant other than a Roman Catholic priest for our marriage to be recognized by the Catholic Church.” 

Donna nodded.  “Yes, I remember all that.  I also have to promise to not convert and do my best to see that any children we have are baptized and brought up as Catholics.  You didn’t have to make any promises.” 

“We already discussed that and its fine with me.  Our religions are very similar.  As long as our children are christened and brought up with beliefs common to both of us, I don’t foresee any problems.” 

“I’ll give Father Matt a call first thing Monday morning to find out what I have to do to get the ball rolling on this end.” 

“Once we’ve gotten everything sorted with the churches, and you’re back in London, Vicar Dilby will want to sit down with both of us for some pre-marriage counseling to make sure we’re suited to each other.  It’s more of a formality he explained.” 

“That’s fine by me.  The Catholic Church also requires what they call a pre-Cana class with the parish priest.  I’ll ask Father Matt how we’re going to handle that.” 

“It would seem reasonable to take any required course in London.  There are plenty of Catholic parishes here.” 

“I’ll be sure to mention that to Father Matt.” 

“So, was my good news to your liking then?  We’ve got our wedding date cast in stone and the church booked.” 

“That wasn’t just pretty good news – that was the best news you could have given me!  I’m so happy, Benedict Honey!  I can’t believe we have an actual ceremony venue and our date is set!”  Donna wiped tears of joy from her eyes.  

_Ah, she just called me Benedict Honey.  She doesn’t get any happier than that.  Well done me._

“Do you realize that we’ll be husband and wife in just one year from today?” 

“You’re right!  Today’s December fourth!” 

Benedict crinkled his nose and gave her a dimpled smile.  “We’re actually going to be married.  I’m so over the moon, Darling.” 

“So am I!  I can’t believe it! It’s so exciting!” 

“Isn’t it just?” 

“By the way, how close is the church to your parents’ home?” 

“Within easy walking distance – under five minutes, I’d say. Why?” 

“We could try and arrange for a block of rooms at the Royal Garden Hotel.  That way everyone will be close to the church and your parents.” 

“That’s a brilliant idea. I can look into that whilst you’re in New York,” Benedict offered. 

“That would be great, but I can also do that from here via Skype and email. Gosh, there’s suddenly so much to do!  We have to find a venue for the reception, plan our honeymoon and figure out what to do about living arrangements.  I’d better update my spreadsheet tonight.” 

Benedict gazed at her warily through narrowed eyes. “What spreadsheet?” 

“The one I made up for our wedding.  It’s how I’m going to keep track of all our plans, appointments and expenditures.” 

“Blimey! When in the fuck did you have time to do that?” 

“I took my Disney vacation template and just tweaked it for our wedding.  I use it for all my planning.” 

The corners of Benedict’s mouth threatened to turn up into a bemused smile. 

“You have a Disney vacation template?” 

“Of course!  How can you plan a vacation without one?” 

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck.  “Erm…I don’t need a bloody spreadsheet to plan out _my_ holidays.” 

Donna fixed him with a look.  “Really? What do you do?” 

“I simply decide where I fancy going on holiday and choose some dates.  Then I either ring up my travel agent or just book the flights and hotel myself.  It’s quite simple, really – and no spreadsheets are involved.” 

“What about your meals?” 

“What about them?” 

“Don’t you make reservations at the restaurants you want to eat at?” 

Benedict snorted.  “Of course not!  When I get hungry, I look to see what’s around and just pop in…” 

“Without a reservation.” 

“Yessss.  You’d be surprised how well that works.”

Donna looked horrified at his response. 

“And if they can’t accommodate you?” 

“I go elsewhere.” 

“What if you _really_ had your heart set on eating at that particular restaurant?” 

“Then I’d make a booking for another night and then go elsewhere.” 

“If you had made a reservation before you left home, you wouldn’t have to worry.” 

Benedict snorted.  “Trust me, Darling.  I don’t worry about where I’m going to eat, yet I always manage to find a lovely spot to enjoy a meal in.” 

Donna rolled her eyes. 

“I take that eye roll to mean you think I’m crackers.”

“It does.” 

“I suppose you record all your meal bookings on that nifty little spreadsheet of yours yes?” 

“Damn right I do.” 

“That’s bollocks if you don’t mind my saying so,” chortled Benedict. 

“I do mind.” 

“Sorry, I don’t mean to be so snarky about it; but I do find it rather…” 

_Be careful with your choice of words, Benedict.  She’s not looking very happy with you right now.  
_

“…unusual.  No one I know makes up a spreadsheet every time they go on holiday.  Mum has always just made a list of things to pack.” 

“I have a tab at the bottom on my spreadsheet for things to pack.  This saves me from making a list every time I go away.  I just have to tweak it for the climate and activities.” 

“Jolly good for you.” 

“How do you handle packing?” 

“I check the weather forecast the night before I leave and pull out whatever I need and pack it straight into my luggage.” 

_I should have known that would be his answer.  
_

“However, you’ve taught me that it pays to leave some items packed for the next trip, like my travel slippers and shaving kit.” _  
_

“That’s after you replenish it first.  If you don’t check it, you might find you’ve run out of something – like shaving cream.” 

“I usually dispense with shaving whilst I’m on holiday.  It’s a treat for me.” 

Donna said nothing. _  
_

_Ah, her silence speaks volumes.  No:  'that's okay Ben Honey. I completely understand you're not wanting to shave whilst on holiday, and it's fine with me'.  She disapproves of my not shaving.  Too bad._

“What other things do you list on this spreadsheet?  I suppose you list all your activities as well yes?” 

“Of course!  When I knew I was coming to London, I booked theatre tickets in advance and made note of them on my spreadsheet.   When I took a cruise, I booked special shore excursions in advance and made note of them as well – not that Roy went with me that time.” 

Benedict sat still and sipped his tea with a thoroughly amused expression on his face.  He covered his mouth as he began to titter.  _I’ve never heard of such bullshit in all my life! A list, I can understand; but not a spreadsheet!_

“I see you find my spreadsheet system amusing.” 

“It is a bit over the top – don’t you think?”  Benedict crinkled his nose at her and smiled.  

“Wait a minute,” said Donna.  “You need to actually see what a useful tool this is.” She minimized her screen and began to type furiously.  “Okay.  Check your email. It’s in your inbox.” 

Benedict saw that he indeed had an email from Donna.  He opened the attachment to behold a very intricate spreadsheet with various tabs at the bottom labeled packing, reservation confirmation numbers, restaurants and additional information that Donna deemed necessary to plan her holidays.  It was both colour-coded and number-coded. 

“Bloody hell!”  Blurted out an astonished Benedict. “It boggles my mind just to look at the first tab!” 

“This is the spreadsheet I did the last time I went to Disney World on vacation,” announced Donna proudly. “Isn’t it the most organized thing you’ve ever seen?” 

“Isn’t it just,” muttered Benedict.  He scanned all the rows and columns.  _Hmmm…flight info, Magical Express – whatever the fuck that is._ He looked up at her. 

“What’s a Magical Express?” 

“A free motor coach service provided by Disney that picks up their resort guests at the airport and drives them to their resorts.” 

Benedict nodded.  “I see.”  

_Hotel booking information…okay…that’s not weird to note.  So far, it makes sense…wait.  What in the fuck is all this other shit?   For fucks sake!  She’s got every motherfucking meal booking listed – times, confirmation numbers, seating preferences, dietary requests.  
_

“The first page is a summary of everything:  Hotel info, which days I’m visiting each park along with their hours – regular and for resort guests, daily itineraries – I like having one sheet at my fingertips.  The tabs are for keeping track of things like just park hours and my ADR’s.” 

“ADR’s?” 

“It means: Advance Dining Reservations.  If you look at the second tab, you’ll see that I’ve got all my dining information listed as well as in Column C of the first page.” 

“You’ve got all your bloody meals planned out for each day of your holiday!  I see bookings for breakfast, lunch and dinner!” 

Donna smiled indulgently at him as if he were clueless.  “The most popular restaurants fill their reservations at the opening of the six-month window.” 

“Six months?  You going to sit there and tell me that you know where in the hell you want to eat every one of your bloody meals six months in advance?” 

“Of course!  This is Disney you know.” 

_Jesus Christ! Perhaps I’m better off not knowing.  
_

“I might be able to understand if you wanted to book a special restaurant for dinner like at the Kona Cafe.” 

“That’s a breakfast reservation, Ben.  The Kona Cafe has Tonga Toast and banana macadamia nut pancakes that are to die for.  It's packed all the time, so a reservation is amust in my book unless you like wasting time by standing around waiting for a table to open up."

Benedict frowned at the spreadsheet.  "I'm hopelessly lost, I'm afraid.  I can't tell which meals are for dinner."

"You’re not looking at the code glossary along the bottom of the spreadsheet. You're looking at the breakfast reservations. All the breakfast reservations are indicated by the Red B.” 

“You really need a booking to have breakfast?” 

“If you want to eat with the characters you do! You wouldn’t believe the hard time I had trying to book Chef Mickeys for breakfast on my last trip.  It’s the most popular of all the character meals.” 

Benedict consulted the spreadsheet again.  “It says you had a booking for half seven!” 

“I know.  I originally wanted seven, but I was lucky to get that!  I checked every single morning for three months, sometimes several times a day …” 

_She checked every fucking day for three months???  This really is bollocks.  I’d be content with having a bowl of cold cereal and a coffee in the room most mornings. My fiancée is quite persistent, bless her._

“…and finally one morning I signed onto my computer extra early…” 

Benedict regarded her quizzically. “Exactly how early do you define extra early as being?” 

“Well, they open up the reservations online at six Eastern time.” 

“So you get up each day at six in the morning to make these blasted meal bookings?” 

“Hell no!  I’m up at five-thirty so I can get everything ready, sign into my account and be ready to pounce when six o’clock comes.  I set up the reservation I want and keep refreshing it until the system begins to work.” 

“I see.” 

_No, he doesn’t.  He thinks I’m nuts.  I can see the amused twinkle in his eyes_. 

“I seriously doubt we’ll have to be that rigourous about our meal planning when we go on honeymoon,” declared Benedict as he continued to scan the spreadsheet.  

_What in the fuck is all this shit? It’s a list of the rides she wants to go on?_

“I also have each day planned out as to what I want to accomplish.  That’s in the third tab marked Itineraries.” 

_Hmmm…yes, I see that.  Each day has a different theme park assigned to it…oh, wait that day has two parks…and this one has three.  
_

“What is rope drop?” 

“Rope drop is when the parks officially open.  It pays to get there extra early, go through bag check and the turnstiles to get on the most popular rides without much of a wait.” 

“Unless the park has…what are they called?  Oh yes, here it is:  Extra Magic Hours.” 

Donna nodded happily. “Yes, that’s it!  I told you it was easy to decipher my spreadsheet.” 

“For fucks sake!  The Magic Kingdom opened at six in the morning on this day!” 

“You wouldn’t believe how much we accomplished that morning!  We got to ride Peter Pan three times in a row without any wait!” 

_I really do believe it_. _I can actually visualize her running about the park like a loon.  
_

“Well done you, Darling.” 

“I love Extra Magic Hours!  You can get so much accomplished in those three hours before they open the park to the public!  Same with when the parks remain open three hours after official closing time.” 

_I’ve never seen such a punishing schedule in my life. And this is the woman I want to take holidays with for the rest of my life? I suspect a holiday in Disney with Donna would be akin to a death march.  I foresee nothing but domestics and cranky children in my future.  Children need their rest as well.  Something is going to have to radically change, should I ever agree to set foot inside there once we’ve established a family of our own.  Wait.  What fresh hell is this?_

“Donna, am I seeing things or did you list which rides and attractions you want to see each day as well?” 

“Yep. That’s on the itinerary tab or on the main sheet.” 

“And if it rains?” 

“I put on my yellow Mickey poncho and head out to the parks of course.” 

_And I’d stay behind in the room and have a nice, long lie in with the kids.  Then we’d get breakfast and head to the game room or to see a film.  I remember that vast game room they had in the Contemporary Hotel.  What was it called? Ah yes! It was called The Fiesta Fun Center.  I wouldn’t mind seeing that again._

Benedict burst out laughing.  “Well, it’s a bloody good thing they don’t let you book times to go on the rides or you’d have each day planned out to the minute.” 

“Wow!  What a great idea!  If only Disney would let you reserve a time to go on a ride that would save me so much time running around trying to collect Fast Passes.” 

“Fast what?” 

“Fast passes.  See the little turquoise blue ‘FP’ I have typed next to certain rides?” 

“Yeah. I thought it meant first priority or something akin to that.” 

“There are machines set up near the most popular rides in each park and you can put in your ticket to get a pass that allows you to skip the regular line and get on a priority line with little to no wait.  It gives you a time frame in which to return.” 

Benedict barked out a laugh.  “There is absolutely no spontaneity in a holiday like that!  When do you make time to go to the pool?  When do you sit and relax with a drink and read a book?  If I were with you, I would add a little yellow S for sex on the spreadsheet.” 

“The yellow S is for ‘snack’.” 

“You do realize that this is positively ludicrous?  I’ve never seen anything so anal in my life!”  

Donna glared at him.  “If we were honeymooning in Disney, you would be thanking me by the end of the second day.” 

“I highly doubt that, _Sweetheart_. These days start _very_ early and end _very_ late,” observed Benedict with a smirk. “I’d be dead by the end of the second day if I were to try and keep up such a pace!” 

“Well, lucky for you that we’re not honeymooning in Disney,” snapped Donna, setting her mug down with a bang. 

“You’re bloody well right on that account!  Thank God we agreed to not go there!” snarled Benedict, a little too loudly.  “You’re not – I repeat NOT going to run me ragged whilst we’re on honeymoon!  I won’t tolerate it!” 

Donna stared at him and barked out a laugh.  “You won’t _tolerate_ it?  Wow, I’m quaking in my boots here.” 

“That’s not the way I meant it to come out.” 

“OH, please!  Spare me the bullshit, Benedict! Of course you did!” 

“I beg to differ, _Sweetheart_!” 

“I would appreciate it if you could please lower your volume and not use the snotty version of sweetheart.” 

_Try not to get all shouty, Benedict –no matter how tempted you are to dress her down.  Be gentle and try not to keep taking the piss.  She’s very serious when it comes to planning.  
_

Benedict took a deep breath and let it out slowly before speaking again. 

“Erm…yeah.  Look, Darling, I seriously don’t think we’ll need to do quite this level of planning for when we go on honeymoon,” said Benedict in a reasonable tone.  

Donna studied his face as he crinkled his nose and smiled at her. 

_She’s fucking daft if she thinks she’s going to micro-manage our honeymoon. I can see that I’m going to have to rein her in._

_Okay.  He’s still secretly pissed off.  The smile is not reaching his eyes.  I’d better chill out and back off on the hyper planning.  He thinks I’m nuts to plan like I do.  I must force myself to cut back and learn to go with the flow a little more. It’s going to be a challenge, but I’ve got to do it in order to keep the peace between us.  
_

“I don’t desire to have a row over holiday planning…” 

“Neither do I!” 

“…We’ve got plenty of time for that.” 

_Smart ass.  He can be such a prick sometimes.  
_

“And now you even have something to add to our wedding spreadsheet – the church information and the reception venues we’re considering.” 

“You’re such a bastard sometimes, Benedict.  You’re making fun of it now, but you’ll come to appreciate our wedding spreadsheet as things get more complicated.” 

_Apologize, Benedict.  You’ll be happy when you lose your notes or forget to write something in your diary and she has it on her spreadsheet. And you know damn well that’s going to happen._

“Sorry…” 

“We’re also not going to have any disagreements over honeymoon planning.  I promise that I’ll do my best to curb my… anal planning tendencies.  I’ll even delete the wedding spreadsheet to prove my commitment to backing off and going more with the flow.” 

“I’m going to hold you to that promise.”  Benedict smiled and crinkled his nose at her. 

“Of that I have no doubt,” smiled Donna. _I’m going to miss my spreadsheet._ "So, what's next?"

“I vote for sorting out the reception venue next.” 

“That sounds reasonable.  I wish I weren’t starting to get stressed. I admire how relaxed and calm you’re being about all these things we have to accomplish.” 

_I’d better stop taking the piss about her spreadsheet.  She doesn't want to delete that spreadsheet.  It means a lot to Donna to be organized.  If it makes her happy and gives her a sense of control, who am I to be snarky about it.  The last thing I want is for her to be stressed.  Planning a wedding should be enjoyable.  We’ve both looked forward to this day for a long time.  I don’t want to spoil it for her over a fucking spreadsheet, do I?  What harm can it do?  Don't be a prick, Benedict.  Tell her she can keep the spreadsheet and she can be organized for us both._

“Well, someone has to keep calm.  Now, with that said, one of us has to keep track of things to make sure we pull it all together properly.  You’re the one out of the two of us who excels in organization skills.  I’m rubbish when it comes to keeping track of things as you bloody well know.  I’m sincerely sorry if I hurt your feelings about your spreadsheet.  Please don’t delete it.  I’ve come to realize that you need to have a certain amount of order in your life; and it’s not my place to poke fun at it.  I sorely wish that I were better organized. I’m very jealous that you keep track of everything so effortlessly. I also have just come to realize that you find it an essential planning tool in order to feel organized, and I need to accept that.  You tend to over plan, and I tend to under plan.  I'm sure we'll make great use of it as the months tick by."  He smiled and crinkled his nose at her once again.   ”

_Hmmm...two nose crinkles and cute smiles in less than five minutes.  He knows he overstepped his bounds.  Why should it concern him if I want to keep a spreadsheet.  It's not like I'm asking him to maintain it._

“Apology accepted, but my spreadsheets have to take the credit for my organization.” 

“And you’re a credit to them.” 

"I promise only to have a couple of tabs."

"Have as many tabs as you fancy."

“Thank you, Honey.  I do think we need to focus on one thing at a time.” 

“Agreed.” 

“Easy for me to say, but it’s proving difficult to do!” Donna laughed nervously. 

“Please don’t worry, Donna.  Everything will fall into place on your spreadsheet before you know it.” 

“I’ll try not to obsessively worry, but that’s easier said than done.” 

“To be honest, I’ll wind up worrying just as much in the end,” chuckled Benedict.  “We’re two of a kind in that regard, it only manifests itself differently.” 

“Hey, did you get the photos and video I took of your parents’ debut at The Gramercy Park British Society?” 

Benedict smiled widely and nodded.  “Yes, I did!  It appears they were a raging success.” 

“They sure were!  The Q and A session went well over the allotted time set aside.  Everyone loved their stories – and Tim is a fabulous storyteller.  The ladies were spellbound and surrounded him with photo and autograph requests.  They loved him in _The Scarlett Pimpernel_.” 

“I did notice how chipper Dad was given all the attention he was receiving from the ladies.  Dare I say that it was Mum’s turn to look a bit jealous or am I reading something into it that wasn’t so?” 

“You may dare say that because she was jealous!” giggled Donna.  “Wanda kept saying to me:  Hells bells, Donna, he’s only an actor!” 

“Mum is the one who’s always garnered all the attention.  After all, she was a sex symbol back in the day, which makes me cringe whenever I think about all those middle-aged men wanking off to her photos!”     

Donna wrinkled her nose in distaste at the thought. “Ewww! That’s gross.” 

“How in the hell do you think I feel?  I’m her son for fucks sake.” 

“I guess you don’t want to hear that all the men were gathered around her, hanging onto her every word and fawning over her.” 

“There’s no need.  You’ve just told me.” 

“I thought it was cute to see all those senior citizen males fanboying over Wanda.” 

“I suppose Mum was basking in all that attention yes?” 

Donna laughed.  “Oh yeah!  Wanda loved every minute of it.  Afterwards, she held court at her table during the meet and greet tea that was served in their honor.” 

“I was chuffed to see that Antonia illustrated that she could bake a proper-looking fruit scone.” 

“Of course she can, Benedict!” chided Donna.  “Mom was using my Grandma’s recipe, which was handed down to her from my Great-Grandmother, who was English.  It’s the same recipe that we use at Carldonn for our scone of the day.” 

“That would be Colin’s mum you’re referring to then.  I keep forgetting you’re part English.” 

Donna nodded.  “Yep, I am.” 

“So, tomorrow’s a special day for you.” 

Donna grinned from ear-to-ear.  “Yes! Shopping for my wedding gown with my bridal party!  I can’t wait!” 

“I know that you’ll look smashing in whatever you choose!”  He smiled and winked at her.  

“I hope so.  I’m still on the fence about whether I should go with having Vera Wang design something for me or go with something that’s off-the-rack.” 

“I think it boils down to what you really want, Darling.  Your parents made it clear that the funds have been set aside should you desire a bespoke dress.” 

Donna nodded.  “Knowing me, I’ll probably look around in the retail store first to get an idea before we go upstairs to her showroom.  If something catches my eye, I’ll try it on.  If not, then I’ll go the custom route.  What about you?” 

“I’m going to head over to Parliament Hill Farmers Market to restock my pantry and fridge. Adam’s going to meet me there, so we can do our shopping together and have a bit of a catch up. Then I was meeting Mark for a coffee before going to my yoga class.  After that, it’s my meeting with Beryl.  Once that’s over and done with, I’ve got tickets to see Kevin Spacey in a revival of _Inherit the Wind_ at the Old Vic with Andrew.”

"Wow, that's an ambitious itinerary you've got planned for tomorrow." 

Benedict stretched and stifled a yawn.  “It’s been a terribly long day!” 

“I saw you stifle that yawn,” teased Donna. 

“I was only stretching.”  

_She saw me trying not to yawn. All of a sudden I feel so knackered.  If I lie down, I’m sure to fall asleep immediately.  
_

_He suddenly looks very tired.  I can tell by the way he keeps blinking to keep his eyes from closing._

“It’s okay if you’re tired and want to skip the Skype chat later.  Why don’t you get in bed and do some reading.” 

“Because if I do, I’m sure to fall asleep; and it’s too early for that.  I’m going to do some laundry and then catch up on my reading.” 

“We can have a sexy Skype chat tomorrow night or Monday.” 

“No. I really would fancy doing that tonight.  I’ll stay signed into Skype and put on my black pants.” 

_His heart is in the right place, but his body will betray him. The minute Ben gets settled in bed and starts to read, I’ll give him ten minutes before he’s out like a light._

“Good luck with Beryl Vertue if we don’t speak later.” 

“Thanks, Sweetheart.  I have a feeling that I’ll need those good wishes.  Have a lovely day tomorrow, and we’ll talk Sunday should we miss each other.” 

Donna smiled at him.  “I love you, Benedict Cumberbatch.” 

“I love you, too, Donna Saint James.” 

“I was just thinking that next year at this time, I’ll no longer be Donna Saint James.” 

“That’s right.  You’ll be Donna Cumberbatch.  That has a pleasing ring to it, don’t you think?”

"Donna Cumberbatch.  I can definitely get used to that!"

"I can't wait to make it official, Darling.  One year from today - that's going to fly by!"

Donna smiled at Benedict, her heart swelling with love for him.  "You know what my favorite is?  The thought of being Mr. and Mrs. Benedict Cumberbatch."

Benedict returned his fiancee's smile.  "Agreed.  I fucking love the way that sounds.  Mr. and Mrs. Benedict Cumberbatch!"

"I sense a but here."

"There are some days when I feel so anxious, as if all this were too good to be true. I've waited so long to find such happiness, I sometimes fear something will go dreadfully wrong at the last minute. I'm being a complete knob about it, I know.  Does it sound silly to you?"

"No, but I think you worry for nothing, Ben Honey.  While it's true neither of us can control what happens in the future; we can do our best to just roll with whatever happens.  Our wedding day will be here before either of us knows it and all will smoothly."

"I know deep down inside that the time will pass quickly and hopefully fairly uneventfully - especially with _Sherlock_ filming and all. It's just that so much can happen in a year's time."

Donna giggled and blew a kiss to Benedict.  "As I said before, you're worrying for nothing.  What do you think could possibly happen to throw our lives into a complete tizzy?"

“I have no idea; but you’re right.  I can’t worry about the future. Good Night!” replied Benedict Cumberbatch as he blew Donna Saint James a kiss and rang off.   

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Kenwood House was actually refurbished in 2012-2013. In this universe it takes place in 2009-2010.
> 
> 2\. I'm poking fun at myself with the gift snooping. I used to be like that growing up and no longer do it. Much. LOL.
> 
> 3\. I've done some research into gift-giving in the US and UK; and there were so many variances that I decided to simply use my own personal experience.
> 
> 4\. Vicar Dilby is a tribute to one of my favorite Britcoms, "The Vicar of Dilby" that starred Dawn French. 
> 
> 5\. I did some of research on non-Anglicans marrying Anglicans, but it quickly boggled my feeble little mind. LOL. I basically cobbled together from several articles I had read and tailored it to fit this universe. However, when it comes to the rules of the Catholic Church marrying a non-Catholic; I know what those are from personal experience being I'm a Catholic who married a Jewish man. 
> 
> 6\. I'm poking fun at myself regarding Donna's templates. I have a vacation template similar to hers; but not quite so involved. However, when traveling to Disney, I'm totally anal when it comes to making our dining reservations. 
> 
> 7\. Disney World now offers guests the option to book actual times to go on their most popular rides. This option was not available in 2009. You could get a fast pass but it only gave you a ticket with a window to return so you could bypass the regular line with little to no wait. 
> 
> 8\. Here's hoping that all Americans who are eligible to vote get out there on Tuesday and exercise your right!
> 
> 9\. Has anyone seen Benedict hosting SNL? I thought he gave it his all and made the most of the material he was given. I was never a fan of the show; but wound up enjoying his bits immensely.


	147. Chapter 147

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 1 of Donna goes wedding gown shopping with her bridal party. Benedict takes afternoon tea with Beryl Vertue. 
> 
> Note: I’ll be using ******* for things happening at the same time.

  

Donna Saint James and her bridal party entered the Vera Wang Bridal Boutique on Madison Avenue promptly at ten o’clock Saturday morning.  The sparsely furnished, modern-looking reception area was done all in black and charcoal grey with white ceilings, indirect lighting, wooden floors and a couple of dark leather chairs.  There was one wedding gown on display in the corner near a polished wood and chrome staircase that led to the upper floors. 

“Wouldn’t that just take the cake if this were the only wedding frock on display?” laughed Wanda as she closely inspected the dress on the mannequin.   “All this fuss about appointments and viewings, yet nothing representative to look at.” 

“It _is_ very…minimalist-looking in here, isn’t it?” whispered Carly.  

“I’d say almost depressing,” ventured Emily.  “I expected to see racks of wedding gowns lining the walls.” 

“Where are all the gowns?” wondered Jennifer, looking up the stairwell that led to the second level.  “All the bridal shops at home have all the dresses displayed on racks along the walls.” 

“They probably keep them in the back and bring them out to you once they have an idea as to what you’re looking for,” said Tracy. “Not everything is bespoke.” 

“I agree with Tracy. It can’t be that everything is made-to-order,” insisted Scarlett. “They have everything hidden – just like at Bergdorf Goodman’s Bridal Salon.  There are only a few gowns out on the display floor.  The rest are stored in the back and brought out to you once they know your price range.” 

“The majority of these designer showrooms look like this in order not to detract from the collections,” declared Giada DeLaurentiis, glancing around.  “It’ll look different once we get past the receptionist.” 

“I hope there’s coffee and some biscuits to snack on,” sighed Wanda.  “I’m feeling peckish.  I only had a small bowl of porridge this morning.” 

_Jesus Christ! Wanda’s always feeling peckish,_ thought Toni with amusement.  _I suppose the three slices of slab bacon and four blueberry pancakes slathered with butter and maple syrup don’t count. That woman can eat me under the table and then some!  And to think she was once a sex symbol._

“Some designers prefer to leave only a few items on display in the reception area to whet the appetite for what’s to come.  I’ve been in a few that have absolutely nothing scattered about.  Everything is held back like a big secret,” agreed Sarah Jessica Parker.  “It looks as if this is the modus operandi here.” 

Donna walked over to the white taffeta ball gown that was on display.  _Hmmm…this one doesn’t whet my appetite.  I don’t like all that draping. It reminds me of those shades they used to have in catering halls.  Ugh._

Donna looked at her grandmother, who had come to stand beside her and smiled.  "Not very pretty is it, Nona.  It reminds me of those draped shades they have in the Knights of Columbus Hall in Astoria."

"It looks like coffin lining,"whispered Serafina.

"Nona!" Donna barked out a laugh.  "That's a terrible thing to say!  That gown must be worth thousands of dollars!"

"I don't care if it costs a million dollars, it's still ugly as sin."

“I’ll let them know we’re here,” said Toni, marching over to the reception desk to address the occupant with raven-black hair.  The girl, dressed in head-to-toe black, smiled graciously at Toni. 

“Good morning. Are you here for an appointment?” 

Toni nodded.  “Yes, I’m Antonia Saint James; and my daughter has an appointment with Vera about a custom wedding gown design.” 

“The _possibility_ of a custom design,” corrected Donna, who had come to stand next to Toni.  

_Did I not say that I wanted to look at the sample gowns and any off the rack ones first?  
_

The girl frowned at Donna.  “I’m not sure I’m following you.  Are you the bride?” 

“Yes. That’s me! I specifically told my mother that I wanted to see the sample gowns first or if there are any ready-to-wear ones available for purchase.” 

The girl continued frowning as she consulted her computer screen and then addressed Toni.  “I thought you said this was for a custom wedding gown.  I’ve got the time blocked out especially for your daughter to have a consultation with Vera.” 

“It is for a custom gown,” confirmed Toni. 

The girl stared at Donna.  “I’m still confused.  Why would you want to see gowns from our ready-to-wear collection if you have an appointment to have Vera design a custom gown for you?” 

“I thought if I find something I like in ready-to-wear, we can forego the consultation and the custom design.”  _And save my parents a bundle of money._

The girl sighed and looked at Toni with a forced smile.  Her lips were tightly compressed into a thin line. Toni nudged Donna’s foot with her own as an indication to shut up. 

_Oh, oh.  I guess I shouldn’t have said that. Mom’s pissed.  That girl must be wishing I'd just disappear and go over to Kleinfeld's.  
_

_I wish my daughter would stop fighting me every step of the way!  This appointment has already been paid for.  Why can’t she let me do this for her?  
_

The girl consulted her computer screen.  “Your name please,” she said to Donna. 

“Donna Saint James.” 

The girl nodded and typed something into the computer. “I have a note that you’ve brought along a sizeable bridal party as well.” 

“That we did,” confirmed Donna.  “There are twelve of us altogether.” 

“That’s a large bridal party,” remarked the girl with a hint of disapproval in her voice. 

“Oh, no!  There are only six bridesmaids.  The rest are my future in-laws, my mom and grandmother,” laughed Donna. 

“I’ll let Vera know you have arrived and that you’d like to browse the samples and ready-to-wear gowns first.  In the meantime, I’ll have Aubrey bring you upstairs to our showroom and get you and your bridal party settled into one of our dressing room suites.” 

“Thank you,” said Donna. 

“Did you have to make a stink about trying on the samples first?” demanded Toni, pulling Donna off to the side. 

“I thought they had the right to know that I don’t want to waste Vera Wang’s time.  I thought I made it clear that I’d prefer to buy something from ready-to-wear or just order one of the sample gowns made up in my size. There’s no need for her to come down and watch me try on gowns.” 

Toni rolled her eyes.  “Vera Wang will be down to meet with you regardless, Muffin.  I’ve already paid for the personal consultation.” 

“I wish you hadn’t, Mom.  It seems like a waste of money…” 

“And if you don’t find something to your liking, then Vera will be right there to do the design with you. How about you try and make the best of it, Muffin?  There are dozens of brides who would murder to be in yours shoes right now.” 

Two more bridal parties had arrived in the interim and were waiting patiently to check in for their appointments.  One of the women was complaining about the fifteen hundred dollar fee they charged just to get their daughter an appointment.  

“Aubrey will be along to take us up to a room soon,” Donna informed everyone.  “She must be our personal shopping consultant.” 

“It looks as if Sarah has been recognized,” whispered Wanda behind her hand.  

“Giada’s been recognized, too,” added Donna’s friend, Michelle Razala.  “One of the girls looks as if she’s trying to decide whether or not to approach her.” 

“It happens sometimes when I’m out with them,” confirmed Donna.  “Most of the time, people just stare for a minute then go about their business.” 

_I wonder if Benedict’s finished having his tea with Beryl Vertue yet.  I hate that the only way I can contact him now is via Skype or email.  I miss him so much.  I really wish he were here.  We always have such a good time when we go shopping together.  
_

“Why do you suddenly look so glum, Love?” Wanda asked Donna.  “You were all smiles until just now.” 

“I was thinking about Benedict,” replied Donna in a low voice. 

“Oh, he’s just fine,” said Wanda in a hushed tone.  “Tim and I spoke with him briefly this morning on Skype.  He’s missing you terribly of course.” 

“And I miss him! Did he seem nervous to you at all?” 

“No, I wouldn’t say nervous,” laughed Wanda.  “He had just gotten back from that hot yoga class he insists on going to…what is it called?” 

“Bikram,” replied Donna.  “I don’t know how he tolerates all that heat.  I went with him once, and it was like trying to do yoga in a sauna - never again!” 

“I know what you mean.  Ben looked as if he were going to faint, yet he professes to enjoying it.” 

“Benedict told me that yoga, swimming and walking are the only forms of exercise he can do while filming _Sherlock_ because they want him to keep lean and not get too muscular,” explained Donna. “I miss our walks on Hampstead Heath or along the Thames.” 

Wanda smiled.  “Ben’s always been on the lean side except for his bum.” 

“He says the same thing,” giggled Donna. "It's one of his most attractive assets."

“So, what are we talking about?” asked Sarah, coming to stand alongside Donna and Wanda.  "Something naughty from the way Donna's blushing!"

“Benedict’s bottom,” replied Donna. 

Sarah laughed.  “And a nice bottom it is. Shall I leave you two alone to continue this discussion?” 

“Not at all,” replied Wanda.  “I was just asking Donna why she wasn’t as happy as when we first came in, and she said it had to do with Ben.” 

“It’s okay to miss your man, Donna,” said Sarah.  “I’m sure some shopping for the most important dress you'll ever buy will cheer you up in no time.” 

“I sure as hell hope so.  I can’t stop thinking about how his day is going.” 

“Why?  Is he at an important audition?” asked Sarah. 

“I wish. Benedict was having tea with his _Sherlock_ executive producer this afternoon, and I was wondering if it was over yet.” 

Wanda frowned.  “Beryl Vertue invited Ben around to tea?  What for?” 

“He’s not entirely sure.  At first I thought it was just a friendly get together, but now I’m getting worried.” 

“Oh, I’m sure it’s nothing to be worried about, Love,” said Wanda.   _My future daughter-in-law looks very worried._

“I take it they’re not chums?” inquired Sarah. 

“Not really,” said Donna.  “It’s strictly a working relationship.” 

“She’s old enough to be his gran. Beryl and I are friendly acquaintances,” clarified Wanda. 

“Sarah!” called Giada.  “Do you have a minute to take a couple of photos?” 

Donna, Wanda and Sarah looked over to see that Giada was surrounded by some of the newly arrived bridal parties who were also waiting to be taken up to their appointments. 

“Be right there!” Sarah replied with a grin.  “It’s part of the job,” she said to Donna and Wanda.  “Surely Wanda understands that.” 

“That I do, though I’m not approached nearly as often as you are, I’m sure.” 

“I heard you were the toast of the Gramercy Park British Society,” smiled Sarah with a wink.  “From what Donna told me, you and Timothy were surrounded by quite a crowd of fans.” 

Wanda blushed.  “Yes, we were.  It was a splendid afternoon.  We had a brilliant time meeting and spending time with all those lovely people!” 

“I won’t be long,” said Sarah as she headed over to the small group of women. 

Once they were alone again, Wanda leaned close to Donna.  “Ben didn’t mention anything about the meeting to Tim or me this morning.  Do you think he has reason to be worried?” 

Donna looked about to make sure she couldn’t be overheard.  “Well, Benedict has reason to believe that he’s going to be questioned about whether he violated his _Sherlock_ NDA and told people that Andrew Scott was playing Moriarty and Mark Gatiss was playing Mycroft.”

_Hells bells!_   Thought Wanda in a sudden panic.  _This is all my doing!  I’m the one who congratulated Beryl on choosing Andrew to play Moriarty when Tim and I bumped into her at Paddington Station.  
_

_Why has all the color suddenly drained from Wanda’s face?  She looks awful.  
_

“Are you alright, Wanda?” inquired Donna with concern.  “You look so pale.” 

“Do you feel alright, Mum?” chimed in Tracy, joining them and putting her arm around her mother's shoulder.  “Maybe you should sit down.” 

“What’s wrong?” asked Toni.  “Are you feeling ill, Wanda?” 

“No.  Not really. Perhaps a glass of water would be nice.  It’s so very hot in here all of a sudden,” replied Wanda, fanning herself with a folded up subway map that she removed from her handbag.  

_Fuck me!  My poor Benedict!  I am to blame for this cock up!!_ _Tim will be outraged when he finds out there might be repercussions. I will never, ever hear the end of it.  Tim was right there when Beryl asked me how I knew Andrew Scott was going to be playing Moriarty, and I replied that it was Benedict who told us._

“It’s not hot in here, Mum,” said Tracy worriedly.  “I was thinking that it was rather on the cool side in fact.  It must be your hormones playing with your internal thermostat."

"More like a lack of hormones in my case," sighed Wanda.  _No, it's called fear coupled with guilt and anxiety._

"Why don’t you take off that coat, Mum?”  Tracy helped Wanda out of her wool coat and over to one of the two chairs in the reception area. 

“Let me see if I can find out whatever happened to this Aubrey,” said Toni, heading off to the reception desk.  “I need a glass of water, please.” Donna heard her mother ask in her ‘take charge’ tone of voice.  “A member of our party is feeling a bit warm.  Can you turn down the heat as well please?” 

Wanda sat back in the chair and hastily reviewed the conversation she and Timothy had had with Beryl Vertue at Paddington Station prior to leaving for the US. 

_Damn!  Why did I feel the need to open my big mouth and mention it?  Benedict never told us not to say anything.  I suppose he never dreamt that we’d come across Beryl Vertue in Paddington Station and get to chatting.  Damn that paper for writing that article in the first place! How were we to know that Moriarty’s casting was a secret?_

_Why am I getting the succinct impression that Wanda has something to do with the Moriarty business?_ Thought Donna. _She looks like she wants to bolt._

A handsome young man, dressed in a black tuxedo and carrying a silver tray with a glass of ice water approached Wanda.  “I have some cool water for you, Madame,” he said with a slight bow. 

“Thank you ever so much,” said Wanda, taking the glass and sipping the water.  “Oh, that’s so much better!”  

_My future daughter-in-law looks as if she's about to ask me more about Benedict and Beryl, bless her insatiable curiosity. It’s akin to having Benedict here.  If she goes into Barrister Betty mode, I’m fucked.  
_

“Umm…Wanda…” 

“Donna!  They’re ready for us!” called Toni from the reception desk. “Finally!” 

_I’m safe for now_ , thought Wanda Ventham.  _But sooner or later my luck is going to run out._

 

*****************************************************

  

Benedict Cumberbatch was sat on one of the two loveseats in the lounge of Beryl Vertue’s cozy flat in Belgravia.  The floral tapestry upholstered loveseats faced each other in front of the fireplace, and Benedict chose the one affording him a view of the room that looked towards the rest of the flat.  It had been cold and raining heavily all day, and he appreciated the roaring fire.  

“There.  I’ve opened and set your brolly out in the foyer; so it should be dry by the time you leave,” said Beryl, coming back into the room.  “And before you say a word – I’m not in the least bit superstitious when it comes to opening brollys indoors.” 

“Nor am I,” laughed Benedict. 

“It’s been a bear of a day yes?” 

Benedict nodded in agreement as he rubbed his hands together in an effort to chase away the chill.  _I should have worn gloves._ “You’ll get no argument from me.  The wind is such that I almost lost my brolly twice on the way from the tube station to here.”  _I don’t know why I didn’t just take a fucking cab given the shitty weather._

The sound of a whistling tea kettle came from what must have been the kitchen. 

“If you’ll excuse me for a moment, Ben, it sounds as if the kettle’s just boiled.” 

“Of course,” said Benedict as Beryl scurried from the room through the swinging door into her tiny kitchen.  He could see the walls were covered in tan wallpaper with stemmed cherries and the appliances were stainless steel. 

“I hope Darjeeling is alright,” she called out to Benedict. 

“It’s fine.  Thank you.” 

Benedict turned his attention to the lounge whilst Beryl was steeping the tea.  It appeared the same as it was the afternoon he had come to audition for the part of Sherlock Holmes. He smiled at the family photographs scattered about room of Beryl, her daughters Sue and Debbie and their respective families.  He got up to peruse the awards that lined the fireplace mantel; especially the BAFTA Beryl had won for Outstanding Creative Contribution to Television. 

_Ah, wouldn’t it be lovely to have one of these to display on my mantel one day?  
_

After settling himself back on the loveseat, Benedict saw that the tea table in front of him had been laid for their tea.  There was a two-tiered platter that held an assortment of jam and custard tarts, chocolate-covered digestives and thick shortbread rounds studded with crystallized ginger.  He also noted that there were five cups and saucers on the tray in a white and dark blue pattern with a matching pitcher of milk and sugar bowl.  Benedict leaned forward and counted out five blue and white cloth serviettes folded in half.  

_Hmmm…why didn’t I notice this before? This table is laid for five people.  Beryl never told me that there were going to be more than just the two of us here today.   I wonder if any of the other cast members have been invited to the interrogation – perhaps Martin, Rupert and Loo? Could Una be one of the guests?  I suppose I’ll find out soon enough.  
_

Benedict pulled out his mobile and saw that he had a text from Adam:

 

Alice says you should come around for dinner if you’re free tonight.  A 

How lovely of her to invite me.  It just goes to show that she thinks more of me than you do.  You didn’t give any thought to whether I was going to have to eat alone tonight or not, but your darling wife did.  B 

Sod off, wanker.  A 

Alice also sends nicer texts than you do.  B 

Hey!  I was the one who mentioned that Donna was still stuck in New York, which then prompted Alice to issue the invite.  So, you should be thanking me.  A 

I thank you both then.  What time am I to be expected?  B 

Half seven.  When do you think Donna will be able to return to London?  A 

I haven’t a motherfucking clue. Hopefully, the visa business will get sorted sooner rather than later.  I have to go.  I’m having tea with Beryl Vertue.  B 

How lovely of her to invite you around for a cuppa.  A 

No.  It’s not.  I may have cocked things up by violating my _Sherlock_ NDA.   B 

:-O    Shame on you.  What exactly did you do?  A 

I told a few people about Andrew Scott being cast as Moriarty and Mark Gatiss playing Mycroft.  B 

That’s a bit not good.  A 

No.  It’s not.  B 

I was one of the ones you told, but I never even told Alice.  You have my word on that.  A 

Thanks!  I appreciate that.  B 

Unlike others, I value the sanctity of the NDA.  A 

Fuck off!  I know – you’re perfect.  B 

No.  I never said that.  A 

But I’m damn close.  A 

I’ll refrain from making a comment.  B 

How refreshing is that?  I wish your publicist could hear you say those words.  She’d be right chuffed with you.  A 

Karon would be livid if she found out about the NDA.   She’d dress me down and tell me that I have a big mouth and can’t keep a secret. B 

Which is all true.  A 

That’s not true!  And stop snickering!  B

How did you know I was silently snickering?  A

I could hear you inside my head.  B

I never told my parents about my relationship with Donna until I was absolutely sure things were going to work out.  I also managed to keep my proposal plans from Donna – did I not?  B 

You’re right.  You did manage to keep that all close to your vest.  Well done you.  A 

Who else did you tell?  A 

Donna.   B 

It would be normal to tell her.  After all, you two were in a serious relationship at the time.  A 

And my parents.  B 

I can see where that may pose a problem.  A 

Yes.  I’m afraid Mum may have told some of her friends.  B 

I’m not the only one whose been invited to take tea.  The tea tray is set for four guests.  I’m thinking other members of the cast may be coming.  B 

That makes sense to address the issue with the lot of you at the same time.  A

Misery also loves company.  A

Fuck off!  A warning would be preferable than an accusation.  B 

True.  A 

She told me I could bring Dennis along.  B 

That’s not good at all.  That tells me an accusation is forthcoming.  A 

I hope you’re wrong.  B 

I guess you’ll find out soon enough.  Good luck.  A 

Laters.  B 

 

Benedict put his mobile back inside his jeans pocket and sat back.  _  
_

_I wonder how the bridal gown shopping is going in New York.  Donna was so looking forward to it.  What a pity I won’t be able to see her dress until the moment she joins me at the altar.  I wonder if I might incorporate the American tradition of the groom facing the bride when she enters the church. I’d really fancy watching Donna make her entrance and walk down the aisle towards me, so I can drink her in. I’ll ask her about it when we next speak. I doubt the vicar will give a toss as to which way I face.  
_

The sound of the doorbell momentarily startled Benedict out of his reverie. 

“Ben, would you be a love and get the door?  I’ve got my hands full in here!” Beryl called out from the kitchen. 

_And now I’ll find out who the other guests are!_

“Of course!” replied Benedict, quickly getting to his feet and going to the intercom.   He pressed the button and spoke into the speaker.  “Hello?” 

“Ben?” Steven Moffat’s voice emitted from the intercom speaker.  “Is that you?” 

“Yeah,” replied Benedict, pressing the button to unlock the downstairs door. 

_Fuck me!  Beryl’s invited her son-in-law to join us.  I’m willing to wager his wife is also with him...and possibly Mark.   All the producers gathered together for my interrogation. It also means that they must somehow know that I opened my mouth.  That would make sense._

“Thank you,” said Beryl, as she came out of the kitchen with a large china teapot that matched the rest of the set on the tea table.  “How nice that everyone’s so punctual given the weather.” 

_I notice that she hasn’t asked who it was at the door, nor is she going to let them in.  She knows its Steven and most likely Sue.  They would have a key.   I smell a set up.  This can’t be good.  
_

There was the sound of a key in the lock and the door to the flat opened.  

“Feel free to let your brollys dry out in the foyer,” called out Beryl. “And you can hang your macs on the coat tree.” 

“I didn’t realize we were expecting company,” Benedict ventured, twisting in his seat to see who had come in with Steven Moffat.  

_Damn.  My view is blocked by the wall._

Beryl didn’t say a word as she placed the pot on the tea tray. 

_That’s what I get for not facing the foyer.  I could have seen who came in.  Damn!_

“Well, Benedict!  I never expected that you would be the first one here,” came Mark Gatiss’ voice from behind him. 

Benedict turned around to see Mark Gatiss, Sue Vertue and Steven Moffat all smiling at him.  He felt his stomach bottom out at the same time as his instinct told him he was definitely in trouble. 

_Fuck me.  This is not good.  Andrew just had a one-on-one with Beryl.  I’ve got the whole fucking hierarchy here to quiz me. There’s one thing I’m absolutely sure of – Donna’s having a whole hell of a lot more fun than I am today!_

 

*****************************************************

  

“Do you think you can breathe in just a little bit more?” Carly Cipriano asked Donna.  “I’m having trouble zipping this one up.” 

“If I breathe in any more, I’m going to pass out!” snapped Donna as she slipped her feet into the white satin high heels. “What size did Giada ask Aubrey for?” 

“The tag says this is a six,” replied Scarlett. 

“Crap!  There’s no way I’m a six – except in shoes!” 

“Just be quiet and hold your breath. We _can_ do this. I need just a little more wiggle room,” said Carly.  

“I can’t wiggle!  That’s the problem!  I feel like I’m wearing that damn corset I surprised Benedict with on his birthday.” 

“If I recall, the surprise was on him when you fainted,” snickered Carly. 

“It wasn’t funny, Carla!” 

“I thought it was.  Didn’t you, Scarlett?” 

Scarlett covered her mouth and giggled in response. 

Donna rolled her eyes and shook her head in disgust.  “Oh, that’s just great!  You’re not supposed to be on her side!” 

“Sorry, Donna; but it _was_ funny,” chortled Scarlett.  “I especially liked the part when you fell off the bed and got tangled in the bedclothes.  That could only happen to you!  Then on top of everything, you got your period.” 

“Remind me not to confide in either of you ever again,” snapped Donna _.  
_

_I have such a big mouth sometimes.  Benedict wouldn’t find that funny; but I often wonder just how much he tells Adam, even though he proclaims to keep what happens in the bedroom private._

“You don’t hear me going around making fun of you because my brother accidentally locked you out of the apartment, when you were clad in that she-devil costume with the handcuffs,” sniffed Donna with a toss of her hair.  

“Hahaha!” guffawed Carly.  “And you had to go downstairs to ask Mom and Dad for the extra key because Kenny was in the bathroom getting into his he-devil costume and didn’t hear you knocking to be let back inside.” 

Donna fixed her sister-in-law with a look.  “What were you doing out in the hallway anyway in that getup?” 

"I've always wondered myself," agreed Carly.  "It wasn't Halloween."

“I think I’m going back outside to see if there’s any coffee left,” said Scarlett quickly as she exited the dressing room. 

“I don’t think we’re ever going to find out either,” giggled Donna.  

Carly glared at Donna through the mirror. 

“Stop going down memory lane and breathe deeply, damn you!” 

“Argghhh!”  Donna drew in a deep breath.  _This is crazy!  She’ll never get this zipper up in a million years._

Carly bit her lower lip as she concentrated on moving the zipper up another inch.  “I’ve almost got it.  Just hold it a little more.  Maybe try sucking in your stomach as well.” 

“I really don’t think I can, Carly.” 

“Bullshit!  If you would just stop talking and hold your breath, I can zip this fucker up in no time at all.” 

“This isn’t worth it!” 

“I thought you wanted to try this one on to see how you look in a mermaid style.” 

“I don’t want to know that badly!  You’re depriving my brain of oxygen!” 

“That might not be such a bad thing – now PLEASE SHUT THE HELL UP!” 

 

*******************************************************

  

“I wonder what’s taking Donna so long to come out with the next one,” wondered Sarah Jessica Parker aloud.  

“It does seem like she’s been in there for an age,” agreed Emily. 

“Maybe it doesn’t look right,” said Tracy.  “I know I wouldn’t want to come out in front of everyone if the dress I was trying on made me look like a dolt.” 

Michelle Razala laughed.  “It took me three weeks of shopping to find the right wedding gown.” 

“Three weeks?” exclaimed Wanda.  “Hells bells!  You certainly have a lot of patience.” 

Michelle nodded.  “I had a ball doing it, too.” 

“I apologize for the detour, Vera,” said Toni.  “I didn’t realize my daughter was going to try on so many gowns that it cut into her appointment.” 

Vera Wang glanced towards the dressing room and smiled serenely at Toni.  “This is nothing!  We’ve had brides come in and spend an entire day trying on every sample gown in the store.” 

“Donna said she was only going to try on a few gowns to try and get a feel for which styles looked best on her.” 

Vera nodded and smiled again at Toni.  “It’s actually a good idea for Donna to want to rule out certain styles before we get started with the actual consultation.” 

“That’s if Donna gets that far,” snorted Jennifer.  “I heard her say that if she can buy it off-the-rack and save money, then that’s…” 

“Thank you, Jenn,” hissed Tracy, clearly embarrassed.  “No one was going to mention that to Ms. Wang.” 

Jennifer flushed several shades of red and covered her mouth.  “Ooopps!  My bad!  Sorry, Mum.” 

“And that’s fine, too,” smiled Vera.  “Whatever makes the bride happy is the important thing.” 

_It doesn’t matter to Vera how long Donna takes.  She’s getting paid to sit here and chat with me,_ thought a disgusted Toni. 

“All that smiling is creeping me out,” Emily whispered to the group.  “I would be incensed if I were Vera Wang and was having my time wasted like this.” 

Sarah leaned forward to whisper her response to Emily.  “Believe me, Emily, Vera Wang is not pissed off in the slightest.  She’s getting paid a handsome consulting fee just to sit there next to Toni, sip tea and evaluate each gown when Donna decides to come out and grace us with her presence.”  

“Oh, I didn’t realize she was actually working.” 

“By seeing Donna in the gowns, it gives her an idea as to which style will look best on her when they sit down to design the actual gown,” added Giada. 

Emily nodded thoughtfully.  “That’s a right good job yes?” 

“Certainly an interesting one,” said Michelle.  “I bet Vera could tell us some very interesting stories about what goes on at these appointments.” 

Suddenly, the raised voices of Donna and Carly could be heard coming from the dressing room:

 

“Bullshit!  If you would just stop talking and hold your breath, I can zip this fucker up in no time at all.” 

“This isn’t worth it!” 

“I thought you wanted to try this one on to see how you look in a mermaid style.” 

“I don’t want to know that badly!  You’re depriving my brain of oxygen!” 

“That might not be such a bad thing – now PLEASE SHUT THE HELL UP!”

 

Donna’s bridal party all exchanged nervous glances as their eyes all settled on Vera Wang, who smiled calmly at them. 

“I’ve heard much worse,” she confirmed. 

“I bet you have!” chuckled Wanda, sipping some champagne.  

“Jesus Christ!  It sounds like my daughters need a referee!” exclaimed a clearly mortified Toni. “They usually get along so well.  I’ll be right back.” 

Giada jumped up off the couch.  “Please stay where you are, Toni, and enjoy your coffee.  I’ll go see what’s going on.” 

_Fuck the coffee.  I think I need something stronger.  I’ve never been so embarrassed – to think my daughters can’t act like the ladies they were brought up to be!  Argh!_

Toni Saint James beckoned to the handsome tuxedo-ed waiter who stood beside a long chrome and glass table that was laden with a silver champagne bucket, a silver coffee and tea service and bone china platters containing mini bagels, muffins and Danish pastries. 

“I think I’ll have a glass of champagne, please.  There’s no need to pour it into a flute.  I’ll take it in one of those tall water glasses.” 

 

******************************************************

  

Giada DeLaurentiis timidly poked her head into the large dressing room that had been set aside exclusively for Donna’s use.  “Everyone can hear you two bickering outside, including Vera Wang.  It’s a good thing she gave us this VIP suite where no one else is within earshot.” 

_I can’t hold it.  I don’t care._ _I’d rather get married in a friggin’ potato sack than have to be uncomfortable!_   

Donna let out the breath she had been holding and the zipper slid back down.  “Ah!  That’s soooooo much better!”  

“Now I have to start all over again!” cried Carly in disgust. 

“I hereby absolve you from that task,” snapped Donna with an impatient wave of her hand.  “You can go outside with the others and stuff your face with the free snacks while I try and figure out what I want.” 

_I really wish I had the chutzpah to get married in jeans like Wanda did.  I’d be so comfortable, but Benedict would put the hex on that idea.  He’s dying to go shopping for his morning suit, and I’m so glad he wants me to accompany him._

Carly tossed back her mane of blonde curls defiantly over her shoulders. “So that’s the thanks I get!” 

“I don’t recall thanking you,” retorted Donna, hands on hips. 

“I didn’t ask you to!” 

“ _Ladies!_ _Please!”_ Giada exclaimed, clapping her hands together in an effort to silence the bickering sisters _._ “I think the last thing Vera Wang wants or needs is for me to be acting as a referee between two of her customers.  We need to demonstrate that we can get along here,” she said gently as she moved into the dressing room. “You’d both be surprised at how well your voices travel.” 

Carly sighed.  “It’s a good thing they put us up here all by ourselves.” 

“That’s because it’s on the same floor as Vera Wang’s office and workroom,” said Giada. “And I wouldn’t be surprised if your mom requested it.” 

“They only gave us the VIP suite as soon as they saw that I had two celebrities in tow,” giggled Donna.  “I overheard them discussing what to do with us at the reception desk. We were originally supposed to be in the area next to that bridal party from Connecticut.” 

“It also helped that they noticed the bridal party from Connecticut milling about you and Sarah.  Did they finally approach either of you?” asked Carly. “I was trying to scope out the bridesmaids dresses while we were waiting.” 

“Yes, and it was fine with us.  They were very sweet actually and only wanted to take a couple of selfies and get our autographs.  We like to make our fans happy - happy fans equal good, positive PR.” 

“Crap!  You sounded just like Benedict’s publicist, Karon!  That’s exactly the type of thing she would say!” exclaimed Donna.  

Giada smiled nodded.  “And she would be right.  It only takes a minute and a kind word to make someone’s day.” 

“Donna would make a bitchy celebrity,” laughed Carly.  “She’d be shooing everyone away from her.” 

“Having people constantly coming up to me like that would make me nuts!” agreed Donna.  “You two are saints, and Carly’s right. I don’t think I could be that gracious when it comes to having my personal time and space intruded upon.” 

“Says the woman who ambushed Jude Law in the bathroom of the Tate Modern’s restaurant so she could get a selfie and an autograph,” snorted Carly.  

Giada fixed Donna with a look of disbelief.  “You what?” 

“She’s exaggerating, Giada!  I had to use the bathroom, and he just happened to come out of the men’s room at the same time.  It was a coincidence.” 

Giada narrowed her eyes as she studied her friend. “I saw that photo on your Facebook back in late February.  I didn’t realize at the time that you hadn’t just bumped into him like the caption on the photo described.” 

“You actually believed that was a mere coincidence?” Carly burst out laughing. “That’s not what she told me, Giada!  Donna told me that Benedict shamed her when she mentioned getting up during dinner to ask; so she did some covert surveillance…” 

“… and just happened to get the urge to pee at the same time Jude Law did,” finished Giada.  “I’ve been a victim of the bathroom ambush, too - Inside as well as outside of it.  The worst time was when I was actually in the stall and someone pushed a copy of one of my cookbooks underneath the door – complete with a sharpie for me to sign while I was doing my business!” 

Donna didn’t say a word as she pretended to study the lace and beading work on the gown she was wearing.  “Hmm…I like the pearls, but not this lace.” 

“What did Benedict say when he saw the photo on his Facebook feed?” asked Giada. 

“Nothing yet,” Donna replied with a bashful smile.  “Lucky for me that Benedict doesn’t have the time to follow social media.  He thinks it’s dumb.” 

“Well, he couldn’t think it’s too dumb or he wouldn’t have a Facebook page to begin with,” pointed out Giada. 

“Benedict told me that the only reason he made one was due to peer pressure,” said Donna.  “All his friends and family members have one, so he created one to appease them and left it there.  I can’t tell you the last time he went onto it…” 

“I can,” volunteered Carly.  “It was…” 

“…it must have been right after we met in February because that’s when we exchanged friend requests.” 

“…the day after you got engaged, Sister.  Benedict posted all the photos he took in the restaurant, including the tipsy ones where you’re sitting on his lap in the bar.” 

“Benedict accepted my friend request within the week, so he must be looking at it once in a while,” retorted Giada. 

“Maybe you should check his page from time-to-time, Donna.  Ben’s got over two hundred friends,” pointed out Carly. “And he also goes through the trouble to post photos, so I'd hardly call that neglecting it.” 

“Like your engagement party photos from last Friday night,” added Giada with a grin. “He posted them on his Facebook the following morning.” 

“I’ve never seen him post on anyone else’s or make any comments on his status.” 

“Umm…he changed his relationship status to engaged,” declared Giada.

"Hahaha!  You don't have a clue what he does on Facebook!" laughed Carly.  "We know more than you do!"

_I need to look at both our pages more often.  He keeps protesting that he has no time whenever I tell him he needs to go on it.  It looks like my honey is finding a way to make the time._

“Benedict told me that only looks at it when he gets email notifications that interest him,” clarified Donna. “Trust me. My honey doesn’t pay that much attention to it other than that.” 

Giada began to laugh.  “Then who’s posting all those photos in such a timely manner and liking things for him?  His PA?” 

“PA?  Hahaha! Benedict doesn’t have or need a PA,” snorted Donna. 

“I thought his niece, Emily, was his PA,” said Giada.  “She certainly sounds like she is.  Emily has been telling Wanda all about Benedict’s upcoming work commitments.” 

“Emily works for Carly and me as our buyer and office manager.  She just keeps track of his calendar for him as a favor,” explained Donna.  “I was doing it for him, but it got to be too much.” 

“Emily took on the task primarily because she said she was bored at work sometimes,” added Carly.  “Though I foresee things radically changing once the filming for _Dr. Who_ begins.” 

“I nearly forgot about your catering venture,” said Giada.  “That will entail quite a bit of time – remember, I did it for a while on a small scale.  If you ever need any more advice, feel free to call me at any time.” 

“You and Jamie Oliver have been a wealth of knowledge,” smiled Donna.  “We appreciate your both letting us pick your brains.” 

“Well, I hope your luck on Facebook continues to hold out, Donna,” scoffed Carly.  “I doubt Ben would be very happy if he saw that photo of you and Jude Law.  I’d take it down if I were you.” 

_Damn her!  I thought we had gotten off that topic.  Leave it to Curly Carly to lead me right back to it._

“Why did you do that in the first place?” asked Giada, clearly perplexed.  “Whenever we’re together and someone has approached me for an autograph or photo, you’re the first one to lament about how awful that must be for me.  What about poor Jude Law who was trying to enjoy his night out?  Didn’t his feelings count?” 

“I _really_ love Jude Law.  He wasn’t put out at all when I asked him.  He came across as very happy to…accommodate me and thanked me when I complimented his work,” said Donna defensively. 

“I would have told her ‘no’,” declared Carly.  

“And you said I’d be a bitchy celebrity?” snorted Donna. 

“I mean if I were Jude Law, I would have told you to fuck off,” clarified Carly.  “Giada and Sarah never say no.” 

“In reality, it rarely happens.  Most people who recognize us just go about their business – especially in New York and Los Angeles where it’s common to see celebrities out and about,” remarked Giada.  “However, there have been times when Todd and I were out having dinner and someone just comes up and plops a book on our table.  Then I’ve politely declined.” 

“Steve and I have seen celebrities in London.  I think it depends on who it is and how popular they are as to whether they get bothered or not,” said Carly.  “No one has ever approached Ben when we’ve been in his company.” 

“And let’s hope it stays that way! It has never happened to Benedict and me when we’re out together,” confirmed Donna. “Thank God!  I think that’s because he’s not well-known, except within the London entertainment community.” 

“If you recall, I had never heard of Benedict until you first told me about him,” said Giada.  “You had to email me the links to some of the things he’s done.” 

Donna nodded and smiled.  “That made two of us.  Benedict enjoys a modest reputation in London as a decent stage actor.  He hasn’t done anything here in the US as far as I know. ” 

“From what I’ve seen, Ben’s a gifted actor, Donna,” said Giada.  “You may be surprised one day when he receives that first…what do they call them over there – the ones that are sort of like the Emmy Awards?” 

“The BAFTAS,” replied Donna proudly.  “Benedict has already received two BAFTA nominations:  one for _Hawking_ for Best Actor and the other for _Small Island_ for Best Supporting Actor.  He also received an Olivier Nomination for his performance in _Hedda Gabbler_.” 

“You also don’t know what _Sherlock_ may bring to the table,” added Carly. “Ben may find himself with a hit on his hands and all the perks that come with fame.” 

“From what your mom says, the BBC is fairly confident it will do well or they wouldn’t have commissioned a season after viewing the pilot,” added Giada. “You might wake up one day and find yourself married to a celebrity, Donna Saint James!” she exclaimed with a wink. 

Donna thought back to the evening in Kensington when Benedict had shown her, Wanda and Tim the _Sherlock_ pilot.  _Wanda had said to Benedict after it was over:  This is going to do it for you.  I wonder if she’s right._

Donna snorted.  “Oh, I don’t know about that!  I mean we’re hoping it’s a success; but Benedict seems quite happy with being on the stage and acting in the occasional mini-series or indy movie.  I don’t foresee him ever wanting to go to Hollywood to seek super-stardom.” 

“I don’t see that at all,” retorted Carly.  “I see a man who’s very ambitious with definite goals in mind when it comes to his career.  If you think Ben is going to be content to remain as he is, then you’re deluding yourself, Sister.  Even Steve said Ben’s eager to embrace stardom and not only has the talent but the workaholic tendencies necessary to acquire it.  Even Daddy grudgingly conceded that all Ben needs is the right vehicle to launch his career into a far better place than it is now.” 

“I’ve only had a few Skype conversations with Ben, so I can’t offer an opinion one way or the other as to his career ambitions or lack thereof.  However, Donna, you should _never_ say never, as we don’t know what the future holds,” warned Giada, wagging a finger at her. 

“I suppose you’re right,” Donna said in a small voice.  

_Why does the thought of Benedict making it big frighten me so?  I’ve got two close friends who are celebrities and are often in the limelight.  They are both well-adjusted and able to balance a personal life successfully with work and fame.  Could it be because they are the celebrities in their relationships, and I would only be the spouse of one?  Sarah and Matthew are a dual-celebrity couple, so that doesn’t apply to them.  Todd’s the one I should talk to one day to see how he copes with Giada’s success.  
_

“So, anyway, what’s taking so long zipping this dress up?” Giada asked, rubbing her hands together.  

“You had Aubrey bring me a size six.  That’s what’s taking so long.” 

“The sample sizes come in sixes and eights, but this one only came in a six,” explained Giada. 

“I’m having trouble zipping it up,” Sighed Carly.  “And the bride is not being very cooperative.” 

“There’s no way in fucking hell that I’m a size six,” explained Donna.  “I’m a size ten petite.” 

“They don’t make petite sized gowns,” clarified Giada.  “Aubrey said you should be able to fit into a Misses size six and have it altered.” 

Donna laughed haughtily and turned around so her friend could see the gap between the sides of the zipper in the back of the mermaid-style wedding gown where her skin was exposed.  

“There’s a lot Aubrey doesn’t know!” 

Giada approached Donna and Carly and stood surveying the gown, hands on hips.  “You might have a point here.  Have you tried lying down on that couch?” 

“Why would I do that?” 

“Maybe that’ll work like it does with tight jeans when you lie down on the bed in order to zip them up.” 

“That’s a great idea!” said Carly.  “Why didn’t I think of that? Just lie face down and Giada will hold it together while I zip it up.” 

“No, _Carla_!  That’s not a good idea!  I’m not doing it!”  Donna insisted petulantly.  “That sounds like a great way to break the zipper if you ask me.” 

Carly and Giada exchanged looks and rolled their eyes. 

_They think I’m being difficult. I can see it in their eyes. I’m not.  I just want to be able to breathe._

Giada smiled at her indulgently. “I thought you wanted to try on this mermaid gown, so you could see if the style is right for you.” 

“It’s not.” 

“How do you know?”  Carly demanded, crossing her arms. 

“Because I have eyes, and I can see in this three-way mirror that it’s going to make my butt look big.” 

Giada and Carly both surveyed Donna’s backside and shrugged. 

“We won’t know for sure until we get it zipped up,” said Carly. “Let me try it again.” 

“I don’t think I’m the type to wear a mermaid style,” sighed Donna, turning to look at herself sideways in the mirror.  “Nope.  I look more like a sausage, and it’s not even zipped up.” 

“That’s because the size is wrong,” pointed out Giada.  “If it were in your right size, then you’d know for sure. We can still get an idea though.” 

“I agree.  I love a mermaid gown,” said Carly.  “They make you look tall and thin. Breathe in, and we’ll give it one more try.” 

“I thought I already said no. This gown would look nice on you, Curly Carly; I’m short and amply proportioned.” 

“You’re petite, and average weight,” corrected Giada sternly.  

“You’re a good fifteen pounds lighter than I am, Giada.  You would fit in this dress!” 

“I’m already married.  I don’t need one.  You do.” 

“We wouldn’t be standing here arguing over a zipper if you had just kept your appointment and met with Vera Wang in the first place!” scolded Carly.  “You’d already have your dream gown designed, and we’d be choosing the bridesmaids gowns by now!” 

“What’s wrong with me first wanting to try on some gowns so I have an idea as to what looks good on me?  Vera didn’t seem to have a problem with that once I explained it to her. As we’ve already seen, not everything I liked looked right.  It’s also not a sin if I happen to find something that works for me from her ready-to-wear collection.  I don’t have to have a custom-made wedding gown to be happy.” 

“I’m going outside to see if Aubrey can dig up a larger size or at least we can try a different mermaid style gown,” Huffed Carly, leaving the dressing room.

"But I like this one," protested Donna.

"I'm going Bridezilla, and while I'm out there I'm going to have another glass of that champagne!” 

“Bridezilla?  Really? And you have the nerve to accuse _me_ of having no patience?  Ha!  You’re in awfully short supply yourself today!” Donna Saint James called after her.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Not sure if I'll have time to post a Chapter prior to Thanksgiving. 
> 
> 2\. Reminder that Jennifer is the younger sister Emily doesn't have in real life. 
> 
> 3\. I have no idea what goes on inside a designer bridal shop such as Vera Wang's or what they are like, so all of Donna's experience is completely fictional to fit the plot line. There were so many photographs of the shops online that I chose a few at random for my descriptions. 
> 
> 4\. Not entirely sure if the real Benedict has a Facebook page or not; but in this universe he does.
> 
> 5\. Bridezillas is an American reality television series that airs on WE TV and debuted on June 1, 2004. It chronicles the lives of women engaged to be married, casting their busy schedules in an emphatic and sometimes humorous fashion.  
> The term "Bridezilla" has come to describe a difficult bride.
> 
> 6\. Of course, they just should have gotten another mermaid style gown for Donna, but then I couldn't write the scene the way I wanted to. :-)
> 
> 7\. The photo of Benedict drinking tea is from Sherlock, but its one of my favorites.


	148. Chapter 148

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of Donna goes wedding gown shopping with her bridal party. Tempers flare between Toni and Wanda. Part 2 of Benedict takes tea with Beryl Vertue. 
> 
> Note: I’ll be using *************** for things happening at the same time.

 

“Oh, my accountant informed me that the settlement check for the Osmond account arrived in the mail yesterday, Toni,” Vera Wang said to Antonia Saint James.  “Thank you for your help on collecting that one.”

“It’s always my pleasure to be of service,” said Toni, casting a worried glance towards the dressing room.  “Nothing irks me more than when people try to get out of paying a bill for a service that was rendered.”

Carly emerged from the dressing room and looked about for Aubrey, who wasn’t around.  She was frowning and biting her lower lip. Vera got up and approached her. 

“You look stressed, Carly. What can I do to help?  Does Donna need something?”

“Yes, she needs the mermaid dress in a larger size.”

“I have a feeling that one may have been a sample, but I’ll have Aubrey check as soon as she gets back with the veil and headpiece samples Donna wanted to look at.”

Carly gratefully accepted a glass of champagne from the cute butler and collapsed into one of the deep, charcoal-grey leather bucket chairs. She took a deep swallow and smacked her lips in satisfaction.

“Is it too late for me to resign as Matron of Honor?” she addressed the group.

“Yes,” said Sarah.  “It’s a thankless job, and somebody has to do it,” she teased. 

Carly rolled her eyes.  “Oh, is it ever!  I never picked Donna for being such a pain-in-the-ass when the time came for her to select her wedding gown!”

“I recall you being picky when it was your turn, Sweet Potato,” retorted Toni. 

“They couldn’t wait for us to leave the bridal shop,” chimed in Serafina. 

“I wasn’t _that_ difficult!” protested Carly.

“Yes, you were,” insisted Toni. “Isn’t that right, Mama?”

Carly looked at her grandmother with disbelief.  “Really, Nona?”

Serafina nodded.  “You were a pain in the ass, Carly.  I couldn’t wait to get back to Astoria that afternoon.”

“Getting married is a very emotional time in a woman’s life,” said Wanda pleasantly.  “I recall that I was a wreck whilst planning my first wedding.”

 _And now that I think about it, Benedict has also been extra emotional since he’s gotten himself engaged._   _I do like that he’s not afraid to show his feelings._

“I bet you were a stunning bride, Wanda,” said Sarah.

“Oh, Mum looked like an angel!  She had this big, puffy ball gown with a long train and veil!  It was all lacy with the most exquisite beading work!” exclaimed Tracy.  “My Great Aunt Agnes, may she rest in peace, was a dressmaker and sewed it for Mum after one she had been pining away for at a posh bridal shop in Mayfair.”

“Bless you for saying so, Darling,” Wanda said to her daughter, reaching out to pat her hand.  “I remember feeling as grand as the Queen that day.  My aunt did an extraordinary job on my frock. No one could tell the difference between the two, which is a tribute to how excellent the workmanship was.”

“I want to wear Gran’s gown when I get married,” stated Jennifer.  “Mum has it packed away in a trunk for me in her attic.”

“Gran also was showing a bit of cleavage if I recall,” giggled Emily. 

“It was substantially more than a bit, Emmy!” Wanda laughed.  “I was always known as the sexy one in my circle of friends and still am - I’m pleased as punch to say.”

“It’s true,” verified Tracy.  “I have her first wedding album to prove it.”

“Do you happen to have a photo?” asked Michelle.

“You mean a photo of my first wedding? Heavens, no,” replied Wanda with a chuckle.  “However, I do carry one of my second in my wallet.”

Toni sipped her champagne and listened to the conversation with growing amusement.

_Oh, Lord!  Wanda’s going to whip out a photo of her wearing suspenders, jeans and a flannel shirt. She and Tim looked like they were posing for The American Gothic portrait.  This is going to be hilarious. I can’t wait to see their reactions._

“Here we are,” said Wanda extracting the photo from her wallet.  “This was taken by Tracy right after the Registrar pronounced us man and wife.”

“I was the Chief Bridesmaid,” said Tracy.  “And my brother was there as well, as you can see.”

“Ha!  You opted to wear jeans the second time!” exclaimed Sarah with a huge smile.  “I LOVE IT!  Good for you, Wanda, not to give in to conformity!”

“You were pregnant and sporting a…what…six month belly?” asked Michelle.

Wanda nodded.  “I was at the end of my sixth month when Tim and I married.  We did it on the spur of the moment – not Benedict, the wedding that is – conceiving him took a few years.  We just decided to go down to the registrar’s office and do it one day.  I was in the middle of folding laundry when Tim rather insisted we get it done.”

“So, you didn’t miss having the white dress and all that goes along with it?” inquired Sarah.

 _And Wanda did look exactly like she had been interrupted in the middle of doing her chores,_ thought Toni. _She could have at least put on a dress.  They did make maternity dresses back then.  Tim’s in jeans and sneakers as well, I see. I would have pegged him for a morning suit, but I was wrong.  The Cumberbatches are very bohemian at times.  I wonder how they managed to produce such an old-fashioned-thinking son.  I suppose Benedict gets it from Tim, who seems to be the semi-traditionalist out of the two. Wanda still has that wild streak in her.  I imagine Benedict will be just like Donna when he goes to rent his tuxedo. Heck, she said it took him over two hours just to choose his wedding ring._

“No! I already had the fancy frock and posh wedding with all the trimmings for my first marriage; so it seemed rather foolish to do it the second time around – especially with a baby on the way.  The money was better spent on more practical things.”

“You couldn’t have changed into a dress?” asked Toni.

“I suppose I could have forced the issue; but Tim wanted to leave right then and there and it seemed like the proper thing to go with the flow.  The paramount thing was to get married.  Whether I wore a dress or jeans wasn’t of prime importance, and I never once regretted it.”

“I commend your attitude, Wanda,” said Sarah, draping an arm over Wanda’s shoulder and hugging her.  “You’ve got your priorities straight.  Convention be damned!”

“That’s actually very romantic that you and Tim did it that way.  It reminds me of my parents’ wedding,” said Carly with a fond smile.  “Right, Mom? Right, Nona?”

 _Why does my daughter suddenly feel compelled to take a trip down memory lane?_ Thought Toni. _I hope Mama doesn’t plan on joining her. The whole thing was so impulsive and idiotic whenever I think back on it!_

“I don’t think anyone really cares to hear about my wedding, Sweet Potato.”  _At least Neil and I didn’t wear jeans.  
_

“Oh, I don't think I've heard the story,” chimed in Sarah.

 _And there's a reason why you haven't,_ thought Toni miserably. 

“Yes, please tell us, Toni!” pleaded Jennifer. 

“I love to hear stories about how other people got married,” added Emily.

All eyes turned towards Toni and her mother with curiosity.  Toni had blushed considerably at her daughter’s and Sarah Jessica Parker’s words and Serafina barked out a laugh.

“Now, that was a surprise wedding if ever there was one!” declared Serafina.  “I think I may even have a photo in my wallet.”

 _Oh God, NO!_  Thought Toni with dread.  “Please spare us the wedding photo, Mama.  No one wants to see it.”

“I’d love to see it!” said Michelle.

“So would I,” smiled Wanda _.  I wonder why Toni is reluctant to discuss her wedding.  I wonder which designer made her bespoke wedding frock._

“Why such a long face, Mom?” asked Carly.  “I thought you looked gorgeous in your lavender dress and flower crown.”

Wanda reached across the grouping and patted Toni’s hand.  “Please indulge us, Toni.”   _So she didn’t wear a traditional wedding frock._ _I suspect this is something she’d rather forget, which only serves to stoke my curiosity._

Serafina removed the photo from her wallet and handed it off to Emily first as she was sitting closest to her. “Here they are!  Oh, what a beautiful bride you made, Toni!”

“What a pretty dress!” said Emily. 

“We bought it at Alexander’s on 59th Street,” said Serafina.  “I miss that store!  I got so many good bargains there!”

Toni was cringing inwardly.  “That was supposed to be my graduation dress, _not_ a wedding dress.”

“You didn’t buy a wedding dress,” remarked Jennifer.  “Why not?”

“May I see?” asked Wanda impatiently.  Jennifer finally handed her the photo of Toni wearing a tea-length lavender dress and silver shoes.  Neil was dressed in a dark brown suit. 

Serafina set down her coffee cup and began her story.  “My husband and I had made preparations for Toni’s high school graduation party in our backyard.  Instead of renting out the Knights of Columbus hall or a restaurant, Toni decided she wanted to do something different and have a barbeque with family and friends.”

“Mom was only seventeen and Dad had turned eighteen that January,” added Carly.  “They were high school sweethearts.”

“Oh, Neil was sweet on Toni from fifth grade,” corrected Serafina.  “She was his first love.”

“Neil was my first and last boyfriend,” Toni smiled fondly. “Why keep looking when you’ve found perfection right off the bat?”

 _Shall I answer that?_ Thought Wanda with amusement.  _Oh, how I’d love to tell her my thoughts on Mr. Critic Supreme being ‘perfection’! That would most certainly start a row.  Tim and Benedict would be right furious with me. It's best not to say anything more.  
_

“Perfection my arse,” muttered Wanda under her breath.  “If that’s her idea of perfection, then I want no part of it. She would have been better served to shop around a bit more if you ask me,” she quipped. “The bastard is the epitome of imperfection as far as I’m concerned.”

Wanda heard a titter from Sarah Jessica Parker, who was seated beside her.  Wanda’s ice blue eyes met the actresses’.  They were sparkling with good humour.

_I see Sarah enjoyed my aside.  Perhaps she even agrees with me. He’s given her a few not-so-wonderful reviews.  
_

Toni studied Wanda and Sarah.  _I wonder what smart ass remark Wanda just passed that made Sarah start to giggle? Maybe Sarah will tell me later on if I put the question to her the right way._

“I thought you didn’t live in New York City, Mrs. Mangano,” said Emily.  “Don’t you live in Astoria?”

Serafina nodded.  “We live in Astoria now - Prior to that we lived here in the city in a house right around the corner from Colin and his late wife. When Toni got married, she and Neil moved into the apartment that Colin lives in now.  After all our other children married and moved out, Carmine and I sold the house and bought one with our youngest daughter, Philomena in Astoria.”

“That sounds similar to what my parents and younger brother did,” remarked Wanda.  _See, I can be good if I want to...oh, I so don't want to. I want to be snarky as sin! Snarky is much more fun._

“Anyway, Toni had been keeping company with Neil Saint James all through school, and he was going back to college in Boston that August to begin his second year,” continued Serafina.  “Neither of them was happy with being separated like that, but you do what you have to do.  It was a wonderful opportunity for Neil.”

“Dad had won a scholarship to Harvard,” said Carly proudly.

“I remember Carmine and I were sitting outside in our backyard that Saturday night, when all of a sudden, Toni comes running outside shouting that Neil Saint James had asked her to marry him. She was so excited that she didn't watch where she was going and tripped on the last step, launching herself headfirst into the herb garden, which Carmine had just finished watering and fertilizing.  Toni was covered from head to toe in mud and shit!”

 _Now, I know where Donna's klutziness stems from,_ thought Wanda.

“Oh, Mom!  I can just see you running and jumping around,” giggled Carly.  “Donna and I love hearing this story.  It’s so cute.”

 _It’s not cute_ , thought Toni.  _It’s fucking embarrassing.  I wish Mama wouldn’t go into such detail. It’s none of anyone’s business – let alone Wanda’s.  The less ammunition she’s given, the better.  
_

_I certainly can imagine a young Toni Saint James leaping about in their back garden,_ thought Wanda with amusement.  _All dressed up in her haute couture teen wear and covered in manure. Hahahaha!_

“There’s Toni jumping up and down, covered in shit and talking a mile a minute, that’s how excited she was. Carmine finally got her to calm down so we could have a look at the ring Neil had given her, which was a nice little ring - once we cleaned it up.”

 _I remember that ring. Neil worked at McDonald’s after school in order to pay for it. It was barely half a carat,_ thought Toni as she glanced down at her five-carat diamond engagement ring that Neil had bought her on their twenty-fifth anniversary.

“It looks like your ring grew over time as well as your love!” Wanda snickered. "Whilst mine have always remained constant," she added, looking pointedly at her own rings.

 _Bloody hell! How materialistic is that? She up traded the bloody thing for that large ring! Shame on her!  I would never even consider doing that with the ring Tim gave me.  There’s so much sentimentality attached to it – how could she?  Hells bells!  I even kept my rings from my marriage to James until I met Tim.  Then I gave them to Tracy for remembrance of her dad. I could never bear to sell them!_  

 _Could you be jealous, Wanda? Your dig wasn’t as subtle as you thought,_ thought Toni.  _She and I obviously don’t see eye-to-eye when it comes to up trading jewelry. Fuck her. I love my big ring, and I love that Neil insisted on buying it.  It symbolizes twenty-five years of love and devotion.  
_

“Neil insisted on buying me a larger ring to celebrate our twenty-fifth anniversary,” clarified Toni.  “The sentiment behind it is still the same as far as I’m concerned.”

“Most people go out to dinner and crack open a bottle of champagne,” quipped Wanda. 

“I was perfectly content with my original rings, but as I just said it was Neil who insisted on doing the up trade,” continued Toni.  _Oh, Toni, how you lie.  Part of the reason Neil did that was because I was forever eyeing larger rings whenever I went to visit Frank in his store or was window shopping the over-priced jewelry stores on Fifth Avenue.  He knew I coveted a flashier ring.  
_

_And if she really thinks I’m buying that load of bullshit, I’m the Queen,_ thought Wanda.

“Oh, there’s no need to justify it to us, Toni,” said Wanda with a dismissive wave.  “I don’t think anyone here really gives a fig about how you got that big ring of yours.  If you’re happy, then that’s what matters.”

“I’m _very_ happy,” snapped Toni. 

“Jolly good for you then,” smiled Wanda.

“And just for the record, I don’t have to justify _anything_ to _anyone_!”  spat Toni.  _Jealous bitch!  I knew it_. 

 _Crap!  Things are getting tense between Mom and Wanda,_ thought Carly worriedly.  _Maybe I need to say something now._

“Thank you, Counselor,” said Serafina with finality.  “You may leave the witness stand.”

Everyone laughed heartily at Serafina’s joke, as Toni’s face reddened.

_Donna’s going to just die when I tell her how Nona shut Mom up to prevent an argument between her and Wanda over her engagement ring._

“I can’t wait to hear more, Sera.  As you were then,” coaxed Wanda with a sly smile.

 _Damn that nosy Wanda!  Mama has warmed to the task, so there will be no stopping her. We’re going to have to hear this through to the bitter end!_ Thought Toni.

“It was then that Colin, Carla and Neil arrived to discuss the wedding plans.”

“Who’s Carla – certainly not you?” Jennifer asked, looking at Carly.

“Carla was Colin’s wife.  Her given name was Carlotta, but Mom and Dad used her nickname when I was born. I’m named for her,” explained Carly. “Go ahead, Nona.”

“Well, Carmine and I thought it was rather premature of them to come over that night, but we went into the house to sit down and talk over a glass of grappa.   Neil had not only asked Toni to marry him, but he had this grand plan for her to accompany him back to Boston when he returned to college in August.  Neither of them was happy with only seeing each other whenever Neil came home for the holidays or over the summer.  So, they asked if they could turn Toni’s graduation party into a wedding reception.”

“Oh, my God!  So what was supposed to be your graduation party, turned into your wedding reception!” exclaimed Jennifer, clapping her hands together.

“I love how you guys improvised!” added Sarah Jessica Parker.  "That really was not only clever, but practical as well!"

“What a brilliant idea!” exclaimed Emily. 

“I like the idea of a casual family affair,” chimed in Michelle.  “It certainly saved you and your husband a ton of money,” she said to Serafina.

“That it did!” confirmed Serafina with a nod of her head.  “Toni wore her graduation dress and my mother’s veil with a flower crown because there was no time to fuss with getting a wedding dress.  Toni wore the dress to her graduation and during the wedding ceremony. Afterwards, everyone changed into shorts and t-shirts because it was so hot that day!  My youngest daughter served as the Maid of Honor and Neil’s friend, Rodney, acted as Best Man.”

 _Rodney Renfield - That wanker._   “I admire your practicality and frugality,” declared Wanda with approval.  _This also explains a lot about Toni’s drive.  Toni obviously feels she didn’t have a proper wedding, so she’s living vicariously through her children._

 _At the time it certainly seemed like a good idea, but on reflection it was a dumb thing to do,_ thought Toni.  _We drove our parents nuts that summer to what end?  I couldn’t change schools, so I wound up staying behind in New York anyway.  I always felt deprived of my dream wedding. Perhaps that’s why I’m so determined to see that my daughters have their dreams realized…but my youngest continues to surprise me with her choices. This is not what I wanted for Donna._

“They didn’t give us a lot of time to change things around,” said Serafina.  “It was the week before Toni’s graduation, so we had to work fast.  Carmine and I had all the food ordered already.”

“I bet you did!” said Tracy. 

“What about a wedding cake?” asked Jennifer.

“We did manage to have one. That was easy because the baker hadn’t made it yet.  Instead of a sheet cake, we had him make a simple two-tiered wedding cake.  It was strawberry shortcake with fresh berries and whipped cream,” replied Toni.

“Did you have a proper honeymoon?” asked Emily.

“We were planning to take a five-day family cruise to Bermuda as my graduation present,” said Toni.  “So all we had to do was get Neil a ticket and book us a separate cabin.”

 _Blimey!  An extended family honeymoon,_ thought Wanda.  _No wonder they don’t find it odd.  Even Tim and I managed to take a weekend alone after our wedding._

“Toni was desperately trying to change schools so she could transfer up to Boston, but it was too late,” said Serafina with a shrug.  “So in the end it was for nothing.”

“I wouldn’t say it was for nothing, Mama!” exclaimed Toni.  “I was able to transfer to Harvard for his junior and senior years."

"What happened after he graduated?" asked Jennifer.

"Neil returned to New York to get his Master's Degree at Columbia's School of Journalism, while I stayed behind in Boston to complete my Harvard degree."

"Toni was so smart that she finished a whole year early," bragged Serafina.  "She was always top in her class."

Toni blushed at her mother's compliment.  "Thank you, Mama.  Then after a couple of years, break, I enrolled at Fordham to get my law degree."

"I guess in the end, it was worth giving up your dream wedding," mused Emily.  "How romantic!"

_How foolish! If I hadn’t let Neil talk me into that crazy idea of his, we would have had the big white wedding I had always dreamed about.  He did make it up to me on our twenty-fifth anniversary though.  That Disney vow renewal was beautiful!_

“How did you manage to get around your churches’ requirements?” inquired Wanda with a raised eyebrow. “Isn’t there a waiting period?”

“Oh, the bishop was very understanding and worked with us,” said Serafina. “Better to see them married than to live in sin.”

“Yes, we didn’t want to do _that_ ,” added Toni, side-eyeing Wanda.  “Neil and I wanted to do it the _right_ way, so we got permission from the local bishop to be married in the backyard by our parish priest,” replied Toni.  “That gave us time to satisfy the banns and pre-Cana requirements.”

 _Hmmm…I suppose that snark was aimed at me_ , thought Wanda.  _Tim and I not only lived in sin; but conceived a child out of wedlock, according to her.  She’s such a cunt._   _I bet I can get a rise out of her._

“You weren’t pregnant, were you?” asked Wanda innocently.  “You can tell us the truth. It’s not a disgrace you know.”

Toni glared at Wanda.  “Of course not!” she replied indignantly.  “Kenny was born two years after we were married, which is why Law School got put on the back burner.”

“Forgive me.  There’s no need to justify it to me,” said Wanda.

“Oh, yes, there is!” snapped Toni. “You put it out there, Wanda.”

“Mom! Wanda! Please don’t argue over nonsense!” Cried Carly.

“I was just curious being you did everything in such a rush…” _Tim would be pissed off if he knew I asked that question._   _He would tell me that the Wanda Express had derailed._

“Well, there wasn’t anything… _inappropriate_ going on.  Neil and I were good kids.  We did everything the _right_ way!”

“There’s no _right_ or _wrong_ way, Love,” smiled Wanda demurely. “There’s no written law anywhere that says a woman has to go to the marriage bed a virgin.”

“Excuse me, but the Church does,” snapped Toni.  “You may have no regard for…”

 _Hells bells! I love how the twat is so fixated on doing things the proper way,_ thought Wanda _.  Oh, I wish Benedict were here to listen to all this prattling on about morals…maybe not.  He’d most likely take her side and be cross with me for starting a row.  It wasn’t actually a row though, was it?  It was more akin to a gentle lobbing of thinly-veiled barbs at each other. Antonia Saint James is one posh bitch._

 _Fuck!  I need to shut down this conversation now,_ thought Carly.  _Before they ruin the day over who got married the right way and who didn’t.  Mom acts like Wanda did something so scandalous when she was just living her life the way she wanted to, which is none of her business.  Who is Mom to pass comment on Wanda’s choices?  I’m glad Donna’s not here.  She’d be furious.  Jesus!  I hate how narrow-minded Mom and Nana can both be!  They both know that Steve and I were sleeping together before we got married, as well as Donna and Benedict, yet they don’t say a word about us. Such hypocrites!_

Sarah Jessica Parker stood up and tapped a spoon against her champagne flute to get everyone’s attention. “Ladies, can we please dispense with the morality debate for now?  I’m calling for a timeout here.  This is Donna’s special day, and the last thing she needs or would want is for her mother and future mother-in-law to get into a brawl over what’s right and what’s wrong.”

“Sarah’s right, Mum,” chimed in Tracy. “There’s no need to make such a fuss and ruin Donna’s day.  Benedict will be furious if he were to find out that you and Toni aren’t getting on.”

“Everyone should do what they think is right and not judge others, Mom!” said Carly sharply.  “Does it really matter a good God damn in the end?”

Toni felt Serafina’s glare from across the sitting area.  _Crap!  Carly will go running straight to Donna to report that Wanda and I are having words.   I never meant for things to escalate the way they did. I want Donna to remember this as a happy day.  I need to nip this in the bud even though I’d love to tell Wanda to go find a fucking hotel for the duration of her visit.  
_

Wanda looked from Tracy to Emily to Jennifer worriedly _.  Fuck me!  One of them will tell Benedict and Tim for certain, most likely Jenn.  Her mouth is the biggest out of the lot of them, bless her. I’d better make peace for Donna’s sake. I also don’t want Toni to toss Tim and I out of that posh guestroom. Tim would have my head if that were to happen.I would be hearing 'I told you so' for the remainder of my days._

“It’s not that at all!” cried Toni indignantly.  “Why I thought we were getting long just fine – aren’t we, Wanda?”

Wanda nodded vigourously. “Absolutely!  There have been no cross words uttered until now, and we don’t _really_ mean it, do we, Toni?”

_Of course we do, but we've got to shut up and make peace._

“Of course not!  It was just a minor disagreement over values."

"Which everyone is entitled to their own opinions on," added Wanda, ice blue eyes boring into Toni's brown ones.  "Isn't that right, Toni?"

_Okay.  She does make a good and valid point there._

"Absolutely! And just for the record, Wanda and Timothy have both been a welcome guests in our home, and everything has been going along just splendidly.”

“That’s so true! Toni and I get on just fine.  We all get on just fine. That was just a slight difference of opinion is all.  It’s nothing to get your collective knickers in a twist over.  I apologize for making a right meal of something so trivial, Toni.”

“No, I should be the one to apologize for practically insinuating that you were a …”

“You both need to shut the fuck up now!” snapped Serafina, glaring at Wanda and her daughter.  “We’ll call it a draw and move on.  Where’s that cute little butler?  I think some more champagne is in order.  We can drink to a truce."

Michelle Razala beckoned the worried-looking butler over.  “Could we all please have a refill on our champagne please?”

There was silence as the butler refilled everyone’s glass. 

“What shall we drink to, ladies?” asked Michelle.

“Per la famiglia! To family!” said Serafina, raising her glass.

“Live and let live,” replied Carly, raising her glass.

“Well said, Carly!  Live and let live,” agreed Tracy with a nervous laugh.  "Cheers!" _Mum may be smiling, but it’s not reaching her eyes.  I know that look.  She wants to throttle Antonia and rightfully so.  That twat is so fucking judgmental!  
_

“Amen to that!” agreed Sarah, raising her glass.  “Hell, if you want to talk about someone defying convention and tradition, I wore a black wedding dress!”

Carly Cipriano sighed inwardly with relief as all eyes were suddenly riveted on Sarah Jessica Parker.   _Thank you, Sarah!  You have just unwittingly volunteered to be the new focus of our discussion on how to do things the right way.  
_

 

******************************************************

 

Benedict Cumberbatch rose from the love seat in order to greet and shake hands with Mark and Steven and double-cheek kissed Sue.  Sue then sat beside her mother, whilst Steven took one of the wing chairs directly across from the fireplace, facing the grouping.  Mark sat in the empty spot beside Benedict on the love seat.

“You’re looking quite well, Ben,” began Mark, crossing his legs.

“I was just thinking that,” agreed Sue with a smile.

“I should,” giggled Benedict.  “I just returned from being on holiday.”

"There's nothing quite like being on holiday to rejuvenate the body, the spirit and the mind," added Steven.

“I’m chuffed to hear your holiday was so restful then,” remarked Mark with a smile. “You’ll be happy you took advantage of taking time off for a proper holiday once filming commences in January.”

“Yeah.  I’m feeling quite refreshed and up to anything,” confirmed Benedict.

“I’m delighted to hear that, because our schedule for _Sherlock_ can best be described as punishing,” teased Steven.  “You’ll find yourself needing another holiday once we’ve wrapped the season.”

Benedict rubbed his thigh furiously.  _Shit!  I’ve got all these wedding arrangements to help Donna with.  I hope to fuck they leave me with some free time!_   _I want and need to take an active part in my wedding planning!_

“Stop that you!” scolded Sue Vertue.  “You’re scarring him!”

“It’s not all that bad,” Mark said to Benedict.  “We’ll have weekends off to start…”

_Hmm…I notice he said ‘to start’ – that means if they start running behind schedule, I can expect to have to work weekends should the scenes involve me.  If I recall that was in my contract, so I can’t gripe. I suppose any overtime pay will also be welcome given the expenses coming up._

“…and we’ll also have one week off in between episodes, so you can recoup your strength then.”

Benedict sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.  “That sounds rather…ominous." 

_It actually sounds fucking terrifying.  Under normal circumstances, I’d be alright with it; but now that I’m planning a wedding, free time is suddenly at a much-needed premium.  I swore to myself that I would not sit back and let Donna’s family take my place and assist with all the plans whilst I was working. No motherfucking way will I let that happen._

“They’re just taking the piss, Ben.  Don’t pay any mind to them.  I have no intention of working the star of our show to death!”  Sue said reassuringly.

“Sherlock isn’t in every scene, so you’ll have days off here and there,” Steven assured him. 

“I truly appreciate it,” Benedict laughed nervously.  _Okay.  I need to relax and lighten up a bit._

“Mum tells me you went to New York for your holiday,” said Sue.

“Yeah, I flew over two weeks ago to attend to some personal business as well as to have some down time.” 

_How in the fuck did Beryl know that?  I never told anyone aside from my immediate family and inner circle of friends where I was going or for what purpose.  
_

“I trust it was happy personal business,” said Steven, perusing the plate of sweets.  He regarded Benedict with raised eyebrows as if expecting an answer from the younger man.

“The happiest possible,” confirmed Benedict with a huge smile.  _I sense Mr. Moffat is fishing for more information._ “It was an absolutely lovely holiday.”

“I adore New York,” declared Mark.  “I haven’t been there in an age.  I should try and talk Ian into taking a jolly, but between the two of us we’ve got so much coming up with the holidays just about upon us and _Sherlock_ after the New Year.”

“Have you seen all the bloody shop windows are already decorated for Christmas?” exclaimed Steven.  “Every year I swear they do it earlier and earlier.”

“Well, I can tell you that the Christmas Season is in full swing in New York,” said Benedict. 

“Shall I pour the tea, Mum?” Sue asked Beryl.

“Please do, Love,” replied Beryl.  “I hope you got to see some theatre whilst you were there, Ben.”

Benedict nodded.  “I did in fact see some utterly brilliant shows.”

Benedict accepted a cup of steaming tea from Sue and added a splash of milk.  He removed the lid from the sugar bowl to find only cubes of pink sugar.   _No demerara sugar in this flat, so I'll just have to make do with this._   Benedict picked up the silver sugar tongs and added two cubes to his teacup.  He stirred to dissolve it and picked up his cup.

Beryl floated a paper-thin slice of lemon on the surface of her tea. “Lemon, Ben?” she inquired, holding the small glass plate towards him.

“No thanks.”  Benedict blew on the surface and took a tentative first sip as Sue finished filling and passing around the remaining teacups to Mark and her husband.  

_Christ!  Is it me or is there suddenly tension in this room.  Their small talk seems…strained…almost forced in making the normal pleasantries.  This isn’t the first time we’ve all taken tea together or is it the first time we’ve interacted socially together.  They are usually quite chatty and easy-going with it comes to making conversation.  Hmmm…Andrew was questioned about business.  This must be what this meeting is all about.  It’s the only thing that makes sense._

Steven Moffat leaned forward and helped himself to a raspberry jam tart and shortbread round.  “Mmmm...These look good enough to eat!  There’s nothing quite like a nice hot cup of tea on a rainy afternoon with family and friends to soothe the soul yes?”

“It’s very comforting indeed,” agreed Mark, taking a sip.  “Ah, Darjeeling…is this a first flush, Beryl?”

Beryl chuckled.  “It’s whatever they saw fit to pack into the tin at the East India Tea Company.  I don’t think I ever pay attention to what sort of flush it is.”

“Unless it’s the sort of flush that one reserves solely for the loo,” Quipped Steven with an evil grin.  “Pardon my cheek.”

“Did you get this tea at their shop in Covent Garden, Mum?” asked Sue, pointedly ignoring her husband's remark.  “I love their products,” she said as an aside to Benedict.

“Their tea is superlative,” added Steven.

“You’re only saying that because you’re a fan of their generous free samples,” laughed Sue. “I think that’s the only reason he fancies going along with me in the first place.”

“You’ll have to count me amongst their fans as well then,” laughed Benedict.  “I also enjoy having a wander about their shop and trying all the samples they have scattered about out.” 

_The last time Donna and I were in there, she backed into one of their tables and knocked over twenty jars of lemon curd with that damn handbag of hers.  
_

Beryl passed around the plate of sweets to her guests.  Benedict took a custard tart and one of the jam tarts.  “I’m such a tart for sweets,” he joked, taking a bite out of the custard one.  The shell was made of buttery, flaky phyllo dough, and the custard filling was flecked with specks of grated nutmeg.   He wished he had taken two. 

Mark drank some more tea and cleared his throat.  “I also understand that congratulations are in order, Ben,” he smiled sincerely.  “Beryl informed us you’ve become engaged since we were last together. Such wonderful news is that!”  He raised his teacup in a toast. “Much happiness to you both!”

Benedict was so startled that he almost dropped the china cup and saucer he was holding as the others echoed Mark's sentiment.  

_Hells bells! What fresh hell is this? There’s only one way that Beryl Vertue could have possibly known where I went and what my business was in New York – and her name is Wanda.  So much for privacy, though to be fair, I was planning on telling them anyway as soon as there was a break in the conversation.  
_

“Erm…thank…thank you,” Benedict stammered as he rubbed the back of his neck.  “We’re very happy and looking forward to our wedding next year.”

“Steve and I were also very chuffed to hear about your good news,” added Sue with a sincere smile.  “Please give our best wishes to your fiancée.”

“Do we know the lucky lady?” inquired Steven, dunking his shortbread into his tea and taking a bite.

Mark, Sue and Beryl all fixed Steven with a look as if he had grown two heads.  His face reddened considerably.  “Sorry!  You know I don’t follow these things.  I didn’t even know you were dating anyone seriously, Ben.”

“You’ll have to forgive my husband,” laughed Sue.  “He spends too much time in his Tardis.”

“Writing scripts takes up all my concentration, Sue,” retorted Steven. “Everyone knows that!”

“I did tell you the day I found out Ben was in a serious relationship.”

“What did I say?”

Sue thought for a moment.  “You nodded and said:  that’s nice.”

“Was I in the midst of writing?”

Sue nodded.  “Yes, you were.  I remember because you chased me out of your office with a request to bring you a coffee and some biscuits.”

“Well, there you go then.  I did hear you, but I didn’t bother processing the information for future use.”  Steven looked at the others sheepishly.  “That’s how I am when I’m writing.”

Benedict looked puzzled.  “Who told you I was in a relationship, Beryl?”  He ate another bite of the custard tart and waited impatiently for Beryl to respond.

_Do I really have to ask? You know damn fucking well how she found out, but for some weird reason you feel compelled to actually hear the name spoken aloud.  Beryl is going to say it was Mum.  She was itching to shout it out to the world once I confirmed my situation to her and Dad that night, bless her.  
_

“I had stopped in at the Paul’s on Brompton Road near Harrods to have a bite of lunch and ran into your mother.  The place was packed with shoppers – not an empty table to be had.  I was stood there with my tray hoping someone would be leaving, when I heard someone calling my name.  It was your mum waving me over to share her table, which was so very lovely of her. Of course I joined her, and we had a long catch up over a coffee and sarnie.”

“When was this?” inquired Benedict, popping the remainder of the tart into his mouth.

“Oh, it had to be at the end of summer…August, I think.  I remember it was an unusually hot day.  Anyway, when we got on the subject of our children, as mothers tend to do, Wanda was most excited to tell me that you had finally found a bird that you were completed besotted with.  She went on to say that things were very serious and she and Tim were so over the moon for you.”

_Oh, I can just hear Mum, too, bless her. I bet she was extremely eager to give Beryl a positive update on her forever love-lorn son’s progress._

Benedict could hear Wanda’s voice in his mind: _  
_

_'Our poor Ben has finally found a bird to love, Beryl! She’s perfect for him, and will make him a wonderful wife and mother. Ben is completely besotted with her and over the moon that his fondest wish has finally come true. Did I mention that his beloved writes the Tasty Travels column for the London Tribune? I’m certain you’ve heard of her – Donna Saint James. Why she’s one of their most popular Sunday columnists. Such a kind and thoughtful bird, she is.  Donna often invites Tim and me to participate in her restaurant reviews – you know three mouths are better than one. Hahaha!  We’ve truly been blessed and still can’t believe Ben’s good fortune.  Tim and I thought we’d never see the day!_   _We’re so relieved! Now, we can finally rest easy that he’ll give us grandchildren to carry on the Cumberbatch name one day_. '

“She didn’t say relieved as well?  Mum loves to throw that in,” sighed Benedict with slight annoyance creeping into his melodious voice.  “Poor, pitiful, Benedict.  I can recite the mantra from memory. Ugh!”

Beryl smiled.  “Let me assure you that your mum never said you were pitiful, Ben.”

“Trust me, she was thinking it,” scoffed Benedict.

“I think all mothers just want to see their children settled and happy,” mused Mark.  “It’s in their nature to nurture.”

“Mark’s right,” agreed Beryl.  “I worried about my girls whilst they were growing up and one day you, too, will have a son or daughter that you’ll only want the best for.  Your mum means no ill-will, Ben.  It’s just that she feels they’ve waited a long time for happiness to finally find you, and now that it has, they are feeling content.”

Benedict chuckled.  “That’s just a gentler and kinder way of saying they’re relieved.”

Mark sighed and poked Benedict gently in the ribs.  “Stop being such a twat.  Just be happy your parents care so much about your happiness!”

“You’re right, of course,” said Benedict.  “And I really do know that deep down inside.”  

“Tell me a little bit about your fiancée, since I’m the only one in the dark,” said Steven.

_I have a fiancée…oh, I do love how that sounds.  It gives me such pleasant chills whenever I hear that word applied to me!  I’m such a pathetic clot._

“Her name is Donna Saint James, and she writes the Tasty Travels column for the Sunday edition of the London Tribune,” proclaimed Benedict proudly.  “We’ve been together since February, and she truly is the love of my life.”

Steven thought for a moment and then a look of recognition slowly spread over his face.  “YES!  How could I not recognize her name? She’s the snarky restaurant critic!”

“Who’s also going to be our caterer for _Dr. Who_ ,” Mark reminded him.

“Yes, of course,” said Steven.  “I knew the name was familiar.”

“I’d just like to say that Donna’s not snarky all the time,” said Benedict with a smile.  “Ill-prepared food and poor service coupled with ridiculously high prices are what makes her stropy.”

“Unfortunately, I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting Donna yet,” said Steven, taking one of the chocolate-covered digestives.  “I hope that will change in the near future once we commence filming the new season of _Dr. Who_.”

“You should have her come around the _Sherlock_ set one day,” said Sue. “We’ll be doing some locations shoots in London.”

Benedict nodded.  “I will be sure to.  Donna would probably enjoy watching us do some filming.”

“She could even bring us some tasty food,” added Mark, side-eyeing Steven.  “That caterer we used when we filmed the _Sherlock_ pilot was barely adequate at best.”

“Well, there’s no cause to worry, Mark.  They’ve been sacked, and we’ve got a new one lined up for _Sherlock_ ,” announced Sue happily.  “I have great confidence in their ability to deliver us some memorable meals.”

“We can only hope and pray that they'll provide positive memories then,” quipped Mark.  “We’ve gone through so many rubbish caterers with _Dr. Who_.”

“Oh, how much harm do you think they can do to a bloody sandwich?” retorted Steven around a mouthful of biscuit. 

“Quite a bit,” replied Mark.

“For Christ’s sake!  It’s just two slices of bread with some filling,” continued Steven.

“You’d be surprised,” insisted Mark.  “You’re usually not around for break time.”

“I’ve had some pretty awful catering experiences on sets as well,” chimed in Benedict.  “There were times when I just ate fruit and drank water.”

Sue Vertue looked worried.  “Well, let’s hope this one will live up to our expectations.”

“They won’t have far to go, as mine are fairly low to begin with,” quipped Mark.

“You’re a tough bloke, Mark,” said Sue.

Mark smiled at her.  “I’m not tough.  I’m a cream puff.  Really I am.  Let’s just hope whatever meat your caterers serve isn’t tough.”

“Positive thoughts, please, Mr. Gatiss!” warned Sue, wagging a finger at him.

“Alright then.  I will endeavour to think nothing but positive thoughts."

"Thank you, that's much better," said Sue.

"And if it all goes straight to hell, I’ll just call on Carldonn Creative Catering to save the day like they did the last time for us.  I’m sure Donna and her lovely sister would love nothing better than to branch out and cater _Sherlock_ as well.”

“It remains to be seen how they do catering _Dr. Who_ ,” said Steven with finality.  “Let’s worry about one show at a time, Mark.  Please.”

“How exactly did you meet Donna and her sister, Mark?” asked Beryl.

“I came across their shop one afternoon as they were getting ready to close.  It was my turn to cook dinner, and I was running late.  I ran in on an impulse and brought home some food from there.  It was a hearty lentil soup and roasted pork sandwiches, which you would think would be rather lack-luster;  but Ian and I were most impressed with the quality and creativity.  Since then, we regularly patronize their catering establishment whenever we happen to be in the vicinity of Paternoster Square,” said Mark.  “I’m one of their favourite customers, or so they tell me,” he laughed.

Benedict pulled his mobile from his trousers pocket and quickly went to his photos.   He passed his mobile over to Sue first, so she and Beryl could look at the photo.  They in turn passed it to Steven, who passed it to Mark and back to Benedict. 

“This is a photo of Donna and me that was taken at the engagement party her parents’ hosted for us.  My friend, Tertius, took the photo.  He’s a professional photographer.”

“She’s lovely,” said Sue. 

“Is that the engagement ring you gave her?” asked Beryl.  “I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s so unique. Was it bespoke?”

Benedict nodded affirmatively.  “I designed it myself.”

“It’s smashing!” exclaimed Sue.  “You could have been a jewelry designer, Ben.”

“That’s quite a sizeable rock!” quipped Mark. 

“Perhaps we’re paying you too much then, if you can afford a ring like that!” declared Steven, looking closely at the photo. 

“Fuck no!” exclaimed Benedict. “That center diamond belonged to my paternal grandmother.  She left it to me in her will with strict instructions that it should be given to the woman I chose to marry.”

“Both the lady and the ring are beautiful,” said Steven with a sincere smile.

Benedict felt he would burst with pride from the compliments.  “Thank you.”

“Why is it that the man never receives an engagement ring or some other token of affection from their betrothed?” wondered Steven aloud.  “You didn’t think to give me anything,” he said to Sue.

“You got me!” giggled Sue.  “That was enough yes?”

Steven laughed and nodded.  “Yes, it was, my darling.  I’m just putting it out there is all.”

“Ian and I exchanged watches when we got engaged,” said Mark, holding up his left wrist.  “We even had them engraved with our names and the date.  How soppy is that?”

“It’s not soppy at all,” said Sue.  “I think that was very romantic.”

Benedict straightened the cuffs of his white dress shirt before holding up his hands to display the cuff links Donna had given him.  “Donna gave these to me as an engagement gift.”

“They’re very handsome,” said Mark, examining them closely. “Wear them in good health, Ben.”

After the others had admired Benedict’s cuff links, the group continued to make small talk about the wedding whilst enjoying their tea.   Benedict had begun to relax as the conversation flowed easily.  Things didn’t seem as strained to him as when the trio had first come in.

“Have you set a date yet?” inquired Sue, sipping some tea.  “You mentioned next year.”

“Yes, December fourth,” replied Benedict. 

“That’s less than a year from now,” said Sue.

“I bet your mum is over the moon with all the planning,” said Mark.  “Wanda’s been anxious to marry you off for some time now.”

_How in the fuck does he know this???  I don’t recall airing my dirty laundry to Mark.  Perhaps the afternoon Mum and Mark met in Carldonn.   The day Donna dragged the fucking sandwich board across half of Paternoster Square when her shoe got tangled up in it according to Mum.  I remember Donna saying that Mark was showing them some new Sherlock promotional photos.  Mum must have said something to Mark about my good fortune.  That’s another one of her pet lines: It was Benedict’s good fortune that he met such a lovely bird. Tim and I thought we’d never live to see the day when he would find someone who wanted him. We’re so relieved!_

“There’s not a person in London who doesn’t know how excited Mum is to marry me off.”

“Speaking of Wanda,” began Beryl, putting down her teacup and saucer.  “It’s time we get to the point of this meeting.”

The alarm bells suddenly went off in Benedict’s head.  _Oh, fuck!  So this really is meant to be a business meeting. I allowed myself to be distracted with all the small talk.  
_

“Even though we’ve been sat here having a jolly old time, we do need to address a…potentially serious situation, Ben,” continued Sue, sitting back and tucking one of her legs underneath her.

Benedict’s mouth suddenly went dry.  He took a last swallow of his tea and set down his cup and saucer.  He rubbed his thighs as he felt his pulse begin to race. 

“Is something wrong?” he asked in a small voice.  _Jesus!  I just sounded like I was thirteen and had been called into the Head Master’s office at Harrow._

“Yes, which is why Beryl asked you here today,” replied Steven.

“We didn’t want to discuss it in the office,” said Mark.  “We felt it was something we could sort out amicably here - in an informal environment.”

Benedict watched as Sue opened her large handbag and extracted a cream-coloured manila folder.  There was a white label affixed to the tab in the upper right hand corner that read:  Benedict Cumberbatch - Sherlock Contract.  Sue opened the folder and removed the contract.  She turned to a section that was held together by a paper clip and handed it across the tea table to Benedict.  Then she removed what appeared to be a second copy and opened it to the section that was also marked by a paper clip.

“This is a copy of your NDA, Ben,” explained Sue Vertue.  “If you’d be so kind as to turn to the section I’ve got clipped together.”

 

**********************************************************

 

“Did you just say you wore a black wedding dress?” Tracy Peacock asked Sarah Jessica Parker.

Sarah smiled and nodded.  “Yes I most certainly did.  In retrospect it would have been appropriate for a Halloween wedding,” she mused.

“I remember how striking it was,” said Toni.  “It was a ruffled black Morgane Le Fay dress that you bought off the rack.”

“It was the first one I saw when I walked into the store!” confirmed Sarah.

“Why would you do that?” asked Emily. 

“You could have had any bespoke dress you fancied made up just for you,” mused Jennifer. 

“At the time, Matthew and I were determined to escape media attention by having a low-key wedding.  I figured buying a black dress off the rack wouldn't attract any attention, unlike buying a white wedding dress. I was too embarrassed to get married in white, and both Matthew and I were reluctant to have people pay so much attention to us."

“It had the opposite effect,” laughed Toni.  “Talk about attracting attention!”

“Oh, how right you are, Toni!”  Confirmed Sarah. “I remember it was all over the fashion magazines and in all the papers afterwards.”

“I remember it,” said Scarlett.  “I always thought it was you making a fashion statement, not trying to be low key.”

“And it backfired terribly!” laughed Sarah. “What I still can’t believe is that twelve years later my black wedding dress would still be talked about as a major fashion choice.  I was told that it set trends for brides all over the world at the time.  Who would have thought that women would want to forego a beautiful white wedding dress for black?”

“Not me!” exclaimed Jennifer.

“Do you regret your decision to wear black?” asked Emily.

“Absolutely,” replied Sarah a bit wistfully.

“Wearing a black wedding dress is a controversial choice for any bride, and even more so for a bride who soon after her wedding became a fashion icon for the ages,” chimed in Vera Wang. “ _Sex in the City_ put Sarah on the map as a fashionista.”

“I just did an interview with Harper's Bazaar, and the woman asked me about my wedding,” said Sarah.  “I told her that the one thing I would do-over if Matthew and I were to renew our vows would be going for that white wedding moment. I'd wear a beautiful, proper wedding dress, like I should have worn that day." 

“What about if you were the one getting married instead of Donna?” asked Emily.  “What would you pick?”

"If I were getting married today, I'd likely wear cream, just to have that bridal experience," said Sarah.  "I would want my dress to have an Oscar de la Renta feel, pockets below the waist, a very fitted bodice, a huge skirt, in taffeta or duchesse satin. That silhouette appeals to me because it's old-fashioned yet can look very modern."

“I’m definitely going to wear white when I get married,” said Emily.

“I wonder what’s going on in the dressing room,” said Scarlett.

“I’m going back inside,” said Carly. “It’s too quiet.”

“Well, at least they’re not arguing,” said Michelle.

“That we can hear,” quipped Sarah Jessica Parker with a smirk.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I wanted to touch on Toni and Neil's back story to show what motivates Toni at times. 
> 
> 2\. Alexander's was a large discount department store that was located next to Bloomingdales in NYC many years ago. I had an aunt who loved shopping there.
> 
> 3\. I've been wanting to write a tense scene between Wanda and Toni to show just how petty they both could be. Both of them harbor jealous feelings towards each other, which will always fuel that underlying current between them.
> 
> 4\. I though it sounded quaint for Wanda to use the old-fashioned term frock, which I just happened to come across.
> 
> 5\. I know nothing of NDA's and BBC contracts, so the part about Benedict and the NDA violation is all fiction.
> 
> 6\. The story of Sarah Jessica Parker's black wedding gown is true. I used actual excerpts from articles/interviews done on it and added my own embellishments. 
> 
> 7\. I 've included photos of Giada DeLaurentiis and Sarah Jessica Parker in their wedding gowns.
> 
> 8\. The photo of the blonde in the mermaid gown is how I picture Donna's sister, Carly, to look in her gown.
> 
> 9\. The last photo is how I imagine young Antonia Saint James to have looked on her wedding day.
> 
> 10\. The next chapter will be posted on Sunday, December 4th; as I'll be on vacation next week.
> 
> 11\. Happy Thanksgiving to all who celebrate it!


	149. Chapter 149

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Part 3 of Donna goes wedding gown shopping with her bridal party. Part 3 of Benedict takes tea with Beryl Vertue. 
> 
> Note: I’ll be using *************** for things happening at the same time.

 

 

“If I don’t find something I like here, then I’ll sit down and let Vera Wang design something for me,” Donna Saint James said to Giada DeLaurentiis.  “I’m not wrong to want to rule out some styles first, am I?”

“No, and you’re not wrong to not want to take advantage of your parents’ offer to buy you a custom gown.  You and Carly just think differently.”

Aubrey, the girl assigned to assist Donna and her bridal party strode into the dressing room.  “Your sister said you wanted to try the gown you’re wearing in a larger size. I’m so sorry, but this one is a sample, which means its one-of-a-kind.”

“That’s okay,” said Donna, sounding a bit forlorn.

“However, it’s no problem for us to make it up for you in your size.”

“Thank you, I’ll think about it,” said Donna.  _I really wanted to see it in the correct size first. I don’t like the idea of ordering something with no idea as to how it’s going to come out. What if I don’t like it once they make it up? Then I’m stuck with it.  I sincerely doubt they’d exchange it and start over again._

Aubrey walked over to the rack of discarded gowns that Donna had tried on.  “Are any of these contenders?”

“The last four on the right,” replied Donna. 

“What about the last one?” asked Giada.  “You haven’t tried that one on yet.”

Donna shook her head.  “It’s ivory, and I decided that I prefer pure white.”

“Brava!” laughed Giada.  “We have a decision.”

“Not a problem,” said Audrey as she scooped all the remaining gowns off the rack and disappeared from the dressing room.

“She thinks I’m an annoying pain-in-the-ass,” fretted Donna.  "Just like those girls on that show Bridezillas."

“I’m not getting that vibe at all from her,” retorted Giada.  “I think Aubrey’s been very patient, and you're not being a Bridezilla."

"You'd tell me if I were, right?"

"I'd be the first one to speak up if I thought you were getting out of line."

Donna indicated the four gowns that remained on the rack with her chin.  "So, what do you think?"

"I’m glad that you found four possibilities, but the final decision is yours.”

"That wasn't much help."

"They're all lovely, and they all looked beautiful on you, Donna.  Any one of them would be an excellent choice."

“I like certain things about each of those,” Donna clarified.  “Not the whole package.  This mermaid gown is so pretty though.  It reminds me of Carly's gown.  I love the lace work, and I’m not a huge fan of lots of lace as you know.”

“So, what’s next?  Shall I ring for Aubrey and ask for more gowns?”

Donna heaved a sigh and threw up her hands in surrender.  “Not yet. I really do want to see how this gown looks zipped up.  Would you please give it another try, Giada?  I promise to breathe in and not bitch too much.”

Carly returned to the dressing room, bearing two glasses of champagne.  “I thought you could use another one,” she said to Giada.

“What about me?” asked Donna.

“You can have it when you’re done.”

“I’m going to give it one last try,” Donna said to Carly.

“Okay!  Now, you’re talking!  Breathe in for Giada as much as you can!”

Giada tugged and tugged but the zipper wouldn’t budge.  “Merda!”

“Step aside, Giada, and let me try,” said Carly.  “Ready, Donna?”

“No.”

“Shut up!  Now, on the count of three – breathe in as much as you can.  Ready?”

“Umm…Not yet.”

“Okay!  Here we go:  One….two…three!”

This time the zipper went up.  Donna felt as if she couldn’t move as she gazed at her reflection in the mirror in horror.  Her breasts had been pushed up and looked as though they were about to pop out of the top of the gown. The skirt was bunching up around her hips and thighs, causing even more constriction. 

“I didn’t think it was possible, but this feels even more uncomfortable than that frigging corset!” cried Donna, pulling the neckline up in an futile attempt to cover some cleavage.

“You look like Mae West,” giggled Carly.  “Very sexy!”

“Belllisima!” exclaimed Giada, clapping her hands together.

“You think this looks beautiful?” Donna asked Giada in disbelief.  “I look like a sausage!”

“That may be, but I’m envisioning it in the correct size!” replied Giada walking around Donna slowly. “Yes, I can definitely visualize it.”

“You just need the next size up,” said Carly.  “I’m loving it on you, Donna! Ben will be floored when he sets eyes on you.”

“Benedict will be floored all right.  He’ll be doubled-up on the floor with laughter,” snapped Donna. 

“You’re not a visionary, Donna,” scolded Carly.  “Don’t you trust our opinions?”

_No.  Not this time.  It's not at all what I envisioned.  My hips are just too wide for this style. Not to mention that I can’t fucking move in this thing!_

“For God’s sake, Carly!  You’re not the one who can’t move in this straight jacket of a gown!  Giada, please help me get out of this thing now!”

“How about taking another look first?” suggested Giada.  “You can’t really tell in here.  The lighting isn’t right. I think it would be gorgeous in the right size.”

“Holy cow!  I don’t think I can even walk in this damn thing!” cried Donna, taking a tentative step.  "How am I supposed to dance?"

"Carefully," snickered Carly.  "There are eight other opinions just waiting outside this dressing room.  It doesn't cost you anything to take a vote. I bet everyone is going to adore this one!"

“See what the others have to say,” said Giada.  “I’m sure they’ll all love it, too.”

“Come on!  You can do it!” encouraged Carly.  “It’s not that far from here to the viewing area.”

“If you say so,” groused Donna, lifting the hem of the gown so she could walk.   “Let’s just hope I don’t trip on the damn thing.”

“I’ve got the train,” Giada assured her. 

 

 

Donna managed to hobble out of the dressing room to where her bridal party was seated just outside on charcoal-grey couches and chairs, all facing a large three-way mirror with a large, round, raised platform in front of it.  Everyone was sipping either champagne or coffee and having a splendid time.  A tuxedo-clad butler held a tray of delicious-looking miniature Danish pastries that Wanda and Emily were eagerly helping themselves to. Vera Wang was perched on the arm of the chair that Toni was sitting in chatting away as if they had all the time in the world.

“Let’s see how this one looks!” said Vera, briskly getting to her feet and following Donna to the platform that was set in front of the mirror.  Aubrey quickly stood by and held onto Donna’s elbow as she climbed up and steadied herself.

“You remind me of a brunette Mae West!” said Wanda.  “It’s lovely!”

 _Doesn’t it just figure that Miss UFO would condone all that exposed cleavage,_ thought Toni.

“It’s too damn tight!” exclaimed Donna.  “This is just to give us a rough idea of how the dress will look on me.”

“Oh, that’s so pretty!” declared Emily, around a mouthful of cheese Danish. “You look very voluptuous, Donna!  Uncle Ben will love that one – he’s definitely a breast man.”

All eyes turned to Emily.

“And how would you happen to know this?” inquired Wanda with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh, come on, Gran!  Do you mean to tell me you never noticed?  I’ve seen Uncle Ben eyeing girls when we’ve been out together – on the street, in the tube, in the shops, on the Heath.  Those blue eyes go straight to the boobs every time!”

“Until Donna came along,” said Jenn diplomatically as she elbowed her sister.  “Now, he _never_ looks.”

Emily barked out a laugh. “Bloody hell! Are you blind? Of course he still does!”

“I’ve never noticed,” mused Wanda. 

Donna sucked in some air and rolled her eyes. _Son of a bitch!  I can’t believe this.  I’m suffocating in this motherfucking dress, and they’re debating as to whether Benedict still ogles other women’s tits or not.  What do I care?  I can still appreciate a well-hung man or a nice ass even though I’m engaged.  As long as neither of us acts on it, we’re allowed to look._

“Can I take a photo of you for my Twitter?” asked Jennifer.

_Twitter?  No fucking way in hell!_

“NO!” barked Donna, turning to face the younger girl.  “I don’t want to have my fat ass plastered all over Twitter!”

“Jenn, I hope you haven’t been busy taking photos and tweeting them about, have you?”  Inquired Tracy through narrowed eyes.

“Emmy’s been taking selfies since we got here.”

“But Emmy’s not sending them off anywhere,” said Tracy.  “Are you, Em?”

“They’re for my Facebook – as long as it’s okay with everyone to post.”

“I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t post any of me,” said Donna.  “And I hope you ask Sarah and Giada if it’s okay with them.”

“I already did and it is, Boss,” said Emily.  “And I promise not to post any photos with you in them.”

Donna suddenly thought better of what she had said.  “What I meant was please don’t post any photos of me in these wedding gowns.  I wouldn’t want Benedict to see them, especially if I wind up buying one of them.”

“Oh, yeah. Uncle Ben would definitely go snooping around if he knew I had photos of your dress posted,” laughed Emily. 

“Just for the record, both Giada and I are find with Emily posting photos,” confirmed Sarah, taking a bite out of a tiny cinnamon roll. 

“Hmmm,” said Vera Wang as she slowly circled Donna.  “What do you think, Donna?”

“It’s way too tight!” said Toni.  “Her breasts are practically spilling out.”

Serafina shook her head and frowned.  “You look like a putana.”

“I preferred the tulle ball gown,” said Sarah.  “It’s nice and simple.”

“I liked the one with the full skirt and all the lace,” said Michelle.

“I thought that looked like one of my old lace tablecloths,” snickered Toni.

“That one was too busy,” agreed Wanda.  “Simple is better.”

“I vote for the one-shouldered with the dropped waist,” said Scarlett.  “It was very Grecian.”

"Now that you mention it, Scarlett, that one was very pretty," declared Giada.  "It was very different."

“I wish this one were in the right size,” said Carly, adjusting the train of the mermaid dress.  “It’s so pretty.”

Donna’s eyes met Vera Wang’s.  Both women knew they would never get a word in edgewise out there. 

“I need to go back inside,” gasped Donna.  “And in response to your question, Vera, I’m not a fan of this one either.  I also can’t breathe in it!”

Donna heard the collective sigh of disappointment behind her as Aubrey helped her off the platform.

“Back inside then,” said Vera, making a shooing motion.  “We can’t have the bride fainting from a lack of oxygen.  Are there any other dresses left for you to try?”

“Yeah.  One more, but I decided I didn’t like ivory.”

“I know the one.  It can always be made up in white if you prefer.  Why don’t you try on the last dress then?”

 

 

Once back inside the dressing room, Donna kicked off the white satin high heels and turned to Giada.  “Please get this off me now!” she pleaded.  “I feel like I’m going to burst!”

“Just stand still,” ordered Giada.  “Merda!  The zipper’s stuck!  What did you do, Carly?  I can’t budge the frigging thing!”

“If we got it up, we can get it down,” scoffed Carly, coming to stand beside her.  “Here, let me try.”

“What’s wrong?” asked Donna worriedly as she tried to see what was going on through the mirror.

“Hush up and stand still!” hissed Carly impatiently.  “I’m trying to unzip you.”

“There seems to be a tiny bit of fabric caught in the zipper,” observed Giada.  “Look, Carly, see where I’m pointing.”

Carly pulled and tugged at the zipper, which finally yielded a couple of inches only to get stuck again when more material got stuck between the teeth of the zipper.

“Ah, that’s a tiny bit better, Carly,” sighed Donna. “Keep going.”

“I can’t!  The damn thing won’t budge!”

“Are you shitting me?”

“How in the hell am I going to get this out?” Carly asked Giada, sounding panicked.   “I got more material stuck in the damn thing!”

“Just pull it apart!” ordered Donna, frantically trying to grip the material from behind.  “I feel like I can’t breathe!”

“Stop moving and let me try again.  You’re only going to make it worse, Donna!”

“Hurry, Carly, please!”

“SHIT!  I just managed to get even more of the fucking material caught in it,” wailed Carly.  “What are we going to do, Giada?”

“Crap!  You guys need to get me out of this!  I can’t stand it!”

“Silenzio!” commanded Giada sharply.  “Donna, please keep calm and hold still. Carly, please move over, so I can have another try.  Okay…hold still Donna.  We’ve got a good deal of material stuck in the zipper.”

“For fucks sake, even I can see that from here!” wailed Donna.  “If we ruin the zipper, I bet they’ll make me buy it. How much is this gown anyway?”

“It depends on which collection this is from,” replied Carly.  “Aubrey told Mom that the starting price for the Vera Wang Bridal Collection is twenty-nine hundred. The Luxe Collection starts at sixty-nine hundred, but that’s because it allows for more customization options.  If you go for a totally one-of-a-kind custom-designed gown by Vera herself, then we’re talking about ten thousand to start.”

“I’d say this one comes from the Bridal Collection.  I’d wager to guess it’s in the five thousand range,” added Giada.

“Five thousand?  I think I’m going to be sick!” cried Donna.

Giada patted Donna on the back.  “Calm down, Donna and take a deep breath..."

"I can't or I would!" wailed Donna.

"... I sincerely doubt they would make you buy it," continued Giada in a soothing voice.  "They can simply replace the zipper – as long as we don’t fuck it up any more than it is.  Now, breathe in as much as you can…I think I got it…just stand still, Donna.”

“Hmmm…it’s not going to give,” said Carly.  “I’d better get Aubrey to help.”

“Dannazione all'inferno! Non riesco a muovere la cosa fuckng!” spat Giada.

“Wait!  Let me try and wiggle my way out of this,” said Donna, removing her breasts from the built-in bra cups and attempting to slide it down past her waist.  “Jeez Louise!  I’m stuck, and I now look even more ridiculous with my boobs on full display.”

“That’s what we were just trying to tell you,” sighed Giada. “Your boobs look fine, however.”

“Pull it back up while we figure out what to do,” said Carly.

Donna inspected the damaged zipper in the mirror.  “Great job, girls!  That’s a nice wad of fabric you’ve got stuck in here!  What in the hell am I supposed to do?  I can’t stay in this, and I’ve got to pee.”

“I’m sure this has happened to other brides,” remarked Giada.  “I think it’s time to call Aubrey to the rescue.”

Donna rolled her eyes.  “Oh, that’s just great!” 

“We don’t have a choice at this point,” said Carly.  She pressed the bell to summon Aubrey to the dressing room.

“What’s the hold up?” asked Wanda Ventham, pushing aside the heavy drape so she could join the girls in the room.  “Vera Wang was just wondering if everything is alright being you haven’t come out to model the next gown for us.”

“I would if I could; but I can’t get out of this one because the zipper’s stuck!” moaned Donna. 

“And she has to use the ladies’ room,” added Giada.

“Oh dear,” murmured Wanda.  “Turn around, Love, so I can have a look.”

“Those two cups of tea that I had at home and that glass of champagne I had when I got here went right through me!”

“Would you mind if I had a go at it?” Wanda inquired.

“Please do, Wanda.  I hope you have more luck with it than they did.”

“My, this really _is_ a lovely gown, Donna.”

“It makes my butt look huge.”

“That’s because the size is all wrong,” said Wanda gently, as she helped herself to a straight pin from a grey pillow full of pins and began to pick at the material painstakingly. “It’s paramount that you hold still though whilst I tend to this.”

“Good news!” exclaimed Aubrey as she breezed into the dressing room.  “I’ve found a larger size!  It must have been from our ready-to-wear collection.” She hung the gown up on the rack and left the room without noticing that Donna was stuck in the smaller gown.

“I don’t want to try on any more gowns,” whined Donna as soon as the girl was out of earshot.  “I just want to pee!”

“It’ll look different in the correct size,” said Giada. “Give it a try when you come back from the bathroom.  You’ll be feeling less crabby then.”

“Perhaps I’m crabby because this is the tenth gown I’ve tried on, and my patience is wearing thin. I thought I’d be done by now.  I never thought this would be so exhausting!”

“For God’s sake, Donna!  I can’t believe you have no stamina when it comes to shopping for your own bridal gown!” Carly scolded her.  “I would have thought you’d be thrilled to be here!”

“Not when there’s such pressure on my bladder! I can't think straight.”

“It took me ten tries before I found the right gown,” remarked Giada.  “You have to come prepared to these appointments with patience and an open mind, Donna.”

“I have no patience!” snapped Donna.  “Everybody knows that!”

“Bridezilla,” muttered Carly with disdain.

“Oh, I beg to differ,” said Wanda curtly.  “I think to be in a relationship with my Ben one needs to have more than a modicum of patience.  You two don’t have to hang around whilst I attend to this zipper,” Wanda said to Carly and Giada.  “I can help Donna with the other gown once we get this one sorted.”

Carly looked as if she would go into a sulk and stalked out of the dressing room with Giada right behind her.

“Do you really think I’m patient, Wanda?”

“You certainly are where my son is concerned.  Lord knows Ben can be quite the challenge at times.”

Donna smiled.  “I consider Benedict to be a worthwhile challenge.”

Wanda smiled up at Donna as she gently removed the last bit of fabric from the zipper and slid it down effortlessly.  “All’s right with the fashion world again! Now, there’s no more need for you to be stropy, Love!  Off you go then!  The loo’s on the left when you leave the viewing area.”

 

**************************************************

 

Benedict Cumberbatch found that he had lost all interest in the remaining custard tarts as he listened to Beryl Vertue’s words. 

“I’m afraid you’re in violation of your NDA, Benedict,” declared Beryl brusquely.

Benedict felt his mouth go dry as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.  All eyes in the room had been averted, except for Beryl’s; and it was so quiet one could hear a pin drop.  Sue was looking inside the teapot to see how much was left, Steven was in the process of consuming another jam tart and Mark was serenely sipping his third cup of tea, eyes focused on the crackling fire as if mesmerized by the dancing orange and yellow flames. 

 _That’s not even a question – it’s a definitive bloody statement, it is_. _It seems I’ve already been put on trial and found guilty without being given the opportunity to defend myself. No wonder Beryl told me to feel free to bring my solicitor around with me. I should have taken her seriously and brought Dennis along.  She didn’t ask Andrew to bring along his solicitor – this is different.  I’m really fucked.  
_

“Erm…how did you arrive at this conclusion?”  Benedict asked, rubbing the back of his neck, whilst trying to appear nonchalant.  _I was always rubbish at improvisations.  They know I’m about to puke in my serviette.  
_

“Last week I ran into your parents at Paddington Station.  They were there to catch the Heathrow Express, and I had just come from a meeting at the Hilton next door.  I was headed over to the Bakerloo line when I decided I was feeling peckish and fancied a pasty.  There they were standing on the queue at the West Cornwall Pasty stand. We had a nice chat whilst they waited for the next train. There was an article ran in the Tribune about _Sherlock_ that morning, and I asked them if they had seen it as there were some lovely photos of you accompanying it.” 

“Did you happen to see it online by chance, Ben?” inquired Sue. 

“Erm…no…no, I didn’t see the article,” said Benedict, rubbing his thigh. _  
_

_And now I really wish I had because it seems this fucking article was the catalyst for why I’m here.  I don’t recall saying anything out of turn about it in any interviews or Karon surely would have poked me.  I don't recall saying anything to anyone…except for Donna and my family.  Beryl has never met Donna; however, she just brought up meeting Mum and Dad. Hells bells, it had to be one of them who said something; and I sincerely doubt it was Dad.  
_

“It was a brilliant piece of publicity for our show,” said Beryl, as the others nodded their mutual agreement. 

“Everyone’s curious as to what our reboot will be like,” added Steven.  “Whether we’re going to be faithful to canon or shake things up with our own twist.  Just wait until they see what we have in store for them!”  

“Much of the speculation in the article was centered on some of the most beloved characters in the stories – whether Irene Adler and Mycroft would be in it and Professor Moriarty, of course,” continued Mark, suddenly looking directly at Benedict.  Their eyes met for a brief second, and Mark then nodded at Beryl. 

_He just set me up for the revelation – not that it will come as a surprise to me.  
_

“Your parents are so excited and looking forward to seeing the show,” continued Beryl.  “Your mum said even though your nose is all wrong…”

"Bloody hell!"

 _Yes, I know. That’s the first thing Mum said to me when I told her I had been cast to play Sherlock Holmes, bless her._

“…you’ll probably be smashing in the role.  She also congratulated me on our brilliant choice to cast Andrew Scott in the role of James Moriarty.”

_And the penny finally drops.  Fuckity, fuck, fuck!_

Benedict felt all eyes on him.  He felt even more nauseous and broke out into a sweat. 

“Perhaps we should switch seats, Ben?” offered Steven with a look of concern.  “You’re sweating something fierce.  Perhaps you need to be sat away from the fire. It’s much cooler here.  I don’t mind switching seats at all.” 

“Oh, no.  I’m fine, Steven.  Yeah.  Fine.  Absolutely fine.”  

_No!  I’m not fine! It’s just been confirmed that my own mother was the culprit. Thanks, Mum!_   _And you always have the bollocks to take the piss about my not having a properly-working mouth filter! Mine isn’t the only one that needs constant adjustment apparently.  To be fair I’m the one who told her and Dad, but I did tell them to keep it close to the vest. I guess Mum thought it was alright to discuss it with Beryl._

“If you’re sure then,” said Steven. 

“Quite sure,” affirmed Benedict, blotting the sweat off his upper lip with the serviette. 

“Would you care to ring your solicitor, Ben?” asked Beryl. 

Benedict shook his head.  “I really don’t see the need, given the circumstances.” 

_What could Dennis actually do in this instance – besides treating me to a private lecture on the sanctity of an NDA?  I’ve been caught red-handed.  I can hardly deny this or try and give it a different spin.  It’s an open and shut case of mother and son mouth filter malfunction._

“So, the question becomes what next?” asked Benedict, looking down at the copy of his contract and quickly scanning the text.  _._

****************************************************

  

“That was a great idea to get them started on selecting the bridesmaids’ dresses,” Donna said to Vera Wang as they left the dressing room suite and walked down the hallway.  

“I felt an intervention was in order, so I simply created a distraction for them.” Vera smiled impishly at Donna.  “This will give you some much needed breathing room – pardon the pun – and a chance to clear your head.” 

After Donna had gotten out of the mermaid gown, she had decided to forgo trying on the last gown.  Vera Wang had then suggested that just she and Donna head to her private office leaving Aubrey and the remainder of the bridal party in the dressing room suite to try on bridesmaids gowns. 

“Shall we, Donna?”  Vera held open the door to her private office and work room.  It was long and narrow with brilliant sunlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over busy Madison Avenue. 

“I think a cup of green tea is in order,” continued Vera, heading to a tiny kitchenette in the corner of the room.  “I find it has very calming and restorative properties. Have a seat at my worktable so we can chat.” 

Donna crossed the room and sat in one of the black canvas director chairs at Vera’s worktable, taking in her surroundings as the small woman busied herself with brewing them two mugs of tea from a Keurig machine.  The only thing on the table was a fresh sketch book and vase of sharpened colored pencils.  

“How do you take your tea, Donna?” 

“Two sugars please, no milk.” 

The office was divided into a workroom and the other half was decorated as a plush office in white leather with black accents.  A long white leather L-shaped sofa had been placed in front of the desk in order to act as a room divider.  The desk was futuristic-looking and composed of glass and chrome with an ergonomic white leather executive chair in front of it.  Behind the desk was a wall-to-wall unit, filled with books, objects d’arte and awards. 

Donna noticed a stack of large books containing fabric swatches and trims on one of the empty director chairs.  A long, narrow table against the wall across from the windows had a shelf above it with several bolts of fabrics and rolls of trimmings, some made of lace and others with beading work.  There were two rolling racks standing against the narrow perpendicular wall at the opposite end of the room.  One was hung with the four gowns Donna had chosen as serious contenders along with the mermaid gown.  The other one was hung with what Donna surmised were sample gowns that Vera had been working on.  There was also several display mannequins scattered about the work area.  Two were bare and the other three were adorned with wedding gowns in various stages of completion.  There were easels with sketches of gowns and mood boards scattered about with photographs. 

_Hmmm…so this is where all the design work is done. Look at all this stuff! I wonder how she can keep it all straight.  I feel like I’m so privileged to be in the inner sanctum.  I feel even better that Mom and the others are all busy perusing the bridesmaids gowns.  I don’t need to be in on that from the start.  Let them narrow it down to two or three.  
_

Vera placed the two mugs on the table and took the director’s chair beside Donna.  “Feeling a little less stressed?” she inquired, patting Donna's forearm. 

Donna took a sip of the tea and nodded.  “Yes.  Thank you.  I’m glad you came up with a distraction for them.  I had to admit they were driving me crazy!”  

“I hear that a lot from brides.” 

“I really did want them all here with me. Their inputs were very important to me…or so I thought.”  Donna laughed nervously. 

“Everyone does at first, but I find when you have too many different opinions, which is the case with your group – it only serves to confuse you even further.  It makes you question your own taste and sense of style.” 

“I now understand why you limit the number of people that can come in with the bride.” 

Vera nodded.  “There is a method to our madness.  Usually, the bride brings along her mother, future mother-in-law and honor attendant.  It can vary, of course; but when you start adding more, it becomes more difficult to narrow down choices – unless everyone shares the same taste.  Then it’s simple.” 

“And I had to bring along my entire entourage – I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s quite alright, Donna.  Your mother explained that time was of the essence because your work visa is expected to be renewed any day so you can rejoin your fiancé in London.  I understand your wanting to get everything done.” 

_Let’s hope Uncle Angelo can pull those strings he promised Mom he can pull.  With any luck, I can be back in London before Christmas.  
_

“This was the only day where we could all be together in the same place to pick out our dresses.” 

“Let’s hope they’re being successful,” said Vera with a smile. 

“Part of me still feels a little guilty that I abandoned them.”

“Don’t Donna.  I can guarantee you that we’ve been forgotten about by now,” laughed Vera Wang.  “Now, let’s get down to work, shall we?” 

 

**********************************************************

  

Benedict Cumberbatch felt his anxiety level rising as he awaited a response to his question.  The custard tart was sitting inside his stomach like a leaden weight. 

“Hmmm…what next indeed,” replied Mark Gatiss, setting down his teacup and saucer and looking directly at Benedict.  “It’s quite a conundrum, don’t you agree?” 

_Well, it’s too late to replace me…at least I think it is.  Can they sack me for violating the NDA?  I suppose they can.  It depends on what my contract says.  I really need to familiarize myself with this contract more.  I think I’ll have a proper read of it once I get home._

“We really didn’t want to have to call you out on this, Ben; but legal protocol dictates that we’re required to,” said Sue. 

_Legal protocol? For fucks sake!  Who is she trying to bullshit? Her solicitor must have advised her to say that,_ thought Benedict with amusement.  

“We’d like to sort this out in an amicable fashion,” added Steven. 

“As do I,” agreed Benedict quickly.  “There’s no need for a row.” 

“I’m actually glad you didn’t feel the need to bring along your solicitor,” said Beryl. 

“These things have a way of getting even more complicated once solicitors become involved yes?” said Sue. 

“I wouldn’t know,” replied Benedict.  “I’ve never found myself in this sort of position before.”    _They must now all be thinking:  I find that hard to believe given his big mouth.  
_

Benedict heard Mark snort beside him and immediately begin to cough. 

“Forgive me, something went down the wrong way,” Mark said, clearing his throat. 

_There was nothing Dennis would be able to do to save my sorry arse anyway,_ thought Benedict.  _It’s an iron-clad contract.  I recall him saying there were no loop holes so I needed to be diligent about not breaching the NDA in any way.  Well done me._

“I think the uppermost question in our minds is why you would consciously violate your NDA knowing that there would be consequences?” asked Sue Vertue with a frown.  “That’s the part that baffles me most, Ben.” 

_It wasn’t consciously, Sue. It was done unconsciously.  It was a case of me opening my big mouth and telling Donna, Mum, Dad and Adam.  I don’t see any way out of this. I need to just tell them the truth and be done with it. I can’t bullshit my way out of this one like Andrew did.  They know because Mum told them. I’m fucked, so I might as well own up to it like a gentleman._

“I honestly don’t know what to say,” began an embarrassed Benedict, rubbing the back of his neck. 

No one said a word.  Benedict shifted uncomfortably in his seat and rubbed his thighs.    _They’re waiting for me to say something – to try and justify my behaviour._

“The truth is I was soooo excited about the casting of Andrew as Moriarty that I felt compelled to share the news with Donna and my parents.” 

Mark raised his eyebrows at Benedict.  “So, now we have three people who know our secret.  That’s just brilliant.”  He rolled his eyes at Beryl and Sue as he shook his head.

_Four, but I'm not going to mention Adam._

“Shit,” he heard Steven mutter. 

Benedict nodded. “Andrew lives just across the hall from Donna and they’re friendly.  She’s my fiancée for fucks sake!  Who in the hell is she going to tell, Mark?” 

“Well, for starters, she has parents, grandparents, siblings, friends…” 

“None of whom I’m sure give a toss about our show. Donna has assured me that she hasn’t told another soul.  Besides, all her family and friends live in the States.”  

“Your mum was telling me that Donna’s father is the Chief Entertainment Critic for the New York Times, and his best mate is Rodney Renfield,” declared Beryl. 

“Surely they would find this little tidbit of news interesting,” retorted Mark.  

“The New York Times will review us when Masterpiece Theatre is set to show _Sherlock_ on PBS,” said Sue. “Will your future father-in-law do the review or give it to someone else?” 

“He’s no longer the Chief Critic,” clarified Benedict.  “He’s since been promoted to the Arts and Leisure Editor.” 

“I’ve recently read one of his legendary scathing reviews of a play an acquaintance of mine was in,” remarked Mark.  “It opened and closed on the same night.” 

“Neil still does a review here and there because of all his fans,” said Benedict.  “He doesn’t make a regular habit of it.” 

“Benedict, I can truly understand wanting to disclose a secret to your partner,” confessed Beryl. “However, I don’t condone nor do I agree with your choice to spill the tea – but I can understand your motivation.  It is extremely hard to keep a secret in general.” 

Mark shifted in his seat and reached for a jam tart.  “However, it can be done with a modicum of self-control, which unfortunately you seem to be in short supply of these days, Ben.”  

_That was a bit snarky_ , thought Benedict.  _I suppose I deserve it.  
_

“People in general desire to share secrets with those they love,” agreed Steven. “I think it’s only human nature.  It’s a rare person who can actually keep a secret solely to themselves.  I know I wrestle with the temptation constantly.” 

_No you don’t!  You’re brilliant at keeping secrets, Mr. Moffat.  He’s just attempting to soften the blow_.  

“Andrew being cast as James Moriarty is a secret of paramount importance to us,” said Sue.  “We’ve purposefully been trying to avoid leaks of any kind and succeeding quite admirably so far.” 

“Up until now,” said Mark.  “Why did you tell your parents, Ben?  Wasn’t confiding in your lovely fiancée sufficient?”  

“My parents have met Andrew several times and are quite fond of him.  I was excited for him and wanted to share his good news with them as well.  I didn’t think it would do any harm in telling them. Who were they going to tell?” 

“How about you tell us?” challenged Mark, narrowing his eyes at Benedict. 

_He’s a tough one, Mark is.  I would have pegged Steven for the tougher out of the two.  I think I’ll ignore the snark that’s being aimed at me.  Dad wouldn’t tell a soul.  Mum, on the other hand, would tell Diana, Judi…Una – no, Una already knows.  Though, Dad might tell her not to, but when did that ever stop Mum from going off and doing whatever she fancies.  I give you all her attempts at match-making over the years.  
_

“Being she’s good friends with Una Stubbs, I’m thinking Mum would feel comfortable discussing it with her – being Una’s a member of the cast, that should be alright yes?” said Benedict, voice cracking slightly.   “I don’t see any harm in that.”

There was silence.

 _Bloody hell!  No one’s agreeing with me.  I guess there is harm in that.  Shit._

“Una’s not supposed to discuss it with anyone either.  All of our _Sherlock_ actors have been required to sign NDA’s,” said Beryl flatly. 

“I honestly don’t think my parents discussed it with anyone, not even Una,” said Benedict quickly attempting to backpedal.  

“Excuse me for a moment,” said Sue, getting to her feet.  “I’m going to refill the teapot.” 

_And ring up Una, no doubt, to invite her to tea,_ thought Benedict. _Fuck my big mouth!  I’ll have to call Una as soon as I’m out of here to warn her.  I hope she understands._

Benedict put down his teacup and saucer and spread his hands.  “I apologize from the bottom of my heart, everyone.  I meant no harm whatsoever.  It was done simply out of sheer happiness for a friend’s good fortune.  There were no devious motives whatsoever or masterplan to undermine my NDA.  I truly never even gave it a thought.” 

“Obviously,” snorted Mark.  “Ben, you really have to be more careful in the future with these things.” 

“An NDA is not to be taken lightly,” scolded Beryl. “It’s a binding legal document.  We just can’t overlook this violation, as much as we’d like to.” 

“I still think it was genius to cast Andrew,” said Benedict, attempting to change the subject. “He’ll make an interesting and different Moriarty.” 

“That’s what we’re banking on,” said Mark, crossing his fingers.  

“The audience will be expecting to see the canon Moriarty.  Professor Moriarty, not the criminal mastermind as we’ve written him,” added Steven.  “I’m looking forward to the viewers’ reactions when his identity is finally revealed and they see we’ve cast a younger man in the role as well.” 

“Bearing in mind that the word hasn’t already spread about Andrew’s casting by then,” sighed Mark.   “Have you told anyone that I’m playing Mycroft?” 

“Only the three aforementioned people,” sighed Benedict. _And Adam._ “Does this count as a double violation?” 

Steven shook his head.  “No, it doesn’t.” 

“It should,” retorted Mark.  “We were hoping to keep it a surprise until the end of the first episode.  The idea is to have viewers think I’m Moriarty.” 

“I think keeping Moriarty a secret is the more important of the two,” said Steven. "Though I'm certainly not condoning Ben's choice to spill the beans."

Sue returned to the lounge bearing a teapot. “I just spoke with Una, and she assures me that she hasn’t discussed Andrew’s casting with anyone.”

"Well, that's good news, isn't it?" inquired Benedict.  _Ah ha!  Just as I suspected, Sue ran to call ring up Una._

“Whilst you were getting us a refill of tea, Ben also mentioned that he told his parents and Donna about Mark playing Mycroft,” said Steven.

Sue sighed heavily and began to refill the cups.  Benedict could see that she wasn’t at all happy to hear that news. 

_I think it’s time to get this over and done with,_ thought Benedict.  _As Donna would tell me, it’s time to suck it up and take my poison._

“Erm…That’s good to hear about Una, then.  I didn’t think she would say anything.  I suppose we need to get back to the business at hand yes?  What exactly is my penalty for spilling the beans?” 

Beryl cleared her throat and took a swallow of her tea.  “As you can see on Page twenty-five of your contract, it states that any violation of your NDA is subject to a monetary fine of twenty-five hundred pounds.  I’m afraid we’re going to have to impose that on you, Ben.” 

“We’re frightfully sorry about this,” said Sue. 

“Not as sorry as I am,” sighed Benedict.  “I’ll post the cheque tomorrow.  Just tell me who to make it out to.” 

 

************************************************

  

“Tell me what you liked and didn’t like about each of those gowns,” Vera Wang said to Donna Saint James, indicating the rack with the point of her sharp, charcoal pencil. 

Donna got up and walked over to the rack.  “Well, I definitely don’t want long sleeves.  I know I’m getting married in the winter; but I tend to run hot, and the last thing I want to do is sweat.” 

“Don’t be concerned with the weather or what you think is and isn’t appropriate.  There are no set in concrete rules. It’s important that you’re comfortable and feeling confident on your wedding day. Remember that you’ll be wearing your gown for several hours.” 

“That’s true.” 

“Do you prefer strapless?” 

“No.  I felt very exposed in the strapless one.  I don’t want to feel as if my breasts will pop out if I bend over.” 

“Then we’ll go with sleeveless, cap or short sleeves and no exposed cleavage.  That eliminates the sweetheart and V necklines.  What kind of neckline do you have in mind?” 

“Not too high around the neck, but I’d like my chest covered.” 

“The Grecian style, one-shouldered gown covered everything nicely.” 

“I thought it was pretty, but the more I look at it, the more it reminded me of a nightgown.” 

“What about the ball gown style?” 

“I frankly thought I would love the ball gown…it was simple yet I think the full skirt will make it hard to get in and out of the limousine, not to mention what do I do with all that skirt when I have to go to the bathroom.” 

Vera Wang smiled at Donna’s comment.  “That’s what you have a maid-of-honor and bridesmaids for – to assist you in the bathroom. You’ll lift the skirt up, and they’ll hold it aside while you do your business.” 

_Holy cow!  That’s another reason for not getting a ball gown!  I don’t think I need for my sister and bridal party to watch me pee.  I like privacy in the bathroom._

“Oh, Carly would hate that. I go to the bathroom a lot. I also think I might get lost in all that material.” 

Vera nodded.  “And the other full-skirted one?” 

“That one had too much lace.  It’s literally covered in it.  I thought it was too busy.” 

“And finally we come to the mermaid gown?” 

“I really did like it, but I wasn’t thrilled with the way my bottom looked in it.” 

“We can make the bottom fit a little bit looser, but it does have to be fitted in order to maintain the proper silhouette.” 

“I still don’t think I would feel comfortable in it for more than an hour or two.  I had trouble walking and I felt constricted sitting down - even in the right size.  I want to be able to eat and enjoy my food.  I also can’t imagine dancing in it. Benedict and I love to dance!  I need to be able to dance the night away!!”  

“I’ll venture to say that the mermaid style was not a successful look for you, Donna.  I also agree that the ball gown is too much material for your small frame. I think a slightly full skirt with a fitted bodice; cap sleeve and jewel neckline would suit your body type more.  Perhaps something made out of tulle with some lace accents.” 

Donna smiled and nodded.  “That sounds good so far.” 

“Do you prefer a long or short train?  Will the ceremony take place in a church with a long aisle?” 

“The church we plan on using has a fairly long aisle, but I don’t want a long train that I’m going to trip over or have to carry around with me or have to have pinned up into a bustle.” 

Vera nodded and began to sketch on her pad.  “Let’s put these ideas to work on paper, shall we?” 

Donna moved over to the other rack and began to peruse the gowns. 

“What are these?  Are they for sale or are they set aside for customers to pick up?” 

Vera looked up from her sketch.  “Some of those were made as samples for my Fall 2010 collection that we decided not to use for various reasons and a few are bespoke gowns we made for customers who cancelled their weddings.  Do you see any that catch your eye?” 

“One so far…”  Donna began to browse through the rack.  “Though it has three-quarter length sleeves.” 

_Gosh, I don’t know why she decided to shelf some of these, they’re beautiful._

Suddenly, Donna felt Vera’s presence at her side.  The designer touched her elbow. 

“Donna, I just had an overwhelming feeling of deja-vu as the sketch was beginning to take shape.  I think I may already have exactly what you want on this rack.  May I take a look?” 

Donna stopped as Vera quickly pushed the gowns to one side and began to inspect them.  She suddenly stopped at the eigth one and broke into a wide smile.  “Here!  This one!  Tell me what you think, Donna.” 

As soon as her eyes fell upon the gown, Donna knew that she had found her dream dress.  She stepped closer and tentatively touched the material and lace work. 

“Oh my!  This one looks exactly like what we’ve been talking about, Vera!” 

Vera pulled the gown off the rack and held it up, so Donna could see the back and front.  It indeed had everything they had been discussing.  “I think so. What do you think, Donna?” 

“I think we just found my wedding gown!  May I try it on?” she asked eagerly. 

“Of course, but I want you to know that this was a bespoke gown made for someone else.” 

“Can I ask why the bride didn’t want such a beautiful gown?” 

Vera nodded.  “Yes. Her mother called to tell me her daughter wouldn’t need the gown as she ran away and eloped with another man in Hawaii.  They were married on the beach and the bride opted to wear a grass skirt over a bikini.” 

“That doesn’t bother me in the slightest.  It’s not like she got married in it.    Her loss is my gain, Vera!  This is the gown!  It’s perfect!  It has everything that I want!” 

 

************************************************

  

The Saint James bridal party sat in the viewing area of the VIP bridal dressing room suite anxiously waiting for Donna to emerge from the dressing room with the gown Vera Wang had carried over from her workshop.  

“I can’t wait to see her!” exclaimed Wanda.  “This is so exciting!” 

“I love how Donna wouldn’t let any of us see it until she put it on,” laughed Tracy.   

“She wants to surprise us,” said Wanda.  

“I’ve had enough surprises for one day,” quipped Toni. 

“Such as?” asked Wanda. 

“I certainly didn’t think my daughter would have gone off to have a private consultation without inviting any of us to join her.” 

“Having us present defeats the whole purpose of a _private_ consultation, Toni,” retorted Wanda.  “If you don’t mind my saying so.” 

_I do mind, Wanda.  I mind quite a bit.  Now, shut the hell up already!_ Thought Toni angrily.  

Tracy fearfully glanced from Antonia Saint James to her mother.  _Toni’s not very chuffed with Mum right now. She hates that Mum saw fit to give her unsolicited opinion.  I would have thought Toni would have gotten the message that Donna was losing patience and wanted to do this alone, but I suppose not. Mum, unfortunately, is enough to try the patience of a saint as well, bless her.  
_

“It’s just a case of wedding dress shopping jitters,” said Tracy.  “Everyone goes through it.” 

“I didn’t,” scoffed Toni. 

“That’s because you didn’t have time to buy a proper wedding frock,” mumbled Wanda under her breath. 

“Mum! Enough!” hissed Tracy.  “You’re always getting on Ben about coming out with inappropriate things, but you need to mind your own mouth filter as well - please.” _  
_

“It was quite obvious that Donna was beside herself,” continued Wanda.  “I think there were just too many people offering too many differing opinions, and the poor love was getting confused.” 

“My daughter was _not_ confused, Wanda.  She was pissed off,” corrected Toni.  “I’ve been her mother for the past thirty years, and I know pissed off when I see it.” 

“Jolly good for you then. All the more reason to let her be,” said Wanda dismissively before turning her attention to Carly.  “Carly, did Donna say anything about your frocks when she came into the dressing room?”  

Carly shook her head, indicating the bridal party – half were wearing a short dress and the other half was clad in a long dress. 

“No!  I don’t even think she noticed that we had all changed into the final two contenders for the bridesmaids dresses.” _  
_

“So, are we all in agreement then?” asked Emily Peacock, who was in the group wearing the long gown.  “This is the gown we’re going to tell Donna we all fancy.” 

“Yep, this is it!” said Carly, who was wearing the same gown.  

“I love how it looks as well,” said Toni. 

“Agreed,” said Giada. 

“I like the one I’m wearing,” said Michelle, who was wearing the short dress. “I can wear it again.” 

“I think the short one is cute and flirty,” said Sarah, twirling around. 

“I always think a bridesmaid’s gown should be long,” remarked Scarlett.  “This one is very elegant.” 

“I vote for the short one,” said Jennifer.  “Which one do you fancy, Gran?” 

“I think either one would be a lovely choice,” said Wanda. 

“The choice is Donna’s,” Serafina reminded them.  “Though you can’t go wrong with either one in my opinion.” 

Vera Wang emerged from the dressing room with a smile on her face. 

“Is everyone ready?” 

The bridal party nodded. 

“Okay, Donna!  It’s time for you to model your gown!” 

Donna walked out in the pretty white tulle dress and struck a pose for her bridal party, who applauded enthusiastically.  Then she turned around and stepped up onto the platform effortlessly so she could view the gown from all angles in the 3-way mirror. 

“It suits you perfectly, Donna,” said Vera.  “How do you like it?” 

Donna grinned from ear-to-ear.  “I think it’s perfect.  It’s exactly what I wanted, but didn’t know that when I first walked in here!”  She turned to face her bridal party.  “So, what does everyone think?  Shall I get this one?” 

“Absolutely!” replied Sarah.  “I love the open back!” 

“Belllisima!” agreed Giada.  “You’d be crazy not to get this one!” 

“You look beautiful, Muffin!” said Toni, wiping away a tear.  

"It's perfect!" gushed Wanda, also wiping away a tear.

“Oh, Donna!  I just love it!” exclaimed Serafina.  “It’s you!” 

“It is perfect, Sister! The only thing I see is that it’s too long – even with the heels,” remarked Carly.  “Otherwise, it looks as if it were custom-made for you.” 

Donna giggled.  “It was custom made for someone else, who eschewed it in favor of a bikini and grass skirt.” 

Toni blinked and gaped at Vera Wang.  “Mary Margaret O’Connell.  I handled and settled the case myself.” 

"How much was it?" asked Jennifer.

"Sixteen grand," replied Toni.

"Which I will only charge you a small fraction of for all that you've done for me," Vera said to Toni quietly. "We can come to an agreement later in my office."

“Ha!  You’re reaping the benefits,” said Emily.  “I love it!” 

“Benedict will be over the moon when he sees you!” exclaimed Wanda.  “You must buy this one, Donna!  It fits you perfectly.” 

“I think you should buy a plain veil.  You don’t want to cover up the back,” said Sarah.  

“All that needs to be done is to hem it a little,” said Scarlett.  

“A hem can be done in no time,” Vera assured her.  

“I’ll need to get shoes first,” said Donna. 

“We can go shoe shopping later,” said Toni.  

“They say it’s best to buy shoes at the end of the day when your feet are at their largest,” added Serafina. 

“The lace work is so pretty!” added Scarlett.  “Is it Alencon?” 

“It was bespoke Brussels point lace, made just for this dress,” said Vera.  “I believe there is some leftover that we could trim the edge of a veil with, but first things first.  Donna has to make the final decision.” 

“The decision has already been made. This is the dress I want,” Donna Saint James said to Vera Wang as she gazed at her reflection in the mirror.  “This is my dream wedding dress come true!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Not all of the gowns pictured are Vera Wang designs.  
> 2\. All the information re the wedding gowns are partly fact and mostly fiction; re costs etc.  
> 3\. Donna's actual gown photo will be in the wedding chapter.  
> 4\. I decided to exaggerate Donna's getting stuck in the gown scene to have some fun with it.  
> 5\. I have no idea how NDA's and/or fines for violating one work; so that whole scene with Benedict is purely fictional.


	150. Chapter 150

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Benedict passes the time with an old flame, which threatens to turn into a fire. Wanda and Timothy are forced to switch engagement party venues. Donna receives a surprise from a friend.
> 
> Note: I’ll be using *************** for things happening at the same time.

 

“I’ve got it plugged in the socket, let me know when I should turn it on, Ben,” Olivia Poulet called out to Benedict Cumberbatch from just inside the loft in his flat. 

“Now!”

Olivia straightened up from the crouching position she had been in and flipped the light switch.  “Is the bloody thing working this time?”

“AH, YES! It’s fantastic! Come see for yourself!” Shouted Benedict excitedly.

Olivia stepped outside into the crisp, cold air onto Benedict’s roof terrace.  It was just about four o’clock in the afternoon and already the sun was setting over the London skyline.  The small roof terrace was ablaze with white fairy lights that she and Benedict had spent the better part of an hour winding along the railings and around the branches of the two now leafless potted trees.  A mechanical white wire reindeer that was interwoven with white fairy lights as well appeared to be grazing on the wood flooring beside a small potted evergreen tree that had been decorated with tiny red velvet bows and ornaments.  There was a basket filled with pine cones in the center of the small white wrought-iron bistro table for two.

“Welcome to Hampstead’s version of the North Pole!” laughed Benedict.  “What do you think?”

“I think it looks brilliant,” smiled Olivia walking around the small area and nodding her head in approval.

“Thank you for reminding me to buy weatherproof ribbons and ornaments.  I never would have thought of that on my own.”

“I’m always happy to help sort things out for you.  Hey, won’t this basket overturn or fly off the table when it’s windy?”

“I’ve got a brick set in the bottom of the basket,” replied Benedict.  “It isn’t going anywhere.”

Olivia pursed her lips, arms crossed in front of her chest as she appraised the scene before her. “Hmmm…I think we need one more festive touch to make the scene complete.”

Benedict frowned and scratched his head.  “What? I’ve got fairy lights, a tree, pine cones, the bloody reindeer…what else could there be?”

Olivia picked up the roll of red velvet ribbon and cut a length with the pair of scissors that lay on the waist-high weathered wooden cabinet that served as storage and a work table.  She approached the reindeer. 

“Could you turn him off, please, Ben.”

“Of course.”  Benedict quickly went to the door leading into the loft and stuck his hand inside to flick the switch to the ‘off’ position.  The reindeer immediately ceased to graze.  He watched as Olivia tied a red bow around its neck. 

“There!  Let’s see if this will stay on the bloody thing.  You can turn him back on now.”

Benedict flicked the switch back to the ‘on’ position, and the reindeer raised its’ head then lowered it so it could graze again for a few seconds before raising its head once again. 

“That was a genius idea, Liv. I fucking love it!”

“I thought so,” agreed Olivia, crinkling her pug nose at him and smiling that flirtatious smile that somehow never failed to melt his heart.  Benedict found to his surprise that it still tugged at his heart strings.

_Christ!  If we were still together, I’d pick her up and carry her down to the bedroom and we’d fuck our brains out for the remainder of the afternoon.  Then we’d have Chinese takeaway delivered and eat it in bed._

Benedict noticed that Olivia was obviously looking him over.  He also caught himself looking her up and down, which surprised him after all the time that had passed.

_That is no longer an option, Benedict.  You’re just missing the fuck out of Donna right now and feeling incredibly horny. This must be a case of any port in a storm and all that rubbish.  Hahaha!  She still looks quite fetching though in those low-slung jeans._

_Hmmm…he’s giving me that come hither look of his.  I wonder if Ben even realizes he’s doing it.  If we weren’t with other people, this would lead straight to the bedroom, followed by Chinese takeaway.  How predictable we were!  I love that Roger isn’t like that._

“I couldn’t have done it without you, Liv.”

“You’re a right lucky chap that I just happened to be at the Garden Center at the same time as you or you’d still be lugging all this shit back here,” she teased, wrapping her cardigan closer around her slim body. 

“And you’re right.  Thank you for helping me to get all of this back here.”

“It’s fine.  I had nothing better to do,” Olivia laughed.  “It’s lovely up here, Ben,” she said moving towards the railing and resting folded hands on it.  “I must say the view of the London Skyline is spectacular.”

“That it is,” agreed Benedict coming to stand alongside her.  “It’s a pity you can’t see much of the Heath in the dark.  There’s nothing more relaxing than to be sat up here listening to the church bells and the swallows and swifts screeching overhead whilst drinking a good bottle of wine.”

“You wouldn’t know good wine if it hopped off the shelf into your market basket,” giggled Olivia as she gently elbowed him in the ribs. 

“You’ll be chuffed to hear that I’ve come a long way from the ignorant man you once dated,” sniffed Benedict, nose in the air.

“Does this mean you’ve bought a membership to the Wine of the Month Club?  Jolly good for you then!”

“You can cease with taking the piss now.  I wanted to tell you that I can now hold my own when picking out wine.”

“Hahaha!  I knew it!  They mail you a fucking catalog and you simply pick one out – that way you can’t ever go wrong because they're all good.  That’s bloody brilliant actually.”

“You can dispense with the cheek now, Liv! I’ve not subscribed to any sort of club.”

“Do you consult your crystal ball then for advice?”

“Bugger off, you obnoxious twat.  I’m perfectly capable of selecting wine now.”

Olivia fixed him with a skeptical look and raised an eyebrow at him.  “Really now?”

“Yes.”

“What caused this amazing transformation?”

“I’ve got a personal wine coach at my disposal.”

Olivia burst out laughing. “What in the fuck is that?”

“There’s this wanker waiter at the Tate Modern’s restaurant who looks like Lurch in the Addams Family and knows all there is to know about wine and then some.”

“That would be Frederick from your description though I don’t agree that he’s a wanker.”

Benedict rolled his eyes.  “Bloody hell!  How do you know him?”

“Roger and I have had him wait on our table several times now.  He’s a bonafide wine expert, so you’re truly in good hands.”

“There’s no need to state the obvious.  Frederick used to delight in taking the piss whenever we were dining in his section because he realized straight away that I knew shit when it came to choosing a proper wine.”

“Anyone can see that you know shit about choosing a proper wine,” snorted Olivia.  “I notice your use of the past tense.  Aren’t you the confident one?”

“I no longer live in fear of being presented with the wine list. Frederick’s taken me under his wing and has been teaching me a bit here and there.”

“You mean he makes suggestions that you can’t possibly cock up.”

Benedict nodded and gave her a devious smile.  “It’s works out splendidly and no one's the wiser.”

“Donna’s a food critic.  Isn’t it in her job description to know about wine?”

“Yes. Donna can hold her own with Frederick effortlessly.  It’s embarrassing really listening to them prattle on about which years were the best for Merlot production or the best type of soil to grow champagne grapes in or which regions produce a dryer wine.”

“Then why not ask her to teach you?  She’s going to be your wife for fucks sake!”

“Because I’ve always longed to impress Donna with my spectacular knowledge of fine wines.”

“You mean your spectacular lack of knowledge,” Olivia snorted as she side-eyed him.

“Sod off, Liv.”

“Sorry.  There’s nothing wrong with wanting to impress her, Ben.  I think it’s sweet that you’re going thru the trouble of improving yourself.”  Olivia reached up and patted Benedict’s stubble-covered cheek.  “Does Donna prefer you bearded or clean-shaven?”

_Liv always hated it when I would forego shaving, especially if we had plans to shag._

“Donna never really said one way or another. She's often commented on the softness of my beard.”

"Then she's either crackers or lying because you're beard is rough and scratchy when it starts to grow in.  Ugh!  How I hated it!"

"Some women actually like their men hairy," pointed out Benedict.

"Those words come obviously from women who don't have to snog these hairy men, otherwise they'd speak up."

"You've always been a sassy one, Love.  I don't miss that."

"I don't miss your stubble.  Mark my words:  Donna will say something after you two are married."

Benedict frowned at her.  "Why then?"

“Because right now she still doesn’t want to hurt your feelings.  Remember we were like that at the start of our relationship…we were both soooo careful not to tread on any toes.”

“And then we became more comfortable with each other and felt free to stomp on each other’s toes so to speak,” snickered Benedict.

_You felt free to do that, Ben.  Not me.  I was always respectful of your feelings.  Hmmm…and now I’m lying to myself like the delusion clod that I am.  I was just as much to blame.  What’s that old saying my dad used to use?  Ah, yes, Familiarity breeds contempt.  It sure as fuck did in our case so many times._

Olivia smiled sadly and looked up at Benedict.  “Try not to make that mistake with Donna.  Always remember to be kind and considerate of her feelings before you open your mouth.”

Benedict nodded.  “I do try so very, very hard.”

He impulsively pushed back a lock of Olivia's long blonde hair that had blown across her face and tucked it behind her hair.  It was something he had always one and struck a sentimental cord within her.  Neither of them said anything for several minutes. Benedict found himself starting to feel a little uncomfortable and began to rub the back of his neck.  He felt her eyes studying him in the semi-darkness.

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, Ben.”

“I’m not,” he protested. “Really.  I’m fine.  Yeah.  Fine.”

“You can’t fool me, Benedict Cumberbatch. You’re rubbing the back of your neck, which is the signal that you’re _not_ feeling comfortable with the way the conversation is going.”

_She’s right.  I’m not. It’s time to get back to the subject at hand.  Shaving._

“Erm…in answer to your question, I suspect Donna prefers me clean-shaven, so I’m enjoying this last day of not having to do it.”

“Donna’s going to be over the moon when she sees what you’ve done up here.”

“ _We._   What we did up here.  You had a hand in it as well.”

“I’m going to allow you to take all the credit.”

_Hmm…that translates into Donna may not fancy the idea that Olivia was up here alone with me for a good portion of the afternoon helping me do something nice for her.  I think I bloody well will take all the credit._

Olivia shivered and pulled her light-weight cardigan even closer around herself.  Benedict impulsively wrapped an arm about her shoulders and pulled her against him.  He felt her tense at first, then lean into him and relax. His nose immediately detected the familiar aroma of her cologne, which brought up warm and happy memories of their time together.

“You’re still wearing that Jo Malone cologne with the notes of pear and freesia that I gave you.”

“I’m pleased as fuck that your notorious nose is still spot on when it comes to identifying scents,” she giggled, once again gently poking him in the ribs.  “Oh, and it’s not the bottle you gave me.  That one has long since been used up."

"Did Roger give it to you then?"

"Fuck no!  How would that look if I asked Roger to buy me the same cologne that my former lover gave me?"

_Like you still harboured some positive feelings for your former lover?  No, that wouldn't sound right.  I'd better not even voice that thought. Turn on the mouth filter, Benedict._

"It might make him stropy."

Olivia burst out laughing.  "Oh, you got that right.  It just wouldn't be the proper thing to do, so I treated myself to a replacement.”

“I wish this terrace were larger,” declared Benedict, looking about.  “I hate that I can only fit four guests up here at a time.”

“It’s larger than the Juliet balcony we had off the kitchen in …my…our…the flat we rented.  The damn thing is only good for standing outside to have a smoke on.”

_And he only lived in that flat for a month before I tossed him out for the final time._

“That was the idea, if I recall. We only wanted it so we wouldn’t have to go downstairs each time we fancied a fag so the landlord wouldn’t toss us out for violating the no-smoking rule,” chuckled Benedict.

“Don’t tell anyone, but Roger and I still use it for that purpose.”

“Still smoking then?”

“Oh, yeah.  I enjoy it too much to give it up. You?”

“Nope.  I’ve been quit for almost a year now.”  _Except for the times when I 'm feeling desperate and have to resort to that blasted gum.  I won't mention that there have been times when I absolutely must sneak a drag or two._

“Well done, Ben!" exclaimed Olivia, clearly impressed. "How did you manage to do it?  You’ve started and stopped more times than I can remember.”

“I used nicotine patches to start then Mark weaned me off those to nicotine gum, which I still find myself resorting to whenever an intense craving strikes.”

“How often do you get those?”

Benedict thought for a moment.  “Hmmm…those have been getting fewer and farther in between. I think the last time I had a stick was sometime in the summer.”

“What was the final motivation that caused you to be so successful this time?”

Benedict chuckled. “It was quite simple actually.  Donna’s highly allergic to tobacco smoke, so I had to give it up if I wanted to be with her.”

“You must have wanted to be with her terribly to give up something you enjoyed so much.”

“I’ve never been as besotted with anyone in my entire life as I am with her, Liv. There is nothing I wouldn’t do to ensure Donna’s well-being and happiness.”

_You never felt that way about me, you right bastard.  Ben’s needs and wants were always paramount during the time we were together…and his mistress aka his bloody work …always took priority.  How many holidays did we cancel because he had been offered a job that he just had to accept because he was dying to portray a certain character? I remember all the times he asked me to not accept a job so we could go skiing or on a jolly to Italy for a cheese festival in Parma._

“That’s nice,” Olivia said with a hint of coldness in her voice.  “You seemed to have changed, Ben…and for the better from the sound of it.”

“I’d like to think so.”

“It’s too bad you’re up on a hill like this with no neighbors directly behind you.”

“Technically, I have neighbors behind me. They are just down below – see the lights?”

“Oh, yeah; but it’s not like your gardens are back-to-back.  There’s a road in between down there.  What a shame,” she lamented.

“Why is that a bad thing?  I adore having an open view like this across the Heath to the London Skyline, and I also don’t need to keep shades on the windows as no one can see in here.  I can wander around sans clothing and no one would be the wiser.”

Olivia said nothing.  He heard her stifle a giggle.

“What were you going to say?  That no one would care to see my fat arse anyway?”

“Nothing of importance, but now that you mention it; you’re right - no one would fancy seeing your bum, except Donna.”

_And me.  I always adored your bum, Ben.  I can see that it still looks the same in those nice, snug-fitting jeans that I gave you for our second Christmas together._

_Hmm…I think you forgot to include yourself in that statement, Olivia.  I recall you always paid attention to my arse.  I caught you looking me over before when I was bent down. If memory serves, she also bought me these jeans whilst we were at Uni in Manchester.  I think it may have been for my birthday...hmmm...oh, I know what she's drying to say.  The same thing she always said to me during our entire fucking, miserable courtship._

“Come on, Liv!  What were you going to say before we got to talking about my arse.  Out with it!”

“Alright then.  I was going to say you don’t buy shades for your windows because you’re cheap,” she snorted.

“Fuck you,” spat Benedict.

“Sorry, but you had that coming for quite some time.  You know as well as I do that you can be ridiculously cheap about some things.”

“I’m not at all cheap!” he insisted angrily.  “If you must use a word, then I much prefer you refer to me as _thrifty_.”

“Thrifty?” hooted Olivia. “You are a rip, Ben!  Wanda used to say that all the time whenever she and Tim would butt heads about spending money!  Hahaha!”

“I’m glad my parents and our spending habits are such a source of amusement for you, Olivia.”

“You’re still as touchy as fuck, Benedict. Sorry for offending you tender feelings.”

“That’s better,” he sniffed.

“Okay.  I really do believe you about the shades.  It’s all about the view.”  Olivia tittered on the brink of laughter again as she side-eyed him.  “It’s just too bad this view puts a damper on one of your favourite pastimes.”

“Which is?”

“Don’t bullshit me, Ben! You know damn well what I’m referring to.”

“No.  No, I don’t.  Really,” Benedict said somewhat defensively.

_And now she’s going to call me out on being a nosy neighbor._

“You forget who you’re talking to. I know how much you adore spying on your neighbor’s homes and gardens,” Olivia chortled.  “Now, you can only see them from the front of the flat that overlooks the street.”

“That’s not entirely true. I can still see them somewhat from the sides.  Look!”  Benedict pulled her by the hand to the right side of the terrace and pointed. “I can see into Frank and Susie’s garden from here; and if you look out to the left, I have a prime view of the Dickerson’s garden and dining room, which is because they added on that lovely round conservatory.”

“I really fancy that little conservatory.  It does appear that they use it for a dining room yes?”

Benedict nodded.  “I know that for a fact.  I’ve been invited inside to see it, and it’s just lovely to be sat inside there with all the plants and the rain coming down around you with a cozy fire going.  There’s a stone fireplace that you can’t see from here.”

“How clever of them!  I see they also have a roof terrace, but it’s screened from view.  That must kill you.”

“It does put a damper on my curiosity,” admitted Benedict with a half-smile.  “The only time I know they’re outside is when I smell their outdoor grill, speaking of which are you hungry at all?  I find myself with quite an appetite.”

Olivia nodded.  “Now that you mention it, I’m feeling ravenous; not to mention bloody cold.”

“Let’s go inside then.”

Satisfied with the Christmas display, they shut the reindeer and lights and scurried down the stairs from the loft to the main level of Benedict’s flat. 

“Blimey.  I wish I had a fag right now.  I had planned on buying a pack after I left the garden center,” sighed Olivia from behind him as they stood in the hallway.  “At the time I didn’t realize I’d be taking a detour to Hampstead.”

“Wait.  I can help you with that,” said Benedict disappearing into his bedroom. 

Olivia giggled as she peered inside his inner sanctum.  _Hmmm…he still doesn’t make the bed and leaves his laundry all over the place._   _Either Donna puts up with his slovenliness for now or she’s just as bad as he is._

“Here you go!” said Benedict, tossing a pack of Marlboro Lights and a lighter to her.

“I thought you gave these up, you tit!”

“This is my emergency stash,” explained Benedict.  “Every now and then I find that nothing but a couple of drags will do me.”

“What does Donna say about this?  Does she know you still keep a secret stash of fags in your bedroom?”

“It’s not a secret.  Donna knows and understands completely.  She’s been very supportive of my desire to stay quit.”

“Jolly good then,” said Olivia, extracting a cigarette from the pack and putting it between her lips.  “I see you’ve had two already.”

“Not recently.  I will have to ask you to smoke it outside, so that means you either have to go downstairs or back up on the roof terrace.”

“I’m fine with that.  How about we go to Carluccio’s for some dinner?”

“I could also light the fire and order us a Chinese takeaway,” suggested Benedict.  “That way we can continue with our catch up.”

“That sounds like a genius idea.”

“I’ll order in the usual yes?”

Olivia stopped and looked up at him with curiosity. His ice blue eyes looked almost translucent under the ceiling light fixture. 

_I had almost forgotten how gorgeous those eyes of his are.  I recall being attracted to his eyes and that sexy voice of his the first time I saw him when he walked into that classroom._

_How cute she looks when she runs the tip of her tongue over her lips._

“Do you remember what the usual is?”

Benedict smiled and rattled off a list of dishes that they had always ordered whenever they had Chinese takeaway:

“Hot and sour soup, spring rolls, sweet and sour pork and prawn fried rice.”

Olivia smiled fondly at him.  “You’ve a brilliant memory, Ben.”

“How could I possibly forget? That was our traditional …”

Olivia stopped smiling and studied Benedict closely as he reached in to switch off the light in his bedroom, plunging the room into darkness.

_Jesus.  I know exactly what he’s going to say! We always ate that in bed after shagging.  We’d take turns eating out of the containers and pass them back and forth whilst watching the telly._

“…post coital meal.”

“I was going to say post fucking meal, but you put it much more eloquently, Ben.  Do you have any Chinese tea?”

“Yeah.  I have some oolong sachets leftover from the last time Donna and I had takeaway. By the way, I’ve got to tell you a funny story whilst we’re eating – well it’s funny now – about how Donna happened to come across our old tin of special lemongrass tea.”

Olivia barked out a laugh. “That was weed, not lemongrass. Remember we thought we were oh-so-clever when we mucked around with the label?”

“Yeah.  I do,” said Benedict as he watched Olivia ascend the stairs to the loft.  “We were both high when we did that, so everything we did seemed clever.”  The scent of her perfume lingered in the air, and Benedict paused to inhale it deeply. 

_Those jeans still fit her bum perfectly.  Christ!  I’ve got to stop thinking like this and go put the motherfucking kettle on.  What’s wrong with me?_

 

**************************************************

 

Wanda Ventham rushed into her Kensington flat in a huff; her red, grey and black plaid wool cape flying behind her.  She went straight through to the lounge to find Timothy pacing back and forth whilst running his lines aloud for an advert he was scheduled to film in the morning.  She paused to listen to his rich, deep voice recite the lines:

“Nescafe Black Gold is a deeply satisfying, aromatic coffee with strength of character. A rich and full-bodied, premium coffee with strong toasted notes, which is why Nescafe Black Gold has earned its well-deserved reputation as the Gold Standard of instant coffees.  Pause, take sip of rubbish coffee, smack lips as if I’m actually enjoying the shit and smile seductively for the camera.”

“Well done!” Wanda applauded him. “With that sexy voice of yours, I’d go running straight out to Tesco to buy myself a jar or two.”

Timothy blushed.  “Thank you, Pet.  If this advert is well-received, my agent tells me there will be three additional spots.”

“What I want to know is that coffee really rubbish?” inquired Wanda, removing her black fedora and setting it on one of the wing chairs. 

Timothy stopped pacing to take in his wife, who was in the act of peeling off her black leather gloves.  She appeared to be a bit agitated, and her face wore a pinched expression as if something had surely gone wrong.

_Something’s amiss.  I know that expression very well.  I wonder who she had a row with and why._

“I can’t say for certain as you’ve never bought that brand. However, being I’ll have to drink it over the course of several takes; I’ll most likely come to despise it,” Chuckled Timothy.  “That’s how it is with food and drink adverts.”

“Then you’ll have to make sure to nail it in one take then,” laughed Wanda.  “The last thing I need is for you to come home all jumped up on caffeine.”

“So, how did the booking go for the engagement party go?”

“It didn’t,” sighed Wanda, taking off her cape. 

_That explains why she’s stropy._

“Were they not receptive to the idea of our bringing along a cake and champagne?”

“We don’t have a booking is what I mean!  Their private room is all booked up with holiday parties until after the New Year!”

“Even Boxing Day is spoken for?”

Wanda nodded.  “It is.”

“What about the first weekend after New Year’s then?”

“Those dates were wide open; but Ben’s friend, Mark Chaplin is getting married, and he’s going to be an usher.  Then it’s straight off to Cardiff for _Sherlock_ filming.  We can hardly host an engagement do without the groom-to-be!”

“What if we were to book a few of those large tables in the main dining room then?”

“Have you forgotten this is the holiday season?”

“No…”   _Yes.  I won't again though._

“Everyone is having parties – offices, families!  I’ve been having a wander around Chinatown for a good part of the afternoon looking for a spot to host the party at, and everything is completely booked!  All I kept hearing is that I should have booked sooner in order to have my choice of date, but I had no idea when Donna was coming back from the States until recently!”

“Have you told Ben yet?”

“No!  He’d only be too pleased to hear that.”

Timothy nodded.  “You’re right.  He’ll be chuffed as fuck. So what are our other options, Commander?”

“I called Carluccio’s in Hampstead, but they’re too small to accommodate us and booked.”

“Because it's the holiday season. How about the one in Covent Garden?  That location is larger.”

“I did think of it on my way to Lauduree to buy some macarons.  It’s also booked.”

“Well, at least that wasn’t a total loss. May I have a macaron then?”

“I didn’t buy any to take home.  I sat and had some with some tea whilst I did some thinking.”

“Oh.  Well, what about the Spaghetti House?”

Wanda frowned at him.  “Would you think to take a proper food critic there?”

“No, you’re right.  I consider myself properly chastised for even bringing it up.  No wonder you’re in such a strop.”

“I even tried Maggie Jones and a few of the places we frequent along the High Street to no avail.  Honestly, Tim, I’m at my wits end.  I so regret the day we offered to host a party for them!”

“Ahem. You’re forgetting someplace that will do a perfectly splendid party, Pet.”

“The Garrick Club is not an option.  Donna is dead set against it.”

“What about the Orangery?”

“Booked.  I also thought we were trying to hold down the cost, so we’d have a decent amount to contribute to the wedding.”

“We are.”

“Well then?”

“We could ask Ben if we could use his Ivy Club membership to book us a party.  I’m sure they could accommodate a sit-down dinner in one of their private dining rooms for a member.  We’d have to cut back on the guest list substantially though as that will be quite pricey – even more so than the Garrick Club.”

“The Ivy Club is also a no go.”

“How do you know?  Did you read it in your tea leaves?”

“I called and pretended to be calling for Ben.  I pleaded and tried to wheedle a booking; but they’re booked solid – even for members.”

"How about if I have a go at it?  You always say that I sound just like Ben on the phone.  Maybe I'll get someone else and have better luck."

"Okay," said Wanda, going to the landline and handing the handset to Timothy.  "Go ahead."

Five minutes later, Timothy cut the connection and returned the handset to the base.  "That was an excercise in futility and I even had a different person. It is the holiday season, you know!"

"We could wait a try again tomorrow."

“I’m glad to hear your enthusiasm for covert spying techniques hasn’t been dampened by all this, but I think we need to cross the Ivy Club off our list.”

“Hells bells!  Why does everything have to go wrong?”

“It’s not Donna’s fault that she got detained in the States, Wanda.”

“She’s coming back at such a dreadfully busy time of year.”

“Would you have preferred that she stay in the States until after New Year’s then?”

“Of course not!  We’ve got so much to do with the wedding planning!”

“No.  Ben and Donna have so much to do with the wedding planning.  Our sole task is to plan their engagement party.”

“I suppose I could cook a dinner here in the flat.”

“And where, pray tell, do you intend to put everyone?  It’s rather chilly to ask people to go out onto the balcony and up on the roof terrace yes? Besides you wouldn’t be able to enjoy yourself.  It wouldn’t be fair to you or to me for that matter as I'll be acting as your assistant.”

“Good point.  For fucks sake! I don’t know what to do, Tim!”

“Yes, you do, Wanda.”

“She’ll be furious and rightfully so.”

“I don’t think I give a toss as to whether Donna approves or not at this point.  Given the circumstances and abominable timing, she needs to shut up and be gracious and happy that we’re throwing them an engagement party in the first place.”

Timothy sat down at the desk and picked up the phone.  He took out a lined yellow pad and pen from the drawer.  “I’ll need an idea as to the headcount for the party.”

“Say fifty all told.  Not everyone will be able to come...”

"Because of the holidays, I realize that."

"I hope Amber can come."

“As do I.  Now, back to the business at hand. I’ll inquire about a drinks reception with hot and cold canapes yes? The champagne toast will most likely be extra as well as a cake, but by skipping a formal sit down dinner, we should be able to swing it and have what left over to contribute to the wedding. I’m thinking of doing it on a Friday or Saturday night.”

“Alright then,” Sighed Wanda. “Are you calling Ben first to fill him in?”

“No.  I’m doing what we should have done in the first place.  I’m calling the Garrick Club first to see if I can book us an engagement party.”

 

*************************************************

 

Benedict Cumberbatch was stood behind his breakfast bar, unpacking the containers of Chinese food from the brown paper takeaway bag; whilst Olivia sat on one of the stools on the opposite side of the counter watching him. 

“Mmm…it smells delicious!”

“Doesn’t it just?  I haven’t had their spring rolls and sweet and sour pork from Gold Fish in an age,” declared Benedict.  “I can’t wait to tuck into this!”

“Don’t you and Donna ever have Chinese takeaway?”

“Of course we do.  We just order in different things.  Donna likes to try things she hasn’t had before.  She’s a very adventurous eater. I think of it as broadening our culinary horizons.”

“Jolly good for you both then.  There’s nothing wrong with having your old favourites though.  It’s familiar and comforting…like wearing your favourite old pair of pajamas,” scoffed Olivia. “I’m also a very adventurous eater – in case you’ve forgotten.”

“No, I haven’t,” smiled Benedict.  “Remember that time we went to that restaurant where we had their ‘nose-to-tail’ special set meal?”

“Now, that was an adventurous and epic meal,” declared Olivia.  “We had braised ox cheek pie, which was lovely, and lamb kidneys stuffed with almond tapenade. Mmmm…my mouth still waters at the memory.”

“I fancied the Korean-style beef heart and pickled pork tongue with the poached quail egg on watercress.  The heart was cooked with sesame oil, honey and mirin.  Very, very tasty; and it came with an Asian coleslaw and a sesame mayonaise dipping sauce that was brilliant. What else was there?  I seem to recall eating something with tripe yes?”

“Yeah!  Roman style tripe cooked in a tomato sauce.  They cut it in ribbons like pasta.  That was quite tasty.”

“Oh, yes!  I do remember that dish.  It was quite…”

_Yummy.  Donna would have said yummy, and I would have made a joke about it. Then we would have had a giggle over it.  I miss her so fucking much._

“…tasty.”

Olivia pulled the empty glass biscuit jar towards her and lifted the lid.  She sniffed. “Do you keep biscuits in here?  I really fancy the jar.”

Benedict nodded and gazed at the glass jar fondly as that night in his flat when he had first cooked Donna dinner came back to him:

_**“My mom always has homemade cookies on hand in her cookie jar.  It’s just nice to know there is always a tasty treat waiting, should you have a craving.”** _

“Donna bought it for me in the early stages of our courtship.  She had come for dinner and gave it to me as a host gift.  I remember it was filled with these incredible homemade peanut butter biscuits.  She said her mother always kept a jar filled with biscuits in their kitchen, and she wanted to share the tradition with me.  So, once a week, I can count on Donna to fill it with freshly baked treats for me.  Sadly, it’s been empty since she’s been stuck in the States; but I have every confidence that it’ll be full again starting next week.”

“What a lovely tradition.  Donna obviously knows what a tart you are for sweets.”

“Yeah, she does. She's also every bit as bad as I am.  The two of us are perfectly happy to only eat cake for dinner. Anyway, it’s so very lovely of her to want to do this for me.  It’s such a comforting thing to come home at the end of the day and see the jarful of treats waiting for me.  It just cheers me, and reminds me that I’m loved.  Donna always bakes a different kind, so it’s always a surprise. I’m just so fucking lucky to have her in my life. I’m so over the moon.”  He paused to wipe a tear from the corner of his eyes.  “Christ, I get so soppy whenever I think about how thoughtful and generous she is.”

_It’s nice to see that Ben still gets soppy at the drop of a hat._

Olivia smiled softly at Benedict and reached out across the counter to squeeze his hand.  His smooth skin felt warm and familiar to her touch and there was a brief tingle.  She noticed that he had looked a bit startled by the contact.

“Don’t _ever_ lose your soppiness, Ben.  It’s one of things about you that make you so lovable in my eyes.”

_He must have felt it as well.  It’s hard to let go of old feelings. I thought I had buried mine.  I shouldn’t have touched him, but I only meant to comfort him.  I also shouldn’t have said that.  It makes me sound as if I’m still besotted with him, which I’m not.  I love Roger._

The touch of her hand had caused Benedict to shiver.  _It’s been a long time since our hands have touched.  I didn’t feel that way when we exchanged hugs and kisses in the garden center. That was two old friends coming together in greeting. There was something intimate and familiar about this touch.  I don’t want to have any leftover feelings.  I’m on a new path headed towards a wonderful new life with Donna.  The last thing I need in my life right now is a complication called Olivia Poulet, albeit a very lovely one._

“My intent was to comfort you, Ben, as a friend.  I didn’t mean anything more than that.”

_Did I?  I think I lie.  I think I may have been fishing for a little kiss. I wonder if he’s still a good snogger.  He really knew how to use those gorgeous lips of his!  Roger’s good, but he’s not in Ben’s league when it comes to snogging._

“I realize that, Liv.  I didn’t read anything more into it.”  _I think I may have just lied a bit.  I think she may have wanted for us to kiss. Christ, she really excelled at deep throating me. We had some marvelous sex over the years. Why are these memories suddenly bubbling to the surface?_

_Liar. Your eyes are the window to your soul, Benedict.  You enjoyed the contact.  You want more as much as I do, but neither of us should act on impulse. As he’s so fond of saying:  the past needs to remain there._

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck and cleared his throat.

_And now he’s going to say it’s an embarrassment of riches._

“It’s an embarrassment of riches.  Little things like the biscuits make me realize how fucking lucky I am to have Donna in my life.”

Benedict opened the carton of spring rolls and Olivia immediately pulled it across the counter so she could help herself to one.

_She never could wait until I was done plating, bless her_.

“Feel free to start without me,” he quipped. 

“I don’t mind if I do then! These look and smell brilliant!”

_I was being sarcastic, but as usual it was lost on her. I meant that I was going to get a plate to set them out on.  Some things never change._

Benedict opened the cupboard and scratched his head as he wondered why it was almost empty.  He crossed the small area and peered into his sink, which was filled with dirty dishes. _Motherfucker!  I forgot to load the dishwasher again._

Olivia leaned over and took a small plastic container of plum chili sauce and dipped her spring roll into it.  She took a bite and chewed.

“OH, MY!!!  These are absolutely scrumptious! They’re still hot and all nice and crispy!”  

Benedict watched in horror as Olivia dipped the bitten end back into the plum sauce, took another bite and repeated her action.

“Hey!” Benedict instantly pulled the container away from her.  “Mind your manners!  What’s this shit with the double-dipping?”

Olivia grabbed the container away from him and barked out a laugh in disbelief.  “What fresh hell is this, Ben?  We _always_ double-dip.”

“ _Never_ from the same container.”

“Stop being such a dick. Of course we did!  We’ve shared everything from drinks, to fags, to food, to…”

_Oh, I shouldn’t go there.  We’re not together anymore.  It’s not like I can say anything I please to him.  It’s funny how we just fall right back into the same pattern of bickering._

“To what?  You were going to continue, but stopped short.”

“Nothing.”

Benedict stood with his hands on his hips, looking peeved.  “Come on, Liv.  As you were.”

“Alright then.  Bodily fluids,” she gave him a cheeky smile, dipped the spring roll into the sauce and took another bite.  She winked at him and smiled saucily at him.

“That was very cheeky.  You're such a cunt at times.”

“Well, don’t suddenly tell me that sharing some plum sauce suddenly turns you off because _nothing_ turns you off.”

Olivia began to giggle as Benedict felt himself blush.

_She’s thinking of the times when we shagged whilst she was on her period.  She’s right.  It takes a lot to turn me off._

“It’s just not good policy to mingle germs that.” 

_Donna would be chuffed as fuck to hear me say that_ , thought Benedict. _What in the hell is happening to me?  This is Olivia I’m talking to.  Olivia, who I was every bit as intimate with as I am with Donna - and for over a much longer time span._

“You never gave two shits about co-mingling our germs before,” she snorted.  "Holy Christ, Ben!  I can't believe you're saying this shit to me after all we've done together!"

“That was before I came down with glandular fever whilst we were at Manchester, courtesy of you,” Benedict pointed out.   “Believe me; I learnt my lesson well after that.”

_Has he forgotten all the history between us? This is too funny!  Ben was never super-obsessed with germs.  He was always a touch neurotic; but not to this extent. This sounds more like Donna’s influence.  Oh, I can't wait to meet the likes of her at that wedding!_

“May I remind you that we still shared food, drink and fags well after you recovered from glandular fever?”

_She’s right.  I hadn’t learnt my lesson. We were always catching colds and shit from each other.  The shared yeast infection was the worst._

_Oh, my God!  The time I passed the yeast infection to him was awful!  He didn't speak to me for the duration of his treatment.  Hahaha!_

“Yes, yes.  Let us not forget the vomiting bug and bout of dysentery,” chuckled Benedict.

“Shit!  Those were two bloody awful experiences!  We were too weak to get out of bed and trying to bribe each other to go fetch water and tea.”

“We haven’t had any of those experiences. Donna and I make it a habit to use hand sanitizer prior to eating.”

Olivia laughed uproariously.  “Jesus Christ!  You sure as shit have changed!  That’s fine.  Isn’t that an extra plum sauce by your left hand?  Now, we can each have our own; and I can double-dip until my heart’s content without being dressed down by you.”

“I didn’t mean to dress you down.  I apologize.”

_Well, that’s bullshit.  He meant to dress me down and I know deep down inside that he’s not the least bit sorry._

Olivia wiped her greasy fingers on the serviette and took another spring roll from the container.  She said nothing to him. 

_Just like old times,_ thought Benedict. 

“Well, to be honest, the flu is starting to make its rounds early this year; and I don’t need to catch it.  I commence filming _Sherlock_ straight after the holidays.”

“You have nothing to fear from me.  I got a flu shot last month.”

“That reminds me.  I really need to call Mark and get one.”

“Now, that’s refreshing.  You never bothered with one before.  Why the sudden change?”

_It’s called Donna’s been nagging at me to get one._

“I’m still leery of getting one as I always had a reaction each time I’ve gotten one.  The last time I developed a fever and body aches.  I was fucking miserable and swore I’d rather take my chances with the flu.”

“You’ve never experienced the flu or you wouldn’t say that.  It’s bloody miserable.”

_I suppose I’ll do it Monday. Donna gets in Wednesday morning, so I should be over with any reaction I get by then._

“You said filming starts after the holidays. Does that mean you won’t be at Mark and Juliette’s wedding then?”

“No.  The first day of filming is January eleventh, which is the week after the wedding.  We have our read-through in London the week prior to actual filming, and then it’s off to Cardiff for studio filming.”

“I’m looking forward to meeting Donna at the wedding.”

“She’s looking forward to meeting you as well.”

“Somehow I doubt that,” scoffed Olivia.

“And why would you say that?  You’re a perfectly lovely person.”

Olivia giggled.  “Oh, Ben!  You’re so naive at times.  Do you really think Donna wants to spend a lot of time with your ex?  The ex who you were in a relationship with for over a decade with?”

“Donna’s very curious about us.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“What did you tell her exactly?”

“The truth.  Now, did you lay the table or do I have to do it?”

_Hmmm…he told her the truth according to Benedict no doubt. I’m sure he did a lot of editing in his version; otherwise she’d tell him to go fuck himself after hearing some of the crap he’s pulled…especially, his close call with his Hedda Gabbler co-star. Had I walked in on them two minutes later, I would have literally caught him with his dick in her mouth. There’s no way in motherfucking hell she was on her knees in front on him like that because she had dropped something.  Did he think I was blind or that clueless?  I saw the telltale bulge in his trousers that he tried to cover up with his script._

“Umm…no.  Whilst you were paying the delivery boy, I did intend to lay the table; but there weren’t any clean dishes or cutlery to be found - Unless you’ve taken to storing them inside your sink, and I mistook them for dirty dishes.  I was able to make the tea though.  Thank God you had clean beakers.  I also took the liberty of opening that bottle of chardonnay you had stashed away in the fridge, so I hope you have clean wine goblets.”

_Bloody hell! Oh, I don't miss how she's forever at the ready with a snarky comment.  I detest it even more when she's right!_

“Yes, I do.  I’ll get them, but aren’t you afraid to drink my wine?”

“Not at all. I no longer have any fear of drinking wine that you chose being you now have an official wine coach.”

Benedict picked up some of the cardboard containers and handed Olivia a pair of wrapped chopsticks.  “I forgot to load the motherfucking dishwasher.”

“Famous last words.”

“Bugger off.  We’ll eat in the lounge straight out of the takeout containers. I trust you’re still accustomed to that yes?”

“That’s going to be a tough one being you’re reluctant to co-mingling germs, unless you let me eat the sweet and sour pork and you eat the fried rice.”

“Fuck off.  I want some of both; so we'll pass them back and forth,” said Benedict following her into the lounge with the two beakers of oolong tea.   “Did you sugar mine?”

“Yes, _darling_.  You take two demerara sugars and no milk because it’s Chinese tea – how could I _ever_ forget how you take your bloody tea.  I've made it for you countless times!”

“No, I suppose you couldn’t.  I also recall how you take yours as well.”

“I take it black, so that’s not difficult to remember.”

“Well, I did remember that, and thank you for making my tea properly.”

“Ah…this is just like the old days…such good times!” laughed Olivia, flopping down on the couch as they arranged the containers on the coffee table.  She pushed one of the plum sauce containers towards him.  “This one is yours – it’s the germ-free one.”

 

***************************************************

 

Giada DeLaurentiis sat at the kitchen table in Donna’s brownstone sipping black Lipton decaf tea and nibbling on a slice of dry white toast.

“What do you think your stomach is up to having tonight?” Donna inquired, sitting across from her friend.  “I could make you some pastina without butter if you’re feeling adventurous.”

Giada wrinkled her nose in distaste as she pushed away the toast. “Ugh!  I’ll pass on the pastina if I can’t have butter and parmigiano reggiano on it.  I think I’m ready to try some real food tonight.  I’m sick of dry toast, rice, applesauce and bananas.”

“How does a baked chicken breast with a baked potato sound?”

“That sounds heavenly.  Thank you for taking such good care of me this week, Donna.  I have no idea where I could have caught this damn stomach virus from.”

“Steve did say it was going around when he came up to check on you.”

“I was lucky that there literally was a doctor in the house,” laughed Giada. “I bet you’ll be glad to get back to London and away from germ-infested New York.  I know I’ll be happy to return to LA to Todd and Jade!”

“Carly reports there’s been an early outbreak of flu in London.  Our neighbor, Andrew and his partner both are down with it.”

“I hope you thought to get a flu shot.”

“I get one every year.  As a matter of fact, I just had mine before I came home for Thanksgiving at Steve’s urging.”

Giada pulled the plate back towards her and took a tiny bite of the toast.  “I’m so happy you finally got your Visa renewed!”

“Thank God, Uncle Angelo was able to pull some strings,” smiled Donna.  “I can’t wait to get back to London and continue with our wedding plans.”

“You did get a lot accomplished while you were here.”

“True.  As a matter of fact, I had my final fitting at Vera Wang’s while you were sleeping in this morning.”

“How does it look?”

“Gorgeous!  They did a great job on the hem, and the new bra cups fit perfectly.  It looks so beautiful with the veil and shoes.  Mom and Nona got all teary-eyed when I came out in it.  Then I started crying as well!” 

“It’s too bad Wanda had to miss out on seeing your completed outfit.”

“She didn’t.  Nona took pictures and Mom took a video with her camera phone and emailed it to Wanda on the spot.  She immediately emailed back that I looked smashing and that Benedict will be over the moon on our wedding day when he sees me."

“Have you given any thought as to how you’re going to wear your hair?”

“We talked about that during the final fitting.  I decided to wear my hair up in a chignon so the back of the gown won’t be hidden by my hair.  Vera suggested a comb trimmed with some of the leftover lace and some tiny faux silk flowers to hold the veil in place during the ceremony.  Afterwards, I can remove the veil and keep the comb in place.  I’ll show it to you when we go back upstairs.”

“How are you going to get everything home?”

“Vera is shipping everything to London. I’ll have it early next week.  Oh, Giada!  I’m so excited!  I can’t believe this is really happening!”

“Don’t forget the time-honored tradition of something old, something new, something borrowed and something blue.”

“No. I haven’t forgotten that.  It’s just a silly superstition though.”

“That everyone still takes very seriously. They’re supposed to be good luck tokens.”

“Wanda reminded me that in the UK they also add a sixpence in your shoe.”

“I’d like to take care of the something borrowed and old requirement.”

Donna raised her eyebrows at her friend.  “How so?”

“My Nona, as you know was a film star in her own right,” began Giada.  “She and my Grandpa were attending Hollywood premieres and events all the time.”

_I wonder where this is going.  It’s no surprise that Dino DeLaurentiis and his wife, Slyvana, were a fixture on red carpets back in the day._

“After Nona passed away, my mother showed me this fabulous full-length hooded, white cashmere cape, trimmed in white fox.  It even has a white fox muff made to keep your hands warm. I’ve got photos of Nona wearing it to one of Grandpa’s films on the red carpet. She looked so glamorous in it. Mom explained that it was intended for me to wear as a cover up at my wedding when the time came. Unfortunately, being I got married in the summer, I didn’t get to wear it.”

“Awww…that’s too bad.  I bet it's beautiful.”

“Oh, it is!  It’s so glamorous and so old-Hollywood!  Anyway, the whole point of this is being you’re getting married in December; I’d love to lend it to you, Donna.  You can wear it getting into and out of the car and for any outdoor photographs.  What do you think?”

Donna got up and rounded the table to hug her friend.  “I would be honored to borrow your Nona’s cape, and I promise to take good care of it.”

“Buona!  Now, there’s one other thing.”

“Gosh, Giada, what more is there?”

“Well, it has to do with cake.”

 

***************************************************

 

“Here we are!  Two hot-buttered rums.  I hope you find it to your liking,” announced Benedict, handing a glass mug to Olivia, who sat curled up on the couch with her feet tucked underneath her.

Olivia blew on the surface in order to cool it and took a tentative sip.  She smacked her lips as a sign of approval.  “Oh, my God!  This is brilliant!  You’re as heavy –handed with the rum as your dad is. Tim would be right proud of you, Ben.”

“Dad would be appalled had I skimped on the liquor.  He believes in being more than generous when mixing a drink.”

“And you’re a credit to him.”

“It’s not too strong is it?  Be honest now.”

“Fuck no!  I hate it when they dilute the rum with too much water.”

“I didn’t use _any_ water,” snickered Benedict.

“Well done, Ben! What else is in this?”

“Some brown sugar, lots of butter, honey, cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, and salt.   I made a batter out of it and added the rum.  A _lot_ of rum.” 

“I’ll take a properly made after dinner drink over dessert any day of the week,” declared Olivia.

“I rather like having both,” giggled Benedict.

“That’s because you’re such a tart for sweets.”

“I believe that’s been established.” Benedict looked at her as he sat beside her on the couch and tucked his legs underneath him.  “I think I’m a bit tipsy.”

Olivia picked up the empty bottle of wine from the coffee table and waved it at him.  “I’d say we both are.  Maybe it’s a sign that we’re getting old and can’t hold our liquor anymore.  What a pity that would be yes?”

“That’s bullshit, if you don’t mind my saying so.  I forgot to eat lunch so I started drinking on an empty stomach.  I didn’t drink enough water, so I’m going to feel it in the morning.”

“Roger and I had brunch, so I guess my stomach was empty as well.”

Benedict looked at her with narrowed eyes. “Isn’t Roger going to wonder what’s become of you?”

“Nope.  He’s on his way to a stag do in Scotland.  He should be there by now.”

Benedict picked up a paper plate full of pound cake chunks and offered it to Olivia.  “Cake?”

“Yes, please.  She used her chopsticks to pick up a square of cake and dipped it into the melted chocolate and raspberry sauce Benedict had set on the coffee table.  “Oh, this was a genius idea!”

“Thank God! I was worried it wasn’t good.  I just spooned some raspberry jam into the chocolate sauce and hoped for the best.”

Olivia paused with her next bite in midair.  “It’s really good.  Here.”  She automatically held the chopsticks out to Benedict, who automatically opened his mouth to accept the morsel.

“Mmmm…Yeah.  That’s spot on.  I do excel at pudding improvisation,” he giggled.  “That was a pretty meager piece though.”

“Wait.  I can do better!”  Olivia bent over and plucked two chunks of cake with her fingertips which she dunked and placed into Benedict’s mouth.

“Mmmm,” he mumbled around a mouthful of cake as he watched her lick the melted chocolate off her fingers. “Much better.”

 “You’ve got sauce on your mouth!” she giggled.

Benedict swallowed and burped loudly.  “Christ!  How inelegant was that?”

“You said it, Mate!” Olivia laughed.

“It happens all the time as you well know.”

“Yes, I do know. You excel at burping and farting.  No one can fart on cue like you can, though I wonder how much in demand actors who fart on cue are.”

“Piss off! I wasn’t referring to that.  I meant the fucking chocolate.  Where is it?  I can’t see it.”

“I was just having a go at you, Ben!  Don’t get so stropy.”

“I’m not stropy. I’m…”

“Touchy as shit.  Now, shut up and let me get that chocolate for you,” Olivia glanced about she looked around for a paper serviette, but they had used them all up.  “Did you intend for us to wipe our mouths on our sleeves yes?”

“Motherfucker.  I forgot to bring in clean serviettes.”

“No worries, Ben.  I know just how to take care of that.”

Olivia moved closer so she could remove the sauce from the corner of his mouth with her thumb. Benedict watched as she licked the chocolate from her finger. Her hair had been piled in a messy bun right before they had eaten dinner and was now slowly becoming undone.

“Damn hair never stays put!” she groaned, patting down the loose ends.  “I’m hopeless when it comes to doing it up.”

_Au contraire. She looks so fucking sexy in this lighting, I can scarcely keep my eyes off of her._

“Hold still. I know just how to take care of that.” Benedict reached out and removed the pins from her hair.   “Ah, that’s much better.”

Olivia’s blonde hair fell to her shoulders, and he caught himself reaching out to touch it. Benedict pulled back his hand as if it had been burned, but Olivia took it and kissed the back of his hand, allowing her lips to linger.  The pair gazed into each other’s eyes and soon found themselves leaning dangerously close to each other.  Their lips were within millimeters of touching.  Her breath was a heady mix of rum, chocolate and tobacco from the cigarette she had smoked after dinner on the roof terrace.

“What are we doing?” Benedict whispered as her lips were about to come into contact with his.

“We’re going to see if you’re still a good snogger,” she replied in a husky voice.  “Think of this as research, Benedict.”

“Well, then.  I would never want to stand accused of getting in the way of research...especially such worthwhile and pleasurable research.”

"I'm all for any research that gives me pleasure...and for the fingers or tongue that can provide it.  My clit is throbbing you know."

"No.  I don't know; but I can vouch for my dick which is also throbbing and needing to be touched...or sucked."

_I want her to deep throat me so bad right now...or let me tea bag her.  I need to open this fucking zipper._

_My knickers are feeling damp...he's the only man who could ever make me squirt when I came.  I need some relief._

Benedict smiled wickedly at Olivia as their lips lightly touched at first, which suddenly ignited a long-buried passion between them. 

“I hope I still live up to your expectations,” he said in a low seductive voice as he deepened the kiss.  “How am I doing?”

_How is he doing?  I want to mount and ride him until he’s shouting my name like he used to. I want to take that hand of his and shove it down the front of my knickers so he can fondle my clit and feel how wet I am.  I can just feel his fingers circling it like he used to and gently teasing it while I press against him until I come so hard..._

“So far, so good,” Olivia whispered, grabbing him by the back of the head and threading her fingers through his auburn curls until he moaned loudly with pleasure.  “But we need to do more research.  Are you up to it?”

_Oh, how Ben loves having his scalp massaged. He's getting stiff right on cue.  I can see the bulge in his jeans.  Hmmm...I do believe he just stroked himself...yep.  He did it again.  He still wants me, and I still want him so very, very badly.  The sex between us was always so awesome...except when he would come too soon.  I wonder if he has learnt to last longer by now?_

_Ahhhhhhhh....my hair...she knows just what to do to get me going...no...I'm already too far gone.  Fuck fidelity!  I need a good hard fuck right now._

Benedict Cumberbatch felt his cock stiffening even more inside his jeans as their tongues mingled and they continued to kiss.  “Yes, I believe I am,” he murmured.

 

 

 

 

 

 

   

 

 

 

 

  
 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. In this universe Olivia is with the fictional actor, Roger, as at the time I began writing this story, she hadn't publicized if/who she was dating post Benedict. Eventually, I'll bring in her real-life husband. 
> 
> 2\. I wanted to explore the past relationship between Olivia and Benedict more in-depth, so this is my version. There will be more in the Mark Chaplin wedding chapter when Donna and Olivia finally meet face-to-face.
> 
> 3\. I have no idea if Nescafe Black Gold is any good or not, as I'm not a coffee drinker.
> 
> 4\. The details of Timothy's commercial deal and the filming are completely fictional, I have no idea how that works.
> 
> 5\. A while back, I had read a tweet by one of the real Benedict's acquaintances that he really did decorate his roof terrace and had one of those mechanical reindeers. I don't recall who it was; but I ran with the idea. 
> 
> 6\. Next week will be the last chapter I'll be posting this year due to the holidays.


	151. Chapter 151

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of Benedict’s night with Olivia. Neil and Donna have a talk. Wanda and Timothy have dinner with their son. Donna returns to London. 
> 
> Note: I’ll be using *************** for things happening at the same time.

 

 

“How am I doing?” Benedict Cumberbatch asked Olivia Poulet in a husky voice, as soon as he broke the deep kiss they had shared. He felt light-headed and was practically panting.

“You haven’t lost your touch by any means,” she whispered, resting her forehead against his.  “And now we need to see if I’ve lost mine.”

Benedict felt her fingers begin to massage his hair follicles as she parted his lips with her tongue.  The gentle tugging was cause ripples of pleasure in his groin area. When they finally came up for air, his chin and lips were wet with their shared saliva, which was the result of their intense French kissing. 

_Ahhhhh…this is sheer nirvana.  Donna really knows how to bring the fine art of scalp massage to a whole new level.  I feel so fucking good right now... usually she rubs my dick at the same time for maximum affect, but it doesn’t seem necessary this time.  I’m so damn stiff, I can barely stand it!  
_

As he inhaled deeply, Benedict’s nostrils were filled with the familiar whiff of Jo Malone cologne. _  
_

_Wait.  This isn’t Donna’s perfume.   This is Olivia’s perfume, and I shouldn’t be with her!  
_

Benedict yelped as he felt a jolt of pain caused by Olivia’s tugging his hair the wrong way.   His eyes snapped opened, but there was no sign of Olivia.  Benedict found himself lying on his back in his bed, staring up at his bedroom ceiling. The pleated window shade hadn’t been completely rolled down, thus allowing bright sunlight to stream in through the gap in between the window sill and the shade, hitting him directly in the eyes.

_It appears to be morning. How in the hell did I get in here?  I was just on the couch snogging Olivia, wasn’t I?_

Benedict moved his left hand in order to wipe the crusted sleep out of his eyes when a familiar jolt of pain coursed through his scalp causing him to grimace as he inhaled sharply.  He moved his hand again and was rewarded with more pain. 

“Motherfucker!” Benedict roared out loud, as he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror that was mounted on the back of the closed bedroom door.

_I went to bed with my fucking watch still on, and my hair is caught in it!  For fucks sake! I’m such a tit!  Why in the hell did I do that?  I always remove my watch before going to bed.  I really must have been off my face last night, as I don’t recall getting here. Crikey! My head feels like it's going to explode or possibly implode.  
_

Benedict gently and carefully untangled his hair from the stainless steel watch band and removed it.

_I’ve got to get rid of this old watch that Tracy and Derrick gave me when I graduated from Uni. I much prefer leather bands.  For fucks sake, my face still feels wet from the copious amount of saliva I’ve still got smeared all over the bottom half of my face._

He leaned over to grab a wad of tissues and noticed the empty glass mug on his night stand.  Benedict picked it up and the scent of hot-buttered rum wafted up to his nose, causing his stomach to lurch.

_Okay. I must have taken my drink in here to finish off as a tipple. I feel more than a bit hungover._

He carefully wiped the saliva off his chin and mouth and grimaced as he tossed the soiled tissues towards the waste bin and missed.

_This isn’t the aftermath of a hot make out session.  I was drooling in my sleep like a babe again, and my hard-on is only morning wood. That had to have been a dream…but it was so fucking realistic. I know damn well that I met Olivia in the garden center and she helped me back here with my purchases.  She even stayed and helped me decorate the roof terrace.  Then we ordered in Chinese takeaway and polished off a bottle of wine and these hot-buttered rum drinks.  I definitely remember us bickering and laughing as well.  We were both pleasantly tipsy when we kissed. I remember starting to feel aroused as Liv was pulling my hair…or was she?_

Benedict lifted the covers and examined the state of his bed as his erection slowly began to subside. He smelled the sheets and the pillows but could only detect his own scents. It was obvious that he was the only one who had slept in it.  Benedict tossed off the duvet to find himself wearing only his pants.  The remainder of his clothing had been discarded on the floor instead of onto the chair as was his usual habit.  The air in the room felt warm as it hit his bare skin, and he felt himself reach his flaccid state.  He yawned and padded over to the radiator so as to feel it. 

_No wonder it’s so nice and toasty in here. The heat’s running full force. I need to get in the shower and brush my teeth.  My mouth feels like cotton, and I can’t tolerate that sour taste.  However, I need to ring up Liv first and ask her what happened last night.  It’s probably still on the early side for her; so maybe I’ll text her instead so she won't feel obligated to answer my call.  Perhaps she’ll meet me for a coffee later, and I can ask her exactly what happened between us last night.  
_

His mobile was charging on his dresser as it usually was; but he didn’t recall plugging it in.  Benedict checked to see that it was fully charged and saw that he had received a message from his mother at eight o’clock that morning:

 

Are you free tonight?  We’d love it if you would come around for dinner.  I’m making sauerbraten.  W

_Sauerbraten!  Mum hasn’t made that in an age.  I’m definitely up to a plate of that with her potato dumplings and bacon braised red cabbage._

Yes.  I’ll be there with bells on.  ;-D  Just let me know what time I’m expected.    B

Benedict was surprised when his mother responded almost immediately.

Splendid!  I’d like it better if you were to forego the bells and show up with a pudding instead.  Sauerbraten takes most of the day to prepare.  W

I’ll leave the bells at home then and bring an apple strudel.  B

We’re out of ice cream, so we’ll have to eat the strudel plain.  W

I got the hint. I’ll stop and get some to go with it.  Do you fancy vanilla, rum raisin or cinnamon?  B

Cinnamon would go brilliantly with it. Thank you.  W

What time?  B

How about trying for six?  W

How about half six?  B

You’re lucky sauerbraten holds well in the oven. See you hopefully before seven.  W

 

_Oh, Mum knows me well._

Benedict chuckled and sat down cross legged on his bed as he began to text Olivia:

 

Morning. B

Benedict was pleasantly surprised when Olivia also responded immediately.

_Bloody hell!  Is everyone sitting around waiting for texts today?_

Try afternoon. O

Benedict crossed the room and turned his bedside clock to face him. He was stunned to see that it was afternoon already.   

 _Jesus Christ!  It’s half two!  I hadn’t realized it was this late._  

He sat rubbing the back of his neck furiously as he pondered what to type next when Olivia sent another text.

Did you sleep well?  O _  
_

Yeah.  I think so.  You?  B

Not bad all things considered.  O

_Do I want to know what she means?  Yes, I think I do._

What sort of things? B

Oh, just the usual things that you do in your sleep.  O

_Fuck me!  Something did happen last night. Oh, no!  How could I have cheated on Donna?  I don’t love anymore Liv in the same way  – it’s Donna who I have romantic feelings for and want to be with.  Maybe I did it out of loneliness or an alcohol-fueled desire to recapture the past one last time?_

We really need to talk about last night, Liv.  I was a bit pissed and don’t recall much towards the end of the evening.  B

Okay. I remember it all with great clarity.  I’d be happy to fill you in.  O _  
_

_She would, bless her._

Have you eaten?  B

I was just about to make myself something when I got your text.  O

Let’s have a late lunch then.  Some place not too far from Hampstead.  Where would you fancy meeting up?  Gail’s?  The Coffee Cup?  Ginger and White?   I have to shower first, so figure me in an hour or so.  B

How about we meet in your kitchen?  You’ll find me sitting at your breakfast bar with a properly brewed coffee having a read of the paper.  O

For fucks sake!  Why didn’t you just say you were still here in the first place?  B

Because this was much too fun!  LOL!  Hurry up in the shower you dork, and I’ll make you a toasted cheese sarnie!  O

 

*****************************************************

 

 Timothy Carlton returned home from filming his Nescafe advert to find his wife in the lounge, typing furiously on their computer. 

“Field Agent Carlton reporting for duty, Commander,” announced Timothy with a mock salute. “I’ve completed my coffee shilling mission to the complete satisfaction of the director.”

Wanda swiveled in her chair to face him as he crossed the lounge to the desk.  “Well done!  I’m looking forward to seeing it.  Will I have to wait long?”

“Not long at all. It’ll be airing in the next two weeks during the watershed hour.”

“How was the coffee? Did you find it as awful as you anticipated?”

“I nailed it on the sixth take, so I didn’t have enough time to get thoroughly sick of it.  Actually, it was quite good as far as an instant goes.”

“Well then, I’ll certainly make a note on my grocery list to buy us a jar to keep on hand.”

“There’s no need, part of the deal is that they’re sending us over a dozen jars.”

“We’ve been truly blessed,” laughed Wanda, as Timothy leaned over to kiss her. 

“Something smells good.”

“That something you smell is sauerbraten.  I thought it would hit the spot on a cold night.”

“Will there also be red cabbage with bacon and potato dumplings?”

“Yes, there will; so I hope you have an appetite.”

“I do; so I hope we’re eating on the early side.”

“Well, that all depends.”

Timothy regarded her with a raised eyebrow.  “Depends on what or should I say whom?”

“I’ve invited Ben over to join us.”

“Has he accepted?”

“Yes.  He’s bringing apple strudel and cinnamon ice cream for pudding.”

“Brilliant!  It’s a good thing you made sauerbraten then.  It keeps well.”

“I can’t wait to show Benedict the design I came up with for the engagement party invites.”

“So that’s what you’ve been working on so diligently ever since I left the flat this morning.”

Wanda nodded.  “It’s amazing what one can do with these e-mail invites.  I think it looks every bit as fancy as if it were an actual paper one.”

“We’re emailing them?”

“Obviously.”

“Sorry, Pet, but it’s not obvious to me.  You could just as well have printed them out.”

“That would require me to buy, address and post the envelopes. The party is in two weeks,Tim; so you can see how time is of the essence. I need everyone to RSVP in a hurry. It’ll take too long to use standard mail.”

“I see.  That is an excellent point you make.  Can I see the fruit of your labour then?”

“Of course!  I’d love your input,” replied Wanda as she moved the mouse and clicked on a file.  “Here it is!”  She announced with pride.

Timothy reached into the inner pocket of his sports jacket and put on his reading glasses as he leaned over Wanda’s shoulder to inspect the invitation his wife had designed.  The header featured two red and fuchsia love birds sitting on phone wires in a light blue cloud with little hearts in between them.  Underneath in fancy black lettering were the words:  They’re Engaged!

“The little hearts represent feelings of love,” said Wanda.

“I never would have guessed.  Thank you for pointing that out to me, Commander.”   Timothy began to read the text out loud:

 

**They’re Engaged!**

**Join us as we honour Benedict and Donna**

**With an engagement party:**

**Saturday, the nineteenth of December, at 8:00 PM**

**The Garrick Club**

**15 Garrick Street**

**London WC2E 9AY**

**Hosted by:  Timothy and Wanda Cumberbatch**

**RSVP:  +44 20 3616 6378 by fifteenth December**

 

 

Timothy smiled and nodded approvingly.  “I think it looks smashing, Love!  Well done you!”

“I’m chuffed you approve.”

“Let’s just hope the happy couple approves.”

“I have every confidence that Ben will be over the moon.”

“And I have every confidence that Donna will not be,” said Timothy.

“That’s why we’re going to leave it to Ben to break the news to her.”

“I like that plan, Commander.  You’re a clever one.”

"I'm more like the sneaky one."

"I didn't want to use the word sneaky, but being you did...aren't you just?  Hahaha!"

“Do you think I should go ahead and do a blast email now or wait until Ben has a chance to run it past Donna, and we have their official approval at least?”

“I say email them now.  As much as I’m not looking forward to seeing them again so soon, Neil and Toni need time to book their flights.  Not to mention that we’ve already made the booking and put down a sizeable deposit.  The menu’s been sorted and the cake ordered.  I don’t see why the need to wait.  This is a fait accompli as far as I’m concerned.”

Wanda’s hand hovered hesitantly over the mouse.  “You’re right of course.”

Timothy cupped his hand behind his ear.  “Could you repeat that please?  I do love the sound of those words.”

“Bloody hell!  You’re right, Tim!  Are you happy now?”

“Ecstatic!  I’m totes over the moon. Now, whilst you’re doing your blasted email…”

“It’s called a blast email.”

“Yes, of course.  I stand corrected and bow to your vast wealth of computer knowledge. An email _blast_ it is then.”

“May I remind you once again that I placed at the top of my computer science class,” boasted Wanda with a grin, as she indicated the framed certificate of completion that hung on the wall over the desk.

“That computer course was worth every penny we spent on it.  You are a true credit to your teacher, Wanda.”

Wanda cupped her ear and smiled at her husband.  “What was that?”

“You’re brilliant when it comes to all things concerning the computer.”

“Thank you.”

“Now, if you don’t need me; I’m going to have a short kip whilst you’re blast emailing our invites.”

 

*************************************************

 

Benedict had entered his lounge to find Olivia sitting exactly where she said she would be, wearing one of his dressing gowns and drinking coffee from a beaker and reading the paper.   As he got closer, he could see that her hair had been freshly washed and dried and she smelled of his bamboo and lemongrass soap and shampoo.

_Someone’s been using my shower and my dressing gown. My light cotton dressing gown that looks almost transparent with the sunlight streaming in through the window.  He could see that she was wearing a bra and knickers underneath. She shifted on the stool and the dressing gown fell open to reveal an expanse of bare leg._

“Erm…good afternoon,” he said shyly, making his way into his tiny kitchen. 

_Why do I feel suddenly awkward?  I’ve been around Olivia when she was wearing a lot less than that. It’s because I’m not supposed to be around her in this state of undress._

Olivia closed the paper and looked him over.  He was clad in old worn jeans, a dingy white t-shirt, black and white owl socks and his ancient navy blue corduroy slippers.  She wrinkled her nose in distaste at him.

_I can’t believe Ben still has those jeans with the ripped knees!   He’s had them since we were at Uni together. And look at that dingy t-shirt!  I guess he still doesn’t believe in bleaching his whites, bless him.  
_

“Something not meet with your approval?” he asked, looking down at himself.

“I see Wanda’s still buying you owl socks,” Olivia giggled.

“Yep.  It’s still a running joke between us,” affirmed Benedict.  “Every Christmas and every birthday I can count on receiving a pair of owl socks.  Hell, Donna’s even gotten in on the act – much to Mum’s annoyance.  She likes to think the owl socks are a joke just between us.”

“I think you’ve had those slippers since we first met.”

Benedict nodded as he popped three aspirin into his mouth and chased it down with the glass of water that Olivia had left out on the counter along with the aspirin bottle. 

“I’ve had them longer than that.  The toe box is starting to wear through unfortunately.  I don’t know what I’m going to do if my toes start to poke through.”

_You’ll do nothing.  You’ll wear the bloody things until they totally fall apart, Ben._

“You could always buy a new pair.”

Benedict waved her away with a dismissive gesture.  “Perish the thought, woman.  These slippers still have some good years left in them.  Now, you did say something about toasted cheese sarnies yes?”

“I did.  As promised, I made us sarnies with the mature cheddar and mango chutney you had stashed in the fridge.  If you’ll be kind enough to take them out of the oven, we can finally eat as I’m well beyond peckish.”

_That means she thinks I’ve taken too long in the shower.  Hmmm…she put the sandwiches in the oven.  That means they will be hard as a rock._

“Yeah.  Sure,” said Benedict, grabbing an oven glove and removing the baking tray Olivia had put the sandwiches on.  He was pleasantly surprised to find that they were crisp and not hard at all.   “And it just dawned on me that there are no clean plates thanks to my slovenly ways.”

“Try having a look in your cupboard. I promise it will be worth your while.”

Benedict immediately noticed that the sink was once again empty. 

“Thank you for doing the dishes, Liv.  You didn’t have to.”

“Yes, I did; unless we were going to eat off of paper towels.  You were straight out of dishes, beakers and cutlery.”

Benedict cut the sandwiches in half on the diagonal and retrieved a bag of crisps from one of the cabinets.  He doled a generous handful onto each of the plates and put them on the breakfast bar. “What are you drinking?” he asked her.

“I think I’ll have a Diet Coke,” Olivia replied, hopping off the stool and walking around the counter into the kitchen.  “I can get it.”

Benedict opened the fridge and extracted a can, which he handed off to her.  Olivia popped open the top and poured half the contents into a tall glass, which Benedict had already filled with ice cubes.

“Thank you for remembering that I love my ice,” she laughed.

“There are some things we’ll never forget about each other,” he said, indicating the beaker that she had waiting next to his coffeemaker.  As Benedict poured coffee into it, he noticed that she had already added two cubes of demerara sugar to it. 

“You’re right.  That’s what comes from being together for over a decade.”

Benedict added some milk to his coffee and took a sip.  “Shall we tuck in at the table or shall we sit on the breakfast bar?”

“I think the table would be nice.”

Olivia picked up her plate and glass and followed Benedict back into the lounge to the eating area where he had his dining table.  She took a seat at the table, perpendicular to him so she could enjoy the view whilst they ate in companionable silence.

“This view is spectacular, Ben.  Now I can first fully appreciate it.  What I wouldn’t give to have a view like this!”

“I may be putting the flat up for sale sometime next year.  I’ll give you first dibs on it, if you’re interested.”

Olivia blinked at him.  “What fresh hell is this, Ben? I thought you were so happy here.”

“I am; but as Donna pointed out, this flat isn’t large enough to raise a family in.”

“You’ve got the spare bedroom and a loft.  Just how many kids does she want?”

Benedict smiled.  “We’ve agreed on at least two, with four as the max.  A lot will depend upon our financial situation.”

“You could manage with one kid in this flat, but it would be a rather snug fit.”

“Snug is a gross understatement.  I constantly find myself short on space; hence the reason why the spare bedroom doubles as a wardrobe and storage area.  I can’t even imagine trying to fit in another person’s things.”

_Donna has lots of clothes and shit.  Where are we going to store it all if she were to move in here permanently?  Then if we were to have a baby, that would bring in another influx of clothing and things._

“I do so love this flat, but it’s time for me to move on.  It’s paramount that we find a place to accommodate a growing family.”

“Donna’s not knocked up is she?”

“Fuck no!  We’re doing things in the correct order.  I was just thinking to the future.”

“Oh, good, because I was going to say that had she been preggers that would have gone against your traditional grain.”

“You do love tossing little digs at me.”

“I wasn’t, Ben.  Really.”  _Not this time anyway._

“Bollocks. You’re taking the piss.  I’ve been with you long enough to know when you’re having a go at my morals.”

Benedict ate some of the sandwich and fixed her with an annoyed look. 

_Donna makes a superior toasted cheese sarnie.  Liv skimps on the filling and never thinks to butter both sides of the bread._

“I’m sorry if I’ve overstepped my bounds, Ben.  It’s hard when there’s so much history between us.  We know each other so well and exactly which buttons to push in order to get a good or bad reaction.”

“Last night was a prime example yes?” mused Benedict. “The interaction between us was all very comfortable, very familiar.”

“I felt the same way and was frankly amazed just how easily we automatically fell into our old patterns.”

“Especially the bickering over nonsense pattern, which we’ve always excelled at admirably,” Benedict said with a bitter laugh.

“It’s funny how certain things trigger old feelings.”

_For the love of fuck!  I need to get this sorted out once and for all before I  explode.  Let me broach the subject straight on._

“You mean like last night when we kissed.  Liv, I am so, so sorry about that!  I never meant for things to get out of control like they did.”

“There’s no need to apologize, Benedict; because we didn’t kiss.”

Benedict’s eyes widened as the feeling of dread began to evaporate with her words.  “We didn’t?”

Olivia shook her head.  “It was a close call; but we both came to our senses and pulled back in the nick of time.”

“So, we didn’t make out; and you weren’t massaging my scalp?”

“Fuck no!  That had to have been a dream,” laughed Olivia. “We had too much to drink and started to get overwhelmed by memories of old feelings neither of us harbours any longer.  We wound up having a long talk and came to the conclusion that we still love each other and always will; but only as friends now, nothing more.”

Benedict smiled at her as the relief washed over him. “It’s true, isn’t it?”

Olivia nodded.  “I’m afraid so.  Donna satisfies all your needs and desires and Roger mine.”

“We’ve truly moved on then haven’t we?”

“Yes, and I think it’s for the better in both of our cases.  I’m with a man who seriously supports my need and desire to be a writer and actor, who doesn’t try and pressure me into marriage.  Roger accepts that I don’t want to have children just yet or at all depending on how things go with my career.  You, on the other hand have found a woman with an established career, who completely supports your ambitions and seems more than willing to nurture your needs.  I think it’s brilliant that Donna wants to give you the family you’ve been longing for.”

_Why do I think there was some thinly-veiled snark thrown in for good measure?  That wasn’t very flattering to me.  She makes me sound as if my life’s goal was to find a womb. I don’t fancy having a row with her; so I’ll just choose to ignore it._

Benedict indicated his dressing gown, which Olivia was still wearing.  “Where did you sleep then if not with me?”

“Out here on your couch.  I thought of kipping beside you, but it didn’t seem right being we’re both in relationships with others – even though it would have been purely platonic.”

“You made a remark about me doing the usual things in my sleep.”

“You left the door to your bedroom open and when I got up to use the loo, I could hear you snoring, farting and babbling in your sleep so I shut the door. Some things never change!  Hahaha!”

_To be fair, I did ask her.  Donna has remarked the same._

“A bit of our conversation is starting to come back to me, Liv.  I remember having that talk, which revolved around our past feelings and issues and how they were different now. Did I pass out?  I still can’t recall how I got into my bed.”

“You got yourself there. After we were done sorting out where we stood now, we had had a giggle over the fact that we almost snogged.  Then you got up and announced that you were beyond knackered and wandered off to bed leaving me sitting here.”

“Bloody hell!  I’m such a rubbish host.  I’m so, so sorry.  I should have called you a cab.”

“I tried, but couldn’t get one; so I raided your airing cupboard and made up the couch.”

“Jesus.  That was so cheeky of me not to offer my bed to you.  Mum would be appalled at my lack of manners. I should have been the one to kip on the couch.”

“I managed just fine, Ben. Your couch is quite comfortable. I just wish you had some sort of window coverings so the sun didn't wake me at dawn.”

“I know.  I've been meaning to go around to the shops and buy some."

_Just like the slippers.  He'll never get around to doing that. Ben does have a lazy streak about some things._

"You also seemed to have raided my wardrobe as well,” Benedict quipped, indicating the dressing gown with a raised eyebrow.

“I actually didn’t have to raid your wardrobe for this.  I took it out of the clean laundry basket. Did you really expect me to sleep in my clothes?”

“No.  I suppose not.”

“Anyway, I also borrowed one of your t-shirts along with the dressing gown.”

“I don’t see your clothes,” observed Benedict, looking about the room.

“They’re in the dryer and probably done by now.  Just for the record, I also washed the sheets, pillowcase and blanket I used.  They’ve all been returned to the airing cupboard, which is a brilliant place to store linens.”

“Thank you.  The airing cupboard keeps everything nice and warm.”  _I  also needed the space in the linen cupboard to store books._

“I see you’re still living out of your laundry baskets,” she snickered.

“Piss off.  It’s convenient.”

"It's not convenient, it's called you can't be bothered putting your things away properly."

"Piss off, and I really mean it this time!"

Olivia barked out a laugh.  "For fucks sake, Ben.  You're being rather redundant today, aren't you?"

"Fuck off, twat.  Is that any better?"

“Loads.  Just like old times.  Does Donna approve of that lovely little habit of yours?”

“Donna hasn’t realized I use the laundry basket system yet,” snorted Benedict.

“She’ll have a cow when she does.”

“I have no doubt!” laughed Benedict.

"What did she say when she saw that you're still wearing clothes back from when you were at Harrow?  I couldn't believe you still have some of that stuff!"

Benedict covered his mouth to suppress a giggle as he pulled the neckline of his t-shirt away to display his last name written in black permanent marker inside the collar.  "Oh, you mean this?"

Olivia nodded and shook with merriment. 

"Fortuitously, Donna hasn't come across any of my old school stuff yet.  I always take care when I'm going to be with her."

"You're such a wanker, Ben, bless you!  By the way, I really like the way you decorated your bedroom.  It’s so much nicer than the bedroom décor – or lack of I should say - that you had in your flat in Shepherds Bush.”

“Donna gets most of the credit.  She helped me redo it.”

“She has good taste then.  When you two find a place to settle down, you need to sit back and let her to all the decorating.”

 

*********************************************************

 

Donna Saint James locked the door to her brownstone and descended the steps to the sidewalk.  She paused to look up and took one last look at her New York home before getting into the passenger seat beside her father.

_I really love how the house looks decorated for Christmas. Maybe I can talk Benedict into doing a little something with his house – at least a seasonal wreath on his front door would be nice. Marco refuses to allow me to have any live decorations.  
_

“Well, that’s it for now,” Said Donna as she put on her seat belt, and took one last look at her house.  “How beautiful the house looks.”

“You and Carly did a fine job with the decorations.”

“Is Pierre settled back with Grandpa?”

Neil nodded.  “Yes, he’s already back in his usual routine.”

“I’m going to miss him.”

“I’m sure he misses you as well, but you can always see him on Skype.”

“Thank God for Skype!”

“I second that.  Are you sure you have everything, Muffin?” Neil asked her. 

“Yep.  I’m ready to go back to London.”  Donna sighed heavily. “Hopefully,  I’ll be able to get on one of the overnight flights this time.  Grandpa said my odds are better with an overnight flight, but you couldn’t prove that by yesterday.”

“Call me if you give up, and I’ll come and get you again.”

“I’ve decided to camp out at the airport until I can get on a flight this time.”

“You say that now; but the offer still stands.  We can always come back in the morning or you can just wait until next week and fly back as originally planned.”

“I suppose you’ve got a point there.  I thought flying standby would be so easy; but I was wrong.  I spent the whole day at the airport yesterday and nothing opened up!  I need to get on one of those flights!  I can’t believe how many people fly this time of year!”

“It’s the holidays and everyone wants to be home to celebrate with their families.”

“Unlike me, who’s leaving mine.”

"It's not as if we're going to be home for the holidays, Muffin," Neil reminded her gently.

Neil shifted into drive and eased the pearl white Lexus SUV away from the curb and onto East 65th Street.  It was early afternoon, and they were once again headed to JFK Airport so Donna could try and fly standby on an overnight flight to London. 

“The expression on your face doesn’t have me one hundred percent convinced that you’re looking forward to going back.  What’s bothering you? Are you feeling down because you won't be spending Christmas at Disney with us?"

"No...okay maybe a little bit, but I'll get over it."

"Have you and Cumberbatch not been getting along?”

“Oh, it’s nothing like that.  Everything is fine between Benedict and I.”

“Then what is it, Muffin?”

“I was just thinking that this will be the first time in my life that I’m not spending the holidays with my family.  I’ll be all alone in a strange place.”

“That’s not entirely true,” chuckled Neil.  “I wouldn’t call London a strange place by any means.  It’s a large, cosmopolitan city, steeped in history, which you’ve been living in for almost a year now.”

“You know what I mean.”

“No, Donna.  I don’t know.  How about just telling me what’s bothering you?”

“What I meant is that I’m not as familiar with it as I am with New York.”

“You were born and raised in New York, so I would hope so.”

“It will be a year since I arrived in London on the fifteenth.”

Neil headed towards the Queensboro Bridge.  “I think we should be able to get across the bridge without any headaches just yet.”

“I’ve never been away from you guys at Christmas and New Year’s.  Last year you and Mom surprised me and flew over.  This is the first time we’ve been separated. There will be no one around.  Steve requested time off, so he and Carly can go to Disney with everyone the day before Christmas Eve. I hate that they’re leaving me alone in London. Even Uncle Rodney and Aunt Bea won't be around.  They're going to Edinburgh to visit her family.”

“Umm…have you forgotten that there’s a man waiting for you in London, who loves you very much and wants to spend the rest of his life with you?”

Donna smiled.  “Of course I haven’t!  I can’t wait for us to be reunited.”

“You’re not convincing me, Muffin.  Ben’s feelings would be deeply hurt if he could hear this conversation and see your face.”

“Even though I did manage to see all the Christmas things here, it’s not going to be the same over there.”  

“How do you know that?  Didn't you go out and see what London had to offer last year?"

"No.  There was no time.  I was busy trying to get set up so I could start my job in January - there was so much that had to be done!"

"You'll have plenty of time this year, and I'm sure Cumberbatch will only be too happy to show you the Holiday sights."

"I suppose, but Benedict seems to be more focused on making wedding plans before he has to submerge himself in _Sherlock_ filming.  He's also got voice work to do before Christmas."

"You know, if he's busy; you can always go out exploring on your own."

"I guess I could."

"I thought you were the one who always craved new experiences.”

“I do.”

“Then look at it this way:  You’ve got a new city with its own unique Christmas sights to explore and a new culture whose holiday traditions you can immerse yourself in. You’re going to have to learn to adapt if you plan on marrying an Englishman and making London your home base.”

"I also just remembered that Carldonn has some small catering jobs between now and Christmas Eve.  Then we'll close between Christmas and New Year's so everyone can be well rested before the catering begins for _Dr. Who_."

"It'll do you good to be busy, Donna.  What sort of catering jobs?"

"Mostly Christmas parties for a few small offices in the buildings surrounding Paternoster Square and some private catering - like sandwich platters for local residents in the apartments."

"That'll certainly pass the time."

“How can I be feeling homesick when I’ve only been gone for half an hour, Daddy?”

“I think once you’re back in London with Cumberbatch, you’ll feel differently. Put up a tree, do your Christmas shopping and make some of Mom’s recipes and I promise the homesickness will fade.”

“Marco said I can’t have any live Christmas decorations.  I’ve always had a live tree.”

“Was it because you all killed his orchids?” laughed Neil.

“NO!  Marco doesn’t know about the orchids and hopefully, he never will.  I think he’s afraid a live tree or Christmas greenery might be a fire hazard.”

“I can see his point.  It is _his_ home after all.  Get yourself an artificial tree or decorate Benedict’s apartment.  I’m sure he’ll let you do whatever you want as long as it makes you happy, Donna.”

“I’m acting like a spoiled brat aren’t I?”

“You’re acting like a homesick, spoiled brat.  I’m sure Wanda and Tim will be including you in their holiday traditions and celebrations.  Think how happy and relieved they must be that someone finally wanted their son. I bet they’ll pull out all the stops to show you how grateful they are.”

“Stop, Daddy!”

“I was just teasing, Muffin.  It’s not as if they're scrooges.  I can see them being a very merry group during the holidays.  I bet the booze flows even more freely if that’s possible!”

Donna started to laugh. “You’re right. I can see Tim making mulled wine that would knock me on my ass in no time!  Benedict always speaks with great fondness about how they celebrate Christmas in their country home in Gloucestershire.”

“I bet it’s very picturesque out there, and you might even get some snow that you won’t get much of in London.  Now, I expect you to put on a happy face and make the best of it.”

“I promise I will, Daddy.  Thanks for the kick in the ass.”

“I’m always happy to oblige one of my children when the need for ass kicking arises.  You know, I was just thinking that if you did forget something, we can bring it over to you when we come for your engagement party, which is when?”

“I have no idea.  No one has said another word about it,” said Donna.  “I would have thought Wanda would have been going full speed ahead with it once she knew I was definitely coming back."

"They still don't know for sure.  You're not on that plane yet."

"I will be this time!  I'm not giving up!  I still find it odd that Wanda and Benedict have been both strangely silent about it.”

“How refreshing that must be for your ears,” quipped Neil.

“Not funny, Dad.”

“Maybe they changed their minds being we already gave you and Cumberbatch one.”

“No.  Wanda and Tim definitely said they wanted to throw a party to introduce me to their family and friends prior to the wedding.”

“Maybe you should ask them if everything’s set.  We need to book our flights; and as you just found out – it’s not an easy task this time of year.”

“I will. Did you listen to the traffic report?”

“I was just listening to CBS, and there’s a minor slowdown on the Van Wyck; but you’ll still get to the airport with plenty of time to spare for that flight you want to get on.  At least American Airlines has plenty of shops and distractions in their terminal, though not as many as in Heathrow.”

“That’s okay.  There’s plenty to keep myself occupied, Dad.  I’ve got books to read, and I can watch movies on my laptop. I’m also going to have a nice, leisurely dinner at Bobby Van’s Steakhouse.  That way I don’t have to eat the lousy airline food.”

“Your mother and I do the same,” chuckled Neil. “They have a delicious filet Mignon bacon cheeseburger that we always order.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. I also plan to buy myself something for dessert to take on the plane.”

“Have you told Ben that you were trying to get on a flight tonight?”

“Once I know that I’ve got a seat, I’ll email him from the gate.  Imagine how surprised he’ll be if everything works out and he reads that I’m arriving tomorrow morning.” 

 

******************************************************

 

Benedict sat back in his chair and patted his lips with the paper serviette.

“That was an incredible meal, Mum. You are a brilliant cook!”

“I second that,” agreed Timothy.  “You outdid yourself, Pet.”

“Thank you for the kudos, and you both can show your appreciation by clearing the table and doing the washing up,” said Wanda with a chuckle. 

“Consider it done,” said Benedict, getting to his feet and stacking the empty dishes and cutlery to take to the sink.  “Just sit back and relax. You’ve earned it.”

“I’ll wrap up the leftovers,” volunteered Timothy.

“Be sure to use plastic containers so Ben can take it home.”

 _There goes tomorrow’s lunch,_ thought Timothy sadly. _I had designs on those leftovers!   I shouldn’t be surprised.  She always sends the leftovers home with Ben, as if he would starve without them.  
_

“I think I’ll take out the ice cream so it can soften a bit and be easier to scoop,” said Wanda.

“One of us can always scoop it for you, Mum,” offered Benedict. 

_Though I know she fancies making those little egg-shaped scoops that Donna taught her how to make.  What does Donna call them?  Oh, yes - quenelles and they take a lot of patience to get just right._

“It’s nice that we were able to get together and have dinner together,” declared Timothy.  “We need to do it more often.”

“Absolutely,” agreed Benedict, as he rinsed off the dishes and loaded them into the dishwasher.  He noticed Wanda was watching him in fascination.

_What am I doing wrong?  Mum looks perplexed with the way I’m arranging her dishes.  Why?_

Benedict was rinsing off the cutlery when it dawned on him why his mother was paying so much attention to his actions.

_Bloody hell!  I’m now rinsing off the dirty dishes just like Donna and Antonia do instead of loading them straight in.  No wonder Mum’s giving me such an odd look. I need to stop doing this!  
_

Benedict cleared his throat. “It was a treat to sit down and have a delicious meal and proper catch up with you both.  We haven’t had any real time alone since…Christ, I can’t even remember the last time.”

“I do,” said Timothy.  “It was on Thanksgiving morning, in the Saint Jameses five-star guest bedroom in New York City.”

“That was a rather nice guest room,” observed Benedict wryly.  “It had all the comforts of home and then some from what I could see.”

Wanda nodded.  “Oh, it did!  I could be quite content spending the rest of my days in that room, except for the times when they would listen in on our conversations.”

“That was us, Wanda.  We were the ones caught listening from behind the screen,” Timothy reminded her as he stashed the containers in the refrigerator.

“Talk about your mortifying moments,” sighed Benedict.

Timothy brought the serving dishes over to the sink.  He stopped and stared as his son immediately rinsed them off.

_Why is my son rinsing all the motherfucking dishes before he loads them into the bloody dishwasher?  Is that not the dishwasher’s job to take care of that?  He’s wasting water with that bizarre extra step.  Wait.  Where have I seen that before?  Oh, yes!  Toni does that, which means Donna does it and Ben picked up on it.  Hells bells._

Benedict added the liquid detergent and turned on the machine.  “I couldn’t fit your covered casserole dish in, so I’ll wash it by hand, Mum.” 

“Thank you, Darling; and just for the record, you’re wrong, Tim.  I caught both Toni and Neil sneaking around trying to catch snippets of our conversations,” said Wanda.

“They were trying to be quiet as they didn’t want to wake us is all,” scoffed Timothy.  “We offer each other the same courtesy here – oh, wait, we don’t.  You’ve always been fond of hoovering the place with our bedroom door stood wide open.”

Benedict scrubbed and rinsed the casserole dish. “I do believe that’s Mum’s cheeky way of letting us know that it’s time to get up.”  He crinkled his nose and smiled at her.

“Not at bloody four in the morning it isn’t!” disagreed Timothy.

“Hells bells!  You two are incorrigible!  I still think they did their share of eavesdropping whilst we were there.”

“We’ll have to agree to disagree on that, Pet.  I don’t think they gave a toss as to what we were talking about at any given time.”

“Such a pity the door to their guestroom didn’t have one of those peep holes installed in it like they have in hotel room doors,” giggled Benedict.  “Remember that time we were all staying at the Blackberry Bramble Inn?  I know you must have been watching what was going on out in the hallway.”

“One of your mother’s favourite pastimes when we’re staying in a hotel is to peer out the peephole to see what’s going on out in the hallway.”

“Which isn’t all that much most of the time,” laughed Benedict, rinsing and drying the dish. 

_Now I know where I get my love of peering out the peephole from.  I come from it honestly. Donna’s every bit as bad as I am when it comes to that.  
_

“Hmmm…I beg to differ.  There was an awful lot going on out in the hallway of the Blackberry Bramble Inn that night!”  snickered Wanda.

Benedict’s face reddened slightly.  _What a debacle that was!  I’m sure the other guests were quite entertained by our antics.  Donna got locked out of our room in that skimpy robe.  Then they all had the row when Donna was so certain that Mum and Dad were lovers having an illicit tryst right under my nose. Now, that was quite the case of mistaken identity!  
_

“Perhaps I’ll ask them to install one prior to your next visit,” teased Benedict, as he put the casserole dish back in the cupboard next to the stove.

“There’s not going to be a next time,” stated Timothy. 

Benedict’s face wore a puzzled expression.  “What exactly do you mean?”

“Your father’s decided that he prefers staying in a hotel on our next visit.”

“Why wouldn’t you stay with Donna’s parents?  They are the ones who invited you in the first place.  I thought you enjoyed staying with them.  Am I missing something? Were they rubbish hosts or was there a row that I haven’t been told about?”

“There were no rows,” said Wanda.  “We did get on rather well, truth be told.” 

_Except for the close call in Vera Wang’s, which was partially my fault._

“All in all, I must admit that they were extremely hospitable and generous,” began Timothy.  “Both of them were forever asking what they could do to make our stay more enjoyable.”

“Toni and Neil were sure to give us a wide berth,” added Wanda.  “They went about their business and gave us the run of the place.  Every morning we came down to find breakfast ready and waiting for us.  Toni wouldn’t let me touch a thing.  It was just like being in a hotel!”

Benedict raised an eyebrow at his father.  “That didn’t sound so bad to me.  It was like being at a bed and breakfast.”

“Toni ran herself ragged seeing to our every comfort,” said Timothy.  “After a while it was over the top, and we put a stop it it – graciously, of course.”

“I learnt to make sure the beds were made before we left the room,” laughed Wanda.  “That way there was no reason for her to pop in and make them up whilst we were having breakfast downstairs. I also got up a bit earlier so I could reciprocate with making some breakfasts for them.”

“There were no rows yes?”

Wanda and Timothy looked at each other and shook their heads.

“I can’t say that there was,” confirmed Timothy.  “It was quite peaceful.”

_Neither of them needs to know about that close call Toni and I had in Vera Wang’s.  Thank God I shut my mouth and stopped with the snarky comments._

Benedict folded the tea towel and leaned back against the cabinets.  “Do either of you mind if I have a quick read of my emails?”

“Not at all,” replied Wanda.  “Do you fancy coffee or tea, Ben?”

“Tim’s brew of course,” replied Benedict with a fond smile.

Timothy opened the pantry and extracted two tins of tea.  “I’ll join you.  Wanda, do you have a preference?”

“Tea is fine. I’ll put the kettle on.”

Benedict paused in the archway leading into the lounge.  “Erm…what’s the password for your PC?”

“S-N-O-O-P1971976,” replied Timothy.

Benedict was startled as he put the letters together inside his head and came up with the word ‘snoop’.

_Snoop!  And the numbers are my birthday!  I wonder which of them came up with that snarky password._

“For fucks sake! That’s my birthday!”

“Isn’t it though,” Timothy smiled cheekily at him. 

“Which one of you came up with that?”

 Wanda and Timothy exchanged looks and began to titter.

“It was a collaboration of like minds,” replied Wanda.  “We wanted something neither of us would be likely to forget, so using our beloved child’s birthday seemed like a genius choice.”

“I’m going to pretend that I didn’t notice the snarky significance of using the word ‘snoop’ along with my date of birth.”

Timothy gave his son another cheeky smile as he measured the tea into the pot.  “As you were then, Ben.”

 

*****************************************************

 

Benedict Cumberbatch sat at the computer in his parents’ lounge clicking on various folders in mounting frustration. 

_Bloody hell!  They password protected all the motherfucking folders!  I’m going to have to find a reason to come over when they’re out so I can have more time to try and hack in properly.  Oh, well, let me check my emails like I said I was going to do.  
_

The first email was from Donna, and was entitled: “On My Way Home!”

_What’s this?  Donna’s not due home for a couple of more days._

His stomach filled with butterflies as he quickly opened the email and read it:

 

**Hi Honey!  I’ve got a surprise for you!  
**

**I’m finally coming home to you!   I’m at JFK waiting to board my American Airlines flight to London.  I didn’t want to wait until next week and decided to try flying standby. Grandpa suggested trying an overnight flight, and it worked!  
**

**I’ve already been ticketed and am going to check out the stores before I have to board.  I’ll be arriving first thing in the morning.  I know it’s early, so if you can’t pick me up; I’ll just hop on the Heathrow Express and get a cab home at Paddington.  
**

**Here are the details:  
**

**American Airlines Flight 100 Arrives Terminal 3 at 06:20am.  
**

**If this is too early for you, I understand completely.  Please text me, and I’ll check my messages as soon as we land.  
**

**I love and miss you!  Can’t wait to feel your arms around me again!  
**

**Donna xoxoxoxoxo**

 

“BRILLIANT!” shouted Benedict. _  
_

_Donna’s coming home earlier than expected!  This is fucking fantastic news!_

Benedict checked the time difference and went to American Airline’s flight tracker. 

 _According to the website, her flight is scheduled to take off on time so far. She gets in at six twenty, which would entail getting my arse out of bed at six.  It’ll take her an hour all told to deplane, go to baggage reclaim to collect her luggage and then pass thru immigration and customs.  If I leave my flat at half six, there should be little to no traffic; so I should arrive at Heathrow right around the time she’s ready to exit the terminal_.

Benedict took out his mobile and sent Donna a text message:

I’m so over the moon that you’re on your way back to me!  Text me once you’ve collected your luggage; and I’ll be outside of Terminal 3 waiting.  All my love, Bx **  
**

 

“Is everything alright, Ben?” inquired Timothy from behind him. 

“Yes, fine. Everything couldn’t be better in fact. Why do you ask?”

“You were being awfully shouty a minute ago.  You startled us when we heard you yell.”

Benedict grinned.  “I’m sorry.  I was just reacting to an email.”

“Care to clue me in or is it private in nature?”

“No.  Not at all.  I was going to tell you both over pudding.  Donna’s sent me an email saying that she’s booked a standby seat on an overnight flight; and will be arriving at Heathrow first thing tomorrow morning.”

“Is everything alright, Tim?” called out Wanda worriedly from the kitchen.

“That’s splendid news indeed,” said Timothy, turning back towards the kitchen in order to respond to Wanda.  “Ben’s just got news that Donna’s booked standby on a flight that arrives in the morning.”

“Oh, that is wonderful news!” came Wanda’s voice. “I think a small sherry is in order, Tim.  This is something to celebrate.”

“Aye, Commander.  I’ll get the glasses,” said Timothy with a mock salute.

“I’m so over the moon, Dad.”

“I would think so.”

“Kettle’s boiled and the strudel’s been plated,” called out Wanda. 

“We’ll be in straight away,” called back Timothy, pulling out three cordial glasses from Wanda’s china cabinet and handing them to Benedict.  “You go through.  Nature calls at the dam nest times.”

 

*************************************************

 

Wanda finished pouring the tea into beakers when Benedict entered with the cordial glasses. 

“Where’s your father?”

“He’s in the loo.”

_I wonder if now would be a good time to bring up my part in the Sherlock NDA violation debacle.  Tim still doesn’t know, and hopefully never will. I’ve been on pins and needles since we returned to London waiting for Barrister Ben to question me; but I think he’s been too distracted with the wedding and his work. Thank God that Donna filled me in on what transpired._

Wanda nodded as Benedict got the bottle of sherry down from the liquor cabinet and poured some into each of the three glasses.  

“I’m so chuffed that Donna’s finally on her way back here!  Such happy news it is!” 

“Isn’t it though,” sighed Benedict happily. “Originally, she wasn’t expected until next week.”

“Well, I’m pleased as punch that she was able to get out sooner.”

“Apparently, she decided to fly standby and everything worked out just right. We can start investigating venues for our wedding breakfast as soon as she’s settled from her trip. Then once that’s been sorted, we have to start looking at houses or for a larger flat at least.”

_It’s now or never, Wanda. Get it over with._

“Ben, there’s something I’ve been wanting to discuss with you privately,” began Wanda, looking towards the archway nervously.

Benedict raised an eyebrow at her.  “Such as?”

“Donna told me that Beryl Vertue had invited you around to her flat for tea whilst we were still in New York.”

Benedict’s face suddenly clouded over as he leaned back against the counter with arms folded across his chest.

_And I’m willing to bet that’s not all Donna’s told you, Mum.  You know damn well what took place at that little afternoon tea.  I love how my mother always thinks she’s being subtle, bless her._

_Hells bells!  He’s spoiling for a row.  I know that posture well, and if he presses his lips together any tighter, I won't be able to see them._

“Yeah, she did invite me over for a cuppa,” replied Benedict, pulling at his chin.

“That was nice of her.”

“Not really.”

“No?”

“No. That wasn’t my idea of being nice or hospitable, Mum. As it turned out Steve Moffat, Mark Gatiss and Sue Vertue were also in attendance…”

_Shit!  Donna didn’t tell me that part.   She just said Beryl wasn’t happy and slapped him with a fine._

“…for the express purpose of dressing me down and imposing a twenty-five hundred pound fine on me for violation of my _Sherlock_ NDA for disclosing that Andrew Scott would be playing Moriarty and Mark Gatiss, Mycroft.”

Wanda gasped and covered her mouth.  _Twenty-five hundred quid?  That’s a sizable fine, and it’s my fault._

“Why such feigned surprise, Mum?”

“My surprise is genuine, Ben.  I had no idea the fine was that much.”

“Sadly, neither did I.  Why are you suddenly bringing this up?”

“Because I was the one responsible for this cock up,” replied Wanda.

“So I’ve been told.”

“I feel horrible about it!  I thought there was no harm in discussing it with Beryl for fucks sake!  She’s the show’s producer and you’re the star of her show. I only said it to her!  Honestly, Ben, I never even gave it a thought that there would be consequences for such an innocent conversation.”

“Now, that’s fairly obvious!” snapped Benedict, raising his voice.

“Hush!  Your father will hear you!”

“His father has already heard enough,” said Timothy, entering the kitchen.  “This time, Ben, I’m going to take your mother’s side.”

“You are?” asked Wanda in disbelief.

Benedict blinked in surprise.  “Now, that’s quite the twist.”

“It was an innocent conversation that we had with Beryl Vertue,” explained Timothy.  “We ran into her quite by accident at Paddington Station on our way to New York.  We were waiting for the next Heathrow Express, and they announced that there was going to be a bit of a delay due to a signal problem.”

_So far, their story agrees with Beryl’s._

“So, we decided we were feeling peckish; and went to the pasty stand to get a pasty and a coffee,” continued Timothy. “All of a sudden, Beryl tapped your mother on the shoulder.  She had just come from the Hilton and was stopping for a pasty before heading to the tube. Since we had time to kill and Beryl was only going to her office, we took a seat in the waiting area and Beryl kept us company.”

 _And that’s where things went terribly, terribly wrong,_ thought Benedict.

“And you decided to tell her what a brilliant casting choice Andrew was for Moriarty,” spat Benedict.  “Oh, that’s just what I didn’t need!”

“None of us _needed_ it, Ben!” exclaimed Wanda.  “It just happened!  It was such an innocent thing, really!”

“Of course it was,” snorted Benedict.  “Just like all the times you were innocently showing my photograph around London in an attempt to find me a suitable bird to marry.”

“Well, you weren’t doing anything to help yourself at the time!”  Wanda snorted derisively.

“I’m surprised you never took out a personal ad in my name and had the responses sent to my flat for inspection!”

 _Close, but not quite.  Your mother took one out in her own name_ _and did all the screening and interviewing herself with my help,_ thought Timothy.

Timothy held up his hands in order to silence them.  “Let’s not have a row over things that happened in the past, please!”

_I hope he never finds out about the plan.  
_

Benedict’s face wore a sullen expression.  “As you were, Dad.” _  
_

“It was Beryl who brought up the article in the Tribune, Ben.  She asked us if we had seen it, which of course we had,” said Timothy.  “Beryl mentioned the author was speculating about how faithful to the canon the show was going to be and if the iconic characters of Irene Adler, Mycroft and Professor Moriarty were going to show up.  Beryl said that they had some clever twists in store for the audience when it came to casting and was looking forward to the reaction. At that point, your mother simply agreed and expressed her opinion that it was a genius casting choice to have Andrew Scott play Moriarty.”

“And that’s when Beryl must have inquired as to who told you that tidbit,” said Benedict with a sneer.

Wanda nodded.  “Yes, she did; and I said you did, of course.”

“Of course. You did a right fine job of nailing me to the cross,” snapped Benedict.  “Thank you so very, _very_ much.”

“There’s no need for the snark, Benedict,” snapped Timothy.  “Even though we all know it’s paramount not to violate an NDA, it happens.  You confided in us with the unspoken proviso that we not tell another soul, which we haven’t.”

“Until Mum told the person who had the fucking NDA drawn up that I had violated it.  Well done.”

“In spite of everything, Ben, it’s only natural to want to share information with us and Donna.  We’re your parents, and Donna’s going to be your wife.  You trust us implicitly not to do anything that might put your career in jeopardy.”

“I told Adam, too.  He’s my best friend.”

Timothy rolled his eyes.  “That, you shouldn’t have done.”

“I realize that now; but he’s still my best friend and wouldn’t have told a soul.”

“Except his wife possibly,” said Timothy with a smirk.  “That’s how it happens, Ben!”

“Adam swore he didn’t tell Alice,” insisted Benedict.

“I’m sorry, Ben; but I thought it was fine for me to say that to Beryl.  It wasn’t as if I had told everyone I know which would have spread the news like wildfire.  That would have been a recipe for disaster,” said Wanda. 

“I agree with your mother. I’m also sure others involved with the show have signed NDA’s and discussed things with their loved ones that they weren’t supposed to,” added Timothy.  “Of course, we’ll never know; but I’m willing to bet they aren’t all that discrete and innocent as they would have you believe.”

“They really didn’t want to do it; but felt they had to,” said Benedict.

“And it’s understandable.  I would have done the same were I in their shoes,” remarked Timothy.

“I insist on paying you back the twenty-five hundred quid,” said Wanda.  “It was my fault, and I feel things won’t be right between us unless I do.  That comment could have cost you the role.”

Benedict sighed.  “I don’t want your money, Mum.  I’m the one who started everything in motion by opening my mouth in the first place.  Lesson learnt the hard way.”

“Let’s at least split it yes?” Wanda asked.  “I feel so guilty about it.”

“No.  I won’t accept it.”

“Alright then.  Will you accept my apology?”

Benedict walked over to Wanda and enveloped her in his arms.  “Of course, I accept your apology.  How can I be angry with you?  I know you didn’t mean to do any harm.  I love you, Mum.”  He kissed her soundly on the cheek.

“I love you, too, Benedict.”

 _If Benedict found out about the plan, he would be livid,_ thought Timothy.  _My son would find out just how angry he could be with her – with both of us._

“I propose we drink a toast to Donna’s coming home!” suggested Wanda, passing around the glasses of sherry.  “Cheers!”

“To Donna’s homecoming!” smiled Benedict as they touched glasses.

 _Now’s as good a time as any to tell him about the Garrick Club,_ thought Timothy. _Then he has all day tomorrow to break it to her._

“Yes, to Donna’s homecoming,” said Timothy Carlton, taking a sip of the sherry.  “And speaking of Donna, Ben, there’s something we have to tell you about the engagement party.  You see, there’s been a change of venue.”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Benedict was never going to cheat on Donna. He will always be faithful to her in this story. 
> 
> 2\. I have no idea how stand-by works at an airport. This is a tiny bit of fact and mostly fictional.
> 
> 3\. The Van Wyck Expressway is a notorious road leading to JFK Airport, as there always seems to be traffic on it. 
> 
> 4\. I wanted Donna to have conflicting emotions about the holidays and heading back to London and Neil to kick her in the butt.
> 
> 5\. My goal for this year is to finally marry Benedict and Donna off - and the reveal will be taking place as well. I can't believe that I am finally able to start laying the framework for it very soon. This comes from someone who's been writing this epic for almost four years. LOL! 
> 
> 6\. Happy Holidays to all my lovely readers! I'll be back on Sunday, 1/8/17.
> 
> 7\. 12/21/16: I wound up adding some dialog to the scene between Donna and her father.


	152. Chapter 152

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Donna and Benedict are reunited and have breakfast at the Duck and Waffle as they share their good news and continue to make wedding plans. . 
> 
> Note: I’ll be using *************** for things happening at the same time.

 

 

Benedict Cumberbatch and Donna Saint James got into the dedicated lift of the Heron Building that would whisk them up to the Duck and Waffle Restaurant, which resided on the fortieth floor. Benedict pressed the button and the door slid shut leaving them alone inside the glass-enclosed lift.

“Ah, alone at last!”  Benedict smiled and pulled her close to him for a tender kiss and hug.

Donna returned the kiss and hug.  “Not if you count all the people in the surrounding office buildings who can see us in this glassed-in elevator.”

“Have you left your sense of adventure in New York?”

“Of course not!  It’s just that…”

“Then pucker up and let’s give the poor working sods something juicy to discuss at the water cooler on the ride up,” he laughed, kissing her again.

The lift seemed to take off suddenly.

“Whoa!” exclaimed Donna, as they began their swift ascent.  “This is like the Tower of Terror! I’m half expecting to take a free fall once we get to the top!”

“I really hope not,” Benedict chuckled, patting her bottom. “The only thing I’d fancy seeing dropped right now are your jeans.”

“Hahaha!  I like how feisty you are in the morning.”

“If we were in your flat, I could really show you how feisty I can be.”

“I really like the sound of that more and more.  Maybe we should just go back downstairs and grab something quick at Pret a Manger; so we can explore your feistiness.”

“I thought you fancied having breakfast here?”

“I am very excited about having breakfast here!” insisted Donna.

“Well then?”

“It’s just that we need to…reconnect.”

“May I remind you how lucky I was to even get a space in a car park?  That’s quite an accomplishment during a weekday morning.”

Donna nodded .  “You’re right.  We might as well stay and celebrate your parking garage coup. Don’t you just love glass elevators?”

“Yep, but I love you more,” smiled Benedict, drawing her close for another kiss.  “God, how I missed you.”

“I’m so happy to be back home,” murmured Donna as they kissed again.

_Holy cow!  I just said I was happy to be back home.  Dad was right when he said I would feel differently once Benedict and I were reunited._

"It was so nice of you to pick me up at Heathrow."

"It was my pleasure."

The elevator came to a stop and the door slid open to reveal a wood-paneled hallway, which led to the entrance bar. 

“Well, so far the hallway is rather unimpressive,” quipped Benedict.

“Technically, we’re not inside the place yet.”

They walked down the short hallway and Benedict held open the door, leading to the bar.  There were low graphic ceilings and the bar was inside out; but it was the view from the floor-to-ceiling, wall-to-wall windows that made Donna gasp.

“Look at that view!”

“It’s quite impressive even though it’s on the dark and dreary side today.”

“Isn’t this an interesting looking bar area, Ben!” exclaimed Donna, opening her handbag and taking out her camera.

“Yeah, we’ll have to come back and have a drink here one night.” 

Donna paused to look around and take some photographs.  “Ben, could you please step to the right, you’re in the frame.”

“I didn’t realize you were on the clock.”

“I’m not officially; but since we’re here, we might as well do a review.  Eric will be thrilled. Is that alright with you?”

“Does this also mean the Tribune picks up the tab then?”

Donna nodded. “Absolutely.”

“Take all the photos you want, Love.  I’m free all day.”

After Donna finished taking her photos, she took a selfie of her and Benedict in front of the windows.  “I can’t wait to send this to everyone.”

“Good Morning!” said a short girl with close cropped white-blonde hair. 

“Good Morning!” replied Donna and Benedict in unison.

“Do you have a booking?”

Benedict looked startled and rubbed the back of his neck.  _Booking?  Why would we need a booking for half nine in the bloody morning?  Everyone should be at work in their offices by now._

“Erm…no.  We thought we’d just pop in on the chance that there might be an open table at this hour,” replied Benedict.  He crinkled his nose and smiled at her.

The girl regarded him with a blank expression. Donna looked up at Benedict and tried not to smile.  _Well, the nose crinkle and cute lopsided smile didn’t work on her._ _She also has no idea that he’s being sarcastic.  I’d also be surprised to find the place full.  
_

The girl frowned at them as if they had sinned.  “Let’s see what I can do,” she said curtly, as she crossed the room and began to speak with another greeter, who looked back at them and shrugged.  The two then disappeared into what must have been the dining room.

Benedict and Donna exchanged glances and began to giggle.

“How dare we not have a booking!” exclaimed Benedict in mock horror.

“I know.  I feel so ashamed,” giggled Donna.  “We should have thought to call before driving over to see if there was room.”

“Bloody hell!  It’s well after the morning rush, which is why I suggested we come over in the first place.”

“They don’t like drop-in diners.”

“What in the fuck could they possibly be conferring about?”

“They’re scouting the dining room for an open table,” explained Donna.  “And to make us wait – it’s like a punishment for not having a reservation, whether you need one or not.”

“I don’t believe that dining room is full at half nine in the morning.”

“Neither do I.  Don’t worry, Benedict, I have every confidence that we’ll get a table.”

“I didn’t realize you could see through walls.”

“I can’t; but you forget that I do this for a living.  They just want us to think that this is such a popular place that we’ll be lucky to get a table.  I would believe it about dinner or Sunday brunch; but not for a late breakfast on a weekday.”

The hostess returned to the podium and retrieved two menus.  “You’re in luck.  Would you like to check your coats before we go through?”

“Yes, thank you,” replied Donna, removing her coat and handing it to the hostess, who in turn gave it to one of the guys who was setting up fresh garnishes in the bar.  “I hope it’s a window table.  This is my first time here.”

“How is the temperature in the dining room?” Benedict inquired.  “Is it on the cool side?”

“Oh, no.  It’s perfect.  You won’t be cold at all,” replied the hostess.

Benedict hesitated for a few seconds and reluctantly removed his coat.  He was wearing a long-sleeved jumper over a long-sleeved shirt with a tweed wool sports jacket over that.  Donna noticed that he opted to keep his scarf around his neck. 

_My honey does love his layers, bless his little heart.  She’s right; he won’t be cold in that._

The pair followed the hostess into the dining room which had floor-to-ceiling windows, providing a wraparound view over the city.  The low, yellow ceiling appeared to be woven into a waffle-like pattern.  As Donna had suspected, the dining room was only partially full with plenty of open tables. The entire right side was empty with plenty of vacant tables for two lined up against the windows. 

“See, I told you they would be able to squeeze us in,” whispered Donna as they passed by the open kitchen where the cooks were all busy preparing food. “And all the two tops are window seats!  This is excellent!”

“Here we are!” said the hostess, stopping in front of a window side table for two that over looked the Gherkin and surrounding offices.  Donna was thrilled that the table was located right past the open kitchen, giving an unimpeded view on the goings on.

As was their habit, if there was an open kitchen, Donna always took the seat facing it.  Benedict held out the chair for her and took the seat opposite, which afforded him an expansive view of the dining room and city in the distance. 

“Thomas will be your server this morning and will be with you shortly.”  The hostess handed them their menus and disappeared.

“Wow, wow, wow!  This is a spectacular view!” remarked Benedict, looking around the room. “Are you sure you want to sit there, Darling? I’ve definitely got the better view. You’re facing the server’s station.”

“I’m also facing the kitchen. This is the perfect seat for me.  I can see everything that’s going on in the kitchen, and I can still see the Gherkin, the Shard and Tower Bridge in the distance from where I’m sitting.”

“I find it interesting that this side of the restaurant isn’t being used.  One would think that these prime window tables would be taken up,” mused Benedict.

Donna glanced around behind her.  “Perhaps they don’t have enough staff in yet and kept this section closed until now – not that they seem to need it.”

“Well, we’re here now; so let’s enjoy this amazing view and hopefully, the food will live up to its stellar reputation.”

“I can’t wait to sink my teeth into a nice, hot, fluffy waffle.  The breakfast on the plane consisted of strawberry yogurt and a bran muffin top.  It was completely forgettable and not worth eating.” Donna pulled out her hand sanitizer and gave both of them a squirt.  “It’s flu season, so we need to be extra diligent.”

“Smells like gingerbread,” observed Benedict. 

“Yep.  Wait until you smell all the different scents I got! I brought home twelve, which should last us through the winter.  By the way, did you get your flu shot yet?”

_Fuck me!  I knew there was something I forgot to do._

“Not yet, but I’ve been meaning to call Mark and get one.”

“Please don’t forget, Ben.  I’ve had the flu, and it’s nasty.  The shot also needs two weeks to take effect.”

“You’ll find that I rarely get sick; but I promise to get one this week.”

“Thank you,” said Donna as she reached out and took his hand.  She gave it a squeeze.  “It would be horrible to get sick for the holidays.”

As they took in their surroundings, the sun suddenly came out from behind the clouds leaving their side of the building bathed in bright sunlight that caused them both to blink.

“That’s much better yes?” said Benedict.  “I was feeling a bit chilly.”

_When is he not feeling chilly?  I was thinking they could turn the heat down.  I wonder if I'd look like a jerk if I were to put on my sunglasses.  Yes, I would._

“The view is even more spectacular now that the sun’s come out in full force. Thank you for suggesting we come here, Benedict. I’ve been dying to try this place ever since I read Jay Rayner’s review of it.”

“If I recall, he was one of the few critics who wasn’t thrilled with it.”

“You’re thinking of Sushisamba, which is also in this building.”

“I read his column every week and don’t recall his ever reviewing Sushisamba.”

“Correct.  He hasn’t.  Jay made a comment in his Duck and Waffle review that he disliked Sushisamsba on principle.”

“What principle is that?”

“He meant that they suffer from multi-cultural-fusion overload.”

Benedict regarded her with a raised eyebrow. “What in the fuck does that mean?”

“That the chef fuses too many types of cuisine that don’t necessarily go together in their dishes. Sushisamba combines the cuisines of Brazil, Japan and Peru. Jay basically liked the Duck and Waffle; but thought the wine was ridiculously over-priced.”

“Well, no worries there, as the strongest thing I plan on drinking this morning is coffee.”

Thomas, their server, approached the table to welcome them.  After explaining the menu to them for almost ten minutes, he took their drink orders and disappeared into the kitchen. 

“I guess there’s no need to peruse the menu because he practically read it to us,” quipped Benedict. “What strikes your fancy, Donna?”

“I’m torn between the Full Elvis and the Duck and Waffle.  What about you?”

“Their signature dish, of course, the duck leg confit and waffle.”

“Great!  You get that; and I’ll get the Full Elvis – you know what a tart I am for anything with peanut butter!”

“Hahaha!  You’re stealing my lines.”

“Yeah, I guess I did!  What shall we start with?  I was thinking of sharing the seasonal fruit salad and an order of the freshly baked pastries.  I saw one of the other tables had them as we were walking in, and they look small.”

“That’s fine.  Doesn’t that warmth from the sun feel good?”

“Actually, I was going to say that I’m starting to feel warm,” replied Donna, taking a sip of cold water.  “I wonder if this is why no one was sitting here – because the morning sun is so strong.”

Benedict rolled his eyes.  “Darling, may I remind you that you’re _always_ feeling warm?”

“I was feeling fine until the sun came out and started to heat up the place.”

“It’s not warm in here by any stretch of the imagination.  It’s quite comfortable.”

_Says the man across from me who’s bundled up as if he were sitting outdoors.  It’s true that I seem to always run hotter than everyone else.  I’ll just shut up and ask for a glass of ice to cool off my tea._

Thomas returned promptly with freshly-squeezed orange juice for both of them, along with hot Earl Grey tea for Donna and a flat white coffee for Benedict. Once again he disappeared after taking their orders. Donna pulled out her small notebook, a pen and her camera.  Then she pushed the sleeves of her sweater up over her elbows.  Benedict immediately ceased the opportunity to reach out and take the camera.

“I’ll be your photographer,” he said snapping a photo of the juices and hot drinks.  “There.  That’s sorted.”

“Jesus!  You didn’t even give me a chance to arrange them.”

“I think we can dispense with the food styling yes?  We’re sat in full view of their open kitchen.  It’s okay to take a couple of photos – I’ve seen people doing it across the room; but to rearrange and pose it just so is going to look weird and attract attention.  Do you want them to suspect your reviewing the meal?”

“No,” replied Donna in a small voice.

“Well then you’d best keep that notebook out of view.”

“Yes, sir.  The last thing I want is for them to realize that I’m a food critic.”

“Now, give me your best smile,” said Benedict, taking a photograph of Donna.  He checked the result, smiled and showed it to her.  “You still manage to look beautiful after a seven hour flight!  I don't know how you do it."

_It's called taking ten minutes to freshen my makeup, reapply my antiperspirant and brush my teeth in the ladies room as soon as we land.  By then the luggage is on the carousel waiting for me.  Works every time._

"You know I almost asked if we could get an order of the barbecue-spiced, crispy pigs ears for breakfast,” confessed Benedict.  “But I wasn’t sure they would make them this early.”

“I don’t see why not.  They advertise that they’re open twenty-four hours and they have an all-day menu; so they should be able to do that.”

Benedict picked up his orange juice.  “To picking up where we left off! Cheers!”

“Cheers!”

Donna sipped some cold juice and held the glass against her forehead.

“This tastes freshly-squeezed to me,” commented Benedict.  “It’s nice and pulpy, as well.  I do adore pulp.”

“I agree,” said Donna, writing in her notebook. “I’m a big fan of pulpy juice, too.   Did my package come from Vera Wang?”

Benedict nodded.  “That it did.  It was a huge motherfucking package I might add!  I picked it up from your building's concierge and brought it up to your flat.”

“Where did you put it?”

“It’s sitting on the dining room table, as per your instructions - and before you ask – no, I did not open it.”

“Good boy.  You wouldn’t want to see my wedding gown before time, would you?”

“Actually, I’d love to see it, and I swear not to tell a soul what it looks like!” said Benedict excitedly.  “No one will show me the photographs they took!”

“That wasn’t a serious offer, Ben, its bad luck for the groom to see the dress before the big day.”

Benedict looked disappointed as he sipped his coffee.  “Ah.  I see.  It was a rhetorical question.” 

“I will say that I think it’s the most beautiful wedding gown I’ve ever seen and it didn’t cost my parents a fortune.”

“I’ve always liked that you’re as practical as I am when it comes to spending money.”

“It seemed silly to spend so much on having a custom-made gown when this one is exactly what I wanted."

"From what you told me your dress is technically bespoke with only a few minor alterations needed."

"Yep.  I can't believe that girl decided to elope and left such a gorgeous gown unclaimed after all that expense in favor of a grass skirt.  To each their own I suppose."

"And you reaped the benefit or shall I say your father did?"

"It was a win/win for both of us."

"I'm looking forward to seeing you in it on our wedding day when you walk down the aisle."

"I thought it was traditional here for the groom to face the altar."

"I've decided to borrow one of your traditions.  I want to see you make your entrance."

Oh, oh, here comes the first course.  I’d better hide my notebook,” said Donna, placing her notebook on her lap, underneath her napkin. 

Benedict suddenly started to feel a bit uncomfortable as the sun shone in through the windows.  He could feel the searing heat on his face and hands.

_Am I imagining it or is it really getting rather warm in here?_

He removed his wool scarf and tweed jacket, hanging them both on the back of his chair. 

“What’s wrong?” asked Donna.  “Feeling the heat now are we?”

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck.  “Erm…no.  I just don’t want to get anything on this jacket, as it's one of my favourites.”

The server approached with a plate and wooden board.  Another server came up from behind him with a glass of ice for Donna, who promptly added a couple of cubes to her cup of tea.

_I should have ordered an iced coffee, but it’s too late,_ thought Benedict _.  If I ask to share her ice, I’ll never hear the end of it._

“Here is our seasonal fruit salad in vanilla and cinnamon syrup; and these are our breakfast pastry selections:  croissant, pain au chocolat and pain aux raisins, served with house-churned butter and assorted jams.  Enjoy.”

“I never would have known,” quipped Benedict after Thomas had left them alone.  “I do so love when they describe everything that I’ve ordered back to me as if I had forgotten.”

“You’re becoming very jaded, Mr. Cumberbatch.  If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were hanging around with food critics in your spare time.”

“I do.  As a matter of fact, I’m sleeping with one.”

Donna smiled at him.  “Now, please let me have the camera for just a minute.  I want to take some of the view.”

“Go on then.  Take your photos.  Quick as you can now as I’m ravenous!”

Donna snapped a few photos of the view and two of Benedict.  Then she photographed the fruit salad and baked items from all angles. 

“There!  Let’s dig in!”

“Which do you fancy trying first, the plain croissant?”

“Please.  The fruit salad is pretty tasty.  The fruit is all fresh and ripe without being overly ripe.  There’s just enough of the syrup so the fruit doesn’t get mushy, yet you can still taste it.  I appreciate that the chef didn’t drown the fruit in the syrup.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d swear you were disappointed that he didn’t,” chuckled Benedict as Donna discretely took notes.

Donna looked up and gave him an impish smile.  “You know me well, Benedict. How’s your croissant half?”

“It’s a proper croissant - buttery, flaky and still warm.  As for the house-churned butter; I readily admit that I can’t tell any difference between it and store-bought butter.”

Donna dipped a clean knife in the butter ramekin and tasted the butter on a fingertip.  She nodded and wrote in her small notebook.  “It’s not store-bought butter, Ben Honey.  This is much creamier.”

_Ah!  This is the first time she’s called me that since she’s landed!  I’ve missed hearing it in person!  
_

Donna drank some of her iced tea.  I’m so happy I got this glass of ice, but I’m still hot as hell.  As a matter of fact, Benedict is starting to look really hot now.  I can tell by the way he keeps tugging at his collar. 

_For fucks sake, it’s getting so motherfucking hot in here!  I’ve got to excuse myself for a moment, so I can cool off in the bar._

“I’ll be right back,” said Benedict, getting to his feet and leaving the dining room in a hurry. 

Donna continued taking notes and in a few minutes, Benedict returned wearing only his shirt.

“Weren’t you wearing a sweater over that shirt?”

“I felt too restricted; so I decided to check it.” _Because I was starting to sweat like a pig in it. My underarms feel so fucking damp right now._ “I have much better movement now.”  He crinkled his nose and smiled at her as he flexed his arms.

“I see.”

_Hahaha!  He won’t admit that he’s hot! I see sweat rings under his arms, which I don’t think has ever happened before._

“I’ve made an appointment for us to meet with Vicar Dilby on Thursday morning at half ten.  I even filled it in on our wedding spreadsheet and emailed it back to you with the update.”

Donna looked up from the pain aux raisins and smiled at Benedict.  “Oh, I sure did notice!”

_Of course she did, bless her.  She must consult that thing all day long._

“Thank you so much for doing that!  I know you’re not thrilled with the spreadsheet; but you can’t imagine how helpful that it has been for me.” 

_To say I’m not thrilled would be an understatement.  Oh, the things one does in the name of love and organization!  I promised myself that I’d be a good sport about it and give it a go.  Donna seems very happy that I’ve embraced the spreadsheet, so I suppose I’ll try and keep up with it._

“I also saw that you made us an appointment to go to the Mayfair next Thursday night to meet with one of their wedding planners; as well as a reservation for lunch at the Kensington Roof Gardens on Wednesday for lunch.”

“Yes.  I also contacted a Catholic Church in Hampstead – Saint Mary’s.  Are you familiar with it?”

“Yeah.  It’s on Holly Walk, near the Holly Bush Pub.”

“That’s the one.  I spoke with the parish priest; and we’re going to have to meet with him as well.  I took the liberty of making an appointment with him for Saturday afternoon.  Emily confirmed that you’ve nothing on your calendar, so I added it to our spreadsheet.”

Benedict nodded.  “That’s fine. We’ve both been quite the busy little bees.”

_Oh, shit.  I need to tell her about the engagement party now being at the Garrick Club.  I wish I didn’t have to.  I don’t fancy having a row with her right now, but I need to tell her.  
_

Donna plucked her collar away from her neck. _I’m so fucking hot right now! I need to get out of this room for a minute!  
_

“Donna, there’s something I need to tell you,” began Benedict hesitantly. _  
_

“Honey, you’re going to have to hold that thought,” interrupted Donna.  “I’ll be right back.”

Donna made her way to the bar area, which was a good twenty degrees cooler than where they were sitting.   She helped herself to a cocktail napkin and blotted the perspiration off her face.  The napkin came away covered in foundation and blush. 

_My God!  It was hot as hell in there!  I need to cool off and fix my makeup before I go back.  If I only had a fan!  Oh!  I’ll just borrow one from the hostess podium.  They won’t mind._

Donna approached the podium and took one of the menus. She stood fanning herself furiously when the hostess caught her red-handed.

“Can I help you?”

“I was just trying to cool off.”

“It gets very hot by those windows once that morning sun comes out.  That’s why we don’t use those tables until the sun’s overhead or we have no other choice.”

_So why did you sit us there then when the place was half empty?_   _Because I asked for a window table.  Well, I got one - in hell.  Jeez Louise!  
_

Donna headed to the bathroom and began to repair her makeup.  As she carefully reapplied her lipstick, the text chime went off on her cellphone.  She opened her handbag and saw that it was Benedict:

 

Did you fall in?  B

Nope.  I’ll be back in a minute.  D

You’re in the bar cooling off aren’t you?  B

Why do you think that?  D

Because that’s what I did when left the table. I thought I was going to faint from the heat!  B

I’ll be right there.  Do something to amuse yourself until I get back.  ;-p   D

Do me a favour will you?  B

Sure.  D

Bring back one of those menus to the table, they make for a brilliant fan.  B

Don’t I know!  D

 

Donna returned to the table to find that Benedict had amused himself by finishing off the remaining pastries and was drinking an iced coffee.  He had also rolled up his shirt sleeves, and his face was glistening with sweat. 

“Benedict, you look awful,” she said, handing him the menu. “Shall we ask to switch tables?  I can’t stand sitting here any longer!  I feel like I’m going to fry!”

Benedict began to fan himself furiously. “I already asked.  They agreed to move us to a cooler spot.”

Once they were settled a new table, which was a four-top directly in front of the kitchen, Donna recalled that Benedict had been about to tell her something.

“So, what were you going to tell me before I went out to the bar to cool off.”

_Hmm…there was no one within earshot of the other table.  Now, there are plenty of people around.  I think I’ll hold off until we’re alone._

“You know, I’ve since forgotten.  If it comes back to me, I’ll let you know.”

“Ben, I’d like to invite your parents to come along to the Roof Gardens for lunch.”

“I thought we were leaving our parents out of this until we made up our minds as to the actual reception venue.”

“I know; but your mom was the one who suggested it in the first place; so why don’t we ask them to come along.  It’ll be fun!”

“Having a root canal is more fun.”

“Benedict!  That’s pretty mean-spirited of you.”

Benedict sighed.  “It’s lovely of you to want to include them, Donna; but I don’t think you realize what you’re letting yourself in for by doing that.”

Donna finished her fruit salad.  “No.  I don’t.  Why don’t you tell me the perils of inviting your parents?”

“First of all, I’ve got no problem with Dad coming along because he’ll mind his own business and just enjoy his lunch and our company.  Mum, on the other hand, will see this as you allowing her to get a foot in the door.”

“Oh, Benedict!  I think you exaggerate when it comes to your mom!  Think how happy she will be that we thought to include her – heck, they both will!”

“Oh, Mum will be totes over the moon. Of that I have absolutely no doubt. Dad will be secretly tickled as well.”

“Then what’s the problem?  You make it sound like your mother will be lying in ambush just waiting for a golden opportunity to meddle.”

Benedict snickered as he finished his juice.  “That’s because she will be.  You don’t know Mum like I do, Darling.  Dad and I don’t call her the Wanda Express for nothing.”

“That’s mean, Ben.”

Benedict smiled at her.  “It’s just a joke between Dad and me.  We’re not being malicious whenever we call her that.  The feeling behind it is one filled with love.”

“Somehow, I doubt it,” scoffed Donna. “What do you two refer to me as?”

_Nothing yet, but give it time.  I’m sure we’ll settle on something in the future._

“Nothing.  Just Donna.”

“Hmmm.  I don’t know if I believe that.”

“I swear.  We don’t say anything snarky about you.”

Thomas returned with their main courses.  First, he placed a large, white earthenware plate in front of Donna, who had quickly tucked her notebook back underneath the napkin on her lap.

“This is our Full Elvis.  The waffle is topped with peanut butter, which is ground in house daily and house-made strawberry jam.  It is finished with a split bruleed banana, Chantilly cream, chocolate sprinkles and fresh berries.”

“This looks amazing!” said Donna, as the notebook slid out from underneath her napkin onto the floor.

_OH FUCK!  I’ve got to get that before the server sees it!_

Thomas then placed a heavy-looking stoneware plate with a small cup in front of Benedict, who was trying to kick the notebook under Donna’s chair with his foot.

“This is our signature dish! Crispy duck leg confit on a freshly made waffle topped with a fried duck egg and served with mustard maple syrup.  Is there anything else I can get either of you?”

“Can we please have an order of crispy pig ears?” asked Benedict.

Thomas frowned at Benedict.  “Unfortunately, those are not available for breakfast.”

“Can I have another iced coffee please?”

“Of course.  Can I get you more tea, Miss?”

“Please, but this time I’d like an iced tea.”

The server looked down as Benedict’s foot made contact with his.  He looked down and spied the notebook on the floor beside his foot.

“Let me get that,” Thomas said bending down.

“No, I’ve got it!” said Benedict, also bending down.

Unfortunately, Thomas proved to be quicker and picked up the notebook, which was open to the page where Donna had been busily taking notes about the meal.  She watched in horror as his eyes quickly scanned her notes.

“Here you are, Miss,” he said, handing Donna the notebook and glancing at the camera on the table.

“Thank you,” said Donna meekly.

“I’ll be right back with your drinks.”

Benedict let out the breath he had been holding.  “I’m so sorry, Love.  I tried my best to kick the bloody thing under your chair; but I got his foot instead.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“Do you think he put two and two together?” asked Benedict as he snapped photos of their main courses.

“Shit, it’s time to sound the Food Critic in the House Klaxon.”

“He may not have read your notes.”

“Of course he did!  I saw his eyes roaming over the page. He also saw us taking photos.  He knows we’re not just tourists.”

“Has he done anything yet?” asked Benedict, as he snapped a photo of his duck and waffle. 

“So far, he’s just getting our drinks.”

“We’d better eat these before they get cold and you feel obligated to give them a bad review.”

“Not if it’s my fault.  Oh, crap!  He just went straight into the kitchen to the Executive Chef, and now they’re all looking over here.”

“It’s too bloody late as the food’s been served already,” laughed Benedict, turning the plate slightly and taking another photo of Donna’s dish.  “There.  I like this angle better. Let’s tuck in.”

Thomas returned with a paper bag full of crispy, barbecue spiced pigs ears and another plate of pastries.  “With Chef’s compliments,” he said with a big smile. “I apologize for the misunderstanding about the pig’s ears.  They are always available – as are all the dishes on our menus.”

“That was rather nice of him, don’t you think?” Benedict asked Donna once Thomas had retreated to the kitchen.

“No. It’s a bribe.”

“Bloody hell!  You’re always the suspicious one!”

“They know I’m doing a review and want to make sure I give them a good one, which they are going to get so far.”

“Do you fancy eating half and switching plates or are you still insisting on my giving you half on a clean plate?” asked Benedict. 

“Let’s do the eat and switch.”

“You do realize that I’m not protected against the flu.”

“Don’t’ be a wiseass.”

Benedict carefully prepared the perfect bite on his fork and lifted it to his mouth. “Mmmm…this is brilliant!  The duck is so tender and the skin is perfectly crispy.  The syrup goes perfectly with it.  The whole grain mustard cuts through the sweetness of the maple syrup.”

Donna quickly wrote down his comments in the notebook as she ate a mouthful of her breakfast.  “Is the egg cooked correctly?  Fried eggs can be tough.”

“Nope.  It’s just right.  The white part is firm, and the yolk is properly runny.  How’s yours?”

“It’s so yummy that it’s almost better than sex.  I love anything with peanut butter – especially crunchy peanut butter - and the jam has little bits of fruit in it, giving it some additional texture.  The banana is perfectly bruleed – did you hear the crackle when I cut into it?”

“I did.  Perhaps next time we’re in bed, I’ll put some peanut butter on my dick for you. It may make swallowing my semen easier.”

Donna sputtered and began to cough. 

"Are you alright, Love?"

Donna nodded as she sipped some water.  “You really are a wiseass this morning.  Just for that, I’m not going to tell you about our wedding cake.”

Benedict continued to eat his duck and waffle as if she hadn’t said a word. 

“Aren’t you dying to know?”

“Nope.”

“Damn you, Benedict!”

Benedict gave her a cheeky grin.  “You know you’re going to tell me, so get on with it.”

“I’ve got some great news about our wedding cake.”

“Which is?”

“We don’t have to bother looking for a bakery to make us one!”

“Does this mean you’ve decided to bake it yourself then?” teased Benedict.

“Not quite.”

Benedict raised an eyebrow at her as they traded plates. 

“Giada has offered to bake our wedding cake as part of our wedding gift.”

“That’s some undertaking!  I realize she’s an incredible chef; but is Giada prepared for baking a cake of that magnitude?  What I mean is has she done this sort of thing before?”

Donna burst out laughing.  “Giada got her start in patisserie. Wolfgang Puck hired her to be Spago’s pastry chef when she graduated from Le Cordon Bleu. Then she started her own catering business; so yeah, she’s got the experience.  She’s an excellent baker.” 

“That’s very generous of her!  So, how is she planning on accomplishing this?”

“We decided to first have some Skype chats about what flavours we think would make our ideal wedding cake.  Then once that’s settled, we can decide on the style of cake.”

“Isn’t it proper protocol for the bride and groom to taste the cake before committing?”

“Yes.  Here’s the great part:   Giada’s planning on coming to London to film an episode of her new series in March.  The new series is called _Giada’s Weekend Getaways_ , and she’s filming one episode in London and one in Paris.”

“Ah, so we can sort out the cake business then.”

“Exactly.  Giada’s planning on baking us samples to taste of our top two contenders.”

“She’s going to do this whilst in the midst of filming?”

“No, she’ll have some time off in between the two episodes.   I’ll go out and buy all the ingredients Giada will need before she arrives.  Then she’ll come over to my apartment and bake the test cakes for us to sample.”

“Your kitchen isn’t equipped to bake a wedding cake in, Donna.  Giada will require a commercial kitchen, not to mention we’ll have to hire a man with a van to deliver it to the reception venue.”

“We’ve got that figured out already.  Giada and Todd will fly in a few days before our wedding so she can bake and decorate the cake in Carldonn’s kitchen.  I already spoke with Maria, George and Karl; and they are going to assist her.  Did you forget that Carly and I have a delivery van?”  

“Yeah, I guess I did.  I’m looking forward to the tastings.”

“Me, too!  I’ve already got some great ideas for cakes to bounce off of you.”

“Oh, I forgot to tell you that I’ve registered with an estate agent at Foxtons, so we can also start looking at properties.”

“I thought we were doing one thing at a time.”

“House hunting takes a while.  I thought we might start having a look around to get an idea as to what’s available in our price range and which areas we fancy.”

Donna nodded.  “That’s a good idea.  At least we can narrow it down to the areas we can afford and go from there.”

Benedict pushed his plate away.  “I think Elvis has just about done me in.  That was an overindulgence that I’m going to have to pay dearly for.”

“You don’t have to pay. This meal is on the Tribune’s tab, remember?”

“No, no, no!” laughed Benedict.  “I meant that I’m going to have to step up the exercise in order to burn off these extra calories or I won’t fit in my _Sherlock_ costumes.”

“They say sex is an excellent form of cardio-vascular exercise.”

“You don’t say.”

“Men burn about one hundred calories from start to finish.”

“What about women?”

“We only burn off sixty-nine calories.”

“Speaking of sixty-nine, we haven’t done that in a while.  Are you game?”

“Count on it!  Hey, did you remember what you wanted to tell me yet?”

_Why spoil the mood, Benedict, when we’re about to get out of here and head over to her flat so we can reconnect.  There will be plenty of time to break the news to Donna.  Maybe tomorrow would be better._

“Erm…no.  I haven’t.  Shall we go then?” asked Benedict Cumberbatch raising his hand towards the server. “We’d like to settle the bill please.”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Happy New Year Everyone!
> 
> 2\. This is based on my real-life experience at the Duck and Waffle with my daughter. 
> 
> 3\. I highly recommend the Full Elvis waffle. OMG. There are no words. 
> 
> 4\. Here is the link to the Jay Rayner review: https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2012/sep/02/duck-and-waffle-restaurant-review-jay-rayner
> 
> 5\. Benedict and Donna decided to merge British and American wedding customs.
> 
> 6\. Giada’s Weekend Getaways ran on the Food TV Network in the US from 2007-2008. In this universe, it will run from 2010-2011. One of the episodes was filmed in London.


	153. Chapter 153

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Benedict and Donna have lunch with Wanda and Timothy at the Kensington Roof Gardens. 
> 
> Note: I’ll be using *************** for things happening at the same time.

  

Wanda Ventham and Timothy Carlton exited the lift leading to the Babylon Restaurant, which was situated on the seventh floor of the former Derry and Toms Department Store on Kensington High Street.  They scanned the reception area for Benedict and Donna; but there was no sign of them. 

“Hells bells!  They’re late!” exclaimed Wanda. 

“Technically, they still have five minutes before you can pronounce them officially late,” quipped Timothy. 

Wanda only huffed in response. 

“Did you expect anything different, Pet?” 

“If it had just been Donna coming, she would have been here by now.” 

“True.  However, she’s coming with our son, who is perpetually late regardless.” 

“One would think that he’d be excited about looking at a possible wedding breakfast venue,” remarked Wanda. 

“Yes, one would think that.” 

Wanda only huffed in response. 

“You’re quite the huffy one today.” 

“I don’t mean to be, Tim.  I was hoping against hope that Ben would be so over the moon about moving things along for the wedding that he’d be on time for once.” 

“Do you want to know what I think?” 

“Of course.” 

“I think you need to stop huffing and puffing and hoping against hope.  Benedict is one of those people who will forever be late, despite ours and Donna’s best efforts; which is why you need to learn to relax and go with the flow.” 

“Huffing and puffing is an outlet for my frustration.” 

“Duly noted.” 

“You look as if you want to say something, Tim.” 

“I do.” 

“Get on with it then.  Tell me that I need to make the best of his being late and lets have a drink in the bar to pass the time.” 

Timothy chuckled.  “I was going to say that I’m sure Ben is over the moon about coming here.  It’s just that he runs on a different clock than the rest of the world.” 

“I find it funny how he’s never late for a job.” 

“Well, that’s different I suppose. Being on time for work is paramount to him – not that we’re not important to him.  Maintaining a spotless work ethic is a prime concern of Ben’s.  Lord knows we’ve drummed it into him ever since he declared himself a theatre major. He knows that directors and producers will not be very accepting of him being perpetually tardy.  However, we’re his family and we love him; therefore, we’re apt to be the ones to forgive his chronic lateness.” 

“That’s bollocks, Timothy!” 

“Of course it is, but it sounded brilliant as I was saying it.  I do like your suggestion to pass away the time at the bar. Fancy a drink whilst we wait for them?” 

“No.” Wanda consulted her watch and shook her head in disgust.  “They’re officially late.” 

“Did you have any doubt?  I’m going to the bar whilst you stand here and stew over something you can’t control.” 

“I’ll check in at the podium and let them know we’re waiting for another couple to arrive and will be in the bar.  Then I’ll be in to join you.” 

“Brilliant.  I’ll be the one sat at a table for two watching the flamingos with a glass of white wine.  Hopefully, they’ll have put out a bowl of those cheese wafers to munch on.” 

Five minutes later, Wanda joined Timothy in the bar.  As he had said, she found him sitting at a small table with two chairs that had a view of the gardens.  Wanda noted that he had ordered her a glass of white wine as well. 

“Thank you, Tim. That looks lovely!” 

“Not only does it look lovely, but it tastes even better.” 

Wanda took a sip and smacked her lips in satisfaction.  “Now, that hits the spot.  Have you had any word from Donna or Benedict?” 

“No.  What a pity that the flamingos aren’t out and about,” replied Timothy. 

“Either they’re having a wander in another one of the gardens or they’re inside hiding from the cold.” 

“Who?  Ben and Donna or the flamingos?” teased Timothy. 

Wanda began to giggle.  “The bloody flamingos, you dolt!” 

“Was there a problem with holding the table?” 

“They’ll hold it for another fifteen minutes.” 

“If they haven’t shown by then, we’ll eat without them.” 

Wanda opened her handbag and removed a copy of Benedict and Donna’s engagement party invitation.  “I thought I'd give Donna a copy for her scrap book.” 

“You outdid yourself on that, Love.” 

“Thank you.” 

“I wonder what they do about the gardens with a winter wedding,” ventured Timothy.  “They certainly can’t have guests wandering about in the cold.” 

“I haven’t a clue, but we’ll find out soon enough.  Tim, do you find it odd that Donna’s not even mentioned the change of engagement party venues to us?” 

Timothy took a sip of wine and shook his head.  “Not especially.  She’s been consumed with getting back here and sorting things out with Ben about the wedding.” 

“What I mean is Donna was quite specific that she didn’t fancy a party at the Garrick Club; so I find her silence disconcerting.” 

“Has it ever occurred to you that perhaps she’s decided to accept the situation after Ben explained the circumstances to her?” 

“No. Donna was brought up properly, so she would have acknowledged it – especially the invitation I made for them.” 

“I’m sure she’ll say something today then.” 

“I certainly hope so.  I still think it odd that she’s said nary a word about it and we’ve been in touch by email.” 

Timothy sipped his wine.  “No nuts today, just cheese wafers.  I’m feeling peckish, too.  Shall I order us a starter to share?” 

“For fucks sake!  I hope they’re not going to be that long!” 

“I take it that was a ‘no’ then, yes?”

“Yes!” Wanda glanced at her watch and heaved a sigh.  “This is making me crackers.  I can only imagine what Donna’s feeling right now.” 

“She’s probably feeling the same compulsion I am to clip him around the ears when I see him.” 

“I thought you were going with the flow.” 

“That was just a verbal outlet for my frustration.” 

“I’m sure Ben’s the cause for them being late.  I had had such hope when he began to court her that she would set him right!” 

“I think overall, Donna’s success rate has actually been pretty damn good with moving Barrister Ben along, provided they aren’t coming from their respective residences.  Do you know if they were together last night?” 

“Hells bells, Tim!  They’re officially living together now.” 

“I don’t know if I would qualify taking turns sleeping at each other’s flats living together.  It’s more like commuting,” laughed Timothy. 

Timothy’s mobile began to ring from inside his trousers pocket. 

“I wonder who that might be,” he mused, removing the mobile.  “Care to take a wild guess as to who it might be?” 

“We both know who it is.” 

“Hello Ben,” said Timothy. 

 

*****************************************************

  

“Are you absolutely sure the entrance is along this stretch of Kensington High Street?” Donna asked Benedict.  “This is the second time we’ve walked up and down this block, and I’ll be damned if I see an entrance that says Babylon Restaurant.” 

“If you just look up, you should be able to see a very small section of the motherfucking garden from here!” 

Donna looked up towards the sky.  “Then it must be invisible; because I don’t see anything that looks like a garden.  All I see are Virgin Limited flags flying in the breeze.” 

“The gardens are owned by Virgin, so we’re definitely in the right place.  I swear that if you stand in a certain spot, you can see some of the treetops.” 

"Apparently this isn't the spot."  _But I'll humor you just the same._ Donna moved to the end of the sidewalk and looked up before returning to stand beside Benedict, who had pulled his mobile out of his trousers pocket. 

“I still don’t see anything, Ben…” 

Benedict’s only response was to glare at her. 

“…but I believe you.” 

Donna pointed at Benedict’s cellphone.  “Now that’s a good idea.” 

“What is?” 

“To call your parents and ask them where the damn entrance is.”

Benedict appeared horrified.  “Fuck no!  I’m not calling them – I’m perfectly capable of looking up the address myself.” 

_Which is what he should have done in the first place before leaving his apartment_ , thought Donna, _but he swore he knew exactly how to get here.  
_

“How about if I just pop into Marks and Spencer and get directions.  I’m sure one of the salespeople knows where it is.” 

Benedict glared at her again.  “I’m telling you.  I know it’s here.  We just need the address.  It’s like one of those hidden entrances.” 

“Then they’ve hidden it very well,” giggled Donna. 

“It’s like the Ivy Club’s entrance.” 

“I see.  You know you should at least tell your parents we’re going to be late – it’s common courtesy. Do you want me to call them?” 

“There’s no need. These are my parents we’re talking about.  It’s a given that I’m going to be late.  Besides, if I call them for that, I can ask them where the entrance is.” 

“That’s the idea. We can kill two birds with one stone.” 

“Bloody hell!” groaned Benedict in frustration. “I can’t get a signal.” 

“How about if I go into H&M and ask that security guard near the door, or if I’m still forbidden to do that, I can do some shopping while I’m waiting for you to find the secret entrance, Sherlock.” 

“Sod off, Donna.  I know it’s here!” 

_Holy cow!  This is exactly like when he gets lost on car trips.  Benedict won’t ask for directions if his life were at stake! I so don’t love that male pride of his._

“I see.” 

“That’s the second time you’ve said that, and frankly, it’s starting to get on my nerves.  What does that mean exactly?” 

“I didn’t realize that the same caveat that prevents you from asking for directions when we’re lost in the car applies to when we’re lost on foot.” 

“Fuck off,” snapped Benedict.  “And I mean that in the nicest possible way, _Sweetheart_.” 

“Bullshit!  You meant that in the nastiest possible way.  I know that snotty tone when I hear it, Benedict.  Now, I’m going into H&M whether you like it or not to get directions.” 

Benedict watched as Donna stalked off into the store.  He walked around the pavement in an futile attempt to get a signal.  Finally, she came outside, looking annoyed. 

“Well then?  Where is it?”  He demanded. 

“Nobody I spoke with knows!” cried Donna in frustration.  “Let’s try the tube station.  I bet someone in the arcade will definitely know.” 

“What makes you think they’ll know in the tube arcade.  See!  It’s not that easy to find now is it?” 

“Apparently it’s one of the best kept secrets in Kensington,” snickered Donna.  “If we do decide to have our reception here, we’ll have to have a trail of rose petals leading from the church to the entrance.” 

Benedict began to laugh.  “Brilliant!  I just got a signal.” 

“Now, please get off the ego trip and call your parents!  We’re late, and I’m hungry!” 

Benedict pressed the key on his speed dial for Timothy’s mobile and waited for him to pick up. 

_“Hello Ben.”_

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck.  “Hi Dad.  Erm…we’re not late.  We’re here.”

 

  
*******************************************************

 

 

_“Hi Dad.  Erm…we’re not late.  We’re here.”  
_

Timothy glanced around the bar and towards the reception area.  “Are you now? I don’t see you, and I’ve got a clear view of reception from my seat here in the bar.” 

_“That’s because we’re stood on Kensington High Street in front of Marks and Spencer.  I could swear the entrance should be right here…”_

“Where are they?” whispered Wanda impatiently. 

Timothy covered the mouthpiece with his hand.  “Ben’s calling to make sure we understand that he’s not late. They’re downstairs wandering about the High Street, and he’s baffled as to why he can’t locate the bloody entrance.”  

Wanda rolled her eyes.  “He’ll be wandering the High Street for a long time then.  You’d better tell him. Donna must be livid by now.” 

_“…I know it should be one of these doors.  I recall it should be nestled in between the entrances to these other buildings; but I can’t tell which one it is.  I don’t know why in the hell I can’t seem to find it!”_

“It’s quite simple really.  You can’t find it because the entrance is on Derry Street.” 

There was a pause at the other end of the line.  Timothy could hear his son swearing under his breath. 

“Ben?  Are you there?” 

_“Yeah. We’re right around the corner then.  See you soon.”_

Wanda Ventham raised an inquiring eyebrow at her husband. “So the penny finally dropped yes?” 

“As far as it ever does.  Your son has just informed me that they’re right around the corner and will be straight over,” announced Timothy. 

“He’s half your son also, may I remind you.” 

“My half isn’t direction-challenged,” sniffed Timothy.  “He gets that from you.” 

“Bloody hell! You would think Ben would remember where the entrance is.  We only took him here for his birthday dinner last year.” 

“Yes, one would think that; but we’re talking about Ben.  His direction memory expiration must be less than a year,” chuckled Timothy. 

“There’s never a dull moment with our Ben, bless him.” 

“I wouldn’t mind having a few dull moments when it comes to our son.  There always seems to be such drama following him around.”  Timothy put his mobile away and stood up.  “Well, now that the entrance business has been sorted, we might as well let them know at reception that the rest of our party has arrived.” 

 

 

*****************************************************

  

Benedict and Donna trotted to the corner and turned left onto Derry Street. 

“I don’t get it.  Google shows the address as being 99 Kensington High Street,” said Donna, tucking her cellphone away in her handbag. 

“Who knows why they chose to do it this way, but this is where the entrance is supposed to be.” 

“I thought you said you were just here last year.” 

“True.  I was; but there was torrential rain that night so we had to take a cab over.  I wasn’t paying much attention to the route the driver took.” 

“That’s obvious!” snorted Donna, hurrying to keep up with him. 

“You’re such a smartass.  I was more concerned with getting here on time.” 

“Well, that’s a first!” 

“Sod off.  If you look up, now you should be able to see a small part of the garden from here.” 

“OH!  Yes! _Now,_ I can see some tree tops up on the roof!” 

Benedict came to a halt in front of a glass entrance framed by chocolate brown metal with an overhang.  The plaque on the front of the building proclaimed it as being ‘99 Kensington High Street’.  The directory on the left-hand side of the entrance also confirmed it as being 99 Kensington High Street.  The word Babylon was stenciled in white on one of the glass doors. 

“Well, I’ll be damned,” declared Donna.  “Of course the actual entrance would be on Derry Street, yet they kept the Kensington High Street address. Makes perfect sense,” she quipped.  

“Who knows what goes through people’s minds when they set these things up.  Perhaps the original entrance was moved over the years, and they got permission to keep the address. Shall we go through then?” Benedict mounted the few steps to the entrance and held the door open for Donna to enter the building. 

 

 

Ten minutes later Benedict and Donna were sat across from Wanda and Timothy at a four-top table in front of the restaurant windows, looking out over the Rooftop Gardens.  

“It’s beautiful up here!” exclaimed Donna.  “You were so right, Wanda.” 

“The section we’re looking at is known as the English Woodland Garden,” explained Timothy.  

“This is the part you saw from below,” added Benedict.  “It overlooks the High Street to the south.” 

“As you can see, there’s also a stream and a garden pond that is home to  ducks and flamingos, “continued Wanda.  “The stream is even stocked with fish.” 

“Which they don’t serve in the restaurant,” chuckled Timothy.  “Another interesting bit of trivia is that the flamingos have names.” 

“You’re going to love this,” Benedict said to Donna, rolling his eyes. 

“Their names are: Bill, Ben, Splosh and Pecks,” smiled Wanda.  “Ben used to get a kick out of that when he was a small.  He used to say the bird was named for him.” 

“Well, I can’t wait to go outside and meet Ben,” declared Donna, winking at Benedict.  “There are two other sections from what I read online." 

Wanda nodded. “That’s correct. There’s also the Spanish Garden, which is the most formal.” 

“I just learnt that it’s based on the Alhambra, which is a Moorish fortress complex in Spain,” chimed in Timothy. 

“The Spanish Garden is my favourite,” said Wanda. “There are fountains and vine-covered walkways that surround a gorgeous curved sun pavilion. The other one is called the Tudor Garden and is a smaller formal walled garden.” 

“I used to enjoy playing under the archways and hiding in its secret corners, which I wasn’t supposed to do,” laughed Benedict.  “I remember the fragrance in that garden is absolutely lovely in the spring as the air is scented with lavender, roses and lilies.” 

“It also has the most amazing panoramic views over west London through windows in the walled edge,” said Timothy.  “It would make a wonderful spot for a drinks reception.” 

“The more you all talk about it, the more anxious I am to see it all,” said Donna.  “I wish we could just skip lunch and go straight outside.” 

“The wedding planner can’t meet with us until after lunch,” explained Benedict.  “So you’re just going to have to practice being patient.” 

Donna rolled her eyes. “Says the man with absolutely no patience.” 

“I thought the matter of which of us is the most impatient had been sorted out already.” 

“We did.  You’re right, Ben Honey.” 

“Who won then?” inquired Timothy with a smirk. 

“We decided it was a draw,” giggled Donna. 

Timothy indicated his and Wanda’s wine glasses.  “We started without you, so please feel free to catch up.” 

Donna glanced at her watch.  _It’s twelve fifteen._ “I’ll have the same as you two.” 

“Make it two more then,” interjected Benedict, as his father waved the server over to their table and ordered their drinks. 

Donna perused the menu. “What do you recommend?”  She asked her future in-laws. 

“They have a lovely set lunch,” replied Timothy.

“Yes, three courses for only twenty-eight pounds,” added Wanda.  “It’s a good deal.” 

The server promptly returned with Donna and Benedict’s wine. 

“Do you have any questions or are you ready to order?” he inquired pleasantly. 

“I think we’ll need a few more minutes,” replied Timothy. 

Once the server had left, Benedict looked directly at Donna.  “I know we’re here with the express purpose of evaluating the place for our reception venue; but being this is your first time here, I’d like to know if you’re planning on doing a review.” 

Donna smiled shyly at him.  “You know me well, Benedict.” 

“I would hope so.” 

“The column would run next Sunday.” Donna looked at Wanda and Timothy.  “Would you mind if I were to do a review?  I could use two more seasoned palates.” 

“Not at all!” replied Timothy.  “I love participating in your reviews.”

 Wanda clapped her hands together.  “That’s a brilliant idea.  Count my palate in as well!  What would you like me to order?” 

“I was just noticing that they offer a choice of four starters, mains and puddings,” remarked Benedict.  “Why don’t we order one of each, and then we can share.” 

Everyone nodded their agreement and the order was placed with the server.  Once he was gone, Donna took out her camera and notebook. 

“I took these along to take photos of the gardens and notes on their wedding packages,” she explained sheepishly. 

_Of course you did,_ thought Benedict with amusement.  _She had this planned from the start, bless her._

_I love how Benedict and his parents eat everything just as it comes.  I could never do this with my parents without it turning into a huge production.  Mom would be asking for the sauces and dressings on the side and the meat cooked medium well – with no char. There’s either too much ice or too little ice in her drinks. Not too much butter on her vegetables, blah blah blah.  Then she’d be sending something back.  Dad would be asking them to swap out the sides because he’s never EVER happy with what comes with the entrees.  
_

“Why are you smiling like that?” Timothy asked Donna. 

“It’s just refreshing to have your dining companions order right off the menu without asking for one hundred exceptions.” 

“You’re referring to your parents yes?” inquired Wanda, stifling a giggle. 

“Who else?” Donna chortled.  “Every meal out with them is an adventure.” 

“Mum, please don’t start,” began Benedict. 

“Are you kidding me, Benedict?” Donna demanded.  “Really?  You’ve eaten with them in restaurants!  Would you call it a pleasure?” 

“Hmmm…I’ve mostly had meals cooked by either you or your mum.  And the times we’ve dined out with them, there hasn’t been anything weird that I noticed; and believe me, I would have noticed.” 

“Barrister Ben misses nothing,” snorted Timothy. 

“You, too, Dad?”  Benedict raised an eyebrow at his father. 

“No, it’s alright, Honey,” said Donna, patting his hand.  “First of all, when we’re with a group; I always try and sit us away from them so there is as little friction as possible. Secondly, you forget your parents have had the experience of dining in the company of my family for two weeks.  They know first-hand what I’m talking about.” 

“I still find it odd to refer to eating with them as an experience or an adventure,” quipped Benedict.  “Shouldn’t you say it was a pleasure?” 

Wanda, Timothy and Donna burst out laughing.  

“Not really,” replied Wanda.  “Because dining out with them is anything but a pleasure until the ordering has been sorted! I always pity the poor sods that have to serve them in restaurants.” 

“It’s more akin to an odd experience,” added Timothy.  “I’m not used to dining out with people who have so many…preferences.  When Wanda and I go out with friends, every now and again, someone will need to make a dietary request for health reasons, but nothing on the scope of what we’ve witnessed whilst in New York.” 

Wanda opened her handbag and removed the engagement invitation.  “I’ve brought along an extra copy of your engagement party invite for your scrapbook, Donna.”  She smiled proudly and handed it across the table to Donna.  “In case Ben neglected to tell you, I designed and made them myself with my trusty PC and printer.” 

_No, Wanda, your son said absolutely nothing about this to me.  All I know is that we’re having an engagement party at the Chinese buffet on Saturday night._

“Thank you so much, Wanda!  That was so kind of you.  This is the first I’m seeing it.  Why didn’t you tell me about this, Ben?” 

_Because my clot of a son most likely forgot to tell you,_ thought Timothy as he side-eyed Wanda.  

_What in the hell is Donna talking about?_ Thought Wanda. _Ben’s already seen it.  I emailed and gave one to him.  He was supposed to share it with Donna after he told her about the party being held at the Garrick Club, which I suddenly have a feeling he didn’t do._

Wanda frowned and stared pointedly at Benedict, who set down his wine glass and suddenly blanched.  

_Fuck me!  I forgot to mention to Donna that the party venue has changed.  I’m so fucked now._

“Well, at least we won’t have to worry about my parents making a fuss when we have our engagement party at the Chinese buffet,” smiled Donna, as she began to read the announcement.  “Oh, look at the little love birds, Honey!  This is so adorable, Wanda!  I can’t thank you enough for doing this for us!”  She paused to take a sip of her wine. 

Timothy and Wanda glared at their son in disbelief. 

_That confirms my suspicions. The dolt didn’t tell her about the Garrick Club!_ Thought Timothy.  _I do hope that Donna’s not going to make a scene and just accept it graciously even though this isn’t what she wanted._

_Well done, Benedict_ , thought Wanda.  _I think I’ll let him stew in his own juice and be the one to explain things to her.  Why should Tim and I take the brunt of her wrath?  
_

Benedict crinkled his nose and smiled at Donna.  “Oh, crumpets!  I forgot to mention that there’s been a change of venue.” 

_Hmmm…he’s giving me the cute nose crinkle and lop-sided smile, plus Wanda and Tim are looking extremely pissed at him.  This isn’t going to be good news._

Donna set down her wine glass and continued reading the invitation:

 

_**They’re Engaged!** _

__

_**Join us as we honour Benedict and Donna** _

_**With an engagement party:** _

__

_**Saturday, the nineteenth of December, at 8:00 PM** _

__

_**The Garrick Club** _

_**15 Garrick Street** _

_**London WC2E 9AY** _

__

_**Hosted by:  Timothy and Wanda Cumberbatch** _

_**RSVP:** **+44 20 3616 6378 by fifteenth December** _

 

_The Garrick Club?  When in the hell did this happen?  Why am I first finding out about this now?  Why was I not consulted about this?_

Donna looked up at Wanda and Timothy.   “This is the first I’m hearing about this.” 

She could hear Benedict gulp beside her.  He reached out and covered her hand with his in an effort to calm her.  

_Hmmm…his palm is moist and trembling.  He’s afraid I’m going to blow up. This explains why Mom was stressing out about bringing along a garment bag on the plane.  She said she needed to pack a suit for Dad and a cocktail-type dress for herself, and I thought it was crazy to get so dressed up for the buffet.  Mom must have automatically assumed I knew about the change. No wonder Carly keeps asking me if I’m going to buy a new dress for the party.  Everyone got the invites but me._

“Benedict was supposed…” Began Wanda with annoyance. 

“Mum.  Please.  There’s no need for you to explain.  I cocked this up, Donna.  I promised Mum and Dad that I’d tell you that the venue had to be changed and simply forgot because I was so busy with work.” 

“What happened to the buffet?”  Donna inquired calmly. 

“I couldn’t book the buffet because we had no idea when you’d be returning to London. By the time we got confirmation that you would be back by the nineteenth, the restaurant informed me that they were booked solid with holiday parties,” replied Wanda with great sadness.  “I even tried some of the other restaurants in Chinatown, but the response was the same.” 

“My wife spent an entire afternoon visiting other possible venues and calling around to see if she could find space in a venue that would be acceptable to you,” continued Timothy.  “Unfortunately, being it’s the holiday season; there was no place to be had, which I’m sure you can understand.” 

Benedict glared at his father.  “That was rather snarky, Dad.” 

“There was no snark intended, Ben.” 

_Oh, Dad!  I know snark when I hear it.  That was a jab at Donna’s attitude towards the men-only clubs.  
_

_If I didn’t know better, I’d say Timothy’s been annoyed with me ever since I made those comments about his club,_ thought Donna. _  
_

Timothy ran his hand through his silver hair and smiled thinly at Donna.  “Please accept my apologies, Donna.  It’s not my intent to start a row.  I’m simply stating the chain of events, which led us to selecting the Garrick Club.” 

_I really didn’t mean to be snarky, but I need to make sure my future daughter-in-law understands that Wanda went above and beyond to find a venue to please her.  It’s too damn bad if she doesn’t condone their rules._

“We even considered booking the Ivy Club, being Ben’s a member; but sadly they were unable to accommodate us,” added Wanda.  

Benedict squinted across the table at his mother. “How do you know? You never asked me to contact them.” 

“I didn’t have to. Your father sounds just like you on the phone.” 

“They would have asked for my membership ID number.” 

“And they did, but I had all the information on the computer.” 

“Bloody hell, Mum!  You hacked into my computer again?” 

“Heavens, no!  When they approved your membership, you were so proud that you forwarded the email to us.  It had all the necessary information on it; so I decided to save it just in case the occasion ever arose that I might need it.” 

“Christ,” muttered Benedict as the server brought a tray with their starters.  The first dish was placed in front of Wanda and the second in front of Donna.

##  **“** Butternut Squash Soup with a Cashell blue cheese crouton, pickled walnut and sage for you, Madame.  This is our English courgette spaghetti tossed with salsa verde.  It is topped with goats’ curd, toasted pine nuts and a crispy fried Breckland Brown chicken egg.  Enjoy.”

##  _I love how they call zucchini courgette here,_ thought Donna.  _It no longer sounds ordinary. Hahaha!_

## The server returned to retrieve the last two dishes from the tray.  The first one was placed in front of Timothy and the last one in front of Benedict.

“Salmon Gravlax with cucumber, dill, pickled mustard seeds, English mustard emulsion and, caraway bread crackers for you, Sir.  And this is our marinated topside of beef with tamari, garlic and chili, pickled vegetables, watercress salad and mustard mayonnaise.  Please enjoy.”  


“Don’t touch anything,” Benedict warned his parents.  “I have to take photos first.” 

“We’ve been on reviews with Donna before,” said Wanda.  

“We know the drill,” added Timothy.  “Everything looks delicious.” 

Donna opened her notebook and began to surreptitiously take notes as everyone tasted the starters and made their comments.  Once they had finished with critiquing the appetizers, Donna decided to return to the subject of the engagement party. 

“Wanda, Tim; I just wanted to say that I feel bad that you made yourselves crazy with trying to find an appropriate space to hold the party.  You could have just let it go.” 

“For fucks sake!  I thought this was sorted,” Benedict said to Donna under his breath. 

“Maybe you did, but it’s not.” 

Benedict bit down on his lower lip and tapped his foot against hers. 

“My dad already explained what transpired,” he hissed in a low voice. 

_She needs to shut the fuck up now!  Dad’s not looking happy.  
_

_Oh, oh.  My honey wants me to drop the subject.  
_

“Poppycock!” exclaimed Wanda.  “Tim and I want to introduce you properly to our family and friends.  This is a milestone in Benedict’s life, and we want to celebrate it.” 

Benedict leaned close to Donna and imitated his mother.  “We can’t let an opportunity go by to celebrate the fact that poor, pitiful Benedict finally found himself a bird who fancies him so much that she’s agreed to marry the poor sod.” 

“Now, _that_ was snarky,” snapped Timothy.  

Donna and Benedict eyes met as they exchanged plates.  She could see the pleading expression in his.  _Benedict wants me to let it go.  Wanda and Tim are determined to host an engagement party for us, which is fine._ _I just wish it were any place but one of those stodgy old clubs that discriminate against women._

“Being we knew that you were less than chuffed with the Garrick Club, Wanda had even suggested hosting the party in our flat; but I vetoed the idea,” said Timothy.  “It would involve too much work, and neither of us would be able to enjoy the moment.  I felt the party needed to be held in a proper venue; so I took it upon myself to contact the Garrick Club and see what they could do to accommodate a senior member in good standing.” 

_The Garrick Club is where they wanted to hold the party in the first place_ , thought Donna _._

“Believe me, Donna.  This was our last hope of finding a nice venue,” said Wanda.  

“I didn’t want you to go through so much trouble,” retorted Donna.  “Just a small cake with the immediate family would have been fine.” 

_Oh, oh.  Look at their faces.  That would not be fine.  They really are hell bent on having a party for us.  I wish Benedict would stop knocking his foot against my nice, new shoes!  He’s going to scrape off all the fucking suede.  
_

“It turned out to be no trouble whatsoever,” said Timothy.  “I spoke with the Senior Events Planner at the Garrick Club, who was most accommodating.  We have booked a lovely room along with a harpist to provide some background music whilst everyone mingles.  There will be an open bar, butler-passed canapes and nibbles along with a special cake and a champagne toast to mark the occasion.” 

“Wait until you hear what we’re having, Donna!  I just know you’re going to be over the moon with the variety! Let me read you the menu!” exclaimed Wanda, pulling a list from her handbag which she began to read aloud from: 

“We’re having wasabi prawns with avocado on rice crackers, tea-smoked salmon on mustard, chive and dill butter toasts, wild mushroom and caramelized onion polenta bites, filet Mignon with Stilton and rocket on rosemary bruschetta, scallops wrapped in maple-glazed-pepper bacon, caviar and crème fraiche stuffed baby Jersey Royal potatoes,  butternut squash and Comte gougeres, crispy phyllo crab parcels,  curry-spiced prawns with coriander mayo,  mini steak and kidney pies, lamb lollipops with mint pesto dip,  Welsh rarebit and tomato chutney bites,  asparagus wrapped in pancetta, venison and cranberry meatballs, and lobster bisque shooters and gazpacho shooters.” 

“Wow, wow, wow! You’ve really outdone yourself with the selections this time, Mum!  That menu sounds absolutely delightful, doesn’t it, Darling?”  Benedict smiled widely at Donna as he tapped his foot against hers.  “I’ve eaten at the Garrick Club many times, and I want to assure you that the food is always nothing less than extraordinary.” 

_Actually, it does sounds extremely impressive.  Mom and Dad will be thrilled to death when they find out.  
_

Donna nodded.  “That’s one very impressive menu,” she agreed.  

_I can just hear Grandpa Colin.  He’d say:  “So, you let them throw you a party at Tim’s club for rich toffs.  That’s how it is when you marry into a posh family, bless them.”  
_

“What about the cake?” inquired Benedict. _  
_

“Oh, you’re going to be over the moon when you see it!  It’s one of the loveliest cake designs I’ve ever seen!” 

“Do they do all they’re baking on premises?” asked Donna. 

“Of course they do,” said Timothy with a smirk.  “Their pastry chef used to work for one of London’s most celebrated wedding cake bakers.” 

“Their chief baker used to work for Rosalind Miller,” clarified Wanda. “We decided on a cake made with _S_ icilian Lemon sponge with Sicilian Lemon Swiss Meringue Buttercream and Lemon Curd filling.  I was originally going to get a chocolate cake; but Tim pointed out that we should have something lighter given all the rich food we’re going to have. If you fancy the cake, perhaps she can be persuaded to bake your wedding cake.” _  
_

“There’s no need,” said Benedict.  “The wedding cake’s been partially sorted already. Donna’s friend, Giada, has offered to bake our wedding cake as part of our gift. She’s flying over a few days early in order to bake it in Carldonn’s kitchen.  All we have to do is settle on what flavours we fancy.” _  
_

Donna could see that Wanda was clearly impressed. _  
_

“That’s brilliant news!  Not many couples – if any – can boast that Giada DiLaurentiis baked their wedding cake.” 

Timothy pulled out his mobile and scrolled through his photographs.  He held it out for Donna and Benedict to look at.  

“This is the room I booked for the party.  I’ve been assured that it will be decorated in Christmas finery, such as pine roping entwined with fairy lights and holly. They can either light the fireplace or fill it with candles, whichever you prefer.” 

Donna and Benedict studied the photograph as a busboy came and cleared away their empty starter plates.  She felt his hand brush against her thigh under the table and gently squeeze it. _  
_

_I don’t have to ask what Benedict’s vote is.  He really wants me to give in.  
_

“It’s a lovely room, Dad.  I can imagine the fireplace filled with candles.” _  
_

_Holy cow!  The Garrick Club sure is elegant and very classy!  No wonder Benedict was so hopped up about having the party there. Tim and Wanda are so enthusiastic about it. They are literally beaming about the arrangements. I can see how much pleasure it’s giving them and how much it means to them to throw this party for us.  They honestly tried to find another venue, so I need to let go of any residual anger I’m holding about this.  Timothy did what he thought was the best solution.  They clearly want to hold the party there, and Benedict does as well.  How can I ask them to cancel it?  They will be so disappointed.  I can’t go to war with my future in-laws over this.  I also can’t do that to Benedict. In the grand scheme of things, is it really that important?  It’s a different culture here, and I’m going to have to get used to it. The right thing to do is to be gracious and go along with it._

“We even invited Rodney Renfield and his wife to attend, and they have accepted,” added Wanda in a last ditch effort to sway Donna.  “As a matter of fact, no one turned us down.” 

“That’s because everyone here knows the Garrick Club’s stellar reputation for fine food and drink, as well as their hospitality when it comes to private parties.  Once you’ve gone inside, Donna, you will see first-hand that the staff will treat you and all the other female guests with the same respect, kindness and courtesy shown to the male guests and members.  I promise you that all will be fine, and you’ll soon forget that you’re in a private male-only club,” said Timothy.  “As Wanda just said, no one turned us down.” 

_Except the bride-to-be,_ thought Benedict sadly. _I know how much Donna detests the idea of Dad’s club. If only she wouldn’t stand on ceremony and make an exception this one time for their sake. It’s no secret that Mum and Dad wanted to host the party at the Garrick Club from the start.  If only Donna could understand that they mean no harm.  My parents’ fondest wish was to throw us a proper engagement party at a ritzy venue.  I know how hard Mum must have looked for an alternative venue. I know they’re as over the moon as I am that things worked out this way.  It’s too bad that Donna won’t give in. I hope to hell she lets them down as gently as possible._

_I’m shocked that they thought to invite Uncle Rodney and Aunt Bea.  They hate Uncle Rodney with a passion, so that was super nice of Wanda and Tim to include them on the guest list. I love how they’re willing to try and make things work.  Mom and Dad must be very happy that they thought to include them.  I need to learn a lesson from this and do my part to make things work as well.  
_

“The room is so elegant, and I’m sure the food will be as fabulous as it sounds.  Thank you both for going through so much trouble to arrange this party for us,” Donna smiled at Wanda and Timothy as she gave Benedict’s hand a squeeze. “I know it wasn’t easy scrambling around town trying to find a suitable venue just to please me – and I love you both for it.  My family is going to be thrilled with the Garrick Club, and I find myself looking forward to it very much.” 

“Thank you, Darling,” whispered Benedict, leaning over to kiss her temple.  “This means so much to me.” 

Wanda and Timothy smiled widely at her from across the table. 

“Thank you for being such a good sport about it, Donna,” said Timothy as the server brought out a tray with their main courses. 

As with the starters, the first dish was placed in front of Wanda and the second in front of Donna. 

“Madame, for you we have the roasted hake fillet with fregola pasta, Muscat grapes, green olives, red onion, saffron, lemon and coriander yoghurt.”  

The server paused and smiled flirtatiously at Donna.  “For you, Miss, poached Legbar chicken breast served over grilled celeriac, which has been marinated in olive oil with chili, lemon and maple syrup.  It is on a bed of buttered baby spinach, and topped with a sweet potato girolle mushroom salsa with smoked paprika and chili.  Please enjoy, and if there’s anything at all you need, please let me know; and it will be my utmost pleasure to see that you are taken care of promptly.” 

_That right bastard is flirting with my fiancée,_ thought Benedict. _Unless he’s seen Donna studiously writing away in that little notebook of hers that she thinks she keeps hidden so well.  
_

Benedict smiled up at the server as he leaned over to kiss Donna on the lips.  “We’ll be sure to let you know.”  He crinkled his nose at the young man. 

_Hmmm…that was a little over-the-top, and now Benedict’s jealous of the attention,_ thought Donna. _He wasn’t as solicitous to Wanda as he was to me.  Maybe he suspects that I’m a food critic. I can’t wait to see if the chicken is overcooked, as it so often is.   The chef seems to be fond of chili.  I hope he didn’t overdo it._

## The server returned to retrieve the last two dishes from the tray.  The first one was placed in front of Timothy and the last one in front of Benedict.

“For you Sir, our peppered brisket of beef, on a bed of creamy mash potato with beetroot, topped with a garlic and parsley crumb and jus gras.  And lastly, this is our flame grilled fillet of mackerel topped with a butter sauce with fennel, candied ginger, capers and parsley; served with potato gnocchi and a kohlrabi, fennel & bok choi slaw.  Can I get you anything else?” 

Everyone shook their heads that they were fine.  

“Enjoy then!” 

“Okay, he’s gone,” said Timothy. “Let’s get on with it.” 

Donna quickly took her notebook out from underneath her napkin, and Benedict picked up the camera and speedily snapped a photo of each of the dishes. Then the four of them began to taste each of the dishes. 

“Tim, you’ve got the winner,” proclaimed Donna.  “I particularly like the crumb topping on the mashed potatoes.  It’s yummy.” 

“The best part of my main is the gnocchi,” commented Benedict.  “I’m not a fan of the sauce.  It’s got too many components all competing for attention.” 

“I agree,” said Donna.  “The sauce on your fish is too busy.  Thankfully, mackerel is a strong-tasting fish and can stand up to it; but I’m not wild about it.” 

“I think my fish is the tastier out of the two seafood dishes,” declared Wanda.  “It was also perfectly cooked.” 

“I didn’t like that salsa on yours, Donna,” chimed in Timothy.  

“Oh, mine was a disaster in so many ways!” laughed Donna.  “The marinade of olive oil, lemon, maple syrup and chili was like a train wreck.” 

“The chef had a heavy hand with the chili as well,” added Timothy.  “I don’t mind a little heat; but that was enough to warm my mouth through the winter. Yours was my least favourite dish, Donna.” 

Donna nodded and pushed her plate away.  “I think I’ve had enough.” 

“Have some of mine then,” said Benedict.  “I’ll just eat the chicken out of yours.” 

“Oh dear, this doesn’t fair well if you want to have your wedding breakfast here,” remarked Wanda.  “The menu they had when I had lunch with my friends was much different – and executed far better.” 

“It is a bit disheartening,” agreed Timothy.  “This is the first time we’ve ever had such disappointing mains.” 

“I’m sure they’ll have a different catering menu,” said Donna.  

“I certainly hope so,” said Benedict.  “It’s bad enough our morning didn’t go all that well.” 

“Weren’t you two doing more house hunting this morning?” inquired Wanda. 

“That’s right!  You were looking at two places in Islington.  How did it go?” asked Timothy. 

“Not as well as we had hoped,” replied Donna sadly. 

“They were lovely houses; but when we returned to the realtor’s office and the estate agent did the maths, it became clear that we couldn’t afford either of them,” added Benedict.  

“I was wondering why you two looked so glum when you first got off the lift,” commented Wanda. 

“We thought it was because Ben got lost,” snickered Timothy. 

“What about the other homes you saw over the past few days?” asked Wanda. “Surely one of them was within your price range.” 

“We’re basically priced out of all the areas we’re interested in,” replied Donna. 

“Where else did you look?” asked Timothy.  “I could have told you that Islington was very pricey.” 

“We originally had our hearts set on Hampstead; but there’s no way we could afford a larger place,” replied Benedict.  “Bob and I were so lucky that the guy we were leasing from decided to sell us our flats.” 

“There were some nice homes in Chelsea and Notting Hill; but the prices were also out of our range!” Donna lamented.  “All the fun has gone out of it.” 

“Actually, we could afford Notting Hill if we fancied living in a much smaller flat than the one I’m in now,” added Benedict.  “It was very disheartening.” 

“What about Kensington?” inquired Wanda. 

“We could never afford to live where we are now, Pet,” said Timothy.  “The area has gentrified since we bought our flat.  Remember how shocked we were when Toni told us what it was worth?” 

Wanda nodded.  “Have you considered moving to the outskirts of London – in the suburbs?” 

Benedict shook his head.  “We both already discussed this and prefer to remain in London.”

 “So, we’re both going to stay where we are for the time being and keep saving our pennies,” laughed Donna.  “I’ve got Marco’s apartment until the end of next year, so I’m going to stay put. Then I’ll move my meager belongings into Benedict’s place in November and we’ll just play it by ear. It’s the only sensible thing to do for now.” 

“We’ll be fine in my flat until the time comes to start a family. Actually, we could manage living there with one child.  The problem becomes what to do  once another one comes along.” 

“Hopefully, you’ll be able to save up some of your _Sherlock_ pay,” said Wanda.  “And if it leads to bigger and better things for you, Ben; I’m sure you two will be able to resume with your search.” 

“Let’s hope you’re right, Mum,” said Benedict Cumberbatch.  “In the interim, is everyone ready for pudding before we meet with the wedding planner?”

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just saying thank you to all my lovely readers - both new and those who have been there from the start! I appreciate the kudos and any comments.


	154. Chapter 154

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Benedict and Donna make a decision regarding the Kensington Roof Gardens. Wanda warns Donna about potential trouble at the Mayfair Hotel. 
> 
> Note: I’ll be using *************** for things happening at the same time.

 

 

Benedict Cumberbatch and Donna Saint James stood huddled together at the end of the Kensington Roof Garden’s Spanish Garden, facing towards the sun pavilion.  It was late afternoon and the sun was starting to set in the west, casting a golden glow over the rooftop oasis as a stiff breeze blew from the north. Donna smiled as one of the pink flamingos crossed the path in front of them, seemingly headed towards the Woodland Garden.  She could hear the water splashing in the long, narrow fountain that ran the length of the Spanish Garden. 

“So what do you think after meeting with the wedding planner?” ventured Benedict. 

“My first impression still hasn’t changed. It’s really beautiful up here; so tranquil and peaceful.” 

Benedict hugged himself as the breeze ruffled his curly auburn hair. “You forgot to mention that it’s also cold as hell.” 

“I thought I heard your teeth chattering.” 

“We’d have to hope for a relatively calm day – literally and figuratively.” 

“Mmmm…a breeze like this would ruin my hair for sure.” 

“It’s such a shame that it’s winter, and you couldn’t see all the flowers in bloom.  It’s utterly spectacular up here in the spring and summer.” 

“I wish I could have seen the gardens in full or even partial bloom.  There’s not much to see this time of year - especially once it gets dark.” 

“They do have outside lighting, but I find it much more impressive during the daylight hours.”  

As if on cue, the outdoor lighting began to come in, partially illuminating the gardens. 

Donna started to laugh.  “Did you have something to do with that?” 

“Nope.  I wish I did though.”  Benedict watched the flamingo disappear from sight into the Woodland Gardens. “I’ve never been especially fond of it getting dark so early. It seems we scarcely have any daylight this time of year.” 

“It does take some getting used to. Well, we would have daylight during most of the reception.  It doesn’t get dark until four.” 

“True.  It would give everyone time to have a wander around the gardens in between courses.” 

Donna shivered. “I was just thinking that we can’t really expect our guests to be milling about out here in the cold.  Look how cold it’s getting, and the sun hasn’t fully set yet.” 

“The wedding planner mentioned something about radiant heaters scattered about for those hearty souls who dare to brave the cold,” chuckled Benedict. 

“I’m beginning to think this place is better suited to fair weather weddings.” 

“To be honest, Donna, I find it far lovelier up here in the spring and summer when all the flowers are in bloom, and you can catch their scent as you walk from section to section.” 

“There will only be the evergreens we see now, though the wedding planner said they do decorate the grounds for Christmas.” 

“She meant that they’ll string up a few strands of white fairy lights in the trees.  There’s no chance it will be mistaken for the lights of Oxford Street.” 

“Hmmm…I was hoping for something more festive than some white lights wound through the bushes and trees.” 

“You have to admit it’s still the most unique wedding venue you’ve ever seen – after Disney, of course.” 

“Oh, this beats Disney by a landslide!” 

Benedict put his hand over his heart and took a step backwards.  “For fucks sake!  I’m in shock!” 

“Stop teasing me, Ben.  I was being serious.” 

“What do you _really_ think, Love?” 

Donna hesitated.  “I’m not completely convinced that this is the right venue for us.  What do you think?” 

“I think you sound a bit leery.” 

“That’s because I am.  Aren’t you?” 

“Yeah, I’m actually more than a bit. Are you leery because the food was rubbish?” 

“Rubbish is too kind.  Most of it was crap, as you and your parents can attest to.” 

“I can’t wait to read your review then,” snickered Benedict.  “I adore your snarky reviews.” 

“Whatever venue we choose has to have food that the guests will remember – for all the right reasons.” 

Benedict nodded.  “Agreed.  I’ve been at wedding breakfasts that served God-awful food.”  

“So have I.  There’s nothing worse than going in search of an all-night diner for a burger after the reception is over.” 

“We also can’t allow ourselves to be seduced by the setting alone.” 

“That’s the hard part.  It really is so beautiful up here, Benedict.” 

“I realize that.  What did you think of the wedding planner’s suggestion to have dinner in a marquee set up in the Tudor Garden?” 

“I’m not wild about tents to begin with – unless they’re open on all sides, and it’s nice out.” 

“That rather lends itself to a spring or summer wedding then.” 

“I think I’d prefer to have it inside the restaurant.  At least the windows overlook the gardens.  The tent doesn’t.  It’s closed off except for the garden walls.  I’m worried that it would be drafty.” 

“You weren’t listening to the wedding planner then.  She specifically said that the marquee will be heated.  I think you had tuned her out due to your dislike of marquees.” 

“The wedding planner has a name you know.” 

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck.  “Erm…it was a month if I recall.  April?  June?” 

“Close.  It’s May."

"May.  I was close.  I knew it was a spring-ish sounding name."

"Perhaps we could consider having the cocktail hour outside in the tent instead of the dinner.  People can stroll around the gardens and take photographs while it’s still daylight. Then once it’s time for dinner, everyone can move indoors.”  

“True,” said Benedict, pulling Donna closer to him.  “That could work. However, you sound more and more as if you're trying to convince yourself this is the right venue for us."

"That's because I am.  I'm so torn, Ben."

"I wish we could have tasted some of the catering before making any sort of commitment.” 

“May specifically said there would be a menu tasting once we signed the contract and put down a deposit.” 

“To be frank, Donna, I’m not thrilled with that idea after having had that abominable lunch.” 

“I’m definitely not on board with the marquee for the dinner.  You can’t see the gardens from there.  To me the whole purpose of having our reception up here is so our guests can enjoy the gardens.” 

“In order to appreciate them properly, we need to have a spring or summer wedding.” 

Donna nodded and linked her arm with his as they strolled over to look at the long, narrow fountain. 

“If we had the reception indoors, we still can’t have everything in the same room.  I’m not used to that.  Our guests would be moving from the cocktail hour room to the dinner room, then to the bar area for music and dancing.” 

“It would give them the opportunity to work up an appetite,” snorted Benedict.  “I thought it was a good suggestion to hold the night do in their bar.” 

“It’s not going to be much of a night do. You heard what May said or was it your turn to tune her out? We have to vacate the premises by three on a Saturday; so they have time to right the dining room so they can begin dinner service at five.  The ceremony is at eleven, so figure on an hour in church, then another hour for photos at Kensington Gardens before we even head over here. That doesn’t give us much time for a leisurely dinner!” 

“I’ve no intention of rushing through the dinner, and we’re not changing the date so we can have it on a Sunday.” 

“Have you noticed that there’s not much to see out here once it gets dark, even with the lighting,” observed Donna. 

Benedict stopped and turned Donna to face him.  His ice blue eyes were boring into her under the lighting fixture they were stood under.  “Let’s stop trying to talk ourselves into this and be completely honest and realistic. This isn’t going to work out for us, is it?” 

“It doesn’t look that way does it?” 

“We might as well just sort it out once and for all then.  I say we go back inside and tell May we’ve decided against having our wedding breakfast here.” 

Donna nodded. “Agreed. I’ll delete the Roof Gardens off my spreadsheet.” 

“Let’s get out of here then.  I’m freezing my bits off.” 

“Oh, we can’t have that, Mr. Cumberbatch!  We need those bits in prime working order for future generations,” giggled Donna as she pulled him by the hand back towards the restaurant.  

 

**************************************************

  

Wanda and Timothy were stood at the other end of the garden, as they observed Donna and Benedict talking underneath one of the outdoor lamps.  

“I wish those two would make up their bloody minds and come back already,” scowled Timothy.  “It’s gotten so motherfucking cold up here!” 

“I sense they’re just about done,” said Wanda.  

“I sense they must be as grumpy and cold as we are by now.” 

“Hells bells, Timothy!  You’re cold and grumpy.  I’m just cold.” 

“May I ask why in the fuck are we stood out here in this biting wind then like two dolts?  Even the wedding planner had the good sense to go back inside!” 

“May said she had another appointment.” 

“Bollocks! She just didn’t fancy standing out here waiting for our son and his fiancée to inspect every inch of the bloody garden with a fine tooth comb. Even the birds have since disappeared into where ever it is they go to keep warm - that’s how damn cold it’s gotten.  Part of me really hopes that they don’t opt for the marquee outdoors.” 

“The wedding planner specifically said it was heated, Tim.” 

“I’m chilled to the bone.  Let’s go inside and have a hot buttered rum at the bar whilst we wait for them to finish discussing whatever it is they’re waffling on about.” 

Wanda regarded her shivering husband.  “You know, that sounds brilliant right about now.”  She cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted towards Benedict and Donna.  “BEN!  WE’RE GOING INSIDE!  MEET US AT THE BAR WHEN YOU’RE DONE!” 

“Here they come,” said Timothy as Donna suddenly pulled Benedict by the hand and they started back towards them.  

“Shall we wait for them to catch up with us?” 

“You can feel free to wait, Pet.  I’m going inside to get us a table by the fireplace.  I’ll be the warm one sat in the bar sipping a hot buttered rum.” 

 

*******************************************************

  

“I’m glad we were able to sort this out quickly,” said Benedict as his mother’s voice traveled across the garden to reach them. 

“BEN!  WE’RE GOING INSIDE!  MEET US AT THE BAR WHEN YOU’RE DONE!” 

“I guess my parents are also feeling the chill,” he said, as they hurried towards Wanda and Timothy. 

“Your dad just went back inside.  He must be too cold.” 

“I’m cold so I can only imagine how cold he must be.  He told me that the older he gets, the more he feels it.” 

“You’re always cold.  That’s a given, Ben Honey.” 

“I notice that you’re wrapped up warm,” snickered Benedict.  “Hat, gloves, and a very nice scarf.” 

Donna smiled at him.  “Someone very dear to me gave me this beautiful scarf.  It’s very warm, and I never leave the house on cold days without it.” 

Benedict returned the smile.  “It warms my heart to see you wearing it.” 

“Oh, oh – look! Your mom just went inside, too.  She must be cold as well.” 

“Mum’s like you.  She rarely feels the cold.  I think it’s more akin to the promise of a hot drink that has enticed her back inside.”

 

 

 

Thirty minutes later; the four were ensconced within a booth inside the Goat Tavern on Kensington High Street, which overlooked the entrance to Kensington Palace Gardens. 

“So how do you fancy our local, Donna?” asked Timothy.  “This pub is well over three hundred years old with most of the original features having been preserved.” 

“The pub's cellars have tunnels, which originally led into the Palace grounds,” added Benedict.  “I’m also certain they’ve been long since closed off.” 

“It has lots of charm and the smells coming from the kitchen are intoxicating,” replied Donna, as she took in her surroundings.  “It’s very quaint and cozy.” 

“It was a genius idea to come here, Dad,” said Benedict.  

“Well, I felt it made more sense to have a wander over here than to spend any more time at a place you had no intention of booking your wedding breakfast at.  Not to mention the barkeep was stingy with his liquor.” 

“May seemed very disappointed that she didn’t make a sale,” observed Donna.  

“There was no way in hell we were booking our wedding breakfast there,” said Benedict.  “I just hope you two also understand our reasoning behind our decision.” 

“I thought your reasons for not booking were very sound ones,” declared Timothy. 

“I couldn’t believe this was the same kitchen that prepared such a lovely lunch for my friends and me,” said Wanda.  “Tim and I have gone there several times as well with nary a complaint.  I can’t wait to tell Judi and Diana.” 

“You can always wait and let them read about it in Donna’s column on Sunday, Mother.” 

“Oh!  Now, that is a brilliant idea!” agreed Wanda.  

“Thank you for stopping into the Orangery with us,” Donna said to Wanda and Timothy.  “At least we found out that they can’t accommodate us on that date; so we can cross it off our list.” 

“We had to walk right past it on the way here, so it was no bother at all,” said Timothy.  

“I don’t know about anyone else; but I’m feeling peckish,” announced Wanda. 

“Me, too!” agreed Donna.  “I don’t think any of us ate much lunch; so I could eat an early dinner.” 

“The food here is straight pub grub,” explained Benedict.  “Nothing fancy.” 

“Excellent!  That’s just what I’m in the mood for,” said Donna, perusing the menu.  “The lamb shank shepherd’s pie sounds intriguing.” 

“That’s my tried and true favourite,” announced Wanda, pushing her sleeves up over her elbows.  “I adore how the lamb shank is surrounded by even more minced lamb. The minted mash topping is sheer genius and goes so well with the lamb.” 

“So, two lamb shepherd’s pies," said Benedict. "Dad, what do you fancy?” 

“Bangers and mash for me, please; and a pint to wash it down,” replied Timothy. 

“What are you having, Benedict?” inquired Donna. 

“Is there something you’d like me to try on your behalf?” 

“No. I’m not going to review this meal. What’s your favorite dish here?”  

_That remains to be seen.  Fifty/fifty she winds up reviewing it for a future column._

“I usually order the chicken and mushroom pie.  It comes with mash and veggies.  Shall I order myself one and you can sample it?” 

Donna nodded.  “Yes, please.  I was on the fence as to whether or not to get that; but you’ve solved my dilemma.” 

“Well done me,” snorted Benedict. “I’ll go and place the order then.  Pints all around as well yes?” 

Everyone nodded their agreement as Benedict started to get to his feet. 

“So, do you two have any other wedding breakfast venues to check out?” asked Wanda. 

“Wednesday night we’re going over to check out the options at the Mayfair Hotel,” replied Donna.  “As a matter of fact, their events planner sent me a text message while we were having lunch to confirm our seven o’clock appointment.”  

Benedict chuckled.  “I get the hint.  Don’t worry; I’ll be there on time.  Let’s meet in the hotel bar.” 

_Little does he know that our appointment is actually for seven thirty. So he has a shot at being on time,_ thought Donna, as her text chime went off. 

“Please excuse me. That may be my editor.  We’ve been playing phone tag all day.” 

“Sure,” said Benedict. 

“So you’re considering having your wedding breakfast at the Mayfair yes?” asked Timothy.  

“Isn’t that a rather posh venue?” chimed in Wanda.  “I thought you fancied something a little more laid back.” 

“It's not any posher then Kenwood House,” replied Benedict. “Considering many of our original candidates aren’t working out, Mum; we decided to try one of the major hotels.  I’ve been to events at the Mayfair, and I thought they did a lovely job.” 

_The Mayfair!_   _Hells bells!  Of all places!  The mere thought of that woman still leaves a bitter taste in my mouth,_ thought Wanda angrily. 

Timothy frowned at Wanda as he ran his hand through his silver hair. _Didn’t I suggest to my wife that she should wait to offer her comments until asked?  For fucks sake!  Wanda certainly seems to have a bee in her bonnet concerning the Mayfair, which I don’t understand.  It’s a magnificent venue!_

“I’m sure the staff at the Mayfair would do a perfectly splendid job,” said Timothy, side-eyeing Wanda.  “However, that’s up to you and Donna, of course, Son.” 

“Let me place our order in the meantime.” As Benedict turned to go, Donna reached out and grabbed his elbow.  

“Damn!  Wouldn’t you know it?”  She exclaimed with annoyance while gesturing to her cellphone. 

Benedict sat back down.  “Know what?” 

“This is just our rotten luck!” 

“Fancy filling me in on what’s making you so stropy all of a sudden?  Is it Eric?” 

“No. I just got another text message from the Mayfair’s events planner informing me that something unexpected came up, and she won’t be there to meet with us Wednesday night.” 

Benedict put an arm around Donna and kissed her on the cheek.  “No worries, Love.  I know you’re as anxious as I am to get our wedding breakfast venue sorted; but we can always reschedule for another evening.” 

“Wait…this may actually work out after all. She said the hotel’s Manager will be able to meet with us in her place.” 

Neither of them saw Wanda blanch considerably at Donna’s words.  

_Of all the people who work at that bloody hotel, and she’s the one who’s going to meet with them!_

“I hope to hell he or she is qualified to discuss wedding planning,” sighed Benedict.  “I don’t fancy having our time wasted by someone who doesn’t really know the ropes.” 

“Okay, this may not be so bad after all, Ben Honey.   She said not to worry as the Manager got her start as a wedding planner there and is perfectly capable of showing us around and going over things with us.” 

“Brilliant!  That’s a load off my mind.” 

Wanda sputtered and nearly choked on the piece of gum she had been chewing. 

“Pet, are you alright?” asked Timothy worriedly. “Ben, get your mother some water without ice.  All the damn glasses are filled to the brim with ice – quick as you can now!” 

Donna gazed around the table guiltily.  _That was my fault for asking the barkeep for a lot of ice in my water when we first came in.  He gave it to everyone._

Wanda spat out the gum into a paper serviette and nodded.  “No!  I mean, yes.  I’m actually fine.  I don’t want any blasted water!”  _  
_

_Oh, no!  This is horrible!  They can’t go there!_ Wanda grabbed Timothy’s hand and squeezed it as hard as she could underneath the table.  

Timothy felt a stab of pain in his arthritic knuckles and glared at his wife. 

_For fucks sake!  What could be wrong with Donna and Ben going around to the Mayfair Hotel? I’ve never seen Wanda this upset in quite a while._

Donna noticed that her future mother-in-law looked pale and seemed agitated. “Are you _sure_ you’re okay, Wanda?  You look very pale.”    

“Donna’s right, Mum.  You really do look out of sorts,” said a concerned Benedict.  “Let me call Mark.  I’m pretty sure he still has office hours or I’m sure he wouldn’t mind meeting us at the flat.” 

“Please don’t bother Mark.  I’m just frightfully thirsty is all.” 

“Drink some water why don’t you?” suggested Benedict, indicating the glasses on the table. 

“That water is too cold.  I’d rather have a nice pint.  Why don’t you go fetch them?” 

“I’d feel better if you’d let Mark check you over, Mum.” 

Wanda impatiently shooed Benedict in the direction of the bar.  “No doctor!  _Please_!  Off you go then, Ben!  I’ll be fine once I’ve had something to drink.” 

“Be right back,” said Benedict as he reluctantly headed towards the bar to place their order.  “Text my mobile if you need me,” he said to Donna in a low voice. 

“Let me help you carry the drinks,” offered Timothy as he started to get up. 

“No, Dad.  They’ll give me a tray.  Stay with Mum.” 

As soon as Benedict was out of earshot, Timothy examined his hand.  His knuckles were all red from Wanda’s squeezing it.  “Aren’t you the strong one,” he quipped under his breath. 

“Oh my gosh, Tim!  Are you okay?” asked Donna, eyes wide.  “Did you bang your hand on something underneath the table?” 

“No, but I think I’m the one who’s in need of a bloody doctor!  You nearly broke my motherfucking hand!” he snarled at Wanda. 

“I’m so sorry, Tim!  I never meant to hurt you,” cried Wanda.  “I only meant to get your attention.” 

“And got it you did.  Well, done!” Timothy grimaced. 

Donna opened her handbag and removed the collapsible ice pack.  She took a spoon and scooped the ice out of the glasses into the pack.  “Here, Tim, this will help with the redness and any swelling.” 

_This is one of those times when I’m grateful that my future daughter-in-law is always prepared, bless her,_ thought Timothy, as he accepted the pack and placed it on his injured hand.  “Thank you, Donna.” 

Donna pulled out a small bottle of over-the-counter pain relief medication. “Would you like to take an Advil?  It will help with the pain.” 

“Thank you, I think I will,” replied Timothy. 

Donna gave him two tablets, and Timothy chased them down with some of the water. Then he turned his attention back to Wanda. 

“Now, what in the hell was all that about anyway?” he demanded. 

Wanda stared at him as if he had grown two heads.  “I can’t believe you haven’t a clue!” 

“Well, actually, I’ve gotten the idea that you don’t particularly fancy Donna and Ben having their wedding breakfast at the Mayfair; but I wish I knew why.” 

“Is there something wrong with the Mayfair?” asked Donna in horror. "Is the food bad?  Do they not deliver on their promises?" 

Wanda sighed heavily.  “No.  There’s nothing wrong with the Mayfair per se.  It’s the woman you’re going to see Wednesday night who concerns me deeply.” 

Donna glanced in the direction of the bar.  Benedict smiled from his place in the bar queue and winked at her.  She smiled at him and winked back. 

“Mrs. Collingwood?  Have you met her? What’s wrong with her?”  Donna asked, turning back to Wanda with mounting concern. 

“Where would you like me to begin?” 

Timothy frowned and studied her wife.  “How about at the beginning as I haven’t a clue as to what you’re going on about either, Wanda!” 

Wanda barked out a laugh.  “I can’t believe you’ve forgotten already, Timothy! Why it was only March when we went around to Quince to…” 

Donna watched as Timothy’s face suddenly clouded over with realization.  He and Wanda exchanged frightened glances. 

“Oh…for fucks sake.” 

“Yes.” 

“I did my best to put the whole incident out of my mind.” 

“And you’ve apparently done a brilliant job of it.” 

“We don’t know if it’s the same person for certain, Pet.  These grand hotels change their staff all the time.  Did the event planner give you the name of the person you and Ben will be seeing, Donna?” 

“Might her name be Samantha Alden-Thomas?” ventured Wanda, with crossed fingers. 

“No.  That isn’t it,” responded Donna, as she consulted her cellphone. “We’re to ask for Mrs. Collingwood.” 

Timothy and Wanda exchanged glances and let out a collective sigh of partial relief. 

“Thank God!” exclaimed Wanda.  “It’s not the same person.” 

“She may have gotten married,” said Donna. 

“I doubt such a cow would find someone foolish enough to marry the likes of her,” scoffed Wanda. 

“Let’s not be overly confident,” warned Timothy.  “Samantha Alden-Thomas was the General Manager.” 

“The events planner just said she was the manager,” confirmed Donna. 

“These hotels have a General Manager, a Day Manager and a Night Manager,” explained Timothy.  “We don’t know which one you and Ben are seeing.  For all we know, Samantha Alden-Thomas might very well still be the General Manager and you're to see the Night Manager or the Day Manager.” 

“She could have married as I said before,” pointed out Donna. 

“That’s true, and even if she is still there; we would have no way of knowing what her schedule is,” said Timothy.   “It could be the Night Manager that they’re meeting with.” 

“I’m certain she only worked during the day,” said Wanda. “These hotels always have a Night Manager.  I’m sure it’s the Night Manager you two are going to meet with. There’s no way you could possibly come across her.” 

“Hopefully,” said Timothy evenly.  “And what if she just happens to be on that night for some odd reason and recognizes Ben from his photograph?  You never know – what if she decides to say hello.  People do strange things like that.” 

“Hells bells!  Then we’re busted!” cried Wanda, banging the table with her fist. 

“That’s putting it mildly, Commander.” 

Donna jumped at Wanda’s explosive outburst and looked from her to Timothy.  “What’s wrong with her?”  

“Plenty,” snapped Timothy. “It’s too risky if they go, Wanda.  She might be there.”

_Good gravy!  Wanda and Tim are waffling like Benedict over this woman. I've never seen them in such a panic._

“What risk? Does this woman know Benedict from a play she saw him in?  Did they date and it ended badly?  I’m confused as to what the problem is,” said a perplexed Donna. 

“You and Ben can’t keep that appointment, Donna, especially if it’s with the Day or General Manager,” declared Wanda.  “Tim’s right.  There’s too much here at stake!  You must change it to a night when the Night Manager is definitely on.” 

“Pardon me, if this does sound more than a little paranoid,” began Donna.  “Isn’t it going to sound strange if I call the hotel to ask if there are any evenings that the Night Manager has off so we can narrow it down? What in the hell happened that was so bad that you don’t want Ben and me to come across this Samantha Alden-Thomas?” persisted Donna. 

“Let’s just say we had a difference of opinion over lunch,” scoffed Wanda with a toss of her head. 

Timothy snorted.  “Wanda took offense when she basically said that Benedict wasn’t her cup of tea.  Thankfully, I was at my own table when it happened.” 

_The cunt said a lot more than that, but there’s no need to go down Memory Lane,_ thought Timothy. 

“Some help you were! You were sat there blissfully eating your chocolate cake and having a coffee, pretending that you didn’t know me!” 

“Why were you having lunch with her?” pressed Donna.  

Timothy turned and craned his neck towards the bar.  “Ben’s being waited on now.  You’d best give Donna an abbreviated version of our story. Quick as you can now!” 

Donna’s mouth dropped open.  “You said she might recognize Benedict from his photo!  Was she one of the girls you showed his photo to during your quest for the perfect daughter-in-law?” 

“Samantha Alden-Thomas was one of the more promising birds who responded to my Craigs List ad.  I arranged for us to meet over lunch at Quince Restaurant for the interview,” replied Wanda.  “I had no idea she was going to turn out to be such a snobbish twat.” 

“So, you interviewed others besides me?” blurted out Donna. 

“Yes! Of course I did,” replied Wanda.  “Blimey, Donna! Did you think that you were the only one?” 

“Well, actually, yes.  I did,” replied Donna with disappointment.  “Exactly how many other women did you two interview?” 

“I can’t recall the exact number,” replied Wanda slowly as she went over the list in her mind. 

“It was quite an impressive number,” chimed in Timothy.  “There were over fifty responses.” 

“It was fifty-seven,” confirmed Wanda proudly. “However, we didn’t interview each and every one in such depth.  Some of those birds were right daft and needed to be weeded out!  Tim, do you remember that dumb dolly bird, who insisted her mother was psychic.” 

“No.” 

“Of course you do.” 

“If you say I do, then I must; but you need to refresh my recollection.” 

“She wanted to do our family’s astrological charts to see if she and Ben would be a good fit?” 

“Oh, yes!  There are some things I’d rather forget,” sighed Timothy.  

“So how many girls _did_ you interview?” asked Donna. 

“I’d say she interviewed twenty of them easy,” said Timothy.  “The day Wanda met you in the Orangery, we had already interviewed two others – one over breakfast and the other over lunch.” 

Wanda nodded.  “I definitely interviewed at least twenty.  I still have their resumes.” 

“That’s pretty dangerous, don’t you think?” asked Donna with a raised eyebrow.  “What if Benedict were to come across them?  He loves to snoop around, bless his nosy little heart.” 

“I destroyed all the tangible paperwork and covered my tracks on our PC long since then. Everything is saved on a CD, which resides in our safe deposit box, far from Barrister Ben’s prying eyes,” explained Wanda.  “So there’s nothing to worry about.” 

“Why would you keep all that on a CD if Ben and I are together and your mission accomplished?” 

“Yes, why _did_ you decide to keep all that?” asked Timothy with a sneer.  

_You right bastard, Timothy Cumberbatch!_   Thought Wanda angrily.   “In case things didn’t work out between you and Benedict,” she admitted in a small voice, as she looked down at the table top. 

Donna looked as if she’d been smacked in the face.  “Are you kidding me? Nothing is _ever_ going to come between us!  Benedict and I are in this for a lifetime!” 

“Or as long as he doesn’t find out about the Plan,” added Wanda.  

“When exactly did you interview this Samantha Alden-Thomas?”

  
“The same day I interviewed you,” replied Wanda.  “She was the second to last bird we interviewed and you were the last.” 

“ _You_ were in charge of the actual interviewing, Commander,” corrected Timothy.  “I only sat nearby so I could listen in.” 

“Oh, I remember that well!” interjected Donna, rolling her eyes.  “I thought you were flirting with Wanda at first…then I became convinced you two were having an affair…and...” 

_There are two things I detest in life,_ thought Timothy.  _When they think; and when they go down Memory Lane!_

“And the rest is history – as they say,” said Timothy abruptly, ending the conversation.  _All this speculation about Day and Night Managers is daft.  I’m just going to ring up the Mayfair and find our who this Mrs. Collingwood is and what her title is.  That will sort out the mystery._ “Excuse me for a moment, I’ll be right back.”   

Wanda and Donna watched as Timothy disappeared and Benedict reappeared in his place with four pints of beer.  

“Where’s Dad?” 

“I believe he went to the gents,” said Wanda. 

“Today’s your lucky day, Miss Saint James,” laughed Benedict placing a cold pint of beer in front of Donna.  “I remembered to check if they had cold beer on tap.” 

Donna took a sip.  “Ah!  That’s much better! Thank you!” 

“Ben, are you also drinking yours cold now?” Wanda asked Benedict, noting the condensation on his glass.  

Benedict nodded and drank some of his beer.  “Yep.  Donna’s converted me.  You should give it a try, Mum.  It’s very refreshing.” 

Timothy returned to the table and slid into the booth beside Wanda.  He drank some of his beer and smacked his lips.  “Now, that hits the spot!” 

Wanda reached out and touched her husband’s pint.  “Bloody hell!  Since when did you start drinking cold beer?” 

Timothy smiled shyly.  “I’ve been drinking it cold ever since Donna convinced me to give it a go.” 

“So what were you all talking about whilst I was up at the bar?” asked Benedict, looking pointedly at each of his table-mates with his ice blue eyes coming to rest on his fiancée.  “The lot of you all looked so somber – upset even.” 

_Jeez Louise!  He misses nothing!_ Thought Donna.  

“We were talking about the new law Parliament wants to pass,” said Timothy. 

“What law is this?  I’ve neither heard nor read anything about a new law, Dad.” 

“Oh, isn’t that the barkeep waving you over?” Donna asked him.  "The food must be ready."

“And so it is.  I’ll be right back.” 

“What new law _are_ you talking about?” Wanda asked Timothy. 

“There isn’t one.  I just said that to throw Barrister Ben off the scent,” explained Timothy.  “Now, for the good news:  I just rang up the Mayfair, and am chuffed to report that there is no Samantha Alden-Thomas employed there, according to the bird who answered the phone.  Mrs. Collingwood is the General Manager, who obviously took her place.” 

Wanda sagged against Timothy and let out an exclamation of relief.  “Thank God!  I was so worried that you and Ben would come across her.” 

“See, there’s absolutely nothing to worry about, Pet,” said Timothy, taking her hand in his own and kissing the back of it. “We all began to panic for nothing.” 

“I was terrified that you would run into Samantha Alden-Thomas and Benedict would remember her.” 

“Do you really think Benedict would recognize her?” asked Donna. 

Timothy and Wanda fixed her with a look. 

“Ben may have been across the room having lunch with John Grant; but I assure you that he was taking it all in. He witnessed the interview end with a bang – literally,” replied Timothy. 

“It was nothing,” insisted Wanda.  “Just a little difference of opinion.” 

Timothy let out a bitter laugh.  “You tipped over the fucking table when you flounced off in a full-scale huff!  Donna, you should have seen it!  Broken crystal stemware and shattered china flying in all directions!” 

“Jesus,” breathed Donna. 

“Oh, stop making it sound so dramatic, Timothy!  Don’t pay him any mind!” 

“Oh, but it was!  You made such a dramatic exit – all eyes in the dining room were on you - including Ben’s.” 

“I told Ben it was just a minor disagreement, which is really was.” 

“Well, I beg to differ, Pet. I remember it a bit differently.”

“So what exactly happened at that interview to cause you to hold such hostility towards her?” asked Donna. 

Wanda and Timothy exchanged glances and shrugged. 

“The abbreviated version is that we met her at one of the Mayfair’s restaurants,” began Wanda.  “As soon as she swept into the room and began to berate our waiter for giving us poor service, which he hadn’t, I knew she was going to be a right force to be reckoned with.” 

“And she proved to be a formidable foe for my wife,” added Timothy.  “And to add insult to injury, Benedict was also there having lunch with his agent.” 

“And was very curious as to what was going on as you can imagine,” said Wanda. 

“Oh, I can imagine,” laughed Donna. 

“Anyway, I had led Ben to believe that I was in the process of trying to negotiate a book deal to write my memoirs.  Later on under intense cross-examination, I wound up telling him that Samantha Alden-Thomas was my literary agent.” 

“My God!  That’s some elaborate cover story!” exclaimed Donna.  "Benedict did mention that you might be working on a book deal awhile back, but he never elaborated further about it.  I guess he's since forgotten." 

"If there's one thing Ben doesn't do - it's forget.  Don't worry, Donna, he will get back to it sooner or later.  The Barrister misses nothing.  He may not follow up right away; but I assure you one day he will," said Wanda sadly.

"I can't believe how you managed to fool Benedict all this time!" said Donna.

“The Commander is quite adept when it comes to deception, Donna; quipped Timothy.  “Anyway, as Wanda already said, we could see straight off that Ms. Alden-Thomas wasn’t going to get on with our Benedict.” 

Timothy thought back to the conversation in Quince as Wanda began to relay the incident to Donna:

  

**Wanda had handed Samantha a copy of the NDA. It had taken her all of ten minutes to read it over.**  
  
"This looks to be in order," said Samantha briskly as she signed the papers and gave Wanda back her copy.   
  
"Thank you." Wanda tucked the paper in her tote. "Now, do you have experience running a household?"   


**Samantha gestured to her surroundings and laughed as if Wanda had lost her mind. "Well, I** _am_ the General Manager of the May Fair Hotel. If I can run a hotel, I can certainly manage a household." She smiled condescendingly.  
  
"How many children would you want?"  
  
"Two would be my limit. Spaced two years apart."  
  
"Would you stay at home with them? My son is often away on business."  
  
"Heavens, no! That's what live-in nannies and boarding schools are for!" laughed Samantha. "I would never dream of giving up my job."  
  
"Do you cook, Samantha?"  
  
Again Samantha had laughed. "Only when I absolutely have to. So, let's say for our purposes I cook upon request!" She gave Wanda a conspiratorial wink.  “Does your son cook?"  
  
"Oh, yes. He even has a small repertoire of recipes."  
  
"Right." Samantha leaned across the table conspiratorially. "So, just between you and me...why _are_ you interviewing prospective mates for your son? What's wrong with him? I can deal with some defects, but let's have it up front."  
  
Wanda sat up straight and bristled. _"Excuse me?_ There is nothing wrong with my son! He's very busy so I'm giving him a hand! May I ask why you answered my ad? What's wrong with you?"  
  
Samantha had looked taken aback. She blushed but quickly recovered.  
  
"It's the same with me. I'm too busy to go out and meet anyone. I thought this way might be faster and easier."  
  
Wanda smiled at her coolly. "Touché."  
  
"What does your son do for a living?"  
  
"He's an actor."  
  
"Is he a working actor?"  
  
"Problem?" asked Wanda, her voice rising dangerously.  
  
"It could be. Let me be frank, Ms. Ventham. I make a very good living, but I have no intention of supporting your son while he sits around waiting for his next job."  
  
"Excuse me, but my son has had steady work since he graduated from LAMDA!" Wanda said haughtily. "He had an agent lined up before graduation. As a matter of fact, he just landed the lead in a new version of Sherlock Holmes."  
  
"May I ask his name?"  
  
"Benedict Cumberbatch."  
  
Samantha giggled. "I'd be embarrassed to be with a man with such an awful name! It is a stage name, isn't it?"  
  
"Cumberbatch is my husband's surname! It's a perfectly fine and noble name. We took great care in choosing the name Benedict to go with it!" Wanda said indignantly, now on the verge of shouting. "We like it very much."  
  
Samantha had sipped her drink thoughtfully. "He'd have to take mine. I'd never go through life as a Cumperbatch."

**  
Wanda grit her teeth. "Cumber _batch_!"**

****  
"Sounds like a vegetable," Samantha said under her breath.  
  
Just then, Timothy had noticed that Benedict's agent, John Grant, was pointing to them and Benedict had turned round to look. They smiled and waved to Timothy, who acknowledged them with a jaunty wave.  
  
Finally Samantha spoke. "I've never heard of him. What has he done?"  
  
Wanda had smiled proudly and cleared her throat. "Since you ask..."  
  
It had taken Wanda over ten minutes to recite everything that Benedict had done to date whilst Timothy sipped his coffee and enjoyed watching Samantha try not to squirm from boredom.  
  
Finally, she held up a hand to silence Wanda. "Right! I believe you, Ms. Ventham. He's a _working_ actor. Do you have a photo?"  
  
"Oh, yes!" Wanda eagerly opened her folder and pulled out Benedict's headshot.  
  
Samantha had taken the photo and was studying it with amusement. She guffawed, looked up and handed the photo back to a surprised Wanda.  
  
"I see the problem now! Your son isn't very good looking, is he? Rather like a horse – such a long face. The eyes are creepy, too – almost preternatural-looking. He should consider fixing those teeth. The lips are very odd...how can I put this?" She wiped her eyes. "Are those tattoos or does he wear makeup? There's something rather unnatural-looking about your son. He's just not my cup of tea – no offense!"  
  
Wanda had been so incensed that she leapt to her feet. The table rocked precariously, causing glassware and china to crash to the floor; shards flew in all directions. All eyes in the dining room were suddenly on them, including Benedict’s.   


 

“…and that’s basically what transpired,” concluded Wanda. 

“She poked fun at my surname and basically said Ben had preternatural eyes, a horse-face and wonky teeth, which sent you into a first-class strop,” elaborated Timothy. 

“The bitch also said Ben looked like he was wearing makeup on his lips  and insinuated that he was going to sponge off of her whilst waiting for acting jobs to come to him!” 

“Hell hath no fury like a mother scorned yes?” said Timothy.

“My God,” breathed Donna. “She sounds horrible!” 

“She was,” confirmed Wanda. 

“The good news is that they never did bill us for the broken crockery and glassware,” laughed Timothy.  

“Holy cow!  No wonder you two are so adamant that Benedict never find out about the Plan.”  _Oh, I’d better make sure Benedict is still up at the bar. It would be awful if he were to catch us talking about him!_

Donna looked towards the bar, but Benedict was nowhere to be seen.  _Crap! Where did he go?_

“What plan?” inquired Benedict, setting down a tray with their food, and plopping down in the booth beside Donna.  

_Where in the fuck did he come from?_ Thought Donna with mounting concern.  _He must have gone around to the left because the tables are too close together on the right now that others have sat down._

_Hells bells! I thought Donna was watching out for him,_ thought Wanda miserably.  _There are times when she’s a dumb little dolly bird._

“What plan indeed? Donna didn’t say plan,” remarked Timothy, distributing the plates. 

“Yes, she did,” insisted Benedict.  “Come on, out with it now.  I definitely heard you all discussing something about a plan.” 

“I didn’t say plan,” Donna said emphatically. _Oh, no!  Now, would be a good time for Wanda or Timothy to come to the rescue with one of their improvisations.  I honestly don’t know what else to say to him!_

“Of course you did!  My hearing is excellent!” scoffed Benedict.  “Stop trying to gaslight me and tell me what the lot of you is being so secretive about all the bloody time!” 

“Why on earth would you think we were being secretive around you, Love?” inquired Wanda, doing her best to appear flabbergasted by her son’s accusation.  

Benedict broke open the crust of this chicken and mushroom pie.  The steam rose, bringing the savoury scent to his nose.  “Perhaps because you _are_ , Mum.  I’ve caught the three of you whispering and huddled together in corners.  Then as soon as I come within earshot, everyone clams up.” 

Donna barked out a laugh.  “ _Really_ , Benedict!  You either have an unbelievably fertile imagination or are becoming paranoid!  No one is talking about you.”  _Too much, anyway._

“Sorry to have to disappoint you, Ben; but I’m going to have to side with Donna,” said Timothy, cutting into one of his sausages.  “She said _plot_ , not _plan_.” 

_Thank you, Tim!  Now, what do I do with this?_ Thought Donna frantically. 

“It’s so very noisy in here, yes?” asked Wanda, forking some of her shepherd’s pie.  “I can understand why you thought Donna said plan rather than plot.  I’ve been having a devil of a time hearing anything.” 

Benedict side-eyed Donna and stared at his mother.  Two pairs of ice blue eyes met across the table.  

_That’s complete and utter bullshit.  You have excellent hearing, Mum.  I remember when you last had your hearing tested and were boasting to anyone who would listen. They really are trying to gaslight me! Why though?_

“Plan and plot sound nothing alike,” persisted Benedict.  

“Sorry to disappoint you, Ben Honey; but I did say plot,” said Donna.  _Plot of what though?_

_Okay.  I’ll go back to the story of writing my memoirs,_ thought Wanda.  _Though Tim’s not supposed to know about it.  I’ll say the deal fell through; so I decided to tell him about it. That should satisfy Barrister Ben._

_OH WAIT!  I’ve got something I can use!_   Thought Donna excitedly. _And it’s not a lie!_

“I was just telling your parents that Giada and I plan to write a cookbook together in the future.” 

Benedict ate some of his pie and drank some beer as he digested Donna’s words.   “Cookbooks don’t have plots.” 

“It’s a literary term,” chimed in Wanda.  “I learnt that whilst I was in talks for the book of my memoirs.” 

“Such a pity that it didn’t come to fruition,” lamented Timothy with feigned sadness.  “I was so chuffed when Wanda confided in me about it; but I suppose the literary agent was right.” 

“Right about what?” demanded Benedict with a frown. 

“That there wouldn’t be much interest in my story,” sighed Wanda with deep disappointment. 

“Your memoirs would have been a hit with the Gramercy Park British Society,” laughed Timothy.  “That would have counted for at least fifty copies sold.” 

“And my Grandpa would have bought several of those fifty for himself,” giggled Donna. 

“The word plot indicates fiction,” said Benedict.  “When I was at Uni, my literary professor, Barbara Baker, specifically said that a plot is the main events of a play, novel or movie. Memoirs and cookbooks are definitely non-fiction.” 

“And you’re a credit to her, bless you,” said Wanda sarcastically. 

“One would have to outline the events of their memoirs,” said Timothy.  “I do believe it could apply to fiction or non-fiction.  Donna’s the writer, let’s ask her then.” 

Benedict raised an eyebrow at Donna.  “Well, then?” 

“It would definitely be a plot in my case, Ben Honey. Giada and I thought we would combine a fictional story along with a cookbook.  We would write it in the first person.  It would be a story about a chef who is writing her first cookbook and becomes embroiled in murders while writing the book.  That way we can incorporate our recipes into the plot.”   

“I think I’ll go to the bar and place our pudding orders,” said Benedict. “Who fancies what?” 

“The chocolate fudge cake with the clotted cream ice cream and a side of custard,” replied Wanda.  “Care to share it with me, Donna? I could never eat the whole slice.” 

Benedict and Timothy glanced at each other across the table and held back their laughter. 

_Yes, you can, Mum.  I’ve witnessed you eating the entire slice all by yourself countless times! All of a sudden you have a dainty appetite in front of Donna._

_What fresh hell is this? My wife can eat two slices of that cake with no problem!  Who is she trying to impress?_

“Oh, yes!  I do love anything chocolate.” 

“Dad, fancy sharing a slice of the lemon meringue pie?” 

Timothy nodded.  “As long as you get a side of the clotted cream ice cream to go with it.  If you’ll all excuse me; I’m going to go outside for a couple of minutes to stretch my legs.  I can feel my back starting to stiffen up.” 

As soon as Donna and Wanda were alone, Donna sighed heavily and leaned back against the booth back. 

“Holy cow!  I don’t know how you and Tim can keep doing this!  It’s enough to make me want to come clean and just tell him everything!” 

“We do it because we have to, Donna.  Our fondest wish is to see you and Benedict happily married.” 

“It’s going to be a very unhappy and brief marriage if he ever finds out.” 

“I thought you said you’ve given up on trying to tell him.” 

“I have.  He got extremely angry during my last attempt, and insisted that whatever happened in our pasts needs to remain there.  As far as he’s concerned, the subject is closed forever.” 

“That sounds good to me.” 

“Unless somehow he finds out, of course.  Then all bets are off!” 

“He did say he didn’t want to know, Love.  You honestly did try and tell him several times now.” 

“That’s what my mom says.” 

“Your mother is a wise woman and brilliant lawyer.”  _That was a bit over blown; but it sounds good._

“My dad, on the other hand, is against keeping the secret; but is doing it only because I asked him to.” 

_Nice to hear the wanker has some good common sense_ , thought Wanda. 

“Donna, that was a brilliant story about Giada and the cookbook.  Well done!” 

Donna smiled at the older woman. “Oh, that wasn’t a story, Wanda.  Giada and I have discussed doing something like that for years now.” 

“Then why not do it now?  Is it because you wouldn’t have time to devote to your column?” 

“I want to hold off because I always thought it would be a good project for when the time comes, and I can be a stay-at-home mom; only Benedict’s career would have to be much more stable than it is now.” 

“I’m sure Ben would only be too happy to take on extra jobs if he knew it would speed up the realization of his dream of having a family.  I know that Tim and I always say acting isn’t the most stable of careers; but you can’t keep certain things on the back burner forever – like children.” 

“I would never pressure Benedict to take work he didn’t want, Wanda.” 

“What about your column?  Surely, that’s too good to give up!” 

“Oh, I love writing my column, and it’s something I could keep doing even with kids; but this is all in the future for now. Benedict and I will find a way to make it work; but right now, it’s just something that I keep in the back of my mind.” 

Wanda Ventham smiled at Donna Saint James.  “If _Sherlock_ takes off like I think it will, that cookbook will become a reality sooner than you think, Love.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. After being sick for the past couple of weeks, I woke up feeling like myself again - so I decided to proofread and post this chapter a day early. 
> 
> 2\. Thank you for to all the new readers who have embarked on this journey with Benedict and Donna. 
> 
> 3\. You may wish to re-read Chapter 14 before the next chapter, which details Wanda and Timothy's disastrous meeting with Samantha Alden-Thomas. If not, the excerpt I used from it, will refresh the memory. 
> 
> 4\. I've never been to either the Kensington Roof Gardens or the May Fair Hotel. All the wedding planning procedures is made up.
> 
> 5\. Not all the food pics are from the Goat Tavern. 
> 
> 6\. I will be posting every other week until I catch up - I fell behind with my writing.


	155. Chapter 155

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Benedict and Donna receive two unexpected surprises. The Neil and Toni Show head to London for the Cumberbatch-hosted Engagement Party. Benedict suffers a mouth filter malfunction. 
> 
> Note: I’ll be using *************** for things happening at the same time.

 

 

Benedict Cumberbatch mounted the steps to his house and was startled when the front door swung open as he was about to insert his key into the lock.  His downstairs neighbor, Bob Larbey, greeted him with a huge smile and handful of mail as he held the door open for Benedict to pass through into their shared foyer.

“Afternoon, Ben!” 

“Jesus Christ, Bob!  You’ve got to stop trying to give me a heart attack.”

“Are you daft?  I would never deny myself the pleasure of surprising you! There’s nothing quite like the expression on your face whenever I open the door before you’re about to unlock it.”

“Well, I’m chuffed as fuck that you’ve gotten your jollies at my expense then,” snickered Benedict.  “Looks like we were popular with the Royal Mail today,” he added, indicating the stack of mail in Bob’s hand.

“I’m afraid you win the popularity contest today, Mate. I’ve just got done sorting through our mail and the postman left the lion’s share for you this time,” Bob chuckled, handing over the pile of mail to Benedict.

“Shit!  Lots and lots of bills I see,” sighed Benedict as he quickly scanned the envelopes.  “Who would have thought that getting married would be so fucking expensive?”

“I thought Donna’s dad was footing the bill yes?”

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck.  “Oh, he is; it’s just all the other things that I keep forgetting to factor in that I can’t ask or expect him to pay for, and they are adding up to a rather impressive amount.”

_Like our wedding rings, Donna’s wedding gift, the gifts for the wedding party, the vicar's fee our honeymoon.  I wish I had thought to budget a bit more carefully._

“I know what you mean.  Sadie and I are going crackers with our own wedding planning.”

“Aren’t you a dapper-looking bloke,” observed Benedict, eyeing Bob in his grey pin-striped suit.  “Going in a bit early today yes?  You’re usually just getting up around now.”

“Yeah, well, I have some errands to run; and I was hoping to run into you before I left.”

Benedict regarded him through narrowed eyes as he rubbed the back of his neck.  “Is there something wrong?” 

_Crap, I hope there’s nothing wrong with the house that needs repairing.  Whenever there’s a problem, Bob begins the conversation with:  I was hoping to run into you before I left._

“No, you can relax, Ben.  The house is fine – if that’s what you were concerned about.”

Benedict laughed nervously.  “I was just thinking that we put on a new slate roof only last year; so what else could there be, you know?”

“If you have some time to spare, Ben, I’d like to talk with you about the house.”

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck as all sorts of reasons began to run through his mind.  “Erm…yeah.  I’ve got nowhere to go. However, you’re making me rather nervous.”

“I guarantee that there’s nothing to get nervous about. Come in, and I promise that you’ll find it time well spent,” smiled Bob with encouragement as he led the way into his ground floor flat.

Benedict sat on one of the deep, comfy leather armchairs in Bob’s lounge.  The ground floor flat was laid out almost exactly like his own upstairs, and had its own unique view of Hampstead Heath and the London Skyline. Benedict always secretly felt that his flat had the better views from the upper floors.  The late afternoon sun shone through the stained glass panes in the bay window, making colourful patterns on the wall.

_Bloody hell! He wants to restore the leaded glass panes in the windows or get new ones.  These windows are as old as the house._

“Oh, God.  It’s the windows, isn’t it?  You’re going to propose that we pool our money and replace all the motherfucking windows!”

Bob shook his head.  “Not unless you fancy doing it, because it’ll be very pricey, Mate.”

“No.  I wouldn’t dream of touching them now.”

“Well, I’m glad to know we’re in agreement on that front.”

“So, what’s on your mind then?”

“I wanted you to be the first to know that I intend to sell my half of this house.”

“Why the sudden desire to sell, Bob?”

“Because I’ve decided it’s time for me to move on.”

Benedict blinked and stared at him.  “I had no idea you were thinking of selling.  I thought the plan was for Sadie and her daughters to move in here.”

“As did I, but when we thought it through, it no longer made sense. Both of our jobs are in the City; and the girls would have to share the second bedroom, which is too small for growing girls.  They deserve their own room; so we’ve been looking around for a flat closer to the City.”

“I wish you luck on that.  The City can be very pricey.”

“As we soon found out; but there is a happy ending to this story because Sadie and I have found the perfect flat for us in Barbican.”

“You don’t have to sell you know.  You could lease out your flat for additional income yes?”

“Yeah, I also considered that briefly; but I don’t fancy being an absentee landlord. Not to mention that a renter will never take the same care that an owner will in my opinion.”

“That’s a fine point.”

“Anyway, I’m hoping to sell off my share of the house as soon as possible; so I can be out of here before our wedding in June.”

“I wish Donna and I could find a place.  It’s been a bitch looking around.”

Bob raised his hand. “Now, this is the part that benefits you and Donna. Your house-hunting days are over, Mate.  I’m offering to sell my share of the house to you.”

Benedict appeared genuinely startled by his neighbor’s proposition. 

“ _Really_?”

Bob nodded and smiled at him.  “Yeah, _really_.  I’m willing to sell you my share of this house for three hundred thousand pounds, which is fair market value you’ll find.”

“Three hundred thousand pounds,” repeated Benedict. 

_Three hundred thousand quid is at the lower end of our price range. This offer seems too good to be true.  Donna and I would be able to renovate the place just the way we’d fancy it._

“Yes. I’m asking three hundred thousand, which frankly is a steal for a flat in Hampstead with all the amenities that come with it.”

“Oh, it is.  Donna and I have done our share of looking in the area and found there was nothing to be had in our price range.”

“Hampstead has always been a super pricey area.  You and I were incredibly lucky that our former landlord decided to sell this house to us when he did.  As we’ve both seen, properties in the area have appreciated within the past few years.”  

“Which estate agency did you list with?”

“I haven’t listed it yet; as I wanted you to have first crack at it.  This way I avoid the agent fees, and it will just be less hassle in general.”

“So, this would be a private sale then.”

“Exactly.  I’m sure our solicitors can handle the paperwork and whatever needs to be done.”

“The whole house would be ours,” marveled Benedict.  “The back garden, the garage, both on-street parking spaces.”

“Yes, that’s the idea.  I know how much you want to remain in Hampstead, Ben.  Tell you what: I’ve got to head out to the office now.  Why don’t you ask Donna to come around for a look at my flat whilst I’m at work.  You’ve got an extra key; so feel free to come down anytime.”

“Is there a deadline for letting you know what our decision is?”

“How about by the end of next week?”

“Brilliant.  I’m sure I’ll be back to you much sooner than that.”

 

****************************************************

 

“Wow!  That’s a lot of bread!” exclaimed Donna Saint James, as she perused the provisions order that Emily Peacock had just presented her and Carly with in their office at Carldonn.

Emily laughed nervously. “Isn’t it though?  Maria, Karl and I figured out that’s what we needed based on the head count for cast and crew that Steven Moffat’s assistant emailed us for the first day’s filming."

“Why do they need so many people to film a TV show?” wondered Carly aloud.  “Look at all the stuff they want!”

“I haven’t a bloody clue,” replied Maria, the Executive Chef.  “But there’s one thing I do know:  those thirty-two people who will be working that first day from sun up to sun down are going to be hungry; and it’s our job to feed the lot of them.”

“And feed them something so tasty that they’ll all look forward to their meal breaks!” said Donna. 

“And hopefully tell the show runner about the brilliant choice he made to hire us,” added Karl with a grin. 

"Which will lead to even more business via word of mouth!" chimed in Emily. 

"That's how we got all the local businesses to use us for lunchtime catering," confirmed Maria.  "And them people began to ring us up about doing small private catering gigs."

"How exciting would that be if we were to get other shows to hire us?" asked Emily.

"Whoa!" exclaimed Carly.  "Let's not get crazy here.  We don't even know if we can handle this yet and still make a profit."

Heather made some entries on her calculator and compared the result to the spreadsheet that was open on the office PC screen.  “We could cut some corners, if you’re interested in hearing my ideas?”

“Go on,” said Maria, leaning over the girl's shoulder. 

“Well, they specifically requested a full English breakfast to start off the day’s filming, which we’ve got to stick to.”

“It seems it’s a tradition on the _Dr. Who_ set, which is where?” asked Carly, scratching her head in bewilderment. “I don’t see any mention of a studio to deliver the food to in this email.”

“Most of the indoor stuff is filmed at a studio in Cardiff, which has nothing to do with us.  We’re their London caterers, and they’re starting off this season with a location shoot here in London,” replied Donna, as she consulted the spreadsheet. "Look at this spreadsheet that Emmy printed out:  it's color-coded just like my vacation spreadsheet.  Each location has it's own color."

“We start the day off in Trafalgar Square, which is blue.  Then after a break they’re moving everything over to the London Eye, which is green and where they want dinner served,” said Emily.  “Where do you fancy cutting corners, Heather?”

“Lunch."

"Do you mean we cut back and only offer one hot entree?" asked Donna.  "They specifically requested a choice of two."

"Where are we going to serve this in the middle of the city?" interrupted Karl. 

"There will be a dining trailer most of the time, which will be located at their base camp," replied Donna. "Other times we'll be serving in the great outdoors inside a three-sided tent."

"If you all would read the fucking email, you'd see that they are not moving the dining trailer to the London Eye as they will be back in Trafalgar Square for the night shoot."

"So, we'll be serving lunch in the tent," said Carly.

Emily nodded.  "Everyone will be packing up and on the go; so no one will really have time for a sit down hot meal.  I say we offer soups, salad and sandwiches.”

“The email says that they expect a hot lunch,” Donna reminded them.  “They’re not looking for ham and Swiss on rye.”

“Soup definitely qualifies as hot,” said Maria.  “We can offer hot sarnies as well.  All we need is a couple of panini presses.

“If we go that route, we’re going to need a lot more bread,” said Carly.  “You’ll have to triple that order, Emmy.”

“Will do, Boss.  That’s going to be a lot of bread!”

“Benedict did warn us about the perils of catering for a film crew,” sighed Donna.  “It does sound like a lot when you’re placing the order; but when it arrives…”

“You’ll first see just how fucking overwhelming it’s going to be!” groused Karl, who was leaning against the wall in the small office.

“One requires a lot of bread to make a lot of sandwiches,” Maria, the Executive Chef, reminded him gently. “Honestly, making them two hot entrees and sides would be easier in my opinion.”

Donna’s text chime went off.  She smiled when she saw it was Benedict: 

**Finished recording _Good Evening_ and am home.  Call me as soon as you can.  I’ve got exciting news!  Bxx  **

_So my honey has exciting news.  I wonder what it could be.  Maybe they’ve decided to record additional episodes._

“Excuse me, guys; I’ve got to make a call.  I'll be in the kitchen.”

“Would you mind giving the soups a stir whilst you’re out there?” asked Maria. 

“Sure.”

Donna left the office and hurried into the kitchen.  There were two huge stainless steel pots simmering on the large commercial stove.  One was filled with vegetarian lentil soup and the other held beef and mushroom barley.  Donna quickly placed the call to Benedict’s mobile as she stirred the soups.  He answered on the second ring.

 _“Hello,”_ came Benedict’s deep baritone.

“Hi Honey!  How did everything go?”

_“The director said I was a brilliant Dudley Moore.”_

“Will this lead to anything else?”

_“I doubt it.  It was a one-shot.  Why do you ask?”_

“Because your text message said you have exciting news.”

_“That I do. Actually, I think it belongs in the category of very exciting news.  I’ve been so over the moon ever since I found out!”_

“Do you want to tell me or shall I guess?”

_“Is your meeting almost over?”_

“Nope.  They’re busy debating on what constitutes a lot of bread and why do film crews eat so damn much.”

_“Did I not warn you and Carly?”_

“Yes, you did; and you were right.  I’m actually glad they film in Cardiff the majority of the time.  I had no idea what it entailed until we actually had to start ordering and planning.”

_“It’s a difficult and demanding job and these people work up quite an appetite – especially when on location shoots. I speak from personal experience.”_

“That’s what we’ve got.  Two locations, three meals plus afternoon tea and snacks from five thirty in the morning until nine or ten at night, depending on the progress they make.”

_“That sounds fairly normal to me.  They try and fit in as much as they can when on location due to the expense.”  
_

“That’s such a long day.”

_“The shoots that last all day and into the night are the second hardest.”  
_

“What are the hardest ones?”

_“Oh, the night shoots when you start mid-afternoon and filming goes on until sunrise are brutal.  It wrecks utter havoc with my biological clock and schedule.”_

“Can you believe that they also sent over a menu of what they wanted us to prepare?  They even requested a gluten-free chocolate birthday cake for the third assistant director.”

_“That’s not unusual at all.”_

“What’s not unusual - The fact that they ordered a gluten-free cake or that they have three assistant directors?”

_“Both.”_

“Okay - If you say so.”

_“I say so.”  
_

“What you’re not saying much about is your very exciting news.  What gives, Mr. Cumberbatch?”

_“I’ll tell you as soon as you can get yourself over to Hampstead.”_

“Damn you, Benedict!  I hate when you’re trying to be all mysterious! It drives me nuts!  You know how I am.”

_“Yes, you’re behaving exactly as I would if the tables were turned.”  
_

“Give me a hint! Please!”

_“Alright then - being you said ‘please’.  We can stop house-hunting because we’ve had an offer that’s too good to be true.”  
_

“Whoa hoa here!  You’ve been out looking at houses without me?”

_“No.  I didn’t say that; but I do want to show you a flat. Now, how soon can you get your gorgeous bum here?”_

“I’ll be there in an hour.”

 

 

Precisely an hour later, Donna unlocked the door to Benedict’s house and found him sitting on the stairs leading to his apartment in the common vestibule.  Donna smiled warmly at him as she pulled the door shut behind her.

“Have you been sitting down here all this time or were you watching for me from the window?”

“The latter,” Benedict admitted as he got up and took her into his arms to plant a wet kiss on her lips.  “Christ, your nose is cold!”  He leaned his forehead against hers and rubbed noses. 

“That’s because it’s freezing outside...and inside,” said Donna as she shivered.  “Hold me, please.”

Benedict held her against him and kissed the top of her head.  “Better?”

“Yes, thank you. I’ll never understand why this foyer isn’t heated.”

“None of the houses in this area have heated foyers as there’s no need.  Who hangs around in a bloody foyer?”

Donna untied her hood and pushed off her head.  “Um…you are right now.  Unless you’ve been chewing the fat with Bob before I came in.”

“Bob’s not home.”

“He’s usually just leaving for work now, isn’t he?”

“He went in early today.”

“Well, that was very sweet of you to come downstairs and greet me,” said Donna, trying to step around Benedict. “I can’t wait to get upstairs and cuddle in front of the fire with my favorite guy, drink a cup of his famous hot chocolate and hear all about this exciting news.”

Benedict held out an arm to stop her.  “We’re not going upstairs.”

“We’re going out?  Oh!  I get it now – we’re meeting a realtor to look at a property.”

“Not exactly,” said Benedict as Donna started to pull her hood back on. “You won’t need your outdoor gear.  Let me help you off with that coat.”

Donna let him help her out of her coat and unwound her scarf.  “I’m confused, and I think you’re being coy deliberately,” she said, peeling off her gloves.

“Me?  Coy?  Perish the thought, Sweetheart.” Benedict laid her things on the stairs and indicated the door to Bob’s flat. “You don’t need your coat because we’re going in here for a bit, and I guarantee you there’s heat.”  

Donna watched as Benedict removed a key from his pocket and headed over to the door leading to Bob’s flat.

“Isn’t Bob at work?”

“Yep, but as you can see I have a key.  He won’t mind if we go in and have a wander around whilst he’s out.  As a matter of fact, it was his idea.”

“Why do we want to go inside his apartment and look around without his being home?”

Benedict held open the door to Bob’s apartment as bright light spilled out into the dimly lit vestibule. 

“Because this is the flat I want show you.  Now, shut the fuck up and go through for God’s sake!” snapped Benedict impatiently. “I’ll explain once we’re inside.  It’s bloody cold out here.”

Donna entered the apartment, which was laid out exactly like Benedict’s above.  She looked out the large picture window that afforded a different view of the Heath and London Skyline beyond from what Benedict had.  She turned to face him and folded her arms.

“Why are we in here, Ben?  What do you want to show me?”

Benedict grinned at her.  “We’re in here because Bob informed me today that he and Sadie bought a flat in Barbican, which means he’ll be moving out.”

“Oh, I see.  He’s offered us his apartment if we want to move downstairs.  I don’t see how that can help us in our quest for more space.”

Benedict held up a slim hand. “Let me finish. Bob wants to sell us his half of the house!  That way we would own the whole house and can renovate it any damn way we fancy.”

“Did he say how much he wants to sell it to us for?”

“Three hundred thousand quid.”

Donna opened her handbag and took out a spreadsheet that she had folded up inside.  “Give me a minute.”

“What’s that?” Benedict asked, peering over her shoulder.  “Bloody hell!  You’ve gone and made up a motherfucking spreadsheet for all the houses and flats we’ve looked at?  Let me see that!”

Donna held the paper out of his reach.  “Not if you’re going to poke fun at it.”

Benedict crossed his heart.  “I promise not to take the piss about your spreadsheet - Scout’s honour.”  He crinkled his nose at her and gave her a dimpled, lop-sided smile.

“You were never a scout, Benedict.”

Benedict considered his options for a moment.  “How about if I swear on my Equity card then?”

“I suppose that’ll do.  Do you think Bob would mind if we sat on his couch for a couple of minutes?”

“Not at all.”

“I want to do some quick calculations and comparisons.”

“You’re far better at maths than I am, so feel free to knock yourself out.”

The pair sat on the couch and studied the information Donna had painstakingly entered into the spreadsheet under the tab marked “Our Financial Info”.  Then she pulled out her calculator and did some calculations.  Finally, Donna smiled and nodded to herself.

“You looked chuffed with the results.”

“I am!”

“So, what conclusion did you come to, Love?”

“I think that three hundred thousand pounds is a bargain for this apartment. We’d be fools not to accept Bob’s offer.  We’ll need to put down at least five percent, which will come out to roughly fifteen thousand pounds.”

“Together we have the funds to do that with no problem.”

Donna nodded in agreement.  “Then we’ll see if we can combine the two mortgages into one payment.  As long as I’m regularly employed, we’ll be able to make the monthly payment easily.  That way there’s no pressure on you in case you hit a dry spell…”

Benedict bristled a bit at her words.  “I don’t intend to hit any dry spells, as you refer to it.  As you can see from my schedule, I’ve got two major commitments that will be bringing in a handsome amount of money through the end of next year.  Between _Sherlock_ and _After the Dance_ , I should be able to pay off the first mortgage completely.  I’ve also got a few things sprinkled in between these gigs.  John and I are already looking ahead to the year after that for any interesting projects that might turn up.  Until then, I can always fill in with audio books, adverts, voice-overs and the odd mini-series or indy film.”

“I think we have our bases covered.  We can begin any renovations slowly and do them as the money becomes available.  If we need to vacate the premises for the workers, we still have Marco’s apartment to live in until the end of December.”

“That’s exactly what I’ve been thinking.  Oh, and don’t forget we also gain a garage, back garden, lean-to and an additional on-street parking space.”

Donna giggled.  “Just think:  we’ll have a garage and two parking spaces for one car.”

“You forgot my motorbike.”

“What’s a lean-to?”

“A garden shed.  Right now Bob’s allowing me to store my motorbike inside it.”

“I’ve never been inside the garage.  It looks like two cars can fit inside.”

“There’s enough for one car and my motorbike as it stands currently.  Bob has the remainder of the space set up as a workshop and for storage,” said Benedict getting to his feet.  “Come have a look.  I think you’ll be surprised with how roomy it actually is. There’s a door in the kitchen that leads to a short flight of stairs that opens into either the garage or a laundry room.”

“Oh!  Now, this is something to get excited about!” exclaimed Donna as she followed Benedict into the kitchen.  “Bob has an eat-in kitchen with French doors that lead to the backyard.”

“Whereas I have a galley kitchen with a breakfast bar and my dining area shares space with the lounge.  The combined amount of space is essentially the same; but there are slight differences in the size and layouts of some of the rooms.”

“If we owned the whole house, we could make the ground floor into a living room, dining room and eat-in kitchen with a powder room off the entry.”

“It would be lovely to have a proper foyer with a grand staircase leading to the upper levels.  That’s provided the staircase can be moved, of course.”

“From what I gather it all depends on where the support beams are located,” said Donna as they went into the unheated stairwell that led to the garage and laundry room.  “We can convert the loft into a full dormer third floor with an extra bedroom, bathroom and a combination study/art studio for you.  Then we can extend the roof terrace and install a pergola and make it similar to what I have in New York.  I would definitely want to add a central air conditioning unit and heat the unheated areas.”

“I don’t recall the loft being all that roomy, unless these rooms are going to be very tiny.”

“The solution is simply: We have the architect design a rear extension for all the floors.  The backyard is long; so we wouldn’t miss the space.”

Benedict regarded her with a bemused expression.

“You haven’t given this too much thought then.”

“Every time I walk down Hearthstone Terrace or am inside your apartment, I think about what a magnificent one-family home this could be.  It has so much potential, Ben Honey.”

Benedict nodded.  “And as long as the Camden Council and Conservation Area Committee share our dreams and approve our Planning Application, the sky is the limit.  However, we’ll have to first hire an architect and file the plans along with an application that must be Okayed before any work can be started.  The neighbors will also get to voice any objections to plans that affect the outside appearance of the house, which sounds like we’re going to be doing. We can’t go too crazy with mucking with the outside appearance because the house has to blend in with and compliment the styles of the surrounding ones as this is a Conservation Area.”

“I see.  It’s like in the US when your home is on the National Historic Register.” Donna peeked into the laundry room.  “Hmmm…I prefer the way the laundry room is on the same floor as the bedrooms in your apartment.  This would be a pain-in-the-ass to keep running up and down all the time.”

“I was thinking this laundry room would make a great home gym,” said Benedict.  “Bob’s not done much with the back garden as you’ve seen.  We could install a proper flagstone terrace and have a vegetable and herb garden; and there would still be plenty of room left after any addition to have a play area for our children.”

“I think we’re getting ahead of ourselves, Benedict.  Let’s finish looking around and then go upstairs and figure out if there really would be enough space for us.”

“Have you given any thought to dinner?” inquired Donna as her stomach gurgled.

“Yes.  I’ve given it much thought.”

“And?”

“I stopped off at the butcher and bought us some ribeye steaks.”

“That sounds yummy.”

“I thought we’d have them with jacket potatoes and a rocket salad.  I even thought to stop and get some vanilla bean gelato; so we can have affogato for dessert.”

_Affogato uses espresso.  Oh, oh.  His regular coffee is ultra-strong as is.  I’m frightened of how strong his espresso must be.  I suppose he wants me wide awake for some after-dinner play time.  I bet I’ll find the black satin sheets of sex on his bed._

“Mmm…I approve.  You can cook, while I play mathematician.”

“That’s a brilliant idea,” agreed Benedict.  “I also have another surprise for you after dinner, but this time you’ll need your coat.”

 

 

“Are you ready for your other surprise?” Benedict asked Donna as they climbed the stairs to his roof terrace two hours later.  Both of them were wearing coats, scarves and gloves, and Benedict was carrying a tote bag.

“I sure am, Ben Honey.”

“Close your eyes then,” he instructed as soon as they reached the landing at the top of the stairs. 

Donna closed her eyes and felt the rush of cold air as Benedict unlocked and opened the door leading out onto his small roof terrace.  She heard the click of the light switch being flipped and suddenly she could hear faint music in the background.

“Is that ‘All I Want for Christmas is You’ I hear?”

“Correct!  Now, give me your hand,” instructed Benedict.

Donna gave him her hand and shuffled along beside him into the cold night air.  “Brrrrr…it’s freezing out here!”

“Okay, you can open your eyes now!”

Donna opened her eyes to see that the roof terrace had been transformed into a winter wonderland complete with miniature white lights and an animated grazing reindeer.  She clapped her hands together in delight as she took in the scene before her.

“Oh, Benedict!  You decorated your roof terrace for Christmas!  How beautiful it looks up here!  I love it!”

“I did it for you,” Benedict explained.  “I wanted to cheer you being this was your first Christmas away from home.” 

Donna hugged his tight and kissed him deeply.  “This was so very sweet of you, Benedict Honey.”

_Ah, Benedict Honey! There is no higher praise.  I’m getting laid tonight.  It’s a good thing I thought to change the sheets this morning.  Well done me!_

Benedict indicated two canvas-covered deck chairs that stood facing the night view of the London Skyline.

“Have a seat, please, Miss Saint James.”

“Out here?” Donna asked incredulously, covering her head with the hood and trying it securely under her chin.

“Out here,” confirmed Benedict, putting up his own hood.  “It’s just a bit breezy is all.”

Donna sat down on the lounge chair as Benedict opened the tote bag and removed a light-weight thermal blanket which he carefully tucked around her.

“There.  How’s that?”

“It’s surprisingly warm,” Donna replied as she watched him remove another blanket just like hers from the bag and toss it onto the empty chair.

“I’m chuffed to hear that.  These blankets are made especially for use when camping in cold weather.”

“Are we camping out here tonight?”

“Nutters, I’m not!” laughed Benedict. “I thought it might be nice for the two of us to sit out here for a bit, so we can enjoy my Christmas display and have a drink to celebrate our decision to buy Bob’s share of the house.”

Benedict reached into the tote bag and removed two insulated stainless steel mugs.  He handed one over to Donna and sat on the other lounge chair beside her.  Donna leaned over and helped him arrange the blanket around his slim body.  The next tune on the CD player was 'Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas'.

“The neighbors are going to love you, playing Christmas carols this time of night,” snickered Donna.

“Oh, I doubt anyone can hear them over those fucking foxes.  Crikey, those animals have a brilliant sex life.”

Donna laughed.  “I suppose if anyone’s bothered, they’ll just open a window and yell at you to turn down the volume.”

“It’s happened before,” confirmed Benedict.  “Usually, it’s Suzie next door; but I’m fine with that.  I just make sure to go around the next day with a bag of cinnamon buns from Gail’s Bakery as a peace offering.”

“That’s a tasty peace offering,” commented Donna.  “You need to remember that for the next time we have a falling out.”

“It’s remarkable how I don’t feel the cold between this down-filled coat and blanket,” observed Benedict.

“Then why are your teeth chattering?”

“They are chattering in anticipation of my special hot mulled wine.”

Donna turned the lid on her mug and smelled the spicy, sweet vapors emitting from the opening.  “This smells heavenly.  I detect cinnamon, cloves and orange.”

“Mum always has hot mulled wine simmering on the stove top during the holidays,” explained Benedict.  “This is her secret recipe.”

“If it’s a secret then how do you know it?  Did Wanda share it with you?”

“Fuck no! I hacked into her PC a few years ago and have been making it ever since,” confessed Benedict with sly smile. “Now, don’t you go telling her!”

“I promise not to throw you under the bus.”

“Cheers then!”

“Cheers!”

“It’s as good as Mum’s,” confirmed Benedict, smacking his lips.

“And as potent as something your dad would make,” chortled Donna. “I can’t get over how festive it is up here.  I noticed on my walk here from the tube station that most of the houses in this neighborhood are decorated very simply.  I see wreaths on the doors and roping on some of the steps handrails.  Not that many people put up outdoor lights.”

“Bob usually puts a wreath on the front door by now; but he’s rather preoccupied with other things this year, so I think I’ll take charge.  I was wondering if you’d fancy helping me select some decorations and a Christmas tree at the garden center for my flat.  I thought we could decorate our flats together – mine on Saturday and yours on Sunday.”

“That’s a lovely idea; but I think you’re forgetting something.  We’ve got an engagement party being held in our honor at the Garrick Club on Saturday night.”

“So we do.  We can do up my flat early in the day on Saturday; so we’ll have enough time to get ready for the party.”

“Consider it a date.”

“We can do yours up on Sunday then.”

Donna leaned over and kissed him. “That’s a great idea, Benedict!  We can have a tree-trimming party brunch at my place on Sunday!”

“That’s a brilliant idea!  I’ll sleep over at your flat; and we can make croque monsieurs and have a nice romantic brunch for two.  I’ll be sure to buy some mistletoe for afterwards.”

“Have you forgotten that my parents and Grandpa Colin will be in town?”

_Oh, fuck!  I forgot the wankers were flying over for our party.  This means we’ll surely have to see them.  
_

“Are your parents staying in your flat?”

“Not this time, I’m happy to report.  They’re staying with Uncle Rodney and Aunt Bea; and Grandpa is staying with Carly and Steve.”

“When are they arriving exactly?”

“Tomorrow morning.  They should be in the air now somewhere over the Atlantic.”

“I’m truly blessed,” muttered Benedict.  “When will we be seeing them, besides Saturday night and Sunday for brunch?”

“They’ve invited us out to dinner Friday night and your parents have invited us all to dinner on Monday night.”

_Christ!  I don’t recall Mum or Dad mentioning having the Saint Jameses over for dinner on Monday…I must have been on autopilot._

“Shall I make a booking at the Ivy Club for Friday night then?”

“They asked me to make a reservation at the Tate Modern’s Restaurant for six.  I’m spending the afternoon with them looking at the exhibits while you’re working.”

_For fucks sake!  Antonia, Neil and my wine nemesis…though to be fair, Frederick considers himself my coach now and has taken me under his wing.  I think I might ring him up prior to Friday night for some advice._

“Did you say six?”

Donna nodded as she sipped her wine.

“Bloody hell!  Why so early?”

“My parents prefer to dine early, remember?”

“There are some things I’d rather purge from my memory.  I detest eating that early.”

“Believe it or not, six o’clock was a compromise.  They originally wanted to eat at five…”

“Jolly good then.  They can eat without me.  I’ll be across town in one of BBC4’s recording studios doing the narration for _South Pacific,_ Parts four and five as you bloody well know.  I don’t know how many takes the director will ask me to do or if I can even make it there by six.”

“We can always sit in the bar and have a drink and appetizers if you run late.”  _Which you always do, so I’m sure that’s what we’ll wind up doing.  
_

“I’ll do the best that I can.”

“I don’t want you to sacrifice giving a good performance on account of my parents.”

“You can count on that,” Benedict snickered.  “My work has to come first, as it bloody well should.”

“I’m sure my parents will understand if you get stuck working later.”

Benedict snorted.  “No they won’t!  They’ll be pitching a fit.”

“I know you’ll do whatever it takes to keep everyone happy; and like I said they can have appetizers and a drink while we wait for you.”

The pair sat, sipping their wine as they listened to the Christmas music mingling with the night sounds of Hampstead.

“I was just thinking that we can pick out your tree at that pop up lot in Paternoster Square early Sunday morning and whatever other live decorations you fancy.”

“There will be no live tree for me, I’m afraid,” Donna said sadly.  “Marco said I’m welcome to have an artificial tree and decorations, which is nice of him; but I do miss the scent of fresh pine.”

“Well, I promise you there will be a live tree here for you to enjoy.”

Just then the opening notes of 'Jingle Bell Rock' came from Benedict’s CD player, which he had placed on the table earlier to provide them with some holiday tunes.

“Oh, I love Billy Idol’s version!” exclaimed Donna, throwing off the blanket and getting up.  “Dance with me, Benedict!”

Benedict got up and they began to dance on the roof terrace, surrounded by the glow from the white fairy lights. 

“I’m having so much fun tonight,” Donna said as Benedict twirled her around.

“You have no idea how much hearing you say that pleases me.  I wanted tonight to be perfect.”

“Oh, it has been, Ben Honey! I adore everything from the decorations and music to the mulled wine.  I think the mechanical reindeer is my favorite, especially the red bow around his neck – it’s such a whimsical touch.”

“I’m afraid I can’t take credit for the bow.  That was Olivia’s idea.”

“Olivia?” repeated Donna with a raised eyebrow.

There was an awkward pause as Benedict Cumberbatch realized the implications of what he had said.

 

***********************************************

 

“Aren’t you finished with that contract yet, Toni?” Neil Saint James asked his wife as the American Airlines jet they were on prepared to land at Heathrow. 

“Now, I am,” replied Toni, snapping shut her briefcase and sliding it underneath her seat.  She raised the shade on the window and looked outside.  “We must be flying over England by now.”

“That we are,” confirmed Colin from his aisle seat.  “The Captain just announced that we’ll be landing in about twenty minutes; so I’m going to use the head one last time.”

Neil regarded his wife with a frown once his father had gotten up.

“Do you realize that you’ve barely said two words to Pa and me since we took off?” 

“Well, at least you had Pa for company.  You two seemed to pass the time just fine while I was working.  I heard you laughing and talking.”

“I just wish you didn’t have to start off your vacation by doing work, Darling Dear.”

“I wanted to review and make some last minute changes to this pre-nup before we land.”

“Can I ask who your client is or is it top secret?”

“There is no client per se.”

“I see.  Is this an example of a pre-nup for your office’s procedure manual?”

“Of course not.  Would I work on something like that on vacation?”

“No.  I don’t understand why the preoccupation with this document.”

“I’m preparing this pre-nup for our daughter, and I need it to be ready in time for dinner Friday night.”

Neil raised his eyebrows at his wife.  “Let’s see…our oldest daughter is already married; so this could only mean that you’re doing a pre-nup for Donna.”

Colin had just returned to his seat in time for hear Neil’s statement.  “What’s this about a pre-nup for our Donna?  I never would have taken her for the type who’d insist on such a thing!”

“Neither would I,” remarked Neil, eyeing his wife suspiciously. “Donna’s a very trusting soul.”

“Which has cost her dearly in the past,” Toni reminded him.  “I won’t allow her to put any of her assets at risk.”

“I would think that would be for Donna to decide,” Neil said gently. “Don’t you agree, Darling Dear?”

“We’re going to have to agree to disagree this time, Neil.  Donna’s too blinded by love to think clearly when it comes to money.  She owns half of a townhouse, a Porsche, a substantial amount of jewelry and has an ever-growing stock portfolio of wise investments.  Someone has to see that her assets are protected.”

“If Donna didn’t ask you to draw up the contract, Toni; did you decide to take this task upon yourself then?  Or did Ben ask you to draw one up?” inquired Colin. 

“Cumberbatch would be the last person to request a pre-nup!” snorted Neil.

Colin glared at his son.  “Perhaps he asked Toni to draw one up on Donna’s behalf.”

“He didn’t,” Confirmed Toni.

“I didn’t think so,” snickered Neil.

“May I ask why you find the idea of Ben wanting a pre-nup so amusing, son?”

“Why? Because Cumberbatch has bubkis to protect!”

“Doesn’t the chap own a flat and a car?” countered Colin.

“Benedict owns an apartment and parking space that’s worth almost five hundred thousand pounds,” replied Toni.  “It could be worth significantly more; but he hasn’t really done anything to improve it.”

“What about his car?” pressed Colin.  “Cars are worth something. Look at Donna’s little Porsche.”

“Oh, Pa, that piece of junk Benedict calls a car doesn’t even count as an asset!” laughed Toni.  “It’s old and falling apart.”

Neil joined in the laughter.  “That car is more of a liability from what Donna says.”

“Certainly the man has some money saved up.”

Toni grimaced.  “He does; but nowhere near what Donna is worth.  Unfortunately, when I last ran financials on him, the actual amount was difficult to decipher at first.”

“What do you mean?” Neil asked his wife.  “You’ve got crackerjack investigators working for you – they can dig up almost anything.”

“That’s true, and they do a wonderful job for me.  However, it appears Donna and Benedict have merged their bank accounts into one!”

Neil smacked his forehead.  “Please tell me that was a joke, Toni.”

“I wish I could, dear; but I can’t.  When I ran Benedict’s financials, I was completely floored to see that he had suddenly accumulated such an impressive amount in his savings account.  Then I realized it was a joint account bearing our daughter’s name as well – unless you know of another Donna Marie Saint James who would open a joint account with him.”

Neil shook his head in disgust. “Only our naïve daughter would do that before she married the jerk.”

“Perhaps the BBC paid him for _Sherlock_ ,” ventured Colin optimistically.  “Ben told me that even though everyone says the BBC is cheap, he was very impressed with the amount they offered him.”

“They won’t pay Cumberbatch shit until filming begins, Pa,” said Neil.  “Then he’ll be paid per episode according to Rodney.”

“When I compared the last financials I ran for Donna to the ones I had run for Benedict, his savings were meager, compared to hers.”

“I recall you saying that Ben was left a nice amount of money when his gran passed in addition to the diamond ring,” said Colin.

“True; but he used a good deal of that money to put a sizeable down payment on his apartment, which was a perfectly practical use for it.”

“I still don’t quite comprehend what the problem is then?” said Colin, who was clearly frustrated.  “You just said he used good judgement in spending some of his inheritance!”

“I advised Donna not to merge her money with his until after they were married,” explained Neil.  “That was not the best decision, nor is it in her interest right now.  What if something were to go wrong, and they break up?”

“Bloody hell! Nothing’s going to break them up!” scoffed Colin.  “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you wanted something to come between them.”

“Look, Pa.  It’s no secret that we’re not completely enamoured with Cumberbatch; but Donna loves him very much, and we want her to be happy,” Neil said defensively. 

“Absolutely.  Benedict has his good and bad points, I’ll admit.  However, when push comes to shove; it’s Donna’s happiness that is our primary concern,” interjected Toni.  “We promised ourselves to try and make things work.”

“You two have a funny way of showing it,” Colin mumbled under his breath.   “Presenting the man with a pre-nup is not how one promotes a feeling of trust and family.  It’s more akin to a declaration of war.”

Neil looked from his wife to his father and back again. 

“Pa makes excellent points as well, Toni.  Cumberbatch will not look upon a pre-nup favorably –especially one not initiated by Donna. He will see this as meddling, which it is.”

Toni rolled her eyes and waved her hand dismissively.  “Oh, please!”

_I notice my wife didn’t deny that she is the catalyst for the pre-nup._

The trio remained silent for several minutes as the customs forms were being collected around them before Toni touched her husband’s forearm.

“There’s more, Neil,” Toni said quietly. “Donna also added his name to the deed as co- owner of her half of the townhouse.  So now she and Benedict own fifty percent; and Carly and Steve own the other half.”

“Jesus Christ!  What is Donna thinking?”

“That’s she wants to merge her life with the man she loves and is going to marry?” said Colin with a trace of sarcasm in his voice.  “I really don’t see what my granddaughter did to put you two in such a strop.”

“The difference is that Carly waited until after she was married to make all these changes,” said Toni.

“I don’t see what difference it makes aside from you two prefer Steve to Ben,” continued Colin.

“Pa, Carly and Steve have been married for a few years now. Steven is making a fine career for himself and had his own assets to contribute to their marriage.”

“Oh, you mean the clothes on his back and his medical school debts?” inquired Colin.  “If I recall, when Carly and Steve were married, she was the one who brought the bulk of their assets into the marriage – same as Donna’s doing.  Steve had next to nothing.”

“Steve had a small bank account, and his student loan was small because he had won all those scholarships,” retorted Toni.

“Did Steve bring less than Ben to the table?” asked Colin.

Neil and Toni exchanged wary glances. 

“Okay.  Yes, Steve’s assets were worth considerably less than Benedict’s,” admitted Toni grudgingly.

“Then I don’t see what the fuss is all about other than you two aren’t thrilled with Ben.”

Colin did up his seat belt and said nothing more as the cabin lights were turned off for landing.

Toni glanced over at her father-in-law as she buckled her seat belt and said to Neil in a low voice:  “They’ve also opened a joint safe deposit box together for their valuables. According to my investigator, they rented one of the larger boxes in the bank.”

“Now, that’s a sound idea,” declared Colin. “They should have a safe place to store their valuables.”

“Cumberbatch has no valuables to speak of, Pa!” snorted Neil.  “He owns a watch and some cuff links and probably has a few important papers to store at the most.  The smallest size would suit his needs.”

“Donna’s the one who owns a substantial amount of jewelry,” said Toni.  “That box is mostly for her things.”

“Did she bring it all back to London with her?” Neil asked Toni.

Toni shrugged.  “I know Donna mentioned bringing the bulk of it back with her in addition to her paperwork on all her investments and other items of importance such as her birth certificate.  She said she wanted to be able to get at it while in London rather than send me to her box in New York whenever she needed something.”

“Jesus Christ.  I hate the idea that Cumberbatch can access Donna’s money and important items!” groused Neil.  “What if things _were_ to go awry between now and the wedding?”

“I think you’re both being overly pessimistic for no reason,” muttered Colin.  _I also notice that my daughter-in-law never took responsibility for initiating the bloody pre-nup._

“I hate it too, Neil,” agreed Toni, ignoring Colin’s comment. 

“When did this request to do a pre-nup come up exactly?  Did Donna actually ask you or did you suggest it?” inquired Neil.

Toni looked out the window as the airport and runway came into view.  “It didn’t come up per se.”

“And that’s the second time you’ve used the term ‘per se’, Toni," snapped Neil. "How about you stop talking in circles and just tell me where this crazy idea came from – and don’t tell me that Donna asked you to draw one up because I know better.”

“You’re right.  Donna didn’t ask me, nor does she know I’ve prepared one. I took it upon myself to take these precautions on her behalf.”

Neil took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he imagined Donna and Benedict’s reactions.  The plane had landed and was taxiing to the gate.

“Oh, that will be rich when you present it to her!” snickered Neil. “She’s going to hit the ceiling.”

“Ben is going to be angry that you took such a thing upon yourself, Toni,” said Colin.  “It clearly demonstrates that you don’t trust him.”

“I don’t.”

“Do you _really_ , Antonia?  Think hard and carefully before you answer me again,” said Colin.  “I realize neither of you is chuffed to have Ben as a son-in-law; but do you two _really_ not trust him to do right by Donna?  I realize that she’s been burned before; but I think Ben has been properly raised and has proven to be very responsible and has illustrated his love for our Donna time and again.  He doesn’t give a toss about her assets, nor does he want them.  Ben wants your daughter and to make a life with her.  One day he might become a very rich and famous actor – then what tune will you two be singing when the shoe is on the other foot?  Eh?”

“I’m going to have to agree with Pa on this one, dear - Except for the part about his becoming famous,” said Neil. “If you go through with this and spring this pre-nup on them, you risk your relationship with your daughter; and Cumberbatch will be highly insulted and tell you to go fuck yourself.  He will never sign a pre-nup.”

“I frankly don’t give a shit if Benedict likes it or not,” retorted Toni with a toss of her head. “I’m doing this to protect Donna’s sizeable assets.  He’s got nothing to lose and everything to gain by marrying our daughter.”

“I can see that there’s no getting through to you then. However, there’s one important little thing you seem to be forgetting Toni for all your research and legal knowledge:  pre-nups aren’t valid in the UK,” Colin pointed out with a smirk.  “It’s a moot point.”

“Then Benedict shouldn’t mind signing it being they intend to live in the UK for the present.  However, should they move to the US one day, all bets are off,” countered Toni with an evil smile.  “I know that pre-nups aren’t valid over here; however, one day that may change.  I won’t rest until this is signed.”

“You’re going to be frightfully knackered, I’m afraid,” said Colin Saint James. “Because Ben will never sign that piece of paper, nor would I blame him.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I don't know anything about real estate buying or selling in the UK. I just made it up to fit in with my story. 
> 
> 2\. The real Benedict did buy his downstairs neighbor's flat during the same time frame this chapter is taking place for 300K pounds. There were articles online with photos. 
> 
> 3\. My Benedict's home is much different than his actual one in Hampstead (according to photos that are online). I wanted him to have a larger place. The photos here are of a property that was for sale in Hampstead. This is how I envisioned the house that my version of Benedict would live in on the fictional Hearthstone Terrace. 
> 
> 4\. I know next to nothing about heating and air-conditioning in UK homes. Central air conditioning does not seem to be the norm, nor are there window units like we have here in the US that we remove in the winter or have installed through the walls. Donna would want central air; so she shall have it in this story even thought it would be very unlikely. 
> 
> 5\. I have no idea how the BBC pays its actors for TV shows or if payment would through Hartswood Productions. If anyone knows, please feel free to let me know. 
> 
> 6\. Again, I'm not sure how TV show catering works; so this is all from a little fact and a lot of fiction to fit the plot.
> 
> 7\. From what I've read, pre-nup contracts are not valid in the UK.
> 
> 8\. Being I'm not writing as frequently as I had been due to real life getting in the way, I apologize for any mistakes in continuity between chapters etc.
> 
> 9\. Thank you to all who have left kudos and to all new readers! It's so nice to see a growing interest in BC RPF again!!!!


	156. Chapter 156

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Benedict suffers a mouth filter malfunction. Wanda and Timothy plan dinner. Donna’s seductive attempt at an apology causes Benedict to make a confession. 
> 
> Note: I’ll be using *************** for things happening at the same time.

  

Donna Saint James felt on top of the world as she and her handsome fiancé were dancing to Billy Idol’s version of Jingle Bell Rock on the festively-decorated roof terrace.   The tiny white fairy lights were twinkling on the railing and around the potted trees while the mechanical reindeer continued to graze in the corner.  Benedict had prepared a delicious steak dinner for them, followed by warm gingerbread squares topped with cream cheese frosting and a warm lemon sauce.  Donna had double-checked her calculations carefully while Benedict cooked and was able to confirm that they could afford to buy Bob’s share of the house.  The best part of the evening had been when he led her up to the roof terrace to find it had been decorated for Christmas.  

_I’m so blessed to have this warm, caring, and thoughtful man in my life,_ Donna thought happily.   _He even remembered to have the cabbage roses delivered to my apartment this morning right on schedule.  Benedict is so much like his father.  I love that about him.  They are both such romantics._

“I’m having so much fun tonight,” Donna said to Benedict as he twirled her around and took both her hands in his as they continued to dance. 

_And the night isn’t over yet, my love,_ thought Benedict.  _I’ve got my black satin sheets and extra pillows already on the bed, romantic music cued up on my iPOD, a fresh tube of lube stashed in my night stand, damp flannels warming in that ridiculous engagement gift we got and I even remembered to put out that fat cinnamon-scented candle Donna likes so much.  There are hot cocoa fixings at the ready in the kitchen for a post-coital treat.  Well done me.  It’s going to be an epic night of shagging, and I’m so randy!_

“You have no idea how much hearing you say that pleases me, Sweetheart.  I wanted tonight to be perfect.” 

“Oh, it has been, Ben Honey! I adore everything from the decorations and music to the mulled wine; but I think the mechanical reindeer is my favorite, especially the red bow around his neck – it’s such a whimsical touch.” 

“I’m afraid I can’t take credit for the bow.  That was Olivia’s idea.” 

“Olivia?” repeated Donna as she regarded him with a raised eyebrow. 

There was an awkward pause as Benedict realized the implications of what he had said. 

_Nooooooo!  My damn motherfucking mouth filter fucks me once again!_

Donna ceased dancing and let her hands drop to her sides.  _Olivia?  He definitely said Olivia, didn’t he? I wasn’t hearing things.  The man said Olivia as in Olivia his former lover for ten plus years._

“I’d ask Olivia who; but there’s only one Olivia in your life that I know of.” 

“Well, I am also acquainted with a brilliant actress named Olivia Coleman.” 

Donna suddenly bristled. “Stop trying to bullshit me, Benedict. I know you’re referring to your former lover, Olivia Poulet.” 

_Why does the idea of Olivia being up here alone with him bother me so much?  Apparently, she came over while he was decorating.  Why would she come over here?  The last time he saw her was over six months ago.  I know they sometimes talk on the phone; but for some reason the knowledge that she was here is pissing me off something fierce._

_Okay.  I must remain calm and simply tell Donna the truth.  She’s going to come across Olivia at Mark’s wedding; and Liv might just say something.  It’s not like we did anything wrong.  I dreamt that I had intentions of cheating on Donna; but I didn’t act on it.  Liv even slept on the couch that night.  
_

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck.  “Erm…the afternoon I went over to the garden center to buy the Christmas decorations, I bumped into Olivia.” 

“Imagine that.  What a small world,” quipped Donna. 

“She was buying weatherproof ribbon for an outdoor wreath and suggested that I do the same.” 

“How nice of her to take an interest,” Donna remarked coolly.  “Did you finish your shopping together?” 

“Actually, I was done at that point; so after a brief chat, we wished each other a Happy Christmas and parted company.  Then I paid for the decorations and was in the midst of trying to figure out how to get it all back to my flat; when Olivia came along and offered to help me.” 

“I don’t understand why you were having such a dilemma. Wouldn’t you just roll the shopping cart out to your car, load all the stuff in the trunk and drive home?  Then you would only have to unload it and bring it into the house.  I’d say you could have managed that in two trips.  So, what did you need her for?” 

Benedict rubbed his thigh furiously.  “I didn’t think to take my car.” 

_Silly me.  Of course he didn’t._

“The purchases were made completely on impulse.  I was taking my daily walk when the idea just popped into my head as I passed by the Holly Bush.” 

“So the pub’s sign was your inspiration for wanting to decorate your roof terrace.” 

“Yeah.” 

Donna nodded. “That makes perfect sense.” 

_She’s taking the piss.  I can tell._

“So, I walked over to the garden center and had a wander around.  It was after I had paid for everything that I realized there were an awful lot of things to get home.  The reindeer was in a box, plus I had two other bags to carry.  It’s a decent walk from the Boma Garden Center to my flat.” 

“I’ll say. That garden center is in Kentish Town. Why didn’t you just call a cab?” 

Benedict threw up his arms in frustration. “Bloody hell!  Is this what it’s like when I’m in Barrister Ben mode?” he growled. 

Donna thought for a moment and gave him a cheeky smile.  “Yeah, that’s what it’s like; only your questioning is more… intense.” 

_Hells bells!  I never realized I had the capacity to be such an annoying dick._

“Well, I didn’t think to call a cab,” retorted Benedict. “And it’s not because I was being cheap!” he added petulantly. 

“I didn’t say you were cheap.” 

“No, but…” 

_Olivia did.  She always said that to me. Donna never has.  She understands my thriftiness and that sometimes I’m just a tad to the right of ditzy. I never thought of calling a cab._

“…it just didn’t occur to me is all, for fucks sake.  I really did think I could manage the stuff without help…” he allowed his voice to trail off. 

“I see.”  Donna sighed and hugged herself against the cold.  

_Damn! She said:  I see.  That’s always bad whenever she just says that. Donna’s I see is the equivalent of Mum’s ‘fine’.  Dad and I have learnt to beware of Mum’s wrath whenever she says ‘fine’.  With Donna its ‘I see’.  
_

“I’m starting to feel the cold now.”

“So am I.  In more ways than one,” said Benedict dejectedly.   _I also have a pretty good notion as to who isn’t getting laid tonight._

“I’m going back inside.” 

“I’m right behind you.” 

Benedict quickly folded the blankets, collected up the empty mugs and switched off the reindeer and lights before following her into the house and down the loft stairs to the main floor of his flat. The door to his bathroom was shut, indicating that Donna wanted privacy. 

_Donna’s stropy now and she hasn’t heard all of it yet.  Perhaps I shouldn’t tell her. This is one of those things that may best be left in the past.  However, what if I don’t and Olivia casually mentions something at the wedding, then Donna will suspect the worst. I could always ring Liv up and ask her not to say anything – even if Donna brings it up.  
_

 

*****************************************************

 

 Donna Saint James stood in Benedict’s bathroom brushing her teeth with the electric toothbrush she had bought to keep in his apartment along with her other toiletries.  Her diamond engagement ring glittered on her left hand as she tucked her chestnut hair over her ears in an effort to keep it out of her face. 

_I don’t understand why I’m so annoyed that Olivia helped Benedict home with his decorations and hung around to help set them up on the roof terrace.  Was it really such a bad thing?  It’s not like he was cheating on me…but he didn’t exactly come out and tell me either.  He let it slip, which means he really didn’t want me to know.  Why?  Did he think I would be jealous?  I’m not jealous!_

Donna spit the toothpaste in the sink and rinsed her mouth.  She gazed at her reflection in the mirror.  Her face looked pinched and angry. 

_Holy cow, Donna!  You look just like Mom does whenever she’s pissed off!  I don’t want to look like that!_

Donna softened her expression and attempted to look neutral. 

_Nope.  That’s not doing it.  The corners of your mouth betray you, Donna.  I still see Mom when I look in the mirror.  Ugh!  
_

Donna filled a small paper cup with Benedict’s minty mouthwash and swirled it around her mouth. 

_I don’t think I’m that angry with Benedict.  I’m still considering having sex with him, so that should count for something._

Donna spit out the mouthwash, then rinsed and dried off the head of her toothbrush.  She pondered her reflection in the mirror once again and pulled a face at herself. 

_I’m jealous and sad that I wasn’t the one Benedict chose to help him decorate the roof terrace.  That was my place, not hers!  But I was in New York – how could I have helped him from across the ocean?  
_

Donna put away the toothbrush and began to brush her hair. 

_It was a surprise, you jerk!  Benedict specifically said he wanted to surprise you!  That’s why he didn’t ask you.  It was just one of those things that happen.  Did you not run into Roy at Tri Tip Grill, and he invited you to share his table because it was so crowded?  Then afterwards you both walked over to Maison du Chocolat for a cup of their hot chocolate before he had to dash back downtown to court?  Benedict would have understood about Roy, and yet you didn’t deem it necessary to tell him.  
_

_Why?  
_

_Because you didn’t consider it important, and you know Benedict wouldn’t have cared.  It was simply a matter of two old friends catching up; two old friends who happened to be engaged at one time.  Benedict also knows and is secure in the fact that Roy poses no threat to him.  
_

_Just like Olivia poses no threat to me.  She and Benedict have both moved on. I’m being silly and immature._

Donna put her brush away and slipped into her revealing nightie and cow head slippers.    

_Jeez Louise!  I wish I had a robe. I’m feeling chilly in this and exposed.  I’m sure it will get Ben’s attention, but I need to lose the cow slippers – those will only cause him to dissolve into a fit of giggles as he would say.  Barefoot is the way to go for now.  Then he can see my festive Christmas toenail art._

Finally, Donna slid open her side of the medicine cabinet so she could apply some of the chocolate mint lip balm she had bought in New York.  There, lying beside the lipsticks she kept there was a pink beaded lipstick case. 

_Hello?  Where did you come from? What a cute case!  I wonder if Benedict bought it for me as a surprise. The man is just full of surprises tonight._

Donna picked up the case and opened it.  She removed the tube and looked to see what brand it was.  It was Rimmel and the color was:  You’re All Mine. 

_Hmmm…I don’t wear Rimmel lipstick, but I love the name of the color he picked. How thoughtful Benedict can be!  My honey always puts such creativity into his gifts and little loving gestures. I’m such a lucky woman!  
_

Donna opened the tube to see what the color actually looked like.  The dark pink berry lipstick looked as if it had been used.  

_Crap!  This looks like it’s been used.  I wonder if he bought a tester without realizing it. No, it would have a little label that says ‘tester’ on the bottom, and this one doesn’t.  Maybe they don't do that here?  
_

Donna twisted the bottom and found one third of it gone. _  
_

_This lipstick has definitely been used, and it sure as shit isn’t mine. This means Benedict didn’t buy it or the case for me.  It’s not Wanda’s.  She has that gorgeous antique silver one with the jade clasp that Tim bought her for one of their anniversaries.  Tracy rarely comes here and Emmy doesn’t use a lipstick case. This is truly a mystery worthy of Sherlock Holmes…or is it?  
_

Donna inspected the case a little closer, turning it around in her hands and bit her lower lip.  

_This isn't a brand-new case, it's worn looking in spots.  Maybe Ben bought me a vintage case._ Stop trying to fool yourself. _You know who this case belongs to, Donna; but you don’t want to admit it.  
_

As Donna was about to return the lipstick to the case, she noticed two initials embroidered onto the white satin lining:  OMP 

_I knew it!  I knew it deep down inside that it was Olivia’s! She obviously used the bathroom to freshen up and must have dropped it.  Then Benedict found it, assumed it was mine and put it away with my lipsticks. It was perfectly innocent, I’m sure.  
_

Donna placed the lipstick case on the counter with the intention of putting it in her handbag later on. 

  _I think I’ll hold onto this and return it to Olivia at Mark and Juliet’s wedding.  
_

Donna gathered her hair into a ponytail and then thought better of it.  She watched as her hair fell and cascaded around her shoulders. Then she dabbed a bit of her Takashimiya perfume behind each ear and on her wrists. 

_I need to put my feelings for Olivia back in the box they hopped out of and leave them there. So she helped Benedict bring the decorations home and up to the roof terrace. So she used his bathroom.  There was no crime in that!  So what?  Benedict loves me now, not her.  I’m the one he’s going to marry, not her. I’m making too big a deal out of this and hurt his feelings. I need to show him just how much I appreciate what he just did for me.  
_

Donna palmed the lipstick case, opened the door and stepped out into the hallway.  The door to Benedict’s bedroom stood open.  The fire place had been turned on, and the TV was showing the weather with the volume set to mute. Benedict was sitting up in bed, reading what looked like a script and wearing a navy and red flannel pajama top from what she could see.  

_Looks like Benedict gave up on love tonight.  I guess I can’t blame him for the way I acted.  I definitely gave him the cold shoulder.  He didn’t even fluff the pillows the way he does when he’s expecting a good night treat.  I see he only got himself a glass of water tonight.  He’s pissed off at me and rightfully so.  
_

“I’m going to the kitchen to get a glass of water.  Can I get you anything?” Donna asked timidly, pausing in the doorway so Benedict could get a look at her midnight blue see-through nightie. She tossed her hair over one shoulder and gave him a come hither look. 

“No thanks.  I’m fine,” he replied curtly without looking up.  

_Okay.  I’ve been dismissed,_ thought Donna glumly as she went into the lounge and put Olivia’s lipstick case in her handbag.  Then she entered the kitchen and filled a glass with cold water and a bit of ice.  The glass cookie jar that she had filled with white chocolate-dipped pistachio cranberry biscotti beckoned to her.  

_Those came out really well.  I must thank Giada for the recipe.  Maybe I’ll have one before bed.  
_

Donna pulled the jar towards her and lifted the lid.  The sweet scent of white chocolate filled her nose.  _Yum!  Those smell good._ She started to reach into the jar and stopped. 

_I just brushed my teeth.  I don’t want to have to go through my whole dental regimen again.  What the hell!  I've apparently got no other plans aside from reading my book._

Donna’s sweet tooth won out in the end, so she made two cups of black tea with cranberry using the tea bags from the tin that she found in the pantry.  After carefully brewing the tea to Benedict’s preference, Donna added milk and sugar; filled a small plate with four of the cookies and made her way back to the bedroom.  She found Benedict exactly how she had left him with his eyes glued to whatever it was he was reading.   

“I made us a festive little snack or tipple as you like to call it,” said Donna with a smile. 

“A tipple is a drink before bed – usually an alcoholic one,” corrected Benedict brusquely. 

_So he’s in Bitchy-batch mode.  Don’t answer him, Donna.  Pretend he didn’t say anything._   

“I made us some of that black cranberry tea from Fortnum and Mason to go with the biscotti,” said Donna, holding out a mug to Benedict. 

“Thanks,” was all Benedict said as he accepted the mug and took a tentative sip.  He nodded his approval. “Nice,” he said as he placed it on his nightstand.  “Your tea-brewing skills are steadily improving.” 

“That’s because I had a good teacher!”  

Donna rounded the bed and placed her mug on her nightstand along with the plate of cookies.  She could feel Benedict’s eyes on her as he snuck a peek at what she was wearing. 

_Wow, wow, wow!  That’s a right sexy nightdress – what there is of it.  I don’t recall seeing that one before. Just when I resigned myself to no shagging tonight, she sashays in wearing that lovely, skimpy piece of chiffon.  
_

Donna held out the plate towards him.  “Biscotti?” 

“Not now, thank you.” 

_Hmmm…she’s trying to make amends with tea and biscuits. She knows I’m not only a tart for sexy lingerie but sweets as well.  I do love it when she tries to seduce me.  I'm such an easy lay.  I'll give it a few more minutes._

_For God’s sake!  Benedict never, ever turns down sweets! Maybe he’s sick?  
_

“Reading anything good?” Donna inquired nonchalantly as she got into the bed and curled up alongside Benedict, who noticeably inhaled her scent.    

“I’m studying my script for _South Pacific_ ,” he replied, turning the page.  

_Mmmm…Donna’s wearing my favourite perfume.  She’s still trying to wear me down.  It’s working, too.  I feel my knob starting to get a bit stiff._

Donna rested her head on his shoulder and snaked her hand underneath the covers and up his treasure trail all the way to his pajama top.   _Hmmm…he’s wearing the bottoms, too.  And his dick didn't feel soft when I just grazed over it.  His frostiness might be starting to thaw.  I hope my efforts are going to pay off._

_Ah, ha!  Donna’s gone into full seduction mode:  Sweets, perfume and sexy lingerie.  I supposed she realized that she was acting like a tit and wants to have makeup sex now._

“What is there to study?  You’re just going to stand there and read it.  There’s nothing to memorize.” 

“I like to be acquainted with the script; so I’m not going into it cold tomorrow morning.  It also enables me to make suggestions.” 

“Do you have any?” 

“I might.”  Benedict used the yellow magic marker to highlight some of the text. 

Donna leaned closer and read the title, which was printed on every page.  “This says Part Five of Six.  So you have one more after tomorrow?” 

“Yep.  Friday.  The day your parents fancy having dinner at four.” 

“It was five.” 

“People are still having tea at five, for fucks sake!” 

“I did tell you that I changed it to six.” 

Benedict only grunted in response. 

“At least they were willing to compromise, Ben.” 

Benedict snorted.  “Compromise my arse!  That wasn’t a compromise by my standards.” 

“Well, it was by theirs.” 

“That was an absolutely ridiculous compromise then.” 

“I didn’t think so.” 

“Well, perhaps you should think again, _Sweetheart_.” 

_There’s the snotty version of Sweetheart.  
_

“Look, Donna, I don’t fancy debating on what a proper time to have dinner is. I just want to finish going through this script and get some sleep.” 

Donna cuddled closer.  “I’m cold.” 

“Bloody hell! You’re never cold.”  

Donna let out a small cry of surprise as Benedict suddenly pushed her off of him and got out of bed.  He disappeared into the hallway, muttering to himself and returned with one of the thermal blankets and tossed it onto her side of the bed.  

“Put this underneath the down duvet and you’ll feel warm and toasty in no time.” 

“I’ll be sweating my ass off.” 

Benedict sighed and gazed into her hazel eyes as he got back into the bed.  “Then take off …” 

“Take off what?” 

Benedict shook his head and began to laugh.  “I was going to say take off that fucking heavy nightdress; but then I realized that you’re practically naked as is.” 

“You’re right – I am starting to feel warm now.” Donna kicked off the duvet, selected one of the biscotti and took a bite.  “Mmmm…these really are tasty.  Want a bite?”  Her eyes bore straight into his as she held the long cookie in her mouth suggestively. 

“No thanks.” 

“I can see I’m getting nowhere with you tonight.” 

“Where do you fancy going?” 

“Down on you.” 

_Well then. It’s time to stop being stropy.  I don’t want to disappoint Donna.  If she wants to suck my dick, who am I to deny her that pleasure…not to mention my own!_

Benedict raised both eyebrows quizzically at her.  “Is this an apology for what transpired on the roof terrace?” 

“Yes.  I’m sorry for being snotty before.” 

“Apology accepted.”  Benedict leapt out of the bed and began to unbutton his pajama top.  He noticed the bemused expression on Donna’s face as she watched him undress. 

_Oh, Benedict, there’s nothing like showing her how anxious you are to get laid._

_I really must learn to practice better self-control, but my knob thinks differently than I do._

“I don’t know what got into me up there,” Donna continued. 

“Well, it certainly wasn’t me – though I fancy getting into you now, literally.” 

“I was jealous of Olivia.” 

Benedict stripped off his pajama bottoms and pants in one swift motion, following by his sleep socks.  Then he got into the bed and enveloped Donna in his arms.  She could smell his arousal coupled with the mint of his mouthwash on his warm breath. 

“Why would you be jealous of Olivia?” 

“Because she was here doing fun things with you, and I wasn’t.  I was being childish and petty.” 

“I assure you that you have nothing to be jealous about when it comes to Olivia – or any other woman for that matter.  I told you what happened:  We came across each other in the garden center, and she helped me back here with my purchases.  The reindeer came in a box, which I was able to carry just fine; but I found I couldn’t manage the two bags that contained the other stuff.  Liv offered to help me carry it home is all, and she wound up helping me bring it up to the roof terrace and set it up.  I swear that neither of us thought to call a cab.  It was a nice, sunny day; so we enjoyed the walk.” 

_And we also stopped for a coffee at Starbucks on the way because the motherfucking box was getting too heavy for me to carry._

Donna nodded.  “You’re right.  It was perfectly innocent.” 

“Of course it was.  I no longer fancy Olivia in the way I fancy you.”  _And I’m not telling you about the rest of it or you may not understand about us getting pissed and Liv sleeping over.  I’ll definitely keep my dream close to my vest.  I doubt Donna would understand that.  She’d be analyzing it and think I still fancy Liv._

Benedict nuzzled her neck and began to lift the nightdress over Donna’s head.  “So, do you agree that some makeup sex is in order then?” 

Donna’s eyes roamed hungrily over his lean, hard body as she leaned in to kiss him deeply and rake her fingertips through his hair. 

“I’d say so,” she replied in a husky voice.

 

*******************************************************

  

Timothy Carlton woke from a light sleep thinking he had to use the loo.  He then realized that it was the light from the floor lamp across the room shining directly in his eyes that roused him.  Wanda was sitting in one of the two twin chaise lounges in front of the fireplace busily making notes on a pad. 

“For fucks sake, Wanda!  It’s after midnight. Are you still working on that menu for Monday’s dinner?” 

Wanda looked up.  “I thought you were sleeping.” 

“I was until I turned over and the light woke me.  Can you please turn off that infernal lamp and come to bed?” 

Wanda adjusted the lampshade.  “Is that better now?” 

“Yes.  You still haven’t told me why you’re still up.” 

“I want everything to be perfect for dinner with Donna’s family.  Not after that last debacle!” 

“What debacle?  The only time they were ever in our flat was for drinks and nibbles – unless I missed something?” 

“No.  That was the only time.” 

“It wasn’t that terrible was it?” 

“Yes it was.  I want to impress them with my cooking this time.” 

“And you will, Pet.  No one can surpass one of your superlative roasts with all the trimmings.” 

“Thank you for the vote of confidence, Tim.  I wish I were feeling it as well.” 

“What I’m feeling is sleepy.  Can you please come to bed?” 

“What do you think I should serve?” 

“I would think rat poison stew with a side of roasted hemlock, washed down with cyanide punch would be sufficient for those motherfuckers.” 

“Timothy Cumberbatch!  What happened to displaying a positive attitude for Benedict’s sake? Those ‘motherfuckers’ are going to be our in-laws, too, or have you forgotten your own inspirational lectures?” 

“I assure you I haven’t forgotten what I said, and no I’m not practicing what I preach.  It’s just sometimes when Ben relays how Toni tries to walk all over Donna, it makes me furious.” 

“I know they can be absolutely monstrous…” 

Timothy tapped his teeth with his index finger. “Monstrous is a mild word – even for you.” 

“Alright then.  He’s a right bastard, and she a cow who thinks she smells shit and tries to meddle in her children’s lives.  Aside from that they’re wonderful, and I foresee many happy holidays spent with them.  Satisfied?” 

“Exceedingly.  For a minute I feared I was in the wrong bedroom. You know I think Neil may actually harbour a soft spot for you since you are, after all, the author of his favourite hate letter.” 

“You can be such a cheeky bastard at times, Tim!” 

“Yes, I can Pet. Now, please come to bed.” 

“I’d say that Neil and I have an uneasy truce at best.  We agree to disagree.” 

“We’re all able to tolerate each other for short periods of time, but beyond that all bets are off.” 

“So, what shall I cook for Monday night's dinner?  A beef roast or lamb shoulder?  I need to settle on something and place my order with the butcher tomorrow.” 

“Just make your roasted chicken.” 

“I can’t.  There’s something weird with Toni, remember?  She doesn’t fancy sauces – don’t you remember what she does in restaurants?” 

“She has them put it on the side is all.  Certainly you can skip the sauce for once yes?” 

“I certainly can, but I won’t. Without the sauce it’s just an ordinary roasted chicken.  The sauce is what makes it special! The dish is meant to be brought to table with the sauce drizzled over the chicken.  The extra is served on the side.” 

“I see. You could still serve the sauce on the side yes?” 

“No, I can’t.” 

“You mean, no, you won’t.   I was under the assumption that we were doing our utmost to keep the peace with Donna’s parents, no matter how painful.” 

“Well, you were wrong.” 

“What’s gotten into you, Wanda!  We were getting on with them rather well in New York.” 

“Donna confides in me, just as Ben tends to confide in you. Toni is enough to make a person scream.  She still tries her best to influence and intimidate Donna from overseas the best she can.  If Toni had any idea that Donna and Benedict have been asking for our inputs as to the wedding, she’d be furious.” 

“I hate to be contrary, Pet; but Donna’s the one who has been actively soliciting our opinions, not Ben.” 

“Benedict seems to be alright with it though.  He hasn’t said anything to the contrary.  Has he said anything to you?” 

“Not yet, anyway.  I think the key to our success is because we just smile and nod and don’t offer an opinion until specifically asked for one.” 

“Well, we do want to be the good ones, as you so succinctly put it.” 

“That’s right, and we’re reaping the benefits.  We know everything that’s going on with the wedding plans.  Donna’s parents don’t find out until the decisions are a fait accompli.  You should be chuffed as fuck.” 

“Oh, I am; and you were right.” 

“Ah, those words have such a nice ring to them. Can I go back to sleep now?” 

“You know.  I think I will roast a chicken; and if Toni doesn’t like it, she can bloody well scrape the sauce off.” 

“Brilliant!  I’m glad that’s been sorted then…” 

“Or maybe I should make a pork belly roast.  That’s always been one of Benedict’s favourites.” 

“I thought you were cooking to impress the Saint James’, not Benedict this time.” 

“My son’s likes and dislikes are always taken into consideration first.” 

“What about mine?  I’m your loving and devoted foot soldier – not to mention husband!  Who risks setting off his arthritic back in the interest of pleasing you with a variety of sexual positions that would challenge a younger man? I worship the ground you walk upon, Commander.  I would take a bullet…” 

Wanda fixed him with a puzzled look.  “What are you going on about? You eat everything.” 

“And so does Ben.” 

“True.  I trained him to eat everything.” 

Timothy chuckled.  “You also trained Adam Ackland to eat everything as well.” 

“That boy was too damned fussy.  His mum coddled him!” 

“And that boy is now a grown man with a family of his own.” 

“Who now eats everything that’s placed in front of him…” 

_As a result of my wife’s insistence that young Adam had to at least try a bite of everything she put on his plate before refusing to eat it, bless her.  Wanda is proof that tough-love methods can work._

“…and thus is a good role model for his own children. Alice has me to thank for that.” 

“I’m sure Alice remembers you in her prayers every night.  Adam is a changed man thanks to you, Wanda. You’ve opened up a whole new culinary world to him for which I’m sure he’s forever grateful.” 

“I know bullshit when I hear it, Timothy Cumberbatch.” 

“I’m chuffed that you haven’t lost your ear for bullshit then.  So we’re having the chicken yes?” 

“No.” 

“Christ on a crutch, Wanda!” 

_My wife’s indecisiveness is killing me tonight.  Now I know where Benedict gets that incessant waffling habit of his from, bless them both. I don’t give a toss about what she cooks to be honest!_

“I’m going with a beef roast and my famous stuffed Yorkshire puddings.” 

“Oh, you mean the happy accident Yorkshire puddings that Heather cocked up and you rescued?” 

“No one has to know.” 

“Rest assured, I will _never_ reveal your secrets, Commander; and speaking of rest:  Good night.” 

Timothy hunkered back down in bed and turned to face away from Wanda.  He closed his eyes and began to drift back off to sleep until his wife’s voice startled him. 

“I decided not to make a trifle for pudding.” 

“For fucks sake, Wanda!  I’m trying to sleep.  I don’t give a toss what you make for pudding.  You’re a brilliant cook; so whatever you make is sure to impress the fuck out of the lot of them.” 

Wanda kept prattling on as if he hadn’t spoken.  “I’m trying to decide whether to make chocolate raspberry mousse or an Eccles cake?  What do you think?” 

_I think there’s always trouble the minute they start to think.  What do I think she asks? I think sleep is going to allude me tonight is what I think. My kingdom for a power outage!  
_

“I think it’s after midnight, and I’m ready to go back to sleep,” replied Timothy wearily as he turned over to face Wanda.  

“Don’t be stropy now! I value your opinion, Tim.” 

“Since when?” Timothy snorted. 

“Since always.  Now, which pudding shall I make?” 

“I’d fancy the chocolate raspberry mousse.  It’s nice and light after a heavy meal – the perfect finish.” 

“Raspberries are out of season.” 

_Then why in the fuck did she even suggest the bloody thing?_

“How about a Bakewell tart?” 

“Your Bakewell tart with apricot jam is one of my favourite puddings.  You can always fill me in on what your decision is in the morning.  I’m sure whatever you choose will be delicious.” 

“Goodnight, Love,” said Wanda, blowing him a kiss. 

Timothy turned over and fell asleep instantly. 

“Hells bells!” shouted Wanda. 

Timothy stirred and sat up.  “The Eccles cake is fine.  I don’t have to have a Bakewell tart!  Whichever pudding you fancy making is absolutely fine with me!” 

“I can’t fucking believe this!” wailed Wanda. 

“It’s not paramount that I have a Bakewell tart, Love.” 

“Benedict texted me around ten thirty, and I didn’t even notice it – I was so caught up in menu planning.” 

“Is everything alright?” asked Timothy with concern. 

“Yes.  I mean no.  I mean Sunday’s fucked up!” 

“What’s wrong?” 

“It seems Donna is hosting a tree-trimming brunch at her flat on Sunday with her parents, Colin, Carly and Steven.” 

“Jolly good then.” 

“We’ve been invited as well.” 

“Oh.” 

“I had planned on cleaning the house and getting things ready for Monday night.” 

“I’m confused then.  Isn’t Mary coming to clean the flat on Friday as always?” 

“Yes, but I always give things a once over when special company is expected.” 

“So now Donna’s family is special.” 

“The last time they were here I caught Toni and Colin looking all around whilst we were occupied in the kitchen.” 

“Yes, I remember it well,” chuckled Timothy.  “I was mixing libations and you were spying on them from your favourite spot next to the pantry just inside the archway leading to the kitchen.” 

“I don’t spy from there,” snapped Wanda, tossing her head. 

“Of course you do!” retorted Timothy.  “I’ve caught you many times.” 

“I prefer the spot opposite the archway as it allows you to see the whole lounge,” corrected Wanda.  “The area beside the pantry is better for seeing the dining alcove and foyer.” 

“For fucks sake!” muttered Timothy under his breath. 

“I bet she came up and snooped around our room when we went out whilst we were in New York.” 

“Just like you snooped around their house whilst they were at work.” 

“I wasn’t snooping…” 

“I know.  You were curious, _Ben_.” 

“That wasn’t funny, Tim.” 

“It wasn’t supposed to be funny.  I was meant to shame you into curbing that obnoxious behaviour.” 

“I don’t shame easily and neither does Benedict,” declared Wanda proudly. 

_Why did I know deep down inside that those were wasted words?_

“Ben said that was because the old boy was taking photographs so he would have evidence that he had been in the famous Wanda Ventham’s humble abode to show off at his club.” 

“Wasn’t that sweet?” 

“Oh, wasn’t it just?” snarled Timothy.  “I find the whole idea revolting and was happy when Benedict told me he made Colin delete those photos.” 

“Donna sure is hell bent about putting us together all the time,” sighed Wanda.  “I don’t give a fig if I ever see them again.” 

“Donna wants nothing more than for all of us to get along, Pet.  There’s nothing wrong with her trying to foster togetherness in hopes that one day we will all actually get on.  Remember, Benedict’s the one who’s going to be constantly thrown together with them for the rest of his life.  We can always beg off and feign illness or say we’ve got other plans.  He’s truly stuck with the lot of them.” 

“They’re not like us.” 

“No.  They’re not.  Hopefully, Ben will find it in him to continue to stand up to them.  So far, he’s proven himself to be a worthy opponent.” 

“They do present a challenge, but it shouldn’t be like that!” 

“No, it shouldn’t, Wanda; but we can’t change peoples’ personalities.  We just have to work harder at trying to get along for our son’s sake.” 

“When you put it that way – there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to make Ben’s life easier.  Anyway, I think I might just make his signature pudding – the Deconstructed Black Forest Cake Trifle.  I won’t have time to do all the prep if we’re going to be at that tree-trimming brunch on Sunday.  It’ll have to wait for Monday.” 

“That’s a genius idea! And the best part is that we can both get some sleep now.  Agent Carlton is officially retiring for the night, Commander.” 

 

*****************************************************

  

Donna Saint James lay on her side, propped up on her elbow as she pondered the reason for Benedict’s still flaccid member.  She had spent the better part of half an hour attempting to get an erection out of him with no luck.  His penis remained as limp as when she had first touched him. 

_I wonder what’s wrong with him.  Benedict’s never failed to get a boner before.  Maybe he’s not in the mood; but he seemed ready and raring to go._

“I don’t know what’s wrong,” Benedict sighed with frustration as he lay on his back with his eyes closed.  

_Oh, yes you do, Benedict.  You can’t perform because you’re feeling guilty that you haven’t told Donna everything that happened here that night.  
_

“Maybe you’re just tired,” Donna suggested.  

“No.  I’m fine.  Believe me; the spirit is more than willing.” 

_But your failure to get a stiffy speaks volumes. Nothing she’s done has gotten a rise out of you.  
_

“It’s okay if you’re not in the mood, Ben Honey.” 

Benedict’s ice blue eyes fluttered open. “Oh, but I am!” he protested vehemently. 

_I was before!  She had to have felt that I wasn't completely soft. Hmmm..that was then and this is now.  It looks like there will be no fucking for me tonight._

He looked down at himself and noted that Donna’s eyes also followed his gaze as he uttered those words. 

_She must be thinking that my body has an odd way of showing my enthusiasm._

_Unfortunately, your dick tells a different tale, Ben Honey. I believe he really does want to though.  I’ll give it one last try.  
_

Donna leaned down and whispered into his ear.  “Tell me what I can do to entice you - how about a scalp massage?” 

_Hmmm…that might just do it.  It would also serve to relax me.  I feel so fucking tense right now – tense everywhere but where I need to be!_

“We could try that.” 

Benedict closed his eyes as he felt Donna’s fingertips work their way into his auburn curls and gently tug and massage his scalp the way he liked it. 

_I can’t believe I thought it was Olivia doing this to me when it was my watch band that got tangled in my hair!  She knew how to touch my scalp; but Liv could never work it the way Donna does.  Donna truly throws herself into it heart and soul.  Though sometimes I think Liv used to tug the wrong way if she were cross with me._

_Hmmm…nothing much is happening down there.  Usually, he starts to get aroused when I do this.  Not even a moan, nor any sign of his dick peeking out from underneath his foreskin.  
_

“Does this feel good, Ben?” 

“Yeah…it does.” 

_But not good enough to get stiff, and I need to be stiff if we’re going to do anything tonight.  Fuckity fuck fuck!  
_

“How’s this?” 

“You can cease with the scalp massage,” sighed Benedict with disgust and waving her off.  

“Oh, let’s not give up so soon. I want to feel you inside me, Honey!  I can just imagine your big, hard, throbbing dick grazing against my clit.  Ooooo…I love when you rub yourself against me…especially now that I’m aching for you… I want you to give me a nice, hard fuck so badly right now.” 

“Oh, and you have no idea how much I want to give it to you,” said Benedict sadly, as he closed his eyes again. 

_Wait a minute…I do believe I felt a tiny bit of tightening in my peen just now…no.  There’s nothing of merit. I’m a wee bit stiff; but I have a long way to go in order to be able to penetrate her successfully.  Oh, please don’t desert me now!  I need this so badly.  I’ve never felt this frustrated in bed!_

Benedict felt Donna climb on top of him and grind against him with her hips.  He could smell her arousal and rolled her onto her back.  Benedict turned onto his side and began to thrust his fingers in and out her vagina.  She took his hand and moved his thumb over her clitoris and demonstrated how she wanted him to touch her.  It didn’t take long for her muscles to clench around his fingers. 

_I’m chuffed that one of us is going to get off.   This will make three orgasms for her tonight.  I’m so fucking jealous, I could just spit! I’m limp as a wet noodle!_

Donna threw her head back and shouted his name. “Oh, BENEDICT!  You sexy bastard!  That was incredible!”   

_That was the closest she’s going to get to intercourse tonight, so I really hope she enjoyed it.  
_

He heard Donna sigh deeply with contentment as she moved onto her side in order to be face-to-face with him.  She wrapped her arms around him and pressed her hips against his as she began to gyrate against him. 

_Jesus fucking Christ!  Is she going for number four? She must be because this isn’t doing a motherfucking thing for me except to frustrate me even further!_

“Is there something else I can try to get you hard?  Just name it, and I’ll try it.” 

_Hmmm…this is my golden opportunity to request anal penetration.  I’ve got a package of unopened finger cots in the bottom of my nightstand just in case the topic ever arose - unlike me right now.  I wonder if she would be up to it doing a little experimenting.  She did say she’d do anything I fancy…Being blindfolded might be fun…I wonder if she would be up to a little dominatrix role play? I’ve never ventured into that much and would love to delve into it a little more. I’ve got that book of hers stashed away in my nightstand along with my other sexy paraphernalia.  
_

_What did I just say?  I may have opened up a can of sexual worms that I’m not prepared for.  I know he’s game for just about anything as long as we don’t hurt each other. Benedict’s hinted at trying new things several times now.  If he asks, I’m going to have to be a good sport and try my best to please him.  He’d do it for me in a heartbeat.  Hell, Ben’s given me three intense orgasms already tonight.  Who knows?  I may find I enjoy being even more adventurous in bed then what I’ve been.  He loves what I do with my nails, except not tonight.  Nothing is working for him.  I suppose I’m game as long as there is no pain involved.  
_

Sadly, even the ideas that were swirling through Benedict’s mind weren’t enough to get the slightest rise out of him.  His penis remained in its natural state. 

_I think we’ve exhausted all the tricks in her repertoire. It’s time to give up and get some sleep. I’m glad that I was able to bring her to climax twice with my tongue and once with my hand.  At least one of us got some pleasure tonight_. 

“Tell me what you want, Benedict,” Donna pressed him.  “I’ll do anything to make you happy.” 

Benedict shook his head.  “I’m afraid this just isn’t working for me tonight. You’ve used your hands and your mouth to no avail.  I guess we need to call it a night as far as I’m concerned.” 

“Maybe something a little bit out of the ordinary might do the trick.  Are you game?”  Donna winked at him. 

An image of him and Olivia, having sex on the beach in Greece suddenly came to mind.  The sun was setting, and they were in full view of the resort guests’ windows.  Benedict had been lying on his back, swim trunks untied as Olivia straddled him, wearing a long, gauzy skirt with no knickers underneath.  The danger of being observed had made things even more erotic and intense, and they both had climaxed within minutes. 

“I really do appreciate the offer; but nothing is happening for me as you can see – despite your best efforts, Darling.” 

“I feel bad that I couldn’t do anything for you.  I wanted to reciprocate what you did for me.” 

Another image came to Benedict.  This time it was him and Beth in the very same bed and lying on the same black satin sheets that he and Donna were laying on now.  He had entered Beth from behind and was holding tight to her hips as he thrust in and out for all he was worth.  Then they had switched positions while she penetrated his anus with her finger whilst touching herself.  The session had ended with her biting him in several places as he climaxed.  To his surprise it had done nothing for him…or was he afraid to admit to himself that it actually had intensified his orgasm just a little. 

_Stop lying to yourself, Benedict. You did find that tantalizing or you wouldn't have been able to come that time.  You came so hard it took awhile for you to come back down from the high._

“It’s not your fault, Donna.  Please understand that.  It just happens sometimes is all.” 

_Benedict’s right.  We all have had it happen to us…though surprisingly he’s never failed to bring me to orgasm since the first time he touched me._

_It’s my own fault for not telling you the whole truth. My problem is called guilt._

“How about we have a nice cuddle instead?  I know it’s not exactly a substitute for good sex.  Well, we always seem to have good sex…great actually…”  Donna let her voice trail off. 

Benedict smiled warmly at her.  “I’d go as far as to say we have spectacular sex.” 

“I once overheard a guy on the subway saying that there was no such thing as bad sex as all sex was good, and the two guys he was with agreed,” said Donna.  “Do you believe that?” 

“No.  At one time I might have thought that; but now I’d have to disagree with those blokes.  I’ve had my share of truly lousy sex.” 

Donna regarded him with a raised eyebrow.  “Care to elaborate?  When you say lousy sex what exactly do you mean by that?” 

“It all depends on how you connect with your partner.  Compatibility in bed is paramount to me – for example one is fond of giving love bites to show possession; but the other doesn’t like to be marked…or one partner is into oral sex and the other can’t bear to share such intimacy.  I also found I disliked the empty feeling that seemed to follow sex when I wasn’t in love with my partner.  That’s why I cherish what we have together so.” 

_This is why I really should tell you about what happened with Liv whilst you were in New York first thing in the morning. It’s too late for that now._

“Anyway, I would appreciate the closeness of a proper cuddle,” said Benedict as they moved even closer together into a tight embrace.  He kissed her tenderly.  “I love you, Donna. You’re my everything.” 

“I love you, too, Benedict Honey, and you’re mine.” 

_Not even my extra special pet name is working tonight.  Motherfucker!  
_

 

 

Many hours later Benedict lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling in the semi-darkness of his bedroom as Donna lay sleeping beside him.  She was on her side, facing him.  He raised himself up on his elbows in order to see the bedside clock, which was on her nightstand.  It was almost seven in the morning, and he had barely slept a wink.  

_The alarm’s just about to go off. It’s now or never.  You know you should tell her the truth, Benedict, you dolt.  There should be no secrets between you…except for what’s happened prior to us meeting.  Some of those things still need to remain buried…even though I’ve more or less addressed the majority of it.  
_

Benedict sat up and leaned over to switch on his bedside lamp.  The harsh light flooded the room, causing Donna to groan and pull the covers over her head. 

“Donna?” 

“Mmmmmm?” 

“There’s something I need to tell you.” 

Her muffled voice came from underneath the covers. “What time is it?” 

“Almost seven.” The alarm began to ring.  “And there it is - my wake up call.” 

“Please turn it off before I knock that damn thing on the floor.” 

_She’s awfully stropy this morning.  Usually she’s the one to bounce out of bed, the epitome of cheerfulness._

Benedict leaned over her and smacked the off button on the clock. 

“Okay.  The alarm’s been sorted.  Now, as I was starting to say…” 

“Can it please wait until eight?  I’m still feeling tired.” 

“No.  I have to get up and ready myself for work. I’m due at the BBC at nine, and this is of the utmost importance.  I’ll make us some coffee. That will wake you in no time.” 

_Did he say coffee?  Oh, hell no!  Not his coffee!!!_

“NO COFFEE!” barked Donna.  

“Okay.  Can you please come out of your burrow then?” 

Donna sighed and poked her head out of the covers.  She regarded him through eyes still bleary with sleep.  “Is it about the wedding?” 

“No.” 

Donna struggled into a sitting position and rubbed her eyes.  “I can’t believe I’m still so tired.” 

“Perhaps not getting to bed until half two has something to do with it.” 

“What do you want to tell me that can’t wait?” 

“It’s about Olivia and what really happened after we decorated the roof terrace.” 

Donna suddenly felt wide-awake as his words penetrated her sleep-fogged brain.  She sat up ramrod straight and stared into Benedict’s eyes, which appeared green in the lamp light.  Her heart suddenly began to race and her palms felt clammy. 

_Whoa hoa!  He suddenly wants to tell me what really happened???  What the heck?_

“Is this going to be a confession?” she asked nervously. 

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck.  “You might say that.”  He crinkled his nose and smiled at her. 

_Oh my God!  I just got a nose crinkle along with the cute little smile of guilt. He’s going to tell me that something happened between him and Olivia that night that I’m not going to like.  
_

“And then again, you might not.  I don’t know how or where to start, Donna.  Perhaps I should go back to the beginning; but you already know the circumstances that brought Liv and I together at the garden center.” 

Donna nodded as she felt the start of a headache. 

“Let’s see. As I said, I had been out walking and noticed the sign hanging over the Holly Bush; which inspired me to do some decorating in order to surprise you.  So I decided to have a wander about the garden center…” 

_Oh, shit!  He’s going to go through the whole how he bumped into her story again, and I’m in no mood for a repeat.  I just want him to stop waffling and get to the heart of it!_

Donna held up her hand to silence him.  “Just spit it out Benedict and save the waffles for breakfast,” She snapped.  “What happened after you decorated the roof terrace is the part I’m most interested in.” 

Benedict bit his lower lip and ran his hands through his sleep-mussed hair.  “We were both feeling hungry, so I ordered in a Chinese takeaway.” 

_So far, that was nothing out of the ordinary. I could understand they’re being hungry and deciding to order in dinner._

“We got to talking and wound up polishing off a bottle of wine with it and had one of my famous hot buttered rums.  By then we were both well on our way to being…pleasantly tipsy as neither of us had had much to eat before we started drinking.” 

_They had a whole bottle of wine and hot buttered rum on top of that.  That’s not pleasantly tipsy.  That’s beyond pleasantly tipsy._

“I get it. You were both drunk.” 

“Erm…you might say that.”  Benedict held his thumb and index finger less than an inch apart.  “We may have been a tiny bit drunk.” 

“Go on,” said Donna. 

“We got to reminiscing about the past and how things were, which brought up old feelings and we almost kissed…” 

“Whoa.  Let’s back up here a moment.  You and Olivia almost kissed?” 

“Yeah, and I’m so ashamed, Love.  We got carried away by the booze and old feelings…and one thing rapidly led to another…and before we both knew it…” 

“But you didn’t act on it.” 

“Correct.  We both suddenly realized that neither of us wanted to continue with the kiss, which would have led to...well…to other things no doubt.  We realized what a mistake that would be to act on an impulse based on old feelings that we no longer had for one another.  We’ve both moved on – Liv has Roger in her life; and I have you.  Neither of us wanted to cock that up on a drunken impulse.  You are the love of my life, Donna; and I would never do anything to jeopardize that trust and love that we’ve built.” 

_Oh, God, how I hate it when he talks about trust.  Maybe I should give it one more try and tell him about the Plan._

“That’s how I feel, Benedict.  I also don’t ever want to ruin what we have over something silly…” 

_One might construe that the Plan was silly…unless you’re the one the Plan was conceived around.  Then one might be pissed off._

“You think that was silly?” 

“Well, it wasn’t silly per se.  You and Olivia almost crossed the line but had the good sense to pull back from the brink.  I can understand how something almost happened; but the important thing is that nothing did.  Good common sense prevailed; and you two acted like mature, responsible adults in spite of being inebriated.” 

Benedict let out the breath he had been holding with relief.  “You’re not angry then?” 

“Nope.” 

“I’ve been so upset…that’s why I couldn’t get an erection last night.  This has been praying on my mind.” 

“As you like to say, it’s in the past; so I don’t want to hear about it again.  Now, there is one little thing that I’ve been meaning to tell you…” 

“Wait.  I’m not finished. There is something else that has been bothering me that I need to tell you.” 

_And he won’t let me get a word in edgewise until he’s done._

“What?” 

“I dreamt that night that Liv and I did follow through on the kiss.” 

“That doesn’t sound so awful.  I’ve had dreams about my exes, but they don’t mean anything. We can’t control our dreams, Benedict.” 

“It was so realistic, Donna!  I could swear that we had gone to bed together.” 

“But you didn’t.” 

“No!  Of course not!” 

“Then let’s forget it.” 

“Olivia did wind up spending the night here.” 

“What?  I thought you just said that nothing happened!” 

“Nothing did.  It was strictly platonic. I was off my face and went to bed alone, leaving her out in the lounge to fend for herself.” 

“That wasn’t very gentlemanly of you,” snorted Donna. 

“It wasn’t one of my prouder moments to be sure.  Anyway, Liv slept on the couch and that’s all there was to it.  It was completely innocent, I swear.” 

“Thank you for telling me, Benedict. That explains why I found Olivia’s lipstick case in the bathroom.” 

Benedict’s eyes widened in surprise. “That wasn’t yours then?” 

Donna shook her head.  “Nope.  I’ll return it to her at Mark’s wedding.” 

“You’re really not cross with me.” 

“You say that with such wonderment.” 

“I did expect you to be angry.” 

“Why should I be?  You didn’t do anything for me to be angry about.” 

_Oh, but I did plenty that you would be angry with me for._

“Ben?” 

“Mmmmm?” 

“There’s something I’ve wanted to tell you for some time now.” 

Benedict kissed her neck and buried his face in between her breasts.  “We agreed:  no bringing up the past.  Now, please shut up and kiss me.” 

“But Ben Honey, I really do want to…” 

Benedict pushed his now erect penis against her thigh as he panted with growing lust. “Hush, woman!  Do you want to let a perfectly good erection go to waste whilst you tell me about some shit that happened in the past that I don’t give a toss about?” 

_Oh you’d give more than a toss if you knew what it was.  You’d toss me out on my ass if you knew.  
_

“But Benedict…” _  
_

“I’ve already told you time and again that what’s happened in our pasts need to remain buried there!” growled Benedict, as his hands cupped her breasts and he gently kneaded her nipples. 

“But you just told me about something that happened in the past!” 

“That was the recent past and doesn’t count…”

“I think you keep saying that because there are things you don’t want to have rear their ugly heads in your past.” 

“Let’s not go there!  _Please_!” he said, clearly exasperated.  “I don’t ever want to hear another word about our pasts as long as we both shall live!  We know all there is to know about each other that’s important.” _  
_

_No, you don’t._

“Now, please shut the fuck up and pay some attention to my dick!” he commanded as he flicked her nipples with the tip of his tongue and gently sucked each one. 

Donna gasped as waves of pleasure washed over her at his touch, and she reached out and began to slowly and steadily stroke his swollen, throbbing cock causing him to moan loudly _.  
_

_Fuck it.  He doesn’t want to know, so I’ll continue to keep the Plan to myself.  His priority is to get laid, and I shall make sure I make his toes curl.  
_

“You’re right, it would be a shame to let such a fine and splendid erection go to waste!” 

“You’ve learnt my thrifty ways well,” Benedict gasped as she slid a fingertip underneath his foreskin. “Always take advantage of a stiffy.” 

“As you would say:  I’m a credit to you.” 

“Just make sure to put me to good use…like that.  Oh yes!  Christ, yes!” he moaned. 

Donna Saint James smiled seductively at Benedict Cumberbatch. “No worries, Ben Honey, being the thrifty girl that I am, I intend to make more than good use of this – your satisfaction guaranteed.”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your patience in between chapters. It's been much less stressful posting every other week.


	157. Chapter 157

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Benedict and Donna go to the May Fair Hotel to meet with the wedding planner. P.S. It may be helpful to re-read Chapter 14 (yes, that far back – LOL). 
> 
> Note: I’ll be using *************** for things happening at the same time.

 

Benedict Cumberbatch strode into the lobby of the May Fair Hotel feeling very smug and quite pleased with himself.  He was thirty minutes earlier than the agreed upon time that he was to meet Donna Saint James, for their appointment with the events planner.  Benedict’s ice blue eyes swept the lobby for any sign of his fiancée. 

_What’s this?  No Donna in sight!  I fully expected to find her sat here in the lobby waiting for me as she’s always early.  I love that I arrived at our meeting place first for once!  Well done, me!  
_

Benedict pondered his options and glanced at his watch.  He pulled out his mobile and took a selfie of himself proudly pointing to the time on his watch and sent it off to Donna.  _  
_

_There.  Proof that I can be early – I wish I could see her reaction when she gets that. Oh…that may have been premature. We did agree to meet inside the bar.  Perhaps Donna’s already gone into the bar._

Benedict entered the bar, which was just off the lobby and scanned the room.  Donna was nowhere to be seen. 

_Brilliant!  I truly am early!  I think I’ll order a drink and return some phone calls whilst I wait for her.  Won’t Donna be shocked as hell to see me already here?  
_

He took a seat at one of the small tables for two close to the bar and ordered a gin and tonic.  As he waited for his drink, Benedict noticed an especially attractive blonde-haired woman seated at another table close by. The woman was absorbed in the paperwork laid out on the table in front of her and would pause occasionally to sip from a tall glass of mineral water with a decorative wedge of lime perched on the rim. 

_Haha!  I deduced she was drinking mineral water because there is a half-empty bottle on the table.  I’m really getting into Sherlock mode now!_

The server brought Benedict his drink along with a silver bowl.  The bowl was divided into two compartments and contained two varieties of mixed nuts.  One section was filled with heavily salted cashews, macadamias, shelled pistachios, hazelnuts and Brazil nuts. The other section was filled with spicy butter-toffee coated peanuts. 

_It was as if the bloke knew I was feeling peckish. I love free nibbles, and these look and smell delightful._

Benedict sampled a couple of each kind of nut. _Mmmm…these nuts are yummy as Donna would say._   _I must be careful not to finish them so as not to spoil my appetite for later on, not to mention I’ve got to be able to fit into those tight suits for Sherlock. That blasted tailor from Spencer Hart neglected to give me much leeway, which is most likely per Mark and Steven’s specifications.  They insist that Sherlock have a lean silhouette, even if it means I can’t fucking breathe.  
_

Benedict began to munch on the nuts as he returned Adam Ackland’s call.  Adam answered after three rings: 

_“Hellooooo and Happy Christmas!”_

“Bloody hell!  Aren’t you a bit early to be wishing your callers glad tidings of the season?”  

_“It’s never too early, Mate!  I’m feeling rather festive this evening.”  
_

“Are you helping Alice with the mulled wine?” 

_“I’m acting as official taster this year.”_

“You’re the official taster every year.” _  
_

_“True.  True. By the way, how in the hell did you know I was helping Alice?”_

“Part lucky guess and because you have caller ID on your mobile and normally would have greeted me with:  Happy Christmas, you bloody wanker.  You also sound as if you’re a bit off your face.” 

_“Ah, practicing for Sherlock are we?  Well, truth be told, I’m well into my third glass, so yeah, I guess I might be just a little pissed.”_

“I can’t believe Alice’s is letting you drink on a week night.  Don’t you have work tomorrow?” 

_“It’s not as if I have school tomorrow, Mum.  I’m also not driving.  I’m safe and snug in our warm little house, and I’m not needed on set until tomorrow afternoon. Where are you calling from?  I hear music in the background, and you sound like you’re eating.”  
_

“The May Fair Bar, which by the way, serves the most brilliant spiced gratis nuts along with the drinks.  Donna and I are meeting with the events planner before we catch up with my family for dinner.” 

_Where are you going?”_

“Donna was supposed to re-review Jamie Oliver’s restaurant – the one that’s trying to replicate authentic American-style comfort food; and tonight’s the night we’re going to try it again.” 

_“OH!  I remember that first review.  She didn’t fancy anything! Alice and I actually felt bad for the poor sod. Who’s on tonight’s review team?”  
_

“Mum and Dad, Tracy and her family.  There will be eight of us all told. Let’s hope Jamie’s kitchen is on point tonight for his sake.  I’m terrified to imagine what Donna will write if she has another less than perfect experience.  Her more scathing reviews have actually caused restaurants to close.” _  
_

_“Alice asked me to ring you to make sure we’ll still on for dinner and the play at the National next Wednesday.”_

“Yeah.  I’ve got the tickets, and Donna took care of the pre-theatre dinner booking at Restaurant Gordon Ramsey.” 

_“I don’t know if Alice and I are more looking forward to eating there or helping to review it.”_

“There’s nothing quite like having a first-class meal when the Tribune is picking up the bill is there?” 

_“Let’s face it, Ben.  Neither of us could afford to eat there given our current financial status.”_

“That’s what makes it all the more of a treat yes?” 

_“Definitely.  Thank your friend for getting us tickets to All’s Well That Ends Well.  We’re also looking forward to seeing it.”  
_

“You can chalk that up to my having a friend in the production,” chuckled Benedict as he helped himself to some more of the spicy nuts. 

As he chewed the nuts and swallowed, Benedict felt a horrific burning on his tongue and in the back of his throat.  He began to cough and sputter, as his eyes started to water profusely.  

_My God!  The first ones I had weren’t this spicy!_

“Got to run, Adam.  I’m about to choke in public. Cheers!” he rasped, clutching at his burning throat. 

_Jesus fucking Christ!  What in the hell did those wankers put in these motherfucking nuts?  I need water!_

Suddenly, a bottle of mineral water appeared in front of him.  “Here, try some of this,” said a female voice. 

“Thanks,” croaked Benedict, accepting the bottle and downing the contents.  He couldn’t see who had come to his rescue, as his eyes were still watering; but the voice was unmistakably female. 

“James, could we please have a cold glass of milk over here as soon as feasible?” the voice called out with an authoritative ring.  

“Yes, Ma’am,” came the response.  “Right away!” 

Benedict pulled his handkerchief out of his trousers pocket and began to dab at his eyes. He was aware of a hand rummaging in the nut bowl and heard a crunch. 

“Please don’t eat those!” he pleaded in a hoarse voice whilst still wiping his eyes.  His tongue and throat continued to burn as if they had been set on fire. 

“Any better?” 

“It was for a few seconds!” The water had helped a bit but the intense burning still remained.  “My God!” Benedict rasped.  “It won’t stop burning!” 

“I didn’t think so.  Sometimes water only makes it worse; but I couldn’t risk your choking.” 

_Motherfucking nuts!  I hope my vocal cords haven’t been compromised! My career will be ruined!  
_

Benedict heard urgent footsteps approach his table. “Here’s the milk, Ma’am.” 

“Thank you, James,” the owner of the voice said.  “Please inform the staff to cease serving these nuts to our customers immediately.  I just tasted one, and they’re unacceptable. Let the kitchen know that someone was too heavy-handed with the cayenne pepper…” 

_Heavy-handed is a gross understatement_ , thought Benedict.  

“…and I want the Executive Chef to report back to me as to who’s responsible for this inexcusable faux pas. Tell him I also want a new batch made immediately. This gentleman’s bill is also to be taken care of.”  

“Yes, Ma’am.  Right away, Ma’am.”  Then came the sound of James’ footsteps retreating in the direction of the bar. 

Benedict’s vision finally cleared, and he looked up to see the attractive blonde-haired woman who had been sitting nearby holding out a glass of milk to him.  “This will do the trick, I promise.” 

“Thank you,” was all Benedict could manage to rasp as he took the glass and downed the cold milk gratefully. 

“Dairy products help to ease the burn from the capsaicin,” said the woman with a smile.  “Please accept my deepest apologies on behalf of the May Fair Bar.  These nuts never should have left the kitchen in the first place.” 

Benedict nodded.  “Thank you, the milk worked wonders.  I appreciate your coming to my rescue.” 

“You’re welcome.”  She flashed a brilliant white smile at him. 

The woman seemed to be studying Benedict closely, which made him feel a bit uncomfortable.   She appeared as if she wanted to continue the conversation but was uncertain on how to go about it. 

_Why is this woman staring at me like that?  She really is quite stunning close up.  Maybe she’s going to ask if she could join me? Perhaps we’ve met before? She does look familiar, but I feel like a total tit asking her.  I wouldn’t want her to think I’m trying to chat her up, but it will eat at me all night if I don’t ask her.  
_

As Benedict was about to open his mouth to tell the woman that she seemed familiar to him, she beat him to the punch. 

“Excuse me, but I have to ask you:  are you Benedict Cumberbatch?”

 _Blimey! I can’t believe it! Bloody fucking hell!  Don’t tell me this woman actually recognizes me from my work!  That’s never happened to me before.  I feel as if I can’t breathe.  How exciting is this? I can’t wait to ring up John and Karon to tell them.  I wish Donna were here to bear witness to such an exciting moment!_

When Benedict seemed taken aback by her question, the woman’s face reddened slightly.  He rubbed the back of his neck and smiled shyly at her. 

“Erm…Yeah, I am.”

“I knew it! I never forget a face.” 

“How did you recognize me exactly? Was it from one of my works…I’m an actor,” Benedict replied proudly.  

The woman blushed with what Benedict took to be embarrassment and shook her head.  “To be honest, I haven’t seen anything you’ve done.  However, what caused me to recognize you tonight were two articles that I had recently read.  One was in the Times about you being cast as the lead in the National Theater’s revival of _After the Dance_ next year.  I’ve always adored Terrance Rattigan, so that captured my interest.  The other one was that recent article in the London Tribune concerning the BBC’s reboot of Sherlock Holmes that you’re starring in.  I recognized you from the photographs that accompanied the articles; though your hair is quite a bit longer than when I first laid eyes on you. You’re going to have quite a busy year ahead.” 

“Yes, which is paramount for an actor,” quipped Benedict.  “Frankly, it’s an embarrassment of riches.” _I’m completely baffled._ So _she’s not familiar with any of my past works, so how in the hell does she know me if not from those two articles?_ “Erm…you mentioned the first time you saw me.  Am I to understand that we’ve met before tonight then?”   

The woman laughed.  “We haven’t met literally; but I feel as if I know you from speaking with your mother.” 

It suddenly dawned on Benedict where he had seen the woman and who she was.  

_Oh, now I know who she is!  She’s Mum’s Literary Agent!  The one she had the row with over lunch in this very hotel back in the spring.  John and I were sat in the same dining room as them. He had invited me to lunch that day so I could sign the Sherlock contract, and Mum and Dad were across the room having lunch with her…and then all hell broke out and Mum upended the table and stomped out of the dining room in a strop. I’ve never seen her so furious except for the time I cocked up the Mini Cooper’s gearbox.  I remember that Dad tried to pretend that he didn’t know Mum, but that didn’t work.  She dressed him down in front of everyone, and he followed her out like the dutiful and supportive husband he is, bless him.  
_

Benedict smiled at her.  “Yes, now I remember you.  You’re my mother’s Literary Agent.” 

The woman narrowed her eyes and frowned at Benedict.  “Literary Agent?  Why I’m not a Literary Agent!  I’m the General Manager of the May Fair -   Samantha Collingwood at your service.”  She held out her hand in order to shake Benedict’s, who winced as she clasped his tightly and pumped it. 

_For fucks sake!  I’ve never in my life experienced a grip like hers! She has a grip like a motherfucking vice!  Owwwwww that hurts like a bitch!_

“Pardon my mistake, Miss…” 

“Missus,” corrected Samantha, flashing her left hand so Benedict could view the diamond-encrusted wedding band.  There was also a huge diamond engagement ring on her right hand that rivaled the one Antonia Saint James wore.   

“My mother was in the process of arranging a book deal to write her memoirs, and I mistakenly assumed you were her literary agent.” 

_Why in the fuck were Mum and Dad lunching with the General Manager of the May Fair?_

“That’s quite alright.  I had no idea Miss Ventham was in the process of writing her memoirs.  Does she have that much material for a book?” 

“Apparently so,” replied Benedict.  

“When does she expect the book to be published?” 

_Hmmm…that’s an excellent question.  Mum never said another word about her memoirs.  I’m going to have to ask her whatever happened.  Funny…I thought it was supposed to be a secret from Dad, but he was sitting with them. So, she’s not a Literary Agent.  She's the hotel's manager. What business could they possible have with her?  
_

“I have no idea,” replied Benedict, rubbing his thigh furiously.  _But that’s a damn good question._ “I still don’t understand how you knew what I looked like.” 

“I recognized you from the photograph your mother showed me the day we met for lunch.” 

_Fuckity fuck fuck!  I should have known!  It was one of Mum’s matchmaking attempts, bless her!  Now, how in the hell did they wind up having lunch together?  I wonder if it were a completely random meeting somewhere.  Mum loves to strike up conversations with total strangers – especially, young, attractive women who she feels might be good daughter-in-law material. Thank God I’m getting married so this kind of shit can be put to rest once and for all!_

“I have to tell you that I was very impressed with the amount of trust you put in your mother to even allow her to aid you in finding a suitable…life partner.” 

“Christ,” muttered Benedict under his breath.  

“Not many sons would tolerate their mothers taking such an active interest in their happiness, let alone initiate it!” 

“My mother has always been a self-starter, bless her,” quipped Benedict.   

_Forever going behind my back! God only knows what Mum told her. I wonder if she’s one of the women that Mum was showing the Sherlock photos from the pilot to._

“Kudos to you, Mr. Cumberbatch, for being so open minded.  I was very much in the same situation as you..."

_Oh, I bet you weren't, Sweetheart._

"...consumed with work, only meeting complete dolts..."

_Okay.  That I can identify with. I still cringe whenever I think of Beth and her blasted motherfucking nails...tap, tap, tap.  Christ._

"...well-meaning friends always tried to match me up with their friends, brothers or cousins..."  

_Who always turned out to be tits._

"...and those dates were always a disaster!"

_Hahaha!  Mark's cousin, Eliza.  What a mistake it was to date her!_

"...there was never any time to get out there and really search for the right person."

Benedict nodded.  "True.  I can identify with everything you've been saying."

"I was actually considering taking the same route as you did when fate intervened, and I met my husband at an hotelier’s convention in Paris.  He happens to be the General Manager of the Langham.”

_And what route was that?_

"Jolly good then that you managed to get it all sorted out."

_She is obviously one of the birds Mum came across and started talking to.  She also somehow got the idea from Mum that I condoned her intervening on my behalf.  I'd apologize, but she doesn't seem at all bothered or phased by Mum.  
_

"I’m afraid my mother is a frustrated match-maker at heart.” 

_And once the Wanda Express left the station, there was no stopping her. I would have only been too happy if Mum were to have set her sights on finding you a husband rather than a wife for me!  I still want to know how they met._

“May I ask how you and my mother came to…” 

Just then Benedict caught sight of Donna standing just inside the entrance to the bar.  He felt the familiar butterflies in his stomach and raised his hand in greeting. Donna smiled brilliantly at him as she made her way towards his table. 

“And there’s my fiancée, punctual as ever.  We have an appointment to meet with an events planner about possibly holding our wedding here,” Benedict explained to Samantha whilst getting to his feet and buttoning his suit jacket. 

 

*********************************************

  

Donna Saint James hurried into the lobby of the Mayfair Hotel and scanned the lobby for any sign of Benedict Cumberbatch before asking one of the bellmen for directions to the restroom. 

_Benedict did say he’d meet me in the bar.  I don’t know why I’m rushing like a lunatic? He won’t be here.  I’ve got plenty of time to use the bathroom and check my messages before he arrives. I’ll probably have to go find the wedding planner myself and apologize for his being late.  
_

After using the restroom, Donna approached the entrance to the bar and got the surprise of her life.  There sat Benedict at one of the small tables for two chatting with a tall, slender, blonde-haired woman sporting a perfectly-coifed bob haircut. 

_Good gravy!  Doesn’t Benedict look handsome?  I love that he thought to wear his navy blue suit.  Not only is my honey here; but apparently he was early judging from the half-drunk gin and tonic in front of him!  It’s a miracle!  I wonder who that woman is he’s talking to.  
_

Benedict suddenly glanced her way and broke out into a huge smile as he raised his hand in greeting at her.  The woman turned and looked Donna over from head to toe as she crossed the room towards them. 

_Wow!  She’s gorgeous.  I wonder if she’s the wedding planner.   I bet everything she’s wearing is custom-made haute couture.  Look at those diamonds!  That’s one impressive-looking bird as Wanda would say. I like how she’s giving me the once-over just like I’m giving her, only I think I’m far more subtle about it.  Hahaha!  
_

Benedict had risen from his seat, buttoned his suit jacket and met her with a tender kiss on the lips.  “Hello Darling, you’re looking ravishing tonight.  Are you surprised to find me here?” _  
_

“Yes, I am!” Donna felt herself blush as she returned his kiss and smiled up at him.  _He never fails to make me feel as if I’m the most beautiful woman in the room, even if it isn’t true._

The woman smiled warmly at Donna.  Donna noticed she was staring quite openly at her engagement ring.  

 

***************************************************

  

“Christ, where are my manners?” exclaimed Benedict suddenly.  “This is my fiancée, Donna Saint James,” he said to Samantha.  “Donna, this is Samantha Colling…”  Benedict hesitated as he desperately tried to come up with Samantha’s last name.  _Bollocks!  I’ve gone and forgotten her name already._

“Wood,” finished Samantha, holding out her hand to Donna. “Samantha Collingwood,” she said, offering her hand to Donna.  “I was just chatting with your fiancé about our Dante’s Inferno Mixed Nuts.” 

“Sounds like my kind of nuts,” said Donna, smiling at Benedict and winking.  “I love hot and spicy nuts.” 

Benedict felt himself blush momentarily.  _Oh, how she loves her double entendres, bless her._

“The bar nuts were horrifically over-spiced,” explained Benedict, gesturing to the silver dish.  “I wound up burning my throat on a mouthful and Samantha was kind enough to bring me some milk to cool the burning sensation.” 

_Her name is Samantha.  Oh my God!  Could this be the woman Wanda and Tim were in a tizzy about named Samantha?  Wait.  That woman had a different last name.  I can’t remember what it was though. It was one of those hyphenated ones.  I have it saved in my cellphone. I wish I could look it up but I don’t dare.  That would be rude._

Benedict watched in horror as Donna’s face blanched as the two women shook hands.  She visibly winced as Samantha gripped and pumped her hand. 

_Crap!  That hurt!  This could very well be the same woman.  Tim and Wanda had commented on her vice-like grip.  I wonder.  Maybe it's just coincidence.  Poor Benedict looks as if he’s already had the experience. Her last name is Collingwood.  Ah, ha!  So she’s the substitute wedding planner we were supposed to see. What a small world._   

“You’ll have to forgive our rushing off; but we have an appointment with the events planner,” said Benedict apologetically.  “It was very good of you to rescue me from those blasted nuts earlier.” 

“Benedict, this _is_ the wedding planner,” said Donna quietly.  “We have an appointment to meet with you to discuss our options,” she said to Samantha who nodded her agreement and consulted her mobile. 

“That’s right:  Donna Saint James and Benedict Cumberbatch.  Daphne asked if I would be kind enough to fill in for her tonight.  Please come with me, and we can start in Daphne’s office,” suggested Samantha.  “I’m an old pro when it comes to wedding planning as that’s how I started out here at the May Fair.”   She put her hand inside the pocket of her jacket and removed two business cards, handing one to Donna and one to Benedict. 

Donna read the name on the card: 

Samantha Alden-Thomas 

_NOOOOO!  That’s her!  I wonder if Barrister Ben has had time to cross examine her yet – that’s if he even remembers her.  He doesn’t have that look that he gets whenever he’s on to something._

“I just got married recently, so I haven’t had a chance to have new cards printed up yet with my husband’s surname,” clarified Samantha as they followed her to the office.  “I never thought I’d ever take my spouse’s name if I were to marry; but now that I am married, I feel differently. There are so many things that have to be attended to when one gets married as I’m sure you two are just discovering.” 

As Benedict brought up the rear behind Donna and Samantha, he suddenly had a flashback to the day he had found an email that he could still swear was from Donna up on the screen of his parents’ PC in Kensington.  He could hear both his and his mother’s voices clearly inside his head:

 

 **"Who's Donna Saint James?"**  
  
"She's my literary agent."  
  
"Did she offer you a book deal, then? Did I catch you and Dad celebrating? Ooh, would you mind terribly if I read it? I'll keep it to myself! Promise." 

Benedict recalled how he had turned to read the body of the email when Wanda had purposefully stepped on the power cord and severed the connection, thus ensuring that he could not finish reading the contents of the message.  Wanda had sworn it was an accident; but Benedict always knew better. 

_How many literary agents named Donna Saint James could there be in London?  Something’s not right, and I’m going to get to the bottom of this if it’s the last thing I do._

“Yes, I’m discovering an awful lot of things,” agreed Benedict.  _That don’t make sense…so many thoughts are swirling around in my head right now.  I’ve got to make some time to sit down and properly evaluate all this weird behaviour once the wedding planning is sorted._

***********************************************

Wanda Ventham was stood in her kitchen in Kensington, removing a pan of bite-sized mincemeat pies from the oven whilst humming a Christmas tune to herself when her husband came rushing into the room waving her mobile at her.  

“If you’re looking to nick a mincemeat pie, you’re far too early.  They just came out of the oven and need time to properly cool off or did you bring me my mobile with the intent for me to ring you up when they’re ready for tasting?” 

“No!” 

“They’ll be ready for tasting by the time we get back from dinner…” 

“I’m not here for a taste of your pies even though they’re the best in London!  I was bringing the ornaments out of the cupboard when I heard your text chime go off several times.” 

“So you thought you would check it for me then?”  Wanda asked as she began to carefully remove the tiny pies from the pan onto a wire cooling rack. 

Timothy nodded.  “Exactly, and I’m glad I did…” 

“Was there anything of interest or did Judi finally decide to try her hand at baking and needs guidance?” 

“The messages are all from Donna.  There’s been a development at the May Fair, Commander.” 

Wanda placed the still hot pie pans in the sink and removed her Christmas tree patterned oven gloves.   She pushed her sleeves up over her elbows. 

“Do they find they actually fancy the May Fair for their wedding breakfast?  It is a lovely venue. Do they want us to pop over to give our opinion?  If so, tell Donna that she’s bang out of luck this time.  Bloody hell!  I’ve got to finish getting dressed so we can meet them at Jamie Oliver’s restaurant on time for the review.  Maybe she can send us pictures of the rooms, and we can discuss it over dinner.” 

“I wish that’s all it was!” 

“Hells bells!  What’s happened?” 

“Plenty!” 

“For fucks sake, Tim!  You’re starting to waffle on just like our Ben.” Wanda washed her hands and removed her Christmas apron before going to stand beside her husband.  “Give me your reading glasses so I can read them!” she demanded, holding out her hand. 

“You still got bits of dough on your hands, you’ll dirty my glasses!” 

“Alright then – quick as you can!  Read them to me!” 

Timothy gave her a mock salute.  “Aye, Commander - Right away it shall be. This is the first one:  The woman you warned me about is here.” 

“Samantha Alden-Thomas?” 

Timothy held up a hand and read the next text:  “She goes by the name of Samantha Collingwood now.  Obviously she’s gotten married and uses her husband’s name.” 

“Collingwood is the name of the wedding planner Donna and Ben are supposed to meet with tonight.” 

“I told you this wasn’t an optimum situation, Commander.” 

“Well, what else did Donna say?” 

“That’s Ben appears to be oblivious to who she is other than the stand-in wedding planner.” 

Wanda sighed with relief.  “Oh, jolly good then. We’re safe for the time being.” 

“Donna found them chatting in the bar when she arrived.” 

“That’s not good. What were they chatting about?” 

“Donna doesn’t say, but if he were in Barrister Ben mode, she’d alert us.  They were probably just discussing the wedding.” 

“Tim, that bitch would recognize Ben.  I showed her his headshot, remember?” 

“I tried so very hard to wipe that lunch from my mind.” 

“She was a very sharp bird that one.” 

“I can’t say what’s going on for sure as I’m not there, Commander.  Shall I slip into my surveillance gear and head over to the May Fair to see if I can shadow them?  I still have the cap and sunglasses I used for the Parliament Hill Farmer’s Market mission.” 

“What else did Donna say?” 

“She confirms that said bitch is still the General Manager and has taken her husband’s surname, which is Collingwood.  According to Donna, she started out as a wedding planner there.” 

“It doesn’t take a genius to figure that out,” scoffed Wanda.  “Oh, this is terrible, Tim!  So much can go wrong!  So much is at stake!  We’ve got to do something!” 

Timothy regarded her with a raised eyebrow.  “Such as?” 

Wanda sighed and shook her head in disgust. 

“I didn’t think you had anything of substance to contribute,” snickered Timothy. 

“Did Donna say anything else?” 

“Only that Samantha is showing them around the various function rooms and seems nice enough.” 

“A lot she knows!” spat Wanda.  “That cow called our son horse-faced!” 

“Words I shan't not soon forget, Love.” 

“Oh, how I wish I were there, Tim!” 

“That makes two of us.  We’ll have to trust that all goes well and nothing comes up about the Plan.” 

“Unless it already did prior to Donna’s arrival, and Ben chose to save it for a later discussion.” 

“I find that highly unlikely.  Barrister Ben would be chomping at the bit to delve into it more.” 

“Why of all nights, did Donna have to be late?” 

“She wasn’t late according to her text, Wanda.  It turns out Ben was early for once.  Donna even sent you the photo our son took of himself to prove it.” 

“For fucks sake!” wailed Wanda as she crossed the kitchen and turned off the oven. “Why of all times, did our son suddenly decide to become punctual?” 

“An excellent question, Commander, to which I’m afraid I don’t have the answer.  Let’s finish dressing and head over to the restaurant.  I’m sure you and Donna will manage to go to the rest room together so you can debrief her properly.” 

“I shan’t be long, Tim. Give me ten minutes.” 

“But we don’t need to be there _that_ early.” 

“I don’t know about you, but I fancy a potent drink before dinner. I have a feeling we might need one to fortify us just in case our son unexpectedly shifts into Barrister Ben mode.” 

“You’re right.  It wouldn’t hurt to be prepared.” 

“Excuse me, Tim; but could you say that again please.” 

“It wouldn’t hurt to be prepared.” 

“No.  What you said prior to that.” 

Timothy laughed.  “You’re right.” 

Wanda gave him a cheeky grin as she passed behind him and patted him on the bottom.  “No wonder you’re so happy whenever I say that – it really is marital music to the ears!” 

 

******************************************************

  

Benedict Cumberbatch and Donna Saint James stood in the doorway of the May Fair Hotel’s Crystal Room, which had been set up for a fiftieth wedding anniversary party to be held that evening when Donna's text chime went off. She read the message and laughed out loud.

"What so funny?" inquired Benedict.

"It was from you saying that you're here early...with a photograph to prove it!  Vodafone's speedy text message delivery service at work once again.  I've got to get rid of them."

"I was wondering why you didn't say anything," laughed Benedict. "I think you should switch to O2.  I think their service is brilliant and I've been wanting to get a new mobile.  I'm sure we can save money if we sign up for a plan together."

"Okay. Let's take care of that tomorrow."

Benedict gazed over his shoulder in the direction Samantha had gone. "Where did Susan go?" he asked impatiently.

"Samantha.  She went to see if we could go inside and how long we could spend looking around the room."

Samantha came rushing down the hallway.  “It's okay for us to go inside and have a wander around; but we don’t have much time to do it.  The guests will be arriving shortly; but I wanted you to get a feel for what the room looks like for an event. A wedding would be set up the same way. Please feel free to go in and have a look...just please don’t touch anything.” 

“Wow, wow, wow!  This certainly is elegant!” exclaimed Benedict, clearly impressed as he ventured into the room.  “There’s plenty of bling to go around yes?” 

“It’s almost too much,” whispered Donna, gazing around at the elaborately-decorated room.   “I don’t know where to look first.” 

“The May Fair Hotel’s iconic spaces provide a superbly flexible wedding venue with backdrops from the spectacular Baccarat chandelier of the Crystal Room to the Art Deco indulgence of the Danziger Room, which we just came from.” 

“I could swear she’s reciting the brochure,” giggled Donna in a low voice. 

“It bloody well sounds like it,” agreed Benedict. 

“What was that, Donna?” asked Samantha, coming up behind Benedict. 

“I said I think we would need this room, given the size of our ever-growing guest list,” replied Donna. 

“Being your reception would begin at half noon, we would start with the drinks reception in the Atrium, which is flooded with natural light.  Think of the stunning welcome it would provide for your guests.” 

“I wish we could have seen the Atrium before it got dark out,” sighed Donna. 

“You are always welcome to come back during the day and see it for yourself,” said Samantha.  “I thought the photographs I showed you in the office did it justice though.” 

“I still like to see things for myself,” retorted Donna, walking to the center of the room.  “Where would the wedding party sit?” 

“At the Top Table,” replied Samantha.  “If this were a wedding, it would be set up along that wall, looking out over at the proceedings with the cake table set up to the left of it. This is meant to be a surprise party; so the couple's children requested that the cake be brought at when it's time for dessert.  If there was one, it would be covered with coordinating linens and decorated with flowers to match those in the table centerpieces.” 

“What’s a Top Table?  Is it like a raised dais that the bridal party sits at?”  Donna whispered to Benedict. 

“Yes, that’s exactly what it is; but sometimes they're not always raised.  The seating arrangement differs from what you’re used to.  Traditionally, the Bride and Groom sit in the middle, flanked by the Bride's parents, then the Groom's parents and finally by the Best Man and Chief Bridesmaid.” 

_Let’s see, which of my parents would Benedict be happier about sitting next to:  Mom or Dad?  I’d say it would be a toss-up.  And I could just see Wanda sitting beside Dad all night.  No, I don’t think that’s going to work.  
_

“You can eschew the Top Table altogether and sit with your bridesmaids and ushers at a round table, which allows both sets of parents to host their own tables of family and close friends,” said Samantha.  “That works well for families that have…friction between the parents.” 

“We don’t have that problem,” declared Benedict, side-eyeing Donna. 

“Who are you shitting?” Donna demanded under her breath. 

“This allows the Bride and Groom and their parents to have who they want at their respective tables without feeling obligated to sit all together.  It’s become very popular especially in the smaller event rooms.” 

“Oh!  I like the idea of sitting at a round table with the bridal party,” said Donna.  “What do you think, Benedict?” 

“I’m used to seeing and sitting at traditional Top Tables.” 

_That translates into my Traditionalist Fiancé wants to sit at one of those tables._

_Hmm…if we go the traditional Top Table route, that means I’d have to sit next to Antonia all night.  Do I want to subject myself to that on my wedding day?_ _Oh, crumpets!  That also means Mum will have to sit beside Neil all night!  That is not a good idea.  
_

“However, the more I think about it, it might be nice to have our bridesmaids and ushers on the Top Table…like they usually do in the States.” 

“We are only too happy to blend wedding customs for our Brides and Grooms,” smiled Samantha. "We've had American brides and vice-versa; so we're familiar with the different customs."

“You don’t like the idea of my dad sitting next to your mother all night,” whispered Donna with a smug expression. 

“Damn right.  It fucking terrifies me! The possibilities for warfare are endless,” whispered back Benedict.  

“The Sweetheart Table for just the Bride and Groom is also gaining in popularity as it gives the couple some time to themselves during the meal,” suggested Samantha.  “It can be raised or not, whatever the couple’s preference is.” 

“Oh, I rather fancy that idea,” remarked Benedict with enthusiasm.  “We get to spend some quality time alone.  What do you think, Darling?” 

“Wouldn’t we feel as if we were on display?” countered Donna. “You know…all eyes upon us...watching our ever move.” 

Benedict frowned at her.  “I thought the Bride and Groom are supposed to be the center of attention.” 

_Oh, he’s an actor so being watched doesn’t faze him in the slightest!  I’d like to see what he’d do if he had to appear on the stage in the nude.  Oh, wait, he’s been nearly naked in The Last Enemy and he was naked in To The Ends of the Earth.  
_

“Will you be having the ceremony performed here or at an off-site venue?” asked Samantha, making some notes on a clipboard.  “We have a lovely room for ceremonies!” 

“The ceremony will be held at Saint Mary Abbot in Kensington,” replied Benedict.  “The banns are being read now.  We have two more weeks left to fulfill the requirement.” 

Donna looked surprised.  “The Church of England certainly moves fast.” 

“The banns can be read up to twelve months prior to the wedding.  We’ll go to a service on Sunday, so you can hear them read.  It gave me chills last week when Mum, Dad and I went to hear them read the first time.” 

Benedict came to stand beside her and took her hand in his.  “It’s a very impressive venue yes?” 

“I’m sure there will be an even more impressive bill to send my father,” snorted Donna.  

“If you choose to book your wedding reception with us, Daphne will act as your dedicated planner throughout the planning stages as well as on the day itself.  She will always be available to you.  Our culture of calm, discreet advice and service ensure a true luxury wedding experience at the May Fair.” 

Benedict felt his mobile vibrate in his trousers pocket.  _I wonder who’s trying to reach me._ _I really shouldn’t take any calls – that would be very cheeky of me – but what if it were something important and Mum or Dad needed to reach me._  He removed the mobile and felt his heart begin to pound in excitement when he saw the caller ID. 

“Excuse me for a moment.  I must take this call.” 

Donna watched as Benedict left the room, leaving her alone with Samantha Collingwood. 

“I’ve been meaning to ask you: Are you the same Donna Saint James who writes the Tasty Travels Column for the Sunday London Tribune?” 

Donna nodded and smiled.  “That would be me.” 

“So the catering will be of paramount importance to you – more so than other brides we’ve hosted I would think. “ 

“The quality and preparation of the food and drink will play a major role in our decision as to where to have our reception,” said Donna.  

“Then let me assure you that we have passionate principles to make for a superbly fresh dining experience.  We can design a bespoke menu and cater to any dietary restrictions and preferences your guests may have. We use nothing but the very best purveyors of meat, seafood and fowl; and we use the best local produce.  You will see that we can offer a superbly flexible and creative range of seasonal dishes for the most discriminating palates.” 

_Holy cow!  I swear she’s reciting from the brochure again!  Samantha means that she will make it her personal mission to make sure all the food and drink meets with the approval of the food critic.  Hahaha!  
_

“I have some examples here of our dishes and canapes,” said Samantha, handing Donna a menu. “We provide a consultation with our Executive Chef and tastings for you and Benedict and four other guests.  Most brides and grooms bring along their parents to the tasting and final menu selection.” 

“Well, that might be difficult as my parents live in New York.” 

_Who am I kidding? Mom and Dad would think nothing of hopping on a plane and joining us.  That poor chef would also bitterly regret the day that Mom came to the tasting._

“We need to vacate the room now; so why don’t we go back to the office and chat some more. I’m sure Benedict can find his way there once he’s done with his call.” 

Donna and Samantha walked along the corridor leading back to Daphne’s office in silence.  Once they were settled in the office, Donna noticed that Samantha was once again staring at her ring with an appraising eye. 

“I must say that’s an absolutely lovely ring.  I’ve never seen anything like it.” 

“Thank you.  Benedict gets all the credit as he designed the setting himself,” replied Donna, beaming with pride.  

“Hmmm…he certainly took a chance by not letting you pick it out yourself.” 

“Benedict knows my taste,” retorted Donna.  “I adore my ring!” 

“Is it real?” 

Donna felt insulted by the question.  “Excuse me.  Did you just ask me if my ring is real?  Of course it’s real!  Why would you think this wasn’t a real diamond?” 

“Well, Benedict is an actor…” 

Donna felt herself bristle at the comment.  “He’s a _working_ actor.” 

_Good gravy!  Now, I sound as defensive as Wanda!_

“He’d have to command the salary of a Jeremy Irons to afford that ring.” 

“It’s real, I assure you!”

“Are you planning on taking his name once you marry?” 

“Of course!  Why wouldn’t I?  You took your husband’s name?” 

“Well, let’s face it; Collingwood is a hell of a lot easier to live with than Cumberpatch.” 

“It’s Cumber _batch_ ,” snapped Donna.  

“That’s what I mean!  You want to go through life with that awful last moniker?  Just think of your poor future children having to live with that name all their lives.  Why his own parents use stage names!” 

“My in-laws are known as Timothy and Wanda Cumberbatch in their private life.  The only time they’re known as Timothy Carlton and Wanda Ventham is when they’re working.” 

“Hmmm…I wonder why that might be?” mused Samantha as a smile tugged at her perfectly painted red lips.  “Could it be because the name Cumberbatch is too cumbersome?” 

“My mother-in-law is proud to be a Cumberbatch.  I’m looking forward to the day when I take Benedict’s name.” 

“I hope you’re going to hyphenate it:  Donna Saint James-Cumberbatch sounds much better than Donna Cumberbatch.” 

“I think Donna Cumberbatch sounds perfectly fine,” Donna said defensively. 

“Good luck to you then!” snorted Samantha.  “I really would consider keeping Saint James or hyphenating it if you must, if I were you.  Cumberbatch sounds like a poorly conceived stage name.” 

“I’ll keep that under advisement,” said Donna coolly. 

“There’s something else I’m dying to ask you,” began Samantha. 

“Go ahead and ask.” 

“How _did_ you meet Benedict?” 

Donna felt a feeling of panic overtake her.  _Oh, my God! We may be headed into dangerous territory here. I need to shut her up before Benedict shows up and hears this discussion!_

“Benedict and I met at a restaurant,” replied Donna evenly.  "We wound up being seated at the same communal table."

“I see.” 

“I guess you hear a lot more interesting stories as a wedding planner.” 

“Oh, I have during the time I was doing it.  I just assumed that you were the winner,” laughed Samantha. 

“Winner?  You’re damn right. As far as I’m concerned, I am a winner,” gushed Donna.  “Benedict is a wonderful man, and I am so lucky to have him in my life.” 

“No.  What I meant was I automatically concluded that you were one of the women who answered Wanda’s personal ad for a wife for him and were the hand-picked, prospective daughter-in-law.” 

_Okay, Donna.  You can go two ways here:  you can pretend you know nothing which would involve a lengthy explanation on her part or you can admit that you knew and just end it as quickly as possible.  You may have answered the ad; but you met Benedict on your own.  I must always remember that!_

“As I just said, Benedict and I met at a restaurant.  It had nothing to do with Wanda’s ad.” 

“So you knew about the ad yes?” 

Donna looked around for any signs of Benedict and nodded.  “Yes.”  _Now, shut up and don’t say anything else._

“I can’t believe Benedict let her do that for him, he’s quite special to be so open-minded.  Most men would have disowned their mother’s for even suggesting doing something like that let alone giving them permission to actually screen candidates for a life partner for them.” 

_Oh, you’ve got that wrong!  Benedict never would have given his blessing to Wanda to do such a wacky thing. Hmmm…it sounds as if Wanda led Samantha to believe that Benedict knew what she was doing all along.  She came out and told me once she decided that I was the girl for Benedict. Oh, God, Benedict would definitely disown Wanda if he got wind of it…and call off the wedding._

Donna smiled thinly.  “His mother is quite special in her own right.  We get along very well.” 

“That’s nice to hear.  I personally would have moved as far away from the old crone as possible.  I found Wanda to be quite pushy and far too overprotective of her son.  She was constantly on the defensive.” 

“You’re entitled to your opinion, Samantha; just as I’m entitled to mine.  I find Wanda to be none of that.”  _I’m lying again.  I’m well aware of what Wanda’s faults are; we just haven’t really had a chance to butt heads yet.  
_

“I remember how stropy she got when I said Benedict had a long face; reminiscent of a horse…” 

_A long face?  Yes. A horse? No!  He doesn’t look anything like a horse!_

“…and don’t you find those light blue, wide-set eyes of his rather unnerving?” 

“No, I find them dreamy,” retorted Donna.  “I love how they seem to change color and go from blue to green at times.” 

“I could swear he wears makeup. Tell me the truth, and I promise it'll go no further than here - does he?” 

“He does when he’s acting.  All actors wear makeup on stage or in front of a camera.” 

“I was referring to those weird-looking lips of his.  Tell me the truth…did he have fillers and the outline tattooed on?  No one has full pouty lips like that.” 

“Well, Benedict does! Those are his natural lips, and I find them to be very sexy and kissable.” 

“I see.” 

“No.  I don’t think you do.  Before you open that big mouth of yours to say anything else hurtful about my fiancé’s looks, name or profession; I’d better warn you that I find Benedict very handsome and am very proud of what he does for a living.” 

Samantha smiled indulgently at her as she made some notes on a pad.  “To each their own, as you said before.  He’s just not my cup of tea, I suppose.  I just find him quite homely. Speaking of tea, shall I have some brought in whilst we discuss booking your wedding?” 

Donna leaped to her feet, knocking over the chair in her haste.  She stormed to the door leading to the hallway.  “I think I’ve seen and heard all I need to in order to make an informed decision. Unfortunately, we won’t be booking our wedding reception here, Mrs. Collingwood because it turns out the May Fair isn’t _my_ cup of tea,”  she snarled. 

And with that Donna Saint James turned on her heel, pulled out her cellphone and marched into the hallway as her handbag caught on an expensive sculpture that was situated on a glass table by the door.  As she banged the door shut behind her, Donna was aware of a loud crash as she stalked off down the hall in search of Benedict. 

 

 

Fifteen minutes later, Benedict and Donna sat in a cab, which was en route to Jamie Oliver’s Restaurant, Comfort, near Covent Garden to meet the Cumberbatch clan for dinner. 

“So how do you feel about having our wedding breakfast at the May Fair?” Benedict asked Donna. 

“I’m not feeling it.  I thought Samantha Alden-Thomas-Collingwood or whatever the fuck her name is was smug, condescending and downright insulting!” 

“I didn’t find her to be anything other than gracious and eager to book our wedding breakfast; but then you spent more time alone with her than I did. What did she say to you that turned you off so?” 

“I found her to have an abrasive personality, but I put her in her place.” 

“I bet you did,” snorted Benedict. 

_I hope I don't wind up with a bill for that statue I knocked over.  Wanda and Tim will probably get a kick out of that part._

“Grandpa Colin would have called her a posh toff.” 

Benedict looked surprised and a little sad.  “I bet he calls me that, too.” 

“No!  Grandpa has said that you come from a posh background; but he’s never called you a toff.” 

 _He refers to your Dad as a toff, but you don’t need to know that._

“Well, that’s a comfort to me.  I was all set to disown the old boy,” teased Benedict.  “You know, Sandy wouldn’t be our wedding planner.” 

“You mean Samantha.” 

“Yeah.  Whatever.   It would be the other woman you spoke with…Dolly.” 

“Daphne.” 

“There’s more besides the fact that the substitute wedding planner rubbed you the wrong way yes?” 

“I didn’t like the rooms to be honest.  The way they were decorated, just seemed over-the-top. They screamed catering hall to me.” 

“Well, that’s what they are in effect, Darling. From what I gathered, we would be choosing our own decorations.” 

“I know you were impressed with the May Fair, Benedict; but I’m not thrilled with it.  I don’t like the guests having to go from the atrium to the crystal extravaganza room and then to another room for dancing.” 

“Depending on how many guests, they could have enough room for a band and dancing.  However, I’m not keen on that.  I like the idea of having a relaxing dinner, followed by the night do.  It gets the digestion going and there’s no getting up and down in between the courses.” 

“You know, I never thought of it that way.  You made an excellent point.  I just don’t like the May Fair’s rooms.” 

“Well, actually I’m glad to hear you say that as I didn’t really fancy it or her either.” 

“Then we’re agreed to cross the May Fair off our list of reception venues.” 

“I’ve already mentally crossed it off,” he snorted. 

“Isn’t there any other place we can look at besides the large hotels?” 

“As a matter of fact there is,” said Benedict with a huge smile. “Remember that call I had to take?” 

“Yeah.” 

“It was the Events Planner from Kenwood House.  Being the renovations are ahead of schedule, they just received permission to start booking private parties for next year, starting in June.  The woman I spoke with remembered how terribly disappointed I was when I found out about the renovations; so I was the first one she called. The majority of the remaining work is on the outside; but the inside is mostly finished. We are welcome to go around tomorrow morning and have a look at the newly renovated rooms.” 

Donna Saint James smiled widely. “Oh, Ben, that is the best news ever!  I can’t wait to go look at it tomorrow!  I’m so excited!”  She exclaimed as she threw her arms around Benedict Cumberbatches neck and covered his face with kisses.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I've been blending British and American wedding customs as I think that's what the real life Benedict would want to do if he had an American fiancee. 
> 
> 2\. My apologies if some of the British wedding customs aren't current or correct; I've done some research on the differences between the two cultures and find that things are forever evolving; so I'm blending what I like about both for my darlings. Actually, this probably also applies to American customs as well - it's been a long time since I got married; and I realize that the various regions throughout our country have their own traditions. I'm basing mine on a New York City style wedding and my own experiences.
> 
> 3\. I loved creating and writing the character of bitchy May Fair General Manager, Samantha Alden-Thomas. My inspiration for her is actress Kim Cattrall from Sex and the City.
> 
> 4\. Samantha's spiel about a May Fair Hotel wedding was partially taken from their website. It was intended for her to sound like she was quoting from a brochure.


	158. Chapter 158

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Early Friday morning, Benedict and Donna go to Kenwood House, prompting a visit to Jamie Oliver afterwards. 
> 
> Note: I’ll be using *************** for things happening at the same time.

 

 

Benedict Cumberbatch and Donna Saint James knew as soon as they entered the cozy drawing room with dual fireplaces in Kenwood House, that they had found their wedding reception venue.  

“This is known as the South Drawing Room,” said Mrs. Hanson, the Chief Events Planner.  “As you can see, this room is wonderfully light and well-proportioned.  It will easily accommodate up to one hundred and twenty guests for dinner without anyone feeling cramped.  Some of the finer features of this graceful room are the dual open fireplaces, which can be filled with candles or used as intended.  The room’s windows overlook the garden, which will have a variety of evergreens to act as stand-ins for the flowers this time of year. Note the imposing portrait of the Lady in Blue and the new wallpaper, which has been faithfully reproduced to match the original.  The carpeting is new as well as the damask draperies.  The hand carvings and gold leaf on the ceilings and trim have been completely restored.  Of course all the furnishings haven’t been put back yet; but this will give you an idea as to the size of the room.  Once the furniture is put back, it will be removed for your wedding and replaced with our standard round banquet tables and chairs. This room is the ultimate in eighteenth century elegance and has an intimacy that is unsurpassed.  I’m sure it will satisfy your needs quite nicely.”

“Wow! Talk about saving the best for last!” exclaimed Donna as she stood in the center of the room.

“They did an extraordinary job with the restoration,” marveled Benedict as he walked about the perimeter of the room.  “I think the dual fireplaces are brilliant.”

“I was thinking it might get too hot with two roaring fires going,” remarked Donna.  “We don’t want to roast our guests.”

“I bet it would look lovely with candles filling the inside of each fireplace as well as on top of the mantel,” suggested Benedict.

“I have photographs I can show you back in my office,” offered Mrs. Hanson.  “We can line the mantel with a garland of flowers to match your table centerpieces, interspersed with the candles.”

“Yes!  I love that idea,” agreed Donna.

“Is there room for a dais in here?” Benedict asked with a frown.

“It would be a tight fit to accommodate a traditional dais,” replied Mrs. Hanson.  “However, we can do a small rectangular table in front of the windows, next to the cake table.  It would only fit four people, I’m afraid.  Have you considered sitting at a round table with your bridal party or immediate families?  We can decorate the bride and groom chairs with a floral garland using the same flowers as those in the centerpieces and on the mantel to differentiate them from the others...or if you prefer, we can hang decorative signs on the backs of the chairs saying “Mr.” and “Mrs.”  Those are also quite popular with couples.”

Benedict looked at Donna.  “The dais won’t work in here for a traditional US or UK set up.  I’ll let you decide if you want to sit at a regular table or have one of those sweetheart tables just for us.”

“The sweetheart tables are growing in popularity,” said Mrs. Hanson. “Do you two know what sort of colour scheme you fancy?”

“Being we’re having a winter wedding, so we were thinking of going with an all-white color scheme with silver accents,” replied Donna. “Especially since the bridal party is going to be wearing silver and charcoal grey.”

“We’ve done all white receptions, and I can assure you that the effect is smashing,” said Mrs. Hanson warming to the topic.  “We use crisp white linen tablecloths draped over a pale silver cloth.  The serviettes are white and can be folded in a variety of creative ways and accented with flowers to match the others used in decorating the room. Kenwood House has beautiful bone china with platinum trim to complement their silver service.  Then we add in lead-cut crystal stemware and lots of candles on the tabletops for even more sparkle.”

“What do you think of using just white roses for the centerpieces and mantel decorations, Honey?” Donna asked Benedict.

“I think white roses would be lovely; however, I detest those centerpieces that cover half the bloody table or block your view of your table mates.”

“I totally agree with you, Benedict,” laughed Mrs. Hanson.  “We can easily solve that problem by using our tall, slender silver centerpieces.  The top can hold a ball of white roses and have tall, white tapered candles inserted.  I’ve seen it done before, and it’s just breathtaking – and you can see your table mates with no problem. To complete the look, we scatter star-shaped crystal votive candles on the table top for maximum glow.”

“That would look smashing,” said Benedict, smiling at Donna and taking both her hands in his.  “What do you think?”

“I love all these ideas!” replied Donna.  “I’m so excited – this room is perfect.”

“We’ll have to cut the size of our guest list down, you realize.”

“That’s perfectly alright with me, Ben. Smaller is better.  It was starting to get out of hand – especially on my side.” 

 _Wait until Mom hears that she’s going to have to back off,_ thought Donna _.  That should make for an entertaining conversation.  Ugh!_

“Have you given any thought to where you’d like to hold your drinks reception prior to the dinner?” inquired Mrs. Hanson.  “I do realize that I’ve taken you through so many rooms this morning that it may prove difficult to keep them all straight.”

“We fell in love with the library,” replied Benedict without hesitation.

“Benedict has been telling me how magnificent it was, and he wasn’t kidding,” added Donna.  “It would make for such a unique cocktail hour.”

“And if anyone gets bored, they can always sit down and read one of the books,” quipped Benedict.

Mrs. Hanson nodded as she listened to Benedict and Donna. “It’s true that the library has always been a popular choice for ceremonies, drinks receptions and wedding breakfasts; but have you considered that it’s at the opposite end of the house?”

Donna and Benedict exchanged worried glances.

“I guess they’ll work up an appetite walking around the place,” joked Benedict.

“I never even considered that,” said Donna hesitantly.  “We’re going to have several older guests, who may not be up to walking that far; in addition to one who uses a wheelchair.”

“This is what we’ve been trying to avoid,” Benedict explained to Mrs. Hanson.  “Are there any adjacent rooms that we could use for the drinks reception?”

Mrs. Hanson smiled.  “I have just the thing.  Right through here is the solution.” 

Benedict and Donna followed Mrs. Hanson through a set of ornately carved double doors that led into what appeared to be another empty drawing room. This one was richly paneled and contained a marble fireplace and appeared to have also been fully restored. 

“This is the French Salon,” announced Mrs. Hanson.  “The owners of Kenwood House often used this room in conjunction with the Drawing Room to form a larger space for entertaining.  It has been tastefully renovated with fine fabrics in luxuriant blues to replicate what was once there. As you can see, this room boasts original Art Deco features such as the ironwork tassels by Basil Ionides and winged Renaissance-style cherubs above the doors.  The focal point is this striking mural of a dancing couple, which was only recently discovered when the room was being refurbished. By using the French Salon for your drinks reception, your guests can flow effortlessly into the Drawing Room for dinner service.”

“This is utterly spectacular!” said Benedict, walking about the room with great excitement.  “Look at this mural, Donna – it’s a veritable treasure! What a treat for the eyes!”

 _If there is one thing I can say about Benedict, is that his enthusiasm is highly infectious,_ thought Donna as she gave him a warm smile. 

“It is stunning,” she agreed, coming to stand beside him in front of the mural.  “How will the room be set up for cocktails, Mrs. Hanson?” 

“We’ll use the same arrangement of white roses on the mantel as in the Drawing room and can offer a fire or candles in the fireplace.  There will be a bar set up underneath the mural and high top tables scattered about as well as small settees and comfortable chairs.”

“What about music?” asked Benedict.

“We can arrange to have a string quartet, pianist or a harpist to provide background music.”

Benedict and Donna both said:  “Harpist!” at the same time. 

“Not a problem,” confirmed Mrs. Hanson. 

“What about the night do?” asked Benedict.  “Does this lead into yet another room?”

“Where have I heard you say that before?” Donna asked Benedict with a raised eyebrow.

“You’re thinking of the _Cabin Pressure_ episode called Cremona; but it was Roger’s line,” he replied in a low voice.

Mrs. Hanson laughed.  “No, I’m afraid it doesn’t, Benedict.  My suggestion would be to hold your night do in our Orangery, which is just across the hallway.  The Orangery overlooks the back lawn and pond; and you can see the London Skyline in the distance.”

Donna and Benedict followed Mrs. Hanson the short distance to the Orangery, which was also empty and appeared to be in the final stages of refurbishment. 

“You can have live music or a DJ can be set up at the far end and the remainder can be used as a dance floor.  If you require more room, we can attach a marquee to the terrace and double your space.  We can have a sweets and cordials table out there with seating as well for those who don’t care to dance.”

“What about heating?” asked Donna.

“We’ll provide radiant heaters for the marquee should you choose to use one. I promise that your guests will be toasty warm.  There will be no perceptible difference in temperature between the Orangery and the marquee.”

Benedict had opened one of the French doors and stepped outside onto the terrace.  He turned and beckoned Donna to join him.  “Donna!  Come look at the view!  Isn’t it fantastic?”

Donna quickly joined him at the edge of the terrace.  “That it is!  I bet it’s extra beautiful at night. Can you imagine how pretty the sky would look with fireworks going off in the distance?”

 _There she goes again with her love of fireworks, bless her,_ though Benedict with amusement as he nodded his agreement.  _Next she'll launch into her description of the Disney Fireworks Dessert Party for Mrs. Hudson's benefit._

“Oh, it is,” confirmed Mrs. Hanson.  “Every summer Kenwood House hosts a series of English Heritage concerts.  Guests are welcome to bring along a picnic supper and after the concert, there is a lovely fireworks display. If you were getting married on New Year’s Eve, you’d be able to see the fireworks displays that they set off in London from here.”

“Our schedules only allowed for the date we chose,” said Donna, her voice tinged with sadness.  "My brother and sister were married in Walt Disney World in Orlando; and they had the most magnificent fireworks dessert party after the reception..."

 _My God!  Perhaps I can bring my idea to life here!_ Thought Benedict with mounting excitement as he wandered the length of the terrace.  _I wonder if Kenwood House would allow me to have a fireworks display at the end of the night do? If they can do it at the conclusion of their open air concerts in the summer, why not in the winter? I  know deep down inside there’s still a part of Donna that secretly nurtures that Disney dream wedding, so maybe with some luck, I really can arrange to give her a Disney-like experience – just on a smaller scale. I’ll ring Mrs. Hanson back first thing tomorrow to share my ideas with her and see if it's at all feasible._

Benedict quickly rejoined them to find that Donna had just finished describing the dessert party to Mrs. Hanson, who appeared to be enraptured by her verbal depiction.

“That does sound lovely, Donna. We do have lighting scattered about to enhance the landscaping – red, green and white this time of year.  We’ve some beautiful evergreens and plenty of holly bushes and trees that we wind fairy lights around.  The entrance hall and most of the rooms will be decorated for Christmas.  We have several trees and can certainly do up white and silver trees for your reception rooms.  We can do dual trees in the South Drawing room to compliment the dual fireplaces. Why don’t we go back inside where it’s warm and we can chat some more about you did and didn’t fancy?”

Benedict stopped Donna from following the wedding planner back into the Orangery and put his arm around her shoulders.

“This arrangement of using the South Drawing Room, the French Salon and the Orangery sounds absolutely perfect to me,” Benedict whispered to Donna excitedly.  “What do you think?”

“I love it, Benedict!  It’s everything we want!  I vote for cancelling the other two places we were going to look at, and tell Mrs. Hanson that we’ve decided to have our wedding here.”

“I wholeheartedly agree. I don’t see the need to delay booking any further.  We’ll go back inside and tell her we’d like to book our wedding breakfast here!”

“Yes!  We can put down a deposit today in order to secure our date and the rooms we want.  My dad gave me his credit card information to use for everything we book.  Then when we have some free time in between Christmas and New Year’s, we can come in and discuss the details.”

Benedict smiled as he pulled Donna into an embrace and hugged her tightly.  “I am so over the moon right now!  Everything is coming together!”

“I love how everything is falling into place so quickly!  This has been much easier than I thought it was going to be.”

“The fact that there’s been a minimum of parental interference and stress, helps,” said Benedict with a cheeky smile. 

“To be fair, my dad and your parents have been just wonderful about leaving the arrangements to us.  It’s my mom who’s proving to be the pain in the butt. It’s killing her that she’s not in on any of this until after the fact.”

“That’s the beauty of dealing with her via Skype and email.  You can choose to ignore whatever you fancy.”

“True.  You have no idea just how lousy my Skype connection’s been lately,” giggled Donna.  “Luckily, Dad says she’ll be tied up with a big case once the New Year starts, so that’ll be good.  You know, I have to say that your mom has surprised me.  I thought for sure she’d want to be in on everything, too. However, the only time Wanda offers any opinions or comments is when we ask for them.”

Benedict barked out a harsh laugh.  “And what a lovely respite it is from the usual bullshit that goes on!  I haven’t a clue what’s come over my mother, but she’s acting so out of character, I’ve been wondering if Dad’s drugged her or something.”

“I sincerely doubt that,” laughed Donna.  “I don’t know your mom as well as you do, but from I do know, nothing stops Wanda Ventham from finding out what she wants to know.”

Benedict sighed deeply.  “Those are such true words; but whatever it is that’s causing this silence, I hope to hell it lasts until after we return from honeymoon. I can’t tell you what a treat it’s been for my ears and digestive system.  I thought for certain that my ulcer would return as a result of this wedding planning; but I remain hale and hearty.”

“And you’d better stay that way!  Oh, crap! There’s one very important thing we forgot to ask,” said Donna, as they walked back inside the Orangery, arm-in-arm.  

Benedict looked perplexed. “What?”

“We never once asked about the food or beverage service!” giggled Donna.  “Food and drink are just as important as the venue.” 

“We’re both such dolts.  I was so caught up in the excitement of finally finding the perfect venue; that I completely forgot to inquire about the catering.  You’re right.  The actual wedding breakfast is of paramount importance.”

“That’s okay. I was obsessed with the view and fireworks.  I kept imagining what a great fireworks dessert party we could have here.”

_Bloody hell!  I don’t need Donna suggesting this to the wedding planner!  I want this to be my surprise to her!_

“Now that would be a bit over-the-top, don’t you think?” scoffed Benedict.  “In reality, who in the hell has fireworks at their wedding?”

“Anyone who gets married at Disney…”

_I’m such a tit! I should have known that would be the first thing to come out of her mouth._

“…royalty, some celebrities and very rich people.”

 _No, Benedict.  I don’t think its over-the-top at all.  I’d love to have something like that,_ thought Donna _._

“And we don’t fall into any of those categories when last I checked. Your father has been kind enough to give us a veritable blank cheque, Darling.  This would be considered taking advantage just because we can.  Let’s not gild the lily, shall we?”

_I guess Benedict’s right.  The fireworks were already included with park admission at Disney.  Daddy just paid for the dessert party.  
_

_I’ll make sure to make it happen if at all possible.  If there is one thing my future in-laws love is their fireworks, bless them.  It would be a nice treat for all our guests, as well as a surprise for Donna.  What a spectacular way to cap off the day!_

Benedict addressed the wedding planner as soon as they were back inside the Orangery.  “Mrs. Hanson, we neglected to inquire about catering arrangements.  Will we be able to bring in our own caterer or do we have to use the one in house?”

“You’re perfectly welcome to use whichever caterer you fancy, Benedict.  The outside caterers are given full run of our on site kitchen or they can bring in the food from their own kitchens and just heat it up in ours.  I know a lot of couples are on a strict budget, so I can recommend some decent outside caterers who won’t cost a fortune - Unless you already have someone in mind?”

“As a matter of fact, we do:  Jamie Oliver,” replied Donna. 

“Jamie Oliver!  Jolly good for you! I watch him on the telly all the time, and have eaten in some of his restaurants.”

“He’s recently branched out into events catering,” said Benedict.

“I’m sure his team of chefs will do a splendid job for you.  Better than our in-house caterer,” Mrs. Hanson chuckled.  “They’re pricey and the food is hit or miss to be honest.”

“Jamie Oliver himself would be coming here to supervise and do some of the actual cooking,” clarified Donna.

Mrs. Hanson looked doubtful.  “In my experience those celebrity chefs never come themselves to do the cooking, Love.  They always send their catering team as they’re far too busy with all their various ventures. Jamie Oliver has so much going on, I don’t see how you could expect him to come himself.”

“Oh, he’ll be here. There are absolutely no worries on that front,” boasted Benedict. “Jamie will come because he’s a mate of mine.”

 _Maybe not for long though once he finds out my second review of Comfort  was no better than the first,_ thought Donna grimly.  

 

 

An hour later, Donna and Benedict stood outside the front entrance of Kenwood House and took a last look before heading back towards the parking lot. 

“That was very nice of Mrs. Hanson to come in extra early so we could have a look around before you had to go to work,” remarked Donna.

“Wasn’t it though?  It was definitely worth her while as she got a booking out of it,” laughed Benedict.  “It’s going to be a magnificent reception venue, Donna.”

“I like that she’s willing to work with us, given our hectic schedules.”

“We’ve got plenty of time to sort out the details, Sweetheart.  The important thing was agreeing on a venue and booking our date.”

“Now, we need to lock down our caterer,” declared Donna.  “I think I need to go pay Jamie a visit prior to the publication of Sunday’s column.  I want to sit down with him and explain the reasons for my bad review in person.”

“Then we’ll ask him to cater our wedding.  That’s sure to soften the blow,” snorted Benedict.  “He’ll probably tell us to go piss off and show us the bloody door.”

Donna looked horrified. “Do you really think so?”

“No.  I was just teasing you.  Chefs are a lot like actors.  We’re used to not getting rave reviews all the time.  I’ve read reviews on his food from other restaurant critics.  Not all are stellar.  When you get an unfavourable review, you use it as an opportunity to learn from it.”

“I’m going to call and see if I can meet up with Jamie at Barbecoa, before dinner service.  Hopefully, he’ll be cooking there tonight; so I’ll only have a short walk to the Tate Modern to meet you and my parents afterwards.”

“If I finish with _South Pacific_ early, I’ll try and meet you at Barbecoa.  I’d like to be there so we can ask him to cook for our wedding breakfast together.”

“I’d love that, Benedict; but I want you to promise me that’ll you’ll not add your two cents to the review when I’m discussing it with him.  Okay?”

Benedict nodded reluctantly.  “I had some worthwhile comments, didn’t you think?”

“All of which I addressed and incorporated into my review…except for the macaroni and cheese comments.  My opinion stands alone on that dish.”

“I promise.  I won’t say a word.”  _Unless I really feel it’s necessary._

 

 

Late that afternoon, Donna Saint James sat at the high top table in the bar area of Barbecoa, waiting for Jamie Oliver to come out to talk with her.  She congratulated herself on finally being able to get her foot in the door.  Donna had phoned the celebrity chef’s office after parting company with Benedict in order to get an appointment.  Unfortunately, it started out to be an impossible task to get through to him. However, Donna soon changed her strategy and mentioned to Jamie’s new assistant that she had completed her second review of his restaurant, Comfort, and wanted to discuss the review before it ran in the London Tribune on Sunday.  Not even a full minute had elapsed before Jamie Oliver himself came to the phone and arranged to meet with her at Barbecoa prior to the start of the evening’s service. 

Donna looked over towards the far corner of the restaurant that overlooked Saint Paul's and the east side of the building.  All the chefs de partie, bartenders and wait staff were seated at the low red leather booths with various plates of food and drinks in the center of the tables.  Jamie Oliver and his Executive Chef were standing in the center conducting the evening's tastings, which consisted of explaining the components of each dish and how to describe them to the customers.  Jamie had stopped in mid-description of the starter of oak-smoked duck with quince jam roasted chestnuts on a bed of bitter leaves for twelve pounds as Donna caught his eye as she passed by.  He gave her a half-smile and nodded at her briefly before continuing with his description of the food.

_I wonder if Jamie feels as nervous as I do.  He certainly looked uneasy when I walked past them just now.  I bet he senses that this is not going to be a five-star review. All eyes were on me; so I bet I was the topic of conversation well before I arrived.  I don’t know why I feel so anxious.  It’s not like it’s the first time I’ve ever had to tell a chef I was giving his restaurant a poor review.  
_

Donna studied the cocktail menu that one of the hostesses had left on the table for her perusal.

_Hmm…she said I should order a drink to help pass the time while I wait for my audience with Jamie while he finishes up with the tastings.  
_

One of the servers had left the group and approached Donna with a huge smile.  Donna immediately recognized her as the overly-perky girl with the pony tail who had served her and Benedict the night they had met.

"Hi, I'm Kelly!  Welcome to Barbecoa!  This is our cocktail menu and wine list. Jamie said to relax and have a drink on the house; and he'll be over to join you as soon as he can. What can I get you?"

_I see Kelly still favors insanely tight tops so you can’t miss her bouncing boobs.  Benedict will be sooooo disappointed if he can’t make it in time to look her over.  
_

Donna’s cellphone began to ring.  It was Benedict.  “Excuse me for a minute, Kelly.”

“Sure.”

“Hi there, Handsome!”

_“I’ve got great news.  I got the narration in one take.”_

“That is great news. Jamie’s in the midst of conducting a tasting of the night’s featured dishes, so I’ve been asked to wait.  How long do you think it will take you to get here?”

_“I just exited Saint Paul’s tube station and will be there in less than five minutes.”_

“I was just about to order myself a drink when you called. What shall I get for you?”

_“Surprise me.  I shan’t be long. Cheers.”  
_

As Donna waited for Benedict, her mind drifted to the night they had met.  The server soon returned with the two drinks and two wooden boards containing hot pork scratchings to snack on. 

_I’m such a jerk.  I know why I’m so nervous.  Here I’m about to give the man another lousy review of his newest restaurant and then ask him to cater my wedding afterwards.  He’ll probably tell me to go fuck off.  
_

Suddenly, Donna caught Benedict’s reflection in the window glass as he surreptitiously approached the table from behind; and she felt all happy and giddy inside.

_Gosh, I hope I never stop feeling this way whenever I see my honey._

 

****************************************************

 

Benedict Cumberbatch never failed to be overwhelmed by warm, fuzzy feelings whenever he walked into Jamie Oliver’s restaurant, Barbecoa.  The restaurant was filled with happy and humourous memories of the night he had met Donna Saint James at the communal high-top table, facing Saint Paul’s Cathedral.

He stopped at the hostess podium to explain why he was there prior to dinner service and walked through the empty restaurant towards the bar in the back.  The aroma of roasting meats hit his nose as he passed the large windows looking into the empty show kitchen, making his mouth water. Jamie Oliver was standing in the center of a cluster of red leather booths, conducting the tasting as Donna had described. They appeared to be in the process of tasting some new desserts.  Jamie looked up and smiled at Benedict, who nodded back at him.  As Benedict rounded the last corner, the bar area came into view and there sat Donna at what they now referred to as ‘their table.’ Donna was facing towards Saint Paul’s with a sheet of paper set out on the table in front of her.  He immediately felt the familiar butterflies in his stomach and a smile form on his face at the sight of her.

_Christ, I hope I never stop feeling this way whenever I see her._

Benedict quietly approached the table and said to Donna in a deep, low voice, “Pardon me, but is this seat taken?”

“Yep,” said Donna with a big smile.  “I was saving it for you.” 

“I was hoping you’d say that,” purred Benedict, leaning over to kiss Donna lightly as he hopped up onto the stool beside her.  He crinkled his nose at her and gave her a lop-sided, dimpled smile.  “You didn’t know for sure it was me though.”

“Of course I did.  I saw your reflection in the window glass.”

Benedict rolled his eyes and sighed as he saw both of them reflected in the window across from the table.   “I’m such a clot.”

“Ah, but you’re my clot,” giggled Donna.  

“What are we having?” Benedict asked, indicating the two glasses on the tabletop. 

“A Bourbon Iced Tea for you and a Peach Tean-ni for me.  On these boards are warm and crispy pork scratchings with rosemary salt and habanero ketchup for us to snack on while we wait for Jamie to join us.”

Donna picked up her martini glass and raised it to Benedict.  “Cheers.”

Benedict touched her glass with his.  “Cheers.”

They sipped their drinks as they looked across at Saint Paul’s. 

“Mmmm…what’s in mine?”

“Tea infused Bourbon, Crème De Pechê, various fruit juices and ginger ale.”

“Tis quite potent,” quipped Benedict.  “Did you figure I’d need something strong to fortify myself for dinner with your parents or did you want to surprise me with something different?”

Donna laughed.  “A little of both, I think.  Notice they gave us each our own board of porky goodness.”

“That’s because our reputation for not being good at sharing precedes us,” snickered Benedict.  “I’m sure they still gossip about that night in the kitchen whenever we come in.”

“Hmmm…you might have a point there. I noticed she brought out two carafes of water.”

“Of which you've already drunk half of."

"I love how you notice everything."

"That's what actors do. We study everything."

"I wonder if they remember the flying...what did you call them that night?"

"The Flying Carpet Lamb Kebobs," chuckled Benedict.

"How embarrassing that was!"

"For you maybe. I wasn't the one who launched them off the skewer with such...unbridled enthusiasm."

Donna snorted.  "I love your gentle description.  I was crazed with hunger and thirst that night."

"I was crazed with desire for you."

"Somehow I seriously doubt that."

"I was by the end of the night."

"I bet the staff must say awful stuff about us."

"l'd wager you're right. They must say:  there goes that poor sod with the greedy girlfriend.  Let’s give them each their own starter so they won’t quibble and the food won’t wind up on the floor.”

“Hey!  I’m not greedy!  I share everything with you and vice versa.”

“Now we do.”

“How’s you bourbon-spiked tea?”

“Very tasty.  How come you didn’t order one?”

“Because I’m not all that fond of Bourbon, unless it’s in pecan pie.”

“That’s my girl – always a tart for sweets. Do you realize you always order that bloody drink whenever we come here?” mused Benedict.

“That’s because this drink reminds me of one of the happiest days of my life – the day I met you, Ben Honey.”

“We should tell Jamie that he’s not allowed to ever take it off the menu then.”

“What a crazy night that was!  All the misunderstandings and mishaps we had!”

“We sure as shit started off on the wrong foot,” Benedict agreed with a harsh laugh.  “I thought you were such a cheeky cow.”

“And I thought you were a nosy annoying dick.”

“Just look at us now,” snorted Benedict, taking her left hand in his so they could view her engagement ring together.  “Here we are making preparations to be officially bonded together for life.”

“I couldn’t think of a better person to be bonded for life to,” said Donna, leaning in to kiss the tip of his retroussé nose.

“Neither can I,” agreed Benedict, kissing her deeply.  “Mmmm…think of what we would have been missing had we gone our separate ways.”

 _Good gravy!  This man’s kisses make me dizzy,_ thought Donna as she returned his kiss with fervor. _I feel like I’m going to fall off this…wait…I am starting to list to the left._

“Whoa!  Donna!  You’re about to tip over!” exclaimed Benedict, reaching out to steady her stool.  “Are you alright?”

Donna nodded.  “I’m fine!  Here I am falling for you all over again,” she joked.

Benedict smiled at her.  “And here I was at the ready to catch you once again.”

“Let me see what socks you’re wearing today.”

Benedict pulled up his jeans leg so she could see his socks.  “So sorry to disappoint you, but I’m not wearing owl socks today.  We are having dinner with your parents after all.”  _And I’m so not looking forward to it!_  

“Good gravy!  Those sure are colorful, Ben Honey.”   _Mom and Dad should enjoy poking fun at his socks, should they become visible to them.  Thank God, Ben’s jeans are long enough to cover them when he walks._

“So can I read your review?” Benedict asked, reaching for the paper.

“Not until Jamie does,” replied Donna, pulling the sheet of paper out of his hand. “I feel he should be the first being it’s not a favorable one.”

Benedict crinkled his nose and smiled at her.  “Oh, but the snarky reviews are always your best ones!  C’mon, Love.  I was there, so I pretty much have an idea as to what the highlights are going to be.”

Donna gave him a cheeky smile. “Then you don’t have to read it because you already know.”

“Hello you two love birds,” said Jamie Oliver from behind.  

Benedict got off the stool and the two men hugged.  Jamie then gave Donna a peck on both cheeks.  “You’re looking lovely as always, Donna.”

“Thank you, Jamie.  I hope you’re still talking to me once we’re done here.”

Jamie dragged over a stool for him to sit on, while Kelly set a white beaker of builder’s tea in front of him that was labeled "CHEF".  “To be honest, I’m not expecting this to be a pleasant conversation based on past experience,” he smirked, taking a sip of tea.  “Restaurant Critics never attempt to make contact with chefs, period.”

“How do you know it’s a bad review? You haven’t read it yet,” retorted Donna.

“Jamie stared at her over the rim of his beaker. "You, Love, are the exception to the rule.  You’re the one and only Restaurant Critic who has ever taken the time to give me a preview of a poor review before it ran in the papers. So, when I hear you wish to come around and discuss your review, I know it’s not going to be a good one, am I right?”

Benedict ate a pork scratching.  “You’re spot on.”

Donna made eyes at Benedict to remain quiet and slid the review across the table towards Jamie Oliver.  “You might as well read it for yourself.”

Jamie reluctantly picked up the sheet of paper, took a healthy swallow of tea in order to fortify himself and began to read it aloud:

"In spite of a disappointing first visit and at the urging of several readers who vehemently disagreed with my first review; I decided to give Jamie Oliver’s newest restaurant another try.  For those who haven’t read the first review: The name of the restaurant is Comfort, and the focus is on American comfort food.”  Jamie paused for a minute to gather his thoughts together.  “I think the problem lies in the fact that an American-born Food Critic is going to be hyper-critical of a Brit’s take on traditional American comfort foods.”

“And you would be right,” snickered Donna. 

“To be honest, Donna was beyond hyper-critical that night. She’s very particular when it comes to American dishes,” added Benedict.  “My Mum’s terrified of cooking anything that could be conceived as being even remotely American for her.”

Jamie gave a bitter laugh.  “Then I can fully sympathize with your mum, Ben.”

“As you were,” said Benedict eagerly, as he was looking forward to hearing more.

Jamie cleared his throat and continued reading:

“The warm, cozy decor is done in soothing earth tones that give off a welcoming feeling of 'comfort'.  The front of the house manages to be both friendly and professional without being aloof. The foods are supposed to be homey and comforting. Everything about this restaurant was meant to conjure up warm childhood memories of being 'at home' in your mother's kitchen. Unfortunately, the food didn't unless your mother was a lousy cook."

Jamie looked up at Donna.  “Bugger!  And that was just the opening paragraph.  I shudder to read the rest of it.”

“I did say I liked the décor and your staff gets kudos,” countered Donna.

“Well, your sister designed the interior for me,” retorted Jamie.

“If you ask me, that last sentence was a bit nasty, Darling,” commented Benedict.

“No one asked you.  This is between Jamie and me,” said Donna testily. 

Jamie continued to read:

"The appetizer of 'Old Fashioned Beef Vegetable Soup' - tasted just that - Old.  I'm all in favor of soup being simmered for hours to achieve a deep, rich flavor, but this tasted as if it had been simmered and re-simmered for days on end with the cooks adding water to stretch it out as in times of famine."

Donna sipped her drink and nodded. 

Benedict covered his mouth to suppress a laugh.

“What’s so funny?” asked Donna, glaring at him.

“I found the part about the times of famine was quite amusing, is all.”

“Not all of us found it amusing,” declared Jamie with a frown.

Donna leaned across the table. "The soup had no flavor, Jamie.  I'm willing to bet your cooks didn't bother with roasting the bones and the vegetables."

Jamie made a note on the paper.  "They're supposed to. It's the first step of the recipe."

"I bet they decided to take a short cut that day and no one would be the wiser," said Benedict.  _Oh, oh.  I'd better shut the fuck up.  I don't fancy the way Donna just glared daggers at me._

“The vegetables were also overcooked,” added Donna.  “They should have been tender, not mushy.”

Jamie made another note and continued to read:

"The chicken noodle soup had a full-bodied chicken taste, but was marred by the curious addition of an old trainer.  In addition to the off-putting murky color, it was so salty; it must have been made with water from the Dead Sea."

Benedict wagged his finger at Donna.  “For fuck’s sake!  Aren’t you the cheeky one?” he laughed.  “I do give you points for using trainer rather than sneaker.”

“Bloody hell!” mumbled Jamie.

Benedict looked at Jamie.  “I wouldn’t blame you if you were pissed off at her, Mate.  I actually wasn’t enamoured with the soup myself, but…”

_This is the man who we want to cook our wedding meal.  I wish Benedict would keep his comments to himself._

“Thank you, Benedict.  However, we won’t need your blow-by-blow commentary.  If you don’t mind,” snapped Donna.

_What did I say to make her so stropy? Oh, she doesn’t want me to further irritate Jamie because we’re planning to ask him to cater our wedding breakfast.  Unfortunately, Donna’s doing a brilliant job of irritating him on her own._

“I didn’t mean to upset anyone,” said Benedict in a sulky tone.  “You don’t have to get your knickers in a twist.”

“We added a Parmesan cheese rind to give the soup a depth of flavour,” explained Jamie, making notes.  “That doesn’t justify it being overly salty though. I have a feeling the cook didn’t adjust the salt to accommodate the natural saltiness of the cheese.”

“It didn’t work for me, sorry,” said Donna.  “All I could taste was salt.  I’d use one or the other, but only if I were making an Italian-style soup.”

“Point made and taken,” said Jamie.  He cleared his throat and continued reading:

"I was very excited when I was presented with what I thought was a palate cleanser of beef aspic.  The last time I had aspic was at a relative’s wedding years ago, and I had enjoyed it immensely.  Aspic is something not often seen on menus these days, and my fellow diners and I were pleased to see that Comfort was bringing it back.”

Jamie looked alarmed.  “We don’t have aspic on the menu!  I’m confused as hell!”

“Keep reading.  You obviously didn’t get to the punchline yet,” snickered Benedict.  “I’m dying to hear how she worded this!”

“Before we get on with this, may I ask who your fellow diners were, besides the chap on my right?” inquired Jamie.

“Of course:  Ben, his parents, his sister and her husband and their two daughters.”

Jamie nodded and continued to read:

“I couldn't wait to try the refreshing, cold, jellied delight I remembered so fondly from my childhood.  Then I sadly realized that it was only my beef stew entree that had arrived at the table, cold and congealed."

Benedict caught himself laughing out loud. “Oh, that is hysterical!  Unfortunately, Donna’s right about that, Jamie.  It looked bloody awful…like some sort of murky, brown…gunk.  Stew needs to be served hot.”

“Thanks for pointing that out, Ben,” Jamie muttered and made a note on the paper.  “Otherwise, I never would have known.”

“I didn’t intend to be snarky,” said Benedict.  “Please accept my apology.”

“Its fine, Ben, I hate when the kitchen slacks off and cocks things up. I’m sorry that your stew wasn't brought up to proper temperature, Donna.  There's no excuse for that.”

Jamie finished reading Donna’s review in silence as she and Benedict finished their drinks and the pork scratchings.

“These pork scratchings are brilliant,” commented Benedict.

“Thanks,” replied Jamie somewhat distractedly. “It’s a new addition to our nibbles section of the menu.”

No one said anything for a good minute as Jamie took the time to re-read the review. 

“Just for the record, Donna, the macaroni cheese didn't come out of a box - that was a low blow.  We make everything from scratch here – even the bloody ketchup!"

Benedict looked at Donna with raised eyebrows.  “I don’t recall anything being wrong with the macaroni cheese.  Everyone raved about it.”

“Not everyone. Allow me, Mate,” said Jamie as he raised a hand and read from the paper once again:

"The memories evoked by the macaroni and cheese were that of my best friend's mom, who couldn't cook to save her life.  She would serve up that classic neon orange, pasty concoction made from the mystery contents in a blue cardboard box that is very popular in the US for some unknown reason."

“Well, I have to agree with you that the stuff that comes out of the box is bloody awful,” laughed Jamie.  “I’m thinking a lot of people use it because it’s easy and quick to make.  Mine takes quite a while to make, and I still stand behind it.”

“After tasting it that night, I’d never stand behind it.  I’d run from it!” guffawed Donna.  “It was really awful, Jamie.  You weren’t there that night to taste it.”

Benedict side-eyed Donna and smiled slyly.  Then he cleared his throat.

“Excuse me for saying so, but I really enjoyed that dish _._ I thought the macaroni cheese was almost better than my mum's, which is the gold standard as far as I’m concerned.  All those little bits of crispy bacon were brilliant and adding the Stilton to the cheddar was a nice twist. Donna, you must have been thinking of something else.”

“No, I wasn’t.  The sauce was too thick, and the pasta was overcooked.”

“I don’t know about that.  I fancy a nice, thick sauce.  It clings better to the pasta.”

“Stilton doesn’t belong in American macaroni and cheese,” retorted Donna.  "Just good, sharp cheddar."

“Pardon me for being contrite; but did either of you realize that macaroni cheese has its origin here in England?” asked Benedict.  “So, technically, it’s not American.”

“Thomas Jefferson apparently had it while traveling in Europe and brought the recipe back to the US along with a pasta machine he acquired in Italy,” said Donna.  “From what I read, he probably helped to popularize it by serving it to dinner guests during his presidency.  Anyway, macaroni and cheese was readily adopted by our culture and is now considered a classic American comfort food.”

“Why don’t we just call it a draw and say both cultures consider it one of their major comfort foods?” suggested Jamie. 

“Yeah, but…” began Benedict.

 _Shut up, Benedict! You don’t know shit about this!_ Donna eased off her shoe and gingerly felt around for Benedict’s foot.  She finally made contact with his shin.

Benedict sat up straight and raised an eyebrow at her as he felt her run her foot down his leg.

_Christ!  I am so blessed!  My fiancée suddenly likes to be flirty in public situations...I’m more than happy to play along with her....  
_

Benedict didn’t have time to think about getting his shoe off, when he felt Donna kick him hard in the ankle.

_For fuck’s sake!  That hurt like a bitch!  Okay, I get it.  She wasn’t flirting.  She wants me to shut up.  
_

Benedict leaned down to rub his ankle as he glared at Donna, who kept speaking with the chef as if he wasn’t there.

“I agree, Jamie.  We’ll consider it a draw.” _  
_

Jamie smirked and drank some tea before continuing:

"Oh, and I didn’t fancy this bit about the pudding: What a pity their cream whipper wasn't working properly.  The soft, glop that crowned my otherwise perfect apple pie could not hold its shape. It had the consistency of melted shaving cream.  Apple pie should be served warm with a scoop of vanilla ice cream."

Benedict frowned and shook his head. “Apple pie should be served with a slice of good, sharp English cheddar.”

Donna rolled her eyes.  “Your preference is duly noted, should I ever bake you an apple pie.”   _And it he keeps this up, it will be just as soon as hell freezes over. Why does he feel the need to butt into everything?   And I want to marry this man?  Yes, I do.  For better or worse.  Right now is a dress rehearsal for worse.  
_

_Somehow I don’t see an apple pie in my future,_ thought Benedict. _Good thing I got to taste it that time I was staying over at her flat when she got pissed at the Golden Fleece._ ** _  
_**

Jamie shook his head and made another note.  He pursed his lips.

"It was meant to be lightly whipped cream, Donna.  Not stiff like meringue.  I felt the addition of ice cream would have been overkill."

"I think we're going to have to agree to disagree on that one, too, Jamie," said Donna, reaching into her handbag for a moist towelette in order to clean her hands.

Jamie sighed heavily and folded up the review, which he stuck in one of his apron pockets.  “You’re a force to be reckoned with, Donna Saint James.  You’re one brutal critic, bless.”

“I felt I had to tell the truth, Jamie.  Would you rather I lie to you because you and Benedict are friends?”

“No, of course not!  I wasn’t there that night; but I’m sure everything you said was justified.   I’ll gather the staff together and speak with them first thing tomorrow.”

“I didn’t mean to be as harsh as I was about certain things,” began Donna.

“Oh, yes you did, Love,” retorted Jamie, waving his hand dismissively.  “However, it was fair and deserved.  Not all your comments were negative.  There were plenty of positive things in the review as well.”

“I hope you’re not too angry.”

“I’m not angry at all.  I’ve had critics write a whole helluva lot worse than that,” Jamie laughed.  “I’m not one to hold a grudge.  I want for us to get on.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” said Donna, casting a meaningful glance towards Benedict, who gave her a barely imperceptible nod.  “I’ve gotten some scathing emails from a couple of chefs about bad reviews.”

“A chef has to learn to take the good reviews with the bad. Everyone’s taste is different.  To be honest, I’m seriously considering reinventing the menu as the returns have not been what I hoped them to be.”

“What are you thinking of doing instead?” asked Benedict.

“British comfort foods,” replied Jamie with a shy smile.  “And macaroni cheese will remain on the revamped menu, but with some tweaks.”

“Brilliant choice,” said Benedict.

“That’s what you do best,” added Donna.  “I think that’s a great idea, Jamie.”

Jamie nodded his agreement.  “My wife thought so, too, when I told her.”

Benedict smiled and rubbed his hands together.  “Well, now that the review business has been sorted, we can get down to our other reason for coming around.”

Jamie raised his eyebrows at Benedict.  “Blimey! There’s more?”

“No worries, Mate.  It’s nothing bad.  Donna and I just booked Kenwood House in Hampstead for our wedding breakfast this morning.”

“Oh, that’s a fabulous spot!” exclaimed Jamie.  “I read they’ve been doing a complete renovation.”

“Yes, and the inside is mostly finished,” confirmed Donna.  “And it’s gorgeous!”

“They did an extraordinary job,” agreed Benedict.  “We were lucky to be able to book it.”

“It’s a pity they didn’t sack their caterers and hire new ones,” said Jamie quietly.  “I hate to have to tell you this, but being your friends and all…well…I’ve heard bloody awful things about the food.”

“Funny you should say that,” laughed Donna.  “The wedding planner at Kenwood House intimated they weren’t the best.”

“Which brings us to the other reason why we’re here,” declared Benedict.  “We’ve been told we can bring in our own caterer; and you automatically came to mind for both of us.  We’d be over the moon if you’d consent to cater our wedding breakfast, Jamie.”

“Benedict and I also feel that you’re partly responsible for bringing us together,” added Donna.  “Not to mention we adore your style of cooking. We’d be honored if you’d cater our wedding reception.”

“You have the bollocks to ask me to cater your wedding after that shite review?  There’s no way I’d cook for you, Love!” said Jamie with a straight face. “Might I suggest you go across the mall to Bread Street Kitchen and have a go at Gordon Ramsey?  Perhaps he’s free that day.”

_Oh, no!  His feelings are hurt!  Why did I have to be such a bitch about the review?  Why couldn’t I have been a bit more diplomatic instead of being so snotty?  
_

_Fuckity, fuck, fuck!  Could he really be serious?_

Benedict and Donna exchanged horrified looks.

“You don’t mean that, Jamie!” blurted out Benedict.  “Do you?”

Jamie shook his head and began to laugh uproariously as his smacked his knee.  “Of course I don’t mean that, you dolt; but the expressions on your faces was worth it.  I’d be delighted to cater your wedding.  When is it?”

“Oh, my God!  I really thought you meant it!” cried Donna.  “Thank you, Jamie!  This means so much to us!”

“We’re getting married on December fourth of next year,” replied Benedict.  

Jamie pulled out the review and made a note on it.  “Let’s make a firm date to sit down and sort out all the details together.  You should plan on using a full morning to do it. I’ll have a standard catering contract prepared and will email you our standard catering packages, which we can modify according to what you envision.  I’m sure we can come up with something that will impress the hell out of your guests. How’s one day next week?”

Donna pulled out her cellphone and scrolled to her calendar.   “I’m free every morning except for Monday.  Ben’s only available on Thursday.”

Jamie made another note.  “Thursday it is then.  Let’s meet here at nine, and we can chat over breakfast.”

“I’m so looking forward to choosing a menu,” said Donna.  “I’ve got tons of ideas floating around in my head.”

“As do I,” added Benedict.  _I’ll make sure to ring Jamie prior to Thursday about the possibility of a surprise fireworks display and dessert party.  I’ve got to get this all sorted out before Sherlock begins filming.  Then I’ll be up in Cardiff during the week with only my weekends free.  
_

“I’m sure between the three of us, we can put together a wedding feast that your guests will always remember,” Jamie assured them.  “I’ll probably ask my mentor, Gennaro, to join us as consultant being he’s always got genius ideas to contribute.”

 _Hmmm…Neil should fancy that…a bill for a wedding breakfast consultant,_ thought Benedict with amusement.

“The more, the merrier,” said Donna.

“So, what are your plans for tonight?  Do you fancy having an early dinner here?” asked Jamie.  “It’s almost time for us to begin service, so I can check to see about getting you a table or you can sit here before we get slammed.”

“Thanks for the offer, but we already dinner plans with my parents,” explained Donna.  “We’re meeting them at the Tate Modern’s Restaurant.”

 _Oh, why can’t we eat here and meet those bastards for just coffee?_   Thought Benedict, as he looked towards the restaurant longingly.  _Must I suffer through an entire meal with them?_

“They’ve brilliant food there,” said Jamie. “Jools and I go there often.”

 _You’re welcome to go in my place, Jamie_ , thought Benedict grimly.

“Well, enjoy and cheers!”  Jamie slid off the stool and gave Donna a double-cheeked kiss and hugged Benedict.

 _Lucky me, my perfect day will now go straight to hell_ , thought Benedict Cumberbatch as he and Donna Saint James left Barbecoa.

 

 

 

 

  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. The photos of the rooms Benedict and Donna chose are actually from Claridges in London. They were what I envisioned for their wedding.
> 
> 2\. All the procedures and details of the Kenwood House wedding are fictional. I have no idea if you could bring in an outside caterer; but it seemed natural to me that Benedict and Donna would ask Jamie Oliver to cater their reception.
> 
> 3\. Even though the real Benedict had fireworks after his wedding; the idea that my version would have a fireworks dessert for Donna was already conceived prior to his getting married in real life. It is one of those weird coincidences. 
> 
> 4\. Jamie Oliver does not own a restaurant called "Comfort" - that is totally fictitious. The Gennaro referred to is Jamie's mentor; chef and restauranteur, Gennaro Contaldo.
> 
> 5\. The Disney Fireworks Dessert Parties are real and do take place - I've seen many during the years being held in various locations in Epcot and the Magic Kingdom. I attended one in the Magic Kingdom held on Tomorrowland Terrace; and felt it was nice to do once as it was very expensive and no one can eat that much dessert to make it worthwhile not even me! LOL
> 
> 6\. In Donna's review she unfavorably compares Jamie's macaroni and cheese to Kraft Macaroni and Cheese Dinner, which is a very popular non-perishable, dried macaroni and cheese product sold in grocery stores in the US (and UK I've recently read) and meant to be a quick and nutritious meal. I have many family and friends who love it; but I personally do not care for it, hence Donna's negative review. No offense is intended to those who enjoy it.


	159. Chapter 159

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Benedict and Donna spend Christmas with Wanda and Timothy in Gloucestershire – Part 1. 
> 
> Note: I’ll be using *************** for things happening at the same time.

 

 

The train carrying Benedict Cumberbatch and Donna Saint James was just outside of Swindon Station in Gloucestershire.  It was just about ten in the morning on the day before Christmas Eve.  The ride had passed uneventfully with Donna having fallen asleep shortly after their train had departed Paddington Station.

“We’re here, Darling!  Time to wake up,” announced Benedict, as he gave Donna a gentle shake.  “We’re the next stop.”

Donna yawned and looked at him with bleary eyes.  “How long have I been sleeping?”

“Most of the trip,” laughed Benedict.  “You were out cold by the time we left the London suburbs.”

“Crap!  I wanted to enjoy the scenery.  I feel so bad not keeping you company.”

Benedict stood up and began to collect their luggage.  The train carriage was just about empty at that time of the morning.  “It’s quite alright, Love.  You gave me time to have a read of my book.”

“Well, it doesn’t say much for _my_ choice of books if it put me to sleep so quickly.”

“No, it doesn’t,” agreed Benedict with a smirk.

“What happened to my tea?”

“I drank it.”

“Thanks.”

“It was my pleasure.  Nothing warms you like hot builder’s tea on a brutally cold morning such as this.  Might I suggest you have a look out the window?”

Donna yawned and gazed at the scenery in awe as the train pulled into the London Overground's Swindon Station.

“As you can see whilst you were snoozing, the scenery has changed rather dramatically.  Behold!  Snow!” he announced with a sweep of his hand.

Donna had been feeling very excited when Benedict told her on the way to Paddington Station that it had snowed the night before in Gloucestershire.  She put on her down coat, scarf and gloves; picked up her handbag and small carry-on and followed Benedict out of the train. 

“Oh my gosh!  It’s like a winter wonderland out here!” Donna exclaimed as they stepped out onto the platform, and the wind whipped around them. 

“Yep.  As we got farther away from London, I began to detect traces of snow on the ground; and by the time we arrived in the immediate area, the entire area was blanketed with about four inches I’d say.”

“Shit!  It’s cold as a bitch, too.  I’m glad I listened to you and wore my snow gear.”

“Wait until we get to the open spaces out in the country.  Then you’ll really feel it,” chuckled Benedict. 

“Where are we meeting your dad?”

“There’s an area just outside the ticket hall for pickups.”

“Then on to this famous country retreat I’ve been hearing so much about.”

“Well, not quite. Taking account for what a stickler Dad is for tradition…”

“Hmmm…just like someone else I know.”

Benedict smiled as they entered the ticket hall and crossed the large room to the exit.  “We’ll probably drive right over to the pop-up Christmas tree lot in the village and pick out our tree.  Mum wants all of us to decorate it tonight after dinner.”

“That sounds like fun!  I can say that I helped decorate four trees this year.”

“Four?”

“If you count Adam and Alice’s tree trimming party last week. However, you may not remember it that well because you were drunk on Alice’s boozy eggnog.”

“Oh, yes, of course.  That eggnog was extraordinary.”

“I’ve never had eggnog that packed a wallop like that!” giggled Donna.

“You haven’t had Dad’s yet,” Benedict snorted as his eyes scanned the waiting cars until he spied the silver Audi.  Timothy had already gotten out of the car and had popped the boot open for them to deposit their luggage in.  He was wearing a heavy wool overcoat, leather gloves and sported a tweed cap on his head.  “There’s Dad!”  Benedict grinned and waved.  _I never realize just how much I miss him and Mum until I actually see them_.

 

***************************************************

 

Timothy Carlton had been patiently waiting outside the Swindon train station in his silver gray Audi for fifteen minutes.  The electronic departures and arrivals display board showed that the train from London was indeed on time.  Timothy’s mobile began to ring as he read the copy of the newspaper he had brought along with him to help pass the time.  He glanced at the caller ID to see that it was Wanda.

_Hells bells!  Now what did she forget?  We only spent most of yesterday shopping for dinner._

“Field Agent Carlton speaking from the Swindon Train Station.   Do you have yet another assignment for me today, Commander?”

_“Stop that, you!  I was ringing to see if their train is still on schedule.”_

“According to the station arrivals board it is.  It’s due at ten o’clock, which it isn’t yet.  Don’t you have a turkey to deal with or something?”

_“The turkey’s already in the brine, so there’s nothing to do until tomorrow morning, aside from get lunch ready and trim the tree.”  
_

“Off you go then.  I don’t want to keep you from making any last minute preparations for the arrival of Barrister Ben.” _  
_

_“Would you be a love and pick up a couple of things for me before heading back?”_

“I’ve already been tasked with selecting our Christmas tree, Commander.”

_“I didn’t realize you considered that a task. You and Ben have done that together every year since he was a small.  I thought it was something you look forward to doing with him.”_

“And I do look forward to it very much,” said Timothy with a fond smile.  “It’s become an even more special experience now that he’s grown.”

_“Why’s that?”_

“Because he’s taken over tying the blasted thing to the roof of the car for me,” chuckled Timothy.  “Now, what do you need this time, Pet?”

_“A wedge of Stilton and one of that good, sharp farmhouse cheddar from the cheese shop...”_

“I could swear we already bought cheese yesterday yes?”

_“We did, but I have the bulk of it reserved for cooking.  This is for snacking on if anyone is feeling peckish.”_

“Jolly good then.”

_“I wasn’t done yet.”_

“I thought you said I needed to pick up two things.  Stilton and cheddar qualify as two things.”

_“I was thinking Ben fancies crumpets when I make Welsh rarebit.”_

“Heaven forbid our son’s Welsh rarebit cover ordinary white toast!  I’ll go around to the bakery as well then and get a dozen.”

_“Splendid.  Thank you, Tim.  I really appreciate it.”_

“If there’s one thing I can do, Commander, its follow instructions.  Ah, the train is just pulling into the station.”

_“I have to admit that I can’t wait until we’re alone with Ben so he can tell us what happened at the Tate Friday night. I kept trying to get him alone at the engagement party and Donna’s tree trimming brunch, but Ben was adamant that neither were the proper time or place to discuss it.”_

“All I know is that it had something to do with Toni, and things were very chilly between them at the party from what I could see.”

_“Ben gave her a wide berth all night.  Oh, I do hope Donna goes to bed early tonight, so he can come downstairs and tell us all about it.”_

“When I approached the topic yesterday, Ben assured me that he’ll tell us just as soon as Donna goes upstairs to Skype call her parents.  The wankers should be back in the States by now, bless them.”

_“Judi just happened to witness a brief exchange between Ben and Toni during the party.  Apparently, Toni made an attempt to make amends for whatever happened; but Ben just walked away as if she weren’t even there.”_

“Ah, Field Agent Dench was working that night.  She’s bloody good as I didn’t even realize there were plants amongst us at the Garrick Club.”

_“Una said she never saw Ben look so livid…”  
_

“Bloody hell!  Field Agent Stubbs was working as well?  Do you ever give your field agents the night off, Commander?” _  
_

_“Una said the expression on Ben’s face was bone-chilling when Toni tried to talk him around.  Apparently, Neil took her aside and said something to her.  I wish I could have seen it!”_

“I’m positive I can get Ben to reproduce that look for you any time you’d fancy, Commander.  All I have to do is tell him about the Plan, and you’ll behold that same expression in under a minute.”

_“Very funny, Tim!”  
_

“Oh, it wouldn’t be.”

 _“No.  It wouldn’t._ _Have you seen them yet?  What’s taking them so long?”_

“Knowing Donna, she’s stopped to use the loo in the station.  Ben said she never misses a chance to use a loo.  Oh, here they come now.”

_“Are they wrapped up warm?”_

“Aye, they appear to be.  Field Agent Carlton signing off for now, Commander.”

Timothy popped the boot open and got out of the car as Benedict waved at him.  He returned the wave and waited as the couple made their way across the plaza to him.

_I never realize just how much I miss my son until I see him.  
_

 

***************************************************

 

“Are you sure you’re comfortable back there, Love?” Benedict asked Donna from the front passenger seat of the Audi.

“I’ve got plenty of room,” replied Donna. 

“I can adjust the heat if you’re still feeling a chill,” offered Timothy as he drove away from the station.

“Oh yes, that would be lovely,” said Benedict, removing his gloves and putting his hands by the heat vent.

“I was addressing Donna,” retorted Timothy.  “I already know your answer.”

 _NO!  This car is like a frigging oven._   “I wouldn’t mind if it were a bit cooler in here, Tim.”

“I think not.  I’m still cold,” said Benedict as Timothy reached out to adjust the heat.  “There’s no need to make it cooler, Dad.” 

Benedict turned in his seat and reached back in between the seats.  Donna spied a vent for the heat and air conditioning just below the back of the console.  He pushed the levers so the hot air flow was completely shut off. 

“There.  Now, you won’t be hot.”

 _I wonder if they constantly bicker over temperature,_ thought Timothy with amusement as he headed for the A361.    _He’s forever ‘chilly’ whilst she’s forever ‘hot as hell’. Blimey!  They would drive me bonkers._

“I thought Swindon was a little village,” remarked Donna as she looked around at the sights.  “This is a very large town by my standards.”

“Oh, it is,” confirmed Timothy.  “Swindon has everything one could want.  There’s a large variety of shops, restaurants, pubs, theatres, hotels…”

“There’s an outlet mall that Mum and Tracy frequent,” interrupted Benedict.  “That should be right up your street.”

“All this time I thought you and Wanda lived in a little village.”

“We do,” confirmed Timothy.  “We’re headed to Little Faringdon, which is the village we live in.  It’s about a twenty minute drive from here.  I promise that you’ll find it tiny by your standards.”

“Are you going straight to the cottage or are we making our usual stop?” Benedict asked Timothy with an excited twinkle in his eyes.

“If neither of you have no objections, then I think we need to stick with our tradition of buying our Christmas tree,” replied Timothy.  “Is that alright with you, Donna?”

“Yes, of course. I’d love to see the village,” replied Donna

“Splendid!”

“Benedict filled me in on Cumberbatch Christmas Traditions,” she added.

“Even better, then you realize that one of these traditions involves not only getting the tree but making a couple of last minute stops for my wife as well.”

“No, that one Ben didn’t tell me about.”

“What did Mum forget this time?”

“We must stop in at Bertie’s and get some crumpets because it would be a sin should you have to eat your posh cheese on toast on actual toast.”

“What’s posh cheese on toast?” inquired Donna.

“Welsh Rarebit to you food critics,” snickered Benedict.  “Mum’s is the best. One extra stop isn’t bad considering we usually wind up hitting every fucking shop in the bloody village.”

“I wasn’t finished.  She also needs a piece of Stilton and farmhouse cheddar.”

“You’re going to adore the cheese shop!” Benedict said to Donna.  “Everything there comes from local dairy farms.  This won’t take us long – maybe thirty minutes tops; and most of those thirty minutes is spent on my tying the bloody tree to the roof of the car!”

“Donna and I can do the shops whilst you tie up the tree then.”

Once they left the A361, Donna noticed that the landscape had changed considerably.  The verdant countryside was dotted with thatched and limestone Cotswold cottages that punctuated the rolling hills. Finally, they drove into a small hamlet that looked straight out of a scene from a fairytale.  There were a few narrow, winding streets, lined with shops, restaurants and pubs and even an inn and a hotel.  The open village green overlooked the main hub of the village and an old Norman Church.  A small stream ran through the village and there was a mill at the end of the street.

“It’s so quaint!” exclaimed Donna.  “This is what the UK Pavilion in Epcot would look like had they kept building. I can’t wait to get out and do some exploring!”

Timothy drove them directly to a small outdoor car park, and the trio walked up one of the winding streets to the florist.  A pop-up Christmas tree lot was adjacent to the shop, selling trees, roping and wreaths. 

“The florist owns the lot,” Benedict explained.  “During the rest of the year, they use the lot for outdoor plants, flowers and herbs.  In the fall, it’s pumpkins, gourds and Halloween decorations.”

Donna spied an old-fashioned tea room tucked away between the village Bakery and Chemist across the street.

_Hmmm… Benedict and Tim both mentioned that it’s a tradition for them to pick out the Christmas tree for the cottage on the way back from the station. It’s obviously a very big deal to them, and something they look forward to doing together. Maybe I should duck inside that tea room and have some tea while they go about their tree shopping.  I’ll feel like I’m intruding on a special father-son bonding experience if I hang around even though I know they will insist that I should help them.  
_

“Umm…Tim, Benedict, I’m really feeling cold out here.  Would you guys mind if I went across the street and warmed up over a cup of tea while you buy the tree?”

_Donna’s never cold.  She wants Dad and me to carry on alone.  That was very thoughtful of her._

_My future daughter-in-law realizes this is something Ben and I do together.  I like that she’s considerate._

Benedict and Timothy regarded Donna for a moment and then exchanged glances.  Timothy shrugged and Benedict nodded.

“No, not at all.  You go on over, and we’ll catch up with you as soon as we’re done here,” said Benedict. 

“They have a nice cream tea,” said Timothy.

“Okay.  See you two soon!”

 

Donna sat at a window table in the tea shop sipping Earl Grey tea while watching the two men carry on with their tradition.  She enjoyed watching the comradery between the two men as they seemingly bantered with and teased each other while making their way through the pine trees. After fifteen minutes, the duo had selected a robust-looking pine tree that Benedict tied securely to the Audi’s roof while Timothy paid for it. Afterwards, they came over to the tea room, had a cuppa and then the trio proceeded to make the rounds of Bertie’s Bakery and the Cheese Shop to fulfill Wanda’s requests.  Timothy and Benedict were known at both shops and she noticed how Timothy had beamed with pride as he introduced her as Benedict’s fiancée.  After a little wedding chatter, they finally were able to get underway to the cottage. 

_I can’t wait to lay my eyes on this tiny cottage that Ben’s always going on about.  I wonder if their heads really do almost touch the ceilings.  
_

Donna didn’t have long to wait as not more than ten minutes later, Timothy made a right turn off the narrow road and drove through an impressive-looking gate and onto what appeared to be a long, driveway that was paved in crushed stones.

 _This is some humongous piece of property they own,_ thought Donna.  _I thought jobbing actors didn’t make all that much.  
_

The driveway split off and the Audi came to a stop at the fork. Donna gasped as she took in the imposing-looking, sprawling, yellow limestone farmhouse with a stone fence surrounding what looked like a compound on the left.  The left fork of the driveway led to an open wooden gate, and Donna could see a vintage silver Rolls Royce and a black London taxi parked in front of the house in the large circular driveway.

“So, what do you think of this little country retreat?” asked Timothy with a cheeky smile.  

_Holy fucking crap!  Is he shitting me???  This is no little Cotswold crafter’s cottage.  Cumberbatch Cottage is more like Cumberbatch Manor!  My parents are not going to believe this.  How could Mom’s investigators have missed this one?  They must have used some of Tim’s inheritance to buy it, unless it belonged to Tim’s family. No.  Benedict specifically said that they saved up to buy it.  Holy cow!_

“Well, this certainly is no little crafter’s cottage,” said Donna with a smirk.  “I was expecting something out of Alice in Wonderland, and instead I see a mansion before me! You and Wanda must get lost in there!”

Benedict and Timothy exchanged puzzled glances and immediately began to roar with laughter. 

“Bloody hell, Ben! Didn’t you tell her?”

“I think it may have slipped my mind.  Can you imagine?  You and Mum could lose each other for days on end in there!” 

“Every day could be like a treasure hunt!” laughed Timothy. “And Wanda would be my prize.”

“We’ve been here since I was twelve, and I still haven’t figured out where all the fucking entrances and exits are!”

“I’m not sure I understand,” said Donna with a slight frown.  “Do you only live in part of it?”

Timothy wiped the tears of laughter from his eyes.  “Heavens no, Dear Girl!  What my dolt of a son neglected to tell you is that this isn’t our house!”

“Our house is across the road,” laughed Benedict, pointing towards the right fork of the unpaved driveway.

Donna looked in the direction that Benedict had pointed and saw a small, crafter’s cottage set back from the driveway with a neatly manicured front garden and perfectly tended lawn surrounding it.  There were two outbuildings that she could see.  One was a garage and the other appeared to be a potting/storage shed. 

“Now, that’s more like what I envisioned,” said Donna.  “So, who lives in the Kennedy compound?”

“Kate Moss,” replied Timothy.  “Rumour has it that she paid two and a half million quid for that ‘little’ farmhouse.”

“It came complete with a party barn, which thankfully we’ve never heard any party noise from,” added Benedict.  “It’s utterly gorgeous behind those stone walls.”

“She’s actually quite the quiet one,” remarked Timothy.  “We hardly ever cross paths; and when we do, she’s actually quite lovely.”

“Have you been inside?” asked Donna.

“Yes, and Kate has taken tea here with us as well,” replied Timothy. “There are eight bedrooms and six bathrooms in addition to all the usual useless rooms that come with a house of that size. The property stands on over twelve acres and includes formal gardens, an ornamental pond, box hedging and a flagstone terrace, as well as a walled swimming pool which you can’t see from here.”

“I’ve been inside a couple of times whenever delivery trucks have dropped off packages for her at our place,” added Benedict. 

“Shall we show Donna how the other half lives then?” teased Timothy, shifting the car back into drive and taking the right fork, which led to the crafter’s cottage. “People always get lost coming here the first time.  They automatically assume that Church Farm is ours!”

Donna turned in her seat to take another look at the sprawling farmhouse. “Is that what they call it?  Church Farm?”

“Yeah,” replied Timothy as the car bumped along the crushed stone drive.  “That’s because there’s a small church on the property that the estate was once part of.”

The car came to a stop in front of the cottage, which was surrounded by a low stone fence.  There was a flagstone path set in the lawn that led to the blue painted front door, which was flanked by a wooden bench on each side.  The door was decorated with a pine wreath, trimmed with a bright red bow, and the door frame was trimmed with pine roping wound with white fairy lights.  A variety of evergreen bushes and plantings had been meticulously pruned.

“Welcome to the Little Faringdon Barn Owl Sanctuary!” exclaimed Benedict as he got out of the car and opened the door for Donna.

“I thought we were calling it the Cotswold’s Barn Owl Sanctuary,” said Timothy with a quick look towards the house.  “Wanda should be throwing open the door any second now to greet us.”

“Let’s unload the boot then,” suggested Benedict.  “I’ll manage the tree once we get everything moved inside.”

Donna removed the items they had bought in the village from the back seat as Benedict and Timothy busied themselves with retrieving the luggage from the boot of the car. 

“You’re _finally_ here!” came Wanda’s excited voice from the direction of the cottage.

Donna heard Benedict speaking to Timothy in a low voice.

“It’s not _that_ late, for fucks sake!”

“You know how impatient your mother gets.  It should remind you of someone.  She’s been looking forward to having you and Donna for the holidays; and since this is Donna’s first visit to the country, she’s been extra fussy making sure everything is perfect.”

Donna looked up to see her future mother-in-law standing in the doorway, wearing an apron that was adorned with owls wearing chefs’ hats and holding a variety of kitchen tools.  She took her carry-on from Benedict and headed for the door with Timothy and Benedict behind her.

“Mind your head,” Benedict warned Donna as she stepped up and over the threshold.  _Jeez Louise, that’s a low doorway even for me!_

“Welcome, Love!  Come right on through!” said Wanda with a huge smile, after she hugged and kissed Donna on both cheeks.  She ushered Donna through the doorway and into the tiny entrance foyer before moving on to hug and kiss her son, who automatically tilted his head before entering the house.

“Ben, you can bring the luggage upstairs to your room.  Tim, if you’d be so kind as to bring the cheese and crumpets to the kitchen.”

Timothy also ducked down as the entered the house.  “Aye, Commander,” he said, pausing to give his wife a mock salute.  He set down the bag he had been carrying and took the parcels from Donna. 

“Let me hang your coats,” said Wanda, holding out her arms.  “You’ll warm up in here in no time.”

The sound of birdsong suddenly filled the air.  Donna looked around for the source.

_What in the hell was that?  It sounds like it came from two different directions.  
_

Donna raised her eyebrows at Benedict questioningly.  He crinkled his nose and smiled at her.

“Ah, it’s robin o’clock as we say in bird speak or as we say in English:  its eleven o’clock,” snickered Benedict.

“Stop being so cheeky, Benedict,” Wanda glared at him. “Those were my birdsong clocks, Donna.”

“Why don’t you give Donna a tour once you get sorted upstairs,” suggested Timothy.  “We’ll be in the kitchen should you need anything.”

Donna waited until she was alone with Benedict.

“What’s with the singing clocks?” she giggled, tugging his sleeve.

Benedict grinned at her. “We don’t have conventional clocks in Cumberbatch Cottage, Darling. We have bird clocks that sing on the hour.  There’s one in the kitchen and one in the peach room. You’ll adapt soon enough.  Hell, after I’ve been here a couple of days, I start thinking in bird time.”

“And one of those clocks wasn’t enough?  She had to have two?” Donna covered her mouth to stifle the fit of giggles that threatened to engulf her.  Benedict shushed and wagged his finger at her. 

“Shame on you, Donna Saint James!  Of all people I would never have expected you to poke fun at Mum’s bird clocks being you’re the proud owner of a cow clock that moos on the hour.”

“That’s true.  I’m sorry,” said Donna, smiling up at him.  “I’m sorry for taking the piss.”

“You bloody well should be.”

“How was that?”

“How was what?”

“My use of the quaint expression: taking the piss.”

“It wasn’t half bad.  Well done you.”

“See, I’m sounding more British every day.”

“Not really, but it’s good for a giggle. You should have said: I humbly stand before you properly and thoroughly ashamed for taking the piss.”

“No one talks like that, except you!  I’m not as wordy as you are.”

“I’m going to pretend to ignore that.  So, are you ready for the tour then? Let’s gather up the luggage and start with the upstairs and get that sorted.”

Benedict hefted the two suitcases, and Donna took his duffle bag and her carry-on.  “Lead the way,” she said.

The narrow stairwell was painted butter yellow and lined with framed photographs of Benedict when he was younger.  Donna stopped on the stairs to peruse them.

“Oh, what’s this I see? Could this be another Benedict Cumberbatch tribute wall?  By God, it is! I guess the one in Kensington wasn’t enough.”

Benedict came to a halt and glared over his shoulder at her.  “Stop being such a snarky cunt!  These photographs are from different times in my life than the ones in Kensington.”

“Hmmm…how long did you say you were when your parents bought this place?”

“They bought it when I was twelve,” Benedict replied, setting the bags down on the step and looking at one of the photographs.  “This one was taken on my first day at Harrow.  I was thirteen.”

Donna looked and burst out laughing.  It was an old painting of Little Lord Fauntleroy, skipping off to school with his long hair and a wide-brimmed hat.

“I hope to God your Harrow school uniforms didn’t look like that!”

“Not exactly; but I’ll let you be the judge,” laughed Benedict as he pointed to a photograph of himself wearing light grey trousers, a navy blazer, white shirt, navy tie and straw boater hat with a navy band.  “This was taken in front of my dormitory at Harrow.  See, I look just like a knob!”

“No you don’t.  I think you look cute.”

“Your Granddad would say I look like a little posh toff.”

As the ascended the stairs, Donna took in all the different photos that she hadn’t seen before.  There was Benedict trimming the Christmas tree, decorating eggs at Easter, playing rugby and in a hot air balloon with both his parents. Her favorite was one of him, looking to be around nine or ten wearing a swim suit and playing on a beach.”

“How old were you in this one?”

“Ten.  We were at our holiday home in Galaxidi. The beach is a short walk from our house. I’m hoping we can get some time off to spend Easter there.”

“I can’t believe how different your hair color was – it was platinum blond.”

“Yeah, it started to darken and turn auburn right before I went to Harrow.”

“I like your little speedo,” snorted Donna. “You were so damn skinny back then!  I can see your ribs.  Didn’t they feed you?”

“I would eat tons of food, yet I’d still be like a rail. I was blessed with a fast metabolism.”

“That explains why you can eat whatever you please and remain thin.”

There was another one of Benedict on the beach wearing the same swim suit.  Wanda was in this one and wearing a bathing suit as well.

_Holy cow!  She’s pulling down his swim suit and kissing his bottom._

“Nice picture,” observed Donna with amusement.

“Yes, that is a picture of Mum kissing my arse.”

“Which she still does to this day,” snickered Donna.

Benedict looked startled by her comment. “Are you insinuating that I’m spoilt?”

“To a degree, yes you are.”

“Humph!”  Benedict turned and continued climbing the stairs.

Donna paused to look at the last photo at the top of the landing.  It was of Benedict and Timothy on a motorcycle.  Timothy was driving it, and Benedict had his arms wrapped around his father’s waist.

“So, this is where you got your love of motorcycles from.”

Benedict smiled fondly at the photograph and nodded confirmation.  “Dad still has his motorbike in the garage out back.”

“I can’t picture Tim actually driving one,” Donna confessed.

“Mum used to go riding with him before I came along.”

Donna giggled.  “I can visualize Wanda as a biker chick, all dressed in black leather.”

“She’s more like a biker hen now, but neither of you heard me say that,” said Timothy from the stairwell.  “She still looks hot in black leather.”

Donna and Benedict moved aside so Timothy could pass them.  Three doors opened up off the landing.  Donna guessed there were two bedrooms and a bathroom.

“Did Mum send you up here to bring us down?”

“No, nature sent me,” replied Timothy.  “The perils of having only one loo,” he sighed.

Benedict frowned.  “When I was last here, we had two. What happened to the one downstairs?  Did you decide to converter it into a walk-in pantry or something?”

“Your mother washed the floor earlier and put some sort of dressing on it, so I can’t go in there yet.  Apparently, I tracked in some mud earlier whilst I was out in the garden filling the bird feeders.”

“And this is the first room on our tour:  the bathroom,” said Benedict, as Timothy opened the door wide so Donna could take a peek before he went inside. 

The small white bathroom had a combination of low and sloped beamed ceilings.  The toilet and sink were in a separate room up a step from the room that contained the large soaking tub, which was in front of the window.

“You only have a hand-held shower up here,” explained Benedict.  “The downstairs loo has a walk-in shower.  It’s located right off the mud room; so I could hop right in if I got filthy whilst outside playing. To be honest, I prefer to go down and use the shower whenever I’m here as the ceiling’s higher.”

“I can appreciate that,” said Donna.  “You really weren’t joking when you said this was a tiny cottage.”

“It’s a tiny cottage meant for tiny people,” scoffed Benedict as he opened the first door.  “Dad and I are forever ducking through the doorways.”

“I noticed that your heads almost touch the ceiling in some spots.”

“Let’s get our stuff settled in our room,” suggested Benedict. 

Donna opened the door leading into the room on the left.  There was a queen-sized bed with a cane headboard and footboard underneath the a high ceiling with exposed beams that made it seem that the room was up in the rafters. The dark blue and cream floral wallpaper was carefully coordinated with the plaid draperies and bed linens.  There was a fireplace across from the bed and stuffed barn owls scattered around amongst the decorations. The room itself was small but the scaled-down furniture was carefully arranged so as to give the illusion of it being larger than it was.

“That’s Mum and Dad’s room,” said Benedict, as he crossed the landing and opened the other door.  “Their room is the only one in the bloody house that one can stand up in comfortably," he chuckled.  "As you will now see, my room is nowhere near that size!”

This room was small and cozy with a decidedly floral theme done in muted tones of blue, pink and green. The wrought iron bed frame of the full-sized bed had been painted light green. 

“Was this Tracy’s room?” inquired Donna.  “How pretty it is!  I can’t wait to see your old room, Honey.”

_I guess Donna didn’t notice that there are no more rooms on this floor._

“This _is_ my room,” came Benedict’s deep baritone from behind her.  “Tracy was already married a few years by the time we moved in here; so she didn’t have a room.  She and Derrick only live about fifteen minutes away.”

Donna entered the small room and gave a low whistle. “I had no idea you were so into…floral décor.”

“I don’t really mind feminine touches; but this is a bit over the top – even by my standards,” Benedict huffed as he brought the luggage into the room. “This is a far cry from how it originally looked in here.  It was a typical boy’s room with dark wood furniture.  The window treatment and bedding were red and blue plaid. Now, it’s like sleeping in a bloody flower garden.”

“The room does have a decidedly feminine air to it.  It really is very pretty.  Why the change over?”

“When I started going to Manchester, I felt I was an adult and moving on.  I didn’t see myself coming around here much once I was out on my own; so I told Mum she could have a go at redecorating my room and this is the result.”

“Wanda did a great job in here!”

“She stripped and refinished these bookshelves herself.  They used to hold my books and toys.  That shelf over the dresser mirror used to hold my model spaceships - now they’re home to some of Mum’s barn owl collection.”

Donna raised her head in order to gaze up at the owls lined up on the shelf and burst out laughing. 

“Holy shit!  There really are owls all over the place – I even saw one in the bathroom!  This cottage is a taxidermy wonderland!”  Quipped Donna.

“Taxidermy wonderland?  Hahaha!  That was snarky of you to say that,” laughed Benedict.  “Even if it is true.”

“They’re kind of cute and cuddly looking though.  I could get used to having them around.”

“You should try having a go at a wank with their eyes trained on you.”

“Hahaha!  I can see you lying on your bed of flowers with your pants down around your ankles and trying to jerk off in peace…rocking your hips and moaning…and then…”

_She doesn’t know that I usually remove my pants, but leave my socks on._

“Blimey! You really do have quite a vivid imagination, Sweetheart.”

Donna squeezed past Benedict and walked around the small room.  She stopped to examine the items on the dressing table.  She picked up a small china pot that had the saying ‘I Feel Pretty & Witty’ painted on the lid in fancy script.

“Is this your daily motto, Mr. Cumberbatch?”

Benedict squeezed around the white chair to stand beside her.  The room felt even more cramped than it usually did.   “Well, I do feel quite pretty some days,” he joked. “And others I feel like a complete troll.”

Donna hugged him around the waist.  “You never look like a troll to me.  You’re very handsome in my book.”

“I suppose I should count myself fortunate that someone thinks I am.”

“I think you’re fishing for compliments.”

“Always,” laughed Benedict.  “I’d ask you where you fancy I put your suitcase so you can unpack; but as you can see there’s only one choice,” he added as he hefted them all onto the bed.

Donna sat on the bed and bounced a bit.  “Mmmm…this is a nice, firm mattress.”

_How can there still be room enough for her to sit on the bed?_

“Bloody hell!  Now I know why the room seemed like it had less floor space. This is a new bed!” exclaimed Benedict, sitting down beside Donna.  “Ahhhhhhhh…this is very comfy!”

“We thought you might appreciate a full-sized bed rather than having to squeeze into that single one,” said Wanda from the open doorway.

“I used to have a single bed in here,” Benedict explained to Donna.  “It was so uncomfortable - my feet began to hang off the end once I reached my full height, not to mention what a pain in the arse it was whenever I…”

Benedict suddenly stopped himself.  _Turn on your mouth filter, Benedict, you tit and leave the motherfucking thing on._   He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck as his mind furiously scrambled for words to finish his sentence.

“…ahem…erm… had company over.” 

He smiled at Donna and crinkled his nose at her.  _Fuckity fuck fuck.  I almost said whenever Olivia slept over and we felt randy._

_I know damn well he was going to say when Olivia used to stay over. Had it been Adam or James or another one of his pals, he would have said so right away instead of grasping for words – not to mention there’s no way in hell he and one of friends would fit in a single bed._

Timothy joined Wanda at the doorway. “Don’t let my wife fool you.  Whilst it’s true we thought it was about time you had a proper sized bed to fit your frame, we also had an entirely selfish motive.”

“We were tired of that blasted mattress squeaking every time you shagged,” Wanda blurted out.  “Oh, it was so annoying!” she said to Donna. 

Donna raised an eyebrow and patted Benedict’s knee.  “Imagine that.”

“Christ,” muttered Benedict under his breath.  

“You have no idea how noisy it was!”

“Oh, I bet we were every bit as noisy as you two were,” said Benedict with a snide smile.

Donna looked from Benedict to Wanda and Timothy, whose faces had reddened considerably.  _Now, that I don’t even want to imagine._

“These seventeenth century crofter’s cottages were built very solidly,” retorted Timothy.  “You’d have to be outside on the landing to hear anything going on inside the bedrooms, and to do that you’d have to stand right beside the door with your ear glued to it, which I’m prepared to imagine both of you doing.” 

Donna almost barked out a laugh as Timothy paused to give both his wife and son meaningful looks.

_Hahaha!  Tim knows how they are:  Mother and son and their insatiable curiosity._

Benedict smiled serenely at his father.  “One does have to relieve oneself during the night yes?”

“Of course,” agreed Wanda.

“Of course,” said Timothy evenly. “But one just gets up and goes about one’s business without pausing to listen to what’s going on in the other room.”

“Timothy, the doors are not sound proof,” Wanda retorted.  “Ben has always been such a lusty little soul, bless him,” she said as an aside to Donna.

“Good grief,” said Donna under her breath.   _Nothing is sacred_. _These people will discuss anything and everything._

“For fucks sake, Mum!” hissed Benedict.  “We can dispense with the trip down Memory Lane!”

“I’ll second that motion, Pet,” agreed Timothy, rolling his eyes at his son.

“I also got rid of those lace curtains and replaced them with a blackout shade underneath the new window treatment, so you’ll have more privacy, Ben,” added Wanda.  “He’s never been one to close the drapes,” she said as another aside to Donna.  “But I suppose you already know that.”

 _That’s true,_ thought Donna.  _One day Benedict is going to be seen getting dressed and undressed through the windows, if he hasn’t already.  I know he’s fond of light; but he needs to learn to close the blinds and lower the shades._

_Now, if only Mum had gotten rid of those motherfucking owls, I’d be content.  I guess I’ll relegate them to the back of the closet after dinner.  I will not have them staring at me whilst I make love to Donna._

“Anyway, I wanted to let you know that lunch will be ready soon,” said Wanda as she headed back downstairs.  “Then I have an appointment to go into the village to get my hair and nails done.”

“At least you two will have a respite this afternoon,” Timothy whispered as he winked and closed the door to Benedict’s room.  “I get to sit in the tea room and have a read of my book and a cream tea.”

Benedict sighed and ran his hands through his hair. “Christ!  Just when I think I couldn’t get more mortified than I already am…”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m so sorry about Mum. She’s always been quite the free spirit.  No subject is ever taboo with her in front of company.”

“I think it’s nice that you and your parents can be so open about everything.  Mine certainly aren’t like that,” scoffed Donna. “Sometimes I’m jealous at how open you all can be with each other.”

Benedict rubbed both thighs.  “Well, it’s just…well…you know…some of that wasn’t called for.”

“It’s okay, Ben. I realize that you had a sex life before you met me.  You were with Olivia for a long time, and it’s only natural that you’d bring her over and spend the night.”

“In reality we rarely shagged here.  We’d wait until they went into town to run errands.  I’m chuffed that they replaced the bed. That fucking old mattress squeaked every time I turned over,” Benedict said shyly, as he looked at Donna from underneath his lashes.  “I hope this one doesn’t.”

Donna bounced up and down. “It doesn’t seem to.”

“Shall we unpack then? You can have the dresser.”

Donna leaned over and opened her suitcase and began to remove her underwear.  “I think we can risk co-mingling our things now.  We are getting married.”

“Yes, we are,” said Benedict with a huge grin.  “In less than a year, too!”

“Oh, look!  I don’t even have to get up to open the dresser drawers!” laughed Donna.  “I bet you can reach the closet doorknob from where you’re sitting.”

“That I can. This bloody room is so small you can reach everything from the bed.”  _And I hope to hell there isn’t a heap of soiled clothing on the wardrobe floor._ Benedict opened the door with dread and was relieved to see that all his things had been neatly hung up and pressed. _I must remember to thank Mum, bless her._

“I’ll store the suitcases under the bed.  That way we can get at the one with the presents easily.”

“Do you have any plans for after lunch?” inquired Donna as she carefully arranged their things in the drawers.

“Erm…not really.  Dad will be driving Mum into the village; so we’ll have two hours to ourselves.  I thought I might set up the tree in the lounge whilst they were out.  Then I’m free. Do you have any plans?”

“Yeah. I do.”

“Care to enlighten me?”

“I think we should try out this bed to see if it squeaks.”

“I’m always game for an afternoon lie down,” yawned Benedict as he shoved the suitcases underneath the bed.

“I’m not talking about that kind of lie down,” said Donna, as she pulled him down on top of her and kissed him deeply.  “I’m talking about the kind where you lie down on your back and I ride you for all you’re worth.  I’m feeling particularly horny today.”

Benedict Cumberbatch gave her a wicked grin as he got up and approached the shelf that was lined with Wanda’s barn owls.  “You chaps are going to have to go back in the closet then,” he said to the owls.  “It’ll be just like old times.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I decided to post another chapter today as next week is Easter and the following week is my birthday; so I'll be away with my family to celebrate. The next chapter will be posted on Sunday, April 30th. Happy Easter to all who celebrate! 
> 
> 2\. I have used the "Caitlin Moran Sunday Lunch with the Cumberbatches" interview as reference material for this chapter. I have used some of Benedict's quotes in the Swindon chapters and actual descriptions of rooms taken from there. The rest is purely fictional as far as the descriptions of the Cumberbatch property go. 
> 
> 3\. The article referred to in #2 was not only the inspiration for this story; but is extremely entertaining. If you haven't already read it, please do so as you won't regret it. It's on Cumberbatchweb's site in its entirety. Here is the link: http://www.benedictcumberbatch.co.uk/interviews/the-times-magazine-whats-not-to-love-about-benedict-cumberbatch/
> 
> 4\. I'm not sure if the weather is all that much different from London's in Swindon; but I wanted accumulating snow that sticks around- so it does in this story.
> 
> 5\. I don't know if there are 'pop-up Xmas tree lots' in the UK; but there is in this story. 
> 
> 6\. My description of Swindon is purely fictional.
> 
> 7\. Since the Cumberbatch cottage is next door to Kate Mosses' home (per the Moran interview), that would mean they live in the village of Little Faringdon. My description of Little Faringdon is a tiny bit fact; but mostly fictional. 
> 
> 8\. Donna's reference to the 'Kennedy Compound' refers to where the Kennedy family lives in Hyannis Port, Massachusetts. The private compound consists of three houses on six acres of waterfront property on Cape Cod along Nantucket Sound. The Kennedys were prominent in politics and public service. Many consider them akin to a political dynasty, producing our 35th President, John (JFK) along with his brother Robert (RFK) who served as Attorney General under him. RFK also held a senate seat and later ran for president himself, only to be assassinated. Another brother, Edward (Ted) also served as a democratic US Senator for many years.
> 
> 9\. Those are actual photos of Kate Mosses home.
> 
> 10\. The first interior of the Cumberbatch Cottage is where I imagined the Caitlin Moran interview took place (the peach room).
> 
> 11\. The exteriors (all except the first one because I liked that photo better) and lounge photo of Wanda and Timothy's cottage are actually taken from the film 'The Holiday' with Jude Law and Cameron Diaz. The holiday home was called Rosehill Cottage, hence the sign on the gate.


	160. Chapter 160

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Benedict and Donna spend Christmas with Wanda and Timothy in Gloucestershire – Part 2. 
> 
> Note: I’ll be using *************** for things happening at the same time.

 

“Just move it a little more to the right, Benedict,” instructed Donna Saint James from her spot on the cozy couch beside the crackling fire.

Benedict Cumberbatch was on his knees in front of the Christmas tree with his back to her.  His large hands steadied the tree as he moved the bucket, which contained the fragrant pine, a few inches in the direction Donna had bade him. 

“Better?”

“Perfect!”

“Are you absolutely sure?”

“Yep.  I wouldn’t touch a thing.”

Benedict backed up slowly from underneath the tree and carefully crawled around the left side of the tree and plugged in the lights.  The tree was suddenly ablaze with bright multi-coloured lights.  He scooted away from the tree and sat back on his heels in order to study the five foot Christmas tree appraisingly.

“Aw…that’s brilliant!  Don’t you think?  I love it when I get the lights just right!”

“You did a fine and splendid job, Ben Honey.  I hereby proclaim you the official light stringer for our future Christmas trees.”

“Does this mean you’ll be addressing me as Sir Benedict of the Fairy Lights.”

Donna giggled.  “If it pleases you.”

“It pleases me.”

“I think you’re just dying to be knighted one day.”

“I think my odds of dying first are far better,” snickered Benedict. “I haven’t done a blasted thing to warrant having a knighthood bestowed on me or any other honour for that matter.”

“Well, you can always be my knight in shining armor.”

“Oh, how my ego loves when you stroke it.”

“Hey! Hypothetically speaking – if you were to be knighted one day, what would that make me?   Would it make me anything being I’m an American?”

Benedict thought for a minute.  “Since you would be my wife; I believe you’d be allowed to use the courtesy title of Lady Cumberbatch if you fancied to.”

“Wow.  Imagine that.  Lady Donna Cumberbatch.”

“Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

Donna nodded. “Like you said – it’s all pie-in-the-sky.  I do think Mrs. Donna Cumberbatch has a nice ring to it.”

“You’re still insisting on taking my surname then.”

“Yes.”

“Even after what went on the other night?”

“Yes.  My parents have no influence on whether or not I take your last name.”

“They actually made some fairly convincing arguments for keeping your maiden name professionally.”

“Sorry to have to disappoint you all, but I’m going to become Donna Cumberbatch.”

Donna saw Benedict smile and nod approvingly at her words.

_I know deep down inside he wants me to take his name.  I just wish he’d believe me when I say I want to do it.  
_

_I do love how adamant Donna is about taking my name, bless her.  We’ll see how she fairs with it after being called ‘Cumberpatch’ or worse for a few months._

“I must say Dad and I picked out a nice full tree this year.”

Donna got up and came to stand beside him.  “I envisioned a larger tree, but I can understand why the smallish one given the low ceilings in here.”

“Once the angel tree topper goes on, it’ll be just under six feet and barely clear the ceiling.  Do you think the lights are properly interspersed?  It’s still not too late for me to move them around if you see a spot that requires more light.”

“Nope.  You did a great job with the lights, Benedict.  I thought we were going to decorate it tonight after dinner.”

“We are.  Mum likes for all of us to put on the ornaments together.  Dad and I always pick out the tree and set it up in the lounge.  Then we string on the lights, and I put my old train set around the perimeter.”

“I think your dad passed on the lights to us so I wouldn’t feel left out,” mused Donna.

Benedict ran his hands through his hair.  “I definitely got that impression as well.  He and Mum are so eager to include you in our traditions being you’re part of the family now.”

“And I love them all the more for it!”

“Are those red velvet brownies ready for tasting yet?”

“They might be.  Do you need my help anymore or can I go back and clean up the mess I made in your mother’s pretty pink kitchen while you were playing with the tree?”

Benedict kissed her.  “I’m fine, Darling.  All I have to do is wrap the tree skirt around the bucket and set up my train set.  I appreciated the extra pair of eyes though.”

Donna could see the excited twinkle in Benedict’s ice blue eyes as he dragged the box labeled ‘Ben’s trains’ over to the tree and removed the lid from the battered-looking old cardboard box.  She watched as he lovingly unwrapped each tissue-paper covered piece and placed it on the floor with nothing short of reverence. 

_He’s dying to play with it.  I think it’s time to leave him be a kid again for a while._

“You know where to find me if you need my eyes again,” said Donna, heading back into the kitchen. 

 

 

Donna spent the next hour making cream cheese frosting for her red velvet brownies and restoring Wanda’s kitchen to the pristine way she first found it.  After making a pot of Tim’s special brew of tea, she poked her head out into the lounge to find it empty.  The tree skirt was on, and an old train set in mint condition was chugging its way around the track that encircled the base of the Christmas tree.  A small army of toy soldiers lay scattered beside the track, looking as if they had done battle and all lost the war.

“Benedict?”

There was no answer.

_I guess he might have gone upstairs for a bath or nap.  The coast appears clear; so I think it’s time to treat myself to a good look around while Wanda and Tim are out and Ben’s busy elsewhere._

Donna took her time looking about the small lounge. 

_I can tell Wanda had a hand in the decorating – look at all these books, photos and knickknacks!  It’s like the cozy country cottage version of their Kensington apartment, though not quite as formal.  I remember Emily saying that his Olivia-rebound girlfriend, Anna; helped Wanda do some redecorating, which was how Benedict met her._

The long antique trestle table that was against the wall from the front door and acted as a reception table was missing as well as the two matching tapestry arm chairs that flanked it.

_That’s odd.  I wonder what happened to the table and chairs?_

Donna’s eyes were drawn to an alcove that was partially underneath the stairs and connected with the lounge on the other side.  The table had been moved in the alcove and now had eight chairs around it.  The area was a lot bigger than Donna had imagined. 

_How sweet!  It’s like having a secret dining room! Benedict must have moved the table and chairs in here.  I thought this was just a reading alcove from what I could see from the other room.  The table definitely has a leaf in it now._

“How do you fancy what passes for our faux medieval dining hall?” came Benedict’s voice from behind her.  “I personally find it cramped, but cozy – especially when the candles are lit.”

Donna turned to find her fiancé standing with an armful of boxes marked “tree decorations” in Wanda’s neat hand.

“I was wondering where you were.”

“I was up in the attic getting out these boxes and trying not to knock myself out on the low beams, whilst you were down here having yourself a snoop.”

“I wasn’t snooping,” insisted Donna, crossing her arms over her breasts.  “I was treating myself to the remainder of the cottage tour, which you promised to give me.”

“There’s not all that much more to see,” chuckled Benedict.

“I thought this was a reading alcove or nook to take a phone call in.”

“This cottage is very deceptive,” laughed Benedict, placing the boxes on the floor beside the tree.  “There are lots of nooks and crannies that Mum and Dad have turned into usable space.  I’ve always admired their ingenuity when it comes to things like that.”

“The only rooms I haven’t seen are the ones at the end of the hallway.”

Benedict beckoned her to follow him.  “As you will see, Madame, there are a total of two small rooms remaining on this tour.”

Donna followed him for a few steps until he turned a corner and came to an abrupt stop, causing her to run into him.

“I didn’t realize we didn’t have that far to go.  Sorry.”

“I told you there wasn’t much left.  Anyway, this is the mud room that leads to the outside and back garden.  As you can see, the mudroom connects with the kitchen on the other end.  This room used to be a walk-in pantry that Mum and Dad converted into our second loo; so we could have a proper shower and an extra toilet down here.”

“What a cute little bathroom,” said Donna, gazing around. 

“It must have been a pain in the ass to have to troop upstairs every time you needed to pee.”

“Ah, and now we come to the highlight of the west wing,” announced Benedict, leading the way with a sweep of his hand.

Donna began to giggle.  “The west wing?”

“Use your imagination, Sweetheart.” 

Benedict opened the last door, and stepped aside:  “Behold the peach room!”  

Donna entered the small cozy sitting room done in shades of peach with sage green and gold accents.  There was a stone fireplace flanked by floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and an old-fashioned writing desk in front of a large window that overlooked a brick terrace and the back garden beyond.  Benedict tilted his head slightly so as to clear the ceiling and entered the room after her.

“What a restful-looking room!  I love the light colors and natural light that comes in from that window.”

“The peach room has always been Mum’s sanctuary.  The view of the back garden is delightful in the spring and summer when all of Dad’s flowers are in bloom and the birds are all at the feeders.  It’s quite a riot of colour and the birdsongs are delightful.  I love sitting out on the terrace and trying to spot the different birds.”  

“I like how you guys have names for all the rooms.  Your room is the garden room, this is the peach room, the living room is the blue room.  It reminds me of our White House.  Is the kitchen named the pink room as well?”

Benedict nodded and gave her a smug smile.  “It was, but Dad and I have taken to calling it ‘A Study in Pink’ ever since I did the _Sherlock_ pilot.”

“Haha!  Very funny, Sherlock!”

“Well, it _is_ very pink,” snickered Benedict as they returned to the pink and cream kitchen.  “You can hardly argue that, Love.”

“No, I can’t,” smiled Donna.  “I love these dishes in the display hutch.”

“Those dishes are what started it all,” recalled Benedict, pouring some of the tea into two beakers that Donna had set out on the countertop.  “We had just bought the place, and we were at a boot sale in the village.  Mum came across these dishes and fell in love with them.  The kitchen décor pretty much evolved around them.”

“It’s very airy and reminds me of spring,” said Donna, tweaking a stuffed barn owl on the beak.  “All these barn owls scattered about really are a hoot – pardon the pun.”

Benedict laughed.  “Hmmm…that was a good one.  I must remember to use that on Mum one day.”

“So what are the plans for tonight?”

_Well, if everything goes to plan, you’ll be having your Feast of Seven Fishes – provided the fish monger can get everything for Mum and Tracy was able to get everything else on my list._

“Tracy, Derrick and Jennifer are coming over for dinner and tree trimming.  Mum and Dad are picking Emmy up at Swindon at the train station and bringing her back with them.”

_And hopefully, Emmy was able to stop at that Italian bakery and get the puddings for later._

Donna nodded.  “And tomorrow’s plans?”

“Tracy, Derrick and the girls will come over late morning to give Mum and Dad a hand with the cooking.  Most of the day is spent cooking and relaxing by the fire.  Christmas Eve has always been reserved for Mum’s family coming over for dinner.  What’s funny is that in the midst of all the hustle and bustle, we somehow always manage a quick trip into town for last minute shopping.  Most of the shops have open houses on Christmas Eve, and there are horse-drawn carriage rides.  Oh, and Dad reads the _Night before Christmas_ aloud every year after dinner.”

_Wow!  It sounds like I’ll be too busy Christmas Eve to miss my family.  Distraction is a good thing in this case._

“What’s on the dinner menu?”

“Mum always cooks the same meal for Christmas Eve:  Our starter is always prawn cocktail, followed by chestnut soup.  Then comes the roast turkey and stuffing with all the usual trimmings.   There’s roasted parsnips, Brussels sprouts, carrots, cauliflower cheese, potatoes, pigs in blankets…”

“Pigs in blankets?  You mean small hot dogs wrapped in pastry?”

“No.  Small sausages and prunes wrapped in bacon.”

“I see.  Sounds tasty.”

“They are.  There is also cranberry sauce and bread sauce.  Dad will make a batch of mulled wine.  Pudding will be hot mince pies and sticky toffee pudding, which Mum loves to flame.  She fancies herself Nigella Lawson.  Oh yes!  And we _always_ have Christmas crackers and silly hats to wear.”

"Grandpa Colin always brought us Christmas crackers and hats, and after his wife died, Mom would make some of his favorite English dishes to have on Christmas Day."

_Hmmm…no feast of the seven fishes for me tomorrow night,_ thought Donna.  _This will be the first time I didn’t have seafood on Christmas Eve in my life except for when I was still eating baby food._

“What does your family do on Christmas Eve, Donna?” _Besides dashing about the amusement parks like lunatics wearing Christmas-themed Disney sweatshirts and hats from sunrise to sunset and beyond._

“We always celebrated with the Feast of the Seven Fishes at Nona and Popi’s in Astoria.  There are all kinds of seafood dishes.  Then we would go to midnight mass and go back to open presents and have dessert, which is always Italian pastries, pies and cookies.  We wouldn’t get home until three or four in the morning!”

“Wait a minute. I thought your family is at Disney World yes?  Your parents flew directly to Orlando from Heathrow.”

“They are, as is Steve’s mom and dad.  I was talking about before Mom and Dad bought the timeshare. The Disney Vacation Club rooms have full kitchens; so they can go out and buy the ingredients and make the seafood feast there tomorrow night.  This year everyone is staying in the Beach Club Resort Villas near Epcot.  Christmas morning, they’ll get up early to open gifts.  Then they’ll take the bus over to the Polynesian’s Luau Cove for mass and have breakfast at the Kona Café in the Grand Ceremonial House.  Mickey’s Very Merry Christmas Parade is held during the day at the Magic Kingdom, and then they’ll have dinner at LeCellier and attend the Candlelight Processional at Epcot.  Edward James Olmos is going to be the narrator.  I’ve seen him before, and he’s wonderful!  He puts so much feeling into the narrative!”

_I suspect Donna really wishes she were there with her family instead of here with us,_ thought Benedict sadly.   _Though I suspect I’d be feeling the same if the tables were turned, and I was in the States without my family._ _I can hear the excitement and sadness in her voice when she talks about it.  A quiet Christmas in the Cotswold’s can’t compare to the hoopla at Disney World that she’s used to. I hope tonight’s surprise will partially make up for it.  
_

“What do you guys do here on Christmas Day?”

“Oh, nothing nearly as exciting as what your family does, I’m afraid. Tracy spends the day with Derrick’s family. We’ll go to church Christmas Morning with Mum and Dad.  Then we’ll come back and open presents and Mum will have a brunch.  Dad’s sister, Amber, and her boyfriend, Gian, always spend the day with us.  They come from Italy with their kids and stay at the inn in the village for the remainder of the week. The cousins always get together and go ice skating on the pond, provided it’s frozen over, which it is this year.  There’s also an outdoor concert of Christmas music on the village green with biscuits and hot chocolate.  Rather than cook dinner, we go around to the Swan Pub for supper.”

_Okay, Donna, that doesn’t sound so bad:  Ice skating and an outdoor Christmas concert. It’ll be like having dinner at the Rose and Crown Pub at Epcot!_

“Then Tracy usually hosts Boxing Day at her home.”

“Oh!  Boxing Day!  That’s a new holiday for me!”

“Yes.  It will be…I don’t want to disappoint you; but it’s just more of the same.  I hope you won’t be dreadfully bored.  We cherish the holidays as a time to have a proper catch up with both sides of the family – the Venthams and the Cumberbatches.”

“That’s a lovely sentiment, Benedict; and I won’t be bored.”

“Well, the Cotswolds certainly can’t compete with Disney World when it comes to thrills and exciting things to do.”

Donna winked at him and patted his bottom.  “Oh, I don’t know about that.  You do a great job in the thrills department. Please stop selling the country short.  From what you’ve been describing it sounds as if there will be plenty to do.  It will also afford me time to get to know your family better, which I want to do.”

Benedict smiled at her. “I’m glad you feel that way.  I realize this is the first time you’ve been away from your family at Christmas, Donna.  Blending our traditions isn’t going to be easy.”

“Our first few holidays together are going to be a learning curve for us both; but I’m sure we’ll find a happy medium that we can live with.  Getting married means we can’t be in two places at once when it comes to which side we’re going to be celebrating the holidays with.  There’s going to have to be compromises made along the way.  Sometimes we’ll be with your family for holidays and vice-versa.”

“True.  There’s another option that you haven’t considered.”

“What?”

“We begin hosting the holiday gatherings at our home and invite both sides over as soon as the house is renovated.  This way we can combine the best of each family’s traditions in our own space and make some that are unique to us.”

_I can see Mom and Dad insisting we come to New York or meet them at Disney World.  They won’t want to come to London for Christmas and leave everyone. I could see them telling me to leave Ben in London and come alone, which I won’t do.  Being with Benedict is more important to me than Disney World.  Hmmm…I never thought I’d feel that way, but I do.  His family has been so kind and accepting of me.  They are such wonderful people who have gone out of their way to make me feel part of their family – unlike mine who has done nothing but torment Benedict from the start!  
_

_I can see Mum and Dad being alright with handing over the holidays to Donna and me once we’re married.  They’ve been just wonderful about keeping out of the wedding plans unless asked.  I never thought that would happen.  I’m over the moon that they were so enthusiastic with making the feast tonight to give Donna a taste of home.  Mum and Dad never fail to show their love and support; and it makes them cherish them all the more.  I don’t think I could ever feel that way about Donna’s parents, which is a shame as I always assumed I’d get along with my in-laws.  
_

“That’s such a good idea, Ben Honey.  Let’s hope it works out like that.”

“It’s all about compromise yes?”

“That’s true; but it’s not us or your parents that I’m worried about making waves.  My parents can be a bit…rigid at times.”

_Did Donna just say a bit rigid?  Bloody hell!  My darling is in denial.  I’ve never come across such unyielding, unwilling to compromise bastards. Don’t say what you’re thinking about the wankers, Benedict.  Just turn on the mouth filter and shut up.  
_

_You just lied to Benedict, Donna.  Mom and Dad are the most rigid people I know.  It’s their way, or no way.  
_

_The funny part is that Donna’s parents can be perfectly nice when they want to be.  They were so hospitable and kind to Mum and Dad when they invited them to New York.  They couldn’t do enough to make sure they were comfortable.  I suppose they have their good and bad points like we all do; but I just wish to hell I was a witness to more of their good points._

“You know we could always go away to some exotic destination and celebrate together – just the two of us,” suggested Benedict.

Donna fixed him with a look.  “My poor honey!  You are so deluding yourself!  Neither family would be on board with that, even though it is a tempting idea.”

“Isn’t it just?  I could envision us on a sunny beach in the Seychelles or exploring the pyramids in Egypt.  How lovely that would be – just the two of us!” sighed Benedict. 

“It is a lovely idea; but I couldn’t see either side going for that.”

“No, in reality neither can I.  We’re going to have to take turns like every other married couple does that I know.”

“Unless we manage to raise a bunch of thoroughly obnoxious kids, then they’ll welcome our going away by ourselves!” chortled Donna.  “I could even see my parents suggesting that and offering to pay for the trip!”

Benedict barked out a laugh.  “Yes!  I like that!  Think of the possibilities!  We could travel the world!”

“We can’t make ourselves sick over it.”

_Oh, I don’t intend to, Donna.  We’ll alternate the holidays whenever possible.  Donna still doesn’t fully comprehend how an actor’s life can change at the drop of a hat.  One phone call offering you a plum role can fuck up your entire holiday._

“We’ll manage to work it out between us, Donna.  We’ll just alternate like everyone else does.”

“And this is my year to compromise.”

“If I didn’t have so much work lined up, we would have been in Florida.”

“Well, there’s always next year.”

“Mmmm…yes…we’ll be married next year.  Now, that is a very lovely thought.”

“It sure is.  We should think about it as embarking upon a new adventure to unchartered territory,” giggled Donna.

“Yes, and may it be a peaceful one as well.”

“So, what about the rest of the week?  What are the plans?”

_For fucks sake!  We’re not that regimented once the actual holidays are over!  Everyone just does their own thing.  I was wondering when Donna would get to the remainder of the week.  I need to tell her now._

“We have to be back in London by the twenty-eight.”

“Since when?  The original plan was to stay until New Year’s Eve and head back right after breakfast as your parents were going to close up the house and fly to Greece to spend New Year’s with their friends.”

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck. “Erm..well…Yeah. Those certainly were our _original_ plans.  At least they were until Steve Moffatt and Mark Gatiss invited the _Sherlock_ core cast to go on an outing to see the new Sherlock Holmes film with Robert Downey Junior and Jude Law on the twenty-eight.  It’s opening Christmas Day at the Odeon, so they felt it would be less crowded by then.  They also felt it would be interesting for us to compare their portrayals of Holmes and Watson against our modern day versions over lunch afterwards.”

“I thought you and I were going to see it together on New Year’s Eve with Adam and Alice?  I guess it won’t hurt to see it twice.  I love Jude Law!”

_Donna either didn’t hear me say the core Sherlock cast was invited or she chose to ignore it.  This is a business outing, we’re not going on a jolly._

Benedict hesitated as he rubbed the back of his neck again.  “Erm…yeah.  Well, unfortunately, the invitation wasn’t extended to significant others, Love.  Just the core cast has been invited so we can do an in-depth comparison and analysis.  I hope you understand.  I wish you could have come along, too.  This came up at the last minute; and being I’m the star of the show, my attendance is kind of…well…expected.”

“Oh.  I see. That’s okay.  I understand.  It’s a work thing.  Don’t worry about me. I’ll ask Maria if she wants to go see it with me; and we can have tea at Fortnum’s afterwards.”

“That’s a brilliant idea!  I’m glad that was so easily sorted and there are no hard feelings.  We can still go see Sherlock with Adam and Alice as originally planned.   Then I can watch it just for fun.”

“Seeing Jude Law twice is not a hardship for me, I assure you,” remarked Donna with a lascivious grin. 

_Too bad we weren’t going to the premiere, and I could have seen Jude live on the red carpet.  Maybe not.  He might remember me from the incident outside the Tate Modern men’s room when I ambushed him for a selfie._

“I assumed that would be the case.  I was just concerned that you’d be cross with me.”

“It’s for your job, Benedict; so you have to go.”

“I’m glad you are so understanding about these things.  I’m a right lucky chap.”

“I’m surprised that Karon didn’t try and get you tickets to the Sherlock premiere, so you could get your handsome face out there for some positive publicity – especially being your version of Sherlock will begin shooting in three weeks.”

“Oh, I could have had them if I wanted them; but we were coming here. I also know you’re not thrilled with walking the red carpet.”

_Shit!  I would have made an exception and walked the red carpet to see Jude again in the flesh!_

The sound of gravel crunching in the driveway could be heard.  “And that sound signals the return of Mum and Dad,” said Benedict, getting to his feet and unlocking the back door in order to let them inside.  “It sounds like they’re coming in this way.”

“I hear more than one car.”  Donna went to the window over the white farmhouse sink.  “Isn’t that Derrick’s car as well?”

“Hmmm…yes, it does look like it.  He must have gotten off work early.” 

“Here comes another car.  Isn’t that your Aunt Amber and her boyfriend, Gian; and your cousins?”

Benedict looked out the window.  “And so it is.  Every year they make the trip from Italy and spend the week at one of the inns in the village. I guess they came a day early. How lovely!”

“Ben, can you go to the car and give us a hand with all this food,” said Wanda, sweeping into the kitchen with two shopping bags.  She opened the refrigerator and began to unload the bag she had.  “Wait until you see these prawns!” she said to Donna.  “They’re enormous!”

_Prawns?  Maybe Wanda’s going to make shrimp cocktail._

“Can I help?” asked Donna.

The kitchen was suddenly filled with Tracy and her family.  Everyone began unpacking the bags they had brought in with them.

“Yes, you can,” said Tracy with a smile.  “You can take the lead and tell us how to cook this Feast of the Seven Fishes that I’ve been hearing so much about from my brother.”

“Ben thought it would make you feel more at home if we incorporated one of your family’s traditions into ours,” explained Wanda, looking quite pleased with herself.  “So being I only make fish and chips on tree decorating night, he suggested we simply expand the menu and turn it into a seafood feast.”

“And this family is always up to a feast!” said Emily. 

“Surprise!” exclaimed Jennifer as she and her sister unpacked two white shopping bags from Princi Bakery.  “Emmy and I went to the best Italian bakery in London to get the proper desserts.   We got strufolli, cookies, Italian cheesecake and a Pannetone - everything on your list, Uncle Ben.”

“Oh, I can make you all Pannetone French toast for breakfast tomorrow morning!” exclaimed Donna excitedly.

“We’re at your disposal, Love;” said Timothy’s sister, Amber, as she entered the kitchen and embraced Donna and Benedict.

“Where are they rest of my cousins?” asked Benedict.  “I only see Robert.”

“They took the rental car to the inn, so they could check in and do the unpacking.  They’ll be back in time for dinner.”

“I’m so glad you were able to come a day early,” Timothy said to his sister.  “What a nice surprise!”

“When Wanda called to ask me about the Feast of the Seven Fishes, I said we’d be glad to come early and help out.”

“I figured being Amber lives in Italy, she’d be familiar with the meal,” explained Wanda. “I was right, and she gave me lots of suggestions and ideas.”

Amber handed her coat to Timothy and crossed the room.  She helped herself to one of Wanda’s aprons.  “Just tell me what I can do to help.” 

“Derrick, Dad and I are no strangers around the kitchen,” said Benedict.  “We’re here to do our share.”

“I only ask that you skip the black pepper,” requested Derrick.

“Of course,” said Donna.  “I wouldn’t want you to get sick.”

“Thank you.  I’m going to have a proper catch up with Gian in the lounge. Call if you need me.”

“White pepper is fine,” Wanda whispered to Donna.  “He’s been eating it for years, but doesn’t know it.”

“Dad’s just finicky,” giggled Jennifer. “Pepper has never made him sick yet!”

“Deep down, Derrick knows he’s been ingesting white pepper all this time,” laughed Tracy.  “By the way, I had the calamari cleaned and cut into rings; and the prawns cleaned and deveined.  That will save us a lot of time.”

“Yes, all we have to do is some prep and the actual cooking,” added Wanda.  “Why spend all that time cleaning fish, when there’s a perfectly capable fish monger in the village.”

Donna beamed at Benedict and wrapped her arms around his waist as she kissed him on the lips.  “This was very sweet of you, Benedict Honey.  Thank you from the bottom on my heart.”

_Benedict Honey.  There is no higher praise.  Well done me.  I will get laid tonight. I must remember to put the motherfucking owls in the closet or turn them around._

“I wanted to somehow combine both our families’ traditions, and being you’re a self-proclaimed foodie; I thought sharing food would be a good start,” explained Benedict.

“And now we have a new tradition for tree-trimming night,” said Timothy.  “A seafood feast to look forward to.”

Donna surveyed the purchases as a menu began to take shape inside her head.  _Let’s see.  I won’t make them too crazy._  

“I think we need to keep it simple,” Donna began. “We’ll start with fritto misto.  We’ll just fry up some of the calamari, shrimp, zucchini sticks and those baby artichokes in a light, tempura-like batter.  Then we’ll have baked clams casino.  The main courses will be lobster with brown butter risotto, shrimp scampi, eggplant parmigiana and crab cakes.”

“I’ve been soaking this salt cod for two days,” said Tracy, indicating a plastic container.  “What are we doing with that?”

“You have baccala?  That’s great!  We’ll serve it in a red sauce over the fresh linguine that Wanda bought before the main dishes are served. Then we’ll round out the meal with my Nona’s crispy potato patties, which means we’ll have to make some mashed potatoes.”

“I made the mash yesterday,” said Wanda.  “It’s in the fridge.”

“Perfect. We’ll sauté the broccoli rabe with olive oil, garlic and red pepper flakes, roasted red peppers with spiced olives and pancetta-wrapped asparagus with shaved parmigiana reggiano.”

“That’s your idea of simple? Bloody hell!  It’s a damn good thing you have all these kitchen assistants,” snorted Benedict.

“It’ll be fine, Ben,” said Amber reassuringly.  “Everyone here knows her way around a kitchen - even me, who was raised in a posh household with a cook.  I spent quite a bit of time with Cook, who taught me everything I know, much to your grandmother’s disgust. Why don’t you and my brother lay the table in the meantime and heat some of Wanda’s mulled wine?”

Donna rubbed her hands together and addressed her helpers.

“Shall we begin sous chefs?”

 

*****************************************************

 

Benedict and Timothy finished laying the table in the alcove as Christmas music played in the background and the fire crackled in the fireplace.  They could hear the women talking and laughing in the kitchen as delicious smells began to waft into the lounge. 

“Something smells delightful,” remarked Timothy, as he set the candlesticks along the center of the table on the runner.  “The last time we were in the company of candles, our cover was blown in the wankers’ dining room.”

Benedict shuddered.  “I’ll never forget how humiliated I was when Neil called us out from behind that screen.”

“It wasn’t one of our prouder moments as a family,” agreed Timothy.

“Do we have everything?” Benedict asked, surveying the table. 

“Oh.  Wait.  We forgot that useless bread warming contraption that your mother loves to use whenever we have company. Heaven forbid I not set the bloody thing out.”

“Grandpa, Gran said not to forget to plug this in,” said Emily, coming to join them.  She handed the bread warmer to Timothy.  “It’s going to keep the bread warm.”

“And here it is – right on cue!” laughed Benedict. 

Emily glanced back over her shoulder.  “Do you really think this thing works as well as Gran says it does?”

“All her friends have one, and they all swear by it,” replied Timothy.  “Therefore, it works. I personally think putting hot bread in a basket and covering it with a serviette does just as good of a job; but what do I know?”

“It does have some merit,” said Benedict.

“Remind me to get you and Donna one for a wedding gift then,” giggled Emily.

“We already received one as an engagement gift from Judi Dench,” declared Benedict.  “Donna was over the moon about it, as it seems to be just as popular within her own family.  She couldn’t wait to try the blasted thing out.”

“And?” inquired Timothy with a raised eyebrow.  “Did it live up to Donna’s expectations?”

“No, but it lived up to mine,” snickered Benedict.

“I’ll be back with some bread in a minute,” said Emily as she disappeared into the kitchen.  “Aunt Amber brought it from Italy with her.”

“Gian, Robert and I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation about the usefulness of the bread warmer,” said Derrick from the lounge.  “What’s the verdict?”

“Aren’t you the proud owner of one?” asked Timothy.

Derrick nodded and laughed.  “We are, and I don’t think Tracy ever opened the box it came in.  I’m fairly certain it was also a gift from Judi when we got engaged. Tracy and I had a giggle over it; and she put it straight on the shelf with all the other useless gadgets and gizmos we’ve accumulated over the years.  The next time our church has a jumble sale, I told Tracy we need to cart all that shit over so we can be rid of it.”

“Well, actually, I’ve found a very practical use for the fucking thing,” Benedict said in a stage whisper.  “It’s brilliant for keeping damp flannels warm for post-coital cleanups.”

Derrick almost choked on his wine.  “Bloody hell! Aren’t you the cheeky one, Ben?  You need to give me fair warning when you’re going to come out with something like that!”

Timothy barked out a laugh and clapped his son on the back.  “For fucks sake!  Judi should only know what a fine and splendid use you came up with for her bread warmer. Whatever gave you such an idea?”

“Once Donna proclaimed it officially of limited use, I shoved the box underneath my bed along with all the other useless trinkets we’ve acquired.  One night after…erm…well…you know, it was my turn to get up and get us some damp flannels.  I mean…who feels like getting up right after having had the most satisfying shag?”

“No one in their right mind,” laughed Derrick.

“I kept thinking there must be a way to dampen them prior to shagging and storing them someplace to stay warm.  There’s nothing worse than cleaning up with cold, damp flannels.”

“True,” said Derrick.

“I was on my way back to bed with the flannels when one fell on the floor, and when I bent down to retrieve it – there was the box containing the bread warmer.  Suddenly, it dawned on me that I could use it to keep the flannels warm.  All I do it fill it up whenever I think we might…well…you know…and when we’re done, the flannels are waiting for us.”

“Ben, that’s actually a genius idea!”  laughed Derrick.  “Although I don’t think I can ever look at the damn thing again without associating it with shagging, thanks to you.”

“I don’t think I’d share this knowledge with your mother, Ben,” warned Timothy.  “Not that you’d do it intentionally; but you do tend to come out with things.”

“Why?  Do you _really_ think Mum would be that shocked?”

“Au contraire.  Your mother would be disappointed that she hadn’t thought of it first.  Then she’d tell you what a clever boy you are and then go tell Judi straight away.”

“Can you imagine what Dame Judi’s reaction would be if she ever found out what Ben and Donna were using her engagement gift for?” guffawed Derrick.

Timothy smiled and nodded.  “Yes, I can. She’d say: ‘what a jolly good use for the bloody thing, Ben’, and have a good giggle over it.”

 

*********************************************************

 

“I always wanted one of those bread warmers like you have,” Donna said to Wanda as she put the finishing touches on the fritto misto platter. 

“What on earth for?”  Amber interjected with a hearty laugh.  “We always had one in the house, and I found it useless.  It either wound up toasting the bread or steaming it soggy.”

“They’re better made now, Aunt Amber,” said Tracy.  “Now, they keep the bread barely warm, so you won’t risk burning yourself.  If you want hot bread, you bang out of luck.  I have better luck heating it in the oven.”

“You can have mine, Donna,” said Amber.  “I just store my pie weights inside it. I’ll mail it to you after we get back home.”

“Ben and I already received one as an engagement gift,” explained Donna.  “It didn’t live up to my high expectations.”  _So, your nephew_ _came up with a brilliant idea and now uses it to keep our post-sex washcloths warm.  
_

“Who gave it to you?” asked Amber.

“My friend, Judi,” replied Wanda, attempting to stifle a giggle.

Amber burst out laughing.  “Dame Judi Dench gave your son such a ridiculous gift?  Why, I never…”

“You forget Judi’s not much for cooking,” said Tracy. 

“Now, that’s a true statement if ever there was one,” laughed Wanda.

“I will never forget the time she baked the Victoria sponge cake and brought it over,” recounted Tracy.  “I couldn’t figure out why you didn’t serve it with the tea; so whilst you two were chatting in the lounge, I cut into it and gave Ben a slice.  We thought it was filled with custard and quite tasty.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad, Mum,” remarked Jennifer.

“I’m not done yet.  After Judi left, Mum came into the kitchen and found that Ben and I had eaten almost half the cake.  She was horrified because it was still raw in the center!  It wasn’t custard filling!”

“Oh my gosh!” said Donna.  “How did you know it wasn’t completely baked, Wanda?”

“Because the center wasn’t properly raised – the top looked as if there was a crater in the center, which Judi had filled with strawberry jam,” replied Wanda.  “Luckily, neither of them got sick.”

“Didn’t Judi ask you for suggestions about a gift, Gran?” asked Jennifer.

“That’s the idea of having a wedding registry,” replied Wanda.  “The couple selects whatever they need and then whoever wishes to give them a gift, can go online and pick from the list.  I’m sure that Judi just went online and picked something off Donna and Ben’s registry that caught her fancy, which was the bread warmer.  She knows I have one, so she probably thought it would make a splendid gift.  I seriously doubt Judi would ever make use of one herself.”

“If you ask me, I agree with Tracy. The oven does the best job at warming bread,” said Amber.

“Oh, it does,” agreed Wanda.  “However, I always feel obligated to use it whenever I have company.”

“Donna and Uncle Ben found a novel use for theirs,” giggled Emmy.  “Can I tell them, Donna?”

Jennifer covered her mouth and began to titter.  “Oh, yes!  Tell them, Emmy!” she pleaded. “You’re the one who heard Donna tell her sister.”

Donna blinked in surprise.  “Um…I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about, Jenn.”  

_Jeez Louise! Everything I say in Carldonn is subject to being overheard and repeated by Emily to her sister; who obviously is the proud owner of one of those malfunctioning genetic mouth filters.  Benedict was right._

“Yes, you do!” insisted Jennifer in a teasing tone.  “You know what I’m talking about.  Heck, there’s no need to be shy, Donna.  We’re all adults here.”

“Are we now?” Tracy challenged her youngest daughter.  “You’re not acting like one, Jennifer.  It’s not considered good form to repeat over-heard conversations.”    She looked pointedly at Emily as well when she uttered those words.

Donna felt all eyes upon her studying her inquisitively and wished a hole in the floor would have opened up and swallowed her.  She stood by the sink and wet a dishcloth in order to wipe the sticky batter off her fingers as her mind feverishly sought a response.

_The reprimand is a little late in coming, Tracy; but how would you have known Jenn was going to repeat what Emmy told her.  Thanks, Emmy!  This is something I would have expected from Heather, bless her little heart not you!  They’re all waiting for me to say something; so I guess I need to.  OH!  I’ve got an idea.  I know what to tell them!  They’ll know it’s bullshit; but maybe I can save some face._

“Yeah, Benedict came up with a very…novel use for it,” said Donna.  “We keep damp washcloths in it; so they’re nice and warm.  They come in very handy whenever we get something sticky on our hands.”

“Hahahah!” giggled Jennifer. “You are so funny, Donna!”

Emily snorted and began to sputter and cough as the soda she was drinking went up her nose.  “Bloody hell, Donna!  You’re going to kill me!”

Donna noticed Tracy regarding her with narrowed eyes. Suddenly, it looked as if she had figured it out and bit her lower lip as she went back to slicing red pepper strips.  Amber looked as if she was going to burst out laughing as she nudged Wanda in the ribs and whispered into her ear.  Wanda made eyes at her and smiled widely.

_Crap!  It didn’t take them long to figure it out.  I’m so embarrassed. Let me give it another try._

“Why just last week we used it when Jimmy Rhodes came over, and I made barbequed ribs for dinner.  We had the sticky sauce all over our hands.”

“Now, that’s what I call a genius idea,” smiled Amber, nudging Wanda.  “Hell, I was thinking of an entirely different use; but that’s because I happen to have a dirty mind!” 

“For some reason, I think Amber was right on track,” giggled Wanda, nudging her sister-in-law back.  “We just two old birds with dirty minds, bless us!”

“Tim would call us two old hens with dirty minds,” Amber giggled.  “I think some more mulled wine is in order.”

“Oh, Mum, when you and Aunt Amber get together you two are incorrigible!”  Tracy laughed.  “Donna, this is nothing.  These two are nothing but trouble whenever they get together.”

“Wanda and I have always been partners-in-crime,” clarified Amber.  “Ever since the first time my brother brought her home to meet the family.  We took to each other instantly and get on as if we were blood sisters, isn’t that so, Wanda?”

Wanda nodded and hugged her sister-in-law.  “It is so!  I don’t know what I would have done without your support in the early days of my relationship with Tim, bless you.  You were always there for me, and I love you for it!”

“You’re such a love, Wanda.  My brother found a true treasure in you.”

“I find it hard to believe you and Tim are related. You don’t seem very…”  Donna said to Amber, and then stopped herself.  _Oh, oh.  Turn on the mouth filter, Donna.  Don’t be like Mr. I-Don’t-Use-My-Mouth-Filter Benedict and say it.  They can say that word; but you can’t._

“Were you going to say posh?” Amber inquired.  “Because if you were, that’s perfectly fine with me, Love.  I was born and brought up posh for certain; however, I outgrew many of my posh ways when I met Gian; and I moved to Italy to be with him.  Tim also changed when he became an actor and took up with Wanda.”

“Tim still has that posh streak in him,” said Tracy with a fond smile.  “He’s never totally lost it.”

“My brother:  the Traditionalist,” grinned Amber.  “And your Benedict is very much an old soul like my brother, bless him.”

“I wouldn’t have him any other way,” said Donna. 

“Brilliant! Now that we’ve gotten that all sorted, shall we start the Feast of the Seven Fishes?” asked Wanda, picking up the large platter.  “I find myself with quite an appetite.”

 

 

The birdsong clock announced that it was just after Chaffinch when Benedict Cumberbatch sauntered into the kitchen to find his parents sitting alone at the kitchen table drinking coffee and chatting. 

“Did everyone go home already?” Benedict inquired, looking around.

“Everyone left as soon as Tawny Owl belted out her midnight song,” replied Timothy.   “Works like a charm every time.  There’s never any need to boot them out when you’re tired.  The clock does all the work.”

Benedict sighed as he flopped down into the chair beside his mother.  “It’s so fucking easy to lose track of time when you’re on Skype.”

“Don’t tell me Donna’s still on the phone with them,” scoffed Wanda.

“Alright then, I won’t,” retorted Benedict sullenly.

“Perhaps we should wait until tomorrow when you’re not so stropy,” offered Wanda. 

“I’m not stropy.  I’m…I’m…oh, hell I don’t know what I am!” snapped Benedict, rubbing his forehead as if he had a headache. 

“I would call it angry,” observed Timothy.  “I was just about giving up on you,” he added, stifling a yawn.

“We had to wait until it was half six in Florida,” explained Benedict, running his hands through his hair.  “It took time to wish the lot of them a Merry Christmas.  They were Skyping from Kenny’s hotel room whilst eating take-away barbequed ribs.  Apparently, Kenny and Scarlett are hosting Christmas Eve dinner tomorrow night and the women were doing some preparation for their feast of the seven fishes before heading out to a parade and fireworks display tonight.  Steve had on a hat reminiscent of a court jester, and Kenny was wearing this hat that looked as if he had a whole bloody Christmas tree perched on top his head.  Neil was wearing a Santa hat.  I swear I almost peed myself!”

“I think describing it as the Feast of Fools is more apropos,” quipped Timothy.

Benedict and Wanda both burst out laughing. 

“What’s even more apropos is that they’re at Disney World!” chortled Benedict.  “Good one, Dad.”

“I’m not getting something,” frowned Wanda.   “Would one of you care to explain?”

“The Feast of Fools is from the Hunchback of Notre Dame,” replied Timothy.

“Yes, I realize that,” said Wanda.  “But what does it have to do with Disney?”

“Disney remade the film several years back, Mum.”

“Oh, yes.  Now, I remember.  The Feast of Fools - Topsy Turvy Day and all that hoopla. That’s just brilliant, Tim!  The Feast of Fools – very clever! Hahahaha!”

“Donna told me they had a live show of it in one of the parks and Danny wanker -what’s- his- name was in it,” snarled Benedict, rolling his eyes in disgust.

“Manganero,” said Wanda and Timothy at the same time.

“Whatever,” spat a petulant Benedict.

“Did you wish them _all_ a Happy Christmas, Ben?” inquired Wanda, getting up to pour Benedict a beaker of coffee.

Benedict nodded glumly as he stirred two cubes of demerara sugar and some milk into his coffee.  “Yes, Mum.  I even wished Antonia a Happy Christmas.  Heaven forbid I forget my Harrovian manners – I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”

“You’re being rather cheeky, Son,” observed Timothy.

“No, I’m not being cheeky at all, Dad.  It was the right thing to do.”

Wanda nodded in agreement as she placed a small slice of banoffee pie in front of her son.  She kissed the top of his head.  “And you’re a credit to your teachers.  Everyone always says what beautiful manners you have.”

Benedict laughed harshly.  “Believe me, Mum. I was thinking Happy Christmas, you motherfucking cunt all the while.”

Timothy and Wanda both laughed uproariously.

“I didn’t know you made a banoffee pie,” said Benedict forking up a bite.  “Mmmm…this is just what I needed.  Mmmm…delicious.  Thank you.”

“I made it for tomorrow; but you looked as if you needed a little treat before bed.”

“How are you going to explain the missing slice then?”

“Oh, that’s an easy one,” laughed Wanda.  “I learnt a very useful trick from someone where all you do is carefully push the remaining pie together and hide where the knife cuts were made by smoothing the Chantilly cream over it.  It just looks like a slightly smaller pie.”

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck and began to laugh.  “Crikey!  I wonder who that could have been.”

“I haven’t a clue,” said Timothy, staring at his son.

“It actually works best with a ring cake,” giggled Benedict.

“So Alice Ackland tells me,” said Wanda.

“How much longer do you think Donna will be on her Skype call?” wondered Timothy.

“I told Donna I was coming down for a coffee and a snack; so I should have plenty of time to tell you about what went on at the Tate Friday night,” replied Benedict.  “Though I feel my blood pressure starting to rise just thinking about it.”

“Well, why don’t you get on with it before she comes down looking for you,” urged Timothy. 

Wanda got a slice of pie for her and Timothy.  “I have a feeling we’re going to need this.”

“You might want to add a shot or two of Kahlua to our coffees,” snickered Benedict.

“I can do that,” said Timothy, as he got up and went to his liquor cabinet.  He put a generous splash of liqueur into each beaker.  “There, I do believe we’re now properly fortified.”

Benedict Cumberbatch gave his parents an evil grin and dropped his voice into a menacing growl.

“Being we’re in a Hunchback of Notre Dame state of mind tonight…And now Clopin will tell you.  It is a tale, a tale of a man and a monster!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. The story of dinner at the Tate Modern is going to be told from Benedict's point of view in subsequent chapters. This is because I painted myself into the proverbial corner during the prior chapter. After I had wrote and proofed it, I realized that I had moved onto the Christmas in Gloucestershire chapters without writing what happened between Benedict and Toni during dinner at the Tate Modern! I decided not to go back and insert another chapter. I then decided to work it in by having Benedict tell his parents what transpired. 
> 
> 2\. When writing from one character's point of view, the other characters' thoughts wouldn't be visible to the reader; but being that's one of the things I love doing, I have gone ahead and shown some of the other characters' thoughts as well. This will begin with the next chapter. 
> 
> 3\. I did check as to whether Donna would get a title should Benedict be knighted in my story. According to: https://www.dpmc.govt.nz/honours/overview/titles-and-styles: 
> 
> Wife of a Knight (Courtesy titles)
> 
> The wife of a knight may use the courtesy title of “Lady” before her surname, provided she uses her husband’s surname. For example, the wife of Sir John Smith is: Lady Smith
> 
> 4\. Since all families (English and Italian) have so many different and similar holiday traditions; I cobbled together the ones I liked from each one. My Italian-American family only served bacala with linguine and fried flounder filets on Christmas Eve as my grandparents got older and my aunt took over - it was an abbreviated version of the Feast of the Seven Fishes. LOL! 
> 
> 5\. Again, I referred to Amber as Wanda's sister in an earlier chapter prior to my finding out she was actually Timothy's sister. I think I went back and corrected it; but if I didn't that's why the discrepancy. 
> 
> 6\. I wanted to write some more silliness based around the bread/bun warmer contraption, which I received as a bridal shower gift years ago and found useless. The one day I read a comment on a message board reviewing them from a woman who actually used hers for the same purpose my version of Benedict does. LOL! I kept in mind for a story for quite awhile and am happy to be able to use it. 
> 
> 7\. I don't know if Judi Dench can cook or not; but for the purpose of this story she can't. 
> 
> 8\. I brought back Jennifer, the second daughter that the real-life Tracy doesn't have. She'll be back over the course of the story. 
> 
> 9\. The only place I've read anything about Amber's boyfriend, Gian; was in an interview Benedict gave. He had been asked who he most admired and his response was: "Amber, my aunt, and her boyfriend, Gian Luigi Valino – he has primary lateral sclerosis and she cares for him."
> 
> 10\. The quote: "And now Clopin will tell you. It is a tale, a tale of a man and a monster!" came from the Disney movie version and the Disney World Stage Show version of The Hunchback of Notre Dame. Clopin, the gypsy king; was always my favorite character. 
> 
> 11\. I actually was working on these chapters right around Christmas and New Years; and here I am posting them in the spring! 
> 
> 12\. The Christmas GIF of Benedict came from here: https://giphy.com/gifs/benedict-cumberbatch-FwXhzmmhW3Ouc


	161. Chapter 161

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Benedict tells Wanda and Timothy the tale of his dinner at the Tate Modern with the Neil and Toni Show – Part 1.
> 
> Note: I’ll be using *************** for things happening at the same time.

 

 

Benedict Cumberbatch got to his feet and helped himself to a glass of water, which he drank down.  Then he turned to face his parents and leaned back against the sink. Benedict ran his hands through his auburn curls as he prepared to tell Wanda and Timothy what had transpired at the Tate Modern’s Restaurant to cause a rift between him and Antonia Saint James. 

“In your own good time then,” said Timothy with mock patience.  “Thankfully I don’t require as much beauty sleep as your mother does.” 

Wanda smacked her husband lightly on his upper arm.  “Bugger off, Tim!  Ben will tell us when he’s ready.”  Then she addressed Benedict. “However, you might want to hurry in case Donna decides to come down to collect you.” 

“Donna was also going to call Giada and wish her a Happy Christmas; so we still have plenty of time.”  Benedict returned to the table and sat beside Wanda again.  He folded his hands on the tabletop and moistened his lips with the tip of his tongue.  “Anyway, Donna had gone over to Barbecoa to meet with Jamie Oliver about her snarky review that’s going to run in Sunday’s Tribune.” 

“Happy Christmas to her readers!” exclaimed Timothy.  “I do so enjoy Donna’s snarky reviews.  Her positive ones are almost a letdown.” 

Wanda clapped her hands to her cheeks.  “Oh, dear!  Was Jamie very cross about it?  I mean…well…it wasn’t the best meal we’ve ever had; but Donna was far more…discriminating than we were I think.” 

“Remember, Pet, Donna is an American reviewing American-style cuisine.  It only serves him right that she would be tougher than any of the London critics.  I imagine he would have taken it with a stiff upper lip and learnt something from his kitchen’s mistakes.” 

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck.  “Erm…well…to be honest, Jamie was pissed off at first; but then he took it in stride… overall he did understand once Donna explained her reasons.  He read portions of her review aloud, and some of what she wrote was fairly brutal.” 

Timothy rubbed his hands together.  “I’m really looking forward to Sunday’s column more than ever now.  There is nothing more amusing than one of Donna’s negative reviews.” 

“And let me assure you that your future daughter-in-law outdid herself this time, bless her.  Anyway, once that business had been sorted; we approached Jamie about catering our wedding breakfast.” 

Wanda looked aghast.  “Hells bells, Benedict!  After giving his restaurant another negative review, you two had the bollocks to ask the man to cater your wedding? What was his reaction?” 

“Bloody hell! I would have told you both to go sod off,” said Timothy.  “What did he have to say?  I can’t imagine what…” 

“Hush, Tim!  Let Ben have the floor!” snapped Wanda.  “As you were then, Ben.” 

“He said we had bollocks to even ask him to cater our wedding after such a shite review."

Timothy rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"Oh, no!  What a pity!" sighed Wanda.

Benedict raised a slim hand to silence her.  "All was not lost. After some good-natured banter, Jamie agreed to do it; and we were absolutely over-the-moon with our good fortune.” 

“That’s a relief!” exclaimed Wanda. 

“It certainly is,” agreed Timothy.  “Your mother and I were concerned you and Donna might be stuck using Kenwood House’s rubbish in-house catering.” 

“When did you two experience Kenwood House’s catering?” 

“According to Judi it was when she had it,” clarified Wanda. 

“Judi’s tough on all catered meals,” snickered Benedict.  “I don’t recall a time when she’s praised any meal she’s had at a wedding breakfast.” 

“Neither do I,” laughed Wanda.  “Judi has ridiculously high standards.” 

“Christ, I do hope she enjoys what Donna and I have chosen.” 

“I don’t think you have anything to worry about, Ben. With Jamie Oliver at the kitchen’s helm, at least we know the guests will be treated to a stellar meal,” said Timothy.  “I can’t wait!” 

“It’s going to be an extraordinary wedding breakfast, Dad.  Donna and I met with Jamie and one of his business partners, Gennaro Contaldo; and they had some fabulous ideas.” 

“We’re looking forward to it then,” said Wanda with a smile.  “Did Neil and Toni know that you and Donna were meeting with Jamie?” 

“They knew she was meeting with him to discuss her snarky review, and that was the extent of it because Donna wanted to surprise them about his cooking for our wedding if all went well.  She told them to go ahead with seeing the new exhibits and we’d meet them for dinner.” 

“That must have gone over well,” quipped Timothy.  

“They weren’t thrilled; but it is what it is, Dad,” laughed Benedict.  “Besides I don’t give a toss if they were stropy or not.  Hiring a caterer for our wedding was of prime importance that afternoon, not roaming around the Tate Modern.” 

“I can just visualize Toni when she gets that pinched expression on her face as if she were constipated,” giggled Wanda. 

“Yes, I know the one; and yes, she was wearing that exact expression,” confirmed Benedict. 

“As you were, Ben,” said Timothy gently.  “It’s getting late.” 

“After we got done chatting with Jamie, it was still early enough that we decided to walk over to the Tate rather than hail a cab. Everything went downhill from there as I’m sure you are both prepared to imagine.” 

“I’m always prepared for the worst when it comes to those wankers,” sighed Timothy.  “Get on with it, Ben.  Let’s hear it.” 

“I can’t wait to hear what she did!” said Wanda as she sipped her Kahlua-spiked coffee. “I’ve been in suspense ever since you hinted that something had gone amiss.” 

“Not to mention just about everyone at your engagement party noticed that things were rather chilly between you and Toni,” added Timothy.  “All your mother’s best field agents were planted though out the Garrick Club that night.  Just what in the hell happened?” _  
_

_If Mum and Dad would just stop interrupting me, I would have been done by now!_

“Well, as I said everything couldn’t have gone better.  It was an extraordinarily clear evening…” 

 

 

Friday Evening:

 

“Do you really think that it’s a good idea to walk over to the Tate?” Donna asked Benedict worriedly as they exited One New Change Mall. 

Benedict glanced at his watch.  “Of course! We have plenty of time.  It’s such a lovely, clear evening.  I’m sure we’ll be able to see the stars as we cross the Millennium Bridge.  I can point out the constellations to you.” 

“As much as I’d love to take you up on your offer, Ben Honey; we need to be there in half an hour in order to make our reservation.” 

“We don’t _need_ to be anywhere,” scoffed Benedict, taking her hand in his as they headed towards Paternoster Square.  “If we’re a few minutes late, they’ll still hold our table.” 

“I wouldn’t be so cocky if I were you, Mr. Cumberbatch,” Donna reminded him.  “Remember the time you were late for our reservation at Le Gavroche?  They gave our table away to another couple.” 

“That was bollocks.  I was only five minutes late!” 

“It was fifteen, but some restaurants mean business when they request that you be on time.” 

“And if it weren’t for the fact that I was late, we never would have discovered that Japanese place near Covent Garden you liked so much.” 

“Wagamama?” 

Benedict nodded.  “That’s the place.  We had ramen.” 

“I would hardly put Wagamama in the same category as Le Gavroche,” snorted Donna.  “It’s like comparing apples to oranges.” 

“I wasn’t comparing the two.  I was just saying that we managed to find an acceptable place to have dinner that night without needing a booking.  We were sat at one of their communal tables and had a very enjoyable time, if I recall.” 

Donna nodded.  “It also helped that Juliette and Mark just happened to walk in right after us.” 

Benedict gave her a cheeky grin.  “See? We had a happy chance meeting and a decent meal because I was a tad late.” 

“You were just lucky that night, Benedict.  Being late doesn’t always work out like that.” 

“I beg to differ, Darling.  Do you also realize that we met because I was late for my booking at Barbecoa that night?” 

“The restaurant gods were really smiling down upon me that night,” quipped Donna, rolling her eyes at him.  “I got stuck sitting next to a rude, smart ass Englishman, wearing owl socks; who drank my water and tried to eat my food.” 

Benedict stopped walking and pulled Donna aside.  “Don’t be such a cheeky twat!  I’m being serious. That turned out to be one of the best nights of my life once we sorted everything out.  It was the night I met my soulmate and love of my life.” 

“I was only kidding you!” Donna smiled up at him and embraced him.  “I also think that was one of the best nights of my life.  Just think: It was a life-changing night for both of us.  We met our perfect match in each other.  I’m so glad I was late that night as well.” 

“I didn’t know that,” said Benedict as he took her hand in his, and they resumed their walking.  “You’re never late.  You’re always disgustingly early!” 

“Eric had just taken over the editor’s job, and we were having our first staff meeting.  He just talked and talked and talked.  Then the weather was bad, and I decided to take a cab; and we ran into traffic!” 

Benedict chuckled quietly. 

“What’s so funny?” 

“You’re being late!” 

“Actually, you never told me you were late that night either, not that I’m surprised.  I just recall your saying you were supposed to meet friends; but they couldn’t make it at the last minute.” 

“I was supposed to meet Adam and Alice for dinner at Barbecoa.  We were celebrating _Sherlock_ getting picked up by the BBC.  Unfortunately, my godson took ill that night; so they had to cancel.  I was also running dreadfully late, and they gave my table away.  Jamie would have managed to squeeze me in; but I was so hungry, I declined the offer to wait for a table.  I had been looking forward to eating there and the thought of just getting a takeaway didn’t appeal to me, so I asked if there was room at the bar; and they led me to what I now think of as _our_ communal table.” 

“That has proven to be one of your better decisions.” 

“Yes.  I wholeheartedly agree.  Erm…do you by any chance have the keys to Carldonn on you?” 

Donna nodded.  “I always have them on me, why?” 

“I have to take a wicked wee.” 

“Why didn’t you use the men’s room in Barbecoa?  Were you afraid you were going to miss something?” 

“No!” snapped Benedict.  “I didn’t have to go then.  Now, I do.” 

“Can’t you hold it until we get to the Tate?” 

“Perish the thought, _Sweetheart_.  I need to go, and I need to go _now_.” 

_He just whined at me and threw in a bonus snotty version of Sweetheart.  The man means business.  I guess a little detour won’t hurt.  Mom and Dad will just have to understand…who in the hell am I kidding?  They’ll be pissed off if we’re even a minute late…and I wonder where I get my compulsion to be on time from?  I was born with it._

“Okay, but you’re going to need to pee fast.” 

 

*****************************************************

  

Neil Saint James exited the men’s room used for patrons of the Tate Modern’s restaurant and suddenly paused to study his surroundings as a thought came to mind. 

_Hmmm…this spot looks so familiar for some reason.  OH!  I think I know why.  This looks like the background in that photo Donna has on her Facebook of her and Jude Law. Knowing my daughter she must have pounced on the poor bastard as soon as he came out and asked for a photograph.  I truly feel sorry for actors when they get ambushed like that; but it does come with the job.  
_

Neil rounded the corner and entered the bar area.  He wormed his way through the crowd to the bartender, whom he ordered two champagne cocktails from.  He watched as a tall, thin, white-blond server scurried behind the bar and handed the bartender two bottles of wine with explicit instructions that he needed to hold them for a customer who was coming in for dinner.  

_Why does that man look so familiar?  I know I’ve seen him before?  Oh, yes, that’s Frederick, Donna’s favorite waiter and part of her review team.  He’s the one Cumberbatch hates because he’s forever calling him out on his lack of wine knowledge. Oh, I do hope we get him tonight.  I love watching Cumberbatch struggle with the wine list until finally Frederick steps in and tells him what to order._

The bartender put the two bottles aside and began to prepare Neil’s drinks. 

_I wonder if Frederick is saving those bottles of wine in order to help Cumberbatch not appear as clueless as he is as a favor to my daughter.   I know the jerk had to have had help with picking out the wine for Thanksgiving.  I remember how he strutted down those aisles, so confident in his choices that he had to have had help!  I’ve always thought Donna was behind it and told him what to choose; but now I’m not so sure it was her.  She denied it vehemently when I confronted her.   However, Cumberbatch considers Frederick his nemesis, according to Donna, unless they came to an understanding of sorts. This will bear close watching tonight.  
_

“Two champagne cocktails, sir,” said the bartender, pushing the glasses across the bar towards Neil. 

Neil was pleasantly surprised by the quick service, and turned with a cocktail in each hand to scan the room for his wife.  Antonia Saint James was seated on a high chair at a long, communal table against the wall of windows, facing the Thames and Saint Paul’s Cathedral beyond.  He was pleased to see that she had draped her coat over the empty chair next to her, signifying that someone was sitting there.  Neil smiled to himself as his wife crossed her shapely legs and her skirt rode up a bit, exposing firm thigh.  

_All that exercise Toni does really pays off.  She’s still sexy as hell._

Toni tugged at the hem of her skirt demurely as she continued reading the museum brochure, seemingly oblivious of her surroundings.  Neil walked up to her and placed one of the cocktails in front of her.  He then patted her knee and leaned in to kiss her on the cheek. Neil sensed his wife momentarily tense up at his touch and pull away. 

_Seems I surprised her. Hahaha! Toni never fails to completely submerge herself in whatever it is she’s reading.  
_

A startled Toni immediately stiffened as she lifted her eyes from her reading material to her husband.  He was smiling at her with good humor in his eyes. _  
_

_Damn!  Where did he come from? I figured I had another ten minutes easy given the crowd at the bar.  
_

“That was quick, given the crowd at the bar,” she commented, sounding a tad disappointed. 

“The bartender was on his game and finding the most beautiful woman in the room was a cinch,” smiled Neil, kissing her again. 

Toni blushed and quickly recovered her composure.  “Thank you, my darling dear.  You know how I get when I’m absorbed in my reading material.” 

“Is the museum brochure _that_ interesting, Toni?” 

Toni laughed nervously. “Evidently, as I didn’t detect your presence until just now.”   She quickly removed her reading glasses and smiled at him; but Neil detected panic in her brown eyes.  

_Toni’s acting as if she’s been caught in the act._   

Neil immediately dropped his eyes to the countertop and could see immediately that it was not the museum brochure she had picked up on their way inside. 

_That’s not the museum brochure.  If I didn’t know better, I’d say my wife is reviewing that fucking pre-nup agreement that I specifically asked her not to bring.  
_

“I’d like to have a look at this fascinating brochure if you don’t mind,” said Neil, making move to take the paper. 

_Shit!   I need to distract him.  
_

“What concoction did you get us?” asked Toni, ignoring the request, and turning the papers face down on the counter top. 

“I thought an old-school champagne cocktail might be nice.  I don’t think I’ve had one in years.” 

“I don’t think I’ve ever had one,” said Toni, returning her glasses to their case. She began to shove them back inside her handbag.  “I saved your seat.” 

“I can see that.  Thank you, dear.”  Neil sat on the chair and reached out to take the papers.  “May I see the brochure?  I’d like to see what’s on display that we may have missed earlier.” 

Toni rested her elbow on the papers.  “We missed nothing.  We were able to cover all the new exhibits this afternoon.”  She picked up her glass and sniffed at the contents.  “Smells good. Is that a sugar cube at the bottom?” 

_That was a clever move with the elbow, Toni.  You think if you use it as a paper weight, I won’t be able to grab it. There’s a lot you don’t know about me, my Darling Dear!_

Neil described the drink as he waited patiently for the right moment.   “They traditionally soak the sugar cube in bitters, and put it in the bottom of the glass.  Then they add champagne and a lemon twist. Some versions have a splash of Cognac; but this version doesn’t.”  He studied the papers closely as he spoke. 

_Son of a bitch!  That definitely is not a brochure.  Those are legal papers!  
_

“What shall we drink to, Neil?” 

“How about we drink to Cumberbatch being on time for once?” 

Toni snorted.  “That falls into the category of a miracle. I think we both know the odds are slim-to-none of that happening!” 

“I beg to differ.  Donna’s with him, and she’ll prod him along.  I think the odds are fifty/fifty they’ll be on time.” 

Toni raised her glass to Neil. “How about we drink to an enjoyable family dinner?” 

_Thank you, for lifting your arm off the papers, Toni_.  

“I don’t think so.  Not if you’re really reading what I suspect you are, Toni,” snarled Neil, as he quickly slid the papers out from underneath her slightly raised elbow. 

Toni tried to snatch the papers from her husband with her other hand but failed.  “Damn it, Neil!  It’s just a little work…shit.”  She set down the glass and huffed with annoyance as she recrossed her legs and stared out the window at the Millennium Bridge. 

Neil waved the papers at her.  “This is no museum brochure, dear.  This is that frigging pre-nup I asked you to deep six.  What do you think you’re going to accomplish by bringing this along – other than a fight?” 

“I’m going to convince Benedict to sign it.” 

Neil shook his head as a bitter laugh exploded from his mouth.  “Hahaha! Like hell you are!  The only thing you’re going to accomplish is having a disagreement with your future son-in-law and possibly alienating your daughter.  I already warned you, Toni.  Cumberbatch is going to be livid and will think nothing of telling you to go fuck yourself and walk out.” 

Toni tossed back her hair and gave her husband a smirk.  “Let him.  Then we can have a nice, peaceful dinner with our daughter.” 

“What makes you so cock-sure that Donna won’t follow him?” 

Toni considered her husband’s words for a moment and shook her head defiantly.  “She wouldn’t dare!” 

“I say she would dare.  Don’t make Donna choose between you or Cumberbatch; because she’ll choose him.  Did you not heed any of what Pa and I said on the plane? You’ll be sorry, Toni.  I implore you to please think this through.” 

“I already have, and it’s imperative that Donna’s assets be protected in case there’s a separation or divorce in the future.  I won’t have Benedict taking what isn’t rightfully his.” 

Neil sighed heavily.  “Jesus Horatio Christ!  You’re a lawyer, Toni; and a very good one at that.  You know damn fucking well that you don’t have a leg to stand on as long as they’re living in London.  Not only did Pa tell you; but you agreed with him that the courts can’t enforce a pre-nuptial agreement over here.” 

“And you’re right, Neil.  However, I’m banking on the fact that Benedict is a born and bred gentleman from a decent upper middle-class family; and if things were to go sour between him and Donna; he would do the right thing and not try and take any part of her assets for himself.” 

Neil tapped the pre-nup.  “Then why all the fuss over this stupid pre-nup that means nothing here?”  

“Why all the fuss? Because if they were ever to move to the US, a signed pre-nup would be enforceable in a court of law.  Right now, I’m treating it like an insurance policy.”

“I think you’re playing with fire, Toni.” 

“So be it. Now, can I please have my papers back?” 

“No.  I’m going to keep them safe in my inner jacket pocket.” 

“This is important to me, Neil!” 

“Ah ha!  That’s the problem.  It’s important to _you_ , but it’s _not_ important to Cumberbatch or Donna.” 

“You don’t know how Benedict does or doesn’t feel about asset protection.” 

“That’s right.  The man values his privacy, Toni.  He’s not eager to discuss financial information with you.” 

Toni pushed a strand of hair out of her eyes and laughed.  “That’s because he doesn’t have to.  Benedict knows that I know everything about his financial situation, thanks to my crack team of private investigators.” 

“Aren’t two of his best friends also lawyers?”

“Yes, Dennis Bretherton is Benedict’s solicitor.  His other pal, Rob Rinder, is a barrister; but I’m sure he’s capable of advising Benedict.” 

“If Cumberbatch was concerned about protecting his meager assets, don’t you think he’d consult his friend about something like that?  Now, that’s something your crack team of snoops wouldn’t be able to find out.” 

“True,” sighed Toni.  “I wish Benedict would trust me with these things.  I would be happy to advise him and Donna on how to protect their assets in case of a separation or divorce.” 

Neil slapped his knee and laughed uproariously.  “I sure as shit wouldn’t trust you after some of the shit you’ve pulled, Counselor.” 

“Excuse me, but you never asked me to call off my investigators.  You wanted to know everything there was to know about Benedict and his family.”

  
“And now I do,” confirmed Neil. “It was important that we know all there is to know about him because neither of us could stand to see Donna hurt again.  However, I still think the pre-nup is a very bad idea. Don’t you think if Donna was concerned about protecting her assets, she would have spoken to you or kept her property solely in her name?” 

Toni said nothing, but Neil could see by the way she was clenching her jaw that she was not going to back down. 

“But what did our daughter do?” Neil continued. “She added Cumberbatch to the brownstone’s deed as part owner.” 

“That was not one of Donna’s better decisions,” sighed Toni.  “She’s always been very naïve.” 

“Well, didn’t Cumberbatch do the same with his apartment?  Donna’s been added as half-owner according to your investigators.  They’ve merged all their finances into a joint savings and checking account.  Didn’t you tell me last week, that they opened a joint safe deposit box as well? What do these actions tell you, Toni?” 

“That love is blind and our daughter is too trusting!” 

“No, Darling Dear, those actions tell me that they trust each other implicitly. Besides they are getting married; so isn't that the logical thing to do?” 

“It is after they are married with a signed pre-nup safely in place."

"Silly me. I knew the answer before I even asked that question," muttered Neil. "Why do I waste perfectly good breath?"

"I still have to try and get Benedict to sign this pre-nup.  He’s reasonable, and I think he’ll understand my motives. I also think that if anything goes wrong one day, Donna will thank me.” 

Neil considered drinking some of his cocktail, but decided to hold off.  “You might be surprised, Toni.  Crap!  I can’t believe I’m sitting here, defending Cumberbatch!” 

“Neither can I,” snapped Toni.  “You know, Benedict’s let me read some of the contracts he’s been offered, and we’ve had discussions.  I thought we were on our way to bonding.” 

“All your good deeds will go undone if you hand him that pre-nup, Toni.  Mark my words.” 

Toni said nothing for a few minutes as she considered her husband’s argument.  Finally, she sat up straight and addressed him. 

“May I please have my papers back, Neil?” 

“I don’t think so.” 

“Please, Neil.  I’ll keep them in my purse.” 

“That’s bullshit if ever I heard it, Toni.” 

“I won’t mention it right away.  We’ll eat dinner first, and then I’ll bring up the matter over coffee.” 

Neil shook his head and slammed the papers down on the table top.  

“Again, you’re playing with fire, Toni.” 

“I like fire,” said Toni raising her glass and winking at her husband. “Let’s drink to a hot time tonight.” 

 

*******************************************************

  

After a brief stop at Carldonn so Benedict could relieve himself, the couple was walking briskly across the Millennium Bridge, when Donna squeezed his hand and came to a stop. 

“Is something wrong?”  Benedict inquired. 

Donna dragged him over to the railing and pointed at the sky.  “You were right!  Look at all the stars!  The sky looks so beautiful!” 

They wrapped an arm around each other’s waists and stared up into the heavens. 

“If you look to the left, Donna, you can see the Big Dipper.”  

Donna’s eyes followed the direction Benedict was pointing in.  “YES!  I see it!” 

“And there’s Polaris – the North Star.” 

“I see that, too!” 

“The star-gazing is much better from my roof terrace. It’s such a pity we can’t grab a takeaway and a bottle of wine and sit up there wrapped up warm in one of those thermal camping blankets.” 

“As tempting as that sounds, we’ve got to have dinner with my parents first.” 

“And we agreed it made more sense to sleep over in your flat tonight.” 

“True,” said Donna taking his hand in hers.  “Let’s get going before we’re any later.” 

“We’re officially late then yes?” 

“About ten minutes late; but I know Frederick will make sure our table will be held.” 

“That’s because you’re an important food critic,” snickered Benedict.  

“No, that’s because he knows you’re always late.” 

“Well in that case,” said Benedict pulling her into his arms.  “There’s always time for a kiss as you’re always saying,” he murmured as his soft, warm lips met hers. 

“Close.  I say there’s always time for a hug,” Donna whispered as she hugged him tightly.  “I love you, Benedict.” 

“Mmmm…I love you, too…there’s always time for both.” 

The couple shared another kiss on the bridge.

"I'm so besotted with you, Donna Saint James," Benedict murmured in between kisses. "I hope that never changes."

She smiled up at him.  “That makes two of us who are besotted.” 

“Shall we go take our poison then?”  Benedict said in a teasing tone as they walked towards the end of the bridge that let them off right by the Tate’s Riverwalk entrance. 

“You’re such a wiseass.” 

“So you’re looking forward to this dinner yes?” 

“Of course!  We’ve got to bring them up-to-date on our wedding plans!  There’s so much to tell them.  I know they’re going to be so excited and happy!” 

“True.  I guess it shouldn’t be too stressful then.”  

_I’ve already looked over the menu online and consulted with Frederick about what wine to order.  At least I’ll be able to manage that with his assistance and the wankers will be no wiser!  Hahah!_

“I can’t see what they could come up with to ruin tonight, so just relax, Ben Honey.  Sometimes I think you get wired for nothing.  They aren’t always primed for an argument.” 

_For fucks sake!  They always have an agenda! My fiancée is so naive, bless her. Those cocksuckers always find something to pick on…the question is what will tonight’s aggravation center on?  
_

_*************************************************_

_  
_

“Cheers!”  said Neil and Toni Saint James as they touched glasses and took a sip of their champagne cocktails. 

“Not bad,” said Toni, puckering her lips and side-eyeing her husband.  _This is one truly revolting cocktail.  How do people drink this shit?_

_That means my wife would have preferred something else,_ thought Neil.  _But she did tell me to surprise her.  I guess Toni meant surprise me with one of my usual drinks._

“What a gorgeous night,” mused Neil, gesturing to the sky.  

“It’s so clear you can see the stars,” said Toni. 

“Too bad I have to spend it with Cumberbatch.” 

“You also get to spend it with your daughter,” Toni reminded him. 

“How late are they?” 

Toni consulted her watch.  “Almost twenty minutes.  I guess they’ll give our table away.  I wonder if the café downstairs stays open this late.” 

“They were still holding the table when I last checked.  Let me go to the podium.  I saw Donna’s favorite waiter who got promoted.  I’ll see if I can speak with him.” 

Toni sat and sipped at her drink as she watched the people crossing the Millennium Bridge.  Suddenly, her eyes caught a couple that stopped in the middle of the bridge to do some star-gazing.  

_I don’t believe it!  It’s Donna and Benedict!  They’re late, and there they are - dawdling along, looking up at the stars and stopping to steal kisses.  I swear Benedict has sprinkled my daughter with pixie dust!  Donna would never stop to play when she knew she had to be somewhere!  She’s getting to be just like him, God forbid!_

She felt Neil’s hand on her shoulder and turned her attention back to him. 

“Good news.  I spoke with Frederick; and he’ll make sure they don’t give away our table.  He even offered to seat us now and get us a starter while we wait for Donna and Cumberbatch.  What do you think?” 

“I think I’d like to sit and have an appetizer,” said Toni, getting off the chair.  “They’re busy star-gazing and smooching on the fucking bridge; so who knows how long they’re going to be.” 

Neil squinted and looked out the window.  “You can see them from here?” 

Toni pointed towards the bridge.  “Look on the left, just past the center span on the downhill side coming towards this direction.” 

“There are so many people star gazing on the bridge!  I can’t see them!” 

“Donna’s wearing her pumpkin-colored coat and is now kissing Benedict – you can see them standing underneath the lighting.  He’s wearing all black and looks like he’s going to Antarctica…look, he’s even wearing one of his  ridiculous hats.  I don’t understand that fatal fascination with hats.  Now, Danny Manganero can wear any kind of hat and looks good.  When Benedict wears a hat, I want to scream with laughter.” 

“That’s because the jerk never buys a hat that fits his big head.  Yeah, I see them.  They’re acting as if they have all the time in the world.  I vote for sitting down as well.” 

 

*************************************************

 

The lift door slid open at the sixth floor to reveal the Tate Modern Restaurant.  The reception area was packed with people standing shoulder-to-shoulder as they waited to be shown to their tables, and the overflow appeared to be in the bar area. 

“It sure is crowded,” observed Donna as she and Benedict started to slowly make their way to the bar.  “It’s a good thing I’m not claustrophobic.” 

“Friday night is very popular for dining out.  It’s a time to wind down and celebrate the end of a work week,” added Benedict. 

“Donna!  Benedict!  Wait!” 

Benedict and Donna turned to see Frederick rushing towards them.  

“I’m sorry we’re late,” said Donna as the tall server caught up to them. 

“We were just going to collect her parents in the bar,” explained Benedict as Frederick stood beside him.  “Before they have a fit,” he added. 

“It’s just that my parents get very impatient when they have to wait,” added Donna, craning her neck towards the bar area.  

“You can both relax.  It’s all fine,” said Frederick, patting their shoulders reassuringly.  “I’ve already seen to it that they’re sat at the table, and I  brought them a gratis starter to tide them over.  Your father kept checking with the podium as he was concerned that we’d give your table to another party.” 

“I hope he didn’t bother the hostess too often,” said Donna fearfully.  “My mother probably kept sending him over to check.  They’re anal like that.” 

Frederick nodded.  “They weren’t happy about sitting at your usual corner table when the hostess escorted them to it.” 

“Christ,” muttered Benedict.  

“Which one of them made a stink?” inquired Donna. 

“Your mum said she preferred to sit at one of the center window tables…” 

“Which is a horrible mistake unless they fancy being pestered by tourists throughout the meal,” finished Benedict.  _Hmm…that would be worth seeing even if it means that I’d have to suffer as well._

“As you both already know from first-hand experience,” agreed Frederick with a slight smile.  “When I saw what was going on, I immediately went over and explained that even though those tables appear to be the most desirable in the house, in reality they are the worst ones for the reasons you just stated, Benedict.” 

“Of course they didn’t believe you,” sighed Donna heavily. 

Frederick nodded.  “They made it plain that they were not to be sat at an inferior table and insisted Mary place them on one of those center tables; so she did.” 

Benedict smiled knowingly at the server.  “So, how long did they last there before asking to switch tables?” 

Frederick returned the smile.  “I actually should commend them for their fortitude.  They stuck it out through four photo requests and one video before demanding to be sat at a corner table.  Your mum actually seemed to rather enjoy directing the video and added some commentary for the couple.” 

“Well done them,” snickered Benedict.  “They were better sports about it than I was.” 

“Jeez Louise!  I am so very, very sorry that this happened, Frederick,” began a mortified Donna.  “I must apologize to Mary.  She’s such a sweet girl and didn’t deserve that.” 

“No worries, Donna. It’s all been sorted.  They’re sitting at your corner table, which is my station for this evening.  They’re enjoying a complimentary starter of duck liver on toast with whiskey cream sauce along with their drinks. I remembered to have the sauce put in a ramekin on the side as that is normally your mum’s preference.” 

“It’s the law,” snorted Benedict. 

“Thank you so much for remembering that!” said Donna.  “She definitely would have sent it back had it come dressed with the sauce.” 

Frederick led Benedict and Donna to their table.  After exchanging greetings with Donna’s parents,  Benedict took the seat facing the dining room as had Neil, whilst Donna sat beside her mother facing the window. 

“Can I bring you two something from the bar?” inquired Frederick. 

Donna inspected her mother’s nearly full glass.  “What are you guys drinking?” 

“One of us is drinking an old school champagne cocktail,” replied Neil with a smirk.  “The other one is pretending to so as not to hurt my feelings.” 

“I take it the drink is not to your liking, Mrs. Saint James?” asked Frederick. 

“It’s not what I expected,” replied Toni. 

_That’s Toni-speak for Mom hates it_ , thought Donna.  

_I’m surprised Antonia hasn’t sent it back yet_ , thought Benedict.  _That would have been her cue._

“May I get you something else?”  Frederick offered. 

“No.  It’s too late for another drink.  Had you offered to exchange it sooner, than I would have; but being we’re most likely going to have wine with dinner, I’ll just forego it.” 

Neil side-eyed Benedict as he ate another duck liver toast.  _You bet we’re going to have wine, Toni. I wouldn’t miss this opportunity to watch Cumberbatch squirm for anything in the world.  Especially when I call him out on his little game – provided those bottles of wine really are being held for him.  
_

_Neil thinks I didn’t see him watching me.  He’s so looking forward to seeing me put on the spot with choosing the wine.  I can’t wait to surprise him!_

Frederick stared at Donna who rolled her eyes.  He began to reach down to remove the drink when Donna raised her hand in order to stop him. “Let me try it, Mom.”  

“It’s God awful.  It tastes very…medicinal,” whispered Toni, pushing the glass towards her daughter. 

“I’ll take my chances, Mom.” 

“You’ll be sorry.” 

Donna took a tiny sip and grimaced.  “Ugh!  You were right, Mom. Medicinal is kind.  This drink is not for me.” 

“Allow me to take it off your hands then,” offered Benedict, picking up the glass and taking a healthy swallow.   He smiled and smacked his lips in satisfaction.  “Oh, this is lovely.” 

“See, some of us can appreciate drinks that don’t taste like fruit punch,” teased Neil.  

“I’ll have a Captain Morgan Spiced Rum and Diet Coke,” Donna said to Frederick, who visibly shuddered. 

“Make that two,” added Toni.  “I haven’t had one of those in a long time.” 

Frederick shuddered once again and sighed heavily as if he were displeased. 

“Something wrong?” asked Donna with a raised eyebrow. 

“Diet Coke should never be used as a mixer in a cocktail,” admonished Frederick.  “It spoils the taste of the liquor in my opinion.” 

Donna and Toni exchanged glances.  Toni shrugged.  “I guess I can make an exception.” 

“Okay.  Regular it is,” gave in Donna. 

“He done told you,” giggled Benedict once Frederick was out of earshot. “Now, I don’t feel so bad about him dressing me down.  It’s nice to know that you’re not beyond reproach as far as he’s concerned.” 

“Hmmm…does he _still_ give you a hard time?” asked Neil as he perused the menu.  “I thought he was acting as your Guardian Sommelier all this time.” 

_Ah ha!  That explains why Benedict has suddenly turned into such a wine connoisseur.  He has been getting recommendations from Frederick,_ thought Donna with amusement.   _Why didn’t I see that and Daddy did_?  

Benedict kept his eyes focused on the menu as he sipped his drink.  _Fuck me!  The cocksucker figured it out.  Damn._  “When did you have your epiphany, Neil?” 

“To be honest, it didn’t dawn on me until I was reading the wine list at the bar, and Frederick approached the bartender about keeping two bottles of wine for him as he didn’t know which one his customer would be wanting later on.  It was one white and one red.” 

_Jolly good, Frederick.  I’m busted as Donna would say.  It’s going to be a long night._

Donna glared at her father.  “For God’s sake, Dad!  What makes you think that Benedict and Frederick are involved in such an elaborate scheme to deceive you?” 

_Because we are,_ Benedict chuckled to himself.  _Neil is many things; but stupid is not one of them.  He’s quite an observant and clever chap or as Dad is fond of saying:  He’s an admirable foe._

“Do you really think that Benedict and Frederick have nothing else better to do than to deceive you?”  Demanded Donna. 

Benedict flashed a smug smile at Neil.  _Jolly good, Donna.   Thank you for defending me even if I’m guilty as fuck._

“Oh, come on, Muffin!  What about the Thanksgiving wine?  Those pairings were perfect.  A sommelier would choose wines like those.” 

Donna glanced at Benedict and frowned.   _That explains why Benedict was in my cellphone contact directory in New York.  He was looking for Frederick’s number._   

“Oh, Daddy!” exclaimed Donna with a dismissive wave of her hand.  “Benedict was in New York and Frederick was in London!” 

“And?” asked Neil, letting the question hang in the air.  

Neil and Benedict stared at each other.  Finally, Benedict shrugged.  

_Those wines were perfect because my honey had help from a former sommelier, and his name is Frederick.  
_

_I suppose I’ll have to confess my dirty little secret,_ thought Benedict as he tried to suppress a bitter laugh. _I’ll never hear the fucking end of it either…till death us do part.  Oh well, it was fun whilst it lasted._

“I think I’ve heard enough about this ridiculous wine conspiracy of yours, Neil.  Please stop baiting, Benedict!”  requested Toni.  

“I’m not baiting anyone,” insisted Neil. 

Toni gave Neil a disapproving glare and turned to Benedict.  “You’ll have to forgive, Neil.  He loves to jump to conclusions.” 

Benedict glanced at Neil from under his eye lashes.  “Oh, that’s quite alright.”  _Jump away you wanker.  I’m ready for you._

“No, it’s not,” insisted Toni. “I’ve noticed that you do a lot of research whenever you take on a new role and want to master something unfamiliar to you.” 

“It’s paramount that an actor does his research,” confirmed Benedict.  “I always strive to find out as much as I can about a character.  As a matter of fact, I’ll be taking violin lessons for _Sherlock,_ as I have to appear to be playing the violin convincingly in the episodes.” 

“Oh, please, spare me…” Began Neil in disgust. 

“You see, Benedict, I think you’ve been doing some reading about wines because you wish to understand and be able to choose them with confidence,” continued Toni.  

Benedict looked momentarily startled.  _OH!  This is my lucky day!  Antonia’s giving me an out! That’ll work.  Brilliant!  There’s no need to confess about the arrangement I have with Frederick.  My ego has been spared!_

Benedict blushed.  “As a matter of fact, I _have_ been reading up on how to choose a proper wine.  Thank you for noticing, Antonia.”  He gave Donna and Neil a smug smile.  

Neil barked out a laugh.  “That’s such a crock of crap, Ben!”  

“It isn’t,” replied Benedict defiantly.  “I have been reading up on wines.” 

“Then I’m sure you won’t mind showing off your new found knowledge for us tonight,” said Neil. 

Donna noticed an expression of sheer panic wash over Benedict’s face momentarily.  She reached out and patted his forearm.  

“You know many times we order individual glasses of wine, Dad,” she pointed out.   

_And tonight would be a great night for that,_ thought Benedict.  _Though Frederick texted me the two wines he’s holding.  
_

Benedict cleared his throat.  “I’d be delighted to choose the wine.  As a matter of fact, I had two in mind.” 

_Ah ha!  I’ve got you now, Cumberbatch!_   Thought Neil with glee _.  Just as I suspected!_

“I bet they’re the same ones Frederick is having stored up at the bar for a customer,” said Neil, looking Benedict straight in the eye. 

_He’s such a smug and clever dick,_ thought Benedict. _I wonder if he saw the labels. I’m so glad Frederick thought to text me the names of the wine, bless him.  
_

“I bet you’re wrong, Neil,” said Benedict, picking up the wine list with feigned confidence and scanning it quickly for the two names.  “As a matter of fact, I’ll pick out a white and a red now.  Recently, I’ve been studying French wines and fancy myself a bit of an expert.” 

“I know bullshit when I hear it,” growled Neil in a low voice. “And I’m hearing a whole barnyard full.” 

_I’m going to choose to ignore that because I don’t fancy having a row with him in public.  I found the two wines; so I’m ready.  
_

Frederick approached the table with Toni and Donna’s drinks.  “Are we ready to order?” 

“Yeah, I think we are,” replied Benedict.  

Benedict sat and awaited his moment to shine as the others placed their orders.  Finally, Frederick took Benedict’s order and smiled at him as he uttered the words that still never failed to fill the pit of his stomach with dread: 

“Would anyone care for some wine with dinner?” 

Benedict could hear Neil’s voice inside his head even before he spoke.  _I’ll have whatever Ben’s having._

“I’ll have some,” replied Donna.  “How about you, Mom?  Then we can share a bottle.” 

Toni nodded.  “That’s fine with me. Anything has to be better than that champagne cocktail.” 

Neil smiled condescendingly at Benedict.  “I’d love some; but I’ll let Ben choose being he’s more familiar with the wine list here than I am.” 

_Just what I expected he’d say.  Okay.  Here goes nothing!  
_

“Alright then,” began Benedict.  _Hmmm…Neil, Antonia and Donna all ordered fish.  I’m having the pork.  White it is then – the Riesling 2004.  That was easy. The wine gods smile down upon me.  
_

“We just got in the most marvelous…” began Frederick.  

Benedict felt the server’s knee hit the back of his chair. _Hells bells!  Is that some kind of code or an accident? It must have been an accident.  I’m so nervous that I’m over-thinking everything.  
_

“We’ll have a bottle of the Riesling 2004,” Benedict said to Frederick with all the self-confidence he could muster.  _Christ!  I just noticed that wine is seventy-five fucking pounds.  Frederick’s taste is too good.  Doesn’t the wanker realize I’m just a drippy actor with a limited budget?_

Frederick seemingly blanched at Benedict’s words, and he cleared his throat as his knee hit Benedict’s chair once again.  “I’m afraid the barkeep just sold our last bottle.  May I suggest something else?” 

Benedict felt his stomach heave at the server’s words.   _For fucks sake!  It was a warning. How in the hell did they manage to cock that up?  Damn barkeep wasn’t paying attention I suppose.  I need to save face here...what to do now?  
_

“We have a new wine list that we’re launching at tomorrow night’s dinner service; but let me get it for you,” said Frederick hesitantly.  

“Yes, please do,” replied Benedict through gritted teeth.   _Maybe he’ll mark it up so I know what to order._

“I hope this isn’t going to hold up our meals,” sighed Toni.  “Why does choosing a wine have to be so damn time consuming?  I’m not all that fussy.  Can we please just get it over with quickly?” 

“I’ll take care of it, dear,” said Neil.  

Frederick returned with the new wine list and set it on the table in front of Benedict.  Neil immediately reached over and picked it up. 

_What is the right bastard up to?_ Thought Benedict.  _Oh, God, what if Frederick really did mark it up so I know what to order? I’m fucked!_

Neil displayed the list so he and Donna could peruse it together. 

“Wow, you guys have expanded your wine list since I was last here,” Donna said to Frederick as she glanced at the selection.  

_More choices are never good in these sorts of circumstances,_ thought Benedict sadly. 

“Management found that our customers were ordering more wine than mixed drinks…” 

_And I could use a whiskey right now,_ thought Benedict. 

“…so we curtailed our cocktail menu and stocked more wines.  Our sommelier was able to source some brilliant offerings from vineyards in Australia, New Zealand and South Africa in addition to some new ones from California and Spain.” 

Benedict stared at what appeared to be a booklet.  _What fresh hell is this?  That’s not a list, that’s a bloody book! Were they not happy with the two pages they used to have?  
_

“There are some very nice ones here,” remarked Donna. “This is much more impressive than the other list.” 

_Now, there are more chances for me to cock it up,_ thought Benedict. 

“I rather liked the old list,” said Benedict in a small voice.  _What page are they on?  I need to see._ Benedict leaned over and saw that they had been on Page Eight.   _Damn it!  Those are rose wines.  I need white!  
_

“Oh, yes,” agreed Frederick.  “Shall I recommend something else, Benedict?” 

“You might as well,” said Neil.  “Or let Donna pick something.” 

“But Benedict…” began Donna hesitantly, looking to Benedict for his reaction. 

“I don’t care who picks it out, let’s just get it over with,” sighed Toni, as she sipped her Rum and Coke.  “Can we please get some bread and butter?” 

“Yes, Madame,” said Frederick.  “Right away.” 

“Wait.  Do we have to pay for it?” 

“This is London, Mom,” hissed Donna.  “Free bread baskets are rare.” 

“No thank you,” said Toni.  “Bread is so cheap.  That’s just ridiculous – it’s just another way for restaurant to exploit patrons.  I refuse to pay for something that should be complimentary.” 

“Please bring an order of the bread for the table,” said Benedict. 

“And don’t forget the butter,” added Toni.  “Salted butter, not the unsalted kind.” 

“We only serve unsalted butter, topped with smoked Himalayan sea salt sprinkled over the top,” explained Frederick.  

“We’ll also have some butter please,” said Benedict.  “With some extra salt on the side.” 

“Not if we have to pay for it,” said Toni. 

“The salt is gratis, Mrs. Saint James,” Frederick assured her. 

“Good.  Thank you, Frederick,” smiled Toni. "Tell your manager that the butter should be as well."

“Do you need some more time with the wine list?” inquired Frederick. “I’d be more than happy to make some recommendations.” 

_Fuck me!  Here we go again!  I’m right back at square one!  This is supposed to be my night to impress my future in-laws and put an end to this wine torment._

Toni rolled her eyes.  “I hate when we have to choose a wine – it’s always such a production?  I’m hungry.” 

_Fine.  Let one of them pick it out.  I’m done with this bullshit,_ thought Benedict with disgust. _  
_

“I’m with Toni,” laughed Neil as he side eyed Benedict.  “I’ll pick out something for us.  Now, let’s see…” 

Benedict felt himself clench his jaw.   _Why am I getting so angry?  Who gives a toss if he selects the wine or not. I do.  I want to show off my newly acquired knowledge.  
_

Neil adjusted his reading glasses as Donna peered over his shoulder.  He looked up at Benedict and flashed another smug smile at him. 

_Look at that right bastard’s face, he’s enjoying this.  Neil expects me to let him take over now.  I won’t allow him to emasculate me like that.  I can do this.  I’ll just follow the pointers Frederick gave me._

Benedict held out his hand for the wine list.  “No worries, Neil.  I’ll find us something that will please everyone’s palates.”  

Neil made no move to relinquish the list.  

Donna looked from Benedict to her father.  _Jesus Christ!  My fiancé and father are going to have a stand-off over who is going to choose the fucking wine.  I can’t believe this! Benedict is clenching his jaw, which is never a good sign.  
_

“I’ve got it under control, Ben,” said Neil, returning to where he was.  “I think this one, Muffin…” 

“Neil, being I’m hosting this dinner; and therefore paying; I’ll select the wine,” declared Benedict brusquely.  “May I please see the wine list?” 

“I already picked one out,” insisted Neil.  “Frederick, we’ll…” 

“For fucks sake!”  Benedict reached over and grabbed the list from the older man.  “Give me that damn list!” 

Benedict felt all eyes in the dining room on him as he opened the list.  Donna looked horrified and his future in-laws were rendered momentarily speechless at his behaviour. 

_That was not one of my finer moments.  Well done, me.  I’ve seemed to have left my Harrovian manners back in the lift.  Mum and Dad would be appalled…though given the circumstances, maybe not.  At least Donna’s not going to butt in. She’s learnt to let me and her Dad sort these things out between us.  
_

“Please allow me to do this, Neil.” 

Neil laughed.  “Knock yourself out, Ben.  We’ve got all night while you figure it out.” 

Benedict turned his attention to the wine list.   _Okay…Here are the whites.  Frederick said you can never go wrong with a French wine, so French it is.   He said most people prefer dry whites as opposed to fruity.  I think I recall Antonia saying she detests sweet wines, so dry it is. There was something else about the finish…was it crisp?  Yes, I recall Frederick saying something about crisp. I don’t think I have to be concerned about the soil the bloody grapes were grown in…as long as it was in France. Oh!  Wait, Olivia and I toured that vineyard during our wine holiday. Everything we sampled was delicious.  Now, I can’t spend a fortune on it.  I remember Frederick saying to stick with middle-of-the-road prices.  Blimey!  I think I’ve found one. Christ, that sounded like one of Sherlock’s deductions in my head.  
_

“Which ones are you considering, Benedict?” Donna asked as she leaned in to see what he was looking at; but Benedict held it up towards Frederick to take. 

“We’ll have the 2004 Sauvignon Blanc from the Domaine Grosbois Vineyard in the Loire Valley.” 

Frederick beamed at Benedict.  “That’s an excellent choice, Sir.  I would have recommended that one.  It’s a personal favourite.” 

“That’s the one I was going to order before you grabbed the wine list out of my hands,” pointed out Neil with a sneer.  

Donna laughed nervously.  “Production averted anyway.” 

“For the meantime,” said Benedict under his breath. 

“We have so much to tell you both about our wedding plans!” gushed Donna, steering the subject to the wedding.  “Don’t we, Benedict?” 

Benedict nodded.  “We’ve made quite a bit of progress.  I think all the major pieces of the puzzle are in place now yes?” 

“There is just one thing of importance that we wanted to discuss with you both over dinner,” said an uneasy Donna.  

“Isn’t that a coincidence?  I also have a matter of importance to discuss; but it can wait until coffee,” smiled Toni. 

Donna Saint James and Benedict Cumberbatch exchanged worried looks as they caught the glare Neil Saint James shot his wife as she uttered those words.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Even though this chapter is supposed to be told from Benedict's point of view, I decided to show what the other characters were up to as well and what they were thinking. 
> 
> 2\. I've eaten at the Wagamama in Covent Garden and enjoyed it immensely.
> 
> 3\. My knowledge of British law is non-existent; so most of the pre-nup information comes from a little bit of research with a good dose of fiction added to fit the story line.
> 
> 4\. My daughter and I did the walk across the Millenium Bridge to the Tate Modern, and it is a spectacular view - day or night! 
> 
> 5\. Happy Mother's Day to all those who celebrate tomorrow.
> 
> 6\. Here's hoping that Benedict wins the BAFTA tomorrow night!


	162. Chapter 162

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Benedict continues his tale of dinner at the Tate Modern – Part 2. Tensions build between Benedict and Donna’s parents. 
> 
> Note: I’ll be using *************** for things happening at the same time.

 

Wanda Ventham stood at the countertop plating additional slices of the banoffee pie whilst her son continued recanting his story.

“So Donna said:  There is just one thing of importance that we wanted to discuss with you both over dinner,” said Benedict, doing an impression of his fiancée.

“I bet their radar went up when she said that,” declared Timothy with a smirk. “They’re not used to Donna taking the initiative like that.”

“Not really,” said Benedict, pausing to sip coffee from his beaker.  “Apparently, it didn’t register as a matter of prime importance because Antonia just smiled sweetly and said:  Isn’t that a coincidence?  I also have a matter of importance to discuss; but it can wait until coffee.”

“Hells bells, Ben! You sounded just like her,” snorted Wanda, setting a plate on the table at his place. 

Benedict took a bow and laughed.  “Thank you, thank you. I do love to mimic people.”

“Well, you’ve got Toni Saint James down pat,” Timothy assured him, as Wanda in turn placed more pie in front of him.  “Are you sure you want us to eat all this pie, Love?  There won’t be any left for tomorrow.”

“This is a situation that calls for a comforting slice of banoffee pie or two in this case,” declared Wanda.  “I can always whip up another one tomorrow if needed.  Come and sit, Ben. How very odd that you didn’t get more of a reaction from Toni. I thought she would have climbed all over Donna to find out what the topic was.”

“That’s because Toni must have had her own agenda, which she was more concerned with than whatever Donna had to say,” remarked Timothy. 

“How right you are, Dad.  Ours was nothing compared to hers,” Benedict assured him with a grim smile. 

“By the way, Ben, you never did say what Neil’s reaction was to your choice of wine,” Timothy pointed out. 

“Oh, he was forced to admit that I had managed to pick an excellent vintage,” laughed Benedict.

“That must have killed him to have to concede to you,” said Timothy. “Well done, Son.”

“I was right proud of myself for being able to sort it out myself.  Frederick said he considers me to have graduated with honours from his wine class, and I should never second guess my judgement again.  So, I won’t.”

“Don’t become too cocky,” warned Wanda.  “Especially, when you’re dining with those bastards.”

“Not to worry, Mum.  I have no intention of letting this one success go to my head.  I shall forever err on the side of caution whenever they’re about.”

Timothy looked up at the bird clock.  “How about we go straight to the heart of the matter, Ben,” he suggested.  “It’s getting late.”

“Point made, Dad.  Well, Donna shared all of our wedding plans with them over dinner before trying to drop the proverbial bomb.  It’s a pity you two weren’t there.”

“I have a sick feeling it was providence that we weren’t there,” quipped Timothy.  “I might not have been able to trust that I’d remain a gentleman at all times.”

“They have proven to be quite the challenge,” said Benedict.  “So, getting back to what I was saying…”

 

 

Friday Night:

“How’s your pork chop?” Donna asked Benedict as she ate her pan-fried plaice with burnt lemon butter and capers. 

“It’s been brined; so it’s nice and juicy.  Fancy a taste?”

“You know me well,” giggled Donna as he cut her a bite-sized piece. “Don’t forget the caramelized apples.”

“Perish the thought!  The caramelized apples are a splendid accompaniment,” said Benedict as he held out his fork so Donna could easily reach it.  “They add a nice touch of sweetness yes?”

_Hahaha!  I remember there was a time when she was shy about eating off my fork, but she’s since gotten over it.  You can hardly suck someone’s dick and then shy away from eating off his fork._

Donna chewed and swallowed.  “That is yummy. Thank you.”

“You two shouldn’t be sharing food like that,” warned Toni.  “The flu is going around.”

“We’re not worried. We had our flu shots,” Donna assured her. 

 _One of us hasn’t_ , thought Benedict as a frown momentarily crossed his face.  _And that one of us is worried._

“That’s good,” said Toni with relief.  “I was reading that they ran out of flu vaccine here.  It’s supposed to be a very active flu season.”

 _Mark was so angry that I waited too long to ask him for one.  He’s not expecting to get in any more of the vaccine either.  I’d better make sure I take extra good care of myself,_ thought Benedict.

“Care for as taste of the panzanella salad as well, Darling?” asked Benedict, changing the subject.

“I hate to disappoint you, Honey; but that’s wilted spinach salad with soggy croutons!  I can see from here that they overdressed the salad.”

“Well, it tastes fine to me,” retorted Benedict.  “I think the ginger dressing is just lovely.”

“I’m glad I got my sauce on the side, Muffin.  It tastes a little burnt,” commented Toni, looking at Donna’s plate with a frown.

“That’s because it’s burnt lemon butter caper sauce, Mom.  The chef would be pleased that he accomplished what he set out to do.”

Toni looked doubtful.  “My fish is delicious with just a squeeze of fresh lemon.”

“It’s quite tasty.  Why don’t you try some, Dad?”

“No thanks.  I’ll pass,” replied Neil, raising a hand. “I’m not a huge fan of capers.  I find them too salty.”

“Capers aren’t to everyone’s taste,” added Benedict.  “I’m rather fond of them. I enjoy their briny, salty flavour.”

“I don’t think I’ve come across one thing that you aren’t fond of, Ben,” declared Neil.  “I suppose you’ll make a good role model for your children.  Between you and Donna I wouldn’t expect them to be picky eaters.”

“That’s the first positive thing you’ve said about me all evening,” muttered Benedict under his breath.   

“I’m looking forward to seeing the church and Kenwood House again on Monday,” said Neil.

“Have you been?” inquired Benedict.

Neil finished his sea bass.  “No, I haven’t seen the church, but I’ve been to Kenwood House. The last time was when I was a student living here with Rod’s family. Parts of it looked as if it could stand some renovating back then.”

“You’re in for a treat then,” Benedict assured him.  “They did a brilliant job with the restoration.  I had seen it prior to the work, and they have restored Kenwood House to its former glory.”  

“I can’t wait to see it in person.  Kenwood House looks very elegant, and the rooms you chose sound perfect!” said Toni, clearly impressed.

“The few photos I sent don’t do it justice,” said Donna.  “It feels like you’re in this stately old home.”

“We preferred the atmosphere to that of one of those glitzy hotel ball rooms,” added Benedict.  “It has a more intimate feel.”

“I think a silver and white color scheme will be gorgeous, and I love the idea of the fireplaces filled with different height candles!” continued Toni, warming to the topic. “I think you’re right about roaring fires making the rooms too hot; but I’d like to see the actual sizes for myself.  Then we can decide.”

_What the fuck is this shit?  That's for Donna and me to sort out between ourselves as to whether we fancy candles or a fire._

"Muffin and I are leaning towards using the candles," said Benedict.  "If that should change, we'll keep you informed."

“I can’t wait to show you and Dad all the beautiful artwork,” said Donna, quickly moving on before her mother could respond.  “They uncovered this hand-painted mural on one of the walls in the room we’re using for the cocktail hour.  It’s a National Treasure from what the wedding planner told us.”

“We were over the moon the minute we walked into those rooms!” added Benedict.  “We knew it was the perfect venue for our wedding breakfast.”

“Hiring Jamie Oliver to do the catering, not to mention Giada offering to bake your wedding cake will knock your guests socks off!” gushed Toni.  “No one has two celebrity chefs cooking at their wedding – that was quite a coup!  Your guests will be talking about it for years to come!”

“It will no doubt be a wedding with memorable food,” added Neil.  “By the way, you are having the bills forwarded to me, right?”

Benedict nodded.  “Yes, we are, along with copies of any contracts we signed.  You are receiving them, yes?”

“Yes, we got everything; and I appreciate that you’re emailing me the contracts; so far everything has been in order,” replied Toni. “I detest all those hidden clauses that caters are fond of sticking into their contracts so they can fleece their clients.”

“Jamie is a mate of mine, so he’s not going to take advantage of us,” retorted Benedict.  “Donna and I found that his quote was more than fair.”

“It was definitely discounted,” said Donna.  “I checked around before we even approached him to see what he charged to cater a wedding.”

Neil refilled his wine glass.  “I was expecting more bills than what I’ve already received to be honest.  I hope you’re not holding back or paying for things yourselves because you’re afraid of spending too much money.”

“We’re spending within reason, Daddy. Benedict and I are constantly reviewing all the expenses each time I populate our expenses spreadsheet.”

“We won’t have your generosity taken advantage of, Neil,” said Benedict.  “It wouldn’t be right to order things just for the sake of showing how extravagant and lavish we can be.”

“There’s no need for us to go overboard,” added Donna.  “Our wedding is going to be very elegant.”

“Even though you said money is no object; Donna and I came up with a budget to use as framework.”

“Benedict and I felt we needed to have a frame of reference, and so far, it’s worked out well.”

“I haven’t seen anything over-the-top yet,” laughed Neil.  “Your sister had already outspent you ten times at this point.”

“We want to do it up properly without going over the top.  We’ve had our differences, Neil; but my goal is to have our dream wedding without the need for spending down your bank account,” said Benedict.  “It’s an embarrassment of riches as is.”

“And I appreciate that,” said Neil.  _  
_

_And I can't believe how much I actually care about doing the right thing.  I'm certainly a credit to Mum and Dad, bless them._

“Have you given any thought as to what you want to give as wedding favors?” asked Toni.  “I have some great ideas…if you’re interested, of course.”

“The matter of the wedding favours has already been sorted,” replied Benedict.

Toni and Neil looked taken aback by his words.

“I don’t recall getting a bill for a deposit for favors,” said Neil with a frown.

“And you won’t,” said Benedict.  “My parents have offered to pay for the favours as their contribution to our wedding.”

“What did you choose?” asked Toni.  “Isn’t it traditional to give boxed slices of groom’s cake here?  I thought I read something about that.  It’s like a heavy, overly dense, booze-soaked fruit cake.  I doubt anyone from our side would care for that.”

“This isn’t about what your side likes or dislikes,” began Benedict. “If made properly, that heavy, overly dense, booze-soaked fruit cake – as you put it - can be quite tasty.  Have either of you ever had it?”

“Yeah, and I’m actually quite fond of it,” replied Neil.  “My mother used to make it at Christmas.”

Toni grimaced.  “No. I wouldn’t touch it.  I don’t like liquor-soaked cakes as a general rule.”

“Then who are you to judge something you’ve never eaten?” challenged an incredulous Benedict.

“We’re not having a traditional groom’s cake,” said Donna quickly.  “Giada came up with an idea for a croquembouche rather than the traditional fruit cake because Benedict mentioned that he loves cream puffs.”

“It will be the centerpiece for the sweets table, which will be brought out after the wedding cake is served,” chimed in Benedict.

“The choux puffs will be filled with vanilla and chocolate pastry cream,” added Donna.  “Then Giada will wrap the whole thing in a spun sugar netting.”

“That sound delicious and unique,” said Toni with a smile of approval.  “Leave it to Giada to save the day so we’re not stuck eating fruitcake!  Now, tell us about the favors.”

“Please don’t tell me you’re giving out those dumb little brandy snifters with your names and the date etched on them,” sighed Neil.  “We’ve amassed a whole collection of that useless kind of shit over the years - though I do love those Jordan almonds that they tie in a little sack of netting with the ribbon.”

“How about giving us some credit, Daddy? Benedict and I would never give out anything that tacky!”

“Fuck no!” agreed Benedict. “Donna and I were originally thinking of something edible – like a small box of Artisan du Chocolates liquid salted caramel balls for each guest to take home.”

“I like those – especially the milk chocolate-covered ones,” said Neil.  “We buy some whenever we go to their stand at Borough Market.  They give out loads of free samples.”

Benedict laughed. “Yes, one can make a meal on the samples the vendors give out at Borough Market.  My first stop is always the chocolate stall.”

“We were going to have a mix of dark and milk chocolate,” said Donna. “Then Benedict mentioned that his friends, Adam and Alice, gave out little boxes of hand-decorated sugar cubes to put in coffee or tea.”

“They were exquisite and quite the hit,” chimed in Benedict. 

“That’s actually an interesting idea,” said Toni.  “I like that.”

_Thank God she likes something._

Donna smiled at Benedict and squeezed his hand.  “Wait until you hear what Wanda and Tim suggested – it’s such a unique idea!  You tell them, Ben Honey.”

“My parents are paying to have a bespoke blend tea made up to commemorate our wedding.  They did the same thing for my sister, Tracy, when she married Derrick.”

“The tea will be served at our wedding.  You’ll be able to have it hot or iced,” said Donna. 

“Donna and I are going to meet with a tea sommelier at Twinings on the Strand one afternoon about two weeks prior to the wedding for a tea tasting to come up with a wedding blend.  Not only will it be served at our reception, but it will be packaged in bespoke tins for our guests to take home along with some of those hand-decorated sugar cubes.”

“Benedict and I already decided what we want printed on the label.”

“Which is?” inquired Neil with a raised eyebrow.

“The Perfect Blend:  Donna and Benedict, 4 December 2010,” replied Donna, smiling at Benedict.  “Underneath it will say:  Cumberbatch Wedding Blend.”

“They’ll keep a card on file with the formula; so we can replenish our special commemorative tea canister anytime we fancy,” continued Benedict.

“By the way, Dad, I’ll make sure to have a jar of Jordan Almonds on the sweets table.”

“Excellent!” said Neil.  “A wedding isn’t a wedding without them.”

“So how’s the house hunting going?” inquired Toni.  “Some of those ads you linked us to showed a lot of promise.  I particularly liked that white modern-looking home in Islington.”

Benedict nudged Donna’s foot under the table.  _Excellent!  As if right on cue, bless her!  
_

“We gave up looking because there was nothing available in our price range in the areas we liked,” replied Donna evenly.  “Living in London is more expensive than New York.”

“You already own a beautiful paid-for townhouse in New York,” said Toni. “If you move back home, it will only cost you taxes and utilities.”

“Maybe the London market will open up next year,” said Neil quickly. “House hunting takes a lot of time and patience.”

“Marco’s coming back from Saudi Arabia next December, so I’ve got to be out of his place right after the wedding,” said Donna. “I’d like to have photographs of me getting dressed in his apartment.  The views should make spectacular backdrops for the photos.”

“At least you have Benedict’s apartment to move into,” said Toni.  “There’s no rush to find a house at this time, is there?”  She regarded her daughter with a raised eyebrow.

“No.  There’s no rush at all,” confirmed Benedict.  “Shall I tell them or will you, Sweetheart?”

“Tell us what?” demanded Toni, suddenly suspicious.

“Don’t tell me you’re pregnant, Muffin!” blurted out Neil.

“NO!  No!  We’re not pregnant!” Donna assured them.  “Benedict’s downstairs neighbor is selling his share of the house and offered it to us to buy.”

“He wanted us to have first crack at it before putting it on the market,” clarified Benedict.   “If we buy Bob’s share, we would then own the entire house.”

“How much is he willing to sell it to you for?” asked Neil. “Hampstead is way out of your league.  You’re just lucky to have purchased your share of the house when the London real estate market was having a slump.”

“Bob’s offered to sell it to us for a reasonable amount,” replied Benedict.

“ _Exactly_ what do you deem as being reasonable?” asked Toni.

“Three hundred thousand pounds, which gives us another full flat in addition to a garage, back garden and another on-street parking space.  I paid four hundred and twenty-five thousand quid for my flat.”

“Let’s not forget that Bob’s share also comes with a brand new garden storage shed,” added Donna. “After we’ve shown you Kenwood House on Monday, Ben and I would like to show you his place and Bob’s apartment.”

_I must make a mental note to clean the place up before they set foot in my flat._

“Bob works nights; so we’d have to wait until mid-afternoon to get in,” explained Benedict.  “It has the same amount of space that my flat has with the addition of a small mud room that opens off the kitchen and back garden.”

“I take it you plan on renovating the house and turning it into a single family dwelling,” speculated Neil.

“They could also convert that loft into a full third floor, which would then give them the second and third floors to live in.  Then they could rent out the first floor apartment for extra income, Neil,” pointed out Toni. 

“That money would certainly come in handy,” said Neil.

“Or they could merge the two downstairs apartments into a single family unit and convert that loft into a small studio apartment with a roof terrace,” suggested Toni.  “You would just need to add a kitchenette and bathroom,” she said to Benedict and Donna.  “Either scenario would command a nice, high rent given the location in a quiet, upscale neighborhood close to public transportation, shopping and Hampstead Heath.”

 _She forgot to mention with a breathtaking view of the London skyline, though she might not know which direction my flat faces.  It does sound like Toni’s seen the internal layout of the house,_ thought Benedict.  _Her people probably dug up the plans somewhere._

“I’ve seen photographs of the outside of the house,” said Toni.  “And I …”

Benedict looked momentarily startled.  _Of course she has, bless her and her investigators._

“…think there are lots of possibilities as I’ve just pointed out.  Three hundred thousand pounds for Hampstead is a steal. Gaining a garage and the additional parking spot alone is worth it – not to mention a decent-sized backyard. You’d be fools not to buy it.  Why I would…”

“We are buying it, Mom,” interrupted Donna.  “Benedict and I have already accepted the offer and the lawyers are already working on it.  We should be ready to begin work on it in March or April.  Then we can live in my place until the work is complete.”

“Our plan is to convert the whole house into a single family dwelling, as neither of us fancy being a landlord,” said Benedict.  “When we’re done with the renovations, we’ll have a total of five bedrooms – all with en suite bathrooms – and there will be a powder room on the ground floor for guests to use.”

“The first floor will have a generously-sized foyer with a grand staircase leading to the upper floors.  It will also house a coat closet and the powder room will open off of it.  We’ll have a living room with a wall of French doors leading out to the patio and a fireplace flanked by bookcases; a formal dining room with a fireplace and eat-in gourmet kitchen with all commercial equipment.  Benedict is going to hand paint some of the tiles for the back splash,” added Donna excitedly.  “The second floor will consist of a master suite with fireplace, a large walk-in closet and spa bathroom; the laundry room and three other bedrooms each with their own bathroom.”

"My that sounds...ambitious...and expensive," murmured Toni.

“We’re keeping the original fireplaces intact where ever we can,” added Benedict. “All the rooms had them when the house was originally built, and we feel they add a certain charm and coziness.”

"All the existing fireplaces have since been converted to gas," added Donna.

“I don’t see where you’re going to cram in all these rooms in so little space,” said Neil with a frown.  “The house is large; but not as large as to accommodate the changes you’re describing – unless you plan on having tiny rooms.”

“We don’t, which is why we’re having a three-story rear addition built,” clarified Benedict.  “The plan is to open up and expand the dormer in order to turn it into another floor with a home office and art studio for me and a guest suite and bathroom. We can also extend the roof terrace by doing this.”

“We’re even hoping to add an elevator if we can afford it,” said Donna.

"Which is a big if right now," interjected Benedict.

“That’s a lot of bathrooms to clean, Muffin,” remarked Toni. 

“We’ll do the cleaning together, Mom,” said Donna.  “Did I mention that the kitchen is going to have a warming drawer to keep food at serving temperature and a blast chiller to cool down things quickly?  We’re also going to have a long center island that will double as a breakfast bar for quick meals and snacks.  There will be an alcove with a bay window that overlooks the backyard that we’ll put the dinette set in.”

“We plan on taking advantage of the bay windows to install window seats that will double as storage,” said Benedict.  “There will be built in book shelves flanking the fireplace and cupboards with lots of storage space.  We're also thinking of doing the same in the master suite.”

“Oh!  The most important thing is that we’re converting the house to have central air and heating,” said Donna proudly. "No more radiators and portable a/c units!"

“ _If_ it can be done, Darling,” Benedict cautioned her.  “The same goes for the lift.  A lot is going to depend upon the structure and integrity of the house.  It’s quite old as is, and we’re in a conservation area; so a lot will depend upon the Planning Committee and what the neighbors have to say.”

“I’m getting dizzy just listening to all this,” sighed Neil, massaging his temples.  “You two do realize that these renovations are going to be _very_ expensive, right?  They will cost far more than what you’re paying for Bob’s apartment.”

“Well, yeah.  We sat down with an architect and told him what our dream house would be; and he’s working on the plans to see what is and isn’t doable,” replied Benedict.  “It _is_ going to be obscenely expensive; but we don’t have to do everything straight off – we’ll just do the essentials to start.”

“We can have the shell done and take the rooms one at a time and finish them ourselves,” clarified Donna.  “Benedict and his friends are very handy.”

Neil closed his eyes and massaged his temples again.  “That will take years, Muffin, to get that house the way you two are talking.  It may never get to where you want it, especially if you run out of money.”

“Maybe you should scale back and do some more modest improvements,” suggested Toni.  “Having a connecting bathroom between two of the bedrooms would eliminate the need for one altogether.”

“Our prime concern is that we want to do it properly the first time,” insisted Benedict. “Donna and I both understand our limitations and don’t intend to go over our heads. We’ll start with the rooms that are most important:  like the bedroom, master bath and the kitchen.”

“I’d hate to think of you living in a big, empty, half-finished house, Muffin,” sighed Toni.  “A lot is going to depend on Benedict’s future earnings, and you can never be sure with the acting profession.”

“It’s not like he’s been approached by Marvel to be part of their super hero franchise – now, that would set you up for life,” Neil said to Benedict. “You know, I could visualize you as Dr. Strange.”

“Dr. who?”

“No, not _Dr. Who_ , Dr. Strange.”

“Is this some sort of joke at my expense, Neil?”

“No, Ben. Dr. Strange is a character in the Marvel Super Hero universe that I loved as a boy.  You look a little like him.”

“Oh.  I followed Batman when I was a boy. He was my first super hero obsession, and then eventually I got into American super heroes.”

“As did I.  Now, from what I know, you’ve got _Sherlock_ and _After the Dance_ coming up next year.  Then what’s on your agenda?”

“John Grant and I are in the process of lining up the next year’s work.  There are quite a few interesting possibilities that we need to sort out.”

“Oh, what do you have so far?” inquired Toni.

Benedict appeared irritated at her question.  “Nothing yet.”

“I see,” said Toni and Neil together. 

Benedict felt his temper begin to flare as he watched them exchange clear looks of disapproval, and Toni moved her hand close to Neil’s and barely grazed it.

_The future in-laws do not approve of our plans.  Too bad.  This is what an actor’s life is, and they need to accept it.  Neil does enjoy belittling my chosen profession every chance he can get. He’s such a cocksucker.  
_

“I’ll have the next season of _Cabin Pressure_ coming up, and if _Sherlock_ gets renewed for a second season...” _  
_

“In order words, there is nothing concrete yet, and your agent is putting out feelers to see if anyone bites,” declared Neil.  “That’s typical.”

“That’s the long and short of it,” confirmed Benedict.

“Who knows the life of an actor better than an entertainment critic?” asked Neil.

Benedict sat back in his chair and snorted.  “I don’t know.  Who?”

“I didn’t realize you were marrying such a comedian, Donna.  Perhaps you should try your hand at stand-up comedy, Ben.  However, I think Lenny Henry and Dawn French probably would run circles around you.”

“Oh, you just love taking the piss when it comes to my profession, don’t you?” sneered Benedict.

“As a matter of fact, I do.  I enjoy it more than you’ll ever know; because you can come off as such an arrogant jerk at times. Humble suits you much better.  Stop trying to impress us because we’re not impressed.”

“I’m not trying to impress you and Antonia.”

“Of course you are, and there’s no need to.  I don’t see any major Hollywood talent agents looking to sign you on or top studios inviting you to come out and audition.”

“I don’t fancy going Hollywood,” sniffed Benedict. “I’m perfectly happy where I am.  I prefer stage work.”

Neil barked out a laugh.  “That’s what they all say!  You’d jump through hoops if you got the chance to be in a Hollywood blockbuster.  It’s like that dumb crap all the hopeful actors say:  If I don’t hear from, insert name of director of your choice, by the end of the week; I’m going on vacation – but it’s a vacation the actor can’t afford to take.  Please spare me the bullshit, Ben. I’ve heard it all and then some!  If Hollywood came calling for you, you’d be on the first plane out.”

“That’s enough Dad!” Donna said sharply.  “Please stop needling Benedict about his career.  I thought we had put this behind us long ago!”

Neil ignored Donna’s plea.  “I realize more actors than not live hand-to-mouth, Ben.  I just hope and pray that my daughter doesn’t wind up being the spouse of one of them.”

“For God’s sake, Dad! We’re not going to starve!  Hello?  Did you forget that I have a very well-paying job?” Donna asked, waving her hand in front of Neil’s face in order to get his attention.

“What if you decide that you don’t want to work forever, Muffin?” asked Toni.  “What if you decide to start a family and stay at home?”

“What if Muffin decides she doesn’t want to give up her job?” countered Benedict with a sly smile.

“It’s not easy to raise a family and work,” declared Toni with a toss of her head.  “My daughter-in-law, Scarlett, is an active member of our law firm…”

“Who works part-time,” finished Donna, rolling her eyes.  “Scarlett goes to the office only while the kids are in school.”

“Have you forgotten that I can also speak from first-hand experience, as I did it as well.”

“Mom!  That’s not entirely true!  You only worked at Popi’s law firm part time when we were little.  I remember you also worked from home reviewing and drawing up contracts.  You used to joke that we were all doing our homework together at the kitchen table.  I also recall Grandpa Colin and Grandma Carla were living downstairs and happy to help out and watch us whenever you had to go to court or meet with a client,” Donna pointed out.

“See, Donna can have children and still work!  Why should she give it up? My parents would be happy to help out should we need a baby minder.”

“Ah, so you have it all figured out, don’t you?” snickered Neil.  “You’re going to depend on your parents, who are much older than Toni and I are.  Do you think they’ll have the energy and patience needed to care for a baby or run around after a toddler?”

“Donna’s mostly reviews restaurants at the dinner hour.  I’d be at home most of the time to care for our children whilst she’s out.”

“Interesting,” murmured Neil, tapping Toni’s forearm.

Benedict clenched his jaw.  “What is that supposed to mean?”

“If you’re doing a stage play, wouldn’t that mean you’d be at the theatre during dinner time?” inquired Toni.

“Yeah, it would,”  admitted Benedict.  "I'd be getting into makeup."

“And if you’re filming a TV show or movie, aren’t there times when the filming runs later or you’re needed for a night shoot?” Toni continued.

“Yeah, that’s true; but it doesn’t happen often.”

“What if you got a role in a movie that was filming outside of London – like in the US or on the Continent?”

Benedict glanced at Donna.  “I’d have to go.  Donna could always come with me and bring the children as long as they weren’t in school.”

Toni pursed her lips.  “Somehow I don’t see Hartswood Productions paying you to bring your family along while you’re working for them.  Perhaps if you were a huge star – like Tom Hanks - then I’d say yes.  By the way, isn’t the studio used to film _Sherlock_ located in Wales?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve just laid out several scenarios where you wouldn’t be available to care for your children if Donna were out working,” said Toni.  “What would you do?”

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck.  “I…I….erm…well, for starters; I wouldn’t accept a gig that took me away from home.”

Neil roared with laughter.  “Christ, how I love it when you paint yourself into a corner like this.  Counselor, you may rest your case now.  You’ve helped me make my point.”

“You guys really think you’re funny,” said Donna angrily.  “Not all my work is done at night.  You two are forgetting that I only go out one night a week, and I write my column during the day.  Benedict and I would find a way to make it work.  I also don’t see anything wrong with asking Wanda and Tim to help out once in a while.  They've already volunteered their babysitting services for when the time comes.”

“Donna loves her job, and the pay is extraordinary. Just think:  getting paid handsomely to go out and eat your meals in expensive restaurants and writing a column about the experience,” said Benedict.  “Who has it better than that?”

“Um…it is a little more than that, Ben,” said Donna.  “I just don’t call up a list of restaurants on my laptop, close my eyes and pick one.  I first have to decide on the topic of the column for the week and do some research on the various restaurants before choosing one; and not all of them are expensive.  I do that during the day.”

“I think you’re making a mistake with these crazy renovations,” said Neil.

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to agree with Neil this time,” added Toni.

“I don’t recall asking for your opinions,” snapped Benedict.

“Did I miss something?" asked Neil with a frown.  "Didn’t you two just invite Toni and me over to look at your apartment after we see the church and Kenwood House on Monday or was that another actor?”

“It was to have a look around at what we have to work with to see what other ideas you might have to offer about the layout – not whether or not we can afford it.  We would like for you to try and envision…”

“I envision bankruptcy,” snorted Neil. 

“Benedict!  Daddy! Please stop the verbal dueling!” cried Donna, slamming the palm of her hand on the table top, causing all the tableware to rattle alarmingly.

“Shush!  You need to keep it down, Donna.  Not everyone in the bloody restaurant heard you,” hissed Benedict, holding the tip of his index finger to his lips.

Donna leapt to her feet, knocking her chair over with a loud clatter that echoed in the sparsely furnished restaurant.  Every diner and server in the room was now gawking at their table.  A concerned busboy began to cross the room at lightning speed.

“Gotta love these acoustics,” quipped Neil.  “I like the food here; but I really despise the décor.”

“Thankfully, at least everything remained on the table this time.” Benedict got up and righted Donna’s chair before the busboy could reach their table.  “Well done, _Sweetheart_.  I believe now _everyone_ is aware that we’re having a rather loud row,” he spat.

“We’re not having a row, we’re having a…discussion,” retorted Neil.  “I was going to add the word ‘civilized’ but thought better of it.”

“Especially since you were the one to cast the first dig…” began Benedict.

“Can you all _please_ lower your voices and stop bickering?” Donna hissed as she picked her napkin up off the floor and folded it.  “I don’t think any of you realize just how loud you are being.  Voices carry very well in here because there isn’t any carpeting or window treatment to absorb it.”

“Please sit down, Darling,” said Benedict reasonably, patting the seat of her chair and giving her a smile that did not meet his eyes.

“They’re not bickering, Muffin.  It’s simply a loud difference of opinion,” clarified Toni.

“Difference of opinion, my arse,” snapped Benedict, glaring at Toni.  “That was a full-fledged verbal attack on my…”

“How about we call it a spirited discussion and leave it at that,” interrupted Donna with a nervous smile.  “Now, if you all promise not to kill each other …”

“Pardon me; but that’s motherfucking bullshit, _Muffin_.  This was _not_ a spirited discussion by _any_ definition!” insisted Benedict angrily.  “It was a right…”

“Are we all ready for some coffee or tea?” inquired Frederick, who seemed to come out of nowhere.   “Perhaps something stronger?”

“Yes, I think we could all use a break from our _spirited_ _discussion_ ,” replied Benedict with a sneer aimed at his tablemates.  _And I’d love to take my break with a double whiskey._ “Sit down, Donna.  _Please_ ,” he said, patting the seat on her chair once again.

“I don’t want to sit down.”

_My love always picks the wrong times to make a stand, bless her.  She needs to sit her bum on that motherfucking chair.  
_

“Oh, for fucks sake!”

Donna suddenly felt Benedict’s hand grab her belt and pull her down onto her chair.  She glared at him and her parents. 

Benedict lowered his eyes to the table as he felt Donna’s hostile stare.

_She must be wondering why in the fuck her parents and I can’t seem to get on.  We start off well enough and then it goes straight to hell.  I hope Donna realizes that they are the catalysts for these nasty discussions.  They hate that I’m an actor and take every opportunity to make sure I know that.  Someday those wankers are going to be so sorry they poked fun at me.  I shouldn’t give a toss about what they think; but, God help me, I do. I want to impress the fuck out of them.  I want them to be as proud of me as they are of Steve and Scarlett._

Everyone remained silent as the busboys quickly cleared the table and scurried away, whispering to each other and glancing back over their shoulders.

“We have some lovely puddings tonight,” remarked Frederick pleasantly as he pulled out his gold metal crumber and ran it over the table in order to rake up the crumbs.  “The hazelnut and Bramley apple crumble tart is especially delightful.  It is served with a dollop of Devonshire clotted cream on the side.”

“I’d fancy a double espresso to start please,” said Benedict, perusing the dessert menu Frederick had placed in front of him.

“And the sticky toffee pudding is another favourite of mine,” continued Frederick with great enthusiasm. “Our pastry chef does it with poached Italian prune plums and a caramel sauce that is just brilliant!”

“Does it come with ice cream?” asked Neil. “My mother always served vanilla ice cream with her sticky toffee pudding.”

“Yes, Mr. Saint James.  It is served with house-made vanilla bean ice cream.” 

“You know, I think I need a bathroom break,” said Donna, getting to her feet.  “I’ll share the apple tart with you, Benedict.”  With that she turned on her heel and started walking out of the restaurant towards the restrooms.  

“I think I need a break as well,” said Neil, getting to his feet.  He looked from Benedict to Toni, with his gaze lingering on his wife.  “Do you two think you can play nice while I’m in the bathroom or do I have to stay and referee until Donna comes back?”

Benedict adjusted the napkin on his lap and put his nose in the air.  “We’ll be fine, Neil.  We’re both adults.”

“What would you like for dessert, Dear?” asked Toni.

“Surprise me.”

Toni watched as her husband headed after their daughter.  “I hate it when he says: surprise me.  I know darn well what he wants and so does he.”

Frederick smiled down at her.  “May I be of help?”

“My husband would order the sticky toffee pudding with vanilla ice cream, and I would order the chocolate orange mousse.  That’s the conundrum.”

“Oh, there’s no conundrum, Madame,” said Frederick bending down and speaking in a low voice.  “The mousse is awful.  It has this weird texture that it shouldn’t have.  It’s lumpy and dense.  Mousse should be light and creamy.”

“Sold!  Sticky toffee pudding it is,” laughed Toni.  “Please make sure that…”

“The plums, caramel sauce and ice cream are all served in their own dishes on the side,” finished Frederick, looking very pleased with himself.

Toni nodded and smiled at him.  “You know me well.”

 _He knows what a right pain in the arse you are_ , thought Benedict. 

“Shall I bring one regular and one decaf coffee as well, Mrs. Saint James?”

“Yes, please.” 

“I’ll make sure to bring your warmed skimmed milk along with both sugar and artificial sweetener as well.”

Toni beamed her approval at the server.  “You’re a gem, Frederick.  You never forget.  No wonder Donna always insists on sitting in your station.”

“Do you think Donna would fancy a tea, Benedict?” asked Frederick.

“Yeah.  Something sans caffeine I would think - How about the lemongrass and ginger?”

“Excellent choice.”

Finally, Benedict Cumberbatch and Toni Saint James found themselves alone at the table.  She smiled at him; and a feeling of foreboding suddenly filled Benedict. 

_I dread being sat here alone with Antonia.  Why though?  I need to shake off this feeling.   It’s not like she has an axe to grind with me...or does she?_

 

 

 

                                                                                  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Again, part of this chapter is being told from Benedict's POV, but I still wanted to throw in his thoughts during the dinner.
> 
> 2\. I've done a little research about wedding favors, and it seems it depends on the bride and groom's preference as to whether they opt to have a groom's cake (and if so, if it's a fruit cake).
> 
> 3\. I'm poking fun at all the useless favors I've personally accumulated from weddings over the years. I prefer the recent trend to give out disposable cameras or little boxes of chocolates. I've only just read about the custom-blend teas and would have loved that myself when I was getting married. 
> 
> 4\. I've had the Artisan du Chocolates liquid salted caramel balls at Borough Market and they are do die for. 
> 
> 5\. Twinings really will make you a bespoke tea, I just embellished some of the details for this story. Details of the bespoke blending session can be found here: https://www.twinings.co.uk/about-twinings/tea-masterclass-a-tasting-experience. Scroll to the bottom.
> 
> 6\. Yes, the renovations to the house are over-the-top; but as I stated in another chapter, this is a much larger house than the real Benedict lives in.


	163. Chapter 163

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Benedict continues his tale of dinner at the Tate Modern – Part 3. Toni presents Benedict with the pre-nup and all hell breaks loose. 
> 
> Note: I’ll be using *************** for things happening at the same time.

 

“Donna!  Wait up, please!” Neil Saint James called after his daughter’s retreating back.

Donna stopped as she came to the hostess podium and waited for her father to catch up. 

“Why are you in such a hurry?”

“Because whenever I’m angry, I find I walk faster than I usually do.”

“Well, it’s time to slow down.  I’m not getting any younger.”

“Oh, Dad, you still run and go to the gym every day.  You can probably walk me into the ground.”

Neil linked arms with Donna as they headed towards the bathrooms in an effort to slow her stride.  “You do realize that I really don’t like arguing with Cumberbatch.”

Donna cackled sarcastically.  “Wow, you could have fooled me, Dad.  If I hadn’t intervened, you and Benedict would have kept going at it all night or until we got thrown out!”

“Every time Mom and I are going to be with him, we swear that we’re not going to start anything.  We go in with the best intentions of having a pleasant time and getting along.”

“And then something always goes horribly wrong,” sighed Donna.

“That’s not always the case, Muffin.  There have been times when we’ve had Skype visits and in person visits that went off without a hitch.  We’ve demonstrated many times that we are all perfectly capable of getting along with each other when we make the effort.”

Donna stood with her hands on her hips. “What about tonight then? What about all the times when one of you inevitably says something that piss Benedict off?”

“Cumberbatch has a thin skin.  He can be too sensitive at times.  Then there are times he seemingly begs for it,” retorted Neil.  “Tonight’s debacle came from a genuine fear that you two will somehow get in over your heads financially.”

“I’m confused - What about all the times you and Mom have praised Benedict’s good judgement when it comes to making financial decisions - particularly regarding the wedding?”

“I know, and you’re right.  Cumberbatch has shown to be sensible and responsible when it comes to money – mine and his.  I don’t know what comes over me.”

“Yes, you do; and so does Mom.”

“Enlighten me, Muffin.”

“You and Mom just don’t like that Benedict’s an actor,” declared Donna sadly. “You’re afraid he’s going to turn out like Jonathan Central and sit around our house waiting for the jobs to come to him and living off my salary.”

“God forbid anyone turn out like that sponge.  Acting is not a stable profession – even Sarah and Matt have experienced dry spells in their respective careers.”

“Even though Benedict’s been a working actor with promise ever since he got out of school, you still worry that one day he won’t be.”

“Yes, and he has no backup skills other than being a waiter or working in retail selling perfume.  That is the crux of it.  Even Danny Manganero had a backup plan – Danny said he’d always come back to Orlando and teach music if his singing career didn’t take off in Vegas, which it didn’t.”

“Don’t I know and to think that Danny wanted me to go to Vegas with him that time.”

“You would have done well. There are plenty of restaurants to review in Vegas.  What I admire is that Danny had the good sense to call it quits and returned to work at Disney.”

Donna gave a harsh laugh.  “It was called Danny ran out of money and had to come home to Orlando.  Thank God that Disney took him back!”

“Yes, and now look at him:  Vice President in charge of live entertainment at the theme parks!”

“We’re not here to talk about Danny’s rags-to-riches success story.  I don’t want you and Mom to keep belittling Benedict’s chosen profession.  It’s demoralizing and makes you both look childish and petty.”

“Please try and understand it from our point of view, Donna.  Your mother and I don’t want to see you doing without things because money becomes scarce.  You’re used to living a certain lifestyle.”

“You guys keep forgetting that I have a well-paying and stable job.  I can support both Benedict and myself very nicely.”

“For which I’m very thankful for.”

“You told me Benedict assured both you and Mom when he came to New York to propose that he’ll make sure I’m always taken care of and that we’re not going to starve.  He also backed up his words by listing all the projects he has in the hopper and that he’ll do whatever it takes to make sure we have a roof over our heads, clothes on our backs and food on the table.”

“Yes, he did say all that.  You have rightfully shamed me, Muffin.  I promise to try harder and make more of an effort to get along with Cumberbatch and to be more understanding.  I will talk to your mother as well.”

“I appreciate it, Dad.  Benedict is going to be a member of this family for a long time to come.  Also, I would appreciate it if you'd stop referring to him as Cumberbatch.”

“Fine. You know, Ben enjoys a good verbal sparring as much as I do,” stated Neil with a twinkle in his eye. 

“You’re right.  He does, and he also loves to have to last word,” laughed Donna.  “Just like a certain entertainment I know.”

“I should initiate a political discussion one day. I’d love to debate the differences between the Tories and the Labour Party with him.  I bet I could take the Labour side and get a rise out of him in less than five minutes.”

“I hate to disappoint you, but Benedict is a member of the Labour Party, as are his parents, so there wouldn’t be much to debate. Being you’re a Democrat you would find that you two have a lot in common.”

Neil looked disappointed.  “I would have bet good money that they were Tories.  Won’t Pa be disappointed to hear that we all have similar political beliefs?”

“Grandpa automatically assumed they were Tories just because they are posh.”

“Don’t let your fiancé hear you refer to him and his family as posh!” teased Neil, wagging a finger at her.  “That would surely piss him off.”

“Don’t I know?  I have to be very careful not to use that word around him,” sighed Donna, casting a worried glance back towards the dining room.  “I just hope Mom isn’t going to put him on the witness stand while we’re gone.”

“There would be no reason for her to,” said Neil.  “Your mother knows all there is to know about him for now.  She’d have to come up with something new to torment him with.”

“When it comes to Mom, the possibilities are endless.  I hope they just sit there in silence and wait for us to come back,” sighed Donna as they came to a stop in front of the bathrooms.  “I wouldn’t be able to bear it if we returned to the table to find Frederick’s been engaged as a referee.”

“Muffin, isn’t this the spot where you ran into Jude Law and took that photo you have on your Facebook?”

Donna blushed and looked guilty.  “Yes, but I didn’t run into him exactly like I posted.  I saw him go into the men’s room and waited for him to come out.  Then I pretended that I had just come out of the women’s room and we happened to bump into each other,” she replied in a whisper.  “Please don’t ever tell anyone I did that!”

“Hmmm…Ben wouldn’t like that.  For argument’s sake, what if that was him one day – how would you feel if he were famous and got stalked by a fan in your presence?”

Donna paused to consider his words.  “Jeez, I didn’t think it was stalking.”

“Well, think again, which is why I posed the question to you.”

“I wouldn’t be happy that Benedict was bothered on his free time.  I’d feel angry and resentful.”

“That’s only natural because you’d feel his private time is his and not to be interrupted, especially if you’re with him. I’ve had the opportunity to speak with a lot of actors.  It’s very hard to live in the limelight or to be in a relationship with someone who is when you’re not.  Being that’s his profession, dealing with fans is part of the job.  The fans should have the good sense to know when and when not to be intrusive with a celebrity when they are out in public trying to have a private moment; but should they not then the celebrity has a decision to make.  They can either comply with the request or set boundaries and say no.  Mr. Law chose to comply with yours, which was very nice of him since he was here having dinner with his family, according to your comment on Facebook.”

“Crap.  Now, it’s my turn to feel ashamed now.  Jude was so nice about it when I asked him.”

“I’m sure he was because Jude seems to be a nice guy from what I’ve heard about him and fan encounters.”

“Do you think he knew I had set him up?”

“Let me put it this way:   I’m sure you weren’t the first fan to ever pull something like that, and you won’t be the last.”

“I won’t ever do that again.”

“You should never, say never, Muffin.”

Donna smiled at Neil.  “That goes for you as well, Dad.  You should never say that Benedict won’t become famous one day.”

“Touche,” laughed Neil.  “I’ll be waiting out here for you.”

 

************************************************

 

Benedict Cumberbatch sat in stony silence as he watched Donna and Neil cross the restaurant towards the restrooms.   They seemed to be lost in deep conversation.

_Donna’s face has that pinched look she gets whenever she’s angry.  One day Neil and Antonia are going to overstep their boundaries once too often and destroy the relationship they have with her. Wouldn’t that be lovely?  No.  In actuality it wouldn’t.  I don’t want there to be a rift between Donna and her parents no matter how much I dislike them at times.  
_

Toni Saint James seemed lost in thought as she stared out the window at the view of Saint Paul’s Cathedral, not seeming to want to make small talk with him.  Benedict looked down at the table to find that he was unconsciously drawing small circles on the tablecloth with his index finger as he caught himself clenching his jaw again.  Wanda’s voice suddenly popped into his head:

_“Hells bells, Ben!  Are you trying to make a hole in the bloody fabric? Talk to the woman for fucks sake!  Where are your manners?”  
_

_At home, Mum.  I don’t fancy having a strained conversation with Antonia and it seems she feels the same way.  Why should I bother?  
_

Again Wanda’s voice sounded in his head: _  
_

_Because it’s the right thing to do!_

_Alright, Mum.  You win, and you aren’t even here.  Let’s see…what is a safe topic for discussion?  
_

Benedict laughed to himself and primly folded his hands on the table top as he kept his eyes focused on the area where the restrooms were located as his mind searched for a witty anecdote. The sound of Toni’s melodious voice momentarily startled him. 

“Benedict, I’d like to apologize for our behavior tonight.  It was not our intent to start an argument,” she began slowly.  

_Bloody hell!  The cow has decided to offer up an apology. I don’t feel like accepting it straight off.  I want to see if I can make her grovel a bit – before Donna returns of course._

“You could have fooled me,” snorted Benedict.  “I thought that’s how you and your husband got your jollies.”

“That’s not true at all, Benedict!”

“You two have a most peculiar way of showing your fondness and respect for me then.”

“If only you weren’t an actor,” Toni said evenly.

Benedict leaned in towards her and spoke in a low, angry voice. “Well, I am, Antonia.  You and your husband need to accept that little fact about me; and I’ve got news for you:  it’s not going to change any time soon.  Acting is my passion, and I have _no_ plans whatsoever to give it up.”

Before Toni could reply, Frederick returned with their drinks and refilled their water glasses before disappearing into the kitchen.  Benedict noticed that he cast a worried eye back towards them as he walked away.

_He’s afraid we’re going to start up again.  I’m a bit concerned myself, but I’m not going to let her treat me like shit._

“I’m not a moron when it comes to money you know,” declared Benedict. “I may not be the best at maths, but I know what I have and keep meticulous records when it comes to my finances and investments.”

“ _You_ have investments?” asked a stunned Toni.  “What investments?”

_How about that?  Her investigators missed my investments?  Shame on them!_

“Blimey! So your team of stalwart private dicks neglected to turn up my meager stock portfolio?  That’s inexcusable. I’d surely sack the lot of them for missing that, Antonia.”

“There’s no need for sarcasm.”

“Actually, I thought there was.”

“How about we both just try and have a civilized conversation and put the wiseass remarks on the back burner for now?”

“Bloody hell!  Just when I was beginning to enjoy myself, damn it!  Alright then, I’ll try my best to kerb the snark; but only if you insist.”

“I insist.”

“Fine,” Benedict huffed.  _I’m really sounding petty now.  I need to stop and remember my manners._ “You may consider me kerbed for the present.”

“What made you want to play the stock market?”

“My Gran Pauline left me some shares of well-performing stocks in her will as well as some money and her engagement ring.  Thanks to Dad’s sage advice, it’s doubled in value; and I’ve since diversified and purchased additional stocks and bonds, which have also since doubled, thanks to Donna’s advice.  Your daughter is quite a whiz when it comes to investing – she’s cautious, yet not afraid to take a little risk.  I’m much more conservative if left to my own devices.”

“The stock market is all about the risk, Benedict.  Donna gets advice from my brother, Angelo, who’s quite involved in the market.”

 _I bet he is, bless him,_ thought Benedict.

Toni regarded Benedict with narrowed eyes.  “Are these stocks worth pennies?”

“Heavens no, Antonia!  I was just joking when I said it was meager – it isn’t meager at all, as I’m sure you’ll find out.”

“I’m glad to hear that, Benedict.  That is a comfort to me to know that you have some income to draw on, should you need to.  I’m sorry that we were so harsh on you about the house and your job.  I feel terrible that we managed to put a damper on your happy news.”

“Then just what in the hell was tonight all about then if not to have a go at me?” 

“It was about our daughter’s financial security.”

 _But Donna is financially secure already. She doesn’t need me to support her_. _Antonia is using this as an excuse to cut me down again.  I won’t take the bait.  I’ll just let her talk._

Benedict said nothing in return. 

“Neil and I are concerned…worried about the future.  We just want Donna to have a comfortable and happy life with you.”

“Having money isn’t an automatic guarantee of a happy marriage, Antonia.  Surely, you must realize that.  I’m sure you’ve handled your share of celebrity divorces yes?”

Toni nodded.  “Yes, I have; and you’re right.  Some of these celebrities have more money than God and are flat out miserable in their private lives.   The old adage is true:  Money can’t buy happiness.  Again, I’m sorry, Benedict.  The last thing we want is to argue with you and have bad blood between us.”

“I don’t want that either.  I’d always envisioned that I’d get on with my in-laws. What can I do to convince you that I’m not going to let Donna become destitute?” 

Toni Saint James turned and looked over her shoulder.  Her brown eyes darted in the direction of the bathroom to see if Neil and Donna were headed back yet.  There was no sign of them.  Benedict thought that she appeared as if she were grappling with making a difficult decision.  Finally, she smiled serenely at him as she bent down and retrieved her purse from the floor.

“Being you asked, Benedict; there is something you can do that would bring me great peace of mind.”

 

*******************************************************

 

Neil Saint James stood at the urinal in the men’s room, zipping up his trousers.  There was something bothering him; but he was unable to put his finger on it.

_I wish to hell I knew why I suddenly feel so uneasy about leaving Toni and Cumberbatch alone at the table.  It’s as if I’m about to have a premonition of something bad that’s about to happen – but what?  
_

Neil went to the sink and waited patiently for the automatic soap dispenser to squirt a small dollop of liquid soap into the palm of his hand.  He then waited for the automatic faucet to turn itself on.

_Jesus Christ!  These things take forever to work.  I could have washed my hands the old-fashioned way three times by now._

Finally, warm water began to flow from the faucet; and Neil was able to lather up his hands.  As he regarded his reflection in the mirror, a snippet of the conversation that occurred just before he left the table and set off after Donna came back to him.

_“Do you two think you can play nice while I’m in the bathroom or do I have to stay and referee until Donna comes back?”  
_

_“We’ll be fine, Neil.  We’re both adults.”  
_

Neil felt a sudden chill run down his back as he rushed to the automatic hand-dryer and rubbed his hands together underneath the hot air as he internal warning bells sounded.

_Crap! I hope to hell my wife doesn’t decide to present Cumberbatch with that fucking pre-nup while they’re alone.  She promised me she wouldn’t; but if he inadvertently gives her the opportunity, Toni won’t hesitate to seize the moment and present him with that damn thing out.  I’ve got to get back there on the double before it’s too late._

Neil rushed out of the men’s room with still damp hands and briskly walked towards the restaurant.  He could see Toni and Benedict sitting at the table in what appeared to be silence.

_Okay, that’s good.  They’re not talking.  Excellent!_

The sound of Donna’s voice from behind him caused Neil to jump. “I thought you were going to wait for me, Dad.”

Neil turned to her.  “Oh, I’m sorry, Muffin.  I just thought better of leaving your mother and Ben alone together for too long.  You know how your mother can be when provoked – real or imagined.”

“Everything looks peaceful enough,” observed Donna, looking over at the table.  “Mom’s watching Benedict read something.  Maybe they decided to order after dinner drinks.”

Neil’s heart began to pound in his chest as he realized what Benedict was reading.

_NO!  Damn you, Toni!   You promised me!  
_

“I could go for a Calvados. That would complement the apple tart.  What about…”

“Holy fucking shit!  That’s no drinks menu Cumberbatch is reading!” bellowed Neil as he headed into the restaurant, leaving a bewildered Donna still standing at the entrance.

 

****************************************************

 

 Toni delved into her handbag and removed an envelope from her law firm.  She proceeded to open it and extracted some papers, which she offered to Benedict to read.

“Here.  I would be both very pleased and satisfied if you would be so kind as to read, date and sign these.  There are three copies:  one for you, one for Donna and one for me to file.”

Benedict took the papers from her and began to read the first page.  _What fresh hell is this?_ _It appears to be some sort of legal document._

 

 

**Benedict Timothy Carlton Cumberbatch, hereinafter referred to as Prospective Husband, and Donna Marie Saint James, hereinafter referred to as Prospective Wife, hereby agree on this _____ day of December, in the year 2009, as follows:**

**1.** **Prospective Husband and Prospective Wife contemplate marriage in the near future and wish to establish their respective rights and responsibilities regarding each other's income and property and the income and property that may be acquired, either separately or together, during the marriage.**

**2.** **Prospective Husband and Prospective Wife have made a full and complete disclosure to each other of all of their financial assets and liabilities, as more fully set forth in the accompanying Financial Statements, attached hereto as Exhibits A and B.**

**3.** **Except as otherwise provided below, Prospective Husband and Prospective Wife waive the following rights:**

**a.** **To share in each other's estates upon their death.**

**b.** **To spousal maintenance, both temporary and permanent.**

**c.** **To share in the increase in value during the marriage of the separate property of the parties.**

**d.** **To share in the pension, profit sharing, or other retirement accounts of the other.**

**e.** **To the division of the separate property of the parties, whether currently held or hereafter acquired.**

**f.** **To any claims based on the period of cohabitation of the parties.**

**4.** **There are no exceptions set forth here.**

**5.** **Any children resulting from this union will be raised as Catholics and will reside with the Prospective Wife on a permanent basis.**

**6.** **Both Prospective Husband and Prospective Wife are represented by separate and independent legal counsel of their own choosing.**

**7.** **Both Prospective Husband and Prospective Wife have separate income and assets to independently provide for their own respective financial needs.**

**8.** **This agreement constitutes the entire agreement of the parties and may be modified only in a writing executed by both Prospective Husband and Prospective Wife.**

**9.** **In the event it is determined that a provision of this agreement is invalid because it is contrary to applicable law, that provision is deemed separable from the rest of the agreement, such that the remainder of the agreement remains valid and enforceable.**

**10.** **This agreement is made in accordance with the laws of the state of New York, and any dispute regarding its enforcement will be resolved by reference to the laws of that state.**

**11.** **This agreement will take effect immediately upon the solemnization of the parties' marriage.**

**I HAVE READ THE ABOVE AGREEMENT, I HAVE TAKEN TIME TO CONSIDER ITS IMPLICATIONS, I FULLY UNDERSTAND ITS CONTENTS, I AGREE TO ITS TERMS, AND I VOLUNTARILY SUBMIT TO ITS EXECUTION.**  
  
---  
  
**_______________________________  
Prospective Husband**

| 

**______________________________  
Prospective Wife**  
  
 

 

As soon as he finished reading the document, Benedict compressed his cupid bow lips into a thin line as he regarded Toni Saint James with barely-contained fury.  Her pretty face wore an anxious yet determined expression as she met his icy blue gaze.  It was more than obvious that her future son-in-law was seething with anger.

_This cunt has the bollocks to want me to sign a pre-nuptial agreement in order to protect Donna’s interests. Does she think that little of me?  I suppose the answer is obvious:  No.  Antonia doesn’t trust me to do right by Donna._

“This is a pre-nuptial agreement that’s been drafted in the US,” declared Benedict in a low voice.  “Why are you asking me to sign this piece of rubbish?”

“I thought the intent was obvious – it’s meant to protect both yours and Donna’s assets in the event of a separation or divorce.”

“Forgive my saying so, Antonia; but this is pure bullshit,” declared Benedict, tossing the papers onto the tabletop.  “Your agenda is to solely protect Donna’s assets from falling into my hands should we part ways, which we won’t.  You don’t give a toss about mine.”

“If that were the case, then why is her name also on it?”  Toni challenged him.  “I’m not just asking you to sign it. Donna’s name is on the form as well.  This way if you split up, you both leave with whatever assets you each originally brought into the marriage.  For example, you get to keep your apartment; and Donna would keep hers.”

Benedict took a deep breath and let it out.  “I’m ever-so-grateful to you that I’ll still have a roof over my head. I couldn’t bear the thought of having to pitch a tent on the Heath.”

“There’s no need for sarcasm, Benedict. It has to work both ways:  you’ll retain whatever you brought into the marriage and likewise for Donna.  You have to admit that’s fair.”

“You did a pre-nup for both of us to save face should you ever be called out on it, Antonia.  My assets aren’t worth nearly as much as Donna’s.  It’s not a matter of Donna going after my interests – you’re afraid that I’ll go after hers.”

“Well, let’s be frank here, Benedict, they aren’t.  I don’t begrudge you keeping your apartment or car; and neither would Donna.  You know damn well that she owns the bulk of the wealth, and I want it to remain that way should you break up.  I would hate to see you living in her beautiful townhouse that I worked so hard to get for her and Carly.”

 “You really don’t know me at all then. We’re not going to break up.  We’ve merged all of our assets.”

“Yes, I know that.  You were in quite a hurry.  Most couples wait until after they’re married to do all that.”

“It wasn’t my idea, Antonia.  It was Donna’s.  She insisted we merge everything once we became engaged. I had imagined that we’d wait until after the wedding to sort all that out, but ...” Benedict spread his hands and allowed his words to trail off.

Toni sighed.  “It was a bad idea.”

“It really shouldn’t matter whether or not I sign that blasted thing in the grand scheme of things, does it?  Donna and I are getting married and plan on staying that way.”

“Well, I think it matters a great deal.  It gives you access to her money and her property _now_.”

_I need to mind my mouth filter.  Of course it would matter to the cow, bless her._

“That was the intent, and it does work both ways.”

“You’ve got shit, except for your apartment, some meager savings and that old car; and you know it.”

_Oh, you forgot something.  Hahaha!_

Benedict wagged his finger at her. “Ah; but you’re forgetting my stock portfolio.”

“I can get it for Donna if need be,” said Toni with a defiant toss of her head.

  
“I wouldn’t be so cocky if I were you, Antonia,” snarled Benedict.  “Pre-nuptial agreements aren’t legal here.”

“Feel free to have your solicitor look it over.”

 “Oh, I fully intend to; but I know he’s going to tell me that it’s worthless in a UK court of law.”

Toni glanced back over her shoulder in the direction of the restrooms.  Benedict watched as her face blanched and she leaned over in order to take the agreements off the table.   Neil Saint James was on his way back to the table with Donna at his heels.  The older man seemed to be in a panic, and Donna appeared bewildered by his behaviour.  Unfortunately, in her haste, Toni only managed to pick up two of the three documents, leaving one on the table.  

_Oh, Ho!  Antonia wants to hide the pre-nup from Neil and Donna.  Neil appears to be very anxious to get back here.  I wonder why?  Does he know she had it in her handbag all along?  It would appear that way, but what do I know.  I’m just a drippy actor._

“You know, Benedict, it was rude of me to bring up the pre-nup over dinner.  Tonight was meant to be a catch-up so you and Donna could share your wedding plans with us.  We can continue our discussion at another time.  Perhaps we can meet somewhere for coffee before I have to leave for Orlando.  There’s no need to needlessly upset Donna or Neil when we can come to a mutual understanding on our own,” Toni said in a low, urgent voice as she shoved the papers into her handbag and zipped it shut. 

 “Really now?  I think not, Antonia,” he said with a bitter laugh.

Toni’s gaze landed on the third copy of the pre-nup that she had inadvertently left behind on the table.  “May I have that please, Benedict?”   She held out her hand expectantly.

Benedict frowned.  “I thought this copy was mine to show my solicitor.”

“On second thought, I need to make a couple of minor changes before you allow him to review it.” 

Benedict raised a skeptical eyebrow at her and made a move to grab the agreement off the table.  Unfortunately for Toni, Benedict’s reaction time was much faster. He flashed a smug smile at her as he grasped the pre-nup tightly in his hand. 

“Give me that back please!” 

“I declined your request once already, and the response remains the same:  No. I want to sort this out now – with Donna and your husband present.”

“I don’t think that’s wise given the circumstances, Benedict.   Neil will see it as work; and Donna will see it as an intrusion on a family dinner.”

“Surely, Donna will understand that you’re doing this primarily for her benefit as well as mine.  I don’t see her getting upset over it.”

_Antonia knows damn motherfucking well that this is going to piss both of them off.  Otherwise she wouldn’t be so desperate for me to remain silent about it.  
_

Just then Frederick and the food runner approached the table with the tray holding their desserts.

“We’re not ready for the puddings just now,” said Benedict.  “Can you please come back in ten minutes or so when Donna and her father are here?”

“Of course, Benedict,” said Frederick.  “Not a problem at all.”

Toni waited until they were alone again to continue her plea. 

“I seriously advise you to wait until Monday or Tuesday,” said Toni, as she sized up whether or not she could take the pre-nup from him. “We have your engagement party tomorrow night and then the tree-trimming brunch at Donna’s on Sunday.”

“This is exactly why I fancy getting this matter sorted out _now_ , Antonia.”

“Please give me that copy!”  She hissed at him.  

“Not on your bloody life, not until Donna and Neil have had a proper look at it.”

“Neil’s already seen it.”

“Then there’s no reason to hide it from him, yes?  Now, Donna, on the other hand hasn’t seen it.”

“You don’t know that for certain.”

“I deduced it from your desperate behaviour.”

“Oh, stop acting like Sherlock Holmes for God’s sake!  You have no idea…”

“Au contraire, I think I do.”

Toni suddenly lunged and got hold of the paper.  “Let go of it now.”

Benedict shook his head.  “I have no intention of letting go.  This is my copy.”

Toni gave an abrupt tug, tearing the document in half.  “Damn you, Benedict!  You’re going to regret this!”

“Somehow I think you’re the one who’s in a pickle,” snickered Benedict, eyes scanning the remaining piece of paper in his hand.  “Fancy that!  I retained the half with all the interesting content.  You just have the bottom portion with the signature lines.  Well done.” 

“What in the hell is going on here?” demanded Neil as he held out Donna’s chair for her to sit.  “Are you two providing after dinner entertainment for the dining room now?  If you’ll be so kind as to raise your voices just a little more, then everyone in the back will be able to hear you better.”

“It looks like you’ve been playing tug-o-war!” exclaimed Donna, looking from her mother to Benedict. 

“Yes, and your mother just lost,” quipped Benedict with another smug smile.

 

**************************************************

 

Neil felt as if he were walking in slow motion through the Tate Modern’s dining room.  Their voices were raised in what sounded like an argument and the surrounding tables seemed to be captivated by whatever his wife and Benedict were discussing. Finally, Neil was afforded a clear view of the table, which gave him a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.    

_What are they doing? Fuck!  Cumberbatch has the pre-nup!  Toni promised me she wouldn’t do this. I can’t believe she waited until Donna and I left the table and whipped it out.  He looks like he’s about to explode, and I don’t blame him._

Neil felt someone catch hold of his jacket sleeve.  “Dad, what’s wrong? Why are you in such a rush?” Demanded Donna.

“I’m trying to prevent a war from breaking out at our table; but it looks as if I might be too late.”

“I don’t see anything unusual.  They’re just sitting there talking…”

_On closer observation, Benedict’s jaw is clenched and I can see all the frown lines clearly etched in his forehead.  Their voices sound as if they are having a disagreement. Mom must have said something to piss him off.  
_

Toni suddenly turned in her chair towards the dining room as if looking for them.  Her face drained of all color the minute she spotted them.  Neil gave her a jaunty little wave.  _  
_

“I suggest you take another look, Muffin,” said Neil.

Donna watched in horror as her mother tried to snatch whatever Benedict was reading from him.  It was obvious they were embroiled in an argument. 

“Crap!  That’s not the drinks menu. Let’s get over there!” Donna said, letting go of Neil’s sleeve and following him to the table.

“What in the hell is going on here?” demanded Neil in a low, menacing voice as he held out Donna’s chair for her to sit.  “Are you two providing after dinner entertainment for the dining room now?”

“You look like you’ve been playing tug-o-war!” observed Donna. 

Toni sat stiffly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear as her husband glared at her.  Her large diamond stud earring glittered in the restaurant’s dim lighting.

“Yes, and your just mother lost,” quipped Benedict with a smug smile aimed directly at Toni. 

_That was petty and childish, Benedict.  Mind your Harrovian manners that cost Gran Pauline, Mum and Dad thirty-thousand pounds a semester. Act like the adult you are.  
_

“What is that?” inquired Donna, pointing to the pre-nup in his hand.

“Do you want to tell her or shall I?” Benedict asked Antonia. 

Neil held out his hand to Toni for the piece of paper in her hand.  “May I?”

Toni grudgingly handed the ripped paper to him.  “I don’t see why _you_ have to see it.  You know damn well what it is!”

“What is going on?” demanded Donna.  “I seem to be the only one who hasn’t a clue as to what you guys are going on about.”

“Oh, so sorry,” apologized Benedict, handing his piece of the document to Donna for her inspection. “I don’t believe you were privy to this, Darling.”

As Donna read the pre-nup, her hazel eyes widened in disbelief. When she finished, she looked up at Toni and waved the paper at her, eyes flashing with fury.

“This is a pre-nuptial agreement that’s been filled in with our names. What in the hell is this all about, Mom?  Benedict and I never requested that you draw one of these up for us.”

“That is correct on all counts,” acknowledged Toni.  “It’s just a little something that I took upon myself to do in order to ensure that yours and Benedict’s assets would be protected in the event that the marriage doesn’t work out.”

“That’s hardly what I’d call a _little_ something, Mother,” retorted Donna angrily.  “This is a big, important something – something that implies the two parties don’t really trust each other as far as I’m concerned!”  She turned to Benedict and took his hand.  “Ben Honey, I hope you realize that I had nothing whatsoever to do with this.  I never even considered us signing one of these.”

Frederick and the food runner approached the table with the tray of desserts and Benedict impatiently waved them away.  Then he took Donna’s hand in his and rubbed the back of it with his thumb in order to soothe her. 

“Calm down, Love.  I know better than to think you would ask me to sign a pre-nup, and I would never dream of asking you to sign one in turn.  I know damn well from whence this idea came.”

“How could you draft something like this without even asking me, _Mother_?”

“As I said before, I did it in order to protect all of your assets in the event…”

Donna narrowed her eyes as she felt herself seething with anger.  “What event?” she demanded. 

“In the event that things go awry between you and Benedict, it would pain us to see him be able to help himself to your assets.”

“Nothing’s going to go awry!  We’re in this for the long haul – till death us do part.”

“That’s what you say now,” countered Toni.  “You’re in love and think you’ll live happily ever after.  However, you forget that I’ve seen many happily ever afters go horribly wrong, resulting in bitter custody fights and nasty divorces.  When people are in the throes of a divorce, they look to grab as many of their partner’s assets as they can if there is no pre-nuptial agreement in place prior to the marriage.”

“May I point out that there are amicable divorces,” said Benedict.

“Your own mother’s divorce from James Tabernacle was fairly ugly according to my research,” said Toni.  “It made the papers.”

“Toni, you promised me you wouldn’t pursue this!” hissed Neil.  “Please be quiet and let’s have our dessert in peace.”

“Oh, it’s too late for that!” snickered Benedict.  “We’re going to pursue this to the conclusion.”

 Donna’s eyes suddenly locked onto Neil’s.  “You knew about this?”

“Yes, I did; and for the record I wasn’t in favor of it.”

“Yet you allowed her to carry on with it,” observed Benedict.

“You try stopping Toni once her mind is set on something,” snorted Neil.  “Think about it, Ben.  She waited until both Donna and I were away from the table to pounce.”

“I did _not_ pounce,” insisted Toni.

“You dived head first into your pool of enthusiasm, Toni,” chimed in Neil. "And hit bottom."

“It’s more akin to a pool of deception,” snorted Benedict.

“We were discussing his shaky career and our worries that Donna might not be living in the manner she’s accustomed to one day,” continued Toni.

“Jesus Christ, Mother!  You talk as if I’m some sort of spoiled little princess who’s used to living in the lap of luxury.  Of course I enjoy my creature comforts; but if money were scarce, I’d learn to do without them.  Money isn’t everything.”

Toni Saint James snorted.  “You say that now, Muffin.”

“I’d appreciate it if you’d stop saying ‘we’ and ‘us’, Dear.  This is _your_ show,” corrected Neil. “I’ve gone on record several times that I thought asking Ben to sign a pre-nup was not the best idea.”

“Not to mention that we’ve been over the matter of Benedict’s chosen profession many times before, and I thought this was a dead issue,” snarled Donna.  “I thought you all had come to an understanding when you had lunch in New York; and everyone was going to make an effort to be accepting and get along.”

“As did I,” sighed Benedict.  “Apparently, that’s not the case.”

“Yes, we are still concerned about the longevity of your career,” said Neil.  “But for the time being, I must admit that everything looks fairly rosy.  You’ve got a hotly anticipated TV series coming up as well as the lead in that Terrance Rattigan revival at the National, not to mention the other little miscellaneous jobs you pick up as your schedule permits.  I’m not concerned for the immediate future or next year.”

“Then what’s the problem, Neil?” demanded Benedict.  “You just pointed out that there will be a fairly steady flow of money coming in from my gigs.”

“It’s difficult to step back when it comes to being concerning about your child’s welfare, Ben – which you’ll better understand once you have one of your own.  Toni and I know that you’re a good person who only has the best of intentions and Donna’s welfare at heart.”

“You have a right funny way of showing it then,” growled Benedict.  “One minute I’m level-headed and responsible; then the next minute I’m not.  Make up your damn minds – which is it for fucks sake!”

Frederick and the food runner peeked out of the kitchen door and started towards the table with the desserts.  Benedict shook his head at them and once again they retreated to the kitchen.

Neil and Toni exchanged glances and Neil patted her hand.

“Now, relish what I’m about to say; as I don’t say it very often:  Toni and I are wrong in our treatment of you, Ben.  We’ve allowed our concern for Donna to get way out of hand.  You’ve proven to be responsible and concerned with Donna’s welfare; and you’ve made prudent financial decisions. You both know what you’re doing, and it’s your business.  You’ll have to forgive Toni’s actions.  As I said before, she dove head first into her pool of enthusiasm this time.”

“That wasn’t jumping into a pool of enthusiasm on a whim, Daddy!  That was premeditated…” began Donna.

“You do realize that pre-nup agreements are not enforceable here – even if I were to sign one, which I’m not,” interrupted Benedict.  “It means shit.”

“Correct, but I’d feel so much better if you would be so kind to just sign it, Benedict,” said Toni, opening her handbag and removing the two whole documents. “Please.  As you said, it’s not legal here; so what’s the harm?”

“Toni, that’s quite enough,” snapped Neil.  “Put those damn things away!”

“If I don’t sign it, are you going to have your brother Angelo make short work of me then?”

Toni appeared aghast at Benedict’s words.  “What exactly are you inferring?”

“You may feel free to draw whatever conclusions you fancy, Antonia.”

“If we were to move to New York or anywhere in the US, then anything we signed would be legal and enforceable there,” said Donna.  “Don’t sign it, Benedict.”

“I’m not going to, but I’d like to at least state my reasons to you all.  I would never sign such a document because it shows a lack of total commitment as far as I’m concerned.  We have just lost sight of things. We live in a world where it is just annulments and pre-nups and everything is immediately change-able, including your partner for life - the vows and words don’t mean anything anymore.”

“That’s true,” agreed Neil.

"People aren’t as good as their words or handshakes,” continued Benedict, taking the papers from Toni. “They have kind of slipped into it, just being about immediate gratification. Sorry, this isn’t to spit in the face of people who do live their lives by principles; there are shitloads of people that do.  However, that’s not how I am.”

“True words again,” said Neil.

“I promise you both that I will take my marriage vows very seriously.  I fully intend to uphold them no matter what life throws at us, whether good or bad.  I love the fuck out of your daughter; and I have no intention of ever breaking the vows that I make to her on our wedding day.  I cherish the sacrament of marriage and intend to remain married to your daughter until the day I die. Therefore, I don’t need to sign this fucking pre-nup.”

And with that Benedict deliberately and painstakingly tore up all three copies of the pre-nup into tiny pieces, which he placed in front of a fuming Toni Saint James. 

“And I never, _ever_ expect to hear another word about motherfucking pre-nups or our finances ever again, as they are none of your business, Antonia.  If you don’t like it, then you can bloody well sod off.”  Benedict removed his wallet, extracted some bills and threw them down on the table.  “That should cover dinner.  No need to send me any change. Feel free to use it for cab fare – my treat.”  He got to his feet and buttoned his jacket.  “Oh, and you may not want to attend our engagement party as there will be members of the acting community there; and I know how much you two loathe actors.” He gazed down at Donna and held out his hand to her.  “Coming Donna?”

“Not yet.  I have some words of my own to say about my parents’ disgraceful behavior tonight.”

Donna shook her head in disgust at her mother and got to her feet, as Benedict stood by patiently.

“You really outdid yourself this time, Mom.  I can’t believe you had the nerve to do this to Benedict behind my back – and Dad’s after he specifically asked you not to!  I am in one hundred percent agreement with everything Benedict said tonight.  I don’t ever want to hear either of you belittle him or his choice of career again.  Not one fucking disparaging word!  I expect you both to treat him with the same courtesy and respect that you show to Steven and Scarlett.  I won’t accept anything less and neither will he. Benedict is a kind, caring and thoughtful person who has demonstrated his love and commitment to me time and again.  He has also shown you both kindness, consideration and respect when you’ve earned it.  However, there have been times when you deliberately baited him and deserved his wrath.  Now, if you feel you can behave yourselves, then you are more than welcome to attend our engagement party tomorrow night and my tree trimming brunch on Sunday. If not, then I suggest you find something else to do.” 

With that Donna took Benedict’s hand, and they walked out of the restaurant.  Toni and Neil sat in stunned silence, watching Benedict and Donna’s retreating backs until they got into the elevator and the door slid shut. 

“Good job, Darling Dear!  You’ve not only managed to further alienate Cumberbatch; but now you’ve succeeded in alienating your daughter as well.”

“Oh, Donna will understand once I explain the necessity for a pre-nup to her.  Don’t worry, it’ll be fine; and Benedict will sign it.”

“I beg to differ, Toni.  You made a grave mistake tonight.  You underestimated both of them.”

Once again the food runner and Frederick appeared at the kitchen door with the tray of desserts. Frederick looked over towards the table with a concerned expression, and this time Toni waved him over. 

“I’ll ask Frederick to box up the desserts and we can share them with Rodney and Bea when we get back to their place.”

“I was wrong, Toni.”

“About what?  Did you assume Benedict would stick us with the bill?”

“Of course not!  Cumberbatch is a born and bred gentleman; so I wouldn’t have expected him to do that.  I was just so sure he was going to tell you to fuck off.”

“He wouldn’t dare tell a lady to fuck off.  As you just said, in spite of everything, Benedict is still a gentleman.”

 _I would never admit it; but I think I might be a little disappointed he didn’t tell her to go fuck off,_ thought Neil Saint James. _I sure as shit wanted to._

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I'm posting a day early because our plans changed.
> 
> 2\. Some of Benedict's dialog are actually his own words taken from an interview.
> 
> 3\. I thought it was time Donna called her parents out on their treatment of Benedict. 
> 
> 4\. Originally, both of Donna's parents were going to push the pre-nup; but I decided to make just Toni the villain this time.
> 
> 5\. Donna and I both adore Jude Law. :-D
> 
> 6\. The pre-nup is one of those "do-it-yourself" ones that I found online. I'm not familiar with the UK law; but from what I gather, a pre-nup drawn up in the US would not hold up. For the sake of this story, it won't. 
> 
> 7\. I have no idea what political party the real Benedict belongs to; but for this story, he is a member of the Labour Party.


	164. Chapter 164

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the Tate Dinner. Benedict surprises the Saint Jameses and himself during a tour of his flat on Monday.
> 
> Note: I’ll be using *************** for things happening at the same time.

 

 

“After Donna dressed her parents down, we left the Tate Modern and returned to her flat,” explained Benedict Cumberbatch.  “And that’s what happened in a nutshell so to speak.”

“How was Donna?” asked a concerned Wanda.  “Poor lamb must have been devastated after such a row.”

“Surprisingly not,” replied Benedict.  “I assumed she’d come home and have a good cry; but she didn’t.  Instead she went straight to Carly’s flat and had a rant about it.”

“Were you there as well?”

“Yeah.  Steve and I were sat in the lounge sipping a whiskey and watching the telly; whilst the girls and Colin retreated to the master suite.”

“That’s too bad Steve turned on the telly,” sighed Wanda.

“He turned it off as soon as we heard Donna shouting and swearing through the closed door.  Carly barely got a word in edgewise, but we could hear Colin’s voice a few times.  It sounded as if they both heartily agreed with Donna and praised her for telling off the parents. After she was done venting, we went upstairs; and Donna hasn’t uttered a word about it to me since.”

“Well, Donna is a credit to her drama teacher as I never noticed there was anything wrong between her and Toni at the engagement party.  You, on the other hand wear your heart on your sleeve, my son,” said Wanda.

“Out of curiosity, what did Steve have to say?” asked Timothy.  “He must have a lot of experience when it comes to dealing with those wankers.”

“I told him everything, and Steve thinks they’ll behave themselves now.  He also said that was the proper way to handle them; and he was chuffed that Donna had the bollocks to stand up for me and gave them hell.  I was so fucking proud of her myself.  I don’t recall ever seeing Donna so angry. It’s going to take a while for her to come completely around.  Antonia’s going to have to lay low and tow the line until she can totally worm her way back into Donna’s good graces.” 

Benedict was startled when both of his parents rose from their seats and began to spontaneously applaud him.  His face turned beet red.

“Bloody hell!  What’s this all about?”

“Bravo! Well done, Son!” exclaimed Timothy.  “I’m proud as fuck that you did the right thing and put them in their place.  I never would have signed that ridiculous pre-nup either.”

“It was time you gave them a good dressing down,” said Wanda.  “They deserved it – especially Toni.  The fact that Donna supported you and set them straight as well was a happy bonus.”

“The bastards earned it in spades,” added Timothy as he took his seat again. 

“How dare they be so presumptuous to think that you’d go along with signing a pre-nup!” fumed Wanda.

“That’s one of the problems - Antonia is _very_ presumptuous, Mum.  It’s all fine now.  I’ve taken her down a few pegs.  I’m confident that she’ll think twice before trying to fuck with me in the future.”

“I feel bad that Donna had to get involved,” fretted Wanda.  “It must have been very difficult for her.”

“Don’t feel bad, Mum.  It was imperative that Donna stand up to them.  Had she not, it would have set the scene for further future conflicts with her parents. I also don’t think it was _that_ difficult for her.  She was livid.  I wish you two had been there to witness it.”

Timothy snickered.  “Oh no, you don’t.  There’s nothing worse than when your mother’s knickers are in a twist.  She would have been right in the thick of it.  No one can ever say a cross word when it comes to you, Ben.  I give you that teacher – I forget his name – at Brambletye.  The one who said you were obnoxious in class.”

Benedict smiled at Wanda.  “I suppose Dad makes a good and valid point.  I’ve heard you when you’ve gone into your motherly defensive mode.  It’s not pretty.”

 _That’s right,_ thought Timothy. _He got to experience Wanda in all her glory at Quince the day we met up with Samantha Alden-Thomas.   Thank God he never knew the full story.  Let him forever think she was Wanda’s literary agent.  I often wonder why he’s never brought up the subject of the book.  
_

“Hell hath no fury like a mother scorned,” confirmed Wanda with a smile.  “It probably was for the best that neither of us was present.”

“Donna’s brother and sister-in-law took me aside at the engagement party to congratulate me on standing up to Antonia.  They knew nothing about the pre-nup and were surprised that she tried to talk me around into signing something that can’t be enforced here.”

“That’s because Toni is still entertaining hopes that you and Donna will move to New York one day.  Then she’d be able to enforce a pre-nup, should things not work out,” Said Timothy.

“Well, that’s _never_ going to happen, Dad.  Once I say ‘I do’ that’s for life. No matter what befalls us, I will ensure that Donna and I will make our marriage work.”

 _I do hope you remember those words if you ever find out about the plan,_ thought Timothy. 

“People can enter a marriage with good intentions of making it work; but sometimes things just don’t work out in real life,” Wanda reminded him.  “I’m living proof of that with one divorce under my belt.”

“Ah, but then you found your soulmate,” said Benedict, smiling at Timothy.

“You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time when you met Tabernacle,” smirked Timothy.  “I prefer to think of him as your starter in the meal of life.”

“How poetic you are, Tim!” gushed Wanda.  “I’m assuming you’re my main yes?” she inquired whilst batting her eyelashes at him flirtatiously.

“As well as the dessert,” Timothy smiled at her as he took her hand in his and kissed the back of it lovingly.

“This!” exclaimed Benedict, pointing at his parents.  “This is exactly what I want Donna and I to have – that deep, abiding love for each other that weathers the test of time no matter what happens!”

 _And if he ever finds out about the plan, that will be some test for them to weather,_ thought Timothy.   He felt Wanda squeeze his hand as if she knew what he was thinking.

“You and Donna have weathered a few bumpy patches already,” Wanda reminded him.   “You must always remember to try and work things out – no matter how cross one of you may be.” 

 _And I hope my son keeps those words in mind should he ever find out what we’ve done,_ thought Wanda.

“I think you’ll be fine, as long as you stay on this side of the Atlantic,” warned Timothy.  “It’s imperative for your happiness that you don’t live anywhere near them.”

“Donna and I have agreed to make our permanent home in London.  The brownstone will just be a holiday home for us.”

“It’s not easy being the offspring of Neil and Toni Saint James,” sighed Timothy.  “I’m glad I’m not!” 

“Now I can fully comprehend why you weren’t speaking to Toni after that,” commented Wanda, taking her seat again.  “I wouldn’t talk to the likes of her either – to think that she actually expected you to just roll over and sign that fucking worthless piece of paper.”

“I’m not giving her the silent treatment, Mum.  I’m just not actively initiating conversation with her, nor am I being especially friendly towards her.  I’m being neutral.”

Benedict suddenly burst out laughing.

“Care to share what’s so amusing?” queried Timothy with raised eyebrows.  “We could use a good giggle about now.”

“I was just thinking that I might actually prefer Neil’s company to hers.  How odd is that?”

“Very,” spat Wanda, pushing her sleeves up over her elbows.  “You know, Ben, speaking as a mother, I _can_ identify with Toni’s reasoning…”

 _I bet you can,_ thought Timothy.  _How many of your own schemes have been hatched in the name of doing something to aid Benedict?  Especially the ones involving your crusade to find the right woman, which I was unfortunately embroiled in.  
_

“…even though I don’t condone it.”

“Nor do I,” added Timothy.  “Toni’s behaviour was unwarranted to say the least.”

“You know I can understand that she wants to protect Donna’s assets from the evil son-in-law should things not work out,” said Benedict.  “It’s the way Antonia goes about it that’s irritating as fuck!”

“Stop saying you’re evil!” exclaimed Wanda, pounding the table with her fist.  “You know damn well you’re not!  I don’t know how Toni can think that way – it’s so obvious just how besotted you are with Donna and she with you!  You two are perfect for each other and get on so well for fucks sake.  Even that cow has to see it.”

“She’s got bollocks that one,” remarked Timothy sadly. “You’ll have to keep on your toes around her, Ben.”

“I fully intend to, Dad.”

“Tim, would you say my divorce from James was that ugly?”

“Yes.  It was very ugly.  This is a good example of how bad memories can fade in time,” Tim said to Benedict.

“I wish Antonia would fade away _now_ ,” snorted Benedict.

“Not likely,” scoffed Timothy.  “Wanda, my pet, did you forget Tabernacle wanted sole custody of Tracy because you were living in sin with an actor and thus a bad influence?”

Wanda nodded.  “I deliberately tried my best to forget that.  What I didn’t forget is how immensely supportive you were all through the court proceedings, my Love.  You accompanied me to court every day of the trial, for which I am eternally grateful.”

 _All two of them,_ thought Timothy with amusement.

“They’re just so bloody inconsistent,” sighed Benedict.  “Once I’m okay, then I’m not.  It’s making me crackers.”

“I’m surprised that you didn’t tell her to go fuck off,” commented Wanda with a sly smile.

“Hell no!  I was about to, but had reservations.  I thought of you two and what you would have expected me to do in that situation.”

Wanda and Timothy exchanged glances and smiled at each other knowingly.

“There’s no contest: We would have voted for telling her to fuck off,” chortled Timothy.

“Neither of us would have uttered a cross word, even though that’s not how you were brought up,” said Wanda.  “There are times, however, when only a ‘fuck off’ will do and this was one of them as far as I’m concerned!”

“This was an occasion when an exception would have been called for. Toni would’ve had it coming to her,” declared Timothy. 

“Well, I opted for telling her to sod off instead.  I felt that was somehow…kinder – not to mention she _is_ Donna’s mother.”

“You’re a good man, Benedict; and a credit to us,” smiled Timothy, patting Wanda’s hand.  “They’re lucky to have you for a son-in-law.”

“One day you’re going to show them what a gifted actor you are,” said Wanda with a toss of her head.  “And then they’ll have to eat their words.”

“Wouldn’t that be lovely?” Benedict held out his mug as Wanda got up to refresh their coffees.  “They did manage to behave themselves at the engagement party.  I was watching them closely, and they seemed to get on with everyone they spoke with.”

“I know!” Exclaimed Wanda in wide-eyed disbelief. “Everyone kept saying how charming they were, isn’t that right, Tim?”

“Yes, they were the toast of the Garrick Club that night,” agreed Timothy. “I had several people come up to me to say just how enchanting your future-in-laws were.  Your Aunt Amber was quite taken with Antonia until I pulled her aside and set her straight.”

“Antonia can be very amicable when she wants to be,” confirmed Benedict.  “I just wish she were like that all the time.   I don’t know if either of you noticed; but even Rodney Renfield was on his best behaviour.”  

“To be fair our actor friends gave him a wide berth,” retorted Timothy. 

“Who could blame them?” mused Wanda.  “After greeting him, I also steered clear of him.”

“His wife is actually quite a lovely person once you get to know her.  I noticed that they mostly socialized with Donna’s family,” reported Benedict.  “Again, I want to thank you both for hosting such an extraordinary party for us.  Donna and I were just over the moon. We couldn’t have imagined a more perfect evening.”

Wanda opened the refrigerator and looked back over her shoulder.  “Anyone fancy some more banoffee pie?  I think I might be able to cut a bit more out of it before it becomes too noticeable.”

Benedict and Timothy both nodded their agreement at her, as they watched her carefully cut and plate three more wedges from the pie. 

“It’s noticeable now,” observed Timothy.

“Hmmm…this is going to be tough to camouflage,” muttered Wanda.  “It no longer fits into the pie tin properly.”

“Nonsense!” said Benedict, getting a small round glass plate.  He took two wide spatulas and expertly transferred the pie onto the plate and smoothed the whipped cream over the top to hide where it had been cut.  “Do you have any toffee bits, Mum?”

“Do birds fly? Of course, I do!” 

Wanda removed a glass jar of toffee bits from the cupboard where she kept her baking supplies.   Benedict carefully sprinkled some over the top and stepped back to admire his handiwork. 

“That’s sheer genius!” Wanda laughed, clapping her hands together.  “Well done, Ben.”

“Voila!  Just make sure to tell them that you decided to make a mini pie because there will be so much food as is. The only person who will be the wiser is Donna as she’s caught on to my tricks,” giggled Benedict.

“By the way, Donna came to us whilst you were occupied with your cousins to also thank us for the party and tell us how much she enjoyed it,” reported Wanda. 

“I told Donna we were chuffed that she was able to set aside her feelings for the evening about it being held in a men’s club.  You’ll be pleased to hear that she was very gracious about it.  As a matter of fact, Donna apologized profusely for any undue aggravation she might have caused that put a damper on things during the planning,” said Timothy.

“I’m glad to hear she spoke to you,” said Benedict.  “Donna mentioned she was going to apologize.  She felt terrible after seeing all the trouble you two went to in order to throw such a lovely bash at the last minute. Donna really did love the club and raved about it afterwards.  She just wishes they would relax their rules to welcome women.”

“It was a pity that Neil and Toni had to skip Donna’s tree-trimming brunch the next day,” said Timothy through a mouthful of pie.

Benedict barked out a laugh.  “Surely you don’t mean that, Dad!”

“Of course not!  What do you take me for - a complete fool?”

“I thought it was quite a treat not to have them there,” giggled Wanda.  “Do you think Toni was really ill?”

“Not for a minute,” replied Benedict, forking up a bite of pie.  “I think she was still feeling embarrassed to be around me and Donna in such intimate surroundings.”

“So how did Monday really go?” asked Wanda in a low voice. “I couldn’t tell how sincere their behaviour was that night.  They appropriately gushed about Saint Mary’s and Kenwood House over dinner.  I thought they both seemed genuinely excited about the venues.”

“Truth be told, Mother:  It went fine and that broke the ice between Donna and her mother somewhat.  Neil and Antonia were both truly over the moon with the church and Kenwood House.  They had the opportunity to meet the Vicar and our wedding planner, who were both also smitten with the Saint Jameses.  I swear there are times when I think I must be imagining their rude and obnoxious behaviour.”

“Not to worry, Son. I’ll vouch for their being obnoxious and rude,” declared Timothy. “Whilst you and Donna were in the kitchen doing the washing up after dinner, they took it upon themselves to make sure we understood that as the Groom’s parents, we are expected to host a rehearsal dinner for the bridal party and immediate families the night before the wedding.”

“What fresh hell is this?” demanded Benedict angrily.  “Why did you wait until now to tell me?  Donna never said anything to me about a rehearsal dinner.”

“When have we had any time together to have a proper catch up until now? Apparently, it’s traditional in the States,” said Wanda.

“And this is England, where such a thing isn’t traditional,” retorted Benedict.  “Some families have them; but it’s not necessary, Mum.”

“It’s okay, Ben.  Your mother and I have discussed it; and feel it might not be a bad idea after all.  We’ll just invite the immediate families and the bridal party along with their spouses. It will give us all some extra time for the families to socialize.  The bridal party can get to know each other a bit – it’ll probably be great fun.”

“Are you sure you want to do this, Dad?  It’s not mandatory.”

“Yes, we’re positive.  As a matter of fact, we were thinking of asking to use your membership to book the Ivy Club for us,” said Timothy.  “We’ve been looking online, and they appear to have a nice set meal package that will fit the bill nicely.”

Benedict nodded.  “Of course, Dad.  I’ll be happy to book one of their private dining rooms; all I’ll need is a head count. Hopefully, by that time, Donna’s parents and I will be on better terms,” He joked.

“I wouldn’t count on it,” scoffed Wanda.

Benedict raised a hand.  “No, I’m being hopeful when I say that, based on what happened Monday afternoon.  I think the tide began to turn for the better when we took them to see my flat...”

 

 

Monday afternoon:

“This is such a quaint neighborhood!” exclaimed Toni Saint James as she walked side-by-side with Donna up Hearthstone Terrace towards Benedict’s apartment.  “The photographs didn’t do it justice,” she added in a whisper.

“Between the village and the residential streets, it’s like being in another time.  You tend to forget that you’re just a few minutes’ walk from the hustle and bustle of Hampstead High Street,” said Donna.

 _Antonia forgets my hearing is very good,_ thought Benedict.  _I wonder if she’s talking about Google Street photos or actually had the bollocks to send one of her team over here.  Hmmm…I could see her enlisting the help of Rodney Renfield.  He certainly knows the area and could do it during the day when most people are at work and Bob is asleep.  
_

“I feel like I’ve been transported back to Georgian times,” continued Toni.  “I love how they retrofitted the old gas street lamps and all the stained glass in the windows.  I bet it’s pretty here at night.”

“It is, Mom.  I find an evening stroll here at night is very romantic,” grinned Donna.  “I told Benedict that we must install window seats in the front bay windows in order to take advantage of the street view.  It would be so cozy to sit in the window on a rainy afternoon with a good book and a cup of tea.”

 

*************************************************

 

Benedict and Neil had been trailing behind the women in silence ever since they got off the bus.  The four had met early in the morning at Saint Mary Abbotts Church in Kensington and then set out to Kenwood House, after which they had stopped for lunch at the Flask Pub. Donna’s parents had enthusiastically approved of both venues and had chatted about the wedding all through the meal. 

Neil’s voice startled Benedict out of his reverie. “Nice area, though I bet parking is a bitch unless you’re lucky enough to have a garage.”

“Or possess a resident parking permit,” said Benedict.  “We’re fortunate enough to have both.  Not only is there a garage; but our house is entitled to two spaces in front of the house.”

“Do they enforce it?”

“Oh, yes – very strictly, I might add,” smiled Benedict.  “The traffic wardens make regular rounds; so if we have a visitor who’s going to be using one of the spaces, we have to give them a visitor permit to display on their dashboard.”

“I also didn’t realize it was so hilly in this area,” remarked Neil. 

“Well, this is the Parliament Hill section of Hampstead,” chuckled Benedict. “And it lives up to its name as you’ll soon see.”

Donna glanced back over her shoulder at her father and Benedict.  “We’re almost there, Dad.”

“Yes, I see it,” said Toni.  “I recognize Benedict’s car in the street.”

_For fucks sake!  Not only does she recognize my neighborhood but my car as well._

Finally, Donna came to a halt in front of the large brick house. 

“Here we are:  Home sweet home,” announced Benedict, removing his keys from his jeans pocket. 

“Isn’t it gorgeous?  Wait until we go inside, and you’ll see how much potential this house has,” said Donna with mounting excitement.

“It’s much larger than it looked in the photos, don’t you think, Neil?” asked Toni.

Neil nodded his agreement.  “I was prepared to see something more on the scale of those narrow row houses we passed earlier on Constantine Road. Photographs can be deceiving.”

Benedict led them up the steps to the front door.  “No, this was originally a one-family dwelling; but the man who owned it after the war decided to divide it up into rooms to let for extra income.  Then a couple bought the house as an investment and converted it into two flats to lease out.  They lived in a luxury flat in Belgravia. When they passed away, the son offered to sell the flats to Bob and I; and we jumped at the opportunity to be owners.”

“That was a very smart move,” said Toni as Benedict unlocked the door and pushed it open for them whilst he turned off the alarm.  “Please go on through.”

“Is an alarm system necessary in this area?” inquired Neil as he looked around the foyer.

“No,” replied Benedict.  “This is considered to be one of the safest areas in London.  The owner had it installed because he didn’t live on the premises and wanted to protect his investment.”

Donna picked up a note on the small able which was also piled with Benedict’s mail.  “Bob’s gone already.  He said to feel free to show Mom and Dad around his flat.”

“Shall we start the tour here then?” suggested Benedict.  “I’ll just run upstairs and get my key.  Be back in a moment.”  With that he scooped up his mail and took the stairs two at a time.

“It’s a good thing Cumberbatch is in good shape with all that uphill walking and those steep stairs,” quipped Neil.  “He also seems to have stayed quit smoking.  I don’t hear him wheezing.”

“Benedict’s definitely off the cigarettes,” Donna assured him.  “He hasn’t touched them since he did that play.”

“Muffin, you need to make sure he takes out a decent life insurance policy on himself,” said Toni in a low voice. 

“Why in the hell are you bringing this up now of all times?” demanded Donna angrily.  “Just when things were starting to calm down and now you want to start up with this nonsense!”

Neil stepped closer to Donna and Toni.  “Why I’ll be the first one to agree that your mother’s timing stinks, she’s not wrong.  This isn’t nonsense, Donna - This is serious. You need to be protected should something happen to Ben.”

“Good gravy!  I can’t believe you two!” hissed Donna. “Benedict’s in perfect health!  As a matter of fact, he recently had to have a checkup for _Sherlock_ so he could get a life insurance policy.  There’s no need to worry about me. He’s covered.”

“You mean the BBC and Hartswood Productions are covered in the event that anything should befall him,” explained Toni.  “That policy isn’t for you, Muffin.  It’s for the production companies.” 

“It’s normal protocol for movies and TV shows to have production insurance,” added Neil. 

“It definitely would have been in his contract that Benedict had to submit to a physical for insurance purposes.  This is done because if the star of a film or TV series is injured or dies unexpectedly, the producers stand to lose a lot of money if they aren’t insured. Having insurance gives them the option of seeking a replacement or scraping the project without suffering a major financial hit.  Being Benedict is the star of _Sherlock_ , it would be mandatory for him to be insured in order to cover any losses BBC and Hartswood might incur.”

Donna looked perplexed as she took in what her parents were telling her.  “Oh.  I see.  I thought it was just another employee benefit.  I automatically assumed they were doing this for him – like the New York Times provides a life insurance policy for you, Dad; and the London Tribune does for me,” Donna said to Neil, somewhat dismayed. 

Both Neil and Toni shook their heads. 

“Working for the New York Times and London Tribune is a lot different than an actor’s contract for a specific project,” said Neil. 

“I’ll make sure we look into it after we’re married.”

“Do it as soon as possible, Donna,” urged Toni.  “And make sure to have his lawyer draw up wills for both of you as well.  These are important things that need to be done.”

“For fucks sake!   Aren’t the lot of you a right cheery bunch!” exclaimed Benedict as he came down the stairs.  “Don’t worry, Antonia, I promise you that I won’t die a penniless beggar, nor do I have any intention of doing it soon.  I’ve been declared hale and hearty by both my own doctor and the one Hartswood sent me to; so I’m afraid Donna will be stuck with me for a long time to come.”

“I…I …didn’t mean it…” sputtered Toni, clearly embarrassed.

Benedict waved a dismissive hand at her as he went to Bob’s door and unlocked it.  “Oh, please stop making excuses, Antonia!  Of course you meant it!  If I were in your shoes, I’d probably feel the same way.”  He pushed the door open to reveal the flat beyond.  “Shall we go through?”

 

 

After touring the downstairs flat, garage and back garden; Benedict led Donna and her parents up the steep, narrow flight of stairs to his own flat. Donna took it upon herself to put their coats in the entry’s wardrobe whilst Benedict invited them into the combination lounge and dining area. 

“As you can see, the downstairs’ flat has an eat-in kitchen with French doors leading to the garden, whilst I possess a galley kitchen that leads nowhere,” joked Benedict. “However, I think the views from my dining room table  more than make up for it.”

“Was it originally set up this way?” inquired Toni, who was immediately drawn to the large picture window. 

“Haven’t a clue, but I’m happy that whoever did the layout up here thought to take advantage of such an extraordinary view and put the dining area out here, bless them,” replied Benedict. 

“Neil!  You have to see this view!  It’s even better than the one from the downstairs apartment!”

Neil joined his wife at the window and looked out over the Heath towards the London skyline.  “I have to agree that this view is breathtaking.”

“It’s even better from the roof terrace,” said Donna.

“I bet it is,” murmured Neil. 

“Wait until the sun goes down,” continued Donna.  “Then you can see the skyline all lit up.  It’s so pretty!”

“Would anyone fancy a cup of tea?” inquired Benedict.

“Yes, please,” replied Toni.  “I could go for something hot after that…bracing walk; provided your tea is decaf and you have skim milk and artificial sweetner to put in it.”

Benedict smiled thinly at her.  “I have both.”  _Thanks to your lovely daughter._

“I wouldn’t mind a cup of tea myself,” chimed in Neil.  “Whatever you have in the house is fine with me, Ben. I’m not as particular as Toni is about these things.”

“I’ll make the tea, Benedict; so you can show my parents around the place,” Donna offered.

_No you won’t, Sweetheart.  Your tea making skills have vastly improved, but I’m still the master.  I’m aiming to impress your parents – why?  I’ll never fully understand myself.  Oh, yes, you do, Benedict.  You’re a bloody people-pleasing tit is why!_

Benedict sidled over to Donna and whispered into her ear whilst her parents continued to marvel over the view.  “I’d like to ensure your parents have properly brewed tea, Donna.  Why don’t you give them the tour whilst I prepare it?”

Donna blinked at him in surprise.  “I thought you’d want to do it yourself.”

“Not really. You know your way around my flat just as well as I do; so off you go then,” he said briskly as his gave Donna a firm pat on the bottom.

“But…”

Benedict crinkled his nose and flashed a dimpled smile at her.  “ _Please_ , Darling.  You have to admit that I make a superior cup of tea and besides I’ve been with them all day.  I desperately need a little break.”

Donna rolled her eyes and kissed him.  “You know I can’t refuse when you pull that cute puppy face.”

Benedict grinned slyly as he side-eyed her.  “I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about, Love.”

“Oh, I think you know damn well!”

Benedict cleared his throat as he rubbed the back of his neck, causing Donna’s parents to turn around to face him.  “Erm, Donna’s volunteered to show you around whilst I tend to the tea.”

Toni and Neil exchanged looks and barely brushed against each other.  Then Neil shrugged.  “It’s fine with us, Ben.”

_They know I don’t fancy taking them through my rooms.  That’s alright.  Let Donna do it.  They’re her parents, not mine.  They also probably prefer to be alone with her. Besides I’ve got more important things to do.  
_

 

***********************************************

 

Neil and Donna waited impatiently outside the door to Benedict’s bathroom while Toni was using it.  Donna kept glancing down the hallway to catch a glimpse of Benedict at work in his tiny kitchen.

“What in the heck is taking Mom so long?  Do you think she’s sick?”

“No.  She’s fine.”

“You’re very confident.”

“That’s because I am.”

“You can’t see through doors that I know of.  I’m getting worried.”

“True, I can’t see through doors; but I know your mother well.  Let me ask you this:  What would _you_ do if you were in there alone, Muffin?”

“Pee.”

Neil rolled his eyes.  “Don’t tell me you didn’t take a good look around his bathroom the first time you were here to see how clean he kept it.”

Donna burst out laughing as her cheeks reddened slightly.  “Stop that, Daddy!  You must really think I’m a horribly nosy person.”

Neil nodded.  “As a matter of fact, I do, Sherlock.  You take after your mother in the snooping department even though she would vehemently deny it.”

Donna threw up her hands in surrender. “You’re right.  I did have a good look around the first time I was here and proclaim Benedict to be a decent housekeeper,” she whispered.

Neil consulted his watch and rapped on the door. “Toni, are you done conducting your inspection yet?”

The door opened inward, and Toni stepped out into the hallway.  She peered in the direction of the living room and put a finger to her lips.

“You two need to keep your voices down. I heard everything you said; and yes, the bathroom is spotless.  It could use a make-over; but I wouldn’t’ hesitate to use it.”

“Especially since you always have seat covers and your travel size can of Lysol with you, Mom,” teased Donna.  “Now, the next stop on our tour is the master bedroom; which boasts a fireplace and fantastic view as well.”

“Wait.  What’s in here?” asked Toni crossing over to the pocket doors that screened Benedict’s laundry alcove from view.

“That’s what passes for the laundry room.”

“I didn’t see a laundry room downstairs,” observed Neil.

“Bob’s washer dryer is in the kitchen, which is the norm here.”

“Rod and Bea have a separate laundry room,” noted Neil.

“That’s because they remodeled their home to include one,” said Toni.  “Now, let’s see what Benedict is hiding behind the sliding door!”

_Crap!  I really wish Mom wouldn’t look in there.  One never knows what one is going to find.  I pray Benedict doesn’t have all his dirty laundry piled up on top of the washer._

Before Donna could reach out and stop her, Toni slid open the door.  There was a small washer and dryer; stacked on top of each other.  A slightly pungent scent wafted out into the hallway, causing her parents to frown.

“Oh, this looks like the one Pa has in his condo in Florida,” said Neil, trying to ignore the odor.  “It takes a whole day just to do the laundry.”

“Those are better than what the man downstairs has.  Bea said those washer dryer combos aren’t nearly as efficient as the freestanding ones,” said Toni. 

Donna’s eyes shot to the two plastic laundry baskets that Benedict kept on the small, narrow table that was meant for folding.   One was empty and the other was overflowing with various articles of clothing. 

“It looks like Benedict didn’t have time to put these away yet.” _Oh, God, that’s the basket his keeps the dirty laundry in!  I need to get them out of here, so I can spray some deodorizer._  

“Shit!  I would hope not!” cried Toni, covering her nose.  “I could smell those dirty socks the minute I slid open the door, Muffin!” 

“Is your nose stuffed?” inquired Neil with a frown as he stood in the doorway.  “I can smell it from here.  Dirty socks and dried sweat.”

“Benedict likes to go running in the mornings.”

Neil held his nose.  “How about opening that window so it has a chance to air out?”

Donna opened the window and almost gagged when a whiff of the offending odor filled her nose as she walked past the basket. 

 _Ugh!_   _That’s definitely Ben’s dirty laundry_.  _I wonder when he last did the wash?  It smells as if it’s been sitting here for a while.  Ewww._

“Benedict’s been so busy lately; I guess he hasn’t found time to do it yet.”

“Well he must be _really_ busy because it smells like it’s been weeks to me,” snickered Neil. 

“Oh, Dad!  It could be worse, right? At least Benedict doesn’t shove his dirty laundry under the bed!” giggled Donna.  

“I sure as hell hope not!”  Snorted Neil.

“Well, we’re about to find out,” scoffed Toni as she turned on her heel and headed in the direction of the master bedroom.  “It’s too bad there’s only one bathroom in these apartments; but you can always add more.”

 _Oh, God, please let all of his stuff be in the closet!  Oh, SHIT!  I hope he didn’t leave the bread warmer under the bed – there will be no explaining that one to them,_ thought Donna in a panic as she slid the pocket door shut.

“Is that a printer I hear?” inquired Neil as he was about to follow Toni into the master bedroom. 

“Printer?  Why would Benedict be printing something?”

“I don’t know.  He’s your fiancé. I thought he was making us tea.”

“So did I,” said Donna as she headed towards the living room.   “Be right back.”

 

***************************************************

 

Benedict had just finished laying the table for tea and stood back to admire it.

_Well, Benedict, this is as good as it gets; and it looks pretty damn impressive.  Thank you, Mum, for buying me these lovely table linens as a house-warming gift._

An audible click notified Benedict that his induction kettle had automatically switched off as the water inside had come to a boil.  He glanced over impatiently towards his desk to see that the printer was still hard at work.

 _For fucks sake!  I must buy myself a better printer.  This motherfucking thing is taking an age to spit out a few lousy pages!  I could just heave it out the window!_  

Benedict closed his eyes, took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  _Practice patience, Benedict.  Just take deep breaths and focus on remaining calm.  
_

The sound of Donna’s voice made him jump as his ice blue eyes opened to see her standing in the entrance to the lounge.

“What are you doing?  I thought you were making tea.”

 Benedict looked down to see that the printer had finally stopped.  _Finally!_

“I am.  As you can see, the table is laid and I’m waiting for the kettle to boil.”

Donna regarded him with a raised eyebrow as her eyes roamed over his desk.  The letter opener lay on top of open and discarded envelopes whose contents appeared to be scattered on the desk top.

 “You’ve been reading your mail.  I recognize those envelopes from when we came in.”

“And what of it?” retorted Benedict, placing a plate of biscuits on the table.

“Well…I don’t know…my dad heard the printer, so I became curious.”

“You’re a very nosy girl.”

“And you’re not?”

“No,” he replied with mock seriousness.  “The last time I looked I had a willy, which I’d be more than happy to show you later in case you don’t believe me.”  With that Benedict winked and flashed a devilish smile at her.

“You’re such a wise ass.  By the way, the table does look very pretty.  Are those the napkins…”

“Erm…where are your parents, Donna?”  Wondered Benedict as he cast a worried glance down the hallway.

_OH SHIT!!!!  I LEFT THEM ALONE IN BENEDICT’S BEDROOM!_

“Crap!  I left them in your bedroom.”

“Not the best idea you ever had, _Sweetheart_.  Please don’t let them have a look through my wardrobe or drawers.  There are things in there that are highly personal and not meant for their eyes.”

_Like your emergency pack of cigarettes, our sex toy collection, your porn magazines that you don’t know that I know you’ve got stashed in a box in the back of your closet. Oh, dear, sweet Benedict, it’s probably too late for that!  I’m sure Mom’s already mentally cataloged everything! Damn, damn, damn!  
_

 

**********************************************************

 

“Look what I just found,” Toni said to Neil while holding up a pack of Marlboro Lights that she found in the top dresser drawer. “I thought Benedict stopped smoking.”

“Toni!  Please put that back and stop snooping in the man’s drawers!”  Hissed Neil.   “You’re not one of your private investigators out on a case.  You’re a guest in your future son-in-law’s home.  Think how humiliated you’ll be if he were to come in here and catch you.”

“I’ll simply tell him my nose was running, and I was looking for Kleenex.”

“Who in the fuck keeps Kleenex in their drawers?”

Toni rolled her eyes at him.  “I think it’s a plausible excuse.”

“Not when there’s a box in plain sight on his nightstand.  Now, for the last time, please put those back where you found them.”

“One minute.  I just want to see if they’re low tar or not.”

“They’re low tar, which is why they’re called _Marlboro Lights_.  Are you next going to inventory the pack and tell me how many he’s smoked?” growled Neil.

“There’s no need.  The pack hasn’t been opened.”

The door to the bedroom abruptly opened to reveal a panic-stricken Donna.  She stared at the pack of cigarettes in her mother’s hand and the open drawer.

“Mom!  Please put those back where you found them!” snarled Donna in a low voice.  “How could you?  What if it had been Benedict instead of me just now?”

“He’d be listening to one of the lamest excuses in history,” muttered Neil.

“I thought Benedict no longer smokes,” said Toni with a raised eyebrow.

“He doesn’t.  Sometimes he needs a puff or two and keeps these handy.”

Toni sighed deeply and shook her head in disappointment.  “That’s why you need to put life insurance on him, Muffin.  He’s not a good risk if he’s still smoking – even once in a while.”

Donna grabbed the pack from her mother and returned them to the drawer, shutting it with a bang.

“So what was Cumberbatch printing?” asked Neil.

“I have no idea,” snapped Donna.  “Nor do I care at this moment.”

“This room is so much nicer than that sparse, cold-looking living and dining room,” observed Toni, walking about.  “Even the Christmas tree and fireplace don’t help much to give it a cozy feel.  Doesn’t the man believe in carpeting and window treatments?”

“However, it does look like he had some help decorating this room,” observed Neil.  “As your mother said, it’s a far cry from those austere furnishings in the living room.”

“He did have help,” confirmed Donna with a smile.  “I take it you both approve of the décor in here, Mom?”

“Oh, yes!  This room is very tastefully done…it feels very cozy and restful.” Toni walked over to the free-standing closet and began to open the door. “Do you realize this place doesn’t have any built-in closets to speak of?”

“Stay out of the closet, Toni,” warned Neil sharply.  “You don’t need to do an inventory of his clothes.”

“There’s just the usual stuff in there, Mom:  jeans, pants, shirts, suits, jackets, shoes – nothing out of the ordinary.”  _Well, most of the time half of it is on the floor of the closet, which would freak you out.  Thank God my honey made the bed this morning!_

Toni felt the material of the duvet as she appraised it.  “Was it that woman he used to date who helped him with the decorating?”

“Olivia?  No, Mom.  It wasn’t her. As a matter of fact, I…”

“No!  I wasn’t referring to Olivia Poulet,” snickered Toni. “I’ve seen her photographs.  She clearly has no taste. I’m talking about the interior designer he was involved with:  Anna James.”

“Nope.  It was me.  I helped Benedict decorate this room,” Donna announced proudly.

“You did a great job, Muffin!” said Toni.  “I wish Benedict would let you give the living room and the bathroom makeovers as well.”

“Rome wasn’t built in a day, Mom,” laughed Donna.  “We plan on doing one room at a time.”

“They won’t need to do any more redecorating, Toni, if they plan on gutting the house and starting over,” said Neil.

“That’s right, Dad.  We’ll be remodeling the downstairs living space first.  Then we’ll take it from there.  It all depends on how far the money goes.  This apartment is fine for now; and besides we can always stay in mine until the end of next year if we need to.”

“True.  Oh, I love how you can see the view of London from the bed!” declared Toni.

“I take it the other bedroom has a view of the street,” commented Neil.

Donna nodded.  “Yes, it does.  Benedict uses it mostly for storage and for his art projects right now; but we’re going to fix it up.”

Neil narrowed his eyes at Donna. “What art projects?”

“Benedict is fond of drawing and painting when he has time.”

“Really?  Did you know this, Toni?”

Toni ran her hand over the nightstand closest to her to check for dust and grimaced. “No.”

“Ha!  See, you don’t know everything about Benedict,” laughed Donna.

“I can tell you he’s not into dusting,” quipped Toni with a sour look on her face.  “Perhaps he should invest in a feather duster.”

Donna ignored the barbed comment and continued. “Benedict happens to be quite talented and even won a partial scholarship to Harrow based on his artwork.”

“Oh, that’s right,” said Toni offhandedly.  “I thought it was for drama.  Anyway, so what’s under here?” she inquired as she lifted up the dust ruffle and peered underneath the bed. “I see storage boxes…and…hmmm…what the heck…”

“Toni!”  Neil crossed the room and batted her hand away.  “You’ve gone too far now.  We still haven’t seen the other bedroom room and roof terrace.”

“Mom, I expect you to respect Benedict’s privacy,” snapped Donna.  “Dad’s right; you haven’t even seen the second bedroom or loft and roof terrace yet.  The view from the terrace is spectacular!”

Toni straightened up and stared at Donna as Neil started to exit the room. “Why on earth does he have an electric bread warmer underneath the bed?”

Neil suddenly appeared interested and returned to where his wife was standing.  “Really?”

“See for yourself, Dear.”

Neil lifted the dust ruffle and began to laugh.  “This is one of the strangest things I’ve ever seen underneath a bed.”

“It’s not strange at all, Dad.  There was no room in the kitchen, so we decided to store some of our engagement gifts underneath the bed for when we have a larger kitchen with room to store and use them.”

“Then why is it out of its box and plugged in?” asked Neil.

“Hells bells!  Now, you know our shameful secret,” came Benedict’s deep baritone from the doorway.  “Donna and I are fond of eating our breakfast in bed, and it keeps the toast and muffins warm.”

Donna noticed that her parents didn’t seem completely convinced.

“It looks like there are washcloths in it,” observed Neil.

“Yes, I store my extra flannels in there when we’re not using it for food.  As you can see, this flat is frightfully short on storage space; so I have to make use of every millimeter I can find,” chuckled Benedict. “So now that this pressing issue has been sorted: Anyone fancy some tea and biscuits?”

 

 Swindon:

“Hells bells, Ben!  I thought you said things seemed to be getting better,” declared Wanda.  “How dare that cow go looking through your things?”

“Toni Saint James does whatever she pleases, Pet.  And for the record, Ben, it doesn’t sound like much of an improvement to me either,” added Timothy. 

“You haven’t heard the rest of it yet,” said Benedict.  “Whilst we were in the midst of having tea, they brought up the topic of our wedding gift…”

 

 

“Care for more tea, Neil?” inquired Benedict politely. “Antonia?”

“Please,” Replied Neil, holding out his cup.  “Donna’s right; you do make a superior cup of tea.”

“I’m fine, thank you,” said Toni.  “I don’t want to fill up on tea and cookies, even though they’re delicious.”

“Well, I wouldn’t mind some more cookies,” said Donna, studying the plate of ginger nuts, shortbread with candied violet bits and Florentine lace cookies dipped in dark and milk chocolate.  “I think another milk chocolate Florentine is in order.”

“The ones with the bits of candied violet are my favorites,” said Neil.

“I remember when Grandpa Colin used to bring them home from his trips back here,” said Donna, munching on a cookie.  “Carly and I used to collect the Fortnum and Mason tins.”

"The scones are good, too," said Neil.  "I hate that we can't get good clotted cream at home."

"The scones are from Gail's bakery," said Benedict.  "I'm rubbish at baking."

"I think one more ginger nut," said Donna. 

“Don’t forget to save room for Wanda’s dinner later on, you two!” Toni reminded them.  “I’m sure we’ll be in for a treat.”

“Oh, that’s right!” said Donna, putting down the half-eaten cookie.  “I’m sure Wanda’s pulling out all the stops tonight.”

“I hope not,” said Neil.  “Toni and I would be happy with a sandwich.”

 _As long as all the condiments are served on the side for your wife,_ thought Benedict.

Benedict carefully poured the steaming hot tea into Neil’s cup and topped up Donna’s and his own.  “There will be no sandwiches served tonight, as all the stops have already been pulled,” he laughed. “Mum’s been very anxious about cooking dinner for you.”

Toni frowned.  “Do you mean anxious in a good or bad way?”

_Fuckity, fuck, fuck!  I need to turn on my mouth filter.  Dad said Mum’s been in an outright tizzy for days making sure everything is going to be perfect for tonight.  The poor woman is a right nervous wreck._

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck.  “Erm…she’s anxious in a good way, of course.  I meant that Mum has been looking forward to having you both over for a proper meal rather than just nibbles and drinks.” _Which I’m sure she’ll be serving as well prior to the actual meal._

Toni visibly relaxed and smiled.  “Oh, good; you had me worried that you meant anxious in a bad way, Benedict.  I would never want Wanda to feel intimidated by us.”

_Well, she is.  Poor Dad has been polishing silver and making sure their best china and crystal are all in order.  He said he’s exhausted from ironing the serviettes and tablecloth over and over._

“We’re just family coming over for dinner,” added Neil. “I hope Wanda hasn’t gone through any trouble.”

_Dad said Mum wound up ordering a Hertfordshire prime rib beef roast from the butcher that cost a small fortune._

“I asked her Saturday night to keep it simple,” interjected Toni. 

_There’s no chance of that happening.  So far Mum’s making the beef roast and her famous roast chicken with the tarragon cream sauce, stuffed Yorkshire puddings, cauliflower cheese, honey-roasted parsnips and carrots and sautéed greens.  When I spoke with her this morning, she was busy kneading dough for brioche rolls and had already made a custard-sherry trifle and a banoffee pie._

“Mum’s idea of simple tends to be a bit over-the-top by most people’s standards.”

“When she asked what our preferences were, I asked her to make whatever she normally would on a weekday night,” said Toni.

_Mondays are usually reserved for some sort of pie made with whatever leftover meat Mum had from Sunday lunch.  
_

“We told her it wasn’t necessary to make appetizers or anything like that – just the main course is fine with us,” added Neil.  “I would hate to think she’s been slaving over a hot stove all day just for us!”

_It may not be necessary to you, but it is to Mum.  She’s serving a composed salad of mesculun, roasted pears, candied pecans and Stilton with ginger-pear vinaigrette as a starter.  And don’t worry: she’s enlisted Dad’s help; so she’s not the only one working like a dog to impress the fuck out of you two._

Neil added a splash of whole milk to his tea and stirred it in.  “As I’m sure Donna has told you, Ben; Toni and I have given each of our children and their spouses a Disney Vacation Club Membership as a wedding present.  You and Donna, of course, are no exception.”

“Yes, Benedict knows all about it, Dad,” confirmed Donna. 

Benedict could see that she appeared nervous. Then he felt her take his hand underneath the table and give it a quick squeeze, which he returned for reassurance.

 _Yes, and Benedict thinks it’s a tremendous waste of money that could be better spent on other things – such as renovating this house,_ thought Benedict. 

“There’s no better vacation spot on earth for families,” said Toni.  “Where else can you get beautiful weather, world-class entertainment, gourmet food and shopping – all in a family-friendly atmosphere?”

 _Oh, I could name a dozen destinations off the top of my head that I rather go on holiday to,_ thought Benedict. _  
_

“To be honest, Antonia, I can think of…” _  
_

Benedict felt Donna nudge his foot underneath the table as a cue to shut up. 

“The weather is hellacious in the summer, Mom,” Donna pointed out.  “Hot, humid and there’s afternoon thunderstorms.”

“It doesn’t rain _every_ day, Muffin,” retorted Toni.

“Do you forget that I spent several summers there on the College Intern Program? It rained almost every afternoon like clockwork .”

“It’ll be nice to know that you always have a paid-for vacation home for the next fifty years,” said Neil.

_The next fifty years…I’ll be in my eighties for fucks sake!_

“All you do is make a phone call and reserve a unit whenever you have some free time.  You don’t have to go for an entire week at a time.”

_When am I going to have the time and money to fly to the States every time we fancy a holiday?   Hmmm…Donna did say one time that we can use the points at other resorts besides the Orlando one._

“Anyway, we were wondering if you two have settled on which resort you’d like to call your home resort,” Neil continued. 

“Well, to be honest, Mom and Dad…” Began Donna hesitantly.

“Oh!  Before I forget,” interrupted Toni.  “I was chatting with your lawyer’s wife at the engagement party.”

“Suzanne,” said Benedict.

“Yes, Suzanne.  Suzanne was telling me that it cost her less to take their family to Disney World in Orlando for two weeks instead of going to Euro Disney for one week!  Imagine that.”

“I can certainly imagine that,” said Benedict.  “Dennis and Suzanne have three children; so I suppose it makes sense for them.”

Donna cleared her throat. “Benedict and I don’t wish to seem to be ungrateful, but that’s an awful lot of money to spend for a timeshare.”

“It’s our pleasure, Muffin,” said Neil.  “We know how much you love Disney, and this way you and Ben will be able to join us on our extended family vacations.”

_I am truly blessed.  Christ on a crutch!  I’m terrified at the thought of spending every motherfucking holiday with them.  Donna needs to come out with it already.  
_

“Think of the money you’ll save,” added Toni.  “It will just cost you airfare and food.  If we buy in before the end of the month; Disney will throw in seven years’ worth of length of stay passes.”

“Park hoppers,” chimed in Neil, grinning at his daughter. 

_Bloody hell!   SEVEN YEARS?????  I have to go seven years in a row??? No.  That’s not happening!  For fucks sake, has Donna lost her tongue?_

Donna's hazel eyes widened. “Seven years’ worth?” she repeated, clearly impressed.  “Wow!  Park hoppers? That _is_ a fantastic deal!  They used to just give free Annual Passes; but seven years’ worth of park hopper tickets!  Holy cow!  What a bargain!  Did you hear that, Ben Honey?” 

_Yes, I heard it; and I think I want to hop right out of this room.  
_

“Those tickets cost a fortune alone; and they’re including the park hopper option, which allows you to go to more than one park in a day.  Good gravy!  That is one sweet deal, Dad.” _  
_

_It’s a sour deal for me.  I’d be lucky if I could keep up with them in one park let alone more. I sense Donna’s caving in.  Her eyes are as big as bloody saucers.  She wants this badly.  
_

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck.  “Erm…what happens if we don’t use these points?”

“Oh, you can bank them,” replied Donna. 

“You can even add on points at a future date so you can have longer stays,” explained Toni.

“For example we bought Carly and Steve more points for their anniversary,” said Neil.  “So now they have enough to stay in a one bedroom unit for three weeks.”

_Jolly good for Carly and Steve.  They’re into the whole Disney vacation scene.  I’m not.  I’d rather go off and explore the world with Donna; but how am I going to do that praytell?  I’m lucky we’ll have money to take a long weekend in Cornwall or Edinburgh.  Well, there’s no need to worry as I’ve got plenty of work lined up for this year.  I doubt there will be any time for holidays._

“Neil and I will start you off with enough points to stay two weeks in a one bedroom unit.”

“Of course, if you find you don’t use your points one year, you can always rent them out,” said Neil.  “There are always people who are looking to stay in a deluxe resort; but can’t afford it so they rent points.”

 _Adam was moaning just recently that he and Alice would love to take Jon to Disney when he’s older; but the cost was prohibitive. However, with the timeshare, I could make it happen for them.  I could give them one of our weeks._                  

“Some people even sell their ownership as they find they don’t go as often once their kids are grown,” continued Neil. 

“I wouldn’t advise selling, because you’d never get the investment back,” said Toni.  “Couples can still have a great time without the kids – look how many times Dad and I go alone; but then again it’s up to you two.”

 _Did he say we could sell our ownership?  Yes, he did!  So, I’m not locked into this for the next fifty years of my life.  Thank God!_ _We can sell it off and use the money to remodel the house, which is paramount_. 

Benedict suddenly had an image of the times he had gone with his parents and then once alone with Adam right before he went to Tibet for his gap year.

_I’ll never forget how Mum screamed on Space Mountain and wanted to go right back on as soon as the bloody ride was over. Hahaha! Actually, I wouldn’t mind having another go on Space Mountain or The Tower of Terror. Adam and I had such a blast that week. It’s been an age since I’ve last gone there.  I’d fancy reliving all that with Donna._

“I’ve always loved the Animal Kingdom Lodge,” Sighed Donna longingly.  “However…”

_I’m a tit for putting Donna up to this.  I need to remember my manners.  I’m being completely selfish.  It’s suddenly so obvious that Donna really doesn’t want to do this.  She wants that timeshare so badly. I never should have pushed her on asking her parents for the money instead.  Mum and Dad would be appalled at my behaviour.  I feel like a piece of shit. How can I deny Donna something that would make her so happy?  How can I deny myself something that I think I might actually want now?  This is one time when I’m certain that Neil and Antonia have no ulterior motive other than they want to do something nice for us.  They are sure that Donna and I will use the timeshare over the years and enjoy it. Hmmm…Donna and I could go with Adam, Alice and Jon for a week._

Neil and Toni both exchanged concerned glances and shifted their gaze towards Benedict, who squirmed in his chair and began to rub his thigh. He imagined the look of sheer disappointment on their faces when Donna told them that they didn’t want the timeshare; but wanted the money instead to redo the house.  

_They won’t understand.  They’ll feel hurt that we rebuffed their gift.  Asking for money no longer seems practical…it seems very uncouth suddenly.  Also, will Donna hold this against me?  Even though she agreed it was a brilliant idea to use the money for something practical – did she really mean it?  Her eyes lit up when Neil told her about those bloody hopping park passes. I can’t let her do something that I should have been man enough to do myself.  I can’t let her do this period.  Why am I suddenly waffling?  Because deep down inside you know you want it, Benedict._

“Is something wrong?” inquired Neil with a slight frown.

Benedict suddenly had a vision of his parents at Disney World with him and Donna and their children all dressed in Mickey Mouse t-shirts.  How happy Wanda and Timothy looked in his vision…buying his children Mickey ice cream lollies and everyone wearing mouse ear hats…riding Small World and watching the animals from their room.  Then the realization that his parents were getting older hit him.

_I just don’t have the heart to do it to Donna or her parents.  They are all so excited about this, and it would be rude to refuse a gift or worse – tell them what we want.   We’ll keep the fucking thing for a few years and see if we use it.  I suppose if I’m away busy working, Donna could always go and be with them. It would be nice to have it so when we have kids we can take family holidays with them. I could let Mum and Dad use it.  I’m sure Tracy, Derrick and the girls would fancy a holiday there. I suppose it won’t kill me to spend a couple of extended holidays with Donna’s family.  Marriage is all about compromise. Who knows perhaps one day, I’ll come around and learn to love it as much as they do. I certainly don’t hate the place.  If it happens we don’t make use of it, then we’ll sell it._

Neil leaned forward and waved his hand in front of Benedict’s face.  “Hello, Ben?  Are you in there?”

“What’s wrong?” asked Toni with mounting concern in her brown eyes.

“I wouldn’t say anything is wrong, Mom,” began Donna.  “It’s just that Benedict and I were discussing the Vacation Club…”

“No. No. Nothing is wrong at all. What Donna was going to say was that we were having a difference of opinion as to which resort to use for our home base.  I was driving her bonkers waffling between the new Bay Lake Towers at the Contemporary and the Animal Kingdom Lodge.  She’s wild for the animals; and I was thinking that the convenience of staying in a monorail resort would be better – especially with kids.  However, in the end the Animal Kingdom Lodge is hands down choice,” said Benedict in a rush, as he winked at Donna and squeezed her hand underneath the table.  “How could you not fancy waking up to seeing a giraffe grazing outside your room in the morning?”

In the years to come, Benedict Cumberbatch would always recall the look of sheer surprise coupled with pure joy on his fiancee’s face and those of her parents and know deep in his heart that he had done the right thing.

 

 

 

  

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. The comments re Wanda's divorce all stem from my imagination. I have no knowledge of went wrong with her first marriage.
> 
> 2\. My research turned up that the Rehearsal Dinner is far more traditional and popular in the US than in London, but its not unheard of.
> 
> 3\. The neighborhood of this version of Benedict doesn't exist. It's location and description is completely fictional. 
> 
> 4\. I have no idea as to how life insurance on actor's work, but I know it exists. The scene is based on a little online research coupled with a lot of fiction to fit the story line. 
> 
> 5\. I'm only slightly familiar with how the Disney Vacation Club works. The rest is made up - no one gets seven years' worth of free tickets. My best friend got one year's worth - many year's ago when she and her husband bought in.
> 
> 6\. Yes, there's a lot of waffling between Donna and Benedict as to whether or not they are going to graciously accept Neil and Toni's wedding gift. I wanted to show them both being conflicted as what is the right thing to do. They both want to remodel the house badly and realize that money could help them offset some of the expense and enable them to do more things. Donna finds herself wanting to please Benedict as she knows he's not as into Disney as she is.; and she also wants to do what she thinks is practical. However, deep down inside Donna really wants that timeshare, and Benedict knows it. Finally, he comes to the realization that it would be selfish to refuse the gift and he manipulated Donna, which wasn't right. Then Benedict actually surprises himself by warming to the idea. I wanted to show the not-so-nice side.
> 
> 7\. I have an acquaintance in London who swears that it is cheaper to vacation at Disney World in Orlando vs Euro Disney. She can stay twice as long because they offer UK residents special deals!
> 
> 8\. Happy Father's Day to all who celebrate!


	165. Chapter 165

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Benedict and Neil have two talks, resulting in their surprising each other and themselves. Wanda is grilled by Barrister Ben.
> 
> Note: I’ll be using *************** for things happening at the same time.

 

Benedict Cumberbatch and Neil Saint James stood side-by-side on Benedict’s roof terrace, gazing out at the London skyline in the distance.  After finishing the tour of his flat, Benedict had suggested that Donna and her mother go downstairs and use his laptop.  The pretense was for them to make a Skype call to the salesperson Toni was in touch with at Disney to see if they could still purchase points at the Animal Kingdom Lodge.  Benedict calculated it would give him plenty of time to have a private discussion with his future father-in-law without interruption. 

“My daughter was right, Ben.  This is a spectacular view,” observed Neil as his eyes swept the horizon.  “Not that the views from all the other windows in the back of the house aren’t; but it’s especially gorgeous from up here.” 

“Now, I hope you can understand why Donna and I are so over-the-moon about making this our permanent home.” 

“I do.  This house does have lots of potential.” 

“Not to mention the neighborhood is one of the most coveted in London,” added Benedict. “Everything we need is right here:  brilliant shopping and dining options, reputable schools…” 

“What’s this about schools?  I thought you’d surely want to send your sons to Harrow,” interrupted Neil. 

“Well, you thought wrong, Neil.  I would never send my children to a same sex boarding school.” 

“You came home on weekends and holidays from what I gathered.” 

“True.  However, I felt I was never on a par with my friends who went to a regular school.  Even though the education I received was superb, it lacked in the proper socialization needed to feel really comfortable when to comes to interacting with the opposite sex.” 

“I have a feeling Donna wouldn’t want to ship her children out to a boarding school.” 

Benedict gave a short laugh and nodded.  “True that.  She doesn’t fancy the idea; but we’ve got plenty of time before we have to make any decisions.” 

“You also need to have the children first.” 

“Yeah, and we will as soon as I can talk Donna around into starting to try and conceive – after the wedding of course.” 

“Of course,” said a bemused Neil. 

“Did I say something amusing?” 

“Don’t automatically assume that you’ll be able to talk Donna into doing anything before she’s ready to, Ben.  She can be very stubborn that way.” 

“And I can be very persuasive.” 

Neil said nothing in response.  

“Anyway, as I as saying; Hampstead also has the most brilliant farmer’s market on Saturday’s, several houses of worship, a fine hospital and easy access to public transport.  As you saw, we’re close to several bus stops in addition to the tube.  This house is situated on Parliament Hill, in the heart of the area.  The hustle and bustle of the business district is just a short walk from here, yet it feels as if we’re in our own little oasis of tranquility in this neighborhood. What more does one need?”  He waved his hand expansively to take in the area before them. 

“Money - and a good deal of it to make your dreams for this house happen.” 

Benedict chuckled.  “Isn’t that the truth yes?” 

Neil nodded as he looked around the roof terrace.  He smiled at the mechanical reindeer, which was grazing in the glow from the white fairy lights. 

“The Christmas decorations are a nice touch – very whimsical and unexpected.” 

“This was the first year I bothered decorating up here.  I did it to cheer Donna as she was feeling rather homesick.  She mentioned missing going to see these over-the-top house decorations.” 

“She was talking about Dyker Heights, which is a residential area in Brooklyn where the home owners go all out with the light displays and motorized decorations.  Many of them hire professional companies to do the actual decorating according to Steve’s sister, Grace; who lives there. We’ve made it a tradition to go and see it every year.  It’s quite spectacular and crowded as can be.” 

“I suppose this meager display could never hope to compete with the sound of that then.” 

“It was still very thoughtful of you.  Some things are done differently here; but Donna will get used to it.  You just need to give her time to completely adjust.” 

“I’m sure next Christmas will be very different with the blending of our traditions,” smiled Benedict.  

“Think of this year as your learning curve.” 

“By the way, are you feeling cold at all?  We could go back inside if you are.” 

“No, I’m fine.  This wool sweater is like a horse blanket,” laughed Neil. 

The men stood looking out at London in companionable silence for several minutes.  Finally, it was Neil who broke the silence. 

“Did you send my wife and daughter downstairs on purpose, Ben?” 

“Yeah, there are a couple of things that I wanted to discuss with you in private, Neil.” 

“I’m glad you did, as I had something I wanted to talk to you about in private as well.” 

“You go first,” said Benedict.  “Please.” 

“Okay.  When you were in the kitchen and Donna was in the bathroom, Toni and I had a brief discussion about the Disney Vacation Club Membership.   We both realize that you agreed to it solely to please Donna.” 

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck.  “Erm…well…to be honest…” 

Neil held up a hand.  “Let me finish, Ben.  Toni and I also realize that you’re too polite to refuse a gift outright.  That would come across as ungrateful; and we know damn well that your parents brought you up with fine manners. We could see that you both were struggling with internal issues that neither of you seemed keen on expressing.  Toni and I didn’t fall off the turnip truck yesterday; so we think we have an idea as to what was going on.” 

_Fuckity fuck fuck!  They correctly surmised that I was against the Vacation Club; but I’m not now!  
_

“Therefore, I’m going to make this easy for both of you.  If you’d rather have the money that we set aside for the timeshare, it’s yours to spend on whatever you two desire.” 

A strong pang of guilt washed over Benedict at Neil’s words, causing him to cringe inwardly. 

_Christ!  Neil says exactly what I had hoped he would say; and I find myself not at all elated like I thought I’d be.  Taking the money is not the right thing to do…besides I am sort of getting excited about the idea of having a free holiday timeshare._

“Thank you, but I don’t want the money,” said Benedict firmly.  “I must admit that originally was the plan.  At first, I thought the timeshare was a frivolous idea.  I felt the money could be better spent on renovating the house; so I talked Donna around and put her up to asking for it rather than accepting it graciously like we bloody well should have without reservation.” 

“I’m glad your epiphany came now instead of later when they raise the point prices,” quipped Neil. 

“It was completely selfish of me.  My parents would be appalled if they knew.”  

“Yes, it was selfish when you know how much Disney means to Donna; but I can see your point, for what it’s worth.  It would be nice to have all the money already in hand so you could do the whole place over at once rather than piece meal.” 

“Neil, I wasn’t properly thinking it through when I approached Donna about it.” 

Neil paused to regard Benedict in the semi-darkness for a moment as if trying to make up his mind as to how he wanted to respond. 

“No, you weren’t, Ben.  You’ve got an impulsive streak, which you acted on when you heard about our wedding gift.  You’re not into Disney like our family is – it doesn’t mean the same things to you that it does to us; so your mind immediately went elsewhere.” 

“That’s one hundred percent true. At first, the thought of being locked into having to spend all our holidays in the same place year after year was not appealing to me when there are so many other places one could go to...French Polynesia, Asia, Africa, and Australia, to name a few off the top of my head.” 

“You know damn well you could never afford to take Donna to any of those places.” 

“I’m lucky if we could afford a weekend jolly to Brighton.” 

“Do you realize that you don’t even have to use the damn points to go to Orlando?  There are plenty of other destinations you can use them at.” 

“I’ve just come to realize that now.  What I really hate is that there is friction between us once again – just when things were settling down.” 

Benedict noticed that Neil remained silent as he seemingly focused on the London Eye in the distance. 

_I really cocked it up this time.  Fuck!  
_

“I’m sorry that you’re pissed off at me, Neil.  It’s the last thing I want right now.” 

“I’m not totally pissed at you, Ben.  I also realize that your motivation to try and give my daughter her dream house was rooted in love.  I’m firmly convinced that you’d do anything within your power to make her happy.  What irks me, however; is that Donna was going to do your dirty work.  All you had to do is come to Toni and me with your thoughts on the matter.  We would have understood.” 

“That was not one of my better ideas, I fully admit.” 

“I appreciate your honesty, Ben.  Like I said, the money is yours to do with as you and Donna please.  Why don’t you two take some time to discuss it and then make the final decision?” 

“But those special theme park tickets…the hopping from park-to-park...  option thing. Don’t you have to lock it in prior to the end of the year?” 

Neil waved a dismissive hand.  “Oh, please don’t tell me that you’re getting caught up in this, too.  We’ve got two more weeks until the end of the year. I implore you to please take your time and _really_ think it through carefully.” 

 

 

Gloucestershire: 

Timothy and Wanda sat silently at the kitchen table whilst the bird clock chimed the hour, startling the three of them.  Benedict immediately ceased  speaking. 

“And that would be Tawny Owl telling us it’s Christmas Eve,” said Timothy.  “Donna’s been up there for quite a while,” he observed. 

“It’s still early in the States, and there were a lot of people Donna wanted to wish glad tidings to.  Don’t forget that she has to coordinate her calls with the time difference in mind.” 

“Wait a minute. You mean to tell me you turned down a Disney Vacation Club Membership?” demanded Wanda, clearly aghast.  “What on earth possessed you to do that, Benedict?  Do you know how much those bloody timeshares are worth? You could never afford to buy into one!” 

“Hush, Wanda!  You heard him.  They were only being pragmatic.  There’s no shame in wanting to use that money for remodeling purposes,” snapped Timothy.  “That makes perfect sense to me!  Don’t you think getting the house in shape should be their priority?” 

“Yes.  I mean no!” cried Wanda.  

Timothy regarded his wife as if she had grown two heads.  “Why not then? I’d love to hear your reasoning, please.” 

“Mum, Dad, you haven’t let me finish,” said Benedict.  “I was still talking when Tawny Owl chose to interrupt us.” 

“No, I want to hear from your mother first.  Go on then, Wanda.  Tell us why you’re against them using the money for renovations.” 

“Because Ben will never get another chance like this again to own a timeshare like this one.  It’s a _Disney_ timeshare, Tim!” 

Timothy waved his hand at her dismissively.  “Well, that surely changes the situation.” 

“That’s what I mean…” 

“Bollocks, I say!” 

“Piss off, Tim!  It’s the perfect place to take a family on holiday – there are rides, shows, shopping…” 

“Oh, well, I hadn’t realized you could only shop in Florida – silly me!” 

“Please let me finish, Tim, and stop being so cheeky!  Do you remember the water sprites that you and Ben used to take out on the lake near the Magic Kingdom?  Wouldn’t you fancy doing that with your grandchildren?” 

“I had forgotten about the water sprites,” laughed Benedict.  “They were brilliant, weren’t they Dad?” 

“You mean those little boats we rented at the Polynesian?  Yes, they were great fun,” admitted Timothy.  “One time we rented a pontoon boat and the three of us went out on it with a picnic lunch.  Those _were_ fun times.” 

“Then we went to the luau afterwards,” said Wanda. “They gave us flower leis and it was an all-you-can-eat, family-style meal served at long tables.  The Mai tais were served in hollowed out coconuts, and Ben had a virgin one made for the kids. We had such a good view. Remember the fire dancer? He was just brilliant!” 

“I remember the hula dancers,” smiled Timothy.  “Those birds could certainly wiggle their hips.” 

Wanda rolled her eyes.  “You would remember that.” 

“And afterwards we walked to the beach to watch the light parade on the lake,” added Benedict. 

“It’s called the Electrical Water Pageant and it’s still running along with the luau,” reported Wanda.  “The only change is the price of the luau has gone up considerably.” 

“Someone has been doing her homework on the Disney website,” snickered Benedict. 

Wanda gave him a sheepish grin and put her head down.  Benedict got up and wrapped his arms around her and gave her a hug. 

“Christ, how I loved doing that! I’d fancy doing it all over again.” 

Wanda patted his hands and smiled up at him.  Then she regarded her husband and resumed her sales pitch. 

“Just think, Tim; they will own that timeshare for fifty years.  It’s still cheaper to go there on holiday than it is on the Continent.” 

“For fucks sake, Wanda!  You sound like a used car salesman.  What about the airfare?  They don’t fly you free across the pond on Dumbo’s back.  Also, what are they going to do about meals?  They can’t exist on air certainly or maybe that rat can whip something up with pixie dust.” 

“You mean Ratatouille,” retorted Wanda. 

“His name was Remy, Mum.  I know this because Kenny’s son was talking about him being at their lunch in Epcot.” 

“Jesus!” breathed Timothy. 

“Stop being so stropy, Tim! If need be, they can economize on food and cook their own meals – some of the vacation club units come with kitchens.” 

Timothy barked out a laugh.  “I’ll remember that the next time we go on holiday to Paris.  I’ll make sure to lease us a flat rather than book a hotel room.  Then you can cook all our meals in order to save money.” 

“You want me to cook whilst we’re on holiday?” demanded a horrified Wanda. “Have you lost your mind?  The whole idea of going on holiday is to not have to do any cooking or laundry or housework!” 

“Ah, so the idea doesn’t appeal to you after all then. It would be fine for Donna to do all the cooking, but not for you.  Who in their right mind wants to cook and clean whilst on holiday, Wanda?  That’s the whole point of taking a holiday – to have a break from the mundane chores of real life!” 

“And I can’t think of a better place to escape the mundane than at Disney World!  They’ll be totally submerged in the magic!” 

“Has Donna been filling your head with this poppycock?” demanded Timothy.  “You sound just like her for fucks sake!” 

“No.  Once I found out about Toni and Neil’s gift; I’ve been reading up on the Disney Vacation Club.  It has a lot to offer, Tim. I’m sorry we never thought about buying into it.” 

“May I take this opportunity to remind you that we have a perfectly lovely holiday home in Galaxidi, and you’re sitting in the other one at this very moment?” 

“Ah, but there are no rides in either,” Benedict reminded him. “Unless you count the Christmas sleigh ride that they have on the commons.” 

“Don’t be cheeky, Ben.  I’m trying to make a point to your mother.” 

“And all this time I thought you were attempting to be infuriating and doing a brilliant job of it, I might add,” said Wanda sarcastically. 

“Who’s being cheeky now?” retorted Timothy with raised eyebrows at his wife. 

Wanda sighed.  “I suppose three holiday homes would be a tad excessive.” 

Timothy held his head.  “Has this bloody sales pitch been aimed at me for Christ’s sake?  Do you want us to buy in as well, Wanda?”  

“I wasn’t talking about us, Timothy.  I was talking about Ben and Donna when they go with their kids.  They can use the kitchen for a quick breakfast in the mornings.  I would never expect that Donna would be up at the crack of dawn cooking a full English.” 

_No, Mum.  Donna would be on her way to the Magic Kingdom so she can be the first one on line when they open and dash straight off to Space Mountain.  The children and I would still be sleeping…unless they take after their mother.  In that case I’d probably have a lie in and spend the morning by the pool with a good book, an iced coffee and a jelly donut._

“It doesn’t take much to open a box of cereal and pour some milk,” said Benedict.  “All hotel rooms have coffee and tea makers now; so we could even have instant porridge.” 

“Oh, well; that’s different then,” scoffed Timothy.  “Are you two mad?” 

“No, but this is a wonderful opportunity for Benedict and…” 

Benedict held up his hands to silence them both.  “Please stop bickering you two and let me finish with my story.” 

Wanda and Timothy abruptly ceased speaking and glared at each other before focusing on their son. 

“As Neil suggested, I went downstairs to collect Donna, so we could sort things out.  We had a brief talk in my bedroom.  I told her about her father’s offer, and she was over the moon at first.  However, the more we discussed it; we both came to realize that the timeshare really wasn’t such a bad idea after all.  We decided that we could still handle the renovations on our own as originally planned.  It would also be rude to refuse a gift like that – especially something that obviously means so much to them.  Accepting it creates good will amongst my future wife and in-laws.” 

“That’s right,” agreed Wanda. “Not to mention it’s a helluva lot of fun to visit!” 

“I also apologized profusely to Donna for trying to manipulate her.  I promised her I’d never do that again, and I won’t.  I’m not proud of the way I behaved.” 

“I’m glad to hear that,” said Timothy.  “That wasn’t one of your better ideas, Benedict.  It reminded me of one of your mother’s daft schemes.” 

Timothy shifted uncomfortably as Wanda kicked him underneath the table. 

“I also won’t lie to you,” continued Benedict. “The more I thought about it, the more I realized that it wouldn’t be so bad.  The idea really began to appeal to me…to my inner child.  Disney really is a great place to create memories for families. Donna’s forever talking about what wonderful times they’ve spent there.” 

“That’s true.  They really do hold cherished memories of the place,” added Wanda. 

“What I didn’t realize until that night was that I also hold very dear memories of my trips there with you both as a family.  I’ve come to realize that I’d like to experience Disney World with Donna as a couple and as a father.  We could have an extended family holiday of our own.” 

“Oh, yes!” cried Wanda.  “We can get matching t-shirts to wear!” 

“And if work keeps me from using it; Donna can always take the children and go on her own.  You two could even go on your own and use it. Tracy can use it and our friends can use it.  The points won’t go to waste, I’m sure.” 

“So you’ve accepted it, yes?” asked Timothy. 

Benedict nodded.  “Yes, we did.  We chose the Animal Kingdom Lodge as our home resort, and everything’s been sorted.  You’re looking at a proud Disney Vacation Club owner.” 

Wanda clapped her hands together in delight.  “Jolly good!  That’s the resort I would have chosen!  Oh, I can’t wait to go with our grandchildren!  We’ll book a room in the same resort. Think of the fun we’ll all have!” 

“That certainly must have scored brownie points with your future in-laws,” sneered Timothy. 

“Actually it did; but there’s more that scored me a lifetime’s worth of them,” laughed Benedict. 

Timothy looked worriedly at Wanda.  “I can’t even imagine what you did to win them over.” 

“Neither can I,” said Wanda. 

Timothy stifled a yawn. “Out with it, Ben, it’s getting frightfully late.” 

“You see I had had the opportunity to go through my mail whilst Donna was taking her parents through my flat; and I saw that two envelopes had come in that I had been expecting.  I had been planning on finding an excuse to take Neil up to your roof terrace after dinner that night in order to tell him about my plans when fate intervened and…”  

 

 

Hampstead: 

Neil and Toni Saint James had been sat side-by-side on the couch in Benedict’s apartment when he and Donna entered the living room hand-in-hand. 

“That was fast,” quipped Neil, looking at his watch. 

“There wasn’t much to discuss,” smiled Donna, gazing up at Benedict adoringly.  “The Animal Kingdom Lodge it is!” 

“We decided that the timeshare has a lot to offer us now and in the future,” added Benedict. 

“What about renovating the house?” inquired Neil. 

“We’ll stick to our original plan and work on the house as money becomes available,” replied Donna.  

“We’re so pleased you both reconsidered in favor of the timeshare!” said Toni enthusiastically as she looked from Donna to Benedict.  “You won’t be sorry!” 

“I’m looking forward to using it,” said Benedict, sitting in an armchair.  “It sounds like a lovely resort.” 

“Oh, it is!” exclaimed Donna as she perched on the arm of Benedict’s chair.  “You’re going to love watching the animals from our balcony.”  She kissed him lightly on the lips. "And it's such a wonderful resort to take kids to."

“Donna and I thank you both very much for your most generous gift,” said Benedict. 

“You’re welcome,” said Neil and Toni at the same time.  

Just then Donna heard her cellphone ringing from inside her handbag.  She bent down and retrieved it off the floor where she had left it earlier.  She frowned as she checked the caller ID.  

“Hmmm…that’s odd.  It’s Mike McGiver.  He rarely calls me.” 

“Who’s Mike McGiver?” asked Toni. 

“He writes the Quality for Your Quid column for the Sunday Tribune – in other words:  cheap eats,” explained Donna.  “Please excuse me while I take this in the bedroom.” 

“If you two will excuse me, I’d like to take a look at the roof terrace,” said Toni.  “My tour got cut short by the tea and cookies earlier.” 

“Donna will show you the way,” said Benedict.  “I left all the lights on.” 

Donna and Toni got up and headed to the hallway.  Toni took the stairs that led to the loft and roof terrace whilst Donna retreated to Benedict’s bedroom.  Benedict waited until Donna disappeared into his room and shut the door before addressing Neil. 

“I’m glad to have this time alone with you so I can share some information,” Benedict began.  “I have to do it quickly though as I don’t know how long we have.” 

“Shoot,” said Neil.  “I’m all ears.” 

Benedict quickly lifted his jumper, pulled an envelope from the waistband of his jeans and handed it to a surprised-looking Neil. 

“I had originally planned on fabricating an excuse to take you up to my parents’ roof terrace so we could talk without Donna or Antonia overhearing us; but this seems as good a time as any.”  

Neil accepted the envelope and extracted the contents.  He donned his reading glasses and began to scan the first page. 

“As you can see, the first is a copy of a life insurance policy that I took out on myself for one hundred thousand pounds. It also names Donna as the sole beneficiary.” 

Neil smiled and nodded his approval.  “I’m very pleased to see that you’ve done this, Ben.” 

“It was always my plan to make sure that I left something for Donna in the event of my pre-mature demise.  I wished it could have been more; but this is the best I can do for now.” 

“Thank you for showing me this, Ben,” said Neil. “Now, Toni will be able to sleep nights again.” 

“I thought it was the right thing to do after Friday night.” 

“You’re a fast worker,” observed Neil. 

“I had contacted my solicitor about drawing up a will two weeks prior to our dinner; so things were already in motion when your wife brought it up.” 

“Does Donna know you have a will?” 

“Not yet.  I plan to show it to her tomorrow.” 

“Then I’ll refrain from saying anything to Toni until tomorrow as well.  I don’t want her calling Donna until you’ve had time to show it to her. Toni’s been badgering her about the will as I’m sure you know.”  Neil held out the copy to Benedict to take back. 

“No, that copy is for you to keep and show to Antonia.” 

“Alright.  Thank you again.  By the way, Donna should also have one drawn up.” 

“With you and your wife as the designated beneficiaries, yes?” 

“No. In spite of what you may think; I’m not that much of a prick, Ben.  You’re going to be her husband; so she should make you her sole heir as well. We can be her secondary beneficiaries in the event something happens to you first and prior to having any children.” 

“You surprise me, Neil.” 

“And at times I find I surprise myself as well, and this is one of them.  It’s just a matter of it being the right thing to do rather than having that worthless pre-nup Toni was trying to intimidate you into signing.” 

“Just so we’re utterly clear, I will never sign one.  As I said, I will take my marriage vows to heart.” 

“I believe you, Ben.  In spite of our differences, I know you intend to keep those vows once you make them; and I respect your commitment to my daughter.  Believe it or not, deep down inside, Toni does as well.  It’s the lawyer in her that fueled that particular fire.  Everything must be in writing and signed and witnessed to hell and back and filed away for safe keeping.”

 “I do want us all to get on – for Donna’s sake and for ours.  I’ve said it before, and I’m completely sincere when I do.” 

“As do we all, Ben.  We’ll all just have to make it our business to try harder. Now, let’s try and put this all behind us and move on.” 

Benedict nodded as Neil unfolded the other two papers.  “Now, what’s this all about?” 

“That one gets a bit of an explanation and goes with the last page.” 

Neil frowned as he scanned the first paper.  “It’s an amended invoice from Jamie Oliver for the reception…but it looks the same to me.  Did he decide to raise prices?” 

“Of course not, for fucks sake!  He’s a mate of mine.  Jamie would never do such a thing.  Look at the bottom.  There’s an addition.” 

“Oh, I see it…you and Donna have added on a hot chocolate bar with made-to-order s’mores at the end of the night.  That’s a nice touch, especially for the younger guests.” 

Benedict glanced down the hallway, which was deserted.  “Now, look at the next page, quick as you can!” 

“This is an amended invoice from Kenwood House for an… outdoor fireworks display to be held at the close of the event.”  Neil glanced up at Benedict with raised eyebrows.  “Fireworks?” he repeated. 

Benedict smiled widely at Neil.  “Yes, we’re having bloody fireworks!  Camden town gave me permission to hire a company to set off a small display at the end of the night.” 

Neil chuckled. “I have to hand it to my daughter…” 

“Your daughter had absolutely nothing to do with either the hot chocolate bar or the fireworks,” interrupted Benedict.  “I decided it would be nice to surprise Donna and your family with a fireworks display at the end of the night do.  Our wedding planner at Kenwood House was very helpful in arranging it for me. Then, Jamie suggested the hot chocolate bar and s’mores to ward off the chill whilst we’re watching them outdoors.  The viewing will be from the back terrace that opens off of the Orangery.” 

“I have to tell you, Ben, this is a fabulous idea and one that the families are sure to enjoy. The hardest part is going to be keeping it a secret from Donna, of course.” 

“That’s why I had the amended invoices sent to me to personally hand to you.  I didn’t want to take a chance that Donna or Antonia might come across them in our emails.  I want them to be as surprised as the rest of our guests.” 

“Don’t worry, Ben.  I won’t say a word.  Donna does have a penchant for reading emails that are none of her business; and Toni would naturally want to go over any amended invoices that came in. I’ll make sure to put these in a safe place,” Neil put the papers back inside the envelope and tucked it into his inside sports jacket pocket. “Everyone will be thrilled, Ben,” said Neil.  “That was a very thoughtful thing to do.” 

“Donna has mentioned those blasted Disney fireworks dessert parties so often; that I feel as if I’ve actually been to one.  One night whilst we were out to dinner with Carly and Steve, they got to talking about their wedding and the fireworks.” 

Neil raised a hand.  “Before you say another word, let me just clarify that I never paid for a fireworks display for Carly’s wedding.  After the reception, I had dedicated buses drive our guests over to Epcot to watch their nighttime fireworks display.” 

“Illuminations,” said Benedict.  “I remember seeing that with Mum and Dad.” 

“There’s an island-like area that juts out into the lagoon just off the Italian pavilion where we had the dessert buffet. I paid for the desserts; but Disney picked up the bill for the fireworks – so to speak.” 

“After hearing Donna go on and on about how utterly fantastic those parties are; I decided it would make a lovely surprise if I were to try and duplicate one at our wedding.  I enlisted the aid of Mrs. Hanson, our wedding planner. She adored the idea and contacted the fireworks company they use for their mid-summer concert series and even helped me submit the permit request to the town of Camden.  When I broached the subject of having a dessert buffet with Jamie, he suggested the hot chocolate bar and s’mores being we were already having a sweets table straight after the wedding cake was served.” 

“That was a very creative idea. Everyone will be stuffed after all that food; so a hot drink and a little something will be perfect after all that dancing at the night do.” 

“I’ve also ordered a set of bride and groom mouse ear hats with our names embroidered on the back along with a Mickey and Minnie Mouse wedding cake topper.   I’m having them sent to my parents’ flat, so there will be no chance of Donna’s coming across them.” 

Neil’s face broke into a huge grin of approval.  “You’re going to make Donna one very happy camper, Ben.  As Pa would say if he were here:  Well done you.” 

“Let’s just say that I fancied making some proper Disney magic for her here in London.”  

“What are you two whispering about?” inquired Donna as she and Toni entered the room. 

“Nothing really,” replied Neil off offhandedly as he pretended to pick a piece of imaginary lint from his trousers. 

“This looks suspicious to me,” said Toni, taking a seat beside her husband. “What gives?” 

“We were just chatting about the wedding,” added Benedict quickly.  “I was just saying that I hope you both understand about cutting back on your guest list; but the maximum capacity of each of the rooms is one hundred and twenty-five people.” 

“Of course we do,” said Toni.  “Especially, since we got to see the rooms in person.  As I was telling your mother at the engagement party, we only expect the immediate family, grandparents and some of the aunts and uncles to attend from our side.” 

“Not everyone can afford to fly over to London for a wedding; so Toni and I have decided to host a small, intimate cocktail party in New York in your honor for our family and friends who couldn’t attend.  We’ll do it the first time you two are able to visit after the wedding,” explained Neil.  

“Oh no!” sighed Donna in a barely audible voice.  “Their idea of intimate is well over a hundred people.” 

“We were thinking of holding it at Del Posto or the Rainbow Room,” continued Toni. 

“The Rainbow Room will cost a fortune, Mom!  That’s way over the top!  I think I can speak for Benedict as well when I say we would want to keep it very small and simple.” 

“Stop telling her to keep it small.  You know damn well that your parents want to get back what they gave out,” Benedict said to Donna under his breath.  “Mine would do the same.” 

Toni thought for a moment.  “Are you on good terms with Mario Batali?” 

“I’ve only met him at Food TV Network events when I went with Carly or Giada.  He seemed very jolly and nice. You should be asking Carly, as she did the interiors of two of his restaurants.  She’s on great terms with him.” 

“I was just concerned that you may have reviewed one of his restaurants when you first started out here,” said Toni.  

“No, I never reviewed any of Mario’s restaurants.” 

Benedict quietly snickered.  “Bloody hell!  She was afraid you gave him one of your snarky reviews, and he wouldn’t let them hire out his restaurant!” 

“Shhhhhh!  Dad heard you.” 

“Excellent!  We’ll have the party at Del Posto.  Maybe Carly can get us a discount,” said Toni.  “And if not, we’ll ask Giada?  Aren’t she and Mario friends?” 

“As long as you keep it simple, Mom,” warned Donna.  “We don’t want something bigger and more elaborate than what we’re having over here.” 

“Something on the scale of what my parents did for our engagement would be fine,” added Benedict hopefully.  

“Actually, that is exactly what we had in mind,” said Toni.  “Your parents’ party was perfect in that regard.” 

“Drinks and finger food,” said Neil.  “And a wedding cake, of course.” 

“Ron Ben-Israel can make your cake!” cried Toni.  

Donna smiled.  “That’s fine, Mom.  Something on the size and scope of what Benedict’s parents did is more than acceptable to us, right, Honey?” 

“It’s fine with me.  Well, now that the party has been sorted, what did Mike want?” Benedict asked Donna. 

“Poor Mike is down with the flu,” replied Donna.  “So he’s asked if I could fill in and write his column for Sunday’s edition.” 

“Rodney was saying the flu is starting to make its rounds here,” said Neil. “It’s a good thing we’re going home in a couple of days.” 

“It’s at home, too,” confirmed Toni.  “Uncle Frank and his whole family came down with it before we left.  I spoke with him yesterday, and he’s hoping to be back at work in a couple of days. The Christmas season is one of the busiest seasons in the jewelry exchange; so he can’t afford to miss work.” 

“Did he have to close his counter?” asked Donna.

 “No.  Popi and Nona kept it open for him with some help from a friend of Uncle Angelo’s.  Popi was very proud of his salesmanship.  Apparently, he sold quite a few things.” 

“Mike sounds awful; and he said he just wants to crawl into a hole and die,” said Donna.  “He emailed me the names and addresses of the three restaurants he was going to review this week along with what he was planning to order off each of the menus.”  

“You only do one restaurant a week. Does he write up the best of the three?” asked Neil. 

“Nope.  He writes a little blurb about each one whereas mine only focuses on one restaurant.  Mike’s columns aren’t’ meant to be as detailed as mine are because I’m considered to be more in the fine dining category than the places he goes to.” 

“Are you planning on hitting all three in the same day?” inquired Benedict. 

“Mike was going to concentrate on dinner offerings this week; so I’m going to spread them out. We’re going to be very busy eating out every night, so I hope your stomach is up it!” 

“Oh, I’m sure I’m up to the challenge,” said Benedict, checking his watch.  “Forgive my being rude; but I think it’s time for us to leave for Kensington.  Mum hates it when her guests are late.” 

“I notice you said nothing about your being late,” teased Donna. 

Benedict blushed and laughed.  “That’s automatically assumed whenever I’m expected.” 

“How are we getting there?” asked Neil as they all crowded into the small foyer to retrieve their coats.  “Are you going to drive us?” 

“It’s either that or we could take the tube and make two changes.  Either way I’d say it’ll take us thirty-five to forty minutes all told,” replied Benedict. 

“Then I vote for the tube,” said Neil as he shrugged into his coat.  

Ten minutes later Benedict found himself sat on a Northern Line train, sandwiched in between Donna and Antonia, whilst Neil sat across from them reading the evening paper. 

“I’ve always preferred the cushioned seats on the tube to the hard plastic benches in our subways,” remarked Toni.  “It’s so much more comfortable.” 

“I agree!” said Donna, leaning over in order to see her mother.  “The only thing that’s bad is some of the lines don’t have air conditioning.  Then it’s hot as hell down here.” 

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck. “So, now that you’ve finally been up there; how did you fancy my roof terrace, Antonia?” 

“It really does afford a magnificent view of London.  I couldn’t see the Heath as it’s already dark outside; but I loved being able to see the Gherkin and London Eye.” 

“I’ve always thought it was akin to being on top of the world,” smiled Benedict.  “However, I won’t lie – the terrace looks better in the darkness.  During the day you can see how ratty it is.  The fairy lights give it a…magical glow.  Perhaps I should leave them up all year long.” 

Donna leaned out and around Benedict again to address her mother.  “He’s making it sound awful in the daylight, and it’s not.” 

“It is,” insisted Benedict.  “Let’s face it, the house is old and in need of a remodel.” 

“I thought your Christmas decorations made it very festive – especially that little mechanical reindeer.  That was a very cute idea – which one of you came up with it?” 

Benedict blushed and rubbed his thigh furiously.  “Erm…I’m going to have to take credit for it.”  

“I got a kick out of his red bow.” 

“I’m glad you liked it, Antonia.  I thought it was a rather whimsical touch.” 

Benedict Cumberbatch felt Donna Saint James gently poke him in the ribs. 

“Shame on you for taking all the credit, Benedict; but don’t worry. I’ll be sure to tell Olivia that Mom approves of her decorating when I see her at Mark and Juliette’s wedding,” she whispered into his ear. 

 

 

Gloucestershire: 

“Such a brilliant idea to have fireworks and snacks after the night do!” exclaimed Wanda with a huge smile. 

“Donna’s going to be over the moon,” said Timothy.  “I’m looking forward to it as well.” 

“I also love that you’ve gone and ordered the Disney cake topper and hats, which I promise to keep hidden from prying eyes,” said Wanda. 

“If I had the things shipped to my flat, there is always the chance that Donna would somehow come across them.” 

“The Commander is especially adept at minding secrets,” declared Timothy, flashing a cheeky smile at his wife.  “She takes great pride in that.”  He immediately pulled his feet back underneath his chair in order to avoid a kick from Wanda.  

“Stop being snarky, you!” hissed Wanda. 

“I only meant that you’ve successfully hid all the Christmas presents from him each year without his discovering your hiding places,” explained Timothy. 

“Despite my best efforts at searching once I found out Dad was really Father Christmas,” laughed Benedict.  “It still irks me that I’ve never been able to discover them to this day.” 

Benedict noticed that Wanda quickly changed the subject to the engagement party. 

“Don’t you find it funny how we didn’t know Colin had a brother until we sent out the engagement party invites,” mused Wanda.  “I was shocked when Toni emailed me to be sure to include him and his family.” 

“You can imagine how surprised and delighted your mother was to discover that she has another chapter of her fan club based right here in London,” said Timothy.  “If we had realized that the old boy was going to make a fool of himself like his brother, I would have had your mother bring along some head shots and her sharpie pen.” 

“You can stop taking the piss now, Tim,” snapped Wanda.  “It was lovely meeting them and to know they’re living here in London now.” 

“I forgot what they did for a living,” said Timothy. “It’s something artsy yes?” 

“Cecil was a tailor for the House of Dior in Paris; and his wife, Simone, was a former runway model for Dior,” replied Wanda. 

“Donna and Carly lived with them whilst they were attending the Cordon Bleu that summer,” said Benedict. 

“It must be the son who has the artsy job then,” said Timothy.  

“I wouldn’t call it artsy, Dad.  Their son is a stylist; and just got a job with Spencer Hart.” 

“What is his name?” fretted Wanda.  “I knew it well enough a few moments ago.  Hells bells!  I hate when that happens!” 

“Sorry, I can’t be of help this time, Love.  His name escapes me as well. I’m rubbish with names at times,” laughed Timothy. 

“It’s Sebastian,” said Benedict. “We were chatting about the fact that Spencer Hart is going to be dressing me for _Sherlock_.” 

“I remember now! His name is Simon,” corrected Wanda. “Sebastian is his partner.  He’s an estate agent.” 

“Didn’t Cecil get a job at Spencer Hart as well?” asked Timothy. 

“Yeah,” replied Benedict.  “I asked him if he could find a way to get me some more breathing room in those suits; but it’s too late.  They’ve already been tailored to fit my body.”  _And now to steer the conversation back to the wedding._

“So, what did you think of my ideas to surprise Donna, Mum?” 

“Oh, Ben, Donna is going to be utterly over the moon, not to mention our guests!” 

“That is the idea, Mum,” confirmed Benedict.  “I was determined to make some Disney magic for my love all on my own.” 

“That was a genius idea, Son,” said Timothy.  “Her side of the family will be chuffed as fuck.  Those people do love their fireworks, bless them.” 

“When shall I expect the package from Disney?” asked Wanda.  “I know just the place to stash it once it arrives.” 

“And where might that be, Mum?” 

“Why in the…”  Wanda stopped and shook a finger at her son.  “Oh no you don’t Benedict Timothy Carlton Cumberbatch!” 

“For fucks sake, Mum!  I’m a grown man now.” 

“You’re a grown man who still loves to snoop as if you were still a small, curious boy,” retorted Wanda. 

“Come on, Mum.  You’re making a right meal of this.” 

“You’re starting to whine, Benedict.  It wasn’t cute when you were eight, and it’s not cute when you’re thirty-three. You’re going to have to trust me on this. I guarantee you that your package will be safe.” 

“But not from me!  I need to have access to it.” 

“Why?” 

“Mum, I’m being serious…” 

“So am I.” 

“…where will it be?” 

“In a safe place.” 

“Which is where?” 

“I assure you the package will be absolutely secure from Donna’s prying eyes – and yours.” 

“What if I want to open it and check to make sure everything is in prime condition?” 

Wanda thought for a moment.  “Fair enough.  I’ll ring you the day it arrives, and you can come around and open it and check the contents for yourself.  Then I’ll put it away once you’ve gone.” 

“I’ll need to get it to the Wedding Planner just prior to the wedding; so I’ll have to come around and collect it.” 

“Then ring me up the night before you’ll be needing it; and I’ll have it waiting for you.” 

“What if you’re out when I want to come around?”  

“I’ll leave it out for you on the coffee table if I’m not going to be home.” 

“And if I decide to come around on an impulse?  I just might happen to be in the area on the spur of the moment and decide to collect it then.  I should know where it is, Mum.” 

“Oh, I wouldn’t recommend doing that.  You still won’t be able to find it no matter how hard you might look.  You couldn’t uncover my lair when you were still living at home, and you won’t now.  You can bank on that.  It’s truly a genius hiding spot, even if I must pat myself on the back.” 

“I notice you’ve been awfully quiet, Dad.  You must be privy to the super-secret location of her hiding place.” 

Timothy blushed and spread his hands helplessly. “Unfortunately, I don’t have a clue where your mother’s hiding place is.  I don’t even know where the one in Gloucestershire is.” 

“Bloody hell!  You’ve got a secret hiding place in our country retreat?  I bet you’ve the likes of one in our holiday home in Galaxidi as well yes?” 

Wanda gave him a cheeky grin and nodded.  “As a matter of fact, I do.” 

Benedict looked at Timothy in exasperation.  “And I take it that you know nothing of that one either?” 

“Sorry, Ben; but I don’t.” 

“This is complete bollocks!” 

“It is what it is,” Wanda said simply.  “Don’t you like being surprised at Christmas and on your birthday?” 

“Of course I do.” 

Wanda gave him another cheeky grin.  “I rest my case, _Barrister_.” 

“I’m just concerned that I might be so busy that I’ll have to come on the spur of the moment and you won’t be home.  Then what?” 

“She can leave it with me then,” said Timothy.  “One of us is usually at home, and I’ve proven to be very trustworthy.” 

Benedict raised an eyebrow at his father.  “At what?” 

“At not revealing the location of the Commander’s secret gift lair - Even I don’t know all of her hiding places.” 

“Did you say ‘all’ – as in more than one?” 

Timothy nodded.  

Benedict rolled his eyes at Wanda.  “Bloody hell, Mum!  You really don’t want either of us to know where your hiding places are!” 

Wanda smiled serenely at her son.  “You’re right.  I don’t.  Neither of you need to know where all my secret hiding places are, _Barrister_.  As far as I’m concerned, this subject is forever closed.” 

“You know, Ben, if all else fails; one of us can bring the package over to Kenwood House and give it to the wedding planner for you.” 

“That would work,” admitted Benedict, rubbing his upper lip with his index finger.  “Yes, I think I fancy that idea best.” 

Timothy sighed with relief and yawned.  “I’m glad that’s been sorted to everyone’s satisfaction.  Now, I think I’ll go up to bed and leave you both to continue your verbal sparring.” 

Wanda and Benedict bid good night to Timothy and regarded each other. 

“Would you say we were sparring?”  Wanda asked Benedict with a frown.  “I wouldn’t call it that.” 

Benedict snickered.  “Then what would you call it, Mum?” 

Wanda thought for a moment as she tucked her hair behind her ears.  “Bickering?  No…that sounds even worse than sparring.” 

“Dueling then?” 

“Hells bells!  That sounds almost as bad as sparring!” 

“Oh, I know!  How about verbal jousting?” 

“Brilliant!  Jousting sounds much nicer, don’t you think?” 

Benedict laughed as he got up and extended a hand to help Wanda to her feet.  “Yes, it does. Verbal jousting it is then, Mother.  Now, as much as I’m enjoying being sat here, chatting with you; I’m getting sleepy.” 

“Yes, let’s go on up then,” agreed Wanda Ventham, as her son kissed her soundly on the cheek.  “It’s officially Christmas Eve, which means we have the whole day ahead of us for some more verbal jousting!”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I remember writing these Gloucestershire chapters in the winter and thinking: They'll be published in the summer. Here we are: Christmas 2009.
> 
> 2\. I'm sure you all have figured out by now that I LOVE Disney's AKL. I've stayed there many times and just adore it. All the resorts are lovely, but none - IMHO - compare to waking up and seeing animals outside your balcony. 
> 
> 3\. Even though this story leans heavily towards 'fluffy' content most of the time, I did want my characters to address some of the more serious things that couples getting married often tackle i.e. the life insurance etc.
> 
> 4\. Thank you for all the kudos I've recently received - it's nice to know that people are still reading and enjoying the story. 
> 
> 5\. Going on vacation next week; so here's wishing a Happy Independence Day to all those who celebrate in the US!


	166. Chapter 166

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: It is now the year 2010. Donna and Benedict attend Mark and Juliette Chaplin’s wedding at London’s Royal Exchange. 
> 
> Note: I’ll be using *************** for things happening at the same time.

 

 

Donna Saint James checked one last time to make sure everything she needed for the wedding was in her small clutch bag. 

_Hmmm…I hate that I can’t fit all my stuff in this damn bag; but I really only need my key card, cellphone, small travel wallet, packet of Kleenex, comb and my lipstick case…oh yes, and Olivia’s lipstick case. It’s a good thing there’s a shoulder chain tucked inside so I can have both hands free for the cocktail hour!  
_

Donna removed the pink lipstick case from her large faux Louis Vuitton handbag and dropped it into her silver sequin-covered clutch.  It was a tight fit.  As she started to close it, another thought came to her.

_I’d better take along a small bottle of hand sanitizer because we’ll be shaking a lot of hands, and the flu is going around.  Even though we got our flu shots, we can still catch it – though not as bad. I need to be healthy for catering Dr. Who and Benedict needs to be healthy for Sherlock.  Neither of us can afford to be sick now.  
_

Donna walked over to the kitchen and checked the time on the oven clock against the wall clock.  Both were exactly the same.  Dennis and Suzanne Bretherton were due to pick them up any time now; and there was no sign of Benedict since he had disappeared into her bedroom to get dressed.  _  
_

“Are you ready yet, Benedict?” Donna called out towards her bedroom.  “We don’t want to keep Dennis and Suzanne waiting and risk being late to the church.  Mark won’t be happy if his groomsmen are the last ones to arrive.”

“Stop badgering me for fucks sake! I’m almost ready!” came Benedict’s testy reply.

_What badgering?  This was the first time I’ve asked him if he was ready.   It’s a damn good thing the church isn’t far from here! My honey’s in full snotty mode today. Ever since he woke up he’s been in a bad mood.  I’ll just leave him be for now.  
_

“Erm…I could use some help here,” came Benedict’s voice.

“I’ll be right there.”  _I’ll do whatever it takes to hurry him along.  
_

Donna hurried down the hallway and into her bedroom.   Benedict stood in front of her dresser wearing light grey, chalk-striped morning suit trousers; a crisp white dress shirt; cream tie and waistcoat with his grandfather Henry’s pocket watch.  His lips were compressed into a tight line as he fiddled with the cuff links she had given him for an engagement present.

_There is definitely an air of impatience about him.  He looks like he wants to rant._

“How can I help, Ben Honey?”

“I can’t seem to get these bloody things to fasten properly!” growled Benedict, holding out his hands towards her. “Look! My hands are shaking for fucks sake!”

_Ah.  It’s the cuff links.  Why is it always the cuff links?  Dad grumbles about cuff links all the time, too._

Donna approached him and reached up to stroke his cheek.  “Are you nervous?”

“Yes, I’m nervous!”

“Why?”

Benedict rolled his eyes and thrust his hands towards Donna once again. “I don’t know why…it’s not like I haven’t done this before.  I’ve been an usher many times over, and I was Adam’s Best Man.”

Donna took the cuff in hand as Benedict impatiently shifted from one foot to the other.

“Come on, quick as you can now!”

Donna paused and fixed him with a look.  “I need you to please stand still so I can do this.”

Benedict ceased moving and rolled his eyes again. 

_Benedict thinks I didn’t see the eye rolls.  He’s been such an irritable prick lately.  Wanda thinks it has something to do with Sherlock being like that. I can’t imagine going through several months with Mr. Brusque-batch. It’s a good thing the bulk of the filming takes place in Cardiff._

“There!  Your cuffs have been linked.”

“Thank you, Love,” said Benedict kissing her lightly on the lips as he shrugged into his black morning coat and buttoned it.  He turned to the full-length mirror that was mounted on the inside of the bedroom door and regarded his reflection, turning right and then left.  “And this is as good as it’s going to get,” he sighed deeply.

_Is he shitting me?  That’s pretty damn good by my standards!  He looks like he stepped out of Gentleman’s Quarterly._

“What’s bothering you so much, Benedict? I think you look very suave and debonair.  This is like having a preview of what you’re going to look like on our wedding day.”  She stood behind him to the right, so he could see her reflection in the mirror.  She smiled encouragingly at him.  “I think you look very handsome in your morning suit.”

Benedict rolled his eyes for the third time and threw up his hands in frustration as he stomped over to the dresser.  “For fucks sake, Donna!  I sure as shit hope not!” he groused whilst sliding his wallet and mobile into his front trousers pocket.  “Can you see these?  I don’t want to look…lumpy in the photos.”

_Jeez Louise, what is bugging Benedict so much today about his appearance?  He really does look very handsome in that outfit.  The suit fits him perfectly._

“No.  It was a good idea to just use that slim billfold.  I can carry anything else you might need in my bag.”

  _I really hope he doesn’t take me up on that offer because it was a lie.  I can’t cram one more thing inside it or I’ll risk breaking the clasp._

“Not unless you’re bringing along your valise,” he snorted.  “I thought you were bringing along that tiny bag for a refreshing change of pace.”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that jab at my everyday bag.”

Benedict giggled.  “That rhymed. Perhaps you should try your hand at poetry.  You certainly seem to have the talent.”

“Not only can I rhyme; but I can also recognize sarcasm when I hear it.”

Benedict playfully cupped a hand around his ear.  “And do you hear it?”

“Yep.”

“Brilliant. You haven’t lost your touch then.”

“So do you need me to bring anything for you?”

“I’m sure you’ve got tissues and hand sanitizer enough for us both.”

“Don’t I always?”

“You probably have enough for the entire table,” snickered Benedict, checking the knot of his tie one last time. 

Donna gave the tie one final adjustment, as his ties were always slightly askew.  “Sarcasm abounds today.”

“Did I tell you how lovely you look?”

Donna stood next to him in front of the dresser’s mirror.  “Yes; but I do love compliments.  This is my first wedding in London, so I want to fit in.”

Benedict looked her up and down for a moment.  “You do have a hat, yes?  The invites specifically requested hats for the ladies.”

“Yep.  It’s in the living room.  After shopping for days, I decided on a little navy blue hat that Carly and I found in a vintage store, nothing huge.  I think they are called fascinators.”

“That’ll be fine.  You can remove it once we get to the Royal Exchange.”

“I can’t wait to see that place!  I’ve heard so much about it from Juliette.”

“What time are Dennis and Suzanne collecting us?”

“Now!  So we’d better get downstairs pronto!”

Donna and Benedict left her flat and trotted down the hallway to the bank of lifts.  One appeared to be on the top floor and the other was on the third floor according to the floor indicator lights above the doors.

“Crap.  I hope we don’t get the local,” Donna sighed as she pressed the down call button.  The one on the third floor began to make its ascent and stopped on the fifth floor.  “Damn!  Just our luck!”

Benedict’s text chime sounded indicating he had a message.  He pulled out his mobile and read it.  “It’s from Dennis.  They’re outside waiting in front of the building.”

“I’m glad Dennis and Adam are groomsmen, too.  That way I can sit with Suzanne and Alice in the church and hang out with them at the cocktail hour while you’re busy posing for photos with the bridal party.”

“You’re alright then about not being able to sit with me in church?”

“I’m fine with it.  I’ve been in wedding parties where I couldn’t sit with my date.”  _Besides,_ _I’ve got plenty to do in church.  I’ll be on the lookout for Olivia Poulet._

Benedict pointed to the left lift’s floor indicator, which showed that the car on the top floor had begun its descent towards their floor.  The bell softly chimed to announce the car’s arrival and the door to the lift silently slid open to reveal that it was empty.  He flashed a devilish smile at Donna and pulled her inside and into his arms for a kiss.

“Ah!  I do love an empty lift – it’s perfect for sneaking a kiss or two!”

“We’re not really alone, Ben,” giggled Donna, pointing to the security camera.  “The concierge and doorman can see us on their displays.”

Benedict’s face reddened.  “It’s a jolly good thing I didn’t decide to have a grope under your dress then.” 

“When we come back, you can grope until your heart’s content – once we’re safely inside my apartment that is.”

As Donna pressed the button for the lobby, there came a shout from down the hallway.

“Wait!!! Hold the lift for me please!” 

“It’s Andrew,” reported Benedict.  “No need to run, Mate.  We’re holding it.”

Benedict used his hand to stop the door from sliding shut as Andrew Scott finished locking the door to his flat and ran down the hall and into the lift.  He leaned back against the wall and took a deep breath.

“Thank you so much, Ben!  I’m meeting my parents at their hotel, and don’t fancy being late.”

“I didn’t know your parents were in town,” said Donna.

“Yeah, they decided to come over on the spur of the moment; so we’re going out for brunch and to the British Museum.  I’m hoping this isn’t going to be what you deem the local, Darlin’,” he said to Donna with a laugh. 

“Let’s hope not. We’ve got friends waiting for us downstairs,” said Donna.

“Don’t you two look smashing?  Off to your mate’s wedding yes?”  He said to Benedict.

Benedict nodded.  “I’d feel better if I looked like myself,” he huffed as he caught his reflection in the shiny half-mirrored lift wall and pulled a face. “I look God-awful!”

Donna suddenly had a revelation. _OH!  It’s the hair that’s bothering Benedict._   _He’s said several times how much he hates the way it looks. He said it when we got out of the shower, and he was starting to finger comb it.  
_

“What do you mean?” asked Andrew.  “I think you look very dashing in morning attire, Ben.”

“No, it’s not the clothes; it’s this fucking long Sherlock hair.  I just don’t look like myself.  My hair is dyed dark and my eyebrows are still auburn. I look like a complete knob.  I’m going to cock up all the photographs!  People will think there’s a woman in the bridal party dressed in drag.”

Donna took his arm and squeezed it.  “No, they won’t.  Mark and Juliette understood that you had to dye your hair and grow it longer for _Sherlock_.  They honestly didn’t seem to care.”

“At least it’s not permanent dye.  Claire said it’ll fade out after several washings.”  Benedict looked in the mirror again.  “Neither of you think I look peculiar with the light eyebrows.”

Donna and Andrew studied Benedict’s face. 

“Why didn’t Claire dye your eyebrows to match your hair in the first place?” asked Andrew.

“How in the fuck should I know?”

Donna opened her bag and pulled out a small sample size wand of black mascara.  “Never fear!  I have just the thing to darken your brows a bit.  Can you bend down please, Ben Honey?”

Benedict did as she asked and in a few seconds, Donna had darkened his brows to better blend in with his new hair color.  She stood back and appraised her handy work. “Done!  I think that’s much better. What do you think?”

“Oh, that is much better,” confirmed Andrew.  “You don’t look like a knob anymore.”

Benedict regarded his expression in the mirror.  “Ah!  That was genius!  At least my eyebrows match my hair now.”

“I can also darken your lashes.”

“No.  This is more than fine, Darling.  Thank you.”

“Just don’t touch them too much,” cautioned Donna.  “Even though this is waterproof mascara, you don’t want to take any chances.”

“You look fine, Ben.  Really,” said Andrew.  “You look rather mysterious with the dark hair.”

“It’s just such a bother to take care of!  It has to be styled.  I just can’t leave the house with it curling all over my head.”

“Yes, you do!” laughed Donna.  “You don’t care how it looks.”

“True,” admitted Benedict with a bashful smile. 

Andrew scrutinized Benedict’s head for a moment.  “Actually, I think you did a brilliant job on it, Ben.  It looks very Lord Byron-ish.”

“Donna styled it for me.  I was just going to let it dry naturally; but these fucking curls get too unruly!”

“Well done then, Darlin’.  You turned out to be a splendid hair stylist,” smiled Andrew as the lift stopped on the sixth floor.  “Shit.  Looks like the local.”  The door opened to reveal no one waiting.  The trio sighed simultaneously.

“Yes, it seems to be the local, MOTHERFUCKER!” cried Benedict in exasperation.  “Just what we don’t need today!”

“Patience, Honey.  We’re almost at the lobby,” said Donna, rubbing his arm in order to soothe him.

“Hey, we’ve got our _Sherlock_ table read Monday morning,” said Andrew with excitement.  “I’m really looking forward to getting started.  I think it’s going to be a brilliant show.”

“So do I,” agreed Benedict.  “The script was just ace.”

“I thought you weren’t in the first episode,” Donna said to Andrew.

“They’re shooting in reverse order,” replied Andrew.  “We’re doing _The Great Game_ first because Steve Moffat has to do rewrites on _A Study in Pink_.  We’re going to film that one last.”

“Oh, that’s right!  I remember Benedict telling me that.”

“It’s actually helpful as we get to see how the characters’ relationships and personalities have evolved since _A Study In Pink_ ,” said Benedict.  “The episode will be a little different than the pilot; but not much.”

The door to the lobby slid open to reveal Suzanne Bretherton chatting with Ralph the daytime doorman.  She looked over at Benedict and shook her head with a smile as if to say she figured he’d be a little late. 

“Oh, oh, Dennis sent her inside to collect us,” said Benedict.  “Well, I’ll see you Monday then,” he said to Andrew.  “Do you fancy taking the tube together?”

Andrew nodded.  “I’ll be ready to leave by eight.  We don’t have that far to go to the rehearsal hall.  Have a lovely time at the wedding you two!”

 

 

Two hours later, whilst the bride and groom took photos alone on the steps of the Royal Exchange, Benedict Cumberbatch and the remainder of the wedding party were escorted inside to the private room where the drinks reception was being held in what looked like a botanical garden.  The lavishly decorated room was packed with wedding guests, and it took Benedict, Dennis and Adam several minutes to locate their respective partners. 

“Blimey!  Will you look at this?  I feel as if we’ve wandered into the motherfucking Chelsea Flower Show!” exclaimed Benedict under his breath as he poked Adam.

“Jesus Christ,” breathed Adam, gawking at all the elaborate floral displays. “I don’t think they could fit any more flowers in here if they bloody well tried.”

“Fucking hell!  The scent is almost overwhelming!” coughed Dennis. “Something setting off my allergies.”

“Shush!” said Benedict, putting a fingertip to his lips.  “We don’t want to be over heard, chaps.”

“It’s best that we speak in hushed tones then,” suggested Adam.

“It reminds me of when you’re having a wander through the cosmetics department in a department store, and they spray you with all sorts of perfumes whether you fancy it or not,” remarked Benedict. “It over stimulates the olfactory receptors and causes them to shut down.”

Adam blinked and looked at Dennis.  “What in the fuck did he just say?”

Dennis laughed and stifled a sneeze.  “That after a while all the scents smell the same.”

“To put it in simpler terms: Being exposed to too many different scents at the same time cocks up your sense of smell. I learnt that whilst I was employed at Penhaligon’s,” boasted Benedict.

Adam rolled his eyes.  “For fucks sake! Anyone with a modicum of common sense could figure that out, Ben.”

“Juliette loves her flowers, bless,” remarked Dennis, removing a handkerchief from his trousers pocket and blowing his now-dripping nose.  “She told Suzanne the theme was spring time in the winter.”

“It looks like she succeeded admirably then,” quipped Adam. 

“Well done her,” agreed Benedict.  “I can’t see Mark agreeing to such flamboyance.”

“I can’t wait to see the ground floor!  I’ll wager they covered the bar with flowers,” said Dennis in a barely audible voice. 

“I feel as if I’m in Kew Gardens,” whispered Adam.  “I wonder where the cash bar is?”

“I could use something to eat,” said Dennis as his stomach gurgled. 

“I see people eating all around us,” observed Benedict.  “Where did they get the nibbles?”

“I see!” exclaimed Adam.  “They have butlers passing around the food on silver trays.  We need to either hunt one down or just wait until one of them comes around again.”

“Shit,” said Dennis, wiping his nose.  “I prefer it when they have self-serve nibbles at these things.”

“It must have cost them a small fortune,” whispered Benedict. “Don’t you agree?”

“Well, they’re both doctors in private practice; so I’m thinking money wasn’t a huge concern,” whispered back Adam.  “I remember Alice’s father kept us to a strict budget.  We were accountable for every fucking quid we spent – unlike you who got carte blanche to have whatever you and Donna fancy!”

“I assure you, Mate, that Donna and I have been very careful not to go overboard with our wedding plans.  It’s not what we want, and it wouldn’t be right to take advantage of her parents’ generosity,” hissed Benedict.

“Lads, I know for a fact that both sets of parents contributed to this affair,” chimed in Dennis.  “If you two will excuse me, I’ve got to use the Gents.  Text me when you manage to locate the girls, and I’ll text you if I manage to locate the bar.”

"It's paramount that you find the bar," laughed Benedict.  "I really would fancy a drink."

 

***********************************************

 

Donna Saint James found herself standing in between Alice Ackland and Suzanne Bretherton.  Ever since she had taken her seat in the church earlier, Donna had incessantly scanned the arriving guests for any sign of Olivia Poulet. There were three hundred guests at the wedding; so Donna had no luck in spotting her.  To her disgust the same thing was happening at the cocktail hour.

_I should give up on my quest to find the elusive Olivia and concentrate on being with my friends.  I must seem very rude to them.  I know Benedict will be able to pick her out in a crowd better than I can.  I’ve only seen her photographs._

“Are you feeling okay, Donna?” asked Suzanne.

Alice and Suzanne watched Donna impatiently crane her neck to scan the crowd once again.  They exchanged glances and shrugged. 

“Not to worry, Donna. The bridal party should be joining us soon,” said Alice, patting Donna’s arm.  “Somehow when your significant other is a member of the bridal party and you’re not; the time they take to do the photos seems forever.”

“They were just going to take some shots outside the church and then on the steps in front of the Exchange’s entrance.  It was too bloody cold to go to the park,” added Suzanne. 

“At least there’s hope that our guys will be able to join us for part of the time then,” said Alice encouragingly to Donna, who said nothing.

Alice rolled her eyes at Suzanne.   “Adam must be famished by now. He barely ate any breakfast.”

“I wouldn’t mind if the butlers came around with those mini Beef Wellingtons again,” said Suzanne, glancing back over her shoulder.  “Those were brilliant.”

“Oh, those were delicious!” agreed Alice.  “What was your favourite nibble, Donna?”

There was no response from Donna.

“Donna?  Are you feeling poorly?” inquired Suzanne with a frown.

_Good gravy!  I’ve been standing here half-listening to their conversation.  I need to stop looking for Olivia now and pay attention.  Now, what were they talking about?  Hmmm…oh, yes.  The guys not being with us because they’re taking pictures._

“I’m fine. I understand that Benedict can’t be here for the whole cocktail hour,” said Donna.  “I’ve been a member of bridal parties when my date wasn’t.  I’m not worried or anxious.”

“You just seem rather distracted is all,” said Alice.

“We’ve moved on from discussing the guys to the food,” added Suzanne.

Donna’s face reddened.  “I’m so sorry, girls.  I don’t mean to be rude.”

“Is it a bit close in here or am I the only one feeling claustrophobic?”  inquired Alice.  “I feel like I’m being smothered by all these bloody flowers!”

“I think they could have gone with a larger room,” said Suzanne, fanning herself with a paper cocktail serviette.  “It’s like being in a bloody greenhouse with all this vegetation!”

“I don’t think Juliette had any idea how much room her springtime theme was going to take up!” laughed Donna.  “Whenever I think of springtime, I think of wide open spaces rather than being crammed into a windowless room better suited for corporate board meetings.”

“I would have had the drinks reception in one of the open galleries, but I wasn’t consulted,” quipped Suzanne.  “Shall we track down the barman and have a go at one of those drinks with the sparklers?  They look so festive!”

“Do you think it wise if we move?  They guys will be looking for us,” said Alice.  “If we stay here, the odds of them finding us are better than if we’re wandering about.”

“I just texted Dennis to let us know when they’re done with the photos; and I’ll send him our location.  So, we’re now free to have a proper wander.  Can I talk either of you into doing a bit of exploring then?”

Alice took another sip of her drink and grimaced. “I’m game if you two are! This drink is a bit too sweet for me. Donna?”

Donna hadn’t been paying attention again to their conversation as she was busy scanning the room for any sign of Olivia.

_Hmmm…the elusive Olivia.  Where in the hell can she be?  I’m sure I would recognize her in person.  Benedict specifically said she’d be here.  Maybe she didn’t go to the church.  Sometimes people skip the church and go straight to the reception._

“Donna?  Do you fancy having a go at one of those drinks with the sparklers?” asked Suzanne. 

_I wonder where the table is that holds the cards with the table assignments.  It has to be right outside the room where they’re holding the dinner, which is where?  I haven’t a clue. Damn.  
_

Suzanne looked with concern at Alice, who shrugged.  “Donna? Whatever the devil’s the matter?” _  
_

_I know what I’ll do!  I’ll say I have to use the bathroom and see if one of the people working the cocktail hour can show me where it is.  Then I’ll definitely know where to look for her!  
_

Donna was suddenly startled by Alice irritably waving her hand in front of her face.

“Hello? Donna?  Are you feeling ill?  _Please_ tell us what’s wrong, Love!”

_Oh, Donna. You’ve been very rude to Benedict’s friends’ wives.  They’ve shown you nothing but kindness since the day he introduced you to them.  Both have extended invitations to get together with you for shopping and lunches and teas. They have invited you into their homes without Benedict being there. These women have actually become your friends as well.  This isn’t a nice way to treat them just because you’re obsessed with finding Benedict’s ex. Would you do that to Sarah or Giada or Michelle?  No.  I’d enlist them to help me locate Olivia, and they’d happily do it. I can’t ask Alice and Suzanne to do that – even though they both are friendly with her and still keep in touch._

Donna felt her cheeks redden at Alice’s words and quickly looked down at her shoes and up again at the two women, who were looking at her with growing concern.  She looked around and lowered her voice and spoke to them softly as not to be overheard.

“I apologize to you both for my inattentive behavior. I should have been paying better attention to the conversation.  It was very rude of me.  I enjoy your company very much and was looking forward to hanging out with you both today.”

“Well, something or someone is proving to be quite the distraction then,” observed Suzanne with a raised eyebrow.  “And I don’t have to be Sherlock Holmes to deduce that!” she joked.

“Do you see someone you know?” asked Alice in barely a whisper.  “Is someone famous here?”  She looked over her shoulder and scanned the crowd behind her. 

Donna shook her head and leaned in towards both women.  “Benedict mentioned that his ex is going to be here…”

“Bloody hell, Donna!  I’ve been stood here thinking that we must be rubbish company all this time, and you were looking for an excuse to ditch us,” laughed Alice.

“Oh, no, Alice!  That’s not it at all.  I enjoy both your and Suzanne’s company very much.  I just let my…insatiable curiosity get the better of me.”

“Do you mean you’ve been stood here all this time searching the room for Olivia Poulet?” asked Suzanne in disbelief. 

Donna nodded guiltily and looked around once again to make sure they weren’t being overheard.

“Yes.  I hate to admit this; but I’ve been dying to meet her ever since I found out about her.”

“You have nothing to be jealous about, Donna,” said Alice.

“You and Olivia are very different people,” added Suzanne.

“I’m not jealous or anything like that,” insisted Donna. “I want to see what it is about Olivia that captured Benedict’s heart in the first place and caused them to stay together for a decade.”

Alice and Suzanne exchanged knowing glances.  

“I haven’t seen Olivia today, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t here,” said Alice.  “I’m sure Juliette and Mark would have invited her; but there’s so many people milling about.”

“Olivia’s here,” confirmed Suzanne.  “I saw her in church.  She and her date were sat in our row at the opposite end of the pew.”

_She was at the end of our pew during the entire ceremony, and it never even occurred to me!  I’m such an idiot._

Donna used the heel of her hand to lightly smack her forehead.  “Crap!  I never thought to look in our own pew!”

“You aren’t the only curious one, Lovely.  I caught her checking _you_ out,” whispered Suzanne, glancing around the room to make sure they weren’t being overheard.  “Hush, ladies!  Here come the guys! They managed to find us on their own.”

“The last thing we need is for them to catch us gossiping about Ben’s ex!” said Alice quietly as she smiled and waved the men over to their group.

_How about that?_   _Ms. Poulet was checking me out.  I guess she’s as curious about me as I am about her,_ Thought Donna as Benedict came over and wrapped his arm around her shoulders and gave her a deep kiss.  He tasted of his Fortnum and Mason chocolate mints.

"Hello, Handsome," Donna smiled up at him. "Mmmm you not only look good enough to eat but taste good, too."

"I brought along a tin of my mints.  Fresh breath is a must for an usher.  You never know who you're going to have to kiss at these things."

"The only person you'd better be kissing on the lips is me, Ben Honey."

Benedict smiled at her and indicated her glass.  "What are you drinking?"

"Some sort of fruity punch thing," replied Donna.

"That was very descriptive, Darling.  You must remember to use it in one of your columns."

"I forgot the name; but it's mighty tasty.  Try it,"  she said, offering the glass to him.

Benedict took the glass and shuddered as he took a sip.  "Christ.  That tastes like fairy pee. They're stingy with the liquor."

"You're just used to your dad's strong drinks."

"True. I'd really fancy a pisco sour."

"I think you're out of luck. They just closed the bar from what I can see from here."  

Benedict turned and looked in the direction Donna had indicated with her head. "Oh, well.  I'm sure they'll be a cash bar inside where they're having the dinner. "Shall we go see where our table is then?"

Donna smiled at him.  "You read my mind, Ben Honey."

 

********************************************************

 

"I thought the bride looked lovely - that had to be a bespoke gown, don't you think? And the groom was certainly a handsome specimen," declared comedian Tom Allen. "That was definitely one of the best-dressed bridal parties I've seen.  What about you?"

Tom sighed deeply as his companion failed to acknowledge his comments once again and looked about the room instead. 

"There's nothing worse than having to make small talk with yourself," he continued. 

Once again, the woman standing by his side ignored him as she craned her neck in order to see something or someone to their left.

“I think I’m going to call for a cab,” huffed comedian Tom Allen.

Olivia Poulet stood nibbling on her grilled prawn skewer that had been marinated in olive oil, garlic and chilies, her blue eyes sweeping the room once again.

Tom shook his head and laughed. “You didn’t hear a word I just said yes?”

“Hmmm…what was that you said?” inquired Olivia, turning towards him.

“I said I’m going home.”

Olivia swallowed and regarded him with a worried frown.  “Why?  Don’t tell me you’re coming down with the flu now.”

“No.  I feel fine.  I just don’t think you want nor need my company tonight.”

“That’s rubbish, Tom!  I thought we were having a grand time so far.”

“Hmm…I think Roger is having a far better time at home.”

“Oh, come on, Tom!  Be nice!  Poor Roger is sick as a dog.”

“I agreed to be your date because you promised me a good time, Love.”

“I think I delivered admirably so far! The food is delicious, the drinks aren’t watered down for once, there’s a lovely string quartet playing soothing music and these decorations are so…so…so…”

“Pretentious – with a capital P,” laughed Tom.

Olivia leaned in closer to whisper to him.  “Pretentious was being kind, Darling.  I’ve never seen anything so over-the-top in my fucking life!”

“Liv, all that you said has been true; but it’s your company that I’ve been looking forward to.  We haven’t seen each other in an age; so this seemed like the perfect time to have a good catch up.  However, I feel as if I’ve been here alone.”

Olivia frowned at him.  “What do you mean by that?”

“I don’t think you realize that ever since we entered the church, your attention has been decidedly elsewhere.”

Olivia blinked in surprise as she as paused to sip her drink.  A sudden pang of guilt suddenly engulfed her as she regarded her dear friend before her.

_He’s right, of course.  All I’ve done ever since we’ve arrived is look for Donna Saint James.  Why am I doing this?  I’ve already gotten a look at her in the church. No, I want to have a proper look at her…I also want to see her interacting with Ben.  I’m dying to see how they get on…or not._

“I’m so sorry, Tom.  I should be better company than I am; but you’re right.  I am somewhat distracted.” 

“Not somewhat distracted – _completely_ ,” corrected Tom gently.  “I’m sure if I were to vanish into thin air, you’d be none the wiser.”

“That’s not true!  You’ve got the claim tickets for our coats,” she said with a half-smile. 

Tom smiled at her.  “Oh well, it’s good to know that I’m needed for something.”

“For fucks sake!  I was joking!”  Olivia hugged him.  “I don’t mean to ignore you, Tom, really, I don’t.  I’ll try and not let myself be distracted any longer and concentrate solely on you.”

“Fair enough.  However, I want to know what or who is vying for your attention.  I hope to hell it’s not your old amour, Benedict Cumberbatch.  I would hate to have to tell Roger that you’re still pining away for him.”

“Ben?  No!  Of course not!  It’s been well over two years since we’ve been together.  We’ve both moved on romantically. We’re just good friends now,” Olivia insisted vehemently.

"I thought Ben looked smashing today.  The longer, dark hair really suits him, don't you think?"

"Actually, I didn't notice it."

“Well, if you weren't looking at Ben or the bride; then who  _has_ claimed your undivided attention?  It certainly wasn’t the bride, even though she looks lovely.  You’ve been scanning the guests incessantly – and you still are for Christ’s sake!”

Olivia sighed deeply.  “Bloody hell! I can see that I can’t pull the wool over your eyes. Alright then – if you must know.”

“I must.  I need to report back to Roger.”

“What in the fuck is this reporting back to Roger shit about?”

“I promised that I’d give him a full report as to what he missed tonight.  He knows Ben was going to be here, and he’s terribly jealous.”

“Roger has nothing to be jealous about, Tom.  You know that better than anyone.”

“Do I?”

“Yes, you do.  I swear the only feelings I have left for Ben are those of friendship.  I love him the way that I love you.”

“I was hoping you loved me more.”

“Bugger off!  You know damn well what I meant.”

“Alright then, enough talk of your ex.  Tell me who your pretty blue eyes are searching for?”

Olivia finished her prawn skewer and sighed with annoyance. 

“Fuck.  I feel like a dolt for having to admit this; but it’s Ben’s fiancée who I’ve been searching for.”

Tom looked surprised and began to titter.  “You want to check out Ben’s fiancée to make sure she’s worthy of him.”

“No!” insisted Olivia.

“Oh, you want to make sure he’s worthy of her yes?”

“NO! I’m just…curious about her is all.”

“What’s there to be curious about?  Donna Saint James is one of the London Tribune's most popular restaurant critics.  I faithfully read her column every Sunday and have taken her recommendations many times.”

“I wanted to see what she looked like is all.”

“I thought you already got a decent look at her in church.”

“What do you mean?”

“I'm not clueless you know.  I happen to be very observant. Donna Saint James was sat at the opposite end of our pew.  You kept staring at her throughout the ceremony; so I surmised that was Ben’s fiancée."  Tom paused to clear his throat. " I thought she was rather pretty,” he added.

Olivia sniffed and tossed her hair over her shoulders.  “I didn’t get a proper look at her.  I want to see her up close.”

“Ah ha!  You want to see if she’s lovelier than you are, which is impossible being you’re the fairest woman here.”

“Thank you, Tom!  I knew there was a very good reason why we’ve remained friends for as long as we have. That was a very sweet thing to say.”

“Well, it’s true.”

Olivia smiled and crinkled her pug nose at him.  “Do you forgive me for being rude then?”

“Of course,” said Tom, kissing her on the cheek.  “The drinks reception is just about over.  Shall we go see where they've sat us?”

“Yes, we should.”

“If we don’t like who they’ve put us with, we can change up the cards, provided no one else is lurking about,” Tom teased her as they left the room. 

"Wouldn't that be fun!  If only we had the bollocks to actually do something like that."

"I've got an even better idea.  We can check out the cards to see what table Donna Saint James is at."

Olivia smiled widely at her old friend and nodded.

"May I ask why you’re grinning like the Cheshire Cat?”

Olivia Poulet put her arm around her friend's waist as they walked towards the lift that would take them to the ground floor.  “I’m smiling because, Tom dear, you just read my mind.”

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I have no idea if Benedict's hair dye for Sherlock was permanent or semi-permanent. Being he didn't have any gray hair to speak of that I could see, I opted for semi-permanent.
> 
> 2\. I did some research on UK weddings and hats for women seemed to be an optional thing. If I'm wrong, let me know as I'm curious.
> 
> 3\. In real-life the elevator ride wouldn't have been that long; but I needed to cram in my dialog. :-)
> 
> 4\. The Royal Exchange is the site of the infamous "Thriller-Batch" leaked video that was hacked from Olivia Poulet.
> 
> 5\. I've never been inside the Royal Exchange; so all the details of the wedding reception is mostly fictional with a bit taken from their website.
> 
> 6\. Yes, I had to bring Andrew Scott back because I love him and we're getting closer to Sherlock. 
> 
> 7\. It was time for Donna and Olivia to meet.
> 
> 8\. I got the idea to make Tom Allen Olivia's date from a photograph of the two of them I had found online. It was taken at the National Youth Theatre fundraiser at the Bloomsbury Hotel on November 23, 2015 in London.
> 
> 9\. At the time of the Thriller-Batch wedding, Olivia and Benedict were still together. Being this is a different universe, and I wanted to use the photo, I gave her fictional boyfriend, Roger, the flu; and had Tom stand in as her date.
> 
> 10\. Olivia's personality is fictional - there wasn't too much I could find on line to get a real "feel" for her.
> 
> 11\. There weren't a lot of good photos of Benedict in a morning suit, so I used the ones from "The Sign of Three" episode of Sherlock.


	167. Chapter 167

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Donna and Benedict attend Mark and Juliette Chaplin’s wedding at London’s Royal Exchange – Part 2. Benedict and Donna are seated with Olivia. Donna fills Carly in on the wedding.
> 
> Note: I’ll be using *************** for things happening at the same time.

 

 

At the close of the drinks reception, the wedding guests were directed to take the lifts down to the ground floor, where the dinner and night do were to be held in the enclosed courtyard.  Donna Saint James and Benedict Cumberbatch followed the crowd to a medium-sized round table that contained the place cards.  

_Oh boy!  Now, I’ll see where Olivia is sitting!  I wish these people would hurry up and take their damn cards! Why must they stop and read them before moving on?_

“I wonder which table they put us at,” said Donna.  “I hope we’re sitting together, and you don’t have to sit on a dais.” 

“I doubt they’ll set it up like that, Sweetheart.  They’ll have their parents sat on the dais with the Chief Bridesmaid and Best Man; and since Mark’s brother is the Best Man, I don’t think we have anything to worry about, except for his speech perhaps,” whispered Benedict.  

“I thought the highlight of an English wedding reception is the Best Man’s toast or should I say roast of the groom.” 

Benedict chuckled.  “Oh it is.  It’s just that Mark’s brother has never been very outgoing; so I don’t know how comfortable Geoff will be with having a go at him - even though we’ve given him plenty of material to work with.” 

“Somehow I don’t visualize Adam having any trouble when it comes to giving your Best Man speech,” giggled Donna. 

“That’s what I’m terrified of.” 

“I’d be more afraid of what my father is going to say if I were you."

“Christ.  I never even considered that. Perhaps we should keep to American wedding speech-giving traditions.” 

“My father would still be giving a speech.” 

“That’s just fucking brilliant.” 

“I think you’re being sarcastic.” 

Benedict nodded.  “True. I just have to remember that these speeches are done in good fun and not to get my knickers in a twist over anything said about me.” 

“That’s the best attitude to have, Benedict.  You just sit there and enjoy the good-natured barbs.” 

“Besides, I get to speak last,” he said with a cheeky grin.  “Your father had better be mindful of what he says about me.” 

“You’re going to make a speech?” 

“Well, if we decide to keep with the traditional English wedding breakfast speeches; yeah, the groom makes a speech as well to thank the bride’s family for hosting the wedding.” 

“There’s so much potential for words to be misinterpreted,” Donna said worriedly.  “Maybe we should dispose of the speeches altogether or just let Adam make a quick toast to wish us luck.” 

“Fat chance of that happening,” said Benedict with a smirk.  “Adam wouldn't miss this opportunity for the world.  Besides I’m looking forward to saying a few words.”

_Oh, Ben Honey, if there's one thing I'm certain of, it's that you will never be able to say just a few words.  The orchestra will have to start playing music to cut you off like they do when Oscar winners give long-winded thank you speeches._

“I wish this line would move quicker!  You know, I bet the tables will be named after flowers,” whispered Donna as they slowly made their way to the front of the line for the table cards.  “Finally!” Her eyes impatiently roamed over the beautifully hand-written calligraphy on the cards, searching for their names and Olivia’s.  

“Bloody hell!  You’re right!  Here we are.  We’re both sat at the Rose Table,” laughed Benedict reaching for the card and handing it to her.  “So you can stop worrying about us being separated.” 

Donna’s eyes were drawn to the area where Benedict had picked up the card.  The only other card for the Rose Table left was for Adam and Alice Ackland, who stood behind them.  Benedict picked up their card and handed it to Adam. 

“You two are with us,” said Benedict. “We’ve been sat at the Rose table in keeping with the floral theme.” 

Dennis walked over to them, sniffling into his handkerchief.  “Is everyone at the Rose Table?” 

Benedict nodded affirmatively.   “So it appears.  Where’s Suzanne?” 

“She’s already gone in search of our table and will text us as soon as she locates it.  I've never seen so many tables at a wedding breakfast!  Just wait until you see the setup!” 

“Let’s go have a wander around then!" Alice suggested, tugging her husband’s arm.  “I’m dying to see how they did it up in there!”

 

The two couples followed Dennis into the courtyard, which housed the Grand Café and bar.  There was a large oval bar in the center with one end of the courtyard set up for the night-do and the other end set up for the dinner.  Around the immediate perimeter of the courtyard were upscale boutiques.  The upper floors over-looked the large open space and housed offices in addition to some additional shops and eateries.   The retail spaces all appeared to be closed, making the wedding the only event going on inside.  Dennis suddenly excused himself when his mobile began to ring. 

“It’s the sitter.  Let me see what’s going on at home.  Excuse me.” 

“Christ, Dennis wasn't taking the piss.  There are a lot of tables in here!” said Adam in amazement.  “I just assumed they would use one end for the reception and night do, not both!” 

“For fucks sake! Exclaimed Benedict as he gazed around the courtyard in awe. “It’s like they transported the Chelsea Flower Show here!  It’s fantastic!” 

“It’s simply brilliant!” Sighed Alice.  “How very, very lovely it is!” 

“Holy cow!” said Donna, walking among the tables as she marveled at the decorations.  “I hope our table has one of these pink flower displays!” 

“I don’t see a dais,” observed Adam. 

“They have one of those sweetheart tables for just the two of them,” said Alice, pointing towards a slightly raised platform.  “That’s so romantic.” 

“I don’t know how romantic that is,” said Adam.  “Everyone can watch them eat and snog.” 

“However, they can also see everything that’s going on from there,” remarked Benedict. 

“I wouldn’t want to be up there on display like that,” declared Donna.  “If we decide on a sweetheart table, it’s not going to be on a raised dais.” 

“Our room is much smaller,” Benedict reminded her.  “The more I think about it, the more I’m leaning towards sitting at a table with our bridal party and their companions.” 

“We have a large bridal party, Ben.  We’re not going to all fit at one table.  It will have to be split into two tables.” 

“We had both sets of parents on our dais,” said Alice.  “Along with my Chief Bridesmaid and the Best Man, who was Ben.” 

“That’s because you both get on with each other’s families,” snickered Benedict.  “We’re a bit different in that regard.  Ours fare better if separated we’ve found.” 

Donna nodded her agreement.  “Limited contact between our parents is definitely the way to go, which is why we decided to let them host their own tables of family and friends.” 

“And they were all over the moon for the idea,” added Benedict.  

“I’m sure they’ll all make it a point to get on at your wedding and push any animosity aside,” said Adam. 

“A lot you don’t know,” snorted Benedict. "Mum will be looking for any excuse to have a go at Neil."

“My parents are famous for not letting any perceived slight go," added Donna.  "Real or imagined."

“Well, in that case, I’ll volunteer to act as referee,” said Adam. “Isn’t that what a Best Man is for – to make sure things go smoothly and the parents hold their tongues?” 

“Christ! That’s not even funny,” snapped Benedict as he and Donna exchanged horrified glances.   

“Donna!  Look at the wedding cake!” said Alice, sensing a distraction was in order.  She pointed to the cake table, which was situated in front of the dais.  “I love all the roses covering the base. It’s magnificent!” 

“There’s a candy table, too!”  Said Donna as she took Alice by the hand and led her over to it.  

“I must save room for all these sweet treats,” said Alice as they perused the contents of the glass jars and displays set out on the table.  “I adore the groom’s cake!  What a brilliant idea to make it out of gingerbread.” 

“It’s so unique and cute!” exclaimed Donna as Benedict and Adam came to stand beside them.  “Don’t you just love it, Honey?” 

Benedict nodded.  “It’s certainly different.” 

“You know, it really is quite lovely in here in spite of the excess,” declared Adam, nicking a truffle covered in chopped hazelnuts off one of the plates and popping it into his mouth.  “Mmm…these are ridiculous!  You’ve got to taste these, Ben.  They’re filled with Frangelico.” 

Alice batted her husband’s hand away from the display.  “Stop that!  You both can eat your fill later.” 

“Here comes Dennis.  Is everything alright at home?” asked Benedict. 

“Yeah.  All’s fine.  Suzanne also texted me that she’s found our table!” replied Dennis rejoining them.  

“Could everyone kindly take their seats please,” announced the DJ over a microphone.  “The Bride and Groom will be making their entrance shortly.” 

“I do believe that applies to us,” said Dennis. “This way everyone; we’re the third table on the left.” 

“I thought this was where the stock exchange was,” Donna whispered to Benedict as they trailed after the others towards their table, which was across the room.  

“It was originally more of a marketplace for tradesmen and merchants.  This is the third complex to occupy the site and was recently remodeled in 2001.  They reconstructed the courtyard to add all these posh shops along its perimeter. Now, it’s just a retail centre that’s closed on weekends.  We’re the only ones here.” 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been to a wedding reception in the middle of an upscale shopping mall,” Donna whispered to Benedict as she spotted the Cartier sign.  “This is a first.” 

“There they are,” said Benedict as they caught up with the others.  He suddenly stopped short, causing Donna to stop short in turn just behind him.  She peered around him in order to take in the scene before her.  Benedict’s friends were all gathered around a couple, excitedly exchanging hugs and double-cheeked kisses. 

_Who in the hell are they all making such a fuss over?_ _I wish I could see who it is!  Maybe it’s Mark’s brother and his wife,_ thought Donna. 

Alice smiled and waved them over to join the group.  “Here they are!  You know Ben’s always the last one,” she laughed, moving aside so Donna could get a clear look at who the comment had been aimed at. It was none other than the person she had been searching for all day – Olivia Poulet. 

 

***********************************************

  

“This is like being sat in the midst of a garden center,” quipped Tom, as he gazed around the courtyard.  “Imagine what God could do if only he had this kind of money!” 

Olivia raised an eyebrow at him.  “You mean if _she_ had this kind of money.” 

“Pardon me.  I didn’t realize you were acquainted.” 

Olivia burst out laughing.  “I was kidding you tit!  I know what you mean about being sat in a garden center!  It really is so unbelievably gorgeous; but also so over-the-top.  I would never fancy having a wedding breakfast like this.” 

“Could everyone kindly take their seats please,” announced the DJ over a microphone.  “The Bride and Groom will be making their entrance shortly.” 

“Looks like we’re the only ones at this table so far,” observed Tom. “Does that mean we get to take home all the extra favours that were meant for the no shows?” he inquired hopefully as he picked up the small box of chocolates.  “I adore William Curley chocolates!” 

“Not to worry, the others will be along now that they’ve made the announcement.  Ben is never on time; so he’s probably holding everyone else up.” 

“I’m looking forward to meeting your friends and seeing Benedict again.” 

“Technically, they’re Ben’s friends who became my friends over the years we were together,” explained Olivia.  “They’re all very nice and friendly; so I’m sure you’ll get on with them just fine.” 

“I was surprised that they put you and your ex at the same table.” 

“I’m not.  Like I said, we’re all still friendly – even Ben and I have kept in touch.” 

“I’m sure Roger loves that,” snorted Tom.

“He doesn’t.” 

“I know.  Remember, Roger's my best friend so he tells me everything.” 

“Roger still can’t comprehend that Ben and I will always love each other as friends.  There’s a strong bond between us.” 

“Ah, there – to the right.  I do believe that woman with the dark hair is making her way to our table.  She just waved at us.” 

“Oh my Gawd!  That’s Suzanne Bretherton!  Dennis’ wife!  I haven’t seen her in an age!  We all went to Manchester together.” 

Olivia smiled and immediately got to her feet and hurried to greet the woman.  “Suzanne, Darling!  How long has it been?” 

Suzanne hugged her back tightly.  “Too fucking long! You look stunning, Love!” 

“As do you!  So, the gang is sitting together yes?” 

Suzanne nodded.  “I figured Mark and Juliette would have us all sat at the same table.  Ben’s with us, too.” 

“I know.  We got to the table first, so I saw all the place cards.” 

“His fiancée is with him.” 

“I know, Suze, I was sitting in the same pew as you in the church.”  _And I can't wait to see her closeup and interacting with Ben._

“Hey!” exclaimed Adam Ackland, wrapping Olivia in a bear hug.  “How are you. Lovely?” 

“Brilliant!  You’re looking very fit and happy, Adam.  Where’s your better half?” 

“Here I am, Liv!  I’m lovin’ your dress!” said Alice, hugging her. 

“Thanks, Love. I was going to say the same about yours. Isn’t it nice that we’re all going to be sat at the same table?  Now we can have a proper catch up.  So, unfortunately, Roger can’t be here tonight as he’s down with the flu; but Tom has graciously agreed to fill in for him.” 

Olivia was busy introducing everyone to Tom, when all of a sudden, she felt someone tap her on the shoulder.  It was a touch she was intimately familiar with.  She smiled as she turned and gazed up into Benedict Cumberbatches’ twinkling ice blue eyes. 

“Fucking hell, Liv!  I had no idea you’d be sat at our table!  What an epic surprise this is!” 

 

***********************************************

  

Donna patted Benedict on the butt in order to move him forward; but he just stood there for a moment, gawking at the scene before him as if trying to make up his mind whether it was a good or bad thing.  Then his face broke out into a huge grin and he walked up behind Olivia Poulet and tapped her on the shoulder.  She was smiling as she turned and looked up into his eyes. 

“Fucking hell, Liv!  I had no idea you’d be at our table!  What an epic surprise this is!” 

“How are you, Ben?”  Olivia asked him as they embraced and exchanged double-cheeked kisses. 

_They look genuinely happy to see each other.  Hmmm...I don't know that I like how she’s rubbing his back and he's holding onto her arms.  Those are very familiar gestures.  Stop being jealous, Donna!  They were together for over ten years and parted amicably.  What do you expect?  You know damn well that Roy or Danny would hug and kiss you if they came across you at an event._

Olivia released Benedict and reached out to touch his now dark brown hair. Her face wore a skeptical expression as she fingered his curls. 

“Hmmm…I’m not quite sure if I fancy all these unruly curls…” 

Donna felt herself suddenly seething _. Who asked Miss Olivia Poulet for her opinion?  That hair took me a good half hour to style!_ _I thought I did a great job at making Benedict’s hair look natural.  
_

“…or the colour.  It’s rather dark against your pale skin, don’t you think?” 

Benedict’s cheeks reddened slightly. “That’s the idea, Liv.  I’m supposed to look like this for _Sherlock_.  Next week is the table read of the first episode, followed by some rehearsals.  Then we head to Cardiff to start filming the following week.” 

Olivia gave him a smile and nodded.  “I suppose you can’t argue with the show’s creators when it comes to their vision for their character’s appearance.  How are you anyway?  Anything new happen since we last got together?” 

_They last got together the day they bumped into each other at the garden center.  It wasn’t that long ago – three, four week’s maybe.  Oh, I must remember to return her lipstick case to her,_ thought Donna.  _She looks taller than I am...she's actually kind of cute._

“I’m brilliant.  Fucking brilliant – and you?” 

_And he forgets that I’m standing here behind him.  Nice, Benedict.  I would think he’d be bursting to introduce us.  Alice and Suzanne look uncomfortable or am I imagining it.  
_

“Same,” said Olivia, peering around Benedict at Donna. “So, aren’t you going to introduce me to your fiancée, you tit?”

_Oh my God!  She just called him a tit in front of everyone!  It's as if he forgot about me.  I don't know how I feel about that.  Yes, you do.  You're pissed off._

Benedict suddenly felt Donna’s eyes boring into his back. 

_SHIT!  My prime objective should have been to make introductions prior to greeting Olivia.  Now, Donna will get stropy that I didn’t make introductions straight away.  I wouldn’t blame her for feeling slighted under the circumstances._

Benedict quickly turned to Donna and smiled sheepishly at her as he took her by the hand.  She smiled thinly back at him. 

_It’s too late. She’s stropy.  Fuck me._

“This is Donna Saint James, my fiancée.  Donna, Darling, this is Olivia Poulet, my…”  Benedict hesitated as his mind grappled for an appropriate word. 

_Friend?  No.  The woman I used to date?  Well, sort of…but Liv was more than that.  My former partner?  No, that makes it sound akin to a business arrangement. My former lover?  Hell no! That description will be sure to make Donna uncomfortable.  Maybe having Olivia sat at our table wasn’t such a good idea in hindsight.  
_

“Former girlfriend,” finished Olivia.  “It’s okay.  You can say it, Ben. Your tongue won't shrivel up and fall out of your mouth.” 

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck.  “Erm…that just seemed …rather awkward.  Shit.”

Olivia stepped forward and smiled at Donna.  

“Hi Donna!  I’ve heard so many lovely things about you from Ben that I couldn't wait to finally meet you!  He’s completely besotted with you,” she said while extending her hand towards Donna. “I’ve never seen him happier.” 

“I’ve been looking forward to meeting you one day,” said Donna, shaking the offered hand. 

“Bloody hell!  That’s some ring you’ve got there!” exclaimed Olivia, her mouth dropping open as she regarded Donna’s engagement ring. “Let me have a proper look at that!” she said, taking Donna’s left hand in hers and studying it closely.   She looked up at Benedict. “Did you rob a motherfucking bank, Ben? This ring is gorgeous - it's so unique!”

“My Gran Pauline left me her engagement ring when she passed,” explained Benedict.  “I just designed a new setting and had the center stone reset in the new ring.” 

“Well, fuck me! I would have stayed with you had I known I’d get a ring like this one day!” Olivia said in a teasing tone. 

"Well, you didn't; so your lose is Donna's gain," retorted Benedict testily.

_Oh, oh...this is getting uncomfortable and we've only said hello.  I can't wait for dinner,_ thought Donna.

Olivia noticed that neither Donna nor Benedict laughed at the joke. Only Adam started to titter; but Alice quickly silenced him with a poke to the ribs.  She felt herself blush. _Hmmm...Liv you need to mind your big mouth.  Now, I've gone and made them all uncomfortable._

“Well, this chap here sure as shit isn’t Roger,” chuckled Benedict, abruptly changing the subject and moving to shake hands with Tom.  “How in the hell are you, Tom?” 

“Quite well, thanks,” grinned Tom. “It’s been an age since we’ve last seen each other.” 

“Donna, let me introduce you to my date for tonight, Tom Allen,” said Olivia.  “You may have seen his work.” 

Donna stared at the man standing in front of her and her mind came up blank.  I _have no idea who this man is.  I thought her boyfriend’s name was Roger._

“I try and make my way in the world as a comedian primarily with a bit of acting on the side,” said Tom, blushing.  “But I don’t think I’m that recognizable.” 

Donna looked the man up and down.  “I’m sorry to say that I’m not familiar with your work.  I haven’t been in London all that long.” 

“Tom and I were in _Starter for Ten_ together,” Benedict hastily explained to Donna.  “So what became of Roger, Liv?  Did you give him the gate then?” 

Olivia rolled her eyes.  “Always the cheeky one, Ben.  That’s what I don’t miss about you.  Roger’s home with that awful flu that everyone seems to be coming down with.  He caught it from me, and let me tell you it’s bloody awful.  I felt as if I had gotten hit by a lorry.” 

Donna nodded.  “That’s why Benedict and I got our flu shots.  Who needs that?” 

Benedict glanced down at his shoes.  _Well, one of us did.  I don’t know why she worries so much, I’ve yet to get it,_ thought Benedict _. No one seems to have any shots left. It’s not like I didn’t try and get one.  I just tried to get one after it was too late.  
_

“All stand for the Bride and Groom, please,” came the DJ’s voice from the nearby speaker.  

“We’re already standing,” giggled Olivia. 

“Well done us,” added Benedict.  He crinkled his nose and gave her his lop-sided dimpled smile. 

_Well, well…my honey doesn’t just reserve that cute nose crinkle and smile for me,_ thought Donna.  

Olivia crinkled her nose back at Benedict and smiled. _  
_

Donna looked from Benedict to Olivia and back again.  They were both smiling at each other. _Holy crap!  They both do the nose crinkle!  I think I’m going to toss my cookies before this night is over._

“Ladies and Gentlemen, may I present for the first time:  Mr. and Mrs. Mark Chaplin,” announced the DJ. 

Everyone applauded as Juliette and Mark made their entrance and way to the dais and then took their seats.  

“Jolly good. Now we can eat!” Adam said to his table mates with glee.  “I’m famished.” 

“Shall we sit then?” Benedict said to Donna, pulling out a chair for her.

"What about the first dance?" Donna whispered to him. 

"That comes later." 

Donna found herself seated in between Adam and Benedict, who was seated beside Olivia. 

“Ah, this is lovely!  I adore round tables!” declared Olivia, looking around at her table mates.  “This will give us all a chance to have a proper catch up.  It’s been so long since I’ve seen most of you.”  Then she stared pointedly at Donna as she placed her serviette on her lap.  “Best of all, it’ll give us a chance to get to know each other, Donna.” 

“I couldn’t have asked for a better table myself,” agreed Donna. 

“Bloody hell!  We’ve got a whole fucking tree in the center of our table!” exclaimed Benedict as he regarded the table's lavish centerpiece. 

_Benedict sure is nervous.  He’s busy rubbing his thigh as if he’s afraid Olivia’s going to come out with something she shouldn’t._

Olivia reached out to pat Benedict’s forearm reassuringly.  “For fucks sake, Ben!  You can stop with the thigh rubbing.  I’m not going to say anything to embarrass you in front of Donna.  All your nasty little secrets will remain forever with me!” she joked. 

“And I trust you’ll keep your word,” hissed Benedict under his breath.   

Donna side-eyed her fiancé, who did not look happy with the situation he found himself in.  His lips were compressed into a tight line, and he began to rub the back of his neck. 

Olivia giggled.  “You don’t have to rub your neck either.  I swear that I won’t say anything inappropriate to Donna,” she whispered to him in a low voice that could still be heard by Donna.  “How can I convince you of that I won’t so you can relax?” 

“How about you just don’t say anything at all?” snapped a disgruntled Benedict. “That would make me happiest.”

Olivia rolled her eyes.  "Since keeping silent would prevent me from getting to know Donna, I don't think that will be possible."

“Foccaccia anyone?” asked Alice, passing a basket of bread to her husband and elbowing him.   Her eyes met Donna’s and she shrugged as if to say Benedict and Olivia were acting normally towards each other.  

Adam quickly helped himself to a piece of the caramelized onion and sun-dried tomato flecked bread and passed the basket to Donna, who in turn tapped Benedict on the arm.  

“Would you like some focaccia, Honey?” 

“Oh, Ben loves his bread, bless him,” said Olivia.  “One time we tried baking our own, but it was an epic disaster.  Remember, Ben?  We had such a domestic over it and afterwards we …”  

“Did nothing,” spat Benedict.  “We did nothing at all but clean the kitchen and do the washing up.”

Olivia elbowed him, giggled and ate some bread.  She looked at Donna underneath her lashes as if to gauge her reaction.

_She's openly baiting him and he's reacting. I bet they had wild makeup sex,_ thought Donna, taking a bite of bread.  _If Ben’s face got any redder, it would match the rose on his lapel.  He’s pissed at her.  He just wants her to shut the fuck up; but I don’t want her to.  I need to know why they broke up, and they’re off to a good start in illustrating why.  
_

Adam leaned over and whispered into Donna’s ear.  “In spite of what you’ve just witnessed, they really do get on… for the most part.” 

“I find that hard to believe,” snickered Donna in a barely audible voice. 

“Just wait until they’ve both had a few drinks,” whispered back Adam. 

"Oh, I think you've forgotten that afternoon, Ben." Olivia barked out a laugh.  “We wound up tossing balls of dough at each other and laughed our arses off until we cried.  We were covered in dough and the kitchen was a motherfucking mess!” 

The expression on Benedict’s face momentarily softened at the memory, and he nodded. "True, that."

"And then we made up...the way most couples do," she added.

_Thank you, Olivia, for making sure I knew you and Benedict definitely had makeup sex. Like I couldn't figure it out for myself.  Jeez Louise!_

Benedict turned his attention back to Donna.  “Yes, I think I will have a piece of bread, please; and some of that olive oil to dip it in.” 

“You shouldn’t dip it in the olive oil – you have to fit into your costumes for _Sherlock_ ,” warned Olivia, pushing the little dish of red-pepper flecked, basil-flavoured oil out of his reach.

Donna looked at her with a quizzical expression.  Someone was talking about Sherlock to her.

"You can cease with the daggers, Ben.  You were the one who was bitching to me about how tight they made your costumes. Olive oil has loads of calories.” 

Benedict glared at her and stood up in order to retrieve the dish.  “I didn’t know I was dining with Beth tonight!” 

“Oh, oh, who in the hell is Beth?” Demanded Olivia.  "And do I want to be compared with her?"

"No!" everyone at the table responded to her with laughter.

“Beth was this obsessive bird he was dating right before he met Donna,” laughed Dennis. 

“She was the one with the long nails who was forever harping on Ben about his unhealthy life style,” added Adam.  “Tap, tap, tap – she drove him bonkers with the incessant tapping of those claws – not to mention the scratches and…” 

“Jesus Christ,” breathed Benedict.  “Are you rehearsing your Best Man’s speech already?” he asked Adam with a raised eyebrow. 

_Oh, Beth!  Yes, the one who scratched and bit him during sex!_   Thought Donna.  _She was such a smug bitch from what he said.  
_

“I don’t think we need to take a trip down Memory Lane, Mate,” Benedict snarled at Adam. 

“Oh, Ben!  Just when things were getting interesting! Stop being such a sourpuss!  Don’t you know good-natured teasing when you hear it?” asked Olivia. 

“No.  Apparently not.” 

Tom cleared his throat as if sensing things were going to erupt between Olivia and Benedict.   “So, tell me about _Sherlock_ , Ben.  I’d love to hear about the premise of the show.” 

Benedict looked grateful and relieved at the opportunity to change the topic.  “Well, I can only tell you so much because I had to sign an NDA…” 

“That's bollocks! Since when would having signed an NDA ever stop you from spilling the beans?” laughed Olivia. 

_Ever since it cost him all that money_ , thought Donna. 

“Since…” 

Olivia playfully wagged her finger at him.  “Secrets mean nothing to you, Benedict Cumberbatch.”  

Benedict was rapidly becoming flustered by her teasing. “Why that’s utterly preposterous!” he blurted out. 

“Is it though? You come out with everything sooner or later.” 

“And you don’t?” Benedict demanded. 

“Don’t you just love the bridesmaids dresses?” asked Suzanne.  “They’re so colourful.” 

“They’re lovely, and I like that they can wear them again. I wonder if the girls had any say in them,” said Alice.  

“There is nothing worse than getting stuck with a hideous dress you’ll never be able or want to wear again,” chimed in Olivia. 

“I think we’ve all had that experience,” chuckled Alice. 

“I was just a bridesmaid for one of my best friends, and the dress she chose was a nightmare!  I tend to donate it to a charity shop,” continued Olivia.  “I hope you’re not going to do anything like that to your girls, Donna.” 

“As a matter of fact, I let them pick out whatever style dress they wanted. I only requested that they keep to our color scheme.” 

“Which is?” asked Olivia. 

“Silver and white is the color scheme for the reception; so I thought shades of gray would be nice and go with the guys’ morning suits.” 

“That was very kind of you to give your bridesmaids that much freedom to sort it out amongst themselves,” said Suzanne. 

“Actually, they found themselves at a standoff,” laughed Donna.  “Half the group had picked out a street-length dress and the other half picked out a long gown; so they asked me to be the tie-breaker.” 

“Which one did you pick then?” asked Alice. 

“You’ll have to wait until the wedding to find out,” said Donna.  “I want it to be a surprise.” 

“You can tell me when they’re not around,” stage-whispered Olivia.  “I won’t tell a soul.” 

Donna nodded.  “Okay.  I’ve got a photo of the dress on my cellphone; so I can show it to you later.” 

“You’ll find I’m ace at minding secrets,” Olivia assured her. 

“Now, that’s bollocks! You’ve always been rubbish at minding secrets!” snorted Benedict. 

“I think I’m far better at minding secrets than you ever were.” 

Benedict gave a bitter laugh.  “Yeah, like that time when you were going behind my…” 

“You must be thinking of the afternoon I went around to the Almeida with a peace offering in an attempt to try and patch things up between us – _again_ , yes?” 

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck.  “Erm…that wasn’t the scenario I had in mind.  I was thinking of them time when you…” 

“Well, I was specifically referring to when you were in _Hedda Gabler_ ; and I caught you…” 

“Stop being such a twat!” snapped Benedict.  “No one gives a toss about our past history.” 

_I do!  I do!_ Thought Donna.  _I wanted her to finish the sentence; but it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that the story is probably true; and she found him and his co-star in a compromising position._

“You’re the one who’s being a twat, Ben!” 

“Whose idea was it to have you sat at my table?” 

“Juliette or Mark, I would think.” 

“That was a poor choice on their part then,” snickered Benedict.  “I’ve been blessed tonight!  I get to travel down Memory Lane with you over all the bumps and ruts in the fucking road of life.” 

_Oh boy, it’s gonna be a long night if they keep this supposed friendly bickering up,_ thought Donna.  _Everyone looks so uncomfortable.They're starting to give me a headache.  How can Adam sit there and tell me that they really do get along?  He must automatically tune them out._

Everyone sat quietly eating their bread and trying not to look at Benedict or Olivia.  Donna could feel the tension simmering away between the pair.   She made an attempt at small talk with Benedict; but he blatantly ignored her in favor of his bread.  

_Okay.  He’s grumpy now.  I guess I’ll sit here and eat my bread until the appetizers are served, which I now hope is soon._

“I’m sorry for the bickering, everyone,” began Olivia.  “This isn’t the time or place to drudge up potentially embarrassing stories. I guess old habits die hard, don’t they Ben?  We were saying that the last time we saw each other.  We keep falling into the old patterns like clockwork.”  She smiled at him fondly. 

_As long as you weren’t falling into bed together_ , thought Donna.  _I’ve got to get a handle on this jealousy.  I don’t want to feel this way.  She's done nothing to me._

“Yes, it certainly looks like it,” Agreed Benedict. “I apologize for my contribution as well.” 

_Hmmm…I’d love to get Olivia alone and ask her about where their relationship went wrong.  Maybe I can sneak outside to make a call to Carly.  I’d love her advice._

 

 

Two hours later, Donna Saint James stood behind a potted leafy tree down the hall from the Ladies Restroom quietly chatting with her sister while keeping an eye out for anyone she knew. 

_"The bride’s gown sounds stunning, Donna!”_ exclaimed Carly. _“I bet Ben looked very handsome in his…what do they call them?”_

“His morning suit,” replied Donna, shifting her cellphone from one ear to the other.  “And yes, he does look very handsome, even though he hates the way his hair looks.” 

_“I kind of like his long, dark hair.  I can’t wait to see the photos.”  
_

“Don’t worry, I took plenty.  Especially of…” 

_“So what did you have to eat so far?”_   

“The first course was a choice between a steamed ricotta soufflé with aged Parmesan cream and shaved black Norcia truffles or lightly smoked duck on a bed of arugula with aged balsamic vinegar,” replied Donna patiently.  “I had the soufflé and Benedict had the duck so we could share.  Both were excellent.  Now, let me tell you about who was sitting…” 

_“What else did you have?”_

“There was an asparagus soup that was served to everybody with a perfectly poached egg and garnished with fresh dill.  I personally would have liked it hotter and with a touch more dill.  Anyway, I wanted to ask your opinion…” 

_“Whoa hoa!  That was only half the meal. What were the entrees?  Did you have a choice?”_

“Yep.  Oh, I almost forgot – there was a palate cleanser of Sicilian lemon sorbet right before the main course.” 

_“I like palate cleansers.”  
_

“So do I.” 

_“You should have one at your wedding.  Remember how good mine was?”_

“I loved yours.  Benedict and I are going to have one as well, and it will be green apple and Calvados sorbet.” 

“That’s different.” 

“That’s why Jamie and Genaro suggested it.  Anyway, we were presented with three choices:  Ben had the filet Mignon with balsamic-roasted shallots, gremolata and osso bucco sauce.  I had the roasted rump of lamb with lemon and mint and a Barolo jus.” 

_“Lamb’s a tough one to get right.  Is that why you ordered it?  To see if they would fuck it up?”_

Donna laughed.  “You know me well, Curly Carly.  The kitchen did not let me down.  The lamb was served juicy and pink throughout.  The other choice was a Bergamot risotto with Amalfi lemon, mandarin and blood oranges; it came with Sicilian red shrimp and was drizzled with good quality basil-infused olive oil.  The side dishes were served family-style and consisted of sautéed green beans and wilted spinach; and boiled potatoes with smoked rosemary butter and black pepper - all unmemorable.”

_“Oooo the risotto sounded very interesting.  I would have ordered that.”_

“Even though the other dishes were both very good; the risotto was the clear winner.  Everyone who had it raved. I was lucky that Olivia shared some of hers with me.  Now, as I have been trying to tell you…” 

_“Whoa hoa here!  Did you say Olivia shared her risotto with you?  You mean ‘the’ Olivia as in the ‘ex-long-time partner’ of your fiancé?”_

“The very one.  I’ve been trying to tell you; but all you’re interested in is the fucking food and what the bride was wearing!” 

_“You can dispense with the wedding details. Tell me all about Olivia!  How is she dressed?  Was she nice to you? What did you talk about?  How did she interact with Ben?  Did they seat her at your table?  They must have if you were sharing risotto!”_

“Okay.  Yes, Olivia and her date were at our table.  Her boyfriend was home sick with the flu; so an old friend, who happened to be in a film with Benedict, filled in.  I thought she looked fine and was very cut.  She was wearing a nice black dress with lace sleeves and a cream-colored crocheted shawl over it. We talked about a lot of different things – like the project she’s recently working on, the wedding, our wedding plans, my job, _Sherlock_ – everyone’s jobs and families to be honest. You have to remember that she was part of Benedict’s crowd for a long time.  They all know each other very well.” 

_“And???  I’m dying of suspense here, Donna!  What were your impressions of her?”_

“Well, as much as I came prepared to dislike her; I don’t.  I found Olivia to be very funny and interesting to talk to.  She was very nice and friendly to me; and she and Benedict actually do get along – in spite of a rocky start.  I suspect their having a few drinks helped in that department.” 

_“Where’s Ben? I thought he’d be stuck to you like glue.”_

“He usually is, but now that he saw with his own eyes that Olivia and I weren’t going to kill each other; he went out with one of his friends in search of a drug store.” 

“Why?” 

“His friend, Dennis’ allergies were triggered by all the flowers in here; so he went in search of Benadryl.  Benedict went along to keep him company and to get some fresh air. This gave me the opportunity to pretend I had to use the bathroom and phone in my report.” 

_“From behind the potted plants, no doubt.”_

“Shut up, _Carla_!  Where else can I hide that acts as camouflage and gives me a good vantage point at the same time?” 

_“The Orangery.  I remember when Grandpa said you were hiding behind the orange trees they have inside the time you all had tea there; but he could clearly see you.”  
_

“Thanks for jogging my memory. That was a dumb hiding place now that I think about it.  All the foliage was near the top of those trees.” 

_“The Orangery really does have a lot of hiding place options for you.  I also recall your telling me about when you hid behind their bushes in order to spy on Wanda and Tim.”  
_

“I don’t recall that,” said Donna in a small voice. _Is my sister going to dredge up every single one of my failed spy missions?  
_

_“That was during the period when you were convinced that Wanda and Tim were married to different people and having an affair with each other. That was after she interviewed you over tea. You told me that you almost broke her foot and blinded her.”_

“Since you really seem intent on reviewing all of my embarrassing moments, did you forget that I also got poor Timothy with the flying pastries and jam on his book.” 

_“YES!  Oh my gosh!  Thanks for reminding me of the grand finale. Poor Wanda and Tim! You’re a lot of fun to be around, Sister.”  
_

“You enjoy poking fun at my spying techniques.” 

_“Your spying techniques leave a lot to be desired.  Hey! What about the time you took me to have tea in St. Paul’s Cathedral crypt and we had to hide because Wanda and Tim were supposedly having another one of their rendez-vous there? I should have known better than to believe they were lovers meeting in a church crypt of all places!”  
_

“There’s nothing wrong with St. Paul’s crypt.  It’s so nice and cool in there.  It’s also a very historical atmosphere to have a bite to eat in.  I happen to find it a very romantic place.” 

There was silence at the other end of the phone. 

“Okay. I was so wrong about Wanda and Tim.  I admit it!” 

_“Then there was the time you thought Wanda was with her husband and son outside of Paul’s.  You thought for sure it was the mysterious Ben Ventham ; but it turned out to be Adam Ackland and his grandfather.  You got your foot stuck in the Carldonn sandwich board’s chain and dragged the fucking thing across Paternoster Square back to the safety of the store only to have Wanda follow you inside! They thought you were crazy that day!”_

“Is there anything else I’ve done that you’ve found amusing or can we get back to Olivia?” 

_“My all-time favorite Donna faux pas was when you told them off at the Blackberry Bramble Inn.  You all went there to surprise Ben at the same time for his birthday. Only after you made an ass of yourself did you discover that they really were his parents and not having an affair. Oh, those were good times, Donna!  You could write a book about your experiences with them.  You could title it:  Daughter-In-Law Wanted. You and Wanda could write it together. Hahaha!”  
_

“I’m not finding any of this as funny as you are.” 

_“I blame Mom and Dad for letting you watch too many bad spy shows on TV.”  
_

“I’m sorry I called you, Carly.” _  
_

_“Let’s not forget the time the Daddy caught the Cumberbatches hiding behind the screen in the dining room.  That was hilarious!  He looks down and sees three pairs of black shoes! Hahahaha!”  
_

“Now, that time was funny!” giggled Donna.  “Mom said she’d catch Wanda spying on her and Dad while she was staying there.” 

_“Seriously, Donna, I’m so glad to hear that everyone got along.  I was so worried.”_

“You have nothing to worry about, Curly Carly.  I do need some advice though.  I’ve been thinking that if I could get Olivia alone somewhere, I could try and find out her side of the story as to what went wrong between them.  Her tongue is pretty loose, especially after a few drinks.  She pretty much confirmed the rumor about Benedict almost cheating with his co-star in _Hedda Gabler_.” 

_“If I recall the story, he and Olivia were on one of their breaks and weren’t together at the time.”_

“True.  She was dropping in to try and mend things and caught him with his co-star.” 

_“If they were broken up, then it wasn’t cheating, Donna.  Even Mom would proclaim him innocent under those circumstances.”  
_

“Part of me really wants to hear her side of the story.  I’ve heard his take on what happened; but I’d still love to hear it from her point of view. 

_“My advice is to mind your own business, Sherlock.  Do not go snooping for information.  You might find out something you don’t want to know.  Remember what Ben is always telling you about leaving the past alone?”  
_

“Yes.” 

_“Well, let it rest and move on – unless you’re in the mood to spill your own nasty little secret.”_

“NO!  Oh my God!  NO!” 

_“Let it drop – and remember that each side will have a slightly different spin on what happened and somewhere the truth is in the middle.”_

“Alright, I’ll take your advice and not ask her anything.” 

_“Promise me, Donna.”_

“Yes, I promise you that I won’t instigate anything.   Now, I’ve got to get back to the table as I’m sure Mark and Juliette will be cutting the cake soon.” 

_“Do you know what kind of cake is it?”_

“From what Suzanne Bretherton said, the cake is a lemon sponge, filled with lemon curd and iced with lemon Swiss meringue buttercream.” 

_“That’s very lemony sounding. How can they not have chocolate cake? Chocolate makes the world go around!”  
_

“The groom doesn’t care for chocolate; so the lemon was a compromise.” _  
_

_“I’m glad Steve likes chocolate.”  
_

_“_ So does Benedict.  However, my chocolate sweet tooth will be satisfied as there is plenty of chocolate on the candy buffet, and the favors are small boxes of William Curley chocolate truffles!” 

_“I hope you plan on sharing.”_

“I’d guess that there are only four pieces in the box; so we can each have one:  You, me and the men in our lives.” 

_“Didn’t Ben get his own box?”_

“Nope, there is one box per couple, which is standard,” replied Donna Saint James. “By the way, the Groom’s cake is a gingerbread house – wait until you see the photos of it!  And now I’ve got to go back because I just heard the DJ announce that they’re going to cut the cake, and after that there will be dancing.  Talk later!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I forgot I had plans for Sunday, so I decided to post this early.
> 
> 2\. A belated Happy Birthday to Benedict!
> 
> 3\. Again, I'm not all that familiar with British wedding reception customs; so some of this comes from research and some is made up.
> 
> 4\. My version of Benedict and Olivia love to bicker with each other.
> 
> 5\. I recognized the Royal Exchange from the hacked "Thrillerbatch" video.
> 
> 6\. Thank you to all the new readers and to all those who have left kudos on this story! I can't believe I've had over 70,000 hits now!
> 
> 7\. This chapter marks the Four-Year anniversary of this story! I still love writing it as much now as I did back then; and plan to see it through to the end. I am grateful for all the readers who have stuck with me from the beginning to see how the saga of Benedict and Donna turn out. Thank you again! Hugs! xoxo


	168. Chapter 168

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Donna and Benedict attend Mark and Juliette Chaplin’s wedding at London’s Royal Exchange – Part 3. Donna and Olivia have a conversation. Benedict wants to go beyond simple PDA. The Thriller batch video is born.

 

Donna Saint James had started off the day with a mission.  This mission was to satisfy her curiosity about Benedict's ex, Olivia Poulet; and the events which led to their subsequent breakup.  After witnessing their behavior towards each other during the course of the evening, Donna had come to realize that the pair still enjoyed a close bond of friendship and nothing more.  There had never been any reason for her to feel the slightest bit jealous. Benedict had demonstrated to Donna throughout the wedding breakfast that Olivia posed no threat to her whatsoever.  He remained as attentive and affectionate to her as ever.  Thus, Donna resolved sometime during the main course that she would cease in her quest for "the truth".  She had even gone to the bathroom in order to text Carly that her curiosity was now satisfied regarding Olivia and Benedict's past relationship, and she was bringing that chapter to a close. Carly had congratulated her sister on her self-control and told Donna to enjoy the rest of the evening.

Once the wedding cake and coffee had been served, and the candy buffet ravaged; the night do began in earnest.  First, the bride and groom had their first dance, followed by dances with the parents.  Donna noted that everyone seemed to scatter once the formal meal was over.  Some guests remained at their tables chatting while others got up and visited with people they knew at other tables.  The oval bar was opened and many guests began to congregate there while others hit the dance floor. 

After dancing with Benedict for a while, Donna’s feet began to protest.  She asked Benedict if he’d mind if she sat out a few dances as her feet were beginning to ache.  He responded that it would be a good time for him to invite the bride to dance, and Donna politely excused herself.  As she limped back towards the dining area; she noted that most of the guests had left, and all the tables were empty.  The only people who remained were the bridal party, their companions and a small group consisting of Mark and Juliette’s immediate families.  Everyone was either clustered around the bar chatting or out on the dance floor.

_This is excellent!  No one will know or care if I go back to our table and put my feet up on one of the chairs.  Maybe I should stop at the bar and get something cold to drink while I wait for Benedict to finally tire himself so we can go home and get some sleep.  The man has enough energy for us both, bless his little heart._

Donna changed direction and headed towards the bar when Olivia, who was already sitting at it with a tall, amber-colored drink, called out to Donna and patted the empty stool beside her.

“Come sit with me, Love; so we can have a proper chat whilst we watch the dancing,” Olivia said with a loud giggle.  “If we can call it that,” she added with another giggle. “I feel like having a kip right here.  I’m so bloody knackered.”

_Olivia’s eyes look glassy and her cheeks are very rosy.  She’s extra giddy, too.  I’d wager that Miss Poulet is feeling no pain right now after all that champagne and wine she had during the dinner; and now she’s moved onto mixed drinks. Actually, I think the whole group is somewhere between tipsy and drunk as skunks._

“Don’t you like to dance?” asked Donna, hoisting herself up onto the vacant stool.  She took time to arrange the skirt of her dress so as not to wrinkle it.

“Oh, I adore dancing!  Tom and I have been dancing our arses off since the night do started. I just thought I’d rest for a bit whilst he’s outside smoking cigars with the guys. I thought I could dance all night; but Tom wears me out.  He’s like a fucking whirling dervish!”  

Olivia laughed as she almost knocked her bag off the bar whilst demonstrating what she believed to be a whirling dervish with her hand and the paper coaster her drink had been sitting on.

“Ooopsie daisy!  I’m a right klutzy one tonight, I am.  Have a drink, Donna!  It’s on me.”

Donna eyed her almost empty glass. “What are you drinking?”

“Rum and Diet coke with lime.”

“I’ll have the same please.”

Olivia kicked off her high heels and wiggled her toes.   Her big toe came through a hole in the black tights she was wearing under her dress.  It was painted bright red. “Fuck! Another ruined pair of tights!  I swear they’re made like rubbish.”  She bent down and massaged her foot. “Ah, that feels better!  My feet are burning.” 

“My feet hurt, too. Benedict loves to dance as well…but I guess you already knew that.”  Donna removed her shoes as well.  “That does feel good!”

Suddenly, Olivia bent over and almost fell off the stool.

_Holy crap!  I hope she doesn’t barf on my Jimmy Choo shoes that I found in the bargain bin at Marshall’s last year!_

“Fucking hell, Donna!  Are those cows on your bloody big toes wearing Santa hats??”  She asked whilst gawking openly at Donna’s toes.

_Damn.  I knew I shouldn’t have taken off my shoes. I didn’t have time to get my toenail art changed._

“I happen to like cows.”

Olivia cocked an eyebrow at her. “Did you know that Ben’s mum is an avid fan of stuffed barn owls?  She’s got a bloody army of them scattered all about their country home in The Cotswolds.”

“So I’ve seen with my own eyes.”

“Blimey!  You two are meant to be, Love.”

They pair sat and watched the dancing in companionable silence until the bartender placed Donna’s drink in front of here.  As promised, Olivia paid for her drink.

Olivia raised her glass to Donna.  “Cheers!”

“Cheers!”

They touched glasses, and Donna took a sip.  The drink was good and cold.

_I’ll never get used to them having cash bars over here.  Dad was thrilled when Benedict and I told him that he didn’t have to pay for an open bar at my wedding because the tradition here is to have a cash bar.  Grandpa Colin had forgotten that until we told him.  I think he’s been living in the US too long.  Hahaha!  
_

Olivia swayed on the bar stool to the music.  “I love this song.”

_Now would be the time to return her lipstick case and ask my question. She’s obviously tipsy and alcohol makes her uninhibited.  I bet with a little prompting, she’d tell me what happened between her and Benedict.  
_

“Isn’t this playlist the best ever, Donna?  The DJ is picking all my favourite songs! Well done him!” _  
_

_I did promise Carly I wouldn’t grill Olivia about her and Benedict.  Do I dare to ask her?  Yes, I think I do. Carpe Diem, Donna!  
_

Donna opened her clutch bag.  “I have something of yours,” she said pulling out the pink lipstick case and setting it on the bar in front of Olivia.  Her face immediate lit up in recognition at the sight of it.

“For fucks sake! I’ve been looking all over for this!  I fucking love this lipstick case!” Olivia exclaimed, picking it up and opening it.  “My favourite shade of lipstick was in here, too!  Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome,” said Donna as she waited for it to sink in.

Olivia suddenly regarded her through narrowed eyes.  “Where did you find it?  Surely not here as I’ve been missing it for several weeks now.”

“I found it in Benedict’s bathroom.”

Olivia’s cheeks flushed even more as she stuffed the case inside her bag.  She seemed to be sobering up quickly, as if she sensed the direction the conversation was headed.  She looked warily at Donna as she sipped her drink.

 “Oh. I suppose you’re wondering how it got there,” Olivia said with a false laugh in an attempt to make light of the situation.

“Nope, Benedict told me the whole story of how you bumped into each other at the nursery…I mean garden center; and that you helped him get his purchases back to his place.”

Donna noticed that Olivia said nothing _.  She’s wondering how much I know about that night. She’s also not going to say anything more until I give her some indication as to what I actually know.  She suspects I’m on a fishing expedition._

“He also told me you’re partly responsible for helping him decorate his roof terrace. I especially got a kick out of the jaunty red bow you put on the mechanical reindeer.”

Olivia smiled and nodded.  Donna noted that she still looked uncomfortable and like she’d prefer to be anywhere but there. 

“I had to use his loo; so it must have rolled off the vanity when I reapplied my lipstick,” explained Olivia.

Donna only nodded and waited to see if Olivia would say more.  She did not have long to wait.

“Ben had asked me to stay for dinner; and we drank a whole bottle of wine.  I must have been tipsy; so I didn’t remember much.  I do know we talked about the past and the present.”

_That sounds about right,_ thought Donna.   

“What was abundantly clear to me is that Ben’s utterly besotted with you, Donna.  It does my heart good to see that he’s finally found his soulmate.”

Olivia drained her glass and signaled the bar tender for another. 

“It’s okay, Olivia.  I also know you spent the night on his couch.  Benedict and I have no secrets.”

_And I just lied like a rug.  Why did I even say such a thing?  I’m keeping the biggest secret of all from him._

The tense expression on Olivia’s face disappeared and she visibly relaxed. 

“That’s good to hear.  I wish I could have said the same about my time with him; but that’s water under the bridge now yes?  Well, thank you again for returning my lipstick case.  It means a lot to me.  I bought it with one of my first pay cheques from acting.”

_And it’s obvious she’s not too keen on discussing her time with Benedict.  I think I’m going to push the envelope a bit. Carly would be furious if she knew; but I just have to hear her side of the story. Before I say anything, I need to know where Benedict is.  
_

Donna’s eyes scanned the dance floor, and she spotted Benedict dancing with a group of his friends.  As the dinner had progressed, the men had removed their morning coats, waistcoats and ties.  Benedict had rolled up his shirt sleeves and had untucked his shirt.  She could see a faint sheen of perspiration on his face.  Their eyes met for a brief moment, and he smiled and waved at her.  Donna returned the smile and wave.

_He hasn’t a clue just how sexy he looks out there dancing and swaying that gorgeous ass of his.  Okay, Donna.  Stop focusing on his butt. It’s now or never._   She took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“Olivia, can I ask you something?”

Olivia paused with her glass halfway to her lips.  Donna noted that she immediately looked suspicious of the question, then appeared to compose herself.  _She knows what I’m going to ask her._

“Of course, Love. Go ahead.”

“Why did you and Benedict break up the final time?”

A surprised look washed over Olivia’s face.  She laughed and shook her head in disbelief.

“The _final_ time?  Jesus Christ!  So Ben really does tell you quite a bit then.  I was going to say everything; but if he told you everything, you wouldn’t be asking that specific question yes?”

_This was a bad idea, Donna.  What if she opens her mouth and says something to Benedict?  That would not be good.  I also can't ever tell Carly I broke my promise to myself. I would never hear the end of it.  What's done is done.  I can't take it back now.  
_

“On second thought, please forget I even asked you that, Olivia.  I don’t know what got into me tonight. I’ve got a pretty good understanding of what went wrong…”

“Then why do you ask if you already know?”

“I was just…um…curious, as to what your side of the story was.”

Olivia nodded.  “I see. You want to compare notes to see if both versions coincide.”

“If I’m out of line, you don’t have to answer my question.  I’ll understand.”

Olivia pondered Donna’s request as she watched the barkeep make her drink.  She looked as if she were having a hard time with making a decision.

_Say you’re sorry for being a nosy bitch, Donna; and buy her drink. How would you know which of them was really telling the truth anyway?  You won’t ever know for certain._

“I’m sorry I even asked, Olivia.  Sometimes I open my mouth without thinking things through.”

Olivia laughed uproariously as her fresh drink arrived, and Donna quickly paid for it.  “Thanks, Love.  Well, you and Ben certainly have that in common – blurting out things better off not said and nosiness.”

“I’m not nosy,” scoffed Donna. “I’m just … curious.”

Olivia stroked her chin and looked up towards the ceiling. “Now, where have I heard that line before?” She looked at Donna and laughed even harder.  “Holy fuck!  You _are_ just like him, Donna!  Okay, have it your way – you’re curious.  I really do like that Ben’s fairly good about sharing most things with you!  I would have thought he would have kept the unravel ling of our relationship to himself; but I guess not. I’m impressed as fuck; so I’ll satisfy your curiosity.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Oh, but I do," Olivia insisted. "If you don’t hear my side; you’ll forever wonder why I broke up with him finally.  It probably wouldn’t matter so much to you had Ben and me only been together for a couple of years.  However, this was over a decade; so people do wonder what went awry.  It’s only natural, that.”

Donna sipped her drink and nodded.  “You’re right, and it does more than puzzle me, I must admit.  To be honest, it eats at me.  The length of your relationship was much longer than many marriages.”

“True that.  Actually, why we broke up is quite simple, really.  I’m not going to bore you with recounting the details of how we met and other things you probably already know.  So, let me get to the heart of the matter.  We were very young when we first got together and wanted the same things out of life.  We always assumed we’d marry and have a family.  Ben, as I’m sure you must be aware of by now, is ridiculously broody.  His plan was for us to marry straight out of uni and begin procreating whilst on honeymoon.”

“Yeah, he’s still that way.  He’d like to start trying for a baby as soon as we’re married.”

"I've never come across such a broody man, bless him." Olivia regarded Donna with a raised eyebrow.  “May I in turn ask a question of you then?”

“Sure.”

“How do you feel about that?”

“I told him I wanted for us to be a married couple for a while first.  I think it’s important for us to build a solid emotional and financial foundation before bringing any children into the world.”

“You’re practical.  I like that.”  Olivia then chuckled.  “I’ll wager Ben doesn’t agree.”

“No, he’s not thrilled with the idea; but understands and agrees that my reasoning does make sense.”

“Jolly good.  Ben’s finally showing signs of maturing. I was wondering if I’d ever live to see the day!”

“It’s a work in progress,” smiled Donna.

“Amen to that, Love!”  Olivia lifted her glass towards Donna.  “Let us drink to the progress of Benedict Cumberbatch!”

Donna giggled.  “To progress!”

Olivia swayed on her stool to the music and sipped some of her fresh drink.

“As you were saying,” Donna prompted gently.

“Ben’s two years older than me; so he graduated first and went onto study for his master’s at LAMDA.  Once he graduated from there, he already had an agent and started getting jobs straight off. I was very happy and excited for him.”

_So far, it all makes sense and matches what he’s told me._

“During my remaining time at Manchester, I discovered some things about myself:  one was that after taking a writing course; I fell in love with writing. I get excited by it and it's rewarding in a way that is totally different from acting.”

Olivia paused to watch the dancers.  Benedict was still out there dancing up a storm.

“I’ve never seen a guy shake his bum like Ben does on the dance floor,” she giggled. “It’s ever so sexy.”

“Yes, it is,” agreed Donna, watching Benedict’s backside.  _And that butt belongs to me now._

“The other thing I discovered was that I was no longer in a hurry to become Ben’s wife or to start a family with him.  I began to question whether or not I actually wanted to have children at all.  There were so many things I suddenly wanted to do once I graduated.  Unfortunately, this caused the start of the ongoing conflict between us.”

“People grow and change,” commented Donna.

“Right you are, Love!  When I finally graduated, I went on to become the quintessential struggling actress with bursts of success followed by agonizing periods of utter stagnation.  It was increasingly hard to stand by and cheer Ben on as his star began to slowly rise.  He was getting offered roles in films and TV series and doing so much voice work.  The man was gaining recognition from the critics…”

_Not all the critics – hahaha!  Dad’s never been a fan until Uncle Rodney sent him some of Benedict’s recent work._

“…and developing a solid reputation for his stage work.”

“Were you envious of his success?”

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t,” scoffed Olivia.  “I was torn between resenting his modest successes and being happy for him.  I felt terribly guilty when the resentment overshadowed the joy I was supposed to be feeling.”

“Did he still keep the pressure on to marry?”

“Oh, yeah! The pressure from Ben to marry and start a family was getting overwhelming.  We would find ourselves taking breaks to relieve the stress.  Then after a few months of being separated, we’d find ourselves longing to be together again.  I soon realized that during these breaks we were becoming different people – with different priorities, wants and needs.”

“Growth is good,” said Donna.

“Not when two people are growing in opposite directions, which is what ultimately happened to us.”

“I’m sorry it ended like that.”

“Don’t be sorry, Donna.  It wound up being for the best.  I was getting too envious and bitter. I’d be frustrated to have to go on the red carpet with Ben and not be recognized for who I was.  I was weary of being cited as ‘Benedict Cumberbatches Date’ or ‘The Struggling Actress, Olivia Poulet’.  Whenever he was interviewed, I was only mentioned briefly – if at all – as his girlfriend.  Ben frequently forgot to mention my name or what I did!”

_Hmm…I was getting pissed off at being labeled his date or plus one or nothing at all – and I’m not famous!  I can only imagine how she was feeling._

“Then Ben began to accept roles that required him to travel.  _To The Ends of The Earth_ caused the fatal crack in our relationship.  I begged him not to accept that role; but he went ahead and did.  I could see that he was absolutely driven and was not going to let anything or anyone hold him back.”

“You mean you think Benedict’s a workaholic?”

“Absolutely!  Don’t you?”

Donna considered her response.  “Well, I see a man who loves what he does and completely submerges himself in his work. I see a man who’s extremely ambitious about his career and wants to get to the top of his profession.”

“You’ve just described a workaholic.  Well done you.”

“Benedict doesn’t put his work before me though.”  _Does he?  No!  Not that I’ve noticed._

“Really?”

“Really!”   _She sounds as if she’s almost disappointed by my response._

“Well fuck me then!  That was one of the problems with being with Ben – the work always came first.  I wish you luck with that, Donna.”

Donna sipped a bit more of her drink.  The ice was melting and it was starting to taste watered down.  She noticed that Olivia seemed to be pondering something as she watched Benedict on the dance floor. Finally, Olivia turned her attention back to Donna.

“So, how long have you and Ben been together now?”

“It’ll be a year next month.”

Olivia nodded as she sipped her drink and thought.  “It’s too soon.  The relationship is still fresh.  Give him time and the warts will surface.  They always do in a relationship – no matter how stable and loving.”

“I remember him telling me that you broke off the relationship right before he went to South Africa.  There’s another thing I always wonder about.”

“What?”

“Why you didn’t go to him when he was car-jacked.”

Olivia gave a bitter laugh.  “Why? Because he wanted his parents there, not me.  Ben’s has a very strong bond with his family.”

_Hmmm…Benedict said she was the one who decided to stay away.  I wonder which is telling me the truth._

“So, how do you get on with Wanda and Tim?” asked Olivia.

“Very well.”  _We’re thick as thieves because we’re embroiled in a situation that you’d think was crazy._   “I adore them both.  Wanda and I get along very well, and Tim is just a honey.”

“Just take care to mind Wanda.  You don’t want to get on her bad side.”

_I could understand that.  The woman has demonstrated that she’s a force to be reckoned with._

  
“And don’t let Tim’s posh English gentleman fool you.  He can be quite brash when he feels the situation calls for it.”

_Oh, I’ve seen and experienced that side of Tim first hand.  
_

“So you and Benedict were separated for several months when he went to South Africa.”

“Yeah.  Like I said, I was the one to break it off.  That was the longest break we ever took; and we were never the same once we got back together.  Ben just got busier and busier, and I was feeling lonely and left out of things.  He’d forget things I’d done and missed attending some of my openings and screenings due to his commitments, which were his priorities.  He was always running out to auditions or to do voice work.  His job…his life was of prime importance to him.  The ‘we’ in our relationship had evaporated as it was now all about him.  His agent and PR person kept pushing him to accept all these invitations.  It was rare that we’d go out together to the cinema or to dinner.  Mostly, he’d come home and just collapse or there would be lines to learn for the next day.  I got lost in the shuffle somewhere along the way.  There was no time left over for me – or us. Ben just assumed that we’d still marry and have kids and I’d be the one to stay home and mind the house whilst he went out to work and did what he loved.  He never gave a toss as to my happiness or what I fancied doing.”

Olivia paused for a moment before continuing.

“Then one day I woke up and realized that I didn’t want to be married to Ben or have children – with him or anyone else.  I wanted to live my dream, which is to write my own stuff. I think that, as a woman with a comedy slant, it is a great thing to be able to generate your own work. Of course I can fit in acting roles as well.  My Mum is a judge; so you can do it all. My late dad was fine with it.  Ben wanted a stay at home wife at the time, and our ideals conflicted.  So, we gradually kept growing apart and finally decided that we both had to permanently sever the tie and move on.  So, you now know the story from my point of view."

“Thank you for telling me, Olivia.”   _They each have their own version of the reason why they’re no longer together and somewhere in the middle is the truth.  Her loss is my gain.  
_

Olivia hesitated for a moment and took Donna’s hand.  She gave it a reassuring squeeze. “I don’t think Ben’s an awful person, Donna.   I may have made him sound self-absorbed and rather like a dick near the end of our relationship.  In reality he’s a wonderful guy and has a lot to offer.  I think he’ll make a terrific husband and father once he’s found the right person to be with – which he seems to have done. Well for whatever it’s worth, Donna; I think you and Ben are lovely together and will be very happy. I wish you both nothing but the best of luck.”

“Thank you again for clarifying things for me,” said Donna.  “I’m looking forward to being Mrs. Cumberbatch and building a life together.”

Olivia began to laugh as the DJ put on a new song.  “Well, if this song doesn’t just sum up the end of our relationship!  Had the git played this one first, it could have saved me a lot of breath. Excuse me, Love; I’ve got to wee and to find Tom.  Then when I get back, let’s hit the dance floor and break out some moves!”

Donna Saint James sat and sipped her drink as she listened to the lyrics of the familiar old song and wondered what the future would hold for her and Benedict Cumberbatch.

 

**No time left for you) Distant roads are callin' me**  
**No time left for you**  
  
**No time for a gentle rain**  
**No time for my watch and chain**  
**No time for revolving doors**  
**No time for the killin' floor**  
**No time for the killin' floor**  
**There's no time left for you**  
**No time left for you**  
  
**No time for a summer friend**  
**No time for the love you send**  
**Seasons change and so did I**  
**You need not wonder why**  
**You need not wonder why**  
**There's no time left for you**  
**No time left for you**  
  
**No time, no time, no time, no time**  
**No time, no time, no time, no time**  
**I got, got, got, got no time**  
**I got, got, got, got no time**  
**I got, got, got, got no time**  
**No-no-no, no-no-no, no time**  
**No-no-no, no-no-no, no time**  
**I got, got, got, got no time**  
**No-no-no, no-no-no, no-no-no,**  
**No-no-no, no-no-no, no-no-no, no time**  
**I got no time, got no time, got no time, got no time, got no time**  
**Got no time, got no time**

****

Donna was lost in her thoughts and didn’t notice that Benedict was watching her from the dance floor.

_Why is my darling looking so preoccupied?  Certainly she sees me waving at her like a dolt.  It’s not like Donna to ignore me like this. She’s been chatting with Olivia.  I wonder if something was said to give her pause.  
_

Benedict left the dance floor and hurried over to the bar where Donna was sitting alone on a bar stool, gazing into her drink moodily.  He hopped up on a vacant stool beside her and lightly touched her shoulder.

“Is everything alright, Donna? You look as if you’ve lost your best friend; so I thought I’d come over to show you that you haven’t.”  He paused to laugh at his joke.

Donna paid no attention no him.

_This isn’t at all like Donna.  Something is definitely bothering her._

“C’mon, Love!  Why so glum?”

Donna suddenly looked up at the sound of his voice.  “What did you say?”

“I asked you why in the hell do you look so solemn?”

“Do I?”

“Fuck yeah!” Benedict beckoned to the barkeep.  “What are you drinking?”

“Rum and Diet Coke with lime.  Have some.  I’ve reached my limit for tonight.”

“You’ve barely touched it.” Benedict drank some and grimaced.  He smiled at the barkeep.  “That’s too sweet for this time of night. I’ll have a gin and tonic with lemon please.”  He slid off the bar stool and felt around in his trousers pocket and removed some bills, which he laid on the bar.  “It’s a right good thing I remembered to take along extra money to pay for our drinks.”  Benedict thanked the barkeep when he brought over his gin and tonic.  He raised his glass towards Donna.  “Cheers.”

“Cheers.” 

“Ah this chap knows how to make a proper drink.  Dad would approve.” Benedict leered at Donna’s breasts and rubbed his thigh against hers.  “You look very fetching in this dress.”

“Thank you.”

Donna felt his large hand move over her thigh and find its way to the hem of her skirt.

“Umm…I think your hand had better stop wandering around where it doesn’t belong.”

Benedict laughed out loud.  “That’s not what you said this morning when I was having a grope under your nighty.”

“Those were different circumstances – we were alone in my apartment, fooling around.  We’re out in public here.”

“I don’t see anyone on this side of the bar,” pointed out Benedict as his fingertips slid underneath the hem.  “I’d really fancy fingering you here,” he whispered in her ear.  “Don’t you think it would be very exciting?  I’m starting to get stiff just imagining it.”

“There are plenty of people hanging around.  Mark’s parents are within earshot.”

“And not one of them gives a toss about us.  Besides you’re the one who said how deserted the place was.”

“I was referring to the place being closed to the public.”

Benedict leaned in to kiss her on the lips. “Sometimes it’s fun to live dangerously,” he whispered seductively into her ear.  “There are upholstered benches just around the corner from the bogs.”  He crinkled his nose and gave her a lop-sided smile.

“Bogs?  Those weren’t bogs in the cocktail room, those were supposed to be little ponds; and I’m sure the room has been dismantled by now.”

Benedict chuckled and drank deeply.  “Erm…I was referring to the bathrooms.  Bogs is a term we use here for restrooms.”

“Oh.  I see.”

“I have this sinking feeling that I can’t tempt you into trying something a bit more…daring.”

“Not in public,” Donna replied firmly. 

_Not in public – my lover can be such a prude at times, bless her.  I need to break her of this.  I hate it when she doesn’t fancy a bit of experimentation!_

“Oh, for fucks sake!” Benedict sighed with annoyance.  “Stop being so damn prim and acting like the proper lady for once!  Try being a little more wanton, Donna.  You may find you actually enjoy letting your hair down so to speak.”

“I promise to make it up to you when we get home.  I’ll be as wanton as you like.  How about doing it on Marco’s dining room table?  Any interest?”

“I’m _always_ interested, Sweetheart,” growled Benedict as he grabbed her hand and ran it over the bulge in his trousers.

“I’ll take that as a yes then.”

“Hell, yeah! Why the fuck not? We haven’t shagged on the table yet.”

Donna bit her lower lip. “As long as we don’t roll off.”

“Sod off, Donna – and I mean that in the nicest possible way.  Stop being such a cock tease.”

“I wasn’t trying to be.  I just meant that the table is on the narrow side.”

Benedict finished her drink and his.  “It’ll be fine. You need to trust me not to let you fall off.”

“I _do_ trust you.”

“Do I detect a note of stroppiness in your voice?”

“No.  I was just trying to reassure you that I do trust you in these erotic matters.”

Benedict waggled his eyebrows at her suggestively. “Dishes shouldn’t be the only things getting laid on the table.”   He took her chin in between his thumb and index finger and kissed her thoroughly.  “Yes?”

“Yes,” breathed Donna. "Anywhere you want is fine with me...on the table, in the bathtub, on the washer...Jesus Benedict."

“Hmmm...the idea of the washer holds promise. I really do need to get properly laid tonight.  I’m so fucking randy, I can’t stand it.”

“I plan to fuck your brains out, Ben Honey.”

“Brilliant – post wedding sex location has been sorted to everyone’s satisfaction!  So, what were you thinking about?  You looked so bothered when I came up to you that I feared it had something to do with me.”

“I wasn’t in a bad mood.  I was just thinking about you…”

_Damn!  Liv must have said something to her about the time we were together._

“…and that I missed you,” finished Donna.  She smiled at him and kissed him soundly on his cupids bow lips.

“Well, I’m here now.  Drink me in,” Benedict grinned and stepped back with his arms spread out so she could look him over. 

“I’ll drink you later – after we get home,” she whispered to him.  _Provided he’s anything approaching sober._

Benedict giggled.  “I fear by that time I might be totally off my face and won’t be able to get hard enough!” 

“It’s a chance I’ll be happy to take,” said Donna.  “I still have some tricks up my sleeve that I haven’t used on you yet.”  She batted her eyelashes at him.

“Fuck me! I’ve been truly blessed tonight: New tricks AND the dining table.  It’s an embarrassment of riches!!” Benedict regarded her with a raised eyebrow.  “I’m curious about these tricks.  Tell me more.”

“Hey, you two!  Are you drinking without us?” demanded Olivia’s voice from behind them.

Benedict turned to regard her and Tom as he took his seat beside Donna.  “I was wondering what had become of you two.”

Donna inhaled and her eyes began to water.  _I can tell you exactly where they were – outside having a smoke break.  I can smell the smoke on them.  
_

“We were outside, having a fag,” said Olivia. “Are you still quit, Ben?”

“I’m trying my best to be,” he replied.  “It’s still a struggle that.  Tonight I find the craving for some nicotine very intense…I still associate drinking with smoking, and it’s rough.”

Olivia and Tom joined them at the bar for another round of drinks.  The DJ put on another song while the couples chatted.  Suddenly, Olivia set down her drink and grabbed Tom’s arm as the first bars of the next song drifted over to them.

“Listen!” exclaimed Olivia excitedly. “It’s Thriller time!  Let’s go dance with the others!  C’mon, Ben!  Get off your arse and come dance. You can’t sit out Thriller!  I won’t allow it!”

Donna watched as Olivia led Tom out to the dance floor.  The entire bridal party had gathered and Mark was waving Benedict and Donna over to join them.

“What’s Thriller time?” asked Donna.

“It’s a tradition for our crowd to have Thriller played at weddings,” explained Benedict as he lifted Donna up off the stool.  “Shall we go and be non-verbal?”

Donna and Benedict joined the others on the dance floor as Michael Jackson began to sing:

 

**It's close to midnight and something evil's lurking**  
**In the dark**  
**Under the moonlight you see a sight that almost stops**  
**Your heart**  
**You try to scream, but terror takes the sound before**  
**You make it**  
**You start to freeze as horror looks you right between**  
**The eyes**  
**You're paralyzed**

 

“We’re finally dancing together again!”  Benedict cooed in Donna’s ear.

“You make it sound as if I deserted you all night.”

Benedict gave her a mock pout.  “I thought you’d rather gossip with Olivia than dance with me.”

“That’s not true at all!” insisted Donna as he twirled her around and sang along with the chorus in his deep baritone: 

 

“Cause this is thriller, thriller night  
And no one's gonna save you from the beast about to strike  
You know it's thriller, thriller night  
You're fighting for your life inside a killer  
Thriller tonight.”

 

“I love this song,” said Donna as they continued to dance. “We play it every Halloween.  Steve sets the speaker in the window; so the kids can hear it when they come around trick or treating.”

 

**You hear the door slam and realize there's nowhere**  
**Left to run**  
**You feel the cold hand and wonder if you'll ever see**  
**The sun**  
**You close your eyes and hope that this is just**  
**Imagination**  
**But all the while you hear the creature creepin' up**  
**Behind**  
**You're out of time**

“So did you two have a nice chat?” Benedict asked Olivia, who was dancing beside him.

“It was absolutely lovely, Barrister,” replied Olivia, moving away towards Tom.

_Hahaha!  She calls him Barrister Ben, too!  That is hilarious,_ thought Donna.

Benedict turned his ice-blue gaze on Donna, who gave him a cheeky smile in return.

“Have you nothing to say about your chat?”

“I’d say it was very informative for us both,” replied Donna.

“Did you find out everything you wanted to know then?” inquired Benedict, pulling Donna close to him and pressing his hips to hers and making a grinding motion.

_Barrister Ben sure is horny tonight.  He thinks he’s Patrick Swayze in Dirty Dancing._

“Yes.  I think I did.”

“What have you learnt about me that you didn’t already know?”

“That you can be a first-rate, selfish prick when you want to be.”

Benedict stopped dancing and regarded Donna in utter astonishment. His mouth hung open as the music played around them.

 

**'Cause this is thriller, thriller night**  
**There ain't no second chance against the thing with**  
**Forty eyes**  
**You know it's thriller, thriller night**  
**You're fighting for your life inside a killer**  
**Thriller tonight**

**Night creatures call**  
**And the dead start to walk in their masquerade**  
**There's no escapin' the jaws of the alien this time**  
**(They're open wide)**  
**This is the end of your life**

“Fuck you!  You’re taking the piss!” he shouted over the music at her.

Donna grinned and nodded at him.  “That is correct.”

“You really had me going for a minute.”

“That was the idea.”

“You can be such a cunt when you want to be, Miss Saint James.”

“True.”

“So what _did_ Liv tell you?”

“She told me pretty much what I expected to hear, which was remarkably similar to what you told me.  It was her side of the story though, which means it was going to be somewhat biased.  What I have to remember is that you were both very different people then and are both very different people now.  I want to be with the person you are now.”

Benedict smiled with relief.  “I’m glad to hear you say that.  I know Liv most likely didn’t paint me in a very positive light.”

“Surprisingly, she actually said some very nice things about you.  She feels we’re well suited to each other and will make a good match.”

“What negative shit did she say about me?”

“How about we leave what happened between you and Olivia in the past, which is where it belongs, as you’re so fond of telling me.”

Benedict smiled and nodded as he drew her close to him for a deep kiss.  He tasted like gin and lemon. She wound her fingers through his curls and tugged gently while his tongue played inside her mouth. Donna heard his friends whooping and hollering around them at their public display of affection.

“For fucks sake, get a room you two!” yelled a tipsy Adam. 

“This is my wedding day you knob!” added Mark.  “I’m the one who’s expected to act like that.  You’ll get your turn in December.”

“I think that’s our cue to stop,” giggled Benedict, as he released Donna to dance on her own.

 

**They're out to get you; there's demons closing in on**  
**Every side**  
**They will possess you unless you change the number on**  
**Your dial**  
**Now is the time for you and I to cuddle close**  
**Together**  
**All through the night I'll save you from the terrors on**  
**The screen**  
**I'll make you see**

**That it's a thriller, thriller night**  
**'Cause I can thrill you more than any ghost**  
**Would ever dare try**  
**Girl, this is thriller, thriller night**  
**So let me hold you tight and share a killer, diller**  
**Chiller**  
**Thriller here tonight**

**That it's a thriller, thriller night**  
**'Cause I can thrill you more than any ghost**  
**Would ever dare try**  
**Girl, this is thriller, thriller night**  
**So let me hold you tight and share a killer, diller**

“Hey, Everyone!  I’m going to make a video of you guys dancing!” called out Olivia, setting her mobile to video mode and aiming it at the dancing group.  “I want to see monster-like dancing you tits!”

Donna laughed as Olivia moved around the group.  Everyone was cheerfully complying with her request to dance like monsters – even the bride and groom. A more than tipsy Benedict laughed uproariously and began to mug for the camera as he danced around the floor in front of Olivia as Donna watched him.

**Darkness falls across the land**  
**The midnight hour is close at hand**  
**Creatures crawl in search of blood**  
**To terrorize y'awl's neighborhood**  
**And whosoever shall be found**  
**Without the soul for getting down**  
**Must stand and face the hounds of hell**  
**And rot inside a corpse's shell**

**The foulest stench is in the air**  
**The funk of forty thousand years**  
**And grizzly ghouls from every tomb**  
**Are closing in to seal your doom**  
**And though you fight to stay alive**  
**Your body starts to shiver**  
**For no mere mortal can resist**  
**The evil of the thriller**

After the DJ packed up, the group sat at the bar and took turns passing Olivia’s mobile around in order to view the video of them all dancing like monsters.

“It’s so funny!” said Juliette.  “Can you send us the file, Lovely?  This will come in very handy to blackmail my new husband with.”

“I look wretched,” complained Alice.  “I look like I’m off my face.”

“That might be because you are!” teased Mark.

“No you don’t!” insisted Adam.  “I think you look very lovely and sexy for a monster that is.”

“Send it to me as well,” said Suzanne.  “Dennis is completely pissed!”

“And you’re not?” demanded Dennis.

“I think we all are,” laughed Benedict.  “Let me see it again, Liv.”

“We must have a copy of this,” said Donna, peering at the mobile in Benedict’s hands.  “Benedict dancing to Thriller with his dark Sherlock curls.”

Donna leaned against Benedict and whispered into his ear.  “That video is very sexy, Mr. Cumberbatch.  I’m feeling very horny and don’t know if I can wait until we get back to my place.  Where did you say that secluded bench was?”

_Ah!  I’m going to get laid in The Royal Exchange!  Well done me!_

Benedict’s eyes glittered almost feverishly in the dim lighting as he looked her up and down in anticipation.  “I best make our excuses then,” he whispered back, somewhat hoarsely.  Donna could see that his pupils had dilated considerably, signaling his arousal. She noticed him adjust himself in an attempt to hide his slight erection as he slid off the bar stool. 

As Benedict was about to open his mouth, Olivia tapped on the side of her glass with her comb to get everyone’s attention. 

“Tell you what, everybody.  I’ll upload it to my Facebook as soon as I get back to my flat,” announced Olivia. “That way you can all see it whenever you fancy or the more computer savvy of you lot can nick it off there if you prefer.”

“Can you mark the video private?” asked Mark, worriedly.  “I would hate to think that any of my or Juliette’s patients could somehow stumble across it.  We’re all pissed and dancing around like gits.”

“True, that,” agreed Dennis.  “It would be best to make your account private.”

“Not to worry!” Olivia Poulet assured him.  “Someone would have to hack into my account to see it.  Who in the hell is going to do that?  No one gives a toss as to what I’ve got on my account.  Just make sure you are all Facebook friends with me.  If not, send me a friend request.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. My heartfelt thanks to my new readers and to those who have left kudos. 
> 
> 2\. Yesterday marked the birthday of the woman who helped to inspired this story: the lovely Wanda Ventham
> 
> 3\. I'm not familiar with what goes on at an English wedding breakfast. I've taken some of it from research and added a good dose of fiction to suit the plot line.
> 
> 4\. Donna's as nosy as Benedict; so of course she was going to continue her mission to find out Olivia's side of the story.
> 
> 5\. The account of Benedict and Olivia's breakup is entirely fictional. Olivia hasn't given many interviews and when she does, she doesn't really speak of their past relationship. This is just my take on what might have happened. No one will ever know the real reasons, except for them. 
> 
> 6\. I didn't post any links or stills of the "Thrillerbatch" video that was hacked from Olivia's Facebook as both Benedict and Olivia have requested that no one post it. 
> 
> 7\. Marshall's is a discount designer clothing chain in the US. 
> 
> 8\. "No Time" is a song by The Guess Who circa 1970. One day I heard it in a store and it gave me the idea for part of Olivia's explanation as to why she and Benedict ultimately grew apart.
> 
> 9\. Next week I'll be on vacation; so see you all after that!


	169. Chapter 169

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Benedict attends the table read of The Great Game with the Sherlock cast. Donna and Carly prepare to cater their first Dr. Who night shoot and consider a suggestion. 
> 
> Note: I’ll be using *************** for things happening at the same time.

 

 

Benedict Cumberbatch was sat beside Martin Freeman at the _Sherlock_ table read, as they fired the dialog back and forth at each other. 

“Ordinary people fill their heads with all kinds of rubbish, and that makes it hard to get at the stuff that matters. Do you see?” Demanded Benedict.

“But it’s the solar system!” Insisted a flabbergasted Martin.

“Oh, hell! What does that matter?!” growled Benedict in mock frustration. “So we go round the sun! If we went round the moon, or round and round the garden like a teddy bear ... it wouldn’t make any difference. All that matters to me is the work. Without that, my brain rots.”  _  
_

 

 

Benedict Cumberbatches’ ice blue eyes popped open to almost total darkness.  It took him a minute to get his bearings and realize he was in Donna’s bedroom and chuckled to himself as he realized that his mind had been running certain lines of _The Great Game_ script again whilst he slept. 

_That’s what I get for reading the bloody script right before falling asleep! It really is a stonker of a script though.  I can’t wait to hear how it sounds at the table read this morning. I have a feeling in my gut that we’re all in for a treat.  
_

“Donna Love, fancy a quick cuddle before we have to get up?” he asked softly.

Benedict reached out and touched only cool sheets on what was Donna’s side of the bed whenever he slept over.  His left hand groped along the nightstand until it touched the flannel that he had covered the clock radio with and removed it. The faint green glow from the LED display showed that her side of the bed was empty. 

_I’m such a knob. Of course, Donna must be up and gone by now.  She had to be at Carldonn very early to help out in the kitchen.  For fuck’s sake!  I was sleeping so soundly that I didn’t even hear the bloody alarm go off.  That’s not good. Wait a minute, Benedict, if the alarm had gone off; it would still be buzzing at you, you clot._

Benedict rolled onto his side to glance at the clock radio.  To his surprise, he had awoken an hour earlier than he was scheduled to. 

_How about that?  I’m impressed as fuck that I actually got up on my own.  It must be the excitement of doing the table read today._

Benedict reached out and switched off the alarm and switched on the bedside lamp before taking the TV remote control and turning on the news.  He lay there, stretching as he watched the trailer with the weather report crawling along the bottom of the large flat-screened TV that was mounted on the wall directly across from the bed. 

_Hells bells! This is the coldest morning yet so far this year!  It would have been lovely just to have a lie in and have a cuddle for a while; but alas I’ve no one to cuddle with. I might as well get up and have a nice, hot shower.  I’ll have plenty of time to linger over a coffee whilst I have a read of the paper. I’ll surprise Andrew by being ready on time.  
_

Benedict could see that the text message indicator on his mobile was blinking from the dresser across the room.  He kicked back the duvet, shoved his feet into his slippers and retrieved the mobile.  The device was fully charged, and he unplugged it from the charger before checking to see who the message was from.  He smiled when he saw it was from Wanda:

**Greetings from Galaxidi!  It’s a sunny 23 degrees here today, which is a bit warmer than the norm.  We've decided it’s a perfect day to go for a drive and look at some ancient ruins. We’re going to take a picnic lunch with us. Wish you and Donna were here.  
**

_Of course it’s sunny and warmer there.  They’re in Greece soaking up the sun whilst I’m stuck here in frozen London!_

Benedict padded over to the window and parted the blinds.  It was still dark outside as he tentatively touched the glass pane, which felt very cold indeed.  Down below he could see only a handful of hearty souls out running on the lit path that ran along the Thames.  There were even a couple of dog walkers out that early, braving the chill that had gripped the UK over the holidays and showed no signs of letting up in the near future according to the weatherman.  He could see the dog walkers’ frosty breath in the air from where he was stood.

Benedict resumed reading his mother’s text message:

**Your father and I wanted to wish you a lovely day at the table read.  We’ll be thinking of you and hope all goes well.  I know you’ll make a brilliant Sherlock Holmes. Give our love to Donna. Mum xoxo**

_Weren’t you the one who said I didn’t have the right nose to play Sherlock, Mum?  Hahaha!  I’ll do my best to make you and Dad proud of me._

Benedict quickly typed out a response and hit send:

**Jolly good for you both - wish I could say the same about the weather here.  The weather report shows it’s actually a balmy -3. Ha! I’m hoping the weather warms before we have to do any outdoor scenes.  Thanks for the good wishes.  I’m looking forward to getting on with it today.  Will let you know how it goes.  Love always, Ben.**

_And now to haul my arse into the shower and make myself some of that brilliant Kona coffee to go with some of that Pannetone bread Giada sent Donna for Christmas. I know there must be some stashed away in her freezer.  
_

_**********************************************_

 

Donna Saint James was in her kitchen setting the coffee maker to brew a pot of Kona coffee for Benedict.  She had gotten up extra early and was ready to head out into the frigid morning.  The only thing left to do was to pull the baked French toast out of the oven and bring her fiancé his wake-up mug of coffee.

_A nice breakfast should make his having to get up so early easier. Poor Ben was tossing and turning most of the night. I know he must be excited and nervous about the table read.  It was all he could talk about last night.  
_

The oven timer went off; and Donna removed the baking dish from the oven and set it on a rack to cool.  The sweet smell of cinnamon wafted through the kitchen.

_There!  It’ll be ready to eat as soon as it cools off a bit. Nothing says home like the smell of cinnamon.  I still have time to make myself a cup of tea and have some French toast before I have to leave for Carldonn.  After I eat, I’ll pour Benedict his coffee and bring it to him; so I can wish him a nice day.  
_

The land line rang, momentarily startling Donna.  The caller ID showed it was someone calling from Carldonn Creative Catering.

_I bet I know who that is – my impatient sister.  And she has the nerve to call me impatient._

“Hello.”

_“Morning Donna!”_ came Emily’s cheery voice.   _“Carly asked me to ring you up to see if you’d be joining us soon because you’ll never realize just how many people are needed to make pistachio shortbread biscuits until you get here.”_

Donna glanced at the clock as she removed the cordless phone from its cradle and strolled across the room towards the wall-to-wall window that over looked the Thames and South Bank beyond.  There were only a few people out and about.

“I’ve still got plenty of time before I have to be there, Emily.  Please tell Miss Impatience that I’ll be over as soon as I see Benedict off and to keep her panties on.”

Donna could hear her sister’s voice in the background addressing Emily.

_“Hold on, Donna,”_ instructed Emily as she covered the mouthpiece.  Donna could hear her repeating most of what she had said.

_I do like that Emily knows what to filter out, unlike her uncle.  That girl could be a diplomat._

Emily uncovered the mouthpiece.  _“Donna, Carly would like a word…”  
_

The next words came from Carly, who had obviously taken the phone from the younger girl.  _  
_

_“You do realize that we have a night shoot for Dr. Who, which means we have to finish preparing enough food not only for our breakfast and lunch orders; but dinner to feed a film crew of forty-three people!”  
_

Donna frowned.  “Wait.  I thought we had fifty people to feed.”

_“Apparently, seven are ill with the flu.  I received a text from Steve Moffat’s assistant with the revised head count a few minutes ago.  They apologize for any inconvenience; but that’s actually good in a way.  There are seven less stomachs to worry about pleasing.”_

“Seven people won’t make that much difference.”

_“Anyway, there are forty-three people who want a choice of two hot soups, two hot entrees with sides and a salad – not to mention desserts, one of which must be hot; and little sandwiches and scones for their tea break later on tonight in addition to snacks throughout the day.  Oh, and I forgot they may also need something for breakfast if shooting really runs late. I thought oatmeal, scrambled eggs with croissants and assorted breakfast meats can be done with not a lot of notice.  If we don't use the croissants we can make croissant berry bread pudding for tomorrow's special dessert. Your presence is needed NOW, Donna.”_

“I know, Curly Carly.  However, we did agree that we would start our tasks at seven, which it isn’t yet.  Just calm down and I’ll be there as soon as I see Benedict off to…”

_“Emily told me.  Exactly where are you seeing Ben off to that requires you to be there?”_

“Today is his first table read for _Sherlock…”  
_

_“Donna!  It’s not like he’s five, and this is his first day of school.  The man can get himself ready and see himself to the Tube without your help. Besides won’t Andrew be accompanying him since they’re working on the same show?”  
_

“Don’t be a bitch, Carly.  I chose the wrong wording.  What I meant was that I wanted to make him a special breakfast this morning and say goodbye in person.” 

_“Just make him a couple of slices of heart-shaped toast spread with that Marmite crap he likes and leave it on a friggin’ plate with one of your lovey-dovey heart-shaped notes with a lipstick kiss on it! I’m sure Ben will be very appreciative of your efforts.”_

“Stop making fun of me.  Mom always made us a special breakfast on all the important days of our lives.  Don’t you remember how she always tucked cute little notes into our school lunches?”

_“Of course I do; but we’re talking about a thirty-three year old man here.”_

“Just because he’s an adult doesn’t mean he can’t appreciate a little affection being shown his way.”

_“If you’re trying to make me feel guilty, it isn’t working. Just make the friggin’ toast and get your ass over here. Please!”_

“How can you suggest toast?  It’ll get soggy.  Toast needs to be freshly made right before you’re going to eat it.”

_“I vividly recall your column on breakfast restaurants, which I loved.  You devoted a whole paragraph to the proper making and serving of toast.”  
_

“Then you know I’m right.” _  
_

_“All I know is you’re waffling away just like Ben and wasting precious time! If the thought of your man consuming soggy toast makes you cringe; just put the fucking bread in the toaster and let him do his own toasting.”_

“Let me ask you something, Curly Carly. Did you give Steve a sendoff like that on his very first day of surgery?”

_“HELL NO! Steve had to be at the hospital by six; so he was up at four in the morning and made himself Pop Tarts. Jesus Christ!  Don’t you have a box of Pop Tarts?”  
_

“I made baked French toast; so breakfast is taken care of.  All I want to do is bring Benedict his wake-up coffee before I leave.  What’s wrong with wishing him good luck today?”

_“I thought you aren’t supposed to wish actors good luck.”_

“I think that only applies to when they’re in a play on opening night.”

_“This isn’t anything like an opening night, Donna.  He’s just going to work to read a script out loud with the other members of the cast.  It’s not like they’re actually filming today.”  
_

“This is an important day for Ben.”

_“This is an important day for us.”_

“I know that, and I’ll be over very soon.” _  
_

_“Listen to me, Donna Marie Saint James.  I’m really happy for Ben, and I wish him nothing but success with this series; but I’m sure he realizes that today is a very important day for Carldonn Creative Catering as well. This might open the doors to further expansion of our business.  I sincerely doubt that he’ll be expecting a gourmet breakfast in bed this morning. Besides – don’t they feed the actors at these things?”_

“You’re right – on all counts.  Benedict’s not like that; but still I’d like…”

_“Please shut up and let me finish, Donna!  This is our first time catering for Dr. Who; and we need to do the very best job we can tonight.  We need to be perfect, and that means I need all the help I can get here – which means you need to get your ass over here pronto and help Karl bake cookies!”_

“As soon as I bring Benedict his coffee and tell him goodbye!”

_“Fuck Benedict!”_

“Well, I won’t have time for that; but it was a surprising suggestion coming from someone who is in such a hurry to get me over there.”

_“Oh, you’re such a brat today!!  I’m sure Ben’s capable of fending for himself!  Now, you’re the one who pushed this idea of making extra money by catering; so you’re the one who needs to be here by my side helping to organize…”_

“We did organize the kitchen and did all the prep work and some of the cooking yesterday.  The kitchen staff should already be there to finish up.”

_“But I still need you to help with today's breakfast and lunch orders – not to mention motivating the troops!”_

“Troops?  I thought we had a slew of interns to help Maria, George and Karl with the cooking.”

_“Four interns plus Heather and Emily to man the counter, does not constitute a slew. You’re the Commander-in-Chief of this operation; so you need to drop whatever it is you’re doing and get over here NOW!  Did I make myself clear?”_

“Holy cripe!  You make it sound like a military maneuver.”

_“It is like one! I expect to see you in fifteen minutes.”_

Emily took the phone back.  _“I’m sorry Carly was so harsh on you, Donna,”_ she said in a low voice _.  “She pitched a right fit when she got here and you hadn’t arrived yet. I did remind her that neither of you were due in until seven. I best get back to the salad dressings.  Please don’t make her wait too long.  She’s cross as could be”  
_

“Tell my sister to chill; and I’ll see you in a few minutes, Emily.  Bye.”

_“Cheers.”  
_

_I suppose I’ll just leave Benedict a note explaining that I had to go.  He’ll understand.  Heck, he pitched in yesterday and helped us with the food prep.  
_

Donna sighed heavily as she caught sight of Benedict's reflection in the window and jumped.  He was sitting at the breakfast bar; busy eating a square of the French toast and drinking his coffee.He gave her a jaunty little wave, crinkled his nose and gave her that dimpled smile she loved so much. _  
_

“Good Morning, Darling!  You look surprised to see me.  By the way, this bread and butter pudding is brilliant.”

 

***********************************************

 

Benedict took his time showering and shaving.  After toweling off with a fluffy white bath sheet; he donned a navy blue, fleece-lined track suit.  He made sure to wear a short-sleeved cotton t-shirt underneath the suit as a precaution in case the rehearsal room was over-heated; which they often tended to be in the winter.  After finger combing his unruly curly hair and strapping on his watch, Benedict smoothed the rumpled sheets and duvet over the bed.  He arranged the pillows in a pile against the headboard and put on a pair of purple and pink striped socks and his favourite beat-up white trainers.  Finally, Benedict gathered up his script and the book on Sherlock Holmes that he had been reading and headed out into the hallway towards the kitchen. 

The co-mingled scents of freshly-brewed coffee and spicy cinnamon filled his nose as Benedict emerged into the open area that served as dining area, lounge and work kitchen.  He could see Donna standing across the lounge, looking out the window as she was talking on the phone with her back to him. She was already dressed as well, her heavy winter hooded parka draped over the couch beside her huge handbag, down-filled gloves and the scarf he had given her.

“Morning, Darling!”

Donna didn’t appear to hear him or notice his reflection in the window glass as she animatedly continued with her conversation, so he let her be and went into the kitchen.  He took note that the breakfast bar had been set for both of them. 

“Don’t be a bitch, Carly.  I chose the wrong wording.  What I meant was that I wanted to make him a special breakfast this morning and say goodbye in person.” 

_Oh, how very thoughtful of her to do that for me!_   _I wonder what she made. It certainly smells very tasty._

“Stop making fun of me.  Mom always made us a special breakfast on all the important days of our lives.  Don’t you remember how she always tucked cute little notes into our school lunches?”

_So it seems Antonia was just like Mum when they were smalls.  Mum always made me eggs and soldiers on special mornings.  
_

“How can you suggest toast?  It’ll get soggy.  Toast needs to be freshly made right before you’re going to eat it.”

_Haha!  I remember that snarky column Donna wrote on the proper way to prepare and serve toast.  If I recall, that bloke wound up closing his version of an American diner a month after the column ran._

“Then you know I’m right.” _  
_

_Isn’t she always though?_ Benedict chuckled quietly to himself as he approached the coffee maker.  _Ah, the coffee must just have finished brewing.  It smells divine;_ he thought as he filled a mug and went about adding sugar and milk to it.

Benedict took a sip of his coffee and inspected the contents of the glass baking dish.

_Mmmm…she made bread and butter pudding for breakfast.  Now, this is a special treat!_ Benedict cut himself a large square and plated it.  He could smell the butter, and maple pecan topping. _Hmmm…I don’t think I need to put any extra butter or syrup on this.  It looks sweet enough already. My love knows what a tart I am for anything sweet._

“I made baked French toast; so breakfast is taken care of.”

_Oh, so this is French toast.  It looks more like bread and butter pudding to me,_ thought Benedict as he took his coffee and plate over to the breakfast bar and sat on the stool he usually sat on when at Donna’s flat. 

“All I want to do is bring Benedict his wake-up coffee before I left.  What’s wrong with wishing him good luck today?”

_There’s nothing wrong with it. That’s very sweet of Donna to want to do that. Oh, God, this French toast is to die for…so fucking good._

“I think that only applies to when they’re in a play on opening night.”

_Apparently, Carly wants Donna to go around sooner than expected. Those two waste more time bickering back and forth, bless them.  All Donna had to do was tell her she’d be right over and let it be._

Benedict continued to eat his breakfast as he listened to Donna prattle on with her sister.  Finally, she completed the call and noticed his reflection in the glass.  He gave her a little wave, which startled her.   _  
_

“Good Morning, Darling!  You look surprised to see me.  By the way, this bread and butter pudding is brilliant.”

 

***********************************************

 

Donna was startled to see that Benedict was sitting at the breakfast bar eating the French toast and drinking coffee.  He appeared to be all dressed and ready to head out to his table read.  She approached the breakfast bar and wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him tight.  He smelled faintly of his Attimo cologne.

“It’s French toast and a good morning to you, too!” Donna said as they exchanged kisses.  She noted that he had plated some of the French toast for her as well and had made her a cup of English breakfast tea while she had been on the phone.  “I wanted to surprise you this morning, and instead you’ve surprised me!”

“But you _have_ surprised me.  This is one of the best breakfast concoctions I’ve ever tasted.” 

“You may thank Paula Deen - it’s her recipe.  I hope I didn’t wake you.”

“Surprisingly, I woke up on my own.  I considered having a lie in; but I found myself too excited to go back to sleep.”

Donna sat beside him and took a sip of her tea.  “You make the best tea, Benedict.  Thank you.”

“I must admit that I cheated this morning.  I used one of your sachets and the hot water tap.”

“You still make it better than I do.”

“I hope all this hasn’t caused a rift between you and Carly,” Benedict said, indicating the food before him.  “I know you committed to helping cook this morning.  Is there trouble in _Dr. Who_ paradise already?”

“Not yet.  Carly decided to get an even earlier start than we agreed upon; and got pissed off that I didn’t somehow receive her telepathic message that she wanted me there as well. All she had to do was tell me last night that she wanted to change the time.”

“Off you go then.”

“As soon as I eat this yummy French toast. Forgive me if I don’t talk.  I need to shovel this in and get moving.”

“Leave the washing up to me then.” Benedict finished his French toast and brought the empty plate and mug over to the dishwasher.  “I’ve got plenty of time before Andrew comes to collect me at eight.”

Donna quickly finished her breakfast and hopped off the stool.  “Carly just didn’t understand that today is very important to you.”

“It’s just a table read, Donna.  It’s the first step in a long process, but I am excited to start work on this project.  I have a feeling it’s going to be great fun.”

“Can I wish you good luck?”

“Of course.”

“Carly and I were having a little debate.  She thought it was bad luck to do that, and I told her that only applies to when an actor is about to go out on stage.”

“True.  Then you can tell me to break a leg.”

“That always struck me as an odd thing to say; but my father always said it was a tradition to say that on opening night.”

Benedict nodded in agreement as he helped her on with her coat.

“So what exactly is going to happen at this table read? Is it like a rehearsal?”

“Well, the read-through or table read of a script is the first major step in the production of a project for the cast. It's attended by all those who have speaking roles, as well as the producers, writers, the director and other key crew members such as the makeup and costume people, the production designer and special effects supervisor along with the financiers and backers for the project. It’s not a rehearsal as you know it.”

“That sounds like there will be a lot of people there.”

“I’d say around thirty or forty will be there today; and that won’t be everyone who’s a part of the show.”

“What do you get out of this?”

“For us actors, it's the first time we sit together and read through the dialog aloud.  This allows us to begin to gauge reactions, interactions, and start to take our first steps in defining our performances. Another member of the crew, usually the writer or director, narrates the stage direction in the script so the attendees are able to follow the plot as it unfolds.”

“Are you going to do this for every episode?”

Benedict nodded.  “From what I’ve been told, the read-throughs will always take place on the first day of the week before filming begins. The remainder of this week will be used for the cast to prepare and rehearse more fully prior to the start of filming. As each episode of the series is produced separately from the others - effectively treated like a film in its production methodology - there is a read-through for each the week before that episode begins filming.  Oh, and I'll have a week's break in between each episode.”

_I get it.  They get together to read the script out loud the week before they film. Then they rehearse and film.  
_

“Well, I wish you good luck today and hope you have a great time,” said Donna as she kissed him goodbye.  “Text me if you can and let me know how it’s going.”

“I will,” promised Benedict, returning the kiss.  “I wish you the best of luck on your endeavor as well, my darling!”

 

 

Benedict Cumberbatch and Andrew Scott arrived at RADA Studios to find the medium-sized rehearsal room already crowded with _Sherlock_ cast and key crew members.  Benedict recognized most of the core cast and crew from when he filmed the pilot, _A Study in Pink_.  Everyone was milling about chatting and introducing themselves to each other.  Steve Moffat and Mark Gatiss were in a huddle talking with Paul McGuigan, who was to be the episode’s director.

Three long rectangular tables had been set up to form a U with another row of chairs behind what was the top of the table. Those chairs would be occupied by key crew, who were integral to the show’s production.  The tables had bowls of fresh fruit and biscuit tins placed at intervals along the length of each section with bottles of still water at each place along with pens, sharpened pencils and highlighters in various colours. A long table that was set up on the far side of the room held large stainless steel urns filled with regular and decaffeinated coffee and hot water for those who preferred tea. A small selection of tea sachets sat in a wicker basket beside the hot water urn in addition to milk and a variety of sweeteners.  There was also a platter of croissants and assorted donuts and breakfast pastries.  

Benedict noticed that name cards had been set out at each place, identifying the future occupant. He quickly found his seat at the top table flanked by Martin Freeman and Rupert Graves, who played Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade.  There was a card for Una beside Rupert, and Andrew found his seat on the opposite side, beside Vinette Robinson, who would be playing Sergeant Sally Donovan going forward.  Andrew chuckled when he saw that his card was simply labeled ‘Jim/IT’.

“For now I’m only going to be known as Jim from IT,” Andrew whispered to Benedict.  “Mark's hoping to surprise everyone at the end of the read.”

“Everyone's already read the script so they'll know that you're Moriarty - unless they've forgotten.  I was completely blind-sided the first time I read the script,” Benedict whispered back.  “I did not see it coming at all.  I’m looking forward to hearing your portrayal of him.”

“Benedict!” called out Una Stubbs from across the room.  She had been chatting with Rupert Graves and waved him over.

“Hello, Una,” Benedict said, kissing her on both cheeks.  “How lovely it is to be working together again yes?”

“I’ve been looking forward to it for weeks now,” confirmed Una. 

“Nice to be working with you again, Ben,” said Rupert, shaking Benedict’s hand.  “Una was just telling me that you’ve gotten yourself engaged since we last got together. Congratulations!”

Benedict smiled.  “Yes, thank you.”

“I overheard Sue saying that some of the cast and crew aren’t here due to the flu,” whispered Una.  “I’m glad I got my flu shot.”

“We were all vaccinated in my house,” said Rupert.  “With four kids and a pregnant wife, we don’t need to take unnecessary chances.”

_Nor do I need to be exposed to it; so I’m chuffed that they all had the good sense to stay home with their germs,_ thought Benedict.  _Donna would be furious if she knew I never got my shot.  Hmmm…is it me or is that fucking miserable headache coming back?  I really need to cut back on the drinking when I go to events. All I remember of the wedding’s night do is Olivia filming me dancing like a drunken arse to ‘Thriller’, which Donna thought was hysterical…or could this be the start of a head cold?  I hope not!  I can’t afford to get sick now – of all bloody times!_

“Everyone, would you kindly take your seats so we can begin,” announced Sue Vertue from the center of the room.  “We’re using place cards so everyone can get up to speed on who’s playing who.”

Once everyone was settled at their respective places, Sue continued with her announcements.  "Thank you all for being here so promptly.  Before we start there are going to be a couple of changes in casting for this read only due to the bloody flu that's making the rounds:  I'll be reading the part of Miss Wenceslas, Beryl Vertue will be reading the part of Professor Cairns and Steve Moffat will be reading the part of Andrew West.  I've personally spoken with each of the actors, and they are all expected to be fully recovered by the time we begin filming.  The same applies to our missing crew members as well.  And now Steve is going to say a few words."

Sue smiled at everyone and took her place at the table, which was in-between her husband, Steve Moffat; and Nicholas Gadd, who was playing one of the bomb kidnap victims.

"Welcome to the table read of _The Great Game_ , which was written by my esteemed co-creator, Mark Gatiss," began Steve, indicating Mark with a nod of his head as he stood up. "Mark has really out done himself this time.  It's a brilliant script - utterly fantastic - and we're looking forward to hearing his words come to life.  So, without further babbling on my part, I'm going to turn the proceedings over to our extraordinary director, Mr. Paul McGuigan."

“Thank you, Steve.  Ladies and Gentlemen, if we could please introduce ourselves along with our role,” began Paul McGuigan, with a nod towards Benedict.  “Let’s start with the top table and we’ll go around to the left.”

Benedict felt a chill go up his spine as he uttered the words that would soon change his life in ways he could not imagine.

“Benedict Cumberbatch, play Sherlock Holmes.”

“I’m Martin Freeman, play Watson.”

“Louise Brealey, play Molly Hooper.”

 

*****************************************************

 

“It looks like we’ve got everything under control,” observed Donna Saint James as she walked around Carldonn’s kitchen with her clipboard, busily checking off the dishes that were in the final stages of preparation.  “The soups will be done by lunch?”

“Aye,” confirmed George.  “We’ll cool the ones destined for the night shoot and store them in the walk in.  Then we’ll reheat them in the catering trailer that they’re going to provide on location.”

Donna nodded as she squeezed past Maria, who was checking on the hot entrees.  “The vegetarian lasagna smells delicious, Maria.”

“It needs another thirty minutes, and then it needs time for the filling to set properly so it’ll hold its shape once we cut it into serving portions.”

“There’s nothing worse than soupy lasagna,” declared Donna with an exaggerated grimace.

“Who could forget your review of Bocca di Lupo’s lasagna?” giggled Maria.

“I don’t recall reading that one,” said Emily, who was busy putting labels on all the cooked food.

“It was one of the first bad reviews I wrote after I moved here,” snickered Donna.  “And remains one of my favorites to this day.”

“That review put her on the map!” laughed Karl.  “Oh, it was brutal that!  You referred to it as a rather creative and unique lasagna soup.”

“Which our Donna then realized was an epic failure of the chef’s having a go at making traditional lasagna that her Gran would have binned rather than serve her family or friends,” continued George.

“The restaurant’s motto is ‘for when you’re hungry like a wolf’ – well, Donna just ran with that and wrote that Duran Duran must have been in the kitchen cooking that night,” added Maria.

“I don’t get it,” said Emily.

“You’re too young, Lovey,” laughed George.  “The band Duran Duran is famous for a song called ‘Hungry Like the Wolf’; so Donna was taking the piss and insinuating that the band must have been in the kitchen and couldn’t cook, which is why the lasagna was such rubbish.”

“Oh, I get it now,” laughed Emily.

“The other critics I work with actually went over there to see if it was as bad as I had said it was,” laughed Donna.  “They couldn’t believe they would serve customers lasagna that couldn’t hold its shape.”

“Donna, do you have a minute?” asked Carly from the doorway to the kitchen.

“Sure.”

Donna followed her sister out into their tiny office.  “What’s the matter, Curly Carly?”

Carly began to pace back and forth. “I think that today just proved to us that our kitchen is too small to do catering on such a large scale. Everyone is packed in there like sardines, and they’re all tripping over each other.”

“I agree.  Someone is going to get hurt. We need more space.”

“Exactly, but where?  We’ll lose our customer base if we move. This is a great location.”

“We don’t have to move out.  We just expand to the space currently occupied by the Sushi bar next door,” replied Donna.

“Are you going to have Uncle Angelo send over some of his people to…convince them to move out?”

“Hush!  We’re not supposed to talk about that side of Uncle Angelo’s business, remember?”

“I was joking, Donna.  Go ahead, so what was Heather’s bright idea to get them evicted?”

“They don’t need to be evicted. Heather grabbed me as soon as I got in and told me the couple next door who run the sushi bar is moving because there is so much competition in the area already.”

“I feel sorry for them.  I never see anyone in there,” said Carly. “There’s already Wasabi, Itsu and Yo Sushi in the immediate area.”

“Don’t feel too sorry, they found a good spot near the Liverpool Tube Station; so they’ll have lots of business - especially during weekdays.”

“I’d like to see their kitchen.”

“There’s nothing to see. They’re taking all the equipment with them to the new place, so we would have to buy some new equipment.  I think we should contact the realtor and see how much the landlord wants to rent it to us. All we would have to do is break through the wall, buy some equipment and set up a seating area. Voila – we double our kitchen space, acquire a seating area and could even have another office.”

Carly frowned at Donna. “It sounds wonderful; but the question is: Can we afford it?”

“We’d probably have to take out a loan.”

“Are you shitting me, Donna?  We’ve already taken out a loan to cover the costs of catering _Dr. Who_!”

“I’m sure the bank will increase our credit line.  We have excellent credit scores.”

“Jesus Christ.  I don’t know about that.  _Dr. Who_ isn’t going to be steady income.  They only need us when they’re filming on location in London.”

“We’ve always talked about expanding to include an indoor seating area.”

“Yes, that’s right.  We’ve talked about it, Donna. It was a dream.”

“Well, this would be our chance to actually do it! We can have an indoor seating area next door.  Several customers have suggested it.  We might even be able to expand our outdoor seating area and give Paul’s some more competition.  You have to go upstairs to their seating area.  All our seating would be on the ground floor.”

“That would be appealing,” said Carly.  “A lot of people don’t even realize that Paul’s has seating upstairs.”

“Next door is the same size as where we are now; so we might be able to put Heather and Emily in their own office.”

“Or we could all be in a larger office.  I like the idea of keeping an eye on them. Perhaps we could buy used kitchen equipment to save some money.”

“It does no harm to talk to the landlord, Curly Carly.”

“I suppose not.”

“I’ll ask Heather to set up an appointment,” said Donna as her cellphone began to ring.  She smiled when she saw it was Benedict.  “It’s Benedict calling from the table read.”

“Tell him I said hello,” said Carly.  “I’m going to relieve Janice at the counter now.”

“I hate to interrupt; but the lunch crowd has descended upon us like locusts,” said Emily, rushing out from the kitchen.  “Janice just rang the kitchen and said it looks like there’s a large tour group milling about outside. Heather’s outside embellishing the sandwich board and trying to talk them into giving us a go.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” grinned Carly, as she rubbed her hands together.  “Let’s go sell some lunch, ladies!”

“I’ll be there in a minute,” replied Donna as she answered her phone. “Hi Honey!  How’s it going?”

_“It’s fucking brilliant!  It sounds even better when the lines are read aloud by all the players.  All the jokes are landing where they should. Martin is just a dream to work with – we’re getting on very well.”_

“What was everyone’s reaction to Andrew’s big reveal?”

Benedict laughed.  _“What an amazing moment that was! Some of the cast and crew had actually forgotten that he would be revealed as Moriarty in the end.  I knew, and I was still caught off guard by Andrew's reading.  I’d say the reactions were mostly shocked and surprised, followed by fright – it was a very tense scene to read on paper; but to hear the actual words being uttered was fucking fantastic.  It gave me goosebumps. It all came together beautifully, Darling.  Andrew’s performance is absolutely riveting.  Everyone burst into spontaneous applause at the end.”_

“That’s great news!”

_“It’s an embarrassment of riches to be associated with such a wealth of talent.”_

“So, you’re done now?”

_“Heavens, no!  After we did the first read-through, we went back over it to discuss the bits that didn’t work.  We’re taking a lunch break whilst Mark does a bit of re-writing and then we’ll do a final read-through.”_

“Are you going out to lunch?”

_“Erm…no.  They brought in a catered lunch, so everyone can do some socializing in between reads.”_

“What are you having?”

_“Erm…well, I’m not quite sure.  It’s supposed to be…I want to say salad; but I’ve never seen brown lettuce like this except in a rubbish bin.  Hmm...the tomatoes are over-ripe…no…make that spoilt.  Tomatoes aren’t supposed to have white fuzz on them that I know of."_

"Maybe they foamed the dressing?"

_"I know the difference between foam and fuzz, Sweetheart."_

_And that was the snotty version of Sweetheart._

"I'm sorry to have assumed you couldn't tell rotten tomatoes from foam."

_"Bloody hell!  Speaking of dressing, I think whoever made this was extra heavy-handed with the dressing because the greens are limp as could be.”_

“But you like a lot of dressing on your salad.”

_“Not this much!  Even I have my limits, Donna! Christ…I spoke out of turn. The salad is not overdressed. The fucking cucumbers are slimy!”_

“Don’t eat that, Ben!  You don’t want to get sick!”

_“Hmmm…how curious.  The chicken is supposed to have been grilled; but it looks poached to me…and they left the skin on, which isn’t browned or crispy-looking.  It looks like when you make chicken soup…all pale and flabby.  It looks…”_

“I get the picture.  Your description does it justice.”

_“Oh, no it doesn’t.  I wish you could see these croutons…are croutons supposed to be this hard? You could use them to hammer nails into wood.  Wait! Shall I take a photo with my camera phone and send it to you?”_

“It’s okay, Ben Honey. I’ll take your word that the salad is not up to par.”

_“They need to sack this catering company.  I think I might actually pass on this and just have some Diet Coke and fruit.”_

“That sounds like a safe choice…”

_“Well, they did send over bananas that were ready to be made into banana bread. It’s a good thing I don’t have much of an appetite.”_

“That sounds awful!  Where did they order from? What about the others’ food?  How does it look?”

_“I don’t know.  I just helped myself and came out here so I could chat with you in private.”_

“Did they order one big salad?”

_“Yeah and some assorted sandwiches and wraps.  I thought some salad would be light.  I’m not all that hungry.  So, anyway, how is your day going? Are you and Carly still at war?”_

“No.  A truce has been declared; so all’s well and under control.  We just came to realize that we could probably do with a larger kitchen.”

_“Dr. Who isn’t steady, guaranteed work.  You’ve been hired to be their location caterer for their London shoots. You can’t manage with the space you have already?”_

“I know it isn’t a steady source of income; but the extra money is great.   We’ll have enough left over to turn a modest profit.”

_“Really?”_

“You sound skeptical.”

_“That’s because I am.”_

“Heather assures us that…”

_“Now, I really am skeptical.”_

“I know you won’t want to hear this; but Heather hasn’t been wrong yet.  Say what you will about the girl…”

_“And I’ve got plenty to say…”_

“She possesses good business sense.”

_“Does Heather have anything to do with this sudden yen for a larger kitchen?”_

“Why do you ask?”

_“I ask because neither you nor Carly have ever bitched about the kitchen being too small until today.”_

“That’s because it was fine until this morning.  Now, we’re tripping over one another.  Heather pointed out that the sushi bar next door is moving; so we were thinking of possibly renting it in order to double our kitchen space.”

Benedict said nothing.

“Then we could also have that indoor seating area we’ve been dreaming about.  That would be good for our breakfast and lunch trade.  I’m tired of seeing people buy stuff and have nowhere to eat it unless the weather’s nice or worse bring their food over to sit at Paul’s indoor or outdoor seating.”

_“Sounds like you want to go head-to-head with Paul.”_

“I guess we do.  Our food is different though. Paul’s has that tiny upstairs seating area that hardly anyone ever thinks to go up to.  Heck, I never even realized they had a place to sit indoors until Carly told me one day. If we put in seating, there are no stairs involved. It’s right there. And we could also have a larger office or another one that we could put Heather and Emily in.”

Benedict said nothing.

“Why are you not saying anything?”

_“Erm…perhaps because I think I should mind my own business.”_

“The last time there was a discussion about expanding Carldonn, you and Steve were both very vocal about your concerns.”

Benedict said nothing.

“OH!  I see.  You don’t think this is a good idea.”

Benedict said nothing.

“Ben, please give me your opinion.  I really do value it.”

Donna heard him breathe in deeply and let it out slowly as if he were being forced to give an opinion he didn’t want to give.

_“It still remains to be seen whether catering Dr. Who’s London shoots will be truly successful. I personally think leasing out additional space at this time is a truly shit idea. Get permission to set up outdoor seating in fair weather; but in the interim I would see how things work out with Dr. Who before moving on to other things.”_

“Carly and I will take your comments under advisement like we did the last time.”

The sound of Benedict snorting came over the phone line.  _“Of course you will, bless you both.  It is quite evident to me that you and Carly will do whatever you fancy just as you did last time. Did Carly ask Steve what his thoughts were on this expansion yet?”_

“He’s been in surgery; but I’m sure they will be in line with yours.”

Donna heard a voice calling out to Benedict in the background.  “Is someone calling you?”

_“Ah, it seems the lunch break is now over.  I’d best ring off now.  Talk later, Darling.  Just promise me you won’t jump on anything until we’ve had a chance to properly discuss it – all four of us.”_

“You’re going to text Steve now, aren’t you?”

_“Of course, the man needs to be informed.”_

“Try and not be negative in your text.”

_“I promise I will be as neutral as possible.”_

“Okay.  Love you.”

_“I love you, too.  Cheers.”_

Donna joined her sister and Janice behind the counter as the tour group crowded into the shop.  The head of the group inquired if there was a place to sit and warm up while they ate, and Carly had to tell them no.  After a brief discussion, the majority left to go over to Paul's and they others remained to eat standing up in front of the window. 

"This is exactly why we need more room," Donna whispered to Carly.  "We've lost business today because people don't want to eat outside in the cold."

“How’s the read going?” asked Carly as she poured the coconut-scented coffee into four paper hot cups.

“Fine.  Did you say anything to Steve yet about the possibility of renting out next door?”

“Not yet.  Who has time?”

“Benedict,” replied Donna.  “He’s busy sending him the details via text as we speak.”

“Excuse me, Donna,” said Emily, coming around the counter.  “You’ve got a call on the land line from Mark Gatiss.  I told him you were busy; but he insisted on speaking to you for just a minute.”

Donna and Carly exchanged worried glances.

“Oh, oh!” said Janice.  “I wonder what he wants.  I hope there aren’t more people sick.”

“Crap!  I bet something is wrong with tonight’s catering job,” moaned Carly.  “I hope to God he’s not going to cancel out on us.  What will we do with all that food?”

“Number one: They can’t just cancel and leave us high and dry.  We have a contract.  They’d still have to pay us for the job,” said Donna.  “Number two:  we’ll just donate the food to the food bank if it comes to that, which I don’t think it will.  Number three:  I'm sure Steve Moffat's assistant would be the one making the call if the shoot were cancelled.  Mark must have a different reason for calling. Can you please take over for me, while I talk to him, Emmy?”

“Of course,” replied Emily, smiling at the man Donna had been waiting on.  “What would you fancy today, Sir?  The duck confit taco is lovely.  I just had one myself and it’s brilliant!  I’ve never had moister duck in my life.”

_You kill me, Emily!  Today was the first time you ever tasted duck!_ Donna chuckled to herself as she rushed out of the store and into the back office. As she burst through the doorway, she knocked a surprised Heather back into the chair she had just gotten up from.  She was holding an empty plate and licking her fingers with gusto.

“Careful, Donna!”

“Sorry for interrupting your lunch, Heather, but I need to take this call,” Donna said picking up the receiver.

Donna noticed that Heather didn’t budge.  _The little darling is going to listen in.  Oh, what do I care?  It has to be he wants me to set aside food or wants us to cater a party for him and Ian._

“Hello, Mark.  How’s the table read going?”

_“Splendid!  We couldn’t have asked for better.  I was just saying to Steve that we are truly blessed to have hired such amazing talent. Such a pity I can’t say the same of our caterer.”_

“Benedict said the lunch wasn’t the best,” commented Donna.

_“Ben was being too kind, I’m afraid.  The food they sent over is fit for the bins. I’m going across the street to order some takeaway Chinese.  It's a pity you're so far from here.”_

_Hmmm…so that lunch really was as bad as Benedict said it was.  Could this be why he’s calling?_

“I’m glad to hear that the reading is going well...in spite of the lacking cuisine.”

_“Ben and Martin are truly our Holmes and Watson come to life. I haven’t stopped smiling since the first lines were read aloud. I cannot wait to start filming next week.”_

“So, how can I help you, Mark?”

_“Well, I was wondering if I might bring someone around this week to sample your delicious offerings?”_

Donna felt a sudden feeling of excitement fill her stomach. _OH MY GOSH!  Is this going to lead to where I hope it will?_

“Yes, please do.  We’re always happy to have a chance to impress a potential new customer. Might I ask who?”

_“Our producer, Sue Vertue,”_ replied Mark.  _“Well, I’d best be ringing off now. I’ve got some cranky, hungry actors to feed. I’ll let you know when we’re in the vicinity.”_

Donna cradled the phone and tapped her lips as she thought about the conversation.  “YES!” she shouted and fist-pumped the air.  “This is just the break we’ve been waiting for!  What perfect timing!”

“So what was that all about?” inquired Heather with a raised eyebrow.  _I bet he’s going to hook us up with another TV show - Sherlock._

Donna Saint James smiled widely at Heather MacPherson.  “It’s all about opportunity, Heather!  Can you please set up a meeting for Carly and me with the landlord as soon as possible?”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. We finally enter the Sherlock era! I have to say that writing the Sherlock cast has been quite a challenge for me - especially Martin Freeman. 
> 
> 2\. I have no idea how an actual 'table read' for Sherlock would have been conducted; so the one portrayed in this chapter is purely fictional. There are a few photographs and a little footage taken; so I extrapolated from there.
> 
> 3\. I used two sources of reference material for this chapter, which are credited in #'s 4 & 5 below.
> 
> 4\. The actual dialog was taken from the BBC Script, which has been uploaded: http://downloads.bbc.co.uk/writersroom/scripts/Sherlock-The-Great-Game-final-shooting-script.pdf
> 
> 5\. Additional dialog and some of the anecdotes were taken from the episode transcripts that the lovely Ariane DeVere has painstakingly put together. They can be found on her Dreamwidth blog site: arianedevere.dreamwidth.org. Ariane's blog contains transcripts of all the episodes, including the DVD Audio Commentaries, which I used for some of the dialog and anecdotes, and all the DVD special features transcripts. This is a treasure trove of information and a delight to read. I know I always had trouble understanding some of the dialog and commentaries; so this blog was a big help! Kudos to Ariane! 
> 
> 6\. The winter of 2010 was supposed to be one of the coldest winter's recorded in the UK.
> 
> 7\. I couldn't find mention made of where the Sherlock read throughs/rehearsals actually took place; so I did some research and found that RADA had studios to rent out for these types of things. Therefore, this story will use RADA as the read through/rehearsal location for Sherlock. 
> 
> 8\. Bocca di Lupo is a real restaurant in London; and No - I didn't like their lasagna when I had it. The rest of the meal was fine; but I've had better.
> 
> 9\. Re the bit where it sounds as if they're trying to keep Andrew's character a secret from the cast - obviously they couldn't as everyone would have read the script; so it's his performance that's the surprise. He supposedly scared the producers at his audition. LOL! 
> 
> 10\. I couldn't find photos of a table read for The Great Game; so I used the ones from A Study in Pink.


	170. Chapter 170

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Martin Freeman leads a lunchtime rebellion at rehearsal. Benedict tries to fool himself and everyone else that he’s not very sick as his flu worsens. 
> 
> Please note that an appearance by Martin Freeman means there will be more swearing than usual in this chapter, which is a lot to begin with as is! If easily offended, feel free to skip.
> 
> Note: I’ll be using *************** for things happening at the same time.

 

At first, Benedict Cumberbatch hadn’t thought anything was amiss with his health.  The morning after Mark and Juliette Chaplin’s wedding, he had awoken with a vicious hangover, which he assumed was courtesy of over indulging in drink at the wedding breakfast.  Benedict amazed himself and Donna that he had somehow managed to drag himself out of bed to attend the post wedding brunch at the Ritz the following morning. 

Afterwards, he and Donna had returned to her flat.  They both changed and joined the staff at Carldonn to assist with the preparations for the next day, which was to be their first location catering for _Dr. Who_.  After a couple of hours spent chopping various vegetables, Benedict told Donna he was very tired due to lack of sleep.  Donna urged him to return to her flat; so he could rest up and prepare for the next day’s _Sherlock_ table read. 

Once back in Donna’s flat, Benedict had changed back into his pajamas and settled on the couch with the Sunday papers and a cup of hot Earl Grey tea.  He was surprised that he wasn’t feeling any better given he had taken his tried and true, three aspirin hangover remedy and drank plenty of water. After turning up the heat to ward off a chill, Benedict covered himself with the throw Donna kept neatly folded on the ottoman and started to read the Times.  His head still ached and his eyes were blurry and burned a bit.  After popping two more aspirin, Benedict crawled into Donna’s bed and pulled the covers over his head hoping that he’d be fine by the morning in order to be at his best for the first table read.

Monday morning, Benedict awoke feeling refreshed and had made it through the table read.  However, by nightfall the nagging headache had returned with a vengeance along with a runny nose.  A general achiness soon enveloped him, and he wanted only to sleep.  He told a concerned Donna that he was simply feeling exhausted from being short on sleep and had gone to bed after picking at his dinner.  Soon his nose was starting to feel stuffy along with his ears. Benedict knew deep down inside that she suspected he was getting sick.  When he got up in the middle of the night with a severely parched throat from mouth breathing, he went to the kitchen for some orange juice and found that Donna had been busy whilst he slept.  She had made him a large pot of chicken soup, which she stored in the refrigerator in serving size plastic containers.

Tuesday morning had not only dawned brutally cold but also brought bad news from New York.  Donna’s brother, Kenny, had called to tell her and Carly that Colin had suffered a heart attack and was in hospital.  After some debate, Steve had driven both women to Heathrow to catch a standby flight to JFK Airport.  The Carldonn staff swore they could handle the _Dr. Who_ catering after their successful first night and encouraged Donna and Carly to go be with their grandfather.  The women had left their Executive Chef, Maria, in charge whilst they were gone.

Benedict himself had not fared well overnight.  That morning he found himself still in possession of a scratchy throat as well as the stuffy, yet persistently runny nose. He was relieved that in the mad rush to get to the airport, Donna had not noticed that he was significantly worse than the day before.  However, Benedict found that he had been mistaken as she had left him various cold remedies on the breakfast bar with a note to get enough rest, eat the soup and feel better.  After reading all the drowsiness warnings on the medicines, Benedict opted not to take any of them for fear it would make him sleepy, and he needed to be alert at the rehearsals.  He resolved to soldier through whatever bug it was he had caught.  The last thing he wanted was to disrupt the rehearsal.

Unfortunately, Benedict was unable to hide the fact that he was sick at rehearsal. After a morning of sniffling and sneezing, he had returned from a short break to find that Sue Vertue had provided him with his own box of facial tissues along with a squeeze bottle of honey and lemon slices for his tea. They obviously knew he was down with something. 

Carly’s husband, Steve, had texted Benedict that they should go and get some dinner together that evening; which he suspected might be an excuse to examine him.  He figured Donna must have mentioned he was sick and asked Steve to look in on him.  However, the rehearsal ran quite late; and Steve texted him that he had to be in bed early as he had surgery in the morning. Benedict decided to return to his own flat in Hampstead as he was feeling homesick and was longing to sleep in his own bed.  He also thought it a brilliant way of avoiding an exam by Steve.

Fortunately, Wednesday was a shorter day for him; but by then the cold had come on with full force.  Benedict spent the remainder of the day in bed hoping things would improve.  Due to the time difference and his schedule, Benedict had not spoken directly with Donna.  There had been brief emails keeping him abreast of Colin’s condition.  Apparently, the older man had been given two stents and would be returning home as soon as his condition stabilized.  Benedict congratulated himself on being quite adept at making sure to avoid having any contact with Donna other than via emails. He would always beg off by emailing her that whatever time she suggested for a Skype call wasn’t convenient.  Benedict knew that he could only use the excuse of work for so long; but at least for the time being Donna wouldn’t know how sick he really was.  

 

 

Thursday Morning:

Benedict had awakened with chills and a feeling of malaise.  He drank some hot tea, took his morning spoonful of raw honey and dragged himself out of the house to run in Hampstead Heath in the icy rain.  Five minutes into his run, Benedict was feeling light-headed and winded, causing him to return to his flat.  He sat in the vestibule on the stairs for a few minutes whilst Bob, his downstairs neighbor, had returned from his night job.  Bob inquired if he was feeling poorly and needed help getting up the stairs.  Benedict assured him that he was fine and had only returned home due to the icy pavement as he was afraid of slipping and breaking a bone.  As soon as he made his way upstairs, he took the opportunity to crawl back into bed for a quick kip and then tried a hot shower in order to clear his stuffy nose.   Benedict knew he had a long day ahead of him and prayed that he’d be able to soldier through it.

Two hours later; actors Benedict Cumberbatch, Martin Freeman, Louise Brealey and Andrew Scott had once again gathered in Central London for a rehearsal of some scenes of _The Great Game_.  The rehearsals had been taking place in the same overheated rehearsal room at RADA that they had been using all week. Martin had voiced his displeasure several times throughout the rehearsal about the excessive warmth in his usual salty fashion.  When none of the producers made a move to remedy the situation, Martin halted the rehearsal; so he could open a window to let in some cold air.  This caused an already miserable Benedict to shiver and silently swear to himself.  The open window did little to alleviate the problem, so a grumpy Martin fashioned himself a fan from a blank page of the script.  He sat conspicuously fanning himself with a fan whilst drinking iced water in order to make his point.  On the other hand, Benedict was feeling chilled to the bone as he sat at the table beside Martin trying to concentrate on his lines. 

After arriving at RADA on time, Benedict had helped himself to a banana and a blueberry muffin; but found he had little appetite.  He spent the morning trying his best not to drip nasal secretions onto the table whilst sipping hot tea that was generously laced with honey and lemon.  His scratchy throat had rapidly progressed to sore, and a hacking cough had developed during the course of the morning along with the ever-present headache and general achiness. 

_Let’s face it. You’ve got the motherfucking flu, Benedict. Stop kidding yourself.  This is much worse than just a mere cold. You will never hear the end of it from Donna once she’s worked it out that you’ve been avoiding letting her hear and see you. Steve is also not stupid.  He’s probably worked it out that you’ve gone back to Hampstead so he can’t pop in to examine you.  I can’t afford to be sick now.  I’m having such a good time seeing this all come together!_

Steve Moffat wasn’t present that day as he was needed over at a location shoot for _Dr. Who_ in Southwark.  However, Mark Gatiss, who had penned this episode; and Sue Vertue were both present along with director, Paul McGuigan.  Mark was anxious about the re-write he had done on the scene they were currently rehearsing whilst Sue was there to make sure everything was running smoothly in general. 

Benedict covered his mouth and coughed, then dabbed at his nose with a tissue. His nose was red and felt increasingly sore with every wipe.  He quickly sipped some tea and tried a bite of the muffin; but every swallow was an exercise in agony.  He gave up and pushed it away in favour of his tea.

“Are you feeling alright, Ben?” asked a worried-looking Mark Gatiss.

“That cough sounds like its gone straight to your chest,” observed Paul McGuigan.

_Yes, and it feels like it, too.  Ugh!  I feel like I have a fever as well; but I don’t want them to ring for a doctor or to send me home.  I’m having such a good time in spite of my malady. I can soldier on without making a fuss, and I sure as shit don’t want them making a fuss over me either.  
_

Paul, Mark and Sue all exchanged concerned glances when Benedict covered his mouth and coughed again.

“Have you considered having a doctor take a look at you?” asked Paul gently.  “Your voice sounds rather rough.”

“And we need that voice in peak condition for filming next week,” Mark reminded him as he peeled an orange. 

 _Who knows that better than I do?_ Thought Benedict.  _Fuck me!  What a time to take ill!_

“My doctor’s on honeymoon; but it’s just a bit of a cold is all,” replied Benedict, dabbing at his nose again. “I’ll be fine as soon as I get some chicken soup into me.” 

_I lie.  My future brother- in- law is a doctor and would be happy to have a go at me.  All I have to do is text or call him._

“Tell your lovely fiancée that she needs to take better care of you,” half-teased Sue.

“Donna takes brilliant care of me already,” retorted Benedict, sneezing into a tissue. “It’s just that she’s still in New York seeing about her Grandad.”

“How’s he doing?” inquired Mark.

Benedict dabbed at his nose.  “Better, and if he keeps improving he’ll be released from hospital as early as tomorrow.  Donna and her sister will be returning on the weekend.”

“Well, from all that I’ve heard from the set; their catering company has done a brilliant job for _Dr. Who_ ,” said Mark. 

“Too bad we can’t say the same about the company that’s doing our catering,” snorted Martin.

“This one used to be very reliable,” said Sue defensively. _I wish he’d stop taking the piss about the food.  I’m doing the best I can with the budget I was given.  It’s not my fault that Dr. Who has a bigger budget!  Perhaps if Sherlock is a hit and renewed for a second season, I can get a bigger budget._

“I notice your use of the phrase ‘used to be’.  That speaks volumes,” retorted Martin.  “Perhaps it’s time to sack the wankers.”

“I have an idea, Sue…” began Mark.

 _He wants to push the posh caterer they’re using for Dr. Who.  I can’t manage to pay any more than I’ve already allotted for catering,_ thought Sue with dread.

“If you’re going to suggest I make everyone a bag lunch, that’s not going to happen,” joked Sue.

“Actually, I was going to suggest…”

_I can’t afford to hire another caterer!  Why is it that he just doesn’t want to understand that?  I know Mark’s one of the Executive Producers, but he needs to bugger off.  I’m the one who deals with the money aspect of things so he and my husband can go off and be creative._

“I’m sure everything has been sorted out for today, and we’ll be pleasantly surprised,” said Sue with an attempt at a reassuring smile.

“You don’t sound very convinced,” snickered Martin.

“I am,” insisted Sue half-heartedly.   _I’m not; but the arse-hole I dressed down on the phone yesterday assured me everything would be tickety-boo today.  
_

“Now, where were we?” said Paul in an effort to change the subject and get his actors back on track.

“We were talking about the excellent catering that the _Dr. Who_ team is enjoying, and the crap catering that we have had to endure all bloody week,” replied Martin.

Mark cleared his throat and addressed Sue.  “Sue, if you’d only allow me to…”

Martin interrupted as he addressed Benedict.  “Am I not right, Ben?”

“I’m going to have to side with Martin.  Whatever they send over is either wrong or of sub-standard quality.” 

“There. You see.  Not only does Ben agree with me, but I’m certain there are others amongst us here who feel the same.” Martin turned in his seat to stare pointedly at Andrew and Louise.  “Am I not right?”

“The catering has been…disappointing at best,” agreed Louise.

“Yesterday they didn’t melt the cheese in my cheese toastie,” pointed out Andrew. 

“Fucking hell! Was that supposed to be cheese?” asked Martin, pretending to be gob-smacked. 

“You could have fooled me,” giggled Benedict. “What about Paul’s cheeseburger that arrived without the burger?”

“I think I had Andrew’s cheese,” snickered Paul. “Let’s just say I’ve had better catering.”

“It’s just that we’re on a rather tight budget, everyone,” shot back Sue, who was now getting annoyed at being ganged up on.

“That I can believe - bless the BBC and their stingy little hearts,” said Martin with a smirk as he drank some water.  “Heaven forbid the actors are allowed to eat properly prepared food.”

“We want this to be a quality production…”

“At the expense of the cast and crew’s stomachs,” interrupted Martin. “May I remind you that a well-fed cast and crew are a happy cast and crew?”

“This caterer has always served us well in the past,” insisted Sue.

 “Well, they’re serving you shit now.  These motherfuckers are cocking up every order or haven’t you noticed?  The plastic food in my daughter’s toy kitchen looks more appetizing!” exclaimed Martin.  “I don’t think I’ve ever had such fucking lousy rubbish catering at any rehearsal or on any set I’ve ever worked on!  Ben, have you ever experienced worse?”

“No, this has been the worst catering I’ve ever had,” rasped Benedict as he blew his nose.  “Excuse me.”

“Andrew, Loo, what about you two?  Have you ever had such crap fed to you prior to this?”

Andrew and Louise exchanged glances, looked at Sue and nodded their agreement.

“They leave a lot to be desired, Sue,” said Louise. “The salad greens look as if they’ve seen better days.”

“And that was Loo being kind,” snorted Martin.  “She found a motherfucking bug in Tuesday’s Caesar salad, which was still alive.”

“I actually brought my own lunch today,” added Andrew.  “I hope you won’t take offense, but whatever I had yesterday didn’t sit well with me.”

“I’ve been on sets that had substandard catering; but this company has utterly outdone themselves,” chimed in Benedict.  “They’ve managed to cock up the lunch orders every single day so far.”

“Well, I’m sure today’s lunch will be an improvement,” said Sue hopefully.  “I did speak with the owner about the slipping quality yesterday; and he’s sending over a nice salad and sandwich platter for us to share – with chicken soup for you, Benedict, per your request.”

“I’m not holding much hope.  These wankers have set the bar very low.”

“There’s no need to be snarky, Martin,” said Sue.  “I’m doing the best I can with what I’ve been given to work with.  All I ask is for your patience.  I’m positive today’s lunch will be better.”

“From your mouth to the catering gods’ ears then,” sighed Martin.  He rolled his eyes at Benedict, who began to laugh.

Mark cleared his throat.  “Speaking of catering…Ben, when you next speak with Donna; please tell her how satisfied everyone on the _Dr. Who_ set has been with the meals,” he said quietly.

Benedict nodded.  “I’ll be sure to tell her tonight.”  _Via email, so she doesn’t have to hear my voice._ He then dissolved into a coughing fit.

“Try sucking on one of these, Ben,” suggested Martin, as he handed Benedict several wrapped, lemon-flavoured boiled sweets.  “I find them quite helpful for keeping the throat lubricated.”

“Thank you,” he rasped to Martin.  “I’m sure I’ll be fine by tomorrow.”

“It’s probably just a case of man flu,” teased Sue. “When you go home, take two paracetamols, have a bowl of chicken soup and get into bed with a hot toddy.  You’ll be feeling better in no time.”

“I find a hot shower works wonders to help open up the sinuses and relieve the pressure,” said Louise. “And if that doesn’t work, then I get in bed with a hot water bottle, a cup of tea and pull the covers over my head.  Oh, and the tea has a good healthy shot of whiskey in it,” she laughed. “That does wonders, too!”

“When I was a small, my mum was always rubbing some sort of smelly salve on my chest before bed,” grimaced Andrew.  “It was bloody awful; but it made me feel better.”

_Maybe I should ask Steve to come around and have a look at me tonight. Mark gets home Sunday; but I’ll be on my way to Cardiff by then. Everyone I encounter knows I’ve got something.  I can’t hide it any longer.  
_

Benedict shivered and pulled his cardigan jumper tighter around him. “Does anyone else feel the chill in here or is it just me?”

“I’m fine,” replied Andrew, who was wearing a short-sleeved t-shirt with a hoodie over it.  “How about you, Darlin’?” he asked Louise.

“It’s nice and toasty over here,” added Louise, who was sat beside Andrew awaiting her cue. “But then we’re right by the radiator, so this is most likely the hottest spot in the bloody room.” 

“Well, if you ask me; it’s fucking hot as hell in here!” piped up Martin. “Can’t someone please ask the cocksuckers who run this place to turn down the bloody fucking heat so we don’t roast to death?”

“Excuse me, I’ll see what I can do,” said Sue; getting to her feet.  She pulled her turtleneck away from her neck and fanned herself with the script as she headed towards the door.  “I’m going to have to side with Martin this time. I’d best check on where our lunch is as well.  It was due here almost half an hour ago.”

“I can’t wait to see what delights today’s catering holds in store for us,” muttered Martin. 

Benedict looked around and noticed that all his co-workers looked uncomfortably warm.  Paul had removed his hat and jacket.  Mark was now fanning himself as well as Martin.  Louise had removed the scarf that was around her neck and was noticeably perspiring.  She took a napkin and blotted the moisture off her face.

 _I don’t get it!  They are all hot, and I’m the only one in this fucking room, who feels cold,_ thought a miserable Benedict _.   I feel awful.  It’s a good thing I told Donna I was going to stay in Hampstead tonight.  She would have been calling Steve to come up to have a look at me had I stayed in her flat. As long as I’m feeling better by the time Donna comes back, she’ll just think it was a little cold.  
_

Benedict felt a wheezing in his chest and a tickle in his throat.  He coughed into a tissue and dabbed at his sore nose.  This time he felt as if he had a wad of phlegm in his mouth and discretely spit it into the tissue.

_Jesus Christ!  I wasn’t doing that until now! Perhaps I should ring Steve up when I leave here, but I’m probably making more out of this than I should.  Like Sue said it’s just man flu, and I’m making too much out of it. It’s just a cold that will run its course by Sunday.  Tomorrow’s Friday and I’m not needed for rehearsal.  I’ll just hunker down in bed over the weekend and take a morning train to Cardiff Sunday; so I have time to settle into my hotel room._

“Let’s pick it up at Mycroft, Ben, if you’re up to it,” said Paul McGuigan.

“I’m fine,” coughed Benedict _.  Jesus, my chest feels funny now as if I have to cough up more shit.  
_

Benedict cleared his throat, drank some water and continued in character.

“Mycroft never texts if he can talk. Look, Andrew West stole the plans, tried to sell them, got his head smashed in for his pains. End of story. The only mystery is this: why is my brother so determined to bore me when somebody else is being so delightfully interesting?”

Benedict pretended to look back into a microscope.  
  
Martin pretended to switch off a mobile. “Yeah, try and remember there’s a woman who might die!”

“What for?” Benedict demanded, looking at Martin. “This hospital is full of people dying, Doctor. Go and cry by their bedsides and see what good it does them.”

Martin looked away in disbelief, as Benedict looked back into the microscope.  He could feel his nose starting to drip again and sniffled. Unfortunately, this time the thick green mucus hit the table. 

 _Hells bells!  I hope to God no one saw that,_ thought a mortified Benedict as he pulled one of the disinfectant wipes Donna bought him out of his pocket and wiped it off the table top.  He saw Martin avert his eyes.  The man looked thoroughly appalled, but thankfully kept silent.

“A computer beeps, and Louise enters the lab,” said Paul, casting a wary eye in Martin and Benedict’s direction.  “The screen says ‘Search Complete’.”

“Ah!”  Benedict looked over at a pretend screen.

Louise Brealey rose from the chair she had been sitting in and pretended to enter what was supposed to be the lab and approached the table to stand beside Benedict.

“Any luck? She inquired.

“Oh, yes!” Replied Benedict.

Andrew rose from his chair and pretended to enter the lab and suddenly stopped.  “Oh. Sorry.  Didn’t know ...”

Louise broke out into a doe-eyed smile.  “Jim! Hi! Come in, come in.  Jim, this is Sherlock Holmes.”

Benedict sneezed rapidly three times in succession and blew his nose into a tissue.  The copious amount of mucus soaked the tissue, turning it into a soggy mess.  He quickly groped for another one while trying to prevent the contents from dripping onto the table; but the box on the table was empty.

“Who obviously has a bugger of a cold,” quipped Martin, staying in character as John Watson and handing him a pocket pack of tissues that he had in his messenger bag.

Everyone burst out laughing.

“Sorry. Sorry.  I’m so sorry,” said an embarrassed Benedict, as he wiped off his hands and used the hand sanitizer that Donna had bought him. “Thank you, Martin.”

“Hmm…perhaps I should write a cold for Sherlock into the script,” said Mark, more to himself.

“No!  Please don’t bother, Mark!  I’ll be fine by the time we have to film,” said Benedict.  “It’s nothing. Really.”

“How can you sit there and say it’s _nothing_ , Ben? It sure as shit sounds like something nasty to me,” declared Martin.  “You need to take care of yourself so it doesn’t turn into something much worse.”

“Oh, it’s just man flu!” insisted Sue with a dismissive wave of her hand.  “You men make too much of a simple cold for heaven’s sake!”

Louise looked at Benedict, who nodded and waved at her that he was fine.

“Please continue then, Loo,” said Paul, who didn’t look convinced that the star of the show was alright.

“And – Oh…er…sorry.”  Louise looked at Martin.

“John Watson. Hi.”

Benedict sneezed again, filling another tissue.

“I’m fine, but he’s not as you can see,” tittered Martin.

“Sorry!” sighed Benedict. “I’m so dreadfully sorry, everyone.”

“Are you sure you can continue, Ben?” asked Paul.

Benedict drank down his tea and blew his nose until he had filled three tissues with nasty-looking nasal secretions.  He wadded up the soggy tissues and tossed the ball into the waste bin that Sue had set beside him.  “I’m fine.  _Really_.  I’m perfectly able to continue,”  he insisted.

“Wait! I’ll be right back.  I want to go to the chemist down the road and buy us all some masks.  We can’t be too careful with Typhoid Sherlock around,” joked Martin.

“Sod off!” snapped Benedict, squirting some sanitizing gel into the palm of his left hand. He rubbed his hands together. “I’m minding my germs.  I’ve got tissues, hand sanitizer and these anti-germ-wipe things that Donna got me.”  

“It doesn’t appear to have done you any good, Mate,” snickered Martin.

“I’m trying to make an effort not to spread my germs to anyone else,” said Benedict defensively.  “I wouldn’t wish this motherfucking cold on my worst enemy!”

“We know you’re taking care not to infect us, Ben,” said Mark gently.  “Martin was taking the piss is all.  Weren’t you, Martin?”

Martin reached out and patted Benedict’s shoulder.  “I was kidding, Ben.  I swear. Shall we continue?”

Benedict nodded.  “Yeah.  I’m ready.”  He took a deep breath, coughed and became Sherlock Holmes effortlessly.

Paul McGuigan sniffled and rubbed his temples.  He wondered if he were coming down with whatever Benedict had as he glanced around the table.  “Alright then, let’s pick it up at…”

 

***********************************************

 

Sue Vertue had spoken to someone in reception about lowering the heat and had gone to see about the overdue lunch delivery whilst they finished running the scene.  Paul had decided to end the rehearsal right before Sherlock asks John to make a deduction from examining the trainers as Louise and Andrew were not needed for that scene.  Mark said he wanted to make one more small change in the dialog during the lunch break.

“Anyone for lunch in a cooler room?” asked Sue, pushing open the door to the room a half hour later.  She was followed by the caterer’s delivery boy; who placed a cardboard box on the same table where he had put it the past three days.

“Thank you for getting them to lower the heat,” said Martin.  "You'd think the twats were trying to roast us."

“It’s much better now,” added Louise. 

“I was getting drowsy, truth be told,” said Andrew.  “I caught myself nodding off once or twice.”

 _Jolly good for them!  I’m so happy that everyone is feeling oh-so-much cooler; whilst I’m fucking freezing.  I can barely stand to be sat here!_ Thought Benedict.

Martin stretched and got to his feet.  “I could use a break about now.”

“Brilliant timing, Sue!” said Mark.  “I just want to re-write a bit of Sherlock’s deduction of Jim. Something came to me that I thought would be hilarious.” 

“Let’s all have some lunch then and resume in an hour yes?” Paul asked Mark, who nodded his agreement and retreated to a stairwell to do his brief re-write.

“I’m going to use this time to return some phone calls,” said Sue, helping herself to one of the sandwiches, grabbing a can of diet soda and pushing open the door to the hallway.  “I’ll be back by half one,” she called out behind her. “Bon appetit!”

Sue had no luck with either her phone calls or her lunch, which she found to be inedible.

_Blimey, I knew I should have just gotten a container of yoghurt.  They can’t cock that up too badly, can they?  Let me see how Steven’s making out before I head back to the rehearsal. He should be on lunch by now.  
_

Her husband answered on the fourth ring.

_“Steve Moffat.”_

“You sound as if your mouth’s full.”

_“It is. I’m literally feasting on the most sublime properly rare roast beef and cave-aged cheddar sarnie with a creamy dill horseradish sauce on a pretzel roll of all things.  It’s just bloody brilliant that!  Who would have thought a pretzel roll would make such a tasty sarnie.”  
_

_Since when does my husband go into such lengthy descriptions of his food?  NEVER!  
_

“It sounds as if your lunch is a good sight better than mine was. I’m terribly jealous right now.”

_“What did you have?”  
_

Sue scratched her head as she considered her response. “I’m not quite sure, to be honest.  It was supposed to be Coronation chicken, but I think it might have been tofu or something else white and soft.  Whatever it was, it didn’t have a very pleasing texture. ”

_“Oh, you should see the Coronation chicken we have here today!  It’s just lovely! It has nice moist chunks of chicken breast, different coloured grapes and pecans in it. I really had a tough choice between that and the roast beef.”  
_

“Jolly good for you! Go ahead and rub it in, why don’t you? Andrew Scott has come to refer to our caterer’s roast beef as mystery meat.”

_“I wish you weren’t so far, Sue; you could have hopped the tube and come around for a bite.  You’d really fancy the soups – we’ve got a roasted red pepper and smoked Gouda bisque and chicken with wild rice and fresh vegetables.  I had a cup of the chicken and it wasn’t at all like that miserable excuse for chicken vegetable soup we had catered in yesterday at RADA.”  
_

“Bloody hell, Steven!  Since when do you take such an interest in what the caterers are serving? You always ask for a tuna mayonnaise on granary bread with rocket and a black coffee.”

_“Since Mark talked me around into hiring these caterers.  Everyone is just over the moon with what they’ve been setting out all week. I’ve heard nothing but rave reviews from everyone.  To think I used that rubbish caterer ever since I became show runner!”_

“That’s because their price was right and they had been location catering _Dr. Who_ for years, which is why I started using them for my shows. No one’s ever made a complaint that I heard about until this week.”

_“Well, that’s not entirely true. You see there have been lots of complaints. The best decision I ever made was to sack them.”_

“Why didn’t you sack them sooner then?”

_“To be frank, I couldn’t be bothered making a change.  I just felt it was easier not to muck with things.  I was too excited about putting the show together, and food didn’t seem that important.  How wrong I was!”_

“Bloody hell, Steven!  That’s the kind of thing you delegate to the producer!”

_“Well, luckily Mark sorted it out for me – even though they are a bit more expensive, the food has been a rousing success.”_

“I wish I had more fat in the budget or I’d sack them and hire yours.”

_“So what’s stopping you?”  
_

“Your new caterers are too pricey for the _Sherlock_ budget.”

_“Oh.  You do make a valid point. You can’t go over budget.”  
_

“Well, I could; but I’d really have to justify it.  Andrew did mention he thought what he ate yesterday was off as he felt sick.”

_“One of the cast getting food poisoning is sufficient justification to make a change. I’m sure accounting can come up with the money.”  
_

“I’ll consider it.  Let me see how they do today.  I know Mark’s been hinting at sacking them and hiring your new caterers ever since we experienced the first major cock-up.”

_“I really hate that we have to head up to Cardiff next week. I’m so spoilt by this food.  They had cranberry pistachio scones yesterday for tea – who would have thought that would be any good; but it was a tasty combination.”  
_

“The caterers we use in Cardiff are better than the ones we are using here for _Sherlock_.”

_“True. We never had a problem with caterers until recently.  I wonder what went wrong.  They catered the Dr. Who London location shoots for years with no major problems...the problems seem to have started recently.”  
_

“I just found out that the original owners sold the business, and the new ones try and cut corners where they shouldn’t.  The food and the staff is not the same.”

_“Was the sarnie really that bad?”  
_

“Yes.  I’m thinking it may have been spoilt. Yesterday, Mark swore his prawn mayonnaise was spoilt and tossed it.”

_“I hope you didn’t eat it.”  
_

“No.  I binned it and just drank the soda.  I’m famished though.”

_“How’s the rehearsal going? I wish I were there to see it.”_

“Mark’s doing another re-write of Sherlock’s dialog. Benedict seems to be down with a nice case of man flu, but he’s doing his best to soldier on, and Martin is complaining about everything - the overheated room, the food! He’s tough, but he’s still the best choice for Watson.  I love watching him and Ben playing off each other.”

_“There’s some brilliant chemistry at work there, Sue.”_

“How’s filming going?”

_“Fairly smoothly.  We should be done before it turns completely dark.  If you finish up early, why not come over and have a watch and then we can go home together.”_

“Alright.  I’ll keep that in mind.”

_“We’ve got a brilliant stunt planned that you may fancy seeing. Danny is a genius when it comes to setting off explosives.”_

“I’ll keep that in mind then.”

_“Mark’s coming so you can share a cab. I’ve got to go.”_

“Your lunch break is up already then?”

_“No!  They’re serving the puddings now.  I’m going to get myself some of the warm pear and ginger crumble with custard sauce before it runs out. The crew always goes right for the crumble of the day.”_

“If I’m lucky, there may be some biscuits left in the tin Mark brought in. Enjoy, Love.  I’ll ring you when we’re done.”

 _“Cheers!”_ And with that her husband abruptly rang off. 

_It’s not bloody fair!  He’s eating gourmet catering, and I’m hoping to make a meal on biscuits and coffee. Not to mention a grumpy cast to contend with. Hopefully, the rest of the food was acceptable. I don’t think I can take any more of Martin’s bitching.  I don’t know how Amanda Abbington has lived with him all these years, bless her. Hopefully, he’s not like that at home._

Sue sighed and walked down the hallway towards the rehearsal room filled with dread.  She had only been gone thirty minutes.  As she approached the door, Sue noticed a pizza delivery boy carrying two pizza boxes.  He was looking around as if he were lost. The tantalizing smell made her mouth water.  

“Can I help you?” Sue inquired with a smile.

“I’m looking for Rehearsal Room B.”

_We’re in Rehearsal Room B.  There must be a mistake.  Whoever took the order wrote down the wrong room._

Sue looked confused.  “It’s right through there; but I didn’t order any pizzas.  We already had our lunch delivered.  Are you sure you want Room B?”

The boy nodded and indicated the bill that was taped to the top boxes’ cover with his chin.  “It says right on the bill to deliver these to a Mr. Freeman at RADA Studios in Rehearsal Room B.”

_Mr. Freeman?  That’s Martin!  Martin ordered pizzas?  I could swear he had taken one of the grilled vegetable wraps.  What’s going on?_

“Come with me then, and we’ll get to the bottom of this,” said Sue, pushing open the door to the rehearsal room.

“Ah!  A proper lunch is now served!” announced Martin, getting to his feet and approaching the delivery boy.  He took some bills out of his front jeans pocket and gave them to the boy as he accepted the boxes.  “Please keep the change, Mate.”

“Thank you!  Cheers!” said the boy as he left the room with a spring in his step.

"You may all feel free to eat, everyone!" said Martin cheerfully.  "There's no chance of getting ptomaine from this food!"

Sue sighed heavily.  _Martin's been at it again, bless him._

“The food was inedible,” explained Paul as Sue looked pointedly at him.  “Go have a look for yourself.”

“They managed to cock it up again,” added Louise.  “Worse than the last time I was here.”

“What was wrong this time?” retorted Sue, looking at the barely-touched platters.   _Shit, I just sounded so confrontational then. Mum would be appalled at my behaviour._

Martin placed the pizza boxes on the table, as Louise covered the caterer’s platters and pushed them aside.  Everyone took their places at the table and began to help themselves to slices of hot, cheesy pizza.

“This fucking food was once again, a piss-poor substitute for a proper lunch!” Martin shot back testily, as he indicated the platters. “Your caterer is an absolute wanker, who is taking advantage of you and the cunt deserves to be sacked immediately, if not sooner! Why the cows in the pasture next to my house in Hertfordshire eat better than this sorry excuse for food.  This food is absolute shit with a capital 'S', Sue.  It's spoilt, unappetizing to look at and tastes like...”

_Shit.  He's going to say shit._

"...shit.  I don't eat shit, Sue; and neither should anyone else here.  We are here to do a job, and we deserve to have appetizing, fresh, properly-prepared food that isn't going to make us ill.  And it needs to be pleasing to our fucking palates as well.  Not this shit they send over, which isn't what you've ordered half the motherfucking time.  Today was an abomination - it was an insult to your intelligence.  As Loo just point out, it was the worse batch of food - if you can call it that - sent over by these cocksuckers."

_Remain calm, Sue.  He's not wrong.  You know he's not...but the budget won't allow me to hire Steve's posh caterers._

“So, you decided to send out for pizza?”

“Yes, I sure as fuck sent out for these pizzas.  We have to eat something nutritious that won’t kill us as a bonus.”

“Mmmm…this pizza is a vast improvement over my sandwich!” said Paul. 

“It’s yummy,” said Louise.

“Are you a food critic?” Benedict teased her.

“Hell, no! Why do you ask?” Louise giggled.

“Because Donna’s a food critic and I delight in teasing her whenever she says that.”

“What does she say?”

“That yummy is the highest praise one can get from a food critic.”

Sue lifted the plastic covers and inspected the platters.  “What exactly was wrong?  I intend to ring them up and tell them to come and collect this food; however, I need to know the details so I can let them know why I’m going to dispute the payment on my credit card.”

“What’s wrong?” asked Mark, coming into the room.  “From the looks of things, I take it that lunch wasn’t a rousing success.”

“Everything was wrong today,” replied Louise.  “Stale bread, soggy wraps, half-rotting produce. Ewww!” she shuddered.

Martin walked over to stand in between Mark and Sue.  They could see that he was already primed with a response. 

“The arseholes cocked it up on a grand scale today.  All this time I thought you could only find green ham in a Dr. Seuss book; but those right bastards proved me wrong.  I’m going to have to go home and tell my son that there really is such a thing – Paul open up your wrap so Mark and Sue can have a look – yes, there it is on the right.  Behold! That fucking ham is green as grass.  Ham should be pink, not green, yes?  That motherfucking ham is spoilt. I dare you to taste it if you don’t believe me.”

“Christ!” muttered Sue.

“I believe you,” said Mark turning his nose up in distaste.

Martin was just warming up. “Ben’s soup qualifies as washing up water.  The wankers didn’t even bother to skim off the fat for fucks sake!”

“The vegetables in the soup have a baby-food-like consistency,” Benedict added with a grimace. “And there isn’t a shred of chicken in it that I could find.”

“That does look nasty,” agreed Sue, peering into the soup container.

“I’m rather doubtful that it’s soup at all,” declared Mark. “Martin, you may have a point about the washing up water.”

“Now, for the piece de resistance, allow me to show you my veggie wrap,” said Martin, unrolling the whole wheat wrap he had set aside on a paper plate.  “What do you see?”

Sue and Mark leaned over to carefully inspect the contents of the wrap. 

“Take your time, there’s a lot to take in.”

Mark shrugged.  “Well, I see red peppers…”

“Those peppers are FUZZY, Mate!  Those motherfucking peppers have actual fuzz on them for fucks sake!” shouted Martin. 

“He’s right,” whispered Sue.  “Those peppers have seen better days.”

“As you were, Mark,” prodded Martin.

“…I see spinach leaves…”

“Mushy, wilted, past-their-prime, spinach leaves,” corrected Martin.

Mark looked at Martin.  “Shall I continue then or would you prefer to?”

“I want you to.  We’re about to get to the best part.”

“Well, those look like sliced tomatoes – albeit they don’t look as if they’ve been ripened…grilled slices of courgette and aubergine…”

Sue noted that Martin looked ready to chime in.  _I need to beat him to his next snarky comment._

“The tomatoes haven’t been given time to properly ripen and the courgette and aubergine slices are burnt to a crisp.  I also see what appears to be sliced chicken, which looks to be on the dry side,” finished Sue.  “Well done me!  I feel like I just did one of Sherlock’s deductions!” She laughed nervously, but no one else laughed with her.

Benedict sneezed and coughed violently into a tissue.  Mark regarded him with a raised eyebrow.  “I suppose Sue could fill in for you, should you decide you can’t carry on.  She did a brilliant job at deducing the wrap filling.”

“Piss off!” rasped a laughing Benedict.  “I don’t think Sue fancies having to dye her hair.”

Everyone laughed along with Benedict at Mark’s attempt to make light of the situation. 

Martin, however, was not to be distracted from his mission.

“What was the last item you mentioned, Sue?” he asked with a cheeky smile.

Sue looked confused.  “I said it appeared to be slices of chicken…”

Martin held up a hand to silence her.  “Which is also known as meat - which as you all bloody well know - I don’t fancy consuming,” said Martin.  “Since when does chicken qualify as a fucking vegetable?  There was supposed to be tofu in the veggie wraps, yet as I have brilliantly illustrated, there is none to be found.  I wonder what in the devil  became of it?”

Sue sighed.  “I can answer that: It wound up in what was supposed to be the Coronation chicken.”

“I was wondering what the protein was in the Coronation chicken,” interjected Louise.  “I knew it wasn’t chicken straight off.  They were also too generous with the curry. My mouth is still burning.”

“I’m so pleased that I thought to bring my own food,” smirked Andrew.  “None of this looks appetizing.  Those carrot curls are dried out!”

Sue sighed deeply and looked at Mark, who shrugged and shook his head in disgust. 

_I know what Mark’s thinking.  This is his golden opportunity to push his posh caterers; but I bloody well can’t afford them!   Maybe we should just order in lunch from Pret a Manger or Paul’s tomorrow._

“Now, Ben here was very lucky even though he doesn’t realize it,” continued Martin.  “His lack-luster chicken soup tasted awful, which was a good thing as he’s lost his sense of taste because his nose is all bunged up.  His wrap already included a toothpick, so he didn’t have to go search for one.”

Benedict held up a toothpick for Sue and Mark to see.  “It was completely buried in the wrap, and didn’t have one of those colourful plastic frills on the end; so I might see it.  This wasn’t visible at all. I could have chipped a tooth or worse if I had bitten down hard.”

“And dental work can be very pricey,” Martin reminded them.  "Unless you fancy writing a scene where Sherlock chips a tooth on one of Mrs. Hudson's biscuits."

“Caterers often use toothpicks to hold the wraps together,” retorted Sue.

“Bollocks! Look at the others – there are no toothpicks holding the shit together.  The fucking wrappers do the job.  That was just the wankers being bloody careless!”

 _I need to stop arguing with him and admit that he’s not wrong._ “I’m sorry everyone,” said Sue, clearly embarrassed.  “Martin, I’ll reimburse you for the pizzas.”

“Yes, you bloody well will; and I’m putting you on notice that I’m going to do this every fucking time you present us with the shit from this particular cocksucker of a sorry excuse for a caterer.  I won't eat their food, nor should anyone else working on this show have to be subjected to such unmitigated crap.  I don't know about anyone else here, but my contract specifically states that proper catered meals will be provided during read-troughs, rehearsals and filming.  So far, these meals are anything but proper - they  have proven to be bovine fodder - no, wait a minute - I wouldn't feed this shit to cows.  It deserves to be binned.”

 _The contracts didn't state that the catering had to be good,_ thought Sue.  _What do they want from me?  They want decent food that they can actually eat._

“I’m afraid I have to side with Martin on this issue,” said Benedict, stifling a cough.

“As do I,” added Louise.  "This isn't proper catering by any stretch of the imagination."

“Count me in,” chimed in Andrew.

“I’m sure with a little shopping around you can find a better caterer for our London location shoots and rehearsals for a fair price,” interjected Paul.  “It’s not as if you’re pressed for time, Sue.  We head up to Cardiff next week.”

“So that gives me a whole week to find someone from Cardiff,” mumbled Sue.  “Jolly good.  I’ve got my work cut out for me then.”

“Feel free to take your time.  However, until a proper caterer is found, we’ll be sending out for food and billing you,” said Martin with finality.  “This isn’t negotiable.”

“Your point has been made and taken,” said Sue in a defeated voice. _If only there was a way that I could afford Steven’s caterer._

“Okay now that lunch has been sorted, let’s get back to work then,” suggested Paul.  “We’re running a bit behind.”

The rehearsal was done earlier than expected, enabling Sue Vertue and Mark Gatiss to take a cab over to the _Dr. Who_ location shoot in Southwark.  After gaining admittance to the closed off area, they hung around to watch the stunt work being done.  There were two scenes being shot.  The second one was going to culminate with special effects set off by explosives.   Everything went off as planned with the explosives; but the director wanted to do another take of a short scene leading into it with David Tennant.  Being it was starting to get late, Mark and Sue decided to head home.

“Hmmm…getting a cab is going to be a trick of the first order given this deserted area,” said Mark, looking around.

“As soon as the weather turns colder, cabs also become scarcer,” said Sue.

“No one wants to walk around in the cold,” added Mark.

“Shit.  I guess that means taking a bus or the tube,” said Sue consulting her mobile for the transit reports.  “I hate taking the bus.  It takes an age, and I’ll have to make three changes.  The tube isn’t as bad as long as I can get to the Central Line.”

“I’ve got an idea.  Why don’t we be brave little soldiers and walk across the Millennium Bridge and through Paternoster Square to St. Paul’s station?  There’s not much wind to speak of; so it shouldn’t be too terrible of a walk.  We may even have better luck trying to hail a cab on that side of the river. What do you think?”

“I think we’re daft.  However, the Central Line is showing good service; so let’s give it a go,” Said Sue Vertue, tying her hood securely and wrapping her scarf around the lower half of her face.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. The Sherlock cast was a real challenge for me to write, as there were so many more characters with different personalities to write for. These chapters have taken much longer than normal to write. 
> 
> 2\. The rehearsal process is completely fictional as I have no idea what really goes on. In this universe, Sue Vertue has a smaller budget from the BBC than Dr. Who that she has to work with.
> 
> 3\. I used two sources of reference material for this chapter, which are credited in #'s 4 & 5 below.
> 
> 4\. The actual dialog was taken from the BBC Script, which has been uploaded: http://downloads.bbc.co.uk/writersroom/scripts/Sherlock-The-Great-Game-final-shooting-script.pdf
> 
> 5\. Additional dialog and some of the anecdotes were taken from the episode transcripts that the lovely Ariane DeVere has painstakingly put together. They can be found on her Dreamwidth blog site: arianedevere.dreamwidth.org. Ariane's blog contains transcripts of all the episodes, including the DVD Audio Commentaries, which I used for some of the dialog and anecdotes, and all the DVD special features transcripts. 
> 
> 6\. I couldn't find mention made of where the Sherlock rehearsals actually took place; so I did some research and found that RADA had studios to rent out for these types of things. Therefore, this story will use RADA as the rehearsal location for Sherlock. 
> 
> 7\. Not sure if I'll be posting next week or not due to it being Labor Day weekend.


	171. Chapter 171

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Benedict receives a house call from Steve. Mark and Sue go in search of dinner and receive a sales pitch from the Carldonn team. Donna and Carly Skype call with Benedict and Steve.
> 
> Note: I’ll be using *************** for things happening at the same time

 

 

Benedict Cumberbatch emerged from the Hampstead tube station with hopes of a hot bath and snuggling down in his nice warm bed with some DVDs, a bowl of chicken soup and a cup of hot tea.  However, as he got off the station lift, his mobile alerted him that he had a text message.  It was from Carly’s husband, Steve.  Apparently, Steve was texting him to see if they could meet up for dinner as he was going to be in Hampstead.

_I wonder what in the hell he’s doing in Hampstead?  His supervising doctor’s office is near the hospital in Euston; so I haven’t a clue why he’d come up to this area. Perhaps Donna put him up to it. I know she’s suspicious.  It probably would be in my best interests to have Steve look me over after dinner._

Benedict quickly typed back a text:

 

**Fine. Let’s meet at my flat for a drink; and afterwards we can go out for a curry. There’s a brilliant place just a short walk from my flat. I’m going to stop at the chemist first, and should be there in fifteen or twenty minutes.  I’ll make us a booking.  B**

A couple of minutes later, a text appeared from Steve as Benedict was browsing the cough lozenges:

**I thought you weren’t drinking while shooting Sherlock.  Have you already forsaken your healthy routine?  S**

**I’ve been living a very healthy life.  I walk, swim, take a spoonful of raw honey daily and do my Bikram yoga religiously.  I’m eating well and getting to bed early.  B**

**I notice you neglected to mention that you’re abstaining from booze as part of this healthy lifestyle.  S**

**Give me a fucking break!  It’s been a frightfully busy week. I’m off the remainder of the week; and I would really fancy an adult beverage to start my long weekend.  B**

**I don’t want to be the one responsible for you breaking your healthy diet.  Do you have a juicer?  I can make us some healthy vegetable smoothies.  I’ll just stop at the greengrocer and pick up some kale and spinach.  Do you have any fresh ginger?  S**

**Piss off and stop being such a cock!  I start shooting Monday.  Until then, I’m imbibing alcohol!  B**

**Excellent.  You can make me a dirty martini – Doctor’s orders.  See you soon.  S**

 

Benedict picked up a few items and headed to his flat.  The short walk seemed endless as the wind picked up and icy pellets began to mix with a cold, light rain.  He turned up the collar of his coat and silently berated himself for leaving his brolly at home.  As Benedict walked past the health club he belonged to, he felt a pang of guilt for missing his evening swim; but he just wasn’t feeling up to it.

_I feel like shit and am missing Donna terribly. What I wouldn’t give to be wrapped up warm in her arms in bed whilst watching the telly. I think the best remedy for my blues is a stiff drink, a nice meal and good company tonight.  I’m really glad that Steve thought to extend the invite – whatever his hidden agenda may be.  Oh, Benedict, you need to shake off Sherlock.  You’re so fucking suspicious of everyone’s motives lately.  Even Mum told you to sod off this morning when you called her in Greece to say hello.  I was acting like a first-class dick, and Dad made sure I knew it in his follow up text. Mum was only concerned for my health when she suggested I might ring up Steve to check me out; and showed my appreciation for her concern by lashing out at her like the impatient arse-hole that I am._

As Benedict crossed the road to Hearthstone Terrace, the light rain began to turn to a steady sleet.  He silently cursed all the way to his house and was happy when it finally came into view. There was his downstairs neighbor, Bob, standing outside and locking the door to their house.  Benedict noted that Bob was heading out to work a little earlier than normal. 

“Hold up, Bob!” Benedict shouted as he trotted across the pavement and up the stairs leading to their front door.  "MOTHERFUCKER!" swore Benedict as he almost slipped on the first step.  

Bob ceased locking the door and pushed it open whilst he stood aside, allowing Benedict to enter the house.  He opened his umbrella and shivered as a gust of wind hit his back.  Benedict stood coughing in the entry as he shivered.  

"Watch that first step, it's a bugger with the sleet starting to accumulate.  I'll go out later on and toss some ice melt on it," said Benedict as he dissolved into a coughing fit.

“Thanks.  I'd do it, but I'm going to be late for work. It has all the makings of being a real bitch out here tonight, Mate.  Make sure to wrap up warm if you go back out, said Bob, looking down at the now sleet-covered steps.

“Oh, I will.”

“You sound bloody awful, Ben, if you don’t mind my saying so.”

“No, I’m well aware as to how bad I sound. This fucking cold is hanging on longer than I would like. I’m going to ask my future brother-in-law to look me over.  He’s a doctor.”

“Steve.”

“Yes, that’s him.  I don’t recall you ever meeting him.”

“He was here one time with Donna and her sister.  Nice chap. I just let him in your flat about fifteen minutes ago.  He came around saying that you asked him to meet you here.  Being you weren’t back yet; I used your extra key and let him in to wait so the poor sod wouldn’t have to sit out here in the cold and rain.  I hope that was alright.”

“Of course it was. Thank you.”

“I’m glad to see that some doctors still make house calls,” laughed Bob.

“It’s not supposed to be a house call.  The plan is to have a drink here and then go to the Paradise for dinner.”

“You might be better served having takeaway from the Paradise and staying inside. It wouldn’t hurt to ask Steve to check that cough.  Anyway, I’d better be off.  There’s trading to be done, and I need to stop for some food on the way. Cheers.”

“Have a nice day,” joked Benedict as Bob headed off to his night job.

 

*************************************************

 

“Brrrrr!  That walk across the bridge was a lot colder and a lot longer walking than I thought it would be!” exclaimed Sue Vertue as she and Mark Gatiss headed towards Paternoster Square.  “I’ve never been so happy to have the shelter of buildings.  I’m half frozen.”

Mark nodded in agreement and shivered in spite of his heavy parka. “I didn’t expect the wind to pick up like it did once we were walking over the water!  Had I known I would have asked one of the runners to order us a cab.” Mark pulled his wool cap down over his ears as he moved the scarf away from his mouth.  “Fancy a hot drink?  We can duck into one of the cafes here.”

“That’s a genius idea!  I could use a rest and some time to come up with an idea for dinner tonight.  The boys were running late for school this morning; so I left in a rush without taking something out of the freezer.”

“Mmm…I’m in the same boat,” sighed Mark.  “It’s my turn to cook tonight, and I don’t feel up to doing something complicated.  Perhaps I’ll just broil some chops and make a salad. Ian’s learnt not to expect much from my cooking, so he won’t be disappointed,” he chuckled.

“Jolly good for you. I’ve got the makings for a salad; but my chops are frozen – literally and figuratively!” Sue giggled. “I suppose I could cobble up a salad for a main; but I’ve got two perpetually hungry boys so I doubt that would satisfy them.  Steven won’t be thrilled either.”

“Why not?”

“Because his mum raised him to expect a hot, home-cooked meal every night, bless her.  The man still thinks we’re living back in the nine-teen fifties when women stayed home full-time and tended to the home fires.”

“I really hope you were taking the piss and don’t feel obligated to cook a big meal every night, Sue.  You’re a hard-working woman with an important and busy career. My friend needs to bugger off and cut you some slack.”

“Steven is a firm believer that I can do it all; but I’ve managed to stand my ground whenever I’m feeling stressed about the cooking.  I’ve told him many times that he’ll eat whatever it is he finds on the table.  I could call the sitter and ask her to take out something, but there won’t be enough time for anything to thaw properly.”

“You’ve still got another option.”

“Divorce is off the table.  I still love the dolt in spite of his old-fashioned, archaic beliefs about male and female relationship roles.”

“I was referring to the always popular takeaway option.”

“I do pass a Chinese and Indian takeaway on my way home; but we already had dinner from both this week,” declared Sue with a smirk.  “I suppose the boys might fancy pizza - Louis and Josh are always up for pizza.”

“I’m rather knackered myself,” said Mark as they turned onto Avemaria Lane and entered Paternoster Square.  He couldn’t tell if the OPEN sign was still showing on the door of Carldonn Creative Catering and took out his mobile. He hit the speed dial and waited.  “Excuse me for a moment whilst I make a quick call.  If they’re still open, then we’re both in luck.”

_If who is open?  What trick does Mr. Gatiss have up his sleeve? If I didn’t know better, I’d think this was some sort of set up._

It had started to rain lightly with little ice pellets mixing in. Mark and Sue both pulled up their hoods and tied them tightly underneath their chins.

  _I doubt Steven will be able to finish the scene if this keeps up. It’s a good thing they got the explosion done,_ thought Sue.  She listened to Mark’s conversation as she trudged along beside him trying to keep up with his long strides.

“Good afternoon Emily, Mark Gatiss speaking - I just remembered that Donna and Carly were in the States and was wondering if by some chance you’re still open and have any food left for purchase.”

Sue looked up at Mark with a grimace.  _I wonder where this place is.  I hope we’re not going to take too much of a detour.  Wait! I see an M &S Simply Food!  We can duck in there, grab a hot coffee and surely find something for dinner! Problem solved._

“Brilliant. I’m bringing a friend of mine around.  We’re both in need of dinner, and I’m hoping to impress her.”

_Oh, Mark, please don’t.  M &S is all I need to impress me.  It’s right here for fucks sake!  Let’s just duck in there rather than go traipsing around Paternoster Square in this weather! _

“Look!  We’re in luck – there’s an M&S,” said Sue, nudging Mark and pointing to the large store.  “They’ll definitely have all the makings we need to put together a proper dinner.  We won’t have to go anywhere else. Problem sorted!”

Mark raised an index finger and wagged it at her. “Oh, but we can do so much better than that, Sue!  All I ask is for your indulgence.”

“How much do I have to indulge you?  I don’t fancy traipsing all over Paternoster Square in this bloody awful weather.  This rain is starting to turn to sleet,” observed Sue with a grimace.

“I’d like for us to pop into my favourite sarnie shop; which is right across the square and get some of their delectable sandwiches for dinner. You can buy some for dinner as well.”

“Sandwiches?” blurted out Sue. “I’ve got to come up with something better than that.  I can’t just go home and put bloody sandwiches on the dinner table.”

“Oh, but these are not just any sandwiches, Sue,” Mark admonished her as he pocketed his mobile.  “These are exceptional sandwiches using artisan breads and creative combinations of meats and cheeses that are topped off with fresh veggies and unusual spreads.  Come have a look, and if you’re not impressed then you can always order takeaway pizza once you get home.”

Sue could see that Mark was not to be dissuaded.  _I guess it couldn’t hurt to have a look.  I can always go back to M &S if I don’t care for what they have._

“Do they sell hot tea?  I’m dying for a cuppa.”

“That they do.  They usually have a few different kinds. Come on.  If we’re in luck, there might be some brownie bites left for pudding.  It’s too bad the owners are out of town, as I would have liked for you to meet them.” 

_Wait a minute.  He mentioned one of the owner’s names is Donna.  Benedict’s fiancée’s name is Donna and she and her sister are out of town seeing to their sick granddad.  I remember Ben saying that the sisters are also partners in a catering business... it might have been the day Mum invited him around to tea when we had to enforce his NDA…or it could have been another time._

_I’m such a dolt!  They’re the posh caterers that Steven just hired to do the location catering for Dr. Who – the ones he’s been raving about. Now that I think about it, he did mention one of the owner’s was Benedict’s bird. This reeks of a proper set up.  I guess it wouldn’t hurt to look.  God knows there was nothing left at the Dr. Who shoot for me to see or taste – the cast and crew ate every bloody crumb!_

 

******************************************************

 

Emily Peacock stood at the large picture window of Carldonn Creative Catering gazing out at the nearly deserted Paternoster Square.  It was late afternoon, and most people were either still at work in the surrounding offices or staying at home.  The unusually cold winter weather that had gripped London had certainly kept the tourists at bay.  In thirty minutes Emily had counted eight hearty souls who had decided to brave the wind and cold.  The sound of the swinging door leading to the back opened to reveal her best friend, Heather MacPherson.

"What's it doing out there?" Heather asked.

"It looks like the rain's changing over to sleet," replied Emily. 

“Maria said to tell you that all the prep work for tomorrow is done, and she’s thankful that the _Dr. Who_ crew only needs breakfast and lunch.”

“So, does that mean it’s time we closed up shop?” Emily asked hopefully.  “Hardly anyone is out and about today.  I’m bored to tears and could use the time for studying.”

“Maria wanted to know if there were a lot of leftovers from lunch.”

Emily nodded.  “I’d say there are.”

“Oh, I hope there are some of the roast beef and cheddar sarnies left!  We can bring them home for supper, and if there’s any of that Coronation chicken left, we can have it for lunch tomorrow on these two croissants,” said Heather as she quickly consulted the display case.  “I think I’m going to put those aside.”

“There are enough leftovers for all of us to take home food – or better still, we can always add it to the daily food bank donation.”

“My mum always says that charity begins at home.”

“Then your mum doesn’t know what in the hell she’s talking about in this case!” snapped Maria from the doorway.  “That’s an awful thing to say Heather MacPherson when there are so many who are not as fortunate as you who are going without food!  You should be ashamed of yourself.”

“Heather!  That was an awful thing to say!” blurted a horrified Emily.

“I really didn’t mean to sound like a greedy sow,” said Heather in a small voice. 

“Well you did,” retorted Maria.

“I was just thinking it would save us time and money not having to buy stuff,” said Heather.  “Besides the food they serve in the Uni canteen sucks.”

“Heather, we’re on the University’s meal plan, which isn’t all that terrible,” said Emily, rolling her eyes.  “We won’t go hungry.”

“It’s high time you learnt some proper manners, Heather.  You can’t go around saying whatever pops into your fool head,” scolded Maria.  “Words do have consequences as we’ve all told you countless times before.  You need to think about what you’re going to say before you open your mouth.”

“You should hold a class on not blurting out things, Maria,” giggled Emily.  “My Uncle Ben could also be one of your pupils.”

“I can personally vouch for Benedict just coming out with all sorts of things that he shouldn’t have said,” declared Heather.  “Could you imagine if he were ever to become really famous?”

“I’d feel very sorry for his publicist,” laughed Maria.

“Poor Karon has such a tough time with him as is,” said Emily. “Remember the time he poked fun at the Prime Minister’s taste in clothing?”

“It was an ugly suit,” confirmed Heather. 

“But it wasn’t for him to say, Heather,” Maria reminded her. “Benedict’s a sweet chap, and his heart is always in the right place; but he needs to mind his mouth.”

“What about me?” demanded Heather, with hands on hips. “My heart is…”

“Yours is self-serving at best,” snorted Maria.

“Not all the time,” protested Emily.  “Otherwise I’d never be friends with the likes of her.”

“Thank you – I think,” retorted Heather with a frown.

“Try to kerb what you’re going to say, Heather,” suggested Maria.  “Like with the customers – think if what you want to say is going to offend anyone first or better still – if you would fancy someone saying it to you.”

“If it was something to help me – like making a smarter food choice if I were fat…”

“No, no, NO!” exclaimed Maria.  “That’s just what we don’t want you to do.  Let our customers order whatever they fancy.  This is one of the reasons why you haven’t been sent to supervise the location catering.  God only knows what you might say to one of the cast or crew members.”

“I _really_ wanted to see David Tennant, too!” whined Heather.  “Emmy got to go twice and you even went to see him in person.  Today you sent Karl when it should have been my turn. Tomorrow’s the last day they’re going to be filming in London.  Can’t I go and supervise? I promise to be…um…better contained.”

“I’ll sleep on it,” said Maria dismissively. “They only expect to have a small crew tomorrow of twenty-five.  That would be less people for you to insult.”

“I’m really sorry, Maria.  I’ll try harder,” said Heather.  “Please don’t tell Donna and Carly what I said to that overweight couple who came in yesterday and asked for extra clotted cream and butter with their scones.”

“Fat, fat, the water rat is not what one says to customers, Heather! That wasn’t one of your finer moments,” said Emily.  “It was cringe-worthy at best.”

“I was just joking around with them. They didn’t look cross with me.”

“That’s because they were stunned into silence:  Do you really need all that extra clotted cream AND butter?”

“You saw their faces, Emmy.  Did they look peeved?”

“It was hard to tell from their retreating backs, but I’d venture to say that was the prime reason why they walked out without waiting for their order,” said Emily.

“Oh, God!  I didn’t mean any harm.  It was in their best interests. Please promise me you won’t tell Donna and Carly!” Heather pleaded with Maria. 

“Sorry, but they already know, Love.  I had to tell them when I reported in to them last night.  They left me in charge and trust me with minding their business.  This _Dr. Who_ job is very important to them.  Who knows – it could even lead to better things!”

Heather looked worried.  “What did they say?”

“Well, Donna was in favor of sacking you; but Carly talked her around.”

“That’s odd.  Carly’s always been the shouty one whenever I cock things up,” said Heather.

“In spite of your big mouth, Carly’s probably your biggest supporter, Missy.  She approves of the way you do the books, and you’ve had some brilliant ideas that saved them money. The problem with Donna is that she’s  sometimes guilty of opening her mouth and coming out with inappropriate things like her Ben does, but I know that she’s actually grown quite fond of you deep down inside.”

Heather was quiet for once as she looked longingly at the apple blackberry pie in the display case.   

_Donna sure as fuck has a funny way of showing it then. I’m glad I never pursued Benedict romantically - that would have been a mistake of epic proportions.  She’s welcome to him. Who am I kidding?  It was so obvious that he never did fancy me in the first place.  Benedict tolerated me because of Emmy in the past and now he tolerates me because of Donna._

“As far as supervising the location shoot tomorrow, I’ll have to think on it. I’ll text you as soon as I’ve come to my decision,” said Maria.

“Thank you, Maria!  I promise that I won’t disappoint you!” cried Heather. “I’ll do Carldonn proud!”

“Shall I put up the CLOSED sign, Maria?” asked Emily. “My work is done for the day, and I’m soooo knackered from all this standing around waiting for customers who aren’t coming.”

Maria went behind the counter and took a quick inventory of the food before glancing up at the cupcake clock.  “Let’s wait until four and then close up shop.  We still might be able to sell some of this yet.”

“Donna and Carly were over the moon when I emailed them about how well the _Dr. Who_ catering is going,” reported Emily. 

“They’ll be even more over the moon once they hear about my contribution,” added Heather.

“And what contribution might that be?” sputtered Maria.  “Insulting the bloody customers?”

“NO! I’m talking about getting the girl I’m dealing with at _Dr. Who_ to accept that certain things require more money.  For example, I told her that we have to charge more whenever we have to source things out of season – like fresh blackberries in the winter,” smiled Heather proudly.  “Or if we’re asked to provide something special at the last minute that’s very pricey or labour intensive to make – like the director’s gluten and dairy free birthday cake.”

“Now, that was quite the challenge! I’m sorry, Heather.  You’re right, of course.  That was a genius idea to ask for more money,” said Maria.

“We can thank David Tennant for that,” laughed Emily.

“Bless him and his love of only sustainable fish and organic produce,” added Maria.

“Anything to keep the star happy,” said Heather with a grin. 

“No request is too outlandish,” added Maria, winking at both girls.

“That could be our new motto for location catering jobs,” suggested Heather.

“I like it!” said Maria. “No request is too outlandish!”

“But it will cost you,” added Heather with a grin. 

“I hope Carly and Donna agree with our new motto,” said Emily worriedly. 

“They will once they see how much more we can charge to cater to our clients’ whims,” laughed Heather.  “Seriously, _Dr. Who_ must have a very generous food budget because they haven’t questioned anything we’ve charged.”

“Those guest stars were also picky,” added Emily.  “Take Lindsey Duncan and her love of giant prawns.”

“And we were only too happy to accommodate her and the other guest stars - for a price, of course.  Who on earth uses extra-large tiger prawns for prawn and mayonnaise? Most prawn sandwich fillings are composed of chopped up or small prawns,” snickered Maria. “I didn’t mind though – they were easier to clean and devein.”

“I wonder if it’s always going to be like this whenever we do location catering,” mused Emily.

“We won’t know until they next come back to London to film.  This week is it for the time being.  They’re going up to Cardiff to film indoors at the studio.”

“I wonder who does their catering in Cardiff?” asked Emily.

“The studio will have a canteen, and when they do location shooting I’m sure they have a caterer they use,” replied Maria.  “If you’re interested,  Donna has the filming schedule for the next location shoot in the office.”

“Which has been incorporated into one of her famous coloured-coded spreadsheets, bless her.  It’s posted on the cork board in the office,” added Heather.  “We don’t have to do another location shoot for the next three weeks.”

“Look! It’s Mark Gatiss, and it looks as if he’s headed our way,” pointed Emily, who was still staring out the window.  “I bet it’s his night to cook, and he’s coming to see what we’ve got left.”

“This is his lucky day then because we’ve got plenty,” said Heather.

“Where is he?” inquired Maria coming from around the counter.  “I don’t see him; but it’s hard to tell with everyone wrapped up warm.”

“Standing in front of M&S,” replied Emily.  “He’s wearing an olive drab parka with faux fox trim.  There’s a shorter woman standing next to him wearing a black parka.  I’m not quite sure if she’s with him or not.”

“It looks like he’s making a phone call,” observed Heather.  “I bet it’s to us.”

Maria peered over Heather’s shoulder.  “I’d better go in the back and see about the leftover soups.  Mark always fancies soup.”

The store’s landline began to ring, and they all broke into peals of laughter.

“That has to be him!” hooted Heather.

“I’ll get it,” said Emily running behind the counter to pick up the land line.  “And the caller ID says it’s him! Carldonn Creative Catering, Emily speaking.”

_“Good afternoon Emily, Mark Gatiss speaking - I just remembered that Donna and Carly were in the States and was wondering if by some chance you’re still open and had any food left for purchase.”_

“Yes to both questions,” replied Emily pleasantly.

_“Brilliant. I’m bringing a friend of mine around.  We’re both in need of dinner, and I’m hoping to impress her.”_

“We’ll be here,” said Emily as she rang off.  “I wouldn’t set my sights on those roast beef sarnies just yet, Heather.  Mark’s on his way over with a friend to buy something for dinner.”

“It’s that woman who was standing next to him.  I wonder who she is,” said Maria. 

“Wait!  Now, that they’re getting closer, I recognize the woman,” said Heather, reaching out to grab Maria’s arm. “That’s Sue Vertue.  I bet she’s the one he told Donna he was going to bring around this week!”

“Don’t you know?” asked Maria.

“Donna never said who it was that Mark wanted to bring around.”

“For all your bravado, you’re a right lousy spy, Heather,” scolded Emily.  “All that time you sit and listen in on Donna’s conversations and you fail to find this out.”

“I did ask her as soon as she rang off, but Donna gave me one of her vague answers.  Anyway, Sue Vertue is the producer of _Sherlock_ yes?”

“Yeah,” nodded Emily.  “So it seems she’s the one Mark wants to impress  with our food.”

“Was Benedict in rehearsals today for _Sherlock_?” inquired Heather.

“Yeah.  He’s been in rehearsals all week according to Donna and has complained incessantly about the rubbish catering in his emails.”

“And Sue Vertue and Mark are involved in _Sherlock_ yes?”

“Well, yeah.  They’re the producers.  Mark’s one of the co-creators and writers.”

“And where do they rehearse?”

“RADA,” replied Emily.  “Remember the day Uncle Ben left his script at home and texted me to run it over to him?”

“I was in class,” said Heather.

“I remember that. RADA’s nowhere near here,” commented Maria.

“Okay.  We know that Steve Moffat is married to Sue Vertue,” declared Heather, staring out the window as Mark stopped to tie the laces of his work boots.  “They must have been over at the _Dr. Who_ location shoot, which would explain why they’re in this area.  All they have to do is cross the bridge to get here.”

“We could text Karl and ask him to confirm your suspicions!” suggested Emily. “He’d know for sure if they were there.”

“It’s too late for that.  I’m pretty sure I’m right though. Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Maria asked Heather.

“It’s show time!” cried Heather, hugging Maria. 

“Then this is why Donna and Carly have been asking me every day if we’ve heard from Mark yes?” asked Emily.

“Where in the hell have you been, Emmy?” demanded Heather.

“Where have I been? Not here when all this was going on apparently! I wasn’t privy to that phone call Donna took from Mark.  I’ve also been on location supervising the catering.  What’s so important about this visit?”

Heather stopped to regard her best friend as if she were daft. “Opportunity is why! Bloody hell, Emmy!  Because this is the phone call Donna warned us might be coming.”

“I don’t understand why…” began Emily.

Heather rolled her eyes.  “Don’t you ever listen in on phone conversations, Emily Peacock?  Why you sit in that back office with me every day whilst Donna and Carly are in there.  We’re privy to all sorts of valuable and interesting information.  I overheard Donna talking to Mark Gatiss, and it seems the _Sherlock_ caterer is awful.”

“I knew that,” sniffed Emily.  “Donna told us that the producer of _Sherlock_ was going to stick with that awful caterer they were using for _Dr. Who_.”

“That’s right!  And according to Benedict’s emails to Donna, they are just as bad as they were for _Dr. Who_.  Donna must have figured from the phone call she got from Mark Gatiss and hearing how well Cardonn has worked out, Mark is on a mission to persuade the _Sherlock_ producer – who happens to be Sue Vertue – to switch caterers.”

“I miss out on a lot when I’m trapped in that kitchen. Bloody hell, you’re like a regular Sherlock Holmes, Heather!” laughed Maria. “I love how you worked that all out.”

“Thank you!” said Heather taking a bow.

“Don’t be so cheeky!” snapped Emily. “I, unlike you, prefer to concentrate on my work rather than eavesdrop and make guesses based on only part of what you hear.”

“What she said makes perfect sense, Love,” said Maria.

“What I just said was true, Emmy,” insisted Heather. “I was sat right there in the office when Donna took the call on Monday from Mark. Mark’s sole purpose was to let her know that the catering served at the _Sherlock_ table read was rubbish, and he wanted to bring someone around to Carldonn to impress. Now, he calls saying he wants to bring that someone around – and that person just happens to be Sue Vertue.  So isn’t it obvious that she’s the one he wants us to impress?!” exclaimed Heather excitedly. “She’s the producer, so she would be the one to make that type of decision.”

“I’m not so sure taking on another show so quickly is in our best interests,” retorted Emily.

“Of course it is, you twat!  Donna and Carly want to expand next door; but need more capital.  If they were to take on another London location catering job, that’s more money to put in the pot, which will enable us to do it!  Also, that means more money will be available come May when we graduate and want to be hired on as full time employees.”

“I also remember when Donna told us that Mark complained that the caterer they had always used for _Dr. Who_ had changed ownership, and it wasn’t a change for the better,” interjected Maria.  “So if they weren’t happy then, it makes perfect sense that they’re not happy now; and Benedict’s emails to Donna seem to support that.”

“Mark was instrumental in convincing Steve Moffat to try Carldonn from what I gather,” added Heather.  “I was there the day he came in here bemoaning that being they were planning on using the same people to cater _Sherlock,_  he wasn’t holding much hope of having decent food service.  It seems like he was right, and Sue Vertue may be in the market for a new caterer – like us!”

 “Carpe diem!” laughed Emily.

“Alright then - let’s try and impress the hell out of her, ladies!  We’ll be sure to put our best foot forward and give Ms. Vertue customer service that is unsurpassed!”  Said Maria, draping an arm around each girl’s shoulder.

“Donna and Carly will be over the moon if we can convince Sue Vertue to give us a go!” said Emily.

“We can do it!” added Heather.  “I promise not to say anything about her being pudgy either!  I’ll be on my best behaviour, Maria.  You’ll see!”

“I’ll cook her up something special from scratch if that’s what it takes to win her over!” said Maria, backing away.   “Now, off you go – we can’t have them catch sight of us watching them.”

Emily re-tied her apron and fluffed her hair.  “Please promise me that neither of you will try to do any negotiating without Donna or Carly present.  They’ll sack us all if we do something like that without their approval.”

“Not to worry,” said Heather as she opened the door and held it open for Mark Gatiss and Sue Vertue to enter the shop.  “Come in, Mark.  Blimey, it’s cold as hell out there yes?”  A gust of cold, icy wind blew into shop after them before Heather could close the door behind them.

The pair removed their hoods and visibly shivered as they unzipped their parkas and peeled off their gloves.

“Good afternoon, Ladies,” said Mark with a smile as he indicated Sue. “This is Sue Vertue, our Producer for _Sherlock_.”

“We’ve come to see if you can help us out with dinner as neither of us particular fancies cooking tonight,” laughed Sue, smoothing her disheveled blonde hair.

“You’ve come to the right place then!” smiled Heather, taking charge.  “We’ve lots of scrumptious things left.  I’m Heather MacPherson, the Chief Bookkeeper and Media Consultant.” 

 _Chief Bookkeeper? What the fuck?_ Thought Emily, side-eyeing Maria.  _She’s the only bookkeeper!_

 _When in the hell did we get a Media Consultant?_ Thought Maria.  _Bloody hell! Just because she came up with that slogan and writes the menu on the sandwich and blackboards every day doesn’t make her a bloomin’ media consultant.  Donna would be dressing her down if she were here._

Heather indicated Maria and Emily with a sweep of her hand. “This is Maria Ramirez-Carter, our Executive Chef; and this is Emily Peacock, our Chief Buyer and Human Relations Consultant.”

 _Well, Heather got the Executive Chef part right, bless her,_ thought Maria.  _Emmy looks surprised to find out she’s also acquired the title of Human Relations Consultant._

“Emily is also Benedict’s niece,” added Mark.

Sue studied Emily closely.  _I’ve seen her before…but where?_

  “…And in case you didn’t realize it, Donna is his fiancée.”

“I did recall Ben mentioning it awhile back over tea at Mum’s,” said Sue.  “Thank you for the introductions, Heather.”

“It’s cold as hell today,” said Maria. “Take off your coats and have a cuppa whilst you decide,” said Maria.  “You two look chilled to the bone.  We’ve got a lovely green tea with roasted apple bits and cinnamon that will warm you up in no time.”

“I’m hoping there might be some soup left over,” said Mark, crossing his fingers.  “I hear there was a sublime roasted red pepper soup on the menu today.”

“How did you know that Mark?” asked Emily. 

Sue frowned at Mark.  “You must have been chatting with Steven today yes?”

Mark nodded.  “Yes, and he was raving about a roast beef and cheddar sandwich on a pretzel roll.  He barely wanted to discuss what was going on at rehearsal.”

“Here they are!  We’ve got plenty of roast beef left,” said Emily, heading to the display counter.  “The bad weather kept a lot of people inside today.”

“I’ve got enough of the soup left for both of you,” confirmed Maria.  “I also just finished a corn and prawn chowder for tomorrow; but I’m sure we could spare a container or two of that.”

“That would be brilliant, Maria,” said Mark.  “Thank you.”

“I’ll definitely try them both,” said Sue.  “That way we can have a soup tasting.”

“We also have a couple of grilled chicken wraps with Emmental cheese, bacon, tomato and lettuce.  It comes on a spinach wrap with a honey mustard sauce,” said Emily. “If you don’t fancy Emmental, we can do it with another cheese.”

“We also have our famous Coronation chicken on cranberry walnut bread,” added Heather. 

“Why is it famous?” inquired an amused Sue.

“Because it has toasted pecan pieces and red grapes in addition to finely sliced celery for additional crunch,” replied Heather.  “Our secret recipe dressing has a touch of honey as well as some poppy seeds in it.  We also make our own mayonnaise in-house.”

“It’s not a secret anymore,” sighed Emily.

“Your secret is safe with us,” laughed Mark. 

Sue stared at Mark as a small smile played around her lips.  “This is your posh caterer, you bastard,” she said under her breath.  “I should have known.”

Mark whistled softly and ignored Sue’s comment as he accepted a cup of hot tea from Emily. “Thank you, Emily.”  _The food will speak for itself.  All she has to do is eat it tonight._  He took a small sip.  “Oh, this is lovely!  You must try this, Sue.”

“I was wondering why you looked familiar. You came around RADA with Ben’s script on Tuesday,” said Sue, as she accepted a cup of tea from Emily. 

Emily nodded.  “I was acting as his PA for a day,” she laughed.

“Oh!  We just made these for tomorrow; but you need to taste these, Mark,” said Maria, coming out from the back with some small round brownies and biscuits on a plate.  “These are our new cheese-cake filled brownie bites and our lemon shortbread biscuits with lemon icing – made with real lemon juice from organic lemons.”

“We use no artificial ingredients here,” boasted Heather, adjusting her blue rimmed glasses.  “Everything is also scratch made and we use organic and sustainable foods whenever possible.”

 _No we don’t always!_ Thought Emily.  _Why in the heck did she say that?_

 _That will cost twice as much as the conventional ones_ , thought an amused Sue as she bit into one of the shortbread cookies.  _Oh my God!  These are to die for!_

“Mmmm…mmmm…Can you spare some of these to take away for tonight?” inquired Sue.

“Of course!” smiled Maria.  “I’ll pack some of each up for you.”

Mark removed the plaid cap that was underneath his hood and shook it out.  “Forgive my hat hair, what’s left of it!” he joked, gazing at his disheveled reflection in the mirror.

“Holy shit, Mark!  What in the heck did you do to your lovely ginger hair?” asked a horrified Heather, clapping her hands to her cheeks.

“Oh, I had to dye it black to match Benedict’s.”

“Why is that?”

Mark and Sue exchanged looks and Sue shrugged and nodded that it was okay with her to tell the girl. 

“That’s because I’m playing his brother, Mycroft,” replied Mark.  “That little tidbit is top secret by the way.”

“Well, it looks bloody awful!  I don’t know why Sherlock and Mycroft can’t be gingers.  Benedict has the most gorgeous ginger…”

“Auburn, Heather,” corrected Emily.  “Don’t let Uncle Ben hear you call him a ginger!”

“Benedict really hates the dark colour,” continued Heather.  “I don’t fancy it on him either or the long curly hair.”

“So he’s mentioned a couple of times,” snickered Sue.

“Make that many, _many_ times,” laughed Mark. 

“Actors often have to change their appearance for a role,” pointed out Emily.  “They won’t have dark hair forever – just until the filming’s done.”

Heather circled Mark, looking at his hair appraisingly. “Oh, I really do hate this dark colour on you!  With your natural colour, it isn’t as obvious that you’re losing your hair.”

“Thank you. I’ll be sure to pass on your comments to Claire,” said a clearly miffed Mark.

“Perhaps the black is a bit harsh,” interjected Sue, as she studied Mark’s hair closely. 

“It’s really ugly,” said Heather.  “You know they do have this stuff called fill in powder.  You brush it on your scalp and it will hide the fact that you’re losing your hair.  Its rain and sweat proof.  My granny uses it to hide the fact that she’s…”

“Heather!” Emily barked sharply. “Can you please help me wrap up the sandwiches?”

Sue regarded Mark’s hair.  “Perhaps Claire could tone it down a bit.”

“Whose dumb idea was it for you two to dye your hair that awful colour anyway?!”   Demanded Heather.  “It really is ugly as fuck…I mean sin. Pardon me.  If it were up to me, I would have gone with a chestnut brown with subtle auburn or caramel highlights.”

Sue Vertue began to titter as Mark glared at her.  _Hahaha! If only Heather knew the hours spent debating what colour Sherlock’s hair should be!  I said the midnight black was too dark; but they told me I didn’t know what I was talking about.  My husband and Mark insisted that Sherlock had to be a creature of the night and that Mark’s hair had to match._

“Perhaps you should heed Heather’s comments,” snickered Sue.  “She makes a good point.”

Mark Gatiss’ face reddened as he cleared his throat and drew himself up to his full height before addressing the girl before him.  “So sorry you don’t approve, Heather; but the idea was mine, her husband’s and our hair supervisor, Claire Pritchard’s.  Shall I ring them up and arrange for a conference call so you can share your views?”

 

*************************************************

 

Benedict Cumberbatch mounted the stairs to his flat with great effort.  His head was pounding with each step, and he felt winded by the time he stepped onto the landing.  He paused to catch his breath, coughed violently and entered his flat. Dr. Steve Cipriano was sitting on the couch watching the telly, which he turned off upon hearing Benedict enter the room and shut the door.  Bob apparently had turned the fireplace on and adjusted the heat for him before leaving.

“Nice cough you’ve got there, Ben.  I could hear you wheezing your way up the stairs over the TV,” began Steve.

“Such an unusual greeting that. Evening, Doctor,” rasped Benedict, as he lapsed into another spell of coughing.  “People generally say hello.”

Steve watched as Benedict removed a handkerchief from his coat pocket and hacked into it.   _He sounds horrible, not to mention that fact that he’s having difficulty breathing normally.  I’m betting on bronchitis or worse just from the sounds of it._

“Hello, Ben.  You should and look like shit.  Better?”

“Piss off!”  Benedict snapped.  He coughed violently and then paused to catch his breath.

“I didn’t mean to insult you; but you’re not exactly material for the poster boy of good health.”

“I’m fine, Steve, really!  I’m just getting over this motherfucking cold is all.  The cough is hanging on with a vengeance, so I bought myself some cough syrup at the chemist.” 

Steve watched as Benedict removed his coat and hung it up on the wooden coat stand to dry.   _Who is he kidding?_ _His color is awful!  He’s far paler than normal.  His eyes are bloodshot and his nose is irritated from blowing it._

Benedict toed off his shoes and shoved his feet into his favourite corduroy slippers.  “Ah…that’s better. Sorry I couldn’t be here to welcome you myself.”  He hugged himself against a sudden chill that made his teeth chatter.

“I miscalculated the time it took to walk here from the Belsize Park tube station, but your downstairs neighbor insisted on letting me in,” explained Steve sheepishly. “I hope that was okay.”

_He doesn’t want to say that I was late – as usual.  I got side tracked in the chemist’s. Luckily, he understands that I never really learnt how to manage my time better._

“That’s fine.  I met Bob on his way out and he told me you were up here.” Benedict paused as another fit of coughing overtook him.  “I…I…” Benedict sucked in some air and felt a burning inside his chest. 

Steve frowned at him.  “I hope Bob also told you that you sound like hell.”

“I was wondering how long it would take for you to morph into doctor mode.”  Benedict retrieved his handkerchief and blew his nose into it.  He outwardly grimaced as there wasn’t a dry clean spot on the square of linen as he had been using it all day.  “Shit, this is disgusting even by my standards!” Benedict muttered to himself as he stuffed the soiled handkerchief back into his pocket.  He spied Steve outwardly cringing out of the corner of his eye.

“I _morphed_ as soon as I heard you hacking up a lung in the hallway.  By the way, you should ditch that handkerchief and use disposable tissues instead.  Not only are those things a breeding ground for germs, but disgusting to look at as well.”

“Duly noted, Doctor, I will endeavor to only use tissues from here on in when I’m under the weather.” Benedict went to stand by the fireplace and hugged himself.  “Christ, it’s so fucking cold in here!  I’m going to turn up the heat.”

“It’s not cold in here at all, Ben,” retorted Steve.  “The room is at a perfectly normal temperature.  You’re suffering from chills.”

Benedict sneezed and coughed again into his hands.  “Bloody hell!  I can’t seem to stop coughing!”  He rummaged in his messenger bag and squirted some hand sanitizer into his left palm and rubbed it in.

Steve tossed the box of tissues to Benedict.  “Professionally speaking, that’s one excellent cough you’ve got there.  Do you have a fever?”

“How in the fuck would I know?  I’ve been at work all bloody fucking day trying to play Sherlock cocksucking Holmes and not convince the producers that I haven’t come down with the fucking plague!”

Steve blinked at him. “Wow!  Your language is much saltier than usual. I’m impressed!”

“It’s a result of working with Martin Freeman all week,” laughed Benedict with a wave of his hand.  “I’m sorry if I offended your tender ears.” He started to cough again. 

“I started to make us a before dinner dirty martini as I was able to locate all the ingredients…”

Benedict smiled.  “Oh, that would be lovely!  That’s just what I need!”

“Um…actually, I was going to say that probably isn’t the best thing for you right now.”

“And why the hell not?”

“Because you shouldn’t be mixing meds with alcohol.”

“I’ve only been taking a couple of paracetamols here and there. I haven’t taken the cough syrup or anything else yet.”

“How about if I give you a quick check up?”

“I knew you were going to ask sooner or later,” sighed Benedict.

“I’m going to have to beg for your indulgence, Ben;  because I need to pacify my inner doctor – the one who’s screaming that you’re a very sick man.”

“Fine then. Let’s have our drink, go out for a curry and then you can come back and have your way with me – medically speaking of course.”

“How about I check you over first, then if it’s only a cold, which I doubt just from observation; we’ll go out.  I’m afraid no alcohol for you regardless.”

“Oh, fuck off!  Surely one drink…”

“Not only will it interfere with any medication you’re taking, but it will also dehydrate you, which is the last thing you want.  You need to be drinking water, juice, decaf tea…”

Benedict scrunched up his nose in distaste.  “You’re a pain in my arse, Doctor.”

“I’m qualified to check that out as well. Now, have a seat and let’s take a look at you,” said Steve, getting up and going over to his backpack.  “Sit there please,” he said gesturing to the dining area table. 

Benedict flopped onto one of the chairs as he watched Steve rummage around in his backpack. “So, is that where you keep your little black bag?”

“As a matter of fact, yes,” replied Steve, pulling out his bag.

“I thought they were passé.”

“Nope.  My parents gave it to me when I graduated medical school.”

“Do you always keep it in your backpack?”

“I filled in for my ailing supervisor and taught his courses today. I think I’ve just gotten into the habit of taking it along.  You never know when it might come in handy – like tonight.”

“Does this mean you’re going to charge me for a bloody house call?”

Steve laughed as he removed the stethoscope, a spirometer, blood pressure cuff and a couple of instruments so he could inspect Benedict’s ears, nose and throat.  “I’ll let you buy me dinner as payment. Now, if you’ll roll up your sleeve please, we can get started.”

 

*****************************************************

 

Donna Saint James tipped the pizza delivery boy and shut the front door of her brownstone with her foot.  She put the box on the hall table while she locked the door and set the alarm before bringing the pizza into Carly’s apartment.  Her sister was in the kitchen admiring the table, which she had just finished setting with her Mickey Mouse plates, cutlery and glasses. 

“It’s freezing out there!” exclaimed Donna, setting the box on the counter. 

“I was just watching the Weather Channel, and they’re still predicting a blizzard with accumulations up to twelve inches in the city.  All flights for tomorrow have already been cancelled, not that I’m at all surprised.”

“It’s a good thing we thought to change our flight to Saturday night.  That’ll give the sanitation crews plenty of time to clear the roads.  I see we’re dining with Mickey tonight.  I forgot how cute these plates were.”

“I really miss eating out of my Disney plates,” said Carly sadly. “I was thinking of having everything shipped to London, but I still don’t know if we’re going to be staying there or not.”

“I thought Steve signed on for another year at the teaching hospital,” said Donna as she plated the pizza. 

“He did; but I still wish I knew for sure where we’re going to wind up permanently.  I feel like a gypsy.”

“Well, I’m happy to have you guys around for another year!”

“Mmmm…there’s nothing like New York pizza!” said Carly, taking a bite. 

Donna sipped some Dr. Brown’s Diet Cream soda and noticed that Carly had set up her laptop on the table.  “Are you expecting a Skype call?”

“Yes!  I thought it might be nice to have dinner with Steve and Ben.”

“It’s way past dinnertime in London, and Benedict has been doing an excellent job of avoiding face and voice time with me all week.  I suspect he’s trying to hide the fact that he’s sick, which is why I emailed Steve to do me a favor and look in on him.”

Carly tossed her blonde curls over her shoulders.  “You’re right.  Steve met Andrew in the elevator this morning, and he mentioned that Ben is down with a nasty cold or the flu.”

“It can’t be the flu.  Benedict got a shot.”

“You can still get the flu, Donna.”

“That’s a crock of crap.”

“No, it’s true.”

“Since when did you become such a medical expert, Carla?”

“Since I married a doctor.  Anyway, we’ll know for sure as soon as Steve calls.  He was going up to Hampstead on the premise of having dinner with Ben.”

“Why didn’t Benedict just tell me he was sick?”

“Hmmm…probably because you can be an intimidating little bitch,” snickered Carly. “You’ve been on his ass to get that fucking flu shot for months now.”

“I was just trying to remind him to get one.”

“Well, you may have thought you were reminding him; but it came off as nagging the poor man.  He already has a mother who does a great job at nagging.”

Donna looked at her sister and nodded. “You’re right, and the last thing I want is to remind him of Wanda.”

“Then you need to watch what you say.”

“Damn! I’m such a shrew sometimes.  Benedict deserves better than that.  I just didn’t want him to get sick, Carly.  _Sherlock_ is such an important job for him. He can’t afford to get sick now!”

“Well, apparently, despite your best efforts at keeping him healthy; the man is sick.”

Donna nodded as she chewed her pizza.  “You’re right.  I need to take a step back and stop trying to mother him.”

“It couldn’t hurt.  Look at how Mom treats us sometimes.”

“Smother love,” giggled Donna.

Carly began to giggle as well.  “I’ll always remember the first time Scarlett said that to her!  I thought for sure there would be no wedding; but Mom backed down.”

“That’s because Daddy reined her in.  I love it when he calls her over-stepping her bounds: Toni’s Pool of Enthusiasm,” mused Donna.  “Benedict always jokes about that.”

“Just as long as he doesn’t start calling it Donna’s Pool of Enthusiasm.”

“Your point has been made and taken, _Carla_.”

“How’s your pizza?” asked Carly, changing the subject.

“Ray’s makes the best pizza in New York.”

“So you said in your first review.”

“It was my second review.”

The Skype chime began to ring and Steve’s icon popped up on the screen.

“Can you get that, Donna?  My hands are greasy.”

Donna leaned forward and answered the call.  Steve’s smiling face filled the screen.  Donna immediately recognized that he was sitting at Benedict’s dining table with his back to the window.  She could barely make out the London skyline in the darkness.

“Greetings from London!” said Steve.  “It’s a little after ten here.”

Carly’s face lit up at the sight of her husband. “Hi Babe!  Donna and I were just having an early dinner before the storm starts.”

“What are you two having?”

“Pizza!” replied Carly, holding up her plate.  “Ray’s Margherita pizza with fresh mozzarella, basil and a sprinkling of Pecorino Romano.”

Steve pulled a face.  “I’m so fucking jealous right now.”

“I’ll be sure to have a slice for you,” teased Carly.

“How’s Colin?  Anxious to get home I bet.”

“You’ve got that right!  He asks the doctor every day if he can be discharged,” said Donna.

“Grandpa’s getting better every day and should be home by Monday,” replied Carly.

“That should finally put Neil’s mind at ease,” said Steve.  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen his so worried.”

“Not since our grandmother died,” confirmed Carly.  “Dad rarely leaves Grandpa’s bedside.  Donna and I booted him out this afternoon; so he could go home and get some rest.”

“Where’s Benedict?” asked Donna.

“Fast asleep – thanks to a dose of cough syrup and a dirty martini,” replied Steve.  “I was surprised that he let me check him; but he did.  Ben’s got…”

“A dirty martini?!? Why is he having a drink with meds?” demanded Donna.  “Didn’t you tell him it’s dangerous to mix alcohol and meds?”

“Of course I did!  So, I had a look at him…”

“Then why did you let him drink it?”

Steve sighed.  “Ben’s an adult, Donna; and he wanted a drink with dinner.  I wasn’t going to pull the glass out of his hand and pour it down the drain.”

“You should have done exactly that!  I would have, had I been there!” cried Donna. 

“That’s enough, _Mom_ ,” Carly muttered under her breath.  “One drink isn’t going to kill him.  Now, let Steve talk please.”

Donna indicated that Steve should continue.

“Ben’s got a nice case of the flu.”

“But he had a flu shot!” retorted Donna.  “How can that be?”

Steve sighed.  “It seems he didn’t get a shot and….”

“What?  Benedict promised me he’d get one!”

“Ben said he kept putting it off for one reason or another and then when he finally got around to seeing his doctor, they were out.  Everyone’s supply has been depleted for weeks.”

“Crap.  If only he had listened to me!”

“Donna, I want _you_ to listen to _me_ ,” said Steve sternly. “Getting a flu shot is no guarantee that you won’t get the flu.  It doesn’t provide one hundred percent protection – it’s more like seventy percent in reality; so even _you_ can still catch it.  It will just be a milder case.  Anyway, the strains they predicted for this year’s season have mutated; so that’s most likely what Ben picked up from his symptoms.”

“Crap!”

“You already said that twice now,” said Carly, as she filled their empty plates with another slice of the pizza. 

“What about Tami flu?” asked Donna.  “If he takes that, it will cut a few days off of it.”

“To be honest, from what I’ve read in the medical journals, it’s not all that effective.”

“Something is better than nothing,” retorted Donna. “Can you write him a prescription for it?”

“For it to do any good, it has to be taken within a couple of days of the symptoms first appearing.  Unfortunately, Ben’s had these symptoms since Sunday, so it won’t do him any good.  Besides he should be over it by early next week if he takes care of himself over the weekend and gets some rest.”

“Isn’t there _anything_ you can give him – how about an antibiotic?”

“Antibiotics are useless against a virus, which is what influenza is. He has to drink plenty of fluids and rest.  I told Ben to keep taking a fever reducer, and…”

“That’s all?  What about the cough and congestion?”

“Let him finish, Donna!” hissed Carly.

“I went out and bought him a cough suppressant that contains an antihistamine and decongestant to keep him comfortable when I went to get us dinner. Ben’s just going to have to ride it out, and hopefully, he won’t develop any secondary infections.  That’s the only thing I’m concerned about – he’s having difficulty breathing due to chest congestion.  I also bought him an expectorant, which should help.”   

Donna heard footsteps on the wooden floor, and Steve looked off camera.

“How long have I been sleeping?” came Benedict’s groggy voice. 

Donna noted that his voice sounded very rough and winced when he began to cough.

“So much for your cough suppressant, Doctor,” Came his voice again.

Steve looked into the camera.  “Believe it or not, the cough sounds a little better than it did.”

“Jesus,” breathed Donna.

“You’ve been sleeping for almost four hours. Did I wake you?” Steve said to Benedict.

“No, I had to use the loo.”

“I’m Skyping with Carly and Donna, if you’d like to join us,” Steve offered.

“Only if you’re feeling up to it, Benedict,” said Donna.

“I’m always up to seeing you, Love,” croaked Benedict as he pulled up a chair and sat beside Steve.  “Don’t look so worried.”

Donna could see that Benedict was wearing his heavy blue robe over red and blue flannel pajamas, and his dark curls were in disarray.  His nose was red from all the blowing, and he appeared paler than usual.

“Oh my God!  You sound awful, Ben Honey!”

“I sound worse than I feel.  The meds are doing wonders for me.  This is the longest I’ve slept without being interrupted by coughing fits.”

“I wish I were there to take care of you!” she exclaimed.

“I wish you were here, too; but there’s not much to be done for the flu.  Besides it was paramount that you be with your Granddad.  How is the old boy?”

“Grandpa’s so much better.  He was his old feisty self today,” replied Carly.

“Please give him my best.”

“Will do.”

“I made you chicken soup before I left for New York.  It was in my refrigerator,” said Donna.

“Yes, and I brought it over here.  It was delightful – just the tonic I needed. Sadly, it’s all gone; so I’ve been making do with tinned broth.”

“I don’t know if either of you have been keeping up with the news here; but we’re expecting a blizzard,” said Carly.

“The weather’s actually been colder here,” said Steve.

“Yeah.  We’ve been checking the UK weather as well,” added Donna.

“It’s still as cold as it was before Christmas with no relief expected in the near future,” continued Steve. “Everyone’s been saying that this is supposed to be the coldest winter the UK has had in a long time.”

“They’re forecasting snow for Monday, so I hope you’ll be able to catch a flight back here before then,” added Benedict. 

“Don’t you have to be in Wales for filming next week?” asked Donna.

“Yeah.  They’re predicting quite a bit of snow to fall in the Cardiff area; so I plan on taking an early morning train there on Sunday,” replied Benedict.  “That’ll give me time to get settled into my hotel room and rest up for Monday’s filming.”

“What about you two?” asked Steve. 

“Our flight has been cancelled; but we were lucky to snag two seats in the last row on an overnight flight Saturday,” added Carly.  “We’ll be arriving at Heathrow at seven on Sunday – provided they’re able to clear the roads and runways.”

“I’ll pick you up outside Terminal Five,” said Steve. “Bring bagels.”

“There’s no need to rent a car, Sweetie. We’ll take the Heathrow Express,” said Carly.  “We only have carry-ons; so you can sleep.”

“You look really out of it, Ben,” observed Donna.  “Why don’t you go back to bed?  We can chat tomorrow.”

Benedict nodded and stifled a yawn.  “I am feeling rather spaced out, so if you ladies will excuse me.  Steve, I’m not being a rubbish host; but could you please let yourself out?”

“Sure, Ben.  Call me if you need anything.”

“Feel better, Ben,” said Carly.

“Sleep well, Ben Honey,” said Donna.  “I love you.”

“I love you, too.  Night,” replied Benedict as he got to his feet and shuffled off camera.

“Well, I hate to cut this short, girls; but I’m going to head out before the tube shuts down for the night,” said Steve.  “I’m not a fan of sleeping on couches.”

After chatting for a couple of more minutes, Steve signed off.  Carly and Donna finished their second slices of pizza in companionable silence.

“I noticed you didn’t tell Steve about our Skype call with Emily earlier,” commented Donna.

“No, I didn’t.”

“Why not?  That’s pretty exciting news about Mark bringing Sue Vertue over to try our food.”

“That was only a few hours ago and nothing has come of it.  They simply went over to Carldonn and bought some food to take home for their dinners.  It doesn’t have to mean _anything_ , Donna.”

“Oh, I disagree!  Mark hates those caterers with a passion, and Benedict also said the food was lousy.  It makes sense that Mark is trying to sell her on switching over to us!  He’s the one responsible for getting us the _Dr. Who_ job!”

Carly swirled the ice cubes in the glass and finished her soda.  “Another reason not to mention it to Steve is because I hate arguing over Skype – especially when there’s nothing to argue over yet.  I noticed you didn’t say anything to Ben, unless you emailed him about it.”

“Of course not!  He just knows that we’re thinking of expanding next door.”

“Which I’m sure was met with the same resistance I got from Steve when I brought up the possibility.”

“He didn’t think it was the best idea.”

 “I rest my case.”

“You sound just like Mom, Curly Carly.”

“I don’t think you meant that as a compliment, Sister.”

“It wasn’t meant to be.  So, do you have any ice cream stashed away in your freezer that we should eat to prevent it from getting freezer burn?”

“Sure do.  I’ve got two pints of Ben and Jerry’s:  Chubby Hubby or Coffee Heath Bar Crunch.  What’s your pleasure?”

“I want the Chubby Hubby, of course.”

Carly laughed.  “I hate to disappoint you, but I don’t ever see you having to worry about having a chubby hubby!  Ben’s as thin as a rail.”

“He has to keep lean for Sherlock.  Gosh, I wish I could go to Cardiff with him.”

“Well, you can’t.  He’ll be catching a train as we’re arriving and besides you don’t have any clean clothes to pack.”

Donna Saint James cleared the table and put away the leftovers while Carly scooped out their ice cream with her Mickey Mouse ice cream scoop. 

“I was just thinking…I bet Benedict would be thrilled if I could come along with him to Cardiff.”

“If he wanted you to come along, he would have asked you long before now.”

“You know how Benedict is sometimes…it probably didn’t occur to him that I could go.”

“We’ll be landing the morning he’s leaving. Do you know what time his train is?  Which station does he leave from?  Waterloo?  Victoria?  Paddington?”

“I heard him say he’ll be taking a train out of Paddington.”

“Our plane lands at seven.  Once we deplane we have to walk to the terminal, clear customs, get our luggage and walk to the Heathrow Express.  If everything goes perfectly, we should arrive at Paddington around eight thirty.  What time is his train?”

“Benedict never leaves early.”

“Well, that certainly is a big help,” snorted Carly.  “You don’t know.”

“All I have to do is ask him, and I can buy a ticket online.”

“You’re forgetting something?”

“What?”

“You have a job.  What about your column?”

“I emailed Eric my column for Sunday before I came down here.”

“I’m talking about next week.”

“I always keep one column ahead just in case something comes up like it did with Grandpa this week.”

“What about clothes?  Your suitcase is filled with stuff you can only buy here.”

“I can leave it all behind.  Mom and Dad are welcome to share it with Kenny and Grandpa.  Then I can just pack some of my clean clothes from here to take with me.”

“If – for argument’s sake – you do go with Ben, what are you going to do in Cardiff?  Ben will be working all day and possibly nights.  They may even be going to other locations as well as filming in the studio.”

“I’ve never been to Wales; so I can go sightseeing while he’s working…”

“Did you not hear what Benedict said about the weather?  They are expecting quite a bit of snow in Wales.  I can’t see you sitting in a hotel room watching TV and reading books.”

“Maybe I can visit the set, and he can introduce me to Sue Vertue.  Then I can give her a sales pitch about using Carldonn when the time is right.”

“Ah HA!  The other shoe finally drops. I should have known you had an ulterior motive.”

“That’s not true! Spending time with Benedict is my priority.”

“Have you ever considered that going to Cardiff to be with Ben might be _your_ priority, Donna; but it may not be Ben’s?  He may find your presence distracting, not to mention that every Monday morning your editor holds a staff meeting.”

Donna Saint James ate a spoonful of ice cream and thought about what her sister had just said.  _She’s right.  If Benedict wanted me there, he would have extended the invitation well before this._

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. The photos of the Coffee Shop are how I envision Carldonn Creative Catering to look at this time.
> 
> 2\. Ben and Jerry's is my all-time favorite supermarket ice cream and Chubby Hubby is my favorite flavor. They do have 'scoop shops' in major cities as well that sell cones, sundaes and shakes. If you are ever in Vermont, they offer a wonderful factory tour - with samples!!!


	172. Chapter 172

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sue Vertue makes a decision. Donna receives several messages upon her arrival in London. Paths cross at Paddington Station.
> 
> Note: I’ll be using *************** for things happening at the same time.

 

 

Thursday night Mark Gatiss and Ian Hallard were sat on the couch in the lounge of their Islington home, watching the end of a DVD of _The Shining_ with their cream-coloured Labrador retriever, Bunsen, snuggled in between them.  Even though they had the heat turned up and the fireplace lit, there was still a slight chill in the air. 

“Awww…that’s just one brilliant movie!” exclaimed Mark as the closing credits began to roll.  “I just adore the way Stephen King thinks.  The man is a master of the horror genre!”

“Normally, the film can’t compare with the book; but this one is every bit as entertaining as the book,” agreed Ian.

“Jack Nicholson’s performance was genius,” said Mark, looking down at Bunsen, who was fast asleep. “I suppose he didn’t much fancy it.”

“Do you need a break or are you ready to continue our Stephen King film festival?” Ian asked, indicating the DVD of _Misery_ that lay on the coffee table with his foot.

“I think I’m in need of a break, Love.”

Ian reached over and sipped from his beaker of tea and grimaced.  “Ugh! My tea’s gone cold.”

“We could use a popcorn refill, fresh tea and the throw.  By the way, have you seen the throw?”

Ian noted that the throw had been left in a heap on the seat of one of their wing chairs.  “You left it on the right wing chair after you had a read of the paper yesterday.”

“Tell you what - I volunteer to fetch the throw and sort out the snacks. Then whilst I’m in the kitchen, you can convince Bunsen to move over; so we can have a proper cuddle when I return.” 

“You’ll disturb Bunsen from his kip if you get up.”   

“Well, I’m afraid I’m going to have to risk it if we want snacks and the throw,” said Mark, gently lifting Bunsen’s hind quarters off of his leg. “Sorry to disturb you, old chap; but I’ve got to get up for just a bit.”

The dog snorted and raised his head from Ian’s lap to look back at Mark and then at him.  Ian scratched the dog behind the ears. “Don’t look at me like that, Bunsen.  It was his idea.”

Mark checked the climate control and shuddered. “Bloody hell!  We’ve got the heat turned up as high as the thermostat will go, and I’m still feeling a chill in here.”

“The weather people do keep reminding us that this is one of the coldest winters on record so far,” Ian quipped.  “Thank God we’ve got our body heat to keep us warm in bed.”

As Mark strode to the chair to retrieve the fluffy throw, his mobile began to ring.  Ian cocked an eyebrow at him.

“I thought we had a house rule that all mobiles are switched off after nine o’clock,” Ian reminded him as Bunsen re-arranged himself and climbed up onto his master’s lap.

“We do, and I’m truly sorry; but I forgot as I was in such a rush to get inside and get my warm track suit on.  Please forgive me, but I’ve got to take this call.  It’s Sue.  God knows who’s come down with that fucking flu now!  The cast and crew are succumbing one at a time.  I shan’t be long…I hope,” said Mark as he tossed the throw to his husband and headed in the direction of the kitchen.

“Instead of the popcorn, how about we have some biscuits to go with the tea whilst you’re taking your call?  I’d do it myself, but I’ve got a rather large dog in my lap, who doesn’t fancy moving,” laughed Ian.

“Mmm…some of those lemon biscuits that I brought home would be lovely.   Perhaps you can convince Bunsen to let me sit beside you when I return and we can all share the throw.”

Mark answered his mobile as he walked into the kitchen.  “Hello, Sue!  Who is it this time?”

_“What do you mean who is it this time? Sounds like you’re not having the best evening.”_

“No, we’re actually having a lovely evening, watching Stephen King DVDs by the fire. I meant with all the illness going around, I was certain you were calling to let me know that another key person had taken ill.”

_“No, no!  There have been no new ones. The stricken ones are all in recovery mode and the others remain hale and hearty as far as I know…except for Benedict.”_

Mark filled the tea kettle with water and switched it on.  “Shit!  He’s the star!  We can’t afford to have him sick.”

_“I hate to ruin your evening then; but Ben just rang me to let me know that he saw a doctor, and he’s definitely got the real flu – not man flu like I’d been teasing him about having – he made sure I understood that.”_

“I shouldn’t be surprised. I knew something nasty was brewing inside him all week,” Said Mark, as he carefully measured out the Darjeeling tea leaves into the teapot.

_“Bloody hell, we all suspected – there wasn’t a person present at the table read or rehearsals who didn’t suspect something were wrong with the way he kept sneezing and sniffling and hacking.”  
_

“And dripping…let us not forget the dripping!” snorted Mark.  “Sorry, I hope you weren’t eating.”

_“I was nibbling on a biscuit.”  
_

“My bad.  So sorry.”Mark opened the biscuit tin and put the two left over lemon biscuits on a napkin along with some of the lavender shortbread rounds that Maria had given him.  “We have to give Ben kudos for soldiering on though.”

Sue sighed.  _“Yes, we do.  Kudos to Benedict for showing up every day to share his germs with us, bless him.”_

“And had he begged off, you would have been extremely pissed off.”

_“Well, the budget and all…I’ve got a schedule that we’ve got to try and adhere to.”_

“Hopefully, the cameramen will be feeling better by Monday.”

_“Trevor sounded much better when I spoke with him earlier.  He plans on heading up to Cardiff as does Ben.”_

“It’s integral that Ben’s in good health for next week.  The first scenes we’re filming all require him.”

_“I’m well aware of that!  I was just perusing the schedule, and he’ll be needed all next week except for Friday.  He told me that he plans on staying in bed and resting all weekend; so he should be better by Monday.”_

Mark poured the just-boiled water over the tea leaves and set the timer for it to steep.  “Well, he’s had it all fucking week; so he should be better by Monday.  Thank you for calling to let me know.”

_“Umm…the reason I’m calling is to tell you that I was very, very impressed with your posh caterer.  Everything I brought home was met with rave reviews.  The boys hoovered up every single crumb as well as Steven, who inhaled everything!”_

“What about his hot, home-cooked meal?”

_“Stop being so damn cheeky, Mark! Steven said if I always brought home sandwiches like this, he’d never complain again. Of course that remains to be seen; but there was actually an argument over who got the last lemon biscuit, if you can believe that!”_

“I can believe that.  They were sublime.”

“ _I’ve been mulling things over and was thinking that we should discuss the possibility of using them to cater the Sherlock location shoots in London.”_

“You’re afraid of Martin Freeman’s wrath,” teased Mark.

_“I’m not afraid of anyone’s wrath,”_ insisted Sue.

“Perhaps intimidated is a better word then.”

_“Alright, the man is very intimidating at times. However, what Martin said was the catalyst that gave me pause to consider making a change in caterers.  The food was bloody awful as everyone’s been pointing out all bloody week.  I couldn’t even stomach it, and I’m not all that discriminating when it comes to catered food.”  
_

“Why is that?”

_“Because most of it is rubbish!  That’s why I often send runners over to Pret A Manger or Paul’s to get food on location.”_

Mark put a bag of popcorn into the microwave and set it.  _I’m feeling very peckish; so I’ll surprise Ian with popcorn and biscuits._ “And?”

_“Steven suggested it after the boys had gone to bed.  He pointed out how good the food for Dr. Who was and how much happier the cast and crew were compared to what he experienced on the days he was present at the Sherlock table read and rehearsals.”_

The timer rang and Mark removed the tea strainer basket from the pot.  He suddenly felt excited. “So we’re making the change then yes?”

_“Not yet.  I have to go over the budget carefully and see where cuts can be made to make up for the higher prices they’re going to charge. This is something I’ll need to review with you and Steven to see what can and can’t be trimmed.”  
_

“That sounds fair enough.  We’ll have three hours on the train to Cardiff to do it.” _  
_

_“I’ll also want to see a quote so I can make comparisons. Then I’ll make my decision based on that.”  
_

“Shall I contact the girls when they return to get a quote to us then?”

_“I’ll do that.  Ben’s fiancée is still in New York; so I thought I’d request a meeting when we get back to London next Saturday. If you’d be so kind as to email me her contact info; I can get in touch with her from Cardiff.”  
_

“Some people will call it nepotism should you hire them,” snickered Mark. “It is Ben’s fiancée and his future sister-in-law’s business.”

_“Let them call it whatever they bloody well want to.  I call it keeping our cast and crew happy.”_

“I call it getting Martin Freeman off your back,” snorted Mark.

_“That, too!  The thought of him leading a full-scale rebellion at a location shoot terrifies me.”  
_

“Well, we surely wouldn’t want that.  If it means anything, I think you’re making the right decision, Sue.”

_“Yes, I think I am, too.  Let’s just hope I can find a way to sort it out – budget-wise. Regardless of whether I hire your posh caterer or not, I’ve got to replace the one we have now as they’re just bloody awful.”_

“Then why not give Carldonn Creative Catering a chance?  I’m sure they will be able to work within your meager budget.”

_“Make that very meager. This is the BBC’s funding we’re talking about after all.”_

“Alright then, as you wish – _very meager_ ,” laughed Mark.  “I have every confidence in your ability to work miracles when it comes to manipulating the budget, Madame Producer.  You managed to muck around with the numbers so Ben could have all those beautifully-tailored Spencer Hart suits.”

_“That was a trick of the first order, and our costume supervisor wasn’t happy about being forced to scout charity shops for some of the other characters.”  
_

“No, she wasn’t; but the dear girl warmed to the task and soldiered on. Martin and Loo were very pleased with what she came up with.”

_“Sarah did buy some amazing things. Martin’s suggestion of getting him Uniqlo jeans also saved us both time and money. He’s been extremely helpful with helping her select appropriate items for Watson’s wardrobe.”_

“Ben looks so dapper in those suits – they fit him like a glove.  It makes me want to swoon whenever I see him dressed as Sherlock.” _  
_

_“You’ll get no argument from me.  He looked like Sherlock Holmes as soon as he puts his costume on.”_

“That was money well-spent; and so will the money be for the catering. I assure you.”

“ _Goodnight, Mark!”_

“Goodnight, Sue.”

 

 

Sunday Morning:

 

Donna Saint James sat in one of the two First-Class Cars of the Heathrow Express, which was making its way towards Paddington Station.  She was feeling very impatient as the train that was to be delayed only by ten minutes had now stretched into twenty-five.

“We’re the only ones in this car,” observed Carly, looking around.  “I guess no one wants to pay extra for a fifteen minute ride.”

“We’re only sitting in here because I found a discount code online yesterday.”

Carly gazed out the window at the passing scenery.  “I love these single, roomier seats and not having to sit next to anyone.  We even have this nifty little table between us to put our coffee and tea on.”

“It’s still not worth the money hadn’t I gotten a discount.  We would have done better if we had gotten a cab this morning. Damn late train!”

“That’s a crock of crap, Donna! This is so much faster than driving!  We just relax and enjoy the ride; and we’ll be at Paddington in fifteen minutes.”

“Humph!  Some fifteen minute ride this is turning out to be!  We’re never going to get to Paddington before nine.”

“Why is it so important to be there at nine?”

“Benedict’s taking the nine o’clock train to Cardiff, and I was hoping to see him off.”

“We should get there by eight forty-five; so you might be able to catch him.”

“I hope so.  I really want to see him.”

“There’s nothing you can do to make the train go any faster. In the meantime; why don’t you just make the best of it and relax in our spacious, private, first-class car and enjoy the ride,” suggested Carly.

“It _is_ nice in here isn’t it?” agreed Donna, surveying their surroundings.

Carly smiled at Donna.  “Sure is.  It’s like when we’re the only ones in the monorail at Disney.”

“Yes!  It does have the same feeling. By the way, has your phone been switched over to UK service yet?”

“I had service inside the terminal.  Steve left a welcome back message and asked if we had bagels.”

“Did you tell him not this time?”

“I’ll break it to him gently when we get home.”

“You could stop at The Bagel Factory in Paddington Station.  They’re not New York bagels, but they’re not terrible.”

“That’s a good idea.  It’ll soften the blow,” laughed Carly.

Donna checked her cellphone for the twentieth time.  “Yea!  I’ve got service…and voice mails!”

There were three voicemails.  The first was from Mark Gatiss:

_**“Welcome back to London, Donna. I hope your Grandfather is on the mend. I just wanted to let you know that our Sherlock producer, Sue Vertue, was very impressed with the food she tasted from Carldonn and is interested in switching caterers.  Therefore, you can expect a call or email from her sometime in the near future. The deciding factor will be price; so when she requests a quote, make sure to keep that in mind. The BBC didn’t give her a budget anywhere near as generous as Dr. Who’s; so she has to scrimp to get us the really important things – such as Ben’s lovely suits. Give my best to Carly, and you never received this message from me should Sue ever ask.  Hahaha!  Cheers!”**  
_

Donna grinned from ear-to-ear and hit replay as she handed the phone across the table to Carly.  “Listen to this!”

“Why am I suddenly both elated and nervous?” inquired Carly, fluffing her mane of blonde curls over her shoulders.

Donna watched as her sister’s face broke out into a huge smile as she listened. 

“I wonder if she’ll really call.”

“I don’t know.”

“That was nice of Mark to give you a heads up.”

“This is exactly what Maria and Emily thought was going to happen after their visit to Carldonn!”

“Let’s see if she actually calls,” said Carly, sipping her coffee.  “She could easily change her mind.”

“True.”

Carly handed the phone back to Donna, who listened to the next message.  It was from a number she didn’t recognize and didn’t have caller ID: _  
_

_**“Hello, Donna.  My name is Sue Vertue; and I’m the producer for Sherlock.  Mark Gatiss gave me your name and number as I’m interested in setting up a meeting next Saturday to discuss the possibility of your firm catering our London location shoots for this season’s filming.  Please ring me back at 020 7946 0485 whenever it’s convenient. Cheers.”**  
_

“Holy cow!  Sue Vertue didn’t waste much time making contact – this is from yesterday evening when we were on the plane!”

Carly listened to the message and barked out a nervous laugh. “Damn, that was a fast decision!  She only tasted our food on Thursday night.”

“I never expected to be hearing from her so soon either! 

“This is an unbelievable opportunity.  What a shame we may have to turn it down.”

Donna blinked.  “We’re not turning anything down.  We haven’t even been offered anything yet!”

“Well, the odds are in our favor that if we were to provide her with an attractive quote; we would most likely get an offer.”

“You said if.”

“That’s right.  Realistically, it’s not the practical thing to do; and you know it.”

“Don’t you think we could handle two shows?”

“Not at the same time! We’re able to handle what we have now, Donna.  What if the two shows have overlapping schedules?  We could never do two at once.”

“Never, say never, Curly Carly! Where’s your sense of adventure?”

“I left it back in New York along with your common sense.”

“Very funny.”

“I’m not trying to be funny.  I’m frightened of getting in over our heads.”

“Let’s concentrate on making up a proposal she can’t refuse.  I’m sure Benedict will have some good suggestions.  I’ll email him as soon as we get home to see what he says.”

“I can already tell you that he’ll suggest we not get in over our heads.”

“Don’t be such a pessimist!  Don’t you want to expand to the space next door or not?”

“Yes, but neither Steve nor Ben were especially fond of the idea when we first broached the subject.  I can only imagine what Steve is going to say about catering _Sherlock_.”

“Most likely something similar to what Benedict would say.  Look, Carly, their inputs are duly noted; but in the end it’s our business and our decision to make. We’ll continue this discussion later,” huffed Donna.  “I’ve got one more message to listen to.”

Lastly, to her delight, there were several messages from Benedict: _  
_

_**“Hi Donna, it’s me.  I’m sat here in the bath thinking about how much I’m missing you. I’ve added a couple of drops of that mandarin and tarragon-scented oil to the water…you know, the bath oil that you bought just for me.  As soon as the fragrance hits my nostrils, I immediately think of you, which I suppose was its purpose yes?”**  
_

There came a deep, throaty chuckle that made Donna shiver.

**“** _**Any way, well done you! I yearn for your sweet kisses and tender touch, Darling.  I’m feeling incredibly randy tonight, which is surprising since I’ve been a bit under the weather.  If I close my eyes I can almost imagine that I feel your soft fingertips firmly massaging the length of my peen until it begins to swell from the amazing stimulation that only you can give me…ahhhh.  I can actually feel myself starting to stiffen. It’s been an age since we’ve made love or so it seems, and my body is craving to be united with yours…”**  
_

The message cut off.  _Damn!  Just when his message was getting interesting!_

“Is everything okay, Donna?” asked Carly. “Your face is all red.”

“Yeah…um…I’m fine…Benedict seems to be feeling better.  It sounds like he left me one of those long-winded messages of his.”  _Jesus Christ, this is like getting a pornographic message. Oh boy! It looks like there’s another installment.  
_

Donna pressed the little arrow for ‘play’ and listened to the continuation of Benedict’s message. _  
_

_**“Sorry about the interruption…you know what a penchant I have for going on and on.  My cock is growing steadily with desire, and I can feel an urgent yet pleasant throbbing from base to the head.  If only I could enter you and tickle your swollen clit until you scream with euphoric bliss…”**  
_

Donna was trying her best not to squirm in her seat.   _Yeah, if only; and I’m stuck here sitting on this damn train getting hornier by the minute.  
_

**_“…or if you preferred, I would use my tongue.”_ ** _  
_

_The tongue.  Yes, tongue please.  That man knows how to use that tongue of his._  Donna shifted uncomfortably in her seat and caught sight of Carly regarding her with a questioning look, which she ignored.

**_“Ahhh…the memory of how soft and moist and warm you are inside…like a lovely velvet glove surrounding me…a…very… snug glove…I’m trying not to touch myself but I just can’t help it.  How I wish it were your hand stroking me…Ahhhh…that feels sooooo delightful.”_ ** _  
_

The message cut off.  _Holy fucking cow!  He was sitting in the bathtub with a boner and playing with himself.  This man should do pornographic audio books with that sultry voice of his!_

**_“…I long to taste the sublime sweetness of your cunt and can image how you smell when aroused.  Ahhhh…it’s such a lovely, lovely…incredibly lovely musky aroma.  Oh…Darling, I’m getting so fucking hard just thinking about it and wish you were here so we could enjoy a super long foreplay session that would enable us to titillate each other until we can’t bear the anticipation any longer ….oh FUCK…FUCK ME GOD…I’m getting close…and finally merge our bodies together.  After several minutes of the most exquisite fucking, we would bring each other to a nirvana so perfect that we would only have the strength to lay in each other’s arms, listening to the sound of our gentle breathing as our hearts beat as one, reflecting on the embarrassment of riches that our love for each other has blessed us with…CHRIST I’m going to cum….AHHHHHHH  THAT FEELS SO FUCKING GOOD!  OH, OH….AHHHHH.”_ ** _  
_

Donna paused the message.  _Sounds like my honey had a nice, intense orgasm._   “Is it hot in here, Carly?”

Carly studied her.  “No, it’s fine.  Are you _sure_ you aren’t coming down with something?  You look feverish.”

Donna gulped. “No.  I feel fine,” she insisted. _I feel aroused as fuck, and my panties are damp.  
_

“Is Ben still leaving that message?” _  
_

“Yep.  The man is very long-winded, bless his little heart.” Donna pressed play and resumed listening to the message: _  
_

**_“I’m so sorry, Love; but I couldn’t help myself.  Anyway, I’m taking the nine o’clock train to Cardiff tomorrow morning in order to arrive ahead of the snow storm they’re predicting. Perhaps you might fancy coming along with me…”_ ** _  
_

Donna stopped the message and slapped her hand down on the table, causing Carly to jump and almost spill her coffee. _  
_

“Crap!  _Now_ he decides to invite me to come to Cardiff with him!”

“What did you say?”

“Benedict decided late last night while we were flying across the Atlantic that it might be nice for me to join him in Cardiff while he’s filming.”

“I sure underestimated him.  You’re right.  He’s very impulsive at times.”

“And this is one of them!  I just have my carry-on.”

“That’s filled with canned pumpkin and other American goodies,” giggled Carly.  “They really must think we’re nuts when they x-ray our bags.”

Donna returned to the message:

**_“I thought you might want to do some sight-seeing; but then I realized that we’re going to be moving around to different locations; so you most likely wouldn’t be seeing much of me.  For example Monday’s call sheet shows that I have to be on location and in the makeup trailer by seven for a nine o’clock start.  By the time we’re finished and I get back to the hotel, I have to eat dinner and learn my lines for the next day.  We seem to be doing a lot of outdoor and location filming, which means we might also be staying at a different hotel some nights.  I don’t even know yet if we’ll be filming at the studio this week. Unfortunately, you’d only be a lovely distraction – and I don’t mean that in a negative way…well, I do because then I’d only have shagging on my mind when I need to concentrate and focus on my work...”  
_ **

_Again, the message cut off.  Okay, I’ve just been uninvited!  
_

“Grrrrrrr!  Damn him!”

“Now what?”

“I was just uninvited.”

“Why?”

“He realizes that even though he’d like for me to come, I’d be a distraction.”

“So, basically, Ben said that his work has to come first; and he needs to maintain his mind set.”

“Yeah.  That was it in a nutshell with a lot of excessive Benedict-wordiness thrown in.”  _Like listening to him jerk off in the bathtub._

“You can hardly blame the man, Donna.  This show could be his big break if all goes well.”

“You’re right.  I can’t just go run off to join Benedict and then tell Eric I’ve decided to go tour Cardiff with no notice,” sighed Donna.  “It wouldn’t be right.”

Donna listened to the last message from Benedict:

_**“I hope you’re not offended, Sweetheart. I probably never should have mentioned it, but you know me…man with the broken mouth filter.  Hahaha! Anyway, I’m certain there will be an opportunity for you to visit the set once we’re back in London.  I know there will be several location shoots there.  Hopefully, we’ll cross paths in Paddington.  I need to get some sleep, especially since I’ve taken care of that annoying stiffy; so I’m going to wish you goodnight…morning I suppose by the time you get this message.  Love you, Darling!!!**  
_

“We’re approaching Paddington now, Donna.  It’s time to get our stuff together.”

Donna consulted her watch as she stepped off the train and noted that it was almost eight forty-five. 

_Benedict’s taking the nine o’clock train to Cardiff, so I still have time to see him off._  

Donna quickly typed a text message to him:

**I just got off the Heathrow Express.  I’m at Platform 6 headed towards the departure board.   Dxxxx**

She began to hurry along the platform towards the departures board to see what platform the train to Cardiff would be at.

“Hey! Donna!  Wait for me!” shouted Carly from behind her.  “I can’t keep up with you!”

Donna ignored her sister as she got to the end of the platform and approached the electronic departures board.  Her eyes quickly scanned the board for the nine o’clock train to Cardiff.

“There!  It’s on Platform Three!” cried Donna, turning wildly and knocking poor Carly off her feet and onto her bottom.

“Hey!  Watch where you’re going, Donna!” she cried.

“Oh my God!  Are you hurt, Carly?”  Donna dropped her carry-on, which toppled over onto her sister. “I’m so sorry!”

“Is that how you show you’re sorry; but dumping that fucking suitcase on top of me?”

“It was an accident! Give me your hand.”

“Let me help you up, Carly,” came a familiar deep baritone from behind them.  “Donna, if you’d be so kind as to move the luggage?”

Benedict looked concerned as he bent down and extended a slim hand to help Carly to her feet as Donna pulled her suitcase off of her.  “Are you alright?” he inquired.

Carly nodded, but Donna could see that she was fuming.  “Yeah.  I’m fine, Ben.  Thanks.” 

Benedict embraced her and brushed her cheek with a kiss.  “Are you sure?”

“Yes.  Have a safe trip to Cardiff.  Donna, I’m going over to the bagel stand.  Do you want anything?”

“Yes, an onion bagel and tell them easy on the butter.”

"Crap!  You sound more like Mom every day!"

"Shut up, Carla!  Mom would have ordered her spread on the side."

Carly fixed her with a look.  "And when she can't, is that not how Mom orders a bagel?"

Donna sighed.  "Point made.  I'll catch up with you in a few minutes."

Benedict raised an eyebrow at Donna after Carly was out of earshot.  “Where in the hell were you dashing off to?  I saw you running down the platform as I was walking in.  You looked like a mad woman!”

“I was trying to find you so I could say goodbye,” said Donna, hugging him tightly.  She felt him rub small circles on her back as he nuzzled her neck and planted several tiny kisses along it.  She inhaled his scent which was soap mixed with his Attimo cologne.

“Well, you’ve found me,” he chuckled.

“Did you get my text? Your train leaves from Platform Three and is on time.”

Benedict removed his mobile from his coat pocket.  “Yep.  Just now.  Such a pity the fucking train is on-time. I was hoping for a delay, so I could have some time with you.”  He smiled down at her. 

“I missed you, too, Ben Honey. I had to see you,” Donna said stepping back to look him over.  “You look so tired.”

“I have been sick with the fucking flu.”

“How do you feel today?”

“Much better actually - I followed my doctor's advice to the letter. Staying in bed and drinking lots of liquids helped tremendously.  I slept, read and watched the telly.”

“You’d better get going or you’ll miss your train.”

“You’re right.  It’s time I boarded.  Walk with me to the platform then?”

“Of course!”

“Wait!  Let me just collect up my…”

Benedict watched in horror as Donna abruptly turned and tripped over two large suitcases and wound up sprawled on top of them.  He immediately crouched down beside her.

“Are you alright, Donna?”

“Shit!  Which son of a bitch left their luggage unattended? I must look like an ass draped over this pile of luggage.”

_I’ll take that as she’s alright.  
_

“Jeez…how embarrassing!  Is anyone looking at me?”

“No one is looking at you.” Benedict rubbed the back of his neck.  “In answer to your question: I’m the son of a bitch.  Give me your hand, so I can help you up.”  He quickly helped Donna to her feet.  “Are you alright?”

“I think so.  Just a little shaken up, but I’ll live.”

Benedict righted his suitcases as Donna watched.  They appeared to be bulging at the seams.

“You’re taking those two huge suitcases plus your messenger bag and that other bag?”

“Yes.”

“You’re only going to be gone for less than a week, not moving out for good.  What in the hell is in there anyway?”

“Stuff that I _might_ need, _Sweetheart_ ,” replied Benedict testily.  “I hope my jar of raw honey didn’t break,” he sighed.  “It’s a good thing I thought to stash it in a zippered plastic bag.”

_And that was the snotty version of sweetheart.  He’s pissed that I was rushing and tripped over his luggage and then had the balls to question his packing.  
_

“I’m sure everything is okay.  I doubt anything got crushed underneath my weight.”

“I’m sure you’re right.  The important thing is that you didn’t get hurt.  I really do need to get on that train though.  Shall we?”

The two walked to Platform Three in silence. 

“You know this is the second time you’ve fallen for me,” said Benedict, side-eyeing her.

Donna met his gaze and smiled at him.  “You’re right.”

Benedict cleared his throat. “Erm…I trust you got my somewhat lengthy text from last night yes?”

“If you mean the play-by-play of your masturbation session, then yeah.”

Benedict blushed and looked down at his shoes.  “I was just missing you terribly and scent does evoke powerful memories in us, does it not?”

“Did they teach you that at Penhaligon’s?”

“Nope. I read it in an article entitled Smells and Bells.”

"You made that up!" laughed Donna.

Benedict paused to cross his heart.  "I swear - I can email you the link to the article if you fancy.  I found it quite an interesting read."

"It's fine, I do believe you, Honey; and I meant it when I say that it was one of the best text messages I ever got.”

“I’m chuffed you enjoyed it so much," smirked Benedict.

Donna winked playfully at Benedict. “Had I been alone in my apartment, I could have enjoyed it even more.”

“I trust you deleted it then.”

“Hell no!  That one is a keeper!  You never know when a girl is feeling...randy and is in need of release."

Benedict blushed furiously. 

"Have you ever considered reading for pornographic audio books?”

Benedict blushed even more.  “I must admit that I got a bit carried away whilst I was in the bath.  I hadn’t anticipated that I’d wind up having a wank.”

Donna grinned at him.  “That very sexy message was quite a turn on, Mr. Cumberbatch.”

“Was it?”

“Oh yeah!  I’m just glad you were able to get rid of that pesky hard-on.”

“As was I.”

“That’s a comfort to hear.”

“Erm…actually I was referring to the very end of the message…after I climaxed.”

“Oh you mean the invitation that really wasn’t an invitation to go to Cardiff?”

Benedict laughed nervously and bit his lower lip.  “Ah, yes. I hope you weren’t too put off by it.  I opened my mouth and just blurted out whatever had popped into my head…”

“Hmmm…where have I heard those words before?”

“Piss off, Donna,” he snapped suddenly.

“There’s no need to get huffy, Honey! I was just teasing you because you’re famous for just saying whatever comes to mind.”

_Telling him about Mark and Sue’s voicemails can wait for email. The last thing I want is to start an argument on the platform while all the passengers look on.  
_

Benedict abruptly stopped in front of the second car of the train and took her by the arms.  His ice blue eyes bored into hers as he spoke rapidly:

“At first, I thought it a genius idea for you to come along; then I realized that wouldn’t be fair to either of us.  I’d be consumed by work and wouldn’t have much – if any – time to properly spend with you; and the last thing I would want would be for you to feel neglected…so I thought it better if you didn’t come with me this time.  Maybe as things become more…familiar, then I can take you along.  I hope you’re not too terribly offended.”  He crinkled his nose at her and flashed a bashful smile at her.

“No, I’m not mad, Ben.  I was a tiny bit disappointed at first; but I really do understand.  Besides I couldn’t just run off to Cardiff for a week without giving Eric any notice.  I appreciate the thought though.”

Suddenly, the final boarding announcement came over the loud speaker that the train to Cardiff was about to depart from Platform Three.

“I’ll call you tonight on Skype,” said Benedict, pulling her close for a hug.

“I look forward to it.”

“I’d give you a proper kiss, but I don’t want to infect you.”

“I’ve had a flu shot, so I’m not afraid to take a chance.”

“Feel free to kiss me at your own risk then,” smiled Benedict Cumberbatch, leaning down to kiss her full on the lips.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Posting early this week as I just realized this Sunday is the Feast of San Gennaro in NYC and we'll be going!
> 
> 2\. Speaking of Sunday, Good luck to Benedict - I hope he win's an Emmy for Sherlock!
> 
> 3\. I was lucky enough to get discount tickets to ride First Class on the Heathrow Express, and my daughter and I were the only ones in the cars both times. It was fun, but I'd never pay full price for a 15- minute ride.


	173. Chapter 173

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Sherlock cast and crew arrive in Cardiff to begin filming The Great Game and many are surprised. Benedict continues to try and convince himself that he’s not having a relapse of the flu. 
> 
> Warning: Graphic depictions of illness are at the end of this chapter. Please feel free to skip if easily grossed out. 
> 
> Note: I’ll be using *************** for things happening at the same time.

 

Monday morning Benedict Cumberbatch was so excited to begin filming _Sherlock_ that he woke well before the automated wake-up call was scheduled.  In order to ensure he wouldn’t be late, Benedict had requested a wakeup call from the front desk and had set the alarms on his mobile and the bedside alarm clock.  Taking advantage of the extra time, Benedict went down to the indoor pool for a swim and spent some time in the sauna as he had the day before once he had arrived and settled in.

At the welcome dinner the night before, Sue Vertue had informed the cast and crew that a buffet-style breakfast would be available in one of the hotel’s private dining rooms for those who were interested.  After showering, Benedict towel dried his hair and himself before donning one of the hotel’s robes. He hummed to himself as he extracted his shaving cream from his travel kit.  Benedict shook the can and squirted some cream in the palm of his hand.  He applied the lather to his face by feel as he stood in the doorway gazing out at the weather report on the telly. As Benedict returned to the vanity and picked up his razor, his reflection in the mirror caused him to drop the razor in the sink.  He stared in astonishment at his hair, which had turned an ugly green-gray.

_Son of a bitch! For fucks sake! OH MY GOD!  What in the hell is wrong with my bloody hair???  It’s turned green!!!  I thought it had a greenish tinge to it last night; but brushed it off as being rubbish lighting in the loo. Let me see what it looks like in daylight.  
_

Benedict grabbed the makeup mirror that was stood on the vanity, rushed to the window and yanked open the drapes. 

_FUCK! It’s still dark as night out there! Wait – the reading lamp on the desk gives off stronger light._

He rushed over to the desk and switched on the reading lamp.  Benedict sat at the desk and carefully examined his hair underneath the bright light.

_Hells bells!  This isn’t my imagination or the lighting.  My hair is obviously motherfucking green!  What in the fuck am I going to do?  I look a fright!  There’s no way I can work looking like this._

Benedict pulled at his chin as he continued to stare at his reflection in disbelief as pure panic engulfed him. 

_I’ve been using the shampoo and conditioner that Claire recommended for dyed hair.  How in the hell did this happen then? My hair has been its natural colour for a while now. The producers are going to pitch a fit when they see me.   They’ll fucking sack me.  How can we film with my hair looking like this???  I need to tell Claire as soon as possible.  Maybe there’s something she can do to sort it out.  
_

Benedict quickly shaved, brushed his teeth and got dressed.  He called the front desk to have them ring Claire’s room but neither she nor her husband, Arwel Wyn-Jones were registered. 

_I’m such a tit.  Of course Claire’s not here in the hotel.  Why would she need a bloody room when she lives right here in Wales?  I have no way of contacting her, unless I ask Sue for her home number.  I'm certain Claire has already left to set up the makeup trailer at today’s base.  What am I going to do?_

Benedict sat on the bed, picked up his mobile and hit the speed dial for the number that meant the most to him.  There were three rings before Donna answered.

_“Hi Ben Honey! You’re up early.”_

“I hope I didn’t wake you, Love.”

_“Nope. Andrew and I were just on our way downstairs to hit the gym.  I was going to call you in a little while because I didn’t want to disturb your sleep.”_

“I’ve been up for ages.  I was so excited I woke up well before the alarms were set to go off and decided to go downstairs for a swim before breakfast.”

_“I detect a note of nervousness in your voice. Exercise is good for calming…”_

“You do not detect a note of nervousness – you detect a note of panic!  I’m not calm!  I’m anything but calm!  I’m motherfucking hysterical is what I am!” _  
_

_“Um…I can really hear that now, Honey.  I’ve never known you to be so...I don’t know…you sound almost upset.”  
_

“That’s because I AM FUCKING UPSET AS SHIT!”

_“What’s wrong?”_

“MY MOTHERFUCKING HAIR HAS TURNED GREEN!”

There was silence on the other end of the phone. 

“Donna?”

_“Please stop shouting, Benedict.  You’re hurting my ears.”_

“Sorry.” _  
_

_“Did you say your hair is green?”_

“YES!  I came back upstairs and took a shower. When I looked in the mirror to start shaving, I saw that I had fucking green hair!”

_“Exactly how green is it, Benedict?  Are you sure it’s really green?  Perhaps it’s the lighting in the room…sometimes those bathroom lights make things look off color.”_

Benedict sighed dramatically.  “Oh, for fucks sake!  Meet me on Skype and see for yourself then!”

 

**************************************************** 

 

Donna Saint James woke as usual and got ready to meet Andrew Scott in the hallway.  It was their routine to go downstairs to the building’s gym every other morning to workout unless one of them had an engagement.  As Donna was getting a bottle of water out of the refrigerator, there came a knock at her door.

_Andrew’s right on schedule!  I love that he’s always on time!_

“Morning, Darlin’!” chirped Andrew as Donna opened the door to find him dressed in his ratty workout clothes, holding a large bottle of water.  “Are you ready to hit the treadmill?”

“I am.  Let me just get my cellphone and keycard.”

As Donna began to pocket her cellphone, it began to ring.  “It’s Benedict,” she said to Andrew.  “He’s up bright and early today.”

“He probably has to be up early.  Makeup, hair and costuming all take time.”

“It’s also his first day of filming, so he must be excited.”

“Shall I go ahead of you then?  That way you can have some privacy.”

“No, that’s okay.  I’m sure he only wants to say hello.”

“Give him my best.”

“Hi Ben Honey!  You’re up early.”

Andrew wandered over to the wall of windows to look out at The Thames and lights along Southbank. It was still dark out that early in the morning, so there wasn’t all that much to see yet.

_I can’t wait for it to start getting lighter earlier…and warmer. This winter has been cold as fuck so far. I’m glad I’m not in any of the outdoor scenes. I don’t envy Ben being outside in this bone-chilling cold._

Andrew could hear Donna’s part of the conversation in the background.

“Nope. Andrew and I were just on our way downstairs to hit the gym.  I was going to call you in a little while because I didn’t want to disturb your sleep.”

Andrew left the windows and appraised the orchid plants that were set on the end tables and dining table. _These new orchids Stephen and I bought from Tesco are really thriving. It’s hard to tell them apart from the ones we bought at the flower shop.  
_

Donna’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

“I detect a note of nervousness in your voice.  Exercise is good for calming…”

_There’s nothing like exercise to calm the nerves and clear the head. Jolly good for Ben for getting his exercise in before heading out to filming.  Well done him.  
_

“Um…I can really hear that now, Honey.  I’ve never known you to be so...I don’t know…you sound almost upset.”

Andrew wandered into the kitchen area to check on those orchids.  _I wonder what’s gone wrong in Cardiff.  Perhaps more of the cast or crew has taken ill. I hope Ben didn’t have a relapse or come down with something else.  
_

“What’s wrong?”

Andrew turned to face Donna, who looked gob-smacked at whatever it was that Benedict was telling her.  She frowned as she held the cellphone away from her ear.  Andrew could hear his friend was shouting on the other end, but he couldn’t make out the words.   He fixed Donna with a quizzical look and mouthed: is everything alright?

Donna covered the mouthpiece of her cellphone.  “He said his hair turned green!”

It was Andrew’s turn to look gob-smacked.  “What the fuck?”

“If he’d only stop yelling, maybe I could make sense of what he’s saying.”

“How did his hair turn green?”

Donna shrugged as they both heard Benedict’s voice, which he had finally lowered somewhat.

_“Donna?”  
_

Donna held the phone to her ear again. “Please stop shouting, Benedict.  You’re hurting my ears.”

Andrew stood with hands on hips, waiting to hear more.   _I can’t imagine what he did to cause his hair to turn green!_

“Did you say your hair is green?” Donna asked.

Again, Donna covered the microphone before speaking to Andrew.  “He says he noticed it after he got out of the shower - when he was about to shave.”

“Is it green – as in grass green?” inquired Andrew.  “I recall him telling me how it turned green when they dyed it for the pilot.”

“Exactly how green is it, Benedict?  Are you sure it’s really green?  Perhaps it’s the lighting in the room…sometimes those bathroom lights make things look off color.”

Donna put her cellphone in her pocket and jogged across the room to the desk where her computer was.

“What did he say?” inquired Andrew.

“To meet him on Skype, so he can show me his hair.  It’s a good thing I’m always signed in.”

“I’d better go downstairs then, Darlin’…”

“Don’t be silly, Andrew, you’re his friend.  Besides aren’t you curious to see his hair?”

Andrew giggled.  “Of course I’m curious!  I can’t imagine Ben with green hair.”

Benedict’s Skype icon appeared on the screen and the chiming began to announce that he was calling.  Donna clicked on it and covered her mouth in horror, as Andrew stood beside her.  She heard an audible gasp and looked up briefly to see him, eyes wide and hand also covering his mouth.

“Good Morning,” growled Benedict.  “Now, do you believe me?”

Donna removed her hand so she could speak.  “Good fucking gravy! Your hair really _is_ green!”

“Holy Mother Mary!” exclaimed Andrew.  “You weren’t taking the piss!”

“No, as you can both see, something went terribly wrong during my shower.  Hi Andrew, sorry to interrupt your exercise routine; but I needed for Donna to see this.”

Andrew waved a hand at him.  “No, Ben, please don’t apologize…this is…I’ve never seen anything like that before.  It’s paramount that you get your hair sorted out as soon as possible.”

“I thought I was losing my bloody mind.  The last time this happened was right after I filmed _Van Gogh: Painted With Words_.  They had dyed my hair a brighter red and then when Claire dyed my hair black for the _Sherlock_ pilot, I wound up with a not-so-lovely shade of green!”

“You’re definitely not losing your mind. Your hair is a lovely shade of grayish green alright,” confirmed Andrew.  “It’s right obvious that.” 

“This is more like...split pea soup-coloured. Your hair was a different shade of green last time,” Donna pointed out.  “I think I’ve still got the photo on my cellphone that you sent me.”

“Claire had said it was a chemical reaction between the two brands of hair dye.”

“This has got to be something similar - some kind of chemical reaction to something you’re using,” said Donna.

“Obviously!” snapped Benedict.  “At least it’s not the same ghastly green as last time.”

“Who’s doing your hair this time?” asked Donna.  “You need to contact him or her right away!”

“Claire Pritchard - the same lady who did my makeup and hair for the pilot.”

“I'd go straight to base then.  Claire's bound to be in the trailer by now.  She'll know what to do,” suggested Andrew.

“Has anyone else seen you yet?” asked Donna.

“Thankfully, no; but the cast will be gathering for breakfast soon before the bus leaves for base.  I can’t even imagine Sue and Mark and Steve’s reactions – oh, and Beryl is also going to be present for the first day of filming!  What a terrible way to start off a gig!  What in the fuck am I going to do?” moaned Benedict. 

“Maybe Claire is still in her room,” said Donna.

“She’s not in a bloody room!” snarled Benedict.  “Claire lives here in Wales, so she'll be leaving for base from her home.”

“How would I know?  I assumed she lived in London and commuted,” said Donna, summoning all the patience she could muster. 

"Most of the crew live in Wales since that's where the studio is and most of the filming is also done," clarified Andrew.  "The BBC only needs to put them up in hotels when the  locations are beyond easy commuting distance, like London."

“Today is a location shoot, but it's right in Cardiff.  The crew always arrives at base much earlier than the cast so they have time to properly set up the lighting and cables and props that are needed for the scenes,” chimed in Benedict.

“The makeup trailer is probably already set up,” added Andrew.  “I remember Sue saying that the crew was going to use Sunday to get settled and amongst those things would be to get the makeup, wardrobe and canteen trailers organized.” 

“What am I going to do?” wailed Benedict.  “I look like a complete knob.”

“I just told you, Ben Honey.  You need to contact Claire, but you should first call Sue Vertue and let her know what happened.  She'll be able to get you over to where ever it is you'll be shooting today.”

“Don’t you have any ideas?  You always have some sort of solution in your bag of tricks – a wipe or lotion or potion – for fucks sake, Donna, I count on you to help me sort things out when they go wrong and this has gone horribly, horribly wrong!  I can’t believe you don’t have some sort of suggestion to help me!”

 _Be patient, Donna.  He’s very upset and has every right to be._ Donna took a deep breath and let it out.  “I don’t color my hair, Benedict; so I’m not familiar with caring for dyed hair.  Did you use shampoo and conditioner for color treated hair?”

“Yes!  I used exactly what Claire recommended.  I even bought the same brands to use at home!” Benedict replied petulantly.

“Did you bring them with you to Cardiff?  Because I know how much you like to use the complimentary hotel ones.”

“No, I must admit that I was tempted to use the hotel shampoo, which happens to smell lovely; but resisted the urge,” replied Benedict.  “I brought my own shampoo and conditioner from home, which is what I used last night and this morning after my swim.  I’m saving the ones that the maids leave to bring home.”

Donna thought for a moment.  “Alright, you need to address this ASAP.  Call Sue Vertue and tell her or just go down to the dining room and show her.”

“I can’t just sashay downstairs and parade around the dining room with pea green hair, _Sweetheart_!  People will laugh at me.  I look utterly ridiculous!”

 _And there he goes with the snotty version of sweetheart,_ thought Donna.

“You could wear a hat,” suggested Andrew.

“That’s a brilliant suggestion, Andrew, which has just given birth to an idea.  I’ll let you both know what happens.  Cheers!”

 

************************************************************************************************************************

 

Sue Vertue was sat at a square table in a private dining room with her husband, Mark Gatiss and her mother, Beryl Vertue.  They were in the midst of eating their breakfast when Sue’s mobile alerted her that she had a text message from Benedict Cumberbatch.

“Don’t tell me it’s the boys again,” laughed Steven, between forkfuls of scrambled eggs and smoked salmon.  “I wonder what they can’t find this time!”

“It’s not our sons, its Benedict,” said Sue with a worried look on her face.  “I hope he’s not sick again.  I don’t think I can deal with another bout of man flu.”

“He seemed fine last night at dinner,” declared Mark, sipping his coffee.

“I was sat next to Benedict last night and thought he still wasn't one hundred percent,” retorted Beryl.  “One has to take care to get enough rest when getting over the flu.”

Sue read the text:

**Please meet me in the lobby, near the gents.  It’s imperative that you come quickly and alone.  I can’t stress alone enough.  BC  
**

“Why are you frowning like that, Sue?” inquired Steven as he buttered a slice of white toast.

“Nothing…I hope.  It’s an odd message though,” Sue displayed her mobile so the others could read it.

“Shit!” muttered Mark, as he finished his porridge.  “Something must have gone wrong and this is the first day of filming!”

“Just what we don’t need – more problems,” scoffed Steven as he took a bite of his toast.  “We’ve got enough people out sick.”

“Go see what it is, Love,” said Beryl between bites of a croissant.  “It may be nothing.”

“From your mouth to the Production God’s ears, Mum!” Sighed Sue, getting up and leaving the dining room.

 

*******************************************************

 

Benedict had carefully tucked all of his hair underneath a knit wool cap that he pulled down over his ears before daring to venture out of his hotel room.  The entire floor had been booked for the _Sherlock_ cast and some of the out-of-town crew, and Benedict was thankful that he only had to worry about the cast seeing him in this state.  He silently cursed himself for requesting a room as far from the lift as possible.  Now, he was paying for the seemingly never-ending walk down the carpeted hallway.  Benedict sighed with relief that the lift had arrived empty and he remained the sole occupant on the ride down to the lobby.

As he exited the lift, Benedict’s ice blue eyes swept the lobby. Fortunately, he didn’t spy anyone associated with the show.  No one else paid any mind to him for which he was grateful.  Benedict quickly made his way down the deserted hallway where the restrooms were located away from the lobby’s hustle and bustle and waited for Sue Vertue to find him.  Benedict didn’t have long to wait, as two minutes later, a harried-looking Sue rounded the corner and approached him.  She was dressed in jeans, a heavy fisherman knit jumper and work boots with heavy socks.

“Morning Ben, why the text and clandestine meeting place?”

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck as he glanced warily over her head in the direction of the lobby.  “I didn’t fancy anyone from the show seeing me in this state.”

“Everyone’s either gone to base or is having their breakfast in the dining room.  What’s wrong?”

Benedict bit his lower lip and looked pained.  “Promise not to laugh?”

“What in the hell is going to make me laugh?  I really hope this is a joke..”

“Believe me – this is no joke.  I wish it were, but it isn’t. Now, please promise me you won’t laugh.”

“Yes, I promise - cross my heart,” said Sue, crossing her chest.  “There’s nothing you can’t tell me.”

“Alright then.  I’m going to show you…here goes.”  Benedict peeled the knit cap off his head in one fluid motion, exposing his greenish-grey curls under the harsh fluorescent lighting of the hallway.

Sue appeared completely stunned as she clapped a hand over her mouth and her eyes widened in disbelief at what was she was seeing – the star of her new show stood before her with hair that had a definite dull-green tinge to it.

“I honestly don’t know how this could have happened…” began Benedict, rubbing his neck again.  “I noticed it when I went to shave.”

“Oh my fucking God!” was all Sue could say.  Then she began to titter and then laugh.

“It’s not funny!”

“No, it’s not, really; but I don’t think I’ve ever encountered a problem such as this!”

“Did you forget what happened when Claire dyed my hair for the pilot?”

Sue nodded and laughed harder.  “Oh, my!  I nearly forgot about that!  Now that was really screaming green.  This is a bit more subtle, but you can’t miss it!” 

“What are we going to do?” Benedict cried in frustration. “You certainly can’t film me wearing this bloody hat all day.”

Sue Vertue stopped laughing. “No, but I can call for a driver; and we can head out for base now; so Claire can assess the damage.”

 

 

After surprising the wardrobe assistant with their early arrival, Benedict had collected his costume and retreated into his section of the 3-way trailer that served as dressing rooms for himself, Martin and Mark.  It took him a few minutes to don Sherlock’s outfit for the morning’s shoot.  After covering up with a warm, quilted black parka that reached down below his knees, he and Sue made their way to the large trailer that served as the makeup and hair department.

The pair carefully climbed the four slick steps leading to the entrance. Sue was stood on the top step and opened the door to the makeup trailer with Benedict anxiously perched on the second behind her.  The large, long space was amply heated and had been set up with four work stations for the makeup artists.  When you first walked in, there was cushioned bench and a table for those waiting along with space to hang coats. The walls were lined with plenty of shelves, cabinets and counter-space to store supplies and display the wigs being used for the episode. There was a large, flat-screen TV mounted high on the wall and a radio so they could have music. 

About two-thirds of the way down, you took a step up to a slightly elevated area that contained the shampoo station in one corner.  The opposite corner had been set up as a kitchen area, complete with small refrigerator, microwave, induction kettle and coffee maker.  Ceramic mugs hung on pegs on the wall above the microwave.  There was even a small washer and towel warmer.  Benedict marveled how every square inch was put to good use.  The best feature was the windows, opposite the stations, which allowed in natural light.

The women who worked in the trailer were all busy at their stations, preparing for their actor clients to arrive.  There was also an intern named Tuppence, who was folding and stacking clean towels above the sink. Her main function was to do the shampooing, constantly tidy up the space, wash and dry the towels, monitor the supplies and serve as a runner when needed. 

“Claire’s going to throw a fit when she sees me. Is there anyone else in there?” Benedict loudly whispered from behind Sue.

“No, just the girls,” replied Sue.  “And I’m certain they’ve all seen worse than this.  Now, let’s soldier on, shall we?”  She stepped into the warmth of the trailer and smiled as she announced their presence. “My, that heat feels splendid! Good Morning, ladies, I know it’s early; but Benedict’s got a bit of a problem for Claire to sort out.”

Claire Pritchard-Jones was at her station near the back of the trailer, laying out the various combs and brushes she would need to do Benedict’s makeup and hair.  She looked up and smiled at Sue and Benedict.

“Good Morning! There’s nothing like a challenge straight off,” she laughed.  “What can I do to be of help?” 

Benedict and Sue removed their coats and hung them on the coatrack near the entrance before approaching Claire’s station.  There were close-up photographs of Benedict and Louise Brealey made-up as Sherlock and Molly Hooper taken at various angles that were taped to the perimeter of the large mirror.  These photographs served as references for Claire so she could recreate the proper looks for the characters makeup and hair.  Martin’s makeup artist, Sarah Astley, had similar photos of him and Mark Gatiss taped to her mirror as well.

“It’s Benedict’s hair I’m afraid,” began Sue worriedly.

“Something’s gone terribly wrong with it,” Benedict added, whilst rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Have a seat, Benedict; and let me have a look,” said Claire, standing behind the chair as he sat down and looked at her through the mirror.

“First, promise me that you won’t laugh,” he said with a serious face.  “There are those who find my…situation quite funny.”

Claire noticed that Sue had begun to giggle. 

“I swear I won’t laugh, Benedict,” said Claire solemnly.  “I’ve seen quite a few surprising things in my day.”

“That’s what I said,” snickered Sue. 

“Oh, for fucks sake!”  Benedict huffed and removed the hat to reveal his hair, which looked even greener in the lighting of the truck.

Benedict immediately felt all the eyes in the makeup trailer upon him.  There were gasps and giggles as the women gawked at his hair.

“Bloody hell!  His hair’s turned green!” exclaimed Tuppence in horror.

“That it has,” confirmed Sue, getting hold of herself.  “And it poses a major problem being we have to begin shooting in just under two hours and need Sherlock to have dark hair.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong!  I followed your instructions to the letter, Claire!” Benedict blurted out.

“Did you use the shampoo and conditioner that the hotel set out?”

“No.  Even though I was sorely tempted, I only used the products you recommended for dyed hair.   I feel so awful after you spent so much time yesterday afternoon giving Mark and me that lovely, new colour.  I can’t imagine what could have happened.”

“It’s definitely a different chemical reaction from the first time I coloured your hair,” said Claire as she ran her fingers through his Benedict’s hair and inspected his scalp.  Martin’s hair makeup artist, Sarah, came to stand alongside Claire to have a closer look.

“Are you fond of swimming, Benedict?” asked Claire.

“Yes.  I quite like swimming.  I try and swim most every day.”

“Did you swim yesterday after I did your colour?”

“Yeah.  I used the hotel pool after dinner last night and then again this morning.  Why?”

Claire and Sarah’s eyes met in the mirror and they nodded silent confirmation to each other.

“Not to worry, we’ve seen this happen before,” said Claire to Benedict and Sue.

“Definitely,” agreed Sarah.  “This isn’t the first time this has happened, and it won’t be the last.”

“When you swim in chlorinated water, the level of chlorine can sometimes cause a chemical reaction with the hair dye, thus causing it to turn this greenish-gray colour.  This is a prime example of what happens,” explained Claire touching Benedict’s curls.  “It’s a very common thing, but the good news is that I can easily correct it.”

Sue breathed a great sigh of relief.  “Thank God! Will this take long to do?” she inquired, glancing at the clock on the wall.  “As I said, we’ve got less than two hours before he has to be on set.”

Claire patted Benedict on the shoulder reassuringly as she addressed Sue. “Not at all.  I promise that he’ll be ready to go in time for his call, so you can sit back, have a coffee and relax.”

“Does this mean I have to forego swimming until filming’s over?” asked Benedict worriedly.

“Not at all,” replied Claire with a smile.  “I’m going to let you in on my secret remedy; so you won’t have to worry about your hair going green on your ever again.”

“Alright then.  I’ll leave you to it,” said Sue briskly.  “I’ll go check on the crew and see how everything’s coming along.  I’m sure they’ll be overjoyed to see me so early.”

Once Sue had left the trailer, Claire wrapped a towel around Benedict’s neck and added a cape to keep his costume clean. 

“Fancy some music, Benedict?”

“No.  I’m not in the mood for music,” he replied.  “I think I’ll just have a read of the paper.”

“Paper it is,” said Claire.  “Tuppence, would you please see if you can find a copy of the morning paper for Benedict to read after I apply his colour.”

“I’m so sorry, Claire,” said Benedict.  “I had no idea something like this could happen.  I utterly freaked out when I had a look at myself in the mirror and saw that my hair had gone green.”

“It’s all fine, Benedict.  I’m just glad you got here early so I have time to fix it.”

“Will it take long?  Are you going to have to do the colour all over again?”

“No. The fix is quite simple and will take all of thirty minutes.  I’ll be right back.”

Benedict watched Claire through the mirror as she opened one of the cabinets behind him and removed something from it. 

_It looks like she’s using a can opener on a tin of something.  What in the hell is she doing?_

Claire returned to her station carrying an open tin of condensed tomato soup.  “Have you eaten breakfast, Benedict?” She asked as she opened one of her drawers and extracted a medium-sized paint brush and plastic cap.

“No.  I was too busy rushing about like a loon to even think of food. How kind of you to think of me; but I really don’t fancy having any tomato soup this early in the day.”

“Heavens no!” Claire laughed.  “The tomato soup isn’t for you to eat – it’s for your hair!  Tuppence will go out later on to buy a large squeeze bottle of ketchup for you to use on your hair.”

“Bloody hell! Ketchup? But, you’re using tomato soup on my hair now.”

Claire began to section and ‘paint’ the soup onto his hair before working it in with her hands.   “Soup is what we’ve got on hand.  Ketchup, tomato sauce or juice will also do.  I think the ketchup would be the easiest to work with for you.”

“What caused it to go green in the first place?  I’ve had my hair dyed before and have gone swimming without this happening.”

“Do you always swim in pools?”

“No.  I usually swim in the ponds at Hampstead Heath when the weather’s nice.  When it’s cold I resort to the indoor pool at the health club I belong to.”

“It’s partially to blame on this particular brand of hair dye then.  The hard metals found in water adhere to the hair.  The chlorine in the pool water oxidizes these metals, which give the hair that distinct greenish colour.”

“I had no idea something like that could happen.”

“It happens more often than you think, Benedict.  Blonde hair is most susceptible. Anyway, there are some surprisingly tasty lemon blueberry muffins in the canteen with crumbs on top.  Shall I send Tuppence over to get you one?”

“Yes, that sounds lovely. Thank you. Perhaps a yoghurt as well if they have any.”

“Any particular flavour?  I think I spotted strawberry, vanilla and plain.”

“The strawberry will do.”

“Do you fancy a coffee or tea?”

“I think a builder’s tea on this cold morning with milk and two sugars would hit the spot.”

Claire addressed the intern.  “Tuppence, would you be a love and get Benedict one of those brilliant lemon blueberry muffins and a strawberry yoghurt.  I’ll tend to the tea.  Luckily, we have the resources to make our own coffees and tea in here.”

Tuppence nodded and headed out to go to the trailer that served as the canteen when on location.  Meanwhile, Benedict watched Claire as she donned disposable plastic gloves and worked the soup through his hair. 

“May I ask why it has to be a tomato product?”

“It doesn’t have to be – there are other remedies – but I find the tomato is highly acidic and cuts through the oxidation to neutralize the green in the hair. There!  We’re almost done.”

“Am I going to have to do this myself?”

Claire removed the gloves, covered Benedict’s hair with a plastic cap and set a timer for thirty minutes.  She leaned back against the station and handed him the morning’s paper to read.

“As long as your hair is dyed and you continue to swim in chlorinated water, there is the chance that it’ll happen again.  If you start to see tinges of the green again, apply the ketchup or whatever tomato product you’ve got on hand to clean, dry hair.  I suggest ketchup as that’s what most people already have on hand.  After you work it through your hair, wrap your head in cling film or put on a shower cap and leave on for thirty minutes.  If it’s really green, then I recommend sleeping in it overnight.”

“Ugh.  That sounds awful! I’ll smell like a fucking tomato!”

Claire smiled with amusement at Benedict. “No, Benedict, I promise you won’t,” she reassured him.  “When the wait time is over, just shampoo and condition as usual; and no one will be the wiser – just like no one on set will know what happened in here this morning.  By the time the other actors come in, I’ll be twisting and diffusing your signature Sherlock curls. This will remain our little secret.”

 

 

Friday morning Benedict Cumberbatch awoke from a fitful sleep, drenched in sweat and wheezing. The filming had already fallen behind schedule, so he was back on the call sheet for most of the day and into the evening, which he prayed would not stretch into a long night shoot.  Benedict willed himself to sit up.  His body was immediately wracked by a violent coughing fit. He sat there, hugging himself and coughed violently until he spat up a large wad of green phlegm into a tissue and tossed the used tissue into the waste bin that he had moved beside the bed.  The balled up tissue landed on the pile of already discarded tissues that Benedict had used during the night and landed on the floor instead.

_Bloody motherfucking hell!  I feel like utter shit this morning!  I feel like I can’t breathe, and my chest hurts when I cough._

Benedict tried to draw a deep breath, which caused him to start coughing all over again.  When the fit was over, he flopped back down and immediately sat up again as the dampness touched his clammy skin. 

_For fucks sake! The sheets are wet from my sweating again – just like last night!  This room must be too damn hot.  I was sweating all night long.  I need to turn down the heat. Haha!  Donna would be amused to hear that as she’s the one who’s always hot.  I’m never hot at night…not even in the summer._

Benedict swung his legs over the side of the king-sized bed and sat there for a couple of minutes as his head swam from being congested.  He could feel fluid in his ears as well.

_I need a hot shower.  The steam will clear all this muck up.  I need to function today – I’m going to be outside in the rail yard with Martin and then after a short break; we’ll be filming in that tunnel. I’m glad it gets dark so early so with any luck, I can still catch the last train back to London.  If that doesn’t work, then I’ll take the first train out and sleep then.  I think I’ll pack up my gear and take it with me; so I’m ready to leave straight from set._

Benedict doubled over as he was seized by another coughing fit that brought up even more phlegm than he had spit up the first time.  He noticed that his chest had begun to hurt whenever he had to cough, which was becoming more and more frequent.  He blew his stuffy nose and copious amounts of green mucus filled three tissues.  Disgusted, Benedict tossed them onto the heap of soiled tissues, which just rolled onto the floor.  He bent down and tried to make room in the waste bin by pushing the tissues down with his fist.

_I knew I was starting to get sick again Tuesday night, when we got snowed in that fucking morgue.  I can’t deny it any longer…something’s surely amiss._

The bedside clock showed that it was half five.  The call sheet showed that he was needed in make up at half seven for a nine o’clock start time.

_I don’t think I’m up to going down to the dining room this morning or having a swim.  First, I’ve got to cool this motherfucking room off.  Then I think a hot shower and something light to eat is in order.  I’ll call room service and get some porridge and tea sent up.  
_

Benedict shoved his feet into his slippers and got to his feet.  The fluid in his ears was causing him to feel a bit unsteady.  As his nose began to drip again, Benedict grabbed the last of the tissues and blew heartily into it.  Unfortunately, the tissue wasn’t strong enough, leaving him with a handful of snot.  The empty tissue box sat empty as if mocking him.  This time Benedict impatiently tossed the clump onto the floor.

_DAMN!  I need more motherfucking tissues!  I’d better ask housekeeping to bring me several boxes and another bin liner or two.  I can’t believe how much gunk is coming out of me!  
_

He quickly washed his face and stared at his reflection in the mirror.  His eyes were bloodshot and had dark circles underneath; his nose was red and crusty and his lips dry and chapped from mouth breathing _.  
_

_Don’t I look a fright?  Claire will have her work cut out for her this morning.  So far she’s done a brilliant job at making me look hale and hearty, bless her.  
_

Benedict left the bathroom and crossed the room to check the climate control.

_To think that I was consumed with chills when I went to bed, funny that.  I must have gotten up and made it too hot during the night and don’t remember doing it.  I was so knackered when I got back from filming._

Benedict inspected the control and was shocked to see that he had set the temperature on twenty-one degrees and that it remained there.

_Hmmm…it’s not hot in here at all.  It’s me.  Christ, I’m becoming like Donna.  I suppose I’m starting to fancy it cooler at night…or is it because I’m…  
_

_No.  I’m not.  
_

_Yes, you are, Benedict.  You know you are.  
_

_No.  I was feeling cold when I got back from filming outdoors and standing around in that frigid water and called housekeeping for the two extra blankets.  Even Martin said he was chilled to the bone and was going to ring for extra blankets.  
_

_Stop denying it, Benedict.  You were back in the hotel for a couple of hours before you rang housekeeping for the blankets.  You had plenty of time to warm up.  You had a hote bath and were wearing flannel pyjamas and those toasty warm sleep socks Donna bought you.  You had the chills.  
_

_I had the chills because I’m fucking sick with a relapse of the motherfucking flu is what I am.  
_

_Can I get it again?  
_

_I suppose anything is possible. I’ve caught back-to-back colds; so I guess I could be having a relapse of the flu.  I’ve been dashing about like a loon, leaping around and having a grand old time playing Sherlock.  I’ve allowed myself to become run down…I’m beyond knackered…I’m exhausted.  I feel like I could climb back into that fucking damp bed and sleep for an age.  
_

_I’m sick again, well done me. Fuck it!  
_

Benedict picked up the heavy flannel pyjamas that he had taken off during the course of the night.  The top was on the foot of the bed, whilst the bottoms had wound up on the floor.  They were all wet from his sweating.  His discarded sleep socks were on one of the nightstands. Suddenly, Benedict began to shiver uncontrollably.  He hugged himself and felt his teeth chattering.

_That’s what I get for walking around half-naked in just my pants.  I need to pull myself together.  It’s paramount that I show up on set ready to work today and give them my best. Unclogging the congestion is my primary concern. The shower – that’s what I need to do first.  I need to take a frightfully hot shower that’s going to steam up that fucking bathroom and loosen up all this green gunk that’s in my chest.  Then I’ll pop a couple of paracetamols with a glass of orange juice, have some hot tea and I’m certain I’ll feel better.  I must remember to take the bottle with me. I forgot them yesterday, and my fucking head was pounding. Hopefully, there will be some sort of hot soup in the canteen trailer.  
_

However, the shower didn’t work as well as Benedict had hoped in reducing his symptoms.  By the time he got himself together, he found he still felt exhausted and yearned to return to the bed for a lie down.  After eating a bit of his breakfast, which he had to force down; he briefly called Donna on his mobile to say good morning and that he was looking forward to coming home either that night or the next morning.  He was missing her terribly and looking forward to being with her again.

Despite all the fun he had been having that week; Benedict Cumberbatch couldn’t wait for the day’s filming to end so he could take the first train from Cardiff back to London that he could get. 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I have no idea what the Sherlock filming routine is like when in Cardiff or on location, so this is completely fictitious.
> 
> 2\. I'm fairly certain that most of the crew would have to live in Cardiff; so in this universe they do. 
> 
> 3\. The tomato soup incident is a true story and one that I've been looking forward to writing about. My research is taken from various interviews that were given and from incidents mentioned in The Great Game Commentary transcript made by the lovely Ariane Devere. 
> 
> 4\. I've never had pneumonia, thankfully; so I'm taking many of Benedict's symptoms from on-line medical sites. 
> 
> 5\. The first photo is a great photo-shopped photo of Benedict with green hair that I found doing an on-line search.
> 
> 6\. The photos of the makeup trailer are all taken from various seasons of Sherlock. The one with the birthday decorations was for Benedict's 40th birthday last year.


	174. Chapter 174

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friday night holds double disappointments for Donna. Benedict returns to London and can no longer hide his illness.
> 
> Warning: The chapter contains graphic descriptions of pneumonia symptoms. If easily grossed out, feel free to skip this chapter.
> 
> Note: I’ll be using *************** for things happening at the same time.

 

 

Friday night Donna Saint James sat at her computer in her London apartment, chatting with her sister-in-law, Scarlett, on Skype.  Scarlett was seated behind her desk in Toni Saint James’ law firm.  It was just past two in the afternoon in New York and Donna had received an email to call her precisely at two. 

“Well, here I am – right on time,” said Donna.  “What’s up?” 

Scarlett glanced off camera.  “This!”  She beckoned to someone off screen and moved back from the desk.  “Come see Aunt Donna and show her your dresses.”  

Donna grinned as her two and half-year old twin nieces, Melissa and Melanie tottered into view.   They were wearing flower girl dresses that Donna had seen online.  

“Say hi to Aunt Donna,” coaxed Scarlett.  “Don’t look at Mommy, look at Aunt Donna!” 

“Hi Aunt Donna,” the girls said in unison.  They moved closer to the computer screen and reached out to touch it.

 “Can you see everything, Donna?  They’re always fascinated with seeing you on TV.” 

“Yes!  You guys look so… pretty!” exclaimed Donna, making eyes at her sister-in-law.  “The dresses look _a lot_ different than they did online.” _And not in a good way!  Ugh!_

“Twirl around please, girls; so Aunt Donna can see the back,” instructed Scarlett with an eye roll to Donna.  “Don’t they look _adorable_ , Donna?” 

_NO!  They look like they’re being smothered in all that material and aren’t happy about it either.  I don’t understand how something can look so pretty online and be so…fucking ugly in person!  
_

“Good gravy!  I didn’t see the back online.  There’s so much…stuff. Can they even sit?” 

“Come and sit on Mommy’s lap,” suggested Scarlett, patting her lap for the twins to sit.  They had trouble scrambling up due to all the material and kept sliding off.  “I’d say the answer is no, but at least they’re having fun on the Mommy Slide.” 

“I don’t like this dress,” blurted out Melissa.  “All the stuff on it scratches me!  I don’t want to wear it.” 

“It’s not a pretty dress,” added Melanie with a pout.  “It itches and scratches!” 

“See, out of the mouths of babes. I think those dresses have too much bling,” came Toni’s voice from off screen.  “I like the ones you picked out at Vera Wang’s, Muffin.” 

“What do you think, Scarlett?” 

“To be honest, Donna, the dresses are very…” 

“They’re too poufy, Muffin.  The girls are lost in them,” continued Toni, moving into view.  “The poor little lambs can barely move around in them.” 

_I can see that, Mom.  I can also see that there are two three-year olds glaring daggers at me.  
_

“It does appear that way,” agreed Donna.  “I don’t…” 

“Can we take this off now?” whined Melissa. 

“I don’t like this dress, Mommy!” interjected Melanie.  “I don’t want to wear it.” 

“I want to wear my Minnie Mouse dress, Aunt Donna!” continued Melissa. 

“Please can we?” begged Melanie. 

“Hush, girls!” whispered Scarlett.  “Aunt Donna will need some time to think about what she wants.” 

“Aunt Donna loves Minnie Mouse!” said Melanie. 

“Aunt Donna bought us these dresses!” added Melissa. 

“It’s too soon to buy them dresses, Donna,” continued Toni.  “Remember, they will have grown more by December.  You need to buy their dresses in November – it won’t be hard to find something to compliment the bridal party.” 

“I never thought I’d be saying this; but I don’t like them,” declared Donna with a laugh. “I absolutely HATE them!”  

“Yea!” cried the twins joyfully in unison.  

“Can we wear our Minnie Mouse dresses, Aunt Donna?” Persisted Melissa. 

“Pleeeeaaasssse, Aunt Donna!” whined Melanie. 

_Minnie Mouse would look far better than those dresses_.  “I have a feeling you guys will be much bigger by the time my wedding rolls around,” said Donna.  “So I’ll probably fly in for a weekend, and we can all go flower girl dress shopping together.” 

“It’s a good thing I didn’t cut the tags off,” laughed Scarlett.  “I’ll return them tomorrow.” 

“Are you two ready to get out of these awful dresses and back into your comfy clothes and go say goodbye to your Daddy?” Toni asked her granddaughters.  The twins nodded eagerly and Toni took them by the hands.  “I’ll call you tomorrow, Muffin.  Dad and I have an opening tonight; so I have to rush.” 

“What are you seeing?” 

“Shakespeare - Off Broadway.” 

_Mom’s not a huge Shakespeare fan.  I’m surprised she didn’t offer her ticket to Grandpa Colin – provided he was up to going.  Maybe she did, and he declined._

“I thought you weren’t keen on Shakespeare.  You always let Grandpa go in your place whenever Daddy has one of the Bard’s plays to review.” 

“Well, this is one I don’t want to miss. It’s being billed as an avant garde version of Romeo and Juliet set in outer space circa nineteen-sixty...and it's a musical to boot!"

Donna burst out laughing. “With that synopsis, I wouldn’t miss it for the world!”

"Your father’s been looking forward to it all week.” 

“So he can rip it to shreds no doubt,” snickered Scarlett, kissing her daughters goodbye.  “Daddy and I will be home soon, and we’ll go out for pizza with Grandpa Colin.” 

“Too bad Grandpa isn’t taking your place.  That sounds right up his alley," Donna said to her mother.

"Pa saw it two days prior to his heart attack. Your father had gotten him two tickets to one of the previews, so he invited his pal, Nigel, to go along with him.  It reminded them of Shakespeare performed on board the Starship Enterprise in mod-garb; complete with tunes from the 1960's. They proclaimed it a right corker, and said twice that the lovely Wanda Ventham would have made a splendid Juliet back in the day.  Now, how can I resist seeing something like that?"

“I look forward to hearing your comments and reading Dad’s review,” laughed Donna. “I’m sure he won’t disappoint me.” 

Toni smiled.  “It sounds like Dad and I are going to have a giggle-fest just from reading the previews.  He loves nothing more than opening nights of something he’s not anticipating enjoying.”

"Just one more question:  Why didn't Grandpa take Mrs. Baum?"

"Didn't he tell you, Sweet Pea?" asked Scarlett.  "Colin and Mrs. Baum are history."

"Since when?" demanded a shocked Donna. "They got along so well."

"He broke up with her right after your engagement party," replied Toni.

"I'm always the last one to know these things!" declared Donna.  "Why didn't someone think to tell me?"

"I thought Pa was going to tell you himself," said Toni.

"Is he seeing someone else?" asked Donna.

"We don't know for sure," replied Scarlett.  "He's being very mysterious about the whole thing.  All he said to Kenny and me was that it was time to move on."

"Dad and I are convinced he's met someone at the British Society," added Toni. "I had gone downstairs to bring Pa a fresh batch of scones I had just baked and caught him on the phone one afternoon.  He had it on the speaker feature, and I definitely heard an English accent and much giggling."

"He denies that he's got a new girlfriend," laughed Scarlett.  "Kenny's been teasing him about it."

"All I know is someone sent Pa a get well bouquet, but he's hidden the card," said Toni.  "He was napping when they arrived; so I signed for the flowers and brought them down to him."

"Maybe it was Uncle Rodney and Aunt Bea?"

"They had already sent flowers when he was in the hospital. We'll keep you posted if we find anything out," Toni assured her. 

“Good gravy!  I'm so curious to find out more!"

"We all are, Muffin. I promise that you'll be one of the first to know if we find out the lady's identity."

"Okay.  We’ll talk more tomorrow,” said Donna.  She smiled at the twins. “Bye, bye, you two!  Thank you for modeling those dresses for me. Love you!”  She blew the twins a kiss. 

The twins blew kisses back to Donna and preceded Toni out of the office. Scarlett and Donna regarded each other and burst out laughing.  

“Crap. Those dresses are hideous. I hate it when she’s right!” moaned Donna, leaning back in her chair.  

“Don’t I know it!”  Giggled Scarlett.  “Those dresses were so damn ugly, Sweet Pea!” 

“The girls looked like they were swallowed up by one of those shower poofs!  Melly looked so pissed off!  She wouldn’t even look at me.  It was funny how they managed to voice their opinions.  They hated those dresses a as much as everyone else.” 

“Oh, they weren’t happy – that’s for sure.  They fussed a lot when Mom and I were helping them get into them.  Lissa kept bitching about how scratchy they were.  Mom and I had all to do but to keep a straight face.” 

“They looked so nice online!  Thank you for buying them and having the girls model them.” 

“I was glad to do it, and I’ll be even happier to return them.  Your nieces will also be happy that they don’t have to wear them.” 

“Who’s minding them?  Please don’t tell me they’re hanging out in the office.” 

“Mom’s taking them home for me. Dad’s been working from home all day, keeping an eye on Grandpa Colin. I think everyone is still hesitant to leave him alone for long periods of time.” 

“How’s he feeling?” 

“Much better!  I can’t believe how quickly Colin’s bounced back.  He's been cleared to resume his walking and is chomping at the bit to return to the club because he's bored just sitting around.” 

_I always liked how Scarlett and Steve address my parents as ‘Mom’ and ‘Dad’.  That’s something I’m sure Benedict will never do once we’re married.  They will always be Neil and Antonia to him…or worse.  I wonder if Wanda and Tim expect me to continue calling them by their first names after we’re married.  The only way I’ll ever know is to ask them...though at times they seem more like my business partners or should I say partners in crime.  Sometimes I have all to do to keep from calling Wanda ‘Commander’. Tim kills me whenever he calls her that._

“Scarlett, am I seeing things or are you and Mom wearing jeans in the office?” 

“No you are not. Today the law firm of Mangano and Saint James was pleased to hold its first ever casual Friday,” announced Scarlett.  “Jeans are now allowed; but no shorts, sweatsuits or sneakers.” 

“Wow!  I’m floored.  What did Popi say about that?  He always dressed up in the office before he became a judge.  I remember that he wore a dress shirt and tie even if he wasn’t going to court.” 

“Then hold onto your hat because I’ve got a big surprise for you, Sweet Pea.  Carmine often wears jeans underneath his robe in the court room!  He says that change is good.” 

“Since when?” demanded an incredulous Donna. 

“Serafina says it’s been going on for a while now.  He actually inspired Kenny and Roy to push the issue with Mom.  The staff has been complaining that they’re tired of dressing up every day for years now. It makes sense when you think about it:  Only the attorneys go to court and not every day.  They only need to be dressed up when we have clients come in.  I’m thrilled as could be.” 

“I never thought I’d see the day.” 

“Well, we do have one who still shows up dressed to the nines every day,” giggled Scarlett.  “Care to guess who that might be?” 

“I don’t have to guess.  I know. Roy's wife.  So, how is my ex-fiancé, Roy, doing these days?” 

“He’s proving to be a crackerjack trial lawyer.  Mom says his future is bright.  I predict he’ll become a partner in the future.” 

“I figured as much.  How’s his workaholic wife?” 

“Eight months pregnant and determined to work up until her due date.” 

“Ha!  I can’t believe he actually managed to make time for that!” Chortled Donna. 

“People change, Sweet Pea. Priorities change.” 

“Yeah, I guess we all change.” 

“When does Benedict return from Wales?” asked Scarlett. 

“He sent me a text that they wrapped filming much quicker than expected, and he was catching the six twelve train from Cardiff; so he should be able get a cab and be here by nine forty-five. Normally, he’d take the tube; but you wouldn’t believe all the frigging luggage he took!  He makes me look like I pack light.” 

“So they work a full day on Fridays?” 

“They work as many hours as it takes to get the scenes right.  They work some very long hours,” replied Donna.  “I scarcely had any time to talk to him this week.  Just some brief text messages while he was waiting for them to set up shots.  It seems they do a lot of waiting around on set.  By the time they get back to the hotel and have dinner, it’s late; so all he wants to do is study his lines for the next day and get some sleep.” 

“Speaking of work, I’ve got a brief to finish; and I’m sure you have what to do as well.” 

“I’ve got a column to write, and I promised Grandpa that I’d Skype with him later.  I'm going to ask him about what went down with Mrs. Baum."

"Good luck with that.  He won't say a word, trust me."

"I have to give it a try."

"I applaud your tenacity."

"You were going to say nosiness."

"No!  I swear I wasn't, Sweet Pea...though I might have been thinking it just a little," laughed Scarlett.

Donna began to laugh.  "You know me well, sister-in-law! Well, I'm going to give it a try; and then I’m going to make a nice dinner for Benedict’s homecoming.” 

“What’s on the menu?” 

“I’ve got bacon-wrapped filet mignons; twice-baked, loaded potatoes; sautéed mushrooms in butter and sherry; roasted asparagus with lemon zest and Parmigiano reggiano and an expensive bottle of red wine to celebrate.” 

“Oh, Honey, I’m sure the food won’t matter all that much to him since he hasn’t seen you in a week.”  Scarlett gave Donna a suggestive wink. 

“That’s what I’m counting on!” 

“You didn’t mention what the dessert course was.” 

“I’m the dessert course. I’ve bought a jar of chocolate body paint and a new, sexy nighty for his welcome home.” 

“Have fun and take care, Sweet Pea.  Send Ben our love, and we’ll all Skype soon.” 

“You can count on it.  Give Kenny my love.” 

 

****************************************************

  

“Paddington Station!  Last stop!” called out the train conductor as he made his way through the carriage. 

Benedict opened his eyes and blinked as he got his bearings.  It seemed as if he had only just boarded the train and taken his seat in Cardiff.  He yawned, which turned into a hacking cough, accompanied by a searing pain in his chest.  

“I’d have that cough checked if I were you, Mate,” said the conductor as he left the carriage. 

_Shit!  I slept the whole way back.  I should be feeling refreshed; but I’m not. Christ, my eyes are burning and I feel so fucking hot. I feel like I can’t quite catch my breath.  I think I’ll just take a cab back to Hampstead rather than brave the tube and having to do a change.  I just want to crawl into my own bed.  I’m sure Donna will understand if I beg off tonight.  
_

Benedict took the lift up to where the cab rank was and directed the driver to take him to Hampstead.  As he sat in the back seat, coughing, he rang Donna on his mobile.  She answered immediately. 

**_“Hi Handsome!  Where are you?”_**

“In a cab on my way home.  I wasn't up to navigating the tube with all this fucking luggage. ” 

There was a pause. 

**_“You're on your way home to me you mean,”_ ** Donna said carefully. 

“No.  I’ve decided to go back to my flat.  I’m so utterly knackered that I just want to sleep, Darling.  I hope you’re not angry with me; but I just need to be alone so I can decompress and shake off Sherlock.” 

There was a pause. 

_Oh, oh.  She’s not pleased with me. Fuckity fuck fuck. I bet she’s gone and prepared a special dinner for me.  I’ve no appetite whatsoever, and I’m hacking and coughing up all this shit – not to mention my nose is running like a broken faucet.  I’m so sick and exhausted that all I fancy doing is sleeping and stopping this motherfucking cough.  Christ, my chest hurts. I’ll make it up to her tomorrow. I’m sure after a proper night’s rest, I’ll be up to having Donna over – mentally and physically.  
_

**_“That’s okay.  I understand, Ben Honey.”_**

_Thank God!  If she called me Ben Honey, then she’s not pissed off at me.  
_

“I hope you didn’t go through a lot of trouble on my account.” 

**_“I was just planning on having steak.  We can eat them tomorrow.”_ ** _  
_

“Why don’t you come up to Hampstead first thing tomorrow and plan on spending the weekend here.  I don’t really fancy going out anywhere…” 

_Because I’m stick as a dog right now, and just want to die.  Hopefully, I’ll feel better tomorrow._

**_“We don’t have to go anywhere, Benedict.  You’ve been working hard all week, so it’s your choice.”_**

“We can hang around my flat and cuddle by the fire whilst we have a proper catch up and perhaps cook something tasty together for dinner.  I do love it when we create a nice meal and sit down to enjoy the spoils together.  It’s very gratifying, yes?” 

**_“I was hoping you were going to say we could fuck our brains out first.  I’m so damn horny; I’ve been forced to play with my toys and they aren’t as much fun as when we use them together.”  
_ **

_Jesus fucking Christ!  How lovely, I’m spending my nights drenched in sweat; and she’s getting herself off._

“You didn’t let me finish,” Benedict chuckled.  “I’m randy as hell and could use a good, thorough fucking.” 

**_“I hope the cabby didn’t hear that.”_**

“The window partition’s closed.” 

_Fucking? Who in the hell am I kidding? The spirit is more than willing; but I’m sure I could never get stiff feeling the way I do now.  I also don’t want to infect Donna with whatever bug I’ve got.  Wait until she sees me…she’ll know I’ve been under the weather again.  Nothing gets past Donna Saint James._

**_“I’ve got an idea, Benedict.  How about if I bring the steaks I had for tonight, and I’ll make us steak and eggs for breakfast tomorrow morning.  I’ve got some potatoes and onions; so I can also make some home fries to go with it.  I think I’ll stop at Gail’s on the way and get us some treats, too.  How does that sound?”_**

_All this talk of food, and I suddenly have the urge to puke. I hope the cabby hurries._

“That sounds lovely,” he lied. 

Benedict suddenly began to cough violently and hacked up some phlegm into his already soiled handkerchief.  _Hells bells!_ _I hope she didn’t hear that._   

The cabby glanced at him through the mirror with concern and opened the glass partition so he could address Benedict. 

“Are you okay, Mate?” 

Benedict nodded and blew his nose.  “Yeah.” 

He heard Donna’s worried voice in his ear. **_“You sound awful, Benedict!  Are you sick again?”_**

“No,” he protested.  “I’m fine.  Really.  I’m just terribly short on sleep is all and have a slight residual cough.  I’ll see you in the morning then.” 

**_“I can’t wait to see you, Ben Honey. We’ve got so much to talk about! I saw some beautiful wedding stationery that I think would be perfect for us.”_**

“I don’t know if I can give wedding stationery my full attention tomorrow…I’d rather give my full and complete attention to you.” _  
_

**_“Wedding invitations need time to be printed, Ben Honey.  We can’t leave it until that last minute.  I promise not to bombard you with wedding planning stuff right off the bat.  Tell you what, I’ll be there nice and early; so we’ll have plenty of time to fit in everything we want to do.”_ ** _  
_

_All I want to do is eat, sleep and shag – provided this fucking flu lets me.  Hmmm…Donna’s an early riser with an agenda no doubt.  She’d better not have intentions of showing up on my doorstep at seven.  I need my rest.  I love my fiancée to bits; but there are times when she runs me ragged, bless her._

“Not _too_ early, Love. Don’t forget that I’ve been putting in a lot of hours and need enough time to recharge my batteries.” 

There was silence. 

_Hmmm…I sense disagreement or it might be disappointment._

_**"I guess I'll have to recharge my batteries too for later on,"** _ sighed Donna.

_I realize she just wants to be with me.  I don’t fancy hurting her feelings.  Let me try this approach then.  
_

“I want to be properly rested, so I can enjoy your company to the fullest.  If I’m falling asleep then we won’t be able to satiate our carnal appetites properly yes?” 

**_“What’s your idea of early?”_**

_Ten or eleven is what I really want to tell her; but she’ll just get annoyed.  Wait!  I know what to tell her that will make us both happy._

“You’ve a key; so why don’t you just come over whenever you fancy and let yourself in.  Then when breakfast is ready, you can come and kiss me awake, provided it’s not prior to nine.” 

_**"That’s a great idea!  I’ll stop off and get a few things on the way over.”**  
_

_She can hit the shops and cook whilst I sleep. Well done me.  
_

**_“I’m looking forward to it, Ben Honey. I’ve missed you so much!”_**

Benedict could feel himself starting to sweat.  _Shit, those night sweats have started again!_  “Me, too.  I love you, Donna.  Sweet dreams.” 

_“ **Sleep well, and I love you, too!”**  
_

_It would have been more apropos if she had told me to sleep dry; but she’s no idea how fucking sick I feel right now._

 

Donna Saint James had arrived at the Hampstead tube station at seven on Saturday morning.  Her filet mignons were stored in an insulated bag along with the bottle of wine and some chocolate chip cookies she had baked for her lover.  Donna made her way along Hampstead High Street, stopping off at the Community Market for some fresh fruit and vegetables before moving onto Gail’s bakery for some of their cinnamon buns, a loaf of mixed olive bread and some sausage rolls for lunch. Her last stop was the florist for a bouquet of mixed flowers. 

It was eight o’clock when she arrived at Benedict’s flat on Hearthstone Terrace.  The house was silent as a tomb when she let herself inside as Bob was probably just getting to sleep himself.  She quietly made her way up the stairs and entered Benedict’s apartment.  Donna closed and locked the door before removing her coat and hung it on the coat tree along with her hat and gloves.  She noted that neither his coat nor his scarf was on the tree; and his gloves hadn’t been left on the console table in the foyer.  Benedict’s shoes stood underneath the coat tree with the laces still tied, alongside the pair of cow slippers she kept there.  

_Why am I always surprised to see his shoes still tied after all this time?  The man toes off his shoes.  I need to accept that and move on.  Boy, that heat sure feels nice!  It’s brutal outside.  How I long for the heat and humidity of Orlando.  I never thought I’d feel that way in a million years!  
_

Donna removed her shoes, donned the slippers and picked up her shopping bags with the intent of going straight into the small galley-style kitchen.  However, what she saw caused her to pause and survey the scene of disarray in the lounge area. 

_Gosh, he can be messy; but this is way worse than usual._     

Benedict’s coat had been tossed onto the back of one of the dining chairs; his scarf was on the floor along with one of his gloves.  The other was on the dining table alongside his opened backpack, the contents of which were strewn across the table as if he had been searching for something.  

_I wonder what he was looking for.  I was going to guess his laptop; but he carries that in his messenger bag.  
_

Donna looked towards the couch to see the contents of his messenger bag had been dumped out onto the cushions.  It looked as if some items had slid onto the floor.  There were what looked like scads of wadded up, used tissues and a couple of balled up handkerchiefs littered the coffee table along with his script and some highlighters. _  
_

_Someone was certainly in a hurry last night. I bet Benedict needed his laptop for something important. That’s usually the first thing he unpacks._

Donna glanced across the room and saw that his laptop was in its customary spot on his desk, where it was recharging.  His suitcases stood, unopened, beside the desk.  She picked up her purchases and went to the kitchen, noting that a pile of mail was on the breakfast bar – half of it had been opened and the other half remained untouched.  Most of the junk mail had been ripped in half and left on one of the stools.  The rest had fallen onto the floor, where it remained. There was a mug that still had some tea in it – the milk curdled.  Donna grimaced, picked up the mug and brought it into the kitchen.  

The scene in the kitchen wasn’t any neater.  The induction kettle still had water in it.  A can of chicken broth had been opened and the empty can left on the countertop alongside the electric can opener.  Donna made a face as she inadvertently rested her hand in some cold broth on the counter top that had been spilled.  The tin containing Earl Grey loose leaf tea stood with its lid off.  The measuring spoon had been left on the counter with some tea leaves that had spilled.  The sugar bowl also had its lid off and the spoon Benedict had used to stir his tea had been left on the countertop.  Apparently, he had stirred the tea too vigorously and some had spilled over the mug onto the countertop.  The spills had dried into brown stains overnight. 

Donna found a clear spot on the counter to rest her shopping bags.  She quickly stored the perishable items in the nearly empty refrigerator.  The tea towel had fallen from its customary place on the oven door to the floor, where it lay, soggy from wiping up what smelled like sour milk.  The sink held a tea ball, filled with used tea leaves; a plate with crumbs and what looked like smears of peanut butter and jam.  There were three glasses – two empty and one with the remnants of orange juice.  An empty carton of orange juice lay on its side, alongside the now-empty carton of spoiled milk. Another empty can of chicken broth stood in the sink along with some still-wet paper toweling.  

_Good gravy!  He really must have been exhausted to leave behind such a mess.  Benedict usually makes some sort of effort to maintain the kitchen.  It looks like he just left everything after he got what he wanted last night._

An open bottle of aspirin sat on the counter with an empty glass beside it.  The box of tissues was empty, and there were several wads of used tissues on the floor surrounding the overflowing garbage can. 

_It appears to me that someone was feeling sick and in a hurry to get to bed.  You can’t bullshit me, Benedict.  You’re sick.  Hmmm…now that I’m in here, it could actually be a bit warmer.  
_

Donna checked the thermostat and found that the temperature was set far lower than Benedict customarily kept it.  She raised it and turned on the fire place before cleaning up the kitchen and living room area.  There were used tissues everywhere – some made it to the open trash can and others did not.  Donna discovered two used tea bags behind the can on the floor.  

After straightening up and wiping down all the surfaces with the germ-disinfecting wipes that Benedict kept in the cabinet underneath the sink, Donna ventured into the bathroom to wash her hands.  

_Good gravy!  What happened in here? Benedict strikes again._

The first thing to hit Donna's nose was a strong ammonia smell.  It caused her to wrinkle her nose it as she sniffed and shuddered.

_Jeez Louise!  It smells like a public toilet in here!_

She found the toilet seat had been left in an upright position, and the toilet bowl was filled with bright yellow urine.  

_Hmmm…the urine is dark…that means he’s dehydrated._   _Those look like dried drops of urine on the rim on the bowl and on the floor.  I guess he shook it out last night rather than blotting the tip of his dick when he was dong peeing._

Donna flushed the toilet as she surveyed the rest of the room in mounting dismay. 

_This is very unlike Benedict.  The toilet seat is always down when he knows I’m coming over, and he always flushes after he pees. I’ve never known him to leave the bathroom in such a state._

The shower curtain had been pushed aside as Benedict had obviously taken a shower when he got home.  The shampoo and conditioner bottles were uncapped and lay in the bottom of the tub leaking their contents along with a bar of soap that was now soft from sitting in the bottom on the wet tub.  The shower had not been cleaned as there was soap scum on the bottom and dried shampoo suds on the tiled wall.  The still damp towels had been left inside the tub, and the tub mat was still on the floor.  Donna noticed that the towel rack was empty. 

_That’s really odd.  Benedict always cleans up after himself and always puts fresh towels on the rack after he showers.  This almost reminds me of when he stays in a hotel._

There was a damp, crumpled towel on the vanity with used tissues scattered over it.  There were more tissues on the floor, as the waste basket was overflowing with discarded ones. An empty tissue box sat on the vanity along with an empty glass, his unrinsed toothbrush and an uncapped toothpaste tube. The hairdryer sat in the corner, still plugged into the electrical outlet. 

_I guess breakfast will have to wait until I clean up this mess and sterilize all the surfaces.  I certainly can’t leave it in this state. I think I’ll start with the sink and vanity top.  They look like they could use a good scrubbing.  
_

Donna bent down and gathered the cleaning supplies from underneath the sink. As she was about to sprinkle powdered cleanser into the sink, she was greeted by several large gobs of sticky green and yellowish phlegm and what looked like toothpaste foam he had spit out.  Donna felt her stomach lurch.  

_Ewww!  That does it! My honey is really sick.  I know I promised not to wake him before breakfast was ready; but I won’t feel better until I check on him. I’ll come back to this once I see how he is. I’d better be quiet as a mouse, as the last thing I want to do is wake him._

Donna crossed the hall and slowly turned the knob of Benedict’s bedroom door, carefully pushing it open.  The room was dark; so she waited until her eyes adjusted before entering.  Luckily, there was just enough light coming in from the hallway for Donna to make out the scene in the room.  

As she suspected, the bedroom was in a similar state of disarray to the rest of the apartment.  There were balled up used tissues on the floor by the bed; the wastebasket was filled to overflowing as had been the ones in the other rooms.  Benedict’s cellphone was in the charger on top of his dresser.  He had also apparently emptied his pockets and left all the clutter such as his keys, wallet and spare change on the dresser top.  Some items obviously had fallen onto the floor. The clothes he had been wearing littered the floor surrounding the reading chair. 

_Not only was someone’s aim bad in the toilet but in here as well last night.  Usually, he throws his clothes on the chair._   _I never understood that.  His laundry alcove is just outside the room.  It’s not like he has to go to a different floor.  When we remodel, our laundry room should be on the same floor as the bedrooms._

Donna could barely make out Benedict’s sleeping form as he was burrowed underneath his down-filled duvet, which was in turn topped by three extra blankets.  Only his dark-dyed curls were visible on the pillow, and he appeared to be sleeping on his stomach.  His breathing sounded labored as if he were breathing through his mouth and having trouble getting enough air.  As she took another step closer to the bed, Donna’s foot made contact with something hard.  She reached down and her hand struck the cordless bedside phone, which had either been knocked off the nightstand or fallen onto the floor.  The green LED back light showed that he had punched in her speed dial number but didn' t hit the send button. Donna carefully sat on the very edge of the bed so as not to disturb Benedict and leaned over so she could check to see if he had a fever.  As she gingerly reached out to try and touch his forehead, his deep baritone voice startled her as he moved onto his side. 

“Donna!” he rasped.

_Crap! He must have wanted the phone off the hook and dropped it.  He wasn't trying to dial me, that was an accident when the phone hit the floor. Oh, no!  I woke him.  Now, there’s going to be hell to pay.  Why did I have to come in here?  Why couldn’t I just mind my own business and scrub the bathroom?  Why can I never just do as he asks? He’s going to be grumpy as fuck now, and I only have myself to blame._

“I’m so sorry…” began Donna. 

“Thank God, you’re here!” he croaked. _  
_

_Does this mean he’s not mad?_

“I’d thought you’d never get here!” 

_Wow!  Someone is anxious.  Maybe he wants to play now.  No, Donna, you ass! Think about what you just saw.  The man is obviously sick. Even his voice sounds rough…but it always does first thing in the morning._

“Can I turn on the light?” 

“Please.  I couldn’t reach the lamp.”  There came the sound of muffled coughing from beneath the covers. 

Donna switched on the bedside light, and Benedict didn’t move or say anything.  She gently pulled down the blankets and duvet so she could see his face and was shocked by what she saw.  His face was gaunt and drawn as if he had lost more weight, and there were dark circles and bags underneath his eyes. His hair, which at first appeared greasy, was actually plastered to his forehead with sweat. Benedict’s ice blue eyes glittered feverishly with crusted sleep in both inner and outer corners. There was thick, green mucus crusted in his nostrils and dried drool in the corners of his mouth.  His nose was an angry red as the skin was irritated from blowing; and his lips were dry and cracked.  Benedict began to cough violently and shuddered as his arm emerged from the cocoon, and he groped for the box of tissues that was on the bed next to him.  He winced as he hawked up phlegm and spat into a tissue.  Donna could hear wheezing whenever he tried to draw a breath. 

“Jesus Christ!  Why didn’t you call me if you were so sick?  You look and sound awful!” 

“I feel fucking awful,” Benedict confirmed as he tried to stifle another coughing fit in vain. "I didn't want you to see me in such a state."

_I bet he was going to call but had second thoughts.  He was afraid to let me see how sick he is._

“Why did you try and hide this from me?”

“I wasn't trying to hide it...well, I was at first.  Then when things started getting worse, I considered ringing you; but I didn't want to disturb your sleep..."

"The hell with sleep - I would have come right over!"

"It was so late and then I realized that something must be very wrong; so I in spite of my resolve not to ring you, I gave in around half two, but…" he weakly gestured to the floor.

"I assumed you didn't want to be bothered; so you took the phone off the hook and it fell."

“You incorrectly assumed, Love. I was trying to call you to come over as soon as you could.  I dropped the motherfucking phone on the floor. I literally couldn’t reach down to retrieve it.  I feel so sick, Donna, that I can’t get out of this bed. I’m…terribly frightened and…wanted you to come and stay with me.”  He began to cough again.  "Christ, my chest hurts so fucking much!"  

_He was trying to reach me because he wanted me to come over.  My honey needs medical attention._

“I’ve never felt so bad, Donna.  I don’t know what’s wrong.  I wasn’t this bad yesterday.” 

“Can you try and sit up?” 

With Donna’s help, Benedict was able to scoot up slightly into a reclining position against the pillows. He quickly tugged the covers back up around his shoulders and shivered uncontrollably.  Donna could see his teeth chattering. 

“My God, your pajamas and sheets feel wet.” 

“I’ve soaked the bed sheets with sweat the past three nights.  Being it’s the middle of winter; I fear something is really wrong with me. It’s not normal to sweat so profusely like I have been. I’m having trouble breathing, and my chest hurts like hell whenever I cough. I'm so cold.  Isn't the bloody heat on?"     

"Now it is.  You had the heat turned all the way down.  I've adjusted the temperature."

"It's still too fucking cold in here.  Can you please turn on the fireplace?"

"Sure."

He began to cough again and filled three tissues with phlegm, as Donna switched on the fireplace.  When the fit subsided, sat on the edge of the bed and touched his forehead, which was burning hot. 

“You’ve got a fever, Ben Honey.  Let me take your temperature.” 

“I don’t own a thermometer.  Don’t you have one in that bloody bag of yours?” 

“Sorry to disappoint you; but no, I don’t.” 

Benedict coughed and held his hand over his chest.  “My heart feels like its racing.  I’m terrified that there is something really, really wrong.” 

“Okay. Where’s the nearest ER?” 

“The nearest A&E to here is at the Royal Free Hospital on Pond Street – why do you ask?” 

“Because we need to get you over there so someone can examine you.  Whatever it is, this is much worse than a simple relapse of the flu.” 

“I’m not going to an A&E. They’ll want to put me in hospital on a drip.” 

“You’re jumping the gun here.  First, we have to find out what’s wrong with you. Then we’ll worry about the treatment.  If you need to be admitted, you’ll stop bitching and let them.” 

“You don’t understand! I can’t afford to be sick now!  I’ve got to be back in Cardiff for filming on Tuesday!” 

“Look, Benedict.  You’re sick and need medical attention.” 

“I’m not going to an A&E.” 

“You already made that perfectly clear.” 

Benedict had another coughing fit.  “My ribs are so sore from all this fucking coughing,” he groaned.  “Why won’t it stop?  I even took some cough syrup; but it was fucking useless.” 

_Okay, let me try another approach. Surely he won’t refuse treatment by his own doctor.  Mark’s one of his best friends, and I’m sure he’ll come right over._

“Will you at least let me call Mark?  I’m sure he’d come right over to check you.” 

“Mark’s still on honeymoon.” 

“Damn.  I forgot.  How about Steve?  You let him check you when you had the flu.” 

“I don’t want to be a bother on his day off.  All I need is some rest, and I’m sure …” 

"Pardon me, Benedict; but that's bullshit.  You need a doctor!"

Benedict began to cough once again.  This time he almost choked trying to bring up the phlegm.  He wiped his mouth on his pajama sleeve and fell back against the damp pillow. Donna noted that his sputum was tinged with blood this time and the alarmed expression on his face.   

"That's it!  I'm calling Steve.  I don't care what you want or don't want!"

“I said NO," he bellowed, which set off another coughing fit. "I'm really not as bad as you seem to think.  Just a few days rest...can you at least pull up the blinds?  I’d like to see the view of London.  It really isn't fair to Steve..."

Donna quickly did as he asked.  His skin had a pronounced grey pallor and the dark circles and bags underneath his eyes seemed even more pronounced in the daylight coming through the window. He held his hand to his chest as he gasped for air and wheezed. 

“Alright, you win,” Benedict said, waving his hand dismissively. “My chest won’t stop hurting, my nose is bunged up, I can’t seem to catch my breath and there's blood in this green gunk I'm coughing up.  Please call Steve.  I feel so fucking horrible!”   

While waiting for Steve to arrive, Donna managed to help Benedict out of the bed and into the chair by the window.  She changed the bed and put the soiled bed linens in the washer.  Getting Benedict into clean pajamas proved to be a bigger challenge as he was very weak and still outweighed her.  He could barely move and asked to remain in the chair after several unsuccessful attempts to stand up.    

Finally, Donna gave up on getting Benedict back into the bed and wrapped him up in the extra blanket and duvet.  He was still consumed by chills and requested that she turn up the heat in addition to getting him another blanket so he could wrap up warm. When Donna returned with some hot tea laced with lemon and honey, she found Benedict had fallen into a fitful sleep.  She spent the rest of the time scrubbing the bathroom and doing laundry until Steve and Carly got there.  

 

 

Two hours later, Donna and Carly sat in Benedict’s living room, sipping hot cinnamon spice tea while Steve was in the bedroom examining Benedict.  The sky was getting overcast with the promise of snow; and a cold, biting wind was blowing the trees outside.  

“It’s a good day to be indoors,” observed Carly.  “I thought I was going to get frostbite on the walk here from the tube station.  Steve said it’s quicker to walk here from the Belsize Park station than from Hampstead.” 

“It depends on where you’re headed.” 

Carly’s stomach gurgled and growled.  “I guess my stomach is rebelling because I didn’t eat.” 

“I’ve got filet mignons in the refrigerator.  Do you and Steve want to stay for brunch?  I can make some scrambled eggs, and I’ve got fresh bread…” 

“Why don’t you stop playing hostess and wait until Steve’s done with examining Ben?” 

“We’ve still got to eat.  I feel bad that you two left the restaurant without getting to eat your meal.  I know how much you were looking forward to having brunch at Le Caprice. Besides it gives me something to do so I don’t worry so much.” 

“It’s alright, Donna.  We hadn’t even gotten around to ordering when you called.  Your description of Ben sounded pretty bad; so we figured it was imperative that we come right over.  I’m sorry it took so long to get here; but Steve had to go home and get his black bag first.” 

“I really appreciate you guys coming over.” 

“Steve is a very dedicated doctor and would never turn down a request to treat someone who’s sick.” 

“Benedict’s so sick, Carly.  I’ve never seen him like this.  I know it's not a relapse of the flu - it's something much worse! He can barely move around and that cough is God awful.  It sounds like he’s hacking up a lung.” 

“I can hear it from here.  I bet its bronchitis.” 

Dr. Steven Cipriano finally entered the living area and placed his black bag on the coffee table as he sat beside his wife on the couch. 

“What’s your professional opinion, doctor?” Donna asked her brother-in-law. 

“He’s a mess.” 

“That was very descriptive, Babe,” said Carly, gently elbowing him. 

“Seriously, Benedict should probably be admitted to the hospital and put on an antibiotic IV, pending test results.” 

Donna looked horrified.  “Why?  What’s wrong?” 

“Your fiancé is very sick, Donna. He’s got a fever of one hundred and three, which is dangerously high for an adult.  I could hear plenty of rumbling and bubbling through my stethoscope whenever I asked him to inhale, which is indicative of fluid in the lungs.  He’s also wheezing and having difficulty breathing so it was no surprise that he failed the spirometer test spectacularly.  My preliminary diagnosis is classic, text-book pneumonia; but I need to take him to the A&E stat to get a chest x-ray to be absolutely sure.” 

“I already suggested that and he refused to go,” said Donna. 

“Oh, I gave it to him straight; and he’ll go,” retorted Steve with confidence.  “I don’t like the way Ben looks or sounds.  We need to be sure what’s going on.  At the A&E we can get a chest x-ray, blood test and have his sputum analyzed to see what type of bacteria we’re dealing with.  We need to know whether it’s viral or bacterial; so he can receive the proper treatment.  I did prepare him that they will most likely want to admit him if I’m right.” 

“Benedict won’t allow it,” scoffed Donna.  “He’s expected in Cardiff for filming on Tuesday and determined to go.” 

“He’s not going anywhere – trust me.  Now, I’ll need you to help me get him out of those pajamas and dressed, Donna.”  

“If you get me his car keys, and I’ll warm up his car and pull it into the driveway,” volunteered Carly. 

“You can't. Ben’s car has a manual transmission,” pointed out Donna, as she got to her feet.  “None of us know how to drive a stick shift.” 

“I thought Ben was teaching you,” said Carly. 

“He has been; but I’m not confident enough to drive his car to the hospital.  It’s in a very high traffic zone.  When we go out, he takes me to deserted back roads or parking lots to practice.” 

“We’ll just take a cab,” said Steve Cipriano.  “Carly, can you please call for one in the meantime while we prepare the patient for transport?”

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Well, we finally got to the pneumonia chapter. All symptoms and progression are based on medical websites such as The Mayo Clinic and Web MD. 
> 
> 2\. The model in the flower girl photo is obviously a couple of years older than Donna's nieces would be; but the dress was so over-the-top IMHO, that I wanted to use it and pretend those were the twins. Yes, I keep mucking around with Melanie and Melissa's ages.
> 
> 3\. I couldn't find any photos of Benedict looking ill in bed; so I used one from A Scandal in Belgravia.
> 
> 4\. Thank you to all those who have been leaving kudos and those who have taken time out to leave comments! It makes my day and shows me there are people still out there reading this saga! :-)


	175. Chapter 175

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanda and Timothy’s Grecian winter holiday is interrupted by bad news. Benedict receives surprise visitors while he recuperates. Donna finds herself cornered by Barrister Ben.

 

 

“That was such a lovely lunch, don’t you think?”  Wanda Ventham asked Timothy Carlton.  The couple was making their way up the ancient winding road that led to their holiday home in Galaxidi, Greece that overlooked the sea.

“And the company was even lovelier,” replied Timothy, squeezing her hand as they walked along. 

“Thank you – you’re still a very charming man, Timothy Cumberbatch.”

“I try my best, Pet,” said Timothy with a self-satisfied smirk.

“You have never given me less than your very best ever since the day we met,” said Wanda as she gave him a coy smile.

“And now it’s my turn to thank you for the compliment.”

“I meant it sincerely.”

Timothy squeezed her hand again.  “I know.”

Their small, white-washed stucco house came into view as they rounded the last bend.  They could smell the scent from their flower garden as they neared the gate. 

“I do think I prefer a late lunch to an early dinner. What about you?”

“What’s the difference?”

Wanda frowned as she considered his question.  “I’m not entirely sure to be honest.”

“I’ll tell you the difference then.  The prices are cheaper at lunch and the portions are smaller.”

“I was satisfied with what I had to eat.  You weren’t?”

“Of course I was.  We had six courses, plus drinks, wine and two rounds of coffee.  I’m stuffed, which is why I suggested we walk back rather than take a cab.”

“Don’t forget the coconut gelato we stopped off for after our walk along the beach.  There’s nothing better than gelato.”

“I especially fancied the bits of banana and white chocolate chunks they put inside it,” added Timothy.  “It gave it a whole other dimension.”

“A delicious dimension, that.”

“You do realize we are sounding more and more like our future daughter-in-law every day.”

“There are worse people to sound like, Tim.  You could have said we’re starting to sound more like her parents.”

“Perish the thought!  We’re lacking one important quality.”

“Which is?”

“We’re not wankers.”

Wanda barked out a laugh.  “That’s for certain, Love.  Now, I think I’m ready for a lie down.”

Timothy unlocked the door and allowed Wanda to precede him inside.

“There’s nothing better than relaxing over a delicious meal outdoors with a good bottle of wine, a gentle breeze blowing and stimulating conversation.”

“That grilled branzino was delectable,” said Wanda.  “I adore fresh seafood simply prepared like that.  Everything tastes better outdoors.”

“I particularly enjoyed the spectacular view of the Mediterranean and of my gorgeous wife,” said Timothy with a cheeky grin. “I think a lie down is definitely in order.  We can watch the sunset from bed after I’ve taken a leisurely amount of time to properly ravish you.”

“I think you’ve had too much wine,” giggled Wanda.

“And you didn’t?  I dare say we just about polished off the entire bottle.”

“You forgot to add in the two cocktails we had before lunch.”

“I lost count, Pet.  Did we have two?”

“Yes, we did.”

Wanda opened the sliding glass doors that allowed the ocean breeze to come into their house.  Timothy came to stand behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist as they gazed out at the beautiful view.  He nuzzled her neck and kissed her cheek.  Wanda turned in his arms to face him and reached up to stroke his cheek in return.

“You are a dear, dear man, Timothy Cumberbatch; and I love you as much today as I did the first time we got together – maybe even more if that is possible.”

“Let the ravishing begin then!   We need to take advantage of my little blue pill whilst it’s still working,” Timothy said with a hearty laugh as he squeezed her ample bottom.  “I’d sweep you off your feet; but my back…” he allowed the sentence to trail off. 

“It’s fine.  You know I understand.  Trying to lift the likes of me would certainly wrench your back and that would set back your plans to ravish me by several days!”

“Shall I open the sliding doors in the bedroom as well?”

“That’s a brilliant suggestion,” said Wanda, taking him by the hand and leading the way to their bedroom.

Timothy drew the sheer white curtains and unlocked the sliding door.  He heard a text chime sound from behind him.  “Is that mine or yours?  Mine’s over on the night stand.”

“Yours,” replied Wanda.  “Shall I see who it is?”

“Please. It must be Ben,” replied Timothy coming over to join her.  “He did say he’d ring us when he got back to London, so I guess he had some free time for a chat. Text him that we’ll ring him back later.”

Wanda read the text message and looked up at Timothy.  He could see concern in her ice blue eyes.

“It’s not from Ben.  The text is from Donna.  She wants us to ring her on Skype as soon as we get this text.”

“When did she send it?”

“Three hours ago!  Whilst we were out.”

Timothy peered over her shoulder.  “What else does she say?”

“Nothing – It just says to ring her on Skype.”

“Hmmm…that’s odd.  Let’s ring her back then and see what’s up – if anything.”

“Something must be wrong with Ben,” said Wanda worriedly as she followed her husband into the lounge where they kept their laptop set up on the dining room table.  “Do you think she’s already signed into Skype?”

“Donna’s always signed into Skype so she can communicate with her family...see, she’s signed in.”

“I’m suddenly so frightened, Tim!  I’ve got this bad feeling in the pit of my stomach.”

“Perhaps the fish was spoilt.”

Wanda lightly smacked his upper arm.  “Stop that, you!  I’m being completely serious.  A mother has these feelings…it’s akin to a sixth sense when something’s wrong with one of her children.”

“If you’d just let me ring Donna back, we’d find out if this sixth sense of yours is reliable.”

Wanda clicked on Donna’s Skype icon and the call connected after two rings.  Donna was sitting at Benedict’s desk in his flat.  She looked tired, drawn and very upset.

“Hi, thanks for calling me back,” Donna said in a small voice that sounded as if she were on the verge of tears.   “I was worried something had happened to one of you.”

“We just got your text message,” said Timothy.  “We were out having lunch and a walk and the reception near the beach can be poor.”

“What’s wrong?” asked Wanda with a note of panic in her voice.

“I wanted to let you guys know that Benedict has pneumonia.”

Wanda blanched at the news and gripped Timothy’s hand.  “Oh my God!  We have to book the first flight we can get back to London!”

“Let’s get the details first, Pet, before we go rushing off half-cocked. How serious is it, Donna?” inquired Timothy. 

“Very,” replied Donna, her eyes filling with tears.

“Oh my God!” cried Wanda, tugging at Timothy’s sleeve.  “My baby!  We have to go to him, Tim!”

“Is it viral or bacterial, Donna?” asked Timothy as he tried to remain calm.

“Bacterial.  He had the flu as you both know, and it developed into a bad case of pneumonia.  When I came over this morning, I saw how sick he was and called my brother-in-law, Steve; and he came right over.”

“You’re going to tell us that Ben is in hospital yes?” asked Wanda, tears beginning to roll down her cheeks.

“No.  Your pig-headed son refused to be admitted,” replied Donna.  “Steve took him to the ER where they gave Benedict a chest x-ray and some tests.  They diagnosed him with bacterial pneumonia in his left lung and a dangerously high fever of one hundred and three.”

Timothy quickly did the calculation in his head.  “That’s thirty-nine degrees,” he said to Wanda.  “It’s rather high,” he commented with concern in his voice.

“That’s an extremely high temperature!” Wanda wailed.  “What can they do for him?  Surely there’s something that can be done!”

“They gave him a prescription for some very potent antibiotics and recommended bed rest along with plenty of fluids and paracetamols to bring the fever down.”

“We need to go to our son, Tim!  You can die from pneumonia!  We must return to London at once!  I’ll ask Olympia to close up the house for us.”

“Donna, do you think it best that we should come home?” asked Timothy as he struggled to maintain his composure.   

Donna could see Timothy was glancing at his smart phone as they spoke. _I bet he’s checking the airlines for available flights back to London.  I never meant for them to interrupt their vacation.  I just wanted them to know their son was sick.  They have a right to know._

“Steve and the doctor at the ER think Benedict should respond to the antibiotics in a day or two and that he’ll make a complete recovery.  As a matter of fact, Steve insisted on sleeping here tonight on the couch; so he can keep an eye on him.  I’ll be sleeping right in the room with Benedict, so I’ll also be keeping watch over him, so…”

“Can we talk to Ben now?” asked Wanda abruptly.

_Okay, she doesn’t want to talk to me.  Wanda wants to see her son, but Benedict just fell asleep a little while ago.  I don’t want to disturb his rest.  Steve said sleep is the best thing for him right now._

“He’s fast asleep right now, Wanda; but as soon as he’s awake, we can Skype call you back.”

Wanda and Timothy side-eyed each other, and Timothy nodded his head a millimeter of an inch. Donna watched as Wanda’s index finger barely touched his hand, causing Timothy to hand her his cellphone.

_Holy cow!  That’s what Mom and Dad do – I never noticed that Wanda and Tim did the silent communication thing.  If I hadn’t been trained in Toni and Neil observation; I never would have caught it._

“Can we speak with Steve then?” Wanda asked in a brusque tone.

“Yes, I think we’d feel better hearing it from a doctor – no offense meant, Donna,” added Timothy, wrapping an arm around Wanda’s shoulders.  “It’s just that Steve is a trained professional and actually examined Ben himself and…well…you know…”  Tim allowed his voice to trail off.

_Wow, I’ve been dismissed by both Wanda and Tim.  They’re suspicious and want to talk to Steve, not me.  I was trying not to worry them; but I’m afraid my call had just the opposite effect. The poor things look very upset._

“Sure,” replied Donna.  She turned her head towards the kitchen.  “Steve, Wanda and Tim would like to speak with you.”

Steve Cipriano appeared on the computer screen.  He was holding a beaker and smiled at them as he crouched down so they could see him better.  “Hi Tim, Wanda!  How’s Greece?”

“Nice and warm,” replied Timothy.  “Greece is absolutely lovely this time…”

“Hells bells! Enough about Greece - How’s our son?” interrupted Wanda curtly. 

“Wanda!” snapped Timothy in anger. “That’s not the way to treat the man. Please forgive my wife’s abrupt manner, Steve, as she prefers to cut straight to the heart of the matter.”

“It’s perfectly okay, Tim.  I understand,” said Steve. “How can I help?”

Timothy glared at his wife.  “Exchanging the bare minimum of pleasantries was not going to delay Ben’s recovery,” he snarled at her.

“My apologies, Steve and to you, Donna; but as you both can probably guess – we’re worried sick about Ben,” said Wanda impatiently.  “How is he and what is the prognosis?”

_Good gravy!  I already told them all that.  I guess they won’t feel better until they hear it from the doctor’s lips._

Steve nodded understandingly.  “Ben’s pretty sick right now.  He has a high fever, fluid in his left lung, chest and sinus congestion, not to mention a very productive cough that’s causing him to have sore ribs.  However, I have every confidence that he’ll bounce back quickly as soon as the antibiotics kick in.  There should be significant improvement in a day or two.”

“Shouldn’t he be in hospital on a drip?” persisted Wanda.

“The ER doctor felt he should have been admitted for at least twenty-four hours; but Ben was having none of it.  He insisted on going home, and an argument ensued.  So rather than continue arguing,  I assured the doctor that I’d take care of Ben personally and bring him right back to the ER should things worsen, which I don’t see happening.  I’ve seen far more serious cases of pneumonia to be honest.”

“Yet you feel it necessary to sleep in his flat tonight,” Wanda pointed out.

“Well, I did promise the doctor I’d stay with him.  Ben’s breathing has been a bit labored; so I personally would feel better if I were close by until he’s breathing more easily.  I went out and bought a humidifier for his bedroom, and we’re making sure he’s getting plenty of fluids to thin out the mucus.”

“Is there anything we can realistically do from here?” asked Timothy. “Do you think it would serve any useful purpose if we were to fly home?”

“Of course we should, you dolt!” blurted out Wanda.  “Our boy needs us!”

“To be honest, Wanda, there really isn’t anything for you and Tim to do here,” said Steve.  “We have to bring down the fever, and the antibiotics need time to do their work.  Most importantly, Ben just has to rest.  He’s going to be spending most of his time sleeping over the next several days.”

Wanda looked doubtful as Timothy patted her hand.  “He’ll be fine, Wanda. Ben’s in good hands.  Not many people can say their doctor stayed with them like Steve’s doing.  We appreciate everything you’re doing, Steve.”

“What about _Sherlock_ filming?” demanded Wanda with a note of alarm in her voice.  “Isn’t he needed in Cardiff this coming week?” 

“Yes, Benedict’s on the schedule for Tuesday,” replied Donna.

“However, he won’t be going,” added Steve. 

“Oh, no!  This is terrible!” wailed Wanda.  “Ben’s second week filming, and he gets sick.  Surely the medicine will have him back on his feet by then.”

Steve’s face clouded momentarily as he addressed Wanda.  “I understand your concern for your son’s health…”

“Does Hartswood know about this?  Were they told the star of the show is sick?” inquired Timothy. 

“Steve and I personally spoke with Sue and Beryl Vertue, Mark Gatiss and Steve Moffat on a conference call,” said Donna.  “They totally understand that Benedict is seriously ill and won’t be able to work for a few days.  As a matter of fact, they said they will work around him and adjust the schedule so they can film scenes where he isn’t needed – just like they filmed around Martin Freeman when he injured his hand.”

Timothy and Wanda exchanged knowing looks.

“I bet they didn’t _really_ understand,” scoffed Wanda. “You forget that Tim and I are actors and have seen these situations arise many times.”

“Any interruption in the filming schedule can wreck financial havoc for the producers,” added Timothy. 

“That’s what they have insurance for,” retorted Donna.  “Benedict can’t go back to work if he’s still sick! If he’s out sick for an extended period of time, the insurance will kick in.”

“We have no way of knowing how long he’ll take to recover yet,” said Steve.  “We have to play it one day at a time, which is what I told the producers.  They weren’t thrilled, but they understand what’s at stake here.  I won’t clear him to return to work until I feel he’s strong enough and not in danger of having a relapse.”

“From Ben’s emails, _Sherlock_ filming has been plagued by mishaps ever since the filming began,” declared Timothy. “A few days delay here and there adds up to their falling behind on schedule and therefore, adds to the budget, which from what I gather is already stretched as far as it will go. They’ll expect Ben back on set as soon as he can stand and deliver his lines,” added Timothy.

“They can expect him all they want, but Ben won’t be returning to Cardiff until I say he can go,” said Steven firmly.

“There’s no way Benedict can work!  He looks awful!” cried Donna.  “You haven’t seen him!  He’s pale and has dark circles under his eyes…”

Donna noticed that Wanda immediately looked alarmed and grabbed Timothy’s cellphone back from him and began to study whatever it was he had been looking at.

_Thanks to my big mouth, they’re searching for flights again.  They’ll come back to London regardless of what Steve says.  I only meant to inform them.  They’re so worried about what the producers think.  Steve was very capable when it came to handling them.  He made it clear that as Benedict’s doctor, his health came first, and the show second._

“If he’s still looking peaked, well that’s what makeup is for,” said Timothy in an attempt to make light of the situation; but he could see that his wife would not be calmed.  “Isn’t that so, Pet?” he asked Wanda.

Wanda said nothing.

“You’re right, Tim,” admitted Donna with a slight smile.  “Seriously, I thought they were all going to have a cow when I told them not to expect Benedict in Cardiff next week.  Sue Vertue visibly blanched, and I could see her husband clenching his jaw. They immediately peppered me with a dozen or so questions; so I just let Steve take over and explain the situation to them.”

“I was very firm and told them that we have to see how Ben responds to the treatment; but I couldn’t guarantee them that he’d be back good-as-new by Tuesday.  First, we have to get that fever down and his lung has to be clear of any fluid.  I warned them that Ben will require rest and shorter work days once he returns.  Pneumonia wipes you out for a while, and the last thing any of us wants is for him to suffer a relapse.  By the end of our conversation, I think they all realized that, speaking as Ben’s doctor; I wasn’t going to allow him to go to Cardiff unless the fever was gone, his chest was clear and he was feeling substantially better.”

“That’s when Sue said they’d just have to find a way to work around him like they did for Martin Freeman,” added Donna.

“That’s the second time you made mention of Martin Freeman. What happened to him?” inquired Timothy.

“I don’t recall Ben saying anything about him being injured,” added Wanda.

“Apparently, Martin had an accident on set and missed a day,” replied Donna.  “Sue didn’t elaborate; but they’ve had crew out sick with the flu as well.”

Wanda looked up from the mobile.  “So, do you think we should come home, Steve?  Donna, would you feel better if we came back?”

Donna and Steve exchanged glances.  Steve cleared his throat before replying to her question.

“Right now is the worst of it, Wanda.  I professionally feel Ben will start to improve within the next couple of days.  The antibiotic needs twenty-four hours to kick in, and he’s already had one dose.  The choice is entirely yours and Tim’s.  However, I will mention that the flu strain has mutated and it’s bitterly cold here.  I would hate to see either of you catch it – being on a plane is not where you want to be during a flu outbreak. I’d stay in Greece if I were you two.  I promise to call you if his condition worsens for any reason.”

“Donna?” pressed Wanda.  “Just say the word, and we’ll be on the first flight we can book.”

_Regardless of what Steve just said, they are going to come back.  I can see it in their eyes.  They won’t feel better until they’ve seen Benedict in person with their own eyes.  They want me to tell them to come back to London._

“I think you should come back.  I know your son would be happy to see you and know you’re close by,” she replied.

Donna felt Steve grip her shoulder as he stood up out of camera range.  He looked down at her and rolled his eyes in disapproval.

“We’re going to need to mull this over,” said Timothy.  “Thank you for letting us know.  We’ll be back to you shortly.  Cheers.”

Steve folded his arms and shook his head at Donna once Wanda and Tim had signed off Skype.  “Why on earth did you tell them to come back?  That was foolish advice, Donna. Airplanes are germ-laden vehicles in the winter as is –but more so now with the mutated virus!”

“You’re the one who told me Benedict’s condition is serious!”

“Yes, it is; but they needed to make their own decision.”

“You kept trying to convince them to stay in Greece.”

“Catching the flu at their age is serious.  You pushed them to come home.”

“You don’t know them like I do, Steve.  They were checking flights on Tim’s mobile.”

“I figured as much.”

“They wanted me to ask them to come home.  They want to see their son for themselves.  They dote on Benedict.  He’s their only child, and there’s a strong bond between the three of them.”

“I was well aware of all of that, Donna,” retorted Steve.  “However, you must take into account that Wanda and Tim are older; and therefore, more susceptible to illness.  They take longer to recover and are at risk for developing complications easier.”

“You said that Ben wasn’t contagious.”

“That’s right.  He’s got bacterial pneumonia.”

“So I don’t see what the big deal is?”

“You’re upset and not listening to me, Donna.  Do you want to see one or both of them catch the flu?”

“That’s not a problem!  They had flu shots.”

“I’m going to say this again:  the strain has mutated; so they are as vulnerable as you and me and everyone else!  Granted it wouldn’t affect them as bad as they do have some immunity; but I think it would have been wiser for them to stay in Greece.”

“I saw the expressions on their faces and the looks they were exchanging, Steve.  They wanted us to tell them to come back.  You don’t know them like I do.  I’m sure they’re busy booking a flight right now.”

“You didn’t do them a favor by asking them to come back, Donna.  I think you were wrong to do that.”

“Let me ask you something, Doctor. What if it was one of your brothers or sisters who were sick like Benedict is?  What would you tell your parents if they were already at their condo in Florida for the winter?”

“I’d tell my parents that there was no need to rush home and to stay put in Florida, and I would keep them posted.”

“Pardon me, but that’s bullshit!”

Steve Cipriano sighed deeply as he turned to go back into the kitchen.  “I know.” 

 

 

It was noon time Wednesday and Benedict Cumberbatch was stood at the window in his lounge, looking out at Hampstead Heath and the London Skyline beyond.  This was the first time that he had left his bedroom other than for trips to the loo since being diagnosed with pneumonia. 

“I see it snowed a bit last night,” he observed.

“When I went down to get the mail, I noticed it’s no more than a couple of inches,” confirmed Donna, bringing him a large mug of hot tea laced with lemon and honey.  “Bob was just coming in and said most of it has already melted in the city, so enjoy the winter wonderland view while you can.”

“I wish I could go for a walk in it,” said Benedict wistfully.  “I’m getting weary of being indoors.”

“Hmmm…so cabin fever is setting in already,” teased Donna.  “I doubt you’d make it down the stairs right now.”

Benedict took a swallow of tea.  “Next time do you think you might add a shot of brandy rather than the lemon and honey?”  he asked hopefully. 

“You can’t mix booze with your meds.  You’ll be even more loopy than you already are.”

Benedict giggled.  “I am acting rather loopy, aren’t I?”

“Yep.”

“I don’t feel too spaced out yet this morning.”

“You just had your morning dose.  Give it time,” laughed Donna.

“When Steve came to examine me this morning, he said my lungs sound clear and the fever’s gone.”

“Yep, your fever finally broke last night.  You had severe sweating followed by chills that wracked your entire body.  I finally had to climb into bed with you and wrap my arms around you to get you to stop shivering.”

“I don’t remember any of that…I thought you’ve been sleeping on my reading chair.”

“I’ve started sleeping with you the night before.  You’ve seen me sitting and reading in your reading chair during the day.”

“I’ve lost all track of time.  All I do is fucking sleep.”

“You needed that sleep in order to get well.  I was so happy and relieved that your temperature was normal when Steve took it earlier.”

“My fever may be gone; but Steve said I can’t go out for twenty-four hours.”

“That’s right.”

“Fuck,” muttered Benedict.  “There’s no point in arguing with him or you I suppose.”

“None at all.”

“It was nice of Steve to make the trip up here to check on me this morning.  I hope he wasn’t delayed getting to hospital for his surgery.”

“His said his knee replacement was scheduled for ten; so he had plenty of time.”

“He needn’t go out of his way like that.”

“Actually, he slept here on the couch the first two nights and has been here every morning since to check on you.  You just don’t remember.”

Benedict turned away from the window and blinked at her.  “Jesus Christ!  Those fucking pills have me completely spaced out more than I thought.  I don’t recall his being here except for today.  What is today anyway?”

“Wednesday.”

“Wednesday? What happened to Saturday, Sunday, Monday and Tuesday?”

“You were so sick that you’ve basically slept through them.”

“Christ.  That was incredibly kind of him to take such brilliant care of me.”

“Are you up to eating some lunch?  Your parents will be here soon.  They’ll be thrilled to see you up and about.”

“Mum and Dad are here?  They had gone to Galaxidi to get away from this ghastly weather.”

“They came home as soon as they heard you were sick.  As a matter of fact, they’ve been here every day.  They were very worried about you, Benedict.”

Benedict waved his hand dismissively.  “Oh, for fucks sake!  There was no need for them to cut their holiday short and come home.  They cherish their winters in Greece.  They despise when the weather’s as cold as it’s been here.  It’s murder on Dad’s back and Mum’s knees.”

“Try telling them that.  They were very upset when they found out…”

Benedict raised an inquisitive eyebrow at her.  “I wonder who told them I was sick.”

“Steve and I called and told them; but in the end it was their decision to come back.  As soon as they see you’re feeling better, they’re going to go back.”

“I wish you hadn’t told them; but I suppose they had a right to know.”

“You suppose correctly, Mr. Cumberbatch.  Steve and I grappled with it and then decided it was the right thing to do.  There really was no talking them out of coming back.  I could see in their faces that their minds were made up the moment they heard what had happened.”

“Mum can be quite the force to be reckoned with once she makes up her mind to do something,” chuckled Benedict.  “Dad, too.”

The doorbell sounded.  “And speaking of the force, here they are!”  said Donna.  She left Benedict standing by the window to go buzz her future in-laws in the downstairs door.

Benedict considered his appearance in the reflection of the window pane as Donna went to welcome his parents into his flat.  His curly hair was matted and stringy-looking; his face was covered in a light auburn beard that contrasted with his dark-dyed hair.  The tip of his nose was red and the skin surrounding it dry and scaly-looking from repeated blowing.  Benedict’s Cupid’s bow lips were still dry and cracked; and his ice blue eyes were rimmed red and appeared sunken with dark circles underneath.  He blew into his palm and smelt his breath, which made him gag.

 _Christ!  My breath smells awful.  I don’t know how Donna can tolerate being around me in such a state.  I need a mint._  He looked around the room and spied the tin of his chocolate mints on his desk and quickly popped one into his mouth. 

“Hells bells, I look a fright!  I should try and do something…if only I weren’t so bloody knackered,” he called out to Donna.

“I’m sure they won’t mind how you look,” said Donna as she opened the door to his flat and waited for Wanda and Tim to climb the stairs.

Benedict ran his hands through his hair in an attempt to make it look presentable and made a face at his reflection.  “You look like a knob who has just come off a bender,” he mumbled to himself as he turned to face his parents, who had just come in from leaving their outdoor gear in the foyer. Donna was holding the insulated tote bag that Wanda always used to transport perishable food over.

 _Do I smell Mum’s roast chicken?_   The scent made his mouth begin to water. _I’m like Pavlov’s dog for fucks sake!_

Donna grinned as she watched the smiles spread over Wanda and Tim’s faces at seeing their son was out of bed.  “Surprise!  Ben’s fever broke last night, and he’s been up for a couple of hours now.”

“And not too loopy from the meds yet,” Benedict added with a huge smile.

“Benedict!  How good it is to see you up and about, Love!” exclaimed Wanda tearfully as she went and enveloped him in a tight bear hug.  “We were so worried about you!”

Benedict marveled at how good it felt to be in his mother’s comforting arms.  _No matter how old I may be, there’s nothing on earth more soothing than my mother’s hug.  I really am glad they came home.  I miss the fuck out of them whenever they go away for the winter.  
_

Wanda kissed him on both cheeks and stepped aside so her husband could also hug him.  Timothy pulled Benedict tightly against him and patted his back. 

“You gave us a terrible scare, Benedict,” he said in a voice, thick with emotion.

“It wasn’t my intent to upset anyone. You didn’t have to rush home on my account,” Benedict protested weakly.  He could feel tears running down his cheeks and could see that his father’s hazel eyes were moist.  _I'm so damn soppy sometimes, and so are my parents._ _I'm a credit to them._

“We certainly weren’t going to stay in Greece whilst our son was seriously ill in London,” said Wanda, wiping her eyes with a handkerchief.  She automatically reached up and blotted Benedict’s face.

“Yes, we did have to rush home; and I don’t want to hear another word about it,” said Timothy with mock sternness as he wiped his eyes.  “We needed to see you for ourselves – not that we didn’t believe Donna and Steve.  That’s how we are – we wanted – needed - to see you with our own eyes.”

Benedict smiled at them as he draped his arms around both of them.  “I’m actually very pleased that you’re both here.”   He sniffed back the tears that threatened to form again.  “It’s so good to see you both.  I’ve been missing you all more than I can properly express!” he said, looking straight at Donna.  “Even though I was very busy, there was still times when I was feeling very lonely in Cardiff.”

“Well, we’re all together now, Love,” said Wanda, reaching up to pat his cheek.  “We can have a nice visit.”

“Are you up to eating some lunch?” Donna asked him. 

“As long as it’s not soup,” replied Benedict with a chuckle.  “I think I’m ready to be a bit more adventurous.”  He suddenly began to cough.  “Oy!  My ribs hurt so damn much from this fucking coughing!”

“Steve says the cough will linger for a few weeks,” Donna explained as soon as she saw the concern on Wanda and Timothy’s faces.

“Hopefully, the diarrhea from the antibiotics won’t last as long,” sighed Benedict.  “I’ve never taken anything that made me so fucking sick.  I feel as if my head were in the clouds most of the time and so weak.  I feel as if I can’t muster any energy!” 

“Which reminds me that you’re due for your cough syrup,” said Donna, heading over to the breakfast bar where she had his medicine bottles lined up. “At least you can stop taking the paracetamol.”

Benedict noticed that his biscuit jar was filled with chocolate chip cookies and there was a vase full of fresh flowers on the countertop as well. “Who are these lovely flowers from?”  He accepted the plastic dosing cup of medicine and held his nose whilst he swallowed it so as not to taste it.  Despite his efforts, Benedict could still taste it in the back of his throat, causing him to shudder.  "Bloody hell! This is nasty-tasting shit!"

“I brought the flowers on Saturday to cheer you up," said Donna.  "They still look good.”

“I don’t remember your giving them to me.”

“You were too sick to care about anything at the time.  You told me to shove them in a bloody vase and that you’d look at them later.”

“ _I’m_ supposed to be the one giving _you_ flowers each week,” Benedict said sadly. 

“Well, this week it’s my turn to do something nice for you for a change of pace.”

“Thank you, Darling.  I am truly blessed to have you in my life.”  Benedict smiled at Donna as he addressed his parents.  “She’s taken the most extraordinary care of me.  I could not have wanted for anything.  It really is an embarrassment of riches to have a special someone who loves you that much.”

“You’re an easy patient to take care of,” said Donna, returning the smile.  “All you did is sleep.”

“Rubbish!  You’ve been obviously cleaning up a storm as I vaguely recall leaving this flat in absolute shambles and now everything is pristine and tidy again.”

“And disinfected,” Donna gave him a cheeky smile. “You were sleeping so much that I thought I’d use my free time to straighten up.  I wanted to do it for you.”

“You’re utterly amazing, Love. I’m in awe that you somehow managed to get the bed sheets changed whenever I sweated through them, which must have been quite a chore.  You never failed to give me my medications on schedule.  You sat with me and put cold compresses on my forehead and helped me to the loo because I felt so weak and could barely stand on my own two feet. You made the most delectable homemade chicken and beef broths for me along with countless mugs of tea and brought me water and freshly-squeezed juices.”

“Well, the credit for the beef broth and apple and carrot juices goes to your mom, so I can’t take credit for those,” laughed Donna.

“I’ll gladly take the credit for the beef broth; but I’m afraid to say that the juice bar in Hampstead gets credit for the juices,” added Wanda.

“So speaking of food, can I interest anyone in lunch?” asked Donna, lifting a covered dish out of the tote bag.

“Do I detect the scent of tarragon?” inquired Benedict, sniffing the air.  “And your famous roast chicken?”  He raised an eyebrow and regarded his mother with a sly smile. 

“You’re always spot on, bless that little nose of yours,” laughed Wanda.

“That sniffer of yours remains the Pride of Penhaligon’s,” added Timothy. “You’re a true credit to your former supervisor.”

“He had nothing to do with my ability to detect scents,” explained Benedict.  “It’s just something you’re born with it.”

“Shall I make some rice to go with the chicken?” asked Donna.  “I bought some haricot vert that I could sauté with some sliced almonds.”

“There’s no need, Donna.  We’ve got the side dishes and the pudding covered,” said Timothy.  “We know how hard you’ve been working to take such brilliant care of our son and thought you deserved a break from cooking.”

“I really appreciate it.  You guys have been wonderful.”

“The other three containers are for the mash, vegetables and the sauce,” Wanda said to Donna.  “There’s also a banoffee pie in the other bag.” Then she turned to Benedict.  “I hope you feel up to eating something.”

“I’m sure I can manage some chicken and a slice of your pie,” replied Benedict.  “Your banoffee pie is truly nectar of the Gods – just what the doctor ordered.”

“The doctor ordered lots and lots of fluids,” said Donna.

Benedict waved a dismissive hand.  “Well, the doctor can piss off.  I’m ready to have a go at a proper meal now.”

“You didn’t let me finish, Benedict.  The doctor also said that you can eat normally as soon as you felt up to it.”

“Well, I feel more than up to it. You know damn well what a tart I am for Mum’s roast chicken and banoffee pie.”

“The goal was to bring something that would tempt you,” said Timothy with a wink.

“And tempt me you have! The smells emanating from those containers have certainly done the trick, as I find myself right famished,” replied Benedict, rubbing his stomach.  “I can’t wait to sink my teeth into some good, solid food.  That fucking antibiotic is doing a number on my stomach as well.”

“Well, in that case, I’m going to set the table while you visit with your parents,” said Donna.

 

 

After lunch, Benedict found that he was still tiring easily and excused himself so he could have a lie down. Wanda and Timothy insisted on doing the washing up whilst Donna sat and relaxed with a book in the lounge. It hadn’t come as a complete surprise to her when Benedict had requested that they postpone the dessert course for later on. 

Two hours had passed before he woke up and joined them in the lounge.  Donna served coffee and banoffee pie whilst Wanda and Timothy filled Benedict in on the latest goings on in Greece. Then Benedict began to tell them what had been going on during _Sherlock_ filming.  Tim and Wanda had particularly enjoyed the story of Benedict and his green hair before the talk had turned to the mishaps that had occurred during the filming.

“When can you go back to set?” asked Wanda.  “Surely, they weren’t chuffed that you had to miss filming.”

“That must have set their schedule and budget back,” added Timothy.

“Steve said I can return to work twenty-four hours after my fever breaks – so technically I could go back as early as tomorrow; but I can’t.”

“Why not?” inquired Wanda.

“Because production has been shut down this week due to all sorts of mishaps,” replied Benedict.  “We’ll resume filming on Monday in Cardiff.”

“Sue Vertue told me when we met the other day that they had to shut down filming for the remainder of the week as Paul McGuigan, the director, had come down with the flu as well,” explained Donna. 

Benedict cast a wary side-eyed glance at his fiancée.  _Donna met with Sue?  Why?  I thought she and Steve had done a conference call when we got back from the A &E. What fresh hell is this?_

“So, Martin and Paul are both ill then?” asked Timothy.  “You had mentioned in one of your emails that several things had gone awry during the week.”

_I thought Donna had been by my side this whole time.  It seems I was wrong unless Sue came around here.  Why?  Did she not think I was ill? I know if Sue had mentioned that I just had ‘man flu’ one more time, I was going to deck her!  Surely Donna would have put her in her place.  My darling is as fiercely protective of me as Mum is.  
_

“Ben?” Timothy prodded him.

“Hmmm?”

“As you were.”

“Were what?”

“You were about to tell us what happened during filming.”

“Oh.  Yes.  That.  Well, the first day we filmed mostly indoor shots at what was supposed to be Connie Prince’s home in Hampstead.  There was a live cat in the scene, and it wasn’t easy to work with.  John Sessions and Martin had to handle it.  Martin was lucky to come away unscathed; but John wasn’t – by the end of the day the poor sod was covered in scratches and blood.  I said to our First Assistant Toby Ford: Why did you put the cat on the first day?!  It’s difficult enough going onto the set for the first time and that it is a bit of a weird thing to do suddenly, and with this animal as well – this uncontrollable element in an otherwise controlled situation.”

“Working with live animals is always unpredictable,” said Wanda.  “I’ve worked with some that posed quite a challenge.”

“Even the best trained ones can sometimes wreak havoc on set,” added Timothy.   “There was once a bird that kept shitting all over everything.  I couldn’t wait to get back to my trailer so I could wash the crap out of my hair!”

“What a way to start off filming,” commented Donna.

“It gets better. The second day of filming we were almost snowed in at a morgue we were shooting in.  We were so busy that no one noticed it had begun to snow.  It was coming down at quite a clip by the time one of the crew went outside for a smoke break.  He immediately ran back inside suggesting we wrap for the day.  We had to be dug out, so we could return to the hotel.  Now we take care to mind the weather forecast.”

“They had you filming scenes in a real morgue?” asked Donna.

“Yeah, it was actually brand new and really rather interesting to see.  We watched the first Prime Ministerial debate in the morticians’ green room.”

“We also watched the debate,” said Timothy.  “It was interesting.”

“Then the next day we were set to film the St Bart’s lab scenes at Cardiff University. Martin was coming out of his three-way trailer with a bowl of porridge in his hand – he was on his way to the makeup trailer - and slipped on the icy steps.  He said he came down - like a sack of spuds – to use his words; and landed with all his weight on his wrist.”

“OH, no!” exclaimed Wanda.  “Did the poor man break his wrist?”

“I hope Martin is okay,” said Donna.

“Luckily, it turned out to be a hairline fracture; so he’s been wearing a removable cast.  However, Martin was in no shape to film that day; so they filmed all they could of me working in the lab – the close-ups and such.  We’re scheduled to return to finish up the scene near the end of filming this episode.”

“Didn’t you film any of the Baker Street scenes yet?” asked Donna.

“Nope.  We haven’t stepped foot on the set yet.  Martin and I can’t wait to see it because the look is different from the one we shot the pilot on.”

“Sounds like it was an eventful week,” quipped Timothy.

“It was.  Thursday we filmed more outdoor scenes.  We also had a late afternoon/evening shoot in an abandoned tunnel.  That was actually great fun, though my energy reserve was totally depleted by then. Somehow, I managed to soldier on in spite of how awful I was feeling.”

“And no one noticed that you were so ill during the whole time?” inquired Wanda as she pushed her sleeves up over her elbows.

“Oh, they noticed; but everyone kept brushing it off as ‘man flu’...particularly Sue,” sniffed Benedict.  “I bet she…”

“Your producers were in as much denial about your being sick as you were,” interrupted Donna.   
  
“What I find particularly annoying is that even though I was mindful to try and take care of myself, I still managed to catch the fucking flu.  I made sure to do my Bikram yoga and swimming every day.  I never failed to take my daily dose of raw honey...and yet…”  Benedict let his voice trail off.

“I haven’t heard any mention made of when you were getting any rest,” said Wanda. 

“You were still sick when you got to Cardiff,” added Timothy.  “You hadn’t completely gotten over the bloody flu in the first place, so Steve said the conditions were right for a secondary infection to settle in.”

Benedict sipped some water and sighed.  “You’re both right, of course.  The hours on set were long.  We were in makeup bright and early each morning and often finishing up later than planned.  Then everyone would have dinner together and hang out in the hotel bar to unwind and socialize a bit…alright perhaps it was more than a bit.  After that, I’d go up to my room to learn my lines.  By the time I actually got to bed, it was late, and then before I knew it the wakeup call roused me from sleep.”

“You obviously let yourself get run down,” declared Donna.  “You were burning the candle on both ends way before the filming began, Ben Honey.”

Benedict’s face took on a guilty expression.   He moistened his lips with the lip balm he had stashed in the pocket of his robe and nodded.  “That’s quite true, Darling.  The outdoor locations were beyond freezing, especially when we were filming in this perfectly Gothic old railway tunnel in Barry where Sherlock and John track down the Gollum in.  I do wish you all could have seen it – well you will when you see the finished product.  It was dripping with damp and full of smoke and soot from the braziers.  I think the next day was when the pneumonia developed in earnest.  I didn’t realize it because I was consumed by playing Holmes.  I was throwing myself into it with no real rest to speak of.  I guess in reality, I was in utter denial, having too much fun because I love the character so much!”

Timothy shook his head.  “Oh, you idiot boy!  You compromised your health.”

“I wasn’t thinking, Dad.”

 _Hmmm…there’s always trouble when they think and when they don’t,_ thought Timothy with amusement. 

“It was fairly obvious that you weren’t thinking clearly,” said Wanda.  “You could have died, Ben!”

“Oh, I wasn’t _that_ sick,” scoffed Benedict, rolling his eyes. “You’re so dramatic, Mum!”

“Well, I beg to differ,” insisted Wanda.  “A fever of thirty-nine degrees is nothing to make light of.”

“You were _very_ sick,” snapped Donna.  “Your mother is not being dramatic, she’s being concerned.  We were all very concerned about you.”

“I imagine Holmes probably got pneumonia on a couple of occasions in Victorian London.  I got flu and kept braving through it while green stuff was coming out of me.  I was told:  You’ve got man flu, have a couple of paracetamols; but when it’s not nice having liquid on your lung and it takes a long time to recover – the irritating thing is that I was so disciplined and living a very healthy existence.  I’d swim a lot, do my Bikram yoga and eat healthily.”

“Keep telling yourself that, Ben Honey; but it’s not going to change the fact that you’ve got to balance it all with rest.  You can still pick up something no matter how careful you are or aren’t,” retorted Donna. 

“I was really annoyed with myself for getting flu in the first place – I should have made it my business to get that fucking shot; but I kept putting if off.  I did myself a bit of damage by not acknowledging that I needed a rest.”

“You look knackered, Love,” said Wanda, patting her son’s hand.  “Why don’t you try and get some sleep yes?  Your father and I are going to take our leave now so you can get some proper rest.”

“I agree,” said Timothy.  “It’s time we’ve left anyway.”

 

 

Later that evening, Donna entered Benedict’s bedroom to find him sitting up in bed, reading _The Adventure of the Bruce Partington Plans_ by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.   She climbed into the bed and squirted some hand lotion from a tube she kept in the nightstand into her left palm. 

“Doing your homework?”  She teased, rubbing the lavender-scented lotion into her hands.

“Yep.  Mark used parts of this story in _The Great Game_ , so I thought I’d have a read of it.”

“How is it?”

“Very good – as are all Conan Doyle’s stories.”

“Well, enjoy your book.  I’m calling it a night – I’m exhausted.” Donna leaned over to give Benedict a kiss on the cheek.  “Good night, Ben Honey. I’m so happy you’re feeling better.” 

Benedict stopped reading, bookmarked the page and placed the book on his night stand.  He regarded Donna through narrowed eyes.  “I’m curious about something.”

Warning bells went off in Donna’s head.  _Oh, no!  It can only mean one thing:  whenever he starts off a conversation like that, Barrister Ben is about to put me on the witness stand!  Why?  Oh, why?  What did I do or not do?  
_

Donna met his ice blue gaze.  His eyes seemed to bore right into the depths of her soul.

_Oh, my God…did Wanda or Tim say anything about the Plan that he might have over heard?? I guess I could always blame it on his fevered mind playing tricks on him.  Ha ha!  No…I’m sure we never discussed it. What could it be? I might as well take my poison and be done with it._

Donna gulped inaudibly. “What?”

“When exactly did you meet with Sue Vertue?”

_Barrister Ben has definitely made a speedy recovery.  Why is he asking me this?  I had already emailed him about it last week.  Maybe he forgot being he’s been so sick, but he was with her – she must have said something to him.  
_

“We got together on Monday.”

Benedict raised an eyebrow at her. “Sue came here? Whilst I was sick?”

“No! I would never have someone come over while you were so sick.  Steve volunteered to stay with you, while Carly and I met with Sue at Carldonn.  That seemed to be the best place to meet, especially since we wanted to give her a tour of the kitchen.”

Benedict scratched his head and frowned at her. “Am I missing something?”

“Well, I’m not sure. What do you think you’re missing?  You haven’t been left out of anything except the final negotiations.”

“Negotiations of what, pray tell?”  Demanded Benedict.  He folded his arms across his chest and continued to stare at her.  “If you’d be so kind as to regale me with all of the details about these mystery negotiations, _Sweetheart_ ; I’d be ever so grateful.”

_And that was the snotty version of sweetheart.  He seems completely clueless. Why do I have the feeling that someone wasn’t reading all of his emails last week?_

“In a nutshell:  Carldonn Creative Catering is going to cater the _Sherlock_ London location shoots.”

Benedict blinked at her in disbelief.  “Bloody hell!  Are you mad?”

“No, but you seem to be.”

“Don’t be snarky with me, Donna!  I don’t recall your discussing this with me.”

“I had to go to New York unexpectedly; then you went to Cardiff and came home sick.  When has there been time for us to sit down and talk about anything?”

“Didn’t we meet in Paddington Station the morning I headed out to Cardiff or was that another woman I was kissing?”

“There wasn’t enough time to tell you the whole story; so I opted to email you instead.”

_What emails?  I don’t recall getting any emails from her about catering Sherlock._

“I can’t believe you and Carly solicited Sue Vertue for business!”

“Whoa hoa here, Benedict!  You seem to have no clue as to what’s going on, and now you’re jumping to conclusions.  Neither Carly nor I solicited Sue Vertue to hire us.  She’s the one who contacted us.  It was Mark Gatiss who called me from the _Sherlock_ read-through and gave us a heads up that he might be bringing Sue around to sample our food. He never said why exactly, but we drew our own conclusions that there was a distinct possibility that something might come of it.  However, Mark has brought in friends of his many times before; so that was also a possibility. The thought never even occurred to us to go after the business until the afternoon Sue and Mark Gatiss actually showed up at Carldonn looking for dinner.”

“You purposely kept this from me!  I thought there were to be no secrets between us, Donna,” Benedict said angrily.

_At first, I did decide not to tell him until I had heard Sue’s proposition…no…it was out of fear that he’d get pissed off like Steve did when Carly told him.  Then once Sue contacted us there was no reason to hide it from him; so I emailed him in Cardiff and made sure to keep him abreast of the negotiations.  He definitely hasn’t read any of my emails about it._

“What secret?   It sounds to me as if you haven’t been reading all of my emails while you were in Cardiff.”

“Which emails are you referring to?”

“All the ones entitled ‘New Catering Job’ in the subject line.”

Benedict’s face flushed and he rubbed the back of his neck.  “Erm…yeah, I did see a flurry of emails with that heading.”

“And did you read any of them?”

“Erm…no.  I was so fucking busy that I thought you were just prattling on about a business lunch or hen party you were asked to cater.”

“How nice to know that you think I ‘prattle on’ in my emails.”  _Ha!_ _This coming from the man whose emails normally read like War and Peace._ “That had a decidedly sarcastic edge to it, Benedict.”

“It was meant to.  Bloody hell, Donna!  I did read all the emails you sent pertaining to our wedding – those were of paramount importance to me.”

“So the emails that I sent you, sharing what I thought was a very interesting and exciting opportunity…”

“Wait a minute please…”

“… as well as asking for your advice…”

 _Shit, why didn’t I read them?  I’m fucked._   _Hmmm…now I recall Steve had also emailed me under that same email but I thought he was just making some sort of snarky comment like he often does whenever he thinks Donna and Carly are over the top with their enthusiasm.  My favourite were the emails he sent commenting on their monkfish special._

“…and you never bothered reading them.  Why do I bother sending you emails if you’re not reading them?”

“Bollocks!  I always read your emails.”

“Not this time.  You just admitted you didn’t.”

“Jesus fucking Christ!  Is that how I sound when you all refer to me as Barrister Ben?”

Donna nodded.  “Yep.  Obnoxious, isn’t it?”

“Darling, I adore your emails and look forward to hearing from you…except for this time.  I was beyond knackered, sick as a dog and there wasn’t enough time in the day to get to it all.  No, I didn’t make time to read those because I didn’t deem them a priority at the time; for which I’m truly sorry.  Truth be told, our wedding is of prime importance to me, not the goings on at Carldonn.”

“Well, this is why you don’t know what’s going on.  I understand that you were stressed and pressed for time and had to make choices.  Yes, your work should come first; but don’t get pissy with me because you’re just now finding out what happened.”

Benedict took a deep breath, coughed and sipped some water.  “What happened then?”

“According to Mark, Sue finally accepted that the caterer they were using in London was no longer owned by the same people and were cutting corners.  He managed to maneuver her over to Carldonn on the pretense that he needed to buy something for dinner that night, and she wound up bringing home dinner for her family as well.  This all happened while Carly and I were in New York.  Sue and her family were very impressed; and she decided to set up a meeting with us to discuss the possibility of catering _Sherlock_ London location shoots.”

“Sue never made mention of this to me”

“She probably incorrectly assumed you knew all about it from me.”

“When did she call you?”

“When Carly and I were on the Heathrow Express headed back to London, I found a message from her on my cellphone.”  Donna got up and retrieved her cellphone. “Here let me play it for you and the one from Mark that I got.” 

Benedict listened to both messages and handed the mobile back to her.

“These messages are from the Saturday night prior to my going to Cardiff.  You and I met up in Paddington Sunday morning.  Why didn’t you tell me then?”

“Crap!  I thought we just went through this! Because you were in a hurry to catch a train, and there was nothing to tell at that moment.  I sent you the first email Sunday night after I returned her call.”

“And you didn’t find it unusual that I never responded?”

“To be honest, when you didn’t respond, I assumed you were too busy to answer; but okay with it.  Normally, when you don’t agree with something – like when you didn’t care for some of the wedding cake flavors that Giada suggested – you responded immediately.”

“Sue never said a word to me about it.”

“As I just said, that’s probably because she assumed you and I had been keeping in touch about it.  How was she to know you only selectively read your emails?”

“Can you please dispense with the snark?  I’m sorry for not reading all my fucking emails and taking it out on you.  I love you, Donna, and don’t want to how a row over a fait accompli.  Please forgive me?”

“Okay, I forgive you,” said Donna, leaning over to kiss him on the lips.  “But don’t let it happen again!”

“So how did you manage to make a proposal that was agreeable to Sue?  I know the BBC gave them a very small budget to work with.”

“Apparently, she and the other producers sat down and discussed where they could cut corners and came up with a number before we met.   Sue gave us that number and asked us to come up with a catering plan that would meet it.”

“And that was?”

“We came to an agreement that by simply cutting back on the variety, we could manage to fall within her budget.  Instead of offering six sandwiches, we do three.  Same with the soups – we offer two rather than four.  This was the approach we took for all meals; and Sue ran our quote by the other producers…”

“Mark, Steven and Beryl.”

“…and they were pleased and accepted our quote.”

“What about _Dr. Who_?  Have you considered that the two shows shooting schedules might overlap?”

“Yes, and Sue got the _Dr. Who_ schedule and confirmed that it doesn’t.  They’ll be in Cardiff when _Sherlock_ comes to London.”

“This time it doesn’t.”

“And if the two shows manage to overlap on future episodes, how will you sort it out?”

“We’ll find a way.”

“That’s daft.  You don’t have a fucking plan in place do you?”

“We’ve been working on one.”

“You’re going to need one.”

“We realize it.”

“Have I told you I think you and Carly are daft to take this on?”

“You’ve told me several times – twice in the last minute.”

“I thought you were going to dispense with the snark.”

“When you stop calling us crazy.”

“I said daft.”

“Who’s being snarky now?”

Benedict took a deep breath and sighed.  “I take it that Steve isn’t on board with this.”

“Not completely.”

“Nor should he be.  Christ, I wish I knew…had read those emails… before you went and signed anything!”

“It’s okay. We asked Dennis and Mom to review the contract before we signed anything.”

“You signed it as is?”

“Nope.  Mom and Dennis both suggested a few little tweaks here and there.”

“I really hate it when I’m being kept in the dark.”

“You kept yourself in the dark.”

“I detest secrets.”

“This doesn’t qualify as a secret technically.  You just didn’t read your email.”

_Now, the Plan qualifies as a big secret that not only am I keeping; but your parents, my parents and Carly.  I can’t even fathom what he reaction would be.  
_

“Well, being we’re on the subject of secrets; I’ve got one of my own that I’ve been dying to tell you,” said Benedict with a sly smile. 

_Hmm…he’s got a secret that he’s dying to tell, and I’ve got one that I’m desperate he won’t find out._

“If you’re not supposed to tell me, I wouldn’t want you to breach a confidence.”

“No, it’s all fine now.  I was waiting to hear back from John is all before I said anything to you.”

“John Grant?”

Benedict nodded.  “Yep.  Fancy taking a guess?”

“If it was a call from your agent, then that means it has something to do with an acting job.”

Benedict smiled at her.  “Whilst you were seeing Mum and Dad out, I got a call from John saying that he finally was able to get me an audition for _The Hobbit_!”

Donna’s eyes widened as she bounced up and down on the bed.  Oh my God!  That’s going to be a huge franchise!  What role are you auditioning for?”

“Smaug, the dragon,” replied Benedict with a grin.  “My audition is set for Friday afternoon with the UK Casting Director.”

Donna threw her arms around his neck and peppered his face with kisses.  “Wow!  Smaug!!  Oh my gosh, Ben Honey! I’m so proud of you! This can be a really big thing!  I read that Peter Jackson plans on doing five movies! Did you tell your parents yet?”

“No, not yet!  I haven’t said a word to either of them about it.  I want to see how the audition goes first.  Dad would be over the moon if he knew as he’s responsible for my love of Tolkien’s books.  He brought to life for me this already extraordinary world of hobbits and dragons when I was six or seven.  His Smaug was spellbinding; but then Dad is an extraordinary actor.  It was a very rich way to be introduced to such an incredible book.”

“Tim will be thrilled if you land the role.”

“It’s a bit premature yet, Love.  I first have to audition.  I’m sure they will audition quite a few actors for the part.  I don’t want to get his hopes up – only to have to dash them.  So, with that in mind, I beg that you please keep my secret.”

“Of course, I will. I won’t tell them anything.”

_What’s another big secret to carry around? However, I’m holding the biggest secret of all.  Good gravy!  
_

“You’re not cross that I didn’t tell you, are you?” Benedict asked her. “I know we said we’d never have secrets from each other and here I go breaking my promise.”

_You weren’t the first to break that promise; but every time I tried to tell you, you’ve stopped me.  
_

“Ben Honey, there is really is that one thing I’ve been wanting to tell you about for quite some time now…”

Benedict placed his index finger on her lips to silence her.  “I meant it when I said I don’t want either of us to bring up things that happened in our pasts.”

“I know, but…”

“Have you been unfaithful to me?”

“NO!”

“That’s all that would matter to me.”

_Oh, you’d be surprised what matters…this would matter a great deal to you. He’s starting to get annoyed, and he’s just starting to feel better. I’m going to leave this for another time; but I want to discuss it with Wanda and Tim first.  I think he needs to know about the Plan. What we’re doing isn’t right._

“I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me for not telling you about Smaug.  I just didn’t want to get your hopes up and not get the audition.  I’m anxious enough for us both.”

Donna Saint James smiled at Benedict Cumberbatch and hugged him tightly.

“I’m not angry or upset about the audition.  This is a big deal, and I completely understand your reasons for keeping it a secret and forgive you for not telling me.”

_The question remains if you were to find out about my secret, would you be understanding of my reasons and willing to forgive me in return?_

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. This week we have an extra long chapter, which I hope will make up for my computer acting up last week. 
> 
> 2\. The anecdotes about Sherlock filming and Benedict's flu came from various interviews done with him and Martin and from the DVD commentary transcipt that Ariane Devere made. 
> 
> 3\. Apparently, Martin really did slip and fall on the icy steps outside his dressing room trailer and injured his wrist. They filmed around him that day and when he returned he was wearing a removable cast that he took off when filming. 
> 
> 4\. As I said in the last chapter, there are various accounts floating around as to exactly how long Benedict was out sick. I also came across an interview where they mentioned that the director, Paul McGuigan, also got sick during filming. 
> 
> 5\. I wanted to have a little conflict between Donna and Steve when it came to telling Wanda and Tim. I think that Wanda and Tim would have come home no matter what to be with their son. 
> 
> 6\. I wanted to show the photos of the pilot Baker Street and the current one.


	176. Chapter 176

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is now April 2010 and Benedict is filming “A Study in Pink” in Cardiff. Donna’s day gets off on the wrong foot. Benedict and Martin trade secrets. 
> 
> Warnings: Please note that an appearance by Martin Freeman means there will be more swearing than usual in this chapter. There is also a scene which features a good deal of off-color teasing. If easily offended, feel free to skip to last third of chapter.
> 
> Note: I’ll be using *************** for things happening at the same time.

 

 

On the eve of his wedding anniversary each year, Benedict Cumberbatch would take time out to be alone and reflect on the many blessings that life had bestowed upon him – one of them being his lovely wife, Donna.  Once his family had gone to bed, Benedict would sit in his study in front of a roaring fire with a tipple of sherry as he contemplated this embarrassment of riches.  However, Benedict’s memory would inevitably whisk him back to that fateful day whilst filming _Sherlock_ in Cardiff when he got the surprise of his life…

 

Late April 2010:

It had been a particularly stormy week in Cardiff, and Benedict Cumberbatch was thankful to have spent most of his time inside the Upper Boat Studios rather than doing outdoor shoots in the wind and pouring rain.  Upper Boat Studios was a television studio that had been leased to the BBC in the village of Upper Boat in Wales, and shows such as _Sherlock_ and _Dr. Who_ were amongst those filmed there. 

The _Sherlock_ cast and crew had just about completed the re-shooting of the longer version of _A Study in Pink_ and the indoor Baker Street scenes were scheduled to wrap the next day. The only work left to do would be to shoot the outdoor London scenes, including those on Gower Street in London, which doubled as Baker Street.   The producers had decided that Baker Street would have been a nightmare to shoot in; so the recce team had come up with the much quieter Gower Street as an acceptable alternative.

Friday morning, Benedict found himself once again on the 221B Baker Street Set, which he loved working on.  The crew had built the set with such attention to details that it exuded a warm and homey atmosphere that he and Martin often marveled that they felt as if they really were in Holmes and Watson’s flat.  This time the cast included himself, Martin Freeman, Una Stubbs, Rupert Graves, Jonathan Aries, Vinette Robinson and Phil Davis – all of whom were all crowded into what was supposed to be Sherlock and John’s lounge and kitchen along with various extras and crew members milling about the set.

The pivotal scene involved Sherlock and John returning to Baker Street to find that Inspector Lestrade and several police personnel had invaded their flat on the pretense of a drugs bust.  Mark Gatiss, Steven Moffat, Beryl and Sue Vertue were also present for the filming of what was to be the second to last scene shot in Cardiff before returning to London for the outdoor location shooting. The scene was a very complex one and was requiring several takes. 

Around eleven, director, Paul McGuigan, had called cut in order to have a brief conference with Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss. The cast was asked to stay put as the director and producers watched the footage playback on one of the cameras.  Benedict, Martin and Rupert spent the time discussing the news that _The Hobbit_ movie project had been put on hold due to MGM Studios’ bankruptcy.  Benedict’s high hopes for being cast as Smaug had been dashed whilst he was having his hair styled earlier.  He had seen the announcement as it crawled across the bottom of the screen of the makeup trailer’s telly.

Luckily, the conference turned out to be quick; and Paul called for an early lunch break so the lighting could be adjusted and Steven Moffat could do a brief re-write of some of Sherlock’s dialog.  The cast left the set and filed out of the large, cavernous studio in search of bathrooms, a smoke break or food.   Benedict and Martin had fallen into step beside each other as they headed towards the Blue Box Café, which was the studio’s canteen, in order to get some lunch. 

“In light of our conversation with Rupert just now, I want to share some exciting news with you,” began Benedict in a low voice as they walked along.  “But I don’t want any of the others to overhear what I’m about to say.”

“Funny, Mate, I was going to say the same to you,” said Martin in an equally low voice, as he pointedly looked over his shoulder to make sure they weren’t being overheard.  “Okay - no one’s within earshot.  As you were, Ben.”

Benedict grimaced as he rubbed the back of neck. “On second thought, I don’t know how exciting this really is in light of today’s news about MGM; but for what it’s worth, I had auditioned for the role of Smaug back in January.”

Martin chuckled.  “Funny that. I also auditioned for them back in January; but for the role of Bilbo Baggins.  It seems Peter Jackson was very interested in me and contacted my agent.  I was very flattered and excited about a trilogy when I heard; so I went and sat with the UK casting directors and auditioned.”

“You would have made a brilliant Bilbo Baggins.”

“You would have made a brilliant Smaug.”

The two men fell silent as a group of extras walked past them from the opposite direction.  Martin cleared his throat, glanced behind them and continued the conversation.

“I would say well done us; but the cock suckers had to go fucking bankrupt; so I’m not putting much hope in anything coming of it.”

“I had been wondering why I hadn’t heard back on my audition; but this morning’s news seems to hold the answer.”

“Yeah, so it would seem,” agreed Martin sadly.   “Its bollocks is what it is.”

“It’s a pity as I would have loved to have played Smaug.  My Dad used to read the Tolkien stories aloud to me when I was a small.  He was my inspiration for my audition.”

“Does your dad know you auditioned?”

“No!  I had planned on surprising him with the news, had I have gotten it.  Dad would have been so over the moon.  To know that and then find out things didn’t work out for me, would have disappointed him terribly.”

“I’m sure Amanda’s right disappointed about it,” said Martin.  “We were both pretty stoked about the possibility.”

“You rang her then?”

“No.  We haven’t spoken yet today.  However, Amanda watches the news on the kitchen telly every morning whilst she’s making breakfast; so I’m fairly certain she knows about it already.  Have you spoken with Donna?”

“No.  I first saw the news when I was in makeup. Being Donna works at the Tribune; the odds are excellent that she knows by now as well,” said Benedict. 

“And if Donna doesn’t hear it on the news; I’m sure her twat father will tell her yes?”

“Neil doesn’t know I’ve auditioned for Smaug, even though he’s a huge Tolkien fan.  I didn’t want the bastard to know.”

Martin looked truly surprised by Benedict’s revelation. “May I ask why the fuck not, Ben?  I’d had thought you’d relish the opportunity to rub the prick’s nose in it.”

“If I did land the role, I’d absolutely delight in rubbing his fucking nose in it.  However, if I had told him and wasn’t offered the role; it would just give him another opportunity to rub some more salt in my wounds.  Now that it seems to be a moot point; there’s absolutely no reason in mentioning it at all.  I save face that way.”

“I see your point,” murmured Martin.  “The man’s still such a cock on general principle.”

“Truer words were never spoken,” laughed Benedict.   “Anyway, we’re blessed to have this plum gig for as long as it lasts.”

“I’ve enjoyed every minute of filming so far. Let’s hope the show does well in the ratings, and we get picked up for a second season.”

“From your mouth to God’s ears,” said Benedict.  “I could certainly use the money for all the house renovations Donna and I have planned.”

“You’re definitely staying in Hampstead then?”

“Yeah. The sale went through; so we own the whole house now.  We sat down with an architect to draw up plans to convert it into a one-family dwelling; so we’re just waiting for approval from the Planning Committee, which I warned Donna can take an age.”

“Unless they don’t approve it – then you hear back from the bastards right away,” quipped Martin.

“Shit.  I hope not…though I see no reason why they wouldn’t approve it.  Everything was done properly.”

“Shall I tick off all the possible things that might piss off the wankers on a Planning Committee? Let’s start with your neighbors.  They might not fancy your plans and can put a stop to the application for all sorts of bollocks reasons.”

Benedict looked momentarily startled.  “I went around to my neighbors on either side of me and across the road to inform them of our plans, and everyone seemed alright with them.”

“But what about the people who don’t live in the immediate vicinity – say behind you...”

"There's no one directly behind us.  The house is on a hill that looks down."

"That doesn't matter, Ben.  I'm also talking about the neighbors who live three or even four houses down the road on either side of the road.  What about them?"

"I have the loveliest neighbors, Martin.  Truly.  I cannot bear the thought that any of them would try and spoil our plans."

"You may think they're lovely - and they really may be; however, this is also a prime opportunity for you to learn if any of them are true wankers."

"Christ, I hope not."

"The complaints doen't even necessarily have to come from people who live on the same road as you.  They can come from another road in the immediate vicinity.  Have you considered that?"

“Fuck me!  I never even gave any thought to that possibility.  Do you think people could actually be bothered by something that isn’t right next to them?”

Martin nodded and gave him a grim half smile.  “You’d be surprised what turns out to be a bother to people, Ben.  You’ll just have to wait and see.  Hopefully, none of your neighbors will bitch and things will turn out the way you want them to.”

 

****************************************************

 

Donna Saint James had stopped by what was now her and Benedict’s home in Hampstead to water his plants and take in the mail.  The sale of the house had gone through without any problems, and Bob had moved out two weeks earlier.  Donna let herself in the foyer and gathered up the mail that had collected on the floor after having been pushed through the slot in the front door.

Upon entering Benedict’s apartment, Donna put the mail on the breakfast bar alongside her shopping bags.  She then went from room-to-room, opening the windows in order to let in some fresh air before the forecasted rain arrived.  Then Donna filled his glass cookie jar with freshly-baked raspberry thumbprint cookies and stashed fresh milk and some other perishable items in his refrigerator.  Benedict was due home from Cardiff that evening; but Donna would be out reviewing a restaurant with her team in Chelsea. 

Benedict had given Donna carte blanche to weed out any junk mail as he didn’t have time to look at it all given his schedule, which was about to get even busier between the final _Sherlock_ London location shoot and the start of rehearsals for _After the Dance_.  Donna made herself a cup of decaf English breakfast tea and sat at his roll top desk as she went through the small stack.  She threw out anything that fell into the junk mail category.  The last letter in the pile was addressed to them both from the Camden Town Planning Application Committee.  A sudden surge of excitement ran through her as she happily anticipated the contents of the letter.

_Holy cow! I bet they approved our application for our renovations!  Wow, that was fast!!! Benedict said it would take several weeks before we’d hear back. How great that would be if we could get the addition done and this apartment renovated before the wedding? Benedict will be back in London tonight night; so with any luck we can get things moving by next week.  
_

Donna’s hand trembled with excitement as she used the letter opener to carefully slit open the envelope.  _  
_

_My poor honey could use some good news after hearing that MGM went bankrupt. I’m sure he knows by now.  I’m so glad he asked me not to tell anyone that he had auditioned for Smaug, and I actually listened for a change.  His parents would be so disappointed, and mine would have had a good laugh…maybe.  There’s no predicting how Mom and Dad will react to anything Benedict does.  
_

Donna extracted the letter and felt her heart immediately sink as she read the words.

_Sons of bitches! Our application has been rejected because Benedict’s – our – neighbors filed complaints!  Hmmm…it seems that some of them are pissed off that we’re building a rear addition and doing renovations to the loft and roof terrace. I thought Benedict said he spoke with the next door neighbors and ones directly across the street before we sent in the application and everyone was okay with it.  Crap! What else could possibly go wrong?  
_

 

**************************************************

 

After getting their lunch, Benedict and Martin joined Ruper Graves, Una Stubbs, Jonathan Aries, Vinette Robinson and Phil Davis at a table in the Blue Box Café, which had been named for the Tardis.  The group chatted about a variety of topics as they ate.

“How’s Donna’s lovely granddad doing these days, Ben?” asked Una, taking a tiny bite of her toasted mature cheddar cheese sandwich.

“Colin’s completely recovered from his heart attack and back at the Gramercy Park British Society, where he reigns supreme,” replied Benedict.  “You can’t keep the old boy down.”

“Oh, I’m so glad to hear that.  I know your Mum said Donna was quite worried about him.”

“Colin’s proven to be remarkably resilient.  Oh, by the way, he sends regards.  He knows we’ve been working together this week.”

“That Colin was quite the charmer when I met him at your engagement do,” laughed Una.  “The way he flirts with your mother is sinful!”

“Mum loves every moment,” quipped Benedict, as he added a little more bleu cheese dressing to his grilled chicken salad.  “Dad, not so much; but I assured him that he’s got nothing to worry about.”  _Donna said I should just dip my fork tines in the dressing so I get the taste without the extra calories; but I really fancy this dressing._

“I can’t believe he remembered me from my Rowntree Dairy Box and Nescafe adverts!”

“Which you were lovely in,” said Benedict. 

“And you are still very lovely and incredibly sexy,” added Martin.  “For fucks sake, if I weren’t with Amanda, I’d be taking a fancy to you...actually, I do fancy you immensely.  Have you ever considered having a tryst with a handsome and virile younger man?”

“And who might that be?” inquired Rupert, looking around the room.  “Surely, you weren’t referring to yourself.”

“Fuck off, Mate!  Of course I was talking about myself,” confirmed Martin.  “My sexual prowess is well-known.”

“Is it now?” asked Rupert with amusement.  “You’re just making that shit up!”

“I’m a fucking legend – literally,” retorted Martin with a smug smile.

Rupert laughed uproariously.  “Blimey! You could have fooled me.  I think you’re more like a legend in your own mind.”

“Fuck off! How would you know?”

“For fucks sake, you two, stop that!” exclaimed Una, feigning being indignant. 

“That’s much better,” said Martin.  “I do love it when you show your feisty side, Una.”

“I actually think Colin was quite taken with you, Una,” giggled Benedict.  “Especially, when Donna told him you were single.”  He added another drop of dressing to his salad.

“You’re wrong, Ben. Colin Saint James only has eyes for your mother, I’m afraid,” laughed Una.  “He told me twice during the party that he’s Wanda’s biggest fan.”

Benedict laughed.  “Yeah, when Colin asked Mum to dance he looked just like a nervous lad at his first school dance!”

“He looked like a besotted moon calf,” smirked Una.

“No.  I disagree.  It was fan worship. When he danced with you, he gave off a different type of vibe…a more mature, serious one.”

Una waved him off.  “We were just getting on as friends would.”

“Donna thought Colin was taken with you in a _different_ way,” persisted Benedict.  “I think he was besotted with you myself.”

“Oh, stop that, Ben!  He was just looking for a dance partner is all.”

“I beg to differ,” said Benedict.  “He was definitely chatting you up. You’re a very attractive woman with a brilliant personality – how could he not fancy you?”

Una puckered her lips and blushed furiously.  “He doesn’t fancy me like _that_ , Ben!” she insisted.

_Hmmm…Una’s face has gone a lovely shade of red. Could it be that she’s Colin’s mystery lady-friend?  Talk about hiding in plain sight…._

“Then why is Colin always asking after your health whenever Donna and I Skype call him?”  Benedict raised an eyebrow at her. “Hmmmm?”  He poured a bit more dressing on his salad.  “I think he fancies you.”

“Sounds as if the gentleman fancies you to me, Una,” smiled Vinette.

Martin wrapped an arm around Una’s shoulder and kissed her on the cheek.  “Well, he can’t have her – Una is ours.”

“Una, accept it - you are our resident goddess,” Rupert said to her.  He grinned at Una and winked at her.  “If I weren’t already happily married to Susie, I’d ask you out, Darling.”

Una made a face and sipped her coffee.  “You boys can dispense with taking the piss now.  I’ve had quite enough of that this week, thank you very much!”

Martin laughed.  "And you dished it back to us quite admirably - well done!"

"That story you told on set earlier gave our Martin competition," added Rupert.

"His ears actually turned red," chimed in Jonathan.  "Una doesn't let any grass grow under her feet."

"No, I don't," smiled Una.  "You have to be able to take back what you dish out yes?"  She raised an eyebrow at Benedict.

“Oh, surely you’re not still cross with me for showing your old adverts on set?  I only meant it in good fun.  I was so excited when I came across them on line – we all thought you were brilliant in them!” exclaimed Benedict, wrapping an arm around Una and kissing her on the head. 

Una looked up at him.  “I suppose not.”

Benedict crinkled his nose and gave her a dimpled smile.  “I could really use one of your hugs right now.”

“I might be able to spare one for you,” replied Una turning in her seat so she could hug him.  “I can’t stay cross with you for long, Benedict.”

“Ah, now that’s much better,” said Benedict, rubbing her back.  “And I also think you protest far too much about Colin Saint James,” he whispered into her ear.  “Do you know what I think, Una?  I think you’re the mystery woman who sent him flowers after his heart attack.”

Benedict noticed that his words caused Una to blush deeply.

“What about me?” asked Martin, spreading both hands.  “Not only could I use a hug…but there’s another part of me that could use some attention.”

“You’re disgusting, Martin!  Leave poor Una alone!” said Jonathan.

“Please – she loves it!” laughed Martin, getting up to massage Una’s shoulders.  “Don’t you, my gorgeous sex-kitten?  Oh, what you do to me!”

“Oh, stop it you!” Una mock scolded him, smacking his hand lightly.  “Get your bloody mind out of the gutter and save it for when you get home, where you’ve got a lovely bird who appreciates your cheeky advances.”

“Amanda loves my cheek – both of them actually,” snickered Martin.  “And I’m not talking about the ones on my face.”

“And please don’t feel the need to display them,” said Rupert.  “Unless Una wants to see them of course…or Vinette might fancy...”

“Bloody hell!  I forgot how bad the lot of you are whenever you get together!” cackled Vinette.  “Una, you are a saint to tolerate the likes of these chaps.”

“We’re all sorry, Una,” said Benedict sincerely.  “We just love teasing you.”

“You know we don’t mean any harm,” added Martin, leaning down to kiss Una soundly on the cheek.  “We all adore you.”

“We love you to pieces,” chimed in Rupert.   “Not only are you a good sport; but you can hold your own with us as well.”

“Notice that I had no part in this, Una,” laughed Jonathan.  “I’ve learnt a long time ago to mind my manners in front of the ladies, and I didn’t even go to Harrow.”

“Ouch!  That barb stung!” chortled Benedict. “You’re such a wanker, Aries.”

“Please allow me to redeem myself,” said Martin.  “What can I do for you, Una?”

“You can make it up to me by fetching me a small slice of that chocolate cake with a bit of vanilla ice cream,” Una said to Martin, handing him her empty beaker.  “And I’ll have a refill of my coffee with milk and one sugar.”

“I wouldn’t mind a slab of that cake myself whilst you’re going,” called out Rupert.  “Hold the ice cream on mine.”

“Can I get another coffee while you’re at it?” joined in Jonathan.

“Piss off – the lot of you!” fumed Martin. 

“Does that mean you won’t get us anything then?” giggled Vinette.  “I really have a sudden yen for one of those chocolate fairy cakes with the pink icing.”

Martin stopped and raised an eyebrow at her.  “What do I look like – a motherfucking waiter?”

“No.  You just look like a sorry bloke who’s returning to the food line to get his mates some pudding,” Vinette said playfully.

“You just described a waiter, Lovey,” retorted Martin. “ I’ll expect a gratuity if you want that fairy cake.” 

“Gratuities for service are included in our friendship,” grinned Rupert.

“You’re not my friend, Mate!” groused Martin.  “No fucking way in hell.”

“Benedict would get it for me!” laughed Vinette.

Benedict looked up at her.  “Sure.  Of course, what can I get you, Darling?”

“I was just having a go at Martin,” explained Vinette.  “I’m fine, Ben.  Really.”

“Does this mean you won’t get me a fairy cake either?” teased Jonathan.

“Fuck off you wankers! You can all get off your sorry arses and get it yourselves!  I’m doing this because I love our Una to bits!”

Whilst the others were preoccupied with teasing Martin, Benedict leaned in close to Una. 

“You realize that I was being completely sincere about Colin yes?” he asked her in a low voice.  “I wasn’t having a go at you – I really think he fancies you - and not in the way he worships Mum.  It’s different, and I think you two keep in touch.”

“I’m flattered to bits, Ben; but I’m not interested in getting married again.  I’ve been married and divorced twice, and that was enough for me.”

“He told Donna and I that he plans on coming over before the wedding to visit his brother, Cecil, for several weeks; so why not see what happens then?  I just ask you to consider the possibility of …befriending him.  He really is a lovely old boy with lots to offer.”

Una sighed with resignation.  “I don’t need to befriend Colin because I already have befriended him, and I admit to being the one who sent the flowers.  Stop smiling like that, Benedict!  It’s not what you think! Before you jump to any conclusions, I want to assure you that we’re just friends.”

Benedict raised his eyebrows at her and smirked.  “Do you really think I believe that this is one-sided?  He is a lovely man and would make a fine…companion for  you.”

“Yes, Colin is very good company.  He’s still sharp as could be, and we’ve loads in common. We’ve kept in touch by email and had a couple of Skype calls.”

“Don’t let your failed relationships get in the way of happiness, Una,” said Benedict taking her hand in his and kissing it.  “You’re still an attractive and vital woman with a lot to offer.”

“Thank you, Ben. We’ll see when the time comes; but I’m not getting my hopes up.  I’m perfectly content the way I am.  How about we change the subject?”

“May I ask why you keep dribbling dabs of dressing on your bloody salad?  It’s making me crackers watching you!” Vinette said to Benedict.

Benedict looked down at his salad and blushed.  “Oh, that?!  I have to watch what I eat or I won’t be able to squeeze into my costumes; so I’m trying to cut back on my caloric intake during filming.  Donna suggested that I just dip my fork tines into the bloody dressing; but I still crave a bit more flavour.”

“Who is this Donna you keep mentioning, Ben?” inquired Phil as he ate some of his sliced roast beef and cheddar sandwich.  “The last time we filmed this you were single and dating a variety of birds.  Now, I hear mention made to an engagement do.  It sounds to me as if you’ve had some luck yes?”

Benedict grinned from ear-to-ear and nodded.  “I should have shared my good news with you earlier, but we just never got around to it. I’ve had the most extraordinary luck, Phil.  I met the most fantastic woman – Donna.  She’s the love of my life and my soul mate, and we’re to be married on December fourth.”

“Bloody hell!  Look at you remembering the date already,” laughed Rupert.  “That’s a positive sign you’re going to be the type who never forgets his anniversary.”

“I’m impressed, Ben,” said Vinette.  “My mum and dad have been married almost forty years, and Dad always forgets their anniversary date.”

“Donna is an absolute darling,” interjected Una.  “She and Ben are just perfect together. I’ve never seen a couple so besotted with each other.”

“Well done and congratulations!” exclaimed Phil.  “I’m very happy for you, Ben.  Is your fiancée in the business?”

“No, Donna has nothing to do with the entertainment industry,” replied Benedict.

“Might I ask what it is she does then?”

“You might say she eats for a living,” Benedict replied with a smirk.

Phil fixed Benedict with a puzzled look.  “I’m not following you.”

“She’s a restaurant critic,” clarified Una.  “A very popular one, I might add.”

“I didn’t know that, Ben,” chimed in Vinette.  “Is Donna one of those food bloggers?”

“All this time I thought Donna was a caterer,” added Jonathan.

“Donna just does the catering part time with her sister,” explained Benedict.  “Her primary job is writing a weekly column for the London Tribune.”

“Oh, she’s a professional writer then,” said Vinette, clearly impressed.  “Nice gig writing for the Tribune.”

“Wait! I think I just sorted it out.  You’re going to marry Donna Saint James – the bird who writes the Tasty Travels column on Sundays,” declared Phil.

Benedict’s eyes lit up, and he smiled proudly. “Yes, that’s my girl.  Donna’s the Tribune’s most popular food critic.”   

_And now he’s going to say something to the affect that she’s the snarky critic. They all do once they find out who she is._

“My wife and I read her column every Sunday!” said Phil.  “She did quite a number last Sunday on that posh place with all the - fancy schmanzy smears – as she called it – on the plates. Eve and I look forward to her snarky reviews.” 

“As do I,” added Vinette.  “The snarkier, the better!”

“I had no idea that was your Donna,” said Jonathan.

“Donna prefers to keep a low profile,” said Benedict.

“I can understand that,” laughed Jonathan.  “She murdered Jamie Oliver’s place twice!”

Una laughed.  “After all that, I still find it amazing that he agreed to cater your wedding, Ben.”

“Jamie’s a mate of mine,” said Benedict.  “He took it well when Donna gave him her reasons for giving Comfort such a bad review. As a matter of fact, he actually agreed with most of what she wrote.”

“I suppose that’s why there’s no photo of her on her column,” mused Phil. “She prefers that the chefs don’t know what she looks like yes?”

“Correct.  That was Donna’s choice, and she’s fighting with her editor to keep it that way.  She feels by not having her face out there, the restaurant staffs won’t recognize her and alert the chefs that there’s a critic in the house.  That way she is served the same food as anyone else dining in the restaurant and it enables her to give an impartial review.”

“That makes perfect sense,” agreed Phil.  “Do you have a photo handy?”

Benedict pulled his mobile from his trousers pocket and showed Phil the screensaver of him and Donna.  “This is my Donna.  You’ll meet her next week when we do the shoot on Gower Street.  She and her sister’s company are now doing the catering for _Sherlock_ whenever we’re shooting in London.”

“And it’s been a rousing success after that rubbish catering they were giving us,” added Rupert. 

“Ah, what a joy it will be to have proper catering again!” said Una.

“She’s lovely,” said Phil, studying the photo.  “I look forward to meeting her. You’re a lucky man, Ben.”

“Oh, I am.  I feel so blessed.  It’s truly an embarrassment of riches.”

Martin returned with a tray and placed a large plate containing a huge slice of rich-looking chocolate cake in front of Una along with a beaker of hot coffee.  The cake was covered in chocolate icing and coated in chocolate chips.  There was also another plate containing several scoops of vanilla bean ice cream.

“As you can see, I don’t skimp on my apologies,” said Martin. “Enjoy, Una, Love.”

“Oh my!” exclaimed Una.  “You are all going to have to help me eat this!”

“Not a hardship,” said Martin.  “I brought extra forks just in case.”

“I gallantly volunteer my services to help you with that,” said Jonathan, smacking his lips.

“As do I!” said Rupert.  “I excel at chocolate cake disposal!”  

“You know what a tart I am for sweets,” added Benedict, eyeing the cake.  “But I’d best stick with my salad.  Otherwise, I’ll be bursting at these bloody seams.”

_Maybe just a taste won’t hurt.  I’ve only got another week to film, but I can barely breathe in this shirt as is. Whose brilliant idea was it for Sherlock to have such form-fitting clothes?_

Martin took his seat beside Benedict and tapped him on the shoulder.

“So, what did I miss?  What are we talking about?”

“Donna,” replied Benedict.  “I hadn’t realized that I hadn’t told Phil that I had gotten engaged since we last worked together.”

“Ben was just telling us how lucky and blessed he feels to have found the right person,” added Rupert.

Martin looked at Benedict.  “Did you tell them about your wanker future father-in-law as well?”  Then he looked at the group across the table. “Has Ben told you who he is?”

“Christ,” breathed in Benedict.  “I _was_ enjoying my salad.  They don’t need…”

“What’s wrong with her father?” inquired Vinette, blotting her lipstick with a paper serviette. 

“Where shall I begin?” muttered Benedict.  “We don’t have all day.”

Martin glanced at his costume watch.  “We’ve still got plenty of time left.”

_Donna would not be amused to find out that I dissed her father on set to my co-workers…even though the bastard’s reputation has no doubt preceded him on this side of the Pond as well. Just turn on the mouth filter, Benedict, and politely decline to kiss and tell._

“Oh, I don’t know if it’s the proper thing to be saying uncomplimentary…” began Benedict.

_FUCK ME!  Uncomplimentary implies that whatever I would say about the tit would be negative.  Now, I almost have to elaborate further or they’ll be wondering._

“Come on - out with it then!  Now that you’ve gotten our curiosity up,” prodded Rupert. 

“We all have or have had in-laws or prospective in-laws at this table,” Said Jonathan.  “I’m not especially enamoured with my wife’s father; so whatever you have to say is safe with us.”

“It’s like Las Vegas at this table – whatever is said here, stays here,” Phil assured Benedict.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” exclaimed Martin. “Donna’s dad is none other than motherfucking Neil Saint James! The most despised and feared critic next to that cocksucker supreme, Rodney Renfield.”

“Donna’s dad and Renfield are also best mates,” Benedict explained to the rest of the table.  “I had no idea until after we’d been dating for a while that Neil was her father.”

Vinette pulled a pained expression. “I know exactly who you’re talking about. Please accept my condolences.”

“Leave it to poor Benedict to finally find the woman of his dreams only to get stuck with the likes of him for a father in-law!” said Rupert. “You have my sympathy, Mate.”

“Bloody Hell! You mean Neil Saint James, the New York Times’ Chief Critic?” asked Phil. 

Benedict nodded. “That’s him, but lucky for us actors, he’s been promoted to the Arts and Leisure Editor and only does reviews of high profile plays and films.”

“Oh, he _is_ a right fucker.  Martin’s right.  He’s made mincemeat of me when I was doing a play in New York a few years ago,” declared Phil with obvious disgust.  “I remember ripping that review to shreds when I read it – that’s how angry I was.”

“Neil Saint James has had a go at just about all of us – myself included,” said Una diplomatically.  “But I will say for the record that when I met him at Benedict and Donna’s engagement do; he really was quite a lovely man.”

“That’s because the man happens to be a good actor,” Benedict snorted and tea came out of his nose.  “Bless you, Una, Darling.  You are being too, too kind.  Way kinder than the bastard deserves.”

“I say she’s lying through her teeth,” added Martin.  “Stop being so bloody nice, Una.  You know the man’s a first class cocksucker.”

“I wasn’t finished, boys,” scolded Una, raising a delicate hand.  “I was going to add that you never would have taken him for the son of a bitch who writes those horrible reviews.  Neil Saint James behaved himself like a proper gentleman.  He’s been nothing but gracious and charming whenever I’ve been in his company.  However, when the man takes pen in hand, he’s every bit as despicable as Rodney Renfield – if not worse!”

“It’s a jolly good thing that he lives in New York then,” said Phil, shaking his head.  “At least you won’t have to deal with him on a daily basis – unless you move to New York.”

“That’ll never happen,” snorted Benedict. “I love living in London.”

“So how did you and Donna meet?” inquired Vinette.  “I love hearing stories about how couples meet.”

“Oh, it is the cutest story!” exclaimed Una.  “Tell them, Benedict!  I laugh so much whenever I think about it!”

_Leave it to Una to think that night was cute, bless her.  What was so cute about it? Donna and I wound up being seated together at a communal table at Barbecoa and things got off to a rocky start.  I was in a mood, and Donna was late for her meeting with Jamie. She almost fell into my lap, photographed my socks, drank up all my water, accused me of eating food meant for her, and we spent the first half of the meal trading barbs and insults…oh yeah, it was so cute. Well, when the food went flying off the plate onto Jamie’s shoes that was kind of funny.  Luckily we got on after that and here we are planning a life together.  
_

“Oh, I don’t know if I’d call it cute, Una; but grant it, it was a rather unusual way to meet.”

“Oh, was it ever!  Thank God everything got sorted out in the end though and here you are – happy as could be and finally getting married!” _  
_

_True that.  I guess there are parts of our dinner that were rather funny. I’ll just tell them a shortened version and omit the parts where I came off as a completely obnoxious git…like when I tried to take the bread board away from Donna and kept moving the water carafe out of her reach.  Those were not some of my finer moments. Mum and Dad would have been appalled had they been there; but surely Donna’s told them the whole story by now. I just gave them the highlights that painted me in the more flattering light. Haha!_

“Alright then,” began Benedict. “Well, I was …”

Mark Gatiss suddenly entered the canteen, his eyes darting around the room until they landed on the cast’s table.  He was carrying a script and approached their table in a seemingly rush.  He crouched down in between Benedict and Martin so he could speak with Benedict.   

“Excuse the interruption, Ben,” Mark said, placing the script on the table beside Benedict’s plate.  “This is a rewrite from Steven that we need you to learn by the time we resume shooting in…”  Mark consulted his watch and sighed.  “Say in the next half hour.  We’re desperately trying to maintain some sort of schedule, but if you require more time – of course, we’ll give it to you.”

 _That translates into ‘please make sure you’ve learnt your bloody lines by the time lunch break is over or you’ll be costing us overtime’_ , thought Benedict. _There’s_ n _othing like a little pressure to get the adrenaline flowing._

Benedict opened the script to the section that was book marked and glanced at the yellow highlighted areas.  “These are the changes, yes?”

“Yes.  I’m sorry to have to do this to you, Ben; but Steven feels the dialog flows better - and I have to agree with him.”

“No, there’s no need to apologize, Mark.  I’ll get right to it.”

“Thanks, Ben.  Wait until you read it – the changes Steven made are brilliant - much sharper than the original lines.”  With that Mark got up and left the canteen.

Benedict addressed Vinette.  “So sorry, Vinette; but you heard the boss.  I’ve got lines to learn.”

“That’s alright.  You can tell us the story another time.”

_I wonder if Una would mind telling them the story as she obviously knows it from Mum._

Benedict looked at Una.  “Una, you know the story; would you be a love and tell them how Donna and I got together?”

“Of course, I’d love to,” replied Una Stubbs.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Well, the roller coaster has just reached the summit after how many years of writing this saga? I personally cannot believe that I finally reached the point where everything is about to explode for Benedict. I sincerely hope that all of you that are left reading have enjoyed the ride so far. 
> 
> 2\. The story about Benedict and Martin both auditioning for roles in The Hobbit films comes from various articles and interviews. From what I read, Benedict didn't find out he got the role until late 2011.
> 
> 3\. The first season episodes of Sherlock were filmed in reverse, ending with "A Study in Pink". 
> 
> 4\. I'm not certain if all the London outdoor location scenes are filmed during the same week; but in this universe they are. It would make financial sense to bring the crew from Cardiff down just once. 
> 
> 5\. I know very little about Planning Committees in the UK - this is mostly made up; however, the part about Benedict's neighbors complaining when he submitted plans about renovating his flat is true as he was famous by then; and it made the papers. In this universe, it's happening a little differently. 
> 
> 6\. In this universe, the Upper Boat Studios is a huge building with the sound stages within. I wrote the chapters with the dressing rooms and sound stage for Sherlock all in the same general area. The studio canteen is in a different part of the building. From doing some research on studio canteen, I came up with the Blue Box Canteen, which was named for Dr. Who's Tardis. A photo I found online shows a small separate building - like a trailer. It wasn't clear as to whether this was just for the cast and crew of Dr. Who or not. Anyway, in this universe, the Blue Box Canteen is in the main building and a lot larger and nicer-looking than in reality. 
> 
> 7\. Actor, Phil Davis, played the murderous cabby in both the pilot and actual episode of "A Study in Pink." Vinette Robinson was not in the pilot.
> 
> 8\. I imagine some days the cast might eat together and on others they might scatter and go their own ways. In this chapter they were all hanging out together.
> 
> 9\. I've read several interviews that mention the bawdy/off-color teasing on the Sherlock set among the cast members. Apparently, the cast loved to tease Una; and Martin apparently loved to try and shock her with his risque jokes/stories/comments. However, Una said she loved them like sons and Rupert Graves commented that Una took it all in stride and believed in dishing it back to them. 
> 
> 10\. There was an anecdote about Benedict showing the cast one of Una's old Rowntree Dairy Box commercials, and she burst out crying. He had said his joke had backfired and he never meant to actually upset her. I made mention of it in this chapter.
> 
> 11\. I decided at the last minute that Colin Saint James would become interested in Una Stubbs, who is the mystery woman.


	177. Chapter 177

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanda and Timothy make a terrifying discovery during a visit to their safe deposit box. Benedict has an epiphany as the roller coaster he’s been unwittingly riding finally hits the summit.
> 
> Please note that an appearance by Martin Freeman means there will be more swearing than usual in this chapter. If easily offended, feel free to skip (but this is one chapter I really wouldn’t recommend skipping).
> 
> Note: I’ll be using *************** for things happening at the same time.

 

 

Timothy Carlton was sat beside his wife in a private room in their HSBC bank branch on Kensington High Street on Friday morning. They had arrived at the bank at half ten and had been reviewing the contents of their safe deposit box.  Timothy noted that they had been in the room for almost an hour whilst Wanda painstakingly went through each envelope and updated the list she had brought along with her.  The past twenty minutes had been spent opening the various boxes that she stored her jewelry in. 

“Oh, here it is!  I thought I had lost it!” exclaimed Wanda triumphantly, holding a hand to her neck.  She lifted a delicate pearl and diamond bracelet out of its black velvet box and held it up to the light.  “It’s still so very lovely yes?  You gave it to me on our first wedding anniversary.” _  
_

“Yes, I remember picking it out at the jewelers. It’s still every bit as lovely as you are, Pet.” 

“I was thinking…” 

Timothy regarded his wife with a raised eyebrow. _There’s always trouble when they think._

“…of lending it to Donna to wear on her wedding day.” 

_And here is a fine and splendid example of it. Has my wife lost her bloody mind? Donna is the last person in the world who I would loan a fragile piece of jewelry to.  
_

“I thought you said you liked my bracelet,” said Timothy with a mock pout. _  
_

“I do!  Of course I do!  I adore it!  I was just thinking that by lending it to Donna that it would fulfill the traditions of the bride wearing something old and borrowed."

"Why can't you just give her the sixpence for her bloody shoe?"

"Because I want to lend her something of mine that is special and dear to me is all - something with some meaning behind it.  I know her friend, Giada, is lending Donna this glamourous, fur-trimmed, white velvet cape that once belonged to her famous Grandmother…” 

“Well, wouldn’t that technically cover both traditions then?” 

“Yes, but I wanted to be involved.  What do you think, Tim?” 

_She would ask me, bless her.  I think I want to get out of here is what I think and not be a party to this discussion, as it won’t end well if I have my say._

“I think I’m going to have a Knickerbocker Glory when we get to The Fountain.  It’s been an age since I’ve had one.” 

Wanda lightly smacked his arm.  “Stop that you!  I’m being serious.” 

“So am I.  No one makes as good a Knickerbocker Glory sundae as Fortnum’s ice cream parlour.  I can just taste that Italian meringue.  As a matter of fact, I might just skip lunch and go straight for the sundae.” 

“Timothy Cumberbatch, I’m getting the distinct impression that you’re not keen on my offering Donna my bracelet to wear on her wedding day.” 

“Splendid!  There’s no need for me to speak as you’ve been receiving my physic vibes loud and clear, Commander.” 

Wanda stared at him.  “I really would like your opinion.” 

_So you can shoot it down; but here goes._   “I think it’s a right lousy idea.” 

Wanda looked surprised. “Why?” 

Timothy rolled his eyes at his wife.  “Let me make sure I completely understand this: You want to lend a delicate pearl and diamond bracelet to Donna – the girl who’s accidentally broken, chipped, cracked and inadvertently destroyed more things than I can count in the short time that we’ve known her?” 

“Hells bells, Tim!  How reckless and careless you make her sound! You’re grossly exaggerating!” 

Timothy pursed his lips and cocked an eyebrow at her. “Am I now?” 

“Yes!  Now, stop being so infuriatingly cheeky!” 

“I’m going to give you another chance to think this through before answering me.” 

Wanda opened a small midnight blue velvet pouch and withdrew a pair of gold hoop earrings.  She tucked her hair behind her ears and huffed at him as she put them on. 

“You really do exaggerate, Tim.  So Donna’s had a few little…mishaps - so, what of it?” 

“May I remind you of the time she accidentally banged her hand against the marble sink in The Savoy’s powder room and chipped one of the diamonds in her engagement ring?  Or the time she accidentally dented that gold bangle bracelet her gran left her?  There was the gold earring that got dropped down Ben’s kitchen sink by accident – luckily Ben was able to do a bit of plumbing and found it in the trap.  How about the night she had invited us over for dinner?  She was rushing about the kitchen like a loon for no reason and snagged a hole in that lovely jumper her gran had knit for her on a drawer she had carelessly left open.  It was lucky for her that you’re experienced with a knitting needle and were able to repair it.  Let us not forget the time she took down the tomato display at the farmers market with that handbag of hers.  Oh yes! And then there was the time she accidentally dropped one of your mother’s heirloom china teacups…” 

Wanda held up a hand to silence him.  “I had forgotten about my mother’s cup,” she said with disgust. "Though to be fair, Donna did try and glue it back together."

“Shall I continue then?  I’ve got loads of examples.” 

“No.” 

“Then I rest my case, Commander.” 

Wanda lovingly ran her fingertips over the pearls.  “I really did want Donna to wear this on her wedding day.” 

_I can see that I’ve just wasted perfectly good breath._

“It’s your bracelet, Wanda; so it’s up to you to lend it to her or not.” 

“What do you think?” 

“Do you _really_ have to ask me after all I just said?” 

“You’re obviously dead set against it.” 

“That was a brilliant deduction, Pet. Just think:  this bracelet contains both pearls and diamonds, which translates into loads of endless possibilities for her to do damage to it - accidentally, of course.  Why don’t we simply buy Donna a piece of jewelry to wear from us to satisfy the something new bit?” 

“Benedict’s already taken care of that.  He asked Toni’s brother to make up earrings for Donna ‘s wedding gift.” 

Timothy indicated the box containing the bracelet with his chin. “Isn’t there something else in there that’s a bit sturdier that you could lend her?” 

“I really have my heart set on lending Donna this bracelet.  It’s so very lovely and has sentimental meaning.” 

_Which is exactly why you shouldn’t lend it to her! I can see that my wife already has her mind made up, bless her.  Nothing I can say will dissuade her. The Wanda Express has left the station.  
_

“As I just said:  it’s your bracelet to do with as you please, Wanda.” 

“I’ll just take it home and have a think on it in the meantime then.  It’s not like they’re getting married next week.”  Wanda closed the box and put it inside her handbag. 

“Are you quite done now?  Is everything sorted out to your satisfaction, Commander?” 

Wanda bit her lower lip and began to put back her jewelry boxes back into the large metal box.  “Yes, I think so.” 

“Splendid.  Shall I book us a table at The Parlour for two at one?” 

“I wish you luck getting a booking at that hour.  One is right in the middle of the lunch rush.” 

“I have every confidence that there will be room.  Most people don’t bother with bookings.  They just show up and hope for the best.” Timothy stretched and got to his feet.  “What do you fancy having, Love?” 

“I’m in the mood for their smoked salmon with soda bread, followed by a Dusty Road sundae.” 

As Wanda was just about to close the lid of the box, her ice blue eyes landed on something that made her hand freeze.  She stared in disbelief into the metal box as a slight feeling of panic began to well up inside her. 

_Be calm, Wanda. There’s no need to panic just yet.  He may have just forgotten to give it to Ben._

“Bloody hell, Tim!  How could you forget?” 

Timothy peered over her shoulder.  “What’s wrong?  What did I forget?” 

Wanda quickly shoved a jewelry box aside and withdrew a CD that had been lodged in between some envelopes in the bottom of the box.  It was marked “For Benedict” in her neat handwriting.  She waved it at Timothy with annoyance. 

“This!  Why is _this_ still in here?” 

“Might you stop waving the bloody thing at me long enough; so I can read what it is you’re waving at me with such stunning agitation?” 

Wanda smacked the CD down on the table and glared at her husband.  “This!  Why is this still in the box?” 

“It’s technically outside the box now.” 

“You can dispense with the snark, Tim.” 

Timothy frowned as he studied the CD.  He looked up at her, clearly confused.  “I’m afraid I’m clueless, Wanda. Whatever are you squawking about?” 

“This CD – you were supposed to give it to Benedict to hold in case of an emergency.” 

“I did give him the CD right before I showed him my mother’s ring.” 

“How in the fuck do you explain this then?” 

“Wanda.  You asked me to make sure I gave Ben the motherfucking CD with his name on it, and I did!” snapped Timothy.  “I don’t know what in the hell you’re prattling on about, Woman!” 

Wanda felt the panic beginning to well up inside her again as she tried her best not to shriek at her husband. 

“There were two CD’s in here:  one was labeled ‘For Benedict’, which had our final instructions on it and there was another one labeled ‘Ben’, which contains all the information regarding my Craigslist ad and the subsequent interviews with the birds we selected.”  

Timothy recalled the moment when he had handed the CD over to Benedict in that very room.  

He had shuffled through six CD’s and pulled out one that was marked “Ben” in Wanda’s handwriting. Unfortunately, he had not seen that there was one other CD marked “For Benedict” that had gotten mixed in with the envelopes. 

A sick feeling washed over him as the conversation between himself and Benedict replayed in his mind:

 

**“We just renewed our homeowners insurance and car insurance, so those were the current policies I just put in here. And lest I forget, your mother has made me promise to give you this CD, which she has painstakingly created.”**

**“What’s on it?”**

**“She assures me it contains all the information you may need in the event of an emergency – if anything should happen to one or both of us.”**

**“Christ! How utterly morbid,  Dad!”**

**“Morbid? Undoubtedly, however, I agree with your mother that it’s also necessary. Make sure to keep it in a safe place.”**

**“No worries.  I'll make sure to lock it in my desk drawer as soon as I get home."**

 

Wanda removed the short stack of CD’s and shuffled through them.  “It’s not here, Tim!” she exclaimed in a near-hysterical voice.  “We need to find out what happened to it!!!  Did you manage to somehow drop it on the floor before you vacated the room?” 

“No.  I’m one hundred percent certain of that.” 

“How can you be so sure?  If not, then it has to be here somewhere!” Wanda began to pull things from the box wildly.  Timothy reached out to cover her hand with his. 

“You can stop searching, Commander; because I can tell you exactly where the CD is,” said Timothy with a feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. 

“Where?” 

Timothy swallowed hard over the lump in his throat.  “It’s in enemy territory. It’s in a locked drawer in Benedict’s desk in Hampstead.” 

Wanda pushed back her chair and regarded her husband with astonishment.  “You berk!  You absolute berk! How in the hell did you manage to do that?”  She demanded, ice blue eyes flashing in anger. 

“It was an honest mistake, Wanda.  I only saw the one CD and gave it to him.” 

“Do you realize that you gave him grounds for divorce!” 

“Stop spouting nonsense!" sputtered Timothy. "He’s not even married yet.” 

“If Ben looks at that disc, he’ll call off the wedding for certain!” wailed Wanda.  “Oh, my God!  This is my worst nightmare come true!  We were so careful, Tim!  How could you?” 

“How could I?  Very easily that.  I saw the CD with his name on it and gave it to him.  Now, we need not panic; and you need to stop being so shouty.  I’m surprised no one’s come to inquire as to what’s going on in here.” 

“How can you not panic?” Wanda demanded in a lower voice.  “How can you NOT?” 

“Because if you think about it;  had our son reviewed the contents of the CD, all hell would have surely broken loose by now yes?” 

Wanda opened and closed her mouth as she considered his words. “You’re right, of course.  Had Ben seen what was on the disc, he would have marched straight over to our flat and given us hell and then gone to Donna’s to break the engagement.” 

“And none of this has happened.” 

“Yet.” 

“So the odds are tremendously in our favour that he hasn’t been bothered to look at it yet.” 

“True.  He most likely just shoved it in the drawer and forgot about it.” 

Timothy sat in silence whilst Wanda returned the boxes and envelopes to the metal box except for the CD marked ‘For Benedict’.  He watched as Wanda stashed it inside her handbag and zipped it shut.  

“Somehow, I’m not particularly comforted by this knowledge,” declared Wanda.  “Barrister Ben forgets nothing.” 

“Nor am I, Pet.  It’s as if we’re sitting on a ticking time bomb.” 

Wanda closed the lid of the box and got up from her chair.  “There’s only one thing we can do. We’ve got to get that CD back and replace it with this one before he sees what’s on it, Tim.” 

“It seems like the obvious move to me, Commander. However, exactly how do you expect to accomplish such a tricky maneuver?  We can’t just sashay over to his flat and demand that he relinquish it to us without a proper explanation.  You bloody well know how Barrister Ben is – his name is on the blasted discs. It’s only natural that he’ll want to know what’s on both of them.” 

“Who said anything about his having to be home when we make the switch? This has to be handled very delicately, Tim.” 

“What are you suggesting we do then? Arrange a covert operation of sorts?” 

“Exactly.” 

“I don’t like the sound of that, Wanda.” 

“Not to worry, it’ll be simple enough to carry out.” 

Timothy raised an inquisitive eyebrow at her.  “Go ahead.  What’s the plan, Commander?” 

“Well, we have a key to his flat and know the alarm code.  All we have to do is go over when Ben’s not home and nick it.  I’m pretty good when it comes to picking locks, so reclaiming and replacing it with the correct one should be easy peasy.  Ben’s coming home tonight from Cardiff; so we’ll have to work fast.” 

“We’re going to have to let Donna in on this as soon as possible,” said Timothy. 

“Fuck no, Tim!  She’ll be a nervous wreck – we also can’t take a chance that she’ll slip and say or do something that would arouse Benedict’s suspicions.  How many times has she almost told him about the Plan?” 

“Twice that I know of.” 

“That only illustrates why Donna’s better off left in the dark about this.  She’ll panic and blab to him about the whole affair!  We can’t tell her.” 

“Sorry to go against your orders, Commander; but as a loyal foot soldier; I feel it is my duty to tell you when you’re wrong – and you’re wrong about this.  I heartily disagree with your decision not to tell Donna.  She needs to be told immediately.” 

Wanda scoffed.  “Why are you so adamant that we tell her?” 

“One of our finest field agents has infiltrated deep into the heart of enemy territory; and you don’t think she needs to be alerted to a potential problem yes?” 

“Yes.” 

“I’d think long and carefully about that, Commander.  Donna loves and trusts us to do right by her.  There are high stakes at risk here. This is an explosive secret that could not only destroy our relationship with our son; but her relationship with him as well.” 

Wanda snorted.  “You’re being frightfully dramatic, Tim.” 

“Am I though?  We have good reason to suspect that Ben hasn’t looked at the CD yet.  However, for argument’s sake, suppose that he did. There is a long shot that he might have read the contents and is waiting for the right moment to spring it on us.” 

Wanda gave her husband a skeptical look and waved him away with a dismissive gesture.  “The odds are still in our favour that he hasn’t seen it.” 

“Hear me out, Commander.  If Ben did know and confronted Donna about it first without warning, she won’t have a clue as to how to handle the situation properly.  We’ve had plenty of experience with diffusing an irate Benedict and know how to talk him around better than she does.” 

“Ben's not three anymore, Tim.  He’s going to be thirty-four, and offering to read him _The Hobbit_ or taking him out for an ice cream isn’t going to cut it anymore.  I really think we can sort this out without involving Donna.” 

“There will be dire consequences for us all, should things go awry and he finds out. Just think:  we’ll be estranged from our only son; there will be no wedding, no daughter-in-law, no grandchildren to spoil and no extended family vacations to Disney…though the thought of not having Neil and Toni Saint James joined at the hip to us as in-laws for eternity does hold a certain appeal.” 

Wanda pushed her hair behind her ears as she paused to think about what Timothy had just said.   “You forgot to mention something else of paramount importance:  without male grandchildren there will be no one to carry on the Cumberbatch family name.” 

“There’s never a guarantee what the sex of a baby is going to be,” Timothy reminded her. “They could have all girls for all we know.  Anyway, shall I ring, Donna?  You know deep down that it’s the right thing to do. I’ll invite her to join us at Fortnum’s for a sundae.” 

“Why don’t we make an afternoon of it then and have a wander about the store afterwards?  For fucks sake, Timothy Cumberbatch – This needs to be sorted out now!  Ice cream is the last thing on my mind right now!” 

“Funny that.  You’re always up to…” 

Wanda slammed the lid of the safe deposit box shut, picked it up and headed for the door. “Please ring Donna whilst I get this box put away and let her know that she needs to meet us at Benedict’s flat as soon as she as she’s able.” 

“Shall I tell her of your plan to do damage control?” 

“Heavens no!  She’s probably at work; and I don’t want to risk upsetting her until we can explain it to her in person,” replied Wanda.   

“I’ll tell her something came up that we’d like to discuss with her then.” 

“That shouldn’t alarm her,” said Wanda.  

“Do you fancy taking the car or the tube up to Hampstead?” 

“Let’s take the car.  It’ll be faster than the tube this time of day.  Besides, we need to stop off at our flat first; so I can get our key to Ben’s flat and my lock pick.” 

 

**********************************************

  

As Benedict Cumberbatch studied his lines, he found that he was also listening to Una Stubbs with half an ear.  

_Perhaps I should remove myself and go to my dressing room where it’s quiet, so I can concentrate.  
_

“Well, it really is the cutest story,” Began Una. 

Benedict prepared to get up; but he was drawn to Una’s voice. 

_There aren’t all that many lines; and I really do want to hear Una’s version of that night at Barbecoa. Lord knows what Mum told her. I only tell people that I met Donna when we were seated at a communal table and a mutual attraction developed from there._

“At first, I didn’t think it was cute at all; but in retrospect and being things are all sorted out now…”  Una allowed her voice to trail off and smiled at Benedict, who looked up briefly and returned the smile. 

_I truly hope Una’s not going to give them any background before she launches into her account.  
_

“In case any of you didn’t know; Ben’s mother, Wanda Ventham, and I have known each other for longer than either of us care to remember.  Our flats are fairly close to each other.  Wanda lives in Kensington, and I used to before I moved to my flat in Mayfair. Wanda and I used to meet up at Hyde Park almost every day with our prams.  We’d sit on a bench and gossip the afternoon away whilst our babies slept.  Then as our boys got older, they began to play together.” 

_I remember those days. Then when her son was old enough to attend primary school, I recall having to stand around whilst they chattered on incessantly,_ thought Benedict.  _Her youngest got to sleep in the pram, and I got to listen to industry gossip._

“He was such a good and patient boy.” 

_Did I have a choice?  Had I made a fuss, I’d only have to sit in the fucking corner once we got home. Patience did pay off in those days – it earned me many an ice cream cone on the way home!_

“It was an honour to watch Ben grow up into the fine young man he is today.”  

Benedict felt a blush creeping into his cheeks.  “Oh, Una…please…” 

Una reached out and patted his arm. “Oh, but you are, Love!  Stop selling yourself short.” 

_Study your lines, Benedict.  Let her praise you if she wants.  Enjoy the moment, you tit!_

“Anyway, even though Ben seemed to have it all – good looks, intelligence, a fine sense of humour…” 

_For fucks sake!  Una’s going to give them the background of poor Ben’s quest for a bird first. Oy! Why do they always feel the need to make me sound so fucking pathetic?  I’m not damaged goods that were finally saved from a life of solitude!_

“Hahaha!” laughed Martin.  “It sounds like you’re ticking off qualities for a fucking personal ad, Una!” 

“We’ll get to that, Martin.” 

_Anderson, don’t talk out loud. You lower the I.Q. of the whole street. We can do much more than just read her e-mails. It’s a smartphone, it’s got GPS, which means if you lose it you can locate it online. She’s leading us directly to the man who killed her.  Okay this line isn't much different than the original.  
_

Suddenly, an alarm bell went off in Benedict’s mind.

_What was that about a personal ad?  Martin made a comment that Una sounded like one and she said ‘We’ll get to that, Martin.’  What in the fuck does that mean? Maybe I was hearing things?  No.  I definitely heard her say that.  I hope this trip down Memory Lane won’t be too long._

“Don’t poke fun, Martin,” Una scolded him. “Ben has a lot to offer a bird, and whilst he was lucky with his career, he wasn’t so lucky in love.” 

_Christ on a crutch!  I was with Olivia for over a fucking decade – that’s over ten years! Why do they always forget that little tidbit?  
_

“Christ,” muttered Benedict.  He looked up at Una whilst rubbing the back of his neck.  “Erm…Una, are you forgetting that I was in a happy relationship for over ten years with Olivia.” 

“Which you aren’t in now, Mate,” retorted Martin.  “So how happy could it have been?” 

_I often ask myself that._

Benedict shrugged and returned to his script.  _Anderson, don’t talk out loud. You lower the I.Q. of the whole street. This was always a brilliant line - I'm glad Steven added it back in._

“I was referring to the period in between your breakup with Olivia and meeting Donna,” clarified Una, before continuing.  “Ben was working so much that it was hard for him to meet nice birds.  Every time he’d take up with one, something would go wrong.” 

_That is so fucking true.  There was Beth, Anna, Clarice…the one named after the flower…Daisy?  No, I think it was more like Heather – fuck me – that’s Emmy’s friend, who she tried to set me up with.  Oh, yes!  It was Ivy, which is technically a plant I believe.  As for the others, I’ve long since forgotten their bloody names.  Each and every one had something I didn’t fancy about them – funny that.  It was either we didn’t share the same interests and goals or they were rubbish in bed. The only thing Anna and I had going was that the sex was unbelievably hot…until she said I was too fucking broody for her taste.  Christ, I was very shallow in those days.  Oh, you lie to yourself, Benedict. Be honest. You pushed some of them away with your broodiness.  You shoved Liv.  
_

“All Ben wanted was to meet a bird who wanted the same things as him, so he could settle down and have the family he had been dreaming about,” continued Una.  “It pained his mum to see time passing by and nothing happening for poor Ben.” 

_There it is:  Poor Ben.  I can just hear Mum discussing my situation with Una…_

“Wanda would say to me…” 

Benedict, in an imitation of Wanda, and Una said at the same time: 

“Poor Ben, he can’t find himself a suitable bird!” 

Una stopped and regarded Benedict.  She put her hand to her mouth and tried not to laugh.  “I’m so sorry, Ben!  The girls and I used to joke with your mother over our monthly lunches that this was her mantra as that was all she could talk about at times.” 

_How lovely that I was apparently the primary topic of conversation at Mum’s Ladies’ Lunches!  How nice to know that Dames Judi Dench and Diana Rigg were also privy to this as well!  No wonder Diana’s daughter made that comment to me the night I ran into her at the National.  I recall Rachel patting me on the shoulder before we parted ways and said not to worry that there was someone out there for everybody. Bloody hell!  I thought she was referring to herself!_

“It’s alright, Una. As you all just heard, Una and I have heard my mother’s mantra many times before,” quipped Benedict.  _As well as everyone else on this bloody planet!_

“Oh, that’s terrible!” exclaimed Vinette. 

Benedict smiled at her.  “It’s all fine, Vinette. I’m used to it. Mum only meant it in the most caring of ways – even if it did drive me to distraction on more than one occasion,” he chuckled.  “In time I came to realize that her intentions were good. Mum just wanted me to find the right girl and marry as much as I did.” 

“Well, I suppose it does show that your Mum cares deeply about your happiness,” mused Phil.  

“You’ve got a point there, Phil,” said Martin.  “A rather sharp point that seems to have gotten under Ben’s skin,” he quipped. 

“Don’t most mums do these types of things out of love for their children?” Rupert asked the table with a smile. “It’s never meddling or nagging – it’s all done in the name of love and concern for said children’s happiness, yes?” 

“True that,” agreed Jonathan.  “I think we’ve all been there.” 

“I’m guilty of being on both ends!” laughed Una. 

Everyone nodded and laughed in agreement. 

Benedict smiled encouragingly at Una. “As you were, Una, Darling.” 

“Are you _sure_ you want me to continue, Ben?” 

“Of course, but please skip over the poor, pitiful Ben can’t find a bird parts.” 

“Well, those parts _are_ integral to the story.” 

“Only if you think so,” sighed Benedict, turning a page of the script.  _We can do much more than just read her e-mails. It’s a smartphone, it’s got GPS…_

“It’s what motivated your dear mother in the first place, Love.” 

Benedict rolled his eyes and went back to his script as Una continued with the story.  _Mum and her motivation, bless her.  That motivation was the root cause of more rows than I can count. Now, where was I?  
_

_It’s a smartphone, it’s got GPS, which means if you lose it you can locate it online. She’s leading us directly to the man who killed her.  
_

_Wait a minute…motivation to do what in the first place?_

“Well, one morning I rang Wanda to see if she fancied some company for lunch; and she invited me around to her flat.  When I got there, I found her in quite a stroppy mood over Ben’s… situation.  Over lunch Wanda confessed that she had grown weary and jealous of hearing news of her friends’ grandchildren.” 

_No shit, Una!  Mum’s always been frightfully jealous of her friends’ grand kids – yours included.  
_

_Concentrate on your lines, Benedict!  Where was I? Oh, here’s another one:  Mrs. Hudson, isn’t it time for your evening soother? Haha!  That’s a stonker of a line, Steven.  Well done you to bring it back.  
_

“Wanda told me she not only felt sad for Ben; but for her husband, Tim, as well.  Ben is their only child, and she wanted for Tim to have a grandchild of his own to love and carry on the Cumberbatch name.  Wanda has two granddaughters from her first marriage; so she knows the delights of being a grandmother.  She desperately wanted this for Tim.  It seemed as if it were her life’s mission to see Ben settled down and happily married with children.” 

“I can’t dispute that. It was my life’s mission as well,” sighed Benedict.  “Sometimes I can’t fathom how broody I can still be.” 

“Well, you’re half way there,” smiled Phil.  “You’ll have the wife come December.” 

Benedict smiled and nodded.  “Yes, that’s half my dream come true.  Then hopefully, we can start trying for a baby after our first anniversary.” 

“You've got a dick, so there's nothing’s preventing you from trying now, Mate,” observed Martin.  “Unless…” 

_Is he intimating that Donna’s still a virgin?  I’m not going to answer him._

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck.  “Erm…Donna prefers to wait until we’ve been married for at least a year.  She… _we_ feel our marriage should have a proper foundation before trying for a baby.” 

Martin nodded as he tried to suppress a smirk.  “That’s fine.  You both have to agree on when the time is right.  You can't have one participating without the other.” 

_Oh, he thinks Donna’s running the show.  Well, I did say ‘she’.  My mouth filter isn’t working today._

“That makes perfect sense,” said Phil.  “There’s no reason to rush – you’re both still young.” 

“That’s right,” said Una.  “Don’t let your mother pressure you and Donna into anything before you’re both ready, Ben.” 

_But I am ready.  I’m ready now; but Donna’s been quite insistent about our waiting.  However, there is that part of me that still wants to do things in the proper order.  
_

Benedict smiled at Una.  “There is no way on earth that Mum’s going to put pressure on us to… procreate before we’re ready.” 

“Good,” said Una, patting his hand.  “I know just how persuasive your mother can be once she’s set her mind to something, bless her.” 

“Yes,” Benedict snickered.  “Mum can never have too many blessings, can she?” 

Everyone at the table laughed. 

“As you were then, Una,” encouraged Rupert.  “I’m dying to hear more.” 

Benedict returned his attention to his script. 

_Now, where was I?  Oh, yeah…_ _Anderson, don’t talk out loud. You lower the I.Q. of the whole street. We can do much more than just read her e-mails. It’s a smartphone, it’s got GPS, which means if you lose it you can locate it online. She’s leading us directly to the man who killed her._

“Anyway, after a lovely lunch, Wanda took me into her lounge to show me something she had been working on that morning and asked for my opinion.” 

_Anderson, don’t talk out loud. You lower the I.Q. of the whole street. We can do much…  
_

Benedict paused and listened.  

_This isn’t right.  I was going out to dinner to meet up with Adam and Alice, and they had to stand me up because my godson was sick.  What does Mum and Una’s lunch have to do with my having dinner and meeting Donna?_

“You can imagine how surprised I was when I saw that it was a personal advert for Craigslist that Wanda had composed and planned on posting on Ben’s behalf.” 

Benedict felt his stomach lurch as alarm bells began to ring in his mind that something was terribly wrong.  He automatically clenched his jaw. 

_What fresh hell is this?? What in the fuck did Una just say and where have I heard this before????  
_

_You know damn well what she said, Benedict.  She said that Mum was working on a personal ad for Craigslist for you. Mum never asked me if it were alright for her to place an advert for me, nor would I ever condone such a daft thing.  I must have misunderstood.  Go back to your line.  
_

_Mrs. Hudson, isn’t it time…  
_

_No. What Una just said can’t possibly be right. My mind must be playing tricks on me. Mum would never do such a barmy thing.  And where have I heard made mention of placing a Craigslist advert before?  There is something so familiar about that!  What though?  
_

Benedict’s eyes roamed over the line; but he was no longer hearing the words Steven Moffat had written inside his head.  He was hearing his own voice of reason.  _  
_

_You know deep down inside that your mother is bloody well capable of doing such a thing, Benedict._

_No.  I’m definitely not hearing the whole story.  This must be leading up to another poor, pitiful Ben story.  Then Una talks her around, and I meet Donna that very night at Barbecoa.  
_

_What I need to do is concentrate on this line. I can’t let Steven and Mark down._

Benedict forced himself to turn his attention back to the script.  

_Anderson, don’t talk out loud. You lower the I.Q. of the whole street. We can do much more than just read her e-mails…It’s a smart phone; it’s got GPS, which means if you lose it you can locate it online. She’s leading us directly to the man who killed her._

“I remember our conversation as if it were yesterday…” 

_Oh bloody hell! It’s fruitless to try and concentrate on this fucking line.  No.  Fuck the line. I need to concentrate on this story that Una is telling first._   _Because so far this tale has nothing to do with how I met Donna…unless there’s something I don’t know, which there seems to be.  
_

Benedict Cumberbatch sat stoically at the table, pencil in hand with his eyes seemingly glued to the script.  However, his ears were glued to Una Stubbs’ words.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. This is the start of the roller coaster careening out of control, lovely readers. Thank you for staying with me! 
> 
> 2\. The next several chapters will contain excerpts from prior chapters as I help my version of Benedict piece The Plan together. It's been a real challenge to try and unravel my own convoluted plot, and I had to go back and re-read many chapters. After doing that, I felt the reader may also appreciate some reminders as to what happened over the course of the story because it's been a long time! LOL! 
> 
> 3\. I kept Martin pretty tame in this chapter as I didn't see the need for excessive swearing. 
> 
> 4\. I didn't want to mess with the script of "A Study in Pink", so we'll pretend that there were some minor changes in this universe. 
> 
> 5\. I found the photo of young Wanda and Timothy and wanted to post it because I love the way they look in it.


	178. Chapter 178

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of The Reveal: Una continues telling the Sherlock cast the story of how Benedict and Donna met. Wanda, Timothy and Donna frantically search Benedict’s flat for the CD. 
> 
> Please note that an appearance by Martin Freeman means there will be more swearing than usual in this chapter. If easily offended, feel free to skip.
> 
> Note: I’ll be using *************** for things happening at the same time.

 

 

Timothy Carlton eased his car into the driveway of Benedict’s house to find Donna Saint James standing on the top step in the pouring rain.  She was apparently trying to unlock the front door whilst juggling an umbrella and her large handbag. 

“Seems as if Donna beat us here,” observed Timothy as he switched off the windshield wipers and ignition. 

“There’s no way she took the tube here from Central London this quickly.  She would have had to change trains,” said Wanda.  “She must have taken a cab straight away.”

“I’ll tend to the brolly and come around for you.” Timothy got out of the car, opened his oversized umbrella and walked around to help his wife from the passenger seat.  “Here, take my arm, Pet.  The pavement can be slippery, and we don’t want you taking a tumble and injuring your knee.” 

Donna had turned at the sound of the car door closing and spotted Wanda and Timothy beginning to make their way towards the stairs.  “Take your time!  I’ll leave the door open!” she called out to them. 

Wanda took her husband’s arm, and they slowly made their way through the wind-swept rain to the house.  Donna took the wet umbrella from Tim once they were inside the foyer and placed it in the umbrella stand that she had moved downstairs from Benedict’s flat’s foyer along with his coat tree.  There was also a new mat just inside the door to absorb the water from wet shoes.

“Come in and let me take your coats,” offered Donna, closing the door behind them.  “That wind nearly blew my umbrella out of my hand just now.”

“I can’t believe how fast the weather’s deteriorated since this morning. It’s brutal out there!” exclaimed Wanda, taking off her mac and handing it to Donna, who had already hung up her own up to dry.  “Thank you, Love.”

“I see you’ve already done some practical redecorating,” quipped Timothy, looking around the foyer, as he wiped his shoes on the carpeted mat. 

“Benedict and I decided that being the whole house is ours now, it made more sense to move the coat tree and umbrella stand down here rather than drag wet stuff up the stairs.  We had planned on greatly enlarging this foyer and installing a coat closet and a powder room.”

“Have you changed your mind then?” asked Wanda, sitting on the stairs in order to remove her wet shoes.  “These damn shoes are stuck like glue to these wet socks,” she muttered.

“Let’s just say the Planning Application Committee changed it for me.  I found a letter in this morning’s mail from them,” replied Donn with deep sadness in her voice.  “Our application has been rejected because some of our neighbors filed complaints!”

“How sad!” said Timothy. “What did Ben say?”

“He doesn’t know yet.  I was going to tell him as soon as he called.”

“So you haven’t heard from him today?” asked Wanda.

“Not yet.  I just had a text message from him this morning saying that he’d let me know as soon as filming wrapped, and he was on his way back to London,” replied Donna, taking Timothy’s mac from him.

Wanda and Timothy exchanged pleased glances. 

“Splendid!  This means he’s still in Cardiff; so we’ve got plenty of time to conduct a proper search of the premises,” Timothy whispered to Wanda once Donna’s back was turned.

“Sorry, but I didn’t catch that,” said Donna, turning to face them.  “Can you repeat it please?”

 _You weren’t supposed to catch that,_ thought Wanda.

 _No, I can’t repeat it,_ thought Timothy.

“What about your plans don’t the neighbors fancy?”  Asked Wanda.

“The rear addition and expansion of the loft and roof terrace.”

“Hells bells! That’s everything!” exclaimed Wanda, tugging at her shoes.  “I thought Benedict said he personally informed all the neighbors of your plans.”

Donna sighed and shrugged. “He told me that he spoke with the next door neighbors and ones directly across the street before we sent in the application and everyone was okay with it.”

“Sounds to me like it may have been others in the immediate area who protested,” observed Timothy.  “Anyone in the surrounding vicinity can have a say.  It could have been someone on the next street over.”

“I’m sure Ben will go around and sort it out with the others as soon as he gets back from Cardiff,” said Wanda soothingly.   “Tim, I could use some help with my shoes.  Aren’t yours wet as well?”

“My shoes are soaked through!” complained Timothy as he removed his damp shoes and helped Wanda off with hers.  “We’ll just bring these upstairs with us and set them to dry by the heat…unless you’ve turned it off with Ben being in Cardiff.”

“I turned up the heat when I came by earlier,” confirmed Donna.  “Benedict would never like coming home to a cold house.”

“It hasn’t been the best of weeks weather wise and otherwise ,” commented Timothy dryly.

“I agree!” said Donna.  “I keep asking myself what else can possibly go wrong?”

 _You’re about to find out,_ thought Timothy. 

 _The possibilities are endless,_ thought Wanda.  _We need to get cracking on this mission!  Hells bells, I’m starting to sound like Tim with his snarky spy jargon!_

“Forgive my cheek; but we need to get upstairs and do some damage control before we have a full blown crisis on our hands!” interrupted Wanda briskly, leading the way up the stairs.  “The sooner we get this sorted out, the better!”

_And my wife accused me of being dramatic earlier?_

Donna looked at Timothy in bewilderment, as she removed her water proof boots and set them next to the coat tree.  “What in the heck is going on?  What’s all this about damage control?”

“It means I’m not going to get to have my Knickerbocker Glory this afternoon amongst other things,” replied Timothy sadly.  He indicated that Donna should follow Wanda up the stairs.  “We’ll explain once we get upstairs.”

“Stop the bloody chatting! Come on you two, we’ve got work to do!  Quick as you can now!” called Wanda from the top of the stairs.

 

 

Once they had entered Benedict’s flat, Timothy set their soaked socks and shoes near the radiator as Wanda went directly to Benedict’s desk and tried the lower left drawer.

“Shit!  He really does keep it locked!” she cried in frustration. 

“Of course he does.  That’s where Benedict keeps all his important papers,” confirmed Donna.

“I suppose you wouldn’t know where he stores the key?” asked Wanda looking over her shoulder at Donna hopefully.

Donna nodded. “Oh, I do. He keeps it on his key ring.”

“Which I suppose is with him in Cardiff,” sighed Timothy.

“Of course it is.” Donna frowned at her future in-laws.  “Why are you two so concerned about that locked drawer? Can I get you a cup of tea or maybe something stronger? You both look very upset.”

“Although a good stiff drink sounds lovely, we’ll both pass on the alcohol for now. The Commander needs her wits about her in order to perform this very delicate operation,” replied Timothy.

“What delicate operation?”

“I’m going to have to resort to picking that fucking lock!” replied Wanda, plopping onto the desk chair.

“Why?” Donna asked with narrowed eyes.  “What is so important that you need to get into that drawer?  Can’t you wait for Benedict to come home?  He’ll be home tonight and can easily open it.”

“I think not,” said Wanda dismissively, as she opened her handbag. “I could go for a cuppa whilst I work on this lock.”

“Okay, I’ll make us some tea; and then one of you can tell me what’s going on,” said Donna.  “You two are being awfully mysterious.”

 _She wants to make us tea? Bloody hell!  Not without my supervision she’s not!_ Thought Wanda.

 _Donna still can’t make a proper cup of tea,_ thought Timothy.  _She’s always rushing it!_

“No tea!” exclaimed Wanda with a horrified expression.

“Heavens no!” chimed in Timothy, side-eyeing his wife.

Donna stared at her future in-laws.  _Oh, ho!  So it appears that neither of them approve of my tea-making skills either even though I’ve been thoroughly trained in the art of proper tea-making by their son.   How about that?_

“Calm down you two!  Okay, I promise I won’t make you any tea!” Donna laughed nervously.   “Perhaps something else – like coffee or hot chocolate?” _  
_

Wanda’s cheeks reddened as she realized how their outbursts must have sounded to Donna.  “Actually, I’d rather fancy some coffee,” she said, trying to cover her tracks.

“It’s just that Wanda and I have had plenty of tea already today – haven’t we, Pet?”

Wanda nodded her head vigourously.  “Yes.  Two pots with breakfast.”

 _These two think I fell off the turnip truck yesterday,_ thought Donna with amusement.  _I know for a fact that they usually drink coffee for breakfast.  So they won’t drink coffee when Benedict makes it; and they won’t drink tea with I make it._  

“I can make us some coffee,” suggested Donna.  “I bought over some of the Kona coffee Benedict likes so much.”

“Oh, I would adore a cup of that!” smiled Wanda.  “Thank you!”

Timothy smiled at Donna.  “Would you like me to make some of my special brew for you?”

“Oh, yes!” Donna replied eagerly.  “Benedict has a small teapot that’s just right for one person.”

 _I think I’ll pick the lock once we’ve had some tea and told her,_ thought Wanda.  _Tim and I have been acting too weird._

Timothy followed Donna into the galley kitchen, and Wanda took a seat at the breakfast bar.   She pulled the glass biscuit jar towards her and removed the lid.  “These raspberry thumbprints smell divine!  May I?”

“Of course,” said Donna, taking the coffee tin out of the cabinet.  “So, what’s going on?  I’m dying to find out!”

Timothy filled the induction kettle with cold water and pressed down the lever to activate the heating element.  “The Commander can brief you whilst I do beverage duty.”

“Mmmm…these biscuits are brilliant!”

Donna stared at Wanda, who was nibbling on her second cookie.  “What’s going on?  Tim mentioned that we need to do damage control.  What kind of damage?  What’s so important in that locked desk drawer that you need to pick the lock rather than wait for Benedict to get home to get at it?”

“Those are all fine and splendid questions,” began Wanda, taking a bite of biscuit.

“The Plan might be in jeopardy if we don’t take action,” replied Timothy as he carefully measured out the tea.

“I thought I was doing the briefing,” snapped Wanda.  “Besides the kettle’s boiled.  Don’t you have some tea to brew?”

“All I see you doing is eating biscuits, Commander!  There’s no call for being stroppy.”

“I don’t give a damn which of you does it!” cried Donna. “I need you both to please stop bickering and just tell me what in the hell happened!”

Wanda put down the biscuit and sighed dramatically.  “I’ll keep the explanation simple: There was a major cock up the day Tim took Ben to our safe deposit box to give him Pauline’s ring.”

Timothy poured hot water into the tea pot to heat it.  “I want you to understand that it wasn’t a deliberate cock up, Donna.  Cock up is an unfortunate choice of wording.  It was an honest mistake.”

“Trust me, Donna.  This mistake falls under the category of a major cock up,” insisted Wanda vehemently. 

Donna looked from Wanda to Timothy.  “Please just tell me what happened exactly – you’re scaring the crap out of me!”

“It’s your mission, Commander,” said Timothy with a smirk.  He returned to the counter, dumped the hot water from the tea pot into the sink, added the tea basket to the pot and poured fresh hot water over it.  He set the timer and leaned back against the counter with his arms crossed; as he listened to his wife tell the story to Donna.

“We keep a few CD’s in our box with various things on them.  The two that caused the cock…mistake… had to do with Ben,” began Wanda.  “One was marked ‘For Benedict’ and contains our final instructions in the event of an emergency.  The other was marked ‘Ben’ and contained damning information pertinent to The Plan.”

Donna’s eyes narrowed and her heart began to pound inside her chest.  “What exactly do you mean by information pertinent to The Plan, Wanda?”

Wanda’s gaze shifted to her husband, who nodded at her.  “Tell her, Wanda.  She needs to know everything that’s on that fucking disc.”

“The disc contains the advert I placed in Craigslist for a prospective daughter-in-law…”

“And I answered,” said Donna, barely in a whisper, as a sick feeling began to fill her stomach.

“…all the responses I received along with any associated correspondence that went back and forth between me and the candidates…”

“ _All_ of our emails?”

Wanda nodded.  “Every single one, I'm afraid - As well as all the resumes, photographs and notes that I took during the interviews.”

“You didn’t take any notes during my interview.”

“I wrote them afterwards from memory.  I didn't take them at The Orangery because we had a few mishaps that distracted me during our meeting such as icing my ankle and getting lemon juice in my eye. Not to mention the mishaps with the pastries and Tim’s…”

Donna held up a hand as her face reddened.  “It’s okay. I clearly remember what happened.  I was the catalyst after all.”

“However, I did make notes on our meeting once I got home.”

“Crap!  What else was on the disc?”

“All of our subsequent correspondence up until the time you ran into Adam Ackland at Parliament Hill Farmers Market.”

“Literally,” said Donna.  “He thought I was flirting with him.”

“Ah, the Parliament Hill Caper,” mused Timothy.  “That was one of my best undercover missions.”

“The pasta stall made quite the profit thanks to you that day,” snickered Wanda.  “I had…”

“May I ask why you chose the day I went the market to stop saving our correspondence, Wanda?” interrupted Donna.  "That's one thing I was always curious about."

“Well, I decided after you made that call to me, saying that even though you thought our Ben was lovely things didn’t click; and you were sweet on someone else.”

“Who turned out to be our Ben in the end,” smiled Timothy.

“We had given up all hope of you and Ben getting together by then; so I decided to save everything pertaining to the advert in preparation for running a new one.”

“Bloody fucking hell, Wanda! You were going to run that blasted advert again?” thundered Timothy in disbelief.  “You never said a word about having another go at matchmaking!  You told me you were keeping all that information just in case things didn’t work out between Ben and Donna.”

“Jesus!” hissed Donna.  “Benedict and I love each other very much.  It sounds to me like you don’t have much confidence that Benedict and I will be able to make our marriage work, Wanda.”

“That isn’t it at all…” began Wanda.

“Well, it sure as shit sounds that way!”

Wanda held up a hand to silence her.   “In spite of the best of intentions, things do happen, Donna.  I always assumed that my first marriage would also be my last, and here I am,” she gestured to Timothy. 

Donna said nothing. She looked at Timothy who shrugged.  “One doesn’t know what the future holds, Donna.  There are no guarantees in life.”

“After you rang me to say Ben wasn’t for you, I had intended to place the ad again as soon as I was done filming Asylum,” confirmed Wanda.  “But then there was no need as everything got sorted out during the course of Ben’s birthday weekend at the Blackberry Bramble Inn.  What a relief that was to find out that you and Ben had managed to get together on your own!”

Donna smiled.  “It was also a relief to find out that Ben Ventham and Ben Cumberbatch were the same person and that you two were actually married to each other and not having an affair. I was going to say before that nothing could ever come between Benedict and I; unless he were to find out about the Plan.” 

Wanda and Timothy said nothing for a minute.  Donna watched as they exchanged worried looks and felt her heart skip a beat.

“He knows, doesn’t he,” she said.

“We can’t be one hundred percent sure; but we have every reason to believe he hasn’t seen it yet, which is why I need to switch them,” explained Wanda in a reasonable tone.

“No wonder you two are so frantic. So, just how did the wrong CD fall into Benedict’s hands?”

“Wanda had reminded me to give Ben the CD with his name on it the day I planned to give him my mother’s ring,” continued Timothy.  “I had no idea there were two CD’s with his name on it; so I gave him the first one that I had come across, which was the one with all the damning evidence.  The other had gotten mixed in with some papers; so I never saw it.”

Donna blanched as a dozen nasty scenarios ran through her head.  She wrung her hands as tears filled her hazel eyes. “But what if he has already seen it? Jesus Christ!  Do you really believe that he hasn’t looked at it?   What if he did? Oh my God!  I can’t even imagine how angry Benedict would be!  Oh my God!  He’ll call off the wedding!!! He’d call us all liars and won’t want to have anything to do with any of us!  He’ll never understand!  Oh my God!  What are we going to do??  I think I should call my mother and get her advice.  Do you think he’s read it?  Please tell me what you really think the odds are!  I feel like I’m going to faint!”

Donna felt herself beginning to hyperventilate.  Timothy made gentle circles on Donna’s back.  “Take a slow, deep breath, Donna!  Yes, like that…in and out…in and out.  There…just take it easy.”

“How can I take it easy when our lives may be ruined?  Oh my God!  Just when I find the perfect man to love and make a life with and everything will have been for nothing!!  No wedding, no husband, no one to have a family with!!! ” 

Teardrops began to flow freely from Donna’s eyes and down her cheeks. 

“Please try and keep calm, Donna!” said Timothy, handing her a paper serviette to wipe her eyes.  “You just asked us if we think Ben’s had a look at the CD…”

“How can you two remain so fucking calm???  Did he see it or not?” she cried.

“The more I think it through, I’d say definitely not,” replied Timothy, filling a small glass with water and handing it to Donna.  “Here, drink this slowly.  What I just said - I feel the odds are close to nil that he's had a chance to read it yet. This is why we are seemingly calm.”

“I’m in complete agreement with Tim,” added Wanda.  “If Ben had seen the contents of that CD, he would have been right livid.  The repercussions would have been immediate.”

“He may be waiting for the right moment – he may want to get us all together – like in a trial!  Oh my God!  This is like sitting on a time bomb, set to go off at any moment!” wailed Donna.

“I disagree.  He would have gone off like a Roman candle,” interjected Timothy. 

“Ben can be rather impulsive at times – especially when angered,” said Wanda.  “Tim’s right - Benedict would have reacted right away.  His temper never would have allowed him time to devise an ambush.”

“Think it through, Donna,” added Timothy, as he gave Donna a hug and smoothed her hair.  “It’s been six months since I gave him the CD and we haven’t heard a word.  I say Ben hasn’t had time to look at it.  He’s been preoccupied with the wedding plans and filming _Sherlock_. He’s most probably forgotten all about it.”

“You know damn well we would have all heard about it by now had Benedict seen it,” chimed in Wanda.  “There’s no way he would have seen the contents and not uttered a word about it to any of us.”

“It’s not in Ben’s nature to keep something that explosive close to his vest. He would have gone straight to you or us for a confrontation,” added Timothy.  “He would never be able to sit on something like that for this long.  Barrister Ben’s mouth filter would not allow that.”

Donna sniffed and looked from Wanda to Timothy.  Her face was still pale, and she had black smudges of mascara underneath her eyes.   “So you think we’re still safe?”

“Yes, I do,” said Wanda.  “But I won’t be able to properly relax until I have the correct one back in my possession.”

“Which is why we need to sort out this CD business before he returns tonight,” said Timothy. "It's paramount that we take the proper precautions."

“What did Benedict say when you gave it to him?  Did he ask about what was on it?”

“I told him it contained information pertinent to a family emergency.  He scoffed and told me it was morbid; and that he’d take it home and lock it in his desk drawer for safe keeping.”

“The only place it can be is in the bottom left-hand drawer,” said Donna, wiping her eyes.  “That’s where he stashes all his important papers.”

Wanda pushed her sleeves up over her elbows and rubbed her hands together.  “Jolly good then.  I’ve got my lock pick; so let’s have a go at it, shall we?” she said briskly, as she turned and headed across the lounge towards the desk.  “In the meantime why don’t you two tend to the tea and coffee?  I really could use some caffeine about now.” 

 

 

Ten minutes later, Donna and Timothy emerged from Benedict’s kitchen armed with steaming mugs of coffee and tea.  Wanda was sitting in front of Benedict’s roll top desk, contemplating the now unlocked drawer with a frown. 

“Coffee’s ready.  Where shall I put it?” Timothy asked her.

“On the desk, to my left please,” instructed Wanda brusquely. 

“That was fast!” said Donna, upon seeing the open drawer.

“The lock was quite easy to pick,” said Wanda, turning to face them.  “Unfortunately, the CD wasn’t in the drawer.”

Timothy and Donna exchanged worried looks. 

“Did you try the other drawers?” asked Donna.  “Maybe he just shoved it in another one – especially if he were tired and in a hurry.”

“Good point, Donna,” said Timothy.  “Ben would have been distracted with designing your engagement ring.  I could see him doing that.”

Wanda took a swallow of coffee and shook her head. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news; but I’ve already gone through all of these drawers and still no CD.”

“Crap!”  Exclaimed a frustrated Donna.  “That’s just great!”

“What do you suggest now, Commander?” inquired Timothy, taking a seat on the couch.  “We await your instructions with baited breath.”

“Stop being snarky, Tim,” snapped Wanda.

“I’m not being snarky…”

“Please don’t bicker, you two.  We’ve got to work together!” Donna scolded them.  “It would make sense that Benedict would have come straight back here that day because he wouldn’t be comfortable walking around London with such an expensive piece of jewelry in his pocket.  I remember he told me how nervous he was flying to New York with it.”

Timothy nodded.  “I agree.  Ben would have stashed the ring here where you wouldn’t be able to come across it.”

“So, in theory, the CD must also be here somewhere,” finished Wanda. 

“I concur, Commander,” said Timothy.

“Let’s start looking then. Make sure to take extra care to leave everything as you found it because Benedict will certainly notice – believe it or not. Tim, you take the lounge and kitchen.  Donna, you take the bedroom; and I’ll search the second bedroom.  Between the three of us, surely one of us will uncover the bloody thing.”

 

*************************************************

 

Benedict Cumberbatch was convinced that he was stuck in the Twilight Zone as Una Stubbs continued telling his cast mates how he and Donna had met.  He sat in stunned silence whilst pretending to study his lines as Una recited the conversation that had taken place between herself and his mother.

“Wanda led me over to her computer and showed me an advert she had spent a good portion of the morning composing.  I couldn’t believe what I was reading so I asked her…”

_I fucking can’t believe I’m hearing this!  Mum really was preparing a personal ad on my behalf!  Dad’s never going to believe this._

"This is surely a joke, yes? I asked her."

 _And the fucking joke was on me!_  
  
"Not at all, Wanda assured me.  So I said to her:  Please tell me you didn't post this, and Wanda said:  Not yet. I wanted your input first."

 _Mum wanted Una’s input, bless her.  I hope to hell Una told her what a daft idea it was!_  
  
“So I had another read of the advert just to make sure I understood the whole thing the first time, which I had; and I said to Wanda:  I believe you have described Prince Charming and Cinderella quite well."

Everyone at the table laughed uproariously…except for Benedict, who was slowly starting to fume.

 _Bloody hell!  I can only imagine how Mum over-inflated my meager good qualities in that advert._  
  
"Wanda didn’t find my reply very funny.  She said:  Una! Be serious!  You certainly don't need my opinion, I told her."

_Am I imagining this?  Could I be back at the hotel in the midst of a dream?  
_

_No.  I’m not.  I’m hearing this._  
  
"This made Wanda rather defensive.  She asked me why not. So, I told her how I felt.  I said:  Well, it's obvious you should be consulting the Pope or a breeder - because you're describing either a saint or a cocker spaniel."

Everyone laughed again, except for Benedict, whose anger was steadily increasing.  He closed his eyes for a moment and could hear his mother’s voice inside his head even though Una was speaking her words:  
  
"Really, Una, be serious! I said."

_Oh, but Mum apparently was serious, bless her scheming little heart._

"I am being serious! Wanda insisted.  So I asked her:  Does Timothy know about this?"

 _Ah.  I can’t wait to hear how Mum got around that. I’d bet anything that Dad had no idea what she was up to._  
  
"Well, Wanda was properly horrified at my question. Of course not! He'd never understand, she told me."

 _Mum should have been properly horrified for even entertaining such a barmy idea!  She was right about one thing – Dad would never, ever understand or condone such a crazy thing!  He would be furious – and rightfully so._  
  
"Wanda Cumberbatch, I can't believe you would actually do something this crazy.  Have you lost your bloody mind? Timothy will hit the ceiling if he finds out…” 

_Dad would definitely hit the ceiling – amongst other things.  I can just imagine him pounding his fist on the desktop._

“… and I don't even want to think about what Benedict's reaction will be!"

_That’s right.  You don’t, Una.  Right now, I am exercising all the self-control I can possibly muster.  I don’t know how I’m managing not to take you aside so I can properly question you in private.  There is so much I want to ask you!_

"However, my dear friend was beside herself.  Wanda was not only inconsolable, but determined as well to go through with placing her advert.”

_I can only imagine.  Once the Wanda Express has left the station, it can’t be stopped. But wait just a minute, Benedict.  Una didn’t say that Mum actually went ahead with this scheme. It sounds like she was trying to talk Mum around into not doing it, bless her.  Perhaps I’m jumping the gun here.  Let me hear the rest of it._

“Wanda said to me:  Una! You've been listening to me all afternoon!  Did you not understand the problem?"

_Oh, I bet Una did understand – every fucking person who Mum has had any sort of contact with on a regular or semi-regular basis from London to Gloucestershire knows of my broodiness._

"I said to Wanda:  I listened to your every word, Love.  Benedict's feeling broody but is either too busy to find a bird or the ones he does find are rubbish.  You want Timothy to have his own grand kids, and you're jealous of everyone else's. Is that it in a nutshell?"

_I’d say it is. I’m just poor, pitiful, broody Benedict; who can’t find a suitable bird.  Perhaps if I had turned on my motherfucking mouth filter rather than pouring my heart out to Mum and Dad all the time; I wouldn’t be sat here listening to this rubbish… and Mum never would have considered resorting to such a folly.  
_

_Who are you kidding, Benedict?  Mum would still be trying to match you up when she saw you weren’t bringing home any promising girlfriends who she could deem worthy of becoming Mrs. Benedict Cumberbatch.  Ha ha!_  
  
"And Wanda agreed with me. That's it exactly, she admitted. I never realized just how jealous I was until you said it. God forgive me, but I am...blimey, that makes me sound horrible."

_Yes, Mum, it makes you sound horrible.  Crikey!_

“Poor thing,” murmured Rupert.  “I think I can understand how she felt...you know about carrying on the family name and all.”

“Awww,” said Vinette.  “I feel so sorry for your mum, Ben.”

_Don’t feel sorry for Mum, Vinette.  You need to walk in my shoes to totally understand Mum and her motivation, which has been slowly driving me to distraction.  Speaking of being distracted, I really need to learn these lines.  
_

However, Benedict could not resist Una’s spellbinding delivery of the conversation.  He felt himself clenching his jaw as the older woman continued the story:  
  
"You're not horrible, Wanda, I told her.  You're becoming impatient about things you have no control over."

Benedict snorted and pretended it was a reaction to something he had read in the script. 

 _And when has that ever stopped Mum from trying to interfere in my love life?_  
  
"Wanda looked so terribly, terribly sad.  She said: I'm tired of looking at ultrasounds and holiday photos. Tim and I are getting older every day.  Ben keeps dating these empty-headed dolly birds.  I know the type of woman he needs more than he does, yet I'm torn about placing the ad.  What do you think I should do?"

_I hope to hell you told her to mind her own business and not to place that ridiculous advert; but somehow I’m beginning to get an awful feeling that this did not happen.  
_

_But wait just a minute, Benedict.  Una didn’t say that Mum actually went ahead with this hair-brained scheme.  Perhaps I’m jumping the gun again.  Let me hear what she has to say._  
  
"I said:  Wanda, I think you should get a puppy."

Everyone at the table laughed again.

“A puppy!” giggled Vinette.

Rupert was wiping tears of merriment from his eyes.  “This just keeps getting better and better!” he laughed.

“You’re quite the funny one, Una,” Snickered Martin, arms folded across his chest.

 _I’m so chuffed that my cast-mates are so amused at my expense.  I wish I could just crawl back to my dressing room._  
  
"Wanda didn’t think so, Martin.  She said: I don't want a puppy, Una.  I just want to help Ben find a nice bird so he can get on with his life!”

Martin shook his head.  “Pardon me for saying this Ben; but your Mum’s a right corker and needed to mind her own fucking business.  This is over the top – funny as hell – but still over the top.”

“Oh, I’m used to it,” sighed Benedict, as he turned the page of the script and looked for Steven’s notes that were highlighted in mint green. 

_First sensible words I’ve heard so far.  Martin gets it. He has an idea that Mum is constantly crossing the line.  
_

“I don’t even give my mother’s ranting a second thought anymore.”

_Until today.  
_

“Jolly good for you, Ben. You’re a far better man than I am,” said Martin.  "Had that been my mother, I would have told her to stop acting like an utter twat and stop with the shit."

"No, you wouldn't have!" scolded Vinette.  "That would be completely disrespectful, Martin!"

"Probably not, but I'd be fucking thinking it, believe me," laughed Martin.  "I'd endeavour to be more diplomatic with her."

Benedict looked up from underneath his eyelashes that Claire had darkened with mascara to match his dyed hair, and he could see that the rest of his cast-mates were sat spellbound as they listened to Una’s words.  

“Then I asked Wanda: Do you want my opinion or not?"  
  
"Yes!  You know I value your opinion!  Wanda was quite insistent about it.”

Benedict unclenched his jaw as it was getting sore.  He rubbed it until the muscles relaxed.

“Are you okay, Ben?” Martin asked him.

“Fine.  Fine.  I’m a bit stressed with trying to learn these lines so quickly.  I’ll be alright though.”

 _I’m stressed as fuck because I can’t wait to hear what Una told Mum. Please stop dragging this out, Una.  Get to the fucking point already!  And they accuse me of waffling!_  
  
"I think Ben's doing fine without your help, I told her. He has plenty of friends, and from what you tell me a decent social life. He's bought his own place up in Hampstead. He's been working steady - and that speaks volumes for an actor.  Your Ben is very talented, Wanda, I said.   All he needs is that one big break."

“And hopefully this show will be a big break for all of us,” interjected Rupert with a smile.

“Amen to that,” agreed Martin.  “Even though the BBC pays shit, the money is still welcome.”

“Did Wanda mind your advice?” asked Vinette, leaning forward in her seat.

 _Thank you, Vinette!  This is what I need to know!_  
  
"Unfortunately, my words did little to soothe my friend.  She said: Then he'll never have time to meet anyone!” 

“Bloody motherfucking hell!” laughed Martin.  “Your mum really doesn’t give up, bless her.”

_Apparently not, and I am not finding this one bit funny. I’m embarrassed and appalled.  
_

“Besides, Wanda said, he's the one who gave me the idea in the first place. I'm just acting on his suggestion."

Benedict looked up and tried to contain his facial expression from giving his surprise away.

_WHAT IS THIS I’M HEARING???  I GAVE MUM THE IDEA????_

“Hold on, here!” exclaimed Phil holding up a hand.  “Do you mean you actually suggested to your dear Mum that she should place a personal advert for you?”  He addressed Benedict.  “Oh, forgive me, Ben.  We’ll let Una finish telling us.  Go back to your learning your lines, I didn’t mean to break your concentration.”

_My concentration was broken a long time ago, Phil._

Benedict felt himself snap the pencil he was toying with in half.  He stared at Una as he began to grind his teeth together.

_For fucks sake!  What fresh hell is this? I gave my mother the idea?  What in the hell was Mum talking about?  I would never – ever – condone her placing a personal ad on my behalf.  Have they all lost their bloody minds?  
_

Benedict felt Martin gently tap his forearm.  Apparently, he had noticed Benedict breaking the pencil and grinding his teeth.  “Are you sure you’re alright, Ben?” he asked quietly.

“Yeah.  Yeah.  I’m fine.  Just trying to learn this one bugger of a line is all.”

Martin nodded understandingly and returned his attention to Una.  Benedict sat wracking his brain for anything he might have said that may have been misconstrued by his mother. Unfortunately, he kept coming up blank.

"I'll bet you a hundred quid that wasn't what Benedict meant at all, I said to Wanda.  Now, stop worrying so much! Relax and concentrate on your upcoming gigs.  Fate will lead him to the right bird eventually."

 _And you would have been correct and a hundred quid richer, Una._  
  
"Fate is taking too leisurely of a pace to suit me, Wanda retorted.  I just want to give fate a little poke.  So, I asked Wanda:  how, may I ask, do you plan on doing that?"

 _I can’t wait to hear what Mum’s response was._  
  
"And Wanda said: Well, I'm going to pick the best candidates from the ad responses and interview them."

 _Did Una say interview them?_  
  
"Interview them? I asked Wanda to make sure I had heard her right.  Then Wanda fixed me with a look and said:  How else will I be able to weed out the unqualified ones?"

 _Bloody hell! Mum intended to interview all the women who responded to her ad?_   _This keeps getting more and more daft!_

“That Wanda certainly is a force to be reckoned with.  She's a corker, as Martin just said -  bless her!” laughed Phil. 

 _Corker is not the word I was just thinking of,_ _but it’ll do,_ thought Benedict.  _My description would be much more colourful...only obscene words are coming to mind._

“How sweet was that of her to want to handle the whole process in order to save Ben time?” added Vinette.  “Now, that’s one right caring mother.”

_No, Vinette.  You’ve got it all wrong, Love.  It’s one right nosey mother, who can’t seem to keep her nose out of her son’s life!  Jesus Christ!  And they all seem okay with this? What does Donna call it?  Smother love.  
_

Una’s next sentence jolted Benedict back from his thoughts:  
  
"The idea of Wanda conducting proper, professional interviews in her home was just preposterous, so I asked her: Where do you intend to conduct these interviews - not here, certainly?"

 _Oh, I can’t wait to hear Mum’s response.  She probably was going to meet them at my flat whilst I was away filming; so she could give them a tour._  
  
"Wanda agreed with me.  She said:  It wouldn't be a good idea to do it here.  I never know when Tim's show may wrap early or if Ben's going to pop in. I'd have a hell of a time trying to cover my tracks."

 _You sure would, Mum._  
  
“In spite of my trying to talk her around, Wanda was still very adamant about placing that advert.  She asked me again: So, what do you really think of it?"  
  
I’m waiting for the part when Una tells Mum this was an utterly rubbish idea and to mentally bin it.  Then she’ll get to the part about how Donna and I met by chance at Barbecoa.  Now, that was much funnier.

As Una continued talking, she mentioned that he had called Wanda to apologize for a row they had had over his finding a girlfriend that weekend.  Suddenly, a warning bell began to ring in Benedict’s mind.  

_Wait a minute.  Something is coming back to me.  Una’s talking about the morning Mum and I had the row when my driver, Al, came to Gloucestershire.  He was there to collect me for the drive to Pembrokeshire so I could film Third Star.  Mum and I had been going at it all weekend about my finding an acceptable bird…_

The scene played out in Benedict’s mind as if it were yesterday:

 

Wanda had followed him to the door of the Crafter’s cottage and called after him as he headed down the stone walk, towards the car.  
  
**_“Did you know, Ben, that Alfred has two single daughters?  One's at Oxford and the other's a barrister!  Each one a beauty.”_**  
  
Benedict had felt the hairs prickle on the back of his neck at the mention of his driver’s daughters.  He stopped dead in his tracks. He slowly turned around and walked back towards his mother in order to confront her.

**_"Might I ask how you came to know this?"_ **

**_"Well, the last time Alfred came to collect you, you had overslept.  All I did was invite the poor man in and make him a nice bacon butty and a cuppa. I certainly couldn't ask him to sit in that car and wait for God knows how long."_**  
  
Benedict recalled how angry he was starting to get.  His left eye had started to twitch.  As a matter of fact, it was twitching now at the memory of their conversation; coupled with what he was now hearing from Una.

**_"We got to chatting whilst he was eating. It's quite normal to talk about one's children," continued Wanda nonchalantly.  "He told me all about his daughters and showed me their photos."_ **

Benedict remembered thinking at the time that Wanda must have asked if his driver had photos on him.  He had felt the blood rushing to his head, and his face started to burn with anger.   He recalled turning on his heel and stomping back down the walk.  Benedict could visualize himself tossing his bags into the open boot of the car, and slamming the lid down with such force that the car shook.  He had suddenly turned to his mother and threw up his hands in defeat.   
_  
“ **For fuck’s sake, Mum, why don’t you just put an ad in Craigslist for a bird for me?!”**_ **** _  
_  
_Fuck me!  Please don’t tell me that Mum took me at my word for once!_

Benedict’s mind was racing.  It went over the conversation one more time as he stared at the page in front of him.  The words were a blur to him and the voices around him were muffled as he concentrated. _  
_

_So, I did give Mum the idea; but I never dreamt in a thousand years that she’d actually act on my cheeky suggestion.  She certainly should have realized that I was only being snarky. I would never condone such a thing! What son would allow his mother to place a persona ad on his behalf and then ask her to conduct interviews for him?  Not I!  
_

The sound of Una’s voice brought Benedict jolted him back to the present:

"I finally said to Wanda:  I'm sorry, love.  As a mother of a still-single son, I really do understand and sympathize with your frustration, but I think you're sailing into dangerous waters if you do this." 

 _Excellent advice, Una.  I knew I could count on you to kerb Mum’s impulses._  
  
"But Wanda stared me down with those blue eyes of hers and said: So I take it you're going to let me set sail alone?  I told her: I should let you drown, Wanda; but I won't.  Are you sure I can’t persuade you to change your mind?”

 _No, Una.  Even I could answer that.  Once the Wanda Express has left the station…all hope is lost._  
  
"Not at all, Wanda insisted.”

“That’s one right determined lady,” laughed Phil.

 _More like one right stubborn lady,_ thought Benedict angrily.   
  
"What was I to do?” Una asked the cast members, spreading her hands in a helpless gesture.  “She was quite adamant about it.”

 _I hope to God you said ‘Piss off, Wanda!  There’s nothing you can say that will convince me that deceiving your son is the right thing to do!_   _Timothy is sure to find out eventually and will not be chuffed with you_. _You’re going to make a complete fool of yourself and cock up your relationship with your son and your husband if you proceed with this folly!_

“I couldn’t bear to see my dear friend in such a way; so I took another look at the advert and made some suggestions,” said Una.

_For fucks sake!  I never took Una for a traitor!_

"So, we pared it down and kept it simple.”

_How lovely!  They pared it down and kept it simple!  Jolly good for them.  I need to see this fucking advert!!!! I bet Mum saved it on a CD or…wait…that folder I found in her flat.  Mum said it was for recipes.  Bullshit!  I bet it was for resumes!  Christ on a crutch!_

“In the end I advised Wanda to just pick a couple of adjectives to describe Ben. I told her to let him sell himself once she made the introductions."

_Let me sell myself once she made the bloody introductions...I can't possibly be hearing this correctly._

_Oh, but you are, Benedict.  You know you are._

Benedict felt the start of a migraine headache and massaged his temples.

 _What extraordinary fuckery is this?  So Mum was going to place this personal ad on my behalf and then have the bollocks to weed out the unacceptable responses – in her opinion - after which she’d introduce me to the contenders or how about the winners? I was to be the fucking prize? Oh, Mum, you really overstepped your bounds this time. I’m so angry I could just spit!_  
  
"Well, Wanda hadn’t planned on doing that.  She said:  Nooo!!  I can't introduce them - it has to look like a chance meeting! Benedict would never agree to meet someone I found in a want ad."

_You’re right on that account, Mum._

"Oh, Wanda Cumberbatch, what a tangled web we weave, I told her. So, Wanda posted the advert, and we hoped for the best."

Benedict Cumberbatch felt the acid churning in his stomach as a terrifying thought occurred to him.

_Wait. A. Minute.  Mum told Una that it had to look like a chance meeting.  Does that mean…no.  No.  That is just too fucking crazy – even for Mum.  My mind is on overdrive.  I need to shut out this conversation and learn my lines before Steven and Mark wind up sacking me.  
_

_But what if that were true?_

_No.  No.  I won’t even entertain such a wild notion.  I couldn’t bear the thought of such a thing being true.  It couldn’t have happened that way.  
_

_Oh, Benedict, you know it did.  Stop deluding yourself. You know that would explain everything.  The explanation is just too simple though: Mum placed that blasted ad, and Donna answered it.  I remember Donna telling me she had once answered a personal ad.  It must have been Mum’s ad. So, my fiancée was in it, too!  Donna and Mum conspired together to make me think our meeting at Barbecoa was by chance._

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Benedict is embarking on an emotional roller coaster of his own. Even though he badly wants to deny everything he's hearing, he knows deep down inside that Una wouldn't make it up and this is what happened. However, he's got part of it wrong regarding how he and Donna actually met. 
> 
> 2\. Martin was more toned down for this chapter as I didn't see where any excessive swearing on his part would fit in with reality. Benedict was a different story. He has every reason to swear. 
> 
> 3\. So now we have Wanda, Timothy and Donna all in a panic about the missing CD. They will be riding their own emotional roller coaster as well. The question remains when and will they converge with Benedict's?
> 
> 4\. I don't know if it really was faster for Donna to take a cab from Central London up to Hampstead in the middle of the day; but it was for the purpose of this chapter.
> 
> 5\. I included excerpts from one of the first chapters I wrote in order to refresh everyone's memory and I included the reworded scene between Una and Wanda detailing of how the ad came to be posted.


	179. Chapter 179

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Part 3 of The Reveal: Una finishes telling the Sherlock cast the story of how Benedict and Donna met. Wanda, Timothy and Donna frantically search Benedict’s flat for the CD. Benedict is delayed returning to London.
> 
> Please note that an appearance by Martin Freeman means there will be more swearing than usual in this chapter. If easily offended, feel free to skip.
> 
> Note: I’ll be using *************** for things happening at the same time.

 

Benedict Cumberbatches' mind was reeling from the words that continued to tumble from Una Stubbs’ mouth. 

“Blimey!  So Ben’s mum really did go through with placing that personal ad without his permission – I’ve got to tell you that I’m gob-smacked!” laughed Jonathan Aries, as he stirred some milk into his coffee. 

 _You’re not the only one sat at this table who’s gob-smacked_ , thought Benedict.  _I’m hearing this, yet part of me doesn’t want to believe it._  

Una nodded.  “Yes, she really did, bless her.”

“With some encouragement from you,” muttered Benedict under his breath.

“Did Wanda get many responses to this ridiculous advert?” inquired Martin, helping himself to another serving of the cake and ice cream. 

Benedict could see the smirk on Martin’s face.  _He finds this all very amusing – they all do._

“Oh, my, yes!  Wanda got over fifty responses to her ad!  She was so over the moon!”

“Jesus, Mary and Joseph!” breathed Rupert. 

“That’s quite an impressive number!” added Phil.

Martin spit out the mouthful of cake and ice cream as he sputtered.  “Jesus motherfucking Christ!  Over fifty women responded you say?”

Una smiled and nodded.  “Yes. Neither of us were really expecting it – you know, maybe a handful at best; but over fifty…well, you can imagine our surprise!”

Benedict looked up with a start and blinked.  _MUM RECEIVED OVER FIFTY RESPONSES TO HER AD????  Imagine my surprise on hearing this morsel of information, Una.  Maybe I didn’t hear that correctly.  Just to be sure…_

“You just said Mum received over fifty responses to her ad, yes?” 

Una giggled and nodded.  “Why yes. Didn’t she ever tell you?”

Benedict flashed a false smile at her.  “No.  Mum didn’t say a word to me about it.” _About any of it!  I’ve been kept in the dark this whole time like a fucking mushroom buried in a pile of shit in a hothouse._   _  
_

Vinette looked very impressed across the table as she sat with her arms crossed over her bosom.  “You should be very flattered, Ben, to have all those women interested in you!”

_Strangely, I find a part of me is - after the fact._

“However, a lot of these birds turned out to be barmy or unsuitable,” interrupted Una.  “Wanda could tell just by reading their cover letters and cvs.”

 _Translation:  they were hard pressed to find themselves a husband and taking a shot in the dark,_ thought Benedict.

“Did Wanda ask them to submit photographs as well?” asked Phil.  “That’s the norm for personal ads these days yes?”

Una nodded.  “Of course she did.  Anyone who places those sort of adverts request photographs…”

_Of course they do.  So, Mum was keeping photographs and cvs in that folder she had locked away in her desk drawer.  Recipes my arse!  I bet she’s most likely tossed them being Donna and I are together now.  
_

_Donna.  
_

_I need to find out just how she fits into all this…I so don’t want to believe that she’d conspire with Mum and lie to me. We met by chance.  
_

_Or did we?  
_

“Wait.  I’m curious about something,” said Rupert, raising a hand.  “All this time Ben’s dad hadn’t a clue about all of this going on underneath his nose yes?”

_Her son sure as shit didn’t, so why not her husband as well? This is definitely the sort of thing Mum would keep from Dad, like our enjoying our annual Mother’s Day spliff together. Hmmm…We didn’t honour our little secret tradition last year or this year._

“Tim had no idea until the afternoon he came home early from filming and surprised Wanda, who was in the middle of reviewing cvs and photos in their lounge...”

_Ha!  And what a surprise that must have been for Mum!  So, Dad caught her red-handed!  He derailed the Wanda Express en route to its second stop.  I can’t wait to hear what happened.  I bet he shut that down fast. Well done, Dad._

“…at first he was absolutely furious with Wanda…”

 _And rightfully so,_ thought a bemused Benedict.  _I’d love to have seen her face when she saw him. I’m surprised Dad never told me…I suppose he knew I’d be angry._

“…but once she pleaded her case to him, Tim gave in and joined her in the quest for a suitable bird for Ben.”

Benedict did a double take at Una’s words.  _NO!  Not Dad!  Dad was just as involved as Mum in this spectacular scheme?  Impossible!  I refuse to believe it.  That’s akin to treason for fucks sake!  
_

_But you should believe it, Benedict.  Think of all those times you caught them doing weird things - Some of those explanations were completely crackers...Like the Hampstead web cam or Dad’s buying Donna tampons.  
_

_Donna.  
_

_It keeps coming back to Donna.  My darling is somehow involved in this._

“Hahaha!  What a wankfest!  This is just too motherfucking hilarious.  So, Ben’s dad was in on this bollocks scheme as well!” laughed Martin, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye.

Rupert barked out a laugh.  “What role did Ben’s dad play in this…I don’t want to say scheme because it sounds so…devious.”

Benedict caught himself clenching his jaw again.   _Scheme is a fine and splendid word for it, Rupert.  Why the fuck not? It was a devious scheme done in the name of love._

“They called it The Plan,” Chortled Una.  “And Timothy used to affectionately refer to Wanda as The Commander.”

Benedict twisted the stub of the pencil and bit down on his lower lip until he tasted blood in his mouth.  He took his paper serviette and daintily dabbed at his lip, hoping no one would notice.

_Well, well.  So my parents and partners-in-crime call their scheme The Plan.  Thank you, Una, for also clearing up the mystery as to why Dad has recently taken to referring to Mum as The Commander. Mum, Dad and Donna have all referred to the Plan, but every time I attempted to question them as to what they were talking about, they said I had misheard or misunderstood.  
_

_Apparently, I did not misunderstand or hear wrong.  
_

“I have to say this is one of the funniest things I’ve ever heard!” giggled Vinette.  “Just think:  a mother and father running a personal advert for a wife for their son!  You can’t make this sort of thing up!”

“Just how involved did Ben’s dad get?”  Jonathan asked Una.

“Tim became completely involved once he got his feet wet, so to speak. He was a tremendous help.  He aided Wanda in screening and weeding out unsuitable candidates...”

_So, my father helped prune the candidate pool. How lovely!  I suppose I have him to thank that Donna made the cut. Oh, Dad.  How could you?  You’re always the voice of sanity and reason in our family.  What in the hell did Mum say in order to talk you around into participating in such a scheme?  
_

“Ben, your lower lip is bleeding,” observed Phil.  “Are you okay?”

Benedict dabbed his lip again.  “Yeah.  I’m fine.  I just bit it by accident.  I’m sure Claire can put something on it.”

_Bloody motherfucking hell!  Did Martin just side-eye me?  I have a feeling he’s not buying that I accidentally bit my lip.  
_

“Let me get you some ice, Ben,” said Vinette getting to her feet.  “That will help with any swelling.”

“As you were, Una,” prodded Martin.  _  
_

“…and once Wanda and Tim had their list of candidates narrowed down to the top twenty or so…”

_Bloody hell!  They had a fucking list!  Mum probably used the same spiel on Dad that she used on Una.   It didn’t take much to win over Una to her side…but Dad?  He rarely gives in when he thinks Mum is being over-the-top.  I suppose he didn’t think so for once. Dad wants to see me married and settled down with a family every bit as much as Mum does, I suppose.  He’s just not as vocal about it._

“…they began to interview them.”

Benedict took a deep breath and let it out slowly in an effort to control his mounting anger.

_I must be dreaming…I can’t even imagine Mum and Dad conducting interviews for a prospective wife for me.  What in the hell did they ask these women?  Can you cook?  How many children are you willing to bear?  Do you fancy marmite on your morning toast? No. No. No! I can’t visualize it.  
_

_Or can I?  I think I just did.  Hells bells!  
_

“Try this, Ben,” said Vinette handing him an ice-filled cloth serviette.  “What did I miss?”

“Ben’s parents narrowed down their list of prospective wives and started interviewing the candidates together,” summed up Martin.  _  
_

“So, these women all came around to Ben’s parents’ flat to be interviewed,” said Rupert.

“Heavens no!” laughed Una.  “Wanda and Timothy arranged to meet these birds in public places…”

_Oh, Dad.  Why?  I just can’t envision these interviews.  
_

_Or can I?  
_

_Yes, you can, Benedict.  You know you can.  
_

_No!  I haven’t a clue where they would meet these women.  
_

_Yes, you do, Benedict.  
_

_You caught them in the act twice.  Think about it. Rattle the brains as Donna would say.  
_

“…actually it was Wanda who conducted the actual interviews, and Tim would sit nearby and listen in,” clarified Una.  “I remember their favourite meeting place was Paul’s in Earl’s Court.  Wanda would make sure to get back-to-back tables so whilst she was chatting with the girl, Tim would sit at the other table and pretend...”

_To read a book or the motherfucking paper!  
_

_No.  Dad would never do something so…covert.  
_

_Of course he would, Benedict._

_Think about it.  You've seen him doing it, that's how you know._

_Impossible!_

_It's really not when you think about it.  What does Sherlock Holmes always say?_

_ When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth. _

_ Bloody fucking hell. _

_What did Dad think – he was being a bloody spy?  
_

_Stop trying to deny it, Benedict.  You caught them at it but didn’t realize it at the time.  
_

_NO.  
_

_Yes. Yes you did. Think long and hard, and it will come to you.  You’re just in denial right now.  
_

“Just how in the hell did they manage to conduct all these interviews?” asked Martin.  “To do something like that properly would take an incredibly long time, I’d imagine.”

“They did it over the course of several weeks; but once Wanda finished up with the first batch she became more and more savvy and was able to see straight off whether a bird was worthwhile doing an in-depth interview with.”

_The first batch!  They did them in batches???_

“Christ, that sounds rather tedious!” interjected Phil.

“Oh, it was, but they soldiered on towards their goal,” replied Una.

"Bless them to possess such stamina at their age!" said Vinette.

_They were possessed alright._

"True that, Vinette," laughed Martin.  "I'd be completely knackered from trying to get all that shit done and keep everything straight."

_No wonder Mum and Dad were always saying how knackered they were whenever I would invite them out to dinner or want to come over and visit.  I thought they were avoiding me at the time._

"Oh, Wanda took notes at the interviews," said Una.

_Notes? Does she mean Mum was sat there with a notebook and wrote down their answers?_

Martin rubbed the back of his neck.  "That's devotion."

_No, Martin.  That's daft is what it is._

_Or is it?_

_Mum has always been very organized; so why wouldn't she?  That actually makes a modicum of sense._

Benedict was pulled out of his reverie by Una’s response to Jonathan Aries’ question.

“When did they finally come across the woman who would become Ben’s fiancée?

_They didn’t, Jonathan.  I came across her in a restaurant._

“Wanda and Tim were fast becoming discouraged with the women they had interviewed.  Not one of them seemed particularly promising.  Finally Wanda and Tim were down to the last three birds on their list.  However, these three birds really stood out as prime candidates.  These birds had such impressive credentials that they had high hopes and decided to interview them over a meal.  I remember they did it all on the same day…”

_And I remember that day._

_They interviewed Jessica DeHaviland at Lauduree over breakfast. I’m also fairly certain Jessica isn’t a ghost-writer either; but I’ll make a mental note to ask her once we begin After the Dance rehearsals.  
_

_They interviewed Samantha Alden whatever her last name was at Quince. She was not Mum’s Literary Agent, as I had automatically assumed, which means there was never a book deal in the first place.  All that bullshit over Mum being asked to write her memoirs was just that – bullshit to throw me off the scent.  
_

_But what about the last candidate?  I wasn’t present at that one…  
_

_That had to be …  
_

_No.  I won’t accept that.  
_

_You know it was, Benedict.  It was Donna.  
_

“So whichever girl they fancied best, was the one they were going to arrange to accidentally bump into Ben,” said Vinette.

Una nodded.  “That was the plan.” _  
_

Sue Vertue entered the café and scanned the room for her cast.  As soon as she saw them, she trotted over to stand behind Benedict, Una and Martin in order to address the table. 

“Excuse me, Ladies and Gentlemen; I hope I’m not disturbing anything…”

“Well, actually, Una was telling us the most remarkable story of how Ben here met his fiancée,” said Martin. 

“It’s an absolute stonker of a story,” laughed Phil. 

“Sorry to intrude then; but we’ll be needing you all back on the sound stage, as we’re ready to resume filming,” said Sue.  “We all thank you for your patience.” _  
_

“Can you wrap this up quickly for us, Una?” asked Rupert, getting to his feet.

“Well, Ben’s Donna was the bird who Wanda and Tim fell in love with.  They absolutely adored her and felt she would be perfect for Ben…”

“Which she is,” smiled Benedict as he got up and pulled Una’s chair out for her.  _I wonder if any of them can tell I'm forcing this smile._

“To make a long story short, Wanda and Tim set up a meeting that would look as if Donna and Ben were going to just bump into each other.  They were certain that Ben would be charmed by her and well, after a few mishaps, they got together and here we are today with a wedding planned!”

Benedict was thunderstruck by Una’s statement.  He felt a chill go up and down his spine. 

_For fucks sake!  That night at Barbecoa was a set-up!!!  Donna knew exactly what she was doing!!!_

“How did you find out about this wild plan of your mother’s?” asked Jonathan.

_Una just told me is how.  I can’t believe I just sat here and didn’t explode. I must be getting better at self-control than I thought.  
_

Benedict mustered all the self-control he had and rubbed the back of his neck.  “Well…erm…to be honest…I only found out fairly recently.”  He forced himself to laugh.

“When things became serious between Benedict and Donna, I begged Wanda to tell Ben the whole story for fear that he wouldn’t understand and become stroppy about their deceiving him…”

_Stroppy?  Hell fucking no - I passed stroppy a long time ago, Una.  I'm so angry, I can't see or think straight._

_So you asked Mum to tell me, which she didn't, because you were concerned that I wouldn't understand and would become stroppy. Right you are, Una. I don’t understand and I’m fucking livid is what I am!_

“I told Wanda that it was best to come clean and that Ben would surely understand as he’s such a reasonable person.  Surely, he would be cross at first; but then things would sort themselves out once he realized that they were doing it out of love and concern for his happiness and well-being.”

_You give me far more credit than I deserve, Una. I don’t understand, and I’m well beyond cross right now.  I’m fucking livid, is what I am!_

“And Wanda promised me that she’d discuss it with Timothy and tell Ben.”

Benedict felt himself make a fist underneath the table as the bile rose inside his throat.

_Oh, did she now? Wrong, Una!  Mum gave you lip-service. Your advice was duly noted and ignored. Mum and Dad obviously decided not to tell me, which is why this is the first I’m hearing of this plan.  They were afraid of what my reaction would be and they bloody well had every right to be.  I need some time to mull this over.  My mind is swimming with all this information.  
_

_How could they?_

_How could Donna?_

_I think that’s what hurts the most – to think that Donna’s been lying to me all this time!  
_

 

 

Three hours later, Benedict Cumberbatch and Martin Freeman were leaning against the wall of the entrance hallway of 221B Baker Street set, dressed in their costumes, as they patiently awaited their cue.  Emma Friend, the clapper loader, was stood in front of the camera with the clapper-board awaiting the First Director’s announcements prior to the start of actual filming.

Toby Ford, the first Assistant Director, called out, “Quiet on set!”

There was immediate silence as everyone was anxious to head home.

“Sound?” inquired Toby.

“Sound speed,” replied Richard Dyer, the sound recordist.

“Camera ready?” asked Toby.

“Camera rolling,” replied Mark Milsome, the camera operator.

“Mark it.  Slate 483, Scene 56, Take 5,” Toby announced.

There came the sound of the clap, which signaled to the director that they were ready to proceed.

“And action!” called out Paul McGuigan.

“Mrs. Hudson! Doctor Watson _will_ take the room upstairs,” shouted Benedict towards the rear of the set, where the entrance to Mrs. Hudson’s flat was supposed to be.

“Says who?” asked Martin.

Benedict looked towards the front door knowingly, “Says the man at the door.”

Martin turned his head towards the door just as someone knocked off camera three times.  He turned back to look at Benedict in surprise.  Benedict smiled and Martin then stared at him for a moment before walking over to answer the door. Benedict then leaned his head back against the wall and blew out a breath.

Martin opened the door to find Stanley Townsend, who was playing Angelo, standing on the other side of the door.

“Sherlock texted me,” said Stanley, smiling as he held up John Watson’s walking cane.  “He said you forgot this.”

Martin stared at the cane in mock surprise and took it from Stanley.  “Ah.”  He then turned and looked at Benedict, who grinned at him; before turning back to look at Stanley.  “Er… thank you. Thank you.”

As Martin closed the door and turned back to face Benedict, it was Una’s cue to come out of what was supposed to be her flat and scurry over to them.

“Sherlock, what have you done?” Una asked in a tearful and frightened voice.

“Mrs. Hudson?” asked a confused Benedict.

“Upstairs,” replied Una.

Benedict turned and hurried up the stairs with Martin right behind him.  Benedict stopped abruptly when he got to the top of the stairway as it ended in a blank wall.

“Cut!  That’s a wrap Ladies and Gentlemen!” announced a very pleased-sounding Paul McGuigan.  “Well done all!”

“At least I didn’t bump into the wall this time,” laughed Benedict, following Martin back down the stairs.

“It also helps that I didn’t run into your arse this time,” added Martin.  “As much as I enjoyed it,” he teased.

“Sod off, you wanker,” laughed Benedict good-naturedly.

“Well done, boys!” said Una as both men hugged her affectionately.

“You are a right splendid Mrs. Hudson,” grinned Martin.  “I couldn’t imagine anyone else in the role.”

“Neither can I,” agreed Benedict.  “Who would ever had thought we’d be working together all those years ago when you and Mum used to meet up in Hyde Park to gossip.”

“We weren’t gossiping – we were having a catch up on the news about the neighborhood,” retorted Una.

“In other words – gossiping!” giggled Martin.  “Let’s get out of here, shall we?”

“That’s it for Cardiff then,” said Benedict as the three of them walked out of the Baker Street hallway set.  “And now we can head home!”

_And I can properly deal with this Plan I just found out about._

“Home sounds brilliant!” said Martin.  “I can’t wait to see Amanda and the kids.  Not to mention I’ve missed the bloody dogs.”

“That’s so sweet, Martin,” gushed Una.

“Before you get the wrong idea, Una, I did not miss walking the dogs just so I can stand around in all sorts of ghastly weather waiting for them to take a shit so I can pick it up and dispose of it.”

“You’re always grousing about something, Martin,” teased Benedict. 

“True that.  Most of the time I _am_ bitching about one thing or another.  However, I’m very much looking forward to eating a tasty late dinner at my kitchen table and sleeping in my own comfy bed tonight…ah…”  He paused to stretch.  “Now, that’s a little piece of heaven, except for the walking the dogs and picking up their shit part.  If I didn't know better, I'd swear that Archie waits for me to come home to empty his bowels.

“Anyone fancy seeing the playback?” offered Mark Gatiss from behind the camera.

“Sure,” said Benedict, as Martin and Una trailed after him.

The actors approached the camera where the producers and Paul McGuigan had gathered around to watch the playback. 

"Perfect," said Paul with a smile when it was over.

“Well done, everyone,” said Beryl Vertue.

“For whatever reason that little scene was a bugger to shoot,” Steve Moffat sighed.  “I’m glad we got it right this time.”

“Thank you for doing it again,” Mark said to the actors.

"You're welcome, and it's a damn good thing it came out the way you wanted it; because we had no intention of doing it again," groused Martin.

"He's only taking the piss!" said Una quickly.  "Martin didn't mean that."

"Of course I did!" said Martin with a wink at the producers.  "Una knows me well.  I'm pleased with it as well."

“It did come out much better this time,” agreed Benedict. 

The cast, crew and producers stood around and chatted amicably for a few minutes before starting to pack up.

“Well, Una and I have a train to catch,” said Martin, pointedly looking at his watch. “And we need time to get out of our costumes and makeup.”

“Martin’s going to keep me company on the ride back to London,” added Una.  “What about you, Benedict?  Do you fancy riding with us?”

“I’d love to take you up on your kind offer; but I’m afraid I neglected to mind the weather forecast and drove here,” replied Benedict.  “If you care to ride back with me, there’s room for two more.”

“Are you still driving that old piece of shit Mitsubishi?” inquired Martin.

Benedict nodded.  “Yeah.”

Martin widened his eyes in disbelief.  “Really?”

“Yeah, really,” retorted Benedict.  “What of it?”

“I had no idea the damn thing still ran.”

“Well it does.  It serves me fine,” insisted Benedict.

"It's a proper piece of rubbish," said Martin.

“It’s time you got rid of that old car, Ben,” giggled Sue. “It sounds a fright.”

“I’ll get rid of it when I can afford it,” declared Benedict.  “Right now, I can’t; so I make do.”  He gave Una and Martin a devilish smile.  “What do you two say then?  Feel like throwing caution to the wind and riding with me?”

“Nope, I think I’ll pass,” laughed Martin.  “That fucking car was on its last legs when we filmed the pilot.”

“I can’t believe you’re still driving it!” giggled Una.  “Your parents won’t even go in it.”

“It runs fine,” insisted Benedict. “Donna has no trouble with being a passenger.”

“They say love is blind,” quipped Martin.

Benedict flipped him the bird.  “Sod off.”

Martin flipped him back.  “After you, Mate.”

“All kidding aside - that was very generous of you to offer us a ride, Ben; but, we already bought our return tickets,” added Una.

“We’ll resume filming our outdoor scenes in London on Monday,” said Paul, as he zipped his backpack closed and swung it over his shoulder.

“With proper catering, I assume?” asked Martin with a raised eyebrow at Sue.

“Yes, Martin.  I assure you that Carldonn Creative Catering will be set up on Gower Street when you arrive on set; so there will be a hot breakfast waiting for you.”

Martin smiled.  “Brilliant.  At least I know the porridge won’t be like paste, and they can properly fry an egg.”  He put an arm around Una’s shoulder. “As soon as I’m showered and dressed, I come and collect your luggage.”

“It won’t take me long to get out of costume and makeup,” Una assured him. “I believe Sue said the shuttle bus for the train station will be leaving in an hour.”

“That’s more than enough time to ready myself,” said Martin.

“If it isn’t, I can always drop you two off,” offered Benedict. 

“It would mean going out of your way, and the weather is treacherous,” said Martin.  “I won’t have that.”

Benedict shrugged.  “The offer stands.  Just pop over to my dressing room or text me if you change your minds.”

There was a sudden flurry of activity as the crew began to pack everything up.  Martin, Benedict and Una turned to leave the sound stage.

“So, you never did finish the story of how you and Donna met,” Martin said to Ben.  “We got interrupted, and I’m curious as to how it played out.”

“Benedict! Could I have a word?” called out Sue.

“Go on, you two have a train to catch.  Una can tell you what happened,” said Benedict.  _I really would love hearing Una’s version though.  Perhaps this will be quick, and I can catch up with them._

Sue removed a slip of paper from her handbag and held it out to Benedict. 

“If you’d be kind enough to give this to Donna, I’d appreciate it.  Monday is Danny Hargreaves’ birthday; so I’m hoping she can arrange to have a cake for him at tea time.  I wrote down the size and flavours he fancies and a couple of other little changes that we’ll need.”

“Of course, said Benedict.

"I'll also follow up with an email when I get home."

“Have a lovely weekend, Sue.”

“You have a lovely weekend as well, Ben.”

Benedict bid a cheerful goodbye to the producers and remaining crew as he hurried out of the large, cavernous sound stage and headed towards the dressing rooms.  It didn’t take him long to catch up with Una and Martin, who were walking arm-in-arm.  The hallway was empty, so he could hear their conversation clearly.

“Like I said, there’s no stopping Wanda once she sets her mind to something,” laughed Una.

_That’s why Dad and I call her the Wanda Express once Mum gets started on one of her crusades._

 “And she was hell bent on seeing Ben find the right bird, so he could fall in love and finally get married and have the family he so pined for.”

_For years Mum was hell bent - it fucking never ended! When I think of all the rows we had over my love life – or lack of one.  I could just puke._

“I do understand that part – that his mum just wanted him to realize his dream; but I still can’t wrap my head around this whole fucking scheme – the running of the personal ad and not telling her son.  Not to mention talking her husband around into participating. She literally wanted to hand-pick a prospective wife for Ben.  I’m sorry, but that really was major bollocks in my book,” Declared Martin.  “If I were Ben, I’d never let her get away with such bullshit.”

“Well, to know Wanda is to love her,” smiled Una.  “She really has nothing but the best of intentions, Martin.  She just has a knack for getting carried away is all.”

“So we’ll have to agree to disagree on that, I’m afraid.  Anyway, how did Ben’s mum manage to get them together once she had Donna on board?”

_And now she’ll tell him about how they arranged that whole crazy night at Barbecoa.  Donna really is a credit to her drama teacher, bless her. She must be waiting for my call.  I think I’d better text her rather than ring her.  I don’t trust myself to be civil to her right now. I need to sort this out first. I’m so angry and hurt._

“It was genius really. Wanda devised a simple plan to have Donna go to Parliament Hill Farmers Market and wait for Ben to come by and do his weekly shopping. He’s there every Saturday around eleven. All Donna had to do was to bump into him.”

Benedict stopped at her words, and he felt his heart begin to race.

_For fucks sake!  Parliament Hill?  Is she referring to the Saturday I invited Donna around to my flat for dinner? How could that have been a set up?  No!  We were together by then. I was going to cook her dinner at my flat that night.  That was no set up. That doesn’t make any sense._

“That’s not right!” Benedict called out as he trotted up to Martin and Una.

“What’s not right?” asked Una, turning towards him.

“How I met Donna.  You’ve got it all wrong.”

“How so, Love?” asked Una.

“The timeline’s mucked up,” explained Benedict.  “That’s not how I met Donna at all.  I met her at a restaurant.  We wound up being sat next to each other at a communal table.”

Una chuckled and nodded.  “Yes, yes.  Of course you did. I was going to get to that, but I’ll let you finish it.”

By then the producers and some of the crew had caught up with them, and the discussion had turned to the weather, which had worsened considerably.  The actors hastened to their dressing rooms, seemingly forgetting their prior conversation.  Una disappeared into hers as Martin and Benedict continued to walk down the hallway to theirs. 

Benedict opened the door to his dressing room and turned to Martin, who was unlocking the door to his.  “Let me know if you and Una fancy a ride to the station.”

“I already told you that I won’t let you go out of your way in this nasty weather when the BBC has provided a perfectly nice shuttle bus to drive us all to the station.  However, I do appreciate the offer, Ben.  Have a lovely weekend with your loved ones, and I’ll see you on Gower Street on Monday.”

“Enjoy your family time as well, Martin.”

Benedict shut the door to his dressing room behind him and began to take off his costume.  His mind was racing with all he had heard over the course of the afternoon.  He opened his shaving kit and popped two Tums antacid tablets to soothe the acid churning inside his stomach and two parametecols for his pounding headache.

_I promised Donna I would ring her as soon as we wrapped for the day, but I don’t trust myself that I won’t say something snarky to her about The Plan.  I’m so confused…and angry.  Yes, I’m fucking angry is what I am.  They’ve all been lying to me.  I need to calm down before I make that call. Perhaps I’m better off texting her.  No, Donna will want to hear my voice.  Ha!  This time she won’t fancy the sound of it!  
_

Benedict put on some music and went about the business of removing his makeup and showering.  Unfortunately, by the time he emerged from the shower, he still was feeling stroppy.  His mind was still swirling with unpleasant thoughts as he blew his hair dry and dressed in an old pair of jeans and a woolen jumper.

_I’m definitely not going to Donna’s flat tonight.  I don’t think I can face her without picking a row with her.  I think it best if I go straight home.  I need to be alone so I can have a proper think about all of this. I must be getting better at controlling my temper as normally I would have gone straight over to Mum and Dad’s and confronted them – funny that.  
_

_It’s not funny, Benedict, you tit. You’re livid as fuck.  The difference is you’re three hours away in Wales, and they’re all in London.  You just can’t march over there and demand an explanation. You need time to compose yourself before confronting any of them.  
_

_But do you really need an explanation?  
_

_You know damn well what went on.  It shouldn’t take all that long to piece it all together and sort it out.  
_

Benedict’s thoughts we interrupted by a knock on the door. 

_That must be the costume assistant coming to collect my costume.  Everyone’s impatient to get home._

“Come!” he called out.

The door opened, and Benedict was surprised to see it was not Louise Martin.  Instead Martin Freeman stuck his head in.

“I thought you were Louise coming around to collect my costume.”

“She’s at Una’s dressing room making the rounds now,” chuckled Martin.  “Sorry to be a bother; but I just got a group text from Sue that the motherfucking shuttle van has a flat.  She’s arranging for cabs; but it might take a while with this fucking weather…so, if your offer of a ride to the train station still stands, Una and I will take you up on it.”

“Of course – I’m ready to go. All I have to do is ring Donna to let her know I’m on my way back to London.”

“Una and I will meet you in reception then with our luggage,” said Martin. 

Benedict finished packing up his shaving kit and sat on the edge of the daybed. He picked up his mobile and hit the speed dial for Donna's mobile. 

 

*********************************************

Donna Saint James walked into Benedict’s lounge to find Wanda and Timothy sitting on the couch.  Both of them looked weary and defeated.

“No luck, I take it?” she asked.

“None whatsoever,” replied Wanda disgustedly.  “The only thing I uncovered was plenty of dust bunnies.”

“Same here, I’m afraid,” added Timothy, suppressing a yawn.  “And you?”

Donna shook her head.  “Nothing!  I looked everywhere!  I turned that bedroom upside down, and all I found were three mismatched pairs of dirty socks underneath the bed and an old script for _Third Star_.”

“Bugger that! Exclaimed Wanda angrily.  “It has to be here somewhere!”

“Well, it isn’t, Commander,” retorted Timothy.  “I’ve done a clean sweep of the lounge to no avail…unless you want to count the bank statement I found underneath the couch.”

“And I thought I knew all of his hiding places,” sighed Donna.  _Like where he hides his porn magazine collection in the spare bedroom._

“We’re just not looking in the right places!” insisted Wanda.  “He’s got to have another hiding place that we’re overlooking.”

“Personally, I don’t think Ben is that secretive,” laughed Timothy. 

“Wait a minute!  It just dawned on me where it might be!” said Wanda excitedly.  “Donna, you and Ben have a safe deposit box together yes?  I bet he stashed it in there!”

“That makes perfect sense,” agreed Timothy.  “You can go get it tomorrow,” he said to Donna.

“That was a good guess; but I was just there on Tuesday; and there are no CD’s inside it.  Just my jewelry and some important papers,” replied Donna.

“Hells bells!” cried Wanda.  “This is so damn frustrating!  It has to be somewhere!”

“But where is the question,” sighed Timothy. 

Donna’s cellphone began to ring from inside her handbag.  She rushed over to the dining area table and extracted it.

“It’s Benedict!  He must be done with filming.”

“Why not ask him where he put the bloody thing?” suggested Timothy.

Donna fixed him with a disbelieving look.  “I can’t do that!  That will open up a whole can of worms!”

“Just taking the piss,” chuckled Timothy.  “Though actually, you could tell him that Wanda needs it to make an addition.”

Wanda poked him in the ribs.  “And then we would all be subject to one of Barrister Ben’s interrogations as to why and what the change was.”

“We could make up something – God knows we’ve all proven to be quite accomplished at that.”

“Shush!” Donna pressed the answer icon.  “Hello, Honey!”

 **_“I just wanted you to know that I’m done with filming.”_ ** _  
_

_No hello.  That was a pretty terse greeting.  He sounds irritated._

“Great!  So, you’re leaving now or do you have to go back to the hotel and check out?”

**_“I’ve already checked out this morning.”  
_ **

“What about your luggage?  Is the hotel storing it?”

She could hear Benedict sigh deeply on the other end as if irritated.

 ** _“My luggage is already in the boot of my car.  We take it with us when we leave._**   **_All I have to do is head out once I drop Una and Martin at the train station.  The shuttle bus has a flat, and they don’t want to miss their train.”  
_**

“How long do you think it’s going to take you to get home?” ** _  
_**

**_“The weather is ghastly here; so figure an extra hour at least.  How’s it in London?”_ **

“Same.  The rain started late morning and hasn’t let up.  There’s the usual road flooding, so please be extra careful.”

**_“I will.  Now, I wish I had minded the weather forecast and taken the fucking train.”  
_ **

“Just take your time, Benedict.  There’s no rush to get home.” _  
_

**_“True.  There really isn’t.”_ ** _  
_

Donna’s mouth dropped open.  _Well, well, usually Benedict would say that he was in a rush to get home to me.  He sounds crabby.  Maybe filming didn’t go well._

“What’s wrong?” whispered Wanda from the couch.

Donna covered the speaker with her hand.  “He seems a little grouchy.”

“I’d be stroppy, too; if I had to drive three plus hours in this shite weather,” commented Timothy. 

**“ _I might stop off for something to eat.  There’s a brilliant chippy on the way.”_**

“Okay, but you might want to save your appetite for dinner.  I made us baked ziti with Bolognese sauce and an apple crostata for dessert.”

**_“I’m not coming to your flat.  I plan to go straight back to Hampstead.”_ **

“I brought it all over this morning and left it in your refrigerator.”

 ** _“I’m_** **_not really in the mood for pasta.  It’s too heavy to be eating that so late.”_**         

“Okay. You can just pop it in the freezer and have it whenever you _are_ in the mood.  I can make us something else – something light - like an omelet and a salad.” ** _  
_**

**_“I don’t fancy anything else, Donna.  I just told you that I’m stopping off to get some fish and chips. ”  
_ **

“Okay.  I’ll see you later. Maybe you’ll be in the mood for a cup of tea.”

**_“Aren’t you doing a restaurant review tonight with your team?”  
_ **

“I was; but since the weather is so awful, everyone asked if I could postpone it. Luckily, I was able to move the reservation to tomorrow night.  Now, you can join us, too.  It will be nice to…”

**_“I’d rather not, if you don’t mind.”  
_ **

“I don’t understand.  You love coming on reviews with me…”

**_“I do.  It’s just…”_ **

“Frederick’s not part of this week’s team, if that’s what you’re worried about.  It’ll be Adam, Alice, James and Hattie.  I thought you’d be thrilled to see them.”

**_“Normally, I would…”_ **

“We’ll discuss it when I see you tonight.  I think you’ll want to try this place.  It’s…”

**_“There’s nothing to discuss, Donna.  I don’t care if you’re going to a five-star Michelin restaurant that serves gold leaf covered dog poo. I’m not in the mood.”_ **

“No one’s forcing you to come to the review.”  _Stay home and eat fucking peanut butter and jelly for all I care, you nasty prick!_ “I’ll see you later.” ** _  
_**

**_“I don’t know how to say this tactfully, so I’m just going to say it:  I don’t want to see you tonight.”  
_ **

_What the fuck has gotten into him?_ “Have I done something to piss you off?  You don’t sound like yourself, Benedict.”

Donna heard a long sigh at the end of the line. ** _  
_**

**_“Sorry.  I really didn’t mean for it to come out like that.  I’m just knackered, and I need some time to be alone and decompress.  I need to shake Sherlock off.  I can still feel him with me.”  
_ **

“I can hear him loud and clear.” ** _  
_**

**_“Again.  I apologize.  All I ask is that you give me some space to become Benedict again.  Besides, the weather’s a fright.  There’s no need for you to come over.  Just stay snug in your flat.”  
_ **

“Alright, but could you at least text me to let me know when you get home safely?” ** _  
_**

**_“Fine.  Well, I’d love to stay and chat more; but I really do need to ring off; so I can get started on my journey.  Cheers.”  
_ **

“I love you, Ben Honey.”

There was silence at the end of the phone.

“Benedict?”

There was silence at the end of the phone.   A dejected-looking Donna sat on one of the dining chairs and stared at the dead phone in her hand.

“What’s wrong?” asked Wanda with concern.

“He’s acting so strange,” replied Donna in a small voice.

“More than normally?” chuckled Timothy.

“Stop teasing, Tim.  Can’t you see she’s upset? What’s wrong, Donna?” persisted Wanda.  “What did Ben say to upset you like this?”

“How can I succinctly sum it up?” Donna put her cellphone away and thought for a moment.  “Your son seems to be in a bad mood and was snotty.  That’s the best way I can describe it – snotty!”

“In what way?” asked Timothy with a frown.

“Well, Benedict basically told me that he didn’t want my food, he didn’t want to go out on tomorrow night’s review and he didn’t want my company.  He told me he doesn’t want to find me in his apartment when he gets home tonight.  I got a ‘cheers’ instead of his usual ‘I love you, Darling’, and he abruptly hung up.”

Wanda and Timothy exchanged concerned glances. 

“Did he give a reason or clue as to why he was feeling stroppy?  Did something go wrong on set?” asked Wanda. 

“He just said he needed time to be alone – to get out of character.”

Wanda and Timothy exchanged glances and nodded.

“I’m not surprised, to be honest,” said Wanda.  “We noticed it when he was filming the pilot and with each subsequent episode.”

Donna scrunched up her nose.  “Exactly what did you notice?”

“That Ben often becomes very much like the character he’s playing.  He's absorbed some of Sherlock’s more unflattering traits if you will,” explained Wanda.  “We’ve noticed that Ben becomes impatient and abrupt, haven’t we, Tim?”

Timothy nodded.  “Absolutely.  His behaviour is akin to Barrister Ben on steroids.  It takes him a little time to get Sherlock out of his system and back to himself.”

“I’ve never noticed it when he’s played other roles,” declared Donna.  “Maybe I’m just not that observant or because I’m not an actor and you both are.  I guess you two would naturally notice the more subtle changes in his behavior...but this time it isn't subtle.  He's nasty and confrontational!”

“Normally, Ben shakes off his characters quickly,” said Wanda.  “But for some reason it takes him longer to completely revert back to Benedict after playing Sherlock.”

“Certain characters get underneath our skin more than others, professionally speaking,” added Timothy.  “I’ve had it happen to me on a couple of occasions.”

“Well, being he’s not going to be home until very late at this rate, why don’t you join us for a treat at Fortnum’s Parlour,” offered Wanda.  “We can have an early supper.”

“Yes, that’s a brilliant suggestion!” interjected Timothy.  “Knickerbocker Glory, here I come!”

Donna smiled at her future father- in-law.  “Thank you!  I’d love to come along. What’s a Knickerbocker Glory, Tim?”

“One of the best ice cream sundae concoctions ever made!” replied Timothy with a grin.  “You have to taste it to believe it!”

“Sounds good to me - I’m always game for ice cream.”

“We can plan our next move whilst we eat,” added Wanda.

Timothy and Donna side-eyed each other and shrugged. 

“We are your loyal foot soldiers, Commander. I’ll go down and warm up the car,” said Timothy.  “There’s a car park close by Fortnum’s.”

 

*******************************************************

 

“You know it might be a good idea to invest in some new shock absorbers, Ben,” suggested Martin as they bumped along the highway towards Cardiff Central Train Station.

“Bloody hell! How would _you_ know about shock absorbers?  You don’t drive,” demanded Benedict with a laugh.

“Amanda does, and we own a Mini-Cooper; so believe it or not, you wanker, I do know something about taking care of a car,” Boasted Martin.  “One doesn’t need to know how to drive to know about proper car maintenance.”

“Pardon me to hell then,” laughed Benedict.  “I had no idea I was chauffeuring fucking Jeremy Clarkson around.”

“I could hold my own on that twat's show,” declared Martin, nose in the air.  “Dolts – like yourself - automatically assume that just because I don’t choose to drive that I know bollocks about cars.  Well, you’re all fucking wrong.  I could run circles around that bastard.”

“But you couldn’t drive the car around the test track,” pointed out Una.

“No, that’s true, Una.  However, I could take Amanda with me; and she could do the driving segment.  Amanda’s an ace driver.”

“This car really does bounce around quite a bit,” observed Una, holding onto the arm rest. “It’s a bloody good thing I don’t suffer from motion sickness.”

“Replacing the shock absorbers would cost more than this car is worth,” said Benedict.

“Why not get a new one then?” asked Martin. "The BBC has been paying us."

“Because this car still has some life left in it; and besides I don’t have the money to buy a new car,” replied Benedict.  “Donna and I are putting our money into renovating our house.”

“You make a left here,” instructed Martin, looking at the portable GPS that Benedict had plugged into the charger meant for the car's cigarette lighter.  “Ah, there it is on the left.  You can drop us off under that overhang so we don’t drown in this downpour.”

Benedict pulled up in front of the station’s drop off area, so Martin and Una could disembark under cover.  Una thanked Benedict again and got out of the car whilst Martin hopped out of the back seat and removed their luggage that had been piled beside him for the ride.

“Sorry you had to ride with the suitcases,” Benedict said to Martin, as he rolled down his window. 

“If I wind up with hip problems, I'm going to sue your bloody arse off," sneered Martin.

Benedict looked alarmed.  "I'm so sorry..."

Martin laughed and patted Benedict's arm. "I was just taking the piss. It was fine. Really. They kept me from sliding around from all the bouncing.”

“You can be such a dick, Martin.”

“And you wouldn't have me any other way. Seriously, you did us a favour by driving us here.  At least we won’t miss our train like some of the others will.”

“Most of the crew lives here in Wales; so they won’t be impacted,” added Una.  “Thank you again, Love!   See you next week!”

Martin slammed the back door shut as he addressed Benedict through his open window.  “Thanks for telling me the story of what happened when you and Donna met at Barbecoa.”

“It did make the trip to the station go by quickly,” said Benedict.

“I really enjoyed hearing about the wandering carafe of water and the flying food – you can’t make that kind of shit up.”

“No, you can’t.”

Martin patted Benedict on the shoulder. “I’ve got to tell you, Mate.  That is quite a story to tell your children and grandchildren about how your parents plotted and schemed.  I never heard of something so elaborate.  The conception and execution was quite brilliant…and your Mum, bless her, is a force to be reckoned with.  I also have to tell you that I never would have put up with such shit from my own.  You are a true saint among men!”

“To know Mum, is to walk in my shoes,” sighed Benedict.  “Donna calls it smother love.”

“Smother love - I like that,” chuckled Martin.  “Well, drive safe.  It’s a brutal night to be on the road.”

Una was waving goodbye to him as she began to roll her suitcase towards the entrance to the ticket hall.

Benedict nodded as he blew them a kiss.  “I will.  Safe travels to you and Una as well.  Cheers.”

 

**************************************************

 

“Mmmm…I’m glad you suggested we get the sampler,” Donna said to Timothy. 

“It’s my favourite thing to have here,” said Timothy.  “We each get to have a savoury tart, some scones and a pot of tea.”

“The spinach, tomato and Gruyere tart was delicious, and they get kudos for serving the scones warm as well,” Donna said.   “How was your salmon and soda bread, Wanda?”

“Delicious as always,” replied Wanda.  She clapped her hands together with delight. “Oh, here come our sundaes!”

The server removed the first sundae from her tray and placed it in front of Wanda.  “Your Dusty Road, Ma’am.”   The next one was for Donna.  “Your Florentine Fancy, Miss.”   The last sundae was in a tall glass and topped with a cap of perfectly golden brown, swirled Italian meringue.  “Your Knickerbocker Glory, Sir.  Enjoy!”

“That I will!” replied Timothy, eagerly picking up his long-handled spoon.  “I’ve been anticipating this moment all bloody day!”

“I think I’ve been looking forward to mine almost as much as you’ve been to yours!” giggled Wanda, winking at Timothy.  “There’s nothing quite like ice cream to cheer you.”

As Wanda and Timothy raised their spoons to dive into their sundaes, they both suddenly paused with spoons in mid-air.

“What’s wrong?” asked Donna.

“Do you fancy taking any photos of these before we tuck in?” inquired Wanda, indicating the sundaes.  “I know you often fancy doing so.”

“Oh, yes!  I want to send them to Carly. We’ve only been here for the afternoon tea in the upstairs Tea Salon,” replied Donna, adjusting the camera settings on her mobile and aiming it at the Knickerbocker Glory.  “This presentation is very impressive.”

“Smile for Donna,” Timothy said to his sundae.  “Here, I think this is your best side,” he said turning the glass slightly.

Donna laughed.  “You’re a very funny man, Tim.” 

“I thought so.”

“Don’t encourage him, Donna!” laughed Wanda.

Donna snapped two photos of each sundae and then two of her own. “So, what’s in the Knickerbocker Glory again?”  Donna pulled out her small notebook and a pen and began to write.

“I thought we weren’t doing a review,” said Wanda with a puzzled expression.

“I decided to do an informal one for myself or if I ever needed material for a column.”

Timothy broke into the meringue and took a bite before replying.  He closed his eyes and savoured the sweet confection.  “This is absolutely sublime, Donna.  You absolutely must taste this.  I won’t take no for an answer.”

“How can I refuse?” Donna dug down into the tall glass with her spoon and tasted his sundae.  “Mmmm…that is yummy.”

“It’s quite simple, really,” said Timothy.  “It’s just vanilla and strawberry ice creams, chunks of pineapple, raspberry sauce, toasted meringue and popping candies.”

“It’s the Italian meringue that makes it,” murmured Donna, scribbling notes.  “It’s a refreshing change from the usual whipped cream.  The popping candies are also a nice surprise.  Okay, you’re up, Wanda. Describe yours for me, please.”

“Mine has coffee and chocolate ice creams, butterscotch and chocolate sauces, Chantilly cream, chocolate flakes and chocolate-covered coffee beans.  Please feel free to try it, Love.”

Donna poked her spoon into Wanda’s and tasted it.  “This is also quite tasty – given I’m not a huge fan of coffee ice cream.  The butterscotch sauce compliments the coffee and chocolate nicely.  Would either of you care to taste mine?”

“Thank you, but no,” replied Timothy.  “However, I’m sure the Commander will want to for research purposes.  Heaven forbid she misses an opportunity to…”

Timothy felt Wanda’s foot nudge his as a warning to shut up.  He and Donna smiled knowingly at each other as Wanda immediately dived into Donna’s Fancy Florentine sundae with gusto.

“I’ve always fancied trying one of these; but then I wind up ordering my tried and true Dusty Road.  Oh!  This is scrumptious,” said Wanda, smacking her lips.  “Shall I review it for you?”

“Go ahead,” encouraged Donna as she took notes.

Wanda took another bite. “There are bits of their milk chocolate Florentine biscuits in the vanilla ice cream.  The caramel sauce is nice and buttery…”

“Is it warm?” interrupted Donna.

“No, it’s room temperature.”

Donna frowned and made a note.

“Is that a bad thing?” asked Timothy in between bites.

“No.  Just a personal preference of mine,” replied Donna.  She picked up her spoon and took a bite.  “What do you think of the hazelnut praline?”

“Nice and crunchy,” replied Wanda.

“They get bonus points for using real whipped cream on their sundaes, not the crap that comes out of a can,” commented Donna, making another note.  “There is nothing worse.  It reminds me of shaving cream.”

“Are you in the habit of ingesting shaving cream?” teased Timothy.

Donna barked out a laugh.  “Hell, no!  This time I was referring to the consistency!” 

_Little does he know that I can personally vouch for the icky consistency AND the awful taste. Though he doesn’t need to know about that one time Benedict and I started fooling around in the bathroom while he was about to start shaving the hair on his ball sack, and I wound up with a mouthful of menthol-tasting soap…it was awful and also put an end to his attempts at 'manscaping' after his knicked himself.  
_

Donna caught Timothy watching her with an amused expression.  A smile was tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

_Damn!  Why did I say that?  Now, he has an idea._

“I think this Florentine Fancy is luscious,” said Wanda through a mouthful of sundae. “I applaud your choice, Donna!  I will definitely order one the next time we come here.”

"I'm glad you approve," smiled Donna.

"This caramel sauce is just brilliant.  You must try it, Tim."

"Then there won't be anything left for Donna if I do.  You've already made a considerable dent in it."

Wanda looked up at her husband, mouth full.

“You might want to leave some for Donna, Commander,” Timothy said gently.  “Your Dusty Road is feeling neglected.”

“Do you want to switch, Wanda?” asked Donna.

“Oh, no!” said Wanda, pushing Donna’s dish back towards her place and returning to her own sundae with enthusiasm.

“Would either of you like my Florentine cookie?” asked Donna, indicating the cookie that topped her sundae.

“Don’t you want it?” asked Wanda incredulously. 

“Nope.  I’m getting full,” replied Donna.

Wanda plucked it off Donna’s sundae and took a bite.  “I must remember to by a tin of these on our way out.”

Timothy set down his spoon and cleared his throat.  “So, Commander, you did say we were going to strategize over supper.  Are you ready to resume making plans for a second assault or do you need more time to finish hoovering up your sundae?”

“I can’t imagine where else he would hide it,” said Donna, taking a sip of water. 

“He definitely said he was going to lock it in his desk,” said Timothy.

“I’m thinking he came home, got distracted with your mother’s ring and just tossed it somewhere,” said Wanda.  “He must have been very anxious to design that setting; so I’m sure that’s the first thing he did when he got in.”

“Sad to say, that sounds like something our Ben would do,” sighed Timothy.

Just then Donna’s cellphone began to ring.  She glanced at the caller ID and sighed.

“It’s Benedict!  That was fast – the weather must have let up.”

“It’s too soon for him to be back in London already,” commented Timothy.  “Even if it stopped raining and the road conditions perfect – he’d still be an hour away.”

“I concur. He must have stopped off at Motorway Services to use the loo,” added Wanda.

“Let’s hope he’s in a better mood,” sighed Donna.  She answered the phone.  “Hi Benedict!”

**_“I’m calling to give you an update on my progress, which is abominable at best.”_ **

“I’ve been worried about you. How are the roads?”

**_“The fucking roads are horrific – the motorway traffic is backed up to hell and back.  I tried going on the back roads, but there’s flooding everywhere.  Visibility is very poor, the rain is torrential and the wind’s contributing by blowing down branches, making some roads impassable.”_ **

Donna covered the mouthpiece.  “He said the roads are terrible.”

“Tell him to get a hotel for the night,” instructed Wanda.  “Then we can go back to his flat and do another sweep for the CD.”

“Maybe you should find a hotel and come home tomorrow,” suggested Donna.  “Hopefully, there will be a hotel or even an inn nearby with a vacancy.”

_“There’s no need. I decided to stop off in Gloucestershire and stay the night at my parents’ country retreat.  I just let myself in.  I plan to make myself a fire and have a bite to eat before going to bed.  I just wanted you to know that I’m safe and sound.”_

Donna covered the mouthpiece.  “He’s safe – he’s going to spend the night at your country home.”

“Brilliant!  Now, we can take our time and do a more thorough search,” whispered Wanda.

“We already did a perfectly proper search,” hissed Timothy.  “How many can we do, Commander?”

“I’m sure we missed something,” insisted Wanda.  “It has to have fallen underneath or behind something!”

“I’m very glad to hear that, Ben Honey.  Now, I’ll be able to sleep knowing you’re dry and in a safe place.  We’ll make plans in the morning to go look at wedding invitations after lunch and...”

**_“Please don’t call me at the crack of dawn. I’ll ring you when I get up tomorrow morning.”_ **

“Okay.”  _Jeez Louise, I really hadn’t planned on doing that!  He’s still crabby, but not as bad as before._ “I’ll come over to your apartment and make us lunch for when you get back…”

**_“Donna, I don’t want you to come to my flat and make me lunch. I don’t wish to go shopping for wedding invitations tomorrow.  I think I already told you that I need to spend some time alone.”_ **

“I just thought that you’d be alone tonight and would want my company.  I miss being with you so much…”

**_“Well, you thought wrong.  I’ll ring you tomorrow.  Sleep well, Donna.  Cheers.”  
_ **

Before Donna could respond, there was silence.  _That bastard hung up on me again without saying he loves me. If he wants to be alone tomorrow, then let him be.  Fuck that shit!  He’s not going to take his bad mood out on me – in Sherlock character or not._

“Fucking cheers to you, too!” sneered Donna as she shoved her cellphone into her handbag.  “You can make your own lunch tomorrow!”

Wanda and Timothy looked concerned, but didn’t say anything.  Timothy pretended to look at the mural above their table, and Wanda studiously scraped the last remnants of the toppings out of her sundae dish.

“The good news is your son is safe and sound, the bad news is that he’s still in Sherlock’s skin,” sighed Donna finally. 

“What did he say?” asked Wanda hesitantly, after casting a wary look at her husband.

“He basically blew me off!  He said that he wants to be alone.”

“Jolly good for us then!  While Greta Garbo is sulking up in Gloucestershire, we can do another full sweep of his flat,” smiled Wanda.  “We’ve got all night now!  We could not have asked for better luck!”

Timothy’s mobile began to ring.  “It’s Mr. Garbo, checking in from the safe house in Gloucestershire, Commander.  Shall I answer it?”

“Of course!” snapped Wanda.

“Maybe he’ll be nicer to you,” quipped Donna.

“I wouldn’t count on it,” scoffed Timothy.

Wanda sighed.  “Benedict can be so unpleasant when he gets in these moods.”

“You should have put moody in your ad that time,” snickered Donna.

"Then no one would have answered it," retorted Wanda.

“Hello, Ben,” answered Timothy.  “Are you back in London yet?”

**_“No, Dad.  The weather’s miserable; so I decided to spend the night at our country retreat rather than brave the roads for another three hours.  It’s taken me three hours just to get here, and I’m just not up to driving the rest of the way. I’m beyond knackered.”_ **

“That was sensible, Ben.  The house has everything you need, except for fresh food.”

“There are plenty of things for him to eat in the freezer,” said Wanda.  “Tell him to help himself.  All he has to do is use the defrost cycle on the microwave, and he’ll have…”

“Your mother said there is food in the freezer.”

**_“Tell Mum thanks.  I’m just looking for something to snack on, as I’m feeling a bit peckish.  I stopped off at a chippy for dinner.”  
_ **

“Shall I put your mother on?”

**_“No! She’ll just prattle on about the contents of the bloody freezer.  I’m frightfully knackered and don’t feel like chatting any more.  I desperately need to be alone.  Sherlock seems to have followed me to Gloucestershire.  I just want to be quiet, relax and do some reading by the fire.  Cheers, Dad.”_ **

Timothy looked at the dead mobile in his hand and shrugged.  “If it makes you feel any better, Donna, he was curt to me as well.”

“It does and it doesn’t,” said Donna.  “I’m detecting a coolness in Benedict.  It’s almost as if he’s trying to distance himself from us - Like he’s pissed off at us.”

Wanda reached out and patted Donna’s hand. “Oh, not to worry, Love,” she said in a soothing tone of voice.  “Don’t try and read into things.  I’m telling you – it’s just that Ben needs to decompress.  I’m sure the long drive if foul weather isn’t helping matters either – you know how impatient he can be on a good day. He’ll be fine by tomorrow.”

“Wanda is right, Donna.  We’ve seen this before and experienced it ourselves as well.  As you can see, the Commander still fancies herself as Colonel Virginia Lake.”

“Oh, stop that, you!” Wanda playfully poked her husband.  “He’s always joking!”

“I wasn’t joking,” snickered Timothy, leaning away from Wanda.

Donna Saint James nodded at her future in-laws and rubbed her hands together.  “Okay, Commander.  Shall we get back to work?” 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Well, Benedict now knows about most of the Plan; and he's confused, hurt and very, very angry. He's also on the wrong track as we all know about meeting Donna at Barbecoa being a set up.
> 
> 2\. There will be a lot of confusion and waffling moving forward as Benedict tries to piece together what happened to his satisfaction. He's going to be on track, then off it...the man is an emotional mess right now. 
> 
> 3\. As I stated before, I had to go back and do a lot of re-reading of past chapters to refresh my memory as to how things actually played out in parts. In future chapters, should I miss anything or the continuity is not quite right; please forgive me. This was not easy to unravel and would have been had I not been lazy and kept better notes...but I didn't. :-(
> 
> 4\. We had the Knickerbocker Glory and Florentine sundaes at Fortnum and Mason, and they were both delicious! I recall we sat at a table right under the Lion mural that's pictured above.
> 
> 5\. So the question still remains - where is that CD?
> 
> 6\. Thank you to all the lovely readers who had left kudos and comments. I truly appreciate it!


	180. Chapter 180

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Benedict spends the night in Gloucestershire and is thrown into an emotional turmoil. Donna, Wanda and Timothy come up empty handed once again, further adding to their distress. 
> 
> Note: I’ll be using *************** for things happening at the same time.

 

Benedict Cumberbatch took a leisurely, lavender-scented hot bath and changed into a pair of cozy, black, white and forest green plaid flannel pajamas and his thick, black sleep socks.  He padded downstairs to find the lounge toasty warm from the fire he had built upon arrival.  As he was stood in front of the fireplace, warming his hands; Benedict’s stomach gurgled, signaling that is was empty.

_I’m feeling a bit more than peckish - Time for a more substantial snack. I think a cheese toasty is in order._

Benedict went into the kitchen where he found that the thick slice of lemon drizzle cake he had taken from the freezer had defrosted.  He opened the freezer and removed two slices of sourdough bread, which he placed on a sheet of paper toweling to defrost.  Inside the refrigerator was a large piece of Cotswold cheddar that was still good. 

_I need butter to fry my toastie in…I don’t see any butter.  Christ, my parents really leave this fridge bare when they return to London, bless them. Hmmm…there’s three different kinds of mustard…salad cream…brown sauce…Branston pickles…horseradish....pickled beets…raspberry jam…strawberry jam…apricot jam…Worcestershire sauce...mayonnaise…ketchup…maple syrup…capers…plenty of condiments._

Benedict stood in front of the open refrigerator door, scratching his head as he pondered his options.

_I suppose I could toast my sarnie underneath the broiler element like Donna does…but she butters the bread after it’s toasted. I still need butter.  I could eat it open-faced and put some of that bacon tomato jam that Mum makes on it; but I don’t see any.  I could toast it in a bit of olive oil, I suppose…no.  That sounds awful.  I could toast the bread in the toaster and then melt the cheese under the broiler.  Nope – none of those options float my boat.  What  I really fancy is to make my cheese toasty in a cast iron pan in butter like Mum makes it._

_Shit.  I hate when I’m craving something and can’t have it.  I suppose I could go out and buy some fucking butter.  You’re such a dolt, Benedict.  This is Gloucestershire – all the shops are closed at this hour.  This isn’t New York where you can always find someplace open.  It’s also still storming out there._

_Oh.  I know!_   _I was looking in the wrong place is all. I bet I know where there will be some butter._

Benedict opened the freezer compartment and found two unopened boxes of frozen butter.

_I almost forgot that Mum likes to buy extra when there’s a sale and freeze it for baking.  I’m sure she won’t mind that I defrosted a stick._

He switched on the small telly that his parents kept in the kitchen as he went about making his cheese toastie and brewing himself a pot of Earl Grey tea.  Benedict then took his ample snack into the lounge where he sat on the couch to enjoy it beside the fire. 

The wind whipped and howled outside, slightly rattling the windows every now and again.  He could hear the rain hitting the windows as the wind shifted to the East as he ate his sandwich. 

_Mmmm…spreading some of the apricot jam on the bread was truly inspired, Benedict.  Well done you.  Hmmm…I do have to give credit to Donna as I nicked the idea from her.  I am a credit to her then. Haha!_

_Donna.  I miss her terribly.  I wish she were sitting here cuddled up beside me, feeding each other bites of sandwich.  I really do want to pick out our wedding invitations tomorrow…but…I can’t get past the fact that she lied to me._

_They all lied to me.  Why?_

_You know the why, Benedict, you tit.  Eat your fucking cheese toastie and concentrate on something else. Have a think tomorrow when your head is clear._

Benedict put down his empty plate and picked up the slice of cake.  He took a large bite and licked the lemon glaze off his fingers.

_God, how I love Mum’s lemon drizzle cake!  She’s a genius baker…and schemer._

_My mother is a first-class schemer.  Who would have thought?_

_I sure as shit didn’t._

_I really should have been able to work it out without having to hear it from Una Stubbs._

_I didn’t though.  I’m such a clueless prat.  Martin would have worked it out.  He must have thought I was a real gullible arse._

_Martin’s forever teasing me that I’m too gullible and easy to screw over.  Hell, he’s taken advantage of me whilst playing cards in between takes._

_I need to stop thinking about this.  I need to get my mind off of what I heard today!  I just want to unwind and feel like myself again.  The bath helped for a while, but those thoughts just keep creeping into my mind._

_But how can I possible think of anything else?  All those fucking lies!  All the plotting!  My mind is whirling with all that information.  I need time to properly sort it all out and decide what to do._

_Hmmmm…but what should I do?  Should I call them and tell them that the game is over and I know everything?_

_Or do I?_

_It’s probably best to confront them in person.  I want to see their faces when I tell them I know all about their motherfucking plan._

_But I don’t want to see Donna’s face._

_You do, Benedict.  You know you do._

_I love her so much.  I don’t want to accept the fact that she was embroiled in the deception.  I won’t. I can’t._

_But she is, Benedict.  You know she is.  You heard it with your own ears.  Donna has lied and deceived you just as badly – if not worse than Mum…and Dad!_

_I can’t get over Dad’s being involved.  Why would he?  He’s always the voice of reason.  How could he let that happen?_

_I can’t marry someone who lied to me like that.  I can’t.  How could I ever trust Donna again?  But I love her.  I want to marry her and have children with her. Jesus Christ…I am so fucking randy at the thought of getting laid – for whatever reason.  I'm going to have to take care of myself later on; but first I'll have to turn those bloody owls around to face the wall._

_Stop thinking with your knob, Benedict – Sex isn’t everything._

_Isn’t it though?  It’s a very important thing in a relationship, and we happen to have a brilliant sex life.  I've never been more satisfied - physically and emotionally._

_What am I going to do if it turns out to be true?_

_The answer is clear as could be:  You can’t marry Donna._

_I don’t want to break our engagement._

_You know that’s the right thing to do._

_I don’t want to think about it just now._

_You know you can’t keep putting the decision off.  You know what happened, and you know why._

_No, I don’t!_

_I  just want to have a wank and then sleep, but I’m not sleepy._

_If I try and pleasure myself, I'll only think of Donna; and I don't fancy doing that right now._

_Perhaps I could watch a bit of telly?  There’s probably nothing on at this hour.  I could listen to some music, but I just did that in the car on the drive over.  I don’t feel like having a read of my book._

Once again, Benedict’s thoughts turned back to Una’s revelation of The Plan.  His mind began to automatically play back the whole conversation.  He felt himself getting aggravated once again as he envisioned his cast mates laughing and thoroughly enjoying the story _._ He could hear Martin’s closing comments to him. Benedict covered his ears with his hands and groaned.

_I need to distract myself with something that hasn’t anything to do with all this shit, and I have just the remedy!_

Benedict got off the couch and went down the hall to the peach room.  There on the desk sat his parents PC.  He booted it up and returned to the lounge to get his messenger bag, which was lying on the bench in the entrance foyer. 

_I remember laughing to myself that I wouldn’t have time to look at this, but nature has seen to it that I do now.  There’s no time like the present to get this over with.  I’m still feeling peckish, so perhaps I’ll have another slice of cake.  Oh, Benedict, you are truly a tart for sweets._

Benedict pulled out the CD that his father had given him that day in the bank when he had also given him his Gran’s ring. 

_I was supposed to look at the contents of this damn CD months ago, but I kept putting it off.  There are things on it that I need to be familiar with in the event of an emergency.   Tonight’s a good a night as any to see just what’s on the bloody thing._

Benedict returned to the peach room with the CD, a second slice of lemon drizzle cake and a fresh beaker of tea.  He stoked the fire with the iron poker, sat at his mother’s desk and inserted the CD marked “Ben” into the CD slot on the hard drive.  It took less than a minute for an index of various folders to appear on the screen.

_Okay…let’s see what’s on here.  I bet there’s probably a copy of their wills and other grim things. Hmmm…it looks like there’s quite a bit of material to peruse. This has to be Mum’s doing as she’s always been the thorough one, bless her._

The first folder was labeled “Craigslist”.  Benedict frowned as he pondered what the contents might be.

_How odd!  Since when did they start running adverts in Craigslist? Maybe they bought and sold stuff? I don’t give a toss about what their transactions were…but why would Mum have such a folder as part of their emergency instructions?_

Benedict took a sip of tea and a bite of the cake.  He sat and savoured the lemony flavour.  

_I love that Mum always uses fresh lemons and not the shit in the plastic bottle that’s shaped like a lemon.  Christ, Benedict, you sound more and more like Donna every day!_

Benedict put his hand on the mouse and moved the cursor over the folder.  He hesitated as he tried to make up his mind as to whether or not he wanted to be bothered opening it.

_Mum obviously wants you to read it, Benedict, or it wouldn’t be on their emergency instructions disc in the first place. I’m sure she must have had a good reason, and the only way you’re going to know is to open the damn thing._

Benedict frowned as he contemplated what the contents might be.  Then he decided to open it as his curiosity had won out.  The folder contained a scanned copy of an invoice for an advert that had been placed with Craigslist.  The invoice was dated January 2009 and was for fifty pounds.  Apparently, the ad had run for thirty days.  The invoice was supposed to be three pages; but Benedict only saw one. 

_I thought Craigslist ads were free…uh…it says there is a fee for this type of advert.  Oh, I know what this is for!  This must have been when they placed the ad for a gardener…I recall discussing it with Dad. It was the night of Emmy’s birthday dinner at their flat.  Dad and I were sat in the lounge after dinner chatting about Mum’s wrath, and he was off his face from those potent margaritas that he had whipped up._

Benedict sat back in the chair and sipped his tea as his memory replayed the conversation between himself and Timothy:

 

 **“Oh, do you think for one blasted minute that I’m afraid of your mother?”**  
**  
****“Yes I do.”**  
  
**“Bollocks!  We have a very open and honest relationship.  We’ve always felt we could tell each other anything.  There was only that one time recently when she placed the ad for a guurrll.”**  
  
**“What ad, Dad?”**  
  
**“The one for that old armoire.”**  
  
**“We don’t have an old armoire.”**  
  
**“Of course we do.  The one in the Glouces-ter-Glowster-shire…the one in the country house.  You know the one.  It’s in the study.  That cabinet where we keep the telly and electronics hidden.  She’s decided to sell it.”**  
  
**“Why would Mum want to sell that?  It’s an antique.  I remember when we found it at the antique shop on Camden Road.  She was beyond thrilled.”**  
  
**“Actually, you’re right.  I think those drinks are affecting my memory.  It was something else she wanted to sell, but I don’t recall what the devil it was.  Anyway, what were we just talking about?”**  
  
**“You started to say something that began with a ‘g’.   Does that jog your memory?”**  
  
**“It wasn’t a ‘g’.  I remember clearly now.  I didn’t start to say anything that began with a ‘g’.** _You_ **must have heard wrong.”**  
  
**“Oh, I definitely heard something that began with a ‘g’.  Not to worry, Dad. I’ll just ask Mum when she comes out.”**  
  
**“On second thought, I believe it was that electric griddle she wanted to sell.  Yes, that’s it.  It was the griddle. I can’t even remember the last time she took it out. She never uses it.”**  
  
**“I doubt it was the griddle. She always uses it to make pancakes and crepes. As a matter of fact, she just used it today to make the blinis for the nibbles tray.”**  
  
**“It had to be the barbeque grill then.  We don’t use it that often.”**  
  
**“We use it all summer, Dad.  Unless she was thinking of getting a new one?”**  
  
**“That was definitely it!  Your mother was thinking that if we got a better one, we’d use it more often. You know how fond she is of a good grilled burger.”**  
  
**“Somehow I just don’t think that was the word.  It sounded more like a person word.”**  
  
**“Person word?  What in blazes are you talking about, Benedict?”**  
  
**“You know – when you put an ad in the paper for a person. Like a plumber or a painter.  Now, what begins with a ‘g’?”**  
  
**“Silly me! I now remember it as clearly as if it were yesterday. Your mother was looking to hire a gardener for Glouces-Glowchester-tershire.  Where ever it is we have the country house.”**

 **“Gloucestershire. And we have a gardener, Dad.  Did Chester quit?”** **  
**  
**“No.  Your mother isn’t happy with the way Chester has been cutting the grass, and you know how she is once she sets her mind to something.”**  
  
**“Oh, yes, I do indeed.”**  
  
**“Well, now that everything’s been sorted to the court’s satisfaction, Barrister Ben, what in the devil were we talking about in the first place?”**  
  
**“How you’re afraid of Mum’s wrath.”**

Benedict smiled to himself as he forked another bite of the cake and washed it down with a mouthful of tea.

_So, it really was a want ad for a gardener.  However, Chester hasn’t been sacked that I know of.  I just saw him the last time I was here.  Now that I think about it, that was such a weird conversation; but to be fair, Dad had had too much to drink that night._

The next sub folder was named ‘Advert for Birds’.

_Blimey!  Mum was looking to sell off some of her stuffed barn owl collection?  I’ll be damned.  I can’t believe that! She loves the fuck out of those wretched things._

Benedict glanced up at the four stuffed barn owls that were stood on the fireplace mantel, staring at him with their gimlet expressions. 

_Well, she didn’t sell these chaps – they’ve always been displayed up there. I wonder which ones Mum wanted to part with. Too bad it wasn’t the ones up in my room.  I noticed they were still there when I was undressing.  Let’s take a look._

He clicked on the file name and up popped another copy of the same invoice, but this one was three pages long. 

_Ah…here’s the missing page._

Benedict scrolled to the second page where it stated that the extra fee was for a personal ad to be run.  He almost choked on his cake as a frightening thought came to him.

_Fuck me!  Could Mum and/or Dad have been looking for someone to…no…I can’t …I won’t allow myself to finish that debauched thought._

_Could my parents be swingers?_

_NO!  Are you mad, Benedict?  The thought of that is absolutely terrifying! Mum and Dad adore the shit out of each other.  They would never get involved in wife or husband swapping!_

_If they didn’t, then why place a personal ad? For fucks sake!  I can’t even wrap my head around the possibility…but if it is true then perhaps Mum means for you to inform their partners should something happen._

_I absolutely do not believe that for one minute. I has to be for something else. They would never, ever do something like that…or would they?_

_Mum and Dad have been known to surprise me in the past – they do enjoy drinking and partying with their friends…hell, Mum and I have enjoyed an occasional spliff together since Dad stopped smoking.  Who’s to say they can’t enjoy a little sexual experimentation in their golden years?_

_I say._

_That’s because you’re a prude deep down inside, Benedict.  You know you are.  You are almost as vanilla as Donna is when it comes to sex._

_I am not!_

_Oh, but you are.  You talk a big fight – you hint at wanting anal, you hint at experimenting with a little light bondage and domination; but have you ever acted on any of your fantasies with Donna?_

_Of course not, you twat!  I’m perfectly happy and satisfied in my comfort zone._

_But Mum and Dad are different.  You’ve found things in their bedroom that were none of your business - things that surprised the shit out of you. That’s what I get for being nosy._

_No, you were being curious, Benedict._

_Who am I fooling?  I'm a right nosy bastard is what I am!_

_I suppose anything is possible, and they are consenting adults._

_Advert for Birds…hmmm…that means they were looking for females.  Jesus Christ – Mum and Dad in a threesome…Dad with another woman and Mum.  I can’t bear to see any more…but I must._

_Fuck it.  You’re an adult, Benedict.  You can handle it. Look at the last page  and get it over with.  It may be nothing or it may be something…_

Benedict scrolled to the third page as a feeling of dread gripped him.  The third page was a copy of the actual personal ad.  However, the advert that was staring Benedict Cumberbatch in the face was not at all what he expected to see:

 

**Daughter-in-law Wanted**

  
  
**Are you tired of traveling life's journey alone?  Are you tired of fruitless searches to find the right man?  Are you ready to reap the rewards of a happy relationship?**  
  
**If you have answered 'yes' to any of these questions, look no further.**  
  
**Mother seeks mate for handsome 32-yr. old son, who is intelligent and kind-hearted.  Hard working, yet fun-loving.  Harrow-educated, with University and Masters degrees.**  
  
**Looking for an attractive, non-smoking female, 25-35, with a zest for life. The right candidate must be friendly and outgoing with a strong sense of family values.  University degree or higher required. Good listening and conversational skills essential. Good manners and sense of humor necessary. Interest in music, literature and the arts helpful. Competency at maintaining a household. Willingness to bear children. Cookery skills a plus.**  
  
**You will have nothing to lose by contacting me.  What you may gain is the perfect partner to travel through life with!**  
  
**Send resume and photo to WNDAVC@gmail.uk**

 

The feeling of dread that Benedict was experiencing was immediately replaced by one of anger as he felt his jaw automatically clench.

_For fucks sake! This is the bloody advert Una was talking about! I can’t believe Mum was cheeky enough to actually save the invoice and her advert!  I have a strong feeling this is not the disc I was meant to have. Thank you, Dad.  Your blunder is my windfall.  All afternoon I kept wondering exactly what was contained in the blasted ad and now here it is in black and white._

Benedict pulled at his chin and stared at the screen in disbelief as he read it over again.  He felt his anger quickly turn to rage by the third time he had read it and slammed his fist on the desk, causing the hot tea to slosh out of the beaker and onto the polished wood.  However, Benedict did not notice it.  He was too consumed with anger as all sorts of thoughts began to race through his mind at breakneck speed.

_Jesus fucking Christ on a crutch!  This really is the ad Una was talking about – this is the motherfucking ad she helped Mum compose!  This is the advert that Mum ran on Craigslist for a wife for me!  I’m seeing it, and I don’t want to believe it. Of all the motherfucking bollocks!_

_Then this means that this is the ad that Donna answered…_

_…and then they hatched the scheme – no –what in the fuck did they call the blasted thing?  Oh, yes - The Plan.  And then The Plan to Deceive Benedict was born.  Was Donna in on it from the start or did Mum and Dad conceive their cocked up plan and Donna just followed their instructions?_

_But was it a cocked up plan, Benedict?  It got you a wife, didn’t it?_

_She’s not my wife yet._

_You can’t deny that the advert and The Plan served their purposes. Be honest - they were a rousing success..._

_At the expense of the three of them living a lie that they seemed prepared to live for the rest of their lives - A lie that I was blissfully caught up in and totally unaware of being embroiled in – until today.  Thank you, Una._

_I am so fucking livid right now, I could just scream! Mum is so lucky that she’s not here…and Dad for that matter. I could figuratively wipe the floor with them both!  How dare they pull such a stunt?_

_And to think that all this time Donna went along with them!  She was a willing participant in their elaborate scheme! I can’t believe that Donna is alright with maintaining this lie for the rest of her life._

_Can you blame her, Benedict?  It got her a husband._

_I’m not her husband yet!_

Benedict glanced down at the cake plate.  He had not been aware that he had been squeezing what was left of the slice of lemon drizzle cake into crumbs. 

_Christ, I don’t even remember doing that.  Interesting how anger can manifest itself._

He wiped the spilt tea off the desk with a paper serviette and brushed the crumbs from his hand onto the plate.  He violently shoved it away with a grunt of frustration and barely caught the plate as almost fell off the desk. 

 _Well done you, Benedict.  You still have brilliant reflexes. Mum would have been right miffed had she found out I broke one of her prized jumble sale dishes in a fit of temper._  

Benedict ran his hand through his hair and drummed his long fingers on the edge of the desk whilst trying to compose himself.

_I could get myself another slice of cake. I thought I saw a pound cake in the freezer as well…and rum raisin ice cream.  That might make a tasty combination._

As Benedict began to get up, he realized that what he had already eaten sat in an uncomfortable lump inside his stomach.  His head began to pound as he sat back down and massaged his temples.  He could also feel the acid starting to backup inside his throat.

_Since I’m no longer feeling peckish, I might as well continue to read what’s in these remaining folders. Who knows what other gems I’ll uncover?_

The next folder contained all fifty-seven email responses that Wanda had received to her ad.   Benedict quickly skimmed them all until two names jumped out at him:  Jessica DeHaviland and Samantha Alden-Thomas.  Benedict read each one of their responses and CVs carefully and heaved a great sigh of disgust.

_Hmmm…I can see why Mum thought I might fancy them – Jessica with her theatre background and artsy interests; and Samantha was drop-dead gorgeous, intelligent and driven. I like how Mum ranked them Bird#1 and Bird#2.  No, that can’t be right.  Donna was the top contender for the role of my wife. Mum must have been marking off her top three favourites.  Now, as for the third…_

_You know you don’t even have to look for confirmation, Benedict.  You know damn fucking well who Bird#3 is.  Why are you unnecessarily torturing yourself?_

_Because I’m a motherfucking glutton for punishment is what I am!_

Benedict furiously scrolled through the remainder of the emails until the email address that he was most familiar with popped out at him. 

_God Damn Her!  How I didn’t want this to be true!!!  Why????_

_Stop deluding yourself, Benedict.  You know why._

Benedict pounded his left fist angrily on the desk as he read the email from DMSaintJames@aol.com:

 

 **Dear WNDAVC:**  
  
**I would very much like to meet the woman behind such a creative and intriguing ad. Not only do I wish to learn more about your son, but you as well. Please contact me so we can set up a mutually convenient time to meet. I will be happy to answer any questions you may have at that time.**  
  
**Looking forward to your reply.**  
  
**Regards,**  
**Donna Saint James**

 

There was a head shot of Donna attached to the email that he had never seen before.

_This must be the photo Donna’s wanker editor insisted she take for her column that she refuses to use.  It’s a lovely photo.  Maybe one day she’ll give in and use it._

_Where’s Donna’s CV?  All she sent Mum was her photo? It certainly appears that way.  That was very cheeky of my fiancée, bless her._

Benedict looked at the date of Donna’s email.  It was dated three weeks prior to their meeting at Barbecoa.

_Well, Sweetheart, I suppose three weeks was more than sufficient time to get your part properly sorted out and rehearsed.  You really are a credit to your drama teacher.  Well done you - You had me utterly fooled._

_So you were fooled, Benedict. Is it worth pushing the woman you love away?_

_But she lied to me all this time and continues to do so!_

_What are you going to do about it then?_

_Break off the engagement for starters – no matter how painful it’s going to be._

_And what of your parents?  What are you going to do about them?  They conceived this whole bloody scheme…well, it was Mum’s brainchild; but Dad apparently joined forces with her._

_I’ll just tell Mum and Dad that …hmmm…it’s a true pity that one can’t break up with one’s parents._

_Stop that, Benedict.  You know damn well that you don’t fancy cutting ties with them completely…_

_But, I’m not at all happy about this.  I can’t be around either of them right now.  I’ll distance myself from them for a while._

_I swear that I will never, ever tell my parents if I’m dating anyone.  I’ll send them a marriage announcement once the deed is done at the Registrar’s office.  Who needs a big, splashy wedding with all the trimmings in the first place?_

_You do, you arse._

_That’s assuming I ever find someone I want to marry again.  I was so blessed to have found Donna – in spite of her wanker parents.  It will be very hard to replace her in my heart and soul._

_Oh, Benedict, you know that will be impossible, you tit.  Donna is the love of your life.  She nourishes your soul in ways Olivia couldn’t – wouldn’t._

_Donna’s so supportive of me…she accepts my faults and somehow just being with her makes me a better person.  She completes me, and I would feel a tremendous void in my life were she not in it._

_Okay.  I won’t call off the engagement until I give myself time to mull this over and hear what she has to say. I’ll just keep my distance for now._

_Good.  I didn’t really want to break our engagement in the first place.  That was my temper talking…and talk it does. Shit._

_So, what are you going to do, Benedict?_

_I’ll confront them of course.  I want to hear their reasoning from their lips. I want to see their body language._

_Then what will you do?  You already have a good idea as to what they’re going to say and do:_

_Mum will cry and beg forgiveness on the grounds that she was only doing it out of love for you and Dad…and her own jealousy about not having grandchildren from me for her and Dad to lavish their affections on, which she’ll never admit.  She’ll plead that it is of prime importance that I produce an heir to carry on the Cumberbatch name. Thank you for mentioning Mum’s reasons for starting this folly in the first place, Una.  That advert was partially self-serving, Mum._

_Dad will pace around the room as he always does and try to avoid looking me in the eye.  He’ll waffle and say that he was only going along to keep an eye on Mum so that she didn’t go completely over-the-top. Well, she did; and you were a splendid co-conspirator._

_Donna will cry as well, and I bet she’ll plead innocence – but the truth is she really did answer a personal ad, which I now know to be Mum’s._

_Or was it?  Think, Benedict, think.  You and Donna had a talk about dating a few months ago and personal ads._

Benedict got up and began to pace around the room.  His mind was reeling with past conversations.  He came to stand at the window that over-looked the garden.  There was nothing to see in the dark except the rain sheeting down the window, and his reflection staring back at him.  He looked as if he had been sucker-punched in the stomach. 

_How pathetic I look._

_Okay, Benedict.  Perhaps Donna was just an unwitting pawn in Mum’s scheme._

_Or was she?_

_Wait a minute…That had to be what Donna has been trying to tell me for the past several months!  That it was Mum’s ad that she answered – I remember when she told me she had answered a personal ad.  She wanted to tell me about The Plan, and I kept stopping her because there were certain things I wanted to keep private about my own past!!!_

_To be fair, Benedict, It might not be that after all, and the only way you will ever find out is to ask her._

Benedict went over to the fireplace and poked at the logs.  His mind was racing as he kept trying to frantically piece things together from what he knew.  Then he plopped down on the couch and hugged one of the throw pillows as his mind went back to the day he was moving into his flat in Hampstead.

He had been temporarily staying in Kensington whilst the sale of his flat went through.  That morning he had gotten up expecting a fry-up for breakfast but instead he had found Wanda hard at work in the lounge on the computer:

 

 _ **"What are you up to?  I could hear you typing all the way down the hall. You rarely touch the computer."**_    ** _  
_**  
His mother had quickly swiveled around in the chair to face him.  She glanced nervously at the desk drawer to make sure that it was completely shut. 

_I remember Mum was not happy to see me, as I had interrupted her work. She apparently had been expecting me to sleep later._

_**"Just catching up on my email.”** _ **** ****  
  
_"Hmmm. I think you don't want me to see what you're doing, Mum. That's how I used to react whenever you or Dad came across me doing something I didn't want you to see."_  
  
_"Oh, for God's sake, Benedict, don't be silly!  I have nothing to hide. I thought you were meeting Adam?"_

 _Oh, but you were, Mum.  You were working on The Plan._  
**  
****"I am, but not until half past blackbird, as we say in bird clock. You're not looking at pictures of naked men again, are you? I promise not to tell Dad.  Cross my heart."**  
  
**"Oh, for fuck's sake!  You've a memory like an elephant.  There was nothing unwholesome about it.  I was just reading an article on the Olympic men's swim team that time - they weren't naked! They were wearing Speedos."**  
  
**"Oh, I'm not so sure about that, Mother.  I don't recall seeing swimsuits. I definitely recall seeing willies. And I know willies when I see them."**  
  
**"Well, since you're hell bent on taking a trip down memory lane, why is it that whenever we're in the country I find my barn owl collection all facing the wall?"**

 _I have to give Mum credit – she’s good with the zingers, bless her.  She knows I always turned those blasted barn owls around whenever I wanted to have a wank._ **  
**  
**"Haven't a clue.  Must be the cleaning woman."**  
  
**"I don't have a cleaning woman."**  
  
He recalled them starting each other down and trying to suppress their laughter. **  
**  
_"Stalemate?"_ Benedict had offered with a grin. **  
**  
_"Agreed,"_ said Wanda, smiling up at him.  
**_  
_**Benedict noted Wanda had turned to make sure the screen saver was on.  Then she picked up her empty coffee mug and started to walk towards the kitchen with an uneasy air.  
**_  
_**_Mum really didn't want me to know what she was doing, and now I know why. I recall being rather persistent as she was turned to go into the kitchen, trying to act all nonchalant when she probably wanted to shove me out the bloody door!_

_**"So, what are you really doing on the computer?"** _

Wanda had halted and turned around with an annoyed expression.  **  
**  
_"If you must know, I'm thinking of writing my memoirs.  Satisfied?"_  
  
_And that was the first mention of the fictitious memoirs.  How gullible I was._ _Blimey, I was actually excited for her about the prospect!_ **  
**  
**"Not entirely.  This is news to me.  How long has this been in the works?"**  
  
**"We're only in the discussion stage right now."**  
  
**"What does Dad think?"**  
  
**"He doesn't know.  I want to wait and see what happens.  If it comes to fruition, then I'll tell him.  I thought it would make a nice surprise."**  
  
Benedict had indicated the desk drawer with his chin.   **  
**  
_"Are those notes on the book that you put away?  If so, I'd love to read them."_  
  
_"Nope.  Just some new recipes that I want to try. That's enough for one day, Barrister Ben. Sorry to disappoint you, but I've nothing scandalous to hide.  Now come and have some breakfast before you leave.  I'll make you a fry-up."_  
  
_OH, Mum.  You had quite a bit to hide.  All the evidence was in that drawer. I remember the afternoon I had gone back to their flat to leave their anniversary gift and picked the lock to find the drawer was empty.  That’s when Mum probably put everything on this CD for safe keeping.  Well, Mum, that back fired on you._

 

Next, Benedict’s mind traveled back to the time he was sat at his mother’s desk in Kensington and was about to search for film schedules online on the PC.  Wanda had forgotten to close out her email, and Benedict had been extremely chuffed to see her inbox looming large on the screen.  His eyes had been drawn to what was an email response from Donna that had been up on the screen:

  
**"Hey, Mum? Did you get a new email address? WNDAVC? How come you didn't tell me? Is it for your secret boyfriends?"** **  
**  
**"It's a correspondence pertaining to my memoirs."**  
  
**"You're being awfully mysterious, Mum."**  
  
**"And you're being awfully cheeky!"**  
  
**"I'm not being cheeky. I call it being curious!"**  
  
**"I call it being nosy.  This isn't the first time I've caught you reading my emails."**  
  
**"And I've caught you reading mine."**  
  
The two of them had locked eyes and neither of them had said a word.  
Benedict crossed his long legs, leaned back and steeped his hands underneath his chin.  
**  
****"Who's Donna Saint James?"**  
  
**"She's my literary agent."**  
  
**"Did she offer you a book deal, then? Did I catch you and Dad celebrating? Ooh, would you mind terribly if I read it? I'll keep it to myself! Promise."**

_I always thought that was odd; but then later on I convinced myself that Mum had probably hired Donna to be her ghost writer being she was a writer…but why tell me she was her literary agent?  I kept thinking that she wanted to throw me off the scent and one day they would both surprise me. Especially after Donna and I had gotten together. How wrong I was!  That’s what happens when I get distracted.  I was too caught up with the move and my work.  It didn’t click the night I met Donna, either.  Too much time had passed by then._

Benedict recalled that he had turned to start reading Donna’s email before Wanda could answer.  Then he saw Wanda bring her foot down intentionally on the computer cord out of the corner of his eye, and the computer powered off. **  
**  
_For fuck's sake! I remember thinking that Mum did that on purpose at the time because she didn't want me reading the email!  It was done on purpose to keep me from reading Donna’s email. I bet Mum saved it in one of those folders!_

 **"Oops! I'm so clumsy sometimes! Be a love and plug that back in, Ben?"** ****  
  
_So, that was the epitome of bullshit, Mum.  You’re not clumsy at all.  I know a set up when I see one. Donna had sent you an email; and you made sure I didn’t get to read it.  You fed me that lame excuse about Donna being your literary agent. For fucks sake!  I can’t believe I am that clueless and dense!_

Benedict got up and went to the lounge to pour himself a tumbler full of whiskey to bring back to the peach room.  He once again sat at the desk and took a healthy sip. The heady, amber-coloured liquid burned his throat going down.  

_Let’s see what else is on this CD._

Benedict spent the next couple of hours perusing the various folders.  One contained all of the email correspondence between his mother and the potential candidates.  The folder labeled “Interviews” contained Wanda’s amazingly detailed notes regarding her impressions of each woman that she had interviewed.  There were also notes containing his father’s comments whilst eavesdropping on the conversations as well.  However, there was nothing on Donna, Jessica or Samantha.

Then Benedict came across a folder labeled “Top 3 Birds”. 

_And this must be the interview notes I’ve been searching for.  I bet this will be quite the treat._

This folder contained considerably more detailed information on Wanda’s interviews with Jessica DeHaviland, Samantha Alden Thomas and Donna Saint James.   Benedict noted that they all took place on the same day.

_Jesus fucking Christ!  So, Mum was interviewing Jessica over breakfast the day Jimmy and I went to Lauduree for macarons…I’d love to hear Mum explain her way out of that one.  She’d probably say Jessica was her Ghost Writer because her CV said she was working on a book._

Benedict read over his mother’s interview notes from Jessica DeHaviland’s interview.  He read the comments out loud:

“Dresses like Ben.  Looked like a bloody rainbow, so uncoordinated…what in the fuck is that supposed to mean, Mum?  I think I’m terribly wounded!   What’s wrong with the way I dress?  Hmmmm….she ordered everything off the menu as if it were her last meal and eats like a pig.  Said:  I'd die if anyone found out I had stooped this low to find a man.  I guess your son feels the same way, otherwise why would he have his mother try and find him a wife?"

_Yes, Jessica, indeed - why would I? Little did you know that Mum did not have my blessing to conduct such a search. Ah ha!  That explains the weird conversation Jessica and I had in the greeting card store.  She automatically assumed that I had gone along with Mum’s scheme to find me a wife._

Benedict thought back to the afternoon in the card store when he had bumped into Jessica DeHaviland:

 

**“How exactly did you and Mum become acquainted, Jessica? Which film set did you meet on? Or was it a stage play or television programme?”**

**“Oh, heavens no! It was nothing like that. We met at the end of this past winter when she was helping you to find a wife.”**

Benedict blinked uncomprehendingly and nearly dropped the card he was holding as alarm bells began to go off inside his head.

_Crumpets!  I remember thinking that Mum was perpetually helping me to find a wife until I told her about Donna and Jessica was one of her prospects, which she was. I just didn’t know the circumstances surrounding it._

**“I see,”** was all that Benedict could manage to say.

**“At first, I thought you two were completely crackers to embark on such a wacky quest.”**

_Oh, Jessica, Mum embarked alone on this particular voyage to bird-land._

**“… but then once we started chatting, I thought to myself: Jessica, this woman’s son must truly trust and respect her judgement without reservation if he’s allowing her to help him find a wife. He must be a very special chap.”**

_I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I thought Mum had finally given up after that row we had, which spawned The Plan._

**“It’s a rare thing to come across a mother who cares so much about her son’s happiness that she would lend him a hand in his search for the right person. You’re a lucky man, Benedict.”**

_Oh yes, I am so, so, so motherfucking lucky, I could spit!_  

**“Yes, I’m truly blessed. It’s an embarrassment of riches, actually.”**

_I was embarrassed alright. I was mortified.  I couldn’t believe that Mum had gone behind my back again!_

**“It’s also speaks volumes about you that you were able to put all your faith in Wanda to find you a mate. How unusual it is to come across such a loving and trusting mother-son relationship. I want to have a good cry just thinking about it, so touching it is!”** sniffed Jessica.

_I wanted to have a good cry myself at the time. I should have known Mum would never cease going behind my back until I found someone. I was lulled into believing that things finally got sorted out with the advent of Donna in my life, bless her.  Little did I know that Donna was wrapped up in The Plot…Plan – whatever the fuck it is!!!  LIE!  That’s what it is!_

**“If only my own mum were like Wanda!”**

_I’m still willing to trade. She really had Mum up on a pedestal._

**“Mum is quite an extraordinary lady. So, how did you make the connection between me and my mother? Mum uses her maiden name for her stage name, and I use our family surname.”**

**“As soon as I saw you today, I knew you were Wanda’s son. You look exactly the same in person as in the photo she showed me.”**

_That explains why Jessica was staring at me during the auditions. I was so sure that happened during the period when Mum was busy showing my headshots all around London to anyone who would be fool enough to look at them._

**“Benedict, can I ask where you got your headshots done?”**

**“I have a close friend who is a professional photographer, Tertius Bune.”**

**“Can I have his number?”**

**“Unfortunately, he’s currently based in New York. He photographed me when he was back here on holiday last Christmas.”**

**“That’s a shame. I recall when your mum took out yours; I was so impressed with the quality of the actual photo. I like that your friend didn’t airbrush you to try and make you look like a handsome matinee idol if you know what I mean.”**

**“Erm…I’m not sure that I do.”**

**“Well, photographers are known to touch up actors’ headshots in order to make them look much better than they do in reality. I respect your decision not to do that.”**

_I wanted to deck the twat right there.  What bollocks she had!_

**“Thanks for the compliment. “You do wonders for a guy’s ego.”**

**“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to insult you or Wanda before…this hasn’t been my day it seems.”**

**“Forgive my sharp tongue. It’s been a long day. On reflection, I’m sure you didn’t mean it the way it came out.”**

**“It’s just that…well, you’re obviously aware of what you look like.”**

_On second thought – I should have decked her; but I was raised to always be the gentleman.  I’m a credit to Mum and Dad._

**“I’m painfully aware of what I look like. Erm…could I ask** _**you** _ **a personal question, Jessica?”**

**“Oh, oh! I know what you’re going to ask me, too. I won’t lie, Benedict. I’ve had a lot of cosmetic surgery. I’ve had my nose done, I’ve had botox…”**

**“No. That’s not at all what I was going to ask. I was going to ask why you used a much higher pitched voice during the audition.”**

**“Oh, that’s an easy one! When I was preparing for the first audition, my agent suggested I use a higher-pitched voice since Helen was a young ingénue. The director and casting director were pleased with the result and suggested that I use it if I were called back.”**

_She really does have a sultry voice._

**“You are very lucky to have a mother who’s so eager to help you out like that, Benedict.”**

_Eager? That was a gross understatement._

**“Not many mothers would do that for their child.”**

_I was hard-pressed to come up with any other but mine._  

**“The child would certainly consider it meddling in their affairs and resent it.”**

_And I assure you that this child did – not that it ever did any good. Mum just blatantly ignored my wishes and went full steam ahead, which is why Dad dubbed her the Wanda Express. Mum is a first-class meddler._ _Always has been and always will be, bless her._

**“But you’re different, Benedict. You saw that your love life was going no where…”**

_I did? Yeah, it was and I did; but the last thing I would do is to ask Mum to help me find a date or a life partner._   _She just took it upon herself to make Disney magic for me.  Christ, I sounded just like Donna._

**“…and you were mature enough to see that your mother could be a useful tool when it came to your quest for the perfect mate. Before I met Lenny at an audition, I was just like you…”**

_She made me sound so bloody pathetic._

**“…not being able to find the right person. Busy trying to find acting jobs whilst trying to make time to have a social life as well, and somehow always managing to attract the nuts.”**

**“Well, my luck has changed radically since then,”** Benedict had informed her with a smug smile. **“I’m in a serious relationship and on the verge of getting engaged.”**

**“Oh, that’s wonderful news! So, how many women did it take until Wanda found the right one?”**

_**Fifty-seven.  Too bad I didn’t know that little statistic then.** _

**“None. I met my girlfriend without any med…help from my mother. It was one of those chance meetings that often happens in life.”**

**“Oh, that’s so funny! After all the time and work she put into it!”**

_I figured Mum must have confided in her how hard it was to find a bird for me. At the time I assumed Mum ran into her one day, and they got to talking. Mum is known to start up a conversation with anyone – especially with an attractive bird like Jessica._

**“Would you like to see a photo that was taken the day we met?”**

**“Yes, I would.”**

Jessica removed her mobile from her handbag and scrolled through her photos.

**“Okay…here we are! This is the better of the two. For some reason your mother looks angry in the first one, but the nice man sitting at the table next to us offered to take another one.”**

Benedict had intently studied the photograph of Wanda sitting at a small table in what appeared to be a restaurant. The restaurant had looked familiar to him, but he couldn’t place it.

_It was the Lauduree that’s adjacent to Harrod’s, and the nice man was Dad._

Jessica was squatting beside Wanda, their heads leaning together, as they smiled for the camera. Benedict noticed that Jessica’s hair was a lot longer, and she was dressed in a garish outfit.

_She did look like a motherfucking rainbow, not to mention how wrinkled her clothes look!_

**“Don’t you think your mum looks glamourous in this one? That’s what I meant by the more stylish large size designer clothes.”**

_I happened to be with Mum when she bought that suit, and designer it was not. Hahaha!_

**“My dad was completely over the moon when I showed him the photos. He couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that I had been interviewed by** _**the** _ **Wanda Ventham. He was also thrilled when I gave him her autograph and note.”**

Unfortunately, Benedict didn’t hear everything that Jessica had been saying. His attention had been captured by the reflection of the photographer that was in the mirror on the wall directly behind the two women. The nice man who Jessica described was none other than his father, Timothy Carlton.

_I remembered being gob-smacked to see it was Dad taking their photo! I kept wondering why was dad sitting at the next table, and why didn’t Jessica know they were together? Normally, Mum would have introduced Dad to her. Jessica specifically said she and Mum were sitting together. At the time I assumed that Mum met her and invited her to have a coffee. I also assumed that Dad showed up after the fact and then did the same at the Orangery when Mum had tea with Donna.  Now, I know that Dad was sitting separately on purpose._

Benedict shook his head and continued reading aloud from Wanda’s notes:

“She confessed to having a nose job and teeth whitening.  Said that Benedict wasn’t that good looking, but asked if he were a working actor.  We sensed she was looking for someone to support her. Tim and I both agreed that all of her answers seemed rehearsed.  Not particularly bright.  She kept referring to the NDA as the DNA.”

_Hahahahaha!  DNA!  That’s hilarious.  Wait a minute.  She was asking Dennis about NDAs right around the same time.  Jesus Christ!  I thought it had to do with the memoirs!  At the time, I assumed Jessica was going to be Mum’s ghost writer._

Then Benedict read the notes on Jessica’s focus on Wanda and the antics between herself, Jessica and Timothy.  He laughed so hard that tears came to his eyes.

_Oh the story behind that photograph was so fucking funny!  I can just picture Mum and Dad doing all that.  However, I’m getting sidetracked from the root of the problem.  On to the next woman...candidate._

Benedict read over the interview notes from Samantha Alden-Thomas and nearly spit out his mouthful of whiskey.

_This took place whilst I was having lunch with John Grant at Quince!  I saw the whole bloody thing.  Oh, this is both hilarious and infuriating at the same time - Literary Agent, my arse._

Benedict read Wanda’s notes out loud:  

“Then the twat said : Your son isn't very good looking, is he? Rather like a horse – such a long face. The eyes are creepy, too – almost preternatural-looking. He should consider fixing those teeth. The lips are very odd...how can I put this? Are those tattoos or does he wear makeup? There's something rather unnatural-looking about your son. He's just not my cup of tea – no offense!"

_Ms. Alden-Thomas or whatever her married name is now is quite a cheeky little cunt. I can’t believe I’m reading such bollocks.  The bitch was worried about having to support me. What cheek! And her snarky comments about my appearance!  Horse face? I should introduce her to Neil – that bastard said the same thing about my face in his blog. Creepy, preternatural eyes? Okay I do have one eye that goes a bit wonky when I’m beyond knackered. My teeth were fixed, you twat!   She can suck my dick…oh, I bet she doesn’t fancy oral sex.  Odd lips?  Makeup?  She can go fuck off is what she can do!  No wonder Mum went into such a strop and upended the table._

_Oh, what I’d give to conduct a little interview of my own with them.  I know where to find them.  Jessica will be present at the After the Dance rehearsals, and Samantha is the General Manager of The May Fair._

Benedict finally clicked on the notes for Donna’s interview, which was held at the Kensington Palace Orangery.

_I now have the missing piece of the puzzle – this interview was conducted at The Orangery over afternoon tea the same day.  This explains much.  Mum and Dad were certainly busy that day going all over town._

Benedict nearly fell off the chair from laughing so hard after reading about the mishaps that had occurred to his parents courtesy of Donna’s klutziness during the tea service. Then he read out loud from Wanda’s notes:

“My first impression of Donna Saint James was:  clumsy dolly bird.  However, after a rocky start, which I have detailed above; we found her to be utterly charming, intelligent and witty.  Finally, she brought forth her CV.  We were surprised to find out that not only was she a food critic but also an accomplished cook (Cordon Bleu-trained).   I know for a fact that Ben reads her column; so he’ll be familiar with her.  She did display a certain amount of grace and possesses good fashion sense, which will be helpful in Ben’s case.”

 _Again with taking the piss about the way I dress!_   

“During the course of our tea, we discovered that Miss Saint James shares many of the same values and morals as we do. She’s an avid reader and is interested in the arts as well as politics and current events, so they’ll have a lot in common.  Intellectually, she’s the best match for our Ben.”

_How very lovely that Mum and Dad felt Donna earned the Cumberbatch Seal of Approval, bless them._

“She also yearns to find the right man to marry and have a family with, so we are all onboard.  I just didn’t tell her Ben was an actor.  I said he worked for the BBC, which wasn’t a complete fib.”

_What’s one more lie, Mother?  Lie upon lie upon lie.  For fucks sake! She didn’t want Donna to know that I was an actor._

“I said this only because she had talked about her prior unpleasant experiences dating actors.  Her mother is a lawyer; and her father turns out to be a film critic for the New York Times.  What luck!  Wouldn’t that be wonderful for Ben to have a powerful film critic in his corner!”

Benedict gave a bitter laugh.  _Oh, wouldn’t it just? Mum hadn’t a clue her father was the notorious Neil Saint James at the time, who has a hard-on for me._

“The only major concern is that she’s American.  What if she and Ben were to get together?  Tim and I would be absolutely crushed if she were to convince him to live in the States.  She said that her work brought her to London, and she has been here for the past six months.  What happens once her work visa expires?  I won’t worry about that just yet.  We need to get them together first.”

_No worries on that front, Mum.  Where we’re going to live has already been sorted – that is if I can find it in my heart to forgive Donna for being a part of this fuckery.  I’m so torn between being angry at her and wanting to carry on as if nothing happened. How can I find it in my heart to forgive them?_

_Let’s see what else Mum had to say._

“When I asked her why she was answering a personal ad in the first place, Donna claimed that she’s been consumed by work, so she has little free time and that it has been a challenge to meet someone decent.  She said one night after yet another date gone wrong, she found herself looking at the personal ads in Craigslist rather than a Chef.  Donna said my advert caught her attention immediately because it was very cleverly worded."

_Everyone loves Mum and Una’s wording, bless their creativity. There’s something terribly familiar about this…_

“My only regret is not having a photo of Ben to show her.  I must have left it at home; but I’ll just email one to her when I get home.”

Benedict spent the next several hours reading over all the email correspondence between his mother and Donna that thus ensued after the interview right up until the day he had prepared dinner for her at his flat in Hampstead.  That was where everything came to a sudden halt. 

The flutter of birdsong filled the cottage, momentarily startling Benedict.  He glanced at the computer’s clock and yawned when he saw it was two in the morning.

_Christ, its cuckoo time already…in more ways than one.  I really need to sleep on this.  My mind is just a jumble of mixed emotions right now.  I also have to drive back down to London tomorrow.  I really need to talk to someone who can help me sort this out._

_Normally, it would be Donna who I’d go to; but she’s part of the problem. My backup would be Dad, but he’s also part of the problem._

_Adam.  He’s my best friend and a great listener.  I’ll call him in the morning._

 

***************************************************

 

It was two in the morning as the final search came to a halt in Benedict’s flat in Hampstead.   Donna, Wanda and Timothy all sat on the couch yawning.

“Hells bells!  Again, we found nothing!” exclaimed a disappointed Wanda. 

“We could not have searched the place more thoroughly, Wanda,” added Donna, stifling another yawn.

“Agreed,” said Timothy.  “The fucking thing just isn’t anywhere to be found.”

“Which can only mean one thing,” sighed Wanda. 

Donna and Timothy both stared at Wanda, who was sitting in between them.

“And what is that, Commander?” asked Timothy with a smirk. 

“It’s not here,” replied Wanda.

“I think that’s obvious,” snorted Timothy. 

“I bet he dropped it somewhere,” said Donna.

“Impossible. I saw Ben put the CD inside his jacket pocket,” insisted Timothy.  “If he dropped it, it would have been in here.  He said he was going straight home afterwards.”

“This is our Benedict you’re talking about,” Wanda reminded him.  “He’s easily distracted and may have stopped off somewhere to have a putter in a shop or for a coffee.”

“That’s highly unlikely,” retorted Timothy.  “Ben would never go walking about London or take the tube with such an expensive ring in his pocket.  He planned on taking a cab straight home to hide it in a safe place.”

“What was he wearing that day?” asked Donna, leaping to her feet.

“A black leather jacket and jeans,” replied Timothy.  “Not the heavy one he wears on his motorbike.  The other one...it’s dressier.”

“I know the one!” cried Donna, dashing off to Benedict’s bedroom at top speed. “I bet it’s still in his jacket!” she shouted back towards them.

There came the sound of a crash and the sound of Donna’s muffled cry, followed by a stream of curses.  Wanda and Timothy bolted to their feet and ran down the hallway.

“Are you alright, Donna?” asked Wanda worriedly from the hallway. “Turn on the light, Tim, quick as you can.  I can’t see anything but shadows!”

“What in blazes happened?” began Timothy, switching on the overhead light.

Timothy and Wanda both gasped to see Donna sprawled face down on Benedict’s bed, holding his lamp with both hands.  The items that were on top of his nightstand had apparently fallen to the floor.

“Good God!  Are you hurt, Donna?” asked Timothy, rushing to the bedside to take the lamp from her.

“I’m fine.  It’s my fault for running in here without turning on the light.  I thought there was enough light coming in from the hallway to see where I was going; but I was wrong. I ran right into the nightstand,” explained Donna as she sat up.  “Anyway, lucky for me, the lamp is safe!  I caught it just in time.”

Wanda bent down to retrieve the other items.  “Do you remember exactly how Ben had these things arranged on here?  Barrister Ben will notice if something is out of place.”

“This is my side of the bed, so it won’t matter,” replied Donna with a laugh, as she took the items from Wanda and put them back in their place. 

Timothy returned the lamp to the center of the nightstand, as Donna went to the wardrobe, which was against the wall right beside the bed. 

“I was trying to get in here,” she said, opening the closet door and beginning to rummage through Benedict’s clothes.  “Here it is!” said Donna triumphantly pulling out the black leather jacket.  “I bet it’s still in here.”

Wanda and Timothy held their breath as Donna stuck her hand inside the pockets of Benedict’s jacket.

“Crap!  It’s not here!” she cried in frustration.  “Now, what are we going to do?”

“Well, I for one am going home to get some sleep,” replied Timothy.  “There’s nothing else for us to do here, ladies.  The disc will either turn up eventually or it won’t.”

Donna and Wanda both exchanged worried looks as the same thought suddenly occurred to them both at the same time.

“Oh my God!  Are you thinking what I’m thinking, Wanda?”  Donna asked fearfully, biting her lower lip.

Wanda regarded her future daughter-in-law and nodded.  “Yes, and unfortunately, it would make perfect sense.”

“What would?” demanded Timothy angrily. 

“That Benedict took the CD to Cardiff with him,” replied Donna.

“It’s the only explanation that makes perfect sense,” agreed Wanda.

“Shit.  For all we know, he might have read it by now,” said Donna as they left the bedroom and headed for the living room. “Do you think he did? It would account for his earlier behavior.”

“Wanda and I know Benedict a lot longer than you have, Donna,” began Timothy.  “And had he read the contents of that CD, he would be very angry indeed.”

“I concur,” said Wanda as she and Timothy stepped into the foyer and proceeded down the stairs to collect their coats.  “Had he read it, Ben would move heaven and earth to drive back here tonight and confront us.  I think we’re still safe; but you’ve got to search his things when he gets back tomorrow, Donna, and see if he has it.”

“Have you forgotten that I’ve been asked not to be here when he gets home,” Donna reminded her, as she closed the door to Ben’s apartment and locked it.  “He wants to be alone to decompress.”  She followed them down the stairs.

“That’s not good,” said Timothy.  “If he does have it and hasn’t had time to read it yet, he might use the time to review it tomorrow.”

“Donna, I think you should be here when Ben arrives,” said Wanda as they made their way down the stairs to the foyer.

“Are you crazy?” exclaimed Donna.  “He’ll tell me to leave given the foul mood he’s in.”

Wanda waved at her dismissively as Timothy helped her on with her coat.  “He’ll forget all about being stroppy with you once he sees you - especially, if you have a nice lunch and a banoffee pie waiting for him.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Wanda,” said Donna hesitantly.  “If Benedict’s already read it, he’ll be angry and boot me out; and if he hasn’t read it, then he’ll be angry at me for being here and still boot me out.  It’s a lose-lose situation either way as I see it.”

Wanda Ventham smiled serenely at Donna Saint James and patted her cheek.  “Think of it this way, Love; if Benedict’s pissed off for whatever reason, we’ll have nothing more to lose.  However, if he hasn’t read it and you get a chance to replace it with the right CD then we have everything to gain – and The Plan will remain intact!"

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Well, Benedict had the CD all along and has finally read it. Of course, he's not happy - he's also confused. He's caught in between wanting to believe this concrete proof that substantiates everything Una said and desperately hoping some how it's not true. 
> 
> 2\. I just wanted a CD with the word 'Ben' on it; so the photo I found online was the best I could do. Same with the screen cap of Benedict playing Sherlock and looking at a computer screen. 
> 
> 2A. I'd like to give a big THANK YOU to the lovely emannep52 for being so kind and making me the CD with Ben on it that I had envisioned and sending me instructions on how to get it into my story!!! Sending you a huge hug!!!!! I never could have done that without you. xoxoxoo
> 
> 3\. The description of the Craigslist invoice is completely fictional. I haven't a clue as to how they operate. 
> 
> 4\. And now our trio suspects the worst and will be attempting to do some half-assed damage control. 
> 
> 5\. I won't be posting next week due to Thanksgiving; so I'd like to wish all who celebrate a very happy and tasty one.


	181. Chapter 181

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Benedict’s sleep is disturbed by even more memories. Saturday morning dawns with wildly different agendas for Benedict and Donna causing tempers to flare and emotions to run high. Benedict calls for a meeting of his inner circle upon his return to London in order to help him sort things out. 
> 
> Note: I’ll be using *************** for things happening at the same time.

 

Benedict Cumberbatch had brushed his teeth and gotten into his snug, warm bed with the book he had been reading.  As was his custom, he planned to read until he started to drift off.  Benedict managed to read two chapters before he felt his eyes starting to close.  However, his sleep was not of the restful variety.  Instead his mind kept reviewing all the past incidents that had now deemed suspicious in his jumbled dreams…

  

He was in his parents’ flat the day he had taken Donna over for Sunday lunch…

**“Mum, allow me to introduce you to my girlfriend, Donna Saint James. Donna, this is my mother, Wanda Ventham Cumberbatch.”**

**“What a pleasure to finally meet you, Mrs. Cumberbatch!”** gushed Donna, as Wanda also enveloped her in a tight hug.

_Okay. Cocktail hour must have started early here. I don’t ever recall Mum hugging any of my girlfriends at the first meeting. And what’s with the back patting? Donna must think she’s crackers._

**“Likewise, Donna, and please call me Wanda.”**

Donna removed the small shopping bag from her wrist and handed it to Wanda. **“Just a little host and hostess gift for you both.”**

**“Thank you! That was very sweet of you,”** said Wanda as she peeked in the bag. **“What do we have here?”**

**“There’s a bottle of rose wine and some gourmet finishing salts,”** said Donna. **“And this…” she said gesturing to the plate Benedict was carrying. “…is a turtle cheesecake that I baked. I understand it’s your favorite.”**

**“And quite right you are! I’ll be sure to save room for a slice after lunch. I can’t wait to try the salts. All the chefs on the telly are always using them.”**

**“Rose is one of my favourite wines,”** added Timothy. **“It goes with everything.”**

**“Well, being Wanda said she was on the fence with what to serve, I …”**

_What the fuck? Donna had never spoken with Mum or so I thought. I remember wondering how would she know that?_   _Now, I know._

  **“…decided a nice, rose is always a safe choice.”**

_It had to have been the night when Donna got the phone call from‘Wanda’.   It was Mum after all._

_Donna was getting very uncomfortable when I decided to pursue it that afternoon. She was starting to perspire and waffle._

**“When did you two speak?”**

**“We didn’t.  I’m just so nervous…you know…meeting your parents for the first time and all…well, meeting your mom for the first time. I meant to say that you were the one who told me about her not having made up her mind about what to serve. And you did tell me that – don’t you remember? Hahaha! Anyway, this wine should complement a roast beef nicely.”**

**“How do you know we’re having beef roast?”** inquired Benedict.

**“For God’s sake, Benedict! Didn’t Donna just say she’s nervous? I’d like to see how cool and calm you’re going to be when you meet her parents,”** Wanda had scoffed **.**

**“I’m a food critic, Benedict,”** Donna had said haughtily. **“I can decipher the aroma of roast beef when I smell it, just as your nose can pick out the various floral notes in a perfume.”**

_I remember thinking at the time that something wasn’t quite right. It was almost as if the lot of them was working in tandem…and they obviously were._

**“Now, would you please put the cake in the fridge and fetch the others?”** Wanda has asked him.

**“Yeah. Sure. Be right back,”** Benedict had said reluctantly as he headed towards the kitchen.

Benedict’s eyes popped open in the darkness.  He glanced at the bedroom clock to see that it was four in the morning. After using the loo, he got back into bed but sleep eluded him this time.  He tried reading once again, but found himself wide awake.  Finally, Benedict resorted to watching a DVD in order to distract himself from his problem.  He went through his small collection and selected _Notting Hill_ with Hugh Grant and Julia Roberts.  As the closing credits rolled, Benedict dropped off to sleep; but once again, his dream was of that afternoon in Kensington:

Benedict was sat beside Donna on the couch in the Kensington lounge with an arm draped around her shoulders as he sipped his drink.  Everyone was engaged in conversation. There had been a few tense moments between Benedict and his family when some teasing had gotten out of hand.

**“Sorry for the…almost row,”** he had said softly to Donna.

**“There’s nothing to apologize for, Benedict. These things happen in families all the time,”** she had replied, patting his hand reassuringly.

**“I’m glad you understand. I was concerned they were going to scare you away.”**

**“Oh, it would take an awful lot to scare me away. You can’t get rid of me that easily,”** giggled Donna, crossing her legs.

**“So, am I wearing pants or not?”** Benedict whispered in her ear.

**“The jury’s still out on that one.”**

Benedict had noticed that Timothy was openly staring at Donna’s foot as he crouched down to take a toast made from pumpernickel bread.

**“By the way, how is your ankle, Donna?”** asked Timothy, as he scooped some crab dip onto the toast. **“I see you’ve taken the bandage off.”**

Benedict had paused, Stilton and apricot cheese chunk in midair, when his father inquired about the state of Donna’s ankle. He recalled looking down at Donna, who audibly gulped beside him, as she let the cracker she had been eating slip through her fingers and onto the rug.

_It dawned on me that there was only one way Dad could have possibly known about Donna’s ankle - He had to have seen her at the Blackberry Bramble Inn the weekend of my birthday._

Benedict had raised an eyebrow at Donna, whose face was rapidly reddening as she retrieved the fallen cracker.

**“I thought you didn’t leave the room?”** he had said to her.

While Benedict waited impatiently for an uncomfortable Donna to respond, he had noticed that his parents appeared as panic-stricken as she did.  His sister had only appeared to be curious about the conversation.

**“Mum, I think it’s time we got the starter on the table,”** said Tracy nonchalantly. **“Let me help you.”**

_On further reflection, that was a ruse by my sister to get Mum alone in the kitchen.  She suspected something funny was going on and wanted to question Mum._

**“I can handle it fine, thanks, Love,”** Wanda had said in a dismissive tone as she tried to exit the room.

_I remember thinking:  Oh, no you don’t, Mum.  I want you to stay.  I want to hear what you have to contribute to this bizarre conversation._

**“Wait, Mum,”** commanded Benedict’s deep baritone from behind her.   **“Please sit and relax so you can get to know Donna better. You’ve been flitting around like a butterfly ever since she got here. Emmy, why don’t you take Jenn and Heather to the kitchen and bring the starters to the table so Gran can relax yes?”**

Then he had turned his attention back to Donna.

**“You haven’t answered my question, Donna,”** pressed Benedict whilst keeping his eyes on his mother.

Wanda had slowly turned around and took the seat vacated by Emily beside Donna. She leaned close to Donna.

_Mum thought I didn’t hear her at the time, but I did._ _My hearing is much better than she gives me credit for._

**“This is one right mess,”** Wanda breathed softly under her breath to Donna.

Donna was apparently trying to buy some time by taking another sip of her drink and eating a slice of apple.  Benedict remembered keeping his eyes on her.  Finally, she had met his gaze and attempted to look embarrassed.

**“Well, if you must know – and it seems you must – I ran out of tampons and had to go out and buy some at the local druggist. The inn doesn’t just stock them behind the reception desk, you know.”**

Benedict had done a double take. **“How could you possibly run out? You’ve got extras of the extras stashed away in that handbag of yours.”**

**“Well, this time I didn’t have enough. Mother Nature came calling early, remember?”**

_Yes, that part I remember quite well.  I was not getting laid that weekend._

**“Well, after you left the room for filming, I went to shower and noticed that I was almost out of tampons. I couldn’t very well last the day without more, so I got dressed and went to the drug store to buy a box.”**

**“Imagine that! You were right across the hall all that time, and I didn’t know it!”** cackled Wanda nervously.

_I recall wondering what in the fuck was going on._ _That was Mum’s nervous laugh, and I could swear Donna had whispered something to Mum_ _._ _Bloody hell!  Donna had actually elbowed Mum to shut up._

Benedict’s eyes had met his sister’s, causing Tracy to quickly avert hers.

_From the expression on Tracy’s face, she couldn’t believe what she was hearing either.  I need to go around to her house on the way back to London.  I’d love to hear what she has to say.  Unless she’s also part of the conspiracy…then she’d alert Mum and Dad.  I need to have the element of surprise on my side._

Then Donna had continued with her story. **"Anyway, as I was heading towards the stairs, I met your dad in the hallway.”**

Timothy nodded his head. **"That’s right. I had gone down to reception to get the copy of the London Times I had reserved upon arrival. It’s not Sunday unless I have my paper.”**

Donna gave Tim a half-smile and barely nodded at him.

**“We said hello and then he asked me what was wrong because I was hobbling.”**

Benedict’s gaze travelled to his father **.**

**“Weren’t you curious as to why Donna was there, Dad?”**

To Benedict’s disappointment, Donna had piped up before Timothy had a chance to open his mouth.

**“For God’s sake, _Honey_! Who can remember word for word what they said over a week ago? Do you _really_ need to know _every_ word that passed between us? ” ** she had exclaimed, patting Benedict’s knee a bit harder than she should have.

Benedict had been completely taken aback by Donna’s words. He felt himself bristle when Donna had addressed him as ‘Honey’.

_That was the snarky version of ‘Honey’.  I hate it when she calls me that._

**“No,” Benedict had said petulantly, pressing his lips into a thin line.**

_Yes. I do._ _I really needed and wanted to know every word that passed between them; but I think I can manage a good guess._

**“Of course not,”** he added in a sulky tone.

_I was so pissed off, and they all knew it, but to my delight, Dad decided to continue with this half-assed explanation._   

Timothy cleared his throat and continued. **“We chatted briefly, and Donna told me she was there to review the inn’s restaurant….”**

_It made sense to me at the time.  Donna was trying to make Dad think we weren’t together._  

**“…I had noticed that her ankle was bandaged, and she was having a bit of trouble walking on it.”**

**“When your dad found out I was on my way to the drug store, he even offered to go out and pick up whatever I needed; but I refused because it just didn’t seem right to ask a man I barely knew to pick up sanitary products for me. I told him it wasn’t important, but he persisted** ,” said Donna.

**“That’s my Tim! Always the helpful one, bless him,”** smiled Wanda.

**“And you finally told me what you needed, and I know I must have turned several shades of red,”** laughed Timothy.

**“I felt so bad because you looked so uncomfortable,”** added Donna.

**“I’m not used to being asked to procure….feminine products,”** said Timothy bashfully. **“But I was determined that Donna should not further injure her foot, so I soldiered on and went to the chemist for her.”**

_What fresh hell is this?_  Benedict had thought _. I recall him buying sanitary towels for Mum many times.   I was even with him on a few occasions and kept asking him what they were for, which finally earned me a heart-to-heart talk and a hot fudge sundae at Foubert’s._

**“Why didn’t you just ask Mum to go to the chemist?”** inquired Benedict. **“That way you would have saved face.”**

**“He couldn’t ask me because I was in the bath,”** said Wanda reasonably. **“I had no idea this was going on or I would have been happy to go, given how modest your father’s always been about female matters. Honestly, Benedict, you really have earned your nickname this afternoon and then some!”**

**“It’s not the sort of thing a gentleman likes to discuss,”** mumbled Timothy, looking embarrassed. **“So, I saw no need to bring it up.”**

**“Nor did I,”** said Donna with finality. **“It was such a _trivial_ thing. I needed tampons, and your dad helped me out. End of story. I hope our explanation met with your approval, _Honey_.” **

Suddenly, Benedict set down his empty glass and leaned forward, hands clasped on his knees while he addressed Timothy and Wanda directly.

**“What I still don’t get is how…”**

**“The starters are ready!”** called Emily from the dining room.

 

A few hours later, Benedict Cumberbatch awoke to the sound of bird song coming from downstairs.  He swore and rolled over onto his side in order to see the bedside clock. 

_Its blackbird o’clock already – that’s what I get for leaving the door to my room open after using the loo last night.  Those little fuckers woke me every hour on the hour but I was too lazy to get up and close the door.  
_

_You know that wasn’t really true, Benedict.  You’ve slept through the bird song many times when this door was open.  
_

_The dreams kept waking you.  The blackbird roused you from one is all.  
_

This time the dream had been about the Sunday lunch when his parents were supposedly meeting Donna for the first time.  Benedict rolled onto his back while his mind began to replay that afternoon:

 

**_“We can’t tell you how over-the-moon Tim and I are that you and Benedict are in a relationship, Donna,”_** his mother had begun.

**_“I bet it was quite the relief,”_** quipped Heather MacPherson. **_“She had just about given up on him.”_**

_Emmy had to go and invite her bestie so she could have a go at me with her big mouth in front of Donna.  I was mortified that day!  I don’t know how Donna and Carly can tolerate having the little twat around their shop._

**_“My wife can be rather impatient when it comes to these things,”_** Timothy had said whilst sipping his drink.

_And Dad was trying his best to be diplomatic, bless him.  He knows how much I loathe Heather._

**_“Do you remember the time you said Mrs. Cumberbatch was going to place an ad for a wife for him?”_** giggled Heather.

_I remember thinking at the time that it_ _strange and now I know for a fact that it was true!  Dad might have been off his face at Emmy’s birthday dinner, but he sure as shit blurted out the truth about Mum placing the advert!_

_Mum, Dad and Tracy suddenly looked very anxious, and I recall Donna suddenly sitting up ramrod straight beside me – as if she had heard something alarming.  I bet it was alarming, Sweetheart.  I remember watching Donna’s face.  She was studying them very closely.  They were all concerned that Heather had mentioned The Plan without realizing or knowing what she had done._

_They were afraid that I might be able to put two and two together, which I wasn’t at the time.  Oh, but now I’m doing a fine and splendid job of it._

**_“I can’t say that I do,”_** Timothy had replied with a frown.

**_“Oh, it was _nothing_ , really,” _**chimed in Tracy a bit too quickly.

_Let me not forget dear Tracy!  So, my half-sister is in on it, too?  I must add her to my list of interviewees._

**_“Actually, I think I do remember something about imbibing quite a heroic quantity of Tia Maria followed by a call for the ice bucket,”_** Timothy chuckled. **_“Not one of my finer moments,”_** he had said as an aside to Donna.

_And that was when Emmy sauntered over to stick her nose in, but her input was invaluable._

**_“I remember Gran and Uncle Ben having a tug of war with Grandpa in the middle!”_ **

**_“I missed that,”_** lamented Jennifer. ** _“I bet it was funny!”_**

**_“I told you what happened, Jenn. Grandpa was so off his face that he was saying all kinds of crazy things, so Uncle Ben and Gran were trying to get him to bed. Grandpa wound up on the floor when he yelled at them to stop!”_** explained Emily. ** _“Do you remember sliding off the chair onto the floor when they let go?”_** she asked Timothy.

_I remember it very well.  Mum was practically hysterical trying to get Dad out of the room.  Then he puked in Mum’s crystal ice bucket afterwards._

Timothy managed to give Emily a sheepish look as he shook his head and shrugged. ** _“I honestly can’t say that I do, Emmy. My mind’s a complete blank.”_**

_That was some brilliant acting, Dad.  Well done you. I bought your performance hook, line and sinker._

**_“Of course you can’t remember! You were off your face at the time!”_** scoffed Derrick with a wave of his hand. ** _“Therefore, you can hardly be held responsible for your words.”_**

**_“Oh, I don’t know about that, Mr. Peacock,”_** countered Heather ** _. “My mum always says that booze acts like truth serum.”_**

_How true that was.  Thank you, for once, Heather._

**_“I never heard such nonsense, Heather!”_** Barked Tracy.

_My sister protested a bit too enthusiastically. She was very eager to shut Heather up. Not that I minded, but that night she was the gift that kept on giving._

**_“It’s true, Mrs. Peacock. Whenever my dad has one too many, he always come out with things that he’s been keeping from my mum.”_ **

**_“Well, I can assure you, Heather, that I have no secrets to keep from my wife,”_** Timothy had assured her.

_Oh, but you had plenty of secrets to keep from you son, Dad.  Shame on you!  I thought you were on my side.  I thought for sure you would have confided in me._

_How wrong I was!_

**_“Wanda and I stick together through thick and thin. We are truly partners and share in everything,”_** continued Timothy.

_**Yes, you and Mum are the proverbial partners in crime, bless you both.** _ ****

**_“So why were you and Uncle Ben playing tug of war over Grandpa in the first place?”_** asked Jennifer. **_“No one ever told me that part.”_**

_That was a good question, Jenn.  I remember thinking so at the time, but Mum did her best to shut the talk down._

**_“It was a simple misunderstanding,”_** said Wanda with a dismissive wave of her hand. **_“And it was so trivial that I don’t even remember.”_**

_How I remember the look in Mum’s eyes when I said:_

**_“I do, and I would hardly call harassing me about finding a_ ** _**suitable bird** _ **_‘trivial’, _Mother_.” _ **

**_“It was the usual row about Uncle Ben not being able to find a nice girl to settle down with,”_** explained Emily offhandedly to Donna. ** _“It’s been going on ever since he and Olivia broke up.”_**

**_“Oh, _that_ row,” _**giggled Jennifer. ** _“The poor-Benedict-can’t-find-a-bird row.”_**

**_“You should have heard the squabbles that went on, Donna,”_** chimed in Heather. **_“I wasn’t present for all of them, but Emmy would come back to the residence hall and tell me all about them!”_**

**_“Well, no one has to worry about that happening anymore,”_** said Donna with a smile, taking Benedict’s free hand in hers and squeezing it. ** _“Right, Benedict?”_**

**_“Yes. No more worries.”_ **

_Now, I have different worries. Thanks to Mum’s ad, I’ve got a whole family of liars to contend with: My parents, my fiancée, and most likely my sister._

_And let us not forget Mum’s friends:  Una, Judi and Diana._

**_“Emily Peacock! Shame on you for airing the dirty family laundry!”_** scolded Wanda. ** _“I’m sure Donna’s not interested in our rows.”_**

_Donna already knew the back story._

**_“You’ll have to forgive my mother, Donna. She’s always been a frustrated matchmaker at heart,”_** laughed Tracy ** _._**

_I’m the one who has to forgive Mum, and it will be a cold day in hell when that happens, I’m so fucking angry!  She crossed the line with her frustration._

**_“And unfortunately her enthusiasm for seeing her children happily married has sometimes caused …”_ **

**_“A hell of a lot of aggravation,”_** Benedict had finished her sentence curtly.

**_“I was going to say unfortunate misinterpretations of motives,”_** interjected Tracy.

_Tracy was definitely in on it.  There’s no other explanation for her behaviour._

**_“I prefer to describe it as friction,”_** Benedict has retorted while glowering at Tracy _._

**_“You once told me it was like someone constantly poking at a festering wound with a hot fireplace iron,”_** added Emily with a snort.

**_“I think you sounded just like a barrister, Mum!”_** chortled Jennifer.

**_“I thought she sounded more like Benedict,”_** observed Heather. ** _“Always using big words so no one has any idea what he’s really talking about. Do you _actually know_ what you’re saying most of the time?” _** she asked Benedict with a smirk. **_“Sometimes I wonder…”_**

**_“Don’t you have a paper to do?”_** Benedict had asked her impatiently.

**_"Yes, they do,"_** replied Tracy, looking at Emily and Heather meaningfully.  **_"I'm sure you can get some of it done before lunch is served.  Off you go then before I draft you both to help in the kitchen!"_**

**_“I think it best that I get our starters ready,”_** said Wanda getting to her feet.

**_“Can I help you?”_** offered Donna.

**_“Thank you for the offer, Love; but I’ve got everything under control,”_** replied Wanda. ** _“I’ve made your favorite, French Onion Soup.”_**

 

_I remember wondering how Mum knew that Donna’s favorite soup is French Onion. I never told her that, and she hadn’t been in Donna’s company long enough for them to discuss that. And Mum called Donna ‘Love’.  It took years before she called Olivia that, and she never called Anna that. I thought at the time that Mum barely knew Donna, yet she seemed so comfortable and taken with her._

_You were such a clueless twit, Benedict.  That’s because Mum knew her fairly well by then.  That Sunday lunch was just chock full of clues._

Benedict yawned and reached over for his mobile.  The message light was on.   There was a message from Karon, reminding him of a gallery opening on Wednesday that she thought he would be good exposure for him to be seen at. 

_She means well about never having enough good exposure even though I'll be knackered as shit.  It certainly couldn't hurt though.  I'll have to check the shooting schedule to see if Wednesday's going to be a night shoot - if so,  then it's out of the question.  My hours are going to be all over the place with Sherlock shooting all week, and that's my prime responsibility. I suppose if it’s not going to be too late; and I don't have a terribly early call the next day, I could make a brief appearance.  I’ll need to be mindful of getting proper rest; so I can function on set.  
_

Benedict frowned as he read the second message from Karon, telling him to feel free to bring Donna along.

_Haha!  Now, that was a gratuitous afterthought if I ever read one, bless.  No, Karon, Donna is the last person whose company I fancy right now.  I need to keep my distance until I’ve had a chance to properly sort out my feelings._

The next message was from Donna and had a photo attached.  It was taken at three in the morning:

**I’m having trouble falling asleep and just wanted to say hi.  Love you and can’t wait to feel your lips upon mine again!  D xxoo**

**P.S. The attachment is my tribute to Sherlock for next week. D**

The photo was of Donna’s bare feet.  Her large toes each had a deerstalker and the other nails were adorned with little magnifying glasses.  Benedict burst out laughing and automatically typed a response:

**You are a complete nutter, and I love you.  Bx  
**

An immediate response came back from Donna: **  
**

**The nail tech thought I was nuts, too.  LOL  D  
**

**I hope you don’t plan on wearing sandals to the shoot.  The cast and crew will relish taking the piss – particularly Martin. B  
**

**I would never embarrass you like that! D  
**

**You could never embarrass me.  B** **  
**

**I’m also not intimidated by Martin in the slightest.  His grumpiness is all an act. D  
**

**Most of time it is, but not always.  BTW he really does adore you.  B  
**

**And I adore him. D  
**

**Should I be jealous? B  
**

**Never.  I adore you more.  DXXXXX  
**

Benedict aimed his mobile at the stuffed barn owls that sat on the shelf above his dresser and took a photo.   **  
**

**The chaps send regards.  They miss watching over us whilst we participate in adult entertainment. B  
**

**You mean while we fuck our brains out? D**

**Exactly. B**

**Horny little bastards, aren’t they?  LOL!  Or is that you talking? D  
**

Benedict slapped his palm to his forehead when he realized that he was texting with Donna as if nothing had happened.

_Damn!  Talk about being impulsive.  I’m supposed to be angry with her and here I am texting with her…how easily it as to fall into old habit patterns.  I’m bantering with her as if nothing has changed between us.  
_

_But has it?  
_

_Donna hasn’t changed outwardly.  She’s just lying inside.  
_

_I’m supposed to be angry…but somehow the bad feelings all melted away when she sent me that photo.  Maybe I’m not angry after all.  I find myself really missing her and wanting to communicate with her.  
_

_But Donna still was a willing participant in The Plan.  She’s been lying to me from the start and still is.  How can I live with and trust someone who lies to me?  I will not be played for a fool!  
_

_I really need to have a think on this.  I sorely need to run this past Adam.  
_

Benedict’s mobile began to ring.  It was Donna. 

_I’m not going to answer it. My voice will give me away._

_Of course you are, you tit.  You’ve been dying to hear her voice.  See how it goes.  You’re a decent actor. Act. Pretend you’re not mad.  
_

_I don’t think I am though._

“Hello,” he said gruffly.

_That was a bit terse, Benedict.  Soften it._

“Erm…hi, Donna.”

_Now, you sound as if she caught you in the middle of having a wank.  For fucks sake!_

**“Hi!  You’re up early, Honey.”**

“Well, it _is_ blackbird o’clock here in the country.”

**“Having trouble sleeping?”**

“Yeah.  It wasn’t a particularly restful night so I put on _Notting Hill_ and nodded off finally.”

**“I love that movie!”**

“As do I - I just wish I wouldn’t always cry at the end.”

**“I love how romantic you are, Ben Honey.”**

“I’m a soppy twat is what I am.”

**“I like you soppy.”**

“Erm…it seems you were having trouble sleeping as well from the time stamp on your text.”  **  
**

**“A little.  I got to bed on the late side and had trouble falling asleep. You sound more like yourself this morning.”**

“I’m feeling a bit more like myself.” 

_However, there is still_ _an underlying current of hurt and anger that I’m desperately trying to control and not unleash on you.  
_

**“What time do you think you’ll be back in London?”**

“For Christ’s sake! I haven’t even gotten out of bed yet, _Sweetheart_.”

His barbed remark was met with silence.

_Well, so much for the acting, Benedict.  Part of me desperately wants to verbally lash out at her and demand that she tell me why she's lying. I need to turn on my mouth filter before I say something I’m going to regret._

**“If you could just give me a ballpark time, then I could come over and make us some lunch and let the printer know what time to expect us.”**

“Expect us for what?”

**“We have an appointment to pick out our wedding invitations!  Remember, you told me Wednesday that it was okay to make one for later on in the afternoon.”**

“That was Wednesday.  Today is Saturday, and I only have two days off before I have to go back to work.”

**“That is a normal work week for the average person – five days on and two off.  What are you complaining about?”**

“An actor's work week is anything but average, Donna.  You should know that by now!  I don't always work consecutive days.  My contract states that I may be called upon to work nights and weekends if the schedule warrants it.   The scripts don't always have the action taking place during the daylight hours, and Sue can't always obtain permits to shoot during certain times of the week. Sometimes it's easier to shoot certain types of scenes in locations after everyone's gone home - like in the City of London."

**"I do realize that, Benedict.  I've catered night shoots."**

"Well, I’m just pointing out the fact that I happen to work longer hours than the average person at an often physically and emotionally demanding job.  It’s not just memorizing lines and rattling them off – I have to connect and inhabit the character that I’m playing.”

**“You've proven that you have no trouble inhabiting Sherlock. So far, you’ve done a great job at capturing his impatience and brusqueness.”**

"You mean I've been acting like a complete dick."

**"Well, if the shoe fits..."**

“That was rather snarky of you.”

**“You haven’t been the nicest since you’ve been playing Sherlock,”** Donna said gently.  **“Let’s just say that his more…unattractive traits have rubbed off on you.”**

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.”

**“Suit yourself, but it’s true.  Even your parents agree with me.”**

“Jolly good for the lot of you.”

Donna said nothing.

“I’m begging you to cut me some slack, Donna. This coming week, I’ll be running around the streets of London during a night shoot for example.  It takes its toll…as you've said, you’ve already helped to cater a couple; so you should understand what sort of stress I’m under!”

**“I don’t think you’ve been listening to me, Benedict,”** Donna said in a teasing tone.  **“You’re going to change your mind because today we’re supposed to also meet up with your friends for dinner to review a new restaurant that specializes in prime, dry-aged steaks and …”**

“And I don’t think you’ve been listening to _me_!  Bloody hell, Donna, didn’t we have this conversation already yesterday?  I recall specifically asking you to please let me be alone today.  I don’t fancy going out to review restaurants with you tonight or doing any wedding chores.”

**“Excuse me; but did you just describe selecting our wedding invitations as a chore?”**

“Yes…today I see it as a chore.”

**“I don’t understand!  You’ve been looking forward to doing that.  Why the sudden change?”**

“You can postpone it yet?”

**“Well, yeah, of course I can…”**

“Then do it.  Please.”

**“Fine. I’ll reschedule to next Saturday afternoon. _Sherlock_ will be finished shooting by then."**

"That's if we don't run past schedule.  Sometimes that happens and we need extra days."

**"What about dinner?  Surely, you’d welcome the opportunity to relax and decompress over a good meal with your friends.”**

“How do I know we would have a good meal?  Nothing is guaranteed.”

**“Hmmm…not even your mood is apparently.  I’m confused, Ben, I thought you felt differently this morning…”**

“Well, you thought wrong then.  I really don’t fancy seeing you today, and I don’t want to find you in my flat when I get home.  Is that clear?”

Benedict heard what sounded like a sniffle on the other end.

**“Yes…you made yourself quite clear.”**

“Brilliant.”

**“What I still don’t understand is that I thought you were looking forward to picking out our wedding invitations.  You kept saying that you had some ideas…”**   Donna began in a small voice.

“Well, you thought wrong then.  The wedding is the last thing on my mind.  I’ve got other things on my mind right now that is paramount to spending my afternoon looking through books full of invites!”

Benedict’s comment was met with a gasp. 

_Shit.  I went too far that time._

**“Pardon me to hell, Benedict!  I take back what I said about you sounding more like yourself today.  Man, was I wrong!  It seems Sherlock Holmes came back to Gloucestershire with you, and I hope to fuck you leave him there!”**

“ _Please Donna_.  Humour me. All I ask is that you respect my wish for some space today.”

**“Why?  I don’t understand this behavior, Benedict.  One minute you’re nice and sweet and sending me cute texts like we always do and then the next you turn into this nasty prick for no reason at all!”**

“I was nice and sweet until you decided to encroach upon my peace and quiet.” 

_And then I kept thinking about all the lies…_

**“I’m going to ask you a question, and I want an honest answer.”**

_Ha!  Look who’s asking for an honest answer - that’s one for the books!  
_

“Go ahead.”

**“Did you take something?”**

“Like what?”

**“You know…you said that every now and then you indulge in…you know…”**

“For fucks sake!  Are you insinuating that I’ve…”

**“Forget I even asked,”** Donna said quickly. 

“You cheeky little thing! I will not! I’ve never been so motherfucking insulted in all my life, Donna Saint James!  All I’ve had is a cheese toasty, two slices of lemon drizzle cake, three cups of perfectly brewed Earl Grey tea and a whiskey since I got here. I haven’t smoked any fags or spliffs - if that’s what you’re referring to!  I told you I don’t indulge in tobacco or weed any longer.”

**“I apologize if I offended you; but it’s not good to drink alone, Benedict.”**

Benedict snorted. “Half a tumbler of whiskey hardly qualifies as drinking alone, Donna!  It wasn’t even enough to make me tipsy.”  

**“ _Fine_.”**

_She's annoyed.  Too bad.  
_

“I’m glad we understand each other then.”

**“Do we? _You_ may understand; but _I_ sure as fuck don’t! Tell you what, Benedict Cumberbatch.  I’m done with taking your shit for today.  Feel free to call me when you're ready to stop acting like an unreasonable bastard and have reverted to your former self; because right now I’m fed up with the snotty, arrogant son of a bitch who I’ve been talking to the past couple of days!”**

“Excuse me. Did you just call me an arrogant son of a bitch?”

**"Yes, and I also called you an unreasonable bastard."**

"How dare you?"

**"I dare just fine, thank you!"**

"Do you really think all that snark was called for?"

There was no response.  Benedict looked at his mobile to see that Donna had rung off.  

_How about that?  She had the bollocks to hang up on me!  Well, she can go piss off for all I care!  How dare she call me a snotty, arrogant bastard!  
_

_She dared because that’s how you came off, Benedict, you prick._

_She was telling you straight off how you were acting towards her.  
_

_Why did you treat the woman you love like shit just now?  
_

_Because I’m angry and hurt and confused…very confused.  
_

_**************************************************_

Donna Saint James sat on the white leather chaise lounge in her apartment, looking at her cellphone in disbelief.  Her hand was trembling, and she felt heart-sick and hurt inside.

_Jeez Louise!  What just happened?  Did we just break up?  
_

_No.  We had a big argument…but what was it over?  
_

_I don’t really know…one word let to another and BAM!  We were bickering.  
_

_It hurts so much that he’s suddenly not interested in the wedding invitations.  He was so excited about going to pick them out.  I can’t imagine what happened to cause him to cool off.  
_

_Holy cow!  
_

_He knows.  
_

_Benedict’s seen the CD.  
_

_He knows about The Plan.  
_

_That would explain why Benedict was so freaking snotty to me.  He’s not decompressing from the stress of playing Sherlock - that’s bullshit.  I’ve been through The Great Game and The Blind Banker; and it usually takes him only a few hours to shake off Sherlock.  By the time he’s taken the train or driven home; he’s pretty much back to being Benedict.  Needing a whole day is nonsense. He’s been playing Sherlock since January, and he’s never, ever treated me like he did just now. It’s because he knows we all lied to him.  
_

_Hmmm…to be fair, Benedict usually comes home late at night and goes straight to sleep.  I usually don’t see interact with him all that much until late the next day.  By then he’s had a chance to shake off the character.  Perhaps if we were living together full time, I’d be more aware and sensitive to his moods…  
_

_…but this was different._

_This was angry Benedict._

_He turned on me like someone had flipped a switch._

Suddenly, the tears that Donna had been trying to hold back came spilling down her face. 

_That’s why he’s not eager to pick out wedding invitations – Benedict said the wedding wasn’t the most important thing right now.  
_

_There isn’t going to be any wedding.  He’s going to come back and call it off.  
_

_All because I didn’t come clean - I lied. I kept trying to tell him, and he didn’t want to hear it – I needed to try harder and make him listen!  I don’t care how Mom and Wanda tried to justify it.  In the end I lied to Benedict.  I didn’t tell him the truth about the ad for fear that he’d want to break up.  
_

_And now he found out. Damn Wanda and her fucking disc!  Why on earth did she have to take sure a chance?  
_

_But was it so wrong?  I just answered an ad...an ad that his mother ran on his behalf._

_It was an ad that he didn’t know about or approve - that's what's wrong, Donna._

_But it had nothing to do with our meeting though._

_I thought there were two Ben’s:  Ben Ventham and Ben Cumberbatch._

Donna didn’t know how long she had been crying when the doorbell to her apartment rang in conjunction with her cellphone ringing. 

_Oh, crap! I’m not up to company, so whoever is at the door can just go away!_

The caller ID showed that it was Carly on the phone.

“Hello,” she sniffled.

**“Donna, are you alright?  I’ve been knocking on your door for the past ten minutes and ringing your bell.  I know you’re in there – I can hear music playing.”**

“Sorry. I’ll be right there.”  Donna wiped her nose and padded to the door; so she could let Carly in. 

Carly looked stunned at Donna’s red and swollen eyes as she closed the door behind her.

“Oh my God!  You’ve been crying! No wonder you didn’t hear me!  What happened?”

“My life is so messed up, Carly!” wailed Donna.  “I can’t even believe it!”

“What do you mean, Donna?  Are you sick?  Shall I call Steve to come up?”

“No.  I’m fine. It’s Benedict,” Donna sobbed as the tears began to flow freely again. 

“Is he okay?  Did something happen to him on the way back from Cardiff?”

“No. Health-wise, he’s fine.  He spent the night at Wanda and Tim’s country home because the weather was so bad.”

“That was a sensible idea.  I was hoping he didn’t drive in that horrible weather last night.  Is that why you’re upset – because Ben didn’t come home last night?”

“No.  It’s just…it’s just that Benedict’s not acting like himself.  I texted him late last night and figured he would respond once he woke up, which he did.  We texted back and forth as we always do – you know…there was the usual ebb and flow of good-natured teasing that goes on between us. Then I decided to call him so we could actually talk and hear each other’s voices. I figured being he was up why not?  However, that’s when things got so strange!  Benedict was in a word:  nasty.  At first, I thought maybe he was still groggy from sleep; but he was wide awake.”

“Maybe he was feeling grouchy because he was short on sleep.  Ben’s told me himself that he needs a solid eight hours sleep to feel rested.”

“Yes, he was short on sleep; but this was far beyond a bit of residual grumpiness. You would not believe it was the same person, Carly! I never should have answered that ad!  I need to tell Wanda about this.  Now, we’re all going to pay the price.”

“Slow down. What price?  What ad?  What are you talking about?”

“Wanda’s damned personal ad for a daughter-in-law!” 

“What does this have to do with whether or not Ben got enough sleep?”

“Everything!  Are you dense, _Carla_?  He knows!” wailed Donna. “Benedict knows everything about the Plan!”

“Oh…that plan.  I get it now.  No wonder you’re so upset.  Now, exactly how did Ben find out?”

“There was a CD that Wanda made with the ad and all the interview material on it…her notes and our emails and ….”

Carly raised a hand. “Whoa hoa here!  Why on earth would Wanda do that? This is the first I’m hearing about a CD.  I thought she destroyed all the evidence!”

Donna shook her head and blew her nose.  “She saved it all on a CD in case Benedict and I ever broke up!”

“Boy, that Wanda sure is an optimist!” said Carly with a smirk.  “Pardon me for saying, but was a really stupid thing to do.”

“Don't I know it!" Donna wiped the tears from her eyes.  "Wanda needs to know as soon as possible!”

“Donna, I want you to please try and calm down because I need to understand the chain of events in order to be of any help.  First, of all there is no need to alert Wanda just yet until I’ve heard the whole story.  How did Ben get his hands on this proprietary CD?”

“It happened the day Tim met Benedict at the safe deposit box to give him my ring.  Wanda asked Tim to give Benedict a CD that had instructions on what to do in the case of an emergency.  However, Tim gave him the wrong CD by accident.”

“It was the one detailing The Plan I take it.”

Donna nodded and started to cry again.  “I don’t know what to do, Carly!  I should call Mom and Dad and tell them.”

“NOOOO!  They are the last people you need to tell about this.  Remember how Dad was not on board with your not telling Ben the truth?”

“Yes, I do.  Daddy will love to tell me:  I told you so, Muffin.”

“No, Donna, he won’t love it; but Dad foresaw the complications of trying to keep something like this a secret.  If the Neil and Toni Show get wind of the possibility of something gone wrong, they will be on the next plane bound for London to try and help straighten things out.  Now, think carefully before you answer me - do you really want their kind of help right now?”

“You're right.  That's the last thing I want.”

“Good.  Mom and Dad should only find out on a need-to-know basis; and so far I haven’t heard any concrete evidence that Ben knows.”

“Oh, he knows.  Trust me.  I could tell from the way he was acting.”

“If you happen to be right, then we’ll have to do some damage control.  Perhaps we can have Steve talk to him.  Ben likes and respects him, though that would mean that we’d have to tell Steve.”

“I don’t think dragging Steve into this mess is a good idea.  It’s my hole, and I need to dig myself out of it. DAMN IT! Why now of all times?” cried Donna.

“Listen to me, Donna. Ben was bound to find out sooner or later.”

“I really was hoping for never,” sobbed Donna.

“Look, it sounds to me like you don’t know one hundred percent for sure whether he’s seen it.  You are just guessing based on his behaviour during one phone conversation.”

Carly put her arms around Donna and gave her a hug. “Come sit at the breakfast bar and tell me everything that happened this morning while I make us some hot chocolate.  It may not be what you think…”

“Oh, it is!  I know it is!”

“Please stop jumping to conclusions, Donna.” Carly poured some milk into a small saucepan and added sugar and cocoa powder to it.  “Start at the beginning; and let’s see if we can figure out what’s going on inside his head before we sound any alarm bells.  There’s no need to upset anyone else until we know for sure.”

_*******************************************************_

 

Benedict rubbed the stubble on his face and clenched his jaw as he hit the speed dial for Adam Ackland.   He chewed his thumb whilst he waited for Adam to answer.

_Maybe it’s too early.  Who am I kidding?  He has a small child.  Of course, he’s up._

**“Hi Ben!  How was the drive back to London last night?”**

“The roads were so bad that I aborted and stayed the night in Mum and Dad’s country retreat.”

**“That was a brilliant idea.  I read there was flooding everywhere.”**

“Yeah.  It was tough going; but the sun is out here this morning. Still cold as a bitch though.”

**“Here too.  Is there something wrong?  You don’t sound right.”**

Benedict cleared his throat.  “I’m fine.”

**“You don’t sound it.”**

“You’re right.  I’m not.  My life is so cocked up right now, and I’m in dire need of someone to talk to.”

**“It’s tough for me to talk right now.  Alice is making pancakes, which means I’m on Jonathan duty.  Have you ever tried dressing a squirming toddler whilst trying to have a proper chat?  It’s next to f-u-c-k-i-n-g impossible. Fancy giving me a clue as to what’s gone wrong?  You were on top of the world when we last spoke.”**

“That was then, and this is now. Let’s just say that I’m sitting in a cesspool of lies and about to drown in the deception.”

**“I do love it when you’re being melodramatic.  You are such a credit to your acting teachers.”**

“P-i-s-s off, you right b-a-s-t-a-r-d - I’m being serious!”

**“Sorry.  I hadn’t realized it. I will put on my serious cap.  Okay then, cap is on.  Now, what in the devil do you mean?  I hate it when you’re cryptic, Ben!”**

“Can you meet me at my flat around half one?”

**“Um…let me think.  Yeah, I think I can manage that. Alice is dropping Jon off at her parents and treating herself to a day of beauty – as she calls it.”**

“What does a day of beauty consist of?”

**“Hair stuff, a massage, facial, nail stuff.  She wants to look her best for tonight.”**

“Why aren’t you minding my godson then?”

**“The idea is that I have free time to get some chores around the house done.”**

_“_ That’s alright.  We can talk another time then.”

**“What about tonight then? My in-laws are going to keep Jon overnight so we don’t have to rush home after dinner. We can go somewhere for after dinner drinks.”**

“Oh, you’re having a date night yes?”

**“Christ you are such a forgetful t-i-t!  Donna invited us to be on her review team tonight or did you forget?”**

“Yes, yes – that’s right.  My head has been elsewhere. I won’t be there.  I told Donna that I’m not going tonight.”

**“Why the h-e-l-l not?  I can’t believe you’re too tired to turn down a free steak dinner, courtesy of the London Tribune.”**

“It’s…complicated and will take a bit to explain the situation properly.  As you were then, Adam.  I don’t want to keep you from your chores, nothing is worse than the wrath of Alice.”

**“No!  That’s the premise you dolt!  I had made other plans. I had no intention of doing f-u-c-k-i-n-g chores!”**

“By the way, are we spelling swear and vulgar words full time now?  It makes us sound like complete t-i-t-s.”

**“I have to; but you don’t.  Feel free to swear away.  Your godson can’t hear your foul mouth, but he can mine and is excellent at repeating as you can attest or did you forget how quickly he picked up the word c-o-c-k.”**

“Might I inquire as to what your real plans are?”

**“I was planning to meet Dennis and Mark at The George and have us a couple of pints whilst we watch the football match.  Fancy joining us?  It might cheer you.”**

“Thanks, but I’m not in the mood.  I’d like to make a counter proposal – can you all come around here first?  I promise what I have to say is far more interesting than any football match.”

**“It had better be to entice us to miss this particular match.  Will there be food and drink?”**

“Yeah.  I’ll stop off and pick up whatever you blokes fancy.”

**“This had better be good.”**

“Oh, it is.  I promise you lads will not be bored; and if you are, we’ll go down to The George to watch the game and get pissed like the old days.”

**“I won’t lie.  I’m intrigued, Ben.  I just wish you’d give me a clue as to what this is about.”**

“I am…I’m so fucking angry and hurt and confused.  I’m not being difficult, Adam, I just want to wait to tell you all in person – not to mention I have things to show you.”

**“Like evidence?”**

“Exactly.”

**“Now, I can’t wait to get there!  I've always fancied a good mystery!”**

 “Could you do me a huge favour, Mate?”

**“Name it.”**

“Would you mind rounding up the lads and ask them to meet us at my flat? Tell them there’s something of paramount importance that I want to run past all of you…something quite serious.”

**“Well, I’m certainly intrigued.  Still don’t fancy giving me a clue as to what it’s all about?”**

“Not until you’re all here.  Not one of you will believe it until you’ve seen it with your own eyes.”

**“Bloody hell!  Don’t tell me your hair’s gone pea soup green again!”**

“No,” replied Benedict Cumberbatch.  “This is much worse. I’ve been thinking of calling off my engagement.”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. The next few chapters are partially akin to taking a trip down memory lane - sort of like "The Best of The Plan" moments - as Benedict puts the pieces of the puzzle together. I also tried my best to differentiate between the past and the present in thoughts and dialog. My apologies if I confused anyone - God knows I confused myself as I was writing it.
> 
> 2\. Yeah, I put them all through the emotional ringer in this chapter. 
> 
> 3\. Benedict is still very upset and confused, which is causing him to act like a totally insensitive, immature, jerk towards Donna, who is now suspecting the worst. 
> 
> 4\. Please don't be surprised if you come across any inconsistencies in the relating of the events that took place in prior chapters. It took weeks to try and put it all back together for Benedict (and myself). LOL! If something is missing from this chapter, it will most likely come up in one of the future ones. 
> 
> 5\. As the holiday season ramps up, I won't be posting on a regular basis due to decking the halls, baking the treats etc, making merry etc. I also find readership is off this time of year due everyone else doing likewise. :-D

**Author's Note:**

> I post update announcements on my tumblr: mariwhether.tumblr.com. Please feel free to follow me. I also welcome questions and/or discussions about the story.


End file.
